Wallenstein (rising). I never saw it in this light before. 'Tis even so. The Emperor perpetrated Deeds through my arm, deeds most unorderly. And even this prince's mantle, which I wear, 215 I owe to what were services to him, But most high misdemeanours 'gainst the empire.

Countess. Then betwixt thee and him (confess it, Friedland!) The point can be no more of right and duty, Only of power and opportunity. 220 That opportunity, lo! it comes yonder, Approaching with swift steeds; then with a swing Throw thyself up into the chariot-seat, Seize with firm hand the reins, ere thy opponent Anticipate thee, and himself make conquest 225 Of the now empty seat. The moment comes— It is already here, when thou must write The absolute total of thy life's vast sum. The constellations stand victorious o'er thee, The planets shoot good fortune in fair junctions, 230 And tell thee, 'Now's the time!' The starry courses Hast thou thy life long measured to no purpose? The quadrant and the circle, were they playthings?

[Pointing to the different objects in the room.

The zodiacs, the rolling orbs of heaven, Hast pictured on these walls, and all around thee 235 In dumb, foreboding symbols hast thou placed These seven presiding Lords of Destiny— For toys? Is all this preparation nothing? Is there no marrow in this hollow art, That even to thyself it doth avail 240 Nothing, and has no influence over thee In the great moment of decision?——

Wallenstein (interrupting the Countess). Send Wrangel to me—I will instantly Dispatch three couriers——

Illo (hurrying out). God in heaven be praised!

Wallenstein. It is his evil genius and mine. 245 Our evil genius! It chastises him Through me, the instrument of his ambition; And I expect no less, than that Revenge E'en now is whetting for my breast the poniard. Who sows the serpent's teeth, let him not hope 250 To reap a joyous harvest. Every crime Has, in the moment of its perpetration, Its own avenging angel—dark misgiving, An ominous sinking at the inmost heart. He can no longer trust me—Then no longer 255 Can I retreat—so come that which must come.— Still destiny preserves its due relations, The heart within us is its absolute Vicegerent. [To TERTSKY. Go, conduct you Gustave Wrangel To my state-cabinet. Myself will speak to 260 The couriers.—And dispatch immediately A servant for Octavio Piccolomini. [To the COUNTESS. No exultation—woman, triumph not! For jealous are the Powers of Destiny. Joy premature, and shouts ere victory, 265 Incroach upon their rights and privileges. We sow the seed, and they the growth determine.

[While he is making his exit the curtain drops.

FOOTNOTES:

[701:1] Could I have hazarded such a Germanism as the use of the word 'after-world' for posterity, 'Es spreche Welt und Nachwelt meinen Nahmen' might have been rendered with more literal fidelity:

'Let world and after-world speak out my name,' &c.

1800, 1828, 1829.

[701:2] I have not ventured to affront the fastidious delicacy of our age with a literal translation of this line:

'werth Die Eingeweide schaudernd aufzuregen.'

1800, 1828, 1829.

LINENOTES:

[12] will not . . . must 1800, 1828, 1829.

[26] Countess (hastily). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 31] Countess (laughs). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[78] Wallenstein (in extreme agitation). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 88] Wallenstein (starts up in violent agitation). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[90] As I 1800, 1828, 1829.

[110] were 1800, 1828, 1829.

[118] Duke 1800, 1828, 1829.

[137] thee 1800, 1828, 1829.

[149] Hath] Has 1800, 1828, 1829.

[157] needed 1800, 1828, 1829.

[163] him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[187] thou 1800, 1828, 1829.

[189] they 1800, 1828, 1829.

[209] For him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[211] Against him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[220] and opportunity] and th' opportunity 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 242] Wallenstein (during this last speech walks up and down with inward struggles, labouring with passions; stops suddenly, stands still, then, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[245] his . . . mine 1800, 1828, 1829.

[246] him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[249] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 262] [To the COUNTESS, who cannot conceal her triumph. 1800, 1828, 1829.



ACT V

SCENE I

SCENE—As in the preceding Act.

WALLENSTEIN, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI.

Wallenstein (coming forward in conversation). He sends me word from Linz, that he lies sick; But I have sure intelligence, that he Secretes himself at Frauenberg with Galas. Secure them both, and send them to me hither. Remember, thou tak'st on thee the command 5 Of those same Spanish regiments,—constantly Make preparation, and be never ready; And if they urge thee to draw out against me, Still answer yes, and stand as thou wert fettered. I know, that it is doing thee a service 10 To keep thee out of action in this business. Thou lovest to linger on in fair appearances; Steps of extremity are not thy province, Therefore have I sought out this part for thee. Thou wilt this time be of most service to me 15 By thy inertness. The mean time, if fortune Declare itself on my side, thou wilt know What is to do.

Enter MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Now go, Octavio. This night must thou be off, take my own horses: Him here I keep with me—make short farewell— 20 Trust me, I think we all shall meet again In joy and thriving fortunes.

Octavio (to his son). I shall see you Yet ere I go.

LINENOTES:

[3] Secretes] Secrets 1828, 1829, 1893.

[9] YES 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

WALLENSTEIN, MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Max (advances to him). My General!

Wallenstein. That am I no longer, if Thou styl'st thyself the Emperor's officer.

Max. Then thou wilt leave the army, General?

Wallenstein. I have renounced the service of the Emperor.

Max. And thou wilt leave the army?

Wallenstein. Rather hope I 5 To bind it nearer still and faster to me. [He seats himself. Yes, Max, I have delayed to open it to thee, Even till the hour of acting 'gins to strike. Youth's fortunate feeling doth seize easily The absolute right, yea, and a joy it is 10 To exercise the single apprehension Where the sums square in proof; But where it happens, that of two sure evils One must be taken, where the heart not wholly Brings itself back from out the strife of duties, 15 There 'tis a blessing to have no election, And blank necessity is grace and favour. —This is now present: do not look behind thee.— It can no more avail thee. Look thou forwards! Think not! judge not! prepare thyself to act! 20 The Court—it hath determined on my ruin, Therefore I will to be beforehand with them. We'll join the Swedes—right gallant fellows are they, And our good friends.

[He stops himself, expecting PICCOLOMINI'S answer.

I have ta'en thee by surprise. Answer me not. 25 I grant thee time to recollect thyself.

[He rises, and retires at the back of the stage. MAX remains for a long time motionless, in a trance of excessive anguish. At his first motion WALLENSTEIN returns, and places himself before him.

Max. My General, this day thou makest me Of age to speak in my own right and person, For till this day I have been spared the trouble To find out my own road. Thee have I followed 30 With most implicit unconditional faith, Sure of the right path if I followed thee. To-day, for the first time, dost thou refer Me to myself, and forcest me to make Election between thee and my own heart. 35

Wallenstein. Soft cradled thee thy Fortune till to-day; Thy duties thou couldst exercise in sport, Indulge all lovely instincts, act for ever With undivided heart. It can remain No longer thus. Like enemies, the roads 40 Start from each other. Duties strive with duties. Thou must needs choose thy party in the war Which is now kindling 'twixt thy friend and him Who is thy Emperor.

Max. War! is that the name? War is as frightful as heaven's pestilence. 45 Yet it is good, is it heaven's will as that is. Is that a good war, which against the Emperor Thou wagest with the Emperor's own army? O God of heaven! what a change is this. Beseems it me to offer such persuasion 50 To thee, who like the fixed star of the pole Wert all I gazed at on life's trackless ocean? O! what a rent thou makest in my heart! The ingrained instinct of old reverence. The holy habit of obediency, 55 Must I pluck live asunder from thy name? Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me— It always was as a god looking at me! Duke Wallenstein, its power is not departed: The senses still are in thy bonds, although, 60 Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself.

Wallenstein. Max, hear me.

Max. O! do it not, I pray thee, do it not! There is a pure and noble soul within thee, Knows not of this unblest, unlucky doing. Thy will is chaste, it is thy fancy only 65 Which hath polluted thee—and innocence, It will not let itself be driven away From that world-awing aspect. Thou wilt not, Thou canst not, end in this. It would reduce All human creatures to disloyalty 70 Against the nobleness of their own nature. 'Twill justify the vulgar misbelief, Which holdeth nothing noble in free will, And trusts itself to impotence alone Made powerful only in an unknown power. 75

Wallenstein. The world will judge me sternly, I expect it. Already have I said to my own self All thou canst say to me. Who but avoids The extreme,—can he by going round avoid it? But here there is no choice. Yes—I must use 80 Or suffer violence—so stands the case, There remains nothing possible but that.

Max. O that is never possible for thee! 'Tis the last desperate resource of those Cheap souls, to whom their honour, their good name 85 Is their poor saving, their last worthless keep, Which having staked and lost, they stake themselves In the mad rage of gaming. Thou art rich, And glorious; with an unpolluted heart Thou canst make conquest of whate'er seems highest! 90 But he, who once hath acted infamy, Does nothing more in this world.

Wallenstein (grasps his hand). Calmly, Max! Much that is great and excellent will we Perform together yet. And if we only Stand on the height with dignity, 'tis soon 95 Forgotten, Max, by what road we ascended. Believe me, many a crown shines spotless now, That yet was deeply sullied in the winning. To the evil spirit doth the earth belong, Not to the good. All, that the powers divine 100 Send from above, are universal blessings: Their light rejoices us, their air refreshes, But never yet was man enriched by them: In their eternal realm no property Is to be struggled for—all there is general. 105 The jewel, the all-valued gold we win From the deceiving Powers, depraved in nature, That dwell beneath the day and blessed sun-light. Not without sacrifices are they rendered Propitious, and there lives no soul on earth 110 That e'er retired unsullied from their service.

Max. Whate'er is human, to the human being Do I allow—and to the vehement And striving spirit readily I pardon The excess of action; but to thee, my General! 115 Above all others make I large concession. For thou must move a world, and be the master— He kills thee, who condemns thee to inaction. So be it then! maintain thee in thy post By violence. Resist the Emperor, 120 And if it must be, force with force repel: I will not praise it, yet I can forgive it. But not—not to the traitor—yes!—the word Is spoken out—— Not to the traitor can I yield a pardon. 125 That is no mere excess! that is no error Of human nature—that is wholly different, O that is black, black as the pit of hell! Thou canst not hear it nam'd, and wilt thou do it? O turn back to thy duty. That thou canst, 130 I hold it certain. Send me to Vienna. I'll make thy peace for thee with the Emperor. He knows thee not. But I do know thee. He Shall see thee, Duke! with my unclouded eye, And I bring back his confidence to thee. 135

Wallenstein. It is too late. Thou knowest not what has happened.

Max. Were it too late, and were things gone so far, That a crime only could prevent thy fall, Then—fall! fall honourably, even as thou stood'st. Lose the command. Go from the stage of war. 140 Thou canst with splendour do it—do it too With innocence. Thou hast liv'd much for others, At length live thou for thy own self. I follow thee. My destiny I never part from thine.

Wallenstein. It is too late! Even now, while thou art losing 145 Thy words, one after the other are the mile-stones Left fast behind by my post couriers, Who bear the order on to Prague and Egra. Yield thyself to it. We act as we are forced. I cannot give assent to my own shame 150 And ruin. Thou—no—thou canst not forsake me! So let us do, what must be done, with dignity, With a firm step. What am I doing worse Than did famed Csar at the Rubicon, When he the legions led against his country, 155 The which his country had delivered to him? Had he thrown down the sword, he had been lost, As I were, if I but disarmed myself. I trace out something in me of his spirit. Give me his luck, that other thing I'll bear. 160

[MAX quits him abruptly. WALLENSTEIN, startled and overpowered, continues looking after him, and is still in this posture when TERTSKY enters.

LINENOTES:

[86] saving . . . Keep 1800, 1828, 1829.

[104] property 1800, 1828, 1829.

[116] all 1800, 1828, 1829.

[123] traitor 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 128] [WALLENSTEIN betrays a sudden agitation. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[129] nam'd . . . do 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 148] [MAX stands as convulsed, with a gesture and countenance expressing the most intense anguish. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[150] I 1800, 1828, 1829.

[151] Thou—no 1800, 1828, 1829.

[160] that other thing 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE III

WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY.

Tertsky. Max Piccolomini just left you?

Wallenstein. Where is Wrangel?

Tertsky. He is already gone.

Wallenstein. In such a hurry?

Tertsky. It is as if the earth had swallowed him. He had scarce left thee, when I went to seek him. I wished some words with him—but he was gone. 5 How, when, and where, could no one tell me. Nay, I half believe it was the devil himself; A human creature could not so at once Have vanished.

Illo (enters). Is it true that thou wilt send Octavio?

Tertsky. How, Octavio! Whither send him? 10

Wallenstein. He goes to Frauenberg, and will lead hither The Spanish and Italian regiments.

Illo. No! Nay, Heaven forbid!

Wallenstein. And why should Heaven forbid?

Illo. Him!—that deceiver! Would'st thou trust to him The soldiery? Him wilt thou let slip from thee, 15 Now, in the very instant that decides us——

Tertsky. Thou wilt not do this!—No! I pray thee, no!

Wallenstein. Ye are whimsical.

Illo. O but for this time, Duke, Yield to our warning! Let him not depart.

Wallenstein. And why should I not trust him only this time, 20 Who have always trusted him? What, then, has happened, That I should lose my good opinion of him? In complaisance to your whims, not my own, I must, forsooth, give up a rooted judgment. Think not I am a woman. Having trusted him 25 E'en till to-day, to-day too will I trust him.

Tertsky. Must it be he—he only? Send another.

Wallenstein. It must be he, whom I myself have chosen; He is well fitted for the business. Therefore I gave it him.

Illo. Because he's an Italian— 30 Therefore is he well fitted for the business.

Wallenstein. I know you love them not—nor sire nor son— Because that I esteem them, love them—visibly Esteem them, love them more than you and others, E'en as they merit. Therefore are they eye-blights, 35 Thorns in your foot-path. But your jealousies, In what affect they me or my concerns? Are they the worse to me because you hate them? Love or hate one another as you will, I leave to each man his own moods and likings; 40 Yet know the worth of each of you to me.

Illo. Von Questenberg, while he was here, was always Lurking about with this Octavio.

Wallenstein. It happened with my knowledge and permission.

Illo. I know that secret messengers came to him 45 From Galas——

Wallenstein. That's not true.

Illo. O thou art blind With thy deep-seeing eyes.

Wallenstein. Thou wilt not shake My faith for me—my faith, which founds itself On the profoundest science. If 'tis false, Then the whole science of the stars is false. 50 For know, I have a pledge from fate itself, That he is the most faithful of my friends.

Illo. Hast thou a pledge, that this pledge is not false?

Wallenstein. There exist moments in the life of man, When he is nearer the great soul of the world 55 Than is man's custom, and possesses freely The power of questioning his destiny: And such a moment 'twas, when in the night Before the action in the plains of Ltzen, Leaning against a tree, thoughts crowding thoughts, 60 I looked out far upon the ominous plain. My whole life, past and future, in this moment Before my mind's eye glided in procession, And to the destiny of the next morning The spirit, filled with anxious presentiment, 65 Did knit the most removed futurity. Then said I also to myself, 'So many Dost thou command. They follow all thy stars, And as on some great number set their All Upon thy single head, and only man 70 The vessel of thy fortune. Yet a day Will come, when destiny shall once more scatter All these in many a several direction: Few be they who will stand out faithful to thee.' I yearn'd to know which one was faithfullest 75 Of all, this camp included. Great Destiny, Give me a sign! And he shall be the man, Who, on the approaching morning, comes the first To meet me with a token of his love: And thinking this, I fell into a slumber. 80 Then midmost in the battle was I led In spirit. Great the pressure and the tumult! Then was my horse killed under me: I sank: And over me away, all unconcernedly, Drove horse and rider—and thus trod to pieces 85 I lay, and panted like a dying man. Then seized me suddenly a saviour arm; It was Octavio's—I awoke at once, 'Twas broad day, and Octavio stood before me. 'My brother,' said he,'do not ride to-day 90 The dapple, as you're wont; but mount the horse Which I have chosen for thee. Do it, brother! In love to me. A strong dream warned me so.' It was the swiftness of this horse that snatched me From the hot pursuit of Bannier's dragoons. 95 My cousin rode the dapple on that day. And never more saw I or horse or rider.

Illo. That was a chance.

Wallenstein. There's no such thing as chance. In brief, 'tis signed and sealed that this Octavio Is my good angel—and now no word more. [He is retiring.

Tertsky. This is my comfort—Max remains our hostage. 100

Illo. And he shall never stir from here alive.

Wallenstein (stops and turns himself round). Are ye not like the women, who for ever Only recur to their first word, although One had been talking reason by the hour? 105 Know, that the human being's thoughts and deeds Are not, like ocean billows, blindly moved. The inner world, his microcosmus, is The deep shaft, out of which they spring eternally. They grow by certain laws, like the tree's fruit— 110 No juggling chance can metamorphose them. Have I the human kernel first examined? Then I know, too, the future will and action.

LINENOTES:

[38] me 1800, 1828, 1829.

[76] included] include 1800.

[89] Octavio 1800, 1828, 1829.

[98] Wallenstein (significantly). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[112] kernel 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IV

SCENE—A Chamber in PICCOLOMINI'S Dwelling-House.

OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, ISOLANI (entering).

Isolani. Here am I—Well! who comes yet of the others?

Octavio. But, first, a word with you, Count Isolani.

Isolani. Will it explode, ha?—Is the Duke about To make the attempt? In me, friend, you may place Full confidence.—Nay, put me to the proof. 5

Octavio. That may happen.

Isolani. Noble brother, I am Not one of those men who in words are valiant, And when it comes to action skulk away. The Duke has acted towards me as a friend. God knows it is so; and I owe him all—— 10 He may rely on my fidelity.

Octavio. That will be seen hereafter.

Isolani. Be on your guard, All think not as I think; and there are many Who still hold with the Court—yes, and they say That those stolen signatures bind them to nothing. 15

Octavio. I am rejoiced to hear it.

Isolani. You rejoice!

Octavio. That the Emperor has yet such gallant servants And loving friends.

Isolani. Nay, jeer not, I entreat you. They are no such worthless fellows, I assure you.

Octavio. I am assured already. God forbid 20 That I should jest!—In very serious earnest I am rejoiced to see an honest cause So strong.

Isolani. The Devil!—what!—why, what means this? Are you not, then——For what, then, am I here?

Octavio. That you may make full declaration, whether 25 You will be called the friend or enemy Of the Emperor.

Isolani. That declaration, friend, I'll make to him in whom a right is placed To put that question to me.

Octavio. Whether, Count, 30 That right is mine, this paper may instruct you.

Isolani. Why,—why—what! This is the Emperor's hand and seal!

[Reads.

'Whereas the officers collectively Throughout our army will obey the orders Of the Lieutenant-General Piccolomini 35 As from ourselves.'——Hem!—Yes! so!—Yes! yes!— I—I give you joy, Lieutenant-General!

Octavio. And you submit you to the order?

Isolani. I—— But you have taken me so by surprise— Time for reflection one must have——

Octavio. Two minutes. 40

Isolani. My God! But then the case is——

Octavio. Plain and simple. You must declare you, whether you determine To act a treason 'gainst your Lord and Sovereign, Or whether you will serve him faithfully.

Isolani. Treason!—My God!—But who talks then of treason? 45

Octavio. That is the case. The Prince-Duke is a traitor— Means to lead over to the enemy The Emperor's army.—Now, Count!—brief and full— Say, will you break your oath to the Emperor? Sell yourself to the enemy?—Say, will you? 50

Isolani. What mean you? I—I break my oath, d'ye say, To his Imperial Majesty? Did I say so?—When, when have I said that?

Octavio. You have not said it yet—not yet. This instant I wait to hear, Count, whether you will say it. 55

Isolani. Aye! that delights me now, that you yourself Bear witness for me that I never said so.

Octavio. And you renounce the Duke then?

Isolani. If he's planning Treason—why, treason breaks all bonds asunder.

Octavio. And are determined, too, to fight against him? 60

Isolani. He has done me service—but if he's a villain, Perdition seize him!—All scores are rubbed off.

Octavio. I am rejoiced that you're so well disposed. This night break off in the utmost secrecy With all the light-armed troops—it must appear 65 As came the order from the Duke himself. At Frauenberg's the place of rendezvous; There will Count Galas give you further orders.

Isolani. It shall be done. But you'll remember me With the Emperor—how well disposed you found me. 70

Octavio. I will not fail to mention it honourably.

[Exit ISOLANI. A Servant enters.

What, Colonel Butler!—Shew him up.

Isolani (returning). Forgive me too my bearish ways, old father! Lord God! how should I know, then, what a great Person I had before me.

Octavio. No excuses! 75

Isolani. I am a merry lad, and if at time A rash word might escape me 'gainst the court Amidst my wine—You know no harm was meant. [Exit.

Octavio. You need not be uneasy on that score. That has succeeded. Fortune favour us 80 With all the others only but as much!

LINENOTES:

[Before 2] Octavio (with an air of mystery). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 3] Isolani (assuming the same air of mystery). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[27] Isolani (with an air of defiance). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 32] Isolani (stammering). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[36] Hem 1800, 1828, 1829.

[40] must 1800, 1828, 1829.

[55] will 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE V

OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, BUTLER.

Butler. At your command, Lieutenant-General.

Octavio. Welcome, as honoured friend and visitor.

Butler. You do me too much honour.

Octavio (after both have seated themselves). You have not Returned the advances which I made you yesterday— Misunderstood them, as mere empty forms. 5 That wish proceeded from my heart—I was In earnest with you—for 'tis now a time In which the honest should unite most closely.

Butler. 'Tis only the like-minded can unite.

Octavio. True! and I name all honest men like-minded. 10 I never charge a man but with those acts To which his character deliberately Impels him; for alas! the violence Of blind misunderstandings often thrusts The very best of us from the right track. 15 You came through Frauenberg. Did the Count Galas Say nothing to you? Tell me. He's my friend.

Butler. His words were lost on me.

Octavio. It grieves me sorely To hear it: for his counsel was most wise. I had myself the like to offer.

Butler. Spare 20 Yourself the trouble—me th' embarrassment, To have deserved so ill your good opinion.

Octavio. The time is precious—let us talk openly. You know how matters stand here. Wallenstein Meditates treason—I can tell you further— 25 He has committed treason; but few hours Have past, since he a covenant concluded With the enemy. The messengers are now Full on their way to Egra and to Prague. To-morrow he intends to lead us over 30 To the enemy. But he deceives himself; For prudence wakes—the Emperor has still Many and faithful friends here, and they stand In closest union, mighty though unseen. This manifesto sentences the Duke— 35 Recalls the obedience of the army from him, And summons all the loyal, all the honest, To join and recognize in me their leader. Choose—will you share with us an honest cause? Or with the evil share an evil lot? 40

Butler (rises). His lot is mine.

Octavio. Is that your last resolve?

Butler. It is.

Octavio. Nay, but bethink you, Colonel Butler! As yet you have time. Within my faithful breast That rashly uttered word remains interred. Recall it, Butler! choose a better party: 45 You have not chosen the right one.

Butler (going). Any other Commands for me, Lieutenant-General?

Octavio. See your white hairs! Recall that word!

Butler. Farewell!

Octavio. What, would you draw this good and gallant sword In such a cause? Into a curse would you 50 Transform the gratitude which you have earned By forty years' fidelity from Austria?

Butler (laughing with bitterness). Gratitude from the House of Austria. [He is going.

Octavio (permits him to go as far as the door, then calls after him). Butler!

Butler. What wish you?

Octavio. How was't with the Count?

Butler. Count? what?

Octavio. The title that you wished, I mean. 55

Butler (starts in sudden passion). Hell and damnation!

Octavio. You petitioned for it— And your petition was repelled—Was it so?

Butler. Your insolent scoff shall not go by unpunished. Draw!

Octavio. Nay! your sword to 'ts sheath![718:1] and tell me calmly, How all that happened. I will not refuse you 60 Your satisfaction afterwards.—Calmly, Butler!

Butler. Be the whole world acquainted with the weakness For which I never can forgive myself. Lieutenant-General! Yes—I have ambition. Ne'er was I able to endure contempt. 65 It stung me to the quick, that birth and title Should have more weight than merit has in the army. I would fain not be meaner than my equal, So in an evil hour I let myself Be tempted to that measure—It was folly! 70 But yet so hard a penance it deserved not. It might have been refused; but wherefore barb And venom the refusal with contempt? Why dash to earth and crush with heaviest scorn The grey-haired man, the faithful veteran? 75 Why to the baseness of his parentage Refer him with such cruel roughness, only Because he had a weak hour and forgot himself? But nature gives a sting e'en to the worm Which wanton power treads on in sport and insult. 80

Octavio. You must have been calumniated. Guess you The enemy, who did you this ill service?

Butler. Be't who it will—a most low-hearted scoundrel, Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard, Some young squire of some ancient family, 85 In whose light I may stand, some envious knave, Stung to his soul by my fair self-earned honours!

Octavio. But tell me! Did the Duke approve that measure?

Butler. Himself impelled me to it, used his interest In my behalf with all the warmth of friendship. 90

Octavio. Ay? Are you sure of that?

Butler. I read the letter.

Octavio. And so did I—but the contents were different. By chance I'm in possession of that letter— Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you.

[He gives him the letter.

Butler. Ha! what is this?

Octavio. I fear me, Colonel Butler, 95 An infamous game have they been playing with you. The Duke, you say, impelled you to this measure? Now, in this letter talks he in contempt Concerning you, counsels the Minister To give sound chastisement to your conceit, 100 For so he calls it.

[BUTLER reads through the letter, his knees tremble, he seizes a chair, and sinks down in it.

You have no enemy, no persecutor; There's no one wishes ill to you. Ascribe The insult you received to the Duke only. His aim is clear and palpable. He wished 105 To tear you from your Emperor—he hoped To gain from your revenge what he well knew (What your long-tried fidelity convinced him) He ne'er could dare expect from your calm reason. A blind tool would he make you, in contempt 110 Use you, as means of most abandoned ends. He has gained his point. Too well has he succeeded In luring you away from that good path On which you had been journeying forty years!

Butler. Can e'er the Emperor's Majesty forgive me? 115

Octavio. More than forgive you. He would fain compensate For that affront, and most unmerited grievance Sustained by a deserving, gallant veteran. From his free impulse he confirms the present, Which the Duke made you for a wicked purpose. 120 The regiment, which you now command, is yours.

[BUTLER attempts to rise, sinks down again. He labours inwardly with violent emotions; tries to speak, and cannot. At length he takes his sword from the belt, and offers it to PICCOLOMINI.

Octavio. What wish you? Recollect yourself, friend.

Butler. Take it.

Octavio. But to what purpose? Calm yourself.

Butler. O take it! I am no longer worthy of this sword.

Octavio. Receive it then anew from my hands—and 125 Wear it with honour for the right cause ever.

Butler.——Perjure myself to such a gracious Sovereign!

Octavio. You'll make amends. Quick! break off from the Duke!

Butler. Break off from him!

Octavio. What now? Bethink thyself.

Butler (no longer governing his emotion). Only break off from him?—He dies!—he dies! 130

Octavio. Come after me to Frauenberg, where now All who are loyal are assembling under Counts Altringer and Galas. Many others I've brought to a remembrance of their duty. This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen. 135

Butler. Count Piccolomini! Dare that man speak Of honour to you, who once broke his troth?

Octavio. He, who repents so deeply of it, dares.

Butler. Then leave me here, upon my word of honour!

Octavio. What's your design?

Butler. Leave me and my regiment. 140

Octavio. I have full confidence in you. But tell me What are you brooding?

Butler. That the deed will tell you. Ask me no more at present. Trust to me. Ye may trust safely. By the living God Ye give him over, not to his good angel! 145 Farewell. [Exit BUTLER.

Servant (enters with a billet). A stranger left it, and is gone. The Prince-Duke's horses wait for you below.

[Exit Servant.

Octavio (reads). 'Be sure, make haste! Your faithful Isolan.' —O that I had but left this town behind me. To split upon a rock so near the haven!— 150 Away! This is no longer a safe place for me! Where can my son be tarrying?

FOOTNOTES:

[718:1] It probably did not suit Schiller's purposes to remark, what he doubtless knew, that Butler was of a noble Irish family, indeed one of the noblest. MS. R.

LINENOTES:

[18] me 1800, 1828, 1829.

[55] Octavio (coldly). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 92] [BUTLER is suddenly struck. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 115] Butler (his voice trembling). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 136] Butler (strides up and down in excessive agitation, then steps up to Octavio with resolved countenance). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VI

OCTAVIO and MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Octavio (advances to Max). I am going off, my son.

[Receiving no answer he takes his hand.

My son, farewell.

Max. Farewell.

Octavio. Thou wilt soon follow me?

Max. I follow thee? Thy way is crooked—it is not my way.

[OCTAVIO drops his hand, and starts back.

O, hadst thou been but simple and sincere, Ne'er had it come to this—all had stood otherwise. 5 He had not done that foul and horrible deed, The virtuous had retained their influence o'er him: He had not fallen into the snares of villains. Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice Did'st creep behind him—lurking for thy prey? 10 O, unblest falsehood! Mother of all evil! Thou misery-making demon, it is thou That sink'st us in perdition. Simple truth, Sustainer of the world, had saved us all! Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee! 15 Wallenstein has deceived me—O, most foully! But thou hast acted not much better.

Octavio. Son! My son, ah! I forgive thy agony!

Max. Was't possible? had'st thou the heart, my father, Had'st thou the heart to drive it to such lengths, 20 With cold premeditated purpose? Thou— Had'st thou the heart, to wish to see him guilty, Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall. Octavio, 'twill not please me.

Octavio. God in Heaven!

Max. O, woe is me! sure I have changed my nature. 25 How comes suspicion here—in the free soul? Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all Lied to me, all what I e'er loved or honoured. No! No! Not all! She—she yet lives for me, And she is true, and open as the Heavens! 30 Deceit is every where, hypocrisy, Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury: The single holy spot is now our love, The only unprofaned in human nature.

Octavio. Max!—we will go together. 'Twill be better. 35

Max. What? ere I've taken a last parting leave, The very last—no never!

Octavio. Spare thyself The pang of necessary separation. Come with me! Come, my son! [Attempts to take him with him.

Max. No! as sure as God lives, no! 40

Octavio. Come with me, I command thee! I, thy father.

Max. Command me what is human. I stay here.

Octavio. Max! in the Emperor's name I bid thee come.

Max. No Emperor has power to prescribe Laws to the heart; and would'st thou wish to rob me 45 Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me, Her sympathy? Must then a cruel deed Be done with cruelty? The unalterable Shall I perform ignobly—steal away, With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No! 50 She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish, Hear the complaints of the disparted soul, And weep tears o'er me. Oh! the human race Have steely souls—but she is as an angel. From the black deadly madness of despair 55 Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death!

Octavio. Thou wilt not tear thyself away; thou canst not. O, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue.

Max. Squander not thou thy words in vain. 60 The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it.

Octavio. Max! Max! if that most damnd thing could be, If thou—my son—my own blood—(dare I think it?) Do sell thyself to him, the infamous, Do stamp this brand upon our noble house, 65 Then shall the world behold the horrible deed, And in unnatural combat shall the steel Of the son trickle with the father's blood.

Max. O hadst thou always better thought of men, Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion! 70 Unholy miserable doubt! To him Nothing on earth remains unwrenched and firm, Who has no faith.

Octavio. And if I trust thy heart, Will it be always in thy power to follow it?

Max. The heart's voice thou hast not o'erpower'd—as little 75 Will Wallenstein be able to o'erpower it.

Octavio. O, Max! I see thee never more again!

Max. Unworthy of thee wilt thou never see me.

Octavio. I go to Frauenberg—the Pappenheimers I leave thee here, the Lothrings too; Toskana 80 And Tiefenbach remain here to protect thee. They love thee, and are faithful to their oath, And will far rather fall in gallant contest Than leave their rightful leader, and their honour.

Max. Rely on this, I either leave my life 85 In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen.

Octavio. Farewell, my son!

Max. Farewell!

Octavio. How? not one look Of filial love? No grasp of the hand at parting? It is a bloody war, to which we are going, And the event uncertain and in darkness. 90 So used we not to part—it was not so! Is it then true? I have a son no longer?

[MAX falls into his arms, they hold each [other] for a long time in a speechless embrace, then go away at different sides.

The Curtain drops.

LINENOTES:

[Before 1] (MAX enters almost in a state of derangement from extreme agitation, his eyes roll wildly, his walk is unsteady, and he appears not to observe his father, who stands at a distance, and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of compassion. He paces with long strides through the chamber, then stands still again, and at last throws himself into a chair, staring vacantly at the object directly before him). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 19] Max (rises and contemplates his father with looks of suspicion). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[28] what] that 1828, 1829.

[33] The single holy spot is our love 1800.

[Before 41] Octavio (more urgently). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 62] Octavio (trembling, and losing all self-command). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[63] think 1800.

[75] thou 1800.



THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN

A TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS



PREFACE OF THE TRANSLATOR TO THE FIRST EDITION

The two Dramas, PICCOLOMINI, or the first part of WALLENSTEIN, and WALLENSTEIN, are introduced in the original manuscript by a Prelude in one Act, entitled WALLENSTEIN'S CAMP. This is written in rhyme, and in nine-syllable verse, in the same lilting metre (if that expression may be permitted) 5 with the second Eclogue of Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar.

This Prelude possesses a sort of broad humour, and is not deficient in character; but to have translated it into prose, or into any other metre than that of the original, would have given a false notion both of its style and purport; to have 10 translated it into the same metre would have been incompatible with a faithful adherence to the sense of the German, from the comparative poverty of our language in rhymes; and it would have been unadvisable from the incongruity of those lax verses with the present taste of the English Public. Schiller's intention 15 seems to have been merely to have prepared his reader for the Tragedies by a lively picture of the laxity of discipline, and the mutinous dispositions of Wallenstein's soldiery. It is not necessary as a preliminary explanation. For these reasons it has been thought expedient not to translate it. 20

The admirers of Schiller, who have abstracted their conception of that author from the Robbers, and the Cabal and Love, plays in which the main interest is produced by the excitement of curiosity, and in which the curiosity is excited by terrible and extraordinary incident, will not have perused without some 25 portion of disappointment the Dramas, which it has been my employment to translate. They should, however, reflect that these are Historical Dramas, taken from a popular German History; that we must therefore judge of them in some measure with the feelings of Germans; or by analogy, with the interest 30 excited in us by similar Dramas in our own language. Few, I trust, would be rash or ignorant enough to compare Schiller with Shakspeare yet, merely as illustration, I would say that we should proceed to the perusal of Wallenstein, not from Lear or Othello, but from Richard the Second, or the 35 three parts of Henry the Sixth. We scarcely expect rapidity in an Historical Drama; and many prolix speeches are pardoned from characters, whose names and actions have formed the most amusing tales of our early life. On the other hand, there exist in these plays more individual beauties, 40 more passages the excellence of which will bear reflection, than in the former productions of Schiller. The description of the Astrological Tower, and the reflections of the Young Lover, which follow it, form in the original a fine poem; and my translation must have been wretched indeed, if it can have 45 wholly overclouded the beauties of the Scene in the first Act of the first Play between Questenberg, Max, and Octavio Piccolomini. If we except the Scene of the setting sun in the Robbers, I know of no part in Schiller's Plays which equals the whole of the first Scene of the fifth Act of the concluding Play. It 50 would be unbecoming in me to be more diffuse on this subject. A Translator stands connected with the original Author by a certain law of subordination, which makes it more decorous to point out excellencies than defects: indeed he is not likely to be a fair judge of either. The pleasure or disgust from his 55 own labour will mingle with the feelings that arise from an afterview of the original. Even in the first perusal of a work in any foreign language which we understand, we are apt to attribute to it more excellence than it really possesses from our own pleasurable sense of difficulty overcome without effect. 60 Translation of poetry into poetry is difficult, because the Translator must give a brilliancy to his language without that warmth of original conception, from which such brilliancy would follow of its own accord. But the translator of a living Author is encumbered with additional inconveniences. If he render his 65 original faithfully, as to the sense of each passage, he must necessarily destroy a considerable portion of the spirit; if he endeavour to give a work executed according to laws of compensation, he subjects himself to imputations of vanity, or misrepresentation. I have thought it my duty to remain 70 bound by the sense of my original, with as few exceptions as the nature of the languages rendered possible.

LINENOTES:

Title] Part Second. The Death of Wallenstein. A Tragedy. The Death of Wallenstein. Preface of the Translator. 1828, 1829.

[10] notion] idea 1800, 1828, 1829.

[21] conception] idea 1800, 1828, 1829.

[41] the excellence of which] whose excellence 1800, 1828, 1829.

[60] effect] effort 1834.

[66] sense] sense 1800, 1828, 1829.

[67] spirit] spirit 1800, 1828, 1829.

[68] compensation] compensation 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 72] S. T. Coleridge 1800, 1828, 1829.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

WALLENSTEIN, Duke of Friedland, Generalissimo of the Imperial Forces in the Thirty Years' War. DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND, Wife of Wallenstein. THEKLA, her Daughter, Princess of Friedland. THE COUNTESS TERTSKY, Sister of the Duchess. LADY NEUBRUNN. OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, Lieutenant-General. MAX PICCOLOMINI, his Son, Colonel of a Regiment of Cuirassiers. COUNT TERTSKY, the Commander of several Regiments, and Brother-in-law of Wallenstein. ILLO, Field Marshal, Wallenstein's confidant. BUTLER, an Irishman, Commander of a Regiment of Dragoons. GORDON, Governor of Egra. MAJOR GERALDIN. CAPTAIN DEVEREUX. CAPTAIN MACDONALD. NEUMANN, Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp to Tertsky. SWEDISH CAPTAIN. SENI. BURGOMASTER of Egra. ANSPESSADE of the Cuirassiers. GROOM OF THE CHAMBER, } belonging to the Duke. A PAGE, } CUIRASSIERS, DRAGOONS, SERVANTS.



THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN



ACT I

SCENE I

SCENE—A Chamber in the House of the DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND.

COUNTESS TERTSKY, THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN (the two latter sit at the same table at work).

Countess (watching them from the opposite side). So you have nothing, niece, to ask me? Nothing? I have been waiting for a word from you. And could you then endure in all this time Not once to speak his name?

[The COUNTESS rises and advances to her.

Why, how comes this? Perhaps I am already grown superfluous, 5 And other ways exist, besides through me? Confess it to me, Thekla! have you seen him?

Thekla. To-day and yesterday I have not seen him.

Countess. And not heard from him either? Come, be open!

Thekla. No syllable.

Countess. And still you are so calm? 10

Thekla. I am.

Countess. May't please you, leave us, Lady Neubrunn!

[Exit LADY NEUBRUNN.

LINENOTES:

[4] [THEKLA remaining silent, the, &c., 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

The COUNTESS, THEKLA.

Countess. It does not please me, Princess! that he holds Himself so still, exactly at this time.

Thekla. Exactly at this time?

Countess. He now knows all. 'Twere now the moment to declare himself.

Thekla. If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly. 5

Countess. 'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us. Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart Is now no more in nonage: for you love, And boldness dwells with love—that you have proved. Your nature moulds itself upon your father's 10 More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you Hear, what were too much for her fortitude.

Thekla. Enough! no further preface, I entreat you. At once, out with it! Be it what it may, It is not possible that it should torture me 15 More than this introduction. What have you To say to me? Tell me the whole and briefly!

Countess. You'll not be frightened—

Thekla. Name it, I entreat you.

Countess. It lies within your power to do your father A weighty service—

Thekla. Lies within my power? 20

Countess. Max Piccolomini loves you. You can link him Indissolubly to your father.

Thekla. I? What need of me for that? And is he not Already linked to him?

Countess. He was.

Thekla. And wherefore Should he not be so now—not be so always? 25

Countess. He cleaves to the Emperor too.

Thekla. Not more than duty And honour may demand of him.

Countess. We ask Proofs of his love, and not proofs of his honour. Duty and honour! Those are ambiguous words with many meanings. 30 You should interpret them for him: his love Should be the sole definer of his honour.

Thekla. How?

Countess. The Emperor or you must he renounce.

Thekla. He will accompany my father gladly In his retirement. From himself you heard, 35 How much he wished to lay aside the sword.

Countess. He must not lay the sword aside, we mean; He must unsheath it in your father's cause.

Thekla. He'll spend with gladness and alacrity His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause, 40 If shame or injury be intended him.

Countess. You will not understand me. Well, hear then! Your father has fallen off from the Emperor, And is about to join the enemy With the whole soldiery—

Thekla. Alas, my mother! 45

Countess. There needs a great example to draw on The army after him. The Piccolomini Possess the love and reverence of the troops; They govern all opinions, and wherever They lead the way, none hesitate to follow. 50 The son secures the father to our interests— You've much in your hands at this moment.

Thekla. Ah, My miserable mother! what a death-stroke Awaits thee!—No! She never will survive it.

Countess. She will accommodate her soul to that 55 Which is and must be. I do know your mother. The far-off future weights upon her heart With torture of anxiety; but is it Unalterably, actually present, She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly. 60

Thekla. O my fore-boding bosom! Even now, E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror! And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp; I knew it well—no sooner had I entered, A heavy ominous presentiment 65 Revealed to me, that spirits of death were hovering Over my happy fortune. But why think I First of myself? My mother! O my mother!

Countess. Calm yourself! Break not out in vain lamenting! Preserve you for your father the firm friend, 70 And for yourself the lover, all will yet Prove good and fortunate.

Thekla. Prove good? What good? Must we not part? Part ne'er to meet again?

Countess. He parts not from you! He can not part from you.

Thekla. Alas for his sore anguish! It will rend 75 His heart asunder.

Countess. If indeed he loves you, His resolution will be speedily taken.

Thekla. His resolution will be speedily taken— O do not doubt of that! A resolution! Does there remain one to be taken?

Countess. Hush! 80 Collect yourself! I hear your mother coming.

Thekla. How shall I bear to see her?

Countess. Collect yourself.

LINENOTES:

[2] still . . . this 1800, 1828, 1829.

[3] this 1800, 1828, 1829.

[9] you 1800, 1828, 1829.

[20] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

[31] You 1800, 1828, 1829.

[37] not 1800, 1828, 1829.

[72] Prove good 1800.

[74] can 1800.

[80] taken 1800.

SCENE III

To them enter the DUCHESS.

Duchess (to the Countess). Who was here, sister? I heard some one talking, And passionately too.

Countess. Nay! There was no one.

Duchess. I am grown so timorous, every trifling noise Scatters my spirits, and announces to me The footstep of some messenger of evil. 5 And can you tell me, sister, what the event is? Will he agree to do the Emperor's pleasure, And send the horse-regiments to the Cardinal? Tell me, has he dismissed Von Questenberg With a favourable answer?

Countess. No, he has not. 10

Duchess. Alas! then all is lost! I see it coming, The worst that can come! Yes, they will depose him; The accursd business of the Regenspurg diet Will all be acted o'er again!

Countess. No! never! Make your heart easy, sister, as to that. 15

[THEKLA throws herself upon her mother, and enfolds her in her arms, weeping.

Duchess. Yes, my poor child! Thou too hast lost a most affectionate godmother In the Empress. O that stern unbending man! In this unhappy marriage what have I Not suffered, not endured. For ev'n as if 20 I had been linked on to some wheel of fire That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onward, I have passed a life of frights and horrors with him, And ever to the brink of some abyss With dizzy headlong violence he whirls me. 25 Nay, do not weep, my child! Let not my sufferings Presignify unhappiness to thee, Nor blacken with their shade the fate that waits thee. There lives no second Friedland: thou, my child, Hast not to fear thy mother's destiny. 30

Thekla. O let us supplicate him, dearest mother! Quick! quick! here's no abiding-place for us. Here every coming hour broods into life Some new affrightful monster.

Duchess. Thou wilt share An easier, calmer lot, my child! We too, 35 I and thy father, witnessed happy days. Still think I with delight of those first years, When he was making progress with glad effort, When his ambition was a genial fire, Not that consuming flame which now it is. 40 The Emperor loved him, trusted him: and all He undertook could not but be successful. But since that ill-starred day at Regenspurg, Which plunged him headlong from his dignity, A gloomy uncompanionable spirit, 45 Unsteady and suspicious, has possessed him. His quiet mind forsook him, and no longer Did he yield up himself in joy and faith To his old luck, and individual power; But thenceforth turned his heart and best affections 50 All to those cloudy sciences, which never Have yet made happy him who followed them.

Countess. You see it, sister! as your eyes permit you. But surely this is not the conversation To pass the time in which we are waiting for him. 55 You know he will be soon here. Would you have him Find her in this condition?

Duchess. Come, my child! Come, wipe away thy tears, and shew thy father A cheerful countenance. See, the tie-knot here Is off—this hair must not hang so dishevelled. 60 Come, dearest! dry thy tears up. They deform Thy gentle eye—well now—what was I saying? Yes, in good truth, this Piccolomini Is a most noble and deserving gentleman.

Countess. That is he, sister!

Thekla (to the Countess). Aunt, you will excuse me? 65

[Is going.

Countess. But whither? See, your father comes.

Thekla. I cannot see him now.

Countess. Nay, but bethink you.

Thekla. Believe me, I cannot sustain his presence.

Countess. But he will miss you, will ask after you.

Duchess. What now? Why is she going? 70

Countess. She's not well.

Duchess. What ails then my beloved child?

[Both follow the PRINCESS, and endeavour to detain her. During this WALLENSTEIN appears, engaged in conversation with ILLO.

LINENOTES:

[Between 14, 15] [THEKLA, in extreme agitation, throws herself, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[28] fate 1800.

[40] flame 1800.

[53] your 1800.

[56] be soon] soon be 1828, 1829.

[57] her 1800, 1828, 1829.

[65] Thekla (to the Countess, with marks of great oppression of spirits). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 72] Duchess (anxiously). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IV

WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA.

Wallenstein. All quiet in the camp?

Illo. It is all quiet.

Wallenstein. In a few hours may couriers come from Prague With tidings, that this capital is ours. Then we may drop the mask, and to the troops Assembled in this town make known the measure 5 And its result together. In such cases Example does the whole. Whoever is foremost Still leads the herd. An imitative creature Is man. The troops at Prague conceive no other, Than that the Pilsen army has gone through 10 The forms of homage to us; and in Pilsen They shall swear fealty to us, because The example has been given them by Prague. Butler, you tell me, has declared himself.

Illo. At his own bidding, unsolicited, 15 He came to offer you himself and regiment.

Wallenstein. I find we must not give implicit credence To every warning voice that makes itself Be listened to in the heart. To hold us back, Oft does the lying spirit counterfeit 20 The voice of Truth and inward Revelation, Scattering false oracles. And thus have I To intreat forgiveness, for that secretly I've wrong'd this honourable gallant man, This Butler: for a feeling, of the which 25 I am not master (fear I would not call it), Creeps o'er me instantly, with sense of shuddering, At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion. And this same man, against whom I am warned, This honest man is he, who reaches to me 30 The first pledge of my fortune.

Illo. And doubt not That his example will win over to you The best men in the army.

Wallenstein. Go and send Isolani hither. Send him immediately. He is under recent obligations to me. 35 With him will I commence the trial. Go. [ILLO exit.

Wallenstein (turns himself round to the females). Lo, there the mother with the darling daughter! For once we'll have an interval of rest— Come! my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour In the beloved circle of my family. 40

Countess. 'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother.

Wallenstein (to the Countess aside). Can she sustain the news? Is she prepared?

Countess. Not yet.

Wallenstein. Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me, For there is a good spirit on thy lips. Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill: 45 She says a voice of melody dwells in thee, Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice Will drive away from me the evil demon That beats his black wings close above my head.

Duchess. Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father 50 Hear some small trial of thy skill.

Thekla. My mother! I—

Duchess. Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer Thy father.

Thekla. O my mother! I—I cannot.

Countess. How, what is that, niece?

Thekla (to the Countess). O spare me—sing—now—in this sore anxiety, 55 Of the o'erburthen'd soul—to sing to him, Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong Into her grave!

Duchess. How, Thekla? Humoursome? What! shall thy father have expressed a wish In vain?

Countess. Here is the lute.

Thekla. My God! how can I— 60

[The orchestra plays. During the ritornello THEKLA expresses in her gestures and countenance the struggle of her feelings: and at the moment that she should begin to sing, contracts herself together, as one shuddering, throws the instrument down, and retires abruptly.

Duchess. My child! O she is ill—

Wallenstein. What ails the maiden? Say, is she often so?

Countess. Since then herself Has now betrayed it, I too must no longer Conceal it.

Wallenstein. What?

Countess. She loves him!

Wallenstein. Loves him! Whom?

Countess. Max does she love! Max Piccolomini. 65 Hast thou ne'er noticed it? Nor yet my sister?

Duchess. Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart? God's blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou needest Never take shame upon thee for thy choice.

Countess. This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it 70 To thine own self. Thou shouldest have chosen another To have attended her.

Wallenstein. And does he know it?

Countess. Yes, and he hopes to win her.

Wallenstein. Hopes to win her! Is the boy mad?

Countess. Well—hear it from themselves.

Wallenstein. He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland's daughter! 75

Aye?—The thought pleases me. The young man has no grovelling spirit.

Countess. Since Such and such constant favour you have shewn him—

Wallenstein. He chooses finally to be my heir. And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honour him. 80 But must he therefore be my daughter's husband! Is it daughters only? Is it only children That we must shew our favour by?

Duchess. His noble disposition and his manners—

Wallenstein. Win him my heart, but not my daughter.

Duchess. Then 85 His rank, his ancestors—

Wallenstein. Ancestors! What? He is a subject, and my son-in-law I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe.

Duchess. O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high. Lest we should fall too low.

Wallenstein. What? have I paid 90 A price so heavy to ascend this eminence, And jut out high above the common herd, Only to close the mighty part I play In Life's great drama, with a common kinsman? Have I for this— [pause.] She is the only thing 95 That will remain behind of me on earth; And I will see a crown around her head, Or die in the attempt to place it there. I hazard all—all! and for this alone, To lift her into greatness— 100 Yea, in this moment, in the which we are speaking— [pause. And I must now, like a soft-hearted father, Couple together in good peasant fashion The pair, that chance to suit each other's liking— And I must do it now, even now, when I 105 Am stretching out the wreath that is to twine My full accomplished work—no! she is the jewel, Which I have treasured long, my last, my noblest, And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me For less than a king's sceptre.

Duchess. O my husband! 110 You're ever building, building to the clouds, Still building higher, and still higher building, And ne'er reflect, that the poor narrow basis Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column.

Wallenstein (to the Countess). Have you announced the place of residence 115 Which I have destined for her?

Countess. No! not yet. 'Twere better you yourself disclosed it to her.

Duchess. How? Do we not return to Karn then?

Wallenstein. No.

Duchess. And to no other of your lands or seats?

Wallenstein. You would not be secure there.

Duchess. Not secure 120 In the Emperor's realms, beneath the Emperor's Protection?

Wallenstein. Friedland's wife may be permitted No longer to hope that.

Duchess. O God in heaven! And have you brought it even to this?

Wallenstein. In Holland You'll find protection.

Duchess. In a Lutheran country? 125 What? And you send us into Lutheran countries?

Wallenstein. Duke Franz of Lauenburg conducts you thither.

Duchess. Duke Franz of Lauenburg? The ally of Sweden, the Emperor's enemy.

Wallenstein. The Emperor's enemies are mine no longer. 130

Duchess (casting a look of terror on the Duke and the Countess). Is it then true? It is. You are degraded? Deposed from the command? O God in heaven!

Countess (aside to the Duke). Leave her in this belief. Thou seest she cannot Support the real truth.

LINENOTES:

[26] fear 1800, 1828, 1829.

[48] from] for 1800, 1828, 1829.

[56] him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[95]

Have I for this— [Stops suddenly, repressing himself.

1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 101] [He recollects himself. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[118] Krn 1800.

[123] that 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE V

To them enter COUNT TERTSKY.

Countess. —Tertsky! What ails him? What an image of affright! He looks as he had seen a ghost.

Tertsky (leading Wallenstein aside). Is it thy command that all the Croats—

Wallenstein. Mine! 5

Tertsky. We are betrayed.

Wallenstein. What?

Tertsky. They are off! This night The Jgers likewise—all the villages In the whole round are empty.

Wallenstein. Isolani?

Tertsky. Him thou hast sent away. Yes, surely.

Wallenstein. I?

Tertsky. No! Hast thou not sent him off? Nor Deodate? 10 They are vanished both of them.

SCENE VI

To them enter ILLO.

Illo. Has Tertsky told thee?

Tertsky. He knows all.

Illo. And likewise That Esterhatzy, Goetz, Maradas, Kaunitz, Kolatto, Palfi, have forsaken thee?

Tertsky. Damnation!

Wallenstein (winks at them). Hush!

Countess (who has been watching them anxiously from the distance and now advances to them). Tertsky! Heaven! What is it? What has happened? 5

Wallenstein (scarcely suppressing his emotions). Nothing! let us be gone!

Tertsky (following him). Theresa, it is nothing.

Countess (holding him back). Nothing? Do I not see, that all the lifeblood Has left your cheeks—look you not like a ghost? That even my brother but affects a calmness? 10

Page (enters). An Aid-de-Camp enquires for the Count Tertsky.

[TERTSKY follows the Page.

Wallenstein. Go, hear his business. [To ILLO. This could not have happened So unsuspected without mutiny. Who was on guard at the gates?

Illo. 'Twas Tiefenbach. 15

Wallenstein. Let Tiefenbach leave guard without delay, And Tertsky's grenadiers relieve him. [ILLO is going. Stop! Hast thou heard aught of Butler?

Illo. Him I met. He will be here himself immediately. Butler remains unshaken.

[ILLO exit. WALLENSTEIN is following him.

Countess. Let him not leave thee, sister! go, detain him! 20 There's some misfortune.

Duchess (clinging to him). Gracious heaven! What is it?

Wallenstein. Be tranquil! leave me, sister! dearest wife! We are in camp, and this is nought unusual; Here storm and sunshine follow one another With rapid interchanges. These fierce spirits 25 Champ the curb angrily, and never yet Did quiet bless the temples of the leader. If I am to stay, go you. The plaints of women Ill suit the scene where men must act.

[He is going: TERTSKY returns.

Tertsky. Remain here. From this window must we see it. 30

Wallenstein (to the Countess). Sister, retire!

Countess. No—never.

Wallenstein. 'Tis my will.

Tertsky (leads the Countess aside, and drawing her attention to the Duchess). Theresa!

Duchess. Sister, come! since he commands it.

LINENOTES:

[4] Wallenstein (winks to them). 1800.

SCENE VII

WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY.

Wallenstein (stepping to the window). What now, then?

Tertsky. There are strange movements among all the troops, And no one knows the cause. Mysteriously, With gloomy silentness, the several corps Marshal themselves, each under its own banners. 5 Tiefenbach's corps makes threatening movements; only The Pappenheimers still remain aloof In their own quarters, and let no one enter.

Wallenstein. Does Piccolomini appear among them?

Tertsky. We are seeking him: he is no where to be met with. 10

Wallenstein. What did the Aid-de-Camp deliver to you?

Tertsky. My regiments had dispatched him; yet once more They swear fidelity to thee, and wait The shout for onset, all prepared, and eager.

Wallenstein. But whence arose this larum in the camp? 15 It should have been kept secret from the army, Till fortune had decided for us at Prague.

Tertsky. O that thou hadst believed me! Yester evening Did we conjure thee not to let that skulker, That fox, Octavio, pass the gates of Pilsen. 20 Thou gav'st him thy own horses to flee from thee.

Wallenstein. The old tune still! Now, once for all, no more Of this suspicion—it is doting folly.

Tertsky. Thou did'st confide in Isolani too; And lo! he was the first that did desert thee. 25

Wallenstein. It was but yesterday I rescued him From abject wretchedness. Let that go by. I never reckon'd yet on gratitude. And wherein doth he wrong in going from me? He follows still the god whom all his life 30 He has worshipped at the gaming table. With My Fortune, and my seeming destiny, He made the bond, and broke it not with me. I am but the ship in which his hopes were stowed, And with the which well-pleased and confident 35 He traversed the open sea; now he beholds it In imminent jeopardy among the coast-rocks, And hurries to preserve his wares. As light As the free bird from the hospitable twig Where it had nested, he flies off from me: 40 No human tie is snapped betwixt us two. Yea, he deserves to find himself deceived, Who seeks a heart in the unthinking man. Like shadows on a stream, the forms of life Impress their characters on the smooth forehead, 45 Nought sinks into the bosom's silent depth: Quick sensibility of pain and pleasure Moves the light fluids lightly; but no soul Warmeth the inner frame.

Tertsky. Yet, would I rather Trust the smooth brow than that deep furrowed one. 50

LINENOTES:

[6] makes] make 1800, 1828, 1829.

[11] Aid-de-Camp] Aide-de-Camp 1800.

[32] FORTUNE 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VIII

WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY, ILLO.

Illo. Treason and mutiny!

Tertsky. And what further now?

Illo. Tiefenbach's soldiers, when I gave the orders To go off guard—Mutinous villains!

Tertsky. Well!

Wallenstein. What followed?

Illo. They refused obedience to them. 5

Tertsky. Fire on them instantly! Give out the order.

Wallenstein. Gently! what cause did they assign?

Illo. No other, They said, had right to issue orders but Lieutenant-General Piccolomini.

Wallenstein. What? How is that? 10

Illo. He takes that office on him by commission, Under sign-manual of the Emperor.

Tertsky. From the Emperor—hear'st thou, Duke?

Illo. At his incitement The Generals made that stealthy flight—

Tertsky. Duke! hearest thou?

Illo. Caraffa too, and Montecuculi, 15 Are missing, with six other Generals, All whom he had induced to follow him. This plot he has long had in writing by him From the Emperor; but 'twas finally concluded With all the detail of the operation 20 Some days ago with the Envoy Questenberg.

[WALLENSTEIN sinks down into a chair and covers his face.

Tertsky. O hadst thou but believed me!

LINENOTES:

[Before 1] Illo (who enters agitated with rage). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[9] Piccolomini 1800, 1828, 1829.

[10] Wallenstein (in a convulsion of agony). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IX

To them enter the COUNTESS.

Countess. This suspense, This horrid fear—I can no longer bear it. For heaven's sake, tell me, what has taken place.

Illo. The regiments are all falling off from us.

Tertsky. Octavio Piccolomini is a traitor. 5

Countess. O my foreboding! [Rushes out of the room.

Tertsky. Hadst thou but believed me! Now seest thou how the stars have lied to thee.

Wallenstein. The stars lie not; but we have here a work Wrought counter to the stars and destiny. The science is still honest: this false heart 10 Forces a lie on the truth-telling heaven. On a divine law divination rests; Where nature deviates from that law, and stumbles Out of her limits, there all science errs. True, I did not suspect! Were it superstition 15 Never by such suspicion t' have affronted The human form, O may that time ne'er come In which I shame me of the infirmity. The wildest savage drinks not with the victim Into whose breast he means to plunge the sword. 20 This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed: 'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine; A bad heart triumphed o'er an honest one. No shield received the assassin stroke; thou plungest Thy weapon on an unprotected breast— 25 Against such weapons I am but a child.

SCENE X

To these enter BUTLER.

Tertsky (meeting him). O look there! Butler! Here we've still a friend!

Wallenstein (meets him with outspread arms, and embraces him with warmth). Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun Looks out upon us more revivingly In the earliest month of spring, Than a friend's countenance in such an hour. 5

Butler. My General: I come—

Wallenstein (leaning on Butler's shoulders). Know'st thou already? That old man has betrayed me to the Emperor. What say'st thou? Thirty years have we together Lived out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship. We have slept in one camp-bed, drunk from one glass, 10 One morsel shared! I leaned myself on him, As now I lean me on thy faithful shoulder. And now in the very moment, when, all love, All confidence, my bosom beat to his, He sees and takes the advantage, stabs the knife 15 Slowly into my heart. [He hides his face on BUTLER'S breast.

Butler. Forget the false one. What is your present purpose?

Wallenstein. Well remembered! Courage my soul! I am still rich in friends, Still loved by Destiny; for in the moment, That it unmasks the plotting hypocrite, 20 It sends and proves to me one faithful heart. Of the hypocrite no more! Think not, his loss Was that which struck the pang: O no! his treason Is that which strikes this pang! No more of him! Dear to my heart, and honoured were they both, 25 And the young man—yes—he did truly love me, He—he—has not deceived me. But enough, Enough of this—Swift counsel now beseems us. The Courier, whom Count Kinsky sent from Prague I expect him every moment: and whatever 30 He may bring with him, we must take good care To keep it from the mutineers. Quick, then! Dispatch some messenger you can rely on To meet him, and conduct him to me. [ILLO is going.

Butler (detaining him). My General, whom expect you then?

Wallenstein. The Courier 35 Who brings me word of the event at Prague.

Butler (hesitating). Hem!

Wallenstein. And what now?

Butler. You do not know it?

Wallenstein. Well?

Butler. From what that larum in the camp arose?

Wallenstein. From what?

Butler. That Courier.

Wallenstein. Well?

Butler. Is already here.

Tertsky and Illo (at the same time). Already here?

Wallenstein. My Courier?

Butler. For some hours. 40

Wallenstein. And I not know it?

Butler. The centinels detain him In custody.

Illo. Damnation!

Butler. And his letter Was broken open, and is circulated Through the whole camp.

Wallenstein. You know what it contains?

Butler. Question me not.

Tertsky. Illo! alas for us. 45

Wallenstein. Hide nothing from me—I can hear the worst. Prague then is lost. It is. Confess it freely.

Butler. Yes! Prague is lost. And all the several regiments At Budweiss, Tabor, Brannau, Konigingratz, At Brun and Znaym, have forsaken you, 50 And ta'en the oaths of fealty anew To the Emperor. Yourself, with Kinsky, Tertsky, And Illo have been sentenced.

[TERTSKY and ILLO express alarm and fury. WALLENSTEIN remains firm and collected.

Wallenstein. 'Tis decided! 'Tis well! I have received a sudden cure From all the pangs of doubt: with steady stream 55 Once more my life-blood flows! My soul's secure! In the night only Friedland's stars can beam. Lingering irresolute, with fitful fears I drew the sword—'twas with an inward strife, While yet the choice was mine. The murderous knife 60 Is lifted for my heart! Doubt disappears! I fight now for my head and for my life.

[Exit WALLENSTEIN; the others follow him.

LINENOTES:

[11] him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[12] thy 1800, 1828, 1829.

[21] faithful 1800.

[26] did 1800.

[39] Wallenstein (with eager expectation). Well? 1800, 1828, 1829.

[42] Illo (stamping with his foot). Damnation! 1800, 1828, 1829.

[48] is 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE XI

Countess Tertsky (enters from a side room). I can endure no longer. No! [Looks around her. Where are they? No one is here. They leave me all alone, Alone in this sore anguish of suspense. And I must wear the outward shew of calmness Before my sister, and shut in within me 5 The pangs and agonies of my crowded bosom. It is not to be borne.—If all should fail; If—if he must go over to the Swedes, An empty-handed fugitive, and not As an ally, a covenanted equal, 10 A proud commander with his army following; If we must wander on from land to land, Like the Count Palatine, of fallen greatness An ignominious monument—But no! That day I will not see! And could himself 15 Endure to sink so low, I would not bear To see him so low sunken.

SCENE XII

COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA.

Thekla (endeavouring to hold back the Duchess). Dear mother, do stay here!

Duchess. No! Here is yet Some frightful mystery that is hidden from me. Why does my sister shun me? Don't I see her Full of suspense and anguish roam about From room to room?—Art thou not full of terror? 5 And what import these silent nods and gestures Which stealthwise thou exchangest with her?

Thekla. Nothing: Nothing, dear Mother!

Duchess (to the Countess). Sister, I will know.

Countess. What boots it now to hide it from her? Sooner Or later she must learn to hear and bear it. 10 'Tis not the time now to indulge infirmity, Courage beseems us now, a heart collected, And exercise and previous discipline Of fortitude. One word, and over with it! Sister, you are deluded. You believe, 15 The Duke has been deposed—The Duke is not Deposed—he is——

Thekla (going to the Countess). What? do you wish to kill her?

Countess. The Duke is——

Thekla (throwing her arms round her mother). O stand firm! stand firm, my mother!

Countess. Revolted is the Duke, he is preparing 20 To join the enemy, the army leave him, And all has failed.

LINENOTES:

[10] must 1800, 1828, 1829.

[12] collected] collect 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 22] [During these words the DUCHESS totters, and falls in a fainting fit into the arms of her daughter. While THEKLA is calling for help, the curtain drops. 1800, 1828, 1829.



ACT II

SCENE I

SCENE—A spacious Room in the DUKE OF FRIEDLAND'S Palace.

Wallenstein (in armour). Thou hast gained thy point, Octavio! Once more am I Almost as friendless as at Regenspurg. There I had nothing left me, but myself— But what one man can do, you have now experience. The twigs have you hewed off, and here I stand 5 A leafless trunk. But in the sap within Lives the creating power, and a new world May sprout forth from it. Once already have I Proved myself worth an army to you—I alone! Before the Swedish strength your troops had melted; 10 Beside the Lech sank Tilly, your last hope; Into Bavaria, like a winter torrent, Did that Gustavus pour, and at Vienna In his own palace did the Emperor tremble. Soldiers were scarce, for still the multitude 15 Follow the luck: all eyes were turned on me, Their helper in distress; the Emperor's pride Bowed itself down before the man he had injured. 'Twas I must rise, and with creative word Assemble forces in the desolate camps. 20 I did it. Like a god of war, my name Went through the world. The drum was beat—and, lo! The plough, the work-shop is forsaken, all Swarm to the old familiar long-loved banners; And as the wood-choir rich in melody 25 Assemble quick around the bird of wonder, When first his throat swells with his magic song, So did the warlike youth of Germany Crowd in around the image of my eagle. I feel myself the being that I was. 30 It is the soul that builds itself a body, And Friedland's camp will not remain unfilled. Lead then your thousands out to meet me—true! They are accustomed under me to conquer, But not against me. If the head and limbs 35 Separate from each other, 'twill be soon Made manifest, in which the soul abode.

(ILLO and TERTSKY enter.)

Courage, friends! Courage! We are still unvanquished; I feel my footing firm; five regiments, Tertsky, Are still our own, and Butler's gallant troops; 40 And a host of sixteen thousand Swedes to-morrow. I was not stronger, when nine years ago I marched forth, with glad heart and high of hope, To conquer Germany for the Emperor.

LINENOTES:

[11] sank] sunk 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, TERTSKY. (To them enter NEUMANN, who leads TERTSKY aside, and talks with him.)

Tertsky. What do they want?

Wallenstein. What now?

Tertsky. Ten Cuirassiers From Pappenheim request leave to address you In the name of the regiment.

Wallenstein (hastily to Neumann). Let them enter.

[Exit NEUMANN.

This May end in something. Mark you. They are still Doubtful, and may be won. 5

SCENE III

WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY, ILLO, Ten Cuirassiers (led by an Anspessade,[745:1] march up and arrange themselves, after the word of command, in one front before the DUKE, and make their obeisance. He takes his hat off, and immediately covers himself again).

Anspessade. Halt! Front! Present!

Wallenstein (after he has run through them with his eye, to the Anspessade). I know thee well. Thou art out of Brggin in Flanders: Thy name is Mercy.

Anspessade. Henry Mercy.

Wallenstein. Thou wert cut off on the march, surrounded by the Hessians, and didst fight thy way with a hundred and 5 eighty men through their thousand.

Anspessade. 'Twas even so, General!

Wallenstein. What reward hadst thou for this gallant exploit?

Anspessade. That which I asked for: the honour to serve in this corps. 10

Wallenstein (turning to a second). Thou wert among the volunteers that seized and made booty of the Swedish battery at Altenburg.

Second Cuirassier. Yes, General!

Wallenstein. I forget no one with whom I have exchanged 15 words. (A pause). Who sends you?

Anspessade. Your noble regiment, the Cuirassiers of Piccolomini.

Wallenstein. Why does not your colonel deliver in your request, according to the custom of service? 20

Anspessade. Because we would first know whom we serve.

Wallenstein. Begin your address.

Anspessade (giving the word of command). Shoulder your arms!

Wallenstein (turning to a third). Thy name is Risbeck, Cologne is thy birthplace. 25

Third Cuirassier. Risbeck of Cologne.

Wallenstein. It was thou that broughtest in the Swedish colonel, Diebald, prisoner, in the camp at Nuremberg.

Third Cuirassier. It was not I, General!

Wallenstein. Perfectly right! It was thy elder brother: 30 thou hadst a younger brother too: Where did he stay?

Third Cuirassier. He is stationed at Olmutz with the Imperial army.

Wallenstein (to the Anspessade). Now then—begin.

Anspessade. There came to hand a letter from the Emperor 35 Commanding us——

Wallenstein. Who chose you?

Anspessade. Every company Drew its own man by lot.

Wallenstein. Now! to the business.

Anspessade. There came to hand a letter from the Emperor Commanding us collectively, from thee All duties of obedience to withdraw, 40 Because thou wert an enemy and traitor.

Wallenstein. And what did you determine?

Anspessade. All our comrades At Brannau, Budweiss, Prague and Olmutz, have Obeyed already, and the regiments here, 45 Tiefenbach and Toscana, instantly Did follow their example. But—but we Do not believe that thou art an enemy And traitor to thy country, hold it merely For lie and trick, and a trumped-up Spanish story! 50 Thyself shalt tell us what thy purpose is, For we have found thee still sincere and true: No mouth shall interpose itself betwixt The gallant General and the gallant troops.

Wallenstein. Therein I recognize my Pappenheimers. 55

Anspessade. And this proposal makes thy regiment to thee: Is it thy purpose merely to preserve In thy own hands this military sceptre, Which so becomes thee, which the Emperor Made over to thee by a covenant? 60 Is it thy purpose merely to remain Supreme commander of the Austrian armies?— We will stand by thee, General! and guarantee Thy honest rights against all opposition. And should it chance, that all the other regiments 65 Turn from thee, by ourselves will we stand forth Thy faithful soldiers, and, as is our duty, Far rather let ourselves be cut to pieces, Than suffer thee to fall. But if it be As the Emperor's letter says, if it be true, 70 That thou in traitorous wise wilt lead us over To the enemy, which God in heaven forbid! Then we too will forsake thee, and obey That letter——

Wallenstein. Hear me, children!

Anspessade. Yes, or no! There needs no other answer.

Wallenstein. Yield attention. 75 You're men of sense, examine for yourselves; Ye think, and do not follow with the herd: And therefore have I always shewn you honour Above all others, suffered you to reason; Have treated you as free men, and my orders 80 Were but the echoes of your prior suffrage.—

Anspessade. Most fair and noble has thy conduct been To us, my General! With thy confidence Thou hast honoured us, and shewn us grace and favour Beyond all other regiments; and thou seest 85 We follow not the common herd. We will Stand by thee faithfully. Speak but one word— Thy word shall satisfy us, that it is not A treason which thou meditatest—that Thou meanest not to lead the army over 90 To the enemy; nor e'er betray thy country.

Wallenstein. Me, me are they betraying. The Emperor Hath sacrificed me to my enemies, And I must fall, unless my gallant troops Will rescue me. See! I confide in you. 95 And be your hearts my strong hold! At this breast The aim is taken, at this hoary head. This is your Spanish gratitude, this is our Requital for that murderous fight at Lutzen! For this we threw the naked breast against 100 The halbert, made for this the frozen earth Our bed, and the hard stone our pillow! never stream Too rapid for us, nor wood too impervious: With cheerful spirit we pursued that Mansfield Through all the turns and windings of his flight; 105 Yea, our whole life was but one restless march; And homeless, as the stirring wind, we travelled O'er the war-wasted earth. And now, even now, That we have well-nigh finished the hard toil, The unthankful, the curse-laden toil of weapons, 110 With faithful indefatigable arm Have rolled the heavy war-load up the hill, Behold! this boy of the Emperor's bears away The honours of the peace, an easy prize! He'll weave, forsooth, into his flaxen locks 115 The olive branch, the hard-earn'd ornament Of this grey head, grown grey beneath the helmet.

Anspessade. That shall he not, while we can hinder it! No one, but thou, who hast conducted it With fame, shall end this war, this frightful war. 120 Thou led'st us out into the bloody field Of death, thou and no other shalt conduct us home, Rejoicing, to the lovely plains of peace— Shalt share with us the fruits of the long toil—

Wallenstein. What? Think you then at length in late old age 125 To enjoy the fruits of toil? Believe it not. Never, no never, will you see the end Of the contest! you and me, and all of us, This war will swallow up! War, war, not peace, Is Austria's wish; and therefore, because I 130 Endeavoured after peace, therefore I fall. For what cares Austria, how long the war Wears out the armies and lays waste the world? She will but wax and grow amid the ruin, And still win new domains.

[The Cuirassiers express agitation by their gestures.

Ye're moved—I see 135 A noble rage flash from your eyes, ye warriors! Oh that my spirit might possess you now Daring as once it led you to the battle! Ye would stand by me with your veteran arms, Protect me in my rights; and this is noble! 140 But think not that you can accomplish it, Your scanty number! to no purpose will you Have sacrificed you for your General. No! let us tread securely, seek for friends; The Swedes have proffered us assistance, let us 145 Wear for a while the appearance of good will, And use them for your profit, till we both Carry the fate of Europe in our hands, And from our camp to the glad jubilant world Lead Peace forth with the garland on her head! 150

Anspessade. 'Tis then but mere appearances which thou Dost put on with the Swede? Thou'lt not betray The Emperor? Wilt not turn us into Swedes? This is the only thing which we desire To learn from thee.

Wallenstein. What care I for the Swedes? 155 I hate them as I hate the pit of hell, And under Providence I trust right soon To chase them to their homes across their Baltic. My cares are only for the whole: I have A heart—it bleeds within me for the miseries 160 And piteous groaning of my fellow-Germans. Ye are but common men, but yet ye think With minds not common; ye appear to me Worthy before all others, that I whisper ye A little word or two in confidence! 165 See now! already for full fifteen years The war-torch has continued burning, yet No rest, no pause of conflict. Swede and German, Papist and Lutheran! neither will give way To the other, every hand's against the other. 170 Each one is party and no one a judge. Where shall this end? Where's he that will unravel This tangle, ever tangling more and more. It must be cut asunder. I feel that I am the man of destiny, 175 And trust, with your assistance, to accomplish it.

FOOTNOTES:

[745:1] Anspessade, in German, Gefreiter, a soldier inferior to a corporal, but above the centinels. The German name implies that he is exempt from mounting guard.

LINENOTES:

[21] whom 1800, 1828, 1829.

[36] Wallenstein (interrupting him). Who chose you? 1800, 1828, 1829.

[46] Toscana] Toscano 1828, 1829.

[After 50] (With warmth.) 1800, 1828, 1829.

[141] you 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 143] [Confidentially. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[147] your] our 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IV

To these enter BUTLER.

Butler (passionately). General! This is not right!

Wallenstein. What is not right?

Butler. It must needs injure us with all honest men.

Wallenstein. But what?

Butler. It is an open proclamation Of insurrection.

Wallenstein. Well, well—but what is it?

Butler. Count Tertsky's regiments tear the Imperial Eagle 5 From off the banners, and instead of it, Have reared aloft thy arms.

Anspessade (abruptly to the Cuirassiers). Right about! March!

Wallenstein. Cursed be this counsel, and accursed who gave it!

[To the Cuirassiers, who are retiring.

Halt, children, halt! There's some mistake in this; Hark!—I will punish it severely. Stop! 10 They do not hear. (To ILLO.) Go after them, assure them, And bring them back to me, cost what it may.

[ILLO hurries out.

This hurls us headlong. Butler! Butler! You are my evil genius, wherefore must you Announce it in their presence? It was all 15 In a fair way. They were half won, those madmen With their improvident over-readiness— A cruel game is fortune playing with me. The zeal of friends it is that razes me, And not the hate of enemies. 20

SCENE V

To these enter the DUCHESS, who rushes into the Chamber. THEKLA and the COUNTESS follow her.

Duchess. O Albrecht! What hast thou done?

Wallenstein. And now comes this beside.

Countess. Forgive me, brother! It was not in my power. They know all.

Duchess. What hast thou done?

Countess (to Tertsky). Is there no hope? Is all lost utterly? 5

Tertsky. All lost. No hope. Prague in the Emperor's hands, The soldiery have ta'en their oaths anew.

Countess. That lurking hypocrite. Octavio! Count Max is off too?

Tertsky. Where can he be? He's Gone over to the Emperor with his father. 10

[THEKLA rushes out into the arms of her mother, hiding her face in her bosom.

Duchess (enfolding her in her arms). Unhappy child! and more unhappy mother!

Wallenstein (aside to Tertsky). Quick! Let a carriage stand in readiness In the court behind the palace. Scherfenberg Be their attendant; he is faithful to us; To Egra he'll conduct them, and we follow. 15

[To ILLO, who returns.

Thou hast not brought them back?

Illo. Hear'st thou the uproar? The whole corps of the Pappenheimers is Drawn out: the younger Piccolomini, Their colonel, they require; for they affirm, That he is in the palace here, a prisoner; 20 And if thou dost not instantly deliver him, They will find means to free him with the sword.

Tertsky. What shall we make of this?

Wallenstein. Said I not so? O my prophetic heart! he is still here. He has not betrayed me—he could not betray me. 25 I never doubted of it.

Countess. If he be Still here, then all goes well; for I know what

[Embracing THEKLA.

Will keep him here for ever.

Tertsky. It can't be. His father has betrayed us, is gone over To the Emperor—the son could not have ventured 30 To stay behind.

Thekla (her eye fixed on the door). There he is!

LINENOTES:

[9] he 1800.

[After 22] [All stand amazed. 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VI

To these enter MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Max. Yes! here he is! I can endure no longer To creep on tiptoe round this house, and lurk In ambush for a favourable moment. This loitering, this suspense exceeds my powers.

[Advancing to THEKLA.

Turn not thine eyes away. O look upon me! 5 Confess it freely before all. Fear no one, Let who will hear that we both love each other. Wherefore continue to conceal it? Secrecy Is for the happy—misery, hopeless misery, Needeth no veil! Beneath a thousand suns 10 It dares act openly.

[He observes the COUNTESS looking on THEKLA with expressions of triumph.

No, Lady! No! Expect not, hope it not. I am not come To stay: to bid farewell, farewell for ever. For this I come! 'Tis over! I must leave thee! Thekla, I must—must leave thee! Yet thy hatred 15 Let me not take with me. I pray thee, grant me One look of sympathy, only one look. Say that thou dost not hate me. Say it to me, Thekla!

[Grasps her hand.

O God! I cannot leave this spot—I cannot! Cannot let go this hand. O tell me, Thekla! 20 That thou dost suffer with me, art convinced That I cannot act otherwise.

[THEKLA, avoiding his look, points with her hand to her father. MAX turns round to the DUKE, whom he had not till then perceived.

Thou here? It was not thou, whom here I sought. I trusted never more to have beheld thee. My business is with her alone. Here will I 25 Receive a full acquittal from this heart— For any other I am no more concerned.

Wallenstein. Think'st thou, that fool-like, I shall let thee go, And act the mock-magnanimous with thee? Thy father is become a villain to me; 30 I hold thee for his son, and nothing more: Nor to no purpose shalt thou have been given Into my power. Think not, that I will honour That ancient love, which so remorselessly He mangled. They are now past by, those hours 35 Of friendship and forgiveness. Hate and vengeance Succeed—'tis now their turn—I too can throw All feelings of the man aside—can prove Myself as much a monster as thy father!

Max. Thou wilt proceed with me, as thou hast power. 40 Thou know'st, I neither brave nor fear thy rage. What has detained me here, that too thou know'st.

[Taking THEKLA by the hand.

See, Duke! All—all would I have owed to thee, Would have received from thy paternal hand The lot of blessed spirits. This hast thou 45 Laid waste for ever—that concerns not thee. Indifferent thou tramplest in the dust Their happiness, who most are thine. The god Whom thou dost serve, is no benignant deity. Like as the blind irreconcileable 50 Fierce element, incapable of compact, Thy heart's wild impulse only dost thou follow.[753:1]

Wallenstein. Thou art describing thy own father's heart. The adder! O, the charms of hell o'erpowered me. He dwelt within me, to my inmost soul 55 Still to and fro he passed, suspected never! On the wide ocean, in the starry heaven Did mine eyes seek the enemy, whom I In my heart's heart had folded! Had I been To Ferdinand what Octavio was to me, 60 War had I ne'er denounced against him. No, I never could have done it. The Emperor was My austere master only, not my friend. There was already war 'twixt him and me When he delivered the Commander's Staff 65 Into my hands; for there's a natural Unceasing war 'twixt cunning and suspicion; Peace exists only betwixt confidence And faith. Who poisons confidence, he murders The future generations.