Max. I will not 70 Defend my father. Woe is me, I cannot! Hard deeds and luckless have ta'en place, one crime Drags after it the other in close link. But we are innocent: how have we fallen Into this circle of mishap and guilt? 75 To whom have we been faithless? Wherefore must The evil deeds and guilt reciprocal Of our two fathers twine like serpents round us? Why must our fathers' Unconquerable hate rend us asunder, Who love each other?

Wallenstein. Max, remain with me. 80 Go you not from me, Max! Hark! I will tell thee— How when at Prague, our winter quarters, thou Wert brought into my tent a tender boy, Not yet accustomed to the German winters; Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colours; 85 Thou would'st not let them go.— At that time did I take thee in my arms, And with my mantle did I cover thee; I was thy nurse, no woman could have been A kinder to thee; I was not ashamed 90 To do for thee all little offices, However strange to me; I tended thee Till life returned; and when thine eyes first opened, I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have I Altered my feelings towards thee? Many thousands 95 Have I made rich, presented them with lands; Rewarded them with dignities and honours; Thee have I loved: my heart, my self, I gave To thee! They all were aliens: thou wert Our child and inmate.[755:1] Max! Thou canst not leave me; 100 It cannot be; I may not, will not think That Max can leave me.

Max. O my God!

Wallenstein. I have Held and sustained thee from thy tottering childhood. What holy bond is there of natural love? What human tie, that does not knit thee to me? 105 I love thee, Max! What did thy father for thee, Which I too have not done, to the height of duty? Go hence, forsake me, serve thy Emperor; He will reward thee with a pretty chain Of gold; with his ram's fleece will he reward thee; 110 For that the friend, the father of thy youth, For that the holiest feeling of humanity, Was nothing worth to thee.

Max. O God! how can I Do otherwise? Am I not forced to do it? My oath—my duty—honour—

Wallenstein. How? Thy duty? 115 Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max! bethink thee What duties may'st thou have? If I am acting A criminal part toward the Emperor, It is my crime, not thine. Dost thou belong To thine own self? Art thou thine own commander? 120 Stand'st thou, like me, a freeman in the world, That in thy actions thou should'st plead free agency? On me thou'rt planted, I am thy Emperor; To obey me, to belong to me, this is Thy honour, this a law of nature to thee! 125 And if the planet, on the which thou liv'st And hast thy dwelling, from its orbit starts, It is not in thy choice, whether or no Thou'lt follow it. Unfelt it whirls thee onward Together with his ring and all his moons. 130 With little guilt stepp'st thou into this contest, Thee will the world not censure, it will praise thee, For that thou heldst thy friend more worth to thee Than names and influences more removed. For justice is the virtue of the ruler, 135 Affection and fidelity the subject's. Not every one doth it beseem to question The far-off high Arcturus. Most securely Wilt thou pursue the nearest duty—let The pilot fix his eye upon the pole-star. 140

FOOTNOTES:

[753:1] I have here ventured to omit a considerable number of lines. I fear that I should not have done amiss, had I taken this liberty more frequently. It is, however, incumbent on me to give the original with a literal translation.

Weh denen die auf dich vertraun, an Dich Die sichre Htte ihres Glckes lehnen, Gelockt von deiner gastlichen Gestalt. Schnell, unverhofft, bei nchtlich stiller Weile Ghrt's in dem tckschen Feuerschlunde, ladet Sich aus mit tobender Gewalt, und weg Treibt ber alle Pflanzungen der Menschen Der wilde Strom in grausender Zerstrung.

WALLENSTEIN. Du schilderst deines Vaters Herz. Wie Du's Beschreibst, so ist's in seinem Eingeweide, In dieser schwarzen Heuchlersbrust gestaltet. O mich hat Hllenkunst getuscht. Mir sandte Der Abgrund den verstecktesten der Geister, Den Lgekundigsten herauf, und stellt' ihn Als Freund an meine Seite. Wer vermag Der Hlle Macht zu widerstehn! Ich zog Den Basilisken auf an meinem Busen, Mit meinem Herzblut nhrt' ich ihn, er sog Sich schwelgend voll an meiner Liebe Brsten. Ich hatte nimmer Arges gegen ihn, Weit offen Hess ich des Gedankens Thore, Und warf die Schlssel weiser Vorsicht weg, Am Sternenhimmel, &c.

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

Alas! for those who place their confidence on thee, against thee lean the secure hut of their fortune, allured by thy hospitable form. Suddenly, unexpectedly, in a moment still as night, there is a fermentation in the treacherous gulf of fire; it discharges itself with raging force, and away over all the plantations of men drives the wild stream in frightful devastation. WALLENSTEIN. Thou art portraying thy father's heart; as thou describest, even so is it shaped in his entrails, in this black hypocrite's breast. O, the art of hell has deceived me! The Abyss sent up to me the most spotted of the spirits, the most skilful in lies, and placed him as a friend by my side. Who may withstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to my bosom, with my heart's blood I nourished him; he sucked himself glutfull at the breasts of my love. I never harboured evil towards him; wide open did I leave the door of my thoughts; I threw away the key of wise foresight. In the starry heaven, &c.—We find a difficulty in believing this to have been written by Schiller. 1800, 1828, 1829. I have here ventured to omit a considerable number of lines, which it is difficult to believe that Schiller could have written. 1834.

[755:1] This is a poor and inadequate translation of the affectionate simplicity of the original—

Sie alle waren Fremdlinge, Du warst Das Kind des Hauses.

Indeed the whole speech is in the best style of Massinger. O si sic omnia!

LINENOTES:

[After 4] [Advancing to THEKLA, who has thrown herself into her mother's arms. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[14] must leave 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 40] Max (calmly). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[60] Ferdinand . . . me 1800, 1828, 1829.

[98] lov'd 1800, 1828, 1829.

[117] thou 1800, 1828, 1829.

[124] me . . . belong 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VII

To these enter NEUMANN.

Wallenstein. What now?

Neumann. The Pappenheimers are dismounted, And are advancing now on foot, determined With sword in hand to storm the house, and free The Count, their colonel.

Wallenstein (to Tertsky). Have the cannon planted. I will receive them with chain-shot. [Exit TERTSKY. 5 Prescribe to me with sword in hand! Go, Neumann! 'Tis my command that they retreat this moment, And in their ranks in silence wait my pleasure.

[NEUMANN exit. ILLO steps to the window.

Countess. Let him go, I entreat thee, let him go.

Illo (at the window). Hell and perdition!

Wallenstein. What is it? 10

Illo. They scale the council-house, the roof's uncovered. They level at this house the cannon——

Max. Madmen!

Illo. They are making preparations now to fire on us.

Duchess and Countess. Merciful Heaven!

Max (to Wallenstein). Let me go to them!

Wallenstein. Not a step!

Max (pointing to Thekla and the Duchess). But their life! Thine! 15

Wallenstein. What tidings bring'st thou, Tertsky?

SCENE VIII

To these TERTSKY (returning).

Tertsky. Message and greeting from our faithful regiments. Their ardour may no longer be curbed in. They intreat permission to commence the attack, And if thou would'st but give the word of onset, They could now charge the enemy in rear, 5 Into the city wedge them, and with ease O'erpower them in the narrow streets.

Illo. O come! Let not their ardour cool. The soldiery Of Butler's corps stand by us faithfully; We are the greater number. Let us charge them, 10 And finish here in Pilsen the revolt.

Wallenstein. What? shall this town become a field of slaughter, And brother-killing Discord, fire-eyed, Be let loose through its streets to roam and rage? Shall the decision be delivered over 15 To deaf remorseless Rage, that hears no leader? Here is not room for battle, only for butchery. Well, let it be! I have long thought of it, So let it burst then! [Turns to MAX. Well, how is it with thee? Wilt thou attempt a heat with me. Away! 20 Thou art free to go. Oppose thyself to me, Front against front, and lead them to the battle; Thou'rt skilled in war, thou hast learned somewhat under me, I need not be ashamed of my opponent, And never had'st thou fairer opportunity 25 To pay me for thy schooling.

Countess. Is it then, Can it have come to this?—What! Cousin, Cousin! Have you the heart?

Max. The regiments that are trusted to my care I have pledged my troth to bring away from Pilsen 30 True to the Emperor, and this promise will I Make good, or perish. More than this no duty Requires of me. I will not fight against thee, Unless compelled; for though an enemy, Thy head is holy to me still. 35

[Two reports of cannon. ILLO and TERTSKY hurry to the window.

Wallenstein. What's that?

Tertsky. He falls.

Wallenstein. Falls! Who?

Illo. Tiefenbach's corps Discharged the ordnance.

Wallenstein. Upon whom?

Illo. On Neumann, Your messenger.

Wallenstein (starting up). Ha! Death and hell! I will—

Tertsky. Expose thyself to their blind frenzy?

Duchess and Countess. No! For God's sake, no!

Illo. Not yet, my General! 40

Countess. O, hold him! hold him!

Wallenstein. Leave me——

Max. Do it not Not yet! This rash and bloody deed has thrown them Into a frenzy-fit—allow them time——

Wallenstein. Away! too long already have I loitered. They are emboldened to these outrages, 45 Beholding not my face. They shall behold My countenance, shall hear my voice—— Are they not my troops? Am I not their General, And their long-feared commander? Let me see, Whether indeed they do no longer know 50 That countenance, which was their sun in battle! From the balcony (mark!) I shew myself To these rebellious forces, and at once Revolt is mounded, and the high-swoln current Shrinks back into the old bed of obedience. 55

[Exit WALLENSTEIN; ILLO, TERTSKY, and BUTLER follow.

LINENOTES:

[48] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IX

COUNTESS, DUCHESS, MAX, and THEKLA.

Countess (to the Duchess). Let them but see him—there is hope still, sister.

Duchess. Hope! I have none!

Max (who during the last scene has been standing at a distance, advances). This can I not endure. With most determined soul did I come hither, My purposed action seemed unblameable To my own conscience—and I must stand here 5 Like one abhorred, a hard inhuman being; Yea, loaded with the curse of all I love! Must see all whom I love in this sore anguish, Whom I with one word can make happy—O! My heart revolts within me, and two voices 10 Make themselves audible within my bosom. My soul's benighted; I no longer can Distinguish the right track. O, well and truly Didst thou say, father, I relied too much On my own heart. My mind moves to and fro— 15 I know not what to do.

Countess. What! you know not? Does not your own heart tell you? O! then I Will tell it you. Your father is a traitor, A frightful traitor to us—he has plotted Against our General's life, has plunged us all 20 In misery—and you're his son! 'Tis yours To make the amends—Make you the son's fidelity Outweigh the father's treason, that the name Of Piccolomini be not a proverb Of infamy, a common form of cursing 25 To the posterity of Wallenstein.

Max. Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow? It speaks no longer in my heart. We all But utter what our passionate wishes dictate: O that an angel would descend from Heaven, 30 And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted, With a pure hand from the pure Fount of Light.

[His eyes glance on THEKLA.

What other angel seek I? To this heart, To this unerring heart, will I submit it, Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless 35 The happy man alone, averted ever From the disquieted and guilty—canst thou Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst, And I am the Duke's——

Countess. Think, niece——

Max. Think nothing, Thekla! Speak what thou feelest.

Countess. Think upon your father. 40

Max. I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. Thee, the beloved and the unerring god Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake? Not whether diadem of royalty Be to be won or not—that might'st thou think on. 45 Thy friend, and his soul's quiet, are at stake; The fortune of a thousand gallant men, Who will all follow me; shall I forswear My oath and duty to the Emperor? Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp 50 The parricidal ball? For when the ball Has left its cannon, and is on its flight, It is no longer a dead instrument! It lives, a spirit passes into it, The avenging furies seize possession of it, 55 And with sure malice guide it the worst way.

Thekla. O! Max——

Max. Nay, not precipitately either, Thekla. I understand thee. To thy noble heart The hardest duty might appear the highest. The human, not the great part, would I act. 60 Ev'n from my childhood to this present hour, Think what the Duke has done for me, how loved me, And think too, how my father has repaid him. O likewise the free lovely impulses Of hospitality, the pious friend's 65 Faithful attachment, these too are a holy Religion to the heart; and heavily The shudderings of nature do avenge Themselves on the barbarian that insults them. Lay all upon the balance, all—then speak, 70 And let thy heart decide it.

Thekla. O, thy own Hath long ago decided. Follow thou Thy heart's first feeling——

Countess. Oh! ill-fated woman!

Thekla. Is it possible, that that can be the right, The which thy tender heart did not at first 75 Detect and seize with instant impulse? Go, Fulfil thy duty! I should ever love thee. Whate'er thou had'st chosen, thou would'st still have acted Nobly and worthy of thee—but repentance Shall ne'er disturb thy soul's fair peace.

Max. Then I 80 Must leave thee, must part from thee!

Thekla. Being faithful To thine own self, thou art faithful too to me: If our fates part, our hearts remain united. A bloody hatred will divide for ever The houses Piccolomini and Friedland; 85 But we belong not to our houses—Go! Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause From our unholy and unblessed one! The curse of heaven lies upon our head: 'Tis dedicate to ruin. Even me 90 My father's guilt drags with it to perdition. Mourn not for me: My destiny will quickly be decided.

[MAX clasps her in his arms. There is heard from behind the Scene a loud, wild, long continued cry, 'Vivat Ferdinandus,' accompanied by warlike instruments.

LINENOTES:

[Before 3] Max (who . . . distance in a visible struggle of feelings, advances). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[22] amends 1800, 1828, 1829.

[23] Outweigh 1800, 1828, 1829.

[28] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

[37] can'st 1800, 1828, 1829.

[40] feelest 1800, 1828, 1829.

[45] think 1800, 1828, 1829.

[46] his 1800.]

[57] Max (interrupting her). Nay, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 92] [MAX . . . in extreme emotion. There is . . . instruments. MAX and THEKLA remain without motion in each other's embraces. 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE X

To these enter TERTSKY.

Countess (meeting him). What meant that cry? What was it?

Tertsky. All is lost!

Countess. What! they regarded not his countenance?

Tertsky. 'Twas all in vain.

Duchess. They shouted Vivat!

Tertsky. To the Emperor.

Countess. The traitors!

Tertsky. Nay! he was not once permitted Even to address them. Soon as he began, 5 With deafening noise of warlike instruments They drowned his words. But here he comes.

SCENE XI

To these enter WALLENSTEIN, accompanied by ILLO and BUTLER.

Wallenstein (as he enters). Tertsky!

Tertsky. My General?

Wallenstein. Let our regiments hold themselves In readiness to march; for we shall leave Pilsen ere evening. [Exit TERTSKY. Butler!

Butler. Yes, my General.

Wallenstein. The Governor at Egra is your friend 5 And countryman. Write to him instantly By a Post Courier. He must be advised, That we are with him early on the morrow. You follow us yourself, your regiment with you.

Butler. It shall be done, my General!

Wallenstein (steps between Max and Thekla). Part!

Max. O God! 10

[Cuirassiers enter with drawn swords, and assemble in the back-ground. At the same time there are heard from below some spirited passages out of the Pappenheim March, which seem to address MAX.

Wallenstein (to the Cuirassiers). Here he is, he is at liberty: I keep him No longer.

[He turns away, and stands so that MAX cannot pass by him nor approach the PRINCESS.

Max. Thou know'st that I have not yet learnt to live Without thee! I go forth into a desert, Leaving my all behind me. O do not turn 15 Thine eyes away from me! O once more shew me Thy ever dear and honoured countenance.

[MAX attempts to take his hand, but is repelled; he turns to the COUNTESS.

Is there no eye that has a look of pity for me?

[The COUNTESS turns away from him; he turns to the DUCHESS.

My mother!

Duchess. Go where duty calls you. Haply The time may come, when you may prove to us 20 A true friend, a good angel at the throne Of the Emperor.

Max. You give me hope; you would not Suffer me wholly to despair. No! No! Mine is a certain misery—Thanks to heaven That offers me a means of ending it. 25

[The military music begins again. The stage fills more and more with armed men. MAX sees BUTLER, and addresses him.

And you here, Colonel Butler—and will you Not follow me? Well, then! remain more faithful To your new lord, than you have proved yourself To the Emperor. Come, Butler! promise me, Give me your hand upon it, that you'll be 30 The guardian of his life, its shield, its watchman. He is attainted, and his princely head Fair booty for each slave that trades in murder. Now he doth need the faithful eye of friendship, And those whom here I see—

[Casting suspicious looks on ILLO and BUTLER.

Illo. Go—seek for traitors 35 In Galas', in your father's quarters. Here Is only one. Away! away! and free us From his detested sight! Away!

[MAX attempts once more to approach THEKLA. WALLENSTEIN prevents him. MAX stands irresolute, and in apparent anguish. In the mean time the stage fills more and more; and the horns sound from below louder and louder, and each time after a shorter interval.

Max. Blow, blow! O were it but the Swedish Trumpets, And all the naked swords, which I see here, 40 Were plunged into my breast! What purpose you? You come to tear me from this place! Beware, Ye drive me not in desperation.—Do it not! Ye may repent it!

[The stage is entirely filled with armed men.

Yet more! weight upon weight to drag me down! 45 Think what ye're doing. It is not well done To choose a man despairing for your leader; You tear me from my happiness. Well, then, I dedicate your souls to vengeance. Mark! For your own ruin you have chosen me: 50 Who goes with me, must be prepared to perish.

[He turns to the background, there ensues a sudden and violent movement among the Cuirassiers; they surround him, and carry him off in wild tumult. WALLENSTEIN remains immovable. THEKLA sinks into her mother's arms. The curtain falls. The music becomes loud and overpowering, and passes into a complete war-march—the orchestra joins it—and continues during the interval between the second and third Act.

LINENOTES:

[10] Wallenstein (steps between Max and Thekla, who have remained during this time in each others arms). 1800, 1828, 1829.



ACT III

SCENE I

The Burgomaster's House at Egra.

BUTLER.

Butler. Here then he is, by his destiny conducted. Here, Friedland! and no farther! From Bohemia Thy meteor rose, traversed the sky awhile, And here upon the borders of Bohemia Must sink. Thou hast forsworn the ancient colours, 5 Blind man! yet trustest to thy ancient fortunes. Profaner of the altar and the hearth, Against thy Emperor and fellow-citizens Thou mean'st to wage the war. Friedland, beware— The evil spirit of revenge impels thee— 10 Beware thou, that revenge destroy thee not!

LINENOTES:

[Before 1] Butler (just arrived). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

BUTLER and GORDON.

Gordon. Is it you? How my heart sinks! The Duke a fugitive traitor! His princely head attainted! O my God!

Butler. You have received the letter which I sent you By a post-courier?

Gordon. Yes! and in obedience to it 5 Opened the strong hold to him without scruple. For an imperial letter orders me To follow your commands implicitly. But yet forgive me; when even now I saw The Duke himself, my scruples recommenced. 10 For truly, not like an attainted man, Into this town did Friedland make his entrance; His wonted majesty beamed from his brow, And calm, as in the days when all was right, Did he receive from me the accounts of office; 15 'Tis said, that fallen pride learns condescension: But sparing and with dignity the Duke Weighed every syllable of approbation, As masters praise a servant who has done His duty, and no more.

Butler. 'Tis all precisely 20 As I related in my letter. Friedland Has sold the army to the enemy, And pledged himself to give up Prague and Egra. On this report the regiments all forsook him, The five excepted that belong to Tertsky, 25 And which have followed him, as thou hast seen. The sentence of attainder is passed on him, And every loyal subject is required To give him in to justice, dead or living.

Gordon. A traitor to the Emperor—Such a noble! 30 Of such high talents! What is human greatness! I often said, this can't end happily. His might, his greatness, and this obscure power Are but a covered pit-fall. The human being May not be trusted to self-government. 35 The clear and written law, the deep trod foot-marks Of ancient custom, are all necessary To keep him in the road of faith and duty. The authority entrusted to this man Was unexampled and unnatural 40 It placed him on a level with his Emperor, Till the proud soul unlearned submission. Wo is me; I mourn for him! for where he fell, I deem Might none stand firm. Alas! dear General, We in our lucky mediocrity 45 Have ne'er experienced, cannot calculate, What dangerous wishes such a height may breed In the heart of such a man.

Butler. Spare your laments Till he need sympathy; for at this present He is still mighty, and still formidable. 50 The Swedes advance to Egra by forced marches, And quickly will the junction be accomplished. This must not be! The Duke must never leave This strong hold on free footing; for I have Pledged life and honour here to hold him prisoner, 55 And your assistance 'tis on which I calculate.

Gordon. O that I had not lived to see this day! From his hand I received this dignity, He did himself entrust this strong hold to me, Which I am now required to make his dungeon. 60 We subalterns have no will of our own: The free, the mighty man alone may listen To the fair impulse of his human nature. Ah! we are but the poor tools of the law, Obedience the sole virtue we dare aim at! 65

Butler. Nay, let it not afflict you, that your power Is circumscribed. Much liberty, much error! The narrow path of duty is securest.

Gordon. And all then have deserted him, you say? He has built up the luck of many thousands; 70 For kingly was his spirit: his full hand Was ever open! Many a one from dust Hath he selected, from the very dust Hath raised him into dignity and honour. And yet no friend, not one friend hath he purchased, 75 Whose heart beats true to him in the evil hour.

Butler. Here's one, I see.

Gordon. I have enjoyed from him No grace or favour. I could almost doubt, If ever in his greatness he once thought on An old friend of his youth. For still my office 80 Kept me at distance from him; and when first He to this citadel appointed me, He was sincere and serious in his duty. I do not then abuse his confidence, If I preserve my fealty in that 85 Which to my fealty was first delivered.

Butler. Say, then, will you fulfil the attainder on him?

Gordon. If it be so—if all be as you say— If he've betrayed the Emperor, his master, Have sold the troops, have purposed to deliver 90 The strong holds of the country to the enemy— Yea, truly!—-there is no redemption for him! Yet it is hard, that me the lot should destine To be the instrument of his perdition; For we were pages at the court of Bergau 95 At the same period; but I was the senior.

Butler. I have heard so——

Gordon. 'Tis full thirty years since then. A youth who scarce had seen his twentieth year Was Wallenstein, when he and I were friends: Yet even then he had a daring soul: 100 His frame of mind was serious and severe Beyond his years: his dreams were of great objects. He walked amidst us of a silent spirit, Communing with himself: yet I have known him Transported on a sudden into utterance 105 Of strange conceptions; kindling into splendour His soul revealed itself, and he spake so That we looked round perplexed upon each other, Not knowing whether it were craziness, Or whether it were a god that spoke in him. 110

Butler. But was it where he fell two story high From a window-ledge, on which he had fallen asleep; And rose up free from injury? From this day (It is reported) he betrayed clear marks Of a distempered fancy.

Gordon. He became 115 Doubtless more self-enwrapt and melancholy; He made himself a Catholic. Marvellously His marvellous preservation had transformed him. Thenceforth he held himself for an exempted And privileged being, and, as if he were 120 Incapable of dizziness or fall, He ran along the unsteady rope of life. But now our destinies drove us asunder: He paced with rapid step the way of greatness, Was Count, and Prince, Duke-regent, and Dictator. 125 And now is all, all this too little for him; He stretches forth his hands for a king's crown, And plunges in unfathomable ruin.

Butler. No more, he comes.

LINENOTES:

[After 72] [With a sly glance on BUTLER. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 88] Gordon (pauses reflecting—then as in deep dejection). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE III

To these enter WALLENSTEIN, in conversation with the Burgomaster of Egra.

Wallenstein. You were at one time a free town. I see, Ye bear the half eagle in your city arms. Why the half eagle only?

Burgomaster. We were free, But for these last two hundred years has Egra Remained in pledge to the Bohemian crown, 5 Therefore we bear the half eagle, the other half Being cancelled till the empire ransom us, If ever that should be.

Wallenstein. Ye merit freedom. Only be firm and dauntless. Lend your ears To no designing whispering court-minions. 10 What may your imposts be?

Burgomaster. So heavy that We totter under them. The garrison Lives at our costs.

Wallenstein. I will relieve you. Tell me, There are some Protestants among you still?

[The Burgomaster hesitates.

Yes, yes; I know it. Many lie concealed 15 Within these walls—Confess now—you yourself— Be not alarmed. I hate the Jesuits. Could my will have determined it, they had Been long ago expelled the empire. Trust me— Mass-book or Bible—'tis all one to me. 20 Of that the world has had sufficient proof. I built a church for the reformed in Glogan At my own instance. Hark'e, Burgomaster! What is your name?

Burgomaster. Pachhlbel, may it please you.

Wallenstein. Hark'e!—— 25 But let it go no further, what I now Disclose to you in confidence.

[Laying his hand on the Burgomaster's shoulder.

The times Draw near to their fulfilment, Burgomaster! The high will fall, the low will be exalted. Hark'e! But keep it to yourself! The end 30 Approaches of the Spanish double monarchy— A new arrangement is at hand. You saw The three moons that appeared at once in the Heaven.

Burgomaster. With wonder and affright!

Wallenstein. Whereof did two Strangely transform themselves to bloody daggers. 35 And only one, the middle moon, remained Steady and clear.

Burgomaster. We applied it to the Turks.

Wallenstein. The Turks! That all?—I tell you, that two empires Will set in blood, in the East and in the West, And Luth'ranism alone remain. [Observing GORDON and BUTLER. I'faith, 40 'Twas a smart cannonading that we heard This evening, as we journeyed hitherward; 'Twas on our left hand. Did you hear it here?

Gordon. Distinctly. The wind brought it from the South.

Butler. It seemed to come from Weiden or from Neustadt. 45

Wallenstein. Tis likely. That's the route the Swedes are taking. How strong is the garrison?

Gordon. Not quite two hundred Competent men, the rest are invalids.

Wallenstein. Good! And how many in the vale of Jochim?

Gordon. Two hundred arquebussiers have I sent thither 50 To fortify the posts against the Swedes.

Wallenstein. Good! I commend your foresight. At the works too You have done somewhat?

Gordon. Two additional batteries I caused to be run up. They were needless. The Rhinegrave presses hard upon us, General! 55

Wallenstein. You have been watchful in your Emperor's service. I am content with you, Lieutenant-Colonel. [To BUTLER. Release the outposts in the vale of Jochim With all the stations in the enemy's route. [To GORDON. Governor, in your faithful hands I leave 60 My wife, my daughter, and my sister. I Shall make no stay here, and wait but the arrival Of letters, to take leave of you, together With all the regiments.

LINENOTES:

[2] half 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 16] [Fixes his eye on him. The Burgomaster alarmed. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[27]

Disclose to you in confidence. [Laying . . . shoulder with a certain solemnity.

1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IV

To these enter COUNT TERTSKY.

Tertsky. Joy, General; joy! I bring you welcome tidings.

Wallenstein. And what may they be?

Tertsky. There has been an engagement At Neustadt; the Swedes gained the victory.

Wallenstein. From whence did you receive the intelligence?

Tertsky. A countryman from Tirschenseil conveyed it. 5 Soon after sunrise did the fight begin! A troop of the Imperialists from Fachau Had forced their way into the Swedish camp; The cannonade continued full two hours; There were left dead upon the field a thousand 10 Imperialists, together with their Colonel; Further than this he did not know.

Wallenstein. How came Imperial troops at Neustadt? Altringer, But yesterday, stood sixty miles from there. Count Galas' force collects at Frauenberg, 15 And have not the full complement. Is it possible, That Suys perchance had ventured so far onward? It cannot be.

Tertsky. We shall soon know the whole, For here comes Illo, full of haste, and joyous.

SCENE V

To these enter ILLO.

Illo (to Wallenstein). A courier, Duke! he wishes to speak with thee.

Tertsky. Does he bring confirmation of the victory?

Wallenstein. What does he bring? Whence comes he?

Illo. From the Rhinegrave. And what he brings I can announce to you Beforehand. Seven leagues distant are the Swedes; 5 At Neustadt did Max Piccolomini Throw himself on them with the cavalry; A murderous fight took place! o'erpower'd by numbers The Pappenheimers all, with Max their leader, Were left dead on the field. 10

Wallenstein (after a pause). Where is the messenger? Conduct me to him.

[WALLENSTEIN is going, when LADY NEUBRUNN rushes into the room. Some servants follow her and run across the stage.

Neubrunn. Help! Help!

Illo and Tertsky (at the same time). What now?

Neubrunn. The Princess!

Wallenstein and Tertsky. Does she know it?

Neubrunn. She is dying!

[Hurries off the stage, when WALLENSTEIN and TERTSKY follow her.

LINENOTES:

[Before 2] Tertsky (eagerly). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 3] Wallenstein (at the same time). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 9] [WALLENSTEIN shudders and turns pale. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 11] Wallenstein (after a pause, in a low voice). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[13] Neubrunn (at the same time with them). She is dying! 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VI

BUTLER and GORDON.

Gordon. What's this?

Butler. She has lost the man she lov'd— Young Piccolomini, who fell in the battle.

Gordon. Unfortunate Lady!

Butler. You have heard what Illo Reporteth, that the Swedes are conquerors, And marching hitherward.

Gordon. Too well I heard it. 5

Butler. They are twelve regiments strong, and there are five Close by us to protect the Duke. We have Only my single regiment; and the garrison Is not two hundred strong.

Gordon. 'Tis even so.

Butler. It is not possible with such small force 10 To hold in custody a man like him.

Gordon. I grant it.

Butler. Soon the numbers would disarm us. And liberate him.

Gordon. It were to be feared.

Butler (after a pause). Know, I am warranty for the event; With my head have I pledged myself for his, 15 Must make my word good, cost it what it will, And if alive we cannot hold him prisoner, Why—death makes all things certain!

Gordon. Butler! What? Do I understand you? Gracious God! You could—

Butler. He must not live.

Gordon. And you can do the deed! 20

Butler. Either you or I. This morning was his last.

Gordon. You would assassinate him.

Butler. 'Tis my purpose.

Gordon. Who leans with his whole confidence upon you!

Butler. Such is his evil destiny!

Gordon. Your General! The sacred person of your General! 25

Butler. My General he has been.

Gordon. That 'tis only A 'has been' washes out no villainy. And without judgment passed?

Butler. The execution Is here instead of judgment.

Gordon. This were murder, Not justice. The most guilty should be heard. 30

Butler. His guilt is clear, the Emperor has passed judgment, And we but execute his will.

Gordon. We should not Hurry to realize a bloody sentence. A word may be recalled, a life can never be.

Butler. Dispatch in service pleases sovereigns. 35

Gordon. No honest man's ambitious to press forward To the hangman's service.

Butler. And no brave man loses His colour at a daring enterprize.

Gordon. A brave man hazards life, but not his conscience.

Butler. What then? Shall he go forth anew to kindle 40 The unextinguishable flame of war?

Gordon. Seize him, and hold him prisoner—do not kill him.

Butler. Had not the Emperor's army been defeated, I might have done so.—But 'tis now past by.

Gordon. O, wherefore opened I the strong hold to him! 45

Butler. His destiny and not the place destroys him.

Gordon. Upon these ramparts, as beseemed a soldier, I had fallen, defending the Emperor's citadel!

Butler. Yes! and a thousand gallant men have perished.

Gordon. Doing their duty—that adorns the man! 50 But murder's a black deed, and nature curses it.

Butler (brings out a paper). Here is the manifesto which commands us To gain possession of his person. See— It is addressed to you as well as me. Are you content to take the consequences, 55 If through our fault he escape to the enemy?

Gordon. I?—Gracious God!

Butler. Take it on yourself. Let come of it what may, on you I lay it.

Gordon. O God in heaven!

Butler. Can you advise aught else Wherewith to execute the Emperor's purpose? 60 Say if you can. For I desire his fall, Not his destruction.

Gordon. Merciful heaven! what must be I see as clear as you. Yet still the heart Within my bosom beats with other feelings!

Butler. Mine is of harder stuff! Necessity 65 In her rough school hath steeled me. And this Illo And Tertsky likewise, they must not survive him.

Gordon. I feel no pang for these. Their own bad hearts Impelled them, not the influence of the stars. 'Twas they who strewed the seeds of evil passions 70 In his calm breast, and with officious villainy Watered and nursed the pois'nous plants. May they Receive their earnests to the uttermost mite!

Butler. And their death shall precede his! We meant to have taken them alive this evening 75 Amid the merry-making of a feast, And kept them prisoners in the citadels. But this makes shorter work. I go this instant To give the necessary orders.

LINENOTES:

[19] You 1800, 1828, 1829.

[20] you 1800, 1828, 1829.

[26] has been 1800, 1828, 1829.

[58] Come of it what it may, on you I lay it. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[77] kept] keep 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VII

To these enter ILLO and TERTSKY.

Tertsky. Our luck is on the turn. To-morrow come The Swedes—twelve thousand gallant warriors, Illo! Then straightways for Vienna. Cheerily, friend! What! meet such news with such a moody face?

Illo. It lies with us at present to prescribe 5 Laws, and take vengeance on those worthless traitors, Those skulking cowards that deserted us; One has already done his bitter penance The Piccolomini, be his the fate Of all who wish us evil! This flies sure 10 To the old man's heart; he has his whole life long Fretted and toiled to raise his ancient house From a Count's title to the name of Prince; And now must seek a grave for his only son.

Butler. 'Twas pity though! A youth of such heroic 15 And gentle temperament! The Duke himself, 'Twas easily seen, how near it went to his heart.

Illo. Hark'e, old friend! That is the very point That never pleased me in our General— He ever gave the preference to the Italians. 20 Yea, at this very moment, by my soul! He'd gladly see us all dead ten times over, Could he thereby recall his friend to life.

Tertsky. Hush, hush! Let the dead rest! This evening's business Is, who can fairly drink the other down— 25 Your regiment, Illo! gives the entertainment. Come! we will keep a merry carnival— The night for once be day, and mid full glasses Will we expect the Swedish Avantgarde.

Illo. Yes, let us be of good cheer for to-day, 30 For there's hot work before us, friends! This sword Shall have no rest, till it be bathed to the hilt In Austrian blood.

Gordon. Shame, shame! what talk is this, My Lord Field Marshal? Wherefore foam you so Against your Emperor?

Butler. Hope not too much 35 From this first victory. Bethink you, sirs! How rapidly the wheel of Fortune turns; The Emperor still is formidably strong.

Illo. The Emperor has soldiers, no commander, For this King Ferdinand of Hungary 40 Is but a tyro. Galas? He's no luck, And was of old the ruiner of armies. And then this viper, this Octavio, Is excellent at stabbing in the back, But ne'er meets Friedland in the open field. 45

Tertsky. Trust me, my friends, it cannot but succeed; Fortune, we know, can ne'er forsake the Duke! And only under Wallenstein can Austria Be conqueror.

Illo. The Duke will soon assemble A mighty army, all come crowding, streaming 50 To banners dedicate by destiny To fame and prosperous fortune. I behold Old times come back again, he will become Once more the mighty Lord which he has been. How will the fools, who've now deserted him, 55 Look then? I can't but laugh to think of them, For lands will he present to all his friends, And like a King and Emperor reward True services; but we've the nearest claims. [To GORDON. You will not be forgotten, Governor! 60 He'll take you from this nest and bid you shine In higher station: your fidelity Well merits it.

Gordon. I am content already, And wish to climb no higher; where great height is The fall must needs be great. 'Great height, great depth.' 65

Illo. Here you have no more business for to-morrow; The Swedes will take possession of the citadel. Come, Tertsky, it is supper-time. What think you? Say, shall we have the State illuminated In honour of the Swede? And who refuses 70 To do it is a Spaniard and a traitor.

Tertsky. Nay! Nay! not that, it will not please the Duke—

Illo. What! we are masters here; no soul shall dare Avow himself imperial where we've rule. Gordon! Good night, and for the last time, take 75 A fair leave of the place. Send out patroles To make secure, the watch-word may be altered At the stroke of ten; deliver in the keys To the Duke himself, and then you're quit for ever Your wardship of the gates, for on to-morrow 80 The Swedes will take possession of the citadel.

Tertsky (as he is going, to Butler). You come though to the castle.

Butler. At the right time. [Exeunt TERTSKY and ILLO.

LINENOTES:

[50] come] comes 1800, 1828, 1829.

[74] Avow himself imperial where we've the rule. 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VIII

GORDON and BUTLER.

Gordon (looking after them). Unhappy men! How free from all foreboding! They rush into the outspread net of murder, In the blind drunkenness of victory; I have no pity for their fate. This Illo, This overflowing and fool-hardy villain 5 That would fain bathe himself in his Emperor's blood.

Butler. Do as he ordered you. Send round patroles. Take measures for the citadel's security; When they are within I close the castle gate That nothing may transpire.

Gordon. Oh! haste not so! 10 Nay, stop; first tell me——

Butler. You have heard already, To-morrow to the Swedes belongs. This night Alone is ours. They make good expedition. But we will make still greater. Fare you well.

Gordon. Ah! your looks tell me nothing good. Nay, Butler, 15 I pray you, promise me!

Butler. The sun has set; A fateful evening doth descend upon us, And brings on their long night! Their evil stars Deliver them unarmed into our hands. And from their drunken dream of golden fortunes 20 The dagger at their heart shall rouse them. Well, The Duke was ever a great calculator; His fellow-men were figures on his chess-board, To move and station, as his game required. Other men's honour, dignity, good name, 25 Did he shift like pawns, and made no conscience of it: Still calculating, calculating still; And yet at last his calculation proves Erroneous; the whole game is lost; and lo! His own life will be found among the forfeits. 30

Gordon. O think not of his errors now; remember His greatness, his munificence, think on all The lovely features of his character, On all the noble exploits of his life, And let them, like an angel's arm, unseen 35 Arrest the lifted sword.

Butler. It is too late. I suffer not myself to feel compassion, Dark thoughts and bloody are my duty now:

[Grasping GORDON'S hand.

Gordon! 'Tis not my hatred (I pretend not To love the Duke, and have no cause to love him) 40 Yet 'tis not now my hatred that impels me To be his murderer. 'Tis his evil fate. Hostile concurrences of many events Control and subjugate me to the office. In vain the human being meditates 45 Free action. He is but the wire-worked[777:1] puppet Of the blind power, which out of his own choice Creates for him a dread necessity. What too would it avail him, if there were A something pleading for him in my heart— 50 Still I must kill him.

Gordon. If your heart speak to you, Follow its impulse. 'Tis the voice of God. Think you your fortunes will grow prosperous Bedewed with blood—his blood? Believe it not!

Butler. You know not. Ask not! Wherefore should it happen, 55 That the Swedes gained the victory, and hasten With such forced marches hitherward? Fain would I Have given him to the Emperor's mercy.—Gordon! I do not wish his blood—But I must ransom The honour of my word—it lies in pledge— 60 And he must die, or——

[Passionately grasping GORDON'S hand.

Listen then, and know! I am dishonoured if the Duke escape us.

Gordon. O! to save such a man——

Butler. What!

Gordon. It is worth A sacrifice.—Come, friend! Be noble-minded! Our own heart, and not other men's opinions, 65 Forms our true honour.

Butler. He is a great Lord, This Duke—and I am but of mean importance. This is what you would say? Wherein concerns it The world at large, you mean to hint to me, Whether the man of low extraction keeps 70 Or blemishes his honour— So that the man of princely rank be saved. We all do stamp our value on ourselves. The price we challenge for ourselves is given us. There does not live on earth the man so stationed, 75 That I despise myself compared with him. Man is made great or little by his own will; Because I am true to mine, therefore he dies.

Gordon. I am endeavouring to move a rock. Thou hadst a mother, yet no human feelings. 80 I cannot hinder you, but may some God Rescue him from you! [Exit GORDON.

FOOTNOTES:

[777:1] We doubt the propriety of putting so blasphemous a sentiment in the mouth of any character.—T[RANSLATOR]. 1800, 1828, 1829.

LINENOTES:

[10] Gordon (with earnest anxiety). Oh! &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[38] duty 1800, 1828, 1829.

[62] dishonour'd 1800, 1828, 1829.

[66] Butler (with a cold and haughty air). He is, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IX

Butler (alone). I treasured my good name all my life long; The Duke has cheated me of life's best jewel, So that I blush before this poor weak Gordon! He prizes above all his fealty; His conscious soul accuses him of nothing; 5 In opposition to his own soft heart He subjugates himself to an iron duty. Me in a weaker moment passion warped; I stand beside him, and must feel myself The worst man of the two. What though the world 10 Is ignorant of my purposed treason, yet One man does know it, and can prove it too— High-minded Piccolomini! There lives the man who can dishonour me! This ignominy blood alone can cleanse! 15 Duke Friedland, thou or I—Into my own hands Fortune delivers me—The dearest thing a man has is himself.

(The curtain drops.)

LINENOTES:

[12] One 1800, 1828, 1829.



ACT IV

SCENE I

SCENE—BUTLER'S Chamber.

BUTLER, and MAJOR GERALDIN.

Butler. Find me twelve strong dragoons, arm them with pikes, For there must be no firing—— Conceal them somewhere near the banquet-room, And soon as the dessert is served up, rush all in And cry—Who is loyal to the Emperor? 5 I will overturn the table—while you attack Illo and Tertsky, and dispatch them both. The castle-palace is well barred and guarded, That no intelligence of this proceeding May make its way to the Duke.—Go instantly; 10 Have you yet sent for Captain Devereux And the Macdonald?——

Geraldin. They'll be here anon.

[Exit GERALDIN.

Butler. Here's no room for delay. The citizens Declare for him, a dizzy drunken spirit Possesses the whole town. They see in the Duke 15 A Prince of peace, a founder of new ages And golden times. Arms too have been given out By the town-council, and a hundred citizens Have volunteered themselves to stand on guard. Dispatch then be the word. For enemies 20 Threaten us from without and from within.

SCENE II

BUTLER, CAPTAIN DEVEREUX, and MACDONALD.

Macdonald. Here we are, General.

Devereux. What's to be the watchword?

Butler. Long live the Emperor!

Both (recoiling). How?

Butler. Live the House of Austria!

Devereux. Have we not sworn fidelity to Friedland?

Macdonald. Have we not marched to this place to protect him?

Butler. Protect a traitor, and his country's enemy! 5

Devereux. Why, yes! in his name you administered Our oath.

Macdonald. And followed him yourself to Egra.

Butler. I did it the more surely to destroy him.

Devereux. So then!

Macdonald. An altered case!

Butler (to Devereux). Thou wretched man! So easily leav'st thou thy oath and colours? 10

Devereux. The devil!—I but followed your example, If you could prove a villain, why not we?

Macdonald. We've nought to do with thinking—that's your business. You are our General, and give out the orders; We follow you, though the track lead to hell. 15

Butler. Good then! we know each other.

Macdonald. I should hope so.

Devereux. Soldiers of fortune are we—who bids most, He has us.

Macdonald. 'Tis e'en so!

Butler. Well, for the present Ye must remain honest and faithful soldiers.

Devereux. We wish no other.

Butler. Ay, and make your fortunes. 20

Macdonald. That is still better.

Butler. Listen!

Both. We attend.

Butler. It is the Emperor's will and ordinance To seize the person of the Prince-Duke Friedland, Alive or dead.

Devereux. It runs so in the letter.

Macdonald. Alive or dead—these were the very words. 25

Butler. And he shall be rewarded from the State In land and gold, who proffers aid thereto.

Devereux. Ay? That sounds well. The words sound always well That travel hither from the Court. Yes! yes! We know already what Court-words import. 30 A golden chain perhaps in sign of favour, Or an old charger, or a parchment patent, And such like.—The Prince-duke pays better.

Macdonald. Yes, The Duke's a splendid paymaster.

Butler. All over With that, my friends! His lucky stars are set. 35

Macdonald. And is that certain?

Butler. You have my word for it.

Devereux. His lucky fortunes all past by?

Butler. For ever. He is as poor as we.

Macdonald. As poor as we?

Devereux. Macdonald, we'll desert him.

Butler. We'll desert him? Full twenty thousand have done that already; 40 We must do more, my countrymen! In short— We—we must kill him.

Both. Kill him!

Butler. Yes! must kill him. And for that purpose have I chosen you.

Both. Us!

Butler. You, Captain Devereux, and thee, Macdonald. 45

Devereux (after a pause). Choose you some other.

Butler. What? art dastardly? Thou, with full thirty lives to answer for— Thou conscientious of a sudden?

Devereux. Nay, To assassinate our Lord and General—

Macdonald. To whom we've sworn a soldier's oath—

Butler. The oath 50 Is null, for Friedland is a traitor.

Devereux. No, no! It is too bad!

Macdonald. Yes, by my soul! It is too bad. One has a conscience too—

Devereux. If it were not our chieftain, who so long Has issued the commands, and claim'd our duty. 55

Butler. Is that the objection?

Devereux. Were it my own father, And the Emperor's service should demand it of me, It might be done perhaps—But we are soldiers, And to assassinate our chief commander, That is a sin, a foul abomination, 60 From which no monk or confessor absolves us.

Butler. I am your Pope, and give you absolution. Determine quickly!

Devereux. 'Twill not do!

Macdonald. 'Twon't do!

Butler. Well, off then! and—send Pestalutz to me.

Devereux. The Pestalutz—

Macdonald. What may you want with him? 65

Butler. If you reject it, we can find enough—

Devereux. Nay, if he must fall, we may earn the bounty As well as any other. What think you, Brother Macdonald?

Macdonald. Why if he must fall, And will fall, and it can't be otherwise, 70 One would not give place to this Pestalutz.

Devereux. When do you purpose he should fall?

Butler. This night. To-morrow will the Swedes be at our gates.

Devereux. You take upon you all the consequences!

Butler. I take the whole upon me.

Devereux. And it is 75 The Emperor's will, his express absolute will? For we have instances, that folks may like The murder, and yet hang the murderer.

Butler. The manifesto says—alive or dead. Alive—'tis not possible—you see it is not. 80

Devereux. Well, dead then! dead! But how can we come at him? The town is fill'd with Tertsky's soldiery.

Macdonald. Ay! and then Tertsky still remains, and Illo—

Butler. With these you shall begin—you understand me?

Devereux. How? And must they too perish?

Butler. They the first. 85

Macdonald. Hear, Devereux? A bloody evening this.

Devereux. Have you a man for that? Commission me—

Butler. 'Tis given in trust to Major Geraldin; This is a carnival night, and there's a feast Given at the castle—there we shall surprise them, 90 And hew them down. The Pestalutz and Lesley Have that commission—soon as that is finished—

Devereux. Hear, General! It will be all one to you. Hark'e! let me exchange with Geraldin.

Butler. 'Twill be the lesser danger with the Duke. 95

Devereux. Danger! The devil! What do you think me, General? 'Tis the Duke's eye, and not his sword, I fear.

Butler. What can his eye do to thee?

Devereux. Death and hell! Thou know'st that I'm no milk-sop, General! But 'tis not eight days since the Duke did send me 100 Twenty gold pieces for this good warm coat Which I have on! and then for him to see me Standing before him with the pike, his murderer, That eye of his looking upon this coat— Why—why—the devil fetch me! I'm no milk-sop! 105

Butler. The Duke presented thee this good warm coat, And thou, a needy wight, hast pangs of conscience To run him through the body in return. A coat that is far better and far warmer Did the Emperor give to him, the Prince's mantle. 110 How doth he thank the Emperor? With revolt, And treason.

Devereux. That is true. The devil take Such thankers! I'll dispatch him.

Butler. And would'st quiet Thy conscience, thou hast nought to do but simply Pull off the coat; so canst thou do the deed 115 With light heart and good spirits.

Devereux. You are right. That did not strike me. I'll pull off the coat— So there's an end of it.

Macdonald. Yes, but there's another Point to be thought of.

Butler. And what's that, Macdonald?

Macdonald. What avails sword or dagger against him? 120 He is not to be wounded—he is—

Butler. What?

Macdonald. Safe against shot, and stab and flash! Hard frozen, Secured, and warranted by the black art! His body is impenetrable, I tell you.

Devereux. In Inglestadt there was just such another— 125 His whole skin was the same as steel; at last We were obliged to beat him down with gunstocks.

Macdonald. Hear what I'll do.

Devereux. Well?

Macdonald. In the cloister here There's a Dominican, my countryman. I'll make him dip my sword and pike for me 130 In holy water, and say over them One of his strongest blessings. That's probatum! Nothing can stand 'gainst that.

Butler. So do, Macdonald! But now go and select from out the regiment Twenty or thirty able-bodied fellows, 135 And let them take the oaths to the Emperor. Then when it strikes eleven, when the first rounds Are passed, conduct them silently as may be To the house—I will myself be not far off.

Devereux. But how do we get through Hartschier and Gordon, 140 That stand on guard there in the inner chamber?

Butler. I have made myself acquainted with the place. I lead you through a back-door that's defended By one man only. Me my rank and office Give access to the Duke at every hour. 145 I'll go before you—with one poniard-stroke Cut Hartschier's wind-pipe, and make way for you.

Devereux. And when we are there, by what means shall we gain The Duke's bed-chamber, without his alarming The servants of the Court; for he has here 150 A numerous company of followers?

Butler. The attendants fill the right wing; he hates bustle, And lodges in the left wing quite alone.

Devereux. Were it well over—hey, Macdonald? I Feel queerly on the occasion, devil knows! 155

Macdonald. And I too. 'Tis too great a personage. People will hold us for a brace of villains.

Butler. In plenty, honour, splendour—You may safely Laugh at the people's babble.

Devereux. If the business Squares with one's honour—if that be quite certain— 160

Butler. Set your hearts quite at ease. Ye save for Ferdinand His Crown and Empire. The reward can be No small one.

Devereux. And 'tis his purpose to dethrone the Emperor?

Butler. Yes!—Yes!—to rob him of his crown and life. 165

Devereux. And he must fall by the executioner's hands, Should we deliver him up to the Emperor Alive?

Butler. It were his certain destiny.

Devereux. Well! Well! Come then, Macdonald, he shall not Lie long in pain. 170

[Exeunt BUTLER through one door, MACDONALD and DEVEREUX through the other.

LINENOTES:

[13] thinking 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 16] Butler (appeased). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[28] words 1800, 1828, 1829.

[42] Both (starting back). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[45] thee, Macdonald] the Macdonald 1800.

[65] Devereux (hesitates). The Pestalutz— 1800, 1828, 1829.

[69] must 1800, 1828, 1829.

[70] will 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 72] Devereux (after some reflection). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[120] him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[121] Butler (starting up). What? 1800, 1828, 1829.

[122] flash] slash 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE III

SCENE—A Gothic Apartment at the DUCHESS FRIEDLAND'S. THEKLA on a seat, pale, her eyes closed. The DUCHESS and LADY NEUBRUNN busied about her. WALLENSTEIN and the COUNTESS in conversation.

Wallenstein. How knew she it so soon?

Countess. She seems to have Foreboded some misfortune. The report Of an engagement, in the which had fallen A colonel of the Imperial army, frighten'd her. I saw it instantly. She flew to meet 5 The Swedish Courier, and with sudden questioning, Soon wrested from him the disastrous secret. Too late we missed her, hastened after her, We found her lying in his arms, all pale And in a swoon.

Wallenstein. A heavy, heavy blow! 10 And she so unprepared! Poor child! How is it?

[Turning to the DUCHESS.

Is she coming to herself?

Duchess. Her eyes are opening.

Countess. She lives.

Thekla (looking around her). Where am I?

Wallenstein (steps to her, raising her up in his arms). Come, cheerly, Thekla! be my own brave girl! See, there's thy loving mother. Thou art in 15 Thy father's arms.

Thekla (standing up). Where is he? Is he gone?

Duchess. Who gone, my daughter?

Thekla. He—the man who uttered That word of misery.

Duchess. O! think not of it, My Thekla!

Wallenstein. Give her sorrow leave to talk! Let her complain—mingle your tears with hers, 20 For she hath suffered a deep anguish; but She'll rise superior to it, for my Thekla Hath all her father's unsubdued heart.

Thekla. I am not ill. See, I have power to stand. Why does my mother weep? Have I alarmed her? 25 It is gone by—I recollect myself—

[She casts her eyes round the room, as seeking some one.

Where is he? Please you, do not hide him from me. You see I have strength enough: now I will hear him.

Duchess. No, never shall this messenger of evil Enter again into thy presence, Thekla! 30

Thekla. My father—

Wallenstein. Dearest daughter!

Thekla. I'm not weak— Shortly I shall be quite myself again. You'll grant me one request?

Wallenstein. Name it, my daughter.

Thekla. Permit the stranger to be called to me, And grant me leave, that by myself I may 35 Hear his report and question him.

Duchess. No, never!

Countess. 'Tis not advisable—assent not to it.

Wallenstein. Hush! Wherefore would'st thou speak with him, my daughter?

Thekla. Knowing the whole, I shall be more collected; I will not be deceived. My mother wishes 40 Only to spare me. I will not be spared. The worst is said already: I can hear Nothing of deeper anguish!

Countess and Duchess. Do it not.

Thekla. The horror overpowered me by surprise. My heart betrayed me in the stranger's presence; 45 He was a witness of my weakness, yea, I sank into his arms; and that has shamed me. I must replace myself in his esteem, And I must speak with him, perforce, that he, The stranger, may not think ungently of me. 50

Wallenstein. I see she is in the right, and am inclined To grant her this request of hers. Go, call him.

[LADY NEUBRUNN goes to call him.

Duchess. But I, thy mother, will be present—

Thekla. 'Twere More pleasing to me, if alone I saw him: Trust me, I shall behave myself the more 55 Collectedly.

Wallenstein. Permit her her own will. Leave her alone with him: for there are sorrows, Where of necessity the soul must be Its own support. A strong heart will rely On its own strength alone. In her own bosom, 60 Not in her mother's arms, must she collect The strength to rise superior to this blow. It is mine own brave girl. I'll have her treated Not as the woman, but the heroine. [Going.

Countess (detaining him). Where art thou going? I heard Tertsky say 65 That 'tis thy purpose to depart from hence To-morrow early, but to leave us here.

Wallenstein. Yes, ye stay here, placed under the protection Of gallant men.

Countess. O take us with you, brother. Leave us not in this gloomy solitude 70 To brood o'er anxious thoughts. The mists of doubt Magnify evils to a shape of horror.

Wallenstein. Who speaks of evil? I entreat you, sister, Use words of better omen.

Countess. Then take us with you. O leave us not behind you in a place 75 That forces us to such sad omens. Heavy And sick within me is my heart—— These walls breathe on me, like a church-yard vault. I cannot tell you, brother, how this place Doth go against my nature. Take us with you. 80 Come, sister, join you your entreaty!—Niece, Yours too. We all entreat you, take us with you!

Wallenstein. The place's evil omens will I change, Making it that which shields and shelters for me My best beloved.

Lady Neubrunn (returning). The Swedish officer. 85

Wallenstein. Leave her alone with him. [Exit.

Duchess (to Thekla who starts and shivers). There—pale as death!—Child, 'tis impossible That thou should'st speak with him. Follow thy mother.

Thekla. The Lady Neubrunn then may stay with me.

[Exeunt DUCHESS and COUNTESS.

LINENOTES:

SCENE—A Gothic and gloomy, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[66] thy 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IV

THEKLA, the Swedish Captain, LADY NEUBRUNN.

Captain. Princess—I must entreat your gentle pardon— My inconsiderate rash speech—How could I—

Thekla. You did behold me in my agony. A most distressful accident occasioned You from a stranger to become at once 5 My confidant.

Captain. I fear you hate my presence, For my tongue spake a melancholy word.

Thekla. The fault is mine. Myself did wrest it from you. The horror which came o'er me interrupted Your tale at its commencement. May it please you, 10 Continue it to the end.

Captain. Princess, 'twill Renew your anguish.

Thekla. I am firm.—— I will be firm. Well—how began the engagement?

Captain. We lay, expecting no attack, at Neustadt, Entrenched but insecurely in our camp, 15 When towards evening rose a cloud of dust From the wood thitherward; our vanguard fled Into the camp, and sounded the alarm. Scarce had we mounted, ere the Pappenheimers, Their horses at full speed, broke through the lines, 20 And leapt the trenches; but their heedless courage Had borne them onward far before the others— The infantry were still at distance, only The Pappenheimers followed daringly Their daring leader——

[THEKLA betrays agitation in her gestures. The officer pauses till she makes a sign to him to proceed.

Captain. Both in van and flanks 25 With our whole cavalry we now received them; Back to the trenches drove them, where the foot Stretched out a solid ridge of pikes to meet them. They neither could advance, nor yet retreat; And as they stood on every side wedged in, 30 The Rhinegrave to their leader called aloud, Inviting a surrender; but their leader, Young Piccolomini—— [THEKLA, as giddy, grasps a chair. Known by his plume, And his long hair, gave signal for the trenches; Himself leapt first, the regiment all plunged after. 35 His charger, by a halbert gored, reared up, Flung him with violence off, and over him The horses, now no longer to be curbed,——

[THEKLA, who has accompanied the last speech with all the marks of increasing agony, trembles through her whole frame, and is falling. The LADY NEUBRUNN runs to her, and receives her in her arms.

Neubrunn. My dearest lady——

Captain. I retire.

Thekla. 'Tis over. Proceed to the conclusion.

Captain. Wild despair 40 Inspired the troops with frenzy when they saw Their leader perish; every thought of rescue Was spurn'd; they fought like wounded tigers; their Frantic resistance rous'd our soldiery; A murderous fight took place, nor was the contest 45 Finish'd before their last man fell.

Thekla. And where—— Where is—You have not told me all.

Captain (after a pause). This morning We buried him. Twelve youths of noblest birth Did bear him to interment; the whole army Followed the bier. A laurel decked his coffin; 50 The sword of the deceased was placed upon it, In mark of honour, by the Rhinegrave's self. Nor tears were wanting; for there are among us Many, who had themselves experienced The greatness of his mind, and gentle manners; 55 All were affected at his fate. The Rhinegrave Would willingly have saved him; but himself Made vain the attempt—'tis said he wished to die.

Neubrunn (to Thekla who has hidden her countenance). Look up, my dearest lady——

Thekla. Where is his grave?

Captain. At Neustadt, lady; in a cloister church 60 Are his remains deposited, until We can receive directions from his father.

Thekla. What is the cloister's name?

Captain. Saint Catharine's.

Thekla. And how far is it thither?

Captain. Near twelve leagues.

Thekla. And which the way?

Captain. You go by Tirschenreit 65 And Falkenberg, through our advanced posts.

Thekla. Who Is their commander?

Captain. Colonel Seckendorf.

[THEKLA steps to the table, and takes a ring from a casket.

Thekla. You have beheld me in my agony, And shewn a feeling heart. Please you, accept

[Giving him the ring.

A small memorial of this hour. Now go! 70

Captain. Princess——

[THEKLA silently makes signs to him to go, and turns from him. The Captain lingers, and is about to speak. LADY NEUBRUNN repeats the signal, and he retires.

LINENOTES:

[Before 1] Captain (respectfully approaching her). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 3] Thekla (with dignity). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[3] did behold] have beheld 1800, 1828, 1829.

[13] will 1800, 1828, 1829.

[46] Thekla (faltering). And where— 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 71] Captain (confused). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE V

THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN.

Thekla (falls on Lady Neubrunn's neck). Now, gentle Neubrunn, shew me the affection Which thou hast ever promised—prove thyself My own true friend and faithful fellow-pilgrim. This night we must away!

Neubrunn. Away! and whither?

Thekla. Whither! There is but one place in the world. 5 Thither where he lies buried! To his coffin!

Neubrunn. What would you do there?

Thekla. What do there? That would'st thou not have asked, hadst thou e'er loved. There, there is all that still remains of him. That single spot is the whole earth to me. 10

Neubrunn. That place of death——

Thekla. Is now the only place, Where life yet dwells for me: detain me not! Come and make preparations: let us think Of means to fly from hence.

Neubrunn. Your father's rage——

Thekla. That time is past—— 15 And now I fear no human being's rage.

Neubrunn. The sentence of the world! The tongue of calumny!

Thekla. Whom am I seeking? Him who is no more. Am I then hastening to the arms——O God! I haste but to the grave of the beloved. 20

Neubrunn. And we alone, two helpless feeble women?

Thekla. We will take weapons: my arms shall protect thee.

Neubrunn. In the dark night-time?

Thekla. Darkness will conceal us.

Neubrunn. This rough tempestuous night——

Thekla. Had he a soft bed Under the hoofs of his war-horses?

Neubrunn. Heaven! 25 And then the many posts of the enemy!—

Thekla. They are human beings. Misery travels free Through the whole earth.

Neubrunn. The journey's weary length—

Thekla. The pilgrim, travelling to a distant shrine Of hope and healing, doth not count the leagues. 30

Neubrunn. How can we pass the gates?

Thekla. Gold opens them. Go, do but go.

Neubrunn. Should we be recognized—

Thekla. In a despairing woman, a poor fugitive, Will no one seek the daughter of Duke Friedland.

Neubrunn. And where procure we horses for our flight? 35

Thekla. My equerry procures them. Go and fetch him.

Neubrunn. Dares he, without the knowledge of his lord?

Thekla. He will. Go, only go. Delay no longer.

Neubrunn. Dear lady! and your mother?

Thekla. Oh! my mother!

Neubrunn. So much as she has suffered too already; 40 Your tender mother—Ah! how ill prepared For this last anguish!

Thekla. Woe is me! my mother! [Pauses. Go instantly.

Neubrunn. But think what you are doing!

Thekla. What can be thought, already has been thought.

Neubrunn. And being there, what purpose you to do? 45

Thekla. There a divinity will prompt my soul.

Neubrunn. Your heart, dear lady, is disquieted! And this is not the way that leads to quiet.

Thekla. To a deep quiet, such as he has found. It draws me on, I know not what to name it, 50 Resistless does it draw me to his grave. There will my heart be eased, my tears will flow. O hasten, make no further questioning! There is no rest for me till I have left These walls—they fall in on me—A dim power 55 Drives me from hence—Oh mercy! What a feeling! What pale and hollow forms are those! They fill, They crowd the place! I have no longer room here! Mercy! Still more! More still! The hideous swarm! They press on me; they chase me from these walls— 60 Those hollow, bodiless forms of living men!

Neubrunn. You frighten me so, lady, that no longer I dare stay here myself. I go and call Rosenberg instantly. [Exit LADY NEUBRUNN.

LINENOTES:

[22] arms] arm 1800, 1828, 1829.

[44] can 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VI

Thekla. His spirit 'tis that calls me: 'tis the troop Of his true followers, who offered up Themselves to avenge his death: and they accuse me Of an ignoble loitering—they would not Forsake their leader even in his death—they died for him! 5 And shall I live?—— For me too was that laurel-garland twined That decks his bier. Life is an empty casket: I throw it from me. O! my only hope;— To die beneath the hoofs of trampling steeds— 10 That is the lot of heroes upon earth! [Exit THEKLA.[793:1]

(The curtain drops.)

FOOTNOTES:

[793:1] The soliloquy of Thekla consists in the original of six-and-twenty lines, twenty of which are in rhymes of irregular recurrence. I thought it prudent to abridge it. Indeed the whole scene between Thekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps, have been omitted without injury to the play. 1800, 1828, 1829.

LINENOTES:

[4] they 1800, 1828, 1829.

[5] they 1800, 1828, 1829.

[6] I 1800, 1828, 1829.



ACT V

SCENE I

SCENE—A Saloon, terminated by a gallery which extends far into the back-ground. WALLENSTEIN sitting at a table. The Swedish Captain standing before him.

Wallenstein. Commend me to your lord. I sympathize In his good fortune; and if you have seen me Deficient in the expressions of that joy Which such a victory might well demand, Attribute it to no lack of good will, 5 For henceforth are our fortunes one. Farewell, And for your trouble take my thanks. To-morrow The citadel shall be surrendered to you On your arrival.

[The Swedish Captain retires. WALLENSTEIN sits lost in thought, his eyes fixed vacantly, and his head sustained by his hand. The COUNTESS TERTSKY enters, stands before him awhile, unobserved by him; at length he starts, sees her, and recollects himself.

Wallenstein. Com'st thou from her? Is she restored? How is she? 10

Countess. My sister tells me, she was more collected After her conversation with the Swede. She has now retired to rest.

Wallenstein. The pang will soften, She will shed tears.

Countess. I find thee altered too, My brother! After such a victory 15 I had expected to have found in thee A cheerful spirit. O remain thou firm! Sustain, uphold us! For our light thou art, Our sun.

Wallenstein. Be quiet. I ail nothing. Where's Thy husband?

Countess. At a banquet—he and Illo. 20

Wallenstein (rises). The night's far spent. Betake thee to thy chamber.

Countess. Bid me not go, O let me stay with thee!

Wallenstein (moves to the window). There is a busy motion in the Heaven, The wind doth chase the flag upon the tower, Fast sweep the clouds, the sickle[794:1] of the moon, 25 Struggling, darts snatches of uncertain light. No form of star is visible! That one White stain of light, that single glimmering yonder, Is from Cassiopeia, and therein Is Jupiter. (A pause.) But now 30 The blackness of the troubled element hides him!

[He sinks into profound melancholy, and looks vacantly into the distance.

Countess (looks on him mournfully, then grasps his hand). What art thou brooding on?

Wallenstein. Methinks, If I but saw him, 'twould be well with me. He, is the star of my nativity, And often marvellously hath his aspect 35 Shot strength into my heart.

Countess. Thou'lt see him again.

Wallenstein. See him again? O never, never again.

Countess. How?

Wallenstein. He is gone—is dust.

Countess. Whom meanest thou then?

Wallenstein. He, the more fortunate! yea, he hath finished! For him there is no longer any future, 40 His life is bright—bright without spot it was, And cannot cease to be. No ominous hour Knocks at his door with tidings of mishap. Far off is he, above desire and fear; No more submitted to the change and chance 45 Of the unsteady planets. O 'tis well With him! but who knows what the coming hour Veil'd in thick darkness brings for us!

Countess. Thou speakest Of Piccolomini. What was his death? The courier had just left thee as I came. 50

[WALLENSTEIN by a motion of his hand makes signs to her to be silent.

Turn not thine eyes upon the backward view, Let us look forward into sunny days, Welcome with joyous heart the victory, Forget what it has cost thee. Not to-day, For the first time, thy friend was to thee dead; 55 To thee he died, when first he parted from thee.

Wallenstein. I shall grieve down this blow, of that I'm conscious. What does not man grieve down? From the highest, As from the vilest thing of every day He learns to wean himself: for the strong hours 60 Conquer him. Yet I feel what I have lost In him. The bloom is vanished from my life. For O! he stood beside me, like my youth, Transformed for me the real to a dream, Clothing the palpable and familiar 65 With golden exhalations of the dawn. Whatever fortunes wait my future toils, The beautiful is vanished—and returns not.

Countess. O be not treacherous to thy own power. Thy heart is rich enough to vivify 70 Itself. Thou lov'st and prizest virtues in him, The which thyself did'st plant, thyself unfold.

Wallenstein (stepping to the door). Who interrupts us now at this late hour? It is the Governor. He brings the keys Of the Citadel. 'Tis midnight. Leave me, sister! 75

Countess. O 'tis so hard to me this night to leave thee— A boding fear possesses me!

Wallenstein. Fear? Wherefore?

Countess. Should'st thou depart this night, and we at waking Never more find thee!

Wallenstein. Fancies!

Countess. O my soul Has long been weighed down by these dark forebodings. 80 And if I combat and repel them waking, They still rush down upon my heart in dreams, I saw thee yesternight with thy first wife Sit at a banquet gorgeously attired.

Wallenstein. This was a dream of favourable omen, 85 That marriage being the founder of my fortunes.

Countess. To-day I dreamt that I was seeking thee In thy own chamber. As I entered, lo! It was no more a chamber; the Chartreuse At Gitschin 'twas, which thou thyself hast founded, 90 And where it is thy will that thou should'st be Interred.

Wallenstein. Thy soul is busy with these thoughts.

Countess. What dost thou not believe that oft in dreams A voice of warning speaks prophetic to us?

Wallenstein. There is no doubt that there exist such voices. 95 Yet I would not call them Voices of warning that announce to us Only the inevitable. As the sun, Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits 100 Of great events stride on before the events, And in to-day already walks to-morrow. That which we read of the fourth Henry's death Did ever vex and haunt me like a tale Of my own future destiny. The King 105 Felt in his breast the phantom of the knife, Long ere Ravaillac arm'd himself therewith. His quiet mind forsook him: the phantasma Started him in his Louvre, chased him forth Into the open air: like funeral knells 110 Sounded that coronation festival; And still with boding sense he heard the tread Of those feet that ev'n then were seeking him Throughout the streets of Paris.

Countess. And to thee The voice within thy soul bodes nothing?

Wallenstein. Nothing. 115 Be wholly tranquil.

Countess. And another time I hastened after thee, and thou ran'st from me Through a long suite, through many a spacious hall, There seemed no end of it: doors creaked and clapped; I followed panting, but could not o'ertake thee; 120 When on a sudden did I feel myself Grasped from behind—the hand was cold that grasped me— 'Twas thou, and thou did'st kiss me, and there seemed A crimson covering to envelop us.

Wallenstein. That is the crimson tapestry of my chamber. 125

Countess (gazing on him). If it should come to that—if I should see thee, Who standest now before me in the fulness Of life— [She falls on his breast and weeps.

Wallenstein. The Emperor's proclamation weighs upon thee— Alphabets wound not—and he finds no hands. 130

Countess. If he should find them, my resolve is taken— I bear about me my support and refuge. [Exit COUNTESS.

FOOTNOTES:

[794:1] These four lines are expressed in the original with exquisite felicity.

'Am Himmel ist geschftige Bewegung, Des Thurmes Fahne jagt der Wind, schnell geht Der Wolken Zug, die Mondessichel wankt, Und durch die Nacht zeucht ungewisse Helle.'

The word 'moon-sickle' reminds me of a passage in Harris, as quoted by Johnson, under the word 'falcated'. 'The enlightened part of the moon appears in the form of a sickle or reaping-hook, which is while she is moving from the conjunction to the opposition, or from the new moon to the full: but from full to a new again, the enlightened part appears gibbous, and the dark falcated.'

The words 'wanken' and 'schweben' are not easily translated. The English words, by which we attempt to render them, are either vulgar or pedantic, or not of sufficiently general application. So 'der Wolken Zug'—The Draft, the Procession of Clouds.—The Masses of the Clouds sweep onward in swift stream.

LINENOTES:

[17] thou 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 21] Wallenstein (rises and strides across the saloon). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[25] sweep] fly 1800: sail MS. R.

[Before 37] Wallenstein (remains for a while with absent mind, then assumes a livelier manner, and turns suddenly to the Countess). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[41] was 1800, 1828, 1829.

[47] him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[57, 58]

This anguish will be wearied down, I know; What pang is permanent with man?

A very inadequate translation of the original.

'Verschmerzen werd' ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich, Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch!'

Literally—

I shall grieve down this blow, of that I'm conscious: What does not man grieve down?

1800, 1828, 1829.

NOTE. In 1834 the literal translation of ll. 57, 58 was substituted for the text of the variant and the footnote was omitted.

[65] Clothing the palpable and the familiar 1800, 1828, 1829.

[68] beautiful 1800, 1828, 1829.

[96] them 1800, 1828, 1829.

[114] thee 1800, 1828, 1829.

[131] should 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

WALLENSTEIN, GORDON.

Wallenstein. All quiet in the town?

Gordon. The town is quiet.

Wallenstein. I hear a boisterous music! and the Castle Is lighted up. Who are the revellers?

Gordon. There is a banquet given at the Castle To the Count Tertsky, and Field Marshal Illo. 5

Wallenstein. In honour of the victory.—This tribe Can shew their joy in nothing else but feasting.

[Rings. The Groom of the Chamber enters.

Unrobe me. I will lay me down to sleep.

[WALLENSTEIN takes the keys from GORDON.

So we are guarded from all enemies, And shut in with sure friends. 10 For all must cheat me, or a face like this

[Fixing his eye on GORDON.

Was ne'er a hypocrite's mask.

[The Groom of the Chamber takes off his mantle, collar and scarf.

Wallenstein. Take care—what is that?

Groom of the Chamber. The golden chain is snapped in two.

Wallenstein. Well, it has lasted long enough. Here—give it.

[He takes and looks at the chain.

'Twas the first present of the Emperor. 15 He hung it round me in the war of Friule, He being then Archduke; and I have worn it Till now from habit—— From superstition if you will. Belike, It was to be a talisman to me, 20 And while I wore it on my neck in faith, It was to chain to me all my life long The volatile fortune whose first pledge it was. Well, be it so! Henceforward a new fortune Must spring up for me; for the potency 25 Of this charm is dissolved.

[Groom of the Chamber retires with the vestments. WALLENSTEIN rises, takes a stride across the room, and stands at last before GORDON in a posture of meditation.

How the old time returns upon me! I Behold myself once more at Burgau, where We two were pages of the Court together. We oftentimes disputed: thy intention 30 Was ever good; but thou wert wont to play The moralist and preacher, and would'st rail at me That I strove after things too high for me, Giving my faith to bold unlawful dreams, And still extol to me the golden mean. 35 —Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friend To thy own self. See, it has made thee early A superannuated man, and (but That my munificent stars will intervene) Would let thee in some miserable corner 40 Go out like an untended lamp.

Gordon. My Prince! With light heart the poor fisher moors his boat, And watches from the shore the lofty ship Stranded amid the storm.

Wallenstein. Art thou already In harbour then, old man? Well! I am not. 45 The unconquered spirit drives me o'er life's billows; My planks still firm, my canvas swelling proudly. Hope is my goddess still, and youth my inmate; And while we stand thus front to front almost, I might presume to say, that the swift years 50 Have passed by powerless o'er my unblanched hair.

[He moves with long strides across the saloon, and remains on the opposite side over against GORDON.

Who now persists in calling Fortune false? To me she has proved faithful, with fond love Took me from out the common ranks of men, And like a mother goddess, with strong arm 55 Carried me swiftly up the steps of life. Nothing is common in my destiny, Nor in the furrows of my hand. Who dares Interpret then my life for me as 'twere One of the undistinguishable many? 60 True in this present moment I appear Fallen low indeed; but I shall rise again. The high flood will soon follow on this ebb; The fountain of my fortune, which now stops Repressed and bound by some malicious star, 65 Will soon in joy play forth from all its pipes.

Gordon. And yet remember I the good old proverb, 'Let the night come before we praise the day.' I would be slow from long-continued fortune To gather hope: for hope is the companion 70 Given to the unfortunate by pitying Heaven. Fear hovers round the head of prosperous men, For still unsteady are the scales of fate.

Wallenstein (smiling). I hear the very Gordon that of old Was wont to preach to me, now once more preaching; 75 I know well, that all sublunary things Are still the vassals of vicissitude. The unpropitious gods demand their tribute. This long ago the ancient Pagans knew: And therefore of their own accord they offered 80 To themselves injuries, so to atone The jealousy of their divinities: And human sacrifices bled to Typhon.

[After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner.

I too have sacrific'd to him—For me There fell the dearest friend, and through my fault 85 He fell! No joy from favourable fortune Can overweigh the anguish of this stroke. The envy of my destiny is glutted: Life pays for life. On his pure head the lightning Was drawn off which would else have shattered me. 90

SCENE III

To these enter SENI.

Wallenstein. Is not that Seni? and beside himself, If one may trust his looks! What brings thee hither At this late hour, Baptista?

Seni. Terror, Duke! On thy account.

Wallenstein. What now?

Seni. Flee ere the day-break! Trust not thy person to the Swedes!

Wallenstein. What now 5 Is in thy thoughts?

Seni (with louder voice). Trust not thy person to these Swedes.

Wallenstein. What is it then?

Seni (still more urgently). O wait not the arrival of these Swedes! An evil near at hand is threatening thee From false friends. All the signs stand full of horror! 10 Near, near at hand the net-work of perdition— Yea, even now 'tis being cast around thee!

Wallenstein. Baptista, thou art dreaming!—Fear befools thee.

Seni. Believe not that an empty fear deludes me. Come, read it in the planetary aspects; 15 Read it thyself, that ruin threatens thee From false friends!

Wallenstein. From the falseness of my friends Has risen the whole of my unprosperous fortunes. The warning should have come before! At present I need no revelation from the stars 20 To know that.

Seni. Come and see! trust thine own eyes! A fearful sign stands in the house of life; An enemy, a fiend lurks close behind The radiance of thy planet—O be warned! Deliver not thyself up to these heathens 25 To wage a war against our holy church.

Wallenstein (laughing gently). The oracle rails that way! Yes, yes! Now I recollect. This junction with the Swedes Did never please thee—lay thyself to sleep, Baptista! Signs like these I do not fear. 30

Gordon (who during the whole of this dialogue has shewn marks of extreme agitation, and now turns to Wallenstein). My Duke and General! May I dare presume?

Wallenstein. Speak freely.

Gordon. What if 'twere no mere creation Of fear, if God's high providence vouchsaf'd To interpose its aid for your deliverance, And made that mouth its organ.

Wallenstein. Ye're both feverish! 35 How can mishap come to me from the Swedes? They sought this junction with me—'tis their interest.

Gordon (with difficulty suppressing his emotion). But what if the arrival of these Swedes— What if this were the very thing that winged The ruin that is flying to your temples? 40

[Flings himself at his feet.

There is yet time, my Prince.

Seni. O hear him! hear him!

Gordon (rises). The Rhinegrave's still far off. Give but the orders, This citadel shall close its gates upon him. If then he will besiege us, let him try it. But this I say; he'll find his own destruction 45 With his whole force before these ramparts, sooner Than weary down the valour of our spirit. He shall experience what a band of heroes, Inspirited by an heroic leader, Is able to perform. And if indeed 50 It be thy serious wish to make amends For that which thou hast done amiss,—this, this Will touch and reconcile the Emperor, Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy, And Friedland, who returns repentant to him, 55 Will stand yet higher in his Emperor's favour, Than e'er he stood when he had never fallen.

Wallenstein (contemplates him with surprise, remains silent awhile, betraying strong emotion). Gordon—your zeal and fervour lead you far. Well, well—an old friend has a privilege. Blood, Gordon, has been flowing. Never, never 60 Can the Emperor pardon me: and if he could, Yet I—I ne'er could let myself be pardoned. Had I foreknown what now has taken place, That he, my dearest friend, would fall for me, My first death-offering: and had the heart 65 Spoken to me, as now it has done—Gordon, It may be, I might have bethought myself. It may be too, I might not. Might or might not, Is now an idle question. All too seriously Has it begun to end in nothing, Gordon! 70 Let it then have its course. [Stepping to the window. All dark and silent—at the castle too All is now hushed—Light me, Chamberlain!

[The Groom of the Chamber, who had entered during the last dialogue, and had been standing at a distance and listening to it with visible expressions of the deepest interest, advances in extreme agitation, and throws himself at the DUKE'S feet.

And thou too! But I know why thou dost wish My reconcilement with the Emperor. 75 Poor man! he hath a small estate in Crnthen, And fears it will be forfeited because He's in my service. Am I then so poor, That I no longer can indemnify My servants? Well! To no one I employ 80 Means of compulsion. If 'tis thy belief That fortune has fled from me, go! Forsake me. This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me, And then go over to thy Emperor. Gordon, good night! I think to make a long 85 Sleep of it: for the struggle and the turmoil Of this last day or two were great. May't please you! Take care that they awake me not too early.

[Exit WALLENSTEIN, the Groom of the Chamber lighting him. SENI follows. GORDON remains on the darkened stage, following the DUKE with his eye, till he disappears at the farther end of the gallery: then by his gestures the old man expresses the depth of his anguish, and stands leaning against a pillar.

LINENOTES:

[51] amends] amend 1800, 1828, 1829.

[87] were] was 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IV

GORDON, BUTLER (at first behind the scenes).

Butler (not yet come into view of the stage). Here stand in silence till I give the signal.

Gordon (starts up). 'Tis he, he has already brought the murderers.

Butler. The lights are out. All lies in profound sleep.

Gordon. What shall I do, shall I attempt to save him? Shall I call up the house? Alarm the guards? 5

Butler (appears, but scarcely on the stage). A light gleams hither from the corridor. It leads directly to the Duke's bedchamber.

Gordon. But then I break my oath to the Emperor; If he escape and strengthen the enemy, Do I not hereby call down on my head 10 All the dread consequences?

Butler (stepping forward). Hark! Who speaks there?

Gordon. 'Tis better, I resign it to the hands Of providence. For what am I, that I Should take upon myself so great a deed? I have not murdered him, if he be murdered: 15 But all his rescue were my act and deed; Mine—and whatever be the consequences, I must sustain them.

Butler (advances). I should know that voice.

Gordon. Butler!

Butler. 'Tis Gordon. What do you want here? Was it so late then, when the Duke dismissed you? 20

Gordon. Your hand bound up and in a scarf?

Butler. 'Tis wounded. That Illo fought as he was frantic, till At last we threw him on the ground.

Gordon. Both dead?

Butler. Is he in bed?

Gordon. Ah, Butler!

Butler. Is he? speak.

Gordon. He shall not perish! Not through you! The Heaven 25 Refuses your arm. See—'tis wounded!—

Butler. There is no need of my arm.

Gordon. The most guilty Have perished, and enough is given to justice.

[The Groom of the Chamber advances from the gallery with his finger on his mouth, commanding silence.

Gordon. He sleeps! O murder not the holy sleep!

Butler. No! he shall die awake. [Is going.

Gordon. His heart still cleaves 30 To earthly things: he's not prepared to step Into the presence of his God!

Butler (going). God's merciful!

Gordon (holds him). Grant him but this night's respite.

Butler (hurrying off). The next moment May ruin all.

Gordon (holds him still). One hour!——

Butler. Unhold me! What Can that short respite profit him?

Gordon. O—Time 35 Works miracles. In one hour many thousands Of grains of sand run out; and quick as they, Thought follows thought within the human soul. Only one hour! Your heart may change its purpose, His heart may change its purpose—some new tidings 40 May come; some fortunate event, decisive, May fall from Heaven and rescue him. O what May not one hour achieve!

Butler. You but remind me, How precious every minute is!

(He stamps on the floor.)

LINENOTES:

[13] that I 1800, 1828, 1829.

[15] I 1800, 1828, 1829.

[16] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

[17] Mine 1800, 1828, 1829.

[19] you 1800, 1828, 1829.

[23] Gordon (shuddering). Both dead? 1800, 1828, 1829.

[25] not 1800, 1828, 1829.

[26] your 1800, 1828.

[27] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

[39] Your 1800, 1828, 1829.

[40] His 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE V

To these enter MACDONALD and DEVEREUX, with the Halberdiers.

Gordon (throwing himself between him and them). No, monster! First over my dead body thou shalt tread. I will not live to see the accursed deed!

Butler (forcing him out of the way). Weak-hearted dotard!

[Trumpets are heard in the distance.

Devereux and Macdonald. Hark! The Swedish trumpets! The Swedes before the ramparts! Let us hasten! 5

Gordon (rushes out). O, God of Mercy!

Butler (calling after him). Governor, to your post!

Groom of the Chamber (hurries in). Who dares make larum here? Hush! The Duke sleeps.

Devereux (with loud harsh voice). Friend, it is time now to make larum.

Groom of the Chamber. Help! Murder!

Butler. Down with him!

Groom of the Chamber (run through the body by Devereux, falls at the entrance of the gallery). Jesus Maria!

Butler. Burst the doors open! 10

[They rush over the body into the gallery—two doors are heard to crash one after the other—Voices deadened by the distance—Clash of arms—then all at once a profound silence.

SCENE VI

Countess Tertsky (with a light). Her bed-chamber is empty; she herself Is no where to be found! The Neubrunn too, Who watched by her, is missing. If she should Be flown—But whither flown? We must call up Every soul in the house. How will the Duke 5 Bear up against these worst bad tidings? O If that my husband now were but returned Home from the banquet: Hark! I wonder whether The Duke is still awake! I thought I heard Voices and tread of feet here! I will go 10 And listen at the door. Hark! What is that? 'Tis hastening up the steps!

SCENE VII

COUNTESS, GORDON.

Gordon (rushes in out of breath). 'Tis a mistake, 'Tis not the Swedes—Ye must proceed no further— Butler! O God! Where is he? [Then observing the COUNTESS. Countess! Say——

Countess. You are come then from the castle? Where's my husband?

Gordon. Your husband!—Ask not!—To the Duke—— 5

Countess. Not till You have discovered to me——

Gordon. On this moment Does the world hang. For God's sake! to the Duke. While we are speaking—— [Calling loudly. Butler! Butler! God!

Countess. Why, he is at the castle with my husband.

[BUTLER comes from the gallery.

Gordon. 'Twas a mistake—'Tis not the Swedes—it is 10 The Imperialist's Lieutenant-General Has sent me hither, will be here himself Instantly.—You must not proceed.