ILLO.
That was a chance.
WALLENSTEIN (significantly).
There's no such thing as chance
And what to us seems merest accident
Springs from the deepest source of destiny.
In brief, 'tis signed and sealed that this Octavio
Is my good angel--and now no word more.
[He is retiring.
TERZKY.
This is my comfort--Max. remains our hostage.
ILLO.
And he shall never stir from here alive.
WALLENSTEIN (stops and turns himself round).
Are ye not like the women, who forever
Only recur to their first word, although
One had been talking reason by the hour!
Know, that the human being's thoughts and deeds
Are not like ocean billows, blindly moved.
The inner world, his microcosmus, is
The deep shaft, out of which they spring eternally.
They grow by certain laws, like the tree's fruit--
No juggling chance can metamorphose them.
Have I the human kernel first examined?
Then I know, too, the future will and action.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Chamber in the residence of Piccolomini: OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI
(attired for travelling), an ADJUTANT.
OCTAVIO.
Is the detachment here?
ADJUTANT.
It waits below.
OCTAVIO.
And are the soldiers trusty, adjutant?
Say, from what regiment hast thou chosen them?
ADJUTANT.
From Tiefenbach's.
OCTAVIO.
That regiment is loyal,
Keep them in silence in the inner court,
Unseen by all, and when the signal peals
Then close the doors, keep watch upon the house.
And all ye meet be instantly arrested.
[Exit ADJUTANT.
I hope indeed I shall not need their service,
So certain feel I of my well-laid plans;
But when an empire's safety is at stake
'Twere better too much caution than too little.
SCENE V.
A chamber in PICCOLOMINI's dwelling-house: OCTAVIO,
PICCOLOMINI, ISOLANI, entering.
ISOLANI.
Here am I--well! who comes yet of the others?
OCTAVIO (with an air of mystery).
But, first, a word with you, Count Isolani.
ISOLANI (assuming the same air of mystery).
Will it explode, ha? Is the duke about
To make the attempt? In me, friend, you may place
Full confidence--nay, put me to the proof.
OCTAVIO.
That may happen.
ISOLANI.
Noble brother, I am
Not one of those men who in words are valiant,
And when it comes to action skulk away.
The duke has acted towards me as a friend:
God knows it is so; and I owe him all;
He may rely on my fidelity.
OCTAVIO.
That will be seen hereafter.
ISOLANI.
Be on your guard,
All think not as I think; and there are many
Who still hold with the court--yes, and they say
That these stolen signatures bind them to nothing.
OCTAVIO.
Indeed! Pray name to me the chiefs that think so;
ISOLANI.
Plague upon them! all the Germans think so
Esterhazy, Kaunitz, Deodati, too,
Insist upon obedience to the court.
OCTAVIO.
I am rejoiced to hear it.
ISOLANI.
You rejoice?
OCTAVIO.
That the emperor has yet such gallant servants,
And loving friends.
ISOLANI.
Nay, jeer not, I entreat you.
They are no such worthless fellows, I assure you.
OCTAVIO.
I am assured already. God forbid
That I should jest! In very serious earnest,
I am rejoiced to see an honest cause
So strong.
ISOLANI.
The devil!--what!--why, what means this?
Are you not, then----For what, then, am I here?
OCTAVIO.
That you may make full declaration, whether
You will be called the friend or enemy
Of the emperor.
ISOLANI (with an air of defiance).
That declaration, friend,
I'll make to him in whom a right is placed
To put that question to me.
OCTAVIO.
Whether, count,
That right is mine, this paper may instruct you.
ISOLANI (stammering).
Why,--why--what! this is the emperor's hand and seal
[Reads.
"Whereas the officers collectively
Throughout our army will obey the orders
Of the Lieutenant-General Piccolomini,
As from ourselves."--Hem!--Yes! so!--Yes! yes!
I--I give you joy, lieutenant-general!
OCTAVIO.
And you submit to the order?
ISOLANI.
I--
But you have taken me so by surprise
Time for reflection one must have----
OCTAVIO.
Two minutes.
ISOLANI.
My God! But then the case is----
OCTAVIO.
Plain and simple.
You must declare you, whether you determine
To act a treason 'gainst your lord and sovereign,
Or whether you will serve him faithfully.
ISOLANI.
Treason! My God! But who talks then of treason?
OCTAVIO.
That is the case. The prince-duke is a traitor--
Means to lead over to the enemy
The emperor's army. Now, count! brief and full--
Say, will you break your oath to the emperor?
Sell yourself to the enemy? Say, will you?
ISOLANI.
What mean you? I--I break my oath, d'ye say,
To his imperial majesty?
Did I say so! When, when have I said that?
OCTAVIO.
You have not said it yet--not yet. This instant
I wait to hear, count, whether you will say it.
ISOLANI.
Ay! that delights me now, that you yourself
Bear witness for me that I never said so.
OCTAVIO.
And you renounce the duke then?
ISOLANI.
If he's planning
Treason--why, treason breaks all bonds asunder.
OCTAVIO.
And are determined, too, to fight against him?
ISOLANI.
He has done me service--but if he's a villain,
Perdition seize him! All scores are rubbed off.
OCTAVIO.
I am rejoiced that you are so well disposed.
This night break off in the utmost secrecy
With all the light-armed troops--it must appear
As came the order from the duke himself.
At Frauenberg's the place of rendezvous;
There will Count Gallas give you further orders.
ISOLANI.
It shall be done. But you'll remember me
With the emperor--how well disposed you found me.
OCTAVIO.
I will not fail to mention it honorably.
[Exit ISOLANI. A SERVANT enters.
What, Colonel Butler! Show him up.
ISOLANI (returning).
Forgive me too my bearish ways, old father!
Lord God! how should I know, then, what a great
Person I had before me.
OCTAVIO.
No excuses!
ISOLANI.
I am a merry lad, and if at time
A rash word might escape me 'gainst the court
Amidst my wine,--you know no harm was meant.
OCTAVIO.
You need not be uneasy on that score.
That has succeeded. Fortune favor us
With all the others only but as much.
[Exit.
SCENE VI.
OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, BUTLER.
BUTLER.
At your command, lieutenant-general.
OCTAVIO.
Welcome, as honored friend and visitor.
BUTLER.
You do me too much honor.
OCTAVIO (after both have seated themselves)
You have not
Returned the advances which I made you yesterday--
Misunderstood them as mere empty forms.
That wish proceeded from my heart--I was
In earnest with you--for 'tis now a time
In which the honest should unite most closely.
BUTLER.
'Tis only the like-minded can unite.
OCTAVIO.
True! and I name all honest men like-minded.
I never charge a man but with those acts
To which his character deliberately
Impels him; for alas! the violence
Of blind misunderstandings often thrusts
The very best of us from the right track.
You came through Frauenberg. Did the Count Gallas
Say nothing to you? Tell me. He's my friend.
BUTLER.
His words were lost on me.
OCTAVIO.
It grieves me sorely
To hear it: for his counsel was most wise.
I had myself the like to offer.
BUTLER.
Spare
Yourself the trouble--me the embarrassment.
To have deserved so ill your good opinion.
OCTAVIO.
The time is precious--let us talk openly.
You know how matters stand here. Wallenstein
Meditates treason--I can tell you further,
He has committed treason; but few hours
Have past since he a covenant concluded
With the enemy. The messengers are now
Full on their way to Egra and to Prague.
To-morrow he intends to lead us over
To the enemy. But he deceives himself;
For prudence wakes--the emperor has still
Many and faithful friends here, and they stand
In closest union, mighty though unseen.
This manifesto sentences the duke--
Recalls the obedience of the army from him,
And summons all the loyal, all the honest,
To join and recognize in me their leader.
Choose--will you share with us an honest cause?
Or with the evil share an evil lot?
BUTLER (rises).
His lot is mine.
OCTAVIO.
Is that your last resolve?
BUTLER.
It is.
OCTAVIO.
Nay, but bethink you, Colonel Butler.
As yet you have time. Within my faithful breast
That rashly uttered word remains interred.
Recall it, Butler! choose a better party;
You have not chosen the right one.
BUTLER (going).
Any other
Commands for me, lieutenant-general?
OCTAVIO.
See your white hairs; recall that word!
BUTLER.
Farewell!
OCTAVIO.
What! Would you draw this good and gallant sword
In such a cause? Into a curse would you
Transform the gratitude which you have earned
By forty years' fidelity from Austria?
BUTLER (laughing with bitterness).
Gratitude from the House of Austria!
[He is going.
OCTAVIO (permits him to go as far as the door, then calls after him).
Butler!
BUTLER.
What wish you?
OCTAVIO.
How was't with the count?
BUTLER.
Count? what?
OCTAVIO (coldly).
The title that you wished, I mean.
BUTLER (starts in sudden passion).
Hell and damnation!
OCTAVIO (coldly).
You petitioned for it--
And your petition was repelled--was it so?
BUTLER.
Your insolent scoff shall not go by unpunished.
Draw!
OCTAVIO.
Nay! your sword to its sheath! and tell me calmly
How all that happened. I will not refuse you
Your satisfaction afterwards. Calmly, Butler!
BUTLER.
Be the whole world acquainted with the weakness
For which I never can forgive myself,
Lieutenant-general! Yes; I have ambition.
Ne'er was I able to endure contempt.
It stung me to the quick that birth and title
Should have more weight than merit has in the army.
I would fain not be meaner than my equal,
So in an evil hour I let myself
Be tempted to that measure. It was folly!
But yet so hard a penance it deserved not.
It might have been refused; but wherefore barb
And venom the refusal with contempt?
Why dash to earth and crush with heaviest scorn
The gray-haired man, the faithful veteran?
Why to the baseness of his parentage
Refer him with such cruel roughness, only
Because he had a weak hour and forgot himself?
But nature gives a sting e'en to the worm
Which wanton power treads on in sport and insult.
OCTAVIO.
You must have been calumniated. Guess you
The enemy who did you this ill service?
BUTLER.
Be't who it will--a most low-hearted scoundrel!
Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard;
Some young squire of some ancient family,
In whose light I may stand; some envious knave,
Stung to his soul by my fair self-earned honors!
OCTAVIO.
But tell me, did the duke approve that measure?
BUTLER.
Himself impelled me to it, used his interest
In my behalf with all the warmth of friendship.
OCTAVIO.
Ay! are you sure of that?
BUTLER.
I read the letter.
OCTAVIO.
And so did I--but the contents were different.
[BUTLER is suddenly struck.
By chance I'm in possession of that letter--
Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you.
[He gives him the letter.
BUTLER.
Ha! what is this?
OCTAVIO.
I fear me, Colonel Butler,
An infamous game have they been playing with you.
The duke, you say, impelled you to this measure?
Now, in this letter, talks he in contempt
Concerning you; counsels the minister
To give sound chastisement to your conceit,
For so he calls it.
[BUTLER reads through the letter; his knees tremble, he seizes a
chair, and sinks clown in it.
You have no enemy, no persecutor;
There's no one wishes ill to you. Ascribe
The insult you received to the duke only.
His aim is clear and palpable. He wished
To tear you from your emperor: he hoped
To gain from your revenge what he well knew
(What your long tried fidelity convinced him)
He ne'er could dare expect from your calm reason.
A blind tool would he make you, in contempt
Use you, as means of most abandoned ends.
He has gained his point. Too well has he succeeded
In luring you away from that good path
On which you had been journeying forty years!
BUTLER (his voice trembling).
Can e'er the emperor's majesty forgive me?
OCTAVIO.
More than forgive you. He would fain compensate
For that affront, and most unmerited grievance
Sustained by a deserving gallant veteran.
From his free impulse he confirms the present,
Which the duke made you for a wicked purpose.
The regiment, which you now command, is yours.
[BUTLER attempts to rise, sinks down again. He labors inwardly
with violent emotions; tries to speak and cannot. At length
he takes his sword from the belt, and offers it to PICCOLOMINI.
OCTAVIO.
What wish you? Recollect yourself, friend.
BUTLER.
Take it.
OCTAVIO.
But to what purpose? Calm yourself.
BUTLER.
O take it!
I am no longer worthy of this sword.
OCTAVIO.
Receive it then anew, from my hands--and
Wear it with honor for the right cause ever.
BUTLER.
Perjure myself to such a gracious sovereign?
OCTAVIO.
You'll make amends. Quick! break off from the duke!
BUTLER.
Break off from him.
OCTAVIO.
What now? Bethink thyself.
BUTLER (no longer governing his emotion).
Only break off from him? He dies! he dies!
OCTAVIO.
Come after me to Frauenberg, where now
All who are loyal are assembling under
Counts Altringer and Gallas. Many others
I've brought to a remembrance of their duty
This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen.
BUTLER (strides up and down in excessive agitation, then steps up to
OCTAVIO with resolved countenance).
Count Piccolomini! dare that man speak
Of honor to you, who once broke his troth.
OCTAVIO.
He who repents so deeply of it dares.
BUTLER.
Then leave me here upon my word of honor!
OCTAVIO.
What's your design?
BUTLER.
Leave me and my regiment.
OCTAVIO.
I have full confidence in you. But tell me
What are you brooding?
BUTLER.
That the deed will tell you.
Ask me no more at present. Trust me.
Ye may trust safely. By the living God,
Ye give him over, not to his good angel!
Farewell.
[Exit BUTLER.
SERVANT (enters with a billet).
A stranger left it, and is gone.
The prince-duke's horses wait for you below.
[Exit SERVANT.
OCTAVIO (reads).
"Be sure, make haste! Your faithful Isolani."
--O that I had but left this town behind me.
To split upon a rock so near the haven!
Away! This is no longer a safe place
For me! Where can my son be tarrying!
SCENE VII.
OCTAVIO and MAX. PICCOLOMINI.
MAX. enters almost in a state of derangement, from extreme
agitation; his eyes roll wildly, his walk is unsteady, and he
appears not to observe his father, who stands at a distance,
and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of compassion.
He paces with long strides through the chamber, then stands still
again, and at last throws himself into a chair, staring vacantly
at the object directly before him.
OCTAVIO (advances to him).
I am going off, my son.
[Receiving no answer, he takes his hands
My son, farewell.
MAX.
Farewell.
OCTAVIO.
Thou wilt soon follow me?
MAX.
I follow thee?
Thy way is crooked--it is not my way.
[OCTAVIO drops his hand and starts back.
Oh, hadst thou been but simple and sincere,
Ne'er had it come to this--all had stood otherwise.
He had not done that foul and horrible deed,
The virtuous had retained their influence over him
He had not fallen into the snares of villains.
Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice
Didst creep behind him lurking for thy prey!
Oh, unblest falsehood! Mother of all evil!
Thou misery-making demon, it is thou
That sinkest us in perdition. Simple truth,
Sustainer of the world, had saved us all!
Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee!
Wallenstein has deceived me--oh, most foully!
But thou has acted not much better.
OCTAVIO.
Son
My son, ah! I forgive thy agony!
MAX. (rises and contemplates his father with looks of suspicion).
Was't possible? hadst thou the heart, my father,
Hadst thou the heart to drive it to such lengths,
With cold premeditated purpose? Thou--
Hadst thou the heart to wish to see him guilty
Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall.
Octavio, 'twill not please me.
OCTAVIO.
God in heaven!
MAX.
Oh, woe is me! sure I have changed my nature.
How comes suspicion here--in the free soul?
Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all
Lied to me, all that I e'er loved or honored.
No, no! not all! She--she yet lives for me,
And she is true, and open as the heavens
Deceit is everywhere, hypocrisy,
Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury:
The single holy spot is our love,
The only unprofaned in human nature.
OCTAVIO.
Max.!--we will go together. 'Twill be better.
MAX.
What? ere I've taken a last parting leave,
The very last--no, never!
OCTAVIO.
Spare thyself
The pang of necessary separation.
Come with me! Come, my son!
[Attempts to take him with him.
MAX.
No! as sure as God lives, no!
OCTAVIO (more urgently).
Come with me, I command thee! I, thy father.
MAX.
Command me what is human. I stay here.
OCTAVIO.
Max.! in the emperor's name I bid thee come.
MAX.
No emperor has power to prescribe
Laws to the heart; and wouldst thou wish to rob me
Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me,
Her sympathy? Must then a cruel deed
Be done with cruelty? The unalterable
Shall I perform ignobly--steal away,
With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No!
She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish,
Hear the complaints of the disparted soul,
And weep tears o'er me. Oh! the human race
Have steely souls--but she is as an angel.
From the black deadly madness of despair
Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words
Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death!
OCTAVIO.
Thou wilt not tear thyself away; thou canst not.
Oh, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue.
MAX.
Squander not thou thy words in vain.
The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it.
OCTAVIO (trembling, and losing all self-command).
Max.! Max.! if that most damned thing could be,
If thou--my son--my own blood--(dare I think it?)
Do sell thyself to him, the infamous,
Do stamp this brand upon our noble house,
Then shall the world behold the horrible deed,
And in unnatural combat shall the steel
Of the son trickle with the father's blood.
MAX.
Oh, hadst thou always better thought of men,
Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion,
Unholy, miserable doubt! To him
Nothing on earth remains unwrenched and firm
Who has no faith.
OCTAVIO.
And if I trust thy heart,
Will it be always in thy power to follow it?
MAX.
The heart's voice thou hast not o'erpowered--as little
Will Wallenstein be able to o'erpower it.
OCTAVIO.
O, Max.! I see thee never more again!
MAX.
Unworthy of thee wilt thou never see me.
OCTAVIO.
I go to Frauenberg--the Pappenheimers
I leave thee here, the Lothrings too; Tsokana
And Tiefenbach remain here to protect thee.
They love thee, and are faithful to their oath,
And will far rather fall in gallant contest
Than leave their rightful leader and their honor.
MAX.
Rely on this, I either leave my life
In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen.
OCTAVIO.
Farewell, my son!
MAX.
Farewell!
OCTAVIO.
How! not one look
Of filial love? No grasp of the hand at parting?
It is a bloody war to which we are going,
And the event uncertain and in darkness.
So used we not to part--it was not so!
Is it then true? I have a son no longer?
[MAX. falls into his arms, they hold each other for a long time
in a speechless embrace, then go away at different sides.
(The curtain drops.)
ACT III.
SCENE I.
A chamber in the house of the Duchess of Friedland.
COUNTESS TERZKY, THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN (the two latter sit
at the same table at work).
COUNTESS (watching them from the opposite side).
So you have nothing to ask me--nothing?
I have been waiting for a word from you.
And could you then endure in all this time
Not once to speak his name?
[THEKLA remaining silent, the COUNTESS rises and advances to her.
Why, how comes this?
Perhaps I am already grown superfluous,
And other ways exist, besides through me
Confess it to me, Thekla: have you seen him?
THEKLA.
To-day and yesterday I have not seen him.
COUNTESS.
And not heard from him, either? Come, be open.
THEKLA.
No Syllable.
COUNTESS.
And still you are so calm?
THEKLA.
I am.
COUNTESS.
May it please you, leave us, Lady Neubrunn.
[Exit LADY NEUBRUNN.
SCENE II.
The COUNTESS, THEKLA.
COUNTESS.
It does not please me, princess, that he holds
Himself so still, exactly at this time.
THEKLA.
Exactly at this time?
COUNTESS.
He now knows all
'Twere now the moment to declare himself.
THEKLA.
If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly.
COUNTESS.
'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us.
Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart
Is no more in nonage: for you love,
And boldness dwells with love--that you have proved
Your nature moulds itself upon your father's
More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you
Hear what were too much for her fortitude.
THEKLA.
Enough: no further preface, I entreat you.
At once, out with it! Be it what it may,
It is not possible that it should torture me
More than this introduction. What have you
To say to me? Tell me the whole, and briefly!
COUNTESS.
You'll not be frightened----
THEKLA.
Name it, I entreat you.
COUNTESS.
Lies within my power to do your father
A weighty service----
THEKLA.
Lies within my power.
COUNTESS.
Max. Piccolomini loves you. You can link him
Indissolubly to your father.
THEKLA.
I?
What need of me for that? And is he not
Already linked to him?
COUNTESS.
He was.
THEKLA.
And wherefore
Should he not be so now--not be so always?
COUNTESS.
He cleaves to the emperor too.
THEKLA.
Not more than duty
And honor may demand of him.
COUNTESS.
We ask
Proofs of his love, and not proofs of his honor.
Duty and honor!
Those are ambiguous words with many meanings.
You should interpret them for him: his love
Should be the sole definer of his honor.
THEKLA.
How?
COUNTESS.
The emperor or you must he renounce.
THEKLA.
He will accompany my father gladly
In his retirement. From himself you heard,
How much he wished to lay aside the sword.
COUNTESS.
He must not lay the sword aside, we mean;
He must unsheath it in your father's cause.
THEKLA.
He'll spend with gladness and alacrity
His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause,
If shame or injury be intended him.
COUNTESS.
You will not understand me. Well, hear then:
Your father has fallen off from the emperor,
And is about to join the enemy
With the whole soldiery----
THEKLA.
Alas, my mother!
COUNTESS.
There needs a great example to draw on
The army after him. The Piccolomini
Possess the love and reverence of the troops;
They govern all opinions, and wherever
They lead the way, none hesitate to follow.
The son secures the father to our interests--
You've much in your hands at this moment.
THEKLA.
Ah,
My miserable mother! what a death-stroke
Awaits thee! No! she never will survive it.
COUNTESS.
She will accommodate her soul to that
Which is and must be. I do know your mother:
The far-off future weighs upon her heart
With torture of anxiety; but is it
Unalterably, actually present,
She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly.
THEKLA.
O my foreboding bosom! Even now,
E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror!
And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp;
I knew it well--no sooner had I entered,
An heavy ominous presentiment
Revealed to me that spirits of death were hovering
Over my happy fortune. But why, think I
First of myself? My mother! O my mother!
COUNTESS.
Calm yourself! Break not out in vain lamenting!
Preserve you for your father the firm friend,
And for yourself the lover, all will yet
Prove good and fortunate.
THEKLA.
Prove good! What good?
Must we not part; part ne'er to meet again?
COUNTESS.
He parts not from you! He cannot part from you.
THEKLA.
Alas, for his sore anguish! It will rend
His heart asunder.
COUNTESS.
If indeed he loves you.
His resolution will be speedily taken.
THEKLA.
His resolution will be speedily taken--
Oh, do not doubt of that! A resolution!
Does there remain one to be taken?
COUNTESS.
Hush!
Collect yourself! I hear your mother coming.
THERLA.
How shall I bear to see her?
COUNTESS.
Collect yourself.
SCENE III.
To them enter the DUCHESS.
DUCHESS (to the COUNTESS).
Who was here, sister? I heard some one talking,
And passionately, too.
COUNTESS.
Nay! there was no one.
DUCHESS.
I am growing so timorous, every trifling noise
Scatters my spirits, and announces to me
The footstep of some messenger of evil.
And you can tell me, sister, what the event is?
Will he agree to do the emperor's pleasure,
And send the horse regiments to the cardinal?
Tell me, has he dismissed von Questenberg
With a favorable answer?
COUNTESS.
No, he has not.
DUCHESS.
Alas! then all is lost! I see it coming,
The worst that can come! Yes, they will depose him;
The accursed business of the Regensburg diet
Will all be acted o'er again!
COUNTESS.
No! never!
Make your heart easy, sister, as to that.
[THEKLA, in extreme agitation, throws herself upon her mother,
and enfolds her in her arms, weeping.
DUCHESS.
Yes, my poor child!
Thou too hast lost a most affectionate godmother
In the empress. Oh, that stern, unbending man!
In this unhappy marriage what have I
Not suffered, not endured? For even as if
I had been linked on to some wheel of fire
That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onward,
I have passed a life of frights and horrors with him,
And ever to the brink of some abyss
With dizzy headlong violence he bears me.
Nay, do not weep, my child. Let not my sufferings
Presignify unhappiness to thee,
Nor blacken with their shade the fate that waits thee.
There lives no second Friedland; thou, my child,
Hast not to fear thy mother's destiny.
THEELA.
Oh, let us supplicate him, dearest mother!
Quick! quick! here's no abiding-place for us.
Here every coming hour broods into life
Some new affrightful monster.
DUCHESS.
Thou wilt share
An easier, calmer lot, my child! We, too,
I and thy father, witnessed happy days.
Still think I with delight of those first years,
When he was making progress with glad effort,
When his ambition was a genial fire,
Not that consuming flame which now it is.
The emperor loved him, trusted him; and all
He undertook could not but be successful.
But since that ill-starred day at Regensburg,
Which plunged him headlong from his dignity,
A gloomy, uncompanionable spirit,
Unsteady and suspicious, has possessed him.
His quiet mind forsook him, and no longer
Did he yield up himself in joy and faith
To his old luck and individual power;
But thenceforth turned his heart and best affections
All to those cloudy sciences which never
Have yet made happy him who followed them.
COUNTESS.
You see it, sister! as your eyes permit you,
But surely this is not the conversation
To pass the time in which we are waiting for him.
You know he will be soon here. Would you have him
Find her in this condition?
DUCHESS.
Come, my child!
Come, wipe away thy tears, and show thy father
A cheerful countenance. See, the tie-knot here
Is off; this hair must not hang so dishevelled.
Come, dearest! dry thy tears up. They deform
Thy gentle eye. Well, now--what was I saying?
Yes, in good truth, this Piccolomini
Is a most noble and deserving gentleman.
COUNTESS.
That is he, sister!
THEKLA (to the COUNTESS, with narks of great oppression of spirits).
Aunt, you will excuse me?
(Is going).
COUNTESS.
But, whither? See, your father comes!
THEKLA.
I cannot see him now.
COUNTESS.
Nay, but bethink you.
THEKLA.
Believe me, I cannot sustain his presence.
COUNTESS.
But he will miss you, will ask after you.
DUCHESS.
What, now? Why is she going?
COUNTESS.
She's not well.
DUCHESS (anxiously).
What ails, then, my beloved child?
[Both follow the PRINCESS, and endeavor to detain her. During
this WALLENSTEIN appears, engaged in conversation with ILLO.
SCENE IV.
WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA.
WALLENSTEIN.
All quiet in the camp?
ILLO.
It is all quiet.
WALLENSTEIN.
In a few hours may couriers come from Prague
With tidings that this capital is ours.
Then we may drop the mask, and to the troops
Assembled in this town make known the measure
And its result together. In such cases
Example does the whole. Whoever is foremost
Still leads the herd. An imitative creature
Is man. The troops at Prague conceive no other,
Than that the Pilsen army has gone through
The forms of homage to us; and in Pilsen
They shall swear fealty to us, because
The example has been given them by Prague.
Butler, you tell me, has declared himself?
ILLO.
At his own bidding, unsolicited,
He came to offer you himself and regiment.
WALLENSTEIN,
I find we must not give implicit credence
To every warning voice that makes itself
Be listened to in the heart. To hold us back,
Oft does the lying spirit counterfeit
The voice of truth and inward revelation,
Scattering false oracles. And thus have I
To entreat forgiveness for that secretly.
I've wronged this honorable gallant man,
This Butler: for a feeling of the which
I am not master (fear I would not call it),
Creeps o'er me instantly, with sense of shuddering,
At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion.
And this same man, against whom I am warned,
This honest man is he who reaches to me
The first pledge of my fortune.
ILLO.
And doubt not
That his example will win over to you
The best men in the army.
WALLENSTEIN.
Go and send
Isolani hither. Send him immediately.
He is under recent obligations to me:
With him will I commence the trial. Go.
[Exit ILLO.
WALLENSTEIN (turns himself round to the females).
Lo, there's the mother with the darling daughter.
For once we'll have an interval of rest--
Come! my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour
In the beloved circle of my family.
COUNTESS.
'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother.
WALLENSTEIN (to the COUNTESS, aside).
Can she sustain the news? Is she prepared?
COUNTESS.
Not yet.
WALLENSTEIN.
Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me,
For there is a good spirit on thy lips.
Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill;
She says a voice of melody dwells in thee,
Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice
Will drive away from me the evil demon
That beats his black wings close above my head.
DUCHESS.
Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father
Hear some small trial of thy skill.
THEKLA.
My mother
I----
DUCHESS.
Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer
Thy father.
THEKLA.
O my mother! I--I cannot.
COUNTESS.
How, what is that, niece?
THEKLA (to the COUNTESS).
O spare me--sing--now--in this sore anxiety,
Of the overburdened soul--to sing to him
Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong
Into her grave.
DUCHESS.
How, Thekla! Humorsome!
What! shall thy father have expressed a wish
In vain?
COUNTESS.
Here is the lute.
THEKLA.
My God! how can I----
[The orchestra plays. During the ritornello THEKLA expresses in her
gestures and countenance the struggle of her feelings; and at the
moment that she should begin to sing, contracts herself together, as
one shuddering, throws the instrument down, and retires abruptly.
DUCHESS.
My child! Oh, she is ill----
WALLENSTEIN.
What ails the maiden?
Say, is she often so?
COUNTESS.
Since then herself
Has now betrayed it, I too must no longer
Conceal it.
WALLENSTEIN.
What?
COUNTESS.
She loves him!
WALLENSTEIN.
Loves him? Whom?
COUNTESS.
Max. does she love! Max. Piccolomini!
Hast thou never noticed it? Nor yet my sister?
DUCHESS.
Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart?
God's blessing on thee,--my sweet child! Thou needest
Never take shame upon thee for thy choice.
COUNTESS.
This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it
To thine own self. Thou shouldst have chosen another
To have attended her.
WALLENSTEIN.
And does he know it?
COUNTESS.
Yes, and he hopes to win her.
WALLENSTEIN.
Hopes to win her!
Is the boy mad?
COUNTESS.
Well--hear it from themselves.
WALLENSTEIN.
He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland's daughter!
Ay? The thought pleases me.
The young man has no groveling spirit.
COUNTESS.
Since
Such and such constant favor you have shown him----
WALLENSTEIN.
He chooses finally to be my heir.
And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honor him.
But must he therefore be my daughter's husband?
Is it daughters only? Is it only children
That we must show our favor by?
DUCHESS.
His noble disposition and his manners----
WALLENSTEIN.
Win him my heart, but not my daughter.
DUCHESS.
Then
His rank, his ancestors----
WALLENSTEIN.
Ancestors! What?
He is a subject, and my son-in-law
I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe.
DUCHESS
O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high
Lest we should fall too low.
WALLENSTEIN.
What! have I paid
A price so heavy to ascend this eminence,
And jut out high above the common herd,
Only to close the mighty part I play
In life's great drama with a common kinsman?
Have I for this----
[Stops suddenly, repressing himself.
She is the only thing
That will remain behind of me on earth;
And I will see a crown around her head,
Or die in the attempt to place it there.
I hazard all--all! and for this alone,
To lift her into greatness.
Yea, in this moment, in the which we are speaking
[He recollects himself.
And I must now, like a soft-hearted father,
Couple together in good peasant fashion
The pair that chance to suit each other's liking--
And I must do it now, even now, when I
Am stretching out the wreath that is to twine
My full accomplished work--no! she is the jewel,
Which I have treasured long, my last, my noblest,
And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me
For less than a king's sceptre.
DUCHESS.
O my husband!
You're ever building, building to the clouds,
Still building higher, and still higher building,
And ne'er reflect, that the poor narrow basis
Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column.
WALLENSTEIN (to the COUNTESS).
Have you announced the place of residence
Which I have destined for her?
COUNTESS.
No! not yet,
'Twere better you yourself disclosed it to her.
DUCHESS.
How? Do we not return to Carinthia then?
WALLENSTEIN.
No.
DUCHESS.
And to no other of your lands or seats?
WALLENSTEIN.
You would not be secure there.
DUCHESS.
Not secure.
In the emperor's realms, beneath the emperor's
Protection?
WALLENSTEIN.
Friedland's wife may be permitted
No longer to hope that.
DUCHESS.
O God in heaven!
And have you brought it even to this!
WALLENSTEIN.
In Holland
You'll find protection.
DUCHESS
In a Lutheran country?
What? And you send us into Lutheran countries?
WALLENSTEIN.
Duke Franz of Lauenburg conducts you thither.
DUCHESS.
Duke Franz of Lauenburg?
The ally of Sweden, the emperor's enemy.
WALLENSTEIN.
The emperor's enemies are mine no longer.
DUCHESS (casting a look of terror on the DUKE and the COUNTESS).
Is it then true? It is. You are degraded
Deposed from the command? O God in heaven!
COUNTESS (aside to the DUKE).
Leave her in this belief. Thou seest she cannot
Support the real truth.
SCENE V.
To them enter COUNT TERZKY.
COUNTESS.
Terzky!
What ails him? What an image of affright!
He looks as he had seen a ghost.
TERZKY (leading WALLENSTEIN aside).
Is it thy command that all the Croats----
WALLENSTEIN.
Mine!
TERZKY.
We are betrayed.
WALLENSTEIN.
What?
TERZKY.
They are off! This night
The Jaegers likewise--all the villages
In the whole round are empty.
WALLENSTEIN.
Isolani!
TERZKY.
Him thou hast sent away. Yes, surely.
WALLENSTEIN.
I?
TERZKY.
No? Hast thou not sent him off? Nor Deodati?
They are vanished, both of them.
SCENE VI.
To them enter ILLO.
ILLO.
Has Terzky told thee?
TERZKY.
He knows all.
ILLO.
And likewise
That Esterhatzy, Goetz, Maradas, Kaunitz,
Kolatto, Palfi, have forsaken thee.
TERZKY.
Damnation!
WALLENSTEIN (winks at them).
Hush!
COUNTESS (who has been watching them anxiously from the distance and
now advances to them).
Terzky! Heaven! What is it? What has happened?
WALLENSTEIN (scarcely suppressing his emotions).
Nothing! let us be gone!
TERZKY (following him).
Theresa, it is nothing.
COUNTESS (holding him back).
Nothing? Do I not see that all the life-blood
Has left your cheeks--look you not like a ghost?
That even my brother but affects a calmness?
PAGE (enters).
An aide-de-camp inquires for the Count Terzky.
[TERZKY follows the PAGE.
WALLENSTEIN.
Go, hear his business.
[To ILLO.
This could not have happened
So unsuspected without mutiny.
Who was on guard at the gates?
ILLO.
'Twas Tiefenbach.
WALLENSTEIN.
Let Tiefenbach leave guard without delay,
And Terzky's grenadiers relieve him.
[ILLO is going.
Stop!
Hast thou heard aught of Butler?
ILLO.
Him I met
He will be here himself immediately.
Butler remains unshaken,
[ILLO exit. WALLENSTEIN is following him.
COUNTESS.
Let him not leave thee, sister! go, detain him!
There's some misfortune.
DUCHESS (clinging to him).
Gracious Heaven! What is it?
WALLENSTEIN.
Be tranquil! leave me, sister! dearest wife!
We are in camp, and this is naught unusual;
Here storm and sunshine follow one another
With rapid interchanges. These fierce spirits
Champ the curb angrily, and never yet
Did quiet bless the temples of the leader;
If I am to stay go you. The plaints of women
Ill suit the scene where men must act.
[He is going: TERZKY returns.
TERZKY.
Remain here. From this window must we see it.
WALLENSTEIN (to the COUNTESS).
Sister, retire!
COUNTESS.
No--never!
WALLENSTEIN.
'Tis my will.
TERZKY (leads the COUNTESS aside, and drawing her attention
to the DUCHESS).
Theresa!
DUCHESS.
Sister, come! since he commands it.
SCENE VII.
WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY.
WALLENSTEIN (stepping to the window).
What now, then?
TERZKY.
There are strange movements among all the troops,
And no one knows the cause. Mysteriously,
With gloomy silentness, the several corps
Marshal themselves, each under its own banners;
Tiefenbach's corps make threatening movements; only
The Pappenheimers still remain aloof
In their own quarters and let no one enter.
WALLENSTEIN.
Does Piccolomini appear among them?
TERZKY.
We are seeking him: he is nowhere to be met with.
WALLENSTEIN.
What did the aide-de-camp deliver to you?
TERZKY.
My regiments had despatched him; yet once more
They swear fidelity to thee, and wait
The shout for onset, all prepared, and eager.
WALLENSTEIN.
But whence arose this larum in the camp?
It should have been kept secret from the army
Till fortune had decided for us at Prague.
TERZKY.
Oh, that thou hadst believed me! Yester-evening
Did we conjure thee not to let that skulker,
That fox, Octavio, pass the gates of Pilsen.
Thou gavest him thy own horses to flee from thee.
WALLENSTEIN.
The old tune still! Now, once for all, no more
Of this suspicion--it is doting folly.
TERZKY.
Thou didst confide in Isolani too;
And lo! he was the first that did desert thee.
WALLENSTEIN.
It was but yesterday I rescued him
From abject wretchedness. Let that go by;
I never reckoned yet on gratitude.
And wherein doth he wrong in going from me?
He follows still the god whom all his life
He has worshipped at the gaming-table. With
My fortune and my seeming destiny
He made the bond and broke it, not with me.
I am but the ship in which his hopes were stowed,
And with the which, well-pleased and confident,
He traversed the open sea; now he beholds it
In eminent jeopardy among the coast-rocks,
And hurries to preserve his wares. As light
As the free bird from the hospitable twig
Where it had nested he flies off from me:
No human tie is snapped betwixt us two.
Yea, he deserves to find himself deceived
Who seeks a heart in the unthinking man.
Like shadows on a stream, the forms of life
Impress their characters on the smooth forehead,
Naught sinks into the bosom's silent depth:
Quick sensibility of pain and pleasure
Moves the light fluids lightly; but no soul
Warmeth the inner frame.
TERZKY.
Yet, would I rather
Trust the smooth brow than that deep furrowed one.
SCENE VIII.
WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, ILLO.
ILLO (who enters agitated with rage).
Treason and mutiny!
TERZKY.
And what further now?
ILLO.
Tiefenbach's soldiers, when I gave the orders.
To go off guard--mutinous villains!
TERZKY.
Well!
WALLENSTEIN.
What followed?
ILLO.
They refused obedience to them.
TERZKY.
Fire on them instantly! Give out the order.
WALLENSTEIN.
Gently! what cause did they assign?
ILLO.
No other,
They said, had right to issue orders but
Lieutenant-General Piccolomini.
WALLENSTEIN (in a convulsion of agony).
What? How is that?
ILLO.
He takes that office on him by commission,
Under sign-manual from the emperor.
TERZKY.
From the emperor--hearest thou, duke?
ILLO.
At his incitement
The generals made that stealthy flight----
TERZKY.
Duke, hearest thou?
ILLO.
Caraffa too, and Montecuculi,
Are missing, with six other generals,
All whom he had induced to follow him.
This plot he has long had in writing by him
From the emperor; but 'twas finally concluded,
With all the detail of the operation,
Some days ago with the Envoy Questenberg.
[WALLENSTEIN sinks down into a chair and covers his face.
TERZKY.
Oh, hadst thou but believed me!
SCENE IX.
To them enter the COUNTESS.
COUNTESS.
This suspense,
This horrid fear--I can no longer bear it.
For heaven's sake tell me what has taken place?
ILLO.
The regiments are falling off from us.
TERZKY.
Octavio Piccolomini is a traitor.
COUNTESS.
O my foreboding!
[Rushes out of the room.
TERZKY.
Hadst thou but believed me!
Now seest thou how the stars have lied to thee.
WALLENSTEIN.
The stars lie not; but we have here a work
Wrought counter to the stars and destiny.
The science is still honest: this false heart
Forces a lie on the truth-telling heaven,
On a divine law divination rests;
Where nature deviates from that law, and stumbles
Out of her limits, there all science errs.
True I did not suspect! Were it superstition
Never by such suspicion to have affronted
The human form, oh, may the time ne'er come
In which I shame me of the infirmity.
The wildest savage drinks not with the victim,
Into whose breast he means to plunge the sword.
This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed
'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine;
A bad heart triumphed o'er an honest one.
No shield received the assassin stroke; thou plungest
Thy weapon on an unprotected breast--
Against such weapons I am but a child.
SCENE X.
To these enter BUTLER.
TERZKY (meeting him).
Oh, look there, Butler! Here we've still a friend!
WALLENSTEIN (meets him with outspread arms and embraces him with warmth).
Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun
Looks out upon us more revivingly,
In the earliest month of spring,
Than a friend's countenance in such an hour.
BUTLER.
My general; I come----
WALLENSTEIN (leaning on BUTLER'S shoulder).
Knowest thou already
That old man has betrayed me to the emperor.
What sayest thou? Thirty years have we together
Lived out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship.
We have slept in one camp-bed, drank from one glass,
One morsel shared! I leaned myself on him,
As now I lean me on thy faithful shoulder,
And now in the very moment when, all love,
All confidence, my bosom beat to his
He sees and takes the advantage, stabs the knife
Slowly into my heart.
[He hides his face on BUTLER's breast.
BUTLER.
Forget the false one.
What is your present purpose?
WALLENSTEIN.
Well remembered!
Courage, my soul! I am still rich in friends,
Still loved by destiny; for in the moment
That it unmasks the plotting hypocrite
It sends and proves to me one faithful heart.
Of the hypocrite no more! Think not his loss
Was that which struck the pang: Oh, no! his treason
Is that which strikes the pang! No more of him!
Dear to my heart, and honored were they both,
And the young man--yes--he did truly love me,
He--he--has not deceived me. But enough,
Enough of this--swift counsel now beseems us.
The courier, whom Count Kinsky sent from Prague,
I expect him every moment: and whatever
He may bring with him we must take good care
To keep it from the mutineers. Quick then!
Despatch some messenger you can rely on
To meet him, and conduct him to me.
[ILLO is going.
BUTLER (detaining him).
My general, whom expect you then?
WALLENSTEIN.
The courier
Who brings me word of the event at Prague.
BUTLER (hesitating).
Hem!
WALLENSTEIN.
And what now?
BUTLER.
You do not know it?
WALLENSTEIN.
Well?
BUTLER.
From what that larum in the camp arose?
WALLENSTEIN.
From what?
BUTLER.
That courier----
WALLENSTEIN (with eager expectation).
Well?
BUTLER.
Is already here.
TERZKY and ILLO (at the same time).
Already here?
WALLENSTEIEN.
My courier?
BUTLER.
For some hours.
WALLENSTEIN.
And I not know it?
BUTLER.
The sentinels detain him
In custody.
ILLO (stamping with his foot).
Damnation!
BUTLER.
And his letter
Was broken open, and is circulated
Through the whole camp.
WALLENSTEIN.
You know what it contains?
BUTLER.
Question me not.
TERZKY.
Illo! Alas for us.
WALLENSTEIN.
Hide nothing from me--I can bear the worst.
Prague then is lost. It is. Confess it freely.
BUTLER.
Yes! Prague is lost. And all the several regiments
At Budweiss, Tabor, Braunau, Koenigingratz,
At Brunn, and Znaym, have forsaken you,
And taken the oaths of fealty anew
To the emperor. Yourself, with Kinsky, Terzky,
And Illo have been sentenced.
[TERZKY and ILLO express alarm and fury. WALLENSTEIN remains
firm and collected.
WALLENSTEIN.
'Tis decided! 'Tis well! I have received a sudden cure
From all the pangs of doubt: with steady stream
Once more my life-blood flows! My soul's secure!
In the night only Friedland stars can beam.
Lingering irresolute, with fitful fears
I drew the sword--'twas with an inward strife,
While yet the choice was mine. The murderous knife
Is lifted for my heart! Doubt disappears!
I fight now for my head and for my life.
[Exit WALLENSTEIN; the others follow him.
SCENE XI.
COUNTESS TERZKY (enters from a side room).
I can endure no longer. No!
[Looks around her.
Where are they!
No one is here. They leave me all alone,
Alone in this sore anguish of suspense.
And I must wear the outward show of calmness
Before my sister, and shut in within me
The pangs and agonies of my crowded bosom.
It is not to be borne. If all should fail;
If--if he must go over to the Swedes,
An empty-handed fugitive, and not
As an ally, a covenanted equal,
A proud commander with his army following,
If we must wander on from land to land,
Like the Count Palatine, of fallen greatness
An ignominious monument. But no!
That day I will not see! And could himself
Endure to sink so low, I would not bear
To see him so low sunken.
SCENE XII.
COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA.
THEKLA (endeavoring to hold back the DUCHESS)
Dear mother, do stay here!
DUCHESS.
No! Here is yet
Some frightful mystery that is hidden from me.
Why does my sister shun me? Don't I see her
Full of suspense and anguish roam about
From room to room? Art thou not full of terror?
And what import these silent nods and gestures
Which stealthwise thou exchangest with her?
THEKLA.
Nothing
Nothing, dear mother!
DUCHESS (to the COUNTESS).
Sister, I will know.
COUNTESS.
What boots it now to hide it from her? Sooner
Or later she must learn to hear and bear it.
'Tis not the time now to indulge infirmity;
Courage beseems us now, a heart collect,
And exercise and previous discipline
Of fortitude. One word, and over with it!
Sister, you are deluded. You believe
The duke has been deposed--the duke is not
Deposed--he is----
THEKLA (going to the COUNTESS),
What? do you wish to kill her?
COUNTESS.
The duke is----
THEKLA (throwing her arms round her mother).
Oh, stand firm! stand firm, my mother!
COUNTESS.
Revolted is the duke; he is preparing
To join the enemy; the army leave him,
And all has failed.
SCENE XIII.
A spacious room in the Duke of Friedland's palace.
WALLENSTEIN (in armor).
Thou hast gained thy point, Octavio! Once more am I
Almost as friendless as at Regensburg.
There I had nothing left me but myself;
But what one man can do you have now experience.
The twigs have you hewed off, and here I stand
A leafless trunk. But in the sap within
Lives the creating power, and a new world
May sprout forth from it. Once already have I
Proved myself worth an army to you--I alone!
Before the Swedish strength your troops had melted;
Beside the Lech sank Tilly, your last hope;
Into Bavaria, like a winter torrent,
Did that Gustavus pour, and at Vienna
In his own palace did the emperor tremble.
Soldiers were scarce, for still the multitude
Follow the luck: all eyes were turned on me,
Their helper in distress; the emperor's pride
Bowed itself down before the man he had injured.
'Twas I must rise, and with creative word
Assemble forces in the desolate camps.
I did it. Like a god of war my name
Went through the world. The drum was beat; and, to
The plough, the workshop is forsaken, all
Swarm to the old familiar long loved banners;
And as the wood-choir rich in melody
Assemble quick around the bird of wonder,
When first his throat swells with his magic song,
So did the warlike youth of Germany
Crowd in around the image of my eagle.
I feel myself the being that I was.
It is the soul that builds itself a body,
And Friedland's camp will not remain unfilled.
Lead then your thousands out to meet me--true!
They are accustomed under me to conquer,
But not against me. If the head and limbs
Separate from each other, 'twill be soon
Made manifest in which the soul abode.
