WALLENSTEIN, GORDON.WALLENSTEIN.All quiet in the town?GORDON.The town is quiet.WALLENSTEIN.I hear a boisterous music! and the castleIs lighted up. Who are the revellers?GORDON.There is a banquet given at the castleTo the Count Terzky and Field-Marshal Illo.WALLENSTEIN.In honor of the victory—this tribeCan show 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.For all must cheat me, or a face like this[Fixing his eyes 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.He hung it round me in the war of Friule,He being then archduke; and I have worn itTill now from habit—From superstition, if you will. Belike,It was to be a talisman to me;And while I wore it on my neck in faith,It was to chain to me all my life-longThe volatile fortune, whose first pledge it was.Well, be it so! Henceforward a new fortuneMust spring up for me; for the potencyOf this charm is dissolved.[GROOM OF THE CHAMBER retires with the vestments. WALLENSTEINrises, takes a stride across the room, and stands at last beforeGORDON in a posture of meditation.How the old time returns upon me! IBehold myself once more at Burgau, whereWe two were pages of the court together.We oftentimes disputed: thy intentionWas ever good; but thou were wont to playThe moralist and preacher, and wouldst 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.Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friendTo thy own self. See, it has made thee earlyA superannuated man, and (butThat my munificent stars will intervene)Would let thee in some miserable cornerGo out like an untended lamp.GORDON.My princeWith light heart the poor fisher moors his boat,And watches from the shore the lofty shipStranded amid the storm.WALLENSTEIN.Art thou alreadyIn harbor, then, old man? Well! I am not.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 yearsHave passed by powerless o'er my unblanched hair.[He moves with long strides across the saloon, and remainson the opposite side over against GORDON.Who now persists in calling fortune false?To me she has proved faithful; with fond loveTook me from out the common ranks of men,And like a mother goddess, with strong armCarried me swiftly up the steps of life.Nothing is common in my destiny,Nor in the furrows of my hand. Who daresInterpret then my life for me as 'twereOne of the undistinguishable many?True, in this present moment I appearFallen 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,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 fortuneTo gather hope: for hope is the companionGiven 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 oldWas wont to preach, now once more preaching;I know well, that all sublunary thingsAre still the vassals of vicissitude.The unpropitious gods demand their tribute.This long ago the ancient pagans knewAnd therefore of their own accord they offeredTo themselves injuries, so to atoneThe jealousy of their divinitiesAnd human sacrifices bled to Typhon.[After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner.I too have sacrificed to him—for meThere fell the dearest friend, and through my faultHe fell! No joy from favorable fortuneCan overweigh the anguish of this stroke.The envy of my destiny is glutted:Life pays for life. On his pure head the lightningWas drawn off which would else have shattered me.
To these enter SENI.WALLENSTEIN.Is not that Seni! and beside himself,If one can trust his looks? What brings thee hitherAt 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 nowIs in thy thoughts?SENI (with louder voice).Trust not thy person to the Swedes.WALLENSTEIN.What is it, then?SENI (still more urgently).Oh, wait not the arrival of these Swedes!An evil near at hand is threatening theeFrom false friends. All the signs stand full of horror!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;Read it thyself, that ruin threatens theeFrom false friends.WALLENSTEIN.From the falseness of my friendsHas risen the whole of my unprosperous fortunes.The warning should have come before! At presentI need no revelation from the starsTo 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 behindThe radiance of thy planet. Oh, be warned!Deliver not up thyself to these heathens,To wage a war against our holy church.WALLENSTEIN (laughing gently).The oracle rails that way! Yes, yes! NowI recollect. This junction with the SwedesDid never please thee—lay thyself to sleep,Baptista! Signs like these I do not fear.GORDON (who during the whole of this dialogue has shown marksof extreme agitation, and now turns to WALLENSTEIN).My duke and general! May I dare presume?WALLENSTEIN.Speak freely.GORDON.What if 'twere no mere creationOf fear, if God's high providence vouchsafedTo interpose its aid for your deliverance,And made that mouth its organ?WALLENSTEIN.Ye're both feverish!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 wingedThe ruin that is flying to your temples?[Flings himself at his feet.There is yet time, my prince.SENI.Oh 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,With his whole force before these ramparts, soonerThan weary down the valor of our spirit.He shall experience what a band of heroes,Inspirited by an heroic leader,Is able to perform. And if indeedIt be thy serious wish to make amendFor that which thou hast done amiss,—this, thisWill touch and reconcile the emperor,Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy;And Friedland, who returns repentant to him,Will stand yet higher in his emperor's favorThen e'er he stood when he had never fallen.WALLENSTEIN (contemplates him with surprise, remains silent a while,betraying strong emotion).Gordon—your zeal and fervor lead you far.Well, well—an old friend has a privilege.Blood, Gordon, has been flowing. Never, neverCan 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 heartSpoken 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 notIs now an idle question. All too seriouslyHas it begun to end in nothing, Gordon!Let it then have its course.[Stepping to the window.All dark and silent—at the castle tooAll 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 visibleexpressions of the deepest interest, advances in extreme agitationand throws himself at the DUKE's feet.And thou too! But I know why thou dost wishMy reconcilement with the emperor.Poor man! he hath a small estate in Carinthia,And fears it will be forfeited becauseHe's in my service. Am I then so poorThat I no longer can indemnifyMy servants? Well! to no one I employMeans of compulsion. If 'tis thy beliefThat fortune has fled from me, go! forsake me.This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me,And then go over to the emperor.Gordon, good-night! I think to make a longSleep of it: for the struggle and the turmoilOf this last day or two was great. May't please youTake care that they awake me not too early.[Exit WALLENSTEIN, the GROOM OF THE CHAMBER lighting him. SENIfollows, GORDON remains on the darkened stage, following the DUKEwith his eye, till he disappears at the further end of the gallery:then by his gestures the old man expresses the depth of his anguish,and stands leaning against a pillar.
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?BUTLER (appears, but scarcely on the stage).A light gleams hither from the corridor.It leads directly to the duke's bed-chamber.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 headAll the dread consequences.BUTLER (stepping forward).Hark! Who speaks there?GORDON.'Tis better, I resign it to the handsOf Providence. For what am I, that IShould take upon myself so great a deed?I have not murdered him, if he be murdered;But all his rescue were my act and deed;Mine—and whatever be the consequencesI 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?GORDON.Your hand bound up and in a scarf?BUTLER.'Tis wounded.That Illo fought as he were frantic, tillAt last we threw him on the ground.GORDON (shuddering).Both dead?BUTLER.Is he in bed?GORDON.Ah, Butler!BUTLER.Is he? speak.GORDON.He shall not perish! Not through you! The heavenRefuses your arm. See—'tis wounded!BUTLER.There is no need of my arm.GORDON.The most guiltyHave perished, and enough is given to justice.[The GROOM OF THE CHAMBER advances from the gallery with his fingeron his mouth commanding silence.GORDON.He sleeps! Oh, murder not the holy sleep!BUTLER.No! he shall die awake.[Is going.GORDON.His heart still cleavesTo earthly things: he's not prepared to stepInto the presence of his God!BUTLER (going).God's merciful!GORDON (holds him).Grant him but this night's respite.BUTLER (hurrying of).The next momentMay ruin all.GORDON (holds him still).One hour!BUTLER.Unhold me! WhatCan that short respite profit him?GORDON.Oh, timeWorks miracles. In one hour many thousandsOf grains of sand run out; and quick as theyThought follows thought within the human soul.Only one hour! Your heart may change its purpose,His heart may change its purpose—some new tidingsMay come; some fortunate event, decisive,May fall from heaven and rescue him. Oh, whatMay not one hour achieve!BUTLER.You but remind meHow precious every minute is![He stamps on the floor.
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 willNot 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!GORDON (rushes out).Oh, 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 atthe entrance of the gallery).Jesus Maria!BUTLER.Burst the doors open.[They rush over the body into the gallery—two doors are heard tocrash one after the other. Voices, deadened by the distance—clashof arms—then all at once a profound silence:
COUNTESS TERZKY (with a light).Her bedchamber is empty; she herselfIs nowhere to be found! The Neubrunn too,Who watched by her, is missing. If she shouldBe flown—but whither flown? We must call upEvery soul in the house. How will the dukeBear up against these worst bad tidings? Oh,If that my husband now were but returnedHome from the banquet! Hark! I wonder whetherThe duke is still awake! I thought I heardVoices and tread of feet here! I will goAnd listen at the door. Hark! what is that?'Tis hastening up the steps!
COUNTESS, GORDON.GORDON (rushes in out of breath)'Tis a mistake!'Tis not the Swedes; ye must proceed no further—Butler! Oh, God! where is he?[Observing the COUNTESS.Countess! Say——COUNTESS.You're come then from the castle? Where's my husband?GORDON (in an agony of affright).Your husband! Ask not! To the duke——COUNTESS.Not tillYou have discovered to me——GORDON.On this momentDoes 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 isThe imperialists' lieutenant-generalHas sent me hither—will be here himselfInstantly. You must not proceed.BUTLER.He comesToo late.[GORDON dashes himself against the wall.GORDON.Oh, God of mercy!COUNTESS.What, too late?Who will be here himself? OctavioIn Egra? Treason! Treason! Where's the duke?[She rushes to the gallery.
Servants run across the stage full of terror. The whole scenemust be spoken entirely without pauses.SENI (from the gallery).Oh, bloody, frightful deed!COUNTESS.What is it, Seni?PAGE (from the gallery).Oh, piteous sight![Other servants hasten in with torches.COUNTESS.What is it? For God's sake!SENI.And do you ask?Within the duke lies murdered—and your husbandAssassinated at the castle.[The COUNTESS stands motionless.FEMALE SERVANT (rushing across the stage).Help! help! the duchess!BURGOMASTER (enters).What mean these confusedLoud cries that wake the sleepers of this house?GORDON.Your house is cursed to all eternity.In your house doth the duke lie murdered!BURGOMASTER (rushing out)Heaven forbid!FIRST SERVANT.Fly! fly! they murder us all!SECOND SERVANT (carrying silver-plate).That way! the lowerPassages are blocked up.VOICE (from behind the scene).Make room for the lieutenant-general![At these words the COUNTESS starts from her stupor, collectsherself, and retires suddenly.VOICE (from behind the scene).Keep back the people! Guard the door!
To these enter OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI with all his train. At the sametime DEVEREUX and MACDONALD enter from out the corridor with theHalberdiers. WALLENSTEIN's dead body is carried over the back partof the stage, wrapped in a piece of crimson tapestry.OCTAVIO (entering abruptly).It must not be! It is not possible!Butler! Gordon!I'll not believe it. Say no![GORDON, without answering, points with his hand to the body ofWALLENSTEIN as it is carried over the back of the stage. OCTAVIOlooks that way, and stands overpowered with horror.DEVEREUX (to BUTLER).Here is the golden fleece—the duke's sword——MACDONALD.Is it your order——BUTLER (pointing to OCTAVIO).Here stands he who nowHath the sole power to issue orders.[DEVEREUX and MACDONALD retire with marks of obeisance. One dropsaway after the other, till only BUTLER, OCTAVIO, and GORDON remainon the stage.OCTAVIO (turning to BUTLER).Was that my purpose, Butler, when we parted?Oh, God of Justice!To thee I lift my hand! I am not guiltyOf this foul deed.BUTLER.Your hand is pure. You haveAvailed yourself of mine.OCTAVIO.Merciless man!Thus to abuse the orders of thy lord—And stain thy emperor's holy name with murder,With bloody, most accursed assassination!BUTLER (calmly).I've but fulfilled the emperor's own sentence.OCTAVIO.Oh, curse of kings,Infusing a dread life into their words,And linking to the sudden, transient thoughtThe unchanging, irrevocable deed.Was there necessity for such an eagerDespatch? Couldst thou not grant the mercifulA time for mercy? Time is man's good angel.To leave no interval between the sentence,And the fulfilment of it, doth beseemGod only, the immutable!BUTLER.For whatRail you against me? What is my offence?The empire from a fearful enemyHave I delivered, and expect reward.The single difference betwixt you and meIs this: you placed the arrow in the bow;I pulled the string. You sowed blood, and yet standAstonished that blood is come up. I alwaysKnew what I did, and therefore no resultHath power to frighten or surprise my spirit.Have you aught else to order; for this instantI make my best speed to Vienna; placeMy bleeding sword before my emperor's throne,And hope to gain the applause which undelayingAnd punctual obedience may demandFrom a just judge.[Exit BUTLER.
To these enter the COUNTESS TERZKY, pale and disordered.Her utterance is slow and feeble, and unimpassioned.OCTAVIO (meeting her).Oh, Countess Terzky! These are the resultsOf luckless, unblest deeds.COUNTESS.They are the fruitsOf your contrivances. The duke is dead,My husband too is dead, the duchess strugglesIn the pangs of death, my niece has disappeared;This house of splendor, and of princely glory,Doth now stand desolated: the affrighted servantsRush forth through all its doors. I am the lastTherein; I shut it up, and here deliverThe keys.OCTAVIO (with a deep anguish).Oh, countess! my house, too, is desolate.COUNTESS.Who next is to be murdered? Who is nextTo be maltreated? Lo! the duke is dead.The emperor's vengeance may be pacified!Spare the old servants; let not their fidelityBe imputed to the faithful as a crime—The evil destiny surprised my brotherToo suddenly: he could not think on them.OCTAVIO.Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment!The emperor is appeased; the heavy faultHath heavily been expiated—nothingDescended from the father to the daughter,Except his glory and his services.The empress honors your adversity,Takes part in your afflictions, opens to youHer motherly arms. Therefore no further fears.Yield yourself up in hope and confidenceTo the imperial grace!COUNTESS (with her eye raised to heaven)To the grace and mercy of a greater masterDo I yield up myself. Where shall the bodyOf the duke have its place of final rest?In the Chartreuse, which he himself did foundAt Gitschin, rests the Countess Wallenstein;And by her side, to whom he was indebtedFor his first fortunes, gratefully he wishedHe might sometime repose in death! Oh, let himBe buried there. And likewise, for my husband'sRemains I ask the like grace. The emperorIs now the proprietor of all our castles;This sure may well be granted us—one sepulchreBeside the sepulchres of our forefathers!OCTAVIO.Countess, you tremble, you turn pale!COUNTESS (reassembles all her powers, and speaks with energy anddignity).You thinkMore worthily of me than to believeI would survive the downfall of my house.We did not hold ourselves too mean to graspAfter a monarch's crown—the crown did fateDeny, but not the feeling and the spiritThat to the crown belong! We deem aCourageous death more worthy of our free stationThan a dishonored life. I have taken poison.OCTAVIO.Help! Help! Support her!COUNTESS.Nay, it is too late.In a few moments is my fate accomplished.[Exit COUNTESS.GORDON.Oh, house of death and horrors![An OFFICER enters, and brings a letter with the great seal.GORDON steps forward and meets him.What is thisIt is the imperial seal.[He reads the address, and delivers the letter to OCTAVIO witha look of reproach, and with an emphasis on the word.To the Prince Piccolomini.[OCTAVIO, with his whole frame expressive of sudden anguish,raises his eyes to heaven.The Curtain drops.
1A great stone near Luetzen, since called the Swede's Stone, the bodyof their great king having been found at the foot of it, after thebattle in which he lost his life.2Could I have hazarded such a Germanism as the use of the wordafterworld for posterity,—"Es spreche Welt und Nachwelt meinenNamen"—might have been rendered with more literal fidelity: Letworld and afterworld speak out my name, etc.3I have not ventured to affront the fastidious delicacy of our agewith a literal translation of this line,werthDie Eingeweide schaudernd aufzuregen.4Anspessade, in German, Gefreiter, a soldier inferior to a corporal,but above the sentinels. The German name implies that he is exemptfrom mounting guard.5I have here ventured to omit a considerable number of lines. I fearthat I should not have done amiss had I taken this liberty morefrequently. It is, however, incumbent on me to give the original,with a literal translation."Weh denen, die auf Dich vertraun, an DichDie sichre Huette ihres Glueckes lehnen,Gelockt von deiner geistlichen Gestalt.Schnell unverhofft, bei naechtlich stiller Weile,Gaehrts in dem tueckschen Feuerschlunde, ladet,Sich aus mit tobender Gewalt, und wegTreibt ueber alle Pflanzungen der MenschenDer wilde Strom in grausender Zerstoerung."WALLENSTEIN."Du schilderst deines Vaters Herz. Wie Du'sBeschreibst, so ist's in seinem Eingeweide,In dieser schwarzen Heuchlers Brust gestaltet.Oh, mich hat Hoellenkunst getaeuscht! Mir sandteDer Abgrund den verflecktesten der Geister,Den Luegenkundigsten herauf, und stellt' ihnAls Freund an meiner Seite. Wer vermagDer Hoelle Macht zu widersthn! Ich zogDen Basilisken auf an meinem Busen,Mit meinem Herzblut naehrt' ich ihn, er sogSich schwelgend voll an meiner Liebe Bruesten,Ich hatte nimmer Arges gegen ihn,Weit offen liess ich des Gedankens Thore,Und warf die Schluessel weiser Vorsicht weg,Am Sternenhimmel," etc.LITERAL TRANSLATION."Alas! for those who place their confidence on thee, against theelean their secure hut of their fortune, allured by thy hospitableform. Suddenly, unexpectedly, in a moment still as night, there isa fermentation in the treacherous gulf of fire; it dischargesitself with raging force, and away over all the plantations of mendrives the wild stream in frightful devastation."WALLENSTEIN.—"Thou art portraying thy father's heart; as thoudescribest, even so is it shaped in its entrails, in this blackhypocrite's breast. Oh, the art of hell has deceived me! The abysssent up to me the most the most spotted of the spirits, the mostskilful in lies, and placed him as a friend by my side. Who maywithstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to my bosom, withmy heart's blood I nourished him; he sucked himself glutfull at thebreasts of my love. I never harbored evil towards him; wide opendid I leave the door of my thoughts; I threw away the key of wiseforesight. In the starry heaven, etc." We find a difficulty inbelieving this to have been written by Schiller.6This is a poor and inadequate translation of the affectionatesimplicity of the original—Sie alle waren Fremdlinge, Du warstDas Kind des Hauses.Indeed the whole speech is in the best style of Massinger.O si sic omnia!7It appears that the account of his conversion being caused bysuch a fall, and other stories of his juvenile character, are notwell authenticated.8We doubt the propriety of putting so blasphemous a statement in themouth of any character.—T.9[This soliloquy, which, according to the former arrangement,constituted the whole of scene ix., and concluded the fourth act,is omitted in all the printed German editions. It seems probablethat it existed in the original manuscript from which Mr. Coleridgetranslated.—ED.]10 The soliloquy of Thekla consists in the original of six-and-twentylines twenty of which are in rhymes of irregular recurrence. Ithought it prudent to abridge it. Indeed the whole scene betweenThekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps, have been omitted withoutinjury to the play.—C.11These four lines are expressed in the original with exquisitefelicity:—Am Himmel ist geschaeftige Bewegung.Des Thurmes Fahne jagt der Wind, schnell gehtDer Wolken Zug, die Mondessichel wanktUnd durch die Nacht zuckt ungewisse Helle.The word "moon-sickle" reminds me of a passage in Harris, as quotedby Johnson, under the word "falcated." "The enlightened part of themoon appears in the form of a sickle or reaping-hook, which is whileshe is moving from the conjunction to the opposition, or from thenew moon to the full: but from full to a new again the enlightenedpart appears gibbous, and the dark falcated."The words "wanken" and "schweben" are not easily translated. TheEnglish words, by which we attempt to render them, are either vulgaror antic, or not of sufficiently general application. So "derWolken Zug"—The Draft, the Procession of Clouds. The Masses of theClouds sweep onward in swift stream.12A 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?