OCTAVIO and MAX. as before. To then the VALET OFTHE CHAMBER.OCTAVIO.How now, then?VALET.A despatch is at the door.OCTAVIO.So early? From whom comes he then? Who is it?VALET.That he refused to tell me.OCTAVIO.Lead him in:And, hark you—let it not transpire.[Exit VALET: the CORNET steps in.
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OCTAVIO.Ha! cornet—is it you; and from Count Gallas?Give me your letters.CORNET.The lieutenant-generalTrusted it not to letters.OCTAVIO.And what is it?CORNET.He bade me tell you—Dare I speak openly here?OCTAVIO.My son knows all.CORNET.We have him.OCTAVIO.Whom?CORNET.Sesina,The old negotiator.OCTAVIO (eagerly).And you have him?CORNET.In the Bohemian Forest Captain MohrbrandFound and secured him yester-morning early.He was proceeding then to Regensburg,And on him were despatches for the Swede.OCTAVIO.And the despatches——CORNET.The lieutenant-generalSent them that instant to Vienna, andThe prisoner with them.OCTAVIO.This is, indeed, a tiding!That fellow is a precious casket to us,Enclosing weighty things. Was much found on him?CORNET.I think, six packets, with Count Terzky's arms.OCTAVIO.None in the duke's own hand?CORNET.Not that I know.OCTAVIO.And old Sesina.CORNET.He was sorely frightened.When it was told him he must to Vienna;But the Count Altringer bade him take heart,Would he but make a full and free confession.OCTAVIO.Is Altringer then with your lord? I heardThat he lay sick at Linz.CORNET.These three days pastHe's with my master, the lieutenant-general,At Frauenburg. Already have they sixtySmall companies together, chosen men;Respectfully they greet you with assurances,That they are only waiting your commands.OCTAVIO.In a few days may great events take place.And when must you return?CORNET.I wait your orders.OCTAVIO.Remain till evening.[CORNET signifies his assent and obeisance, and is going.No one saw you—ha?CORNET.No living creature. Through the cloister wicketThe capuchins, as usual, let me in.OCTAVIO.Go, rest your limbs, and keep yourself concealed.I hold it probable that yet ere eveningI shall despatch you. The developmentOf this affair approaches: ere the day,That even now is dawning in the heaven,Ere this eventful day hath set, the lotThat must decide our fortunes will be drawn.[Exit CORNET.
OCTAVIO and MAX. PICCOLOMINI.OCTAVIO.Well—and what now, son? All will soon be clear;For all, I'm certain, went through that Sesina.MAX. (who through the whole of the foregoing scene has been ina violent and visible struggle of feelings, at length startsas one resolved).I will procure me light a shorter way.Farewell.OCTAVIO.Where now? Remain here.MAX.To the Duke.OCTAVIO (alarmed).What——MAX. (returning).If thou hast believed that I shall actA part in this thy play, thou hastMiscalculated on me grievously.My way must be straight on. True with the tongue,False with the heart—I may not, cannot beNor can I suffer that a man should trust me—As his friend trust me—and then lull my conscienceWith such low pleas as these: "I ask him not—He did it all at his own hazard—andMy mouth has never lied to him." No, no!What a friend takes me for, that I must be.I'll to the duke; ere yet this day is endedWill I demand of him that he do saveHis good name from the world, and with one strideBreak through and rend this fine-spun web of yours.He can, he will! I still am his believer,Yet I'll not pledge myself, but that those lettersMay furnish you, perchance, with proofs against him.How far may not this Terzky have proceeded—What may not he himself too have permittedHimself to do, to snare the enemy,The laws of war excusing? Nothing, saveHis own mouth shall convict him—nothing less!And face to face will I go question him.OCTAVIO.Thou wilt.MAX.I will, as sure as this heart beats.OCTAVIO.I have, indeed, miscalculated on thee.I calculated on a prudent son,Who would have blessed the hand beneficentThat plucked him back from the abyss—and lo!A fascinated being I discover,Whom his two eyes befool, whom passion wilders,Whom not the broadest light of noon can heal.Go, question him! Be mad enough, I pray thee.The purpose of thy father, of thy emperor,Go, give it up free booty! Force me, drive meTo an open breach before the time. And now,Now that a miracle of heaven had guardedMy secret purpose even to this hour,And laid to sleep suspicion's piercing eyes,Let me have lived to see that mine own son,With frantic enterprise, annihilatesMy toilsome labors and state policy.MAX.Ay—this state policy! Oh, how I curse it!You will some time, with your state policy,Compel him to the measure: it may happen,Because ye are determined that he is guilty,Guilty ye'll make him. All retreat cut off,You close up every outlet, hem him inNarrower and narrower, till at length ye force him—Yes, ye, ye force him, in his desperation,To set fire to his prison. Father! father!That never can end well—it cannot—will not!And let it be decided as it may,I see with boding heart the near approachOf an ill-starred, unblest catastrophe.For this great monarch-spirit, if he fall,Will drag a world into the ruin with him.And as a ship that midway on the oceanTakes fire, at once, and with a thunder-burstExplodes, and with itself shoots out its crewIn smoke and ruin betwixt sea and heaven!So will he, falling, draw down in his fallAll us, who're fixed and mortised to his fortune,Deem of it what thou wilt; but pardon me,That I must bear me on in my own way.All must remain pure betwixt him and me;And, ere the daylight dawns, it must be knownWhich I must lose—my father or my friend.[During his exit the curtain drops.
1A town about twelve German miles N.E. of Ulm.2The Dukes in Germany being always reigning powers, their sonsand daughters are entitled princes and princesses.3Carinthia.4A town not far from the Mine-mountains, on the high roadfrom Vienna to Prague.5In the original,—"Den blut'gen Lorbeer geb' ich hin mit FreudenFuers erste Veilchen, das der Maerz uns bringt,Das duerftige Pfand der neuverjuengten Erde."6A reviewer in the Literary Gazette observes that, in theselines, Mr. Coleridge has misapprehended the meaning of the word"Zug," a team, translating it as "Anzug," a suit of clothes. Thefollowing version, as a substitute, I propose:—When from your stables there is brought to meA team of four most richly harnessed horses.The term, however, is "Jagd-zug" which may mean a "huntingequipage," or a "hunting stud;" although Hilpert gives only "a teamof four horses."7Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar, who succeeded Gustavus in command.8The original is not translatable into English:——Und sein SoldMuss dem Soldaten werden, darnach heisst er.It might perhaps have been thus rendered:—And that for which he sold his services,The soldier must receive—but a false or doubtful etymology is no more than a dull pun.9In Germany, after honorable addresses have been paid and formallyaccepted, the lovers are called bride and bridegreoom, even thoughthe marriage should not take place till years afterwards.10I am doubtful whether this be the dedication of the cloister,or the name of one of the city gates, near which it stood. I havetranslated it in the former sense; but fearful of having made someblunder, I add the original,—Es ist ein Kloster hier zur Himmelspforte.11No more of talk, where god or angel guestWith man, as with his friend familiar, usedTo sit indulgent. Paradise Lost, B. IX.12I found it not in my power to translate this song with literalfidelity preserving at the same time the Alcaic movement, and havetherefore added the original, with a prose translation. Some of myreaders may be more fortunate.THEKLA (spielt and singt).Der Eichwald brauset, die Wolken ziehn,Das Maegdlein wandelt an Ufers Gruen;Es bricht sich die Welle mit Macht, mit Macht,Und sie singt hinaus in die finstre Nacht,Das Auge von Weinen getruebet:Das Herz is gestorben, die Welt ist leer,Und weiter giebt sie dem Wunsche nichts mehr.Du Heilige, rufe dein Kind zurueck,Ich babe genossen das irdische Glueck,Ich babe gelebt and geliebet.LITERAL TRANSLATION.THEKLA (plays and sings). The oak-forest bellows, the cloudsgather, the damsel walks to and fro on the green of the shore; thewave breaks with might, with might, and she sings out into the darknight, her eye discolored with weeping: the heart is dead, the worldis empty, and further gives it nothing more to the wish. Thou HolyOne, call thy child home. I have enjoyed the happiness of thisworld, I have lived and have loved.I cannot but add here an imitation of this song, with which myfriend, Charles Lamb, has favored me, and which appears to me tohave caught the happiest manner of our old ballads:—The clouds are blackening, the storms are threatening,The cavern doth mutter, the greenwood moan!Billows are breaking, the damsel's heart aching,Thus in the dark night she singeth alone,He eye upward roving:The world is empty, the heart is dead surely,In this world plainly all seemeth amiss;To thy heaven, Holy One, take home thy little one.I have partaken of all earth's bliss,Both living and loving.13There are few who will not have taste enough to laugh at thetwo concluding lines of this soliloquy: and still fewer, I wouldfain hope, who would not have been more disposed to shudder, had Igiven a faithful translation. For the readers of German I haveadded the original:—Blind-wuethend schleudert selbst der Gott der FreudeDen Pechkranz in das brennende Gebaeude.