OCTAVIO (attentive, with an appearance of uneasiness).And so your journey has revealed this to you?
MAX.'Twas the first leisure of my life. O tell me,What is the meed and purpose of the toil,The painful toil which robbed me of my youth,Left me a heart unsouled and solitary,A spirit uninformed, unornamented!For the camp's stir, and crowd, and ceaseless larum,The neighing war-horse, the air-shattering trumpet,The unvaried, still returning hour of duty,Word of command, and exercise of arms—There's nothing here, there's nothing in all this,To satisfy the heart, the gasping heart!Mere bustling nothingness, where the soul is not—This cannot be the sole felicity,These cannot be man's best and only pleasures!
OCTAVIO.Much hast thou learnt, my son, in this short journey.
MAX.Oh day, thrice lovely! when at length the soldierReturns home into life; when he becomesA fellow-man among his fellow-men.The colors are unfurled, the cavalcadeMashals, and now the buzz is hushed, and hark!Now the soft peace-march beats, home, brothers, home!The caps and helmet are all garlandedWith green boughs, the last plundering of the fields.The city gates fly open of themselves,They need no longer the petard to tear them.The ramparts are all filled with men and women,With peaceful men and women, that send onwards.Kisses and welcomings upon the air,Which they make breezy with affectionate gestures.From all the towers rings out the merry peal,The joyous vespers of a bloody day.O happy man, O fortunate! for whomThe well-known door, the faithful arms are open,The faithful tender arms with mute embracing.
QUESTENBERG (apparently much affected).O that you should speakOf such a distant, distant time, and notOf the to-morrow, not of this to-day.
MAX. (turning round to him quick and vehement).Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna!I will deal openly with you, Questenberg.Just now, as first I saw you standing here(I'll own it to you freely), indignationCrowded and pressed my inmost soul together.'Tis ye that hinder peace, ye!—and the warrior,It is the warrior that must force it from you.Ye fret the general's life out, blacken him,Hold him up as a rebel, and heaven knowsWhat else still worse, because he spares the Saxons,And tries to awaken confidence in the enemy;Which yet's the only way to peace: for ifWar intermit not during war, how thenAnd whence can peace come? Your own plagues fall on you!Even as I love what's virtuous, hate I you.And here I make this vow, here pledge myself,My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein,And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere yeShall revel and dance jubilee o'er his ruin.[Exit.
QUESTENBERG.Alas! alas! and stands it so?[Then in pressing and impatient tones.What friend! and do we let him go awayIn this delusion—let him go away?Not call him back immediately, not openHis eyes, upon the spot?
OCTAVIO (recovering himself out of a deep study).He has now opened mine,And I see more than pleases me.
QUESTENBERG.What is it?
OCTAVIO.Curse on this journey!
QUESTENBERG.But why so? What is it?
OCTAVIO.Come, come along, friend! I must follow upThe ominous track immediately. Mine eyesAre opened now, and I must use them. Come!
[Draws QUESTENBERG on with him.
QUESTENBERG.What now? Where go you then?
OCTAVIO.To her herself.
QUESTENBERG.To——
OCTAVIO (interrupting him and correcting himself).To the duke. Come, let us go 'Tis done, 'tis done,I see the net that is thrown over him.Oh! he returns not to me as he went.
QUESTENBERG.Nay, but explain yourself.
OCTAVIO.And that I should notForesee it, not prevent this journey! WhereforeDid I keep it from him? You were in the right.I should have warned him. Now it is too late.
QUESTENBERG.But what's too late? Bethink yourself, my friend,That you are talking absolute riddles to me.
OCTAVIO (more collected).Come I to the duke's. 'Tis close upon the hourWhich he appointed you for audience. Come!A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey!
[He leads QUESTENBERG off.
Changes to a spacious chamber in the house of the Duke of Friedland. Servants employed in putting the tables and chairs in order. During this enters SENI, like an old Italian doctor, in black, and clothed somewhat fantastically. He carries a white staff, with which he marks out the quarters of the heavens.
FIRST SERVANT. Come—to it, lads, to it! Make an end of it. I hear the sentry call out, "Stand to your arms!" They will be here in a minute.
SECOND SERVANT. Why were we not told before that the audience would be held here? Nothing prepared—no orders—no instructions.
THIRD SERVANT. Ay, and why was the balcony chamber countermanded, that with the great worked carpet? There one can look about one.
FIRST SERVANT. Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. He says it is an unlucky chamber.
SECOND SERVANT. Poh! stuff and nonsense! that's what I call a hum. A chamber is a chamber; what much can the place signify in the affair?
SENI (with gravity).My son, there's nothing insignificant,Nothing! But yet in every earthly thing,First and most principal is place and time.
FIRST SERVANT (to the second). Say nothing to him, Nat. The duke himself must let him have his own will.
SENI (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low voice, tillhe comes to eleven, which he repeats).Eleven! an evil number! Set twelve chairs.Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac: five and seven,The holy numbers, include themselves in twelve.
SECOND SERVANT. And what may you have to object against eleven? I should like to know that now.
SENI.Eleven is transgression; eleven overstepsThe ten commandments.
SECOND SERVANT. That's good? and why do you call five a holy number?
SENI.Five is the soul of man: for even as manIs mingled up of good and evil, soThe five is the first number that's made upOf even and odd.
SECOND SERVANT. The foolish old coxcomb!
FIRST SERVANT. Ay! let him alone though. I like to hear him; there is more in his words than can be seen at first sight.
THIRD SERVANT. Off, they come.
SECOND SERVANT. There! Out at the side-door.
[They hurry off: SENI follows slowly. A page brings the staff of command on a red cushion, and places it on the table, near the duke's chair. They are announced from without, and the wings of the door fly open.
WALLENSTEIN.You went, then, through Vienna, were presentedTo the Queen of Hungary?
DUCHESS.Yes; and to the empress, too,And by both majesties were we admittedTo kiss the hand.
WALLENSTEIN.And how was it received,That I had sent for wife and daughter hitherTo the camp, in winter-time?
DUCHESS.I did even thatWhich you commissioned me to do. I told themYou had determined on our daughter's marriage,And wished, ere yet you went into the field,To show the elected husband his betrothed.
WALLENSTEIN.And did they guess the choice which I had made?
DUCHESS.They only hoped and wished it may have fallenUpon no foreign nor yet Lutheran noble.
WALLENSTEIN.And you—what do you wish, Elizabeth?
DUCHESS.Your will, you know, was always mine.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause).Well, then,—And in all else, of what kind and complexionWas your reception at the court?[The DUCHESS casts her eyes on the ground, and remains silent.Hide nothing from me. How were you received?
DUCHESS.O! my dear lord, all is not what it was.A canker-worm, my lord, a canker-wormHas stolen into the bud.
WALLENSTEIN.Ay! is it so?What, they were lax? they failed of the old respect?
DUCHESS.Not of respect. No honors were omitted,No outward courtesy; but in the placeOf condescending, confidential kindness,Familiar and endearing, there were given meOnly these honors and that solemn courtesy.Ah! and the tenderness which was put on,It was the guise of pity, not of favor.No! Albrecht's wife, Duke Albrecht's princely wife,Count Harrach's noble daughter, should not so—Not wholly so should she have been received.
WALLENSTEIN.Yes, yes; they have taken offence. My latest conductThey railed at it, no doubt.
DUCHESS.O that they had!I have been long accustomed to defend you,To heal and pacify distempered spirits.No; no one railed at you. They wrapped them up,O Heaven! in such oppressive, solemn silence!Here is no every-day misunderstanding,No transient pique, no cloud that passes over;Something most luckless, most unhealable,Has taken place. The Queen of HungaryUsed formerly to call me her dear aunt,And ever at departure to embrace me——
WALLENSTEIN.Now she omitted it?
DUCHESS (wiping away her tears after a pause).She did embrace me,But then first when I had already takenMy formal leave, and when the door alreadyHad closed upon me, then did she come outIn haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,And pressed me to her bosom, more with anguishThan tenderness.
WALLENSTEIN (seizes her hand soothingly).Nay, now collect yourself.And what of Eggenberg and Lichtenstein,And of our other friends there?
DUCHESS (shaking her head).I saw none.
WALLENSTEIN.The ambassador from Spain, who once was wontTo plead so warmly for me?
DUCHESS.Silent, silent!
WALLENSTEIN.These suns then are eclipsed for us. HenceforwardMust we roll on, our own fire, our own light.
DUCHESS.And were it—were it, my dear lord, in thatWhich moved about the court in buzz and whisper,But in the country let itself be heardAloud—in that which Father LanormainIn sundry hints and——
WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).Lanormain! what said he?
DUCHESS.That you're accused of having daringlyO'erstepped the powers intrusted to you, chargedWith traitorous contempt of the emperorAnd his supreme behests. The proud Bavarian,He and the Spaniards stand up your accusers—That there's a storm collecting over youOf far more fearful menace than the former oneWhich whirled you headlong down at Regensburg.And people talk, said he, of——Ah![Stifling extreme emotion.
WALLENSTEIN.Proceed!
DUCHESS.I cannot utter it!
WALLENSTEIN.Proceed!
DUCHESS.They talk——
WALLENSTEIN.Well!
DUCHESS.Of a second——(catches her voice and hesitates.)
WALLENSTEIN.Second——
DUCHESS.Most disgracefulDismission.
WALLENSTEIN.Talk they?[Strides across the chamber in vehement agitation.Oh! they force, they thrust meWith violence, against my own will, onward!
DUCHESS (presses near him in entreaty).Oh! if there yet be time, my husband, ifBy giving way and by submission, thisCan be averted—my dear Lord, give way!Win down your proud heart to it! Tell the heart,It is your sovereign lord, your emperor,Before whom you retreat. Oh! no longerLow trickling malice blacken your good meaningWith abhorred venomous glosses. Stand you upShielded and helmed and weaponed with the truth,And drive before you into uttermost shameThese slanderous liars! Few firm friends have we—You know it! The swift growth of our good fortuneIt hath but set us up a mark for hatred.What are we, if the sovereign's grace and favorStand not before us!
Enter the Countess TERZKY, leading in her hand the Princess THEKLA, richly adorned with brilliants.
COUNTESS.How sister? What, already upon business?[Observing the countenance of the DUCHESS.And business of no pleasing kind I see,Ere he has gladdened at his child. The firstMoment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!This is thy daughter.
[THEKLA approaches with a shy and timid air, and bends herself asabout to kiss his hand. He receives her in his arms, and remainsstanding for some time lost in the feeling of her presence.
WALLENSTEIN.Yes! pure and lovely hath hope risen on me,I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.
DUCHESS.'Twas but a little child when you departedTo raise up that great army for the emperorAnd after, at the close of the campaign,When you returned home out of Pomerania,Your daughter was already in the convent,Wherein she has remained till now.
WALLENSTEIN.The whileWe in the field here gave our cares and toilsTo make her great, and fight her a free wayTo the loftiest earthly good; lo! mother NatureWithin the peaceful, silent convent walls,Has done her part, and out of her free graceHath she bestowed on the beloved childThe god-like; and now leads her thus adornedTo meet her splendid fortune, and my hope.
DUCHESS (to THEKLA).Thou wouldst not now have recognized thy father,Wouldst thou, my child? She counted scarce eight yearsWhen last she saw your face.
THEKLA.O yes, yes, mother!At the first glance! My father has not altered.The form that stands before me falsifiesNo feature of the image that hath livedSo long within me!
WALLENSTEIN.The voice of my child![Then after a pause.I was indignant at my destiny,That it denied me a man-child, to beHeir of my name and of my prosperous fortune,And re-illume my soon-extinguished beingIn a proud line of princes.I wronged my destiny. Here upon this head,So lovely in its maiden bloom, will ILet fall the garland of a life of war,Nor deem it lost, if only I can wreath it,Transmuted to a regal ornament,Around these beauteous brows.
[He clasps her in his arms as PICCOLOMINI enters.
Enter MAX. PICCOLOMINI, and some time after COUNT TERZKY, theothers remaining as before.
COUNTESS.There comes the Paladin who protected us.
WALLENSTEIN.Max.! Welcome, ever welcome! Always wert thouThe morning star of my best joys!
MAX.My general——
WALLENSTEIN.Till now it was the emperor who rewarded thee,I but the instrument. This day thou hast boundThe father to thee, Max.! the fortunate father,And this debt Friedland's self must pay.
MAX.My prince!You made no common hurry to transfer it.I come with shame: yea, not without a pang!For scarce have I arrived here, scarce deliveredThe mother and the daughter to your arms,But there is brought to me from your equerry [6]A splendid richly-plated hunting dressSo to remunerate me for my troubles—Yes, yes, remunerate me,—since a troubleIt must be, a mere office, not a favorWhich I leaped forward to receive, and whichI came with grateful heart to thank you for.No! 'twas not so intended, that my businessShould be my highest best good fortune!
[TERZKY enters; and delivers letters to the DUKE, which hebreaks open hurriedly.
COUNTESS (to MAX.).Remunerate your trouble! For his joy,He makes you recompense. 'Tis not unfittingFor you, Count Piccolomini, to feelSo tenderly—my brother it beseemsTo show himself forever great and princely.
THEKLA.Then I too must have scruples of his love:For his munificent hands did ornament meEre yet the father's heart had spoken to me.
MAXYes; 'tis his nature ever to be givingAnd making happy.[He grasps the hand of the DUCHESS with still increasing warmth.How my heart pours outIts all of thanks to him! O! how I seemTo utter all things in the dear name—Friedland.While I shall live, so long will I remainThe captive of this name: in it shall bloomMy every fortune, every lovely hope.Inextricably as in some magic ringIn this name hath my destiny charm-bound me!
COUNTESS (who during this time has been anxiously watching the DUKE, and remarks that he is lost in thought over the letters). My brother wishes us to leave him. Come.
WALLENSTEIN (turns himself round quick, collects himself, and speakswith cheerfulness to the DUCHESS).Once more I bid thee welcome to the camp,Thou art the hostess of this court. You, Max.,Will now again administer your old office,While we perform the sovereign's business here.
[MAX. PICCOLOMINI offers the DUCHESS his arm; the COUNTESSaccompanies the PRINCESS.
TERZKY (calling after him).Max., we depend on seeing you at the meeting.
WALLENSTEIN (in deep thought, to himself).She has seen all things as they are—it is so,And squares completely with my other notices,They have determined finally in Vienna,Have given me my successor already;It is the King of Hungary, Ferdinand,The emperor's delicate son! he's now their savior,He's the new star that's rising now! Of usThey think themselves already fairly rid,And as we were deceased, the heir alreadyIs entering on possession—Therefore—despatch!
[As he turns round he observes TERZKY, and gives him a letter.
Count Altringer will have himself excused,And Gallas too—I like not this!
TERZKY.And ifThou loiterest longer, all will fall away,One following the other.
WALLENSTEIN.AltringerIs master of the Tyrol passes. I must forthwithSend some one to him, that he let not inThe Spaniards on me from the Milanese.—Well, and the old Sesin, that ancient traderIn contraband negotiations, heHas shown himself again of late. What brings heFrom the Count Thur?
TERZKY.The count communicatesHe has found out the Swedish chancellorAt Halberstadt, where the convention's held,Who says, you've tired him out, and that he'll haveNo further dealings with you.
WALLENSTEIN.And why so?
TERZKY.He says, you are never in earnest in your speeches;That you decoy the Swedes—to make fools of them;Will league yourself with Saxony against them,And at last make yourself a riddance of themWith a paltry sum of money.
WALLENSTEIN.So then, doubtless,Yes, doubtless, this same modest Swede expectsThat I shall yield him some fair German tractFor his prey and booty, that ourselves at lastOn our own soil and native territoryMay be no longer our own lords and masters!An excellent scheme! No, no! They must be off,Off, off! away! we want no such neighbors.
TERZKY.Nay, yield them up that dot, that speck of land—It goes not from your portion. If you winThe game, what matters it to you who pays it?
WALLENSTEIN.Off with them, off! Thou understand'st not this.Never shall it be said of me, I parcelledMy native land away, dismembered Germany,Betrayed it to a foreigner, in orderTo come with stealthy tread, and filch awayMy own share of the plunder—Never! never!No foreign power shall strike root in the empire,And least of all these Goths! these hungry wolves!Who send such envious, hot, and greedy glancesToward the rich blessings of our German lands!I'll have their aid to cast and draw my nets,But not a single fish of all the draughtShall they come in for.
TERZKY.You will deal, however,More fairly with the Saxons? they lose patienceWhile you shift round and make so many curves.Say, to what purpose all these masks? Your friendsAre plunged in doubts, baffled, and led astray in you.There's Oxenstiern, there's Arnheim—neither knowsWhat he should think of your procrastinations,And in the end I prove the liar; allPasses through me. I've not even your handwriting.
WALLENSTEIN.I never give handwriting; and thou knowest it.
TERZKY.But how can it be known that you are in earnest,If the act follows not upon the word?You must yourself acknowledge, that in allYour intercourses hitherto with the enemy,You might have done with safety all you have done.Had you meant nothing further than to gull himFor the emperor's service.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause, during which he looks narrowly on TERZKY).And from whence dost thou knowThat I'm not gulling him for the emperor's service?Whence knowest thou that I'm not gulling all of you?Dost thou know me so well? When made I theeThe intendant of my secret purposes?I am not conscious that I ever openedMy inmost thoughts to thee. The emperor, it is true,Hath dealt with me amiss; and if I wouldI could repay him with usurious interestFor the evil he hath done me. It delights meTo know my power; but whether I shall use it,Of that I should have thought that thou couldst speakNo wiser than thy fellows.
TERZKY.So hast thou always played thy game with us.
[Enter ILLO.
WALLENSTEIN.How stand affairs without? Are they prepared?
ILLO.You'll find them in the very mood you wish.They know about the emperor's requisition,And are tumultuous.
WALLENSTEIN. How hath Isolani declared himself?
ILLO.He's yours, both soul and body,Since you built up again his faro-bank.
WALLENSTEIN.And which way doth Kolatto bend? Hast thouMade sure of Tiefenbach and Deodati?
ILLO.What Piccolomini does that they do too.
WALLENSTEIN.You mean, then, I may venture somewhat with them?
ILLO.If you are assured of the Piccolomini.
WALLENSTEIN.Not more assured of mine own self.
TERZKY.And yetI would you trusted not so much to Octavio,The fox!
WALLENSTEIN.Thou teachest me to know my man?Sixteen campaigns I have made with that old warrior.Besides, I have his horoscope;We both are born beneath like stars—in short,[With an air of mystery.To this belongs its own peculiar aspect,If therefore thou canst warrant me the rest——
ILLO.There is among them all but this one voice,You must not lay down the command. I hearThey mean to send a deputation to you.
WALLENSTEIN.If I'm in aught to bind myself to themThey too must bind themselves to me.
ILLO.Of course.
WALLENSTEIN.Their words of honor they must give, their oaths,Give them in writing to me, promisingDevotion to my service unconditional.
ILLO.Why not?
TERZKY.Devotion unconditional?The exception of their duties towards AustriaThey'll always place among the premises.With this reserve——
WALLENSTEIN (shaking his head).All unconditional;No premises, no reserves.
ILLO.A thought has struck me.Does not Count Terzky give us a set banquetThis evening?
TERZKY.Yes; and all the generalsHave been invited.
ILLO (to WALLENSTEIN).Say, will you here fullyCommission me to use my own discretion?I'll gain for you the generals' word of honor,Even as you wish.
WALLENSTEIN.Gain me their signatures!How you come by them that is your concern.
ILLO.And if I bring it to you in black on white,That all the leaders who are present hereGive themselves up to you, without condition;Say, will you then—then will you show yourselfIn earnest, and with some decisive actionTry your fortune.
WALLENSTEIN.Get but the signatures!
ILLO.Think what thou dost, thou canst not executeThe emperor's orders, nor reduce thine army,Nor send the regiments to the Spaniards' aid,Unless thou wouldst resign thy power forever.Think on the other hand—thou canst not spurnThe emperor's high commands and solemn orders,Nor longer temporize, nor seek evasion,Wouldst thou avoid a rupture with the court.Resolve then! Wilt thou now by one bold actAnticipate their ends, or, doubting still,Await the extremity?
WALLENSTEIN.There's time beforeThe extremity arrives.
ILLO.Seize, seize the hour,Ere it slips from you. Seldom comes the momentIn life, which is indeed sublime and weighty.To make a great decision possible,O! many things, all transient and all rapid,Must meet at once: and, haply, they thus metMay by that confluence be enforced to pauseTime long-enough for wisdom, though too short,Far, far too short a time for doubt and scruple!This is that moment. See, our army chieftains,Our best, our noblest, are assembled round you,Their king-like leader! On your nod they wait.The single threads, which here your prosperous fortuneHath woven together in one potent webInstinct with destiny, O! let them notUnravel of themselves. If you permitThese chiefs to separate, so unanimousBring you them not a second time together.'Tis the high tide that heaves the stranded ship,And every individual's spirit waxesIn the great stream of multitudes. BeholdThey are still here, here still! But soon the warBursts them once more asunder, and in smallParticular anxieties and interestsScatters their spirit, and the sympathyOf each man with the whole. He who to-dayForgets himself, forced onward with the stream,Will become sober, seeing but himself.Feel only his own weakness, and with speedWill face about, and march on in the oldHigh road of duty, the old broad-trodden road,And seek but to make shelter in good plight.
WALLENSTEIN.The time is not yet come.
TERZKY.So you say always.But when will it be time?
WALLENSTEIN.When I shall say it.
ILLO.You'll wait upon the stars, and on their hours,Till the earthly hour escapes you. Oh, believe me,In your own bosom are your destiny's stars.Confidence in yourself, prompt resolution,This is your Venus! and the sole malignant,The only one that harmeth you is doubt.
WALLENSTEIN.Thou speakest as thou understandest. How oftAnd many a time I've told thee Jupiter,That lustrous god, was setting at thy birth.Thy visual power subdues no mysteries;Mole-eyed thou mayest but burrow in the earth,Blind as the subterrestrial, who with wanLead-colored shine lighted thee into life.The common, the terrestrial, thou mayest see,With serviceable cunning knit together,The nearest with the nearest; and thereinI trust thee and believe thee! but whate'erFull of mysterious import Nature weaves,And fashions in the depths—the spirit's ladder,That from this gross and visible world of dust,Even to the starry world, with thousand rounds,Builds itself up; on which the unseen powersMove up and down on heavenly ministries—The circles in the circles, that approachThe central sun with ever-narrowing orbit—These see the glance alone, the unsealed eye,Of Jupiter's glad children born in lustre.
[He walks across the chamber, then returns, and standing still, proceeds.
The heavenly constellations make not merelyThe day and nights, summer and spring, not merelySignify to the husbandman the seasonsOf sowing and of harvest. Human action,That is the seed, too, of contingencies,Strewed on the dark land of futurityIn hopes to reconcile the powers of fateWhence it behoves us to seek out the seed-time,To watch the stars, select their proper hours,And trace with searching eye the heavenly houses,Whether the enemy of growth and thrivingHide himself not, malignant, in his corner.Therefore permit me my own time. MeanwhileDo you your part. As yet I cannot sayWhat I shall do—only, give way I will not,Depose me, too, they shall not. On these pointsYou may rely.
PAGE (entering).My lords, the generals.
WALLENSTEIN.Let them come in.
TERZKY.Shall all the chiefs be present?
WALLENSTEIN.'Twere needless. Both the PiccolominiMaradas, Butler, Forgoetsch, Deodati,Karaffa, Isolani—these may come.
[TERZKY goes out with the PAGE.
WALLENSTEIN (to ILLO).Hast thou taken heed that Questenberg was watched?Had he no means of secret intercourse?
ILLO.I have watched him closely—and he spoke with noneBut with Octavio.
WALLENSTRIN, TERZKY, ILLO.—To them enter QUESTENBERG, OCTAVIO, and MAX. PICCOLOMINI, BUTLER, ISOLANI, MARADAS, and three other Generals. WALLENSTEIN Motions QUESTENBERG, who in consequence takes the chair directly opposite to him; the others follow, arranging themselves according to their rank. There reigns a momentary silence.
WALLENSTEIN.I have understood,'Tis true, the sum and import, Questenberg,Of your instructions. I have weighed them well,And formed my final, absolute resolve;Yet it seems fitting that the generalsShould hear the will of the emperor from your mouth.May it please you then to open your commissionBefore these noble chieftains?
QUESTENBERG.I am readyTo obey you; but will first entreat your highness,And all these noble chieftains, to consider,The imperial dignity and sovereign rightSpeaks from my mouth, and not my own presumption.
WALLENSTEIN.We excuse all preface.
QUESTENBERG.When his majestyThe emperor to his courageous armiesPresented in the person of Duke FriedlandA most experienced and renowned commander,He did it in glad hope and confidenceTo give thereby to the fortune of the warA rapid and auspicious change. The onsetWas favorable to his royal wishes.Bohemia was delivered from the Saxons,The Swede's career of conquest checked! These landsBegan to draw breath freely, as Duke FriedlandFrom all the streams of Germany forced hitherThe scattered armies of the enemy;Hither invoked as round one magic circleThe Rhinegrave, Bernhard, Banner, Oxenstiern,Yea, and the never-conquered king himself;Here finally, before the eye of Nuernberg,The fearful game of battle to decide.
WALLENSTEIN.To the point, so please you.
QUESTENBERG.A new spiritAt once proclaimed to us the new commander.No longer strove blind rage with rage more blind;But in the enlightened field of skill was shownHow fortitude can triumph over boldness,And scientific art outweary courage.In vain they tempt him to the fight. He onlyEntrenches him still deeper in his hold,As if to build an everlasting fortress.At length grown desperate, now, the king resolvesTo storm the camp and lead his wasted legions,Who daily fall by famine and by plague,To quicker deaths and hunger and disease.Through lines of barricades behind whose fenceDeath lurks within a thousand mouths of fire,He yet unconquered strives to storm his way.There was attack, and there resistance, suchAs mortal eye had never seen before;Repulsed at last, the king withdrew his troopsFrom this so murderous field, and not a footOf ground was gained by all that fearful slaughter.
WALLENSTEIN.Pray spare us these recitals from gazettes,Which we ourselves beheld with deepest horror.
QUESTENBERG.In Nuernberg's camp the Swedish monarch leftHis fame—in Luetzen's plains his life. But whoStood not astounded, when victorious FriedlandAfter this day of triumph, this proud day,Marched toward Bohemia with the speed of flight,And vanished from the theatre of war?While the young Weimar hero [7] forced his wayInto Franconia, to the Danube, likeSome delving winter-stream, which, where it rushes,Makes its own channel; with such sudden speedHe marched, and now at once 'fore RegensburgStood to the affright of all good Catholic Christians.Then did Bavaria's well-deserving princeEntreat swift aidance in his extreme need;The emperor sends seven horsemen to Duke Friedland,Seven horsemen couriers sends he with the entreatyHe superadds his own, and supplicatesWhere as the sovereign lord he can command.In vain his supplication! At this momentThe duke hears only his old hate and grudge,Barters the general good to gratifyPrivate revenge—and so falls Regensburg.
WALLENSTEIN.Max., to what period of the war alludes he?My recollection fails me here.
MAX.He meansWhen we were in Silesia.
WALLENSTEIN.Ay! is it so!But what had we to do there?
MAX.To beat outThe Swedes and Saxons from the province.
WALLENSTEIN.True;In that description which the minister gave,I seemed to have forgotten the whole war.[TO QUESTENBERG.Well, but proceed a little.
QUESTENBERG.We hoped upon the Oder to regainWhat on the Danube shamefully was lost.We looked for deeds of all-astounding grandeurUpon a theatre of war, on whichA Friedland led in person to the field,And the famed rival of the great GustavusHad but a Thurn and Arnheim to oppose him!Yet the encounter of their mighty hostsServed but to feast and entertain each other.Our country groaned beneath the woes of war,Yet naught but peace prevailed in Friedland's camp!
WALLENSTEIN.Full many a bloody strife is fought in vain,Because its youthful general needs a victory.But 'tis the privilege of the old commanderTo spare the costs of fighting useless battlesMerely to show that he knows how to conquer.It would have little helped my fame to boastOf conquest o'er an Arnheim; but far moreWould my forbearance have availed my country,Had I succeeded to dissolve the allianceExisting 'twixt the Saxon and the Swede.
QUESTENBERG.But you did not succeed, and so commencedThe fearful strife anew. And here at length,Beside the river Oder did the dukeAssert his ancient fame. Upon the fieldsOf Steinau did the Swedes lay down their arms,Subdued without a blow. And here, with others,The righteousness of heaven to his avengerDelivered that long-practised stirrer-upOf insurrection, that curse-laden torchAnd kindler of this war, Matthias Thurn.But he had fallen into magnanimous handsInstead of punishment he found reward,And with rich presents did the duke dismissThe arch-foe of his emperor.
WALLENSTEIN (laughs).I know,I know you had already in ViennaYour windows and your balconies forestalledTo see him on the executioner's cart.I might have lost the battle, lost it tooWith infamy, and still retained your graces—But, to have cheated them of a spectacle,Oh! that the good folks of Vienna never,No, never can forgive me!
QUESTENBERG.So SilesiaWas freed, and all things loudly called the dukeInto Bavaria, now pressed hard on all sides.And he did put his troops in motion: slowly,Quite at his ease, and by the longest roadHe traverses Bohemia; but ere everHe hath once seen the enemy, faces round,Breaks up the march, and takes to winter-quarters.
WALLENSTEIN.The troops were pitiably destituteOf every necessary, every comfort,The winter came. What thinks his majestyHis troops are made of? Aren't we men; subjectedLike other men to wet, and cold, and allThe circumstances of necessity?Oh, miserable lot of the poor soldier!Wherever he comes in all flee before him,And when he goes away the general curseFollows him on his route. All must be seized.Nothing is given him. And compelled to seizeFrom every man he's every man's abhorrence.Behold, here stand my generals. Karaffa!Count Deodati! Butler! Tell this manHow long the soldier's pay is in arrears.
BUTLER.Already a full year.
WALLENSTEIN.And 'tis the hireThat constitutes the hireling's name and duties,The soldier's pay is the soldier's covenant. [8]
QUESTENBERG.Ah! this is a far other tone from thatIn which the duke spoke eight, nine years ago.
WALLENSTEIN.Yes! 'tis my fault, I know it: I myselfHave spoilt the emperor by indulging him.Nine years ago, during the Danish war,I raised him up a force, a mighty force,Forty or fifty thousand men, that cost himOf his own purse no doit. Through SaxonyThe fury goddess of the war marched on,E'en to the surf-rocks of the Baltic, bearingThe terrors of his name. That was a time!In the whole imperial realm no name like mineHonored with festival and celebration—And Albrecht Wallenstein, it was the titleOf the third jewel in his crown!But at the Diet, when the princes metAt Regensburg, there, there the whole broke out,There 'twas laid open, there it was made knownOut of what money-bag I had paid the host,And what were now my thanks, what had I nowThat I, a faithful servant of the sovereign,Had loaded on myself the people's curses,And let the princes of the empire payThe expenses of this war that aggrandizesThe emperor alone. What thanks had I?What? I was offered up to their complaintDismissed, degraded!
QUESTENBERG.But your highness knowsWhat little freedom he possessed of actionIn that disastrous Diet.
WALLENSTEIN.Death and hell!I had that which could have procured him freedomNo! since 'twas proved so inauspicious to meTo serve the emperor at the empire's cost,I have been taught far other trains of thinkingOf the empire and the Diet of the empire.From the emperor, doubtless, I received this staff,But now I hold it as the empire's general,—For the common weal, the universal interest,And no more for that one man's aggrandizement!But to the point. What is it that's desired of me?
QUESTENBERG.First, his imperial majesty hath willedThat without pretexts of delay the armyEvacuate Bohemia.
WALLENSTEIN.In this season?And to what quarter wills the emperorThat we direct our course?
QUESTENBERG.To the enemy.His majesty resolves, that RegensburgBe purified from the enemy ere Easter,That Lutheranism may be no longer preachedIn that cathedral, nor hereticalDefilement desecrate the celebrationOf that pure festival.
WALLENSTEIN.My generals,Can this be realized?
ILLO.'Tis not possible.
BUTLER.It can't be realized.
QUESTENBERG.The emperorAlready hath commanded Colonel SuysTo advance towards Bavaria.
WALLENSTEIN.What did Suys?
QUESTENBERG.That which his duty prompted. He advanced.
WALLENSTEIN.What! he advanced? And I, his general,Had given him orders, peremptory ordersNot to desert his station! Stands it thusWith my authority? Is this the obedienceDue to my office, which being thrown aside,No war can be conducted? Chieftains, speakYou be the judges, generals. What deservesThat officer who, of his oath neglectful,Is guilty of contempt of orders?
ILLO.Death.
WALLENSTEIN (raising his voice, as all but ILLO had remained silent and seemingly scrupulous). Count Piccolomini! what has he deserved?
MAX. PICCOLOMINI (after a long pause).According to the letter of the law,Death.
ISOLANI.Death.
BUTLER.Death, by the laws of war.
[QUESTENBERG rises from his seat, WALLENSTEIN follows, allthe rest rise.
WALLENSTEIN.To this the law condemns him, and not I.And if I show him favor, 'twill ariseFrom the reverence that I owe my emperor.
QUESTENBERG.If so, I can say nothing further—here!
WALLENSTEIN.I accepted the command but on conditions!And this the first, that to the diminutionOf my authority no human being,Not even the emperor's self, should be entitledTo do aught, or to say aught, with the army.If I stand warranter of the event,Placing my honor and my head in pledge,Needs must I have full mastery in allThe means thereto. What rendered this GustavusResistless, and unconquered upon earth?This—that he was the monarch in his army!A monarch, one who is indeed a monarch,Was never yet subdued but by his equal.But to the point! The best is yet to come,Attend now, generals!
QUESTENBERG.The Prince CardinalBegins his route at the approach of springFrom the Milanese; and leads a Spanish armyThrough Germany into the Netherlands.That he may march secure and unimpeded,'Tis the emperor's will you grant him a detachmentOf eight horse-regiments from the army here.
WALLENSTEIN.Yes, yes! I understand! Eight regiments! Well,Right well concerted, Father Lanormain!Eight thousand horse! Yes, yes! 'tis as it should beI see it coming.
QUESTENBERG.There is nothing coming.All stands in front: the counsel of state-prudence,The dictate of necessity!
WALLENSTEIN.What then?What, my lord envoy? May I not be sufferedTo understand that folks are tired of seeingThe sword's hilt in my grasp, and that your courtSnatch eagerly at this pretence, and useThe Spanish title, and drain off my forces,To lead into the empire a new armyUnsubjected to my control? To throw mePlumply aside,—I am still too powerful for youTo venture that. My stipulation runs,That all the imperial forces shall obey meWhere'er the German is the native language.Of Spanish troops and of prince cardinals,That take their route as visitors, through the empire,There stands no syllable in my stipulation.No syllable! And so the politic courtSteals in on tiptoe, and creeps round behind it;First makes me weaker, then to be dispensed with,Till it dares strike at length a bolder blow,And make short work with me.What need of all these crooked ways, lord envoy?Straightforward, man! his compact with me pinchesThe emperor. He would that I moved off!Well! I will gratify him![Here there commences an agitation among the generals,which increases continually.It grieves me for my noble officers' sakes;I see not yet by what means they will come atThe moneys they have advanced, or how obtainThe recompense their services demand.Still a new leader brings new claimants forward,And prior merit superannuates quickly.There serve here many foreigners in the army,And were the man in all else brave and gallant,I was not wont to make nice scrutinyAfter his pedigree or catechism.This will be otherwise i' the time to come.Well; me no longer it concerns.[He seats himself.Forbid it, Heaven, that it should come to this!Our troops will swell in dreadful fermentation—The emperor is abused—it cannot be.
ISOLANI.It cannot be; all goes to instant wreck.
WALLENSTEIN.Thou hast said truly, faithful Isolani!What we with toil and foresight have built upWill go to wreck—all go to instant wreck.What then? Another chieftain is soon found,Another army likewise (who dares doubt it?)Will flock from all sides to the emperor,At the first beat of his recruiting drum.
[During this speech, ISOLANI, TERZKY, ILLO, and MARADAS talkconfusedly with great agitation.
MAX. PICCOLOMINI (busily and passionately going from one to another,and soothing them).Hear, my commander' Hear me, generals!Let me conjure you, duke! Determine nothing,Till we have met and represented to youOur joint remonstrances! Nay, calmer! Friends!I hope all may yet be set right again.
TERZKY.Away! let us away! in the antechamberFind we the others.[They go.
BUTLER (to QUESTENBERG).If good counsel gainDue audience from your wisdom, my lord envoy,You will be cautious how you show yourselfIn public for some hours to come—or hardlyWill that gold key protect you from maltreatment.
[Commotions heard from without.
WALLENSTEIN.A salutary counsel—Thou, Octavio!Wilt answer for the safety of our guest.Farewell, von Questenberg![QUESTENBURG is about to speak.Nay, not a word.Not one word more of that detested subject!You have performed your duty. We know nowTo separate the office from the man.
[AS QUESTENBERG is going off with OCTAVIO, GOETZ, TIEFENBACH,KOLATTO, press in, several other generals following them.
GOETZ.Where's he who means to rob us of our general?
TIEFENBACH (at the same time).What are we forced to bear? That thou wilt leave us?
KOLATTO (at the same time).We will live with thee, we will die with thee.
WALLENSTEIN (with stateliness, and pointing to ILLO).There! the field-marshal knows our will.[Exit.
[While all are going off the stage, the curtain drops.
A Small Chamber.
ILLO and TERZKY.
TERZKY.Now for this evening's business! How intend youTo manage with the generals at the banquet?
ILLO.Attend! We frame a formal declaration,Wherein we to the duke consign ourselvesCollectively, to be and to remainHis, both with life and limb, and not to spareThe last drop of our blood for him, provided,So doing we infringe no oath or dutyWe may be under to the emperor. Mark!This reservation we expressly makeIn a particular clause, and save the conscience.Now hear! this formula so framed and wordedWill be presented to them for perusalBefore the banquet. No one will find in itCause of offence or scruple. Hear now further!After the feast, when now the vapering wineOpens the heart, and shuts the eyes, we letA counterfeited paper, in the whichThis one particular clause has been left out,Go round for signatures.
TERZKY.How! think you thenThat they'll believe themselves bound by an oath,Which we have tricked them into by a juggle?
ILLO.We shall have caught and caged them! Let them thenBeat their wings bare against the wires, and raveLoud as they may against our treachery;At court their signatures will be believedFar more than their most holy affirmations.Traitors they are, and must be; therefore wiselyWill make a virtue of necessity.
TERZKY.Well, well, it shall content me: let but somethingBe done, let only some decisive blowSet us in motion.
ILLO.Besides, 'tis of subordinate importanceHow, or how far, we may thereby propelThe generals. 'Tis enough that we persuadeThe duke that they are his. Let him but actIn his determined mood, as if he had them,And he will have them. Where he plunges in,He makes a whirlpool, and all stream down to it.
TERZKY.His policy is such a labyrinth,That many a time when I have thought myselfClose at his side, he's gone at once, and left meIgnorant of the ground where I was standing.He lends the enemy his ear, permits meTo write to them, to Arnheim; to SesinaHimself comes forward blank and undisguised;Talks with us by the hour about his plans,And when I think I have him—off at once—He has slipped from me, and appears as ifHe had no scheme, but to retain his place.
ILLO.He give up his old plans! I'll tell you, friend!His soul is occupied with nothing else,Even in his sleep—they are his thoughts, his dreams,That day by day he questions for this purposeThe motions of the planets——
TERZKY.Ah! you knowThis night, that is now coming, he with Seni,Shuts himself up in the astrological towerTo make joint observations—for I hearIt is to be a night of weight and crisis;And something great, and of long expectation,Takes place in heaven.
ILLO.O that it might take placeOn earth! The generals are full of zeal,And would with ease be led to anythingRather than lose their chief. Observe, too, thatWe have at last a fair excuse before usTo form a close alliance 'gainst the court,Yet innocent its title, bearing simplyThat we support him only in command.But in the ardor of pursuit thou knowestMen soon forget the goal from which they started.The object I've in view is that the princeShall either find them, or believe them readyFor every hazard. OpportunityWill tempt him on. Be the great step once taken,Which at Vienna's court can ne'er be pardoned,The force of circumstances will lead him onwardThe farther still and farther. 'Tis the choiceThat makes him undecisive—come but need,And all his powers and wisdom will come with it.
TERZKY.'Tis this alone the enemy awaitsTo change their chief and join their force with ours.
ILLO.Come! be we bold and make despatch. The workIn this next day or two must thrive and growMore than it has for years. And let but onlyThings first turn up auspicious here below—Mark what I say—the right stars, too, will show themselves.Come to the generals. All is in the glow,And must be beaten while 'tis malleable.
TERZKY.Do you go thither, Illo? I must stayAnd wait here for the Countess Terzky. KnowThat we, too, are not idle. Break one string,A second is in readiness.
ILLO.Yes! yes!I saw your lady smile with such sly meaning.What's in the wind?
TERZKY.A secret. Hush! she comes.
[Exit ILLO.
The COUNTESS steps out from a closet.
COUNT and COUNTESS TERZKY.
TERZKY.Well—is she coming? I can keep him backNo longer.
COUNTESS.She will be here instantly,You only send him.
TERZKY.I am not quite certain,I must confess it, countess, whether or notWe are earning the duke's thanks hereby. You knowNo ray has broke out from him on this point.You have o'erruled me, and yourself know bestHow far you dare proceed.
COUNTESS.I take it on me.[Talking to herself while she is advancing.Here's no heed of full powers and commissions;My cloudy duke! we understand each other—And without words. What could I not unriddle,Wherefore the daughter should be sent for hither,Why first he, and no other should be chosenTo fetch her hither? This sham of betrothing herTo a bridegroom [9], whom no one knows—No! no!This may blind others! I see through thee, brother!But it beseems thee not to draw a cardAt such a game. Not yet! It all remainsMutely delivered up to my finessing.Well—thou shalt not have been deceived, Duke Friedland,In her who is thy sister.
SERVANT (enters).The commanders![Exit.
TERZKY (to the COUNTESS).Take care you heat his fancy and affections—Possess him with a reverie, and send him,Absent and dreaming to the banquet; thatHe may not boggle at the signature.
COUNTESS.Take care of your guests! Go, send him hither.
TERZKY.All rests upon his undersigning.
COUNTESS (interrupting him).Go to your guests! Go——
ILLO (comes back).Where art staying, Terzky?The house is full, and all expecting you.
TERZKY.Instantly! instantly![To the COUNTESS.And let him notStay here too long. It might awake suspicionIn the old man——
COUNTESS.A truce with your precautions!
[Exeunt TERZKY and ILLO.
MAX. (peeping in on the stage slyly).Aunt Terzky! may I venture?[Advances to the middle of the stage, and looks aroundhim with uneasiness.She's not here!Where is she?
COUNTESS.Look but somewhat narrowlyIn yonder corner, lest perhaps she lieConcealed behind that screen.
MAX.There lie her gloves!
[Snatches at them, but the COUNTESS takes them herself.
You unkind lady! You refuse me this,You make it an amusement to torment me.
COUNTESS.And this the thanks you give me for my trouble?
MAX.O, if you felt the oppression at my heart!Since we've been here, so to constrain myselfWith such poor stealth to hazard words and glances.These, these are not my habits!
COUNTESS.You have stillMany new habits to acquire, young friend!But on this proof of your obedient temperI must continue to insist; and onlyOn this condition can I play the agentFor your concerns.
MAX.But wherefore comes she not?Where is she?
COUNTESS.Into my hands you must place itWhole and entire. Whom could you find, indeed,More zealously affected to your interest?No soul on earth must know it—not your father;He must not, above all.
MAX.Alas! what danger?Here is no face on which I might concentreAll the enraptured soul stirs up within me.O lady! tell me, is all changed around me?Or is it only I?I find myself,As among strangers! Not a trace is leftOf all my former wishes, former joys.Where has it vanished to? There was a timeWhen even, methought, with such a world as this,I was not discontented. Now how flat!How stale! No life, no bloom, no flavor in it!My comrades are intolerable to me.My father—even to him I can say nothing.My arms, my military duties—O!They are such wearying toys!
COUNTESS.But gentle friend!I must entreat it of your condescension,You would be pleased to sink your eye, and favorWith one short glance or two this poor stale world,Where even now much, and of much moment,Is on the eve of its completion.
MAX.Something,I can't but know is going forward round me.I see it gathering, crowding, driving on,In wild uncustomary movements. Well,In due time, doubtless, it will reach even me.Where think you I have been, dear lady? Nay,No raillery. The turmoil of the camp,The spring-tide of acquaintance rolling in,The pointless jest, the empty conversation,Oppressed and stifled me. I gasped for air—I could not breathe—I was constrained to fly,To seek a silence out for my full heart;And a pure spot wherein to feel my happiness.No smiling, countess! In the church was I.There is a cloister here "To the heaven's gate," [10]Thither I went, there found myself alone.Over the altar hung a holy mother;A wretched painting 'twas, yet 'twas the friendThat I was seeking in this moment. Ah,How oft have I beheld that glorious formIn splendor, 'mid ecstatic worshippers;Yet, still it moved me not! and now at onceWas my devotion cloudless as my love.
COUNTESS.Enjoy your fortune and felicity!Forget the world around you. Meantime, friendshipShall keep strict vigils for you, anxious, active.Only be manageable when that friendshipPoints you the road to full accomplishment.
MAX.But where abides she then? Oh, golden timeOf travel, when each morning sun unitedAnd but the coming night divided us;Then ran no sand, then struck no hour for us,And time, in our excess of happiness,Seemed on its course eternal to stand still.Oh, he hath fallen from out his heaven of blissWho can descend to count the changing hours,No clock strikes ever for the happy!
COUNTESS.How long is it since you declared your passion?
MAX.This morning did I hazard the first word.
COUNTESS.This morning the first time in twenty days?
MAX.'Twas at that hunting-castle, betwixt hereAnd Nepomuck, where you had joined us, andThat was the last relay of the whole journey;In a balcony we were standing mute,And gazing out upon the dreary fieldBefore us the dragoons were riding onward,The safeguard which the duke had sent us—heavy;The inquietude of parting lay upon me,And trembling ventured at length these words:This all reminds me, noble maiden, thatTo-day I must take leave of my good fortune.A few hours more, and you will find a father,Will see yourself surrounded by new friends,And I henceforth shall be but as a stranger,Lost in the many—"Speak with my Aunt Terzky!"With hurrying voice she interrupted me.She faltered. I beheld a glowing redPossess her beautiful cheeks, and from the groundRaised slowly up her eye met mine—no longerDid I control myself.[The Princess THEKLA appears at the door, and remains standing,observed by the COUNTESS, but not by PICCOLOMINI.With instant boldnessI caught her in my arms, my lips touched hers;There was a rustling in the room close by;It parted us—'Twas you. What since has happenedYou know.
COUNTESS (after a pause, with a stolen glance at THEKLA).And is it your excess of modestyOr are you so incurious, that you do notAsk me too of my secret?