Before 2 Octavio (with an air of mystery). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Before 3 Isolani (assuming the same air of mystery). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Isolani (with an air of defiance). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Before 32 Isolani (stammering). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Hem 1800, 1828, 1829.
must 1800, 1828, 1829.
will 1800, 1828, 1829.
Scene V
Octavio Piccolomini, Butler.
Returned the advances which I made you yesterday—
Misunderstood them, as mere empty forms. 5
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.
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. 15
You came through Frauenberg. Did the Count Galas
Say nothing to you? Tell me. He's my friend.
[717] To hear it: for his counsel was most wise.
I had myself the like to offer.
Yourself the trouble—me th' embarrassment,
To have deserved so ill your good opinion.
You know how matters stand here. Wallenstein
Meditates treason—I can tell you further— 25
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 30
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— 35
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? 40
As yet you have time. Within my faithful breast
That rashly uttered word remains interred.
Recall it, Butler! choose a better party: 45
You have not chosen the right one.
Commands for me, Lieutenant-General?
In such a cause? Into a curse would you 50
Transform the gratitude which you have earned
By forty years' fidelity from Austria?
Butler!
And your petition was repelled—Was it so?
Draw!
How all that happened. I will not refuse you 60
Your satisfaction afterwards.—Calmly, Butler!
For which I never can forgive myself.
Lieutenant-General! Yes—I have ambition.
Ne'er was I able to endure contempt. 65
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! 70
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 grey-haired man, the faithful veteran? 75
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. 80
The enemy, who did you this ill service?
Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard,
Some young squire of some ancient family, 85
In whose light I may stand, some envious knave,
Stung to his soul by my fair self-earned honours!
In my behalf with all the warmth of friendship. 90
By chance I'm in possession of that letter—
Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you. [He gives him the letter.
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, 100
For so he calls it.
[Butler reads through the letter, his knees tremble, he seizes a chair, and sinks down 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 105
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 110
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!
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. 120
The regiment, which you now command, is yours.
[Butler attempts to rise, sinks down again. He labours inwardly with violent emotions; tries to speak, and cannot. At length he takes his sword from the belt, and offers it to Piccolomini.
I am no longer worthy of this sword.
Wear it with honour for the right cause ever.
All who are loyal are assembling under
Counts Altringer and Galas. Many others
I've brought to a remembrance of their duty.
This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen. 135
Of honour to you, who once broke his troth?
What are you brooding?
Ask me no more at present. Trust to me.
Ye may trust safely. By the living God
Ye give him over, not to his good angel! 145
Farewell. [Exit Butler.
The Prince-Duke's horses wait for you below. [Exit Servant.
—O that I had but left this town behind me.
To split upon a rock so near the haven!— 150
Away! This is no longer a safe place for me!
Where can my son be tarrying?
FOOTNOTES:
[718:1] It probably did not suit Schiller's purposes to remark, what he doubtless knew, that Butler was of a noble Irish family, indeed one of the noblest. MS. R.
LINENOTES:
me 1800, 1828, 1829.
Octavio (coldly). 1800, 1828, 1829.
After 92 [Butler is suddenly struck. 1800, 1828, 1829.
Before 115 Butler (his voice trembling). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Before 136 Butler (strides up and down in excessive agitation, then steps up to Octavio with resolved countenance). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Scene VI
Octavio and Max Piccolomini.
My son, farewell.
Thy way is crooked—it is not my way. [Octavio drops his hand, and starts back.
O, hadst thou been but simple and sincere,
Ne'er had it come to this—all had stood otherwise. 5
He had not done that foul and horrible deed,
The virtuous had retained their influence o'er him:
He had not fallen into the snares of villains.
Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice
Did'st creep behind him—lurking for thy prey? 10
O, unblest falsehood! Mother of all evil!
Thou misery-making demon, it is thou
That sink'st us in perdition. Simple truth,
Sustainer of the world, had saved us all!
Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee! 15
Wallenstein has deceived me—O, most foully!
But thou hast acted not much better.
My son, ah! I forgive thy agony!
Had'st thou the heart to drive it to such lengths, 20
With cold premeditated purpose? Thou—
Had'st thou the heart, to wish to see him guilty,
Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall.
Octavio, 'twill not please me.
[722] How comes suspicion here—in the free soul?
Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all
Lied to me, all what I e'er loved or honoured.
No! No! Not all! She—she yet lives for me,
And she is true, and open as the Heavens! 30
Deceit is every where, hypocrisy,
Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury:
The single holy spot is now our love,
The only unprofaned in human nature.
The very last—no never!
The pang of necessary separation.
Come with me! Come, my son! [Attempts to take him with him.
Laws to the heart; and would'st thou wish to rob me 45
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! 50
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 55
Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words
Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death!
O, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue.
The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it.
If thou—my son—my own blood—(dare I think it?)
[723] Do sell thyself to him, the infamous,
Do stamp this brand upon our noble house, 65
Then shall the world behold the horrible deed,
And in unnatural combat shall the steel
Of the son trickle with the father's blood.
Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion! 70
Unholy miserable doubt! To him
Nothing on earth remains unwrenched and firm,
Who has no faith.
Will it be always in thy power to follow it?
Will Wallenstein be able to o'erpower it.
I leave thee here, the Lothrings too; Toskana 80
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 honour.
In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen.
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. 90
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.
LINENOTES:
Before 1 (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). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Before 19 Max (rises and contemplates his father with looks of suspicion). 1800, 1828, 1829.
what] that 1828, 1829.
The single holy spot is our love 1800.
Before 41 Octavio (more urgently). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Before 62 Octavio (trembling, and losing all self-command). 1800, 1828, 1829.
think 1800.
thou 1800.
THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN
A TRAGEDY
IN FIVE ACTS
PREFACE OF THE TRANSLATOR
TO THE FIRST EDITION
The two Dramas, Piccolomini, or the first part of
Wallenstein, and Wallenstein, are introduced in the original
manuscript by a Prelude in one Act, entitled Wallenstein's
Camp. This is written in rhyme, and in nine-syllable verse, in
the same lilting metre (if that expression may be permitted) 5
with the second Eclogue of Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar.
This Prelude possesses a sort of broad humour, and is not
deficient in character; but to have translated it into prose, or
into any other metre than that of the original, would have
given a false notion both of its style and purport; to have 10
translated it into the same metre would have been incompatible with
a faithful adherence to the sense of the German, from the
comparative poverty of our language in rhymes; and it would have
been unadvisable from the incongruity of those lax verses with
the present taste of the English Public. Schiller's intention 15
seems to have been merely to have prepared his reader for the
Tragedies by a lively picture of the laxity of discipline, and the
mutinous dispositions of Wallenstein's soldiery. It is not
necessary as a preliminary explanation. For these reasons it
has been thought expedient not to translate it. 20
The admirers of Schiller, who have abstracted their conception
of that author from the Robbers, and the Cabal and Love, plays
in which the main interest is produced by the excitement of
curiosity, and in which the curiosity is excited by terrible and
extraordinary incident, will not have perused without some 25
portion of disappointment the Dramas, which it has been my
employment to translate. They should, however, reflect that
these are Historical Dramas, taken from a popular German
History; that we must therefore judge of them in some measure
with the feelings of Germans; or by analogy, with the interest 30
excited in us by similar Dramas in our own language. Few,
I trust, would be rash or ignorant enough to compare Schiller
with Shakspeare yet, merely as illustration, I would say
that we should proceed to the perusal of Wallenstein, not
from Lear or Othello, but from Richard the Second, or the 35
three parts of Henry the Sixth. We scarcely expect rapidity
in an Historical Drama; and many prolix speeches are
pardoned from characters, whose names and actions have
formed the most amusing tales of our early life. On the other
hand, there exist in these plays more individual beauties, 40
more passages the excellence of which will bear reflection,
than in the former productions of Schiller. The description of
the Astrological Tower, and the reflections of the Young Lover,
which follow it, form in the original a fine poem; and my
translation must have been wretched indeed, if it can have 45
wholly overclouded the beauties of the Scene in the first Act of
the first Play between Questenberg, Max, and Octavio Piccolomini.
If we except the Scene of the setting sun in the Robbers,
I know of no part in Schiller's Plays which equals the whole
of the first Scene of the fifth Act of the concluding Play. It 50
would be unbecoming in me to be more diffuse on this subject.
A Translator stands connected with the original Author by
a certain law of subordination, which makes it more decorous
to point out excellencies than defects: indeed he is not likely
to be a fair judge of either. The pleasure or disgust from his 55
own labour will mingle with the feelings that arise from an
afterview of the original. Even in the first perusal of a work
in any foreign language which we understand, we are apt to
attribute to it more excellence than it really possesses from our
own pleasurable sense of difficulty overcome without effect. 60
Translation of poetry into poetry is difficult, because the
Translator must give a brilliancy to his language without that warmth
of original conception, from which such brilliancy would follow
of its own accord. But the translator of a living Author is
encumbered with additional inconveniences. If he render his 65
original faithfully, as to the sense of each passage, he must
necessarily destroy a considerable portion of the spirit; if he
endeavour to give a work executed according to laws of
compensation, he subjects himself to imputations of vanity, or
misrepresentation. I have thought it my duty to remain 70
bound by the sense of my original, with as few exceptions as
the nature of the languages rendered possible.
LINENOTES:
Title] Part Second. The Death of Wallenstein. A Tragedy. The Death of Wallenstein. Preface of the Translator. 1828, 1829.
notion] idea 1800, 1828, 1829.
conception] idea 1800, 1828, 1829.
the excellence of which] whose excellence 1800, 1828, 1829.
effect] effort 1834.
sense] sense 1800, 1828, 1829.
spirit] spirit 1800, 1828, 1829.
compensation] compensation 1800, 1828, 1829.
After 72 S. T. Coleridge 1800, 1828, 1829.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
| Wallenstein, Duke of Friedland, Generalissimo of the Imperial Forces in the Thirty Years' War. | |||
| Duchess of Friedland, Wife of Wallenstein. | |||
| Thekla, her Daughter, Princess of Friedland. | |||
| The Countess Tertsky, Sister of the Duchess. | |||
| Lady Neubrunn. | |||
| Octavio Piccolomini, Lieutenant-General. | |||
| Max Piccolomini, his Son, Colonel of a Regiment of Cuirassiers. | |||
| Count Tertsky, the Commander of several Regiments, and Brother-in-law of Wallenstein. | |||
| Illo, Field Marshal, Wallenstein's confidant. | |||
| Butler, an Irishman, Commander of a Regiment of Dragoons. | |||
| Gordon, Governor of Egra. | |||
| Major Geraldin. | |||
| Captain Devereux. | |||
| Captain Macdonald. | |||
| Neumann, Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp to Tertsky. | |||
| Swedish Captain. | |||
| Seni. | |||
| Burgomaster of Egra. | |||
| Anspessade of the Cuirassiers. | |||
| Groom of the Chamber, A Page, |
|
belonging to the Duke. | |
| Cuirassiers, Dragoons, Servants. | |||
THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN
ACT I
Scene I
Scene—A Chamber in the House of the Duchess of Friedland.
Countess Tertsky, Thekla, Lady Neubrunn (the two latter sit at the same table at work).