SCENE V.
QUESTENBERG, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI.
QUESTENBERG.
Alas! alas! and stands it so?
[Then in pressing and impatient tones.
What friend! and do we let him go away
In this delusion—let him go away?
Not call him back immediately, not open
His 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 up
The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes
Are 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 not
Foresee it, not prevent this journey! Wherefore
Did 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 hour
Which he appointed you for audience. Come!
A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey!
[He leads QUESTENBERG off.
QUESTENBERG.
Alas! alas! and stands it so?
[Then in pressing and impatient tones.
What friend! and do we let him go away
In this delusion—let him go away?
Not call him back immediately, not open
His 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 up
The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes
Are 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 not
Foresee it, not prevent this journey! Wherefore
Did 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 hour
Which he appointed you for audience. Come!
A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey!
[He leads QUESTENBERG off.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
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, till
he 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 oversteps
The 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 man
Is mingled up of good and evil, so
The five is the first number that's made up
Of 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.
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, till
he 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 oversteps
The 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 man
Is mingled up of good and evil, so
The five is the first number that's made up
Of 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.
SCENE II.
WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.
WALLENSTEIN.
You went, then, through Vienna, were presented
To the Queen of Hungary?
DUCHESS.
Yes; and to the empress, too,
And by both majesties were we admitted
To kiss the hand.
WALLENSTEIN.
And how was it received,
That I had sent for wife and daughter hither
To the camp, in winter-time?
DUCHESS.
I did even that
Which you commissioned me to do. I told them
You 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 fallen
Upon 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 complexion
Was 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-worm
Has 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 place
Of condescending, confidential kindness,
Familiar and endearing, there were given me
Only 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 conduct
They 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 Hungary
Used 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 taken
My formal leave, and when the door already
Had closed upon me, then did she come out
In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,
And pressed me to her bosom, more with anguish
Than 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 wont
To plead so warmly for me?
DUCHESS.
Silent, silent!
WALLENSTEIN.
These suns then are eclipsed for us. Henceforward
Must we roll on, our own fire, our own light.
DUCHESS.
And were it—were it, my dear lord, in that
Which moved about the court in buzz and whisper,
But in the country let itself be heard
Aloud—in that which Father Lanormain
In sundry hints and——
WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).
Lanormain! what said he?
DUCHESS.
That you're accused of having daringly
O'erstepped the powers intrusted to you, charged
With traitorous contempt of the emperor
And his supreme behests. The proud Bavarian,
He and the Spaniards stand up your accusers—
That there's a storm collecting over you
Of far more fearful menace than the former one
Which 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 disgraceful
Dismission.
WALLENSTEIN.
Talk they?
[Strides across the chamber in vehement agitation.
Oh! they force, they thrust me
With violence, against my own will, onward!
DUCHESS (presses near him in entreaty).
Oh! if there yet be time, my husband, if
By giving way and by submission, this
Can 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 longer
Low trickling malice blacken your good meaning
With abhorred venomous glosses. Stand you up
Shielded and helmed and weaponed with the truth,
And drive before you into uttermost shame
These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have we—
You know it! The swift growth of our good fortune
It hath but set us up a mark for hatred.
What are we, if the sovereign's grace and favor
Stand not before us!
WALLENSTEIN.
You went, then, through Vienna, were presented
To the Queen of Hungary?
DUCHESS.
Yes; and to the empress, too,
And by both majesties were we admitted
To kiss the hand.
WALLENSTEIN.
And how was it received,
That I had sent for wife and daughter hither
To the camp, in winter-time?
DUCHESS.
I did even that
Which you commissioned me to do. I told them
You 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 fallen
Upon 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 complexion
Was 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-worm
Has 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 place
Of condescending, confidential kindness,
Familiar and endearing, there were given me
Only 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 conduct
They 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 Hungary
Used 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 taken
My formal leave, and when the door already
Had closed upon me, then did she come out
In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,
And pressed me to her bosom, more with anguish
Than 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 wont
To plead so warmly for me?
DUCHESS.
Silent, silent!
WALLENSTEIN.
These suns then are eclipsed for us. Henceforward
Must we roll on, our own fire, our own light.
DUCHESS.
And were it—were it, my dear lord, in that
Which moved about the court in buzz and whisper,
But in the country let itself be heard
Aloud—in that which Father Lanormain
In sundry hints and——
WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).
Lanormain! what said he?
DUCHESS.
That you're accused of having daringly
O'erstepped the powers intrusted to you, charged
With traitorous contempt of the emperor
And his supreme behests. The proud Bavarian,
He and the Spaniards stand up your accusers—
That there's a storm collecting over you
Of far more fearful menace than the former one
Which 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 disgraceful
Dismission.
WALLENSTEIN.
Talk they?
[Strides across the chamber in vehement agitation.
Oh! they force, they thrust me
With violence, against my own will, onward!
DUCHESS (presses near him in entreaty).
Oh! if there yet be time, my husband, if
By giving way and by submission, this
Can 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 longer
Low trickling malice blacken your good meaning
With abhorred venomous glosses. Stand you up
Shielded and helmed and weaponed with the truth,
And drive before you into uttermost shame
These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have we—
You know it! The swift growth of our good fortune
It hath but set us up a mark for hatred.
What are we, if the sovereign's grace and favor
Stand not before us!
SCENE III.
Enter the Countess TERZKY, leading in her hand the Princess THEKLA,
richly adorned with brilliants.
COUNTESS, TEKLA, WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.
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 first
Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!
This is thy daughter.
[THEKLA approaches with a shy and timid air, and bends herself as
about to kiss his hand. He receives her in his arms, and remains
standing 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 departed
To raise up that great army for the emperor
And 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 while
We in the field here gave our cares and toils
To make her great, and fight her a free way
To the loftiest earthly good; lo! mother Nature
Within the peaceful, silent convent walls,
Has done her part, and out of her free grace
Hath she bestowed on the beloved child
The god-like; and now leads her thus adorned
To 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 years
When 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 falsifies
No feature of the image that hath lived
So 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 be
Heir of my name and of my prosperous fortune,
And re-illume my soon-extinguished being
In a proud line of princes.
I wronged my destiny. Here upon this head,
So lovely in its maiden bloom, will I
Let 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.
richly adorned with brilliants.
COUNTESS, TEKLA, WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.
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 first
Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!
This is thy daughter.
[THEKLA approaches with a shy and timid air, and bends herself as
about to kiss his hand. He receives her in his arms, and remains
standing 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 departed
To raise up that great army for the emperor
And 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 while
We in the field here gave our cares and toils
To make her great, and fight her a free way
To the loftiest earthly good; lo! mother Nature
Within the peaceful, silent convent walls,
Has done her part, and out of her free grace
Hath she bestowed on the beloved child
The god-like; and now leads her thus adorned
To 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 years
When 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 falsifies
No feature of the image that hath lived
So 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 be
Heir of my name and of my prosperous fortune,
And re-illume my soon-extinguished being
In a proud line of princes.
I wronged my destiny. Here upon this head,
So lovely in its maiden bloom, will I
Let 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.
SCENE IV.
Enter MAX. PICCOLOMINI, and some time after COUNT TERZKY, the
others remaining as before.
COUNTESS.
There comes the Paladin who protected us.
WALLENSTEIN.
Max.! Welcome, ever welcome! Always wert thou
The 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 bound
The 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 delivered
The mother and the daughter to your arms,
But there is brought to me from your equerry 6 A splendid richly-plated hunting dress
So to remunerate me for my troubles—
Yes, yes, remunerate me,—since a trouble
It must be, a mere office, not a favor
Which I leaped forward to receive, and which
I came with grateful heart to thank you for.
No! 'twas not so intended, that my business
Should be my highest best good fortune!
[TERZKY enters; and delivers letters to the DUKE, which he
breaks open hurriedly.
COUNTESS (to MAX.).
Remunerate your trouble! For his joy,
He makes you recompense. 'Tis not unfitting
For you, Count Piccolomini, to feel
So tenderly—my brother it beseems
To show himself forever great and princely.
THEKLA.
Then I too must have scruples of his love:
For his munificent hands did ornament me
Ere yet the father's heart had spoken to me.
MAX
Yes; 'tis his nature ever to be giving
And making happy.
[He grasps the hand of the DUCHESS with still increasing warmth.
How my heart pours out
Its all of thanks to him! O! how I seem
To utter all things in the dear name—Friedland.
While I shall live, so long will I remain
The captive of this name: in it shall bloom
My every fortune, every lovely hope.
Inextricably as in some magic ring
In 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 speaks
with 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 COUNTESS
accompanies the PRINCESS.
TERZKY (calling after him).
Max., we depend on seeing you at the meeting.
others remaining as before.
COUNTESS.
There comes the Paladin who protected us.
WALLENSTEIN.
Max.! Welcome, ever welcome! Always wert thou
The 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 bound
The 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 delivered
The mother and the daughter to your arms,
But there is brought to me from your equerry 6 A splendid richly-plated hunting dress
So to remunerate me for my troubles—
Yes, yes, remunerate me,—since a trouble
It must be, a mere office, not a favor
Which I leaped forward to receive, and which
I came with grateful heart to thank you for.
No! 'twas not so intended, that my business
Should be my highest best good fortune!
[TERZKY enters; and delivers letters to the DUKE, which he
breaks open hurriedly.
COUNTESS (to MAX.).
Remunerate your trouble! For his joy,
He makes you recompense. 'Tis not unfitting
For you, Count Piccolomini, to feel
So tenderly—my brother it beseems
To show himself forever great and princely.
THEKLA.
Then I too must have scruples of his love:
For his munificent hands did ornament me
Ere yet the father's heart had spoken to me.
MAX
Yes; 'tis his nature ever to be giving
And making happy.
[He grasps the hand of the DUCHESS with still increasing warmth.
How my heart pours out
Its all of thanks to him! O! how I seem
To utter all things in the dear name—Friedland.
While I shall live, so long will I remain
The captive of this name: in it shall bloom
My every fortune, every lovely hope.
Inextricably as in some magic ring
In 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 speaks
with 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 COUNTESS
accompanies the PRINCESS.
TERZKY (calling after him).
Max., we depend on seeing you at the meeting.
SCENE V.
WALLENSTEIN, COUNT TERZKY.
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 us
They think themselves already fairly rid,
And as we were deceased, the heir already
Is 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 if
Thou loiterest longer, all will fall away,
One following the other.
WALLENSTEIN.
Altringer
Is master of the Tyrol passes. I must forthwith
Send some one to him, that he let not in
The Spaniards on me from the Milanese.
—Well, and the old Sesin, that ancient trader
In contraband negotiations, he
Has shown himself again of late. What brings he
From the Count Thur?
TERZKY.
The count communicates
He has found out the Swedish chancellor
At Halberstadt, where the convention's held,
Who says, you've tired him out, and that he'll have
No 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 them
With a paltry sum of money.
WALLENSTEIN.
So then, doubtless,
Yes, doubtless, this same modest Swede expects
That I shall yield him some fair German tract
For his prey and booty, that ourselves at last
On our own soil and native territory
May 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 win
The 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 parcelled
My native land away, dismembered Germany,
Betrayed it to a foreigner, in order
To come with stealthy tread, and filch away
My 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 glances
Toward 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 draught
Shall they come in for.
TERZKY.
You will deal, however,
More fairly with the Saxons? they lose patience
While you shift round and make so many curves.
Say, to what purpose all these masks? Your friends
Are plunged in doubts, baffled, and led astray in you.
There's Oxenstiern, there's Arnheim—neither knows
What he should think of your procrastinations,
And in the end I prove the liar; all
Passes 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 all
Your intercourses hitherto with the enemy,
You might have done with safety all you have done.
Had you meant nothing further than to gull him
For the emperor's service.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause, during which he looks narrowly on TERZKY).
And from whence dost thou know
That 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 thee
The intendant of my secret purposes?
I am not conscious that I ever opened
My inmost thoughts to thee. The emperor, it is true,
Hath dealt with me amiss; and if I would
I could repay him with usurious interest
For the evil he hath done me. It delights me
To know my power; but whether I shall use it,
Of that I should have thought that thou couldst speak
No wiser than thy fellows.
TERZKY.
So hast thou always played thy game with us.
[Enter ILLO.
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 us
They think themselves already fairly rid,
And as we were deceased, the heir already
Is 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 if
Thou loiterest longer, all will fall away,
One following the other.
WALLENSTEIN.
Altringer
Is master of the Tyrol passes. I must forthwith
Send some one to him, that he let not in
The Spaniards on me from the Milanese.
—Well, and the old Sesin, that ancient trader
In contraband negotiations, he
Has shown himself again of late. What brings he
From the Count Thur?
TERZKY.
The count communicates
He has found out the Swedish chancellor
At Halberstadt, where the convention's held,
Who says, you've tired him out, and that he'll have
No 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 them
With a paltry sum of money.
WALLENSTEIN.
So then, doubtless,
Yes, doubtless, this same modest Swede expects
That I shall yield him some fair German tract
For his prey and booty, that ourselves at last
On our own soil and native territory
May 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 win
The 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 parcelled
My native land away, dismembered Germany,
Betrayed it to a foreigner, in order
To come with stealthy tread, and filch away
My 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 glances
Toward 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 draught
Shall they come in for.
TERZKY.
You will deal, however,
More fairly with the Saxons? they lose patience
While you shift round and make so many curves.
Say, to what purpose all these masks? Your friends
Are plunged in doubts, baffled, and led astray in you.
There's Oxenstiern, there's Arnheim—neither knows
What he should think of your procrastinations,
And in the end I prove the liar; all
Passes 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 all
Your intercourses hitherto with the enemy,
You might have done with safety all you have done.
Had you meant nothing further than to gull him
For the emperor's service.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause, during which he looks narrowly on TERZKY).
And from whence dost thou know
That 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 thee
The intendant of my secret purposes?
I am not conscious that I ever opened
My inmost thoughts to thee. The emperor, it is true,
Hath dealt with me amiss; and if I would
I could repay him with usurious interest
For the evil he hath done me. It delights me
To know my power; but whether I shall use it,
Of that I should have thought that thou couldst speak
No wiser than thy fellows.
TERZKY.
So hast thou always played thy game with us.
[Enter ILLO.
SCENE VI.
ILLO, WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY.
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 thou
Made 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 yet
I 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 hear
They mean to send a deputation to you.
WALLENSTEIN.
If I'm in aught to bind myself to them
They 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, promising
Devotion to my service unconditional.
ILLO.
Why not?
TERZKY.
Devotion unconditional?
The exception of their duties towards Austria
They'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 banquet
This evening?
TERZKY.
Yes; and all the generals
Have been invited.
ILLO (to WALLENSTEIN).
Say, will you here fully
Commission 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 here
Give themselves up to you, without condition;
Say, will you then—then will you show yourself
In earnest, and with some decisive action
Try your fortune.
WALLENSTEIN.
Get but the signatures!
ILLO.
Think what thou dost, thou canst not execute
The 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 spurn
The 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 act
Anticipate their ends, or, doubting still,
Await the extremity?
WALLENSTEIN.
There's time before
The extremity arrives.
ILLO.
Seize, seize the hour,
Ere it slips from you. Seldom comes the moment
In 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 met
May by that confluence be enforced to pause
Time 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 fortune
Hath woven together in one potent web
Instinct with destiny, O! let them not
Unravel of themselves. If you permit
These chiefs to separate, so unanimous
Bring you them not a second time together.
'Tis the high tide that heaves the stranded ship,
And every individual's spirit waxes
In the great stream of multitudes. Behold
They are still here, here still! But soon the war
Bursts them once more asunder, and in small
Particular anxieties and interests
Scatters their spirit, and the sympathy
Of each man with the whole. He who to-day
Forgets himself, forced onward with the stream,
Will become sober, seeing but himself.
Feel only his own weakness, and with speed
Will face about, and march on in the old
High 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 oft
And 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 wan
Lead-colored shine lighted thee into life.
The common, the terrestrial, thou mayest see,
With serviceable cunning knit together,
The nearest with the nearest; and therein
I trust thee and believe thee! but whate'er
Full 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 powers
Move up and down on heavenly ministries—
The circles in the circles, that approach
The 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 merely
The day and nights, summer and spring, not merely
Signify to the husbandman the seasons
Of sowing and of harvest. Human action,
That is the seed, too, of contingencies,
Strewed on the dark land of futurity
In hopes to reconcile the powers of fate
Whence 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 thriving
Hide himself not, malignant, in his corner.
Therefore permit me my own time. Meanwhile
Do you your part. As yet I cannot say
What I shall do—only, give way I will not,
Depose me, too, they shall not. On these points
You 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 Piccolomini
Maradas, 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 none
But with Octavio.
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 thou
Made 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 yet
I 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 hear
They mean to send a deputation to you.
WALLENSTEIN.
If I'm in aught to bind myself to them
They 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, promising
Devotion to my service unconditional.
ILLO.
Why not?
TERZKY.
Devotion unconditional?
The exception of their duties towards Austria
They'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 banquet
This evening?
TERZKY.
Yes; and all the generals
Have been invited.
ILLO (to WALLENSTEIN).
Say, will you here fully
Commission 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 here
Give themselves up to you, without condition;
Say, will you then—then will you show yourself
In earnest, and with some decisive action
Try your fortune.
WALLENSTEIN.
Get but the signatures!
ILLO.
Think what thou dost, thou canst not execute
The 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 spurn
The 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 act
Anticipate their ends, or, doubting still,
Await the extremity?
WALLENSTEIN.
There's time before
The extremity arrives.
ILLO.
Seize, seize the hour,
Ere it slips from you. Seldom comes the moment
In 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 met
May by that confluence be enforced to pause
Time 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 fortune
Hath woven together in one potent web
Instinct with destiny, O! let them not
Unravel of themselves. If you permit
These chiefs to separate, so unanimous
Bring you them not a second time together.
'Tis the high tide that heaves the stranded ship,
And every individual's spirit waxes
In the great stream of multitudes. Behold
They are still here, here still! But soon the war
Bursts them once more asunder, and in small
Particular anxieties and interests
Scatters their spirit, and the sympathy
Of each man with the whole. He who to-day
Forgets himself, forced onward with the stream,
Will become sober, seeing but himself.
Feel only his own weakness, and with speed
Will face about, and march on in the old
High 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 oft
And 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 wan
Lead-colored shine lighted thee into life.
The common, the terrestrial, thou mayest see,
With serviceable cunning knit together,
The nearest with the nearest; and therein
I trust thee and believe thee! but whate'er
Full 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 powers
Move up and down on heavenly ministries—
The circles in the circles, that approach
The 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 merely
The day and nights, summer and spring, not merely
Signify to the husbandman the seasons
Of sowing and of harvest. Human action,
That is the seed, too, of contingencies,
Strewed on the dark land of futurity
In hopes to reconcile the powers of fate
Whence 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 thriving
Hide himself not, malignant, in his corner.
Therefore permit me my own time. Meanwhile
Do you your part. As yet I cannot say
What I shall do—only, give way I will not,
Depose me, too, they shall not. On these points
You 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 Piccolomini
Maradas, 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 none
But with Octavio.
SCENE VII.
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 generals
Should hear the will of the emperor from your mouth.
May it please you then to open your commission
Before these noble chieftains?
QUESTENBERG.
I am ready
To obey you; but will first entreat your highness,
And all these noble chieftains, to consider,
The imperial dignity and sovereign right
Speaks from my mouth, and not my own presumption.
WALLENSTEIN.
We excuse all preface.
QUESTENBERG.
When his majesty
The emperor to his courageous armies
Presented in the person of Duke Friedland
A most experienced and renowned commander,
He did it in glad hope and confidence
To give thereby to the fortune of the war
A rapid and auspicious change. The onset
Was favorable to his royal wishes.
Bohemia was delivered from the Saxons,
The Swede's career of conquest checked! These lands
Began to draw breath freely, as Duke Friedland
From all the streams of Germany forced hither
The scattered armies of the enemy;
Hither invoked as round one magic circle
The 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 spirit
At once proclaimed to us the new commander.
No longer strove blind rage with rage more blind;
But in the enlightened field of skill was shown
How fortitude can triumph over boldness,
And scientific art outweary courage.
In vain they tempt him to the fight. He only
Entrenches him still deeper in his hold,
As if to build an everlasting fortress.
At length grown desperate, now, the king resolves
To 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 fence
Death lurks within a thousand mouths of fire,
He yet unconquered strives to storm his way.
There was attack, and there resistance, such
As mortal eye had never seen before;
Repulsed at last, the king withdrew his troops
From this so murderous field, and not a foot
Of 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 left
His fame—in Luetzen's plains his life. But who
Stood not astounded, when victorious Friedland
After 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 way
Into Franconia, to the Danube, like
Some delving winter-stream, which, where it rushes,
Makes its own channel; with such sudden speed
He marched, and now at once 'fore Regensburg
Stood to the affright of all good Catholic Christians.
Then did Bavaria's well-deserving prince
Entreat swift aidance in his extreme need;
The emperor sends seven horsemen to Duke Friedland,
Seven horsemen couriers sends he with the entreaty
He superadds his own, and supplicates
Where as the sovereign lord he can command.
In vain his supplication! At this moment
The duke hears only his old hate and grudge,
Barters the general good to gratify
Private revenge—and so falls Regensburg.
WALLENSTEIN.
Max., to what period of the war alludes he?
My recollection fails me here.
MAX.
He means
When we were in Silesia.
WALLENSTEIN.
Ay! is it so!
But what had we to do there?
MAX.
To beat out
The 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 regain
What on the Danube shamefully was lost.
We looked for deeds of all-astounding grandeur
Upon a theatre of war, on which
A Friedland led in person to the field,
And the famed rival of the great Gustavus
Had but a Thurn and Arnheim to oppose him!
Yet the encounter of their mighty hosts
Served 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 commander
To spare the costs of fighting useless battles
Merely to show that he knows how to conquer.
It would have little helped my fame to boast
Of conquest o'er an Arnheim; but far more
Would my forbearance have availed my country,
Had I succeeded to dissolve the alliance
Existing 'twixt the Saxon and the Swede.
QUESTENBERG.
But you did not succeed, and so commenced
The fearful strife anew. And here at length,
Beside the river Oder did the duke
Assert his ancient fame. Upon the fields
Of Steinau did the Swedes lay down their arms,
Subdued without a blow. And here, with others,
The righteousness of heaven to his avenger
Delivered that long-practised stirrer-up
Of insurrection, that curse-laden torch
And kindler of this war, Matthias Thurn.
But he had fallen into magnanimous hands
Instead of punishment he found reward,
And with rich presents did the duke dismiss
The arch-foe of his emperor.
WALLENSTEIN (laughs).
I know,
I know you had already in Vienna
Your windows and your balconies forestalled
To see him on the executioner's cart.
I might have lost the battle, lost it too
With 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 Silesia
Was freed, and all things loudly called the duke
Into Bavaria, now pressed hard on all sides.
And he did put his troops in motion: slowly,
Quite at his ease, and by the longest road
He traverses Bohemia; but ere ever
He hath once seen the enemy, faces round,
Breaks up the march, and takes to winter-quarters.
WALLENSTEIN.
The troops were pitiably destitute
Of every necessary, every comfort,
The winter came. What thinks his majesty
His troops are made of? Aren't we men; subjected
Like other men to wet, and cold, and all
The 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 curse
Follows him on his route. All must be seized.
Nothing is given him. And compelled to seize
From every man he's every man's abhorrence.
Behold, here stand my generals. Karaffa!
Count Deodati! Butler! Tell this man
How long the soldier's pay is in arrears.
BUTLER.
Already a full year.
WALLENSTEIN.
And 'tis the hire
That 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 that
In which the duke spoke eight, nine years ago.
WALLENSTEIN.
Yes! 'tis my fault, I know it: I myself
Have 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 him
Of his own purse no doit. Through Saxony
The fury goddess of the war marched on,
E'en to the surf-rocks of the Baltic, bearing
The terrors of his name. That was a time!
In the whole imperial realm no name like mine
Honored with festival and celebration—
And Albrecht Wallenstein, it was the title
Of the third jewel in his crown!
But at the Diet, when the princes met
At Regensburg, there, there the whole broke out,
There 'twas laid open, there it was made known
Out of what money-bag I had paid the host,
And what were now my thanks, what had I now
That I, a faithful servant of the sovereign,
Had loaded on myself the people's curses,
And let the princes of the empire pay
The expenses of this war that aggrandizes
The emperor alone. What thanks had I?
What? I was offered up to their complaint
Dismissed, degraded!
QUESTENBERG.
But your highness knows
What little freedom he possessed of action
In that disastrous Diet.
WALLENSTEIN.
Death and hell!
I had that which could have procured him freedom
No! since 'twas proved so inauspicious to me
To serve the emperor at the empire's cost,
I have been taught far other trains of thinking
Of 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 willed
That without pretexts of delay the army
Evacuate Bohemia.
WALLENSTEIN.
In this season?
And to what quarter wills the emperor
That we direct our course?
QUESTENBERG.
To the enemy.
His majesty resolves, that Regensburg
Be purified from the enemy ere Easter,
That Lutheranism may be no longer preached
In that cathedral, nor heretical
Defilement desecrate the celebration
Of that pure festival.
WALLENSTEIN.
My generals,
Can this be realized?
ILLO.
'Tis not possible.
BUTLER.
It can't be realized.
QUESTENBERG.
The emperor
Already hath commanded Colonel Suys
To 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 orders
Not to desert his station! Stands it thus
With my authority? Is this the obedience
Due to my office, which being thrown aside,
No war can be conducted? Chieftains, speak
You be the judges, generals. What deserves
That 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, all
the rest rise.
WALLENSTEIN.
To this the law condemns him, and not I.
And if I show him favor, 'twill arise
From 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 diminution
Of my authority no human being,
Not even the emperor's self, should be entitled
To 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 all
The means thereto. What rendered this Gustavus
Resistless, 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 Cardinal
Begins his route at the approach of spring
From the Milanese; and leads a Spanish army
Through Germany into the Netherlands.
That he may march secure and unimpeded,
'Tis the emperor's will you grant him a detachment
Of 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 be
I 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 suffered
To understand that folks are tired of seeing
The sword's hilt in my grasp, and that your court
Snatch eagerly at this pretence, and use
The Spanish title, and drain off my forces,
To lead into the empire a new army
Unsubjected to my control? To throw me
Plumply aside,—I am still too powerful for you
To venture that. My stipulation runs,
That all the imperial forces shall obey me
Where'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 court
Steals 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 pinches
The 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 at
The moneys they have advanced, or how obtain
The 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 scrutiny
After 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 up
Will 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 talk
confusedly 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 you
Our joint remonstrances! Nay, calmer! Friends!
I hope all may yet be set right again.
TERZKY.
Away! let us away! in the antechamber
Find we the others.
[They go.
BUTLER (to QUESTENBERG).
If good counsel gain
Due audience from your wisdom, my lord envoy,
You will be cautious how you show yourself
In public for some hours to come—or hardly
Will 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 now
To 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.
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 generals
Should hear the will of the emperor from your mouth.
May it please you then to open your commission
Before these noble chieftains?
QUESTENBERG.
I am ready
To obey you; but will first entreat your highness,
And all these noble chieftains, to consider,
The imperial dignity and sovereign right
Speaks from my mouth, and not my own presumption.
WALLENSTEIN.
We excuse all preface.
QUESTENBERG.
When his majesty
The emperor to his courageous armies
Presented in the person of Duke Friedland
A most experienced and renowned commander,
He did it in glad hope and confidence
To give thereby to the fortune of the war
A rapid and auspicious change. The onset
Was favorable to his royal wishes.
Bohemia was delivered from the Saxons,
The Swede's career of conquest checked! These lands
Began to draw breath freely, as Duke Friedland
From all the streams of Germany forced hither
The scattered armies of the enemy;
Hither invoked as round one magic circle
The 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 spirit
At once proclaimed to us the new commander.
No longer strove blind rage with rage more blind;
But in the enlightened field of skill was shown
How fortitude can triumph over boldness,
And scientific art outweary courage.
In vain they tempt him to the fight. He only
Entrenches him still deeper in his hold,
As if to build an everlasting fortress.
At length grown desperate, now, the king resolves
To 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 fence
Death lurks within a thousand mouths of fire,
He yet unconquered strives to storm his way.
There was attack, and there resistance, such
As mortal eye had never seen before;
Repulsed at last, the king withdrew his troops
From this so murderous field, and not a foot
Of 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 left
His fame—in Luetzen's plains his life. But who
Stood not astounded, when victorious Friedland
After 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 way
Into Franconia, to the Danube, like
Some delving winter-stream, which, where it rushes,
Makes its own channel; with such sudden speed
He marched, and now at once 'fore Regensburg
Stood to the affright of all good Catholic Christians.
Then did Bavaria's well-deserving prince
Entreat swift aidance in his extreme need;
The emperor sends seven horsemen to Duke Friedland,
Seven horsemen couriers sends he with the entreaty
He superadds his own, and supplicates
Where as the sovereign lord he can command.
In vain his supplication! At this moment
The duke hears only his old hate and grudge,
Barters the general good to gratify
Private revenge—and so falls Regensburg.
WALLENSTEIN.
Max., to what period of the war alludes he?
My recollection fails me here.
MAX.
He means
When we were in Silesia.
WALLENSTEIN.
Ay! is it so!
But what had we to do there?
MAX.
To beat out
The 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 regain
What on the Danube shamefully was lost.
We looked for deeds of all-astounding grandeur
Upon a theatre of war, on which
A Friedland led in person to the field,
And the famed rival of the great Gustavus
Had but a Thurn and Arnheim to oppose him!
Yet the encounter of their mighty hosts
Served 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 commander
To spare the costs of fighting useless battles
Merely to show that he knows how to conquer.
It would have little helped my fame to boast
Of conquest o'er an Arnheim; but far more
Would my forbearance have availed my country,
Had I succeeded to dissolve the alliance
Existing 'twixt the Saxon and the Swede.
QUESTENBERG.
But you did not succeed, and so commenced
The fearful strife anew. And here at length,
Beside the river Oder did the duke
Assert his ancient fame. Upon the fields
Of Steinau did the Swedes lay down their arms,
Subdued without a blow. And here, with others,
The righteousness of heaven to his avenger
Delivered that long-practised stirrer-up
Of insurrection, that curse-laden torch
And kindler of this war, Matthias Thurn.
But he had fallen into magnanimous hands
Instead of punishment he found reward,
And with rich presents did the duke dismiss
The arch-foe of his emperor.
WALLENSTEIN (laughs).
I know,
I know you had already in Vienna
Your windows and your balconies forestalled
To see him on the executioner's cart.
I might have lost the battle, lost it too
With 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 Silesia
Was freed, and all things loudly called the duke
Into Bavaria, now pressed hard on all sides.
And he did put his troops in motion: slowly,
Quite at his ease, and by the longest road
He traverses Bohemia; but ere ever
He hath once seen the enemy, faces round,
Breaks up the march, and takes to winter-quarters.
WALLENSTEIN.
The troops were pitiably destitute
Of every necessary, every comfort,
The winter came. What thinks his majesty
His troops are made of? Aren't we men; subjected
Like other men to wet, and cold, and all
The 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 curse
Follows him on his route. All must be seized.
Nothing is given him. And compelled to seize
From every man he's every man's abhorrence.
Behold, here stand my generals. Karaffa!
Count Deodati! Butler! Tell this man
How long the soldier's pay is in arrears.
BUTLER.
Already a full year.
WALLENSTEIN.
And 'tis the hire
That 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 that
In which the duke spoke eight, nine years ago.
WALLENSTEIN.
Yes! 'tis my fault, I know it: I myself
Have 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 him
Of his own purse no doit. Through Saxony
The fury goddess of the war marched on,
E'en to the surf-rocks of the Baltic, bearing
The terrors of his name. That was a time!
In the whole imperial realm no name like mine
Honored with festival and celebration—
And Albrecht Wallenstein, it was the title
Of the third jewel in his crown!
But at the Diet, when the princes met
At Regensburg, there, there the whole broke out,
There 'twas laid open, there it was made known
Out of what money-bag I had paid the host,
And what were now my thanks, what had I now
That I, a faithful servant of the sovereign,
Had loaded on myself the people's curses,
And let the princes of the empire pay
The expenses of this war that aggrandizes
The emperor alone. What thanks had I?
What? I was offered up to their complaint
Dismissed, degraded!
QUESTENBERG.
But your highness knows
What little freedom he possessed of action
In that disastrous Diet.
WALLENSTEIN.
Death and hell!
I had that which could have procured him freedom
No! since 'twas proved so inauspicious to me
To serve the emperor at the empire's cost,
I have been taught far other trains of thinking
Of 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 willed
That without pretexts of delay the army
Evacuate Bohemia.
WALLENSTEIN.
In this season?
And to what quarter wills the emperor
That we direct our course?
QUESTENBERG.
To the enemy.
His majesty resolves, that Regensburg
Be purified from the enemy ere Easter,
That Lutheranism may be no longer preached
In that cathedral, nor heretical
Defilement desecrate the celebration
Of that pure festival.
WALLENSTEIN.
My generals,
Can this be realized?
ILLO.
'Tis not possible.
BUTLER.
It can't be realized.
QUESTENBERG.
The emperor
Already hath commanded Colonel Suys
To 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 orders
Not to desert his station! Stands it thus
With my authority? Is this the obedience
Due to my office, which being thrown aside,
No war can be conducted? Chieftains, speak
You be the judges, generals. What deserves
That 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, all
the rest rise.
WALLENSTEIN.
To this the law condemns him, and not I.
And if I show him favor, 'twill arise
From 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 diminution
Of my authority no human being,
Not even the emperor's self, should be entitled
To 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 all
The means thereto. What rendered this Gustavus
Resistless, 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 Cardinal
Begins his route at the approach of spring
From the Milanese; and leads a Spanish army
Through Germany into the Netherlands.
That he may march secure and unimpeded,
'Tis the emperor's will you grant him a detachment
Of 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 be
I 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 suffered
To understand that folks are tired of seeing
The sword's hilt in my grasp, and that your court
Snatch eagerly at this pretence, and use
The Spanish title, and drain off my forces,
To lead into the empire a new army
Unsubjected to my control? To throw me
Plumply aside,—I am still too powerful for you
To venture that. My stipulation runs,
That all the imperial forces shall obey me
Where'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 court
Steals 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 pinches
The 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 at
The moneys they have advanced, or how obtain
The 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 scrutiny
After 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 up
Will 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 talk
confusedly 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 you
Our joint remonstrances! Nay, calmer! Friends!
I hope all may yet be set right again.
TERZKY.
Away! let us away! in the antechamber
Find we the others.
[They go.
BUTLER (to QUESTENBERG).
If good counsel gain
Due audience from your wisdom, my lord envoy,
You will be cautious how you show yourself
In public for some hours to come—or hardly
Will 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 now
To 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.