Tertsky. Well—is she coming?—I can keep him back
No longer.
Countess. She will be there instantly.
You only send him.
Tertsky. I am not quite certain,
I must confess it, Countess, whether or not
We are earning the Duke's thanks hereby. You know, 5
No ray has broken from him on this point.
You have o'er-ruled me, and yourself know best
How far you dare proceed.
Countess. I take it on me.
[Talking to herself, while she is advancing.
Here's no need of full powers and commissions—
My cloudy Duke! we understand each other— 10
And without words. What, could I not unriddle,
Wherefore the daughter should be sent for hither,
Why first he, and no other, should be chosen
To fetch her hither! This sham of betrothing her
To a bridegroom,[641:1] whom no one knows—No! no!—-- 15
This may blind others! I see through thee, Brother!
But it beseems thee not, to draw a card
At such a game. Not yet!—It all remains
Mutely delivered up to my finessing——
Well—thou shalt not have been deceived, Duke Friedland!
In her who is thy sister.—— 20
Servant (enters). The commanders!
Tertsky (to the Countess). Take care you heat his fancy and affections—
Possess him with a reverie, and send him,
Absent and dreaming, to the banquet; that
He may not boggle at the signature. 25
[642]Countess. Take you care of your guests!—Go, send him hither.
Tertsky. All rests upon his undersigning.
Countess. Go to your guests! Go——
Illo (comes back). Where art staying, Tertsky?
The house is full, and all expecting you. 30
Tertsky. Instantly! Instantly! [To the Countess.
And let him not
Stay here too long. It might awake suspicion
In the old man——
Countess. A truce with your precautions!
[Exeunt Tertsky and Illo.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
[6] broken] broke out 1800, 1828, 1829.
[13] he 1800, 1828, 1829.
[15] whom] when 1800, 1828, 1829.
[28] Countess (interrupting him). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Scene III
Countess, Max Piccolomini.
Max. Aunt Tertsky? may I venture?
[Advances to the middle of the stage, and looks around him with uneasiness.
She's not here!
Where is she?
Countess. Look but somewhat narrowly
In yonder corner, lest perhaps she lie
Conceal'd behind that screen.
Max. There lie her gloves![642:1]
[Snatches at them, but the Countess takes them herself.
You unkind Lady! You refuse me this— 5
You make it an amusement to torment me.
Countess. And this the thanks you give me for my trouble?
Max. O, if you felt the oppression at my heart!
Since we've been here, so to constrain myself—
With such poor stealth to hazard words and glances— 10
These, these are not my habits!
Countess. You have still
Many new habits to acquire, young friend!
[643]
But on this proof of your obedient temper
I must continue to insist; and only
On this condition can I play the agent 15
For your concerns.
Max. But wherefore comes she not?
Where is she?
Countess. Into my hands you must place it
Whole and entire. Whom could you find, indeed,
More zealously affected to your interest?
No soul on earth must know it—not your father. 20
He must not above all.
Max. Alas! what danger?
Here is no face on which I might concentre
All the enraptured soul stirs up within me.
O Lady! tell me. Is all changed around me?
Or is it only I?
I find myself, 25
As among strangers! Not a trace is left
Of all my former wishes, former joys.
Where has it vanished to? There was a time
When even, methought, with such a world as this
I was not discontented. Now how flat! 30
How stale! No life, no bloom, no flavour in it!
My comrades are intolerable to me.
My father—Even to him I can say nothing.
My arms, my military duties—O!
They are such wearying toys!
Countess. But, gentle friend! 35
I must entreat it of your condescension,
You would be pleased to sink your eye, and favour
With one short glance or two this poor stale world,
Where even now much, and of much moment,
Is on the eve of its completion.
Max. Something, 40
I can't but know, is going forward round me.
I see it gathering, crowding, driving on,
In wild uncustomary movements. Well,
In due time, doubtless, it will reach even me.
Where think you I have been, dear lady? Nay, 45
No raillery. The turmoil of the camp,
The spring-tide of acquaintance rolling in,
The pointless jest, the empty conversation,
[644]
Oppress'd and stifled me. I gasped for air—
I could not breathe—I was constrain'd to fly, 50
To seek a silence out for my full heart;
And a pure spot wherein to feel my happiness.
No smiling, Countess! In the church was I.
There is a cloister here to the heaven's gate,[644:1]
Thither I went, there found myself alone. 55
Over the altar hung a holy mother;
A wretched painting 'twas, yet 'twas the friend
That I was seeking in this moment. Ah,
How oft have I beheld that glorious form
In splendour, mid ecstatic worshippers; 60
Yet, still it moved me not! and now at once
Was my devotion cloudless as my love.
Countess. Enjoy your fortune and felicity!
Forget the world around you. Meantime, friendship
Shall keep strict vigils for you, anxious, active. 65
Only be manageable when that friendship
Points you the road to full accomplishment.
How long may it be since you declared your passion?
Max. This morning did I hazard the first word.
Countess. This morning the first time in twenty days? 70
Max. 'Twas at that hunting-castle, betwixt here
And Nepomuck, where you had joined us, and—
That was the last relay of the whole journey!
In a balcony we were standing mute,
And gazing out upon the dreary field: 75
Before us the dragoons were riding onward,
The safe-guard which the Duke had sent us—heavy
The inquietude of parting lay upon me,
And trembling ventured I at length these words:
This all reminds me, noble maiden, that 80
To-day I must take leave of my good fortune.
A few hours more, and you will find a father,
Will see yourself surrounded by new friends,
And I henceforth shall be but as a stranger,
Lost in the many—'Speak with my aunt Tertsky!' 85
With hurrying voice she interrupted me.
[645]
She faltered. I beheld a glowing red
Possess her beautiful cheeks, and from the ground
Raised slowly up her eye met mine—no longer
Did I control myself.
[The Princess Thekla appears at the door, and
remains standing, observed by the Countess,
but not by Piccolomini.
With instant boldness 90
I caught her in my arms, my mouth touched hers;
There was a rustling in the room close by;
It parted us—'Twas you. What since has happened,
You know.
Countess. And is it your excess of modesty;
Or are you so incurious, that you do not 95
Ask me too of my secret?
Max. Of your secret?
Countess. Why, yes! When in the instant after you
I stepped into the room, and found my niece there,
What she in this first moment of the heart
Ta'en with surprise—
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
Max (peeping in on the stage shyly). 1800,
1828, 1829.
[7] thanks] thank 1800, 1828, 1829.
[17] my 1800, 1828, 1829.
[21] He 1800, 1828, 1829.
[72] you 1800, 1828, 1829.
[94] Countess (after a pause, with a stolen glance at
Thekla). 1800, 1828, 1829.
[96] your 1800, 1828, 1829.
[100] Max (with eagerness). 1800, 1828, 1829.
Scene IV
Thekla (hurries forward), Countess, Max Piccolomini.
Thekla (to the Countess). Spare yourself the trouble:
That hears he better from myself.
Max. My Princess!
What have you let her hear me say, aunt Tertsky?
Thekla (to the Countess). Has he been here long?
Countess. Yes; and soon must go.
Where have you stayed so long?
Thekla. Alas! my mother 5
Wept so again! and I—I see her suffer,
Yet cannot keep myself from being happy.
Max. Now once again I have courage to look on you.
To-day at noon I could not.
The dazzle of the jewels that play'd round you 10
Hid the beloved from me.
Thekla. Then you saw me
[646]
With your eye only—and not with your heart?
Max. This morning, when I found you in the circle
Of all your kindred, in your father's arms,
Beheld myself an alien in this circle, 15
O! what an impulse felt I in that moment
To fall upon his neck, to call him father!
But his stern eye o'erpowered the swelling passion—
It dared not but be silent. And those brilliants,
That like a crown of stars enwreathed your brows, 20
They scared me too! O wherefore, wherefore should he
At the first meeting spread as 'twere the ban
Of excommunication round you, wherefore
Dress up the angel as for sacrifice,
And cast upon the light and joyous heart 25
The mournful burthen of his station? Fitly
May love dare woo for love; but such a splendour
Might none but monarchs venture to approach.
Thekla. Hush! not a word more of this mummery.
You see how soon the burthen is thrown off. 30
[To the Countess.
He is not in spirits. Wherefore is he not?
'Tis you, aunt, that have made him all so gloomy!
He had quite another nature on the journey—
So calm, so bright, so joyous eloquent. [To Max.
It was my wish to see you always so, 35
And never otherwise!
Max. You find yourself
In your great father's arms, belovéd lady!
All in a new world, which does homage to you,
And which, wer't only by its novelty,
Delights your eye.
Thekla. Yes; I confess to you 40
That many things delight me here: this camp,
This motley stage of warriors, which renews
So manifold the image of my fancy,
And binds to life, binds to reality,
What hitherto had but been present to me 45
As a sweet dream!
Max. Alas! not so to me.
It makes a dream of my reality.
Upon some island in the ethereal heights
I've lived for these last days. This mass of men
[647]
Forces me down to earth. It is a bridge 50
That, reconducting to my former life,
Divides me and my heaven.
Thekla. The game of life
Looks cheerful, when one carries in one's heart
The inalienable treasure. 'Tis a game,
Which having once reviewed, I turn more joyous 55
Back to my deeper and appropriate bliss.
In this short time that I've been present here,
What new unheard-of things have I not seen!
And yet they all must give place to the wonder
Which this mysterious castle guards.
Countess. And what 60
Can this be then? Methought I was acquainted
With all the dusky corners of this house.
Thekla. Ay, but the road thereto is watched by spirits,
Two griffins still stand sentry at the door.
Countess (laughs). The astrological tower!—How happens it 65
That this same sanctuary, whose access
Is to all others so impracticable,
Opens before you even at your approach?
Thekla. A dwarfish old man with a friendly face
And snow-white hairs, whose gracious services 70
Were mine at first sight, opened me the doors.
Max. That is the Duke's astrologer, old Seni.
Thekla. He questioned me on many points; for instance,
When I was born, what month, and on what day,
Whether by day or in the night.
Countess. He wished 75
To erect a figure for your horoscope.
Thekla. My hand too he examined, shook his head
With much sad meaning, and the lines methought,
Did not square over truly with his wishes.
Countess. Well, Princess, and what found you in this tower? 80
My highest privilege has been to snatch
A side-glance, and away!
Thekla. [647:1]It was a strange
[648]
Sensation that came o'er me, when at first
From the broad sunshine I stepped in; and now
The narrowing line of day-light, that ran after 85
The closing door, was gone; and all about me
'Twas pale and dusky night, with many shadows
Fantastically cast. Here six or seven
Colossal statues, and all kings, stood round me
In a half-circle. Each one in his hand 90
A sceptre bore, and on his head a star;
And in the tower no other light was there
But from these stars: all seemed to come from them.
'These are the planets,' said that low old man,
'They govern worldly fates, and for that cause 95
Are imaged here as kings. He farthest from you,
Spiteful, and cold, an old man melancholy,
With bent and yellow forehead, he is Saturn.
He opposite, the king with the red light,
An arm'd man for the battle, that is Mars: 100
And both these bring but little luck to man.'
But at his side a lovely lady stood,
The star upon her head was soft and bright,
And that was Venus, the bright star of joy.
On the left hand, lo! Mercury, with wings. 105
Quite in the middle glittered silver-bright
A cheerful man, and with a monarch's mien;
And this was Jupiter, my father's star:
And at his side I saw the Sun and Moon.
Max. O never rudely will I blame his faith 110
In the might of stars and angels! 'Tis not merely
The human being's Pride that peoples space
With life and mystical predominance;
Since likewise for the stricken heart of Love
This visible nature, and this common world, 115
Is all too narrow: yea, a deeper import
Lurks in the legend told my infant years
Than lies upon that truth, we live to learn.
For fable is Love's world, his home, his birth-place;
Delightedly dwells he 'mong fays and talismans, 120
And spirits; and delightedly believes
Divinities, being himself divine.
[649]
The intelligible forms of ancient poets,
The fair humanities of old religion,
The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty, 125
That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain,
Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring,
Or chasms and wat'ry depths; all these have vanished.
They live no longer in the faith of reason!
But still the heart doth need a language, still 130
Doth the old instinct bring back the old names,
And to yon starry world they now are gone,
Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth
With man as with their friend;[649:1] and to the lover
Yonder they move, from yonder visible sky 135
Shoot influence down: and even at this day
'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great,
And Venus who brings every thing that's fair!
Thekla. And if this be the science of the stars,
I too, with glad and zealous industry, 140
Will learn acquaintance with this cheerful faith.
It is a gentle and affectionate thought,
That in immeasurable heights above us,
At our first birth, the wreath of love was woven,
With sparkling stars for flowers.
Countess. Not only roses, 145
But thorns too hath the heaven; and well for you
Leave they your wreath of love inviolate;
What Venus twined, the bearer of glad fortune,
The sullen orb of Mars soon tears to pieces.
Max. Soon will his gloomy empire reach its close. 150
Blest be the General's zeal: into the laurel
Will he inweave the olive-branch, presenting
Peace to the shouting nations. Then no wish
Will have remained for his great heart! Enough
Has he performed for glory, and can now 155
Live for himself and his. To his domains
Will he retire; he has a stately seat
Of fairest view at Gitschin; Reichenberg,
And Friedland Castle, both lie pleasantly—
[650]
Even to the foot of the huge mountains here 160
Stretches the chase and covers of his forests:
His ruling passion, to create the splendid,
He can indulge without restraint; can give
A princely patronage to every art,
And to all worth a Sovereign's protection. 165
Can build, can plant, can watch the starry courses—
Countess. Yet I would have you look, and look again,
Before you lay aside your arms, young friend!
A gentle bride, as she is, is well worth it,
That you should woo and win her with the sword. 170
Max. O, that the sword could win her!
Countess. What was that?
Did you hear nothing? Seem'd, as if I heard
Tumult and larum in the banquet-room.
[Exit Countess.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
[2] Max (stepping backward). 1800, 1828,
1829.
[5] you 1800, 1828, 1829.
[17] father 1800, 1828, 1829.
[26] his 1800, 1828, 1829.
[54] inalienable] unalienable 1800, 1828, 1829.
After 56 [Breaking off, and in a sportive tone. 1800,
1828, 1829.
[60] Countess (recollecting). 1800, 1828, 1829.
[63] Thekla (smiling). 1800, 1828, 1829.
[160] huge] Silesian MS. R.
Scene V
Thekla and Max Piccolomini.
Thekla (as soon us the Countess is out of sight, in a quick low
voice to Piccolomini).
Don't trust them! They are false!
Max. Impossible!
Thekla. Trust no one here but me. I saw at once,
They had a purpose.
Max. Purpose! but what purpose?
And how can we be instrumental to it?
Thekla. I know no more than you; but yet believe me: 5
There's some design in this! to make us happy,
To realize our union—trust me, love!
They but pretend to wish it.
Max. But these Tertskys——
Why use we them at all? Why not your mother?
Excellent creature! she deserves from us 10
A full and filial confidence.
Thekla. She doth love you,
Doth rate you high before all others—but—
But such a secret—she would never have
The courage to conceal it from my father.
For her own peace of mind we must preserve it 15
A secret from her too.
Max. Why any secret?
I love not secrets. Mark, what I will do.
[651]
I'll throw me at your father's feet—let him
Decide upon my fortunes!—He is true,
He wears no mask—he hates all crooked ways— 20
He is so good, so noble!
Thekla (falls on his neck). That are you!
Max. You knew him only since this morn; but I
Have liv'd ten years already in his presence,
And who knows whether in this very moment
He is not merely waiting for us both 25
To own our loves, in order to unite us.
You are silent!——
You look at me with such a hopelessness!
What have you to object against your father?
Thekla. I? Nothing. Only he's so occupied— 30
He has no leisure time to think about
The happiness of us two. [Taking his hand tenderly.
Follow me!
Let us not place too great a faith in men.
These Tertskys—we will still be grateful to them
For every kindness, but not trust them further 35
Than they deserve;—and in all else rely——
On our own hearts!
Max. O! shall we e'er be happy?
Thekla. Are we not happy now? Art thou not mine?
Am I not thine? There lives within my soul
A lofty courage—'tis love gives it me! 40
I ought to be less open—ought to hide
My heart more from thee—so decorum dictates:[651:1]
But where in this place could'st thou seek for truth,
If in my mouth thou did'st not find it?
FOOTNOTES: