Chapter VII: Act III: Scene I

_A Chamber in the House of the Duchess of Friedland_

COUNTESS TERZKY, THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN (_the two latter sit at the same table at work_)

COUNTESS (_watching them from the opposite side_).

So you have nothing to ask me--nothing? I have been waiting for a word from you. And could you then endure in all this time Not once to speak his name?

[THEKLA _remaining silent, the_ COUNTESS _rises and advances to her_.]

Why, how comes this! Perhaps I am already grown superfluous, And other ways exist, besides through me? Confess it to me, Thekla: have you seen him?

THEKLA.

Today and yesterday I have not seen him.

COUNTESS.

And not heard from him, either? Come, be open.

THEKLA.

No syllable.

COUNTESS.

And still you are so calm?

THEKLA.

I am.

COUNTESS.

May 't please you, leave us, Lady Neubrunn.
[_Exit_ LADY NEUBRUNN.]

SCENE II

_The_ COUNTESS, THEKLA

COUNTESS.

It does not please me, Princess, that he holds Himself so _still_, exactly at _this_ time.

THEKLA.

Exactly at _this_ time?

COUNTESS.

He now knows all:
'Twere now the moment to declare himself.

THEKLA.

If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly.

COUNTESS.

'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us. Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart Is now no more in nonage: for you love, And boldness dwells with love--that _you_ have proved Your nature molds itself upon your father's More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you Hear, what were too much for her fortitude.

THEKLA.

Enough: no further preface, I entreat you. At once, out with it! Be it what it may, It is not possible that it should torture me More than this introduction. What have you To say to me? Tell me the whole, and briefly!

COUNTESS.

You'll not be frighten'd--

THEKLA.

Name it, I entreat you.

COUNTESS.

It lies within your power to do your father A weighty service--

THEKLA.

Lies within _my_ power?

COUNTESS.

Max Piccolomini loves you. You can link him Indissolubly to your father.

THEKLA.

I? What need of me for that? And is he not Already link'd to him?

COUNTESS.

He was.

THEKLA.

And wherefore
Should he not be so now--not be so always?

COUNTESS.

He cleaves to the Emperor too.

THEKLA.

Not more than duty
And honor may demand of him.

COUNTESS.

We ask Proofs of his love, and not proofs of his honor. Duty and honor! Those are ambiguous words with many meanings. _You_ should interpret them for him: his love Should be the sole definer of his honor.

THEKLA.

How?

COUNTESS.

The Emperor or you must he renounce.

THEKLA.

He will accompany my father gladly In his retirement. From himself you heard, How much he wish'd to lay aside the sword.

COUNTESS.

He must _not_ lay the sword aside, we mean; He must unsheath it in your father's cause.

THEKLA.

He'll spend with gladness and alacrity His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause, If shame or injury be intended him.

COUNTESS.

You will not understand me. Well, hear then:-- Your father has fallen off from the Emperor, And is about to join the enemy With the whole soldiery--

THEKLA.

Alas, my mother!

COUNTESS.

There needs a great example to draw on The army after him. The Piccolomini Possess the love and reverence of the troops; They govern all opinions, and wherever They lead the way none hesitate to follow. The son secures the father to our interests-- You've much in your hands at this moment.

THEKLA.

Ah! My miserable mother! what a death-stroke Awaits thee!--No! she never will survive it.

COUNTESS.

She will accommodate her soul to that Which is and must be. I do know your mother; The far-off future weighs upon her heart With torture of anxiety; but is it Unalterably, actually present, She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly.

THEKLA.

O my foreboding bosom! Even now, E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror! And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp; I knew it well--no sooner had I enter'd, An heavy ominous presentiment Reveal'd to me that spirits of death were hovering Over my happy fortune. But why think I First of myself? My mother! O my mother!

COUNTESS.

Calm yourself! Break not out in vain lamenting! Preserve you for your father the firm friend, And for yourself the lover, all will yet Prove good and fortunate.

THEKLA.

Prove good! What good?
Must we not part?--part ne'er to meet again?

COUNTESS.

He parts not from you! He cannot part from you.

THEKLA.

Alas for his sore anguish! It will rend His heart asunder.

COUNTESS.

If indeed he loves you,
His resolution will be speedily taken.

THEKLA.

His resolution will be speedily taken-- O do not doubt of that! A resolution! Does there remain one to be taken?

COUNTESS.

Hush,
Collect yourself! I hear your mother coming.

THEKLA.

How shall I bear to see her?

COUNTESS.

Collect yourself.

SCENE III

_To them enter the DUCHESS_

DUCHESS (_to the COUNTESS_).

Who was here, sister? I heard someone talking, And passionately too.

COUNTESS.

Nay! there was no one.

DUCHESS.

I am grown so timorous, every trifling noise Scatters my spirits, and announces to me The footstep of some messenger of evil. And you can tell me, sister, what the event is? Will he agree to do the Emperor's pleasure, And send the horse-regiments to the Cardinal? Tell me, has he dismiss'd Von Questenberg With a favorable answer?

COUNTESS.

No, he has not.

DUCHESS.

Alas! then all is lost! I see it coming, The worst that can come! Yes, they will depose him; The accursed business of the Regensburg diet Will all be acted o'er again!

COUNTESS.

No! never!
Make your heart easy, sister, as to that.

[THEKLA, _in extreme agitation, throws herself upon her mother, and enfolds her in her arms, weeping_.]

DUCHESS.

Yes, my poor child! Thou too hast lost a most affectionate godmother In the Empress. O that stern unbending man! In this unhappy marriage what have I Not suffer'd, not endured? For even as if I had been link'd on to some wheel of fire That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onward, I have pass'd a life of frights and horrors with him, And ever to the brink of some abyss With dizzy headlong violence he bears me. Nay, do not weep, my child. Let not my sufferings Presignify unhappiness to thee, Nor blacken with their shade the fate that waits thee. There lives no second Friedland: thou, my child, Hast not to fear thy mother's destiny.

THEKLA.

O let us supplicate him, dearest mother! Quick! quick! here's no abiding place for us. Here every coming hour broods into life Some new affrightful monster.

DUCHESS.

Thou wilt share An easier, calmer lot, my child! We too, I and thy father, witnessed happy days. Still think I with delight of those first years, When he was making progress with glad effort, When his ambition was a genial fire, Not that consuming flame which now it is. The Emperor loved him, trusted him: and all He undertook could not but be successful. But since that ill-starr'd day at Regensburg, Which plunged him headlong from his dignity, A gloomy uncompanionable spirit, Unsteady and suspicious, has possess'd him. His quiet mind forsook him, and no longer Did he yield up himself in joy and faith To his old luck and individual power; But thenceforth turn'd his heart and best affections All to those cloudy sciences, which never Have yet made happy him who follow'd them.

COUNTESS.

You see it, sister, as your eyes permit you, But surely this is not the conversation To pass the time in which we are waiting for him. You know he will be soon here. Would you have him Find _her_ in this condition?

DUCHESS.

Come, my child! Come wipe away thy tears, and show thy father A cheerful countenance. See, the tie-knot here Is off--this hair must not hang so dishevell'd. Come, dearest! dry thy tears up. They deform Thy gentle eye.--Well now--what was I saying? Yes, in good truth, this Piccolomini Is a most noble and deserving gentleman.

COUNTESS.

That is he, sister!

THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS, _with marks of great oppression of spirits_).

Aunt, you will excuse me?

[_Is going_.]

COUNTESS.

But whither? See, your father comes.

THEKLA.

I cannot see him now.

COUNTESS.

Nay, but bethink you.

THEKLA.

Believe me, I cannot sustain his presence.

COUNTESS.

But he will miss you, will ask after you.

DUCHESS.

What now? Why is she going?

COUNTESS.

She's not well.

DUCHESS (_anxiously_).

What ails then my beloved child?

[_Both follow the_ PRINCESS, _and endeavor to detain her. During this_ WALLENSTEIN _appears, engaged in conversation with_ ILLO.]

SCENE IV

WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA

WALLENST.

All quiet in the camp?

ILLO.

It is all quiet.

WALLENST.

In a few hours may couriers come from Prague With tidings that this capital is ours. Then we may drop the mask, and to the troops Assembled in this town make known the measure And its result together. In such cases Example does the whole. Whoever is foremost Still leads the herd. An imitative creature Is man. The troops at Prague conceive no other Than that the Pilsen army has gone through The forms of homage to us; and in Pilsen They shall swear fealty to us, because The example has been given them by Prague. Butler, you tell me, has declared himself?

ILLO.

At his own bidding, unsolicited, He came to offer you himself and regiment.

WALLENST.

I find we must not give implicit credence To every warning voice that makes itself Be listen'd to in the heart. To hold us back, Oft does the lying Spirit counterfeit The voice of Truth and inward Revelation, Scattering false oracles. And thus have I To entreat forgiveness, for that secretly I've wrong'd this honorable, gallant man, This Butler: for a feeling, of the which I am not master (_fear_ I would not call it), Creeps o'er me instantly, with sense of shuddering At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion. And this same man, against whom I am warn'd, This honest man is he, who reaches to me The first pledge of my fortune.

ILLO.

And doubt not That his example will win over to you The best men in the army.

WALLENSTEIN.

Go and send Isolani hither. Send him immediately; He is under recent obligations to me: With him will I commence the trial. Go.

[_Exit_ ILLO.]

WALLENSTEIN (_turns himself round to the females_).

Lo, there the mother with the darling daughter For once we'll have an interval of rest--Come! my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour In the beloved circle of my family.

COUNTESS.

'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother.

WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS _aside_).

Can she sustain the news? Is she prepared?

COUNTESS.

Not yet.

WALLENST.

Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me. For there is a good spirit on thy lips. Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill; She says a voice of melody dwells in thee, Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice Will drive away from me the evil demon That beats his black wings close above my head.

DUCHESS.

Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father Hear some small trial of thy skill.

THEKLA.

My mother!
I--

DUCHESS.

Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer father.

THEKLA.

O my mother! I--I cannot.

COUNTESS.

How, what is that, niece?

THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS).

O spare me--sing--now--in this sore anxiety, Of the o'erburthen'd soul--to sing to _him_, Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong Into her grave.

DUCHESS.

How, Thekla! Humorsome! What! shall thy father have express'd a wish In vain?

COUNTESS.

Here is the lute.

THEKLA.

My God! how can I--

[_The orchestra plays. During the ritornello_ THEKLA _expresses in her gestures and countenance the struggle of her feelings; and at the moment that she should begin to sing, contracts herself together, as one shuddering, throws the instrument down, and retires abruptly_.]

DUCHESS. My child! O she is ill--

WALLENSTEIN.

What ails the maiden?
Say, is she often so?

COUNTESS.

Since then herself Has now betray'd it, I too must no longer Conceal it.

WALLENSTEIN.

What?

COUNTESS.

She loves him!

WALLENSTEIN.

Loves him! Whom?

COUNTESS.

Max does she love! Max Piccolomini. Hast thou ne'er noticed it? Nor yet my sister?

DUCHESS.

Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart? God's blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou need'st Never take shame upon thee for thy choice.

COUNTESS.

This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it To thine own self. Thou shouldst have chosen another To have attended her.

WALLENSTEIN.

And does he know it?

COUNTESS.

Yes, and he hopes to win her!

WALLENSTEIN. Hopes to win her! Is the boy mad?

COUNTESS.

Well--hear it from themselves.

WALLENST.

He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland's daughter! Ay?--The thought pleases me. The young man has no groveling spirit.

COUNTESS.

Since
Such and such constant favor you have shown him--

WALLENST.

He chooses finally to be my heir. And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honor him. But must he therefore be my daughter's husband? Is it daughters only? Is it only children That we must show our favor by?

DUCHESS.

His noble disposition and his manners--

WALLENST.

Win him my heart, but not my daughter.

DUCHESS.

Then
His rank, his ancestors--

WALLENSTETN.

Ancestors! What? He is a subject, and my son-in-law I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe.

DUCHESS.

O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high Lest we should fall too low.

WALLENSTEIN.

What! have I paid A price so heavy to ascend this eminence, And jut out high above the common herd, Only to close the mighty part I play In Life's great drama, with a common kinsman? Have I for this--

[_Stops suddenly, repressing himself_.]

She is the only thing That will remain behind of me on earth; And I will see a crown around her head, Or die in the attempt to place it there. I hazard all--all! and for this alone, To lift her into greatness--Yea, in this moment, in the which we are speaking--

[_He recollects himself_.]

And I must now, like a soft-hearted father, Couple together in good peasant-fashion The pair, that chance to suit each other's liking-- And I must do it now, even now, when I Am stretching out the wreath that is to twine My full accomplish'd work--no! she is the jewel, Which I have treasured long, my last, my noblest, And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me For less than a king's sceptre.

DUCHESS.

O my husband! You're ever building, building to the clouds, Still building higher, and still higher building, And ne'er reflect that the poor narrow basis Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column.

WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS).

Have you announced the place of residence Which I have destined for her?

COUNTESS.

No! not yet.
'Twere better you yourself disclosed it to her.

DUCHESS.

How? Do we not return to Carinthia then?

WALLENSTEIN.

No.

DUCHESS.

And to no other of your lands or seats?

WALLENST.

You would not be secure there.

DUCHESS.

Not secure In the Emperor's realms, beneath the Emperor's Protection?

WALLENSTEIN.

Friedland's wife may be permitted No longer to hope _that_.

DUCHESS.

O God in heaven!
And have you brought it even to this!

WALLENSTEIN.

In Holland
You'll find protection.

DUCHESS.

In a Lutheran country? What? And you send us into Lutheran countries?

WALLENST.

Duke Franz of Lauenburg conducts you thither.

DUCHESS.

Duke Franz of Lauenburg? The ally of Sweden, the Emperor's enemy.

WALLENST.

The Emperor's enemies are mine no longer.

DUCHESS (_casting a look of terror on the_ DUKE _and the_ COUNTESS).

Is it then true? It is. You are degraded-- Deposed from the command! O God in heaven!

COUNTESS (_aside to the_ DUKE).

Leave her in this belief. Thou seest she cannot Support the real truth.

SCENE V

_To them enter_ COUNT TERZKY.

COUNTESS.

--Terzky! What ails him? What an image of affright! He looks as he had seen a ghost.

TERZKY (_leading_ WALLENSTEIN _aside_).

Is it thy command that all the Croats--

WALLENSTEIN.

Mine.

TERZKY.

We are betray'd.

WALLENSTEIN.

What?

TERZKY.

They are off! This night The Jägers likewise--all the villages In the whole round are empty.

WALLENSTEIN.

Isolani!

TERZKY.

Him thou hast sent away. Yes, surely.

WALLENSTEIN.

I?

TERZKY.

No! Hast thou not sent him off? Nor Deodati? They are vanish'd both of them.

SCENE VI

_To them enter_ ILLO.

ILLO.

Has Terzky told thee?

TERZKY.

He knows all.

ILLO.

And likewise That Esterhatzy, Goetz, Maradas, Kaunitz, Kolalto, Palfi, have forsaken thee.

TERZKY.

Damnation!

WALLENSTEIN (_winks at them_).

Hush!

COUNTESS (_who has been watching them anxiously from the distance and now advances to them_).

Terzky! Heaven! What is it? What has happen'd?

WALLENSTEIN (_scarcely suppressing his emotions_).

Nothing! let us be gone!

TERZKY (_following him_).

Theresa, it is nothing.

COUNTESS (_holding him back_).

Nothing? Do I not see that all the life-blood Has left your cheeks--look you not like a ghost? That even my brother but affects a calmness?

PAGE (_enters_).

An Aide-de-camp inquires for the Count Terzky.

[TERZKY _follows the_ PAGE.]

WALLENST. Go, hear his business.

[_To_ ILLO.]

This could not have happen'd So unsuspected without mutiny. Who was on guard at the gates?

ILLO.

'Twas Tiefenbach.

WALLENST.

Let Tiefenbach leave guard without delay, And Terzky's grenadiers relieve him.

[ILLO _is going_.]

Stop!
Hast thou heard aught of Butler?

ILLO.

Him I met;

He will be here himself immediately. Butler remains unshaken.

[ILLO _exit_. WALLENSTEIN _is following him_.]

COUNTESS.

Let him not leave thee, sister! go, detain him! There's some misfortune.

DUCHESS (_clinging to him_).

Gracious Heaven! What is it?

WALLENST.

Be tranquil! leave me, sister! dearest wife! We are in camp, and this is nought unusual; Here storm and sunshine follow one another With rapid interchanges. These fierce spirits Champ the curb angrily, and never yet Did quiet bless the temples of the leader. If I am to stay, go you. The plaints of women Ill suit the scene where men must act.

[_He is going_. TERZHY _returns_.]

TERZHY.

Remain here. From this window must we see it.

WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS).

Sister, retire!

COUNTESS.

No--never.

WALLENSTEIN.

'Tis my will.

TERZKY (_leads the_ COUNTESS _aside, and drawing her attention to the_ DUCHESS).

Theresa?

DUCHESS.

Sister, come! since he commands it.

SCENE VII

WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY

WALLENSTEIN (_stepping to the window_).

What now, then?

TERZKY.

There are strange movements among all the troops, And no one knows the cause. Mysteriously, With gloomy silentness, the several corps Marshal themselves, each under its own banners. Tiefenbach's corps make threat'ning movements; only The Pappenheimers still remain aloof In their own quarters, and let no one enter.

WALLENST.

Does Piccolomini appear among them?

TERZKY.

We are seeking him: he is nowhere to be met with.

WALLENST.

What did the Aide-de-camp deliver to you?

TERZKY.

My regiments had dispatch'd him; yet once more They swear fidelity to thee, and wait The shout for onset, all prepared, and eager.

WALLENST.

But whence arose this larum in the camp? It should have been kept secret from the army, Till fortune had decided for us at Prague.

TERZKY.

O that thou hadst believed me! Yester evening Did we conjure thee not to let that skulker, That fox, Octavio, pass the gates of Pilsen. Thou gavest him thy own horses to flee from thee.

WALLENST.

The old tune still! Now, once for all, no more Of this suspicion--it is doting folly.

TERZKY.

Thou didst confide in Isolani too; And lo! he was the first that did desert thee.

WALLENST.

It was but yesterday I rescued him From abject wretchedness. Let that go by; I never reckon'd yet on gratitude. And wherein doth he wrong in going from me? He follows still the god whom all his life He has worship'd at the gaming-table. With My fortune, and my seeming destiny, He made the bond, and broke it not with me. I am but the ship in which his hopes were stow'd And with the which, well-pleased and confident, He traversed the open sea; now he beholds it In eminent jeopardy among the coast-rocks, And hurries to preserve his wares. As light As the free bird from the hospitable twig Where it had nested, he flies off from me: No human tie is snapp'd betwixt us two. Yea, he deserves to find himself deceived Who seeks a heart in the unthinking man. Like shadows on a stream, the forms of life Impress their characters on the smooth forehead, Nought sinks into the bosom's silent depth; Quick sensibility of pain and pleasure Moves the light fluids lightly; but no soul Warmeth the inner frame.

TERZKY.

Yet, would I rather
Trust the smooth brow than that deep furrow'd one.

SCENE VIII

WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, ILLO

ILLO (_who enters agitated with rage_).

Treason and mutiny!

TERZKY.

And what further now?

ILLO.

Tiefenbach's soldiers, when I gave the orders, To go off guard--Mutinous villains!

TERZKY.

Well!

WALLENST.

What followed?

ILLO.

They refused obedience to them.

TERZKY.

Fire on them instantly! Give out the order.

WALLENST.

Gently! what cause did they assign?

ILLO.

No other, They said, had right to issue orders but Lieutenant-General _Piccolomini_.

WALLENSTEIN (_in a convulsion of agony_).

What? How is that?

ILLO.

He takes that office on him by commission, Under sign-manual of the Emperor.

TERZKY.

From the Emperor--hear'st thou, Duke?

ILLO.

At his incitement
The Generals made that stealthy flight--

TERZKY.

Duke! hear'st thou?

ILLO.

Caraffa too, and Montecuculi, Are missing, with six other generals, All whom he had induced to follow him. This plot he has long had in writing by him From the Emperor; but 'twas finally concluded, With all the detail of the operation, Some days ago with the Envoy Questenberg.

[WALLENSTEIN _sinks down into a chair and covers his face_.]

TERZKY.

O hadst thou but believed me!

SCENE IX

_To them enter the_ COUNTESS

COUNTESS.

This suspense, This horrid fear--I can no longer bear it. For heaven's sake tell me what has taken place?

ILLO.

The regiments are all falling off from us.

TERZKY.

Octavio Piccolomini is a traitor.

COUNTESS.

O my foreboding! [_Rushes out of the room_.]

TERZKY.

Hadst thou but believed me!
Now seest thou how the stars have lied to thee.

WALLENST.

The stars lie not; but we have here a work Wrought counter to the stars and destiny. The science is still honest: this false heart Forces a lie on the truth-telling heaven. On a divine law divination rests; Where nature deviates from that law, and stumbles Out of her limits, there all science errs. True I did not suspect! Were it superstition Never by such suspicion t' have affronted The human form, O may that time ne'er come In which I shame me of the infirmity. The wildest savage drinks not with the victim, Into whose breast he means to plunge the sword. This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed: 'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine; A bad heart triumph'd o'er an honest one. No shield received the assassin stroke; thou plungest Thy weapon on an unprotected breast-- Against such weapons I am but a child.

SCENE X

_To these enter_ BUTLER

TERZKY (_meeting him_).

O look there! Butler! Here we've still a friend!

WALLENSTEIN (_meets him with outspread arms, and embraces him with warmth_).

Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun Looks out upon us more revivingly In the earliest month of spring, Than a friend's countenance in such an hour.

BUTLER.

My General: I come--

WALLENSTEIN (_leaning on_ BUTLER's _shoulder_).

Know'st thou already? That old man has betray'd me to the Emperor. What say'st thou? Thirty years have we together Lived out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship. We have slept in one camp-bed, drunk from one glass, One morsel shared! I lean'd myself on _him_, As now I lean me on _thy_ faithful shoulder. And now in the very moment, when, all love, All confidence, my bosom beat to his, He sees and takes the advantage, stabs the knife Slowly into my heart.

[_He hides his face on_ BUTLER'S _breast_.]

BUTLER.

Forget the false one.
What is your present purpose?

WALLENSTEIN.

Well remember'd! Courage, my soul! I am still rich in friends, Still loved by Destiny; for in the moment That it unmasks the plotting hypocrite, It sends and proves to me one faithful heart. Of the hypocrite no more! Think not his loss Was that which struck the pang: O no! his treason Is that which strikes this pang! No more of him! Dear to my heart and honor'd were they both, And the young man--yes--he did truly love me, He--he--has not deceived me. But enough, Enough of this--swift counsel now beseems us. The Courier, whom Count Kinsky sent from Prague, I expect him every moment: and whatever He may bring with him, we must take good care To keep it from the mutineers. Quick then! Dispatch some messenger you can rely on To meet him and conduct him to me.

[ILLO _is going_.]

BUTLER (_detaining him_).

My General, whom expect you then?

WALLENSTEIN.

The Courier
Who brings me word of the event at Prague.

BUTLER (_hesitating_).

Hem!

WALLENST.

And what now?

BUTLER.

You do not know it?

WALLENSTEIN.

Well?

BUTLER.

From what that larum in the camp arose?

WALLENST.

From what?

BUTLER.

That Courier--

WALLENSTEIN (_with eager expectation_).

Well?

BUTLER.

Is already here.

TERZKY and ILLO (_at the same time_).

Already here?

WALLENSTEIN.

My Courier?

BUTLER.

For some hours.

WALLENST.

And I not know it?

BUTLER.

The sentinels detained him
In custody.

ILLO (_stamping with his foot_).
Damnation!

BUTLER.

And his letter Was broken open, and is circulated Through the whole camp.

WALLENSTEIN.

You know what it contains?

BUTLER.

Question me not!

TERZKY.

Illo, alas for us!

WALLENST.

Hide nothing from me--I can hear the worst. Prague then is lost? It is! Confess it freely.

BUTLER.

Yes! Prague is lost. And all the several regiments At Budweiss, Tabor, Braunau, Königingratz, At Brunn and Zanaym, have forsaken you, And ta'en oaths of fealty anew To the Emperor. Yourself, with Kinsky, Terzky, And Illo have been sentenced.

[TERZKY _and_ ILLO _express alarm and fury_. WALLENSTEIN _remains firm and collected_.]

WALLENSTEIN.

'Tis decided! 'Tis well! I have received a sudden cure From all the pangs of doubt: with steady stream Once more my life-blood flows! My soul's secure! In the night only Friedland's stars can beam. Lingering irresolute, with fitful fears I drew the sword--'twas with an inward strife, While yet the choice was mine. The murderous knife Is lifted for my heart! Doubt disappears! I fight now for my head and for my life.

[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; _the others follow him_.]

SCENE XI

COUNTESS TERZKY (_enters from a side room_).

I can endure no longer. No!

[_Looks around her_.]

Where are they! No one is here. They leave me all alone, Alone in this sore anguish of suspense. And I must wear the outward show of calmness Before my sister, and shut in within me The pangs and agonies of my crowded bosom. It is not to be borne. If all should fail; If--if he must go over to the Swedes, An empty-handed fugitive, and not As an ally, a covenanted equal, A proud commander with his army following, If we must wander on from land to land, Like the Count Palatine, of fallen greatness An ignominious monument! But no! That day I will not see! And could himself Endure to sink so low, I would not bear To see him so low sunken.

SCENE XII

COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA

THEKLA (_endeavoring to hold back the_ DUCHESS).

Dear mother, do stay here!

DUCHESS.

No! Here is yet Some frightful mystery that is hidden from me. Why does my sister shun me? Don't I see her Full of suspense and anguish roam about From room to room? Art thou not full of terror? And what import these silent nods and gestures Which stealthwise thou exchangest with her?

THEKLA.

Nothing:
Nothing, dear mother!

DUCHESS (_to the_ COUNTESS).

Sister, I will know.

COUNTESS.

What boots it now to hide it from her? Sooner Or later she _must_ learn to hear and bear it. 'Tis not the time now to indulge infirmity; Courage beseems us now, a heart collect, And exercise and previous discipline Of fortitude. One word, and over with it! Sister, you are deluded. You believe The Duke has been deposed--the Duke is not Deposed--he is--

THEKLA (_going to the_ COUNTESS).

What? do you wish to kill her?

COUNTESS.

The Duke is--

THEKLA (_throwing her arms round her mother_).

O stand firm; stand firm, my mother!

COUNTESS.

Revolted is the Duke; he is preparing To join the enemy; the army leave him, And all has fail'd.

SCENE XIII

A spacious Room in the Duke of Friedland's Palace.

WALLENSTEIN (_in armor_).

Thou hast gain'd thy point, Octavio! Once more am I Almost as friendless as at Regensburg. There I had nothing left me, but myself; But what one man can do, you have now experience. The twigs have you hew'd off, and here I stand A leafless trunk. But in the sap within Lives the creating power, and a new world May sprout forth from it. Once already have I Proved myself worth an army to you--I alone! Before the Swedish strength your troops had melted; Beside the Lech sank Tilly your last hope; Into Bavaria like a winter torrent, Did that Gustavus pour, and at Vienna In his own palace did the Emperor tremble. Soldiers were scarce, for still the multitude Follow the luck: all eyes were turn'd on me, Their helper in distress: the Emperor's pride Bow'd itself down before the man he had injured. 'Twas I must rise, and with creative word Assemble forces in the desolate camps. I did it. Like a god of war, my name Went through the world. The drum was beat; and, lo, The plough, the workshop is forsaken, all Swarm to the old familiar long-loved banners; And as the wood-choir rich in melody Assemble quick around the bird of wonder, When first his throat swells with his magic song, So did the warlike youth of Germany Crowd in around the image of my eagle. I feel myself the being that I was. It is the soul that builds itself a body, And Friedland's camp will not remain unfill'd. Lead then your thousands out to meet me--true! They are accustom'd under me to conquer, But not against me. If the head and limbs Separate from each other, 'twill be soon Made manifest in which the soul abode.

(ILLO _and_ TERZKY _enter_)

Courage, friends! courage! we are still unvanquish'd! I feel my footing firm; five regiments, Terzky, Are still our own, and Butler's gallant troops; And an host of sixteen thousand Swedes to-morrow. I was not stronger when, nine years ago, I marched forth, with glad heart and high of hope, To conquer Germany for the Emperor.

SCENE XIV

WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, TERZKY

(_To them enter_ NEUMANN, _who leads_ TERZKY _aside and talks with him_.)

TERZKY.

What do they want?

WALLENSTEIN.

What now!

TERZKY.

Ten Cuirassiers From Pappenheim request leave to address you In the name of the regiment.

WALLENSTEIN (_hastily to_ NEUMANN).

Let them enter.

[_Exit_ NEUMANN.]

This May end in something. Mark you. They are still Doubtful, and may be won.

SCENE XV

WALLENSTEIN, TERZBY, ILLO, _ten_ Cuirassiers (_led by an_ ANSPESSADE,[27] _march up and arrange themselves, after the word of command, in one front before the Duke, and make their obeisance. He takes his hat off and immediately covers himself again_).

ANSPESS.

Halt! Front! Present!

WALLENSTEIN (_after he has run through them with his eye, to the_ ANSPESSADE).

I know thee well. Thou art out of Brüggen in Flanders. Thy name is Mercy.

ANSPESS.

Henry Mercy.

WALLENST.

Thou wert cut off on the march, surrounded by the Hessians, and didst fight thy way with an hundred and eighty men through their thousand.

ANSPESS.

'Twas even so, General!

WALLENST.

What reward hadst thou for this gallant exploit?

ANSPESS.

That which I asked for: the honor to serve in this corps.

WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a second_).

Thou wert among the volunteers that seized and made booty of the Swedish battery at Altenburg.

2D CUIRAS.

Yes, General.

WALLENST.

I forget no one with whom I have exchanged words.

(_A pause_.)

Who sends you?

ANSPESS.

Your noble regiment, the Cuirassiers of Piccolomini.

WALLENST.

Why does not your colonel deliver in your request, according to the custom of service?

ANSPESS.

Because we would first know _whom_ we serve.

WALLENST.

Begin your address.

ANSPESSADE (_giving the word of command_).

Shoulder your arms!

WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a third_).

Thy name is Risbeck; Cologne is thy birth-place.

3D CUIRAS.

Risbeck of Cologne.

WALLENST.

It was thou that broughtest in the Swedish colonel, Dübald, prisoner, in the camp at Nuremberg.

3D CUIRAS.

It was not I, General.

WALLENST.

Perfectly right! It was thy elder brother: thou hadst a younger brother too: Where did he stay?

3D CUIRAS.

He is stationed at Olmütz, with the Imperial army.

WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ ANSPESSADE).

Now then--begin.

ANSPESS.

There came to hand a letter from the Emperor Commanding us--

WALLENSTEIN (_interrupting him_).

Who chose you?

ANSPESSADE.

Every company
Drew its own man by lot.

WALLENSTEIN.

Now to the business.

ANSPESS.

There came to hand a letter from the Emperor Commanding us collectively, from thee All duties of obedience to withdraw, Because thou wert an enemy and traitor.

WALLENST.

And what did you determine?

ANSPESSADE.

All our comrades At Braunau, Budweiss, Prague and Olmütz, have Obey'd already; and the regiments here, Tiefenbach and Toscano, instantly Did follow their example. But--but we Do not believe that thou art an enemy And traitor to thy country, hold it merely For lie and trick and a trumped-up Spanish story!

[_With warmth_.]

Thyself shalt tell us what thy purpose is, For we have found thee still sincere and true: No mouth shall interpose itself betwixt The gallant General and the gallant troops.

WALLENST.

Therein I recognize my Pappenheimers.

ANSPESS.

And this proposal makes thy regiment to thee. Is it thy purpose merely to preserve In thine own hands this military sceptre, Which so becomes thee, which the Emperor Made over to thee by a covenant? Is it thy purpose merely to remain Supreme commander of the Austrian armies?-- We will stand by thee, General! and guarantee Thy honest rights against all opposition. And should it chance that all the other regiments Turn from thee, by ourselves will we stand forth Thy faithful soldiers, and, as is our duty, Far rather let ourselves be cut to pieces Than suffer thee to fall. But if it be As the Emperor's letter says, if it be true, That thou in traitorous wise wilt lead us over To the enemy, which God in heaven forbid! Then we too will forsake thee, and obey That letter--

WALLENSTEIN.

Hear me, children!

ANSPESSADE.

Yes, or no!
There needs no other answer.

WALLENSTEIN.

Yield attention. You're men of sense, examine for yourselves; Ye think, and do not follow with the herd And therefore have I always shown you honor Above all others, suffer'd you to reason; Have treated you as free men, and my orders Were but the echoes of your prior suffrage.--

ANSPESS.

Most fair and noble has thy conduct been To us, my General! With thy confidence Thou hast honor'd us, and shown us grace and favor Beyond all other regiments; and thou seest We follow not the common herd. We will Standby thee faithfully. Speak but one word-- Thy word shall satisfy us, that it is not A treason which thou meditatest--that Thou meanest not to lead the army over To the enemy, nor e'er betray the country.

WALLENST.

Me, me are they betraying. The Emperor Hath sacrificed me to my enemies, And I must fall, unless my gallant troops Will rescue me. See! I confide in you. And be your hearts my stronghold! At this breast The aim is taken, at this hoary head. This is your Spanish gratitude, this is our Requital for that murderous fight at Lützen! For this we threw the naked breast against The halbert, made for this the frozen earth Our bed, and the hard stone our pillow! never stream Too rapid for us, nor wood too impervious; With cheerful spirit we pursued that Mansfeldt Through all the turns and windings of his flight: Yea, our whole life was but one restless march: And homeless, as the stirring wind, we travel'd O'er the war-wasted earth. And now, even now, That we have well-nigh finish'd the hard toil, The unthankful, the curse-laden toil of weapons, With faithful indefatigable arm Have roll'd the heavy war-load up the hill, Behold! this boy of the Emperor's bears away The honors of the peace, an easy prize! He'll weave, forsooth, into his flaxen locks The olive branch, the hard-earn'd ornament Of this gray head, grown gray beneath the helmet.

ANSPESS.

That shall he not, while we can hinder it! No one, but thou, who hast conducted it With fame, shall end this war, this frightful war. Thou leddest us out to the bloody field Of death; thou and no other shalt conduct us home, Rejoicing, to the lovely plains of peace-- Shalt share with us the fruits of the long toil--

WALLENST.

What! Think you then at length in late old age To enjoy the fruits of toil? Believe it not. Never, no never, will you see the end Of the contest! you and me, and all of us, This war will swallow up! War, war, not peace, Is Austria's wish; and therefore, because I Endeavor'd after peace, therefore I fall, For what cares Austria how long the war Wears out the armies and lays waste the world! She will but wax and grow amid the ruin And still win new domains.

[_The_ Cuirassiers _express agitation by their gestures_.]

Ye're moved--I see A noble rage flash from your eyes, ye warriors! Oh that my spirit might possess you now Daring as once it led you to the battle! Ye would stand by me with your veteran arms, Protect me in my rights; and this is noble! But think not that _you_ can accomplish it, Your scanty number! to no purpose will you Have sacrificed you for your General.

[_Confidentially_.]

No! let us tread securely, seek for friends; The Swedes have proffer'd us assistance, let us Wear for a while the appearance of good will, And use them for your profit, till we both Carry the fate of Europe in our hands, And from our camp to the glad jubilant world Lead Peace forth with the garland on her head!

ANSPESS.

'Tis then but mere appearances which thou Dost put on with the Swede! Thou'lt not betray The Emperor? Wilt not turn us into Swedes? This is the only thing which we desire To learn from thee.

WALLENSTEIN.

What care I for the Swedes? I hate them as I hate the pit of hell, And under Providence I trust right soon To chase them to their homes across their Baltic. My cares are only for the whole: I have A heart--it bleeds within me for the miseries And piteous groaning of my fellow Germans. Ye are but common men, but yet ye think With minds not common; ye appear to me Worthy before all others that I whisper ye A little word or two in confidence! See now! already for full fifteen years, The war-torch has continued burning, yet No rest, no pause of conflict. Swede and German, Papist and Lutheran! neither will give way To the other, every hand's against the other. Each one is party and no one a judge. Where shall this end? Where's he that will unravel This tangle, ever tangling more and more; It must be cut asunder; I feel that I am the man of destiny, And trust, with your assistance, to accomplish it.

SCENE XVI

_To these enter_ BUTLER

BUTLER (_passionately_).

General! This is not right!

WALLENSTEIN.

What is not right?

BUTLER.

It must needs injure us with all honest men.

WALLENST.

But What?

BUTLER.

It is an open proclamation
Of insurrection.

WALLENSTEIN.

Well, well--but what is it?

BUTLER.

Count Terzky's regiments tear the Imperial Eagle From off the banners, and instead of it Have rear'd aloft their arms.

ANSPESSADE (_abruptly to the_ Cuirassiers).

Right about! March!

WALLENST.

Cursed be this counsel, and accursed who gave it!

[_To the_ Cuirassiers, _who are retiring_.]

Halt, children, halt! There's some mistake in this; Hark!--I will punish it severely. Stop! They do not hear. (_To_ ILLO.) Go after them, assure them, And bring them back to me, cost what it may.

[ILLO _hurries out_.]

This hurls us headlong. Butler! Butler! You are my evil genius! Wherefore must you Announce it in their presence? It was all In a fair way. They were half won! those madmen With their improvident over-readiness-- cruel game is Fortune playing with me. The zeal of friends it is that razes me, And not the hate of enemies.

SCENE XVII

_To these enter the_ DUCHESS, _who rushes into the Chamber_ THEKLA _and the_ COUNTESS _follow her_.

DUCHESS.

O Albrecht!
What hast thou done?

WALLENSTEIN.

And now comes this beside.

COUNTESS.

Forgive me, brother! It was not in my power-- They know all.

DUCHESS.

What hast thou done?

COUNTESS (_to_ TERZKY).

Is there no hope? Is all lost utterly?

TERZKY.

All lost. No hope. Prague in the Emperor's hands, The soldiery have ta'en their oaths anew.

COUNTESS.

That lurking hypocrite, Octavio! Count Max is off too.

TERZKY.

Where can he be? He's
Gone over to the Emperor with his father.

[THEKLA _rushes out into the arms of her mother, hiding her face in her bosom_.]

DUCHESS (_enfolding her in her arms_).

Unhappy child! and more unhappy mother!

WALLENSTEIN (_aside to_ TERZKY).

Quick! Let a carriage stand in readiness In the court behind the palace. Scherfenberg Be their attendant; he is faithful to us; To Egra he'll conduct them, and we follow.

[_To_ ILLO, _who returns_.]

Thou hast not brought them back?

ILLO.

Hear'st thou the uproar? The whole corps of the Pappenheimers is Drawn out: the younger Piccolomini, Their colonel, they require: for they affirm That he is in the palace here, a prisoner; And if thou dost not instantly deliver him, They will find means to free him with the sword.

[_All stand amazed_.]

TERZKY.

What shall we make of this?

WALLENSTEIN.

Said I not so? O my prophetic heart! he is still here. He has not betray'd me--he could not betray me. I never doubted of it.

COUNTESS.

If he be
Still here, then all goes well; for I know what

[_Embracing_ THEKLA]

Will keep him here forever.

TERZKY.

It can't be. His father has betray'd us, is gone over To the Emperor--the son could not have ventured To stay behind.

THEKLA (_her eyes fixed on the door_).

There he is!

SCENE XVIII

_To these enter_ MAX PICCOLOMINI

MAX.

Yes! here he is! I can endure no longer To creep on tiptoe round this house, and lurk In ambush for a favorable moment: This loitering, this suspense exceeds my powers.

[_Advancing to_ THEKLA, _who has thrown herself into her mother's arms_.]

Turn not thine eyes away. O look upon me! Confess it freely before all. Fear no one. Let who will hear that we both love each other; Wherefore continue to conceal it? Secrecy Is for the happy--misery, hopeless misery, Needeth no veil! Beneath a thousand suns It dares act openly.

[_He observes the_ COUNTESS _looking on_ THEKLA _with expressions of triumph_.]

No, Lady! No! Expect not, hope it not. I am not come To stay: to bid farewell, farewell forever. For this I come! 'Tis over! I must leave thee! Thekla, I must--_must_ leave thee! Yet thy hatred Let me not take with me. I pray thee, grant me One look of sympathy, only one look. Say that thou dost not hate me. Say it to me, Thekla!

[_Grasps her hand_.]

O God! I cannot leave this spot--I cannot! Cannot let go this hand. O tell me, Thekla! That thou dost suffer with me, art convinced That I cannot act otherwise.

[THEKLA, _avoiding his look, points with her hand to her father_. MAX _turns round to the Duke, whom he had not till then perceived_.]

Thou here? It was not thou whom here I sought. I trusted never more to have beheld thee. My business is with her alone. Here will I Receive a full acquittal from this heart-- For any other I am no more concern'd.

WALLENST.

Think'st thou that, fool-like, I shall let thee go, And act the mock-magnanimous with thee? Thy father is become a villain to me; I hold thee for his son, and nothing more: Nor to no purpose shalt thou have been given Into my power. Think not that I will honor That ancient love, which so remorselessly He mangled. They are now past by, those hours Of friendship and forgiveness. Hate and vengeance Succeed--'tis now their turn--I too can throw All feelings of the man aside--can prove Myself as much a monster as thy father!

MAX. (_calmly_).

Thou wilt proceed with me, as thou hast power. Thou know'st, I neither brave nor fear thy rage. What has detain'd me here, that too thou know'st.

[_Taking_ THEKLA _by the hand_.]

See, Duke! All--all would I have owed to thee, Would have received from thy paternal hand The lot of blessed spirits. This hast thou Laid waste forever--that concerns not thee; Indifferent thou tramplest in the dust Their happiness who most are thine. The god Whom thou dost serve is no benignant deity Like as the blind, irreconcilable, Fierce element, incapable of compact, Thy heart's wild impulse only dost thou follow.[28]

WALLENST.

Thou art describing thy own father's heart. The adder! O, the charms of hell o'erpowered me; He dwelt within me, to my inmost soul Still to and fro he pass'd, suspected never On the wide ocean, in the starry heaven Did mine eyes seek the enemy, whom I In my heart's heart had folded! Had I been To _Ferdinand_ what Octavio was to _me_, War had I ne'er denounced against him. No, I never could have done it. The Emperor was My austere master only, not my friend. There was already war 'twixt him and me When he deliver'd the Commander's Staff Into my hands; for there's a natural, Unceasing war 'twixt cunning and suspicion; Peace exists only betwixt confidence And faith. Who poisons confidence, he murders The future generations.

MAX.

I will not Defend my father. Woe is me, I cannot! Hard deeds and luckless have ta'en place; one crime Drags after it the other in close link. But we are innocent: how have we fallen Into this circle of mishap and guilt? To whom have we been faithless? Wherefore must The evil deeds and guilt reciprocal Of our two fathers twine like serpents round us? Why must our fathers' Unconquerable hate rend us asunder, Who love each other?

WALLENSTEIN.

Max, remain with me. Go you not from me, Max! Hark! I will tell thee-- How when at Prague, our winter quarters, thou Wert brought into my tent a tender boy, Not yet accustom'd to the German winters; Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colors; Thou wouldst not let them go.-- At that time did I take thee in my arms, And with my mantle did I cover thee; I was thy nurse, no woman could have been A kinder to thee; I was not ashamed To do for thee all little offices, However strange to me; I tended thee Till life return'd; and when thine eyes first open'd, I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have Alter'd my feelings toward thee? Many thousands Have I made rich, presented them with lands; Rewarded them with dignities and honors; Thee have I _loved_: my heart, my self, I gave To thee! They all were aliens: THOU went Our child and inmate.[29] Max! Thou cans't not leave me; It cannot be; I may not, will not think That Max can leave me.

MAX.

O my God!

WALLENSTEIN.

I have Held and sustain'd thee from thy tottering childhood; What holy bond is there of natural love, What human tie, that does not knit thee to me? I love thee, Max! What did thy father for thee, Which I too have not done, to the height of duty? Go hence, forsake me, serve thy Emperor; He will reward thee with a pretty chain Of gold; with his ram's fleece will he reward thee; For that the friend, the father of thy youth, For that the holiest feeling of humanity, Was nothing worth to thee.

MAX.

O God! how can I Do otherwise? Am I not forced to do it? My oath--my duty--my honor--

WALLENSTEIN.

How? Thy duty? Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max! bethink thee What duties mayst _thou_ have? If _I_ am acting A criminal part toward the Emperor, It is my crime, not thine. Dost thou belong To thine own self? Art thou thine own commander? Stand'st thou, like me, a freeman in the world, That in thy actions thou shouldst plead free agency? On me thou'rt planted, I am thy Emperor; To obey _me_, to _belong_ to me, this is Thy honor, this a law of nature to thee! And if the planet, on the which thou livest And hast thy dwelling, from its orbit starts, It is not in thy choice whether or no Thou'lt follow it. Unfelt it whirls thee onward Together with his ring, and all his moons. With little guilt stepp'st thou into this contest, Thee will the world not censure, it will praise thee, For that thou held'st thy friend more worth to thee Than names and influences more removed; For justice is the virtue of the ruler, Affection and fidelity the subject's. Not every one doth it beseem to question The far-off high Arcturus. Most securely Wilt thou pursue the nearest duty: let The pilot fix his eye upon the pole-star.

SCENE XIX

_To these enter_ NEUMANN

WALLENST.

What now?

NEUMANN.

The Pappenheimers are dismounted, And are advancing now on foot, determined With sword in hand to storm the house, and free The Count, their colonel.

WALLENSTEIN (_to_ TERZKY).

Have the cannon planted.
I will receive them with chain-shot.

[_Exit_ TERZKY

Prescribe to me with sword in hand! Go, Neumann, 'Tis my command that they retreat this moment, And in their ranks in silence wait my pleasure.

[NEUMANN _exit_. ILLO _steps to the window_.]

COUNTESS. Let him go, I entreat thee, let him go.

ILLO (_at the window_).

Hell and perdition!

WALLENSTEIN.

What is it?

ILLO. They scale the council-house, the roof's uncovered, They level at this house the cannon--

MAX.

Madmen!

ILLO.

They are making preparations now to fire on us.

DUCHESS and COUNTESS. Merciful heaven!

MAX (_to_ WALLENSTEIN).

Let me go to them!

WALLENSTEIN.

Not a step!

MAX (_pointing to_ THEKLA _and the_ DUCHESS).

But their life! Thine!

WALLENSTEIN.

What tidings bring'st thou, Terzky?

SCENE XX

_To these_ TERZKY _returning_

TERZKY.

Message and greeting from our faithful regiments. Their ardor may no longer be curb'd in. They entreat permission to commence the attack; And if thou wouldst but give the word of onset, They could now charge the enemy in rear, Into the city wedge them, and with ease O'erpower them in the narrow streets.

ILLO.

O come! Let not their ardor cool. The soldiery Of Butler's corps stand by us faithfully; We are the greater number. Let us charge them, And finish here in Pilsen the revolt.

WALLENST.

What? shall this town become a field of slaughter, And brother-killing Discord, fire-eyed, Be let loose through its streets to roam and rage? Shall the decision be deliver'd over To deaf remorseless Rage, that hears no leader? Here is not room for battle, only for butchery. Well, let it be! I have long thought of it, So let it burst them!

[_Turns to_ MAX.]

Well, how is it with thee? Wilt thou attempt a heat with me? Away! Thou art free to go. Oppose thyself to me, Front against front, and lead them to the battle; Thou'rt skill'd in war, thou hast learn'd somewhat under me, I need not be ashamed of my opponent, And never hadst thou fairer opportunity To pay me for thy schooling.

COUNTESS.

Is it then, Can it have come to this?--What! Cousin, cousin! Have you the heart?

MAX.

The regiments that are trusted to my care I have pledged my troth to bring away from Pilsen True to the Emperor; and this promise will I Make good, or perish. More than this no duty Requires of me. I will not fight against thee, Unless compell'd; for though an enemy, Thy head is holy to me still.

[_Two reports of cannon_. ILLO _and_ TERZKY _hurry to the window_.]

WALLENST.

What's that?

TERZKY.

He falls.

WALLENSTEIN.

Falls! Who?

ILLO.

Tiefenbach's corps
Discharged the ordnance.

WALLENSTEIN.

Upon whom?

ILLO.

On Neumann,
Your messenger.

WALLENSTEIN (_starting up_).

Ha! Death and hell! I will--

TERZKY.

Expose thyself to their blind frenzy?

DUCHESS _and_ COUNTESS.

No!
For God's sake, no!

ILLO.

Not yet, my General
O hold him! hold him!

WALLENSTEIN.

Leave me.

MAX.

Do it not; Not yet! This rash and bloody deed has thrown them Into a frenzy-fit--allow them time--

WALLENST.

Away! too long already have I loiter'd. They are emboldened to these outrages, Beholding not my face. They shall behold My countenance, shall hear my voice-- Are they not _my_ troops? Am I not their General, And their long-fear'd commander? Let me see Whether indeed they do no longer know That countenance, which was their sun in battle! From the balcony (mark!) I show myself To these rebellious forces, and at once Revolt is mounded, and the high-swoln current Shrinks back into the old bed of obedience.

[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; ILLO, TERZKY, _and_ BUTLER _follow_.]

SCENE XXI

COUNTESS, DUCHESS, MAX _and_ THEKLA

COUNTESS (_to the_ DUCHESS).

Let them but see him--there is hope still, sister.

DUCHESS.

Hope! I have none!

MAX (_who during the last scene has been standing at a distance, in a visible struggle of feelings, advances_).

This can I not endure. With most determined soul did I come hither; My purposed action seem'd unblamable To my own conscience--and I must stand here Like one abhorr'd, a hard inhuman being: Yea, loaded with the curse of all I love! Must see all whom I love in this sore anguish, Whom I with one word can make happy--O! My heart revolts within me, and two voices Make themselves audible within my bosom. My soul's benighted; I no longer can Distinguish the right track. O, well and truly Didst thou say, father, I relied too much On my own heart. My mind moves to and fro-- know not what to do.

COUNTESS.

What! you know not? Does not your own heart tell you? O! then I Will tell it you. Your father is a traitor, A frightful traitor to us--he has plotted Against our General's life, has plunged us all In misery--and you're his son! 'Tis yours To make the _amends_--Make you the son's fidelity Outweigh the father's treason, that the name Of Piccolomini be not a proverb Of infamy, a common form of cursing To the posterity of Wallenstein.

MAX.

Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow! It speaks no longer in _my_ heart. We all But utter what our passionate wishes dictate: O that an angel would descend from heaven, And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted, With a pure hand from the pure fount of Light!

[_His eyes glance on_ THEKLA.]

What other angel seek I? To this heart, To this unerring heart, will I submit it; Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless The happy man alone, averted ever From the disquieted and guilty--_canst_ thou Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst, And I am the Duke's--

COUNTESS.

Think, niece--

MAX.

Think, nothing, Thekla!
Speak what thou _feelest_.

COUNTESS.

Think upon your father.

MAX.

I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. Thee, the beloved and the unerring god Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake? Not whether diadem of royalty Be to be won or not--that mightst thou _think_ on. Thy friend, and his soul's quiet, are at stake: The fortune of a thousand gallant men, Who will all follow me; shall I forswear My oath and duty to the Emperor? Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp The parricidal ball? For when the ball Has left its cannon, and is on its flight, It is no longer a dead instrument! It lives, a spirit passes into it, The avenging furies seize possession of it, And with sure malice guide it the worst way.

THEIKLA.

O! Max--

MAX (_interrupting her_).

Nay, not precipitately either, Thekla, I understand thee. To thy noble heart The hardest duty might appear the highest. The human, not the great part, would I act Even from my childhood to this present hour. Think what the Duke has done--for me, how loved me And think, too, how my father has repaid him. O likewise the free lovely impulses Of hospitality, the pious friend's Faithful attachment, these, too, are a holy Religion to the heart; and heavily The shudderings of nature do avenge Themselves on the barbarian that insults them. Lay all upon the balance, all--then speak, And let thy heart decide it.

THEKLA.

O, thy own Hath long ago decided. Follow thou Thy heart's first feeling--

COUNTESS.

Oh! ill-fated woman.

THEKLA.

Is it possible that that can be the right, The which thy tender heart did not at first Detect and seize with instant impulse? Go, Fulfil thy duty! I should ever love thee What'er thou hadst chosen, thou wouldst still have acted Nobly and worthy of thee--but repentance Shall ne'er disturb thy soul's fair peace.

MAX.

Then I
Must leave thee, must part from thee!

THEKLA.

Being faithful To thine own self, thou art faithful, too, to me; If our fates part, our hearts remain united. A bloody hatred will divide forever The houses Piccolomini and Friedland; But we belong not to our houses. Go! Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause From our unholy and unblessèd one! The curse of Heaven lies upon our head: 'Tis dedicate to ruin. Even me My father's guilt drags with it to perdition. Mourn not for me: My destiny will quickly be decided.

[MAX _clasps her in his arms in extreme emotion. There is heard from behind the scenes a loud, wild, long continued cry_, Vivat Ferdinandus! _accompanied by warlike instruments_. MAX _and_ THEKLA _remain without motion in each other's embraces_.]

SCENE XXII

_To the above enter_ TERZKY

COUNTESS (_meeting him_).

What meant that cry? What was it?

TERZKY.

All is lost!

COUNTESS.

What! they regarded not his countenance?

TERZKY.

'Twas all in vain.

DUCHESS.

They shouted Vivat!--

TERZKY.

To the Emperor.

COUNTESS.

The traitors!

TERZIBY.

Nay! he was not permitted Even to address them. Soon as he began, With deafening noise of warlike instruments They drown'd his words. But here he comes.

SCENE XXIII

_To these enter_ WALLENSTEIN, _accompanied by_ ILLO _and_ BUTLER

WALLENSTEIN (_as he enters_).

Terzky!

TERZKY.

My General!

WALLENSTEIN.

Let our regiments hold themselves In readiness to march; for we shall leave Pilsen ere evening.

[_Exit_ TERZKY.]

Butler!

BUTLER.

Yes, my General.

WALLENST.

The Governor of Egra is your friend And countryman. Write to him instantly By a post-courier. He must be advised, That we are with him early on the morrow. You follow us yourself, your regiment with you.

BUTLER.

It shall be done, my General!

WALLENSTEIN (_steps between_ MAX _and_ THEKLA, _who have remained during this time in each other's arms_).

Part!

MAX.

O God!

[Cuirassiers _enter with drawn swords, and assemble in the background. At the same time there are heard from below some spirited passages out of the Pappenheim March, which seem to address_ MAX.]

WALLENSTEIN (_to the Cuirassiers_).

Here he is, he is at liberty: I keep him No longer.

[_He turns away, and stands so that_ MAX _cannot pass by him nor approach the_ PRINCESS.]

MAX.

Thou know'st that I have not yet learnt to live Without thee! I go forth into a desert, Leaving my all behind me. O do not turn Thine eyes away from me! O once more show me Thy ever dear and honor'd countenance!

[MAX _attempts to take his hand, but is repelled; he turns to the_ COUNTESS.]

Is there no eye that has a look of pity for me?

[_The_ COUNTESS _turns away from him; he turns to the_ DUCHESS.]

My mother!

DUCHESS.

Go where duty calls you. Haply The time may come, when you may prove to us A true friend, a good angel at the throne Of the Emperor.

MAX.

You give me hope; you would not Suffer me wholly to despair. No! no! Mine is a certain misery. Thanks to Heaven! That offers me a means of ending it.

[_The military music begins again. The stage fills more and more with armed men_. MAX _sees_ BUTLER _and addresses him_.]

And you here, Colonel Butler--and will you Not follow me? Well, then! remain more faithful To your new lord than you have proved yourself To the Emperor. Come, Butler! promise me, Give me your hand upon it, that you'll be The guardian of his life, its shield, its watchman. He is attainted, and his princely head Fair booty for each slave that trades in murder. Now he doth need the faithful eye of friendship, And those whom here I see--

[_Casting suspicious looks on_ ILLO _and_ BUTLER.]

ILLO.

Go--seek for traitors In Gallas', in your father's quarters. Here Is only one. Away! away! and free us From his detested sight! Away!

[MAX _attempts once more to approach_ THEKLA. WALLENSTEIN _prevents him_. MAX _stands irresolute, and in apparent anguish. In the mean time the stage fills more and more; and the horns sound from below louder and louder, and each time after a shorter interval_.]

MAX.

Blow! blow! O were it but the Swedish trumpets, And all the naked swords, which I see here, Were plunged into my breast! What purpose you? You come to tear me from this place! Beware, Ye drive me not to desperation. Do it not! Ye may repent it!

[_The stage is entirely filled with armed men_.]

Yet more! weight upon weight to drag me down! Think what ye're doing. It is not well done To choose a man despairing for your leader; You tear me from my happiness. Well, then, I dedicate your souls to vengeance. Mark! For your own ruin you have chosen me: Who goes with me, must be prepared to perish.

[_He turns to the background, there ensues a sudden and violent movement among the Cuirassiers; they surround him, and carry him off in wild tumult_. WALLENSTEIN_ remains immovable_. THEKLA _sinks into her mother's arms. The curtain falls. The music becomes loud and overpowering, and passes into a complete war march--the orchestra joins it and continues during the interval between the second and third Act_.]