University of Virginia Library

ACT IV

Scene I

Scene—Butler's Chamber.
Butler, and Major Geraldin.
Butler.
Find me twelve strong dragoons, arm them with pikes,
For there must be no firing—
Conceal them somewhere near the banquet-room,
And soon as the dessert is served up, rush all in
And cry—Who is loyal to the Emperor?
I will overturn the table—while you attack
Illo and Tertsky, and dispatch them both.
The castle-palace is well barred and guarded,
That no intelligence of this proceeding
May make its way to the Duke.—Go instantly;
Have you yet sent for Captain Devereux
And the Macdonald?—

Geraldin.
They'll be here anon.

[Exit Geraldin.
Butler.
Here's no room for delay. The citizens
Declare for him, a dizzy drunken spirit
Possesses the whole town. They see in the Duke
A Prince of peace, a founder of new ages
And golden times. Arms too have been given out
By the town-council, and a hundred citizens
Have volunteered themselves to stand on guard.
Dispatch then be the word. For enemies
Threaten us from without and from within.

Scene II

Butler, Captain Devereux. and Macdonald.
Macdonald.
Here we are, General.

Devereux.
What's to be the watchword?

Butler.
Long live the Emperor!

Both
(recoiling).
How?

Butler.
Live the House of Austria!

Devereux.
Have we not sworn fidelity to Friedland?

Macdonald.
Have we not marched to this place to protect him?

Butler.
Protect a traitor, and his country's enemy!

Devereux.
Why, yes! in his name you administered
Our oath.

Macdonald.
And followed him yourself to Egra.

Butler.
I did it the more surely to destroy him.

Devereux.
So then!

Macdonald.
An altered case!

Butler
(to Devereux).
Thou wretched man!
So easily leav'st thou thy oath and colours?

Devereux.
The devil!—I but followed your example,
If you could prove a villain, why not we?

Macdonald.
We've nought to do with thinking—that's your business.
You are our General, and give out the orders;
We follow you, though the track lead to hell.

Butler.
Good then! we know each other.

Macdonald.
I should hope so.

Devereux.
Soldiers of fortune are we—who bids most.
He has us.

Macdonald.
'Tis e'en so!

Butler.
Well, for the present
Ye must remain honest and faithful soldiers.

Devereux.
We wish no other.

Butler.
Ay, and make your fortunes.

Macdonald.
That is still better.

Butler.
Listen!

Both.
We attend.

Butler.
It is the Emperor's will and ordinance
To seize the person of the Prince-Duke Friedland,
Alive or dead.

Devereux.
It runs so in the letter.

Macdonald.
Alive or dead—these were the very words.

Butler.
And he shall be rewarded from the State
In land and gold, who proffers aid thereto.

Devereux.
Ay? That sounds well. The words sound always well
That travel hither from the Court. Yes! yes!
We know already what Court-words import.
A golden chain perhaps in sign of favour,
Or an old charger, or a parchment patent,
And such like.—The Prince-duke pays better.

Macdonald.
Yes,
The Duke's a splendid paymaster.

Butler.
All over
With that, my friends! His lucky stars are set.

Macdonald.
And is that certain?

Butler.
You have my word for it.

Devereux.
His lucky fortunes all past by?

Butler.
For ever.
He is as poor as we.

Macdonald.
As poor as we?

Devereux.
Macdonald, we'll desert him.

Butler.
We'll desert him?
Full twenty thousand have done that already;
We must do more, my countrymen! In short—
We—we must kill him.

Both.
Kill him!

Butler.
Yes! must kill him.
And for that purpose have I chosen you.

Both.
Us!

Butler.
You, Captain Devereux, and thee, Macdonald.

Devereux
(after a pause).
Choose you some other.

Butler.
What? art dastardly?
Thou, with full thirty lives to answer for—
Thou conscientious of a sudden?

Devereux.
Nay,
To assassinate our Lord and General—

Macdonald.
To whom we've sworn a soldier's oath—

Butler.
The oath
Is null, for Friedland is a traitor.

Devercux.
No, no! It is too bad!

Macdonald.
Yes, by my soul!
It is too bad. One has a conscience too—

Devereux.
If it were not our chieftain, who so long
Has issued the commands, and claim'd our duty.

Butler.
Is that the objection?

Devereux.
Were it my own father,
And the Emperor's service should demand it of me,
It might be done perhaps—But we are soldiers,
And to assassinate our chief commander,
That is a sin, a foul abomination,
From which no monk or confessor absolves us.

Butler.
I am your Pope, and give you absolution.
Determine quickly!

Devereux.
'Twill not do!

Macdonald.
'Twon't do!

Butler.
Well, off then! and—send Pestalutz to me.

Devereux.
The Pestalutz—

Macdonald.
What may you want with him?

Butler.
If you reject it, we can find enough—

Devereux.
Nay, if he must fall, we may earn the bounty
As well as any other. What think you,
Brother Macdonald?

Macdonald.
Why if he must fall,
And will fall, and it can't be otherwise,
One would not give place to this Pestalutz.

Devereux.
When do you purpose he should fall?

Butler.
This night.
To-morrow will the Swedes be at our gates.

Devereux.
You take upon you all the consequences!

Butler.
I take the whole upon me.

Devereux.
And it is
The Emperor's will, his express absolute will?
For we have instances, that folks may like
The murder, and yet hang the murderer.

Butler.
The manifesto says—alive or dead.
Alive—'tis not possible—you see it is not.

Devereux.
Well, dead then! dead! But how can we come at him?
The town is fill'd with Tertsky's soldiery.

Macdonald.
Ay! and then Tertsky still remains, and Illo—

Butler.
With these you shall begin—you understand me?

Devereux.
How? And must they too perish?

Butler.
They the first.

Macdonald.
Hear, Devereux? A bloody evening this.

Devereux.
Have you a man for that? Commission me—

Butler.
'Tis given in trust to Major Geraldin;
This is a carnival night, and there's a feast
Given at the castle—there we shall surprise them,
And hew them down. The Pestalutz and Lesley
Have that commission—soon as that is finished—

Devereux.
Hear, General! It will be all one to you.
Hark'e! let me exchange with Geraldin.

Butler.
'Twill be the lesser danger with the Duke.

Devereux.
Danger! The devil! What do you think me, General?
'Tis the Duke's eye, and not his sword, I fear.

Butler.
What can his eye do to thee?

Devereux.
Death and hell!
Thou know'st that I'm no milk-sop, General!
But 'tis not eight days since the Duke did send me
Twenty gold pieces for this good warm coat
Which I have on! and then for him to see me
Standing before him with the pike, his murderer,
That eye of his looking upon this coat—
Why—why—the devil fetch me! I'm no milk-sop!

Butler.
The Duke presented thee this good warm coat,
And thou, a needy wight, hast pangs of conscience
To run him through the body in return.
A coat that is far better and far warmer
Did the Emperor give to him, the Prince's mantle.
How doth he thank the Emperor? With revolt,
And treason.

Devereux.
That is true. The devil take
Such thankers! I'll dispatch him.

Butler.
And would'st quiet
Thy conscience, thou hast nought to do but simply
Pull off the coat; so canst thou do the deed
With light heart and good spirits.

Devereux.
You are right.
That did not strike me. I'll pull off the coat—
So there's an end of it.

Macdonald.
Yes, but there's another
Point to be thought of.

Butler.
And what's that, Macdonald?

Macdonald.
What avails sword or dagger against him?
He is not to be wounded—he is—

Butler.
What?

Macdonald.
Safe against shot, and stab and flash! Hard frozen,
Secured, and warranted by the black art!
His body is impenetrable, I tell you.

Devereux.
In Inglestadt there was just such another—
His whole skin was the same as steel; at last
We were obliged to beat him down with gunstocks.

Macdonald.
Hear what I'll do.

Devereux.
Well?

Macdonald.
In the cloister here
There's a Dominican, my countryman.
I'll make him dip my sword and pike for me
In holy water, and say over them
One of his strongest blessings. That's probatum!
Nothing can stand 'gainst that.

Butler.
So do, Macdonald!
But now go and select from out the regiment
Twenty or thirty able-bodied fellows,
And let them take the oaths to the Emperor.
Then when it strikes eleven, when the first rounds
Are passed, conduct them silently as may be
To the house—I will myself be not far off.

Devereux.
But how do we get through Hartschier and Gordon,
That stand on guard there in the inner chamber?

Butler.
I have made myself acquainted with the place.
I lead you through a back-door that's defended
By one man only. Me my rank and office
Give access to the Duke at every hour.
I'll go before you—with one poniard-stroke
Cut Hartschier's wind-pipe, and make way for you.

Devereux.
And when we are there, by what means shall we gain
The Duke's bed-chamber, without his alarming
The servants of the Court; for he has here
A numerous company of followers?

Butler.
The attendants fill the right wing; he hates bustle,
And lodges in the left wing quite alone.

Devereux.
Were it well over—hey, Macdonald? I
Feel queerly on the occasion, devil knows!

Macdonald.
And I too. 'Tis too great a personage.
People will hold us for a brace of villains.

Butler.
In plenty, honour, splendour—You may safely
Laugh at the people's babble.

Devereux.
If the business
Squares with one's honour—if that be quite certain—

Butler.
Set your hearts quite at ease. Ye save for Ferdinand
His Crown and Empire. The reward can be
No small one.

Devereux.
And 'tis his purpose to dethrone the Emperor?

Butler.
Yes!—Yes!—to rob him of his crown and life.

Devereux.
And he must fall by the executioner's hands,
Should we deliver him up to the Emperor
Alive?

Butler.
It were his certain destiny.

Devereux.
Well! Well! Come then, Macdonald, he shall not
Lie long in pain.

[Exeunt Butler through one door, Macdonald and Devereux through the other.

Scene III

Scene—A Gothic Apartment at the Duchess Friedland's. Thekla on a seat, pale, her eyes closed. The Duchess and Lady Neubrunn busied about her. Wallenstein and the Countess in conversation.
Wallenstein.
How knew she it so soon?

Countess.
She seems to have
Foreboded some misfortune. The report
Of an engagement, in the which had fallen
A colonel of the Imperial army, frighten'd her.
I saw it instantly. She flew to meet
The Swedish Courier, and with sudden questioning,
Soon wrested from him the disastrous secret.
Too late we missed her, hastened after her,
We found her lying in his arms, all pale
And in a swoon.

Wallenstein.
A heavy, heavy blow!
And she so unprepared! Poor child! How is it?
[Turning to the Duchess.
Is she coming to herself?

Duchess.
Her eyes are opening.

Countess.
She lives.

Thekla
(looking around her).
Where am I?

Wallenstein
(steps to her, raising her up in his arms).
Come, cheerly, Thekla! be my own brave girl!
See, there's thy loving mother. Thou art in
Thy father's arms.

Thekla
(standing up).
Where is he? Is he gone?

Duchess.
Who gone, my daughter?

Thekla.
He—the man who uttered
That word of misery.

Duchess.
O! think not of it,
My Thekla!

Wallenstein.
Give her sorrow leave to talk!
Let her complain—mingle your tears with hers,
For she hath suffered a deep anguish; but
She'll rise superior to it, for my Thekla
Hath all her father's unsubdued heart.

Thekla.
I am not ill. See, I have power to stand.
Why does my mother weep? Have I alarmed her?
It is gone by—I recollect myself—
[She casts her eyes round the room, as seeking some one.
Where is he? Please you, do not hide him from me.
You see I have strength enough: now I will hear him.

Duchess.
No, never shall this messenger of evil
Enter again into thy presence, Thekla!

Thekla.
My father—

Wallenstein.
Dearest daughter!

Thekla.
I'm not weak—
Shortly I shall be quite myself again.
You'll grant me one request?

Wallenstein.
Name it, my daughter.

Thekla.
Permit the stranger to be called to me,
And grant me leave, that by myself I may
Hear his report and question him.

Duchess.
No, never!

Countess.
'Tis not advisable—assent not to it.

Wallenstein.
Hush! Wherefore would'st thou speak with him, my daughter?

Thekla.
Knowing the whole, I shall be more collected;
I will not be deceived. My mother wishes
Only to spare me. I will not be spared.
The worst is said already: I can hear
Nothing of deeper anguish!

Countess and Duchess.
Do it not.

Thekla.
The horror overpowered me by surprise.
My heart betrayed me in the stranger's presence;
He was a witness of my weakness, yea,
I sank into his arms; and that has shamed me.
I must replace myself in his esteem,
And I must speak with him, perforce, that he,
The stranger, may not think ungently of me.

Wallenstein.
I see she is in the right, and am inclined
To grant her this request of hers. Go, call him.

[Lady Neubrunn goes to call him.
Duchess.
But I, thy mother, will be present—

Thekla.
'Twere
More pleasing to me, if alone I saw him:
Trust me, I shall behave myself the more
Collectedly.

Wallenstein.
Permit her her own will.
Leave her alone with him: for there are sorrows,
Where of necessity the soul must be
Its own support. A strong heart will rely
On its own strength alone. In her own bosom,
Not in her mother's arms, must she collect
The strength to rise superior to this blow.
It is mine own brave girl. I'll have her treated
Not as the woman, but the heroine.

[Going.
Countess
(detaining him).
Where art thou going? I heard Tertsky say
That 'tis thy purpose to depart from hence
To-morrow early, but to leave us here.

Wallenstein.
Yes, ye stay here, placed under the protection
Of gallant men.

Countess.
O take us with you, brother.
Leave us not in this gloomy solitude
To brood o'er anxious thoughts. The mists of doubt
Magnify evils to a shape of horror.

Wallenstein.
Who speaks of evil? I entreat you, sister,
Use words of better omen.

Countess.
Then take us with you.
O leave us not behind you in a place
That forces us to such sad omens. Heavy
And sick within me is my heart—
These walls breathe on me, like a church-yard vault.
I cannot tell you, brother, how this place
Doth go against my nature. Take us with you.
Come, sister, join you your entreaty!—Niece,
Yours too. We all entreat you, take us with you!

Wallenstein.
The place's evil omens will I change,
Making it that which shields and shelters for me
My best beloved.

Lady Neubrunn
(returning).
The Swedish officer.

Wallenstein.
Leave her alone with him.

[Exit.
Duchess
(to Thekla who starts and shivers).
There—pale as death!—Child, 'tis impossible
That thou should'st speak with him. Follow thy mother.

Thekla.
The Lady Neubrunn then may stay with me.

[Exeunt Duchess and Countess.

Scene IV

Thekla, the Swedish Captain, Lady Neubrunn.
Captain.
Princess—I must entreat your gentle pardon—
My inconsiderate rash speech—How could I—

Thekla.
You did behold me in my agony.
A most distressful accident occasioned
You from a stranger to become at once
My confidant.

Captain.
I fear you hate my presence,
For my tongue spake a melancholy word.

Thekla.
The fault is mine. Myself did wrest it from you.
The horror which came o'er me interrupted
Your tale at its commencement. May it please you,
Continue it to the end.

Captain.
Princess, 'twill
Renew your anguish.

Thekla.
I am firm.—
I will be firm. Well—how began the engagement?

Captain.
We lay, expecting no attack, at Neustadt,
Entrenched but insecurely in our camp,
When towards evening rose a cloud of dust
From the wood thitherward; our vanguard fled
Into the camp, and sounded the alarm.
Scarce had we mounted, ere the Pappenheimers,
Their horses at full speed, broke through the lines,
And leapt the trenches; but their heedless courage
Had borne them onward far before the others—
The infantry were still at distance, only
The Pappenheimers followed daringly
Their daring leader—

[Thekla betrays agitation in her gestures. The officer pauses till she makes a sign to him to proceed.
Captain.
Both in van and flanks
With our whole cavalry we now received them;
Back to the trenches drove them, where the foot
Stretched out a solid ridge of pikes to meet them.
They neither could advance, nor yet retreat;
And as they stood on every side wedged in,
The Rhinegrave to their leader called aloud,
Inviting a surrender; but their leader,
Young Piccolomini—
[Thekla, as giddy, grasps a chair.
Known by his plume,
And his long hair, gave signal for the trenches;
Himself leapt first, the regiment all plunged after.
His charger, by a halbert gored, reared up,
Flung him with violence off, and over him
The horses, now no longer to be curbed,—

[Thekla, who has accompanied the last speech with all the marks of increasing agony, trembles through her whole frame, and is falling. The Lady Neubrunn runs to her, and receives her in her arms.
Neubrunn.
My dearest lady—

Captain.
I retire.

Thekla.
'Tis over.
Proceed to the conclusion.

Captain.
Wild despair
Inspired the troops with frenzy when they saw
Their leader perish; every thought of rescue
Was spurn'd; they fought like wounded tigers; their
Frantic resistance rous'd our soldiery;
A murderous fight took place, nor was the contest
Finish'd before their last man fell.

Thekla.
And where—
Where is—You have not told me all.

Captain
(after a pause).
This morning
We buried him. Twelve youths of noblest birth
Did bear him to interment; the whole army
Followed the bier. A laurel decked his coffin;
The sword of the deceased was placed upon it,
In mark of honour, by the Rhinegrave's self.
Nor tears were wanting; for there are among us
Many, who had themselves experienced
The greatness of his mind, and gentle manners;
All were affected at his fate. The Rhinegrave
Would willingly have saved him; but himself
Made vain the attempt—'tis said he wished to die.

Ncubrunn
(to Thekla who has hidden her countenance).
Look up, my dearest lady—

Thekla.
Where is his grave?

Captain.
At Neustadt, lady; in a cloister church
Are his remains deposited, until
We can receive directions from his father.

Thekla.
What is the cloister's name?

Captain.
Saint Catharine's.

Thekla.
And how far is it thither?

Captain.
Near twelve leagues.

Thekla.
And which the way?

Captain.
You go by Tirschenreit
And Falkenberg, through our advanced posts.

Thekla.
Who
Is their commander?

Captain.
Colonel Seckendorf.

[Thekla steps to the table, and takes a ring from a casket.
Thekla.
You have beheld me in my agony,
And shewn a feeling heart. Please you, accept
[Giving him the ring.
A small memorial of this hour. Now go!

Captain.
Princess—

[Thekla silently makes signs to him to go, and turns from him. The Captain lingers, and is about to speak. Lady Neubrunn repeats the signal, and he retires.

Scene V

Thekla, Lady Neubrunn.
Thekla
(falls on Lady Neubrunn's neck).
Now, gentle Neubrunn, shew me the affection
Which thou hast ever promised—prove thyself
My own true friend and faithful fellow-pilgrim.
This night we must away!

Neubrunn.
Away! and whither?

Thekla.
Whither! There is but one place in the world.
Thither where he lies buried! To his coffin!

Neubrunn.
What would you do there?

Thekla.
What do there?
That would'st thou not have asked, hadst thou e'er loved.
There, there is all that still remains of him.
That single spot is the whole earth to me.

Neubrunn.
That place of death—

Thekla.
Is now the only place,
Where life yet dwells for me: detain me not!
Come and make preparations: let us think
Of means to fly from hence.

Neubrunn.
Your father's rage—

Thekla.
That time is past—
And now I fear no human being's rage.

Neubrunn.
The sentence of the world! The tongue of calumny!

Thekla.
Whom am I seeking? Him who is no more.
Am I then hastening to the arms—O God!
I haste but to the grave of the beloved.

Neubrunn.
And we alone, two helpless feeble women?

Thekla.
We will take weapons: my arms shall protect thee.

Neubrunn.
In the dark night-time?

Thekla.
Darkness will conceal us.

Neubrunn.
This rough tempestuous night—

Thekla.
Had he a soft bed
Under the hoofs of his war-horses?

Neubrunn.
Heaven!
And then the many posts of the enemy!—

Thekla.
They are human beings. Misery travels free
Through the whole earth.

Neubrunn.
The journey's weary length—

Thekla.
The pilgrim, travelling to a distant shrine
Of hope and healing, doth not count the leagues.

Neubrunn.
How can we pass the gates?

Thekla.
Gold opens them.
Go, do but go.

Neubrunn.
Should we be recognized—

Thekla.
In a despairing woman, a poor fugitive,
Will no one seek the daughter of Duke Friedland.

Neubrunn.
And where procure we horses for our flight?

Thekla.
My equerry procures them. Go and fetch him.

Neubrunn.
Dares he, without the knowledge of his lord?

Thekla.
He will. Go, only go. Delay no longer.

Neubrunn.
Dear lady! and your mother?

Thekla.
Oh! my mother!

Neubrunn.
So much as she has suffered too already;
Your tender mother—Ah! how ill prepared
For this last anguish!

Thekla.
Woe is me! my mother!
[Pauses.
Go instantly.

Neubrunn.
But think what you are doing!

Thekla.
What can be thought, already has been thought.

Neubrunn.
And being there, what purpose you to do?

Thekla.
There a divinity will prompt my soul.

Neubrunn.
Your heart, dear lady, is disquieted!
And this is not the way that leads to quiet.

Thekla.
To a deep quiet, such as he has found.
It draws me on, I know not what to name it,
Resistless does it draw me to his grave.
There will my heart be eased, my tears will flow.
O hasten, make no further questioning!
There is no rest for me till I have left
These walls—they fall in on me—A dim power
Drives me from hence—Oh mercy! What a feeling!
What pale and hollow forms are those! They fill,
They crowd the place! I have no longer room here!
Mercy! Still more! More still! The hideous swarm!
They press on me; they chase me from these walls—
Those hollow, bodiless forms of living men!

Neubrunn.
You frighten me so, lady, that no longer
I dare stay here myself. I go and call
Rosenberg instantly.

[Exit Lady Neubrunn.

Scene VI

Thekla.
His spirit 'tis that calls me: 'tis the troop
Of his true followers, who offered up
Themselves to avenge his death: and they accuse me
Of an ignoble loitering—they would not
Forsake their leader even in his death—they died for him!
And shall I live?—
For me too was that laurel-garland twined
That decks his bier. Life is an empty casket:
I throw it from me. O! my only hope;—
To die beneath the hoofs of trampling steeds—
That is the lot of heroes upon earth!

[Exit Thekla.
(The curtain drops.)