University of Virginia Library

ACT II

Scene I

Scene—A spacious Room in the Duke of Friedland's Palace.
Wallensten
(in armour).
Thou hast gained thy point, Octavio! Once more am I
Almost as friendless as at Regenspurg.
There I had nothing left me, but myself—
But what one man can do, you have now experience.
The twigs have you hewed 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 turned on me,
Their helper in distress; the Emperor's pride
Bowed 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 work-shop 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 unfilled.
Lead then your thousands out to meet me—true!
They are accustomed 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 Tertsky enter.)
Courage, friends! Courage! We are still unvanquished;
I feel my footing firm; five regiments, Tertsky,
Are still our own, and Butler's gallant troops;
And a 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 II

Wallenstein, Illo, Tertsky. (To them enter Neumann, who leads Tertsky aside, and talks with him.)
Tertsky.
What do they want?

Wallenstein.
What now?

Tertsky.
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 III

Wallenstein, Tertsky, Illo, Ten Cuirassiers (led by an Anspessade, 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).
Anspessade.

Halt! Front! Present!

Wallenstein
(after he has run through them with his eye, to the Anspessade).

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

Anspessade.

Henry Mercy.

Wallenstein.

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

Anspessade.

'Twas even so, General!

Wallenstein.

What reward hadst thou for this gallant exploit?

Anspessade.

That which I asked for: the honour 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.

Second Cuirassier.

Yes, General!

Wallenstein.

I forget no one with whom I have exchanged
words. (A pause).
Who sends you?

Anspessade.

Your noble regiment, the Cuirassiers of
Piccolomini.

Wallenstein.

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

Anspessade.

Because we would first know whom we serve.

Wallenstein.

Begin your address.

Anspessade
(giving the word of command).

Shoulder your arms!

Wallenstein
(turning to a third).

Thy name is Risbeck, Cologne
is thy birthplace.

Third Cuirassier.

Risbeck of Cologne.

Wallenstein.

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

Third Cuirassier.

It was not I, General!

Wallenstein.

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

Third Cuirassier.

He is stationed at Olmutz with the
Imperial army.

Wallenstein
(to the Anspessade).

Now then—begin.

Anspessade.
There came to hand a letter from the Emperor
Commanding us—

Wallenstein.
Who chose you?

Anspessade.
Every company
Drew its own man by lot.

Wallenstein.
Now! to the business.

Anspessade.
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.

Wallenstein.
And what did you determine?

Anspessade.
All our comrades
At Brannau, Budweiss, Prague and Olmutz, have
Obeyed already, and the regiments here,
Tiefenbach and Toscana, 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!
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.

Wallenstein.
Therein I recognize my Pappenheimers.

Anspessade.
And this proposal makes thy regiment to thee:
Is it thy purpose merely to preserve
In thy 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 shewn you honour
Above all others, suffered you to reason;
Have treated you as free men, and my orders
Were but the echoes of your prior suffrage.—

Anspessade.
Most fair and noble has thy conduct been
To us, my General! With thy confidence
Thou hast honoured us, and shewn us grace and favour
Beyond all other regiments; and thou seest
We follow not the common herd. We will
Stand by 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 thy country.

Wallenstein.
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 strong hold! 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 Lutzen!
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 Mansfield
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 travelled
O'er the war-wasted earth. And now, even now,
That we have well-nigh finished the hard toil,
The unthankful, the curse-laden toil of weapons,
With faithful indefatigable arm
Have rolled the heavy war-load up the hill,
Behold! this boy of the Emperor's bears away
The honours of the peace, an easy prize!
He'll weave, forsooth, into his flaxen locks
The olive branch, the hard-earn'd ornament
Of this grey head, grown grey beneath the helmet.

Anspessade.
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 led'st us out into 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—

Wallenstein.
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
Endeavoured 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.
No! let us tread securely, seek for friends;
The Swedes have proffered 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!

Anspessade.
'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 IV

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.

Wallenstein.
But what?

Butler.
It is an open proclamation
Of insurrection.

Wallenstein.
Well, well—but what is it?

Butler.
Count Tertsky's regiments tear the Imperial Eagle
From off the banners, and instead of it,
Have reared aloft thy arms.

Anspessade
(abruptly to the Cuirassiers).
Right about! March!

Wallenstein.
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—
A cruel game is fortune playing with me.
The zeal of friends it is that razes me,
And not the hate of enemies.

Scene V

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 Tertsky).
Is there no hope? Is all lost utterly?

Tertsky.
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?

Tertsky.
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 Tertsky).
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.

Tertsky.
What shall we make of this?

Wallenstein.
Said I not so?
O my prophetic heart! he is still here.
He has not betrayed 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 for ever.

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

Thekla
(her eye fixed on the door).
There he is!

Scene VI

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 favourable moment.
This loitering, this suspense exceeds my powers.
[Advancing to Thekla.
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 for ever.
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 concerned.

Wallenstein.
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 honour
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.
Thou wilt proceed with me, as thou hast power.
Thou know'st, I neither brave nor fear thy rage.
What has detained 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 for ever—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 irreconcileable
Fierce element, incapable of compact,
Thy heart's wild impulse only dost thou follow.

Wallenstein.
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 passed, 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 delivered 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 accustomed to the German winters;
Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colours;
Thou would'st 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 returned; and when thine eyes first opened,
I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have I
Altered my feelings towards thee? Many thousands
Have I made rich, presented them with lands;
Rewarded them with dignities and honours;
Thee have I loved: my heart, my self, I gave
To thee! They all were aliens: thou wert
Our child and inmate. Max! Thou canst 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 sustained 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—honour—

Wallenstein.
How? Thy duty?
Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max! bethink thee
What duties may'st 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 should'st plead free agency?
On me thou'rt planted, I am thy Emperor;
To obey me, to belong to me, this is
Thy honour, this a law of nature to thee!
And if the planet, on the which thou liv'st
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 heldst 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 VII

To these enter Neumann.
Wallenstein.
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 Tertsky).
Have the cannon planted.
I will receive them with chain-shot.
[Exit Tertsky.
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, Tertsky?

Scene VIII

To these Tertsky (returning).
Tertsky.
Message and greeting from our faithful regiments.
Their ardour may no longer be curbed in.
They intreat permission to commence the attack,
And if thou would'st 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 ardour 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.

Wallenstein.
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 delivered 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 then!
[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 skilled in war, thou hast learned somewhat under me,
I need not be ashamed of my opponent,
And never had'st 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 compelled; for though an enemy,
Thy head is holy to me still.

[Two reports of cannon. Illo and Tertsky hurry to the window.
Wallenstein.
What's that?

Tertsky.
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—

Tertsky.
Expose thyself to their blind frenzy?

Duchess and Countess.
No!
For God's sake, no!

Illo.
Not yet, my General!

Countess.
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—

Wallenstein.
Away! too long already have I loitered.
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-feared commander? Let me see,
Whether indeed they do no longer know
That countenance, which was their sun in battle!
From the balcony (mark!) I shew 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, Tertsky, and Butler follow.

Scene IX

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 advances).
This can I not endure.
With most determined soul did I come hither,
My purposed action seemed unblameable
To my own conscience—and I must stand here
Like one abhorred, 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—
I 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 might'st 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.

Thekla.
O! Max—

Max.
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.
Ev'n 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.
Whate'er thou had'st chosen, thou would'st 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 for ever
The houses Piccolomini and Friedland;
But we belong not to our houses—Go!
Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause
From our unholy and unblessed 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. There is heard from behind the Scene a loud, wild, long continued cry, ‘Vivat Ferdinandus,’ accompanied by warlike instruments.

Scene X

To these enter Tertsky.
Countess
(meeting him).
What meant that cry? What was it?

Tertsky.
All is lost!

Countess.
What! they regarded not his countenance?

Tertsky.
'Twas all in vain.

Duchess.
They shouted Vivat!

Tertsky.
To the Emperor.

Countess.
The traitors!

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

Scene XI

To these enter Wallenstein, accompanied by Illo and Butler.
Wallenstein
(as he enters).
Tertsky!

Tertsky.
My General?

Wallenstein.
Let our regiments hold themselves
In readiness to march; for we shall leave
Pilsen ere evening.
[Exit Tertsky.
Butler!

Butler.
Yes, my General.

Wallenstein.
The Governor at 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).
Part!

Max.
O God!

[Cuirassiers enter with drawn swords, and assemble in

---

763

the back-ground. 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 shew me
Thy ever dear and honoured 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 Galas, 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 in 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.