The Death of Wallenstein, Friedrich Schiller [learn to read books txt] 📗

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 dismissed 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. Oh, that stern, unbending man! In this unhappy marriage what have I Not suffered, not endured? For even as if I had been linked on to some wheel of fire That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onward, I have passed 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.

THEELA. Oh, 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-starred day at Regensburg, Which plunged him headlong from his dignity, A gloomy, uncompanionable spirit, Unsteady and suspicious, has possessed 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 turned his heart and best affections All to those cloudy sciences which never Have yet made happy him who followed 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 dishevelled. 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 narks 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.

WALLENSTEIN. All quiet in the camp?

ILLO.
It is all quiet.

WALLENSTEIN. 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.

WALLENSTEIN, I find we must not give implicit credence To every warning voice that makes itself Be listened 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 wronged 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 warned, 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's 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.

WALLENSTEIN.
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 Thy 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 overburdened 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 expressed 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! Oh, she is ill - -

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

COUNTESS.
Since then herself Has now betrayed 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 never 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 needest 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.

WALLENSTEIN. 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 - -

WALLENSTEIN. 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 - -

WALLENSTEIN. Win him my heart, but not my daughter.

DUCHESS.
Then His rank, his ancestors - -

WALLENSTEIN.
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