The Death of Wallenstein (play)
Page 11
From the balcony (mark!) I show myself
To these rebellious forces, and at once
Revolt is mounded, and the high-swollen 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 seemed unblamable
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. Oh, 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? Oh! 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:
Oh 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 mightest 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.
Oh! 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.
Oh 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.
Oh, 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 hast 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 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 in extreme emotion. There is heard
from behind the scene 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?
TERZKY.
Nay! he was not permitted
Even to address them. Soon as he began,
With deafening noise of warlike instruments
They drowned 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.
WALLENSTEIN.
The Governor of Egra is your friend
And countryman. Write 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. Oh, do not turn
Thine eyes away from me! Oh, once more show me
Thy ever dear and honored 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 THERLA. WALLENSTEIN prevents
him. MAX. stands irresolute, and in apparent anguish, In the
meantime 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! Oh, 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. THERLA 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 acts.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
The BURGOMASTER's house at Egra.
BUTLER (just arrived).
Here then he is by his destiny conducted.
Here, Friedland! and no further! From Bohemia
Thy meteor rose, traversed the sky awhile,
And here upon the borders of Bohemia
Must sink.
Thou hast forsworn the ancient colors,
Blind man! yet trustest to thy ancient fortunes.
Profaner of the altar and the hearth,
Against thy emperor and fellow-citizens
Thou meanest to wage the war. Friedland, beware-
The evil spirit of revenge impels thee-
Beware thou, that revenge destroy thee not!
SCENE II.
BUTLER and GORDON.
GORDON.
Is it you?
How my heart sinks! The duke a fugitive traitor!
His princely head attainted! Oh, my God!
Tell me, general, I implore thee, tell me
In full, of all these sad events at Pilsen.
BUTLER.
You have received the letter which I sent you
By a post-courier?
GORDON.
Yes: and in obedience to it
Opened the stronghold to him without scruple,
For an imperial letter orders me
To follow your commands implicitly.
But yet forgive me! when even now I saw
The duke himself, my scruples recommenced.
For truly, not like an attainted man,
Into this town did Friedland make his entrance;
His wonted majesty beamed from his brow,
And calm, as in the days when all was right,
Did he receive from me the accounts of office.
'Tis said, that fallen pride learns condescension.
But sparing and with dignity the duke
Weighed every syllable of approbation,
As masters praise a servant who has done
His duty and no more.
BUTLER.
'Tis all precisely
As I related in my letter. Friedland
Has sold the army to the enemy,
And pledged himself to give up Prague and Egra.
On this report the regiments all forsook him,
The five excepted that belong to Terzky,
And which have followed him, as thou hast seen.
The sentence of attainder is passed on him,
And every loyal subject is required
To give him in to justice, dead or living.
GORDON.
A traitor to the emperor. Such a noble!
Of such high talents! What is human greatness?
I often said, this can't end happily.
His might, his greatness, and this obscure power
Are but a covered pitfall. The human being
May not be trusted to self-government.
The clear and written law, the deep-trod footmarks
Of ancient custom, are all necessary
To keep him in the road of faith and duty.
The authority intrusted to this man
Was unexampled and unnatural,
It placed him on a level with his emperor,
Till the proud soul unlearned submission. Woe is me!
I mourn for him! for where he fell, I deem
Might none stand firm. Alas! dear general,
We in our lucky mediocrity
Have ne'er experienced, cannot calculate,
What dangerous wishes such a height may breed
In the heart of such a man.
BUTLER.
Spare your laments
Till he need sympathy; for at this present
He is still mighty, and still formidabl
e.
The Swedes advance to Egra by forced marches,
And quickly will the junction be accomplished.
This must not be! The duke must never leave
This stronghold on free footing; for I have
Pledged life and honor here to hold him prisoner,
And your assistance 'tis on which I calculate.
GORDON.
O that I had not lived to see this day!
From his hand I received this dignity,
He did himself intrust this stronghold to me,
Which I am now required to make his dungeon.
We subalterns have no will of our own:
The free, the mighty man alone may listen
To the fair impulse of his human nature.
Ah! we are but the poor tools of the law,
Obedience the sole virtue we dare aim at!
BUTLER.
Nay! let it not afflict you, that your power
Is circumscribed. Much liberty, much error!
The narrow path of duty is securest.
And all then have deserted him you say?