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 Terzky 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.
Oh, 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.
Oh 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 churchyard 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 me.
DUCHESS (to THEKLA, who starts and shivers).
There-pale as death! Child, 'tis impossible
That thou shouldst speak with him. Follow thy mother.
THEKLA.
The Lady Neubrunn then may stay with me.
[Exeunt DUCHESS and COUNTESS.
SCENE X.
THEKLA, THE SWEDISH CAPTAIN, LADY NEUBRUNN.
CAPTAIN (respectfully approaching her).
Princess-I must entreat your gentle pardon-
My inconsiderate rash speech. How could!--
THEKLA (with dignity).
You have beheld 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,
Intrenched 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 leaped 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 leaped 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.
THERLA.
'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 spurned; they fought like wounded tigers; their
Frantic resistance roused our soldiery;
A murderous fight took place, nor was the contest
Finished before their last man fell.
THEKLA (faltering).
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 honor 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.
NEUBRUNN (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 Catherine's.
THEKLA.
And how far is it thither?
CAPTAIN.
Near twelve leagues.
THEKLA.
And which the way?
CAPTAIN.
You go by Tirschenreut
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 shown a feeling heart. Please you, accept
[Giving him the ring.
A small memorial of this hour. Now go!
CAPTAIN (confusedly).
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 XI.
THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN.
THEKLA (falls on LADY NEUBRUNN's neck).
Now gentle Neubrunn, show me the affection
Which tho
u 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 wouldst thou not have asked, hadst thou e'er loved.
There, that 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 arm 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.
Oh 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 XII.
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. Oh, my only hope;
To die beneath the hoofs of trampling steeds-
That is a lot of heroes upon earth!
[Exit THEKLA. [10]
(The Curtain drops.)
SCENE XIII.
THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN, and ROSENBERG.
NEUBRUNN.
He is here, lady, and he will procure them.
THEKLA.
Wilt thou provide us horses, Rosenberg?
ROSENBERG.
I will, my lady.
THEKLA.
And go with us as well?
ROSENBERG.
To the world's end, my lady.
THEKLA.
But consider,
Thou never canst return unto the duke.
ROSENBERG.
I will remain with thee.
THEKLA.
I will reward thee.
And will commend thee to another master.
Canst thou unseen conduct us from the castle?
ROSENBERG.
I can.
THEKLA.
When can I go?
ROSENBERG.
This very hour.
But whither would you, lady?
THEKLA.
To-Tell him, Neubrunn.
NEUBRUNN.
To Neustadt.
ROSENBERG.
So; I leave you to get ready.
[Exit.
NEUBRUNN.
Oh, see, your mother comes.
THEKLA.
Indeed! O Heaven!
SCENE XIV.
THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN, the DUCHESS.
DUCHESS.
He's gone! I find thee more composed, my child.
THEKLA.
I am so, mother; let me only now
Retire to rest, and Neubrunn here be with me.
I want repose.
DUCHESS.
My Thekla, thou shalt have it.
I leave thee now consoled, since I can calm
Thy father's heart.
THEKLA.
Good night, beloved mother!
(Falling on her neck and embracing her with deep emotion).
DUCHESS.
Thou scarcely art composed e'en now, my daughter.
Thou tremblest strongly, and I feel thy heart
Beat audibly on mine.
THEKLA.
Sleep will appease
Its beating: now good-night, good-night, dear mother.
(As she withdraws from her mother's arms the curtain falls).
ACT V.
The Death of Wallenstein (play) Page 14