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The five is the first number that's made up
Ey! let him alone though. I like to hear him; But what's too late ? Bethink yourself, my friend,
there is more in his words than can be seen at first That you are talking absolute riddles to me. sight.
Off, they come.
SECOND SERVANT. Which he appointed you for audience. Come !
There! at the side-door. A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey! [He leads QUESTENBERG off.
[They hurry off. Sens follows slowly. A Page
brings the staff of command on red cushion,
wings of the door fly open.
WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS. somewhat fantastically. He carries a white staff, with which he marks out the quarters of the heaven. You went then through Vienna, were presented FIRST SERVANT.
To the Queen of Hungary? Come-toit, lads, to it! Make an end of it. I hear the sentry call out, “ Stand to your arms!” They will
Yes; and to the Empress too, be there in a minute.
And by both Majesties were we admitted
To kiss the hand. Why were we not told before that the audience
WALLENSTEIN. would be held here ? Nothing prepared-no orders
And how was it received, -no instructions
That I had sent for wife and daughter hither
To the camp, in winter-time? Ay, and why was the balcony-chamber countermanded, that with the great worked carpel ?—there
I did even that one can look about one.
Which you commission'd me to do. I told them, FIRST SERVANT.
You had determined on our daughter's marriage, Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. And wish'd, ere yet you went into the field, He says it is an unlucky chamber.
To show the elected husband his betrothed.
WALLENSTEIN. Poh! stuff and nonsense! That's what I call a hum. And did they guess the choice which I had made ? A chamber is a chamber; what much can the place signify in the affair ?
They only hoped and wish'd it may have fallen
Upon no foreign nor yet Lutheran noble.
And you—what do you wish, Elizabeth ?
Your will, you know, was always mine.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause). let him have his own will.
Well then? SENI (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low And in all else, of what kind and complexion
voice, till he comes to eleven, which he repeats). Was your reception at the court? Eleven! an evil number! Set twelve chairs.
(The Duchess casts her eyes on the ground, and Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac: five and seven,
remains silent. The holy numbers, include themselves in twelve. Hide nothing from me. How were you received ?
And what may you have to object against eleven? O! my dear Lord, all is not what it was. I should like to know that now.
A canker-worm, my Lord, a canker-worm
Has stolen into the bud.
Ay! is it so?
What, they were lax ? they fail'd of the old respect That's good! and why do you call five a holy number?
Not of respect. No honors were omitted,
No outward courtesy ? but in the place Five is the soul of man : for even as man
Of condescending, confidential kindness, Is mingled up of good and evil, so
Familiar and endearing, there were given me
Only these honors and that solemn courtesy.
I cannot utter it!
duct, They rail'd at it, no doubt.
Of a second-catches her voice and hesitates).
Talk they? No transient pique, no cloud that passes over :
[Sirides across the Chamber in vehement agitatio Something most luckless, most unhealable,
0! they force, they thrust me
DUCHESS (presses near to him, in entreaty).
0! if there yet be time, my husband! if WALLENSTEIN. Now she omitted it ?
By giving way and by submission, this
Can be averted—my dear Lord, give way! DUCHESS (wiping away her tears, after a pause). Win down your proud heart to it! Tell that heart, She did ernbrace me,
It is your sovereign Lord, your Emperor, But then first when I had already taken
Before whom you retreat. O let no longer My formal leave, and when the door already
Low tricking malice blacken your good meaning Had closed upon me, then did she come out
With venomous glosses. Stand you up In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,
Shielded and helm'd and weapond with the truth, And press'd me to her bosom, more with anguish
And drive before you into uttermost shame Than tenderness.
These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have weWALLENSTEIN (seizes her hand soothingly). You know it!—The swift growth of our good fortune
Nay, now collect yourself. It hath but set us up a mark for hatred.
Stand not before us?
Enter the Countess TERTSKY, leading in her hand the
Princess THEKLA, richly adorned with Brilliants.
COUNTESS, THEKLA, WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.
[Observing the countenance of the DUCHESS.
And business of no pleasing kind I see, And were it—were it, my dear Lord, in that
Ere he has gladden'd at his child. The first
This is thy daughter.
[THEKLA approaches with a shy and timid air, and
bends herself as about to kiss his hand. He receives WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).
her in his arms, and remains standing for some Lamormain! what said he ?
time lost in the feeling of her presence. That you're accused of having daringly O'erstepp'd the powers intrusted to you, charged
Yes! pure and lovely hath hope risen on me : With traitorous contempt of the Emperor
I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.
To raise up that great army for the Emperor :
Your daughter was already in the convent,
We in the field here gave our cares and toils No! 't was not so intended, that my business
[TERTSKY eniers, and delivers letters to the DUKE Within the peaceful silent convent walls
which he breaks open hurryingly. Has done her part, and out of her free grace
COUNTESS (10 Max.). Hath she bestow'd on the beloved child
Remunerate your trouble! For his joy The godlike; and now leads her thus adorn'd
He makes you recompense. "Tis not unfitting To meet her splendid fortune, and my hope.
For you, Count Piccolomini, to feel
So tenderly-my brother it beseems
Then I too must have scruples of his love;
For his munificent hands did ornament me
Ere yet the father's heart had spoken to me.
O yes, yes, mother!
And making happy.
[He grasps the hand of the Duchess will still in So long within me !
creasing warmth. WALLENSTEIN.
my heart pours out The voice of my
Its all of thanks to him! O! how I seem
[Then after a pause. To utter all things in the dear name Friedland. I was indignant at my destiny,
While I shall live, so long will I remain
The captive of this name : in it shall bloom
Inextricably as in some magic ring
In this name hath my destiny charm-bound me! I wrong'd my destiny. Here upon this head, COUNTESS (who during this time has been antiously So lovely in its maiden bloom, will I
watching the Duke, and remarks that he is lost in Let fall the garland of a life of war,
thought over the letters). Nor deem it lost, if only I can wreath it,
My brother wishes us to leave him. Come. Transmitted to a regal ornament,
WALLENSTEIN (lurns himself round quick, collects himAround these beauteous brows.
self, and speaks with cheerfulness to the DUCHESS). (He clasps her in his arms as PiccoLOMINI enter8. Once more I bid thee welcome to the camp.
Thou art the hostess of this court. You, Mar.,
While we perform the sovereign's business here.
[Max. PiccoloMINI offers the Duchess his arm; the
COUNTEss accompanies the PRINCESS.
TERTSKY (calling after him).
There comes the Paladin who protected us.
WALLENSTEIN, COUNT TERTSKY. The morning-star of my best joys!
WALLENSTEIN (in deep thought to himself).
She hath seen all things as they are—It is so,
They have determined finally in Vienna,
Have given me my successor already; I but the instrument. This day thou hast bound
It is the king of Hungary, Ferdinand, The father to thee, Max.! the fortunate father, The Emperor's delicate son! he's now their savior And this debt Friedland's self must pay.
He's the new star that's rising now! Of us
They think themselves already fairly rid,
My prince ! And as we were deceased, the heir already You made no common hurry to transfer it. Is entering on possession—Therefore--dispatch! I come with shame : yea, not without a pang!
(As he turns round he observes TERTSKY, and giver For scarce have I arrived here, scarce deliver'd
him a letter. The mother and the daughter to your arms,
Count Altringer will have himself excused,
And Galas to0—I like not this!
One following the other.
Is master of the Tyrol passes. I must forthwith Had you meant nothing further than to gull him Send some one to him, that he let not in
For the Emperor's service. The Spaniards on me frorn the Milanese.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause, during which he -Well, and the old Sesin, that ancient trader
looks narrowly on TERTSKY). In contraband negotiations, he
And from whence dost thou know Has shown himself again of late. What brings he That I'm not gulling him for the Emperor's service ? From the Count Thur?
Whence knowest thou that I'm not gulling all of you? TERTSKY.
Dost thou know me so well? When made I thee The Count communicates,
The intendant of my secret purposes ? He has found out the Swedish chancellor
I am not conscious that I ever open'd At Halberstadt, where the convention's held, My inmost thoughts to thee. The Emperor, it is true. Who says, you've tired him out, and that he'll have Hath dealt with me amiss; and if I would, No further dealings with you.
I could repay him with usurious interest
For the evil he hath done me. It delights me
To know my power; but whether I shall use it,
Of that, I should have thought that thou couldst TERTSKY. He says, you are never in earnest in your speeches;
So hast thou always play'd thy game with us.
[Enter Illo. WALLENSTEIN.
So then, doubtless, Yes, doubtless, this same modest Swede expects
SCENE XI. That I shall yield him some fair German tract
ILLO, WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY. For his prey and booty, that ourselves at last On our own soil and native territory, May be no longer our own lords and masters! How stand affairs without ? Are they prepared ? An excellent scheme! No, no! They must be off, Off, off? away! we want no such neighbors. You'll find them in the very mood you wish
They know about the Emperor's requisitions, Nay, yield them up that dot, that speck of land
And are tumultuous.
WALLENSTEIN. goes not from your portion. If you win The
How hath Isolan game, what matters it to you who pays it?
He's yours, both soul and body, Never shall it be said of me, I parcell'd
Since you built up again his Faro-bank.
And which way doth Kolatto bend ? Hast thou
Made sure of Tiefenbach and Deodate ?
What Piccolomini does, that they do too.
You mean, then, I may venture somewhat with them?
-If you are assured of the Piccolomini.
Not more assured of mine own self.
You will deal, however,
you shift ground and make so many curves. The fox!
Thou teachest me to know my man? There's Oxenstein, there's Arnheim--neither knows Sixteen campaigns I have made with that old warrior What he should think of your procrastinations, Besides, I have his horoscope : And in the end I prove the liar; all
We both are born beneath like stars-in short, Passes through me. I have not even your hand
[With an air of mystery writing.
To this belongs its own particular aspect,
If therefore thou canst warrant me the rest-
There is among them all but this one voice,
They mean to send a deputation to you.
Of each man with the whole. He who to-day
Will become sober, seeing but himself,
Will face about, and march on in the old
High road of duty, the old broad trodden road, ILLO.
And seek but to make shelter in good plight.
The time is not yet come.
So you say always
But when will it be time?
When I shall say it.
You'll wait upon the stars, and on their hours, A thought has struck me.
Till the earthly hour escapes you. O, believe me, Does not Count Tertsky give us a set banquet
In your own bosom are your destiny's stars.
Confidence in yourself, prompt resolution,
This is your Venus! and the soul malignant,
The only one that harmeth you, is Doubt.
ILLO (to WALLENSTEIN).
Thou speakest as thou understand'st. How oft Commission me to use my own discretion ?
And many a time I've told thee, Jupiter, I'll gain for you the Generals' words of honor,
That lustrous god, was setting at thy birth. Even as you wish.
Thy visual power subdues no mysteries;
Mole-eyed, thou mayest but burrow in the earth,
Blind as that subterrestrial, who with wan,
Lead-color'd shine lighted thee into life.
With serviceable cunning knit together
The nearest with the nearest; and therein
I trust thee and believe thee! but whate'er Give themselves up to you, without condition ;
Full of mysterious import Nature weaves Say, will you then—then will you show yourself
And fashions in the depths—the spirit's ladder, In earnest, and with some decisive action
That from this gross and visible world of dust Make trial of your luck?
Even to the starry world, with thousand rounds, WALLENSTEIN.
Builds itself up; on which the unseen powers The signatures! Move up and down on heavenly ministries Gain me the signatures.
The circles in the circles, that approach
The central sun with ever-narrowing orbitSeize, seize the hour, These see the glance alone, the unsealed eye, Ere it slips from you. Seldom comes the moment Of Jupiter's glad children born in lustre. In life, which is indeed sublime and weighty.
(He walks across the chamber, then returns, and To make a great decision possible,
standing still, proceeds. 0! many things, all transient and all rapid,
The heavenly constellations make not merely Must meet at once : and, haply, they thus met
The day and nights, summer and spring, not merely May by that confluence be enforced to pause
Signify to the husbandman the seasons Time long enough for wisdom, though too short,
Of sowing and of harvest. Human action, Far, far too short a time for doubt and scruple !
That is the seed too of contingencies, This is that moment. See, our army chieftains,
Strew'd on the dark land of futurity Our best, our noblest, are assembled around you,
In hopes to reconcile the powers of fate. Their king-like leader! On your nod they wait.
Whence it behoves us to seek out the seed-time, The single threads, which here your prosperous for- To watch the stars, select their proper hours,
And trace with searching eye the heavenly houses, Hath woven together in one potent web
Whether the enemy of growth and thriving Instinct with destiny, 0 let them not
Hide himself not, malignant, in his corner. Unravel of themselves. If you permit
Therefore permit me my own time. Meanwhile These chiefs to separate, so unanimous
Do you your part. As yet I cannot say Bring you them not a second time together.
What I shall doonly, give way I will not. Tis the high tide that heaves the stranded ship,
Depose me too they shall not. On these points And every individual's spirit waxes
You may rely.
My Lords, the Generals. Particular anxieties and interests
WALLENSTEIN. Scatters their spirit, and the sympathy
Let them come in.