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The Duke's bed-chamber, without his alarming
butler. The attendants fill the right wing; he hates bustle, And lodges in the left wing quite alone.
And I too. "Tis too great a personage.
Squares with one's honor—if that be quite certain—
But LeR. Set your hearts quite at ease. Ye save for Ferdinand His Crown and Empire. The reward can be No small one.
DeWEREux. And 'tis his purpose to dethrone the Emperor? Butler. Yes!—Yes!—to rob him of his Crown and Life. DEVEREUx.
And he must fall by the executioner's hands,
Scene—A Gothicandgloomy Apartmentatthe Duchess FRIEDLAND's. Thekla on a seat, pale, her eyes closed. The Duchess and LADY NEUBRUNN busied about her. WALLENstEIN and the CountEss in conversation. wallenstein. How knew she it so soon? countess. She seems to have Foreboded some misfortune. The report Of an engagement, in the which had fallen A colonel of the Imperial army, frighten’d her. I saw it instantly. She flew to meet The Swedish courier, and with sudden questioning, Soon wrested from him the disastrous secret. Too late we miss'd her, hasten’d after her, We found her lying in his arms, all pale And in a swoon. WALLENSTEIN. A heavy, heavy blow ! And she so unprepared! Poor child! How is it? [Turning to the DUCHEss. is she coming to herself? Duchess. Her eyes are opening. count Ess.
I sank into his arms; and that has shamed me.
WALLENstriN. I see she is in the right, and am inclined To grant her this request of hers. Go, call him.
(LADY NEUBRUNN goes to call him).
DUChESS. But I, thy mother, will be present—
Leave her alone with him: for there are sorrows,
countess (detaining him). Where art thou going? I heard Tertsky say That 'tis thy purpose to depart from hence To-morrow early, but to leave us here.
Leave us not in this gloomy solitude
WALLENSTEIN. Who speaks of evil? I entreat you, sister, Use words of better omen.
O leave us not behind you in a place
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. [Erit. DUCHEss (to THEKLA, who starts and shirers). There—pale as death'—Child, 'tis impossible That thou shouldst speak with him. Follow thymother.
The K L.A. The Lady Neubrunn then may stay with me. [Ereunt Duchess and Countess.
SCENE IV. THEKLA, The Swedish CAPTAIN, LADY NEUBRUNN.
cArtAIN (respectfully approaching her). Princess—I must entreat your gentle pardon— My inconsiderate rash speech—How could I–
Thrkla (with dignity).
For my tongue spake a melancholy word.
ther, La. 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, 't will Renew your anguish. Thek L.A. I am firm. I will be firm. Well—how began the engagement?
captain. We, lay, expecting no attack, at Neustadt, Intrench'd 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 leapt the trenches; but their heedless courage Had borne them onward far before the others— The infantry were still at distance only. The Pappenheimers follow'd 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 Stretch'd out a solid ridge of pikes to meet them. They neither could advance, nor yet retreatAnd as they stood on every side wedged in, The Rhinegrave to their leader call'd 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 leapt first, the regiment all plunged after His charger, by a halbert gored, rear'd up, Flung him with violence off, and over him The horses, now no longer to be curb'd, [THERLA 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.
My dearest lady
captain. I retire. Thekla.
"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 spurn'd ; they fought like wounded tigers; their Frantic resistance roused our soldiery; A murderous fight took place, nor was the contest Finish'd 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 Follow'd the bier. A laurel deck'd 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 wish'd to die.
NEUBRUNN (to Thekla, who has hidden her countenance).
Look up, my dearest lady—
The R.I.A. Where is his grave? captain. At Neustadt, lady; in a cloister church Are his remains deposited, until We can receive directions from his father. The KLA. What is the cloister's name 7
cAPTAin. Saint Catherine's. Thek LA. And how far is it thither?
CAPTAIN. Near twelve leagues. THEKLA. And which the way ? CAPTAIN. You go by Tirschenreit And Falkenberg, through our advanced posts.
Thek LA. Who Is their commander 7 captain. Colonel Seckendorf.
[THERLA steps to the table, and takes a ring from a casket. Ther. La. 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!
NEUBRUNN. And we alone, two helpless feeble women? therla. We will take weapons: my arm shall protect thee. NEUBRUNN. In the dark night-time ! Thek L.A. 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! The KLA. They are human beings. Misery travels free Through the whole earth.
NEUBRUNN. The journey's weary length— Theroi, A. The pilgrim, travelling to a distant shrine Of hope and healing, doth not count the leagues.
NeubRunn. How can we pass the gates? THERLA. 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?
other L.A. My equerry procures them. Go and fetch him. neubrunn. Dares he, without the knowledge of his lord? Ther. L.A. He will. Go, only go. Delay no longer. neubrunn. Dear lady! and your mother? theik L.A. Oh! my mother! Neubrunn. So much as she has suffer'd too already; Your tender mother—Ah! how ill prepared For this last anguish! THEKL.A. Woe is me! my mother! [Pauses. Go instantly. neubrunn. But think what you are doing! THERLA. 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.
THERLA. To a deep quiet, such as he has sound, 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. O 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—O 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. [Erit LADY NEUBRUNN.
Thero L.A. His spirit 'tis that calls me: 'tis the troop Of his true followers, who offer'd 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. O! my only hope;— To die beneath the hoofs of trampling steeds— That is the lot of heroes upon earth! [Erit ThrkLA. (The curtain drops).
ACT V. SCENE i.
Scene—A Saloon, terminated by a Gallery which ertends far into the background.
WALLENstEIN (sitting at a table).
The Swedish CAPTAIN (standing before him). WALLENstein. Commend me to your lord. I sympathize In his good fortune; and if you have seen me Deficient in the expressions of that joy, Which such a victory might well demand, Attribute it to no lack of good-will, For henceforth are our fortunes one. Farewell, And for your trouble take my thanks. To-morrow The citadel shall be surrender'd to you On your arrival. [The Swedish CAPTAIN retires. WALLENstEIN sits lost in thought, his eyes fired vacantly, and his head sustained by his hand. The Countess TERtsky enters, stands before him awhile, unobserved by him ; at length he starts, sees her and recollects himself.
WALLENstein. Comest thou from her? Is she restored 7 How is she? COUNTESs. My sister tells me, she was more collected After her conversation with the Swede. She has now retired to rest. wal, Leinstein. The pang will soften She will shed tears. countess. I find thee alter'd too, My brother! After such a victory I had expected to have found in thee A cheerful spirit. O remain thou firm' Sustain, uphold us! For our light thou art, Our sun. WALLenstein. Be quiet. I ail nothing. Where's Thy husband 1
* The soliloquy of Thekla consists in the original of six-andtwenty lines, twenty of which are in rhymes of irregular recurrence. I thought it prudent to abridge it. Indeed the whole scene between Thekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps, have been omitted without injury to the play. 206
countess. At a banquet—he and Illo. walleNstEIN (rises and strides across the saloon). The night's far spent. Betake thee to thy chamber. countess. Bid me not go, O let me stay with thee! walleNstEIN (moves to the window). There is a busy motion in the Heaven, The wind doth chase the flag upon the tower, Fast sweep the clouds, the sickle" of the moon, Struggling, darts snatches of uncertain light. No form of star is visible! That one White stain of light, that single glimmering yonder, Is from Cassiopeia, and therein Is Jupiter. (A pause). But now The blackness of the troubled element hides him! [He sinks into profound melancholy, and looks vacantly into the distance. countess (looks on him mournfully, then grasps his hand). What art thou brooding on 1 wallen stri N. Methinks, If I but saw him, 't would be well with me. He is the star of my nativity, And often marvellously hath his aspect Shot strength into my heart. countess. Thou'lt see him again. walleNstEIN (remains for a while with absent mind, then assumes a livelier manner, and turns suddenly to the Countess). See him again? O never, never again! Countross. How 7 wal, i.enstein. He is gone—is dust.
The word “moon-sickle,” reminds me of a passage in Harris, as quoted by Johnson, under the word “falcated.” “The enlightened part of the moon appears in the form of a sickle or reaping-hook, which is while she is moving from the conjunction to the opposition, or from the new moon to the full: but from full to a new again, the enlightened part appears gibbous, and the dark fulcated.”
The words “wanken” and “schweben" are not easily translated. The English words, by which we attempt to render them, are either vulgar or pedantic. or not of sufficiently general application. So “der Wolken Zug”—The Draft, the Procession of clouds.-The Masses of the Clouds sweep onward
countess. Thou speakest Of Piccolomini. What was his death 7 The courier had just left thee as I came. [WALLENstein by a motion of his hand makes signs to her to be silent. Turn not thine eyes upon the backward view, Let us look forward into sunny days. Welcome with joyous heart the victory, Forget what it has cost thee. Not to-day, For the first time, thy friend was to thee dead; To thee he died, when first he parted from thee.
wallenstein. This anguish will be wearied down,” I know; What pang is permanent with man? From the highest As from the vilest thing of every day He learns to wean himself: for the strong hours Conquer him. Yet I feel what I have lost In him. The bloom is vanish'd from my life. For O! he stood beside me, like my youth, Transform'd for me the real to a dream, Clothing the palpable and the familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn. Whatever fortunes wait my future toils, The beautiful is vanish’d—and returns not.
count Ess. O be not treacherous to thy own power. Thy heart is rich enough to vivify Itself. Thou lovest and prizest virtues in him, The which thyself didst plant, thyself unfold.
wall ENstEIN (stepping to the door). Who interrupts us now at this late hour? It is the Governor. He brings the keys Of the Citadel. "Tis midnight. Leave me, sister! count ESS. O'tis so hard to me this night to leave thee— A boding fear possesses me! wallenstein. Fear? Wherefore ? | countess. Shouldst thou depart this night, and we at waking Never more find thee! WALLENstein. Fancies' COUNTESs. O my soul Haslong been weigh’d down by these dark forebodings. And if I combat and repel them waking, They still rush down upon my heart in dreams. I saw thee yester-night with thy first wise Sit at a banquet gorgeously attired. walleNstein. This was a dream of favorable omen, That marriage being the sounder of my fortunes.
countess. To-day I dreamt that I was seeking thee In thy own chamber. As I enter'd, lo! It was no more a chamber: the Chartreuse At Gitschin 'twas, which thou thyself hast founded,
* A very inadequate translation of the originnl. Verschmerzen werd' ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich, Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch:
LITERALLY. I shall grieve down this blow, of that I'm conscious:
in swift stream.
What does not man grieve down?