GORDON (rises). The Rhinegrave's still far off. Give but the orders, Is able to perform. And if indeed For that which thou hast done amiss,-this, this WALLENSTEIN (contemplates him with surprise, remains [Stepping to the window. All dark and silent-at the Castle too All is now hush'd-Light me, Chamberlain! [The GROOM OF THE CHAMBER, who had entered during the last dialogue, and had been stand ing at a distance and listening to it with Was it so late then, I should know that voice. BUTLER. What do you want here! when the Duke dismiss'd you! GORDON. vances in extreme agitation, and throws him- Your hand bound up and in a scarf? And thou too! But I know why thou dost wish BUTLER. "Tis wounded. That Illo fought as he were frantic, till Both dead? BUTLER. GORDON. Is he in bed? Ah, Butler! My servants? Well! to no one I employ GORDON. His heart still cleaves To earthly things: he's not prepared to step Into the presence of his God! BUTLER (going). God's merciful! SCENE VI. COUNTESS TERTSKY (with a light). Her bed-chamber is empty; she herself Is nowhere to be found! The Neubrunn too, Grant him but this night's respite. May ruin all. Burst the doors open. BUTLER. Home from the banquet!-Hark! I wonder whether Does the world hang. For God's sake! to the Duke. [Calling loudly. Butler! Butler! God! COUNTESS. Why, he is at the castle with my husband. GORDON. "Twas a mistake-"Tis not the Swedes-it is Too late. BUTLER. He comes [GORDON dashes himself against the wall. GORDON. O God of mercy! COUNTESS. What too late? Who will be here himself? Octavio In Egra? Treason! Treason!-Where's the Duke? [She rushes to the Gallery. SCENE VIII. (Servants run across the Stage full of terror. The whole Scene must be spoken entirely without pauses). SENI (from the Gallery). [They rush over the body into the gallery-two Thus to abuse the orders of thy Lord- Within the Duke lies murder'd-and your husband I've but fulfill'd the Emperor's own sentence. Assassinated at the Castle. [The COUNTESS stands motionless. FEMALE SERVANT (rushing across the stage). Help! Help! the Duchess! BURGOMASTER (enters). What mean these confused Loud cries, that wake the sleepers of this house? GORDON. Your house is cursed to all eternity. In your house doth the Duke lie murder'd! BURGOMASTER (rushing out). Fly! fly! they murder us all! Heaven forbid! FIRST SERVANT. SECOND SERVANT (carrying silver plate). That way! the lower Passages are block'd up. VOICE (from behind the Scene). Make room for the Lieutenant-General! O curse of kings, OCTAVIO. Infusing a dread life into their words, BUTLER. For what Rail you against me? What is my offence? I pull'd the string. You sow'd blood, and yet stand [At these words the COUNTESS starts from her stupor, Astonish'd that blood is come up. I always collects herself, and retires suddenly. VOICE (from behind the Scene). Keep back the people! Guard the door! SCENE IX. To these enters OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI with all his Train. At the same time DEVEREUX and MACDONALD enter from the Corridor with the Halberdiers. -WALLENSTEIN's dead body is carried over the back part of the Stage, wrapped in a piece of crimson tapestry. OCTAVIO (entering abruptly). It must not be! It is not possible! Butler! Gordon! I'll not believe it. Say, No! [GORDON, without answering, points with his hand to the Body of WALLENSTEIN as it is carried over the back of the Stage. OCTAVIO looks that way, and stands overpowered with horror. DEVEREUX (to BUTLER). Here is the golden fleece-the Duke's sword Is it your order MACDONALD. BUTLER (pointing to OCTAVIO). Here stands he who now Hath the sole power to issue orders. OCTAVIO (turning to BUTLER). To thee I lift my hand! I am not guilty Of this foul deed. The evil destiny surprised my brother OCTAVIO. Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment! The Empress honors your adversity, Takes part in your afflictions, opens to you COUNTESS (with her eye raised to heaven) He might sometime repose in death! O let him This sure may well be granted us—one sepulchre [He reads the address, and delivers the letter to OCTAVIO with a look of reproach, and with an emphasis on the word. To the Prince Piccolomini. [OCTAVIO, with his whole frame expressive of sud den anguish, raises his eyes to heaven. (The Curtain drops.) BARRERE. ACCEPT, as a small testimony of my grateful attach- Yours fraternally, friendly shelter, ere it bursts upon him. He scowl'd upon me with suspicious rage, JESUS COLLEGE, September 22, 1794. I cannot fear him—yet we must not scorn him. I mark'd him well. I met his eye's last glance; not Such agitation darken'd on his brow. TALLIEN. Twas all-distrusting guilt that kept from bursting LEGENDRE. Perfidious Traitor!-still afraid to bask TALLIEN. Yet much depends upon him-well you know LEGENDRE. O what a precious name is Liberty To scare or cheat the simple into slaves! O Danton! murder'd friend! assist my counsels- TALLIEN. Yet his keen eye that flashes mighty meanings LEGENDRE. Fear not or rather fear th' alternative, [Exeunt. Enter ROBESPIERRE, COUTHON, ST-JUST, and ROBESPIERRE JUNIOR. ROBESPIERRE. What! did La Fayette fall before my power? The stream runs clear, yet at the bottom lies The thick black sediment of all the factionsIt needs no magic hand to stir it up! COUTHON. O we did wrong to spare them-fatal error! ST-JUST. Rightly thou judgest, Couthon! He is one, ROBESPIERRE. Is not the commune ours? The stern tribunal? Dumas? and Vivier? Fleuriot? and Louvet? And Henriot? We'll denounce a hundred, nor Shall they behold to-morrow's sun roll westward. ROBESPIERRE JUNIOR. Nay-I am sick of blood; my aching heart Reviews the long, long train of hideous horrors That still have gloom'd the rise of the republic. I should have died before Toulon, when war Became the patriot! ROBESPIERRE. Most unworthy wish! He, whose heart sickens at the blood of traitors, Would be himself a traitor, were he not A coward! "Tis congenial souls alone Shed tears of sorrow for each other's fate. O thou art brave, my brother! and thine eye Full firmly shines amid the groaning battleYet in thine heart the woman-form of pity Asserts too large a share, an ill-timed guest! There is unsoundness in the state-To-morrow Shall see it cleansed by wholesome massacre! ROBESPIERRE JUNIOR. Beware! already do the sections murmur"O the great glorious patriot, RobespierreThe tyrant guardian of the country's freedom!" COUTHON. "Twere folly sure to work great deeds by halves! Much I suspect the darksome fickle heart Of cold Barrere ! ROBESPIERRE. I see the villain in him! ROBESPIERRE JUNIOR. If he-if all forsake thee-what remains? |