The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 03

This evening, as we journey'd hitherward;

'Twas on our left hand. Did you hear it here?

GORDON.

Distinctly. The wind brought it from the south.

BUTLER.

It seem'd to came from Weiden or from Neustadt.

WALLENST.

'Tis likely. That's the route the Swedes are taking.

How strong is the garrison?

GORDON.

                           Not quite two hundred

Competent men, the rest are invalids.

WALLENST.

Good! And how many in the vale of Jochim?

GORDON.

Two hundred harquebusiers have I sent thither

To fortify the posts against the Swedes.

WALLENST.

Good! I commend your foresight. At the works too

You have done somewhat?

GORDON.

                 Two additional batteries

I caused to be run up. They were needless.

The Rhinegrave presses hard upon us, General!

WALLENST.

You have been watchful in your Emperor's service.

I am content with you, Lieutenant-Colonel.

[To BUTLER.]

Release the outposts in the vale of Jochim

With all the stations in the enemy's route.

[To GORDON.]

Governor, in your faithful hands I leave

My wife, my daughter, and my sister. I

Shall make no stay here, and wait but the arrival

Of letters to take leave of you, together

With all the regiments.

SCENE IV

To these enter COUNT TERZKY

TERZKY.

Joy, General; joy! I bring you welcome tidings.

WALLENST.

And what may they be?

TERZKY.

             There has been an engagement

At Neustadt; the Swedes gain'd the victory.

WALLENST.

From whence did you receive the intelligence?

TERZKY.

A countryman from Tirschenreut convey'd it.

Soon after sunrise did the fight begin!

A troop of the Imperialists from Tachau

Had forced their way into the Swedish camp;

The cannonade continued full two hours;

There were left dead upon the field a thousand

Imperialists, together with their Colonel;

Further than this he did not know.

WALLENSTEIN.

                        How came

Imperial troops at Neustadt? Altringer,

But yesterday, stood sixty miles from there.

Count Gallas' force collects at Frauenberg,

And have not the full complement. Is it possible

That Suys perchance had ventured so far onward?

It cannot be.

TERZKY.

          We shall soon know the whole,

For here comes Illo, full of haste, and joyous.

SCENE V

To these enter ILLO

ILLO (to WALLENSTEIN).

A courier, Duke! he wishes to speak with thee.

TERZKY (eagerly).

Does he bring confirmation of the victory?

WALLENSTEIN (at the same time).

What does he bring? Whence comes he?

ILLO.

                  From the Rhinegrave

And what he brings I can announce to you

Beforehand. Seven leagues distant are the Swedes;

At Neustadt did Max Piccolomini

Throw himself on them with the cavalry;

A murderous fight took place! o'erpower'd by numbers

The Pappenheimers all, with Max their leader,

[WALLENSTEIN shudders and turns pale.]

Were left dead on the field.

WALLENSTEIN (after a pause, in a low voice).

Where is the messenger? Conduct me to him.

[WALLENSTEIN is going, when LADY NEUBRUNN rushes into the room. Some servants follow her and run across the stage.]

NEUBR.

Help! Help!

ILLO and TERZKY (at the same time).

What now?

NEUBRUNN.

The Princess!

WALTENSTEIN and TERZKY.

Does she know it?

NEUBRUNN (at the same time with them).

She is dying!

[Hurries off the stage, when WALLENSTEIN and TERZKY follow her.]

SCENE VI

BUTLER and GORDON

GORDON.

What's this?

BUTLER.

               She has lost the man she loved—

Young Piccolomini who fell in the battle.

GORDON.

Unfortunate Lady!

BUTLER.

                    You have heard what Illo

Reporteth, that the Swedes are conquerors,

And marching hitherward.

GORDON.

Too well I heard it.

BUTLER.

They are twelve regiments strong, and there are five

Close by us to protect the Duke. We have

Only my single regiment; and the garrison

Is not two hundred strong.

GORDON.

'Tis even so.

BUTLER.

It is not possible with such small force

To hold in custody a man like him.

GORDON.

I grant it.

BUTLER.

Soon the numbers would disarm us,

And liberate him.

GORDON.

It were to be fear 'd.

BUTLER (after a pause).

Know, I am warranty for the event;

With my head have I pledged myself for his,

Must make my word good, cost it what it will,

And if alive we cannot hold him prisoner,

Why—death makes all things certain!

GORDON.

                         Butler! What?

Do I understand you? Gracious God! You could—

BUTLER.

He must not live.

GORDON.

And you can do the deed!

BUTLER.

Either you or I. This morning was his last.

GORDON.

You would assassinate him!

BUTLER.

'Tis my purpose.

GORDON.

Who leans with his whole confidence upon you!

BUTLER.

Such is his evil destiny!

GORDON.

                       Your General!

The sacred person of your General!

BUTLER.

My General he has been.

GORDON.

                     That 'tis only

A "has been" washes out no villiany.

And without judgment pass'd?

BUTLER.

                        The execution

Is here instead of judgment.

GORDON.

This were murder,

Not justice. The most guilty should be heard.

BUTLER.

His guilt is clear, the Emperor has pass'd judgment,

And we but execute his will.

GORDON.

                     We should not

Hurry to realize a bloody sentence;

A word may be recall'd, a life can never be.

BUTLER.

Dispatch in service pleases sovereigns.

GORDON.

No honest man's ambitious to press forward

To the hangman's service.

BUTLER.

                    And no brave man loses

His color at a daring enterprise.

GORDON.

A brave man hazards life, but not his conscience.

BUTLER.

What then? Shall he go forth anew to kindle

The unextinguishable flame of war?

GORDON.

Seize him, and hold him prisoner—do not kill him.

BUTLER.

Had not the Emperor's army been defeated,

I might have done so.—But 'tis now past by.

GORDON.

O, wherefore open'd I the stronghold to him?

BUTLER.

His destiny and not the place destroys him.

GORDON.

Upon these ramparts, as beseem'd a soldier,

I had fallen, defending the Emperor's citadel!

BUTLER.

Yes, and a thousand gallant men have perish'd.

GORDON.

Doing their duty—that adorns the man!

But murder's a black deed, and nature curses it.

BUTLER (brings out a paper).

Here is the manifesto which commands us

To gain possession of his person. See—

It is addressed to you as well as me.

Are you content to take the consequences,

If through our fault he escape to the enemy?

GORDON.

I?—Gracious God!

BUTLER.

               Take it on yourself

Come of it what may; on you I lay it.

GORDON.

O God in heaven!

BUTLER.

                Can you advise aught else

Wherewith to execute the Emperor's purpose?

Say if you can. For I desire his fall,

Not his destruction.

GORDON.

                 Merciful heaven! what must be

I see as clear as you. Yet still the heart

Within my bosom beats with other feelings!

BUTLER.

Mine is of harder stuff! Necessity

In her rough school hath steel'd me. And this Illo,

And Terzky likewise, they must not survive him.

GORDON.

I feel no pang for these. Their own bad hearts

Impell'd them, not the influence of the stars.

'Twas they who strew'd the seeds of evil passions

In his calm breast, and with officious villiany

Water'd and nursed the pois'nous plants. May they

Receive their earnests to the uttermost mite!

BUTLER.

And their death shall precede his!

We meant to have taken them alive this evening

Amid the merry-making of a feast,

And keep them prisoners in the citadel.

But this makes shorter work. I go this instant

To give the necessary orders.

SCENE VII

To these enter ILLO and TERZKY

TERZKY.

Our luck is on the turn. Tomorrow come

The Swedes—twelve thousand gallant warriors, Illo,

Then straightwise for Vienna. Cheerily, friend!

What! meet such news with such a moody face?

ILLO.

It lies with us at present to prescribe

Laws, and take vengeance on those worthless traitors,

Those skulking cowards that deserted us;

One has already done his bitter penance,

The Piccolomini: be his the fate

Of all who wish us evil! This flies sure

To the old man's heart; he has his whole life long

Fretted and toil'd to raise his ancient house

From a Count's title to the name of prince;

And now must seek a grave for his only son.

BUTLER.

'Twas pity, though! A youth of such heroic

And gentle temperament! The Duke himself,

'Twas easily seen, how near it went to his heart.

ILLO.

Hark ye, old friend! That is the very point

That never pleased me in our General—

He ever gave the preference to the Italians.

Yea, at this very moment, by my soul!

He'd gladly see us all dead ten times over,

Could he thereby recall his friend to life.

TERZKY.

Hush, hush! Let the dead rest! This evening's business

Is, who can fairly drink the other down—

Your regiment, Illo! gives the entertainment.

Come! we will keep a merry carnival—

The night for once be day, and 'mid full glasses

Will we expect the Swedish avant-garde.

ILLO.

Yes, let us be of good cheer for today,

For there's hot work before us, friends! This sword

Shall have no rest, till it be bathed to the hilt

In Austrian blood.

GORDON.

               Shame, shame! what talk is this

My Lord Field-Marshal? Wherefore foam you so

Against your Emperor?

BUTLER.

                Hope not too much

From this first victory. Bethink you, sirs!

How rapidly the wheel of Fortune turns;

The Emperor still is formidably strong.

ILLO.

The Emperor has soldiers, no commander,

For this King Ferdinand of Hungary

Is but a tyro. Gallas? He's no luck,

And was of old the ruiner of armies.

And then this viper, this Octavio,

Is excellent at stabbing in the back,

But ne'er meets Friedland in the open field.

TERZKY.

Trust me, my friends, it cannot but succeed;

Fortune, we know, can ne'er forsake the Duke!

And only under Wallenstein can Austria

Be conqueror.

ILLO.

                  The Duke will soon assemble

A mighty army: all comes crowding, streaming

To banners, dedicate by destiny

To fame and prosperous fortune. I behold

Old times come back again! he will become

Once more the mighty Lord which he has been.

How will the fools, who've now deserted him,

Look then? I can't but laugh to think of them,

For lands will he present to all his friends,

And like a King and Emperor reward

True services; but we've the nearest claims.

[To GORDON.]

You will not be forgotten, Governor!

He'll take you from this nest, and bid you shine

In higher station: your fidelity

Well merits it.

GORDON.

           I am content already

And wish to climb no higher; where great height is,

The fall must needs be great. "Great height, great depth."

ILLO.

Here you have no more business, for tomorrow

The Swedes will take possession of the citadel.

Come, Terzky, it is supper-time. What think you?

Nay, shall we have the town illuminated

In honor of the Swede? And who refuses

To do it is a Spaniard and a traitor.

TERZKY.

Nay! nay! not that, it will not please the Duke—

ILLO.

What! we are masters here; no soul shall dare

Avow himself Imperial where we've the rule.

Gordon! good night, and for the last time, take

A fair leave of the place. Send out patroles

To make secure, the watch-word may be alter'd

At the stroke of ten; deliver in the keys

To the Duke himself, and then you've quit for ever

Your wardship of the gates, for on tomorrow

The Swedes will take possession of the citadel.

TERZKY (as he is going, to BUTLER).

You come, though, to the castle?

BUTLER.

At the right time.

[Exeunt TERZKY and ILLO.]

SCENE VIII

GORDON and BUTLER

GORDON (looking after them).

Unhappy men! How free from all foreboding!

They rush into the outspread net of murder

In the blind drunkenness of victory;

I have no pity for their fate. This Illo,

This overflowing and foolhardy villain,

That would fain bathe himself in his Emperor's blood.—

BUTLER.

Do as he order'd you. Send round patroles,

Take measures for the citadel's security;

When they are within I close the castle-gate

That nothing may transpire.

GORDON (with earnest anxiety).

              Oh! haste not so!

Nay, stop; first tell me—

BUTLER.

                You have heard already,

Tomorrow to the Swedes belongs. This night

Alone is ours. They make good expedition,

But we will make still greater. Fare you well.

GORDON.

Ah! your looks tell me nothing good. Nay, Butler,

I pray you, promise me!

BUTLER.

                           The sun has set;

A fateful evening doth descend upon us,

And brings on their long night! Their evil stars

Deliver them unarm'd into our hands,

And from their drunken dream of golden fortunes

The dagger at their heart shall rouse them. Well,

The Duke was ever a great calculator;

His fellow-men were figures on his chess-board,

To move and station, as his game required.

Other men's honor, dignity, good name,

Did he shift like pawns, and make no conscience of;

Still calculating, calculating still;

And yet at last his calculation proves

Erroneous; the whole game is lost; and lo!

His own life will be found among the forfeits.

GORDON.

O think not of his errors now! remember

His greatness, his munificence; think on all

The lovely features of his character,

On all the noble exploits of his life,

And let them, like an angel's arm, unseen,

Arrest the lifted sword.

BUTLER.

                      It is too late.

I suffer not myself to feel compassion;

Dark thoughts and bloody are my duty now:

[Grasping GORDON's hand.]

Gordon! 'tis not my hatred (I pretend not

To love the Duke, and have no cause to love him),

Yet 'tis not now my hatred that impels me

To be his murderer. 'Tis his evil fate.

Hostile concurrences of many events

Control and subjugate me to the office.

In vain the human being meditates

Free action. He is but the wire-work'd[31] puppet

Of the blind Power, which out of its own choice

Creates for him a dread necessity.

What too would it avail him, if there were

A something pleading for him in my heart—

Still I must kill him.

GORDON.

                   If your heart speak to you,

Follow its impulse. 'Tis the voice of God.

Think you your fortunes will grow prosperous

Bedew'd with blood—his blood? Believe it not!

BUTLER.

You know not. Ask not! Wherefore should it happen

That the Swedes gain'd the victory, and hasten

With such forced marches hitherward? Fain would I

Have given him to the Emperor's mercy. Gordon!

I do not wish his blood—But I must ransom

The honor of my word—it lies in pledge—

And he must die, or—

[Passionately grasping GORDON's hand.]

                       Listen then, and know,

I am dishonor'd if the Duke escape us.

GORDON.

O! to save such a man—

BUTLER.

What!

GORDON.

         It is worth

A sacrifice. Come, friend! Be noble-minded!

Our own heart, and not other men's opinions,

Forms our true honor.

BUTLER (with a cold and haughty air).

                      He is a great Lord,

This Duke—and I am but of mean importance.

This is what you would say! Wherein concerns it

The world at large, you mean to hint to me,

Whether the man of low extraction keeps

Or blemishes his honor—

So that the man of princely rank be saved?

We all do stamp our value on ourselves:

The price we challenge for ourselves is given us.

There does not live on earth the man so station'd

That I despise myself, compared with him.

Man is made great or little by his own will;

Because I am true to mine, therefore he dies.

GORDON.

I am endeavoring to move a rock.

Thou hadst a mother, yet no human feelings.

I cannot hinder you, but may some God

Rescue him from you!

[Exit GORDON.]

BUTLER[32] (alone).

I treasured my good name all my life long;

The Duke has cheated me of life's best jewel,

So that I blush before this poor weak Gordon!

He prizes above all his fealty;

His conscious soul accuses him of nothing;

In opposition to his own soft heart

He subjugates himself to an iron duty.

Me in a weaker moment passion warp'd;

I stand beside him, and must feel myself

The worse man of the two. What, though the world

Is ignorant of my purposed treason, yet

One man does know it, and can prove it too—

High-minded Piccolomini!

There lives the man who can dishonor me!

This ignominy blood alone can cleanse!

Duke Friedland, thou or I—Into my own hands

Fortune delivers me—The dearest thing a man has is himself.

SCENE IX

A Gothic and gloomy Apartment at the 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.

WALLENST.

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 missed 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.

COUNTESS.

She lives!

THEKLA (looking around her).

Where am I?

WALLENSTEIN (steps to her, raising her up in his arms).

Come, cheer'ly, Thekla! be my own brave girl!

See, there's thy loving mother. Thou art in

Thy father's arms.

THEKLA (standing up).

Where is he? Is he gone?

DUCHESS.

Who gone, my daughter?

THEKLA.

                He—the man who utter'd

That word of misery.

DUCHESS.

                     O! think not of it,

My Thekla!

WALLENSTEIN.

Give her sorrow leave to talk!

Let her complain—mingle your tears with hers,

For she hath suffer'd a deep anguish; but

She'll rise superior to it, for my Thekla

Hath all her father's unsubdued heart.

THEKLA.

I am not ill. See, I have power to stand.

Why does my mother weep? Have I alarm'd her?

It is gone by—I recollect myself—

[She casts her eyes round the room, as seeking some one.]

Where is he? Please you, do not hide him from me.

You see I have strength enough: now I will hear him.

DUCHESS.

No; never shall this messenger of evil

Enter again into thy presence, Thekla!

THEKLA.

My father—

WALLENSTEIN.

Dearest daughter!

THEKLA.

                            I'm not weak—

Shortly I shall be quite myself again.

You'll grant me one request?

WALLENSTEIN.

Name it, my daughter.

THEKLA.

Permit the stranger to be called to me,

And grant me leave that by myself I may

Hear his report and question him.

DUCHESS.

No, never!

COUNTESS.

'Tis not advisable—assent not to it.

WALLENST.

Hush! Wherefore wouldst thou speak with him, my daughter?

THEKLA.

Knowing the whole, I shall be more collected;

I will not be deceived. My mother wishes

Only to spare me. I will not be spared—

The worst is said already: I can hear

Nothing of deeper anguish!

COUNTESS and DUCHESS.

Do it not.

THEKLA.

The horror overpower'd me by surprise.

My heart betray'd me in the stranger's presence:

He was a witness of my weakness, yea,

I sank into his arms; and that has shamed me.

I must replace myself in his esteem,

And I must speak with him, perforce, that he,

The stranger, may not think ungently of me.

WALLENST.

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—

THEKLA.

                         'Twere

More pleasing to me, if alone I saw him;

Trust me, I shall behave myself the more

Collectedly.

WALLENSTEIN.

                Permit her own will.

Leave her alone with him: for there are sorrows