The Piccolomini (play) Read online

  duke's chair. They are announced from without, and the wings of

  the door fly open.

  SCENE II.

  WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  You went, then, through Vienna, were presented

  To the Queen of Hungary?

  DUCHESS.

  Yes; and to the empress, too,

  And by both majesties were we admitted

  To kiss the hand.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  And how was it received,

  That I had sent for wife and daughter hither

  To the camp, in winter-time?

  DUCHESS.

  I did even that

  Which you commissioned me to do. I told them

  You had determined on our daughter's marriage,

  And wished, ere yet you went into the field,

  To show the elected husband his betrothed.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  And did they guess the choice which I had made?

  DUCHESS.

  They only hoped and wished it may have fallen

  Upon no foreign nor yet Lutheran noble.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  And you-what do you wish, Elizabeth?

  DUCHESS.

  Your will, you know, was always mine.

  WALLENSTEIN (after a pause).

  Well, then,-

  And in all else, of what kind and complexion

  Was your reception at the court?

  [The DUCHESS casts her eyes on the ground, and remains silent.

  Hide nothing from me. How were you received?

  DUCHESS.

  O! my dear lord, all is not what it was.

  A canker-worm, my lord, a canker-worm

  Has stolen into the bud.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Ay! is it so?

  What, they were lax? they failed of the old respect?

  DUCHESS.

  Not of respect. No honors were omitted,

  No outward courtesy; but in the place

  Of condescending, confidential kindness,

  Familiar and endearing, there were given me

  Only these honors and that solemn courtesy.

  Ah! and the tenderness which was put on,

  It was the guise of pity, not of favor.

  No! Albrecht's wife, Duke Albrecht's princely wife,

  Count Harrach's noble daughter, should not so-

  Not wholly so should she have been received.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Yes, yes; they have taken offence. My latest conduct

  They railed at it, no doubt.

  DUCHESS.

  O that they had!

  I have been long accustomed to defend you,

  To heal and pacify distempered spirits.

  No; no one railed at you. They wrapped them up,

  O Heaven! in such oppressive, solemn silence!

  Here is no every-day misunderstanding,

  No transient pique, no cloud that passes over;

  Something most luckless, most unhealable,

  Has taken place. The Queen of Hungary

  Used formerly to call me her dear aunt,

  And ever at departure to embrace me--

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Now she omitted it?

  DUCHESS (wiping away her tears after a pause).

  She did embrace me,

  But then first when I had already taken

  My formal leave, and when the door already

  Had closed upon me, then did she come out

  In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,

  And pressed me to her bosom, more with anguish

  Than tenderness.

  WALLENSTEIN (seizes her hand soothingly).

  Nay, now collect yourself.

  And what of Eggenberg and Lichtenstein,

  And of our other friends there?

  DUCHESS (shaking her head).

  I saw none.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  The ambassador from Spain, who once was wont

  To plead so warmly for me?

  DUCHESS.

  Silent, silent!

  WALLENSTEIN.

  These suns then are eclipsed for us. Henceforward

  Must we roll on, our own fire, our own light.

  DUCHESS.

  And were it-were it, my dear lord, in that

  Which moved about the court in buzz and whisper,

  But in the country let itself be heard

  Aloud-in that which Father Lanormain

  In sundry hints and--

  WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).

  Lanormain! what said he?

  DUCHESS.

  That you're accused of having daringly

  O'erstepped the powers intrusted to you, charged

  With traitorous contempt of the emperor

  And his supreme behests. The proud Bavarian,

  He and the Spaniards stand up your accusers-

  That there's a storm collecting over you

  Of far more fearful menace than the former one

  Which whirled you headlong down at Regensburg.

  And people talk, said he, of--Ah!

  [Stifling extreme emotion.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Proceed!

  DUCHESS.

  I cannot utter it!

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Proceed!

  DUCHESS.

  They talk--

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Well!

  DUCHESS.

  Of a second--

  (catches her voice and hesitates.)

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Second--

  DUCHESS.

  Most disgraceful

  Dismission.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Talk they?

  [Strides across the chamber in vehement agitation.

  Oh! they force, they thrust me

  With violence, against my own will, onward!

  DUCHESS (presses near him in entreaty).

  Oh! if there yet be time, my husband, if

  By giving way and by submission, this

  Can be averted-my dear Lord, give way!

  Win down your proud heart to it! Tell the heart,

  It is your sovereign lord, your emperor,

  Before whom you retreat. Oh! no longer

  Low trickling malice blacken your good meaning

  With abhorred venomous glosses. Stand you up

  Shielded and helmed and weaponed with the truth,

  And drive before you into uttermost shame

  These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have we-

  You know it! The swift growth of our good fortune

  It hath but set us up a mark for hatred.

  What are we, if the sovereign's grace and favor

  Stand not before us!

  SCENE III.

  Enter the Countess TERZKY, leading in her hand the Princess THEKLA,

  richly adorned with brilliants.

  COUNTESS, TEKLA, WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.

  COUNTESS.

  How sister? What, already upon business?

  [Observing the countenance of the DUCHESS.

  And business of no pleasing kind I see,

  Ere he has gladdened at his child. The first

  Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!

  This is thy daughter.

  [THEKLA approaches with a shy and timid air, and bends herself as

  about to kiss his hand. He receives her in his arms, and remains

  standing for some time lost in the feeling of her presence.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Yes! pure and lovely hath hope risen on me,

  I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.

  DUCHESS.

  'Twas but a little child when you departed

  To raise up that great army for the emperor

  And after, at the close of the campaign,

  When you returned home out of Pomerania,

  Your daughter was already in the convent,

  Wherein she has remained
till now.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  The while

  We in the field here gave our cares and toils

  To make her great, and fight her a free way

  To the loftiest earthly good; lo! mother Nature

  Within the peaceful, silent convent walls,

  Has done her part, and out of her free grace

  Hath she bestowed on the beloved child

  The god-like; and now leads her thus adorned

  To meet her splendid fortune, and my hope.

  DUCHESS (to THEKLA).

  Thou wouldst not now have recognized thy father,

  Wouldst thou, my child? She counted scarce eight years

  When last she saw your face.

  THEKLA.

  O yes, yes, mother!

  At the first glance! My father has not altered.

  The form that stands before me falsifies

  No feature of the image that hath lived

  So long within me!

  WALLENSTEIN.

  The voice of my child!

  [Then after a pause.

  I was indignant at my destiny,

  That it denied me a man-child, to be

  Heir of my name and of my prosperous fortune,

  And re-illume my soon-extinguished being

  In a proud line of princes.

  I wronged my destiny. Here upon this head,

  So lovely in its maiden bloom, will I

  Let fall the garland of a life of war,

  Nor deem it lost, if only I can wreath it,

  Transmuted to a regal ornament,

  Around these beauteous brows.

  [He clasps her in his arms as PICCOLOMINI enters.

  SCENE IV.

  Enter MAX. PICCOLOMINI, and some time after COUNT TERZKY, the

  others remaining as before.

  COUNTESS.

  There comes the Paladin who protected us.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Max.! Welcome, ever welcome! Always wert thou

  The morning star of my best joys!

  MAX.

  My general--

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Till now it was the emperor who rewarded thee,

  I but the instrument. This day thou hast bound

  The father to thee, Max.! the fortunate father,

  And this debt Friedland's self must pay.

  MAX.

  My prince!

  You made no common hurry to transfer it.

  I come with shame: yea, not without a pang!

  For scarce have I arrived here, scarce delivered

  The mother and the daughter to your arms,

  But there is brought to me from your equerry [6]

  A splendid richly-plated hunting dress

  So to remunerate me for my troubles-

  Yes, yes, remunerate me,-since a trouble

  It must be, a mere office, not a favor

  Which I leaped forward to receive, and which

  I came with grateful heart to thank you for.

  No! 'twas not so intended, that my business

  Should be my highest best good fortune!

  [TERZKY enters; and delivers letters to the DUKE, which he

  breaks open hurriedly.

  COUNTESS (to MAX.).

  Remunerate your trouble! For his joy,

  He makes you recompense. 'Tis not unfitting

  For you, Count Piccolomini, to feel

  So tenderly-my brother it beseems

  To show himself forever great and princely.

  THEKLA.

  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.

  MAX

  Yes; 'tis his nature ever to be giving

  And making happy.

  [He grasps the hand of the DUCHESS with still increasing warmth.

  How my heart pours out

  Its all of thanks to him! O! how I seem

  To utter all things in the dear name-Friedland.

  While I shall live, so long will I remain

  The captive of this name: in it shall bloom

  My every fortune, every lovely hope.

  Inextricably as in some magic ring

  In this name hath my destiny charm-bound me!

  COUNTESS (who during this time has been anxiously watching the DUKE,

  and remarks that he is lost in thought over the letters).

  My brother wishes us to leave him. Come.

  WALLENSTEIN (turns himself round quick, collects himself, and speaks

  with cheerfulness to the DUCHESS).

  Once more I bid thee welcome to the camp,

  Thou art the hostess of this court. You, Max.,

  Will now again administer your old office,

  While we perform the sovereign's business here.

  [MAX. PICCOLOMINI offers the DUCHESS his arm; the COUNTESS

  accompanies the PRINCESS.

  TERZKY (calling after him).

  Max., we depend on seeing you at the meeting.

  SCENE V.

  WALLENSTEIN, COUNT TERZKY.

  WALLENSTEIN (in deep thought, to himself).

  She has seen all things as they are-it is so,

  And squares completely with my other notices,

  They have determined finally in Vienna,

  Have given me my successor already;

  It is the King of Hungary, Ferdinand,

  The emperor's delicate son! he's now their savior,

  He's the new star that's rising now! Of us

  They think themselves already fairly rid,

  And as we were deceased, the heir already

  Is entering on possession-Therefore-despatch!

  [As he turns round he observes TERZKY, and gives him a letter.

  Count Altringer will have himself excused,

  And Gallas too-I like not this!

  TERZKY.

  And if

  Thou loiterest longer, all will fall away,

  One following the other.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Altringer

  Is master of the Tyrol passes. I must forthwith

  Send some one to him, that he let not in

  The Spaniards on me from the Milanese.

  -Well, and the old Sesin, that ancient trader

  In contraband negotiations, he

  Has shown himself again of late. What brings he

  From the Count Thur?

  TERZKY.

  The count communicates

  He has found out the Swedish chancellor

  At Halberstadt, where the convention's held,

  Who says, you've tired him out, and that he'll have

  No further dealings with you.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  And why so?

  TERZKY.

  He says, you are never in earnest in your speeches;

  That you decoy the Swedes-to make fools of them;

  Will league yourself with Saxony against them,

  And at last make yourself a riddance of them

  With a paltry sum of money.

  WALLENSTEIN.

  So then, doubtless,

  Yes, doubtless, this same modest Swede expects

  That I shall yield him some fair German tract

  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!

  An excellent scheme! No, no! They must be off,

  Off, off! away! we want no such neighbors.

  TERZKY.

  Nay, yield them up that dot, that speck of land-

  It goes not from your portion. If you win

  The game, what matters it to you who pays it?

  WALLENSTEIN.

  Off with them, off! Thou understand'st not this.

  Never shall it be said of me, I parcelled

  My native land away, dismembered Germany,

  Betrayed it to a foreigner, in order
>
  To come with stealthy tread, and filch away

  My own share of the plunder-Never! never!

  No foreign power shall strike root in the empire,

  And least of all these Goths! these hungry wolves!

  Who send such envious, hot, and greedy glances

  Toward the rich blessings of our German lands!

  I'll have their aid to cast and draw my nets,

  But not a single fish of all the draught

  Shall they come in for.

  TERZKY.

  You will deal, however,

  More fairly with the Saxons? they lose patience

  While you shift round and make so many curves.

  Say, to what purpose all these masks? Your friends

  Are plunged in doubts, baffled, and led astray in you.

  There's Oxenstiern, there's Arnheim-neither knows

  What he should think of your procrastinations,