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

SCENE II

BUTLER and GORDON

GORDON.

 
                              Is it you?
 

How my heart sinks! The Duke a fugitive traitor!

His princely head attainted! O my God!

[Tell me, General, I implore thee, tell me

In full, of all these sad events at Pilsen.]

BUTLER.

You have received the letter which I sent you

By a post-courier?

GORDON.

 
             Yes: and in obedience to it
 

Open'd the stronghold to him without scruple,

For an imperial letter orders me

To follow your commands implicitly.

But yet forgive me! when even now I saw

The Duke himself my scruples recommenced;

For truly, not like an attainted man,

Into this town did Friedland make his entrance;

His wonted majesty beam'd from his brow,

And calm, as in the days when all was right,

Did he receive from me the accounts of office.

'Tis said that fallen pride learns condescension;

But sparing and with dignity the Duke

Weigh'd every syllable of approbation,

As masters praise a servant who has done

His duty and no more.

BUTLER.

 
                      'Tis all precisely
 

As I related in my letter. Friedland

Has sold the army to the enemy,

And pledged himself to give up Prague and Egra.

On this report the regiments all forsook him,

The five excepted that belong to Terzky,

And which have follow'd him, as thou hast seen

The sentence of attainder is pass'd on him,

And every loyal subject is required

To give him in to justice, dead or living.

GORDON.

A traitor to the Emperor! Such a noble!

Of such high talents! What is human greatness!

I often said, this can't end happily.

His might, his greatness, and his obscure power

Are but a cover'd pit-fall. The human being

May not be trusted to self-government.

The clear and written law, the deep trod foot-marks

Of ancient custom, are all necessary

To keep him in the road of faith and duty.

The authority intrusted to this man

Was unexampled and unnatural,

It placed him on a level with his Emperor,

Till the proud soul unlearn'd submission. Woe is me!

I mourn for him! for where he fell, I deem

Might none stand firm. Alas! dear General,

We in our lucky mediocrity

Have ne'er experienced, cannot calculate,

What dangerous wishes such a height may breed

In the heart of such a man.

BUTLER.

 
                  Spare your laments
 

Till he need sympathy; for at this present

He is still mighty, and still formidable.

The Swedes advance to Egra by forced marches,

And quickly will the junction be accomplish'd.

This must not be! The Duke must never leave

This stronghold on free footing; for I have

Pledged life and honor here to hold him prisoner,

And your assistance 'tis on which I calculate.

GORDON.

O that I had not lived to see this day!

From his hand I received this dignity;

He did himself intrust this stronghold to me,

Which I am now required to make his dungeon.

We subalterns have no will of our own:

The free, the mighty man alone may listen

To the fair impulse of his human nature.

Ah! we are but the poor tools of the law,

Obedience the sole virtue we dare aim at!

BUTLER.

Nay! let it not afflict you, that your power

Is circumscribed. Much liberty, much error!

The narrow path of duty is securest.

GORDON.

And all then have deserted him you say?

He has built up the luck of many thousands;

For kingly was his spirit: his full hand

Was ever open! Many a one from dust

[With a sly glance on BUTLER.]

Hath he selected, from the very dust

Hath raised him into dignity and honor,

And yet no friend, not one friend hath he purchased,

Whose heart beats true to him in the evil hour.

BUTLER.

Here's one, I see.

GORDON.

 
                 I have enjoy'd from him
 

No grace or favor. I could almost doubt

If ever in his greatness he once thought on

An old friend of his youth. For still my office

Kept me at a distance from him; and when first

He to this citadel appointed me,

He was sincere and serious in his duty.

I do not then abuse his confidence,

If I preserve my fealty in that

Which to my fealty was first delivered.

BUTLER.

Say, then, will you fulfil th' attainder on him,

[And lend your aid to take him in arrest?]

GORDON (pauses, reflecting—then as in deep dejection).

If it be so—if all be as you say—

If he've betray'd the Emperor, his master,

Have sold the troops, have purposed to deliver

The strongholds of the country to the enemy—

Yea, truly!—there is no redemption for him

Yet it is hard that me the lot should destine

To be the instrument of his perdition;

For we were pages at the court of Bergau

At the same period; but I was the senior.

BUTLER.

I have heard so—

GORDON.

'Tis full thirty years since then,

A youth who scarce had seen his twentieth year

Was Wallenstein, when he and I were friends.

Yet even then he had a daring soul:

His frame of mind was serious and severe

Beyond his years: his dreams were of great objects,

He walk'd amidst us of a silent spirit,

Communing with himself; yet I have known him

Transported on a sudden into utterance

Of strange conceptions; kindling into splendor,

His soul reveal'd itself, and he spake so

That we look'd round perplex 'd upon each other,

Not knowing whether it were craziness,

Or whether it were a god that spoke in him.

BUTLER.

But was it where he fell two-story-high

From a window-ledge, on which he had fallen asleep

And rose up free from injury? From this day

(It is reported) he betrayed clear marks

Of a distemper'd fancy.

GORDON.

 
                              He became
 

Doubtless more self-enwrapt and melancholy;

He made himself a Catholic.[30] Marvelously

His marvelous preservation had transform'd him.

Thenceforth he held himself for an exempted

And privileged being, and, as if he were

Incapable of dizziness or fall,

He ran along the unsteady rope of life.

But now our destinies drove us asunder,

He paced with rapid step the way of greatness,

Was Count, and Prince, Duke-regent, and Dictator—

And now is all, all this too little for him;

He stretches forth his hands for a king's crown,

And plunges in unfathomable ruin.

BUTLER.

No more, he comes.

SCENE III

To these enter WALLENSTEIN, in conversation with the BURGOMASTER of Egra.

WALLENST.

You were at one time a free town. I see,

Ye bear the half eagle in your city arms.

Why the half eagle only?

BURGOMASTER.

 
                      We were free,
 

But for these last two hundred years has Egra

Remain'd in pledge to the Bohemian crown;

Therefore we bear the half eagle, the other half

Being cancell'd till the empire ransom us,

If ever that should be.

WALLENSTEIN.

 
                     Ye merit freedom.
 

Only be firm and dauntless. Lend your ears

To no designing whispering court-minions.

What may your imposts be?

BURGOMASTER.

 
                       So heavy that
 

We totter under them. The garrison

Lives at our costs.

WALLENSTEIN.

I will relieve you. Tell me,

There are some Protestants among you still

[The BURGOMASTER hesitates.]

Yes, yes; I know it. Many lie conceal'd

Within these walls—confess now—you your self—

 
     [Fixes his eye on him. The BURGOMASTER
 

alarmed.]

Be not alarm'd. I hate the Jesuits.

Could my will have determined it, they had

Been long ago expell'd the empire. Trust me—

Mass-book or bible, 'tis all one to me.

Of that the world has had sufficient proof.

I built a church for the Reform'd in Glogau

At my own instance. Harkye, Burgomaster!

What is your name?

BURGOMASTER.

Pachhalbel, may it please you.

WALLENST.

Harkye!—

But let it go no further, what I now

Disclose to you in confidence.

[Laying his hand on the BURGOMASTER'S shoulder with a certain solemnity.]

 
                               The times
 

Draw near to their fulfilment, Burgomaster!

The high will fall, the low will be exalted.

Harkye! But keep it to yourself! The end

Approaches of the Spanish double monarchy—

A new arrangement is at hand. You saw

The three moons that appear'd at once in the Heaven.

BURGOM.

With wonder and affright!

WALLENSTEIN.

 
                             Whereof did two
 

Strangely transform themselves to bloody daggers,

And only one, the middle moon, remained

Steady and clear.

BURGOMASTER.

We applied it to the Turks.

WALLENST.

The Turks! That all?—I tell you, that two empires

Will set in blood, in the East and in the West,

And Luth'ranism alone remain.

[Observing GORDON and BUTLER.]

 
                              I' faith,
 

'Twas a smart cannonading that we heard

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.