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

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

Where of necessity the soul must be

Its own support. A strong heart will rely

On its own strength alone. In her own bosom,

Not in her mother's arms, must she collect

The strength to rise superior to this blow.

It is mine own brave girl. I'll have her treated

Not as a woman, but the heroine. [Going.]

COUNTESS (detaining him).

Where art thou going? I heard Terzky say

That 'tis thy purpose to depart from hence

Tomorrow early, but to leave us here.

WALLENST.

Yes, ye stay here, placed under the protection

Of gallant men.

COUNTESS.

 
                   O take us with you, brother.
 

Leave us not in this gloomy solitude

To brood o'er anxious thoughts. The mists of doubt

Magnify evils to a shape of horror.

WALLENST.

Who speaks of evil? I entreat you, sister,

Use words of better omen.

COUNTESS.

 
               Then take us with you.
 

O leave us not behind you in a place

That forces us to such sad omens. Heavy

And sick within me is my heart—

These walls breathe on me, like a church-yard vault.

I cannot tell you, brother, how this place

Doth go against my nature. Take us with you.

Come, sister, join you your entreaty! Niece,

Yours too. We all entreat you, take us with you!

WALLENST.

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.

WALLENST.

Leave her alone with him.

DUCHESS (to THEKLA, who starts and shivers).

There—pale as death! Child, 'tis impossible

That thou shouldst speak with him. Follow thy mother.

THEKLA.

The Lady Neubrunn then may stay with me.

[Exeunt DUCHESS and COUNTESS.]

SCENE X

THEKLA, the SWEDISH CAPTAIN, LADY NEUBRUNN

CAPTAIN (respectfully approaching her).

Princess—I must entreat your gentle pardon—

My inconsiderate rash speech. How could I—

THEKLA (with dignity).

You have beheld me in my agony.

A most distressful accident occasion'd

You from a stranger to become at once

My confidant.

CAPTAIN.

I fear you hate my presence,

For my tongue spake a melancholy word.

THEKLA.

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, 'twill
 

Renew your anguish.

THEKLA.

 
                        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 toward 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 retreat;

And 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 curbed— [THEKLA, 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.]

NEUBR.

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 spurned; 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—

THEKLA.

Where is his grave?

CAPTAIN.

At Neustadt, lady; in a cloister church

Are his remains deposited, until

We can receive directions from his father.

THEKLA.

What is the cloister's name?

CAPTAIN.

Saint Catherine's.

THEKLA.

And how far is it thither?

CAPTAIN.

Near twelve leagues.

THEKLA.

And which the way?

CAPTAIN.

 
                 You go by Tirschenreut
 

And Falkenberg through our advanced posts.

THEKLA.

 
                           Who
 

Is their commander?

CAPTAIN.

Colonel Seckendorf. [THEKLA steps to the table, and takes a ring from a casket.]

THEKLA.

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!

CAPTAIN (confusedly).

Princess—

[THEKLA silently makes signs to him to go, and turns from him. The CAPTAIN lingers, and is about to speak. LADY NEUBRUNN repeats the signal, and he retires.]

SCENE XI

THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN

THEKLA (falls on LADY NEUBRUNN's neck).

Now, gentle Neubrunn, show me the affection

Which thou hast ever promised—prove thyself

My own true friend and faithful fellow-pilgrim.

This night we must away!

NEUBRUNN.

Away! and whither?

THEKLA.

Whither! There is but one place in the world.

Thither, where he lies buried! To his coffin!

NEUBR.

What would you do there?

THEKLA.

 
                          What do there?
 

That wouldst thou not have ask'd, hadst thou e'er loved.

There, there is all that still remains of him!

That single spot is the whole earth to me.

NEUBR.

That place of death—

THEKLA.

 
                    Is now the only place
 

Where life yet dwells for me: detain me not!

Come and make preparations; let us think

Of means to fly from hence.

NEUBRUNN.

Your father's rage—

THEKLA.

That time is past—

And now I fear no human being's rage.

NEUBR.

The sentence of the world! The tongue of calumny!

THEKLA.

Whom am I seeking? Him who is no more?

Am I then hastening to the arms—O God!

I haste but to the grave of the beloved.

NEUBR.

And we alone, two helpless feeble women?

THEKLA.

We will take weapons: my arm shall protect thee.

NEUBR.

In the dark night-time?

THEKLA.

Darkness will conceal us.

NEUBR.

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.

THEKLA.

They are human beings. Misery travels free

Through the whole earth.

NEUBRUNN.

The journey's weary length—

THEKLA.

The pilgrim, traveling to a distant shrine

Of hope and healing, doth not count the leagues.

NEUBR.

How can we pass the gates?

THEKLA.

 
                   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.

NEUBR.

And where procure we horses for our flight?

THEKLA.

My equerry procures them. Go and fetch him.

NEUBR.

Dares he, without the knowledge of his lord?

THEKLA.

He will. Go, only go. Delay no longer.

NEUBR.

Dear lady! and your mother?

THEKLA.

Oh! my mother!

NEUBR.

So much as she has suffer'd too already;

Your tender mother—Ah! how ill prepared

For this last anguish!

THEKLA.

Woe is me! my mother!

[Pauses.]

Go instantly.

NEUBRUNN.

But think what you are doing!

THEKLA.

What can be thought, already has been thought.

NEUBR.

And being there, what purpose you to do?

THEKLA.

There a Divinity will prompt my soul.

NEUBR.

Your heart, dear lady, is disquieted!

And this is not the way that leads to quiet.

THEKLA.

To a deep quiet, such as he has found.

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—Oh 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!

NEUBR.

You frighten me so, lady, that no longer

I dare stay here myself. I go and call

Rosenberg instantly. [Exit LADY NEUBRUNN.]

SCENE XII

THEKLA

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!

[Exit THEKLA.[33]]

[The Curtain drops.]

SCENE XIII

THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN, and ROSENBERG

NEUBR.

He is here lady, and he will procure them.

THEKLA.

Wilt thou provide us horses, Rosenberg?

ROSENB.

I will, my lady.

THEKLA.

And go with us as well?

ROSENB.

To the world's end, my lady.

THEKLA.

 
                            But consider,
 

Thou never canst return unto the Duke.

ROSENB.

I will remain with thee.

THEKLA.

 
                I will reward thee,
 

And will commend thee to another master,

Canst thou unseen conduct us from the castle?

ROSENB.

I can.

THEKLA.

When can I go?

ROSENBERG.

 
                    This very hour.
 

But wither would you, Lady?

THEKLA.

To—Tell him, Neubrunn.

NEUBR.

To Neustadt.

ROSENBERG.

So;—I leave you to get ready.

[Exit.]

NEUBR.

O see, your mother comes.

THEKLA.

Indeed! O Heav'n!

SCENE XIV

THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN, the DUCHESS

DUCHESS.

He's gone! I find thee more composed, my child.

THEKLA.

I am so, mother; let me only now

Retire to rest, and Neubrunn here be with me.

I want repose.

DUCHESS.

 
            My Thekla, thou shalt have it.
 

I leave thee now consoled, since I can calm

Thy father's heart.

THEKLA.

Good night, beloved mother! (Falling on her neck and embracing her with deep emotion).

DUCHESS.

Thou scarcely art composed e'en now, my daughter.

Thou tremblest strongly, and I feel thy heart

Beat audibly on mine.

THEKLA. Sleep will appease

Its beating: now good night, good night, dear mother.

(As she withdraws from her mother's arms the curtain falls).

ACT V

SCENE I

Butler's Chamber.

BUTLER and MAJOR GERALDIN

BUTLER.

Find me twelve strong dragoons, arm them with pikes,

For there must be no firing—

Conceal them somewhere near the banquet-room,

And soon as the dessert is served up, rush all in

And cry—"Who is loyal to the Emperor!"

I will overturn the table—while you attack

Illo and Terzky and dispatch them both.

The castle-palace is well barr'd and guarded,

That no intelligence of this proceeding

May make its way to the Duke. Go instantly;

Have you yet sent for Captain Devereux

And the Macdonald?—

GERALDIN.

They'll be here anon.

[Exit GERALDIN.]

BUTLER.

Here's no room for delay. The citizens

Declare for him, a dizzy drunken spirit

Possesses the whole town. They see in the Duke

A Prince of peace, a founder of new ages

And golden times. Arms too have been given out

By the town-council, and a hundred citizens

Have volunteered themselves to stand on guard.

Dispatch! then, be the word; for enemies

Threaten us from without and from within.

SCENE II

BUTLER, CAPTAIN DEVEREUX, and MACDONALD

MACDON.

Here we are, General.

DEVEREUX.

What's to be the watchword?

BUTLER.

Long live the Emperor!

BOTH (recoiling).

How?

BUTLER.

Live the House of Austria.

DEVEREUX.

Have we not sworn fidelity to Friedland?

MACDON.

Have we not march'd to this place to protect him?

BUTLER.

Protect a traitor, and his country's enemy?

DEVEREUX.

Why, yes! in his name you administer'd

Our oath.

MACDONALD.

And follow'd him yourself to Egra.

BUTLER.

I did it the more surely to destroy him.

DEVEREUX.

So then!

MACDONALD.

An alter'd case!

BUTLER (to DEVEREUX).

 
                      Thou wretched man,
 

So easily leavest thou thy oath and colors?

DEVEREUX.

The devil!—I but follow'd your example,

If you could prove a villain, why not we?

MACDON.

We've nought to do with thinking—that's your business.

You are our General, and give out the orders;

We follow you, though the track lead to hell.

BUTLER (appeased).

Good then! we know each other.

MACDONALD.

I should hope so.

DEVEREUX.

Soldiers of fortune are we—who bids most,

He has us.

MACDONALD.

'Tis e'en so!

BUTLER.

 
                         Well, for the present
 

Ye must remain honest and faithful soldiers.

DEVEREUX.

We wish no other.

BUTLER.

Ay, and make your fortunes.

MACRON.

That is still better.

 
                    Listen!
 

BOTH.

We attend.

BUTLER.

It is the Emperor's will and ordinance

To seize the person of the Prince-Duke Friedland,

Alive or dead.

DEVEREUX.

It runs so in the letter.

MACRON.

Alive or dead-these were the very words.

BUTLER.

And he shall be rewarded from the State

In land and gold, who proffers aid thereto.

DEVEREUX.

Ay! that sounds well. The words sound always well

That travel hither from the Court. Yes! yes!

We know already what Court-words import.

A golden chain perhaps in sign of favor,

Or an old charger, or a parchment patent,

And such like—The Prince-Duke pays better.

MACDONALD.

 
                                      Yes
 

The Duke's a splendid paymaster.

BUTLER.

 
                                All over
 

With that, my friends! His lucky stars are set.

MACDON.

And is that certain?

BUTLER.

You have my word for it.

DEVEREUX.

His lucky fortunes all past by?

BUTLER.

 
                      Forever
 

He is as poor as we.

MACDONALD.

As poor as we?

DEVEREUX.

Macdonald, we'll desert him.

BUTLER.

 
                    We'll desert him?
 

Full twenty thousand have done that already;

We must do more, my countrymen! In short—

We—we must kill him.

BOTH (starting back).

Kill him!

BUTLER.

 
            Yes, must kill him;
 

And for that purpose have I chosen you.

BOTH.

Us!

BUTLER.

You, Captain Devereux, and thee, Macdonald.

DEVEREUX (after a pause).

Choose you some other.

BUTLER.

 
                      What! art dastardly?
 

Thou, with full thirty lives to answer for—

Thou conscientious of a sudden?

DEVEREUX.

 
                             Nay
 

To assassinate our Lord and General—

MACDON.

To whom we've sworn a soldier's oath

BUTLER.

 
                              The oath
 

Is null, for Friedland is a traitor.

DEVEREUX.

No, no! it is too bad!

MACDONALD.

 
                   Yes, by my soul!
 

It is too bad. One has a conscience too—

DEVEREUX.

If it were not our Chieftain, who so long

Has issued the commands, and claim'd our duty—

BUTLER.

Is that the objection?

DEVEREUX.

 
                       Were it my own father,
 

And the Emperor's service should demand it of me,

It might be done perhaps—But we are soldiers,

And to assassinate our Chief Commander—

That is a sin, a foul abomination,

From which no monk or confessor absolves us.

BUTLER.

I am your Pope, and give you absolution.

Determine quickly!

DEVEREUX.

'Twill not do.

MACDONALD.

'Twont do!

BUTLER.

Well, off then! and—send Pestalutz to me.

DEVEREUX (hesitates).

The Pestalutz—

MACDONALD.

What may you want with him?

BUTLER.

If you reject it, we can find enough—

DEVEREUX.

Nay, if he must fall, we may earn the bounty

As well as any other. What think you,

Brother Macdonald?

MACDONALD.

 
                    Why, if he must fall,
 

And will fall, and it can't be otherwise,

One would not give place to this Pestalutz.

DEVEREUX (after some reflection).

When do you purpose he should fall?

BUTLER.

 
                     This night.
 

Tomorrow will the Swedes be at our gates.

DEVEREUX.

You take upon you all the consequences

BUTLER.

I take the whole upon me.

DEVEREUX.

 
                      And it is
 

The Emperor's will, his express absolute will?

For we have instances, that folks may like

The murder, and yet hang the murderer.

BUTLER.

The manifesto says—"alive or dead."

Alive—'tis not possible—you see it is not.

DEVEREUX.

Well, dead then! dead! But how can we come at him?

The town is filled with Terzky's soldiery.

MACDON.

Ay! and then Terzky still remains, and Illo—

BUTLER.

With these you shall begin—you understand me?

DEVEREUX.

How! And must they too perish?

BUTLER.

They the first.

MACDON.

Hear, Devereux! A bloody evening this.

DEVEREUX.

Have you a man for that? Commission me—

BUTLER.

'Tis given in trust to Major Geraldin;

This is a carnival night, and there's a feast

Given at the castle—there we shall surprise them,

And hew them down. The Pestalutz and Lesley

Have that commission. Soon as that is finish'd—

DEVEREUX.

Hear, General! It will be all one to you—

Hark ye, let me exchange with Geraldin.

BUTLER.

'Twill be the lesser danger with the Duke.

DEVEREUX.

Danger! The Devil! What do you think me, General?

'Tis the Duke's eye, and not his sword, I fear.

BUTLER.

What can his eye do to thee?

DEVEREUX.

 
                     Death and hell!
 

Thou know'st that I'm no milksop, General!

But 'tis not eight days since the Duke did send me

Twenty gold pieces for this good warm coat

Which I have on! and then for him to see me

Standing before him with the pike, his murderer,

That eye of his looking upon this coat—

Why—why—the devil fetch me! I'm no milksop!

BUTLER.

The Duke presented thee this good warm coat,

And thou, a needy wight, hast pangs of conscience

To run him through the body in return?

A coat that is far better and far warmer

Did the Emperor give to him, the Prince's mantle.

How doth he thank the Emperor? With revolt,

And treason.

DEVEREUX.

 
            That is true. The devil take
 

Such thinkers! I'll dispatch him.

BUTLER.

 
                   And would'st quiet
 

Thy conscience, thou hast nought to do but simply

Pull off the coat; so canst thou do the deed

With light heart and good spirits.

DEVEREUX.

 
                         You are right,
 

That did not strike me. I'll pull off the coat—

So there's an end of it.

MACDONALD.

 
                  Yes, but there's another
 

Point to be thought of.

BUTLER.

And what's that, Macdonald?

MACDON.

What avails sword or dagger against him?

He is not to be wounded—he is—

BUTLER (starting up).

What?

MACDON.

Safe against shot, and stab, and flesh! Hard frozen,

Secured and warranted by the black art!

His body is impenetrable, I tell you.

DEVEREUX.

In Ingolstadt there was just such another:

His whole skin was the same as steel; at last

We were obliged to beat him down with gun-stocks.

MACDON.

Hear what I'll do.

DEVEREUX.

Well.

MACDONALD.

 
                        In the cloister here
 

There's a Dominican, my countryman.

I'll make him dip my sword and pike for me

In holy water, and say over them

One of his strongest blessings. That's probatum!

Nothing can stand 'gainst that.

BUTLER.

 
                     So do, Macdonald!
 

But now go and select from out the regiment

Twenty or thirty able-bodied fellows,

And let them take the oaths to the Emperor.

Then when it strikes eleven, when the first rounds

Are pass'd, conduct them silently as may be

To the house—I will myself be not far off.

DEVEREUX.

But how do we get through Hartschier and Gordon,

That stand on guard there in the inner chamber?

BUTLER.

I have made myself acquainted with the place,

I lead you through a back door that's defended

By one man only. Me my rank and office

Give access to the Duke at every hour.

I'll go before you—with one poniard-stroke

Cut Hartschier's windpipe, and make way for you.

DEVEREUX.

And when we are there, by what means shall we gain

The Duke's bed-chamber, without his alarming

The servants of the Court? For he has here

A numerous company of followers.

BUTLER.

The attendants fill the right wing: he hates bustle,

And lodges in the left wing quite alone.

DEVEREUX.

Were it well over—hey, Macdonald? I

Feel queerly on the occasion, devil knows!

MACDON.

And I too. 'Tis too great a personage.

People will hold us for a brace of villains.

BUTLER.

In plenty, honor, splendor—you may safely

Laugh at the people's babble.

DEVEREUX.

 
                        If the business
 

Squares with one's honor—if that be quite certain—

BUTLER.

Set your hearts quite at ease. Ye save for Ferdinand

His crown and empire. The reward can be

No small one.

DEVEREUX.

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,

Should we deliver him up to the Emperor

Alive?

BUTLER.

It were his certain destiny.

DEVEREUX.

Well! Well! Come then, Macdonald, he shall not

Lie long in pain.

[Exeunt BUTLER through one door, MACDONALD and DEVEREUX through the other.]