THEKLA and MAX. PICCOLOMINI.
Don't trust them! They are false!
Impossible!
Trust no one here but me. I saw at once,
They had a purpose.
Purpose! but what purpose?
And how can we be instrumental to it?
I know no more than you; but yet believe me
There's some design in this; to make us happy,
To realize our union – trust me, love!
They but pretend to wish it.
But these Terzkys —
Why use we them at all? Why not your mother?
Excellent creature! She deserves from us
A full and filial confidence.
She doth love you,
Doth rate you high before all others – but —
But such a secret – she would never have
The courage to conceal it from my father.
For her own peace of mind we must preserve it
A secret from her too.
Why any secret?
I love not secrets. Mark what I will do.
I'll throw me at your father's feet – let him
Decide upon my fortune! He is true,
He wears no mask – he hates all crooked ways —
He is so good, so noble!
That are you!
You knew him only from this morn! But I
Have lived ten years already in his presence;
And who knows whether in this very moment
He is not merely waiting for us both
To own our loves in order to unite us?
You are silent!
You look at me with such a hopelessness!
What have you to object against your father?
I? Nothing. Only he's so occupied —
He has no leisure time to think about
The happiness of us two.
[Taking his hand tenderly.
Follow me
Let us not place too great a faith in men.
These Terzkys – we will still be grateful to them
For every kindness, but not trust them further
Than they deserve; – and in all else rely
On our own hearts!
O! shall we e'er be happy?
Are we not happy now? Art thou not mine?
Am I not thine? There lives within my soul
A lofty courage – 'tis love gives it me!
I ought to be less open – ought to hide
My heart more from thee – so decorum dictates:
But where in this place couldst thou seek for truth,
If in my mouth thou didst not find it?
We now have met, then let us hold each other
Clasped in a lasting and a firm embrace.
Believe me this was more than their intent.
Then be our loves like some blest relic kept
Within the deep recesses of the heart.
From heaven alone the love has been bestowed,
To heaven alone our gratitude is due;
It can work wonders for us still.
To them enters the COUNTESS TERZKY.
Come, come!
My husband sends me for you. It is now
The latest moment.
[They not appearing to attend to what she says,
she steps between them.
Part you!
Oh, not yet!
It has been scarce a moment.
Ay! Then time
Flies swiftly with your highness, princess niece!
There is no hurry, aunt.
Away! Away!
The folks begin to miss you. Twice already
His father has asked for him.
Ha! His father!
You understand that, niece!
Why needs he
To go at all to that society?
'Tis not his proper company. They may
Be worthy men, but he's too young for them;
In brief, he suits not such society.
You mean, you'd rather keep him wholly here?
THEKLA (with energy).
Yes! You have hit it aunt! That is my meaning,
Leave him here wholly! Tell the company —
What! have you lost your senses, niece?
Count, you remember the conditions. Come!
Lady, I must obey. Fairwell, dear lady!
[THEKLA turns away from him with a quick motion.
What say you then, dear lady?
Nothing. Go!
Can I when you are angry —
[He draws up to her, their eyes meet, she stands silent a moment, then throws herself into his arms; he presses her fast to his heart.
Off! Heavens! if any one should come!
Hark! What's that noise! It comes this way. Off!
[MAX. tears himself away out of her arms and goes. The COUNTESS accompanies him. THEKLA follows him with her eyes at first, walks restlessly across the room, then stops, and remains standing, lost in thought. A guitar lies on the table, she seizes it as by a sudden emotion, and after she has played awhile an irregular and melancholy symphony, she falls gradually into the music and sings.
The cloud doth gather, the greenwood roar,
The damsel paces along the shore;
The billows, they tumble with might, with might;
And she flings out her voice to the darksome night;
Her bosom is swelling with sorrow;
The world it is empty, the heart will die,
There's nothing to wish for beneath the sky
Thou Holy One, call thy child away!
I've lived and loved, and that was to-day;
Make ready my grave-clothes to-morrow.12
COUNTESS (returns), THEKLA.
Fie, lady niece! to throw yourself upon him
Like a poor gift to one who cares not for it,
And so must be flung after him! For you,
Duke Friedland's only child, I should have thought
It had been more beseeming to have shown yourself
More chary of your person.
And what mean you?
I mean, niece, that you should not have forgotten
Who you are, and who he is. But perchance
That never once occurred to you.
What then?
That you're the daughter of the Prince Duke Friedland.
Well, and what farther?
What? A pretty question!
He was born that which we have but become.
He's of an ancient Lombard family,
Son of a reigning princess.
Are you dreaming?
Talking in sleep? An excellent jest, forsooth!
We shall no doubt right courteously entreat him
To honor with his hand the richest heiress
In Europe.
That will not be necessary.
Methinks 'twere well, though, not to run the hazard.
His father loves him; Count Octavio
Will interpose no difficulty —
His!
His father! His! But yours, niece, what of yours?
Why, I begin to think you fear his father,
So anxiously you hide it from the man!
His father, his, I mean.
Niece, you are false.
Are you then wounded? O, be friends with me!
You hold your game for won already. Do not
Triumph too soon!
Nay now, be friends with me.
It is not yet so far gone.
I believe you.
Did you suppose your father had laid out
His most important life in toils of war,
Denied himself each quiet earthly bliss,
Had banished slumbers from his tent, devoted
His noble head to care, and for this only,
To make a happier pair of you? At length
To draw you from your convent, and conduct
In easy triumph to your arms the man
That chanced to please your eyes! All this, methinks,
He might have purchased at a cheaper rate.
That which he did not plant for me might yet
Bear me fair fruitage of its own accord.
And if my friendly and affectionate fate,
Out of his fearful and enormous being,
Will but prepare the joys of life for me —
Thou seest it with a lovelorn maiden's eyes,
Cast thine eye round, bethink thee who thou art; —
Into no house of joyance hast thou stepped,
For no espousals dost thou find the walls
Decked out, no guests the nuptial garland wearing;
Here is no splendor but of arms. Or thinkest thou
That all these thousands are here congregated
To lead up the long dances at thy wedding!
Thou see'st thy father's forehead full of thought,
Thy mother's eye in tears: upon the balance
Lies the great destiny of all our house.
Leave now the puny wish, the girlish feeling;
Oh, thrust it far behind thee! Give thou proof
Thou'rt the daughter of the mighty – his
Who where he moves creates the wonderful.
Not to herself the woman must belong,
Annexed and bound to alien destinies.
But she performs the best part, she the wisest,
Who can transmute the alien into self,
Meet and disarm necessity by choice;
And what must be, take freely to her heart,
And bear and foster it with mother's love.
Such ever was my lesson in the convent.
I had no loves, no wishes, knew myself
Only as his – his daughter – his, the mighty!
His fame, the echo of whose blast drove to me
From the far distance, weakened in my soul
No other thought than this – I am appointed
To offer myself up in passiveness to him.
That is thy fate. Mould thou thy wishes to it —
I and thy mother gave thee the example.
My fate hath shown me him, to whom behoves it
That I should offer up myself. In gladness
Him will I follow.
Not thy fate hath shown him!
Thy heart, say rather – 'twas thy heart, my child!
Faith hath no voice but the heart's impulses.
I am all his! His present – his alone.
Is this new life, which lives in me? He hath
A right to his own creature. What was I
Ere his fair love infused a soul into me?
Thou wouldst oppose thy father, then, should he
Have otherwise determined with thy person?
[THEKLA remains silent. The COUNTESS continues.
Thou meanest to force him to thy liking? Child,
His name is Friedland.
My name too is Friedland.
He shall have found a genuine daughter in me.
What! he has vanquished all impediment,
And in the wilful mood of his own daughter
Shall a new struggle rise for him? Child! child!
As yet thou hast seen thy father's smiles alone;
The eye of his rage thou hast not seen. Dear child,
I will not frighten thee. To that extreme,
I trust it ne'er shall come. His will is yet
Unknown to me; 'tis possible his aims
May have the same direction as thy wish.
But this can never, never be his will,
That thou, the daughter of his haughty fortunes,
Shouldest e'er demean thee as a lovesick maiden
And like some poor cost-nothing, fling thyself
Toward the man, who, if that high prize ever
Be destined to await him, yet with sacrifices
The highest love can bring, must pay for it.
[Exit COUNTESS.
I thank thee for the hint. It turns
My sad presentiment to certainty.
And it is so! Not one friend have we here,
Not one true heart! we've nothing but ourselves!
Oh, she said rightly – no auspicious signs
Beam on this covenant of our affections.
This is no theatre where hope abides
The dull thick noise of war alone stirs here,
And love himself, as he were armed in steel,
Steps forth, and girds him for the strife of death.
[Music from the banquet-room is heard.
There's a dark spirit walking in our house.
And swiftly will the destiny close on us.
It drove me hither from my calm asylum,
It mocks my soul with charming witchery,
It lures me forward in a seraph's shape,
I see it near, I see it nearer floating,
It draws, it pulls me with a godlike power —
And lo! the abyss – and thither am I moving —
I have no power within me not to move!
[The music from the banquet-room becomes louder.
Oh, when a house is, doomed in fire to perish,
Many and dark Heaven drives his clouds together,
Yea, shoots his lightnings down from sunny heights,
Flames burst from out the subterraneous chasms,
And fiends and angels, mingling in their fury,
Sling firebrands at the burning edifice.13
[Exit THEKLA.
A large saloon lighted up with festal splendor; in the midst of it, and in the centre of the stage a table richly set out, at which eight generals are sitting, among whom are OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, TERZKY, and MARADAS. Right and left of this, but further back, two other tables, at each of which six persons are placed. The middle door, which is standing open, gives to the prospect a fourth table with the same number of persons. More forward stands the sideboard.
The whole front of the stage is kept open, for the pages and servants-in-waiting. All is in motion. The band of music belonging to TERZKY's regiment march across the stage, and draw up around the tables. Before they are quite off from the front of the stage, MAX. PICCOLOMINI appears, TERZKY advances towards him with a paper, ISOLANI comes up to meet him with a beaker, or service-cup.
TERZKY, ISOLANI, MAX. PICCOLOMINI.
Here, brother, what we love! Why, where hast been?
Off to thy place – quick! Terzky here has given
The mother's holiday wine up to free booty.
Here it goes on as at the Heidelberg castle.
Already hast thou lost the best. They're giving
At yonder table ducal crowns in shares;
There Sternberg's lands and chattels are put up,
With Eggenberg's, Stawata's, Lichtenstein's,
And all the great Bohemian feudalities.
Be nimble, lad! and something may turn up
For thee, who knows? off – to thy place! quick! march!
Count Piccolomini!
Stop, ye shall have him in an instant. Read
This oath here, whether as 'tis here set forth,
The wording satisfies you. They've all read it,
Each in his turn, and each one will subscribe
His individual signature.
"Ingratis servire nefas."
That sounds to my ears very much like Latin,
And being interpreted, pray what may it mean?
No honest man will serve a thankless master.
"Inasmuch as our supreme commander, the illustrious Duke of Friedland, in consequence of the manifold affronts and grievances which he has received, had expressed his determination to quit the emperor, but on our unanimous entreaty has graciously consented to remain still with the army, and not to part from us without our approbation thereof, so we, collectively and each in particular, in the stead of an oath personally taken, do, hereby oblige ourselves – likewise by him honorably and faithfully to hold, and in nowise whatsoever from him to part, and to be ready to shed for his interests the last drop of our blood, so far, namely, as our oath to the emperor will permit it. (These last words are repeated by ISOLANI.) In testimony of which we subscribe our names."
Now! are you willing to subscribe to this paper?
Why should he not? All officers of honor
Can do it, ay, must do it. Pen and ink here!
Nay, let it rest till after meal.
Come, Max!
[Both seat themselves at their table.
TERZKY, NEUMANN.
Have you the copy with you, Neumann? Give it.
It may be changed for the other?
I have copied it
Letter by letter, line by line; no eye
Would e'er discover other difference,
Save only the omission of that clause,
According to your excellency's order.
Right I lay it yonder and away with this —
It has performed its business – to the fire with it.
[NEUMANN lays the copy on the table, and steps back again to the side-table.
ILLO (comes out from the second chamber), TERZKY.
How goes it with young Piccolomini!
All right, I think. He has started no object.
He is the only one I fear about —
He and his father. Have an eye on both!
How looks it at your table: you forget not
To keep them warm and stirring?
Oh, quite cordial,
They are quite cordial in the scheme. We have them
And 'tis as I predicted too. Already
It is the talk, not merely to maintain
The duke in station. "Since we're once for all
Together and unanimous, why not,"
Says Montecuculi, "ay, why not onward,
And make conditions with the emperor
There in his own Venice?" Trust me, count,
Were it not for these said Piccolomini,
We might have spared ourselves the cheat.
And Butler?
How goes it there? Hush!
To them enter BUTLER from a second table.
Don't disturb yourselves;
Field-marshal, I have understood you perfectly.
Good luck be to the scheme; and as to me,
[With an air of mystery.
You may depend upon me.
May we, Butler?
With or without the clause, all one to me!
You understand me! My fidelity
The duke may put to any proof – I'm with him
Tell him so! I'm the emperor's officer,
As long as 'tis his pleasure to remain
The emperor's general! and Friedland's servant,
As soon as it shall please him to become
His own lord.
You would make a good exchange.
No stern economist, no Ferdinand,
Is he to whom you plight your services.
I do not put up my fidelity
To sale, Count Terzky! Half a year ago
I would not have advised you to have made me
An overture to that, to which I now
Offer myself of my own free accord.
But that is past! and to the duke, field-marshal,
I bring myself, together with my regiment.
And mark you, 'tis my humor to believe,
The example which I give will not remain
Without an influence.
Who is ignorant,
That the whole army looks to Colonel Butler
As to a light that moves before them?
Ay?
Then I repent me not of that fidelity
Which for the length of forty years I held,
If in my sixtieth year my good old name
Can purchase for me a revenge so full.
Start not at what I say, sir generals!
My real motives – they concern not you.
And you yourselves, I trust, could not expect
That this your game had crooked my judgment – or
That fickleness, quick blood, or such like cause,
Has driven the old man from the track of honor,
Which he so long had trodden. Come, my friends!
I'm not thereto determined with less firmness,
Because I know and have looked steadily
At that on which I have determined.
Say,
And speak roundly, what are we to deem you?
A friend! I give you here my hand! I'm yours
With all I have. Not only men, but money
Will the duke want. Go, tell him, sirs!
I've earned and laid up somewhat in his service,
I lend it him; and is he my survivor,
It has been already long ago bequeathed to him;
He is my heir. For me, I stand alone
Here in the world; naught know I of the feeling
That binds the husband to a wife and children.
My name dies with me, my existence ends.
'Tis not your money that he needs – a heart
Like yours weighs tons of gold down, weighs down millions!
I came a simple soldier's boy from Ireland
To Prague – and with a master, whom I buried.
From lowest stable duty I climbed up,
Such was the fate of war, to this high rank,
The plaything of a whimsical good fortune.
And Wallenstein too is a child of luck:
I love a fortune that is like my own.
All powerful souls have kindred with each other.
This is an awful moment! to the brave,
To the determined, an auspicious moment.
The Prince of Weimar arms, upon the Maine,
To found a mighty dukedom. He of Halberstadt,
That Mansfeldt, wanted but a longer life
To have marked out with his good sword a lordship
That should reward his courage. Who of these
Equals our Friedland? There is nothing, nothing
So high, but he may set the ladder to it!
That's spoken like a man!
Do you secure the Spaniard and Italian —
I'll be your warrant for the Scotchman Lesly.
Come to the company!
Where is the master of the cellar? Ho!
Let the best wines come up. Ho! cheerly, boy!
Luck comes to-day, so give her hearty welcome.
[Exeunt, each to his table.