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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11692-0.txt b/11692-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..36f9cea --- /dev/null +++ b/11692-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,25679 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11692 *** + + VOLUME III + + * * * * * + + FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER + + + + + + THE GERMAN CLASSICS + + Masterpieces of German Literature + + TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH + + + + + IN TWENTY VOLUMES + + ILLUSTRATED + + + + + + THE GERMAN PUBLICATION SOCIETY + NEW YORK + + + + 1914 + + + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME III + + +Life of Schiller. By Calvin Thomas + + +POEMS[1] + + To the Ideal + The Veiled Image at Saïs + The Ideal and The Actual Life + Genius + Votive Tablets (Selections) + The Maiden from Afar + The Glove + The Diver + The Cranes of Ibycus + Thee Words of Belief + The Words of Error + The Lay of the Bell + The German Art + Commencement of the New Century + Cassandra + Rudolph of Hapsburg + + +DRAMAS + + Introduction to Wallenstein's Death. By William H. Carruth + + The Death of Wallenstein. Translated by S. T. Coleridge + + Introduction to William Tell. By William H. Carruth + + William Tell. Translated by Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B. + + Homage of the Arts. Translated by A. I. du P. Coleman + + +HISTORY AND LITERATURE + + The Thirty Years' War--Last Campaigns of Gustavus Adolphus. Translated + by Rev. A. J. W. Morrison + + On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy. Translated by A. Lodge + + Schiller's Correspondence with Goethe. Translated by L. Dora Schmitz + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS--VOLUME III + + Milton and His Daughters. By Michael von Munkacsy + + Schiller. By C. Jäger + + Schiller's Father and Mother + + Schiller's House in Weimar and Birthplace in Marbach + + Monument to Schiller in Berlin. By Reinhold Begas + + Military Academy in Stuttgart and the Theatre in Mannheim, 1782 + + Church in which Schiller was married + + Schiller at the Court of Weimar + + The Knight scorns Cunigonde. By Eugen Klimsch + + The Diver. By Carl Gehrts + + The Lay of the Bell. By Julius Benezur + + Cassandra. By Ferdinand Keller + + The Count gives up his Horse to the Priest. By Alexander Wagner + + Wallenstein and Seni + + Wallenstein and Terzky + + Wallenstein hears of Octavio's Treason + + Wallenstein warned by his Friends + + The Death of Wallenstein. By Karl von Piloty + + Stauffacher and his Wife Gertrude + + The Oath on the Rütli + + Tell takes Leave of his Family + + Tell and Gessler + + The Death of Attinghausen. By Wilhelm von Kaulbach + + The Homage of the Arts. By Hermann Wislicenus + + Gustavus Adolphus + + Wallenstein. By Van Dyck + + Monument to Goethe and Schiller in Weimar. By Ernst Rietschel + + Goethe on Schiller. From the _Ford Collection_, New York Public Library + + Schiller on Goethe. From the _Ford Collection_, New York Public Library + + Schiller Reciting from his Works to his Weimar Friends. By Theobald + von Oer + + The Goethe and Schiller Archives in Weimar + + Facsimile of Leaf from the Album of Schiller's Letters to Charlotte + von Lengefeld + + + + +THE LIFE OF SCHILLER + + +BY CALVIN THOMAS, LL.D. + +Professor of Germanic Languages and Literatures, Columbia University + + + He kept the faith. The ardent poet-soul, + Once thrilled to madness by the fiery gleam + Of Freedom glimpsed afar in youthful dream, + Henceforth was true as needle to the pole. + The vision he had caught remained the goal + Of manhood's aspiration and the theme + Of those high luminous musings that redeem + Our souls from bondage to the general dole + Of trivial existence. Calm and free + He faced the Sphinx, nor ever knew dismay, + Nor bowed to externalities the knee, + Nor took a guerdon from the fleeting day; + But dwelt on earth in that eternity + Where Truth and Beauty shine with blended ray.[2] + +Friedrich Schiller, the greatest of German dramatic poets, was born +November 10, 1759, at Marbach in Swabia. His father was an officer in +the army which the Duke of Württemberg sent out to fight the Prussians +in the Seven Years' War. Of his mother, whose maiden name was Dorothea +Kodweis, not much is known. She was a devout woman who lived in the +cares and duties of a household that sometimes felt the pinch of +poverty. After the war the family lived a while at the village of +Lorch, where Captain Schiller was employed as recruiting officer. From +there they moved, in 1766, to Ludwigsburg, where the extravagant duke +Karl Eugen had taken up his residence and was bent on creating a sort +of Swabian Versailles. Here little Fritz went to school and was +sometimes taken to the gorgeous ducal opera, where he got his first +notions of scenic illusion. The hope of his boyhood was to become a +preacher, but this pious aspiration was brought to naught by the offer +of free tuition in an academy which the duke had started at his Castle +Solitude near Stuttgart. + +This academy was Schiller's world from his fourteenth to his +twenty-first year. It was an educational experiment conceived in a +rather liberal spirit as a training-school for public service. At +first the duke had the boys taught under his own eye at Castle +Solitude, where they were subjected to a strict military discipline. +There being no provision for the study of divinity, Schiller was put +into law, with the result that he floundered badly for two years. In +1775 the institution was augmented by a faculty of medicine and +transferred to Stuttgart, where it was destined to a short-lived +career under the name of the Karlschule. Schiller gladly availed +himself of the permission to change from law to medicine, which he +thought would be more in harmony with his temperament and literary +ambitions. And so it proved. As a student of medicine he made himself +at home in the doctrines and practices of the day, and for several +years after he left school he thought now and then of returning to the +profession of medicine. + +For posterity the salient fact of his long connection with the +Karlschule is that he was there converted into a fiery radical and a +banner-bearer of the literary revolution. Just how it came about is +hard to explain in detail. The school was designed to produce docile +and contented members of the social order; in him it bred up a savage +and relentless critic of that order. The result may be ascribed +partly, no doubt, to the natural reaction of an ardent, liberty-loving +temperament against a system of rigid discipline and petty espionage. +The _élèves_--French was the official language of the school--were not +supposed to read dangerous books, and their rooms were often searched +for contraband literature. But they easily found ways to evade the +rule and enjoy the savor of forbidden fruit. + +[Illustration: FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER] + +So it was with Schiller: he read Rousseau more or less, the early +works of Goethe, Lessing's _Emilia Galotti_, and plays by Klinger, +Leisewitz, Lenz and Wagner--all more or less revolutionary in spirit. +He also made the acquaintance of Shakespeare and steeped himself in +the spirit of antique heroism as he found it in Plutarch. + +Perhaps this reading would have made a radical of him even if he had +just then been enjoying the normal freedom of a German university +student. Be that as it may, the time came--it was about 1777--when the +young Schiller, faithfully pursuing his medical course and doing loyal +birthday orations in praise of the duke or the duke's mistress, was +not exactly what he seemed to be. Underneath the calm exterior there +was a soul on fire with revolutionary passion. + +It was mainly in 1780--his last year in the Karlschule--that Schiller +wrote _The Robbers_, altogether the loudest explosion of the Storm and +Stress. The hero, Karl Moor, was conceived as a "sublime criminal." +Deceived by the machinations of his villainous brother Franz, he +becomes the captain of a band of outlaws and attempts by murder, arson +and robbery to right the wrongs of the social order. For a while he +believes that he is doing a noble work. When he learns how he has been +deluded he gives himself up to the law. The effect of the play is that +of tremendous power unchecked by any of the restraints of art. The +plot is incredible, the language tense with turbulent passion, and the +characters are extravagantly overdrawn. But the genius of the born +dramatist is there. It is all vividly seen and powerfully bodied +forth. What is more important, the play marks the birth of a new +type--the tragedy of fanaticism. We are left at the end with a +heightened feeling for the mysterious tangle of human destiny which +makes it possible for a really noble nature such as Karl Moor to go +thus disastrously wrong. + +Toward the end of 1780 Schiller left the academy and was made doctor +to a regiment of soldiers consisting largely of invalids. He dosed +them with drastic medicines according to his light, but the service +was disagreeable and the pay very small. To make a stir in the world +he borrowed money and published _The Robbers_ as a book for the +reader, with a preface in which he spoke rather slightingly of the +theatre. The book came out in the spring of 1781--with a rampant lion +and the motto _in Tirannos_ on the title-page. Ere long it came to the +attention of Dalberg, director of the theatre at Mannheim, who saw +its dramatic qualities and requested its author to revise it for the +stage. This Schiller readily consented to do. To please Dalberg he set +the action back from the eighteenth to the sixteenth century and made +many minor changes. The revised play was performed at Mannheim on +January 12, 1782, with ever-memorable success. The audience, assembled +from far and near, went wild with enthusiasm. No such triumph had been +achieved before on a German stage. The author himself saw the +performance, having come over from Stuttgart without leave of absence. +For this breach of discipline, or rather for a repetition of the +offense in May, he was sent to the guardhouse for a fortnight and +forbidden to write any more plays. The consequence was a clandestine +flight from a situation that had become intolerable. In September, +1782, he escaped from Stuttgart with his loyal friend Streicher and +took his way northward toward the Palatinate. He had set his hopes on +finding employment in Mannheim. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER'S FATHER AND MOTHER] + +Before leaving his native Swabia he had virtually completed a second +play dealing with the conspiracy of Count Fiesco at Genoa in the year +1547. He had also won his spurs as a poet and a critic. His _Anthology +for 1782_ contains a large number of short poems, some of them +evincing a rare talent for dramatic story-telling, others +foreshadowing the imaginative sweep and the warmth of feeling which +characterize the best poetic work of the later Schiller. Such, +notably, are the poems to Laura, in which the lover's raptures are +linked with the law of gravitation and the preestablished harmony of +the world. He also contributed several papers to the Württemberg +_Repertorium_, especially a review of _The Robbers_ in which, +dissecting his own child with remorseless impartiality, he anticipated +nearly everything that critics were destined to urge against the play +during the next hundred years. Having left his post of duty and +being a military officer, Schiller was technically a deserter and had +reason to fear pursuit and arrest. At Mannheim his affairs went badly. +The politic Dalberg was not eager to befriend a youth who had offended +the powerful Duke of Württemberg; so _Fiesco_ was rejected and its +author came into dire straits. Toward the close of the year he found a +welcome refuge at Bauerbach, where a house was put at his disposal by +his friend Frau von Wolzogen. Here he remained several months, +occupied mainly with a new play which came to be known as _Cabal and +Love_. He also sketched a historical tragedy, _Don Carlos_, being led +to the subject by his reading of St. Réal's historical novel _Don +Carlos_. During the first part of his stay at Bauerbach Schiller went +by the name of Dr. Ritter and wrote purposely misleading letters as to +his intended movements. By the summer of 1783, however, it had become +apparent that the Duke of Württemberg was not going to make trouble. +Relieved of anxiety on this score, and not having had very good +success of late with his theatre, Dalberg reopened negotiations with +Schiller, who was easily persuaded to emerge from his hiding-place and +become theatre-poet at Mannheim under contract for one year. + +During this year at Mannheim _Fiesco_ and _Cabal and Love_ were put on +the stage and published. The former is a quasi-historical tragedy of +intriguing ambition, ending--in the original version--with the death +of Fiesco at the hands of the fanatical republican Verrina. While +there is much to admire in its abounding vigor and its picturesque +details, _Fiesco_ lacks artistic finality and is the least interesting +of Schiller's early plays. Much more important is _Cabal and Love_, a +domestic tragedy that has held the stage to this day and is generally +regarded as the best of its kind in the eighteenth-century German +drama. Class conflict is the tragic element. A maid of low degree and +her high-minded, aristocratic lover are done to death by a miserable +court intrigue. Far more than in _The Robbers_ Schiller was here +writing with his eye on the facts. Much Württemberg history is thinly +disguised in this drastic comment on the crimes, follies and +banalities of German court life under the Old Régime. + +Notwithstanding his success as a playwright and his receipt of the +honorable title of Councilor from the Duke of Weimar, Schiller was +unhappy at Mannheim. Sickness, debt and loneliness oppressed him, +making creative work well-nigh impossible. In June, 1784, when the sky +was looking very black, he received a heartening letter from a quartet +of unknown admirers in Leipzig, one of whom was Gottfried Körner. +Schiller was deeply touched. In his hunger for sympathy and friendship +he resolved to leave Mannheim and seek out these good people who had +shown such a kindly interest in him. Fortunately Körner was a man of +some means and was able to help not only with words but with cash. So +it came about that in the spring of 1785 Schiller forsook Mannheim, +which had become as a prison to him, and went to Leipzig. Thence, +after a short sojourn, he followed Körner to Dresden. The relation +between the two men developed into a warm and mutually inspiring +friendship. A feeling of jubilant happiness took possession of +Schiller and soon found expression in the _Song to Joy_, wherein a +kiss of love and sympathy is offered to all mankind. + +[Illustration: 1. SCHILLER'S HOUSE IN WEIMAR] + +[Illustration: 2. SCHILLER'S BIRTHPLACE IN MARBACH] + +During his two years' sojourn in Dresden Schiller was mainly occupied +with the editing of a magazine, the _Thalia_, and with the completion +of _Don Carlos_, the first of his plays in blank verse. Hitherto he +had written with his eye on the stage, and in the savage spirit of the +Storm and Stress. Now, however, the higher ambition of the dramatic +poet began to assert itself. His views of life were changing, and his +nature craved a freer and nobler self-expression than was possible in +the "three hours' traffic of the stage." He had begun _Don Carlos_ at +Bauerbach, intending to make it a love-tragedy in a royal household +and incidentally to scourge the Spanish inquisition. Little by little, +however, the centre of his interest shifted from the lovesick Carlos +to the quixotic dreamer Posa, and the result was that the love-tragedy +gradually grew into a tragedy of political idealism with Posa for its +hero. As finally completed in the summer of 1787, _Don Carlos_ had +twice the length of an ordinary stage-play and, withal, a certain lack +of artistic unity. But its sonorous verse, its fine phrasing of large +ideas, and its noble dignity of style settled forever the question of +Schiller's power as a dramatic poet. The third act especially is +instinct with the best idealism of the eighteenth century. + +After _Don Carlos_ Schiller wrote no more plays for some nine years, +being occupied in the interval chiefly with history and philosophy. +His dramatic work had interested him more especially in the sixteenth +century. At Dresden he began to read history with great avidity and +found it very appetizing. What he most cared for, evidently, was not +the annals of warfare or the growth of institutions, but the +psychology of the great man. He was an ardent lover of freedom, both +political and intellectual, and took keen delight in tracing its +progress. On the other hand, play-writing had its disadvantages. Thus +far it had brought him more of notoriety than of solid fame, and his +income was so small that he was dependent on Körner's generosity. To +escape from this irksome position he decided to try his fortune in +Thuringia. Going over to Weimar, in the summer of 1787, he was well +received by Herder and Wieland--Goethe was just then in Italy--and +presently he settled down to write a history of the Dutch Rebellion. +His plan looked forward to six volumes, but only one was ever written. +It was published in 1788 under the title of _The Defection of the +Netherlands_ and led to its author's appointment as unsalaried +professor of history at the University of Jena. He began to lecture in +the spring of 1789. + +Meanwhile he had taken up the study of the Greek poets and found them +very edifying and sanative--just the influence that he needed to +clarify his judgment and correct his earlier vagaries of taste. He was +fascinated by the _Odyssey_ and in a mood of fleeting enthusiasm he +resolved to read nothing but the ancients for the next two years. +He translated the _Iphigenia in Aulis_ of Euripides and a part of _The +Phenician Women_. Out of this newborn ardor grew two important poems, +_The Gods of Greece_ and _The Artists_; the former an elegy on the +decay of Greek polytheism conceived as a loss of beauty to the world, +the latter a philosophic retrospect of human history wherein the +evolutionary function of art is glorified. At the same time he revived +the dormant _Thalia_ and used its columns for the continued +publication of _The Ghost-seer_, a pot-boiling novel which he had +begun at Dresden. It is Schiller's one serious attempt at prose +fiction. His initial purpose was to describe an elaborate and +fine-spun intrigue, devised by mysterious agents of the Church of +Rome, for the winning over of a Protestant German prince. The story +begins in a promising way, and the later portions contain fine +passages of narrative and character-drawing. But its author presently +began to feel that it was unworthy of him and left it unfinished. + +[Illustration: MONUMENT TO SCHILLER (Berlin) _Sculptor, Reinhold +Begas_] + +On the 22d of February, 1790, Schiller was married to Lotte von +Lengefeld, with whom he lived most happily the rest of his days. His +letters of this period tell of a quiet joy such as he had not known +before. And then, suddenly, his fair prospects were clouded by the +disastrous breakdown of his health. An attack of pneumonia in the +winter of 1790-1791 came near to a fatal ending, and hardly had he +recovered from that before he was prostrated by a second illness worse +than the first. He bade farewell to his friends, and the report went +abroad that he was dead. After a while he rallied, but never again to +be strong and well. From this time forth he must be thought of as a +semi-invalid, doomed to a very cautious mode of living and expectant +of an early death. It was to be a fourteen years' battle between a +heroic soul and an ailing body. + +For a while, owing to the forced cessation of the literary work on +which his small income depended, he was in great distress for lack of +money. His wife, while of noble family, had brought nothing but +herself to the marriage partnership. And then, just as in the dark +days at Mannheim in 1784, help seemed to come from the clouds. Two +Danish noblemen, ardent admirers quite unknown to him personally, +heard of his painful situation and offered him a pension of a thousand +thalers a year for three years. No conditions whatever were attached +to the gift; he was simply to follow his inclination, free from all +anxiety about a livelihood. Without hesitation he accepted the gift +and thus found himself, for the first time in his life, really free to +do as he chose. What he chose was to use his freedom for a grapple +with Kant's philosophy. Today this seems a strange choice for a sick +poet, but let Schiller himself explain what lay in his mind. He wrote +to Körner: + +"It is precisely for the sake of artistic creation that I wish to +philosophize. Criticism must repair the damage it has done me. And it +has done me great damage indeed; for I miss in myself these many years +that boldness, that living fire, that was mine before I knew a rule. +Now I see myself in the act of creating and fashioning; I observe the +play of inspiration, and my imagination works less freely, since it is +conscious of being watched. But if I once reach the point where +artistic procedure becomes natural, like education for the +well-nurtured man, then my fancy will get back its old freedom and +know no bounds but those of its own making." + +From these words we understand the nature of Schiller's enterprise--he +wished to fathom the laws of beauty. It seemed to him that beauty +could not be altogether a matter of changing taste, opinion, and +fashion; that somehow or other it must be grounded in eternal laws +either of the external world or of human nature. He felt, too, that a +knowledge of these laws, could it once become second nature, would be +very helpful to him as a dramatic poet. Whether he was right in so +thinking is a question too large to be discussed here, nor can we +follow him in the details of his esthetic speculation. The subject is +too abstruse to be dispatched in a few words. Suffice it to say that a +number of minor papers, the most important being _On Winsomeness and +Dignity (Über Anmut and Würde)_ and _On the Sublime_, prepared the way +for a more popular exposition of his views in the _Letters on Esthetic +Education_ and in the memorable essay _On Naïve and Sentimental +Poetry_, which deserves to be called, next to Lessing's _Laocoon_, the +weightiest critical essay of the eighteenth century. The Letters +contain a ripe and pleasing statement of Schiller's philosophy in its +relation to the culture-problems of his epoch. + +Along with these philosophic studies Schiller found time for much work +more closely related to his professorship of history. To say nothing +of his minor historical writings, he completed, in 1793, his _History +of the Thirty Years' War_. It appeared in successive numbers of +Göschen's _Ladies' Calendar_, a fact which in itself indicates that it +was not conceived and should not be judged as a monument of research. +The aim was to tell the story of the great war in a readable style. +And in this Schiller succeeded, especially in the parts relating to +his hero, the Swedish king Gustav Adolf. Over Schiller's merit as a +historian there has been much debate, and good critics have caviled at +his sharp contrasts and his lack of care in matters of detail. But the +great fact remains that the _Defection of the Netherlands_ and the +_Thirty Years' War_ are the earliest historical classics in the German +language. Schiller was the first German to make literature out of +history. + +The year 1794 brought about a closer relation between Schiller and +Goethe, an event of prime moment in the lives of both. On Goethe's +return from Italy, in the summer of 1788, Schiller was introduced to +him, but the meeting had no immediate consequences. In fact, Schiller +had quietly made up his mind not to like the man whom, for a whole +year, he had heard constantly lauded by the Weimar circle. He thought +of Goethe as a proud, self-centred son of fortune, with whom +friendship would be impossible. Goethe, on the other hand, was not +drawn to the author of _The Robbers_. He looked on the popularity of +the detestable play as a shocking evidence of depraved public taste +and was not aware how its author had changed since writing it. So it +came about that, for some six years, the two men lived as neighbors in +space but strangers in the spirit. At last, however, an accidental +meeting in Jena led to an interchange of views and prepared the way +for the most memorable of literary friendships. + +By this time Schiller had undertaken the editorship of a new literary +magazine to be called _Die Horen_, which was to be financed by the +enterprising publisher Cotta in Stuttgart. The plan was that it should +eclipse all previous undertakings of its kind. But it was to eschew +politics. Germany was just then agitated by the fierce passions of the +revolutionary epoch, and this excitement was regarded by Schiller as +ominous for the nation. There was need of esthetic education. So he +proposed to keep the _Horen_ clear of politics and try to divert the +minds of men into the serener regions of letters and art. To Goethe, +who also hated the Revolution, this was a highly acceptable program. +So he readily undertook to write for the _Horen_, and thus he and +Schiller soon became linked together in the public mind as allied +champions of a cause. It is for this reason that the Germans are wont +to call them the Dioscuri. + +By way of signalizing their community of interest the Dioscuri +presently began to write satirical distichs at the expense of men and +tendencies that they did not like. For example: + + Gentlemen, keep your seats! for the curs but covet your places, + Elegant places to hear all the other dogs bark. + +The making of these more or less caustic epigrams amused them. +Sometimes one would suggest the topic and the other write the distich; +again, one would do the hexameter, the other the pentameter. They +agreed that neither should ever claim separate property in the +_Xenia_, as they were called. The number grew apace, until it reached +nearly a thousand. About half the number on hand were published in +1797 in Schiller's _Musenalmanach_ and had the effect of setting all +Germany agog with curiosity, rage or solemn glee. Some of those hit +replied in kind or in vicious attacks, and for a little while there +was great excitement. But having discharged their broadside Goethe and +Schiller did not further pursue the ignoble warfare. They wisely came +to the conclusion that the best way to elevate the public taste was +not to assail the bad in mordant personal epigrams, but to exemplify +the good in creative work. + +After his nine years of fruitful wandering in other fields Schiller +returned at last, in 1796, to dramatic poetry. Once more it came in +his way to write for the stage, since Goethe was now director of the +Weimar theatre. After some hesitation between _Wallenstein_ and _The +Knights of Malta_, both of which had long haunted his thoughts, he +decided in favor of the former. It occupied him for three years and +finally left his hands as a long affair in three parts. Yet it is not +a trilogy in the proper sense, but a play in ten acts, preceded by a +dramatic prelude. At first Schiller found the material refractory. The +actual Wallenstein had never exhibited truly heroic qualities of any +kind, and his history involved only the cold passions of ambition, +envy, and vindictiveness. Whether he was really guilty of treason was +a moot question which admitted of no partisan treatment. But +Schiller's genius triumphed splendidly over the difficulties inherent +in the subject. In the _Camp_ we get a picturesque view of the motley +soldatesca which was the basis of Wallenstein's power and prestige. In +_The Piccolomini_ we see the nature of the dangerous game he is +playing, and in _Wallenstein's Death_ the unheroic hero becomes very +impressive in his final discomfiture and his pitiable taking-off. The +love-tragedy of Max and Thekla casts a mellow light of romance over +the otherwise austere political action. + +[Illustration: 1. THE MILITARY ACADEMY IN STUTTGART WHERE SCHILLER WAS +EDUCATED] + +[Illustration: 2. THE THEATRE IN MANNHEIM IN 1782 WHERE SCHILLER'S +"THE ROBBERS," "FIESCO," AND "LOVE AND INTRIGUE" WERE FIRST PLAYED] + +During the years 1795-1800 Schiller wrote a large number of short +poems in which he gave expression to his matured philosophy of life. +His best ballads also belong to this period. Pure song he did not +often attempt, his philosophic bent predisposing him to what the +Germans call the lyric of thought. Perhaps his invalidism had +something to do with it; at any rate the total number of his singable +lyrics, such as _The Maiden's Lament_, is but small. As a poet of +reflection he is at his best in _The Ideal and Life, The Walk, The +Eleusinian Festival_, and the more popular _Song of the Bell_. The +first-named of these four, at first called _The Realm of Shades_, is a +masterpiece of high thinking, charged with warm emotion and bodied +forth in gorgeous imagery. Its doctrine is that only by taking refuge +in the realm of the Ideal can we escape from the tyranny of the flesh, +the bondage of Nature's law, the misery of struggle and defeat. Yet it +is not a doctrine of quietism that is here preached, as if inner peace +were the supreme thing in life, but rather one of hopeful endeavor. +_The Walk_, one of the finest elegies in the German language, is a +pensive retrospect of the origins of civilization, loving +contemplation of Nature giving rise to reflections on man and his +estate. _The Song of the Bell_, probably the best known of all +Schiller's poems, gives expression to his feeling for the dignity of +labor and for the poetry of man's social life. Perhaps we may say that +the heart of his message is found in this stanza of _The Words of +Illusion_: + + And so, noble soul, forget not the law, + And to the true faith be leal; + What ear never heard and eye never saw, + The Beautiful, the True, they are real. + Look not without, as the fool may do; + It is in thee and ever created anew. + +In 1797--_Hermann and Dorothea_ was just then under way--Goethe and +Schiller interchanged views by letter on the subject of epic poetry in +general and the ballad in particular. As they had both written ballads +in their youth, it was but natural that they should be led to fresh +experiments with the species. So they both began to make ballads for +next year's _Musenalmanach_. Schiller contributed five, among them the +famous _Diver_ and _The Cranes of Ibycus_. In after years he wrote +several more, of which the best, perhaps, are _The Pledge_, a stirring +version of the Damon and Pythias story, and _The Battle with the +Dragon_, which, however, was called a romanza instead of a ballad. The +interest of all these poems turns mainly, of course, on the story, but +also, in no small degree, on the splendid art which the poet displays. +They are quite unlike any earlier German ballads, owing nothing to the +folk-song and making no use of the uncanny, the gruesome, or the +supernatural. There is no mystery in them, no resort to verbal tricks +such as Bürger had employed in _Lenore_. The subjects are not derived +from German folk-lore, but from Greek legend or medieval romance. +Their great merit is the strong and vivid, yet always noble, style +with which the details are set forth. + +[Illustration: THE CHURCH IN WHICH SCHILLER WAS MARRIED] + +We come back now to the province of art in which Schiller himself felt +that his strength lay, and to which he devoted nearly all his strength +during his remaining years. The very successful performance of the +complete _Wallenstein_ in the spring of 1799 added greatly to his +prestige, for discerning judges could see that something extraordinary +had been achieved. Weimar had by this time become the acknowledged +centre of German letters, and its modest little theatre now took on +fresh glory. Schiller had made himself very useful as a translator and +adapter, and Goethe was disposed to lean heavily on his friend's +superior knowledge of stage-craft. In order to be nearer to the +theatre and its director, Schiller moved over to Weimar in December, +1799, and took up his abode in what is now called the Schillerstrasse. +He was already working at _Mary Stuart_, which was finished the +following spring and first played on June 14, 1800. + +In _Mary Stuart_, as in _Wallenstein_, Schiller focused his light on a +famous personage who was the subject of passionate controversy. But of +course he did not wish to make a Catholic play, or a Protestant play, +or to have its effect dependent in any way on the spectator's +pre-assumed attitude toward the purely political questions involved. +So he decided to omit Mary's trial and to let the curtain rise on her +as a prisoner waiting for the verdict of her judges. This meant, +however, according to his conception of the tragic art, a pathetic +rather than a tragic situation; for the queen's fate would be a +foregone conclusion, and she could do nothing to avert it. To give her +the semblance of a tragic guilt he resorted to three unhistorical +inventions: First, an attempt to escape, with resulting complicity in +the act of the murderous Catholic fanatic Mortimer; second, a putative +love on the part of Mary for Leicester, who would use his great +influence to bring about a personal interview between her and +Elizabeth; and, finally, the meeting of the two queens, in which +Mary's long pent-up passion would get the better of her discretion and +betray her into a mortal insult of her rival. In reality, however, the +meeting of the two queens, while theatrically very effective, is not +the true climax of the play. That comes when Mary conquers her +rebellious spirit and accepts her ignominious fate as a divinely +appointed expiation for long-past sins. The play thus becomes a +tragedy of moral self-conquest in the presence of an undeserved death. + +Next in order came _The Maid of Orleans_, expressly called by its +author a romantic tragedy. It is a "rescue" of the Maid's character. +Shakespeare had depicted her as a witch, Voltaire as a vulgar fraud. +Schiller conceives her as a genuine ambassadress of God, or rather of +the Holy Virgin. Not only does he accept at its face value the +tradition of her "voices," her miraculous clairvoyance, her magic +influence on the French troops; but he makes her fight in the ranks +with men and gives to her a terrible avenging sword, before which no +Englishman can stand. But she, too, had to have her tragic guilt. So +Schiller makes her supernatural power depend--by the Virgin's express +command--on her renunciation of the love of man. A fleeting passion +for the English general Lionel, conceived on the battle-field in the +fury of combat, fills her with remorse and the sense of treason to her +high mission. For a while she is deprived of her self-confidence, and +with it of her supernatural power. There follow scenes of bitter +humiliation, until her expiation is complete. At last, purified by +suffering, she recovers her divine strength, breaks her fetters, +brings victory once more to the disheartened French soldiers, and dies +in glory on the field of battle. One sees that it is not at all the +real Jeanne d'Arc that Schiller depicts, but a glorified heroine +invested with divine power and called to be the savior of her country. +Here, for the first time in German drama, the passion of patriotism +plays an important part. + +After the completion of _The Maid of Orleans_ Schiller was minded to +try his hand on a tragedy "in the strictest Greek form." He had been +deeply impressed by the art of Sophocles and wished to create +something which should produce on the modern mind the effect of a +Greek tragedy, with its simple structure, its few characters, and +above all its chorus. But the choice of a subject was not easy, and +for several months he occupied himself with other matters. He made a +German version of Gozzi's _Turandot_ and took notes for a tragedy +about Perkin Warbeck. In the summer of 1802 he decided definitely to +carry out his plan of vying with the Greeks. _The Bride of Messina_ +was finished in February, 1803. While he was working at it there +arrived one day--it was in November, 1802--a patent of nobility from +the chancelry of the Holy Roman Empire. It may be noted in passing +that several years before he had been made an honorary citizen of the +French Republic, his name having been presented at the same time with +those of Washington, Wilberforce, and Kosciusko. + +Among the later plays of Schiller _The Bride of Messina_ is the one +which shows his stately poetic diction at its best, but has proved +least acceptable on the stage. As we have seen, it was an artistic +experiment. A medieval prince of Messina has an ominous dream which is +interpreted by an Arab astrologer to mean that a daughter to be born +will cause the death of his two sons, thus making an end of his +dynasty. When the child is born he orders it put to death. But +meanwhile his queen has had a dream of contrary import, and thereby +saves the life of her new-born daughter, but has her brought up remote +from the court. In time the two quarrelsome brothers, ignorant that +they have a sister, fall in love with the girl. One slays the other in +a frenzy of jealous rage, the other commits suicide in remorse. This +invention can hardly be called plausible. Indeed, so far as the mere +fable is concerned, it is a house of cards which would collapse any +moment at the breath of common sense. One must remember in reading the +play that common sense was not one of the nine muses. The dreams take +the place of the Delphic oracle, and the Greek chorus is represented +by two semi-choruses, the retainers of the quarreling brothers, who +speak their parts by the mouth of a leader, at one moment taking part +in the action, at another delivering the detached comment of the ideal +spectator. There is much splendid poetry in these pseudo-choruses, but +it was impossible that such a scheme should produce the effect of +the Greek choral dance. + +Did Schiller feel that in _The Bride of Messina_ he had wandered a +little too far away from the vital concerns of modern life? Probably, +for he next set to work on a play which should be popular in the best +sense of the word--_William Tell_. It is his one play with a happy +ending and has always been a prime favorite on the stage. The hero is +the Swiss people, and the action idealizes the legendary uprising of +the Forest Cantons against their Austrian governors. There are really +three separate actions: the conspiracy, the love-affair of Bertha and +Rudenz, the exploits of William Tell. All, however, contribute to the +common end, which is the triumph of the Swiss people over their +oppressors. The exposition is superb, there is rapidity of movement, +variety, picturesqueness, the glamor of romance; and the feelings +evoked are such as warm and keep warm the cockles of the heart. When +the famous actor Iffland received the manuscript of the first act, in +February, 1804, he wrote: + +"I have read, devoured, bent my knee; and my heart, my tears, my +rushing blood, have paid ecstatic homage to your spirit, to your +heart. Oh, more! Soon, soon more! Pages, scraps--whatever you can +send. I tender heart and hand to your genius. What a work! What +wealth, power, poetic beauty, and irresistible force! God keep you! +Amen." + +With _Tell_ off his hands Schiller next threw his tireless energy on a +Russian subject--the story of Dmitri, reputed son of Ivan the +Terrible. The reading, note-taking and planning proved a long +laborious task, and there were many interruptions. In November, 1804, +the hereditary Prince of Weimar brought home a Russian bride, Maria +Paulovna, and for her reception he wrote _The Homage of the Arts_--a +slight affair which served its purpose well. The reaction from these +Russophil festivities left him in a weakened condition, and, feeling +unequal to creative effort, he translated Racine's _Phèdre_ into +German verse, finishing it in February, 1805. Then he returned with +great zest to his Russian play _Demetrius_, of which enough was +written to indicate that it might have become his masterpiece. But the +flame had burnt itself out. Toward the end of April he took a cold +which led to a violent fever with delirium. The end came on May 9, +1805. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER AT THE COURT OF WEIMAR] + +No attempt can here be made at a general estimate of Schiller's +dramatic genius. The serious poetic drama, such as he wrote in his +later years, is no longer in favor anywhere. In Germany, as in our own +land, the temper of the time is on the whole hostile to that form of +art. We demand, very properly, a drama attuned to the life of the +present; one occupied, as we say, with living issues. Yet Schiller is +very popular on the German stage. After the lapse of a century, and +notwithstanding the fact that he _seems_ to speak to us from the +clouds, he holds his own. Why is this? It is partly because of a +quality of his art that has been called his "monumental +fresco-painting"; that is, his strong and luminous portraiture of the +great historic forces that have shaped the destiny of nations. These +forces are matters of the spirit, of the inner life; and they persist +from age to age, but little affected by the changing fashion of the +theatre. The reader of Schiller soon comes to feel that he deals with +issues that are alive because they are immortal. + +Another important factor in his classicity is the suggestion that goes +out from his idealized personality. German sentiment has set him on a +high pedestal and made a hero of him, so that his word is not exactly +as another man's word. Something of this was felt by those about him +even in his lifetime. Says Karoline von Wolzogen: "High seriousness +and the winsome grace of a pure and noble soul were always present in +Schiller's conversation; in listening to him one walked as among the +changeless stars of heaven and the flowers of earth." This is the +tribute of a partial friend, but it describes very well the impression +produced by Schiller's writings. His love of freedom and beauty, his +confidence in reason, his devotion to the idea of humanity, seem to +exhale from his work and to invest it with a peculiar distinction. His +plays and poems are a priceless memento to the spirit of a great and +memorable epoch. Hundreds of writers have said their say about him, +but no better word has been spoken than the noble tribute of Goethe: + + For he was ours. So let the note of pride + Hush into silence all the mourner's ruth; + In our safe harbor he was fain to bide + And build for aye, after the storm of youth. + We saw his mighty spirit onward stride + To eternal realms of Beauty and of Truth; + While far behind him lay fantasmally + The vulgar things that fetter you and me. + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Translated by Edward, Lord Lytton.] + +[Footnote 2: This Sonnet, by the author of this sketch of Schiller's +life, was written for the Chicago Schiller Celebration of 1905, but +has not been printed before. EDITOR.] + + * * * * * + + + + +POEMS + + +[All poems in this section are translations by Edward, Lord Lytton, +and appear by permission of George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., London.] + + * * * * * + +TO THE IDEAL (1795) + + Then wilt thou, with thy fancies holy-- + Wilt thou, faithless, fly from me? + With thy joy, thy melancholy, + Wilt thou thus relentless flee? + O Golden Time, O Human May, + Can nothing, Fleet One, thee restraint? + Must thy sweet river glide away + Into the eternal Ocean Main? + + The suns serene are lost and vanish'd + That wont the path of youth to gild, + And all the fair Ideals banish'd + From that wild heart they whilome fill'd. + Gone the divine and sweet believing + In dreams which Heaven itself unfurl'd! + What godlike shapes have years bereaving + Swept from this real work-day world! + + As once, with tearful passion fired, + The Cyprian Sculptor clasp'd the stone, + Till the cold cheeks, delight-inspired, + Blush'd--to sweet life the marble grown: + So youth's desire for Nature!--round + The Statue so my arms I wreathed, + Till warmth and life in mine it found, + And breath that poets breathe--it breathed; + + With my own burning thoughts it burn'd;-- + Its silence stirr'd to speech divine;-- + Its lips my glowing kiss return'd-- + Its heart in beating answer'd mine! + How fair was then the flower--the tree!-- + How silver-sweet the fountain's fall! + The soulless had a soul to me! + My life its own life lent to all! + + The Universe of things seem'd swelling + The panting heart to burst its bound, + And wandering Fancy found a dwelling + In every shape, thought, deed, and sound. + Germ'd in the mystic buds, reposing, + A whole creation slumbered mute, + Alas, when from the buds unclosing, + How scant and blighted sprung the fruit! + + How happy in his dreaming error, + His own gay valor for his wing, + Of not one care as yet in terror + Did Youth upon his journey spring; + Till floods of balm, through air's dominion, + Bore upward to the faintest star-- + For never aught to that bright pinion + Could dwell too high, or spread too far. + + Though laden with delight, how lightly + The wanderer heavenward still could soar, + And aye the ways of life how brightly + The airy Pageant danced before! + Love, showering gifts (life's sweetest) down, + Fortune, with golden garlands gay, + And Fame, with starbeams for a crown, + And Truth, whose dwelling is the Day. + + Ah! midway soon lost evermore, + Afar the blithe companions stray; + In vain their faithless steps explore, + As one by one, they glide away. + Fleet Fortune was the first escaper-- + The thirst for wisdom linger'd yet; + But doubts with many a gloomy vapor + The sun-shape of the Truth beset! + + The holy crown which Fame was wreathing, + Behold! the mean man's temples wore, + And, but for one short spring-day breathing, + Bloom'd Love--the Beautiful--no more! + And ever stiller yet, and ever + The barren path more lonely lay, + Till scarce from waning Hope could quiver + A glance along the gloomy way. + + Who, loving, lingered yet to guide me, + When all her boon companions fled, + Who stands consoling yet beside me, + And follows to the House of Dread? + Thine FRIENDSHIP--thine the hand so tender, + Thine the balm dropping on the wound, + Thy task the load more lightly to render-- + O! earliest sought and soonest found! + + And Thou, so pleased, with her uniting, + To charm the soul-storm into peace, + Sweet TOIL, in toil itself delighting, + That more it labored, less could cease; + Tho' but by grains thou aid'st the pile + The vast Eternity uprears, + At least thou strik'st from Time the while + Life's debt--the minutes, days and years.[3] + + * * * * * + + + +THE VEILED IMAGE AT SAÏS (1795) + + + A youth, whom wisdom's warm desire had lured + To learn the secret lore of Egypt's priests, + To Saïs came. And soon, from step to step + Of upward mystery, swept his rapid soul! + Still ever sped the glorious Hope along, + Nor could the parch'd Impatience halt, appeased + By the calm answer of the Hierophant-- + "What have I, if I have not all," he sigh'd; + "And giv'st thou but the little and the more? + Does thy truth dwindle to the gauge of gold, + A sum that man may smaller or less small + Possess and count--subtract or add to--still? + Is not TRUTH _one_ and indivisible? + Take from the Harmony a single tone + A single tint take from the Iris bow-- + And lo! what once was all, is nothing--while + Fails to the lovely whole one tint or tone!" + + They stood within the temple's silent dome, + And, as the young man paused abrupt, his gaze + Upon a veil'd and giant IMAGE fell: + Amazed he turn'd unto his guide--"And what + Towers, yonder, vast beneath the veil?" + "THE TRUTH," + Answered the Priest. + "And have I for the truth + Panted and struggled with a lonely soul, + And yon the thin and ceremonial robe + That wraps her from mine eyes?" + Replied the Priest, + "There shrouds herself the still Divinity. + Hear, and revere her best: 'Till I this veil + Lift--may no mortal-born presume to raise; + And who with guilty and unhallow'd hand + Too soon profanes the Holy and Forbidden-- + He,' says the goddess."-- + "Well?" + "'SHALL SEE THE TRUTH!'" + "And wond'rous oracle; and hast _thou_ never + Lifted the veil?" + "No! nor desired to raise!" + "What! nor desired? O strange, incurious heart, + Here the thin barrier--there reveal'd the truth!" + Mildly return'd the priestly master: "Son, + More mighty than thou dream'st of, Holy Law + Spreads interwoven in yon slender web, + Air-light to touch--lead-heavy to the soul!" + + The young man, thoughtful, turn'd him to his home, + And the sharp fever of the Wish to Know + Robb'd night of sleep. Around his couch he roll'd, + Till midnight hatch'd resolve-- + "Unto the shrine!" + Stealthily on, the involuntary tread + Bears him--he gains the boundary, scales the wall, + And midway in the inmost, holiest dome, + Strides with adventurous step the daring man. + + Now halts he where the lifeless Silence sleeps + In the embrace of mournful Solitude;-- + Silence unstirr'd--save where the guilty tread + Call'd the dull echo from mysterious vaults! + + High from the opening of the dome above, + Came with wan smile the silver-shining moon. + And, awful as some pale presiding god, + Dim-gleaming through the hush of that large gloom, + In its wan veil the Giant Image stood. + + With an unsteady step he onward past, + Already touch'd the violating hand + The Holy--and recoil'd! a shudder thrill'd + His limbs, fire-hot and icy-cold in turns, + As if invisible arms would pluck the soul + Back from the deed. + "O miserable man! + What would'st thou?" (Thus within the inmost heart + Murmur'd the warning whisper.) "Wilt thou dare + The All-hallow'd to profane? 'No mortal-born' + (So spake the oracular word)--'may lift the veil + Till I myself shall raise!' Yet said it not-- + The same oracular word--'who lifts the veil + Shall see the truth?' Behind, be what there may, + I dare the hazard--I will lift the veil--" + Loud rang his shouting voice--"and I will see!" + "SEE!" + A lengthen'd echo, mocking, shrill'd again! + He spoke and rais'd the veil! And ask'st thou what + Unto the sacrilegious gaze lay bare? + I know not--pale and senseless, stretch'd before + The statue of the great Egyptian queen, + The priests beheld him at the dawn of day; + But what he saw, or what did there befall, + His lips reveal'd not. Ever from his heart + Was fled the sweet serenity of life, + And the deep anguish dug the early grave + "Woe--woe to him"--such were his warning words, + Answering some curious and impetuous brain, + "Woe--for her face shall charm him never more! + Woe--woe to him who treads through Guilt to TRUTH!" + + * * * * * + + + +THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL LIFE (1795) + + I + + Forever fair, forever calm and bright, + Life flies on plumage, zephyr-light, + For those who on the Olympian hill rejoice-- + Moons wane, and races wither to the tomb, + And 'mid the universal ruin, bloom + The rosy days of Gods-- + With Man, the choice, + Timid and anxious, hesitates between + The sense's pleasure and the soul's content; + While on celestial brows, aloft and sheen, + The beams of both are blent. + + II + + Seek'st thou on earth the life of Gods to share, + Safe in the Realm of Death?--beware + To pluck the fruits that glitter to thine eye; + Content thyself with gazing on their glow-- + Short are the joys Possession can bestow, + And in Possession sweet Desire will die. + 'Twas not the ninefold chain of waves that bound + Thy daughter, Ceres, to the Stygian river-- + She pluck'd the fruit of the unholy ground, + And so--was Hell's forever! + + III + + The Weavers of the Web--the Fates--but sway + The matter and the things of clay; + Safe from each change that Time to Matter gives, + Nature's blest playmate, free at will to stray + With Gods a god, amidst the fields of Day, + The FORM, the ARCHETYPE,[4] serenely lives. + Would'st thou soar heavenward on its joyous wing? + Cast from thee, Earth, the bitter and the real, + High from this cramp'd and dungeon being, spring + Into the Realm of the Ideal! + + IV + + Here, bathed, Perfection, in thy purest ray, + Free from the clogs and taints of clay, + Hovers divine the Archetypal Man! + Dim as those phantom ghosts of life that gleam + And wander voiceless by the Stygian stream,-- + Fair as it stands in fields Elysian, + Ere down to Flesh the Immortal doth descend:-- + If doubtful ever in the Actual life + Each contest--_here_ a victory crowns the end + Of every nobler strife. + + V + + Not from the strife itself to set thee free, + But more to nerve--doth Victory + Wave her rich garland from the Ideal clime. + Whate'er thy wish, the Earth has no repose-- + Life still must drag thee onward as it flows, + Whirling thee down the dancing surge of Time. + But when the courage sinks beneath the dull + Sense of its narrow limits--on the soul, + Bright from the hill-tops of the Beautiful, + Bursts the attainèd goal! + + VI + + If worth thy while the glory and the strife + Which fire the lists of Actual Life-- + The ardent rush to fortune or to fame, + In the hot field where Strength and Valor are, + And rolls the whirling thunder of the car, + And the world, breathless, eyes the glorious game-- + Then dare and strive--the prize can but belong + To him whose valor o'er his tribe prevails; + In life the victory only crowns the strong-- + He who is feeble fails. + + VII + + But Life, whose source, by crags around it pil'd, + Chafed while confin'd, foams fierce and wild, + Glides soft and smooth when once its streams expand, + When its waves, glassing in their silver play, + Aurora blent with Hesper's milder ray, + Gain the Still BEAUTIFUL--that Shadow-Land! + Here, contest grows but interchange of Love; + All curb is but the bondage of the Grace; + Gone is each foe,--Peace folds her wings above + Her native dwelling-place. + + VIII + + When, through dead stone to breathe a soul of light, + With the dull matter to unite + The kindling genius, some great sculptor glows; + Behold him straining every nerve intent-- + Behold how, o'er the subject element, + The stately THOUGHT its march laborious goes! + For never, save to Toil untiring, spoke + The unwilling Truth from her mysterious well-- + The statue only to the chisel's stroke + Wakes from its marble cell. + + IX + + But onward to the Sphere of Beauty--go + Onward, O Child of Art! and, lo, + Out of the matter which thy pains control + The Statue springs!--not as with labor wrung + From the hard block, but as from Nothing sprung-- + Airy and light--the offspring of the soul! + The pangs, the cares, the weary toils it cost + Leave not a trace when once the work is done-- + The Artist's human frailty merged and lost + In Art's great victory won! + + X + + If human Sin confronts the rigid law + Of perfect Truth and Virtue, awe + Seizes and saddens thee to see how far + Beyond thy reach, Perfection;--if we test + By the Ideal of the Good, the best, + How mean our efforts and our actions are! + This space between the Ideal of man's soul + And man's achievement, who hath ever past? + An ocean spreads between us and that goal + Where anchor ne'er was cast! + + XI + + But fly the boundary of the Senses--live + The Ideal life free Thought can give; + And, lo, the gulf shall vanish, and the chill + Of the soul's impotent despair be gone! + And with divinity thou sharest the throne, + Let but divinity become thy will! + Scorn not the Law--permit its iron band + The sense (it cannot chain the soul) to thrall. + Let man no more the will of Jove withstand, + And Jove the bolt lets fall! + + XII + + If, in the woes of Actual Human Life-- + If thou could'st see the serpent strife + Which the Greek Art has made divine in stone-- + Could'st see the writhing limbs, the livid cheek, + Note every pang, and hearken every shriek + Of some despairing lost Laocoon, + The human nature would thyself subdue + To share the human woe before thine eye-- + Thy cheek would pale, and all thy soul be true + To Man's great Sympathy. + + XIII + + But in the Ideal Realm, aloof and far, + Where the calm Art's pure dwellers are, + Lo, the Laocoon writhes, but does not groan. + Here, no sharp grief the high emotion knows-- + Here, suffering's self is made divine, and shows + The brave resolve of the firm soul alone: + Here, lovely as the rainbow on the dew + Of the spent thunder-cloud, to Art is given, + Gleaming through Grief's dark veil, the peaceful blue + Of the sweet Moral Heaven. + + XIV + + So, in the glorious parable, behold + How, bow'd to mortal bonds, of old + Life's dreary path divine Alcides trod: + The hydra and the lion were his prey, + And to restore the friend he loved today, + He went undaunted to the black-brow'd God; + And all the torments and the labors sore + Wroth Juno sent--the meek majestic One, + With patient spirit and unquailing, bore, + Until the course was run-- + + XV + + Until the God cast down his garb of clay, + And rent in hallowing flame away + The mortal part from the divine--to soar + To the empyreal air! Behold him spring + Blithe in the pride of the unwonted wing, + And the dull matter that confined before + Sinks downward, downward, downward as a dream! + Olympian hymns receive the escaping soul, + And smiling Hebe, from the ambrosial stream, + Fills for a God the bowl! + + * * * * * + + + +GENIUS (1795) + + Do I believe, thou ask'st, the Master's word, + The Schoolman's shibboleth that binds the herd? + To the soul's haven is there but one chart? + Its peace a problem to be learned by art? + On system rest the happy and the good? + To base the temple must the props be wood? + Must I distrust the gentle law, imprest, + To guide and warn, by Nature on the breast, + Till, squared to rule the instinct of the soul,-- + Till the School's signet stamp the eternal scroll, + Till in one mold some dogma hath confined + The ebb and flow--the light waves--of the mind? + Say thou, familiar to these depths of gloom, + Thou, safe ascended from the dusty tomb, + Thou, who hast trod these weird Egyptian cells-- + Say--if Life's comfort with yon mummies dwells!-- + Say--and I grope--with saddened steps indeed-- + But on, thro' darkness, if to Truth it lead! + + Nay, Friend, thou know'st the golden time--the age + Whose legends live in many a poet's page? + When heavenlier shapes with Man walked side by side, + And the chaste Feeling was itself a guide; + Then the great law, alike divine amid + Suns bright in Heaven, or germs in darkness hid-- + That silent law--(call'd whether by the name + Of Nature or Necessity, the same), + To that deep sea, the heart, its movement gave-- + Sway'd the full tide, and freshened the free wave. + Then sense unerring--because unreproved-- + True as the finger on the dial moved, + Half-guide, half-playmate, of Earth's age of youth, + The sportive instinct of Eternal Truth. + Then, nor Initiate nor Profane were known; + Where the Heart felt--there Reason found a throne: + Not from the dust below, but life around + Warm Genius shaped what quick Emotion found. + One rule, like light, for every bosom glowed, + Yet hid from all the fountain whence it flowed. + But, gone that blessed Age!--our wilful pride + Has lost, with Nature, the old peaceful Guide. + Feeling, no more to raise us and rejoice, + Is heard and honored as a Godhead's voice; + And, disenhallowed in its eldest cell + The Human Heart--lies mute the Oracle, + Save where the low and mystic whispers thrill + Some listening spirit more divinely still. + There, in the chambers of the inmost heart, + There, must the Sage explore the Magian's art; + There, seek the long-lost Nature's steps to track, + Till, found once more, she gives him Wisdom back! + Hast thou--(O Blest, if so, whate'er betide!)-- + Still kept the Guardian Angel by thy side? + Can thy Heart's guileless childhood yet rejoice + In the sweet instinct with its warning voice? + Does Truth yet limn upon untroubled eyes, + Pure and serene, her world of Iris-dies? + Rings clear the echo which her accent calls + Back from the breast, on which the music falls? + In the calm mind is doubt yet hush'd--and will + That doubt tomorrow, as today, be still? + Will all these fine sensations in their play, + No censor need to regulate and sway? + Fear'st thou not in the insidious Heart to find + The source of Trouble to the limpid mind? + + No!--then thine Innocence thy Mentor be! + Science can teach thee naught--she learns from thee! + Each law that lends lame succor to the Weak-- + The cripple's crutch--the vigorous need not seek! + From thine own self thy rule of action draw; + That which thou dost--what charms thee--is thy Law, + And founds to every race a code sublime-- + What pleases Genius gives a Law to Time! + The Word--the Deed--all Ages shall command, + Pure if thy lip and holy if thy hand! + Thou, thou alone mark'st not within thy heart + The inspiring God whose Minister thou art, + Know'st not the magic of the mighty ring + Which bows the realm of Spirits to their King: + But meek, nor conscious of diviner birth, + Glide thy still footsteps thro' the conquered Earth! + + * * * * * + + + +VOTIVE TABLETS + +[Under this title Schiller arranged that more dignified and +philosophical portion of the small Poems published as Epigrams in the +_Musen Almanach_; which rather sought to point a general thought, than +a personal satire.--Many of these, however, are either wholly without +interest for the English reader, or express in almost untranslatable +laconism what, in far more poetical shapes, Schiller has elsewhere +repeated and developed. We, therefore, content ourselves with such a +selection as appears to us best suited to convey a fair notion of the +object and spirit of the class.--Translator] + + * * * * * + + +MOTTO TO THE VOTIVE TABLETS. + + What the God taught--what has befriended all + Life's ways, I place upon the Votive Wall. + + * * * * * + + +THE GOOD AND THE BEAUTIFUL + +(ZWEIERLEI WIRKUNGSARTEN) + + The Good's the Flower to Earth already given-- + The Beautiful, on Earth sows flowers from Heaven! + + * * * * * + + +VALUE AND WORTH + + If thou _hast_ something, bring thy goods--a fair return be thine; + If thou _art_ something, bring thy soul and interchange with mine. + + * * * * * + + +THE KEY + + To know _thyself_--in others self discern; + Wouldst thou know others? Read thyself--and learn! + + * * * * * + + +THE DIVISION OF RANKS + + Yes, in the moral world, as ours, we see + Divided grades--a Soul's Nobility; + By deeds their titles Commoners create-- + The loftier order are by birthright great.[5] + + * * * * * + + +TO THE MYSTIC + + Spreads Life's true mystery round us evermore, + Seen by no eye, it lies all eyes before. + + * * * * * + + +WISDOM AND PRUDENCE + + Wouldst thou the loftiest height of Wisdom gain? + On to the rashness, Prudence would disdain; + The purblind see but the receding shore, + Not that to which the bold wave wafts thee o'er! + + * * * * * + + +THE UNANIMITY + + Truth seek we both--Thou, in the life without thee and around; + I in the Heart within--by both can Truth alike be found; + The healthy eye can through the world the great Creator track-- + The healthy heart is but the glass which gives creation back. + + * * * * * + + +THE SCIENCE OF POLITICS + + All that thou dost be right--to that alone confine thy view, + And halt within the certain rule--the All that's right to do! + True zeal _the what already is_ would sound and perfect see; + False zeal would sound and perfect make the something that's to be! + + * * * * * + + +TO ASTRONOMERS + + Of the Nebulæ and planets do not babble so to me; + What! is Nature only mighty inasmuch as you can see? + Inasmuch as you can measure her immeasurable ways, + As she renders world on world, sun and system to your gaze? + Though through space your object be the Sublimest to embrace, + Never the Sublime abideth--where you vainly search--in space! + + * * * * * + + +THE BEST GOVERNED STATE + + How the best state to know?--It is found out, + Like the best women--that least talked about. + + * * * * * + + +MY BELIEF + + What thy religion? Those thou namest--none! + None! Why?--Because I have religion! + + * * * * * + + +FRIEND AND FOE + + Dear is my friend--yet from my foe, as from my friend, comes good; + My friend shows what I _can_ do, and my foe shows what I _should_. + + * * * * * + + +LIGHT AND COLOR + + Dwell, Light, beside the changeless God--God spoke and Light began; + Come, thou, the ever-changing one--come, Color, down to Man! + + * * * * * + + +FORUM OF WOMEN + + Woman--to judge man rightly--do not scan + Each separate act;--pass judgment on the Man! + + * * * * * + + +GENIUS + + Intellect can repeat what's been fulfill'd, + And, aping Nature, as she buildeth--build; + O'er Nature's base can haughty Reason dare + To pile its lofty castle--in the air. + But only thine, O Genius, is the charge, + In Nature's kingdom Nature to enlarge! + + * * * * * + + +THE IMITATOR + + Good out of good--that art is known to all-- + But Genius from the bad the good can call; + Then, Mimic, not from leading-strings escaped, + Work'st but the matter that's already shaped + The already-shaped a nobler hand awaits-- + All matter asks a Spirit that _creates!_ + + * * * * * + + +CORRECTNESS + +(FREE TRANSLATION) + + The calm correctness, where no fault we see, + Attests Art's loftiest or its least degree; + Alike the smoothness of the surface shows + The Pool's dull stagner--the great Sea's repose. + + * * * * * + + +THE MASTER + + The herd of scribes, by what they tell us, + Show all in which their wits excel us; + But the True Master we behold, + In what his art leaves--just untold. + + * * * * * + + +EXPECTATION AND FULFILLMENT + + O'er Ocean, with a thousand masts, sails forth the stripling bold-- + One boat, hard rescued from the deep, draws into port the old! + + * * * * * + + +THE PROSELYTE MAKER + + "A little earth from out the Earth-and I + The Earth will move:" so spake the Sage divine. + Out of myself one little moment--try + Myself to take:--succeed, and I am thine! + + * * * * * + + +THE CONNECTING MEDIUM + + What to cement the lofty and the mean + Does Nature?--What?--Place vanity between? + + * * * * * + + +THE MORAL POET + +[This is an Epigram on Lavater's work, called "Pontius Pilatus, oder der +Mensch in Allen Gestalten," etc.--TRANSLATOR.] + + "How poor a thing is man!" Alas, 'tis true + I'd half forgot it--when I chanced on you! + + * * * * * + + +THE SUBLIME THEME + +[Also on Lavater, and alluding to the "Jesus Messias, oder die Evangelien +und Apostelgeschichte in Gesängen."--TRANSLATOR.] + + How God compassionates Mankind, thy muse, my friend, rehearses-- + Compassion for the sins of Man!--What comfort for thy verses! + + * * * * * + + +SCIENCE + + To some she is the Goddess great, to some the milch-cow of the field; + Their care is but to calculate--what butter she will yield. + + * * * * * + + +KANT AND HIS COMMENTATORS + + How many starvelings one rich man can nourish! + When monarchs build, the rubbish-carriers flourish. + + * * * * * + + +THE MAIDEN FROM AFAR (1796) + + Within a vale, each infant year, + When earliest larks first carol free, + To humble shepherds doth appear + A wondrous maiden, fair to see. + Not born within that lowly place-- + From whence she wander'd, none could tell; + Her parting footsteps left no trace, + When once the maiden bade farewell. + + And blessèd was her presence there-- + Each heart, expanding, grew more gay; + Yet something loftier still than fair + Kept man's familiar looks away. + From fairy gardens, known to none, + She brought mysterious fruits and flowers-- + The things of some serener sun-- + Some Nature more benign than ours. + + With each, her gifts the maiden shared-- + To some the fruits, the flowers to some; + Alike the young, the aged fared; + Each bore a blessing back to home. + Though every guest was welcome there, + Yet some the maiden held more dear, + And cull'd her rarest sweets whene'er + She saw two hearts that loved draw near. + + * * * * * + + +THE GLOVE (1797) + +A TALE + + Before his lion-court, + To see the gruesome sport, + Sate the king; + Beside him group'd his princely peers; + And dames aloft, in circling tiers, + Wreath'd round their blooming ring. + King Francis, where he sate, + Raised a finger--yawn'd the gate, + And, slow from his repose, + A LION goes! + Dumbly he gazed around + The foe-encircled ground; + And, with a lazy gape, + He stretch'd his lordly shape, + And shook his careless mane, + And--laid him down again! + +[Illustration: THE KNIGHT SCORNS CUNIGONDE Eugen Klimsch] + + A finger raised the king-- + And nimbly have the guard + A second gate unbarr'd; + Forth, with a rushing spring, + A TIGER sprung! + Wildly the wild one yell'd + When the lion he beheld; + And, bristling at the look, + With his tail his sides he strook, + And roll'd his rabid tongue; + In many a wary ring + He swept round the forest king, + With a fell and rattling sound;-- + And laid him on the ground, + Grommelling! + The king raised his finger; then + Leap'd two LEOPARDS from the den + With a bound; + And boldly bounded they + Where the crouching tiger lay + Terrible! + And he gripped the beasts in his deadly hold; + In the grim embrace they grappled and roll'd; + Rose the lion with a roar! + And stood the strife before; + And the wild-cats on the spot, + From the blood-thirst, wroth and hot, + Halted still! + Now from the balcony above, + A snowy hand let fall a glove:-- + Midway between the beasts of prey, + Lion and tiger; there it lay, + The winsome lady's glove! + +Fair Cunigonde said, with a lip of scorn, +To the knight DELORGES--"If the love you have sworn +Were as gallant and leal as you boast it to be, +I might ask you to bring back that glove to me!" + +The knight left the place where the lady sate; +The knight he has pass'd thro' the fearful gate; +The lion and tiger he stoop'd above, +And his fingers have closed on the lady's glove! + +All shuddering and stunn'd, they beheld him there-- +The noble knights and the ladies fair; +But loud was the joy and the praise, the while +He bore back the glove with his tranquil smile! + +With a tender look in her softening eyes, +That promised reward to his warmest sighs, +Fair Cunigonde rose her knight to grace; +He toss'd the glove in the lady's face! +"Nay, spare me the guerdon, at least," quoth he; +And he left forever that fair ladye! + + * * * * * + + + +[Illustration: THE DIVER CARL GEHRTS] + +THE DIVER (1797) + +A BALLAD + + +[The original of the story on which Schiller has founded this ballad, +matchless perhaps for the power and grandeur of its descriptions, is +to be found in Kircher. According to the true principles of imitative +art, Schiller has preserved all that is striking in the legend, and +ennobled all that is common-place. The name of the Diver was Nicholas, +surnamed the Fish. The King appears, according to Hoffmeister's +probable conjectures, to have been either Frederic I. or Frederic II., +of Sicily. Date from 1295 to 1377.] + + "Oh, where is the knight or the squire so bold, + As to dive to the howling charybdis below?-- + I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold, + And o'er it already the dark waters flow; + Whoever to me may the goblet bring, + Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his king." + + He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep, + That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge + Of the endless and measureless world of the deep, + Swirl'd into the maëlstrom that madden'd the surge. + "And where is the diver so stout to go-- + I ask ye again--to the deep below?" + And the knights and the squires that gather'd around, + Stood silent--and fix'd on the ocean their eyes; + + They look'd on the dismal and savage Profound, + And the peril chill'd back every thought of the prize. + And thrice spoke the monarch--"The cup to win, + Is there never a wight who will venture in?" + + And all as before heard in silence the king-- + Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle, + 'Mid the tremulous squires--stept out from the ring, + Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle; + And the murmuring crowd as they parted asunder, + On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder. + + As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave + One glance on the gulf of that merciless main; + Lo! the wave that forever devours the wave + Casts roaringly up the charybdis again; + And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom, + Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom. + + And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,[6] + As when fire is with water commix'd and contending, + And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, + And flood upon flood hurries on, never-ending. + And it never _will_ rest, nor from travail be free, + Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea. + + Yet, at length, comes a lull O'er the mighty commotion, + As the whirlpool sucks into black smoothness the swell + Of the white-foaming breakers--and cleaves thro' the ocean + A path that seems winding in darkness to hell. + Round and round whirl'd the waves-deeper and deeper + still driven, + Like a gorge thro' the mountainous main thunder-riven! + + The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before + That path through the riven abyss closed again-- + Hark! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore, + And, behold! he is whirl'd in the grasp of the main! + And o'er him the breakers mysteriously roll'd, + And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold. + + O'er the surface grim silence lay dark; but the crowd + Heard the wail from the deep murmur hollow and fell; + They hearken and shudder, lamenting aloud-- + "Gallant youth-noble heart-fare-thee-well, fare-thee-well!" + More hollow and more wails the deep on the ear-- + More dread and more dread grows suspense in its fear. + + If thou should'st in those waters thy diadem fling, + And cry, "Who may find it shall win it and wear;" + God wot, though the prize were the crown of a king-- + A crown at such hazard were valued too dear. + For never shall lips of the living reveal + What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal. + + Oh, many a bark, to that breast grappled fast, + Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave; + Again, crash'd together the keel and the mast, + To be seen, toss'd aloft in the glee of the wave. + Like the growth of a storm, ever louder and clearer, + Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer. + + And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars, + As when fire is with water commix'd and contending; + And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, + And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending; + And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom + Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom. + + And, lo! from the heart of that far-floating gloom,[7] + What gleams on the darkness so swanlike and white? + Lo! an arm and a neck, glancing up from the tomb!-- + They battle--the Man's with the Element's might. + It is he--it is he! In his left hand, behold! + As a sign!--as a joy!--shines the goblet of gold! + + And he breathed deep, and he breathed long, + And he greeted the heavenly delight of the day. + They gaze on each other--they shout, as they throng-- + "He lives--lo the ocean has render'd its prey! + And safe from the whirlpool and free from the grave, + Comes back to the daylight the soul of the brave!" + + And he comes, with the crowd in their clamor and glee, + And the goblet his daring has won from the water, + He lifts to the king as he sinks on his knee;-- + And the king from her maidens has beckon'd his daughter-- + She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring, + And thus spake the Diver--"Long life to the king! + + "Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice, + The air and the sky that to mortals are given! + May the horror below never more find a voice-- + Nor Man stretch too far the wide mercy of Heaven! + Never more--never more may he lift from the sight + The veil which is woven with Terror and Night! + + "Quick-brightening like lightning--it tore me along, + Down, down, till the gush of a torrent, at play + In the rocks of its wilderness, caught me--and strong + As the wings of an eagle, it whirl'd me away. + Vain, vain was my struggle--the circle had won me, + Round and round in its dance, the wild element spun me. + + "And I call'd on my God, and my God heard my prayer + In the strength of my need, in the gasp of my breath-- + And show'd me a crag that rose up from the lair, + And I clung to it, nimbly--and baffled the death! + And, safe in the perils around me, behold + On the spikes of the coral the goblet of gold! + + "Below, at the foot of the precipice drear, + Spread the gloomy, and purple, and pathless Obscure! + A silence of Horror that slept on the ear, + That the eye more appall'd might the Horror endure! + Salamander--snake--dragon--vast reptiles that dwell + In the deep-coil'd about the grim jaws of their hell. + + "Dark-crawl'd--glided dark the unspeakable swarms, + Clump'd together in masses, misshapen and vast-- + Here clung and here bristled the fashionless forms-- + Here the dark-moving bulk of the Hammer-fish pass'd-- + And with teeth grinning white, and a menacing motion, + Went the terrible Shark--the Hyena of Ocean. + + "There I hung, and the awe gather'd icily o'er me, + So far from the earth, where man's help there was none! + The One Human Thing, with the Goblins before me-- + Alone--in a loneness so ghastly--ALONE! + Fathom-deep from man's eye in the speechless profound, + With the death of the Main and the Monsters around. + + "Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now + IT[8] saw--the dread hundred-limbed creature-its prey! + And darted--O God! from the far flaming-bough + Of the coral, I swept on the horrible way; + And it seized me, the wave with its wrath and its roar, + It seized me to save--King, the danger is o'er!" + + On the youth gazed the monarch, and marvel'd; quoth he, + "Bold Diver, the goblet I promised is thine, + And this ring will I give, a fresh guerdon to thee, + Never jewels more precious shone up from the mine, + If thou'lt bring me fresh tidings, and venture again + To tell what lies hid in the _innermost_ main?" + + Then outspake the daughter in tender emotion + "Ah! father, my father, what more can there rest? + Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean-- + He has served thee as none would, thyself has confest. + If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of desire, + Let thy knights put to shame the exploit of the squire!" + + The king seized the goblet--he swung it on high, + And whirling, it fell in the roar of the tide: + "But bring back that goblet again to my eye, + And I'll hold thee the dearest that rides by my side; + And thine arms shall embrace, as thy bride, I decree, + The maiden whose pity now pleadeth for thee." + + In his heart, as he listen'd, there leapt the wild joy-- + And the hope and the love through his eyes spoke in fire, + On that bloom, on that blush, gazed delighted the boy; + The maiden-she faints at the feet of her sire! + Here the guerdon divine, there the danger beneath; + He resolves! To the strife with the life and the death! + + They hear the loud surges sweep back in their swell, + Their coming the thunder-sound heralds along! + Fond eyes yet are tracking the spot where he fell: + They come, the wild waters, in tumult and throng, + Roaring up to the cliff--roaring back, as before, + But no wave ever brings the lost youth to the shore. + + * * * * + + + +THE CRANES OF IBYCUS (1797) + + + From Rhegium to the Isthmus, long + Hallow'd to steeds and glorious song, + Where, link'd awhile in holy peace, + Meet all the sons of martial Greece-- + Wends Ibycus-whose lips the sweet + And ever-young Apollo fires; + The staff supports the wanderer's feet-- + The God the Poet's soul inspires! + + Soon from the mountain-ridges high, + The tower-crown'd Corinth greets his eye; + In Neptune's groves of darksome pine, + He treads with shuddering awe divine; + Nought lives around him, save a swarm + Of CRANES, that still pursued his way. + Lured by the South, they wheel and form + In ominous groups their wild array. + + And "Hail! beloved Birds!" he cried; + "My comrades on the ocean tide, + Sure signs of good ye bode to me; + Our lots alike would seem to be; + From far, together borne, we greet + A shelter now from toil and danger; + And may the friendly hearts we meet + Preserve from every ill--the Stranger!" + + His step more light, his heart more gay, + Along the mid-wood winds his way, + When, where the path the thickets close, + Burst sudden forth two ruffian foes; + Now strife to strife, and foot to foot! + Ah! weary sinks the gentle hand; + The gentle hand that wakes the lute + Has learn'd no lore that guides the brand. + + He calls on men and Gods--in vain! + His cries no blest deliverer gain; + Feebler and fainter grows the sound, + And still the deaf life slumbers round-- + "In the far land I fall forsaken, + Unwept and unregarded, here; + By death from caitiff hands o'ertaken, + Nor ev'n one late avenger near!" + + Down to the earth the death-stroke bore him-- + Hark, where the Cranes wheel dismal o'er him! + He hears, as darkness veils his eyes, + Near, in hoarse croak, their dirge-like cries. + "Ye whose wild wings above me hover, + (Since never voice, save yours alone, + The deed can tell)--the hand discover-- + Avenge!"--He spoke, and life was gone. + + Naked and maim'd the corpse was found-- + And, still through many a mangling wound, + The sad Corinthian Host could trace + The loved--too well-remember'd face. + "And must I meet thee thus once more? + Who hoped with wreaths of holy pine, + Bright with new fame--the victory o'er-- + The Singer's temples to entwine!" + + And loud lamented every guest + Who held the Sea-God's solemn feast-- + As in a single heart prevailing, + Throughout all Hellas went the wailing. + Wild to the Council Hall they ran-- + In thunder rush'd the threat'ning Flood-- + "Revenge shall right the murder'd man, + The last atonement-blood for blood!" + + Yet 'mid the throng the Isthmus claims, + Lured by the Sea-God's glorious games-- + The mighty many-nation'd throng-- + How track the hand that wrought the wrong?-- + How guess if that dread deed were done, + By ruffian hands, or secret foes? + He who sees all on earth--the SUN-- + Alone the gloomy secret knows. + + Perchance he treads in careless peace, + Amidst your Sons, assembled Greece; + Hears with a smile revenge decreed; + Gloats with fell joy upon the deed. + His steps the avenging gods may mock + Within the very Temple's wall, + Or mingle with the crowds that flock + To yonder solemn scenic[9] hall. + + Wedg'd close, and serried, swarms the crowd-- + Beneath the weight the walls are bow'd-- + Thitherwards streaming far, and wide, + Broad Hellas flows in mingled tide tide-- + A tide like that which heaves the deep + When hollow-sounding, shoreward driven; + On, wave on wave, the thousands sweep + Till arching, row on row, to heaven! + + The tribes, the nations, who shall name, + That guest-like, there assembled came? + From Theseus' town, from Aulis' strand-- + From Phocis, from the Spartans' land-- + From Asia's wave-divided clime, + The Isles that gem the Ægean Sea, + To hearken on that Stage Sublime, + The Dark Choir's mournful melody! + + True to the awful rites of old, + In long and measured strides, behold + The Chorus from the hinder ground, + Pace the vast circle's solemn round. + So this World's women never strode-- + Their race from Mortals ne'er began; + Gigantic, from their grim abode, + They tower above the Sons of Man! + + Across their loins the dark robe clinging, + In fleshless hands the torches swinging, + Now to and fro, with dark red glow-- + No blood that lives the dead cheeks know! + Where flow the locks that woo to love + On _human_ temples--ghastly dwell + The serpents, coil'd the brow above, + And the green asps with poison swell. + + Thus circling, horrible, within + That space--doth their dark hymn begin, + And round the sinner as they go, + Cleave to the heart their words of woe. + Dismally wails, the senses chilling, + The hymn--the FURIES' solemn song; + And froze the very marrow thrilling + As roll'd the gloomy sounds along. + + And weal to him--from crime secure-- + Who keeps his soul as childhood's pure; + Life's path he roves, a wanderer free-- + We near him not-THE AVENGERS, WE, + But woe to him for whom we weave + The doom for deeds that shun the light: + Fast to the murderer's feet we cleave, + The fearful Daughters of the Night. + + "And deems he flight from us can hide him? + Still on dark wings We sail beside him! + The murderer's feet the snare enthralls-- + Or soon or late, to earth he falls! + Untiring, hounding on, we go; + For blood can no remorse atone I + On, ever--to the Shades below, + And there--we grasp him, still our own!" + + So singing, their slow dance they wreathe, + And stillness, like a silent death, + Heavily there lay cold and drear, + As if the Godhead's self were near. + Then, true to those strange rites of old, + Pacing the circle's solemn round, + In long and measured strides--behold, + They vanish in the hinder ground! + + Confused and doubtful--half between + The solemn truth and phantom scene, + The crowd revere the Power, presiding + O'er secret deeps, to justice guiding-- + The Unfathom'd and Inscrutable + By whom the web of doom is spun, + Whose shadows in the deep heart dwell, + Whose form is seen not in the sun! + + Just then, amidst the highest tier, + Breaks forth a voice that starts the ear; + "See there--see there, Timotheus, + Behold the Cranes of Ibycus!" + A sudden darkness wraps the sky; + Above the roofless building hover + Dusk, swarming wings; and heavily + Sweep the slow Cranes, hoarse-murmuring, over! + + "Of Ibycus?"--that name so dear + Thrills through the hearts of those who hear! + Like wave on wave in eager seas, + From mouth to mouth the murmur flees-- + "Of Ibycus, whom we bewail! + The murder'd one! What mean those words? + Who is the man--knows _he_ the tale? + Why link that name with those wild birds?" + + Questions on questions louder press-- + Like lightning flies the inspiring guess-- + Leaps every heart--"The truth we seize; + Your might is here, EUMENIDES! + The murderer yields himself confest-- + Vengeance is near--that voice the token-- + Ho!-him who yonder spoke, arrest! + And him to whom the words were spoken!" + + Scarce had the wretch the words let fall, + Than fain their sense he would recall + In vain; those whitening lips--behold! + The secret have already told. + Into their Judgment Court sublime + The Scene is changed;--their doom is seal'd! + Behold the dark unwitness'd Crime, + Struck by the lightning that reveal'd! + + * * * * * + + + +THE WORDS OF BELIEF (1797) + + + Three Words will I name thee--around and about, + From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; + But they had not their birth in the being without, + And the heart, not the lip, must their oracle be! + And all worth in the man shall for ever be o'er + When in those Three Words he believes no more. + + Man is made FREE!--Man, by birthright, is free, + Though the tyrant may deem him but born for his tool. + Whatever the shout of the rabble may be-- + Whatever the ranting misuse of the fool-- + Still fear not the Slave, when he breaks from his chain, + For the Man made a Freeman grows safe in his gain. + + And Virtue is more than a shade or a sound, + And Man may her voice, in this being, obey; + And though ever he slip on the stony ground, + Yet, ever again to the godlike way, + To the _science_ of Good though the Wise may be blind, + Yet the _practice_ is plain to the childlike mind. + + And a God there is--over Space, over Time; + While the Human Will rocks, like a reed, to and fro, + Lives the Will of the Holy--A Purpose Sublime, + A Thought woven over creation below; + Changing and shifting the All we inherit, + But changeless through all One Immutable Spirit! + + Hold fast the Three Words of Belief--though about + From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; + Yet they take not their birth from the being without-- + But a voice from within must their oracle be; + And never all worth in the Man can be o'er, + Till in those Three Words he believes no more. + + * * * * * + + + +THE WORDS OF ERROR (1799) + + + Three Errors there are, that for ever are found + On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; + But empty their meaning and hollow their sound-- + And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast. + + The fruits of existence escape from the clasp + Of the seeker who strives but those shadows to grasp-- + So long as Man dreams of some Age in _this_ life + When the Right and the Good will all evil subdue; + For the Right and the Good lead us ever to strife, + And wherever they lead us, the Fiend will pursue. + + And (till from the earth borne, and stifled at length) + The earth that he touches still gifts him with strength![10] + So long as Man fancies that Fortune will live, + Like a bride with her lover, united with Worth; + For her favors, alas! to the mean she will give-- + And Virtue possesses no title to earth! + That Foreigner wanders to regions afar, + Where the lands of her birthright immortally are! + + So long as Man dreams that, to mortals a gift, + The Truth in her fulness of splendor will shine; + The veil of the goddess no earth-born may lift, + And all we can learn is--to guess and divine I + Dost thou seek, in a dogma, to prison her form? + The spirit flies forth on the wings of the storm! + O, Noble Soul! fly from delusions like these, + More heavenly belief be it thine to adore; + Where the Ear never hearkens, the Eye never sees, + Meet the rivers of Beauty and Truth evermore! + Not _without_ thee the streams--there the Dull seek them;--No! + Look _within_ thee--behold both the fount and the flow! + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration: THE LAY OF THE BELL JULIUS BENEZUR] + +THE LAY OF THE BELL[11] (1799) + + + "_Vivos voco--Mortuos plango--Fulgura frango_." [12] + + I + + Fast in its prison-walls of earth, + Awaits the mold of bakèd clay. + Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- + THE BELL that shall be born today! + Who would honor obtain, + With the sweat and the pain, + The praise that Man gives to the Master must buy!-- + But the blessing withal must descend from on high! + And well an earnest word beseems + The work the earnest hand prepares; + Its load more light the labor deems, + When sweet discourse the labor shares. + So let us ponder--nor in vain-- + What strength can work when labor wills; + For who would not the fool disdain + Who ne'er designs what he fulfils? + And well it stamps our Human Race, + And hence the gift To UNDERSTAND, + That Man within the heart should trace + Whate'er he fashions with the hand. + + II + + From the fir the faggot take, + Keep it, heap it hard and dry, + That the gathered flame may break + Through the furnace, wroth and high. + When the copper within + Seethes and simmers--the tin + Pour quick, that the fluid that feeds the Bell + May flow in the right course glib and well. + Deep hid within this nether cell, + What force with Fire is molding thus + In yonder airy tower shall dwell, + And witness wide and far of us! + It shall, in later days, unfailing, + Rouse many an ear to rapt emotion; + Its solemn voice with Sorrow wailing, + Or choral chiming to Devotion. + Whatever Fate to Man may bring, + Whatever weal or woe befall, + That metal tongue shall backward ring + The warning moral drawn from all. + + III + + See the silvery bubbles spring! + Good! the mass is melting now! + Let the salts we duly bring + Purge the flood, and speed the flow. + From the dross and the scum, + Pure, the fusion must come; + For perfect and pure we the metal must keep, + That its voice may be perfect, and pure, and deep. + That voice, with merry music rife, + The cherished child shall welcome in, + What time the rosy dreams of life + In the first slumber's arms begin; + As yet in Time's dark womb unwarning, + Repose the days, or foul or fair, + And watchful o'er that golden morning, + The Mother-Love's untiring care! + And swift the years like arrows fly-- + No more with girls content to play, + Fast in its prison-walls of earth, + Awaits the mold of bakèd clay. + Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- + The BELL that shall be born to-day! + Bounds the proud Boy upon his way, + Storms through loud life's tumultuous pleasures, + With pilgrim staff the wide world measures; + And, wearied with the wish to roam, + Again seeks, stranger-like, the Father-Home. + And, lo, as some sweet vision breaks + Out from its native morning skies, + With rosy shame on downcast cheeks, + The Virgin stands before his eyes. + A nameless longing seizes him! + From all his wild companions flown; + Tears, strange till then, his eyes bedim; + He wanders all alone. + Blushing, he glides where'er she move; + Her greeting can transport him; + To every mead to deck his love, + The happy wild flowers court him! + Sweet Hope--and tender Longing--ye + The growth of Life's first Age of Gold, + When the heart, swelling, seems to see + The gates of heaven unfold! + O Love, the beautiful and brief! O prime, + Glory, and verdure, of life's summertime! + + IV + + Browning o'er, the pipes are simmering, + Dip this wand of clay[13] within; + If like glass the wand be glimmering, + Then the casting may begin. + Brisk, brisk now, and see + If the fusion flow free; + If--(happy and welcome indeed were the sign!) + If the hard and the ductile united combine. + For still where the strong is betrothed to the weak, + And the stern in sweet marriage is blent with the meek, + Rings the concord harmonious, both tender and strong: + So be it with thee, if forever united, + The heart to the heart flows in one, love-delighted; + Illusion is brief, but Repentance is long. + Lovely, thither are they bringing, + With her virgin wreath, the Bride! + To the love-feast clearly ringing, + Tolls the church-bell far and wide! + With that sweetest holyday, + Must the May of Life depart; + With the cestus loosed--away + Flies ILLUSION from the heart! + Yet love lingers lonely, + When Passion is mute, + And the blossoms may only + Give way to the fruit. + The Husband must enter + The hostile life; + With struggle and strife, + To plant or to watch, + To snare or to snatch, + To pray and importune, + Must wager and venture + And hunt down his fortune! + Then flows in a current the gear and the gain, + And the garners are filled with the gold of the grain, + Now a yard to the court, now a wing to the centre! + Within sits Another, + The thrifty Housewife; + The mild one, the mother-- + Her home is her life. + In its circle she rules, + And the daughters she schools, + And she cautions the boys, + With a bustling command, + And a diligent hand + Employed she employs; + Gives order to store, + And the much makes the more; + Locks the chest and the wardrobe, with lavender smelling, + And the hum of the spindle goes quick through the dwelling, + And she hoards in the presses, well polished and full, + The snow of the linen, the shine of the wool; + Blends the sweet with the good, and from care and endeavor + Rests never! + Blithe the Master (where the while + From his roof he sees them smile) + Eyes the lands, and counts the gain; + There, the beams projecting far, + And the laden store-house are, + And the granaries bowed beneath + The blessèd golden grain; + There, in undulating motion, + Wave the corn-fields like an ocean. + Proud the boast the proud lips breathe:-- + "My house is built upon a rock, + And sees unmoved the stormy shock + Of waves that fret below!" + What chain so strong, what girth so great, + To bind the giant form of Fate?-- + Swift are the steps of Woe. + + V + + Now the casting may begin; + See the breach indented there: + Ere we run the fusion in, + Halt--and speed the pious prayer! + Pull the bung out-- + See around and about + What vapor, what vapor--God help us!--has risen?-- + Ha! the flame like a torrent leaps forth from its prison! + What friend is like the might of fire + When man can watch and wield the ire? + Whate'er we shape or work, we owe + Still to that heaven-descended glow. + But dread the heaven-descended glow, + When from their chain its wild wings go, + When, where it listeth, wide and wild + Sweeps the Free Nature's free-born Child! + When the Frantic One fleets, + While no force can withstand, + Through the populous streets + Whirling ghastly the brand; + For the Element hates + What man's labor creates, + And the work of his hand! + Impartially out from the cloud, + Or the curse or the blessing may fall! + Benignantly out from the cloud, + Come the dews, the revivers of all! + Avengingly out from the cloud + Come the levin, the bolt, and the ball! + Hark--a wail from the steeple!--aloud + The bell shrills its voice to the crowd! + Look--look--red as blood + All on high! + It is not the daylight that fills with its flood + The sky! + What a clamor awaking + Roars up through the street! + What a hell-vapor breaking + Rolls on through the street! + And higher and higher + Aloft moves the Column of Fire! + Through the vistas and rows + Like a whirlwind it goes, + And the air like the steam from a furnace glows. + Beams are crackling--posts are shrinking-- + Walls are sinking--windows clinking + Children crying-- + Mothers flying-- + And the beast (the black ruin yet smoldering under) + Yells the howl of its pain and its ghastly wonder! + Hurry and skurry--away--away, + The face of the night is as clear as day! + As the links in a chain, + Again and again + Flies the bucket from hand to hand; + High in arches up-rushing + The engines are gushing, + And the flood, as a beast on the prey that it hounds, + With a roar on the breast of the element bounds. + To the grain and the fruits, + Through the rafters and beams, + Through the barns and the garners it crackles and streams! + As if they would rend up the earth from its roots, + Rush the flames to the sky + Giant-high; + And at length, + Wearied out and despairing, man bows to their strength! + With an idle gaze sees their wrath consume, + And submits to his doom! + Desolate + The place, and dread + For storms the barren bed! + In the blank voids that cheerful casements were, + Comes to and fro the melancholy air, + And sits despair; + And through the ruin, blackening in its shroud, + Peers, as it flits, the melancholy cloud. + One human glance of grief upon the grave + Of all that Fortune gave + The loiterer takes--then turns him to depart, + And grasps the wanderer's staff and mans his heart: + Whatever else the element bereaves + One blessing more than all it reft--it leaves + The face that he loves!--He counts them o'er, + See--not one look is missing from that store! + + VI + + Now clasped the bell within the clay-- + The mold the mingled metals fill-- + + Oh, may it, sparkling into day, + Reward the labor and the skill! + Alas! should it fail, + For the mold may be frail-- + And still with our hope must be mingled the fear-- + And, ev'n now, while we speak, the mishap may be near! + To the dark womb of sacred earth + This labor of our hands is given, + As seeds that wait the second birth, + And turn to blessings watched by heaven! + Ah seeds, how dearer far than they + We bury in the dismal tomb, + Where Hope and Sorrow bend to pray + That suns beyond the realm of day + May warm them into bloom! + From the steeple + Tolls the bell, + Deep and heavy, + The death-knell, + Guiding with dirge-note--solemn, sad, and slow, + To the last home earth's weary wanderers know. + It is that worshipped wife-- + It is that faithful mother![14] + Whom the dark Prince of Shadows leads benighted, + From that dear arm where oft she hung delighted. + Far from those blithe companions, born + Of her, and blooming in their morn; + On whom, when couched her heart above, + So often looked the Mother-Love! + Ah! rent the sweet Home's union-band, + And never, never more to come-- + She dwells within the shadowy land, + Who was the Mother of that Home! + How oft they miss that tender guide, + The care--the watch--the face--the MOTHER-- + And where she sate the babes beside, + Sits with unloving looks--ANOTHER! + + VII + + While the mass is cooling now, + Let the labor yield to leisure, + As the bird upon the bough, + Loose the travail to the pleasure. + When the soft stars awaken! + Each task be forsaken! + And the vesper-bell, lulling the earth into peace, + If the master still toil, chimes the workman's release! + Homeward from the tasks of day, + Through the greenwood's welcome way + Wends the wanderer, blithe and cheerily, + To the cottage loved so dearly! + And the eye and ear are meeting, + Now, the slow sheep homeward bleating; + Now, the wonted shelter near, + Lowing the lusty-fronted steer + Creaking now the heavy wain, + Reels with the happy harvest grain; + While, with many-colored leaves, + Glitters the garland on the sheaves; + For the mower's work is done, + And the young folks' dance begun! + Desert street, and quiet mart;-- + Silence is in the city's heart; + And the social taper lighteth + Each dear face that HOME uniteth; + While the gate the town before + Heavily swings with sullen roar! + Though darkness is spreading + O'er earth--the Upright + And the Honest, undreading, + Look safe on the night + Which the evil man watches in awe, + For the eye of the Night is the Law! + Bliss-dowered! O daughter of the skies, + Hail, holy ORDER, whose employ + Blends like to like in light and joy-- + Builder of cities, who of old + Called the wild man from waste and wold, + And, in his but thy presence stealing, + Roused each familiar household feeling, + And, best of all, the happy ties, + The centre of the social band-- + _The Instinct of the Fatherland!_ + United thus--each helping each, + Brisk work the countless hands forever; + For naught its power to Strength can teach, + Like Emulation and Endeavor! + Thus linked the master with the man, + Each in his rights can each revere, + And while they march in freedom's van, + Scorn the lewd rout that dogs the rear! + To freemen labor is renown! + Who works--gives blessings and commands; + Kings glory in the orb and crown-- + Be ours the glory of our hands, + Long in these walls--long may we greet + Your footfalls, Peace and Concord sweet! + Distant the day, oh! distant far, + When the rude hordes of trampling War + Shall scare the silent vale-- + The where + Now the sweet heaven, when day doth leave + The air, + Limns its soft rose-hues on the veil of Eve-- + Shall the fierce war-brand, tossing in the gale, + From town and hamlet shake the horrent glare! + + VIII + + Now, its destined task fulfilled, + Asunder break the prison-mold; + Let the goodly Bell we build, + Eye and heart alike behold. + The hammer down heave, + Till the cover it cleave:-- + For not till we shatter the wall of its cell + Can we lift from its darkness and bondage the Bell. + To break the mold the master may, + If skilled the hand and ripe the hour; + But woe, when on its fiery way + The metal seeks itself to pour, + Frantic and blind, with thunder-knell, + Exploding from its shattered home, + And glaring forth, as from a hell, + Behold the red Destruction come! + When rages strength that has no reason, + There breaks the mold before the season; + When numbers burst what bound before, + Woe to the State that thrives no more! + Yea, woe, when in the City's heart, + The latent spark to flame is blown, + "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood + And Millions from their silence start, + To claim, without a guide, their own! + Discordant howls the warning Bell, + Proclaiming discord wide and far, + And, born but things of peace to tell, + Becomes the ghastliest voice of war: + "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood + Rush the roused people at the sound! + Through street, hall, palace, roars the flood, + And banded murder closes round! + The hyena-shapes (that women were!) + Jest with the horrors they survey; + They hound--they rend--they mangle there, + As panthers with their prey! + Naught rests to hallow--burst the ties + Of life's sublime and reverent awe; + Before the Vice the Virtue flies, + And Universal Crime is Law! + Man fears the lion's kingly tread; + Man fears the tiger's fangs of terror; + And still, the dreadliest of the dread, + Is Man himself in error! + No torch, though lit from Heaven, illumes + The Blind!--Why place it in his hands? + It lights not him--it but consumes + The City and the Land! + + IX + + Rejoice and laud the prospering skies! + The kernel bursts its husks--behold + From the dull clay the metal rise, + Pure-shining, as a star of gold! + Neck and lip, but as one beam, + It laughs like a sunbeam. + And even the scutcheon, clear-graven, shall tell + That the art of a master has fashioned the Bell! + Come in--come in, + My merry men--we'll form a ring + The new-born labor christening; + And "CONCORD" we will name her! + To union may her heart-felt call + In brother-love attune us all! + May she the destined glory win + For which the master sought to frame her-- + Aloft--(all earth's existence under) + In blue-pavilioned heaven afar + To dwell--the Neighbor of the Thunder, + The borderer of the Star! + Be hers above a voice to raise + Like those bright hosts in yonder sphere, + Who, while they move, their Maker praise, + And lead around the wreathèd year! + To solemn and eternal things + We dedicate her lips sublime, + As hourly, calmly, on she swings, + Fanned by the fleeting wings of Time! + No pulse--no heart--no feeling hers! + She lends the warning voice to Fate; + And still companions, while she stirs, + The changes of the Human State! + So may she teach us, as her tone + But now so mighty, melts away-- + That earth no life which earth has known + From the last silence can delay! + Slowly now the cords upheave her! + From her earth-grave soars the Bell; + 'Mid the airs of Heaven we leave her! + In the Music-Realm to dwell! + Up--upwards--yet raise-- + She has risen--she sways. + Fair Bell to our city bode joy and increase, + And oh, may thy first sound be hallowed to--PEACE.[15] + + * * * * * + + + +THE GERMAN ART (1800) + + + By no kind Augustus reared, + To no Medici endeared, + German Art arose; + Fostering glory smil'd not on her, + Ne'er with kingly smiles to sun her, + Did her blooms unclose. + + No! She went, by Monarchs slighted + Went unhonored, unrequited, + From high Frederick's throne; + Praise and Pride be all the greater, + That Man's genius did create her, + From Man's worth alone. + + Therefore, all from loftier mountains, + Purer wells and richer Fountains, + Streams our Poet-Art; + So no rule to curb its rushing-- + All the fuller flows it gushing + From its deep--The Heart! + + * * * * * + + + +COMMENCEMENT OF THE NEW CENTURY (1801) + + + Where can Peace find a refuge? Whither, say, + Can Freedom turn? Lo, friend, before our view + The CENTURY rends itself in storm away, + And, red with slaughter, dawns on earth the New! + The girdle of the lands is loosen'd[16]--hurl'd + To dust the forms old Custom deem'd divine,-- + Safe from War's fury not the watery world;-- + Safe not the Nile-God nor the antique Rhine. + Two mighty nations make the world their field, + Deeming the world is for their heirloom given-- + Against the freedom of all lands they wield + This--Neptune's trident; that--the Thund'rer's levin + Gold to their scales each region must afford; + And, as fierce Brennus in Gaul's early tale, + The Frank casts in the iron of his sword, + To poise the balance, where the right may fail-- + Like some huge Polypus, with arms that roam + Outstretch'd for prey--the Briton spreads his reign; + And, as the Ocean were his household home, + Locks up the chambers of the liberal main. + On to the Pole where shines, unseen, the Star, + Onward his restless course unbounded flies; + Tracks every isle and every coast afar, + And undiscover'd leaves but--Paradise! + Alas, in vain on earth's wide chart, I ween, + Thou seek'st that holy realm beneath the sky-- + Where Freedom dwells in gardens ever green-- + And blooms the Youth of fair Humanity! + O'er shores where sail ne'er rustled to the wind, + O'er the vast universe, may rove thy ken; + But in the universe thou canst not find + A space sufficing for ten happy men! + In the heart's holy stillness only beams + The shrine of refuge from life's stormy throng; + Freedom is only in the land of Dreams; + And only blooms the Beautiful in Song! + + * * * * * + + + +CASSANDRA (1802) + + +[There is peace between the Greeks and Trojans--Achilles is to wed +Polyxena, Priam's daughter. On entering the Temple, he is shot through +his only vulnerable part by Paris.--The time of the following Poem is +during the joyous preparations for the marriage.] + + And mirth was in the halls of Troy, + Before her towers and temples fell; + High peal'd the choral hymns of joy, + Melodious to the golden shell. + The weary had reposed from slaughter-- + The eye forgot the tear it shed; + This day King Priam's lovely daughter + Shall great Pelides wed! + + Adorn'd with laurel boughs, they come, + Crowd after crowd--the way divine, + Where fanes are deck'd--for gods the home-- + And to the Thymbrian's[17] solemn shrine. + The wild Bacchantic joy is madd'ning + The thoughtless host, the fearless guest; + And there, the unheeded heart is sadd'ning + _One_ solitary breast! + + Unjoyous in the joyful throng, + Alone, and linking life with none, + Apollo's laurel groves among + The still Cassandra wander'd on! + Into the forest's deep recesses + The solemn Prophet-Maiden pass'd, + And, scornful, from her loosen'd tresses, + The sacred fillet cast! + + "To all its arms doth Mirth unfold, + And every heart foregoes its cares; + And Hope is busy in the old; + The bridal-robe my sister wears. + But I alone, alone am weeping; + The sweet delusion mocks not me-- + Around these walls destruction sweeping + More near and near I see! + + "A torch before my vision glows, + But not in Hymen's hand it shines; + A flame that to the welkin goes, + But not from holy offering-shrines; + Glad hands the banquet are preparing, + And near, and near the halls of state + I hear the God that comes unsparing; + I hear the steps of Fate. + + "And men my prophet-wail deride! + The solemn sorrow dies in scorn; + And lonely in the waste, I hide + The tortured heart that would forewarn. + Amidst the happy, unregarded, + Mock'd by their fearful joy, I trod; + Oh, dark to me the lot awarded, + Thou evil Pythian god! + + "Thine oracle, in vain to be, + Oh, wherefore am I thus consign'd + With eyes that every truth must see, + Lone in the City of the Blind? + Cursed with the anguish of a power + To view the fates I may not thrall, + The hovering tempest still must lower-- + The horror must befall! + + "Boots it the veil to lift, and give + To sight the frowning fates beneath? + For error is the life we live, + And, oh, our knowledge is but death! + Take back the clear and awful mirror, + Shut from mine eyes the blood-red glare + Thy truth is but a gift of terror + When mortal lips declare. + + "My blindness give to me once more[18]-- + The gay dim senses that rejoice; + The Past's delighted songs are o'er + For lips that speak a Prophet's voice. + To me _the future_ thou hast granted; + I miss _the moment_ from the chain-- + The happy Present-Hour enchanted! + Take back thy gift again! + + "Never for me the nuptial wreath + The odor-breathing hair shall twine; + My heavy heart is bow'd beneath + The service of thy dreary shrine. + My youth was but by tears corroded,-- + My sole familiar is my pain, + Each coming ill my heart foreboded, + And felt it first--in vain! + + "How cheer'ly sports the careless mirth-- + The life that loves, around I see; + Fair youth to pleasant thoughts give birth-- + The heart is only sad to me. + Not for mine eyes the young spring gloweth, + When earth her happy feast-day keeps; + The charm of life who ever knoweth + That looks into the deeps? + + "Wrapt in thy bliss, my sister, thine + The heart's inebriate rapture-springs;-- + Longing with bridal arms to twine + The bravest of the Grecian kings. + High swells the joyous bosom, seeming + Too narrow for its world of love, + Nor envies, in its heaven of dreaming, + The heaven of gods above! + + "I too might know the soft control + Of one the longing heart could choose, + With look which love illumes with soul-- + The look that supplicates and woos. + And sweet with him, where love presiding + Prepares our hearth, to go--but, dim, + A Stygian shadow, nightly gliding, + Stalks between me and him! + + "Forth from the grim funereal shore, + The Hell-Queen sends her ghastly bands; + Where'er I turn--behind--before-- + Dumb in my path--a Spectre stands! + Wherever gayliest, youth assembles-- + I see the shades in horror clad, + Amidst Hell's ghastly People trembles + One soul for ever sad! + + "I see the steel of Murder gleam-- + I see the Murderer's glowing eyes-- + To right--to left, one gory stream-- + One circling fate--my flight defies! + I may not turn my gaze--all seeing, + Foreknowing all, I dumbly stand-- + To close in blood my ghastly being + In the far strangers' land!" + + Hark! while the sad sounds murmur round, + Hark, from the Temple-porch, the cries!-- + A wild, confused, tumultuous sound!-- + Dead the divine Pelides lies! + Grim Discord rears her snakes devouring-- + The last departing god hath gone! + And, womb'd in cloud, the thunder, lowering, + Hangs black on Ilion. + +[Illustration: CASSANDRA Ferdinand Keller] + + * * * * * + + + +RUDOLPH OF HAPSBURG (1803) + +A BALLAD + + +[Hinrichs properly classes this striking ballad (together with the yet +grander one of the "Fight with the Dragon") amongst those designed to +depict and exalt the virtue of Humility. The source of the story is in +Ægidius Tschudi, a Swiss chronicler; and Schiller appears to have +adhered, with much fidelity, to the original narrative.] + + At Aachen, in imperial state, + In that time-hallow'd hall renown'd, + At solemn feast King Rudolf sate, + The day that saw the hero crown'd! + Bohemia and thy Palgrave, Rhine, + Give this the feast, and that the wine;[19] + The Arch Electoral Seven, + Like choral stars around the sun, + Gird him whose hand a world has won, + The anointed choice of Heaven. + + In galleries raised above the pomp, + Press'd crowd on crowd their panting way, + And with the joy-resounding tromp, + Rang out the millions' loud hurra! + For, closed at last the age of slaughter, + When human blood was pour'd as water-- + LAW dawns upon the world![20] + Sharp force no more shall right the wrong, + And grind the weak to crown the strong-- + War's carnage-flag is furl'd! + + In Rudolf's hand the goblet shines-- + And gaily round the board look'd he; + "And proud the feast, and bright the wines + My kingly heart feels glad to me! + Yet where the Gladness-Bringer--blest + In the sweet art which moves the breast + With lyre and verse divine? + Dear from my youth the craft of song, + And what as knight I loved so long, + As Kaiser, still be mine." + + Lo, from the circle bending there, + With sweeping robe the Bard appears, + As silver white his gleaming hair, + Bleach'd by the many winds of years; + "And music sleeps in golden strings-- + Love's rich reward the minstrel sings, + Well known to him the ALL + High thoughts and ardent souls desire! + What would the Kaiser from the lyre + Amidst the banquet-hall?" + + The Great One smiled--"Not mine the sway-- + The minstrel owns a loftier power-- + A mightier king inspires the lay-- + Its hest--THE IMPULSE OF THE HOUR!" + As through wide air the tempests sweep, + As gush the springs from mystic deep, + Or lone untrodden glen; + So from dark hidden fount within + Comes SONG, its own wild world to win + Amidst the souls of men! + + Swift with the fire the minstrel glow'd, + And loud the music swept the ear:-- + "Forth to the chase a Hero rode, + To hunt the bounding chamois-deer; + With shaft and horn the squire behind;-- + Through greensward meads the riders wind-- + A small sweet bell they hear. + Lo, with the HOST, a holy man-- + Before him strides the sacristan, + And the bell sounds near and near. + + "The noble hunter down-inclined + His reverent head and soften'd eye, + And honor'd with a Christian's mind + The Christ who loves humility! + Loud through the pasture, brawls and raves + A brook--the rains had fed the waves, + And torrents from the bill. + His sandal-shoon the priest unbound, + And laid the Host upon the ground, + And near'd the swollen rill! + + "What wouldst thou, priest?" the Count began, + As, marveling much, he halted there, + "Sir Count, I seek a dying man, + Sore-hungering for the heavenly fare. + The bridge that once its safety gave, + Rent by the anger of the wave, + Drifts down the tide below. + Yet barefoot now, I will not fear + (The soul that seeks its God, to cheer) + Through the wild wave to go!" + + "He gave that priest the knightly steed, + He reach'd that priest the lordly reins, + That he might serve the sick man's need, + Nor slight the task that heaven ordains. + He took the horse the squire bestrode; + On to the sick, the priest! + And when the morrow's sun was red, + The servant of the Savior led + Back to its lord the beast. + + "'Now Heaven forfend!' the Hero cried, + 'That e'er to chase or battle more + These limbs the sacred steed bestride + That once my Maker's image bore; + If not a boon allow'd to thee, + Thy Lord and mine its Master be, + My tribute to the King, + From whom I hold, as fiefs, since birth, + Honor, renown, the goods of earth, + Life and each living thing!" + + "'So may the God, who faileth never + To hear the weak and guide the dim, + To thee give honor here and ever, + As thou hast duly honor'd Him!' + Far-famed ev'n now through Swisserland + Thy generous heart and dauntless hand; + And fair from thine embrace + Six daughters bloom,[21] six crowns to bring, + Blest as the daughters of a KING, + The mothers of a RACE!" + + The mighty Kaiser heard amazed! + His heart was in the days of old; + Into the minstrel's heart he gazed, + That tale the Kaiser's own had told. + Yes, in the bard the priest he knew, + And in the purple veil'd from view + The gush of holy tears! + A thrill through that vast audience ran, + And every heart the godlike man + Revering God--reveres! + +[Illustration: THE COUNT GIVES UP HIS HORSE TO THE PRIEST Alexander +Wagner] + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 3: Though the Ideal images of youth forsake us, the Ideal +itself still remains to the Poet. It is his task and his companion, +for, unlike the Phantasies of Fortune, Fame, and Love, the Phantasies +of the Ideal are imperishable. While, as the occupation of life, it +pays off the debt of Time, as the exalter of life it contributes to +the Building of Eternity.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 4: "Die Gesalt"--Form. the Platonic Archetype.] + +[Footnote 5: This idea is often repeated, somewhat more clearly in the +haughty philosophy of Schiller. He himself says, elsewhere--"In a fair +soul each single action is not properly moral, but the whole character +is moral. The fair soul has no other service than the instincts of its +own beauty."--Translator] + +[Footnote 6: "Und es wallet, and siedet, und brauset, and zischt," +etc. Goethe was particularly struck with the truthfulness of these +lines, of which his personal observation at the Falls of the Rhine +enabled him to judge. Schiller modestly owns his obligations to +Homer's descriptions of Charybdis, Odyss. I., 12. The property of the +higher order of imagination to reflect truth, though not familiar to +experience, is singularly illustrated in this description. Schiller +had never seen even a Waterfall.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 7: The same rhyme as the preceding line in the original.] + +[Footnote 8: "--da kroch's heran," etc. The _It_ in the original has +been greatly admired. The poet thus vaguely represents the fabulous +misshapen monster, the Polypus of the ancients.] + +[Footnote 9: The theatre.] + +[Footnote 10: This simile is nobly conceived, but expressed somewhat +obscurely. As Hercules contended in vain against Antæus, the Son of +Earth,--so long as the Earth gave her giant offspring new strength in +every fall,--so the soul contends in vain with evil--the natural +earth-born enemy, while the very contact of the earth invigorates the +enemy for the struggle. And as Antæus was slain at last, when Hercules +lifted him from the earth and strangled him while raised aloft, so can +the soul slay the enemy (the desire, the passion, the evil, the +earth's offspring), when bearing it from earth itself and stifling it +in the higher air.--Translator.] + +[Footnote 11: Translated by Edward, Lord Lytton (Permission George +Routledge & Sons.)] + +[Footnote 12: "I call the Living--I mourn the Dead--I break the +Lightning." These words are inscribed on the Great Bell of the Minster +of Schaffhausen--also on that of the Church of Art near Lucerne. There +was an old belief in Switzerland that the undulation of air, caused by +the sound of a Bell, broke the electric fluid of a thunder-cloud.] + +[Footnote 13: A piece of clay pipe, which becomes vitrified if the +metal is sufficiently heated.] + +[Footnote 14: The translator adheres to the original, in forsaking the +rhyme in these lines and some others.] + +[Footnote 15: Written in the time of the French war.] + +[Footnote 16: That is--the settled political question--the balance of +power.] + +[Footnote 17: Apollo.] + +[Footnote 18: "Everywhere," says Hoffmeister truly, "Schiller exalts +Ideal Belief over real wisdom;--everywhere this modern Apostle of +Christianity advocates that Ideal, which exists in Faith and emotion, +against the wisdom of worldly intellect, the barren experience of +life," etc.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 19: The office, at the coronation feast, of the Count +Palatine of the Rhine (Grand Sewer of the Empire and one of the Seven +Electors) was to bear the Imperial Globe and set the dishes on the +board; that of the King of Bohemia was cup-bearer. The latter was not, +however, present, as Schiller himself observed in a note (omitted in +the editions of his collected works), at the coronation of Rudolf.] + +[Footnote 20: Literally, "_A. judge (ein Richter_) was again upon the +earth." The word substituted in the translation is introduced in order +to recall to the reader the sublime name given, not without justice, +to Rudolf of Hapsburg, viz., "THE LIVING LAW."--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 21: At the coronation of Rudolf was celebrated the +marriage-feast of three of his daughters--to Ludwig of Bavaria, Otto +of Brandenburg, and Albrecht of Saxony. His other three daughters +married afterward Otto, nephew of Ludwig of Bavaria, Charles Martell, +son of Charles of Anjou, and Wenceslaus, son of Ottocar of Bohemia. +The royal house of England numbers Rudolf of Hapsburg amongst its +ancestors.--TRANSLATOR.] + + * * * * * + + + + +DRAMAS + + + +INTRODUCTION TO WALLENSTEIN'S DEATH + +By WILLIAM H. CARRUTH, PH.D. + +Professor of Comparative Literature, Leland Stanford University + + +Schiller wrote in rapid succession, during his Storm and Stress +period, _The Robbers, Fiesco, Cabal and Love_, and the beginning of +_Don Carlos_ (finished in 1787). Between this time and his last +period, which opens with _Wallenstein_, he devoted himself assiduously +to the study of philosophy, history, and esthetic theory. Even in +writing _Don Carlos_ he had felt that he needed to give more care to +artistic form and to the deeper questions of dramatic unity. His own +dissatisfaction with the results achieved was one of several reasons +why for nearly ten years he dropped dramatic composition. He felt, +too, that he needed more experience of life. He himself said of the +greatest of his Storm and Stress dramas that he had attempted to +portray humanity before he really knew humanity. + +In 1788 he published the first part of his _History of the Rebellion +of the Netherlands_, which brought him the appointment to the chair of +history in the University of Jena. The occupation with his next +historical work, the _History of the Thirty Years' War_, suggested to +him the thought of dramatizing the career of Wallenstein. But he was +not yet clear with himself on questions of artistic method. He was +studying Homer and dramatizing Euripides, lecturing and writing on +dramatic theory. Further delays were due to marriage and to serious +illness. It was not until 1796 that Schiller felt ready to begin work +on the long planned drama of _Wallenstein_. + +The first scenes were written in prose, but soon the poet realized +that only the dignified heroic verse was suited to his theme. Then +"all went better." Constant discussions with Goethe and Christian +Gottfried Koerner helped him to clear up his doubts and overcome the +difficulties of his subject. He found that history left too little +room for sympathy with Wallenstein, for he conceived him as really +guilty of treason. He decided early to lighten the gloom of his theme +by introducing the love episode of Max and Thekla. He modified also +his view of the nature of Wallenstein's guilt. Gradually the material +grew upon him. What he had planned as a Prologue became the one-act +play, _Wallenstein's Camp_, which, when it was produced in October, +1798, at the reopening of the Weimar Theatre, was preceded by 138 +lines of Dedication, since printed as the _Prologue_. Already Schiller +had foreseen the development into more than five acts, and accordingly +_The Piccolomini_ appeared separately, January 30, 1799, and the whole +series in order about the middle of April, upon the completion of +_Wallenstein's Death_. + +_Wallenstein_ is a trilogy, but in name rather than in real connection +and relation of parts. _Wallenstein's Camp_ is a picture of masses, +introducing only common soldiers and none of the chief personages of +the other parts of the composition. Its purpose is to present +something of the tremendous background of the action proper and to +give a realizing sense of the influence upon Wallenstein's career of +the soldiery with which he operated--as Schiller expressed it in a +line of his Prologue: "His camp alone explains to us his crime." By +this he meant that, on the one hand, the blind confidence of the +troops in the luck and the destiny of their leader made him arrogant +and reckless, and, on the other hand, perhaps, that the mercenary +character of these soldiers of fortune forced Wallenstein to steps +which his calm judgment would have condemned. + +In a succession of eleven scenes of very unequal length the various +arms of the service are introduced, together with camp followers and a +Capuchin preacher; in reminiscences the earlier features of the great +war and some feats of the general are recalled; in discussions the +character of Wallenstein and of his leading officers is sketched; +finally the report of the recent demand of the Emperor, that +Wallenstein detach 8,000 men to escort the Cardinal Infant to the +Netherlands, reveals the opposition of the army to such an order and +its unconditional loyalty to Wallenstein. + +The second and third parts of the trilogy, _The Piccolomini_ and +_Wallenstein's Death_, constitute, in fact, one ten-act play, which +requires two evenings for presentation. So slight is the organic +division between the two plays that, as first presented, in the fall +of 1798 and the spring of 1799, _The Piccolomini_ included the first +two acts of _Wallenstein's Death_ as later printed and here given, +while the last three acts were so divided as to constitute five. + +_The Piccolomini_, which could not be reprinted in this anthology, +presents essentially what is called the "exposition" of the entire +drama, together with a _part_ of the complication of the plot. +Questenberg, the imperial commissioner, visits Wallenstein's +headquarters in Pilsen to present the order of the Emperor for the +detachment of eight regiments of Wallenstein's best cavalry to serve +as escort to the Cardinal Infant on his way to the Netherlands. He +meets distrust and almost incredible defiance from Wallenstein's +officers, excepting Octavio Piccolomini, one of the oldest and most +trusted, to whom he brings secret dispatches directing him to +supersede Wallenstein in case of the latter's open rebellion, which +the court believes he has already determined upon. Wallenstein himself +meets the demands with a reproachful reference to the violation of the +plenary powers intrusted to him by the Emperor as the condition of his +assuming the command, but announces that he will relieve him from +embarrassment by resigning. This announcement is received with a storm +of protests from his officers. Questenberg and Octavio are deeply +concerned to make sure of the adherence to their cause of Octavio's +son, Max, a child of the camp and an especial favorite with +Wallenstein. Max has just arrived at Pilsen as escort of Wallenstein's +wife and of his daughter Thekla, to whom he has lost his heart. +Wallenstein and his masterful sister, Countess Terzky, are also eager +to secure Max to their side in the coming conflict, and the Countess +tries to persuade Thekla to govern her actions accordingly. Thekla, +however, is nobly frank with Max and warns him to trust only his own +heart; for she realizes that the threads of a dark plot are drawing +close about herself and Max, though she does not clearly understand +what it is. Meanwhile Terzky and Illo have planned a meeting of +Wallenstein's officers to protest against his withdrawal. In a +splendid banquet scene they present a written agreement (Revers) to +stand by the general _so far as loyalty to the Emperor will permit_, +and then, when all are heated with wine, secure signatures to a +substituted document from which this reservation of loyalty to the +Emperor is omitted. It is the hope of Illo and Terzky, through the +sight of this document, to persuade Wallenstein to open rebellion. Max +Piccolomini, coming late to the banquet from the interview with +Thekla, refuses to sign the pledge, not because he sees through the +deception, but because he is in no mood for business. Before morning +his father summons him, thinking Max has refused to sign because he +scented the intended treason, and reveals to him the whole +situation--the plots of the officers, Wallenstein's dangerous +negotiations with enemies of the Emperor, and his own commission to +take command and save whatever he can of loyal troops. Max is +thunder-truck. He can believe neither Wallenstein's purpose of +treason nor his father's duplicity in dealing behind the back of his +great commander. He refuses to follow his father's orders and leaves +him with the avowed intention of going to Wallenstein and calling upon +him to clear himself of the calumnious charges of the court. At this +point begins the action of _Wallenstein's Death_. + +In all of his later dramas excepting _William Tell_, Schiller +endeavored to introduce a factor which is called "the dramatic guilt," +a circumstance, usually in the character of the hero but sometimes in +his environment, which makes the tragic outcome inevitable and yet +leaves room in the breast of the reader or spectator for sympathy with +the hero in his fate. In the case of Wallenstein this "guilt" is the +dalliance with the love of power and the possibility of rebellion, not +a deliberate intention to commit treason. In the close of his +treatment of Wallenstein in The Thirty Years' War Schiller says: "No +one of his actions justifies us in considering him convicted of +treason. * * * Thus Wallenstein fell, not because he was a rebel, but +he rebelled because he fell." + +The circumstances are urged that Wallenstein was a prince of the +Empire, and had as such the right to negotiate with foreign powers; +that his delegated authority from the Emperor gave him the right to do +so in the Emperor's name; that the Emperor had not kept faith with +Wallenstein, and had thus justified him in at least frightening the +court; that self preservation seemed to indicate rebellion as the only +recourse; that Wallenstein's belief in his destiny and the fatuous +devotion of his army led him to reckless action; and finally that he +did not originally intend to commit actual treason. + +Thus prepared, the reader can easily sympathize with Wallenstein in +his downfall; this sympathy is entirely won by the admirable courage +with which Wallenstein bears the successive blows of fate, and it is +strengthened by consideration of the mean motives of the men who serve +as the tools of his execution, and by the remembrance that the fate of +Max and Thekla is bound up in his. Schiller was concerned lest the +love episode should detract from the interest due the chief persons +of the tragedy; his art has effected the exact opposite. + +The influence of Shakespeare is more or less obvious in all of +Schiller's later dramas. Aside from the splendid rhetoric of the +monologues, the character of Countess Terzky, so similar to that of +Lady Macheth, suggests this. But such influence is not so controlling +as to be in any respect a reproach to Schiller. Goethe in his generous +admiration considered Wallenstein "so great that nothing could be +compared with it." "In the imaginative power whereby history is made +into drama, in the triumph of artistic genius over a vast and +refractory mass of material, and in the skill with which the character +of the hero is conceived and denoted, _Wallenstein_ is unrivaled. Its +chief figure is by far the stateliest and most impressive of German +tragic heroes." [22] + + * * * * * + + + +THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN + + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + +WALLENSTEIN, _Duke of Friedland, +Generalissimo of the Imperial +Forces in the Thirty Years' War_. + +DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND, _Wife of +Wallenstein_. + +THEKLA, _her Daughter, Princess of +Friedland_. + +_The_ COUNTESS TERZKY, _Sister of the +Duchess_. + +LADY NEUBRUNN. + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, _Lieutenant-General_. + +MAX PICCOLOMINI, _his son, Colonel +of a regiment of Cuirassiers_. + +COUNT TERZKY, _the Commander of +several Regiments, and Brother-in-law +of Wallenstein_. + +ILLO, _Field Marshall, Wallenstein's +Confident_. + +ISOLANI, _General of the Croats_. + +BUTLER, _an Irishman, Commander +of a regiment of Dragoons_. + +GORDON, _Governor Egra_. + +MAJOR GERALDIN. + +CAPTAIN DEVEREUX. + +CAPTAIN MACDONALD. + +AN ADJUTANT. + +NEUMANN, _Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp +to Terzky_. + +COLONEL WRANGEL, _Envoy from the +Swedes_. + +ROSENBURG, _Master of Horse_. + +SWEDISH CAPTAIN. + +SENI. + +BURGOMASTER _of Egra_. + +ANSPESSADE _of the Cuirassiers_. + + +GROOM OF THE} _Belonging to_ +CHAMBER, } _the Duke_. +A PAGE, } + +_Cuirassiers, Dragoons, Servants_. + + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN AND SENI As performed at the +Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + + +THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN (1800)[23] + +TRANSLATED BY S.T. COLERIDGE + + + +ACT I + + +SCENE I + + +A Room fitted up for astrological labors, and provided with +celestial Charts, with Globes, Telescopes, Quadrants, and other +mathematical Instruments--Seven Colossal Figures, representing +the Planets, each circle in the background, so that Mars and +Saturn are nearest the eye.--The remainder of the Scene, and its +disposition, is given in the Fourth Scene of the Second +Act.--There must be a Curtain over the Figures, which may be +dropped, and conceal them on occasion. + +[_In the Fifth Scene of this Act it must be dropped; but in the +Seventh Scene it must be again drawn up wholly or in part._] + +WALLENSTEIN _at a black Table, on which a Speculum Astrologicum +is described with Chalk_. SENI _is taking Observations through a +window_. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +All well--and now let it be ended, Seni. Come, +The dawn commences, and Mars rules the hour. +We must give o'er the operation. Come, +We know enough. + +SENI. + + Your Highness must permit me +Just to contemplate Venus. She's now rising; +Like as a sun, so shines she in the east. + +WALLENST. + +She is at present in her perigee, +And now shoots down her strongest influences. + + [_Contemplating the figure on the table._] + +Auspicious aspect! fateful in conjunction, +At length the mighty three corradiate; +And the two stars of blessing, Jupiter +And Venus, take between them the malignant +Slily-malicious Mars, and thus compel +Into _my_ service that old mischief-founder: +For long he viewed me hostilely, and ever +With beam oblique, or perpendicular, +Now in the Quartile, now in the Secundan, +Shot his red lightnings at my stars, disturbing +Their blessed influences and sweet aspects. +Now they have conquer'd the old enemy, +And bring him in the heavens a prisoner to me. + +SENI (_who has come down from the window_). + +And in a corner house, your Highness--think of that! +That makes each influence of double strength. + +WALLENST. + +And sun and moon, too, in the Sextile aspect, +The soft light with the vehement--so I love it; +SOL is the heart, LUNA the head of heaven; +Bold be the plan, fiery the execution. + +SENI. + +And both the mighty Lumina by no +Maleficus _affronted_. Lo! Saturnus, +Innocuous, powerless, _in cadente Domo_. + +WALLENST. + +The empire of Saturnus is gone by; +Lord of the secret birth of things is he +Within the lap of earth, and in the depths +Of the imagination dominates; +And his are all things that eschew the light. +The time is o'er of brooding and contrivance, +For Jupiter, the lustrous, lordeth now, +And the dark work, complete of preparation, +He draws by force into the realm of light. +Now must we hasten on to action, ere +The scheme and most auspicious positure +Parts o'er my head, and takes once more its flight, +For the heavens journey still, and sojourn not. + + [_There are knocks at the door._] + +There's some one knocking there. See who it is. + +TERZKY (_from without_). + +Open, and let me in. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Ay--'tis Terzky. +What is there of such urgence? We are busy. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN AND TERZKY As performed at the +Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + +TERZKY (_from without_). + +Lay all aside at present, I entreat you. +It suffers no delaying. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Open, Seni! + +[_While_ SENI _opens the door for_ TERZKY, WALLENSTEIN +_draws the curtain over the figures_.] + + +SCENE II + + +WALLENSTEIN. COUNT TERZKY + +TERZKY (_enters_). + +Hast thou already heard it? He is taken. +Gallas has given him up to the Emperor. + + [SENI _draws off the black table, and exit_.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_to_ TERZKY). + +Who has been taken? Who is given up? + +TERZKY. + +The man who knows our secrets, who knows every +Negotiation with the Swede and Saxon, +Through whose hands all and everything has pass'd-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_drawing back_). + +Nay, not Sesina?--Say, No! I entreat thee. + +TERZKY. + +All on his road for Regensburg to the Swede +He was plunged down upon by Gallas' agent, +Who had been long in ambush, lurking for him. +There must have been found on him my whole packet +To Thur, to Kinsky, to Oxenstiern, to Arnheim: +All this is in their hands; they have now an insight +Into the whole--our measures and our motives. + + +SCENE III + + +_To them enters_ ILLO. + +ILLO (_to_ TERZKY). + +Has he heard it? + +TERZHY. + + He has heard it. + +ILLO (_to_ WALLENSTEIN). + + Thinkest thou still +To make thy peace with the Emperor, to regain +His confidence? E'en were it now thy wish +To abandon all thy plans, yet still they know +What thou hast wish'd: then forwards thou must press, +Retreat is now no longer in thy power. + +TERZKY. + +They have documents against us, and in hands, +Which show beyond all power of contradiction-- + +WALLENST. + +Of my handwriting--no iota. Thee +I punish for thy lies. + +ILLO. + + And thou believest, +That what this man, and what thy sister's husband, +Did in thy name, will not stand on thy reck'ning? +_His_ word must pass for thy word with the Swede, +And not with those that hate thee at Vienna? + +TERZKY. + +In writing thou gavest nothing--But bethink thee, +How far thou ventured'st by word of mouth +With this Sesina! And will he be silent? +If he can save himself by yielding up +Thy secret purposes, will he retain them? + +ILLO. + +Thyself dost not conceive it possible; +And since they now have evidence authentic +How far thou hast already gone, speak!--tell us, +What art thou waiting for? Thou canst no longer +Keep thy command; and beyond hope of rescue +Thou'rt lost, if thou resign'st it. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In the army +Lies my security. The army will not +Abandon me. Whatever they may know, +The power is mine, and they must gulp it down-- +And if I give them caution for my fealty, +They must be satisfied, at least appear so. + +ILLO. + +The army, Duke, _is_ thine now--for this moment-- +'Tis thine, but think with terror on the slow, +The quiet power of time. From open violence +The attachment of thy soldiery secures thee +Today--tomorrow: but grant'st thou them a respite +Unheard, unseen, they'll undermine that love +On which thou now dost feel so firm a footing, +With wily theft will draw away from thee +One after the other other-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis a cursed accident! + +ILLO. + +Oh! I will call it a most blessèd one, +If it work on thee as it ought to do, +Hurry thee on to action--to decision. +The Swedish General-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + He's arrived! Know'st thou +What his commission is-- + +ILLO. + + To thee alone +Will he intrust the purpose of his coming. + +WALLENST. + +A cursed, cursed accident! Yes, yes, +Sesina knows too much, and won't be silent. + +TERZKY. + +He's a Bohemian fugitive and rebel, +His neck is forfeit. Can he save himself +At thy cost, think you he will scruple it? +And if they put him to the torture, will he, +Will _he_, that dastardling, have strength enough-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_lost in thought_). + +Their confidence is lost, irreparably! +And I may act which way I will, I shall +Be and remain forever in their thought +A traitor to my country. How sincerely +Soever I return back to my duty, +It will no longer help me-- + +ILLO. + + Ruin thee, +That it will do! Not thy fidelity, +Thy weakness will be deemed the sole occasion-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_pacing up and down in extreme agitation_). + +What! I must realize it now in earnest, +Because I toy'd too freely with the thought! +Accursed he who dallies with a devil! +And must I--I _must_ realize it now-- +Now, while I have the power, it _must_ take place? + +ILLO. + + Now--now--ere they can ward and parry it! + +WALLENSTEIN (_looking at the paper of signatures_). + +I have the Generals' word--a written promise! +Max Piccolomini stands not here--how's that? + +TERZKY. + +It was--he fancied-- + +ILLO. + + Mere self-willedness. +There needed no such thing 'twixt him and you. + +WALLENST. + +He is quite right; there needed no such thing. +The regiments, too, deny to march for Flanders-- +Have sent me in a paper of remonstrance, +And openly resist the Imperial orders. +The first step to revolt's already taken. + +ILLO. + +Believe me, thou wilt find it far more easy +To lead them over to the enemy +Than to the Spaniard. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I will hear, however, +What the Swede has to say to me. + +ILLO (_eagerly to_ TERZKY). + + Go, call him +He stands without the door in waiting. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Stay! +Stay but a little. It hath taken me +All by surprise; it came too quick upon me; +'Tis wholly novel that an accident, +With its dark lordship, and blind agency, +Should force me on with it. + +ILLO. + + First hear him only, +And after weigh it. + + [_Exeunt_ TERZKY _and_ ILLO.] + + +SCENE IV. + + +WALLENSTEIN (_in soliloquy_). + + Is it possible? +Is't so! I _can_ no longer what I _would_? +No longer draw back at my liking? I +Must _do_ the deed, because I _thought_ of it? +And fed this heart here with a dream? Because +I did not scowl temptation from my presence, +Dallied with thoughts of possible fulfilment, +Commenced no movement, left all time uncertain, +And only kept the road, the access open? +By the great God of Heaven! it was not +My serious meaning, it was ne'er resolved. +I but amused myself with thinking of it. +The free-will tempted me, the power to do +Or not to do it--Was it criminal +To make the fancy minister to hope, +To fill the air with pretty toys of air, +And clutch fantastic sceptres moving t'ward me! +Was not the will kept free? Beheld I not +The road of duty close beside me--but +One little step, and once more I was in it! +Where am I? Whither have I been transported? +No road, no track behind me, but a wall +Impenetrable, insurmountable, +Rises obedient to the spells I muttered +And meant not--my own doings tower behind me. + + [_Pauses and remains in deep thought._] + +A punishable man I seem; the guilt, +Try what I will, I cannot roll off from me; +The equivocal demeanor of my life +Bears witness on my prosecutor's party. +And even my purest acts from purest motives +Suspicion poisons with malicious gloss. +Were I that thing for which I pass, that traitor, +A goodly outside I had sure reserved, +Had drawn the coverings thick and double round me, +Been calm and chary of my utterance; +But being conscious of the innocence +Of my intent, my uncorrupted will, +I gave way to my humors, to my passion: +Bold were my words, because my deeds were _not_. +Now every planless measure, chance event, +The threat of rage, the vaunt of joy and triumph, +And all the May-games of a heart o'erflowing, +Will they connect, and weave them all together +Into one web of treason; all will be plain, +My eye ne'er absent from the far-off mark, +Step tracing step, each step a politic progress; +And out of all they'll fabricate a charge +So specious that I must myself stand dumb. +I am caught in my own net, and only force, +Nought but a sudden rent, can liberate me. + + [_Pauses again._] + +How else! since that the heart's unbias'd instinct +Impell'd me to the daring deed, which now +Necessity, self-preservation, _orders_. +Stern is the on-look of Necessity, +Not without shudder may a human hand +Grasp the mysterious urn of destiny. +My deed was mine, remaining in my bosom: +Once suffer'd to escape from its safe corner +Within the heart, its nursery and birth-place, +Sent forth into the Foreign, it belongs +Forever to those sly malicious powers +Whom never art of man conciliated. + +[_Paces in agitation through the chamber, then pauses, and +after the pause breaks out again into audible soliloquy._] + +What is thy enterprise? thy aim? thy object? +Hast honestly confess'd it to thyself? +Power seated on a quiet throne thou'dst shake, +Power on an ancient consecrated throne, +Strong in possession, founded in all custom; +Power by a thousand tough and stringy roots +Fix'd to the people's pious nursery-faith. +This, this will be no strife of strength with strength. +That fear'd I not. I brave each combatant, +Whom I can look on, fixing eye to eye, +Who, full himself of courage, kindles courage +In me too. 'Tis a foe invisible +The which I fear--a fearful enemy, +Which in the human heart opposes me, +By its coward fear alone made fearful to me. +Not that, which full of life, instinct with power, +Makes known its present being; that is not +The true, the perilously formidable. +O no! it is the common, the quite common, +The thing of an eternal yesterday. +What ever was, and evermore returns, +Sterling tomorrow, for today 'twas sterling! +For of the wholly common is man made, +And custom is his nurse! Woe then to them +Who lay irreverent hands upon his old +House furniture, the dear inheritance +From his forefathers! For time consecrates; +And what is gray with age becomes religion. +Be in possession, and thou hast the right, +And sacred will the many guard it for thee! + + [_To the_ PAGE _who here enters_.] + +The Swedish officer?--Well, let him enter. + +[_The_ PAGE _exit_, WALLENSTEIN _fixes his eye in deep +thought on the door_.] + +Yet is it pure--as yet!--the crime has come +Not o'er this threshold yet--so slender is +The boundary that divideth life's two paths. + + +SCENE V + + +WALLENSTEIN _and_ WRANGEL + + +WALLENSTEIN (_after having fixed a searching look on him_). + +Your name is Wrangel? + +WRANGEL. + + Gustave Wrangel, General +Of the Sudermanian Blues. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + It was a Wrangel +Who injured me materially at Stralsund, +And by his brave resistance was the cause +Of the opposition which that sea-port made. + +WRANGEL. + +It was the doing of the element +With which you fought, my Lord! and not my merit. +The Baltic Neptune did assert his freedom: +The sea and land, it seem'd, were not to serve +One and the same. + +[WALLENST. + +You pluck'd the Admiral's hat from off my head. + +WRANGEL. + +I come to place a diadem thereon.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_makes the motion for him to take a seat, and +seats himself_). + + And where are your credentials? +Come you provided with full powers, Sir General? + +WRANGEL. + +There are so many scruples yet to solve-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_having read the credentials_). + +An able letter!--Ay--he is a prudent +Intelligent master whom you serve, Sir General! +The Chancellor writes me, that he but fulfils +His late departed Sovereign's own idea +In helping me to the Bohemian crown. + +WRANGEL. + +He says the truth. Our great King, now in heaven, +Did ever deem most highly of your Grace's +Preëminent sense and military genius; +And always the commanding Intellect, +He said, should have command, and be the King. + +WALLENST. + +Yes, he _might_ say it safely.--General Wrangel, + + [_Taking his hand affectionately._] + +Come, fair and open. Trust me, I was always +A Swede at heart. Eh! that did you experience +Both in Silesia and at Nuremberg; +I had you often in my power, and let you +Always slip out by some back door or other. +'Tis this for which the Court can ne'er forgive me, +Which drives me to this present step: and since +Our interests so run in one direction, +E'en let us have a thorough confidence +Each in the other. + +WRANGEL. + + Confidence will come +Has each but only first security. + +WALLENST. + +The Chancellor still, I see, does not quite trust me; +And, I confess--the game does not lie wholly +To my advantage. Without doubt he thinks, +If I can play false with the Emperor, +Who is my sovereign, I can do the like +With the enemy, and that _the one_ too were +Sooner to be forgiven me than the _other_. +Is not this your opinion, too, Sir General? + +WRANGEL. + +I have here a duty merely, no opinion. + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor hath urged me to the uttermost: +I can no longer honorably serve him; +For my security, in self-defence, +I take this hard step, which my conscience blames. + +WRANGEL. + +That I believe. So far would no one go +Who was not forced to it. + + [_After a pause_.] + + What may have impell'd +Your princely Highness in this wise to act +Toward your Sovereign Lord and Emperor, +Beseems not us to expound or criticise. +The Swede is fighting for his good old cause, +With his good sword and conscience. This concurrence, +This opportunity, is in our favor, +And all advantages in war are lawful. +We take what offers without questioning; +And if all have its due and just proportions-- + +WALLENST. + +Of what then are ye doubting? Of my will? +Or of my power? I pledged me to the Chancellor, +Would he trust _me_ with sixteen thousand men, +That I would instantly go over to them +With eighteen thousand of the Emperor's troops. + +WRANGEL. + +Your Grace is known to be a mighty war-chief, +To be a second Attila and Pyrrhus. +'Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment, +How some years past, beyond all human faith, +You call'd an army forth, like a creation: +But yet-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + +But yet? + +WRANGEL. + + But still the Chancellor thinks +It might yet be an easier thing from nothing +To call forth sixty thousand men of battle, +Than to persuade one sixtieth part of them-- + +WALLENST. + +What now? Out with it, friend! + +WRANGEL. + + To break their oaths. + +WALLENST. + +And he thinks _so_? He judges like a Swede, +And like a Protestant. You Lutherans +Fight for your Bible. You are interested +About the cause; and with your _hearts_ you follow +Your banners. Among _you_, whoe'er deserts +To the enemy hath broken covenant +With two Lords at one time. We've no such fancies. + +WRANGEL. + +Great God in Heaven! Have then the people here +No house and home, no fireside, no altar? + +WALLENST. + +I will explain that to you, how it stands:-- +The Austrian _has_ a country, ay, and loves it, +And has good cause to love it--but this army, +That calls itself the Imperial, this that houses +Here in Bohemia, this has none--no country; +This is an outcast of all foreign lands, +Unclaim'd by town or tribe, to whom belongs +Nothing except the universal sun. +And this Bohemian land for which we fight-- +[Loves not the master whom the chance of war, +Not its own choice or will, hath given to it. +Men murmur at the oppression of their conscience, +And power hath only awed but not appeased them; +A glowing and avenging mem'ry lives +Of cruel deeds committed on these plains; +How can the son forget that here his father +Was hunted by the blood-hound to the mass? +A people thus oppress'd must still be feared, +Whether they suffer or avenge their wrongs.] + +WRANGEL. + +But then the Nobles and the Officers? +Such a desertion, such a felony, +It is without example, my Lord Duke, +In the world's history. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + They are all mine-- +Mine unconditionally--mine on all terms. +Not me, your own eyes you must trust. + +[_He gives him the paper containing the written oath._ +WRANGEL _reads it through, and, having read it, lays it on +the table, remaining silent_.] + + So then? +Now comprehend you? + +WRANGEL. + + Comprehend who can! +My Lord Duke, I will let the mask drop--yes! +I've full powers for a final settlement. +The Rhinegrave stands but four days' march from here +With fifteen thousand men, and only waits +For orders to proceed and join your army. +Those orders _I_ give out, immediately +We're compromised. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What asks the Chancellor? + +WRANGEL (_considerately_). + +Twelve regiments, every man a Swede--my head +The warranty--and all might prove at last +Only false play-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_starting_). + + Sir Swede! + +WRANGEL (_calmly proceeding_). + + Am therefore forced +T' insist thereon, that he do formally, +Irrevocably break with the Emperor, +Else not a Swede is trusted to Duke Friedland. + +WALLENST. + +Come, brief, and open! What is the demand? + +WRANGEL. + +That he forthwith disarm the Spanish regiments +Attached to the Emp'ror, that he seize on Prague, +And to the Swedes give up that city, with +The strong pass Egra. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That is much indeed! +Prague!--Egra's granted--but--but Prague!--'T won't do. +I give you every security +Which you may ask of me in common reason-- +But Prague--Bohemia--these, Sir General, +I can myself protect. + +WRANGEL. + + We doubt it not. +But 'tis not the protection that is now +Our sole concern. We want security +That we shall not expend our men and money +All to no purpose. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis but reasonable. + +WRANGEL. + +And till we are indemnified, so long +Stays Prague in pledge. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Then trust you us so little? + +WRANGEL (_rising_). + +The Swede, if he would treat well with the German, +Must keep a sharp look-out. We have been call'd +Over the Baltic, we have saved the empire +From ruin--with our best blood have we sealed +The liberty of faith and gospel truth. +But now already is the benefaction +No longer felt, the load alone is felt. +Ye look askance with evil eye upon us, +As foreigners, intruders in the empire, +And would fain send us, with some paltry sum +Of money, home again to our old forests. +No, no! my Lord Duke! no!--it never was +For Judas' pay, for chinking gold and silver, +That we did leave our King by the Great Stone[24] +No, not for gold and silver have there bled +So many of our Swedish Nobles--neither +Will we, with empty laurels for our payment, +Hoist sail for our own country. _Citizens_ +Will we remain upon the soil, the which +Our Monarch conquer'd for himself, and died. + +WALLENST. + +Help to keep down the common enemy, +And the fair border land must needs be yours. + +WRANGEL. + +But when the common enemy lies vanquish'd, +Who knits together our new friendship then? +We know, Duke Friedland! though perhaps the Swede +Ought not to have known it, that you carry on +Secret negotiations with the Saxons. +Who is our warranty, that _we_ are not +The sacrifices in those articles +Which 'tis thought needful to conceal from us? + +WALLENSTEIN (_rises_). + +Think you of something better, Gustave Wrangel! +Of Prague no more. + +WRANGEL. + + Here my commission ends. + +WALLENST. + +Surrender up to you my capital! +Far liever would I face about, and step +Back to my Emperor. + +WRANGEL. + + If time yet permits-- + +WALLENST. + +That lies with me, even now, at any hour. + +WRANGEL. + +Some days ago, perhaps. Today, no longer; +No longer since Sesina's been a prisoner. + + [WALLENSTEIN _is struck, and silenced_.] + +My Lord Duke, hear me--We believe that you +At present do mean honorably by us. +Since _yesterday_ we're sure of that--and now +This paper warrants for the troops, there's nothing +Stands in the way of our full confidence. +Prague shall not part us. Hear! The Chancellor +Contents himself with Altstadt; to your Grace +He gives up Ratschin and the narrow side. +But Egra above all must open to us, +Ere we can think of any junction. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + You, +You therefore must I trust, and not you me? +I will consider of your proposition. + +WRANGEL. + +I must entreat that your consideration +Occupy not too long a time. Already +Has this negotiation, my Lord Duke, +Crept on into the second year! If nothing +Is settled this time, will the Chancellor +Consider it as broken off for ever. + +WALLENST. + +Ye press me hard. A measure such as this, +Ought to be _thought_ of. + +WRANGEL. + + Ay! but think of this too, +That sudden action only can procure it +Success--think first of this, your Highness. + + [_Exit_ WRANGEL.] + + +SCENE VI + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, _and_ ILLO (_re-enter_) + +ILLO. + + It's all right? + +TERZKY. + + Are you compromised? + +ILLO. + + This Swede +Went smiling from you. Yes! you're compromised. + +WALLENST. + +As yet is nothing settled: and (well weighed) +I feel myself inclined to leave it so. + +TERZKY. + +How? What is that? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Come on me what will come, +The doing evil to avoid an evil +Cannot be good! + +TERZKY. + + Nay, but bethink you, Duke. + +WALLENST. + +To live upon the mercy of these Swedes! +Of these proud-hearted Swedes!--I could not bear it. + +ILLO. + +Goest thou as fugitive, as mendicant? +Bringest thou not more to them than thou receivest? + +WALLENST. + +How fared it with the brave and royal Bourbon +Who sold himself unto his country's foes, +And pierced the bosom of his father-land? +Curses were his reward, and men's abhorrence +Avenged th' unnatural and revolting deed. + +ILLO. + +Is that thy case? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + True faith, I tell thee, +Must ever be the dearest friend of man: +His nature prompts him to assert its rights. +The enmity of sects, the rage of parties, +Long cherish'd envy, jealousy, unite; +And all the struggling elements of evil +Suspend their conflict, and together league +In one alliance 'gainst their common foe-- +The savage beast that breaks into the fold, +Where men repose in confidence and peace. +For vain were man's own prudence to protect him. +'Tis only in the forehead nature plants +The watchful eye--the back, without defence, +Must find its shield in man's fidelity. + +TERZKY. + +Think not more meanly of thyself than do +Thy foes, who stretch their hands with joy to greet thee; +Less scrupulous far was the Imperial Charles, +The powerful head of this illustrious house; +With open arms he gave the Bourbon welcome; +For still by policy the world is ruled. + + +SCENE VII + +_To these enter the_ COUNTESS TERZKY + +WALLENST. + +Who sent for you? There is no business here +For women. + +COUNTESS. + + I am come to bid you joy. + +WALLENST. + +Use thy authority, Terzky; bid her go. + +COUNTESS. + +Come I perhaps too early? I hope not. + +WALLENST. + +Set not this tongue upon me, I entreat you: +You know it is the weapon that destroys me. +I am routed, if a woman but attack me: +I cannot traffic in the trade of words +With that unreasoning sex. + +COUNTESS. + + I had already +Given the Bohemians a king. + +WALLENSTEIN (_sarcastically_). + + They have one, +In consequence, no doubt. + +COUNTESS (_to the others_). + + Ha! what new scruple? + +TERZKY. + +The Duke will not. + +COUNTESS. + + He _will not_ what he _must_! + +ILLO. + +It lies with you now. Try. For I am silenced +When folks begin to talk to me of conscience +And of fidelity. + +COUNTESS. + + How? then, when all +Lay in the far-off distance, when the road +Stretch'd out before thine eyes interminably, +Then hadst thou courage and resolve; and now, +Now that the dream is being realized, +The purpose ripe, the issue ascertain'd, +Dost thou begin to play the dastard now? +Plann'd merely, 'tis a common felony; +Accomplish'd, an immortal undertaking: +And with success comes pardon hand in hand, +For all event is God's arbitrament. + +SERVANT (_enters_). + +The Colonel Piccolomini. + +COUNTESS (_hastily_). + +Must wait. + +WALLENST. + +I cannot see him now. Another time. + +SERVANT. + +But for two minutes he entreats an audience: +Of the most urgent nature is his business. + +WALLENST. + +Who knows what he may bring us! I will hear him. + +COUNTESS (_laughs_). + +Urgent for him, no doubt? but thou may'st wait. + +WALLENST. + +What is it? + +COUNTESS. + + Thou shalt be inform'd hereafter. +First let the Swede and thee be compromised. + +[_Exit_ SERVANT.] + +WALLENST. + +If there were yet a choice! if yet some milder +Way of escape were possible--I still +Will choose it, and avoid the last extreme. + +COUNTESS. + +Desirest thou nothing further? Such a way +Lies still before thee. Send this Wrangel off. +Forget thou thy old hopes, cast far away +All thy past life; determine to commence +A new one. Virtue hath her heroes too, +As well as fame and fortune.--To Vienna +Hence--to the Emperor--kneel before the throne +Take a full coffer with thee--say aloud, +Thou didst but wish to prove thy fealty; +Thy whole intention but to dupe the Swede. + +ILLO. + +For that too 'tis too late. They know too much; +He would but bear his own head to the block. + +COUNTESS. + +I fear not that. They have not evidence +To attaint him legally, and they avoid +The avowal of an arbitrary power. +They'll let the Duke resign without disturbance. +I see how all will end. The King of Hungary +Makes his appearance, and 'twill of itself +Be understood that then the Duke retires. +There will not want a formal declaration; +The young King will administer the oath +To the whole army; and so all returns +To the old position. On some morrow morning +The Duke departs; and now 'tis stir and bustle +Within his castles. He will hunt, and build, +And superintend his horses' pedigrees; +Creates himself a court, gives golden keys, +And introduces strictest ceremony +In fine proportions, and nice etiquette; +Keeps open table with high cheer: in brief, +Commences mighty King--in miniature. +And while he prudently demeans himself, +And gives himself no actual importance, +He will be let appear whate'er he likes; +And who dares doubt that Friedland will appear +A mighty Prince to his last dying hour? +Well now, what then? Duke Friedland is as others, +A fire-new Noble, whom the war hath raised +To price and currency, a Jonah's gourd, +An over-night creation of court-favor, +Which with an undistinguishable ease +Makes Baron or makes Prince. + +WALLENSTEIN (_in extreme agitation_). + + Take her away. +Let in the young Count Piccolomini. + +COUNTESS. + +Art thou in earnest? I entreat thee! Canst thou +Consent to bear thyself to thy own grave, +So ignominiously to be dried up? +Thy life, that arrogated such an height +To end in such a nothing! To be nothing, +When one was always nothing, is an evil +That asks no stretch of patience, a light evil; +But to become a nothing, having been-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_starts up in violent agitation_). + +Show me a way out of this stifling crowd, +Ye powers of Aidance! Show me such a way +As _I_ am capable of going. I +Am no tongue-hero, no fine virtue-prattler; +I cannot warm by thinking; cannot say +To the good luck that turns her back upon me, +Magnanimously: "Go; I need thee not." +Cease I to work, I am annihilated. +Dangers nor sacrifices will I shun, +If so I may avoid the last extreme; +But ere I sink down into nothingness, +Leave off so little, who began so great, +Ere that the world confuses me with those +Poor wretches whom a day creates and crumbles, +This age and after ages[25] speak my name +With hate and dread; and Friedland be redemption +For each accursed deed. + +COUNTESS. + + What is there here, then, +So against nature? Help me to perceive it! +O let not Superstition's nightly goblins +Subdue thy clear bright spirit! Art thou bid +To murder?--with abhorr'd, accursed poinard, +To violate the breasts that nourish'd thee? +That _were_ against our nature, that might aptly +Make thy flesh shudder, and thy whole heart sicken,[26] +Yet not a few, and for a meaner object, +Have ventured even this, ay, and perform'd it. +What is there in thy case so black and monstrous? +Thou art accused of treason--whether with +Or without justice is not now the question-- +Thou art lost if thou dost not avail thee quickly +Of the power which thou possessest--Friedland! _Duke!_ +Tell me where lives that thing so meek and tame, +That doth not all his living faculties +Put forth in preservation of his life? +What deed so daring, which necessity +And desperation will not sanctify? + +WALLENST. + +Once was this Ferdinand so gracious to me; +He loved me; he esteem'd me; I was placed +The nearest to his heart. Full many a time +We like familiar friends, both at one table, +Have banqueted together. He and I-- +And the young kings themselves held me the basin +Wherewith to wash me--and is't come to this? + +COUNTESS. + +So faithfully preserves thou each small favor, +And hast no memory for contumelies? +Must I remind thee, how at Regensburg +This man repaid thy faithful services? +All ranks and all conditions in the empire +Thou hadst wronged, to make him great,--hadst loaded on thee, +On _thee_, the hate, the curse of the whole world. +No friend existed for thee in all Germany, +And why? because thou hadst existed only +For the Emperor. To the Emperor alone +Clung Friedland in that storm which gather'd round him +At Regensburg in the Diet--and he dropp'd thee! +He let thee fall! he let thee fall a victim +To the Bavarian, to that insolent! +Deposed, stript bare of all thy dignity +And power, amid the taunting of thy foes, +Thou wert let drop into obscurity.-- +Say not the restoration of thy honor +Has made atonement for that first injustice. +No honest good-will was it that replaced thee; +The law of hard necessity replaced thee, +Which they had fain opposed, but that they could not. + +WALLENST. + +Not to their good wishes, that is certain, +Nor yet to his affection I'm indebted +For this high office: and if I abuse it, +I shall therein abuse no confidence. + +COUNTESS. + +Affection! confidence!--they _needed_ thee. +Necessity, impetuous remonstrant! +Who not with empty names, or shows of proxy, +Is served, who'll have the thing and not the symbol, +Ever seeks out the greatest and the best, +And at the rudder places _him_, e'en though +She had been forced to take him from the rabble-- +She, this Necessity, it was that placed thee +In this high office; it was she that gave thee +Thy letters patent of inauguration. +For, to the uttermost moment that they can, +This race still help themselves at cheapest rate +With slavish souls, with puppets! At the approach +Of extreme peril, when a hollow image +Is found a hollow image and no more, +Then falls the power into the mighty hands +Of Nature, of the spirit giant-born, +Who listens only to himself, knows nothing +Of stipulations, duties, reverences, +And, like the emancipated force of fire, +Unmaster'd scorches, ere it reaches them, +Their fine-spun webs, their artificial policy. + +WALLENST. + +'Tis true! they saw me always as I am-- +Always! I did not cheat them in the bargain. +I never held it worth my pains to hide +The bold all-grasping habit of my soul. + +COUNTESS. + +Nay rather--thou hast ever shown thyself +A formidable man, without restraint; +Hast exercised the full prerogatives +Of thy impetuous nature, which had been +Once granted to thee. Therefore, Duke, not _thou_ +Who hast still remained consistent with thyself; +But _they_ are in the wrong, who fearing thee, +Intrusted such a power in hand they fear'd. +For, by the laws of Spirit, in the right +Is every individual character +That acts in strict consistence with itself. +Self-contradiction is the only wrong. +Wert thou another being, then, when thou +Eight years ago pursuedst thy march with fire, +And sword, and desolation, through the Circles +Of Germany, the universal scourge, +Didst mock all ordinances of the empire, +The fearful rights of strength alone exertedst, +Trampledst to earth each rank, each magistracy, +All to extend thy Sultan's domination? +Then was the time to break thee in, to curb +Thy haughty will, to teach thee ordinance. +But no, the Emperor felt no touch of conscience; +What served him pleased him, and without a murmur +He stamp'd his broad seal on these lawless deeds. +What at that time was right, because thou didst it +_For him_, today is all at once become +Opprobrious, foul, because it is directed +_Against him_.--O most flimsy superstition! + +WALLENSTEIN (_rising_). + +I never saw it in this light before; +'Tis even so. The Emperor perpetrated +Deeds through my arm, deeds most unorderly. +And even this prince's mantle, which I wear, +I owe to what were services to him, +But most high misdemeanors 'gainst the empire. + +COUNTESS. + +Then betwixt thee and him (confess it Friedland!) +The point can be no more of right and duty, +Only of power and the opportunity. +That opportunity, lo! it comes yonder +Approaching with swift steeds; then with a swing +Throw thyself up into the chariot-seat, +Seize with firm hand the reins, ere thy opponent +Anticipate thee, and himself make conquest +Of the now empty seat. The moment comes; +It is already here, when thou must write +The absolute total of thy life's vast sum. +The constellations stand victorious o'er thee, +The planets shoot good fortune in fair junctions, +And tell thee, "Now's the time!" The starry courses +Hast thou thy life long measured to no purpose? +The quadrant and the circle, were they play-things? + +[_Pointing to the different objects in the room_.] + +The zodiacs, the rolling orbs of heaven, +Hast pictured on these walls, and all around thee +In dumb, foreboding symbols hast thou placed +These seven presiding Lords of Destiny-- +For toys? Is all this preparation nothing? +Is there no marrow in this hollow art, +That even to thyself it doth avail +Nothing, and has no influence over thee +In the great moment of decision?-- + +WALLENSTEIN. (_during this last speech walks up and down with +inward struggles, laboring with passion; stops suddenly, +stands still, then interrupting the_ COUNTESS). + +Send Wrangel to me--I will instantly +Dispatch three couriers-- + +ILLO (_hurrying out_). + + God in heaven be praised! + +WALLENST. + +It is _his_ evil genius and _mine_. +Our evil genius! It chastises _him_ +Through me, the instrument of his ambition; +And I expect no less than that Revenge +E'en now is whetting for _my_ breast the poinard. +Who sows the serpent's teeth, let him not hope +To reap a joyous harvest. Every crime +Has, in the moment of its perpetration, +Its own avenging angel--dark misgiving, +An ominous sinking at the inmost heart. +He can no longer trust me. Then no longer +Can I retreat--so come that which must come. +Still destiny preserves its due relations, +The heart within us is its absolute +Vicegerent. + +[_To TERZKY_.] + + Go, conduct you Gustave Wrangel +To my state-cabinet.--Myself will speak to +The couriers.--And dispatch immediately +A servant for Octavio Piccolomini. + +[_To the _COUNTESS, _who cannot conceal her triumph_.] + +No exultation! woman, triumph not! +For jealous are the Powers of Destiny. +Joy premature, and shouts ere victory, +Encroach upon their rights and privileges. +We sow the seed, and they the growth determine. + +[_While he is making his exit the curtain drops_.] + + * * * * * + + + +ACT II + + +SCENE I + +_Scene, as in the preceding Act_ + +WALLENSTEIN, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI + +WALLENSTEIN (_coming forward in conversation_). + +He sends me word from Linz that he lies sick; +But I have sure intelligence that he +Secretes himself at Frauenberg with Gallas. +Secure them both, and send them to me hither. +Remember, thou takest on thee the command +Of those same Spanish regiments,--constantly +Make preparation, and be never ready; +And if they urge thee to draw out against me, +Still answer YES, and stand as thou wert fetter'd; +I know that it is doing thee a service +To keep thee out of action in this business. +Thou lovest to linger on in fair appearances; +Steps of extremity are not thy province; +Therefore have I sought out this part for thee. +Thou wilt this time be of most service to me +By thy inertness. The mean time, if fortune +Declare itself on my side, thou wilt know +What is to do. + +_Enter_ MAX PICCOLOMINI + + Now go, Octavio. +This night must thou be off, take my own horses +Him here I keep with me--make short farewell-- +Trust me, I think, we all shall meet again +In joy and thriving fortunes. + +OCTAVIO (_to his son_). + + I shall see you +Yet ere I go. + + +SCENE II + +WALLENSTEIN, MAX PICCOLOMINI + +MAX. (_advances to him_). + +My General? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That I am no longer, if +Thou stylest thyself the Emperor's officer. + +MAX. + +Then thou wilt leave the army, General? + +WALLENST. + +I have renounced the service of the Emperor. + +MAX. + +And thou wilt leave the army? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Rather hope I +To bind it nearer still and faster to me. + +[_He seats himself_.] + +Yes, Max, I have delay'd to open it to thee, +Even till the hour of acting 'gins to strike. +Youth's fortunate feeling doth seize easily +The absolute right, yea, and a joy it is +To exercise the single apprehension +Where the sums square in proof; +But where it happens that of two sure evils +One must be taken, where the heart not wholly +Brings itself back from out the strife of duties, +There 'tis a blessing to have no election, +And blank necessity is grace and favor. +--This is now present: do not look behind thee,-- +It can no more avail thee. Look thou forwards! +Think not! judge not! prepare thyself to act! +The Court--it hath determined on my ruin, +Therefore I will be beforehand with them. +We'll join the Swedes--right gallant fellows are they, +And our good friends. + +[_He stops himself, expecting_ PICCOLOMINI's _answer_.] + +I have ta'en thee by surprise. Answer me not. +I grant thee time to recollect thyself. + +[_He rises, retires at the back of the stage_. MAX _remains for a +long time motionless, in a trance of excessive anguish. At his +first motion_ WALLENSTEIN _returns, and places himself before +him_.] + +MAX. + +My General, this day thou makest me +Of age to speak in my own right and person, +For till this day I have been spared the trouble +To find out my own road. Thee have I follow'd +With most implicit unconditional faith, +Sure of the right path if I follow'd thee. +Today, for the first time, dost thou refer +Me to myself, and forcest me to make +Election between thee and my own heart. + +WALLENST. + +Soft cradled thee thy Fortune till today; +Thy duties thou couldst exercise in sport, +Indulge all lovely instincts, act forever +With undivided heart. It can remain +No longer thus. Like enemies, the roads +Start from each other. Duties strive with duties. +Thou must needs choose thy party in the war +Which is now kindling 'twixt thy friend and him +Who is thy Emperor. + +MAX. + + War! is that the name? +War is as frightful as heaven's pestilence, +Yet it is good. Is it heaven's will as that is? +Is that a good war, which against the Emperor +Thou wagest with the Emperor's own army? +O God of heaven! what a change is this! +Beseems it me to offer such persuasion +To thee, who like the fix'd star of the pole +Wert all I gazed at on life's trackless ocean? +O! what a rent thou makest in my heart! +The ingrain'd instinct of old reverence, +The holy habit of obediency, +Must I pluck live asunder from thy name? +Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me-- +It always was as a god looking upon me! +Duke Wallenstein, its power has not departed. +The senses still are in thy bonds, although, +Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Max, hear me. + +MAX. + +O! do it not, I pray thee, do it not! +There is a pure and noble soul within thee +Knows not of this unblest, unlucky doing. +Thy will is chaste, it is thy fancy only +Which hath polluted thee; and innocence-- +It will not let itself be driven away +From that world-awing aspect. Thou wilt not, +Thou canst not, end in this. It would reduce +All human creatures to disloyalty +Against the nobleness of their own nature. +'Twill justify the vulgar misbelief +Which holdeth nothing noble in free will +And trusts itself to impotence alone +Made powerful only in an unknown power. + +WALLENST. + +The world will judge me sternly, I expect it. +Already have I said to my own self +All thou canst say to me. Who but avoids +The extreme, can he by going round avoid it? +But here there is no choice. Yes--I must use +Or suffer violence--so stands the case; +There remains nothing possible but that. + +MAX. + +O that is never possible for thee! +'Tis the last desperate resource of those +Cheap souls to whom their honor, their good name +Is their poor _saving_, their last worthless _keep_, +Which, having staked and lost, they stake themselves +In the mad rage of gaming. Thou art rich +And glorious; with an unpolluted heart +Thou canst make conquest of whate'er seems highest! +But he, who once hath acted infamy, +Does nothing more in this world. + +WALLENSTEIN (_grasps his hand_). + + Calmly, Max! +Much that is great and excellent will we +Perform together yet. And if we only +Stand on the height with dignity, 'tis soon +Forgotten, Max, by what road we ascended. +Believe me, many a crown shines spotless now +That yet was deeply sullied in the winning. +To the evil spirit doth the earth belong, +Not to the good. All that the powers divine +Send from above are universal blessings, +Their light rejoices us, their air refreshes, +But never yet was man enrich'd by them +In their eternal realm no _property_ +Is to be struggled for--all there is general +The jewel, the all-valued gold we win +From the deceiving Powers, depraved in nature, +That dwell beneath the day and blessed sun-light. +Not without sacrifices are they render'd +Propitious, and there lives no soul on earth +That e'er retired unsullied from their service. + +MAX. + +Whate'er is human, to the human being +Do I allow--and to the vehement +And striving spirit readily I pardon +The excess of action; but to thee, my General, +Above _all_ others make I large concession. +For thou must move a world, and be the master-- +He kills thee who condemns thee to inaction. +So be it then! maintain thee in thy post +By violence. Resist the Emperor, +And, if it must be, force with force repel: +I will not praise it, yet I can forgive it. +But not--not to the _traitor_--yes!--the word +Is spoken out-- +Not to the traitor can I yield a pardon. +That is no mere excess! that is no error +Of human nature--that is wholly different; +O that is black, black as the pit of hell! + + [WALLENSTEIN _betrays a sudden agitation_.] + +Thou canst not hear it _named_, and wilt thou _do_ it? +O, turn back to thy duty! That thou canst +I hold it certain. Send me to Vienna: +I'll make thy peace for thee with the Emperor. +He knows thee not. But I do know thee. He +Shall see thee, Duke, with my unclouded eye, +And I bring back his confidence to thee. + +WALLENST. + +It is too late! Thou knowest not what has happen'd. + +MAX. + +Were it too late, and were things gone so far, +That a crime only could prevent thy fall, +Then--fall! fall honorably, even as thou stood'st! +Lose the command. Go from the stage of war, +Thou canst with splendor do it--do it too +With innocence. Thou hast lived much for others, +At length live thou for thy own self. I follow thee; +My destiny I never part from thine. + +WALLENST. + +It is too late! Even now, while thou art losing +Thy words, one after the other are the milestones +Left fast behind by my post couriers +Who bear the order on to Prague and Egra. + +[MAX _stands as convulsed, with a gesture and_ _countenance +expressing the most intense_ _anguish_.] + +Yield thyself to it. We act as we are forced. +_I_ cannot give assent to my own shame +And ruin. _Thou_--no--thou canst not forsake me! +So let us do what must be done, with dignity, +With a firm step. What am I doing worse +Than did famed Cæsar at the Rubicon, +When he the legions led against his country, +The which his country had delivered to him? +Had he thrown down the sword he had been lost, +As I were if I but disarm'd myself. +I trace out something in me of this spirit; +Give me his luck, _that other thing_ I'll bear. + +[MAX _quits him abruptly_. WALLENSTEIN _startled and +overpowered, continues looking after him and is still in +this posture when_ TERZKY _enters_.] + + +SCENE III + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY + +TERZKY. + +Max Piccolomini just left you? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Where is Wrangel? + +TERZKY. + +He is already gone. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In such a hurry? + +TERZKY. + +It is as if the earth had swallow'd him. +He had scarce left thee when I went to seek him. +I wish'd some words with him--but he was gone. +How, when, and where, could no one tell me. Nay, +I half believe it was the devil himself; +A human creature could not so at once +Have vanish'd. + +ILLO (_enters_). + + Is it true that thou wilt send +Octavio? + +TERZKY. + + How, Octavio! Whither send him? + +WALLENST. + +He goes to Frauenburg, and will lead hither +The Spanish and Italian regiments. + +ILLO. + + No! +Nay, Heaven forbid! + +WALLENSTEIN. + +And why should Heaven forbid? + +ILLO. + +Him!--that deceiver! Wouldst thou trust to him +The soldiery? Him wilt thou let slip from thee, +Now in the very instant that decides us-- + +TERZKY. + +Thou wilt not do this--No! I pray thee, no! + +WALLENST. + +Ye are whimsical. + +ILLO. + + O but for this time, Duke, +Yield to our warning! Let him not depart. + +WALLENST. + +And why should I not trust him only this time, +Who have always trusted him? What, then, has happen'd +That I should lose my good opinion of him? +In complaisance to your whims, not my own, +I must, forsooth, give up a rooted judgment. +Think not I am a woman. Having trusted him +E'en till today, today too will I trust him. + +TERZKY. + +Must it be he--he only? Send another. + +WALLENST. + +It must be he whom I myself have chosen; +He is well fitted for the business. Therefore +I gave it him. + +ILLO. + + Because he's an Italian-- +Therefore is he well fitted for the business! + +WALLENST. + +I know you love them not--nor sire nor son-- +Because that I esteem them, love them--visibly +Esteem them, love them more than you and others. +E'en as they merit. Therefore are they eye-blights, +Thorns in your foot-path. But your jealousies, +In what affect they me or my concerns? +Are they the worse to _me_ because you hate them? +Love or hate one another as you will, +I leave to each man his own moods and likings; +Yet know the worth of each of you to me. + +ILLO. + +Von Questenberg, while he was here, was always +Lurking about with this Octavio. + +WALLENST. + +It happen'd with my knowledge and permission. + +ILLO. + +I know that secret messengers came to him +From Gallas-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That's not true. + +ILLO. + + O thou art blind, +With thy deep-seeing eyes! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Thou wilt not shake +My faith for me--my faith, which founds itself +On the profoundest science. If 'tis false, +Then the whole science of the stars is false; +For know, I have a pledge from Fate itself, +That he is the most faithful of my friends. + +ILLO. + +Hast thou a pledge, that this pledge is not false? + +WALLENST. + +There exist moments in the life of man, +When he is nearer the great Soul of the world +Than is man's custom, and possesses freely +The power of questioning his destiny: +And such a moment 'twas, when in the night +Before the action in the plains of Lützen, +Leaning against a tree, thoughts crowding thoughts, +I look'd out far upon the ominous plain. +My whole life, past and future, in this moment +Before my mind's eye glided in procession, +And to the destiny of the next morning +The spirit, fill'd with anxious presentiment, +Did knit the most removed futurity. +Then said I also to myself: "So many +Dost thou command. They follow all thy stars +And as on some great number set their All +Upon thy single head, and only man +The vessel of thy fortune. Yet a day +Will come when Destiny shall once more scatter +All these in many a several direction: +Few be they who will stand out faithful to thee." +I yearn'd to know which one was faithfullest +Of all, this camp included. Great Destiny, +Give me a sign! And he shall be the man, +Who, on the approaching morning, comes the first +To meet me with a token of his love. +And thinking this, I fell into a slumber. +Then midmost in the battle was I led +In spirit. Great the pressure and the tumult! +Then was my horse kil'd under me; I sank; +And over me away, all unconcernedly, +Drove horse and rider--and thus trod to pieces +I lay, and panted like a dying man; +Then seized me suddenly a savior arm; +It was Octavio's--I awoke at once; +'Twas broad day, and _Octavio_ stood before me. +"My brother," said he, "do not ride today +The dapple, as you're wont; but mount the horse +Which I have chosen for thee. Do it, brother! +In love to me. A strong dream warn'd me so." +It was the swiftness of his horse that snatch'd me +From the hot pursuit of Bannier's dragoons. +My cousin rode the dapple on that day, +And never more saw I of horse or rider. + +ILLO. + +That was a chance. + +WALLENSTEIN (_significantly_). + + There's no such thing as chance. +[And what to us seems merest accident +Springs from the deepest source of destiny.] +In brief, 'tis sign'd and seal'd that this Octavio +Is my good angel--and now no word more. + + [_He is retiring_.] + +TERZKY. + +This is my comfort--Max remains our hostage. + +ILLO. + +And he shall never stir from here alive. + +WALLENSTEIN (_stops and turns himself round_). + +Are ye not like the women who forever +Only recur to their first word, although +One had been talking reason by the hour! +Know that the human being's thoughts and needs +Are not like ocean billows, blindly moved. +The inner world, his microcosmus, is +The deep shaft out of which they spring eternally. +They grow by certain laws, like the tree's fruit-- +No juggling chance can metamorphose them. +Have I the human _kernel_ first examined? +Then I know, too, the future will and action. + + [_Exeunt_.] + + +SCENE IV + + +_Chamber in the residence of Piccolomini_ + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI (_attired for traveling_), AN ADJUTANT + +OCTAVIO. + +Is the detachment here? + +ADJUT. + + It awaits below. + +OCTAVIO. + +And are the soldiers trusty, Adjutant? +Say, from what regiment hast thou chosen them? + +ADJUT. From Tiefenbach's. + +OCTAVIO. + + That regiment is loyal; +Keep them in silence in the inner court, +Unseen by all, and when the signal peals +Then close the doors; keep watch upon the house, +And all ye meet be instantly arrested. + + [_Exit Adjutant_.] + +I hope indeed I shall not need their service, +So certain feel I of my well laid plans; +But when an empire's safety is at stake +'Twere better too much caution than too little. + + +SCENE V + +_A Chamber in PICCOLOMINI's Dwelling-House_. + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, ISOLANI, _entering_ + +ISOLANI. + +Here am I--Well! who comes yet of the others? + +OCTAVIO (_with an air of mystery_). + +But, first, a word with you, Count Isolani. + +ISOLANI (_assuming the same air of mystery_). + +Will it explode, ha?--Is the Duke about +To make the attempt? In me, friend, you may place +Full confidence--Nay, put me to the proof. + +OCTAVIO. + +That may happen. + +ISOLANI. + + Noble brother, I am +Not one of those men who in words are valiant, +And when it comes to action skulk away. +The Duke has acted toward me as a friend. +God knows it is so; and I owe him all-- +He may rely on my fidelity. + +OCTAVIO. + +That will be seen hereafter. + +ISOLANI. + + Be on your guard, +All think not as I think; and there are many +Who still hold with the Court--yes, and they say +That those stolen signatures bind them to nothing. + +[OCTAVIO. + +Indeed! Pray name to me the chiefs that think so. + +ISOLANI. + +Plague upon them! all the Germans think so; +Esterhazy, Kaunitz, Deodati, too, +Insist upon obedience to the Court.] + +OCTAVIO. + + I am rejoiced to hear it. + +ISOLANI. + +You rejoice + +OCTAVIO. + +That the Emperor has yet such gallant servants, +And loving friends! + +ISOLANI. + + Nay, jeer not, I entreat you. +They are no such worthless fellows, I assure you. + +OCTAVIO. + +I am assured already. God forbid +That I should jest!--In very serious earnest, +I am rejoiced to see an honest cause +So strong. + +ISOLANI. + + The Devil!--what!--Why, what means this? +Are you not, then--For what, then, am I here? + +OCTAVIO. + +That you may make full declaration, whether +You will be call'd the friend or enemy +Of the Emperor. + +ISOLANI (_with an air of defiance_). + + That declaration, friend, +I'll make to him in whom a right is placed +To put that question to me. + +OCTAVIO. + + Whether, Count, +That right is mine, this paper may, instruct you. + +ISOLANI (_stammering_). + +Why,--why--what! this is the Emperor's hand and seal! [_Reads_.] +"Whereas, the officers collectively +Throughout our army will obey the orders +Of the Lieutenant-General Piccolomini. +As from ourselves."--_Hem_--Yes! so I-- +Yes! yes!-- +I--I give you joy, Lieutenant-General! + +OCTAVIO. + +And you submit you to the order? + +ISOLANI. + + I-- +But you have taken me so by surprise-- +Time for reflection one _must_ have-- + +OCTAVIO. + + Two minutes. + +ISOLANI. + +My God! But then the case is-- + +OCTAVIO. + + Plain and simple +You must declare you, whether you determine +To act a treason 'gainst your Lord and Sovereign, +Or whether you will serve him faithfully. + +ISOLANI. + +Treason!--My God!--But who talks then of +treason? + +OCTAVIO. + +That is the case. The Prince-duke is a traitor-- +Means to lead over to the enemy +The Emperor's army.--Now, Count!--brief +and full-- +Say, will you break your oath to the Emperor? +Sell yourself to the enemy?--Say, will you? + +ISOLANI. + +What mean you? I--I break my oath, d'ye say, +To his Imperial Majesty? +Did I say so!--When, when have I said that? + +OCTAVIO. + +You have not said it yet--not yet. This instant +I wait to hear, Count, whether you _will_ say it. + +ISOLANI. + +Ay! that delights me now, that you yourself +Bear witness for me that I never said so. + +OCTAVIO. + +And you renounce the Duke then? + +ISOLANI. + + If he's planning +Treason--why, treason breaks all bonds +asunder. + +OCTAVIO. + +And are determined, too, to fight against him? + +ISOLANI. + +He has done me service--but if he's a villain, +Perdition seize him!--All scores are rubb'd off. + +OCTAVIO. + +I am rejoiced that you are so well disposed. +This night, break off in the utmost secrecy +With all the light-arm'd troops--it must appear +As came the order from the Duke himself. +At Frauenburg's the place of rendezvous; +There will Count Gallas give you further orders. + +ISOLANI. + +It shall be done.-But you'll remember me +With the Emperor--how well-disposed you +found me. + +OCTAVIO. + +I will not fail to mention it honorably. + +[_Exit_ ISOLANI. _A Servant enters_.] + +What, Colonel Butler!--Show him up. + +ISOLANI (_returning_). + +Forgive me too my bearish ways, old father! +Lord God! how should I know, then, what a great +Person I had before me. + +OCTAVIO. + No excuses! + +ISOLANI. + +I am a merry lad, and if at time +A rash word might escape me 'gainst the Court +Amidst my wine--You know no harm was +meant. + + [_Exit_.] + +OCTAVIO. + +You need not be uneasy on that score +That has succeeded. Fortune favor us +With all the others only but as much! + + +SCENE VI + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, BUTLER + +BUTLER. + +At your command, Lieutenant-General. + +OCTAVIO. + +Welcome, as honor'd friend and visitor. + +BUTLER. + +You do me too much honor. + +OCTAVIO (_after both have seated themselves_). + + You have not +Return'd the advances which I made you yesterday-- +Misunderstood them as mere empty forms. +That wish proceeded from my heart--I was +In earnest with you--for 'tis now a time +In which the honest should unite most closely. + +BUTLER. + +'Tis only the like-minded can unite. + +OCTAVIO. + +True! and I name all honest men like-minded. +I never charge a man but with those acts +To which his character deliberately +Impels him; for alas! the violence +Of blind misunderstandings often thrusts +The very best of us from the right track. +You came through Frauenburg. Did the Count Gallas +Say nothing to you? Tell me. He's my friend. + +BUTLER. + +His words were lost on _me_. + +OCTAVIO. + + It grieves me sorely, +To hear it: for his counsel was most wise. +I had myself the like to offer. + +BUTLER. + + Spare +Yourself the trouble--me th' embarrassment, +To have deserved so ill your good opinion. + +OCTAVIO. + +The time is precious--let us talk openly. +You know how matters stand here. Wallenstein +Meditates treason--I can tell you further, +He has committed treason; but few hours +Have past since he a covenant concluded +With the enemy. The messengers are now +Full on their way to Egra and to Prague. +Tomorrow he intends to lead us over +To the enemy. But he deceives himself; +For Prudence wakes--The Emperor has still +Many and faithful friends here, and they stand +In closest union, mighty though unseen. +This manifesto sentences the Duke-- +Recalls the obedience of the army from him, +And summons all the loyal, all the honest, +To join and recognize in me their leader. +Choose--will you share with us an honest cause? +Or with the evil share an evil lot? + +BUTLER (_rises_). + +His lot is mine. + +OCTAVIO. + + Is that your last resolve? + +BUTLER. + +It is. + +OCTAVIO. + + Nay, but bethink you, Colonel Butler! +As yet you have time. Within my faithful breast +That rashly utter'd word remains interr'd. +Recall it, Butler! choose a better party; +You have not chosen the right one. + +BUTLER (_going_). + + Any other +Commands for me, Lieutenant-General? + +OCTAVIO. + +See your white hairs: recall that word! + +BUTLER. + +Farewell! + +OCTAVIO. + +What! Would you draw this good and gallant sword +In such a cause? Into a curse would you +Transform the gratitude which you have earn'd +By forty years' fidelity from Austria? + +BUTLER (_laughing with bitterness_). + +Gratitude from the House of Austria! + + [He is going.] + +OCTAVIO (_permits him to go as far as the door, then calls after him_). + +Butler! + +BUTLER. + + What wish you? + +OCTAVIO. + + How was't with the Count? + +BUTLER. + +Count? what? + +OCTAVIO (_coldly_). + + The title that you wish'd, I mean. + +BUTLER (_starts in sudden passion_). + +Hell and damnation! + +OCTAVIO (_coldly_). + + You petition'd for it-- +And your petition was repelled--Was it so? + +BUTLER. + +Your insolent scoff shall not go by unpunish'd. +Draw! + +OCTAVIO. + +Nay! your sword to 'ts sheath! and tell me calmly, +How all that happen'd. I will not refuse you +Your satisfaction afterward. Calmly, Butler! + +BUTLER. + +Be the whole world acquainted with the weakness +For which I never can forgive myself. +Lieutenant-General! Yes; I have ambition. +Ne'er was I able to endure contempt. +It stung me to the quick, that birth and title +Should have more weight than merit has in the army. +I would fain not be meaner than my equal, +So in an evil hour I let myself +Be tempted to that measure. It was folly! +But yet so hard a penance it deserved not. +It might have been refused; but wherefore barb +And venom the refusal with contempt? +Why dash to earth and crush with heaviest scorn +The gray-hair'd man, the faithful veteran? +Why to the baseness of his parentage +Refer him with such cruel roughness, only +Because he had a weak hour and forgot himself? +But nature gives a sting e'en to the worm +Which wanton Power treads on in sport and +insult. + +OCTAVIO. + +You must have been calumniated. Guess you +The enemy who did you this ill service? + +BUTLER. + +Be't who it will--a most low-hearted scoundrel! +Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard, +Some young squire of some ancient family, +In whose light I may stand; some envious knave, +Stung to his soul by my fair self-earn'd honors! + +OCTAVIO. + +But tell me, did the Duke approve that measure? + +BUTLER. + +Himself impell'd me to it, used his interest +In my behalf with all the warmth of friendship. + +OCTAVIO. + +Ay? are you sure of that? + +BUTLER. + + I read the letter. + +OCTAVIO. + +And so did I--but the contents were different. +[BUTLER _is suddenly struck_.] + +By chance I'm in possession of that letter-- +Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you. + + [_He gives him the letter_.] + +BUTLER. + +Ha! what is this? + +OCTAVIO. + + I fear me, Colonel Butler, +An infamous game have they been playing with you. +The Duke, you say, impell'd you to this measure? +Now, in this letter, talks he in contempt +Concerning you; counsels the minister +To give sound chastisement to your conceit, +For so he calls it. + +[BUTLER _reads through the letter; his knees tremble, he +seizes a chair, and sinks down in it_.] + +You have no enemy, no persecutor; +There's no one wishes ill to you. Ascribe +The insult you received to the Duke only. +His aim is clear and palpable. He wish'd +To tear you from your Emperor: he hoped +To gain from your revenge what he well knew +(What your long-tried fidelity convinced him) +He ne'er could dare expect from your calm reason. +A blind tool would he make you, in contempt +Use you, as means of most abandoned ends. +He has gained his point. Too well has he succeeded +In luring you away from that good path +On which you had been journeying forty years! + +BUTLER _(his voice trembling)_. + +Can e'er the Emperor's Majesty forgive me? + +OCTAVIO. + +More than forgive you. He would fain compensate +For that affront, and most unmerited grievance +Sustain'd by a deserving gallant veteran. +From his free impulse he confirms the present, +Which the Duke made you for a wicked purpose. +The regiment, which you now command, is yours. + +[BUTLER attempts to rise, sinks down again. He labors +inwardly with violent emotions; tries to speak, and cannot. +At length he takes his sword from the belt, and offers it to +PICCOLOMINI.] + +OCTAVIO. + +What wish you? Recollect yourself, friend. + +BUTLER. + + Take it. + +OCTAVIO. + +But to what purpose? Calm yourself. + +BUTLER. + + O take it! +I am no longer worthy of this sword. + +OCTAVIO. + +Receive it then anew, from my hands--and +Wear it with honor for the right cause ever. + +BUTLER. + +Perjure myself to such a gracious Sovereign! + +OCTAVIO. + +You'll make amends. Quick! break off from the Duke! + +BUTLER. + +Break off from him! + +OCTAVIO. + + What now? Bethink thyself. + +BUTLER (_no longer governing his emotion_). + +Only break off from him? He dies! he dies! + +OCTAVIO. + +Come after me to Frauenburg, where now +All who are loyal are assembling under +Counts Altringer and Gallas. Many others +I've brought to a remembrance of their duty: +This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen. + +BUTLER (_strides up and down in excessive agitation, then +steps up to_ OCTAVIO _with resolved countenance_). + +Count Piccolomini! dare that man speak +Of honor to you, who once broke his troth. + +OCTAVIO. + +He, who repents so deeply of it, dares. + +BUTLER. + +Then leave me here upon my word of honor! + +OCTAVIO. + +What's your design? + +BUTLER. + + Leave me and my regiment. + +OCTAVIO. + +I have full confidence in you. But tell me +What are you brooding? + +BUTLER. + +That the deed will tell you. +Ask me no more at present. Trust to me. +Ye may trust safely. By the living God +Ye give him over, not to his good angel! +Farewell. + + [_Exit_ BUTLER.] + +SERVANT (_enters with a billet_). + + A stranger left it, and is gone. +The Prince Duke's horses wait for you below. + + [_Exit_ SERVANT.] + +OCTAVIO (_reads_). + +"Be sure make haste! Your faithful Isolan." +--O that I had but left this town behind me. +To split upon a rock so near the haven!--Away! +This is no longer a safe place +For me! Where can my son be tarrying! + + +SCENE VII + +OCTAVIO and MAX PICCOLOWINI + +[MAX _enters almost in a state of derangement, from extreme +agitation; his eyes roll wildly, his walk is_ _unsteady, +and he appears not to observe his father, who stands at a +distance, and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of +compassion. He paces with long strides through the chamber, +then stands still again, and at last throws himself into a +chair, staring vacantly at the object directly before him_.] + + +OCTAVIO (_advances to him_). + + I am going off, my son. + + [_Receiving no answer, he takes his hand_.] + + My son, farewell. + +MAX. + +Farewell. + +OCTAVIO. + + Thou wilt soon follow me? + +MAX. + + I follow thee? +Thy way is crooked--it is not my way. + +[OCTAVIO _drops his hand, and starts back_.] + +O, hadst thou been but simple and sincere, +Ne'er had it come to this--all had stood otherwise. +He had not done that foul and horrible deed, +The virtuous had retain'd their influence o'er him: +He had not fallen into the snares of villains. +Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice +Didst creep behind him, lurking for thy prey! +O, unblest falsehood! Mother of all evil! +Thou misery-making demon, it is thou +That sink'st us in perdition. Simple truth, +Sustainer of the world, have saved us all! +Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee! +Wallenstein has deceived me--O, most foully! +But thou hast acted not much better. + +OCTAVIO. + + Son! +My son, ah! I forgive thy agony! + +MAX. (_rises and contemplates his father with looks of +suspicion_). + +Was't possible? hadst thou the heart, my father, +Hadst thou the heart to drive it to such lengths, +With cold premeditated purpose? Thou-- +Hadst thou the heart to wish to see him guilty +Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall. +Octavio, 'twill not please me. + +OCTAVIO. + + God in heaven! + +MAX. + +O, woe is me! sure I have changed my nature. +How comes suspicion here--in the free soul? +Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all +Lied to me, all that I e'er loved or honored. +No, no! not all! She--she yet lives for me, +And she is true, and open as the heavens! +Deceit is everywhere, hypocrisy, +Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury: +The single holy spot is our love, +The only unprofaned in human nature. + +OCTAVIO. + +Max!--we will go together. 'Twill be better. + +MAX. + +What? ere I've taken a last parting leave, +The very last--no, never! + +OCTAVIO. + + Spare thyself +The pang of necessary separation. +Come with me! Come, my son! + +[_Attempts to take him with him._] + +MAX. + +No! as sure as God lives, no! + +OCTAVIO (_more urgently_). + +Come with me, I command thee! I, thy father. + +MAX. + +Command me what is human. I stay here. + +OCTAVIO. + +Max! in the Emperor's name I bid thee come. + +MAX. + +No Emperor has power to prescribe +Laws to the heart; and wouldst thou wish to rob me +Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me, +Her sympathy? Must then a cruel deed +Be done with cruelty? The unalterable +Shall I perform ignobly--steal away, +With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No! +She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish, +Hear the complaints of the disparted soul, +And weep tears o'er me. Oh! the human race +Have steely souls--but she is as an angel. +From the black deadly madness of despair +Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words +Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death! + +OCTAVIO. + +Thou wilt not tear thyself away; thou canst not. +O, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue. + +MAX. + +Squander not thou thy words in vain. +The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it. + +OCTAVIO (_trembling, and losing all self command_). + +Max! Max! if that most damned thing could be, +If thou--my son--my own blood--dare I _think_ it? +Do sell thyself to him, the infamous, +Do stamp this brand upon our noble house, +Then shall the world behold the horrible deed +And in unnatural combat shall the steel +Of the son trickle with the father's blood. + +MAX. + +O hadst thou always better thought of men +Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion, +Unholy, miserable doubt! To him +Nothing on earth remains unwrench'd and firm, +Who has no faith. + +OCTAVIO. + + And if I trust thy heart, +Will it be always in thy power to follow it? + +MAX. + +The heart's voice _thou_ hast not o'erpowered--as little +Will Wallenstein be able to o'erpower it. + +OCTAVIO. + +O, Max! I see thee never more again! + +MAX. + +Unworthy of thee wilt thou never see me. + +OCTAVIO. + +I go to Frauenburg--the Pappenheimers +I leave thee here, the Lothrings too; Tsokans +And Tiefenbach remain here to protect thee. +They love thee, and are faithful to their oath, +And will far rather fall in gallant contest +Than leave their rightful leader, and their honor. + +MAX. + +Rely on this, I either leave my life +In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen. + +OCTAVIO. + +Farewell, my son! + +MAX. + + Farewell! + +OCTAVIO. + + How! not one look +Of filial love? No grasp of the hand at parting? +It is a bloody war to which we are going, +And the event uncertain and in darkness. +So used we not to part--it was not so! +Is it then true? I have a son no longer? + + +[MAX _falls into his arms, they hold each other for a long +time in a speechless embrace, then go away at different +sides_.] + +[_The Curtain drops_.] + + * * * * * + + + +ACT III + + +SCENE I + +_A Chamber in the House of the Duchess of Friedland_ + +COUNTESS TERZKY, THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN (_the two latter sit +at the same table at work_) + + +COUNTESS (_watching them from the opposite side_). + +So you have nothing to ask me--nothing? +I have been waiting for a word from you. +And could you then endure in all this time +Not once to speak his name? + +[THEKLA _remaining silent, the_ COUNTESS _rises and advances +to her_.] + + Why, how comes this! +Perhaps I am already grown superfluous, +And other ways exist, besides through me? +Confess it to me, Thekla: have you seen him? + +THEKLA. + +Today and yesterday I have not seen him. + +COUNTESS. + +And not heard from him, either? Come, be open. + +THEKLA. + +No syllable. + +COUNTESS. + + And still you are so calm? + +THEKLA. + +I am. + +COUNTESS. + +May 't please you, leave us, Lady Neubrunn. + [_Exit_ LADY NEUBRUNN.] + + +SCENE II + +_The_ COUNTESS, THEKLA + +COUNTESS. + +It does not please me, Princess, that he holds +Himself so _still_, exactly at _this_ time. + +THEKLA. + +Exactly at _this_ time? + +COUNTESS. + + He now knows all: +'Twere now the moment to declare himself. + +THEKLA. + +If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly. + +COUNTESS. + +'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us. +Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart +Is now no more in nonage: for you love, +And boldness dwells with love--that _you_ have proved +Your nature molds itself upon your father's +More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you +Hear, what were too much for her fortitude. + +THEKLA. + +Enough: no further preface, I entreat you. +At once, out with it! Be it what it may, +It is not possible that it should torture me +More than this introduction. What have you +To say to me? Tell me the whole, and briefly! + +COUNTESS. + +You'll not be frighten'd-- + +THEKLA. + + Name it, I entreat you. + +COUNTESS. + +It lies within your power to do your father +A weighty service-- + +THEKLA. + + Lies within _my_ power? + +COUNTESS. + +Max Piccolomini loves you. You can link him +Indissolubly to your father. + +THEKLA. + + I? +What need of me for that? And is he not +Already link'd to him? + +COUNTESS. + + He was. + +THEKLA. + + And wherefore +Should he not be so now--not be so always? + +COUNTESS. + +He cleaves to the Emperor too. + +THEKLA. + + Not more than duty +And honor may demand of him. + +COUNTESS. + + We ask +Proofs of his love, and not proofs of his honor. +Duty and honor! +Those are ambiguous words with many meanings. +_You_ should interpret them for him: his love +Should be the sole definer of his honor. + +THEKLA. + +How? + +COUNTESS. + +The Emperor or you must he renounce. + +THEKLA. + +He will accompany my father gladly +In his retirement. From himself you heard, +How much he wish'd to lay aside the sword. + +COUNTESS. + +He must _not_ lay the sword aside, we mean; +He must unsheath it in your father's cause. + +THEKLA. + +He'll spend with gladness and alacrity +His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause, +If shame or injury be intended him. + +COUNTESS. + +You will not understand me. Well, hear then:-- +Your father has fallen off from the Emperor, +And is about to join the enemy +With the whole soldiery-- + +THEKLA. + +Alas, my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +There needs a great example to draw on +The army after him. The Piccolomini +Possess the love and reverence of the troops; +They govern all opinions, and wherever +They lead the way none hesitate to follow. +The son secures the father to our interests-- +You've much in your hands at this moment. + +THEKLA. + +Ah! +My miserable mother! what a death-stroke +Awaits thee!--No! she never will survive it. + +COUNTESS. + +She will accommodate her soul to that +Which is and must be. I do know your mother; +The far-off future weighs upon her heart +With torture of anxiety; but is it +Unalterably, actually present, +She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly. + +THEKLA. + +O my foreboding bosom! Even now, +E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror! +And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp; +I knew it well--no sooner had I enter'd, +An heavy ominous presentiment +Reveal'd to me that spirits of death were hovering +Over my happy fortune. But why think I +First of myself? My mother! O my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +Calm yourself! Break not out in vain lamenting! +Preserve you for your father the firm friend, +And for yourself the lover, all will yet +Prove good and fortunate. + +THEKLA. + + Prove good! What good? +Must we not part?--part ne'er to meet again? + +COUNTESS. + +He parts not from you! He cannot part from you. + +THEKLA. + +Alas for his sore anguish! It will rend +His heart asunder. + +COUNTESS. + + If indeed he loves you, +His resolution will be speedily taken. + +THEKLA. + +His resolution will be speedily taken-- +O do not doubt of that! A resolution! +Does there remain one to be taken? + +COUNTESS. + + Hush, +Collect yourself! I hear your mother coming. + +THEKLA. + +How shall I bear to see her? + +COUNTESS. + + Collect yourself. + + +SCENE III + +_To them enter the DUCHESS_ + + +DUCHESS (_to the COUNTESS_). + +Who was here, sister? I heard someone talking, +And passionately too. + +COUNTESS. + + Nay! there was no one. + +DUCHESS. + +I am grown so timorous, every trifling noise +Scatters my spirits, and announces to me +The footstep of some messenger of evil. +And you can tell me, sister, what the event is? +Will he agree to do the Emperor's pleasure, +And send the horse-regiments to the Cardinal? +Tell me, has he dismiss'd Von Questenberg +With a favorable answer? + +COUNTESS. + + No, he has not. + +DUCHESS. + +Alas! then all is lost! I see it coming, +The worst that can come! Yes, they will depose him; +The accursed business of the Regensburg diet +Will all be acted o'er again! + +COUNTESS. + + No! never! +Make your heart easy, sister, as to that. + +[THEKLA, _in extreme agitation, throws herself upon her +mother, and enfolds her in her arms, weeping_.] + + +DUCHESS. + +Yes, my poor child! +Thou too hast lost a most affectionate godmother +In the Empress. O that stern unbending man! +In this unhappy marriage what have I +Not suffer'd, not endured? For even as if +I had been link'd on to some wheel of fire +That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onward, +I have pass'd a life of frights and horrors with him, +And ever to the brink of some abyss +With dizzy headlong violence he bears me. +Nay, do not weep, my child. Let not my sufferings +Presignify unhappiness to thee, +Nor blacken with their shade the fate that waits thee. +There lives no second Friedland: thou, my child, +Hast not to fear thy mother's destiny. + +THEKLA. + +O let us supplicate him, dearest mother! +Quick! quick! here's no abiding place for us. +Here every coming hour broods into life +Some new affrightful monster. + +DUCHESS. + + Thou wilt share +An easier, calmer lot, my child! We too, +I and thy father, witnessed happy days. +Still think I with delight of those first years, +When he was making progress with glad effort, +When his ambition was a genial fire, +Not that consuming flame which now it is. +The Emperor loved him, trusted him: and all +He undertook could not but be successful. +But since that ill-starr'd day at Regensburg, +Which plunged him headlong from his dignity, +A gloomy uncompanionable spirit, +Unsteady and suspicious, has possess'd him. +His quiet mind forsook him, and no longer +Did he yield up himself in joy and faith +To his old luck and individual power; +But thenceforth turn'd his heart and best affections +All to those cloudy sciences, which never +Have yet made happy him who follow'd them. + +COUNTESS. + +You see it, sister, as your eyes permit you, +But surely this is not the conversation +To pass the time in which we are waiting for him. +You know he will be soon here. Would you have him +Find _her_ in this condition? + +DUCHESS. + + Come, my child! +Come wipe away thy tears, and show thy father +A cheerful countenance. See, the tie-knot here +Is off--this hair must not hang so dishevell'd. +Come, dearest! dry thy tears up. They deform +Thy gentle eye.--Well now--what was I saying? +Yes, in good truth, this Piccolomini +Is a most noble and deserving gentleman. + +COUNTESS. + +That is he, sister! + +THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS, _with marks of great oppression +of spirits_). + + Aunt, you will excuse me? + + [_Is going_.] + +COUNTESS. + +But whither? See, your father comes. + +THEKLA. + +I cannot see him now. + +COUNTESS. + + Nay, but bethink you. + +THEKLA. + +Believe me, I cannot sustain his presence. + +COUNTESS. + +But he will miss you, will ask after you. + +DUCHESS. + +What now? Why is she going? + +COUNTESS. + + She's not well. + +DUCHESS (_anxiously_). + +What ails then my beloved child? + + +[_Both follow the_ PRINCESS, _and endeavor to detain her. +During this_ WALLENSTEIN _appears, engaged in conversation +with_ ILLO.] + + +SCENE IV + +WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA + + +WALLENST. + +All quiet in the camp? + +ILLO. + + It is all quiet. + +WALLENST. + +In a few hours may couriers come from Prague +With tidings that this capital is ours. +Then we may drop the mask, and to the troops +Assembled in this town make known the measure +And its result together. In such cases +Example does the whole. Whoever is foremost +Still leads the herd. An imitative creature +Is man. The troops at Prague conceive no other +Than that the Pilsen army has gone through +The forms of homage to us; and in Pilsen +They shall swear fealty to us, because +The example has been given them by Prague. +Butler, you tell me, has declared himself? + +ILLO. + +At his own bidding, unsolicited, +He came to offer you himself and regiment. + +WALLENST. + +I find we must not give implicit credence +To every warning voice that makes itself +Be listen'd to in the heart. To hold us back, +Oft does the lying Spirit counterfeit +The voice of Truth and inward Revelation, +Scattering false oracles. And thus have I +To entreat forgiveness, for that secretly +I've wrong'd this honorable, gallant man, +This Butler: for a feeling, of the which +I am not master (_fear_ I would not call it), +Creeps o'er me instantly, with sense of shuddering +At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion. +And this same man, against whom I am warn'd, +This honest man is he, who reaches to me +The first pledge of my fortune. + +ILLO. + + And doubt not +That his example will win over to you +The best men in the army. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Go and send +Isolani hither. Send him immediately; +He is under recent obligations to me: +With him will I commence the trial. Go. + + [_Exit_ ILLO.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_turns himself round to the females_). + +Lo, there the mother with the darling daughter +For once we'll have an interval of rest--Come! +my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour +In the beloved circle of my family. + +COUNTESS. + +'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS _aside_). + +Can she sustain the news? Is she prepared? + +COUNTESS. + +Not yet. + +WALLENST. + + Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me. +For there is a good spirit on thy lips. +Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill; +She says a voice of melody dwells in thee, +Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice +Will drive away from me the evil demon +That beats his black wings close above my head. + +DUCHESS. + +Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father +Hear some small trial of thy skill. + +THEKLA. + + My mother! +I-- + +DUCHESS. + +Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer +father. + +THEKLA. + +O my mother! I--I cannot. + +COUNTESS. + +How, what is that, niece? + +THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS). + +O spare me--sing--now--in this sore anxiety, +Of the o'erburthen'd soul--to sing to _him_, +Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong +Into her grave. + +DUCHESS. + +How, Thekla! Humorsome! +What! shall thy father have express'd a wish +In vain? + +COUNTESS. + +Here is the lute. + +THEKLA. + +My God! how can I-- + +[_The orchestra plays. During the ritornello_ THEKLA +_expresses in her gestures and countenance the struggle of +her feelings; and at the moment that she should begin to +sing, contracts herself together, as one shuddering, throws +the instrument down, and retires abruptly_.] + +DUCHESS. My child! O she is ill-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What ails the maiden? +Say, is she often so? + +COUNTESS. + + Since then herself +Has now betray'd it, I too must no longer +Conceal it. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +What? + +COUNTESS. + + She loves him! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Loves him! Whom? + +COUNTESS. + +Max does she love! Max Piccolomini. +Hast thou ne'er noticed it? Nor yet my sister? + +DUCHESS. + +Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart? +God's blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou need'st +Never take shame upon thee for thy choice. + +COUNTESS. + +This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it +To thine own self. Thou shouldst have chosen another +To have attended her. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + And does he know it? + +COUNTESS. + +Yes, and he hopes to win her! + +WALLENSTEIN. Hopes to win her! +Is the boy mad? + +COUNTESS. + + Well--hear it from themselves. + +WALLENST. + +He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland's daughter! +Ay?--The thought pleases me. +The young man has no groveling spirit. + +COUNTESS. + + Since +Such and such constant favor you have shown him-- + +WALLENST. + +He chooses finally to be my heir. +And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honor him. +But must he therefore be my daughter's husband? +Is it daughters only? Is it only children +That we must show our favor by? + +DUCHESS. + +His noble disposition and his manners-- + +WALLENST. + +Win him my heart, but not my daughter. + +DUCHESS. + + Then +His rank, his ancestors-- + +WALLENSTETN. + + Ancestors! What? +He is a subject, and my son-in-law +I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe. + +DUCHESS. + +O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high +Lest we should fall too low. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What! have I paid +A price so heavy to ascend this eminence, +And jut out high above the common herd, +Only to close the mighty part I play +In Life's great drama, with a common kinsman? +Have I for this-- + +[_Stops suddenly, repressing himself_.] + + She is the only thing +That will remain behind of me on earth; +And I will see a crown around her head, +Or die in the attempt to place it there. +I hazard all--all! and for this alone, +To lift her into greatness--Yea, +in this moment, in the which we are +speaking-- + +[_He recollects himself_.] + +And I must now, like a soft-hearted father, +Couple together in good peasant-fashion +The pair, that chance to suit each other's liking-- +And I must do it now, even now, when I +Am stretching out the wreath that is to twine +My full accomplish'd work--no! she is the jewel, +Which I have treasured long, my last, my noblest, +And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me +For less than a king's sceptre. + +DUCHESS. + + O my husband! +You're ever building, building to the clouds, +Still building higher, and still higher building, +And ne'er reflect that the poor narrow basis +Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS). + +Have you announced the place of residence +Which I have destined for her? + +COUNTESS. + + No! not yet. +'Twere better you yourself disclosed it to her. + +DUCHESS. + +How? Do we not return to Carinthia then? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + No. + +DUCHESS. + +And to no other of your lands or seats? + +WALLENST. + +You would not be secure there. + +DUCHESS. + + Not secure +In the Emperor's realms, beneath the Emperor's +Protection? + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Friedland's wife may be permitted +No longer to hope _that_. + +DUCHESS. + + O God in heaven! +And have you brought it even to this! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In Holland +You'll find protection. + +DUCHESS. + +In a Lutheran country? +What? And you send us into Lutheran countries? + +WALLENST. + + Duke Franz of Lauenburg conducts you thither. + +DUCHESS. + +Duke Franz of Lauenburg? +The ally of Sweden, the Emperor's enemy. + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor's enemies are mine no longer. + +DUCHESS (_casting a look of terror on the_ DUKE _and the_ +COUNTESS). + +Is it then true? It is. You are degraded-- +Deposed from the command! O God in heaven! + +COUNTESS (_aside to the_ DUKE). + +Leave her in this belief. Thou seest she cannot +Support the real truth. + + +SCENE V + + +_To them enter_ COUNT TERZKY. + +COUNTESS. + + --Terzky! +What ails him? What an image of affright! +He looks as he had seen a ghost. + +TERZKY (_leading_ WALLENSTEIN _aside_). + +Is it thy command that all the Croats-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Mine. + +TERZKY. + +We are betray'd. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What? + +TERZKY. + + They are off! This night +The Jägers likewise--all the villages +In the whole round are empty. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Isolani! + +TERZKY. + +Him thou hast sent away. Yes, surely. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I? + +TERZKY. + +No! Hast thou not sent him off? Nor Deodati? +They are vanish'd both of them. + + +SCENE VI + +_To them enter_ ILLO. + +ILLO. + +Has Terzky told thee? + +TERZKY. + + He knows all. + +ILLO. + + And likewise +That Esterhatzy, Goetz, Maradas, Kaunitz, +Kolalto, Palfi, have forsaken thee. + +TERZKY. + +Damnation! + +WALLENSTEIN (_winks at them_). + + Hush! + +COUNTESS (_who has been watching them anxiously from the +distance and now advances to them_). + +Terzky! Heaven! What is it? What has happen'd? + +WALLENSTEIN (_scarcely suppressing his emotions_). + +Nothing! let us be gone! + +TERZKY (_following him_). + + Theresa, it is nothing. + +COUNTESS (_holding him back_). + +Nothing? Do I not see that all the life-blood +Has left your cheeks--look you not like a ghost? +That even my brother but affects a calmness? + +PAGE (_enters_). + +An Aide-de-camp inquires for the Count Terzky. + + [TERZKY _follows the_ PAGE.] + +WALLENST. Go, hear his business. + + [_To_ ILLO.] + + This could not have happen'd +So unsuspected without mutiny. +Who was on guard at the gates? + +ILLO. + + 'Twas Tiefenbach. + +WALLENST. + +Let Tiefenbach leave guard without delay, +And Terzky's grenadiers relieve him. + + [ILLO _is going_.] + + Stop! +Hast thou heard aught of Butler? + +ILLO. + + Him I met; + +He will be here himself immediately. +Butler remains unshaken. + + [ILLO _exit_. WALLENSTEIN _is following him_.] + +COUNTESS. + +Let him not leave thee, sister! go, detain him! +There's some misfortune. + +DUCHESS (_clinging to him_). + +Gracious Heaven! What is it? + +WALLENST. + +Be tranquil! leave me, sister! dearest wife! +We are in camp, and this is nought unusual; +Here storm and sunshine follow one another +With rapid interchanges. These fierce spirits +Champ the curb angrily, and never yet +Did quiet bless the temples of the leader. +If I am to stay, go you. The plaints of women +Ill suit the scene where men must act. + + [_He is going_. TERZHY _returns_.] + +TERZHY. + +Remain here. From this window must we see it. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS). + + Sister, retire! + +COUNTESS. + + No--never. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +'Tis my will. + +TERZKY (_leads the_ COUNTESS _aside, and drawing her +attention to the_ DUCHESS). + +Theresa? + +DUCHESS. + + Sister, come! since he commands it. + + +SCENE VII + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY + + +WALLENSTEIN (_stepping to the window_). + +What now, then? + +TERZKY. + +There are strange movements among all the troops, +And no one knows the cause. Mysteriously, +With gloomy silentness, the several corps +Marshal themselves, each under its own banners. +Tiefenbach's corps make threat'ning movements; only +The Pappenheimers still remain aloof +In their own quarters, and let no one enter. + +WALLENST. + +Does Piccolomini appear among them? + +TERZKY. + +We are seeking him: he is nowhere to be met with. + +WALLENST. + +What did the Aide-de-camp deliver to you? + +TERZKY. + +My regiments had dispatch'd him; yet once more +They swear fidelity to thee, and wait +The shout for onset, all prepared, and eager. + +WALLENST. + +But whence arose this larum in the camp? +It should have been kept secret from the army, +Till fortune had decided for us at Prague. + +TERZKY. + +O that thou hadst believed me! Yester evening +Did we conjure thee not to let that skulker, +That fox, Octavio, pass the gates of Pilsen. +Thou gavest him thy own horses to flee from thee. + +WALLENST. + +The old tune still! Now, once for all, no more +Of this suspicion--it is doting folly. + +TERZKY. + +Thou didst confide in Isolani too; +And lo! he was the first that did desert thee. + +WALLENST. + +It was but yesterday I rescued him +From abject wretchedness. Let that go by; +I never reckon'd yet on gratitude. +And wherein doth he wrong in going from me? +He follows still the god whom all his life +He has worship'd at the gaming-table. With +My fortune, and my seeming destiny, +He made the bond, and broke it not with me. +I am but the ship in which his hopes were stow'd +And with the which, well-pleased and confident, +He traversed the open sea; now he beholds it +In eminent jeopardy among the coast-rocks, +And hurries to preserve his wares. As light +As the free bird from the hospitable twig +Where it had nested, he flies off from me: +No human tie is snapp'd betwixt us two. +Yea, he deserves to find himself deceived +Who seeks a heart in the unthinking man. +Like shadows on a stream, the forms of life +Impress their characters on the smooth forehead, +Nought sinks into the bosom's silent depth; +Quick sensibility of pain and pleasure +Moves the light fluids lightly; but no soul +Warmeth the inner frame. + +TERZKY. + + Yet, would I rather +Trust the smooth brow than that deep furrow'd one. + + +SCENE VIII + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, ILLO + + +ILLO (_who enters agitated with rage_). + +Treason and mutiny! + +TERZKY. + + And what further now? + +ILLO. + +Tiefenbach's soldiers, when I gave the orders, +To go off guard--Mutinous villains! + +TERZKY. + + Well! + +WALLENST. + +What followed? + +ILLO. + + They refused obedience to them. + +TERZKY. + +Fire on them instantly! Give out the order. + +WALLENST. + +Gently! what cause did they assign? + +ILLO. + + No other, +They said, had right to issue orders but +Lieutenant-General _Piccolomini_. + +WALLENSTEIN (_in a convulsion of agony_). + +What? How is that? + +ILLO. + +He takes that office on him by commission, +Under sign-manual of the Emperor. + +TERZKY. + +From the Emperor--hear'st thou, Duke? + +ILLO. + + At his incitement +The Generals made that stealthy flight-- + +TERZKY. + + Duke! hear'st thou? + +ILLO. + +Caraffa too, and Montecuculi, +Are missing, with six other generals, +All whom he had induced to follow him. +This plot he has long had in writing by him +From the Emperor; but 'twas finally concluded, +With all the detail of the operation, +Some days ago with the Envoy Questenberg. + +[WALLENSTEIN _sinks down into a chair and covers his face_.] + +TERZKY. + +O hadst thou but believed me! + + +SCENE IX + +_To them enter the_ COUNTESS + + +COUNTESS. + + This suspense, +This horrid fear--I can no longer bear it. +For heaven's sake tell me what has taken place? + +ILLO. + +The regiments are all falling off from us. + +TERZKY. + +Octavio Piccolomini is a traitor. + +COUNTESS. + +O my foreboding! [_Rushes out of the room_.] + +TERZKY. + + Hadst thou but believed me! +Now seest thou how the stars have lied to thee. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN HEARS OF OCTAVIO'S TREASON As +performed at the Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + +WALLENST. + +The stars lie not; but we have here a work +Wrought counter to the stars and destiny. +The science is still honest: this false heart +Forces a lie on the truth-telling heaven. +On a divine law divination rests; +Where nature deviates from that law, and stumbles +Out of her limits, there all science errs. +True I did not suspect! Were it superstition +Never by such suspicion t' have affronted +The human form, O may that time ne'er come +In which I shame me of the infirmity. +The wildest savage drinks not with the victim, +Into whose breast he means to plunge the sword. +This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed: +'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine; +A bad heart triumph'd o'er an honest one. +No shield received the assassin stroke; thou plungest +Thy weapon on an unprotected breast-- +Against such weapons I am but a child. + + + +SCENE X + +_To these enter_ BUTLER + + +TERZKY (_meeting him_). + +O look there! Butler! Here we've still a friend! + +WALLENSTEIN (_meets him with outspread arms, and embraces +him with warmth_). + +Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun +Looks out upon us more revivingly +In the earliest month of spring, +Than a friend's countenance in such an hour. + +BUTLER. + +My General: I come-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_leaning on_ BUTLER's _shoulder_). + + Know'st thou already? +That old man has betray'd me to the Emperor. +What say'st thou? Thirty years have we together +Lived out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship. +We have slept in one camp-bed, drunk from one glass, +One morsel shared! I lean'd myself on _him_, +As now I lean me on _thy_ faithful shoulder. +And now in the very moment, when, all love, +All confidence, my bosom beat to his, +He sees and takes the advantage, stabs the knife +Slowly into my heart. + + [_He hides his face on_ BUTLER'S _breast_.] + +BUTLER. + + Forget the false one. +What is your present purpose? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well remember'd! +Courage, my soul! I am still rich in friends, +Still loved by Destiny; for in the moment +That it unmasks the plotting hypocrite, +It sends and proves to me one faithful heart. +Of the hypocrite no more! Think not his loss +Was that which struck the pang: O no! his treason +Is that which strikes this pang! No more of him! +Dear to my heart and honor'd were they both, +And the young man--yes--he did truly love me, +He--he--has not deceived me. But enough, +Enough of this--swift counsel now beseems us. +The Courier, whom Count Kinsky sent from Prague, +I expect him every moment: and whatever +He may bring with him, we must take good care +To keep it from the mutineers. Quick then! +Dispatch some messenger you can rely on +To meet him and conduct him to me. + + [ILLO _is going_.] + +BUTLER (_detaining him_). + +My General, whom expect you then? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + The Courier +Who brings me word of the event at Prague. + +BUTLER (_hesitating_). + +Hem! + +WALLENST. + + And what now? + +BUTLER. + + You do not know it? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well? + +BUTLER. + +From what that larum in the camp arose? + +WALLENST. + +From what? + +BUTLER. + +That Courier-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_with eager expectation_). + + Well? + +BUTLER. + + Is already here. + +TERZKY and ILLO (_at the same time_). + +Already here? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + My Courier? + +BUTLER. + + For some hours. + +WALLENST. + +And I not know it? + +BUTLER. + + The sentinels detained him +In custody. + +ILLO (_stamping with his foot_). + Damnation! + +BUTLER. + + And his letter +Was broken open, and is circulated +Through the whole camp. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + You know what it contains? + +BUTLER. + +Question me not! + +TERZKY. + + Illo, alas for us! + +WALLENST. + +Hide nothing from me--I can hear the worst. +Prague then is lost? It is! Confess it freely. + +BUTLER. + +Yes! Prague is lost. And all the several regiments +At Budweiss, Tabor, Braunau, Königingratz, +At Brunn and Zanaym, have forsaken you, +And ta'en oaths of fealty anew +To the Emperor. Yourself, with Kinsky, Terzky, +And Illo have been sentenced. + +[TERZKY _and_ ILLO _express alarm and fury_. WALLENSTEIN +_remains firm and collected_.] + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis decided! +'Tis well! I have received a sudden cure +From all the pangs of doubt: with steady stream +Once more my life-blood flows! My soul's secure! +In the night only Friedland's stars can beam. +Lingering irresolute, with fitful fears +I drew the sword--'twas with an inward strife, +While yet the choice was mine. The murderous knife +Is lifted for my heart! Doubt disappears! +I fight now for my head and for my life. + + [_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; _the others follow him_.] + + +SCENE XI + + +COUNTESS TERZKY (_enters from a side room_). + +I can endure no longer. No! + + [_Looks around her_.] + + Where are they! +No one is here. They leave me all alone, +Alone in this sore anguish of suspense. +And I must wear the outward show of calmness +Before my sister, and shut in within me +The pangs and agonies of my crowded bosom. +It is not to be borne. If all should fail; +If--if he must go over to the Swedes, +An empty-handed fugitive, and not +As an ally, a covenanted equal, +A proud commander with his army following, +If we must wander on from land to land, +Like the Count Palatine, of fallen greatness +An ignominious monument! But no! +That day I will not see! And could himself +Endure to sink so low, I would not bear +To see him so low sunken. + + +SCENE XII + + +COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA + +THEKLA (_endeavoring to hold back the_ DUCHESS). + +Dear mother, do stay here! + +DUCHESS. + + No! Here is yet +Some frightful mystery that is hidden from me. +Why does my sister shun me? Don't I see her +Full of suspense and anguish roam about +From room to room? Art thou not full of terror? +And what import these silent nods and gestures +Which stealthwise thou exchangest with her? + +THEKLA. + + Nothing: +Nothing, dear mother! + +DUCHESS (_to the_ COUNTESS). + + Sister, I will know. + +COUNTESS. + +What boots it now to hide it from her? Sooner +Or later she _must_ learn to hear and bear it. +'Tis not the time now to indulge infirmity; +Courage beseems us now, a heart collect, +And exercise and previous discipline +Of fortitude. One word, and over with it! +Sister, you are deluded. You believe +The Duke has been deposed--the Duke is not +Deposed--he is-- + +THEKLA (_going to the_ COUNTESS). + + What? do you wish to kill her? + +COUNTESS. + +The Duke is-- + +THEKLA (_throwing her arms round her mother_). + + O stand firm; stand firm, my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +Revolted is the Duke; he is preparing +To join the enemy; the army leave him, +And all has fail'd. + + +SCENE XIII + + +A spacious Room in the Duke of Friedland's Palace. + + +WALLENSTEIN (_in armor_). + +Thou hast gain'd thy point, Octavio! Once more am I +Almost as friendless as at Regensburg. +There I had nothing left me, but myself; +But what one man can do, you have now experience. +The twigs have you hew'd off, and here I stand +A leafless trunk. But in the sap within +Lives the creating power, and a new world +May sprout forth from it. Once already have I +Proved myself worth an army to you--I alone! +Before the Swedish strength your troops had melted; +Beside the Lech sank Tilly your last hope; +Into Bavaria like a winter torrent, +Did that Gustavus pour, and at Vienna +In his own palace did the Emperor tremble. +Soldiers were scarce, for still the multitude +Follow the luck: all eyes were turn'd on me, +Their helper in distress: the Emperor's pride +Bow'd itself down before the man he had injured. +'Twas I must rise, and with creative word +Assemble forces in the desolate camps. +I did it. Like a god of war, my name +Went through the world. The drum was beat; and, lo, +The plough, the workshop is forsaken, all +Swarm to the old familiar long-loved banners; +And as the wood-choir rich in melody +Assemble quick around the bird of wonder, +When first his throat swells with his magic song, +So did the warlike youth of Germany +Crowd in around the image of my eagle. +I feel myself the being that I was. +It is the soul that builds itself a body, +And Friedland's camp will not remain unfill'd. +Lead then your thousands out to meet me--true! +They are accustom'd under me to conquer, +But not against me. If the head and limbs +Separate from each other, 'twill be soon +Made manifest in which the soul abode. + + (ILLO _and_ TERZKY _enter_) + +Courage, friends! courage! we are still unvanquish'd! +I feel my footing firm; five regiments, Terzky, +Are still our own, and Butler's gallant troops; +And an host of sixteen thousand Swedes to-morrow. +I was not stronger when, nine years ago, +I marched forth, with glad heart and high of hope, +To conquer Germany for the Emperor. + + +SCENE XIV + + +WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, TERZKY + +(_To them enter_ NEUMANN, _who leads_ TERZKY _aside and +talks with him_.) + +TERZKY. + +What do they want? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now! + +TERZKY. + + Ten Cuirassiers +From Pappenheim request leave to address you +In the name of the regiment. + +WALLENSTEIN (_hastily to_ NEUMANN). + +Let them enter. + + [_Exit_ NEUMANN.] + + This +May end in something. Mark you. They are still +Doubtful, and may be won. + + +SCENE XV + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZBY, ILLO, _ten_ Cuirassiers (_led by an_ +ANSPESSADE,[27] _march up and arrange themselves, after the +word of command, in one front before the Duke, and make +their obeisance. He takes his hat off and immediately covers +himself again_). + +ANSPESS. + +Halt! Front! Present! + +WALLENSTEIN (_after he has run through them with his eye, +to the_ ANSPESSADE). + +I know thee well. Thou art out of Brüggen in Flanders. +Thy name is Mercy. + +ANSPESS. + + Henry Mercy. + +WALLENST. + +Thou wert cut off on the march, surrounded by +the Hessians, and didst fight thy way with +an hundred and eighty men through their +thousand. + +ANSPESS. + +'Twas even so, General! + +WALLENST. + + What reward hadst thou for this gallant exploit? + +ANSPESS. + +That which I asked for: the honor to serve in +this corps. + +WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a second_). + +Thou wert among the volunteers that seized and +made booty of the Swedish battery at Altenburg. + +2D CUIRAS. + +Yes, General. + +WALLENST. + +I forget no one with whom I have exchanged +words. + + (_A pause_.) + + Who sends you? + +ANSPESS. + +Your noble regiment, the Cuirassiers of Piccolomini. + +WALLENST. + +Why does not your colonel deliver in your request, +according to the custom of service? + +ANSPESS. + +Because we would first know _whom_ we serve. + +WALLENST. + +Begin your address. + +ANSPESSADE (_giving the word of command_). + +Shoulder your arms! + +WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a third_). + +Thy name is Risbeck; Cologne is thy birth-place. + +3D CUIRAS. + +Risbeck of Cologne. + +WALLENST. + +It was thou that broughtest in the Swedish colonel, +Dübald, prisoner, in the camp at Nuremberg. + +3D CUIRAS. + +It was not I, General. + +WALLENST. + +Perfectly right! It was thy elder brother: thou +hadst a younger brother too: Where did he +stay? + +3D CUIRAS. + +He is stationed at Olmütz, with the Imperial +army. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ ANSPESSADE). + +Now then--begin. + +ANSPESS. + +There came to hand a letter from the Emperor +Commanding us-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_interrupting him_). + + Who chose you? + +ANSPESSADE. + + Every company +Drew its own man by lot. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Now to the business. + +ANSPESS. + +There came to hand a letter from the Emperor +Commanding us collectively, from thee +All duties of obedience to withdraw, +Because thou wert an enemy and traitor. + +WALLENST. + +And what did you determine? + +ANSPESSADE. + + All our comrades +At Braunau, Budweiss, Prague and Olmütz, have +Obey'd already; and the regiments here, +Tiefenbach and Toscano, instantly +Did follow their example. But--but we +Do not believe that thou art an enemy +And traitor to thy country, hold it merely +For lie and trick and a trumped-up Spanish story! + + [_With warmth_.] + +Thyself shalt tell us what thy purpose is, +For we have found thee still sincere and true: +No mouth shall interpose itself betwixt +The gallant General and the gallant troops. + +WALLENST. + +Therein I recognize my Pappenheimers. + +ANSPESS. + +And this proposal makes thy regiment to thee. +Is it thy purpose merely to preserve +In thine own hands this military sceptre, +Which so becomes thee, which the Emperor +Made over to thee by a covenant? +Is it thy purpose merely to remain +Supreme commander of the Austrian armies?-- +We will stand by thee, General! and guarantee +Thy honest rights against all opposition. +And should it chance that all the other regiments +Turn from thee, by ourselves will we stand forth +Thy faithful soldiers, and, as is our duty, +Far rather let ourselves be cut to pieces +Than suffer thee to fall. But if it be +As the Emperor's letter says, if it be true, +That thou in traitorous wise wilt lead us over +To the enemy, which God in heaven forbid! +Then we too will forsake thee, and obey +That letter-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Hear me, children! + +ANSPESSADE. + + Yes, or no! +There needs no other answer. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Yield attention. +You're men of sense, examine for yourselves; +Ye think, and do not follow with the herd +And therefore have I always shown you honor +Above all others, suffer'd you to reason; +Have treated you as free men, and my orders +Were but the echoes of your prior suffrage.-- + +ANSPESS. + +Most fair and noble has thy conduct been +To us, my General! With thy confidence +Thou hast honor'd us, and shown us grace and favor +Beyond all other regiments; and thou seest +We follow not the common herd. We will +Standby thee faithfully. Speak but one word-- +Thy word shall satisfy us, that it is not +A treason which thou meditatest--that +Thou meanest not to lead the army over +To the enemy, nor e'er betray the country. + +WALLENST. + +Me, me are they betraying. The Emperor +Hath sacrificed me to my enemies, +And I must fall, unless my gallant troops +Will rescue me. See! I confide in you. +And be your hearts my stronghold! At this breast +The aim is taken, at this hoary head. +This is your Spanish gratitude, this is our +Requital for that murderous fight at Lützen! +For this we threw the naked breast against +The halbert, made for this the frozen earth +Our bed, and the hard stone our pillow! never stream +Too rapid for us, nor wood too impervious; +With cheerful spirit we pursued that Mansfeldt +Through all the turns and windings of his flight: +Yea, our whole life was but one restless march: +And homeless, as the stirring wind, we travel'd +O'er the war-wasted earth. And now, even now, +That we have well-nigh finish'd the hard toil, +The unthankful, the curse-laden toil of weapons, +With faithful indefatigable arm +Have roll'd the heavy war-load up the hill, +Behold! this boy of the Emperor's bears away +The honors of the peace, an easy prize! +He'll weave, forsooth, into his flaxen locks +The olive branch, the hard-earn'd ornament +Of this gray head, grown gray beneath the helmet. + +ANSPESS. + +That shall he not, while we can hinder it! +No one, but thou, who hast conducted it +With fame, shall end this war, this frightful war. +Thou leddest us out to the bloody field +Of death; thou and no other shalt conduct us home, +Rejoicing, to the lovely plains of peace-- +Shalt share with us the fruits of the long toil-- + +WALLENST. + +What! Think you then at length in late old age +To enjoy the fruits of toil? Believe it not. +Never, no never, will you see the end +Of the contest! you and me, and all of us, +This war will swallow up! War, war, not peace, +Is Austria's wish; and therefore, because I +Endeavor'd after peace, therefore I fall, +For what cares Austria how long the war +Wears out the armies and lays waste the world! +She will but wax and grow amid the ruin +And still win new domains. + +[_The_ Cuirassiers _express agitation by their gestures_.] + + Ye're moved--I see +A noble rage flash from your eyes, ye warriors! +Oh that my spirit might possess you now +Daring as once it led you to the battle! +Ye would stand by me with your veteran arms, +Protect me in my rights; and this is noble! +But think not that _you_ can accomplish it, +Your scanty number! to no purpose will you +Have sacrificed you for your General. + + [_Confidentially_.] + +No! let us tread securely, seek for friends; +The Swedes have proffer'd us assistance, let us +Wear for a while the appearance of good will, +And use them for your profit, till we both +Carry the fate of Europe in our hands, +And from our camp to the glad jubilant world +Lead Peace forth with the garland on her head! + +ANSPESS. + +'Tis then but mere appearances which thou +Dost put on with the Swede! Thou'lt not betray +The Emperor? Wilt not turn us into Swedes? +This is the only thing which we desire +To learn from thee. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What care I for the Swedes? +I hate them as I hate the pit of hell, +And under Providence I trust right soon +To chase them to their homes across their Baltic. +My cares are only for the whole: I have +A heart--it bleeds within me for the miseries +And piteous groaning of my fellow Germans. +Ye are but common men, but yet ye think +With minds not common; ye appear to me +Worthy before all others that I whisper ye +A little word or two in confidence! +See now! already for full fifteen years, +The war-torch has continued burning, yet +No rest, no pause of conflict. Swede and German, +Papist and Lutheran! neither will give way +To the other, every hand's against the other. +Each one is party and no one a judge. +Where shall this end? Where's he that will unravel +This tangle, ever tangling more and more; +It must be cut asunder; +I feel that I am the man of destiny, +And trust, with your assistance, to accomplish it. + + +SCENE XVI + + +_To these enter_ BUTLER + +BUTLER (_passionately_). + +General! This is not right! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is not right? + +BUTLER. + +It must needs injure us with all honest men. + +WALLENST. + +But What? + +BUTLER. + + It is an open proclamation +Of insurrection. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well, well--but what is it? + +BUTLER. + +Count Terzky's regiments tear the Imperial Eagle +From off the banners, and instead of it +Have rear'd aloft their arms. + +ANSPESSADE (_abruptly to the_ Cuirassiers). + + Right about! March! + +WALLENST. + +Cursed be this counsel, and accursed who gave it! + + [_To the_ Cuirassiers, _who are retiring_.] + +Halt, children, halt! There's some mistake in this; +Hark!--I will punish it severely. Stop! +They do not hear. (_To_ ILLO.) Go after them, assure them, +And bring them back to me, cost what it may. + + [ILLO _hurries out_.] + +This hurls us headlong. Butler! Butler! +You are my evil genius! Wherefore must you +Announce it in their presence? It was all +In a fair way. They were half won! those madmen +With their improvident over-readiness-- +cruel game is Fortune playing with me. +The zeal of friends it is that razes me, +And not the hate of enemies. + + +SCENE XVII + + +_To these enter the_ DUCHESS, _who rushes into the Chamber_ +THEKLA _and the_ COUNTESS _follow her_. + +DUCHESS. + + O Albrecht! +What hast thou done? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + And now comes this beside. + +COUNTESS. + +Forgive me, brother! It was not in my power-- +They know all. + +DUCHESS. + + What hast thou done? + +COUNTESS (_to_ TERZKY). + +Is there no hope? Is all lost utterly? + +TERZKY. + +All lost. No hope. Prague in the Emperor's hands, +The soldiery have ta'en their oaths anew. + +COUNTESS. + +That lurking hypocrite, Octavio! +Count Max is off too. + +TERZKY. + + Where can he be? He's +Gone over to the Emperor with his father. + +[THEKLA _rushes out into the arms of her mother, hiding her +face in her bosom_.] + +DUCHESS (_enfolding her in her arms_). + +Unhappy child! and more unhappy mother! + +WALLENSTEIN (_aside to_ TERZKY). + +Quick! Let a carriage stand in readiness +In the court behind the palace. Scherfenberg +Be their attendant; he is faithful to us; +To Egra he'll conduct them, and we follow. + + [_To_ ILLO, _who returns_.] + +Thou hast not brought them back? + +ILLO. + + Hear'st thou the uproar? +The whole corps of the Pappenheimers is +Drawn out: the younger Piccolomini, +Their colonel, they require: for they affirm +That he is in the palace here, a prisoner; +And if thou dost not instantly deliver him, +They will find means to free him with the sword. + + [_All stand amazed_.] + +TERZKY. + +What shall we make of this? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Said I not so? +O my prophetic heart! he is still here. +He has not betray'd me--he could not betray me. +I never doubted of it. + +COUNTESS. + + If he be +Still here, then all goes well; for I know what + + [_Embracing_ THEKLA] + +Will keep him here forever. + +TERZKY. + + It can't be. +His father has betray'd us, is gone over +To the Emperor--the son could not have ventured +To stay behind. + +THEKLA (_her eyes fixed on the door_). + + There he is! + + +SCENE XVIII + + +_To these enter_ MAX PICCOLOMINI + +MAX. + +Yes! here he is! I can endure no longer +To creep on tiptoe round this house, and lurk +In ambush for a favorable moment: +This loitering, this suspense exceeds my powers. + +[_Advancing to_ THEKLA, _who has thrown herself into her +mother's arms_.] + +Turn not thine eyes away. O look upon me! +Confess it freely before all. Fear no one. +Let who will hear that we both love each other; +Wherefore continue to conceal it? Secrecy +Is for the happy--misery, hopeless misery, +Needeth no veil! Beneath a thousand suns +It dares act openly. + +[_He observes the_ COUNTESS _looking on_ THEKLA _with +expressions of triumph_.] + + No, Lady! No! +Expect not, hope it not. I am not come +To stay: to bid farewell, farewell forever. +For this I come! 'Tis over! I must leave thee! +Thekla, I must--_must_ leave thee! Yet thy hatred +Let me not take with me. I pray thee, grant me +One look of sympathy, only one look. +Say that thou dost not hate me. Say it to me, +Thekla! + +[_Grasps her hand_.] + +O God! I cannot leave this spot--I cannot! +Cannot let go this hand. O tell me, Thekla! +That thou dost suffer with me, art convinced +That I cannot act otherwise. + +[THEKLA, _avoiding his look, points with her hand to her +father_. MAX _turns round to the Duke, whom he had not till +then perceived_.] + +Thou here? It was not thou whom here I sought. +I trusted never more to have beheld thee. +My business is with her alone. Here will I +Receive a full acquittal from this heart-- +For any other I am no more concern'd. + +WALLENST. + +Think'st thou that, fool-like, I shall let thee go, +And act the mock-magnanimous with thee? +Thy father is become a villain to me; +I hold thee for his son, and nothing more: +Nor to no purpose shalt thou have been given +Into my power. Think not that I will honor +That ancient love, which so remorselessly +He mangled. They are now past by, those hours +Of friendship and forgiveness. Hate and vengeance +Succeed--'tis now their turn--I too can throw +All feelings of the man aside--can prove +Myself as much a monster as thy father! + +MAX. (_calmly_). + +Thou wilt proceed with me, as thou hast power. +Thou know'st, I neither brave nor fear thy rage. +What has detain'd me here, that too thou know'st. + +[_Taking_ THEKLA _by the hand_.] + +See, Duke! All--all would I have owed to thee, +Would have received from thy paternal hand +The lot of blessed spirits. This hast thou +Laid waste forever--that concerns not thee; +Indifferent thou tramplest in the dust +Their happiness who most are thine. The god +Whom thou dost serve is no benignant deity +Like as the blind, irreconcilable, +Fierce element, incapable of compact, +Thy heart's wild impulse only dost thou follow.[28] + +WALLENST. + +Thou art describing thy own father's heart. +The adder! O, the charms of hell o'erpowered me; +He dwelt within me, to my inmost soul +Still to and fro he pass'd, suspected never +On the wide ocean, in the starry heaven +Did mine eyes seek the enemy, whom I +In my heart's heart had folded! Had I been +To _Ferdinand_ what Octavio was to _me_, +War had I ne'er denounced against him. No, +I never could have done it. The Emperor was +My austere master only, not my friend. +There was already war 'twixt him and me +When he deliver'd the Commander's Staff +Into my hands; for there's a natural, +Unceasing war 'twixt cunning and suspicion; +Peace exists only betwixt confidence +And faith. Who poisons confidence, he murders +The future generations. + +MAX. + + I will not +Defend my father. Woe is me, I cannot! +Hard deeds and luckless have ta'en place; one crime +Drags after it the other in close link. +But we are innocent: how have we fallen +Into this circle of mishap and guilt? +To whom have we been faithless? Wherefore must +The evil deeds and guilt reciprocal +Of our two fathers twine like serpents round us? + Why must our fathers' +Unconquerable hate rend us asunder, +Who love each other? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Max, remain with me. +Go you not from me, Max! Hark! I will tell thee-- +How when at Prague, our winter quarters, thou +Wert brought into my tent a tender boy, +Not yet accustom'd to the German winters; +Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colors; +Thou wouldst not let them go.-- +At that time did I take thee in my arms, +And with my mantle did I cover thee; +I was thy nurse, no woman could have been +A kinder to thee; I was not ashamed +To do for thee all little offices, +However strange to me; I tended thee +Till life return'd; and when thine eyes first open'd, +I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have +Alter'd my feelings toward thee? Many thousands +Have I made rich, presented them with lands; +Rewarded them with dignities and honors; +Thee have I _loved_: my heart, my self, I gave +To thee! They all were aliens: THOU went +Our child and inmate.[29] Max! Thou cans't not leave me; +It cannot be; I may not, will not think +That Max can leave me. + +MAX. + + O my God! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I have +Held and sustain'd thee from thy tottering childhood; +What holy bond is there of natural love, +What human tie, that does not knit thee to me? +I love thee, Max! What did thy father for thee, +Which I too have not done, to the height of duty? +Go hence, forsake me, serve thy Emperor; +He will reward thee with a pretty chain +Of gold; with his ram's fleece will he reward thee; +For that the friend, the father of thy youth, +For that the holiest feeling of humanity, +Was nothing worth to thee. + +MAX. + + O God! how can I +Do otherwise? Am I not forced to do it? +My oath--my duty--my honor-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + How? Thy duty? +Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max! bethink thee +What duties mayst _thou_ have? If _I_ am acting +A criminal part toward the Emperor, +It is my crime, not thine. Dost thou belong +To thine own self? Art thou thine own commander? +Stand'st thou, like me, a freeman in the world, +That in thy actions thou shouldst plead free agency? +On me thou'rt planted, I am thy Emperor; +To obey _me_, to _belong_ to me, this is +Thy honor, this a law of nature to thee! +And if the planet, on the which thou livest +And hast thy dwelling, from its orbit starts, +It is not in thy choice whether or no +Thou'lt follow it. Unfelt it whirls thee onward +Together with his ring, and all his moons. +With little guilt stepp'st thou into this contest, +Thee will the world not censure, it will praise thee, +For that thou held'st thy friend more worth to thee +Than names and influences more removed; +For justice is the virtue of the ruler, +Affection and fidelity the subject's. +Not every one doth it beseem to question +The far-off high Arcturus. Most securely +Wilt thou pursue the nearest duty: let +The pilot fix his eye upon the pole-star. + + +SCENE XIX + + +_To these enter_ NEUMANN + +WALLENST. + + What now? + +NEUMANN. + +The Pappenheimers are dismounted, +And are advancing now on foot, determined +With sword in hand to storm the house, and free +The Count, their colonel. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to_ TERZKY). + + Have the cannon planted. +I will receive them with chain-shot. + + [_Exit_ TERZKY + +Prescribe to me with sword in hand! Go, Neumann, +'Tis my command that they retreat this moment, +And in their ranks in silence wait my pleasure. + + [NEUMANN _exit_. ILLO _steps to the window_.] + +COUNTESS. + Let him go, I entreat thee, let him go. + +ILLO (_at the window_). + +Hell and perdition! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is it? + +ILLO. They scale the council-house, the roof's uncovered, +They level at this house the cannon-- + +MAX. + + Madmen! + +ILLO. + +They are making preparations now to fire on us. + +DUCHESS and COUNTESS. +Merciful heaven! + +MAX (_to_ WALLENSTEIN). + + Let me go to them! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Not a step! + +MAX (_pointing to_ THEKLA _and the_ DUCHESS). + + But their life! Thine! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What tidings bring'st thou, Terzky? + + +SCENE XX + + +_To these_ TERZKY _returning_ + + +TERZKY. + +Message and greeting from our faithful regiments. +Their ardor may no longer be curb'd in. +They entreat permission to commence the attack; +And if thou wouldst but give the word of onset, +They could now charge the enemy in rear, +Into the city wedge them, and with ease +O'erpower them in the narrow streets. + +ILLO. + + O come! +Let not their ardor cool. The soldiery +Of Butler's corps stand by us faithfully; +We are the greater number. Let us charge them, +And finish here in Pilsen the revolt. + +WALLENST. + +What? shall this town become a field of slaughter, +And brother-killing Discord, fire-eyed, +Be let loose through its streets to roam and rage? +Shall the decision be deliver'd over +To deaf remorseless Rage, that hears no leader? +Here is not room for battle, only for butchery. +Well, let it be! I have long thought of it, +So let it burst them! + + [_Turns to_ MAX.] + + Well, how is it with thee? +Wilt thou attempt a heat with me? Away! +Thou art free to go. Oppose thyself to me, +Front against front, and lead them to the battle; +Thou'rt skill'd in war, thou hast learn'd somewhat under me, +I need not be ashamed of my opponent, +And never hadst thou fairer opportunity +To pay me for thy schooling. + +COUNTESS. + + Is it then, +Can it have come to this?--What! Cousin, cousin! +Have you the heart? + +MAX. + +The regiments that are trusted to my care +I have pledged my troth to bring away from Pilsen +True to the Emperor; and this promise will I +Make good, or perish. More than this no duty +Requires of me. I will not fight against thee, +Unless compell'd; for though an enemy, +Thy head is holy to me still. + +[_Two reports of cannon_. ILLO _and_ TERZKY _hurry to the +window_.] + +WALLENST. + + What's that? + +TERZKY. + + He falls. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Falls! Who? + +ILLO. + + Tiefenbach's corps +Discharged the ordnance. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Upon whom? + +ILLO. + + On Neumann, +Your messenger. + +WALLENSTEIN (_starting up_). + + Ha! Death and hell! I will-- + +TERZKY. + +Expose thyself to their blind frenzy? + +DUCHESS _and_ COUNTESS. + + No! +For God's sake, no! + +ILLO. + + Not yet, my General +O hold him! hold him! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Leave me. + +MAX. + + Do it not; +Not yet! This rash and bloody deed has thrown them +Into a frenzy-fit--allow them time-- + +WALLENST. + +Away! too long already have I loiter'd. +They are emboldened to these outrages, +Beholding not my face. They shall behold +My countenance, shall hear my voice-- +Are they not _my_ troops? Am I not their General, +And their long-fear'd commander? Let me see +Whether indeed they do no longer know +That countenance, which was their sun in battle! +From the balcony (mark!) I show myself +To these rebellious forces, and at once +Revolt is mounded, and the high-swoln current +Shrinks back into the old bed of obedience. + +[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; ILLO, TERZKY, _and_ BUTLER _follow_.] + + +SCENE XXI + + +COUNTESS, DUCHESS, MAX _and_ THEKLA + +COUNTESS (_to the_ DUCHESS). + +Let them but see him--there is hope still, sister. + +DUCHESS. + +Hope! I have none! + +MAX (_who during the last scene has been standing at a +distance, in a visible struggle of feelings, advances_). + + This can I not endure. +With most determined soul did I come hither; +My purposed action seem'd unblamable +To my own conscience--and I must stand here +Like one abhorr'd, a hard inhuman being: +Yea, loaded with the curse of all I love! +Must see all whom I love in this sore anguish, +Whom I with one word can make happy--O! +My heart revolts within me, and two voices +Make themselves audible within my bosom. +My soul's benighted; I no longer can +Distinguish the right track. O, well and truly +Didst thou say, father, I relied too much +On my own heart. My mind moves to and fro-- +know not what to do. + +COUNTESS. + + What! you know not? +Does not your own heart tell you? O! then I +Will tell it you. Your father is a traitor, +A frightful traitor to us--he has plotted +Against our General's life, has plunged us all +In misery--and you're his son! 'Tis yours +To make the _amends_--Make you the son's fidelity +Outweigh the father's treason, that the name +Of Piccolomini be not a proverb +Of infamy, a common form of cursing +To the posterity of Wallenstein. + +MAX. + +Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow! +It speaks no longer in _my_ heart. We all +But utter what our passionate wishes dictate: +O that an angel would descend from heaven, +And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted, +With a pure hand from the pure fount of Light! + + [_His eyes glance on_ THEKLA.] + +What other angel seek I? To this heart, +To this unerring heart, will I submit it; +Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless +The happy man alone, averted ever +From the disquieted and guilty--_canst_ thou +Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst, +And I am the Duke's-- + +COUNTESS. + + Think, niece-- + +MAX. + + Think, nothing, Thekla! +Speak what thou _feelest_. + +COUNTESS. + + Think upon your father. + +MAX. + +I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. +Thee, the beloved and the unerring god +Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake? +Not whether diadem of royalty +Be to be won or not--that mightst thou _think_ on. +Thy friend, and his soul's quiet, are at stake: +The fortune of a thousand gallant men, +Who will all follow me; shall I forswear +My oath and duty to the Emperor? +Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp +The parricidal ball? For when the ball +Has left its cannon, and is on its flight, +It is no longer a dead instrument! +It lives, a spirit passes into it, +The avenging furies seize possession of it, +And with sure malice guide it the worst way. + +THEIKLA. + +O! Max-- + +MAX (_interrupting her_). + + Nay, not precipitately either, Thekla, +I understand thee. To thy noble heart +The hardest duty might appear the highest. +The human, not the great part, would I act +Even from my childhood to this present hour. +Think what the Duke has done--for me, how loved me +And think, too, how my father has repaid him. +O likewise the free lovely impulses +Of hospitality, the pious friend's +Faithful attachment, these, too, are a holy +Religion to the heart; and heavily +The shudderings of nature do avenge +Themselves on the barbarian that insults them. +Lay all upon the balance, all--then speak, +And let thy heart decide it. + +THEKLA. + + O, thy own +Hath long ago decided. Follow thou +Thy heart's first feeling-- + +COUNTESS. + + Oh! ill-fated woman. + +THEKLA. + +Is it possible that that can be the right, +The which thy tender heart did not at first +Detect and seize with instant impulse? Go, +Fulfil thy duty! I should ever love thee +What'er thou hadst chosen, thou wouldst still have acted +Nobly and worthy of thee--but repentance +Shall ne'er disturb thy soul's fair peace. + +MAX. + + Then I +Must leave thee, must part from thee! + +THEKLA. + + Being faithful +To thine own self, thou art faithful, too, to me; +If our fates part, our hearts remain united. +A bloody hatred will divide forever +The houses Piccolomini and Friedland; +But we belong not to our houses. Go! +Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause +From our unholy and unblessèd one! +The curse of Heaven lies upon our head: +'Tis dedicate to ruin. Even me +My father's guilt drags with it to perdition. +Mourn not for me: +My destiny will quickly be decided. + +[MAX _clasps her in his arms in extreme emotion. There +is heard from behind the scenes a loud, wild, long +continued cry_, Vivat Ferdinandus! _accompanied by warlike +instruments_. MAX _and_ THEKLA _remain without motion in +each other's embraces_.] + + +SCENE XXII + + +_To the above enter_ TERZKY + +COUNTESS (_meeting him_). + +What meant that cry? What was it? + +TERZKY. + + All is lost! + +COUNTESS. + +What! they regarded not his countenance? + +TERZKY. + +'Twas all in vain. + +DUCHESS. + + They shouted Vivat!-- + +TERZKY. + + To the Emperor. + +COUNTESS. + +The traitors! + +TERZIBY. + + Nay! he was not permitted +Even to address them. Soon as he began, +With deafening noise of warlike instruments +They drown'd his words. But here he comes. + + +SCENE XXIII + + +_To these enter_ WALLENSTEIN, _accompanied by_ ILLO _and_ +BUTLER + +WALLENSTEIN (_as he enters_). + + Terzky! + +TERZKY. + +My General! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Let our regiments hold themselves +In readiness to march; for we shall leave +Pilsen ere evening. + + [_Exit_ TERZKY.] + + Butler! + +BUTLER. + + Yes, my General. + +WALLENST. + +The Governor of Egra is your friend +And countryman. Write to him instantly +By a post-courier. He must be advised, +That we are with him early on the morrow. +You follow us yourself, your regiment with you. + +BUTLER. + +It shall be done, my General! + +WALLENSTEIN (_steps between_ MAX _and_ THEKLA, _who have +remained during this time in each other's arms_). + + Part! + +MAX. + + O God! + +[Cuirassiers _enter with drawn swords, and assemble in the +background. At the same time there are heard from below some +spirited passages out of the Pappenheim March, which seem to +address_ MAX.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the Cuirassiers_). + +Here he is, he is at liberty: I keep him +No longer. + +[_He turns away, and stands so that_ MAX _cannot pass by him +nor approach the_ PRINCESS.] + +MAX. + +Thou know'st that I have not yet learnt to live +Without thee! I go forth into a desert, +Leaving my all behind me. O do not turn +Thine eyes away from me! O once more show me +Thy ever dear and honor'd countenance! + +[MAX _attempts to take his hand, but is repelled; he turns +to the_ COUNTESS.] + +Is there no eye that has a look of pity for me? + +[_The_ COUNTESS _turns away from him; he turns to the_ +DUCHESS.] + +My mother! + +DUCHESS. + + Go where duty calls you. Haply +The time may come, when you may prove to us +A true friend, a good angel at the throne +Of the Emperor. + +MAX. + + You give me hope; you would not +Suffer me wholly to despair. No! no! +Mine is a certain misery. Thanks to Heaven! +That offers me a means of ending it. + +[_The military music begins again. The stage fills more and +more with armed men_. MAX _sees_ BUTLER _and addresses +him_.] + +And you here, Colonel Butler--and will you +Not follow me? Well, then! remain more faithful +To your new lord than you have proved yourself +To the Emperor. Come, Butler! promise me, +Give me your hand upon it, that you'll be +The guardian of his life, its shield, its watchman. +He is attainted, and his princely head +Fair booty for each slave that trades in murder. +Now he doth need the faithful eye of friendship, +And those whom here I see-- + +[_Casting suspicious looks on_ ILLO _and_ BUTLER.] + +ILLO. + +Go--seek for traitors +In Gallas', in your father's quarters. Here +Is only one. Away! away! and free us +From his detested sight! Away! + +[MAX _attempts once more to approach_ THEKLA. WALLENSTEIN +_prevents him_. MAX _stands irresolute, and in apparent +anguish. In the mean time the stage fills more and more; and +the horns sound from below louder and louder, and each time +after a shorter interval_.] + +MAX. + +Blow! blow! O were it but the Swedish trumpets, +And all the naked swords, which I see here, +Were plunged into my breast! What purpose you? +You come to tear me from this place! Beware, +Ye drive me not to desperation. Do it not! +Ye may repent it! + +[_The stage is entirely filled with armed men_.] + +Yet more! weight upon weight to drag me down! +Think what ye're doing. It is not well done +To choose a man despairing for your leader; +You tear me from my happiness. Well, then, +I dedicate your souls to vengeance. Mark! +For your own ruin you have chosen me: +Who goes with me, must be prepared to perish. + +[_He turns to the background, there ensues a sudden and +violent movement among the Cuirassiers; they surround him, +and carry him off in wild tumult_. WALLENSTEIN_ remains +immovable_. THEKLA _sinks into her mother's arms. The +curtain falls. The music becomes loud and overpowering, and +passes into a complete war march--the orchestra joins it and +continues during the interval between the second and third +Act_.] + + +ACT IV + + +SCENE I + +_The Burgomaster's House at Egra_ + +BUTLER (_just arrived_). + +Here then he is, by his destiny conducted. +Here, Friedland! and no farther! From Bohemia +Thy meteor rose, traversed the sky awhile, +And here upon the borders of Bohemia +Must sink. + + Thou hast foresworn the ancient colors, +Blind man! yet trustest to thy ancient fortunes. +Profaner of the altar and the hearth, +Against thy Emperor and fellow citizens +Thou mean'st to wage the war. Friedland, beware-- +The evil spirit of revenge impels thee-- +Beware thou, that revenge destroy thee not! + + +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. + + + +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_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_A Saloon, terminated by a Gallery which extends far into +the background_. + +WALLENSTEIN _Sitting at a table. The_ SWEDISH CAPTAIN +_standing before him_. + +WALLENST. + +Commend me to your lord. I sympathize +In his good fortune; and if you have seen me +Deficient in the expressions; of that joy, +Which such a victory might well demand, +Attribute it to no lack of good will, +For henceforth are our fortunes one. Farewell, +And for your trouble take my thanks. Tomorrow +The citadel shall be surrendered to you +On your arrival. + +[_The_ SWEDISH CAPTAIN _retires_. WALLENSTEIN _sits lost in +thought, his eyes fixed vacantly, and his head sustained by +his hand. The_ COUNTESS TERZKY _enters, stands before him +for awhile, unobserved by him; at length he starts, sees her +and recollects himself_.] + +WALLENST. + +Comest thou from her? Is she restored? How +is she? + +COUNTESS. + +My sister tells me, she was more collected +After her conversation with the Swede. +She has now retired to rest. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + The pang will soften; +She will shed tears. + +COUNTESS. + + I find thee alter'd too, +My brother! After such a victory +I had expected to have found in thee +A cheerful spirit. O remain _thou_ firm! +Sustain, uphold us! For our light thou art, +Our sun. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Be quiet. I ail nothing. Where's +Thy husband? + +COUNTESS. + + At a banquet--he and Illo. + +WALLENSTEIN _(rises and strides across the saloon)_. + +The night's far spent. Betake thee to thy +chamber. + +COUNTESS. + +Bid me not go, O let me stay with thee! + +WALLENSTEIN _(moves to the window)_. + +There is a busy motion in the Heaven, +The wind doth chase the flag upon the tower, +Fast sweep the clouds, the sickle[34] of the moon, +Struggling, darts snatches of uncertain light; +No form of star is visible! That one +White stain of light, that single glimmering yonder, +Is from Cassiopeia, and therein +Is Jupiter. + + (_A pause_). + + But now +The blackness of the troubled element hides him! +[_He sinks into profound melancholy, and looks +vacantly into the distance_.] + +COUNTESS (_looks on him mournfully, then grasps his hand_). + +What art thou brooding on? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Methinks, +If I but saw him, 'twould be well with me. +He is the star of my nativity, +And often marvelously hath his aspect +Shot strength into my heart. + +COUNTESS. + + Thou'lt see him again. + +WALLENSTEIN _(remains for a while, with, absent mind, then +assumes a livelier manner, and turning suddenly to the_ +COUNTESS). + +See him again? O never, never again! + +COUNTESS. + +How? + +WALLENSTEIN. + +He is gone--is dust. + +COUNTESS. + + Whom meanest thou, then? + +WALLENST. + +He, the more fortunate! yea, he hath finish'd! +For him there is no longer any future, +His life is bright--bright without spot it _was_, +And cannot cease to be. No ominous hour +Knocks at his door with tidings of mishap; +Far off is he, above desire and fear; +No more submitted to the change and chance +Of the unsteady planets. O 'tis well +With him! but who knows what the coming hour +Veil'd in thick darkness brings for us? + +COUNTESS. + + Thou speakest +Of Piccolomini. What was his death? +The courier had just left thee as I came. + +[WALLENSTEIN _by a motion of his hand makes signs to her to +be silent._] + +Turn not thine eyes upon the backward view, +Let us look forward into sunny days, +Welcome with joyous heart the victory, +Forget what it has cost thee. Not today, +For the first time, thy friend was to thee dead; +To thee he died, when first he parted from thee. + +WALLENST. + +This anguish will be wearied down,[35] I know; +What pang is permanent with man? From the highest, +As from the vilest thing of every day, +He learns to wean himself: for the strong hours +Conquer him. Yet I feel what I have lost +In him. The bloom is vanish'd from my life; +For O! he stood beside me, like my youth, +Transform'd for me the real to a dream, +Clothing the palpable and the familiar +With golden exhalations of the dawn. +Whatever fortunes wait my future toils, +The _beautiful_ is vanish'd--and returns not. + +COUNTESS. + +O be not treacherous to thy own power. +Thy heart is rich enough to vivify +Itself. Thou lovest and prizest virtues in him, +The which thyself didst plant, thyself unfold. + +WALLENSTEIN _(stepping to the door_). + +Who interrupts us now at this late hour? +It is the Governor. He brings the keys +Of the Citadel. 'Tis midnight. Leave me, sister! + +COUNTESS. + +O 'tis so hard to me this night to leave thee-- +A boding fear possesses me! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Fear! Wherefore? + +COUNTESS. + +Shouldst thou depart this night, and we at waking +Never more find thee! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Fancies! + +COUNTESS. + + O my soul +Has long been weigh'd down by these dark fore-bodings, +And if I combat and repel them waking, +They will crush down upon my heart in dreams. +I saw thee yesternight with thy first wife +Sit at a banquet, gorgeously attired. + +WALLENST. + +This was a dream of favorable omen, +That marriage being the founder of my fortunes. + +COUNTESS. + +Today I dreamt that I was seeking thee +In thy own chamber. As I enter'd, lo! +It was no more a chamber: the Chartreuse +At Gitschin 'twas, which thou thyself hast founded, +And where it is thy will that thou should'st be +Interr'd. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Thy soul is busy with these thoughts. + +COUNTESS. + +What! dost thou not believe that oft in dreams +A voice of warning speaks prophetic to us? + +WALTENST. + +There is no doubt that there exist such voices; +Yet I would not call _them_ +Voices of warning that announce to us +Only the inevitable. As the sun, +Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image +In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits +Of great events stride on before the events, +And in today already walks tomorrow. +That which we read of the fourth Henry's death +Did ever vex and haunt me like a tale +Of my own future destiny. The king +Felt in his breast the phantom of the knife, +Long ere Ravaillac arm'd himself therewith. +His quiet mind forsook him: the phantasma +Started him in his Louvre, chased him forth +Into the open air: like funeral knells +Sounded that coronation festival; +And still with boding sense he heard the tread +Of those feet that even then were seeking him +Throughout the streets of Paris. + +COUNTESS. + + And to _thee_ +The voice within thy soul bodes nothing? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Nothing. +Be wholly tranquil. + +COUNTESS. + + And another time +I hasten'd after thee, and thou ran'st from me +Through a long suite, through many a spacious hall. +There seem'd no end of it: doors creak'd and clapp'd; +I follow'd panting, but could not o'ertake thee; +When on a sudden did I feel myself +Grasp'd from behind--the hand was cold that grasped me-- +'Twas thou, and thou didst kiss me, and there seem'd +A crimson covering to envelop us. + +WALLENST. That is the crimson tapestry of my chamber. + +COUNTESS _(gazing on him)._ +If it should come to that--if I should see thee, +Who standest now before me in the fulness +Of life-- + +_[She falls on his breast and weeps_.] + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor's proclamation weighs upon thee-- +Alphabets wound not--and he finds no hands. + +COUNTESS. + +If he _should_ find them, my resolve is taken-- +I bear about me my support and refuge. + + [_Exit_ COUNTESS.] + + +SCENE IV + + +WALLENSTEIN, GORDON + +WALLENST. + +All quiet in the town? + +GORDON. + + The town is quiet. + +WALLENST. + +I hear a boisterous music! and the Castle +Is lighted up. Who are the revellers? + +GORDON. + +There is a banquet given at the Castle +To the Count Terzky and Field Marshal Illo. + +WALLENST. + +In honor of the victory--This tribe +Can show their joy in nothing else but feasting. + + [_Rings. The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _enters_.] + +Unrobe me. I will lay me down to sleep. + +[WALLENSTEIN _takes the keys from_ GORDON.] + +So we are guarded from all enemies, +And shut in with sure friends; +For all must cheat me, or a face like this + + [_Fixing his eye on_ GORDON.] + +Was ne'er a hypocrite's mask. + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _takes off his mantle, collar, +and scarf._] + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Take care--what is that? + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER. + +The golden chain is snapped in two. + +WALLENST. + +Well, it has lasted long enough. Here--give it. + + [_He takes and looks at the chain_.] + +'Twas the first present of the Emperor. +He hung it round me in the war of Friule, +He being then Archduke; and I have worn it +Till now from habit-- +From superstition, if you will. Belike, +It was to be a talisman to me; +And while I wore it on my neck in faith, +It was to chain to me all my life long +The volatile fortune, whose first pledge it was-- +Well, be it so! Henceforward a new fortune +Must spring up for me; for the potency +Of this charm is dissolved. + +[GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _retires with the vestments._ +WALLENSTEIN _rises, takes a stride across the room, and +stands at last before_ GORDON _in a posture of meditation_.] + +How the old time returns upon me! I +Behold myself once more at Burgau, where +We two were Pages of the Court together. +We oftentimes disputed: thy intention +Was ever good; but thou wert wont to play +The Moralist and Preacher, and wouldst rail at me-- +That I strove after things too high for me, +Giving my faith to bold unlawful dreams, +And still extol to me the golden mean-- +Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friend +To thy own self. See, it has made thee early +A superannuated man, and (but +That my munificent stars will intervene) +Would let thee in some miserable corner +Go out like an untended lamp. + +GORDON. + + My Prince! +With light heart the poor fisher moors his boat, +And watches from the shore the lofty ship +Stranded amid the storm. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Art thou already +In harbor then, old man? Well! I am not. +The unconquer'd spirit drives me o'er life's billows; +My planks still firm, my canvas swelling proudly. +Hope is my goddess still, and Youth my inmate; +And while we stand thus front to front almost +I might presume to say that the swift years +Have passed by powerless o'er my unblanched +hair. + +_[He moves with long strides across the Saloon, +and remains on the opposite side over +against_ GORDON.] + +Who now persists in calling Fortune false? +To me she has proved faithful; with fond love +Took me from out the common ranks of men, +And like a mother goddess, with strong arm +Carried me swiftly up the steps of life. +Nothing is common in my destiny, +Nor in the furrows of my hand. Who dares +Interpret then my life for me as 'twere +One of the undistinguishable many? +True, in this present moment I appear +Fallen low indeed; but I shall rise again. +The high flood will soon follow on this ebb; +The fountain of my fortune, which now stops +Repress'd and bound by some malicious star, +Will soon in joy play forth from all its pipes. + +GORDON. + +And yet remember I the good old proverb, +"Let the night come before we praise the day." +I would be slow from long-continued fortune +To gather hope: for Hope is the companion +Given to the unfortunate by pitying Heaven. +Fear hovers round the head of prosperous men; +For still unsteady are the scales of fate. + +WALLENSTEIN _(smiling_). + +I hear the very Gordon that of old +Was wont to preach, now once more preaching; +I know well that all sublunary things +Are still the vassals of vicissitude. +The unpropitious gods demand their tribute; +This long ago the ancient Pagans knew: +And therefore of their own accord they offer'd +To themselves injuries, so to atone +The jealousy of their divinities: +And human sacrifices bled to Typhon. + +[_After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner._] + +I too have sacrificed to him--For me +There fell the dearest friend, and through my fault +He fell! No joy from favorable fortune +Can overweight the anguish of this stroke. +The envy of my destiny is glutted +Life pays for life. On his pure head the lightning +Was drawn off which would else have shatter'd _me_. + + +SCENE V + + +_To these enter_ SENI + +WALLENST. + +Is not that Seni! and beside himself, +If one may trust his looks? What brings thee hither +At this late hour, Baptista? + +SENI. + + Terror, Duke! +On thy account. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now? + +SENI. + + Flee ere the day break! +Trust not thy person to the Swedes! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now +Is in thy thoughts? + +SENI (_with louder voice_). + +Trust not thy person to the Swedes. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is it, then? + +SENI (_still more urgently_). + +O wait not the arrival of these Swedes! +An evil near at hand is threatening thee +From false friends. All the signs stand full of horror! +Near, near at hand the net-work of perdition-- +Yea, even now 'tis being cast around thee! + +WALLENST. + +Baptista, thou art dreaming!--Fear befools thee. + +SENI. + +Believe not that an empty fear deludes me. +Come, read it in the planetary aspects; +Read it thyself that ruin threatens thee +From false friends. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + From the falseness of my friends +Has risen the whole of my unprosperous fortunes. +The warning should have come before! At present +I need no revelation from the stars +To know that. + +SENI. + + Come and see! trust thine own eyes! +A fearful sign stands in the house of life-- +An enemy; a fiend lurks close behind +The radiance of thy planet.--O be warn'd! +Deliver not up thyself to these heathens, +To wage a war against our holy church. + +WALLENSTEIN (_laughing gently_). + +The oracle rails that way! Yes, yes! Now +I recollect. This junction with the Swedes +Did never please thee--lay thyself to sleep, +Baptista! Signs like these I do not fear. + +GORDON (_who during the whole of this dialogue has shown +marks of extreme agitation, and now turns to_ WALLENSTEIN). + +My Duke and General! May I dare presume? + +WALLENST. + +Speak freely. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN WARNED BY HIS FRIENDS +As performed at the Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906] + +GORDON. + + What if 'twere no mere creation +Of fear, if God's high providence vouchsafed +To interpose its aid for your deliverance, +And made that mouth its organ? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Ye're both feverish! +How can mishap come to me from the Swedes! +They sought this junction with me--'tis their +interest. + +GORDON _(with difficulty suppressing his emotion)_. + +But what if the arrival of these Swedes-- +What if this were the very thing that wing'd +The ruin that is flying to your temples? + + [_Flings himself at his feet_.] + +There is yet time, my Prince. + +SENI. + +O hear him! hear him! + +GORDON _(rises)_. + +The Rhinegrave's still far off. Give but the orders, +This citadel shall close its gates upon him. +If then he will besiege us, let him try it. +But this I say; he'll find his own destruction +With his whole force before these ramparts, sooner +Than weary down the valor of our spirit. +He shall experience what a band of heroes, +Inspirited by an heroic leader, +Is able to perform. And if indeed +It be thy serious wish to make amend +For that which thou hast done amiss--this, this +Will touch and reconcile the Emperor, +Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy +And Friedland, who returns repentant to him, +Will stand yet higher in his Emperor's favor +Than e'er he stood when he had never fallen. + +WALLENSTEIN (_contemplates him with surprise, remains +awhile, betraying strong emotion_). + +Gordon--your zeal and fervor lead you far. +Well, well--an old friend has a privilege. +Blood, Gordon, has been flowing. Never, never +Can the Emperor pardon me; and if he could, +Yet I--I never could let myself be pardon'd. +Had I foreknown what now has taken place, +That he, my dearest friend, would fall for me +My first death-offering; and had the heart +Spoken to me, as now it has done--Gordon, +It may be, I might have bethought myself; +It may be too, I might not. Might or might not +Is now an idle question. All too seriously +Has it begun to end in nothing, Gordon! +Let it then have its course. + +[_Stepping to the window._] + +All dark and silent-at the castle too +All is now hush'd--Light me, Chamberlain! + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER, _who had entered during the +last dialogue, and had been standing at a distance and +listening to it with visible expressions of the deepest +interest, advances in extreme agitation, and throws himself +at the_ DUKE'S _feet._] + +And thou too! But I know why thou dost wish +My reconcilement with the Emperor. +Poor man! he hath a small estate in Carinthia, +And fears it will be forfeited because +He's in my service. Am I then so poor +That I no longer can indemnify +My servants? Well! to no one I employ +Means of compulsion. If 'tis thy belief +That fortune has fled from me, go! forsake me. +This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me, +And then go over to thy Emperor. +Gordon, good night! I think to make a long +Sleep of it: for the struggle and the turmoil +Of this last day or two was great. May't please you! +Take care that they awake me not too early. + +[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN, _the_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _lighting +him_.SENI _follows_, GORDON _remains on the darkened stage, +following the_ DUKE _with his eye, till he disappears at the +farther end of the gallery: then by his gestures the old man +expresses the depth of his anguish and stands leaning +against a pillar._] + + +SCENE VI + + +GORDON, BUTLER (_at first behind the scenes_) + +BUTLER (_not yet come into view of the stage_). + +Here stand in silence till I give the signal. + +GORDON (_starts up_). + +'Tis he! he has already brought the murderers. + +BUTLER. + +The lights are out. All lies in profound sleep. + +GORDON. What shall I do? Shall I attempt to save him? +Shall I call up the house? alarm the guards? + +BUTLER (_appears, but scarcely on the stage_). + +A light gleams hither from the corridor. +It leads directly to the Duke's bed-chamber. + +GORDON. + +But then I break my oath to the Emperor; +If he escape and strengthen the enemy, +Do I not hereby call down on my head +All the dread consequences? + +BUTLER (_stepping forward_). + + Hark! Who speaks there? + +GORDON. + +'Tis better, I resign it to the hands +Of Providence. For what am I, that I +Should take upon myself so great a deed? +I have not murdered him, if he be murder'd; +But all his rescue were _my_ act and deed; +_Mine_--and whatever be the consequences, +I must sustain them. + +BUTLER (_advances_). + + I should know that voice. + +GORDON. + +Butler! + +BUTLER. + + 'Tis Gordon. What do _you_ want here? +Was it so late then, when the Duke dismiss'd you? + +GORDON. + +Your hand bound up and in a scarf? + +BUTLER. + + 'Tis wounded. +That Illo fought as he were frantic, till +At last we threw him on the ground. + +GORDON (_shuddering_). Both dead? + +BUTLER. + +Is he in bed? + +GORDON. + + Ah, Butler! + +BUTLER. + + Is he? speak. + +GORDON. + +He shall _not_ perish! Not through you! The Heaven +Refuses _your_ arm. See--'tis wounded!-- + +BUTLER. + +There is no need of my arm. + +GORDON. + + The most guilty +Have perish'd, and enough is given to justice. + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _advances from the Gallery with +his finger on his mouth commanding silence_.] + +GORDON. + +He sleeps! O murder not the holy sleep! + +BUTLER. + +No! he shall die awake. + + [_Is going_.] + +GORDON. + +His heart still cleaves +To earthly things: he's not prepared to step +Into the presence of his God! + +BUTLER (_going_). + + God's merciful! + +GORDON (_holds him_). + +Grant him but this night's respite. + +BUTLER (_hurrying off_) + + The next moment +May ruin all. + +GORDON _(holds him still_). + +One hour!-- + +BUTLER. Unhold me! What +Can that short respite profit him? + +[Illustration: DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN Karl von Piloty] + +GORDON. + + O--Time +Works miracles. In one hour many thousands +Of grains of sand run out; and quick as they, +Thought follows thought within the human soul. +Only one hour! _Your_ heart may change its purpose, +_His_ heart may change its purpose--some new tidings +May come; some fortunate event, decisive, +May fall from Heaven and rescue him. O what +May not one hour achieve! + +BUTLER. + +You but remind me, +How precious every minute is! + + [_He stamps on the floor._] + + +SCENE VII + + +_To these enter_ MACDONALD _and_ DEVEREUX, _with the_ +HALBERDIERS + +GORDON (_throwing himself between him and them_). + + No, monster! +First over my dead body thou shalt tread. +I will not live to see the accursed deed! + +BUTLER (_forcing him out of the way_). + +Weak-hearted dotard! + +[_Trumpets are heard in the distance_.] + +DEVEREUX _and_ MACDONALD. + +Hark! the Swedish trumpets! +The Swedes before the ramparts! Let us hasten! + +GORDON (_rushes out_). + + O, God of mercy! + +BUTLER (_calling after him_). + +Governor, to your post! + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER (_hurries in_). + +Who dares make larum here? Hush! The Duke +sleeps. + +DEVEREUX (_with loud harsh voice_). + +Friend, it is time now to make larum. + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER. + + Help! +Murder! + +BUTLER. + +Down with him! + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER (_run through the body by_ DEVEREUX, +_falls at the entrance of the Gallery_). + + Jesus Maria! + +BUTLER. + +Burst the doors open. + +[_They rush over the body into the Gallery--two doors are +heard to crash one after the other.--Voices, deadened by the +distance--clash of arms--then all at once a profound +silence._] + + +SCENE VIII + + +COUNTESS TERZKY (_with a light_). + +Her bed-chamber is empty; she herself +Is nowhere to be found! The Neubrunn too, +Who watch'd by her, is missing. If she should +Be flown--but whither flown? We must call up +Every soul in the house. How will the Duke +Bear up against these worst bad tidings? O +If that my husband now were but return'd +Home from the banquet!--Hark! I wonder whether +The Duke is still awake! I thought I heard +Voices and tread of feet here! I will go +And listen at the door. Hark! what is that? +'Tis hastening up the steps! + + +SCENE IX + + +COUNTESS, GORDON + +GORDON (_rushes in out of breath_). + + 'Tis a mistake! +'Tis not the Swedes--Ye must proceed no further +Butler!--O God! where is he? + +GORDON (_observing the_ COUNTESS). + + Countess! Say-- + +COUNTESS. + +You are come then from the castle? Where's my husband? + +GORDON (_in an agony of affright)_. + +Your husband!--Ask not!--To the Duke-- + +COUNTESS. + + Not till +You have discover'd to me-- + +GORDON. + + On this moment +Does the world hang. For God's sake! to the Duke. +While we are speaking-- + +[_Calling loudly_.] + + Butler! Butler! God! + +COUNTESS. + +Why, he is at the castle with my husband. + +[BUTLER _comes from the Gallery_.] + +GORDON. + +'Twas a mistake--'Tis not the Swedes--it is +The Imperialists' Lieutenant-General +Has sent me hither--will be here himself +Instantly.--You must not proceed. + +BUTLER. + + He comes +Too late. + +[GORDON _dashes himself against the wall_.] + +GORDON. + +O God of mercy! + +COUNTESS. + + What too late? +Who will be here himself? Octavio +In Egra? Treason! Treason!--Where's the +Duke? + +[_She rushes to the Gallery._] + + +SCENE X + + +_Servants run across the Stage, full of terror. The whole +Scene must be spoken entirely without pauses_. + +SENI (_from the Gallery_). + +A bloody, frightful deed! + +COUNTESS. + + What is it, Seni? + +PAGE (_from the Gallery_). + +O piteous sight! + +[_Other servants hasten in with torches_.] + +COUNTESS. + +What is it? For God's sake! + +SENI. + + And do you ask? +Within, the Duke lies murder'd--and your husband +Assassinated at the Castle. + +[_The_ COUNTESS _stands motionless_.] + +FEMALE SERVANT (_rushing across the stage_). + + Help! help! the Duchess! + +BURGOMASTER (_enters_). + + What mean these confused +Loud cries that wake the sleepers of this house? + +GORDON. + +Your house is cursed to all eternity. +In your house doth the Duke lie murder'd! + +BURGOMASTER (_rushing out_). + + Heaven forbid! + +1ST SERV. + +Fly! fly! they murder us all! + +SECOND SERVANT (_carrying silver plate_). + + That way! the lower +Passages are block'd up. + +VOICE (_from behind the Scene_). + +Make room for the Lieutenant-General! + +[_At these words the_ COUNTESS _starts from her stupor, +collects herself, and retires suddenly_.] + +VOICE (_from behind the Scene_). + +Keep back the people! Guard the door! + + +SCENE XI + + +_To these enter_ OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI _with all his train. At +the same time_ DEVEREUX _and_ MACDONALD _enter from out the +Corridor with the Halberdiers_.--WALLENSTEIN'S _dead body is +carried over the back part of the stage, wrapped in a piece +of crimson tapestry_. + +OCTAVIO (_entering abruptly_). + +It must not be! It is not possible! +Butler! Gordon! +I'll not believe it. Say no! + +[GORDON, _without answering, points with his hand to the +body of_ WALLENSTEIN _as it is carried over the back of the +stage._ OCTAVIO _looks that way, and stands overpowered with +horror._] + +DEVEREUX (_to_ BUTLER). + +Here is the golden fleece--the Duke's Sword-- + +MACRON. + + Is it your order-- + +BUTLER (_pointing to_ OCTAVIO). + + Here stands he who now +Hath the sole power to issue orders. + +[DEVEREUx _and_ MACDONALD _retire with marks of obeisance. +One drops away after the other, till only_ BUTLER, OCTAVIO, +_and_ GORDON _remain on the stage.]_ + +OCTAVIO (_turning to_ BUTLER). + +Was that my purpose, Butler, when we parted? +O God of Justice! +To thee I lift my hand! I am not guilty +Of this foul deed. + +BUTLER. + +Your _hand_ is pure. You have +Avail'd yourself of mine. + +OCTAVIO. + + Merciless man! +Thus to abuse the orders of thy Lord-- +And stain thy Emperor's holy name with murder, +With bloody, most accursed assassination! + +BUTLER (_calmly_). + +I've but fulfilled the Emperor's own sentence. + +OCTAVIO. + +O curse of Kings, +Infusing a dread life into their words, +And linking to the sudden transient thought +The unchanging irrevocable deed. +Was there necessity for such an eager +Dispatch? Couldst thou not grant the merciful +A time for mercy? Time is man's good Angel. +To leave no interval between the sentence, +And the fulfilment of it, doth beseem +God only, the immutable! + +BUTLER. + + For what +Rail you against me? What is my offense? +The Empire from a fearful enemy +Have I deliver'd, and expect reward; +The single difference betwixt you and me +Is this: you placed the arrow in the bow: +I pull'd the string. You sow'd blood, and yet stand +Astonish'd that blood is come up. I always +Knew what I did, and therefore no result +Hath power to frighten or surprise my spirit. +Have you aught else to order; for this instant +I make my best speed to Vienna; place +My bleeding sword before my Emperor's throne, +And hope to gain the applause which undelaying +And punctual obedience may demand +From a just judge. + + [_Exit_ BUTLER.] + +SCENE XII + + +_To these enter the_ COUNTESS TERZKY, _pale and disordered. +Her utterance is slow and feeble, and unimpassioned_. + +OCTAVIO (_meeting her_). + +O, Countess Terzky! These are the results +Of luckless unblest deeds. + +COUNTESS. + + They are the fruits +Of your contrivances. The Duke is dead, +My husband too is dead, the Duchess struggles +In the pangs of death, my niece has disappear'd, +This house of splendor, and of princely glory, +Doth now stand desolated: the affrighted servants +Rush forth through all its doors. I am the last +Therein; I shut it up, and here deliver +The keys. + +OCTAVIO (_with a deep anguish_). + +O Countess! my house, too, is desolate. + +COUNTESS. + +Who next is to be murder'd? Who is next +To be maltreated? Lo! the Duke is dead, +The Emperor's vengeance may be pacified! +Spare the old servants; let not their fidelity +Be imputed to the faithful as a crime-- +The evil destiny surprised my brother +Too suddenly: he could not think on them. + +OCTAVIO. + +Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment! +The Emperor is appeased; the heavy fault +Hath heavily been expiated--nothing +Descended from the father to the daughter, +Except his glory and his services. +The Empress honors your adversity, +Takes part in your afflictions, opens to you +Her motherly arms! Therefore, no farther fears; +Yield yourself up in hope and confidence +To the Imperial Grace! + +COUNTESS. _(with her eye raised to heaven_). + +To the grace and mercy of a greater Master +Do I yield up myself. Where shall the body +Of the Duke have its place of final rest? +In the Chartreuse, which he himself did found +At Gitschin, rests the Countess Wallenstein; +And by her side, to whom he was indebted +For his first fortunes, gratefully he wish'd +He might sometime repose in death! O let him +Be buried there. And likewise, for my husband's +Remains, I ask the like grace. The Emperor +Is now the proprietor of all our castles. +This sure may well be granted us--one sepulchre +Beside the sepulchres of our forefathers! + +OCTAVIO. + +Countess, you tremble, you turn pale! + +COUNTESS _(re-assembles all her powers, and speaks with +energy and dignity)_. + + You think +More worthily of me than to believe +I would survive the downfall of my house. +We did not hold ourselves too mean to grasp +After a monarch's crown--the crown did fate +Deny, but not the feeling and the spirit +That to the crown belong! We deem a +Courageous death more worthy of our free station +Than a dishonor'd life.--I have taken poison. + +OCTAVIO. + +Help! Help! Support her! + +COUNTESS. + + Nay, it is too late, +In a few moments is my fate accomplish'd. + + [_Exit_ COUNTESS.] + +GORDON. + +O house of death and horrors! + +[_An_ OFFICER _enters, and brings a letter with the great +seal_. GORDON _steps forward and meets him._] + + What is this? +It is the Imperial Seal. + +[_He reads the address, and delivers the letter to_ OCTAVIO +_with a look of reproach, and with an emphasis on the +word._] + +To the _Prince_ Piccolomini. + +[OCTAVIO, _with his whole frame expressive of sudden +anguish, raises his eyes to heaven_.] + + [_The Curtain drops._] + + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 22: Thomas: The Life and Works of Schiller, p. 330.] + +[Footnote 23: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, London.] + +[Footnote 24: A great stone near Lützen, since called the Swede's +Stone, the body of their great king having been found at the foot of +it, after the battle in which he lost his life.] + +[Footnote 25: Could I have hazarded such a Germanism as the use of the +word after-world, for posterity--"Es spreche Welt und _Nachwelt_ +meinen Namen" might have been rendered with more literal +fidelity:--Let world and after-world speak out my name, etc.] + +[Footnote 26: I have not ventured to affront the fastidious delicacy +of our age with a literal translation of this line, + + werth +Die Eingeweide schaudernd aufzureger.] + +[Footnote 27: Anspessade, in German Gefreiter, a soldier inferior to a +corporal, but above the sentinels. The German name implies that he is +exempt from mounting guard.] + +[Footnote 28: I have here ventured to omit a considerable number of +lines. I fear that I should not have done amiss, had I taken this +liberty more frequently. It is, however, incumbent on me to give the +original, with a literal translation. + + Weh denen, die auf Dich vertraun, an Dich + Die sichre Hütte illres Glückes lehnen, + Gelockt von deiner geistlichen Gestalt. + Schnell unverhofft, bei nächtlich stiller Weile + Gährts in dem tückschen Feuerschlunde, ladet + Sich aus mit tobender Gewalt, und weg + Treibt über alle Pflanzungen der Menschen + Der Wilde Strom in grausender Zerstörung. + + WALLENSTEIN. + + Du schilderst deines Vaters Herz. Wie Du's + Beschreibst, so ist's in seinem Eingeweide, + In dieser schwarzen Heuchlers Brust gestaltet. + O, mich hat Höllenkunst getäuscht! Mir sandte + Der Abgrund den verflecktesten der Geister, + Den Lügenkundigsten herauf, and stellt' ihn + Als Freund an meiner Seite. Wer vermag + Der Hölle Macht zu widerstehn! Ich zog + Den Basilisken auf an meinem Busen, + Mit meinem Herzblut nährt ich ihn, er sog + Sich schwelgend voll an meiner Liebe Brüsten, + Ich hatte nimmer Arges gegen ihn, + Weit offen liess ich des Gedankens Thore, + Und warf die Schlüssel weiser Vorsicht weg, + Am Sternenhimmel, etc. + +LITERAL TRANSLATION + +Alas! for those who place their confidence on thee, against thee lean +the secure hut of their happiness, allured by thy hospitable form. +Suddenly, unexpectedly, in a moment still as night, there is a +fermentation in the treacherous gulf of fire; it discharges itself +with raging force, and away over all the plantations of men drives the +wild stream in frightful devastation.--WALLENSTEIN. Thou art +portraying thy father's heart; as thou describest, even so is it +shaped in his entrails, in this black hypocrite's breast. O, the art +of hell has deceived me! The Abyss sent up to me the most spotted of +the spirits, the most skilful in lies, and placed him as a friend by +my side. Who may withstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to +my bosom, with my heart's blood I nourished him; he sucked himself +glutfull at the breasts of my love. I never harbored evil toward him; +wide open did I leave the door of my thoughts; I threw away the key of +wise foresight. In the starry heaven, etc.--We find a difficulty in +believing this to have been written by Schiller.] + +[Footnote 29: + This is a poor and inadequate translation of the affectionate simplicity + of the original-- + + Sie alle waren Fremdlinge; _Du_ warst + Das Kind des Hauses. + +Indeed the whole speech is in the best style of Massinger. _O si sic +omnia!_] + +[Footnote 30: It appears that the account of his conversion being +caused by such a fall, and other stories of his juvenile character, +are not well authenticated.] + +[Footnote 31: We doubt the propriety of putting so blasphemous a +statement in the mouth of any character.--T.] + +[Footnote 32: This soliloquy, which, according to the former +arrangement; constituted the whole of Scene IX., and concluded the +Fourth Act, is omitted in all the printed German editions. It seems +probable that it existed in the original manuscript from which Mr. +Coleridge translated.--Ed.] + +[Footnote 33: The soliloquy of Thekla consists in the original of +six-and-twenty lines, twenty of which are in rhymes of irregular +recurrence. I thought it prudent to abridge it. Indeed the whole scene +between Thekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps have been omitted +without injury to the play.--C.] + +[Footnote 34: These four lines are expressed in the original with +exquisite felicity-- + + Am Himmel ist geschäftige Bewegung. + Des Thurmes Fahne jagt der Wind, schnell geht + Der Wolken Zug, die _Mondessichel wankt_, + Und durch die Nacht zuckt ungewisse Helle. + +The word "moon-sickle," reminds me of a passage in Harris, as quoted +by Johnson, under the word "falcated." "The enlightened part of the +moon appears in the form of a sickle or reaping-hook, which is while +she is moving from the conjunction to the opposition, or from the new +moon to the full: but from full to a new again, the enlightened part +appears gibbous, and the dark _falcated_." + +The words "wanken" and "schweben" are not easily translated. The +English words, by which we attempt to render them, are either vulgar +or pedantic, or not of sufficiently general application. So "der +Wolken Zug"--literally, The Draft, the Procession of clouds; +freely--The Masses of the Clouds sweep onward in swift _stream_.] + +[Footnote 35: A very inadequate translation of the original-- + + Verschmerzen werd' ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich, + Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch! + + LITERALLY. + + I shall _grieve down_ this blow, of that I'm conscious: + What does not man grieve down?] + + * * * * * + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO WILLIAM TELL + +BY WILLIAM H. CARRUTH, PH.D. + +Professor of Comparative Literature, Leland Stanford University + + +William Tell is the last complete drama written by Schiller, finished +February 18, 1804, in the author's forty-fifth year and something over +a year before his death. After this he completed only a pageant, _The +Homage of the Arts_, although he was occupied with many plans for +other plays, including _Demetrius_, founded on the career of the +Russian pretender of this name, of which he left the first act. +_William Tell_ is the last of Schiller's five great dramas, a series +beginning with _Wallenstein_, written within nine years, constituting, +along with his ballads and many other poems, the work of what is +called his "third period." This period was preceded by Schiller's +chief prose works and the historical and philosophical studies +preparatory thereto, together with considerable reading of Greek and +English classics, notably Homer and Shakespeare. The influence of his +historical and critical studies and of this reading is evident in the +dramas: _Wallenstein, Maria Stuart, The Maid of Orleans, The Bride of +Messina, William Tell_. But of these, _William Tell_ stands apart in +several ways. + +For all of them Schiller made careful preliminary studies, but for +none in such detail as for _Tell_. He had not only a remote historical +material to deal with, but also a land and customs which he had never +seen and which nevertheless he wished to present with great fidelity. +His chief source was the Swiss chronicler Tschudi, of the sixteenth +century, from whom he took not only the main features of his action, +but many touches of scenery and much actual phraseology. In addition +he studied the Swiss historian Johannes von Mueller, maps and natural +histories of Switzerland, and received also some oral notes from +Goethe, to whom, in fact, he owed the original suggestion of +dramatizing the story of William Tell. + +Unlike the other dramas of Schiller's last period, _William Tell_ has +no plot in the technical dramatic sense. There is no snare of +circumstances laid which forces a hero, after vain attempts to elude +or unloose it, to tear his way out at the cost of more or less +innocent lives. We see the representatives of three small, +freedom-loving democracies pushed beyond endurance by the outrages of +tyranny, pledging mutual support in resisting these encroachments upon +their liberties, and carrying out a successful resistance, aided by +the wholly fortuitous assassination of the tyrannical emperor. We see, +as a single instance of these oppressions, the arrogant caprice of the +bailiff Gessler in demanding homage to the Austrian hat, his jealousy +of the freeman Tell expressed in imposing as a penalty for neglected +obeisance the shooting of an apple from his little son's head, the +successful meeting of this test, and in turn Tell's vengeance through +the exercise of this same prowess in shooting Gessler as he rides home +through the Hohle Gasse. Mingled with these elements we see the +patriotic support of the common people by a native noblewoman, Bertha +von Brunneck, and her successful effort to win to this cause, through +his love for her, the young Baron von Rudenz, whose uncle +Attinghausen, always loyal to his people, hears in dying the news of +his nephew's conversion, while with his last breath he prophesies the +triumph of liberty. These three threads are woven into a single +pattern through the element of the common cause. This is the unity of +the action, which many critics have found wanting in the play. +Moreover these three plans of action coöperate, if not by deliberate +foresight, yet by coincidence of time and purpose, and in some measure +by common personages. + +The theme of _William Tell_ had been used as early as the sixteenth +century in one of the early popular pageants with which the modern +German drama begins. These pageants occupied the whole of several days +in presentation and employed, including all supernumeraries, as high +as three hundred people. Schiller knew the old Tell Play and imbibed +something of its spirit. He uses masses of populace in _William Tell_ +as in no other of his plays except the _Camp_ of the _Wallenstein_ +trilogy. It may be that the influence of the old popular play together +with the nature of his material led him to dispense here with the +unity of action, the plot, and the expression of tragic guilt, which +may be found in all his other later plays. + +Along with keen appreciation, such as A.W. Schlegel's comment: "Imbued +with the poetry of history, with a treatment true to nature and +genuine, and, considering the poet's unfamiliarity with the country, +astonishingly correct in local color," _William Tell_ met from the +first much adverse criticism. This applied first of all to the +looseness of connection already cited between the various elements of +the action, and further, to the supposed superfluousness of the +Parricide episode in the Fifth Act, to the alleged unnaturalness of +Tell's long speeches and to the ignoble nature of his assault upon +Gessler from ambush. The last was given the poet in the legend of +Tell, which in general he took over with pious reverence as authentic +history. The Parricide episode was introduced, partly because it was +actually there in history and helped to complete the victory of the +peasants' cause, partly in order to give a better color to Tell's own +act, as being less prompted by selfish considerations. The criticism +of Tell's speeches, whether his pithy, epigrammatic sentences in Act +I, Scenes 1 and 3, and elsewhere, or his long monologue in Act IV, +Scene 3, applies to the whole constitution of the conventional stage +with just as much validity against Shakespeare's _Julius Cæsar_ and +_Hamlet_ as against _William Tell_. True, it is not plausible that +Tell recited 100 lines of beautiful poetry while lying in wait for +Gessler; neither is it likely that Prince Hamlet talked to himself in +pentameters. + +In general this play is more objective than Schiller's other plays, +and this was a quality which he admired in Goethe's work and strove +for in his own. Despite the technical criticisms, we find that the +play is filled with beautiful descriptions and noble sentiments nobly +expressed. On the stage most of the scenes are exceedingly fascinating +and effective. These beauties are quite sufficient to hide the lack of +unity, and the total effect with the majority of the people is a high +esthetic and ethical gratification. The play has remained one of the +most popular pieces on the German stage and has had an incalculable +effect in the cultivation of national feeling. + + * * * * * + + + +WILLIAM TELL + + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + + +HERMANN GESSLER, _Governor of Schwytz and Uri_. + +WERNER, _Baron of Attinghausen, free noble of Switzerland_. + +ULRICH VON RUDENZ, _his Nephew_. + +WERNER STAUFFACHER, } +CONRAD HUNN, } +HANS AUF DER MAUER, } +JORG IM HOFE, } _People of Schwytz_. +ULRICH DER SCHMIDT, } +JOST VON WEILER, } +ITEL REDING, } + +WALTER FÜRST, +WILLIAM TELL, } +RÖSSELMANN, _the Priest_,} +PETERMANN, _Sacristan_, } _of Uri_. +KUONI, _Herdsman_, } +WERNI, _Huntsman_, } +RUODI, _Fisherman_, } + +ARNOLD OF MELCHTHAL, +CONRAD BAUMGARTEN, } +MEYER VON SARNEN, } +STRUTH VON WINKELRIED, } _of Unterwald_. +KLAUS VON DER FLUE, } +BURKHART AM BUHEL, } +ARNOLD VON SEWA, } + +PFEIFFER OF LUCERNE. + +KUNZ OF GERSAU. + +JENNI, _Fisherman's son_. + +SEPPI, _Herdsman's son_. + +GERTRUDE, _Stauffacher's wife_. + +HEDWIG, _wife of Tell, daughter of Fürst_. + +BERTHA OF BRUNECK, _a rich heiress_. + +ARMGART, } +MECHTHILD, } +ELSBETH, } _Peasant women_. +HILDEGARD, } + +WALTER, } _Tell's Sons_. +WILLIAM, } + +FRIESSHARDT, } _Soldiers_. +LEUTHOLD, } + +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, _Gessler's master of the horse_. + +JOHANNES PARRICIDA, _Duke of Suabia_. + +STUSSI, _Overseer_. + +THE MAYOR OF URI. + +A COURIER. + +MASTER STONEMASON, COMPANION AND WORKMEN. + +TASKMASTER. + +A CRIER. + +MONKS OF THE ORDER OF CHARITY. + +HORSEMEN OF GESSLER AND LANDENDERG. + +MANY PEASANTS; MEN AND WOMEN FROM THE WALDSTETTEN. + + +WILLIAM TELL (1804)[36] + +TRANSLATED BY SIR THEODORE MARTIN, K.C.B, LL.D. + + + +ACT I + +SCENE I + +_A high rocky shore of the lake of Lucerne opposite Schwytz. +The lake makes a bend into the land; a hut stands at a short +distance from the shore; the fisher boy is rowing about in +his boat. Beyond the lake are seen the green meadows, the +hamlets and farms of Schwytz, lying in the clear sunshine. +On the left are observed the peaks of the Hacken, surrounded +with clouds; to the right, and in the remote distance, +appear the Glaciers. The Ranz des Vaches, and the tinkling +of cattle bells, continue for some time after the rising of +the curtain._ + + +FISHER BOY (_sings in his boat_) +_Melody of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + The smile-dimpled lake woo'd to bathe in its deep, + A boy on its green shore had laid him to sleep; + Then heard he a melody + Floating along, + Sweet as the notes + Of an angel's song. + And as thrilling with pleasure he wakes from his rest, + The waters are rippling over his breast; + And a voice from the deep cries, + "With me thou must go, + I charm the young shepherd, + I lure him below." + + HERDSMAN (_on the mountains_) + _Air--Variation of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + Farewell, ye green meadows, + Farewell, sunny shore, + The herdsman must leave you, + The summer is o'er. + We go to the hills, but you'll see us again, + When the cuckoo calls, and the merry birds sing, + When the flowers bloom afresh in glade and in glen, + And the brooks sparkle bright in the sunshine of Spring. + Farewell, ye green meadows, + Farewell, sunny shore, + The herdsman must leave you, + The summer is o'er. + + CHAMOIS HUNTER (_appearing on the top of a cliff_) + _Second Variation of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + On the heights peals the thunder, and trembles the bridge, + The huntsman bounds on by the dizzying ridge. + Undaunted he hies him + O'er ice-covered wild, + Where leaf never budded, + Nor Spring ever smiled; + And beneath him an ocean of mist, where his eye + No longer the dwellings of man can espy; + Through the parting clouds only + The earth can be seen; + Far down 'neath the vapor + The meadows of green. + +[_A change comes over the landscape. A rumbling, cracking +noise is heard among the mountains. Shadows of clouds sweep +across the scene_.] + +[RUODI, _the fisherman, comes out of his cottage_. WERNI, +_the huntsman, descends from the rocks_. KUONI, _the +shepherd, enters, with a milkpail on his shoulders, +followed by_ SEPPI, _his assistant_.] + +RUODI. + +Come, Jenni, bustle, get the boat on shore. +The grizzly Vale-King[37] comes, the Glaciers moan, +The Mytenstein[38] is drawing on his hood, +And from the Stormcleft chilly blows the wind; +The storm will burst, before we know what's what. + +KUONI. + +'Twill rain ere long; my sheep browse eagerly, +And Watcher there is scraping up the earth. + +WERNI. + +The fish are leaping, and the water-hen +Keeps diving up and down. A storm is brewing. + +KUONI. (_to his boy_). + +Look, Seppi, if the beasts be all in sight. + +SEPPI. + +There goes brown Liesel, I can hear her bells. + +KUONI. + +Then all are safe; she ever ranges farthest. + +RUODI. + +You've a fine chime of bells there, master herdsman. + +WERNI. + +And likely cattle, too. Are they your own? + +KUONI. + +I'm not so rich. They are the noble lord's +Of Attinghaus, and told off to my care. + +RUODI. + +How gracefully yon heifer bears her ribbon! + +KUONI. + +Ay, well she knows she's leader of the herd, +And, take it from her, she'd refuse to feed. + +RUODI. + +You're joking now. A beast devoid of reason-- + +WERNI. + +Easily said. But beasts have reason, too-- +And that we know, we chamois-hunters, well. +They never turn to feed--sagacious creatures! +Till they have placed a sentinel ahead, +Who pricks his ears whenever we approach, +And gives alarm with clear and piercing pipe. + +RUODI. (_to the shepherd_). + +Are you for home? + +KUONI. + + The Alp is grazed quite bare. + +WERNI. + +A safe return, my friend! + +KUONI. + + The same to you! +Men come not always back from tracks like yours. + +RUODI. + +But who comes here, running at topmost speed? + +WERNI. + +I know the man; 'tis Baumgart of Alzellen. + +KONRAD BAUMGARTEN (_rushing in breathless_). + +For God's sake, ferryman, your boat! + +RUODI. + + How now? +Why all this haste? + +BAUM. + + Cast off! My life's at stake! +Set me across! + +KUONI. + + Why, what's the matter, friend? + +WERNI. + +Who are pursuing you? First tell us that. + +BAUM. (_to the fisherman_). + +Quick, quick, man, quick! they're close upon my heels! +It is the Viceroy's men are after me; +If they should overtake me, I am lost. + +RUODI. + +Why are the troopers in pursuit of you? + +BAUM. + +First make me safe and then I'll tell you all. + +WERNI. + +There's blood upon your garments--how is, this? + +BAUM. + +The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg-- + +KUONI. + +How! What! The Wolfshot?[39] Is it he pursues you? + +BAUM. + +He'll ne'er hurt man again; I've settled him. + +ALL (_starting back_). + +Now, God forgive you, what is this you've done! + +BAUM. + +What every free man in my place had done. +Mine own good household right I have enforced +'Gainst him that would have wrong'd my wife--my honor. + +KUONI. + +How! Wronged you in your honor, did he so? + +BAUM. + +That he did not fulfil his foul desire, +Is due to God and to my trusty axe. + +WERNI. + +And you have cleft his skull then, with your axe? + +KUONI. + +O, tell us all! You've time enough, and more, +While he is getting out the boat there from the beach. + +BAUM. + +When I was in the forest felling timber, +My wife came running out in mortal fear. +"The Seneschal," she said, "was in my house, +Had order'd her to get a bath prepared, +And thereupon had ta'en unseemly freedoms, +From which she rid herself, and flew to me." +Arm'd as I was, I sought him, and my axe +Has given his bath a bloody benison. + +WERNI. + +And you did well; no man can blame the deed. + +KUONi. + +The tyrant! Now he has his just reward! +We men of Unterwald have owed it long. + +BAUM. + +The deed got wind, and now they're in pursuit. +Heavens! whilst we speak, the time is flying fast. + + [_It begins to thunder_.] + +KUONI. + +Quick, ferryman, and set the good man over. + +RUODI. + +Impossible! a storm is close at hand, +Wait till it pass! You must. + +BAUM. + + Almighty heavens! +I cannot wait; the least delay is death. + +KUONI (_to the fisherman_). + +Push out--God with you! We should help our neighbors; +The like misfortune may betide us all. + + [_Thunder and the roaring of the wind_.] + +RUODI. + +The south wind's up![40] See how the lake is rising! +I cannot steer against both wind and wave. + +BAUM. (_clasping him by the knees_). + +God so help you as now you pity me! + +WERNI. + +His life's at stake. Have pity on him, man! + +KUONI. + + He is a father: has a wife and children. + + [_Repeated peals of thunder_.] + +RUODI. + +What! and have I not, then, a life to lose, +A wife and child at home as well as he? +See how the breakers foam, and toss, and whirl, +And the lake eddies up from all its depths! +Right gladly would I save the worthy man, +But 'tis impossible, as you must see. + +BAUM. (_still kneeling_). + +Then must I fall into the tyrant's hands, +And with the shore of safety close in sight! +Yonder it lies! My eyes can see it clear, +My very voice can echo to its shores. +There is the boat to carry me across, +Yet must I lie here helpless and forlorn. + +KUONI. + +Look! who comes here? + +RUODI. + + 'Tis Tell, ay, Tell, of Bürglen.[41] + + [_Enter_ TELL _with a crossbow_.] + +TELL. + +What man is he that here implores for aid? + +KUONI. + +He is from Alzellen, and to guard his honor +From touch of foulest shame, has slain the Wolf-shot, +The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg. +The Viceroy's troopers are upon his heels; +He begs the ferryman to take him over, +But frightened at the storm he says he won't. + +RUODI. + +Well, there is Tell can steer as well as I, +He'll be my judge, if it be possible. + +[_Violent peals of thunder--the lake becomes more +tempestuous_.] + +Am I to plunge into the jaws of hell? +I should be mad to dare the desperate act. + +TELL. + +The brave man thinks upon himself the last. +Put trust in God, and help him in his need! + +RUODI. + +Safe in the port, 'tis easy to advise. +There is the boat, and there the lake! Try you! + +TELL. + +The lake may pity, but the Viceroy never. +Come, risk it, man! + +SHEPHERD _and_ HUNTSMAN. + + O save him! save him! save him! + +RUODI. + + Though 'twere my brother, or my darling child, +I would not go. 'Tis Simon and Jude's day; +The lake is up, and calling for its victim. + +TELL. + +Nought's to be done with idle talking here. +Each moment's precious; the man must be help'd; +Say, boatman, will you venture? + +RUODI. + + No; not I. + +TELL. + +In God's name, then, give me the boat! I will, +With my poor strength, see what is to be done! + +KUONI. + +Ha, gallant Tell! + +WERNI. + + That's like a huntsman true. + +BAUM. + +You are my angel, my preserver, Tell. + +TELL. + +I may preserve you from the Viceroy's power, +But from the tempest's rage another must. +Yet better 'tis you fall into God's hands, +Than into those of men. + + [_To the herdsman_.] + + Herdsman, do thou +Console my wife if I should come to grief. +I could not choose but do as I have done. + + [_He leaps into the boat_.] + +KUONI (_to the fisherman_). + +A pretty man to keep a ferry, truly! +What Tell could risk, you dared not venture on. + +RUODI. + +Far better men would never cope with Tell. +There's no two such as he 'mong all our hills. + +WERNI (_who has ascended a rock_). + +Now he is off. God help thee, gallant sailor! +Look how the little boat reels on the waves! + +KUONI. (_on the shore_). + +There! they have swept clean over it. And now +'Tis out of sight. Yet stay, there 'tis again! +Stoutly he stems the breakers, noble fellow! + +SEPPI. + +Here come the troopers hard as they can ride! + +KUONI. + +Heavens! so they do! Why, that was help, indeed. + + [_Enter a troop of horsemen_.] + +1ST H. + +Give up the murderer! You have him here! + +2D H. + +This way he came! 'Tis useless to conceal him! + +RUODI _and_ KUONI. + +Whom do you mean? + +1ST H. (_discovering the boat_). + + The devil! What do I see? + +WERNI (_from above_). + +Is't he in yonder boat ye seek? Ride on, +If you lay to, you may o'ertake him yet. + +2D H. + +Curse on you, he's escaped! + +1ST H. (_to the shepherd and fisherman_). + + You help'd him off, +And you shall pay for it! Fall on their herds! +Down with the cottage! burn it! beat it down! + + [_They rush off._] + +SEPPI (_hurrying after them_). + +Oh my poor lambs! + +KUONI (_following him_). + +Unhappy me, my herds! + +WERNI. + +The tyrants! + +RUODI (_wringing his hands_). + Righteous Heaven! Oh, when will come +Deliverance to this doom-devoted land? + + [_Exeunt severally_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_A lime tree in front of_ STAUFFACHER's _house at Steinen, +in Schwytz, upon the public road, near a bridge_. + +WERNER STAUFFACHER, _and_ PFEIFFER, _of Lucerne, enter into +conversation_. + +PFEIFF. + +Ay, ay, friend Stauffacher, as I have said, +Swear not to Austria, if you can help it. +Hold by the Empire stoutly as of yore, +And God preserve you in your ancient freedom! + + [_Presses his hand warmly and is going_.] + +STAUFF. + +Wait till my mistress comes. Now do! You are +My guest in Schwytz--I in Lucerne am yours. + +PFEIFF. + +Thanks! thanks! But I must reach Gersau today. +Whatever grievances your rulers' pride +And grasping avarice may yet inflict, +Bear them in patience--soon a change may come. +Another Emperor may mount the throne. +But Austria's once, and you are hers forever. + + [_Exit_.] + +[STAUFFACHER _sits down sorrowfully upon a bench under the +lime tree. Gertrude, his wife, enters, and finds him in this +posture. She places herself near him, and looks at him for +some time in silence_.] + +GERT. + +So sad, my love! I scarcely know thee now. +For many a day in silence I have mark'd +A moody sorrow furrowing thy brow. +Some silent grief is weighing on thy heart. +Trust it to me. I am thy faithful wife, +And I demand my half of all thy cares. + + [STAUFFACHER _gives her his hand and is silent_.] + +Tell me what can oppress thy spirits thus? +Thy toil is blest--the world goes well with thee-- +Our barns are full--our cattle, many a score; +Our handsome team of well-fed horses, too, +Brought from the mountain pastures safely home, +To winter in their comfortable stalls. +There stands thy house--no nobleman's more fair! +'Tis newly built with timber of the best, +All grooved and fitted with the nicest skill; +Its many glistening windows tell of comfort! +'Tis quarter'd o'er with scutcheons of all hues, +And proverbs sage, which passing travelers +Linger to read and ponder o'er their meaning. + +STAUFF. + +The house is strongly built, and handsomely, +But, ah! the ground on which we built it quakes. + +GERT. + +Tell me, dear Werner, what you mean by that? + +STAUFF. + +No later gone than yesterday, I sat +Beneath this linden, thinking with delight, +How fairly all was finished, when from Küssnacht +The Viceroy and his men came riding by. +Before this house he halted in surprise: +At once I rose, and, as beseemed his rank, +Advanced respectfully to greet the lord +To whom the Emperor delegates his power, +As judge supreme within our Canton here. +"Who is the owner of this house?" he asked, +With mischief in his thoughts, for well he knew. +With prompt decision, thus I answered him: +"The Emperor, your grace--my lord and yours, +And held by me in fief." On this he answered, +"I am the Emperor's vice-regent here, +And will not that each peasant churl should build +At his own pleasure, bearing him as freely +As though he were the master in the land. +I shall make bold to put a stop to this!" +So saying, he, with menaces, rode off, +And left me musing with a heavy heart +On the fell purpose that his words betray'd. + +GERT. + +My own dear lord and husband! Wilt thou take +A word of honest counsel from thy wife? +I boast to be the noble Iberg's child, +A man of wide experience. Many a time, +As we sat spinning in the winter nights, +My sisters and myself, the people's chiefs +Were wont to gather round our father's hearth, +To read the old imperial charters, and +To hold sage converse on the country's weal. +Then heedfully I listened, marking well +What now the wise man thought, the good man wished, +And garner'd up their wisdom in my heart. +Hear then, and mark me well; for thou wilt see, +I long have known the grief that weighs thee down. +The Viceroy hates thee, fain would injure thee, +For thou past cross'd his wish to bend the Swiss +In homage to this upstart house of princes, +And kept them staunch, like their good sires of old, +In true allegiance to the Empire. Say, +Is't not so, Werner? Tell me, am I wrong? + +STAUFF. + +'Tis even so. For this doth Gessler hate me. + +GERT. + +He burns with envy, too, to see thee living +Happy and free on thine ancestral soil, +For he is landless. From the Emperor's self +Thou hold'st in fief the lands thy fathers left thee. +There's not a prince i' the Empire that can show +A better title to his heritage; +For thou hast over thee no lord but one, +And he the mightiest of all Christian kings. +Gessler, we know, is but a younger son, +His only wealth the knightly cloak he wears; +He therefore views an honest man's good fortune +With a malignant and a jealous eye. +Long has he sworn to compass thy destruction. +As yet thou art uninjured. Wilt thou wait +Till he may safely give his malice vent? +A wise man would anticipate the blow. + +STAUFF. + +What's to be done? + +[Illustration: STAUFFACHER AND HIS WIFE GERTRUDE As +performed at the Royal Theatre, Dresden, 1906.] + +GERT. + + Now hear what I advise. +Thou knowest well, how here with us in Schwytz +All worthy men are groaning underneath +This Gessler's grasping, grinding tyranny. +Doubt not the men of Unterwald as well, +And Uri, too, are chafing like ourselves, +At this oppressive and heart-wearying yoke. +For there, across the lake, the Landenberg +Wields the same iron rule as Gessler here-- +No fishing-boat comes over to our side, +But brings the tidings of some new encroachment, +Some fresh outrage, more grievous than the last. +Then it were well that some of you--true men-- +Men sound at heart, should secretly devise, +How best to shake this hateful thraldom off. +Full sure I am that God would not desert you, +But lend His favor to the righteous cause. +Hast thou no friend in Uri, one to whom +Thou frankly may'st unbosom all thy thoughts? + +STAUFF. + +I know full many a gallant fellow there, +And nobles, too--great men, of high repute, +In whom I can repose unbounded trust. + + [_Rising_.] + +Wife! What a storm of wild and perilous thoughts +Hast thou stirr'd up within my tranquil breast! +The darkest musings of my bosom thou +Hast dragg'd to light, and placed them full before me; +And what I scarce dared harbor e'en in thought, +Thou speakest plainly out with fearless tongue. +But has thou weigh'd well what thou urgest thus? +Discord will come, and the fierce clang of arms, +To scare this valley's long unbroken peace, +If we, a feeble shepherd race, shall dare +Him to the fight that lords it o'er the world. +Ev'n now they only wait some fair pretext +For setting loose their savage warrior hordes, +To scourge and ravage this devoted land, +To lord it o'er us with the victor's rights, +And, 'neath the show of lawful chastisement, +Despoil us of our chartered liberties. + +GERT. + +You, too, are men; can wield a battle axe +As well as they. God ne'er deserts the brave. + +STAUFF. + +Oh wife! a horrid, ruthless fiend is war, +That smites at once the shepherd and his flock. + +GERT. + + Whate'er great Heaven inflicts, we must endure; +But wrong is what no noble heart will bear. + +STAUFF. + +This house--thy pride--war, unrelenting war +Will burn it down. + +GERT. + + And did I think this heart +Enslaved and fettered to the things of earth, +With my own hand I'd hurl the kindling torch. + +STAUFF. + +Thou hast faith in human kindness, wife; but war +Spares not the tender infant in its cradle. + +GERT. + +There is a Friend to innocence in heaven. +Send your gaze forward, Werner--not behind. + +STAUFF. + +We men may die like men, with sword in hand; +But oh, what fate, my Gertrude, may be thine? + +GERT. + +None are so weak, but one last choice is left. +A spring from yonder bridge and I am free! + +STAUFF. (_embracing her_). + +Well may he fight for hearth and home, that clasps +A heart so rare as thine against his own! +What are the host of Emperors to him? +Gertrude, farewell! I will to Uri straight. +There lives my worthy comrade, Walter Fürst; +His thoughts and mine upon these times are one. +There, too, resides the noble Banneret +Of Attinghaus. High though of blood he be, +He loves the people, honors their old customs. +With both of these I will take counsel how +To rid us bravely of our country's foe. +Farewell! and while I am away, bear thou +A watchful eye in management at home. +The pilgrim journeying to the house of God, +And holy friar, collecting for his cloister, +To these give liberally from purse and garner. +Stauffacher's house would not be hid. Right out +Upon the public way it stands, and offers +To all that pass a hospitable roof. + +[_While they are retiring_, TELL _enters with_ BAUMGARTEN.] + +TELL. + +Now, then, you have no further need of me. +Enter yon house. 'Tis Werner Stauffacher's, +A man that is a father to distress. +See, there he is, himself! Come, follow me. + + [_They retire up. Scene changes_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_A common near Altdorf. On an eminence in the background a +Castle in progress of erection, and so far advanced that the +outline of the whole may be distinguished. The back part is +finished: men are working at the front. Scaffolding, on +which the workmen are going up and down. A slater is seen +upon the highest part of the roof. All is bustle and +activity._ + +TASKMASTER, MASON, WORKMAN _and_ LABORERS + +TASK. (_with a stick, urging on the workmen_). + +Up, up! You've rested long enough. To work! +The stones here! Now the mortar, and the lime! +And let his lordship see the work advanced, +When next he comes. These fellows crawl like snails! + + [_To two laborers, with loads_.] + +What! call ye that a load? Go, double it. +Is this the way ye earn your wages, laggards? + +1ST. W. + +'Tis very hard that we must bear the stones, +To make a keep and dungeon for ourselves! + +TASK. + +What's that you mutter? 'Tis a worthless race, +For nothing fit but just to milk their cows, +And saunter idly up and down the hills. + +OLD MAN (_sinks down exhausted_). + +I can no more. + +TASK. (_shaking him_). + + Up, up, old man, to work! + +1ST. W. + +Have you no bowels of compassion, thus +To press so hard upon a poor old man +That scarce can drag his feeble limbs along? + +MASTER MASON _and_ WORKMEN. + +Shame, shame upon you--shame! It cries to heaven. + +TASK. + +Mind your own business. I but do my duty. + +1ST W. + +Pray, Master, what's to be the name of this +Same castle, when 'tis built? + +TASK. + + The Keep of Uri; +For by it we shall keep you in subjection. + +WORK. + +The Keep of Uri? + +TASK. + + Well, why laugh at that? + +2D W. + +Keep Uri, will you, with this paltry place! + +1ST W. + +How many molehills such as that must first +Be piled up each on each, ere you make +A mountain equal to the least in Uri? + + [TASKMASTER _retires up the stage_.] + +MAS. M. + +I'll drown the mallet in the deepest lake, +That served my hand on this accursed pile. + + [_Enter_ TELL _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +STAUFF. + +O, that I had not lived to see this sight! + +TELL. + +Here 'tis not good to be. Let us proceed. + +STAUFF. + +Am I in Uri--Uri, freedom's home? + +MAS. M. + +O, Sir, if you could only see the vaults +Beneath these towers. The man that tenants them +Will ne'er hear cock crow more. + +STAUFF. + + O God! O God! + +MASON. + +Look at these ramparts and these buttresses, +That seem as they were built to last forever. + +TELL. + +What hands have built, my friend, hands can destroy. + + [_Pointing to the mountains_.] + +_That_ home of freedom God hath built for us. + +[_A drum is heard. People enter bearing a cap upon a pole, +followed by a crier. Women and children thronging +tumultuously after them_.] + +1ST W. + +What means the drum? Give heed! + +MASON. + + Why, here's a mumming! +And look, the cap--what can they mean by that? + +CRIER. + +In the Emperor's name, give ear! + +WORK. + + Hush! silence! hush! + +CRIER. + +Ye men of Uri, ye do see this cap! +It will be set upon a lofty pole +In Altdorf, in the market place: and this +Is the Lord Governor's good will and pleasure; +The cap shall have like honor as himself, +All do it reverence with bended knee, +And head uncovered; thus the King will know +Who are his true and loyal subjects here; +His life and goods are forfeit to the crown +That shall refuse obedience to the order. + +[_The people burst out into laughter. The drum beats and the +procession passes on_.] + +1ST W. + +A strange device to fall upon indeed: +Do reverence to a cap! A pretty farce! +Heard ever mortal anything like this? + +MAS. M. + +Down to a cap on bended knee, forsooth! +Rare jesting this with men of sober sense! + +1ST W. + +Nay, an it were the imperial crown! A cap! +Merely the cap of Austria! I've seen it +Hanging above the throne in Gessler's hall. + +MASON. + +The cap of Austria? Mark that! A snare +To get us into Austria's power, by Heaven! + +WORK. + +No freeborn man will stoop to such disgrace. + +MAS. M. + +Come--to our comrades, and advise with them; + + [_They retire up_.] + +TELL (_to_ STAUFFACHER). + +You see how matters stand! Farewell, my friend! + +STAUFF. + +Whither away? Oh, leave us not so soon. + +TELL. + +They look for me at home. So fare ye well. + +STAUFF. + +My heart's so full, and has so much to tell you. + +TELL. + +Words will not make a heart that's heavy light. + +STAUFF. + +Yet words may possibly conduct to deeds. + +TELL. + +Endure in silence! We can do no more. + +STAUFF. + +But shall we bear what is not to be borne? + +TELL. + +Impetuous rulers have the shortest reigns. +When the fierce south wind rises from his chasms, +Men cover up their fires, the ships in haste +Make for the harbor, and the mighty spirit +Sweeps o'er the earth, and leaves no trace behind. +Let every man live quietly at home; +Peace to the peaceful rarely is denied. + +STAUFF. + +And is it thus you view our grievances? + +TELL. + +The serpent stings not till it is provoked; +Let them alone; they'll weary of themselves, +When they shall see we are not to be roused. + +STAUFF. + +Much might be done--did we stand fast together. + +TELL. + +When the ship founders, he will best escape +Who seeks no other's safety but his own. + +STAUFF. + +And you desert the common cause so coldly? + +TELL. + +A man can safely count but on himself! + +STAUFF. + + Nay, even the weak grow strong by union. + +TELL. + +But the strong man is strongest when alone. + +STAUFF. + +So, then, your country cannot count on you, +If in despair she rise against her foes. + +TELL. + +Tell rescues the lost sheep from yawning gulfs: +Is he a man, then, to desert his friends? +Yet, whatsoe'er you do, spare me from council! +I was not born to ponder and select; +But when your course of action is resolved, +Then call on Tell: you shall not find him fail. + +[_Exeunt severally. A sudden tumult is heard around the +scaffolding_.] + +MASON (_running in_). + +What's wrong? + +FIRST WORKMAN (_running forward_). + + The slater's fallen from the roof. + +BERTHA (_rushing in_). + +Heavens! Is he dashed to pieces? Save him, help! +If help be possible, save him! Here is gold. + + [_Throws her trinkets among the people_.] + +MASON. + +Hence with your gold--your universal charm, +And remedy for ill! When you have torn +Fathers from children, husbands from their wives, +And scattered woe and wail throughout the land, +You think with gold to compensate for all. +Hence! Till we saw you, we were happy men; +With you came misery and dark despair. + +BERTHA (_to the_ TASKMASTER, _who has returned_). + +Lives he? + + [TASKMASTER _shakes his head_.] + + Ill-omened towers, with curses built, +And doomed with curses to be tenanted! + + [_Exit_.] + + +SCENE IV + +_The house of_ WALTER FÜRST. WALTER FÜRST _and_ ARNOLD VON +MELCHTHAL _enter simultaneously at different sides_. + +MELCH. + +Good Walter Fürst + +FÜRST. + + If we should be surprised! +Stay where you are. We are beset with spies. + +MELCH. + +Have you no news for me from Unterwald? +What of my father? 'Tis not to be borne +Thus to be pent up like a felon here! +What have I done so heinous that I must +Skulk here in hiding, like a murderer? +I only laid my staff across the fists +Of the pert varlet, when before my eyes, +By order of the governor, he tried +To drive away my handsome team of oxen. + +FÜRST. + +You are too rash by far. He did no more +Than what the governor had ordered him. +You had transgress'd, and therefore should have paid +The penalty, however hard, in silence. + +MELCH. + +Was I to brook the fellow's saucy gibe-- +"That if the peasant must have bread to eat, +Why, let him go and draw the plough himself?" +It cut me to the very soul to see +My oxen, noble creatures, when the knave +Unyoked them from the plough. As though they felt +The wrong, they lowed and butted with their horns. +On this I could contain myself no longer, +And, overcome by passion, struck him down. + +FÜRST. + +O, we old men can scarce command ourselves! +And can we wonder youth breaks out of bounds? + +MELCH. + +I'm only sorry for my father's sake! +To be away from him, that needs so much +My fostering care! The governor detests him, +Because, whene'er occasion served, he has +Stood stoutly up for right and liberty. +Therefore they'll bear him hard--the poor old man! +And there is none to shield him from their grip. +Come what come may, I must go home again. + +FÜRST. + +Compose yourself, and wait in patience till +We get some tidings o'er from Unterwald. +Away I away! I hear a knock! Perhaps +A message from the Viceroy! Get thee in! +You are not safe from Landenberger's[42] arm +In Uri, for these tyrants pull together. + +MELCH. + +They teach us Switzers what _we_ ought to do. + +FÜRST. + +Away! I'll call you when the coast is clear. + + [MELCHTHAL _retires_.] + +Unhappy youth! I dare not tell him all +The evil that my boding heart predicts! +Who's there? The door ne'er opens, but I look +For tidings of mishap. Suspicion lurks +With darkling treachery in every nook. +Even to our inmost rooms they force their way, +These myrmidons of power; and soon we'll need +To fasten bolts and bars upon our doors. + +[_He opens the door, and steps back in surprise as_ WERNER +STAUFFACHER _enters_.] + +What do I see? You, Werner? Now, by Heaven! +A valued guest, indeed. No man e'er set +His foot across this threshold, more esteem'd, +Welcome! thrice welcome, Werner, to my roof! +What brings you here? What seek you here in Uri? + +STAUFFACHER (_shakes_ FÜRST by _the hand_). + +The olden times and olden Switzerland. + +FÜRST. + +You bring them with you. See how glad I am, +My heart leaps at the very sight of you. +Sit down--sit down, and tell me how you left +Your charming wife, fair Gertrude? Iberg's child, +And clever as her father. Not a man +That wends from Germany, by Meinrad's Cell,[43] +To Italy, but praises far and wide +Your house's hospitality. But say, +Have you come here direct from Flüelen, +And have you noticed nothing on your way, +Before you halted at my door? + +STAUFFACHER (_sits down_). + + I saw +A work in progress, as I came along, +I little thought to see--that likes me ill. + +FÜRST. + +O friend! you've lighted on my thought at once. + +STAUFF. + +Such things in Uri ne'er were known before. +Never was prison here in man's remembrance, +Nor ever any stronghold but the grave. + +FÜRST. + +You name it well. It is the grave of freedom. + +STAUFF. + +Friend, Walter Fürst, I will be plain with you. +No idle curiosity it is +That brings me here, but heavy cares. I left +Thraldom at home, and thraldom meets me here. +Our wrongs, e'en now, are more than we can bear, +And who shall tell us where they are to end? +From eldest time the Switzer has been free, +Accustom'd only to the mildest rule. +Such things as now we suffer ne'er were known, +Since herdsman first drove cattle to the hills. + +FÜRST. + +Yes, our oppressions are unparallel'd! +Why, even our own good lord of Attinghaus, +Who lived in olden times, himself declares +They are no longer to be tamely borne. + +STAUFF. + +In Unterwalden yonder 'tis the same; +And bloody has the retribution been. +The imperial Seneschal, the Wolfshot, who +At Rossberg dwelt, long'd for forbidden fruit-- +Baumgarten's wife, that lives at Alzellen, +He tried to make a victim to his lust, +On which the husband slew him with his age. + +FÜRST. + +O, Heaven is just in all its judgments still! +Baumgarten, say you? A most worthy man. +Has he escaped, and is he safely hid? + +STAUFF. + +Your son-in-law conveyed him o'er the lake, +And he lies hidden in my house at Steinen. +He brought the tidings with him of a thing +That has been done at Sarnen, worse than all, +A thing to make the very heart run blood! + +FÜRST (_attentively_). + +Say on. What is it? + +STAUFF. + + There dwells in Melchthal, then, +Just as you enter by the road from Kerns, +An upright man, named Henry of the Halden, +A man of weight and influence in the Diet. + +FÜRST. + +Who knows him not? But what of him? Proceed! + +STAUFF. + +The Landenberg, to punish some offense +Committed by the old man's son, it seems, +Had given command to take the youth's best pair +Of oxen from his plough; on which the lad +Struck down the messenger and took to flight. + +FÜRST. + +But the old father--tell me, what of him? + +STAUFF. + +The Landenberg sent for him, and required +He should produce his son upon the spot; +And when the old man protested, and with truth, +That he knew nothing of the fugitive, +The tyrant call'd his torturers. + +FÜRST (_springs up and tries to lead him to the other side_). + + Hush, no more! + +STAUFFACHER (_with increasing warmth_). + +"And though thy son," he cried, "has 'scaped me now, +I have thee fast, and thou shalt feel my vengeance." +With that they flung the old man to the ground, +And plunged the pointed steel into his eyes. + +FÜRST. + +Merciful Heaven! + +MELCHTHAL (_rushing out_). + Into his eyes, his eyes? + +STAUFFACHER (_addresses himself in astonishment to_ WALTER +FÜRST). + +Who is this youth? + +MELCHTHAL (_grasping him convulsively_). + Into his eyes? Speak, speak! + +FÜRST. + +O, miserable hour! + +STAUFF. + +Who is it, tell me! + + [STAUFFACHER _makes a sign to him_.] + +It is his son! All-righteous Heaven! + +MELCH. + + And I +Must be from thence! What! into both his eyes? + +FÜRST. + +Be calm, be calm; and bear it like a man! + +MELCH. + +And all for me--for my mad wilful folly! +Blind, did you say? Quite blind--and both his eyes? + +STAUFF. + +Ev'n so. 'The fountain of his sight is quench'd, +He ne'er will see the blessed sunshine more. + +FÜRST. + +Oh, spare his anguish! + +MELCH. + +Never, never more! + +[_Presses his hands upon his eyes and is silent for some +moments: then turning from one to the other speaks in a +subdued tone, broken by sobs._] + +O the eye's light, of all the gifts of Heaven, +The dearest, best! From light all beings live-- +Each fair created thing--the very plants +Turn with a joyful transport to the light, +And he--he must drag on through all his days +In endless darkness! Never more for him +The sunny meads shall glow, the flow'rets bloom; +Nor shall he more behold the roseate tints +Of the iced mountain top! To die is nothing. +But to have life, and not have sight--oh, that +Is misery indeed! Why do you look +So piteously at me? I have two eyes, +Yet to my poor blind father can give neither! +No, not one gleam of that great sea of light, +That with its dazzling splendor floods my gaze. + +STAUFF. + +Ah, I must swell the measure of your grief, +Instead of soothing it. The worst, alas! +Remains to tell. They've stripp'd him of his all; +Naught have they left him, save his staff, on which, +Blind, and in rags, he moves from door to door. + +MELCH. + +Naught but his staff to the old eyeless man! +Stripp'd of his all--even of the light of day, +The common blessing of the meanest wretch? +Tell me no more of patience, of concealment! +Oh, what a base and coward thing am I, +That on mine own security I thought +And took no care of thine! Thy precious head +Left as a pledge within the tyrant's grasp! +Hence, craven-hearted prudence, hence! And all +My thoughts be vengeance, and the despot's blood! +I'll seek him straight--no power shall stay me now-- +And at his hands demand my father's eyes. +I'll beard him 'mid a thousand myrmidons! +What's life to me, if in his heart's best blood +I cool the fever of this mighty anguish. + + [_He is going_.] + +FÜRST. + +Stay, this is madness, Melchthal! What avails +Your single arm against his power? He sits +At Sarnen high within his lordly keep, +And, safe within its battlemented walls, +May laugh to scorn your unavailing rage. + +MELCH. + +And though he sat within the icy domes +Of yon far Schreckhorn--ay, or higher, where, +Veil'd since eternity, the Jungfrau soars, +Still to the tyrant would I make my way; +With twenty comrades minded like myself, +I'd lay his fastness level with the earth! +And if none follow me, and if you all, +In terror for your homesteads and your herds, +Bow in submission to the tyrant's yoke, +Round me I'll call the herdsmen on the hills, +And there beneath heaven's free and boundless roof, +Where men still feel as men, and hearts are true, +Proclaim aloud this foul enormity! + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FÜRST). + + +The measure's full--and are we then to wait +Till some extremity-- + +MELCH. + + Peace! What extremity +Remains for us to dread? What, when our eyes +No longer in their sockets are secure? +Heavens! Are we helpless? Wherefore did we learn +To bend the cross-bow--wield the battle-axe? +What living creature but in its despair, +Finds for itself a weapon of defence? +The baited stag will turn, and with the show +Of his dread antlers hold the hounds at bay; +The chamois drags the huntsman down th' abyss; +The very ox, the partner of man's toil, +The sharer of his roof, that meekly bends +The strength of his huge neck beneath the yoke, +Springs up, if he's provoked, whets his strong horn, +And tosses his tormentor to the clouds. + +FÜRST. + +If the three Cantons thought as we three do, +Something might, then, be done, with good effect. + +STAUFF. + +When Uri calls, when Unterwald replies, +Schwytz will be mindful of her ancient league.[44] + +MELCH. + +I've many friends in Unterwald, and none +That would not gladly venture life and limb, +If fairly back'd and aided by the rest. +Oh! sage and reverend fathers of this land, +Here do I stand before your riper years, +An unskill'd youth, who in the Diet must +Into respectful silence hush his voice. +Yet do not, for that I am young, and want +Experience, slight my counsel and my words. +'Tis not the wantonness of youthful blood +That fires my spirit; but a pang so deep +That e'en the flinty rocks must pity me. +You, too, are fathers, heads of families, +And you must wish to have a virtuous son, +To reverence your gray hairs, and shield your eyes +With pious and affectionate regard. +Do not, I pray, because in limb and fortune +You still are unassail'd, and still your eyes +Revolve undimm'd and sparkling in their spheres-- +Oh, do not, therefore, disregard our wrongs! +Above you, also, hangs the tyrant's sword. +You, too, have striven to alienate the land +From Austria. This was all my father's crime: +You share his guilt, and _may_ his punishment. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FÜRST). + +Do thou resolve! I am prepared to follow. + +FÜRST. + +First let us learn what steps the noble lords +Von Sillinen and Attinghaus propose. +Their names would rally thousands to the cause. + +MELCH. + +Is there a name within the Forest Mountains +That carries more respect than yours--and yours? +On names like these the people build their trust +In time of need--such names are household words. +Rich was your heritage of manly worth, +And richly have you added to its stores. +What need of nobles? Let us do the work +Ourselves. Yes, though we have to stand alone, +We shall be able to maintain our rights. + +STAUFF. + +The nobles' wrongs are not so great as ours. +The torrent, that lays waste the lower grounds, +Hath not ascended to the uplands yet. +But let them see the country once in arms, +They'll not refuse to lend a helping hand. + +FÜRST. + +Were there an umpire 'twixt ourselves and Austria, +Justice and law might then decide our quarrel. +But our oppressor is our Emperor too, +And judge supreme. 'Tis God must help us, then, +And our own arm! Be yours the task to rouse +The men of Schwytz; I'll rally friends in Uri. +But whom are we to send to Unterwald? + +MELCH. + +Thither send me. Whom should it more concern? + +FÜRST. + +No, Melchthal, no; you are my guest, and I +Must answer for your safety. + +MELCH. + + Let me go. +I know each forest track and mountain path; +Friends too, I'll find, be sure, on every hand, +To give me willing shelter from the foe. + +STAUFF. + +Nay, let him go; no traitors harbor there: +For tyranny is so abhorred in Unterwald, +No tools can there be found to work her will. +In the low valleys, too, the Alzeller +Will gain confederates, and rouse the country. + +MELCH. + +But how shall we communicate, and not +Awaken the suspicion of the tyrants? + +STAUFF. + +Might we not meet at Brunnen or at Treib, +Where merchant vessels with their cargoes come? + +FÜRST. + +We must not go so openly to work. +Hear my opinion. On the lake's left bank, +As we sail hence to Brunnen, right against +The Mytenstein, deep-hidden in the wood +A meadow lies, by shepherds called the Rootli, +Because the wood has been uprooted there. +'Tis where our Canton bound'ries verge on yours;-- + + [_To_ MELCHTHAL.] + +Your boat will carry you across from Schwytz. + + [_To_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Thither by lonely by-paths let us wend +At midnight, and deliberate o'er our plans. +Let each bring with him there ten trusty men, +All one at heart with us; and then we may +Consult together for the general weal, +And, with God's guidance, fix what next to do. + +STAUFF. + +So let it be. And now your true right hand! +Yours, too, young man! and as we now three men +Among ourselves thus knit our hands together +In all sincerity and truth, e'en so +Shall we three Cantons, too, together stand +In victory and defeat, in life and death. + +FÜRST _and_ MELCHTHAL. + +In life and death. + +[_They hold their hands clasped together for some moments in +silence_.] + +MELCH. + + Alas, my old blind father! +The day of freedom, that thou canst not see. +But thou shalt hear it, when from Alp to Alp +The beacon fires throw up their flaming signs, +And the proud castles of the tyrants fall, +Into thy cottage shall the Switzer burst, +Bear the glad tidings to thine ear, and o'er +Thy darken'd way shall Freedom's radiance pour. + + * * * * * + + + +ACT II + + +SCENE I + + +_The Mansion of the_ BARON of ATTINGHAUSEN. _A Gothic Hall, +decorated with escutcheons and helmets_. The BARON, _a +gray-headed man, eighty-five years old, tall and of a +commanding mien, clad in a furred pelisse, and leaning on a +staff tipped with chamois horn_. KUONI _and six hinds +standing round him with rakes and scythes_. ULRICH of RUDENZ +_enters in the costume of a Knight_. + + +RUDENZ. + +Uncle, I'm here! Your will? + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + First let me share, +After the ancient custom of our house, +The morning cup, with these my faithful servants! + + [_He drinks from a cup, which is then passed round_.] + +Time was, I stood myself in field and wood, +With mine own eyes directing all their toil, +Even as my banner led them in the fight; +Now I am only fit to play the steward: +And, if the genial sun come not to me, +I can no longer seek it on the hills. +Thus slowly, in an ever narrowing sphere, +I move on to the narrowest and the last, +Where all life's pulses cease. I now am but +The shadow of my former self, and that +Is fading fast--'twill soon be but a name. + +KUONI (_offering_ RUDENZ _the cup_). + +A pledge, young master! + + [RUDENZ _hesitates to take the cup_.] + + Nay, Sir, drink it off. +One cup, one heart! You know our proverb, Sir? + +ATTING. + +Go, children, and at eve, when work is done, +We'll meet and talk the country's business over. + + [_Exeunt Servants_.] + +Belted and plumed, and all thy bravery on! +Thou art for Altdorf--for the castle, boy? + +RUDENZ. + +Yes, uncle. Longer may I not delay-- + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_sitting down_). + + +Why in such haste? Say, are thy youthful hours +Doled in such niggard measure, that thou must +Be chary of them to thy aged uncle? + +RUDENZ. + +I see my presence is not needed here; +I am but as a stranger in this house. + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_gazes fixedly at him for a considerable +time_). + +Ay, pity 'tis thou art! Alas, that home +To thee has grown so strange! Oh, Uly! Uly! +I scarce do know thee now, thus deck'd in silks, +The peacock's feather[45] flaunting in thy cap, +And purple mantle round thy shoulders flung; +Thou look'st upon the peasant with disdain; +And tak'st his honest greeting with a blush. + +RUDENZ. + +All honor due to him I gladly pay, +But must deny the right he would usurp. + +ATTING. + +The sore displeasure of its monarch rests +Upon our land, and every true man's heart +Is full of sadness for the grievous wrongs +We suffer from our tyrants. Thou alone +Art all unmoved amid the general grief. +Abandoning thy friends, thou tak'st thy stand +Beside thy country's foes, and, as in scorn +Of our distress, pursuest giddy joys, +Courting the smiles of princes all the while +Thy country bleeds beneath their cruel scourge. + +RUDENZ. + +The land is sore oppress'd, I know it, uncle. +But why? Who plunged it into this distress? +A word, one little easy word, might buy +Instant deliverance from all our ills, +And win the good will of the Emperor. +Woe unto those who seal the people's eyes, +And make them adverse to their country's good-- +The men, who, for their own vile selfish ends, +Are seeking to prevent the Forest States +From swearing fealty to Austria's House, +As all the countries round about have done. +It fits their humor well, to take their seats +Amid the nobles on the Herrenbank;[46] +They'll have the Kaiser for their lord, forsooth-- +That is to say, they'll have no lord at all. + +ATTING. + +Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy! + +RUDENZ. + +You urged me to this answer. Hear me out. +What, uncle, is the character you've stoop'd +To fill contentedly through life? Have you +No higher pride than in these lonely wilds +To be the Landamman or Banneret,[47] +The petty chieftain of a shepherd race? +How! Were it not a far more glorious choice, +To bend in homage to our royal lord, +And swell the princely splendors of his court, +Than sit at home, the peer of your own vassals, +And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns? + +ATTING. + +Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see, +The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear, +And pour'd its subtle poison in thy heart. + +RUDENZ. + +Yes, I conceal it not. It doth offend +My inmost soul, to hear the stranger's gibes, +That taunt us with the name of "Peasant Nobles!" +Think you the heart that's stirring here can brook, +While all the young nobility around +Are reaping honor under Habsburg's banner, +That I should loiter, in inglorious ease, +Here on the heritage my fathers left, +And, in the dull routine of vulgar toil, +Lose all life's glorious spring? In other lands +Great deeds are done. A world of fair renown +Beyond these mountains stirs in martial pomp. +My helm and shield are rusting in the hall; +The martial trumpet's spirit-stirring blast, +The herald's call, inviting to the lists, +Rouse not the echoes of these vales, where naught +Save cowherd's horn and cattle bell is heard, +In one unvarying dull monotony. + +ATTING. + +Deluded boy, seduced by empty show! +Despise the land that gave thee birth! Ashamed +Of the good ancient customs of thy sires! +The day will come, when thou, with burning tears, +Wilt long for home, and for thy native hills, +And that dear melody of tuneful herds, +Which now, in proud disgust, thou dost despise! +A day when wistful pangs shall shake thy heart, +Hearing their music in a foreign land. +Oh! potent is the spell that binds to home! +No, no, the cold, false world is not for thee. +At the proud court, with thy true heart, thou wilt +Forever feel a stranger among strangers. +The world asks virtues of far other stamp +Than thou hast learned within these simple vales. +But go--go thither--barter thy free soul, +Take land in fief, be minion to a prince, +Where thou might'st be lord paramount, and prince +Of all thine own unburden'd heritage! +O, Uly, Uly, stay among thy people! +Go not to Altdorf. Oh, abandon not +The sacred cause of thy wrong'd native land! +I am the last of all my race. My name +Ends with me. Yonder hang my helm and shield; +They will be buried with me in the grave.[48] +And must I think, when yielding up my breath, +That thou but wait'st the closing of mine eyes, +To stoop thy knee to this new feudal court, +And take in vassalage from Austria's hands +The noble lands, which I from God received, +Free and unfetter'd as the mountain air! + +RUDENZ. + +'Tis vain for us to strive against the king. +The world pertains to him. Shall we alone, +In mad presumptuous obstinacy, strive +To break that mighty chain of lands, which he +Hath drawn around us with his giant grasp? +His are the markets, his the courts--his, too, +The highways; nay, the very carrier's horse, +That traffics on the Gotthardt, pays him toll. +By his dominions, as within a net, +We are inclosed, and girded round about-- +And will the Empire shield us? Say, can it +Protect itself 'gainst Austria's growing power? +To God, and not to emperors must we look! +What store can on their promises be placed, +When they, to meet their own necessities, +Can pawn, and even alienate the towns +That flee for shelter 'neath the Eagle's wings?[49] +No, uncle! It is wise and wholesome prudence, +In times like these, when faction's all abroad, +To vow attachment to some mighty chief. +The imperial crown's transferred from line to line.[50] +It has no memory for faithful service +But to secure the favor of these great +Hereditary masters, were to sow +Seed for a future harvest. + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + Art so wise? +Wilt thou see clearer than thy noble sires, +Who battled for fair freedom's priceless gem +With life, and fortune, and heroic arm? +Sail down the lake to Lucern, there inquire +How Austria's thraldom weighs the Cantons down. +Soon she will come to count our sheep, our cattle, +To portion out the Alps, e'en to their peaks, +And in our own free woods to hinder us +From striking down the eagle or the stag; +To set her tolls on every bridge and gate, +Impoverish us, to swell her lust of sway, +And drain our dearest blood to feed her wars. +No, if our blood must flow, let it be shed +In our own cause! We purchase liberty +More cheaply far than bondage. + +RUDENZ. + + What can we, +A shepherd race, against great Albert's hosts? + +ATTING. + +Learn, foolish boy, to know this shepherd race! +I know them, I have led them on in fight-- +I saw them in the battle of Favenz. +What! Austria try, forsooth, to force on us +A yoke we are determined not to bear! +Oh, learn to feel from what a stock thou'rt sprung; +Cast not, for tinsel trash and idle show, +The precious jewel of thy worth away. +To be the chieftain of a free born race, +Bound to thee only by their unbought love, +Ready to stand--to fight--to die with thee, +Be that thy pride, be that thy noblest boast! +Knit to thy heart the ties of kindred--home-- +Cling to the land, the dear land of thy sires, +Grapple to that with thy whole heart and soul! +Thy power is rooted deep and strongly here, +But in yon stranger world thou'lt stand alone, +A trembling reed beat down by every blast. +Oh come! 'tis long since we have seen thee, Uly! +Tarry but this one day. Only today! +Go not to Altdorf. Wilt thou? Not today! +For this one day, bestow thee on thy friends. + + [_Takes his hand_.] + +RUDENZ. + +I gave my word. Unhand me! I am bound. + +ATTING. (_drops his hand and says sternly_). + +Bound, didst thou say? Oh yes, unhappy boy, +Thou art indeed. But not by word or oath. +'Tis by the silken mesh of love thou'rt bound. + + [RUDENZ _turns away_.] + +Ay, hide thee, as thou wilt. 'Tis she, I know, +Bertha of Bruneck, draws thee to the court; +'Tis she that chains thee to the Emperor's service. +Thou think'st to win the noble knightly maid +By thy apostacy. Be not deceived. +She is held out before thee as a lure; +But never meant for innocence like thine. + +RUDENZ. + +No more, I've heard enough. So fare you well. + + _[Exit.]_ + +ATTING. + +Stay, Uly! Stay! Rash boy, he's gone! I can +Nor hold him back, nor save him from destruction. +And so the Wolfshot has deserted us; +Others will follow his example soon. +This foreign witchery, sweeping o'er our hills, +Tears with its potent spell our youth away. +O luckless hour, when men and manners strange +Into these calm and happy valleys came, +To warp our primitive and guileless ways! +The new is pressing on with might. The old, +The good, the simple, all fleet fast away. +New times come on. A race is springing up +That think not as their fathers thought before! +What do I hear? All, all are in the grave +With whom erewhile I moved, and held converse; +My age has long been laid beneath the sod +Happy the man, who may not live to see +What shall be done by those that follow me! + + +SCENE II + + +_A meadow surrounded by high rocks and wooded ground. On the +rocks are tracks, with rails and ladders, by which the +peasants are afterward seen descending. In the background +the lake is observed, and over it a moon rainbow in the +early part of the scene. The prospect is closed by lofty +mountains, with glaciers rising behind them. The stage is +dark, but the lake and glaciers glisten in the moonlight._ + +MELCHTHAL, BAUMGARTEN, WINKELRIED, MEYER VON SARNEN BURKHART +AM BUHEL, ARNOLD VON SEWA, KLAUS VON DER FLUE, _and four +other peasants, all armed._ + +MELCHTHAL _(behind the scenes)_. + +The mountain pass is open. Follow me! +I see the rock, and little cross upon it: +This is the spot; here is the Rootli. + + _[They enter with torches.]_ + +WINKELRIED. + + Hark! + +SEWA. + +The coast is clear. + +MEYER. + + None of our comrades come? +We are the first, we Unterwaldeners. + +MELCH. + + How far is't i' the night? + +BAUMGARTEN. + + The beacon watch +Upon the Selisberg has just called two. + + _[A bell is heard at a distance.]_ + +MEYER. + +Hush! Hark! + +BUHEL. + + The forest chapel's matin bell +Chimes clearly o'er the lake from Switzerland. + +VON F. + +The air is clear and bears the sound so far. + +MELCH. + +Go, you and you, and light some broken boughs, +Let's bid them welcome with a cheerful blaze. + +_[Two peasants exeunt_.] + +SEWA. + +The moon shines fair tonight. Beneath its beams +The lake reposes, bright as burnish'd steel. + +BUHEL. They'll have an easy passage. + +WINK. _(pointing to the lake_). + + Ha! look there! +Do you see nothing? + +MEYER. + + Ay, indeed, I do! +A rainbow in the middle of the night. + +MELCH. + +Formed by the bright reflection of the moon! + +VON F. + +A sign most strange and wonderful, indeed! +Many there be who ne'er have seen the like. + +SEWA. + +'Tis doubled, see, a paler one above! + +BAUM. + +A boat is gliding yonder right beneath it. + +MELCH. + +That must be Werner Stauffacher! I knew +The worthy patriot would not tarry long. + + _[Goes with_ BAUMGARTEN _toward the shore_.] + +MEYER. + +The Uri men are like to be the last. + +BUHEL. + +They're forced to take a winding circuit through +The mountains; for the Viceroy's spies are out. + +_[In the meanwhile the two peasants have kindled a fire in +the centre of the stage.]_ MELCHTHAL _(on the shore)_. + +Who's there? The word? + +STAUFFACHER _(from below_). + + Friends of the country. + +_[All retire up the stage, toward the party landing from the +boat. Enter_ STAUFFACHER, ITEL REDING, HANS AUF DER MAUER, +JORG IM HOFE, CONRAD HUNN, ULRICH DER SCHMIDT, JOST VON +WEILER, _and three other peasants, armed.]_ + +ALL. + + Welcome! + +_[While the rest remain behind exchanging greetings_, +MELCHTHAL _Comes forward with_ STAUFFACHER.] + +MELCH. + +Oh worthy Stauffacher, I've look'd but now +On him who could not look on me again; +I've laid my hands upon his rayless eyes, +And on their vacant orbits sworn a vow +Of vengeance, only to be cool'd in blood. + +STAUFF. + +Speak not of vengeance. We are here, to meet +The threatened evil, not to avenge the past. +Now tell me what you've done, and what secured, +To aid the common cause in Unterwald. +How stand the peasantry disposed, and how +Yourself escaped the wiles of treachery? + +MELCH. + +Through the Surenen's fearful mountain chain, +Where dreary ice-fields stretch on every side, +And sound is none save the hoarse vulture's cry, +I reach'd the Alpine pasture, where the herds +From Uri and from Engelberg resort, +And turn their cattle forth to graze in common. +Still as I went along, I slaked my thirst +With the coarse oozings of the glacier heights +That thro' the crevices come foaming down, +And turned to rest me in the herdsmen's cots,[51] +Where I was host and guest, until I gain'd +The cheerful homes and social haunts of men. +Already through these distant vales had spread +The rumor of this last atrocity; +And wheresoe'er I went, at every door, +Kind words saluted me and gentle looks. +I found these simple spirits all in arms +Against our rulers' tyrannous encroachments. +For as their Alps through each succeeding year +Yield the same roots--their streams flow ever on +In the same channels--nay, the clouds and winds +The selfsame course unalterably pursue, +So have old customs there, from sire to son, +Been handed down, unchanging and unchanged; +Nor will they brook to swerve or turn aside +From the fixed even tenor of their life. +With grasp of their hard hands they welcomed me-- +Took from the walls their rusty falchions down-- +And from their eyes the soul of valor flash'd +With joyful lustre, as I spoke those names, +Sacred to every peasant in the mountains, +Your own and Walter Fürst's. Whate'er your voice +Should dictate as the right, they swore to do; +And you they swore to follow e'en to death. +--So sped I on from house to house, secure +In the guest's sacred privilege;--and when +I reached at last the valley of my home, +Where dwell my kinsmen, scatter'd far and near-- +And when I found my father, stript and blind, +Upon the stranger's straw, fed by the alms +Of charity-- + +STAUFFACHER. + + Great heavens! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Yet wept I not! +No--not in weak and unavailing tears +Spent I the force of my fierce burning anguish; +Deep in my bosom, like some precious treasure, +I lock'd it fast, and thought on deeds alone. +Through every winding of the hills I crept-- +No valley so remote but I explored it; +Nay, at the very glacier's ice-clad base, +I sought and found the homes of living men; +And still, where'er my wandering footsteps turn'd, +The selfsame hatred of these tyrants met me. +For even there, at vegetation's verge, +Where the numb'd earth is barren of all fruits, +Their grasping hands had been for plunder thrust. +Into the hearts of all this honest race +The story of my wrongs struck deep, and now +They, to a man, are ours; both heart and hand. + +STAUFF. + +Great things, indeed, you've wrought in little time. + +MELCH. + +I did still more than this. The fortresses, +Rossberg and Sarnen, are the country's dread; +For from behind their adamantine walls +The foe, like eagle from his eyrie swoops, +And, safe himself, spreads havoc o'er the land. +With my own eyes I wish'd to weigh its strength, +So went to Sarnen, and explored the castle. + +STAUFF. + +How! Venture even into the tiger's den? + +MELCH. + +Disguised in pilgrim's weeds I entered it; +I saw the Viceroy feasting at his board-- +Judge if I'm master of myself or no! +I saw the tyrant, and I slew him not! + +STAUFF. + +Fortune, indeed, upon your boldness smiled. + +_[Meanwhile the others have arrived and join_ MELCHTHAL +_and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Yet tell me now, I pray, who are the friends, +The worthy men, who came along with you +Make me acquainted with them, that we may +Speak frankly, man to man, and heart to heart. + +MEYER. + +In the three Cantons, who, sir, knows not you? +Meyer of Sarnen is my name; and this +Is Struth of Winkelried, my sister's son. + +STAUFF. + +No unknown name. A Winkelried it was +Who slew the dragon in the fen at Weiler, +And lost his life in the encounter, too. + +WINK. + +That, Master Stauffacher, was my grandfather. + +MELCHTHAL _(pointing to two peasants)_. + +These two are men who till the cloister lands +Of Engelberg, and live behind the forest. +You'll not think ill of them, because they're serfs, +And sit not free upon the soil, like us; +They love the land, and bear a good repute. + +STAUFFACHER _(to them)_. + +Give me your hands. He has good cause for thanks +That to no man his body's service owes. +But worth is worth, no matter where 'tis found. + +HUNN. + +That is Herr Reding, sir, our old Landamman; + +MEYER. + +I know him well. I am at law with him +About a piece of ancient heritage. +Herr Reding, we are enemies in court-- +Here we are one. + + _[Shakes his hand_.] + +STAUFFACHER. + + That's well and bravely said. + +WINK. Listen! They come. The horn of Uri! Hark! + +_[On the right and left armed men are seen descending the +rocks with torches_.] + +MAUER. + +Look, is not that the holy man of God? +A worthy priest! The terrors of the night, +And the way's pains and perils scare not him, +A faithful shepherd caring for his flock. +BAUM. The Sacrist follows him, and Walter Fürst. +But where is Tell? I do not see him there. + +[WALTER FÜRST, RÖSSELMANN _the Pastor,_ PETERMANN _the +Sacrist_, KUONI _the Shepherd_ WERNI _the Huntsman_, RUODI +_the Fisherman, and other countrymen, thirty-three in all, +advance and take their places round the fire.]_ + +FÜRST. + +Thus must we, on the soil our fathers left us, +Creep forth by stealth to meet like murderers, +And in the night, that should her mantle lend +Only to, crime and black conspiracy, +Assert our own good rights which yet are clear +As is the radiance of the noonday sun. + +MELCH. + +So be it. What is hatch'd in gloom of night +Shall free and boldly meet the morning light. + +RÖSSEL. + +Confederates! Listen to the words which God +Inspires my heart withal. Here we are met, +To represent the general weal. In us +Are all the people of the land convened. +Then let us hold the Diet, as of old, +And as we're wont in peaceful times to do. +The time's necessity be our excuse, +If there be aught informal in this meeting. +Still, wheresoe'er men strike for justice, there +Is God, and now beneath His heav'n we stand. + +STAUFF. + +'Tis well advised.--Let us, then, hold the Diet, +According to our ancient usages.-- +Though it be night, there's sunshine in our cause. + +MELCH. + +Few though our numbers be, the hearts are here +Of the whole people; here the BEST are met. + +HUNN. + +The ancient books may not be near at hand, +Yet are they graven in our inmost hearts. + +RÖSSEL. + +'Tis well. And now, then, let a ring be formed, +And plant the swords of power within the ground.[52] + +MAUER. + +Let the Landamman step into his place, +And by his side his secretaries stand. + +SACRIST. + +There are three Cantons here. Which hath the right +To give the head to the united Council? +Schwytz may contest that dignity with Uri; +We Unterwald'ners enter not the field. + +MELCH. + +We stand aside. We are but suppliants here, +Invoking aid from our more potent friends. + +STAUFF. + +Let Uri have the sword. Her banner takes, +In battle, the precedence of our own. + +FÜRST. + +Schwytz, then, must share the honor of the sword; +For she's the honored ancestor of all. + +RÖSSEL. + +Let me arrange this generous controversy. +Uri shall lead in battle--Schwytz in Council. + +FÜRST _(gives_ STAUFFACHER _his hand)_. + +Then take your place. + +STAUFFACHER. + + Not I. Some older man. + +HOFE. + +Ulrich, the Smith, is the most aged here. + +MAUER. + +A worthy man, but not a freeman; no! +--No bondman can be judge in Switzerland. + +STAUFF. + +Is not Herr Reding here, our old Landamman! +Where can we find a worthier man than he? + +FÜRST. + +Let him be Amman and the Diet's chief! +You that agree with me, hold up your hands! + + _[All hold up their right hands_.] + +REDING _(stepping into the centre)_. + +I cannot lay my hands upon the books; +But by yon everlasting stars I swear, +Never to swerve from justice and the right. + +_[The two swords are placed before him, and a circle formed; +Schwytz in the centre, Uri on his right, Unterwald on his +left.]_ + +REDING _(resting on his battle sword)_. + +Why, at the hour when spirits walk the earth, +Meet the three Cantons of the mountains here, +Upon the lake's inhospitable shore? +What may the purport be of this new league +We here contract beneath the starry heaven? + +STAUFFACHER _(entering the circle_). + +'Tis no new league that here we now contract; +But one our fathers framed, in ancient times, +We purpose to renew! For know, confederates, +Though mountain ridge and lake divide our bounds, +And each Canton by its own laws is ruled, +Yet are we but one race, born of one blood, +And all are children of one common home. + +WINK. + +Is then the burden of our legends true, +That we came hither from a distant land? +Oh, tell us what you know, that our new league +May reap fresh vigor from the leagues of old. + +STAUFF. + +Hear, then, what aged herdsmen tell. There dwelt +A mighty people in the land that lies +Back to the north. The scourge of famine came; +And in this strait 'twas publicly resolved +That each tenth man, on whom the lot might fall, +Should leave the country. They obey'd--and forth, +With loud lamentings, men and women went, +A mighty host; and to the south moved on, +Cutting their way through Germany by the sword, +Until they gained these pine-clad hills of ours; +Nor stopp'd they ever on their forward course, +Till at the shaggy dell they halted where +The Müta flows through its luxuriant meads. +No trace of human creature met their eye, +Save one poor hut upon the desert shore, +Where dwelt a lonely man, and kept the ferry. +A tempest raged--the lake rose mountains high +And barr'd their further progress. Thereupon +They view'd the country--found it rich in wood, +Discover'd goodly springs, and felt as they +Were in their own dear native land once more. +Then they resolved to settle on the spot; +Erected there the ancient town of Schwytz; +And many a day of toil had they to clear +The tangled brake and forest's spreading roots. +Meanwhile their numbers grew, the soil became +Unequal to sustain them, and they cross'd +To the black mountain, far as Weissland, where, +Conceal'd behind eternal walls of ice, +Another people speak another tongue. +They built the village of Stanz, beside the Kernwald; +The village Altdorf, in the vale of Reuss; +Yet, ever mindful of their parent stem, +The men of Schwytz, from all the stranger race +That since that time have settled in the land, +Each other recognize. Their hearts still know, +And beat fraternally to kindred blood. + + _[Extends his hand right and left_.] + +MAUER. + +Ay, we are all one heart, one blood, one race! + +ALL _(joining hands)_. + +We are one people, and will act as one. + +STAUFF. + +The nations round us bear a foreign yoke; +For they have to the conqueror succumbed. +Nay, e'en within our frontiers may be found +Some, that owe villein service to a lord, +A race of bonded serfs from sire to son. +But we, the genuine race of ancient Swiss, +Have kept our freedom from the first till now. +Never to princes have we bow'd the knee; +Freely we sought protection of the Empire. + +RÖSSEL. + +Freely we sought it--freely it was given. +'Tis so set down in Emperor Frederick's charter. + +STAUFF. + +For the most free have still some feudal lord. +There must be still a chief, a judge supreme, +To whom appeal may lie, in case of strife. +And therefore was it that our sires allow'd, +For what they had recover'd from the waste, +This honor to the Emperor, the lord +Of all the German and Italian soil; +And, like the other free men of his realm, +Engaged to aid him with their swords in war; +The free man's duty this alone should be, +To guard the Empire that keeps guard for him. + +MELCH. + +He's but a slave that would acknowledge more. + +STAUFF. + +They followed, when the Heribann[53] went forth, +The imperial standard, and they fought its battles! +To Italy they march'd in arms, to place +The Cæsars' crown upon the Emperor's head. +But still at home they ruled themselves in peace +By their own laws and ancient usages. +The Emperor's only right was to adjudge +The penalty of death; he therefore named +Some mighty noble as his delegate, +That had no stake or interest in the land, +Who was call'd in, when doom was to be pass'd, +And, in the face of day, pronounced decree, +Clear and distinctly, fearing no man's hate. +What traces here, that we are bondsmen? Speak, +If there be any can gainsay my words! + +HOFE. + +No! You have spoken but the simple truth; +We never stoop'd beneath a tyrant's yoke. + +STAUFF. + +Even to the Emperor we did not submit, +When he gave judgment 'gainst us for the church; +For when the Abbey of Einsiedlen claimed +The Alp our fathers and ourselves had grazed, +And showed an ancient charter which bestowed +The land on them as being ownerless-- +For our existence there had been concealed-- +What was our answer? This: "The grant is void. +No Emperor can bestow what is our own +And if the Empire shall deny our rights, +We can, within our mountains, right ourselves!" +Thus spake our fathers! And shall we endure +The shame and infamy of this new yoke, +And from the vassal brook what never king +Dared, in his plenitude of power, attempt? +This soil we have created for ourselves, +By the hard labor of our hands; we've changed +The giant forest, that was erst the haunt +Of savage bears, into a home for man; +Extirpated the dragon's brood, that wont +To rise, distent with venom, from the swamps; +Rent the thick misty canopy that hung +Its blighting vapors on the dreary waste; +Blasted the solid rock; across the chasm +Thrown the firm bridge for the wayfaring man. +By the possession of a thousand years +The soil is ours. And shall an alien lord, +Himself a vassal, dare to venture here, +Insult us by our own hearth fires--attempt +To forge the chains of bondage for our hands, +And do us shame on our own proper soil? +Is there no help against such wrong as this? + + _[Great sensation among the people_.] + +Yes! there's a limit to the despot's power! +When the oppress'd for justice looks in vain, +When his sore burden may no more be borne, +With fearless heart he makes appeal to Heaven, +And thence brings down his everlasting rights, +Which there abide, inalienably his, +And indestructible as are the stars. +Nature's primeval state returns again, +Where man stands hostile to his fellow man; +And if all other means shall fail his need, +One last resource remains--his own good sword. +Our dearest treasures call to us for aid +Against the oppressor's violence; we stand +For country, home, for wives, for children here! + +ALL _(clashing their swords)_. + +Here stand we for our homes, our wives, and +children. + +RÖSSELMANN _(stepping into the circle)_. + +Bethink ye well, before ye draw the sword. +Some peaceful compromise may yet be made; +Speak but one word, and at your feet you'll see +The men who now oppress you. Take the terms +That have been often tendered you; renounce +The Empire, and to Austria swear allegiance! + +MAUER. + +What says the priest? To Austria allegiance? + +BUHEL. + +Hearken not to him! + +WINKELRIED. + + 'Tis a traitor's counsel, +His country's foe! + +REDING. + + Peace, peace, confederates! + +SEWA. + +Homage to Austria, after wrongs like these! + +FLUE. + +Shall Austria extort from us by force +What we denied to kindness and entreaty? + +MEYER. + +Then should we all be slaves, deservedly. + +MAUER. + +Yes! Let him forfeit all a Switzer's rights, +Who talks of yielding thus to Austria's yoke! +I stand on this, Landamman. Let this be +The foremost of our laws! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Even so! Whoe'er +Shall talk of bearing Austria's yoke, let him +Of all his rights and honors be despoiled, +No man thenceforth receive him at his hearth! + +ALL _(raising their right hands)_. + +Agreed! Be this the law! + +REDING _(after a pause)_. + + The law it is. + +RÖSSEL. + +Now you are free--this law hath made you free. +Never shall Austria obtain by force +What she has fail'd to gain by friendly suit. + +WEIL. + +On with the order of the day! Proceed! + +REDING. + +Confederates! Have all gentler means been tried? +Perchance the Emp'ror knows not of our wrongs; +It may not be his will we suffer thus +Were it not well to make one last attempt, +And lay our grievances before the throne, +Ere we unsheath the sword? Force is at best +A fearful thing e'en in a righteous cause; +God only helps, when man can help no more. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ KONRAD HUNN). + +Here you can give us information. Speak! + +HUNN. + +I was at Rheinfeld, at the Emperor's Court, +Deputed by the Cantons to complain +Of the oppressions of these governors, +And of our liberties the charter claim +Which each new king till now has ratified. +I found the envoys there of many a town, +From Suabia and the valley of the Rhine, +Who all received their parchments as they wish'd, +And straight went home again with merry heart. +But me, your envoy, they to the council sent, +Where I with empty cheer was soon dismiss'd. +"The Emperor at present was engaged; +Some other time he would attend to us!" +I turn'd away, and passing through the hall, +With heavy heart, in a recess I saw +The Grand Duke John[54] in tears, and by his side +The noble lords of Wart and Tegerfeld, +Who beckon'd me, and said, "Redress yourselves. +Expect not justice from the Emperor. +Does he not plunder his own brother's child, +And keep from him his just inheritance?" +The Duke claims his maternal property, +Urging he's now of age, and 'tis full time +That he should rule his people and estates +What is the answer made to him? The king +Places a chaplet on his head; "Behold +The fitting ornament," he cries, "of youth!" + +MAUER. + +You hear. Expect not from the Emperor +Or right or justice! Then redress yourselves! + +REDING. + +No other course is left us. Now, advise +What plan most likely to insure success. + +FÜRST. + +To shake a thraldom off that we abhor, +To keep our ancient rights inviolate, +As we received them from our fathers--this, +Not lawless innovation, is our aim. +Let Cæsar still retain what is his due; +And he that is a vassal, let him pay +The service he is sworn to faithfully. + +MEYER. + +I hold my land of Austria in fief. + +FÜRST. + +Continue, then, to pay your feudal dues. + +WEIT. + +I'm tenant of the lords of Rappersweil. + +FÜRST. + +Continue, then, to pay them rent and tithe. + +RÖSSEL. + +Of Zurich's Abbess humble vassal I. + +FÜRST. + +Give to the cloister what the cloister claims. + +STAUFF. + +The Empire only is my feudal lord. + +FÜRST. + +What needs must be, we'll do, but nothing more. +We'll drive these tyrants and their minions hence, +And raze their towering strongholds to the ground, +Yet shed, if possible, no drop of blood. +Let the Emperor see that we were driven to cast +The sacred duties of respect away; +And when he finds we keep within our bounds, +His wrath, belike, may yield to policy; +For truly is that nation to be fear'd +That, arms in hand, is temperate in its wrath. + +REDING. + +But prithee tell us how may this be done +The enemy is arm'd as well as we, +And, rest assured, he will not yield in peace. + +STAUFF. + +He will, whene'er he sees us up in arms; +We shall surprise him, ere he is prepared. + +MEYER. + +Easily said, but not so easily done. +Two strongholds dominate the country--they +Protect the foe, and should the king invade us, +Our task would then be dangerous indeed. +Rossberg and Sarnen both must be secured, +Before a sword is drawn in either Canton. + +STAUFF. + +Should we delay, the foe would soon be warned. +We are too numerous for secrecy. + +MEYER. + +There is no traitor in the Forest States. + +RÖSSEL. + +But even zeal may heedlessly betray. + +FÜRST. + +Delay it no longer, and the keep at Altdorf +Will be complete--the governor secure. + +MEYER. + +You think but of yourselves. + +SACRISTAN. + + You're unjust! + +MEYER. + +Unjust! said you? Dares Uri taunt us so? + +REDING. + +Peace, on your oath! + +SACRISTAN. + + If Schwytz be leagued with Uri, +Why, then, indeed, we must perforce be dumb. + +REDING. + +And let me tell you, in the Diet's name, +Your hasty spirit much disturbs the peace. +Stand we not all for the same common cause? + +WINK. + +What, if till Christmas we delay? 'Tis then +The custom for the serfs to throng the castle, +Bringing the governor their annual gifts. +Thus may some ten or twelve selected men +Assemble unobserved, within its walls, +Bearing about their persons pikes of steel +Which may be quickly mounted upon staves; +For arms are not admitted to the fort. +The rest can fill the neighb'ring wood, prepared +To sally forth upon a trumpet's blast, +Soon as their comrades have secured the gate; +And thus the castle will with ease be ours. + +MELCH. + +The Rossberg I will undertake to scale. +I have a sweetheart in the garrison, +Whom with some tender words I could persuade +To lower me at night a hempen ladder. +Once up, my friends will not be long behind. + +REDING. + +Are all resolved in favor of delay? + +_[The majority raise their hands_.] + +STAUFFACHER _(counting them)._ + +Twenty to twelve is the majority. + +FÜRST. + +If on the appointed day the castles fall, +From mountain on to mountain we shall speed +The fiery signal: in the capital +Of every Canton quickly rouse the Landsturm.[55] +Then, when these tyrants see our martial front, +Believe me, they will never make so bold +As risk the conflict, but will gladly take +Safe conduct forth beyond our boundaries. + +STAUFF. + +Not so with Gessler. He will make a stand. +Surrounded with his dread array of horse, +Blood will be shed before he quits the field, +And even expell'd he'd still be terrible. +'Tis hard, nay, dangerous, to spare his life. + +BAUM. + +Place me where'er a life is to be lost; +I owe my life to Tell, and cheerfully +Will pledge it for my country. I have clear'd. +My honor, and my heart is now at rest. + +REDING. + +Counsel will come with circumstance. Be patient! +Something must still be to the moment left. +Yet, while by night we hold our Diet here, +The morning, see, has on the mountain tops +Kindled her glowing beacon. Let us part, +Ere the broad sun surprise us. + +FÜRST. + + Do not fear. +The night wanes slowly from these vales of ours. + +_[All have involuntarily taken off their caps, and +contemplate the breaking of day, absorbed in silence.]_ + +RÖSSEL. + +By this fair light which greeteth us, before +Those other nations, that, beneath us far, +In noisome cities pent, draw painful breath, +Swear we the oath of our confederacy! +A band of brothers true we swear to be, +Never to part in danger or in death! + +_[They repeat his words with three fingers raised.]_ + +We swear we will be free, as were our sires, +And sooner die than live in slavery! + +_[All repeat as before_.] + +We swear, to put our trust in God Most High, +And not to quail before the might of man! + +_[All repeat as before, and embrace one another_.] + +STAUFF. + +Now every man pursue his several way +Back to his friends, his kindred, and his home. +Let the herd winter up his flock, and gain +In secret friends for this great league of ours! +What for a time must be endured, endure, +And let the reckoning of the tyrants grow, +Till the great day arrive when they shall pay +The general and particular debt at once. +Let every man control his own just rage, +And nurse his vengeance for the public wrongs: +For he whom selfish interests now engage +Defrauds the general weal of what to it belongs. + +_[As they are going off in profound silence, in three +different directions, the orchestra plays a solemn air. The +empty scene remains open for some time, showing the rays of +the sun rising over the Glaciers.]_ + +[ILLUSTRATION: THE OATH ON THE RÜTLI As performed at the +Royal Theatre, Dresden 1906.] + + + * * * * * + + + +ACT III + + +SCENE I + + +_Court before_ TELL'S _house_. TELL _with an axe_. HEDWIG +_engaged in her domestic duties_. WALTER _and_ WILLIAM _in +the background, playing with a little cross-bow._ + +(WALTER Sings). + +With his cross-bow, and his quiver, + The huntsman speeds his way, +Over mountain, dale, and river, + At the dawning of the day. +As the eagle, on wild pinion, + Is the king in realms of air, +So the hunter claims dominion + Over crag and forest lair. +Far as ever bow can carry, + Thro' the trackless airy space, +All he sees he makes his quarry, + Soaring bird and beast of chase. + +WILLIAM _(runs forward)._ + +My string has snapt! Oh, father, mend it, do! + +TELL. + +Not I; a true-born archer helps himself. + +_[Boys retire_.] + +HEDWIG. + +The boys begin to use the bow betimes. + +TELL. + +'Tis early practice only makes the master. + +HEDWIG. + +Ah! Would to heaven they never learnt the art! + +TELL. + +But they shall learn it, wife, in all its points. +Whoe'er would carve an independent way +Through life, must learn to ward or plant a blow. + +HEDWIG. + +Alas, alas! and they will never rest +Contentedly at home. + +TELL. + + No more can I! +I was not framed by nature for a shepherd. +My restless spirit ever yearns for change; +I only feel the flush and joy of life +If I can start fresh quarry every day. + +HEDWIG. + +Heedless the while of all your wife's alarms, +As she sits watching through long hours at home. +For my soul sinks with terror at the tales +The servants tell about the risks you run; +Whene'er we part, my trembling heart forebodes +That you will ne'er come back to me again. +I see you on the frozen mountain steeps, +Missing, perchance, your leap from crag to crag. +I see the chamois, with a wild rebound, +Drag you down with him o'er the precipice. +I see the avalanche close o'er your head, +The treacherous ice give way, and you sink down +Entombed alive within its hideous gulf. +Ah! in a hundred varying forms does death +Pursue the Alpine huntsman on his course. +That way of life can surely ne'er be blessed, +Where life and limb are perill'd every hour. + +TELL. + +The man that bears a quick and steady eye, +And trusts in God, and his own lusty thews, +Passes, with scarce a scar, through every danger. +The mountain cannot awe the mountain child. + +_[Having finished his work he lays aside his tools.]_ + +And now, methinks, the door will hold awhile-- +Axe in the house oft saves the carpenter. + + _[Takes his cap.]_ + +HEDWIG. + +Whither away? + +TELL. + + To Altdorf, to your father. + +HEDWIG. + +You have some dangerous enterprise in view? +Confess! + +TELL. + + Why think you so? + +HEDWIG. + + Some scheme's on foot +Against the governors. There was a Diet +Held on the Rootli--that I know--and you +Are one of the confederacy, I'm sure. + +TELL. + +I was not there. Yet will I not hold back, +Whene'er my country calls me to her aid. + +HEDWIG. + +Wherever danger is, will you be placed. +On you, as ever, will the burden fall. + +[ILLUSTRATION] + +TELL. + +Each man shall have the post that fits his powers. + +HEDWIG. + +You took--ay, 'mid the thickest of the storm-- +The man of Unterwald across the lake. +'Tis marvel you escaped. Had you no thought +Of wife and children, then? + +TELL. + + Dear wife, I had; +And therefore saved the father for his children. + +HEDWIG. + +To brave the lake in all its wrath! 'Twas not +To put your trust in God! 'Twas tempting Him. + +TELL. + +Little will he that's over cautious do. + +HEDWIG. + +Yes, you've a kind and helping hand for all +But be in straits, and who will lend you aid? + +TELL. + +God grant I ne'er may stand in need of it! + + _[Takes up his cross-bow and arrows_.] + +HEDWIG. + +Why take your cross-bow with you? leave it here. + +TELL. + +I want my right hand, when I want my bow. + + _[The boys return_.] + +WALTER. + +Where, father, are you going? + +TELL. + + To grand-dad, boy-- +To Altdorf. Will you go? + +WALTER. Ay, that I will! + +HEDWIG. + +The Viceroy's there just now. Go not to Altdorf! + +TELL. + +He leaves today. + +HEDWIG. + + Then let him first be gone, +Cross not his path.--You know he bears us grudge. + +TELL. + +His ill-will cannot greatly injure me. +I do what's right, and care for no man's hate. + +HEDWIG. + +'Tis those who do what's right, whom most he hates. + +TELL. + +Because he cannot reach them. Me, I ween, +His knightship will be glad to leave in peace. + +HEDWIG. + +Ay!--Are you sure of that? + +TELL. + + Not long ago, +As I was hunting through the wild ravines +Of Shechenthal, untrod by mortal foot-- +There, as I took my solitary way +Along a shelving ledge of rocks, where 'twas +Impossible to step on either side; +For high above rose, like a giant wall, +The precipice's side, and far below +The Shechen thunder'd o'er its rifted bed;-- + +[_The boys press toward him, looking upon him_ _with excited +curiosity.]_ + +There, face to face, I met the Viceroy. He +Alone with me--and I myself alone-- +Mere man to man, and near us the abyss, +And when his lordship had perused my face, +And knew the man he had severely fined +On some most trivial ground, not long before, +And saw me, with my sturdy bow in hand, +Come striding toward him, his cheek grew pale, +His knees refused their office, and I thought +He would have sunk against the mountain side. +Then, touch'd with pity for him, I advanced, +Respectfully, and said "'Tis I, my lord." +But ne'er a sound could he compel his lips +To frame in answer. Only with his hand +He beckoned me in silence to proceed. +So I pass'd on, and sent his train to seek him. + +HEDWIG. + +He trembled, then, before you? Woe the while +You saw his weakness; that he'll ne'er forgive. + +TELL. + +I shun him, therefore, and he'll not seek me. + +HEDWIG. + +But stay away today. Go hunt instead! + +TELL. + +What do you fear? + +HEDWIG. + + I am uneasy. Stay! + +TELL. + +Why thus distress yourself without a cause? + +HEDWIG. + +Because there is no cause. Tell, Tell! stay here! + +TELL. + +Dear wife, I gave my promise I would go. + +HEDWIG. + +Must you--then go. But leave the boys with me. + +WALTER. + +No, mother dear, I go with father, I. + +HEDWIG. + +How, Walter! will you leave your mother then? + +WALTER. + +I'll bring you pretty things from grandpa. + + _[Exit with his father.]_ + +WILLIAM. + +Mother, I'll stay with you! + +HEDWIG _(embracing him_). + + Yes, yes! thou art +My own dear child. Thou'rt all that's left to me. + +_[She goes to the gate of the court and looks anxiously +after_ TELL _and her son for a considerable time.]_ + + +SCENE II + + +_A retired part of the Forest.-Brooks dashing in spray over +the rocks._ + +_Enter_ BERTHA _in a hunting dress. Immediately afterward_ +RUDENZ + +BERTHA. + +He follows me. Now, then, to speak my mind! + +RUDENZ _(entering hastily)._ + +At length, dear lady, we have met alone +In this wild dell, with rocks on every side, +No jealous eye can watch our interview. +Now let my heart throw off this weary silence. + +BERTHA. + +But are you sure they will not follow us? + +RUDENZ. + +See, yonder goes the chase! Now, then, or never! +I must avail me of this precious chance-- +Must hear my doom decided by thy lips, +Though it should part me from thy side forever. +Oh, do not arm that gentle face of thine +With looks so stern and harsh! Who--who am I, +That dare aspire so high, as unto thee? +Fame hath not stamp'd me yet; nor may I take +My place amid the courtly throng of knights, +That, crown'd with glory's lustre, woo thy smiles. +Nothing have I to offer but a heart +That overflows with truth and love for thee. + +BERTHA _(sternly and with severity)_. + +And dare you speak to me of love--of truth! +You, that are faithless to your nearest ties! +You, that are Austria's slave-bartered and sold +To her--an alien, and your country's tyrant! + +RUDENZ. + +How! This reproach from thee! Whom do I seek, +On Austria's side, my own beloved, but thee? + +BERTHA. + +Think you to find me in the traitor's ranks? +Now, as I live, I'd rather give my hand +To Gessler's self, all despot though he be, +Than to the Switzer who forgets his birth, +And stoops to be a tyrant's servile tool. + +RUDENZ. + +Oh heaven, what words are these? + +BERTHA. + + Say! what can lie +Nearer the good man's heart than friends and kindred! +What dearer duty to a noble soul +Than to protect weak suffering innocence, +And vindicate the rights of the oppress'd? +My very soul bleeds for your countrymen. +I suffer with them, for I needs must love them; +They are so gentle, yet so full of power; +They draw my whole heart to them. Every day +I look upon them with increased esteem. +But you, whom nature and your knightly vow +Have given them as their natural protector, +Yet who desert them and abet their foes +In forging shackles for your native land, +You--you incense and wound me to the core. +It tries me to the utmost not to hate you. + +RUDENZ. + +Is not my country's welfare all my wish? +What seek I for her but to purchase peace +'Neath Austria's potent sceptre? + +BERTHA. + + Bondage, rather! +You would drive freedom from the last stronghold +That yet remains for her upon the earth. +The people know their own true int'rests better: +Their simple natures are not warp'd by show. +But round your head a tangling net is wound. + +RUDENZ. + +Bertha, you hate me--you despise me! + +BERTHA. + + Nay! +And if I did, 'twere better for my peace. +But to see him despised and despicable-- +The man whom one might love-- + +RUDENZ. + + Oh, Bertha. You +Show me the pinnacle of heavenly bliss, +Then, in a moment, hurl me to despair! + +BERTHA. + +No, no! the noble is not all extinct +Within you. It but slumbers--I will rouse it. +It must have cost you many a fiery struggle +To crush the virtues of your race within you. +But, heaven be praised, 'tis mightier than yourself, +And you are noble in your own despite! + +RUDENZ. + +You trust me, then? Oh, Bertha, with thy love +What might I not become! + +BERTHA. + + Be only that +For which your own high nature destin'd you. +Fill the position you were born to fill;-- +Stand by your people and your native land, +And battle for your sacred rights! + +RUDENZ. + + Alas! +How can I win you--how can you be mine, +If I take arms against the Emperor? +Will not your potent kinsmen interpose +To dictate the disposal of your hand? + +BERTHA. + +All my estates lie in the Forest Cantons; +And I am free, when Switzerland is free. + +RUDENZ. + +Oh! what a prospect, Bertha, hast thou shown me! + +BERTHA. + +Hope not to win my hand by Austria's grace; +Fain would they lay their grasp on my estates +To swell the vast domains which now they hold. +The selfsame lust of conquest, that would rob +You of your liberty, endangers mine. +Ob, friend, I'm mark'd for sacrifice;--to be +The guerdon of some parasite, perchance! +They'll drag me hence to the Imperial court, +That hateful haunt of falsehood and intrigue, +And marriage bonds I loathe await me there. +Love, love alone--your love can rescue me. + +RUDENZ. + +And thou couldst be content, love, to live here? +In my own native land to be my own? +Oh, Bertha, all the yearnings of my soul +For this great world and its tumultuous strife-- +What were they, but a yearning after thee? +In glory's path I sought for thee alone, +And all my thirst of fame was only love. +But if in this calm vale thou canst abide +With me, and bid earth's pomps and pride adieu, +Then is the goal of my ambition won; +And the rough tide of the tempestuous world +May dash and rave around these firm-set hills! +No wandering wishes more have I to send +Forth to the busy scene that stirs beyond. +Then may these rocks, that girdle us, extend +Their giant walls impenetrably round, +And this sequestered happy vale alone +Look up to heaven, and be my paradise! + +BERTHA. + +Now art thou all my fancy dream'd of thee! +My trust has not been given to thee in vain. + +RUDENZ. + +Away, ye idle phantoms of my folly; +In mine own home I'll find my happiness. +Here, where the gladsome boy to manhood grew, +Where ev'ry brook, and tree, and mountain peak, +Teems with remembrances of happy hours, +In mine own native land thou wilt be mine. +Ah, I have ever loved it well, I feel +How poor without it were all earthly joys. + +BERTHA. + +Where should we look for happiness on earth, +If not in this dear land of innocence-- +Here, where old truth hath its familiar home? +Where fraud and guile are strangers, envy ne'er +Shall dim the sparkling fountain of our bliss, +And ever bright the hours shall o'er us glide. +There do I see thee, in true manly worth, +The foremost of the free and of thy peers, +Revered with homage pure and unconstrain'd, +Wielding a power that kings might envy thee. + +RUDENZ. + +And thee I see, thy sex's crowning gem, +With thy sweet woman's grace and wakeful love, +Building a heaven for me within my home, +And, as the spring-time scatters forth her flowers, +Adorning with thy charms my path of life, +And spreading joy and sunshine all around. + +BERTHA. + +And this it was, dear friend, that caused my grief, +To see thee blast this life's supremest bliss +With thine own hand. Ah! what had been my fate, +Had I been forced to follow some proud lord, +Some ruthless despot, to his gloomy keep! +Here are no keeps, here are no bastion'd walls +To part me from a people I can bless. + +RUDENZ. + +Yet, how to free myself; to loose the coils +Which I have madly twined around my head? + +BERTHA. + +Tear them asunder with a man's resolve. +Whate'er ensue, firm by thy people stand! +It is thy post by birth. + + [_Hunting horns are heard in the distance_.] + + But hark! The chase! +Farewell--'tis needful we should part--away! +Fight for thy land; thou fightest for thy love. +One foe fills all our souls with dread; the blow +That makes one free, emancipates us all. + + [_Exeunt severally_.] + +SCENE III + + +_A meadow near Altdorf. Trees in the foreground. At the back +of the stage a cap upon a pole. The prospect is bounded by +the Bannberg, which is surmounted by a snow-capped +mountain._ + +FRIESSHARDT _and_ LEUTHOLD _on guard_ + + +FRIESS. + +We keep our watch in vain. Zounds! not a soul +Will pass and do obeisance to the cap. +But yesterday the place swarm'd like a fair; +Now the old green looks like a desert, quite, +Since yonder scarecrow hung upon the pole. + +LEUTH. + +Only the vilest rabble show themselves, +And wave their tattered caps in mockery at us. +All honest citizens would sooner make +A weary circuit over half the town, +Than bend their backs before our master's cap. + +FRIESS. + +They were obliged to pass this way at noon, +As they were coming from the Council House. +I counted then upon a famous catch, +For no one thought of bowing to the cap, +But Rösselmann, the priest, was even with me: +Coming just then from some sick man, he takes +His stand before the pole--lifts up the Host-- +The Sacrist, too, must tinkle with his bell-- +When down they dropp'd on knee--myself and all-- +In reverence to the Host, but not the cap. + +LEUTH. + +Hark ye, companion, I've a shrewd suspicion, +Our post's no better than the pillory. +It is a burning shame, a trooper should +Stand sentinel before an empty cap, +And every honest fellow must despise us. +To do obeisance to a cap, too! Faith, +I never heard an order so absurd! + +FRIESS. + +Why not, an't please you, to an empty cap? +You've duck'd, I'm sure, to many an empty sconce. + +[HILDEGARD, MECHTHILD, _and_ ELSBETH _enter with their +children, and station themselves around the pole_.] + +LEUTH. + +And you are a time-serving sneak that takes +Delight in bringing honest folks to harm. +For my part, he that likes may pass the cap:-- +I'll shut my eyes and take no note of him. + +MECH. + +There hangs the Viceroy! Your obeisance, children! + +ELSBETH. + +I would to God he'd go, and leave his cap! +The country would be none the worse for it. + +FRIESSHARDT (_driving them away_). + +Out of the way! Confounded pack of gossips! +Who sent for you? Go, send your husbands here, +If they have courage to defy the order. + +[TELL _enters with his cross-bow, leading his son_ WALTER +_by the hand. They pass the hat without noticing it, and +advance to the front of the stage_.] + +WALTER (_pointing to the Bannberg_). + +Father, is't true, that on the mountain there +The trees, if wounded with a hatchet, bleed? + +TELL. + +Who says so, boy? + +WALTER. + +The master herdsman, father! +He tells us there's a charm upon the trees, +And if a man shall injure them, the hand +That struck the blow will grow from out the grave. + +TELL. + +There is a charm about them--that's the truth. +Dost see those glaciers yonder--those white horns-- +That seem to melt away into the sky? + +WALTER. + +They are the peaks that thunder so at night, +And send the avalanches down upon us. + +TELL. + +They are; and Altdorf long ago had been +Submerged beneath these avalanches' weight, +Did not the forest there above the town +Stand like a bulwark to arrest their fall. + +WALTER (_after musing a little_). + +And are there countries with no mountains, father? + +TELL. + +Yes, if we travel downward from our heights, +And keep descending where the rivers go, +We reach, a wide and level country, where +Our mountain torrents brawl and foam no more, +And fair large rivers glide serenely on. +All quarters of the heaven may there be scann'd +Without impediment. The corn grows there +In broad and lovely fields, and all the land +Is like a garden fair to look upon. + +WALTER. + +But, father, tell me, wherefore haste we not +Away to this delightful land, instead +Of toiling here and struggling as we do? + +TELL. + +The land is fair and bountiful as Heaven; +But they who till it never may enjoy +The fruits of what they sow. + +WALTER. + + Live they not free, +As you do, on the land their fathers left them? + +TELL. + +The fields are all the bishop's or the king's. + +WALTER. + +But they may freely hunt among the woods? + +TELL. + +The game is all the monarch's--bird and beast. + +WALTER. + +But they, at least, may surely fish the streams? + +TELL. + +Stream, lake, and sea, all to the king belong. + +WALTER. + +Who is this king, of whom they're so afraid? + +TELL. + +He is the man who fosters and protects them. + +WALTER. + +Have they not courage to protect themselves? + +TELL. + +The neighbor there dare not his neighbor trust. + +WALTER. + +I should want breathing room in such a land. +I'd rather dwell beneath the avalanches. + +TELL. + +'Tis better, child, to have these glacier peaks +Behind one's back than evil-minded men! + + [_They are about to pass on_.] + +WALTER. + +See, father, see the cap on yonder pole! + +TELL. + +What is the cap to us? Come, let's begone. + +[_As he is going_, FRIESSHARDT, _presenting his pike, stops +him_.] + +FRIESS. + +Stand, I command you, in the Emperor's name! + +TELL (_seizing the pike_). + +What would ye? Wherefore do ye stop me thus? + +FRIESS. + +You've broke the mandate, and with us must go. + +LEUTH. + +You have not done obeisance to the cap. + +TELL. + +Friend, let me go. + +FRIESS. + + Away, away to prison! + +WALTER. + +Father to prison? Help! + + [_Calling to the side scene_.] + + This way, you men! +Good people, help! They're dragging him to prison! + +[RÖSSELMANN _the Priest, and the_ SACRISTAN, _with three +other men, enter_.] + +SACRIST. + +What's here amiss? + +RÖSSELMANN. + + Why do you seize this man? + +FRIESS. + +He is an enemy of the King--a traitor. + +TELL (_seizing him with violence_). + +A traitor, I? + +RÖSSELMANN. + + Friend, thou art wrong. 'Tis Tell, +An honest man, and worthy citizen. + +WALTER (_descries_ FÜRST _and runs up to him_). + +Grandfather, help, they want to seize my father! + +FRIESS. Away to prison! + +FÜRST (_running in_). + + Stay, I offer bail. +For God's sake, Tell, what is the matter here? + + [MELCHTHAL _and_ STAUFFACHER _enter_.] + +LEUTH. + +He has contemn'd the Viceroy's sovereign power, +Refusing flatly to acknowledge it. + +STAUFF. + +Has Tell done this? + +MELCHTHAL. + + Villain, you know 'tis false! + +LEUTH. + +He has not made obeisance to the cap. + +FÜRST. + +And shall for this to prison? Come, my friend, +Take my security, and let him go. + +FRIESS. + +Keep your security for yourself--you'll need it. +We only do our duty. Hence with him. + +MELCHTHAL (_to the country people_). + +This is too bad--shall we stand by and see +Him dragged away before our very eyes? + +SACRIST. + +We are the strongest. Friends, endure it not, +Our countrymen will back us to a man. + +FRIESS. + +Who dares the governor's commands? + +OTHER THREE PEASANTS (_running in_). + +We'll help you. What's the matter? Down with them! + + [HILDEGARD, MECHTHILD _and_ ELSBETH _return_.] + +TELL. + +Go, go, good people, I can help myself. +Think you, had I a mind to use my strength, +These pikes of theirs should daunt me? + +MELCHTHAL (_to_ FRIESSHARDT). + +Only try-- +Try from our midst to force him, if you dare. + +FÜRST _and_ STAUFFACHER. + +Peace, peace, friends! + +FRIESSHARDT (_loudly_). + + Riot! Insurrection, ho! + + [_Hunting-horns without_.] + +WOMEN. + +The Governor! + +FRIESSHARDT _(raising his voice_). + + Rebellion! Mutiny! + +STAUFF. + +Roar till you burst, knave! + +RÖSSELMANN _and_ MELCHTHAL. + + Will you hold your tongue? + +FRIESSHARDT (_calling still louder_). + +Help, help, I say, the servants of the law! + +FÜRST. + +The Viceroy here! Then we shall smart for this! + +[_Enter_ GESSLER _on horseback, with a falcon on his wrist_: +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, BERTHA, _and_ RUDENZ, _and a numerous +train of armed attendants, who form a circle of lances round +the whole stage_.] + +HARRAS. + +Room for the Viceroy! + +GESSLER. + + Drive the clowns apart. +Why throng the people thus? Who calls for help? + + [_General silence_.] + +[Illustration: TELL AND GESSLER As performed at the Royal +Theatre, Dresden, 1906.] + +Who was it? I _will_ know. + + [FRIESSHARDT _steps forward_.] + + And who art thou? +And why hast thou this man in custody? + + [_Gives his falcon to an attendant_.] + +FRIESS. + +Dread sir, I am a soldier of your guard, +And station'd sentinel beside the cap; +This man I apprehended in the act +Of passing it without obeisance due; +So as you ordered, I arrested him, +Whereupon to rescue him the people tried. + +GESSLER (_after a pause_). + +And do you, Tell, so lightly hold your King, +And me, who act as his vice-regent here, +That you refuse obeisance to the cap, +I hung aloft to test your loyalty? +I read in this a disaffected spirit. + +TELL. + +Pardon me, good my lord! The action sprung +From inadvertence--not from disrespect. +Were I discreet, I were not William Tell. +Forgive me now--I'll not offend again. + +GESSLER (_after a pause_). + +I hear, Tell, you're a master with the bow-- +From every rival bear the palm away. + +WALTER. + +That's very truth, sir! At a hundred yards +He'll shoot an apple for you off the tree. + +GESSLER. + +Is that boy thine, Tell? + +TELL. + + Yes, my gracious lord. + +GESSLER. + +Hast any more of them? + +TELL. + + Two boys, my lord. + +GESSLER. + +And, of the two, which dost thou love the most? + +TELL. + +Sir, both the boys are dear to me alike. + +GESSLER. + +Then, Tell, since at a hundred yards thou canst +Bring down the apple from the tree, thou shalt +Approve thy skill before me. Take thy bow-- +Thou hast it there at hand--make ready, then, +To shoot an apple from the stripling's head! +But take this counsel--look well to thine aim, +See, that thou hit'st the apple at the first, +For, shouldst thou miss, thy head shall pay the forfeit. + + [_All give signs of horror_.] + +TELL. + +What monstrous thing, my lord, is this you ask? +What I from the head of mine own child!--No, no! +It cannot be, kind sir, you meant not that-- +God, in His grace, forbid! You could not ask +A father seriously to do that thing! + +GESSLER. + +Thou art to shoot an apple from his head! +I do desire--command it so. + +TELL. + + What, I! +Level my cross-bow at the darling head +Of mine own child? No--rather let me die! + +GESSLER. + +Or thou must shoot, or with thee dies the boy. + +TELL. + +Shall I become the murderer of my child! +You have no children, sir--you do not know +The tender throbbings of a father's heart. + +GESSLER. + +How now, Tell, on a sudden so discreet? +I had been told thou wert a visionary-- +A wanderer from the paths of common men. +Thou lov'st the marvelous. So have I now +Cull'd out for thee a task of special daring. +Another man might pause and hesitate;-- +Thou dashest at it, heart and soul, at once. + +BERTHA. + +Oh, do not jest, my lord, with these poor souls! +See, how they tremble, and how pale they look, +So little used are they to hear thee jest. + +GESSLER. + +Who tells thee that I jest? + + [_Grasping a branch above his head_.] + + Here is the apple. +Room there, I say! And let him take his distance-- +Just eighty paces--as the custom is-- +Not an inch more or less! It was his boast +That at a hundred he could hit his man. +Now, archer, to your task, and look you miss not! + +HARRAS. + +Heavens! this grows serious--down, boy, on your knees, +And beg the governor to spare your life. + +FÜRST (_aside to_ MELCHTHAL, _who can scarcely restrain his +indignation_). + +Command yourself--be calm, I beg of you! + +BERTHA (_to the governor_). + + +Let this suffice you, sir! It is inhuman +To trifle with a father's anguish thus. +Although this wretched man had forfeited +Both life and limb for such a slight offence, +Already has he suffer'd tenfold death. +Send him away uninjured to his home; +He'll know thee well in future; and this hour +He and his children's children will remember. + +GESSLER. + +Open a way there--quick! Why this delay? +Thy life is forfeited; I might dispatch thee, +And see, I graciously repose thy fate +Upon the skill of thine own practised hand. +No cause has he to say his doom is harsh +Who's made the master of his destiny. +Thou boastest thine unerring aim. 'Tis well! +Now is the fitting time to show thy skill; +The mark is worthy and the prize is great. +To hit the bull's eye in the target;--that +Can many another do as well as thou; +But he, methinks, is master of his craft, +Who can at all times on his skill rely, +Nor lets his heart disturb or eye or hand. + +FÜRST. + +My lord, we bow to your authority; +But oh, let justice yield to mercy here. +Take half my property, nay, take it all, +But spare a father this unnatural doom! + +WALTER. + +Grandfather, do not kneel to that bad man! +Say, where am I to stand? I do not fear; +My father strikes the bird upon the wing, +And will not miss now when 'twould harm his boy! + +STAUFF. + +Does the child's innocence not touch your heart? + +RÖSSEL. + +Bethink you, sir, there is a God in heaven, +To whom you must account for all your deeds. + +GESSLER (_pointing to the boy_). + +Bind him to yonder lime tree! + +WALTER. + + What! Bind me? +No, I will not be bound! I will be still, +Still as a lamb--nor even draw my breath! +But if you bind me, I cannot be still. +Then I shall writhe and struggle with my bonds. + +HARRAS. + +But let your eyes at least be bandaged, boy! + +WALTER. + +And why my eyes? No! Do you think I fear +An arrow from my father's hand? Not I! +I'll wait it firmly, nor so much as wink! +Quick, father, show them what thy bow can do. +He doubts thy skill--he thinks to ruin us. +Shoot then and hit, though but to spite the tyrant! + +[_He goes to the lime tree, and an apple is placed on his +head_.] + +MELCHTHAL (_to the country people_). + +What! Is this outrage to be perpetrated +Before our very eyes? Where is our oath? + +STAUFF. + +Resist we cannot! Weapons we have none, +And see the wood of lances round us! See! + +MELCH. + +Oh! would to heaven that we had struck at once! +God pardon those who counsell'd the delay! + +GESSLER (_to_ TELL). + +Now to your task! Men bear not arms for naught. +To carry deadly tools is dangerous, +And on the archer oft his shaft recoils. +This right these haughty peasant churls assume +Trenches upon their master's privileges: +None should be armed but those who bear command. +It pleases you to carry bow and bolt;-- +Well--be it so. I will prescribe the mark. + +TELL (_bends the bow, and fixes the arrow_). + +A lane there! Room! + +STAUFFACHER. + + What, Tell? You would--no, no! +You shake--your hand's unsteady--your knees tremble. + +TELL (_letting the bow sink down_). + +There's something swims before mine eyes! + +WOMEN. + + Great Heaven! + +TELL. Release me from this shot! Here is my heart! + + [_Tears open his breast_.] + +Summon your troopers--let them strike me down! + +GESSLER. + +'Tis not thy life I want--I want the shot. +Thy talent's universal! Nothing daunts thee! +The rudder thou canst handle like the bow! +No storms affright thee, when a life's at stake. +Now, savior, help thyself--thou savest all! + +[TELL _stands fearfully agitated by contending emotions, his +hands moving convulsively, and his eyes turning alternately +to the governor and Heaven. Suddenly he takes a second arrow +from his quiver, and sticks it in his belt. The governor +notes all he does_.] + +WALTER (_beneath the lime tree_). + +Shoot, father, shoot! fear not! + +TELL. + + It must be! + + [_Collects himself and levels the bow_.] + +RUDENZ (_who all the while has been standing in a state of +violent excitement, and has with difficulty restrained +himself, advances_). + +My lord, you will not urge this matter further; +You will not. It was surely but a test. +You've gained your object. Rigor push'd too far +Is sure to miss its aim, however good, +As snaps the bow that's all too straitly bent. + +GESSLER. + +Peace, till your counsel's ask'd for! + +RUDENZ. + + I will speak! +Ay, and I dare! I reverence my king; +But acts like these must make his name abhorr'd. +He sanctions not this cruelty. I dare +Avouch the fact. And you outstep your powers +In handling thus my harmless countrymen. + +GESSLER. + +Ha! thou grow'st, bold, methinks! + +RUDENZ. + + I have been dumb +To all the oppressions I was doomed to see. +I've closed mine eyes to shut them from my view, +Bade my rebellious, swelling heart be still, +And pent its struggles down within my breast. +But to be silent longer, were to be +A traitor to my king and country both. + +BERTHA (_casting herself between him and the governor_). + +Oh Heavens! you but exasperate his rage! + +RUDENZ. + +My people I forsook--renounced my kindred-- +Broke all the ties of nature, that I might +Attach myself to you. I madly thought +That I should best advance the general weal +By adding sinews to the Emperor's power. +The scales have fallen from mine eyes--I see +The fearful precipice on which I stand. +You've led my youthful judgment far astray-- +Deceived my honest heart. With best intent, +I had well-nigh achiev'd my country's ruin. + +GESSLER. + +Audacious boy, this language to thy lord? + +RUDENZ. + +The Emperor is my lord, not you! I'm free +As you by birth, and I can cope with you +In every virtue that beseems a knight. +And if you stood not here in that King's name, +Which I respect e'en where 'tis most abused, +I'd throw my gauntlet down, and you should give +An answer to my gage in knightly sort. +Ay, beckon to your troopers! Here I stand; +But not like these + + [_Pointing to the people_.] + + --unarmed. I have a sword, +And he that stirs one step-- + +STAUFFACHER (_exclaims_). + The apple's down! + +[_While the attention of the crowd has been directed to the +spot where_ BERTHA _had cast herself between_ RUDENZ _and_ +GESSLER, TELL _has shot_.] + +RÖSSEL. + +The boy's alive! + +MANY VOICES. + +The apple has been struck! + +[WALTER FÜRST _staggers and is about to fall_. BERTHA +_supports him_.] + +GESSLER (_astonished_). + +How? Has he shot? The madman! + +BERTHA. + + Worthy father! +Pray you, compose yourself. The boy's alive. + +WALTER (_runs in with the apple_). + +Here is the apple, father! Well I knew +You would not harm your boy. + +[TELL _stands with his body bent forward, as if still +following the arrow. His bow drops from his hand. When he +sees the boy advancing, he hastens to meet him with open +arms, and embracing him passionately sinks down with him +quite exhausted. All crowd round them deeply affected_.] + +BERTHA. + + Oh, ye kind Heavens! + +FÜRST (_to father and son_). + +My children, my dear children! + +STAUFFACHER. + +God be praised! + +LEUTH. + +Almighty powers! That was a shot indeed! +It will be talked of to the end of time. + +HARRAS. + +This feat of Tell, the archer, will be told +Long as these mountains stand upon their base. + + [_Hands the apple to_ GESSLER.] + +GESSLER. + +By Heaven! the apple's cleft right through the core. +It was a master shot, I must allow. + +RÖSSEL. + +The shot was good. But woe to him who drove +The man to tempt his God by such a feat! + +STAUFF. + +Cheer up, Tell, rise! You've nobly freed yourself, +And now may go in quiet to your home. + +RÖSSEL. + +Come, to the mother let us bear her son! + + [_They are about to lead him off_.] + +GESSLER. + +A word, Tell. + +TELL. Sir, your pleasure? + +GESSLER. + + Thou didst place +A second arrow in thy belt--nay, nay! +I saw it well. Thy purpose with it? Speak! + +TELL (_confused_). + +It is a custom with all archers, sir. + +GESSLER. + +No, Tell, I cannot let that answer pass. +There was some other motive, well I know. +Frankly and cheerfully confess the truth;-- +Whate'er it be, I promise thee thy life. +Wherefore the second arrow? + +TELL. + + Well, my lord, +Since you have promised not to take my life, +I will, without reserve, declare the truth. + +[_He draws the arrow from his belt, and fixes his eyes +sternly upon the governor_.] + +If that my hand had struck my darling child, +This second arrow I had aimed at you, +And, be assured, I should not then have miss'd. + +GESSLER. + +Well, Tell, I promised thou shouldst have thy life; +I gave my knightly word, and I will keep it. +Yet, as I know the malice of thy thoughts, +I'll have thee carried hence, and safely penn'd, +Where neither sun nor moon shall reach thine eyes. +Thus from thy arrows I shall be secure. +Seize on him, guards, and bind him! + + [_They bind him_.] + +STAUFFACHER. + + How, my lord-- +How can you treat in such a way a man +On whom God's hand has plainly been reveal'd? + +GESSLER. + +Well, let us see if it will save him twice! +Remove him to my ship; I'll follow straight; +At Küssnacht I will see him safely lodged. + +RÖSSEL. + +You dare not do't. Nor durst the Emperor's self +So violate our dearest chartered rights. + +GESSLER. + +Where are they? Has the Emp'ror confirm'd them? +He never has. And only by obedience +May you that favor hope to win from him. +You are all rebels 'gainst the Emp'ror's power-- +And bear a desperate and rebellious spirit. +I know you all--I see you through and through. +Him do I single from amongst you now, +But in his guilt you all participate. +If you are wise, be silent and obey! + +[_Exit, followed by_ BERTHA, RUDENZ, HARRAS, _and +attendants_. FRIESSHARDT _and_ LEUTHOLD _remain_.] + +FÜRST (_in violent anguish_). + +All's over now! He is resolved to bring +Destruction on myself and all my house. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ TELL). + +Oh, why did you provoke the tyrant's rage? + +TELL. + +Let him be calm who feels the pangs I felt. + +STAUFF. + +Alas! alas! Our every hope is gone. +With you we all are fettered and enchain'd. + +COUNTRY PEOPLE (_surrounding_ TELL). + +Our last remaining comfort goes with you! + +LEUTHOLD (_approaching him_). + +I'm sorry for you, Tell, but must obey. + +TELL. + +Farewell! + +WALTER TELL (_clinging to him in great agony_). + +Oh, father, father, father dear! + +TELL (_pointing to Heaven_). + +Thy father is on high--appeal to Him! + +STAUFF. + +Have you no message, Tell, to send your wife? + +TELL (_clasping the boy passionately to his breast_). + +The boy's uninjured; God will succor me! + +[_Tears himself suddenly away, and follows the soldiers of +the guard_.] + + + +ACT IV + + +SCENE I + + +_Eastern shore of the Lake of Lucerne; rugged and singularly +shaped rocks close the prospect to the west. The lake is +agitated, violent roaring and rushing of wind, with thunder +and lightning at intervals._ + +KUNZ OF GERSAU, FISHERMAN _and_ BOY + +KUNZ. + +I saw it with these eyes! Believe me, friend, +It happen'd all precisely as I've said. + +FISHER. + +How! Tell a prisoner, and to Küssnacht borne? +The best man in the land, the bravest arm, +Had we for liberty to strike a blow! + +KUNZ. + +The Viceroy takes him up the lake in person: +They were about to go on board, as I +Started from Flüelen; but the gathering storm, +That drove me here to land so suddenly, +May well have hindered them from setting out. + +FISHER. + +Our Tell in chains, and in the Viceroy's power! +O, trust me, Gessler will entomb him where +He never more shall see the light of day; +For, Tell once free, the tyrant well might dread +The just revenge of one so deeply wrong'd. + +KUNZ. + +The old Landamman, too--von Attinghaus-- +They say, is lying at the point of death. + +FISHER. + +Then the last anchor of our hopes gives way! +He was the only man that dared to raise +His voice in favor of the people's rights. + +KUNZ. + +The storm grows worse and worse. So, fare ye well! +I'll go and seek out quarters in the village. +There's not a chance of getting off today. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISHER. + +Tell dragg'd to prison, and the Baron dead! +Now, tyranny, exalt thy brazen front-- +Throw every shame aside! Truth's voice is dumb! +The eye that watch'd for us, in darkness closed, +The arm that should have struck thee down, in chains! + +BOY. + +'Tis hailing hard--come, let us to the hut! +This is no weather to be out in, father! + +FISHER. + +Rage on, ye winds! Ye lightnings, flash your fires! +Burst, ye swollen clouds! Ye cataracts of Heaven, +Descend, and drown the country! In the germ +Destroy the generations yet unborn! +Ye savage elements, be lords of all! +Return, ye bears: ye ancient wolves, return +To this wide howling waste! The land is yours. +Who would live here, when liberty is gone! + +BOY. + +Hark! How the wind whistles, and the whirlpool roars, +I never saw a storm so fierce as this! + +FISHER. + +To level at the head of his own child! +Never had father such command before. +And shall not nature, rising in wild wrath, +Revolt against the deed? I should not marvel, +Though to the lake these rocks should bow their heads, +Though yonder pinnacles, yon towers of ice, +That, since creation's dawn, have known no thaw, +Should, from their lofty summits, melt away +Though yonder mountains, yon primeval cliffs, +Should topple down, and a new deluge whelm +Beneath its waves all living men's abodes! + + [_Bells heard_.] + +BOY. + +Hark, they are ringing on the mountain, yonder! +They surely see some vessel in distress. +And toll the bell that we may pray for it. + + [_Ascends a rock_.] + +FISHER. + +Woe to the bark that now pursues its course, +Rock'd in the cradle of these storm-tost waves! +Nor helm nor steersman here can aught avail; +The storm is master. Man is like a ball, +Toss'd 'twixt the winds and billows. Far or near, +No haven offers him its friendly shelter! +Without one ledge to grasp, the sheer smooth rocks +Look down inhospitably on his despair, +And only tender him their flinty breasts. + +BOY (_calling from above_). + +Father, a ship: from Flüelen bearing down. + +FISHER. + +Heaven pity the poor wretches! When the storm +Is once entangled in this strait of ours, +It rages like some savage beast of prey, +Struggling against its cage's iron bars! +Howling, it seeks an outlet--all in vain; +For the rocks hedge it round on every side, +Walling the narrow gorge as high as Heaven. + + [_He ascends a cliff_.] + +BOY. + +It is the Governor of Uri's ship; +By its red poop I know it, and the flag. + +FISHER. + +Judgments of Heaven! Yes, it is he himself, +It is the Governor! Yonder he sails, +And with him bears the burden of his crimes. +The avenger's arm has not been slow to strike! +Now over him he knows a mightier lord. +These waves yield no obedience to his voice. +These rocks bow not their heads before his cap. +Boy, do not pray; stay not the Judge's arm! + +BOY. + +I pray not for the Governor, I pray +For Tell who's with him there on board the ship. + +FISHER. + +Alas, ye blind, unreasoning elements! +Must ye, in punishing one guilty head, +Destroy the vessel and the pilot too? + +BOY. + +See, see, they've clear'd the Buggisgrat;[56] but now +The blast, rebounding from the Devil's Minster,[56] +Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg.[56] +I cannot see them now. + +FISHERMAN. + + The Hakmesser[56] +Is there, that's founder'd many a gallant ship. +If they should fail to double that with skill, +Their bark will go to pieces on the rocks +That hide their jagged peaks below the lake. +The best of pilots, boy, they have on board. +If man could save them, Tell is just the man, +But he is manacled both hand and foot. + +[_Enter_ WILLIAM TELL, _with his cross-bow. He enters +precipitately, looks wildly round, and testifies the most +violent agitation. When he reaches the centre of the stage, +he throws himself upon his knees, and stretches out his +hands, first toward the earth, then toward Heaven_.] + +BOY (_observing him_). + +See, father! A man on's knees, who can it be? + +FISHER. + +He clutches at the earth with both his hands, +And looks as though he were beside himself. + +BOY (_advancing_). + +What do I see? Come father, come and look! + +FISHERMAN (_approaches_). + +Who is it? God in Heaven! What! William Tell! +How came you hither? Speak, Tell! + +BOY. + + Were you not +In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains? + +FISHER. + +Were they not carrying you to Küssnacht, Tell? + +TELL _(rising)._ + +I am released. + +FISHERMAN _and_ BOY. + + Released, oh miracle! + +BOY. + +Whence came you here + +TELL. + + From yonder vessel! + +FISHERMAN. + + What? + +BOY. + +Where is the Viceroy? + +TELL. + +Drifting on the waves. + +FISHER. + +Is't possible? But you! How are you here? +How 'scaped you from your fetters and the +storm? + +TELL. + +By God's most gracious providence. Attend. + +FISHERMAN _and_ BOY. + + Say on, say on! + +TELL. + + You know what passed at Altdorf. + +FISHER. + +I do--say on! + +TELL. + + How I was seized and bound, +And order'd by the governor to Küssnacht. + +FISHER. + +And how at Flüelen he embarked with you. +All this we know. Say, how have you escaped? + +TELL. + +I lay on deck, fast bound with cords, disarm'd, +In utter hopelessness. I did not think +Again to see the gladsome light of day, +Nor the dear faces of my wife and boys, +And eyed disconsolate the waste of waters.-- + +FISHER. + +Oh, wretched man! + +TELL. + +Then we put forth; the Viceroy, +Rudolph der Harras, and their suite. My bow +And quiver lay astern beside the helm; +And just as we had reached the corner, near +The little Axen,[57] Heaven ordain'd it so, +That from the Gotthardt's gorge, a hurricane +Swept down upon us with such headlong force +That every oarsman's heart within him sank, +And all on board look'd for a watery grave. +Then heard I one of the attendant train, +Turning to Gessler, in this wise accost him: +"You see our danger, and your own, my lord, +And that we hover on the verge of death. +The boatmen there are powerless from fear, +Nor are they confident what course to take;-- +Now, here is Tell, a stout and fearless man, +And knows to steer with more than common skill; +How if we should avail ourselves of him +In this emergency?" The Viceroy then +Address'd me thus: "If thou wilt undertake +To bring us through this tempest safely, Tell, +I might consent to free thee from thy bonds." +I answer'd, "Yes, my lord; so help me God, +I'll see what can be done." On this they loosed +The cords that bound me, and I took my place +Beside the helm, and steered as best I could, +Yet ever eyed my shooting gear askance, +And kept a watchful eye upon the shore, +To find some point where I might leap to land: +And when I had descried a shelving crag, +That jutted, smooth atop into the lake-- + +FISHER. + +I know it. At the foot of the Great Axen; +So steep it looks, I never could have dreamt +That from a boat a man could leap to it. + +TELL. + +I bade the men to row with all their force +Until we came before the shelving ledge. +For there, I said, the danger will be past! +Stoutly they pull'd, and soon we near'd the point; +One prayer to God for His assisting grace, +And, straining every muscle, I brought round +The vessel's stern close to the rocky wall; +Then snatching up my weapons, with a bound +I swung myself upon the flattened shelf, +And with my feet thrust off, with all my might, +The puny bark into the watery hell. +There let it drift about, as Heaven ordains! +Thus am I here, deliver'd from the might +Of the dread storm, and man's more dreadful still. + +FISHER. + +Tell, Tell, the Lord has manifestly wrought +A miracle in thy behalf! I scarce +Can credit my own eyes. But tell me, now, +Whither you propose to betake yourself? +For you will be in peril, should perchance +The Viceroy 'scape this tempest with his life. + +TELL. + +I heard him say, as I lay bound on board, +At Brunnen he proposed to disembark, +And, crossing Schwytz, convey me to his castle. + +FISHER. + +Means he to go by land? + +TELL. + +So he intends. + +FISHER. + +Oh, then conceal yourself without delay! +Not twice will Heaven release you from his grasp. + +TELL. + +Which is the nearest way to Arth and Küssnacht? + +FISHER. + +The public road leads by the way of Steinen, +But there's a nearer road, and more retired, +That goes by Lowerz, which my boy can show you. + +TELL (_gives his hand_). + +May Heaven reward your kindness! Fare ye well. + + [_As he is going, he comes back_.] + +Did not you also take the oath at Rootli? +I heard your name, methinks. + +FISHERMAN. + + Yes, I was there, +And took the oath of the confederacy. + +TELL. + +Then do me this one favor: speed to Bürglen-- +My wife is anxious at my absence--tell her +That I am, free, and in secure concealment. + +FISHER. + +But whither shall I tell her you have fled? + +TELL. + +You'll find her father with her, and some more, +Who took the oath with you upon the Rootli; +Bid them resolute and strong of heart-- +For Tell is free and master of his arm; +They shall hear further news of me ere long. + +FISHER. + +What have you, then, in view? Come, tell me frankly! + +TELL. + +When once 'tis _done_, 'twill be in every mouth. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISHER. + +Show him the way, boy. Heaven be his support! +Whate'er he has resolved, he'll execute. + + [_Exit_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_Baronial mansion of Attinghausen. The_ BARON _upon a couch +dying_. WALTER FÜRST, STAUFFACHER, MELCHTHAL, _and_ +BAUMGARTEN _attending round him_, WALTER TELL _kneeling +before the dying man_. + +FÜRST. + +All now is over with him. He is gone. + +STAUFF. + +He lies not like one dead. The feather, see, +Moves on his lips! His sleep is very calm, +And on his features plays a placid smile. + +[BAUMGARTEN _goes to the door and speaks with some one_.] + +FÜRST. + +Who's there? + +BAUMGARTEN (_returning_). + + Tell's wife, your daughter, she insists +That she must speak with you, and see her boy. + + [WALTER TELL _rises_.] + +FÜRST. + +I who need comfort--can I comfort her? +Does every sorrow centre on my head? + +HEDWIG (_forcing her way in_). + +Where is my child? unhand me! I must see him. + +STAUFF. + +Be calm! Reflect, you're in the house of death! + +HEDWIG (_falling upon her boy's neck_). + +My Walter! Oh, he yet is mine! + +WALTER. + +Dear mother! + +HEDWIG. + +And, is it surely so? Art thou unhurt? + + [_Gazing at him with anxious tenderness_.] + +And is it possible he aim'd at thee? +How could he do it? Oh, he has no heart-- +And he could wing an arrow at his child! + +FÜRST. + +His soul was rack'd with anguish when he did it. +No choice was left him but to shoot or die! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, if he had a father's heart, he would +Have sooner perish'd by a thousand deaths! + +STAUFF. + +You should be grateful for God's gracious care, +That ordered things so well. + +HEDWIG. + + Can I forget +What might have been the issue. God in Heaven, +Were I to live for centuries, I still +Should see my boy tied up--his father's mark-- +And still the shaft would quiver in my heart. + +MELCH. + +You know not how the Viceroy taunted him! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, ruthless heart of man! Offend his pride, +And reason in his breast forsakes her seat; +In his blind wrath he'll stake upon a cast +A child's existence, and a mother's heart! + +BAUM. + +Is then your husband's fate not hard enough, +That you embitter it by such reproaches? +Have you no feeling for his sufferings? + +HEDWIG (_turning to him and gazing full upon him_). + +Hast thou tears only for thy friend's distress? +Say, where were you when he--my noble Tell-- +Was bound in chains? Where was your friendship then? +The shameful wrong was done before your eyes; +Patient you stood, and let your friend be dragg'd, +Ay, from your very hands. Did ever Tell +Act thus to you? Did he stand whining by, +When on your heels the Viceroy's horsemen press'd, +And full before you roared the storm-toss'd lake? +Oh not with idle tears his pity show'd! +Into the boat he sprang, forgot his home, +His wife, his children, and delivered thee! + +FÜRST. + +It had been madness to attempt his rescue, +Unarmed, and few in numbers as we were. + +HEDWIG (_casting herself upon his bosom_). + +Oh, father, and thou, too, hast lost my Tell! +The country--all have lost him! All lament +His loss; and, oh, how he must pine for us! +Heaven keep his soul from sinking to despair! +No friend's consoling voice can penetrate +His dreary dungeon walls. Should he fall sick! +Ah! In the vapors of the murky vault +He must fall sick. Even as the Alpine rose +Grows pale and withers in the swampy air, +There is no life for him but in the sun +And in the breath of Heaven's fresh-blowing airs. +Imprison'd! Liberty to him is breath; +He cannot live in the rank dungeon air! + +STAUFF. + +Pray you be calm! And hand in hand we'll all +Combine to burst his prison doors. + +HEDWIG. + + He gone, +What have you power to do? While Tell was free, +There still, indeed, was hope--weak innocence +Had still a friend, and the oppress'd a stay. +Tell saved you all! You cannot all combined +Release him from his cruel prison bonds. + + [_The_ BARON _wakes_.] + +BAUM. + +Hush, hush! He starts! + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_sitting up_). + + Where is he? + +STAUFFACHER. + + Who? + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + He leaves me-- +In my last moments he abandons me. + +STAUFF. + +He means his nephew. Have they sent for him? + +FÜRST. + +He has been summoned. Cheer'ly, sir! Take comfort! +He has found his heart at last, and is our own. + +ATTING. + +Say, has he spoken for his native land? + +STAUFF. + +Ay, like a hero! + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + Wherefore comes he not, +That he may take my blessing ere I die? +I feel my life fast ebbing to a close. + +STAUFF. + +Nay, talk not thus, dear sir! This last short sleep +Has much refresh'd you, and your eye is bright. + +ATTING. + +Life is but pain, and that has left me now; +My sufferings, like my hopes, have pass'd away. + + [_Observing the boy_.] + + What boy is that? + +FÜRST. + + Bless him. Oh, good my lord! +He is my grandson, and is fatherless. + +[HEDWIG _kneels with the boy before the dying man_.] + +ATTING. + +And fatherless--I leave you all, ay, all! +Oh, wretched fate, that these old eyes should see +My country's ruin, as they close in death! +Must I attain the utmost verge of life, +To feel my hopes go with me to the grave? + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FÜRST). + +Shall he depart 'mid grief and gloom like this? +Shall not his parting moments be illumed +By hope's inspiring beams? My noble lord, +Raise up your drooping spirit! We are not +Forsaken quite--past all deliverance. + +ATTING. + +Who shall deliver you? + +FÜRST. + + Ourselves. For know, +The Cantons three are to each other pledged, +To hunt the tyrants from the land. The league +Has been concluded, and a sacred oath +Confirms our union. Ere another year +Begins its circling course--the blow shall fall. +In a free land your ashes shall repose. + +ATTING. + +The league concluded! Is it really so? + +MELCH. + +On one day shall the Cantons rise together. +All is prepared to strike--and to this hour +The secret closely kept, though hundreds share it; +The ground is hollow 'neath the tyrants' feet; +Their days of rule are number'd, and ere long +No trace will of their hateful sway be left. + +ATTING. + +Ay, but their castles, how to master them? + +MELCH. + +On the same day they, too, are doom'd to fall. + +ATTING. + +And are the nobles parties to this league? + +STAUFF. + +We trust to their assistance, should we need it; +As yet the peasantry alone have sworn. + +ATTING. (_raising himself up in great astonishment_). + +And have the peasantry dared such a deed +On their own charge, without the nobles' aid-- +Relied so much on their own proper strength? +Nay then, indeed, they want our help no more; +We may go down to death cheer'd by the thought +That after us the majesty of man +Will live, and be maintain'd by other hands. + +[_He lays his hand upon the head of the child who is +kneeling before him_.] + +From this boy's head, whereon the apple lay, +Your new and better liberty shall spring; +The old is crumbling down--the times are changing-- +And from the ruins blooms a fairer life. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FÜRST). + +See, see, what splendor streams around his eye! +This is not Nature's last expiring flame, +It is the beam of renovated life. + +ATTING. + +From their old towers the nobles are descending, +And swearing in the towns the civic oath. +In Uechtland and Thurgau the work's begun; +The noble Berne lifts her commanding head, +And Freyburg is a stronghold of the free; +The stirring Zurich calls her guilds to arms;-- +And now, behold!--the ancient might of kings +Is shiver'd 'gainst her everlasting walls. + +[_He speaks what follows with a prophetic tone; his +utterance rising into enthusiasm_.] + +I see the princes and their haughty peers, +Clad all in steel, come striding on to crush +A harmless shepherd race with mailèd hand. +Desp'rate the conflict: 'tis for life or death; +And many a pass will tell to after years +Of glorious victories sealed in foemen's blood.[58] +The peasant throws himself with naked breast, +A willing victim on their serried spears; +They yield--the flower of chivalry's cut down, +And Freedom waves her conquering banner high. + +[_Grasps the hands of_ WALTER FÜRST _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Hold fast together, then--forever fast! +Let freedom's haunts be one in heart and mind! +Set watches on your mountain tops, that league +May answer league, when comes the hour to strike. +Be one--be one--be one-- + +[_He falls back upon the cushion. His lifeless hands +continue to grasp those of_ FÜRST _and_ STAUFFACHER, _who +regard him for some moments in silence, and then retire, +overcome with sorrow. Meanwhile the servants have quietly +pressed into the chamber, testifying different degrees of +grief. Some kneel down beside him and weep on his body: +while this scene is passing, the castle bell tolls_.] + +RUDENZ (_entering hurriedly_). + +Lives he? Oh say, can he still hear my voice? + +[Illustration: DEATH OF ATTINGHAUSEN _From the Painting by +Wilhelm von Kaulbach_] + +FÜRST (_averting his face_). + +You are our seignior and protector now; +Henceforth this castle bears another name. + +RUDENZ (_gazing at the body with deep emotion_). + +Oh, God! Is my repentance, then, too late? +Could he not live some few brief moments more, +To see the change that has come o'er my heart? +Oh, I was deaf to his true counselling voice, +While yet he walked on earth. Now he is gone-- +Gone, and for ever--leaving me the debt-- +The heavy debt I owe him--undischarged! +Oh, tell me! did he part in anger with me? + +STAUFF. + +When dying, he was told what you had done, +And bless'd the valor that inspired your words! + +RUDENZ (_kneeling down beside the dead body_). + +Yes, sacred relics of a man beloved! +Thou lifeless corpse! Here, on thy death-cold hand, +Do I abjure all foreign ties for ever! +And to my country's cause devote myself. +I am a Switzer, and will act as one, +With my whole heart and soul. + + [_Rises_.] + + Mourn for our friend, +Our common parent, yet be not dismay'd! +'Tis not alone his lands that I inherit-- +His heart--his spirit, have devolved on me; +And my young arm shall execute the task, +Which in his hoary age he could not pay. +Give me your hands, ye venerable sires! +Thine, Melchthal, too! Nay, do not hesitate, +Nor from me turn distrustfully away. +Accept my plighted vow--my knightly oath! + +FÜRST. + +Give him your hands, my friends! A heart like his, +That sees and owns its error, claims our trust. + +MELCH. + +You ever held the peasantry in scorn; +What surety have we, that you mean us fair? + +RUDENZ. + +Oh, think not of the error of my youth! + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ MELCHTHAL). + +Be one! They were our father's latest words. +See they be not forgotten! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Take my hand-- +peasant's hand--and with it, noble sir, +The gage and the assurance of a man! +Without us, sir, what would the nobles be? +Our order is more ancient, too, than yours! + +RUDENZ. + +I honor it--will shield it with my sword! + +MELCH. + +The arm, my lord, that tames the stubborn earth, +And makes its bosom blossom with increase, +Can also shield its owner's breast at need. + +RUDENZ. + +Then you shall shield my breast, and I will yours, +Thus each be strengthen'd by the other's strength. +Yet wherefore talk we, while our native land +Is still to alien tyranny a prey? +First let us sweep the foemen from the soil, +Then reconcile our difference in peace! + + [_After a moment's pause_.] + +How! You are silent! Not a word for me? +And have I yet no title to your trust?-- +Then must I force my way, despite your will, +Into the League you secretly have form'd. +You've held a Diet on the Rootli--I +Know this--know all that was transacted there; +And though not trusted with your secret, I +Have kept it closely like a sacred pledge. +Trust me--I never was my country's foe, +Nor would I ever have against you stood! +Yet you did wrong--to put your rising off. +Time presses! We must strike, and swiftly too! +Already Tell is lost through your delay. + +STAUFF. + +We swore that we should wait till Christmastide. + +RUDENZ. + +I was not there--I did not take the oath. +If you delay, I will not! + +MELCHTHAL. + + What! You would-- + +RUDENZ. + +I count me now among the country's chiefs, +And my first duty is to guard your rights. + +FÜRST. + +Your nearest and your holiest duty is +Within the earth to lay these dear remains. + +RUDENZ. + +When we have set the country free, we'll place +Our fresh victorious wreaths upon his bier. +Oh, my dear friends, 'tis not your cause alone!-- +with the tyrants have a cause to fight, +That more concerns myself. My Bertha's gone, +Has disappear'd--been carried off by stealth-- +Stolen from amongst us by their ruffian hands! + +STAUFF. + +So fell an outrage has the tyrant dared +Against a lady free and nobly born? + +RUDENZ. + +Alas! my friends, I promised help to you, +And I must first implore it for myself! +She that I love, is stolen--is forced away, +And who knows where she's by the tyrant hid, +Or with what outrages his ruffian crew +May force her into nuptials she detests? +Forsake me not!--Oh, help me to her rescue! +She loves you! Well, oh well, has she deserved, +That all should rush to arms in her behalf! + +STAUFF. + +What course do you propose? + +RUDENZ. + + Alas! I know not. +In the dark mystery that shrouds her fate-- +In the dread agony of this suspense, +Where I can grasp at naught of certainty-- +One single ray of comfort beams upon me. +From out the ruins of the tyrant's power +Alone can she be rescued from the grave. +Their strongholds must be levell'd, every one, +Ere we can penetrate her dungeon walls. + +MELCH. + +Come, lead us on! We follow! Why defer +Until tomorrow what today may do? +Tell's arm was free when we at Rootli swore. +This foul enormity was yet undone. +And change of circumstance brings change of vow; +Who such a coward as to waver still? + +RUDENZ (_to_ WALTER FÜRST). + +Meanwhile to arms, and wait in readiness +The fiery signal on the mountain tops! +For swifter than a boat can scour the lake +Shall you have tidings of our victory; +And when you see the welcome flames ascend, +Then, like the lightning, swoop upon the foe, +And lay the despots and their creatures low! + + +SCENE III + + +_The pass near Küssnacht, sloping down from behind, with +rocks on either side. The travelers are visible upon the +heights, before they appear on the stage. Rocks all around +the stage. Upon one of the foremost a projecting cliff +overgrown with brushwood._ + +TELL (_enters with his cross-bow_). + +Through this ravine he needs must come. There is +No other way to Küssnacht. Here I'll do it! +The ground is everything I could desire. +Yon elder bush will hide me from his view, +And from that point my shaft is sure to hit. +The straitness of the gorge forbids pursuit. +Now, Gessler, balance thine account with Heaven! +Thou must away from earth--thy sand is run. +Quiet and harmless was the life I led, +My bow was bent on forest game alone; +No thoughts of murder rested on my soul. +But thou hast scared me from my dream of peace; +The milk of human kindness thou hast turn'd +To rankling poison in my breast, and made +Appalling deeds familiar to my soul. +He who could make his own child's head his mark, +Can speed his arrow to his foeman's heart. +My boys, poor innocents, my loyal wife, +Must be protected, tyrant, from thy rage! +When last I drew my bow--with trembling hand-- +And thou, with fiendishly remorseless glee +Forced me to level at my own boy's head, +When I, imploring pity, writhed before thee, +Then in the anguish of my soul, I vow'd +A fearful oath, which met God's ear alone, +That when my bow next wing'd an arrow's flight, +Its aim should be thy heart. The vow I made, +Amid the hellish torments of that moment, +I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it. +Thou art my lord, my Emperor's delegate; +Yet would the Emperor not have stretch'd his power +So far as thou halt done. He sent thee here +To deal forth law--stern law--for he is wroth, +But not to wanton with unbridled will +In every cruelty, with fiend-like joy:-- +There lives a God to punish and avenge. +Come forth, thou bringer once of bitter pangs, +My precious jewel now--my chiefest treasure-- +A mark I'll set thee, which the cry of grief +Could never penetrate--but thou shalt pierce it-- +And thou, my trusty bow-string, that so oft +For sport has served me faithfully and well, +Desert me not in this dread hour of need-- +Only be true this once, my own good cord, +That hast so often wing'd the biting shaft:-- +For shouldst thou fly successless from my hand, +I have no second to send after thee. + + [_Travelers pass over the stage_.] + +I'll sit me down upon this bench of stone, +Hewn for the way-worn traveler's brief repose-- +For here there is no home. Men hurry past +Each other, with quick step and careless look, +Nor stay to question of their grief. Here goes +The merchant, all anxiety--the pilgrim, +With scantly furnished scrip--the pious monk, +The scowling robber, and the jovial player, +The carrier with his heavy-laden horse +That comes to us from the far haunts of men; +For every road conducts to the world's end. +They all push onward--every man intent +On his own several business--mine is murder. + + [_Sits down_.] + +Time was, my dearest children, when with joy +You hail'd your father's safe return to home +From his long mountain toils; for, when he came, +He ever brought with him some little gift-- +A lovely Alpine flower--a curious bird-- +Or elf-bolt, such as on the hills are found. +But now he goes in quest of other game, +Sits in this gorge, with murder in his thoughts, +And for his enemy's life-blood lies in wait. +But still it is of you alone he thinks, +Dear children. 'Tis to guard your innocence, +To shield you from the tyrant's fell revenge, +He bends his bow to do a deed of blood! + + [_Rises_.] + +Well--I am watching for a noble prey! +Does not the huntsman, with unflinching heart, +Roam for whole days, when winter frosts are keen, +Leap at the risk of death from rock to rock-- +And climb the jagged, slippery steeps, to which +His limbs are glued by his own streaming blood-- +And all to hunt a wretched chamois down? +A far more precious prize is now my aim-- +The heart of that dire foe, who seeks my life. + +[_Sprightly music heard in the distance, which comes +gradually nearer_.] + +From my first years of boyhood I have used +The bow--been practised in the archer's feats; +The bull's eye many a time my shafts have hit, +And many a goodly prize have I brought home +From competitions. But this day I'll make +My master-shot, and win what's best to win +In the whole circuit of our mountain range. + +[_A bridal party passes over the stage, and goes up the +pass_. TELL _gazes at it, leaning on his bow. He is joined +by_ STUSSI _the Ranger_.] + +STUSSI. + +There goes the cloister bailiff's bridal train +Of Mörlischachen. A rich fellow he! +And has some half score pastures on the Alps. +He goes to fetch his bride from Imisee. +At Küssnacht there will be high feast tonight. +Come with us--ev'ry honest man is asked. + +TELL. + +A gloomy guest fits not a wedding feast. + +STUSSI. + +If you've a trouble, dash it from your heart! +Take what Heaven sends! The times are heavy now, +And we must snatch at pleasure as it flies. +Here 'tis a bridal, there a burial. + +TELL. + +And oft the one close on the other treads. + +STUSSI. + +So runs the world we live in. Everywhere +Mischance befalls and misery enough. +In Glarus there has been a landslip, and +A whole side of the Glärnisch has fallen in. + +TELL. + +How! Do the very hills begin to quake? +There is stability for naught on earth. + +STUSSI. + +Of strange things, too, we hear from other parts. +I spoke with one but now, from Baden come, +Who said a knight was on his way to court, +And, as he rode along, a swarm of wasps +Surrounded him, and settling on his horse, +So fiercely stung the beast, that it fell dead, +And he proceeded to the court on foot. + +TELL. + +The weak are also furnish'd with a sting. + +ARMGART (_enters with several children, and places herself +at the entrance of the pass_). + +STUSSI. + +'Tis thought to bode disaster to the land-- +Some horrid deeds against the course of nature. + +TELL. + +Why, every day brings forth such fearful deeds; +There needs no prodigy to herald them. + +STUSSI. + +Ay, happy he, who tills his field in peace, +And sits at home untroubled with his kin. + +TELL. + +The very meekest cannot be at peace +If his ill neighbor will not let him rest. + +[TELL _looks frequently with restless expectation toward the +top of the pass_.] + +STUSSI. + +So fare you well! You're waiting someone here? + +TELL. + +I am. + +STUSSI. + + God speed you safely to your home! +You are from Uri, are you not? His grace +The governor's expected thence today. + +TRAVELER (_entering_). + +Look not to see the governor today. +The streams are flooded by the heavy rains, +And all the bridges have been swept away. + + [TELL _rises_.] + +ARMGART (_coming forward_). + +Gessler not coming? + +STUSSI. + + Want you aught with him? + +ARMGART. + +Alas, I do! + +STUSSI. + +Why then, thus place yourself +Where you obstruct his passage down the pass? + +ARMGART. + +Here he cannot escape me. He _must_ hear me. + +FRIESSHARDT (_coming hastily down the pass and calls upon +the stage_). + +Make way, make way! My lord, the governor, +Is close behind me, riding down the pass. + + [_Exit_ TELL.] + +ARMGART (_excitedly_). + +The Viceroy comes! + +[_She goes toward the pass with her children_. GESSLER _and_ +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS _appear on horseback at the upper end of +the pass_.] + +STUSSI (_to_ FRIESSHARDT). + +How got ye through the stream, +When all the bridges have been carried down? + +FRIESS. + +We've fought, friend, with the tempest on the lake; +An Alpine torrent's nothing after that. + +STUSSI. + +How! Were you out, then, in that dreadful storm? + +FRIESS. + +We were! I'll not forget it while I live. + +STUSSI. + +Stay, speak-- + +FRIESS. + +I can't--must to the castle haste, +And tell them, that the governor's at hand. + + [_Exit_.] + +STUSSI. + +If honest men, now, had been in the ship, +It had gone down with every soul on board:-- +Some folks are proof 'gainst fire and water both. + + [_Looking round_.] + +Where has the huntsman gone with whom I spoke? + + [_Exit_.] + +_Enter_ GESSLER _and_ RUDOLPH DER HARRAS _on horseback_ + +GESSLER. + +Say what you will; I am the Emperor's liege, +And how to please him my first thought must be. +He did not send me here to fawn and cringe, +And coax these boors into good humor. No! +Obedience he must have. The struggle's this: +Is king or peasant to be sovereign here? + +ARMGART. + +Now is the moment! Now for my petition! + +GESSLER. + +'Twas not in sport that I set up the cap +In Altdorf--or to try the people's hearts-- +All this I knew before. I set it up +That they might learn to bend those stubborn necks +They carry far too proudly--and I placed +What well I knew their pride could never brook +Full in the road, which they perforce must pass, +That, when their eye fell on it, they might call +That lord to mind whom they too much forget. + +HARRAS. + +But surely, sir, the people have some rights-- + +GESSLER. + +This is no time to settle what they are. +Great projects are at work, and hatching now. +The Imperial house seeks to extend its power. +Those vast designs of conquest which the sire +Has gloriously begun, the son will end. +This petty nation is a stumbling-block-- +One way or other, it must be put down. + +[_They are about to pass on_. ARMGART _throws herself down +before_ GESSLER.] + +ARMGART. + +Mercy, lord governor! Oh, pardon, pardon! + +GESSLER. + +Why do you cross me on the public road? +Stand back, I say. + +ARMGART. + + My husband lies in prison; +My wretched orphans cry for bread. Have pity, +Pity, my lord, upon our sore distress! + +HARRAS. + +Who are you? and your husband, what is he? + +ARMGART. + +A poor wild hay-man of the Rigiberg, +Kind sir, who on the brow of the abyss, +Mows the unowner'd grass from craggy shelves, +To which the very cattle dare not climb. + +HARRAS (_to_ GESSLER). + +By Heaven! a sad and pitiable life! +I pray you set the wretched fellow free. +How great soever may be his offence, +His horrid trade is punishment enough. + + [_To_ ARMGART.] + +You shall have justice. To the castle bring +Your suit. This is no place to deal with it. + +ARMGART. + +No, no, I will not stir from where I stand, +Until your grace gives me my husband back. +Six months already has he been shut up, +And waits the sentence of a judge in vain. + +GESSLER. + +How! would you force me, woman? Hence! Begone! + +ARMGART. + +Justice, my lord! Ay, justice! Thou are judge, +Vice-regent of the Emperor--of Heaven. +Then do thy duty--as thou hopest for justice +From Him who rules above, show it to us! + +GESSLER. + +Hence! Drive this insolent rabble from my sight! + +ARMGART (_seizing his horse's reins_). + +No, no, by Heaven, I've nothing more to lose.-- +Thou stir'st not, Viceroy, from this spot, until +Thou dost me fullest justice. Knit thy brows, +And roll thine eyes--I fear not. Our distress +Is so extreme, so boundless, that we care +No longer for thine anger. + +GESSLER. + + Woman, hence! +Give way, or else my horse shall ride you down. + +ARMGART. + + Well, let it!--there-- + +[_Throws her children and herself upon the ground before him_.] + + Here on the ground I lie, +I and my children. Let the wretched orphans +Be trodden by thy horse into the dust! +It will not be the worst that thou hast done. + +HARRAS. + +Are you mad, woman? + +ARMGART (_continuing with vehemence_). + + Many a day thou hast +Trampled the Emperor's lands beneath thy feet. +Oh, I am but a woman! Were I man, +I'd find some better thing to do, than here +Lie grovelling in the dust. + +[_The music of the bridal party is again heard +from the top of the pass, but more softly_.] + +GESSLER. + + Where are my knaves? +Drag her away, lest I forget myself, +And do some deed I may repent me of. + +HARRAS. + +My lord, the servants cannot force their way; +The pass is block'd up by a bridal train. + +GESSLER. + +Too mild a ruler am I to this people, +Their tongues are all too bold--nor have they yet +Been tamed to due submission, as they shall be. +I must take order for the remedy; +I will subdue this stubborn mood of theirs, +This braggart spirit of freedom I will crush, +I will proclaim a new law through the land; +I will-- + +[_An arrow pierces him--he puts his hand on his heart, and +is about to sink--with a feeble voice_.] + + Oh God, have mercy on my soul! + +HARRAs. + +My lord! my lord! Oh God! What's this? Whence came it? + +ARMGART (_starts up_). + +Dead, dead! He reels, he falls! 'Tis in his heart! + +HARRAS (_springs from his horse_). + +Horror of horrors! Heavenly powers! Sir knight, +Address yourself for mercy to your God! +You are a dying man. + +GESSLER. + +That shot was Tell's. + +[_He slides from his horse into the arms of_ RUDOLPH DER +HARRAS, _who lays him down upon the beach_. TELL _appears +above upon the rocks_.] + +TELL. + +Thou know'st the marksman--I, and I alone. +Now are our homesteads free, and innocence +From thee is safe: thou'lt be our curse no more. + + [TELL _disappears. People rush in_.] + +STUSSI. + +What is the matter? Tell me what has happen'd? + +ARMGART. + +The Viceroy's shot--pierced by a cross-bow bolt! + +PEOPLE (_running in_). + +Who has been shot? + +[_While the foremost of the marriage party are coming on the +stage, the hindmost are still upon the heights. The music +continues_.] + +HARRAS. + +He's bleeding fast to death. +Away, for help--pursue the murderer! +Unhappy man, is this to be your end? +You would not listen to my warning words. + +STUSSI. + +By Heaven, his cheek is pale! Life's ebbing fast. + +MANY VOICES. + +Who did the deed? + +HARRAS. + +What! Are the people mad, +That they make music to a murder? Silence! + +[_Music breaks off suddenly. People continue to flock in_.] + +Speak, if you can, my lord. Have you no charge +To trust me with? + +[GESSLER _makes signs with his hand, which he repeats with +vehemence, when he finds they are not understood_.] + + Where shall I take you to? +To Küssnacht? What you say I can't make out. +Oh, do not grow impatient! Leave all thought +Of earthly things and make your peace with Heaven. + +[_The whole marriage party gather round the dying man_.] + +STUSSI. + +See there! how pale he grows! Death's gathering now +About his heart--his eyes grow dim and glazed. + +ARMGART (_holds up a child_). + +Look, children, how a tyrant dies! + +HARRAS. + + Mad hag! +Have you no touch of feeling, that your eyes +Gloat on a sight so horrible as this? +Help me--take hold. What, will not one assist +To pull the torturing arrow from his breast? + +WOMEN. + +What! touch the man whom God's own hand has struck! + +HARRAS. + +All curses light on you! [_Draws his sword_.] + +STUSSI (_seizes his arm_). + + Gently, sir knight! +Your power is at end. 'Twere best forbear. +Our country's foe has fallen. We will brook +No further violence. We are free men. + +ALL. + +The country's free. + +HARRAS. + +And is it come to this? +Fear and obedience at an end so soon? + +[_To the soldiers of the guard who are thronging in_.] + +You see, my friends, the bloody piece of work +Has here been done. 'Tis now too late for help, +And to pursue the murderer were vain. +We've other things to think of. On to Küssnacht, +And let us save that fortress for the king! +For in a moment such as this, all ties +Of order, fealty and faith are rent, +And we can trust to no man's loyalty. + +[_As he is going out with the soldiers, six_ FRATRES +MISERICORDIÆ _appear_.] + +ARMGART. + +Here comes the brotherhood of mercy. Room! + +STUSSI. + +The victim's slain, and now the ravens stoop. + +BROTHERS OF MERCY (_form a semicircle round the body, and +sing in solemn tones)._ + +Death hurries on with hasty stride, + No respite man from him may gain, + +He cuts him down, when life's full tide + Is throbbing strong in every vein. +Prepared or not the call to hear, + He must before his Judge appear. + +[_While they are repeating the two last lines, the curtain +falls_.] + + +ACT V + +SCENE I + +_A common near Altdorf. In the background to the right the +Keep of Uri, with the scaffold still standing, as in the +Third Scene of the first Act. To the left, the view opens +upon numerous mountains, on all of which signal fires are +burning. Day is breaking, and distant bells are heard +ringing in several directions._ + +RUODI, KUONI, WERNI, MASTER MASON, _and many other country +people, also women and children_. + +RUODI. + +See there! The beacons on the mountain heights! + +MASON. + +Hark how the bells above the forest toll! + +RUODI. + +The enemy's routed. + +MASON. + +And the forts are storm'd. + +RUODI. + +And we of Uri, do we still endure +Upon our native soil the tyrant's keep? +Are we the last to strike for liberty? + +MASON. + +Shall the yoke stand, that was to curb our necks? +Up! Tear it to the ground! + +ALL. + +Down, down with it! + +RUODI. + +Where is the Stier of Uri? + +URI. + + Here. What would ye? + +RUODI. + +Up to your tower, and wind us such a blast +As shall resound afar, from peak to peak; +Rousing the echoes of each glen and hill, +To rally swiftly all the mountain men! + + [_Exit_ STIER OF URI--_Enter_ WALTER FÜRST.] + +FÜRST. + +Stay, stay, my friends! As yet we have not learn'd +What has been done in Unterwald and Schwytz. +Let's wait till we receive intelligence! + +RUODI. + +Wait, wait for what? The accursed tyrant's dead. +And on us freedom's glorious day has dawn'd! + +MASON. + +How! Are these flaming signals not enough, +That blaze on every mountain top around? + +RUODI. + +Come all, fall to--come, men and women, all! +Destroy the scaffold! Burst the arches! Down, +Down with the walls, let not a stone remain! + +MASON. + +Come, comrades, come! We built it, and we know +How best to hurl it down. + +ALL. + +Come! Down with it! + + [_They fall upon the building on every side_.] + +FÜRST. + +The floodgate's burst. They're not to be restrained. + + [_Enter_ MELCHTHAL _and_ BAUMGARTEN.] + +MELCH. + +What! Stands the fortress still, when Sarnen lies +In ashes, and the Rossberg's in our hands? + +FÜRST. + +You, Melchthal, here? D'ye bring us liberty? +Are all the Cantons from our tyrants freed? + +MELCH. + +We've swept them from the soil. Rejoice, my friend, +Now, at this very moment, while we speak, +There's not one tyrant left in Switzerland! + +FÜRST. + +How did you get the forts into your power? + +MELCH. + +Rudenz it was who by a bold assault +With manly valor mastered Sarnen's keep. +The Rossberg I had storm'd the night before. +But hear what chanced! Scarce had we driven the foe +Forth from the keep, and given it to the flames, +That now rose crackling upwards to the skies, +When from the blaze rush'd Diethelm, Gessler's page, +Exclaiming, "Lady Bertha will be burnt!" + +FÜRST. + + Good heavens! + +[_The beams of the scaffold are heard falling_.] + +MELCH. + +'Twas she herself. Here had she been +By Gessler's orders secretly immured. +Up sprang Rudenz in frenzy. For even now +The beams and massive posts were crashing down, +And through the stifling smoke the piteous shrieks +Of the unhappy lady. + +FÜRST. + +Is she saved? + +MELCH. + +'Twas not a time to hesitate or pause! +Had he been but our baron, and no more, +We should have been most chary of our lives; +But he was our confederate, and Bertha +Honor'd the people. So, without a thought, +We risk'd the worst, and rush'd into the flames. + +FÜRST. + +But is she saved? + +MELCH. + + + She is. Rudenz and I +Bore her between us from the blazing pile, +With crashing timbers toppling all around. +And when she had revived, the danger past, +And raised her eyes to look upon the sun, +The baron fell upon my breast; and then +A silent vow between us two was sworn, +A vow that, welded in yon furnace heat, +Will last through ev'ry shock of time and fate. + +FÜRST. + +Where is the Landenberg? + +MELCHTHAL. + + Across the Brünig. +'Twas not my fault he bore his sight away, +He who had robb'd my father of his eyes! +He fled--I followed--overtook him soon, +And dragg'd him to my father's feet. The sword +Already quiver'd o'er the caitiff's head, +When from the pity of the blind old man, +He wrung the life which, craven-like, he begged. +He swore URPHEDE,[59] never to return +He'll keep his oath, for he has felt our arm. + +FÜRST. + +Oh, well for you, you have not stain'd with blood +Our spotless victory! + +CHILDREN (_running across the stage with fragments of_ +_wood_). + + We're free! we're free! + +FÜRST. + +Oh! what a joyous scene! These children will +Remember it when all their heads are gray. + +[_Girls bring in the cap upon a pole. The whole stage is +filled with people_.] + +RUODI. + +Here is the cap, to which we were to bow! + +BAUM. + +What shall we do with it? Do you decide! + +FÜRST. + +Heavens! 'Twas beneath this cap my grandson stood! + +SEVERAL VOICES. + +Destroy the emblem of the tyrant's power! +Let it be burnt! + +FÜRST. + +No. Rather be preserved; +'Twas once the instrument of despots--now +'Twill of our freedom be a lasting sign. + +[_Peasants, men, women, and children, some standing, others +sitting upon the beams of the shattered scaffold, all +picturesquely grouped, in a large semicircle_.] + +MELCH. + +Thus now, my friends, with light and merry hearts, +We stand upon the wreck of tyranny; +And gloriously the work has been fulfilled +Which we at Rootli pledged ourselves to do. + +FÜRST. + +No, not fulfilled. The work is but begun: +Courage and concord firm, we need them both; +For, be assured, the king will make all speed, +To avenge his Viceroy's death, and reinstate, +By force of arms, the tyrant we've expell'd. + +MELCH. + +Why let him come, with all his armaments! +The foe's expelled that press'd us from within; +The foe without we are prepared to meet? + +RUODI. + +The passes to our Cantons are but few; +These with our bodies we will block, we will! + +BAUM. + +Knit are we by a league will ne'er be rent, +And all his armies shall not make us quail. + +[_Enter_ RÖSSELMANN _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +RÖSSELMANN (_speaking as he enters_). + +These are the awful judgments of the Lord! + +PEASANT. + +What is the matter? + +RÖSSELMANN. + +In what times we live! + +FÜRST. + +Say on, what is't? Ha, Werner, is it you? +What tidings? + +PEASANT. + +What's the matter? + +RÖSSELMANN. + +Hear and wonder! + +STAUFF. + +We are released from one great cause of dread. + +RÖSSEL. + +The Emperor is murdered. + +FÜRST. + +Gracious Heaven! + +[PEASANTS _rise up and throng round_ STAUFFACHER.] + +ALL. + +Murder'd!--the Emp'ror? What! The Emp'ror! Hear! + +MELCH. + +Impossible! How came you by the news? + +STAUFF. + +'Tis true! Near Bruck, by the assassin's hand, +King Albert fell. A most trustworthy man, +John Müller, from Schaffhausen, brought the news. + +FÜRST. + +Who dared commit so horrible a deed? + +STAUFF. + +The doer makes the deed more dreadful still; +It was his nephew, his own brother's son, +Duke John of Austria, who struck the blow. + +MELCH. + +What drove him to so dire a parricide? + +STAUFF. + +The Emp'ror kept his patrimony back, +Despite his urgent importunities; +'Twas said, he meant to keep it for himself, +And with a mitre to appease the duke. +However this may be, the duke gave ear +To the ill counsel of his friends in arms; +And with the noble lords, Von Eschenbach, +Von Tegerfeld, Von Wart and Palm, resolved, +Since his demands for justice were despised, +With his own hands to take revenge at least. + +FÜRST. + +But say--the dreadful deed, how was it done? + +STAUFF. + +The king was riding down from Stein to Baden. +Upon his way to join the court at Rheinfeld-- +With him a train of high-born gentlemen, +And the young Princes John and Leopold; +And when they'd reach'd the ferry of the Reuss, +The assassins forced their way into the boat, +To separate the Emperor from his suite. +His highness landed, and was riding on +Across a fresh plough'd field--where once, they say, +A mighty city stood in Pagan times-- +With Habsburg's ancient turrets full in sight, +That was the cradle of his princely race. +When Duke John plunged a dagger in his throat, +Palm ran him thro' the body with his lance, +And Eschenbach, to end him, clove his skull; +So down he sank, all weltering in his blood, +On his own soil, by his own kinsmen slain. +Those on the opposite bank beheld the deed, +But, parted by the stream, could only raise +An unavailing cry of loud lament. +A poor old woman, sitting by the way, +Raised him, and on her breast he bled to death. + +MELCH. + +Thus has he dug his own untimely grave, +Who sought insatiably to grasp at all. + +STAUFF. + +The country round is fill'd with dire alarm, +The passes are blockaded everywhere, +And sentinels on ev'ry frontier set; +E'en ancient Zurich barricades her gates, +That have stood open for these thirty years, +Dreading the murd'rers and th' avengers more. +For cruel Agnes comes, the Hungarian queen, +By all her sex's tenderness untouch'd, +Arm'd with the thunders of the ban, to wreak +Dire vengeance for her parent's royal blood +On the whole race of those that murder'd him-- +Their servants, children, children's children--yea, +Upon the stones that built their castle walls. +Deep has she sworn a vow to immolate +Whole generations on her father's tomb, +And bathe in blood as in the dew of May. + +MELCH. + +Is't known which way the murderers have fled? + +STAUFF. + +No sooner had they done the deed, than they +Took flight each following a different route, +And parted ne'er to see each other more. +Duke John must still be wand'ring in the mountains. + +FÜRST. + +And thus their crime has borne no fruit for them. +Revenge bears never fruit. Itself, it is +The dreadful food it feeds on; its delight +Is murder--its satiety despair. + +STAUFF. + +The assassins reap no profit by their crime; +But we shall pluck with unpolluted hands +The teeming fruits of their most bloody deed. +For we are ransomed from our heaviest fear; +The direst foe of liberty has fallen, +And, 'tis reported, that the crown will pass +From Habsburg's house into another line; +The Empire is determined to assert +Its old prerogative of choice, I hear. + +FÜRST _and several others_. + +Is any named? + +STAUFFACHER. + +The Count of Luxembourg's +Already chosen by the general voice. + +FÜRST. + +'Tis well we stood so staunchly by the Empire! +Now we may hope for justice, and with cause. + +STAUFF. + +The Emperor will need some valiant friends. +He will 'gainst Austria's vengeance be our +shield. + +[_The peasantry embrace. Enter_ SACRISTAN _with Imperial +messenger_.] + +SACRIST. + +Here are the worthy chiefs of Switzerland! + +RÖSSELMANN _and several others_. + +Sacrist, what news? + +SACRISTAN. + +A courier brings this letter. + +ALL (_to_ WALTER FÜRST). + + Open and read it. + +FÜRST (_reading_). + + "To the worthy men +Of Uri, Schwytz, and Unterwald, the Queen +Elizabeth sends grace and all good wishes!" + +MANY VOICES. + +What wants the queen with us? Her reign is done. + +FÜRST (_reads_). + +"In the great grief and doleful widowhood, +In which the bloody exit of her lord +Has plunged the queen, still in her mind she bears +The ancient faith and love of Switzerland." + +MELCH. + +She ne'er did that in her prosperity. + +RÖSSEL. + +Hush, let us hear! + +FÜRST (_reads_). + +"And she is well assured, +Her people will in due abhorrence hold +The perpetrators of this damnèd deed. +On the three Cantons, therefore, she relies, +That they in nowise lend the murderers aid; +But rather, that they loyally assist, +To give them up to the avenger's hand, +Remembering the love and grace which they +Of old received from Rudolph's royal house." + +[_Symptoms of dissatisfaction among the peasantry_.] + +MANY VOICES. + +The love and grace! + +STAUFF. + +Grace from the father we, indeed, received, +But what have we to boast of from the song +Did he confirm the charter of our freedom, +As all preceding emperors had done? +Did he judge righteous judgment, or afford +Shelter, or stay, to innocence oppress'd? +Nay, did he e'en give audience to the men +We sent to lay our grievances before him? +Not one of all these things did the king do, +And had we not ourselves achieved our rights +By our own stalwart hands, the wrongs we bore +Had never touch'd him. Gratitude to him! +Within these vales he sowed no seeds of that; +He stood upon an eminence--he might +Have been a very father to his people, +But all his aim and pleasure was to raise +Himself and his own house: and now may those +Whom he has aggrandized, lament for him; + +FÜRST. + + We will not triumph in his fall, nor now +Recall to mind the wrongs that we endured. +Far be't from us! Yet, that we should avenge +The sovereign's death, who never did us good, +And hunt down those who ne'er molested us, +Becomes us not, nor is our duty. Love +Must be a tribute free, and unconstrain'd; +From all enforced duties death absolves, +And unto him we owe no further debt. + +MELCH. + +And if the queen laments within her bower, +Accusing Heaven in sorrow's wild despair; +Here see a people, from its anguish freed, +To that same Heav'n send up its thankful praise. +Who would reap tears must sow the seeds of love. + + [_Exit the Imperial Courier_.] + +STAUFFACHER (_to the people_). + +But where is Tell? Shall he, our freedom's founder, +Alone be absent from our festival? +He did the most--endured the worst of all. +Come--to his dwelling let us all repair, +And bid the Savior of our country hail! + + [_Exeunt omnes_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_Interior of_ TELL's _cottage. A fire burning on the hearth. The open door +shows the scene outside._ + +HEDWIG, WALTER, _and_ WILLIAM + +HEDWIG. + +My own dear boys! your father comes today; +He lives, is free, and we, and all are free; +The country owes its liberty to him! + +WALTER. +And I, too, mother, bore my part in it! +I must be named with him. My father's shaft +Ran my life close, but yet I never flinch'd. + +HEDWIG (_embracing him_). + +Yes, yes, thou art restored to me again! +Twice have I seen thee given to my sad eyes, +Twice suffered all a mother's pangs for thee! +But this is past--I have you both, boys, both! +And your dear father will be back today. + + [_A monk appears at the door_.] + +WILLIAM. + +See, mother, yonder stands a holy friar; +He comes for alms, no doubt. + +HEDWIG. + + Go lead him in, +That we may give him cheer, and make him feel +That he has come into the house of joy. + + [_Exit and returns immediately with a cup_.] + +WILLIAM (_to the monk_). + +Come in, good man. Mother will give you food! + +WALTER. + +Come in and rest, then go refresh'd away! + +MONK (_glancing round in terror, with unquiet looks_). + +Where am I? In what country? Tell me. + +WALTER. + + How! +Are you bewildered, that you know not where? +You are at Bürglen, in the land of Uri, +Just at the entrance of the Shechenthal. + +MONK. (_to_ HEDWIG). + +Are you alone? Your husband, is he here? + +HEDWIG. + +I am expecting him. But what ails you, man? +There's something in your looks, that omens ill! +Whoe'er you be, you are in want--take that. + + [_Offers him the cup_.] + +MONK. + +Howe'er my sinking heart may yearn for food, +Nought will I taste till you have promised first-- + +HEDWIG. + +Touch not my garments, come not near me, monk! +You must stand farther back, if I'm to hear you. + +MONK. + +Oh, by this hearth's bright hospitable blaze, +By your dear children's heads, which I embrace-- + + [_Grasps the boys_.] + +HEDWIG. + +Stand back, I say! What is your purpose, man? +Back from my boys! You are no monk,--no, no, +Beneath the robe you wear peace should abide, +But peace abides not in such looks as yours. + +MONK. + +I am the wretchedest of living men. + +HEDWIG. + +The heart is never deaf to wretchedness; +But your look freezes up my inmost soul. + +WALTER (_springs up_). + +Mother, here's father! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, my God! + + [_Is about to follow, trembles and stops_.] + +WILLIAM (_running after his brother_). + +My father! + +WALTER (_without_). + +Here, here once more! + +WILLIAM (_without_). + + My father, my dear father! + +TELL (_without_). + +Yes, here once more! Where is your mother, boys? + + [_They enter_.] + +WALTER. + +There at the door she stands, and can no further, +She trembles so with terror and with joy. + +TELL. + +Oh Hedwidg, Hedwig, mother of my children! +God has been kind and helpful in our woes. +No tyrant's hand shall e'er divide us more. + +HEDWIG (_falling on his neck_). + +Oh, Tell, what anguish have I borne for thee! + + [_Monk becomes attentive_.] + +TELL. + +Forget it now, and live for joy alone! +I'm here again with you! This is my cot! +I stand again upon mine own hearth stone! + +WILLIAM. + +But, father, where's your cross-bow? Not with you? + +TELL. + +Thou shalt not ever see it more, my boy. +Within a holy shrine it has been placed, +And in the chase shall ne'er be used again. + +HEDWIG. + Oh, Tell! Tell! + + [_Steps back, dropping his hand_.] + +TELL. + What alarms thee, dearest wife? + +HEDWIG. How--how dost thou return to me? This hand-- +Dare I take hold of it? This hand--Oh God! + +TELL (_with firmness and animation_). + +Has shielded you and set my country free; +Freely I raise it in the face of Heaven. + + [MONK _gives a sudden start--he looks at him_.] + +Who is this friar here? + +HEDWIG. + + Ah, I forgot him; +Speak thou with him; I shudder at his presence. + +MONK (_stepping nearer_). + +Are you the Tell who slew the governor? + +TELL. + +Yes, I am he. I hide the fact from no man. + +MONK. + +And you are Tell! Ah! it is God's own hand, +That hath conducted me beneath your roof. + +TELL (_examining him closely_). + +You are no monk. Who are you? + +MONK. + + You have slain +The governor, who did you wrong. I, too, +Have slain a foe, who robb'd me of my rights. +He was no less your enemy than mine. +I've rid the land of him. + +TELL (_drawing back_). + + You are--oh, horror! +In--children, children--in, without a word, +Go, my dear wife! Go! Go! Unhappy man, +You should be-- + +HEDWIG. + + Heav'ns, who is it? + +TELL. + + Do not ask. +Away! away! the children must not hear it. +Out of the house--away! You must not rest +'Neath the same roof with this unhappy man! + +HEDWIG. + +Alas! What is it? Come. + + [_Exit with the children_.] + +TELL (_to the_ MONK). + + You are the Duke +Of Austria--I know it. You have slain +The Emperor, your uncle, and liege lord. + +JOHN. + +He robb'd me of my patrimony. + +TELL. + + How! +Slain him--your king, your uncle! And the earth +Still bears you! And the sun still shines on you! + +JOHN. + +Tell, hear me, ere you-- + +TELL. + + Reeking with the blood +Of him that was your Emperor, your kinsman, +Dare you set foot within my spotless house, +Dare to a honest man to show your face, +And claim the rites of hospitality? + +JOHN. + +I hoped to find compassion at your hands. +You took, like me, revenge upon your foe! + +TELL. + +Unhappy man! Dare you confound the crime +Of blood-imbued ambition with the act +Forced on a father in mere self-defence? +Have you to shield your children's darling heads, +To guard your fireside's sanctuary--ward off +The last, the direst doom from all you loved? +To Heaven I raise my unpolluted hands, +To curse your act and you! I have avenged +That holy nature which you have profaned. +I have no part with you. You murdered, I +Have shielded all that was most dear to me. + +JOHN. + +You cast me off to comfortless despair! + +TELL. + +I shrink with horror while I talk with you. +Hence, on the dread career you have begun, +Cease to pollute the home of innocence! + + [JOHN _turns to depart._] + +JOHN. + +I cannot and I will not live this life! + +TELL. + +And yet my soul bleeds for you. Gracious Heaven, +So young, of such a noble line, the grandson +Of Rudolph, once my lord and emperor, +An outcast--murderer--standing at my door, +The poor man's door--a suppliant, in despair! + + [_Covers his face_.] + +JOHN. + +If you have power to weep, oh let my fate +Move your compassion--it is horrible! +I am--say, rather was--a prince. I might +Have been most happy, had I only curb'd +The impatience of my passionate desires: +But envy gnaw'd my heart--I saw the youth +Of mine own cousin Leopold endow'd +With honor, and enrich'd with broad domains, +The while myself, of equal age with him, +In abject slavish nonage was kept back. + +TELL. + +Unhappy man, your uncle knew you well, +When from you land and subjects he withheld! +You, by your mad and desperate act have set +A fearful seal upon his wise resolve. +Where are the bloody partners of your crime? + +JOHN. + +Where'er the avenging furies may have borne them; +I have not seen them since the luckless deed. + +TELL. + +Know you the Empire's ban is out--that you +Are interdicted to your friends, and given +An outlaw'd victim to your enemies! + +JOHN. + +Therefore I shun all public thoroughfares, +And venture not to knock at any door-- +I turn my footsteps to the wilds, and through +The mountains roam, a terror to myself. +From mine own self I shrink with horror back, +If in a brook I see my ill-starr'd form. +If you have pity or a human heart-- + + [_Falls down before him_.] + +TELL. + +Stand up, stand up! I say. + +JOHN. + + Not till you give +Your hand in promise of assistance to me. + +TELL. + +Can I assist you? Can a sinful man? +Yet get ye up--how black soe'er your crime-- +You are a man. I, too, am one. From Tell +Shall no one part uncomforted. I will +Do all that lies within my power. + +DUKE JOHN (_springs up and grasps him ardently by the +hand_). + + Oh, Tell, +You save me from the terrors of despair. + +TELL. + +Let go my hand! You must away. You cannot +Remain here undiscover'd, and, discover'd, +You cannot count on succor. Which way, then, +Would you be going? Where do you hope to find +A place of rest? + +DUKE JOHN. + + Alas! I know not where. + +TELL. + +Hear, then, what Heaven unto my heart suggests. +You must to Italy--to Saint Peter's City-- +There cast yourself at the Pope's feet--confess +Your guilt to him, and ease your laden soul! + +JOHN. + +Will he not to the avengers yield me up? + +TELL. + +Whate'er he does, accept it as from God. + +JOHN. + +But how am I to reach that unknown land? +I have no knowledge of the way, and dare not +Attach myself to other travelers. + +TELL. + +I will describe the road, so mark me well! +You must ascend, keeping along the Reuss, +Which from the mountains dashes wildly down. + +DUKE JOHN (_in alarm_). + +What! See the Reuss? The witness of my deed! + +TELL. + +The road you take lies through the river's gorge, +And many a cross proclaims where travelers +Have been by avalanches done to death. + +JOHN. + +I have no fear for nature's terrors, so +I can appease the torments of my soul. + +TELL. + +At every cross, kneel down and expiate +Your crime with burning penitential tears-- +And if you 'scape the perils of the pass, +And are not whelm'd beneath the drifted snows, +That from the frozen peaks come sweeping down, +You'll reach the bridge that's drench'd with drizzling spray. +Then if it give not way beneath your guilt, +When you have left it safely in your rear, +Before you frowns the gloomy Gate of Rocks, +Where never sun did shine. Proceed through this, +And you will reach a bright and gladsome vale. +Yet must you hurry on with hasty steps, +You must not linger in the haunts of peace. + +JOHN. + +O Rudolph, Rudolph, royal grandsire! thus +Thy grandson first sets foot within thy realms! + +TELL. + +Ascending still, you gain the Gotthardt's heights, +Where are the tarns, the everlasting tarns, +That from the streams of Heaven itself are fed, +There to the German soil you bid farewell; +And thence, with swift descent, another stream +Leads you to Italy, your promised land. + +[_Ranz des Vaches sounded on Alp-horns is heard without_.] + +But I hear voices! Hence! + +HEDWIG (_hurrying in_). + + Where art thou, Tell? +My father comes, and in exulting bands +All the confederates approach. + +DUKE JOHN (_covering himself_). + + Woe's me! +I dare not tarry 'mong these happy men! + +TELL. + +Go, dearest wife, and give this man to eat. +Spare not your bounty; for his road is long, +And one where shelter will be hard to find. +Quick--they approach! + +HEDWIG. + + Who is he? + +TELL. + + Do not ask! +And when he quits you, turn your eyes away, +So that they do not see which way he goes. + + [DUKE JOHN _advances hastily toward_ TELL, _but he beckons +him aside and goes out. When both have left the stage, the +scene changes_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_The whole valley before_ TELL's _house, the heights which +inclose it occupied by peasants, grouped into tableaux. Some +are seen crossing a lofty bridge, which crosses the +Shechen_. WALTER FÜRST _with the two boys_, WERNER _and_ +STAUFFACHER, _come forward. Others throng after them. When_ +TELL _appears, all receive him with loud cheers._ + +ALL. + +Long live brave Tell, our shield, our Savior! + +[_While those in front are crowding round_ TELL, _and +embracing him_, RUDENZ _and_ BERTHA _appear. The former +salutes the peasantry, the latter embraces_ HEDWIG. _The +music front the mountains continues to play. When it has +stopped_, BERTHA _steps into the centre of the crowd_.] + +BERTHA. + +Peasants! Confederates! Into your league +Receive me, who was happily the first +That found deliverance in the land of freedom. +To your brave hands I now intrust my rights. +Will you protect me as your citizen? + +PEASANTS. + +Ay, that we will, with life and goods! + +BERTHA. 'Tis well! + +And now to him (_turning to_ RUDENZ) I frankly give my hand. +A free Swiss maiden to a free Swiss man! + +RUDENZ. + +And from this moment all my serfs are free! + + [_Music, and the curtain falls_.] + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 36: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and +G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 37: The German is, _Thalvogt_, Ruler of the Valley--the name +given figuratively to a dense gray mist which the south wind sweeps +into the valleys from the mountain tops. It is well known as the +precursor of stormy weather.] + +[Footnote 38: A steep rock, standing on the north of Rütli, and nearly +opposite to Brumen.] + +[Footnote 39: In German, _Wolfenschiessen_--a young man of noble +family, and a native of Unterwalden, who attached himself to the House +of Austria, and was appointed _Burvogt_, or Seneschal, of the Castle +of Rossberg. He was killed by Baumgarten in the manner, and for the +cause, mentioned in the text.] + +[Footnote 40: Literally, The _Föhn_ is loose! "When," says Müller, in +his History of Switzerland, "the wind called the Föhn is high, the +navigation of the lake becomes extremely dangerous. Such is its +vehemence that the laws of the country require that the fires shall be +extinguished in the houses while it lasts, and the night watches are +doubled. The inhabitants lay heavy stones upon the roofs of their +houses, to prevent their being blown away."] + +[Footnote 41: Bürglen, the birthplace and residence of Tell. A chapel, +erected in 1522, remains on the spot formerly occupied by his house.] + +[Footnote 42: Berenger von Landenberg, a man of noble family in +Thurgau, and Governor of Unterwald, infamous for his cruelties to the +Swiss, and particularly to the venerable Henry of the Halden. He was +slain at the battle of Morgarten, in 1315.] + +[Footnote 43: A cell built in the 9th century, by Meinrad, Count of +Hohenzollern, the founder of the Convent of Einsiedeln, subsequently +alluded to in the text.] + +[Footnote 44: The League, or Bond, of the Three Cantons was of very +ancient origin. They met and renewed it from time to time, especially +when their liberties were threatened with danger. A remarkable +instance of this occurred in the end of the 13th century, when +Albert, of Austria, became Emperor, and when, possibly, for the first +time, the Bond was reduced to writing. As it is important to the +understanding of many passages of the play, a translation is subjoined +of the oldest known document relating to it. The original, which is in +Latin and German, is dated in August, 1291, and is under the seals of +the whole of the men of Schwytz, the commonalty of the vale of Uri and +the whole of the men of the upper and lower vales of Stanz. + +THE BOND. + +Be it known to every one, that the men of the Dale of Uri, the +Community of Schwytz, as also the men of the mountains of Unterwald, +in consideration of the evil times, have full confidently bound +themselves, and sworn to help each other with all their power and +might, property and people, against all who shall do violence to them, +or any of them. That is our Ancient Bond. + +Whoever hath a Seignior, let him obey according to the conditions of +his service. + +We are agreed to receive into these dales no Judge, who is not a +countryman and indweller, or who hath bought his place. + +Every controversy amongst the sworn confederates shall be determined +by some of the sagest of their number, and if any one shall challenge +their judgment, then shall he be constrained to obey it by the rest. + +Whoever intentionally or deceitfully kills another, shall be +executed, and whoever shelters him shall be banished. + +Whoever burns the property of another shall no longer be regarded as a +countryman, and whoever shelters him shall make good the damage done. + +Whoever injures another, or robs him, and hath property in our +country, shall make satisfaction out of the same. + +No one shall distrain a debtor without a judge, nor any one who is not +his debtor, or the surety for such debtor. + +Every one in these dales shall submit to the judge, or we, the sworn +confederates, all will take satisfaction for all the injury occasioned +by his contumacy. And if in any internal division the one party will +not accept justice, all the rest shall help the other party. These +decrees shall, God willing, endure eternally for our general +advantage.] + +[Footnote 45: The Austrian knights were in the habit of wearing a plum +of peacocks' feathers in their helmets. After the overthrow of the +Austrian dominion in Switzerland, it was made highly penal to wear the +peacock's feather at any public assembly there.] + +[Footnote 46: The bench reserved for the nobility.] + +[Footnote 47: The Landamman was an officer chosen by the Swiss +Gemeinde, or Diet, to preside over them. The Banneret was an officer +intrusted with the keeping of the State Banner and such others as were +taken in battle.] + +[Footnote 48: According to the custom by which, when the last male +descendent of a noble family died, his sword, helmet, and shield, were +buried with him.] + +[Footnote 49: This frequently occurred. But in the event of an +imperial city being mortgaged for the purpose of raising money, it +lost its freedom, and was considered as put out of the realm.] + +[Footnote 50: An allusion to the circumstance of the Imperial Crown +not being hereditary, but conferred by election on one of the Counts +of the Empire.] + +[Footnote 51: These are the cots, or shealings, erected by the +herdsmen for shelter while pasturing their herds on the mountains +during the summer. These are left deserted in winter, during which +period Melchthal's journey was taken.] + +[Footnote 52: It was the custom at the meetings of the Landes +Gemeinde, or Diet, to set swords upright in the ground as emblems of +authority.] + +[Footnote 53: The Heribann was a muster of warriors similar to the +_arrière ban_ of France.] + +[Footnote 54: A The Duke of Suabia, who +soon afterward assassinated his uncle for withholding his patrimony +from him.] + +[Footnote 55: A sort of national militia.] + +[Footnote 56: Rocks on shore of Lake Lucerne.] + +[Footnote 57: An allusion to the gallant self-devotion of Arnold +Struthan of Winkelried, at the battle of Sempach [9th July, 1386], who +broke the Austrian phalanx by rushing on their lances, grasping as +many of them as he could reach, and concentrating them upon his +breast. The confederates rushed forward through the gap thus opened by +the sacrifice of their comrade, broke and cut down their enemy's +ranks, and soon became the masters of the field. "Dear and faithful +confederates, I will open you a passage. Protect my wife and +children," were the words of Winkelried, as he rushed to death.] + +[Footnote 58: The URPHEDE was an oath of peculiar force. When a man, +who was at feud with another, invaded his lands and was worsted, he +often made terms with his enemy by swearing the _Urphede_, by which he +bound himself to depart, and never to return with a hostile +intention.] + + * * * * * + + + +THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS + + +A MASQUE + +Dedicated in all reverence to her Imperial Highness, the Crown +Princess of Weimar, MARIA PAULOWNA, Grand-Duchess of Russia, and +produced at the Court Theatre in Weimar, November 12, 1804. + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. + + +A FATHER. +A MOTHER. +A YOUTH. +A MAIDEN. +CHORUS OF COUNTRY PEOPLE. +GENIUS. +THE SEVEN ARTS. + + +The scene is laid in a country place. In the centre of the stage, an +orange-tree, laden with fruit and bedecked with ribbons. The country +people are setting it firmly in the earth, while maidens and children, +on each side, hold it erect by means of garlands of flowers. + + + +THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS (1804) + +TRANSLATED BY A. I. DU P. COLEMAN, A.M. + +Professor of English Literature, College of the City of New York + + + THE FATHER + + Blossom, blossom, bountiful tree + With thy golden apples gay, + Which from lands so far away + We have brought for ours to see! + Fullest fruitage ever bearing, + May thy branches ne'er decay! + + ALL + + Blossom, blossom, bountiful tree, + Shooting upward strong and free! + + THE YOUTH + + With the fragrant bloom united, + Proudly hang the golden store! + May it stand by storms unblighted, + May it grow from more to more! + + ALL + + May it stand by storms unblighted, + May it grow from more to more! + + THE MOTHER + + Mother Earth, O hear my word! + Guard the tender nursling now. + Thou that lead'st the speckled herd, + God of the fields, to thee we bow! + + THE MAIDEN + + Gentle Dryads, guard its growing, + Guard it, guard it, Pan most high! + Mountain nymphs, your gifts bestowing, + Shield it when the storms are blowing-- + Bid their fury pass it by! + + ALL + + Gentle Dryads, guard its growing, + Guard it, guard it, Pan most high! + + THE YOUTH + + May kind skies smile down upon it, + Always clear and always blue! + Sun, send out thy softest radiance! + Feed it, Earth, with all thy dew! + + ALL + + Sun, send out thy softest radiance! + Feed it, Earth, with all thy dew! + + THE FATHER + + Joy, sweet joy, and life new-springing + May'st thou still to all be bringing-- + Joy it was that set thee here. + May thy gifts of nectar gather + Children's children, like their father, + And all bless thee for thy cheer! + + ALL + + Joy, sweet joy, and life new-springing + May'st thou still to all be bringing-- + Joy it was that set thee here! + + [_They dance in picturesque groups around the tree. The orchestral +music accompanies the dance, and gradually passes into a more elevated +style, as there appear in the background from above_ GENIUS _and the +Goddesses of the Seven Arts. The country people retire to the sides of +the stage_, GENIUS _comes down to the centre, with_ PAINTING, +SCULPTURE, _and_ ARCHITECTURE _on his right_, POETRY, DRAMA, MUSIC, +_and_ DANCING _on his left_.] + + [Illustration: THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS HERM. MISDICEMUS] + + THE ARTS + + We come from a far land-- + Still wandering, roaming + From people to people, + From ages to ages; + We are seeking a home that shall always endure-- + In peaceful possession + To find our expression, + In stillness creating, + No power abating-- + Yet we still seek in vain for a dwelling secure. + + THE YOUTH + + Who are these my eyes behold, + Like a troop of fairies nigh-- + Forms whose beauty ne'er was told! + Beats my heart, I know not why! + + GENIUS + + Where weapons are clashing + And trumpets are blown, + Where hearts are with hate and with madness o'erflowing, + Where mortals are wand'ring, their goal never knowing, + Thence turn we our footsteps, in haste to be gone. + + ARTS + + We hate the deceivers, + Despisers of heaven; + We seek among mortals + Who to virtue are given. + Where pure hearts have welcome + To give to a friend, + We will build habitations + To dwell without end. + + THE MAIDEN + + What is this strange feeling? + What can it betoken? + By some hidden power my nature is moved, + They call to my heart like the friends I have loved-- + Yet never before with these strangers I've spoken. + + THE COUNTRY PEOPLE + + What is this strange feeling? + What can it betoken? + + GENIUS + + Ah, but yonder see I mortals, + Come to revel with delight. + Look--with ribbons and with garlands + Richly is the tree bedight! + Surely joy their bosom fills-- + + [_To the country people_.] + + Tell me what it is you do. + + THE FATHER + + Shepherds are we of these hills, + And a feast we keep, 'tis true. + + GENIUS + + What the feast? I fain would hear! + + THE MOTHER + + In honor of our lady dear, + Great as good, and good as great, + Who, to bless our humble vale, + From her high imperial station + Has descended--her we hail! + + THE YOUTH + + For her charms our jubilation, + Kindness like the sun's warm rays! + + GENIUS + + Wherefore do you plant a tree? + + THE YOUTH + + Ah, it comes of foreign race, + And its heart toward home is yearning; + That is why we fear its turning + From its new abiding-place. + + GENIUS + + That is why you plant it deep, + With the soil its roots encase, + That its blessings you may keep + In its new abiding-place? + + THE MAIDEN + + To her native land that bind her + Many, many are the ties-- + All that she has left behind her + In her childhood's paradise: + All her mother's fond embraces, + And the love of noble brothers, + And her sisters' tender bosoms. + Can we then in equal measures, + Can the world, supply a price + For such pleasures, + For such treasures? + + GENIUS + + Love can reach to any distance, + Is not bound by far or near. + As the fire is undiminished + When another flame is kindled + With its heat, to glow more clear, + So that has no tie to bind her, + Which of old she held most dear: + Though she has left love behind her, + She will find love dwelling here. + + THE MOTHER + + She has come from halls of state, + Rich with gold and crystal sheen; + Can our hills please one so great, + Where for gold we boast but sunshine, + And our wealth is meadows green? + + GENIUS + + In a heart of princely kind + Much is hidden from your sense. + Know, then, that a noble mind + Puts the greatness into living, + Never needs to draw it thence. + + THE YOUTH + + Oh, lovely strangers, teach us to retain her! + Oh, teach us to find favor in her sight! + We long with perfumed garlands to enchain her + Within our homeland, never to take flight. + + GENIUS + + A noble heart soon finds itself at home-- + Creates, in stillness working, its own world: + And as the tree takes hold upon the earth + With eager grasping roots, and soon is fast, + So will a great and doubly royal nature + By its own noble deeds take hold on life. + Love's tender ties soon knit themselves anew-- + For where is happiness, there too is home! + + ALL THE COUNTRY PEOPLE + + Oh, handsome stranger, say how we may chain her, + The fairest, in our quiet vale retain her! + + GENIUS + + Courage! The help you seek is nigh at hand. + All is not strange to her in this new land. + Me she will know, and my attendant train, + When we have made our names and office plain. + +[GENIUS _comes forward. The Seven Arts follow him and form a +semi-circle about him. As they do so, they display their attributes, +which until this moment have been concealed beneath their robes_.] + + GENIUS (_addressing the Crown Princess_) + + Lo, I am Genius--beauty's lord alone-- + And these that follow me the sister Arts. + 'Tis we that deck the altar and the throne; + We crown the work that springs from human hearts. + Long have we dealt with thine imperial line; + And she, the noble dame that gave thee birth, + With spotless hand a dedicated shrine + Still keeps for us, a sacred spot of earth. + We follow thee obedient to her sending; + For happiness through us finds perfect ending. + +ARCHITECTURE (_a mural crown on her head, a golden ship in her right +hand_) + + By Neva's flood thou saw'st me sit at home: + Thy great forefather called me to his side-- + And there I built for him a second Rome; + Through me it grew to be an empire's pride. + A paradise of stately pleasure-grounds + Arose beneath the magic of my wand; + And now the busy hum of life resounds + Where once a desert stretched on every hand. + The thunder of the cannon of thy fleet + Alarms the hoary Neptune in his ancient seat. + + SCULPTURE (_a small image of victory in her hand_) + + Me too hast thou beheld with wondering eyes, + That did the old Olympian world restore. + Upon a cliff that age and storm defies + Its mighty image stands for evermore. + + (_Shows the Victory_) + + Lo, Victory's image, by my fingers shaped! + Thy lordly brother grasps it in his hand: + And round her form his conquering banners draped, + See Alexander bear her through the land! + I strive, but end with lifeless imitation-- + He builds of savage hordes a mighty nation. + + PAINTING + + And me, most noble, thou wilt know again-- + The fond creator of depicted form; + Know very life in all its colors plain + Upon my canvas glowing fresh and warm. + Yea, through the eyes I can deceive the heart, + My skill can cheat the senses without wronging + And still the beating of the lover's heart-- + Present the very face for which he's longing: + Wide as the poles asunder though they go, + They are not quite alone, my help who know. + + POETRY + + Through farthest space I fly on soaring pinion; + I know no limits; naught disputes my rule + Or bids me stay. I hold supreme dominion + O'er realms of thought--the Word my winged tool. + All things that move in heaven above, on earth, + Are to my penetrating eyes displayed-- + Though in the secret depths they have their birth. + No bar across the poet's path is laid. + But I have found, in all my age-long quest, + Naught fairer than a pure soul in a lovely breast. + + MUSIC (_with the lyre_) + + The might of tones that tremble on the strings, + Thou know'st it well--for thou canst wield it too. + What fills the quivering heart when music sings + Can find in me alone its utterance true. + A sweet enchantment plays on every sense + When my harmonious flood has reached its height-- + Until the enraptured soul would fain go hence + And from the lips, soft sighing, take its flight. + Where I set up my ladder, built of sound, + A way to scale the dizziest heights is found. + + DANCING (_with the cymbals_) + + In solemn stillness brooding, the Divine + Is by a silent soul perceived at rest: + Yet life and youth for gladsome motion pine-- + They must expression find, must thus be blest. + Led by soft beauty's chain, they follow me + To lose themselves within the sinuous maze. + On Zephyr's wings I raise the body free; + In dancing steps I teach symmetric grace. + Grace is the gift I bear within my hand; + All things that move I lead with magic wand. + + DRAMA (_with the double mask_) + + The mask of Janus have I in my keeping-- + On one side sorrow, on the other joy; + For man must alternate 'twixt bliss and weeping, + And with the dark is mixed a light alloy. + In all its deeps profound, its dizzy heights, + Life's tale before thine eyes I can unroll, + And make thee turn, richer for these great sights, + Into the peaceful silence of thy soul. + Who the whole world in one wide view surveys, + In his own heart no civil strife dismays. + + GENIUS + + And all of us who here appear before you, + Majestic sisterhood of noble arts, + For leave to serve you, Princess, would implore you: + Do but command, and we will play our parts. + As Theban walls obeyed the lyre's sweet sounding, + So here the senseless stone shall live at thine-- + A world of beauty rise, thine eyes astounding. + + ARCHITECTURE + + Tall columns stand in well-proportioned line. + + SCULPTURE + + The marble shape beneath the mallet's blow. + + PAINTING + + Fresh life upon the painted canvas show. + + MUSIC + + For thee the stream of harmonies shall spring. + + DANCING + + Light dances follow close the vibrant string. + DRAMA + + The whole world'll pass 'fore thee on the stage. + + POETRY + + And fancy with her magic equipage + Shall bear thee, ravished, to the fields on high. + + PAINTING + + And as the magic rainbow in the sky + Conjures its colors from the gorgeous sun, + So will we, each for all, and all as one, + With mystic sevenfold wealth of pageantry, + Weave for thee, Lady, life's great tapestry. + + ALL THE ARTS (_embracing one another_) + + For strength must wed with strength, and so impart + Beauty to life and life to forms of art. + + * * * * * + + + + +HISTORY AND LITERATURE + +THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR--THE LAST CAMPAIGNS OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS +(1792)[59] + +TRANSLATED BY THE REV. A. J. W. MORRISON, M.A. + + +The glorious battle of Leipzig effected a great change in the conduct +of Gustavus Adolphus, as well as in the opinion which both friends and +foes entertained of him. Successfully had he confronted the greatest +general of the age, and had matched the strength of his tactics and +the courage of his Swedes against the elite of the imperial army, the +most experienced troops in Europe. From this moment he felt a firm +confidence in his own powers--self-confidence has always been the +parent of great actions. In all his subsequent operations more +boldness and decision are observable; greater determination, even +amidst the most unfavorable circumstances, a more lofty tone toward +his adversaries, a more dignified bearing toward his allies, and even +in his clemency, something of the forbearance of a conqueror. His +natural courage was further heightened by the pious ardor of his +imagination. He saw in his own cause that of heaven, and in the defeat +of Tilly beheld the decisive interference of Providence against his +enemies, and in himself the instrument of divine vengeance. Leaving +his crown and his country far behind, he advanced on the wings of +victory into the heart of Germany, which for centuries had seen no +foreign conqueror within its bosom. The warlike spirit of its +inhabitants, the vigilance of its numerous princes, the artful +confederation of its states, the number of its strong castles, its +many and broad rivers, had long restrained the ambition of its +neighbors; and frequently as its extensive frontier had been attacked, +its interior had been free from hostile invasion. The Empire had +hitherto enjoyed the equivocal privilege of being its own enemy, +though invincible from without. Even now, it was merely the disunion +of its members, and the intolerance of religious zeal, that paved the +way for the Swedish invader. The bond of union between the states, +which alone had rendered the Empire invincible, was now dissolved; and +Gustavus derived from Germany itself the power by which he subdued +it. With as much courage as prudence, he availed himself of all that +the favorable moment afforded; and equally at home in the cabinet and +the field, he tore asunder the web of the artful policy, with as much +ease, as he shattered walls with the thunder of his cannon. +Uninterruptedly he pursued his conquests from one end of Germany to +the other, without breaking the line of posts which commanded a secure +retreat at any moment; and whether on the banks of the Rhine, or at +the mouth of the Lech, alike maintaining his communication with his +hereditary dominions. + +[Illustration: GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS] + +The consternation of the Emperor and the League at Tilly's defeat at +Leipzig, was scarcely greater than the surprise and embarrassment of +the allies of the King of Sweden at his unexpected success. It was +beyond both their expectations and their wishes. Annihilated in a +moment was that formidable army which, while it checked his progress +and set bounds to his ambition, rendered him in some measure dependent +on themselves. He now stood in the heart of Germany, alone, without a +rival or without an adversary who was a match for him. Nothing could +stop his progress, or check his pretensions, if the intoxication of +success should tempt him to abuse his victory. If formerly they had +dreaded the Emperor's irresistible power, there was no less cause now +to fear everything for the Empire from the violence of a foreign +conqueror, and for the Catholic Church from the religious zeal of a +Protestant king. The distrust and jealousy of some of the combined +powers, which a stronger fear of the Emperor had for a time repressed, +now revived; and scarcely had Gustavus Adolphus merited, by his +courage and success, their confidence, when they began covertly to +circumvent all his plans. Through a continual struggle with the arts +of enemies, and the distrust of his own allies, must his victories +henceforth be won; yet resolution, penetration, and prudence made +their way through all impediments. But while his success excited the +jealousy of his more powerful allies, France and Saxony, it gave +courage to the weaker, and emboldened them openly to declare their +sentiments and join his party. Those who could neither vie with +Gustavus Adolphus in importance, nor suffer from his ambition, +expected the more from the magnanimity of their powerful ally, who +enriched them with the spoils of their enemies and protected them +against the oppression of their stronger neighbors. His strength +covered their weakness, and, inconsiderable in themselves, they +acquired weight and influence from their union with the Swedish hero. +This was the case with most of the free cities, and particularly with +the weaker Protestant states. It was these that introduced the king +into the heart of Germany; these covered his rear, supplied his troops +with necessaries, received them into their fortresses, while they +exposed their own lives in his battles. His prudent regard to their +national pride, his popular deportment, some brilliant acts of +justice, and his respect for the laws, were so many ties by which he +bound the German Protestants to his cause; while the crying atrocities +of the Imperialists, the Spaniards, and the troops of Lorraine, +powerfully contributed to set his own conduct and that of his army in +a favorable light. + +If Gustavus Adolphus owed his success chiefly to his own genius, at +the same time, it must be owned, he was greatly favored by fortune and +by circumstances. Two great advantages gave him a decided superiority +over the enemy. While he removed the scene of war into the lands of +the League, drew their youth as recruits, enriched himself with booty, +and used the revenues of their fugitive princes as his own, he at once +took from the enemy the means of effectual resistance and maintained +an expensive war with little cost to himself. And, moreover, while his +opponents, the princes of the League, divided among themselves, and +governed by different and often conflicting interests, acted without +unanimity, and therefore without energy; while their generals were +deficient in authority, their troops in obedience, the operations of +their scattered armies without concert; while the general was +separated from the lawgiver and the statesman--these several functions +were united in Gustavus Adolphus, the only source from which authority +flowed, the sole object to which the eye of the warrior turned, the +soul of his party, the inventor as well as the executor of his plans. +In him, therefore, the Protestants had a centre of unity and harmony, +which was altogether wanting to their opponents. No wonder, then, if +favored by such advantages, at the head of such an army, with such a +genius to direct it, and guided by such political prudence, Gustavus +Adolphus was irresistible. + +With the sword in one hand and mercy in the other, he traversed +Germany as a conqueror, a lawgiver, and a judge, in as short a time +almost as the tourist of pleasure. The keys of towns and fortresses +were delivered to him, as if to the native sovereign. No fortress was +inaccessible; no river checked his victorious career. He conquered by +the very terror of his name. The Swedish standards were planted along +the whole stream of the Main: the Lower Palatinate was free, the +troops of Spain and Lorraine had fled across the Rhine and the +Moselle. The Swedes and Hessians poured like a torrent into the +territories of Mentz, of Würtzburg, and Bamberg, and three fugitive +bishops, at a distance from their sees, suffered dearly for their +unfortunate attachment to the Emperor. It was now the turn for +Maximilian, the leader of the League, to feel in his own dominions the +miseries he had inflicted upon others. Neither the terrible fate of +his allies, nor the peaceful overtures of Gustavus, who, in the midst +of conquest, ever held out the hand of friendship, could conquer the +obstinacy of this prince. The torrent of war now poured into Bavaria. +Like the banks of the Rhine, those of the Lecke and the Donau were +crowded with Swedish troops. Creeping into his fortresses, the +defeated Elector abandoned to the ravages of the foe his dominions, +hitherto unscathed by war, and on which the bigoted violence of the +Bavarians seemed to invite retaliation. Munich itself opened its gates +to the invincible monarch, and the fugitive Palatine, Frederick V., in +the forsaken residence of his rival, consoled himself for a time for +the loss of his dominions. + +While Gustavus Adolphus was extending his conquests in the south, his +generals and allies were gaining similar triumphs in the other +provinces. Lower Saxony shook off the yoke of Austria, the enemy +abandoned Mecklenburg, and the imperial garrisons retired from the +banks of the Weser and the Elbe. In Westphalia and the Upper Rhine, +William, Landgrave of Hesse, rendered himself formidable; the Duke of +Weimar in Thuringia, and the French in the Electorate of Treves; while +to the eastward the whole kingdom of Bohemia was conquered by the +Saxons. The Turks were preparing to attack Hungary, and in the heart +of Austria a dangerous insurrection was threatened. In vain did the +Emperor look around to the courts of Europe for support; in vain did +he summon the Spaniards to his assistance, for the bravery of the +Flemings afforded them ample employment beyond the Rhine; in vain did +he call upon the Roman court and the whole church to come to his +rescue. The offended Pope sported, in pompous processions and idle +anathemas, with the embarrassments of Ferdinand, and instead of the +desired subsidy he was shown the devastation of Mantua. + +On all sides of his extensive monarchy hostile arms surrounded him. +With the states of the League, now overrun by the enemy, those +ramparts were thrown down, behind which Austria had so long defended +herself, and the embers of war were now smoldering upon her unguarded +frontiers tiers. His most zealous allies were disarmed; Maximilian of +Bavaria, his firmest support, was scarce able to defend himself. His +armies, weakened by desertion and repeated defeat, and dispirited by +continued misfortunes had unlearnt, under beaten generals, that +warlike impetuosity which, as it is the consequence, so it is the +guarantee of success. The danger was extreme, and extraordinary means +alone could raise the imperial power from the degradation into which +it was fallen. + +The most urgent want was that of a general; and the only one from whom +he could hope for the revival of his former splendor had been removed +from his command by an envious cabal. So low had the Emperor now +fallen that he was forced to make the most humiliating proposals to +his injured subject and servant, and meanly to press upon the +imperious Duke of Friedland the acceptance of the powers which no less +meanly had been taken from him. A new spirit began from this moment to +animate the expiring body of Austria; and a sudden change in the +aspect of affairs bespoke the firm hand which guided them. To the +absolute King of Sweden, a general equally absolute was now opposed; +and one victorious hero was confronted with another. Both armies were +again to engage in the doubtful struggle; and the prize of victory, +already almost secured in the hands of Gustavus Adolphus, was to be +the object of another and a severer trial. The storm of war gathered +around Nuremberg; before its walls the hostile armies encamped, gazing +on each other with dread and respect, longing for, and yet shrinking +from, the moment that was to close them together in the shock of +battle. The eyes of Europe turned to the scene in curiosity and alarm, +while Nuremberg, in dismay, expected soon to lend its name to a more +decisive battle than that of Leipzig. Suddenly the clouds broke, and +the storm rolled away from Franconia, to burst upon the plains of +Saxony. Near Lützen fell the thunder that had menaced Nuremberg; the +victory, half lost, was purchased by the death of the king. Fortune, +which had never forsaken him in his lifetime, favored the King of +Sweden even in his death, with the rare privilege of falling in the +fulness of his glory and an untarnished fame. By a timely death, his +protecting genius rescued him from the inevitable fate of man--that of +forgetting moderation in the intoxication of success, and justice in +the plenitude of power. It may be doubted whether, had he lived +longer, he would still have deserved the tears which Germany shed over +his grave, or maintained his title to the admiration with which +posterity regards him as the first and only _just_ conqueror that the +world has produced. The untimely fall of their great leader seemed to +threaten the ruin of his party; but to the Power which rules the +world, no loss of a single man is irreparable. As the helm of war +dropped from the hand of the falling hero, it was seized by two great +statesmen, Oxenstiern and Richelieu. Destiny still pursued its +relentless course, and for full sixteen years longer the flames of war +blazed over the ashes of the long-forgotten king and soldier. + +I may now be permitted to take a cursory retrospect of Gustavus +Adolphus in his victorious career; glance at the scene in which he +alone was the great actor; and then, when Austria becomes reduced to +extremity by the successes of the Swedes, and by a series of disasters +is driven to the most humiliating and desperate expedients, to return +to the history of the Emperor. + +As soon as the plan of operations had been concerted at Halle, between +the King of Sweden and the Elector of Saxony; as soon as the alliance +had been concluded with the neighboring princes of Weimar and Anhalt, +and preparations made for the recovery of the bishopric of Magdeburg, +the king began his march into the empire. He had here no despicable +foe to contend with. Within the empire, the Emperor was still +powerful; throughout Franconia, Swabia, and the Palatinate, imperial +garrisons were posted, with whom the possession of every place of +importance must be disputed sword in hand. On the Rhine he was opposed +by the Spaniards, who had overrun the territory of the banished +Elector Palatine, seized all its strong places, and would everywhere +dispute with him the passage over the river. In his rear was Tilly, +who was fast recruiting his force, and would soon be joined by the +auxiliaries from Lorraine. Every Papist presented an inveterate foe, +while his connection with France did not leave him at liberty to act +with freedom against the Roman Catholics. Gustavus had foreseen all +these obstacles, and at the same time the means by which they were to +be overcome. The strength of the Imperialists was broken and divided +among different garrisons, while he would bring against them one by +one his whole united force. If he was to be opposed by the fanaticism +of the Roman Catholics, and the awe in which the lesser states +regarded the Emperor's power, he might depend on the active support of +the Protestants, and their hatred to Austrian oppression. The ravages +of the Imperialists and Spanish troops also powerfully aided him in +these quarters where the ill-treated husbandman and citizen alike +sighed for a deliverer, and where the mere change of yoke seemed to +promise a relief. Emissaries were dispatched to gain over to the +Swedish side the principal free cities, particularly Nuremberg and +Frankfort. The first that lay in the king's march, and which he could +not leave unoccupied in his rear, was Erfurt. Here the Protestant +party among the citizens opened to him, without a blow, the gates of +the town and the citadel. From the inhabitants of this, as of every +important place which afterward submitted, he exacted an oath of +allegiance, while he secured its possession by a sufficient garrison. +To his ally, Duke William of Weimar, he intrusted the command of an +army to be raised in Thuringia. He also left his queen in Erfurt, and +promised to increase its privileges. The Swedish army now crossed the +Thuringian forest in two columns, by Gotha and Arnstadt, and having +delivered, in its march, the county of Henneberg from the +Imperialists, formed a junction on the third day near Koenigshofen, on +the frontiers of Franconia. + +Francis, Bishop of Würtzburg, the bitter enemy of the Protestants, and +the most zealous member of the League, was the first to feel the +indignation of Gustavus Adolphus. A few threats gained for the Swedes +possession of his fortress of Koenigshofen, and with it the key of +the whole province. At the news of this rapid conquest, dismay seized +all the Roman Catholic towns of the circle. The Bishops of Würtzburg +and Bamberg trembled in their castles; they already saw their sees +tottering, their churches profaned, and their religion degraded. The +malice of his enemies had circulated the most frightful +representations of the persecuting spirit and the mode of warfare +pursued by the Swedish king and his soldiers, which neither the +repeated assurances of the king, nor the most splendid examples of +humanity and toleration, ever entirely effaced. Many feared to suffer +at the hands of another what in similar circumstances they were +conscious of inflicting themselves. Many of the richest Roman +Catholics hastened to secure by flight their property, their religion, +and their persons, from the sanguinary fanaticism of the Swedes. The +bishop himself set the example. In the midst of the alarm, which his +bigoted zeal had caused, he abandoned his dominions, and fled to +Paris, to excite, if possible, the French ministry against the common +enemy of religion. + +The further progress of Gustavus Adolphus in the ecclesiastical +territories agreed with this brilliant commencement. Schweinfurt, and +soon afterward Würtzburg, abandoned by their Imperial garrisons, +surrendered; but Marienberg he was obliged to carry by storm. In this +place, which was believed to be impregnable, the enemy had collected a +large store of provisions and ammunition, all of which fell into the +hands of the Swedes. The king found a valuable prize in the library of +the Jesuits, which he sent to Upsal, while his soldiers found a still +more agreeable one in the prelate's well-filled cellars; his treasures +the bishop had in good time removed. The whole bishopric followed the +example of the capital, and submitted to the Swedes. The king +compelled all the bishop's subjects to swear allegiance to himself; +and, in the absence of the lawful sovereign, appointed a regency, +one-half of whose members were Protestants. In every Roman Catholic +town which Gustavus took, he opened the churches to the Protestant +people, but without retaliating on the Papists the cruelties which +they had practised on the former. On such only as sword in hand +refused to submit, were the fearful rights of war enforced; and for +the occasional acts of violence committed by a few of the more lawless +soldiers, in the blind rage of the first attack, their humane leader +is not justly responsible. Those who were peaceably disposed, or +defenceless, were treated with mildness. It was a sacred principle of +Gustavus to spare the blood of his enemies, as well as that of his own +troops. + +On the first news of the Swedish irruption, the Bishop of Würtzburg, +without regarding the treaty which he had entered into with the King +of Sweden, had earnestly pressed the general of the League to hasten +to the assistance of the bishopric. That defeated commander had, in +the meantime, collected on the Weser the shattered remnant of his +army, reinforced himself from the garrisons of Lower Saxony, and +effected a junction in Hesse with Altringer and Fugger, who commanded +under him. Again at the head of a considerable force, Tilly burned +with impatience to wipe out the stain of his first defeat by a +splendid victory. From his camp at Fulda, whither he had marched with +his army, he earnestly requested permission from the Duke of Bavaria +to give battle to Gustavus Adolphus. But, in the event of Tilly's +defeat, the League had no second army to fall back upon, and +Maximilian was too cautious to risk again the fate of his party on a +single battle. With tears in his eyes, Tilly read the commands of his +superior, which compelled him to inactivity. Thus his march to +Franconia was delayed, and Gustavus Adolphus gained time to overrun +the whole bishopric. It was in vain that Tilly, reinforced at +Aschaffenburg by a body of 12,000 men from Lorraine, marched with an +overwhelming force to the relief of Würtzburg. The town and citadel +were already in the hands of the Swedes, and Maximilian of Bavaria was +generally blamed (and not without cause, perhaps) for having, by his +scruples, occasioned the loss of the bishopric. Commanded to avoid a +battle, Tilly contented himself with checking the farther advance of +the enemy; but he could save only a few of the towns from the +impetuosity of the Swedes. Baffled in an attempt to reinforce the weak +garrison of Hanau, which it was highly important to the Swedes to +gain, he crossed the Main, near Seligenstadt, and took the direction +of the Bergstrasse, to protect the Palatinate from the conqueror. + +Tilly, however, was not the sole enemy whom Gustavus Adolphus met in +Franconia and drove before him. Charles, Duke of Lorraine, celebrated +in the annals of the time for his unsteadiness of character, his vain +projects, and his misfortunes, ventured to raise a weak arm against +the Swedish hero, in the hope of obtaining from the Emperor the +electoral dignity. Deaf to the suggestions of a rational policy, he +listened only to the dictates of heated ambition; by supporting the +Emperor he exasperated France, his formidable neighbor; and in the +pursuit of a visionary phantom in another country, left undefended his +own dominions, which were instantly overrun by a French army. Austria +willingly conceded to him, as well as to the other princes of the +League, the honor of being ruined in her cause. Intoxicated with vain +hopes, this prince collected a force of 17,000 men, which he proposed +to lead in person against the Swedes. If these troops were deficient +in discipline and courage, they were at least attractive by the +splendor of their accoutrements; and however sparing they were of +their prowess against the foe, they were liberal enough with it +against the defenceless citizens and peasantry whom they were summoned +to defend. Against the bravery and the formidable discipline of the +Swedes this splendidly attired army, however, made no long stand. On +the first advance of the Swedish cavalry a panic seized them, and they +were driven without difficulty from their cantonments in Würtzburg; +the defeat of a few regiments occasioned a general rout, and the +scattered remnant sought a covert from the Swedish valor in the towns +beyond the Rhine. Loaded with shame and ridicule, the duke hurried +home by Strasburg, too fortunate in escaping, by a submissive written +apology, the indignation of his conqueror, who had first beaten him +out of the field and then called upon him to account for his +hostilities. It is related upon this occasion that, in a village on +the Rhine a peasant struck the horse of the duke as he rode past, +exclaiming, "Haste, Sir, you must go quicker to escape the great King +of Sweden!" + +The example of his neighbors' misfortunes had taught the Bishop of +Bamberg prudence. To avert the plundering of his territories, he made +offers of peace, though these were intended only to delay the king's +course till the arrival of assistance. Gustavus Adolphus, too +honorable himself to suspect dishonesty in another, readily accepted +the bishop's proposals and named the conditions on which he was +willing to save his territories from hostile treatment. He was the +more inclined to peace, as he had no time to lose in the conquest of +Bamberg, and his other designs called him to the Rhine. The rapidity +with which he followed up these plans cost him the loss of those +pecuniary supplies which, by a longer residence in Franconia, he might +easily have extorted from the weak and terrified bishop. This artful +prelate broke off the negotiation the instant the storm of war passed +away from his own territories. No sooner had Gustavus marched onward +than he threw himself under the protection of Tilly, and received the +troops of the Emperor into the very towns and fortresses which shortly +before he had shown himself ready to open to the Swedes. By this +stratagem, however, he delayed only for a brief interval the ruin of +his bishopric. A Swedish general who had been left in Franconia, +undertook to punish the perfidy of the bishop; and the ecclesiastical +territory became the seat of war, and was ravaged alike by friends and +foes. + +The formidable presence of the Imperialists had hitherto been a check +upon the Franconian States; but their retreat, and the humane conduct +of the Swedish king, emboldened the nobility and other inhabitants of +this circle to declare in his favor. Nuremberg joyfully committed +itself to his protection; and the Franconian nobles were won to his +cause by flattering proclamations, in which he condescended to +apologize for his hostile appearance in their dominions. The fertility +of Franconia, and the rigorous honesty of the Swedish soldiers in +their dealings with the inhabitants, brought abundance to the camp of +the king. The high esteem which the nobility of the circle felt for +Gustavus, the respect and admiration with which they regarded his +brilliant exploits, the promises of rich booty which the service of +this monarch held out, greatly facilitated the recruiting of his +troops; a step which was made necessary by detaching so many garrisons +from the main body. At the sound of his drums, recruits flocked to his +standard from all quarters. + +The king had scarcely spent more time in conquering Franconia than he +would have required to cross it. He now left behind him Gustavus Horn, +one of his best generals, with a force of 8,000 men, to complete and +retain his conquest. He himself with his main army, reinforced by the +late recruits, hastened toward the Rhine in order to secure this +frontier of the empire from the Spaniards, to disarm the +ecclesiastical electors, and to obtain from their fertile territories +new resources for the prosecution of the war. Following the course of +the Main, he subjected, in the course of his march, Seligenstadt, +Aschaffenburg, Steinheim, the whole territory on both sides of the +river. The imperial garrisons seldom awaited his approach, and never +attempted resistance. In the meanwhile one of his colonels had been +fortunate enough to take by surprise the town and citadel of Hanau, +for whose preservation Tilly had shown such anxiety. Eager to be free +of the oppressive burden of the Imperialists, the Count of Hanau +gladly placed himself under the milder yoke of the King of Sweden. +Gustavus Adolphus now turned his whole attention to Frankfort, for it +was his constant maxim to cover his rear by the friendship and +possession of the more important towns. Frankfort was among the free +cities which, even from Saxony, he had endeavored to prepare for his +reception; and he now called upon it, by a summons from Offenbach, to +allow him free passage and to admit a Swedish garrison. Willingly +would this city have dispensed with the necessity of choosing between +the King of Sweden and the Emperor; for, whatever party they might +embrace, the inhabitants had a like reason to fear for their +privileges and trade. The Emperor's vengeance would certainly fall +heavily upon them, if they were in a hurry to submit to the King of +Sweden, and afterward he should prove unable to protect his adherents +in Germany. But still more ruinous for them would be the displeasure +of an irresistible conqueror, who, with a formidable army, was already +before their gates, and who might punish their opposition by the ruin +of their commerce and prosperity. In vain did their deputies plead the +danger which menaced their fairs, their privileges, perhaps their +constitution itself, if, by espousing the party of the Swedes, they +were to incur the Emperor's displeasure. Gustavus Adolphus expressed +to them his astonishment that, when the liberties of Germany and the +Protestant religion were at stake, the citizens of Frankfort should +talk of their annual fairs, and postpone for temporal interests the +great cause of their country and their conscience. He had, he +continued, in a menacing tone, found the keys of every town and +fortress, from the Isle of Rugen to the Main, and knew also where to +find a key to Frankfort; the safety of Germany, and the freedom of the +Protestant Church, were, he assured them, the sole objects of his +invasion; conscious of the justice of his cause, he was determined not +to allow any obstacle to impede his progress. "The inhabitants of +Frankfort, he was well aware, wished to stretch out only a finger to +him, but he must have the whole hand in order to have something to +grasp." At the head of the army, he closely followed the deputies as +they carried back his answer, and in order of battle awaited, near +Saxenhausen, the decision of the council. + +If Frankfort hesitated to submit to the Swedes, it was solely from +fear of the Emperor; their own inclinations did not allow them a +moment to doubt between the oppressor of Germany and its protector. +The menacing preparations amidst which Gustavus Adolphus now compelled +them to decide, would lessen the guilt of their revolt in the eyes of +the Emperor, and by an appearance of compulsion justify the step which +they willingly took. The gates were therefore opened to the King of +Sweden, who marched his army through this imperial town in magnificent +procession and in admirable order. A garrison of 600 men was left in +Saxenhausen; while the king himself advanced the same evening, with +the rest of his army, against the town of Höchst in Mentz, which +surrendered to him before night. + +While Gustavus was thus extending his conquests along the Main, +fortune crowned also the efforts of his generals and allies in the +north of Germany. Rostock, Wismar, and Doemitz, the only strong places +in the Duchy of Mecklenburg which still sighed under the yoke of the +Imperialists, were recovered by their legitimate sovereign, the Duke +John Albert, under the Swedish general, Achatius Tott. In vain did the +imperial general, Wolf Count von Mansfeld, endeavor to recover from +the Swedes the territories of Halberstadt, of which they had taken +possession immediately upon the victory of Leipzic; he was even +compelled to leave Magdeburg itself in their hands. The Swedish +general, Banner, who with 8,000 men remained upon the Elbe, closely +blockaded that city, and had defeated several imperial regiments which +had been sent to its relief. Count Mansfeld defended it in person with +great resolution; but his garrison being too weak to oppose for any +length of time the numerous force of the besiegers, he was already +about to surrender on conditions, when Pappenheim advanced to his +assistance, and gave employment elsewhere to the Swedish arms. +Magdeburg, however, or rather the wretched huts that peeped out +miserably from among the ruins of that once great town, was afterward +voluntarily abandoned by the Imperialists and immediately taken +possession of by the Swedes. + +Even Lower Saxony, encouraged by the progress of the king, ventured to +raise its head from the disasters of the unfortunate Danish war. They +held a congress at Hamburg, and resolved upon raising three regiments, +which they hoped would be sufficient to free them from the oppressive +garrisons of the Imperialists. The Bishop of Bremen, a relation of +Gustavus Adolphus, was not content even with this; but assembled +troops of his own, and terrified the unfortunate monks and priests of +the neighborhood, but was quickly compelled by the imperial general, +Count Gronsfeld, to lay down his arms. Even George, Duke of Lüneburg, +formerly a colonel in the Emperor's service, embraced the party of +Gustavus, for whom he raised several regiments, and by occupying the +attention of the Imperialists in Lower Saxony, materially assisted +him. + +But more important service was rendered to the king by the Landgrave +William of Hesse Cassel, whose victorious arms struck with terror the +greater part of Westphalia and Lower Saxony, the bishopric of Fulda, +and even the Electorate of Cologne. It has been already stated that +immediately after the conclusion of the alliance between the Landgrave +and Gustavus Adolphus at Werben, two imperial generals, Fugger and +Altringer, were ordered by Tilly to march into Hesse, to punish the +Landgrave for his revolt from the Emperor. But this prince had as +firmly withstood the arms of his enemies, as his subjects had the +proclamations of Tilly inciting them to rebellion, and the battle of +Leipzic presently relieved him of their presence. He availed himself +of their absence with courage and resolution; in a short time, Vach, +Müinden and Hoexter surrendered to him, while his rapid advance +alarmed the bishoprics of Fulda, Paderborn, and the ecclesiastical +territories which bordered on Hesse. The terrified states hastened by +a speedy submission to set limits to his progress, and by considerable +contributions to purchase exemption from plunder. After these +successful enterprises, the Landgrave united his victorious army with +that of Gustavus Adolphus, and concerted with him at Frankfort their +future plan of operations. + +In this city, a number of princes and ambassadors were assembled to +congratulate Gustavus on his success, and either to conciliate his +favor or to appease his indignation. Among them was the fugitive King +of Bohemia, the Palatine Frederick V., who had hastened from Holland +to throw himself into the arms of his avenger and protector. Gustavus +gave him the unprofitable honor of greeting him as a crowned head, and +endeavored, by a respectful sympathy, to soften his sense of his +misfortunes. But great as the advantages were, which Frederick had +promised himself from the power and good fortune of his protector; and +high as were the expectations he had built on his justice and +magnanimity, the chance of this unfortunate prince's reinstatement in +his kingdom was as distant as ever. The inactivity and contradictory +policies of the English court had abated the zeal of Gustavus +Adolphus, and an irritability which he could not always repress made +him on this occasion forget the glorious vocation of protector of the +oppressed, in which, on his invasion of Germany, he had so loudly +announced himself. + +The terrors of the king's irresistible strength, and the near prospect +of his vengeance, had also compelled George, Landgrave of Hesse +Darmstadt, to a timely submission. His connection with the Emperor, +and his indifference to the Protestant cause, were no secret to the +king, but he was satisfied with laughing at so impotent an enemy. As +the Landgrave knew his own strength and the political situation of +Germany so little as to offer himself as mediator between the +contending parties, Gustavus used jestingly to call him the +peacemaker. He was frequently heard to say, when at play he was +winning from the Landgrave, "that the money afforded double +satisfaction, as it was Imperial coin." To his affinity with the +Elector of Saxony, whom Gustavus had cause to treat with forbearance, +the Landgrave was indebted for the favorable terms he obtained from +the king, who contented himself with the surrender of his fortress of +Rüsselheim and his promise of observing a strict neutrality during the +war. The Counts of Westerwald and Wetterau also visited the king in +Frankfort, to offer him their assistance against the Spaniards, and to +conclude an alliance, which was afterward of great service to him. The +town of Frankfort itself had reason to rejoice at the presence of this +monarch, who took their commerce under his protection, and by the most +effectual measures restored the fairs, which had been greatly +interrupted by the war. + +The Swedish army was now reinforced by ten thousand Hessians, which +the Landgrave of Casse commanded. Gustavus Adolphus had already +invested Königstein; Kostheim and Flörsheim surrendered after a short +siege; he was in command of the Main; and transports were preparing +with all speed at Höchst to carry his troops across the Rhine. These +preparations filled the Elector of Mentz, Anselm Casimir, with +consternation; and he no longer doubted but that the storm of war +would next fall upon him. As a partisan of the Emperor, and one of the +most active members of the League, he could expect no better treatment +than his confederates, the Bishops of Würtzburg and Bamberg, had +already experienced. The situation of his territories upon the Rhine +made it necessary for the enemy to secure them, while their fertility +afforded an irresistible temptation to a necessitous army. +Miscalculating his own strength and that of his adversaries, the +Elector flattered himself that he was able to repel force by force, +and weary out the valor of the Swedes by the strength of his +fortresses. He ordered the fortifications of his capital to be +repaired with all diligence, provided it with every necessary for +sustaining a long siege, and received into the town a garrison of +2,000 Spaniards, under Don Philip de Sylva. To prevent the approach of +the Swedish transports, he endeavored to close the mouth of the Main +by driving piles and sinking large heaps of stones and vessels. He +himself, however, accompanied by the Bishop of Worms, and carrying +with him his most precious effects, took refuge in Cologne, and +abandoned his capital and territories to the rapacity of a tyrannical +garrison. But these preparations, which bespoke less of true courage +than of weak and overweening confidence, did not prevent the Swedes +from marching against Mentz and making serious preparations for an +attack upon the city. While one body of their troops poured into the +Rheingau, routed the Spaniards who remained there, and levied +contributions on the inhabitants, another laid the Roman Catholic +towns in Westerwald and Wetterau under similar contributions. The main +army had encamped at Cassel, opposite Mentz; and Bernhard, Duke of +Weimar, made himself master of the Mäusethurm and the Castle of +Ehrenfels, on the other side of the Rhine. Gustavus was now actively +preparing to cross the river and to blockade the town on the land +side, when the movements of Tilly in Franconia suddenly called him +from the siege, and obtained for the Elector a short repose. + +The danger of Nuremberg, which, during the absence of Gustavus +Adolphus on the Rhine, Tilly had made a show of besieging, and, in the +event of resistance, threatened with the cruel fate of Magdeburg, +occasioned the king suddenly to retire from before Mentz. Lest he +should expose himself a second time to the reproaches of Germany, and +the disgrace of abandoning a confederate city to a ferocious enemy, he +hastened to its relief by forced marches. On his arrival at Frankfort, +however, he heard of its spirited resistance, and of the retreat of +Tilly, and lost not a moment in prosecuting his designs against Mentz. +Failing in an attempt to cross the Rhine at Cassel, under the cannon +of the besieged, he directed his march toward the Bergstrasse, with a +view of approaching the town from an opposite quarter. Here he quickly +made himself master of all the places of importance, and at +Stockstadt, between Gernsheim and Oppenheim, appeared a second time +upon the banks of the Rhine. The whole of the Bergstrasse was +abandoned by the Spaniards, who endeavored obstinately to defend the +other bank of the river. For this purpose, they had burned or sunk all +the vessels in the neighborhood, and arranged a formidable force on +the banks, in case the king should attempt the passage at that place. + +On this occasion, the king's impetuosity exposed him to great danger +of falling into the hands of the enemy. In order to reconnoitre the +opposite bank, he crossed the river in a small boat; he had scarcely +landed when he was attacked by a party of Spanish horse, from whose +hands he saved himself only by a precipitate retreat. Having at last, +with the assistance of the neighboring fishermen, succeeded in +procuring a few transport, he dispatched two of them across the river, +bearing Count Brahe and 300 Swedes. Scarcely had this officer time to +intrench himself on the opposite bank, when he was attacked by 14 +squadrons of Spanish dragoons and cuirassiers. Superior as the enemy +was in numbers, Count Brahe, with his small force, bravely defended +himself, and gained time for the king to support him with fresh +troops. The Spaniards at last retired with the loss of 600 men, some +taking refuge in Oppenheim, and others in Mentz. A lion of marble on a +high pillar, holding a naked sword in his paw, and a helmet on his +head, was erected seventy years after the event, to point out to the +traveler the spot where the immortal monarch crossed the great river +of Germany. + +Gustavus Adolphus now conveyed his artillery and the greater part of +his troops over the river, and laid siege to Oppenheim, which, after a +brave resistance, was, on December 8, 1631, carried by storm. Five +hundred Spaniards, who had so courageously defended the place, fell +indiscriminately a sacrifice to the fury of the Swedes. The crossing +of the Rhine by Gustavus struck terror into the Spaniards and +Lorrainers, who had thought themselves protected by the river from the +vengeance of the Swedes. Rapid flight was now their only security; +every place incapable of an effectual defence was immediately +abandoned. After a long train of outrages on the defenceless citizens, +the troops of Lorraine evacuated Worms, which, before their departure, +they treated with wanton cruelty. The Spaniards hastened to shut +themselves up in Frankenthal, where they hoped to defy the victorious +arms of Gustavus Adolphus. + +The king lost no time in prosecuting his designs against Mentz, into +which the flower of the Spanish troops had thrown themselves. While he +advanced on the left bank of the Rhine, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel +moved forward on the other, reducing several strong places on his +march. The besieged Spaniards, though hemmed in on both sides, +displayed at first a bold determination, and threw, for several days, +a shower of bombs into the Swedish camp, which cost the king many of +his bravest soldiers. But notwithstanding, the Swedes continually +gained ground, and had at last advanced so close to the ditch that +they prepared seriously for storming the place. The courage of the +besieged now began to droop. They trembled before the furious +impetuosity of the Swedish soldiers, of which Marienberg, in +Würtzburg, had afforded so fearful an example. The same dreadful fate +awaited Mentz, if taken by storm; and the enemy might even be easily +tempted to revenge the carnage of Magdeburg on this rich and +magnificent residence of a Roman Catholic prince. To save the town, +rather than their own lives, the Spanish garrison capitulated on the +fourth day, and obtained from the magnanimity of Gustavus a safe +conduct to Luxemburg; the greater part of them, however, following the +example of many others, enlisted in the service of Sweden. + +On the 13th of December, 1631, the king made his entry into the +conquered town, and fixed his quarters in the palace of the Elector. +Eighty pieces of cannon fell into his hands, and the citizens were +obliged to redeem their property from pillage by a payment of 80,000 +florins. The benefits of this redemption did not extend to the Jews +and the clergy, who were obliged to make large and separate +contributions for themselves. The library of the Elector was seized by +the king as his share, and presented by him to his chancellor, +Oxenstiern, who intended it for the Academy of Westerrah, but the +vessel in which it was shipped to Sweden foundered at sea. + +After the loss of Mentz, misfortune still pursued the Spaniards on the +Rhine. Shortly before the capture of that city, the Landgrave of Hesse +Cassel had taken Falkenstein and Reifenberg, and the fortress of +Köningstein surrendered to the Hessians. The Rhinegrave, Otto Louis, +one of the king's generals, defeated nine Spanish squadrons who were +on their march for Frankenthal, and made himself master of the most +important towns upon the Rhine, from Boppart to Bacharach. After the +capture of the fortress of Braunfels, which was effected by the Count +of Wetterau, with the coöperation of the Swedes, the Spaniards quickly +lost every place in Wetterau, while in the Palatine they retained few +places besides Frankenthal. Landau and Kronweisenberg openly declared +for the Swedes; Spires offered troops for the king's service; Mannheim +was gained through the prudence of the Duke Bernard of Weimar and the +negligence of its governor, who, for this misconduct, was tried before +the council of war, at Heidelberg, and beheaded. + +The king had protracted the campaign into the depth of winter, and the +severity of the season was perhaps one cause of the advantage his +soldiers gained over those of the enemy. But the exhausted troops now +stood in need of the repose of winter quarters, which, after the +surrender of Mentz, Gustavus assigned to them in its neighborhood. He +himself employed the interval of inactivity in the field, which the +season of the year enjoined, in arranging, with his chancellor, the +affairs of his cabinet, in treating for a neutrality with some of his +enemies, and adjusting some political disputes which had sprung up +with a neighboring ally. He chose the city of Mentz for his winter +quarters, and the settlement of these state affairs, and showed a +greater partiality for this town than seemed consistent with the +interests of the German princes, or the shortness of his visit to the +Empire. Not content with strongly fortifying it, he erected at the +opposite angle which the Main forms with the Rhine, a new citadel, +which was named Gustavusburg from its founder, but which is better +known under the title of Pfaffenraub or Pfaffenzwang.[60] + +While Gustavus Adolphus made himself master of the Rhine, and +threatened the three neighboring electorates with his victorious arms, +his vigilant enemies in Paris and St. Germain's made use of every +artifice to deprive him of the support of France, and, if possible, to +involve him in a war with that power. By his sudden and equivocal +march to the Rhine, he had surprised his friends, and furnished his +enemies with the means of exciting a distrust of his intentions. After +the conquest of Würtzburg, and of the greater part of Franconia, the +road into Bavaria and Austria lay open to him through Bamberg and the +Upper Palatinate; and the expectation was as general, as it was +natural, that he would not delay to attack the Emperor and the Duke of +Bavaria in the very centre of their power, and, by the reduction of +his two principal enemies, bring the war immediately to an end. But to +the surprise of both parties, Gustavus left the path which general +expectation had thus marked out for him; and instead of advancing to +the right, turned to the left, to make the less important and more +innocent princes of the Rhine feel his power, while he gave time to +his more formidable opponents to recruit their strength. Nothing but +the paramount design of reinstating the unfortunate Palatine, +Frederick V., in the possession of his territories, by the expulsion +of the Spaniards, could seem to account for this strange step; and +the belief that Gustavus was about to effect that restoration silenced +for a while the suspicions of his friends and the calumnies of his +enemies. But the Lower Palatinate was now almost entirely cleared of +the enemy; and yet Gustavus continued to form new schemes of conquest +on the Rhine, and to withhold the reconquered country from the +Palatine, its rightful owner. In vain did the English ambassador +remind him of what justice demanded, and what his own solemn +engagement made a duty of honor; Gustavus replied to these demands +with bitter complaints of the inactivity of the English court, and +prepared to carry his victorious standard into Alsace, and even into +Lorraine. + +A distrust of the Swedish monarch was now loud and open, while the +malice of his enemies busily circulated the most injurious reports as +to his intentions. Richelieu, the minister of Louis XIII., had long +witnessed with anxiety the king's progress toward the French frontier, +and the suspicious temper of Louis rendered him but too accessible to +the evil surmises which the occasion gave rise to. France was at this +time involved in a civil war with her Protestant subjects, and the +fear was not altogether groundless that the approach of a victorious +monarch of their party might revive their drooping spirit, and +encourage them to a more desperate resistance. This might be the case, +even if Gustavus Adolphus was far from showing a disposition to +encourage them, or to act unfaithfully toward his ally, the King of +France. But the vindictive Bishop of Würtzburg, who was anxious to +avenge the loss of his dominions, the envenomed rhetoric of the +Jesuits and the active zeal of the Bavarian minister, represented this +dreaded alliance between the Huguenots and the Swedes as an undoubted +fact, and filled the timid mind of Louis with the most alarming fears. +Not merely chimerical politicians, but many of the best informed Roman +Catholics, fully believed that the king was on the point of breaking +into the heart of France, to make common cause with the Huguenots, and +to overturn the Catholic religion within the kingdom. Fanatical +zealots already saw him, with his army, crossing the Alps, and +dethroning the Vice-regent of Christ in Italy. Such reports no doubt +soon refute themselves; yet it cannot be denied that Gustavus, by his +manoeuvres on the Rhine, gave a dangerous handle to the malice of his +enemies, and in some measure justified the suspicion that he directed +his arms, not so much against the Emperor and the Duke of Bavaria, as +against the Roman Catholic religion itself. + +The general clamor of discontent which the Jesuits raised in all the +Catholic courts against the alliance between France and the enemy of +the church, at last compelled Cardinal Richelieu to take a decisive +step for the security of his religion, and at once to convince the +Roman Catholic world of the zeal of France, and of the selfish policy +of the ecclesiastical states of Germany. Convinced that the views of +the King of Sweden, like his own, aimed solely at the humiliation of +the power of Austria, he hesitated not to promise to the princes of +the League, on the part of Sweden, a complete neutrality, immediately +they abandoned their alliance with the Emperor and withdrew their +troops. Whatever the resolution these princes should adopt, Richelieu +would equally attain his object. By their separation from the Austrian +interest, Ferdinand would be exposed to the combined attack of France +and Sweden; and Gustavus Adolphus, freed from his other enemies in +Germany, would be able to direct his undivided force against the +hereditary dominions of Austria. In that event, the fall of Austria +was inevitable, and this great object of Richelieu's policy would be +gained without injury to the church. If, on the other hand, the +princes of the League persisted in their opposition and adhered to the +Austrian alliance, the result would indeed be more doubtful, but still +France would have sufficiently proved to all Europe the sincerity of +her attachment to the Catholic cause, and performed her duty as a +member of the Roman Church. The princes of the League would then +appear the sole authors of those evils, which the continuance of the +war would unavoidably bring upon the Roman Catholics of Germany; they +alone, by their wilful and obstinate adherence to the Emperor, would +frustrate the measures employed for their protection, involve the +church in danger, and themselves in ruin. + +Richelieu pursued this plan with greater zeal, the more he was +embarrassed by the repeated demands of the Elector of Bavaria for +assistance from France; for this prince, as already stated, when he +first began to entertain suspicion of the Emperor, entered immediately +into a secret alliance with France, by which, in the event of any +change in the Emperor's sentiments, he hoped to secure the possession +of the Palatinate. But though the origin of the treaty clearly showed +against what enemy it was directed, Maximilian now thought proper to +make use of it against the King of Sweden, and did not hesitate to +demand from France that assistance against her ally which she had +simply promised against Austria. Richelieu, embarrassed by this +conflicting alliance with two hostile powers, had no resource left but +to endeavor to put a speedy termination to their hostilities; and as +little inclined to sacrifice Bavaria, as he was disabled, by his +treaty with Sweden, from assisting it, he set himself, with all +diligence, to bring about a neutrality as the only means of fulfilling +his obligations to both. For this purpose, the Marquis of Breze was +sent, as his plenipotentiary, to the King of Sweden at Mentz, to learn +his sentiments on this point, and to procure from him favorable +conditions for the allied princes. But if Louis XIII. had powerful +motives for wishing for this neutrality, Gustavus Adolphus had as +grave reasons for desiring the contrary. Convinced by numerous proofs +that the hatred of the princes of the League to the Protestant +religion was invincible, their aversion to the foreign power of the +Swedes inextinguishable, and their attachment to the House of Austria +irrevocable, he apprehended less danger from their open hostility than +from a neutrality which was so little in unison with their real +inclinations; and, moreover, as he was constrained to carry on the war +in Germany at the expense of the enemy, he manifestly sustained great +loss if he diminished their number without increasing that of his +friends. It was not surprising, therefore, if Gustavus evinced little +inclination to purchase the neutrality of the League, by which he was +likely to gain so little, at the expense of the advantages he had +already obtained. + +The conditions, accordingly, upon which he offered to adopt the +neutrality toward Bavaria were severe, and suited to these views. He +required of the whole League a full and entire cessation from all +hostilities; the recall of their troops from the imperial army, from +the conquered towns, and from all the Protestant countries; the +reduction of their military force; the exclusion of the imperial +armies from their territories, and from supplies either of men, +provisions, or ammunition. Hard as the conditions were, which the +victor thus imposed upon the vanquished, the French mediator flattered +himself he should be able to induce the Elector of Bavaria to accept +them. In order to give time for an accommodation, Gustavus had agreed +to a cessation of hostilities for a fortnight. But at the very time +when this monarch was receiving from the French agents repeated +assurances of the favorable progress of the negotiation, an +intercepted letter from the Elector to Pappenheim, the imperial +general in Westphalia, revealed the perfidy of that prince, as having +no other object in view by the whole negotiation than to gain time for +his measures of defence. Far from intending to fetter his military +operations by a truce with Sweden, the artful prince hastened his +preparations, and employed the leisure which his enemy afforded him, +in making the most active dispositions for resistance. The negotiation +accordingly failed, and served only to increase the animosity of the +Bavarians and the Swedes. + +Tilly's augmented force, with which he threatened to overrun +Franconia, urgently required the king's presence in that circle; but +it was necessary to expel previously the Spaniards from the Rhine, and +to cut off their means of invading Germany from the Netherlands. With +this view, Gustavus Adolphus had made an offer of neutrality to the +Elector of Treves, Philip von Zeltern, on condition that the fortress +of Hermanstein should be delivered up to him, and a free passage +granted to his troops through Coblentz. But unwillingly as the Elector +had beheld the Spaniards within his territories, he was still less +disposed to commit his estates to the suspicious protection of a +heretic, and to make the Swedish conqueror master of his destinies. +Too weak to maintain his independence between two such powerful +competitors, he took refuge in the protection of France. With his +usual prudence, Richelieu profited by the embarrassments of this +prince to augment the power of France, and to gain for her an +important ally on the German frontier. A numerous French army was +dispatched to protect the territory of Treves, and a French garrison +was received into Ehrenbreitstein. But the object which had moved the +Elector to this bold step was not completely gained, for the offended +pride of Gustavus Adolphus was not appeased till he had obtained a +free passage for his troops through Treves. + +Pending these negotiations with Treves and France, the king's generals +had entirely cleared the territory of Mentz of the Spanish garrisons, +and Gustavus himself completed the conquest of this district by the +capture of Kreutznach. To protect these conquests, the chancellor +Oxenstiern was left with a division of the army upon the Middle Rhine, +while the main body, under the king himself, began its march against +the enemy in Franconia. + +The possession of this circle had, in the meantime, been disputed with +variable success between Count Tilly and the Swedish General Horn, +whom Gustavus had left there with 8,000 men; and the Bishopric of +Bamberg, in particular, was at once the prize and the scene of their +struggle. Called away to the Rhine by his other projects, the king had +left to his general the chastisement of the bishop, whose perfidy had +excited his indignation, and the activity of Horn justified the +choice. In a short time, he subdued the greater part of the bishopric; +and the capital itself, abandoned by its imperial garrison, was +carried by storm. The banished bishop urgently demanded assistance +from the Elector of Bavaria, who was at length persuaded to put an end +to Tilly's inactivity. Fully empowered by his master's order to +restore the bishop to his possessions, this general collected his +troops, who were scattered over the Upper Palatinate, and with an army +of 20,000 men advanced upon Bamberg. Firmly resolved to maintain his +conquest even against this overwhelming force, Horn awaited the enemy +within the walls of Bamberg; but was obliged to yield to the vanguard +of Tilly what he had thought to be able to dispute with his whole +army. A panic which suddenly seized his troops, and which no presence +of mind of their general could check, opened the gates to the enemy, +and it was with difficulty that the troops, baggage, and artillery +were saved. The reconquest of Bamberg was the fruit of this victory; +but Tilly, with all his activity, was unable to overtake the Swedish +general, who retired in good order behind the Main. The king's +appearance in Franconia, and his junction with Gustavus Horn at +Kitzingen, put a stop to Tilly's conquests, and compelled him to +provide for his own safety by a rapid retreat. + +The king made a general review of his troops at Aschaffenburg. After +his junction with Gustavus Horn, Banner, and Duke William of Weimar, +they amounted to nearly 40,000 men. His progress through Franconia was +uninterrupted; for Tilly, far too weak to encounter an enemy so +superior in numbers, had retreated, by rapid marches, toward the +Danube. Bohemia and Bavaria were now equally near to the king, and, +uncertain whither his victorious course might be directed, Maximilian +could form no immediate resolution. The choice, of the king, and the +fate of both provinces, now depended on the road that should be left +open to Count Tilly. It was dangerous, during the approach of so +formidable an enemy, to leave Bavaria undefended, in order to protect +Austria; still more dangerous, by receiving Tilly into Bavaria, to +draw thither the enemy also, and to render it the seat of a +destructive war. The cares of the sovereign finally overcame the +scruples of the statesman, and Tilly received orders, at all hazards, +to cover the frontiers of Bavaria with his army. + +Nuremberg received with triumphant joy the protector of the Protestant +religion and German freedom, and the enthusiasm of the citizens +expressed itself on his arrival in loud transports of admiration and +joy. Even Gustavus could not contain his astonishment, to see himself +in this city, which was the very centre of Germany, where he had never +expected to be able to penetrate. The noble appearance of his person +completed the impression produced by his glorious exploits, and the +condescension with which he received the congratulations of this free +city won all hearts. He now confirmed the alliance he had concluded +with it on the shores of the Baltic, and excited the citizens to +zealous activity and fraternal unity against the common enemy. After a +short stay in Nuremberg, he followed his army to the Danube, and +appeared unexpectedly before the frontier town of Donauwerth. A +numerous Bavarian garrison defended the place; and their commander, +Rodolph Maximilian, Duke of Saxe Lauenburg, showed at first a resolute +determination to defend it till the arrival of Tilly. But the vigor +with which Gustavus Adolphus prosecuted the siege soon compelled him +to take measures for a speedy and secure retreat, which amidst a +tremendous fire from the Swedish artillery he successfully executed. + +The conquest of Donauwerth opened to the king the further side of the +Danube, and now the small river Lech alone separated him from Bavaria. +The immediate danger of his dominions aroused all Maximilian's +activity; and however little he had hitherto disturbed the enemy's +progress to his frontier, he now determined to dispute as resolutely +the remainder of their course. On the opposite bank of the Lech, near +the small town of Rain, Tilly occupied a strongly fortified camp, +which, surrounded by three rivers, bade defiance to all attack. All +the bridges over the Lech were destroyed; the whole course of the +stream protected by strong garrisons as far as Augsburg; and that town +itself, which had long betrayed its impatience to follow the example +of Nuremberg and Frankfort, secured by a Bavarian garrison, and the +disarming of its inhabitants. The Elector himself, with all the troops +he could collect, threw himself into Tilly's camp, as if all his hopes +centred on this single point, and here the good fortune of the Swedes +was to suffer shipwreck forever. + +Gustavus Adolphus, after subduing the whole territory of Augsburg, on +his own side of the river, and opening to his troops a rich supply of +necessaries from that quarter, soon appeared on the bank opposite the +Bavarian intrenchments. It was now the month of March, when the river, +swollen by frequent rains and the melting of the snow from the +mountains of the Tyrol, flowed full and rapid between its steep banks. +Its boiling current threatened the rash assailants with certain +destruction, while from the opposite side the enemy's cannon showed +their murderous mouths. If, in despite of the fury both of fire and +water, they should accomplish this almost impossible passage, a fresh +and vigorous enemy awaited the exhausted troops in an impregnable +camp; and when they needed repose and refreshment they must prepare +for battle. With exhausted powers they must ascend the hostile +intrenchments, whose strength seemed to bid defiance to every assault. +A defeat sustained upon this shore would be attended with inevitable +destruction, since the same stream which impeded their advance would +also cut off their retreat, if fortune should abandon them. + +The Swedish council of war, which the king now assembled, strongly +urged upon him all these considerations, in order to deter him from +this dangerous undertaking. The most intrepid were appalled, and a +troop of honorable warriors, who had grown gray in the field, did not +hesitate to express their alarm. But the king's resolution was fixed. +"What!" said he to Gustavus Horn, who spoke for the rest, "have we +crossed the Baltic, and so many great rivers of Germany, and shall we +now be checked by a brook like the Lech?" Gustavus had already, at a +great personal risk, reconnoitred the whole country, and discovered +that his own side of the river was higher than the other, and +consequently gave a considerable advantage to the fire of the Swedish +artillery over that of the enemy. With great presence of mind he +determined to profit by this circumstance. At the point where the left +bank of the Lech forms an angle with the right, he immediately caused +three batteries to be erected, from which 72 field-pieces maintained a +cross fire upon the enemy. While this tremendous cannonade drove the +Bavarians from the opposite bank, he caused to be erected a bridge +over the river with all possible rapidity. A thick smoke, kept up by +burning wood and wet straw, concealed for some time the progress of +the work from the enemy, while the continued thunder of the cannon +overpowered the noise of the axes. He kept alive by his own example +the courage of his troops, and discharged more than 60 cannon with his +own hand. The cannonade was returned by the Bavarians with equal +vivacity for two hours, though with less effect, as the Swedish +batteries swept the lower opposite bank, while their height served as +a breast-work to their own troops. In vain, therefore, did the +Bavarians attempt to destroy these works; the superior fire of the +Swedes threw them into disorder, and the bridge was completed under +their very eyes. On this dreadful day, Tilly did everything in his +power to encourage his troops; and no danger could drive him from the +bank. At length he found the death which he sought--a cannon ball +shattered his leg; and Altringer, his brave companion-in-arms, was, +soon after, dangerously wounded in the head. Deprived of the animating +presence of their two generals, the Bavarians gave way at last, and +Maximilian, in spite of his own judgment, was driven to adopt a +pusillanimous resolve. Overcome by the persuasions of the dying +Tilly, whose wonted firmness was overpowered by the near approach of +death, he gave up his impregnable position for lost; and the discovery +by the Swedes of a ford, by which their cavalry were on the point of +passing, accelerated his inglorious retreat. The same night, before a +single soldier of the enemy had crossed the Lech, he broke up his +camp, and, without giving time for the king to harass him in his +march, retreated in good order to Neuburg and Ingolstadt. With +astonishment did Gustavus Adolphus, who completed the passage of the +river on the following day, behold the hostile camp abandoned: and the +Elector's flight surprised him still more, when he saw the strength of +the position he had quitted. "Had I been the Bavarian," said he, +"though a cannon ball had carried away my beard and chin, never would +I have abandoned a position like this, and laid open my territory to +my enemies." + +Bavaria now lay exposed to the conqueror; and, for the first time, the +tide of war, which had hitherto only beat against its frontier, now +flowed over its long spared and fertile fields. Before, however, the +king proceeded to the conquest of these provinces, he delivered the +town of Augsburg from the yoke of Bavaria; exacted an oath of +allegiance from the citizens; and to secure its observance, left a +garrison in the town. He then advanced, by rapid marches, against +Ingolstadt, in order, by the capture of this important fortress, which +the Elector covered with the greater part of his army, to secure his +conquest in Bavaria, and obtain a firm footing on the Danube. + +Shortly after the appearance of the Swedish King before Ingolstadt, +the wounded Tilly, after experiencing the caprice of unstable fortune, +terminated his career within the walls of that town. Conquered by the +superior generalship of Gustavus Adolphus, he lost, at the close of +his days, all the laurels of his earlier victories, and appeased, by a +series of misfortunes, the demands of justice, and the avenging manes +of Magdeburg. In his death, the Imperial army and that of the League +sustained an irreparable loss; the Roman Catholic religion was +deprived of its most zealous defender, and Maximilian of Bavaria of +the most faithful of his servants, who sealed his fidelity by his +death, and even in his dying moments fulfilled the duties of a +general. His last message to the Elector was an urgent advice to take +possession of Ratisbon, in order to maintain the command of the +Danube, and to keep open the communication with Bohemia. + +With the confidence which was the natural fruit of so many victories, +Gustavus Adolphus commenced the siege of Ingolstadt, hoping to gain +the town by the fury of his first assault. But the strength of its +fortifications, and the bravery of its garrison, presented obstacles +greater than any he had had to encounter since the battle of +Breitenfeld, and the walls of Ingolstadt were near putting an end to +his career. While reconnoitering the works, a 24-pounder killed his +horse under him, and he fell to the ground, while almost immediately +afterward another ball struck his favorite, the young Margrave of +Baden, by his side. With perfect self-possession the king rose, and +quieted the fears of his troops by immediately mounting another horse. + +The occupation of Ratisbon by the Bavarians, who, by the advice of +Tilly, had surprised this town by stratagem, and placed in it a strong +garrison, quickly changed the king's plan of operations. He had +flattered himself with the hope of gaining this town, which favored +the Protestant cause, and to find in it an ally as devoted to him as +Nuremberg, Augsburg, and Frankfort. Its seizure by the Bavarians +seemed to postpone for a long time the fulfilment of his favorite +project of making himself master of the Danube, and cutting off his +adversaries' supplies from Bohemia. He suddenly raised the siege of +Ingoldstadt, before which he had wasted both his time and his troops, +and penetrated into the interior of Bavaria, in order to draw the +Elector into that quarter for the defence of his territories, and thus +to strip the Danube of its defenders. + +The whole country, as far as Munich, now lay open to the conqueror. +Mosburg, Landshut, and the whole territory of Freysingen, submitted; +nothing could resist his arms. But if he met with no regular force to +oppose his progress, he had to contend against a still more implacable +enemy in the heart of every Bavarian--religious fanaticism. Soldiers +who did not believe in the Pope were, in this country, a new and +unheard-of phenomenon; the blind zeal of the priests represented them +to the peasantry as monsters, the children of hell, and their leader +as Antichrist. No wonder, then, if they thought themselves released +from all the ties of nature and humanity toward this brood of Satan, +and justified in committing the most savage atrocities upon them. Woe +to the Swedish soldier who fell into their hands! All the torments +which inventive malice could devise were exercised upon these unhappy +victims; and the sight of their mangled bodies exasperated the army to +a fearful retaliation. Gustavus Adolphus, alone, sullied the lustre of +his heroic character by no act of revenge; and the aversion which the +Bavarians felt toward his religion, far from making him depart from +the obligations of humanity toward that unfortunate people, seemed to +impose upon him the stricter duty to honor his religion by a more +constant clemency. + +The approach of the king spread terror and consternation in the +capital, which, stripped of its defenders, and abandoned by its +principal inhabitants, placed all its hopes in the magnanimity of the +conqueror. By an unconditional and voluntary surrender, it hoped to +disarm his vengeance, and sent deputies even to Freysingen to lay at +his feet the keys of the city. Strongly as the king might have been +tempted by the inhumanity of the Bavarians, and the hostility of their +sovereign, to make a dreadful use of the rights of victory; pressed as +he was by Germans to avenge the fate of Magdeburg on the capital of +its destroyer, this great prince scorned this mean revenge; and the +very helplessness of his enemies disarmed his severity. Contented with +the more noble triumph of conducting the Palatine Frederick with the +pomp of a victor into the very palace of the prince who had been the +chief instrument of his ruin and the usurper of his territories, he +heightened the brilliancy of his triumphal entry by the brighter +splendor of moderation and clemency. + +The king found in Munich only a forsaken palace, for the Elector's +treasures had been transported to Werfen. The magnificence of the +building astonished him; and he asked the guide who showed the +apartments, who was the architect. "No other," replied he, "than the +Elector himself."--"I wish," said the King, "I had this architect to +send to Stockholm." "That," he was answered, "the architect will take +care to prevent." When the arsenal was examined, they found nothing +but carriages, stripped of their cannon. The latter had been so +artfully concealed under the floor that no traces of them remained; +and but for the treachery of a workman, the deceit would not have been +detected. "Rise up from the dead," said the King, "and come to +judgment." The floor was pulled up, and 140 pieces of cannon +discovered, some of extraordinary calibre, which had been principally +taken in the Palatinate and Bohemia. A treasure of 30,000 gold ducats, +concealed in one of the largest, completed the pleasure which the King +received from this valuable acquisition. + +A far more welcome spectacle still would have been the Bavarian army +itself; for his march into the heart of Bavaria had been undertaken +chiefly with the view of luring them from their intrenchments. In this +expectation he was disappointed. No enemy appeared; no entreaties, +however urgent, on the part of his subjects, could induce the Elector +to risk the remainder of his army to the chances of a battle. Shut up +in Ratisbon, he awaited the reinforcements which Wallenstein was +bringing from Bohemia; and endeavored, in the meantime, to amuse his +enemy and keep him inactive, by reviving the negotiation for a +neutrality. But the King's distrust, too often and too justly excited +by his previous conduct, frustrated this design; and the intentional +delay of Wallenstein abandoned Bavaria to the Swedes. + +Thus far had Gustavus advanced from victory to victory, without +meeting with an enemy able to cope with him. A part of Bavaria and +Swabia, the Bishoprics of Franconia, the Lower Palatinate, and the +Archbishopric of Mentz, lay conquered in his rear. An uninterrupted +career of conquest had conducted him to the threshold of Austria; and +the most brilliant success had fully justified the plan of operations +which he had formed after the battle of Breitenfeld. If he had not +succeeded to his wish in promoting a confederacy among the Protestant +States, he had at least disarmed or weakened the League, carried on +the war chiefly at its expense, lessened the Emperor's resources, +emboldened the weaker States, and while he laid under contribution the +allies of the Emperor, forced a way through their territories into +Austria itself. Where arms were unavailing, the greatest service was +rendered by the friendship of the free cities, whose affections he had +gained, by the double ties of policy and religion; and, as long as he +should maintain his superiority in the field, he might reckon on every +thing from their zeal. By his conquests on the Rhine, the Spaniards +were cut off from the Lower Palatinate, even if the state of the war +in the Netherlands left them at liberty to interfere in the affairs of +Germany. The Duke of Lorraine, too, after his unfortunate campaign, +had been glad to adopt a neutrality. Even the numerous garrisons he +had left behind him, in his progress through Germany, had not +diminished his army; and, fresh and vigorous as when he first began +his march, he now stood in the centre of Bavaria, determined and +prepared to carry the war into the heart of Austria. + +While Gustavus Adolphus thus maintained his superiority within the +Empire, fortune, in another quarter, had been no less favorable to +his ally, the Elector of Saxony. By the arrangement concerted between +these princes at Halle, after the battle of Leipzig, the conquest of +Bohemia was intrusted to the Elector of Saxony, while the King +reserved for himself the attack upon the territories of the League. +The first fruits which the Elector reaped from the battle of +Breitenfeld was the reconquest of Leipzic, which was shortly followed +by the expulsion of the Austrian garrisons from the entire circle. +Reinforced by the troops who deserted to him from the hostile +garrisons, the Saxon General, Arnheim, marched toward Lusatia, which +had been overrun by an Imperial General, Rudolph von Tiefenbach, in +order to chastise the Elector for embracing the cause of the enemy. He +had already commenced in this weakly defended province the usual +course of devastation, taken several towns, and terrified Dresden +itself by his approach, when his destructive progress was suddenly +stopped by an express mandate from the Emperor to spare the +possessions of the King of Saxony. + +Ferdinand had perceived too late the errors of that policy which +reduced the Elector of Saxony to extremities and forcibly drove this +powerful monarch into an alliance with Sweden. By moderation, equally +ill-timed, he now wished to repair if possible the consequences of his +haughtiness; and thus committed a second error in endeavoring to +repair the first. To deprive his enemy of so powerful an ally, he had +opened, through the intervention of Spain, a negotiation with the +Elector; and in order to facilitate an accommodation, Tiefenbach was +ordered immediately to retire from Saxony. But these concessions of +the Emperor, far from producing the desired effect, only revealed to +the Elector the embarrassment of his adversary and his own importance, +and emboldened him the more to prosecute the advantages he had already +obtained. How could he, moreover, without becoming chargeable with the +most shameful ingratitude, abandon an ally to whom he had given the +most solemn assurances of fidelity, and to whom he was indebted for +the preservation of his dominions and even of his Electoral dignity? + +The Saxon army, now relieved from the necessity of marching into +Lusatia, advanced toward Bohemia, where a combination of favorable +circumstances seemed to insure them an easy victory. In his kingdom, +the first scene of this fatal war, the flames of dissension still +smoldered beneath the ashes, while the discontent of the inhabitants +was fomented by daily acts of oppression and tyranny. On every side, +this unfortunate country showed signs of a mournful change. Whole +districts had changed their proprietors, and groaned under the hated +yoke of Roman Catholic masters, whom the favor of the Emperor and the +Jesuits had enriched with the plunder and possessions of the exiled +Protestants. Others, taking advantage themselves of the general +distress, had purchased, at a low rate, the confiscated estates. The +blood of the most eminent champions of liberty had been shed upon the +scaffold; and such as by a timely flight avoided that fate, were +wandering in misery far from their native land, while the obsequious +slaves of despotism enjoyed their patrimony. Still more insupportable +than the oppression of these petty tyrants, was the restraint of +conscience which was imposed without distinction on all the +Protestants of that kingdom. No external danger, no opposition on the +part of the nation, however steadfast, not even the fearful lessons of +past experience, could check in the Jesuits the rage of proselytism; +where fair means were ineffectual, recourse was had to military force +to bring the deluded wanderers within the pale of the church. The +inhabitants of Joachimsthal, on the frontiers between Bohemia and +Meissen, were the chief sufferers from this violence. Two imperial +commissaries, accompanied by as many Jesuits and supported by fifteen +musketeers, made their appearance in this peaceful valley to preach +the gospel to the heretics. Where the rhetoric of the former was +ineffectual, the forcibly quartering the latter upon the houses, and +threats of banishment and fines were tried. But on this occasion, the +good cause prevailed, and the bold resistance of this small district +compelled the Emperor disgracefully to recall his mandate of +conversion. The example of the court had, however, afforded a +precedent to the Roman Catholics of the Empire, and seemed to justify +every act of oppression which their insolence tempted them to wreak +upon the Protestants. It is not surprising, then, if this persecuted +party was favorable to a revolution and saw with pleasure their +deliverers on the frontiers. + +The Saxon army was already on its march toward Prague; the imperial +garrisons everywhere retired before them. Schloeckenau, Tetschen, +Aussig, Leutmeritz, soon fell into the enemy's hands, and every Roman +Catholic place was abandoned to plunder. Consternation seized all the +Papists of the Empire; and conscious of the outrages which they +themselves had committed on the Protestants, they did not venture to +abide the vengeful arrival of a Protestant army. All the Roman +Catholics, who had anything to lose, fled hastily from the country to +the capital, which again they presently abandoned. Prague was +unprepared for an attack, and was too weakly garrisoned to sustain a +long siege. Too late had the Emperor resolved to despatch +Field-Marshal Tiefenbach to the defence of this capital. Before the +imperial orders could reach the head-quarters of that general, in +Silesia, the Saxons were already close to Prague, the Protestant +inhabitants of which showed little zeal, while the weakness of the +garrison left no room to hope a long resistance. In this fearful state +of embarrassment, the Roman Catholics of Prague looked for security to +Wallenstein, who now lived in that city as a private individual. But +far from lending his military experience, and the weight of his name, +toward its defence, he seized the favorable opportunity to satiate his +thirst for revenge. If he did not actually invite the Saxons to +Prague, at least his conduct facilitated its capture. Though +unprepared, the town might still hold out until succors could arrive; +and an imperial colonel, Count Maradas, showed serious intentions of +undertaking its defence. But without command and authority, and having +no support but his own zeal and courage, he did not dare to venture +upon such a step without the advice of a superior. He therefore +consulted the Duke of Friedland, whose approbation might supply the +want of authority from the Emperor and to whom the Bohemian generals +were referred by an express edict of the court in the last extremity. +He, however, artfully excused himself on the plea of holding no +official appointment and his long retirement from the political world; +while he weakened the resolution of the subalterns by the scruples +which he suggested and painted in the strongest colors. At last, to +render the consternation general and complete, he quitted the capital +with his whole court, however little he had to fear from its capture; +and the city was lost, because, by his departure, he showed that he +despaired of its safety. His example was followed by all the Roman +Catholic nobility, the generals with their troops, the clergy, and all +the officers of the crown. All night the people were employed in +saving their persons and effects. The roads to Vienna were crowded +with fugitives, who scarcely recovered from their consternation till +they reached the imperial city. Maradas himself, despairing of the +safety of Prague, followed the rest, and led his small detachment to +Tabor, where he awaited the event. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN VAN DYCK] + +Profound silence reigned in Prague, when the Saxons next morning +appeared before it; no preparations were made for defence; not a +single shot from the walls announced an intention of resistance. On +the contrary, a crowd of spectators from the town, allured by +curiosity, came flocking round to behold the foreign army; and the +peaceful confidence with which they advanced, resembled a friendly +salutation more than a hostile reception. From the concurrent reports +of these people, the Swedes learned that the town had been deserted by +the troops, and that the government had fled to Budweiss. This +unexpected and inexplicable absence of resistance excited Arnheim's +distrust the more, as the speedy approach of the Silesian succors was +no secret to him, and as he knew that the Saxon army was too +indifferently provided with materials for undertaking a siege and by +far too weak in numbers to attempt to take the place by storm. +Apprehensive of stratagem, he redoubled his vigilance; and he +continued in this conviction until Wallenstein's house-steward, whom +he discovered among the crowd, confirmed to him this intelligence. +"The town is ours without a blow!" exclaimed he in astonishment to his +officers, and immediately summoned it by a trumpeter. + +The citizens of Prague, thus shamefully abandoned by their defenders, +had long taken their resolution; all that they had to do was to secure +their properties and liberties by an advantageous capitulation. No +sooner was the treaty signed by the Saxon general, in his master's +name, than the gates were opened, without further opposition; and upon +the 11th of November, 1631, the army made their triumphal entry. The +Elector soon after followed in person, to receive the homage of those +whom he had newly taken under his protection; for it was only in the +character of protector that the three towns of Prague had surrendered +to him. Their allegiance to the Austrian monarchy was not to be +dissolved by the step they had taken. In proportion as the Papists' +apprehensions of reprisals on the part of the Protestants had been +exaggerated, so was their surprise great at the moderation of the +Elector and the discipline of his troops. Field-Marshal Arnheim +plainly evinced, on this occasion, his respect for Wallenstein. Not +content with sparing his estates on his march, he now placed guards +over his palace, in Prague, to prevent the plunder of any of his +effects. The Roman Catholics of the town were allowed the fullest +liberty of conscience; and of all the churches they had wrested from +the Protestants, four only were now taken back from them. From this +general indulgence none was excluded but the Jesuits, who were +generally considered as the authors of all past grievances and thus +banished the kingdom. + +John George belied not the submission and dependence with which the +terror of the imperial name inspired him; nor did he indulge at Prague +in a course of conduct which would assuredly have been pursued against +himself at Dresden by imperial generals, such as Tilly or Wallenstein. +He carefully distinguished between the enemy with whom he was at war, +and the head of the Empire, to whom he owed obedience. He did not +venture to touch the household furniture of the latter, while, without +scruple, he appropriated and transported to Dresden the cannon of the +former. He did not take up his residence in the imperial palace, but +in the house of Lichtenstein, being too modest to use the apartments +of one whom he had deprived of a kingdom. Had this trait been related +of a great man, and a hero, it would irresistibly excite our +admiration; but the character of this prince leaves us in doubt +whether such moderation ought to be ascribed to a noble self-command +or to the littleness of a weak mind which even good fortune could not +embolden and liberty itself could not strip of its habituated fetters. + +The surrender of Prague, which was quickly followed by that of most of +the other towns, effected a great and sudden change in Bohemia. Many +of the Protestant nobility, who had hitherto been wandering about in +misery, now returned to their native country; and Count Thurn, the +famous author of the Bohemian insurrection, enjoyed the triumph of +returning as a conqueror to the scene of his crime and his +condemnation. Over the very bridge where the heads of his adherents, +exposed to view, held out a fearful picture of the fate which had +threatened himself, he now made his triumphal entry; and to remove +these ghastly objects was his first care. The exiles again took +possession of their properties, without thinking of recompensing for +the purchase money the present possessors, who had mostly taken to +flight. Even though they had received a price for their estates, they +seized on everything which had once been their own; and many had +reason to rejoice at the economy of the late possessors. The lands and +cattle had greatly improved in their hands; the apartments were now +decorated with the most costly furniture; the cellars, which had been +left empty, were richly filled; the stables supplied; the magazines +stored with provisions. But distrusting the constancy of that good +fortune, which had so unexpectedly smiled upon them, they hastened to +get rid of these insecure possessions, and to convert their immovable +into transferable property. + +The presence of the Saxons inspired all the Protestants of the +kingdom with courage; and, both in the country and the capital, crowds +flocked to the newly opened Protestant churches. Many, whom fear alone +had retained in their adherence to Popery, now openly professed the +new doctrine; and many of the late converts to Roman Catholicism +gladly renounced a compulsory persuasion, to follow the earlier +conviction of their conscience. All the moderation of the new regency +could not restrain the manifestation of that just displeasure which +this persecuted people felt against their oppressors. They made a +fearful and cruel use of their newly recovered rights; and, in many +parts of the kingdom, their hatred of the religion which they had been +compelled to profess, could be satiated only by the blood of its +adherents. + +Meantime the succors which the imperial generals, Goetz and +Tiefenbach, were conducting from Silesia, had entered Bohemia, where +they were joined by some of Tilly's regiments from the Upper +Palatinate. In order to disperse them before they should receive any +further reinforcement, Arnheim advanced with part of his army from +Prague, and made a vigorous attack on their intrenchments near +Limburg, on the Elbe. After a severe action, not without great loss, +he drove the enemy from their fortified camp and forced them, by his +heavy fire, to recross the Elbe and to destroy the bridge which they +had built over that river. Nevertheless, the Imperialists obtained the +advantage in several skirmishes, and the Croats pushed their +incursions to the very gates of Prague. Brilliant and promising as the +opening of the Bohemian campaign had been, the issue by no means +satisfied the expectations of Gustavus Adolphus. Instead of vigorously +following up their advantages, by forcing a passage to the Swedish +army through the conquered country, and then, with it, attacking the +imperial power in its centre, the Saxons weakened themselves in a war +of skirmishes, in which they were not always successful, while they +lost the time which should have been devoted to greater undertakings. +But the Elector's subsequent conduct betrayed the motives which had +prevented him from pushing his advantage over the Emperor, and by +consistent measures promoting the plans of the King of Sweden. + +The Emperor had now lost the greater part of Bohemia, and the Saxons +were advancing against Austria, while the Swedish monarch was rapidly +moving to the same point through Franconia, Swabia, and Bavaria. A +long war had exhausted the strength of the Austrian monarchy, wasted +the country, and diminished its armies. The renown of its victories +was no more, as well as the confidence inspired by constant success; +its troops had lost the obedience and discipline to which those of the +Swedish monarch owed all their superiority in the field. The +confederates of the Emperor were disarmed, or their fidelity shaken by +the danger which threatened themselves. Even Maximilian of Bavaria, +Austria's most powerful ally, seemed disposed to yield to the +seductive proposition of neutrality; while his suspicious alliance +with France had long been a subject of apprehension to the Emperor. +The bishop of Würtzburg and Bamberg, the Elector of Mentz, and the +Duke of Lorraine, were either expelled from their territories or +threatened with immediate attack; Treves had placed itself under the +protection of France. The bravery of the Hollanders gave full +employment to the Spanish arms in the Netherlands; while Gustavus had +driven them from the Rhine. Poland was still fettered by the truce +which subsisted between that country and Sweden. The Hungarian +frontier was threatened by the Transylvania Prince, Ragotsky, a +successor of Bethlem Gabor and the inheritor of his restless mind; +while the Porte was making great preparation to profit by the +favorable conjuncture for aggression. Most of the Protestant states, +encouraged by their protector's success, were openly and actively +declaring against the Emperor. All the resources which had been +obtained by the violent and oppressive extortions of Tilly and +Wallenstein were exhausted; all these depôts, magazines, and +rallying-points were now lost to the Emperor; and the war could no +longer be carried on as before at the cost of others. To complete his +embarrassment, a dangerous insurrection broke out in the territory of +the Ens, where the ill-timed religious zeal of the government had +provoked the Protestants to resistance; and thus fanaticism lit its +torch within the empire, while a foreign enemy was already on its +frontier. After so long a continuance of good fortune, such brilliant +victories and extensive conquests, such fruitless effusion of blood, +the Emperor saw himself a second time on the brink of that abyss into +which he was so near falling at the commencement of his reign. If +Bavaria should embrace the neutrality; if Saxony should resist the +tempting offers he had held out; and France resolve to attack the +Spanish power at the same time in the Netherlands, in Italy and in +Catalonia, the ruin of Austria would be complete; the allied powers +would divide its spoils, and the political system of Germany would +undergo a total change. + +The chain of these disasters began with the battle of Breitenfeld, the +unfortunate issue of which plainly revealed the long decided decline +of the Austrian power, whose weakness had hitherto been concealed +under the dazzling glitter of a grand name. The chief cause of the +Swedes' superiority in the field was evidently to be ascribed to the +unlimited power of their leader, who concentrated in himself the whole +strength of his party; and, unfettered in his enterprises by any +higher authority, was complete master of every favorable opportunity, +could control all his means to the accomplishment of his ends, and was +responsible to none but himself. But since Wallenstein's dismissal and +Tilly's defeat, the very reverse of this course was pursued by the +Emperor and the League. The generals wanted authority over their +troops, and liberty of acting at their discretion; the soldiers were +deficient in discipline and obedience; the scattered corps, in +combined operation; the states, in attachment to the cause; the +leaders lacked harmony among themselves, quickness to resolve, and +firmness to execute. What gave the Emperor's enemy so decided an +advantage over him was not so much their superior power, as their +manner of using it. The League and the Emperor did not want means, but +a mind capable of directing them with energy and effect. Even had +Count Tilly not lost his old renown, distrust of Bavaria would not +have allowed the Emperor to place the fate of Austria in the hands of +one who had never concealed his attachment to the Bavarian Elector. +The urgent want which Ferdinand felt was for a general possessed of +sufficient experience to form and to command an army and willing at +the same time to dedicate his services, with blind devotion, to the +Austrian monarchy. + +This choice now occupied the attention of the Emperor's privy council +and divided the opinions of its members. In order to oppose one +monarch to another, and by the presence of their sovereign to animate +the courage of the troops, Ferdinand, in the ardor of the moment, had +offered himself to be the leader of his army; but little trouble was +required to overturn a resolution which was the offspring of despair +alone, and which yielded at once to calm reflection. But the situation +which his dignity, and the duties of administration, prevented the +Emperor from holding, might be filled by his son, a youth of talents +and bravery, and of whom the subjects of Austria had already formed +great expectations. Called by his birth to the defence of a monarchy, +of whose crowns he wore two already, Ferdinand III., King of Hungary +and Bohemia, united, with the natural dignity of heir to the throne, +the respect of the army, and the attachment of the people, whose +coöperation was indispensable to him in the conduct of the war. None +but the beloved heir to the crown could venture to impose new burdens +on a people already severely oppressed; his personal presence with the +army could alone suppress the pernicious jealousies of the several +leaders, and by the influence of his name restore the neglected +discipline of the troops to its former vigor. If so young a leader was +devoid of the maturity of judgment, prudence, and military experience +which practice alone could impart, this deficiency might be supplied +by a judicious choice of counsellors and assistants, who, under the +cover of his name, might be vested with supreme authority. + +But plausible as were the arguments with which a part of the ministry +supported this plan, it was met by difficulties not less serious, +arising from the distrust, perhaps even the jealousy, of the Emperor, +and also from the desperate state of affairs. How dangerous was it to +intrust the fate of the monarchy to a youth who was himself in need of +counsel and support! How hazardous to oppose to the greatest general +of his age, a tyro, whose fitness for so important a post had never +yet been tested by experience; whose name, as yet unknown to fame, was +far too powerless to inspire a dispirited army with the assurance of +future victory! What a new burden on the country to support the state +a royal leader was required to maintain, and which the prejudices of +the age considered as inseparable from his presence with the army! How +serious a consideration for the prince himself, to commence his +political career with an office which must make him the scourge of his +people and the oppressor of the territories which he was hereafter to +rule. + +But not only was a general to be found for the army; an army must also +be found for the general. Since the compulsory resignation of +Wallenstein, the Emperor had defended himself more by the assistance +of Bavaria and the League, than by his own armies; and it was this +dependence on equivocal allies, which he was endeavoring to escape, by +the appointment of a general of his own. But what possibility was +there of raising an army out of nothing, without the all-powerful aid +of gold and the inspiriting name of a victorious commander; above all, +an army which, by its discipline, warlike spirit, and activity, should +be fit to cope with the experienced troops of the northern conqueror? +In all Europe, there was but one man equal to this, and that one had +been mortally affronted. + +The moment had at last arrived when more than ordinary satisfaction +was to be done to the wounded pride of the Duke of Friedland. Fate +itself had been his avenger, and an unbroken chain of disasters, which +had assailed Austria from the day of his dismissal, had wrung from the +Emperor the humiliating confession that with this general he had lost +his right arm. Every defeat of his troops opened afresh this wound; +every town which he lost revived in the mind of the deceived monarch +the memory of his own weakness and ingratitude. It would have been +well for him, if, in the offended general, he had only lost a leader +of his troops, and a defender of his dominions; but he was destined to +find in him an enemy, and the most dangerous of all, since he was +least armed against the stroke of treason. Removed from the theatre of +war and condemned to irksome inaction, while his rivals gathered +laurels on the field of glory, the haughty duke had beheld these +changes of fortune with affected composure, and concealed, under a +glittering and theatrical pomp, the dark designs of his restless +genius. Torn by burning passions within, while all without bespoke +calmness and indifference, he brooded over projects of ambition and +revenge, and slowly, but surely, advanced toward his end. All that he +owed to the Emperor was effaced from his mind; what he himself had +done for the Emperor was imprinted in burning characters on his +memory. To his insatiable thirst for power, the Emperor's ingratitude +was welcome, as it seemed to tear in pieces the record of past favors, +to absolve him from every obligation toward his former benefactor. In +the disguise of a righteous retaliation, the projects dictated by his +ambition now appeared to him just and pure. In proportion as the +external circle of his operations was narrowed, the world of hope +expanded before him, and his dreamy imagination revelled in boundless +projects, which, in any mind but such as his, madness alone could +have given birth to. His services had raised him to the proudest +height which it was possible for a man, by his own efforts, to attain. +Fortune had denied him nothing which the subject and the citizen could +lawfully enjoy. Till the moment of his dismissal, his demands had met +with no refusal, his ambition had met with no check; but the blow +which, at the diet of Ratisbon, humbled him, showed him the difference +between _original_ and _deputed_ power, the distance between the +subject and his sovereign. Roused from the intoxication of his own +greatness by this sudden reverse of fortune, he compared the authority +which he had possessed with that which had deprived him of it; and his +ambition marked the steps which it had yet to surmount upon the ladder +of fortune. From the moment when he had so bitterly experienced the +weight of sovereign power, his efforts were directed to attain it for +himself; the wrong which he himself had suffered made him a robber. +Had he not been outraged by injustice, he might have obediently moved +in his orbit round the majesty of the throne, satisfied with the glory +of being the brightest of its satellites. It was only when violently +forced from its sphere, that his wandering star threw in disorder the +system to which it belonged, and came in destructive collision with +its sun. + +Gustavus Adolphus had overrun the north of Germany; one place after +another was lost; and at Leipzic the flower of the Austrian army had +fallen. The intelligence of this defeat soon reached the ears of +Wallenstein, who, in the retired obscurity of a private station in +Prague, contemplated from a calm distance the tumult of war. The news, +which filled the breasts of the Roman Catholics with dismay, announced +to him the return of greatness and good fortune. For him was Gustavus +Adolphus laboring. Scarcely had the king begun to gain reputation by +his exploits, when Wallenstein lost not a moment to court his +friendship and to make common cause with this successful enemy of +Austria. The banished Count Thurn, who had long entered the service +of Sweden, undertook to convey Wallenstein's congratulations to the +king, and to invite him to a close alliance with the duke. Wallenstein +required 15,000 men from the king; and with these, and the troops he +himself engaged to raise, he undertook to conquer Bohemia and Moravia, +to surprise Vienna, and drive his master, the Emperor, before him into +Italy. Welcome as was this unexpected proposition, its extravagant +promises were naturally calculated to excite suspicion. Gustavus +Adolphus was too good a judge of merit to reject with coldness the +offers of one who might be so important a friend. But when +Wallenstein, encouraged by the favorable reception of his first +message, renewed it after the battle of Breitenfeld, and pressed for a +decisive answer, the prudent monarch hesitated to trust his reputation +to the chimerical projects of so daring an adventurer and to commit so +large a force to the honesty of a man who felt no shame in openly +avowing himself a traitor. He excused himself, therefore, on the plea +of the weakness of his army which, if diminished by so large a +detachment, would certainly suffer in its march through the empire; +and thus, perhaps, by excess of caution, lost an opportunity of +putting an immediate end to the war. He afterward endeavored to renew +the negotiation; but the favorable moment was past, and Wallenstein's +offended pride never forgave the first neglect. + +But the king's hesitation, perhaps, only accelerated the breach, which +their characters made inevitable sooner or later. Both framed by +nature to give laws, not to receive them, they could not long have +coöperated in an enterprise which eminently demanded mutual submission +and sacrifice. Wallenstein was _nothing_ where he was not +_everything_; he must either act with unlimited power, or not at +all. So cordially, too, did Gustavus dislike control that he had +almost renounced his advantageous alliance with France, because it +threatened to fetter his own independent judgment. Wallenstein was +lost to a party, if he could not lead; the latter was, if possible, +still less disposed to obey the instructions of another. If the +pretensions of a rival would be so irksome to the Duke of Friedland, +in the conduct of combined operations, in the division of the spoil +they would be insupportable. The proud monarch might condescend to +accept the assistance of a rebellious subject against the Emperor, and +to reward his valuable services with regal munificence; but he never +could so far lose sight of his own dignity, and the majesty of +royalty, as to bestow the recompense which the extravagant ambition of +Wallenstein demanded, and requite an act of treason, however useful, +with a crown. In him, therefore, even if all Europe should tacitly +acquiesce, Wallenstein had reason to expect the most decided and +formidable opponent to his views on the Bohemian crown; and in all +Europe he was the only one who could enforce his opposition. +Constituted Dictator in Germany by Wallenstein himself, he might turn +his arms against him, and consider himself bound by no obligations to +one who was himself a traitor. There was no room for a Wallenstein +under such an ally; and it was, apparently, this conviction, and not +any supposed designs upon the imperial throne, that he alluded to, +when, after the death of the King of Sweden, he exclaimed, "It is well +for him and me that he is gone! The German Empire does not require two +such leaders." + +His first scheme of revenge on the house of Austria had indeed failed; +but the purpose itself remained unalterable; the choice of means alone +was changed. What he had failed in effecting with the King of Sweden, +he hoped to obtain with less difficulty and more advantage from the +Elector of Saxony. Him he was as certain of being able to bend to his +views as he had always been doubtful of Gustavus Adolphus. Having +always maintained a good understanding with his old friend Arnheim, he +now made use of him to bring about an alliance with Saxony, by which +he hoped to render himself equally formidable to the Emperor and the +King of Sweden. He had reason to expect that a scheme, which, if +successful, would deprive the Swedish monarch of his influence in +Germany, would be welcomed by the Elector of Saxony, who he knew was +jealous of the power and offended at the lofty pretensions of Gustavus +Adolphus. If he succeeded in separating Saxony from the Swedish +alliance and in establishing, conjointly with that power, a third +party in the Empire, the fate of the war would be placed in his hand; +and by this single step he would succeed in gratifying his revenge +against the Emperor, revenging the neglect of the Swedish monarch, and +on the ruin of both raising the edifice of his own greatness. + +But whatever course he might follow in the prosecution of his designs, +he could not carry them into effect without an army entirely devoted +to him. Such a force could not be secretly raised without its coming +to the knowledge of the imperial court, where it would naturally +excite suspicion and thus frustrate his design in the very outset. +From the army, too, the rebellious purposes for which it was destined +must be concealed till the very moment of execution, since it could +scarcely be expected that they would at once be prepared to listen to +the voice of a traitor and serve against their legitimate sovereign. +Wallenstein, therefore, must raise it publicly and in the name of the +Emperor, and be placed at its head, with unlimited authority, by the +Emperor himself. But how could this be accomplished otherwise than by +his being appointed to the command of the army and intrusted with full +powers to conduct the war? Yet neither his pride nor his interest +permitted him to sue in person for this post and as a suppliant to +accept from the favor of the Emperor a limited power, when an +unlimited authority might be extorted from his fears. In order to make +himself the master of the terms on which he would resume the command +of the army, his course was to wait until the post should be forced +upon him. This was the advice he received from Arnheim, and this the +end for which he labored with profound policy and restless activity. + +Convinced that extreme necessity would alone conquer the Emperor's +irresolution and render powerless the opposition of his bitter +enemies, Bavaria and Spain, he henceforth occupied himself in +promoting the success of the enemy and in increasing the +embarrassments of his master. It was apparently by his instigation and +advice that the Saxons, when on the route to Lusatia and Silesia, had +turned their march toward Bohemia and overrun that defenceless +kingdom, where their rapid conquests were partly the result of his +measures. By the fears which he affected to entertain he paralyzed +every effort at resistance; and his precipitate retreat caused the +delivery of the capital to the enemy. At a conference with the Saxon +general, which was held at Kaunitz under the pretext of negotiating +for a peace, the seal was put to the conspiracy, and the conquest of +Bohemia was the first fruits of this mutual understanding. While +Wallenstein was thus personally endeavoring to heighten the +perplexities of Austria, and while the rapid movements of the Swedes +upon the Rhine effectually promoted his designs, his friends and +bribed adherents in Vienna uttered loud complaints of the public +calamities and represented the dismissal of the general as the sole +cause of all these misfortunes. "Had Wallenstein commanded, matters +would never have come to this," exclaimed a thousand voices; while +their opinions found supporters, even in the Emperor's privy council. + +Their repeated remonstrances were not needed to convince the +embarrassed Emperor of his general's merits and of his own error. His +dependence on Bavaria and the League had soon become insupportable; +but hitherto this dependence permitted him not to show his distrust, +or irritate the Elector by the recall of Wallenstein. But now when his +necessities grew every day more pressing, and the weakness of Bavaria +more apparent, he could no longer hesitate to listen to friends of the +duke, and to consider their overtures for his restoration to command. +The immense riches Wallenstein possessed, the universal reputation he +enjoyed, the rapidity with which six years before he had assembled an +army of 40,000 men, the little expense at which he had maintained this +formidable force, the actions he had performed at its head, and +lastly, the zeal and fidelity he had displayed for his master's honor, +still lived in the Emperor's recollection and made Wallenstein seem to +him the ablest instrument to restore the balance between the +belligerent powers, to save Austria, and preserve the Catholic +religion. However sensibly the imperial pride might feel the +humiliation, in being forced to make so unequivocal an admission of +past errors and present necessity; however painful it was to descend +to humble entreaties, from the height of imperial command; however +doubtful the fidelity of so deeply injured and implacable a character; +however loudly and urgently the Spanish minister and the Elector of +Bavaria protested against this step, the immediate pressure of +necessity finally overcame every other consideration, and the friends +of the duke were empowered to consult him on the subject and to hold +out the prospect of his restoration. + +Informed of all that was transacted in the Emperor's cabinet to his +advantage, Wallenstein possessed sufficient self-command to conceal +his inward triumph and to assume the mask of indifference. The moment +of vengeance was at last come, and his proud heart exulted in the +prospect of repaying with interest the injuries of the Emperor. With +artful eloquence, he expatiated upon the happy tranquillity of a +private station, which had blessed him since his retirement from a +political stage. Too long, he said, had he tasted the pleasures of +ease and independence, to sacrifice to the vain phantom of glory the +uncertain favor of princes. All his desire of power and distinction +were extinct: tranquillity and repose were now the sole object of his +wishes. The better to conceal his real impatience, he declined the +Emperor's invitation to the court, but at the same time, to facilitate +the negotiations, came to Znaim in Moravia. + +At first, it was proposed to limit the authority to be intrusted to +him, by the presence of a superior, in order, by this expedient, to +silence the objections of the Elector of Bavaria. The imperial +deputies, Questenberg and Werdenberg, who, as old friends of the duke, +had been employed in this delicate mission, were instructed to propose +that the King of Hungary should remain with the army and learn the art +of war under Wallenstein. But the very mention of his name threatened +to put a period to the whole negotiation. "No! never," exclaimed +Wallenstein, "will I submit to a colleague in my office. No--not even +if it were God himself with whom I should have to share my command." +But even when this obnoxious point was given up, Prince Eggenberg, the +Emperor's minister and favorite, who had always been the steady friend +and zealous champion of Wallenstein and was therefore expressly sent +to him, exhausted his eloquence in vain to overcome the pretended +reluctance of the duke. "The Emperor," he admitted, "had, in +Wallenstein, thrown away the most costly jewel in his crown: but +unwillingly and compulsorily only had he taken this step, which he had +since deeply repented of; while his esteem for the duke had remained +unaltered, his favor for him undiminished. Of these sentiments he now +gave the most decisive proof, by reposing unlimited confidence in his +fidelity and capacity to repair the mistakes of his predecessors and +to change the whole aspect of affairs. It would be great and noble to +sacrifice his just indignation to the good of his country; dignified +and worthy of him to refute the evil calumny of his enemies by the +double warmth of his zeal. This victory over himself," concluded the +prince, "would crown his other unparalleled services to the Empire and +render him the greatest man of his age." + +These humiliating confessions and flattering assurances seemed at last +to disarm the anger of the duke; but not before he had disburdened his +heart of his reproaches against the Emperor, pompously dwelt upon his +own services, and humbled to the utmost the monarch who solicited his +assistance, did he condescend to listen to the attractive proposals of +the minister. As if he yielded entirely to the force of their +arguments, he condescended with a haughty reluctance to that which was +the most ardent wish of his heart and deigned to favor the ambassadors +with a ray of hope. But far from putting an end to the Emperor's +embarrassments, by giving at once a full and unconditional consent, he +only acceded to a part of his demands, that he might exalt the value +of that which still remained, and was of most importance. He accepted +the command, but only for three months; merely for the purpose of +raising, but not of leading, an army. He wished only to show his power +and ability in its organization, and to display before the eyes of the +Emperor the greatness of that assistance which he still retained in +his hands. Convinced that an army raised by his name alone would, if +deprived of its creator, soon sink again into nothing, he intended it +to serve only as a decoy to draw more important concessions from his +master. And yet Ferdinand congratulated himself, even in having gained +so much as he had. + +Wallenstein did not long delay to fulfil those promises which all +Germany regarded as chimerical, and which Gustavus Adolphus had +considered as extravagant. But the foundation for the present +enterprise had long been laid, and he only put in motion the machinery +which for many years had been prepared for the purpose. Scarcely had +the news spread of Wallenstein's levies, when, from every quarter of +the Austrian monarchy, crowds of soldiers repaired to try their +fortunes under this experienced general. Many, who had before fought +under his standards, had been admiring eye-witnesses of his great +actions and experienced his magnanimity, came forward from their +retirement to share with him a second time both booty and glory. The +greatness of the pay he promised attracted thousands, and the +plentiful supplies the soldier was likely to enjoy at the cost of the +peasant was to the latter an irresistible inducement to embrace the +military life at once, rather than be the victim of its oppression. +All the Austrian provinces were compelled to assist in the equipment. +No class was exempt from taxation--no dignity or privilege from +capitation. The Spanish court, as well as the King of Hungary, agreed +to contribute a considerable sum. The ministers made large presents, +while Wallenstein himself advanced $200,000 from his personal income +to hasten the armament. The poorer officers he supported out of his +own revenues; and, by his own example, by brilliant promotions and +still more brilliant promises, he induced all, who were able, to raise +troops at their own expense. Whoever raised a corps at his own cost +was to be its commander. In the appointment of officers, religion made +no difference. Riches, bravery, and experience were more regarded than +creed. By this uniform treatment of different religious sects, and +still more by his express declaration that his present levy had +nothing to do with religion, the Protestant subjects of the Empire +were tranquilized and reconciled to bear their share of the public +burdens. The duke, at the same time, did not omit to treat, in his own +name, with foreign states for men and money. He prevailed on the Duke +of Lorraine, a second time, to espouse the cause of the Emperor. +Poland was urged to supply him with Cossacks, and Italy with warlike +necessaries. Before the three months were expired, the army which was +assembled in Moravia, amounted to no less than 40,000 men, chiefly +drawn from the unconquered parts of Bohemia, from Moravia, Silesia, +and the German provinces of the House of Austria. What to every one +had appeared impracticable, Wallenstein, to the astonishment of all +Europe, had in a short time effected. The charm of his name, his +treasures, and his genius, had assembled thousands in arms, where +before Austria had only looked for hundreds. Furnished, even to +superfluity, with all necessaries, commanded by experienced officers, +and inflamed by enthusiasm which assured itself of victory, this newly +created army only awaited the signal of their leader to show +themselves, by the bravery of their deeds, worthy of his choice. The +duke had fulfilled his promise, and the troops were ready to take the +field; he then retired and left to the Emperor to choose a commander. +But it would have been as easy to raise a second army like the first +as to find any other commander for it than Wallenstein. This promising +army, the last hope of the Emperor, was nothing but an illusion, as +soon as the charm was dissolved which had called it into existence; by +Wallenstein it had been raised, and, without him, it sank like a +creation of magic into its original nothingness. Its officers were +either bound to him as his debtors, or, as his creditors, closely +connected with his interests and the preservation of his power. The +regiments he had intrusted to his own relations, creatures, and +favorites. He, and he alone, could discharge to the troops the +extravagant promises by which they had been lured into his service. +His pledged word was the only security on which their bold +expectations rested; a blind reliance on his omnipotence, the only tie +which linked together in one common life and soul the various impulses +of their zeal. There was an end of the good fortune of each +individual, if he retired who alone was the voucher of its fulfilment. + +However little Wallenstein was serious in his refusal, he successfully +employed this means to terrify the Emperor into consenting to his +extravagant conditions. The progress of the enemy every day increased +the pressure of the Emperor's difficulties, while the remedy was also +close at hand; a word from him might terminate the general +embarrassment. Prince Eggenberg at length received orders, for the +third and last time, at any cost and sacrifice, to induce his friend, +Wallenstein, to accept the command. + +He found him at Znaim in Moravia, pompously surrounded by the troops, +the possession of which he made the Emperor so earnestly to long for. +As a suppliant did the haughty subject receive the deputy of his +sovereign. "He never could trust," he said, "to a restoration to +command, which he owned to the Emperor's necessities and not to his +sense of justice. He was now courted, because the danger had reached +its height and safety was hoped for from his arm only; but his +successful services would soon cause the servant to be forgotten, and +the return of security would bring back renewed ingratitude. If he +deceived the expectations formed of him, his long earned renown would +be forfeited; even if he fulfilled them, his repose and happiness must +be sacrificed. Soon would envy be excited anew, and the dependent +monarch would not hesitate, a second time, to make an offering of +convenience to a servant whom he could now dispense with. Better for +him at once, and voluntarily, to resign a post from which sooner or +later the intrigues of his enemies would expel him. Security and +content were to be found in the bosom of private life; and nothing but +the wish to oblige the Emperor had induced him, reluctantly enough, to +relinquish for a time his blissful repose." + +Tired of this long farce, the minister at last assumed a serious tone +and threatened the obstinate duke with the Emperor's resentment if he +persisted in his refusal. "Low enough had the imperial dignity," he +added, "stooped already; and yet, instead of exciting his magnanimity +by its condescension, it had only flattered his pride and increased +his obstinacy. If this sacrifice had been made in vain, he would not +answer, but only that the suppliant might be converted into the +sovereign and the monarch might not avenge his injured dignity on his +rebellious subject. However greatly Ferdinand may have erred, the +Emperor at least had a claim to obedience; the man might be mistaken, +but the monarch could not confess his error. If the Duke of Friedland +had suffered by an unjust decree, he might yet be recompensed for all +his losses; the wound which it had itself inflicted, the hand of +Majesty might heal. If he asked security for his person and his +dignities, the Emperor's equity would refuse him no reasonable demand. +Majesty contemned, admitted not of any atonement; disobedience to its +commands cancelled the most brilliant services. The Emperor required +his services, and as Emperor he demanded them. Whatever price +Wallenstein might set upon them, the Emperor would readily agree to; +but he demanded obedience, or the weight of his indignation should +crush the refractory servant." + +Wallenstein, whose extensive possessions within the Austrian monarchy +were momentarily exposed to the power of the Emperor, was keenly +sensible that this was no idle threat; yet it was not fear that at +last overcame his affected reluctance. This imperious tone was of +itself, to his mind, a plain proof of the weakness and despair which +dictated it, while the Emperor's readiness to yield all his demands +convinced him that he had attained the summit of his wishes. He now +made a show of yielding to the persuasions of Eggenberg; and left him, +in order to write down the conditions on which he accepted the +command. + +Not without apprehension, did the minister receive the writing in +which the proudest of subjects had prescribed laws to the proudest of +sovereigns. But however little confidence he had in the moderation of +his friend, the extravagant contents of his writing surpassed even his +worst expectations. Wallenstein required the uncontrolled command over +all the German armies of Austria and Spain, with unlimited powers to +reward and punish. Neither the King of Hungary, nor the Emperor +himself, were to appear in the army, still less to exercise any act of +authority over it. No commission in the army, no pension or letter of +grace, was to be granted by the Emperor without Wallenstein's +approval. All the conquests and confiscations that should take place +were to be placed entirely at Wallenstein's disposal, to the exclusion +of every other tribunal. For his ordinary pay, an imperial hereditary +estate was to be assigned him, with another of the conquered estates +within the Empire for his extraordinary expenses. Every Austrian +province was to be opened to him if he required it in case of +retreat. He further demanded the assurance of the possession of the +Duchy of Mecklenburg, in the event of a future peace; and a formal and +timely intimation, if it should be deemed necessary a second time to +deprive him of the command. + +In vain the minister entreated him to moderate his demands, which, if +granted, would deprive the Emperor of all authority over his own +troops and make him absolutely dependent on his general. The value +placed on his services had been too plainly manifested to prevent him +dictating the price at which they were to be purchased. If the +pressure of circumstances compelled the Emperor to grant these +demands, it was more than a mere feeling of haughtiness and desire of +revenge which induced the duke to make them. His plans of rebellion +were formed, to their success; every one of the conditions for which +Wallenstein stipulated in this treaty with the court was +indispensable. Those plans required that the Emperor should be +deprived of all authority in Germany and be placed at the mercy of his +general; and this object would be attained the moment Ferdinand +subscribed to the required conditions. The use which Wallenstein +intended to make of his army (widely different indeed from that for +which it was intrusted to him) brooked not of a divided power and +still less of an authority superior to his own. To be the sole master +of the will of his troops, he must also be the sole master of their +destinies; insensibly to supplant his sovereign and to transfer +permanently to his own person the rights of sovereignty, which were +only lent to him for a time by a higher authority, he must cautiously +keep the latter out of the view of the army. Hence his obstinate +refusal to allow any prince of the house of Austria to be present with +the army. The liberty of free disposal of all the conquered and +confiscated estates in the Empire would also afford him fearful means +of purchasing dependents and instruments of his plans, and of acting +the dictator in Germany more absolutely than ever any Emperor did in +time of peace. By the right to use any of the Austrian provinces as a +place of refuge, in case of need, he had full power to hold the +Emperor a prisoner by means of his own forces and within his own +dominions, to exhaust the strength and resources of these countries, +and to undermine the power of Austria in its very foundation. + +Whatever might be the issue, he had equally secured his own advantage +by the conditions he had extorted from the Emperor. If circumstances +proved favorable to his daring project, this treaty with the Emperor +facilitated its execution; if, on the contrary, the course of things +ran counter to it, it would at least afford him a brilliant +compensation for the failure of his plans. But how could he consider +an agreement valid which was extorted from his sovereign and based +upon treason? How could he hope to bind the Emperor by a written +agreement, in the face of a law which condemned to death every one who +should have the presumption to impose conditions upon him? But this +criminal was the most indispensable man in the Empire, and Ferdinand, +well practised in dissimulation, granted him for the present all he +required. + +At last, then, the imperial army had found a commander-in-chief worthy +of the name. Every other authority in the army, even that of the +Emperor himself, ceased from the moment Wallenstein assumed the +commander's baton, and every act was invalid which did not proceed +from him. From the banks of the Danube, to those of the Weser and the +Oder, was felt the life-giving dawning of this new star; a new spirit +seemed to inspire the troops of the Emperor, a new epoch of the war +began. The Papists form fresh hopes, the Protestant beholds with +anxiety the changed course of affairs. + +The greater the price at which the services of the new general had +been purchased, the greater justly were the expectations from those +which the court of the Emperor entertained. But the duke was in no +hurry to fulfil these expectations. Already in the vicinity of +Bohemia and at the head of a formidable force, he had but to show +himself there in order to overpower the exhausted forces of the Saxons +and brilliantly to commence his new career by the reconquest of that +kingdom. But, contented with harassing the enemy with indecisive +skirmishes of his Croats, he abandoned the best part of that kingdom +to be plundered, and moved calmly forward in pursuit of his own +selfish plans. His design was, not to conquer the Saxons, but to unite +with them. Exclusively occupied with this important object, he +remained inactive in the hope of conquering more surely by means of +negotiation. He left no expedient untried, to detach this prince from +the Swedish alliance; and Ferdinand himself, ever inclined to an +accommodation with this prince, approved of this proceeding. But the +great debt which Saxony owed to Sweden was as yet too freshly +remembered to allow of such an act of perfidy; and even had the +Elector been disposed to yield to the temptation, the equivocal +character of Wallenstein and the bad character of Austrian policy +precluded any reliance in the integrity of its promises. Notorious +already as a treacherous statesman, he acted faithlessly upon the very +occasion when perhaps he intended to act honestly; and, moreover, was +denied, by circumstances, the opportunity of proving the sincerity of +his intentions, by the disclosure of his real motives. + +He, therefore, unwillingly resolved to extort, by force of arms, what +he could not obtain by negotiation. Suddenly assembling his troops, he +appeared before Prague ere the Saxons had time to advance to its +relief. After a short resistance, the treachery of some Capuchins +opened the gates to one of his regiments; and the garrison, who had +taken refuge in the citadel, soon laid down their arms upon +disgraceful conditions. Master of the capital, he hoped to carry on +more successfully his negotiations at the Saxon court; but even while +he was renewing his proposals to Arnheim, he did not hesitate to give +them weight by striking a decisive blow. He hastened to seize the +narrow passes between Aussig and Pirna, with a view of cutting off +the retreat of the Saxons into their own country; but the rapidity of +Arnheim's operations fortunately extricated them from the danger. +After the retreat of this general, Egra and Leutmeritz, the last +strongholds of the Saxons, surrendered to the conqueror: and the whole +kingdom was restored to its legitimate sovereign, in less time than it +had been lost. + +Wallenstein, less occupied with the interests of his master than with +the furtherance of his own plans, now purposed to carry the war into +Saxony, and by ravaging his territories, compel the Elector to enter +into a private treaty with the Emperor, or rather with himself. But +however little accustomed he was to make his will bend to +circumstances, he now perceived the necessity of postponing his +favorite scheme, for a time, to a more pressing emergency. While he +was driving the Saxons from Bohemia, Gustavus Adolphus had been +gaining the victories, already detailed, on the Rhine and the Danube, +and carried the war through Franconia and Swabia to the frontiers of +Bavaria. Maximilian, defeated on the Lech and deprived by death of +Count Tilly, his best support, urgently solicited the Emperor to send +with all speed the Duke of Friedland to his assistance from Bohemia, +and, by the defence of Bavaria, to avert the danger from Austria +itself. He also made the same request to Wallenstein, and entreated +him, till he could himself come with the main force, to dispatch in +the meantime a few regiments to his aid. Ferdinand seconded the +request with all his influence, and one messenger after another was +sent to Wallenstein, urging him to move toward the Danube. + +It now appeared how completely the Emperor had sacrificed his +authority in surrendering to another the supreme command of his +troops. Indifferent to Maximilian's entreaties, and deaf to the +Emperor's repeated commands, Wallenstein remained inactive in Bohemia +and abandoned the Elector to his fate. The remembrance of the evil +service which Maximilian had rendered him with the Emperor, at the +Diet at Ratisbon, was deeply engraved on the implacable mind of the +duke, and the Elector's late attempts to prevent his reinstatement +were no secret to him. The moment of revenging this affront had now +arrived, and Maximilian was doomed to pay dearly for his folly in +provoking the most revengeful of men. Wallenstein maintained that +Bohemia ought not to be left exposed, and that Austria could not be +better protected than by allowing the Swedish army to waste its +strength before the Bavarian fortress. Thus, by the arm of the Swedes, +he chastised his enemy; and, while one place after another fell into +their hands, he allowed the Elector vainly to await his arrival in +Ratisbon. It was only when the complete subjugation of Bohemia left +him without excuse and the conquests of Gustavus Adolphus in Bavaria +threatened Austria itself, that he yielded to the pressing entreaties +of the Elector and the Emperor and determined to effect the +long-expected union with the former; an event, which, according to the +general anticipation of the Roman Catholics, would decide the fate of +the campaign. + +Gustavus Adolphus, too weak in numbers to cope even with Wallenstein's +force alone, naturally dreaded the junction of such powerful armies, +and the little energy he used to prevent it was the occasion of great +surprise. Apparently he reckoned too much on the hatred which +alienated the leaders and seemed to render their effectual coöperation +improbable; when the event contradicted his views, it was too late to +repair his error. On the first certain intelligence he received of +their designs, he hastened to the Upper Palatinate for the purpose of +intercepting the Elector: but the latter had already arrived there and +the junction had been effected at Egra. + +This frontier town had been chosen by Wallenstein for the scene of his +triumph over his proud rival. Not content with having seen him, as it +were, a suppliant at his feet, he imposed upon him the hard condition +of leaving his territories in his rear exposed to the enemy, and +declaring by this long march to meet him the necessity and distress +to which he was reduced. Even to this humiliation the haughty prince +patiently submitted. It had cost him a severe struggle to ask for +protection of the man who, if his own wishes had been consulted, would +never have had the power of granting it: but having once made up his +mind to it, he was ready to bear all the annoyances which were +inseparable from that resolve and sufficiently master of himself to +put up with petty grievances when an important end was in view. + +But whatever pains it had cost to effect this junction, it was equally +difficult to settle the conditions on which it was to be maintained. +The united army must be placed under the command of one individual, if +any object was to be gained by the union, and each general was equally +averse to yield to the superior authority of the other. If Maximilian +rested his claim on his electoral dignity, the nobleness of his +descent, and his influence in the empire, Wallenstein's military +renown, and the unlimited command conferred on him by the Emperor, +gave an equally strong title to it. If it was deeply humiliating to +the pride of the former to serve under an imperial subject, the idea +of imposing laws on so imperious a spirit flattered in the same degree +the haughtiness of Wallenstein. An obstinate dispute ensued, which, +however, terminated in a mutual compromise to Wallenstein's advantage. +To him was assigned the unlimited command of both armies, particularly +in battle, while the Elector was deprived of all power of altering the +order of battle, or even the route of the army. He retained only the +bare right of punishing and rewarding his own troops and the free use +of these when not acting in conjunction with the Imperialists. + +After these preliminaries were settled, the two generals at last +ventured upon an interview; but not until they had mutually promised +to bury the past in oblivion, and all the outward formalities of a +reconciliation had been settled. According to agreement, they +publicly embraced in the sight of their troops, and made mutual +professions of friendship, while in reality the hearts of both were +overflowing with malice. Maximilian, well versed in dissimulation, had +sufficient command over himself not to betray in a single feature his +real feelings; but a malicious triumph sparkled in the eyes of +Wallenstein, and the constraint which was visible in all his movements +betrayed the violence of the emotion which overpowered his proud soul. + +The combined Imperial and Bavarian armies amounted to nearly 60,000 +men, chiefly veterans. Before this force the King of Sweden was not in +a condition to keep the field. As his attempt to prevent their +junction had failed, he commenced a rapid retreat into Franconia and +waited there for some decisive movement on the part of the enemy, in +order to form his own plans. The position of the combined armies +between the frontiers of Saxony and Bavaria left it for some time +doubtful whether they would remove the war into the former, or +endeavor to drive the Swedes from the Danube and deliver Bavaria. +Saxony had been stripped of troops by Arnheim, who was pursuing his +conquests in Silesia; not without a secret design, it was generally +supposed, of favoring the entrance of the Duke of Friedland into that +electorate and of thus driving the irresolute John George into peace +with the Emperor. Gustavus Adolphus himself, fully persuaded that +Wallenstein's views were directed against Saxony, hastily dispatched a +strong reinforcement to the assistance of his confederate, with the +intention, as soon as circumstances would allow, of following with the +main body. But the movements of Wallenstein's army soon led him to +suspect that he himself was the object of attack; and the Duke's march +through the Upper Palatinate placed the matter beyond a doubt. The +question now was, how to provide for his own security, and the prize +was no longer his supremacy but his very existence. His fertile genius +must now supply the means, not of conquest, but of preservation. The +approach of the enemy had surprised him before he had time to +concentrate his troops, which were scattered all over Germany, or to +summon his allies to his aid. Too weak to meet the enemy in the field, +he had no choice left but either to throw himself into Nuremberg and +run the risk of being shut up in its walls, or to sacrifice that city +and await a reinforcement under the cannon of Donauwerth. Indifferent +to danger or difficulty, while he obeyed the call of humanity or +honor, he chose the first without hesitation, firmly resolved to bury +himself with his whole army under the ruins of Nuremberg rather than +to purchase his own safety by the sacrifice of his confederates. + +Measures were immediately taken to surround the city and suburbs with +redoubts and to form an intrenched camp. Several thousand workmen +immediately commenced this extensive work, and an heroic determination +to hazard life and property in the common cause animated the +inhabitants of Nuremberg. A trench, eight feet deep and twelve broad, +surrounded the whole fortification; the lines were defended by +redoubts and batteries, the gates by half moons. The river Pegnitz, +which flows through Nuremberg, divided the whole camp into two +semicircles whose communication was secured by several bridges. About +three hundred pieces of cannon defended the town-walls and the +intrenchments. The peasantry from the neighboring villages, and the +inhabitants of Nuremberg, assisted the Swedish soldiers so zealously +that on the seventh day the army was able to enter the camp, and, in a +fortnight, this great work was completed. + +While these operations were carried on without the walls, the +magistrates of Nuremberg were busily occupied in filling the magazines +with provisions and ammunition for a long siege. Measures were taken, +at the same time, to secure the health of the inhabitants, which was +likely to be endangered by the conflux of so many people; cleanliness +was enforced by the strictest regulations. In order, if necessary, to +support the King, the youth of the city were enlisted and trained to +arms, the militia of the town considerably reinforced, and a new +regiment raised, consisting of four-and-twenty names, according to the +letters of the alphabet. Gustavus had, in the meantime, called to his +assistance his allies, Duke William of Weimar, and the Landgrave of +Hesse Cassel; and ordered his generals on the Rhine, in Thuringia and +Lower Saxony, to commence their march immediately and join him with +their troops in Nuremberg. His army, which was encamped within the +lines, did not amount to more than 16,000 men, scarcely a third of the +enemy. + +The Imperialists had, in the meantime, by slow marches, advanced to +Neumark, where Wallenstein made a general review. At the sight of this +formidable force, he could not refrain from indulging in a childish +boast: "In four days," said he, "it will be shown whether I or the +King of Sweden is to be master of the world." Yet, notwithstanding his +superiority, he did nothing to fulfil his promise; and even let slip +the opportunity of crushing his enemy when the latter had the +hardihood to leave his lines to meet him. "Battles enough have been +fought," was his answer to those who advised him to attack the King; +"it is now time to try another method." Wallenstein's well-founded +reputation required not any of those rash enterprises on which younger +soldiers rush, in the hope of gaining a name. Satisfied that the +enemy's despair would dearly sell a victory, while a defeat would +irretrievably ruin the Emperor's affairs, he resolved to wear out the +ardor of his opponent by a tedious blockade, and, by thus depriving +him of every opportunity of availing himself of his impetuous bravery, +take from him the very advantage which had hitherto rendered him +invincible. Without making any attack, therefore, he erected a strong +fortified camp on the other side of the Pegnitz, and opposite +Nuremberg; and, by this well chosen position, cut off from the city +and the camp of Gustavus all supplies from Franconia, Swabia, and +Thuringia. Thus he held in siege at once the city and the King, and +flattered himself with the hope of slowly, but surely, wearing out by +famine and pestilence the courage of his opponent whom he had no wish +to encounter in the field. + +Little aware, however, of the resources and the strength of his +adversary, Wallenstein had not taken sufficient precautions to avert +from himself the fate he was designing for others. From the whole of +the neighboring country, the peasantry had fled with their property; +and what little provision remained must be obstinately contested with +the Swedes. The King spared the magazines within the town, as long as +it was possible to provision his army from without; and these forays +produced constant skirmishes between the Croats and the Swedish +cavalry, of which the surrounding country exhibited the most +melancholy traces. The necessaries of life must be obtained sword in +hand; and the foraging parties could not venture out without a +numerous escort. And when this supply failed the town opened its +magazines to the King, but Wallenstein had to support his troops from +a distance. A large convoy from Bavaria was on its way to him, with an +escort of a thousand men. Gustavus Adolphus having received +intelligence of its approach, immediately sent out a regiment of +cavalry to intercept it; and the darkness of the night favored the +enterprise. The whole convoy, with the town in which it was, fell into +the hands of the Swedes; the Imperial escort was broken up; about +1,200 cattle were carried off; and a thousand wagons, loaded with +bread, which could not be brought away, were set on fire. Seven +regiments, which Wallenstein had sent forward to Altdorp to cover the +entrance of the long and anxiously expected convoy, were attacked by +the King, who had, in like manner, advanced to cover the retreat of +his cavalry and routed after an obstinate action, being driven back +into the Imperial camp with the loss of 400 men. So many checks and +difficulties, and so firm and unexpected a resistance on the part of +the King, made the Duke of Friedland repent that he had declined to +hazard a battle. The strength of the Swedish camp rendered an attack +impracticable; and the armed youth of Nuremberg served the King as a +nursery from which he could supply his loss of troops. The want of +provisions, which began to be felt in the Imperial camp as strongly as +in the Swedish, rendered it uncertain which party would be first +compelled to give way. + +Fifteen days had the two armies now remained in view of each other, +equally defended by inaccessible intrenchments, without attempting +anything more than slight attacks and unimportant skirmishes. On both +sides, infectious diseases, the natural consequences of bad food and a +crowded population, had occasioned a greater loss than the sword. And +this evil daily increased. But at length the long expected succor +arrived in the Swedish camp; and by this strong reinforcement the King +was now enabled to obey the dictates of his native courage and to +break the chains which had hitherto fettered him. + +In obedience to his requisitions, the Duke of Weimar had hastily drawn +together a corps from the garrisons in Lower Saxony and Thuringia, +which, at Schweinfurt in Franconia, was joined by four Saxon +regiments, and at Kitzingen by the corps of the Rhine, which the +Landgrave of Hesse and the Palatine of Birkenfeld dispatched to the +relief of the King. The Chancellor, Oxenstiern, undertook to lead this +force to its destination. After being joined at Windsheim by the Duke +of Weimar himself and the Swedish General Banner, he advanced by rapid +marches to Bruck and Eltersdorf, where he passed the Rednitz and +reached the Swedish camp in safety. This reinforcement amounted to +nearly 50,000 men, and was attended by a train of 60 pieces of cannon +and 4,000 baggage wagons. Gustavus now saw himself at the head of an +army of nearly 70,000 strong, without reckoning the militia of +Nuremberg, which, in case of necessity, could bring into the field +about 30,000 fighting men; a formidable force, opposed to another not +less formidable. The war seemed at length compressed to the point of a +single battle, which was to decide its fearful issue. With divided +sympathies, Europe looked with anxiety upon this scene, where the +whole strength of the two contending parties was fearfully drawn, as +it were, to a focus. + +If, before the arrival of the Swedish succor, a want of provisions had +been felt, the evil was now fearfully increased to a dreadful height +in both camps, for Wallenstein had also received reinforcements from +Bavaria. Besides the 120,000 men confronting each other, and more than +50,000 horses, in the two armies, and besides the inhabitants of +Nuremberg, whose number far exceeded the Swedish army, there were in +the camp of Wallenstein about 15,000 women, with as many drivers, and +nearly the same number in that of the Swedes. The custom of the time +permitted the soldier to carry his family with him to the field; a +number of prostitutes followed the Imperialists; while, with the view +of preventing the excesses practised by the latter, Gustavus's care +for the morals of his soldiers encouraged marriages. For the rising +generation who had this camp for their home and country, regular +military schools were established, which educated a race of excellent +warriors by whom the army might recruit itself in the course of a long +campaign. No wonder, then, if these wandering nations exhausted every +territory in which they encamped, and by their immense consumption +raised the necessaries of life to an exorbitant price. All the mills +of Nuremberg were insufficient to grind the corn required for each +day; and 15,000 pounds of bread, which were daily delivered by the +town into the Swedish camp, excited, without allaying, the hunger of +the soldiers. The laudable exertions of the magistrates of Nuremberg +could not prevent the greater part of the horses from dying for want +of forage, while the increasing mortality in the camp consigned more +than a hundred men daily to the grave. + +To put an end to these distresses, Gustavus Adolphus, relying on his +numerical superiority, left his lines on the 25th day, forming before +the enemy in order of battle, while he cannonaded the duke's camp from +three batteries erected on the side of the Rednitz. But the duke +remained immovable in his intrenchments, and contented himself with +answering this challenge by a distant fire of cannon and musketry. His +plan was to wear out the king by his inactivity, and by the force of +famine to overcome his resolute determination; and neither the +remonstrances of Maximilian and the impatience of his army, nor the +ridicule of his opponent, could shake his purpose. Gustavus, deceived +in his hope of forcing a battle, and compelled by his increasing +necessities, now attempted impossibilities, and resolved to storm a +position which art and nature had combined to render impregnable. + +Intrusting his own camp to the militia of Nuremberg, on the +fifty-eighth day of his encampment (the festival of St. Bartholomew), +he advanced in full order of battle, and passing the Rednitz at Furth, +easily drove the enemy's outposts before him. The main army of the +Imperialists was posted on the steep heights between the Biber and the +Rednitz, called the Old Fortress and Altenberg; while the camp itself, +commanded by these eminences, spread out immeasurably along the plain. +On these heights the whole of the artillery was placed. Deep trenches +surrounded inaccessible redoubts, while thick barricades, with pointed +palisades, defended the approaches to the heights, from the summits of +which Wallenstein calmly and securely discharged the lightnings of his +artillery from amid the dark thunder-clouds of smoke. A destructive +fire of musketry was maintained behind the breastworks, and a hundred +pieces of cannon threatened the desperate assailant with certain +destruction. Against this dangerous post Gustavus now directed his +attack; five hundred musketeers, supported by a few infantry (for a +greater number could not act in the narrow space), enjoyed the +unenvied privilege of first throwing themselves into the open jaws of +death. The assault was furious, the resistance obstinate. Exposed to +the whole fire of the enemy's artillery, and infuriated by the +prospect of inevitable death, these determined warriors rushed forward +to storm the heights which, in an instant, converted into a flaming +volcano, discharged on them a shower of shot. At the same moment, the +heavy cavalry rushed forward into the openings which the artillery had +made in the close ranks of the assailants, and divided them; till the +intrepid band, conquered by the strength of nature and of man, took to +flight, leaving a hundred dead upon the field. To Germans had Gustavus +yielded this post of honor. Exasperated at their retreat, he now led +on his Finlanders to the attack, thinking, by their northern courage, +to shame the cowardice of the Germans. But they, also, after a similar +hot reception, yielded to the superiority of the enemy; and a third +regiment succeeded them to experience the same fate. This was replaced +by a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth; so that, during a ten hours' +action, every regiment was brought to the attack to retire with bloody +loss from the contest. A thousand mangled bodies covered the field; +yet Gustavus undauntedly maintained the attack, and Wallenstein held +his position unshaken. + +In the mean time, a sharp contest had taken place between the imperial +cavalry and the left wing of the Swedes which was posted in a thicket +on the Rednitz, with varying success but with equal intrepedity and +loss on both sides. The Duke of Friedland and Prince Bernard of Weimar +had each a horse shot under him; the king himself had the sole of his +boot carried off by a cannon ball. The combat was maintained with +undiminished obstinacy, till the approach of night separated the +combatants. But the Swedes had advanced too far to retreat without +hazard. While the king was seeking an officer to convey to the +regiments the order to retreat, he met Colonel Hepburn, a brave +Scotchman, whose native courage alone had drawn him from the camp to +share in the dangers of the day. Offended with the king for having, +not long before, preferred a younger officer for some post of danger, +he had rashly vowed never again to draw his sword for the king. To him +Gustavus now addressed himself, praising his courage and requesting +him to order the regiments to retreat. "Sire," replied the brave +soldier, "it is the only service I cannot refuse to your Majesty; for +it is a hazardous one"--and immediately hastened to carry the command. +One of the heights above the old fortress had, in the heat of the +action, been carried by the Duke of Weimar. It commanded the hills and +the whole camp. But the heavy rain which fell during the night +rendered it impossible to draw up the cannon; and this post, which had +been gained with so much bloodshed, was also voluntarily abandoned. +Diffident of fortune, which forsook him on this decisive day, the king +did not venture the following morning to renew the attack with his +exhausted troops; and vanquished for the first time, even because he +was not victor, he led back his troops over the Rednitz. Two thousand +dead which he left behind him on the field, testified to the extent of +his loss; and the Duke of Friedland remained unconquered within his +lines. + +For fourteen days after this action, the two armies still continued in +front of each other, each in the hope that the other would be the +first to give way. Every day reduced their provisions, and, as +scarcity became greater, the unbridled excesses of the furious +soldiers exercised the wildest outrages on the peasantry. The +increasing distress broke up all discipline and order in the Swedish +camp; and the German regiments, in particular, distinguished +themselves for the ravages they practised indiscriminately on friend +and foe. The weak hand of a single individual could not check +excesses, encouraged by the silence, if not the actual example, of the +inferior officers. These shameful breaches of discipline, on the +maintenance of which he had hitherto justly prided himself, severely +pained the king; and the vehemence with which he reproached the German +officers for their negligence, bespoke the liveliness of his emotion. +"It is you yourselves, Germans," said he, "that rob your native +country, and ruin your own confederates in the faith. As God is my +judge, I abhor you, I loathe you; my heart sinks within me whenever I +look upon you. Ye break my orders; ye are the cause that the world +curses me, that the tears of poverty follow me, that complaints ring +in my ear--'The King, our friend, does us more harm than even our +worst enemies.' On your account I have stripped my own kingdom of its +treasures, and spent upon you more than 40 tons of gold;[61] while +from your German empire I have not received the least aid. I gave you +a share of all that God had given to me; and had ye regarded my orders +I would have gladly shared with you all my future acquisitions. Your +want of discipline convinces me of your evil intentions, whatever +cause I might otherwise have to applaud your bravery." + +Nuremberg had exerted itself, almost beyond its power, to subsist for +eleven weeks the vast crowd which was compressed within its +boundaries; but its means were at length exhausted, and the king's +more numerous party was obliged to determine on a retreat. By the +casualties of war and sickness, Nuremberg had lost more than 10,000 of +its inhabitants, and Gustavus Adolphus nearly 20,000 of his soldiers. +The fields around the city were trampled down, the villages were in +ashes, the plundered peasantry lay faint and dying on the highways; +foul odors infected the air, and bad food, the exhalations from so +dense a population, and so many putrifying carcasses, together with +the heat of the dog-days, produced a desolating pestilence which raged +among men and beasts, and long after the retreat of both armies, +continued to load the country with misery and distress. Affected by +the general distress, and despairing of conquering the steady +determination of the Duke of Friedland, the king broke up his camp on +the 5th of September, leaving in Nuremberg a sufficient garrison. He +advanced in full order of battle before the enemy, who remained +motionless and did not attempt in the least to harass his retreat. His +route lay by the Aisch and Windsheim toward Neustadt, where he halted +five days to refresh his troops, and also to be near to Nuremberg in +case the enemy should make an attempt upon the town. But Wallenstein, +as exhausted as himself, had only awaited the retreat of the Swedes to +commence his own. Five days afterward he broke up his camp at Zirndorf +and set it on fire. A hundred columns of smoke, rising from all the +burning villages in the neighborhood, announced his retreat and showed +the city the fate it had escaped. His march, which was directed on +Forchheim, was marked by the most frightful ravages; but he was too +far advanced to be overtaken by the king. The latter now divided his +army, which the exhausted country was unable to support, and leaving +one division to protect Franconia, with the other he prosecuted in +person his conquests in Bavaria. In the mean time, the imperial +Bavarian army had marched into the Bishopric of Bamberg, where the +Duke of Friedland a second time mustered his troops. He found this +force, which so lately had amounted to 60,000 men, diminished by the +sword, desertion, and disease, to about 24,000, and of these a fourth +were Bavarians. Thus had the encampments before Nuremberg weakened +both parties more than two great battles would have done, apparently +without advancing the termination of the war, or satisfying, by any +decisive result, the expectations of Europe. The king's conquests in +Bavaria, were, it is true, checked for a time by this diversion before +Nuremberg, and Austria itself secured against the danger of immediate +invasion; but by the retreat of the king from that city, he was again +left at full liberty to make Bavaria the seat of war. Indifferent +toward the fate of that country, and weary of the restraint which his +union with the Elector imposed upon him, the Duke of Friedland eagerly +seized the opportunity of separating from this burdensome associate, +and prosecuting, with renewed earnestness, his favorite plans. Still +adhering to his purpose of detaching Saxony from its Swedish +alliance, he selected that country for his winter quarters, hoping by +his destructive presence to force the Elector the more readily into +his views. + +No conjuncture could be more favorable for his designs. The Saxons had +invaded Silesia, where, reinforced by troops from Brandenburg and +Sweden, they had gained several advantages over the Emperor's troops. +Silesia would be saved by a diversion against the Elector in his own +territories, and the attempt was the more easy as Saxony, left +undefended during the war in Silesia, lay open on every side to +attack. The pretext of rescuing from the enemy a hereditary dominion +of Austria would silence the remonstrances of the Elector of Bavaria, +and, under the mask of a patriotic zeal for the Emperor's interests, +Maximilian might be sacrificed without much difficulty. By giving up +the rich country of Bavaria to the Swedes, he hoped to be left +unmolested by them in his enterprise against Saxony, while the +increasing coldness between Gustavus and the Saxon Court gave him +little reason to apprehend any extraordinary zeal for the deliverance +of John George. Thus a second time abandoned by his artful protector, +the Elector separated from Wallenstein at Bamberg, to protect his +defenceless territory with the small remains of his troops, while the +imperial army, under Wallenstein, directed its march through Bayreuth +and Coburg toward the Thuringian Forest. + +An imperial general, Holk, had previously been sent into Vogtland with +6,000 men, to waste this defenceless province with fire and sword; he +was soon followed by Gallas, another of the Duke's generals, and an +equally faithful instrument of his inhuman orders. Finally, +Pappenheim, too, was recalled from Lower Saxony, to reinforce the +diminished army of the duke and to complete the miseries of the +devoted country. Ruined churches, villages in ashes, harvests wilfully +destroyed, families plundered, and murdered peasants, marked the +progress of these barbarians, under whose scourge the whole of +Thuringia, Vogtland, and Meissen, lay defenceless. Yet this was but +the prelude to greater sufferings with which Wallenstein himself, at +the head of the main army, threatened Saxony. After having left behind +him fearful monuments of his fury, in his march through Franconia and +Thuringia, he arrived with his whole army in the Circle of Leipzic, +and compelled the city, after a short resistance, to surrender. His +design was to push on to Dresden, and by the conquest of the whole +country to prescribe laws to the Elector. He had already approached +the Mulda, threatening to overpower the Saxon army which had advanced +as far as Torgau to meet him, when the King of Sweden's arrival at +Erfurt gave an unexpected check to his operations. Placed between the +Saxon and Swedish armies, which were likely to be further reinforced +by the troops of George, Duke of Lüneburg, from Lower Saxony, he +hastily retired upon Meresberg, to form a junction there with Count +Pappenheim and to repel the further advance of the Swedes. + +Gustavus Adolphus had witnessed, with great uneasiness, the arts +employed by Spain and Austria to detach his allies from him. The more +important his alliance with Saxony, the more anxiety the inconstant +temper of John George caused him. Between himself and the Elector a +sincere friendship could never subsist. A prince, proud of his +political importance and accustomed to consider himself as the head of +his party, could not see without annoyance the interference of a +foreign power in the affairs of the Empire; and nothing but the +extreme danger of his dominions could overcome the aversion with which +he had long witnessed the progress of this unwelcome intruder. The +increasing influence of the king in Germany, his authority with the +Protestant states, the unambiguous proofs which he gave of his +ambitious views, which were of a character calculated to excite the +jealousies of all the states of the Empire, awakened in the Elector's +breast a thousand anxieties, which the imperial emissaries did not +fail skilfully to keep alive and cherish. Every arbitrary step on the +part of the King, every demand, however reasonable, which he +addressed to the princes of the Empire, was followed by bitter +complaints from the Elector, which seemed to announce an approaching +rupture. Even the generals of the two powers, whenever they were +called upon to act in common, manifested the same jealousy as divided +their leaders. John George's natural aversion to war, and a lingering +attachment to Austria, favored the efforts of Arnheim, who, +maintaining a constant correspondence with Wallenstein, labored +incessantly to effect a private treaty between his master and the +Emperor; and if his representatives were long disregarded, still the +event proved that they were not altogether without effect. + +Gustavus Adolphus, naturally apprehensive of the consequences which +the defection of so powerful an ally would produce on his future +prospects in Germany, spared no pains to avert so pernicious an event; +and his remonstrances had hitherto had some effect upon the Elector. +But the formidable power with which the Emperor seconded his seductive +proposals, and the miseries which, in the case of hesitation, he +threatened to accumulate upon Saxony, might at length overcome the +resolution of the Elector, should he be left exposed to the vengeance +of his enemies; while an indifference to the fate of so powerful a +confederate would irreparably destroy the confidence of the other +allies in their protector. This consideration induced the king a +second time to yield to the pressing entreaties of the Elector and to +sacrifice his own brilliant prospects to the safety of this ally. He +had already resolved upon a second attack on Ingoldstadt; and the +weakness of the Elector of Bavaria gave him hopes of soon forcing this +exhausted enemy to accede to a neutrality. An insurrection of the +peasantry in Upper Austria opened to him a passage into that country, +and the capital might be in his possession before Wallenstein could +have time to advance to its defence. All these views he now gave up +for the sake of an ally, who, neither by his services nor his fidelity +was worthy of the sacrifices; who, on the pressing occasions of +common good, had steadily adhered to his own selfish projects; and who +was important, not for the services he was expected to render, but +merely for the injuries he had it in his power to inflict. Is it +possible, then, to refrain from indignation, when we know that, in +this expedition, undertaken for the benefit of such an ally, the great +king was destined to terminate his career? + +Rapidly assembling his troops in Franconia, he followed the route of +Wallenstein through Thuringia. Duke Bernard of Weimar, who had been +dispatched to act against Pappenheim, joined the king at Armstadt, who +now saw himself at the head of 20,000 veterans. At Erfurt he took +leave of his queen, who was not to behold him save in his coffin at +Weissenfels. Their anxious adieus seemed to forbode an eternal +separation. He reached Naumburg on the 1st of November, 1632, before +the corps, which the Duke of Friedland had dispatched for that +purpose, could make itself master of that place. The inhabitants of +the surrounding country flocked in crowds to look upon the hero, the +avenger, the great king, who, a year before, had first appeared in +that quarter, like a guardian angel. Shouts of joy everywhere attended +his progress; the people knelt before him, and struggled for the honor +of touching the sheath of his sword or the hem of his garment. The +modest hero disliked this innocent tribute which a sincerely grateful +and admiring multitude paid him. "Is it not," said he, "as if this +people would make a God of me? Our affairs prosper, indeed; but I fear +the vengeance of Heaven will punish me for this presumption, and soon +enough reveal to this deluded multitude my human weakness and +mortality!" How amiable does Gustavus appear before us at this moment, +when about to leave us forever! Even in the plentitude of success, he +honors an avenging Nemesis, declines that homage which is due only to +the Immortal, and strengthens his title to our tears, the nearer the +moment approaches that is to call them forth! In the mean time, the +Duke of Friedland had determined to advance to meet the king, as far +as Weissenfels, and, even at the hazard of a battle, to secure his +winter-quarters in Saxony. His inactivity before Nuremberg had +occasioned a suspicion that he was unwilling to measure his powers +with those of the Hero of the North, and his hard-earned reputation +would be at stake, if, a second time, he should decline a battle. His +present superiority in numbers, though much less than what it was at +the beginning of the siege of Nuremberg, was still enough to give him +hopes of victory, if he could compel the king to give battle before +his junction with the Saxons. But his present reliance was not so much +in his numerical superiority as in the predictions of his astrologer +Seni, who had read in the stars that the good fortune of the Swedish +monarch would decline in the month of November. Besides, between +Naumburg and Weissenfels there was a range of narrow defiles formed by +a long mountainous ridge, and also the river Saal which ran at their +foot, along which the Swedes could not advance without difficulty, and +which might, with the assistance of a few troops, be rendered almost +impassable. If attacked there, the king would have no choice but +either to penetrate with great danger through the defiles, or commence +a laborious retreat through Thuringia, and to expose the greater part +of his army to a march through a desert country entirely destitute of +all necessary supplies. But the rapidity with which Gustavus Adolphus +had taken possession of Naumburg disappointed this plan, and it was +now Wallenstein himself who awaited the attack. + +But in this expectation he was disappointed; for the king, instead of +advancing to meet him at Weissenfels, made preparations for +intrenching himself near Naumburg, with the intention of awaiting +there the reinforcements which the Duke of Luneburg was bringing up. +Undecided whether to advance against the king through the narrow +passes between Weissenfels and Naumburg or to remain inactive in his +camp, he called a council of war, in order to have the opinion of his +most experienced generals. None of these thought it prudent to attack +the king in his advantageous position. On the other hand, the +preparations which the latter made to fortify his camp plainly showed +that it was not his intention soon to abandon it. But the approach of +winter rendered it impossible to prolong the campaign and by a +continued encampment to exhaust the strength of the army, already so +much in need of repose. All voices were in favor of immediately +terminating the campaign, and the more so, as the important city of +Cologne upon the Rhine was threatened by the Dutch, while the progress +of the enemy in Westphalia and the Lower Rhine called for effective +reinforcements in that quarter. Wallenstein yielded to the weight of +these arguments, and, almost convinced that, at this season, he had no +reason to apprehend an attack from the King, he put his troops into +winter-quarters, but so that, if necessary, they might be rapidly +assembled. Count Pappenheim was dispatched, with a great part of the +army, to the assistance of Cologne, with orders to take possession, on +his march, of the fortress of Moritzburg, in the territory of Halle. +Different corps took up their winter-quarters in the neighboring +towns, to watch, on all sides, the motions of the enemy. Count +Colloredo guarded the castle of Weissenfels, and Wallenstein himself +encamped with the remainder not far from Merseburg, between Flotzgaben +and the Saal, from whence he purposed to march to Leipzic and to cut +off the communication between the Saxons and the Swedish army. + +Scarcely had Gustavus Adolphus been informed of Pappenheim's +departure, when, suddenly breaking up his camp at Naumburg, he +hastened with his whole force to attack the enemy, now weakened to one +half. He advanced, by rapid marches, toward Weissenfels, from whence +the news of his arrival quickly reached the enemy and greatly +astonished the Duke of Friedland. But a speedy resolution was now +necessary; and the measures of Wallenstein were soon taken. Though he +had little more than 12,000 men to oppose to the 20,000 of the enemy, +he might hope to maintain his ground until the return of Pappenheim, +who could not have advanced farther than Halle, five miles distant. +Messengers were hastily dispatched to recall him, while Wallenstein +moved forward into the wide plain between the Canal and Lützen, where +lie awaited the King in full order of battle, and, by this position, +cut off his communication with Leipzic and the Saxons auxiliaries. + +Three cannon shots, fired by Count Colloredo from the castle of +Weissenfels, announced the king's approach; and at this concerted +signal, the light troops of the Duke of Friedland, under the command +of the Croatian General Isolani, moved forward to possess themselves +of the villages lying upon the Rippach. Their weak resistance did not +impede the advance of the enemy, who crossed the Rippach, near the +village of that name, and formed in line below Lützen, opposite the +Imperialists. The high road which goes from Weissenfels to Leipzic is +intersected between Lützen and Markranstadt by the canal which extends +from Zeitz to Merseburg and unites the Elster with the Saal. On this +canal rested the left wing of the Imperialists, and the right of the +King of Sweden; but so that the cavalry of both extended themselves +along the opposite side. To the northward, behind Lützen, was +Wallenstein's right wing, and to the south of that town was posted the +left wing of the Swedes; both armies fronted the high road, which ran +between them and divided their order of battle; but the evening before +the battle, Wallenstein, to the great disadvantage of his opponent, +had possessed himself of this highway, deepened the trenches which ran +along its sides, and planted them with musketeers, so as to make the +crossing of it both difficult and dangerous. Behind these, again, was +erected a battery of seven large pieces of cannon, to support the fire +from the trenches; and at the windmills, close behind Lützen, fourteen +smaller field-pieces were ranged on an eminence from which they could +sweep the greater part of the plain. The infantry, divided into no +more than five unwieldy brigades, was drawn up at the distance of 300 +paces from the road, and the cavalry covered the flanks. All the +baggage was sent to Leipzic that it might not impede the movements of +the army; and the ammunition-wagons alone remained, which were placed +in rear of the line. To conceal the weakness of the Imperialists, all +the camp-followers and sutlers were mounted and posted on the left +wing, but only until Pappenheim's troops arrived. These arrangements +were made during the darkness of the night; and when the morning +dawned all was ready for the reception of the enemy. + +On the evening of the same day, Gustavus Adolphus appeared on the +opposite plain and formed his troops in the order of attack. His +disposition was the same as that which had been so successful the year +before at Leipzic. Small squadrons of horse were interspersed among +the divisions of the infantry, and troops of musketeers were placed +here and there among the cavalry. The army was arranged in two lines, +the canal on the right and in its rear, the high road in front, and +the town on the left. In the centre the infantry was formed, under the +command of Count Brahe; the cavalry on the wings; the artillery in +front. To the German hero, Bernard, Duke of Weimar, was intrusted the +command of the German cavalry of the left wing; while, on the right, +the king led on the Swedes in person, in order to excite the emulation +of the two nations to a noble competition. The second line was formed +in the same manner; and behind these was placed the reserve, commanded +by Henderson, a Scotchman. + +In this position they awaited the eventful dawn of morning, to begin a +contest which long delay, rather than the probability of decisive +consequences, and the picked body, rather than the number of the +combatants, was to render so terrible and remarkable. The strained +expectation of Europe, so disappointed before Nuremberg, was now to be +gratified on the plains of Lützen. During the whole course of the +war, two such generals, so equally matched in renown and ability, had +not before been pitted against each other. Never, as yet, had daring +been cooled by so awful a hazard, or hope animated by so glorious a +prize. Europe was next day to learn who was her greatest +general--tomorrow the leader, who had hitherto been invincible, must +acknowledge a victor. This morning was to place it beyond a doubt +whether the victories of Gustavus at Leipzic and on the Lech were +owing to his own military genius, or to the incompetency of his +opponent; whether the services of Wallenstein were to vindicate the +Emperor's choice and justify the high price at which they had been +purchased. The victory was as yet doubtful, but certain were the labor +and the bloodshed by which it must be earned. Every private in both +armies felt a jealous share in their leader's reputation, and under +every corslet beat the same emotions that inflamed the bosoms of the +generals. Each army knew the enemy to which it was to be opposed: and +the anxiety which each in vain attempted to repress was a convincing +proof of their opponent's strength. + +At last the fateful morning dawned; but an impenetrable fog, which +spread over the plain, delayed the attack till noon. Kneeling in front +of his lines, the king offered up his devotions; and the whole army, +at the same moment dropping on their knees, burst into a moving hymn, +accompanied by the military music. The king then mounted his horse, +and clad only in a leathern doublet and surtout (for a wound he had +formerly received prevented his wearing armor), rode along the ranks +to animate the courage of his troops with a joyful confidence, which, +however, the foreboding presentiment of his own bosom contradicted. +"God with us!" was the war-cry of the Swedes; "Jesus Maria!" that of +the Imperialists. About eleven the fog began to disperse, and the +enemy became visible. At the same moment Lützen was seen in flames, +having been set on fire by command of the duke to prevent his being +outflanked on that side. The charge was now sounded; the cavalry +rushed upon the enemy, and the infantry advanced against the trenches. + +Received by a tremendous fire of musketry and heavy artillery, these +intrepid battalions maintained the attack with undaunted courage, till +the enemy's musketeers abandoned their posts, the trenches were +passed, the battery carried and turned against the enemy. They pressed +forward with irresistible impetuosity; the first of the five imperial +brigades was immediately routed, the second soon after, and the third +put to flight. But here the genius of Wallenstein opposed itself to +their progress. With the rapidity of lightning he was on the spot to +rally his discomfited troops; and his powerful word was itself +sufficient to stop the flight of the fugitives. Supported by three +regiments of cavalry, the vanquished brigades, forming anew, faced the +enemy and pressed vigorously into the broken ranks of the Swedes. A +murderous conflict ensued. The nearness of the enemy left no room for +fire-arms, the fury of the attack no time for loading; man was matched +to man, the useless musket exchanged for the sword and pike, and +science gave way to desperation. Overpowered by numbers, the wearied +Swedes at last retire beyond the trenches; and the captured battery is +again lost by the retreat. A thousand mangled bodies already strewed +the plain, and as yet not a single step of ground had been won. In the +meantime the king's right wing, led by himself, had fallen upon the +enemy's left. The first impetuous shock of the heavy Finland +cuirassiers dispersed the lightly-mounted Poles and Croats, who were +posted here, and their disorderly flight spread terror and confusion +among the rest of the cavalry. At this moment notice was brought the +king that his infantry were retreating over the trenches, and also +that his left wing, exposed to a severe fire from the enemy's cannon +posted at the windmills, was beginning to give way. With rapid +decision he committed to General Horn the pursuit of the enemy's left, +while he flew, at the head of the regiment of Steinboek, to repair +the disorder of his right wing. His noble charger bore him with the +velocity of lightning across the trenches, but the squadrons that +followed could not come on with the same speed, and only a few +horsemen, among whom was Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg, were +able to keep up with the king. He rode directly to the place where his +infantry were most closely pressed, and while he was reconnoitering +the enemy's line for an exposed point of attack, the shortness of his +sight unfortunately led him too close to their ranks. An imperial +Gefreyter,[62] remarking that every one respectfully made way for him +as he rode along, immediately ordered a musketeer to take aim at him. +"Fire at him yonder," said he; "that must be a man of consequence." +The soldier fired, and the king's left arm was shattered. At that +moment his squadron came hurrying up, and a confused cry of "The king +bleeds! the king is shot!" spread terror and consternation through all +the ranks. "It is nothing--follow me," cried the king, collecting his +whole strength; but overcome by pain and nearly fainting, he requested +the Duke of Lauenburg, in French, to lead him unobserved out of the +tumult. While the duke proceeded toward the right wing with the king, +making a long circuit to keep this discouraging sight from the +disordered infantry, his majesty received a second shot through the +back, which deprived him of his remaining strength. "Brother," said +he, with a dying voice, "I have enough! look only to your own life." +At the same moment he fell from his horse pierced by several more +shots; and abandoned by all his attendants, he breathed his last +amidst the plundering hands of the Croats. His charger, flying without +its rider and covered with blood, soon made known to the Swedish +cavalry the fall of their king. They rushed madly forward to rescue +his sacred remains from the hands of the enemy. A murderous conflict +ensued over the body, till his mangled remains were buried beneath a +heap of slain. + +The mournful tidings soon ran through the Swedish army; but instead +of destroying the courage of these brave troops, it but excited it +into a new, a wild, and consuming flame. Life had lessened in value, +now that the most sacred life of all was gone; death had no terrors +for the lowly since the anointed head was not spared. With the fury of +lions the Upland, Smäland, Finland, East and West Gothland regiments +rushed a second time upon the left wing of the enemy, which, already +making but feeble resistance to General Horn, was now entirely beaten +from the field. Bernard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, gave to the bereaved +Swedes a noble leader in his own person; and the spirit of Gustavus +led his victorious squadrons anew. The left wing quickly formed again +and vigorously pressed the right of the Imperialists. The artillery at +the windmills, which had maintained so murderous a fire upon the +Swedes, was captured and turned against the enemy. The centre, also, +of the Swedish infantry, commanded by the duke and Knyphausen, +advanced a second time against the trenches, which they successfully +passed, and retook the battery of seven cannons. The attack was now +renewed with redoubled fury upon the heavy battalions of the enemy's +centre; their resistance became gradually less, and chance conspired +with Swedish valor to complete the defeat. The imperial powder-wagons +took fire, and, with a tremendous explosion, grenades and bombs filled +the air. The enemy, now in confusion, thought they were attacked in +the rear, while the Swedish brigades pressed them in front. Their +courage began to fail them. Their left wing was already beaten, their +right wavering, and their artillery in the enemy's hands. The battle +seemed to be almost decided; another moment would settle the fate of +the day, when Pappenheim appeared on the field, with his cuirassiers +and dragoons; all the advantages already gained were lost, and the +battle was to be fought anew. + +The order which recalled that general to Lützen had reached him in +Halle, while his troops were still plundering the town. It was +impossible to collect the scattered infantry with that rapidity which +the urgency of the order and Pappenheim's impatience required. Without +waiting for it, therefore, he ordered eight regiments of cavalry to +mount; and at their head he galloped at full speed for Lützen, to +share in the battle. He arrived in time to witness the flight of the +imperial right wing, which Gustavus Horn was driving from the field, +and to be at first involved in their rout. But with rapid presence of +mind he rallied the flying troops, and led them once more against the +enemy. Carried away by his wild bravery, and impatient to encounter +the king who he supposed was at the head of this wing, he burst +furiously upon the Swedish ranks, which, exhausted by victory, and +inferior in numbers, were, after a noble resistance, overpowered by +this fresh body of enemies. Pappenheim's unexpected appearance revived +the drooping courage of the Imperialists, and the Duke of Friedland +quickly availed himself of the favorable moment to re-form his line. +The closely serried battalions of the Swedes were, after a tremendous +conflict, again driven across the trenches; and the battery, which had +been twice lost, was again rescued from their hands. The whole yellow +regiment, the finest of all that distinguished themselves in this +dreadful day, lay dead on the field, covering the ground almost in the +same excellent order which, when alive, they maintained with such +unyielding courage. The same fate befell another regiment of Blues, +which Count Piccolomini attacked with the imperial cavalry and cut +down after a desperate contest. Seven times did this intrepid general +renew the attack; seven horses were shot under him, and he himself was +pierced with six musket balls; yet he would not leave the field, until +he was carried along in the general rout of the whole army. +Wallenstein himself was seen riding through his ranks with cool +intrepidity, amidst a shower of balls, assisting the distressed, +encouraging the valiant with praise, and the wavering by his fearful +glance. Around and close by him his men were falling thick, and his +own mantle was perforated by several shots. But avenging destiny this +day protected that breast for which another weapon was reserved; on +the same field where the noble Gustavus expired, Wallenstein was not +allowed to terminate his guilty career. + +Less fortunate was Pappenheim, the Telamon of the army, the bravest +soldier of Austria and the church. An ardent desire to encounter the +king in person carried this daring leader into the thickest of the +fight, where he thought his noble opponent was most surely to be met. +Gustavus had also expressed a wish to meet his brave antagonist, but +these hostile wishes remained ungratified; death first brought +together these two great heroes. Two musket-balls pierced the breast +of Pappenheim; and his men forcibly carried him from the field. While +they were conveying him to the rear, a murmur reached him that he whom +he had sought lay dead upon the plain. When the truth of the report +was confirmed to him, his look became brighter, his dying eye sparkled +with a last gleam of joy. "I Tell the Duke of Friedland," said he, +"that I lie without hope of life, but that I die happy, since I know +that the implacable enemy of my religion has fallen on the same day." + +With Pappenheim, the good fortune of the Imperialists departed. The +cavalry of the left wing, already beaten, and only rallied by his +exertions, no sooner missed their victorious leader than they gave up +everything for lost and abandoned the field of battle in spiritless +despair. The right wing fell into the same confusion, with the +exception of a few regiments which the bravery of their colonels Götz, +Terzky, Colloredo, and Piccolomini compelled to keep their ground. The +Swedish infantry, with prompt determination, profited by the enemy's +confusion. To fill up the gaps which death had made in the front line, +they formed both lines into one, and with it made the final and +decisive charge. A third time they crossed the trenches, and a third +time they captured the battery. The sun was setting when the two lines +closed. The strife grew hotter as it drew to an end; the last efforts +of strength were mutually exerted, and skill and courage did their +utmost to repair in these precious moments the fortune of the day. It +was in vain; despair endows every one with superhuman strength; no one +can conquer, no one will give way. The art of war seemed to exhaust +its powers on one side, only to unfold some new and untried +masterpiece of skill on the other. Night and darkness at last put at +end to the fight, before the fury of the combatants was exhausted; and +the contest ceased only when no one could any longer find an +antagonist. Both armies separated, as if by tacit agreement; the +trumpets sounded, and each party claiming the victory, quitted the +field. + +The artillery on both sides, as the horses could not be found, +remained all night upon the field, at once the reward and the evidence +of victory to him who should hold it. Wallenstein, in his haste to +leave Leipzic and Saxony, forgot to remove his part. Not long after +the battle was ended, Pappenheim's infantry, who had been unable to +follow the rapid movements of their general and who amounted to six +regiments, marched on the field, but the work was done. A few hours +earlier, so considerable a reinforcement would perhaps have decided +the day in favor of the Imperialists; and, even now, by remaining on +the field, they might have saved the duke's artillery and made a prize +of that of the Swedes. But they had received no orders to act; and, +uncertain as to the issue of the battle, they retired to Leipzic, +where they hoped to join the main body. + +The Duke of Friedland had retreated thither, and was followed on the +morrow by the scattered remains of his army, without artillery, +without colors, and almost without arms. The Duke of Weimar, it +appears, after the toils of this bloody day, allowed the Swedish army +some repose, between Lützen and Weissenfels, near enough to the field +of battle to oppose any attempt the enemy might make to recover it. Of +the two armies, more than 9,000 men lay dead; a still greater number +were wounded, and, among the Imperialists, scarcely a man escaped from +the field uninjured. The entire plain from Lützen to the Canal was +strewed with the wounded, the dying, and the dead. Many of the +principal nobility had fallen on both sides. Even the Abbot of Fulda, +who had mingled in the combat as a spectator, paid for his curiosity +and his ill-timed zeal with his life. History says nothing of +prisoners; a further proof of the animosity of the combatants, who +neither gave nor took quarter. + +Pappenheim died the next day of his wounds at Leipzig; an irreparable +loss to the imperial army, which this brave warrior had so often led +on to victory. The battle of Prague, where together with Wallenstein, +he was present as colonel, was the beginning of his heroic career. +Dangerously wounded, with a few troops, he made an impetuous attack on +a regiment of the enemy, and lay for several hours mixed with the dead +upon the field, beneath the weight of his horse, till he was +discovered by some of his own men in plundering. With a small force he +defeated, in three different engagements, the rebels in Upper Austria, +though 40,000 strong. At the battle of Leipzic, he for a long time +delayed the defeat of Tilly by his bravery, and led the arms of the +Emperor on the Elbe and the Weser to victory. The wild impetuous fire +of his temperament, which no danger, however apparent, could cool, or +impossibilities check, made him the most powerful arm of the imperial +force, but unfitted him for acting at its head. The battle of Leipzic, +if Tilly may be believed, was lost through his rash ardor. At the +destruction of Magdeburg, his hands were deeply steeped in blood; war +rendered savage and ferocious his disposition, which had been +cultivated by youthful studies and various travels. On his forehead, +two red streaks, like swords, were perceptible, with which nature had +marked him at his very birth. Even in his later years these became +visible, as often as his blood was stirred by passion; and +superstition easily persuaded itself that the future destiny of the +man was thus impressed upon the forehead of the child. As a faithful +servant of the House of Austria, he had the strongest claims on the +gratitude of both its lines, but he did not survive to enjoy the most +brilliant proof of their regard. A messenger was already on his way +from Madrid, bearing to him the order of the Golden Fleece, when death +overtook him at Leipzic. + +Though _Te Deum_, in all Spanish and Austrian lands, was sung in honor +of a victory, Wallenstein himself, by the haste with which he quitted +Leipzic and, soon after, all Saxony, and by renouncing his original +design of fixing there his winter-quarters, openly confessed his +defeat. It is true he made one more feeble attempt to dispute, even in +his flight, the honor of victory, by sending out his Croats next +morning to the field; but the sight of the Swedish army drawn up in +order of battle, immediately dispersed these flying bands, and Duke +Bernard, by keeping possession of the field, and soon after by the +capture of Leipzic, maintained indisputably his claim to the title of +victor. + +But it was a dear conquest, a dearer triumph! It was not till the fury +of the contest was over that the full weight of the loss sustained was +felt and the shout of triumph died away into a silent gloom of +despair. He, who had led them to the charge, returned not with them: +there he lay upon the field which he had won, mingled with the dead +bodies of the common crowd. After a long and almost fruitless search, +the corpse of the king was discovered, not far from the great stone, +which, for a hundred years before, had stood between Lützen and the +Canal, and which, from the memorable disaster of that day, still bears +the name of the Stone of the Swede. Covered with blood and wounds so +as scarcely to be recognized, trampled beneath the horses' hoofs, +stripped by the rude hands of plunderers of its ornaments and clothes, +his body was drawn from beneath a heap of dead, conveyed to +Weissenfels, and there delivered up to the lamentations of his +soldiers and the last embraces of his queen. The first tribute had +been paid to revenge, and blood had atoned for the blood of the +monarch; but now affection assumes its rights, and tears of grief must +flow for the man. The universal sorrow absorbs all individual woes. +The generals, still stupefied by the unexpected blow, stood speechless +and motionless around his bier, and no one trusted himself enough to +contemplate the full extent of their loss. + +The Emperor, we are told by Khevenhuller, showed symptoms of deep, and +apparently sincere feeling, at the sight of the king's doublet stained +with blood, which had been stripped from him during the battle and +carried to Vienna. "Willingly," said he, "would I have granted to the +unfortunate prince a longer life and a safe return to his kingdom, had +Germany been at peace." But when a trait, which is nothing more than a +proof of a yet lingering humanity and which a mere regard to +appearances and even self-love would have extorted from the most +insensible, and the absence of which could exist only in the most +inhuman heart, has, by a Roman Catholic writer of modern times and +acknowledged merit, been made the subject of the highest eulogium and +compared with the magnanimous tears of Alexander for the fall of +Darius, our distrust is excited of the other virtues of the writer's +hero, and, what is still worse, of his own ideas of moral dignity. But +even such praise, whatever its amount, is much for one whose memory +his biographer has to clear from the suspicion of being privy to the +assassination of a king. + +It was scarcely to be expected that the strong leaning of mankind to +the marvelous would leave to the common course of nature the glory of +ending the career of Gustavus Adolphus. The death of so formidable a +rival was too important an event for the Emperor not to excite in his +bitter opponent a ready suspicion that what was so much to his +interests was also the result of his instigation. For the execution, +however, of this dark deed, the Emperor would require the aid of a +foreign arm, and this it was generally believed he had found in +Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg. The rank of the latter +permitted him a free access to the king's person, while at the same +time it seemed to place him above the suspicion of so foul a deed. +This prince, however, was in fact not incapable of this atrocity, and +he had, moreover, sufficient motives for its commission. + +Francis Albert, the youngest of four sons of Francis II., Duke of +Lauenburg, and related by the mother's side to the race of Vasa, had, +in his early years, found a most friendly reception at the Swedish +court. Some offence which he had committed against Gustavus Adolphus, +in the queen's chamber, was, it is said, repaid by this fiery youth +with a box on the ear; which, though immediately repented of, and +amply apologized for, laid the foundation of an irreconcilable hate in +the vindictive heart of the duke. Francis Albert subsequently entered +the imperial service, where he rose to the command of a regiment, +formed a close intimacy with Wallenstein, and condescended to be the +instrument of a secret negotiation with the Saxon court, which did +little honor to his rank. Without any sufficient cause being assigned, +he suddenly quitted the Austrian service, and appeared in the king's +camp at Nuremberg to offer his services as a volunteer. By his show of +zeal for the Protestant cause, and a prepossessing and flattering +deportment, he gained the heart of the king, who, warned in vain by +Oxenstiern, continued to lavish his favor and friendship on this +suspicious new comer. The battle of Lützen soon followed, in which +Francis Albert, like an evil genius, kept close to the king's side and +did not leave him till he fell. He owed, it was thought, his own +safety amidst the fire of the enemy, to a green sash which he wore, +the color of the Imperialists. He was at any rate the first to convey +to his friend Wallenstein the intelligence of the king's death. After +the battle, he exchanged the Swedish service for the Saxon; and, after +the murder of Wallenstein, being charged with being an accomplice of +that general, he escaped the sword of justice only by abjuring his +faith. His last appearance in life was as commander of an imperial +army in Silesia, where he died of the wounds he had received before +Schweidnitz. It requires some effort to believe in the innocence of a +man, who had run through a career like this, of the act charged +against him; but, however great may be the moral and physical +possibility of his committing such a crime, it must still be allowed +that there are no certain grounds for imputing it to him. Gustavus +Adolphus, it is well known, exposed himself to danger, like the +meanest soldier in his army, and where thousands fell, he, too, might +naturally meet his death. How it reached him, remains indeed buried in +mystery; but here, more than anywhere, does the maxim apply that where +the ordinary course of things is fully sufficient to account for the +fact, the honor of human nature ought not to be stained by any +suspicion of moral atrocity. + +But by whatever hand he fell, his extraordinary destiny must appear a +great interposition of Providence. History, too often confined to the +ungrateful task of analyzing the uniform play of human passions, is +occasionally rewarded by the appearance of events which strike, like a +hand from heaven, into the nicely adjusted machinery of human plans +and carry the contemplative mind to a higher order of things. Of this +kind is the sudden retirement of Gustavus Adolphus from the +scene--stopping for a time the whole movement of the political machine +and disappointing all the calculations of human prudence. Yesterday, +the very soul, the great and animating principle of his own creation; +today, struck unpitiably to the ground in the very midst of his eagle +flight; untimely torn from a whole world of great designs and from the +ripening harvest of his expectations, he left his bereaved party +disconsolate; and the proud edifice of his past greatness sunk into +ruins. The Protestant party had identified its hopes with its +invincible leader, and scarcely can it now separate them from him; +with him, they now fear all good fortune is buried. But it was no +longer the benefactor of Germany who fell at Lützen; the beneficient +part of his career Gustavus Adolphus had already terminated; and now +the greatest service which he could render to the liberties of Germany +was--to die. The all-engrossing power of an individual was at an end, +but many came forward to essay their strength; the equivocal +assistance of an over-powerful protector gave place to a more noble +self-exertion on the part of the Estates; and those who were formerly +the mere instruments of his aggrandizement now began to work for +themselves. They now looked to their own exertions for the +emancipation which could not be received without danger from the hand +of the mighty; and the Swedish power, now incapable of sinking into +the oppressor, was henceforth restricted to the more modest part of an +ally. + +The ambition of the Swedish monarch aspired unquestionably to +establish a power within Germany and to attain a firm footing in the +centre of the empire, which was inconsistent with the liberties of the +Estates. His aim was the imperial crown; and this dignity, supported +by his power and maintained by his energy and activity, would in his +hands be liable to more abuse than had ever been feared from the House +of Austria. Born in a foreign country, educated in the maxims of +arbitrary power, and by principles and enthusiasm a determined enemy +to Popery, he was ill qualified to maintain inviolate the constitution +of the German States, or to respect their liberties. The coercive +homage which Augsburg, with many other cities, was forced to pay to +the Swedish crown, bespoke the conqueror rather than the protector of +the empire; and this town, prouder of the title of a royal city than +of the higher dignity of the freedom of the empire, flattered itself +with the anticipation of becoming the capital of his future kingdom. +His ill-disguised attempts upon the Electorate of Mentz, which he +first intended to bestow upon the Elector of Brandenburg, as the dower +of his daughter Christina, and afterward destined for his chancellor +and friend Oxenstiern, evinced plainly what liberties he was disposed +to take with the constitution of the empire. His allies, the +Protestant princes, had claims on his gratitude, which could be +satisfied only at the expense of their Roman Catholic neighbors, and +particularly of the immediate Ecclesiastical Chapters; and it seems +probable a plan was early formed for dividing the conquered provinces +(after the precedent of the barbarian hordes who overran the German +empire) as a common spoil, among the German and Swedish confederates. +In his treatment of the Elector Palatine, he entirely belied the +magnanimity of the hero, and forgot the sacred character of a +protector. The Palatinate was in his hands, and the obligations both +of justice and honor demanded its full and immediate restoration to +the legitimate sovereign. But, by a subtlety unworthy of a great mind, +and disgraceful to the honorable title of protector of the oppressed, +he eluded that obligation. He treated the Palatinate as a conquest +wrested from the enemy, and thought that this circumstance gave him a +right to deal with it as he pleased. He surrendered it to the Elector +as a favor, not as a debt; and that, too, as a Swedish fief, fettered +by conditions which diminished half its value, and degraded this +unfortunate prince into a humble vassal of Sweden. One of these +conditions obliged the Elector, after the conclusion of the war, to +furnish, along with the other princes, his contribution toward the +maintenance of the Swedish army, a condition which plainly indicates +the fate which, in the event of the ultimate success of the king, +awaited Germany. His sudden disappearance secured the liberties of +Germany and saved his reputation, while it probably spared him the +mortification of seeing his own allies in arms against him and all the +fruits of his victories torn from him by a disadvantageous peace. +Saxony was already disposed to abandon him, Denmark viewed his success +with alarm and jealousy; and even France, the firmest and most potent +of his allies, terrified at the rapid growth of his power and the +imperious tone which he assumed, looked around for foreign alliances +at the very moment he passed the Lech in order to check the progress +of the Goths and restore to Europe the balance of power. + + * * * * * + + FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 59: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 60: Priests' plunder; alluding to the means by which the +expense of its erection had been defrayed.] + +[Footnote 61: A ton of gold in Sweden amounts to 100,000 rix dollars.] + +[Footnote 62: Gefreyter, a person exempt from watching duty, nearly +corresponding to the corporal.] + + * * * * * + + + + +ON THE USE OF THE CHORUS IN TRAGEDY (1803)[63] + +TRANSLATED BY A. LODGE + + +A Poetical work must vindicate itself--if the execution be defective, +little aid can be derived from commentaries. + +On these grounds, I might safely leave the Chorus to be its own +advocate, if we had ever seen it presented in an appropriate manner. +But it must be remembered that a dramatic composition first assumes +the character of a whole by means of representation on the stage. The +Poet supplies only the words, to which, in a lyrical tragedy, music +and rhythmical motion are essential accessories. It follows, then, +that if the Chorus is deprived of accompaniments appealing so +powerfully to the senses, it will appear a superfluity in the economy +of the drama--mere hindrance to the development of the +plot--destructive to the illusion of the scene and wearisome to the +spectators. To do justice to the Chorus, more especially if our aims +in Poetry be of a grand and elevated character, we must transport +ourselves from the actual to a possible stage. It is the privilege of +Art to furnish for itself whatever is requisite, and the accidental +deficiency of auxiliaries ought not to confine the plastic imagination +of the Poet. He aspires to whatever is most dignified, he labors to +realize the ideal in his own mind-though in the execution of his +purpose he must needs accommodate himself to circumstances. + +The assertion so commonly made, that the Public degrades Art, is not +well founded. It is the artist that brings the Public to the level of +his own conceptions; and, in every age in which Art has gone to decay, +it has fallen through its professors. The People need feeling alone, +and feeling they possess. They take their station before the curtain +with an unvoiced longing, with a multifarious capacity. They bring +with them an aptitude for what is highest--they derive the greatest +pleasure from what is judicious and true; and if, with these powers of +appreciation, they deign to be satisfied with inferior productions, +still, if they have once tasted what is excellent, they will, in the +end, insist on having it supplied to them. + +It is sometimes objected that the Poet may labor according to an +Ideal--that the critic may judge from ideas, but that mere executive +art is subject to contingencies and depends for effect on the +occasion. Managers will be obstinate; actors are bent on display--the +audience is inattentive and unruly. Their object is relaxation, and +they are disappointed if mental exertion be required, when they +expected only amusement. But if the Theatre be made instrumental +toward higher objects, the pleasure of the spectator will not be +increased, but ennobled. It will be a diversion, but a poetical one. +All Art is dedicated to pleasure, and there can be no higher and +worthier end than to make men happy. The true Art is that which +provides the highest degree of pleasure; and this consists in the +abandonment of the spirit to the free play of all its faculties. +Every one expects from the imaginative arts a certain emancipation +from the bounds of reality: we are willing to give a scope to Fancy, +and recreate ourselves with the possible. The man who expects it the +least will nevertheless forget his ordinary pursuits, his every-day +existence and individuality, and experience delight from uncommon +incidents: if he be of a serious turn of mind, he will acknowledge on +the stage that moral government of the world which he fails to +discover in real life. But he is, at the same time, perfectly aware +that all is an empty show, and that, in a true sense, he is feeding +only on dreams. When he returns from the theatre to the world of +realities, he is again compressed within its narrow bounds; he is its +denizen as before--for it remains what it was, and in him nothing has +been changed. What, then, has he gained beyond a momentary illusive +pleasure which vanished with the occasion? + +It is because a passing recreation is alone desired that a mere show +of truth is thought sufficient. I mean that probability or +vraisemblance which is so highly esteemed, but which the commonest +workers are able to substitute for the true. + +Art has for its object not merely to afford a transient pleasure, to +excite to a momentary dream of liberty; its aim is to make us +absolutely free; and this it accomplishes by awakening, exercising, +and perfecting in us a power to remove to an objective distance the +sensible world (which otherwise only burdens us as rugged matter and +presses us down with a brute influence); to transform it into the free +working of our spirit, and thus acquire a dominion over the material +by means of ideas. For the very reason also that true Art requires +somewhat of the objective and real, it is not satisfied with a show of +truth. It rears its ideal edifice on Truth itself--on the solid and +deep foundations of Nature. + +But how Art can be at once altogether ideal, yet in the strictest +sense real; how it can entirely leave the actual, and yet harmonize +with Nature, is a problem to the multitude; hence the distorted views +which prevail in regard to poetical and plastic works for to ordinary +judgments these two requisites seem to counteract each other. + +It is commonly supposed that one may be attained by the sacrifice of +the other--the result is a failure to arrive at either. One to whom +Nature has given a true sensibility, but denied the plastic +imaginative power, will be a faithful painter of the real; he will +adapt casual appearances, but never catch the spirit of Nature. He +will only reproduce to us the matter of the world, which, not being +our own work, the product of our creative spirit, can never have the +beneficent operation of Art, of which the essence is freedom. Serious, +indeed, but unpleasing, is the cast of thought with which such an +artist and poet dismisses us; we feel ourselves painfully thrust back +into the narrow sphere of reality by means of the very art which ought +to have emancipated us. On the other hand, a writer, endowed with a +lively fancy, but destitute of warmth and individuality of feeling, +will not concern himself in the least about truth; he will sport with +the stuff of the world, and endeavor to surprise by whimsical +combinations; and as his whole performance is nothing but foam and +glitter, he will, it is true, engage the attention for a time, but +build up and confirm nothing in the understanding. His playfulness is, +like the gravity of the other, thoroughly unpoetical. To string +together at will fantastical images, is not to travel into the realm +of the ideal; and the imitative reproduction of the actual cannot be +called the representation of nature. Both requisites stand so little +in contradiction to each other that they are rather one and the same +thing; that Art is true only as it altogether forsakes the actual and +becomes purely ideal. Nature herself is an idea of the mind, and is +never presented to the senses. She lies under the veil of appearances, +but is herself never apparent. To the art of the ideal alone is lent, +or rather, absolutely given, the privilege to grasp the spirit of the +All and bind it in a corporeal form. + +Yet, in truth, even Art cannot present it to the senses, but by means +of her creative power to the imaginative faculty alone; and it is thus +that she becomes more true than all reality, and more real than all +experience. It follows from these premises that the artist can use no +single element taken from reality as he finds it--that his work must +be ideal in all its parts, if it be designed to have, as it were, an +intrinsic reality and to harmonize with nature. + +What is true of Art and Poetry, in the abstract, holds good as to +their various kinds; and we may apply what has been advanced to the +subject of tragedy. In this department, it is still necessary to +controvert the ordinary notion of the natural, with which poetry is +altogether incompatible. A certain ideality has been allowed in +painting, though, I fear, on grounds rather conventional than +intrinsic; but in dramatic works what is desired is illusion, which, +if it could be accomplished by means of the actual, would be, at best, +a paltry deception. All the externals of a theatrical representation +are opposed to this notion; all is merely a symbol of the real. The +day itself in a theatre is an artificial one; the metrical dialogue is +itself ideal; yet the conduct of the play must forsooth be real, and +the general effect sacrificed to a part. Thus the French, who have +utterly misconceived the spirit of the ancients, adopted on their +stage the unities of time and place in the most common and empirical +sense; as though there were any place but the bare ideal one, or any +other time than the mere sequence of the incidents. + +By the introduction of a metrical dialogue an important progress has +been made toward the poetical Tragedy. A few lyrical dramas have been +successful on the stage, and Poetry, by its own living energy, has +triumphed over prevailing prejudices. But so long as these erroneous +views are entertained little has been done--for it is not enough +barely to tolerate as a poetic license that which is, in truth, the +essence of all poetry. The introduction of the Chorus would be the +last and decisive step; and if it only served this end, namely, to +declare open and honorable warfare against naturalism in art, it would +be for us a living wall which Tragedy had drawn around herself, to +guard her from contact with the world of reality, and maintain her own +ideal soil, her poetical freedom. + +It is well known that the Greek tragedy had its origin in the Chorus; +and though, in process of time, it became independent, still it may be +said that poetically, and in spirit, the Chorus was the source of its +existence, and that without these persevering supporters and witnesses +of the incident a totally different order of poetry would have grown +out of the drama. The abolition of the Chorus, and the debasement of +this sensibly powerful organ into the characterless substitute of a +confidant, is, by no means, such an improvement in tragedy as the +French, and their imitators, would have it supposed to be. + +The old Tragedy, which at first only concerned itself with gods, +heroes and kings, introduced the Chorus as an essential accompaniment. +The poets found it in nature, and for that reason employed it. It grew +out of the poetical aspect of real life. In the new Tragedy it becomes +an organ of art which aids in making the poetry prominent. The modern +poet no longer finds the Chorus in nature; he must needs create and +introduce it poetically; that is, he must resolve on such an +adaptation of his story as will admit of its retrocession to those +primitive times and to that simple form of life. + +The Chorus thus renders more substantial service to the modern +dramatist than to the old poet--and for this reason, that it +transforms the commonplace actual world into the old poetical one; +that it enables him to dispense with all that is repugnant to poetry, +and conducts him back to the most simple, original, and genuine +motives of action. The palaces of kings are in these days +closed-courts of justice have been transferred from the gates of +cities to the interior of buildings; writing has narrowed the province +of speech; the people itself--the sensibly living mass--when it does +not operate as brute force, has become a part of the civil polity, and +thereby an abstract idea in our minds; the deities have returned +within the bosoms of mankind. The poet must reopen the palaces--he +must place courts of justice beneath the canopy of heaven--restore the +gods, reproduce every extreme which the artificial frame of actual +life has abolished--throw aside every factitious influence on the mind +or condition of man which impedes the manifestation of his inward +nature and primitive character, as the statuary rejects modern +costume, and of all external circumstances adopts nothing but what is +palpable in the highest of forms--that of humanity. But precisely as +the painter throws around his figures draperies of ample volume, to +fill up the space of his picture richly and gracefully, to arrange its +several parts in harmonious masses, to give due play to color, which +charms and refreshes the eye--and at once to envelop human forms in a +spiritual veil, and make them visible--so the tragic poet inlays and +entwines his rigidly contracted plot and the strong outlines of his +characters with a tissue of lyrical magnificence, in which, as in +flowing robes of purple, they move freely and nobly, with a sustained +dignity and exalted repose. + +In a higher organization, the material, or the elementary, need not be +visible; the chemical color vanishes in the finer tints of the +imaginative one. The material, however, has its peculiar effect, and +may be included in an artistical com position. But it must deserve its +place by animation, fulness and harmony, and give value to the ideal +forms which it surrounds, instead of stifling them by its weight. + +In respect of the pictorial art, this is obvious to ordinary +apprehension, yet in poetry likewise, and in the tragical kind, which +is our immediate subject, the same doctrine holds good. Whatever +fascinates the senses alone is mere matter and the rude element of a +work of art:--if it take the lead it will inevitably destroy the +poetical--which lies at the exact medium between the ideal and the +sensible. But man is so constituted that he is ever impatient to pass +from what is fanciful to what is common; and reflection must, +therefore, have its place even in tragedy. But to merit this place it +must, by means of delivery, recover what it wants in actual life; for +if the two elements of poetry, the ideal and the sensible, do not +operate with an inward mutuality, they must at least act as allies--or +poetry is out of the question. If the balance be not intrinsically +perfect, the equipoise can be maintained only by an agitation of both +scales. + +This is what the Chorus effects in tragedy. It is, in itself, not an +individual but a general conception; yet it is represented by a +palpable body which appeals to the senses with an imposing grandeur. +It forsakes the contracted sphere of the incidents to dilate itself +over the past and future, over distant times and nations and general +humanity, to deduce the grand results of life, and pronounce the +lessons of wisdom. But all this it does with the full power of +fancy--with a bold lyrical freedom which ascends, as with godlike +step, to the topmost height of worldly things; and it effects it in +conjunction with the whole sensible influence of melody and rhythm, in +tones and movements. + +The Chorus thus exercises a purifying influence on tragic poetry, +insomuch as it keeps reflection apart from the incidents, and by this +separation arms it with a poetical vigor; as the painter, by means of +a rich drapery, changes the ordinary poverty of costume into a charm +and an ornament. + +But as the painter finds himself obliged to strengthen the tone of +color of the living subject, in order to counter-balance the material +influences--so the--lyrical effusions of the Chorus impose upon the +poet the necessity of a proportionate elevation of his general +diction. It is the Chorus alone which entitles the poet to employ +this fulness of tone, which at once charms the senses, pervades the +spirit, and expands the mind. This one giant form on his canvas +obliges him to mount all his figures on the cothurnus, and thus impart +a tragical grandeur to his picture. If the Chorus be taken away, the +diction of the tragedy must generally be lowered, or what is now great +and majestic will appear forced and overstrained. The old Chorus +introduced into the French tragedy would present it in all its poverty +and reduce it to nothing; yet, without doubt, the same accomplishment +would impart to Shakespeare's tragedy its true significance. + +As the Chorus gives life to the language--so also it gives repose to +the action; but it is that beautiful and lofty repose which is the +characteristic of a true work of art. For the mind of the spectator +ought to maintain its freedom through the most impassioned scenes; it +should not be the mere prey of impressions, but calmly and severely +detach itself from the emotions which it suffers. The commonplace +objection made to the Chorus that it disturbs the illusion and blunts +the edge of the feelings, is what constitutes its highest +recommendation; for it is this blind force of the affections which the +true artist deprecates this illusion is what he disdains to excite. If +the strokes which Tragedy inflicts on our bosoms followed without +respite--the passion would overpower the action. We should mix +ourselves up with the subject-matter, and no longer stand above it. It +is by holding asunder the different parts, and stepping between the +passions with its composing views, that the Chorus restores to us our +freedom, which would else be lost in the tempest. The characters of +the drama need this intermission in order to collect themselves; for +they are no real beings who obey the impulse of the moment, and +merely represent individuals--but ideal persons and representatives of +their species, who enunciate the deep things of Humanity. + +Thus much on my attempt to revive the old Chorus on the tragic stage. +It is true that choruses are not unknown to modern tragedy; but the +Chorus of the Greek drama, as I have employed it--the Chorus, as a +single ideal person, furthering and accompanying the whole plot--is of +an entirely distinct character; and when, in discussion on the Greek +tragedy, I hear mention made of choruses, I generally suspect the +speaker's ignorance of his subject. In my view the Chorus has never +been reproduced since the decline of the old tragedy. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 63: Permission G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., London, and The +Macmillan Co., New York.] + + * * * * * + + + + +SCHILLER-GOETHE CORRESPONDENCE[64] + +TRANSLATED BY L. DORA SCHMITZ + + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, August 23, 1794. + +I yesterday received the welcome news that you had returned from your +journey. We may therefore hope to see you among us again soon, which +I, on my part, most heartily wish. My recent conversations with you +have put the whole store of my ideas in motion, for they related to a +subject which has actively engaged my thoughts for some years past. +Many things upon which I could not come to a right understanding with +myself have received new and unexpected light from the contemplation I +have had of your mind (for so I must call the general impression of +your ideas upon me). I needed the _object_, the body, for several of +my speculative ideas, and you have put me on the track of finding it. +Your calm and clear way of looking at things keeps you from getting on +the by-roads into which speculation as well as arbitrary +imagination--which merely follows its own bent--are so apt to lead one +astray. Your correct intuition grasps all things, and that far more +perfectly than what is laboriously sought for by analysis; and merely +because this lies within you as a whole, is the wealth of your mind +concealed from yourself. For, alas! we know only that which we can +take to pieces. Minds like yours, therefore, seldom know how far they +have penetrated and how little cause they have to borrow from +philosophy, which, in fact, can learn only from them. Philosophy can +merely dissect what is given it, but the giving itself is not the work +of the analyzer but of genius, which combines things according to +objective laws under the obscure but safe influence of pure reason. + +[Illustration: MONUMENT TO GOETHE AND SCHILLER IN WEIMAR] + +Although I have done so at a distance, I have long watched the course +which your mind has pursued, and have observed, with ever renewed +admiration, the path which you have marked out for yourself. You seek +for the necessary in nature, but you seek it by the most difficult +route--one which all weaker minds would take care to avoid. You look +at Nature as a whole, when seeking to get light thrown upon her +individual parts; you look for the explanation of the individual in +the totality of her various manifestations. From the simple organism +you ascend step by step to those that are more complex, in order, in +the end, genetically to form the most complicate of all--man--out of +the materials of nature as a whole. By thus, as it were, imitating +nature in creating him, you try to penetrate into his hidden +structure. This is a great and truly heroic idea, which sufficiently +shows how your mind keeps the whole wealth of its conceptions in one +beautiful unity. You can never have expected that your life would +suffice to attain such an end, but to have struck out such a path is +worth more than reaching the end of any other; and you, like Achilles +in the Iliad, made your choice between Phthia and immortality. Had you +been born a Greek, or even an Italian, and had you from infancy been +placed in the midst of choice natural surroundings and of an +idealizing Art, your path would have been infinitely shortened, +perhaps even have been rendered entirely superfluous. Had such been +the case, you would, on your first perception of things, have taken up +the form of the Necessary, and the grand style would have been +developed in you with your first experience. But being born a German, +and your Grecian spirit having been cast in this Northern mold, you +had no other choice but either to become a Northern artist; or, by the +help of the power of thought, to supply your imagination with what +reality withheld from it, and thus, as it were, to produce a Greek +from within by a reasoning process. At that period of life when the +soul, surrounded by defective forms, constructs its own inward nature +out of outward circumstances, you had already assumed a wild Northern +nature, and your victorious genius, rising above its materials, then +discovered this want from within, and became convinced of it from +without through its acquaintance with Greek nature. You had then, in +accordance with the better model which your developing mind created +for itself, to correct your old and less perfect nature, and this +could be effected only by following leading ideas. However, this +_logical_ direction which a reflecting mind is forced to pursue, is +not very compatible with the _esthetic_ state of mind by which alone a +reflecting mind becomes creative. You, therefore, had one task more: +for inasmuch as your mind had passed over from intuition to +abstraction, so you had now to go back and retranslate ideas into +intuitions, and to change thoughts into feelings; for it is only +through the latter that genius can be productive. + +It is somewhat in this manner that I imagine the course pursued by +your mind, and whether I am right or not you will yourself know best. +However, what you yourself can scarcely be aware of (as genius ever +remains the greatest mystery to itself) is the beautiful harmony +between your philosophical instinct and the purest results of your +speculative reason. Upon a first view it does indeed seem as if there +could not be any greater opposites than the speculative mind which +proceeds from unity, and the intuitive mind which proceeds from +variety. If, however, the former seeks experience with a pure and +truthful spirit, and the latter seeks law with self-active and free +power of thought, then the two cannot fail to meet each other half +way. It is true that the intuitive mind has only to deal with +individuals, the speculative mind only with species. But if the +intuitive mind is that of a genius and seeks the nature of the +Necessary in experience, then individuals will be produced, it is +true, but they will possess the character of the species; and again, +if the speculative mind is that of a genius, and does not lose sight +of experience when rising above it, then it will indeed produce +species only, but with the possibility of individual life and with a +well-founded relation to actual objects. + +But I find that in place of sending you a letter I am writing an +essay--pray excuse this, and ascribe it to the lively interest with +which the subject has filled me; and should you not recognize your +own image in this mirror, do not on that account flee from it, I pray. +* * * + +Diderot's work[65], especially the first part, is very interesting, +and, considering the subject, is handled with edifying delicacy. I beg +to be permitted to keep this book for a few days longer. + +It would, I think, be well if we could now soon start the new +periodical, and you would perhaps be kind enough to let the first +number be opened with something of yours. I, therefore, take the +liberty of asking you whether you would be willing to let your +novel[66] appear in our journal in successive numbers? But whether you +determine to let us have it or not, I should consider it a very great +favor to be allowed to read it. + +My friends and my wife commend themselves to your kind remembrance. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Ettersburg, August 27, 1794. + +On the anniversary of my birthday, which took place this week, I could +not have received a more acceptable gift than the letter in which you +give the sum of my existence in so friendly a manner, and in which, by +your sympathy, you encourage me to a more assiduous and active use of +my powers. + +Pure enjoyment and true usefulness can only be reciprocal, and it will +be a pleasure to me to unfold to you at leisure what your conversation +has been to me; how I, too, regard those days as an epoch in my life, +and how contented I feel in having gone on my way without any +particular encouragement; for it seems to me that, after so unexpected +a meeting, we cannot but wander on in life together. I have always +prized the frank and rare earnestness which is displayed in all that +you have written and done, and I may now claim to be made acquainted +by yourself with the course taken by your own mind, more especially +during these latter years. If we make it clear to each other to which +point we have thus far attained, the better able we shall be to work +on together without interruption. + +All that relates to myself I will gladly communicate to you; for, +being fully conscious that my undertaking far exceeds the measure of +human capabilities and their earthly duration, I should like to +deposit many things with you, and thereby not only preserve them but +give them life. + +Of what great advantage your sympathy will be to me you will yourself +soon perceive, when, upon a closer acquaintance, you discover in me a +kind of obscurity and hesitation which I cannot entirely master, +although distinctly aware of their existence. Such phenomena, however, +are often found in our natures, and we quietly submit to them as long +as they do not become too tyrannical. + +I hope to be able to spend some time with you soon, when we shall talk +over many things. + +Unfortunately, a few weeks before receiving your proposal, I had given +my novel to Unger,[67] and the first proof sheets have already come to +hand. I have more than once thought, during these last days, that it +would have been very suitable for your periodical. It is the only +thing I have by me of any size, and is a kind of problematical work +such as the good Germans like. + +I will send the first Book as soon as I get all the proof sheets. It +is so long since it was written that, in the actual sense of the word, +I may be said to be only the editor. + +[Illustration: + + The highest aim he reached + on soaring pinion + Closely allied to all we value most + Thus honor him! What life but + scantily + To Genius yields, in full shall + give Posterity. + +Goethe on Schiller.] + +If, among my projects, there were anything that would serve the +purpose you mention, we should, I think, easily agree as to the most +appropriate form to put it in, and there should be no delay in my +working it out. Farewell, and remember me to your circle. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, August 31, 1794. + +On my return from Weissenfels, where I met my friend Körner from +Dresden, I received your last letter but one, the contents of which +pleased me for two reasons; for I perceive from it that the view I +took of your mind coincides with your own feelings, and that you were +not displeased with the candor with which I allowed my heart to +express itself. Our acquaintance, although it comes late, awakens in +me many a delightful hope, and is to me another proof of how much +better it often is to let chance have its way than to forestall it +with too much officiousness. Great as my desire always was to become +more closely acquainted with you than is possible between the spirit +of a writer and his most attentive reader, I now clearly see that the +very different paths upon which you and I have moved could not, with +any advantage to ourselves, have brought us together sooner than at +the present time. I now hope, however, that we may travel over the +rest of our life's way together, and, moreover, do this with more than +usual advantage to each other, inasmuch as the last travelers who join +company on a long journey have always the most to say to each other. + +Do not expect to find any great store of ideas in me; this is what I +shall find in you. My need and endeavor are to make much out of +little, and, when you once come to know my poverty in all so-called +acquired knowledge, you will perhaps find that I have sometimes +succeeded in doing this; for, the circle of my ideas being small, I +can the more rapidly and the more frequently run through it; for that +very reason I can use my small resources with more effect, and can, by +means of form, produce that variety which is wanting in the +subject-matter. You strive to simplify your great world of ideas; I +seek variety for my small means. You have to govern a whole realm, I +but a somewhat numerous family of ideas, which I would be heartily +glad to be able to extend into a little world. + +Your mind works intuitively to an extraordinary degree, and all your +thinking powers appear, as it were, to have come to an agreement with +your imagination to be their common representative. In reality, this +is the most that a man can make of himself if only he succeeds in +generalizing his perceptions and making his feelings his supreme law. +This is what you have endeavored to do, and what in a great measure +you have already attained. My understanding works more in a +symbolizing method, and thus I hover, as a hybrid, between ideas and +intentions, between law and feeling, between a technical mind and +genius. This it is that, particularly in my earlier years, gave me a +rather awkward appearance both in the field of speculation and in that +of poetry; for the poetic mind generally got the better of me when I +ought to have philosophized, and my philosophical mind when I wished +to poetize. Even now it frequently enough happens that imagination +intrudes upon my abstractions, and cold reason upon my poetical +productions. If I could obtain such mastery over these two powers as +to assign to each its limits, I might yet look forward to a happy +fate; but, alas! just when I have begun to know and to use my moral +powers rightly, illness seizes me and threatens to undermine my +physical powers. I can scarcely hope to have time to complete any +great and general mental revolution in myself; but I will do what I +can, and when, at last, the building falls, I shall, perhaps, after +all, have snatched from the ruins what was most worthy of being +preserved. + +You expressed a wish that I should speak of myself, and I have made +use of the permission. I make these confessions to you in +confidence, and venture to hope that you will receive them in a kindly +spirit. + +I shall today refrain from entering into details about your essay, +which will at once lead our conversations on this subject upon the +most fertile track. My own researches--entered upon by a different +path--have led me to a result rather similar to that at which you have +arrived, and in the accompanying papers you will perhaps find ideas +which coincide with your own. I wrote them about a year and a half +ago, for which reason, as well as on account of the occasion for which +they were penned (they were intended for an indulgent friend), there +is some excuse for their crudeness of form. These ideas have, indeed, +since then, received in me a better foundation and greater precision, +and this may possibly bring them much nearer to yours. + +I cannot sufficiently regret that _Wilhelm Meister_ is lost to our +periodical. However, I hope that your fertile mind and friendly +interest in our undertaking will give us some compensation for this +loss, whereby the admirers of your genius will be double gainers. In +the number of the _Thalia_ which I herewith send you, you will find +some ideas of Körner's on Declamation, which, I think, will please +you. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, January 7, 1795. + +Accept my best thanks for the copy of the novel you have sent me. The +feeling which penetrates and takes hold of me with increasing force +the further I read on in this work, I cannot better express in words +than by calling it a delicious, inward sense of comfort, a feeling of +mental and bodily well-being, and I will vouch that this will be the +effect produced upon all readers. + +This sense of comfort I account for from the calm clearness, +smoothness, and transparency which pervade the whole of your work, and +which leave nothing to disturb or to dissatisfy the mind, and the mind +is not more excited than is necessary to fan and maintain a joyous +life. Of the individual parts I shall say nothing till I have seen the +Third Book, which I am looking forward to with longing. + +I cannot express to you what a painful feeling it often is to me to +pass from a work of this kind into one of a philosophical character. +In the former all is so joyous, so alive, so harmoniously evolved, and +so true to human life; in the latter all is so stern, so rigid, +abstract, and so extremely unnatural; for all nature is synthesis, and +philosophy but antithesis. I can, in fact, give proof of having been +as true to nature in my speculations as is compatible with the idea of +analysis; indeed, I have perhaps been more faithful to her than our +Kantians would consider permissible or possible. But still I am no +less fully conscious of the infinite difference between Life and +Reasoning, and cannot, in such melancholy moments, help perceiving a +want in my own nature which in happier hours I am forced to think of +only as a natural duality of the thing itself. This much, however, is +certain--the poet is the only true man, and the best philosopher is +but a caricature in comparison with him. + +I need scarcely assure you that I am in the utmost anxiety to know +what you have to say to my philosophy of the Beautiful. As the +Beautiful itself is derived from man as a whole, so my analysis of it +is drawn from _my_ own whole being, and I cannot but be deeply +interested in knowing how this accords with yours. + +Your presence here will be a source of nourishment both to my mind and +my heart. Especially great is my longing to enjoy some poetical works +in common with you. + +[Illustration: Schiller on Goethe] + +You promised to let me hear some of your epigrams when an opportunity +occurred. It would be a great and additional pleasure to me if this +could be done during your approaching visit to Jena, as it is still +very uncertain when I may be able to get to W. + +Just as I am about to close comes the welcome continuation of your +_Meister_. A thousand thanks for it! + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Weimar, November 21, 1795. + +Today I received twenty-one of Propertius' elegies from Knebel and +shall look them over carefully and then let the translator know where +I find anything to object to; for, as he has given himself so much +trouble, nothing ought, perhaps, to be altered without his sanction. + +I wish you could induce Cotta to pay for this manuscript at once; it +could easily be calculated how many sheets it would print. I have, it +is true, no actual occasion to ask this, but it would look much +better, would encourage energetic coöperation, and also help in making +the good name of the _Horen_ better known. A publisher has often +enough to pay money in advance, so Cotta might surely once in a way +pay upon the receipt of a manuscript. Knebel wants the Elegies to be +divided into three contributions; I, too, think this the right +proportion, and we should thus have the first three numbers of next +year's _Horen_ nicely adorned. I will see to it that you get them in +proper time. + +Have you seen Stolberg's abominable preface to his Platonic +discourses? The disclosures he there makes are so insipid and +intolerable that I feel very much inclined to step out and chastise +him. It would be a very simple matter to hold up to view the senseless +unreasonableness of this stupid set of people, if, in so doing, one +had but a rational public on one's side; this would at the same time +be a declaration of war against that superficiality which it has now +become necessary to combat in every department of learning. The secret +feuds of suppressing, misplacing, and misprinting, which it has +carried on against us, have long deserved that this declaration should +be held in honorable remembrance, and that continuously. + +I find this doubly necessary and unavoidable in the case of my +scientific works, which I am gradually getting into order. I intend to +speak out my mind pretty frankly against reviewers, journalists, +collectors of magazines, and writers of abridgments, and, in a prelude +or prolog, openly to declare myself against the public; in this +instance, especially, I do not intend to allow any one's opposition or +reticence to pass. + +What do you say, for instance, to Lichtenberg, with whom I have had +some correspondence about the optical subjects we spoke of, and with +whom, besides, I am on pretty good terms, not even mentioning my +essays in his new edition of Erxleben's Compendium, especially as a +new edition of a compendium is surely issued in order to introduce the +latest discoveries, and these gentlemen are usually quick enough in +noting down everything in their interleaved books! How many different +ways there are of dispatching a work like this, even though it were +but done in a passing manner I However, at the present moment, my +cunning brains cannot think of any one of these ways. + +I am, at present, very far from being in anything like an esthetic or +sentimental mood, so what is to become of my poor novel? Meanwhile, I +am making use of my time as best I can, and my comfort is that, at so +low an ebb, one may hope that the flood is about to return. + +Your dear letter reached me safely, and I thank you for your sympathy, +which I felt sure you would give me. In such cases one hardly knows +what is best to do--to let grief take its natural course or to fortify +oneself with the assistance which culture gives us. If one determines +to follow the latter course--as I always do--one feels better merely +for the moment, and. I have noticed that Nature always reasserts her +rights in other ways. + +The Sixth Book of my novel has made a good impression here also; to be +sure, the poor reader never knows what he is about with works of this +kind, for he does not consider that he would probably never take them +up had not the author contrived to get the better of his thinking +powers, his feelings, and his curiosity. + +Your testimony in favor of my tale I prize very highly, and I shall +henceforth work with more confidence at this species of composition. + +The last volume of my novel cannot in any case appear before +Michaelmas; it would be well if we could arrange the plans we lately +discussed in reference to this. + +My new story can, I think, hardly be ready by December, and, +moreover, I can scarcely venture to pass on to it till I have, in some +way or other, written something in explanation of the first. If, by +December, I could write something of this kind neatly, I should be +very glad of thus being able to give you a contribution for next +year's opening number. Farewell. May we long enjoy having around us +those who are nearest and dearest to us. Toward New Year's I hope +again to spend some time with you. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER to GOETHE + +Jena, July 2, 1796. + +I have now run through all the eight Books of your novel, very +hurriedly, it is true, but the subject-matter alone is so large that I +could scarcely get through it in two days' reading. Properly speaking, +therefore, I ought not to say anything about it even today, for the +surprising and unparalleled variety which is therein _concealed_--in +the strictest sense of the word--is overpowering. I confess that what +I have as yet grasped correctly is but the _continuity_, not the +_unity_, although I do not for a moment doubt that I shall become +perfectly clear on this point also, if, as I think, in works of this +kind, the continuity is more than half the unity. + +As, under the circumstances, you cannot exactly expect to receive from +me anything thoroughly satisfactory and yet wish to hear something, +you must be content with a few remarks; these, however, are not +altogether without value, inasmuch as they will tell of direct +impressions. To make up for this, I promise you that our discussions +about your novel shall continue throughout the month. To give an +adequate and truly esthetic estimate of a whole work, as a work of +art, is a serious undertaking. I shall devote the whole of the next +four months to it, and that with pleasure. Besides this, it is one of +the greatest blessings of my existence that I have lived to see this +work of yours completed, that it has been written while my faculties +are still in a state of growth, and that I may draw inspiration from +this pure source; further, the beautiful relation that exists between +us makes it seem to me a kind of religious duty to call your cause my +own, and to develop all that is real in my nature so fully that my +mind may become the clearest mirror of what exists beneath this +covering, and that I may deserve the name of being your friend in the +higher sense of the word. How vividly have I felt, at this time, that +excellence is a power, that it can influence selfish natures only as a +power, and that, as contrasted with excellence, there is no freedom +but love! + +I cannot say how much I have been moved by the truth, the beautiful +vitality, and the simple fulness of your work. My agitation, it is +true, is greater than it will be when I have completely mastered your +subject, and that will be an important crisis in my intellectual life; +but yet this agitation is the effect of the Beautiful and only of the +Beautiful, and is merely the result of my reason not having yet been +able to master my feelings. I now quite understand what you meant by +saying that it was the Beautiful, the True, that could often move you +to tears. Calm and deep, clear and yet incomprehensible, like nature, +your work makes its influence felt; it stands there, and even the +smallest secondary incident shows the beautiful equanimity from which +all has emanated. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER RECITING FROM HIS WORKS TO HIS WEIMAR FRIENDS] + +But I cannot, as yet, find words to describe these impressions, and, +moreover, I must today confine myself to the Eighth Book. How well you +have succeeded in bringing the large and widely extended circle, the +different attitudes and scenes of the events, so closely together +again! Your work may be compared to a beautiful planetary system; +everything belongs together, and it is only the Italian figures which, +like comets and as weirdly as they, connect the system with one that +is more remote and larger. Further, these figures, as also Marianna +and Aurelia, run wholly out of this system again, and, after having +merely served to produce a poetical movement in it, separate +themselves from it as foreign individuals. How beautifully conceived +it is to derive what is practically monstrous and terribly pathetic in +the fate of Mignon and the Harpist from what is theoretically +monstrous, from the abortions of the understanding, so that nothing is +thereby laid to the charge of pure and healthy nature! Senseless +superstition alone gives birth to such monstrous fates as pursue +Mignon and the Harpist. Even Aurelia's ruin is but the result of her +own unnaturalness, her masculine nature. Toward Marianna alone could I +accuse you of poetic selfishness. I could almost say she has been made +a sacrifice to the novel, as the nature of the case would not permit +of her being saved. Her fate, therefore, will ever draw forth bitter +tears, while in the case of the three others the reader will gladly +turn from what is individual to the idea of the whole. + +Wilhelm's false relationship to Theresa is admirably conceived, +motivated, and worked out, and still more admirably turned to account. +Many a reader will at first be actually alarmed at it, for I can +promise Theresa but few wellwishers; all the more beautiful is the way +in which the reader is rescued from this state of uneasiness. I cannot +imagine how this false relation could have been dissolved more +tenderly, more delicately, or more nobly. How pleased Richardson and +all his set would have been had you made a scene out of it and been +highly indelicate in the display of delicate sentiments! I have but +one little objection to raise: Theresa's courageous and determined +resistance to the person who wishes to rob her of her lover, even +although the possibility is thereby reopened to her of possessing +Lothar, is quite in accordance with nature, and is excellent; further, +I think there are good reasons for Wilhelm's showing deep indignation +and a certain amount of pain at the banterings of his fellowmen and of +fate--but it seems to me that he ought to complain less deeply of the +loss of a happiness which had already ceased to be anything of the +kind to him. In Natalie's presence, as it seems to me, his regained +freedom ought to be to him a greater happiness than he allows it to +be. I am quite aware of the complication of this state of things and +what is demanded by _delicatesse_, but, on the other hand, Natalie may +in some measure be said to be hurt by this same _delicatesse_ when, in +her presence, Wilhelm is allowed to lament over the loss of Theresa. + +One other thing I specially admire in the concatenation of the events +is the great good which you have contrived to draw from Wilhelm's +already-mentioned false relation to Theresa so as most speedily to +bring about the true and desired end, the union of Natalie and +Wilhelm. In no other manner could this end have been arrived at so +well and so naturally as by the path you have pursued, although this +very path threatened to lead from it. It can now be maintained, with +the most perfect innocence and purity, that Wilhelm and Natalie belong +to each other; and Theresa's letters to Natalie lead up to this +beautifully. Such contrivances are of the greatest beauty, for they +unite all that could be desired, nay, all that appeared wholly +ununitable; they complicate, and yet carry the solution in themselves; +they produce restlessness, and yet lead to repose; they succeed in +reaching the goal, while appearing to be making every effort to keep +from it. + +Mignon's death, although we are prepared for it, affects one +powerfully and deeply--so deeply, in fact, that many will think you +quit the subject too abruptly. This, upon first reading it, was a very +decided feeling in my own case; but, on reading it a second time, when +surprise had subsided, I felt it less, and yet I fear that you may +have, in this, gone a hair's breadth too far. Mignon, before her end, +had begun to appear more womanly and softer, and thus to have become +more interesting in herself; the repulsive heterogeneity of her nature +had relaxed, and with this relaxation some of her impetuosity had +likewise disappeared. Her last song, especially, melts one's heart to +the most intense sympathy. Hence it strikes one as odd that, directly +upon the affecting scene of her death, the doctor should make an +experiment upon her corpse, and that this living being should so soon +be able to forget the person, merely in order to regard her as the +instrument of a scientific inquiry. It strikes one as being equally +strange that Wilhelm--who, after all, is the cause of her death, and +is aware of it--should at that moment notice the instrument-case and +be lost in the recollection of past scenes, when the present should +have so wholly absorbed him. + +You may, in this case also, justify yourself as having been quite true +to nature, but I doubt whether you will be able to do this as regards +the "sentimental" demands of your readers; and therefore--in order +that nothing should interfere with the reader's acceptance of a scene +which is so splendidly motivated and so well worked out--I would +advise you to pay some attention to it. + +Otherwise, I find everything you do with Mignon, when living as well +as when dead, most uncommonly beautiful. This pure and poetic creature +is specially and excellently qualified to have so poetical a funeral. +In her isolated condition, her mysterious existence, her purity and +innocence, she is so truly a representative of the period of life in +which she stands that she moves one to a feeling of unmixed sadness +and genuine human sorrow, for nothing but pure humanity was manifested +in her. That which, in every other individual, would be inconsistent, +nay, in a certain sense, revolting, is, in her, sublime and noble. + +I should have liked to see the appearance of the Marquis in the family +motivated by something more than his mere dilettanteism in art. He is +too indispensable to the development, and the _need_ of his +interference might easily have been made more conspicuous than the +inner necessity. You have yourself spoilt the reader by the +arrangement of the rest of your work, and have justified him in making +greater demands than can generally be required of novel writers. Could +not the Marquis be made an old acquaintance of Lothar or of the Uncle, +and his journey hither be more interwoven with the whole? + +The end, as well as the whole history of the Harpist, excites the +greatest interest. I have already said how excellent I find your +thought of deriving the terrible destinies of the Harpist and of +Mignon from religious extravagance. The priest's notion of describing +a small transgression as monstrous, in order that a great crime--which +he will not mention for humanity's sake--may be atoned for by it, is +sublime of its kind and a worthy representative of this whole mode of +thinking. You might perhaps make Sperate's story a little shorter +still, as it comes in at the end where one is prone to hurry +impatiently to the goal. + +That the Harpist should prove to be Mignon's father, and that you +yourself do not mention it or thrust it at the reader, makes the +effect all the greater. One is forced to reflect upon the fact +oneself, to recall to mind how close in life was the relation which +existed between these two mysterious natures, and to look down into an +unfathomable depth of fate. But no more for today. My wife wishes to +inclose a little note to tell you her impressions of your Eighth Book. + +Farewell, my beloved, my esteemed friend! I am deeply moved when I +think that that which we otherwise look for and rarely find in the far +distance of favored antiquity lies so close to me in you. You need no +longer be astonished that there are so few who are capable or worthy +of understanding you. The wonderful naturalness, truth, and fluency of +your description hide from the common herd of critics every thought of +the difficulty, of the grandness of your art, and those who are +capable of following the artist, who perceive the means by which the +effects have been produced, will feel themselves so averse, so hostile +toward the genial power which they there see in action, and find their +needy selves in such straits, that they will angrily thrust the work +from them, while in their hearts--though with _de mauvaise +grace_--they are certain to be your liveliest worshippers. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER Weimar, July 5, 1796. + +As soon as I received your first letter I at once sat down to write to +you; but verily your two following letters have come to me, in the +midst of my truly worldly occupations, like two voices from another +world to which I can do naught but listen. Pray continue to refresh +and to encourage me! Your suggestions will enable me to finish the +Eighth Book as soon as I am able again to take it in hand. I already +possess the means to satisfy nearly every one of your suggestions, by +which, moreover, even to my mind, the whole work becomes more +connected at the points in question, and both truer and more pleasing. +Do not become weary of telling me your opinion frankly, and keep the +book a week longer. What you require of _Cellini_ I shall meanwhile +push forward; I shall also give you a sketch of what I still think of +doing to my Eighth Book, and hence the last transcript shall be out of +our hands by the beginning of August. + +Your letters are now my sole recreation, and you must know how +grateful I am to you for having so unexpectedly set my mind at ease +about so many points. Farewell, and give my kind greetings to your +dear wife. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +March 18, 1799. + +I congratulate you with all my heart upon having finished your work; +it has given me particular satisfaction, although I have, so to say, +but tasted the outside of it, and that on a most disturbed morning. +For stage purposes it is quite sufficiently developed; the new +motives, which I did not know of, are very good and to the point. + +If, at some future time, you could cut off a little from _The +Piccolomini_, both pieces would be a priceless gift to the German +stage, and they would have to be given throughout many a long year. + +The last piece has, it is true, this great merit, that everything +ceases to be political and becomes of purely human interest; nay, the +historical element itself is but a light veil through which we have +the purely human element shining forth. The effect upon the mind is +neither interfered with nor disturbed. + +I would certainly close with the monologue by the Princess, for it is, +in any case, left to the imagination as to what becomes of her. It +might perhaps be well, eventually, to have the Equerry introduced in +the first piece. + +The close of the whole with the address of the letter is, in reality, +frightening, especially considering the tender state of one's feelings +at the moment. It is doubtless an exceptional case to conclude with +what is terrible after having exhausted all that was capable of +rousing fear and pity. + +I shall not add more, and can but say that I am delighted at the +prospect of enjoying this work with you. I hope still to be able to +start on Thursday. You shall know for certain on Wednesday; we will +then read the play together, and I intend then to enjoy it in a +thoroughly composed state of mind. + +Farewell; take a rest now and let us both begin a new life during the +vacation. My kind greetings to your dear wife, and think of me. + +I do not intend, just yet, to boast of the work extorted from the +Muses; it is still a great question whether it is worth anything; in +any case, however, it may be regarded as preparatory. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, March 19, 1799. + +I have for long dreaded the moment when I should be rid of my work, +much as I wished for the time to come; and, in fact, I do feel my +present freedom to be worse than the state of bondage I have hitherto +been in. The mass which has formerly drawn and held me to it has now +gone, and I feel as if I were hanging indefinitely in empty space. At +the same time I feel also as if it were absolutely impossible for me +ever to produce anything again; I shall not be at rest till I once +more have my thoughts turned to some definite subject, with hope and +inclination in view. When I again have some definite object before me, +I shall be rid of the feeling of restlessness which at present is also +drawing me off from smaller things I have in hand. When you come I +mean to lay before you some tragic materials of my own invention, in +order that I may not, in the first instance, make a mistake as regards +subject. Inclination and necessity draw me toward subjects of pure +fancy, not to historical ones, and toward such in which the interest +is of a purely sentimental and human character; for of soldiers, +heroes, and commanders, I am now heartily tired. + +How I envy you your present activity--your latest! You are standing on +the purest and sublimest poetic ground, in the most beautiful world of +definite figures where everything is ready-made or can be re-made. You +are, so to say, living in the home of poetry and being waited upon by +the gods. During these last days I have again been looking into +Homer, and there have read of the visit of Thetis to Vulcan with +immense pleasure. There is, in the graceful description of a domestic +visit such as we might receive any day, and in an account of any kind +of handicraft, an infinity of material and form, and the Naïve shows +the full nature of the Divine. + +Your hope of being able to finish the _Achilleid_ by August, or, at +least, your believing it to be possible to do so, is to me +inconceivable, notwithstanding all the proofs I have myself had of the +rapidity with which you get through things, especially as you do not +even reckon upon having April for work. I sincerely regret that you +will lose this month; perhaps, however, you will be able to preserve +your epic mood; if so, be sure not to allow theatrical cares to +disturb you. I will gladly relieve you of whatever trouble I can in +connection with _Wallenstein_. + +A few days ago Imhof sent me the last two cantos of her poem, which +have given me very great pleasure. The development is extremely +refined and pure, and is accomplished by simple means and unusual +elegance. When you come we will talk it over together. + +I herewith return _The Piccolomini_, and beg you to let me have +_Wallenstein's Camp_, which I wish likewise to have copied out, and +shall then, at last, be able to send the three plays to Körner. + +The box of groats has been called for and delivered up in your name to +a Herr Meyer. You have, no doubt, already received it. Farewell. My +wife sends kindest greetings. Tomorrow I hope to hear that we may +expect you on Thursday. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Weimar, July 30, 1800. The cheerful tone of your letter proves to me +that things are going well with you in Jena, and I congratulate you +that such is the case. I cannot boast the same of myself; the state of +the barometer, which is so favorable to you, brings on my spasms, and +I do not sleep well. Owing to this state of things, it was very +welcome news to me to hear from Körner that he could not undertake the +journey. I shall, therefore, not go to Lauchstedt, and shall thus have +an unexpected gain in time and also in money; for, much as I should +have liked to see him again, it would just at present have been a +little inconvenient to me. + +I congratulate you upon the progress you have made in your work. The +liberty which you appear to be taking with the French original, I look +upon as a good sign of the productive state of your mind, and also +augur from this that the work will bring us a step further forward +than _Mahomet_ did. I am looking forward eagerly to seeing your work +and to our discussions upon it. + +If you carry out your idea respecting the choruses, we shall be making +an important experiment on the stage. My piece, too, will, I hope, be +so far advanced by the time you return that I may lay the finished +sketch of it before you, in order to assure myself that you approve of +it before I set about working it out. During the last few days I have +likewise been engaged with the conclusion of my collection of poems. +The stanzas on _Mahomet I_ have also had printed in it. If you are +curious to see them, Goepferdt could send you sheets R and S as soon +as they have been printed off. + +Kirms sent me a very welcome today, for which I send you my best +thanks. + +My wife sends kindest greetings. May you farewell and enjoy the gay +variety of entertainments by which you are surrounded in Jena. Mellish +passed through here yesterday, and has again taken up his abode in +Doernburg. I hear a great deal about the merry life they are leading +in Wilhelmsthal, where the proceedings are evidently very Utopian. My +sister-in-law met with a serious accident in the carriage, which broke +in two; however, she herself was not hurt. Farewell. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Jena, August I, 1800. + +_Tancred_ I laid aside yesterday morning. I have translated--and here +and there a little more than this--the close of the second act and the +third and fourth acts, with the exception of the close of the two +latter. By this means, as I think, I have secured the worthier parts +of the piece, to which I shall now have to add something of my own +that is life-giving, so that the beginning and the end may become +somewhat fuller than the original. The choruses will be very +appropriate; however, I shall nevertheless have to act very cautiously +so as not to injure the whole. Still, once being upon the path we have +entered, I shall never regret working out and accomplishing this task. + +Yesterday I attended to some business matters, and today solved a +small difficulty in _Faust_; if I could remain here another fortnight +it should assume quite a different appearance. However, I have +unfortunately taken it into my head that my presence is required in +Weimar, and I am going to sacrifice my dearest wish to this fancy. + +In other ways, also, these last few days have not been unfruitful in +many good things. We have long pondered over a _Bride in Sorrow_. +Tieck, in his poetic journal, reminds me of an old marionette play +called the _Hoellenbraul_, which I too remember to have seen in my +young days. It is a pendent to _Faust_, or, rather, to _Don Juan_. An +extremely vain and heartless girl, who has ruined her faithful lover, +consents to accept an unknown stranger as her betrothed, and he, in +the end, as a devil, carries her off with him--as she deserves. Ought +we not to be able to find the idea for a bride in sorrow here--at +least in this direction? + +I have been reading a treatise of Baader's on the Pythagorean square +in nature, or the four quarters of the globe. Whether it be that I +have for some years past interested myself more in this species of +writing, or that he has contrived to make his intentions clearer, the +little work has pleased me and has served me as an introduction to his +earlier writings; however, my faculties are still unable to comprehend +all of the latter. + +A student here, who is engaged with the anatomy of insects, dissected +some very neatly and explained them to me, and I have thus made +progress in this branch also, partly in knowledge of the subject +itself, partly also in the treatment of it. + +If a young man like this could have some definite object given him to +work at, if only for four months, many very pleasant things might be +the result. However, if I can come over here again before the time +when certain cater-pillars change into chrysalies, I shall assuredly +try to make use of his ability and dexterity. One might, indeed, +easily do such things oneself, were it not that they would at once +lead one over into an entirely different sphere. On Monday I shall +be with you again, and shall have a number of things to bring with me +and to relate. + +Farewell meanwhile, and hold me in remembrance. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Ober-Rossla, April 6, 1801. + +I wish you all happiness upon your return to Weimar, and hope soon to +see you again, either by your coming to pay me a visit or by my again +repairing to town. + +My stay here suits me very well, partly because I move about in the +open air all day, partly because I am drawn down to the common objects +of life, and thus there comes over me a certain feeling of nonchalance +and indifference such as I have not known for a long time. + +With regard to the questions contained in your last letter, I not only +agree with your opinion, but go even further. I think that everything +that is done by genius as genius, is done unconsciously. A person of +genius can also act rationally, with reflection, from conviction, but +this is all done, as it were, indirectly. No work of genius can be +improved or be freed from its faults by reflection and its immediate +results, but genius can, by means of reflection and action, be +gradually raised to a degree that in the end shall produce exemplary +works. The more genius a century possesses, the more are individual +things advanced. + +With regard to the great demands now made of the poet, I too am of +the opinion that these will not readily call forth a poet. The art of +poetry requires of the person who is to exercise it a certain +good-natured kind of narrowness enamored of what is Real, behind which +lies concealed what is Absolute. Demands made by criticism destroy the +innocent, productive state, and give us as genuine poetry--in place of +poetry--something that is in fact no poetry at all, as unfortunately +we have seen in our own day; and the same is the case with the kindred +arts--nay, with Art in its widest sense. + +This is my confession of faith, which otherwise does not make any +further claims. + +[Illustration: THE GOETHE AND SCHILLER ARCHIVES IN WEIMAR] + +I expect much good from your latest work. It is well conceived, and, +if you devote sufficient time to it, will round itself off of its own +accord. _Faust_ also has meanwhile had something done to it. I hope +that soon the only thing wanting in the great gap will be the +disputation; this, it is true, will have to be looked upon as a +distinct piece of work, and one which will not be accomplished at a +moment's notice. + +The famous prize-question also has not been lost sight of during these +days. In order to obtain an empiric foundation for my observations, I +have commenced examining the character of the different European +nations. In Link's _Travels_ I have read a good deal more about +Portugal, and shall now pass on to Spain. I am daily becoming more +convinced how much more limited everything appears when such +observations are made from within. + +Ritter came to see me for a minute, and has, among other things, +directed my attention again to the theory of colors. Herschel's new +discoveries, which have been carried further and extended by our young +naturalist, are very beautifully connected with that observation which +I have frequently told you of--that Bolognian phosphorus does not +receive any light on the yellow-red side of the spectrum, but +certainly does so on the blue-red side. The physical colors are +thereby identified with the chemical colors. The time and care which +I have devoted to this subject give me the greatest advantage in +judging of new observations, inasmuch as, in fact, I have thought out +some new experiments which will carry the matter further still. I +foresee that I shall this year write at least two or three chapters +more in my theory of colors. I am anxious, some day soon, to show you +the latest. + +Would you care to come to me on Thursday with Professor Meyer? Please +talk this over with him, and I will then write to him more fully on +the subject. Meanwhile, farewell. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Weimar, August 18, 1802. + +You can never be inactive, and what you call an unproductive mood most +other people would consider time fully occupied. If only some +subordinate genius--one of those very persons residing and presiding +at the universities--would give the finishing touch to your scientific +ideas, collect and edit them fairly, and, in this way, preserve them +for the world! For, unfortunately, you yourself will always be putting +off this business, because, as I think, what is actually didactic is +not a part of your nature. You are, in reality, very well qualified +for being appropriated and plundered by others during your own +lifetime, as has already happened to you several times and would +happen more frequently still if people understood their own advantage +better. + +If we had become acquainted with each other half a dozen years earlier +than we did, I should have had time to master your scientific +investigations; I should perhaps have sustained your inclination to +give these important subjects their ultimate shape, and, in any case, +should have honestly looked after what belonged to you. + +I have lately been reading some notices on the elder Pliny, which have +astonished me in regard to what a man can accomplish by putting time +to good use. Compared with him, even Haller was a time-squanderer. But +I am afraid that the immense amount of time he devoted to reading, +making quotations and dictating, left him no proper time for +independent reflection, and he seems to have applied all the activity +of his mind to acquiring knowledge; for on one occasion he called his +nephew severely to task for walking up and down the garden without +having a book in his hand. + +During these last days I have been hard at work with my play, and, +moreover, not unsuccessfully; and I have never yet learned so much +from any work of my own as from this. It is one I can more readily +survey and also more readily manage; besides, it is a more grateful +and enjoyable task to make a simple subject rich and full of substance +than to limit one that is too rich and broad. + +Otherwise, however, a variety of things are at present engaging my +thoughts; and, as political affairs may also affect my circumstances, +I am awaiting my fate not without anxiety. There are also other things +which threaten to drag me out of my old position, and which, +therefore, are not agreeable to me. + +The repairs I am having made and other arrangements will, I hope, be +finished this week; and when you return I shall be able to bid you +welcome in a clean and pretty house. Farewell, and let me soon hear +that you are coming back to us with a rich gift. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Jena, December 13, 1803. + +It was to be expected that I should be recalled when Madame de Stael +came to Weimar. * * * If she comes to pay me a visit, she shall be +well received, and, if I know of her coming four-and-twenty hours +beforehand, a part of Loder's house shall be furnished for her use; +she would find homely fare, but we should really meet and speak to +each other, and she could remain as long as she liked. What I have to +do here can be done at odd quarters of an hour, and the rest of my +time I would place at her disposal; but to drive over in such weather +as this, to have to dress, to be at court and in society, is utterly +impossible. This I maintain as positively as was ever declared by +yourself in similar circumstances. + +Take this as a friendly guidance for your actions, for I desire +nothing more than actually to see and to become acquainted with this +remarkable and highly respected woman, and I wish for nothing so much +as that she may care to take this drive of a couple of hours for my +sake. On her journey she must have become accustomed to worse fare +than she will find here. Arrange and manage these things with your +gentle, friendly hand, and send me an express messenger at once, as +soon as anything important occurs. + +I wish you success in everything that your solitude produces, +according as you yourself may wish and desire! I am rowing about in a +foreign element, nay, I may say that I am merely paddling about in it, +with loss to things without, and without satisfaction from within or +toward within. But--as I am always learning more distinctly from +Polygnotus and Homer--we have in reality to conceive hell as existing +here; thus it may be considered to be also a life. A thousand +farewells in a heavenly sense! + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +January 14, 1805. + +I am very sorry to hear that your having to keep at home is not +voluntary on your part. Unfortunately, we are none of us quite strong, +and he who is of necessity forced to learn to put up with being ill +has the best of it. I am very glad now that I formed a determination +and have commenced to occupy myself with a translation; thus these +days of misery have, at all events, been put to some use, and I have +lived and been active. During the next eight days I shall try to see +whether I can put myself into the proper humor for my _Demetrius_, +which, however, I fear I shall not be able to do. If it cannot be +managed, I shall have to look up some other semi-mechanical work. + +[Illustration: FACSIMILIE OF A LEAF FROM THE ALBUM OF SCHILLERS +LETTERS TO CHARLOTTE VON LENGEFELD] + +Herewith I send you what has been copied out. Tomorrow my Rudolph will +get the whole finished. + +Would you look over the first sheets, occasionally compare them with +the original, and mark in pencil whatever you may have to suggest? I +should like to have it ready as soon as possible, and before the rôles +are copied out. + +If the rôles are commenced day after tomorrow, we could have a +reading-rehearsal next Sunday, and there would still be ten days +before the thirtieth. + +The Duke has given me permission to read the _Memoirs of Marmontel_, +which you now have; therefore, please let me have them when you have +finished with them. + +The Grand Duchess yesterday again spoke with great interest about your +late recital. She is looking forward to seeing and hearing many other +things at your house. + +Farewell; and let me, too, soon hear from you again. Should you not be +in the humor to read the sheets through, please send them back to me, +so that I can make use of the time for having them copied out. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +February 22, 1805. + +It was pleasant to me to see a few lines in your handwriting, and it +has again awakened my belief in the return of the old state of +things--which I have at times quite despaired of. The two severe +attacks which I have had within the space of seven months have shaken +my system to its very foundation, and I shall have difficulty in +recovering my strength. + +It is true that my present attack seems to have been merely the +general epidemic that is going about, but the fever in my case was so +great, and it seized me when I was already in such a weak state, that +I feel as if I had arisen from a most severe illness, and find it +specially difficult to struggle against a certain listlessness which +is the worst trouble in my case. + +I am anxious to hear whether you have yet sent off the manuscript of +_Rameau_. Goeschen has not written anything about it to me, and, in +fact, for the last fortnight I have not heard of anything that is +going on in the world. + +I trust that things may daily and hourly improve with you and with me +too, so that we may soon see each other in gladness. + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 64: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 65: Les Bijoux _Indiscrets._] + +[Footnote 66: Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister._] + +[Footnote 67: A publisher in Berlin] + + * * * * * + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth +and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. III, by Kuno Francke, Editor-in-Chief + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11692 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..388a584 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11692 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11692) diff --git a/old/11692-8.txt b/old/11692-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e33ab01 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11692-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,26107 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth and +Twentieth Centuries, Vol. III, by Kuno Francke, Editor-in-Chief + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. III + Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. In Twenty + Volumes + + +Author: Kuno Francke (Editor-in-Chief) + +Release Date: March 23, 2004 [EBook #11692] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS VOL. 3 *** + + + + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + + + VOLUME III + + * * * * * + + FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER + + + + + + THE GERMAN CLASSICS + + Masterpieces of German Literature + + TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH + + + + + IN TWENTY VOLUMES + + ILLUSTRATED + + + + + + THE GERMAN PUBLICATION SOCIETY + NEW YORK + + + + 1914 + + + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME III + + +Life of Schiller. By Calvin Thomas + + +POEMS[1] + + To the Ideal + The Veiled Image at Sas + The Ideal and The Actual Life + Genius + Votive Tablets (Selections) + The Maiden from Afar + The Glove + The Diver + The Cranes of Ibycus + Thee Words of Belief + The Words of Error + The Lay of the Bell + The German Art + Commencement of the New Century + Cassandra + Rudolph of Hapsburg + + +DRAMAS + + Introduction to Wallenstein's Death. By William H. Carruth + + The Death of Wallenstein. Translated by S. T. Coleridge + + Introduction to William Tell. By William H. Carruth + + William Tell. Translated by Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B. + + Homage of the Arts. Translated by A. I. du P. Coleman + + +HISTORY AND LITERATURE + + The Thirty Years' War--Last Campaigns of Gustavus Adolphus. Translated + by Rev. A. J. W. Morrison + + On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy. Translated by A. Lodge + + Schiller's Correspondence with Goethe. Translated by L. Dora Schmitz + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS--VOLUME III + + Milton and His Daughters. By Michael von Munkacsy + + Schiller. By C. Jger + + Schiller's Father and Mother + + Schiller's House in Weimar and Birthplace in Marbach + + Monument to Schiller in Berlin. By Reinhold Begas + + Military Academy in Stuttgart and the Theatre in Mannheim, 1782 + + Church in which Schiller was married + + Schiller at the Court of Weimar + + The Knight scorns Cunigonde. By Eugen Klimsch + + The Diver. By Carl Gehrts + + The Lay of the Bell. By Julius Benezur + + Cassandra. By Ferdinand Keller + + The Count gives up his Horse to the Priest. By Alexander Wagner + + Wallenstein and Seni + + Wallenstein and Terzky + + Wallenstein hears of Octavio's Treason + + Wallenstein warned by his Friends + + The Death of Wallenstein. By Karl von Piloty + + Stauffacher and his Wife Gertrude + + The Oath on the Rtli + + Tell takes Leave of his Family + + Tell and Gessler + + The Death of Attinghausen. By Wilhelm von Kaulbach + + The Homage of the Arts. By Hermann Wislicenus + + Gustavus Adolphus + + Wallenstein. By Van Dyck + + Monument to Goethe and Schiller in Weimar. By Ernst Rietschel + + Goethe on Schiller. From the _Ford Collection_, New York Public Library + + Schiller on Goethe. From the _Ford Collection_, New York Public Library + + Schiller Reciting from his Works to his Weimar Friends. By Theobald + von Oer + + The Goethe and Schiller Archives in Weimar + + Facsimile of Leaf from the Album of Schiller's Letters to Charlotte + von Lengefeld + + + + +THE LIFE OF SCHILLER + + +BY CALVIN THOMAS, LL.D. + +Professor of Germanic Languages and Literatures, Columbia University + + + He kept the faith. The ardent poet-soul, + Once thrilled to madness by the fiery gleam + Of Freedom glimpsed afar in youthful dream, + Henceforth was true as needle to the pole. + The vision he had caught remained the goal + Of manhood's aspiration and the theme + Of those high luminous musings that redeem + Our souls from bondage to the general dole + Of trivial existence. Calm and free + He faced the Sphinx, nor ever knew dismay, + Nor bowed to externalities the knee, + Nor took a guerdon from the fleeting day; + But dwelt on earth in that eternity + Where Truth and Beauty shine with blended ray.[2] + +Friedrich Schiller, the greatest of German dramatic poets, was born +November 10, 1759, at Marbach in Swabia. His father was an officer in +the army which the Duke of Wrttemberg sent out to fight the Prussians +in the Seven Years' War. Of his mother, whose maiden name was Dorothea +Kodweis, not much is known. She was a devout woman who lived in the +cares and duties of a household that sometimes felt the pinch of +poverty. After the war the family lived a while at the village of +Lorch, where Captain Schiller was employed as recruiting officer. From +there they moved, in 1766, to Ludwigsburg, where the extravagant duke +Karl Eugen had taken up his residence and was bent on creating a sort +of Swabian Versailles. Here little Fritz went to school and was +sometimes taken to the gorgeous ducal opera, where he got his first +notions of scenic illusion. The hope of his boyhood was to become a +preacher, but this pious aspiration was brought to naught by the offer +of free tuition in an academy which the duke had started at his Castle +Solitude near Stuttgart. + +This academy was Schiller's world from his fourteenth to his +twenty-first year. It was an educational experiment conceived in a +rather liberal spirit as a training-school for public service. At +first the duke had the boys taught under his own eye at Castle +Solitude, where they were subjected to a strict military discipline. +There being no provision for the study of divinity, Schiller was put +into law, with the result that he floundered badly for two years. In +1775 the institution was augmented by a faculty of medicine and +transferred to Stuttgart, where it was destined to a short-lived +career under the name of the Karlschule. Schiller gladly availed +himself of the permission to change from law to medicine, which he +thought would be more in harmony with his temperament and literary +ambitions. And so it proved. As a student of medicine he made himself +at home in the doctrines and practices of the day, and for several +years after he left school he thought now and then of returning to the +profession of medicine. + +For posterity the salient fact of his long connection with the +Karlschule is that he was there converted into a fiery radical and a +banner-bearer of the literary revolution. Just how it came about is +hard to explain in detail. The school was designed to produce docile +and contented members of the social order; in him it bred up a savage +and relentless critic of that order. The result may be ascribed +partly, no doubt, to the natural reaction of an ardent, liberty-loving +temperament against a system of rigid discipline and petty espionage. +The _lves_--French was the official language of the school--were not +supposed to read dangerous books, and their rooms were often searched +for contraband literature. But they easily found ways to evade the +rule and enjoy the savor of forbidden fruit. + +[Illustration: FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER] + +So it was with Schiller: he read Rousseau more or less, the early +works of Goethe, Lessing's _Emilia Galotti_, and plays by Klinger, +Leisewitz, Lenz and Wagner--all more or less revolutionary in spirit. +He also made the acquaintance of Shakespeare and steeped himself in +the spirit of antique heroism as he found it in Plutarch. + +Perhaps this reading would have made a radical of him even if he had +just then been enjoying the normal freedom of a German university +student. Be that as it may, the time came--it was about 1777--when the +young Schiller, faithfully pursuing his medical course and doing loyal +birthday orations in praise of the duke or the duke's mistress, was +not exactly what he seemed to be. Underneath the calm exterior there +was a soul on fire with revolutionary passion. + +It was mainly in 1780--his last year in the Karlschule--that Schiller +wrote _The Robbers_, altogether the loudest explosion of the Storm and +Stress. The hero, Karl Moor, was conceived as a "sublime criminal." +Deceived by the machinations of his villainous brother Franz, he +becomes the captain of a band of outlaws and attempts by murder, arson +and robbery to right the wrongs of the social order. For a while he +believes that he is doing a noble work. When he learns how he has been +deluded he gives himself up to the law. The effect of the play is that +of tremendous power unchecked by any of the restraints of art. The +plot is incredible, the language tense with turbulent passion, and the +characters are extravagantly overdrawn. But the genius of the born +dramatist is there. It is all vividly seen and powerfully bodied +forth. What is more important, the play marks the birth of a new +type--the tragedy of fanaticism. We are left at the end with a +heightened feeling for the mysterious tangle of human destiny which +makes it possible for a really noble nature such as Karl Moor to go +thus disastrously wrong. + +Toward the end of 1780 Schiller left the academy and was made doctor +to a regiment of soldiers consisting largely of invalids. He dosed +them with drastic medicines according to his light, but the service +was disagreeable and the pay very small. To make a stir in the world +he borrowed money and published _The Robbers_ as a book for the +reader, with a preface in which he spoke rather slightingly of the +theatre. The book came out in the spring of 1781--with a rampant lion +and the motto _in Tirannos_ on the title-page. Ere long it came to the +attention of Dalberg, director of the theatre at Mannheim, who saw +its dramatic qualities and requested its author to revise it for the +stage. This Schiller readily consented to do. To please Dalberg he set +the action back from the eighteenth to the sixteenth century and made +many minor changes. The revised play was performed at Mannheim on +January 12, 1782, with ever-memorable success. The audience, assembled +from far and near, went wild with enthusiasm. No such triumph had been +achieved before on a German stage. The author himself saw the +performance, having come over from Stuttgart without leave of absence. +For this breach of discipline, or rather for a repetition of the +offense in May, he was sent to the guardhouse for a fortnight and +forbidden to write any more plays. The consequence was a clandestine +flight from a situation that had become intolerable. In September, +1782, he escaped from Stuttgart with his loyal friend Streicher and +took his way northward toward the Palatinate. He had set his hopes on +finding employment in Mannheim. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER'S FATHER AND MOTHER] + +Before leaving his native Swabia he had virtually completed a second +play dealing with the conspiracy of Count Fiesco at Genoa in the year +1547. He had also won his spurs as a poet and a critic. His _Anthology +for 1782_ contains a large number of short poems, some of them +evincing a rare talent for dramatic story-telling, others +foreshadowing the imaginative sweep and the warmth of feeling which +characterize the best poetic work of the later Schiller. Such, +notably, are the poems to Laura, in which the lover's raptures are +linked with the law of gravitation and the preestablished harmony of +the world. He also contributed several papers to the Wrttemberg +_Repertorium_, especially a review of _The Robbers_ in which, +dissecting his own child with remorseless impartiality, he anticipated +nearly everything that critics were destined to urge against the play +during the next hundred years. Having left his post of duty and +being a military officer, Schiller was technically a deserter and had +reason to fear pursuit and arrest. At Mannheim his affairs went badly. +The politic Dalberg was not eager to befriend a youth who had offended +the powerful Duke of Wrttemberg; so _Fiesco_ was rejected and its +author came into dire straits. Toward the close of the year he found a +welcome refuge at Bauerbach, where a house was put at his disposal by +his friend Frau von Wolzogen. Here he remained several months, +occupied mainly with a new play which came to be known as _Cabal and +Love_. He also sketched a historical tragedy, _Don Carlos_, being led +to the subject by his reading of St. Ral's historical novel _Don +Carlos_. During the first part of his stay at Bauerbach Schiller went +by the name of Dr. Ritter and wrote purposely misleading letters as to +his intended movements. By the summer of 1783, however, it had become +apparent that the Duke of Wrttemberg was not going to make trouble. +Relieved of anxiety on this score, and not having had very good +success of late with his theatre, Dalberg reopened negotiations with +Schiller, who was easily persuaded to emerge from his hiding-place and +become theatre-poet at Mannheim under contract for one year. + +During this year at Mannheim _Fiesco_ and _Cabal and Love_ were put on +the stage and published. The former is a quasi-historical tragedy of +intriguing ambition, ending--in the original version--with the death +of Fiesco at the hands of the fanatical republican Verrina. While +there is much to admire in its abounding vigor and its picturesque +details, _Fiesco_ lacks artistic finality and is the least interesting +of Schiller's early plays. Much more important is _Cabal and Love_, a +domestic tragedy that has held the stage to this day and is generally +regarded as the best of its kind in the eighteenth-century German +drama. Class conflict is the tragic element. A maid of low degree and +her high-minded, aristocratic lover are done to death by a miserable +court intrigue. Far more than in _The Robbers_ Schiller was here +writing with his eye on the facts. Much Wrttemberg history is thinly +disguised in this drastic comment on the crimes, follies and +banalities of German court life under the Old Rgime. + +Notwithstanding his success as a playwright and his receipt of the +honorable title of Councilor from the Duke of Weimar, Schiller was +unhappy at Mannheim. Sickness, debt and loneliness oppressed him, +making creative work well-nigh impossible. In June, 1784, when the sky +was looking very black, he received a heartening letter from a quartet +of unknown admirers in Leipzig, one of whom was Gottfried Krner. +Schiller was deeply touched. In his hunger for sympathy and friendship +he resolved to leave Mannheim and seek out these good people who had +shown such a kindly interest in him. Fortunately Krner was a man of +some means and was able to help not only with words but with cash. So +it came about that in the spring of 1785 Schiller forsook Mannheim, +which had become as a prison to him, and went to Leipzig. Thence, +after a short sojourn, he followed Krner to Dresden. The relation +between the two men developed into a warm and mutually inspiring +friendship. A feeling of jubilant happiness took possession of +Schiller and soon found expression in the _Song to Joy_, wherein a +kiss of love and sympathy is offered to all mankind. + +[Illustration: 1. SCHILLER'S HOUSE IN WEIMAR] + +[Illustration: 2. SCHILLER'S BIRTHPLACE IN MARBACH] + +During his two years' sojourn in Dresden Schiller was mainly occupied +with the editing of a magazine, the _Thalia_, and with the completion +of _Don Carlos_, the first of his plays in blank verse. Hitherto he +had written with his eye on the stage, and in the savage spirit of the +Storm and Stress. Now, however, the higher ambition of the dramatic +poet began to assert itself. His views of life were changing, and his +nature craved a freer and nobler self-expression than was possible in +the "three hours' traffic of the stage." He had begun _Don Carlos_ at +Bauerbach, intending to make it a love-tragedy in a royal household +and incidentally to scourge the Spanish inquisition. Little by little, +however, the centre of his interest shifted from the lovesick Carlos +to the quixotic dreamer Posa, and the result was that the love-tragedy +gradually grew into a tragedy of political idealism with Posa for its +hero. As finally completed in the summer of 1787, _Don Carlos_ had +twice the length of an ordinary stage-play and, withal, a certain lack +of artistic unity. But its sonorous verse, its fine phrasing of large +ideas, and its noble dignity of style settled forever the question of +Schiller's power as a dramatic poet. The third act especially is +instinct with the best idealism of the eighteenth century. + +After _Don Carlos_ Schiller wrote no more plays for some nine years, +being occupied in the interval chiefly with history and philosophy. +His dramatic work had interested him more especially in the sixteenth +century. At Dresden he began to read history with great avidity and +found it very appetizing. What he most cared for, evidently, was not +the annals of warfare or the growth of institutions, but the +psychology of the great man. He was an ardent lover of freedom, both +political and intellectual, and took keen delight in tracing its +progress. On the other hand, play-writing had its disadvantages. Thus +far it had brought him more of notoriety than of solid fame, and his +income was so small that he was dependent on Krner's generosity. To +escape from this irksome position he decided to try his fortune in +Thuringia. Going over to Weimar, in the summer of 1787, he was well +received by Herder and Wieland--Goethe was just then in Italy--and +presently he settled down to write a history of the Dutch Rebellion. +His plan looked forward to six volumes, but only one was ever written. +It was published in 1788 under the title of _The Defection of the +Netherlands_ and led to its author's appointment as unsalaried +professor of history at the University of Jena. He began to lecture in +the spring of 1789. + +Meanwhile he had taken up the study of the Greek poets and found them +very edifying and sanative--just the influence that he needed to +clarify his judgment and correct his earlier vagaries of taste. He was +fascinated by the _Odyssey_ and in a mood of fleeting enthusiasm he +resolved to read nothing but the ancients for the next two years. +He translated the _Iphigenia in Aulis_ of Euripides and a part of _The +Phenician Women_. Out of this newborn ardor grew two important poems, +_The Gods of Greece_ and _The Artists_; the former an elegy on the +decay of Greek polytheism conceived as a loss of beauty to the world, +the latter a philosophic retrospect of human history wherein the +evolutionary function of art is glorified. At the same time he revived +the dormant _Thalia_ and used its columns for the continued +publication of _The Ghost-seer_, a pot-boiling novel which he had +begun at Dresden. It is Schiller's one serious attempt at prose +fiction. His initial purpose was to describe an elaborate and +fine-spun intrigue, devised by mysterious agents of the Church of +Rome, for the winning over of a Protestant German prince. The story +begins in a promising way, and the later portions contain fine +passages of narrative and character-drawing. But its author presently +began to feel that it was unworthy of him and left it unfinished. + +[Illustration: MONUMENT TO SCHILLER (Berlin) _Sculptor, Reinhold +Begas_] + +On the 22d of February, 1790, Schiller was married to Lotte von +Lengefeld, with whom he lived most happily the rest of his days. His +letters of this period tell of a quiet joy such as he had not known +before. And then, suddenly, his fair prospects were clouded by the +disastrous breakdown of his health. An attack of pneumonia in the +winter of 1790-1791 came near to a fatal ending, and hardly had he +recovered from that before he was prostrated by a second illness worse +than the first. He bade farewell to his friends, and the report went +abroad that he was dead. After a while he rallied, but never again to +be strong and well. From this time forth he must be thought of as a +semi-invalid, doomed to a very cautious mode of living and expectant +of an early death. It was to be a fourteen years' battle between a +heroic soul and an ailing body. + +For a while, owing to the forced cessation of the literary work on +which his small income depended, he was in great distress for lack of +money. His wife, while of noble family, had brought nothing but +herself to the marriage partnership. And then, just as in the dark +days at Mannheim in 1784, help seemed to come from the clouds. Two +Danish noblemen, ardent admirers quite unknown to him personally, +heard of his painful situation and offered him a pension of a thousand +thalers a year for three years. No conditions whatever were attached +to the gift; he was simply to follow his inclination, free from all +anxiety about a livelihood. Without hesitation he accepted the gift +and thus found himself, for the first time in his life, really free to +do as he chose. What he chose was to use his freedom for a grapple +with Kant's philosophy. Today this seems a strange choice for a sick +poet, but let Schiller himself explain what lay in his mind. He wrote +to Krner: + +"It is precisely for the sake of artistic creation that I wish to +philosophize. Criticism must repair the damage it has done me. And it +has done me great damage indeed; for I miss in myself these many years +that boldness, that living fire, that was mine before I knew a rule. +Now I see myself in the act of creating and fashioning; I observe the +play of inspiration, and my imagination works less freely, since it is +conscious of being watched. But if I once reach the point where +artistic procedure becomes natural, like education for the +well-nurtured man, then my fancy will get back its old freedom and +know no bounds but those of its own making." + +From these words we understand the nature of Schiller's enterprise--he +wished to fathom the laws of beauty. It seemed to him that beauty +could not be altogether a matter of changing taste, opinion, and +fashion; that somehow or other it must be grounded in eternal laws +either of the external world or of human nature. He felt, too, that a +knowledge of these laws, could it once become second nature, would be +very helpful to him as a dramatic poet. Whether he was right in so +thinking is a question too large to be discussed here, nor can we +follow him in the details of his esthetic speculation. The subject is +too abstruse to be dispatched in a few words. Suffice it to say that a +number of minor papers, the most important being _On Winsomeness and +Dignity (ber Anmut and Wrde)_ and _On the Sublime_, prepared the way +for a more popular exposition of his views in the _Letters on Esthetic +Education_ and in the memorable essay _On Nave and Sentimental +Poetry_, which deserves to be called, next to Lessing's _Laocoon_, the +weightiest critical essay of the eighteenth century. The Letters +contain a ripe and pleasing statement of Schiller's philosophy in its +relation to the culture-problems of his epoch. + +Along with these philosophic studies Schiller found time for much work +more closely related to his professorship of history. To say nothing +of his minor historical writings, he completed, in 1793, his _History +of the Thirty Years' War_. It appeared in successive numbers of +Gschen's _Ladies' Calendar_, a fact which in itself indicates that it +was not conceived and should not be judged as a monument of research. +The aim was to tell the story of the great war in a readable style. +And in this Schiller succeeded, especially in the parts relating to +his hero, the Swedish king Gustav Adolf. Over Schiller's merit as a +historian there has been much debate, and good critics have caviled at +his sharp contrasts and his lack of care in matters of detail. But the +great fact remains that the _Defection of the Netherlands_ and the +_Thirty Years' War_ are the earliest historical classics in the German +language. Schiller was the first German to make literature out of +history. + +The year 1794 brought about a closer relation between Schiller and +Goethe, an event of prime moment in the lives of both. On Goethe's +return from Italy, in the summer of 1788, Schiller was introduced to +him, but the meeting had no immediate consequences. In fact, Schiller +had quietly made up his mind not to like the man whom, for a whole +year, he had heard constantly lauded by the Weimar circle. He thought +of Goethe as a proud, self-centred son of fortune, with whom +friendship would be impossible. Goethe, on the other hand, was not +drawn to the author of _The Robbers_. He looked on the popularity of +the detestable play as a shocking evidence of depraved public taste +and was not aware how its author had changed since writing it. So it +came about that, for some six years, the two men lived as neighbors in +space but strangers in the spirit. At last, however, an accidental +meeting in Jena led to an interchange of views and prepared the way +for the most memorable of literary friendships. + +By this time Schiller had undertaken the editorship of a new literary +magazine to be called _Die Horen_, which was to be financed by the +enterprising publisher Cotta in Stuttgart. The plan was that it should +eclipse all previous undertakings of its kind. But it was to eschew +politics. Germany was just then agitated by the fierce passions of the +revolutionary epoch, and this excitement was regarded by Schiller as +ominous for the nation. There was need of esthetic education. So he +proposed to keep the _Horen_ clear of politics and try to divert the +minds of men into the serener regions of letters and art. To Goethe, +who also hated the Revolution, this was a highly acceptable program. +So he readily undertook to write for the _Horen_, and thus he and +Schiller soon became linked together in the public mind as allied +champions of a cause. It is for this reason that the Germans are wont +to call them the Dioscuri. + +By way of signalizing their community of interest the Dioscuri +presently began to write satirical distichs at the expense of men and +tendencies that they did not like. For example: + + Gentlemen, keep your seats! for the curs but covet your places, + Elegant places to hear all the other dogs bark. + +The making of these more or less caustic epigrams amused them. +Sometimes one would suggest the topic and the other write the distich; +again, one would do the hexameter, the other the pentameter. They +agreed that neither should ever claim separate property in the +_Xenia_, as they were called. The number grew apace, until it reached +nearly a thousand. About half the number on hand were published in +1797 in Schiller's _Musenalmanach_ and had the effect of setting all +Germany agog with curiosity, rage or solemn glee. Some of those hit +replied in kind or in vicious attacks, and for a little while there +was great excitement. But having discharged their broadside Goethe and +Schiller did not further pursue the ignoble warfare. They wisely came +to the conclusion that the best way to elevate the public taste was +not to assail the bad in mordant personal epigrams, but to exemplify +the good in creative work. + +After his nine years of fruitful wandering in other fields Schiller +returned at last, in 1796, to dramatic poetry. Once more it came in +his way to write for the stage, since Goethe was now director of the +Weimar theatre. After some hesitation between _Wallenstein_ and _The +Knights of Malta_, both of which had long haunted his thoughts, he +decided in favor of the former. It occupied him for three years and +finally left his hands as a long affair in three parts. Yet it is not +a trilogy in the proper sense, but a play in ten acts, preceded by a +dramatic prelude. At first Schiller found the material refractory. The +actual Wallenstein had never exhibited truly heroic qualities of any +kind, and his history involved only the cold passions of ambition, +envy, and vindictiveness. Whether he was really guilty of treason was +a moot question which admitted of no partisan treatment. But +Schiller's genius triumphed splendidly over the difficulties inherent +in the subject. In the _Camp_ we get a picturesque view of the motley +soldatesca which was the basis of Wallenstein's power and prestige. In +_The Piccolomini_ we see the nature of the dangerous game he is +playing, and in _Wallenstein's Death_ the unheroic hero becomes very +impressive in his final discomfiture and his pitiable taking-off. The +love-tragedy of Max and Thekla casts a mellow light of romance over +the otherwise austere political action. + +[Illustration: 1. THE MILITARY ACADEMY IN STUTTGART WHERE SCHILLER WAS +EDUCATED] + +[Illustration: 2. THE THEATRE IN MANNHEIM IN 1782 WHERE SCHILLER'S +"THE ROBBERS," "FIESCO," AND "LOVE AND INTRIGUE" WERE FIRST PLAYED] + +During the years 1795-1800 Schiller wrote a large number of short +poems in which he gave expression to his matured philosophy of life. +His best ballads also belong to this period. Pure song he did not +often attempt, his philosophic bent predisposing him to what the +Germans call the lyric of thought. Perhaps his invalidism had +something to do with it; at any rate the total number of his singable +lyrics, such as _The Maiden's Lament_, is but small. As a poet of +reflection he is at his best in _The Ideal and Life, The Walk, The +Eleusinian Festival_, and the more popular _Song of the Bell_. The +first-named of these four, at first called _The Realm of Shades_, is a +masterpiece of high thinking, charged with warm emotion and bodied +forth in gorgeous imagery. Its doctrine is that only by taking refuge +in the realm of the Ideal can we escape from the tyranny of the flesh, +the bondage of Nature's law, the misery of struggle and defeat. Yet it +is not a doctrine of quietism that is here preached, as if inner peace +were the supreme thing in life, but rather one of hopeful endeavor. +_The Walk_, one of the finest elegies in the German language, is a +pensive retrospect of the origins of civilization, loving +contemplation of Nature giving rise to reflections on man and his +estate. _The Song of the Bell_, probably the best known of all +Schiller's poems, gives expression to his feeling for the dignity of +labor and for the poetry of man's social life. Perhaps we may say that +the heart of his message is found in this stanza of _The Words of +Illusion_: + + And so, noble soul, forget not the law, + And to the true faith be leal; + What ear never heard and eye never saw, + The Beautiful, the True, they are real. + Look not without, as the fool may do; + It is in thee and ever created anew. + +In 1797--_Hermann and Dorothea_ was just then under way--Goethe and +Schiller interchanged views by letter on the subject of epic poetry in +general and the ballad in particular. As they had both written ballads +in their youth, it was but natural that they should be led to fresh +experiments with the species. So they both began to make ballads for +next year's _Musenalmanach_. Schiller contributed five, among them the +famous _Diver_ and _The Cranes of Ibycus_. In after years he wrote +several more, of which the best, perhaps, are _The Pledge_, a stirring +version of the Damon and Pythias story, and _The Battle with the +Dragon_, which, however, was called a romanza instead of a ballad. The +interest of all these poems turns mainly, of course, on the story, but +also, in no small degree, on the splendid art which the poet displays. +They are quite unlike any earlier German ballads, owing nothing to the +folk-song and making no use of the uncanny, the gruesome, or the +supernatural. There is no mystery in them, no resort to verbal tricks +such as Brger had employed in _Lenore_. The subjects are not derived +from German folk-lore, but from Greek legend or medieval romance. +Their great merit is the strong and vivid, yet always noble, style +with which the details are set forth. + +[Illustration: THE CHURCH IN WHICH SCHILLER WAS MARRIED] + +We come back now to the province of art in which Schiller himself felt +that his strength lay, and to which he devoted nearly all his strength +during his remaining years. The very successful performance of the +complete _Wallenstein_ in the spring of 1799 added greatly to his +prestige, for discerning judges could see that something extraordinary +had been achieved. Weimar had by this time become the acknowledged +centre of German letters, and its modest little theatre now took on +fresh glory. Schiller had made himself very useful as a translator and +adapter, and Goethe was disposed to lean heavily on his friend's +superior knowledge of stage-craft. In order to be nearer to the +theatre and its director, Schiller moved over to Weimar in December, +1799, and took up his abode in what is now called the Schillerstrasse. +He was already working at _Mary Stuart_, which was finished the +following spring and first played on June 14, 1800. + +In _Mary Stuart_, as in _Wallenstein_, Schiller focused his light on a +famous personage who was the subject of passionate controversy. But of +course he did not wish to make a Catholic play, or a Protestant play, +or to have its effect dependent in any way on the spectator's +pre-assumed attitude toward the purely political questions involved. +So he decided to omit Mary's trial and to let the curtain rise on her +as a prisoner waiting for the verdict of her judges. This meant, +however, according to his conception of the tragic art, a pathetic +rather than a tragic situation; for the queen's fate would be a +foregone conclusion, and she could do nothing to avert it. To give her +the semblance of a tragic guilt he resorted to three unhistorical +inventions: First, an attempt to escape, with resulting complicity in +the act of the murderous Catholic fanatic Mortimer; second, a putative +love on the part of Mary for Leicester, who would use his great +influence to bring about a personal interview between her and +Elizabeth; and, finally, the meeting of the two queens, in which +Mary's long pent-up passion would get the better of her discretion and +betray her into a mortal insult of her rival. In reality, however, the +meeting of the two queens, while theatrically very effective, is not +the true climax of the play. That comes when Mary conquers her +rebellious spirit and accepts her ignominious fate as a divinely +appointed expiation for long-past sins. The play thus becomes a +tragedy of moral self-conquest in the presence of an undeserved death. + +Next in order came _The Maid of Orleans_, expressly called by its +author a romantic tragedy. It is a "rescue" of the Maid's character. +Shakespeare had depicted her as a witch, Voltaire as a vulgar fraud. +Schiller conceives her as a genuine ambassadress of God, or rather of +the Holy Virgin. Not only does he accept at its face value the +tradition of her "voices," her miraculous clairvoyance, her magic +influence on the French troops; but he makes her fight in the ranks +with men and gives to her a terrible avenging sword, before which no +Englishman can stand. But she, too, had to have her tragic guilt. So +Schiller makes her supernatural power depend--by the Virgin's express +command--on her renunciation of the love of man. A fleeting passion +for the English general Lionel, conceived on the battle-field in the +fury of combat, fills her with remorse and the sense of treason to her +high mission. For a while she is deprived of her self-confidence, and +with it of her supernatural power. There follow scenes of bitter +humiliation, until her expiation is complete. At last, purified by +suffering, she recovers her divine strength, breaks her fetters, +brings victory once more to the disheartened French soldiers, and dies +in glory on the field of battle. One sees that it is not at all the +real Jeanne d'Arc that Schiller depicts, but a glorified heroine +invested with divine power and called to be the savior of her country. +Here, for the first time in German drama, the passion of patriotism +plays an important part. + +After the completion of _The Maid of Orleans_ Schiller was minded to +try his hand on a tragedy "in the strictest Greek form." He had been +deeply impressed by the art of Sophocles and wished to create +something which should produce on the modern mind the effect of a +Greek tragedy, with its simple structure, its few characters, and +above all its chorus. But the choice of a subject was not easy, and +for several months he occupied himself with other matters. He made a +German version of Gozzi's _Turandot_ and took notes for a tragedy +about Perkin Warbeck. In the summer of 1802 he decided definitely to +carry out his plan of vying with the Greeks. _The Bride of Messina_ +was finished in February, 1803. While he was working at it there +arrived one day--it was in November, 1802--a patent of nobility from +the chancelry of the Holy Roman Empire. It may be noted in passing +that several years before he had been made an honorary citizen of the +French Republic, his name having been presented at the same time with +those of Washington, Wilberforce, and Kosciusko. + +Among the later plays of Schiller _The Bride of Messina_ is the one +which shows his stately poetic diction at its best, but has proved +least acceptable on the stage. As we have seen, it was an artistic +experiment. A medieval prince of Messina has an ominous dream which is +interpreted by an Arab astrologer to mean that a daughter to be born +will cause the death of his two sons, thus making an end of his +dynasty. When the child is born he orders it put to death. But +meanwhile his queen has had a dream of contrary import, and thereby +saves the life of her new-born daughter, but has her brought up remote +from the court. In time the two quarrelsome brothers, ignorant that +they have a sister, fall in love with the girl. One slays the other in +a frenzy of jealous rage, the other commits suicide in remorse. This +invention can hardly be called plausible. Indeed, so far as the mere +fable is concerned, it is a house of cards which would collapse any +moment at the breath of common sense. One must remember in reading the +play that common sense was not one of the nine muses. The dreams take +the place of the Delphic oracle, and the Greek chorus is represented +by two semi-choruses, the retainers of the quarreling brothers, who +speak their parts by the mouth of a leader, at one moment taking part +in the action, at another delivering the detached comment of the ideal +spectator. There is much splendid poetry in these pseudo-choruses, but +it was impossible that such a scheme should produce the effect of +the Greek choral dance. + +Did Schiller feel that in _The Bride of Messina_ he had wandered a +little too far away from the vital concerns of modern life? Probably, +for he next set to work on a play which should be popular in the best +sense of the word--_William Tell_. It is his one play with a happy +ending and has always been a prime favorite on the stage. The hero is +the Swiss people, and the action idealizes the legendary uprising of +the Forest Cantons against their Austrian governors. There are really +three separate actions: the conspiracy, the love-affair of Bertha and +Rudenz, the exploits of William Tell. All, however, contribute to the +common end, which is the triumph of the Swiss people over their +oppressors. The exposition is superb, there is rapidity of movement, +variety, picturesqueness, the glamor of romance; and the feelings +evoked are such as warm and keep warm the cockles of the heart. When +the famous actor Iffland received the manuscript of the first act, in +February, 1804, he wrote: + +"I have read, devoured, bent my knee; and my heart, my tears, my +rushing blood, have paid ecstatic homage to your spirit, to your +heart. Oh, more! Soon, soon more! Pages, scraps--whatever you can +send. I tender heart and hand to your genius. What a work! What +wealth, power, poetic beauty, and irresistible force! God keep you! +Amen." + +With _Tell_ off his hands Schiller next threw his tireless energy on a +Russian subject--the story of Dmitri, reputed son of Ivan the +Terrible. The reading, note-taking and planning proved a long +laborious task, and there were many interruptions. In November, 1804, +the hereditary Prince of Weimar brought home a Russian bride, Maria +Paulovna, and for her reception he wrote _The Homage of the Arts_--a +slight affair which served its purpose well. The reaction from these +Russophil festivities left him in a weakened condition, and, feeling +unequal to creative effort, he translated Racine's _Phdre_ into +German verse, finishing it in February, 1805. Then he returned with +great zest to his Russian play _Demetrius_, of which enough was +written to indicate that it might have become his masterpiece. But the +flame had burnt itself out. Toward the end of April he took a cold +which led to a violent fever with delirium. The end came on May 9, +1805. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER AT THE COURT OF WEIMAR] + +No attempt can here be made at a general estimate of Schiller's +dramatic genius. The serious poetic drama, such as he wrote in his +later years, is no longer in favor anywhere. In Germany, as in our own +land, the temper of the time is on the whole hostile to that form of +art. We demand, very properly, a drama attuned to the life of the +present; one occupied, as we say, with living issues. Yet Schiller is +very popular on the German stage. After the lapse of a century, and +notwithstanding the fact that he _seems_ to speak to us from the +clouds, he holds his own. Why is this? It is partly because of a +quality of his art that has been called his "monumental +fresco-painting"; that is, his strong and luminous portraiture of the +great historic forces that have shaped the destiny of nations. These +forces are matters of the spirit, of the inner life; and they persist +from age to age, but little affected by the changing fashion of the +theatre. The reader of Schiller soon comes to feel that he deals with +issues that are alive because they are immortal. + +Another important factor in his classicity is the suggestion that goes +out from his idealized personality. German sentiment has set him on a +high pedestal and made a hero of him, so that his word is not exactly +as another man's word. Something of this was felt by those about him +even in his lifetime. Says Karoline von Wolzogen: "High seriousness +and the winsome grace of a pure and noble soul were always present in +Schiller's conversation; in listening to him one walked as among the +changeless stars of heaven and the flowers of earth." This is the +tribute of a partial friend, but it describes very well the impression +produced by Schiller's writings. His love of freedom and beauty, his +confidence in reason, his devotion to the idea of humanity, seem to +exhale from his work and to invest it with a peculiar distinction. His +plays and poems are a priceless memento to the spirit of a great and +memorable epoch. Hundreds of writers have said their say about him, +but no better word has been spoken than the noble tribute of Goethe: + + For he was ours. So let the note of pride + Hush into silence all the mourner's ruth; + In our safe harbor he was fain to bide + And build for aye, after the storm of youth. + We saw his mighty spirit onward stride + To eternal realms of Beauty and of Truth; + While far behind him lay fantasmally + The vulgar things that fetter you and me. + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Translated by Edward, Lord Lytton.] + +[Footnote 2: This Sonnet, by the author of this sketch of Schiller's +life, was written for the Chicago Schiller Celebration of 1905, but +has not been printed before. EDITOR.] + + * * * * * + + + + +POEMS + + +[All poems in this section are translations by Edward, Lord Lytton, +and appear by permission of George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., London.] + + * * * * * + +TO THE IDEAL (1795) + + Then wilt thou, with thy fancies holy-- + Wilt thou, faithless, fly from me? + With thy joy, thy melancholy, + Wilt thou thus relentless flee? + O Golden Time, O Human May, + Can nothing, Fleet One, thee restraint? + Must thy sweet river glide away + Into the eternal Ocean Main? + + The suns serene are lost and vanish'd + That wont the path of youth to gild, + And all the fair Ideals banish'd + From that wild heart they whilome fill'd. + Gone the divine and sweet believing + In dreams which Heaven itself unfurl'd! + What godlike shapes have years bereaving + Swept from this real work-day world! + + As once, with tearful passion fired, + The Cyprian Sculptor clasp'd the stone, + Till the cold cheeks, delight-inspired, + Blush'd--to sweet life the marble grown: + So youth's desire for Nature!--round + The Statue so my arms I wreathed, + Till warmth and life in mine it found, + And breath that poets breathe--it breathed; + + With my own burning thoughts it burn'd;-- + Its silence stirr'd to speech divine;-- + Its lips my glowing kiss return'd-- + Its heart in beating answer'd mine! + How fair was then the flower--the tree!-- + How silver-sweet the fountain's fall! + The soulless had a soul to me! + My life its own life lent to all! + + The Universe of things seem'd swelling + The panting heart to burst its bound, + And wandering Fancy found a dwelling + In every shape, thought, deed, and sound. + Germ'd in the mystic buds, reposing, + A whole creation slumbered mute, + Alas, when from the buds unclosing, + How scant and blighted sprung the fruit! + + How happy in his dreaming error, + His own gay valor for his wing, + Of not one care as yet in terror + Did Youth upon his journey spring; + Till floods of balm, through air's dominion, + Bore upward to the faintest star-- + For never aught to that bright pinion + Could dwell too high, or spread too far. + + Though laden with delight, how lightly + The wanderer heavenward still could soar, + And aye the ways of life how brightly + The airy Pageant danced before! + Love, showering gifts (life's sweetest) down, + Fortune, with golden garlands gay, + And Fame, with starbeams for a crown, + And Truth, whose dwelling is the Day. + + Ah! midway soon lost evermore, + Afar the blithe companions stray; + In vain their faithless steps explore, + As one by one, they glide away. + Fleet Fortune was the first escaper-- + The thirst for wisdom linger'd yet; + But doubts with many a gloomy vapor + The sun-shape of the Truth beset! + + The holy crown which Fame was wreathing, + Behold! the mean man's temples wore, + And, but for one short spring-day breathing, + Bloom'd Love--the Beautiful--no more! + And ever stiller yet, and ever + The barren path more lonely lay, + Till scarce from waning Hope could quiver + A glance along the gloomy way. + + Who, loving, lingered yet to guide me, + When all her boon companions fled, + Who stands consoling yet beside me, + And follows to the House of Dread? + Thine FRIENDSHIP--thine the hand so tender, + Thine the balm dropping on the wound, + Thy task the load more lightly to render-- + O! earliest sought and soonest found! + + And Thou, so pleased, with her uniting, + To charm the soul-storm into peace, + Sweet TOIL, in toil itself delighting, + That more it labored, less could cease; + Tho' but by grains thou aid'st the pile + The vast Eternity uprears, + At least thou strik'st from Time the while + Life's debt--the minutes, days and years.[3] + + * * * * * + + + +THE VEILED IMAGE AT SAS (1795) + + + A youth, whom wisdom's warm desire had lured + To learn the secret lore of Egypt's priests, + To Sas came. And soon, from step to step + Of upward mystery, swept his rapid soul! + Still ever sped the glorious Hope along, + Nor could the parch'd Impatience halt, appeased + By the calm answer of the Hierophant-- + "What have I, if I have not all," he sigh'd; + "And giv'st thou but the little and the more? + Does thy truth dwindle to the gauge of gold, + A sum that man may smaller or less small + Possess and count--subtract or add to--still? + Is not TRUTH _one_ and indivisible? + Take from the Harmony a single tone + A single tint take from the Iris bow-- + And lo! what once was all, is nothing--while + Fails to the lovely whole one tint or tone!" + + They stood within the temple's silent dome, + And, as the young man paused abrupt, his gaze + Upon a veil'd and giant IMAGE fell: + Amazed he turn'd unto his guide--"And what + Towers, yonder, vast beneath the veil?" + "THE TRUTH," + Answered the Priest. + "And have I for the truth + Panted and struggled with a lonely soul, + And yon the thin and ceremonial robe + That wraps her from mine eyes?" + Replied the Priest, + "There shrouds herself the still Divinity. + Hear, and revere her best: 'Till I this veil + Lift--may no mortal-born presume to raise; + And who with guilty and unhallow'd hand + Too soon profanes the Holy and Forbidden-- + He,' says the goddess."-- + "Well?" + "'SHALL SEE THE TRUTH!'" + "And wond'rous oracle; and hast _thou_ never + Lifted the veil?" + "No! nor desired to raise!" + "What! nor desired? O strange, incurious heart, + Here the thin barrier--there reveal'd the truth!" + Mildly return'd the priestly master: "Son, + More mighty than thou dream'st of, Holy Law + Spreads interwoven in yon slender web, + Air-light to touch--lead-heavy to the soul!" + + The young man, thoughtful, turn'd him to his home, + And the sharp fever of the Wish to Know + Robb'd night of sleep. Around his couch he roll'd, + Till midnight hatch'd resolve-- + "Unto the shrine!" + Stealthily on, the involuntary tread + Bears him--he gains the boundary, scales the wall, + And midway in the inmost, holiest dome, + Strides with adventurous step the daring man. + + Now halts he where the lifeless Silence sleeps + In the embrace of mournful Solitude;-- + Silence unstirr'd--save where the guilty tread + Call'd the dull echo from mysterious vaults! + + High from the opening of the dome above, + Came with wan smile the silver-shining moon. + And, awful as some pale presiding god, + Dim-gleaming through the hush of that large gloom, + In its wan veil the Giant Image stood. + + With an unsteady step he onward past, + Already touch'd the violating hand + The Holy--and recoil'd! a shudder thrill'd + His limbs, fire-hot and icy-cold in turns, + As if invisible arms would pluck the soul + Back from the deed. + "O miserable man! + What would'st thou?" (Thus within the inmost heart + Murmur'd the warning whisper.) "Wilt thou dare + The All-hallow'd to profane? 'No mortal-born' + (So spake the oracular word)--'may lift the veil + Till I myself shall raise!' Yet said it not-- + The same oracular word--'who lifts the veil + Shall see the truth?' Behind, be what there may, + I dare the hazard--I will lift the veil--" + Loud rang his shouting voice--"and I will see!" + "SEE!" + A lengthen'd echo, mocking, shrill'd again! + He spoke and rais'd the veil! And ask'st thou what + Unto the sacrilegious gaze lay bare? + I know not--pale and senseless, stretch'd before + The statue of the great Egyptian queen, + The priests beheld him at the dawn of day; + But what he saw, or what did there befall, + His lips reveal'd not. Ever from his heart + Was fled the sweet serenity of life, + And the deep anguish dug the early grave + "Woe--woe to him"--such were his warning words, + Answering some curious and impetuous brain, + "Woe--for her face shall charm him never more! + Woe--woe to him who treads through Guilt to TRUTH!" + + * * * * * + + + +THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL LIFE (1795) + + I + + Forever fair, forever calm and bright, + Life flies on plumage, zephyr-light, + For those who on the Olympian hill rejoice-- + Moons wane, and races wither to the tomb, + And 'mid the universal ruin, bloom + The rosy days of Gods-- + With Man, the choice, + Timid and anxious, hesitates between + The sense's pleasure and the soul's content; + While on celestial brows, aloft and sheen, + The beams of both are blent. + + II + + Seek'st thou on earth the life of Gods to share, + Safe in the Realm of Death?--beware + To pluck the fruits that glitter to thine eye; + Content thyself with gazing on their glow-- + Short are the joys Possession can bestow, + And in Possession sweet Desire will die. + 'Twas not the ninefold chain of waves that bound + Thy daughter, Ceres, to the Stygian river-- + She pluck'd the fruit of the unholy ground, + And so--was Hell's forever! + + III + + The Weavers of the Web--the Fates--but sway + The matter and the things of clay; + Safe from each change that Time to Matter gives, + Nature's blest playmate, free at will to stray + With Gods a god, amidst the fields of Day, + The FORM, the ARCHETYPE,[4] serenely lives. + Would'st thou soar heavenward on its joyous wing? + Cast from thee, Earth, the bitter and the real, + High from this cramp'd and dungeon being, spring + Into the Realm of the Ideal! + + IV + + Here, bathed, Perfection, in thy purest ray, + Free from the clogs and taints of clay, + Hovers divine the Archetypal Man! + Dim as those phantom ghosts of life that gleam + And wander voiceless by the Stygian stream,-- + Fair as it stands in fields Elysian, + Ere down to Flesh the Immortal doth descend:-- + If doubtful ever in the Actual life + Each contest--_here_ a victory crowns the end + Of every nobler strife. + + V + + Not from the strife itself to set thee free, + But more to nerve--doth Victory + Wave her rich garland from the Ideal clime. + Whate'er thy wish, the Earth has no repose-- + Life still must drag thee onward as it flows, + Whirling thee down the dancing surge of Time. + But when the courage sinks beneath the dull + Sense of its narrow limits--on the soul, + Bright from the hill-tops of the Beautiful, + Bursts the attaind goal! + + VI + + If worth thy while the glory and the strife + Which fire the lists of Actual Life-- + The ardent rush to fortune or to fame, + In the hot field where Strength and Valor are, + And rolls the whirling thunder of the car, + And the world, breathless, eyes the glorious game-- + Then dare and strive--the prize can but belong + To him whose valor o'er his tribe prevails; + In life the victory only crowns the strong-- + He who is feeble fails. + + VII + + But Life, whose source, by crags around it pil'd, + Chafed while confin'd, foams fierce and wild, + Glides soft and smooth when once its streams expand, + When its waves, glassing in their silver play, + Aurora blent with Hesper's milder ray, + Gain the Still BEAUTIFUL--that Shadow-Land! + Here, contest grows but interchange of Love; + All curb is but the bondage of the Grace; + Gone is each foe,--Peace folds her wings above + Her native dwelling-place. + + VIII + + When, through dead stone to breathe a soul of light, + With the dull matter to unite + The kindling genius, some great sculptor glows; + Behold him straining every nerve intent-- + Behold how, o'er the subject element, + The stately THOUGHT its march laborious goes! + For never, save to Toil untiring, spoke + The unwilling Truth from her mysterious well-- + The statue only to the chisel's stroke + Wakes from its marble cell. + + IX + + But onward to the Sphere of Beauty--go + Onward, O Child of Art! and, lo, + Out of the matter which thy pains control + The Statue springs!--not as with labor wrung + From the hard block, but as from Nothing sprung-- + Airy and light--the offspring of the soul! + The pangs, the cares, the weary toils it cost + Leave not a trace when once the work is done-- + The Artist's human frailty merged and lost + In Art's great victory won! + + X + + If human Sin confronts the rigid law + Of perfect Truth and Virtue, awe + Seizes and saddens thee to see how far + Beyond thy reach, Perfection;--if we test + By the Ideal of the Good, the best, + How mean our efforts and our actions are! + This space between the Ideal of man's soul + And man's achievement, who hath ever past? + An ocean spreads between us and that goal + Where anchor ne'er was cast! + + XI + + But fly the boundary of the Senses--live + The Ideal life free Thought can give; + And, lo, the gulf shall vanish, and the chill + Of the soul's impotent despair be gone! + And with divinity thou sharest the throne, + Let but divinity become thy will! + Scorn not the Law--permit its iron band + The sense (it cannot chain the soul) to thrall. + Let man no more the will of Jove withstand, + And Jove the bolt lets fall! + + XII + + If, in the woes of Actual Human Life-- + If thou could'st see the serpent strife + Which the Greek Art has made divine in stone-- + Could'st see the writhing limbs, the livid cheek, + Note every pang, and hearken every shriek + Of some despairing lost Laocoon, + The human nature would thyself subdue + To share the human woe before thine eye-- + Thy cheek would pale, and all thy soul be true + To Man's great Sympathy. + + XIII + + But in the Ideal Realm, aloof and far, + Where the calm Art's pure dwellers are, + Lo, the Laocoon writhes, but does not groan. + Here, no sharp grief the high emotion knows-- + Here, suffering's self is made divine, and shows + The brave resolve of the firm soul alone: + Here, lovely as the rainbow on the dew + Of the spent thunder-cloud, to Art is given, + Gleaming through Grief's dark veil, the peaceful blue + Of the sweet Moral Heaven. + + XIV + + So, in the glorious parable, behold + How, bow'd to mortal bonds, of old + Life's dreary path divine Alcides trod: + The hydra and the lion were his prey, + And to restore the friend he loved today, + He went undaunted to the black-brow'd God; + And all the torments and the labors sore + Wroth Juno sent--the meek majestic One, + With patient spirit and unquailing, bore, + Until the course was run-- + + XV + + Until the God cast down his garb of clay, + And rent in hallowing flame away + The mortal part from the divine--to soar + To the empyreal air! Behold him spring + Blithe in the pride of the unwonted wing, + And the dull matter that confined before + Sinks downward, downward, downward as a dream! + Olympian hymns receive the escaping soul, + And smiling Hebe, from the ambrosial stream, + Fills for a God the bowl! + + * * * * * + + + +GENIUS (1795) + + Do I believe, thou ask'st, the Master's word, + The Schoolman's shibboleth that binds the herd? + To the soul's haven is there but one chart? + Its peace a problem to be learned by art? + On system rest the happy and the good? + To base the temple must the props be wood? + Must I distrust the gentle law, imprest, + To guide and warn, by Nature on the breast, + Till, squared to rule the instinct of the soul,-- + Till the School's signet stamp the eternal scroll, + Till in one mold some dogma hath confined + The ebb and flow--the light waves--of the mind? + Say thou, familiar to these depths of gloom, + Thou, safe ascended from the dusty tomb, + Thou, who hast trod these weird Egyptian cells-- + Say--if Life's comfort with yon mummies dwells!-- + Say--and I grope--with saddened steps indeed-- + But on, thro' darkness, if to Truth it lead! + + Nay, Friend, thou know'st the golden time--the age + Whose legends live in many a poet's page? + When heavenlier shapes with Man walked side by side, + And the chaste Feeling was itself a guide; + Then the great law, alike divine amid + Suns bright in Heaven, or germs in darkness hid-- + That silent law--(call'd whether by the name + Of Nature or Necessity, the same), + To that deep sea, the heart, its movement gave-- + Sway'd the full tide, and freshened the free wave. + Then sense unerring--because unreproved-- + True as the finger on the dial moved, + Half-guide, half-playmate, of Earth's age of youth, + The sportive instinct of Eternal Truth. + Then, nor Initiate nor Profane were known; + Where the Heart felt--there Reason found a throne: + Not from the dust below, but life around + Warm Genius shaped what quick Emotion found. + One rule, like light, for every bosom glowed, + Yet hid from all the fountain whence it flowed. + But, gone that blessed Age!--our wilful pride + Has lost, with Nature, the old peaceful Guide. + Feeling, no more to raise us and rejoice, + Is heard and honored as a Godhead's voice; + And, disenhallowed in its eldest cell + The Human Heart--lies mute the Oracle, + Save where the low and mystic whispers thrill + Some listening spirit more divinely still. + There, in the chambers of the inmost heart, + There, must the Sage explore the Magian's art; + There, seek the long-lost Nature's steps to track, + Till, found once more, she gives him Wisdom back! + Hast thou--(O Blest, if so, whate'er betide!)-- + Still kept the Guardian Angel by thy side? + Can thy Heart's guileless childhood yet rejoice + In the sweet instinct with its warning voice? + Does Truth yet limn upon untroubled eyes, + Pure and serene, her world of Iris-dies? + Rings clear the echo which her accent calls + Back from the breast, on which the music falls? + In the calm mind is doubt yet hush'd--and will + That doubt tomorrow, as today, be still? + Will all these fine sensations in their play, + No censor need to regulate and sway? + Fear'st thou not in the insidious Heart to find + The source of Trouble to the limpid mind? + + No!--then thine Innocence thy Mentor be! + Science can teach thee naught--she learns from thee! + Each law that lends lame succor to the Weak-- + The cripple's crutch--the vigorous need not seek! + From thine own self thy rule of action draw; + That which thou dost--what charms thee--is thy Law, + And founds to every race a code sublime-- + What pleases Genius gives a Law to Time! + The Word--the Deed--all Ages shall command, + Pure if thy lip and holy if thy hand! + Thou, thou alone mark'st not within thy heart + The inspiring God whose Minister thou art, + Know'st not the magic of the mighty ring + Which bows the realm of Spirits to their King: + But meek, nor conscious of diviner birth, + Glide thy still footsteps thro' the conquered Earth! + + * * * * * + + + +VOTIVE TABLETS + +[Under this title Schiller arranged that more dignified and +philosophical portion of the small Poems published as Epigrams in the +_Musen Almanach_; which rather sought to point a general thought, than +a personal satire.--Many of these, however, are either wholly without +interest for the English reader, or express in almost untranslatable +laconism what, in far more poetical shapes, Schiller has elsewhere +repeated and developed. We, therefore, content ourselves with such a +selection as appears to us best suited to convey a fair notion of the +object and spirit of the class.--Translator] + + * * * * * + + +MOTTO TO THE VOTIVE TABLETS. + + What the God taught--what has befriended all + Life's ways, I place upon the Votive Wall. + + * * * * * + + +THE GOOD AND THE BEAUTIFUL + +(ZWEIERLEI WIRKUNGSARTEN) + + The Good's the Flower to Earth already given-- + The Beautiful, on Earth sows flowers from Heaven! + + * * * * * + + +VALUE AND WORTH + + If thou _hast_ something, bring thy goods--a fair return be thine; + If thou _art_ something, bring thy soul and interchange with mine. + + * * * * * + + +THE KEY + + To know _thyself_--in others self discern; + Wouldst thou know others? Read thyself--and learn! + + * * * * * + + +THE DIVISION OF RANKS + + Yes, in the moral world, as ours, we see + Divided grades--a Soul's Nobility; + By deeds their titles Commoners create-- + The loftier order are by birthright great.[5] + + * * * * * + + +TO THE MYSTIC + + Spreads Life's true mystery round us evermore, + Seen by no eye, it lies all eyes before. + + * * * * * + + +WISDOM AND PRUDENCE + + Wouldst thou the loftiest height of Wisdom gain? + On to the rashness, Prudence would disdain; + The purblind see but the receding shore, + Not that to which the bold wave wafts thee o'er! + + * * * * * + + +THE UNANIMITY + + Truth seek we both--Thou, in the life without thee and around; + I in the Heart within--by both can Truth alike be found; + The healthy eye can through the world the great Creator track-- + The healthy heart is but the glass which gives creation back. + + * * * * * + + +THE SCIENCE OF POLITICS + + All that thou dost be right--to that alone confine thy view, + And halt within the certain rule--the All that's right to do! + True zeal _the what already is_ would sound and perfect see; + False zeal would sound and perfect make the something that's to be! + + * * * * * + + +TO ASTRONOMERS + + Of the Nebul and planets do not babble so to me; + What! is Nature only mighty inasmuch as you can see? + Inasmuch as you can measure her immeasurable ways, + As she renders world on world, sun and system to your gaze? + Though through space your object be the Sublimest to embrace, + Never the Sublime abideth--where you vainly search--in space! + + * * * * * + + +THE BEST GOVERNED STATE + + How the best state to know?--It is found out, + Like the best women--that least talked about. + + * * * * * + + +MY BELIEF + + What thy religion? Those thou namest--none! + None! Why?--Because I have religion! + + * * * * * + + +FRIEND AND FOE + + Dear is my friend--yet from my foe, as from my friend, comes good; + My friend shows what I _can_ do, and my foe shows what I _should_. + + * * * * * + + +LIGHT AND COLOR + + Dwell, Light, beside the changeless God--God spoke and Light began; + Come, thou, the ever-changing one--come, Color, down to Man! + + * * * * * + + +FORUM OF WOMEN + + Woman--to judge man rightly--do not scan + Each separate act;--pass judgment on the Man! + + * * * * * + + +GENIUS + + Intellect can repeat what's been fulfill'd, + And, aping Nature, as she buildeth--build; + O'er Nature's base can haughty Reason dare + To pile its lofty castle--in the air. + But only thine, O Genius, is the charge, + In Nature's kingdom Nature to enlarge! + + * * * * * + + +THE IMITATOR + + Good out of good--that art is known to all-- + But Genius from the bad the good can call; + Then, Mimic, not from leading-strings escaped, + Work'st but the matter that's already shaped + The already-shaped a nobler hand awaits-- + All matter asks a Spirit that _creates!_ + + * * * * * + + +CORRECTNESS + +(FREE TRANSLATION) + + The calm correctness, where no fault we see, + Attests Art's loftiest or its least degree; + Alike the smoothness of the surface shows + The Pool's dull stagner--the great Sea's repose. + + * * * * * + + +THE MASTER + + The herd of scribes, by what they tell us, + Show all in which their wits excel us; + But the True Master we behold, + In what his art leaves--just untold. + + * * * * * + + +EXPECTATION AND FULFILLMENT + + O'er Ocean, with a thousand masts, sails forth the stripling bold-- + One boat, hard rescued from the deep, draws into port the old! + + * * * * * + + +THE PROSELYTE MAKER + + "A little earth from out the Earth-and I + The Earth will move:" so spake the Sage divine. + Out of myself one little moment--try + Myself to take:--succeed, and I am thine! + + * * * * * + + +THE CONNECTING MEDIUM + + What to cement the lofty and the mean + Does Nature?--What?--Place vanity between? + + * * * * * + + +THE MORAL POET + +[This is an Epigram on Lavater's work, called "Pontius Pilatus, oder der +Mensch in Allen Gestalten," etc.--TRANSLATOR.] + + "How poor a thing is man!" Alas, 'tis true + I'd half forgot it--when I chanced on you! + + * * * * * + + +THE SUBLIME THEME + +[Also on Lavater, and alluding to the "Jesus Messias, oder die Evangelien +und Apostelgeschichte in Gesngen."--TRANSLATOR.] + + How God compassionates Mankind, thy muse, my friend, rehearses-- + Compassion for the sins of Man!--What comfort for thy verses! + + * * * * * + + +SCIENCE + + To some she is the Goddess great, to some the milch-cow of the field; + Their care is but to calculate--what butter she will yield. + + * * * * * + + +KANT AND HIS COMMENTATORS + + How many starvelings one rich man can nourish! + When monarchs build, the rubbish-carriers flourish. + + * * * * * + + +THE MAIDEN FROM AFAR (1796) + + Within a vale, each infant year, + When earliest larks first carol free, + To humble shepherds doth appear + A wondrous maiden, fair to see. + Not born within that lowly place-- + From whence she wander'd, none could tell; + Her parting footsteps left no trace, + When once the maiden bade farewell. + + And blessd was her presence there-- + Each heart, expanding, grew more gay; + Yet something loftier still than fair + Kept man's familiar looks away. + From fairy gardens, known to none, + She brought mysterious fruits and flowers-- + The things of some serener sun-- + Some Nature more benign than ours. + + With each, her gifts the maiden shared-- + To some the fruits, the flowers to some; + Alike the young, the aged fared; + Each bore a blessing back to home. + Though every guest was welcome there, + Yet some the maiden held more dear, + And cull'd her rarest sweets whene'er + She saw two hearts that loved draw near. + + * * * * * + + +THE GLOVE (1797) + +A TALE + + Before his lion-court, + To see the gruesome sport, + Sate the king; + Beside him group'd his princely peers; + And dames aloft, in circling tiers, + Wreath'd round their blooming ring. + King Francis, where he sate, + Raised a finger--yawn'd the gate, + And, slow from his repose, + A LION goes! + Dumbly he gazed around + The foe-encircled ground; + And, with a lazy gape, + He stretch'd his lordly shape, + And shook his careless mane, + And--laid him down again! + +[Illustration: THE KNIGHT SCORNS CUNIGONDE Eugen Klimsch] + + A finger raised the king-- + And nimbly have the guard + A second gate unbarr'd; + Forth, with a rushing spring, + A TIGER sprung! + Wildly the wild one yell'd + When the lion he beheld; + And, bristling at the look, + With his tail his sides he strook, + And roll'd his rabid tongue; + In many a wary ring + He swept round the forest king, + With a fell and rattling sound;-- + And laid him on the ground, + Grommelling! + The king raised his finger; then + Leap'd two LEOPARDS from the den + With a bound; + And boldly bounded they + Where the crouching tiger lay + Terrible! + And he gripped the beasts in his deadly hold; + In the grim embrace they grappled and roll'd; + Rose the lion with a roar! + And stood the strife before; + And the wild-cats on the spot, + From the blood-thirst, wroth and hot, + Halted still! + Now from the balcony above, + A snowy hand let fall a glove:-- + Midway between the beasts of prey, + Lion and tiger; there it lay, + The winsome lady's glove! + +Fair Cunigonde said, with a lip of scorn, +To the knight DELORGES--"If the love you have sworn +Were as gallant and leal as you boast it to be, +I might ask you to bring back that glove to me!" + +The knight left the place where the lady sate; +The knight he has pass'd thro' the fearful gate; +The lion and tiger he stoop'd above, +And his fingers have closed on the lady's glove! + +All shuddering and stunn'd, they beheld him there-- +The noble knights and the ladies fair; +But loud was the joy and the praise, the while +He bore back the glove with his tranquil smile! + +With a tender look in her softening eyes, +That promised reward to his warmest sighs, +Fair Cunigonde rose her knight to grace; +He toss'd the glove in the lady's face! +"Nay, spare me the guerdon, at least," quoth he; +And he left forever that fair ladye! + + * * * * * + + + +[Illustration: THE DIVER CARL GEHRTS] + +THE DIVER (1797) + +A BALLAD + + +[The original of the story on which Schiller has founded this ballad, +matchless perhaps for the power and grandeur of its descriptions, is +to be found in Kircher. According to the true principles of imitative +art, Schiller has preserved all that is striking in the legend, and +ennobled all that is common-place. The name of the Diver was Nicholas, +surnamed the Fish. The King appears, according to Hoffmeister's +probable conjectures, to have been either Frederic I. or Frederic II., +of Sicily. Date from 1295 to 1377.] + + "Oh, where is the knight or the squire so bold, + As to dive to the howling charybdis below?-- + I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold, + And o'er it already the dark waters flow; + Whoever to me may the goblet bring, + Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his king." + + He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep, + That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge + Of the endless and measureless world of the deep, + Swirl'd into the malstrom that madden'd the surge. + "And where is the diver so stout to go-- + I ask ye again--to the deep below?" + And the knights and the squires that gather'd around, + Stood silent--and fix'd on the ocean their eyes; + + They look'd on the dismal and savage Profound, + And the peril chill'd back every thought of the prize. + And thrice spoke the monarch--"The cup to win, + Is there never a wight who will venture in?" + + And all as before heard in silence the king-- + Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle, + 'Mid the tremulous squires--stept out from the ring, + Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle; + And the murmuring crowd as they parted asunder, + On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder. + + As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave + One glance on the gulf of that merciless main; + Lo! the wave that forever devours the wave + Casts roaringly up the charybdis again; + And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom, + Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom. + + And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,[6] + As when fire is with water commix'd and contending, + And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, + And flood upon flood hurries on, never-ending. + And it never _will_ rest, nor from travail be free, + Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea. + + Yet, at length, comes a lull O'er the mighty commotion, + As the whirlpool sucks into black smoothness the swell + Of the white-foaming breakers--and cleaves thro' the ocean + A path that seems winding in darkness to hell. + Round and round whirl'd the waves-deeper and deeper + still driven, + Like a gorge thro' the mountainous main thunder-riven! + + The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before + That path through the riven abyss closed again-- + Hark! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore, + And, behold! he is whirl'd in the grasp of the main! + And o'er him the breakers mysteriously roll'd, + And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold. + + O'er the surface grim silence lay dark; but the crowd + Heard the wail from the deep murmur hollow and fell; + They hearken and shudder, lamenting aloud-- + "Gallant youth-noble heart-fare-thee-well, fare-thee-well!" + More hollow and more wails the deep on the ear-- + More dread and more dread grows suspense in its fear. + + If thou should'st in those waters thy diadem fling, + And cry, "Who may find it shall win it and wear;" + God wot, though the prize were the crown of a king-- + A crown at such hazard were valued too dear. + For never shall lips of the living reveal + What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal. + + Oh, many a bark, to that breast grappled fast, + Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave; + Again, crash'd together the keel and the mast, + To be seen, toss'd aloft in the glee of the wave. + Like the growth of a storm, ever louder and clearer, + Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer. + + And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars, + As when fire is with water commix'd and contending; + And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, + And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending; + And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom + Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom. + + And, lo! from the heart of that far-floating gloom,[7] + What gleams on the darkness so swanlike and white? + Lo! an arm and a neck, glancing up from the tomb!-- + They battle--the Man's with the Element's might. + It is he--it is he! In his left hand, behold! + As a sign!--as a joy!--shines the goblet of gold! + + And he breathed deep, and he breathed long, + And he greeted the heavenly delight of the day. + They gaze on each other--they shout, as they throng-- + "He lives--lo the ocean has render'd its prey! + And safe from the whirlpool and free from the grave, + Comes back to the daylight the soul of the brave!" + + And he comes, with the crowd in their clamor and glee, + And the goblet his daring has won from the water, + He lifts to the king as he sinks on his knee;-- + And the king from her maidens has beckon'd his daughter-- + She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring, + And thus spake the Diver--"Long life to the king! + + "Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice, + The air and the sky that to mortals are given! + May the horror below never more find a voice-- + Nor Man stretch too far the wide mercy of Heaven! + Never more--never more may he lift from the sight + The veil which is woven with Terror and Night! + + "Quick-brightening like lightning--it tore me along, + Down, down, till the gush of a torrent, at play + In the rocks of its wilderness, caught me--and strong + As the wings of an eagle, it whirl'd me away. + Vain, vain was my struggle--the circle had won me, + Round and round in its dance, the wild element spun me. + + "And I call'd on my God, and my God heard my prayer + In the strength of my need, in the gasp of my breath-- + And show'd me a crag that rose up from the lair, + And I clung to it, nimbly--and baffled the death! + And, safe in the perils around me, behold + On the spikes of the coral the goblet of gold! + + "Below, at the foot of the precipice drear, + Spread the gloomy, and purple, and pathless Obscure! + A silence of Horror that slept on the ear, + That the eye more appall'd might the Horror endure! + Salamander--snake--dragon--vast reptiles that dwell + In the deep-coil'd about the grim jaws of their hell. + + "Dark-crawl'd--glided dark the unspeakable swarms, + Clump'd together in masses, misshapen and vast-- + Here clung and here bristled the fashionless forms-- + Here the dark-moving bulk of the Hammer-fish pass'd-- + And with teeth grinning white, and a menacing motion, + Went the terrible Shark--the Hyena of Ocean. + + "There I hung, and the awe gather'd icily o'er me, + So far from the earth, where man's help there was none! + The One Human Thing, with the Goblins before me-- + Alone--in a loneness so ghastly--ALONE! + Fathom-deep from man's eye in the speechless profound, + With the death of the Main and the Monsters around. + + "Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now + IT[8] saw--the dread hundred-limbed creature-its prey! + And darted--O God! from the far flaming-bough + Of the coral, I swept on the horrible way; + And it seized me, the wave with its wrath and its roar, + It seized me to save--King, the danger is o'er!" + + On the youth gazed the monarch, and marvel'd; quoth he, + "Bold Diver, the goblet I promised is thine, + And this ring will I give, a fresh guerdon to thee, + Never jewels more precious shone up from the mine, + If thou'lt bring me fresh tidings, and venture again + To tell what lies hid in the _innermost_ main?" + + Then outspake the daughter in tender emotion + "Ah! father, my father, what more can there rest? + Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean-- + He has served thee as none would, thyself has confest. + If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of desire, + Let thy knights put to shame the exploit of the squire!" + + The king seized the goblet--he swung it on high, + And whirling, it fell in the roar of the tide: + "But bring back that goblet again to my eye, + And I'll hold thee the dearest that rides by my side; + And thine arms shall embrace, as thy bride, I decree, + The maiden whose pity now pleadeth for thee." + + In his heart, as he listen'd, there leapt the wild joy-- + And the hope and the love through his eyes spoke in fire, + On that bloom, on that blush, gazed delighted the boy; + The maiden-she faints at the feet of her sire! + Here the guerdon divine, there the danger beneath; + He resolves! To the strife with the life and the death! + + They hear the loud surges sweep back in their swell, + Their coming the thunder-sound heralds along! + Fond eyes yet are tracking the spot where he fell: + They come, the wild waters, in tumult and throng, + Roaring up to the cliff--roaring back, as before, + But no wave ever brings the lost youth to the shore. + + * * * * + + + +THE CRANES OF IBYCUS (1797) + + + From Rhegium to the Isthmus, long + Hallow'd to steeds and glorious song, + Where, link'd awhile in holy peace, + Meet all the sons of martial Greece-- + Wends Ibycus-whose lips the sweet + And ever-young Apollo fires; + The staff supports the wanderer's feet-- + The God the Poet's soul inspires! + + Soon from the mountain-ridges high, + The tower-crown'd Corinth greets his eye; + In Neptune's groves of darksome pine, + He treads with shuddering awe divine; + Nought lives around him, save a swarm + Of CRANES, that still pursued his way. + Lured by the South, they wheel and form + In ominous groups their wild array. + + And "Hail! beloved Birds!" he cried; + "My comrades on the ocean tide, + Sure signs of good ye bode to me; + Our lots alike would seem to be; + From far, together borne, we greet + A shelter now from toil and danger; + And may the friendly hearts we meet + Preserve from every ill--the Stranger!" + + His step more light, his heart more gay, + Along the mid-wood winds his way, + When, where the path the thickets close, + Burst sudden forth two ruffian foes; + Now strife to strife, and foot to foot! + Ah! weary sinks the gentle hand; + The gentle hand that wakes the lute + Has learn'd no lore that guides the brand. + + He calls on men and Gods--in vain! + His cries no blest deliverer gain; + Feebler and fainter grows the sound, + And still the deaf life slumbers round-- + "In the far land I fall forsaken, + Unwept and unregarded, here; + By death from caitiff hands o'ertaken, + Nor ev'n one late avenger near!" + + Down to the earth the death-stroke bore him-- + Hark, where the Cranes wheel dismal o'er him! + He hears, as darkness veils his eyes, + Near, in hoarse croak, their dirge-like cries. + "Ye whose wild wings above me hover, + (Since never voice, save yours alone, + The deed can tell)--the hand discover-- + Avenge!"--He spoke, and life was gone. + + Naked and maim'd the corpse was found-- + And, still through many a mangling wound, + The sad Corinthian Host could trace + The loved--too well-remember'd face. + "And must I meet thee thus once more? + Who hoped with wreaths of holy pine, + Bright with new fame--the victory o'er-- + The Singer's temples to entwine!" + + And loud lamented every guest + Who held the Sea-God's solemn feast-- + As in a single heart prevailing, + Throughout all Hellas went the wailing. + Wild to the Council Hall they ran-- + In thunder rush'd the threat'ning Flood-- + "Revenge shall right the murder'd man, + The last atonement-blood for blood!" + + Yet 'mid the throng the Isthmus claims, + Lured by the Sea-God's glorious games-- + The mighty many-nation'd throng-- + How track the hand that wrought the wrong?-- + How guess if that dread deed were done, + By ruffian hands, or secret foes? + He who sees all on earth--the SUN-- + Alone the gloomy secret knows. + + Perchance he treads in careless peace, + Amidst your Sons, assembled Greece; + Hears with a smile revenge decreed; + Gloats with fell joy upon the deed. + His steps the avenging gods may mock + Within the very Temple's wall, + Or mingle with the crowds that flock + To yonder solemn scenic[9] hall. + + Wedg'd close, and serried, swarms the crowd-- + Beneath the weight the walls are bow'd-- + Thitherwards streaming far, and wide, + Broad Hellas flows in mingled tide tide-- + A tide like that which heaves the deep + When hollow-sounding, shoreward driven; + On, wave on wave, the thousands sweep + Till arching, row on row, to heaven! + + The tribes, the nations, who shall name, + That guest-like, there assembled came? + From Theseus' town, from Aulis' strand-- + From Phocis, from the Spartans' land-- + From Asia's wave-divided clime, + The Isles that gem the gean Sea, + To hearken on that Stage Sublime, + The Dark Choir's mournful melody! + + True to the awful rites of old, + In long and measured strides, behold + The Chorus from the hinder ground, + Pace the vast circle's solemn round. + So this World's women never strode-- + Their race from Mortals ne'er began; + Gigantic, from their grim abode, + They tower above the Sons of Man! + + Across their loins the dark robe clinging, + In fleshless hands the torches swinging, + Now to and fro, with dark red glow-- + No blood that lives the dead cheeks know! + Where flow the locks that woo to love + On _human_ temples--ghastly dwell + The serpents, coil'd the brow above, + And the green asps with poison swell. + + Thus circling, horrible, within + That space--doth their dark hymn begin, + And round the sinner as they go, + Cleave to the heart their words of woe. + Dismally wails, the senses chilling, + The hymn--the FURIES' solemn song; + And froze the very marrow thrilling + As roll'd the gloomy sounds along. + + And weal to him--from crime secure-- + Who keeps his soul as childhood's pure; + Life's path he roves, a wanderer free-- + We near him not-THE AVENGERS, WE, + But woe to him for whom we weave + The doom for deeds that shun the light: + Fast to the murderer's feet we cleave, + The fearful Daughters of the Night. + + "And deems he flight from us can hide him? + Still on dark wings We sail beside him! + The murderer's feet the snare enthralls-- + Or soon or late, to earth he falls! + Untiring, hounding on, we go; + For blood can no remorse atone I + On, ever--to the Shades below, + And there--we grasp him, still our own!" + + So singing, their slow dance they wreathe, + And stillness, like a silent death, + Heavily there lay cold and drear, + As if the Godhead's self were near. + Then, true to those strange rites of old, + Pacing the circle's solemn round, + In long and measured strides--behold, + They vanish in the hinder ground! + + Confused and doubtful--half between + The solemn truth and phantom scene, + The crowd revere the Power, presiding + O'er secret deeps, to justice guiding-- + The Unfathom'd and Inscrutable + By whom the web of doom is spun, + Whose shadows in the deep heart dwell, + Whose form is seen not in the sun! + + Just then, amidst the highest tier, + Breaks forth a voice that starts the ear; + "See there--see there, Timotheus, + Behold the Cranes of Ibycus!" + A sudden darkness wraps the sky; + Above the roofless building hover + Dusk, swarming wings; and heavily + Sweep the slow Cranes, hoarse-murmuring, over! + + "Of Ibycus?"--that name so dear + Thrills through the hearts of those who hear! + Like wave on wave in eager seas, + From mouth to mouth the murmur flees-- + "Of Ibycus, whom we bewail! + The murder'd one! What mean those words? + Who is the man--knows _he_ the tale? + Why link that name with those wild birds?" + + Questions on questions louder press-- + Like lightning flies the inspiring guess-- + Leaps every heart--"The truth we seize; + Your might is here, EUMENIDES! + The murderer yields himself confest-- + Vengeance is near--that voice the token-- + Ho!-him who yonder spoke, arrest! + And him to whom the words were spoken!" + + Scarce had the wretch the words let fall, + Than fain their sense he would recall + In vain; those whitening lips--behold! + The secret have already told. + Into their Judgment Court sublime + The Scene is changed;--their doom is seal'd! + Behold the dark unwitness'd Crime, + Struck by the lightning that reveal'd! + + * * * * * + + + +THE WORDS OF BELIEF (1797) + + + Three Words will I name thee--around and about, + From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; + But they had not their birth in the being without, + And the heart, not the lip, must their oracle be! + And all worth in the man shall for ever be o'er + When in those Three Words he believes no more. + + Man is made FREE!--Man, by birthright, is free, + Though the tyrant may deem him but born for his tool. + Whatever the shout of the rabble may be-- + Whatever the ranting misuse of the fool-- + Still fear not the Slave, when he breaks from his chain, + For the Man made a Freeman grows safe in his gain. + + And Virtue is more than a shade or a sound, + And Man may her voice, in this being, obey; + And though ever he slip on the stony ground, + Yet, ever again to the godlike way, + To the _science_ of Good though the Wise may be blind, + Yet the _practice_ is plain to the childlike mind. + + And a God there is--over Space, over Time; + While the Human Will rocks, like a reed, to and fro, + Lives the Will of the Holy--A Purpose Sublime, + A Thought woven over creation below; + Changing and shifting the All we inherit, + But changeless through all One Immutable Spirit! + + Hold fast the Three Words of Belief--though about + From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; + Yet they take not their birth from the being without-- + But a voice from within must their oracle be; + And never all worth in the Man can be o'er, + Till in those Three Words he believes no more. + + * * * * * + + + +THE WORDS OF ERROR (1799) + + + Three Errors there are, that for ever are found + On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; + But empty their meaning and hollow their sound-- + And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast. + + The fruits of existence escape from the clasp + Of the seeker who strives but those shadows to grasp-- + So long as Man dreams of some Age in _this_ life + When the Right and the Good will all evil subdue; + For the Right and the Good lead us ever to strife, + And wherever they lead us, the Fiend will pursue. + + And (till from the earth borne, and stifled at length) + The earth that he touches still gifts him with strength![10] + So long as Man fancies that Fortune will live, + Like a bride with her lover, united with Worth; + For her favors, alas! to the mean she will give-- + And Virtue possesses no title to earth! + That Foreigner wanders to regions afar, + Where the lands of her birthright immortally are! + + So long as Man dreams that, to mortals a gift, + The Truth in her fulness of splendor will shine; + The veil of the goddess no earth-born may lift, + And all we can learn is--to guess and divine I + Dost thou seek, in a dogma, to prison her form? + The spirit flies forth on the wings of the storm! + O, Noble Soul! fly from delusions like these, + More heavenly belief be it thine to adore; + Where the Ear never hearkens, the Eye never sees, + Meet the rivers of Beauty and Truth evermore! + Not _without_ thee the streams--there the Dull seek them;--No! + Look _within_ thee--behold both the fount and the flow! + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration: THE LAY OF THE BELL JULIUS BENEZUR] + +THE LAY OF THE BELL[11] (1799) + + + "_Vivos voco--Mortuos plango--Fulgura frango_." [12] + + I + + Fast in its prison-walls of earth, + Awaits the mold of bakd clay. + Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- + THE BELL that shall be born today! + Who would honor obtain, + With the sweat and the pain, + The praise that Man gives to the Master must buy!-- + But the blessing withal must descend from on high! + And well an earnest word beseems + The work the earnest hand prepares; + Its load more light the labor deems, + When sweet discourse the labor shares. + So let us ponder--nor in vain-- + What strength can work when labor wills; + For who would not the fool disdain + Who ne'er designs what he fulfils? + And well it stamps our Human Race, + And hence the gift To UNDERSTAND, + That Man within the heart should trace + Whate'er he fashions with the hand. + + II + + From the fir the faggot take, + Keep it, heap it hard and dry, + That the gathered flame may break + Through the furnace, wroth and high. + When the copper within + Seethes and simmers--the tin + Pour quick, that the fluid that feeds the Bell + May flow in the right course glib and well. + Deep hid within this nether cell, + What force with Fire is molding thus + In yonder airy tower shall dwell, + And witness wide and far of us! + It shall, in later days, unfailing, + Rouse many an ear to rapt emotion; + Its solemn voice with Sorrow wailing, + Or choral chiming to Devotion. + Whatever Fate to Man may bring, + Whatever weal or woe befall, + That metal tongue shall backward ring + The warning moral drawn from all. + + III + + See the silvery bubbles spring! + Good! the mass is melting now! + Let the salts we duly bring + Purge the flood, and speed the flow. + From the dross and the scum, + Pure, the fusion must come; + For perfect and pure we the metal must keep, + That its voice may be perfect, and pure, and deep. + That voice, with merry music rife, + The cherished child shall welcome in, + What time the rosy dreams of life + In the first slumber's arms begin; + As yet in Time's dark womb unwarning, + Repose the days, or foul or fair, + And watchful o'er that golden morning, + The Mother-Love's untiring care! + And swift the years like arrows fly-- + No more with girls content to play, + Fast in its prison-walls of earth, + Awaits the mold of bakd clay. + Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- + The BELL that shall be born to-day! + Bounds the proud Boy upon his way, + Storms through loud life's tumultuous pleasures, + With pilgrim staff the wide world measures; + And, wearied with the wish to roam, + Again seeks, stranger-like, the Father-Home. + And, lo, as some sweet vision breaks + Out from its native morning skies, + With rosy shame on downcast cheeks, + The Virgin stands before his eyes. + A nameless longing seizes him! + From all his wild companions flown; + Tears, strange till then, his eyes bedim; + He wanders all alone. + Blushing, he glides where'er she move; + Her greeting can transport him; + To every mead to deck his love, + The happy wild flowers court him! + Sweet Hope--and tender Longing--ye + The growth of Life's first Age of Gold, + When the heart, swelling, seems to see + The gates of heaven unfold! + O Love, the beautiful and brief! O prime, + Glory, and verdure, of life's summertime! + + IV + + Browning o'er, the pipes are simmering, + Dip this wand of clay[13] within; + If like glass the wand be glimmering, + Then the casting may begin. + Brisk, brisk now, and see + If the fusion flow free; + If--(happy and welcome indeed were the sign!) + If the hard and the ductile united combine. + For still where the strong is betrothed to the weak, + And the stern in sweet marriage is blent with the meek, + Rings the concord harmonious, both tender and strong: + So be it with thee, if forever united, + The heart to the heart flows in one, love-delighted; + Illusion is brief, but Repentance is long. + Lovely, thither are they bringing, + With her virgin wreath, the Bride! + To the love-feast clearly ringing, + Tolls the church-bell far and wide! + With that sweetest holyday, + Must the May of Life depart; + With the cestus loosed--away + Flies ILLUSION from the heart! + Yet love lingers lonely, + When Passion is mute, + And the blossoms may only + Give way to the fruit. + The Husband must enter + The hostile life; + With struggle and strife, + To plant or to watch, + To snare or to snatch, + To pray and importune, + Must wager and venture + And hunt down his fortune! + Then flows in a current the gear and the gain, + And the garners are filled with the gold of the grain, + Now a yard to the court, now a wing to the centre! + Within sits Another, + The thrifty Housewife; + The mild one, the mother-- + Her home is her life. + In its circle she rules, + And the daughters she schools, + And she cautions the boys, + With a bustling command, + And a diligent hand + Employed she employs; + Gives order to store, + And the much makes the more; + Locks the chest and the wardrobe, with lavender smelling, + And the hum of the spindle goes quick through the dwelling, + And she hoards in the presses, well polished and full, + The snow of the linen, the shine of the wool; + Blends the sweet with the good, and from care and endeavor + Rests never! + Blithe the Master (where the while + From his roof he sees them smile) + Eyes the lands, and counts the gain; + There, the beams projecting far, + And the laden store-house are, + And the granaries bowed beneath + The blessd golden grain; + There, in undulating motion, + Wave the corn-fields like an ocean. + Proud the boast the proud lips breathe:-- + "My house is built upon a rock, + And sees unmoved the stormy shock + Of waves that fret below!" + What chain so strong, what girth so great, + To bind the giant form of Fate?-- + Swift are the steps of Woe. + + V + + Now the casting may begin; + See the breach indented there: + Ere we run the fusion in, + Halt--and speed the pious prayer! + Pull the bung out-- + See around and about + What vapor, what vapor--God help us!--has risen?-- + Ha! the flame like a torrent leaps forth from its prison! + What friend is like the might of fire + When man can watch and wield the ire? + Whate'er we shape or work, we owe + Still to that heaven-descended glow. + But dread the heaven-descended glow, + When from their chain its wild wings go, + When, where it listeth, wide and wild + Sweeps the Free Nature's free-born Child! + When the Frantic One fleets, + While no force can withstand, + Through the populous streets + Whirling ghastly the brand; + For the Element hates + What man's labor creates, + And the work of his hand! + Impartially out from the cloud, + Or the curse or the blessing may fall! + Benignantly out from the cloud, + Come the dews, the revivers of all! + Avengingly out from the cloud + Come the levin, the bolt, and the ball! + Hark--a wail from the steeple!--aloud + The bell shrills its voice to the crowd! + Look--look--red as blood + All on high! + It is not the daylight that fills with its flood + The sky! + What a clamor awaking + Roars up through the street! + What a hell-vapor breaking + Rolls on through the street! + And higher and higher + Aloft moves the Column of Fire! + Through the vistas and rows + Like a whirlwind it goes, + And the air like the steam from a furnace glows. + Beams are crackling--posts are shrinking-- + Walls are sinking--windows clinking + Children crying-- + Mothers flying-- + And the beast (the black ruin yet smoldering under) + Yells the howl of its pain and its ghastly wonder! + Hurry and skurry--away--away, + The face of the night is as clear as day! + As the links in a chain, + Again and again + Flies the bucket from hand to hand; + High in arches up-rushing + The engines are gushing, + And the flood, as a beast on the prey that it hounds, + With a roar on the breast of the element bounds. + To the grain and the fruits, + Through the rafters and beams, + Through the barns and the garners it crackles and streams! + As if they would rend up the earth from its roots, + Rush the flames to the sky + Giant-high; + And at length, + Wearied out and despairing, man bows to their strength! + With an idle gaze sees their wrath consume, + And submits to his doom! + Desolate + The place, and dread + For storms the barren bed! + In the blank voids that cheerful casements were, + Comes to and fro the melancholy air, + And sits despair; + And through the ruin, blackening in its shroud, + Peers, as it flits, the melancholy cloud. + One human glance of grief upon the grave + Of all that Fortune gave + The loiterer takes--then turns him to depart, + And grasps the wanderer's staff and mans his heart: + Whatever else the element bereaves + One blessing more than all it reft--it leaves + The face that he loves!--He counts them o'er, + See--not one look is missing from that store! + + VI + + Now clasped the bell within the clay-- + The mold the mingled metals fill-- + + Oh, may it, sparkling into day, + Reward the labor and the skill! + Alas! should it fail, + For the mold may be frail-- + And still with our hope must be mingled the fear-- + And, ev'n now, while we speak, the mishap may be near! + To the dark womb of sacred earth + This labor of our hands is given, + As seeds that wait the second birth, + And turn to blessings watched by heaven! + Ah seeds, how dearer far than they + We bury in the dismal tomb, + Where Hope and Sorrow bend to pray + That suns beyond the realm of day + May warm them into bloom! + From the steeple + Tolls the bell, + Deep and heavy, + The death-knell, + Guiding with dirge-note--solemn, sad, and slow, + To the last home earth's weary wanderers know. + It is that worshipped wife-- + It is that faithful mother![14] + Whom the dark Prince of Shadows leads benighted, + From that dear arm where oft she hung delighted. + Far from those blithe companions, born + Of her, and blooming in their morn; + On whom, when couched her heart above, + So often looked the Mother-Love! + Ah! rent the sweet Home's union-band, + And never, never more to come-- + She dwells within the shadowy land, + Who was the Mother of that Home! + How oft they miss that tender guide, + The care--the watch--the face--the MOTHER-- + And where she sate the babes beside, + Sits with unloving looks--ANOTHER! + + VII + + While the mass is cooling now, + Let the labor yield to leisure, + As the bird upon the bough, + Loose the travail to the pleasure. + When the soft stars awaken! + Each task be forsaken! + And the vesper-bell, lulling the earth into peace, + If the master still toil, chimes the workman's release! + Homeward from the tasks of day, + Through the greenwood's welcome way + Wends the wanderer, blithe and cheerily, + To the cottage loved so dearly! + And the eye and ear are meeting, + Now, the slow sheep homeward bleating; + Now, the wonted shelter near, + Lowing the lusty-fronted steer + Creaking now the heavy wain, + Reels with the happy harvest grain; + While, with many-colored leaves, + Glitters the garland on the sheaves; + For the mower's work is done, + And the young folks' dance begun! + Desert street, and quiet mart;-- + Silence is in the city's heart; + And the social taper lighteth + Each dear face that HOME uniteth; + While the gate the town before + Heavily swings with sullen roar! + Though darkness is spreading + O'er earth--the Upright + And the Honest, undreading, + Look safe on the night + Which the evil man watches in awe, + For the eye of the Night is the Law! + Bliss-dowered! O daughter of the skies, + Hail, holy ORDER, whose employ + Blends like to like in light and joy-- + Builder of cities, who of old + Called the wild man from waste and wold, + And, in his but thy presence stealing, + Roused each familiar household feeling, + And, best of all, the happy ties, + The centre of the social band-- + _The Instinct of the Fatherland!_ + United thus--each helping each, + Brisk work the countless hands forever; + For naught its power to Strength can teach, + Like Emulation and Endeavor! + Thus linked the master with the man, + Each in his rights can each revere, + And while they march in freedom's van, + Scorn the lewd rout that dogs the rear! + To freemen labor is renown! + Who works--gives blessings and commands; + Kings glory in the orb and crown-- + Be ours the glory of our hands, + Long in these walls--long may we greet + Your footfalls, Peace and Concord sweet! + Distant the day, oh! distant far, + When the rude hordes of trampling War + Shall scare the silent vale-- + The where + Now the sweet heaven, when day doth leave + The air, + Limns its soft rose-hues on the veil of Eve-- + Shall the fierce war-brand, tossing in the gale, + From town and hamlet shake the horrent glare! + + VIII + + Now, its destined task fulfilled, + Asunder break the prison-mold; + Let the goodly Bell we build, + Eye and heart alike behold. + The hammer down heave, + Till the cover it cleave:-- + For not till we shatter the wall of its cell + Can we lift from its darkness and bondage the Bell. + To break the mold the master may, + If skilled the hand and ripe the hour; + But woe, when on its fiery way + The metal seeks itself to pour, + Frantic and blind, with thunder-knell, + Exploding from its shattered home, + And glaring forth, as from a hell, + Behold the red Destruction come! + When rages strength that has no reason, + There breaks the mold before the season; + When numbers burst what bound before, + Woe to the State that thrives no more! + Yea, woe, when in the City's heart, + The latent spark to flame is blown, + "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood + And Millions from their silence start, + To claim, without a guide, their own! + Discordant howls the warning Bell, + Proclaiming discord wide and far, + And, born but things of peace to tell, + Becomes the ghastliest voice of war: + "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood + Rush the roused people at the sound! + Through street, hall, palace, roars the flood, + And banded murder closes round! + The hyena-shapes (that women were!) + Jest with the horrors they survey; + They hound--they rend--they mangle there, + As panthers with their prey! + Naught rests to hallow--burst the ties + Of life's sublime and reverent awe; + Before the Vice the Virtue flies, + And Universal Crime is Law! + Man fears the lion's kingly tread; + Man fears the tiger's fangs of terror; + And still, the dreadliest of the dread, + Is Man himself in error! + No torch, though lit from Heaven, illumes + The Blind!--Why place it in his hands? + It lights not him--it but consumes + The City and the Land! + + IX + + Rejoice and laud the prospering skies! + The kernel bursts its husks--behold + From the dull clay the metal rise, + Pure-shining, as a star of gold! + Neck and lip, but as one beam, + It laughs like a sunbeam. + And even the scutcheon, clear-graven, shall tell + That the art of a master has fashioned the Bell! + Come in--come in, + My merry men--we'll form a ring + The new-born labor christening; + And "CONCORD" we will name her! + To union may her heart-felt call + In brother-love attune us all! + May she the destined glory win + For which the master sought to frame her-- + Aloft--(all earth's existence under) + In blue-pavilioned heaven afar + To dwell--the Neighbor of the Thunder, + The borderer of the Star! + Be hers above a voice to raise + Like those bright hosts in yonder sphere, + Who, while they move, their Maker praise, + And lead around the wreathd year! + To solemn and eternal things + We dedicate her lips sublime, + As hourly, calmly, on she swings, + Fanned by the fleeting wings of Time! + No pulse--no heart--no feeling hers! + She lends the warning voice to Fate; + And still companions, while she stirs, + The changes of the Human State! + So may she teach us, as her tone + But now so mighty, melts away-- + That earth no life which earth has known + From the last silence can delay! + Slowly now the cords upheave her! + From her earth-grave soars the Bell; + 'Mid the airs of Heaven we leave her! + In the Music-Realm to dwell! + Up--upwards--yet raise-- + She has risen--she sways. + Fair Bell to our city bode joy and increase, + And oh, may thy first sound be hallowed to--PEACE.[15] + + * * * * * + + + +THE GERMAN ART (1800) + + + By no kind Augustus reared, + To no Medici endeared, + German Art arose; + Fostering glory smil'd not on her, + Ne'er with kingly smiles to sun her, + Did her blooms unclose. + + No! She went, by Monarchs slighted + Went unhonored, unrequited, + From high Frederick's throne; + Praise and Pride be all the greater, + That Man's genius did create her, + From Man's worth alone. + + Therefore, all from loftier mountains, + Purer wells and richer Fountains, + Streams our Poet-Art; + So no rule to curb its rushing-- + All the fuller flows it gushing + From its deep--The Heart! + + * * * * * + + + +COMMENCEMENT OF THE NEW CENTURY (1801) + + + Where can Peace find a refuge? Whither, say, + Can Freedom turn? Lo, friend, before our view + The CENTURY rends itself in storm away, + And, red with slaughter, dawns on earth the New! + The girdle of the lands is loosen'd[16]--hurl'd + To dust the forms old Custom deem'd divine,-- + Safe from War's fury not the watery world;-- + Safe not the Nile-God nor the antique Rhine. + Two mighty nations make the world their field, + Deeming the world is for their heirloom given-- + Against the freedom of all lands they wield + This--Neptune's trident; that--the Thund'rer's levin + Gold to their scales each region must afford; + And, as fierce Brennus in Gaul's early tale, + The Frank casts in the iron of his sword, + To poise the balance, where the right may fail-- + Like some huge Polypus, with arms that roam + Outstretch'd for prey--the Briton spreads his reign; + And, as the Ocean were his household home, + Locks up the chambers of the liberal main. + On to the Pole where shines, unseen, the Star, + Onward his restless course unbounded flies; + Tracks every isle and every coast afar, + And undiscover'd leaves but--Paradise! + Alas, in vain on earth's wide chart, I ween, + Thou seek'st that holy realm beneath the sky-- + Where Freedom dwells in gardens ever green-- + And blooms the Youth of fair Humanity! + O'er shores where sail ne'er rustled to the wind, + O'er the vast universe, may rove thy ken; + But in the universe thou canst not find + A space sufficing for ten happy men! + In the heart's holy stillness only beams + The shrine of refuge from life's stormy throng; + Freedom is only in the land of Dreams; + And only blooms the Beautiful in Song! + + * * * * * + + + +CASSANDRA (1802) + + +[There is peace between the Greeks and Trojans--Achilles is to wed +Polyxena, Priam's daughter. On entering the Temple, he is shot through +his only vulnerable part by Paris.--The time of the following Poem is +during the joyous preparations for the marriage.] + + And mirth was in the halls of Troy, + Before her towers and temples fell; + High peal'd the choral hymns of joy, + Melodious to the golden shell. + The weary had reposed from slaughter-- + The eye forgot the tear it shed; + This day King Priam's lovely daughter + Shall great Pelides wed! + + Adorn'd with laurel boughs, they come, + Crowd after crowd--the way divine, + Where fanes are deck'd--for gods the home-- + And to the Thymbrian's[17] solemn shrine. + The wild Bacchantic joy is madd'ning + The thoughtless host, the fearless guest; + And there, the unheeded heart is sadd'ning + _One_ solitary breast! + + Unjoyous in the joyful throng, + Alone, and linking life with none, + Apollo's laurel groves among + The still Cassandra wander'd on! + Into the forest's deep recesses + The solemn Prophet-Maiden pass'd, + And, scornful, from her loosen'd tresses, + The sacred fillet cast! + + "To all its arms doth Mirth unfold, + And every heart foregoes its cares; + And Hope is busy in the old; + The bridal-robe my sister wears. + But I alone, alone am weeping; + The sweet delusion mocks not me-- + Around these walls destruction sweeping + More near and near I see! + + "A torch before my vision glows, + But not in Hymen's hand it shines; + A flame that to the welkin goes, + But not from holy offering-shrines; + Glad hands the banquet are preparing, + And near, and near the halls of state + I hear the God that comes unsparing; + I hear the steps of Fate. + + "And men my prophet-wail deride! + The solemn sorrow dies in scorn; + And lonely in the waste, I hide + The tortured heart that would forewarn. + Amidst the happy, unregarded, + Mock'd by their fearful joy, I trod; + Oh, dark to me the lot awarded, + Thou evil Pythian god! + + "Thine oracle, in vain to be, + Oh, wherefore am I thus consign'd + With eyes that every truth must see, + Lone in the City of the Blind? + Cursed with the anguish of a power + To view the fates I may not thrall, + The hovering tempest still must lower-- + The horror must befall! + + "Boots it the veil to lift, and give + To sight the frowning fates beneath? + For error is the life we live, + And, oh, our knowledge is but death! + Take back the clear and awful mirror, + Shut from mine eyes the blood-red glare + Thy truth is but a gift of terror + When mortal lips declare. + + "My blindness give to me once more[18]-- + The gay dim senses that rejoice; + The Past's delighted songs are o'er + For lips that speak a Prophet's voice. + To me _the future_ thou hast granted; + I miss _the moment_ from the chain-- + The happy Present-Hour enchanted! + Take back thy gift again! + + "Never for me the nuptial wreath + The odor-breathing hair shall twine; + My heavy heart is bow'd beneath + The service of thy dreary shrine. + My youth was but by tears corroded,-- + My sole familiar is my pain, + Each coming ill my heart foreboded, + And felt it first--in vain! + + "How cheer'ly sports the careless mirth-- + The life that loves, around I see; + Fair youth to pleasant thoughts give birth-- + The heart is only sad to me. + Not for mine eyes the young spring gloweth, + When earth her happy feast-day keeps; + The charm of life who ever knoweth + That looks into the deeps? + + "Wrapt in thy bliss, my sister, thine + The heart's inebriate rapture-springs;-- + Longing with bridal arms to twine + The bravest of the Grecian kings. + High swells the joyous bosom, seeming + Too narrow for its world of love, + Nor envies, in its heaven of dreaming, + The heaven of gods above! + + "I too might know the soft control + Of one the longing heart could choose, + With look which love illumes with soul-- + The look that supplicates and woos. + And sweet with him, where love presiding + Prepares our hearth, to go--but, dim, + A Stygian shadow, nightly gliding, + Stalks between me and him! + + "Forth from the grim funereal shore, + The Hell-Queen sends her ghastly bands; + Where'er I turn--behind--before-- + Dumb in my path--a Spectre stands! + Wherever gayliest, youth assembles-- + I see the shades in horror clad, + Amidst Hell's ghastly People trembles + One soul for ever sad! + + "I see the steel of Murder gleam-- + I see the Murderer's glowing eyes-- + To right--to left, one gory stream-- + One circling fate--my flight defies! + I may not turn my gaze--all seeing, + Foreknowing all, I dumbly stand-- + To close in blood my ghastly being + In the far strangers' land!" + + Hark! while the sad sounds murmur round, + Hark, from the Temple-porch, the cries!-- + A wild, confused, tumultuous sound!-- + Dead the divine Pelides lies! + Grim Discord rears her snakes devouring-- + The last departing god hath gone! + And, womb'd in cloud, the thunder, lowering, + Hangs black on Ilion. + +[Illustration: CASSANDRA Ferdinand Keller] + + * * * * * + + + +RUDOLPH OF HAPSBURG (1803) + +A BALLAD + + +[Hinrichs properly classes this striking ballad (together with the yet +grander one of the "Fight with the Dragon") amongst those designed to +depict and exalt the virtue of Humility. The source of the story is in +gidius Tschudi, a Swiss chronicler; and Schiller appears to have +adhered, with much fidelity, to the original narrative.] + + At Aachen, in imperial state, + In that time-hallow'd hall renown'd, + At solemn feast King Rudolf sate, + The day that saw the hero crown'd! + Bohemia and thy Palgrave, Rhine, + Give this the feast, and that the wine;[19] + The Arch Electoral Seven, + Like choral stars around the sun, + Gird him whose hand a world has won, + The anointed choice of Heaven. + + In galleries raised above the pomp, + Press'd crowd on crowd their panting way, + And with the joy-resounding tromp, + Rang out the millions' loud hurra! + For, closed at last the age of slaughter, + When human blood was pour'd as water-- + LAW dawns upon the world![20] + Sharp force no more shall right the wrong, + And grind the weak to crown the strong-- + War's carnage-flag is furl'd! + + In Rudolf's hand the goblet shines-- + And gaily round the board look'd he; + "And proud the feast, and bright the wines + My kingly heart feels glad to me! + Yet where the Gladness-Bringer--blest + In the sweet art which moves the breast + With lyre and verse divine? + Dear from my youth the craft of song, + And what as knight I loved so long, + As Kaiser, still be mine." + + Lo, from the circle bending there, + With sweeping robe the Bard appears, + As silver white his gleaming hair, + Bleach'd by the many winds of years; + "And music sleeps in golden strings-- + Love's rich reward the minstrel sings, + Well known to him the ALL + High thoughts and ardent souls desire! + What would the Kaiser from the lyre + Amidst the banquet-hall?" + + The Great One smiled--"Not mine the sway-- + The minstrel owns a loftier power-- + A mightier king inspires the lay-- + Its hest--THE IMPULSE OF THE HOUR!" + As through wide air the tempests sweep, + As gush the springs from mystic deep, + Or lone untrodden glen; + So from dark hidden fount within + Comes SONG, its own wild world to win + Amidst the souls of men! + + Swift with the fire the minstrel glow'd, + And loud the music swept the ear:-- + "Forth to the chase a Hero rode, + To hunt the bounding chamois-deer; + With shaft and horn the squire behind;-- + Through greensward meads the riders wind-- + A small sweet bell they hear. + Lo, with the HOST, a holy man-- + Before him strides the sacristan, + And the bell sounds near and near. + + "The noble hunter down-inclined + His reverent head and soften'd eye, + And honor'd with a Christian's mind + The Christ who loves humility! + Loud through the pasture, brawls and raves + A brook--the rains had fed the waves, + And torrents from the bill. + His sandal-shoon the priest unbound, + And laid the Host upon the ground, + And near'd the swollen rill! + + "What wouldst thou, priest?" the Count began, + As, marveling much, he halted there, + "Sir Count, I seek a dying man, + Sore-hungering for the heavenly fare. + The bridge that once its safety gave, + Rent by the anger of the wave, + Drifts down the tide below. + Yet barefoot now, I will not fear + (The soul that seeks its God, to cheer) + Through the wild wave to go!" + + "He gave that priest the knightly steed, + He reach'd that priest the lordly reins, + That he might serve the sick man's need, + Nor slight the task that heaven ordains. + He took the horse the squire bestrode; + On to the sick, the priest! + And when the morrow's sun was red, + The servant of the Savior led + Back to its lord the beast. + + "'Now Heaven forfend!' the Hero cried, + 'That e'er to chase or battle more + These limbs the sacred steed bestride + That once my Maker's image bore; + If not a boon allow'd to thee, + Thy Lord and mine its Master be, + My tribute to the King, + From whom I hold, as fiefs, since birth, + Honor, renown, the goods of earth, + Life and each living thing!" + + "'So may the God, who faileth never + To hear the weak and guide the dim, + To thee give honor here and ever, + As thou hast duly honor'd Him!' + Far-famed ev'n now through Swisserland + Thy generous heart and dauntless hand; + And fair from thine embrace + Six daughters bloom,[21] six crowns to bring, + Blest as the daughters of a KING, + The mothers of a RACE!" + + The mighty Kaiser heard amazed! + His heart was in the days of old; + Into the minstrel's heart he gazed, + That tale the Kaiser's own had told. + Yes, in the bard the priest he knew, + And in the purple veil'd from view + The gush of holy tears! + A thrill through that vast audience ran, + And every heart the godlike man + Revering God--reveres! + +[Illustration: THE COUNT GIVES UP HIS HORSE TO THE PRIEST Alexander +Wagner] + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 3: Though the Ideal images of youth forsake us, the Ideal +itself still remains to the Poet. It is his task and his companion, +for, unlike the Phantasies of Fortune, Fame, and Love, the Phantasies +of the Ideal are imperishable. While, as the occupation of life, it +pays off the debt of Time, as the exalter of life it contributes to +the Building of Eternity.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 4: "Die Gesalt"--Form. the Platonic Archetype.] + +[Footnote 5: This idea is often repeated, somewhat more clearly in the +haughty philosophy of Schiller. He himself says, elsewhere--"In a fair +soul each single action is not properly moral, but the whole character +is moral. The fair soul has no other service than the instincts of its +own beauty."--Translator] + +[Footnote 6: "Und es wallet, and siedet, und brauset, and zischt," +etc. Goethe was particularly struck with the truthfulness of these +lines, of which his personal observation at the Falls of the Rhine +enabled him to judge. Schiller modestly owns his obligations to +Homer's descriptions of Charybdis, Odyss. I., 12. The property of the +higher order of imagination to reflect truth, though not familiar to +experience, is singularly illustrated in this description. Schiller +had never seen even a Waterfall.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 7: The same rhyme as the preceding line in the original.] + +[Footnote 8: "--da kroch's heran," etc. The _It_ in the original has +been greatly admired. The poet thus vaguely represents the fabulous +misshapen monster, the Polypus of the ancients.] + +[Footnote 9: The theatre.] + +[Footnote 10: This simile is nobly conceived, but expressed somewhat +obscurely. As Hercules contended in vain against Antus, the Son of +Earth,--so long as the Earth gave her giant offspring new strength in +every fall,--so the soul contends in vain with evil--the natural +earth-born enemy, while the very contact of the earth invigorates the +enemy for the struggle. And as Antus was slain at last, when Hercules +lifted him from the earth and strangled him while raised aloft, so can +the soul slay the enemy (the desire, the passion, the evil, the +earth's offspring), when bearing it from earth itself and stifling it +in the higher air.--Translator.] + +[Footnote 11: Translated by Edward, Lord Lytton (Permission George +Routledge & Sons.)] + +[Footnote 12: "I call the Living--I mourn the Dead--I break the +Lightning." These words are inscribed on the Great Bell of the Minster +of Schaffhausen--also on that of the Church of Art near Lucerne. There +was an old belief in Switzerland that the undulation of air, caused by +the sound of a Bell, broke the electric fluid of a thunder-cloud.] + +[Footnote 13: A piece of clay pipe, which becomes vitrified if the +metal is sufficiently heated.] + +[Footnote 14: The translator adheres to the original, in forsaking the +rhyme in these lines and some others.] + +[Footnote 15: Written in the time of the French war.] + +[Footnote 16: That is--the settled political question--the balance of +power.] + +[Footnote 17: Apollo.] + +[Footnote 18: "Everywhere," says Hoffmeister truly, "Schiller exalts +Ideal Belief over real wisdom;--everywhere this modern Apostle of +Christianity advocates that Ideal, which exists in Faith and emotion, +against the wisdom of worldly intellect, the barren experience of +life," etc.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 19: The office, at the coronation feast, of the Count +Palatine of the Rhine (Grand Sewer of the Empire and one of the Seven +Electors) was to bear the Imperial Globe and set the dishes on the +board; that of the King of Bohemia was cup-bearer. The latter was not, +however, present, as Schiller himself observed in a note (omitted in +the editions of his collected works), at the coronation of Rudolf.] + +[Footnote 20: Literally, "_A. judge (ein Richter_) was again upon the +earth." The word substituted in the translation is introduced in order +to recall to the reader the sublime name given, not without justice, +to Rudolf of Hapsburg, viz., "THE LIVING LAW."--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 21: At the coronation of Rudolf was celebrated the +marriage-feast of three of his daughters--to Ludwig of Bavaria, Otto +of Brandenburg, and Albrecht of Saxony. His other three daughters +married afterward Otto, nephew of Ludwig of Bavaria, Charles Martell, +son of Charles of Anjou, and Wenceslaus, son of Ottocar of Bohemia. +The royal house of England numbers Rudolf of Hapsburg amongst its +ancestors.--TRANSLATOR.] + + * * * * * + + + + +DRAMAS + + + +INTRODUCTION TO WALLENSTEIN'S DEATH + +By WILLIAM H. CARRUTH, PH.D. + +Professor of Comparative Literature, Leland Stanford University + + +Schiller wrote in rapid succession, during his Storm and Stress +period, _The Robbers, Fiesco, Cabal and Love_, and the beginning of +_Don Carlos_ (finished in 1787). Between this time and his last +period, which opens with _Wallenstein_, he devoted himself assiduously +to the study of philosophy, history, and esthetic theory. Even in +writing _Don Carlos_ he had felt that he needed to give more care to +artistic form and to the deeper questions of dramatic unity. His own +dissatisfaction with the results achieved was one of several reasons +why for nearly ten years he dropped dramatic composition. He felt, +too, that he needed more experience of life. He himself said of the +greatest of his Storm and Stress dramas that he had attempted to +portray humanity before he really knew humanity. + +In 1788 he published the first part of his _History of the Rebellion +of the Netherlands_, which brought him the appointment to the chair of +history in the University of Jena. The occupation with his next +historical work, the _History of the Thirty Years' War_, suggested to +him the thought of dramatizing the career of Wallenstein. But he was +not yet clear with himself on questions of artistic method. He was +studying Homer and dramatizing Euripides, lecturing and writing on +dramatic theory. Further delays were due to marriage and to serious +illness. It was not until 1796 that Schiller felt ready to begin work +on the long planned drama of _Wallenstein_. + +The first scenes were written in prose, but soon the poet realized +that only the dignified heroic verse was suited to his theme. Then +"all went better." Constant discussions with Goethe and Christian +Gottfried Koerner helped him to clear up his doubts and overcome the +difficulties of his subject. He found that history left too little +room for sympathy with Wallenstein, for he conceived him as really +guilty of treason. He decided early to lighten the gloom of his theme +by introducing the love episode of Max and Thekla. He modified also +his view of the nature of Wallenstein's guilt. Gradually the material +grew upon him. What he had planned as a Prologue became the one-act +play, _Wallenstein's Camp_, which, when it was produced in October, +1798, at the reopening of the Weimar Theatre, was preceded by 138 +lines of Dedication, since printed as the _Prologue_. Already Schiller +had foreseen the development into more than five acts, and accordingly +_The Piccolomini_ appeared separately, January 30, 1799, and the whole +series in order about the middle of April, upon the completion of +_Wallenstein's Death_. + +_Wallenstein_ is a trilogy, but in name rather than in real connection +and relation of parts. _Wallenstein's Camp_ is a picture of masses, +introducing only common soldiers and none of the chief personages of +the other parts of the composition. Its purpose is to present +something of the tremendous background of the action proper and to +give a realizing sense of the influence upon Wallenstein's career of +the soldiery with which he operated--as Schiller expressed it in a +line of his Prologue: "His camp alone explains to us his crime." By +this he meant that, on the one hand, the blind confidence of the +troops in the luck and the destiny of their leader made him arrogant +and reckless, and, on the other hand, perhaps, that the mercenary +character of these soldiers of fortune forced Wallenstein to steps +which his calm judgment would have condemned. + +In a succession of eleven scenes of very unequal length the various +arms of the service are introduced, together with camp followers and a +Capuchin preacher; in reminiscences the earlier features of the great +war and some feats of the general are recalled; in discussions the +character of Wallenstein and of his leading officers is sketched; +finally the report of the recent demand of the Emperor, that +Wallenstein detach 8,000 men to escort the Cardinal Infant to the +Netherlands, reveals the opposition of the army to such an order and +its unconditional loyalty to Wallenstein. + +The second and third parts of the trilogy, _The Piccolomini_ and +_Wallenstein's Death_, constitute, in fact, one ten-act play, which +requires two evenings for presentation. So slight is the organic +division between the two plays that, as first presented, in the fall +of 1798 and the spring of 1799, _The Piccolomini_ included the first +two acts of _Wallenstein's Death_ as later printed and here given, +while the last three acts were so divided as to constitute five. + +_The Piccolomini_, which could not be reprinted in this anthology, +presents essentially what is called the "exposition" of the entire +drama, together with a _part_ of the complication of the plot. +Questenberg, the imperial commissioner, visits Wallenstein's +headquarters in Pilsen to present the order of the Emperor for the +detachment of eight regiments of Wallenstein's best cavalry to serve +as escort to the Cardinal Infant on his way to the Netherlands. He +meets distrust and almost incredible defiance from Wallenstein's +officers, excepting Octavio Piccolomini, one of the oldest and most +trusted, to whom he brings secret dispatches directing him to +supersede Wallenstein in case of the latter's open rebellion, which +the court believes he has already determined upon. Wallenstein himself +meets the demands with a reproachful reference to the violation of the +plenary powers intrusted to him by the Emperor as the condition of his +assuming the command, but announces that he will relieve him from +embarrassment by resigning. This announcement is received with a storm +of protests from his officers. Questenberg and Octavio are deeply +concerned to make sure of the adherence to their cause of Octavio's +son, Max, a child of the camp and an especial favorite with +Wallenstein. Max has just arrived at Pilsen as escort of Wallenstein's +wife and of his daughter Thekla, to whom he has lost his heart. +Wallenstein and his masterful sister, Countess Terzky, are also eager +to secure Max to their side in the coming conflict, and the Countess +tries to persuade Thekla to govern her actions accordingly. Thekla, +however, is nobly frank with Max and warns him to trust only his own +heart; for she realizes that the threads of a dark plot are drawing +close about herself and Max, though she does not clearly understand +what it is. Meanwhile Terzky and Illo have planned a meeting of +Wallenstein's officers to protest against his withdrawal. In a +splendid banquet scene they present a written agreement (Revers) to +stand by the general _so far as loyalty to the Emperor will permit_, +and then, when all are heated with wine, secure signatures to a +substituted document from which this reservation of loyalty to the +Emperor is omitted. It is the hope of Illo and Terzky, through the +sight of this document, to persuade Wallenstein to open rebellion. Max +Piccolomini, coming late to the banquet from the interview with +Thekla, refuses to sign the pledge, not because he sees through the +deception, but because he is in no mood for business. Before morning +his father summons him, thinking Max has refused to sign because he +scented the intended treason, and reveals to him the whole +situation--the plots of the officers, Wallenstein's dangerous +negotiations with enemies of the Emperor, and his own commission to +take command and save whatever he can of loyal troops. Max is +thunder-truck. He can believe neither Wallenstein's purpose of +treason nor his father's duplicity in dealing behind the back of his +great commander. He refuses to follow his father's orders and leaves +him with the avowed intention of going to Wallenstein and calling upon +him to clear himself of the calumnious charges of the court. At this +point begins the action of _Wallenstein's Death_. + +In all of his later dramas excepting _William Tell_, Schiller +endeavored to introduce a factor which is called "the dramatic guilt," +a circumstance, usually in the character of the hero but sometimes in +his environment, which makes the tragic outcome inevitable and yet +leaves room in the breast of the reader or spectator for sympathy with +the hero in his fate. In the case of Wallenstein this "guilt" is the +dalliance with the love of power and the possibility of rebellion, not +a deliberate intention to commit treason. In the close of his +treatment of Wallenstein in The Thirty Years' War Schiller says: "No +one of his actions justifies us in considering him convicted of +treason. * * * Thus Wallenstein fell, not because he was a rebel, but +he rebelled because he fell." + +The circumstances are urged that Wallenstein was a prince of the +Empire, and had as such the right to negotiate with foreign powers; +that his delegated authority from the Emperor gave him the right to do +so in the Emperor's name; that the Emperor had not kept faith with +Wallenstein, and had thus justified him in at least frightening the +court; that self preservation seemed to indicate rebellion as the only +recourse; that Wallenstein's belief in his destiny and the fatuous +devotion of his army led him to reckless action; and finally that he +did not originally intend to commit actual treason. + +Thus prepared, the reader can easily sympathize with Wallenstein in +his downfall; this sympathy is entirely won by the admirable courage +with which Wallenstein bears the successive blows of fate, and it is +strengthened by consideration of the mean motives of the men who serve +as the tools of his execution, and by the remembrance that the fate of +Max and Thekla is bound up in his. Schiller was concerned lest the +love episode should detract from the interest due the chief persons +of the tragedy; his art has effected the exact opposite. + +The influence of Shakespeare is more or less obvious in all of +Schiller's later dramas. Aside from the splendid rhetoric of the +monologues, the character of Countess Terzky, so similar to that of +Lady Macheth, suggests this. But such influence is not so controlling +as to be in any respect a reproach to Schiller. Goethe in his generous +admiration considered Wallenstein "so great that nothing could be +compared with it." "In the imaginative power whereby history is made +into drama, in the triumph of artistic genius over a vast and +refractory mass of material, and in the skill with which the character +of the hero is conceived and denoted, _Wallenstein_ is unrivaled. Its +chief figure is by far the stateliest and most impressive of German +tragic heroes." [22] + + * * * * * + + + +THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN + + +DRAMATIS PERSON + +WALLENSTEIN, _Duke of Friedland, +Generalissimo of the Imperial +Forces in the Thirty Years' War_. + +DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND, _Wife of +Wallenstein_. + +THEKLA, _her Daughter, Princess of +Friedland_. + +_The_ COUNTESS TERZKY, _Sister of the +Duchess_. + +LADY NEUBRUNN. + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, _Lieutenant-General_. + +MAX PICCOLOMINI, _his son, Colonel +of a regiment of Cuirassiers_. + +COUNT TERZKY, _the Commander of +several Regiments, and Brother-in-law +of Wallenstein_. + +ILLO, _Field Marshall, Wallenstein's +Confident_. + +ISOLANI, _General of the Croats_. + +BUTLER, _an Irishman, Commander +of a regiment of Dragoons_. + +GORDON, _Governor Egra_. + +MAJOR GERALDIN. + +CAPTAIN DEVEREUX. + +CAPTAIN MACDONALD. + +AN ADJUTANT. + +NEUMANN, _Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp +to Terzky_. + +COLONEL WRANGEL, _Envoy from the +Swedes_. + +ROSENBURG, _Master of Horse_. + +SWEDISH CAPTAIN. + +SENI. + +BURGOMASTER _of Egra_. + +ANSPESSADE _of the Cuirassiers_. + + +GROOM OF THE} _Belonging to_ +CHAMBER, } _the Duke_. +A PAGE, } + +_Cuirassiers, Dragoons, Servants_. + + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN AND SENI As performed at the +Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + + +THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN (1800)[23] + +TRANSLATED BY S.T. COLERIDGE + + + +ACT I + + +SCENE I + + +A Room fitted up for astrological labors, and provided with +celestial Charts, with Globes, Telescopes, Quadrants, and other +mathematical Instruments--Seven Colossal Figures, representing +the Planets, each circle in the background, so that Mars and +Saturn are nearest the eye.--The remainder of the Scene, and its +disposition, is given in the Fourth Scene of the Second +Act.--There must be a Curtain over the Figures, which may be +dropped, and conceal them on occasion. + +[_In the Fifth Scene of this Act it must be dropped; but in the +Seventh Scene it must be again drawn up wholly or in part._] + +WALLENSTEIN _at a black Table, on which a Speculum Astrologicum +is described with Chalk_. SENI _is taking Observations through a +window_. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +All well--and now let it be ended, Seni. Come, +The dawn commences, and Mars rules the hour. +We must give o'er the operation. Come, +We know enough. + +SENI. + + Your Highness must permit me +Just to contemplate Venus. She's now rising; +Like as a sun, so shines she in the east. + +WALLENST. + +She is at present in her perigee, +And now shoots down her strongest influences. + + [_Contemplating the figure on the table._] + +Auspicious aspect! fateful in conjunction, +At length the mighty three corradiate; +And the two stars of blessing, Jupiter +And Venus, take between them the malignant +Slily-malicious Mars, and thus compel +Into _my_ service that old mischief-founder: +For long he viewed me hostilely, and ever +With beam oblique, or perpendicular, +Now in the Quartile, now in the Secundan, +Shot his red lightnings at my stars, disturbing +Their blessed influences and sweet aspects. +Now they have conquer'd the old enemy, +And bring him in the heavens a prisoner to me. + +SENI (_who has come down from the window_). + +And in a corner house, your Highness--think of that! +That makes each influence of double strength. + +WALLENST. + +And sun and moon, too, in the Sextile aspect, +The soft light with the vehement--so I love it; +SOL is the heart, LUNA the head of heaven; +Bold be the plan, fiery the execution. + +SENI. + +And both the mighty Lumina by no +Maleficus _affronted_. Lo! Saturnus, +Innocuous, powerless, _in cadente Domo_. + +WALLENST. + +The empire of Saturnus is gone by; +Lord of the secret birth of things is he +Within the lap of earth, and in the depths +Of the imagination dominates; +And his are all things that eschew the light. +The time is o'er of brooding and contrivance, +For Jupiter, the lustrous, lordeth now, +And the dark work, complete of preparation, +He draws by force into the realm of light. +Now must we hasten on to action, ere +The scheme and most auspicious positure +Parts o'er my head, and takes once more its flight, +For the heavens journey still, and sojourn not. + + [_There are knocks at the door._] + +There's some one knocking there. See who it is. + +TERZKY (_from without_). + +Open, and let me in. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Ay--'tis Terzky. +What is there of such urgence? We are busy. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN AND TERZKY As performed at the +Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + +TERZKY (_from without_). + +Lay all aside at present, I entreat you. +It suffers no delaying. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Open, Seni! + +[_While_ SENI _opens the door for_ TERZKY, WALLENSTEIN +_draws the curtain over the figures_.] + + +SCENE II + + +WALLENSTEIN. COUNT TERZKY + +TERZKY (_enters_). + +Hast thou already heard it? He is taken. +Gallas has given him up to the Emperor. + + [SENI _draws off the black table, and exit_.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_to_ TERZKY). + +Who has been taken? Who is given up? + +TERZKY. + +The man who knows our secrets, who knows every +Negotiation with the Swede and Saxon, +Through whose hands all and everything has pass'd-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_drawing back_). + +Nay, not Sesina?--Say, No! I entreat thee. + +TERZKY. + +All on his road for Regensburg to the Swede +He was plunged down upon by Gallas' agent, +Who had been long in ambush, lurking for him. +There must have been found on him my whole packet +To Thur, to Kinsky, to Oxenstiern, to Arnheim: +All this is in their hands; they have now an insight +Into the whole--our measures and our motives. + + +SCENE III + + +_To them enters_ ILLO. + +ILLO (_to_ TERZKY). + +Has he heard it? + +TERZHY. + + He has heard it. + +ILLO (_to_ WALLENSTEIN). + + Thinkest thou still +To make thy peace with the Emperor, to regain +His confidence? E'en were it now thy wish +To abandon all thy plans, yet still they know +What thou hast wish'd: then forwards thou must press, +Retreat is now no longer in thy power. + +TERZKY. + +They have documents against us, and in hands, +Which show beyond all power of contradiction-- + +WALLENST. + +Of my handwriting--no iota. Thee +I punish for thy lies. + +ILLO. + + And thou believest, +That what this man, and what thy sister's husband, +Did in thy name, will not stand on thy reck'ning? +_His_ word must pass for thy word with the Swede, +And not with those that hate thee at Vienna? + +TERZKY. + +In writing thou gavest nothing--But bethink thee, +How far thou ventured'st by word of mouth +With this Sesina! And will he be silent? +If he can save himself by yielding up +Thy secret purposes, will he retain them? + +ILLO. + +Thyself dost not conceive it possible; +And since they now have evidence authentic +How far thou hast already gone, speak!--tell us, +What art thou waiting for? Thou canst no longer +Keep thy command; and beyond hope of rescue +Thou'rt lost, if thou resign'st it. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In the army +Lies my security. The army will not +Abandon me. Whatever they may know, +The power is mine, and they must gulp it down-- +And if I give them caution for my fealty, +They must be satisfied, at least appear so. + +ILLO. + +The army, Duke, _is_ thine now--for this moment-- +'Tis thine, but think with terror on the slow, +The quiet power of time. From open violence +The attachment of thy soldiery secures thee +Today--tomorrow: but grant'st thou them a respite +Unheard, unseen, they'll undermine that love +On which thou now dost feel so firm a footing, +With wily theft will draw away from thee +One after the other other-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis a cursed accident! + +ILLO. + +Oh! I will call it a most blessd one, +If it work on thee as it ought to do, +Hurry thee on to action--to decision. +The Swedish General-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + He's arrived! Know'st thou +What his commission is-- + +ILLO. + + To thee alone +Will he intrust the purpose of his coming. + +WALLENST. + +A cursed, cursed accident! Yes, yes, +Sesina knows too much, and won't be silent. + +TERZKY. + +He's a Bohemian fugitive and rebel, +His neck is forfeit. Can he save himself +At thy cost, think you he will scruple it? +And if they put him to the torture, will he, +Will _he_, that dastardling, have strength enough-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_lost in thought_). + +Their confidence is lost, irreparably! +And I may act which way I will, I shall +Be and remain forever in their thought +A traitor to my country. How sincerely +Soever I return back to my duty, +It will no longer help me-- + +ILLO. + + Ruin thee, +That it will do! Not thy fidelity, +Thy weakness will be deemed the sole occasion-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_pacing up and down in extreme agitation_). + +What! I must realize it now in earnest, +Because I toy'd too freely with the thought! +Accursed he who dallies with a devil! +And must I--I _must_ realize it now-- +Now, while I have the power, it _must_ take place? + +ILLO. + + Now--now--ere they can ward and parry it! + +WALLENSTEIN (_looking at the paper of signatures_). + +I have the Generals' word--a written promise! +Max Piccolomini stands not here--how's that? + +TERZKY. + +It was--he fancied-- + +ILLO. + + Mere self-willedness. +There needed no such thing 'twixt him and you. + +WALLENST. + +He is quite right; there needed no such thing. +The regiments, too, deny to march for Flanders-- +Have sent me in a paper of remonstrance, +And openly resist the Imperial orders. +The first step to revolt's already taken. + +ILLO. + +Believe me, thou wilt find it far more easy +To lead them over to the enemy +Than to the Spaniard. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I will hear, however, +What the Swede has to say to me. + +ILLO (_eagerly to_ TERZKY). + + Go, call him +He stands without the door in waiting. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Stay! +Stay but a little. It hath taken me +All by surprise; it came too quick upon me; +'Tis wholly novel that an accident, +With its dark lordship, and blind agency, +Should force me on with it. + +ILLO. + + First hear him only, +And after weigh it. + + [_Exeunt_ TERZKY _and_ ILLO.] + + +SCENE IV. + + +WALLENSTEIN (_in soliloquy_). + + Is it possible? +Is't so! I _can_ no longer what I _would_? +No longer draw back at my liking? I +Must _do_ the deed, because I _thought_ of it? +And fed this heart here with a dream? Because +I did not scowl temptation from my presence, +Dallied with thoughts of possible fulfilment, +Commenced no movement, left all time uncertain, +And only kept the road, the access open? +By the great God of Heaven! it was not +My serious meaning, it was ne'er resolved. +I but amused myself with thinking of it. +The free-will tempted me, the power to do +Or not to do it--Was it criminal +To make the fancy minister to hope, +To fill the air with pretty toys of air, +And clutch fantastic sceptres moving t'ward me! +Was not the will kept free? Beheld I not +The road of duty close beside me--but +One little step, and once more I was in it! +Where am I? Whither have I been transported? +No road, no track behind me, but a wall +Impenetrable, insurmountable, +Rises obedient to the spells I muttered +And meant not--my own doings tower behind me. + + [_Pauses and remains in deep thought._] + +A punishable man I seem; the guilt, +Try what I will, I cannot roll off from me; +The equivocal demeanor of my life +Bears witness on my prosecutor's party. +And even my purest acts from purest motives +Suspicion poisons with malicious gloss. +Were I that thing for which I pass, that traitor, +A goodly outside I had sure reserved, +Had drawn the coverings thick and double round me, +Been calm and chary of my utterance; +But being conscious of the innocence +Of my intent, my uncorrupted will, +I gave way to my humors, to my passion: +Bold were my words, because my deeds were _not_. +Now every planless measure, chance event, +The threat of rage, the vaunt of joy and triumph, +And all the May-games of a heart o'erflowing, +Will they connect, and weave them all together +Into one web of treason; all will be plain, +My eye ne'er absent from the far-off mark, +Step tracing step, each step a politic progress; +And out of all they'll fabricate a charge +So specious that I must myself stand dumb. +I am caught in my own net, and only force, +Nought but a sudden rent, can liberate me. + + [_Pauses again._] + +How else! since that the heart's unbias'd instinct +Impell'd me to the daring deed, which now +Necessity, self-preservation, _orders_. +Stern is the on-look of Necessity, +Not without shudder may a human hand +Grasp the mysterious urn of destiny. +My deed was mine, remaining in my bosom: +Once suffer'd to escape from its safe corner +Within the heart, its nursery and birth-place, +Sent forth into the Foreign, it belongs +Forever to those sly malicious powers +Whom never art of man conciliated. + +[_Paces in agitation through the chamber, then pauses, and +after the pause breaks out again into audible soliloquy._] + +What is thy enterprise? thy aim? thy object? +Hast honestly confess'd it to thyself? +Power seated on a quiet throne thou'dst shake, +Power on an ancient consecrated throne, +Strong in possession, founded in all custom; +Power by a thousand tough and stringy roots +Fix'd to the people's pious nursery-faith. +This, this will be no strife of strength with strength. +That fear'd I not. I brave each combatant, +Whom I can look on, fixing eye to eye, +Who, full himself of courage, kindles courage +In me too. 'Tis a foe invisible +The which I fear--a fearful enemy, +Which in the human heart opposes me, +By its coward fear alone made fearful to me. +Not that, which full of life, instinct with power, +Makes known its present being; that is not +The true, the perilously formidable. +O no! it is the common, the quite common, +The thing of an eternal yesterday. +What ever was, and evermore returns, +Sterling tomorrow, for today 'twas sterling! +For of the wholly common is man made, +And custom is his nurse! Woe then to them +Who lay irreverent hands upon his old +House furniture, the dear inheritance +From his forefathers! For time consecrates; +And what is gray with age becomes religion. +Be in possession, and thou hast the right, +And sacred will the many guard it for thee! + + [_To the_ PAGE _who here enters_.] + +The Swedish officer?--Well, let him enter. + +[_The_ PAGE _exit_, WALLENSTEIN _fixes his eye in deep +thought on the door_.] + +Yet is it pure--as yet!--the crime has come +Not o'er this threshold yet--so slender is +The boundary that divideth life's two paths. + + +SCENE V + + +WALLENSTEIN _and_ WRANGEL + + +WALLENSTEIN (_after having fixed a searching look on him_). + +Your name is Wrangel? + +WRANGEL. + + Gustave Wrangel, General +Of the Sudermanian Blues. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + It was a Wrangel +Who injured me materially at Stralsund, +And by his brave resistance was the cause +Of the opposition which that sea-port made. + +WRANGEL. + +It was the doing of the element +With which you fought, my Lord! and not my merit. +The Baltic Neptune did assert his freedom: +The sea and land, it seem'd, were not to serve +One and the same. + +[WALLENST. + +You pluck'd the Admiral's hat from off my head. + +WRANGEL. + +I come to place a diadem thereon.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_makes the motion for him to take a seat, and +seats himself_). + + And where are your credentials? +Come you provided with full powers, Sir General? + +WRANGEL. + +There are so many scruples yet to solve-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_having read the credentials_). + +An able letter!--Ay--he is a prudent +Intelligent master whom you serve, Sir General! +The Chancellor writes me, that he but fulfils +His late departed Sovereign's own idea +In helping me to the Bohemian crown. + +WRANGEL. + +He says the truth. Our great King, now in heaven, +Did ever deem most highly of your Grace's +Preminent sense and military genius; +And always the commanding Intellect, +He said, should have command, and be the King. + +WALLENST. + +Yes, he _might_ say it safely.--General Wrangel, + + [_Taking his hand affectionately._] + +Come, fair and open. Trust me, I was always +A Swede at heart. Eh! that did you experience +Both in Silesia and at Nuremberg; +I had you often in my power, and let you +Always slip out by some back door or other. +'Tis this for which the Court can ne'er forgive me, +Which drives me to this present step: and since +Our interests so run in one direction, +E'en let us have a thorough confidence +Each in the other. + +WRANGEL. + + Confidence will come +Has each but only first security. + +WALLENST. + +The Chancellor still, I see, does not quite trust me; +And, I confess--the game does not lie wholly +To my advantage. Without doubt he thinks, +If I can play false with the Emperor, +Who is my sovereign, I can do the like +With the enemy, and that _the one_ too were +Sooner to be forgiven me than the _other_. +Is not this your opinion, too, Sir General? + +WRANGEL. + +I have here a duty merely, no opinion. + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor hath urged me to the uttermost: +I can no longer honorably serve him; +For my security, in self-defence, +I take this hard step, which my conscience blames. + +WRANGEL. + +That I believe. So far would no one go +Who was not forced to it. + + [_After a pause_.] + + What may have impell'd +Your princely Highness in this wise to act +Toward your Sovereign Lord and Emperor, +Beseems not us to expound or criticise. +The Swede is fighting for his good old cause, +With his good sword and conscience. This concurrence, +This opportunity, is in our favor, +And all advantages in war are lawful. +We take what offers without questioning; +And if all have its due and just proportions-- + +WALLENST. + +Of what then are ye doubting? Of my will? +Or of my power? I pledged me to the Chancellor, +Would he trust _me_ with sixteen thousand men, +That I would instantly go over to them +With eighteen thousand of the Emperor's troops. + +WRANGEL. + +Your Grace is known to be a mighty war-chief, +To be a second Attila and Pyrrhus. +'Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment, +How some years past, beyond all human faith, +You call'd an army forth, like a creation: +But yet-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + +But yet? + +WRANGEL. + + But still the Chancellor thinks +It might yet be an easier thing from nothing +To call forth sixty thousand men of battle, +Than to persuade one sixtieth part of them-- + +WALLENST. + +What now? Out with it, friend! + +WRANGEL. + + To break their oaths. + +WALLENST. + +And he thinks _so_? He judges like a Swede, +And like a Protestant. You Lutherans +Fight for your Bible. You are interested +About the cause; and with your _hearts_ you follow +Your banners. Among _you_, whoe'er deserts +To the enemy hath broken covenant +With two Lords at one time. We've no such fancies. + +WRANGEL. + +Great God in Heaven! Have then the people here +No house and home, no fireside, no altar? + +WALLENST. + +I will explain that to you, how it stands:-- +The Austrian _has_ a country, ay, and loves it, +And has good cause to love it--but this army, +That calls itself the Imperial, this that houses +Here in Bohemia, this has none--no country; +This is an outcast of all foreign lands, +Unclaim'd by town or tribe, to whom belongs +Nothing except the universal sun. +And this Bohemian land for which we fight-- +[Loves not the master whom the chance of war, +Not its own choice or will, hath given to it. +Men murmur at the oppression of their conscience, +And power hath only awed but not appeased them; +A glowing and avenging mem'ry lives +Of cruel deeds committed on these plains; +How can the son forget that here his father +Was hunted by the blood-hound to the mass? +A people thus oppress'd must still be feared, +Whether they suffer or avenge their wrongs.] + +WRANGEL. + +But then the Nobles and the Officers? +Such a desertion, such a felony, +It is without example, my Lord Duke, +In the world's history. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + They are all mine-- +Mine unconditionally--mine on all terms. +Not me, your own eyes you must trust. + +[_He gives him the paper containing the written oath._ +WRANGEL _reads it through, and, having read it, lays it on +the table, remaining silent_.] + + So then? +Now comprehend you? + +WRANGEL. + + Comprehend who can! +My Lord Duke, I will let the mask drop--yes! +I've full powers for a final settlement. +The Rhinegrave stands but four days' march from here +With fifteen thousand men, and only waits +For orders to proceed and join your army. +Those orders _I_ give out, immediately +We're compromised. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What asks the Chancellor? + +WRANGEL (_considerately_). + +Twelve regiments, every man a Swede--my head +The warranty--and all might prove at last +Only false play-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_starting_). + + Sir Swede! + +WRANGEL (_calmly proceeding_). + + Am therefore forced +T' insist thereon, that he do formally, +Irrevocably break with the Emperor, +Else not a Swede is trusted to Duke Friedland. + +WALLENST. + +Come, brief, and open! What is the demand? + +WRANGEL. + +That he forthwith disarm the Spanish regiments +Attached to the Emp'ror, that he seize on Prague, +And to the Swedes give up that city, with +The strong pass Egra. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That is much indeed! +Prague!--Egra's granted--but--but Prague!--'T won't do. +I give you every security +Which you may ask of me in common reason-- +But Prague--Bohemia--these, Sir General, +I can myself protect. + +WRANGEL. + + We doubt it not. +But 'tis not the protection that is now +Our sole concern. We want security +That we shall not expend our men and money +All to no purpose. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis but reasonable. + +WRANGEL. + +And till we are indemnified, so long +Stays Prague in pledge. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Then trust you us so little? + +WRANGEL (_rising_). + +The Swede, if he would treat well with the German, +Must keep a sharp look-out. We have been call'd +Over the Baltic, we have saved the empire +From ruin--with our best blood have we sealed +The liberty of faith and gospel truth. +But now already is the benefaction +No longer felt, the load alone is felt. +Ye look askance with evil eye upon us, +As foreigners, intruders in the empire, +And would fain send us, with some paltry sum +Of money, home again to our old forests. +No, no! my Lord Duke! no!--it never was +For Judas' pay, for chinking gold and silver, +That we did leave our King by the Great Stone[24] +No, not for gold and silver have there bled +So many of our Swedish Nobles--neither +Will we, with empty laurels for our payment, +Hoist sail for our own country. _Citizens_ +Will we remain upon the soil, the which +Our Monarch conquer'd for himself, and died. + +WALLENST. + +Help to keep down the common enemy, +And the fair border land must needs be yours. + +WRANGEL. + +But when the common enemy lies vanquish'd, +Who knits together our new friendship then? +We know, Duke Friedland! though perhaps the Swede +Ought not to have known it, that you carry on +Secret negotiations with the Saxons. +Who is our warranty, that _we_ are not +The sacrifices in those articles +Which 'tis thought needful to conceal from us? + +WALLENSTEIN (_rises_). + +Think you of something better, Gustave Wrangel! +Of Prague no more. + +WRANGEL. + + Here my commission ends. + +WALLENST. + +Surrender up to you my capital! +Far liever would I face about, and step +Back to my Emperor. + +WRANGEL. + + If time yet permits-- + +WALLENST. + +That lies with me, even now, at any hour. + +WRANGEL. + +Some days ago, perhaps. Today, no longer; +No longer since Sesina's been a prisoner. + + [WALLENSTEIN _is struck, and silenced_.] + +My Lord Duke, hear me--We believe that you +At present do mean honorably by us. +Since _yesterday_ we're sure of that--and now +This paper warrants for the troops, there's nothing +Stands in the way of our full confidence. +Prague shall not part us. Hear! The Chancellor +Contents himself with Altstadt; to your Grace +He gives up Ratschin and the narrow side. +But Egra above all must open to us, +Ere we can think of any junction. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + You, +You therefore must I trust, and not you me? +I will consider of your proposition. + +WRANGEL. + +I must entreat that your consideration +Occupy not too long a time. Already +Has this negotiation, my Lord Duke, +Crept on into the second year! If nothing +Is settled this time, will the Chancellor +Consider it as broken off for ever. + +WALLENST. + +Ye press me hard. A measure such as this, +Ought to be _thought_ of. + +WRANGEL. + + Ay! but think of this too, +That sudden action only can procure it +Success--think first of this, your Highness. + + [_Exit_ WRANGEL.] + + +SCENE VI + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, _and_ ILLO (_re-enter_) + +ILLO. + + It's all right? + +TERZKY. + + Are you compromised? + +ILLO. + + This Swede +Went smiling from you. Yes! you're compromised. + +WALLENST. + +As yet is nothing settled: and (well weighed) +I feel myself inclined to leave it so. + +TERZKY. + +How? What is that? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Come on me what will come, +The doing evil to avoid an evil +Cannot be good! + +TERZKY. + + Nay, but bethink you, Duke. + +WALLENST. + +To live upon the mercy of these Swedes! +Of these proud-hearted Swedes!--I could not bear it. + +ILLO. + +Goest thou as fugitive, as mendicant? +Bringest thou not more to them than thou receivest? + +WALLENST. + +How fared it with the brave and royal Bourbon +Who sold himself unto his country's foes, +And pierced the bosom of his father-land? +Curses were his reward, and men's abhorrence +Avenged th' unnatural and revolting deed. + +ILLO. + +Is that thy case? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + True faith, I tell thee, +Must ever be the dearest friend of man: +His nature prompts him to assert its rights. +The enmity of sects, the rage of parties, +Long cherish'd envy, jealousy, unite; +And all the struggling elements of evil +Suspend their conflict, and together league +In one alliance 'gainst their common foe-- +The savage beast that breaks into the fold, +Where men repose in confidence and peace. +For vain were man's own prudence to protect him. +'Tis only in the forehead nature plants +The watchful eye--the back, without defence, +Must find its shield in man's fidelity. + +TERZKY. + +Think not more meanly of thyself than do +Thy foes, who stretch their hands with joy to greet thee; +Less scrupulous far was the Imperial Charles, +The powerful head of this illustrious house; +With open arms he gave the Bourbon welcome; +For still by policy the world is ruled. + + +SCENE VII + +_To these enter the_ COUNTESS TERZKY + +WALLENST. + +Who sent for you? There is no business here +For women. + +COUNTESS. + + I am come to bid you joy. + +WALLENST. + +Use thy authority, Terzky; bid her go. + +COUNTESS. + +Come I perhaps too early? I hope not. + +WALLENST. + +Set not this tongue upon me, I entreat you: +You know it is the weapon that destroys me. +I am routed, if a woman but attack me: +I cannot traffic in the trade of words +With that unreasoning sex. + +COUNTESS. + + I had already +Given the Bohemians a king. + +WALLENSTEIN (_sarcastically_). + + They have one, +In consequence, no doubt. + +COUNTESS (_to the others_). + + Ha! what new scruple? + +TERZKY. + +The Duke will not. + +COUNTESS. + + He _will not_ what he _must_! + +ILLO. + +It lies with you now. Try. For I am silenced +When folks begin to talk to me of conscience +And of fidelity. + +COUNTESS. + + How? then, when all +Lay in the far-off distance, when the road +Stretch'd out before thine eyes interminably, +Then hadst thou courage and resolve; and now, +Now that the dream is being realized, +The purpose ripe, the issue ascertain'd, +Dost thou begin to play the dastard now? +Plann'd merely, 'tis a common felony; +Accomplish'd, an immortal undertaking: +And with success comes pardon hand in hand, +For all event is God's arbitrament. + +SERVANT (_enters_). + +The Colonel Piccolomini. + +COUNTESS (_hastily_). + +Must wait. + +WALLENST. + +I cannot see him now. Another time. + +SERVANT. + +But for two minutes he entreats an audience: +Of the most urgent nature is his business. + +WALLENST. + +Who knows what he may bring us! I will hear him. + +COUNTESS (_laughs_). + +Urgent for him, no doubt? but thou may'st wait. + +WALLENST. + +What is it? + +COUNTESS. + + Thou shalt be inform'd hereafter. +First let the Swede and thee be compromised. + +[_Exit_ SERVANT.] + +WALLENST. + +If there were yet a choice! if yet some milder +Way of escape were possible--I still +Will choose it, and avoid the last extreme. + +COUNTESS. + +Desirest thou nothing further? Such a way +Lies still before thee. Send this Wrangel off. +Forget thou thy old hopes, cast far away +All thy past life; determine to commence +A new one. Virtue hath her heroes too, +As well as fame and fortune.--To Vienna +Hence--to the Emperor--kneel before the throne +Take a full coffer with thee--say aloud, +Thou didst but wish to prove thy fealty; +Thy whole intention but to dupe the Swede. + +ILLO. + +For that too 'tis too late. They know too much; +He would but bear his own head to the block. + +COUNTESS. + +I fear not that. They have not evidence +To attaint him legally, and they avoid +The avowal of an arbitrary power. +They'll let the Duke resign without disturbance. +I see how all will end. The King of Hungary +Makes his appearance, and 'twill of itself +Be understood that then the Duke retires. +There will not want a formal declaration; +The young King will administer the oath +To the whole army; and so all returns +To the old position. On some morrow morning +The Duke departs; and now 'tis stir and bustle +Within his castles. He will hunt, and build, +And superintend his horses' pedigrees; +Creates himself a court, gives golden keys, +And introduces strictest ceremony +In fine proportions, and nice etiquette; +Keeps open table with high cheer: in brief, +Commences mighty King--in miniature. +And while he prudently demeans himself, +And gives himself no actual importance, +He will be let appear whate'er he likes; +And who dares doubt that Friedland will appear +A mighty Prince to his last dying hour? +Well now, what then? Duke Friedland is as others, +A fire-new Noble, whom the war hath raised +To price and currency, a Jonah's gourd, +An over-night creation of court-favor, +Which with an undistinguishable ease +Makes Baron or makes Prince. + +WALLENSTEIN (_in extreme agitation_). + + Take her away. +Let in the young Count Piccolomini. + +COUNTESS. + +Art thou in earnest? I entreat thee! Canst thou +Consent to bear thyself to thy own grave, +So ignominiously to be dried up? +Thy life, that arrogated such an height +To end in such a nothing! To be nothing, +When one was always nothing, is an evil +That asks no stretch of patience, a light evil; +But to become a nothing, having been-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_starts up in violent agitation_). + +Show me a way out of this stifling crowd, +Ye powers of Aidance! Show me such a way +As _I_ am capable of going. I +Am no tongue-hero, no fine virtue-prattler; +I cannot warm by thinking; cannot say +To the good luck that turns her back upon me, +Magnanimously: "Go; I need thee not." +Cease I to work, I am annihilated. +Dangers nor sacrifices will I shun, +If so I may avoid the last extreme; +But ere I sink down into nothingness, +Leave off so little, who began so great, +Ere that the world confuses me with those +Poor wretches whom a day creates and crumbles, +This age and after ages[25] speak my name +With hate and dread; and Friedland be redemption +For each accursed deed. + +COUNTESS. + + What is there here, then, +So against nature? Help me to perceive it! +O let not Superstition's nightly goblins +Subdue thy clear bright spirit! Art thou bid +To murder?--with abhorr'd, accursed poinard, +To violate the breasts that nourish'd thee? +That _were_ against our nature, that might aptly +Make thy flesh shudder, and thy whole heart sicken,[26] +Yet not a few, and for a meaner object, +Have ventured even this, ay, and perform'd it. +What is there in thy case so black and monstrous? +Thou art accused of treason--whether with +Or without justice is not now the question-- +Thou art lost if thou dost not avail thee quickly +Of the power which thou possessest--Friedland! _Duke!_ +Tell me where lives that thing so meek and tame, +That doth not all his living faculties +Put forth in preservation of his life? +What deed so daring, which necessity +And desperation will not sanctify? + +WALLENST. + +Once was this Ferdinand so gracious to me; +He loved me; he esteem'd me; I was placed +The nearest to his heart. Full many a time +We like familiar friends, both at one table, +Have banqueted together. He and I-- +And the young kings themselves held me the basin +Wherewith to wash me--and is't come to this? + +COUNTESS. + +So faithfully preserves thou each small favor, +And hast no memory for contumelies? +Must I remind thee, how at Regensburg +This man repaid thy faithful services? +All ranks and all conditions in the empire +Thou hadst wronged, to make him great,--hadst loaded on thee, +On _thee_, the hate, the curse of the whole world. +No friend existed for thee in all Germany, +And why? because thou hadst existed only +For the Emperor. To the Emperor alone +Clung Friedland in that storm which gather'd round him +At Regensburg in the Diet--and he dropp'd thee! +He let thee fall! he let thee fall a victim +To the Bavarian, to that insolent! +Deposed, stript bare of all thy dignity +And power, amid the taunting of thy foes, +Thou wert let drop into obscurity.-- +Say not the restoration of thy honor +Has made atonement for that first injustice. +No honest good-will was it that replaced thee; +The law of hard necessity replaced thee, +Which they had fain opposed, but that they could not. + +WALLENST. + +Not to their good wishes, that is certain, +Nor yet to his affection I'm indebted +For this high office: and if I abuse it, +I shall therein abuse no confidence. + +COUNTESS. + +Affection! confidence!--they _needed_ thee. +Necessity, impetuous remonstrant! +Who not with empty names, or shows of proxy, +Is served, who'll have the thing and not the symbol, +Ever seeks out the greatest and the best, +And at the rudder places _him_, e'en though +She had been forced to take him from the rabble-- +She, this Necessity, it was that placed thee +In this high office; it was she that gave thee +Thy letters patent of inauguration. +For, to the uttermost moment that they can, +This race still help themselves at cheapest rate +With slavish souls, with puppets! At the approach +Of extreme peril, when a hollow image +Is found a hollow image and no more, +Then falls the power into the mighty hands +Of Nature, of the spirit giant-born, +Who listens only to himself, knows nothing +Of stipulations, duties, reverences, +And, like the emancipated force of fire, +Unmaster'd scorches, ere it reaches them, +Their fine-spun webs, their artificial policy. + +WALLENST. + +'Tis true! they saw me always as I am-- +Always! I did not cheat them in the bargain. +I never held it worth my pains to hide +The bold all-grasping habit of my soul. + +COUNTESS. + +Nay rather--thou hast ever shown thyself +A formidable man, without restraint; +Hast exercised the full prerogatives +Of thy impetuous nature, which had been +Once granted to thee. Therefore, Duke, not _thou_ +Who hast still remained consistent with thyself; +But _they_ are in the wrong, who fearing thee, +Intrusted such a power in hand they fear'd. +For, by the laws of Spirit, in the right +Is every individual character +That acts in strict consistence with itself. +Self-contradiction is the only wrong. +Wert thou another being, then, when thou +Eight years ago pursuedst thy march with fire, +And sword, and desolation, through the Circles +Of Germany, the universal scourge, +Didst mock all ordinances of the empire, +The fearful rights of strength alone exertedst, +Trampledst to earth each rank, each magistracy, +All to extend thy Sultan's domination? +Then was the time to break thee in, to curb +Thy haughty will, to teach thee ordinance. +But no, the Emperor felt no touch of conscience; +What served him pleased him, and without a murmur +He stamp'd his broad seal on these lawless deeds. +What at that time was right, because thou didst it +_For him_, today is all at once become +Opprobrious, foul, because it is directed +_Against him_.--O most flimsy superstition! + +WALLENSTEIN (_rising_). + +I never saw it in this light before; +'Tis even so. The Emperor perpetrated +Deeds through my arm, deeds most unorderly. +And even this prince's mantle, which I wear, +I owe to what were services to him, +But most high misdemeanors 'gainst the empire. + +COUNTESS. + +Then betwixt thee and him (confess it Friedland!) +The point can be no more of right and duty, +Only of power and the opportunity. +That opportunity, lo! it comes yonder +Approaching with swift steeds; then with a swing +Throw thyself up into the chariot-seat, +Seize with firm hand the reins, ere thy opponent +Anticipate thee, and himself make conquest +Of the now empty seat. The moment comes; +It is already here, when thou must write +The absolute total of thy life's vast sum. +The constellations stand victorious o'er thee, +The planets shoot good fortune in fair junctions, +And tell thee, "Now's the time!" The starry courses +Hast thou thy life long measured to no purpose? +The quadrant and the circle, were they play-things? + +[_Pointing to the different objects in the room_.] + +The zodiacs, the rolling orbs of heaven, +Hast pictured on these walls, and all around thee +In dumb, foreboding symbols hast thou placed +These seven presiding Lords of Destiny-- +For toys? Is all this preparation nothing? +Is there no marrow in this hollow art, +That even to thyself it doth avail +Nothing, and has no influence over thee +In the great moment of decision?-- + +WALLENSTEIN. (_during this last speech walks up and down with +inward struggles, laboring with passion; stops suddenly, +stands still, then interrupting the_ COUNTESS). + +Send Wrangel to me--I will instantly +Dispatch three couriers-- + +ILLO (_hurrying out_). + + God in heaven be praised! + +WALLENST. + +It is _his_ evil genius and _mine_. +Our evil genius! It chastises _him_ +Through me, the instrument of his ambition; +And I expect no less than that Revenge +E'en now is whetting for _my_ breast the poinard. +Who sows the serpent's teeth, let him not hope +To reap a joyous harvest. Every crime +Has, in the moment of its perpetration, +Its own avenging angel--dark misgiving, +An ominous sinking at the inmost heart. +He can no longer trust me. Then no longer +Can I retreat--so come that which must come. +Still destiny preserves its due relations, +The heart within us is its absolute +Vicegerent. + +[_To TERZKY_.] + + Go, conduct you Gustave Wrangel +To my state-cabinet.--Myself will speak to +The couriers.--And dispatch immediately +A servant for Octavio Piccolomini. + +[_To the _COUNTESS, _who cannot conceal her triumph_.] + +No exultation! woman, triumph not! +For jealous are the Powers of Destiny. +Joy premature, and shouts ere victory, +Encroach upon their rights and privileges. +We sow the seed, and they the growth determine. + +[_While he is making his exit the curtain drops_.] + + * * * * * + + + +ACT II + + +SCENE I + +_Scene, as in the preceding Act_ + +WALLENSTEIN, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI + +WALLENSTEIN (_coming forward in conversation_). + +He sends me word from Linz that he lies sick; +But I have sure intelligence that he +Secretes himself at Frauenberg with Gallas. +Secure them both, and send them to me hither. +Remember, thou takest on thee the command +Of those same Spanish regiments,--constantly +Make preparation, and be never ready; +And if they urge thee to draw out against me, +Still answer YES, and stand as thou wert fetter'd; +I know that it is doing thee a service +To keep thee out of action in this business. +Thou lovest to linger on in fair appearances; +Steps of extremity are not thy province; +Therefore have I sought out this part for thee. +Thou wilt this time be of most service to me +By thy inertness. The mean time, if fortune +Declare itself on my side, thou wilt know +What is to do. + +_Enter_ MAX PICCOLOMINI + + Now go, Octavio. +This night must thou be off, take my own horses +Him here I keep with me--make short farewell-- +Trust me, I think, we all shall meet again +In joy and thriving fortunes. + +OCTAVIO (_to his son_). + + I shall see you +Yet ere I go. + + +SCENE II + +WALLENSTEIN, MAX PICCOLOMINI + +MAX. (_advances to him_). + +My General? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That I am no longer, if +Thou stylest thyself the Emperor's officer. + +MAX. + +Then thou wilt leave the army, General? + +WALLENST. + +I have renounced the service of the Emperor. + +MAX. + +And thou wilt leave the army? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Rather hope I +To bind it nearer still and faster to me. + +[_He seats himself_.] + +Yes, Max, I have delay'd to open it to thee, +Even till the hour of acting 'gins to strike. +Youth's fortunate feeling doth seize easily +The absolute right, yea, and a joy it is +To exercise the single apprehension +Where the sums square in proof; +But where it happens that of two sure evils +One must be taken, where the heart not wholly +Brings itself back from out the strife of duties, +There 'tis a blessing to have no election, +And blank necessity is grace and favor. +--This is now present: do not look behind thee,-- +It can no more avail thee. Look thou forwards! +Think not! judge not! prepare thyself to act! +The Court--it hath determined on my ruin, +Therefore I will be beforehand with them. +We'll join the Swedes--right gallant fellows are they, +And our good friends. + +[_He stops himself, expecting_ PICCOLOMINI's _answer_.] + +I have ta'en thee by surprise. Answer me not. +I grant thee time to recollect thyself. + +[_He rises, retires at the back of the stage_. MAX _remains for a +long time motionless, in a trance of excessive anguish. At his +first motion_ WALLENSTEIN _returns, and places himself before +him_.] + +MAX. + +My General, this day thou makest me +Of age to speak in my own right and person, +For till this day I have been spared the trouble +To find out my own road. Thee have I follow'd +With most implicit unconditional faith, +Sure of the right path if I follow'd thee. +Today, for the first time, dost thou refer +Me to myself, and forcest me to make +Election between thee and my own heart. + +WALLENST. + +Soft cradled thee thy Fortune till today; +Thy duties thou couldst exercise in sport, +Indulge all lovely instincts, act forever +With undivided heart. It can remain +No longer thus. Like enemies, the roads +Start from each other. Duties strive with duties. +Thou must needs choose thy party in the war +Which is now kindling 'twixt thy friend and him +Who is thy Emperor. + +MAX. + + War! is that the name? +War is as frightful as heaven's pestilence, +Yet it is good. Is it heaven's will as that is? +Is that a good war, which against the Emperor +Thou wagest with the Emperor's own army? +O God of heaven! what a change is this! +Beseems it me to offer such persuasion +To thee, who like the fix'd star of the pole +Wert all I gazed at on life's trackless ocean? +O! what a rent thou makest in my heart! +The ingrain'd instinct of old reverence, +The holy habit of obediency, +Must I pluck live asunder from thy name? +Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me-- +It always was as a god looking upon me! +Duke Wallenstein, its power has not departed. +The senses still are in thy bonds, although, +Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Max, hear me. + +MAX. + +O! do it not, I pray thee, do it not! +There is a pure and noble soul within thee +Knows not of this unblest, unlucky doing. +Thy will is chaste, it is thy fancy only +Which hath polluted thee; and innocence-- +It will not let itself be driven away +From that world-awing aspect. Thou wilt not, +Thou canst not, end in this. It would reduce +All human creatures to disloyalty +Against the nobleness of their own nature. +'Twill justify the vulgar misbelief +Which holdeth nothing noble in free will +And trusts itself to impotence alone +Made powerful only in an unknown power. + +WALLENST. + +The world will judge me sternly, I expect it. +Already have I said to my own self +All thou canst say to me. Who but avoids +The extreme, can he by going round avoid it? +But here there is no choice. Yes--I must use +Or suffer violence--so stands the case; +There remains nothing possible but that. + +MAX. + +O that is never possible for thee! +'Tis the last desperate resource of those +Cheap souls to whom their honor, their good name +Is their poor _saving_, their last worthless _keep_, +Which, having staked and lost, they stake themselves +In the mad rage of gaming. Thou art rich +And glorious; with an unpolluted heart +Thou canst make conquest of whate'er seems highest! +But he, who once hath acted infamy, +Does nothing more in this world. + +WALLENSTEIN (_grasps his hand_). + + Calmly, Max! +Much that is great and excellent will we +Perform together yet. And if we only +Stand on the height with dignity, 'tis soon +Forgotten, Max, by what road we ascended. +Believe me, many a crown shines spotless now +That yet was deeply sullied in the winning. +To the evil spirit doth the earth belong, +Not to the good. All that the powers divine +Send from above are universal blessings, +Their light rejoices us, their air refreshes, +But never yet was man enrich'd by them +In their eternal realm no _property_ +Is to be struggled for--all there is general +The jewel, the all-valued gold we win +From the deceiving Powers, depraved in nature, +That dwell beneath the day and blessed sun-light. +Not without sacrifices are they render'd +Propitious, and there lives no soul on earth +That e'er retired unsullied from their service. + +MAX. + +Whate'er is human, to the human being +Do I allow--and to the vehement +And striving spirit readily I pardon +The excess of action; but to thee, my General, +Above _all_ others make I large concession. +For thou must move a world, and be the master-- +He kills thee who condemns thee to inaction. +So be it then! maintain thee in thy post +By violence. Resist the Emperor, +And, if it must be, force with force repel: +I will not praise it, yet I can forgive it. +But not--not to the _traitor_--yes!--the word +Is spoken out-- +Not to the traitor can I yield a pardon. +That is no mere excess! that is no error +Of human nature--that is wholly different; +O that is black, black as the pit of hell! + + [WALLENSTEIN _betrays a sudden agitation_.] + +Thou canst not hear it _named_, and wilt thou _do_ it? +O, turn back to thy duty! That thou canst +I hold it certain. Send me to Vienna: +I'll make thy peace for thee with the Emperor. +He knows thee not. But I do know thee. He +Shall see thee, Duke, with my unclouded eye, +And I bring back his confidence to thee. + +WALLENST. + +It is too late! Thou knowest not what has happen'd. + +MAX. + +Were it too late, and were things gone so far, +That a crime only could prevent thy fall, +Then--fall! fall honorably, even as thou stood'st! +Lose the command. Go from the stage of war, +Thou canst with splendor do it--do it too +With innocence. Thou hast lived much for others, +At length live thou for thy own self. I follow thee; +My destiny I never part from thine. + +WALLENST. + +It is too late! Even now, while thou art losing +Thy words, one after the other are the milestones +Left fast behind by my post couriers +Who bear the order on to Prague and Egra. + +[MAX _stands as convulsed, with a gesture and_ _countenance +expressing the most intense_ _anguish_.] + +Yield thyself to it. We act as we are forced. +_I_ cannot give assent to my own shame +And ruin. _Thou_--no--thou canst not forsake me! +So let us do what must be done, with dignity, +With a firm step. What am I doing worse +Than did famed Csar at the Rubicon, +When he the legions led against his country, +The which his country had delivered to him? +Had he thrown down the sword he had been lost, +As I were if I but disarm'd myself. +I trace out something in me of this spirit; +Give me his luck, _that other thing_ I'll bear. + +[MAX _quits him abruptly_. WALLENSTEIN _startled and +overpowered, continues looking after him and is still in +this posture when_ TERZKY _enters_.] + + +SCENE III + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY + +TERZKY. + +Max Piccolomini just left you? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Where is Wrangel? + +TERZKY. + +He is already gone. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In such a hurry? + +TERZKY. + +It is as if the earth had swallow'd him. +He had scarce left thee when I went to seek him. +I wish'd some words with him--but he was gone. +How, when, and where, could no one tell me. Nay, +I half believe it was the devil himself; +A human creature could not so at once +Have vanish'd. + +ILLO (_enters_). + + Is it true that thou wilt send +Octavio? + +TERZKY. + + How, Octavio! Whither send him? + +WALLENST. + +He goes to Frauenburg, and will lead hither +The Spanish and Italian regiments. + +ILLO. + + No! +Nay, Heaven forbid! + +WALLENSTEIN. + +And why should Heaven forbid? + +ILLO. + +Him!--that deceiver! Wouldst thou trust to him +The soldiery? Him wilt thou let slip from thee, +Now in the very instant that decides us-- + +TERZKY. + +Thou wilt not do this--No! I pray thee, no! + +WALLENST. + +Ye are whimsical. + +ILLO. + + O but for this time, Duke, +Yield to our warning! Let him not depart. + +WALLENST. + +And why should I not trust him only this time, +Who have always trusted him? What, then, has happen'd +That I should lose my good opinion of him? +In complaisance to your whims, not my own, +I must, forsooth, give up a rooted judgment. +Think not I am a woman. Having trusted him +E'en till today, today too will I trust him. + +TERZKY. + +Must it be he--he only? Send another. + +WALLENST. + +It must be he whom I myself have chosen; +He is well fitted for the business. Therefore +I gave it him. + +ILLO. + + Because he's an Italian-- +Therefore is he well fitted for the business! + +WALLENST. + +I know you love them not--nor sire nor son-- +Because that I esteem them, love them--visibly +Esteem them, love them more than you and others. +E'en as they merit. Therefore are they eye-blights, +Thorns in your foot-path. But your jealousies, +In what affect they me or my concerns? +Are they the worse to _me_ because you hate them? +Love or hate one another as you will, +I leave to each man his own moods and likings; +Yet know the worth of each of you to me. + +ILLO. + +Von Questenberg, while he was here, was always +Lurking about with this Octavio. + +WALLENST. + +It happen'd with my knowledge and permission. + +ILLO. + +I know that secret messengers came to him +From Gallas-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That's not true. + +ILLO. + + O thou art blind, +With thy deep-seeing eyes! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Thou wilt not shake +My faith for me--my faith, which founds itself +On the profoundest science. If 'tis false, +Then the whole science of the stars is false; +For know, I have a pledge from Fate itself, +That he is the most faithful of my friends. + +ILLO. + +Hast thou a pledge, that this pledge is not false? + +WALLENST. + +There exist moments in the life of man, +When he is nearer the great Soul of the world +Than is man's custom, and possesses freely +The power of questioning his destiny: +And such a moment 'twas, when in the night +Before the action in the plains of Ltzen, +Leaning against a tree, thoughts crowding thoughts, +I look'd out far upon the ominous plain. +My whole life, past and future, in this moment +Before my mind's eye glided in procession, +And to the destiny of the next morning +The spirit, fill'd with anxious presentiment, +Did knit the most removed futurity. +Then said I also to myself: "So many +Dost thou command. They follow all thy stars +And as on some great number set their All +Upon thy single head, and only man +The vessel of thy fortune. Yet a day +Will come when Destiny shall once more scatter +All these in many a several direction: +Few be they who will stand out faithful to thee." +I yearn'd to know which one was faithfullest +Of all, this camp included. Great Destiny, +Give me a sign! And he shall be the man, +Who, on the approaching morning, comes the first +To meet me with a token of his love. +And thinking this, I fell into a slumber. +Then midmost in the battle was I led +In spirit. Great the pressure and the tumult! +Then was my horse kil'd under me; I sank; +And over me away, all unconcernedly, +Drove horse and rider--and thus trod to pieces +I lay, and panted like a dying man; +Then seized me suddenly a savior arm; +It was Octavio's--I awoke at once; +'Twas broad day, and _Octavio_ stood before me. +"My brother," said he, "do not ride today +The dapple, as you're wont; but mount the horse +Which I have chosen for thee. Do it, brother! +In love to me. A strong dream warn'd me so." +It was the swiftness of his horse that snatch'd me +From the hot pursuit of Bannier's dragoons. +My cousin rode the dapple on that day, +And never more saw I of horse or rider. + +ILLO. + +That was a chance. + +WALLENSTEIN (_significantly_). + + There's no such thing as chance. +[And what to us seems merest accident +Springs from the deepest source of destiny.] +In brief, 'tis sign'd and seal'd that this Octavio +Is my good angel--and now no word more. + + [_He is retiring_.] + +TERZKY. + +This is my comfort--Max remains our hostage. + +ILLO. + +And he shall never stir from here alive. + +WALLENSTEIN (_stops and turns himself round_). + +Are ye not like the women who forever +Only recur to their first word, although +One had been talking reason by the hour! +Know that the human being's thoughts and needs +Are not like ocean billows, blindly moved. +The inner world, his microcosmus, is +The deep shaft out of which they spring eternally. +They grow by certain laws, like the tree's fruit-- +No juggling chance can metamorphose them. +Have I the human _kernel_ first examined? +Then I know, too, the future will and action. + + [_Exeunt_.] + + +SCENE IV + + +_Chamber in the residence of Piccolomini_ + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI (_attired for traveling_), AN ADJUTANT + +OCTAVIO. + +Is the detachment here? + +ADJUT. + + It awaits below. + +OCTAVIO. + +And are the soldiers trusty, Adjutant? +Say, from what regiment hast thou chosen them? + +ADJUT. From Tiefenbach's. + +OCTAVIO. + + That regiment is loyal; +Keep them in silence in the inner court, +Unseen by all, and when the signal peals +Then close the doors; keep watch upon the house, +And all ye meet be instantly arrested. + + [_Exit Adjutant_.] + +I hope indeed I shall not need their service, +So certain feel I of my well laid plans; +But when an empire's safety is at stake +'Twere better too much caution than too little. + + +SCENE V + +_A Chamber in PICCOLOMINI's Dwelling-House_. + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, ISOLANI, _entering_ + +ISOLANI. + +Here am I--Well! who comes yet of the others? + +OCTAVIO (_with an air of mystery_). + +But, first, a word with you, Count Isolani. + +ISOLANI (_assuming the same air of mystery_). + +Will it explode, ha?--Is the Duke about +To make the attempt? In me, friend, you may place +Full confidence--Nay, put me to the proof. + +OCTAVIO. + +That may happen. + +ISOLANI. + + Noble brother, I am +Not one of those men who in words are valiant, +And when it comes to action skulk away. +The Duke has acted toward me as a friend. +God knows it is so; and I owe him all-- +He may rely on my fidelity. + +OCTAVIO. + +That will be seen hereafter. + +ISOLANI. + + Be on your guard, +All think not as I think; and there are many +Who still hold with the Court--yes, and they say +That those stolen signatures bind them to nothing. + +[OCTAVIO. + +Indeed! Pray name to me the chiefs that think so. + +ISOLANI. + +Plague upon them! all the Germans think so; +Esterhazy, Kaunitz, Deodati, too, +Insist upon obedience to the Court.] + +OCTAVIO. + + I am rejoiced to hear it. + +ISOLANI. + +You rejoice + +OCTAVIO. + +That the Emperor has yet such gallant servants, +And loving friends! + +ISOLANI. + + Nay, jeer not, I entreat you. +They are no such worthless fellows, I assure you. + +OCTAVIO. + +I am assured already. God forbid +That I should jest!--In very serious earnest, +I am rejoiced to see an honest cause +So strong. + +ISOLANI. + + The Devil!--what!--Why, what means this? +Are you not, then--For what, then, am I here? + +OCTAVIO. + +That you may make full declaration, whether +You will be call'd the friend or enemy +Of the Emperor. + +ISOLANI (_with an air of defiance_). + + That declaration, friend, +I'll make to him in whom a right is placed +To put that question to me. + +OCTAVIO. + + Whether, Count, +That right is mine, this paper may, instruct you. + +ISOLANI (_stammering_). + +Why,--why--what! this is the Emperor's hand and seal! [_Reads_.] +"Whereas, the officers collectively +Throughout our army will obey the orders +Of the Lieutenant-General Piccolomini. +As from ourselves."--_Hem_--Yes! so I-- +Yes! yes!-- +I--I give you joy, Lieutenant-General! + +OCTAVIO. + +And you submit you to the order? + +ISOLANI. + + I-- +But you have taken me so by surprise-- +Time for reflection one _must_ have-- + +OCTAVIO. + + Two minutes. + +ISOLANI. + +My God! But then the case is-- + +OCTAVIO. + + Plain and simple +You must declare you, whether you determine +To act a treason 'gainst your Lord and Sovereign, +Or whether you will serve him faithfully. + +ISOLANI. + +Treason!--My God!--But who talks then of +treason? + +OCTAVIO. + +That is the case. The Prince-duke is a traitor-- +Means to lead over to the enemy +The Emperor's army.--Now, Count!--brief +and full-- +Say, will you break your oath to the Emperor? +Sell yourself to the enemy?--Say, will you? + +ISOLANI. + +What mean you? I--I break my oath, d'ye say, +To his Imperial Majesty? +Did I say so!--When, when have I said that? + +OCTAVIO. + +You have not said it yet--not yet. This instant +I wait to hear, Count, whether you _will_ say it. + +ISOLANI. + +Ay! that delights me now, that you yourself +Bear witness for me that I never said so. + +OCTAVIO. + +And you renounce the Duke then? + +ISOLANI. + + If he's planning +Treason--why, treason breaks all bonds +asunder. + +OCTAVIO. + +And are determined, too, to fight against him? + +ISOLANI. + +He has done me service--but if he's a villain, +Perdition seize him!--All scores are rubb'd off. + +OCTAVIO. + +I am rejoiced that you are so well disposed. +This night, break off in the utmost secrecy +With all the light-arm'd troops--it must appear +As came the order from the Duke himself. +At Frauenburg's the place of rendezvous; +There will Count Gallas give you further orders. + +ISOLANI. + +It shall be done.-But you'll remember me +With the Emperor--how well-disposed you +found me. + +OCTAVIO. + +I will not fail to mention it honorably. + +[_Exit_ ISOLANI. _A Servant enters_.] + +What, Colonel Butler!--Show him up. + +ISOLANI (_returning_). + +Forgive me too my bearish ways, old father! +Lord God! how should I know, then, what a great +Person I had before me. + +OCTAVIO. + No excuses! + +ISOLANI. + +I am a merry lad, and if at time +A rash word might escape me 'gainst the Court +Amidst my wine--You know no harm was +meant. + + [_Exit_.] + +OCTAVIO. + +You need not be uneasy on that score +That has succeeded. Fortune favor us +With all the others only but as much! + + +SCENE VI + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, BUTLER + +BUTLER. + +At your command, Lieutenant-General. + +OCTAVIO. + +Welcome, as honor'd friend and visitor. + +BUTLER. + +You do me too much honor. + +OCTAVIO (_after both have seated themselves_). + + You have not +Return'd the advances which I made you yesterday-- +Misunderstood them as mere empty forms. +That wish proceeded from my heart--I was +In earnest with you--for 'tis now a time +In which the honest should unite most closely. + +BUTLER. + +'Tis only the like-minded can unite. + +OCTAVIO. + +True! and I name all honest men like-minded. +I never charge a man but with those acts +To which his character deliberately +Impels him; for alas! the violence +Of blind misunderstandings often thrusts +The very best of us from the right track. +You came through Frauenburg. Did the Count Gallas +Say nothing to you? Tell me. He's my friend. + +BUTLER. + +His words were lost on _me_. + +OCTAVIO. + + It grieves me sorely, +To hear it: for his counsel was most wise. +I had myself the like to offer. + +BUTLER. + + Spare +Yourself the trouble--me th' embarrassment, +To have deserved so ill your good opinion. + +OCTAVIO. + +The time is precious--let us talk openly. +You know how matters stand here. Wallenstein +Meditates treason--I can tell you further, +He has committed treason; but few hours +Have past since he a covenant concluded +With the enemy. The messengers are now +Full on their way to Egra and to Prague. +Tomorrow he intends to lead us over +To the enemy. But he deceives himself; +For Prudence wakes--The Emperor has still +Many and faithful friends here, and they stand +In closest union, mighty though unseen. +This manifesto sentences the Duke-- +Recalls the obedience of the army from him, +And summons all the loyal, all the honest, +To join and recognize in me their leader. +Choose--will you share with us an honest cause? +Or with the evil share an evil lot? + +BUTLER (_rises_). + +His lot is mine. + +OCTAVIO. + + Is that your last resolve? + +BUTLER. + +It is. + +OCTAVIO. + + Nay, but bethink you, Colonel Butler! +As yet you have time. Within my faithful breast +That rashly utter'd word remains interr'd. +Recall it, Butler! choose a better party; +You have not chosen the right one. + +BUTLER (_going_). + + Any other +Commands for me, Lieutenant-General? + +OCTAVIO. + +See your white hairs: recall that word! + +BUTLER. + +Farewell! + +OCTAVIO. + +What! Would you draw this good and gallant sword +In such a cause? Into a curse would you +Transform the gratitude which you have earn'd +By forty years' fidelity from Austria? + +BUTLER (_laughing with bitterness_). + +Gratitude from the House of Austria! + + [He is going.] + +OCTAVIO (_permits him to go as far as the door, then calls after him_). + +Butler! + +BUTLER. + + What wish you? + +OCTAVIO. + + How was't with the Count? + +BUTLER. + +Count? what? + +OCTAVIO (_coldly_). + + The title that you wish'd, I mean. + +BUTLER (_starts in sudden passion_). + +Hell and damnation! + +OCTAVIO (_coldly_). + + You petition'd for it-- +And your petition was repelled--Was it so? + +BUTLER. + +Your insolent scoff shall not go by unpunish'd. +Draw! + +OCTAVIO. + +Nay! your sword to 'ts sheath! and tell me calmly, +How all that happen'd. I will not refuse you +Your satisfaction afterward. Calmly, Butler! + +BUTLER. + +Be the whole world acquainted with the weakness +For which I never can forgive myself. +Lieutenant-General! Yes; I have ambition. +Ne'er was I able to endure contempt. +It stung me to the quick, that birth and title +Should have more weight than merit has in the army. +I would fain not be meaner than my equal, +So in an evil hour I let myself +Be tempted to that measure. It was folly! +But yet so hard a penance it deserved not. +It might have been refused; but wherefore barb +And venom the refusal with contempt? +Why dash to earth and crush with heaviest scorn +The gray-hair'd man, the faithful veteran? +Why to the baseness of his parentage +Refer him with such cruel roughness, only +Because he had a weak hour and forgot himself? +But nature gives a sting e'en to the worm +Which wanton Power treads on in sport and +insult. + +OCTAVIO. + +You must have been calumniated. Guess you +The enemy who did you this ill service? + +BUTLER. + +Be't who it will--a most low-hearted scoundrel! +Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard, +Some young squire of some ancient family, +In whose light I may stand; some envious knave, +Stung to his soul by my fair self-earn'd honors! + +OCTAVIO. + +But tell me, did the Duke approve that measure? + +BUTLER. + +Himself impell'd me to it, used his interest +In my behalf with all the warmth of friendship. + +OCTAVIO. + +Ay? are you sure of that? + +BUTLER. + + I read the letter. + +OCTAVIO. + +And so did I--but the contents were different. +[BUTLER _is suddenly struck_.] + +By chance I'm in possession of that letter-- +Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you. + + [_He gives him the letter_.] + +BUTLER. + +Ha! what is this? + +OCTAVIO. + + I fear me, Colonel Butler, +An infamous game have they been playing with you. +The Duke, you say, impell'd you to this measure? +Now, in this letter, talks he in contempt +Concerning you; counsels the minister +To give sound chastisement to your conceit, +For so he calls it. + +[BUTLER _reads through the letter; his knees tremble, he +seizes a chair, and sinks down in it_.] + +You have no enemy, no persecutor; +There's no one wishes ill to you. Ascribe +The insult you received to the Duke only. +His aim is clear and palpable. He wish'd +To tear you from your Emperor: he hoped +To gain from your revenge what he well knew +(What your long-tried fidelity convinced him) +He ne'er could dare expect from your calm reason. +A blind tool would he make you, in contempt +Use you, as means of most abandoned ends. +He has gained his point. Too well has he succeeded +In luring you away from that good path +On which you had been journeying forty years! + +BUTLER _(his voice trembling)_. + +Can e'er the Emperor's Majesty forgive me? + +OCTAVIO. + +More than forgive you. He would fain compensate +For that affront, and most unmerited grievance +Sustain'd by a deserving gallant veteran. +From his free impulse he confirms the present, +Which the Duke made you for a wicked purpose. +The regiment, which you now command, is yours. + +[BUTLER attempts to rise, sinks down again. He labors +inwardly with violent emotions; tries to speak, and cannot. +At length he takes his sword from the belt, and offers it to +PICCOLOMINI.] + +OCTAVIO. + +What wish you? Recollect yourself, friend. + +BUTLER. + + Take it. + +OCTAVIO. + +But to what purpose? Calm yourself. + +BUTLER. + + O take it! +I am no longer worthy of this sword. + +OCTAVIO. + +Receive it then anew, from my hands--and +Wear it with honor for the right cause ever. + +BUTLER. + +Perjure myself to such a gracious Sovereign! + +OCTAVIO. + +You'll make amends. Quick! break off from the Duke! + +BUTLER. + +Break off from him! + +OCTAVIO. + + What now? Bethink thyself. + +BUTLER (_no longer governing his emotion_). + +Only break off from him? He dies! he dies! + +OCTAVIO. + +Come after me to Frauenburg, where now +All who are loyal are assembling under +Counts Altringer and Gallas. Many others +I've brought to a remembrance of their duty: +This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen. + +BUTLER (_strides up and down in excessive agitation, then +steps up to_ OCTAVIO _with resolved countenance_). + +Count Piccolomini! dare that man speak +Of honor to you, who once broke his troth. + +OCTAVIO. + +He, who repents so deeply of it, dares. + +BUTLER. + +Then leave me here upon my word of honor! + +OCTAVIO. + +What's your design? + +BUTLER. + + Leave me and my regiment. + +OCTAVIO. + +I have full confidence in you. But tell me +What are you brooding? + +BUTLER. + +That the deed will tell you. +Ask me no more at present. Trust to me. +Ye may trust safely. By the living God +Ye give him over, not to his good angel! +Farewell. + + [_Exit_ BUTLER.] + +SERVANT (_enters with a billet_). + + A stranger left it, and is gone. +The Prince Duke's horses wait for you below. + + [_Exit_ SERVANT.] + +OCTAVIO (_reads_). + +"Be sure make haste! Your faithful Isolan." +--O that I had but left this town behind me. +To split upon a rock so near the haven!--Away! +This is no longer a safe place +For me! Where can my son be tarrying! + + +SCENE VII + +OCTAVIO and MAX PICCOLOWINI + +[MAX _enters almost in a state of derangement, from extreme +agitation; his eyes roll wildly, his walk is_ _unsteady, +and he appears not to observe his father, who stands at a +distance, and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of +compassion. He paces with long strides through the chamber, +then stands still again, and at last throws himself into a +chair, staring vacantly at the object directly before him_.] + + +OCTAVIO (_advances to him_). + + I am going off, my son. + + [_Receiving no answer, he takes his hand_.] + + My son, farewell. + +MAX. + +Farewell. + +OCTAVIO. + + Thou wilt soon follow me? + +MAX. + + I follow thee? +Thy way is crooked--it is not my way. + +[OCTAVIO _drops his hand, and starts back_.] + +O, hadst thou been but simple and sincere, +Ne'er had it come to this--all had stood otherwise. +He had not done that foul and horrible deed, +The virtuous had retain'd their influence o'er him: +He had not fallen into the snares of villains. +Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice +Didst creep behind him, lurking for thy prey! +O, unblest falsehood! Mother of all evil! +Thou misery-making demon, it is thou +That sink'st us in perdition. Simple truth, +Sustainer of the world, have saved us all! +Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee! +Wallenstein has deceived me--O, most foully! +But thou hast acted not much better. + +OCTAVIO. + + Son! +My son, ah! I forgive thy agony! + +MAX. (_rises and contemplates his father with looks of +suspicion_). + +Was't possible? hadst thou the heart, my father, +Hadst thou the heart to drive it to such lengths, +With cold premeditated purpose? Thou-- +Hadst thou the heart to wish to see him guilty +Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall. +Octavio, 'twill not please me. + +OCTAVIO. + + God in heaven! + +MAX. + +O, woe is me! sure I have changed my nature. +How comes suspicion here--in the free soul? +Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all +Lied to me, all that I e'er loved or honored. +No, no! not all! She--she yet lives for me, +And she is true, and open as the heavens! +Deceit is everywhere, hypocrisy, +Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury: +The single holy spot is our love, +The only unprofaned in human nature. + +OCTAVIO. + +Max!--we will go together. 'Twill be better. + +MAX. + +What? ere I've taken a last parting leave, +The very last--no, never! + +OCTAVIO. + + Spare thyself +The pang of necessary separation. +Come with me! Come, my son! + +[_Attempts to take him with him._] + +MAX. + +No! as sure as God lives, no! + +OCTAVIO (_more urgently_). + +Come with me, I command thee! I, thy father. + +MAX. + +Command me what is human. I stay here. + +OCTAVIO. + +Max! in the Emperor's name I bid thee come. + +MAX. + +No Emperor has power to prescribe +Laws to the heart; and wouldst thou wish to rob me +Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me, +Her sympathy? Must then a cruel deed +Be done with cruelty? The unalterable +Shall I perform ignobly--steal away, +With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No! +She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish, +Hear the complaints of the disparted soul, +And weep tears o'er me. Oh! the human race +Have steely souls--but she is as an angel. +From the black deadly madness of despair +Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words +Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death! + +OCTAVIO. + +Thou wilt not tear thyself away; thou canst not. +O, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue. + +MAX. + +Squander not thou thy words in vain. +The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it. + +OCTAVIO (_trembling, and losing all self command_). + +Max! Max! if that most damned thing could be, +If thou--my son--my own blood--dare I _think_ it? +Do sell thyself to him, the infamous, +Do stamp this brand upon our noble house, +Then shall the world behold the horrible deed +And in unnatural combat shall the steel +Of the son trickle with the father's blood. + +MAX. + +O hadst thou always better thought of men +Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion, +Unholy, miserable doubt! To him +Nothing on earth remains unwrench'd and firm, +Who has no faith. + +OCTAVIO. + + And if I trust thy heart, +Will it be always in thy power to follow it? + +MAX. + +The heart's voice _thou_ hast not o'erpowered--as little +Will Wallenstein be able to o'erpower it. + +OCTAVIO. + +O, Max! I see thee never more again! + +MAX. + +Unworthy of thee wilt thou never see me. + +OCTAVIO. + +I go to Frauenburg--the Pappenheimers +I leave thee here, the Lothrings too; Tsokans +And Tiefenbach remain here to protect thee. +They love thee, and are faithful to their oath, +And will far rather fall in gallant contest +Than leave their rightful leader, and their honor. + +MAX. + +Rely on this, I either leave my life +In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen. + +OCTAVIO. + +Farewell, my son! + +MAX. + + Farewell! + +OCTAVIO. + + How! not one look +Of filial love? No grasp of the hand at parting? +It is a bloody war to which we are going, +And the event uncertain and in darkness. +So used we not to part--it was not so! +Is it then true? I have a son no longer? + + +[MAX _falls into his arms, they hold each other for a long +time in a speechless embrace, then go away at different +sides_.] + +[_The Curtain drops_.] + + * * * * * + + + +ACT III + + +SCENE I + +_A Chamber in the House of the Duchess of Friedland_ + +COUNTESS TERZKY, THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN (_the two latter sit +at the same table at work_) + + +COUNTESS (_watching them from the opposite side_). + +So you have nothing to ask me--nothing? +I have been waiting for a word from you. +And could you then endure in all this time +Not once to speak his name? + +[THEKLA _remaining silent, the_ COUNTESS _rises and advances +to her_.] + + Why, how comes this! +Perhaps I am already grown superfluous, +And other ways exist, besides through me? +Confess it to me, Thekla: have you seen him? + +THEKLA. + +Today and yesterday I have not seen him. + +COUNTESS. + +And not heard from him, either? Come, be open. + +THEKLA. + +No syllable. + +COUNTESS. + + And still you are so calm? + +THEKLA. + +I am. + +COUNTESS. + +May 't please you, leave us, Lady Neubrunn. + [_Exit_ LADY NEUBRUNN.] + + +SCENE II + +_The_ COUNTESS, THEKLA + +COUNTESS. + +It does not please me, Princess, that he holds +Himself so _still_, exactly at _this_ time. + +THEKLA. + +Exactly at _this_ time? + +COUNTESS. + + He now knows all: +'Twere now the moment to declare himself. + +THEKLA. + +If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly. + +COUNTESS. + +'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us. +Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart +Is now no more in nonage: for you love, +And boldness dwells with love--that _you_ have proved +Your nature molds itself upon your father's +More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you +Hear, what were too much for her fortitude. + +THEKLA. + +Enough: no further preface, I entreat you. +At once, out with it! Be it what it may, +It is not possible that it should torture me +More than this introduction. What have you +To say to me? Tell me the whole, and briefly! + +COUNTESS. + +You'll not be frighten'd-- + +THEKLA. + + Name it, I entreat you. + +COUNTESS. + +It lies within your power to do your father +A weighty service-- + +THEKLA. + + Lies within _my_ power? + +COUNTESS. + +Max Piccolomini loves you. You can link him +Indissolubly to your father. + +THEKLA. + + I? +What need of me for that? And is he not +Already link'd to him? + +COUNTESS. + + He was. + +THEKLA. + + And wherefore +Should he not be so now--not be so always? + +COUNTESS. + +He cleaves to the Emperor too. + +THEKLA. + + Not more than duty +And honor may demand of him. + +COUNTESS. + + We ask +Proofs of his love, and not proofs of his honor. +Duty and honor! +Those are ambiguous words with many meanings. +_You_ should interpret them for him: his love +Should be the sole definer of his honor. + +THEKLA. + +How? + +COUNTESS. + +The Emperor or you must he renounce. + +THEKLA. + +He will accompany my father gladly +In his retirement. From himself you heard, +How much he wish'd to lay aside the sword. + +COUNTESS. + +He must _not_ lay the sword aside, we mean; +He must unsheath it in your father's cause. + +THEKLA. + +He'll spend with gladness and alacrity +His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause, +If shame or injury be intended him. + +COUNTESS. + +You will not understand me. Well, hear then:-- +Your father has fallen off from the Emperor, +And is about to join the enemy +With the whole soldiery-- + +THEKLA. + +Alas, my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +There needs a great example to draw on +The army after him. The Piccolomini +Possess the love and reverence of the troops; +They govern all opinions, and wherever +They lead the way none hesitate to follow. +The son secures the father to our interests-- +You've much in your hands at this moment. + +THEKLA. + +Ah! +My miserable mother! what a death-stroke +Awaits thee!--No! she never will survive it. + +COUNTESS. + +She will accommodate her soul to that +Which is and must be. I do know your mother; +The far-off future weighs upon her heart +With torture of anxiety; but is it +Unalterably, actually present, +She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly. + +THEKLA. + +O my foreboding bosom! Even now, +E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror! +And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp; +I knew it well--no sooner had I enter'd, +An heavy ominous presentiment +Reveal'd to me that spirits of death were hovering +Over my happy fortune. But why think I +First of myself? My mother! O my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +Calm yourself! Break not out in vain lamenting! +Preserve you for your father the firm friend, +And for yourself the lover, all will yet +Prove good and fortunate. + +THEKLA. + + Prove good! What good? +Must we not part?--part ne'er to meet again? + +COUNTESS. + +He parts not from you! He cannot part from you. + +THEKLA. + +Alas for his sore anguish! It will rend +His heart asunder. + +COUNTESS. + + If indeed he loves you, +His resolution will be speedily taken. + +THEKLA. + +His resolution will be speedily taken-- +O do not doubt of that! A resolution! +Does there remain one to be taken? + +COUNTESS. + + Hush, +Collect yourself! I hear your mother coming. + +THEKLA. + +How shall I bear to see her? + +COUNTESS. + + Collect yourself. + + +SCENE III + +_To them enter the DUCHESS_ + + +DUCHESS (_to the COUNTESS_). + +Who was here, sister? I heard someone talking, +And passionately too. + +COUNTESS. + + Nay! there was no one. + +DUCHESS. + +I am grown so timorous, every trifling noise +Scatters my spirits, and announces to me +The footstep of some messenger of evil. +And you can tell me, sister, what the event is? +Will he agree to do the Emperor's pleasure, +And send the horse-regiments to the Cardinal? +Tell me, has he dismiss'd Von Questenberg +With a favorable answer? + +COUNTESS. + + No, he has not. + +DUCHESS. + +Alas! then all is lost! I see it coming, +The worst that can come! Yes, they will depose him; +The accursed business of the Regensburg diet +Will all be acted o'er again! + +COUNTESS. + + No! never! +Make your heart easy, sister, as to that. + +[THEKLA, _in extreme agitation, throws herself upon her +mother, and enfolds her in her arms, weeping_.] + + +DUCHESS. + +Yes, my poor child! +Thou too hast lost a most affectionate godmother +In the Empress. O that stern unbending man! +In this unhappy marriage what have I +Not suffer'd, not endured? For even as if +I had been link'd on to some wheel of fire +That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onward, +I have pass'd a life of frights and horrors with him, +And ever to the brink of some abyss +With dizzy headlong violence he bears me. +Nay, do not weep, my child. Let not my sufferings +Presignify unhappiness to thee, +Nor blacken with their shade the fate that waits thee. +There lives no second Friedland: thou, my child, +Hast not to fear thy mother's destiny. + +THEKLA. + +O let us supplicate him, dearest mother! +Quick! quick! here's no abiding place for us. +Here every coming hour broods into life +Some new affrightful monster. + +DUCHESS. + + Thou wilt share +An easier, calmer lot, my child! We too, +I and thy father, witnessed happy days. +Still think I with delight of those first years, +When he was making progress with glad effort, +When his ambition was a genial fire, +Not that consuming flame which now it is. +The Emperor loved him, trusted him: and all +He undertook could not but be successful. +But since that ill-starr'd day at Regensburg, +Which plunged him headlong from his dignity, +A gloomy uncompanionable spirit, +Unsteady and suspicious, has possess'd him. +His quiet mind forsook him, and no longer +Did he yield up himself in joy and faith +To his old luck and individual power; +But thenceforth turn'd his heart and best affections +All to those cloudy sciences, which never +Have yet made happy him who follow'd them. + +COUNTESS. + +You see it, sister, as your eyes permit you, +But surely this is not the conversation +To pass the time in which we are waiting for him. +You know he will be soon here. Would you have him +Find _her_ in this condition? + +DUCHESS. + + Come, my child! +Come wipe away thy tears, and show thy father +A cheerful countenance. See, the tie-knot here +Is off--this hair must not hang so dishevell'd. +Come, dearest! dry thy tears up. They deform +Thy gentle eye.--Well now--what was I saying? +Yes, in good truth, this Piccolomini +Is a most noble and deserving gentleman. + +COUNTESS. + +That is he, sister! + +THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS, _with marks of great oppression +of spirits_). + + Aunt, you will excuse me? + + [_Is going_.] + +COUNTESS. + +But whither? See, your father comes. + +THEKLA. + +I cannot see him now. + +COUNTESS. + + Nay, but bethink you. + +THEKLA. + +Believe me, I cannot sustain his presence. + +COUNTESS. + +But he will miss you, will ask after you. + +DUCHESS. + +What now? Why is she going? + +COUNTESS. + + She's not well. + +DUCHESS (_anxiously_). + +What ails then my beloved child? + + +[_Both follow the_ PRINCESS, _and endeavor to detain her. +During this_ WALLENSTEIN _appears, engaged in conversation +with_ ILLO.] + + +SCENE IV + +WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA + + +WALLENST. + +All quiet in the camp? + +ILLO. + + It is all quiet. + +WALLENST. + +In a few hours may couriers come from Prague +With tidings that this capital is ours. +Then we may drop the mask, and to the troops +Assembled in this town make known the measure +And its result together. In such cases +Example does the whole. Whoever is foremost +Still leads the herd. An imitative creature +Is man. The troops at Prague conceive no other +Than that the Pilsen army has gone through +The forms of homage to us; and in Pilsen +They shall swear fealty to us, because +The example has been given them by Prague. +Butler, you tell me, has declared himself? + +ILLO. + +At his own bidding, unsolicited, +He came to offer you himself and regiment. + +WALLENST. + +I find we must not give implicit credence +To every warning voice that makes itself +Be listen'd to in the heart. To hold us back, +Oft does the lying Spirit counterfeit +The voice of Truth and inward Revelation, +Scattering false oracles. And thus have I +To entreat forgiveness, for that secretly +I've wrong'd this honorable, gallant man, +This Butler: for a feeling, of the which +I am not master (_fear_ I would not call it), +Creeps o'er me instantly, with sense of shuddering +At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion. +And this same man, against whom I am warn'd, +This honest man is he, who reaches to me +The first pledge of my fortune. + +ILLO. + + And doubt not +That his example will win over to you +The best men in the army. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Go and send +Isolani hither. Send him immediately; +He is under recent obligations to me: +With him will I commence the trial. Go. + + [_Exit_ ILLO.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_turns himself round to the females_). + +Lo, there the mother with the darling daughter +For once we'll have an interval of rest--Come! +my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour +In the beloved circle of my family. + +COUNTESS. + +'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS _aside_). + +Can she sustain the news? Is she prepared? + +COUNTESS. + +Not yet. + +WALLENST. + + Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me. +For there is a good spirit on thy lips. +Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill; +She says a voice of melody dwells in thee, +Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice +Will drive away from me the evil demon +That beats his black wings close above my head. + +DUCHESS. + +Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father +Hear some small trial of thy skill. + +THEKLA. + + My mother! +I-- + +DUCHESS. + +Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer +father. + +THEKLA. + +O my mother! I--I cannot. + +COUNTESS. + +How, what is that, niece? + +THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS). + +O spare me--sing--now--in this sore anxiety, +Of the o'erburthen'd soul--to sing to _him_, +Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong +Into her grave. + +DUCHESS. + +How, Thekla! Humorsome! +What! shall thy father have express'd a wish +In vain? + +COUNTESS. + +Here is the lute. + +THEKLA. + +My God! how can I-- + +[_The orchestra plays. During the ritornello_ THEKLA +_expresses in her gestures and countenance the struggle of +her feelings; and at the moment that she should begin to +sing, contracts herself together, as one shuddering, throws +the instrument down, and retires abruptly_.] + +DUCHESS. My child! O she is ill-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What ails the maiden? +Say, is she often so? + +COUNTESS. + + Since then herself +Has now betray'd it, I too must no longer +Conceal it. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +What? + +COUNTESS. + + She loves him! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Loves him! Whom? + +COUNTESS. + +Max does she love! Max Piccolomini. +Hast thou ne'er noticed it? Nor yet my sister? + +DUCHESS. + +Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart? +God's blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou need'st +Never take shame upon thee for thy choice. + +COUNTESS. + +This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it +To thine own self. Thou shouldst have chosen another +To have attended her. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + And does he know it? + +COUNTESS. + +Yes, and he hopes to win her! + +WALLENSTEIN. Hopes to win her! +Is the boy mad? + +COUNTESS. + + Well--hear it from themselves. + +WALLENST. + +He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland's daughter! +Ay?--The thought pleases me. +The young man has no groveling spirit. + +COUNTESS. + + Since +Such and such constant favor you have shown him-- + +WALLENST. + +He chooses finally to be my heir. +And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honor him. +But must he therefore be my daughter's husband? +Is it daughters only? Is it only children +That we must show our favor by? + +DUCHESS. + +His noble disposition and his manners-- + +WALLENST. + +Win him my heart, but not my daughter. + +DUCHESS. + + Then +His rank, his ancestors-- + +WALLENSTETN. + + Ancestors! What? +He is a subject, and my son-in-law +I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe. + +DUCHESS. + +O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high +Lest we should fall too low. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What! have I paid +A price so heavy to ascend this eminence, +And jut out high above the common herd, +Only to close the mighty part I play +In Life's great drama, with a common kinsman? +Have I for this-- + +[_Stops suddenly, repressing himself_.] + + She is the only thing +That will remain behind of me on earth; +And I will see a crown around her head, +Or die in the attempt to place it there. +I hazard all--all! and for this alone, +To lift her into greatness--Yea, +in this moment, in the which we are +speaking-- + +[_He recollects himself_.] + +And I must now, like a soft-hearted father, +Couple together in good peasant-fashion +The pair, that chance to suit each other's liking-- +And I must do it now, even now, when I +Am stretching out the wreath that is to twine +My full accomplish'd work--no! she is the jewel, +Which I have treasured long, my last, my noblest, +And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me +For less than a king's sceptre. + +DUCHESS. + + O my husband! +You're ever building, building to the clouds, +Still building higher, and still higher building, +And ne'er reflect that the poor narrow basis +Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS). + +Have you announced the place of residence +Which I have destined for her? + +COUNTESS. + + No! not yet. +'Twere better you yourself disclosed it to her. + +DUCHESS. + +How? Do we not return to Carinthia then? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + No. + +DUCHESS. + +And to no other of your lands or seats? + +WALLENST. + +You would not be secure there. + +DUCHESS. + + Not secure +In the Emperor's realms, beneath the Emperor's +Protection? + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Friedland's wife may be permitted +No longer to hope _that_. + +DUCHESS. + + O God in heaven! +And have you brought it even to this! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In Holland +You'll find protection. + +DUCHESS. + +In a Lutheran country? +What? And you send us into Lutheran countries? + +WALLENST. + + Duke Franz of Lauenburg conducts you thither. + +DUCHESS. + +Duke Franz of Lauenburg? +The ally of Sweden, the Emperor's enemy. + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor's enemies are mine no longer. + +DUCHESS (_casting a look of terror on the_ DUKE _and the_ +COUNTESS). + +Is it then true? It is. You are degraded-- +Deposed from the command! O God in heaven! + +COUNTESS (_aside to the_ DUKE). + +Leave her in this belief. Thou seest she cannot +Support the real truth. + + +SCENE V + + +_To them enter_ COUNT TERZKY. + +COUNTESS. + + --Terzky! +What ails him? What an image of affright! +He looks as he had seen a ghost. + +TERZKY (_leading_ WALLENSTEIN _aside_). + +Is it thy command that all the Croats-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Mine. + +TERZKY. + +We are betray'd. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What? + +TERZKY. + + They are off! This night +The Jgers likewise--all the villages +In the whole round are empty. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Isolani! + +TERZKY. + +Him thou hast sent away. Yes, surely. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I? + +TERZKY. + +No! Hast thou not sent him off? Nor Deodati? +They are vanish'd both of them. + + +SCENE VI + +_To them enter_ ILLO. + +ILLO. + +Has Terzky told thee? + +TERZKY. + + He knows all. + +ILLO. + + And likewise +That Esterhatzy, Goetz, Maradas, Kaunitz, +Kolalto, Palfi, have forsaken thee. + +TERZKY. + +Damnation! + +WALLENSTEIN (_winks at them_). + + Hush! + +COUNTESS (_who has been watching them anxiously from the +distance and now advances to them_). + +Terzky! Heaven! What is it? What has happen'd? + +WALLENSTEIN (_scarcely suppressing his emotions_). + +Nothing! let us be gone! + +TERZKY (_following him_). + + Theresa, it is nothing. + +COUNTESS (_holding him back_). + +Nothing? Do I not see that all the life-blood +Has left your cheeks--look you not like a ghost? +That even my brother but affects a calmness? + +PAGE (_enters_). + +An Aide-de-camp inquires for the Count Terzky. + + [TERZKY _follows the_ PAGE.] + +WALLENST. Go, hear his business. + + [_To_ ILLO.] + + This could not have happen'd +So unsuspected without mutiny. +Who was on guard at the gates? + +ILLO. + + 'Twas Tiefenbach. + +WALLENST. + +Let Tiefenbach leave guard without delay, +And Terzky's grenadiers relieve him. + + [ILLO _is going_.] + + Stop! +Hast thou heard aught of Butler? + +ILLO. + + Him I met; + +He will be here himself immediately. +Butler remains unshaken. + + [ILLO _exit_. WALLENSTEIN _is following him_.] + +COUNTESS. + +Let him not leave thee, sister! go, detain him! +There's some misfortune. + +DUCHESS (_clinging to him_). + +Gracious Heaven! What is it? + +WALLENST. + +Be tranquil! leave me, sister! dearest wife! +We are in camp, and this is nought unusual; +Here storm and sunshine follow one another +With rapid interchanges. These fierce spirits +Champ the curb angrily, and never yet +Did quiet bless the temples of the leader. +If I am to stay, go you. The plaints of women +Ill suit the scene where men must act. + + [_He is going_. TERZHY _returns_.] + +TERZHY. + +Remain here. From this window must we see it. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS). + + Sister, retire! + +COUNTESS. + + No--never. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +'Tis my will. + +TERZKY (_leads the_ COUNTESS _aside, and drawing her +attention to the_ DUCHESS). + +Theresa? + +DUCHESS. + + Sister, come! since he commands it. + + +SCENE VII + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY + + +WALLENSTEIN (_stepping to the window_). + +What now, then? + +TERZKY. + +There are strange movements among all the troops, +And no one knows the cause. Mysteriously, +With gloomy silentness, the several corps +Marshal themselves, each under its own banners. +Tiefenbach's corps make threat'ning movements; only +The Pappenheimers still remain aloof +In their own quarters, and let no one enter. + +WALLENST. + +Does Piccolomini appear among them? + +TERZKY. + +We are seeking him: he is nowhere to be met with. + +WALLENST. + +What did the Aide-de-camp deliver to you? + +TERZKY. + +My regiments had dispatch'd him; yet once more +They swear fidelity to thee, and wait +The shout for onset, all prepared, and eager. + +WALLENST. + +But whence arose this larum in the camp? +It should have been kept secret from the army, +Till fortune had decided for us at Prague. + +TERZKY. + +O that thou hadst believed me! Yester evening +Did we conjure thee not to let that skulker, +That fox, Octavio, pass the gates of Pilsen. +Thou gavest him thy own horses to flee from thee. + +WALLENST. + +The old tune still! Now, once for all, no more +Of this suspicion--it is doting folly. + +TERZKY. + +Thou didst confide in Isolani too; +And lo! he was the first that did desert thee. + +WALLENST. + +It was but yesterday I rescued him +From abject wretchedness. Let that go by; +I never reckon'd yet on gratitude. +And wherein doth he wrong in going from me? +He follows still the god whom all his life +He has worship'd at the gaming-table. With +My fortune, and my seeming destiny, +He made the bond, and broke it not with me. +I am but the ship in which his hopes were stow'd +And with the which, well-pleased and confident, +He traversed the open sea; now he beholds it +In eminent jeopardy among the coast-rocks, +And hurries to preserve his wares. As light +As the free bird from the hospitable twig +Where it had nested, he flies off from me: +No human tie is snapp'd betwixt us two. +Yea, he deserves to find himself deceived +Who seeks a heart in the unthinking man. +Like shadows on a stream, the forms of life +Impress their characters on the smooth forehead, +Nought sinks into the bosom's silent depth; +Quick sensibility of pain and pleasure +Moves the light fluids lightly; but no soul +Warmeth the inner frame. + +TERZKY. + + Yet, would I rather +Trust the smooth brow than that deep furrow'd one. + + +SCENE VIII + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, ILLO + + +ILLO (_who enters agitated with rage_). + +Treason and mutiny! + +TERZKY. + + And what further now? + +ILLO. + +Tiefenbach's soldiers, when I gave the orders, +To go off guard--Mutinous villains! + +TERZKY. + + Well! + +WALLENST. + +What followed? + +ILLO. + + They refused obedience to them. + +TERZKY. + +Fire on them instantly! Give out the order. + +WALLENST. + +Gently! what cause did they assign? + +ILLO. + + No other, +They said, had right to issue orders but +Lieutenant-General _Piccolomini_. + +WALLENSTEIN (_in a convulsion of agony_). + +What? How is that? + +ILLO. + +He takes that office on him by commission, +Under sign-manual of the Emperor. + +TERZKY. + +From the Emperor--hear'st thou, Duke? + +ILLO. + + At his incitement +The Generals made that stealthy flight-- + +TERZKY. + + Duke! hear'st thou? + +ILLO. + +Caraffa too, and Montecuculi, +Are missing, with six other generals, +All whom he had induced to follow him. +This plot he has long had in writing by him +From the Emperor; but 'twas finally concluded, +With all the detail of the operation, +Some days ago with the Envoy Questenberg. + +[WALLENSTEIN _sinks down into a chair and covers his face_.] + +TERZKY. + +O hadst thou but believed me! + + +SCENE IX + +_To them enter the_ COUNTESS + + +COUNTESS. + + This suspense, +This horrid fear--I can no longer bear it. +For heaven's sake tell me what has taken place? + +ILLO. + +The regiments are all falling off from us. + +TERZKY. + +Octavio Piccolomini is a traitor. + +COUNTESS. + +O my foreboding! [_Rushes out of the room_.] + +TERZKY. + + Hadst thou but believed me! +Now seest thou how the stars have lied to thee. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN HEARS OF OCTAVIO'S TREASON As +performed at the Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + +WALLENST. + +The stars lie not; but we have here a work +Wrought counter to the stars and destiny. +The science is still honest: this false heart +Forces a lie on the truth-telling heaven. +On a divine law divination rests; +Where nature deviates from that law, and stumbles +Out of her limits, there all science errs. +True I did not suspect! Were it superstition +Never by such suspicion t' have affronted +The human form, O may that time ne'er come +In which I shame me of the infirmity. +The wildest savage drinks not with the victim, +Into whose breast he means to plunge the sword. +This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed: +'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine; +A bad heart triumph'd o'er an honest one. +No shield received the assassin stroke; thou plungest +Thy weapon on an unprotected breast-- +Against such weapons I am but a child. + + + +SCENE X + +_To these enter_ BUTLER + + +TERZKY (_meeting him_). + +O look there! Butler! Here we've still a friend! + +WALLENSTEIN (_meets him with outspread arms, and embraces +him with warmth_). + +Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun +Looks out upon us more revivingly +In the earliest month of spring, +Than a friend's countenance in such an hour. + +BUTLER. + +My General: I come-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_leaning on_ BUTLER's _shoulder_). + + Know'st thou already? +That old man has betray'd me to the Emperor. +What say'st thou? Thirty years have we together +Lived out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship. +We have slept in one camp-bed, drunk from one glass, +One morsel shared! I lean'd myself on _him_, +As now I lean me on _thy_ faithful shoulder. +And now in the very moment, when, all love, +All confidence, my bosom beat to his, +He sees and takes the advantage, stabs the knife +Slowly into my heart. + + [_He hides his face on_ BUTLER'S _breast_.] + +BUTLER. + + Forget the false one. +What is your present purpose? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well remember'd! +Courage, my soul! I am still rich in friends, +Still loved by Destiny; for in the moment +That it unmasks the plotting hypocrite, +It sends and proves to me one faithful heart. +Of the hypocrite no more! Think not his loss +Was that which struck the pang: O no! his treason +Is that which strikes this pang! No more of him! +Dear to my heart and honor'd were they both, +And the young man--yes--he did truly love me, +He--he--has not deceived me. But enough, +Enough of this--swift counsel now beseems us. +The Courier, whom Count Kinsky sent from Prague, +I expect him every moment: and whatever +He may bring with him, we must take good care +To keep it from the mutineers. Quick then! +Dispatch some messenger you can rely on +To meet him and conduct him to me. + + [ILLO _is going_.] + +BUTLER (_detaining him_). + +My General, whom expect you then? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + The Courier +Who brings me word of the event at Prague. + +BUTLER (_hesitating_). + +Hem! + +WALLENST. + + And what now? + +BUTLER. + + You do not know it? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well? + +BUTLER. + +From what that larum in the camp arose? + +WALLENST. + +From what? + +BUTLER. + +That Courier-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_with eager expectation_). + + Well? + +BUTLER. + + Is already here. + +TERZKY and ILLO (_at the same time_). + +Already here? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + My Courier? + +BUTLER. + + For some hours. + +WALLENST. + +And I not know it? + +BUTLER. + + The sentinels detained him +In custody. + +ILLO (_stamping with his foot_). + Damnation! + +BUTLER. + + And his letter +Was broken open, and is circulated +Through the whole camp. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + You know what it contains? + +BUTLER. + +Question me not! + +TERZKY. + + Illo, alas for us! + +WALLENST. + +Hide nothing from me--I can hear the worst. +Prague then is lost? It is! Confess it freely. + +BUTLER. + +Yes! Prague is lost. And all the several regiments +At Budweiss, Tabor, Braunau, Knigingratz, +At Brunn and Zanaym, have forsaken you, +And ta'en oaths of fealty anew +To the Emperor. Yourself, with Kinsky, Terzky, +And Illo have been sentenced. + +[TERZKY _and_ ILLO _express alarm and fury_. WALLENSTEIN +_remains firm and collected_.] + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis decided! +'Tis well! I have received a sudden cure +From all the pangs of doubt: with steady stream +Once more my life-blood flows! My soul's secure! +In the night only Friedland's stars can beam. +Lingering irresolute, with fitful fears +I drew the sword--'twas with an inward strife, +While yet the choice was mine. The murderous knife +Is lifted for my heart! Doubt disappears! +I fight now for my head and for my life. + + [_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; _the others follow him_.] + + +SCENE XI + + +COUNTESS TERZKY (_enters from a side room_). + +I can endure no longer. No! + + [_Looks around her_.] + + Where are they! +No one is here. They leave me all alone, +Alone in this sore anguish of suspense. +And I must wear the outward show of calmness +Before my sister, and shut in within me +The pangs and agonies of my crowded bosom. +It is not to be borne. If all should fail; +If--if he must go over to the Swedes, +An empty-handed fugitive, and not +As an ally, a covenanted equal, +A proud commander with his army following, +If we must wander on from land to land, +Like the Count Palatine, of fallen greatness +An ignominious monument! But no! +That day I will not see! And could himself +Endure to sink so low, I would not bear +To see him so low sunken. + + +SCENE XII + + +COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA + +THEKLA (_endeavoring to hold back the_ DUCHESS). + +Dear mother, do stay here! + +DUCHESS. + + No! Here is yet +Some frightful mystery that is hidden from me. +Why does my sister shun me? Don't I see her +Full of suspense and anguish roam about +From room to room? Art thou not full of terror? +And what import these silent nods and gestures +Which stealthwise thou exchangest with her? + +THEKLA. + + Nothing: +Nothing, dear mother! + +DUCHESS (_to the_ COUNTESS). + + Sister, I will know. + +COUNTESS. + +What boots it now to hide it from her? Sooner +Or later she _must_ learn to hear and bear it. +'Tis not the time now to indulge infirmity; +Courage beseems us now, a heart collect, +And exercise and previous discipline +Of fortitude. One word, and over with it! +Sister, you are deluded. You believe +The Duke has been deposed--the Duke is not +Deposed--he is-- + +THEKLA (_going to the_ COUNTESS). + + What? do you wish to kill her? + +COUNTESS. + +The Duke is-- + +THEKLA (_throwing her arms round her mother_). + + O stand firm; stand firm, my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +Revolted is the Duke; he is preparing +To join the enemy; the army leave him, +And all has fail'd. + + +SCENE XIII + + +A spacious Room in the Duke of Friedland's Palace. + + +WALLENSTEIN (_in armor_). + +Thou hast gain'd thy point, Octavio! Once more am I +Almost as friendless as at Regensburg. +There I had nothing left me, but myself; +But what one man can do, you have now experience. +The twigs have you hew'd off, and here I stand +A leafless trunk. But in the sap within +Lives the creating power, and a new world +May sprout forth from it. Once already have I +Proved myself worth an army to you--I alone! +Before the Swedish strength your troops had melted; +Beside the Lech sank Tilly your last hope; +Into Bavaria like a winter torrent, +Did that Gustavus pour, and at Vienna +In his own palace did the Emperor tremble. +Soldiers were scarce, for still the multitude +Follow the luck: all eyes were turn'd on me, +Their helper in distress: the Emperor's pride +Bow'd itself down before the man he had injured. +'Twas I must rise, and with creative word +Assemble forces in the desolate camps. +I did it. Like a god of war, my name +Went through the world. The drum was beat; and, lo, +The plough, the workshop is forsaken, all +Swarm to the old familiar long-loved banners; +And as the wood-choir rich in melody +Assemble quick around the bird of wonder, +When first his throat swells with his magic song, +So did the warlike youth of Germany +Crowd in around the image of my eagle. +I feel myself the being that I was. +It is the soul that builds itself a body, +And Friedland's camp will not remain unfill'd. +Lead then your thousands out to meet me--true! +They are accustom'd under me to conquer, +But not against me. If the head and limbs +Separate from each other, 'twill be soon +Made manifest in which the soul abode. + + (ILLO _and_ TERZKY _enter_) + +Courage, friends! courage! we are still unvanquish'd! +I feel my footing firm; five regiments, Terzky, +Are still our own, and Butler's gallant troops; +And an host of sixteen thousand Swedes to-morrow. +I was not stronger when, nine years ago, +I marched forth, with glad heart and high of hope, +To conquer Germany for the Emperor. + + +SCENE XIV + + +WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, TERZKY + +(_To them enter_ NEUMANN, _who leads_ TERZKY _aside and +talks with him_.) + +TERZKY. + +What do they want? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now! + +TERZKY. + + Ten Cuirassiers +From Pappenheim request leave to address you +In the name of the regiment. + +WALLENSTEIN (_hastily to_ NEUMANN). + +Let them enter. + + [_Exit_ NEUMANN.] + + This +May end in something. Mark you. They are still +Doubtful, and may be won. + + +SCENE XV + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZBY, ILLO, _ten_ Cuirassiers (_led by an_ +ANSPESSADE,[27] _march up and arrange themselves, after the +word of command, in one front before the Duke, and make +their obeisance. He takes his hat off and immediately covers +himself again_). + +ANSPESS. + +Halt! Front! Present! + +WALLENSTEIN (_after he has run through them with his eye, +to the_ ANSPESSADE). + +I know thee well. Thou art out of Brggen in Flanders. +Thy name is Mercy. + +ANSPESS. + + Henry Mercy. + +WALLENST. + +Thou wert cut off on the march, surrounded by +the Hessians, and didst fight thy way with +an hundred and eighty men through their +thousand. + +ANSPESS. + +'Twas even so, General! + +WALLENST. + + What reward hadst thou for this gallant exploit? + +ANSPESS. + +That which I asked for: the honor to serve in +this corps. + +WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a second_). + +Thou wert among the volunteers that seized and +made booty of the Swedish battery at Altenburg. + +2D CUIRAS. + +Yes, General. + +WALLENST. + +I forget no one with whom I have exchanged +words. + + (_A pause_.) + + Who sends you? + +ANSPESS. + +Your noble regiment, the Cuirassiers of Piccolomini. + +WALLENST. + +Why does not your colonel deliver in your request, +according to the custom of service? + +ANSPESS. + +Because we would first know _whom_ we serve. + +WALLENST. + +Begin your address. + +ANSPESSADE (_giving the word of command_). + +Shoulder your arms! + +WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a third_). + +Thy name is Risbeck; Cologne is thy birth-place. + +3D CUIRAS. + +Risbeck of Cologne. + +WALLENST. + +It was thou that broughtest in the Swedish colonel, +Dbald, prisoner, in the camp at Nuremberg. + +3D CUIRAS. + +It was not I, General. + +WALLENST. + +Perfectly right! It was thy elder brother: thou +hadst a younger brother too: Where did he +stay? + +3D CUIRAS. + +He is stationed at Olmtz, with the Imperial +army. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ ANSPESSADE). + +Now then--begin. + +ANSPESS. + +There came to hand a letter from the Emperor +Commanding us-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_interrupting him_). + + Who chose you? + +ANSPESSADE. + + Every company +Drew its own man by lot. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Now to the business. + +ANSPESS. + +There came to hand a letter from the Emperor +Commanding us collectively, from thee +All duties of obedience to withdraw, +Because thou wert an enemy and traitor. + +WALLENST. + +And what did you determine? + +ANSPESSADE. + + All our comrades +At Braunau, Budweiss, Prague and Olmtz, have +Obey'd already; and the regiments here, +Tiefenbach and Toscano, instantly +Did follow their example. But--but we +Do not believe that thou art an enemy +And traitor to thy country, hold it merely +For lie and trick and a trumped-up Spanish story! + + [_With warmth_.] + +Thyself shalt tell us what thy purpose is, +For we have found thee still sincere and true: +No mouth shall interpose itself betwixt +The gallant General and the gallant troops. + +WALLENST. + +Therein I recognize my Pappenheimers. + +ANSPESS. + +And this proposal makes thy regiment to thee. +Is it thy purpose merely to preserve +In thine own hands this military sceptre, +Which so becomes thee, which the Emperor +Made over to thee by a covenant? +Is it thy purpose merely to remain +Supreme commander of the Austrian armies?-- +We will stand by thee, General! and guarantee +Thy honest rights against all opposition. +And should it chance that all the other regiments +Turn from thee, by ourselves will we stand forth +Thy faithful soldiers, and, as is our duty, +Far rather let ourselves be cut to pieces +Than suffer thee to fall. But if it be +As the Emperor's letter says, if it be true, +That thou in traitorous wise wilt lead us over +To the enemy, which God in heaven forbid! +Then we too will forsake thee, and obey +That letter-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Hear me, children! + +ANSPESSADE. + + Yes, or no! +There needs no other answer. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Yield attention. +You're men of sense, examine for yourselves; +Ye think, and do not follow with the herd +And therefore have I always shown you honor +Above all others, suffer'd you to reason; +Have treated you as free men, and my orders +Were but the echoes of your prior suffrage.-- + +ANSPESS. + +Most fair and noble has thy conduct been +To us, my General! With thy confidence +Thou hast honor'd us, and shown us grace and favor +Beyond all other regiments; and thou seest +We follow not the common herd. We will +Standby thee faithfully. Speak but one word-- +Thy word shall satisfy us, that it is not +A treason which thou meditatest--that +Thou meanest not to lead the army over +To the enemy, nor e'er betray the country. + +WALLENST. + +Me, me are they betraying. The Emperor +Hath sacrificed me to my enemies, +And I must fall, unless my gallant troops +Will rescue me. See! I confide in you. +And be your hearts my stronghold! At this breast +The aim is taken, at this hoary head. +This is your Spanish gratitude, this is our +Requital for that murderous fight at Ltzen! +For this we threw the naked breast against +The halbert, made for this the frozen earth +Our bed, and the hard stone our pillow! never stream +Too rapid for us, nor wood too impervious; +With cheerful spirit we pursued that Mansfeldt +Through all the turns and windings of his flight: +Yea, our whole life was but one restless march: +And homeless, as the stirring wind, we travel'd +O'er the war-wasted earth. And now, even now, +That we have well-nigh finish'd the hard toil, +The unthankful, the curse-laden toil of weapons, +With faithful indefatigable arm +Have roll'd the heavy war-load up the hill, +Behold! this boy of the Emperor's bears away +The honors of the peace, an easy prize! +He'll weave, forsooth, into his flaxen locks +The olive branch, the hard-earn'd ornament +Of this gray head, grown gray beneath the helmet. + +ANSPESS. + +That shall he not, while we can hinder it! +No one, but thou, who hast conducted it +With fame, shall end this war, this frightful war. +Thou leddest us out to the bloody field +Of death; thou and no other shalt conduct us home, +Rejoicing, to the lovely plains of peace-- +Shalt share with us the fruits of the long toil-- + +WALLENST. + +What! Think you then at length in late old age +To enjoy the fruits of toil? Believe it not. +Never, no never, will you see the end +Of the contest! you and me, and all of us, +This war will swallow up! War, war, not peace, +Is Austria's wish; and therefore, because I +Endeavor'd after peace, therefore I fall, +For what cares Austria how long the war +Wears out the armies and lays waste the world! +She will but wax and grow amid the ruin +And still win new domains. + +[_The_ Cuirassiers _express agitation by their gestures_.] + + Ye're moved--I see +A noble rage flash from your eyes, ye warriors! +Oh that my spirit might possess you now +Daring as once it led you to the battle! +Ye would stand by me with your veteran arms, +Protect me in my rights; and this is noble! +But think not that _you_ can accomplish it, +Your scanty number! to no purpose will you +Have sacrificed you for your General. + + [_Confidentially_.] + +No! let us tread securely, seek for friends; +The Swedes have proffer'd us assistance, let us +Wear for a while the appearance of good will, +And use them for your profit, till we both +Carry the fate of Europe in our hands, +And from our camp to the glad jubilant world +Lead Peace forth with the garland on her head! + +ANSPESS. + +'Tis then but mere appearances which thou +Dost put on with the Swede! Thou'lt not betray +The Emperor? Wilt not turn us into Swedes? +This is the only thing which we desire +To learn from thee. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What care I for the Swedes? +I hate them as I hate the pit of hell, +And under Providence I trust right soon +To chase them to their homes across their Baltic. +My cares are only for the whole: I have +A heart--it bleeds within me for the miseries +And piteous groaning of my fellow Germans. +Ye are but common men, but yet ye think +With minds not common; ye appear to me +Worthy before all others that I whisper ye +A little word or two in confidence! +See now! already for full fifteen years, +The war-torch has continued burning, yet +No rest, no pause of conflict. Swede and German, +Papist and Lutheran! neither will give way +To the other, every hand's against the other. +Each one is party and no one a judge. +Where shall this end? Where's he that will unravel +This tangle, ever tangling more and more; +It must be cut asunder; +I feel that I am the man of destiny, +And trust, with your assistance, to accomplish it. + + +SCENE XVI + + +_To these enter_ BUTLER + +BUTLER (_passionately_). + +General! This is not right! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is not right? + +BUTLER. + +It must needs injure us with all honest men. + +WALLENST. + +But What? + +BUTLER. + + It is an open proclamation +Of insurrection. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well, well--but what is it? + +BUTLER. + +Count Terzky's regiments tear the Imperial Eagle +From off the banners, and instead of it +Have rear'd aloft their arms. + +ANSPESSADE (_abruptly to the_ Cuirassiers). + + Right about! March! + +WALLENST. + +Cursed be this counsel, and accursed who gave it! + + [_To the_ Cuirassiers, _who are retiring_.] + +Halt, children, halt! There's some mistake in this; +Hark!--I will punish it severely. Stop! +They do not hear. (_To_ ILLO.) Go after them, assure them, +And bring them back to me, cost what it may. + + [ILLO _hurries out_.] + +This hurls us headlong. Butler! Butler! +You are my evil genius! Wherefore must you +Announce it in their presence? It was all +In a fair way. They were half won! those madmen +With their improvident over-readiness-- +cruel game is Fortune playing with me. +The zeal of friends it is that razes me, +And not the hate of enemies. + + +SCENE XVII + + +_To these enter the_ DUCHESS, _who rushes into the Chamber_ +THEKLA _and the_ COUNTESS _follow her_. + +DUCHESS. + + O Albrecht! +What hast thou done? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + And now comes this beside. + +COUNTESS. + +Forgive me, brother! It was not in my power-- +They know all. + +DUCHESS. + + What hast thou done? + +COUNTESS (_to_ TERZKY). + +Is there no hope? Is all lost utterly? + +TERZKY. + +All lost. No hope. Prague in the Emperor's hands, +The soldiery have ta'en their oaths anew. + +COUNTESS. + +That lurking hypocrite, Octavio! +Count Max is off too. + +TERZKY. + + Where can he be? He's +Gone over to the Emperor with his father. + +[THEKLA _rushes out into the arms of her mother, hiding her +face in her bosom_.] + +DUCHESS (_enfolding her in her arms_). + +Unhappy child! and more unhappy mother! + +WALLENSTEIN (_aside to_ TERZKY). + +Quick! Let a carriage stand in readiness +In the court behind the palace. Scherfenberg +Be their attendant; he is faithful to us; +To Egra he'll conduct them, and we follow. + + [_To_ ILLO, _who returns_.] + +Thou hast not brought them back? + +ILLO. + + Hear'st thou the uproar? +The whole corps of the Pappenheimers is +Drawn out: the younger Piccolomini, +Their colonel, they require: for they affirm +That he is in the palace here, a prisoner; +And if thou dost not instantly deliver him, +They will find means to free him with the sword. + + [_All stand amazed_.] + +TERZKY. + +What shall we make of this? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Said I not so? +O my prophetic heart! he is still here. +He has not betray'd me--he could not betray me. +I never doubted of it. + +COUNTESS. + + If he be +Still here, then all goes well; for I know what + + [_Embracing_ THEKLA] + +Will keep him here forever. + +TERZKY. + + It can't be. +His father has betray'd us, is gone over +To the Emperor--the son could not have ventured +To stay behind. + +THEKLA (_her eyes fixed on the door_). + + There he is! + + +SCENE XVIII + + +_To these enter_ MAX PICCOLOMINI + +MAX. + +Yes! here he is! I can endure no longer +To creep on tiptoe round this house, and lurk +In ambush for a favorable moment: +This loitering, this suspense exceeds my powers. + +[_Advancing to_ THEKLA, _who has thrown herself into her +mother's arms_.] + +Turn not thine eyes away. O look upon me! +Confess it freely before all. Fear no one. +Let who will hear that we both love each other; +Wherefore continue to conceal it? Secrecy +Is for the happy--misery, hopeless misery, +Needeth no veil! Beneath a thousand suns +It dares act openly. + +[_He observes the_ COUNTESS _looking on_ THEKLA _with +expressions of triumph_.] + + No, Lady! No! +Expect not, hope it not. I am not come +To stay: to bid farewell, farewell forever. +For this I come! 'Tis over! I must leave thee! +Thekla, I must--_must_ leave thee! Yet thy hatred +Let me not take with me. I pray thee, grant me +One look of sympathy, only one look. +Say that thou dost not hate me. Say it to me, +Thekla! + +[_Grasps her hand_.] + +O God! I cannot leave this spot--I cannot! +Cannot let go this hand. O tell me, Thekla! +That thou dost suffer with me, art convinced +That I cannot act otherwise. + +[THEKLA, _avoiding his look, points with her hand to her +father_. MAX _turns round to the Duke, whom he had not till +then perceived_.] + +Thou here? It was not thou whom here I sought. +I trusted never more to have beheld thee. +My business is with her alone. Here will I +Receive a full acquittal from this heart-- +For any other I am no more concern'd. + +WALLENST. + +Think'st thou that, fool-like, I shall let thee go, +And act the mock-magnanimous with thee? +Thy father is become a villain to me; +I hold thee for his son, and nothing more: +Nor to no purpose shalt thou have been given +Into my power. Think not that I will honor +That ancient love, which so remorselessly +He mangled. They are now past by, those hours +Of friendship and forgiveness. Hate and vengeance +Succeed--'tis now their turn--I too can throw +All feelings of the man aside--can prove +Myself as much a monster as thy father! + +MAX. (_calmly_). + +Thou wilt proceed with me, as thou hast power. +Thou know'st, I neither brave nor fear thy rage. +What has detain'd me here, that too thou know'st. + +[_Taking_ THEKLA _by the hand_.] + +See, Duke! All--all would I have owed to thee, +Would have received from thy paternal hand +The lot of blessed spirits. This hast thou +Laid waste forever--that concerns not thee; +Indifferent thou tramplest in the dust +Their happiness who most are thine. The god +Whom thou dost serve is no benignant deity +Like as the blind, irreconcilable, +Fierce element, incapable of compact, +Thy heart's wild impulse only dost thou follow.[28] + +WALLENST. + +Thou art describing thy own father's heart. +The adder! O, the charms of hell o'erpowered me; +He dwelt within me, to my inmost soul +Still to and fro he pass'd, suspected never +On the wide ocean, in the starry heaven +Did mine eyes seek the enemy, whom I +In my heart's heart had folded! Had I been +To _Ferdinand_ what Octavio was to _me_, +War had I ne'er denounced against him. No, +I never could have done it. The Emperor was +My austere master only, not my friend. +There was already war 'twixt him and me +When he deliver'd the Commander's Staff +Into my hands; for there's a natural, +Unceasing war 'twixt cunning and suspicion; +Peace exists only betwixt confidence +And faith. Who poisons confidence, he murders +The future generations. + +MAX. + + I will not +Defend my father. Woe is me, I cannot! +Hard deeds and luckless have ta'en place; one crime +Drags after it the other in close link. +But we are innocent: how have we fallen +Into this circle of mishap and guilt? +To whom have we been faithless? Wherefore must +The evil deeds and guilt reciprocal +Of our two fathers twine like serpents round us? + Why must our fathers' +Unconquerable hate rend us asunder, +Who love each other? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Max, remain with me. +Go you not from me, Max! Hark! I will tell thee-- +How when at Prague, our winter quarters, thou +Wert brought into my tent a tender boy, +Not yet accustom'd to the German winters; +Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colors; +Thou wouldst not let them go.-- +At that time did I take thee in my arms, +And with my mantle did I cover thee; +I was thy nurse, no woman could have been +A kinder to thee; I was not ashamed +To do for thee all little offices, +However strange to me; I tended thee +Till life return'd; and when thine eyes first open'd, +I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have +Alter'd my feelings toward thee? Many thousands +Have I made rich, presented them with lands; +Rewarded them with dignities and honors; +Thee have I _loved_: my heart, my self, I gave +To thee! They all were aliens: THOU went +Our child and inmate.[29] Max! Thou cans't not leave me; +It cannot be; I may not, will not think +That Max can leave me. + +MAX. + + O my God! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I have +Held and sustain'd thee from thy tottering childhood; +What holy bond is there of natural love, +What human tie, that does not knit thee to me? +I love thee, Max! What did thy father for thee, +Which I too have not done, to the height of duty? +Go hence, forsake me, serve thy Emperor; +He will reward thee with a pretty chain +Of gold; with his ram's fleece will he reward thee; +For that the friend, the father of thy youth, +For that the holiest feeling of humanity, +Was nothing worth to thee. + +MAX. + + O God! how can I +Do otherwise? Am I not forced to do it? +My oath--my duty--my honor-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + How? Thy duty? +Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max! bethink thee +What duties mayst _thou_ have? If _I_ am acting +A criminal part toward the Emperor, +It is my crime, not thine. Dost thou belong +To thine own self? Art thou thine own commander? +Stand'st thou, like me, a freeman in the world, +That in thy actions thou shouldst plead free agency? +On me thou'rt planted, I am thy Emperor; +To obey _me_, to _belong_ to me, this is +Thy honor, this a law of nature to thee! +And if the planet, on the which thou livest +And hast thy dwelling, from its orbit starts, +It is not in thy choice whether or no +Thou'lt follow it. Unfelt it whirls thee onward +Together with his ring, and all his moons. +With little guilt stepp'st thou into this contest, +Thee will the world not censure, it will praise thee, +For that thou held'st thy friend more worth to thee +Than names and influences more removed; +For justice is the virtue of the ruler, +Affection and fidelity the subject's. +Not every one doth it beseem to question +The far-off high Arcturus. Most securely +Wilt thou pursue the nearest duty: let +The pilot fix his eye upon the pole-star. + + +SCENE XIX + + +_To these enter_ NEUMANN + +WALLENST. + + What now? + +NEUMANN. + +The Pappenheimers are dismounted, +And are advancing now on foot, determined +With sword in hand to storm the house, and free +The Count, their colonel. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to_ TERZKY). + + Have the cannon planted. +I will receive them with chain-shot. + + [_Exit_ TERZKY + +Prescribe to me with sword in hand! Go, Neumann, +'Tis my command that they retreat this moment, +And in their ranks in silence wait my pleasure. + + [NEUMANN _exit_. ILLO _steps to the window_.] + +COUNTESS. + Let him go, I entreat thee, let him go. + +ILLO (_at the window_). + +Hell and perdition! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is it? + +ILLO. They scale the council-house, the roof's uncovered, +They level at this house the cannon-- + +MAX. + + Madmen! + +ILLO. + +They are making preparations now to fire on us. + +DUCHESS and COUNTESS. +Merciful heaven! + +MAX (_to_ WALLENSTEIN). + + Let me go to them! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Not a step! + +MAX (_pointing to_ THEKLA _and the_ DUCHESS). + + But their life! Thine! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What tidings bring'st thou, Terzky? + + +SCENE XX + + +_To these_ TERZKY _returning_ + + +TERZKY. + +Message and greeting from our faithful regiments. +Their ardor may no longer be curb'd in. +They entreat permission to commence the attack; +And if thou wouldst but give the word of onset, +They could now charge the enemy in rear, +Into the city wedge them, and with ease +O'erpower them in the narrow streets. + +ILLO. + + O come! +Let not their ardor cool. The soldiery +Of Butler's corps stand by us faithfully; +We are the greater number. Let us charge them, +And finish here in Pilsen the revolt. + +WALLENST. + +What? shall this town become a field of slaughter, +And brother-killing Discord, fire-eyed, +Be let loose through its streets to roam and rage? +Shall the decision be deliver'd over +To deaf remorseless Rage, that hears no leader? +Here is not room for battle, only for butchery. +Well, let it be! I have long thought of it, +So let it burst them! + + [_Turns to_ MAX.] + + Well, how is it with thee? +Wilt thou attempt a heat with me? Away! +Thou art free to go. Oppose thyself to me, +Front against front, and lead them to the battle; +Thou'rt skill'd in war, thou hast learn'd somewhat under me, +I need not be ashamed of my opponent, +And never hadst thou fairer opportunity +To pay me for thy schooling. + +COUNTESS. + + Is it then, +Can it have come to this?--What! Cousin, cousin! +Have you the heart? + +MAX. + +The regiments that are trusted to my care +I have pledged my troth to bring away from Pilsen +True to the Emperor; and this promise will I +Make good, or perish. More than this no duty +Requires of me. I will not fight against thee, +Unless compell'd; for though an enemy, +Thy head is holy to me still. + +[_Two reports of cannon_. ILLO _and_ TERZKY _hurry to the +window_.] + +WALLENST. + + What's that? + +TERZKY. + + He falls. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Falls! Who? + +ILLO. + + Tiefenbach's corps +Discharged the ordnance. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Upon whom? + +ILLO. + + On Neumann, +Your messenger. + +WALLENSTEIN (_starting up_). + + Ha! Death and hell! I will-- + +TERZKY. + +Expose thyself to their blind frenzy? + +DUCHESS _and_ COUNTESS. + + No! +For God's sake, no! + +ILLO. + + Not yet, my General +O hold him! hold him! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Leave me. + +MAX. + + Do it not; +Not yet! This rash and bloody deed has thrown them +Into a frenzy-fit--allow them time-- + +WALLENST. + +Away! too long already have I loiter'd. +They are emboldened to these outrages, +Beholding not my face. They shall behold +My countenance, shall hear my voice-- +Are they not _my_ troops? Am I not their General, +And their long-fear'd commander? Let me see +Whether indeed they do no longer know +That countenance, which was their sun in battle! +From the balcony (mark!) I show myself +To these rebellious forces, and at once +Revolt is mounded, and the high-swoln current +Shrinks back into the old bed of obedience. + +[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; ILLO, TERZKY, _and_ BUTLER _follow_.] + + +SCENE XXI + + +COUNTESS, DUCHESS, MAX _and_ THEKLA + +COUNTESS (_to the_ DUCHESS). + +Let them but see him--there is hope still, sister. + +DUCHESS. + +Hope! I have none! + +MAX (_who during the last scene has been standing at a +distance, in a visible struggle of feelings, advances_). + + This can I not endure. +With most determined soul did I come hither; +My purposed action seem'd unblamable +To my own conscience--and I must stand here +Like one abhorr'd, a hard inhuman being: +Yea, loaded with the curse of all I love! +Must see all whom I love in this sore anguish, +Whom I with one word can make happy--O! +My heart revolts within me, and two voices +Make themselves audible within my bosom. +My soul's benighted; I no longer can +Distinguish the right track. O, well and truly +Didst thou say, father, I relied too much +On my own heart. My mind moves to and fro-- +know not what to do. + +COUNTESS. + + What! you know not? +Does not your own heart tell you? O! then I +Will tell it you. Your father is a traitor, +A frightful traitor to us--he has plotted +Against our General's life, has plunged us all +In misery--and you're his son! 'Tis yours +To make the _amends_--Make you the son's fidelity +Outweigh the father's treason, that the name +Of Piccolomini be not a proverb +Of infamy, a common form of cursing +To the posterity of Wallenstein. + +MAX. + +Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow! +It speaks no longer in _my_ heart. We all +But utter what our passionate wishes dictate: +O that an angel would descend from heaven, +And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted, +With a pure hand from the pure fount of Light! + + [_His eyes glance on_ THEKLA.] + +What other angel seek I? To this heart, +To this unerring heart, will I submit it; +Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless +The happy man alone, averted ever +From the disquieted and guilty--_canst_ thou +Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst, +And I am the Duke's-- + +COUNTESS. + + Think, niece-- + +MAX. + + Think, nothing, Thekla! +Speak what thou _feelest_. + +COUNTESS. + + Think upon your father. + +MAX. + +I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. +Thee, the beloved and the unerring god +Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake? +Not whether diadem of royalty +Be to be won or not--that mightst thou _think_ on. +Thy friend, and his soul's quiet, are at stake: +The fortune of a thousand gallant men, +Who will all follow me; shall I forswear +My oath and duty to the Emperor? +Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp +The parricidal ball? For when the ball +Has left its cannon, and is on its flight, +It is no longer a dead instrument! +It lives, a spirit passes into it, +The avenging furies seize possession of it, +And with sure malice guide it the worst way. + +THEIKLA. + +O! Max-- + +MAX (_interrupting her_). + + Nay, not precipitately either, Thekla, +I understand thee. To thy noble heart +The hardest duty might appear the highest. +The human, not the great part, would I act +Even from my childhood to this present hour. +Think what the Duke has done--for me, how loved me +And think, too, how my father has repaid him. +O likewise the free lovely impulses +Of hospitality, the pious friend's +Faithful attachment, these, too, are a holy +Religion to the heart; and heavily +The shudderings of nature do avenge +Themselves on the barbarian that insults them. +Lay all upon the balance, all--then speak, +And let thy heart decide it. + +THEKLA. + + O, thy own +Hath long ago decided. Follow thou +Thy heart's first feeling-- + +COUNTESS. + + Oh! ill-fated woman. + +THEKLA. + +Is it possible that that can be the right, +The which thy tender heart did not at first +Detect and seize with instant impulse? Go, +Fulfil thy duty! I should ever love thee +What'er thou hadst chosen, thou wouldst still have acted +Nobly and worthy of thee--but repentance +Shall ne'er disturb thy soul's fair peace. + +MAX. + + Then I +Must leave thee, must part from thee! + +THEKLA. + + Being faithful +To thine own self, thou art faithful, too, to me; +If our fates part, our hearts remain united. +A bloody hatred will divide forever +The houses Piccolomini and Friedland; +But we belong not to our houses. Go! +Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause +From our unholy and unblessd one! +The curse of Heaven lies upon our head: +'Tis dedicate to ruin. Even me +My father's guilt drags with it to perdition. +Mourn not for me: +My destiny will quickly be decided. + +[MAX _clasps her in his arms in extreme emotion. There +is heard from behind the scenes a loud, wild, long +continued cry_, Vivat Ferdinandus! _accompanied by warlike +instruments_. MAX _and_ THEKLA _remain without motion in +each other's embraces_.] + + +SCENE XXII + + +_To the above enter_ TERZKY + +COUNTESS (_meeting him_). + +What meant that cry? What was it? + +TERZKY. + + All is lost! + +COUNTESS. + +What! they regarded not his countenance? + +TERZKY. + +'Twas all in vain. + +DUCHESS. + + They shouted Vivat!-- + +TERZKY. + + To the Emperor. + +COUNTESS. + +The traitors! + +TERZIBY. + + Nay! he was not permitted +Even to address them. Soon as he began, +With deafening noise of warlike instruments +They drown'd his words. But here he comes. + + +SCENE XXIII + + +_To these enter_ WALLENSTEIN, _accompanied by_ ILLO _and_ +BUTLER + +WALLENSTEIN (_as he enters_). + + Terzky! + +TERZKY. + +My General! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Let our regiments hold themselves +In readiness to march; for we shall leave +Pilsen ere evening. + + [_Exit_ TERZKY.] + + Butler! + +BUTLER. + + Yes, my General. + +WALLENST. + +The Governor of Egra is your friend +And countryman. Write to him instantly +By a post-courier. He must be advised, +That we are with him early on the morrow. +You follow us yourself, your regiment with you. + +BUTLER. + +It shall be done, my General! + +WALLENSTEIN (_steps between_ MAX _and_ THEKLA, _who have +remained during this time in each other's arms_). + + Part! + +MAX. + + O God! + +[Cuirassiers _enter with drawn swords, and assemble in the +background. At the same time there are heard from below some +spirited passages out of the Pappenheim March, which seem to +address_ MAX.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the Cuirassiers_). + +Here he is, he is at liberty: I keep him +No longer. + +[_He turns away, and stands so that_ MAX _cannot pass by him +nor approach the_ PRINCESS.] + +MAX. + +Thou know'st that I have not yet learnt to live +Without thee! I go forth into a desert, +Leaving my all behind me. O do not turn +Thine eyes away from me! O once more show me +Thy ever dear and honor'd countenance! + +[MAX _attempts to take his hand, but is repelled; he turns +to the_ COUNTESS.] + +Is there no eye that has a look of pity for me? + +[_The_ COUNTESS _turns away from him; he turns to the_ +DUCHESS.] + +My mother! + +DUCHESS. + + Go where duty calls you. Haply +The time may come, when you may prove to us +A true friend, a good angel at the throne +Of the Emperor. + +MAX. + + You give me hope; you would not +Suffer me wholly to despair. No! no! +Mine is a certain misery. Thanks to Heaven! +That offers me a means of ending it. + +[_The military music begins again. The stage fills more and +more with armed men_. MAX _sees_ BUTLER _and addresses +him_.] + +And you here, Colonel Butler--and will you +Not follow me? Well, then! remain more faithful +To your new lord than you have proved yourself +To the Emperor. Come, Butler! promise me, +Give me your hand upon it, that you'll be +The guardian of his life, its shield, its watchman. +He is attainted, and his princely head +Fair booty for each slave that trades in murder. +Now he doth need the faithful eye of friendship, +And those whom here I see-- + +[_Casting suspicious looks on_ ILLO _and_ BUTLER.] + +ILLO. + +Go--seek for traitors +In Gallas', in your father's quarters. Here +Is only one. Away! away! and free us +From his detested sight! Away! + +[MAX _attempts once more to approach_ THEKLA. WALLENSTEIN +_prevents him_. MAX _stands irresolute, and in apparent +anguish. In the mean time the stage fills more and more; and +the horns sound from below louder and louder, and each time +after a shorter interval_.] + +MAX. + +Blow! blow! O were it but the Swedish trumpets, +And all the naked swords, which I see here, +Were plunged into my breast! What purpose you? +You come to tear me from this place! Beware, +Ye drive me not to desperation. Do it not! +Ye may repent it! + +[_The stage is entirely filled with armed men_.] + +Yet more! weight upon weight to drag me down! +Think what ye're doing. It is not well done +To choose a man despairing for your leader; +You tear me from my happiness. Well, then, +I dedicate your souls to vengeance. Mark! +For your own ruin you have chosen me: +Who goes with me, must be prepared to perish. + +[_He turns to the background, there ensues a sudden and +violent movement among the Cuirassiers; they surround him, +and carry him off in wild tumult_. WALLENSTEIN_ remains +immovable_. THEKLA _sinks into her mother's arms. The +curtain falls. The music becomes loud and overpowering, and +passes into a complete war march--the orchestra joins it and +continues during the interval between the second and third +Act_.] + + +ACT IV + + +SCENE I + +_The Burgomaster's House at Egra_ + +BUTLER (_just arrived_). + +Here then he is, by his destiny conducted. +Here, Friedland! and no farther! From Bohemia +Thy meteor rose, traversed the sky awhile, +And here upon the borders of Bohemia +Must sink. + + Thou hast foresworn the ancient colors, +Blind man! yet trustest to thy ancient fortunes. +Profaner of the altar and the hearth, +Against thy Emperor and fellow citizens +Thou mean'st to wage the war. Friedland, beware-- +The evil spirit of revenge impels thee-- +Beware thou, that revenge destroy thee not! + + +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. + + + +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_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_A Saloon, terminated by a Gallery which extends far into +the background_. + +WALLENSTEIN _Sitting at a table. The_ SWEDISH CAPTAIN +_standing before him_. + +WALLENST. + +Commend me to your lord. I sympathize +In his good fortune; and if you have seen me +Deficient in the expressions; of that joy, +Which such a victory might well demand, +Attribute it to no lack of good will, +For henceforth are our fortunes one. Farewell, +And for your trouble take my thanks. Tomorrow +The citadel shall be surrendered to you +On your arrival. + +[_The_ SWEDISH CAPTAIN _retires_. WALLENSTEIN _sits lost in +thought, his eyes fixed vacantly, and his head sustained by +his hand. The_ COUNTESS TERZKY _enters, stands before him +for awhile, unobserved by him; at length he starts, sees her +and recollects himself_.] + +WALLENST. + +Comest thou from her? Is she restored? How +is she? + +COUNTESS. + +My sister tells me, she was more collected +After her conversation with the Swede. +She has now retired to rest. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + The pang will soften; +She will shed tears. + +COUNTESS. + + I find thee alter'd too, +My brother! After such a victory +I had expected to have found in thee +A cheerful spirit. O remain _thou_ firm! +Sustain, uphold us! For our light thou art, +Our sun. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Be quiet. I ail nothing. Where's +Thy husband? + +COUNTESS. + + At a banquet--he and Illo. + +WALLENSTEIN _(rises and strides across the saloon)_. + +The night's far spent. Betake thee to thy +chamber. + +COUNTESS. + +Bid me not go, O let me stay with thee! + +WALLENSTEIN _(moves to the window)_. + +There is a busy motion in the Heaven, +The wind doth chase the flag upon the tower, +Fast sweep the clouds, the sickle[34] of the moon, +Struggling, darts snatches of uncertain light; +No form of star is visible! That one +White stain of light, that single glimmering yonder, +Is from Cassiopeia, and therein +Is Jupiter. + + (_A pause_). + + But now +The blackness of the troubled element hides him! +[_He sinks into profound melancholy, and looks +vacantly into the distance_.] + +COUNTESS (_looks on him mournfully, then grasps his hand_). + +What art thou brooding on? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Methinks, +If I but saw him, 'twould be well with me. +He is the star of my nativity, +And often marvelously hath his aspect +Shot strength into my heart. + +COUNTESS. + + Thou'lt see him again. + +WALLENSTEIN _(remains for a while, with, absent mind, then +assumes a livelier manner, and turning suddenly to the_ +COUNTESS). + +See him again? O never, never again! + +COUNTESS. + +How? + +WALLENSTEIN. + +He is gone--is dust. + +COUNTESS. + + Whom meanest thou, then? + +WALLENST. + +He, the more fortunate! yea, he hath finish'd! +For him there is no longer any future, +His life is bright--bright without spot it _was_, +And cannot cease to be. No ominous hour +Knocks at his door with tidings of mishap; +Far off is he, above desire and fear; +No more submitted to the change and chance +Of the unsteady planets. O 'tis well +With him! but who knows what the coming hour +Veil'd in thick darkness brings for us? + +COUNTESS. + + Thou speakest +Of Piccolomini. What was his death? +The courier had just left thee as I came. + +[WALLENSTEIN _by a motion of his hand makes signs to her to +be silent._] + +Turn not thine eyes upon the backward view, +Let us look forward into sunny days, +Welcome with joyous heart the victory, +Forget what it has cost thee. Not today, +For the first time, thy friend was to thee dead; +To thee he died, when first he parted from thee. + +WALLENST. + +This anguish will be wearied down,[35] I know; +What pang is permanent with man? From the highest, +As from the vilest thing of every day, +He learns to wean himself: for the strong hours +Conquer him. Yet I feel what I have lost +In him. The bloom is vanish'd from my life; +For O! he stood beside me, like my youth, +Transform'd for me the real to a dream, +Clothing the palpable and the familiar +With golden exhalations of the dawn. +Whatever fortunes wait my future toils, +The _beautiful_ is vanish'd--and returns not. + +COUNTESS. + +O be not treacherous to thy own power. +Thy heart is rich enough to vivify +Itself. Thou lovest and prizest virtues in him, +The which thyself didst plant, thyself unfold. + +WALLENSTEIN _(stepping to the door_). + +Who interrupts us now at this late hour? +It is the Governor. He brings the keys +Of the Citadel. 'Tis midnight. Leave me, sister! + +COUNTESS. + +O 'tis so hard to me this night to leave thee-- +A boding fear possesses me! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Fear! Wherefore? + +COUNTESS. + +Shouldst thou depart this night, and we at waking +Never more find thee! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Fancies! + +COUNTESS. + + O my soul +Has long been weigh'd down by these dark fore-bodings, +And if I combat and repel them waking, +They will crush down upon my heart in dreams. +I saw thee yesternight with thy first wife +Sit at a banquet, gorgeously attired. + +WALLENST. + +This was a dream of favorable omen, +That marriage being the founder of my fortunes. + +COUNTESS. + +Today I dreamt that I was seeking thee +In thy own chamber. As I enter'd, lo! +It was no more a chamber: the Chartreuse +At Gitschin 'twas, which thou thyself hast founded, +And where it is thy will that thou should'st be +Interr'd. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Thy soul is busy with these thoughts. + +COUNTESS. + +What! dost thou not believe that oft in dreams +A voice of warning speaks prophetic to us? + +WALTENST. + +There is no doubt that there exist such voices; +Yet I would not call _them_ +Voices of warning that announce to us +Only the inevitable. As the sun, +Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image +In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits +Of great events stride on before the events, +And in today already walks tomorrow. +That which we read of the fourth Henry's death +Did ever vex and haunt me like a tale +Of my own future destiny. The king +Felt in his breast the phantom of the knife, +Long ere Ravaillac arm'd himself therewith. +His quiet mind forsook him: the phantasma +Started him in his Louvre, chased him forth +Into the open air: like funeral knells +Sounded that coronation festival; +And still with boding sense he heard the tread +Of those feet that even then were seeking him +Throughout the streets of Paris. + +COUNTESS. + + And to _thee_ +The voice within thy soul bodes nothing? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Nothing. +Be wholly tranquil. + +COUNTESS. + + And another time +I hasten'd after thee, and thou ran'st from me +Through a long suite, through many a spacious hall. +There seem'd no end of it: doors creak'd and clapp'd; +I follow'd panting, but could not o'ertake thee; +When on a sudden did I feel myself +Grasp'd from behind--the hand was cold that grasped me-- +'Twas thou, and thou didst kiss me, and there seem'd +A crimson covering to envelop us. + +WALLENST. That is the crimson tapestry of my chamber. + +COUNTESS _(gazing on him)._ +If it should come to that--if I should see thee, +Who standest now before me in the fulness +Of life-- + +_[She falls on his breast and weeps_.] + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor's proclamation weighs upon thee-- +Alphabets wound not--and he finds no hands. + +COUNTESS. + +If he _should_ find them, my resolve is taken-- +I bear about me my support and refuge. + + [_Exit_ COUNTESS.] + + +SCENE IV + + +WALLENSTEIN, GORDON + +WALLENST. + +All quiet in the town? + +GORDON. + + The town is quiet. + +WALLENST. + +I hear a boisterous music! and the Castle +Is lighted up. Who are the revellers? + +GORDON. + +There is a banquet given at the Castle +To the Count Terzky and Field Marshal Illo. + +WALLENST. + +In honor of the victory--This tribe +Can show their joy in nothing else but feasting. + + [_Rings. The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _enters_.] + +Unrobe me. I will lay me down to sleep. + +[WALLENSTEIN _takes the keys from_ GORDON.] + +So we are guarded from all enemies, +And shut in with sure friends; +For all must cheat me, or a face like this + + [_Fixing his eye on_ GORDON.] + +Was ne'er a hypocrite's mask. + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _takes off his mantle, collar, +and scarf._] + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Take care--what is that? + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER. + +The golden chain is snapped in two. + +WALLENST. + +Well, it has lasted long enough. Here--give it. + + [_He takes and looks at the chain_.] + +'Twas the first present of the Emperor. +He hung it round me in the war of Friule, +He being then Archduke; and I have worn it +Till now from habit-- +From superstition, if you will. Belike, +It was to be a talisman to me; +And while I wore it on my neck in faith, +It was to chain to me all my life long +The volatile fortune, whose first pledge it was-- +Well, be it so! Henceforward a new fortune +Must spring up for me; for the potency +Of this charm is dissolved. + +[GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _retires with the vestments._ +WALLENSTEIN _rises, takes a stride across the room, and +stands at last before_ GORDON _in a posture of meditation_.] + +How the old time returns upon me! I +Behold myself once more at Burgau, where +We two were Pages of the Court together. +We oftentimes disputed: thy intention +Was ever good; but thou wert wont to play +The Moralist and Preacher, and wouldst rail at me-- +That I strove after things too high for me, +Giving my faith to bold unlawful dreams, +And still extol to me the golden mean-- +Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friend +To thy own self. See, it has made thee early +A superannuated man, and (but +That my munificent stars will intervene) +Would let thee in some miserable corner +Go out like an untended lamp. + +GORDON. + + My Prince! +With light heart the poor fisher moors his boat, +And watches from the shore the lofty ship +Stranded amid the storm. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Art thou already +In harbor then, old man? Well! I am not. +The unconquer'd spirit drives me o'er life's billows; +My planks still firm, my canvas swelling proudly. +Hope is my goddess still, and Youth my inmate; +And while we stand thus front to front almost +I might presume to say that the swift years +Have passed by powerless o'er my unblanched +hair. + +_[He moves with long strides across the Saloon, +and remains on the opposite side over +against_ GORDON.] + +Who now persists in calling Fortune false? +To me she has proved faithful; with fond love +Took me from out the common ranks of men, +And like a mother goddess, with strong arm +Carried me swiftly up the steps of life. +Nothing is common in my destiny, +Nor in the furrows of my hand. Who dares +Interpret then my life for me as 'twere +One of the undistinguishable many? +True, in this present moment I appear +Fallen low indeed; but I shall rise again. +The high flood will soon follow on this ebb; +The fountain of my fortune, which now stops +Repress'd and bound by some malicious star, +Will soon in joy play forth from all its pipes. + +GORDON. + +And yet remember I the good old proverb, +"Let the night come before we praise the day." +I would be slow from long-continued fortune +To gather hope: for Hope is the companion +Given to the unfortunate by pitying Heaven. +Fear hovers round the head of prosperous men; +For still unsteady are the scales of fate. + +WALLENSTEIN _(smiling_). + +I hear the very Gordon that of old +Was wont to preach, now once more preaching; +I know well that all sublunary things +Are still the vassals of vicissitude. +The unpropitious gods demand their tribute; +This long ago the ancient Pagans knew: +And therefore of their own accord they offer'd +To themselves injuries, so to atone +The jealousy of their divinities: +And human sacrifices bled to Typhon. + +[_After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner._] + +I too have sacrificed to him--For me +There fell the dearest friend, and through my fault +He fell! No joy from favorable fortune +Can overweight the anguish of this stroke. +The envy of my destiny is glutted +Life pays for life. On his pure head the lightning +Was drawn off which would else have shatter'd _me_. + + +SCENE V + + +_To these enter_ SENI + +WALLENST. + +Is not that Seni! and beside himself, +If one may trust his looks? What brings thee hither +At this late hour, Baptista? + +SENI. + + Terror, Duke! +On thy account. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now? + +SENI. + + Flee ere the day break! +Trust not thy person to the Swedes! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now +Is in thy thoughts? + +SENI (_with louder voice_). + +Trust not thy person to the Swedes. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is it, then? + +SENI (_still more urgently_). + +O wait not the arrival of these Swedes! +An evil near at hand is threatening thee +From false friends. All the signs stand full of horror! +Near, near at hand the net-work of perdition-- +Yea, even now 'tis being cast around thee! + +WALLENST. + +Baptista, thou art dreaming!--Fear befools thee. + +SENI. + +Believe not that an empty fear deludes me. +Come, read it in the planetary aspects; +Read it thyself that ruin threatens thee +From false friends. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + From the falseness of my friends +Has risen the whole of my unprosperous fortunes. +The warning should have come before! At present +I need no revelation from the stars +To know that. + +SENI. + + Come and see! trust thine own eyes! +A fearful sign stands in the house of life-- +An enemy; a fiend lurks close behind +The radiance of thy planet.--O be warn'd! +Deliver not up thyself to these heathens, +To wage a war against our holy church. + +WALLENSTEIN (_laughing gently_). + +The oracle rails that way! Yes, yes! Now +I recollect. This junction with the Swedes +Did never please thee--lay thyself to sleep, +Baptista! Signs like these I do not fear. + +GORDON (_who during the whole of this dialogue has shown +marks of extreme agitation, and now turns to_ WALLENSTEIN). + +My Duke and General! May I dare presume? + +WALLENST. + +Speak freely. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN WARNED BY HIS FRIENDS +As performed at the Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906] + +GORDON. + + What if 'twere no mere creation +Of fear, if God's high providence vouchsafed +To interpose its aid for your deliverance, +And made that mouth its organ? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Ye're both feverish! +How can mishap come to me from the Swedes! +They sought this junction with me--'tis their +interest. + +GORDON _(with difficulty suppressing his emotion)_. + +But what if the arrival of these Swedes-- +What if this were the very thing that wing'd +The ruin that is flying to your temples? + + [_Flings himself at his feet_.] + +There is yet time, my Prince. + +SENI. + +O hear him! hear him! + +GORDON _(rises)_. + +The Rhinegrave's still far off. Give but the orders, +This citadel shall close its gates upon him. +If then he will besiege us, let him try it. +But this I say; he'll find his own destruction +With his whole force before these ramparts, sooner +Than weary down the valor of our spirit. +He shall experience what a band of heroes, +Inspirited by an heroic leader, +Is able to perform. And if indeed +It be thy serious wish to make amend +For that which thou hast done amiss--this, this +Will touch and reconcile the Emperor, +Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy +And Friedland, who returns repentant to him, +Will stand yet higher in his Emperor's favor +Than e'er he stood when he had never fallen. + +WALLENSTEIN (_contemplates him with surprise, remains +awhile, betraying strong emotion_). + +Gordon--your zeal and fervor lead you far. +Well, well--an old friend has a privilege. +Blood, Gordon, has been flowing. Never, never +Can the Emperor pardon me; and if he could, +Yet I--I never could let myself be pardon'd. +Had I foreknown what now has taken place, +That he, my dearest friend, would fall for me +My first death-offering; and had the heart +Spoken to me, as now it has done--Gordon, +It may be, I might have bethought myself; +It may be too, I might not. Might or might not +Is now an idle question. All too seriously +Has it begun to end in nothing, Gordon! +Let it then have its course. + +[_Stepping to the window._] + +All dark and silent-at the castle too +All is now hush'd--Light me, Chamberlain! + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER, _who had entered during the +last dialogue, and had been standing at a distance and +listening to it with visible expressions of the deepest +interest, advances in extreme agitation, and throws himself +at the_ DUKE'S _feet._] + +And thou too! But I know why thou dost wish +My reconcilement with the Emperor. +Poor man! he hath a small estate in Carinthia, +And fears it will be forfeited because +He's in my service. Am I then so poor +That I no longer can indemnify +My servants? Well! to no one I employ +Means of compulsion. If 'tis thy belief +That fortune has fled from me, go! forsake me. +This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me, +And then go over to thy Emperor. +Gordon, good night! I think to make a long +Sleep of it: for the struggle and the turmoil +Of this last day or two was great. May't please you! +Take care that they awake me not too early. + +[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN, _the_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _lighting +him_.SENI _follows_, GORDON _remains on the darkened stage, +following the_ DUKE _with his eye, till he disappears at the +farther end of the gallery: then by his gestures the old man +expresses the depth of his anguish and stands leaning +against a pillar._] + + +SCENE VI + + +GORDON, BUTLER (_at first behind the scenes_) + +BUTLER (_not yet come into view of the stage_). + +Here stand in silence till I give the signal. + +GORDON (_starts up_). + +'Tis he! he has already brought the murderers. + +BUTLER. + +The lights are out. All lies in profound sleep. + +GORDON. What shall I do? Shall I attempt to save him? +Shall I call up the house? alarm the guards? + +BUTLER (_appears, but scarcely on the stage_). + +A light gleams hither from the corridor. +It leads directly to the Duke's bed-chamber. + +GORDON. + +But then I break my oath to the Emperor; +If he escape and strengthen the enemy, +Do I not hereby call down on my head +All the dread consequences? + +BUTLER (_stepping forward_). + + Hark! Who speaks there? + +GORDON. + +'Tis better, I resign it to the hands +Of Providence. For what am I, that I +Should take upon myself so great a deed? +I have not murdered him, if he be murder'd; +But all his rescue were _my_ act and deed; +_Mine_--and whatever be the consequences, +I must sustain them. + +BUTLER (_advances_). + + I should know that voice. + +GORDON. + +Butler! + +BUTLER. + + 'Tis Gordon. What do _you_ want here? +Was it so late then, when the Duke dismiss'd you? + +GORDON. + +Your hand bound up and in a scarf? + +BUTLER. + + 'Tis wounded. +That Illo fought as he were frantic, till +At last we threw him on the ground. + +GORDON (_shuddering_). Both dead? + +BUTLER. + +Is he in bed? + +GORDON. + + Ah, Butler! + +BUTLER. + + Is he? speak. + +GORDON. + +He shall _not_ perish! Not through you! The Heaven +Refuses _your_ arm. See--'tis wounded!-- + +BUTLER. + +There is no need of my arm. + +GORDON. + + The most guilty +Have perish'd, and enough is given to justice. + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _advances from the Gallery with +his finger on his mouth commanding silence_.] + +GORDON. + +He sleeps! O murder not the holy sleep! + +BUTLER. + +No! he shall die awake. + + [_Is going_.] + +GORDON. + +His heart still cleaves +To earthly things: he's not prepared to step +Into the presence of his God! + +BUTLER (_going_). + + God's merciful! + +GORDON (_holds him_). + +Grant him but this night's respite. + +BUTLER (_hurrying off_) + + The next moment +May ruin all. + +GORDON _(holds him still_). + +One hour!-- + +BUTLER. Unhold me! What +Can that short respite profit him? + +[Illustration: DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN Karl von Piloty] + +GORDON. + + O--Time +Works miracles. In one hour many thousands +Of grains of sand run out; and quick as they, +Thought follows thought within the human soul. +Only one hour! _Your_ heart may change its purpose, +_His_ heart may change its purpose--some new tidings +May come; some fortunate event, decisive, +May fall from Heaven and rescue him. O what +May not one hour achieve! + +BUTLER. + +You but remind me, +How precious every minute is! + + [_He stamps on the floor._] + + +SCENE VII + + +_To these enter_ MACDONALD _and_ DEVEREUX, _with the_ +HALBERDIERS + +GORDON (_throwing himself between him and them_). + + No, monster! +First over my dead body thou shalt tread. +I will not live to see the accursed deed! + +BUTLER (_forcing him out of the way_). + +Weak-hearted dotard! + +[_Trumpets are heard in the distance_.] + +DEVEREUX _and_ MACDONALD. + +Hark! the Swedish trumpets! +The Swedes before the ramparts! Let us hasten! + +GORDON (_rushes out_). + + O, God of mercy! + +BUTLER (_calling after him_). + +Governor, to your post! + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER (_hurries in_). + +Who dares make larum here? Hush! The Duke +sleeps. + +DEVEREUX (_with loud harsh voice_). + +Friend, it is time now to make larum. + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER. + + Help! +Murder! + +BUTLER. + +Down with him! + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER (_run through the body by_ DEVEREUX, +_falls at the entrance of the Gallery_). + + Jesus Maria! + +BUTLER. + +Burst the doors open. + +[_They rush over the body into the Gallery--two doors are +heard to crash one after the other.--Voices, deadened by the +distance--clash of arms--then all at once a profound +silence._] + + +SCENE VIII + + +COUNTESS TERZKY (_with a light_). + +Her bed-chamber is empty; she herself +Is nowhere to be found! The Neubrunn too, +Who watch'd by her, is missing. If she should +Be flown--but whither flown? We must call up +Every soul in the house. How will the Duke +Bear up against these worst bad tidings? O +If that my husband now were but return'd +Home from the banquet!--Hark! I wonder whether +The Duke is still awake! I thought I heard +Voices and tread of feet here! I will go +And listen at the door. Hark! what is that? +'Tis hastening up the steps! + + +SCENE IX + + +COUNTESS, GORDON + +GORDON (_rushes in out of breath_). + + 'Tis a mistake! +'Tis not the Swedes--Ye must proceed no further +Butler!--O God! where is he? + +GORDON (_observing the_ COUNTESS). + + Countess! Say-- + +COUNTESS. + +You are come then from the castle? Where's my husband? + +GORDON (_in an agony of affright)_. + +Your husband!--Ask not!--To the Duke-- + +COUNTESS. + + Not till +You have discover'd to me-- + +GORDON. + + On this moment +Does the world hang. For God's sake! to the Duke. +While we are speaking-- + +[_Calling loudly_.] + + Butler! Butler! God! + +COUNTESS. + +Why, he is at the castle with my husband. + +[BUTLER _comes from the Gallery_.] + +GORDON. + +'Twas a mistake--'Tis not the Swedes--it is +The Imperialists' Lieutenant-General +Has sent me hither--will be here himself +Instantly.--You must not proceed. + +BUTLER. + + He comes +Too late. + +[GORDON _dashes himself against the wall_.] + +GORDON. + +O God of mercy! + +COUNTESS. + + What too late? +Who will be here himself? Octavio +In Egra? Treason! Treason!--Where's the +Duke? + +[_She rushes to the Gallery._] + + +SCENE X + + +_Servants run across the Stage, full of terror. The whole +Scene must be spoken entirely without pauses_. + +SENI (_from the Gallery_). + +A bloody, frightful deed! + +COUNTESS. + + What is it, Seni? + +PAGE (_from the Gallery_). + +O piteous sight! + +[_Other servants hasten in with torches_.] + +COUNTESS. + +What is it? For God's sake! + +SENI. + + And do you ask? +Within, the Duke lies murder'd--and your husband +Assassinated at the Castle. + +[_The_ COUNTESS _stands motionless_.] + +FEMALE SERVANT (_rushing across the stage_). + + Help! help! the Duchess! + +BURGOMASTER (_enters_). + + What mean these confused +Loud cries that wake the sleepers of this house? + +GORDON. + +Your house is cursed to all eternity. +In your house doth the Duke lie murder'd! + +BURGOMASTER (_rushing out_). + + Heaven forbid! + +1ST SERV. + +Fly! fly! they murder us all! + +SECOND SERVANT (_carrying silver plate_). + + That way! the lower +Passages are block'd up. + +VOICE (_from behind the Scene_). + +Make room for the Lieutenant-General! + +[_At these words the_ COUNTESS _starts from her stupor, +collects herself, and retires suddenly_.] + +VOICE (_from behind the Scene_). + +Keep back the people! Guard the door! + + +SCENE XI + + +_To these enter_ OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI _with all his train. At +the same time_ DEVEREUX _and_ MACDONALD _enter from out the +Corridor with the Halberdiers_.--WALLENSTEIN'S _dead body is +carried over the back part of the stage, wrapped in a piece +of crimson tapestry_. + +OCTAVIO (_entering abruptly_). + +It must not be! It is not possible! +Butler! Gordon! +I'll not believe it. Say no! + +[GORDON, _without answering, points with his hand to the +body of_ WALLENSTEIN _as it is carried over the back of the +stage._ OCTAVIO _looks that way, and stands overpowered with +horror._] + +DEVEREUX (_to_ BUTLER). + +Here is the golden fleece--the Duke's Sword-- + +MACRON. + + Is it your order-- + +BUTLER (_pointing to_ OCTAVIO). + + Here stands he who now +Hath the sole power to issue orders. + +[DEVEREUx _and_ MACDONALD _retire with marks of obeisance. +One drops away after the other, till only_ BUTLER, OCTAVIO, +_and_ GORDON _remain on the stage.]_ + +OCTAVIO (_turning to_ BUTLER). + +Was that my purpose, Butler, when we parted? +O God of Justice! +To thee I lift my hand! I am not guilty +Of this foul deed. + +BUTLER. + +Your _hand_ is pure. You have +Avail'd yourself of mine. + +OCTAVIO. + + Merciless man! +Thus to abuse the orders of thy Lord-- +And stain thy Emperor's holy name with murder, +With bloody, most accursed assassination! + +BUTLER (_calmly_). + +I've but fulfilled the Emperor's own sentence. + +OCTAVIO. + +O curse of Kings, +Infusing a dread life into their words, +And linking to the sudden transient thought +The unchanging irrevocable deed. +Was there necessity for such an eager +Dispatch? Couldst thou not grant the merciful +A time for mercy? Time is man's good Angel. +To leave no interval between the sentence, +And the fulfilment of it, doth beseem +God only, the immutable! + +BUTLER. + + For what +Rail you against me? What is my offense? +The Empire from a fearful enemy +Have I deliver'd, and expect reward; +The single difference betwixt you and me +Is this: you placed the arrow in the bow: +I pull'd the string. You sow'd blood, and yet stand +Astonish'd that blood is come up. I always +Knew what I did, and therefore no result +Hath power to frighten or surprise my spirit. +Have you aught else to order; for this instant +I make my best speed to Vienna; place +My bleeding sword before my Emperor's throne, +And hope to gain the applause which undelaying +And punctual obedience may demand +From a just judge. + + [_Exit_ BUTLER.] + +SCENE XII + + +_To these enter the_ COUNTESS TERZKY, _pale and disordered. +Her utterance is slow and feeble, and unimpassioned_. + +OCTAVIO (_meeting her_). + +O, Countess Terzky! These are the results +Of luckless unblest deeds. + +COUNTESS. + + They are the fruits +Of your contrivances. The Duke is dead, +My husband too is dead, the Duchess struggles +In the pangs of death, my niece has disappear'd, +This house of splendor, and of princely glory, +Doth now stand desolated: the affrighted servants +Rush forth through all its doors. I am the last +Therein; I shut it up, and here deliver +The keys. + +OCTAVIO (_with a deep anguish_). + +O Countess! my house, too, is desolate. + +COUNTESS. + +Who next is to be murder'd? Who is next +To be maltreated? Lo! the Duke is dead, +The Emperor's vengeance may be pacified! +Spare the old servants; let not their fidelity +Be imputed to the faithful as a crime-- +The evil destiny surprised my brother +Too suddenly: he could not think on them. + +OCTAVIO. + +Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment! +The Emperor is appeased; the heavy fault +Hath heavily been expiated--nothing +Descended from the father to the daughter, +Except his glory and his services. +The Empress honors your adversity, +Takes part in your afflictions, opens to you +Her motherly arms! Therefore, no farther fears; +Yield yourself up in hope and confidence +To the Imperial Grace! + +COUNTESS. _(with her eye raised to heaven_). + +To the grace and mercy of a greater Master +Do I yield up myself. Where shall the body +Of the Duke have its place of final rest? +In the Chartreuse, which he himself did found +At Gitschin, rests the Countess Wallenstein; +And by her side, to whom he was indebted +For his first fortunes, gratefully he wish'd +He might sometime repose in death! O let him +Be buried there. And likewise, for my husband's +Remains, I ask the like grace. The Emperor +Is now the proprietor of all our castles. +This sure may well be granted us--one sepulchre +Beside the sepulchres of our forefathers! + +OCTAVIO. + +Countess, you tremble, you turn pale! + +COUNTESS _(re-assembles all her powers, and speaks with +energy and dignity)_. + + You think +More worthily of me than to believe +I would survive the downfall of my house. +We did not hold ourselves too mean to grasp +After a monarch's crown--the crown did fate +Deny, but not the feeling and the spirit +That to the crown belong! We deem a +Courageous death more worthy of our free station +Than a dishonor'd life.--I have taken poison. + +OCTAVIO. + +Help! Help! Support her! + +COUNTESS. + + Nay, it is too late, +In a few moments is my fate accomplish'd. + + [_Exit_ COUNTESS.] + +GORDON. + +O house of death and horrors! + +[_An_ OFFICER _enters, and brings a letter with the great +seal_. GORDON _steps forward and meets him._] + + What is this? +It is the Imperial Seal. + +[_He reads the address, and delivers the letter to_ OCTAVIO +_with a look of reproach, and with an emphasis on the +word._] + +To the _Prince_ Piccolomini. + +[OCTAVIO, _with his whole frame expressive of sudden +anguish, raises his eyes to heaven_.] + + [_The Curtain drops._] + + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 22: Thomas: The Life and Works of Schiller, p. 330.] + +[Footnote 23: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, London.] + +[Footnote 24: A great stone near Ltzen, since called the Swede's +Stone, the body of their great king having been found at the foot of +it, after the battle in which he lost his life.] + +[Footnote 25: Could I have hazarded such a Germanism as the use of the +word after-world, for posterity--"Es spreche Welt und _Nachwelt_ +meinen Namen" might have been rendered with more literal +fidelity:--Let world and after-world speak out my name, etc.] + +[Footnote 26: I have not ventured to affront the fastidious delicacy +of our age with a literal translation of this line, + + werth +Die Eingeweide schaudernd aufzureger.] + +[Footnote 27: Anspessade, in German Gefreiter, a soldier inferior to a +corporal, but above the sentinels. The German name implies that he is +exempt from mounting guard.] + +[Footnote 28: I have here ventured to omit a considerable number of +lines. I fear that I should not have done amiss, had I taken this +liberty more frequently. It is, however, incumbent on me to give the +original, with a literal translation. + + Weh denen, die auf Dich vertraun, an Dich + Die sichre Htte illres Glckes lehnen, + Gelockt von deiner geistlichen Gestalt. + Schnell unverhofft, bei nchtlich stiller Weile + Ghrts in dem tckschen Feuerschlunde, ladet + Sich aus mit tobender Gewalt, und weg + Treibt ber alle Pflanzungen der Menschen + Der Wilde Strom in grausender Zerstrung. + + WALLENSTEIN. + + Du schilderst deines Vaters Herz. Wie Du's + Beschreibst, so ist's in seinem Eingeweide, + In dieser schwarzen Heuchlers Brust gestaltet. + O, mich hat Hllenkunst getuscht! Mir sandte + Der Abgrund den verflecktesten der Geister, + Den Lgenkundigsten herauf, and stellt' ihn + Als Freund an meiner Seite. Wer vermag + Der Hlle Macht zu widerstehn! Ich zog + Den Basilisken auf an meinem Busen, + Mit meinem Herzblut nhrt ich ihn, er sog + Sich schwelgend voll an meiner Liebe Brsten, + Ich hatte nimmer Arges gegen ihn, + Weit offen liess ich des Gedankens Thore, + Und warf die Schlssel weiser Vorsicht weg, + Am Sternenhimmel, etc. + +LITERAL TRANSLATION + +Alas! for those who place their confidence on thee, against thee lean +the secure hut of their happiness, allured by thy hospitable form. +Suddenly, unexpectedly, in a moment still as night, there is a +fermentation in the treacherous gulf of fire; it discharges itself +with raging force, and away over all the plantations of men drives the +wild stream in frightful devastation.--WALLENSTEIN. Thou art +portraying thy father's heart; as thou describest, even so is it +shaped in his entrails, in this black hypocrite's breast. O, the art +of hell has deceived me! The Abyss sent up to me the most spotted of +the spirits, the most skilful in lies, and placed him as a friend by +my side. Who may withstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to +my bosom, with my heart's blood I nourished him; he sucked himself +glutfull at the breasts of my love. I never harbored evil toward him; +wide open did I leave the door of my thoughts; I threw away the key of +wise foresight. In the starry heaven, etc.--We find a difficulty in +believing this to have been written by Schiller.] + +[Footnote 29: + This is a poor and inadequate translation of the affectionate simplicity + of the original-- + + Sie alle waren Fremdlinge; _Du_ warst + Das Kind des Hauses. + +Indeed the whole speech is in the best style of Massinger. _O si sic +omnia!_] + +[Footnote 30: It appears that the account of his conversion being +caused by such a fall, and other stories of his juvenile character, +are not well authenticated.] + +[Footnote 31: We doubt the propriety of putting so blasphemous a +statement in the mouth of any character.--T.] + +[Footnote 32: This soliloquy, which, according to the former +arrangement; constituted the whole of Scene IX., and concluded the +Fourth Act, is omitted in all the printed German editions. It seems +probable that it existed in the original manuscript from which Mr. +Coleridge translated.--Ed.] + +[Footnote 33: The soliloquy of Thekla consists in the original of +six-and-twenty lines, twenty of which are in rhymes of irregular +recurrence. I thought it prudent to abridge it. Indeed the whole scene +between Thekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps have been omitted +without injury to the play.--C.] + +[Footnote 34: These four lines are expressed in the original with +exquisite felicity-- + + Am Himmel ist geschftige Bewegung. + Des Thurmes Fahne jagt der Wind, schnell geht + Der Wolken Zug, die _Mondessichel wankt_, + Und durch die Nacht zuckt ungewisse Helle. + +The word "moon-sickle," reminds me of a passage in Harris, as quoted +by Johnson, under the word "falcated." "The enlightened part of the +moon appears in the form of a sickle or reaping-hook, which is while +she is moving from the conjunction to the opposition, or from the new +moon to the full: but from full to a new again, the enlightened part +appears gibbous, and the dark _falcated_." + +The words "wanken" and "schweben" are not easily translated. The +English words, by which we attempt to render them, are either vulgar +or pedantic, or not of sufficiently general application. So "der +Wolken Zug"--literally, The Draft, the Procession of clouds; +freely--The Masses of the Clouds sweep onward in swift _stream_.] + +[Footnote 35: A very inadequate translation of the original-- + + Verschmerzen werd' ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich, + Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch! + + LITERALLY. + + I shall _grieve down_ this blow, of that I'm conscious: + What does not man grieve down?] + + * * * * * + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO WILLIAM TELL + +BY WILLIAM H. CARRUTH, PH.D. + +Professor of Comparative Literature, Leland Stanford University + + +William Tell is the last complete drama written by Schiller, finished +February 18, 1804, in the author's forty-fifth year and something over +a year before his death. After this he completed only a pageant, _The +Homage of the Arts_, although he was occupied with many plans for +other plays, including _Demetrius_, founded on the career of the +Russian pretender of this name, of which he left the first act. +_William Tell_ is the last of Schiller's five great dramas, a series +beginning with _Wallenstein_, written within nine years, constituting, +along with his ballads and many other poems, the work of what is +called his "third period." This period was preceded by Schiller's +chief prose works and the historical and philosophical studies +preparatory thereto, together with considerable reading of Greek and +English classics, notably Homer and Shakespeare. The influence of his +historical and critical studies and of this reading is evident in the +dramas: _Wallenstein, Maria Stuart, The Maid of Orleans, The Bride of +Messina, William Tell_. But of these, _William Tell_ stands apart in +several ways. + +For all of them Schiller made careful preliminary studies, but for +none in such detail as for _Tell_. He had not only a remote historical +material to deal with, but also a land and customs which he had never +seen and which nevertheless he wished to present with great fidelity. +His chief source was the Swiss chronicler Tschudi, of the sixteenth +century, from whom he took not only the main features of his action, +but many touches of scenery and much actual phraseology. In addition +he studied the Swiss historian Johannes von Mueller, maps and natural +histories of Switzerland, and received also some oral notes from +Goethe, to whom, in fact, he owed the original suggestion of +dramatizing the story of William Tell. + +Unlike the other dramas of Schiller's last period, _William Tell_ has +no plot in the technical dramatic sense. There is no snare of +circumstances laid which forces a hero, after vain attempts to elude +or unloose it, to tear his way out at the cost of more or less +innocent lives. We see the representatives of three small, +freedom-loving democracies pushed beyond endurance by the outrages of +tyranny, pledging mutual support in resisting these encroachments upon +their liberties, and carrying out a successful resistance, aided by +the wholly fortuitous assassination of the tyrannical emperor. We see, +as a single instance of these oppressions, the arrogant caprice of the +bailiff Gessler in demanding homage to the Austrian hat, his jealousy +of the freeman Tell expressed in imposing as a penalty for neglected +obeisance the shooting of an apple from his little son's head, the +successful meeting of this test, and in turn Tell's vengeance through +the exercise of this same prowess in shooting Gessler as he rides home +through the Hohle Gasse. Mingled with these elements we see the +patriotic support of the common people by a native noblewoman, Bertha +von Brunneck, and her successful effort to win to this cause, through +his love for her, the young Baron von Rudenz, whose uncle +Attinghausen, always loyal to his people, hears in dying the news of +his nephew's conversion, while with his last breath he prophesies the +triumph of liberty. These three threads are woven into a single +pattern through the element of the common cause. This is the unity of +the action, which many critics have found wanting in the play. +Moreover these three plans of action coperate, if not by deliberate +foresight, yet by coincidence of time and purpose, and in some measure +by common personages. + +The theme of _William Tell_ had been used as early as the sixteenth +century in one of the early popular pageants with which the modern +German drama begins. These pageants occupied the whole of several days +in presentation and employed, including all supernumeraries, as high +as three hundred people. Schiller knew the old Tell Play and imbibed +something of its spirit. He uses masses of populace in _William Tell_ +as in no other of his plays except the _Camp_ of the _Wallenstein_ +trilogy. It may be that the influence of the old popular play together +with the nature of his material led him to dispense here with the +unity of action, the plot, and the expression of tragic guilt, which +may be found in all his other later plays. + +Along with keen appreciation, such as A.W. Schlegel's comment: "Imbued +with the poetry of history, with a treatment true to nature and +genuine, and, considering the poet's unfamiliarity with the country, +astonishingly correct in local color," _William Tell_ met from the +first much adverse criticism. This applied first of all to the +looseness of connection already cited between the various elements of +the action, and further, to the supposed superfluousness of the +Parricide episode in the Fifth Act, to the alleged unnaturalness of +Tell's long speeches and to the ignoble nature of his assault upon +Gessler from ambush. The last was given the poet in the legend of +Tell, which in general he took over with pious reverence as authentic +history. The Parricide episode was introduced, partly because it was +actually there in history and helped to complete the victory of the +peasants' cause, partly in order to give a better color to Tell's own +act, as being less prompted by selfish considerations. The criticism +of Tell's speeches, whether his pithy, epigrammatic sentences in Act +I, Scenes 1 and 3, and elsewhere, or his long monologue in Act IV, +Scene 3, applies to the whole constitution of the conventional stage +with just as much validity against Shakespeare's _Julius Csar_ and +_Hamlet_ as against _William Tell_. True, it is not plausible that +Tell recited 100 lines of beautiful poetry while lying in wait for +Gessler; neither is it likely that Prince Hamlet talked to himself in +pentameters. + +In general this play is more objective than Schiller's other plays, +and this was a quality which he admired in Goethe's work and strove +for in his own. Despite the technical criticisms, we find that the +play is filled with beautiful descriptions and noble sentiments nobly +expressed. On the stage most of the scenes are exceedingly fascinating +and effective. These beauties are quite sufficient to hide the lack of +unity, and the total effect with the majority of the people is a high +esthetic and ethical gratification. The play has remained one of the +most popular pieces on the German stage and has had an incalculable +effect in the cultivation of national feeling. + + * * * * * + + + +WILLIAM TELL + + +DRAMATIS PERSON + + +HERMANN GESSLER, _Governor of Schwytz and Uri_. + +WERNER, _Baron of Attinghausen, free noble of Switzerland_. + +ULRICH VON RUDENZ, _his Nephew_. + +WERNER STAUFFACHER, } +CONRAD HUNN, } +HANS AUF DER MAUER, } +JORG IM HOFE, } _People of Schwytz_. +ULRICH DER SCHMIDT, } +JOST VON WEILER, } +ITEL REDING, } + +WALTER FRST, +WILLIAM TELL, } +RSSELMANN, _the Priest_,} +PETERMANN, _Sacristan_, } _of Uri_. +KUONI, _Herdsman_, } +WERNI, _Huntsman_, } +RUODI, _Fisherman_, } + +ARNOLD OF MELCHTHAL, +CONRAD BAUMGARTEN, } +MEYER VON SARNEN, } +STRUTH VON WINKELRIED, } _of Unterwald_. +KLAUS VON DER FLUE, } +BURKHART AM BUHEL, } +ARNOLD VON SEWA, } + +PFEIFFER OF LUCERNE. + +KUNZ OF GERSAU. + +JENNI, _Fisherman's son_. + +SEPPI, _Herdsman's son_. + +GERTRUDE, _Stauffacher's wife_. + +HEDWIG, _wife of Tell, daughter of Frst_. + +BERTHA OF BRUNECK, _a rich heiress_. + +ARMGART, } +MECHTHILD, } +ELSBETH, } _Peasant women_. +HILDEGARD, } + +WALTER, } _Tell's Sons_. +WILLIAM, } + +FRIESSHARDT, } _Soldiers_. +LEUTHOLD, } + +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, _Gessler's master of the horse_. + +JOHANNES PARRICIDA, _Duke of Suabia_. + +STUSSI, _Overseer_. + +THE MAYOR OF URI. + +A COURIER. + +MASTER STONEMASON, COMPANION AND WORKMEN. + +TASKMASTER. + +A CRIER. + +MONKS OF THE ORDER OF CHARITY. + +HORSEMEN OF GESSLER AND LANDENDERG. + +MANY PEASANTS; MEN AND WOMEN FROM THE WALDSTETTEN. + + +WILLIAM TELL (1804)[36] + +TRANSLATED BY SIR THEODORE MARTIN, K.C.B, LL.D. + + + +ACT I + +SCENE I + +_A high rocky shore of the lake of Lucerne opposite Schwytz. +The lake makes a bend into the land; a hut stands at a short +distance from the shore; the fisher boy is rowing about in +his boat. Beyond the lake are seen the green meadows, the +hamlets and farms of Schwytz, lying in the clear sunshine. +On the left are observed the peaks of the Hacken, surrounded +with clouds; to the right, and in the remote distance, +appear the Glaciers. The Ranz des Vaches, and the tinkling +of cattle bells, continue for some time after the rising of +the curtain._ + + +FISHER BOY (_sings in his boat_) +_Melody of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + The smile-dimpled lake woo'd to bathe in its deep, + A boy on its green shore had laid him to sleep; + Then heard he a melody + Floating along, + Sweet as the notes + Of an angel's song. + And as thrilling with pleasure he wakes from his rest, + The waters are rippling over his breast; + And a voice from the deep cries, + "With me thou must go, + I charm the young shepherd, + I lure him below." + + HERDSMAN (_on the mountains_) + _Air--Variation of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + Farewell, ye green meadows, + Farewell, sunny shore, + The herdsman must leave you, + The summer is o'er. + We go to the hills, but you'll see us again, + When the cuckoo calls, and the merry birds sing, + When the flowers bloom afresh in glade and in glen, + And the brooks sparkle bright in the sunshine of Spring. + Farewell, ye green meadows, + Farewell, sunny shore, + The herdsman must leave you, + The summer is o'er. + + CHAMOIS HUNTER (_appearing on the top of a cliff_) + _Second Variation of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + On the heights peals the thunder, and trembles the bridge, + The huntsman bounds on by the dizzying ridge. + Undaunted he hies him + O'er ice-covered wild, + Where leaf never budded, + Nor Spring ever smiled; + And beneath him an ocean of mist, where his eye + No longer the dwellings of man can espy; + Through the parting clouds only + The earth can be seen; + Far down 'neath the vapor + The meadows of green. + +[_A change comes over the landscape. A rumbling, cracking +noise is heard among the mountains. Shadows of clouds sweep +across the scene_.] + +[RUODI, _the fisherman, comes out of his cottage_. WERNI, +_the huntsman, descends from the rocks_. KUONI, _the +shepherd, enters, with a milkpail on his shoulders, +followed by_ SEPPI, _his assistant_.] + +RUODI. + +Come, Jenni, bustle, get the boat on shore. +The grizzly Vale-King[37] comes, the Glaciers moan, +The Mytenstein[38] is drawing on his hood, +And from the Stormcleft chilly blows the wind; +The storm will burst, before we know what's what. + +KUONI. + +'Twill rain ere long; my sheep browse eagerly, +And Watcher there is scraping up the earth. + +WERNI. + +The fish are leaping, and the water-hen +Keeps diving up and down. A storm is brewing. + +KUONI. (_to his boy_). + +Look, Seppi, if the beasts be all in sight. + +SEPPI. + +There goes brown Liesel, I can hear her bells. + +KUONI. + +Then all are safe; she ever ranges farthest. + +RUODI. + +You've a fine chime of bells there, master herdsman. + +WERNI. + +And likely cattle, too. Are they your own? + +KUONI. + +I'm not so rich. They are the noble lord's +Of Attinghaus, and told off to my care. + +RUODI. + +How gracefully yon heifer bears her ribbon! + +KUONI. + +Ay, well she knows she's leader of the herd, +And, take it from her, she'd refuse to feed. + +RUODI. + +You're joking now. A beast devoid of reason-- + +WERNI. + +Easily said. But beasts have reason, too-- +And that we know, we chamois-hunters, well. +They never turn to feed--sagacious creatures! +Till they have placed a sentinel ahead, +Who pricks his ears whenever we approach, +And gives alarm with clear and piercing pipe. + +RUODI. (_to the shepherd_). + +Are you for home? + +KUONI. + + The Alp is grazed quite bare. + +WERNI. + +A safe return, my friend! + +KUONI. + + The same to you! +Men come not always back from tracks like yours. + +RUODI. + +But who comes here, running at topmost speed? + +WERNI. + +I know the man; 'tis Baumgart of Alzellen. + +KONRAD BAUMGARTEN (_rushing in breathless_). + +For God's sake, ferryman, your boat! + +RUODI. + + How now? +Why all this haste? + +BAUM. + + Cast off! My life's at stake! +Set me across! + +KUONI. + + Why, what's the matter, friend? + +WERNI. + +Who are pursuing you? First tell us that. + +BAUM. (_to the fisherman_). + +Quick, quick, man, quick! they're close upon my heels! +It is the Viceroy's men are after me; +If they should overtake me, I am lost. + +RUODI. + +Why are the troopers in pursuit of you? + +BAUM. + +First make me safe and then I'll tell you all. + +WERNI. + +There's blood upon your garments--how is, this? + +BAUM. + +The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg-- + +KUONI. + +How! What! The Wolfshot?[39] Is it he pursues you? + +BAUM. + +He'll ne'er hurt man again; I've settled him. + +ALL (_starting back_). + +Now, God forgive you, what is this you've done! + +BAUM. + +What every free man in my place had done. +Mine own good household right I have enforced +'Gainst him that would have wrong'd my wife--my honor. + +KUONI. + +How! Wronged you in your honor, did he so? + +BAUM. + +That he did not fulfil his foul desire, +Is due to God and to my trusty axe. + +WERNI. + +And you have cleft his skull then, with your axe? + +KUONI. + +O, tell us all! You've time enough, and more, +While he is getting out the boat there from the beach. + +BAUM. + +When I was in the forest felling timber, +My wife came running out in mortal fear. +"The Seneschal," she said, "was in my house, +Had order'd her to get a bath prepared, +And thereupon had ta'en unseemly freedoms, +From which she rid herself, and flew to me." +Arm'd as I was, I sought him, and my axe +Has given his bath a bloody benison. + +WERNI. + +And you did well; no man can blame the deed. + +KUONi. + +The tyrant! Now he has his just reward! +We men of Unterwald have owed it long. + +BAUM. + +The deed got wind, and now they're in pursuit. +Heavens! whilst we speak, the time is flying fast. + + [_It begins to thunder_.] + +KUONI. + +Quick, ferryman, and set the good man over. + +RUODI. + +Impossible! a storm is close at hand, +Wait till it pass! You must. + +BAUM. + + Almighty heavens! +I cannot wait; the least delay is death. + +KUONI (_to the fisherman_). + +Push out--God with you! We should help our neighbors; +The like misfortune may betide us all. + + [_Thunder and the roaring of the wind_.] + +RUODI. + +The south wind's up![40] See how the lake is rising! +I cannot steer against both wind and wave. + +BAUM. (_clasping him by the knees_). + +God so help you as now you pity me! + +WERNI. + +His life's at stake. Have pity on him, man! + +KUONI. + + He is a father: has a wife and children. + + [_Repeated peals of thunder_.] + +RUODI. + +What! and have I not, then, a life to lose, +A wife and child at home as well as he? +See how the breakers foam, and toss, and whirl, +And the lake eddies up from all its depths! +Right gladly would I save the worthy man, +But 'tis impossible, as you must see. + +BAUM. (_still kneeling_). + +Then must I fall into the tyrant's hands, +And with the shore of safety close in sight! +Yonder it lies! My eyes can see it clear, +My very voice can echo to its shores. +There is the boat to carry me across, +Yet must I lie here helpless and forlorn. + +KUONI. + +Look! who comes here? + +RUODI. + + 'Tis Tell, ay, Tell, of Brglen.[41] + + [_Enter_ TELL _with a crossbow_.] + +TELL. + +What man is he that here implores for aid? + +KUONI. + +He is from Alzellen, and to guard his honor +From touch of foulest shame, has slain the Wolf-shot, +The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg. +The Viceroy's troopers are upon his heels; +He begs the ferryman to take him over, +But frightened at the storm he says he won't. + +RUODI. + +Well, there is Tell can steer as well as I, +He'll be my judge, if it be possible. + +[_Violent peals of thunder--the lake becomes more +tempestuous_.] + +Am I to plunge into the jaws of hell? +I should be mad to dare the desperate act. + +TELL. + +The brave man thinks upon himself the last. +Put trust in God, and help him in his need! + +RUODI. + +Safe in the port, 'tis easy to advise. +There is the boat, and there the lake! Try you! + +TELL. + +The lake may pity, but the Viceroy never. +Come, risk it, man! + +SHEPHERD _and_ HUNTSMAN. + + O save him! save him! save him! + +RUODI. + + Though 'twere my brother, or my darling child, +I would not go. 'Tis Simon and Jude's day; +The lake is up, and calling for its victim. + +TELL. + +Nought's to be done with idle talking here. +Each moment's precious; the man must be help'd; +Say, boatman, will you venture? + +RUODI. + + No; not I. + +TELL. + +In God's name, then, give me the boat! I will, +With my poor strength, see what is to be done! + +KUONI. + +Ha, gallant Tell! + +WERNI. + + That's like a huntsman true. + +BAUM. + +You are my angel, my preserver, Tell. + +TELL. + +I may preserve you from the Viceroy's power, +But from the tempest's rage another must. +Yet better 'tis you fall into God's hands, +Than into those of men. + + [_To the herdsman_.] + + Herdsman, do thou +Console my wife if I should come to grief. +I could not choose but do as I have done. + + [_He leaps into the boat_.] + +KUONI (_to the fisherman_). + +A pretty man to keep a ferry, truly! +What Tell could risk, you dared not venture on. + +RUODI. + +Far better men would never cope with Tell. +There's no two such as he 'mong all our hills. + +WERNI (_who has ascended a rock_). + +Now he is off. God help thee, gallant sailor! +Look how the little boat reels on the waves! + +KUONI. (_on the shore_). + +There! they have swept clean over it. And now +'Tis out of sight. Yet stay, there 'tis again! +Stoutly he stems the breakers, noble fellow! + +SEPPI. + +Here come the troopers hard as they can ride! + +KUONI. + +Heavens! so they do! Why, that was help, indeed. + + [_Enter a troop of horsemen_.] + +1ST H. + +Give up the murderer! You have him here! + +2D H. + +This way he came! 'Tis useless to conceal him! + +RUODI _and_ KUONI. + +Whom do you mean? + +1ST H. (_discovering the boat_). + + The devil! What do I see? + +WERNI (_from above_). + +Is't he in yonder boat ye seek? Ride on, +If you lay to, you may o'ertake him yet. + +2D H. + +Curse on you, he's escaped! + +1ST H. (_to the shepherd and fisherman_). + + You help'd him off, +And you shall pay for it! Fall on their herds! +Down with the cottage! burn it! beat it down! + + [_They rush off._] + +SEPPI (_hurrying after them_). + +Oh my poor lambs! + +KUONI (_following him_). + +Unhappy me, my herds! + +WERNI. + +The tyrants! + +RUODI (_wringing his hands_). + Righteous Heaven! Oh, when will come +Deliverance to this doom-devoted land? + + [_Exeunt severally_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_A lime tree in front of_ STAUFFACHER's _house at Steinen, +in Schwytz, upon the public road, near a bridge_. + +WERNER STAUFFACHER, _and_ PFEIFFER, _of Lucerne, enter into +conversation_. + +PFEIFF. + +Ay, ay, friend Stauffacher, as I have said, +Swear not to Austria, if you can help it. +Hold by the Empire stoutly as of yore, +And God preserve you in your ancient freedom! + + [_Presses his hand warmly and is going_.] + +STAUFF. + +Wait till my mistress comes. Now do! You are +My guest in Schwytz--I in Lucerne am yours. + +PFEIFF. + +Thanks! thanks! But I must reach Gersau today. +Whatever grievances your rulers' pride +And grasping avarice may yet inflict, +Bear them in patience--soon a change may come. +Another Emperor may mount the throne. +But Austria's once, and you are hers forever. + + [_Exit_.] + +[STAUFFACHER _sits down sorrowfully upon a bench under the +lime tree. Gertrude, his wife, enters, and finds him in this +posture. She places herself near him, and looks at him for +some time in silence_.] + +GERT. + +So sad, my love! I scarcely know thee now. +For many a day in silence I have mark'd +A moody sorrow furrowing thy brow. +Some silent grief is weighing on thy heart. +Trust it to me. I am thy faithful wife, +And I demand my half of all thy cares. + + [STAUFFACHER _gives her his hand and is silent_.] + +Tell me what can oppress thy spirits thus? +Thy toil is blest--the world goes well with thee-- +Our barns are full--our cattle, many a score; +Our handsome team of well-fed horses, too, +Brought from the mountain pastures safely home, +To winter in their comfortable stalls. +There stands thy house--no nobleman's more fair! +'Tis newly built with timber of the best, +All grooved and fitted with the nicest skill; +Its many glistening windows tell of comfort! +'Tis quarter'd o'er with scutcheons of all hues, +And proverbs sage, which passing travelers +Linger to read and ponder o'er their meaning. + +STAUFF. + +The house is strongly built, and handsomely, +But, ah! the ground on which we built it quakes. + +GERT. + +Tell me, dear Werner, what you mean by that? + +STAUFF. + +No later gone than yesterday, I sat +Beneath this linden, thinking with delight, +How fairly all was finished, when from Kssnacht +The Viceroy and his men came riding by. +Before this house he halted in surprise: +At once I rose, and, as beseemed his rank, +Advanced respectfully to greet the lord +To whom the Emperor delegates his power, +As judge supreme within our Canton here. +"Who is the owner of this house?" he asked, +With mischief in his thoughts, for well he knew. +With prompt decision, thus I answered him: +"The Emperor, your grace--my lord and yours, +And held by me in fief." On this he answered, +"I am the Emperor's vice-regent here, +And will not that each peasant churl should build +At his own pleasure, bearing him as freely +As though he were the master in the land. +I shall make bold to put a stop to this!" +So saying, he, with menaces, rode off, +And left me musing with a heavy heart +On the fell purpose that his words betray'd. + +GERT. + +My own dear lord and husband! Wilt thou take +A word of honest counsel from thy wife? +I boast to be the noble Iberg's child, +A man of wide experience. Many a time, +As we sat spinning in the winter nights, +My sisters and myself, the people's chiefs +Were wont to gather round our father's hearth, +To read the old imperial charters, and +To hold sage converse on the country's weal. +Then heedfully I listened, marking well +What now the wise man thought, the good man wished, +And garner'd up their wisdom in my heart. +Hear then, and mark me well; for thou wilt see, +I long have known the grief that weighs thee down. +The Viceroy hates thee, fain would injure thee, +For thou past cross'd his wish to bend the Swiss +In homage to this upstart house of princes, +And kept them staunch, like their good sires of old, +In true allegiance to the Empire. Say, +Is't not so, Werner? Tell me, am I wrong? + +STAUFF. + +'Tis even so. For this doth Gessler hate me. + +GERT. + +He burns with envy, too, to see thee living +Happy and free on thine ancestral soil, +For he is landless. From the Emperor's self +Thou hold'st in fief the lands thy fathers left thee. +There's not a prince i' the Empire that can show +A better title to his heritage; +For thou hast over thee no lord but one, +And he the mightiest of all Christian kings. +Gessler, we know, is but a younger son, +His only wealth the knightly cloak he wears; +He therefore views an honest man's good fortune +With a malignant and a jealous eye. +Long has he sworn to compass thy destruction. +As yet thou art uninjured. Wilt thou wait +Till he may safely give his malice vent? +A wise man would anticipate the blow. + +STAUFF. + +What's to be done? + +[Illustration: STAUFFACHER AND HIS WIFE GERTRUDE As +performed at the Royal Theatre, Dresden, 1906.] + +GERT. + + Now hear what I advise. +Thou knowest well, how here with us in Schwytz +All worthy men are groaning underneath +This Gessler's grasping, grinding tyranny. +Doubt not the men of Unterwald as well, +And Uri, too, are chafing like ourselves, +At this oppressive and heart-wearying yoke. +For there, across the lake, the Landenberg +Wields the same iron rule as Gessler here-- +No fishing-boat comes over to our side, +But brings the tidings of some new encroachment, +Some fresh outrage, more grievous than the last. +Then it were well that some of you--true men-- +Men sound at heart, should secretly devise, +How best to shake this hateful thraldom off. +Full sure I am that God would not desert you, +But lend His favor to the righteous cause. +Hast thou no friend in Uri, one to whom +Thou frankly may'st unbosom all thy thoughts? + +STAUFF. + +I know full many a gallant fellow there, +And nobles, too--great men, of high repute, +In whom I can repose unbounded trust. + + [_Rising_.] + +Wife! What a storm of wild and perilous thoughts +Hast thou stirr'd up within my tranquil breast! +The darkest musings of my bosom thou +Hast dragg'd to light, and placed them full before me; +And what I scarce dared harbor e'en in thought, +Thou speakest plainly out with fearless tongue. +But has thou weigh'd well what thou urgest thus? +Discord will come, and the fierce clang of arms, +To scare this valley's long unbroken peace, +If we, a feeble shepherd race, shall dare +Him to the fight that lords it o'er the world. +Ev'n now they only wait some fair pretext +For setting loose their savage warrior hordes, +To scourge and ravage this devoted land, +To lord it o'er us with the victor's rights, +And, 'neath the show of lawful chastisement, +Despoil us of our chartered liberties. + +GERT. + +You, too, are men; can wield a battle axe +As well as they. God ne'er deserts the brave. + +STAUFF. + +Oh wife! a horrid, ruthless fiend is war, +That smites at once the shepherd and his flock. + +GERT. + + Whate'er great Heaven inflicts, we must endure; +But wrong is what no noble heart will bear. + +STAUFF. + +This house--thy pride--war, unrelenting war +Will burn it down. + +GERT. + + And did I think this heart +Enslaved and fettered to the things of earth, +With my own hand I'd hurl the kindling torch. + +STAUFF. + +Thou hast faith in human kindness, wife; but war +Spares not the tender infant in its cradle. + +GERT. + +There is a Friend to innocence in heaven. +Send your gaze forward, Werner--not behind. + +STAUFF. + +We men may die like men, with sword in hand; +But oh, what fate, my Gertrude, may be thine? + +GERT. + +None are so weak, but one last choice is left. +A spring from yonder bridge and I am free! + +STAUFF. (_embracing her_). + +Well may he fight for hearth and home, that clasps +A heart so rare as thine against his own! +What are the host of Emperors to him? +Gertrude, farewell! I will to Uri straight. +There lives my worthy comrade, Walter Frst; +His thoughts and mine upon these times are one. +There, too, resides the noble Banneret +Of Attinghaus. High though of blood he be, +He loves the people, honors their old customs. +With both of these I will take counsel how +To rid us bravely of our country's foe. +Farewell! and while I am away, bear thou +A watchful eye in management at home. +The pilgrim journeying to the house of God, +And holy friar, collecting for his cloister, +To these give liberally from purse and garner. +Stauffacher's house would not be hid. Right out +Upon the public way it stands, and offers +To all that pass a hospitable roof. + +[_While they are retiring_, TELL _enters with_ BAUMGARTEN.] + +TELL. + +Now, then, you have no further need of me. +Enter yon house. 'Tis Werner Stauffacher's, +A man that is a father to distress. +See, there he is, himself! Come, follow me. + + [_They retire up. Scene changes_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_A common near Altdorf. On an eminence in the background a +Castle in progress of erection, and so far advanced that the +outline of the whole may be distinguished. The back part is +finished: men are working at the front. Scaffolding, on +which the workmen are going up and down. A slater is seen +upon the highest part of the roof. All is bustle and +activity._ + +TASKMASTER, MASON, WORKMAN _and_ LABORERS + +TASK. (_with a stick, urging on the workmen_). + +Up, up! You've rested long enough. To work! +The stones here! Now the mortar, and the lime! +And let his lordship see the work advanced, +When next he comes. These fellows crawl like snails! + + [_To two laborers, with loads_.] + +What! call ye that a load? Go, double it. +Is this the way ye earn your wages, laggards? + +1ST. W. + +'Tis very hard that we must bear the stones, +To make a keep and dungeon for ourselves! + +TASK. + +What's that you mutter? 'Tis a worthless race, +For nothing fit but just to milk their cows, +And saunter idly up and down the hills. + +OLD MAN (_sinks down exhausted_). + +I can no more. + +TASK. (_shaking him_). + + Up, up, old man, to work! + +1ST. W. + +Have you no bowels of compassion, thus +To press so hard upon a poor old man +That scarce can drag his feeble limbs along? + +MASTER MASON _and_ WORKMEN. + +Shame, shame upon you--shame! It cries to heaven. + +TASK. + +Mind your own business. I but do my duty. + +1ST W. + +Pray, Master, what's to be the name of this +Same castle, when 'tis built? + +TASK. + + The Keep of Uri; +For by it we shall keep you in subjection. + +WORK. + +The Keep of Uri? + +TASK. + + Well, why laugh at that? + +2D W. + +Keep Uri, will you, with this paltry place! + +1ST W. + +How many molehills such as that must first +Be piled up each on each, ere you make +A mountain equal to the least in Uri? + + [TASKMASTER _retires up the stage_.] + +MAS. M. + +I'll drown the mallet in the deepest lake, +That served my hand on this accursed pile. + + [_Enter_ TELL _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +STAUFF. + +O, that I had not lived to see this sight! + +TELL. + +Here 'tis not good to be. Let us proceed. + +STAUFF. + +Am I in Uri--Uri, freedom's home? + +MAS. M. + +O, Sir, if you could only see the vaults +Beneath these towers. The man that tenants them +Will ne'er hear cock crow more. + +STAUFF. + + O God! O God! + +MASON. + +Look at these ramparts and these buttresses, +That seem as they were built to last forever. + +TELL. + +What hands have built, my friend, hands can destroy. + + [_Pointing to the mountains_.] + +_That_ home of freedom God hath built for us. + +[_A drum is heard. People enter bearing a cap upon a pole, +followed by a crier. Women and children thronging +tumultuously after them_.] + +1ST W. + +What means the drum? Give heed! + +MASON. + + Why, here's a mumming! +And look, the cap--what can they mean by that? + +CRIER. + +In the Emperor's name, give ear! + +WORK. + + Hush! silence! hush! + +CRIER. + +Ye men of Uri, ye do see this cap! +It will be set upon a lofty pole +In Altdorf, in the market place: and this +Is the Lord Governor's good will and pleasure; +The cap shall have like honor as himself, +All do it reverence with bended knee, +And head uncovered; thus the King will know +Who are his true and loyal subjects here; +His life and goods are forfeit to the crown +That shall refuse obedience to the order. + +[_The people burst out into laughter. The drum beats and the +procession passes on_.] + +1ST W. + +A strange device to fall upon indeed: +Do reverence to a cap! A pretty farce! +Heard ever mortal anything like this? + +MAS. M. + +Down to a cap on bended knee, forsooth! +Rare jesting this with men of sober sense! + +1ST W. + +Nay, an it were the imperial crown! A cap! +Merely the cap of Austria! I've seen it +Hanging above the throne in Gessler's hall. + +MASON. + +The cap of Austria? Mark that! A snare +To get us into Austria's power, by Heaven! + +WORK. + +No freeborn man will stoop to such disgrace. + +MAS. M. + +Come--to our comrades, and advise with them; + + [_They retire up_.] + +TELL (_to_ STAUFFACHER). + +You see how matters stand! Farewell, my friend! + +STAUFF. + +Whither away? Oh, leave us not so soon. + +TELL. + +They look for me at home. So fare ye well. + +STAUFF. + +My heart's so full, and has so much to tell you. + +TELL. + +Words will not make a heart that's heavy light. + +STAUFF. + +Yet words may possibly conduct to deeds. + +TELL. + +Endure in silence! We can do no more. + +STAUFF. + +But shall we bear what is not to be borne? + +TELL. + +Impetuous rulers have the shortest reigns. +When the fierce south wind rises from his chasms, +Men cover up their fires, the ships in haste +Make for the harbor, and the mighty spirit +Sweeps o'er the earth, and leaves no trace behind. +Let every man live quietly at home; +Peace to the peaceful rarely is denied. + +STAUFF. + +And is it thus you view our grievances? + +TELL. + +The serpent stings not till it is provoked; +Let them alone; they'll weary of themselves, +When they shall see we are not to be roused. + +STAUFF. + +Much might be done--did we stand fast together. + +TELL. + +When the ship founders, he will best escape +Who seeks no other's safety but his own. + +STAUFF. + +And you desert the common cause so coldly? + +TELL. + +A man can safely count but on himself! + +STAUFF. + + Nay, even the weak grow strong by union. + +TELL. + +But the strong man is strongest when alone. + +STAUFF. + +So, then, your country cannot count on you, +If in despair she rise against her foes. + +TELL. + +Tell rescues the lost sheep from yawning gulfs: +Is he a man, then, to desert his friends? +Yet, whatsoe'er you do, spare me from council! +I was not born to ponder and select; +But when your course of action is resolved, +Then call on Tell: you shall not find him fail. + +[_Exeunt severally. A sudden tumult is heard around the +scaffolding_.] + +MASON (_running in_). + +What's wrong? + +FIRST WORKMAN (_running forward_). + + The slater's fallen from the roof. + +BERTHA (_rushing in_). + +Heavens! Is he dashed to pieces? Save him, help! +If help be possible, save him! Here is gold. + + [_Throws her trinkets among the people_.] + +MASON. + +Hence with your gold--your universal charm, +And remedy for ill! When you have torn +Fathers from children, husbands from their wives, +And scattered woe and wail throughout the land, +You think with gold to compensate for all. +Hence! Till we saw you, we were happy men; +With you came misery and dark despair. + +BERTHA (_to the_ TASKMASTER, _who has returned_). + +Lives he? + + [TASKMASTER _shakes his head_.] + + Ill-omened towers, with curses built, +And doomed with curses to be tenanted! + + [_Exit_.] + + +SCENE IV + +_The house of_ WALTER FRST. WALTER FRST _and_ ARNOLD VON +MELCHTHAL _enter simultaneously at different sides_. + +MELCH. + +Good Walter Frst + +FRST. + + If we should be surprised! +Stay where you are. We are beset with spies. + +MELCH. + +Have you no news for me from Unterwald? +What of my father? 'Tis not to be borne +Thus to be pent up like a felon here! +What have I done so heinous that I must +Skulk here in hiding, like a murderer? +I only laid my staff across the fists +Of the pert varlet, when before my eyes, +By order of the governor, he tried +To drive away my handsome team of oxen. + +FRST. + +You are too rash by far. He did no more +Than what the governor had ordered him. +You had transgress'd, and therefore should have paid +The penalty, however hard, in silence. + +MELCH. + +Was I to brook the fellow's saucy gibe-- +"That if the peasant must have bread to eat, +Why, let him go and draw the plough himself?" +It cut me to the very soul to see +My oxen, noble creatures, when the knave +Unyoked them from the plough. As though they felt +The wrong, they lowed and butted with their horns. +On this I could contain myself no longer, +And, overcome by passion, struck him down. + +FRST. + +O, we old men can scarce command ourselves! +And can we wonder youth breaks out of bounds? + +MELCH. + +I'm only sorry for my father's sake! +To be away from him, that needs so much +My fostering care! The governor detests him, +Because, whene'er occasion served, he has +Stood stoutly up for right and liberty. +Therefore they'll bear him hard--the poor old man! +And there is none to shield him from their grip. +Come what come may, I must go home again. + +FRST. + +Compose yourself, and wait in patience till +We get some tidings o'er from Unterwald. +Away I away! I hear a knock! Perhaps +A message from the Viceroy! Get thee in! +You are not safe from Landenberger's[42] arm +In Uri, for these tyrants pull together. + +MELCH. + +They teach us Switzers what _we_ ought to do. + +FRST. + +Away! I'll call you when the coast is clear. + + [MELCHTHAL _retires_.] + +Unhappy youth! I dare not tell him all +The evil that my boding heart predicts! +Who's there? The door ne'er opens, but I look +For tidings of mishap. Suspicion lurks +With darkling treachery in every nook. +Even to our inmost rooms they force their way, +These myrmidons of power; and soon we'll need +To fasten bolts and bars upon our doors. + +[_He opens the door, and steps back in surprise as_ WERNER +STAUFFACHER _enters_.] + +What do I see? You, Werner? Now, by Heaven! +A valued guest, indeed. No man e'er set +His foot across this threshold, more esteem'd, +Welcome! thrice welcome, Werner, to my roof! +What brings you here? What seek you here in Uri? + +STAUFFACHER (_shakes_ FRST by _the hand_). + +The olden times and olden Switzerland. + +FRST. + +You bring them with you. See how glad I am, +My heart leaps at the very sight of you. +Sit down--sit down, and tell me how you left +Your charming wife, fair Gertrude? Iberg's child, +And clever as her father. Not a man +That wends from Germany, by Meinrad's Cell,[43] +To Italy, but praises far and wide +Your house's hospitality. But say, +Have you come here direct from Flelen, +And have you noticed nothing on your way, +Before you halted at my door? + +STAUFFACHER (_sits down_). + + I saw +A work in progress, as I came along, +I little thought to see--that likes me ill. + +FRST. + +O friend! you've lighted on my thought at once. + +STAUFF. + +Such things in Uri ne'er were known before. +Never was prison here in man's remembrance, +Nor ever any stronghold but the grave. + +FRST. + +You name it well. It is the grave of freedom. + +STAUFF. + +Friend, Walter Frst, I will be plain with you. +No idle curiosity it is +That brings me here, but heavy cares. I left +Thraldom at home, and thraldom meets me here. +Our wrongs, e'en now, are more than we can bear, +And who shall tell us where they are to end? +From eldest time the Switzer has been free, +Accustom'd only to the mildest rule. +Such things as now we suffer ne'er were known, +Since herdsman first drove cattle to the hills. + +FRST. + +Yes, our oppressions are unparallel'd! +Why, even our own good lord of Attinghaus, +Who lived in olden times, himself declares +They are no longer to be tamely borne. + +STAUFF. + +In Unterwalden yonder 'tis the same; +And bloody has the retribution been. +The imperial Seneschal, the Wolfshot, who +At Rossberg dwelt, long'd for forbidden fruit-- +Baumgarten's wife, that lives at Alzellen, +He tried to make a victim to his lust, +On which the husband slew him with his age. + +FRST. + +O, Heaven is just in all its judgments still! +Baumgarten, say you? A most worthy man. +Has he escaped, and is he safely hid? + +STAUFF. + +Your son-in-law conveyed him o'er the lake, +And he lies hidden in my house at Steinen. +He brought the tidings with him of a thing +That has been done at Sarnen, worse than all, +A thing to make the very heart run blood! + +FRST (_attentively_). + +Say on. What is it? + +STAUFF. + + There dwells in Melchthal, then, +Just as you enter by the road from Kerns, +An upright man, named Henry of the Halden, +A man of weight and influence in the Diet. + +FRST. + +Who knows him not? But what of him? Proceed! + +STAUFF. + +The Landenberg, to punish some offense +Committed by the old man's son, it seems, +Had given command to take the youth's best pair +Of oxen from his plough; on which the lad +Struck down the messenger and took to flight. + +FRST. + +But the old father--tell me, what of him? + +STAUFF. + +The Landenberg sent for him, and required +He should produce his son upon the spot; +And when the old man protested, and with truth, +That he knew nothing of the fugitive, +The tyrant call'd his torturers. + +FRST (_springs up and tries to lead him to the other side_). + + Hush, no more! + +STAUFFACHER (_with increasing warmth_). + +"And though thy son," he cried, "has 'scaped me now, +I have thee fast, and thou shalt feel my vengeance." +With that they flung the old man to the ground, +And plunged the pointed steel into his eyes. + +FRST. + +Merciful Heaven! + +MELCHTHAL (_rushing out_). + Into his eyes, his eyes? + +STAUFFACHER (_addresses himself in astonishment to_ WALTER +FRST). + +Who is this youth? + +MELCHTHAL (_grasping him convulsively_). + Into his eyes? Speak, speak! + +FRST. + +O, miserable hour! + +STAUFF. + +Who is it, tell me! + + [STAUFFACHER _makes a sign to him_.] + +It is his son! All-righteous Heaven! + +MELCH. + + And I +Must be from thence! What! into both his eyes? + +FRST. + +Be calm, be calm; and bear it like a man! + +MELCH. + +And all for me--for my mad wilful folly! +Blind, did you say? Quite blind--and both his eyes? + +STAUFF. + +Ev'n so. 'The fountain of his sight is quench'd, +He ne'er will see the blessed sunshine more. + +FRST. + +Oh, spare his anguish! + +MELCH. + +Never, never more! + +[_Presses his hands upon his eyes and is silent for some +moments: then turning from one to the other speaks in a +subdued tone, broken by sobs._] + +O the eye's light, of all the gifts of Heaven, +The dearest, best! From light all beings live-- +Each fair created thing--the very plants +Turn with a joyful transport to the light, +And he--he must drag on through all his days +In endless darkness! Never more for him +The sunny meads shall glow, the flow'rets bloom; +Nor shall he more behold the roseate tints +Of the iced mountain top! To die is nothing. +But to have life, and not have sight--oh, that +Is misery indeed! Why do you look +So piteously at me? I have two eyes, +Yet to my poor blind father can give neither! +No, not one gleam of that great sea of light, +That with its dazzling splendor floods my gaze. + +STAUFF. + +Ah, I must swell the measure of your grief, +Instead of soothing it. The worst, alas! +Remains to tell. They've stripp'd him of his all; +Naught have they left him, save his staff, on which, +Blind, and in rags, he moves from door to door. + +MELCH. + +Naught but his staff to the old eyeless man! +Stripp'd of his all--even of the light of day, +The common blessing of the meanest wretch? +Tell me no more of patience, of concealment! +Oh, what a base and coward thing am I, +That on mine own security I thought +And took no care of thine! Thy precious head +Left as a pledge within the tyrant's grasp! +Hence, craven-hearted prudence, hence! And all +My thoughts be vengeance, and the despot's blood! +I'll seek him straight--no power shall stay me now-- +And at his hands demand my father's eyes. +I'll beard him 'mid a thousand myrmidons! +What's life to me, if in his heart's best blood +I cool the fever of this mighty anguish. + + [_He is going_.] + +FRST. + +Stay, this is madness, Melchthal! What avails +Your single arm against his power? He sits +At Sarnen high within his lordly keep, +And, safe within its battlemented walls, +May laugh to scorn your unavailing rage. + +MELCH. + +And though he sat within the icy domes +Of yon far Schreckhorn--ay, or higher, where, +Veil'd since eternity, the Jungfrau soars, +Still to the tyrant would I make my way; +With twenty comrades minded like myself, +I'd lay his fastness level with the earth! +And if none follow me, and if you all, +In terror for your homesteads and your herds, +Bow in submission to the tyrant's yoke, +Round me I'll call the herdsmen on the hills, +And there beneath heaven's free and boundless roof, +Where men still feel as men, and hearts are true, +Proclaim aloud this foul enormity! + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FRST). + + +The measure's full--and are we then to wait +Till some extremity-- + +MELCH. + + Peace! What extremity +Remains for us to dread? What, when our eyes +No longer in their sockets are secure? +Heavens! Are we helpless? Wherefore did we learn +To bend the cross-bow--wield the battle-axe? +What living creature but in its despair, +Finds for itself a weapon of defence? +The baited stag will turn, and with the show +Of his dread antlers hold the hounds at bay; +The chamois drags the huntsman down th' abyss; +The very ox, the partner of man's toil, +The sharer of his roof, that meekly bends +The strength of his huge neck beneath the yoke, +Springs up, if he's provoked, whets his strong horn, +And tosses his tormentor to the clouds. + +FRST. + +If the three Cantons thought as we three do, +Something might, then, be done, with good effect. + +STAUFF. + +When Uri calls, when Unterwald replies, +Schwytz will be mindful of her ancient league.[44] + +MELCH. + +I've many friends in Unterwald, and none +That would not gladly venture life and limb, +If fairly back'd and aided by the rest. +Oh! sage and reverend fathers of this land, +Here do I stand before your riper years, +An unskill'd youth, who in the Diet must +Into respectful silence hush his voice. +Yet do not, for that I am young, and want +Experience, slight my counsel and my words. +'Tis not the wantonness of youthful blood +That fires my spirit; but a pang so deep +That e'en the flinty rocks must pity me. +You, too, are fathers, heads of families, +And you must wish to have a virtuous son, +To reverence your gray hairs, and shield your eyes +With pious and affectionate regard. +Do not, I pray, because in limb and fortune +You still are unassail'd, and still your eyes +Revolve undimm'd and sparkling in their spheres-- +Oh, do not, therefore, disregard our wrongs! +Above you, also, hangs the tyrant's sword. +You, too, have striven to alienate the land +From Austria. This was all my father's crime: +You share his guilt, and _may_ his punishment. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FRST). + +Do thou resolve! I am prepared to follow. + +FRST. + +First let us learn what steps the noble lords +Von Sillinen and Attinghaus propose. +Their names would rally thousands to the cause. + +MELCH. + +Is there a name within the Forest Mountains +That carries more respect than yours--and yours? +On names like these the people build their trust +In time of need--such names are household words. +Rich was your heritage of manly worth, +And richly have you added to its stores. +What need of nobles? Let us do the work +Ourselves. Yes, though we have to stand alone, +We shall be able to maintain our rights. + +STAUFF. + +The nobles' wrongs are not so great as ours. +The torrent, that lays waste the lower grounds, +Hath not ascended to the uplands yet. +But let them see the country once in arms, +They'll not refuse to lend a helping hand. + +FRST. + +Were there an umpire 'twixt ourselves and Austria, +Justice and law might then decide our quarrel. +But our oppressor is our Emperor too, +And judge supreme. 'Tis God must help us, then, +And our own arm! Be yours the task to rouse +The men of Schwytz; I'll rally friends in Uri. +But whom are we to send to Unterwald? + +MELCH. + +Thither send me. Whom should it more concern? + +FRST. + +No, Melchthal, no; you are my guest, and I +Must answer for your safety. + +MELCH. + + Let me go. +I know each forest track and mountain path; +Friends too, I'll find, be sure, on every hand, +To give me willing shelter from the foe. + +STAUFF. + +Nay, let him go; no traitors harbor there: +For tyranny is so abhorred in Unterwald, +No tools can there be found to work her will. +In the low valleys, too, the Alzeller +Will gain confederates, and rouse the country. + +MELCH. + +But how shall we communicate, and not +Awaken the suspicion of the tyrants? + +STAUFF. + +Might we not meet at Brunnen or at Treib, +Where merchant vessels with their cargoes come? + +FRST. + +We must not go so openly to work. +Hear my opinion. On the lake's left bank, +As we sail hence to Brunnen, right against +The Mytenstein, deep-hidden in the wood +A meadow lies, by shepherds called the Rootli, +Because the wood has been uprooted there. +'Tis where our Canton bound'ries verge on yours;-- + + [_To_ MELCHTHAL.] + +Your boat will carry you across from Schwytz. + + [_To_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Thither by lonely by-paths let us wend +At midnight, and deliberate o'er our plans. +Let each bring with him there ten trusty men, +All one at heart with us; and then we may +Consult together for the general weal, +And, with God's guidance, fix what next to do. + +STAUFF. + +So let it be. And now your true right hand! +Yours, too, young man! and as we now three men +Among ourselves thus knit our hands together +In all sincerity and truth, e'en so +Shall we three Cantons, too, together stand +In victory and defeat, in life and death. + +FRST _and_ MELCHTHAL. + +In life and death. + +[_They hold their hands clasped together for some moments in +silence_.] + +MELCH. + + Alas, my old blind father! +The day of freedom, that thou canst not see. +But thou shalt hear it, when from Alp to Alp +The beacon fires throw up their flaming signs, +And the proud castles of the tyrants fall, +Into thy cottage shall the Switzer burst, +Bear the glad tidings to thine ear, and o'er +Thy darken'd way shall Freedom's radiance pour. + + * * * * * + + + +ACT II + + +SCENE I + + +_The Mansion of the_ BARON of ATTINGHAUSEN. _A Gothic Hall, +decorated with escutcheons and helmets_. The BARON, _a +gray-headed man, eighty-five years old, tall and of a +commanding mien, clad in a furred pelisse, and leaning on a +staff tipped with chamois horn_. KUONI _and six hinds +standing round him with rakes and scythes_. ULRICH of RUDENZ +_enters in the costume of a Knight_. + + +RUDENZ. + +Uncle, I'm here! Your will? + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + First let me share, +After the ancient custom of our house, +The morning cup, with these my faithful servants! + + [_He drinks from a cup, which is then passed round_.] + +Time was, I stood myself in field and wood, +With mine own eyes directing all their toil, +Even as my banner led them in the fight; +Now I am only fit to play the steward: +And, if the genial sun come not to me, +I can no longer seek it on the hills. +Thus slowly, in an ever narrowing sphere, +I move on to the narrowest and the last, +Where all life's pulses cease. I now am but +The shadow of my former self, and that +Is fading fast--'twill soon be but a name. + +KUONI (_offering_ RUDENZ _the cup_). + +A pledge, young master! + + [RUDENZ _hesitates to take the cup_.] + + Nay, Sir, drink it off. +One cup, one heart! You know our proverb, Sir? + +ATTING. + +Go, children, and at eve, when work is done, +We'll meet and talk the country's business over. + + [_Exeunt Servants_.] + +Belted and plumed, and all thy bravery on! +Thou art for Altdorf--for the castle, boy? + +RUDENZ. + +Yes, uncle. Longer may I not delay-- + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_sitting down_). + + +Why in such haste? Say, are thy youthful hours +Doled in such niggard measure, that thou must +Be chary of them to thy aged uncle? + +RUDENZ. + +I see my presence is not needed here; +I am but as a stranger in this house. + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_gazes fixedly at him for a considerable +time_). + +Ay, pity 'tis thou art! Alas, that home +To thee has grown so strange! Oh, Uly! Uly! +I scarce do know thee now, thus deck'd in silks, +The peacock's feather[45] flaunting in thy cap, +And purple mantle round thy shoulders flung; +Thou look'st upon the peasant with disdain; +And tak'st his honest greeting with a blush. + +RUDENZ. + +All honor due to him I gladly pay, +But must deny the right he would usurp. + +ATTING. + +The sore displeasure of its monarch rests +Upon our land, and every true man's heart +Is full of sadness for the grievous wrongs +We suffer from our tyrants. Thou alone +Art all unmoved amid the general grief. +Abandoning thy friends, thou tak'st thy stand +Beside thy country's foes, and, as in scorn +Of our distress, pursuest giddy joys, +Courting the smiles of princes all the while +Thy country bleeds beneath their cruel scourge. + +RUDENZ. + +The land is sore oppress'd, I know it, uncle. +But why? Who plunged it into this distress? +A word, one little easy word, might buy +Instant deliverance from all our ills, +And win the good will of the Emperor. +Woe unto those who seal the people's eyes, +And make them adverse to their country's good-- +The men, who, for their own vile selfish ends, +Are seeking to prevent the Forest States +From swearing fealty to Austria's House, +As all the countries round about have done. +It fits their humor well, to take their seats +Amid the nobles on the Herrenbank;[46] +They'll have the Kaiser for their lord, forsooth-- +That is to say, they'll have no lord at all. + +ATTING. + +Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy! + +RUDENZ. + +You urged me to this answer. Hear me out. +What, uncle, is the character you've stoop'd +To fill contentedly through life? Have you +No higher pride than in these lonely wilds +To be the Landamman or Banneret,[47] +The petty chieftain of a shepherd race? +How! Were it not a far more glorious choice, +To bend in homage to our royal lord, +And swell the princely splendors of his court, +Than sit at home, the peer of your own vassals, +And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns? + +ATTING. + +Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see, +The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear, +And pour'd its subtle poison in thy heart. + +RUDENZ. + +Yes, I conceal it not. It doth offend +My inmost soul, to hear the stranger's gibes, +That taunt us with the name of "Peasant Nobles!" +Think you the heart that's stirring here can brook, +While all the young nobility around +Are reaping honor under Habsburg's banner, +That I should loiter, in inglorious ease, +Here on the heritage my fathers left, +And, in the dull routine of vulgar toil, +Lose all life's glorious spring? In other lands +Great deeds are done. A world of fair renown +Beyond these mountains stirs in martial pomp. +My helm and shield are rusting in the hall; +The martial trumpet's spirit-stirring blast, +The herald's call, inviting to the lists, +Rouse not the echoes of these vales, where naught +Save cowherd's horn and cattle bell is heard, +In one unvarying dull monotony. + +ATTING. + +Deluded boy, seduced by empty show! +Despise the land that gave thee birth! Ashamed +Of the good ancient customs of thy sires! +The day will come, when thou, with burning tears, +Wilt long for home, and for thy native hills, +And that dear melody of tuneful herds, +Which now, in proud disgust, thou dost despise! +A day when wistful pangs shall shake thy heart, +Hearing their music in a foreign land. +Oh! potent is the spell that binds to home! +No, no, the cold, false world is not for thee. +At the proud court, with thy true heart, thou wilt +Forever feel a stranger among strangers. +The world asks virtues of far other stamp +Than thou hast learned within these simple vales. +But go--go thither--barter thy free soul, +Take land in fief, be minion to a prince, +Where thou might'st be lord paramount, and prince +Of all thine own unburden'd heritage! +O, Uly, Uly, stay among thy people! +Go not to Altdorf. Oh, abandon not +The sacred cause of thy wrong'd native land! +I am the last of all my race. My name +Ends with me. Yonder hang my helm and shield; +They will be buried with me in the grave.[48] +And must I think, when yielding up my breath, +That thou but wait'st the closing of mine eyes, +To stoop thy knee to this new feudal court, +And take in vassalage from Austria's hands +The noble lands, which I from God received, +Free and unfetter'd as the mountain air! + +RUDENZ. + +'Tis vain for us to strive against the king. +The world pertains to him. Shall we alone, +In mad presumptuous obstinacy, strive +To break that mighty chain of lands, which he +Hath drawn around us with his giant grasp? +His are the markets, his the courts--his, too, +The highways; nay, the very carrier's horse, +That traffics on the Gotthardt, pays him toll. +By his dominions, as within a net, +We are inclosed, and girded round about-- +And will the Empire shield us? Say, can it +Protect itself 'gainst Austria's growing power? +To God, and not to emperors must we look! +What store can on their promises be placed, +When they, to meet their own necessities, +Can pawn, and even alienate the towns +That flee for shelter 'neath the Eagle's wings?[49] +No, uncle! It is wise and wholesome prudence, +In times like these, when faction's all abroad, +To vow attachment to some mighty chief. +The imperial crown's transferred from line to line.[50] +It has no memory for faithful service +But to secure the favor of these great +Hereditary masters, were to sow +Seed for a future harvest. + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + Art so wise? +Wilt thou see clearer than thy noble sires, +Who battled for fair freedom's priceless gem +With life, and fortune, and heroic arm? +Sail down the lake to Lucern, there inquire +How Austria's thraldom weighs the Cantons down. +Soon she will come to count our sheep, our cattle, +To portion out the Alps, e'en to their peaks, +And in our own free woods to hinder us +From striking down the eagle or the stag; +To set her tolls on every bridge and gate, +Impoverish us, to swell her lust of sway, +And drain our dearest blood to feed her wars. +No, if our blood must flow, let it be shed +In our own cause! We purchase liberty +More cheaply far than bondage. + +RUDENZ. + + What can we, +A shepherd race, against great Albert's hosts? + +ATTING. + +Learn, foolish boy, to know this shepherd race! +I know them, I have led them on in fight-- +I saw them in the battle of Favenz. +What! Austria try, forsooth, to force on us +A yoke we are determined not to bear! +Oh, learn to feel from what a stock thou'rt sprung; +Cast not, for tinsel trash and idle show, +The precious jewel of thy worth away. +To be the chieftain of a free born race, +Bound to thee only by their unbought love, +Ready to stand--to fight--to die with thee, +Be that thy pride, be that thy noblest boast! +Knit to thy heart the ties of kindred--home-- +Cling to the land, the dear land of thy sires, +Grapple to that with thy whole heart and soul! +Thy power is rooted deep and strongly here, +But in yon stranger world thou'lt stand alone, +A trembling reed beat down by every blast. +Oh come! 'tis long since we have seen thee, Uly! +Tarry but this one day. Only today! +Go not to Altdorf. Wilt thou? Not today! +For this one day, bestow thee on thy friends. + + [_Takes his hand_.] + +RUDENZ. + +I gave my word. Unhand me! I am bound. + +ATTING. (_drops his hand and says sternly_). + +Bound, didst thou say? Oh yes, unhappy boy, +Thou art indeed. But not by word or oath. +'Tis by the silken mesh of love thou'rt bound. + + [RUDENZ _turns away_.] + +Ay, hide thee, as thou wilt. 'Tis she, I know, +Bertha of Bruneck, draws thee to the court; +'Tis she that chains thee to the Emperor's service. +Thou think'st to win the noble knightly maid +By thy apostacy. Be not deceived. +She is held out before thee as a lure; +But never meant for innocence like thine. + +RUDENZ. + +No more, I've heard enough. So fare you well. + + _[Exit.]_ + +ATTING. + +Stay, Uly! Stay! Rash boy, he's gone! I can +Nor hold him back, nor save him from destruction. +And so the Wolfshot has deserted us; +Others will follow his example soon. +This foreign witchery, sweeping o'er our hills, +Tears with its potent spell our youth away. +O luckless hour, when men and manners strange +Into these calm and happy valleys came, +To warp our primitive and guileless ways! +The new is pressing on with might. The old, +The good, the simple, all fleet fast away. +New times come on. A race is springing up +That think not as their fathers thought before! +What do I hear? All, all are in the grave +With whom erewhile I moved, and held converse; +My age has long been laid beneath the sod +Happy the man, who may not live to see +What shall be done by those that follow me! + + +SCENE II + + +_A meadow surrounded by high rocks and wooded ground. On the +rocks are tracks, with rails and ladders, by which the +peasants are afterward seen descending. In the background +the lake is observed, and over it a moon rainbow in the +early part of the scene. The prospect is closed by lofty +mountains, with glaciers rising behind them. The stage is +dark, but the lake and glaciers glisten in the moonlight._ + +MELCHTHAL, BAUMGARTEN, WINKELRIED, MEYER VON SARNEN BURKHART +AM BUHEL, ARNOLD VON SEWA, KLAUS VON DER FLUE, _and four +other peasants, all armed._ + +MELCHTHAL _(behind the scenes)_. + +The mountain pass is open. Follow me! +I see the rock, and little cross upon it: +This is the spot; here is the Rootli. + + _[They enter with torches.]_ + +WINKELRIED. + + Hark! + +SEWA. + +The coast is clear. + +MEYER. + + None of our comrades come? +We are the first, we Unterwaldeners. + +MELCH. + + How far is't i' the night? + +BAUMGARTEN. + + The beacon watch +Upon the Selisberg has just called two. + + _[A bell is heard at a distance.]_ + +MEYER. + +Hush! Hark! + +BUHEL. + + The forest chapel's matin bell +Chimes clearly o'er the lake from Switzerland. + +VON F. + +The air is clear and bears the sound so far. + +MELCH. + +Go, you and you, and light some broken boughs, +Let's bid them welcome with a cheerful blaze. + +_[Two peasants exeunt_.] + +SEWA. + +The moon shines fair tonight. Beneath its beams +The lake reposes, bright as burnish'd steel. + +BUHEL. They'll have an easy passage. + +WINK. _(pointing to the lake_). + + Ha! look there! +Do you see nothing? + +MEYER. + + Ay, indeed, I do! +A rainbow in the middle of the night. + +MELCH. + +Formed by the bright reflection of the moon! + +VON F. + +A sign most strange and wonderful, indeed! +Many there be who ne'er have seen the like. + +SEWA. + +'Tis doubled, see, a paler one above! + +BAUM. + +A boat is gliding yonder right beneath it. + +MELCH. + +That must be Werner Stauffacher! I knew +The worthy patriot would not tarry long. + + _[Goes with_ BAUMGARTEN _toward the shore_.] + +MEYER. + +The Uri men are like to be the last. + +BUHEL. + +They're forced to take a winding circuit through +The mountains; for the Viceroy's spies are out. + +_[In the meanwhile the two peasants have kindled a fire in +the centre of the stage.]_ MELCHTHAL _(on the shore)_. + +Who's there? The word? + +STAUFFACHER _(from below_). + + Friends of the country. + +_[All retire up the stage, toward the party landing from the +boat. Enter_ STAUFFACHER, ITEL REDING, HANS AUF DER MAUER, +JORG IM HOFE, CONRAD HUNN, ULRICH DER SCHMIDT, JOST VON +WEILER, _and three other peasants, armed.]_ + +ALL. + + Welcome! + +_[While the rest remain behind exchanging greetings_, +MELCHTHAL _Comes forward with_ STAUFFACHER.] + +MELCH. + +Oh worthy Stauffacher, I've look'd but now +On him who could not look on me again; +I've laid my hands upon his rayless eyes, +And on their vacant orbits sworn a vow +Of vengeance, only to be cool'd in blood. + +STAUFF. + +Speak not of vengeance. We are here, to meet +The threatened evil, not to avenge the past. +Now tell me what you've done, and what secured, +To aid the common cause in Unterwald. +How stand the peasantry disposed, and how +Yourself escaped the wiles of treachery? + +MELCH. + +Through the Surenen's fearful mountain chain, +Where dreary ice-fields stretch on every side, +And sound is none save the hoarse vulture's cry, +I reach'd the Alpine pasture, where the herds +From Uri and from Engelberg resort, +And turn their cattle forth to graze in common. +Still as I went along, I slaked my thirst +With the coarse oozings of the glacier heights +That thro' the crevices come foaming down, +And turned to rest me in the herdsmen's cots,[51] +Where I was host and guest, until I gain'd +The cheerful homes and social haunts of men. +Already through these distant vales had spread +The rumor of this last atrocity; +And wheresoe'er I went, at every door, +Kind words saluted me and gentle looks. +I found these simple spirits all in arms +Against our rulers' tyrannous encroachments. +For as their Alps through each succeeding year +Yield the same roots--their streams flow ever on +In the same channels--nay, the clouds and winds +The selfsame course unalterably pursue, +So have old customs there, from sire to son, +Been handed down, unchanging and unchanged; +Nor will they brook to swerve or turn aside +From the fixed even tenor of their life. +With grasp of their hard hands they welcomed me-- +Took from the walls their rusty falchions down-- +And from their eyes the soul of valor flash'd +With joyful lustre, as I spoke those names, +Sacred to every peasant in the mountains, +Your own and Walter Frst's. Whate'er your voice +Should dictate as the right, they swore to do; +And you they swore to follow e'en to death. +--So sped I on from house to house, secure +In the guest's sacred privilege;--and when +I reached at last the valley of my home, +Where dwell my kinsmen, scatter'd far and near-- +And when I found my father, stript and blind, +Upon the stranger's straw, fed by the alms +Of charity-- + +STAUFFACHER. + + Great heavens! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Yet wept I not! +No--not in weak and unavailing tears +Spent I the force of my fierce burning anguish; +Deep in my bosom, like some precious treasure, +I lock'd it fast, and thought on deeds alone. +Through every winding of the hills I crept-- +No valley so remote but I explored it; +Nay, at the very glacier's ice-clad base, +I sought and found the homes of living men; +And still, where'er my wandering footsteps turn'd, +The selfsame hatred of these tyrants met me. +For even there, at vegetation's verge, +Where the numb'd earth is barren of all fruits, +Their grasping hands had been for plunder thrust. +Into the hearts of all this honest race +The story of my wrongs struck deep, and now +They, to a man, are ours; both heart and hand. + +STAUFF. + +Great things, indeed, you've wrought in little time. + +MELCH. + +I did still more than this. The fortresses, +Rossberg and Sarnen, are the country's dread; +For from behind their adamantine walls +The foe, like eagle from his eyrie swoops, +And, safe himself, spreads havoc o'er the land. +With my own eyes I wish'd to weigh its strength, +So went to Sarnen, and explored the castle. + +STAUFF. + +How! Venture even into the tiger's den? + +MELCH. + +Disguised in pilgrim's weeds I entered it; +I saw the Viceroy feasting at his board-- +Judge if I'm master of myself or no! +I saw the tyrant, and I slew him not! + +STAUFF. + +Fortune, indeed, upon your boldness smiled. + +_[Meanwhile the others have arrived and join_ MELCHTHAL +_and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Yet tell me now, I pray, who are the friends, +The worthy men, who came along with you +Make me acquainted with them, that we may +Speak frankly, man to man, and heart to heart. + +MEYER. + +In the three Cantons, who, sir, knows not you? +Meyer of Sarnen is my name; and this +Is Struth of Winkelried, my sister's son. + +STAUFF. + +No unknown name. A Winkelried it was +Who slew the dragon in the fen at Weiler, +And lost his life in the encounter, too. + +WINK. + +That, Master Stauffacher, was my grandfather. + +MELCHTHAL _(pointing to two peasants)_. + +These two are men who till the cloister lands +Of Engelberg, and live behind the forest. +You'll not think ill of them, because they're serfs, +And sit not free upon the soil, like us; +They love the land, and bear a good repute. + +STAUFFACHER _(to them)_. + +Give me your hands. He has good cause for thanks +That to no man his body's service owes. +But worth is worth, no matter where 'tis found. + +HUNN. + +That is Herr Reding, sir, our old Landamman; + +MEYER. + +I know him well. I am at law with him +About a piece of ancient heritage. +Herr Reding, we are enemies in court-- +Here we are one. + + _[Shakes his hand_.] + +STAUFFACHER. + + That's well and bravely said. + +WINK. Listen! They come. The horn of Uri! Hark! + +_[On the right and left armed men are seen descending the +rocks with torches_.] + +MAUER. + +Look, is not that the holy man of God? +A worthy priest! The terrors of the night, +And the way's pains and perils scare not him, +A faithful shepherd caring for his flock. +BAUM. The Sacrist follows him, and Walter Frst. +But where is Tell? I do not see him there. + +[WALTER FRST, RSSELMANN _the Pastor,_ PETERMANN _the +Sacrist_, KUONI _the Shepherd_ WERNI _the Huntsman_, RUODI +_the Fisherman, and other countrymen, thirty-three in all, +advance and take their places round the fire.]_ + +FRST. + +Thus must we, on the soil our fathers left us, +Creep forth by stealth to meet like murderers, +And in the night, that should her mantle lend +Only to, crime and black conspiracy, +Assert our own good rights which yet are clear +As is the radiance of the noonday sun. + +MELCH. + +So be it. What is hatch'd in gloom of night +Shall free and boldly meet the morning light. + +RSSEL. + +Confederates! Listen to the words which God +Inspires my heart withal. Here we are met, +To represent the general weal. In us +Are all the people of the land convened. +Then let us hold the Diet, as of old, +And as we're wont in peaceful times to do. +The time's necessity be our excuse, +If there be aught informal in this meeting. +Still, wheresoe'er men strike for justice, there +Is God, and now beneath His heav'n we stand. + +STAUFF. + +'Tis well advised.--Let us, then, hold the Diet, +According to our ancient usages.-- +Though it be night, there's sunshine in our cause. + +MELCH. + +Few though our numbers be, the hearts are here +Of the whole people; here the BEST are met. + +HUNN. + +The ancient books may not be near at hand, +Yet are they graven in our inmost hearts. + +RSSEL. + +'Tis well. And now, then, let a ring be formed, +And plant the swords of power within the ground.[52] + +MAUER. + +Let the Landamman step into his place, +And by his side his secretaries stand. + +SACRIST. + +There are three Cantons here. Which hath the right +To give the head to the united Council? +Schwytz may contest that dignity with Uri; +We Unterwald'ners enter not the field. + +MELCH. + +We stand aside. We are but suppliants here, +Invoking aid from our more potent friends. + +STAUFF. + +Let Uri have the sword. Her banner takes, +In battle, the precedence of our own. + +FRST. + +Schwytz, then, must share the honor of the sword; +For she's the honored ancestor of all. + +RSSEL. + +Let me arrange this generous controversy. +Uri shall lead in battle--Schwytz in Council. + +FRST _(gives_ STAUFFACHER _his hand)_. + +Then take your place. + +STAUFFACHER. + + Not I. Some older man. + +HOFE. + +Ulrich, the Smith, is the most aged here. + +MAUER. + +A worthy man, but not a freeman; no! +--No bondman can be judge in Switzerland. + +STAUFF. + +Is not Herr Reding here, our old Landamman! +Where can we find a worthier man than he? + +FRST. + +Let him be Amman and the Diet's chief! +You that agree with me, hold up your hands! + + _[All hold up their right hands_.] + +REDING _(stepping into the centre)_. + +I cannot lay my hands upon the books; +But by yon everlasting stars I swear, +Never to swerve from justice and the right. + +_[The two swords are placed before him, and a circle formed; +Schwytz in the centre, Uri on his right, Unterwald on his +left.]_ + +REDING _(resting on his battle sword)_. + +Why, at the hour when spirits walk the earth, +Meet the three Cantons of the mountains here, +Upon the lake's inhospitable shore? +What may the purport be of this new league +We here contract beneath the starry heaven? + +STAUFFACHER _(entering the circle_). + +'Tis no new league that here we now contract; +But one our fathers framed, in ancient times, +We purpose to renew! For know, confederates, +Though mountain ridge and lake divide our bounds, +And each Canton by its own laws is ruled, +Yet are we but one race, born of one blood, +And all are children of one common home. + +WINK. + +Is then the burden of our legends true, +That we came hither from a distant land? +Oh, tell us what you know, that our new league +May reap fresh vigor from the leagues of old. + +STAUFF. + +Hear, then, what aged herdsmen tell. There dwelt +A mighty people in the land that lies +Back to the north. The scourge of famine came; +And in this strait 'twas publicly resolved +That each tenth man, on whom the lot might fall, +Should leave the country. They obey'd--and forth, +With loud lamentings, men and women went, +A mighty host; and to the south moved on, +Cutting their way through Germany by the sword, +Until they gained these pine-clad hills of ours; +Nor stopp'd they ever on their forward course, +Till at the shaggy dell they halted where +The Mta flows through its luxuriant meads. +No trace of human creature met their eye, +Save one poor hut upon the desert shore, +Where dwelt a lonely man, and kept the ferry. +A tempest raged--the lake rose mountains high +And barr'd their further progress. Thereupon +They view'd the country--found it rich in wood, +Discover'd goodly springs, and felt as they +Were in their own dear native land once more. +Then they resolved to settle on the spot; +Erected there the ancient town of Schwytz; +And many a day of toil had they to clear +The tangled brake and forest's spreading roots. +Meanwhile their numbers grew, the soil became +Unequal to sustain them, and they cross'd +To the black mountain, far as Weissland, where, +Conceal'd behind eternal walls of ice, +Another people speak another tongue. +They built the village of Stanz, beside the Kernwald; +The village Altdorf, in the vale of Reuss; +Yet, ever mindful of their parent stem, +The men of Schwytz, from all the stranger race +That since that time have settled in the land, +Each other recognize. Their hearts still know, +And beat fraternally to kindred blood. + + _[Extends his hand right and left_.] + +MAUER. + +Ay, we are all one heart, one blood, one race! + +ALL _(joining hands)_. + +We are one people, and will act as one. + +STAUFF. + +The nations round us bear a foreign yoke; +For they have to the conqueror succumbed. +Nay, e'en within our frontiers may be found +Some, that owe villein service to a lord, +A race of bonded serfs from sire to son. +But we, the genuine race of ancient Swiss, +Have kept our freedom from the first till now. +Never to princes have we bow'd the knee; +Freely we sought protection of the Empire. + +RSSEL. + +Freely we sought it--freely it was given. +'Tis so set down in Emperor Frederick's charter. + +STAUFF. + +For the most free have still some feudal lord. +There must be still a chief, a judge supreme, +To whom appeal may lie, in case of strife. +And therefore was it that our sires allow'd, +For what they had recover'd from the waste, +This honor to the Emperor, the lord +Of all the German and Italian soil; +And, like the other free men of his realm, +Engaged to aid him with their swords in war; +The free man's duty this alone should be, +To guard the Empire that keeps guard for him. + +MELCH. + +He's but a slave that would acknowledge more. + +STAUFF. + +They followed, when the Heribann[53] went forth, +The imperial standard, and they fought its battles! +To Italy they march'd in arms, to place +The Csars' crown upon the Emperor's head. +But still at home they ruled themselves in peace +By their own laws and ancient usages. +The Emperor's only right was to adjudge +The penalty of death; he therefore named +Some mighty noble as his delegate, +That had no stake or interest in the land, +Who was call'd in, when doom was to be pass'd, +And, in the face of day, pronounced decree, +Clear and distinctly, fearing no man's hate. +What traces here, that we are bondsmen? Speak, +If there be any can gainsay my words! + +HOFE. + +No! You have spoken but the simple truth; +We never stoop'd beneath a tyrant's yoke. + +STAUFF. + +Even to the Emperor we did not submit, +When he gave judgment 'gainst us for the church; +For when the Abbey of Einsiedlen claimed +The Alp our fathers and ourselves had grazed, +And showed an ancient charter which bestowed +The land on them as being ownerless-- +For our existence there had been concealed-- +What was our answer? This: "The grant is void. +No Emperor can bestow what is our own +And if the Empire shall deny our rights, +We can, within our mountains, right ourselves!" +Thus spake our fathers! And shall we endure +The shame and infamy of this new yoke, +And from the vassal brook what never king +Dared, in his plenitude of power, attempt? +This soil we have created for ourselves, +By the hard labor of our hands; we've changed +The giant forest, that was erst the haunt +Of savage bears, into a home for man; +Extirpated the dragon's brood, that wont +To rise, distent with venom, from the swamps; +Rent the thick misty canopy that hung +Its blighting vapors on the dreary waste; +Blasted the solid rock; across the chasm +Thrown the firm bridge for the wayfaring man. +By the possession of a thousand years +The soil is ours. And shall an alien lord, +Himself a vassal, dare to venture here, +Insult us by our own hearth fires--attempt +To forge the chains of bondage for our hands, +And do us shame on our own proper soil? +Is there no help against such wrong as this? + + _[Great sensation among the people_.] + +Yes! there's a limit to the despot's power! +When the oppress'd for justice looks in vain, +When his sore burden may no more be borne, +With fearless heart he makes appeal to Heaven, +And thence brings down his everlasting rights, +Which there abide, inalienably his, +And indestructible as are the stars. +Nature's primeval state returns again, +Where man stands hostile to his fellow man; +And if all other means shall fail his need, +One last resource remains--his own good sword. +Our dearest treasures call to us for aid +Against the oppressor's violence; we stand +For country, home, for wives, for children here! + +ALL _(clashing their swords)_. + +Here stand we for our homes, our wives, and +children. + +RSSELMANN _(stepping into the circle)_. + +Bethink ye well, before ye draw the sword. +Some peaceful compromise may yet be made; +Speak but one word, and at your feet you'll see +The men who now oppress you. Take the terms +That have been often tendered you; renounce +The Empire, and to Austria swear allegiance! + +MAUER. + +What says the priest? To Austria allegiance? + +BUHEL. + +Hearken not to him! + +WINKELRIED. + + 'Tis a traitor's counsel, +His country's foe! + +REDING. + + Peace, peace, confederates! + +SEWA. + +Homage to Austria, after wrongs like these! + +FLUE. + +Shall Austria extort from us by force +What we denied to kindness and entreaty? + +MEYER. + +Then should we all be slaves, deservedly. + +MAUER. + +Yes! Let him forfeit all a Switzer's rights, +Who talks of yielding thus to Austria's yoke! +I stand on this, Landamman. Let this be +The foremost of our laws! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Even so! Whoe'er +Shall talk of bearing Austria's yoke, let him +Of all his rights and honors be despoiled, +No man thenceforth receive him at his hearth! + +ALL _(raising their right hands)_. + +Agreed! Be this the law! + +REDING _(after a pause)_. + + The law it is. + +RSSEL. + +Now you are free--this law hath made you free. +Never shall Austria obtain by force +What she has fail'd to gain by friendly suit. + +WEIL. + +On with the order of the day! Proceed! + +REDING. + +Confederates! Have all gentler means been tried? +Perchance the Emp'ror knows not of our wrongs; +It may not be his will we suffer thus +Were it not well to make one last attempt, +And lay our grievances before the throne, +Ere we unsheath the sword? Force is at best +A fearful thing e'en in a righteous cause; +God only helps, when man can help no more. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ KONRAD HUNN). + +Here you can give us information. Speak! + +HUNN. + +I was at Rheinfeld, at the Emperor's Court, +Deputed by the Cantons to complain +Of the oppressions of these governors, +And of our liberties the charter claim +Which each new king till now has ratified. +I found the envoys there of many a town, +From Suabia and the valley of the Rhine, +Who all received their parchments as they wish'd, +And straight went home again with merry heart. +But me, your envoy, they to the council sent, +Where I with empty cheer was soon dismiss'd. +"The Emperor at present was engaged; +Some other time he would attend to us!" +I turn'd away, and passing through the hall, +With heavy heart, in a recess I saw +The Grand Duke John[54] in tears, and by his side +The noble lords of Wart and Tegerfeld, +Who beckon'd me, and said, "Redress yourselves. +Expect not justice from the Emperor. +Does he not plunder his own brother's child, +And keep from him his just inheritance?" +The Duke claims his maternal property, +Urging he's now of age, and 'tis full time +That he should rule his people and estates +What is the answer made to him? The king +Places a chaplet on his head; "Behold +The fitting ornament," he cries, "of youth!" + +MAUER. + +You hear. Expect not from the Emperor +Or right or justice! Then redress yourselves! + +REDING. + +No other course is left us. Now, advise +What plan most likely to insure success. + +FRST. + +To shake a thraldom off that we abhor, +To keep our ancient rights inviolate, +As we received them from our fathers--this, +Not lawless innovation, is our aim. +Let Csar still retain what is his due; +And he that is a vassal, let him pay +The service he is sworn to faithfully. + +MEYER. + +I hold my land of Austria in fief. + +FRST. + +Continue, then, to pay your feudal dues. + +WEIT. + +I'm tenant of the lords of Rappersweil. + +FRST. + +Continue, then, to pay them rent and tithe. + +RSSEL. + +Of Zurich's Abbess humble vassal I. + +FRST. + +Give to the cloister what the cloister claims. + +STAUFF. + +The Empire only is my feudal lord. + +FRST. + +What needs must be, we'll do, but nothing more. +We'll drive these tyrants and their minions hence, +And raze their towering strongholds to the ground, +Yet shed, if possible, no drop of blood. +Let the Emperor see that we were driven to cast +The sacred duties of respect away; +And when he finds we keep within our bounds, +His wrath, belike, may yield to policy; +For truly is that nation to be fear'd +That, arms in hand, is temperate in its wrath. + +REDING. + +But prithee tell us how may this be done +The enemy is arm'd as well as we, +And, rest assured, he will not yield in peace. + +STAUFF. + +He will, whene'er he sees us up in arms; +We shall surprise him, ere he is prepared. + +MEYER. + +Easily said, but not so easily done. +Two strongholds dominate the country--they +Protect the foe, and should the king invade us, +Our task would then be dangerous indeed. +Rossberg and Sarnen both must be secured, +Before a sword is drawn in either Canton. + +STAUFF. + +Should we delay, the foe would soon be warned. +We are too numerous for secrecy. + +MEYER. + +There is no traitor in the Forest States. + +RSSEL. + +But even zeal may heedlessly betray. + +FRST. + +Delay it no longer, and the keep at Altdorf +Will be complete--the governor secure. + +MEYER. + +You think but of yourselves. + +SACRISTAN. + + You're unjust! + +MEYER. + +Unjust! said you? Dares Uri taunt us so? + +REDING. + +Peace, on your oath! + +SACRISTAN. + + If Schwytz be leagued with Uri, +Why, then, indeed, we must perforce be dumb. + +REDING. + +And let me tell you, in the Diet's name, +Your hasty spirit much disturbs the peace. +Stand we not all for the same common cause? + +WINK. + +What, if till Christmas we delay? 'Tis then +The custom for the serfs to throng the castle, +Bringing the governor their annual gifts. +Thus may some ten or twelve selected men +Assemble unobserved, within its walls, +Bearing about their persons pikes of steel +Which may be quickly mounted upon staves; +For arms are not admitted to the fort. +The rest can fill the neighb'ring wood, prepared +To sally forth upon a trumpet's blast, +Soon as their comrades have secured the gate; +And thus the castle will with ease be ours. + +MELCH. + +The Rossberg I will undertake to scale. +I have a sweetheart in the garrison, +Whom with some tender words I could persuade +To lower me at night a hempen ladder. +Once up, my friends will not be long behind. + +REDING. + +Are all resolved in favor of delay? + +_[The majority raise their hands_.] + +STAUFFACHER _(counting them)._ + +Twenty to twelve is the majority. + +FRST. + +If on the appointed day the castles fall, +From mountain on to mountain we shall speed +The fiery signal: in the capital +Of every Canton quickly rouse the Landsturm.[55] +Then, when these tyrants see our martial front, +Believe me, they will never make so bold +As risk the conflict, but will gladly take +Safe conduct forth beyond our boundaries. + +STAUFF. + +Not so with Gessler. He will make a stand. +Surrounded with his dread array of horse, +Blood will be shed before he quits the field, +And even expell'd he'd still be terrible. +'Tis hard, nay, dangerous, to spare his life. + +BAUM. + +Place me where'er a life is to be lost; +I owe my life to Tell, and cheerfully +Will pledge it for my country. I have clear'd. +My honor, and my heart is now at rest. + +REDING. + +Counsel will come with circumstance. Be patient! +Something must still be to the moment left. +Yet, while by night we hold our Diet here, +The morning, see, has on the mountain tops +Kindled her glowing beacon. Let us part, +Ere the broad sun surprise us. + +FRST. + + Do not fear. +The night wanes slowly from these vales of ours. + +_[All have involuntarily taken off their caps, and +contemplate the breaking of day, absorbed in silence.]_ + +RSSEL. + +By this fair light which greeteth us, before +Those other nations, that, beneath us far, +In noisome cities pent, draw painful breath, +Swear we the oath of our confederacy! +A band of brothers true we swear to be, +Never to part in danger or in death! + +_[They repeat his words with three fingers raised.]_ + +We swear we will be free, as were our sires, +And sooner die than live in slavery! + +_[All repeat as before_.] + +We swear, to put our trust in God Most High, +And not to quail before the might of man! + +_[All repeat as before, and embrace one another_.] + +STAUFF. + +Now every man pursue his several way +Back to his friends, his kindred, and his home. +Let the herd winter up his flock, and gain +In secret friends for this great league of ours! +What for a time must be endured, endure, +And let the reckoning of the tyrants grow, +Till the great day arrive when they shall pay +The general and particular debt at once. +Let every man control his own just rage, +And nurse his vengeance for the public wrongs: +For he whom selfish interests now engage +Defrauds the general weal of what to it belongs. + +_[As they are going off in profound silence, in three +different directions, the orchestra plays a solemn air. The +empty scene remains open for some time, showing the rays of +the sun rising over the Glaciers.]_ + +[ILLUSTRATION: THE OATH ON THE RTLI As performed at the +Royal Theatre, Dresden 1906.] + + + * * * * * + + + +ACT III + + +SCENE I + + +_Court before_ TELL'S _house_. TELL _with an axe_. HEDWIG +_engaged in her domestic duties_. WALTER _and_ WILLIAM _in +the background, playing with a little cross-bow._ + +(WALTER Sings). + +With his cross-bow, and his quiver, + The huntsman speeds his way, +Over mountain, dale, and river, + At the dawning of the day. +As the eagle, on wild pinion, + Is the king in realms of air, +So the hunter claims dominion + Over crag and forest lair. +Far as ever bow can carry, + Thro' the trackless airy space, +All he sees he makes his quarry, + Soaring bird and beast of chase. + +WILLIAM _(runs forward)._ + +My string has snapt! Oh, father, mend it, do! + +TELL. + +Not I; a true-born archer helps himself. + +_[Boys retire_.] + +HEDWIG. + +The boys begin to use the bow betimes. + +TELL. + +'Tis early practice only makes the master. + +HEDWIG. + +Ah! Would to heaven they never learnt the art! + +TELL. + +But they shall learn it, wife, in all its points. +Whoe'er would carve an independent way +Through life, must learn to ward or plant a blow. + +HEDWIG. + +Alas, alas! and they will never rest +Contentedly at home. + +TELL. + + No more can I! +I was not framed by nature for a shepherd. +My restless spirit ever yearns for change; +I only feel the flush and joy of life +If I can start fresh quarry every day. + +HEDWIG. + +Heedless the while of all your wife's alarms, +As she sits watching through long hours at home. +For my soul sinks with terror at the tales +The servants tell about the risks you run; +Whene'er we part, my trembling heart forebodes +That you will ne'er come back to me again. +I see you on the frozen mountain steeps, +Missing, perchance, your leap from crag to crag. +I see the chamois, with a wild rebound, +Drag you down with him o'er the precipice. +I see the avalanche close o'er your head, +The treacherous ice give way, and you sink down +Entombed alive within its hideous gulf. +Ah! in a hundred varying forms does death +Pursue the Alpine huntsman on his course. +That way of life can surely ne'er be blessed, +Where life and limb are perill'd every hour. + +TELL. + +The man that bears a quick and steady eye, +And trusts in God, and his own lusty thews, +Passes, with scarce a scar, through every danger. +The mountain cannot awe the mountain child. + +_[Having finished his work he lays aside his tools.]_ + +And now, methinks, the door will hold awhile-- +Axe in the house oft saves the carpenter. + + _[Takes his cap.]_ + +HEDWIG. + +Whither away? + +TELL. + + To Altdorf, to your father. + +HEDWIG. + +You have some dangerous enterprise in view? +Confess! + +TELL. + + Why think you so? + +HEDWIG. + + Some scheme's on foot +Against the governors. There was a Diet +Held on the Rootli--that I know--and you +Are one of the confederacy, I'm sure. + +TELL. + +I was not there. Yet will I not hold back, +Whene'er my country calls me to her aid. + +HEDWIG. + +Wherever danger is, will you be placed. +On you, as ever, will the burden fall. + +[ILLUSTRATION] + +TELL. + +Each man shall have the post that fits his powers. + +HEDWIG. + +You took--ay, 'mid the thickest of the storm-- +The man of Unterwald across the lake. +'Tis marvel you escaped. Had you no thought +Of wife and children, then? + +TELL. + + Dear wife, I had; +And therefore saved the father for his children. + +HEDWIG. + +To brave the lake in all its wrath! 'Twas not +To put your trust in God! 'Twas tempting Him. + +TELL. + +Little will he that's over cautious do. + +HEDWIG. + +Yes, you've a kind and helping hand for all +But be in straits, and who will lend you aid? + +TELL. + +God grant I ne'er may stand in need of it! + + _[Takes up his cross-bow and arrows_.] + +HEDWIG. + +Why take your cross-bow with you? leave it here. + +TELL. + +I want my right hand, when I want my bow. + + _[The boys return_.] + +WALTER. + +Where, father, are you going? + +TELL. + + To grand-dad, boy-- +To Altdorf. Will you go? + +WALTER. Ay, that I will! + +HEDWIG. + +The Viceroy's there just now. Go not to Altdorf! + +TELL. + +He leaves today. + +HEDWIG. + + Then let him first be gone, +Cross not his path.--You know he bears us grudge. + +TELL. + +His ill-will cannot greatly injure me. +I do what's right, and care for no man's hate. + +HEDWIG. + +'Tis those who do what's right, whom most he hates. + +TELL. + +Because he cannot reach them. Me, I ween, +His knightship will be glad to leave in peace. + +HEDWIG. + +Ay!--Are you sure of that? + +TELL. + + Not long ago, +As I was hunting through the wild ravines +Of Shechenthal, untrod by mortal foot-- +There, as I took my solitary way +Along a shelving ledge of rocks, where 'twas +Impossible to step on either side; +For high above rose, like a giant wall, +The precipice's side, and far below +The Shechen thunder'd o'er its rifted bed;-- + +[_The boys press toward him, looking upon him_ _with excited +curiosity.]_ + +There, face to face, I met the Viceroy. He +Alone with me--and I myself alone-- +Mere man to man, and near us the abyss, +And when his lordship had perused my face, +And knew the man he had severely fined +On some most trivial ground, not long before, +And saw me, with my sturdy bow in hand, +Come striding toward him, his cheek grew pale, +His knees refused their office, and I thought +He would have sunk against the mountain side. +Then, touch'd with pity for him, I advanced, +Respectfully, and said "'Tis I, my lord." +But ne'er a sound could he compel his lips +To frame in answer. Only with his hand +He beckoned me in silence to proceed. +So I pass'd on, and sent his train to seek him. + +HEDWIG. + +He trembled, then, before you? Woe the while +You saw his weakness; that he'll ne'er forgive. + +TELL. + +I shun him, therefore, and he'll not seek me. + +HEDWIG. + +But stay away today. Go hunt instead! + +TELL. + +What do you fear? + +HEDWIG. + + I am uneasy. Stay! + +TELL. + +Why thus distress yourself without a cause? + +HEDWIG. + +Because there is no cause. Tell, Tell! stay here! + +TELL. + +Dear wife, I gave my promise I would go. + +HEDWIG. + +Must you--then go. But leave the boys with me. + +WALTER. + +No, mother dear, I go with father, I. + +HEDWIG. + +How, Walter! will you leave your mother then? + +WALTER. + +I'll bring you pretty things from grandpa. + + _[Exit with his father.]_ + +WILLIAM. + +Mother, I'll stay with you! + +HEDWIG _(embracing him_). + + Yes, yes! thou art +My own dear child. Thou'rt all that's left to me. + +_[She goes to the gate of the court and looks anxiously +after_ TELL _and her son for a considerable time.]_ + + +SCENE II + + +_A retired part of the Forest.-Brooks dashing in spray over +the rocks._ + +_Enter_ BERTHA _in a hunting dress. Immediately afterward_ +RUDENZ + +BERTHA. + +He follows me. Now, then, to speak my mind! + +RUDENZ _(entering hastily)._ + +At length, dear lady, we have met alone +In this wild dell, with rocks on every side, +No jealous eye can watch our interview. +Now let my heart throw off this weary silence. + +BERTHA. + +But are you sure they will not follow us? + +RUDENZ. + +See, yonder goes the chase! Now, then, or never! +I must avail me of this precious chance-- +Must hear my doom decided by thy lips, +Though it should part me from thy side forever. +Oh, do not arm that gentle face of thine +With looks so stern and harsh! Who--who am I, +That dare aspire so high, as unto thee? +Fame hath not stamp'd me yet; nor may I take +My place amid the courtly throng of knights, +That, crown'd with glory's lustre, woo thy smiles. +Nothing have I to offer but a heart +That overflows with truth and love for thee. + +BERTHA _(sternly and with severity)_. + +And dare you speak to me of love--of truth! +You, that are faithless to your nearest ties! +You, that are Austria's slave-bartered and sold +To her--an alien, and your country's tyrant! + +RUDENZ. + +How! This reproach from thee! Whom do I seek, +On Austria's side, my own beloved, but thee? + +BERTHA. + +Think you to find me in the traitor's ranks? +Now, as I live, I'd rather give my hand +To Gessler's self, all despot though he be, +Than to the Switzer who forgets his birth, +And stoops to be a tyrant's servile tool. + +RUDENZ. + +Oh heaven, what words are these? + +BERTHA. + + Say! what can lie +Nearer the good man's heart than friends and kindred! +What dearer duty to a noble soul +Than to protect weak suffering innocence, +And vindicate the rights of the oppress'd? +My very soul bleeds for your countrymen. +I suffer with them, for I needs must love them; +They are so gentle, yet so full of power; +They draw my whole heart to them. Every day +I look upon them with increased esteem. +But you, whom nature and your knightly vow +Have given them as their natural protector, +Yet who desert them and abet their foes +In forging shackles for your native land, +You--you incense and wound me to the core. +It tries me to the utmost not to hate you. + +RUDENZ. + +Is not my country's welfare all my wish? +What seek I for her but to purchase peace +'Neath Austria's potent sceptre? + +BERTHA. + + Bondage, rather! +You would drive freedom from the last stronghold +That yet remains for her upon the earth. +The people know their own true int'rests better: +Their simple natures are not warp'd by show. +But round your head a tangling net is wound. + +RUDENZ. + +Bertha, you hate me--you despise me! + +BERTHA. + + Nay! +And if I did, 'twere better for my peace. +But to see him despised and despicable-- +The man whom one might love-- + +RUDENZ. + + Oh, Bertha. You +Show me the pinnacle of heavenly bliss, +Then, in a moment, hurl me to despair! + +BERTHA. + +No, no! the noble is not all extinct +Within you. It but slumbers--I will rouse it. +It must have cost you many a fiery struggle +To crush the virtues of your race within you. +But, heaven be praised, 'tis mightier than yourself, +And you are noble in your own despite! + +RUDENZ. + +You trust me, then? Oh, Bertha, with thy love +What might I not become! + +BERTHA. + + Be only that +For which your own high nature destin'd you. +Fill the position you were born to fill;-- +Stand by your people and your native land, +And battle for your sacred rights! + +RUDENZ. + + Alas! +How can I win you--how can you be mine, +If I take arms against the Emperor? +Will not your potent kinsmen interpose +To dictate the disposal of your hand? + +BERTHA. + +All my estates lie in the Forest Cantons; +And I am free, when Switzerland is free. + +RUDENZ. + +Oh! what a prospect, Bertha, hast thou shown me! + +BERTHA. + +Hope not to win my hand by Austria's grace; +Fain would they lay their grasp on my estates +To swell the vast domains which now they hold. +The selfsame lust of conquest, that would rob +You of your liberty, endangers mine. +Ob, friend, I'm mark'd for sacrifice;--to be +The guerdon of some parasite, perchance! +They'll drag me hence to the Imperial court, +That hateful haunt of falsehood and intrigue, +And marriage bonds I loathe await me there. +Love, love alone--your love can rescue me. + +RUDENZ. + +And thou couldst be content, love, to live here? +In my own native land to be my own? +Oh, Bertha, all the yearnings of my soul +For this great world and its tumultuous strife-- +What were they, but a yearning after thee? +In glory's path I sought for thee alone, +And all my thirst of fame was only love. +But if in this calm vale thou canst abide +With me, and bid earth's pomps and pride adieu, +Then is the goal of my ambition won; +And the rough tide of the tempestuous world +May dash and rave around these firm-set hills! +No wandering wishes more have I to send +Forth to the busy scene that stirs beyond. +Then may these rocks, that girdle us, extend +Their giant walls impenetrably round, +And this sequestered happy vale alone +Look up to heaven, and be my paradise! + +BERTHA. + +Now art thou all my fancy dream'd of thee! +My trust has not been given to thee in vain. + +RUDENZ. + +Away, ye idle phantoms of my folly; +In mine own home I'll find my happiness. +Here, where the gladsome boy to manhood grew, +Where ev'ry brook, and tree, and mountain peak, +Teems with remembrances of happy hours, +In mine own native land thou wilt be mine. +Ah, I have ever loved it well, I feel +How poor without it were all earthly joys. + +BERTHA. + +Where should we look for happiness on earth, +If not in this dear land of innocence-- +Here, where old truth hath its familiar home? +Where fraud and guile are strangers, envy ne'er +Shall dim the sparkling fountain of our bliss, +And ever bright the hours shall o'er us glide. +There do I see thee, in true manly worth, +The foremost of the free and of thy peers, +Revered with homage pure and unconstrain'd, +Wielding a power that kings might envy thee. + +RUDENZ. + +And thee I see, thy sex's crowning gem, +With thy sweet woman's grace and wakeful love, +Building a heaven for me within my home, +And, as the spring-time scatters forth her flowers, +Adorning with thy charms my path of life, +And spreading joy and sunshine all around. + +BERTHA. + +And this it was, dear friend, that caused my grief, +To see thee blast this life's supremest bliss +With thine own hand. Ah! what had been my fate, +Had I been forced to follow some proud lord, +Some ruthless despot, to his gloomy keep! +Here are no keeps, here are no bastion'd walls +To part me from a people I can bless. + +RUDENZ. + +Yet, how to free myself; to loose the coils +Which I have madly twined around my head? + +BERTHA. + +Tear them asunder with a man's resolve. +Whate'er ensue, firm by thy people stand! +It is thy post by birth. + + [_Hunting horns are heard in the distance_.] + + But hark! The chase! +Farewell--'tis needful we should part--away! +Fight for thy land; thou fightest for thy love. +One foe fills all our souls with dread; the blow +That makes one free, emancipates us all. + + [_Exeunt severally_.] + +SCENE III + + +_A meadow near Altdorf. Trees in the foreground. At the back +of the stage a cap upon a pole. The prospect is bounded by +the Bannberg, which is surmounted by a snow-capped +mountain._ + +FRIESSHARDT _and_ LEUTHOLD _on guard_ + + +FRIESS. + +We keep our watch in vain. Zounds! not a soul +Will pass and do obeisance to the cap. +But yesterday the place swarm'd like a fair; +Now the old green looks like a desert, quite, +Since yonder scarecrow hung upon the pole. + +LEUTH. + +Only the vilest rabble show themselves, +And wave their tattered caps in mockery at us. +All honest citizens would sooner make +A weary circuit over half the town, +Than bend their backs before our master's cap. + +FRIESS. + +They were obliged to pass this way at noon, +As they were coming from the Council House. +I counted then upon a famous catch, +For no one thought of bowing to the cap, +But Rsselmann, the priest, was even with me: +Coming just then from some sick man, he takes +His stand before the pole--lifts up the Host-- +The Sacrist, too, must tinkle with his bell-- +When down they dropp'd on knee--myself and all-- +In reverence to the Host, but not the cap. + +LEUTH. + +Hark ye, companion, I've a shrewd suspicion, +Our post's no better than the pillory. +It is a burning shame, a trooper should +Stand sentinel before an empty cap, +And every honest fellow must despise us. +To do obeisance to a cap, too! Faith, +I never heard an order so absurd! + +FRIESS. + +Why not, an't please you, to an empty cap? +You've duck'd, I'm sure, to many an empty sconce. + +[HILDEGARD, MECHTHILD, _and_ ELSBETH _enter with their +children, and station themselves around the pole_.] + +LEUTH. + +And you are a time-serving sneak that takes +Delight in bringing honest folks to harm. +For my part, he that likes may pass the cap:-- +I'll shut my eyes and take no note of him. + +MECH. + +There hangs the Viceroy! Your obeisance, children! + +ELSBETH. + +I would to God he'd go, and leave his cap! +The country would be none the worse for it. + +FRIESSHARDT (_driving them away_). + +Out of the way! Confounded pack of gossips! +Who sent for you? Go, send your husbands here, +If they have courage to defy the order. + +[TELL _enters with his cross-bow, leading his son_ WALTER +_by the hand. They pass the hat without noticing it, and +advance to the front of the stage_.] + +WALTER (_pointing to the Bannberg_). + +Father, is't true, that on the mountain there +The trees, if wounded with a hatchet, bleed? + +TELL. + +Who says so, boy? + +WALTER. + +The master herdsman, father! +He tells us there's a charm upon the trees, +And if a man shall injure them, the hand +That struck the blow will grow from out the grave. + +TELL. + +There is a charm about them--that's the truth. +Dost see those glaciers yonder--those white horns-- +That seem to melt away into the sky? + +WALTER. + +They are the peaks that thunder so at night, +And send the avalanches down upon us. + +TELL. + +They are; and Altdorf long ago had been +Submerged beneath these avalanches' weight, +Did not the forest there above the town +Stand like a bulwark to arrest their fall. + +WALTER (_after musing a little_). + +And are there countries with no mountains, father? + +TELL. + +Yes, if we travel downward from our heights, +And keep descending where the rivers go, +We reach, a wide and level country, where +Our mountain torrents brawl and foam no more, +And fair large rivers glide serenely on. +All quarters of the heaven may there be scann'd +Without impediment. The corn grows there +In broad and lovely fields, and all the land +Is like a garden fair to look upon. + +WALTER. + +But, father, tell me, wherefore haste we not +Away to this delightful land, instead +Of toiling here and struggling as we do? + +TELL. + +The land is fair and bountiful as Heaven; +But they who till it never may enjoy +The fruits of what they sow. + +WALTER. + + Live they not free, +As you do, on the land their fathers left them? + +TELL. + +The fields are all the bishop's or the king's. + +WALTER. + +But they may freely hunt among the woods? + +TELL. + +The game is all the monarch's--bird and beast. + +WALTER. + +But they, at least, may surely fish the streams? + +TELL. + +Stream, lake, and sea, all to the king belong. + +WALTER. + +Who is this king, of whom they're so afraid? + +TELL. + +He is the man who fosters and protects them. + +WALTER. + +Have they not courage to protect themselves? + +TELL. + +The neighbor there dare not his neighbor trust. + +WALTER. + +I should want breathing room in such a land. +I'd rather dwell beneath the avalanches. + +TELL. + +'Tis better, child, to have these glacier peaks +Behind one's back than evil-minded men! + + [_They are about to pass on_.] + +WALTER. + +See, father, see the cap on yonder pole! + +TELL. + +What is the cap to us? Come, let's begone. + +[_As he is going_, FRIESSHARDT, _presenting his pike, stops +him_.] + +FRIESS. + +Stand, I command you, in the Emperor's name! + +TELL (_seizing the pike_). + +What would ye? Wherefore do ye stop me thus? + +FRIESS. + +You've broke the mandate, and with us must go. + +LEUTH. + +You have not done obeisance to the cap. + +TELL. + +Friend, let me go. + +FRIESS. + + Away, away to prison! + +WALTER. + +Father to prison? Help! + + [_Calling to the side scene_.] + + This way, you men! +Good people, help! They're dragging him to prison! + +[RSSELMANN _the Priest, and the_ SACRISTAN, _with three +other men, enter_.] + +SACRIST. + +What's here amiss? + +RSSELMANN. + + Why do you seize this man? + +FRIESS. + +He is an enemy of the King--a traitor. + +TELL (_seizing him with violence_). + +A traitor, I? + +RSSELMANN. + + Friend, thou art wrong. 'Tis Tell, +An honest man, and worthy citizen. + +WALTER (_descries_ FRST _and runs up to him_). + +Grandfather, help, they want to seize my father! + +FRIESS. Away to prison! + +FRST (_running in_). + + Stay, I offer bail. +For God's sake, Tell, what is the matter here? + + [MELCHTHAL _and_ STAUFFACHER _enter_.] + +LEUTH. + +He has contemn'd the Viceroy's sovereign power, +Refusing flatly to acknowledge it. + +STAUFF. + +Has Tell done this? + +MELCHTHAL. + + Villain, you know 'tis false! + +LEUTH. + +He has not made obeisance to the cap. + +FRST. + +And shall for this to prison? Come, my friend, +Take my security, and let him go. + +FRIESS. + +Keep your security for yourself--you'll need it. +We only do our duty. Hence with him. + +MELCHTHAL (_to the country people_). + +This is too bad--shall we stand by and see +Him dragged away before our very eyes? + +SACRIST. + +We are the strongest. Friends, endure it not, +Our countrymen will back us to a man. + +FRIESS. + +Who dares the governor's commands? + +OTHER THREE PEASANTS (_running in_). + +We'll help you. What's the matter? Down with them! + + [HILDEGARD, MECHTHILD _and_ ELSBETH _return_.] + +TELL. + +Go, go, good people, I can help myself. +Think you, had I a mind to use my strength, +These pikes of theirs should daunt me? + +MELCHTHAL (_to_ FRIESSHARDT). + +Only try-- +Try from our midst to force him, if you dare. + +FRST _and_ STAUFFACHER. + +Peace, peace, friends! + +FRIESSHARDT (_loudly_). + + Riot! Insurrection, ho! + + [_Hunting-horns without_.] + +WOMEN. + +The Governor! + +FRIESSHARDT _(raising his voice_). + + Rebellion! Mutiny! + +STAUFF. + +Roar till you burst, knave! + +RSSELMANN _and_ MELCHTHAL. + + Will you hold your tongue? + +FRIESSHARDT (_calling still louder_). + +Help, help, I say, the servants of the law! + +FRST. + +The Viceroy here! Then we shall smart for this! + +[_Enter_ GESSLER _on horseback, with a falcon on his wrist_: +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, BERTHA, _and_ RUDENZ, _and a numerous +train of armed attendants, who form a circle of lances round +the whole stage_.] + +HARRAS. + +Room for the Viceroy! + +GESSLER. + + Drive the clowns apart. +Why throng the people thus? Who calls for help? + + [_General silence_.] + +[Illustration: TELL AND GESSLER As performed at the Royal +Theatre, Dresden, 1906.] + +Who was it? I _will_ know. + + [FRIESSHARDT _steps forward_.] + + And who art thou? +And why hast thou this man in custody? + + [_Gives his falcon to an attendant_.] + +FRIESS. + +Dread sir, I am a soldier of your guard, +And station'd sentinel beside the cap; +This man I apprehended in the act +Of passing it without obeisance due; +So as you ordered, I arrested him, +Whereupon to rescue him the people tried. + +GESSLER (_after a pause_). + +And do you, Tell, so lightly hold your King, +And me, who act as his vice-regent here, +That you refuse obeisance to the cap, +I hung aloft to test your loyalty? +I read in this a disaffected spirit. + +TELL. + +Pardon me, good my lord! The action sprung +From inadvertence--not from disrespect. +Were I discreet, I were not William Tell. +Forgive me now--I'll not offend again. + +GESSLER (_after a pause_). + +I hear, Tell, you're a master with the bow-- +From every rival bear the palm away. + +WALTER. + +That's very truth, sir! At a hundred yards +He'll shoot an apple for you off the tree. + +GESSLER. + +Is that boy thine, Tell? + +TELL. + + Yes, my gracious lord. + +GESSLER. + +Hast any more of them? + +TELL. + + Two boys, my lord. + +GESSLER. + +And, of the two, which dost thou love the most? + +TELL. + +Sir, both the boys are dear to me alike. + +GESSLER. + +Then, Tell, since at a hundred yards thou canst +Bring down the apple from the tree, thou shalt +Approve thy skill before me. Take thy bow-- +Thou hast it there at hand--make ready, then, +To shoot an apple from the stripling's head! +But take this counsel--look well to thine aim, +See, that thou hit'st the apple at the first, +For, shouldst thou miss, thy head shall pay the forfeit. + + [_All give signs of horror_.] + +TELL. + +What monstrous thing, my lord, is this you ask? +What I from the head of mine own child!--No, no! +It cannot be, kind sir, you meant not that-- +God, in His grace, forbid! You could not ask +A father seriously to do that thing! + +GESSLER. + +Thou art to shoot an apple from his head! +I do desire--command it so. + +TELL. + + What, I! +Level my cross-bow at the darling head +Of mine own child? No--rather let me die! + +GESSLER. + +Or thou must shoot, or with thee dies the boy. + +TELL. + +Shall I become the murderer of my child! +You have no children, sir--you do not know +The tender throbbings of a father's heart. + +GESSLER. + +How now, Tell, on a sudden so discreet? +I had been told thou wert a visionary-- +A wanderer from the paths of common men. +Thou lov'st the marvelous. So have I now +Cull'd out for thee a task of special daring. +Another man might pause and hesitate;-- +Thou dashest at it, heart and soul, at once. + +BERTHA. + +Oh, do not jest, my lord, with these poor souls! +See, how they tremble, and how pale they look, +So little used are they to hear thee jest. + +GESSLER. + +Who tells thee that I jest? + + [_Grasping a branch above his head_.] + + Here is the apple. +Room there, I say! And let him take his distance-- +Just eighty paces--as the custom is-- +Not an inch more or less! It was his boast +That at a hundred he could hit his man. +Now, archer, to your task, and look you miss not! + +HARRAS. + +Heavens! this grows serious--down, boy, on your knees, +And beg the governor to spare your life. + +FRST (_aside to_ MELCHTHAL, _who can scarcely restrain his +indignation_). + +Command yourself--be calm, I beg of you! + +BERTHA (_to the governor_). + + +Let this suffice you, sir! It is inhuman +To trifle with a father's anguish thus. +Although this wretched man had forfeited +Both life and limb for such a slight offence, +Already has he suffer'd tenfold death. +Send him away uninjured to his home; +He'll know thee well in future; and this hour +He and his children's children will remember. + +GESSLER. + +Open a way there--quick! Why this delay? +Thy life is forfeited; I might dispatch thee, +And see, I graciously repose thy fate +Upon the skill of thine own practised hand. +No cause has he to say his doom is harsh +Who's made the master of his destiny. +Thou boastest thine unerring aim. 'Tis well! +Now is the fitting time to show thy skill; +The mark is worthy and the prize is great. +To hit the bull's eye in the target;--that +Can many another do as well as thou; +But he, methinks, is master of his craft, +Who can at all times on his skill rely, +Nor lets his heart disturb or eye or hand. + +FRST. + +My lord, we bow to your authority; +But oh, let justice yield to mercy here. +Take half my property, nay, take it all, +But spare a father this unnatural doom! + +WALTER. + +Grandfather, do not kneel to that bad man! +Say, where am I to stand? I do not fear; +My father strikes the bird upon the wing, +And will not miss now when 'twould harm his boy! + +STAUFF. + +Does the child's innocence not touch your heart? + +RSSEL. + +Bethink you, sir, there is a God in heaven, +To whom you must account for all your deeds. + +GESSLER (_pointing to the boy_). + +Bind him to yonder lime tree! + +WALTER. + + What! Bind me? +No, I will not be bound! I will be still, +Still as a lamb--nor even draw my breath! +But if you bind me, I cannot be still. +Then I shall writhe and struggle with my bonds. + +HARRAS. + +But let your eyes at least be bandaged, boy! + +WALTER. + +And why my eyes? No! Do you think I fear +An arrow from my father's hand? Not I! +I'll wait it firmly, nor so much as wink! +Quick, father, show them what thy bow can do. +He doubts thy skill--he thinks to ruin us. +Shoot then and hit, though but to spite the tyrant! + +[_He goes to the lime tree, and an apple is placed on his +head_.] + +MELCHTHAL (_to the country people_). + +What! Is this outrage to be perpetrated +Before our very eyes? Where is our oath? + +STAUFF. + +Resist we cannot! Weapons we have none, +And see the wood of lances round us! See! + +MELCH. + +Oh! would to heaven that we had struck at once! +God pardon those who counsell'd the delay! + +GESSLER (_to_ TELL). + +Now to your task! Men bear not arms for naught. +To carry deadly tools is dangerous, +And on the archer oft his shaft recoils. +This right these haughty peasant churls assume +Trenches upon their master's privileges: +None should be armed but those who bear command. +It pleases you to carry bow and bolt;-- +Well--be it so. I will prescribe the mark. + +TELL (_bends the bow, and fixes the arrow_). + +A lane there! Room! + +STAUFFACHER. + + What, Tell? You would--no, no! +You shake--your hand's unsteady--your knees tremble. + +TELL (_letting the bow sink down_). + +There's something swims before mine eyes! + +WOMEN. + + Great Heaven! + +TELL. Release me from this shot! Here is my heart! + + [_Tears open his breast_.] + +Summon your troopers--let them strike me down! + +GESSLER. + +'Tis not thy life I want--I want the shot. +Thy talent's universal! Nothing daunts thee! +The rudder thou canst handle like the bow! +No storms affright thee, when a life's at stake. +Now, savior, help thyself--thou savest all! + +[TELL _stands fearfully agitated by contending emotions, his +hands moving convulsively, and his eyes turning alternately +to the governor and Heaven. Suddenly he takes a second arrow +from his quiver, and sticks it in his belt. The governor +notes all he does_.] + +WALTER (_beneath the lime tree_). + +Shoot, father, shoot! fear not! + +TELL. + + It must be! + + [_Collects himself and levels the bow_.] + +RUDENZ (_who all the while has been standing in a state of +violent excitement, and has with difficulty restrained +himself, advances_). + +My lord, you will not urge this matter further; +You will not. It was surely but a test. +You've gained your object. Rigor push'd too far +Is sure to miss its aim, however good, +As snaps the bow that's all too straitly bent. + +GESSLER. + +Peace, till your counsel's ask'd for! + +RUDENZ. + + I will speak! +Ay, and I dare! I reverence my king; +But acts like these must make his name abhorr'd. +He sanctions not this cruelty. I dare +Avouch the fact. And you outstep your powers +In handling thus my harmless countrymen. + +GESSLER. + +Ha! thou grow'st, bold, methinks! + +RUDENZ. + + I have been dumb +To all the oppressions I was doomed to see. +I've closed mine eyes to shut them from my view, +Bade my rebellious, swelling heart be still, +And pent its struggles down within my breast. +But to be silent longer, were to be +A traitor to my king and country both. + +BERTHA (_casting herself between him and the governor_). + +Oh Heavens! you but exasperate his rage! + +RUDENZ. + +My people I forsook--renounced my kindred-- +Broke all the ties of nature, that I might +Attach myself to you. I madly thought +That I should best advance the general weal +By adding sinews to the Emperor's power. +The scales have fallen from mine eyes--I see +The fearful precipice on which I stand. +You've led my youthful judgment far astray-- +Deceived my honest heart. With best intent, +I had well-nigh achiev'd my country's ruin. + +GESSLER. + +Audacious boy, this language to thy lord? + +RUDENZ. + +The Emperor is my lord, not you! I'm free +As you by birth, and I can cope with you +In every virtue that beseems a knight. +And if you stood not here in that King's name, +Which I respect e'en where 'tis most abused, +I'd throw my gauntlet down, and you should give +An answer to my gage in knightly sort. +Ay, beckon to your troopers! Here I stand; +But not like these + + [_Pointing to the people_.] + + --unarmed. I have a sword, +And he that stirs one step-- + +STAUFFACHER (_exclaims_). + The apple's down! + +[_While the attention of the crowd has been directed to the +spot where_ BERTHA _had cast herself between_ RUDENZ _and_ +GESSLER, TELL _has shot_.] + +RSSEL. + +The boy's alive! + +MANY VOICES. + +The apple has been struck! + +[WALTER FRST _staggers and is about to fall_. BERTHA +_supports him_.] + +GESSLER (_astonished_). + +How? Has he shot? The madman! + +BERTHA. + + Worthy father! +Pray you, compose yourself. The boy's alive. + +WALTER (_runs in with the apple_). + +Here is the apple, father! Well I knew +You would not harm your boy. + +[TELL _stands with his body bent forward, as if still +following the arrow. His bow drops from his hand. When he +sees the boy advancing, he hastens to meet him with open +arms, and embracing him passionately sinks down with him +quite exhausted. All crowd round them deeply affected_.] + +BERTHA. + + Oh, ye kind Heavens! + +FRST (_to father and son_). + +My children, my dear children! + +STAUFFACHER. + +God be praised! + +LEUTH. + +Almighty powers! That was a shot indeed! +It will be talked of to the end of time. + +HARRAS. + +This feat of Tell, the archer, will be told +Long as these mountains stand upon their base. + + [_Hands the apple to_ GESSLER.] + +GESSLER. + +By Heaven! the apple's cleft right through the core. +It was a master shot, I must allow. + +RSSEL. + +The shot was good. But woe to him who drove +The man to tempt his God by such a feat! + +STAUFF. + +Cheer up, Tell, rise! You've nobly freed yourself, +And now may go in quiet to your home. + +RSSEL. + +Come, to the mother let us bear her son! + + [_They are about to lead him off_.] + +GESSLER. + +A word, Tell. + +TELL. Sir, your pleasure? + +GESSLER. + + Thou didst place +A second arrow in thy belt--nay, nay! +I saw it well. Thy purpose with it? Speak! + +TELL (_confused_). + +It is a custom with all archers, sir. + +GESSLER. + +No, Tell, I cannot let that answer pass. +There was some other motive, well I know. +Frankly and cheerfully confess the truth;-- +Whate'er it be, I promise thee thy life. +Wherefore the second arrow? + +TELL. + + Well, my lord, +Since you have promised not to take my life, +I will, without reserve, declare the truth. + +[_He draws the arrow from his belt, and fixes his eyes +sternly upon the governor_.] + +If that my hand had struck my darling child, +This second arrow I had aimed at you, +And, be assured, I should not then have miss'd. + +GESSLER. + +Well, Tell, I promised thou shouldst have thy life; +I gave my knightly word, and I will keep it. +Yet, as I know the malice of thy thoughts, +I'll have thee carried hence, and safely penn'd, +Where neither sun nor moon shall reach thine eyes. +Thus from thy arrows I shall be secure. +Seize on him, guards, and bind him! + + [_They bind him_.] + +STAUFFACHER. + + How, my lord-- +How can you treat in such a way a man +On whom God's hand has plainly been reveal'd? + +GESSLER. + +Well, let us see if it will save him twice! +Remove him to my ship; I'll follow straight; +At Kssnacht I will see him safely lodged. + +RSSEL. + +You dare not do't. Nor durst the Emperor's self +So violate our dearest chartered rights. + +GESSLER. + +Where are they? Has the Emp'ror confirm'd them? +He never has. And only by obedience +May you that favor hope to win from him. +You are all rebels 'gainst the Emp'ror's power-- +And bear a desperate and rebellious spirit. +I know you all--I see you through and through. +Him do I single from amongst you now, +But in his guilt you all participate. +If you are wise, be silent and obey! + +[_Exit, followed by_ BERTHA, RUDENZ, HARRAS, _and +attendants_. FRIESSHARDT _and_ LEUTHOLD _remain_.] + +FRST (_in violent anguish_). + +All's over now! He is resolved to bring +Destruction on myself and all my house. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ TELL). + +Oh, why did you provoke the tyrant's rage? + +TELL. + +Let him be calm who feels the pangs I felt. + +STAUFF. + +Alas! alas! Our every hope is gone. +With you we all are fettered and enchain'd. + +COUNTRY PEOPLE (_surrounding_ TELL). + +Our last remaining comfort goes with you! + +LEUTHOLD (_approaching him_). + +I'm sorry for you, Tell, but must obey. + +TELL. + +Farewell! + +WALTER TELL (_clinging to him in great agony_). + +Oh, father, father, father dear! + +TELL (_pointing to Heaven_). + +Thy father is on high--appeal to Him! + +STAUFF. + +Have you no message, Tell, to send your wife? + +TELL (_clasping the boy passionately to his breast_). + +The boy's uninjured; God will succor me! + +[_Tears himself suddenly away, and follows the soldiers of +the guard_.] + + + +ACT IV + + +SCENE I + + +_Eastern shore of the Lake of Lucerne; rugged and singularly +shaped rocks close the prospect to the west. The lake is +agitated, violent roaring and rushing of wind, with thunder +and lightning at intervals._ + +KUNZ OF GERSAU, FISHERMAN _and_ BOY + +KUNZ. + +I saw it with these eyes! Believe me, friend, +It happen'd all precisely as I've said. + +FISHER. + +How! Tell a prisoner, and to Kssnacht borne? +The best man in the land, the bravest arm, +Had we for liberty to strike a blow! + +KUNZ. + +The Viceroy takes him up the lake in person: +They were about to go on board, as I +Started from Flelen; but the gathering storm, +That drove me here to land so suddenly, +May well have hindered them from setting out. + +FISHER. + +Our Tell in chains, and in the Viceroy's power! +O, trust me, Gessler will entomb him where +He never more shall see the light of day; +For, Tell once free, the tyrant well might dread +The just revenge of one so deeply wrong'd. + +KUNZ. + +The old Landamman, too--von Attinghaus-- +They say, is lying at the point of death. + +FISHER. + +Then the last anchor of our hopes gives way! +He was the only man that dared to raise +His voice in favor of the people's rights. + +KUNZ. + +The storm grows worse and worse. So, fare ye well! +I'll go and seek out quarters in the village. +There's not a chance of getting off today. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISHER. + +Tell dragg'd to prison, and the Baron dead! +Now, tyranny, exalt thy brazen front-- +Throw every shame aside! Truth's voice is dumb! +The eye that watch'd for us, in darkness closed, +The arm that should have struck thee down, in chains! + +BOY. + +'Tis hailing hard--come, let us to the hut! +This is no weather to be out in, father! + +FISHER. + +Rage on, ye winds! Ye lightnings, flash your fires! +Burst, ye swollen clouds! Ye cataracts of Heaven, +Descend, and drown the country! In the germ +Destroy the generations yet unborn! +Ye savage elements, be lords of all! +Return, ye bears: ye ancient wolves, return +To this wide howling waste! The land is yours. +Who would live here, when liberty is gone! + +BOY. + +Hark! How the wind whistles, and the whirlpool roars, +I never saw a storm so fierce as this! + +FISHER. + +To level at the head of his own child! +Never had father such command before. +And shall not nature, rising in wild wrath, +Revolt against the deed? I should not marvel, +Though to the lake these rocks should bow their heads, +Though yonder pinnacles, yon towers of ice, +That, since creation's dawn, have known no thaw, +Should, from their lofty summits, melt away +Though yonder mountains, yon primeval cliffs, +Should topple down, and a new deluge whelm +Beneath its waves all living men's abodes! + + [_Bells heard_.] + +BOY. + +Hark, they are ringing on the mountain, yonder! +They surely see some vessel in distress. +And toll the bell that we may pray for it. + + [_Ascends a rock_.] + +FISHER. + +Woe to the bark that now pursues its course, +Rock'd in the cradle of these storm-tost waves! +Nor helm nor steersman here can aught avail; +The storm is master. Man is like a ball, +Toss'd 'twixt the winds and billows. Far or near, +No haven offers him its friendly shelter! +Without one ledge to grasp, the sheer smooth rocks +Look down inhospitably on his despair, +And only tender him their flinty breasts. + +BOY (_calling from above_). + +Father, a ship: from Flelen bearing down. + +FISHER. + +Heaven pity the poor wretches! When the storm +Is once entangled in this strait of ours, +It rages like some savage beast of prey, +Struggling against its cage's iron bars! +Howling, it seeks an outlet--all in vain; +For the rocks hedge it round on every side, +Walling the narrow gorge as high as Heaven. + + [_He ascends a cliff_.] + +BOY. + +It is the Governor of Uri's ship; +By its red poop I know it, and the flag. + +FISHER. + +Judgments of Heaven! Yes, it is he himself, +It is the Governor! Yonder he sails, +And with him bears the burden of his crimes. +The avenger's arm has not been slow to strike! +Now over him he knows a mightier lord. +These waves yield no obedience to his voice. +These rocks bow not their heads before his cap. +Boy, do not pray; stay not the Judge's arm! + +BOY. + +I pray not for the Governor, I pray +For Tell who's with him there on board the ship. + +FISHER. + +Alas, ye blind, unreasoning elements! +Must ye, in punishing one guilty head, +Destroy the vessel and the pilot too? + +BOY. + +See, see, they've clear'd the Buggisgrat;[56] but now +The blast, rebounding from the Devil's Minster,[56] +Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg.[56] +I cannot see them now. + +FISHERMAN. + + The Hakmesser[56] +Is there, that's founder'd many a gallant ship. +If they should fail to double that with skill, +Their bark will go to pieces on the rocks +That hide their jagged peaks below the lake. +The best of pilots, boy, they have on board. +If man could save them, Tell is just the man, +But he is manacled both hand and foot. + +[_Enter_ WILLIAM TELL, _with his cross-bow. He enters +precipitately, looks wildly round, and testifies the most +violent agitation. When he reaches the centre of the stage, +he throws himself upon his knees, and stretches out his +hands, first toward the earth, then toward Heaven_.] + +BOY (_observing him_). + +See, father! A man on's knees, who can it be? + +FISHER. + +He clutches at the earth with both his hands, +And looks as though he were beside himself. + +BOY (_advancing_). + +What do I see? Come father, come and look! + +FISHERMAN (_approaches_). + +Who is it? God in Heaven! What! William Tell! +How came you hither? Speak, Tell! + +BOY. + + Were you not +In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains? + +FISHER. + +Were they not carrying you to Kssnacht, Tell? + +TELL _(rising)._ + +I am released. + +FISHERMAN _and_ BOY. + + Released, oh miracle! + +BOY. + +Whence came you here + +TELL. + + From yonder vessel! + +FISHERMAN. + + What? + +BOY. + +Where is the Viceroy? + +TELL. + +Drifting on the waves. + +FISHER. + +Is't possible? But you! How are you here? +How 'scaped you from your fetters and the +storm? + +TELL. + +By God's most gracious providence. Attend. + +FISHERMAN _and_ BOY. + + Say on, say on! + +TELL. + + You know what passed at Altdorf. + +FISHER. + +I do--say on! + +TELL. + + How I was seized and bound, +And order'd by the governor to Kssnacht. + +FISHER. + +And how at Flelen he embarked with you. +All this we know. Say, how have you escaped? + +TELL. + +I lay on deck, fast bound with cords, disarm'd, +In utter hopelessness. I did not think +Again to see the gladsome light of day, +Nor the dear faces of my wife and boys, +And eyed disconsolate the waste of waters.-- + +FISHER. + +Oh, wretched man! + +TELL. + +Then we put forth; the Viceroy, +Rudolph der Harras, and their suite. My bow +And quiver lay astern beside the helm; +And just as we had reached the corner, near +The little Axen,[57] Heaven ordain'd it so, +That from the Gotthardt's gorge, a hurricane +Swept down upon us with such headlong force +That every oarsman's heart within him sank, +And all on board look'd for a watery grave. +Then heard I one of the attendant train, +Turning to Gessler, in this wise accost him: +"You see our danger, and your own, my lord, +And that we hover on the verge of death. +The boatmen there are powerless from fear, +Nor are they confident what course to take;-- +Now, here is Tell, a stout and fearless man, +And knows to steer with more than common skill; +How if we should avail ourselves of him +In this emergency?" The Viceroy then +Address'd me thus: "If thou wilt undertake +To bring us through this tempest safely, Tell, +I might consent to free thee from thy bonds." +I answer'd, "Yes, my lord; so help me God, +I'll see what can be done." On this they loosed +The cords that bound me, and I took my place +Beside the helm, and steered as best I could, +Yet ever eyed my shooting gear askance, +And kept a watchful eye upon the shore, +To find some point where I might leap to land: +And when I had descried a shelving crag, +That jutted, smooth atop into the lake-- + +FISHER. + +I know it. At the foot of the Great Axen; +So steep it looks, I never could have dreamt +That from a boat a man could leap to it. + +TELL. + +I bade the men to row with all their force +Until we came before the shelving ledge. +For there, I said, the danger will be past! +Stoutly they pull'd, and soon we near'd the point; +One prayer to God for His assisting grace, +And, straining every muscle, I brought round +The vessel's stern close to the rocky wall; +Then snatching up my weapons, with a bound +I swung myself upon the flattened shelf, +And with my feet thrust off, with all my might, +The puny bark into the watery hell. +There let it drift about, as Heaven ordains! +Thus am I here, deliver'd from the might +Of the dread storm, and man's more dreadful still. + +FISHER. + +Tell, Tell, the Lord has manifestly wrought +A miracle in thy behalf! I scarce +Can credit my own eyes. But tell me, now, +Whither you propose to betake yourself? +For you will be in peril, should perchance +The Viceroy 'scape this tempest with his life. + +TELL. + +I heard him say, as I lay bound on board, +At Brunnen he proposed to disembark, +And, crossing Schwytz, convey me to his castle. + +FISHER. + +Means he to go by land? + +TELL. + +So he intends. + +FISHER. + +Oh, then conceal yourself without delay! +Not twice will Heaven release you from his grasp. + +TELL. + +Which is the nearest way to Arth and Kssnacht? + +FISHER. + +The public road leads by the way of Steinen, +But there's a nearer road, and more retired, +That goes by Lowerz, which my boy can show you. + +TELL (_gives his hand_). + +May Heaven reward your kindness! Fare ye well. + + [_As he is going, he comes back_.] + +Did not you also take the oath at Rootli? +I heard your name, methinks. + +FISHERMAN. + + Yes, I was there, +And took the oath of the confederacy. + +TELL. + +Then do me this one favor: speed to Brglen-- +My wife is anxious at my absence--tell her +That I am, free, and in secure concealment. + +FISHER. + +But whither shall I tell her you have fled? + +TELL. + +You'll find her father with her, and some more, +Who took the oath with you upon the Rootli; +Bid them resolute and strong of heart-- +For Tell is free and master of his arm; +They shall hear further news of me ere long. + +FISHER. + +What have you, then, in view? Come, tell me frankly! + +TELL. + +When once 'tis _done_, 'twill be in every mouth. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISHER. + +Show him the way, boy. Heaven be his support! +Whate'er he has resolved, he'll execute. + + [_Exit_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_Baronial mansion of Attinghausen. The_ BARON _upon a couch +dying_. WALTER FRST, STAUFFACHER, MELCHTHAL, _and_ +BAUMGARTEN _attending round him_, WALTER TELL _kneeling +before the dying man_. + +FRST. + +All now is over with him. He is gone. + +STAUFF. + +He lies not like one dead. The feather, see, +Moves on his lips! His sleep is very calm, +And on his features plays a placid smile. + +[BAUMGARTEN _goes to the door and speaks with some one_.] + +FRST. + +Who's there? + +BAUMGARTEN (_returning_). + + Tell's wife, your daughter, she insists +That she must speak with you, and see her boy. + + [WALTER TELL _rises_.] + +FRST. + +I who need comfort--can I comfort her? +Does every sorrow centre on my head? + +HEDWIG (_forcing her way in_). + +Where is my child? unhand me! I must see him. + +STAUFF. + +Be calm! Reflect, you're in the house of death! + +HEDWIG (_falling upon her boy's neck_). + +My Walter! Oh, he yet is mine! + +WALTER. + +Dear mother! + +HEDWIG. + +And, is it surely so? Art thou unhurt? + + [_Gazing at him with anxious tenderness_.] + +And is it possible he aim'd at thee? +How could he do it? Oh, he has no heart-- +And he could wing an arrow at his child! + +FRST. + +His soul was rack'd with anguish when he did it. +No choice was left him but to shoot or die! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, if he had a father's heart, he would +Have sooner perish'd by a thousand deaths! + +STAUFF. + +You should be grateful for God's gracious care, +That ordered things so well. + +HEDWIG. + + Can I forget +What might have been the issue. God in Heaven, +Were I to live for centuries, I still +Should see my boy tied up--his father's mark-- +And still the shaft would quiver in my heart. + +MELCH. + +You know not how the Viceroy taunted him! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, ruthless heart of man! Offend his pride, +And reason in his breast forsakes her seat; +In his blind wrath he'll stake upon a cast +A child's existence, and a mother's heart! + +BAUM. + +Is then your husband's fate not hard enough, +That you embitter it by such reproaches? +Have you no feeling for his sufferings? + +HEDWIG (_turning to him and gazing full upon him_). + +Hast thou tears only for thy friend's distress? +Say, where were you when he--my noble Tell-- +Was bound in chains? Where was your friendship then? +The shameful wrong was done before your eyes; +Patient you stood, and let your friend be dragg'd, +Ay, from your very hands. Did ever Tell +Act thus to you? Did he stand whining by, +When on your heels the Viceroy's horsemen press'd, +And full before you roared the storm-toss'd lake? +Oh not with idle tears his pity show'd! +Into the boat he sprang, forgot his home, +His wife, his children, and delivered thee! + +FRST. + +It had been madness to attempt his rescue, +Unarmed, and few in numbers as we were. + +HEDWIG (_casting herself upon his bosom_). + +Oh, father, and thou, too, hast lost my Tell! +The country--all have lost him! All lament +His loss; and, oh, how he must pine for us! +Heaven keep his soul from sinking to despair! +No friend's consoling voice can penetrate +His dreary dungeon walls. Should he fall sick! +Ah! In the vapors of the murky vault +He must fall sick. Even as the Alpine rose +Grows pale and withers in the swampy air, +There is no life for him but in the sun +And in the breath of Heaven's fresh-blowing airs. +Imprison'd! Liberty to him is breath; +He cannot live in the rank dungeon air! + +STAUFF. + +Pray you be calm! And hand in hand we'll all +Combine to burst his prison doors. + +HEDWIG. + + He gone, +What have you power to do? While Tell was free, +There still, indeed, was hope--weak innocence +Had still a friend, and the oppress'd a stay. +Tell saved you all! You cannot all combined +Release him from his cruel prison bonds. + + [_The_ BARON _wakes_.] + +BAUM. + +Hush, hush! He starts! + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_sitting up_). + + Where is he? + +STAUFFACHER. + + Who? + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + He leaves me-- +In my last moments he abandons me. + +STAUFF. + +He means his nephew. Have they sent for him? + +FRST. + +He has been summoned. Cheer'ly, sir! Take comfort! +He has found his heart at last, and is our own. + +ATTING. + +Say, has he spoken for his native land? + +STAUFF. + +Ay, like a hero! + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + Wherefore comes he not, +That he may take my blessing ere I die? +I feel my life fast ebbing to a close. + +STAUFF. + +Nay, talk not thus, dear sir! This last short sleep +Has much refresh'd you, and your eye is bright. + +ATTING. + +Life is but pain, and that has left me now; +My sufferings, like my hopes, have pass'd away. + + [_Observing the boy_.] + + What boy is that? + +FRST. + + Bless him. Oh, good my lord! +He is my grandson, and is fatherless. + +[HEDWIG _kneels with the boy before the dying man_.] + +ATTING. + +And fatherless--I leave you all, ay, all! +Oh, wretched fate, that these old eyes should see +My country's ruin, as they close in death! +Must I attain the utmost verge of life, +To feel my hopes go with me to the grave? + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FRST). + +Shall he depart 'mid grief and gloom like this? +Shall not his parting moments be illumed +By hope's inspiring beams? My noble lord, +Raise up your drooping spirit! We are not +Forsaken quite--past all deliverance. + +ATTING. + +Who shall deliver you? + +FRST. + + Ourselves. For know, +The Cantons three are to each other pledged, +To hunt the tyrants from the land. The league +Has been concluded, and a sacred oath +Confirms our union. Ere another year +Begins its circling course--the blow shall fall. +In a free land your ashes shall repose. + +ATTING. + +The league concluded! Is it really so? + +MELCH. + +On one day shall the Cantons rise together. +All is prepared to strike--and to this hour +The secret closely kept, though hundreds share it; +The ground is hollow 'neath the tyrants' feet; +Their days of rule are number'd, and ere long +No trace will of their hateful sway be left. + +ATTING. + +Ay, but their castles, how to master them? + +MELCH. + +On the same day they, too, are doom'd to fall. + +ATTING. + +And are the nobles parties to this league? + +STAUFF. + +We trust to their assistance, should we need it; +As yet the peasantry alone have sworn. + +ATTING. (_raising himself up in great astonishment_). + +And have the peasantry dared such a deed +On their own charge, without the nobles' aid-- +Relied so much on their own proper strength? +Nay then, indeed, they want our help no more; +We may go down to death cheer'd by the thought +That after us the majesty of man +Will live, and be maintain'd by other hands. + +[_He lays his hand upon the head of the child who is +kneeling before him_.] + +From this boy's head, whereon the apple lay, +Your new and better liberty shall spring; +The old is crumbling down--the times are changing-- +And from the ruins blooms a fairer life. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FRST). + +See, see, what splendor streams around his eye! +This is not Nature's last expiring flame, +It is the beam of renovated life. + +ATTING. + +From their old towers the nobles are descending, +And swearing in the towns the civic oath. +In Uechtland and Thurgau the work's begun; +The noble Berne lifts her commanding head, +And Freyburg is a stronghold of the free; +The stirring Zurich calls her guilds to arms;-- +And now, behold!--the ancient might of kings +Is shiver'd 'gainst her everlasting walls. + +[_He speaks what follows with a prophetic tone; his +utterance rising into enthusiasm_.] + +I see the princes and their haughty peers, +Clad all in steel, come striding on to crush +A harmless shepherd race with maild hand. +Desp'rate the conflict: 'tis for life or death; +And many a pass will tell to after years +Of glorious victories sealed in foemen's blood.[58] +The peasant throws himself with naked breast, +A willing victim on their serried spears; +They yield--the flower of chivalry's cut down, +And Freedom waves her conquering banner high. + +[_Grasps the hands of_ WALTER FRST _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Hold fast together, then--forever fast! +Let freedom's haunts be one in heart and mind! +Set watches on your mountain tops, that league +May answer league, when comes the hour to strike. +Be one--be one--be one-- + +[_He falls back upon the cushion. His lifeless hands +continue to grasp those of_ FRST _and_ STAUFFACHER, _who +regard him for some moments in silence, and then retire, +overcome with sorrow. Meanwhile the servants have quietly +pressed into the chamber, testifying different degrees of +grief. Some kneel down beside him and weep on his body: +while this scene is passing, the castle bell tolls_.] + +RUDENZ (_entering hurriedly_). + +Lives he? Oh say, can he still hear my voice? + +[Illustration: DEATH OF ATTINGHAUSEN _From the Painting by +Wilhelm von Kaulbach_] + +FRST (_averting his face_). + +You are our seignior and protector now; +Henceforth this castle bears another name. + +RUDENZ (_gazing at the body with deep emotion_). + +Oh, God! Is my repentance, then, too late? +Could he not live some few brief moments more, +To see the change that has come o'er my heart? +Oh, I was deaf to his true counselling voice, +While yet he walked on earth. Now he is gone-- +Gone, and for ever--leaving me the debt-- +The heavy debt I owe him--undischarged! +Oh, tell me! did he part in anger with me? + +STAUFF. + +When dying, he was told what you had done, +And bless'd the valor that inspired your words! + +RUDENZ (_kneeling down beside the dead body_). + +Yes, sacred relics of a man beloved! +Thou lifeless corpse! Here, on thy death-cold hand, +Do I abjure all foreign ties for ever! +And to my country's cause devote myself. +I am a Switzer, and will act as one, +With my whole heart and soul. + + [_Rises_.] + + Mourn for our friend, +Our common parent, yet be not dismay'd! +'Tis not alone his lands that I inherit-- +His heart--his spirit, have devolved on me; +And my young arm shall execute the task, +Which in his hoary age he could not pay. +Give me your hands, ye venerable sires! +Thine, Melchthal, too! Nay, do not hesitate, +Nor from me turn distrustfully away. +Accept my plighted vow--my knightly oath! + +FRST. + +Give him your hands, my friends! A heart like his, +That sees and owns its error, claims our trust. + +MELCH. + +You ever held the peasantry in scorn; +What surety have we, that you mean us fair? + +RUDENZ. + +Oh, think not of the error of my youth! + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ MELCHTHAL). + +Be one! They were our father's latest words. +See they be not forgotten! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Take my hand-- +peasant's hand--and with it, noble sir, +The gage and the assurance of a man! +Without us, sir, what would the nobles be? +Our order is more ancient, too, than yours! + +RUDENZ. + +I honor it--will shield it with my sword! + +MELCH. + +The arm, my lord, that tames the stubborn earth, +And makes its bosom blossom with increase, +Can also shield its owner's breast at need. + +RUDENZ. + +Then you shall shield my breast, and I will yours, +Thus each be strengthen'd by the other's strength. +Yet wherefore talk we, while our native land +Is still to alien tyranny a prey? +First let us sweep the foemen from the soil, +Then reconcile our difference in peace! + + [_After a moment's pause_.] + +How! You are silent! Not a word for me? +And have I yet no title to your trust?-- +Then must I force my way, despite your will, +Into the League you secretly have form'd. +You've held a Diet on the Rootli--I +Know this--know all that was transacted there; +And though not trusted with your secret, I +Have kept it closely like a sacred pledge. +Trust me--I never was my country's foe, +Nor would I ever have against you stood! +Yet you did wrong--to put your rising off. +Time presses! We must strike, and swiftly too! +Already Tell is lost through your delay. + +STAUFF. + +We swore that we should wait till Christmastide. + +RUDENZ. + +I was not there--I did not take the oath. +If you delay, I will not! + +MELCHTHAL. + + What! You would-- + +RUDENZ. + +I count me now among the country's chiefs, +And my first duty is to guard your rights. + +FRST. + +Your nearest and your holiest duty is +Within the earth to lay these dear remains. + +RUDENZ. + +When we have set the country free, we'll place +Our fresh victorious wreaths upon his bier. +Oh, my dear friends, 'tis not your cause alone!-- +with the tyrants have a cause to fight, +That more concerns myself. My Bertha's gone, +Has disappear'd--been carried off by stealth-- +Stolen from amongst us by their ruffian hands! + +STAUFF. + +So fell an outrage has the tyrant dared +Against a lady free and nobly born? + +RUDENZ. + +Alas! my friends, I promised help to you, +And I must first implore it for myself! +She that I love, is stolen--is forced away, +And who knows where she's by the tyrant hid, +Or with what outrages his ruffian crew +May force her into nuptials she detests? +Forsake me not!--Oh, help me to her rescue! +She loves you! Well, oh well, has she deserved, +That all should rush to arms in her behalf! + +STAUFF. + +What course do you propose? + +RUDENZ. + + Alas! I know not. +In the dark mystery that shrouds her fate-- +In the dread agony of this suspense, +Where I can grasp at naught of certainty-- +One single ray of comfort beams upon me. +From out the ruins of the tyrant's power +Alone can she be rescued from the grave. +Their strongholds must be levell'd, every one, +Ere we can penetrate her dungeon walls. + +MELCH. + +Come, lead us on! We follow! Why defer +Until tomorrow what today may do? +Tell's arm was free when we at Rootli swore. +This foul enormity was yet undone. +And change of circumstance brings change of vow; +Who such a coward as to waver still? + +RUDENZ (_to_ WALTER FRST). + +Meanwhile to arms, and wait in readiness +The fiery signal on the mountain tops! +For swifter than a boat can scour the lake +Shall you have tidings of our victory; +And when you see the welcome flames ascend, +Then, like the lightning, swoop upon the foe, +And lay the despots and their creatures low! + + +SCENE III + + +_The pass near Kssnacht, sloping down from behind, with +rocks on either side. The travelers are visible upon the +heights, before they appear on the stage. Rocks all around +the stage. Upon one of the foremost a projecting cliff +overgrown with brushwood._ + +TELL (_enters with his cross-bow_). + +Through this ravine he needs must come. There is +No other way to Kssnacht. Here I'll do it! +The ground is everything I could desire. +Yon elder bush will hide me from his view, +And from that point my shaft is sure to hit. +The straitness of the gorge forbids pursuit. +Now, Gessler, balance thine account with Heaven! +Thou must away from earth--thy sand is run. +Quiet and harmless was the life I led, +My bow was bent on forest game alone; +No thoughts of murder rested on my soul. +But thou hast scared me from my dream of peace; +The milk of human kindness thou hast turn'd +To rankling poison in my breast, and made +Appalling deeds familiar to my soul. +He who could make his own child's head his mark, +Can speed his arrow to his foeman's heart. +My boys, poor innocents, my loyal wife, +Must be protected, tyrant, from thy rage! +When last I drew my bow--with trembling hand-- +And thou, with fiendishly remorseless glee +Forced me to level at my own boy's head, +When I, imploring pity, writhed before thee, +Then in the anguish of my soul, I vow'd +A fearful oath, which met God's ear alone, +That when my bow next wing'd an arrow's flight, +Its aim should be thy heart. The vow I made, +Amid the hellish torments of that moment, +I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it. +Thou art my lord, my Emperor's delegate; +Yet would the Emperor not have stretch'd his power +So far as thou halt done. He sent thee here +To deal forth law--stern law--for he is wroth, +But not to wanton with unbridled will +In every cruelty, with fiend-like joy:-- +There lives a God to punish and avenge. +Come forth, thou bringer once of bitter pangs, +My precious jewel now--my chiefest treasure-- +A mark I'll set thee, which the cry of grief +Could never penetrate--but thou shalt pierce it-- +And thou, my trusty bow-string, that so oft +For sport has served me faithfully and well, +Desert me not in this dread hour of need-- +Only be true this once, my own good cord, +That hast so often wing'd the biting shaft:-- +For shouldst thou fly successless from my hand, +I have no second to send after thee. + + [_Travelers pass over the stage_.] + +I'll sit me down upon this bench of stone, +Hewn for the way-worn traveler's brief repose-- +For here there is no home. Men hurry past +Each other, with quick step and careless look, +Nor stay to question of their grief. Here goes +The merchant, all anxiety--the pilgrim, +With scantly furnished scrip--the pious monk, +The scowling robber, and the jovial player, +The carrier with his heavy-laden horse +That comes to us from the far haunts of men; +For every road conducts to the world's end. +They all push onward--every man intent +On his own several business--mine is murder. + + [_Sits down_.] + +Time was, my dearest children, when with joy +You hail'd your father's safe return to home +From his long mountain toils; for, when he came, +He ever brought with him some little gift-- +A lovely Alpine flower--a curious bird-- +Or elf-bolt, such as on the hills are found. +But now he goes in quest of other game, +Sits in this gorge, with murder in his thoughts, +And for his enemy's life-blood lies in wait. +But still it is of you alone he thinks, +Dear children. 'Tis to guard your innocence, +To shield you from the tyrant's fell revenge, +He bends his bow to do a deed of blood! + + [_Rises_.] + +Well--I am watching for a noble prey! +Does not the huntsman, with unflinching heart, +Roam for whole days, when winter frosts are keen, +Leap at the risk of death from rock to rock-- +And climb the jagged, slippery steeps, to which +His limbs are glued by his own streaming blood-- +And all to hunt a wretched chamois down? +A far more precious prize is now my aim-- +The heart of that dire foe, who seeks my life. + +[_Sprightly music heard in the distance, which comes +gradually nearer_.] + +From my first years of boyhood I have used +The bow--been practised in the archer's feats; +The bull's eye many a time my shafts have hit, +And many a goodly prize have I brought home +From competitions. But this day I'll make +My master-shot, and win what's best to win +In the whole circuit of our mountain range. + +[_A bridal party passes over the stage, and goes up the +pass_. TELL _gazes at it, leaning on his bow. He is joined +by_ STUSSI _the Ranger_.] + +STUSSI. + +There goes the cloister bailiff's bridal train +Of Mrlischachen. A rich fellow he! +And has some half score pastures on the Alps. +He goes to fetch his bride from Imisee. +At Kssnacht there will be high feast tonight. +Come with us--ev'ry honest man is asked. + +TELL. + +A gloomy guest fits not a wedding feast. + +STUSSI. + +If you've a trouble, dash it from your heart! +Take what Heaven sends! The times are heavy now, +And we must snatch at pleasure as it flies. +Here 'tis a bridal, there a burial. + +TELL. + +And oft the one close on the other treads. + +STUSSI. + +So runs the world we live in. Everywhere +Mischance befalls and misery enough. +In Glarus there has been a landslip, and +A whole side of the Glrnisch has fallen in. + +TELL. + +How! Do the very hills begin to quake? +There is stability for naught on earth. + +STUSSI. + +Of strange things, too, we hear from other parts. +I spoke with one but now, from Baden come, +Who said a knight was on his way to court, +And, as he rode along, a swarm of wasps +Surrounded him, and settling on his horse, +So fiercely stung the beast, that it fell dead, +And he proceeded to the court on foot. + +TELL. + +The weak are also furnish'd with a sting. + +ARMGART (_enters with several children, and places herself +at the entrance of the pass_). + +STUSSI. + +'Tis thought to bode disaster to the land-- +Some horrid deeds against the course of nature. + +TELL. + +Why, every day brings forth such fearful deeds; +There needs no prodigy to herald them. + +STUSSI. + +Ay, happy he, who tills his field in peace, +And sits at home untroubled with his kin. + +TELL. + +The very meekest cannot be at peace +If his ill neighbor will not let him rest. + +[TELL _looks frequently with restless expectation toward the +top of the pass_.] + +STUSSI. + +So fare you well! You're waiting someone here? + +TELL. + +I am. + +STUSSI. + + God speed you safely to your home! +You are from Uri, are you not? His grace +The governor's expected thence today. + +TRAVELER (_entering_). + +Look not to see the governor today. +The streams are flooded by the heavy rains, +And all the bridges have been swept away. + + [TELL _rises_.] + +ARMGART (_coming forward_). + +Gessler not coming? + +STUSSI. + + Want you aught with him? + +ARMGART. + +Alas, I do! + +STUSSI. + +Why then, thus place yourself +Where you obstruct his passage down the pass? + +ARMGART. + +Here he cannot escape me. He _must_ hear me. + +FRIESSHARDT (_coming hastily down the pass and calls upon +the stage_). + +Make way, make way! My lord, the governor, +Is close behind me, riding down the pass. + + [_Exit_ TELL.] + +ARMGART (_excitedly_). + +The Viceroy comes! + +[_She goes toward the pass with her children_. GESSLER _and_ +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS _appear on horseback at the upper end of +the pass_.] + +STUSSI (_to_ FRIESSHARDT). + +How got ye through the stream, +When all the bridges have been carried down? + +FRIESS. + +We've fought, friend, with the tempest on the lake; +An Alpine torrent's nothing after that. + +STUSSI. + +How! Were you out, then, in that dreadful storm? + +FRIESS. + +We were! I'll not forget it while I live. + +STUSSI. + +Stay, speak-- + +FRIESS. + +I can't--must to the castle haste, +And tell them, that the governor's at hand. + + [_Exit_.] + +STUSSI. + +If honest men, now, had been in the ship, +It had gone down with every soul on board:-- +Some folks are proof 'gainst fire and water both. + + [_Looking round_.] + +Where has the huntsman gone with whom I spoke? + + [_Exit_.] + +_Enter_ GESSLER _and_ RUDOLPH DER HARRAS _on horseback_ + +GESSLER. + +Say what you will; I am the Emperor's liege, +And how to please him my first thought must be. +He did not send me here to fawn and cringe, +And coax these boors into good humor. No! +Obedience he must have. The struggle's this: +Is king or peasant to be sovereign here? + +ARMGART. + +Now is the moment! Now for my petition! + +GESSLER. + +'Twas not in sport that I set up the cap +In Altdorf--or to try the people's hearts-- +All this I knew before. I set it up +That they might learn to bend those stubborn necks +They carry far too proudly--and I placed +What well I knew their pride could never brook +Full in the road, which they perforce must pass, +That, when their eye fell on it, they might call +That lord to mind whom they too much forget. + +HARRAS. + +But surely, sir, the people have some rights-- + +GESSLER. + +This is no time to settle what they are. +Great projects are at work, and hatching now. +The Imperial house seeks to extend its power. +Those vast designs of conquest which the sire +Has gloriously begun, the son will end. +This petty nation is a stumbling-block-- +One way or other, it must be put down. + +[_They are about to pass on_. ARMGART _throws herself down +before_ GESSLER.] + +ARMGART. + +Mercy, lord governor! Oh, pardon, pardon! + +GESSLER. + +Why do you cross me on the public road? +Stand back, I say. + +ARMGART. + + My husband lies in prison; +My wretched orphans cry for bread. Have pity, +Pity, my lord, upon our sore distress! + +HARRAS. + +Who are you? and your husband, what is he? + +ARMGART. + +A poor wild hay-man of the Rigiberg, +Kind sir, who on the brow of the abyss, +Mows the unowner'd grass from craggy shelves, +To which the very cattle dare not climb. + +HARRAS (_to_ GESSLER). + +By Heaven! a sad and pitiable life! +I pray you set the wretched fellow free. +How great soever may be his offence, +His horrid trade is punishment enough. + + [_To_ ARMGART.] + +You shall have justice. To the castle bring +Your suit. This is no place to deal with it. + +ARMGART. + +No, no, I will not stir from where I stand, +Until your grace gives me my husband back. +Six months already has he been shut up, +And waits the sentence of a judge in vain. + +GESSLER. + +How! would you force me, woman? Hence! Begone! + +ARMGART. + +Justice, my lord! Ay, justice! Thou are judge, +Vice-regent of the Emperor--of Heaven. +Then do thy duty--as thou hopest for justice +From Him who rules above, show it to us! + +GESSLER. + +Hence! Drive this insolent rabble from my sight! + +ARMGART (_seizing his horse's reins_). + +No, no, by Heaven, I've nothing more to lose.-- +Thou stir'st not, Viceroy, from this spot, until +Thou dost me fullest justice. Knit thy brows, +And roll thine eyes--I fear not. Our distress +Is so extreme, so boundless, that we care +No longer for thine anger. + +GESSLER. + + Woman, hence! +Give way, or else my horse shall ride you down. + +ARMGART. + + Well, let it!--there-- + +[_Throws her children and herself upon the ground before him_.] + + Here on the ground I lie, +I and my children. Let the wretched orphans +Be trodden by thy horse into the dust! +It will not be the worst that thou hast done. + +HARRAS. + +Are you mad, woman? + +ARMGART (_continuing with vehemence_). + + Many a day thou hast +Trampled the Emperor's lands beneath thy feet. +Oh, I am but a woman! Were I man, +I'd find some better thing to do, than here +Lie grovelling in the dust. + +[_The music of the bridal party is again heard +from the top of the pass, but more softly_.] + +GESSLER. + + Where are my knaves? +Drag her away, lest I forget myself, +And do some deed I may repent me of. + +HARRAS. + +My lord, the servants cannot force their way; +The pass is block'd up by a bridal train. + +GESSLER. + +Too mild a ruler am I to this people, +Their tongues are all too bold--nor have they yet +Been tamed to due submission, as they shall be. +I must take order for the remedy; +I will subdue this stubborn mood of theirs, +This braggart spirit of freedom I will crush, +I will proclaim a new law through the land; +I will-- + +[_An arrow pierces him--he puts his hand on his heart, and +is about to sink--with a feeble voice_.] + + Oh God, have mercy on my soul! + +HARRAs. + +My lord! my lord! Oh God! What's this? Whence came it? + +ARMGART (_starts up_). + +Dead, dead! He reels, he falls! 'Tis in his heart! + +HARRAS (_springs from his horse_). + +Horror of horrors! Heavenly powers! Sir knight, +Address yourself for mercy to your God! +You are a dying man. + +GESSLER. + +That shot was Tell's. + +[_He slides from his horse into the arms of_ RUDOLPH DER +HARRAS, _who lays him down upon the beach_. TELL _appears +above upon the rocks_.] + +TELL. + +Thou know'st the marksman--I, and I alone. +Now are our homesteads free, and innocence +From thee is safe: thou'lt be our curse no more. + + [TELL _disappears. People rush in_.] + +STUSSI. + +What is the matter? Tell me what has happen'd? + +ARMGART. + +The Viceroy's shot--pierced by a cross-bow bolt! + +PEOPLE (_running in_). + +Who has been shot? + +[_While the foremost of the marriage party are coming on the +stage, the hindmost are still upon the heights. The music +continues_.] + +HARRAS. + +He's bleeding fast to death. +Away, for help--pursue the murderer! +Unhappy man, is this to be your end? +You would not listen to my warning words. + +STUSSI. + +By Heaven, his cheek is pale! Life's ebbing fast. + +MANY VOICES. + +Who did the deed? + +HARRAS. + +What! Are the people mad, +That they make music to a murder? Silence! + +[_Music breaks off suddenly. People continue to flock in_.] + +Speak, if you can, my lord. Have you no charge +To trust me with? + +[GESSLER _makes signs with his hand, which he repeats with +vehemence, when he finds they are not understood_.] + + Where shall I take you to? +To Kssnacht? What you say I can't make out. +Oh, do not grow impatient! Leave all thought +Of earthly things and make your peace with Heaven. + +[_The whole marriage party gather round the dying man_.] + +STUSSI. + +See there! how pale he grows! Death's gathering now +About his heart--his eyes grow dim and glazed. + +ARMGART (_holds up a child_). + +Look, children, how a tyrant dies! + +HARRAS. + + Mad hag! +Have you no touch of feeling, that your eyes +Gloat on a sight so horrible as this? +Help me--take hold. What, will not one assist +To pull the torturing arrow from his breast? + +WOMEN. + +What! touch the man whom God's own hand has struck! + +HARRAS. + +All curses light on you! [_Draws his sword_.] + +STUSSI (_seizes his arm_). + + Gently, sir knight! +Your power is at end. 'Twere best forbear. +Our country's foe has fallen. We will brook +No further violence. We are free men. + +ALL. + +The country's free. + +HARRAS. + +And is it come to this? +Fear and obedience at an end so soon? + +[_To the soldiers of the guard who are thronging in_.] + +You see, my friends, the bloody piece of work +Has here been done. 'Tis now too late for help, +And to pursue the murderer were vain. +We've other things to think of. On to Kssnacht, +And let us save that fortress for the king! +For in a moment such as this, all ties +Of order, fealty and faith are rent, +And we can trust to no man's loyalty. + +[_As he is going out with the soldiers, six_ FRATRES +MISERICORDI _appear_.] + +ARMGART. + +Here comes the brotherhood of mercy. Room! + +STUSSI. + +The victim's slain, and now the ravens stoop. + +BROTHERS OF MERCY (_form a semicircle round the body, and +sing in solemn tones)._ + +Death hurries on with hasty stride, + No respite man from him may gain, + +He cuts him down, when life's full tide + Is throbbing strong in every vein. +Prepared or not the call to hear, + He must before his Judge appear. + +[_While they are repeating the two last lines, the curtain +falls_.] + + +ACT V + +SCENE I + +_A common near Altdorf. In the background to the right the +Keep of Uri, with the scaffold still standing, as in the +Third Scene of the first Act. To the left, the view opens +upon numerous mountains, on all of which signal fires are +burning. Day is breaking, and distant bells are heard +ringing in several directions._ + +RUODI, KUONI, WERNI, MASTER MASON, _and many other country +people, also women and children_. + +RUODI. + +See there! The beacons on the mountain heights! + +MASON. + +Hark how the bells above the forest toll! + +RUODI. + +The enemy's routed. + +MASON. + +And the forts are storm'd. + +RUODI. + +And we of Uri, do we still endure +Upon our native soil the tyrant's keep? +Are we the last to strike for liberty? + +MASON. + +Shall the yoke stand, that was to curb our necks? +Up! Tear it to the ground! + +ALL. + +Down, down with it! + +RUODI. + +Where is the Stier of Uri? + +URI. + + Here. What would ye? + +RUODI. + +Up to your tower, and wind us such a blast +As shall resound afar, from peak to peak; +Rousing the echoes of each glen and hill, +To rally swiftly all the mountain men! + + [_Exit_ STIER OF URI--_Enter_ WALTER FRST.] + +FRST. + +Stay, stay, my friends! As yet we have not learn'd +What has been done in Unterwald and Schwytz. +Let's wait till we receive intelligence! + +RUODI. + +Wait, wait for what? The accursed tyrant's dead. +And on us freedom's glorious day has dawn'd! + +MASON. + +How! Are these flaming signals not enough, +That blaze on every mountain top around? + +RUODI. + +Come all, fall to--come, men and women, all! +Destroy the scaffold! Burst the arches! Down, +Down with the walls, let not a stone remain! + +MASON. + +Come, comrades, come! We built it, and we know +How best to hurl it down. + +ALL. + +Come! Down with it! + + [_They fall upon the building on every side_.] + +FRST. + +The floodgate's burst. They're not to be restrained. + + [_Enter_ MELCHTHAL _and_ BAUMGARTEN.] + +MELCH. + +What! Stands the fortress still, when Sarnen lies +In ashes, and the Rossberg's in our hands? + +FRST. + +You, Melchthal, here? D'ye bring us liberty? +Are all the Cantons from our tyrants freed? + +MELCH. + +We've swept them from the soil. Rejoice, my friend, +Now, at this very moment, while we speak, +There's not one tyrant left in Switzerland! + +FRST. + +How did you get the forts into your power? + +MELCH. + +Rudenz it was who by a bold assault +With manly valor mastered Sarnen's keep. +The Rossberg I had storm'd the night before. +But hear what chanced! Scarce had we driven the foe +Forth from the keep, and given it to the flames, +That now rose crackling upwards to the skies, +When from the blaze rush'd Diethelm, Gessler's page, +Exclaiming, "Lady Bertha will be burnt!" + +FRST. + + Good heavens! + +[_The beams of the scaffold are heard falling_.] + +MELCH. + +'Twas she herself. Here had she been +By Gessler's orders secretly immured. +Up sprang Rudenz in frenzy. For even now +The beams and massive posts were crashing down, +And through the stifling smoke the piteous shrieks +Of the unhappy lady. + +FRST. + +Is she saved? + +MELCH. + +'Twas not a time to hesitate or pause! +Had he been but our baron, and no more, +We should have been most chary of our lives; +But he was our confederate, and Bertha +Honor'd the people. So, without a thought, +We risk'd the worst, and rush'd into the flames. + +FRST. + +But is she saved? + +MELCH. + + + She is. Rudenz and I +Bore her between us from the blazing pile, +With crashing timbers toppling all around. +And when she had revived, the danger past, +And raised her eyes to look upon the sun, +The baron fell upon my breast; and then +A silent vow between us two was sworn, +A vow that, welded in yon furnace heat, +Will last through ev'ry shock of time and fate. + +FRST. + +Where is the Landenberg? + +MELCHTHAL. + + Across the Brnig. +'Twas not my fault he bore his sight away, +He who had robb'd my father of his eyes! +He fled--I followed--overtook him soon, +And dragg'd him to my father's feet. The sword +Already quiver'd o'er the caitiff's head, +When from the pity of the blind old man, +He wrung the life which, craven-like, he begged. +He swore URPHEDE,[59] never to return +He'll keep his oath, for he has felt our arm. + +FRST. + +Oh, well for you, you have not stain'd with blood +Our spotless victory! + +CHILDREN (_running across the stage with fragments of_ +_wood_). + + We're free! we're free! + +FRST. + +Oh! what a joyous scene! These children will +Remember it when all their heads are gray. + +[_Girls bring in the cap upon a pole. The whole stage is +filled with people_.] + +RUODI. + +Here is the cap, to which we were to bow! + +BAUM. + +What shall we do with it? Do you decide! + +FRST. + +Heavens! 'Twas beneath this cap my grandson stood! + +SEVERAL VOICES. + +Destroy the emblem of the tyrant's power! +Let it be burnt! + +FRST. + +No. Rather be preserved; +'Twas once the instrument of despots--now +'Twill of our freedom be a lasting sign. + +[_Peasants, men, women, and children, some standing, others +sitting upon the beams of the shattered scaffold, all +picturesquely grouped, in a large semicircle_.] + +MELCH. + +Thus now, my friends, with light and merry hearts, +We stand upon the wreck of tyranny; +And gloriously the work has been fulfilled +Which we at Rootli pledged ourselves to do. + +FRST. + +No, not fulfilled. The work is but begun: +Courage and concord firm, we need them both; +For, be assured, the king will make all speed, +To avenge his Viceroy's death, and reinstate, +By force of arms, the tyrant we've expell'd. + +MELCH. + +Why let him come, with all his armaments! +The foe's expelled that press'd us from within; +The foe without we are prepared to meet? + +RUODI. + +The passes to our Cantons are but few; +These with our bodies we will block, we will! + +BAUM. + +Knit are we by a league will ne'er be rent, +And all his armies shall not make us quail. + +[_Enter_ RSSELMANN _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +RSSELMANN (_speaking as he enters_). + +These are the awful judgments of the Lord! + +PEASANT. + +What is the matter? + +RSSELMANN. + +In what times we live! + +FRST. + +Say on, what is't? Ha, Werner, is it you? +What tidings? + +PEASANT. + +What's the matter? + +RSSELMANN. + +Hear and wonder! + +STAUFF. + +We are released from one great cause of dread. + +RSSEL. + +The Emperor is murdered. + +FRST. + +Gracious Heaven! + +[PEASANTS _rise up and throng round_ STAUFFACHER.] + +ALL. + +Murder'd!--the Emp'ror? What! The Emp'ror! Hear! + +MELCH. + +Impossible! How came you by the news? + +STAUFF. + +'Tis true! Near Bruck, by the assassin's hand, +King Albert fell. A most trustworthy man, +John Mller, from Schaffhausen, brought the news. + +FRST. + +Who dared commit so horrible a deed? + +STAUFF. + +The doer makes the deed more dreadful still; +It was his nephew, his own brother's son, +Duke John of Austria, who struck the blow. + +MELCH. + +What drove him to so dire a parricide? + +STAUFF. + +The Emp'ror kept his patrimony back, +Despite his urgent importunities; +'Twas said, he meant to keep it for himself, +And with a mitre to appease the duke. +However this may be, the duke gave ear +To the ill counsel of his friends in arms; +And with the noble lords, Von Eschenbach, +Von Tegerfeld, Von Wart and Palm, resolved, +Since his demands for justice were despised, +With his own hands to take revenge at least. + +FRST. + +But say--the dreadful deed, how was it done? + +STAUFF. + +The king was riding down from Stein to Baden. +Upon his way to join the court at Rheinfeld-- +With him a train of high-born gentlemen, +And the young Princes John and Leopold; +And when they'd reach'd the ferry of the Reuss, +The assassins forced their way into the boat, +To separate the Emperor from his suite. +His highness landed, and was riding on +Across a fresh plough'd field--where once, they say, +A mighty city stood in Pagan times-- +With Habsburg's ancient turrets full in sight, +That was the cradle of his princely race. +When Duke John plunged a dagger in his throat, +Palm ran him thro' the body with his lance, +And Eschenbach, to end him, clove his skull; +So down he sank, all weltering in his blood, +On his own soil, by his own kinsmen slain. +Those on the opposite bank beheld the deed, +But, parted by the stream, could only raise +An unavailing cry of loud lament. +A poor old woman, sitting by the way, +Raised him, and on her breast he bled to death. + +MELCH. + +Thus has he dug his own untimely grave, +Who sought insatiably to grasp at all. + +STAUFF. + +The country round is fill'd with dire alarm, +The passes are blockaded everywhere, +And sentinels on ev'ry frontier set; +E'en ancient Zurich barricades her gates, +That have stood open for these thirty years, +Dreading the murd'rers and th' avengers more. +For cruel Agnes comes, the Hungarian queen, +By all her sex's tenderness untouch'd, +Arm'd with the thunders of the ban, to wreak +Dire vengeance for her parent's royal blood +On the whole race of those that murder'd him-- +Their servants, children, children's children--yea, +Upon the stones that built their castle walls. +Deep has she sworn a vow to immolate +Whole generations on her father's tomb, +And bathe in blood as in the dew of May. + +MELCH. + +Is't known which way the murderers have fled? + +STAUFF. + +No sooner had they done the deed, than they +Took flight each following a different route, +And parted ne'er to see each other more. +Duke John must still be wand'ring in the mountains. + +FRST. + +And thus their crime has borne no fruit for them. +Revenge bears never fruit. Itself, it is +The dreadful food it feeds on; its delight +Is murder--its satiety despair. + +STAUFF. + +The assassins reap no profit by their crime; +But we shall pluck with unpolluted hands +The teeming fruits of their most bloody deed. +For we are ransomed from our heaviest fear; +The direst foe of liberty has fallen, +And, 'tis reported, that the crown will pass +From Habsburg's house into another line; +The Empire is determined to assert +Its old prerogative of choice, I hear. + +FRST _and several others_. + +Is any named? + +STAUFFACHER. + +The Count of Luxembourg's +Already chosen by the general voice. + +FRST. + +'Tis well we stood so staunchly by the Empire! +Now we may hope for justice, and with cause. + +STAUFF. + +The Emperor will need some valiant friends. +He will 'gainst Austria's vengeance be our +shield. + +[_The peasantry embrace. Enter_ SACRISTAN _with Imperial +messenger_.] + +SACRIST. + +Here are the worthy chiefs of Switzerland! + +RSSELMANN _and several others_. + +Sacrist, what news? + +SACRISTAN. + +A courier brings this letter. + +ALL (_to_ WALTER FRST). + + Open and read it. + +FRST (_reading_). + + "To the worthy men +Of Uri, Schwytz, and Unterwald, the Queen +Elizabeth sends grace and all good wishes!" + +MANY VOICES. + +What wants the queen with us? Her reign is done. + +FRST (_reads_). + +"In the great grief and doleful widowhood, +In which the bloody exit of her lord +Has plunged the queen, still in her mind she bears +The ancient faith and love of Switzerland." + +MELCH. + +She ne'er did that in her prosperity. + +RSSEL. + +Hush, let us hear! + +FRST (_reads_). + +"And she is well assured, +Her people will in due abhorrence hold +The perpetrators of this damnd deed. +On the three Cantons, therefore, she relies, +That they in nowise lend the murderers aid; +But rather, that they loyally assist, +To give them up to the avenger's hand, +Remembering the love and grace which they +Of old received from Rudolph's royal house." + +[_Symptoms of dissatisfaction among the peasantry_.] + +MANY VOICES. + +The love and grace! + +STAUFF. + +Grace from the father we, indeed, received, +But what have we to boast of from the song +Did he confirm the charter of our freedom, +As all preceding emperors had done? +Did he judge righteous judgment, or afford +Shelter, or stay, to innocence oppress'd? +Nay, did he e'en give audience to the men +We sent to lay our grievances before him? +Not one of all these things did the king do, +And had we not ourselves achieved our rights +By our own stalwart hands, the wrongs we bore +Had never touch'd him. Gratitude to him! +Within these vales he sowed no seeds of that; +He stood upon an eminence--he might +Have been a very father to his people, +But all his aim and pleasure was to raise +Himself and his own house: and now may those +Whom he has aggrandized, lament for him; + +FRST. + + We will not triumph in his fall, nor now +Recall to mind the wrongs that we endured. +Far be't from us! Yet, that we should avenge +The sovereign's death, who never did us good, +And hunt down those who ne'er molested us, +Becomes us not, nor is our duty. Love +Must be a tribute free, and unconstrain'd; +From all enforced duties death absolves, +And unto him we owe no further debt. + +MELCH. + +And if the queen laments within her bower, +Accusing Heaven in sorrow's wild despair; +Here see a people, from its anguish freed, +To that same Heav'n send up its thankful praise. +Who would reap tears must sow the seeds of love. + + [_Exit the Imperial Courier_.] + +STAUFFACHER (_to the people_). + +But where is Tell? Shall he, our freedom's founder, +Alone be absent from our festival? +He did the most--endured the worst of all. +Come--to his dwelling let us all repair, +And bid the Savior of our country hail! + + [_Exeunt omnes_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_Interior of_ TELL's _cottage. A fire burning on the hearth. The open door +shows the scene outside._ + +HEDWIG, WALTER, _and_ WILLIAM + +HEDWIG. + +My own dear boys! your father comes today; +He lives, is free, and we, and all are free; +The country owes its liberty to him! + +WALTER. +And I, too, mother, bore my part in it! +I must be named with him. My father's shaft +Ran my life close, but yet I never flinch'd. + +HEDWIG (_embracing him_). + +Yes, yes, thou art restored to me again! +Twice have I seen thee given to my sad eyes, +Twice suffered all a mother's pangs for thee! +But this is past--I have you both, boys, both! +And your dear father will be back today. + + [_A monk appears at the door_.] + +WILLIAM. + +See, mother, yonder stands a holy friar; +He comes for alms, no doubt. + +HEDWIG. + + Go lead him in, +That we may give him cheer, and make him feel +That he has come into the house of joy. + + [_Exit and returns immediately with a cup_.] + +WILLIAM (_to the monk_). + +Come in, good man. Mother will give you food! + +WALTER. + +Come in and rest, then go refresh'd away! + +MONK (_glancing round in terror, with unquiet looks_). + +Where am I? In what country? Tell me. + +WALTER. + + How! +Are you bewildered, that you know not where? +You are at Brglen, in the land of Uri, +Just at the entrance of the Shechenthal. + +MONK. (_to_ HEDWIG). + +Are you alone? Your husband, is he here? + +HEDWIG. + +I am expecting him. But what ails you, man? +There's something in your looks, that omens ill! +Whoe'er you be, you are in want--take that. + + [_Offers him the cup_.] + +MONK. + +Howe'er my sinking heart may yearn for food, +Nought will I taste till you have promised first-- + +HEDWIG. + +Touch not my garments, come not near me, monk! +You must stand farther back, if I'm to hear you. + +MONK. + +Oh, by this hearth's bright hospitable blaze, +By your dear children's heads, which I embrace-- + + [_Grasps the boys_.] + +HEDWIG. + +Stand back, I say! What is your purpose, man? +Back from my boys! You are no monk,--no, no, +Beneath the robe you wear peace should abide, +But peace abides not in such looks as yours. + +MONK. + +I am the wretchedest of living men. + +HEDWIG. + +The heart is never deaf to wretchedness; +But your look freezes up my inmost soul. + +WALTER (_springs up_). + +Mother, here's father! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, my God! + + [_Is about to follow, trembles and stops_.] + +WILLIAM (_running after his brother_). + +My father! + +WALTER (_without_). + +Here, here once more! + +WILLIAM (_without_). + + My father, my dear father! + +TELL (_without_). + +Yes, here once more! Where is your mother, boys? + + [_They enter_.] + +WALTER. + +There at the door she stands, and can no further, +She trembles so with terror and with joy. + +TELL. + +Oh Hedwidg, Hedwig, mother of my children! +God has been kind and helpful in our woes. +No tyrant's hand shall e'er divide us more. + +HEDWIG (_falling on his neck_). + +Oh, Tell, what anguish have I borne for thee! + + [_Monk becomes attentive_.] + +TELL. + +Forget it now, and live for joy alone! +I'm here again with you! This is my cot! +I stand again upon mine own hearth stone! + +WILLIAM. + +But, father, where's your cross-bow? Not with you? + +TELL. + +Thou shalt not ever see it more, my boy. +Within a holy shrine it has been placed, +And in the chase shall ne'er be used again. + +HEDWIG. + Oh, Tell! Tell! + + [_Steps back, dropping his hand_.] + +TELL. + What alarms thee, dearest wife? + +HEDWIG. How--how dost thou return to me? This hand-- +Dare I take hold of it? This hand--Oh God! + +TELL (_with firmness and animation_). + +Has shielded you and set my country free; +Freely I raise it in the face of Heaven. + + [MONK _gives a sudden start--he looks at him_.] + +Who is this friar here? + +HEDWIG. + + Ah, I forgot him; +Speak thou with him; I shudder at his presence. + +MONK (_stepping nearer_). + +Are you the Tell who slew the governor? + +TELL. + +Yes, I am he. I hide the fact from no man. + +MONK. + +And you are Tell! Ah! it is God's own hand, +That hath conducted me beneath your roof. + +TELL (_examining him closely_). + +You are no monk. Who are you? + +MONK. + + You have slain +The governor, who did you wrong. I, too, +Have slain a foe, who robb'd me of my rights. +He was no less your enemy than mine. +I've rid the land of him. + +TELL (_drawing back_). + + You are--oh, horror! +In--children, children--in, without a word, +Go, my dear wife! Go! Go! Unhappy man, +You should be-- + +HEDWIG. + + Heav'ns, who is it? + +TELL. + + Do not ask. +Away! away! the children must not hear it. +Out of the house--away! You must not rest +'Neath the same roof with this unhappy man! + +HEDWIG. + +Alas! What is it? Come. + + [_Exit with the children_.] + +TELL (_to the_ MONK). + + You are the Duke +Of Austria--I know it. You have slain +The Emperor, your uncle, and liege lord. + +JOHN. + +He robb'd me of my patrimony. + +TELL. + + How! +Slain him--your king, your uncle! And the earth +Still bears you! And the sun still shines on you! + +JOHN. + +Tell, hear me, ere you-- + +TELL. + + Reeking with the blood +Of him that was your Emperor, your kinsman, +Dare you set foot within my spotless house, +Dare to a honest man to show your face, +And claim the rites of hospitality? + +JOHN. + +I hoped to find compassion at your hands. +You took, like me, revenge upon your foe! + +TELL. + +Unhappy man! Dare you confound the crime +Of blood-imbued ambition with the act +Forced on a father in mere self-defence? +Have you to shield your children's darling heads, +To guard your fireside's sanctuary--ward off +The last, the direst doom from all you loved? +To Heaven I raise my unpolluted hands, +To curse your act and you! I have avenged +That holy nature which you have profaned. +I have no part with you. You murdered, I +Have shielded all that was most dear to me. + +JOHN. + +You cast me off to comfortless despair! + +TELL. + +I shrink with horror while I talk with you. +Hence, on the dread career you have begun, +Cease to pollute the home of innocence! + + [JOHN _turns to depart._] + +JOHN. + +I cannot and I will not live this life! + +TELL. + +And yet my soul bleeds for you. Gracious Heaven, +So young, of such a noble line, the grandson +Of Rudolph, once my lord and emperor, +An outcast--murderer--standing at my door, +The poor man's door--a suppliant, in despair! + + [_Covers his face_.] + +JOHN. + +If you have power to weep, oh let my fate +Move your compassion--it is horrible! +I am--say, rather was--a prince. I might +Have been most happy, had I only curb'd +The impatience of my passionate desires: +But envy gnaw'd my heart--I saw the youth +Of mine own cousin Leopold endow'd +With honor, and enrich'd with broad domains, +The while myself, of equal age with him, +In abject slavish nonage was kept back. + +TELL. + +Unhappy man, your uncle knew you well, +When from you land and subjects he withheld! +You, by your mad and desperate act have set +A fearful seal upon his wise resolve. +Where are the bloody partners of your crime? + +JOHN. + +Where'er the avenging furies may have borne them; +I have not seen them since the luckless deed. + +TELL. + +Know you the Empire's ban is out--that you +Are interdicted to your friends, and given +An outlaw'd victim to your enemies! + +JOHN. + +Therefore I shun all public thoroughfares, +And venture not to knock at any door-- +I turn my footsteps to the wilds, and through +The mountains roam, a terror to myself. +From mine own self I shrink with horror back, +If in a brook I see my ill-starr'd form. +If you have pity or a human heart-- + + [_Falls down before him_.] + +TELL. + +Stand up, stand up! I say. + +JOHN. + + Not till you give +Your hand in promise of assistance to me. + +TELL. + +Can I assist you? Can a sinful man? +Yet get ye up--how black soe'er your crime-- +You are a man. I, too, am one. From Tell +Shall no one part uncomforted. I will +Do all that lies within my power. + +DUKE JOHN (_springs up and grasps him ardently by the +hand_). + + Oh, Tell, +You save me from the terrors of despair. + +TELL. + +Let go my hand! You must away. You cannot +Remain here undiscover'd, and, discover'd, +You cannot count on succor. Which way, then, +Would you be going? Where do you hope to find +A place of rest? + +DUKE JOHN. + + Alas! I know not where. + +TELL. + +Hear, then, what Heaven unto my heart suggests. +You must to Italy--to Saint Peter's City-- +There cast yourself at the Pope's feet--confess +Your guilt to him, and ease your laden soul! + +JOHN. + +Will he not to the avengers yield me up? + +TELL. + +Whate'er he does, accept it as from God. + +JOHN. + +But how am I to reach that unknown land? +I have no knowledge of the way, and dare not +Attach myself to other travelers. + +TELL. + +I will describe the road, so mark me well! +You must ascend, keeping along the Reuss, +Which from the mountains dashes wildly down. + +DUKE JOHN (_in alarm_). + +What! See the Reuss? The witness of my deed! + +TELL. + +The road you take lies through the river's gorge, +And many a cross proclaims where travelers +Have been by avalanches done to death. + +JOHN. + +I have no fear for nature's terrors, so +I can appease the torments of my soul. + +TELL. + +At every cross, kneel down and expiate +Your crime with burning penitential tears-- +And if you 'scape the perils of the pass, +And are not whelm'd beneath the drifted snows, +That from the frozen peaks come sweeping down, +You'll reach the bridge that's drench'd with drizzling spray. +Then if it give not way beneath your guilt, +When you have left it safely in your rear, +Before you frowns the gloomy Gate of Rocks, +Where never sun did shine. Proceed through this, +And you will reach a bright and gladsome vale. +Yet must you hurry on with hasty steps, +You must not linger in the haunts of peace. + +JOHN. + +O Rudolph, Rudolph, royal grandsire! thus +Thy grandson first sets foot within thy realms! + +TELL. + +Ascending still, you gain the Gotthardt's heights, +Where are the tarns, the everlasting tarns, +That from the streams of Heaven itself are fed, +There to the German soil you bid farewell; +And thence, with swift descent, another stream +Leads you to Italy, your promised land. + +[_Ranz des Vaches sounded on Alp-horns is heard without_.] + +But I hear voices! Hence! + +HEDWIG (_hurrying in_). + + Where art thou, Tell? +My father comes, and in exulting bands +All the confederates approach. + +DUKE JOHN (_covering himself_). + + Woe's me! +I dare not tarry 'mong these happy men! + +TELL. + +Go, dearest wife, and give this man to eat. +Spare not your bounty; for his road is long, +And one where shelter will be hard to find. +Quick--they approach! + +HEDWIG. + + Who is he? + +TELL. + + Do not ask! +And when he quits you, turn your eyes away, +So that they do not see which way he goes. + + [DUKE JOHN _advances hastily toward_ TELL, _but he beckons +him aside and goes out. When both have left the stage, the +scene changes_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_The whole valley before_ TELL's _house, the heights which +inclose it occupied by peasants, grouped into tableaux. Some +are seen crossing a lofty bridge, which crosses the +Shechen_. WALTER FRST _with the two boys_, WERNER _and_ +STAUFFACHER, _come forward. Others throng after them. When_ +TELL _appears, all receive him with loud cheers._ + +ALL. + +Long live brave Tell, our shield, our Savior! + +[_While those in front are crowding round_ TELL, _and +embracing him_, RUDENZ _and_ BERTHA _appear. The former +salutes the peasantry, the latter embraces_ HEDWIG. _The +music front the mountains continues to play. When it has +stopped_, BERTHA _steps into the centre of the crowd_.] + +BERTHA. + +Peasants! Confederates! Into your league +Receive me, who was happily the first +That found deliverance in the land of freedom. +To your brave hands I now intrust my rights. +Will you protect me as your citizen? + +PEASANTS. + +Ay, that we will, with life and goods! + +BERTHA. 'Tis well! + +And now to him (_turning to_ RUDENZ) I frankly give my hand. +A free Swiss maiden to a free Swiss man! + +RUDENZ. + +And from this moment all my serfs are free! + + [_Music, and the curtain falls_.] + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 36: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and +G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 37: The German is, _Thalvogt_, Ruler of the Valley--the name +given figuratively to a dense gray mist which the south wind sweeps +into the valleys from the mountain tops. It is well known as the +precursor of stormy weather.] + +[Footnote 38: A steep rock, standing on the north of Rtli, and nearly +opposite to Brumen.] + +[Footnote 39: In German, _Wolfenschiessen_--a young man of noble +family, and a native of Unterwalden, who attached himself to the House +of Austria, and was appointed _Burvogt_, or Seneschal, of the Castle +of Rossberg. He was killed by Baumgarten in the manner, and for the +cause, mentioned in the text.] + +[Footnote 40: Literally, The _Fhn_ is loose! "When," says Mller, in +his History of Switzerland, "the wind called the Fhn is high, the +navigation of the lake becomes extremely dangerous. Such is its +vehemence that the laws of the country require that the fires shall be +extinguished in the houses while it lasts, and the night watches are +doubled. The inhabitants lay heavy stones upon the roofs of their +houses, to prevent their being blown away."] + +[Footnote 41: Brglen, the birthplace and residence of Tell. A chapel, +erected in 1522, remains on the spot formerly occupied by his house.] + +[Footnote 42: Berenger von Landenberg, a man of noble family in +Thurgau, and Governor of Unterwald, infamous for his cruelties to the +Swiss, and particularly to the venerable Henry of the Halden. He was +slain at the battle of Morgarten, in 1315.] + +[Footnote 43: A cell built in the 9th century, by Meinrad, Count of +Hohenzollern, the founder of the Convent of Einsiedeln, subsequently +alluded to in the text.] + +[Footnote 44: The League, or Bond, of the Three Cantons was of very +ancient origin. They met and renewed it from time to time, especially +when their liberties were threatened with danger. A remarkable +instance of this occurred in the end of the 13th century, when +Albert, of Austria, became Emperor, and when, possibly, for the first +time, the Bond was reduced to writing. As it is important to the +understanding of many passages of the play, a translation is subjoined +of the oldest known document relating to it. The original, which is in +Latin and German, is dated in August, 1291, and is under the seals of +the whole of the men of Schwytz, the commonalty of the vale of Uri and +the whole of the men of the upper and lower vales of Stanz. + +THE BOND. + +Be it known to every one, that the men of the Dale of Uri, the +Community of Schwytz, as also the men of the mountains of Unterwald, +in consideration of the evil times, have full confidently bound +themselves, and sworn to help each other with all their power and +might, property and people, against all who shall do violence to them, +or any of them. That is our Ancient Bond. + +Whoever hath a Seignior, let him obey according to the conditions of +his service. + +We are agreed to receive into these dales no Judge, who is not a +countryman and indweller, or who hath bought his place. + +Every controversy amongst the sworn confederates shall be determined +by some of the sagest of their number, and if any one shall challenge +their judgment, then shall he be constrained to obey it by the rest. + +Whoever intentionally or deceitfully kills another, shall be +executed, and whoever shelters him shall be banished. + +Whoever burns the property of another shall no longer be regarded as a +countryman, and whoever shelters him shall make good the damage done. + +Whoever injures another, or robs him, and hath property in our +country, shall make satisfaction out of the same. + +No one shall distrain a debtor without a judge, nor any one who is not +his debtor, or the surety for such debtor. + +Every one in these dales shall submit to the judge, or we, the sworn +confederates, all will take satisfaction for all the injury occasioned +by his contumacy. And if in any internal division the one party will +not accept justice, all the rest shall help the other party. These +decrees shall, God willing, endure eternally for our general +advantage.] + +[Footnote 45: The Austrian knights were in the habit of wearing a plum +of peacocks' feathers in their helmets. After the overthrow of the +Austrian dominion in Switzerland, it was made highly penal to wear the +peacock's feather at any public assembly there.] + +[Footnote 46: The bench reserved for the nobility.] + +[Footnote 47: The Landamman was an officer chosen by the Swiss +Gemeinde, or Diet, to preside over them. The Banneret was an officer +intrusted with the keeping of the State Banner and such others as were +taken in battle.] + +[Footnote 48: According to the custom by which, when the last male +descendent of a noble family died, his sword, helmet, and shield, were +buried with him.] + +[Footnote 49: This frequently occurred. But in the event of an +imperial city being mortgaged for the purpose of raising money, it +lost its freedom, and was considered as put out of the realm.] + +[Footnote 50: An allusion to the circumstance of the Imperial Crown +not being hereditary, but conferred by election on one of the Counts +of the Empire.] + +[Footnote 51: These are the cots, or shealings, erected by the +herdsmen for shelter while pasturing their herds on the mountains +during the summer. These are left deserted in winter, during which +period Melchthal's journey was taken.] + +[Footnote 52: It was the custom at the meetings of the Landes +Gemeinde, or Diet, to set swords upright in the ground as emblems of +authority.] + +[Footnote 53: The Heribann was a muster of warriors similar to the +_arrire ban_ of France.] + +[Footnote 54: A The Duke of Suabia, who +soon afterward assassinated his uncle for withholding his patrimony +from him.] + +[Footnote 55: A sort of national militia.] + +[Footnote 56: Rocks on shore of Lake Lucerne.] + +[Footnote 57: An allusion to the gallant self-devotion of Arnold +Struthan of Winkelried, at the battle of Sempach [9th July, 1386], who +broke the Austrian phalanx by rushing on their lances, grasping as +many of them as he could reach, and concentrating them upon his +breast. The confederates rushed forward through the gap thus opened by +the sacrifice of their comrade, broke and cut down their enemy's +ranks, and soon became the masters of the field. "Dear and faithful +confederates, I will open you a passage. Protect my wife and +children," were the words of Winkelried, as he rushed to death.] + +[Footnote 58: The URPHEDE was an oath of peculiar force. When a man, +who was at feud with another, invaded his lands and was worsted, he +often made terms with his enemy by swearing the _Urphede_, by which he +bound himself to depart, and never to return with a hostile +intention.] + + * * * * * + + + +THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS + + +A MASQUE + +Dedicated in all reverence to her Imperial Highness, the Crown +Princess of Weimar, MARIA PAULOWNA, Grand-Duchess of Russia, and +produced at the Court Theatre in Weimar, November 12, 1804. + +DRAMATIS PERSON. + + +A FATHER. +A MOTHER. +A YOUTH. +A MAIDEN. +CHORUS OF COUNTRY PEOPLE. +GENIUS. +THE SEVEN ARTS. + + +The scene is laid in a country place. In the centre of the stage, an +orange-tree, laden with fruit and bedecked with ribbons. The country +people are setting it firmly in the earth, while maidens and children, +on each side, hold it erect by means of garlands of flowers. + + + +THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS (1804) + +TRANSLATED BY A. I. DU P. COLEMAN, A.M. + +Professor of English Literature, College of the City of New York + + + THE FATHER + + Blossom, blossom, bountiful tree + With thy golden apples gay, + Which from lands so far away + We have brought for ours to see! + Fullest fruitage ever bearing, + May thy branches ne'er decay! + + ALL + + Blossom, blossom, bountiful tree, + Shooting upward strong and free! + + THE YOUTH + + With the fragrant bloom united, + Proudly hang the golden store! + May it stand by storms unblighted, + May it grow from more to more! + + ALL + + May it stand by storms unblighted, + May it grow from more to more! + + THE MOTHER + + Mother Earth, O hear my word! + Guard the tender nursling now. + Thou that lead'st the speckled herd, + God of the fields, to thee we bow! + + THE MAIDEN + + Gentle Dryads, guard its growing, + Guard it, guard it, Pan most high! + Mountain nymphs, your gifts bestowing, + Shield it when the storms are blowing-- + Bid their fury pass it by! + + ALL + + Gentle Dryads, guard its growing, + Guard it, guard it, Pan most high! + + THE YOUTH + + May kind skies smile down upon it, + Always clear and always blue! + Sun, send out thy softest radiance! + Feed it, Earth, with all thy dew! + + ALL + + Sun, send out thy softest radiance! + Feed it, Earth, with all thy dew! + + THE FATHER + + Joy, sweet joy, and life new-springing + May'st thou still to all be bringing-- + Joy it was that set thee here. + May thy gifts of nectar gather + Children's children, like their father, + And all bless thee for thy cheer! + + ALL + + Joy, sweet joy, and life new-springing + May'st thou still to all be bringing-- + Joy it was that set thee here! + + [_They dance in picturesque groups around the tree. The orchestral +music accompanies the dance, and gradually passes into a more elevated +style, as there appear in the background from above_ GENIUS _and the +Goddesses of the Seven Arts. The country people retire to the sides of +the stage_, GENIUS _comes down to the centre, with_ PAINTING, +SCULPTURE, _and_ ARCHITECTURE _on his right_, POETRY, DRAMA, MUSIC, +_and_ DANCING _on his left_.] + + [Illustration: THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS HERM. MISDICEMUS] + + THE ARTS + + We come from a far land-- + Still wandering, roaming + From people to people, + From ages to ages; + We are seeking a home that shall always endure-- + In peaceful possession + To find our expression, + In stillness creating, + No power abating-- + Yet we still seek in vain for a dwelling secure. + + THE YOUTH + + Who are these my eyes behold, + Like a troop of fairies nigh-- + Forms whose beauty ne'er was told! + Beats my heart, I know not why! + + GENIUS + + Where weapons are clashing + And trumpets are blown, + Where hearts are with hate and with madness o'erflowing, + Where mortals are wand'ring, their goal never knowing, + Thence turn we our footsteps, in haste to be gone. + + ARTS + + We hate the deceivers, + Despisers of heaven; + We seek among mortals + Who to virtue are given. + Where pure hearts have welcome + To give to a friend, + We will build habitations + To dwell without end. + + THE MAIDEN + + What is this strange feeling? + What can it betoken? + By some hidden power my nature is moved, + They call to my heart like the friends I have loved-- + Yet never before with these strangers I've spoken. + + THE COUNTRY PEOPLE + + What is this strange feeling? + What can it betoken? + + GENIUS + + Ah, but yonder see I mortals, + Come to revel with delight. + Look--with ribbons and with garlands + Richly is the tree bedight! + Surely joy their bosom fills-- + + [_To the country people_.] + + Tell me what it is you do. + + THE FATHER + + Shepherds are we of these hills, + And a feast we keep, 'tis true. + + GENIUS + + What the feast? I fain would hear! + + THE MOTHER + + In honor of our lady dear, + Great as good, and good as great, + Who, to bless our humble vale, + From her high imperial station + Has descended--her we hail! + + THE YOUTH + + For her charms our jubilation, + Kindness like the sun's warm rays! + + GENIUS + + Wherefore do you plant a tree? + + THE YOUTH + + Ah, it comes of foreign race, + And its heart toward home is yearning; + That is why we fear its turning + From its new abiding-place. + + GENIUS + + That is why you plant it deep, + With the soil its roots encase, + That its blessings you may keep + In its new abiding-place? + + THE MAIDEN + + To her native land that bind her + Many, many are the ties-- + All that she has left behind her + In her childhood's paradise: + All her mother's fond embraces, + And the love of noble brothers, + And her sisters' tender bosoms. + Can we then in equal measures, + Can the world, supply a price + For such pleasures, + For such treasures? + + GENIUS + + Love can reach to any distance, + Is not bound by far or near. + As the fire is undiminished + When another flame is kindled + With its heat, to glow more clear, + So that has no tie to bind her, + Which of old she held most dear: + Though she has left love behind her, + She will find love dwelling here. + + THE MOTHER + + She has come from halls of state, + Rich with gold and crystal sheen; + Can our hills please one so great, + Where for gold we boast but sunshine, + And our wealth is meadows green? + + GENIUS + + In a heart of princely kind + Much is hidden from your sense. + Know, then, that a noble mind + Puts the greatness into living, + Never needs to draw it thence. + + THE YOUTH + + Oh, lovely strangers, teach us to retain her! + Oh, teach us to find favor in her sight! + We long with perfumed garlands to enchain her + Within our homeland, never to take flight. + + GENIUS + + A noble heart soon finds itself at home-- + Creates, in stillness working, its own world: + And as the tree takes hold upon the earth + With eager grasping roots, and soon is fast, + So will a great and doubly royal nature + By its own noble deeds take hold on life. + Love's tender ties soon knit themselves anew-- + For where is happiness, there too is home! + + ALL THE COUNTRY PEOPLE + + Oh, handsome stranger, say how we may chain her, + The fairest, in our quiet vale retain her! + + GENIUS + + Courage! The help you seek is nigh at hand. + All is not strange to her in this new land. + Me she will know, and my attendant train, + When we have made our names and office plain. + +[GENIUS _comes forward. The Seven Arts follow him and form a +semi-circle about him. As they do so, they display their attributes, +which until this moment have been concealed beneath their robes_.] + + GENIUS (_addressing the Crown Princess_) + + Lo, I am Genius--beauty's lord alone-- + And these that follow me the sister Arts. + 'Tis we that deck the altar and the throne; + We crown the work that springs from human hearts. + Long have we dealt with thine imperial line; + And she, the noble dame that gave thee birth, + With spotless hand a dedicated shrine + Still keeps for us, a sacred spot of earth. + We follow thee obedient to her sending; + For happiness through us finds perfect ending. + +ARCHITECTURE (_a mural crown on her head, a golden ship in her right +hand_) + + By Neva's flood thou saw'st me sit at home: + Thy great forefather called me to his side-- + And there I built for him a second Rome; + Through me it grew to be an empire's pride. + A paradise of stately pleasure-grounds + Arose beneath the magic of my wand; + And now the busy hum of life resounds + Where once a desert stretched on every hand. + The thunder of the cannon of thy fleet + Alarms the hoary Neptune in his ancient seat. + + SCULPTURE (_a small image of victory in her hand_) + + Me too hast thou beheld with wondering eyes, + That did the old Olympian world restore. + Upon a cliff that age and storm defies + Its mighty image stands for evermore. + + (_Shows the Victory_) + + Lo, Victory's image, by my fingers shaped! + Thy lordly brother grasps it in his hand: + And round her form his conquering banners draped, + See Alexander bear her through the land! + I strive, but end with lifeless imitation-- + He builds of savage hordes a mighty nation. + + PAINTING + + And me, most noble, thou wilt know again-- + The fond creator of depicted form; + Know very life in all its colors plain + Upon my canvas glowing fresh and warm. + Yea, through the eyes I can deceive the heart, + My skill can cheat the senses without wronging + And still the beating of the lover's heart-- + Present the very face for which he's longing: + Wide as the poles asunder though they go, + They are not quite alone, my help who know. + + POETRY + + Through farthest space I fly on soaring pinion; + I know no limits; naught disputes my rule + Or bids me stay. I hold supreme dominion + O'er realms of thought--the Word my winged tool. + All things that move in heaven above, on earth, + Are to my penetrating eyes displayed-- + Though in the secret depths they have their birth. + No bar across the poet's path is laid. + But I have found, in all my age-long quest, + Naught fairer than a pure soul in a lovely breast. + + MUSIC (_with the lyre_) + + The might of tones that tremble on the strings, + Thou know'st it well--for thou canst wield it too. + What fills the quivering heart when music sings + Can find in me alone its utterance true. + A sweet enchantment plays on every sense + When my harmonious flood has reached its height-- + Until the enraptured soul would fain go hence + And from the lips, soft sighing, take its flight. + Where I set up my ladder, built of sound, + A way to scale the dizziest heights is found. + + DANCING (_with the cymbals_) + + In solemn stillness brooding, the Divine + Is by a silent soul perceived at rest: + Yet life and youth for gladsome motion pine-- + They must expression find, must thus be blest. + Led by soft beauty's chain, they follow me + To lose themselves within the sinuous maze. + On Zephyr's wings I raise the body free; + In dancing steps I teach symmetric grace. + Grace is the gift I bear within my hand; + All things that move I lead with magic wand. + + DRAMA (_with the double mask_) + + The mask of Janus have I in my keeping-- + On one side sorrow, on the other joy; + For man must alternate 'twixt bliss and weeping, + And with the dark is mixed a light alloy. + In all its deeps profound, its dizzy heights, + Life's tale before thine eyes I can unroll, + And make thee turn, richer for these great sights, + Into the peaceful silence of thy soul. + Who the whole world in one wide view surveys, + In his own heart no civil strife dismays. + + GENIUS + + And all of us who here appear before you, + Majestic sisterhood of noble arts, + For leave to serve you, Princess, would implore you: + Do but command, and we will play our parts. + As Theban walls obeyed the lyre's sweet sounding, + So here the senseless stone shall live at thine-- + A world of beauty rise, thine eyes astounding. + + ARCHITECTURE + + Tall columns stand in well-proportioned line. + + SCULPTURE + + The marble shape beneath the mallet's blow. + + PAINTING + + Fresh life upon the painted canvas show. + + MUSIC + + For thee the stream of harmonies shall spring. + + DANCING + + Light dances follow close the vibrant string. + DRAMA + + The whole world'll pass 'fore thee on the stage. + + POETRY + + And fancy with her magic equipage + Shall bear thee, ravished, to the fields on high. + + PAINTING + + And as the magic rainbow in the sky + Conjures its colors from the gorgeous sun, + So will we, each for all, and all as one, + With mystic sevenfold wealth of pageantry, + Weave for thee, Lady, life's great tapestry. + + ALL THE ARTS (_embracing one another_) + + For strength must wed with strength, and so impart + Beauty to life and life to forms of art. + + * * * * * + + + + +HISTORY AND LITERATURE + +THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR--THE LAST CAMPAIGNS OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS +(1792)[59] + +TRANSLATED BY THE REV. A. J. W. MORRISON, M.A. + + +The glorious battle of Leipzig effected a great change in the conduct +of Gustavus Adolphus, as well as in the opinion which both friends and +foes entertained of him. Successfully had he confronted the greatest +general of the age, and had matched the strength of his tactics and +the courage of his Swedes against the elite of the imperial army, the +most experienced troops in Europe. From this moment he felt a firm +confidence in his own powers--self-confidence has always been the +parent of great actions. In all his subsequent operations more +boldness and decision are observable; greater determination, even +amidst the most unfavorable circumstances, a more lofty tone toward +his adversaries, a more dignified bearing toward his allies, and even +in his clemency, something of the forbearance of a conqueror. His +natural courage was further heightened by the pious ardor of his +imagination. He saw in his own cause that of heaven, and in the defeat +of Tilly beheld the decisive interference of Providence against his +enemies, and in himself the instrument of divine vengeance. Leaving +his crown and his country far behind, he advanced on the wings of +victory into the heart of Germany, which for centuries had seen no +foreign conqueror within its bosom. The warlike spirit of its +inhabitants, the vigilance of its numerous princes, the artful +confederation of its states, the number of its strong castles, its +many and broad rivers, had long restrained the ambition of its +neighbors; and frequently as its extensive frontier had been attacked, +its interior had been free from hostile invasion. The Empire had +hitherto enjoyed the equivocal privilege of being its own enemy, +though invincible from without. Even now, it was merely the disunion +of its members, and the intolerance of religious zeal, that paved the +way for the Swedish invader. The bond of union between the states, +which alone had rendered the Empire invincible, was now dissolved; and +Gustavus derived from Germany itself the power by which he subdued +it. With as much courage as prudence, he availed himself of all that +the favorable moment afforded; and equally at home in the cabinet and +the field, he tore asunder the web of the artful policy, with as much +ease, as he shattered walls with the thunder of his cannon. +Uninterruptedly he pursued his conquests from one end of Germany to +the other, without breaking the line of posts which commanded a secure +retreat at any moment; and whether on the banks of the Rhine, or at +the mouth of the Lech, alike maintaining his communication with his +hereditary dominions. + +[Illustration: GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS] + +The consternation of the Emperor and the League at Tilly's defeat at +Leipzig, was scarcely greater than the surprise and embarrassment of +the allies of the King of Sweden at his unexpected success. It was +beyond both their expectations and their wishes. Annihilated in a +moment was that formidable army which, while it checked his progress +and set bounds to his ambition, rendered him in some measure dependent +on themselves. He now stood in the heart of Germany, alone, without a +rival or without an adversary who was a match for him. Nothing could +stop his progress, or check his pretensions, if the intoxication of +success should tempt him to abuse his victory. If formerly they had +dreaded the Emperor's irresistible power, there was no less cause now +to fear everything for the Empire from the violence of a foreign +conqueror, and for the Catholic Church from the religious zeal of a +Protestant king. The distrust and jealousy of some of the combined +powers, which a stronger fear of the Emperor had for a time repressed, +now revived; and scarcely had Gustavus Adolphus merited, by his +courage and success, their confidence, when they began covertly to +circumvent all his plans. Through a continual struggle with the arts +of enemies, and the distrust of his own allies, must his victories +henceforth be won; yet resolution, penetration, and prudence made +their way through all impediments. But while his success excited the +jealousy of his more powerful allies, France and Saxony, it gave +courage to the weaker, and emboldened them openly to declare their +sentiments and join his party. Those who could neither vie with +Gustavus Adolphus in importance, nor suffer from his ambition, +expected the more from the magnanimity of their powerful ally, who +enriched them with the spoils of their enemies and protected them +against the oppression of their stronger neighbors. His strength +covered their weakness, and, inconsiderable in themselves, they +acquired weight and influence from their union with the Swedish hero. +This was the case with most of the free cities, and particularly with +the weaker Protestant states. It was these that introduced the king +into the heart of Germany; these covered his rear, supplied his troops +with necessaries, received them into their fortresses, while they +exposed their own lives in his battles. His prudent regard to their +national pride, his popular deportment, some brilliant acts of +justice, and his respect for the laws, were so many ties by which he +bound the German Protestants to his cause; while the crying atrocities +of the Imperialists, the Spaniards, and the troops of Lorraine, +powerfully contributed to set his own conduct and that of his army in +a favorable light. + +If Gustavus Adolphus owed his success chiefly to his own genius, at +the same time, it must be owned, he was greatly favored by fortune and +by circumstances. Two great advantages gave him a decided superiority +over the enemy. While he removed the scene of war into the lands of +the League, drew their youth as recruits, enriched himself with booty, +and used the revenues of their fugitive princes as his own, he at once +took from the enemy the means of effectual resistance and maintained +an expensive war with little cost to himself. And, moreover, while his +opponents, the princes of the League, divided among themselves, and +governed by different and often conflicting interests, acted without +unanimity, and therefore without energy; while their generals were +deficient in authority, their troops in obedience, the operations of +their scattered armies without concert; while the general was +separated from the lawgiver and the statesman--these several functions +were united in Gustavus Adolphus, the only source from which authority +flowed, the sole object to which the eye of the warrior turned, the +soul of his party, the inventor as well as the executor of his plans. +In him, therefore, the Protestants had a centre of unity and harmony, +which was altogether wanting to their opponents. No wonder, then, if +favored by such advantages, at the head of such an army, with such a +genius to direct it, and guided by such political prudence, Gustavus +Adolphus was irresistible. + +With the sword in one hand and mercy in the other, he traversed +Germany as a conqueror, a lawgiver, and a judge, in as short a time +almost as the tourist of pleasure. The keys of towns and fortresses +were delivered to him, as if to the native sovereign. No fortress was +inaccessible; no river checked his victorious career. He conquered by +the very terror of his name. The Swedish standards were planted along +the whole stream of the Main: the Lower Palatinate was free, the +troops of Spain and Lorraine had fled across the Rhine and the +Moselle. The Swedes and Hessians poured like a torrent into the +territories of Mentz, of Wrtzburg, and Bamberg, and three fugitive +bishops, at a distance from their sees, suffered dearly for their +unfortunate attachment to the Emperor. It was now the turn for +Maximilian, the leader of the League, to feel in his own dominions the +miseries he had inflicted upon others. Neither the terrible fate of +his allies, nor the peaceful overtures of Gustavus, who, in the midst +of conquest, ever held out the hand of friendship, could conquer the +obstinacy of this prince. The torrent of war now poured into Bavaria. +Like the banks of the Rhine, those of the Lecke and the Donau were +crowded with Swedish troops. Creeping into his fortresses, the +defeated Elector abandoned to the ravages of the foe his dominions, +hitherto unscathed by war, and on which the bigoted violence of the +Bavarians seemed to invite retaliation. Munich itself opened its gates +to the invincible monarch, and the fugitive Palatine, Frederick V., in +the forsaken residence of his rival, consoled himself for a time for +the loss of his dominions. + +While Gustavus Adolphus was extending his conquests in the south, his +generals and allies were gaining similar triumphs in the other +provinces. Lower Saxony shook off the yoke of Austria, the enemy +abandoned Mecklenburg, and the imperial garrisons retired from the +banks of the Weser and the Elbe. In Westphalia and the Upper Rhine, +William, Landgrave of Hesse, rendered himself formidable; the Duke of +Weimar in Thuringia, and the French in the Electorate of Treves; while +to the eastward the whole kingdom of Bohemia was conquered by the +Saxons. The Turks were preparing to attack Hungary, and in the heart +of Austria a dangerous insurrection was threatened. In vain did the +Emperor look around to the courts of Europe for support; in vain did +he summon the Spaniards to his assistance, for the bravery of the +Flemings afforded them ample employment beyond the Rhine; in vain did +he call upon the Roman court and the whole church to come to his +rescue. The offended Pope sported, in pompous processions and idle +anathemas, with the embarrassments of Ferdinand, and instead of the +desired subsidy he was shown the devastation of Mantua. + +On all sides of his extensive monarchy hostile arms surrounded him. +With the states of the League, now overrun by the enemy, those +ramparts were thrown down, behind which Austria had so long defended +herself, and the embers of war were now smoldering upon her unguarded +frontiers tiers. His most zealous allies were disarmed; Maximilian of +Bavaria, his firmest support, was scarce able to defend himself. His +armies, weakened by desertion and repeated defeat, and dispirited by +continued misfortunes had unlearnt, under beaten generals, that +warlike impetuosity which, as it is the consequence, so it is the +guarantee of success. The danger was extreme, and extraordinary means +alone could raise the imperial power from the degradation into which +it was fallen. + +The most urgent want was that of a general; and the only one from whom +he could hope for the revival of his former splendor had been removed +from his command by an envious cabal. So low had the Emperor now +fallen that he was forced to make the most humiliating proposals to +his injured subject and servant, and meanly to press upon the +imperious Duke of Friedland the acceptance of the powers which no less +meanly had been taken from him. A new spirit began from this moment to +animate the expiring body of Austria; and a sudden change in the +aspect of affairs bespoke the firm hand which guided them. To the +absolute King of Sweden, a general equally absolute was now opposed; +and one victorious hero was confronted with another. Both armies were +again to engage in the doubtful struggle; and the prize of victory, +already almost secured in the hands of Gustavus Adolphus, was to be +the object of another and a severer trial. The storm of war gathered +around Nuremberg; before its walls the hostile armies encamped, gazing +on each other with dread and respect, longing for, and yet shrinking +from, the moment that was to close them together in the shock of +battle. The eyes of Europe turned to the scene in curiosity and alarm, +while Nuremberg, in dismay, expected soon to lend its name to a more +decisive battle than that of Leipzig. Suddenly the clouds broke, and +the storm rolled away from Franconia, to burst upon the plains of +Saxony. Near Ltzen fell the thunder that had menaced Nuremberg; the +victory, half lost, was purchased by the death of the king. Fortune, +which had never forsaken him in his lifetime, favored the King of +Sweden even in his death, with the rare privilege of falling in the +fulness of his glory and an untarnished fame. By a timely death, his +protecting genius rescued him from the inevitable fate of man--that of +forgetting moderation in the intoxication of success, and justice in +the plenitude of power. It may be doubted whether, had he lived +longer, he would still have deserved the tears which Germany shed over +his grave, or maintained his title to the admiration with which +posterity regards him as the first and only _just_ conqueror that the +world has produced. The untimely fall of their great leader seemed to +threaten the ruin of his party; but to the Power which rules the +world, no loss of a single man is irreparable. As the helm of war +dropped from the hand of the falling hero, it was seized by two great +statesmen, Oxenstiern and Richelieu. Destiny still pursued its +relentless course, and for full sixteen years longer the flames of war +blazed over the ashes of the long-forgotten king and soldier. + +I may now be permitted to take a cursory retrospect of Gustavus +Adolphus in his victorious career; glance at the scene in which he +alone was the great actor; and then, when Austria becomes reduced to +extremity by the successes of the Swedes, and by a series of disasters +is driven to the most humiliating and desperate expedients, to return +to the history of the Emperor. + +As soon as the plan of operations had been concerted at Halle, between +the King of Sweden and the Elector of Saxony; as soon as the alliance +had been concluded with the neighboring princes of Weimar and Anhalt, +and preparations made for the recovery of the bishopric of Magdeburg, +the king began his march into the empire. He had here no despicable +foe to contend with. Within the empire, the Emperor was still +powerful; throughout Franconia, Swabia, and the Palatinate, imperial +garrisons were posted, with whom the possession of every place of +importance must be disputed sword in hand. On the Rhine he was opposed +by the Spaniards, who had overrun the territory of the banished +Elector Palatine, seized all its strong places, and would everywhere +dispute with him the passage over the river. In his rear was Tilly, +who was fast recruiting his force, and would soon be joined by the +auxiliaries from Lorraine. Every Papist presented an inveterate foe, +while his connection with France did not leave him at liberty to act +with freedom against the Roman Catholics. Gustavus had foreseen all +these obstacles, and at the same time the means by which they were to +be overcome. The strength of the Imperialists was broken and divided +among different garrisons, while he would bring against them one by +one his whole united force. If he was to be opposed by the fanaticism +of the Roman Catholics, and the awe in which the lesser states +regarded the Emperor's power, he might depend on the active support of +the Protestants, and their hatred to Austrian oppression. The ravages +of the Imperialists and Spanish troops also powerfully aided him in +these quarters where the ill-treated husbandman and citizen alike +sighed for a deliverer, and where the mere change of yoke seemed to +promise a relief. Emissaries were dispatched to gain over to the +Swedish side the principal free cities, particularly Nuremberg and +Frankfort. The first that lay in the king's march, and which he could +not leave unoccupied in his rear, was Erfurt. Here the Protestant +party among the citizens opened to him, without a blow, the gates of +the town and the citadel. From the inhabitants of this, as of every +important place which afterward submitted, he exacted an oath of +allegiance, while he secured its possession by a sufficient garrison. +To his ally, Duke William of Weimar, he intrusted the command of an +army to be raised in Thuringia. He also left his queen in Erfurt, and +promised to increase its privileges. The Swedish army now crossed the +Thuringian forest in two columns, by Gotha and Arnstadt, and having +delivered, in its march, the county of Henneberg from the +Imperialists, formed a junction on the third day near Koenigshofen, on +the frontiers of Franconia. + +Francis, Bishop of Wrtzburg, the bitter enemy of the Protestants, and +the most zealous member of the League, was the first to feel the +indignation of Gustavus Adolphus. A few threats gained for the Swedes +possession of his fortress of Koenigshofen, and with it the key of +the whole province. At the news of this rapid conquest, dismay seized +all the Roman Catholic towns of the circle. The Bishops of Wrtzburg +and Bamberg trembled in their castles; they already saw their sees +tottering, their churches profaned, and their religion degraded. The +malice of his enemies had circulated the most frightful +representations of the persecuting spirit and the mode of warfare +pursued by the Swedish king and his soldiers, which neither the +repeated assurances of the king, nor the most splendid examples of +humanity and toleration, ever entirely effaced. Many feared to suffer +at the hands of another what in similar circumstances they were +conscious of inflicting themselves. Many of the richest Roman +Catholics hastened to secure by flight their property, their religion, +and their persons, from the sanguinary fanaticism of the Swedes. The +bishop himself set the example. In the midst of the alarm, which his +bigoted zeal had caused, he abandoned his dominions, and fled to +Paris, to excite, if possible, the French ministry against the common +enemy of religion. + +The further progress of Gustavus Adolphus in the ecclesiastical +territories agreed with this brilliant commencement. Schweinfurt, and +soon afterward Wrtzburg, abandoned by their Imperial garrisons, +surrendered; but Marienberg he was obliged to carry by storm. In this +place, which was believed to be impregnable, the enemy had collected a +large store of provisions and ammunition, all of which fell into the +hands of the Swedes. The king found a valuable prize in the library of +the Jesuits, which he sent to Upsal, while his soldiers found a still +more agreeable one in the prelate's well-filled cellars; his treasures +the bishop had in good time removed. The whole bishopric followed the +example of the capital, and submitted to the Swedes. The king +compelled all the bishop's subjects to swear allegiance to himself; +and, in the absence of the lawful sovereign, appointed a regency, +one-half of whose members were Protestants. In every Roman Catholic +town which Gustavus took, he opened the churches to the Protestant +people, but without retaliating on the Papists the cruelties which +they had practised on the former. On such only as sword in hand +refused to submit, were the fearful rights of war enforced; and for +the occasional acts of violence committed by a few of the more lawless +soldiers, in the blind rage of the first attack, their humane leader +is not justly responsible. Those who were peaceably disposed, or +defenceless, were treated with mildness. It was a sacred principle of +Gustavus to spare the blood of his enemies, as well as that of his own +troops. + +On the first news of the Swedish irruption, the Bishop of Wrtzburg, +without regarding the treaty which he had entered into with the King +of Sweden, had earnestly pressed the general of the League to hasten +to the assistance of the bishopric. That defeated commander had, in +the meantime, collected on the Weser the shattered remnant of his +army, reinforced himself from the garrisons of Lower Saxony, and +effected a junction in Hesse with Altringer and Fugger, who commanded +under him. Again at the head of a considerable force, Tilly burned +with impatience to wipe out the stain of his first defeat by a +splendid victory. From his camp at Fulda, whither he had marched with +his army, he earnestly requested permission from the Duke of Bavaria +to give battle to Gustavus Adolphus. But, in the event of Tilly's +defeat, the League had no second army to fall back upon, and +Maximilian was too cautious to risk again the fate of his party on a +single battle. With tears in his eyes, Tilly read the commands of his +superior, which compelled him to inactivity. Thus his march to +Franconia was delayed, and Gustavus Adolphus gained time to overrun +the whole bishopric. It was in vain that Tilly, reinforced at +Aschaffenburg by a body of 12,000 men from Lorraine, marched with an +overwhelming force to the relief of Wrtzburg. The town and citadel +were already in the hands of the Swedes, and Maximilian of Bavaria was +generally blamed (and not without cause, perhaps) for having, by his +scruples, occasioned the loss of the bishopric. Commanded to avoid a +battle, Tilly contented himself with checking the farther advance of +the enemy; but he could save only a few of the towns from the +impetuosity of the Swedes. Baffled in an attempt to reinforce the weak +garrison of Hanau, which it was highly important to the Swedes to +gain, he crossed the Main, near Seligenstadt, and took the direction +of the Bergstrasse, to protect the Palatinate from the conqueror. + +Tilly, however, was not the sole enemy whom Gustavus Adolphus met in +Franconia and drove before him. Charles, Duke of Lorraine, celebrated +in the annals of the time for his unsteadiness of character, his vain +projects, and his misfortunes, ventured to raise a weak arm against +the Swedish hero, in the hope of obtaining from the Emperor the +electoral dignity. Deaf to the suggestions of a rational policy, he +listened only to the dictates of heated ambition; by supporting the +Emperor he exasperated France, his formidable neighbor; and in the +pursuit of a visionary phantom in another country, left undefended his +own dominions, which were instantly overrun by a French army. Austria +willingly conceded to him, as well as to the other princes of the +League, the honor of being ruined in her cause. Intoxicated with vain +hopes, this prince collected a force of 17,000 men, which he proposed +to lead in person against the Swedes. If these troops were deficient +in discipline and courage, they were at least attractive by the +splendor of their accoutrements; and however sparing they were of +their prowess against the foe, they were liberal enough with it +against the defenceless citizens and peasantry whom they were summoned +to defend. Against the bravery and the formidable discipline of the +Swedes this splendidly attired army, however, made no long stand. On +the first advance of the Swedish cavalry a panic seized them, and they +were driven without difficulty from their cantonments in Wrtzburg; +the defeat of a few regiments occasioned a general rout, and the +scattered remnant sought a covert from the Swedish valor in the towns +beyond the Rhine. Loaded with shame and ridicule, the duke hurried +home by Strasburg, too fortunate in escaping, by a submissive written +apology, the indignation of his conqueror, who had first beaten him +out of the field and then called upon him to account for his +hostilities. It is related upon this occasion that, in a village on +the Rhine a peasant struck the horse of the duke as he rode past, +exclaiming, "Haste, Sir, you must go quicker to escape the great King +of Sweden!" + +The example of his neighbors' misfortunes had taught the Bishop of +Bamberg prudence. To avert the plundering of his territories, he made +offers of peace, though these were intended only to delay the king's +course till the arrival of assistance. Gustavus Adolphus, too +honorable himself to suspect dishonesty in another, readily accepted +the bishop's proposals and named the conditions on which he was +willing to save his territories from hostile treatment. He was the +more inclined to peace, as he had no time to lose in the conquest of +Bamberg, and his other designs called him to the Rhine. The rapidity +with which he followed up these plans cost him the loss of those +pecuniary supplies which, by a longer residence in Franconia, he might +easily have extorted from the weak and terrified bishop. This artful +prelate broke off the negotiation the instant the storm of war passed +away from his own territories. No sooner had Gustavus marched onward +than he threw himself under the protection of Tilly, and received the +troops of the Emperor into the very towns and fortresses which shortly +before he had shown himself ready to open to the Swedes. By this +stratagem, however, he delayed only for a brief interval the ruin of +his bishopric. A Swedish general who had been left in Franconia, +undertook to punish the perfidy of the bishop; and the ecclesiastical +territory became the seat of war, and was ravaged alike by friends and +foes. + +The formidable presence of the Imperialists had hitherto been a check +upon the Franconian States; but their retreat, and the humane conduct +of the Swedish king, emboldened the nobility and other inhabitants of +this circle to declare in his favor. Nuremberg joyfully committed +itself to his protection; and the Franconian nobles were won to his +cause by flattering proclamations, in which he condescended to +apologize for his hostile appearance in their dominions. The fertility +of Franconia, and the rigorous honesty of the Swedish soldiers in +their dealings with the inhabitants, brought abundance to the camp of +the king. The high esteem which the nobility of the circle felt for +Gustavus, the respect and admiration with which they regarded his +brilliant exploits, the promises of rich booty which the service of +this monarch held out, greatly facilitated the recruiting of his +troops; a step which was made necessary by detaching so many garrisons +from the main body. At the sound of his drums, recruits flocked to his +standard from all quarters. + +The king had scarcely spent more time in conquering Franconia than he +would have required to cross it. He now left behind him Gustavus Horn, +one of his best generals, with a force of 8,000 men, to complete and +retain his conquest. He himself with his main army, reinforced by the +late recruits, hastened toward the Rhine in order to secure this +frontier of the empire from the Spaniards, to disarm the +ecclesiastical electors, and to obtain from their fertile territories +new resources for the prosecution of the war. Following the course of +the Main, he subjected, in the course of his march, Seligenstadt, +Aschaffenburg, Steinheim, the whole territory on both sides of the +river. The imperial garrisons seldom awaited his approach, and never +attempted resistance. In the meanwhile one of his colonels had been +fortunate enough to take by surprise the town and citadel of Hanau, +for whose preservation Tilly had shown such anxiety. Eager to be free +of the oppressive burden of the Imperialists, the Count of Hanau +gladly placed himself under the milder yoke of the King of Sweden. +Gustavus Adolphus now turned his whole attention to Frankfort, for it +was his constant maxim to cover his rear by the friendship and +possession of the more important towns. Frankfort was among the free +cities which, even from Saxony, he had endeavored to prepare for his +reception; and he now called upon it, by a summons from Offenbach, to +allow him free passage and to admit a Swedish garrison. Willingly +would this city have dispensed with the necessity of choosing between +the King of Sweden and the Emperor; for, whatever party they might +embrace, the inhabitants had a like reason to fear for their +privileges and trade. The Emperor's vengeance would certainly fall +heavily upon them, if they were in a hurry to submit to the King of +Sweden, and afterward he should prove unable to protect his adherents +in Germany. But still more ruinous for them would be the displeasure +of an irresistible conqueror, who, with a formidable army, was already +before their gates, and who might punish their opposition by the ruin +of their commerce and prosperity. In vain did their deputies plead the +danger which menaced their fairs, their privileges, perhaps their +constitution itself, if, by espousing the party of the Swedes, they +were to incur the Emperor's displeasure. Gustavus Adolphus expressed +to them his astonishment that, when the liberties of Germany and the +Protestant religion were at stake, the citizens of Frankfort should +talk of their annual fairs, and postpone for temporal interests the +great cause of their country and their conscience. He had, he +continued, in a menacing tone, found the keys of every town and +fortress, from the Isle of Rugen to the Main, and knew also where to +find a key to Frankfort; the safety of Germany, and the freedom of the +Protestant Church, were, he assured them, the sole objects of his +invasion; conscious of the justice of his cause, he was determined not +to allow any obstacle to impede his progress. "The inhabitants of +Frankfort, he was well aware, wished to stretch out only a finger to +him, but he must have the whole hand in order to have something to +grasp." At the head of the army, he closely followed the deputies as +they carried back his answer, and in order of battle awaited, near +Saxenhausen, the decision of the council. + +If Frankfort hesitated to submit to the Swedes, it was solely from +fear of the Emperor; their own inclinations did not allow them a +moment to doubt between the oppressor of Germany and its protector. +The menacing preparations amidst which Gustavus Adolphus now compelled +them to decide, would lessen the guilt of their revolt in the eyes of +the Emperor, and by an appearance of compulsion justify the step which +they willingly took. The gates were therefore opened to the King of +Sweden, who marched his army through this imperial town in magnificent +procession and in admirable order. A garrison of 600 men was left in +Saxenhausen; while the king himself advanced the same evening, with +the rest of his army, against the town of Hchst in Mentz, which +surrendered to him before night. + +While Gustavus was thus extending his conquests along the Main, +fortune crowned also the efforts of his generals and allies in the +north of Germany. Rostock, Wismar, and Doemitz, the only strong places +in the Duchy of Mecklenburg which still sighed under the yoke of the +Imperialists, were recovered by their legitimate sovereign, the Duke +John Albert, under the Swedish general, Achatius Tott. In vain did the +imperial general, Wolf Count von Mansfeld, endeavor to recover from +the Swedes the territories of Halberstadt, of which they had taken +possession immediately upon the victory of Leipzic; he was even +compelled to leave Magdeburg itself in their hands. The Swedish +general, Banner, who with 8,000 men remained upon the Elbe, closely +blockaded that city, and had defeated several imperial regiments which +had been sent to its relief. Count Mansfeld defended it in person with +great resolution; but his garrison being too weak to oppose for any +length of time the numerous force of the besiegers, he was already +about to surrender on conditions, when Pappenheim advanced to his +assistance, and gave employment elsewhere to the Swedish arms. +Magdeburg, however, or rather the wretched huts that peeped out +miserably from among the ruins of that once great town, was afterward +voluntarily abandoned by the Imperialists and immediately taken +possession of by the Swedes. + +Even Lower Saxony, encouraged by the progress of the king, ventured to +raise its head from the disasters of the unfortunate Danish war. They +held a congress at Hamburg, and resolved upon raising three regiments, +which they hoped would be sufficient to free them from the oppressive +garrisons of the Imperialists. The Bishop of Bremen, a relation of +Gustavus Adolphus, was not content even with this; but assembled +troops of his own, and terrified the unfortunate monks and priests of +the neighborhood, but was quickly compelled by the imperial general, +Count Gronsfeld, to lay down his arms. Even George, Duke of Lneburg, +formerly a colonel in the Emperor's service, embraced the party of +Gustavus, for whom he raised several regiments, and by occupying the +attention of the Imperialists in Lower Saxony, materially assisted +him. + +But more important service was rendered to the king by the Landgrave +William of Hesse Cassel, whose victorious arms struck with terror the +greater part of Westphalia and Lower Saxony, the bishopric of Fulda, +and even the Electorate of Cologne. It has been already stated that +immediately after the conclusion of the alliance between the Landgrave +and Gustavus Adolphus at Werben, two imperial generals, Fugger and +Altringer, were ordered by Tilly to march into Hesse, to punish the +Landgrave for his revolt from the Emperor. But this prince had as +firmly withstood the arms of his enemies, as his subjects had the +proclamations of Tilly inciting them to rebellion, and the battle of +Leipzic presently relieved him of their presence. He availed himself +of their absence with courage and resolution; in a short time, Vach, +Minden and Hoexter surrendered to him, while his rapid advance +alarmed the bishoprics of Fulda, Paderborn, and the ecclesiastical +territories which bordered on Hesse. The terrified states hastened by +a speedy submission to set limits to his progress, and by considerable +contributions to purchase exemption from plunder. After these +successful enterprises, the Landgrave united his victorious army with +that of Gustavus Adolphus, and concerted with him at Frankfort their +future plan of operations. + +In this city, a number of princes and ambassadors were assembled to +congratulate Gustavus on his success, and either to conciliate his +favor or to appease his indignation. Among them was the fugitive King +of Bohemia, the Palatine Frederick V., who had hastened from Holland +to throw himself into the arms of his avenger and protector. Gustavus +gave him the unprofitable honor of greeting him as a crowned head, and +endeavored, by a respectful sympathy, to soften his sense of his +misfortunes. But great as the advantages were, which Frederick had +promised himself from the power and good fortune of his protector; and +high as were the expectations he had built on his justice and +magnanimity, the chance of this unfortunate prince's reinstatement in +his kingdom was as distant as ever. The inactivity and contradictory +policies of the English court had abated the zeal of Gustavus +Adolphus, and an irritability which he could not always repress made +him on this occasion forget the glorious vocation of protector of the +oppressed, in which, on his invasion of Germany, he had so loudly +announced himself. + +The terrors of the king's irresistible strength, and the near prospect +of his vengeance, had also compelled George, Landgrave of Hesse +Darmstadt, to a timely submission. His connection with the Emperor, +and his indifference to the Protestant cause, were no secret to the +king, but he was satisfied with laughing at so impotent an enemy. As +the Landgrave knew his own strength and the political situation of +Germany so little as to offer himself as mediator between the +contending parties, Gustavus used jestingly to call him the +peacemaker. He was frequently heard to say, when at play he was +winning from the Landgrave, "that the money afforded double +satisfaction, as it was Imperial coin." To his affinity with the +Elector of Saxony, whom Gustavus had cause to treat with forbearance, +the Landgrave was indebted for the favorable terms he obtained from +the king, who contented himself with the surrender of his fortress of +Rsselheim and his promise of observing a strict neutrality during the +war. The Counts of Westerwald and Wetterau also visited the king in +Frankfort, to offer him their assistance against the Spaniards, and to +conclude an alliance, which was afterward of great service to him. The +town of Frankfort itself had reason to rejoice at the presence of this +monarch, who took their commerce under his protection, and by the most +effectual measures restored the fairs, which had been greatly +interrupted by the war. + +The Swedish army was now reinforced by ten thousand Hessians, which +the Landgrave of Casse commanded. Gustavus Adolphus had already +invested Knigstein; Kostheim and Flrsheim surrendered after a short +siege; he was in command of the Main; and transports were preparing +with all speed at Hchst to carry his troops across the Rhine. These +preparations filled the Elector of Mentz, Anselm Casimir, with +consternation; and he no longer doubted but that the storm of war +would next fall upon him. As a partisan of the Emperor, and one of the +most active members of the League, he could expect no better treatment +than his confederates, the Bishops of Wrtzburg and Bamberg, had +already experienced. The situation of his territories upon the Rhine +made it necessary for the enemy to secure them, while their fertility +afforded an irresistible temptation to a necessitous army. +Miscalculating his own strength and that of his adversaries, the +Elector flattered himself that he was able to repel force by force, +and weary out the valor of the Swedes by the strength of his +fortresses. He ordered the fortifications of his capital to be +repaired with all diligence, provided it with every necessary for +sustaining a long siege, and received into the town a garrison of +2,000 Spaniards, under Don Philip de Sylva. To prevent the approach of +the Swedish transports, he endeavored to close the mouth of the Main +by driving piles and sinking large heaps of stones and vessels. He +himself, however, accompanied by the Bishop of Worms, and carrying +with him his most precious effects, took refuge in Cologne, and +abandoned his capital and territories to the rapacity of a tyrannical +garrison. But these preparations, which bespoke less of true courage +than of weak and overweening confidence, did not prevent the Swedes +from marching against Mentz and making serious preparations for an +attack upon the city. While one body of their troops poured into the +Rheingau, routed the Spaniards who remained there, and levied +contributions on the inhabitants, another laid the Roman Catholic +towns in Westerwald and Wetterau under similar contributions. The main +army had encamped at Cassel, opposite Mentz; and Bernhard, Duke of +Weimar, made himself master of the Musethurm and the Castle of +Ehrenfels, on the other side of the Rhine. Gustavus was now actively +preparing to cross the river and to blockade the town on the land +side, when the movements of Tilly in Franconia suddenly called him +from the siege, and obtained for the Elector a short repose. + +The danger of Nuremberg, which, during the absence of Gustavus +Adolphus on the Rhine, Tilly had made a show of besieging, and, in the +event of resistance, threatened with the cruel fate of Magdeburg, +occasioned the king suddenly to retire from before Mentz. Lest he +should expose himself a second time to the reproaches of Germany, and +the disgrace of abandoning a confederate city to a ferocious enemy, he +hastened to its relief by forced marches. On his arrival at Frankfort, +however, he heard of its spirited resistance, and of the retreat of +Tilly, and lost not a moment in prosecuting his designs against Mentz. +Failing in an attempt to cross the Rhine at Cassel, under the cannon +of the besieged, he directed his march toward the Bergstrasse, with a +view of approaching the town from an opposite quarter. Here he quickly +made himself master of all the places of importance, and at +Stockstadt, between Gernsheim and Oppenheim, appeared a second time +upon the banks of the Rhine. The whole of the Bergstrasse was +abandoned by the Spaniards, who endeavored obstinately to defend the +other bank of the river. For this purpose, they had burned or sunk all +the vessels in the neighborhood, and arranged a formidable force on +the banks, in case the king should attempt the passage at that place. + +On this occasion, the king's impetuosity exposed him to great danger +of falling into the hands of the enemy. In order to reconnoitre the +opposite bank, he crossed the river in a small boat; he had scarcely +landed when he was attacked by a party of Spanish horse, from whose +hands he saved himself only by a precipitate retreat. Having at last, +with the assistance of the neighboring fishermen, succeeded in +procuring a few transport, he dispatched two of them across the river, +bearing Count Brahe and 300 Swedes. Scarcely had this officer time to +intrench himself on the opposite bank, when he was attacked by 14 +squadrons of Spanish dragoons and cuirassiers. Superior as the enemy +was in numbers, Count Brahe, with his small force, bravely defended +himself, and gained time for the king to support him with fresh +troops. The Spaniards at last retired with the loss of 600 men, some +taking refuge in Oppenheim, and others in Mentz. A lion of marble on a +high pillar, holding a naked sword in his paw, and a helmet on his +head, was erected seventy years after the event, to point out to the +traveler the spot where the immortal monarch crossed the great river +of Germany. + +Gustavus Adolphus now conveyed his artillery and the greater part of +his troops over the river, and laid siege to Oppenheim, which, after a +brave resistance, was, on December 8, 1631, carried by storm. Five +hundred Spaniards, who had so courageously defended the place, fell +indiscriminately a sacrifice to the fury of the Swedes. The crossing +of the Rhine by Gustavus struck terror into the Spaniards and +Lorrainers, who had thought themselves protected by the river from the +vengeance of the Swedes. Rapid flight was now their only security; +every place incapable of an effectual defence was immediately +abandoned. After a long train of outrages on the defenceless citizens, +the troops of Lorraine evacuated Worms, which, before their departure, +they treated with wanton cruelty. The Spaniards hastened to shut +themselves up in Frankenthal, where they hoped to defy the victorious +arms of Gustavus Adolphus. + +The king lost no time in prosecuting his designs against Mentz, into +which the flower of the Spanish troops had thrown themselves. While he +advanced on the left bank of the Rhine, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel +moved forward on the other, reducing several strong places on his +march. The besieged Spaniards, though hemmed in on both sides, +displayed at first a bold determination, and threw, for several days, +a shower of bombs into the Swedish camp, which cost the king many of +his bravest soldiers. But notwithstanding, the Swedes continually +gained ground, and had at last advanced so close to the ditch that +they prepared seriously for storming the place. The courage of the +besieged now began to droop. They trembled before the furious +impetuosity of the Swedish soldiers, of which Marienberg, in +Wrtzburg, had afforded so fearful an example. The same dreadful fate +awaited Mentz, if taken by storm; and the enemy might even be easily +tempted to revenge the carnage of Magdeburg on this rich and +magnificent residence of a Roman Catholic prince. To save the town, +rather than their own lives, the Spanish garrison capitulated on the +fourth day, and obtained from the magnanimity of Gustavus a safe +conduct to Luxemburg; the greater part of them, however, following the +example of many others, enlisted in the service of Sweden. + +On the 13th of December, 1631, the king made his entry into the +conquered town, and fixed his quarters in the palace of the Elector. +Eighty pieces of cannon fell into his hands, and the citizens were +obliged to redeem their property from pillage by a payment of 80,000 +florins. The benefits of this redemption did not extend to the Jews +and the clergy, who were obliged to make large and separate +contributions for themselves. The library of the Elector was seized by +the king as his share, and presented by him to his chancellor, +Oxenstiern, who intended it for the Academy of Westerrah, but the +vessel in which it was shipped to Sweden foundered at sea. + +After the loss of Mentz, misfortune still pursued the Spaniards on the +Rhine. Shortly before the capture of that city, the Landgrave of Hesse +Cassel had taken Falkenstein and Reifenberg, and the fortress of +Kningstein surrendered to the Hessians. The Rhinegrave, Otto Louis, +one of the king's generals, defeated nine Spanish squadrons who were +on their march for Frankenthal, and made himself master of the most +important towns upon the Rhine, from Boppart to Bacharach. After the +capture of the fortress of Braunfels, which was effected by the Count +of Wetterau, with the coperation of the Swedes, the Spaniards quickly +lost every place in Wetterau, while in the Palatine they retained few +places besides Frankenthal. Landau and Kronweisenberg openly declared +for the Swedes; Spires offered troops for the king's service; Mannheim +was gained through the prudence of the Duke Bernard of Weimar and the +negligence of its governor, who, for this misconduct, was tried before +the council of war, at Heidelberg, and beheaded. + +The king had protracted the campaign into the depth of winter, and the +severity of the season was perhaps one cause of the advantage his +soldiers gained over those of the enemy. But the exhausted troops now +stood in need of the repose of winter quarters, which, after the +surrender of Mentz, Gustavus assigned to them in its neighborhood. He +himself employed the interval of inactivity in the field, which the +season of the year enjoined, in arranging, with his chancellor, the +affairs of his cabinet, in treating for a neutrality with some of his +enemies, and adjusting some political disputes which had sprung up +with a neighboring ally. He chose the city of Mentz for his winter +quarters, and the settlement of these state affairs, and showed a +greater partiality for this town than seemed consistent with the +interests of the German princes, or the shortness of his visit to the +Empire. Not content with strongly fortifying it, he erected at the +opposite angle which the Main forms with the Rhine, a new citadel, +which was named Gustavusburg from its founder, but which is better +known under the title of Pfaffenraub or Pfaffenzwang.[60] + +While Gustavus Adolphus made himself master of the Rhine, and +threatened the three neighboring electorates with his victorious arms, +his vigilant enemies in Paris and St. Germain's made use of every +artifice to deprive him of the support of France, and, if possible, to +involve him in a war with that power. By his sudden and equivocal +march to the Rhine, he had surprised his friends, and furnished his +enemies with the means of exciting a distrust of his intentions. After +the conquest of Wrtzburg, and of the greater part of Franconia, the +road into Bavaria and Austria lay open to him through Bamberg and the +Upper Palatinate; and the expectation was as general, as it was +natural, that he would not delay to attack the Emperor and the Duke of +Bavaria in the very centre of their power, and, by the reduction of +his two principal enemies, bring the war immediately to an end. But to +the surprise of both parties, Gustavus left the path which general +expectation had thus marked out for him; and instead of advancing to +the right, turned to the left, to make the less important and more +innocent princes of the Rhine feel his power, while he gave time to +his more formidable opponents to recruit their strength. Nothing but +the paramount design of reinstating the unfortunate Palatine, +Frederick V., in the possession of his territories, by the expulsion +of the Spaniards, could seem to account for this strange step; and +the belief that Gustavus was about to effect that restoration silenced +for a while the suspicions of his friends and the calumnies of his +enemies. But the Lower Palatinate was now almost entirely cleared of +the enemy; and yet Gustavus continued to form new schemes of conquest +on the Rhine, and to withhold the reconquered country from the +Palatine, its rightful owner. In vain did the English ambassador +remind him of what justice demanded, and what his own solemn +engagement made a duty of honor; Gustavus replied to these demands +with bitter complaints of the inactivity of the English court, and +prepared to carry his victorious standard into Alsace, and even into +Lorraine. + +A distrust of the Swedish monarch was now loud and open, while the +malice of his enemies busily circulated the most injurious reports as +to his intentions. Richelieu, the minister of Louis XIII., had long +witnessed with anxiety the king's progress toward the French frontier, +and the suspicious temper of Louis rendered him but too accessible to +the evil surmises which the occasion gave rise to. France was at this +time involved in a civil war with her Protestant subjects, and the +fear was not altogether groundless that the approach of a victorious +monarch of their party might revive their drooping spirit, and +encourage them to a more desperate resistance. This might be the case, +even if Gustavus Adolphus was far from showing a disposition to +encourage them, or to act unfaithfully toward his ally, the King of +France. But the vindictive Bishop of Wrtzburg, who was anxious to +avenge the loss of his dominions, the envenomed rhetoric of the +Jesuits and the active zeal of the Bavarian minister, represented this +dreaded alliance between the Huguenots and the Swedes as an undoubted +fact, and filled the timid mind of Louis with the most alarming fears. +Not merely chimerical politicians, but many of the best informed Roman +Catholics, fully believed that the king was on the point of breaking +into the heart of France, to make common cause with the Huguenots, and +to overturn the Catholic religion within the kingdom. Fanatical +zealots already saw him, with his army, crossing the Alps, and +dethroning the Vice-regent of Christ in Italy. Such reports no doubt +soon refute themselves; yet it cannot be denied that Gustavus, by his +manoeuvres on the Rhine, gave a dangerous handle to the malice of his +enemies, and in some measure justified the suspicion that he directed +his arms, not so much against the Emperor and the Duke of Bavaria, as +against the Roman Catholic religion itself. + +The general clamor of discontent which the Jesuits raised in all the +Catholic courts against the alliance between France and the enemy of +the church, at last compelled Cardinal Richelieu to take a decisive +step for the security of his religion, and at once to convince the +Roman Catholic world of the zeal of France, and of the selfish policy +of the ecclesiastical states of Germany. Convinced that the views of +the King of Sweden, like his own, aimed solely at the humiliation of +the power of Austria, he hesitated not to promise to the princes of +the League, on the part of Sweden, a complete neutrality, immediately +they abandoned their alliance with the Emperor and withdrew their +troops. Whatever the resolution these princes should adopt, Richelieu +would equally attain his object. By their separation from the Austrian +interest, Ferdinand would be exposed to the combined attack of France +and Sweden; and Gustavus Adolphus, freed from his other enemies in +Germany, would be able to direct his undivided force against the +hereditary dominions of Austria. In that event, the fall of Austria +was inevitable, and this great object of Richelieu's policy would be +gained without injury to the church. If, on the other hand, the +princes of the League persisted in their opposition and adhered to the +Austrian alliance, the result would indeed be more doubtful, but still +France would have sufficiently proved to all Europe the sincerity of +her attachment to the Catholic cause, and performed her duty as a +member of the Roman Church. The princes of the League would then +appear the sole authors of those evils, which the continuance of the +war would unavoidably bring upon the Roman Catholics of Germany; they +alone, by their wilful and obstinate adherence to the Emperor, would +frustrate the measures employed for their protection, involve the +church in danger, and themselves in ruin. + +Richelieu pursued this plan with greater zeal, the more he was +embarrassed by the repeated demands of the Elector of Bavaria for +assistance from France; for this prince, as already stated, when he +first began to entertain suspicion of the Emperor, entered immediately +into a secret alliance with France, by which, in the event of any +change in the Emperor's sentiments, he hoped to secure the possession +of the Palatinate. But though the origin of the treaty clearly showed +against what enemy it was directed, Maximilian now thought proper to +make use of it against the King of Sweden, and did not hesitate to +demand from France that assistance against her ally which she had +simply promised against Austria. Richelieu, embarrassed by this +conflicting alliance with two hostile powers, had no resource left but +to endeavor to put a speedy termination to their hostilities; and as +little inclined to sacrifice Bavaria, as he was disabled, by his +treaty with Sweden, from assisting it, he set himself, with all +diligence, to bring about a neutrality as the only means of fulfilling +his obligations to both. For this purpose, the Marquis of Breze was +sent, as his plenipotentiary, to the King of Sweden at Mentz, to learn +his sentiments on this point, and to procure from him favorable +conditions for the allied princes. But if Louis XIII. had powerful +motives for wishing for this neutrality, Gustavus Adolphus had as +grave reasons for desiring the contrary. Convinced by numerous proofs +that the hatred of the princes of the League to the Protestant +religion was invincible, their aversion to the foreign power of the +Swedes inextinguishable, and their attachment to the House of Austria +irrevocable, he apprehended less danger from their open hostility than +from a neutrality which was so little in unison with their real +inclinations; and, moreover, as he was constrained to carry on the war +in Germany at the expense of the enemy, he manifestly sustained great +loss if he diminished their number without increasing that of his +friends. It was not surprising, therefore, if Gustavus evinced little +inclination to purchase the neutrality of the League, by which he was +likely to gain so little, at the expense of the advantages he had +already obtained. + +The conditions, accordingly, upon which he offered to adopt the +neutrality toward Bavaria were severe, and suited to these views. He +required of the whole League a full and entire cessation from all +hostilities; the recall of their troops from the imperial army, from +the conquered towns, and from all the Protestant countries; the +reduction of their military force; the exclusion of the imperial +armies from their territories, and from supplies either of men, +provisions, or ammunition. Hard as the conditions were, which the +victor thus imposed upon the vanquished, the French mediator flattered +himself he should be able to induce the Elector of Bavaria to accept +them. In order to give time for an accommodation, Gustavus had agreed +to a cessation of hostilities for a fortnight. But at the very time +when this monarch was receiving from the French agents repeated +assurances of the favorable progress of the negotiation, an +intercepted letter from the Elector to Pappenheim, the imperial +general in Westphalia, revealed the perfidy of that prince, as having +no other object in view by the whole negotiation than to gain time for +his measures of defence. Far from intending to fetter his military +operations by a truce with Sweden, the artful prince hastened his +preparations, and employed the leisure which his enemy afforded him, +in making the most active dispositions for resistance. The negotiation +accordingly failed, and served only to increase the animosity of the +Bavarians and the Swedes. + +Tilly's augmented force, with which he threatened to overrun +Franconia, urgently required the king's presence in that circle; but +it was necessary to expel previously the Spaniards from the Rhine, and +to cut off their means of invading Germany from the Netherlands. With +this view, Gustavus Adolphus had made an offer of neutrality to the +Elector of Treves, Philip von Zeltern, on condition that the fortress +of Hermanstein should be delivered up to him, and a free passage +granted to his troops through Coblentz. But unwillingly as the Elector +had beheld the Spaniards within his territories, he was still less +disposed to commit his estates to the suspicious protection of a +heretic, and to make the Swedish conqueror master of his destinies. +Too weak to maintain his independence between two such powerful +competitors, he took refuge in the protection of France. With his +usual prudence, Richelieu profited by the embarrassments of this +prince to augment the power of France, and to gain for her an +important ally on the German frontier. A numerous French army was +dispatched to protect the territory of Treves, and a French garrison +was received into Ehrenbreitstein. But the object which had moved the +Elector to this bold step was not completely gained, for the offended +pride of Gustavus Adolphus was not appeased till he had obtained a +free passage for his troops through Treves. + +Pending these negotiations with Treves and France, the king's generals +had entirely cleared the territory of Mentz of the Spanish garrisons, +and Gustavus himself completed the conquest of this district by the +capture of Kreutznach. To protect these conquests, the chancellor +Oxenstiern was left with a division of the army upon the Middle Rhine, +while the main body, under the king himself, began its march against +the enemy in Franconia. + +The possession of this circle had, in the meantime, been disputed with +variable success between Count Tilly and the Swedish General Horn, +whom Gustavus had left there with 8,000 men; and the Bishopric of +Bamberg, in particular, was at once the prize and the scene of their +struggle. Called away to the Rhine by his other projects, the king had +left to his general the chastisement of the bishop, whose perfidy had +excited his indignation, and the activity of Horn justified the +choice. In a short time, he subdued the greater part of the bishopric; +and the capital itself, abandoned by its imperial garrison, was +carried by storm. The banished bishop urgently demanded assistance +from the Elector of Bavaria, who was at length persuaded to put an end +to Tilly's inactivity. Fully empowered by his master's order to +restore the bishop to his possessions, this general collected his +troops, who were scattered over the Upper Palatinate, and with an army +of 20,000 men advanced upon Bamberg. Firmly resolved to maintain his +conquest even against this overwhelming force, Horn awaited the enemy +within the walls of Bamberg; but was obliged to yield to the vanguard +of Tilly what he had thought to be able to dispute with his whole +army. A panic which suddenly seized his troops, and which no presence +of mind of their general could check, opened the gates to the enemy, +and it was with difficulty that the troops, baggage, and artillery +were saved. The reconquest of Bamberg was the fruit of this victory; +but Tilly, with all his activity, was unable to overtake the Swedish +general, who retired in good order behind the Main. The king's +appearance in Franconia, and his junction with Gustavus Horn at +Kitzingen, put a stop to Tilly's conquests, and compelled him to +provide for his own safety by a rapid retreat. + +The king made a general review of his troops at Aschaffenburg. After +his junction with Gustavus Horn, Banner, and Duke William of Weimar, +they amounted to nearly 40,000 men. His progress through Franconia was +uninterrupted; for Tilly, far too weak to encounter an enemy so +superior in numbers, had retreated, by rapid marches, toward the +Danube. Bohemia and Bavaria were now equally near to the king, and, +uncertain whither his victorious course might be directed, Maximilian +could form no immediate resolution. The choice, of the king, and the +fate of both provinces, now depended on the road that should be left +open to Count Tilly. It was dangerous, during the approach of so +formidable an enemy, to leave Bavaria undefended, in order to protect +Austria; still more dangerous, by receiving Tilly into Bavaria, to +draw thither the enemy also, and to render it the seat of a +destructive war. The cares of the sovereign finally overcame the +scruples of the statesman, and Tilly received orders, at all hazards, +to cover the frontiers of Bavaria with his army. + +Nuremberg received with triumphant joy the protector of the Protestant +religion and German freedom, and the enthusiasm of the citizens +expressed itself on his arrival in loud transports of admiration and +joy. Even Gustavus could not contain his astonishment, to see himself +in this city, which was the very centre of Germany, where he had never +expected to be able to penetrate. The noble appearance of his person +completed the impression produced by his glorious exploits, and the +condescension with which he received the congratulations of this free +city won all hearts. He now confirmed the alliance he had concluded +with it on the shores of the Baltic, and excited the citizens to +zealous activity and fraternal unity against the common enemy. After a +short stay in Nuremberg, he followed his army to the Danube, and +appeared unexpectedly before the frontier town of Donauwerth. A +numerous Bavarian garrison defended the place; and their commander, +Rodolph Maximilian, Duke of Saxe Lauenburg, showed at first a resolute +determination to defend it till the arrival of Tilly. But the vigor +with which Gustavus Adolphus prosecuted the siege soon compelled him +to take measures for a speedy and secure retreat, which amidst a +tremendous fire from the Swedish artillery he successfully executed. + +The conquest of Donauwerth opened to the king the further side of the +Danube, and now the small river Lech alone separated him from Bavaria. +The immediate danger of his dominions aroused all Maximilian's +activity; and however little he had hitherto disturbed the enemy's +progress to his frontier, he now determined to dispute as resolutely +the remainder of their course. On the opposite bank of the Lech, near +the small town of Rain, Tilly occupied a strongly fortified camp, +which, surrounded by three rivers, bade defiance to all attack. All +the bridges over the Lech were destroyed; the whole course of the +stream protected by strong garrisons as far as Augsburg; and that town +itself, which had long betrayed its impatience to follow the example +of Nuremberg and Frankfort, secured by a Bavarian garrison, and the +disarming of its inhabitants. The Elector himself, with all the troops +he could collect, threw himself into Tilly's camp, as if all his hopes +centred on this single point, and here the good fortune of the Swedes +was to suffer shipwreck forever. + +Gustavus Adolphus, after subduing the whole territory of Augsburg, on +his own side of the river, and opening to his troops a rich supply of +necessaries from that quarter, soon appeared on the bank opposite the +Bavarian intrenchments. It was now the month of March, when the river, +swollen by frequent rains and the melting of the snow from the +mountains of the Tyrol, flowed full and rapid between its steep banks. +Its boiling current threatened the rash assailants with certain +destruction, while from the opposite side the enemy's cannon showed +their murderous mouths. If, in despite of the fury both of fire and +water, they should accomplish this almost impossible passage, a fresh +and vigorous enemy awaited the exhausted troops in an impregnable +camp; and when they needed repose and refreshment they must prepare +for battle. With exhausted powers they must ascend the hostile +intrenchments, whose strength seemed to bid defiance to every assault. +A defeat sustained upon this shore would be attended with inevitable +destruction, since the same stream which impeded their advance would +also cut off their retreat, if fortune should abandon them. + +The Swedish council of war, which the king now assembled, strongly +urged upon him all these considerations, in order to deter him from +this dangerous undertaking. The most intrepid were appalled, and a +troop of honorable warriors, who had grown gray in the field, did not +hesitate to express their alarm. But the king's resolution was fixed. +"What!" said he to Gustavus Horn, who spoke for the rest, "have we +crossed the Baltic, and so many great rivers of Germany, and shall we +now be checked by a brook like the Lech?" Gustavus had already, at a +great personal risk, reconnoitred the whole country, and discovered +that his own side of the river was higher than the other, and +consequently gave a considerable advantage to the fire of the Swedish +artillery over that of the enemy. With great presence of mind he +determined to profit by this circumstance. At the point where the left +bank of the Lech forms an angle with the right, he immediately caused +three batteries to be erected, from which 72 field-pieces maintained a +cross fire upon the enemy. While this tremendous cannonade drove the +Bavarians from the opposite bank, he caused to be erected a bridge +over the river with all possible rapidity. A thick smoke, kept up by +burning wood and wet straw, concealed for some time the progress of +the work from the enemy, while the continued thunder of the cannon +overpowered the noise of the axes. He kept alive by his own example +the courage of his troops, and discharged more than 60 cannon with his +own hand. The cannonade was returned by the Bavarians with equal +vivacity for two hours, though with less effect, as the Swedish +batteries swept the lower opposite bank, while their height served as +a breast-work to their own troops. In vain, therefore, did the +Bavarians attempt to destroy these works; the superior fire of the +Swedes threw them into disorder, and the bridge was completed under +their very eyes. On this dreadful day, Tilly did everything in his +power to encourage his troops; and no danger could drive him from the +bank. At length he found the death which he sought--a cannon ball +shattered his leg; and Altringer, his brave companion-in-arms, was, +soon after, dangerously wounded in the head. Deprived of the animating +presence of their two generals, the Bavarians gave way at last, and +Maximilian, in spite of his own judgment, was driven to adopt a +pusillanimous resolve. Overcome by the persuasions of the dying +Tilly, whose wonted firmness was overpowered by the near approach of +death, he gave up his impregnable position for lost; and the discovery +by the Swedes of a ford, by which their cavalry were on the point of +passing, accelerated his inglorious retreat. The same night, before a +single soldier of the enemy had crossed the Lech, he broke up his +camp, and, without giving time for the king to harass him in his +march, retreated in good order to Neuburg and Ingolstadt. With +astonishment did Gustavus Adolphus, who completed the passage of the +river on the following day, behold the hostile camp abandoned: and the +Elector's flight surprised him still more, when he saw the strength of +the position he had quitted. "Had I been the Bavarian," said he, +"though a cannon ball had carried away my beard and chin, never would +I have abandoned a position like this, and laid open my territory to +my enemies." + +Bavaria now lay exposed to the conqueror; and, for the first time, the +tide of war, which had hitherto only beat against its frontier, now +flowed over its long spared and fertile fields. Before, however, the +king proceeded to the conquest of these provinces, he delivered the +town of Augsburg from the yoke of Bavaria; exacted an oath of +allegiance from the citizens; and to secure its observance, left a +garrison in the town. He then advanced, by rapid marches, against +Ingolstadt, in order, by the capture of this important fortress, which +the Elector covered with the greater part of his army, to secure his +conquest in Bavaria, and obtain a firm footing on the Danube. + +Shortly after the appearance of the Swedish King before Ingolstadt, +the wounded Tilly, after experiencing the caprice of unstable fortune, +terminated his career within the walls of that town. Conquered by the +superior generalship of Gustavus Adolphus, he lost, at the close of +his days, all the laurels of his earlier victories, and appeased, by a +series of misfortunes, the demands of justice, and the avenging manes +of Magdeburg. In his death, the Imperial army and that of the League +sustained an irreparable loss; the Roman Catholic religion was +deprived of its most zealous defender, and Maximilian of Bavaria of +the most faithful of his servants, who sealed his fidelity by his +death, and even in his dying moments fulfilled the duties of a +general. His last message to the Elector was an urgent advice to take +possession of Ratisbon, in order to maintain the command of the +Danube, and to keep open the communication with Bohemia. + +With the confidence which was the natural fruit of so many victories, +Gustavus Adolphus commenced the siege of Ingolstadt, hoping to gain +the town by the fury of his first assault. But the strength of its +fortifications, and the bravery of its garrison, presented obstacles +greater than any he had had to encounter since the battle of +Breitenfeld, and the walls of Ingolstadt were near putting an end to +his career. While reconnoitering the works, a 24-pounder killed his +horse under him, and he fell to the ground, while almost immediately +afterward another ball struck his favorite, the young Margrave of +Baden, by his side. With perfect self-possession the king rose, and +quieted the fears of his troops by immediately mounting another horse. + +The occupation of Ratisbon by the Bavarians, who, by the advice of +Tilly, had surprised this town by stratagem, and placed in it a strong +garrison, quickly changed the king's plan of operations. He had +flattered himself with the hope of gaining this town, which favored +the Protestant cause, and to find in it an ally as devoted to him as +Nuremberg, Augsburg, and Frankfort. Its seizure by the Bavarians +seemed to postpone for a long time the fulfilment of his favorite +project of making himself master of the Danube, and cutting off his +adversaries' supplies from Bohemia. He suddenly raised the siege of +Ingoldstadt, before which he had wasted both his time and his troops, +and penetrated into the interior of Bavaria, in order to draw the +Elector into that quarter for the defence of his territories, and thus +to strip the Danube of its defenders. + +The whole country, as far as Munich, now lay open to the conqueror. +Mosburg, Landshut, and the whole territory of Freysingen, submitted; +nothing could resist his arms. But if he met with no regular force to +oppose his progress, he had to contend against a still more implacable +enemy in the heart of every Bavarian--religious fanaticism. Soldiers +who did not believe in the Pope were, in this country, a new and +unheard-of phenomenon; the blind zeal of the priests represented them +to the peasantry as monsters, the children of hell, and their leader +as Antichrist. No wonder, then, if they thought themselves released +from all the ties of nature and humanity toward this brood of Satan, +and justified in committing the most savage atrocities upon them. Woe +to the Swedish soldier who fell into their hands! All the torments +which inventive malice could devise were exercised upon these unhappy +victims; and the sight of their mangled bodies exasperated the army to +a fearful retaliation. Gustavus Adolphus, alone, sullied the lustre of +his heroic character by no act of revenge; and the aversion which the +Bavarians felt toward his religion, far from making him depart from +the obligations of humanity toward that unfortunate people, seemed to +impose upon him the stricter duty to honor his religion by a more +constant clemency. + +The approach of the king spread terror and consternation in the +capital, which, stripped of its defenders, and abandoned by its +principal inhabitants, placed all its hopes in the magnanimity of the +conqueror. By an unconditional and voluntary surrender, it hoped to +disarm his vengeance, and sent deputies even to Freysingen to lay at +his feet the keys of the city. Strongly as the king might have been +tempted by the inhumanity of the Bavarians, and the hostility of their +sovereign, to make a dreadful use of the rights of victory; pressed as +he was by Germans to avenge the fate of Magdeburg on the capital of +its destroyer, this great prince scorned this mean revenge; and the +very helplessness of his enemies disarmed his severity. Contented with +the more noble triumph of conducting the Palatine Frederick with the +pomp of a victor into the very palace of the prince who had been the +chief instrument of his ruin and the usurper of his territories, he +heightened the brilliancy of his triumphal entry by the brighter +splendor of moderation and clemency. + +The king found in Munich only a forsaken palace, for the Elector's +treasures had been transported to Werfen. The magnificence of the +building astonished him; and he asked the guide who showed the +apartments, who was the architect. "No other," replied he, "than the +Elector himself."--"I wish," said the King, "I had this architect to +send to Stockholm." "That," he was answered, "the architect will take +care to prevent." When the arsenal was examined, they found nothing +but carriages, stripped of their cannon. The latter had been so +artfully concealed under the floor that no traces of them remained; +and but for the treachery of a workman, the deceit would not have been +detected. "Rise up from the dead," said the King, "and come to +judgment." The floor was pulled up, and 140 pieces of cannon +discovered, some of extraordinary calibre, which had been principally +taken in the Palatinate and Bohemia. A treasure of 30,000 gold ducats, +concealed in one of the largest, completed the pleasure which the King +received from this valuable acquisition. + +A far more welcome spectacle still would have been the Bavarian army +itself; for his march into the heart of Bavaria had been undertaken +chiefly with the view of luring them from their intrenchments. In this +expectation he was disappointed. No enemy appeared; no entreaties, +however urgent, on the part of his subjects, could induce the Elector +to risk the remainder of his army to the chances of a battle. Shut up +in Ratisbon, he awaited the reinforcements which Wallenstein was +bringing from Bohemia; and endeavored, in the meantime, to amuse his +enemy and keep him inactive, by reviving the negotiation for a +neutrality. But the King's distrust, too often and too justly excited +by his previous conduct, frustrated this design; and the intentional +delay of Wallenstein abandoned Bavaria to the Swedes. + +Thus far had Gustavus advanced from victory to victory, without +meeting with an enemy able to cope with him. A part of Bavaria and +Swabia, the Bishoprics of Franconia, the Lower Palatinate, and the +Archbishopric of Mentz, lay conquered in his rear. An uninterrupted +career of conquest had conducted him to the threshold of Austria; and +the most brilliant success had fully justified the plan of operations +which he had formed after the battle of Breitenfeld. If he had not +succeeded to his wish in promoting a confederacy among the Protestant +States, he had at least disarmed or weakened the League, carried on +the war chiefly at its expense, lessened the Emperor's resources, +emboldened the weaker States, and while he laid under contribution the +allies of the Emperor, forced a way through their territories into +Austria itself. Where arms were unavailing, the greatest service was +rendered by the friendship of the free cities, whose affections he had +gained, by the double ties of policy and religion; and, as long as he +should maintain his superiority in the field, he might reckon on every +thing from their zeal. By his conquests on the Rhine, the Spaniards +were cut off from the Lower Palatinate, even if the state of the war +in the Netherlands left them at liberty to interfere in the affairs of +Germany. The Duke of Lorraine, too, after his unfortunate campaign, +had been glad to adopt a neutrality. Even the numerous garrisons he +had left behind him, in his progress through Germany, had not +diminished his army; and, fresh and vigorous as when he first began +his march, he now stood in the centre of Bavaria, determined and +prepared to carry the war into the heart of Austria. + +While Gustavus Adolphus thus maintained his superiority within the +Empire, fortune, in another quarter, had been no less favorable to +his ally, the Elector of Saxony. By the arrangement concerted between +these princes at Halle, after the battle of Leipzig, the conquest of +Bohemia was intrusted to the Elector of Saxony, while the King +reserved for himself the attack upon the territories of the League. +The first fruits which the Elector reaped from the battle of +Breitenfeld was the reconquest of Leipzic, which was shortly followed +by the expulsion of the Austrian garrisons from the entire circle. +Reinforced by the troops who deserted to him from the hostile +garrisons, the Saxon General, Arnheim, marched toward Lusatia, which +had been overrun by an Imperial General, Rudolph von Tiefenbach, in +order to chastise the Elector for embracing the cause of the enemy. He +had already commenced in this weakly defended province the usual +course of devastation, taken several towns, and terrified Dresden +itself by his approach, when his destructive progress was suddenly +stopped by an express mandate from the Emperor to spare the +possessions of the King of Saxony. + +Ferdinand had perceived too late the errors of that policy which +reduced the Elector of Saxony to extremities and forcibly drove this +powerful monarch into an alliance with Sweden. By moderation, equally +ill-timed, he now wished to repair if possible the consequences of his +haughtiness; and thus committed a second error in endeavoring to +repair the first. To deprive his enemy of so powerful an ally, he had +opened, through the intervention of Spain, a negotiation with the +Elector; and in order to facilitate an accommodation, Tiefenbach was +ordered immediately to retire from Saxony. But these concessions of +the Emperor, far from producing the desired effect, only revealed to +the Elector the embarrassment of his adversary and his own importance, +and emboldened him the more to prosecute the advantages he had already +obtained. How could he, moreover, without becoming chargeable with the +most shameful ingratitude, abandon an ally to whom he had given the +most solemn assurances of fidelity, and to whom he was indebted for +the preservation of his dominions and even of his Electoral dignity? + +The Saxon army, now relieved from the necessity of marching into +Lusatia, advanced toward Bohemia, where a combination of favorable +circumstances seemed to insure them an easy victory. In his kingdom, +the first scene of this fatal war, the flames of dissension still +smoldered beneath the ashes, while the discontent of the inhabitants +was fomented by daily acts of oppression and tyranny. On every side, +this unfortunate country showed signs of a mournful change. Whole +districts had changed their proprietors, and groaned under the hated +yoke of Roman Catholic masters, whom the favor of the Emperor and the +Jesuits had enriched with the plunder and possessions of the exiled +Protestants. Others, taking advantage themselves of the general +distress, had purchased, at a low rate, the confiscated estates. The +blood of the most eminent champions of liberty had been shed upon the +scaffold; and such as by a timely flight avoided that fate, were +wandering in misery far from their native land, while the obsequious +slaves of despotism enjoyed their patrimony. Still more insupportable +than the oppression of these petty tyrants, was the restraint of +conscience which was imposed without distinction on all the +Protestants of that kingdom. No external danger, no opposition on the +part of the nation, however steadfast, not even the fearful lessons of +past experience, could check in the Jesuits the rage of proselytism; +where fair means were ineffectual, recourse was had to military force +to bring the deluded wanderers within the pale of the church. The +inhabitants of Joachimsthal, on the frontiers between Bohemia and +Meissen, were the chief sufferers from this violence. Two imperial +commissaries, accompanied by as many Jesuits and supported by fifteen +musketeers, made their appearance in this peaceful valley to preach +the gospel to the heretics. Where the rhetoric of the former was +ineffectual, the forcibly quartering the latter upon the houses, and +threats of banishment and fines were tried. But on this occasion, the +good cause prevailed, and the bold resistance of this small district +compelled the Emperor disgracefully to recall his mandate of +conversion. The example of the court had, however, afforded a +precedent to the Roman Catholics of the Empire, and seemed to justify +every act of oppression which their insolence tempted them to wreak +upon the Protestants. It is not surprising, then, if this persecuted +party was favorable to a revolution and saw with pleasure their +deliverers on the frontiers. + +The Saxon army was already on its march toward Prague; the imperial +garrisons everywhere retired before them. Schloeckenau, Tetschen, +Aussig, Leutmeritz, soon fell into the enemy's hands, and every Roman +Catholic place was abandoned to plunder. Consternation seized all the +Papists of the Empire; and conscious of the outrages which they +themselves had committed on the Protestants, they did not venture to +abide the vengeful arrival of a Protestant army. All the Roman +Catholics, who had anything to lose, fled hastily from the country to +the capital, which again they presently abandoned. Prague was +unprepared for an attack, and was too weakly garrisoned to sustain a +long siege. Too late had the Emperor resolved to despatch +Field-Marshal Tiefenbach to the defence of this capital. Before the +imperial orders could reach the head-quarters of that general, in +Silesia, the Saxons were already close to Prague, the Protestant +inhabitants of which showed little zeal, while the weakness of the +garrison left no room to hope a long resistance. In this fearful state +of embarrassment, the Roman Catholics of Prague looked for security to +Wallenstein, who now lived in that city as a private individual. But +far from lending his military experience, and the weight of his name, +toward its defence, he seized the favorable opportunity to satiate his +thirst for revenge. If he did not actually invite the Saxons to +Prague, at least his conduct facilitated its capture. Though +unprepared, the town might still hold out until succors could arrive; +and an imperial colonel, Count Maradas, showed serious intentions of +undertaking its defence. But without command and authority, and having +no support but his own zeal and courage, he did not dare to venture +upon such a step without the advice of a superior. He therefore +consulted the Duke of Friedland, whose approbation might supply the +want of authority from the Emperor and to whom the Bohemian generals +were referred by an express edict of the court in the last extremity. +He, however, artfully excused himself on the plea of holding no +official appointment and his long retirement from the political world; +while he weakened the resolution of the subalterns by the scruples +which he suggested and painted in the strongest colors. At last, to +render the consternation general and complete, he quitted the capital +with his whole court, however little he had to fear from its capture; +and the city was lost, because, by his departure, he showed that he +despaired of its safety. His example was followed by all the Roman +Catholic nobility, the generals with their troops, the clergy, and all +the officers of the crown. All night the people were employed in +saving their persons and effects. The roads to Vienna were crowded +with fugitives, who scarcely recovered from their consternation till +they reached the imperial city. Maradas himself, despairing of the +safety of Prague, followed the rest, and led his small detachment to +Tabor, where he awaited the event. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN VAN DYCK] + +Profound silence reigned in Prague, when the Saxons next morning +appeared before it; no preparations were made for defence; not a +single shot from the walls announced an intention of resistance. On +the contrary, a crowd of spectators from the town, allured by +curiosity, came flocking round to behold the foreign army; and the +peaceful confidence with which they advanced, resembled a friendly +salutation more than a hostile reception. From the concurrent reports +of these people, the Swedes learned that the town had been deserted by +the troops, and that the government had fled to Budweiss. This +unexpected and inexplicable absence of resistance excited Arnheim's +distrust the more, as the speedy approach of the Silesian succors was +no secret to him, and as he knew that the Saxon army was too +indifferently provided with materials for undertaking a siege and by +far too weak in numbers to attempt to take the place by storm. +Apprehensive of stratagem, he redoubled his vigilance; and he +continued in this conviction until Wallenstein's house-steward, whom +he discovered among the crowd, confirmed to him this intelligence. +"The town is ours without a blow!" exclaimed he in astonishment to his +officers, and immediately summoned it by a trumpeter. + +The citizens of Prague, thus shamefully abandoned by their defenders, +had long taken their resolution; all that they had to do was to secure +their properties and liberties by an advantageous capitulation. No +sooner was the treaty signed by the Saxon general, in his master's +name, than the gates were opened, without further opposition; and upon +the 11th of November, 1631, the army made their triumphal entry. The +Elector soon after followed in person, to receive the homage of those +whom he had newly taken under his protection; for it was only in the +character of protector that the three towns of Prague had surrendered +to him. Their allegiance to the Austrian monarchy was not to be +dissolved by the step they had taken. In proportion as the Papists' +apprehensions of reprisals on the part of the Protestants had been +exaggerated, so was their surprise great at the moderation of the +Elector and the discipline of his troops. Field-Marshal Arnheim +plainly evinced, on this occasion, his respect for Wallenstein. Not +content with sparing his estates on his march, he now placed guards +over his palace, in Prague, to prevent the plunder of any of his +effects. The Roman Catholics of the town were allowed the fullest +liberty of conscience; and of all the churches they had wrested from +the Protestants, four only were now taken back from them. From this +general indulgence none was excluded but the Jesuits, who were +generally considered as the authors of all past grievances and thus +banished the kingdom. + +John George belied not the submission and dependence with which the +terror of the imperial name inspired him; nor did he indulge at Prague +in a course of conduct which would assuredly have been pursued against +himself at Dresden by imperial generals, such as Tilly or Wallenstein. +He carefully distinguished between the enemy with whom he was at war, +and the head of the Empire, to whom he owed obedience. He did not +venture to touch the household furniture of the latter, while, without +scruple, he appropriated and transported to Dresden the cannon of the +former. He did not take up his residence in the imperial palace, but +in the house of Lichtenstein, being too modest to use the apartments +of one whom he had deprived of a kingdom. Had this trait been related +of a great man, and a hero, it would irresistibly excite our +admiration; but the character of this prince leaves us in doubt +whether such moderation ought to be ascribed to a noble self-command +or to the littleness of a weak mind which even good fortune could not +embolden and liberty itself could not strip of its habituated fetters. + +The surrender of Prague, which was quickly followed by that of most of +the other towns, effected a great and sudden change in Bohemia. Many +of the Protestant nobility, who had hitherto been wandering about in +misery, now returned to their native country; and Count Thurn, the +famous author of the Bohemian insurrection, enjoyed the triumph of +returning as a conqueror to the scene of his crime and his +condemnation. Over the very bridge where the heads of his adherents, +exposed to view, held out a fearful picture of the fate which had +threatened himself, he now made his triumphal entry; and to remove +these ghastly objects was his first care. The exiles again took +possession of their properties, without thinking of recompensing for +the purchase money the present possessors, who had mostly taken to +flight. Even though they had received a price for their estates, they +seized on everything which had once been their own; and many had +reason to rejoice at the economy of the late possessors. The lands and +cattle had greatly improved in their hands; the apartments were now +decorated with the most costly furniture; the cellars, which had been +left empty, were richly filled; the stables supplied; the magazines +stored with provisions. But distrusting the constancy of that good +fortune, which had so unexpectedly smiled upon them, they hastened to +get rid of these insecure possessions, and to convert their immovable +into transferable property. + +The presence of the Saxons inspired all the Protestants of the +kingdom with courage; and, both in the country and the capital, crowds +flocked to the newly opened Protestant churches. Many, whom fear alone +had retained in their adherence to Popery, now openly professed the +new doctrine; and many of the late converts to Roman Catholicism +gladly renounced a compulsory persuasion, to follow the earlier +conviction of their conscience. All the moderation of the new regency +could not restrain the manifestation of that just displeasure which +this persecuted people felt against their oppressors. They made a +fearful and cruel use of their newly recovered rights; and, in many +parts of the kingdom, their hatred of the religion which they had been +compelled to profess, could be satiated only by the blood of its +adherents. + +Meantime the succors which the imperial generals, Goetz and +Tiefenbach, were conducting from Silesia, had entered Bohemia, where +they were joined by some of Tilly's regiments from the Upper +Palatinate. In order to disperse them before they should receive any +further reinforcement, Arnheim advanced with part of his army from +Prague, and made a vigorous attack on their intrenchments near +Limburg, on the Elbe. After a severe action, not without great loss, +he drove the enemy from their fortified camp and forced them, by his +heavy fire, to recross the Elbe and to destroy the bridge which they +had built over that river. Nevertheless, the Imperialists obtained the +advantage in several skirmishes, and the Croats pushed their +incursions to the very gates of Prague. Brilliant and promising as the +opening of the Bohemian campaign had been, the issue by no means +satisfied the expectations of Gustavus Adolphus. Instead of vigorously +following up their advantages, by forcing a passage to the Swedish +army through the conquered country, and then, with it, attacking the +imperial power in its centre, the Saxons weakened themselves in a war +of skirmishes, in which they were not always successful, while they +lost the time which should have been devoted to greater undertakings. +But the Elector's subsequent conduct betrayed the motives which had +prevented him from pushing his advantage over the Emperor, and by +consistent measures promoting the plans of the King of Sweden. + +The Emperor had now lost the greater part of Bohemia, and the Saxons +were advancing against Austria, while the Swedish monarch was rapidly +moving to the same point through Franconia, Swabia, and Bavaria. A +long war had exhausted the strength of the Austrian monarchy, wasted +the country, and diminished its armies. The renown of its victories +was no more, as well as the confidence inspired by constant success; +its troops had lost the obedience and discipline to which those of the +Swedish monarch owed all their superiority in the field. The +confederates of the Emperor were disarmed, or their fidelity shaken by +the danger which threatened themselves. Even Maximilian of Bavaria, +Austria's most powerful ally, seemed disposed to yield to the +seductive proposition of neutrality; while his suspicious alliance +with France had long been a subject of apprehension to the Emperor. +The bishop of Wrtzburg and Bamberg, the Elector of Mentz, and the +Duke of Lorraine, were either expelled from their territories or +threatened with immediate attack; Treves had placed itself under the +protection of France. The bravery of the Hollanders gave full +employment to the Spanish arms in the Netherlands; while Gustavus had +driven them from the Rhine. Poland was still fettered by the truce +which subsisted between that country and Sweden. The Hungarian +frontier was threatened by the Transylvania Prince, Ragotsky, a +successor of Bethlem Gabor and the inheritor of his restless mind; +while the Porte was making great preparation to profit by the +favorable conjuncture for aggression. Most of the Protestant states, +encouraged by their protector's success, were openly and actively +declaring against the Emperor. All the resources which had been +obtained by the violent and oppressive extortions of Tilly and +Wallenstein were exhausted; all these depts, magazines, and +rallying-points were now lost to the Emperor; and the war could no +longer be carried on as before at the cost of others. To complete his +embarrassment, a dangerous insurrection broke out in the territory of +the Ens, where the ill-timed religious zeal of the government had +provoked the Protestants to resistance; and thus fanaticism lit its +torch within the empire, while a foreign enemy was already on its +frontier. After so long a continuance of good fortune, such brilliant +victories and extensive conquests, such fruitless effusion of blood, +the Emperor saw himself a second time on the brink of that abyss into +which he was so near falling at the commencement of his reign. If +Bavaria should embrace the neutrality; if Saxony should resist the +tempting offers he had held out; and France resolve to attack the +Spanish power at the same time in the Netherlands, in Italy and in +Catalonia, the ruin of Austria would be complete; the allied powers +would divide its spoils, and the political system of Germany would +undergo a total change. + +The chain of these disasters began with the battle of Breitenfeld, the +unfortunate issue of which plainly revealed the long decided decline +of the Austrian power, whose weakness had hitherto been concealed +under the dazzling glitter of a grand name. The chief cause of the +Swedes' superiority in the field was evidently to be ascribed to the +unlimited power of their leader, who concentrated in himself the whole +strength of his party; and, unfettered in his enterprises by any +higher authority, was complete master of every favorable opportunity, +could control all his means to the accomplishment of his ends, and was +responsible to none but himself. But since Wallenstein's dismissal and +Tilly's defeat, the very reverse of this course was pursued by the +Emperor and the League. The generals wanted authority over their +troops, and liberty of acting at their discretion; the soldiers were +deficient in discipline and obedience; the scattered corps, in +combined operation; the states, in attachment to the cause; the +leaders lacked harmony among themselves, quickness to resolve, and +firmness to execute. What gave the Emperor's enemy so decided an +advantage over him was not so much their superior power, as their +manner of using it. The League and the Emperor did not want means, but +a mind capable of directing them with energy and effect. Even had +Count Tilly not lost his old renown, distrust of Bavaria would not +have allowed the Emperor to place the fate of Austria in the hands of +one who had never concealed his attachment to the Bavarian Elector. +The urgent want which Ferdinand felt was for a general possessed of +sufficient experience to form and to command an army and willing at +the same time to dedicate his services, with blind devotion, to the +Austrian monarchy. + +This choice now occupied the attention of the Emperor's privy council +and divided the opinions of its members. In order to oppose one +monarch to another, and by the presence of their sovereign to animate +the courage of the troops, Ferdinand, in the ardor of the moment, had +offered himself to be the leader of his army; but little trouble was +required to overturn a resolution which was the offspring of despair +alone, and which yielded at once to calm reflection. But the situation +which his dignity, and the duties of administration, prevented the +Emperor from holding, might be filled by his son, a youth of talents +and bravery, and of whom the subjects of Austria had already formed +great expectations. Called by his birth to the defence of a monarchy, +of whose crowns he wore two already, Ferdinand III., King of Hungary +and Bohemia, united, with the natural dignity of heir to the throne, +the respect of the army, and the attachment of the people, whose +coperation was indispensable to him in the conduct of the war. None +but the beloved heir to the crown could venture to impose new burdens +on a people already severely oppressed; his personal presence with the +army could alone suppress the pernicious jealousies of the several +leaders, and by the influence of his name restore the neglected +discipline of the troops to its former vigor. If so young a leader was +devoid of the maturity of judgment, prudence, and military experience +which practice alone could impart, this deficiency might be supplied +by a judicious choice of counsellors and assistants, who, under the +cover of his name, might be vested with supreme authority. + +But plausible as were the arguments with which a part of the ministry +supported this plan, it was met by difficulties not less serious, +arising from the distrust, perhaps even the jealousy, of the Emperor, +and also from the desperate state of affairs. How dangerous was it to +intrust the fate of the monarchy to a youth who was himself in need of +counsel and support! How hazardous to oppose to the greatest general +of his age, a tyro, whose fitness for so important a post had never +yet been tested by experience; whose name, as yet unknown to fame, was +far too powerless to inspire a dispirited army with the assurance of +future victory! What a new burden on the country to support the state +a royal leader was required to maintain, and which the prejudices of +the age considered as inseparable from his presence with the army! How +serious a consideration for the prince himself, to commence his +political career with an office which must make him the scourge of his +people and the oppressor of the territories which he was hereafter to +rule. + +But not only was a general to be found for the army; an army must also +be found for the general. Since the compulsory resignation of +Wallenstein, the Emperor had defended himself more by the assistance +of Bavaria and the League, than by his own armies; and it was this +dependence on equivocal allies, which he was endeavoring to escape, by +the appointment of a general of his own. But what possibility was +there of raising an army out of nothing, without the all-powerful aid +of gold and the inspiriting name of a victorious commander; above all, +an army which, by its discipline, warlike spirit, and activity, should +be fit to cope with the experienced troops of the northern conqueror? +In all Europe, there was but one man equal to this, and that one had +been mortally affronted. + +The moment had at last arrived when more than ordinary satisfaction +was to be done to the wounded pride of the Duke of Friedland. Fate +itself had been his avenger, and an unbroken chain of disasters, which +had assailed Austria from the day of his dismissal, had wrung from the +Emperor the humiliating confession that with this general he had lost +his right arm. Every defeat of his troops opened afresh this wound; +every town which he lost revived in the mind of the deceived monarch +the memory of his own weakness and ingratitude. It would have been +well for him, if, in the offended general, he had only lost a leader +of his troops, and a defender of his dominions; but he was destined to +find in him an enemy, and the most dangerous of all, since he was +least armed against the stroke of treason. Removed from the theatre of +war and condemned to irksome inaction, while his rivals gathered +laurels on the field of glory, the haughty duke had beheld these +changes of fortune with affected composure, and concealed, under a +glittering and theatrical pomp, the dark designs of his restless +genius. Torn by burning passions within, while all without bespoke +calmness and indifference, he brooded over projects of ambition and +revenge, and slowly, but surely, advanced toward his end. All that he +owed to the Emperor was effaced from his mind; what he himself had +done for the Emperor was imprinted in burning characters on his +memory. To his insatiable thirst for power, the Emperor's ingratitude +was welcome, as it seemed to tear in pieces the record of past favors, +to absolve him from every obligation toward his former benefactor. In +the disguise of a righteous retaliation, the projects dictated by his +ambition now appeared to him just and pure. In proportion as the +external circle of his operations was narrowed, the world of hope +expanded before him, and his dreamy imagination revelled in boundless +projects, which, in any mind but such as his, madness alone could +have given birth to. His services had raised him to the proudest +height which it was possible for a man, by his own efforts, to attain. +Fortune had denied him nothing which the subject and the citizen could +lawfully enjoy. Till the moment of his dismissal, his demands had met +with no refusal, his ambition had met with no check; but the blow +which, at the diet of Ratisbon, humbled him, showed him the difference +between _original_ and _deputed_ power, the distance between the +subject and his sovereign. Roused from the intoxication of his own +greatness by this sudden reverse of fortune, he compared the authority +which he had possessed with that which had deprived him of it; and his +ambition marked the steps which it had yet to surmount upon the ladder +of fortune. From the moment when he had so bitterly experienced the +weight of sovereign power, his efforts were directed to attain it for +himself; the wrong which he himself had suffered made him a robber. +Had he not been outraged by injustice, he might have obediently moved +in his orbit round the majesty of the throne, satisfied with the glory +of being the brightest of its satellites. It was only when violently +forced from its sphere, that his wandering star threw in disorder the +system to which it belonged, and came in destructive collision with +its sun. + +Gustavus Adolphus had overrun the north of Germany; one place after +another was lost; and at Leipzic the flower of the Austrian army had +fallen. The intelligence of this defeat soon reached the ears of +Wallenstein, who, in the retired obscurity of a private station in +Prague, contemplated from a calm distance the tumult of war. The news, +which filled the breasts of the Roman Catholics with dismay, announced +to him the return of greatness and good fortune. For him was Gustavus +Adolphus laboring. Scarcely had the king begun to gain reputation by +his exploits, when Wallenstein lost not a moment to court his +friendship and to make common cause with this successful enemy of +Austria. The banished Count Thurn, who had long entered the service +of Sweden, undertook to convey Wallenstein's congratulations to the +king, and to invite him to a close alliance with the duke. Wallenstein +required 15,000 men from the king; and with these, and the troops he +himself engaged to raise, he undertook to conquer Bohemia and Moravia, +to surprise Vienna, and drive his master, the Emperor, before him into +Italy. Welcome as was this unexpected proposition, its extravagant +promises were naturally calculated to excite suspicion. Gustavus +Adolphus was too good a judge of merit to reject with coldness the +offers of one who might be so important a friend. But when +Wallenstein, encouraged by the favorable reception of his first +message, renewed it after the battle of Breitenfeld, and pressed for a +decisive answer, the prudent monarch hesitated to trust his reputation +to the chimerical projects of so daring an adventurer and to commit so +large a force to the honesty of a man who felt no shame in openly +avowing himself a traitor. He excused himself, therefore, on the plea +of the weakness of his army which, if diminished by so large a +detachment, would certainly suffer in its march through the empire; +and thus, perhaps, by excess of caution, lost an opportunity of +putting an immediate end to the war. He afterward endeavored to renew +the negotiation; but the favorable moment was past, and Wallenstein's +offended pride never forgave the first neglect. + +But the king's hesitation, perhaps, only accelerated the breach, which +their characters made inevitable sooner or later. Both framed by +nature to give laws, not to receive them, they could not long have +coperated in an enterprise which eminently demanded mutual submission +and sacrifice. Wallenstein was _nothing_ where he was not +_everything_; he must either act with unlimited power, or not at +all. So cordially, too, did Gustavus dislike control that he had +almost renounced his advantageous alliance with France, because it +threatened to fetter his own independent judgment. Wallenstein was +lost to a party, if he could not lead; the latter was, if possible, +still less disposed to obey the instructions of another. If the +pretensions of a rival would be so irksome to the Duke of Friedland, +in the conduct of combined operations, in the division of the spoil +they would be insupportable. The proud monarch might condescend to +accept the assistance of a rebellious subject against the Emperor, and +to reward his valuable services with regal munificence; but he never +could so far lose sight of his own dignity, and the majesty of +royalty, as to bestow the recompense which the extravagant ambition of +Wallenstein demanded, and requite an act of treason, however useful, +with a crown. In him, therefore, even if all Europe should tacitly +acquiesce, Wallenstein had reason to expect the most decided and +formidable opponent to his views on the Bohemian crown; and in all +Europe he was the only one who could enforce his opposition. +Constituted Dictator in Germany by Wallenstein himself, he might turn +his arms against him, and consider himself bound by no obligations to +one who was himself a traitor. There was no room for a Wallenstein +under such an ally; and it was, apparently, this conviction, and not +any supposed designs upon the imperial throne, that he alluded to, +when, after the death of the King of Sweden, he exclaimed, "It is well +for him and me that he is gone! The German Empire does not require two +such leaders." + +His first scheme of revenge on the house of Austria had indeed failed; +but the purpose itself remained unalterable; the choice of means alone +was changed. What he had failed in effecting with the King of Sweden, +he hoped to obtain with less difficulty and more advantage from the +Elector of Saxony. Him he was as certain of being able to bend to his +views as he had always been doubtful of Gustavus Adolphus. Having +always maintained a good understanding with his old friend Arnheim, he +now made use of him to bring about an alliance with Saxony, by which +he hoped to render himself equally formidable to the Emperor and the +King of Sweden. He had reason to expect that a scheme, which, if +successful, would deprive the Swedish monarch of his influence in +Germany, would be welcomed by the Elector of Saxony, who he knew was +jealous of the power and offended at the lofty pretensions of Gustavus +Adolphus. If he succeeded in separating Saxony from the Swedish +alliance and in establishing, conjointly with that power, a third +party in the Empire, the fate of the war would be placed in his hand; +and by this single step he would succeed in gratifying his revenge +against the Emperor, revenging the neglect of the Swedish monarch, and +on the ruin of both raising the edifice of his own greatness. + +But whatever course he might follow in the prosecution of his designs, +he could not carry them into effect without an army entirely devoted +to him. Such a force could not be secretly raised without its coming +to the knowledge of the imperial court, where it would naturally +excite suspicion and thus frustrate his design in the very outset. +From the army, too, the rebellious purposes for which it was destined +must be concealed till the very moment of execution, since it could +scarcely be expected that they would at once be prepared to listen to +the voice of a traitor and serve against their legitimate sovereign. +Wallenstein, therefore, must raise it publicly and in the name of the +Emperor, and be placed at its head, with unlimited authority, by the +Emperor himself. But how could this be accomplished otherwise than by +his being appointed to the command of the army and intrusted with full +powers to conduct the war? Yet neither his pride nor his interest +permitted him to sue in person for this post and as a suppliant to +accept from the favor of the Emperor a limited power, when an +unlimited authority might be extorted from his fears. In order to make +himself the master of the terms on which he would resume the command +of the army, his course was to wait until the post should be forced +upon him. This was the advice he received from Arnheim, and this the +end for which he labored with profound policy and restless activity. + +Convinced that extreme necessity would alone conquer the Emperor's +irresolution and render powerless the opposition of his bitter +enemies, Bavaria and Spain, he henceforth occupied himself in +promoting the success of the enemy and in increasing the +embarrassments of his master. It was apparently by his instigation and +advice that the Saxons, when on the route to Lusatia and Silesia, had +turned their march toward Bohemia and overrun that defenceless +kingdom, where their rapid conquests were partly the result of his +measures. By the fears which he affected to entertain he paralyzed +every effort at resistance; and his precipitate retreat caused the +delivery of the capital to the enemy. At a conference with the Saxon +general, which was held at Kaunitz under the pretext of negotiating +for a peace, the seal was put to the conspiracy, and the conquest of +Bohemia was the first fruits of this mutual understanding. While +Wallenstein was thus personally endeavoring to heighten the +perplexities of Austria, and while the rapid movements of the Swedes +upon the Rhine effectually promoted his designs, his friends and +bribed adherents in Vienna uttered loud complaints of the public +calamities and represented the dismissal of the general as the sole +cause of all these misfortunes. "Had Wallenstein commanded, matters +would never have come to this," exclaimed a thousand voices; while +their opinions found supporters, even in the Emperor's privy council. + +Their repeated remonstrances were not needed to convince the +embarrassed Emperor of his general's merits and of his own error. His +dependence on Bavaria and the League had soon become insupportable; +but hitherto this dependence permitted him not to show his distrust, +or irritate the Elector by the recall of Wallenstein. But now when his +necessities grew every day more pressing, and the weakness of Bavaria +more apparent, he could no longer hesitate to listen to friends of the +duke, and to consider their overtures for his restoration to command. +The immense riches Wallenstein possessed, the universal reputation he +enjoyed, the rapidity with which six years before he had assembled an +army of 40,000 men, the little expense at which he had maintained this +formidable force, the actions he had performed at its head, and +lastly, the zeal and fidelity he had displayed for his master's honor, +still lived in the Emperor's recollection and made Wallenstein seem to +him the ablest instrument to restore the balance between the +belligerent powers, to save Austria, and preserve the Catholic +religion. However sensibly the imperial pride might feel the +humiliation, in being forced to make so unequivocal an admission of +past errors and present necessity; however painful it was to descend +to humble entreaties, from the height of imperial command; however +doubtful the fidelity of so deeply injured and implacable a character; +however loudly and urgently the Spanish minister and the Elector of +Bavaria protested against this step, the immediate pressure of +necessity finally overcame every other consideration, and the friends +of the duke were empowered to consult him on the subject and to hold +out the prospect of his restoration. + +Informed of all that was transacted in the Emperor's cabinet to his +advantage, Wallenstein possessed sufficient self-command to conceal +his inward triumph and to assume the mask of indifference. The moment +of vengeance was at last come, and his proud heart exulted in the +prospect of repaying with interest the injuries of the Emperor. With +artful eloquence, he expatiated upon the happy tranquillity of a +private station, which had blessed him since his retirement from a +political stage. Too long, he said, had he tasted the pleasures of +ease and independence, to sacrifice to the vain phantom of glory the +uncertain favor of princes. All his desire of power and distinction +were extinct: tranquillity and repose were now the sole object of his +wishes. The better to conceal his real impatience, he declined the +Emperor's invitation to the court, but at the same time, to facilitate +the negotiations, came to Znaim in Moravia. + +At first, it was proposed to limit the authority to be intrusted to +him, by the presence of a superior, in order, by this expedient, to +silence the objections of the Elector of Bavaria. The imperial +deputies, Questenberg and Werdenberg, who, as old friends of the duke, +had been employed in this delicate mission, were instructed to propose +that the King of Hungary should remain with the army and learn the art +of war under Wallenstein. But the very mention of his name threatened +to put a period to the whole negotiation. "No! never," exclaimed +Wallenstein, "will I submit to a colleague in my office. No--not even +if it were God himself with whom I should have to share my command." +But even when this obnoxious point was given up, Prince Eggenberg, the +Emperor's minister and favorite, who had always been the steady friend +and zealous champion of Wallenstein and was therefore expressly sent +to him, exhausted his eloquence in vain to overcome the pretended +reluctance of the duke. "The Emperor," he admitted, "had, in +Wallenstein, thrown away the most costly jewel in his crown: but +unwillingly and compulsorily only had he taken this step, which he had +since deeply repented of; while his esteem for the duke had remained +unaltered, his favor for him undiminished. Of these sentiments he now +gave the most decisive proof, by reposing unlimited confidence in his +fidelity and capacity to repair the mistakes of his predecessors and +to change the whole aspect of affairs. It would be great and noble to +sacrifice his just indignation to the good of his country; dignified +and worthy of him to refute the evil calumny of his enemies by the +double warmth of his zeal. This victory over himself," concluded the +prince, "would crown his other unparalleled services to the Empire and +render him the greatest man of his age." + +These humiliating confessions and flattering assurances seemed at last +to disarm the anger of the duke; but not before he had disburdened his +heart of his reproaches against the Emperor, pompously dwelt upon his +own services, and humbled to the utmost the monarch who solicited his +assistance, did he condescend to listen to the attractive proposals of +the minister. As if he yielded entirely to the force of their +arguments, he condescended with a haughty reluctance to that which was +the most ardent wish of his heart and deigned to favor the ambassadors +with a ray of hope. But far from putting an end to the Emperor's +embarrassments, by giving at once a full and unconditional consent, he +only acceded to a part of his demands, that he might exalt the value +of that which still remained, and was of most importance. He accepted +the command, but only for three months; merely for the purpose of +raising, but not of leading, an army. He wished only to show his power +and ability in its organization, and to display before the eyes of the +Emperor the greatness of that assistance which he still retained in +his hands. Convinced that an army raised by his name alone would, if +deprived of its creator, soon sink again into nothing, he intended it +to serve only as a decoy to draw more important concessions from his +master. And yet Ferdinand congratulated himself, even in having gained +so much as he had. + +Wallenstein did not long delay to fulfil those promises which all +Germany regarded as chimerical, and which Gustavus Adolphus had +considered as extravagant. But the foundation for the present +enterprise had long been laid, and he only put in motion the machinery +which for many years had been prepared for the purpose. Scarcely had +the news spread of Wallenstein's levies, when, from every quarter of +the Austrian monarchy, crowds of soldiers repaired to try their +fortunes under this experienced general. Many, who had before fought +under his standards, had been admiring eye-witnesses of his great +actions and experienced his magnanimity, came forward from their +retirement to share with him a second time both booty and glory. The +greatness of the pay he promised attracted thousands, and the +plentiful supplies the soldier was likely to enjoy at the cost of the +peasant was to the latter an irresistible inducement to embrace the +military life at once, rather than be the victim of its oppression. +All the Austrian provinces were compelled to assist in the equipment. +No class was exempt from taxation--no dignity or privilege from +capitation. The Spanish court, as well as the King of Hungary, agreed +to contribute a considerable sum. The ministers made large presents, +while Wallenstein himself advanced $200,000 from his personal income +to hasten the armament. The poorer officers he supported out of his +own revenues; and, by his own example, by brilliant promotions and +still more brilliant promises, he induced all, who were able, to raise +troops at their own expense. Whoever raised a corps at his own cost +was to be its commander. In the appointment of officers, religion made +no difference. Riches, bravery, and experience were more regarded than +creed. By this uniform treatment of different religious sects, and +still more by his express declaration that his present levy had +nothing to do with religion, the Protestant subjects of the Empire +were tranquilized and reconciled to bear their share of the public +burdens. The duke, at the same time, did not omit to treat, in his own +name, with foreign states for men and money. He prevailed on the Duke +of Lorraine, a second time, to espouse the cause of the Emperor. +Poland was urged to supply him with Cossacks, and Italy with warlike +necessaries. Before the three months were expired, the army which was +assembled in Moravia, amounted to no less than 40,000 men, chiefly +drawn from the unconquered parts of Bohemia, from Moravia, Silesia, +and the German provinces of the House of Austria. What to every one +had appeared impracticable, Wallenstein, to the astonishment of all +Europe, had in a short time effected. The charm of his name, his +treasures, and his genius, had assembled thousands in arms, where +before Austria had only looked for hundreds. Furnished, even to +superfluity, with all necessaries, commanded by experienced officers, +and inflamed by enthusiasm which assured itself of victory, this newly +created army only awaited the signal of their leader to show +themselves, by the bravery of their deeds, worthy of his choice. The +duke had fulfilled his promise, and the troops were ready to take the +field; he then retired and left to the Emperor to choose a commander. +But it would have been as easy to raise a second army like the first +as to find any other commander for it than Wallenstein. This promising +army, the last hope of the Emperor, was nothing but an illusion, as +soon as the charm was dissolved which had called it into existence; by +Wallenstein it had been raised, and, without him, it sank like a +creation of magic into its original nothingness. Its officers were +either bound to him as his debtors, or, as his creditors, closely +connected with his interests and the preservation of his power. The +regiments he had intrusted to his own relations, creatures, and +favorites. He, and he alone, could discharge to the troops the +extravagant promises by which they had been lured into his service. +His pledged word was the only security on which their bold +expectations rested; a blind reliance on his omnipotence, the only tie +which linked together in one common life and soul the various impulses +of their zeal. There was an end of the good fortune of each +individual, if he retired who alone was the voucher of its fulfilment. + +However little Wallenstein was serious in his refusal, he successfully +employed this means to terrify the Emperor into consenting to his +extravagant conditions. The progress of the enemy every day increased +the pressure of the Emperor's difficulties, while the remedy was also +close at hand; a word from him might terminate the general +embarrassment. Prince Eggenberg at length received orders, for the +third and last time, at any cost and sacrifice, to induce his friend, +Wallenstein, to accept the command. + +He found him at Znaim in Moravia, pompously surrounded by the troops, +the possession of which he made the Emperor so earnestly to long for. +As a suppliant did the haughty subject receive the deputy of his +sovereign. "He never could trust," he said, "to a restoration to +command, which he owned to the Emperor's necessities and not to his +sense of justice. He was now courted, because the danger had reached +its height and safety was hoped for from his arm only; but his +successful services would soon cause the servant to be forgotten, and +the return of security would bring back renewed ingratitude. If he +deceived the expectations formed of him, his long earned renown would +be forfeited; even if he fulfilled them, his repose and happiness must +be sacrificed. Soon would envy be excited anew, and the dependent +monarch would not hesitate, a second time, to make an offering of +convenience to a servant whom he could now dispense with. Better for +him at once, and voluntarily, to resign a post from which sooner or +later the intrigues of his enemies would expel him. Security and +content were to be found in the bosom of private life; and nothing but +the wish to oblige the Emperor had induced him, reluctantly enough, to +relinquish for a time his blissful repose." + +Tired of this long farce, the minister at last assumed a serious tone +and threatened the obstinate duke with the Emperor's resentment if he +persisted in his refusal. "Low enough had the imperial dignity," he +added, "stooped already; and yet, instead of exciting his magnanimity +by its condescension, it had only flattered his pride and increased +his obstinacy. If this sacrifice had been made in vain, he would not +answer, but only that the suppliant might be converted into the +sovereign and the monarch might not avenge his injured dignity on his +rebellious subject. However greatly Ferdinand may have erred, the +Emperor at least had a claim to obedience; the man might be mistaken, +but the monarch could not confess his error. If the Duke of Friedland +had suffered by an unjust decree, he might yet be recompensed for all +his losses; the wound which it had itself inflicted, the hand of +Majesty might heal. If he asked security for his person and his +dignities, the Emperor's equity would refuse him no reasonable demand. +Majesty contemned, admitted not of any atonement; disobedience to its +commands cancelled the most brilliant services. The Emperor required +his services, and as Emperor he demanded them. Whatever price +Wallenstein might set upon them, the Emperor would readily agree to; +but he demanded obedience, or the weight of his indignation should +crush the refractory servant." + +Wallenstein, whose extensive possessions within the Austrian monarchy +were momentarily exposed to the power of the Emperor, was keenly +sensible that this was no idle threat; yet it was not fear that at +last overcame his affected reluctance. This imperious tone was of +itself, to his mind, a plain proof of the weakness and despair which +dictated it, while the Emperor's readiness to yield all his demands +convinced him that he had attained the summit of his wishes. He now +made a show of yielding to the persuasions of Eggenberg; and left him, +in order to write down the conditions on which he accepted the +command. + +Not without apprehension, did the minister receive the writing in +which the proudest of subjects had prescribed laws to the proudest of +sovereigns. But however little confidence he had in the moderation of +his friend, the extravagant contents of his writing surpassed even his +worst expectations. Wallenstein required the uncontrolled command over +all the German armies of Austria and Spain, with unlimited powers to +reward and punish. Neither the King of Hungary, nor the Emperor +himself, were to appear in the army, still less to exercise any act of +authority over it. No commission in the army, no pension or letter of +grace, was to be granted by the Emperor without Wallenstein's +approval. All the conquests and confiscations that should take place +were to be placed entirely at Wallenstein's disposal, to the exclusion +of every other tribunal. For his ordinary pay, an imperial hereditary +estate was to be assigned him, with another of the conquered estates +within the Empire for his extraordinary expenses. Every Austrian +province was to be opened to him if he required it in case of +retreat. He further demanded the assurance of the possession of the +Duchy of Mecklenburg, in the event of a future peace; and a formal and +timely intimation, if it should be deemed necessary a second time to +deprive him of the command. + +In vain the minister entreated him to moderate his demands, which, if +granted, would deprive the Emperor of all authority over his own +troops and make him absolutely dependent on his general. The value +placed on his services had been too plainly manifested to prevent him +dictating the price at which they were to be purchased. If the +pressure of circumstances compelled the Emperor to grant these +demands, it was more than a mere feeling of haughtiness and desire of +revenge which induced the duke to make them. His plans of rebellion +were formed, to their success; every one of the conditions for which +Wallenstein stipulated in this treaty with the court was +indispensable. Those plans required that the Emperor should be +deprived of all authority in Germany and be placed at the mercy of his +general; and this object would be attained the moment Ferdinand +subscribed to the required conditions. The use which Wallenstein +intended to make of his army (widely different indeed from that for +which it was intrusted to him) brooked not of a divided power and +still less of an authority superior to his own. To be the sole master +of the will of his troops, he must also be the sole master of their +destinies; insensibly to supplant his sovereign and to transfer +permanently to his own person the rights of sovereignty, which were +only lent to him for a time by a higher authority, he must cautiously +keep the latter out of the view of the army. Hence his obstinate +refusal to allow any prince of the house of Austria to be present with +the army. The liberty of free disposal of all the conquered and +confiscated estates in the Empire would also afford him fearful means +of purchasing dependents and instruments of his plans, and of acting +the dictator in Germany more absolutely than ever any Emperor did in +time of peace. By the right to use any of the Austrian provinces as a +place of refuge, in case of need, he had full power to hold the +Emperor a prisoner by means of his own forces and within his own +dominions, to exhaust the strength and resources of these countries, +and to undermine the power of Austria in its very foundation. + +Whatever might be the issue, he had equally secured his own advantage +by the conditions he had extorted from the Emperor. If circumstances +proved favorable to his daring project, this treaty with the Emperor +facilitated its execution; if, on the contrary, the course of things +ran counter to it, it would at least afford him a brilliant +compensation for the failure of his plans. But how could he consider +an agreement valid which was extorted from his sovereign and based +upon treason? How could he hope to bind the Emperor by a written +agreement, in the face of a law which condemned to death every one who +should have the presumption to impose conditions upon him? But this +criminal was the most indispensable man in the Empire, and Ferdinand, +well practised in dissimulation, granted him for the present all he +required. + +At last, then, the imperial army had found a commander-in-chief worthy +of the name. Every other authority in the army, even that of the +Emperor himself, ceased from the moment Wallenstein assumed the +commander's baton, and every act was invalid which did not proceed +from him. From the banks of the Danube, to those of the Weser and the +Oder, was felt the life-giving dawning of this new star; a new spirit +seemed to inspire the troops of the Emperor, a new epoch of the war +began. The Papists form fresh hopes, the Protestant beholds with +anxiety the changed course of affairs. + +The greater the price at which the services of the new general had +been purchased, the greater justly were the expectations from those +which the court of the Emperor entertained. But the duke was in no +hurry to fulfil these expectations. Already in the vicinity of +Bohemia and at the head of a formidable force, he had but to show +himself there in order to overpower the exhausted forces of the Saxons +and brilliantly to commence his new career by the reconquest of that +kingdom. But, contented with harassing the enemy with indecisive +skirmishes of his Croats, he abandoned the best part of that kingdom +to be plundered, and moved calmly forward in pursuit of his own +selfish plans. His design was, not to conquer the Saxons, but to unite +with them. Exclusively occupied with this important object, he +remained inactive in the hope of conquering more surely by means of +negotiation. He left no expedient untried, to detach this prince from +the Swedish alliance; and Ferdinand himself, ever inclined to an +accommodation with this prince, approved of this proceeding. But the +great debt which Saxony owed to Sweden was as yet too freshly +remembered to allow of such an act of perfidy; and even had the +Elector been disposed to yield to the temptation, the equivocal +character of Wallenstein and the bad character of Austrian policy +precluded any reliance in the integrity of its promises. Notorious +already as a treacherous statesman, he acted faithlessly upon the very +occasion when perhaps he intended to act honestly; and, moreover, was +denied, by circumstances, the opportunity of proving the sincerity of +his intentions, by the disclosure of his real motives. + +He, therefore, unwillingly resolved to extort, by force of arms, what +he could not obtain by negotiation. Suddenly assembling his troops, he +appeared before Prague ere the Saxons had time to advance to its +relief. After a short resistance, the treachery of some Capuchins +opened the gates to one of his regiments; and the garrison, who had +taken refuge in the citadel, soon laid down their arms upon +disgraceful conditions. Master of the capital, he hoped to carry on +more successfully his negotiations at the Saxon court; but even while +he was renewing his proposals to Arnheim, he did not hesitate to give +them weight by striking a decisive blow. He hastened to seize the +narrow passes between Aussig and Pirna, with a view of cutting off +the retreat of the Saxons into their own country; but the rapidity of +Arnheim's operations fortunately extricated them from the danger. +After the retreat of this general, Egra and Leutmeritz, the last +strongholds of the Saxons, surrendered to the conqueror: and the whole +kingdom was restored to its legitimate sovereign, in less time than it +had been lost. + +Wallenstein, less occupied with the interests of his master than with +the furtherance of his own plans, now purposed to carry the war into +Saxony, and by ravaging his territories, compel the Elector to enter +into a private treaty with the Emperor, or rather with himself. But +however little accustomed he was to make his will bend to +circumstances, he now perceived the necessity of postponing his +favorite scheme, for a time, to a more pressing emergency. While he +was driving the Saxons from Bohemia, Gustavus Adolphus had been +gaining the victories, already detailed, on the Rhine and the Danube, +and carried the war through Franconia and Swabia to the frontiers of +Bavaria. Maximilian, defeated on the Lech and deprived by death of +Count Tilly, his best support, urgently solicited the Emperor to send +with all speed the Duke of Friedland to his assistance from Bohemia, +and, by the defence of Bavaria, to avert the danger from Austria +itself. He also made the same request to Wallenstein, and entreated +him, till he could himself come with the main force, to dispatch in +the meantime a few regiments to his aid. Ferdinand seconded the +request with all his influence, and one messenger after another was +sent to Wallenstein, urging him to move toward the Danube. + +It now appeared how completely the Emperor had sacrificed his +authority in surrendering to another the supreme command of his +troops. Indifferent to Maximilian's entreaties, and deaf to the +Emperor's repeated commands, Wallenstein remained inactive in Bohemia +and abandoned the Elector to his fate. The remembrance of the evil +service which Maximilian had rendered him with the Emperor, at the +Diet at Ratisbon, was deeply engraved on the implacable mind of the +duke, and the Elector's late attempts to prevent his reinstatement +were no secret to him. The moment of revenging this affront had now +arrived, and Maximilian was doomed to pay dearly for his folly in +provoking the most revengeful of men. Wallenstein maintained that +Bohemia ought not to be left exposed, and that Austria could not be +better protected than by allowing the Swedish army to waste its +strength before the Bavarian fortress. Thus, by the arm of the Swedes, +he chastised his enemy; and, while one place after another fell into +their hands, he allowed the Elector vainly to await his arrival in +Ratisbon. It was only when the complete subjugation of Bohemia left +him without excuse and the conquests of Gustavus Adolphus in Bavaria +threatened Austria itself, that he yielded to the pressing entreaties +of the Elector and the Emperor and determined to effect the +long-expected union with the former; an event, which, according to the +general anticipation of the Roman Catholics, would decide the fate of +the campaign. + +Gustavus Adolphus, too weak in numbers to cope even with Wallenstein's +force alone, naturally dreaded the junction of such powerful armies, +and the little energy he used to prevent it was the occasion of great +surprise. Apparently he reckoned too much on the hatred which +alienated the leaders and seemed to render their effectual coperation +improbable; when the event contradicted his views, it was too late to +repair his error. On the first certain intelligence he received of +their designs, he hastened to the Upper Palatinate for the purpose of +intercepting the Elector: but the latter had already arrived there and +the junction had been effected at Egra. + +This frontier town had been chosen by Wallenstein for the scene of his +triumph over his proud rival. Not content with having seen him, as it +were, a suppliant at his feet, he imposed upon him the hard condition +of leaving his territories in his rear exposed to the enemy, and +declaring by this long march to meet him the necessity and distress +to which he was reduced. Even to this humiliation the haughty prince +patiently submitted. It had cost him a severe struggle to ask for +protection of the man who, if his own wishes had been consulted, would +never have had the power of granting it: but having once made up his +mind to it, he was ready to bear all the annoyances which were +inseparable from that resolve and sufficiently master of himself to +put up with petty grievances when an important end was in view. + +But whatever pains it had cost to effect this junction, it was equally +difficult to settle the conditions on which it was to be maintained. +The united army must be placed under the command of one individual, if +any object was to be gained by the union, and each general was equally +averse to yield to the superior authority of the other. If Maximilian +rested his claim on his electoral dignity, the nobleness of his +descent, and his influence in the empire, Wallenstein's military +renown, and the unlimited command conferred on him by the Emperor, +gave an equally strong title to it. If it was deeply humiliating to +the pride of the former to serve under an imperial subject, the idea +of imposing laws on so imperious a spirit flattered in the same degree +the haughtiness of Wallenstein. An obstinate dispute ensued, which, +however, terminated in a mutual compromise to Wallenstein's advantage. +To him was assigned the unlimited command of both armies, particularly +in battle, while the Elector was deprived of all power of altering the +order of battle, or even the route of the army. He retained only the +bare right of punishing and rewarding his own troops and the free use +of these when not acting in conjunction with the Imperialists. + +After these preliminaries were settled, the two generals at last +ventured upon an interview; but not until they had mutually promised +to bury the past in oblivion, and all the outward formalities of a +reconciliation had been settled. According to agreement, they +publicly embraced in the sight of their troops, and made mutual +professions of friendship, while in reality the hearts of both were +overflowing with malice. Maximilian, well versed in dissimulation, had +sufficient command over himself not to betray in a single feature his +real feelings; but a malicious triumph sparkled in the eyes of +Wallenstein, and the constraint which was visible in all his movements +betrayed the violence of the emotion which overpowered his proud soul. + +The combined Imperial and Bavarian armies amounted to nearly 60,000 +men, chiefly veterans. Before this force the King of Sweden was not in +a condition to keep the field. As his attempt to prevent their +junction had failed, he commenced a rapid retreat into Franconia and +waited there for some decisive movement on the part of the enemy, in +order to form his own plans. The position of the combined armies +between the frontiers of Saxony and Bavaria left it for some time +doubtful whether they would remove the war into the former, or +endeavor to drive the Swedes from the Danube and deliver Bavaria. +Saxony had been stripped of troops by Arnheim, who was pursuing his +conquests in Silesia; not without a secret design, it was generally +supposed, of favoring the entrance of the Duke of Friedland into that +electorate and of thus driving the irresolute John George into peace +with the Emperor. Gustavus Adolphus himself, fully persuaded that +Wallenstein's views were directed against Saxony, hastily dispatched a +strong reinforcement to the assistance of his confederate, with the +intention, as soon as circumstances would allow, of following with the +main body. But the movements of Wallenstein's army soon led him to +suspect that he himself was the object of attack; and the Duke's march +through the Upper Palatinate placed the matter beyond a doubt. The +question now was, how to provide for his own security, and the prize +was no longer his supremacy but his very existence. His fertile genius +must now supply the means, not of conquest, but of preservation. The +approach of the enemy had surprised him before he had time to +concentrate his troops, which were scattered all over Germany, or to +summon his allies to his aid. Too weak to meet the enemy in the field, +he had no choice left but either to throw himself into Nuremberg and +run the risk of being shut up in its walls, or to sacrifice that city +and await a reinforcement under the cannon of Donauwerth. Indifferent +to danger or difficulty, while he obeyed the call of humanity or +honor, he chose the first without hesitation, firmly resolved to bury +himself with his whole army under the ruins of Nuremberg rather than +to purchase his own safety by the sacrifice of his confederates. + +Measures were immediately taken to surround the city and suburbs with +redoubts and to form an intrenched camp. Several thousand workmen +immediately commenced this extensive work, and an heroic determination +to hazard life and property in the common cause animated the +inhabitants of Nuremberg. A trench, eight feet deep and twelve broad, +surrounded the whole fortification; the lines were defended by +redoubts and batteries, the gates by half moons. The river Pegnitz, +which flows through Nuremberg, divided the whole camp into two +semicircles whose communication was secured by several bridges. About +three hundred pieces of cannon defended the town-walls and the +intrenchments. The peasantry from the neighboring villages, and the +inhabitants of Nuremberg, assisted the Swedish soldiers so zealously +that on the seventh day the army was able to enter the camp, and, in a +fortnight, this great work was completed. + +While these operations were carried on without the walls, the +magistrates of Nuremberg were busily occupied in filling the magazines +with provisions and ammunition for a long siege. Measures were taken, +at the same time, to secure the health of the inhabitants, which was +likely to be endangered by the conflux of so many people; cleanliness +was enforced by the strictest regulations. In order, if necessary, to +support the King, the youth of the city were enlisted and trained to +arms, the militia of the town considerably reinforced, and a new +regiment raised, consisting of four-and-twenty names, according to the +letters of the alphabet. Gustavus had, in the meantime, called to his +assistance his allies, Duke William of Weimar, and the Landgrave of +Hesse Cassel; and ordered his generals on the Rhine, in Thuringia and +Lower Saxony, to commence their march immediately and join him with +their troops in Nuremberg. His army, which was encamped within the +lines, did not amount to more than 16,000 men, scarcely a third of the +enemy. + +The Imperialists had, in the meantime, by slow marches, advanced to +Neumark, where Wallenstein made a general review. At the sight of this +formidable force, he could not refrain from indulging in a childish +boast: "In four days," said he, "it will be shown whether I or the +King of Sweden is to be master of the world." Yet, notwithstanding his +superiority, he did nothing to fulfil his promise; and even let slip +the opportunity of crushing his enemy when the latter had the +hardihood to leave his lines to meet him. "Battles enough have been +fought," was his answer to those who advised him to attack the King; +"it is now time to try another method." Wallenstein's well-founded +reputation required not any of those rash enterprises on which younger +soldiers rush, in the hope of gaining a name. Satisfied that the +enemy's despair would dearly sell a victory, while a defeat would +irretrievably ruin the Emperor's affairs, he resolved to wear out the +ardor of his opponent by a tedious blockade, and, by thus depriving +him of every opportunity of availing himself of his impetuous bravery, +take from him the very advantage which had hitherto rendered him +invincible. Without making any attack, therefore, he erected a strong +fortified camp on the other side of the Pegnitz, and opposite +Nuremberg; and, by this well chosen position, cut off from the city +and the camp of Gustavus all supplies from Franconia, Swabia, and +Thuringia. Thus he held in siege at once the city and the King, and +flattered himself with the hope of slowly, but surely, wearing out by +famine and pestilence the courage of his opponent whom he had no wish +to encounter in the field. + +Little aware, however, of the resources and the strength of his +adversary, Wallenstein had not taken sufficient precautions to avert +from himself the fate he was designing for others. From the whole of +the neighboring country, the peasantry had fled with their property; +and what little provision remained must be obstinately contested with +the Swedes. The King spared the magazines within the town, as long as +it was possible to provision his army from without; and these forays +produced constant skirmishes between the Croats and the Swedish +cavalry, of which the surrounding country exhibited the most +melancholy traces. The necessaries of life must be obtained sword in +hand; and the foraging parties could not venture out without a +numerous escort. And when this supply failed the town opened its +magazines to the King, but Wallenstein had to support his troops from +a distance. A large convoy from Bavaria was on its way to him, with an +escort of a thousand men. Gustavus Adolphus having received +intelligence of its approach, immediately sent out a regiment of +cavalry to intercept it; and the darkness of the night favored the +enterprise. The whole convoy, with the town in which it was, fell into +the hands of the Swedes; the Imperial escort was broken up; about +1,200 cattle were carried off; and a thousand wagons, loaded with +bread, which could not be brought away, were set on fire. Seven +regiments, which Wallenstein had sent forward to Altdorp to cover the +entrance of the long and anxiously expected convoy, were attacked by +the King, who had, in like manner, advanced to cover the retreat of +his cavalry and routed after an obstinate action, being driven back +into the Imperial camp with the loss of 400 men. So many checks and +difficulties, and so firm and unexpected a resistance on the part of +the King, made the Duke of Friedland repent that he had declined to +hazard a battle. The strength of the Swedish camp rendered an attack +impracticable; and the armed youth of Nuremberg served the King as a +nursery from which he could supply his loss of troops. The want of +provisions, which began to be felt in the Imperial camp as strongly as +in the Swedish, rendered it uncertain which party would be first +compelled to give way. + +Fifteen days had the two armies now remained in view of each other, +equally defended by inaccessible intrenchments, without attempting +anything more than slight attacks and unimportant skirmishes. On both +sides, infectious diseases, the natural consequences of bad food and a +crowded population, had occasioned a greater loss than the sword. And +this evil daily increased. But at length the long expected succor +arrived in the Swedish camp; and by this strong reinforcement the King +was now enabled to obey the dictates of his native courage and to +break the chains which had hitherto fettered him. + +In obedience to his requisitions, the Duke of Weimar had hastily drawn +together a corps from the garrisons in Lower Saxony and Thuringia, +which, at Schweinfurt in Franconia, was joined by four Saxon +regiments, and at Kitzingen by the corps of the Rhine, which the +Landgrave of Hesse and the Palatine of Birkenfeld dispatched to the +relief of the King. The Chancellor, Oxenstiern, undertook to lead this +force to its destination. After being joined at Windsheim by the Duke +of Weimar himself and the Swedish General Banner, he advanced by rapid +marches to Bruck and Eltersdorf, where he passed the Rednitz and +reached the Swedish camp in safety. This reinforcement amounted to +nearly 50,000 men, and was attended by a train of 60 pieces of cannon +and 4,000 baggage wagons. Gustavus now saw himself at the head of an +army of nearly 70,000 strong, without reckoning the militia of +Nuremberg, which, in case of necessity, could bring into the field +about 30,000 fighting men; a formidable force, opposed to another not +less formidable. The war seemed at length compressed to the point of a +single battle, which was to decide its fearful issue. With divided +sympathies, Europe looked with anxiety upon this scene, where the +whole strength of the two contending parties was fearfully drawn, as +it were, to a focus. + +If, before the arrival of the Swedish succor, a want of provisions had +been felt, the evil was now fearfully increased to a dreadful height +in both camps, for Wallenstein had also received reinforcements from +Bavaria. Besides the 120,000 men confronting each other, and more than +50,000 horses, in the two armies, and besides the inhabitants of +Nuremberg, whose number far exceeded the Swedish army, there were in +the camp of Wallenstein about 15,000 women, with as many drivers, and +nearly the same number in that of the Swedes. The custom of the time +permitted the soldier to carry his family with him to the field; a +number of prostitutes followed the Imperialists; while, with the view +of preventing the excesses practised by the latter, Gustavus's care +for the morals of his soldiers encouraged marriages. For the rising +generation who had this camp for their home and country, regular +military schools were established, which educated a race of excellent +warriors by whom the army might recruit itself in the course of a long +campaign. No wonder, then, if these wandering nations exhausted every +territory in which they encamped, and by their immense consumption +raised the necessaries of life to an exorbitant price. All the mills +of Nuremberg were insufficient to grind the corn required for each +day; and 15,000 pounds of bread, which were daily delivered by the +town into the Swedish camp, excited, without allaying, the hunger of +the soldiers. The laudable exertions of the magistrates of Nuremberg +could not prevent the greater part of the horses from dying for want +of forage, while the increasing mortality in the camp consigned more +than a hundred men daily to the grave. + +To put an end to these distresses, Gustavus Adolphus, relying on his +numerical superiority, left his lines on the 25th day, forming before +the enemy in order of battle, while he cannonaded the duke's camp from +three batteries erected on the side of the Rednitz. But the duke +remained immovable in his intrenchments, and contented himself with +answering this challenge by a distant fire of cannon and musketry. His +plan was to wear out the king by his inactivity, and by the force of +famine to overcome his resolute determination; and neither the +remonstrances of Maximilian and the impatience of his army, nor the +ridicule of his opponent, could shake his purpose. Gustavus, deceived +in his hope of forcing a battle, and compelled by his increasing +necessities, now attempted impossibilities, and resolved to storm a +position which art and nature had combined to render impregnable. + +Intrusting his own camp to the militia of Nuremberg, on the +fifty-eighth day of his encampment (the festival of St. Bartholomew), +he advanced in full order of battle, and passing the Rednitz at Furth, +easily drove the enemy's outposts before him. The main army of the +Imperialists was posted on the steep heights between the Biber and the +Rednitz, called the Old Fortress and Altenberg; while the camp itself, +commanded by these eminences, spread out immeasurably along the plain. +On these heights the whole of the artillery was placed. Deep trenches +surrounded inaccessible redoubts, while thick barricades, with pointed +palisades, defended the approaches to the heights, from the summits of +which Wallenstein calmly and securely discharged the lightnings of his +artillery from amid the dark thunder-clouds of smoke. A destructive +fire of musketry was maintained behind the breastworks, and a hundred +pieces of cannon threatened the desperate assailant with certain +destruction. Against this dangerous post Gustavus now directed his +attack; five hundred musketeers, supported by a few infantry (for a +greater number could not act in the narrow space), enjoyed the +unenvied privilege of first throwing themselves into the open jaws of +death. The assault was furious, the resistance obstinate. Exposed to +the whole fire of the enemy's artillery, and infuriated by the +prospect of inevitable death, these determined warriors rushed forward +to storm the heights which, in an instant, converted into a flaming +volcano, discharged on them a shower of shot. At the same moment, the +heavy cavalry rushed forward into the openings which the artillery had +made in the close ranks of the assailants, and divided them; till the +intrepid band, conquered by the strength of nature and of man, took to +flight, leaving a hundred dead upon the field. To Germans had Gustavus +yielded this post of honor. Exasperated at their retreat, he now led +on his Finlanders to the attack, thinking, by their northern courage, +to shame the cowardice of the Germans. But they, also, after a similar +hot reception, yielded to the superiority of the enemy; and a third +regiment succeeded them to experience the same fate. This was replaced +by a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth; so that, during a ten hours' +action, every regiment was brought to the attack to retire with bloody +loss from the contest. A thousand mangled bodies covered the field; +yet Gustavus undauntedly maintained the attack, and Wallenstein held +his position unshaken. + +In the mean time, a sharp contest had taken place between the imperial +cavalry and the left wing of the Swedes which was posted in a thicket +on the Rednitz, with varying success but with equal intrepedity and +loss on both sides. The Duke of Friedland and Prince Bernard of Weimar +had each a horse shot under him; the king himself had the sole of his +boot carried off by a cannon ball. The combat was maintained with +undiminished obstinacy, till the approach of night separated the +combatants. But the Swedes had advanced too far to retreat without +hazard. While the king was seeking an officer to convey to the +regiments the order to retreat, he met Colonel Hepburn, a brave +Scotchman, whose native courage alone had drawn him from the camp to +share in the dangers of the day. Offended with the king for having, +not long before, preferred a younger officer for some post of danger, +he had rashly vowed never again to draw his sword for the king. To him +Gustavus now addressed himself, praising his courage and requesting +him to order the regiments to retreat. "Sire," replied the brave +soldier, "it is the only service I cannot refuse to your Majesty; for +it is a hazardous one"--and immediately hastened to carry the command. +One of the heights above the old fortress had, in the heat of the +action, been carried by the Duke of Weimar. It commanded the hills and +the whole camp. But the heavy rain which fell during the night +rendered it impossible to draw up the cannon; and this post, which had +been gained with so much bloodshed, was also voluntarily abandoned. +Diffident of fortune, which forsook him on this decisive day, the king +did not venture the following morning to renew the attack with his +exhausted troops; and vanquished for the first time, even because he +was not victor, he led back his troops over the Rednitz. Two thousand +dead which he left behind him on the field, testified to the extent of +his loss; and the Duke of Friedland remained unconquered within his +lines. + +For fourteen days after this action, the two armies still continued in +front of each other, each in the hope that the other would be the +first to give way. Every day reduced their provisions, and, as +scarcity became greater, the unbridled excesses of the furious +soldiers exercised the wildest outrages on the peasantry. The +increasing distress broke up all discipline and order in the Swedish +camp; and the German regiments, in particular, distinguished +themselves for the ravages they practised indiscriminately on friend +and foe. The weak hand of a single individual could not check +excesses, encouraged by the silence, if not the actual example, of the +inferior officers. These shameful breaches of discipline, on the +maintenance of which he had hitherto justly prided himself, severely +pained the king; and the vehemence with which he reproached the German +officers for their negligence, bespoke the liveliness of his emotion. +"It is you yourselves, Germans," said he, "that rob your native +country, and ruin your own confederates in the faith. As God is my +judge, I abhor you, I loathe you; my heart sinks within me whenever I +look upon you. Ye break my orders; ye are the cause that the world +curses me, that the tears of poverty follow me, that complaints ring +in my ear--'The King, our friend, does us more harm than even our +worst enemies.' On your account I have stripped my own kingdom of its +treasures, and spent upon you more than 40 tons of gold;[61] while +from your German empire I have not received the least aid. I gave you +a share of all that God had given to me; and had ye regarded my orders +I would have gladly shared with you all my future acquisitions. Your +want of discipline convinces me of your evil intentions, whatever +cause I might otherwise have to applaud your bravery." + +Nuremberg had exerted itself, almost beyond its power, to subsist for +eleven weeks the vast crowd which was compressed within its +boundaries; but its means were at length exhausted, and the king's +more numerous party was obliged to determine on a retreat. By the +casualties of war and sickness, Nuremberg had lost more than 10,000 of +its inhabitants, and Gustavus Adolphus nearly 20,000 of his soldiers. +The fields around the city were trampled down, the villages were in +ashes, the plundered peasantry lay faint and dying on the highways; +foul odors infected the air, and bad food, the exhalations from so +dense a population, and so many putrifying carcasses, together with +the heat of the dog-days, produced a desolating pestilence which raged +among men and beasts, and long after the retreat of both armies, +continued to load the country with misery and distress. Affected by +the general distress, and despairing of conquering the steady +determination of the Duke of Friedland, the king broke up his camp on +the 5th of September, leaving in Nuremberg a sufficient garrison. He +advanced in full order of battle before the enemy, who remained +motionless and did not attempt in the least to harass his retreat. His +route lay by the Aisch and Windsheim toward Neustadt, where he halted +five days to refresh his troops, and also to be near to Nuremberg in +case the enemy should make an attempt upon the town. But Wallenstein, +as exhausted as himself, had only awaited the retreat of the Swedes to +commence his own. Five days afterward he broke up his camp at Zirndorf +and set it on fire. A hundred columns of smoke, rising from all the +burning villages in the neighborhood, announced his retreat and showed +the city the fate it had escaped. His march, which was directed on +Forchheim, was marked by the most frightful ravages; but he was too +far advanced to be overtaken by the king. The latter now divided his +army, which the exhausted country was unable to support, and leaving +one division to protect Franconia, with the other he prosecuted in +person his conquests in Bavaria. In the mean time, the imperial +Bavarian army had marched into the Bishopric of Bamberg, where the +Duke of Friedland a second time mustered his troops. He found this +force, which so lately had amounted to 60,000 men, diminished by the +sword, desertion, and disease, to about 24,000, and of these a fourth +were Bavarians. Thus had the encampments before Nuremberg weakened +both parties more than two great battles would have done, apparently +without advancing the termination of the war, or satisfying, by any +decisive result, the expectations of Europe. The king's conquests in +Bavaria, were, it is true, checked for a time by this diversion before +Nuremberg, and Austria itself secured against the danger of immediate +invasion; but by the retreat of the king from that city, he was again +left at full liberty to make Bavaria the seat of war. Indifferent +toward the fate of that country, and weary of the restraint which his +union with the Elector imposed upon him, the Duke of Friedland eagerly +seized the opportunity of separating from this burdensome associate, +and prosecuting, with renewed earnestness, his favorite plans. Still +adhering to his purpose of detaching Saxony from its Swedish +alliance, he selected that country for his winter quarters, hoping by +his destructive presence to force the Elector the more readily into +his views. + +No conjuncture could be more favorable for his designs. The Saxons had +invaded Silesia, where, reinforced by troops from Brandenburg and +Sweden, they had gained several advantages over the Emperor's troops. +Silesia would be saved by a diversion against the Elector in his own +territories, and the attempt was the more easy as Saxony, left +undefended during the war in Silesia, lay open on every side to +attack. The pretext of rescuing from the enemy a hereditary dominion +of Austria would silence the remonstrances of the Elector of Bavaria, +and, under the mask of a patriotic zeal for the Emperor's interests, +Maximilian might be sacrificed without much difficulty. By giving up +the rich country of Bavaria to the Swedes, he hoped to be left +unmolested by them in his enterprise against Saxony, while the +increasing coldness between Gustavus and the Saxon Court gave him +little reason to apprehend any extraordinary zeal for the deliverance +of John George. Thus a second time abandoned by his artful protector, +the Elector separated from Wallenstein at Bamberg, to protect his +defenceless territory with the small remains of his troops, while the +imperial army, under Wallenstein, directed its march through Bayreuth +and Coburg toward the Thuringian Forest. + +An imperial general, Holk, had previously been sent into Vogtland with +6,000 men, to waste this defenceless province with fire and sword; he +was soon followed by Gallas, another of the Duke's generals, and an +equally faithful instrument of his inhuman orders. Finally, +Pappenheim, too, was recalled from Lower Saxony, to reinforce the +diminished army of the duke and to complete the miseries of the +devoted country. Ruined churches, villages in ashes, harvests wilfully +destroyed, families plundered, and murdered peasants, marked the +progress of these barbarians, under whose scourge the whole of +Thuringia, Vogtland, and Meissen, lay defenceless. Yet this was but +the prelude to greater sufferings with which Wallenstein himself, at +the head of the main army, threatened Saxony. After having left behind +him fearful monuments of his fury, in his march through Franconia and +Thuringia, he arrived with his whole army in the Circle of Leipzic, +and compelled the city, after a short resistance, to surrender. His +design was to push on to Dresden, and by the conquest of the whole +country to prescribe laws to the Elector. He had already approached +the Mulda, threatening to overpower the Saxon army which had advanced +as far as Torgau to meet him, when the King of Sweden's arrival at +Erfurt gave an unexpected check to his operations. Placed between the +Saxon and Swedish armies, which were likely to be further reinforced +by the troops of George, Duke of Lneburg, from Lower Saxony, he +hastily retired upon Meresberg, to form a junction there with Count +Pappenheim and to repel the further advance of the Swedes. + +Gustavus Adolphus had witnessed, with great uneasiness, the arts +employed by Spain and Austria to detach his allies from him. The more +important his alliance with Saxony, the more anxiety the inconstant +temper of John George caused him. Between himself and the Elector a +sincere friendship could never subsist. A prince, proud of his +political importance and accustomed to consider himself as the head of +his party, could not see without annoyance the interference of a +foreign power in the affairs of the Empire; and nothing but the +extreme danger of his dominions could overcome the aversion with which +he had long witnessed the progress of this unwelcome intruder. The +increasing influence of the king in Germany, his authority with the +Protestant states, the unambiguous proofs which he gave of his +ambitious views, which were of a character calculated to excite the +jealousies of all the states of the Empire, awakened in the Elector's +breast a thousand anxieties, which the imperial emissaries did not +fail skilfully to keep alive and cherish. Every arbitrary step on the +part of the King, every demand, however reasonable, which he +addressed to the princes of the Empire, was followed by bitter +complaints from the Elector, which seemed to announce an approaching +rupture. Even the generals of the two powers, whenever they were +called upon to act in common, manifested the same jealousy as divided +their leaders. John George's natural aversion to war, and a lingering +attachment to Austria, favored the efforts of Arnheim, who, +maintaining a constant correspondence with Wallenstein, labored +incessantly to effect a private treaty between his master and the +Emperor; and if his representatives were long disregarded, still the +event proved that they were not altogether without effect. + +Gustavus Adolphus, naturally apprehensive of the consequences which +the defection of so powerful an ally would produce on his future +prospects in Germany, spared no pains to avert so pernicious an event; +and his remonstrances had hitherto had some effect upon the Elector. +But the formidable power with which the Emperor seconded his seductive +proposals, and the miseries which, in the case of hesitation, he +threatened to accumulate upon Saxony, might at length overcome the +resolution of the Elector, should he be left exposed to the vengeance +of his enemies; while an indifference to the fate of so powerful a +confederate would irreparably destroy the confidence of the other +allies in their protector. This consideration induced the king a +second time to yield to the pressing entreaties of the Elector and to +sacrifice his own brilliant prospects to the safety of this ally. He +had already resolved upon a second attack on Ingoldstadt; and the +weakness of the Elector of Bavaria gave him hopes of soon forcing this +exhausted enemy to accede to a neutrality. An insurrection of the +peasantry in Upper Austria opened to him a passage into that country, +and the capital might be in his possession before Wallenstein could +have time to advance to its defence. All these views he now gave up +for the sake of an ally, who, neither by his services nor his fidelity +was worthy of the sacrifices; who, on the pressing occasions of +common good, had steadily adhered to his own selfish projects; and who +was important, not for the services he was expected to render, but +merely for the injuries he had it in his power to inflict. Is it +possible, then, to refrain from indignation, when we know that, in +this expedition, undertaken for the benefit of such an ally, the great +king was destined to terminate his career? + +Rapidly assembling his troops in Franconia, he followed the route of +Wallenstein through Thuringia. Duke Bernard of Weimar, who had been +dispatched to act against Pappenheim, joined the king at Armstadt, who +now saw himself at the head of 20,000 veterans. At Erfurt he took +leave of his queen, who was not to behold him save in his coffin at +Weissenfels. Their anxious adieus seemed to forbode an eternal +separation. He reached Naumburg on the 1st of November, 1632, before +the corps, which the Duke of Friedland had dispatched for that +purpose, could make itself master of that place. The inhabitants of +the surrounding country flocked in crowds to look upon the hero, the +avenger, the great king, who, a year before, had first appeared in +that quarter, like a guardian angel. Shouts of joy everywhere attended +his progress; the people knelt before him, and struggled for the honor +of touching the sheath of his sword or the hem of his garment. The +modest hero disliked this innocent tribute which a sincerely grateful +and admiring multitude paid him. "Is it not," said he, "as if this +people would make a God of me? Our affairs prosper, indeed; but I fear +the vengeance of Heaven will punish me for this presumption, and soon +enough reveal to this deluded multitude my human weakness and +mortality!" How amiable does Gustavus appear before us at this moment, +when about to leave us forever! Even in the plentitude of success, he +honors an avenging Nemesis, declines that homage which is due only to +the Immortal, and strengthens his title to our tears, the nearer the +moment approaches that is to call them forth! In the mean time, the +Duke of Friedland had determined to advance to meet the king, as far +as Weissenfels, and, even at the hazard of a battle, to secure his +winter-quarters in Saxony. His inactivity before Nuremberg had +occasioned a suspicion that he was unwilling to measure his powers +with those of the Hero of the North, and his hard-earned reputation +would be at stake, if, a second time, he should decline a battle. His +present superiority in numbers, though much less than what it was at +the beginning of the siege of Nuremberg, was still enough to give him +hopes of victory, if he could compel the king to give battle before +his junction with the Saxons. But his present reliance was not so much +in his numerical superiority as in the predictions of his astrologer +Seni, who had read in the stars that the good fortune of the Swedish +monarch would decline in the month of November. Besides, between +Naumburg and Weissenfels there was a range of narrow defiles formed by +a long mountainous ridge, and also the river Saal which ran at their +foot, along which the Swedes could not advance without difficulty, and +which might, with the assistance of a few troops, be rendered almost +impassable. If attacked there, the king would have no choice but +either to penetrate with great danger through the defiles, or commence +a laborious retreat through Thuringia, and to expose the greater part +of his army to a march through a desert country entirely destitute of +all necessary supplies. But the rapidity with which Gustavus Adolphus +had taken possession of Naumburg disappointed this plan, and it was +now Wallenstein himself who awaited the attack. + +But in this expectation he was disappointed; for the king, instead of +advancing to meet him at Weissenfels, made preparations for +intrenching himself near Naumburg, with the intention of awaiting +there the reinforcements which the Duke of Luneburg was bringing up. +Undecided whether to advance against the king through the narrow +passes between Weissenfels and Naumburg or to remain inactive in his +camp, he called a council of war, in order to have the opinion of his +most experienced generals. None of these thought it prudent to attack +the king in his advantageous position. On the other hand, the +preparations which the latter made to fortify his camp plainly showed +that it was not his intention soon to abandon it. But the approach of +winter rendered it impossible to prolong the campaign and by a +continued encampment to exhaust the strength of the army, already so +much in need of repose. All voices were in favor of immediately +terminating the campaign, and the more so, as the important city of +Cologne upon the Rhine was threatened by the Dutch, while the progress +of the enemy in Westphalia and the Lower Rhine called for effective +reinforcements in that quarter. Wallenstein yielded to the weight of +these arguments, and, almost convinced that, at this season, he had no +reason to apprehend an attack from the King, he put his troops into +winter-quarters, but so that, if necessary, they might be rapidly +assembled. Count Pappenheim was dispatched, with a great part of the +army, to the assistance of Cologne, with orders to take possession, on +his march, of the fortress of Moritzburg, in the territory of Halle. +Different corps took up their winter-quarters in the neighboring +towns, to watch, on all sides, the motions of the enemy. Count +Colloredo guarded the castle of Weissenfels, and Wallenstein himself +encamped with the remainder not far from Merseburg, between Flotzgaben +and the Saal, from whence he purposed to march to Leipzic and to cut +off the communication between the Saxons and the Swedish army. + +Scarcely had Gustavus Adolphus been informed of Pappenheim's +departure, when, suddenly breaking up his camp at Naumburg, he +hastened with his whole force to attack the enemy, now weakened to one +half. He advanced, by rapid marches, toward Weissenfels, from whence +the news of his arrival quickly reached the enemy and greatly +astonished the Duke of Friedland. But a speedy resolution was now +necessary; and the measures of Wallenstein were soon taken. Though he +had little more than 12,000 men to oppose to the 20,000 of the enemy, +he might hope to maintain his ground until the return of Pappenheim, +who could not have advanced farther than Halle, five miles distant. +Messengers were hastily dispatched to recall him, while Wallenstein +moved forward into the wide plain between the Canal and Ltzen, where +lie awaited the King in full order of battle, and, by this position, +cut off his communication with Leipzic and the Saxons auxiliaries. + +Three cannon shots, fired by Count Colloredo from the castle of +Weissenfels, announced the king's approach; and at this concerted +signal, the light troops of the Duke of Friedland, under the command +of the Croatian General Isolani, moved forward to possess themselves +of the villages lying upon the Rippach. Their weak resistance did not +impede the advance of the enemy, who crossed the Rippach, near the +village of that name, and formed in line below Ltzen, opposite the +Imperialists. The high road which goes from Weissenfels to Leipzic is +intersected between Ltzen and Markranstadt by the canal which extends +from Zeitz to Merseburg and unites the Elster with the Saal. On this +canal rested the left wing of the Imperialists, and the right of the +King of Sweden; but so that the cavalry of both extended themselves +along the opposite side. To the northward, behind Ltzen, was +Wallenstein's right wing, and to the south of that town was posted the +left wing of the Swedes; both armies fronted the high road, which ran +between them and divided their order of battle; but the evening before +the battle, Wallenstein, to the great disadvantage of his opponent, +had possessed himself of this highway, deepened the trenches which ran +along its sides, and planted them with musketeers, so as to make the +crossing of it both difficult and dangerous. Behind these, again, was +erected a battery of seven large pieces of cannon, to support the fire +from the trenches; and at the windmills, close behind Ltzen, fourteen +smaller field-pieces were ranged on an eminence from which they could +sweep the greater part of the plain. The infantry, divided into no +more than five unwieldy brigades, was drawn up at the distance of 300 +paces from the road, and the cavalry covered the flanks. All the +baggage was sent to Leipzic that it might not impede the movements of +the army; and the ammunition-wagons alone remained, which were placed +in rear of the line. To conceal the weakness of the Imperialists, all +the camp-followers and sutlers were mounted and posted on the left +wing, but only until Pappenheim's troops arrived. These arrangements +were made during the darkness of the night; and when the morning +dawned all was ready for the reception of the enemy. + +On the evening of the same day, Gustavus Adolphus appeared on the +opposite plain and formed his troops in the order of attack. His +disposition was the same as that which had been so successful the year +before at Leipzic. Small squadrons of horse were interspersed among +the divisions of the infantry, and troops of musketeers were placed +here and there among the cavalry. The army was arranged in two lines, +the canal on the right and in its rear, the high road in front, and +the town on the left. In the centre the infantry was formed, under the +command of Count Brahe; the cavalry on the wings; the artillery in +front. To the German hero, Bernard, Duke of Weimar, was intrusted the +command of the German cavalry of the left wing; while, on the right, +the king led on the Swedes in person, in order to excite the emulation +of the two nations to a noble competition. The second line was formed +in the same manner; and behind these was placed the reserve, commanded +by Henderson, a Scotchman. + +In this position they awaited the eventful dawn of morning, to begin a +contest which long delay, rather than the probability of decisive +consequences, and the picked body, rather than the number of the +combatants, was to render so terrible and remarkable. The strained +expectation of Europe, so disappointed before Nuremberg, was now to be +gratified on the plains of Ltzen. During the whole course of the +war, two such generals, so equally matched in renown and ability, had +not before been pitted against each other. Never, as yet, had daring +been cooled by so awful a hazard, or hope animated by so glorious a +prize. Europe was next day to learn who was her greatest +general--tomorrow the leader, who had hitherto been invincible, must +acknowledge a victor. This morning was to place it beyond a doubt +whether the victories of Gustavus at Leipzic and on the Lech were +owing to his own military genius, or to the incompetency of his +opponent; whether the services of Wallenstein were to vindicate the +Emperor's choice and justify the high price at which they had been +purchased. The victory was as yet doubtful, but certain were the labor +and the bloodshed by which it must be earned. Every private in both +armies felt a jealous share in their leader's reputation, and under +every corslet beat the same emotions that inflamed the bosoms of the +generals. Each army knew the enemy to which it was to be opposed: and +the anxiety which each in vain attempted to repress was a convincing +proof of their opponent's strength. + +At last the fateful morning dawned; but an impenetrable fog, which +spread over the plain, delayed the attack till noon. Kneeling in front +of his lines, the king offered up his devotions; and the whole army, +at the same moment dropping on their knees, burst into a moving hymn, +accompanied by the military music. The king then mounted his horse, +and clad only in a leathern doublet and surtout (for a wound he had +formerly received prevented his wearing armor), rode along the ranks +to animate the courage of his troops with a joyful confidence, which, +however, the foreboding presentiment of his own bosom contradicted. +"God with us!" was the war-cry of the Swedes; "Jesus Maria!" that of +the Imperialists. About eleven the fog began to disperse, and the +enemy became visible. At the same moment Ltzen was seen in flames, +having been set on fire by command of the duke to prevent his being +outflanked on that side. The charge was now sounded; the cavalry +rushed upon the enemy, and the infantry advanced against the trenches. + +Received by a tremendous fire of musketry and heavy artillery, these +intrepid battalions maintained the attack with undaunted courage, till +the enemy's musketeers abandoned their posts, the trenches were +passed, the battery carried and turned against the enemy. They pressed +forward with irresistible impetuosity; the first of the five imperial +brigades was immediately routed, the second soon after, and the third +put to flight. But here the genius of Wallenstein opposed itself to +their progress. With the rapidity of lightning he was on the spot to +rally his discomfited troops; and his powerful word was itself +sufficient to stop the flight of the fugitives. Supported by three +regiments of cavalry, the vanquished brigades, forming anew, faced the +enemy and pressed vigorously into the broken ranks of the Swedes. A +murderous conflict ensued. The nearness of the enemy left no room for +fire-arms, the fury of the attack no time for loading; man was matched +to man, the useless musket exchanged for the sword and pike, and +science gave way to desperation. Overpowered by numbers, the wearied +Swedes at last retire beyond the trenches; and the captured battery is +again lost by the retreat. A thousand mangled bodies already strewed +the plain, and as yet not a single step of ground had been won. In the +meantime the king's right wing, led by himself, had fallen upon the +enemy's left. The first impetuous shock of the heavy Finland +cuirassiers dispersed the lightly-mounted Poles and Croats, who were +posted here, and their disorderly flight spread terror and confusion +among the rest of the cavalry. At this moment notice was brought the +king that his infantry were retreating over the trenches, and also +that his left wing, exposed to a severe fire from the enemy's cannon +posted at the windmills, was beginning to give way. With rapid +decision he committed to General Horn the pursuit of the enemy's left, +while he flew, at the head of the regiment of Steinboek, to repair +the disorder of his right wing. His noble charger bore him with the +velocity of lightning across the trenches, but the squadrons that +followed could not come on with the same speed, and only a few +horsemen, among whom was Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg, were +able to keep up with the king. He rode directly to the place where his +infantry were most closely pressed, and while he was reconnoitering +the enemy's line for an exposed point of attack, the shortness of his +sight unfortunately led him too close to their ranks. An imperial +Gefreyter,[62] remarking that every one respectfully made way for him +as he rode along, immediately ordered a musketeer to take aim at him. +"Fire at him yonder," said he; "that must be a man of consequence." +The soldier fired, and the king's left arm was shattered. At that +moment his squadron came hurrying up, and a confused cry of "The king +bleeds! the king is shot!" spread terror and consternation through all +the ranks. "It is nothing--follow me," cried the king, collecting his +whole strength; but overcome by pain and nearly fainting, he requested +the Duke of Lauenburg, in French, to lead him unobserved out of the +tumult. While the duke proceeded toward the right wing with the king, +making a long circuit to keep this discouraging sight from the +disordered infantry, his majesty received a second shot through the +back, which deprived him of his remaining strength. "Brother," said +he, with a dying voice, "I have enough! look only to your own life." +At the same moment he fell from his horse pierced by several more +shots; and abandoned by all his attendants, he breathed his last +amidst the plundering hands of the Croats. His charger, flying without +its rider and covered with blood, soon made known to the Swedish +cavalry the fall of their king. They rushed madly forward to rescue +his sacred remains from the hands of the enemy. A murderous conflict +ensued over the body, till his mangled remains were buried beneath a +heap of slain. + +The mournful tidings soon ran through the Swedish army; but instead +of destroying the courage of these brave troops, it but excited it +into a new, a wild, and consuming flame. Life had lessened in value, +now that the most sacred life of all was gone; death had no terrors +for the lowly since the anointed head was not spared. With the fury of +lions the Upland, Smland, Finland, East and West Gothland regiments +rushed a second time upon the left wing of the enemy, which, already +making but feeble resistance to General Horn, was now entirely beaten +from the field. Bernard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, gave to the bereaved +Swedes a noble leader in his own person; and the spirit of Gustavus +led his victorious squadrons anew. The left wing quickly formed again +and vigorously pressed the right of the Imperialists. The artillery at +the windmills, which had maintained so murderous a fire upon the +Swedes, was captured and turned against the enemy. The centre, also, +of the Swedish infantry, commanded by the duke and Knyphausen, +advanced a second time against the trenches, which they successfully +passed, and retook the battery of seven cannons. The attack was now +renewed with redoubled fury upon the heavy battalions of the enemy's +centre; their resistance became gradually less, and chance conspired +with Swedish valor to complete the defeat. The imperial powder-wagons +took fire, and, with a tremendous explosion, grenades and bombs filled +the air. The enemy, now in confusion, thought they were attacked in +the rear, while the Swedish brigades pressed them in front. Their +courage began to fail them. Their left wing was already beaten, their +right wavering, and their artillery in the enemy's hands. The battle +seemed to be almost decided; another moment would settle the fate of +the day, when Pappenheim appeared on the field, with his cuirassiers +and dragoons; all the advantages already gained were lost, and the +battle was to be fought anew. + +The order which recalled that general to Ltzen had reached him in +Halle, while his troops were still plundering the town. It was +impossible to collect the scattered infantry with that rapidity which +the urgency of the order and Pappenheim's impatience required. Without +waiting for it, therefore, he ordered eight regiments of cavalry to +mount; and at their head he galloped at full speed for Ltzen, to +share in the battle. He arrived in time to witness the flight of the +imperial right wing, which Gustavus Horn was driving from the field, +and to be at first involved in their rout. But with rapid presence of +mind he rallied the flying troops, and led them once more against the +enemy. Carried away by his wild bravery, and impatient to encounter +the king who he supposed was at the head of this wing, he burst +furiously upon the Swedish ranks, which, exhausted by victory, and +inferior in numbers, were, after a noble resistance, overpowered by +this fresh body of enemies. Pappenheim's unexpected appearance revived +the drooping courage of the Imperialists, and the Duke of Friedland +quickly availed himself of the favorable moment to re-form his line. +The closely serried battalions of the Swedes were, after a tremendous +conflict, again driven across the trenches; and the battery, which had +been twice lost, was again rescued from their hands. The whole yellow +regiment, the finest of all that distinguished themselves in this +dreadful day, lay dead on the field, covering the ground almost in the +same excellent order which, when alive, they maintained with such +unyielding courage. The same fate befell another regiment of Blues, +which Count Piccolomini attacked with the imperial cavalry and cut +down after a desperate contest. Seven times did this intrepid general +renew the attack; seven horses were shot under him, and he himself was +pierced with six musket balls; yet he would not leave the field, until +he was carried along in the general rout of the whole army. +Wallenstein himself was seen riding through his ranks with cool +intrepidity, amidst a shower of balls, assisting the distressed, +encouraging the valiant with praise, and the wavering by his fearful +glance. Around and close by him his men were falling thick, and his +own mantle was perforated by several shots. But avenging destiny this +day protected that breast for which another weapon was reserved; on +the same field where the noble Gustavus expired, Wallenstein was not +allowed to terminate his guilty career. + +Less fortunate was Pappenheim, the Telamon of the army, the bravest +soldier of Austria and the church. An ardent desire to encounter the +king in person carried this daring leader into the thickest of the +fight, where he thought his noble opponent was most surely to be met. +Gustavus had also expressed a wish to meet his brave antagonist, but +these hostile wishes remained ungratified; death first brought +together these two great heroes. Two musket-balls pierced the breast +of Pappenheim; and his men forcibly carried him from the field. While +they were conveying him to the rear, a murmur reached him that he whom +he had sought lay dead upon the plain. When the truth of the report +was confirmed to him, his look became brighter, his dying eye sparkled +with a last gleam of joy. "I Tell the Duke of Friedland," said he, +"that I lie without hope of life, but that I die happy, since I know +that the implacable enemy of my religion has fallen on the same day." + +With Pappenheim, the good fortune of the Imperialists departed. The +cavalry of the left wing, already beaten, and only rallied by his +exertions, no sooner missed their victorious leader than they gave up +everything for lost and abandoned the field of battle in spiritless +despair. The right wing fell into the same confusion, with the +exception of a few regiments which the bravery of their colonels Gtz, +Terzky, Colloredo, and Piccolomini compelled to keep their ground. The +Swedish infantry, with prompt determination, profited by the enemy's +confusion. To fill up the gaps which death had made in the front line, +they formed both lines into one, and with it made the final and +decisive charge. A third time they crossed the trenches, and a third +time they captured the battery. The sun was setting when the two lines +closed. The strife grew hotter as it drew to an end; the last efforts +of strength were mutually exerted, and skill and courage did their +utmost to repair in these precious moments the fortune of the day. It +was in vain; despair endows every one with superhuman strength; no one +can conquer, no one will give way. The art of war seemed to exhaust +its powers on one side, only to unfold some new and untried +masterpiece of skill on the other. Night and darkness at last put at +end to the fight, before the fury of the combatants was exhausted; and +the contest ceased only when no one could any longer find an +antagonist. Both armies separated, as if by tacit agreement; the +trumpets sounded, and each party claiming the victory, quitted the +field. + +The artillery on both sides, as the horses could not be found, +remained all night upon the field, at once the reward and the evidence +of victory to him who should hold it. Wallenstein, in his haste to +leave Leipzic and Saxony, forgot to remove his part. Not long after +the battle was ended, Pappenheim's infantry, who had been unable to +follow the rapid movements of their general and who amounted to six +regiments, marched on the field, but the work was done. A few hours +earlier, so considerable a reinforcement would perhaps have decided +the day in favor of the Imperialists; and, even now, by remaining on +the field, they might have saved the duke's artillery and made a prize +of that of the Swedes. But they had received no orders to act; and, +uncertain as to the issue of the battle, they retired to Leipzic, +where they hoped to join the main body. + +The Duke of Friedland had retreated thither, and was followed on the +morrow by the scattered remains of his army, without artillery, +without colors, and almost without arms. The Duke of Weimar, it +appears, after the toils of this bloody day, allowed the Swedish army +some repose, between Ltzen and Weissenfels, near enough to the field +of battle to oppose any attempt the enemy might make to recover it. Of +the two armies, more than 9,000 men lay dead; a still greater number +were wounded, and, among the Imperialists, scarcely a man escaped from +the field uninjured. The entire plain from Ltzen to the Canal was +strewed with the wounded, the dying, and the dead. Many of the +principal nobility had fallen on both sides. Even the Abbot of Fulda, +who had mingled in the combat as a spectator, paid for his curiosity +and his ill-timed zeal with his life. History says nothing of +prisoners; a further proof of the animosity of the combatants, who +neither gave nor took quarter. + +Pappenheim died the next day of his wounds at Leipzig; an irreparable +loss to the imperial army, which this brave warrior had so often led +on to victory. The battle of Prague, where together with Wallenstein, +he was present as colonel, was the beginning of his heroic career. +Dangerously wounded, with a few troops, he made an impetuous attack on +a regiment of the enemy, and lay for several hours mixed with the dead +upon the field, beneath the weight of his horse, till he was +discovered by some of his own men in plundering. With a small force he +defeated, in three different engagements, the rebels in Upper Austria, +though 40,000 strong. At the battle of Leipzic, he for a long time +delayed the defeat of Tilly by his bravery, and led the arms of the +Emperor on the Elbe and the Weser to victory. The wild impetuous fire +of his temperament, which no danger, however apparent, could cool, or +impossibilities check, made him the most powerful arm of the imperial +force, but unfitted him for acting at its head. The battle of Leipzic, +if Tilly may be believed, was lost through his rash ardor. At the +destruction of Magdeburg, his hands were deeply steeped in blood; war +rendered savage and ferocious his disposition, which had been +cultivated by youthful studies and various travels. On his forehead, +two red streaks, like swords, were perceptible, with which nature had +marked him at his very birth. Even in his later years these became +visible, as often as his blood was stirred by passion; and +superstition easily persuaded itself that the future destiny of the +man was thus impressed upon the forehead of the child. As a faithful +servant of the House of Austria, he had the strongest claims on the +gratitude of both its lines, but he did not survive to enjoy the most +brilliant proof of their regard. A messenger was already on his way +from Madrid, bearing to him the order of the Golden Fleece, when death +overtook him at Leipzic. + +Though _Te Deum_, in all Spanish and Austrian lands, was sung in honor +of a victory, Wallenstein himself, by the haste with which he quitted +Leipzic and, soon after, all Saxony, and by renouncing his original +design of fixing there his winter-quarters, openly confessed his +defeat. It is true he made one more feeble attempt to dispute, even in +his flight, the honor of victory, by sending out his Croats next +morning to the field; but the sight of the Swedish army drawn up in +order of battle, immediately dispersed these flying bands, and Duke +Bernard, by keeping possession of the field, and soon after by the +capture of Leipzic, maintained indisputably his claim to the title of +victor. + +But it was a dear conquest, a dearer triumph! It was not till the fury +of the contest was over that the full weight of the loss sustained was +felt and the shout of triumph died away into a silent gloom of +despair. He, who had led them to the charge, returned not with them: +there he lay upon the field which he had won, mingled with the dead +bodies of the common crowd. After a long and almost fruitless search, +the corpse of the king was discovered, not far from the great stone, +which, for a hundred years before, had stood between Ltzen and the +Canal, and which, from the memorable disaster of that day, still bears +the name of the Stone of the Swede. Covered with blood and wounds so +as scarcely to be recognized, trampled beneath the horses' hoofs, +stripped by the rude hands of plunderers of its ornaments and clothes, +his body was drawn from beneath a heap of dead, conveyed to +Weissenfels, and there delivered up to the lamentations of his +soldiers and the last embraces of his queen. The first tribute had +been paid to revenge, and blood had atoned for the blood of the +monarch; but now affection assumes its rights, and tears of grief must +flow for the man. The universal sorrow absorbs all individual woes. +The generals, still stupefied by the unexpected blow, stood speechless +and motionless around his bier, and no one trusted himself enough to +contemplate the full extent of their loss. + +The Emperor, we are told by Khevenhuller, showed symptoms of deep, and +apparently sincere feeling, at the sight of the king's doublet stained +with blood, which had been stripped from him during the battle and +carried to Vienna. "Willingly," said he, "would I have granted to the +unfortunate prince a longer life and a safe return to his kingdom, had +Germany been at peace." But when a trait, which is nothing more than a +proof of a yet lingering humanity and which a mere regard to +appearances and even self-love would have extorted from the most +insensible, and the absence of which could exist only in the most +inhuman heart, has, by a Roman Catholic writer of modern times and +acknowledged merit, been made the subject of the highest eulogium and +compared with the magnanimous tears of Alexander for the fall of +Darius, our distrust is excited of the other virtues of the writer's +hero, and, what is still worse, of his own ideas of moral dignity. But +even such praise, whatever its amount, is much for one whose memory +his biographer has to clear from the suspicion of being privy to the +assassination of a king. + +It was scarcely to be expected that the strong leaning of mankind to +the marvelous would leave to the common course of nature the glory of +ending the career of Gustavus Adolphus. The death of so formidable a +rival was too important an event for the Emperor not to excite in his +bitter opponent a ready suspicion that what was so much to his +interests was also the result of his instigation. For the execution, +however, of this dark deed, the Emperor would require the aid of a +foreign arm, and this it was generally believed he had found in +Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg. The rank of the latter +permitted him a free access to the king's person, while at the same +time it seemed to place him above the suspicion of so foul a deed. +This prince, however, was in fact not incapable of this atrocity, and +he had, moreover, sufficient motives for its commission. + +Francis Albert, the youngest of four sons of Francis II., Duke of +Lauenburg, and related by the mother's side to the race of Vasa, had, +in his early years, found a most friendly reception at the Swedish +court. Some offence which he had committed against Gustavus Adolphus, +in the queen's chamber, was, it is said, repaid by this fiery youth +with a box on the ear; which, though immediately repented of, and +amply apologized for, laid the foundation of an irreconcilable hate in +the vindictive heart of the duke. Francis Albert subsequently entered +the imperial service, where he rose to the command of a regiment, +formed a close intimacy with Wallenstein, and condescended to be the +instrument of a secret negotiation with the Saxon court, which did +little honor to his rank. Without any sufficient cause being assigned, +he suddenly quitted the Austrian service, and appeared in the king's +camp at Nuremberg to offer his services as a volunteer. By his show of +zeal for the Protestant cause, and a prepossessing and flattering +deportment, he gained the heart of the king, who, warned in vain by +Oxenstiern, continued to lavish his favor and friendship on this +suspicious new comer. The battle of Ltzen soon followed, in which +Francis Albert, like an evil genius, kept close to the king's side and +did not leave him till he fell. He owed, it was thought, his own +safety amidst the fire of the enemy, to a green sash which he wore, +the color of the Imperialists. He was at any rate the first to convey +to his friend Wallenstein the intelligence of the king's death. After +the battle, he exchanged the Swedish service for the Saxon; and, after +the murder of Wallenstein, being charged with being an accomplice of +that general, he escaped the sword of justice only by abjuring his +faith. His last appearance in life was as commander of an imperial +army in Silesia, where he died of the wounds he had received before +Schweidnitz. It requires some effort to believe in the innocence of a +man, who had run through a career like this, of the act charged +against him; but, however great may be the moral and physical +possibility of his committing such a crime, it must still be allowed +that there are no certain grounds for imputing it to him. Gustavus +Adolphus, it is well known, exposed himself to danger, like the +meanest soldier in his army, and where thousands fell, he, too, might +naturally meet his death. How it reached him, remains indeed buried in +mystery; but here, more than anywhere, does the maxim apply that where +the ordinary course of things is fully sufficient to account for the +fact, the honor of human nature ought not to be stained by any +suspicion of moral atrocity. + +But by whatever hand he fell, his extraordinary destiny must appear a +great interposition of Providence. History, too often confined to the +ungrateful task of analyzing the uniform play of human passions, is +occasionally rewarded by the appearance of events which strike, like a +hand from heaven, into the nicely adjusted machinery of human plans +and carry the contemplative mind to a higher order of things. Of this +kind is the sudden retirement of Gustavus Adolphus from the +scene--stopping for a time the whole movement of the political machine +and disappointing all the calculations of human prudence. Yesterday, +the very soul, the great and animating principle of his own creation; +today, struck unpitiably to the ground in the very midst of his eagle +flight; untimely torn from a whole world of great designs and from the +ripening harvest of his expectations, he left his bereaved party +disconsolate; and the proud edifice of his past greatness sunk into +ruins. The Protestant party had identified its hopes with its +invincible leader, and scarcely can it now separate them from him; +with him, they now fear all good fortune is buried. But it was no +longer the benefactor of Germany who fell at Ltzen; the beneficient +part of his career Gustavus Adolphus had already terminated; and now +the greatest service which he could render to the liberties of Germany +was--to die. The all-engrossing power of an individual was at an end, +but many came forward to essay their strength; the equivocal +assistance of an over-powerful protector gave place to a more noble +self-exertion on the part of the Estates; and those who were formerly +the mere instruments of his aggrandizement now began to work for +themselves. They now looked to their own exertions for the +emancipation which could not be received without danger from the hand +of the mighty; and the Swedish power, now incapable of sinking into +the oppressor, was henceforth restricted to the more modest part of an +ally. + +The ambition of the Swedish monarch aspired unquestionably to +establish a power within Germany and to attain a firm footing in the +centre of the empire, which was inconsistent with the liberties of the +Estates. His aim was the imperial crown; and this dignity, supported +by his power and maintained by his energy and activity, would in his +hands be liable to more abuse than had ever been feared from the House +of Austria. Born in a foreign country, educated in the maxims of +arbitrary power, and by principles and enthusiasm a determined enemy +to Popery, he was ill qualified to maintain inviolate the constitution +of the German States, or to respect their liberties. The coercive +homage which Augsburg, with many other cities, was forced to pay to +the Swedish crown, bespoke the conqueror rather than the protector of +the empire; and this town, prouder of the title of a royal city than +of the higher dignity of the freedom of the empire, flattered itself +with the anticipation of becoming the capital of his future kingdom. +His ill-disguised attempts upon the Electorate of Mentz, which he +first intended to bestow upon the Elector of Brandenburg, as the dower +of his daughter Christina, and afterward destined for his chancellor +and friend Oxenstiern, evinced plainly what liberties he was disposed +to take with the constitution of the empire. His allies, the +Protestant princes, had claims on his gratitude, which could be +satisfied only at the expense of their Roman Catholic neighbors, and +particularly of the immediate Ecclesiastical Chapters; and it seems +probable a plan was early formed for dividing the conquered provinces +(after the precedent of the barbarian hordes who overran the German +empire) as a common spoil, among the German and Swedish confederates. +In his treatment of the Elector Palatine, he entirely belied the +magnanimity of the hero, and forgot the sacred character of a +protector. The Palatinate was in his hands, and the obligations both +of justice and honor demanded its full and immediate restoration to +the legitimate sovereign. But, by a subtlety unworthy of a great mind, +and disgraceful to the honorable title of protector of the oppressed, +he eluded that obligation. He treated the Palatinate as a conquest +wrested from the enemy, and thought that this circumstance gave him a +right to deal with it as he pleased. He surrendered it to the Elector +as a favor, not as a debt; and that, too, as a Swedish fief, fettered +by conditions which diminished half its value, and degraded this +unfortunate prince into a humble vassal of Sweden. One of these +conditions obliged the Elector, after the conclusion of the war, to +furnish, along with the other princes, his contribution toward the +maintenance of the Swedish army, a condition which plainly indicates +the fate which, in the event of the ultimate success of the king, +awaited Germany. His sudden disappearance secured the liberties of +Germany and saved his reputation, while it probably spared him the +mortification of seeing his own allies in arms against him and all the +fruits of his victories torn from him by a disadvantageous peace. +Saxony was already disposed to abandon him, Denmark viewed his success +with alarm and jealousy; and even France, the firmest and most potent +of his allies, terrified at the rapid growth of his power and the +imperious tone which he assumed, looked around for foreign alliances +at the very moment he passed the Lech in order to check the progress +of the Goths and restore to Europe the balance of power. + + * * * * * + + FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 59: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 60: Priests' plunder; alluding to the means by which the +expense of its erection had been defrayed.] + +[Footnote 61: A ton of gold in Sweden amounts to 100,000 rix dollars.] + +[Footnote 62: Gefreyter, a person exempt from watching duty, nearly +corresponding to the corporal.] + + * * * * * + + + + +ON THE USE OF THE CHORUS IN TRAGEDY (1803)[63] + +TRANSLATED BY A. LODGE + + +A Poetical work must vindicate itself--if the execution be defective, +little aid can be derived from commentaries. + +On these grounds, I might safely leave the Chorus to be its own +advocate, if we had ever seen it presented in an appropriate manner. +But it must be remembered that a dramatic composition first assumes +the character of a whole by means of representation on the stage. The +Poet supplies only the words, to which, in a lyrical tragedy, music +and rhythmical motion are essential accessories. It follows, then, +that if the Chorus is deprived of accompaniments appealing so +powerfully to the senses, it will appear a superfluity in the economy +of the drama--mere hindrance to the development of the +plot--destructive to the illusion of the scene and wearisome to the +spectators. To do justice to the Chorus, more especially if our aims +in Poetry be of a grand and elevated character, we must transport +ourselves from the actual to a possible stage. It is the privilege of +Art to furnish for itself whatever is requisite, and the accidental +deficiency of auxiliaries ought not to confine the plastic imagination +of the Poet. He aspires to whatever is most dignified, he labors to +realize the ideal in his own mind-though in the execution of his +purpose he must needs accommodate himself to circumstances. + +The assertion so commonly made, that the Public degrades Art, is not +well founded. It is the artist that brings the Public to the level of +his own conceptions; and, in every age in which Art has gone to decay, +it has fallen through its professors. The People need feeling alone, +and feeling they possess. They take their station before the curtain +with an unvoiced longing, with a multifarious capacity. They bring +with them an aptitude for what is highest--they derive the greatest +pleasure from what is judicious and true; and if, with these powers of +appreciation, they deign to be satisfied with inferior productions, +still, if they have once tasted what is excellent, they will, in the +end, insist on having it supplied to them. + +It is sometimes objected that the Poet may labor according to an +Ideal--that the critic may judge from ideas, but that mere executive +art is subject to contingencies and depends for effect on the +occasion. Managers will be obstinate; actors are bent on display--the +audience is inattentive and unruly. Their object is relaxation, and +they are disappointed if mental exertion be required, when they +expected only amusement. But if the Theatre be made instrumental +toward higher objects, the pleasure of the spectator will not be +increased, but ennobled. It will be a diversion, but a poetical one. +All Art is dedicated to pleasure, and there can be no higher and +worthier end than to make men happy. The true Art is that which +provides the highest degree of pleasure; and this consists in the +abandonment of the spirit to the free play of all its faculties. +Every one expects from the imaginative arts a certain emancipation +from the bounds of reality: we are willing to give a scope to Fancy, +and recreate ourselves with the possible. The man who expects it the +least will nevertheless forget his ordinary pursuits, his every-day +existence and individuality, and experience delight from uncommon +incidents: if he be of a serious turn of mind, he will acknowledge on +the stage that moral government of the world which he fails to +discover in real life. But he is, at the same time, perfectly aware +that all is an empty show, and that, in a true sense, he is feeding +only on dreams. When he returns from the theatre to the world of +realities, he is again compressed within its narrow bounds; he is its +denizen as before--for it remains what it was, and in him nothing has +been changed. What, then, has he gained beyond a momentary illusive +pleasure which vanished with the occasion? + +It is because a passing recreation is alone desired that a mere show +of truth is thought sufficient. I mean that probability or +vraisemblance which is so highly esteemed, but which the commonest +workers are able to substitute for the true. + +Art has for its object not merely to afford a transient pleasure, to +excite to a momentary dream of liberty; its aim is to make us +absolutely free; and this it accomplishes by awakening, exercising, +and perfecting in us a power to remove to an objective distance the +sensible world (which otherwise only burdens us as rugged matter and +presses us down with a brute influence); to transform it into the free +working of our spirit, and thus acquire a dominion over the material +by means of ideas. For the very reason also that true Art requires +somewhat of the objective and real, it is not satisfied with a show of +truth. It rears its ideal edifice on Truth itself--on the solid and +deep foundations of Nature. + +But how Art can be at once altogether ideal, yet in the strictest +sense real; how it can entirely leave the actual, and yet harmonize +with Nature, is a problem to the multitude; hence the distorted views +which prevail in regard to poetical and plastic works for to ordinary +judgments these two requisites seem to counteract each other. + +It is commonly supposed that one may be attained by the sacrifice of +the other--the result is a failure to arrive at either. One to whom +Nature has given a true sensibility, but denied the plastic +imaginative power, will be a faithful painter of the real; he will +adapt casual appearances, but never catch the spirit of Nature. He +will only reproduce to us the matter of the world, which, not being +our own work, the product of our creative spirit, can never have the +beneficent operation of Art, of which the essence is freedom. Serious, +indeed, but unpleasing, is the cast of thought with which such an +artist and poet dismisses us; we feel ourselves painfully thrust back +into the narrow sphere of reality by means of the very art which ought +to have emancipated us. On the other hand, a writer, endowed with a +lively fancy, but destitute of warmth and individuality of feeling, +will not concern himself in the least about truth; he will sport with +the stuff of the world, and endeavor to surprise by whimsical +combinations; and as his whole performance is nothing but foam and +glitter, he will, it is true, engage the attention for a time, but +build up and confirm nothing in the understanding. His playfulness is, +like the gravity of the other, thoroughly unpoetical. To string +together at will fantastical images, is not to travel into the realm +of the ideal; and the imitative reproduction of the actual cannot be +called the representation of nature. Both requisites stand so little +in contradiction to each other that they are rather one and the same +thing; that Art is true only as it altogether forsakes the actual and +becomes purely ideal. Nature herself is an idea of the mind, and is +never presented to the senses. She lies under the veil of appearances, +but is herself never apparent. To the art of the ideal alone is lent, +or rather, absolutely given, the privilege to grasp the spirit of the +All and bind it in a corporeal form. + +Yet, in truth, even Art cannot present it to the senses, but by means +of her creative power to the imaginative faculty alone; and it is thus +that she becomes more true than all reality, and more real than all +experience. It follows from these premises that the artist can use no +single element taken from reality as he finds it--that his work must +be ideal in all its parts, if it be designed to have, as it were, an +intrinsic reality and to harmonize with nature. + +What is true of Art and Poetry, in the abstract, holds good as to +their various kinds; and we may apply what has been advanced to the +subject of tragedy. In this department, it is still necessary to +controvert the ordinary notion of the natural, with which poetry is +altogether incompatible. A certain ideality has been allowed in +painting, though, I fear, on grounds rather conventional than +intrinsic; but in dramatic works what is desired is illusion, which, +if it could be accomplished by means of the actual, would be, at best, +a paltry deception. All the externals of a theatrical representation +are opposed to this notion; all is merely a symbol of the real. The +day itself in a theatre is an artificial one; the metrical dialogue is +itself ideal; yet the conduct of the play must forsooth be real, and +the general effect sacrificed to a part. Thus the French, who have +utterly misconceived the spirit of the ancients, adopted on their +stage the unities of time and place in the most common and empirical +sense; as though there were any place but the bare ideal one, or any +other time than the mere sequence of the incidents. + +By the introduction of a metrical dialogue an important progress has +been made toward the poetical Tragedy. A few lyrical dramas have been +successful on the stage, and Poetry, by its own living energy, has +triumphed over prevailing prejudices. But so long as these erroneous +views are entertained little has been done--for it is not enough +barely to tolerate as a poetic license that which is, in truth, the +essence of all poetry. The introduction of the Chorus would be the +last and decisive step; and if it only served this end, namely, to +declare open and honorable warfare against naturalism in art, it would +be for us a living wall which Tragedy had drawn around herself, to +guard her from contact with the world of reality, and maintain her own +ideal soil, her poetical freedom. + +It is well known that the Greek tragedy had its origin in the Chorus; +and though, in process of time, it became independent, still it may be +said that poetically, and in spirit, the Chorus was the source of its +existence, and that without these persevering supporters and witnesses +of the incident a totally different order of poetry would have grown +out of the drama. The abolition of the Chorus, and the debasement of +this sensibly powerful organ into the characterless substitute of a +confidant, is, by no means, such an improvement in tragedy as the +French, and their imitators, would have it supposed to be. + +The old Tragedy, which at first only concerned itself with gods, +heroes and kings, introduced the Chorus as an essential accompaniment. +The poets found it in nature, and for that reason employed it. It grew +out of the poetical aspect of real life. In the new Tragedy it becomes +an organ of art which aids in making the poetry prominent. The modern +poet no longer finds the Chorus in nature; he must needs create and +introduce it poetically; that is, he must resolve on such an +adaptation of his story as will admit of its retrocession to those +primitive times and to that simple form of life. + +The Chorus thus renders more substantial service to the modern +dramatist than to the old poet--and for this reason, that it +transforms the commonplace actual world into the old poetical one; +that it enables him to dispense with all that is repugnant to poetry, +and conducts him back to the most simple, original, and genuine +motives of action. The palaces of kings are in these days +closed-courts of justice have been transferred from the gates of +cities to the interior of buildings; writing has narrowed the province +of speech; the people itself--the sensibly living mass--when it does +not operate as brute force, has become a part of the civil polity, and +thereby an abstract idea in our minds; the deities have returned +within the bosoms of mankind. The poet must reopen the palaces--he +must place courts of justice beneath the canopy of heaven--restore the +gods, reproduce every extreme which the artificial frame of actual +life has abolished--throw aside every factitious influence on the mind +or condition of man which impedes the manifestation of his inward +nature and primitive character, as the statuary rejects modern +costume, and of all external circumstances adopts nothing but what is +palpable in the highest of forms--that of humanity. But precisely as +the painter throws around his figures draperies of ample volume, to +fill up the space of his picture richly and gracefully, to arrange its +several parts in harmonious masses, to give due play to color, which +charms and refreshes the eye--and at once to envelop human forms in a +spiritual veil, and make them visible--so the tragic poet inlays and +entwines his rigidly contracted plot and the strong outlines of his +characters with a tissue of lyrical magnificence, in which, as in +flowing robes of purple, they move freely and nobly, with a sustained +dignity and exalted repose. + +In a higher organization, the material, or the elementary, need not be +visible; the chemical color vanishes in the finer tints of the +imaginative one. The material, however, has its peculiar effect, and +may be included in an artistical com position. But it must deserve its +place by animation, fulness and harmony, and give value to the ideal +forms which it surrounds, instead of stifling them by its weight. + +In respect of the pictorial art, this is obvious to ordinary +apprehension, yet in poetry likewise, and in the tragical kind, which +is our immediate subject, the same doctrine holds good. Whatever +fascinates the senses alone is mere matter and the rude element of a +work of art:--if it take the lead it will inevitably destroy the +poetical--which lies at the exact medium between the ideal and the +sensible. But man is so constituted that he is ever impatient to pass +from what is fanciful to what is common; and reflection must, +therefore, have its place even in tragedy. But to merit this place it +must, by means of delivery, recover what it wants in actual life; for +if the two elements of poetry, the ideal and the sensible, do not +operate with an inward mutuality, they must at least act as allies--or +poetry is out of the question. If the balance be not intrinsically +perfect, the equipoise can be maintained only by an agitation of both +scales. + +This is what the Chorus effects in tragedy. It is, in itself, not an +individual but a general conception; yet it is represented by a +palpable body which appeals to the senses with an imposing grandeur. +It forsakes the contracted sphere of the incidents to dilate itself +over the past and future, over distant times and nations and general +humanity, to deduce the grand results of life, and pronounce the +lessons of wisdom. But all this it does with the full power of +fancy--with a bold lyrical freedom which ascends, as with godlike +step, to the topmost height of worldly things; and it effects it in +conjunction with the whole sensible influence of melody and rhythm, in +tones and movements. + +The Chorus thus exercises a purifying influence on tragic poetry, +insomuch as it keeps reflection apart from the incidents, and by this +separation arms it with a poetical vigor; as the painter, by means of +a rich drapery, changes the ordinary poverty of costume into a charm +and an ornament. + +But as the painter finds himself obliged to strengthen the tone of +color of the living subject, in order to counter-balance the material +influences--so the--lyrical effusions of the Chorus impose upon the +poet the necessity of a proportionate elevation of his general +diction. It is the Chorus alone which entitles the poet to employ +this fulness of tone, which at once charms the senses, pervades the +spirit, and expands the mind. This one giant form on his canvas +obliges him to mount all his figures on the cothurnus, and thus impart +a tragical grandeur to his picture. If the Chorus be taken away, the +diction of the tragedy must generally be lowered, or what is now great +and majestic will appear forced and overstrained. The old Chorus +introduced into the French tragedy would present it in all its poverty +and reduce it to nothing; yet, without doubt, the same accomplishment +would impart to Shakespeare's tragedy its true significance. + +As the Chorus gives life to the language--so also it gives repose to +the action; but it is that beautiful and lofty repose which is the +characteristic of a true work of art. For the mind of the spectator +ought to maintain its freedom through the most impassioned scenes; it +should not be the mere prey of impressions, but calmly and severely +detach itself from the emotions which it suffers. The commonplace +objection made to the Chorus that it disturbs the illusion and blunts +the edge of the feelings, is what constitutes its highest +recommendation; for it is this blind force of the affections which the +true artist deprecates this illusion is what he disdains to excite. If +the strokes which Tragedy inflicts on our bosoms followed without +respite--the passion would overpower the action. We should mix +ourselves up with the subject-matter, and no longer stand above it. It +is by holding asunder the different parts, and stepping between the +passions with its composing views, that the Chorus restores to us our +freedom, which would else be lost in the tempest. The characters of +the drama need this intermission in order to collect themselves; for +they are no real beings who obey the impulse of the moment, and +merely represent individuals--but ideal persons and representatives of +their species, who enunciate the deep things of Humanity. + +Thus much on my attempt to revive the old Chorus on the tragic stage. +It is true that choruses are not unknown to modern tragedy; but the +Chorus of the Greek drama, as I have employed it--the Chorus, as a +single ideal person, furthering and accompanying the whole plot--is of +an entirely distinct character; and when, in discussion on the Greek +tragedy, I hear mention made of choruses, I generally suspect the +speaker's ignorance of his subject. In my view the Chorus has never +been reproduced since the decline of the old tragedy. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 63: Permission G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., London, and The +Macmillan Co., New York.] + + * * * * * + + + + +SCHILLER-GOETHE CORRESPONDENCE[64] + +TRANSLATED BY L. DORA SCHMITZ + + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, August 23, 1794. + +I yesterday received the welcome news that you had returned from your +journey. We may therefore hope to see you among us again soon, which +I, on my part, most heartily wish. My recent conversations with you +have put the whole store of my ideas in motion, for they related to a +subject which has actively engaged my thoughts for some years past. +Many things upon which I could not come to a right understanding with +myself have received new and unexpected light from the contemplation I +have had of your mind (for so I must call the general impression of +your ideas upon me). I needed the _object_, the body, for several of +my speculative ideas, and you have put me on the track of finding it. +Your calm and clear way of looking at things keeps you from getting on +the by-roads into which speculation as well as arbitrary +imagination--which merely follows its own bent--are so apt to lead one +astray. Your correct intuition grasps all things, and that far more +perfectly than what is laboriously sought for by analysis; and merely +because this lies within you as a whole, is the wealth of your mind +concealed from yourself. For, alas! we know only that which we can +take to pieces. Minds like yours, therefore, seldom know how far they +have penetrated and how little cause they have to borrow from +philosophy, which, in fact, can learn only from them. Philosophy can +merely dissect what is given it, but the giving itself is not the work +of the analyzer but of genius, which combines things according to +objective laws under the obscure but safe influence of pure reason. + +[Illustration: MONUMENT TO GOETHE AND SCHILLER IN WEIMAR] + +Although I have done so at a distance, I have long watched the course +which your mind has pursued, and have observed, with ever renewed +admiration, the path which you have marked out for yourself. You seek +for the necessary in nature, but you seek it by the most difficult +route--one which all weaker minds would take care to avoid. You look +at Nature as a whole, when seeking to get light thrown upon her +individual parts; you look for the explanation of the individual in +the totality of her various manifestations. From the simple organism +you ascend step by step to those that are more complex, in order, in +the end, genetically to form the most complicate of all--man--out of +the materials of nature as a whole. By thus, as it were, imitating +nature in creating him, you try to penetrate into his hidden +structure. This is a great and truly heroic idea, which sufficiently +shows how your mind keeps the whole wealth of its conceptions in one +beautiful unity. You can never have expected that your life would +suffice to attain such an end, but to have struck out such a path is +worth more than reaching the end of any other; and you, like Achilles +in the Iliad, made your choice between Phthia and immortality. Had you +been born a Greek, or even an Italian, and had you from infancy been +placed in the midst of choice natural surroundings and of an +idealizing Art, your path would have been infinitely shortened, +perhaps even have been rendered entirely superfluous. Had such been +the case, you would, on your first perception of things, have taken up +the form of the Necessary, and the grand style would have been +developed in you with your first experience. But being born a German, +and your Grecian spirit having been cast in this Northern mold, you +had no other choice but either to become a Northern artist; or, by the +help of the power of thought, to supply your imagination with what +reality withheld from it, and thus, as it were, to produce a Greek +from within by a reasoning process. At that period of life when the +soul, surrounded by defective forms, constructs its own inward nature +out of outward circumstances, you had already assumed a wild Northern +nature, and your victorious genius, rising above its materials, then +discovered this want from within, and became convinced of it from +without through its acquaintance with Greek nature. You had then, in +accordance with the better model which your developing mind created +for itself, to correct your old and less perfect nature, and this +could be effected only by following leading ideas. However, this +_logical_ direction which a reflecting mind is forced to pursue, is +not very compatible with the _esthetic_ state of mind by which alone a +reflecting mind becomes creative. You, therefore, had one task more: +for inasmuch as your mind had passed over from intuition to +abstraction, so you had now to go back and retranslate ideas into +intuitions, and to change thoughts into feelings; for it is only +through the latter that genius can be productive. + +It is somewhat in this manner that I imagine the course pursued by +your mind, and whether I am right or not you will yourself know best. +However, what you yourself can scarcely be aware of (as genius ever +remains the greatest mystery to itself) is the beautiful harmony +between your philosophical instinct and the purest results of your +speculative reason. Upon a first view it does indeed seem as if there +could not be any greater opposites than the speculative mind which +proceeds from unity, and the intuitive mind which proceeds from +variety. If, however, the former seeks experience with a pure and +truthful spirit, and the latter seeks law with self-active and free +power of thought, then the two cannot fail to meet each other half +way. It is true that the intuitive mind has only to deal with +individuals, the speculative mind only with species. But if the +intuitive mind is that of a genius and seeks the nature of the +Necessary in experience, then individuals will be produced, it is +true, but they will possess the character of the species; and again, +if the speculative mind is that of a genius, and does not lose sight +of experience when rising above it, then it will indeed produce +species only, but with the possibility of individual life and with a +well-founded relation to actual objects. + +But I find that in place of sending you a letter I am writing an +essay--pray excuse this, and ascribe it to the lively interest with +which the subject has filled me; and should you not recognize your +own image in this mirror, do not on that account flee from it, I pray. +* * * + +Diderot's work[65], especially the first part, is very interesting, +and, considering the subject, is handled with edifying delicacy. I beg +to be permitted to keep this book for a few days longer. + +It would, I think, be well if we could now soon start the new +periodical, and you would perhaps be kind enough to let the first +number be opened with something of yours. I, therefore, take the +liberty of asking you whether you would be willing to let your +novel[66] appear in our journal in successive numbers? But whether you +determine to let us have it or not, I should consider it a very great +favor to be allowed to read it. + +My friends and my wife commend themselves to your kind remembrance. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Ettersburg, August 27, 1794. + +On the anniversary of my birthday, which took place this week, I could +not have received a more acceptable gift than the letter in which you +give the sum of my existence in so friendly a manner, and in which, by +your sympathy, you encourage me to a more assiduous and active use of +my powers. + +Pure enjoyment and true usefulness can only be reciprocal, and it will +be a pleasure to me to unfold to you at leisure what your conversation +has been to me; how I, too, regard those days as an epoch in my life, +and how contented I feel in having gone on my way without any +particular encouragement; for it seems to me that, after so unexpected +a meeting, we cannot but wander on in life together. I have always +prized the frank and rare earnestness which is displayed in all that +you have written and done, and I may now claim to be made acquainted +by yourself with the course taken by your own mind, more especially +during these latter years. If we make it clear to each other to which +point we have thus far attained, the better able we shall be to work +on together without interruption. + +All that relates to myself I will gladly communicate to you; for, +being fully conscious that my undertaking far exceeds the measure of +human capabilities and their earthly duration, I should like to +deposit many things with you, and thereby not only preserve them but +give them life. + +Of what great advantage your sympathy will be to me you will yourself +soon perceive, when, upon a closer acquaintance, you discover in me a +kind of obscurity and hesitation which I cannot entirely master, +although distinctly aware of their existence. Such phenomena, however, +are often found in our natures, and we quietly submit to them as long +as they do not become too tyrannical. + +I hope to be able to spend some time with you soon, when we shall talk +over many things. + +Unfortunately, a few weeks before receiving your proposal, I had given +my novel to Unger,[67] and the first proof sheets have already come to +hand. I have more than once thought, during these last days, that it +would have been very suitable for your periodical. It is the only +thing I have by me of any size, and is a kind of problematical work +such as the good Germans like. + +I will send the first Book as soon as I get all the proof sheets. It +is so long since it was written that, in the actual sense of the word, +I may be said to be only the editor. + +[Illustration: + + The highest aim he reached + on soaring pinion + Closely allied to all we value most + Thus honor him! What life but + scantily + To Genius yields, in full shall + give Posterity. + +Goethe on Schiller.] + +If, among my projects, there were anything that would serve the +purpose you mention, we should, I think, easily agree as to the most +appropriate form to put it in, and there should be no delay in my +working it out. Farewell, and remember me to your circle. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, August 31, 1794. + +On my return from Weissenfels, where I met my friend Krner from +Dresden, I received your last letter but one, the contents of which +pleased me for two reasons; for I perceive from it that the view I +took of your mind coincides with your own feelings, and that you were +not displeased with the candor with which I allowed my heart to +express itself. Our acquaintance, although it comes late, awakens in +me many a delightful hope, and is to me another proof of how much +better it often is to let chance have its way than to forestall it +with too much officiousness. Great as my desire always was to become +more closely acquainted with you than is possible between the spirit +of a writer and his most attentive reader, I now clearly see that the +very different paths upon which you and I have moved could not, with +any advantage to ourselves, have brought us together sooner than at +the present time. I now hope, however, that we may travel over the +rest of our life's way together, and, moreover, do this with more than +usual advantage to each other, inasmuch as the last travelers who join +company on a long journey have always the most to say to each other. + +Do not expect to find any great store of ideas in me; this is what I +shall find in you. My need and endeavor are to make much out of +little, and, when you once come to know my poverty in all so-called +acquired knowledge, you will perhaps find that I have sometimes +succeeded in doing this; for, the circle of my ideas being small, I +can the more rapidly and the more frequently run through it; for that +very reason I can use my small resources with more effect, and can, by +means of form, produce that variety which is wanting in the +subject-matter. You strive to simplify your great world of ideas; I +seek variety for my small means. You have to govern a whole realm, I +but a somewhat numerous family of ideas, which I would be heartily +glad to be able to extend into a little world. + +Your mind works intuitively to an extraordinary degree, and all your +thinking powers appear, as it were, to have come to an agreement with +your imagination to be their common representative. In reality, this +is the most that a man can make of himself if only he succeeds in +generalizing his perceptions and making his feelings his supreme law. +This is what you have endeavored to do, and what in a great measure +you have already attained. My understanding works more in a +symbolizing method, and thus I hover, as a hybrid, between ideas and +intentions, between law and feeling, between a technical mind and +genius. This it is that, particularly in my earlier years, gave me a +rather awkward appearance both in the field of speculation and in that +of poetry; for the poetic mind generally got the better of me when I +ought to have philosophized, and my philosophical mind when I wished +to poetize. Even now it frequently enough happens that imagination +intrudes upon my abstractions, and cold reason upon my poetical +productions. If I could obtain such mastery over these two powers as +to assign to each its limits, I might yet look forward to a happy +fate; but, alas! just when I have begun to know and to use my moral +powers rightly, illness seizes me and threatens to undermine my +physical powers. I can scarcely hope to have time to complete any +great and general mental revolution in myself; but I will do what I +can, and when, at last, the building falls, I shall, perhaps, after +all, have snatched from the ruins what was most worthy of being +preserved. + +You expressed a wish that I should speak of myself, and I have made +use of the permission. I make these confessions to you in +confidence, and venture to hope that you will receive them in a kindly +spirit. + +I shall today refrain from entering into details about your essay, +which will at once lead our conversations on this subject upon the +most fertile track. My own researches--entered upon by a different +path--have led me to a result rather similar to that at which you have +arrived, and in the accompanying papers you will perhaps find ideas +which coincide with your own. I wrote them about a year and a half +ago, for which reason, as well as on account of the occasion for which +they were penned (they were intended for an indulgent friend), there +is some excuse for their crudeness of form. These ideas have, indeed, +since then, received in me a better foundation and greater precision, +and this may possibly bring them much nearer to yours. + +I cannot sufficiently regret that _Wilhelm Meister_ is lost to our +periodical. However, I hope that your fertile mind and friendly +interest in our undertaking will give us some compensation for this +loss, whereby the admirers of your genius will be double gainers. In +the number of the _Thalia_ which I herewith send you, you will find +some ideas of Krner's on Declamation, which, I think, will please +you. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, January 7, 1795. + +Accept my best thanks for the copy of the novel you have sent me. The +feeling which penetrates and takes hold of me with increasing force +the further I read on in this work, I cannot better express in words +than by calling it a delicious, inward sense of comfort, a feeling of +mental and bodily well-being, and I will vouch that this will be the +effect produced upon all readers. + +This sense of comfort I account for from the calm clearness, +smoothness, and transparency which pervade the whole of your work, and +which leave nothing to disturb or to dissatisfy the mind, and the mind +is not more excited than is necessary to fan and maintain a joyous +life. Of the individual parts I shall say nothing till I have seen the +Third Book, which I am looking forward to with longing. + +I cannot express to you what a painful feeling it often is to me to +pass from a work of this kind into one of a philosophical character. +In the former all is so joyous, so alive, so harmoniously evolved, and +so true to human life; in the latter all is so stern, so rigid, +abstract, and so extremely unnatural; for all nature is synthesis, and +philosophy but antithesis. I can, in fact, give proof of having been +as true to nature in my speculations as is compatible with the idea of +analysis; indeed, I have perhaps been more faithful to her than our +Kantians would consider permissible or possible. But still I am no +less fully conscious of the infinite difference between Life and +Reasoning, and cannot, in such melancholy moments, help perceiving a +want in my own nature which in happier hours I am forced to think of +only as a natural duality of the thing itself. This much, however, is +certain--the poet is the only true man, and the best philosopher is +but a caricature in comparison with him. + +I need scarcely assure you that I am in the utmost anxiety to know +what you have to say to my philosophy of the Beautiful. As the +Beautiful itself is derived from man as a whole, so my analysis of it +is drawn from _my_ own whole being, and I cannot but be deeply +interested in knowing how this accords with yours. + +Your presence here will be a source of nourishment both to my mind and +my heart. Especially great is my longing to enjoy some poetical works +in common with you. + +[Illustration: Schiller on Goethe] + +You promised to let me hear some of your epigrams when an opportunity +occurred. It would be a great and additional pleasure to me if this +could be done during your approaching visit to Jena, as it is still +very uncertain when I may be able to get to W. + +Just as I am about to close comes the welcome continuation of your +_Meister_. A thousand thanks for it! + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Weimar, November 21, 1795. + +Today I received twenty-one of Propertius' elegies from Knebel and +shall look them over carefully and then let the translator know where +I find anything to object to; for, as he has given himself so much +trouble, nothing ought, perhaps, to be altered without his sanction. + +I wish you could induce Cotta to pay for this manuscript at once; it +could easily be calculated how many sheets it would print. I have, it +is true, no actual occasion to ask this, but it would look much +better, would encourage energetic coperation, and also help in making +the good name of the _Horen_ better known. A publisher has often +enough to pay money in advance, so Cotta might surely once in a way +pay upon the receipt of a manuscript. Knebel wants the Elegies to be +divided into three contributions; I, too, think this the right +proportion, and we should thus have the first three numbers of next +year's _Horen_ nicely adorned. I will see to it that you get them in +proper time. + +Have you seen Stolberg's abominable preface to his Platonic +discourses? The disclosures he there makes are so insipid and +intolerable that I feel very much inclined to step out and chastise +him. It would be a very simple matter to hold up to view the senseless +unreasonableness of this stupid set of people, if, in so doing, one +had but a rational public on one's side; this would at the same time +be a declaration of war against that superficiality which it has now +become necessary to combat in every department of learning. The secret +feuds of suppressing, misplacing, and misprinting, which it has +carried on against us, have long deserved that this declaration should +be held in honorable remembrance, and that continuously. + +I find this doubly necessary and unavoidable in the case of my +scientific works, which I am gradually getting into order. I intend to +speak out my mind pretty frankly against reviewers, journalists, +collectors of magazines, and writers of abridgments, and, in a prelude +or prolog, openly to declare myself against the public; in this +instance, especially, I do not intend to allow any one's opposition or +reticence to pass. + +What do you say, for instance, to Lichtenberg, with whom I have had +some correspondence about the optical subjects we spoke of, and with +whom, besides, I am on pretty good terms, not even mentioning my +essays in his new edition of Erxleben's Compendium, especially as a +new edition of a compendium is surely issued in order to introduce the +latest discoveries, and these gentlemen are usually quick enough in +noting down everything in their interleaved books! How many different +ways there are of dispatching a work like this, even though it were +but done in a passing manner I However, at the present moment, my +cunning brains cannot think of any one of these ways. + +I am, at present, very far from being in anything like an esthetic or +sentimental mood, so what is to become of my poor novel? Meanwhile, I +am making use of my time as best I can, and my comfort is that, at so +low an ebb, one may hope that the flood is about to return. + +Your dear letter reached me safely, and I thank you for your sympathy, +which I felt sure you would give me. In such cases one hardly knows +what is best to do--to let grief take its natural course or to fortify +oneself with the assistance which culture gives us. If one determines +to follow the latter course--as I always do--one feels better merely +for the moment, and. I have noticed that Nature always reasserts her +rights in other ways. + +The Sixth Book of my novel has made a good impression here also; to be +sure, the poor reader never knows what he is about with works of this +kind, for he does not consider that he would probably never take them +up had not the author contrived to get the better of his thinking +powers, his feelings, and his curiosity. + +Your testimony in favor of my tale I prize very highly, and I shall +henceforth work with more confidence at this species of composition. + +The last volume of my novel cannot in any case appear before +Michaelmas; it would be well if we could arrange the plans we lately +discussed in reference to this. + +My new story can, I think, hardly be ready by December, and, +moreover, I can scarcely venture to pass on to it till I have, in some +way or other, written something in explanation of the first. If, by +December, I could write something of this kind neatly, I should be +very glad of thus being able to give you a contribution for next +year's opening number. Farewell. May we long enjoy having around us +those who are nearest and dearest to us. Toward New Year's I hope +again to spend some time with you. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER to GOETHE + +Jena, July 2, 1796. + +I have now run through all the eight Books of your novel, very +hurriedly, it is true, but the subject-matter alone is so large that I +could scarcely get through it in two days' reading. Properly speaking, +therefore, I ought not to say anything about it even today, for the +surprising and unparalleled variety which is therein _concealed_--in +the strictest sense of the word--is overpowering. I confess that what +I have as yet grasped correctly is but the _continuity_, not the +_unity_, although I do not for a moment doubt that I shall become +perfectly clear on this point also, if, as I think, in works of this +kind, the continuity is more than half the unity. + +As, under the circumstances, you cannot exactly expect to receive from +me anything thoroughly satisfactory and yet wish to hear something, +you must be content with a few remarks; these, however, are not +altogether without value, inasmuch as they will tell of direct +impressions. To make up for this, I promise you that our discussions +about your novel shall continue throughout the month. To give an +adequate and truly esthetic estimate of a whole work, as a work of +art, is a serious undertaking. I shall devote the whole of the next +four months to it, and that with pleasure. Besides this, it is one of +the greatest blessings of my existence that I have lived to see this +work of yours completed, that it has been written while my faculties +are still in a state of growth, and that I may draw inspiration from +this pure source; further, the beautiful relation that exists between +us makes it seem to me a kind of religious duty to call your cause my +own, and to develop all that is real in my nature so fully that my +mind may become the clearest mirror of what exists beneath this +covering, and that I may deserve the name of being your friend in the +higher sense of the word. How vividly have I felt, at this time, that +excellence is a power, that it can influence selfish natures only as a +power, and that, as contrasted with excellence, there is no freedom +but love! + +I cannot say how much I have been moved by the truth, the beautiful +vitality, and the simple fulness of your work. My agitation, it is +true, is greater than it will be when I have completely mastered your +subject, and that will be an important crisis in my intellectual life; +but yet this agitation is the effect of the Beautiful and only of the +Beautiful, and is merely the result of my reason not having yet been +able to master my feelings. I now quite understand what you meant by +saying that it was the Beautiful, the True, that could often move you +to tears. Calm and deep, clear and yet incomprehensible, like nature, +your work makes its influence felt; it stands there, and even the +smallest secondary incident shows the beautiful equanimity from which +all has emanated. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER RECITING FROM HIS WORKS TO HIS WEIMAR FRIENDS] + +But I cannot, as yet, find words to describe these impressions, and, +moreover, I must today confine myself to the Eighth Book. How well you +have succeeded in bringing the large and widely extended circle, the +different attitudes and scenes of the events, so closely together +again! Your work may be compared to a beautiful planetary system; +everything belongs together, and it is only the Italian figures which, +like comets and as weirdly as they, connect the system with one that +is more remote and larger. Further, these figures, as also Marianna +and Aurelia, run wholly out of this system again, and, after having +merely served to produce a poetical movement in it, separate +themselves from it as foreign individuals. How beautifully conceived +it is to derive what is practically monstrous and terribly pathetic in +the fate of Mignon and the Harpist from what is theoretically +monstrous, from the abortions of the understanding, so that nothing is +thereby laid to the charge of pure and healthy nature! Senseless +superstition alone gives birth to such monstrous fates as pursue +Mignon and the Harpist. Even Aurelia's ruin is but the result of her +own unnaturalness, her masculine nature. Toward Marianna alone could I +accuse you of poetic selfishness. I could almost say she has been made +a sacrifice to the novel, as the nature of the case would not permit +of her being saved. Her fate, therefore, will ever draw forth bitter +tears, while in the case of the three others the reader will gladly +turn from what is individual to the idea of the whole. + +Wilhelm's false relationship to Theresa is admirably conceived, +motivated, and worked out, and still more admirably turned to account. +Many a reader will at first be actually alarmed at it, for I can +promise Theresa but few wellwishers; all the more beautiful is the way +in which the reader is rescued from this state of uneasiness. I cannot +imagine how this false relation could have been dissolved more +tenderly, more delicately, or more nobly. How pleased Richardson and +all his set would have been had you made a scene out of it and been +highly indelicate in the display of delicate sentiments! I have but +one little objection to raise: Theresa's courageous and determined +resistance to the person who wishes to rob her of her lover, even +although the possibility is thereby reopened to her of possessing +Lothar, is quite in accordance with nature, and is excellent; further, +I think there are good reasons for Wilhelm's showing deep indignation +and a certain amount of pain at the banterings of his fellowmen and of +fate--but it seems to me that he ought to complain less deeply of the +loss of a happiness which had already ceased to be anything of the +kind to him. In Natalie's presence, as it seems to me, his regained +freedom ought to be to him a greater happiness than he allows it to +be. I am quite aware of the complication of this state of things and +what is demanded by _delicatesse_, but, on the other hand, Natalie may +in some measure be said to be hurt by this same _delicatesse_ when, in +her presence, Wilhelm is allowed to lament over the loss of Theresa. + +One other thing I specially admire in the concatenation of the events +is the great good which you have contrived to draw from Wilhelm's +already-mentioned false relation to Theresa so as most speedily to +bring about the true and desired end, the union of Natalie and +Wilhelm. In no other manner could this end have been arrived at so +well and so naturally as by the path you have pursued, although this +very path threatened to lead from it. It can now be maintained, with +the most perfect innocence and purity, that Wilhelm and Natalie belong +to each other; and Theresa's letters to Natalie lead up to this +beautifully. Such contrivances are of the greatest beauty, for they +unite all that could be desired, nay, all that appeared wholly +ununitable; they complicate, and yet carry the solution in themselves; +they produce restlessness, and yet lead to repose; they succeed in +reaching the goal, while appearing to be making every effort to keep +from it. + +Mignon's death, although we are prepared for it, affects one +powerfully and deeply--so deeply, in fact, that many will think you +quit the subject too abruptly. This, upon first reading it, was a very +decided feeling in my own case; but, on reading it a second time, when +surprise had subsided, I felt it less, and yet I fear that you may +have, in this, gone a hair's breadth too far. Mignon, before her end, +had begun to appear more womanly and softer, and thus to have become +more interesting in herself; the repulsive heterogeneity of her nature +had relaxed, and with this relaxation some of her impetuosity had +likewise disappeared. Her last song, especially, melts one's heart to +the most intense sympathy. Hence it strikes one as odd that, directly +upon the affecting scene of her death, the doctor should make an +experiment upon her corpse, and that this living being should so soon +be able to forget the person, merely in order to regard her as the +instrument of a scientific inquiry. It strikes one as being equally +strange that Wilhelm--who, after all, is the cause of her death, and +is aware of it--should at that moment notice the instrument-case and +be lost in the recollection of past scenes, when the present should +have so wholly absorbed him. + +You may, in this case also, justify yourself as having been quite true +to nature, but I doubt whether you will be able to do this as regards +the "sentimental" demands of your readers; and therefore--in order +that nothing should interfere with the reader's acceptance of a scene +which is so splendidly motivated and so well worked out--I would +advise you to pay some attention to it. + +Otherwise, I find everything you do with Mignon, when living as well +as when dead, most uncommonly beautiful. This pure and poetic creature +is specially and excellently qualified to have so poetical a funeral. +In her isolated condition, her mysterious existence, her purity and +innocence, she is so truly a representative of the period of life in +which she stands that she moves one to a feeling of unmixed sadness +and genuine human sorrow, for nothing but pure humanity was manifested +in her. That which, in every other individual, would be inconsistent, +nay, in a certain sense, revolting, is, in her, sublime and noble. + +I should have liked to see the appearance of the Marquis in the family +motivated by something more than his mere dilettanteism in art. He is +too indispensable to the development, and the _need_ of his +interference might easily have been made more conspicuous than the +inner necessity. You have yourself spoilt the reader by the +arrangement of the rest of your work, and have justified him in making +greater demands than can generally be required of novel writers. Could +not the Marquis be made an old acquaintance of Lothar or of the Uncle, +and his journey hither be more interwoven with the whole? + +The end, as well as the whole history of the Harpist, excites the +greatest interest. I have already said how excellent I find your +thought of deriving the terrible destinies of the Harpist and of +Mignon from religious extravagance. The priest's notion of describing +a small transgression as monstrous, in order that a great crime--which +he will not mention for humanity's sake--may be atoned for by it, is +sublime of its kind and a worthy representative of this whole mode of +thinking. You might perhaps make Sperate's story a little shorter +still, as it comes in at the end where one is prone to hurry +impatiently to the goal. + +That the Harpist should prove to be Mignon's father, and that you +yourself do not mention it or thrust it at the reader, makes the +effect all the greater. One is forced to reflect upon the fact +oneself, to recall to mind how close in life was the relation which +existed between these two mysterious natures, and to look down into an +unfathomable depth of fate. But no more for today. My wife wishes to +inclose a little note to tell you her impressions of your Eighth Book. + +Farewell, my beloved, my esteemed friend! I am deeply moved when I +think that that which we otherwise look for and rarely find in the far +distance of favored antiquity lies so close to me in you. You need no +longer be astonished that there are so few who are capable or worthy +of understanding you. The wonderful naturalness, truth, and fluency of +your description hide from the common herd of critics every thought of +the difficulty, of the grandness of your art, and those who are +capable of following the artist, who perceive the means by which the +effects have been produced, will feel themselves so averse, so hostile +toward the genial power which they there see in action, and find their +needy selves in such straits, that they will angrily thrust the work +from them, while in their hearts--though with _de mauvaise +grace_--they are certain to be your liveliest worshippers. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER Weimar, July 5, 1796. + +As soon as I received your first letter I at once sat down to write to +you; but verily your two following letters have come to me, in the +midst of my truly worldly occupations, like two voices from another +world to which I can do naught but listen. Pray continue to refresh +and to encourage me! Your suggestions will enable me to finish the +Eighth Book as soon as I am able again to take it in hand. I already +possess the means to satisfy nearly every one of your suggestions, by +which, moreover, even to my mind, the whole work becomes more +connected at the points in question, and both truer and more pleasing. +Do not become weary of telling me your opinion frankly, and keep the +book a week longer. What you require of _Cellini_ I shall meanwhile +push forward; I shall also give you a sketch of what I still think of +doing to my Eighth Book, and hence the last transcript shall be out of +our hands by the beginning of August. + +Your letters are now my sole recreation, and you must know how +grateful I am to you for having so unexpectedly set my mind at ease +about so many points. Farewell, and give my kind greetings to your +dear wife. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +March 18, 1799. + +I congratulate you with all my heart upon having finished your work; +it has given me particular satisfaction, although I have, so to say, +but tasted the outside of it, and that on a most disturbed morning. +For stage purposes it is quite sufficiently developed; the new +motives, which I did not know of, are very good and to the point. + +If, at some future time, you could cut off a little from _The +Piccolomini_, both pieces would be a priceless gift to the German +stage, and they would have to be given throughout many a long year. + +The last piece has, it is true, this great merit, that everything +ceases to be political and becomes of purely human interest; nay, the +historical element itself is but a light veil through which we have +the purely human element shining forth. The effect upon the mind is +neither interfered with nor disturbed. + +I would certainly close with the monologue by the Princess, for it is, +in any case, left to the imagination as to what becomes of her. It +might perhaps be well, eventually, to have the Equerry introduced in +the first piece. + +The close of the whole with the address of the letter is, in reality, +frightening, especially considering the tender state of one's feelings +at the moment. It is doubtless an exceptional case to conclude with +what is terrible after having exhausted all that was capable of +rousing fear and pity. + +I shall not add more, and can but say that I am delighted at the +prospect of enjoying this work with you. I hope still to be able to +start on Thursday. You shall know for certain on Wednesday; we will +then read the play together, and I intend then to enjoy it in a +thoroughly composed state of mind. + +Farewell; take a rest now and let us both begin a new life during the +vacation. My kind greetings to your dear wife, and think of me. + +I do not intend, just yet, to boast of the work extorted from the +Muses; it is still a great question whether it is worth anything; in +any case, however, it may be regarded as preparatory. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, March 19, 1799. + +I have for long dreaded the moment when I should be rid of my work, +much as I wished for the time to come; and, in fact, I do feel my +present freedom to be worse than the state of bondage I have hitherto +been in. The mass which has formerly drawn and held me to it has now +gone, and I feel as if I were hanging indefinitely in empty space. At +the same time I feel also as if it were absolutely impossible for me +ever to produce anything again; I shall not be at rest till I once +more have my thoughts turned to some definite subject, with hope and +inclination in view. When I again have some definite object before me, +I shall be rid of the feeling of restlessness which at present is also +drawing me off from smaller things I have in hand. When you come I +mean to lay before you some tragic materials of my own invention, in +order that I may not, in the first instance, make a mistake as regards +subject. Inclination and necessity draw me toward subjects of pure +fancy, not to historical ones, and toward such in which the interest +is of a purely sentimental and human character; for of soldiers, +heroes, and commanders, I am now heartily tired. + +How I envy you your present activity--your latest! You are standing on +the purest and sublimest poetic ground, in the most beautiful world of +definite figures where everything is ready-made or can be re-made. You +are, so to say, living in the home of poetry and being waited upon by +the gods. During these last days I have again been looking into +Homer, and there have read of the visit of Thetis to Vulcan with +immense pleasure. There is, in the graceful description of a domestic +visit such as we might receive any day, and in an account of any kind +of handicraft, an infinity of material and form, and the Nave shows +the full nature of the Divine. + +Your hope of being able to finish the _Achilleid_ by August, or, at +least, your believing it to be possible to do so, is to me +inconceivable, notwithstanding all the proofs I have myself had of the +rapidity with which you get through things, especially as you do not +even reckon upon having April for work. I sincerely regret that you +will lose this month; perhaps, however, you will be able to preserve +your epic mood; if so, be sure not to allow theatrical cares to +disturb you. I will gladly relieve you of whatever trouble I can in +connection with _Wallenstein_. + +A few days ago Imhof sent me the last two cantos of her poem, which +have given me very great pleasure. The development is extremely +refined and pure, and is accomplished by simple means and unusual +elegance. When you come we will talk it over together. + +I herewith return _The Piccolomini_, and beg you to let me have +_Wallenstein's Camp_, which I wish likewise to have copied out, and +shall then, at last, be able to send the three plays to Krner. + +The box of groats has been called for and delivered up in your name to +a Herr Meyer. You have, no doubt, already received it. Farewell. My +wife sends kindest greetings. Tomorrow I hope to hear that we may +expect you on Thursday. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Weimar, July 30, 1800. The cheerful tone of your letter proves to me +that things are going well with you in Jena, and I congratulate you +that such is the case. I cannot boast the same of myself; the state of +the barometer, which is so favorable to you, brings on my spasms, and +I do not sleep well. Owing to this state of things, it was very +welcome news to me to hear from Krner that he could not undertake the +journey. I shall, therefore, not go to Lauchstedt, and shall thus have +an unexpected gain in time and also in money; for, much as I should +have liked to see him again, it would just at present have been a +little inconvenient to me. + +I congratulate you upon the progress you have made in your work. The +liberty which you appear to be taking with the French original, I look +upon as a good sign of the productive state of your mind, and also +augur from this that the work will bring us a step further forward +than _Mahomet_ did. I am looking forward eagerly to seeing your work +and to our discussions upon it. + +If you carry out your idea respecting the choruses, we shall be making +an important experiment on the stage. My piece, too, will, I hope, be +so far advanced by the time you return that I may lay the finished +sketch of it before you, in order to assure myself that you approve of +it before I set about working it out. During the last few days I have +likewise been engaged with the conclusion of my collection of poems. +The stanzas on _Mahomet I_ have also had printed in it. If you are +curious to see them, Goepferdt could send you sheets R and S as soon +as they have been printed off. + +Kirms sent me a very welcome today, for which I send you my best +thanks. + +My wife sends kindest greetings. May you farewell and enjoy the gay +variety of entertainments by which you are surrounded in Jena. Mellish +passed through here yesterday, and has again taken up his abode in +Doernburg. I hear a great deal about the merry life they are leading +in Wilhelmsthal, where the proceedings are evidently very Utopian. My +sister-in-law met with a serious accident in the carriage, which broke +in two; however, she herself was not hurt. Farewell. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Jena, August I, 1800. + +_Tancred_ I laid aside yesterday morning. I have translated--and here +and there a little more than this--the close of the second act and the +third and fourth acts, with the exception of the close of the two +latter. By this means, as I think, I have secured the worthier parts +of the piece, to which I shall now have to add something of my own +that is life-giving, so that the beginning and the end may become +somewhat fuller than the original. The choruses will be very +appropriate; however, I shall nevertheless have to act very cautiously +so as not to injure the whole. Still, once being upon the path we have +entered, I shall never regret working out and accomplishing this task. + +Yesterday I attended to some business matters, and today solved a +small difficulty in _Faust_; if I could remain here another fortnight +it should assume quite a different appearance. However, I have +unfortunately taken it into my head that my presence is required in +Weimar, and I am going to sacrifice my dearest wish to this fancy. + +In other ways, also, these last few days have not been unfruitful in +many good things. We have long pondered over a _Bride in Sorrow_. +Tieck, in his poetic journal, reminds me of an old marionette play +called the _Hoellenbraul_, which I too remember to have seen in my +young days. It is a pendent to _Faust_, or, rather, to _Don Juan_. An +extremely vain and heartless girl, who has ruined her faithful lover, +consents to accept an unknown stranger as her betrothed, and he, in +the end, as a devil, carries her off with him--as she deserves. Ought +we not to be able to find the idea for a bride in sorrow here--at +least in this direction? + +I have been reading a treatise of Baader's on the Pythagorean square +in nature, or the four quarters of the globe. Whether it be that I +have for some years past interested myself more in this species of +writing, or that he has contrived to make his intentions clearer, the +little work has pleased me and has served me as an introduction to his +earlier writings; however, my faculties are still unable to comprehend +all of the latter. + +A student here, who is engaged with the anatomy of insects, dissected +some very neatly and explained them to me, and I have thus made +progress in this branch also, partly in knowledge of the subject +itself, partly also in the treatment of it. + +If a young man like this could have some definite object given him to +work at, if only for four months, many very pleasant things might be +the result. However, if I can come over here again before the time +when certain cater-pillars change into chrysalies, I shall assuredly +try to make use of his ability and dexterity. One might, indeed, +easily do such things oneself, were it not that they would at once +lead one over into an entirely different sphere. On Monday I shall +be with you again, and shall have a number of things to bring with me +and to relate. + +Farewell meanwhile, and hold me in remembrance. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Ober-Rossla, April 6, 1801. + +I wish you all happiness upon your return to Weimar, and hope soon to +see you again, either by your coming to pay me a visit or by my again +repairing to town. + +My stay here suits me very well, partly because I move about in the +open air all day, partly because I am drawn down to the common objects +of life, and thus there comes over me a certain feeling of nonchalance +and indifference such as I have not known for a long time. + +With regard to the questions contained in your last letter, I not only +agree with your opinion, but go even further. I think that everything +that is done by genius as genius, is done unconsciously. A person of +genius can also act rationally, with reflection, from conviction, but +this is all done, as it were, indirectly. No work of genius can be +improved or be freed from its faults by reflection and its immediate +results, but genius can, by means of reflection and action, be +gradually raised to a degree that in the end shall produce exemplary +works. The more genius a century possesses, the more are individual +things advanced. + +With regard to the great demands now made of the poet, I too am of +the opinion that these will not readily call forth a poet. The art of +poetry requires of the person who is to exercise it a certain +good-natured kind of narrowness enamored of what is Real, behind which +lies concealed what is Absolute. Demands made by criticism destroy the +innocent, productive state, and give us as genuine poetry--in place of +poetry--something that is in fact no poetry at all, as unfortunately +we have seen in our own day; and the same is the case with the kindred +arts--nay, with Art in its widest sense. + +This is my confession of faith, which otherwise does not make any +further claims. + +[Illustration: THE GOETHE AND SCHILLER ARCHIVES IN WEIMAR] + +I expect much good from your latest work. It is well conceived, and, +if you devote sufficient time to it, will round itself off of its own +accord. _Faust_ also has meanwhile had something done to it. I hope +that soon the only thing wanting in the great gap will be the +disputation; this, it is true, will have to be looked upon as a +distinct piece of work, and one which will not be accomplished at a +moment's notice. + +The famous prize-question also has not been lost sight of during these +days. In order to obtain an empiric foundation for my observations, I +have commenced examining the character of the different European +nations. In Link's _Travels_ I have read a good deal more about +Portugal, and shall now pass on to Spain. I am daily becoming more +convinced how much more limited everything appears when such +observations are made from within. + +Ritter came to see me for a minute, and has, among other things, +directed my attention again to the theory of colors. Herschel's new +discoveries, which have been carried further and extended by our young +naturalist, are very beautifully connected with that observation which +I have frequently told you of--that Bolognian phosphorus does not +receive any light on the yellow-red side of the spectrum, but +certainly does so on the blue-red side. The physical colors are +thereby identified with the chemical colors. The time and care which +I have devoted to this subject give me the greatest advantage in +judging of new observations, inasmuch as, in fact, I have thought out +some new experiments which will carry the matter further still. I +foresee that I shall this year write at least two or three chapters +more in my theory of colors. I am anxious, some day soon, to show you +the latest. + +Would you care to come to me on Thursday with Professor Meyer? Please +talk this over with him, and I will then write to him more fully on +the subject. Meanwhile, farewell. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Weimar, August 18, 1802. + +You can never be inactive, and what you call an unproductive mood most +other people would consider time fully occupied. If only some +subordinate genius--one of those very persons residing and presiding +at the universities--would give the finishing touch to your scientific +ideas, collect and edit them fairly, and, in this way, preserve them +for the world! For, unfortunately, you yourself will always be putting +off this business, because, as I think, what is actually didactic is +not a part of your nature. You are, in reality, very well qualified +for being appropriated and plundered by others during your own +lifetime, as has already happened to you several times and would +happen more frequently still if people understood their own advantage +better. + +If we had become acquainted with each other half a dozen years earlier +than we did, I should have had time to master your scientific +investigations; I should perhaps have sustained your inclination to +give these important subjects their ultimate shape, and, in any case, +should have honestly looked after what belonged to you. + +I have lately been reading some notices on the elder Pliny, which have +astonished me in regard to what a man can accomplish by putting time +to good use. Compared with him, even Haller was a time-squanderer. But +I am afraid that the immense amount of time he devoted to reading, +making quotations and dictating, left him no proper time for +independent reflection, and he seems to have applied all the activity +of his mind to acquiring knowledge; for on one occasion he called his +nephew severely to task for walking up and down the garden without +having a book in his hand. + +During these last days I have been hard at work with my play, and, +moreover, not unsuccessfully; and I have never yet learned so much +from any work of my own as from this. It is one I can more readily +survey and also more readily manage; besides, it is a more grateful +and enjoyable task to make a simple subject rich and full of substance +than to limit one that is too rich and broad. + +Otherwise, however, a variety of things are at present engaging my +thoughts; and, as political affairs may also affect my circumstances, +I am awaiting my fate not without anxiety. There are also other things +which threaten to drag me out of my old position, and which, +therefore, are not agreeable to me. + +The repairs I am having made and other arrangements will, I hope, be +finished this week; and when you return I shall be able to bid you +welcome in a clean and pretty house. Farewell, and let me soon hear +that you are coming back to us with a rich gift. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Jena, December 13, 1803. + +It was to be expected that I should be recalled when Madame de Stael +came to Weimar. * * * If she comes to pay me a visit, she shall be +well received, and, if I know of her coming four-and-twenty hours +beforehand, a part of Loder's house shall be furnished for her use; +she would find homely fare, but we should really meet and speak to +each other, and she could remain as long as she liked. What I have to +do here can be done at odd quarters of an hour, and the rest of my +time I would place at her disposal; but to drive over in such weather +as this, to have to dress, to be at court and in society, is utterly +impossible. This I maintain as positively as was ever declared by +yourself in similar circumstances. + +Take this as a friendly guidance for your actions, for I desire +nothing more than actually to see and to become acquainted with this +remarkable and highly respected woman, and I wish for nothing so much +as that she may care to take this drive of a couple of hours for my +sake. On her journey she must have become accustomed to worse fare +than she will find here. Arrange and manage these things with your +gentle, friendly hand, and send me an express messenger at once, as +soon as anything important occurs. + +I wish you success in everything that your solitude produces, +according as you yourself may wish and desire! I am rowing about in a +foreign element, nay, I may say that I am merely paddling about in it, +with loss to things without, and without satisfaction from within or +toward within. But--as I am always learning more distinctly from +Polygnotus and Homer--we have in reality to conceive hell as existing +here; thus it may be considered to be also a life. A thousand +farewells in a heavenly sense! + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +January 14, 1805. + +I am very sorry to hear that your having to keep at home is not +voluntary on your part. Unfortunately, we are none of us quite strong, +and he who is of necessity forced to learn to put up with being ill +has the best of it. I am very glad now that I formed a determination +and have commenced to occupy myself with a translation; thus these +days of misery have, at all events, been put to some use, and I have +lived and been active. During the next eight days I shall try to see +whether I can put myself into the proper humor for my _Demetrius_, +which, however, I fear I shall not be able to do. If it cannot be +managed, I shall have to look up some other semi-mechanical work. + +[Illustration: FACSIMILIE OF A LEAF FROM THE ALBUM OF SCHILLERS +LETTERS TO CHARLOTTE VON LENGEFELD] + +Herewith I send you what has been copied out. Tomorrow my Rudolph will +get the whole finished. + +Would you look over the first sheets, occasionally compare them with +the original, and mark in pencil whatever you may have to suggest? I +should like to have it ready as soon as possible, and before the rles +are copied out. + +If the rles are commenced day after tomorrow, we could have a +reading-rehearsal next Sunday, and there would still be ten days +before the thirtieth. + +The Duke has given me permission to read the _Memoirs of Marmontel_, +which you now have; therefore, please let me have them when you have +finished with them. + +The Grand Duchess yesterday again spoke with great interest about your +late recital. She is looking forward to seeing and hearing many other +things at your house. + +Farewell; and let me, too, soon hear from you again. Should you not be +in the humor to read the sheets through, please send them back to me, +so that I can make use of the time for having them copied out. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +February 22, 1805. + +It was pleasant to me to see a few lines in your handwriting, and it +has again awakened my belief in the return of the old state of +things--which I have at times quite despaired of. The two severe +attacks which I have had within the space of seven months have shaken +my system to its very foundation, and I shall have difficulty in +recovering my strength. + +It is true that my present attack seems to have been merely the +general epidemic that is going about, but the fever in my case was so +great, and it seized me when I was already in such a weak state, that +I feel as if I had arisen from a most severe illness, and find it +specially difficult to struggle against a certain listlessness which +is the worst trouble in my case. + +I am anxious to hear whether you have yet sent off the manuscript of +_Rameau_. Goeschen has not written anything about it to me, and, in +fact, for the last fortnight I have not heard of anything that is +going on in the world. + +I trust that things may daily and hourly improve with you and with me +too, so that we may soon see each other in gladness. + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 64: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 65: Les Bijoux _Indiscrets._] + +[Footnote 66: Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister._] + +[Footnote 67: A publisher in Berlin] + + * * * * * + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth +and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. III, by Kuno Francke, Editor-in-Chief + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS VOL. 3 *** + +***** This file should be named 11692-8.txt or 11692-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/6/9/11692/ + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11692-8.zip b/old/11692-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ea94aa --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11692-8.zip diff --git a/old/11692.txt b/old/11692.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6707873 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11692.txt @@ -0,0 +1,26107 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth and +Twentieth Centuries, Vol. III, by Kuno Francke, Editor-in-Chief + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. III + Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. In Twenty + Volumes + + +Author: Kuno Francke (Editor-in-Chief) + +Release Date: March 23, 2004 [EBook #11692] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS VOL. 3 *** + + + + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + + + VOLUME III + + * * * * * + + FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER + + + + + + THE GERMAN CLASSICS + + Masterpieces of German Literature + + TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH + + + + + IN TWENTY VOLUMES + + ILLUSTRATED + + + + + + THE GERMAN PUBLICATION SOCIETY + NEW YORK + + + + 1914 + + + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME III + + +Life of Schiller. By Calvin Thomas + + +POEMS[1] + + To the Ideal + The Veiled Image at Sais + The Ideal and The Actual Life + Genius + Votive Tablets (Selections) + The Maiden from Afar + The Glove + The Diver + The Cranes of Ibycus + Thee Words of Belief + The Words of Error + The Lay of the Bell + The German Art + Commencement of the New Century + Cassandra + Rudolph of Hapsburg + + +DRAMAS + + Introduction to Wallenstein's Death. By William H. Carruth + + The Death of Wallenstein. Translated by S. T. Coleridge + + Introduction to William Tell. By William H. Carruth + + William Tell. Translated by Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B. + + Homage of the Arts. Translated by A. I. du P. Coleman + + +HISTORY AND LITERATURE + + The Thirty Years' War--Last Campaigns of Gustavus Adolphus. Translated + by Rev. A. J. W. Morrison + + On the Use of the Chorus in Tragedy. Translated by A. Lodge + + Schiller's Correspondence with Goethe. Translated by L. Dora Schmitz + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS--VOLUME III + + Milton and His Daughters. By Michael von Munkacsy + + Schiller. By C. Jaeger + + Schiller's Father and Mother + + Schiller's House in Weimar and Birthplace in Marbach + + Monument to Schiller in Berlin. By Reinhold Begas + + Military Academy in Stuttgart and the Theatre in Mannheim, 1782 + + Church in which Schiller was married + + Schiller at the Court of Weimar + + The Knight scorns Cunigonde. By Eugen Klimsch + + The Diver. By Carl Gehrts + + The Lay of the Bell. By Julius Benezur + + Cassandra. By Ferdinand Keller + + The Count gives up his Horse to the Priest. By Alexander Wagner + + Wallenstein and Seni + + Wallenstein and Terzky + + Wallenstein hears of Octavio's Treason + + Wallenstein warned by his Friends + + The Death of Wallenstein. By Karl von Piloty + + Stauffacher and his Wife Gertrude + + The Oath on the Ruetli + + Tell takes Leave of his Family + + Tell and Gessler + + The Death of Attinghausen. By Wilhelm von Kaulbach + + The Homage of the Arts. By Hermann Wislicenus + + Gustavus Adolphus + + Wallenstein. By Van Dyck + + Monument to Goethe and Schiller in Weimar. By Ernst Rietschel + + Goethe on Schiller. From the _Ford Collection_, New York Public Library + + Schiller on Goethe. From the _Ford Collection_, New York Public Library + + Schiller Reciting from his Works to his Weimar Friends. By Theobald + von Oer + + The Goethe and Schiller Archives in Weimar + + Facsimile of Leaf from the Album of Schiller's Letters to Charlotte + von Lengefeld + + + + +THE LIFE OF SCHILLER + + +BY CALVIN THOMAS, LL.D. + +Professor of Germanic Languages and Literatures, Columbia University + + + He kept the faith. The ardent poet-soul, + Once thrilled to madness by the fiery gleam + Of Freedom glimpsed afar in youthful dream, + Henceforth was true as needle to the pole. + The vision he had caught remained the goal + Of manhood's aspiration and the theme + Of those high luminous musings that redeem + Our souls from bondage to the general dole + Of trivial existence. Calm and free + He faced the Sphinx, nor ever knew dismay, + Nor bowed to externalities the knee, + Nor took a guerdon from the fleeting day; + But dwelt on earth in that eternity + Where Truth and Beauty shine with blended ray.[2] + +Friedrich Schiller, the greatest of German dramatic poets, was born +November 10, 1759, at Marbach in Swabia. His father was an officer in +the army which the Duke of Wuerttemberg sent out to fight the Prussians +in the Seven Years' War. Of his mother, whose maiden name was Dorothea +Kodweis, not much is known. She was a devout woman who lived in the +cares and duties of a household that sometimes felt the pinch of +poverty. After the war the family lived a while at the village of +Lorch, where Captain Schiller was employed as recruiting officer. From +there they moved, in 1766, to Ludwigsburg, where the extravagant duke +Karl Eugen had taken up his residence and was bent on creating a sort +of Swabian Versailles. Here little Fritz went to school and was +sometimes taken to the gorgeous ducal opera, where he got his first +notions of scenic illusion. The hope of his boyhood was to become a +preacher, but this pious aspiration was brought to naught by the offer +of free tuition in an academy which the duke had started at his Castle +Solitude near Stuttgart. + +This academy was Schiller's world from his fourteenth to his +twenty-first year. It was an educational experiment conceived in a +rather liberal spirit as a training-school for public service. At +first the duke had the boys taught under his own eye at Castle +Solitude, where they were subjected to a strict military discipline. +There being no provision for the study of divinity, Schiller was put +into law, with the result that he floundered badly for two years. In +1775 the institution was augmented by a faculty of medicine and +transferred to Stuttgart, where it was destined to a short-lived +career under the name of the Karlschule. Schiller gladly availed +himself of the permission to change from law to medicine, which he +thought would be more in harmony with his temperament and literary +ambitions. And so it proved. As a student of medicine he made himself +at home in the doctrines and practices of the day, and for several +years after he left school he thought now and then of returning to the +profession of medicine. + +For posterity the salient fact of his long connection with the +Karlschule is that he was there converted into a fiery radical and a +banner-bearer of the literary revolution. Just how it came about is +hard to explain in detail. The school was designed to produce docile +and contented members of the social order; in him it bred up a savage +and relentless critic of that order. The result may be ascribed +partly, no doubt, to the natural reaction of an ardent, liberty-loving +temperament against a system of rigid discipline and petty espionage. +The _eleves_--French was the official language of the school--were not +supposed to read dangerous books, and their rooms were often searched +for contraband literature. But they easily found ways to evade the +rule and enjoy the savor of forbidden fruit. + +[Illustration: FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER] + +So it was with Schiller: he read Rousseau more or less, the early +works of Goethe, Lessing's _Emilia Galotti_, and plays by Klinger, +Leisewitz, Lenz and Wagner--all more or less revolutionary in spirit. +He also made the acquaintance of Shakespeare and steeped himself in +the spirit of antique heroism as he found it in Plutarch. + +Perhaps this reading would have made a radical of him even if he had +just then been enjoying the normal freedom of a German university +student. Be that as it may, the time came--it was about 1777--when the +young Schiller, faithfully pursuing his medical course and doing loyal +birthday orations in praise of the duke or the duke's mistress, was +not exactly what he seemed to be. Underneath the calm exterior there +was a soul on fire with revolutionary passion. + +It was mainly in 1780--his last year in the Karlschule--that Schiller +wrote _The Robbers_, altogether the loudest explosion of the Storm and +Stress. The hero, Karl Moor, was conceived as a "sublime criminal." +Deceived by the machinations of his villainous brother Franz, he +becomes the captain of a band of outlaws and attempts by murder, arson +and robbery to right the wrongs of the social order. For a while he +believes that he is doing a noble work. When he learns how he has been +deluded he gives himself up to the law. The effect of the play is that +of tremendous power unchecked by any of the restraints of art. The +plot is incredible, the language tense with turbulent passion, and the +characters are extravagantly overdrawn. But the genius of the born +dramatist is there. It is all vividly seen and powerfully bodied +forth. What is more important, the play marks the birth of a new +type--the tragedy of fanaticism. We are left at the end with a +heightened feeling for the mysterious tangle of human destiny which +makes it possible for a really noble nature such as Karl Moor to go +thus disastrously wrong. + +Toward the end of 1780 Schiller left the academy and was made doctor +to a regiment of soldiers consisting largely of invalids. He dosed +them with drastic medicines according to his light, but the service +was disagreeable and the pay very small. To make a stir in the world +he borrowed money and published _The Robbers_ as a book for the +reader, with a preface in which he spoke rather slightingly of the +theatre. The book came out in the spring of 1781--with a rampant lion +and the motto _in Tirannos_ on the title-page. Ere long it came to the +attention of Dalberg, director of the theatre at Mannheim, who saw +its dramatic qualities and requested its author to revise it for the +stage. This Schiller readily consented to do. To please Dalberg he set +the action back from the eighteenth to the sixteenth century and made +many minor changes. The revised play was performed at Mannheim on +January 12, 1782, with ever-memorable success. The audience, assembled +from far and near, went wild with enthusiasm. No such triumph had been +achieved before on a German stage. The author himself saw the +performance, having come over from Stuttgart without leave of absence. +For this breach of discipline, or rather for a repetition of the +offense in May, he was sent to the guardhouse for a fortnight and +forbidden to write any more plays. The consequence was a clandestine +flight from a situation that had become intolerable. In September, +1782, he escaped from Stuttgart with his loyal friend Streicher and +took his way northward toward the Palatinate. He had set his hopes on +finding employment in Mannheim. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER'S FATHER AND MOTHER] + +Before leaving his native Swabia he had virtually completed a second +play dealing with the conspiracy of Count Fiesco at Genoa in the year +1547. He had also won his spurs as a poet and a critic. His _Anthology +for 1782_ contains a large number of short poems, some of them +evincing a rare talent for dramatic story-telling, others +foreshadowing the imaginative sweep and the warmth of feeling which +characterize the best poetic work of the later Schiller. Such, +notably, are the poems to Laura, in which the lover's raptures are +linked with the law of gravitation and the preestablished harmony of +the world. He also contributed several papers to the Wuerttemberg +_Repertorium_, especially a review of _The Robbers_ in which, +dissecting his own child with remorseless impartiality, he anticipated +nearly everything that critics were destined to urge against the play +during the next hundred years. Having left his post of duty and +being a military officer, Schiller was technically a deserter and had +reason to fear pursuit and arrest. At Mannheim his affairs went badly. +The politic Dalberg was not eager to befriend a youth who had offended +the powerful Duke of Wuerttemberg; so _Fiesco_ was rejected and its +author came into dire straits. Toward the close of the year he found a +welcome refuge at Bauerbach, where a house was put at his disposal by +his friend Frau von Wolzogen. Here he remained several months, +occupied mainly with a new play which came to be known as _Cabal and +Love_. He also sketched a historical tragedy, _Don Carlos_, being led +to the subject by his reading of St. Real's historical novel _Don +Carlos_. During the first part of his stay at Bauerbach Schiller went +by the name of Dr. Ritter and wrote purposely misleading letters as to +his intended movements. By the summer of 1783, however, it had become +apparent that the Duke of Wuerttemberg was not going to make trouble. +Relieved of anxiety on this score, and not having had very good +success of late with his theatre, Dalberg reopened negotiations with +Schiller, who was easily persuaded to emerge from his hiding-place and +become theatre-poet at Mannheim under contract for one year. + +During this year at Mannheim _Fiesco_ and _Cabal and Love_ were put on +the stage and published. The former is a quasi-historical tragedy of +intriguing ambition, ending--in the original version--with the death +of Fiesco at the hands of the fanatical republican Verrina. While +there is much to admire in its abounding vigor and its picturesque +details, _Fiesco_ lacks artistic finality and is the least interesting +of Schiller's early plays. Much more important is _Cabal and Love_, a +domestic tragedy that has held the stage to this day and is generally +regarded as the best of its kind in the eighteenth-century German +drama. Class conflict is the tragic element. A maid of low degree and +her high-minded, aristocratic lover are done to death by a miserable +court intrigue. Far more than in _The Robbers_ Schiller was here +writing with his eye on the facts. Much Wuerttemberg history is thinly +disguised in this drastic comment on the crimes, follies and +banalities of German court life under the Old Regime. + +Notwithstanding his success as a playwright and his receipt of the +honorable title of Councilor from the Duke of Weimar, Schiller was +unhappy at Mannheim. Sickness, debt and loneliness oppressed him, +making creative work well-nigh impossible. In June, 1784, when the sky +was looking very black, he received a heartening letter from a quartet +of unknown admirers in Leipzig, one of whom was Gottfried Koerner. +Schiller was deeply touched. In his hunger for sympathy and friendship +he resolved to leave Mannheim and seek out these good people who had +shown such a kindly interest in him. Fortunately Koerner was a man of +some means and was able to help not only with words but with cash. So +it came about that in the spring of 1785 Schiller forsook Mannheim, +which had become as a prison to him, and went to Leipzig. Thence, +after a short sojourn, he followed Koerner to Dresden. The relation +between the two men developed into a warm and mutually inspiring +friendship. A feeling of jubilant happiness took possession of +Schiller and soon found expression in the _Song to Joy_, wherein a +kiss of love and sympathy is offered to all mankind. + +[Illustration: 1. SCHILLER'S HOUSE IN WEIMAR] + +[Illustration: 2. SCHILLER'S BIRTHPLACE IN MARBACH] + +During his two years' sojourn in Dresden Schiller was mainly occupied +with the editing of a magazine, the _Thalia_, and with the completion +of _Don Carlos_, the first of his plays in blank verse. Hitherto he +had written with his eye on the stage, and in the savage spirit of the +Storm and Stress. Now, however, the higher ambition of the dramatic +poet began to assert itself. His views of life were changing, and his +nature craved a freer and nobler self-expression than was possible in +the "three hours' traffic of the stage." He had begun _Don Carlos_ at +Bauerbach, intending to make it a love-tragedy in a royal household +and incidentally to scourge the Spanish inquisition. Little by little, +however, the centre of his interest shifted from the lovesick Carlos +to the quixotic dreamer Posa, and the result was that the love-tragedy +gradually grew into a tragedy of political idealism with Posa for its +hero. As finally completed in the summer of 1787, _Don Carlos_ had +twice the length of an ordinary stage-play and, withal, a certain lack +of artistic unity. But its sonorous verse, its fine phrasing of large +ideas, and its noble dignity of style settled forever the question of +Schiller's power as a dramatic poet. The third act especially is +instinct with the best idealism of the eighteenth century. + +After _Don Carlos_ Schiller wrote no more plays for some nine years, +being occupied in the interval chiefly with history and philosophy. +His dramatic work had interested him more especially in the sixteenth +century. At Dresden he began to read history with great avidity and +found it very appetizing. What he most cared for, evidently, was not +the annals of warfare or the growth of institutions, but the +psychology of the great man. He was an ardent lover of freedom, both +political and intellectual, and took keen delight in tracing its +progress. On the other hand, play-writing had its disadvantages. Thus +far it had brought him more of notoriety than of solid fame, and his +income was so small that he was dependent on Koerner's generosity. To +escape from this irksome position he decided to try his fortune in +Thuringia. Going over to Weimar, in the summer of 1787, he was well +received by Herder and Wieland--Goethe was just then in Italy--and +presently he settled down to write a history of the Dutch Rebellion. +His plan looked forward to six volumes, but only one was ever written. +It was published in 1788 under the title of _The Defection of the +Netherlands_ and led to its author's appointment as unsalaried +professor of history at the University of Jena. He began to lecture in +the spring of 1789. + +Meanwhile he had taken up the study of the Greek poets and found them +very edifying and sanative--just the influence that he needed to +clarify his judgment and correct his earlier vagaries of taste. He was +fascinated by the _Odyssey_ and in a mood of fleeting enthusiasm he +resolved to read nothing but the ancients for the next two years. +He translated the _Iphigenia in Aulis_ of Euripides and a part of _The +Phenician Women_. Out of this newborn ardor grew two important poems, +_The Gods of Greece_ and _The Artists_; the former an elegy on the +decay of Greek polytheism conceived as a loss of beauty to the world, +the latter a philosophic retrospect of human history wherein the +evolutionary function of art is glorified. At the same time he revived +the dormant _Thalia_ and used its columns for the continued +publication of _The Ghost-seer_, a pot-boiling novel which he had +begun at Dresden. It is Schiller's one serious attempt at prose +fiction. His initial purpose was to describe an elaborate and +fine-spun intrigue, devised by mysterious agents of the Church of +Rome, for the winning over of a Protestant German prince. The story +begins in a promising way, and the later portions contain fine +passages of narrative and character-drawing. But its author presently +began to feel that it was unworthy of him and left it unfinished. + +[Illustration: MONUMENT TO SCHILLER (Berlin) _Sculptor, Reinhold +Begas_] + +On the 22d of February, 1790, Schiller was married to Lotte von +Lengefeld, with whom he lived most happily the rest of his days. His +letters of this period tell of a quiet joy such as he had not known +before. And then, suddenly, his fair prospects were clouded by the +disastrous breakdown of his health. An attack of pneumonia in the +winter of 1790-1791 came near to a fatal ending, and hardly had he +recovered from that before he was prostrated by a second illness worse +than the first. He bade farewell to his friends, and the report went +abroad that he was dead. After a while he rallied, but never again to +be strong and well. From this time forth he must be thought of as a +semi-invalid, doomed to a very cautious mode of living and expectant +of an early death. It was to be a fourteen years' battle between a +heroic soul and an ailing body. + +For a while, owing to the forced cessation of the literary work on +which his small income depended, he was in great distress for lack of +money. His wife, while of noble family, had brought nothing but +herself to the marriage partnership. And then, just as in the dark +days at Mannheim in 1784, help seemed to come from the clouds. Two +Danish noblemen, ardent admirers quite unknown to him personally, +heard of his painful situation and offered him a pension of a thousand +thalers a year for three years. No conditions whatever were attached +to the gift; he was simply to follow his inclination, free from all +anxiety about a livelihood. Without hesitation he accepted the gift +and thus found himself, for the first time in his life, really free to +do as he chose. What he chose was to use his freedom for a grapple +with Kant's philosophy. Today this seems a strange choice for a sick +poet, but let Schiller himself explain what lay in his mind. He wrote +to Koerner: + +"It is precisely for the sake of artistic creation that I wish to +philosophize. Criticism must repair the damage it has done me. And it +has done me great damage indeed; for I miss in myself these many years +that boldness, that living fire, that was mine before I knew a rule. +Now I see myself in the act of creating and fashioning; I observe the +play of inspiration, and my imagination works less freely, since it is +conscious of being watched. But if I once reach the point where +artistic procedure becomes natural, like education for the +well-nurtured man, then my fancy will get back its old freedom and +know no bounds but those of its own making." + +From these words we understand the nature of Schiller's enterprise--he +wished to fathom the laws of beauty. It seemed to him that beauty +could not be altogether a matter of changing taste, opinion, and +fashion; that somehow or other it must be grounded in eternal laws +either of the external world or of human nature. He felt, too, that a +knowledge of these laws, could it once become second nature, would be +very helpful to him as a dramatic poet. Whether he was right in so +thinking is a question too large to be discussed here, nor can we +follow him in the details of his esthetic speculation. The subject is +too abstruse to be dispatched in a few words. Suffice it to say that a +number of minor papers, the most important being _On Winsomeness and +Dignity (Ueber Anmut and Wuerde)_ and _On the Sublime_, prepared the way +for a more popular exposition of his views in the _Letters on Esthetic +Education_ and in the memorable essay _On Naive and Sentimental +Poetry_, which deserves to be called, next to Lessing's _Laocoon_, the +weightiest critical essay of the eighteenth century. The Letters +contain a ripe and pleasing statement of Schiller's philosophy in its +relation to the culture-problems of his epoch. + +Along with these philosophic studies Schiller found time for much work +more closely related to his professorship of history. To say nothing +of his minor historical writings, he completed, in 1793, his _History +of the Thirty Years' War_. It appeared in successive numbers of +Goeschen's _Ladies' Calendar_, a fact which in itself indicates that it +was not conceived and should not be judged as a monument of research. +The aim was to tell the story of the great war in a readable style. +And in this Schiller succeeded, especially in the parts relating to +his hero, the Swedish king Gustav Adolf. Over Schiller's merit as a +historian there has been much debate, and good critics have caviled at +his sharp contrasts and his lack of care in matters of detail. But the +great fact remains that the _Defection of the Netherlands_ and the +_Thirty Years' War_ are the earliest historical classics in the German +language. Schiller was the first German to make literature out of +history. + +The year 1794 brought about a closer relation between Schiller and +Goethe, an event of prime moment in the lives of both. On Goethe's +return from Italy, in the summer of 1788, Schiller was introduced to +him, but the meeting had no immediate consequences. In fact, Schiller +had quietly made up his mind not to like the man whom, for a whole +year, he had heard constantly lauded by the Weimar circle. He thought +of Goethe as a proud, self-centred son of fortune, with whom +friendship would be impossible. Goethe, on the other hand, was not +drawn to the author of _The Robbers_. He looked on the popularity of +the detestable play as a shocking evidence of depraved public taste +and was not aware how its author had changed since writing it. So it +came about that, for some six years, the two men lived as neighbors in +space but strangers in the spirit. At last, however, an accidental +meeting in Jena led to an interchange of views and prepared the way +for the most memorable of literary friendships. + +By this time Schiller had undertaken the editorship of a new literary +magazine to be called _Die Horen_, which was to be financed by the +enterprising publisher Cotta in Stuttgart. The plan was that it should +eclipse all previous undertakings of its kind. But it was to eschew +politics. Germany was just then agitated by the fierce passions of the +revolutionary epoch, and this excitement was regarded by Schiller as +ominous for the nation. There was need of esthetic education. So he +proposed to keep the _Horen_ clear of politics and try to divert the +minds of men into the serener regions of letters and art. To Goethe, +who also hated the Revolution, this was a highly acceptable program. +So he readily undertook to write for the _Horen_, and thus he and +Schiller soon became linked together in the public mind as allied +champions of a cause. It is for this reason that the Germans are wont +to call them the Dioscuri. + +By way of signalizing their community of interest the Dioscuri +presently began to write satirical distichs at the expense of men and +tendencies that they did not like. For example: + + Gentlemen, keep your seats! for the curs but covet your places, + Elegant places to hear all the other dogs bark. + +The making of these more or less caustic epigrams amused them. +Sometimes one would suggest the topic and the other write the distich; +again, one would do the hexameter, the other the pentameter. They +agreed that neither should ever claim separate property in the +_Xenia_, as they were called. The number grew apace, until it reached +nearly a thousand. About half the number on hand were published in +1797 in Schiller's _Musenalmanach_ and had the effect of setting all +Germany agog with curiosity, rage or solemn glee. Some of those hit +replied in kind or in vicious attacks, and for a little while there +was great excitement. But having discharged their broadside Goethe and +Schiller did not further pursue the ignoble warfare. They wisely came +to the conclusion that the best way to elevate the public taste was +not to assail the bad in mordant personal epigrams, but to exemplify +the good in creative work. + +After his nine years of fruitful wandering in other fields Schiller +returned at last, in 1796, to dramatic poetry. Once more it came in +his way to write for the stage, since Goethe was now director of the +Weimar theatre. After some hesitation between _Wallenstein_ and _The +Knights of Malta_, both of which had long haunted his thoughts, he +decided in favor of the former. It occupied him for three years and +finally left his hands as a long affair in three parts. Yet it is not +a trilogy in the proper sense, but a play in ten acts, preceded by a +dramatic prelude. At first Schiller found the material refractory. The +actual Wallenstein had never exhibited truly heroic qualities of any +kind, and his history involved only the cold passions of ambition, +envy, and vindictiveness. Whether he was really guilty of treason was +a moot question which admitted of no partisan treatment. But +Schiller's genius triumphed splendidly over the difficulties inherent +in the subject. In the _Camp_ we get a picturesque view of the motley +soldatesca which was the basis of Wallenstein's power and prestige. In +_The Piccolomini_ we see the nature of the dangerous game he is +playing, and in _Wallenstein's Death_ the unheroic hero becomes very +impressive in his final discomfiture and his pitiable taking-off. The +love-tragedy of Max and Thekla casts a mellow light of romance over +the otherwise austere political action. + +[Illustration: 1. THE MILITARY ACADEMY IN STUTTGART WHERE SCHILLER WAS +EDUCATED] + +[Illustration: 2. THE THEATRE IN MANNHEIM IN 1782 WHERE SCHILLER'S +"THE ROBBERS," "FIESCO," AND "LOVE AND INTRIGUE" WERE FIRST PLAYED] + +During the years 1795-1800 Schiller wrote a large number of short +poems in which he gave expression to his matured philosophy of life. +His best ballads also belong to this period. Pure song he did not +often attempt, his philosophic bent predisposing him to what the +Germans call the lyric of thought. Perhaps his invalidism had +something to do with it; at any rate the total number of his singable +lyrics, such as _The Maiden's Lament_, is but small. As a poet of +reflection he is at his best in _The Ideal and Life, The Walk, The +Eleusinian Festival_, and the more popular _Song of the Bell_. The +first-named of these four, at first called _The Realm of Shades_, is a +masterpiece of high thinking, charged with warm emotion and bodied +forth in gorgeous imagery. Its doctrine is that only by taking refuge +in the realm of the Ideal can we escape from the tyranny of the flesh, +the bondage of Nature's law, the misery of struggle and defeat. Yet it +is not a doctrine of quietism that is here preached, as if inner peace +were the supreme thing in life, but rather one of hopeful endeavor. +_The Walk_, one of the finest elegies in the German language, is a +pensive retrospect of the origins of civilization, loving +contemplation of Nature giving rise to reflections on man and his +estate. _The Song of the Bell_, probably the best known of all +Schiller's poems, gives expression to his feeling for the dignity of +labor and for the poetry of man's social life. Perhaps we may say that +the heart of his message is found in this stanza of _The Words of +Illusion_: + + And so, noble soul, forget not the law, + And to the true faith be leal; + What ear never heard and eye never saw, + The Beautiful, the True, they are real. + Look not without, as the fool may do; + It is in thee and ever created anew. + +In 1797--_Hermann and Dorothea_ was just then under way--Goethe and +Schiller interchanged views by letter on the subject of epic poetry in +general and the ballad in particular. As they had both written ballads +in their youth, it was but natural that they should be led to fresh +experiments with the species. So they both began to make ballads for +next year's _Musenalmanach_. Schiller contributed five, among them the +famous _Diver_ and _The Cranes of Ibycus_. In after years he wrote +several more, of which the best, perhaps, are _The Pledge_, a stirring +version of the Damon and Pythias story, and _The Battle with the +Dragon_, which, however, was called a romanza instead of a ballad. The +interest of all these poems turns mainly, of course, on the story, but +also, in no small degree, on the splendid art which the poet displays. +They are quite unlike any earlier German ballads, owing nothing to the +folk-song and making no use of the uncanny, the gruesome, or the +supernatural. There is no mystery in them, no resort to verbal tricks +such as Buerger had employed in _Lenore_. The subjects are not derived +from German folk-lore, but from Greek legend or medieval romance. +Their great merit is the strong and vivid, yet always noble, style +with which the details are set forth. + +[Illustration: THE CHURCH IN WHICH SCHILLER WAS MARRIED] + +We come back now to the province of art in which Schiller himself felt +that his strength lay, and to which he devoted nearly all his strength +during his remaining years. The very successful performance of the +complete _Wallenstein_ in the spring of 1799 added greatly to his +prestige, for discerning judges could see that something extraordinary +had been achieved. Weimar had by this time become the acknowledged +centre of German letters, and its modest little theatre now took on +fresh glory. Schiller had made himself very useful as a translator and +adapter, and Goethe was disposed to lean heavily on his friend's +superior knowledge of stage-craft. In order to be nearer to the +theatre and its director, Schiller moved over to Weimar in December, +1799, and took up his abode in what is now called the Schillerstrasse. +He was already working at _Mary Stuart_, which was finished the +following spring and first played on June 14, 1800. + +In _Mary Stuart_, as in _Wallenstein_, Schiller focused his light on a +famous personage who was the subject of passionate controversy. But of +course he did not wish to make a Catholic play, or a Protestant play, +or to have its effect dependent in any way on the spectator's +pre-assumed attitude toward the purely political questions involved. +So he decided to omit Mary's trial and to let the curtain rise on her +as a prisoner waiting for the verdict of her judges. This meant, +however, according to his conception of the tragic art, a pathetic +rather than a tragic situation; for the queen's fate would be a +foregone conclusion, and she could do nothing to avert it. To give her +the semblance of a tragic guilt he resorted to three unhistorical +inventions: First, an attempt to escape, with resulting complicity in +the act of the murderous Catholic fanatic Mortimer; second, a putative +love on the part of Mary for Leicester, who would use his great +influence to bring about a personal interview between her and +Elizabeth; and, finally, the meeting of the two queens, in which +Mary's long pent-up passion would get the better of her discretion and +betray her into a mortal insult of her rival. In reality, however, the +meeting of the two queens, while theatrically very effective, is not +the true climax of the play. That comes when Mary conquers her +rebellious spirit and accepts her ignominious fate as a divinely +appointed expiation for long-past sins. The play thus becomes a +tragedy of moral self-conquest in the presence of an undeserved death. + +Next in order came _The Maid of Orleans_, expressly called by its +author a romantic tragedy. It is a "rescue" of the Maid's character. +Shakespeare had depicted her as a witch, Voltaire as a vulgar fraud. +Schiller conceives her as a genuine ambassadress of God, or rather of +the Holy Virgin. Not only does he accept at its face value the +tradition of her "voices," her miraculous clairvoyance, her magic +influence on the French troops; but he makes her fight in the ranks +with men and gives to her a terrible avenging sword, before which no +Englishman can stand. But she, too, had to have her tragic guilt. So +Schiller makes her supernatural power depend--by the Virgin's express +command--on her renunciation of the love of man. A fleeting passion +for the English general Lionel, conceived on the battle-field in the +fury of combat, fills her with remorse and the sense of treason to her +high mission. For a while she is deprived of her self-confidence, and +with it of her supernatural power. There follow scenes of bitter +humiliation, until her expiation is complete. At last, purified by +suffering, she recovers her divine strength, breaks her fetters, +brings victory once more to the disheartened French soldiers, and dies +in glory on the field of battle. One sees that it is not at all the +real Jeanne d'Arc that Schiller depicts, but a glorified heroine +invested with divine power and called to be the savior of her country. +Here, for the first time in German drama, the passion of patriotism +plays an important part. + +After the completion of _The Maid of Orleans_ Schiller was minded to +try his hand on a tragedy "in the strictest Greek form." He had been +deeply impressed by the art of Sophocles and wished to create +something which should produce on the modern mind the effect of a +Greek tragedy, with its simple structure, its few characters, and +above all its chorus. But the choice of a subject was not easy, and +for several months he occupied himself with other matters. He made a +German version of Gozzi's _Turandot_ and took notes for a tragedy +about Perkin Warbeck. In the summer of 1802 he decided definitely to +carry out his plan of vying with the Greeks. _The Bride of Messina_ +was finished in February, 1803. While he was working at it there +arrived one day--it was in November, 1802--a patent of nobility from +the chancelry of the Holy Roman Empire. It may be noted in passing +that several years before he had been made an honorary citizen of the +French Republic, his name having been presented at the same time with +those of Washington, Wilberforce, and Kosciusko. + +Among the later plays of Schiller _The Bride of Messina_ is the one +which shows his stately poetic diction at its best, but has proved +least acceptable on the stage. As we have seen, it was an artistic +experiment. A medieval prince of Messina has an ominous dream which is +interpreted by an Arab astrologer to mean that a daughter to be born +will cause the death of his two sons, thus making an end of his +dynasty. When the child is born he orders it put to death. But +meanwhile his queen has had a dream of contrary import, and thereby +saves the life of her new-born daughter, but has her brought up remote +from the court. In time the two quarrelsome brothers, ignorant that +they have a sister, fall in love with the girl. One slays the other in +a frenzy of jealous rage, the other commits suicide in remorse. This +invention can hardly be called plausible. Indeed, so far as the mere +fable is concerned, it is a house of cards which would collapse any +moment at the breath of common sense. One must remember in reading the +play that common sense was not one of the nine muses. The dreams take +the place of the Delphic oracle, and the Greek chorus is represented +by two semi-choruses, the retainers of the quarreling brothers, who +speak their parts by the mouth of a leader, at one moment taking part +in the action, at another delivering the detached comment of the ideal +spectator. There is much splendid poetry in these pseudo-choruses, but +it was impossible that such a scheme should produce the effect of +the Greek choral dance. + +Did Schiller feel that in _The Bride of Messina_ he had wandered a +little too far away from the vital concerns of modern life? Probably, +for he next set to work on a play which should be popular in the best +sense of the word--_William Tell_. It is his one play with a happy +ending and has always been a prime favorite on the stage. The hero is +the Swiss people, and the action idealizes the legendary uprising of +the Forest Cantons against their Austrian governors. There are really +three separate actions: the conspiracy, the love-affair of Bertha and +Rudenz, the exploits of William Tell. All, however, contribute to the +common end, which is the triumph of the Swiss people over their +oppressors. The exposition is superb, there is rapidity of movement, +variety, picturesqueness, the glamor of romance; and the feelings +evoked are such as warm and keep warm the cockles of the heart. When +the famous actor Iffland received the manuscript of the first act, in +February, 1804, he wrote: + +"I have read, devoured, bent my knee; and my heart, my tears, my +rushing blood, have paid ecstatic homage to your spirit, to your +heart. Oh, more! Soon, soon more! Pages, scraps--whatever you can +send. I tender heart and hand to your genius. What a work! What +wealth, power, poetic beauty, and irresistible force! God keep you! +Amen." + +With _Tell_ off his hands Schiller next threw his tireless energy on a +Russian subject--the story of Dmitri, reputed son of Ivan the +Terrible. The reading, note-taking and planning proved a long +laborious task, and there were many interruptions. In November, 1804, +the hereditary Prince of Weimar brought home a Russian bride, Maria +Paulovna, and for her reception he wrote _The Homage of the Arts_--a +slight affair which served its purpose well. The reaction from these +Russophil festivities left him in a weakened condition, and, feeling +unequal to creative effort, he translated Racine's _Phedre_ into +German verse, finishing it in February, 1805. Then he returned with +great zest to his Russian play _Demetrius_, of which enough was +written to indicate that it might have become his masterpiece. But the +flame had burnt itself out. Toward the end of April he took a cold +which led to a violent fever with delirium. The end came on May 9, +1805. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER AT THE COURT OF WEIMAR] + +No attempt can here be made at a general estimate of Schiller's +dramatic genius. The serious poetic drama, such as he wrote in his +later years, is no longer in favor anywhere. In Germany, as in our own +land, the temper of the time is on the whole hostile to that form of +art. We demand, very properly, a drama attuned to the life of the +present; one occupied, as we say, with living issues. Yet Schiller is +very popular on the German stage. After the lapse of a century, and +notwithstanding the fact that he _seems_ to speak to us from the +clouds, he holds his own. Why is this? It is partly because of a +quality of his art that has been called his "monumental +fresco-painting"; that is, his strong and luminous portraiture of the +great historic forces that have shaped the destiny of nations. These +forces are matters of the spirit, of the inner life; and they persist +from age to age, but little affected by the changing fashion of the +theatre. The reader of Schiller soon comes to feel that he deals with +issues that are alive because they are immortal. + +Another important factor in his classicity is the suggestion that goes +out from his idealized personality. German sentiment has set him on a +high pedestal and made a hero of him, so that his word is not exactly +as another man's word. Something of this was felt by those about him +even in his lifetime. Says Karoline von Wolzogen: "High seriousness +and the winsome grace of a pure and noble soul were always present in +Schiller's conversation; in listening to him one walked as among the +changeless stars of heaven and the flowers of earth." This is the +tribute of a partial friend, but it describes very well the impression +produced by Schiller's writings. His love of freedom and beauty, his +confidence in reason, his devotion to the idea of humanity, seem to +exhale from his work and to invest it with a peculiar distinction. His +plays and poems are a priceless memento to the spirit of a great and +memorable epoch. Hundreds of writers have said their say about him, +but no better word has been spoken than the noble tribute of Goethe: + + For he was ours. So let the note of pride + Hush into silence all the mourner's ruth; + In our safe harbor he was fain to bide + And build for aye, after the storm of youth. + We saw his mighty spirit onward stride + To eternal realms of Beauty and of Truth; + While far behind him lay fantasmally + The vulgar things that fetter you and me. + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Translated by Edward, Lord Lytton.] + +[Footnote 2: This Sonnet, by the author of this sketch of Schiller's +life, was written for the Chicago Schiller Celebration of 1905, but +has not been printed before. EDITOR.] + + * * * * * + + + + +POEMS + + +[All poems in this section are translations by Edward, Lord Lytton, +and appear by permission of George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., London.] + + * * * * * + +TO THE IDEAL (1795) + + Then wilt thou, with thy fancies holy-- + Wilt thou, faithless, fly from me? + With thy joy, thy melancholy, + Wilt thou thus relentless flee? + O Golden Time, O Human May, + Can nothing, Fleet One, thee restraint? + Must thy sweet river glide away + Into the eternal Ocean Main? + + The suns serene are lost and vanish'd + That wont the path of youth to gild, + And all the fair Ideals banish'd + From that wild heart they whilome fill'd. + Gone the divine and sweet believing + In dreams which Heaven itself unfurl'd! + What godlike shapes have years bereaving + Swept from this real work-day world! + + As once, with tearful passion fired, + The Cyprian Sculptor clasp'd the stone, + Till the cold cheeks, delight-inspired, + Blush'd--to sweet life the marble grown: + So youth's desire for Nature!--round + The Statue so my arms I wreathed, + Till warmth and life in mine it found, + And breath that poets breathe--it breathed; + + With my own burning thoughts it burn'd;-- + Its silence stirr'd to speech divine;-- + Its lips my glowing kiss return'd-- + Its heart in beating answer'd mine! + How fair was then the flower--the tree!-- + How silver-sweet the fountain's fall! + The soulless had a soul to me! + My life its own life lent to all! + + The Universe of things seem'd swelling + The panting heart to burst its bound, + And wandering Fancy found a dwelling + In every shape, thought, deed, and sound. + Germ'd in the mystic buds, reposing, + A whole creation slumbered mute, + Alas, when from the buds unclosing, + How scant and blighted sprung the fruit! + + How happy in his dreaming error, + His own gay valor for his wing, + Of not one care as yet in terror + Did Youth upon his journey spring; + Till floods of balm, through air's dominion, + Bore upward to the faintest star-- + For never aught to that bright pinion + Could dwell too high, or spread too far. + + Though laden with delight, how lightly + The wanderer heavenward still could soar, + And aye the ways of life how brightly + The airy Pageant danced before! + Love, showering gifts (life's sweetest) down, + Fortune, with golden garlands gay, + And Fame, with starbeams for a crown, + And Truth, whose dwelling is the Day. + + Ah! midway soon lost evermore, + Afar the blithe companions stray; + In vain their faithless steps explore, + As one by one, they glide away. + Fleet Fortune was the first escaper-- + The thirst for wisdom linger'd yet; + But doubts with many a gloomy vapor + The sun-shape of the Truth beset! + + The holy crown which Fame was wreathing, + Behold! the mean man's temples wore, + And, but for one short spring-day breathing, + Bloom'd Love--the Beautiful--no more! + And ever stiller yet, and ever + The barren path more lonely lay, + Till scarce from waning Hope could quiver + A glance along the gloomy way. + + Who, loving, lingered yet to guide me, + When all her boon companions fled, + Who stands consoling yet beside me, + And follows to the House of Dread? + Thine FRIENDSHIP--thine the hand so tender, + Thine the balm dropping on the wound, + Thy task the load more lightly to render-- + O! earliest sought and soonest found! + + And Thou, so pleased, with her uniting, + To charm the soul-storm into peace, + Sweet TOIL, in toil itself delighting, + That more it labored, less could cease; + Tho' but by grains thou aid'st the pile + The vast Eternity uprears, + At least thou strik'st from Time the while + Life's debt--the minutes, days and years.[3] + + * * * * * + + + +THE VEILED IMAGE AT SAIS (1795) + + + A youth, whom wisdom's warm desire had lured + To learn the secret lore of Egypt's priests, + To Sais came. And soon, from step to step + Of upward mystery, swept his rapid soul! + Still ever sped the glorious Hope along, + Nor could the parch'd Impatience halt, appeased + By the calm answer of the Hierophant-- + "What have I, if I have not all," he sigh'd; + "And giv'st thou but the little and the more? + Does thy truth dwindle to the gauge of gold, + A sum that man may smaller or less small + Possess and count--subtract or add to--still? + Is not TRUTH _one_ and indivisible? + Take from the Harmony a single tone + A single tint take from the Iris bow-- + And lo! what once was all, is nothing--while + Fails to the lovely whole one tint or tone!" + + They stood within the temple's silent dome, + And, as the young man paused abrupt, his gaze + Upon a veil'd and giant IMAGE fell: + Amazed he turn'd unto his guide--"And what + Towers, yonder, vast beneath the veil?" + "THE TRUTH," + Answered the Priest. + "And have I for the truth + Panted and struggled with a lonely soul, + And yon the thin and ceremonial robe + That wraps her from mine eyes?" + Replied the Priest, + "There shrouds herself the still Divinity. + Hear, and revere her best: 'Till I this veil + Lift--may no mortal-born presume to raise; + And who with guilty and unhallow'd hand + Too soon profanes the Holy and Forbidden-- + He,' says the goddess."-- + "Well?" + "'SHALL SEE THE TRUTH!'" + "And wond'rous oracle; and hast _thou_ never + Lifted the veil?" + "No! nor desired to raise!" + "What! nor desired? O strange, incurious heart, + Here the thin barrier--there reveal'd the truth!" + Mildly return'd the priestly master: "Son, + More mighty than thou dream'st of, Holy Law + Spreads interwoven in yon slender web, + Air-light to touch--lead-heavy to the soul!" + + The young man, thoughtful, turn'd him to his home, + And the sharp fever of the Wish to Know + Robb'd night of sleep. Around his couch he roll'd, + Till midnight hatch'd resolve-- + "Unto the shrine!" + Stealthily on, the involuntary tread + Bears him--he gains the boundary, scales the wall, + And midway in the inmost, holiest dome, + Strides with adventurous step the daring man. + + Now halts he where the lifeless Silence sleeps + In the embrace of mournful Solitude;-- + Silence unstirr'd--save where the guilty tread + Call'd the dull echo from mysterious vaults! + + High from the opening of the dome above, + Came with wan smile the silver-shining moon. + And, awful as some pale presiding god, + Dim-gleaming through the hush of that large gloom, + In its wan veil the Giant Image stood. + + With an unsteady step he onward past, + Already touch'd the violating hand + The Holy--and recoil'd! a shudder thrill'd + His limbs, fire-hot and icy-cold in turns, + As if invisible arms would pluck the soul + Back from the deed. + "O miserable man! + What would'st thou?" (Thus within the inmost heart + Murmur'd the warning whisper.) "Wilt thou dare + The All-hallow'd to profane? 'No mortal-born' + (So spake the oracular word)--'may lift the veil + Till I myself shall raise!' Yet said it not-- + The same oracular word--'who lifts the veil + Shall see the truth?' Behind, be what there may, + I dare the hazard--I will lift the veil--" + Loud rang his shouting voice--"and I will see!" + "SEE!" + A lengthen'd echo, mocking, shrill'd again! + He spoke and rais'd the veil! And ask'st thou what + Unto the sacrilegious gaze lay bare? + I know not--pale and senseless, stretch'd before + The statue of the great Egyptian queen, + The priests beheld him at the dawn of day; + But what he saw, or what did there befall, + His lips reveal'd not. Ever from his heart + Was fled the sweet serenity of life, + And the deep anguish dug the early grave + "Woe--woe to him"--such were his warning words, + Answering some curious and impetuous brain, + "Woe--for her face shall charm him never more! + Woe--woe to him who treads through Guilt to TRUTH!" + + * * * * * + + + +THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL LIFE (1795) + + I + + Forever fair, forever calm and bright, + Life flies on plumage, zephyr-light, + For those who on the Olympian hill rejoice-- + Moons wane, and races wither to the tomb, + And 'mid the universal ruin, bloom + The rosy days of Gods-- + With Man, the choice, + Timid and anxious, hesitates between + The sense's pleasure and the soul's content; + While on celestial brows, aloft and sheen, + The beams of both are blent. + + II + + Seek'st thou on earth the life of Gods to share, + Safe in the Realm of Death?--beware + To pluck the fruits that glitter to thine eye; + Content thyself with gazing on their glow-- + Short are the joys Possession can bestow, + And in Possession sweet Desire will die. + 'Twas not the ninefold chain of waves that bound + Thy daughter, Ceres, to the Stygian river-- + She pluck'd the fruit of the unholy ground, + And so--was Hell's forever! + + III + + The Weavers of the Web--the Fates--but sway + The matter and the things of clay; + Safe from each change that Time to Matter gives, + Nature's blest playmate, free at will to stray + With Gods a god, amidst the fields of Day, + The FORM, the ARCHETYPE,[4] serenely lives. + Would'st thou soar heavenward on its joyous wing? + Cast from thee, Earth, the bitter and the real, + High from this cramp'd and dungeon being, spring + Into the Realm of the Ideal! + + IV + + Here, bathed, Perfection, in thy purest ray, + Free from the clogs and taints of clay, + Hovers divine the Archetypal Man! + Dim as those phantom ghosts of life that gleam + And wander voiceless by the Stygian stream,-- + Fair as it stands in fields Elysian, + Ere down to Flesh the Immortal doth descend:-- + If doubtful ever in the Actual life + Each contest--_here_ a victory crowns the end + Of every nobler strife. + + V + + Not from the strife itself to set thee free, + But more to nerve--doth Victory + Wave her rich garland from the Ideal clime. + Whate'er thy wish, the Earth has no repose-- + Life still must drag thee onward as it flows, + Whirling thee down the dancing surge of Time. + But when the courage sinks beneath the dull + Sense of its narrow limits--on the soul, + Bright from the hill-tops of the Beautiful, + Bursts the attained goal! + + VI + + If worth thy while the glory and the strife + Which fire the lists of Actual Life-- + The ardent rush to fortune or to fame, + In the hot field where Strength and Valor are, + And rolls the whirling thunder of the car, + And the world, breathless, eyes the glorious game-- + Then dare and strive--the prize can but belong + To him whose valor o'er his tribe prevails; + In life the victory only crowns the strong-- + He who is feeble fails. + + VII + + But Life, whose source, by crags around it pil'd, + Chafed while confin'd, foams fierce and wild, + Glides soft and smooth when once its streams expand, + When its waves, glassing in their silver play, + Aurora blent with Hesper's milder ray, + Gain the Still BEAUTIFUL--that Shadow-Land! + Here, contest grows but interchange of Love; + All curb is but the bondage of the Grace; + Gone is each foe,--Peace folds her wings above + Her native dwelling-place. + + VIII + + When, through dead stone to breathe a soul of light, + With the dull matter to unite + The kindling genius, some great sculptor glows; + Behold him straining every nerve intent-- + Behold how, o'er the subject element, + The stately THOUGHT its march laborious goes! + For never, save to Toil untiring, spoke + The unwilling Truth from her mysterious well-- + The statue only to the chisel's stroke + Wakes from its marble cell. + + IX + + But onward to the Sphere of Beauty--go + Onward, O Child of Art! and, lo, + Out of the matter which thy pains control + The Statue springs!--not as with labor wrung + From the hard block, but as from Nothing sprung-- + Airy and light--the offspring of the soul! + The pangs, the cares, the weary toils it cost + Leave not a trace when once the work is done-- + The Artist's human frailty merged and lost + In Art's great victory won! + + X + + If human Sin confronts the rigid law + Of perfect Truth and Virtue, awe + Seizes and saddens thee to see how far + Beyond thy reach, Perfection;--if we test + By the Ideal of the Good, the best, + How mean our efforts and our actions are! + This space between the Ideal of man's soul + And man's achievement, who hath ever past? + An ocean spreads between us and that goal + Where anchor ne'er was cast! + + XI + + But fly the boundary of the Senses--live + The Ideal life free Thought can give; + And, lo, the gulf shall vanish, and the chill + Of the soul's impotent despair be gone! + And with divinity thou sharest the throne, + Let but divinity become thy will! + Scorn not the Law--permit its iron band + The sense (it cannot chain the soul) to thrall. + Let man no more the will of Jove withstand, + And Jove the bolt lets fall! + + XII + + If, in the woes of Actual Human Life-- + If thou could'st see the serpent strife + Which the Greek Art has made divine in stone-- + Could'st see the writhing limbs, the livid cheek, + Note every pang, and hearken every shriek + Of some despairing lost Laocoon, + The human nature would thyself subdue + To share the human woe before thine eye-- + Thy cheek would pale, and all thy soul be true + To Man's great Sympathy. + + XIII + + But in the Ideal Realm, aloof and far, + Where the calm Art's pure dwellers are, + Lo, the Laocoon writhes, but does not groan. + Here, no sharp grief the high emotion knows-- + Here, suffering's self is made divine, and shows + The brave resolve of the firm soul alone: + Here, lovely as the rainbow on the dew + Of the spent thunder-cloud, to Art is given, + Gleaming through Grief's dark veil, the peaceful blue + Of the sweet Moral Heaven. + + XIV + + So, in the glorious parable, behold + How, bow'd to mortal bonds, of old + Life's dreary path divine Alcides trod: + The hydra and the lion were his prey, + And to restore the friend he loved today, + He went undaunted to the black-brow'd God; + And all the torments and the labors sore + Wroth Juno sent--the meek majestic One, + With patient spirit and unquailing, bore, + Until the course was run-- + + XV + + Until the God cast down his garb of clay, + And rent in hallowing flame away + The mortal part from the divine--to soar + To the empyreal air! Behold him spring + Blithe in the pride of the unwonted wing, + And the dull matter that confined before + Sinks downward, downward, downward as a dream! + Olympian hymns receive the escaping soul, + And smiling Hebe, from the ambrosial stream, + Fills for a God the bowl! + + * * * * * + + + +GENIUS (1795) + + Do I believe, thou ask'st, the Master's word, + The Schoolman's shibboleth that binds the herd? + To the soul's haven is there but one chart? + Its peace a problem to be learned by art? + On system rest the happy and the good? + To base the temple must the props be wood? + Must I distrust the gentle law, imprest, + To guide and warn, by Nature on the breast, + Till, squared to rule the instinct of the soul,-- + Till the School's signet stamp the eternal scroll, + Till in one mold some dogma hath confined + The ebb and flow--the light waves--of the mind? + Say thou, familiar to these depths of gloom, + Thou, safe ascended from the dusty tomb, + Thou, who hast trod these weird Egyptian cells-- + Say--if Life's comfort with yon mummies dwells!-- + Say--and I grope--with saddened steps indeed-- + But on, thro' darkness, if to Truth it lead! + + Nay, Friend, thou know'st the golden time--the age + Whose legends live in many a poet's page? + When heavenlier shapes with Man walked side by side, + And the chaste Feeling was itself a guide; + Then the great law, alike divine amid + Suns bright in Heaven, or germs in darkness hid-- + That silent law--(call'd whether by the name + Of Nature or Necessity, the same), + To that deep sea, the heart, its movement gave-- + Sway'd the full tide, and freshened the free wave. + Then sense unerring--because unreproved-- + True as the finger on the dial moved, + Half-guide, half-playmate, of Earth's age of youth, + The sportive instinct of Eternal Truth. + Then, nor Initiate nor Profane were known; + Where the Heart felt--there Reason found a throne: + Not from the dust below, but life around + Warm Genius shaped what quick Emotion found. + One rule, like light, for every bosom glowed, + Yet hid from all the fountain whence it flowed. + But, gone that blessed Age!--our wilful pride + Has lost, with Nature, the old peaceful Guide. + Feeling, no more to raise us and rejoice, + Is heard and honored as a Godhead's voice; + And, disenhallowed in its eldest cell + The Human Heart--lies mute the Oracle, + Save where the low and mystic whispers thrill + Some listening spirit more divinely still. + There, in the chambers of the inmost heart, + There, must the Sage explore the Magian's art; + There, seek the long-lost Nature's steps to track, + Till, found once more, she gives him Wisdom back! + Hast thou--(O Blest, if so, whate'er betide!)-- + Still kept the Guardian Angel by thy side? + Can thy Heart's guileless childhood yet rejoice + In the sweet instinct with its warning voice? + Does Truth yet limn upon untroubled eyes, + Pure and serene, her world of Iris-dies? + Rings clear the echo which her accent calls + Back from the breast, on which the music falls? + In the calm mind is doubt yet hush'd--and will + That doubt tomorrow, as today, be still? + Will all these fine sensations in their play, + No censor need to regulate and sway? + Fear'st thou not in the insidious Heart to find + The source of Trouble to the limpid mind? + + No!--then thine Innocence thy Mentor be! + Science can teach thee naught--she learns from thee! + Each law that lends lame succor to the Weak-- + The cripple's crutch--the vigorous need not seek! + From thine own self thy rule of action draw; + That which thou dost--what charms thee--is thy Law, + And founds to every race a code sublime-- + What pleases Genius gives a Law to Time! + The Word--the Deed--all Ages shall command, + Pure if thy lip and holy if thy hand! + Thou, thou alone mark'st not within thy heart + The inspiring God whose Minister thou art, + Know'st not the magic of the mighty ring + Which bows the realm of Spirits to their King: + But meek, nor conscious of diviner birth, + Glide thy still footsteps thro' the conquered Earth! + + * * * * * + + + +VOTIVE TABLETS + +[Under this title Schiller arranged that more dignified and +philosophical portion of the small Poems published as Epigrams in the +_Musen Almanach_; which rather sought to point a general thought, than +a personal satire.--Many of these, however, are either wholly without +interest for the English reader, or express in almost untranslatable +laconism what, in far more poetical shapes, Schiller has elsewhere +repeated and developed. We, therefore, content ourselves with such a +selection as appears to us best suited to convey a fair notion of the +object and spirit of the class.--Translator] + + * * * * * + + +MOTTO TO THE VOTIVE TABLETS. + + What the God taught--what has befriended all + Life's ways, I place upon the Votive Wall. + + * * * * * + + +THE GOOD AND THE BEAUTIFUL + +(ZWEIERLEI WIRKUNGSARTEN) + + The Good's the Flower to Earth already given-- + The Beautiful, on Earth sows flowers from Heaven! + + * * * * * + + +VALUE AND WORTH + + If thou _hast_ something, bring thy goods--a fair return be thine; + If thou _art_ something, bring thy soul and interchange with mine. + + * * * * * + + +THE KEY + + To know _thyself_--in others self discern; + Wouldst thou know others? Read thyself--and learn! + + * * * * * + + +THE DIVISION OF RANKS + + Yes, in the moral world, as ours, we see + Divided grades--a Soul's Nobility; + By deeds their titles Commoners create-- + The loftier order are by birthright great.[5] + + * * * * * + + +TO THE MYSTIC + + Spreads Life's true mystery round us evermore, + Seen by no eye, it lies all eyes before. + + * * * * * + + +WISDOM AND PRUDENCE + + Wouldst thou the loftiest height of Wisdom gain? + On to the rashness, Prudence would disdain; + The purblind see but the receding shore, + Not that to which the bold wave wafts thee o'er! + + * * * * * + + +THE UNANIMITY + + Truth seek we both--Thou, in the life without thee and around; + I in the Heart within--by both can Truth alike be found; + The healthy eye can through the world the great Creator track-- + The healthy heart is but the glass which gives creation back. + + * * * * * + + +THE SCIENCE OF POLITICS + + All that thou dost be right--to that alone confine thy view, + And halt within the certain rule--the All that's right to do! + True zeal _the what already is_ would sound and perfect see; + False zeal would sound and perfect make the something that's to be! + + * * * * * + + +TO ASTRONOMERS + + Of the Nebulae and planets do not babble so to me; + What! is Nature only mighty inasmuch as you can see? + Inasmuch as you can measure her immeasurable ways, + As she renders world on world, sun and system to your gaze? + Though through space your object be the Sublimest to embrace, + Never the Sublime abideth--where you vainly search--in space! + + * * * * * + + +THE BEST GOVERNED STATE + + How the best state to know?--It is found out, + Like the best women--that least talked about. + + * * * * * + + +MY BELIEF + + What thy religion? Those thou namest--none! + None! Why?--Because I have religion! + + * * * * * + + +FRIEND AND FOE + + Dear is my friend--yet from my foe, as from my friend, comes good; + My friend shows what I _can_ do, and my foe shows what I _should_. + + * * * * * + + +LIGHT AND COLOR + + Dwell, Light, beside the changeless God--God spoke and Light began; + Come, thou, the ever-changing one--come, Color, down to Man! + + * * * * * + + +FORUM OF WOMEN + + Woman--to judge man rightly--do not scan + Each separate act;--pass judgment on the Man! + + * * * * * + + +GENIUS + + Intellect can repeat what's been fulfill'd, + And, aping Nature, as she buildeth--build; + O'er Nature's base can haughty Reason dare + To pile its lofty castle--in the air. + But only thine, O Genius, is the charge, + In Nature's kingdom Nature to enlarge! + + * * * * * + + +THE IMITATOR + + Good out of good--that art is known to all-- + But Genius from the bad the good can call; + Then, Mimic, not from leading-strings escaped, + Work'st but the matter that's already shaped + The already-shaped a nobler hand awaits-- + All matter asks a Spirit that _creates!_ + + * * * * * + + +CORRECTNESS + +(FREE TRANSLATION) + + The calm correctness, where no fault we see, + Attests Art's loftiest or its least degree; + Alike the smoothness of the surface shows + The Pool's dull stagner--the great Sea's repose. + + * * * * * + + +THE MASTER + + The herd of scribes, by what they tell us, + Show all in which their wits excel us; + But the True Master we behold, + In what his art leaves--just untold. + + * * * * * + + +EXPECTATION AND FULFILLMENT + + O'er Ocean, with a thousand masts, sails forth the stripling bold-- + One boat, hard rescued from the deep, draws into port the old! + + * * * * * + + +THE PROSELYTE MAKER + + "A little earth from out the Earth-and I + The Earth will move:" so spake the Sage divine. + Out of myself one little moment--try + Myself to take:--succeed, and I am thine! + + * * * * * + + +THE CONNECTING MEDIUM + + What to cement the lofty and the mean + Does Nature?--What?--Place vanity between? + + * * * * * + + +THE MORAL POET + +[This is an Epigram on Lavater's work, called "Pontius Pilatus, oder der +Mensch in Allen Gestalten," etc.--TRANSLATOR.] + + "How poor a thing is man!" Alas, 'tis true + I'd half forgot it--when I chanced on you! + + * * * * * + + +THE SUBLIME THEME + +[Also on Lavater, and alluding to the "Jesus Messias, oder die Evangelien +und Apostelgeschichte in Gesaengen."--TRANSLATOR.] + + How God compassionates Mankind, thy muse, my friend, rehearses-- + Compassion for the sins of Man!--What comfort for thy verses! + + * * * * * + + +SCIENCE + + To some she is the Goddess great, to some the milch-cow of the field; + Their care is but to calculate--what butter she will yield. + + * * * * * + + +KANT AND HIS COMMENTATORS + + How many starvelings one rich man can nourish! + When monarchs build, the rubbish-carriers flourish. + + * * * * * + + +THE MAIDEN FROM AFAR (1796) + + Within a vale, each infant year, + When earliest larks first carol free, + To humble shepherds doth appear + A wondrous maiden, fair to see. + Not born within that lowly place-- + From whence she wander'd, none could tell; + Her parting footsteps left no trace, + When once the maiden bade farewell. + + And blessed was her presence there-- + Each heart, expanding, grew more gay; + Yet something loftier still than fair + Kept man's familiar looks away. + From fairy gardens, known to none, + She brought mysterious fruits and flowers-- + The things of some serener sun-- + Some Nature more benign than ours. + + With each, her gifts the maiden shared-- + To some the fruits, the flowers to some; + Alike the young, the aged fared; + Each bore a blessing back to home. + Though every guest was welcome there, + Yet some the maiden held more dear, + And cull'd her rarest sweets whene'er + She saw two hearts that loved draw near. + + * * * * * + + +THE GLOVE (1797) + +A TALE + + Before his lion-court, + To see the gruesome sport, + Sate the king; + Beside him group'd his princely peers; + And dames aloft, in circling tiers, + Wreath'd round their blooming ring. + King Francis, where he sate, + Raised a finger--yawn'd the gate, + And, slow from his repose, + A LION goes! + Dumbly he gazed around + The foe-encircled ground; + And, with a lazy gape, + He stretch'd his lordly shape, + And shook his careless mane, + And--laid him down again! + +[Illustration: THE KNIGHT SCORNS CUNIGONDE Eugen Klimsch] + + A finger raised the king-- + And nimbly have the guard + A second gate unbarr'd; + Forth, with a rushing spring, + A TIGER sprung! + Wildly the wild one yell'd + When the lion he beheld; + And, bristling at the look, + With his tail his sides he strook, + And roll'd his rabid tongue; + In many a wary ring + He swept round the forest king, + With a fell and rattling sound;-- + And laid him on the ground, + Grommelling! + The king raised his finger; then + Leap'd two LEOPARDS from the den + With a bound; + And boldly bounded they + Where the crouching tiger lay + Terrible! + And he gripped the beasts in his deadly hold; + In the grim embrace they grappled and roll'd; + Rose the lion with a roar! + And stood the strife before; + And the wild-cats on the spot, + From the blood-thirst, wroth and hot, + Halted still! + Now from the balcony above, + A snowy hand let fall a glove:-- + Midway between the beasts of prey, + Lion and tiger; there it lay, + The winsome lady's glove! + +Fair Cunigonde said, with a lip of scorn, +To the knight DELORGES--"If the love you have sworn +Were as gallant and leal as you boast it to be, +I might ask you to bring back that glove to me!" + +The knight left the place where the lady sate; +The knight he has pass'd thro' the fearful gate; +The lion and tiger he stoop'd above, +And his fingers have closed on the lady's glove! + +All shuddering and stunn'd, they beheld him there-- +The noble knights and the ladies fair; +But loud was the joy and the praise, the while +He bore back the glove with his tranquil smile! + +With a tender look in her softening eyes, +That promised reward to his warmest sighs, +Fair Cunigonde rose her knight to grace; +He toss'd the glove in the lady's face! +"Nay, spare me the guerdon, at least," quoth he; +And he left forever that fair ladye! + + * * * * * + + + +[Illustration: THE DIVER CARL GEHRTS] + +THE DIVER (1797) + +A BALLAD + + +[The original of the story on which Schiller has founded this ballad, +matchless perhaps for the power and grandeur of its descriptions, is +to be found in Kircher. According to the true principles of imitative +art, Schiller has preserved all that is striking in the legend, and +ennobled all that is common-place. The name of the Diver was Nicholas, +surnamed the Fish. The King appears, according to Hoffmeister's +probable conjectures, to have been either Frederic I. or Frederic II., +of Sicily. Date from 1295 to 1377.] + + "Oh, where is the knight or the squire so bold, + As to dive to the howling charybdis below?-- + I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold, + And o'er it already the dark waters flow; + Whoever to me may the goblet bring, + Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his king." + + He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep, + That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge + Of the endless and measureless world of the deep, + Swirl'd into the maelstrom that madden'd the surge. + "And where is the diver so stout to go-- + I ask ye again--to the deep below?" + And the knights and the squires that gather'd around, + Stood silent--and fix'd on the ocean their eyes; + + They look'd on the dismal and savage Profound, + And the peril chill'd back every thought of the prize. + And thrice spoke the monarch--"The cup to win, + Is there never a wight who will venture in?" + + And all as before heard in silence the king-- + Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle, + 'Mid the tremulous squires--stept out from the ring, + Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle; + And the murmuring crowd as they parted asunder, + On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder. + + As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave + One glance on the gulf of that merciless main; + Lo! the wave that forever devours the wave + Casts roaringly up the charybdis again; + And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom, + Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom. + + And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,[6] + As when fire is with water commix'd and contending, + And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, + And flood upon flood hurries on, never-ending. + And it never _will_ rest, nor from travail be free, + Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea. + + Yet, at length, comes a lull O'er the mighty commotion, + As the whirlpool sucks into black smoothness the swell + Of the white-foaming breakers--and cleaves thro' the ocean + A path that seems winding in darkness to hell. + Round and round whirl'd the waves-deeper and deeper + still driven, + Like a gorge thro' the mountainous main thunder-riven! + + The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before + That path through the riven abyss closed again-- + Hark! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore, + And, behold! he is whirl'd in the grasp of the main! + And o'er him the breakers mysteriously roll'd, + And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold. + + O'er the surface grim silence lay dark; but the crowd + Heard the wail from the deep murmur hollow and fell; + They hearken and shudder, lamenting aloud-- + "Gallant youth-noble heart-fare-thee-well, fare-thee-well!" + More hollow and more wails the deep on the ear-- + More dread and more dread grows suspense in its fear. + + If thou should'st in those waters thy diadem fling, + And cry, "Who may find it shall win it and wear;" + God wot, though the prize were the crown of a king-- + A crown at such hazard were valued too dear. + For never shall lips of the living reveal + What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal. + + Oh, many a bark, to that breast grappled fast, + Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave; + Again, crash'd together the keel and the mast, + To be seen, toss'd aloft in the glee of the wave. + Like the growth of a storm, ever louder and clearer, + Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer. + + And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars, + As when fire is with water commix'd and contending; + And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars, + And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending; + And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom + Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom. + + And, lo! from the heart of that far-floating gloom,[7] + What gleams on the darkness so swanlike and white? + Lo! an arm and a neck, glancing up from the tomb!-- + They battle--the Man's with the Element's might. + It is he--it is he! In his left hand, behold! + As a sign!--as a joy!--shines the goblet of gold! + + And he breathed deep, and he breathed long, + And he greeted the heavenly delight of the day. + They gaze on each other--they shout, as they throng-- + "He lives--lo the ocean has render'd its prey! + And safe from the whirlpool and free from the grave, + Comes back to the daylight the soul of the brave!" + + And he comes, with the crowd in their clamor and glee, + And the goblet his daring has won from the water, + He lifts to the king as he sinks on his knee;-- + And the king from her maidens has beckon'd his daughter-- + She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring, + And thus spake the Diver--"Long life to the king! + + "Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice, + The air and the sky that to mortals are given! + May the horror below never more find a voice-- + Nor Man stretch too far the wide mercy of Heaven! + Never more--never more may he lift from the sight + The veil which is woven with Terror and Night! + + "Quick-brightening like lightning--it tore me along, + Down, down, till the gush of a torrent, at play + In the rocks of its wilderness, caught me--and strong + As the wings of an eagle, it whirl'd me away. + Vain, vain was my struggle--the circle had won me, + Round and round in its dance, the wild element spun me. + + "And I call'd on my God, and my God heard my prayer + In the strength of my need, in the gasp of my breath-- + And show'd me a crag that rose up from the lair, + And I clung to it, nimbly--and baffled the death! + And, safe in the perils around me, behold + On the spikes of the coral the goblet of gold! + + "Below, at the foot of the precipice drear, + Spread the gloomy, and purple, and pathless Obscure! + A silence of Horror that slept on the ear, + That the eye more appall'd might the Horror endure! + Salamander--snake--dragon--vast reptiles that dwell + In the deep-coil'd about the grim jaws of their hell. + + "Dark-crawl'd--glided dark the unspeakable swarms, + Clump'd together in masses, misshapen and vast-- + Here clung and here bristled the fashionless forms-- + Here the dark-moving bulk of the Hammer-fish pass'd-- + And with teeth grinning white, and a menacing motion, + Went the terrible Shark--the Hyena of Ocean. + + "There I hung, and the awe gather'd icily o'er me, + So far from the earth, where man's help there was none! + The One Human Thing, with the Goblins before me-- + Alone--in a loneness so ghastly--ALONE! + Fathom-deep from man's eye in the speechless profound, + With the death of the Main and the Monsters around. + + "Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now + IT[8] saw--the dread hundred-limbed creature-its prey! + And darted--O God! from the far flaming-bough + Of the coral, I swept on the horrible way; + And it seized me, the wave with its wrath and its roar, + It seized me to save--King, the danger is o'er!" + + On the youth gazed the monarch, and marvel'd; quoth he, + "Bold Diver, the goblet I promised is thine, + And this ring will I give, a fresh guerdon to thee, + Never jewels more precious shone up from the mine, + If thou'lt bring me fresh tidings, and venture again + To tell what lies hid in the _innermost_ main?" + + Then outspake the daughter in tender emotion + "Ah! father, my father, what more can there rest? + Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean-- + He has served thee as none would, thyself has confest. + If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of desire, + Let thy knights put to shame the exploit of the squire!" + + The king seized the goblet--he swung it on high, + And whirling, it fell in the roar of the tide: + "But bring back that goblet again to my eye, + And I'll hold thee the dearest that rides by my side; + And thine arms shall embrace, as thy bride, I decree, + The maiden whose pity now pleadeth for thee." + + In his heart, as he listen'd, there leapt the wild joy-- + And the hope and the love through his eyes spoke in fire, + On that bloom, on that blush, gazed delighted the boy; + The maiden-she faints at the feet of her sire! + Here the guerdon divine, there the danger beneath; + He resolves! To the strife with the life and the death! + + They hear the loud surges sweep back in their swell, + Their coming the thunder-sound heralds along! + Fond eyes yet are tracking the spot where he fell: + They come, the wild waters, in tumult and throng, + Roaring up to the cliff--roaring back, as before, + But no wave ever brings the lost youth to the shore. + + * * * * + + + +THE CRANES OF IBYCUS (1797) + + + From Rhegium to the Isthmus, long + Hallow'd to steeds and glorious song, + Where, link'd awhile in holy peace, + Meet all the sons of martial Greece-- + Wends Ibycus-whose lips the sweet + And ever-young Apollo fires; + The staff supports the wanderer's feet-- + The God the Poet's soul inspires! + + Soon from the mountain-ridges high, + The tower-crown'd Corinth greets his eye; + In Neptune's groves of darksome pine, + He treads with shuddering awe divine; + Nought lives around him, save a swarm + Of CRANES, that still pursued his way. + Lured by the South, they wheel and form + In ominous groups their wild array. + + And "Hail! beloved Birds!" he cried; + "My comrades on the ocean tide, + Sure signs of good ye bode to me; + Our lots alike would seem to be; + From far, together borne, we greet + A shelter now from toil and danger; + And may the friendly hearts we meet + Preserve from every ill--the Stranger!" + + His step more light, his heart more gay, + Along the mid-wood winds his way, + When, where the path the thickets close, + Burst sudden forth two ruffian foes; + Now strife to strife, and foot to foot! + Ah! weary sinks the gentle hand; + The gentle hand that wakes the lute + Has learn'd no lore that guides the brand. + + He calls on men and Gods--in vain! + His cries no blest deliverer gain; + Feebler and fainter grows the sound, + And still the deaf life slumbers round-- + "In the far land I fall forsaken, + Unwept and unregarded, here; + By death from caitiff hands o'ertaken, + Nor ev'n one late avenger near!" + + Down to the earth the death-stroke bore him-- + Hark, where the Cranes wheel dismal o'er him! + He hears, as darkness veils his eyes, + Near, in hoarse croak, their dirge-like cries. + "Ye whose wild wings above me hover, + (Since never voice, save yours alone, + The deed can tell)--the hand discover-- + Avenge!"--He spoke, and life was gone. + + Naked and maim'd the corpse was found-- + And, still through many a mangling wound, + The sad Corinthian Host could trace + The loved--too well-remember'd face. + "And must I meet thee thus once more? + Who hoped with wreaths of holy pine, + Bright with new fame--the victory o'er-- + The Singer's temples to entwine!" + + And loud lamented every guest + Who held the Sea-God's solemn feast-- + As in a single heart prevailing, + Throughout all Hellas went the wailing. + Wild to the Council Hall they ran-- + In thunder rush'd the threat'ning Flood-- + "Revenge shall right the murder'd man, + The last atonement-blood for blood!" + + Yet 'mid the throng the Isthmus claims, + Lured by the Sea-God's glorious games-- + The mighty many-nation'd throng-- + How track the hand that wrought the wrong?-- + How guess if that dread deed were done, + By ruffian hands, or secret foes? + He who sees all on earth--the SUN-- + Alone the gloomy secret knows. + + Perchance he treads in careless peace, + Amidst your Sons, assembled Greece; + Hears with a smile revenge decreed; + Gloats with fell joy upon the deed. + His steps the avenging gods may mock + Within the very Temple's wall, + Or mingle with the crowds that flock + To yonder solemn scenic[9] hall. + + Wedg'd close, and serried, swarms the crowd-- + Beneath the weight the walls are bow'd-- + Thitherwards streaming far, and wide, + Broad Hellas flows in mingled tide tide-- + A tide like that which heaves the deep + When hollow-sounding, shoreward driven; + On, wave on wave, the thousands sweep + Till arching, row on row, to heaven! + + The tribes, the nations, who shall name, + That guest-like, there assembled came? + From Theseus' town, from Aulis' strand-- + From Phocis, from the Spartans' land-- + From Asia's wave-divided clime, + The Isles that gem the AEgean Sea, + To hearken on that Stage Sublime, + The Dark Choir's mournful melody! + + True to the awful rites of old, + In long and measured strides, behold + The Chorus from the hinder ground, + Pace the vast circle's solemn round. + So this World's women never strode-- + Their race from Mortals ne'er began; + Gigantic, from their grim abode, + They tower above the Sons of Man! + + Across their loins the dark robe clinging, + In fleshless hands the torches swinging, + Now to and fro, with dark red glow-- + No blood that lives the dead cheeks know! + Where flow the locks that woo to love + On _human_ temples--ghastly dwell + The serpents, coil'd the brow above, + And the green asps with poison swell. + + Thus circling, horrible, within + That space--doth their dark hymn begin, + And round the sinner as they go, + Cleave to the heart their words of woe. + Dismally wails, the senses chilling, + The hymn--the FURIES' solemn song; + And froze the very marrow thrilling + As roll'd the gloomy sounds along. + + And weal to him--from crime secure-- + Who keeps his soul as childhood's pure; + Life's path he roves, a wanderer free-- + We near him not-THE AVENGERS, WE, + But woe to him for whom we weave + The doom for deeds that shun the light: + Fast to the murderer's feet we cleave, + The fearful Daughters of the Night. + + "And deems he flight from us can hide him? + Still on dark wings We sail beside him! + The murderer's feet the snare enthralls-- + Or soon or late, to earth he falls! + Untiring, hounding on, we go; + For blood can no remorse atone I + On, ever--to the Shades below, + And there--we grasp him, still our own!" + + So singing, their slow dance they wreathe, + And stillness, like a silent death, + Heavily there lay cold and drear, + As if the Godhead's self were near. + Then, true to those strange rites of old, + Pacing the circle's solemn round, + In long and measured strides--behold, + They vanish in the hinder ground! + + Confused and doubtful--half between + The solemn truth and phantom scene, + The crowd revere the Power, presiding + O'er secret deeps, to justice guiding-- + The Unfathom'd and Inscrutable + By whom the web of doom is spun, + Whose shadows in the deep heart dwell, + Whose form is seen not in the sun! + + Just then, amidst the highest tier, + Breaks forth a voice that starts the ear; + "See there--see there, Timotheus, + Behold the Cranes of Ibycus!" + A sudden darkness wraps the sky; + Above the roofless building hover + Dusk, swarming wings; and heavily + Sweep the slow Cranes, hoarse-murmuring, over! + + "Of Ibycus?"--that name so dear + Thrills through the hearts of those who hear! + Like wave on wave in eager seas, + From mouth to mouth the murmur flees-- + "Of Ibycus, whom we bewail! + The murder'd one! What mean those words? + Who is the man--knows _he_ the tale? + Why link that name with those wild birds?" + + Questions on questions louder press-- + Like lightning flies the inspiring guess-- + Leaps every heart--"The truth we seize; + Your might is here, EUMENIDES! + The murderer yields himself confest-- + Vengeance is near--that voice the token-- + Ho!-him who yonder spoke, arrest! + And him to whom the words were spoken!" + + Scarce had the wretch the words let fall, + Than fain their sense he would recall + In vain; those whitening lips--behold! + The secret have already told. + Into their Judgment Court sublime + The Scene is changed;--their doom is seal'd! + Behold the dark unwitness'd Crime, + Struck by the lightning that reveal'd! + + * * * * * + + + +THE WORDS OF BELIEF (1797) + + + Three Words will I name thee--around and about, + From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; + But they had not their birth in the being without, + And the heart, not the lip, must their oracle be! + And all worth in the man shall for ever be o'er + When in those Three Words he believes no more. + + Man is made FREE!--Man, by birthright, is free, + Though the tyrant may deem him but born for his tool. + Whatever the shout of the rabble may be-- + Whatever the ranting misuse of the fool-- + Still fear not the Slave, when he breaks from his chain, + For the Man made a Freeman grows safe in his gain. + + And Virtue is more than a shade or a sound, + And Man may her voice, in this being, obey; + And though ever he slip on the stony ground, + Yet, ever again to the godlike way, + To the _science_ of Good though the Wise may be blind, + Yet the _practice_ is plain to the childlike mind. + + And a God there is--over Space, over Time; + While the Human Will rocks, like a reed, to and fro, + Lives the Will of the Holy--A Purpose Sublime, + A Thought woven over creation below; + Changing and shifting the All we inherit, + But changeless through all One Immutable Spirit! + + Hold fast the Three Words of Belief--though about + From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; + Yet they take not their birth from the being without-- + But a voice from within must their oracle be; + And never all worth in the Man can be o'er, + Till in those Three Words he believes no more. + + * * * * * + + + +THE WORDS OF ERROR (1799) + + + Three Errors there are, that for ever are found + On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; + But empty their meaning and hollow their sound-- + And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast. + + The fruits of existence escape from the clasp + Of the seeker who strives but those shadows to grasp-- + So long as Man dreams of some Age in _this_ life + When the Right and the Good will all evil subdue; + For the Right and the Good lead us ever to strife, + And wherever they lead us, the Fiend will pursue. + + And (till from the earth borne, and stifled at length) + The earth that he touches still gifts him with strength![10] + So long as Man fancies that Fortune will live, + Like a bride with her lover, united with Worth; + For her favors, alas! to the mean she will give-- + And Virtue possesses no title to earth! + That Foreigner wanders to regions afar, + Where the lands of her birthright immortally are! + + So long as Man dreams that, to mortals a gift, + The Truth in her fulness of splendor will shine; + The veil of the goddess no earth-born may lift, + And all we can learn is--to guess and divine I + Dost thou seek, in a dogma, to prison her form? + The spirit flies forth on the wings of the storm! + O, Noble Soul! fly from delusions like these, + More heavenly belief be it thine to adore; + Where the Ear never hearkens, the Eye never sees, + Meet the rivers of Beauty and Truth evermore! + Not _without_ thee the streams--there the Dull seek them;--No! + Look _within_ thee--behold both the fount and the flow! + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration: THE LAY OF THE BELL JULIUS BENEZUR] + +THE LAY OF THE BELL[11] (1799) + + + "_Vivos voco--Mortuos plango--Fulgura frango_." [12] + + I + + Fast in its prison-walls of earth, + Awaits the mold of baked clay. + Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- + THE BELL that shall be born today! + Who would honor obtain, + With the sweat and the pain, + The praise that Man gives to the Master must buy!-- + But the blessing withal must descend from on high! + And well an earnest word beseems + The work the earnest hand prepares; + Its load more light the labor deems, + When sweet discourse the labor shares. + So let us ponder--nor in vain-- + What strength can work when labor wills; + For who would not the fool disdain + Who ne'er designs what he fulfils? + And well it stamps our Human Race, + And hence the gift To UNDERSTAND, + That Man within the heart should trace + Whate'er he fashions with the hand. + + II + + From the fir the faggot take, + Keep it, heap it hard and dry, + That the gathered flame may break + Through the furnace, wroth and high. + When the copper within + Seethes and simmers--the tin + Pour quick, that the fluid that feeds the Bell + May flow in the right course glib and well. + Deep hid within this nether cell, + What force with Fire is molding thus + In yonder airy tower shall dwell, + And witness wide and far of us! + It shall, in later days, unfailing, + Rouse many an ear to rapt emotion; + Its solemn voice with Sorrow wailing, + Or choral chiming to Devotion. + Whatever Fate to Man may bring, + Whatever weal or woe befall, + That metal tongue shall backward ring + The warning moral drawn from all. + + III + + See the silvery bubbles spring! + Good! the mass is melting now! + Let the salts we duly bring + Purge the flood, and speed the flow. + From the dross and the scum, + Pure, the fusion must come; + For perfect and pure we the metal must keep, + That its voice may be perfect, and pure, and deep. + That voice, with merry music rife, + The cherished child shall welcome in, + What time the rosy dreams of life + In the first slumber's arms begin; + As yet in Time's dark womb unwarning, + Repose the days, or foul or fair, + And watchful o'er that golden morning, + The Mother-Love's untiring care! + And swift the years like arrows fly-- + No more with girls content to play, + Fast in its prison-walls of earth, + Awaits the mold of baked clay. + Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth-- + The BELL that shall be born to-day! + Bounds the proud Boy upon his way, + Storms through loud life's tumultuous pleasures, + With pilgrim staff the wide world measures; + And, wearied with the wish to roam, + Again seeks, stranger-like, the Father-Home. + And, lo, as some sweet vision breaks + Out from its native morning skies, + With rosy shame on downcast cheeks, + The Virgin stands before his eyes. + A nameless longing seizes him! + From all his wild companions flown; + Tears, strange till then, his eyes bedim; + He wanders all alone. + Blushing, he glides where'er she move; + Her greeting can transport him; + To every mead to deck his love, + The happy wild flowers court him! + Sweet Hope--and tender Longing--ye + The growth of Life's first Age of Gold, + When the heart, swelling, seems to see + The gates of heaven unfold! + O Love, the beautiful and brief! O prime, + Glory, and verdure, of life's summertime! + + IV + + Browning o'er, the pipes are simmering, + Dip this wand of clay[13] within; + If like glass the wand be glimmering, + Then the casting may begin. + Brisk, brisk now, and see + If the fusion flow free; + If--(happy and welcome indeed were the sign!) + If the hard and the ductile united combine. + For still where the strong is betrothed to the weak, + And the stern in sweet marriage is blent with the meek, + Rings the concord harmonious, both tender and strong: + So be it with thee, if forever united, + The heart to the heart flows in one, love-delighted; + Illusion is brief, but Repentance is long. + Lovely, thither are they bringing, + With her virgin wreath, the Bride! + To the love-feast clearly ringing, + Tolls the church-bell far and wide! + With that sweetest holyday, + Must the May of Life depart; + With the cestus loosed--away + Flies ILLUSION from the heart! + Yet love lingers lonely, + When Passion is mute, + And the blossoms may only + Give way to the fruit. + The Husband must enter + The hostile life; + With struggle and strife, + To plant or to watch, + To snare or to snatch, + To pray and importune, + Must wager and venture + And hunt down his fortune! + Then flows in a current the gear and the gain, + And the garners are filled with the gold of the grain, + Now a yard to the court, now a wing to the centre! + Within sits Another, + The thrifty Housewife; + The mild one, the mother-- + Her home is her life. + In its circle she rules, + And the daughters she schools, + And she cautions the boys, + With a bustling command, + And a diligent hand + Employed she employs; + Gives order to store, + And the much makes the more; + Locks the chest and the wardrobe, with lavender smelling, + And the hum of the spindle goes quick through the dwelling, + And she hoards in the presses, well polished and full, + The snow of the linen, the shine of the wool; + Blends the sweet with the good, and from care and endeavor + Rests never! + Blithe the Master (where the while + From his roof he sees them smile) + Eyes the lands, and counts the gain; + There, the beams projecting far, + And the laden store-house are, + And the granaries bowed beneath + The blessed golden grain; + There, in undulating motion, + Wave the corn-fields like an ocean. + Proud the boast the proud lips breathe:-- + "My house is built upon a rock, + And sees unmoved the stormy shock + Of waves that fret below!" + What chain so strong, what girth so great, + To bind the giant form of Fate?-- + Swift are the steps of Woe. + + V + + Now the casting may begin; + See the breach indented there: + Ere we run the fusion in, + Halt--and speed the pious prayer! + Pull the bung out-- + See around and about + What vapor, what vapor--God help us!--has risen?-- + Ha! the flame like a torrent leaps forth from its prison! + What friend is like the might of fire + When man can watch and wield the ire? + Whate'er we shape or work, we owe + Still to that heaven-descended glow. + But dread the heaven-descended glow, + When from their chain its wild wings go, + When, where it listeth, wide and wild + Sweeps the Free Nature's free-born Child! + When the Frantic One fleets, + While no force can withstand, + Through the populous streets + Whirling ghastly the brand; + For the Element hates + What man's labor creates, + And the work of his hand! + Impartially out from the cloud, + Or the curse or the blessing may fall! + Benignantly out from the cloud, + Come the dews, the revivers of all! + Avengingly out from the cloud + Come the levin, the bolt, and the ball! + Hark--a wail from the steeple!--aloud + The bell shrills its voice to the crowd! + Look--look--red as blood + All on high! + It is not the daylight that fills with its flood + The sky! + What a clamor awaking + Roars up through the street! + What a hell-vapor breaking + Rolls on through the street! + And higher and higher + Aloft moves the Column of Fire! + Through the vistas and rows + Like a whirlwind it goes, + And the air like the steam from a furnace glows. + Beams are crackling--posts are shrinking-- + Walls are sinking--windows clinking + Children crying-- + Mothers flying-- + And the beast (the black ruin yet smoldering under) + Yells the howl of its pain and its ghastly wonder! + Hurry and skurry--away--away, + The face of the night is as clear as day! + As the links in a chain, + Again and again + Flies the bucket from hand to hand; + High in arches up-rushing + The engines are gushing, + And the flood, as a beast on the prey that it hounds, + With a roar on the breast of the element bounds. + To the grain and the fruits, + Through the rafters and beams, + Through the barns and the garners it crackles and streams! + As if they would rend up the earth from its roots, + Rush the flames to the sky + Giant-high; + And at length, + Wearied out and despairing, man bows to their strength! + With an idle gaze sees their wrath consume, + And submits to his doom! + Desolate + The place, and dread + For storms the barren bed! + In the blank voids that cheerful casements were, + Comes to and fro the melancholy air, + And sits despair; + And through the ruin, blackening in its shroud, + Peers, as it flits, the melancholy cloud. + One human glance of grief upon the grave + Of all that Fortune gave + The loiterer takes--then turns him to depart, + And grasps the wanderer's staff and mans his heart: + Whatever else the element bereaves + One blessing more than all it reft--it leaves + The face that he loves!--He counts them o'er, + See--not one look is missing from that store! + + VI + + Now clasped the bell within the clay-- + The mold the mingled metals fill-- + + Oh, may it, sparkling into day, + Reward the labor and the skill! + Alas! should it fail, + For the mold may be frail-- + And still with our hope must be mingled the fear-- + And, ev'n now, while we speak, the mishap may be near! + To the dark womb of sacred earth + This labor of our hands is given, + As seeds that wait the second birth, + And turn to blessings watched by heaven! + Ah seeds, how dearer far than they + We bury in the dismal tomb, + Where Hope and Sorrow bend to pray + That suns beyond the realm of day + May warm them into bloom! + From the steeple + Tolls the bell, + Deep and heavy, + The death-knell, + Guiding with dirge-note--solemn, sad, and slow, + To the last home earth's weary wanderers know. + It is that worshipped wife-- + It is that faithful mother![14] + Whom the dark Prince of Shadows leads benighted, + From that dear arm where oft she hung delighted. + Far from those blithe companions, born + Of her, and blooming in their morn; + On whom, when couched her heart above, + So often looked the Mother-Love! + Ah! rent the sweet Home's union-band, + And never, never more to come-- + She dwells within the shadowy land, + Who was the Mother of that Home! + How oft they miss that tender guide, + The care--the watch--the face--the MOTHER-- + And where she sate the babes beside, + Sits with unloving looks--ANOTHER! + + VII + + While the mass is cooling now, + Let the labor yield to leisure, + As the bird upon the bough, + Loose the travail to the pleasure. + When the soft stars awaken! + Each task be forsaken! + And the vesper-bell, lulling the earth into peace, + If the master still toil, chimes the workman's release! + Homeward from the tasks of day, + Through the greenwood's welcome way + Wends the wanderer, blithe and cheerily, + To the cottage loved so dearly! + And the eye and ear are meeting, + Now, the slow sheep homeward bleating; + Now, the wonted shelter near, + Lowing the lusty-fronted steer + Creaking now the heavy wain, + Reels with the happy harvest grain; + While, with many-colored leaves, + Glitters the garland on the sheaves; + For the mower's work is done, + And the young folks' dance begun! + Desert street, and quiet mart;-- + Silence is in the city's heart; + And the social taper lighteth + Each dear face that HOME uniteth; + While the gate the town before + Heavily swings with sullen roar! + Though darkness is spreading + O'er earth--the Upright + And the Honest, undreading, + Look safe on the night + Which the evil man watches in awe, + For the eye of the Night is the Law! + Bliss-dowered! O daughter of the skies, + Hail, holy ORDER, whose employ + Blends like to like in light and joy-- + Builder of cities, who of old + Called the wild man from waste and wold, + And, in his but thy presence stealing, + Roused each familiar household feeling, + And, best of all, the happy ties, + The centre of the social band-- + _The Instinct of the Fatherland!_ + United thus--each helping each, + Brisk work the countless hands forever; + For naught its power to Strength can teach, + Like Emulation and Endeavor! + Thus linked the master with the man, + Each in his rights can each revere, + And while they march in freedom's van, + Scorn the lewd rout that dogs the rear! + To freemen labor is renown! + Who works--gives blessings and commands; + Kings glory in the orb and crown-- + Be ours the glory of our hands, + Long in these walls--long may we greet + Your footfalls, Peace and Concord sweet! + Distant the day, oh! distant far, + When the rude hordes of trampling War + Shall scare the silent vale-- + The where + Now the sweet heaven, when day doth leave + The air, + Limns its soft rose-hues on the veil of Eve-- + Shall the fierce war-brand, tossing in the gale, + From town and hamlet shake the horrent glare! + + VIII + + Now, its destined task fulfilled, + Asunder break the prison-mold; + Let the goodly Bell we build, + Eye and heart alike behold. + The hammer down heave, + Till the cover it cleave:-- + For not till we shatter the wall of its cell + Can we lift from its darkness and bondage the Bell. + To break the mold the master may, + If skilled the hand and ripe the hour; + But woe, when on its fiery way + The metal seeks itself to pour, + Frantic and blind, with thunder-knell, + Exploding from its shattered home, + And glaring forth, as from a hell, + Behold the red Destruction come! + When rages strength that has no reason, + There breaks the mold before the season; + When numbers burst what bound before, + Woe to the State that thrives no more! + Yea, woe, when in the City's heart, + The latent spark to flame is blown, + "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood + And Millions from their silence start, + To claim, without a guide, their own! + Discordant howls the warning Bell, + Proclaiming discord wide and far, + And, born but things of peace to tell, + Becomes the ghastliest voice of war: + "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood + Rush the roused people at the sound! + Through street, hall, palace, roars the flood, + And banded murder closes round! + The hyena-shapes (that women were!) + Jest with the horrors they survey; + They hound--they rend--they mangle there, + As panthers with their prey! + Naught rests to hallow--burst the ties + Of life's sublime and reverent awe; + Before the Vice the Virtue flies, + And Universal Crime is Law! + Man fears the lion's kingly tread; + Man fears the tiger's fangs of terror; + And still, the dreadliest of the dread, + Is Man himself in error! + No torch, though lit from Heaven, illumes + The Blind!--Why place it in his hands? + It lights not him--it but consumes + The City and the Land! + + IX + + Rejoice and laud the prospering skies! + The kernel bursts its husks--behold + From the dull clay the metal rise, + Pure-shining, as a star of gold! + Neck and lip, but as one beam, + It laughs like a sunbeam. + And even the scutcheon, clear-graven, shall tell + That the art of a master has fashioned the Bell! + Come in--come in, + My merry men--we'll form a ring + The new-born labor christening; + And "CONCORD" we will name her! + To union may her heart-felt call + In brother-love attune us all! + May she the destined glory win + For which the master sought to frame her-- + Aloft--(all earth's existence under) + In blue-pavilioned heaven afar + To dwell--the Neighbor of the Thunder, + The borderer of the Star! + Be hers above a voice to raise + Like those bright hosts in yonder sphere, + Who, while they move, their Maker praise, + And lead around the wreathed year! + To solemn and eternal things + We dedicate her lips sublime, + As hourly, calmly, on she swings, + Fanned by the fleeting wings of Time! + No pulse--no heart--no feeling hers! + She lends the warning voice to Fate; + And still companions, while she stirs, + The changes of the Human State! + So may she teach us, as her tone + But now so mighty, melts away-- + That earth no life which earth has known + From the last silence can delay! + Slowly now the cords upheave her! + From her earth-grave soars the Bell; + 'Mid the airs of Heaven we leave her! + In the Music-Realm to dwell! + Up--upwards--yet raise-- + She has risen--she sways. + Fair Bell to our city bode joy and increase, + And oh, may thy first sound be hallowed to--PEACE.[15] + + * * * * * + + + +THE GERMAN ART (1800) + + + By no kind Augustus reared, + To no Medici endeared, + German Art arose; + Fostering glory smil'd not on her, + Ne'er with kingly smiles to sun her, + Did her blooms unclose. + + No! She went, by Monarchs slighted + Went unhonored, unrequited, + From high Frederick's throne; + Praise and Pride be all the greater, + That Man's genius did create her, + From Man's worth alone. + + Therefore, all from loftier mountains, + Purer wells and richer Fountains, + Streams our Poet-Art; + So no rule to curb its rushing-- + All the fuller flows it gushing + From its deep--The Heart! + + * * * * * + + + +COMMENCEMENT OF THE NEW CENTURY (1801) + + + Where can Peace find a refuge? Whither, say, + Can Freedom turn? Lo, friend, before our view + The CENTURY rends itself in storm away, + And, red with slaughter, dawns on earth the New! + The girdle of the lands is loosen'd[16]--hurl'd + To dust the forms old Custom deem'd divine,-- + Safe from War's fury not the watery world;-- + Safe not the Nile-God nor the antique Rhine. + Two mighty nations make the world their field, + Deeming the world is for their heirloom given-- + Against the freedom of all lands they wield + This--Neptune's trident; that--the Thund'rer's levin + Gold to their scales each region must afford; + And, as fierce Brennus in Gaul's early tale, + The Frank casts in the iron of his sword, + To poise the balance, where the right may fail-- + Like some huge Polypus, with arms that roam + Outstretch'd for prey--the Briton spreads his reign; + And, as the Ocean were his household home, + Locks up the chambers of the liberal main. + On to the Pole where shines, unseen, the Star, + Onward his restless course unbounded flies; + Tracks every isle and every coast afar, + And undiscover'd leaves but--Paradise! + Alas, in vain on earth's wide chart, I ween, + Thou seek'st that holy realm beneath the sky-- + Where Freedom dwells in gardens ever green-- + And blooms the Youth of fair Humanity! + O'er shores where sail ne'er rustled to the wind, + O'er the vast universe, may rove thy ken; + But in the universe thou canst not find + A space sufficing for ten happy men! + In the heart's holy stillness only beams + The shrine of refuge from life's stormy throng; + Freedom is only in the land of Dreams; + And only blooms the Beautiful in Song! + + * * * * * + + + +CASSANDRA (1802) + + +[There is peace between the Greeks and Trojans--Achilles is to wed +Polyxena, Priam's daughter. On entering the Temple, he is shot through +his only vulnerable part by Paris.--The time of the following Poem is +during the joyous preparations for the marriage.] + + And mirth was in the halls of Troy, + Before her towers and temples fell; + High peal'd the choral hymns of joy, + Melodious to the golden shell. + The weary had reposed from slaughter-- + The eye forgot the tear it shed; + This day King Priam's lovely daughter + Shall great Pelides wed! + + Adorn'd with laurel boughs, they come, + Crowd after crowd--the way divine, + Where fanes are deck'd--for gods the home-- + And to the Thymbrian's[17] solemn shrine. + The wild Bacchantic joy is madd'ning + The thoughtless host, the fearless guest; + And there, the unheeded heart is sadd'ning + _One_ solitary breast! + + Unjoyous in the joyful throng, + Alone, and linking life with none, + Apollo's laurel groves among + The still Cassandra wander'd on! + Into the forest's deep recesses + The solemn Prophet-Maiden pass'd, + And, scornful, from her loosen'd tresses, + The sacred fillet cast! + + "To all its arms doth Mirth unfold, + And every heart foregoes its cares; + And Hope is busy in the old; + The bridal-robe my sister wears. + But I alone, alone am weeping; + The sweet delusion mocks not me-- + Around these walls destruction sweeping + More near and near I see! + + "A torch before my vision glows, + But not in Hymen's hand it shines; + A flame that to the welkin goes, + But not from holy offering-shrines; + Glad hands the banquet are preparing, + And near, and near the halls of state + I hear the God that comes unsparing; + I hear the steps of Fate. + + "And men my prophet-wail deride! + The solemn sorrow dies in scorn; + And lonely in the waste, I hide + The tortured heart that would forewarn. + Amidst the happy, unregarded, + Mock'd by their fearful joy, I trod; + Oh, dark to me the lot awarded, + Thou evil Pythian god! + + "Thine oracle, in vain to be, + Oh, wherefore am I thus consign'd + With eyes that every truth must see, + Lone in the City of the Blind? + Cursed with the anguish of a power + To view the fates I may not thrall, + The hovering tempest still must lower-- + The horror must befall! + + "Boots it the veil to lift, and give + To sight the frowning fates beneath? + For error is the life we live, + And, oh, our knowledge is but death! + Take back the clear and awful mirror, + Shut from mine eyes the blood-red glare + Thy truth is but a gift of terror + When mortal lips declare. + + "My blindness give to me once more[18]-- + The gay dim senses that rejoice; + The Past's delighted songs are o'er + For lips that speak a Prophet's voice. + To me _the future_ thou hast granted; + I miss _the moment_ from the chain-- + The happy Present-Hour enchanted! + Take back thy gift again! + + "Never for me the nuptial wreath + The odor-breathing hair shall twine; + My heavy heart is bow'd beneath + The service of thy dreary shrine. + My youth was but by tears corroded,-- + My sole familiar is my pain, + Each coming ill my heart foreboded, + And felt it first--in vain! + + "How cheer'ly sports the careless mirth-- + The life that loves, around I see; + Fair youth to pleasant thoughts give birth-- + The heart is only sad to me. + Not for mine eyes the young spring gloweth, + When earth her happy feast-day keeps; + The charm of life who ever knoweth + That looks into the deeps? + + "Wrapt in thy bliss, my sister, thine + The heart's inebriate rapture-springs;-- + Longing with bridal arms to twine + The bravest of the Grecian kings. + High swells the joyous bosom, seeming + Too narrow for its world of love, + Nor envies, in its heaven of dreaming, + The heaven of gods above! + + "I too might know the soft control + Of one the longing heart could choose, + With look which love illumes with soul-- + The look that supplicates and woos. + And sweet with him, where love presiding + Prepares our hearth, to go--but, dim, + A Stygian shadow, nightly gliding, + Stalks between me and him! + + "Forth from the grim funereal shore, + The Hell-Queen sends her ghastly bands; + Where'er I turn--behind--before-- + Dumb in my path--a Spectre stands! + Wherever gayliest, youth assembles-- + I see the shades in horror clad, + Amidst Hell's ghastly People trembles + One soul for ever sad! + + "I see the steel of Murder gleam-- + I see the Murderer's glowing eyes-- + To right--to left, one gory stream-- + One circling fate--my flight defies! + I may not turn my gaze--all seeing, + Foreknowing all, I dumbly stand-- + To close in blood my ghastly being + In the far strangers' land!" + + Hark! while the sad sounds murmur round, + Hark, from the Temple-porch, the cries!-- + A wild, confused, tumultuous sound!-- + Dead the divine Pelides lies! + Grim Discord rears her snakes devouring-- + The last departing god hath gone! + And, womb'd in cloud, the thunder, lowering, + Hangs black on Ilion. + +[Illustration: CASSANDRA Ferdinand Keller] + + * * * * * + + + +RUDOLPH OF HAPSBURG (1803) + +A BALLAD + + +[Hinrichs properly classes this striking ballad (together with the yet +grander one of the "Fight with the Dragon") amongst those designed to +depict and exalt the virtue of Humility. The source of the story is in +AEgidius Tschudi, a Swiss chronicler; and Schiller appears to have +adhered, with much fidelity, to the original narrative.] + + At Aachen, in imperial state, + In that time-hallow'd hall renown'd, + At solemn feast King Rudolf sate, + The day that saw the hero crown'd! + Bohemia and thy Palgrave, Rhine, + Give this the feast, and that the wine;[19] + The Arch Electoral Seven, + Like choral stars around the sun, + Gird him whose hand a world has won, + The anointed choice of Heaven. + + In galleries raised above the pomp, + Press'd crowd on crowd their panting way, + And with the joy-resounding tromp, + Rang out the millions' loud hurra! + For, closed at last the age of slaughter, + When human blood was pour'd as water-- + LAW dawns upon the world![20] + Sharp force no more shall right the wrong, + And grind the weak to crown the strong-- + War's carnage-flag is furl'd! + + In Rudolf's hand the goblet shines-- + And gaily round the board look'd he; + "And proud the feast, and bright the wines + My kingly heart feels glad to me! + Yet where the Gladness-Bringer--blest + In the sweet art which moves the breast + With lyre and verse divine? + Dear from my youth the craft of song, + And what as knight I loved so long, + As Kaiser, still be mine." + + Lo, from the circle bending there, + With sweeping robe the Bard appears, + As silver white his gleaming hair, + Bleach'd by the many winds of years; + "And music sleeps in golden strings-- + Love's rich reward the minstrel sings, + Well known to him the ALL + High thoughts and ardent souls desire! + What would the Kaiser from the lyre + Amidst the banquet-hall?" + + The Great One smiled--"Not mine the sway-- + The minstrel owns a loftier power-- + A mightier king inspires the lay-- + Its hest--THE IMPULSE OF THE HOUR!" + As through wide air the tempests sweep, + As gush the springs from mystic deep, + Or lone untrodden glen; + So from dark hidden fount within + Comes SONG, its own wild world to win + Amidst the souls of men! + + Swift with the fire the minstrel glow'd, + And loud the music swept the ear:-- + "Forth to the chase a Hero rode, + To hunt the bounding chamois-deer; + With shaft and horn the squire behind;-- + Through greensward meads the riders wind-- + A small sweet bell they hear. + Lo, with the HOST, a holy man-- + Before him strides the sacristan, + And the bell sounds near and near. + + "The noble hunter down-inclined + His reverent head and soften'd eye, + And honor'd with a Christian's mind + The Christ who loves humility! + Loud through the pasture, brawls and raves + A brook--the rains had fed the waves, + And torrents from the bill. + His sandal-shoon the priest unbound, + And laid the Host upon the ground, + And near'd the swollen rill! + + "What wouldst thou, priest?" the Count began, + As, marveling much, he halted there, + "Sir Count, I seek a dying man, + Sore-hungering for the heavenly fare. + The bridge that once its safety gave, + Rent by the anger of the wave, + Drifts down the tide below. + Yet barefoot now, I will not fear + (The soul that seeks its God, to cheer) + Through the wild wave to go!" + + "He gave that priest the knightly steed, + He reach'd that priest the lordly reins, + That he might serve the sick man's need, + Nor slight the task that heaven ordains. + He took the horse the squire bestrode; + On to the sick, the priest! + And when the morrow's sun was red, + The servant of the Savior led + Back to its lord the beast. + + "'Now Heaven forfend!' the Hero cried, + 'That e'er to chase or battle more + These limbs the sacred steed bestride + That once my Maker's image bore; + If not a boon allow'd to thee, + Thy Lord and mine its Master be, + My tribute to the King, + From whom I hold, as fiefs, since birth, + Honor, renown, the goods of earth, + Life and each living thing!" + + "'So may the God, who faileth never + To hear the weak and guide the dim, + To thee give honor here and ever, + As thou hast duly honor'd Him!' + Far-famed ev'n now through Swisserland + Thy generous heart and dauntless hand; + And fair from thine embrace + Six daughters bloom,[21] six crowns to bring, + Blest as the daughters of a KING, + The mothers of a RACE!" + + The mighty Kaiser heard amazed! + His heart was in the days of old; + Into the minstrel's heart he gazed, + That tale the Kaiser's own had told. + Yes, in the bard the priest he knew, + And in the purple veil'd from view + The gush of holy tears! + A thrill through that vast audience ran, + And every heart the godlike man + Revering God--reveres! + +[Illustration: THE COUNT GIVES UP HIS HORSE TO THE PRIEST Alexander +Wagner] + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 3: Though the Ideal images of youth forsake us, the Ideal +itself still remains to the Poet. It is his task and his companion, +for, unlike the Phantasies of Fortune, Fame, and Love, the Phantasies +of the Ideal are imperishable. While, as the occupation of life, it +pays off the debt of Time, as the exalter of life it contributes to +the Building of Eternity.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 4: "Die Gesalt"--Form. the Platonic Archetype.] + +[Footnote 5: This idea is often repeated, somewhat more clearly in the +haughty philosophy of Schiller. He himself says, elsewhere--"In a fair +soul each single action is not properly moral, but the whole character +is moral. The fair soul has no other service than the instincts of its +own beauty."--Translator] + +[Footnote 6: "Und es wallet, and siedet, und brauset, and zischt," +etc. Goethe was particularly struck with the truthfulness of these +lines, of which his personal observation at the Falls of the Rhine +enabled him to judge. Schiller modestly owns his obligations to +Homer's descriptions of Charybdis, Odyss. I., 12. The property of the +higher order of imagination to reflect truth, though not familiar to +experience, is singularly illustrated in this description. Schiller +had never seen even a Waterfall.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 7: The same rhyme as the preceding line in the original.] + +[Footnote 8: "--da kroch's heran," etc. The _It_ in the original has +been greatly admired. The poet thus vaguely represents the fabulous +misshapen monster, the Polypus of the ancients.] + +[Footnote 9: The theatre.] + +[Footnote 10: This simile is nobly conceived, but expressed somewhat +obscurely. As Hercules contended in vain against Antaeus, the Son of +Earth,--so long as the Earth gave her giant offspring new strength in +every fall,--so the soul contends in vain with evil--the natural +earth-born enemy, while the very contact of the earth invigorates the +enemy for the struggle. And as Antaeus was slain at last, when Hercules +lifted him from the earth and strangled him while raised aloft, so can +the soul slay the enemy (the desire, the passion, the evil, the +earth's offspring), when bearing it from earth itself and stifling it +in the higher air.--Translator.] + +[Footnote 11: Translated by Edward, Lord Lytton (Permission George +Routledge & Sons.)] + +[Footnote 12: "I call the Living--I mourn the Dead--I break the +Lightning." These words are inscribed on the Great Bell of the Minster +of Schaffhausen--also on that of the Church of Art near Lucerne. There +was an old belief in Switzerland that the undulation of air, caused by +the sound of a Bell, broke the electric fluid of a thunder-cloud.] + +[Footnote 13: A piece of clay pipe, which becomes vitrified if the +metal is sufficiently heated.] + +[Footnote 14: The translator adheres to the original, in forsaking the +rhyme in these lines and some others.] + +[Footnote 15: Written in the time of the French war.] + +[Footnote 16: That is--the settled political question--the balance of +power.] + +[Footnote 17: Apollo.] + +[Footnote 18: "Everywhere," says Hoffmeister truly, "Schiller exalts +Ideal Belief over real wisdom;--everywhere this modern Apostle of +Christianity advocates that Ideal, which exists in Faith and emotion, +against the wisdom of worldly intellect, the barren experience of +life," etc.--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 19: The office, at the coronation feast, of the Count +Palatine of the Rhine (Grand Sewer of the Empire and one of the Seven +Electors) was to bear the Imperial Globe and set the dishes on the +board; that of the King of Bohemia was cup-bearer. The latter was not, +however, present, as Schiller himself observed in a note (omitted in +the editions of his collected works), at the coronation of Rudolf.] + +[Footnote 20: Literally, "_A. judge (ein Richter_) was again upon the +earth." The word substituted in the translation is introduced in order +to recall to the reader the sublime name given, not without justice, +to Rudolf of Hapsburg, viz., "THE LIVING LAW."--TRANSLATOR.] + +[Footnote 21: At the coronation of Rudolf was celebrated the +marriage-feast of three of his daughters--to Ludwig of Bavaria, Otto +of Brandenburg, and Albrecht of Saxony. His other three daughters +married afterward Otto, nephew of Ludwig of Bavaria, Charles Martell, +son of Charles of Anjou, and Wenceslaus, son of Ottocar of Bohemia. +The royal house of England numbers Rudolf of Hapsburg amongst its +ancestors.--TRANSLATOR.] + + * * * * * + + + + +DRAMAS + + + +INTRODUCTION TO WALLENSTEIN'S DEATH + +By WILLIAM H. CARRUTH, PH.D. + +Professor of Comparative Literature, Leland Stanford University + + +Schiller wrote in rapid succession, during his Storm and Stress +period, _The Robbers, Fiesco, Cabal and Love_, and the beginning of +_Don Carlos_ (finished in 1787). Between this time and his last +period, which opens with _Wallenstein_, he devoted himself assiduously +to the study of philosophy, history, and esthetic theory. Even in +writing _Don Carlos_ he had felt that he needed to give more care to +artistic form and to the deeper questions of dramatic unity. His own +dissatisfaction with the results achieved was one of several reasons +why for nearly ten years he dropped dramatic composition. He felt, +too, that he needed more experience of life. He himself said of the +greatest of his Storm and Stress dramas that he had attempted to +portray humanity before he really knew humanity. + +In 1788 he published the first part of his _History of the Rebellion +of the Netherlands_, which brought him the appointment to the chair of +history in the University of Jena. The occupation with his next +historical work, the _History of the Thirty Years' War_, suggested to +him the thought of dramatizing the career of Wallenstein. But he was +not yet clear with himself on questions of artistic method. He was +studying Homer and dramatizing Euripides, lecturing and writing on +dramatic theory. Further delays were due to marriage and to serious +illness. It was not until 1796 that Schiller felt ready to begin work +on the long planned drama of _Wallenstein_. + +The first scenes were written in prose, but soon the poet realized +that only the dignified heroic verse was suited to his theme. Then +"all went better." Constant discussions with Goethe and Christian +Gottfried Koerner helped him to clear up his doubts and overcome the +difficulties of his subject. He found that history left too little +room for sympathy with Wallenstein, for he conceived him as really +guilty of treason. He decided early to lighten the gloom of his theme +by introducing the love episode of Max and Thekla. He modified also +his view of the nature of Wallenstein's guilt. Gradually the material +grew upon him. What he had planned as a Prologue became the one-act +play, _Wallenstein's Camp_, which, when it was produced in October, +1798, at the reopening of the Weimar Theatre, was preceded by 138 +lines of Dedication, since printed as the _Prologue_. Already Schiller +had foreseen the development into more than five acts, and accordingly +_The Piccolomini_ appeared separately, January 30, 1799, and the whole +series in order about the middle of April, upon the completion of +_Wallenstein's Death_. + +_Wallenstein_ is a trilogy, but in name rather than in real connection +and relation of parts. _Wallenstein's Camp_ is a picture of masses, +introducing only common soldiers and none of the chief personages of +the other parts of the composition. Its purpose is to present +something of the tremendous background of the action proper and to +give a realizing sense of the influence upon Wallenstein's career of +the soldiery with which he operated--as Schiller expressed it in a +line of his Prologue: "His camp alone explains to us his crime." By +this he meant that, on the one hand, the blind confidence of the +troops in the luck and the destiny of their leader made him arrogant +and reckless, and, on the other hand, perhaps, that the mercenary +character of these soldiers of fortune forced Wallenstein to steps +which his calm judgment would have condemned. + +In a succession of eleven scenes of very unequal length the various +arms of the service are introduced, together with camp followers and a +Capuchin preacher; in reminiscences the earlier features of the great +war and some feats of the general are recalled; in discussions the +character of Wallenstein and of his leading officers is sketched; +finally the report of the recent demand of the Emperor, that +Wallenstein detach 8,000 men to escort the Cardinal Infant to the +Netherlands, reveals the opposition of the army to such an order and +its unconditional loyalty to Wallenstein. + +The second and third parts of the trilogy, _The Piccolomini_ and +_Wallenstein's Death_, constitute, in fact, one ten-act play, which +requires two evenings for presentation. So slight is the organic +division between the two plays that, as first presented, in the fall +of 1798 and the spring of 1799, _The Piccolomini_ included the first +two acts of _Wallenstein's Death_ as later printed and here given, +while the last three acts were so divided as to constitute five. + +_The Piccolomini_, which could not be reprinted in this anthology, +presents essentially what is called the "exposition" of the entire +drama, together with a _part_ of the complication of the plot. +Questenberg, the imperial commissioner, visits Wallenstein's +headquarters in Pilsen to present the order of the Emperor for the +detachment of eight regiments of Wallenstein's best cavalry to serve +as escort to the Cardinal Infant on his way to the Netherlands. He +meets distrust and almost incredible defiance from Wallenstein's +officers, excepting Octavio Piccolomini, one of the oldest and most +trusted, to whom he brings secret dispatches directing him to +supersede Wallenstein in case of the latter's open rebellion, which +the court believes he has already determined upon. Wallenstein himself +meets the demands with a reproachful reference to the violation of the +plenary powers intrusted to him by the Emperor as the condition of his +assuming the command, but announces that he will relieve him from +embarrassment by resigning. This announcement is received with a storm +of protests from his officers. Questenberg and Octavio are deeply +concerned to make sure of the adherence to their cause of Octavio's +son, Max, a child of the camp and an especial favorite with +Wallenstein. Max has just arrived at Pilsen as escort of Wallenstein's +wife and of his daughter Thekla, to whom he has lost his heart. +Wallenstein and his masterful sister, Countess Terzky, are also eager +to secure Max to their side in the coming conflict, and the Countess +tries to persuade Thekla to govern her actions accordingly. Thekla, +however, is nobly frank with Max and warns him to trust only his own +heart; for she realizes that the threads of a dark plot are drawing +close about herself and Max, though she does not clearly understand +what it is. Meanwhile Terzky and Illo have planned a meeting of +Wallenstein's officers to protest against his withdrawal. In a +splendid banquet scene they present a written agreement (Revers) to +stand by the general _so far as loyalty to the Emperor will permit_, +and then, when all are heated with wine, secure signatures to a +substituted document from which this reservation of loyalty to the +Emperor is omitted. It is the hope of Illo and Terzky, through the +sight of this document, to persuade Wallenstein to open rebellion. Max +Piccolomini, coming late to the banquet from the interview with +Thekla, refuses to sign the pledge, not because he sees through the +deception, but because he is in no mood for business. Before morning +his father summons him, thinking Max has refused to sign because he +scented the intended treason, and reveals to him the whole +situation--the plots of the officers, Wallenstein's dangerous +negotiations with enemies of the Emperor, and his own commission to +take command and save whatever he can of loyal troops. Max is +thunder-truck. He can believe neither Wallenstein's purpose of +treason nor his father's duplicity in dealing behind the back of his +great commander. He refuses to follow his father's orders and leaves +him with the avowed intention of going to Wallenstein and calling upon +him to clear himself of the calumnious charges of the court. At this +point begins the action of _Wallenstein's Death_. + +In all of his later dramas excepting _William Tell_, Schiller +endeavored to introduce a factor which is called "the dramatic guilt," +a circumstance, usually in the character of the hero but sometimes in +his environment, which makes the tragic outcome inevitable and yet +leaves room in the breast of the reader or spectator for sympathy with +the hero in his fate. In the case of Wallenstein this "guilt" is the +dalliance with the love of power and the possibility of rebellion, not +a deliberate intention to commit treason. In the close of his +treatment of Wallenstein in The Thirty Years' War Schiller says: "No +one of his actions justifies us in considering him convicted of +treason. * * * Thus Wallenstein fell, not because he was a rebel, but +he rebelled because he fell." + +The circumstances are urged that Wallenstein was a prince of the +Empire, and had as such the right to negotiate with foreign powers; +that his delegated authority from the Emperor gave him the right to do +so in the Emperor's name; that the Emperor had not kept faith with +Wallenstein, and had thus justified him in at least frightening the +court; that self preservation seemed to indicate rebellion as the only +recourse; that Wallenstein's belief in his destiny and the fatuous +devotion of his army led him to reckless action; and finally that he +did not originally intend to commit actual treason. + +Thus prepared, the reader can easily sympathize with Wallenstein in +his downfall; this sympathy is entirely won by the admirable courage +with which Wallenstein bears the successive blows of fate, and it is +strengthened by consideration of the mean motives of the men who serve +as the tools of his execution, and by the remembrance that the fate of +Max and Thekla is bound up in his. Schiller was concerned lest the +love episode should detract from the interest due the chief persons +of the tragedy; his art has effected the exact opposite. + +The influence of Shakespeare is more or less obvious in all of +Schiller's later dramas. Aside from the splendid rhetoric of the +monologues, the character of Countess Terzky, so similar to that of +Lady Macheth, suggests this. But such influence is not so controlling +as to be in any respect a reproach to Schiller. Goethe in his generous +admiration considered Wallenstein "so great that nothing could be +compared with it." "In the imaginative power whereby history is made +into drama, in the triumph of artistic genius over a vast and +refractory mass of material, and in the skill with which the character +of the hero is conceived and denoted, _Wallenstein_ is unrivaled. Its +chief figure is by far the stateliest and most impressive of German +tragic heroes." [22] + + * * * * * + + + +THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + +WALLENSTEIN, _Duke of Friedland, +Generalissimo of the Imperial +Forces in the Thirty Years' War_. + +DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND, _Wife of +Wallenstein_. + +THEKLA, _her Daughter, Princess of +Friedland_. + +_The_ COUNTESS TERZKY, _Sister of the +Duchess_. + +LADY NEUBRUNN. + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, _Lieutenant-General_. + +MAX PICCOLOMINI, _his son, Colonel +of a regiment of Cuirassiers_. + +COUNT TERZKY, _the Commander of +several Regiments, and Brother-in-law +of Wallenstein_. + +ILLO, _Field Marshall, Wallenstein's +Confident_. + +ISOLANI, _General of the Croats_. + +BUTLER, _an Irishman, Commander +of a regiment of Dragoons_. + +GORDON, _Governor Egra_. + +MAJOR GERALDIN. + +CAPTAIN DEVEREUX. + +CAPTAIN MACDONALD. + +AN ADJUTANT. + +NEUMANN, _Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp +to Terzky_. + +COLONEL WRANGEL, _Envoy from the +Swedes_. + +ROSENBURG, _Master of Horse_. + +SWEDISH CAPTAIN. + +SENI. + +BURGOMASTER _of Egra_. + +ANSPESSADE _of the Cuirassiers_. + + +GROOM OF THE} _Belonging to_ +CHAMBER, } _the Duke_. +A PAGE, } + +_Cuirassiers, Dragoons, Servants_. + + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN AND SENI As performed at the +Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + + +THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN (1800)[23] + +TRANSLATED BY S.T. COLERIDGE + + + +ACT I + + +SCENE I + + +A Room fitted up for astrological labors, and provided with +celestial Charts, with Globes, Telescopes, Quadrants, and other +mathematical Instruments--Seven Colossal Figures, representing +the Planets, each circle in the background, so that Mars and +Saturn are nearest the eye.--The remainder of the Scene, and its +disposition, is given in the Fourth Scene of the Second +Act.--There must be a Curtain over the Figures, which may be +dropped, and conceal them on occasion. + +[_In the Fifth Scene of this Act it must be dropped; but in the +Seventh Scene it must be again drawn up wholly or in part._] + +WALLENSTEIN _at a black Table, on which a Speculum Astrologicum +is described with Chalk_. SENI _is taking Observations through a +window_. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +All well--and now let it be ended, Seni. Come, +The dawn commences, and Mars rules the hour. +We must give o'er the operation. Come, +We know enough. + +SENI. + + Your Highness must permit me +Just to contemplate Venus. She's now rising; +Like as a sun, so shines she in the east. + +WALLENST. + +She is at present in her perigee, +And now shoots down her strongest influences. + + [_Contemplating the figure on the table._] + +Auspicious aspect! fateful in conjunction, +At length the mighty three corradiate; +And the two stars of blessing, Jupiter +And Venus, take between them the malignant +Slily-malicious Mars, and thus compel +Into _my_ service that old mischief-founder: +For long he viewed me hostilely, and ever +With beam oblique, or perpendicular, +Now in the Quartile, now in the Secundan, +Shot his red lightnings at my stars, disturbing +Their blessed influences and sweet aspects. +Now they have conquer'd the old enemy, +And bring him in the heavens a prisoner to me. + +SENI (_who has come down from the window_). + +And in a corner house, your Highness--think of that! +That makes each influence of double strength. + +WALLENST. + +And sun and moon, too, in the Sextile aspect, +The soft light with the vehement--so I love it; +SOL is the heart, LUNA the head of heaven; +Bold be the plan, fiery the execution. + +SENI. + +And both the mighty Lumina by no +Maleficus _affronted_. Lo! Saturnus, +Innocuous, powerless, _in cadente Domo_. + +WALLENST. + +The empire of Saturnus is gone by; +Lord of the secret birth of things is he +Within the lap of earth, and in the depths +Of the imagination dominates; +And his are all things that eschew the light. +The time is o'er of brooding and contrivance, +For Jupiter, the lustrous, lordeth now, +And the dark work, complete of preparation, +He draws by force into the realm of light. +Now must we hasten on to action, ere +The scheme and most auspicious positure +Parts o'er my head, and takes once more its flight, +For the heavens journey still, and sojourn not. + + [_There are knocks at the door._] + +There's some one knocking there. See who it is. + +TERZKY (_from without_). + +Open, and let me in. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Ay--'tis Terzky. +What is there of such urgence? We are busy. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN AND TERZKY As performed at the +Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + +TERZKY (_from without_). + +Lay all aside at present, I entreat you. +It suffers no delaying. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Open, Seni! + +[_While_ SENI _opens the door for_ TERZKY, WALLENSTEIN +_draws the curtain over the figures_.] + + +SCENE II + + +WALLENSTEIN. COUNT TERZKY + +TERZKY (_enters_). + +Hast thou already heard it? He is taken. +Gallas has given him up to the Emperor. + + [SENI _draws off the black table, and exit_.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_to_ TERZKY). + +Who has been taken? Who is given up? + +TERZKY. + +The man who knows our secrets, who knows every +Negotiation with the Swede and Saxon, +Through whose hands all and everything has pass'd-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_drawing back_). + +Nay, not Sesina?--Say, No! I entreat thee. + +TERZKY. + +All on his road for Regensburg to the Swede +He was plunged down upon by Gallas' agent, +Who had been long in ambush, lurking for him. +There must have been found on him my whole packet +To Thur, to Kinsky, to Oxenstiern, to Arnheim: +All this is in their hands; they have now an insight +Into the whole--our measures and our motives. + + +SCENE III + + +_To them enters_ ILLO. + +ILLO (_to_ TERZKY). + +Has he heard it? + +TERZHY. + + He has heard it. + +ILLO (_to_ WALLENSTEIN). + + Thinkest thou still +To make thy peace with the Emperor, to regain +His confidence? E'en were it now thy wish +To abandon all thy plans, yet still they know +What thou hast wish'd: then forwards thou must press, +Retreat is now no longer in thy power. + +TERZKY. + +They have documents against us, and in hands, +Which show beyond all power of contradiction-- + +WALLENST. + +Of my handwriting--no iota. Thee +I punish for thy lies. + +ILLO. + + And thou believest, +That what this man, and what thy sister's husband, +Did in thy name, will not stand on thy reck'ning? +_His_ word must pass for thy word with the Swede, +And not with those that hate thee at Vienna? + +TERZKY. + +In writing thou gavest nothing--But bethink thee, +How far thou ventured'st by word of mouth +With this Sesina! And will he be silent? +If he can save himself by yielding up +Thy secret purposes, will he retain them? + +ILLO. + +Thyself dost not conceive it possible; +And since they now have evidence authentic +How far thou hast already gone, speak!--tell us, +What art thou waiting for? Thou canst no longer +Keep thy command; and beyond hope of rescue +Thou'rt lost, if thou resign'st it. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In the army +Lies my security. The army will not +Abandon me. Whatever they may know, +The power is mine, and they must gulp it down-- +And if I give them caution for my fealty, +They must be satisfied, at least appear so. + +ILLO. + +The army, Duke, _is_ thine now--for this moment-- +'Tis thine, but think with terror on the slow, +The quiet power of time. From open violence +The attachment of thy soldiery secures thee +Today--tomorrow: but grant'st thou them a respite +Unheard, unseen, they'll undermine that love +On which thou now dost feel so firm a footing, +With wily theft will draw away from thee +One after the other other-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis a cursed accident! + +ILLO. + +Oh! I will call it a most blessed one, +If it work on thee as it ought to do, +Hurry thee on to action--to decision. +The Swedish General-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + He's arrived! Know'st thou +What his commission is-- + +ILLO. + + To thee alone +Will he intrust the purpose of his coming. + +WALLENST. + +A cursed, cursed accident! Yes, yes, +Sesina knows too much, and won't be silent. + +TERZKY. + +He's a Bohemian fugitive and rebel, +His neck is forfeit. Can he save himself +At thy cost, think you he will scruple it? +And if they put him to the torture, will he, +Will _he_, that dastardling, have strength enough-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_lost in thought_). + +Their confidence is lost, irreparably! +And I may act which way I will, I shall +Be and remain forever in their thought +A traitor to my country. How sincerely +Soever I return back to my duty, +It will no longer help me-- + +ILLO. + + Ruin thee, +That it will do! Not thy fidelity, +Thy weakness will be deemed the sole occasion-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_pacing up and down in extreme agitation_). + +What! I must realize it now in earnest, +Because I toy'd too freely with the thought! +Accursed he who dallies with a devil! +And must I--I _must_ realize it now-- +Now, while I have the power, it _must_ take place? + +ILLO. + + Now--now--ere they can ward and parry it! + +WALLENSTEIN (_looking at the paper of signatures_). + +I have the Generals' word--a written promise! +Max Piccolomini stands not here--how's that? + +TERZKY. + +It was--he fancied-- + +ILLO. + + Mere self-willedness. +There needed no such thing 'twixt him and you. + +WALLENST. + +He is quite right; there needed no such thing. +The regiments, too, deny to march for Flanders-- +Have sent me in a paper of remonstrance, +And openly resist the Imperial orders. +The first step to revolt's already taken. + +ILLO. + +Believe me, thou wilt find it far more easy +To lead them over to the enemy +Than to the Spaniard. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I will hear, however, +What the Swede has to say to me. + +ILLO (_eagerly to_ TERZKY). + + Go, call him +He stands without the door in waiting. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Stay! +Stay but a little. It hath taken me +All by surprise; it came too quick upon me; +'Tis wholly novel that an accident, +With its dark lordship, and blind agency, +Should force me on with it. + +ILLO. + + First hear him only, +And after weigh it. + + [_Exeunt_ TERZKY _and_ ILLO.] + + +SCENE IV. + + +WALLENSTEIN (_in soliloquy_). + + Is it possible? +Is't so! I _can_ no longer what I _would_? +No longer draw back at my liking? I +Must _do_ the deed, because I _thought_ of it? +And fed this heart here with a dream? Because +I did not scowl temptation from my presence, +Dallied with thoughts of possible fulfilment, +Commenced no movement, left all time uncertain, +And only kept the road, the access open? +By the great God of Heaven! it was not +My serious meaning, it was ne'er resolved. +I but amused myself with thinking of it. +The free-will tempted me, the power to do +Or not to do it--Was it criminal +To make the fancy minister to hope, +To fill the air with pretty toys of air, +And clutch fantastic sceptres moving t'ward me! +Was not the will kept free? Beheld I not +The road of duty close beside me--but +One little step, and once more I was in it! +Where am I? Whither have I been transported? +No road, no track behind me, but a wall +Impenetrable, insurmountable, +Rises obedient to the spells I muttered +And meant not--my own doings tower behind me. + + [_Pauses and remains in deep thought._] + +A punishable man I seem; the guilt, +Try what I will, I cannot roll off from me; +The equivocal demeanor of my life +Bears witness on my prosecutor's party. +And even my purest acts from purest motives +Suspicion poisons with malicious gloss. +Were I that thing for which I pass, that traitor, +A goodly outside I had sure reserved, +Had drawn the coverings thick and double round me, +Been calm and chary of my utterance; +But being conscious of the innocence +Of my intent, my uncorrupted will, +I gave way to my humors, to my passion: +Bold were my words, because my deeds were _not_. +Now every planless measure, chance event, +The threat of rage, the vaunt of joy and triumph, +And all the May-games of a heart o'erflowing, +Will they connect, and weave them all together +Into one web of treason; all will be plain, +My eye ne'er absent from the far-off mark, +Step tracing step, each step a politic progress; +And out of all they'll fabricate a charge +So specious that I must myself stand dumb. +I am caught in my own net, and only force, +Nought but a sudden rent, can liberate me. + + [_Pauses again._] + +How else! since that the heart's unbias'd instinct +Impell'd me to the daring deed, which now +Necessity, self-preservation, _orders_. +Stern is the on-look of Necessity, +Not without shudder may a human hand +Grasp the mysterious urn of destiny. +My deed was mine, remaining in my bosom: +Once suffer'd to escape from its safe corner +Within the heart, its nursery and birth-place, +Sent forth into the Foreign, it belongs +Forever to those sly malicious powers +Whom never art of man conciliated. + +[_Paces in agitation through the chamber, then pauses, and +after the pause breaks out again into audible soliloquy._] + +What is thy enterprise? thy aim? thy object? +Hast honestly confess'd it to thyself? +Power seated on a quiet throne thou'dst shake, +Power on an ancient consecrated throne, +Strong in possession, founded in all custom; +Power by a thousand tough and stringy roots +Fix'd to the people's pious nursery-faith. +This, this will be no strife of strength with strength. +That fear'd I not. I brave each combatant, +Whom I can look on, fixing eye to eye, +Who, full himself of courage, kindles courage +In me too. 'Tis a foe invisible +The which I fear--a fearful enemy, +Which in the human heart opposes me, +By its coward fear alone made fearful to me. +Not that, which full of life, instinct with power, +Makes known its present being; that is not +The true, the perilously formidable. +O no! it is the common, the quite common, +The thing of an eternal yesterday. +What ever was, and evermore returns, +Sterling tomorrow, for today 'twas sterling! +For of the wholly common is man made, +And custom is his nurse! Woe then to them +Who lay irreverent hands upon his old +House furniture, the dear inheritance +From his forefathers! For time consecrates; +And what is gray with age becomes religion. +Be in possession, and thou hast the right, +And sacred will the many guard it for thee! + + [_To the_ PAGE _who here enters_.] + +The Swedish officer?--Well, let him enter. + +[_The_ PAGE _exit_, WALLENSTEIN _fixes his eye in deep +thought on the door_.] + +Yet is it pure--as yet!--the crime has come +Not o'er this threshold yet--so slender is +The boundary that divideth life's two paths. + + +SCENE V + + +WALLENSTEIN _and_ WRANGEL + + +WALLENSTEIN (_after having fixed a searching look on him_). + +Your name is Wrangel? + +WRANGEL. + + Gustave Wrangel, General +Of the Sudermanian Blues. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + It was a Wrangel +Who injured me materially at Stralsund, +And by his brave resistance was the cause +Of the opposition which that sea-port made. + +WRANGEL. + +It was the doing of the element +With which you fought, my Lord! and not my merit. +The Baltic Neptune did assert his freedom: +The sea and land, it seem'd, were not to serve +One and the same. + +[WALLENST. + +You pluck'd the Admiral's hat from off my head. + +WRANGEL. + +I come to place a diadem thereon.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_makes the motion for him to take a seat, and +seats himself_). + + And where are your credentials? +Come you provided with full powers, Sir General? + +WRANGEL. + +There are so many scruples yet to solve-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_having read the credentials_). + +An able letter!--Ay--he is a prudent +Intelligent master whom you serve, Sir General! +The Chancellor writes me, that he but fulfils +His late departed Sovereign's own idea +In helping me to the Bohemian crown. + +WRANGEL. + +He says the truth. Our great King, now in heaven, +Did ever deem most highly of your Grace's +Preeminent sense and military genius; +And always the commanding Intellect, +He said, should have command, and be the King. + +WALLENST. + +Yes, he _might_ say it safely.--General Wrangel, + + [_Taking his hand affectionately._] + +Come, fair and open. Trust me, I was always +A Swede at heart. Eh! that did you experience +Both in Silesia and at Nuremberg; +I had you often in my power, and let you +Always slip out by some back door or other. +'Tis this for which the Court can ne'er forgive me, +Which drives me to this present step: and since +Our interests so run in one direction, +E'en let us have a thorough confidence +Each in the other. + +WRANGEL. + + Confidence will come +Has each but only first security. + +WALLENST. + +The Chancellor still, I see, does not quite trust me; +And, I confess--the game does not lie wholly +To my advantage. Without doubt he thinks, +If I can play false with the Emperor, +Who is my sovereign, I can do the like +With the enemy, and that _the one_ too were +Sooner to be forgiven me than the _other_. +Is not this your opinion, too, Sir General? + +WRANGEL. + +I have here a duty merely, no opinion. + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor hath urged me to the uttermost: +I can no longer honorably serve him; +For my security, in self-defence, +I take this hard step, which my conscience blames. + +WRANGEL. + +That I believe. So far would no one go +Who was not forced to it. + + [_After a pause_.] + + What may have impell'd +Your princely Highness in this wise to act +Toward your Sovereign Lord and Emperor, +Beseems not us to expound or criticise. +The Swede is fighting for his good old cause, +With his good sword and conscience. This concurrence, +This opportunity, is in our favor, +And all advantages in war are lawful. +We take what offers without questioning; +And if all have its due and just proportions-- + +WALLENST. + +Of what then are ye doubting? Of my will? +Or of my power? I pledged me to the Chancellor, +Would he trust _me_ with sixteen thousand men, +That I would instantly go over to them +With eighteen thousand of the Emperor's troops. + +WRANGEL. + +Your Grace is known to be a mighty war-chief, +To be a second Attila and Pyrrhus. +'Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment, +How some years past, beyond all human faith, +You call'd an army forth, like a creation: +But yet-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + +But yet? + +WRANGEL. + + But still the Chancellor thinks +It might yet be an easier thing from nothing +To call forth sixty thousand men of battle, +Than to persuade one sixtieth part of them-- + +WALLENST. + +What now? Out with it, friend! + +WRANGEL. + + To break their oaths. + +WALLENST. + +And he thinks _so_? He judges like a Swede, +And like a Protestant. You Lutherans +Fight for your Bible. You are interested +About the cause; and with your _hearts_ you follow +Your banners. Among _you_, whoe'er deserts +To the enemy hath broken covenant +With two Lords at one time. We've no such fancies. + +WRANGEL. + +Great God in Heaven! Have then the people here +No house and home, no fireside, no altar? + +WALLENST. + +I will explain that to you, how it stands:-- +The Austrian _has_ a country, ay, and loves it, +And has good cause to love it--but this army, +That calls itself the Imperial, this that houses +Here in Bohemia, this has none--no country; +This is an outcast of all foreign lands, +Unclaim'd by town or tribe, to whom belongs +Nothing except the universal sun. +And this Bohemian land for which we fight-- +[Loves not the master whom the chance of war, +Not its own choice or will, hath given to it. +Men murmur at the oppression of their conscience, +And power hath only awed but not appeased them; +A glowing and avenging mem'ry lives +Of cruel deeds committed on these plains; +How can the son forget that here his father +Was hunted by the blood-hound to the mass? +A people thus oppress'd must still be feared, +Whether they suffer or avenge their wrongs.] + +WRANGEL. + +But then the Nobles and the Officers? +Such a desertion, such a felony, +It is without example, my Lord Duke, +In the world's history. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + They are all mine-- +Mine unconditionally--mine on all terms. +Not me, your own eyes you must trust. + +[_He gives him the paper containing the written oath._ +WRANGEL _reads it through, and, having read it, lays it on +the table, remaining silent_.] + + So then? +Now comprehend you? + +WRANGEL. + + Comprehend who can! +My Lord Duke, I will let the mask drop--yes! +I've full powers for a final settlement. +The Rhinegrave stands but four days' march from here +With fifteen thousand men, and only waits +For orders to proceed and join your army. +Those orders _I_ give out, immediately +We're compromised. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What asks the Chancellor? + +WRANGEL (_considerately_). + +Twelve regiments, every man a Swede--my head +The warranty--and all might prove at last +Only false play-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_starting_). + + Sir Swede! + +WRANGEL (_calmly proceeding_). + + Am therefore forced +T' insist thereon, that he do formally, +Irrevocably break with the Emperor, +Else not a Swede is trusted to Duke Friedland. + +WALLENST. + +Come, brief, and open! What is the demand? + +WRANGEL. + +That he forthwith disarm the Spanish regiments +Attached to the Emp'ror, that he seize on Prague, +And to the Swedes give up that city, with +The strong pass Egra. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That is much indeed! +Prague!--Egra's granted--but--but Prague!--'T won't do. +I give you every security +Which you may ask of me in common reason-- +But Prague--Bohemia--these, Sir General, +I can myself protect. + +WRANGEL. + + We doubt it not. +But 'tis not the protection that is now +Our sole concern. We want security +That we shall not expend our men and money +All to no purpose. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis but reasonable. + +WRANGEL. + +And till we are indemnified, so long +Stays Prague in pledge. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Then trust you us so little? + +WRANGEL (_rising_). + +The Swede, if he would treat well with the German, +Must keep a sharp look-out. We have been call'd +Over the Baltic, we have saved the empire +From ruin--with our best blood have we sealed +The liberty of faith and gospel truth. +But now already is the benefaction +No longer felt, the load alone is felt. +Ye look askance with evil eye upon us, +As foreigners, intruders in the empire, +And would fain send us, with some paltry sum +Of money, home again to our old forests. +No, no! my Lord Duke! no!--it never was +For Judas' pay, for chinking gold and silver, +That we did leave our King by the Great Stone[24] +No, not for gold and silver have there bled +So many of our Swedish Nobles--neither +Will we, with empty laurels for our payment, +Hoist sail for our own country. _Citizens_ +Will we remain upon the soil, the which +Our Monarch conquer'd for himself, and died. + +WALLENST. + +Help to keep down the common enemy, +And the fair border land must needs be yours. + +WRANGEL. + +But when the common enemy lies vanquish'd, +Who knits together our new friendship then? +We know, Duke Friedland! though perhaps the Swede +Ought not to have known it, that you carry on +Secret negotiations with the Saxons. +Who is our warranty, that _we_ are not +The sacrifices in those articles +Which 'tis thought needful to conceal from us? + +WALLENSTEIN (_rises_). + +Think you of something better, Gustave Wrangel! +Of Prague no more. + +WRANGEL. + + Here my commission ends. + +WALLENST. + +Surrender up to you my capital! +Far liever would I face about, and step +Back to my Emperor. + +WRANGEL. + + If time yet permits-- + +WALLENST. + +That lies with me, even now, at any hour. + +WRANGEL. + +Some days ago, perhaps. Today, no longer; +No longer since Sesina's been a prisoner. + + [WALLENSTEIN _is struck, and silenced_.] + +My Lord Duke, hear me--We believe that you +At present do mean honorably by us. +Since _yesterday_ we're sure of that--and now +This paper warrants for the troops, there's nothing +Stands in the way of our full confidence. +Prague shall not part us. Hear! The Chancellor +Contents himself with Altstadt; to your Grace +He gives up Ratschin and the narrow side. +But Egra above all must open to us, +Ere we can think of any junction. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + You, +You therefore must I trust, and not you me? +I will consider of your proposition. + +WRANGEL. + +I must entreat that your consideration +Occupy not too long a time. Already +Has this negotiation, my Lord Duke, +Crept on into the second year! If nothing +Is settled this time, will the Chancellor +Consider it as broken off for ever. + +WALLENST. + +Ye press me hard. A measure such as this, +Ought to be _thought_ of. + +WRANGEL. + + Ay! but think of this too, +That sudden action only can procure it +Success--think first of this, your Highness. + + [_Exit_ WRANGEL.] + + +SCENE VI + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, _and_ ILLO (_re-enter_) + +ILLO. + + It's all right? + +TERZKY. + + Are you compromised? + +ILLO. + + This Swede +Went smiling from you. Yes! you're compromised. + +WALLENST. + +As yet is nothing settled: and (well weighed) +I feel myself inclined to leave it so. + +TERZKY. + +How? What is that? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Come on me what will come, +The doing evil to avoid an evil +Cannot be good! + +TERZKY. + + Nay, but bethink you, Duke. + +WALLENST. + +To live upon the mercy of these Swedes! +Of these proud-hearted Swedes!--I could not bear it. + +ILLO. + +Goest thou as fugitive, as mendicant? +Bringest thou not more to them than thou receivest? + +WALLENST. + +How fared it with the brave and royal Bourbon +Who sold himself unto his country's foes, +And pierced the bosom of his father-land? +Curses were his reward, and men's abhorrence +Avenged th' unnatural and revolting deed. + +ILLO. + +Is that thy case? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + True faith, I tell thee, +Must ever be the dearest friend of man: +His nature prompts him to assert its rights. +The enmity of sects, the rage of parties, +Long cherish'd envy, jealousy, unite; +And all the struggling elements of evil +Suspend their conflict, and together league +In one alliance 'gainst their common foe-- +The savage beast that breaks into the fold, +Where men repose in confidence and peace. +For vain were man's own prudence to protect him. +'Tis only in the forehead nature plants +The watchful eye--the back, without defence, +Must find its shield in man's fidelity. + +TERZKY. + +Think not more meanly of thyself than do +Thy foes, who stretch their hands with joy to greet thee; +Less scrupulous far was the Imperial Charles, +The powerful head of this illustrious house; +With open arms he gave the Bourbon welcome; +For still by policy the world is ruled. + + +SCENE VII + +_To these enter the_ COUNTESS TERZKY + +WALLENST. + +Who sent for you? There is no business here +For women. + +COUNTESS. + + I am come to bid you joy. + +WALLENST. + +Use thy authority, Terzky; bid her go. + +COUNTESS. + +Come I perhaps too early? I hope not. + +WALLENST. + +Set not this tongue upon me, I entreat you: +You know it is the weapon that destroys me. +I am routed, if a woman but attack me: +I cannot traffic in the trade of words +With that unreasoning sex. + +COUNTESS. + + I had already +Given the Bohemians a king. + +WALLENSTEIN (_sarcastically_). + + They have one, +In consequence, no doubt. + +COUNTESS (_to the others_). + + Ha! what new scruple? + +TERZKY. + +The Duke will not. + +COUNTESS. + + He _will not_ what he _must_! + +ILLO. + +It lies with you now. Try. For I am silenced +When folks begin to talk to me of conscience +And of fidelity. + +COUNTESS. + + How? then, when all +Lay in the far-off distance, when the road +Stretch'd out before thine eyes interminably, +Then hadst thou courage and resolve; and now, +Now that the dream is being realized, +The purpose ripe, the issue ascertain'd, +Dost thou begin to play the dastard now? +Plann'd merely, 'tis a common felony; +Accomplish'd, an immortal undertaking: +And with success comes pardon hand in hand, +For all event is God's arbitrament. + +SERVANT (_enters_). + +The Colonel Piccolomini. + +COUNTESS (_hastily_). + +Must wait. + +WALLENST. + +I cannot see him now. Another time. + +SERVANT. + +But for two minutes he entreats an audience: +Of the most urgent nature is his business. + +WALLENST. + +Who knows what he may bring us! I will hear him. + +COUNTESS (_laughs_). + +Urgent for him, no doubt? but thou may'st wait. + +WALLENST. + +What is it? + +COUNTESS. + + Thou shalt be inform'd hereafter. +First let the Swede and thee be compromised. + +[_Exit_ SERVANT.] + +WALLENST. + +If there were yet a choice! if yet some milder +Way of escape were possible--I still +Will choose it, and avoid the last extreme. + +COUNTESS. + +Desirest thou nothing further? Such a way +Lies still before thee. Send this Wrangel off. +Forget thou thy old hopes, cast far away +All thy past life; determine to commence +A new one. Virtue hath her heroes too, +As well as fame and fortune.--To Vienna +Hence--to the Emperor--kneel before the throne +Take a full coffer with thee--say aloud, +Thou didst but wish to prove thy fealty; +Thy whole intention but to dupe the Swede. + +ILLO. + +For that too 'tis too late. They know too much; +He would but bear his own head to the block. + +COUNTESS. + +I fear not that. They have not evidence +To attaint him legally, and they avoid +The avowal of an arbitrary power. +They'll let the Duke resign without disturbance. +I see how all will end. The King of Hungary +Makes his appearance, and 'twill of itself +Be understood that then the Duke retires. +There will not want a formal declaration; +The young King will administer the oath +To the whole army; and so all returns +To the old position. On some morrow morning +The Duke departs; and now 'tis stir and bustle +Within his castles. He will hunt, and build, +And superintend his horses' pedigrees; +Creates himself a court, gives golden keys, +And introduces strictest ceremony +In fine proportions, and nice etiquette; +Keeps open table with high cheer: in brief, +Commences mighty King--in miniature. +And while he prudently demeans himself, +And gives himself no actual importance, +He will be let appear whate'er he likes; +And who dares doubt that Friedland will appear +A mighty Prince to his last dying hour? +Well now, what then? Duke Friedland is as others, +A fire-new Noble, whom the war hath raised +To price and currency, a Jonah's gourd, +An over-night creation of court-favor, +Which with an undistinguishable ease +Makes Baron or makes Prince. + +WALLENSTEIN (_in extreme agitation_). + + Take her away. +Let in the young Count Piccolomini. + +COUNTESS. + +Art thou in earnest? I entreat thee! Canst thou +Consent to bear thyself to thy own grave, +So ignominiously to be dried up? +Thy life, that arrogated such an height +To end in such a nothing! To be nothing, +When one was always nothing, is an evil +That asks no stretch of patience, a light evil; +But to become a nothing, having been-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_starts up in violent agitation_). + +Show me a way out of this stifling crowd, +Ye powers of Aidance! Show me such a way +As _I_ am capable of going. I +Am no tongue-hero, no fine virtue-prattler; +I cannot warm by thinking; cannot say +To the good luck that turns her back upon me, +Magnanimously: "Go; I need thee not." +Cease I to work, I am annihilated. +Dangers nor sacrifices will I shun, +If so I may avoid the last extreme; +But ere I sink down into nothingness, +Leave off so little, who began so great, +Ere that the world confuses me with those +Poor wretches whom a day creates and crumbles, +This age and after ages[25] speak my name +With hate and dread; and Friedland be redemption +For each accursed deed. + +COUNTESS. + + What is there here, then, +So against nature? Help me to perceive it! +O let not Superstition's nightly goblins +Subdue thy clear bright spirit! Art thou bid +To murder?--with abhorr'd, accursed poinard, +To violate the breasts that nourish'd thee? +That _were_ against our nature, that might aptly +Make thy flesh shudder, and thy whole heart sicken,[26] +Yet not a few, and for a meaner object, +Have ventured even this, ay, and perform'd it. +What is there in thy case so black and monstrous? +Thou art accused of treason--whether with +Or without justice is not now the question-- +Thou art lost if thou dost not avail thee quickly +Of the power which thou possessest--Friedland! _Duke!_ +Tell me where lives that thing so meek and tame, +That doth not all his living faculties +Put forth in preservation of his life? +What deed so daring, which necessity +And desperation will not sanctify? + +WALLENST. + +Once was this Ferdinand so gracious to me; +He loved me; he esteem'd me; I was placed +The nearest to his heart. Full many a time +We like familiar friends, both at one table, +Have banqueted together. He and I-- +And the young kings themselves held me the basin +Wherewith to wash me--and is't come to this? + +COUNTESS. + +So faithfully preserves thou each small favor, +And hast no memory for contumelies? +Must I remind thee, how at Regensburg +This man repaid thy faithful services? +All ranks and all conditions in the empire +Thou hadst wronged, to make him great,--hadst loaded on thee, +On _thee_, the hate, the curse of the whole world. +No friend existed for thee in all Germany, +And why? because thou hadst existed only +For the Emperor. To the Emperor alone +Clung Friedland in that storm which gather'd round him +At Regensburg in the Diet--and he dropp'd thee! +He let thee fall! he let thee fall a victim +To the Bavarian, to that insolent! +Deposed, stript bare of all thy dignity +And power, amid the taunting of thy foes, +Thou wert let drop into obscurity.-- +Say not the restoration of thy honor +Has made atonement for that first injustice. +No honest good-will was it that replaced thee; +The law of hard necessity replaced thee, +Which they had fain opposed, but that they could not. + +WALLENST. + +Not to their good wishes, that is certain, +Nor yet to his affection I'm indebted +For this high office: and if I abuse it, +I shall therein abuse no confidence. + +COUNTESS. + +Affection! confidence!--they _needed_ thee. +Necessity, impetuous remonstrant! +Who not with empty names, or shows of proxy, +Is served, who'll have the thing and not the symbol, +Ever seeks out the greatest and the best, +And at the rudder places _him_, e'en though +She had been forced to take him from the rabble-- +She, this Necessity, it was that placed thee +In this high office; it was she that gave thee +Thy letters patent of inauguration. +For, to the uttermost moment that they can, +This race still help themselves at cheapest rate +With slavish souls, with puppets! At the approach +Of extreme peril, when a hollow image +Is found a hollow image and no more, +Then falls the power into the mighty hands +Of Nature, of the spirit giant-born, +Who listens only to himself, knows nothing +Of stipulations, duties, reverences, +And, like the emancipated force of fire, +Unmaster'd scorches, ere it reaches them, +Their fine-spun webs, their artificial policy. + +WALLENST. + +'Tis true! they saw me always as I am-- +Always! I did not cheat them in the bargain. +I never held it worth my pains to hide +The bold all-grasping habit of my soul. + +COUNTESS. + +Nay rather--thou hast ever shown thyself +A formidable man, without restraint; +Hast exercised the full prerogatives +Of thy impetuous nature, which had been +Once granted to thee. Therefore, Duke, not _thou_ +Who hast still remained consistent with thyself; +But _they_ are in the wrong, who fearing thee, +Intrusted such a power in hand they fear'd. +For, by the laws of Spirit, in the right +Is every individual character +That acts in strict consistence with itself. +Self-contradiction is the only wrong. +Wert thou another being, then, when thou +Eight years ago pursuedst thy march with fire, +And sword, and desolation, through the Circles +Of Germany, the universal scourge, +Didst mock all ordinances of the empire, +The fearful rights of strength alone exertedst, +Trampledst to earth each rank, each magistracy, +All to extend thy Sultan's domination? +Then was the time to break thee in, to curb +Thy haughty will, to teach thee ordinance. +But no, the Emperor felt no touch of conscience; +What served him pleased him, and without a murmur +He stamp'd his broad seal on these lawless deeds. +What at that time was right, because thou didst it +_For him_, today is all at once become +Opprobrious, foul, because it is directed +_Against him_.--O most flimsy superstition! + +WALLENSTEIN (_rising_). + +I never saw it in this light before; +'Tis even so. The Emperor perpetrated +Deeds through my arm, deeds most unorderly. +And even this prince's mantle, which I wear, +I owe to what were services to him, +But most high misdemeanors 'gainst the empire. + +COUNTESS. + +Then betwixt thee and him (confess it Friedland!) +The point can be no more of right and duty, +Only of power and the opportunity. +That opportunity, lo! it comes yonder +Approaching with swift steeds; then with a swing +Throw thyself up into the chariot-seat, +Seize with firm hand the reins, ere thy opponent +Anticipate thee, and himself make conquest +Of the now empty seat. The moment comes; +It is already here, when thou must write +The absolute total of thy life's vast sum. +The constellations stand victorious o'er thee, +The planets shoot good fortune in fair junctions, +And tell thee, "Now's the time!" The starry courses +Hast thou thy life long measured to no purpose? +The quadrant and the circle, were they play-things? + +[_Pointing to the different objects in the room_.] + +The zodiacs, the rolling orbs of heaven, +Hast pictured on these walls, and all around thee +In dumb, foreboding symbols hast thou placed +These seven presiding Lords of Destiny-- +For toys? Is all this preparation nothing? +Is there no marrow in this hollow art, +That even to thyself it doth avail +Nothing, and has no influence over thee +In the great moment of decision?-- + +WALLENSTEIN. (_during this last speech walks up and down with +inward struggles, laboring with passion; stops suddenly, +stands still, then interrupting the_ COUNTESS). + +Send Wrangel to me--I will instantly +Dispatch three couriers-- + +ILLO (_hurrying out_). + + God in heaven be praised! + +WALLENST. + +It is _his_ evil genius and _mine_. +Our evil genius! It chastises _him_ +Through me, the instrument of his ambition; +And I expect no less than that Revenge +E'en now is whetting for _my_ breast the poinard. +Who sows the serpent's teeth, let him not hope +To reap a joyous harvest. Every crime +Has, in the moment of its perpetration, +Its own avenging angel--dark misgiving, +An ominous sinking at the inmost heart. +He can no longer trust me. Then no longer +Can I retreat--so come that which must come. +Still destiny preserves its due relations, +The heart within us is its absolute +Vicegerent. + +[_To TERZKY_.] + + Go, conduct you Gustave Wrangel +To my state-cabinet.--Myself will speak to +The couriers.--And dispatch immediately +A servant for Octavio Piccolomini. + +[_To the _COUNTESS, _who cannot conceal her triumph_.] + +No exultation! woman, triumph not! +For jealous are the Powers of Destiny. +Joy premature, and shouts ere victory, +Encroach upon their rights and privileges. +We sow the seed, and they the growth determine. + +[_While he is making his exit the curtain drops_.] + + * * * * * + + + +ACT II + + +SCENE I + +_Scene, as in the preceding Act_ + +WALLENSTEIN, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI + +WALLENSTEIN (_coming forward in conversation_). + +He sends me word from Linz that he lies sick; +But I have sure intelligence that he +Secretes himself at Frauenberg with Gallas. +Secure them both, and send them to me hither. +Remember, thou takest on thee the command +Of those same Spanish regiments,--constantly +Make preparation, and be never ready; +And if they urge thee to draw out against me, +Still answer YES, and stand as thou wert fetter'd; +I know that it is doing thee a service +To keep thee out of action in this business. +Thou lovest to linger on in fair appearances; +Steps of extremity are not thy province; +Therefore have I sought out this part for thee. +Thou wilt this time be of most service to me +By thy inertness. The mean time, if fortune +Declare itself on my side, thou wilt know +What is to do. + +_Enter_ MAX PICCOLOMINI + + Now go, Octavio. +This night must thou be off, take my own horses +Him here I keep with me--make short farewell-- +Trust me, I think, we all shall meet again +In joy and thriving fortunes. + +OCTAVIO (_to his son_). + + I shall see you +Yet ere I go. + + +SCENE II + +WALLENSTEIN, MAX PICCOLOMINI + +MAX. (_advances to him_). + +My General? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That I am no longer, if +Thou stylest thyself the Emperor's officer. + +MAX. + +Then thou wilt leave the army, General? + +WALLENST. + +I have renounced the service of the Emperor. + +MAX. + +And thou wilt leave the army? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Rather hope I +To bind it nearer still and faster to me. + +[_He seats himself_.] + +Yes, Max, I have delay'd to open it to thee, +Even till the hour of acting 'gins to strike. +Youth's fortunate feeling doth seize easily +The absolute right, yea, and a joy it is +To exercise the single apprehension +Where the sums square in proof; +But where it happens that of two sure evils +One must be taken, where the heart not wholly +Brings itself back from out the strife of duties, +There 'tis a blessing to have no election, +And blank necessity is grace and favor. +--This is now present: do not look behind thee,-- +It can no more avail thee. Look thou forwards! +Think not! judge not! prepare thyself to act! +The Court--it hath determined on my ruin, +Therefore I will be beforehand with them. +We'll join the Swedes--right gallant fellows are they, +And our good friends. + +[_He stops himself, expecting_ PICCOLOMINI's _answer_.] + +I have ta'en thee by surprise. Answer me not. +I grant thee time to recollect thyself. + +[_He rises, retires at the back of the stage_. MAX _remains for a +long time motionless, in a trance of excessive anguish. At his +first motion_ WALLENSTEIN _returns, and places himself before +him_.] + +MAX. + +My General, this day thou makest me +Of age to speak in my own right and person, +For till this day I have been spared the trouble +To find out my own road. Thee have I follow'd +With most implicit unconditional faith, +Sure of the right path if I follow'd thee. +Today, for the first time, dost thou refer +Me to myself, and forcest me to make +Election between thee and my own heart. + +WALLENST. + +Soft cradled thee thy Fortune till today; +Thy duties thou couldst exercise in sport, +Indulge all lovely instincts, act forever +With undivided heart. It can remain +No longer thus. Like enemies, the roads +Start from each other. Duties strive with duties. +Thou must needs choose thy party in the war +Which is now kindling 'twixt thy friend and him +Who is thy Emperor. + +MAX. + + War! is that the name? +War is as frightful as heaven's pestilence, +Yet it is good. Is it heaven's will as that is? +Is that a good war, which against the Emperor +Thou wagest with the Emperor's own army? +O God of heaven! what a change is this! +Beseems it me to offer such persuasion +To thee, who like the fix'd star of the pole +Wert all I gazed at on life's trackless ocean? +O! what a rent thou makest in my heart! +The ingrain'd instinct of old reverence, +The holy habit of obediency, +Must I pluck live asunder from thy name? +Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me-- +It always was as a god looking upon me! +Duke Wallenstein, its power has not departed. +The senses still are in thy bonds, although, +Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Max, hear me. + +MAX. + +O! do it not, I pray thee, do it not! +There is a pure and noble soul within thee +Knows not of this unblest, unlucky doing. +Thy will is chaste, it is thy fancy only +Which hath polluted thee; and innocence-- +It will not let itself be driven away +From that world-awing aspect. Thou wilt not, +Thou canst not, end in this. It would reduce +All human creatures to disloyalty +Against the nobleness of their own nature. +'Twill justify the vulgar misbelief +Which holdeth nothing noble in free will +And trusts itself to impotence alone +Made powerful only in an unknown power. + +WALLENST. + +The world will judge me sternly, I expect it. +Already have I said to my own self +All thou canst say to me. Who but avoids +The extreme, can he by going round avoid it? +But here there is no choice. Yes--I must use +Or suffer violence--so stands the case; +There remains nothing possible but that. + +MAX. + +O that is never possible for thee! +'Tis the last desperate resource of those +Cheap souls to whom their honor, their good name +Is their poor _saving_, their last worthless _keep_, +Which, having staked and lost, they stake themselves +In the mad rage of gaming. Thou art rich +And glorious; with an unpolluted heart +Thou canst make conquest of whate'er seems highest! +But he, who once hath acted infamy, +Does nothing more in this world. + +WALLENSTEIN (_grasps his hand_). + + Calmly, Max! +Much that is great and excellent will we +Perform together yet. And if we only +Stand on the height with dignity, 'tis soon +Forgotten, Max, by what road we ascended. +Believe me, many a crown shines spotless now +That yet was deeply sullied in the winning. +To the evil spirit doth the earth belong, +Not to the good. All that the powers divine +Send from above are universal blessings, +Their light rejoices us, their air refreshes, +But never yet was man enrich'd by them +In their eternal realm no _property_ +Is to be struggled for--all there is general +The jewel, the all-valued gold we win +From the deceiving Powers, depraved in nature, +That dwell beneath the day and blessed sun-light. +Not without sacrifices are they render'd +Propitious, and there lives no soul on earth +That e'er retired unsullied from their service. + +MAX. + +Whate'er is human, to the human being +Do I allow--and to the vehement +And striving spirit readily I pardon +The excess of action; but to thee, my General, +Above _all_ others make I large concession. +For thou must move a world, and be the master-- +He kills thee who condemns thee to inaction. +So be it then! maintain thee in thy post +By violence. Resist the Emperor, +And, if it must be, force with force repel: +I will not praise it, yet I can forgive it. +But not--not to the _traitor_--yes!--the word +Is spoken out-- +Not to the traitor can I yield a pardon. +That is no mere excess! that is no error +Of human nature--that is wholly different; +O that is black, black as the pit of hell! + + [WALLENSTEIN _betrays a sudden agitation_.] + +Thou canst not hear it _named_, and wilt thou _do_ it? +O, turn back to thy duty! That thou canst +I hold it certain. Send me to Vienna: +I'll make thy peace for thee with the Emperor. +He knows thee not. But I do know thee. He +Shall see thee, Duke, with my unclouded eye, +And I bring back his confidence to thee. + +WALLENST. + +It is too late! Thou knowest not what has happen'd. + +MAX. + +Were it too late, and were things gone so far, +That a crime only could prevent thy fall, +Then--fall! fall honorably, even as thou stood'st! +Lose the command. Go from the stage of war, +Thou canst with splendor do it--do it too +With innocence. Thou hast lived much for others, +At length live thou for thy own self. I follow thee; +My destiny I never part from thine. + +WALLENST. + +It is too late! Even now, while thou art losing +Thy words, one after the other are the milestones +Left fast behind by my post couriers +Who bear the order on to Prague and Egra. + +[MAX _stands as convulsed, with a gesture and_ _countenance +expressing the most intense_ _anguish_.] + +Yield thyself to it. We act as we are forced. +_I_ cannot give assent to my own shame +And ruin. _Thou_--no--thou canst not forsake me! +So let us do what must be done, with dignity, +With a firm step. What am I doing worse +Than did famed Caesar at the Rubicon, +When he the legions led against his country, +The which his country had delivered to him? +Had he thrown down the sword he had been lost, +As I were if I but disarm'd myself. +I trace out something in me of this spirit; +Give me his luck, _that other thing_ I'll bear. + +[MAX _quits him abruptly_. WALLENSTEIN _startled and +overpowered, continues looking after him and is still in +this posture when_ TERZKY _enters_.] + + +SCENE III + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY + +TERZKY. + +Max Piccolomini just left you? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Where is Wrangel? + +TERZKY. + +He is already gone. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In such a hurry? + +TERZKY. + +It is as if the earth had swallow'd him. +He had scarce left thee when I went to seek him. +I wish'd some words with him--but he was gone. +How, when, and where, could no one tell me. Nay, +I half believe it was the devil himself; +A human creature could not so at once +Have vanish'd. + +ILLO (_enters_). + + Is it true that thou wilt send +Octavio? + +TERZKY. + + How, Octavio! Whither send him? + +WALLENST. + +He goes to Frauenburg, and will lead hither +The Spanish and Italian regiments. + +ILLO. + + No! +Nay, Heaven forbid! + +WALLENSTEIN. + +And why should Heaven forbid? + +ILLO. + +Him!--that deceiver! Wouldst thou trust to him +The soldiery? Him wilt thou let slip from thee, +Now in the very instant that decides us-- + +TERZKY. + +Thou wilt not do this--No! I pray thee, no! + +WALLENST. + +Ye are whimsical. + +ILLO. + + O but for this time, Duke, +Yield to our warning! Let him not depart. + +WALLENST. + +And why should I not trust him only this time, +Who have always trusted him? What, then, has happen'd +That I should lose my good opinion of him? +In complaisance to your whims, not my own, +I must, forsooth, give up a rooted judgment. +Think not I am a woman. Having trusted him +E'en till today, today too will I trust him. + +TERZKY. + +Must it be he--he only? Send another. + +WALLENST. + +It must be he whom I myself have chosen; +He is well fitted for the business. Therefore +I gave it him. + +ILLO. + + Because he's an Italian-- +Therefore is he well fitted for the business! + +WALLENST. + +I know you love them not--nor sire nor son-- +Because that I esteem them, love them--visibly +Esteem them, love them more than you and others. +E'en as they merit. Therefore are they eye-blights, +Thorns in your foot-path. But your jealousies, +In what affect they me or my concerns? +Are they the worse to _me_ because you hate them? +Love or hate one another as you will, +I leave to each man his own moods and likings; +Yet know the worth of each of you to me. + +ILLO. + +Von Questenberg, while he was here, was always +Lurking about with this Octavio. + +WALLENST. + +It happen'd with my knowledge and permission. + +ILLO. + +I know that secret messengers came to him +From Gallas-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + That's not true. + +ILLO. + + O thou art blind, +With thy deep-seeing eyes! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Thou wilt not shake +My faith for me--my faith, which founds itself +On the profoundest science. If 'tis false, +Then the whole science of the stars is false; +For know, I have a pledge from Fate itself, +That he is the most faithful of my friends. + +ILLO. + +Hast thou a pledge, that this pledge is not false? + +WALLENST. + +There exist moments in the life of man, +When he is nearer the great Soul of the world +Than is man's custom, and possesses freely +The power of questioning his destiny: +And such a moment 'twas, when in the night +Before the action in the plains of Luetzen, +Leaning against a tree, thoughts crowding thoughts, +I look'd out far upon the ominous plain. +My whole life, past and future, in this moment +Before my mind's eye glided in procession, +And to the destiny of the next morning +The spirit, fill'd with anxious presentiment, +Did knit the most removed futurity. +Then said I also to myself: "So many +Dost thou command. They follow all thy stars +And as on some great number set their All +Upon thy single head, and only man +The vessel of thy fortune. Yet a day +Will come when Destiny shall once more scatter +All these in many a several direction: +Few be they who will stand out faithful to thee." +I yearn'd to know which one was faithfullest +Of all, this camp included. Great Destiny, +Give me a sign! And he shall be the man, +Who, on the approaching morning, comes the first +To meet me with a token of his love. +And thinking this, I fell into a slumber. +Then midmost in the battle was I led +In spirit. Great the pressure and the tumult! +Then was my horse kil'd under me; I sank; +And over me away, all unconcernedly, +Drove horse and rider--and thus trod to pieces +I lay, and panted like a dying man; +Then seized me suddenly a savior arm; +It was Octavio's--I awoke at once; +'Twas broad day, and _Octavio_ stood before me. +"My brother," said he, "do not ride today +The dapple, as you're wont; but mount the horse +Which I have chosen for thee. Do it, brother! +In love to me. A strong dream warn'd me so." +It was the swiftness of his horse that snatch'd me +From the hot pursuit of Bannier's dragoons. +My cousin rode the dapple on that day, +And never more saw I of horse or rider. + +ILLO. + +That was a chance. + +WALLENSTEIN (_significantly_). + + There's no such thing as chance. +[And what to us seems merest accident +Springs from the deepest source of destiny.] +In brief, 'tis sign'd and seal'd that this Octavio +Is my good angel--and now no word more. + + [_He is retiring_.] + +TERZKY. + +This is my comfort--Max remains our hostage. + +ILLO. + +And he shall never stir from here alive. + +WALLENSTEIN (_stops and turns himself round_). + +Are ye not like the women who forever +Only recur to their first word, although +One had been talking reason by the hour! +Know that the human being's thoughts and needs +Are not like ocean billows, blindly moved. +The inner world, his microcosmus, is +The deep shaft out of which they spring eternally. +They grow by certain laws, like the tree's fruit-- +No juggling chance can metamorphose them. +Have I the human _kernel_ first examined? +Then I know, too, the future will and action. + + [_Exeunt_.] + + +SCENE IV + + +_Chamber in the residence of Piccolomini_ + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI (_attired for traveling_), AN ADJUTANT + +OCTAVIO. + +Is the detachment here? + +ADJUT. + + It awaits below. + +OCTAVIO. + +And are the soldiers trusty, Adjutant? +Say, from what regiment hast thou chosen them? + +ADJUT. From Tiefenbach's. + +OCTAVIO. + + That regiment is loyal; +Keep them in silence in the inner court, +Unseen by all, and when the signal peals +Then close the doors; keep watch upon the house, +And all ye meet be instantly arrested. + + [_Exit Adjutant_.] + +I hope indeed I shall not need their service, +So certain feel I of my well laid plans; +But when an empire's safety is at stake +'Twere better too much caution than too little. + + +SCENE V + +_A Chamber in PICCOLOMINI's Dwelling-House_. + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, ISOLANI, _entering_ + +ISOLANI. + +Here am I--Well! who comes yet of the others? + +OCTAVIO (_with an air of mystery_). + +But, first, a word with you, Count Isolani. + +ISOLANI (_assuming the same air of mystery_). + +Will it explode, ha?--Is the Duke about +To make the attempt? In me, friend, you may place +Full confidence--Nay, put me to the proof. + +OCTAVIO. + +That may happen. + +ISOLANI. + + Noble brother, I am +Not one of those men who in words are valiant, +And when it comes to action skulk away. +The Duke has acted toward me as a friend. +God knows it is so; and I owe him all-- +He may rely on my fidelity. + +OCTAVIO. + +That will be seen hereafter. + +ISOLANI. + + Be on your guard, +All think not as I think; and there are many +Who still hold with the Court--yes, and they say +That those stolen signatures bind them to nothing. + +[OCTAVIO. + +Indeed! Pray name to me the chiefs that think so. + +ISOLANI. + +Plague upon them! all the Germans think so; +Esterhazy, Kaunitz, Deodati, too, +Insist upon obedience to the Court.] + +OCTAVIO. + + I am rejoiced to hear it. + +ISOLANI. + +You rejoice + +OCTAVIO. + +That the Emperor has yet such gallant servants, +And loving friends! + +ISOLANI. + + Nay, jeer not, I entreat you. +They are no such worthless fellows, I assure you. + +OCTAVIO. + +I am assured already. God forbid +That I should jest!--In very serious earnest, +I am rejoiced to see an honest cause +So strong. + +ISOLANI. + + The Devil!--what!--Why, what means this? +Are you not, then--For what, then, am I here? + +OCTAVIO. + +That you may make full declaration, whether +You will be call'd the friend or enemy +Of the Emperor. + +ISOLANI (_with an air of defiance_). + + That declaration, friend, +I'll make to him in whom a right is placed +To put that question to me. + +OCTAVIO. + + Whether, Count, +That right is mine, this paper may, instruct you. + +ISOLANI (_stammering_). + +Why,--why--what! this is the Emperor's hand and seal! [_Reads_.] +"Whereas, the officers collectively +Throughout our army will obey the orders +Of the Lieutenant-General Piccolomini. +As from ourselves."--_Hem_--Yes! so I-- +Yes! yes!-- +I--I give you joy, Lieutenant-General! + +OCTAVIO. + +And you submit you to the order? + +ISOLANI. + + I-- +But you have taken me so by surprise-- +Time for reflection one _must_ have-- + +OCTAVIO. + + Two minutes. + +ISOLANI. + +My God! But then the case is-- + +OCTAVIO. + + Plain and simple +You must declare you, whether you determine +To act a treason 'gainst your Lord and Sovereign, +Or whether you will serve him faithfully. + +ISOLANI. + +Treason!--My God!--But who talks then of +treason? + +OCTAVIO. + +That is the case. The Prince-duke is a traitor-- +Means to lead over to the enemy +The Emperor's army.--Now, Count!--brief +and full-- +Say, will you break your oath to the Emperor? +Sell yourself to the enemy?--Say, will you? + +ISOLANI. + +What mean you? I--I break my oath, d'ye say, +To his Imperial Majesty? +Did I say so!--When, when have I said that? + +OCTAVIO. + +You have not said it yet--not yet. This instant +I wait to hear, Count, whether you _will_ say it. + +ISOLANI. + +Ay! that delights me now, that you yourself +Bear witness for me that I never said so. + +OCTAVIO. + +And you renounce the Duke then? + +ISOLANI. + + If he's planning +Treason--why, treason breaks all bonds +asunder. + +OCTAVIO. + +And are determined, too, to fight against him? + +ISOLANI. + +He has done me service--but if he's a villain, +Perdition seize him!--All scores are rubb'd off. + +OCTAVIO. + +I am rejoiced that you are so well disposed. +This night, break off in the utmost secrecy +With all the light-arm'd troops--it must appear +As came the order from the Duke himself. +At Frauenburg's the place of rendezvous; +There will Count Gallas give you further orders. + +ISOLANI. + +It shall be done.-But you'll remember me +With the Emperor--how well-disposed you +found me. + +OCTAVIO. + +I will not fail to mention it honorably. + +[_Exit_ ISOLANI. _A Servant enters_.] + +What, Colonel Butler!--Show him up. + +ISOLANI (_returning_). + +Forgive me too my bearish ways, old father! +Lord God! how should I know, then, what a great +Person I had before me. + +OCTAVIO. + No excuses! + +ISOLANI. + +I am a merry lad, and if at time +A rash word might escape me 'gainst the Court +Amidst my wine--You know no harm was +meant. + + [_Exit_.] + +OCTAVIO. + +You need not be uneasy on that score +That has succeeded. Fortune favor us +With all the others only but as much! + + +SCENE VI + +OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, BUTLER + +BUTLER. + +At your command, Lieutenant-General. + +OCTAVIO. + +Welcome, as honor'd friend and visitor. + +BUTLER. + +You do me too much honor. + +OCTAVIO (_after both have seated themselves_). + + You have not +Return'd the advances which I made you yesterday-- +Misunderstood them as mere empty forms. +That wish proceeded from my heart--I was +In earnest with you--for 'tis now a time +In which the honest should unite most closely. + +BUTLER. + +'Tis only the like-minded can unite. + +OCTAVIO. + +True! and I name all honest men like-minded. +I never charge a man but with those acts +To which his character deliberately +Impels him; for alas! the violence +Of blind misunderstandings often thrusts +The very best of us from the right track. +You came through Frauenburg. Did the Count Gallas +Say nothing to you? Tell me. He's my friend. + +BUTLER. + +His words were lost on _me_. + +OCTAVIO. + + It grieves me sorely, +To hear it: for his counsel was most wise. +I had myself the like to offer. + +BUTLER. + + Spare +Yourself the trouble--me th' embarrassment, +To have deserved so ill your good opinion. + +OCTAVIO. + +The time is precious--let us talk openly. +You know how matters stand here. Wallenstein +Meditates treason--I can tell you further, +He has committed treason; but few hours +Have past since he a covenant concluded +With the enemy. The messengers are now +Full on their way to Egra and to Prague. +Tomorrow he intends to lead us over +To the enemy. But he deceives himself; +For Prudence wakes--The Emperor has still +Many and faithful friends here, and they stand +In closest union, mighty though unseen. +This manifesto sentences the Duke-- +Recalls the obedience of the army from him, +And summons all the loyal, all the honest, +To join and recognize in me their leader. +Choose--will you share with us an honest cause? +Or with the evil share an evil lot? + +BUTLER (_rises_). + +His lot is mine. + +OCTAVIO. + + Is that your last resolve? + +BUTLER. + +It is. + +OCTAVIO. + + Nay, but bethink you, Colonel Butler! +As yet you have time. Within my faithful breast +That rashly utter'd word remains interr'd. +Recall it, Butler! choose a better party; +You have not chosen the right one. + +BUTLER (_going_). + + Any other +Commands for me, Lieutenant-General? + +OCTAVIO. + +See your white hairs: recall that word! + +BUTLER. + +Farewell! + +OCTAVIO. + +What! Would you draw this good and gallant sword +In such a cause? Into a curse would you +Transform the gratitude which you have earn'd +By forty years' fidelity from Austria? + +BUTLER (_laughing with bitterness_). + +Gratitude from the House of Austria! + + [He is going.] + +OCTAVIO (_permits him to go as far as the door, then calls after him_). + +Butler! + +BUTLER. + + What wish you? + +OCTAVIO. + + How was't with the Count? + +BUTLER. + +Count? what? + +OCTAVIO (_coldly_). + + The title that you wish'd, I mean. + +BUTLER (_starts in sudden passion_). + +Hell and damnation! + +OCTAVIO (_coldly_). + + You petition'd for it-- +And your petition was repelled--Was it so? + +BUTLER. + +Your insolent scoff shall not go by unpunish'd. +Draw! + +OCTAVIO. + +Nay! your sword to 'ts sheath! and tell me calmly, +How all that happen'd. I will not refuse you +Your satisfaction afterward. Calmly, Butler! + +BUTLER. + +Be the whole world acquainted with the weakness +For which I never can forgive myself. +Lieutenant-General! Yes; I have ambition. +Ne'er was I able to endure contempt. +It stung me to the quick, that birth and title +Should have more weight than merit has in the army. +I would fain not be meaner than my equal, +So in an evil hour I let myself +Be tempted to that measure. It was folly! +But yet so hard a penance it deserved not. +It might have been refused; but wherefore barb +And venom the refusal with contempt? +Why dash to earth and crush with heaviest scorn +The gray-hair'd man, the faithful veteran? +Why to the baseness of his parentage +Refer him with such cruel roughness, only +Because he had a weak hour and forgot himself? +But nature gives a sting e'en to the worm +Which wanton Power treads on in sport and +insult. + +OCTAVIO. + +You must have been calumniated. Guess you +The enemy who did you this ill service? + +BUTLER. + +Be't who it will--a most low-hearted scoundrel! +Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard, +Some young squire of some ancient family, +In whose light I may stand; some envious knave, +Stung to his soul by my fair self-earn'd honors! + +OCTAVIO. + +But tell me, did the Duke approve that measure? + +BUTLER. + +Himself impell'd me to it, used his interest +In my behalf with all the warmth of friendship. + +OCTAVIO. + +Ay? are you sure of that? + +BUTLER. + + I read the letter. + +OCTAVIO. + +And so did I--but the contents were different. +[BUTLER _is suddenly struck_.] + +By chance I'm in possession of that letter-- +Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you. + + [_He gives him the letter_.] + +BUTLER. + +Ha! what is this? + +OCTAVIO. + + I fear me, Colonel Butler, +An infamous game have they been playing with you. +The Duke, you say, impell'd you to this measure? +Now, in this letter, talks he in contempt +Concerning you; counsels the minister +To give sound chastisement to your conceit, +For so he calls it. + +[BUTLER _reads through the letter; his knees tremble, he +seizes a chair, and sinks down in it_.] + +You have no enemy, no persecutor; +There's no one wishes ill to you. Ascribe +The insult you received to the Duke only. +His aim is clear and palpable. He wish'd +To tear you from your Emperor: he hoped +To gain from your revenge what he well knew +(What your long-tried fidelity convinced him) +He ne'er could dare expect from your calm reason. +A blind tool would he make you, in contempt +Use you, as means of most abandoned ends. +He has gained his point. Too well has he succeeded +In luring you away from that good path +On which you had been journeying forty years! + +BUTLER _(his voice trembling)_. + +Can e'er the Emperor's Majesty forgive me? + +OCTAVIO. + +More than forgive you. He would fain compensate +For that affront, and most unmerited grievance +Sustain'd by a deserving gallant veteran. +From his free impulse he confirms the present, +Which the Duke made you for a wicked purpose. +The regiment, which you now command, is yours. + +[BUTLER attempts to rise, sinks down again. He labors +inwardly with violent emotions; tries to speak, and cannot. +At length he takes his sword from the belt, and offers it to +PICCOLOMINI.] + +OCTAVIO. + +What wish you? Recollect yourself, friend. + +BUTLER. + + Take it. + +OCTAVIO. + +But to what purpose? Calm yourself. + +BUTLER. + + O take it! +I am no longer worthy of this sword. + +OCTAVIO. + +Receive it then anew, from my hands--and +Wear it with honor for the right cause ever. + +BUTLER. + +Perjure myself to such a gracious Sovereign! + +OCTAVIO. + +You'll make amends. Quick! break off from the Duke! + +BUTLER. + +Break off from him! + +OCTAVIO. + + What now? Bethink thyself. + +BUTLER (_no longer governing his emotion_). + +Only break off from him? He dies! he dies! + +OCTAVIO. + +Come after me to Frauenburg, where now +All who are loyal are assembling under +Counts Altringer and Gallas. Many others +I've brought to a remembrance of their duty: +This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen. + +BUTLER (_strides up and down in excessive agitation, then +steps up to_ OCTAVIO _with resolved countenance_). + +Count Piccolomini! dare that man speak +Of honor to you, who once broke his troth. + +OCTAVIO. + +He, who repents so deeply of it, dares. + +BUTLER. + +Then leave me here upon my word of honor! + +OCTAVIO. + +What's your design? + +BUTLER. + + Leave me and my regiment. + +OCTAVIO. + +I have full confidence in you. But tell me +What are you brooding? + +BUTLER. + +That the deed will tell you. +Ask me no more at present. Trust to me. +Ye may trust safely. By the living God +Ye give him over, not to his good angel! +Farewell. + + [_Exit_ BUTLER.] + +SERVANT (_enters with a billet_). + + A stranger left it, and is gone. +The Prince Duke's horses wait for you below. + + [_Exit_ SERVANT.] + +OCTAVIO (_reads_). + +"Be sure make haste! Your faithful Isolan." +--O that I had but left this town behind me. +To split upon a rock so near the haven!--Away! +This is no longer a safe place +For me! Where can my son be tarrying! + + +SCENE VII + +OCTAVIO and MAX PICCOLOWINI + +[MAX _enters almost in a state of derangement, from extreme +agitation; his eyes roll wildly, his walk is_ _unsteady, +and he appears not to observe his father, who stands at a +distance, and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of +compassion. He paces with long strides through the chamber, +then stands still again, and at last throws himself into a +chair, staring vacantly at the object directly before him_.] + + +OCTAVIO (_advances to him_). + + I am going off, my son. + + [_Receiving no answer, he takes his hand_.] + + My son, farewell. + +MAX. + +Farewell. + +OCTAVIO. + + Thou wilt soon follow me? + +MAX. + + I follow thee? +Thy way is crooked--it is not my way. + +[OCTAVIO _drops his hand, and starts back_.] + +O, hadst thou been but simple and sincere, +Ne'er had it come to this--all had stood otherwise. +He had not done that foul and horrible deed, +The virtuous had retain'd their influence o'er him: +He had not fallen into the snares of villains. +Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice +Didst creep behind him, lurking for thy prey! +O, unblest falsehood! Mother of all evil! +Thou misery-making demon, it is thou +That sink'st us in perdition. Simple truth, +Sustainer of the world, have saved us all! +Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee! +Wallenstein has deceived me--O, most foully! +But thou hast acted not much better. + +OCTAVIO. + + Son! +My son, ah! I forgive thy agony! + +MAX. (_rises and contemplates his father with looks of +suspicion_). + +Was't possible? hadst thou the heart, my father, +Hadst thou the heart to drive it to such lengths, +With cold premeditated purpose? Thou-- +Hadst thou the heart to wish to see him guilty +Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall. +Octavio, 'twill not please me. + +OCTAVIO. + + God in heaven! + +MAX. + +O, woe is me! sure I have changed my nature. +How comes suspicion here--in the free soul? +Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all +Lied to me, all that I e'er loved or honored. +No, no! not all! She--she yet lives for me, +And she is true, and open as the heavens! +Deceit is everywhere, hypocrisy, +Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury: +The single holy spot is our love, +The only unprofaned in human nature. + +OCTAVIO. + +Max!--we will go together. 'Twill be better. + +MAX. + +What? ere I've taken a last parting leave, +The very last--no, never! + +OCTAVIO. + + Spare thyself +The pang of necessary separation. +Come with me! Come, my son! + +[_Attempts to take him with him._] + +MAX. + +No! as sure as God lives, no! + +OCTAVIO (_more urgently_). + +Come with me, I command thee! I, thy father. + +MAX. + +Command me what is human. I stay here. + +OCTAVIO. + +Max! in the Emperor's name I bid thee come. + +MAX. + +No Emperor has power to prescribe +Laws to the heart; and wouldst thou wish to rob me +Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me, +Her sympathy? Must then a cruel deed +Be done with cruelty? The unalterable +Shall I perform ignobly--steal away, +With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No! +She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish, +Hear the complaints of the disparted soul, +And weep tears o'er me. Oh! the human race +Have steely souls--but she is as an angel. +From the black deadly madness of despair +Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words +Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death! + +OCTAVIO. + +Thou wilt not tear thyself away; thou canst not. +O, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue. + +MAX. + +Squander not thou thy words in vain. +The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it. + +OCTAVIO (_trembling, and losing all self command_). + +Max! Max! if that most damned thing could be, +If thou--my son--my own blood--dare I _think_ it? +Do sell thyself to him, the infamous, +Do stamp this brand upon our noble house, +Then shall the world behold the horrible deed +And in unnatural combat shall the steel +Of the son trickle with the father's blood. + +MAX. + +O hadst thou always better thought of men +Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion, +Unholy, miserable doubt! To him +Nothing on earth remains unwrench'd and firm, +Who has no faith. + +OCTAVIO. + + And if I trust thy heart, +Will it be always in thy power to follow it? + +MAX. + +The heart's voice _thou_ hast not o'erpowered--as little +Will Wallenstein be able to o'erpower it. + +OCTAVIO. + +O, Max! I see thee never more again! + +MAX. + +Unworthy of thee wilt thou never see me. + +OCTAVIO. + +I go to Frauenburg--the Pappenheimers +I leave thee here, the Lothrings too; Tsokans +And Tiefenbach remain here to protect thee. +They love thee, and are faithful to their oath, +And will far rather fall in gallant contest +Than leave their rightful leader, and their honor. + +MAX. + +Rely on this, I either leave my life +In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen. + +OCTAVIO. + +Farewell, my son! + +MAX. + + Farewell! + +OCTAVIO. + + How! not one look +Of filial love? No grasp of the hand at parting? +It is a bloody war to which we are going, +And the event uncertain and in darkness. +So used we not to part--it was not so! +Is it then true? I have a son no longer? + + +[MAX _falls into his arms, they hold each other for a long +time in a speechless embrace, then go away at different +sides_.] + +[_The Curtain drops_.] + + * * * * * + + + +ACT III + + +SCENE I + +_A Chamber in the House of the Duchess of Friedland_ + +COUNTESS TERZKY, THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN (_the two latter sit +at the same table at work_) + + +COUNTESS (_watching them from the opposite side_). + +So you have nothing to ask me--nothing? +I have been waiting for a word from you. +And could you then endure in all this time +Not once to speak his name? + +[THEKLA _remaining silent, the_ COUNTESS _rises and advances +to her_.] + + Why, how comes this! +Perhaps I am already grown superfluous, +And other ways exist, besides through me? +Confess it to me, Thekla: have you seen him? + +THEKLA. + +Today and yesterday I have not seen him. + +COUNTESS. + +And not heard from him, either? Come, be open. + +THEKLA. + +No syllable. + +COUNTESS. + + And still you are so calm? + +THEKLA. + +I am. + +COUNTESS. + +May 't please you, leave us, Lady Neubrunn. + [_Exit_ LADY NEUBRUNN.] + + +SCENE II + +_The_ COUNTESS, THEKLA + +COUNTESS. + +It does not please me, Princess, that he holds +Himself so _still_, exactly at _this_ time. + +THEKLA. + +Exactly at _this_ time? + +COUNTESS. + + He now knows all: +'Twere now the moment to declare himself. + +THEKLA. + +If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly. + +COUNTESS. + +'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us. +Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart +Is now no more in nonage: for you love, +And boldness dwells with love--that _you_ have proved +Your nature molds itself upon your father's +More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you +Hear, what were too much for her fortitude. + +THEKLA. + +Enough: no further preface, I entreat you. +At once, out with it! Be it what it may, +It is not possible that it should torture me +More than this introduction. What have you +To say to me? Tell me the whole, and briefly! + +COUNTESS. + +You'll not be frighten'd-- + +THEKLA. + + Name it, I entreat you. + +COUNTESS. + +It lies within your power to do your father +A weighty service-- + +THEKLA. + + Lies within _my_ power? + +COUNTESS. + +Max Piccolomini loves you. You can link him +Indissolubly to your father. + +THEKLA. + + I? +What need of me for that? And is he not +Already link'd to him? + +COUNTESS. + + He was. + +THEKLA. + + And wherefore +Should he not be so now--not be so always? + +COUNTESS. + +He cleaves to the Emperor too. + +THEKLA. + + Not more than duty +And honor may demand of him. + +COUNTESS. + + We ask +Proofs of his love, and not proofs of his honor. +Duty and honor! +Those are ambiguous words with many meanings. +_You_ should interpret them for him: his love +Should be the sole definer of his honor. + +THEKLA. + +How? + +COUNTESS. + +The Emperor or you must he renounce. + +THEKLA. + +He will accompany my father gladly +In his retirement. From himself you heard, +How much he wish'd to lay aside the sword. + +COUNTESS. + +He must _not_ lay the sword aside, we mean; +He must unsheath it in your father's cause. + +THEKLA. + +He'll spend with gladness and alacrity +His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause, +If shame or injury be intended him. + +COUNTESS. + +You will not understand me. Well, hear then:-- +Your father has fallen off from the Emperor, +And is about to join the enemy +With the whole soldiery-- + +THEKLA. + +Alas, my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +There needs a great example to draw on +The army after him. The Piccolomini +Possess the love and reverence of the troops; +They govern all opinions, and wherever +They lead the way none hesitate to follow. +The son secures the father to our interests-- +You've much in your hands at this moment. + +THEKLA. + +Ah! +My miserable mother! what a death-stroke +Awaits thee!--No! she never will survive it. + +COUNTESS. + +She will accommodate her soul to that +Which is and must be. I do know your mother; +The far-off future weighs upon her heart +With torture of anxiety; but is it +Unalterably, actually present, +She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly. + +THEKLA. + +O my foreboding bosom! Even now, +E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror! +And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp; +I knew it well--no sooner had I enter'd, +An heavy ominous presentiment +Reveal'd to me that spirits of death were hovering +Over my happy fortune. But why think I +First of myself? My mother! O my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +Calm yourself! Break not out in vain lamenting! +Preserve you for your father the firm friend, +And for yourself the lover, all will yet +Prove good and fortunate. + +THEKLA. + + Prove good! What good? +Must we not part?--part ne'er to meet again? + +COUNTESS. + +He parts not from you! He cannot part from you. + +THEKLA. + +Alas for his sore anguish! It will rend +His heart asunder. + +COUNTESS. + + If indeed he loves you, +His resolution will be speedily taken. + +THEKLA. + +His resolution will be speedily taken-- +O do not doubt of that! A resolution! +Does there remain one to be taken? + +COUNTESS. + + Hush, +Collect yourself! I hear your mother coming. + +THEKLA. + +How shall I bear to see her? + +COUNTESS. + + Collect yourself. + + +SCENE III + +_To them enter the DUCHESS_ + + +DUCHESS (_to the COUNTESS_). + +Who was here, sister? I heard someone talking, +And passionately too. + +COUNTESS. + + Nay! there was no one. + +DUCHESS. + +I am grown so timorous, every trifling noise +Scatters my spirits, and announces to me +The footstep of some messenger of evil. +And you can tell me, sister, what the event is? +Will he agree to do the Emperor's pleasure, +And send the horse-regiments to the Cardinal? +Tell me, has he dismiss'd Von Questenberg +With a favorable answer? + +COUNTESS. + + No, he has not. + +DUCHESS. + +Alas! then all is lost! I see it coming, +The worst that can come! Yes, they will depose him; +The accursed business of the Regensburg diet +Will all be acted o'er again! + +COUNTESS. + + No! never! +Make your heart easy, sister, as to that. + +[THEKLA, _in extreme agitation, throws herself upon her +mother, and enfolds her in her arms, weeping_.] + + +DUCHESS. + +Yes, my poor child! +Thou too hast lost a most affectionate godmother +In the Empress. O that stern unbending man! +In this unhappy marriage what have I +Not suffer'd, not endured? For even as if +I had been link'd on to some wheel of fire +That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onward, +I have pass'd a life of frights and horrors with him, +And ever to the brink of some abyss +With dizzy headlong violence he bears me. +Nay, do not weep, my child. Let not my sufferings +Presignify unhappiness to thee, +Nor blacken with their shade the fate that waits thee. +There lives no second Friedland: thou, my child, +Hast not to fear thy mother's destiny. + +THEKLA. + +O let us supplicate him, dearest mother! +Quick! quick! here's no abiding place for us. +Here every coming hour broods into life +Some new affrightful monster. + +DUCHESS. + + Thou wilt share +An easier, calmer lot, my child! We too, +I and thy father, witnessed happy days. +Still think I with delight of those first years, +When he was making progress with glad effort, +When his ambition was a genial fire, +Not that consuming flame which now it is. +The Emperor loved him, trusted him: and all +He undertook could not but be successful. +But since that ill-starr'd day at Regensburg, +Which plunged him headlong from his dignity, +A gloomy uncompanionable spirit, +Unsteady and suspicious, has possess'd him. +His quiet mind forsook him, and no longer +Did he yield up himself in joy and faith +To his old luck and individual power; +But thenceforth turn'd his heart and best affections +All to those cloudy sciences, which never +Have yet made happy him who follow'd them. + +COUNTESS. + +You see it, sister, as your eyes permit you, +But surely this is not the conversation +To pass the time in which we are waiting for him. +You know he will be soon here. Would you have him +Find _her_ in this condition? + +DUCHESS. + + Come, my child! +Come wipe away thy tears, and show thy father +A cheerful countenance. See, the tie-knot here +Is off--this hair must not hang so dishevell'd. +Come, dearest! dry thy tears up. They deform +Thy gentle eye.--Well now--what was I saying? +Yes, in good truth, this Piccolomini +Is a most noble and deserving gentleman. + +COUNTESS. + +That is he, sister! + +THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS, _with marks of great oppression +of spirits_). + + Aunt, you will excuse me? + + [_Is going_.] + +COUNTESS. + +But whither? See, your father comes. + +THEKLA. + +I cannot see him now. + +COUNTESS. + + Nay, but bethink you. + +THEKLA. + +Believe me, I cannot sustain his presence. + +COUNTESS. + +But he will miss you, will ask after you. + +DUCHESS. + +What now? Why is she going? + +COUNTESS. + + She's not well. + +DUCHESS (_anxiously_). + +What ails then my beloved child? + + +[_Both follow the_ PRINCESS, _and endeavor to detain her. +During this_ WALLENSTEIN _appears, engaged in conversation +with_ ILLO.] + + +SCENE IV + +WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA + + +WALLENST. + +All quiet in the camp? + +ILLO. + + It is all quiet. + +WALLENST. + +In a few hours may couriers come from Prague +With tidings that this capital is ours. +Then we may drop the mask, and to the troops +Assembled in this town make known the measure +And its result together. In such cases +Example does the whole. Whoever is foremost +Still leads the herd. An imitative creature +Is man. The troops at Prague conceive no other +Than that the Pilsen army has gone through +The forms of homage to us; and in Pilsen +They shall swear fealty to us, because +The example has been given them by Prague. +Butler, you tell me, has declared himself? + +ILLO. + +At his own bidding, unsolicited, +He came to offer you himself and regiment. + +WALLENST. + +I find we must not give implicit credence +To every warning voice that makes itself +Be listen'd to in the heart. To hold us back, +Oft does the lying Spirit counterfeit +The voice of Truth and inward Revelation, +Scattering false oracles. And thus have I +To entreat forgiveness, for that secretly +I've wrong'd this honorable, gallant man, +This Butler: for a feeling, of the which +I am not master (_fear_ I would not call it), +Creeps o'er me instantly, with sense of shuddering +At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion. +And this same man, against whom I am warn'd, +This honest man is he, who reaches to me +The first pledge of my fortune. + +ILLO. + + And doubt not +That his example will win over to you +The best men in the army. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Go and send +Isolani hither. Send him immediately; +He is under recent obligations to me: +With him will I commence the trial. Go. + + [_Exit_ ILLO.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_turns himself round to the females_). + +Lo, there the mother with the darling daughter +For once we'll have an interval of rest--Come! +my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour +In the beloved circle of my family. + +COUNTESS. + +'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS _aside_). + +Can she sustain the news? Is she prepared? + +COUNTESS. + +Not yet. + +WALLENST. + + Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me. +For there is a good spirit on thy lips. +Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill; +She says a voice of melody dwells in thee, +Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice +Will drive away from me the evil demon +That beats his black wings close above my head. + +DUCHESS. + +Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father +Hear some small trial of thy skill. + +THEKLA. + + My mother! +I-- + +DUCHESS. + +Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer +father. + +THEKLA. + +O my mother! I--I cannot. + +COUNTESS. + +How, what is that, niece? + +THEKLA (_to the_ COUNTESS). + +O spare me--sing--now--in this sore anxiety, +Of the o'erburthen'd soul--to sing to _him_, +Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong +Into her grave. + +DUCHESS. + +How, Thekla! Humorsome! +What! shall thy father have express'd a wish +In vain? + +COUNTESS. + +Here is the lute. + +THEKLA. + +My God! how can I-- + +[_The orchestra plays. During the ritornello_ THEKLA +_expresses in her gestures and countenance the struggle of +her feelings; and at the moment that she should begin to +sing, contracts herself together, as one shuddering, throws +the instrument down, and retires abruptly_.] + +DUCHESS. My child! O she is ill-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What ails the maiden? +Say, is she often so? + +COUNTESS. + + Since then herself +Has now betray'd it, I too must no longer +Conceal it. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +What? + +COUNTESS. + + She loves him! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Loves him! Whom? + +COUNTESS. + +Max does she love! Max Piccolomini. +Hast thou ne'er noticed it? Nor yet my sister? + +DUCHESS. + +Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart? +God's blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou need'st +Never take shame upon thee for thy choice. + +COUNTESS. + +This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it +To thine own self. Thou shouldst have chosen another +To have attended her. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + And does he know it? + +COUNTESS. + +Yes, and he hopes to win her! + +WALLENSTEIN. Hopes to win her! +Is the boy mad? + +COUNTESS. + + Well--hear it from themselves. + +WALLENST. + +He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland's daughter! +Ay?--The thought pleases me. +The young man has no groveling spirit. + +COUNTESS. + + Since +Such and such constant favor you have shown him-- + +WALLENST. + +He chooses finally to be my heir. +And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honor him. +But must he therefore be my daughter's husband? +Is it daughters only? Is it only children +That we must show our favor by? + +DUCHESS. + +His noble disposition and his manners-- + +WALLENST. + +Win him my heart, but not my daughter. + +DUCHESS. + + Then +His rank, his ancestors-- + +WALLENSTETN. + + Ancestors! What? +He is a subject, and my son-in-law +I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe. + +DUCHESS. + +O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high +Lest we should fall too low. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What! have I paid +A price so heavy to ascend this eminence, +And jut out high above the common herd, +Only to close the mighty part I play +In Life's great drama, with a common kinsman? +Have I for this-- + +[_Stops suddenly, repressing himself_.] + + She is the only thing +That will remain behind of me on earth; +And I will see a crown around her head, +Or die in the attempt to place it there. +I hazard all--all! and for this alone, +To lift her into greatness--Yea, +in this moment, in the which we are +speaking-- + +[_He recollects himself_.] + +And I must now, like a soft-hearted father, +Couple together in good peasant-fashion +The pair, that chance to suit each other's liking-- +And I must do it now, even now, when I +Am stretching out the wreath that is to twine +My full accomplish'd work--no! she is the jewel, +Which I have treasured long, my last, my noblest, +And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me +For less than a king's sceptre. + +DUCHESS. + + O my husband! +You're ever building, building to the clouds, +Still building higher, and still higher building, +And ne'er reflect that the poor narrow basis +Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS). + +Have you announced the place of residence +Which I have destined for her? + +COUNTESS. + + No! not yet. +'Twere better you yourself disclosed it to her. + +DUCHESS. + +How? Do we not return to Carinthia then? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + No. + +DUCHESS. + +And to no other of your lands or seats? + +WALLENST. + +You would not be secure there. + +DUCHESS. + + Not secure +In the Emperor's realms, beneath the Emperor's +Protection? + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Friedland's wife may be permitted +No longer to hope _that_. + +DUCHESS. + + O God in heaven! +And have you brought it even to this! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + In Holland +You'll find protection. + +DUCHESS. + +In a Lutheran country? +What? And you send us into Lutheran countries? + +WALLENST. + + Duke Franz of Lauenburg conducts you thither. + +DUCHESS. + +Duke Franz of Lauenburg? +The ally of Sweden, the Emperor's enemy. + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor's enemies are mine no longer. + +DUCHESS (_casting a look of terror on the_ DUKE _and the_ +COUNTESS). + +Is it then true? It is. You are degraded-- +Deposed from the command! O God in heaven! + +COUNTESS (_aside to the_ DUKE). + +Leave her in this belief. Thou seest she cannot +Support the real truth. + + +SCENE V + + +_To them enter_ COUNT TERZKY. + +COUNTESS. + + --Terzky! +What ails him? What an image of affright! +He looks as he had seen a ghost. + +TERZKY (_leading_ WALLENSTEIN _aside_). + +Is it thy command that all the Croats-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Mine. + +TERZKY. + +We are betray'd. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What? + +TERZKY. + + They are off! This night +The Jaegers likewise--all the villages +In the whole round are empty. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Isolani! + +TERZKY. + +Him thou hast sent away. Yes, surely. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I? + +TERZKY. + +No! Hast thou not sent him off? Nor Deodati? +They are vanish'd both of them. + + +SCENE VI + +_To them enter_ ILLO. + +ILLO. + +Has Terzky told thee? + +TERZKY. + + He knows all. + +ILLO. + + And likewise +That Esterhatzy, Goetz, Maradas, Kaunitz, +Kolalto, Palfi, have forsaken thee. + +TERZKY. + +Damnation! + +WALLENSTEIN (_winks at them_). + + Hush! + +COUNTESS (_who has been watching them anxiously from the +distance and now advances to them_). + +Terzky! Heaven! What is it? What has happen'd? + +WALLENSTEIN (_scarcely suppressing his emotions_). + +Nothing! let us be gone! + +TERZKY (_following him_). + + Theresa, it is nothing. + +COUNTESS (_holding him back_). + +Nothing? Do I not see that all the life-blood +Has left your cheeks--look you not like a ghost? +That even my brother but affects a calmness? + +PAGE (_enters_). + +An Aide-de-camp inquires for the Count Terzky. + + [TERZKY _follows the_ PAGE.] + +WALLENST. Go, hear his business. + + [_To_ ILLO.] + + This could not have happen'd +So unsuspected without mutiny. +Who was on guard at the gates? + +ILLO. + + 'Twas Tiefenbach. + +WALLENST. + +Let Tiefenbach leave guard without delay, +And Terzky's grenadiers relieve him. + + [ILLO _is going_.] + + Stop! +Hast thou heard aught of Butler? + +ILLO. + + Him I met; + +He will be here himself immediately. +Butler remains unshaken. + + [ILLO _exit_. WALLENSTEIN _is following him_.] + +COUNTESS. + +Let him not leave thee, sister! go, detain him! +There's some misfortune. + +DUCHESS (_clinging to him_). + +Gracious Heaven! What is it? + +WALLENST. + +Be tranquil! leave me, sister! dearest wife! +We are in camp, and this is nought unusual; +Here storm and sunshine follow one another +With rapid interchanges. These fierce spirits +Champ the curb angrily, and never yet +Did quiet bless the temples of the leader. +If I am to stay, go you. The plaints of women +Ill suit the scene where men must act. + + [_He is going_. TERZHY _returns_.] + +TERZHY. + +Remain here. From this window must we see it. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS). + + Sister, retire! + +COUNTESS. + + No--never. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +'Tis my will. + +TERZKY (_leads the_ COUNTESS _aside, and drawing her +attention to the_ DUCHESS). + +Theresa? + +DUCHESS. + + Sister, come! since he commands it. + + +SCENE VII + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY + + +WALLENSTEIN (_stepping to the window_). + +What now, then? + +TERZKY. + +There are strange movements among all the troops, +And no one knows the cause. Mysteriously, +With gloomy silentness, the several corps +Marshal themselves, each under its own banners. +Tiefenbach's corps make threat'ning movements; only +The Pappenheimers still remain aloof +In their own quarters, and let no one enter. + +WALLENST. + +Does Piccolomini appear among them? + +TERZKY. + +We are seeking him: he is nowhere to be met with. + +WALLENST. + +What did the Aide-de-camp deliver to you? + +TERZKY. + +My regiments had dispatch'd him; yet once more +They swear fidelity to thee, and wait +The shout for onset, all prepared, and eager. + +WALLENST. + +But whence arose this larum in the camp? +It should have been kept secret from the army, +Till fortune had decided for us at Prague. + +TERZKY. + +O that thou hadst believed me! Yester evening +Did we conjure thee not to let that skulker, +That fox, Octavio, pass the gates of Pilsen. +Thou gavest him thy own horses to flee from thee. + +WALLENST. + +The old tune still! Now, once for all, no more +Of this suspicion--it is doting folly. + +TERZKY. + +Thou didst confide in Isolani too; +And lo! he was the first that did desert thee. + +WALLENST. + +It was but yesterday I rescued him +From abject wretchedness. Let that go by; +I never reckon'd yet on gratitude. +And wherein doth he wrong in going from me? +He follows still the god whom all his life +He has worship'd at the gaming-table. With +My fortune, and my seeming destiny, +He made the bond, and broke it not with me. +I am but the ship in which his hopes were stow'd +And with the which, well-pleased and confident, +He traversed the open sea; now he beholds it +In eminent jeopardy among the coast-rocks, +And hurries to preserve his wares. As light +As the free bird from the hospitable twig +Where it had nested, he flies off from me: +No human tie is snapp'd betwixt us two. +Yea, he deserves to find himself deceived +Who seeks a heart in the unthinking man. +Like shadows on a stream, the forms of life +Impress their characters on the smooth forehead, +Nought sinks into the bosom's silent depth; +Quick sensibility of pain and pleasure +Moves the light fluids lightly; but no soul +Warmeth the inner frame. + +TERZKY. + + Yet, would I rather +Trust the smooth brow than that deep furrow'd one. + + +SCENE VIII + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY, ILLO + + +ILLO (_who enters agitated with rage_). + +Treason and mutiny! + +TERZKY. + + And what further now? + +ILLO. + +Tiefenbach's soldiers, when I gave the orders, +To go off guard--Mutinous villains! + +TERZKY. + + Well! + +WALLENST. + +What followed? + +ILLO. + + They refused obedience to them. + +TERZKY. + +Fire on them instantly! Give out the order. + +WALLENST. + +Gently! what cause did they assign? + +ILLO. + + No other, +They said, had right to issue orders but +Lieutenant-General _Piccolomini_. + +WALLENSTEIN (_in a convulsion of agony_). + +What? How is that? + +ILLO. + +He takes that office on him by commission, +Under sign-manual of the Emperor. + +TERZKY. + +From the Emperor--hear'st thou, Duke? + +ILLO. + + At his incitement +The Generals made that stealthy flight-- + +TERZKY. + + Duke! hear'st thou? + +ILLO. + +Caraffa too, and Montecuculi, +Are missing, with six other generals, +All whom he had induced to follow him. +This plot he has long had in writing by him +From the Emperor; but 'twas finally concluded, +With all the detail of the operation, +Some days ago with the Envoy Questenberg. + +[WALLENSTEIN _sinks down into a chair and covers his face_.] + +TERZKY. + +O hadst thou but believed me! + + +SCENE IX + +_To them enter the_ COUNTESS + + +COUNTESS. + + This suspense, +This horrid fear--I can no longer bear it. +For heaven's sake tell me what has taken place? + +ILLO. + +The regiments are all falling off from us. + +TERZKY. + +Octavio Piccolomini is a traitor. + +COUNTESS. + +O my foreboding! [_Rushes out of the room_.] + +TERZKY. + + Hadst thou but believed me! +Now seest thou how the stars have lied to thee. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN HEARS OF OCTAVIO'S TREASON As +performed at the Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906.] + +WALLENST. + +The stars lie not; but we have here a work +Wrought counter to the stars and destiny. +The science is still honest: this false heart +Forces a lie on the truth-telling heaven. +On a divine law divination rests; +Where nature deviates from that law, and stumbles +Out of her limits, there all science errs. +True I did not suspect! Were it superstition +Never by such suspicion t' have affronted +The human form, O may that time ne'er come +In which I shame me of the infirmity. +The wildest savage drinks not with the victim, +Into whose breast he means to plunge the sword. +This, this, Octavio, was no hero's deed: +'Twas not thy prudence that did conquer mine; +A bad heart triumph'd o'er an honest one. +No shield received the assassin stroke; thou plungest +Thy weapon on an unprotected breast-- +Against such weapons I am but a child. + + + +SCENE X + +_To these enter_ BUTLER + + +TERZKY (_meeting him_). + +O look there! Butler! Here we've still a friend! + +WALLENSTEIN (_meets him with outspread arms, and embraces +him with warmth_). + +Come to my heart, old comrade! Not the sun +Looks out upon us more revivingly +In the earliest month of spring, +Than a friend's countenance in such an hour. + +BUTLER. + +My General: I come-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_leaning on_ BUTLER's _shoulder_). + + Know'st thou already? +That old man has betray'd me to the Emperor. +What say'st thou? Thirty years have we together +Lived out, and held out, sharing joy and hardship. +We have slept in one camp-bed, drunk from one glass, +One morsel shared! I lean'd myself on _him_, +As now I lean me on _thy_ faithful shoulder. +And now in the very moment, when, all love, +All confidence, my bosom beat to his, +He sees and takes the advantage, stabs the knife +Slowly into my heart. + + [_He hides his face on_ BUTLER'S _breast_.] + +BUTLER. + + Forget the false one. +What is your present purpose? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well remember'd! +Courage, my soul! I am still rich in friends, +Still loved by Destiny; for in the moment +That it unmasks the plotting hypocrite, +It sends and proves to me one faithful heart. +Of the hypocrite no more! Think not his loss +Was that which struck the pang: O no! his treason +Is that which strikes this pang! No more of him! +Dear to my heart and honor'd were they both, +And the young man--yes--he did truly love me, +He--he--has not deceived me. But enough, +Enough of this--swift counsel now beseems us. +The Courier, whom Count Kinsky sent from Prague, +I expect him every moment: and whatever +He may bring with him, we must take good care +To keep it from the mutineers. Quick then! +Dispatch some messenger you can rely on +To meet him and conduct him to me. + + [ILLO _is going_.] + +BUTLER (_detaining him_). + +My General, whom expect you then? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + The Courier +Who brings me word of the event at Prague. + +BUTLER (_hesitating_). + +Hem! + +WALLENST. + + And what now? + +BUTLER. + + You do not know it? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well? + +BUTLER. + +From what that larum in the camp arose? + +WALLENST. + +From what? + +BUTLER. + +That Courier-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_with eager expectation_). + + Well? + +BUTLER. + + Is already here. + +TERZKY and ILLO (_at the same time_). + +Already here? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + My Courier? + +BUTLER. + + For some hours. + +WALLENST. + +And I not know it? + +BUTLER. + + The sentinels detained him +In custody. + +ILLO (_stamping with his foot_). + Damnation! + +BUTLER. + + And his letter +Was broken open, and is circulated +Through the whole camp. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + You know what it contains? + +BUTLER. + +Question me not! + +TERZKY. + + Illo, alas for us! + +WALLENST. + +Hide nothing from me--I can hear the worst. +Prague then is lost? It is! Confess it freely. + +BUTLER. + +Yes! Prague is lost. And all the several regiments +At Budweiss, Tabor, Braunau, Koenigingratz, +At Brunn and Zanaym, have forsaken you, +And ta'en oaths of fealty anew +To the Emperor. Yourself, with Kinsky, Terzky, +And Illo have been sentenced. + +[TERZKY _and_ ILLO _express alarm and fury_. WALLENSTEIN +_remains firm and collected_.] + +WALLENSTEIN. + + 'Tis decided! +'Tis well! I have received a sudden cure +From all the pangs of doubt: with steady stream +Once more my life-blood flows! My soul's secure! +In the night only Friedland's stars can beam. +Lingering irresolute, with fitful fears +I drew the sword--'twas with an inward strife, +While yet the choice was mine. The murderous knife +Is lifted for my heart! Doubt disappears! +I fight now for my head and for my life. + + [_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; _the others follow him_.] + + +SCENE XI + + +COUNTESS TERZKY (_enters from a side room_). + +I can endure no longer. No! + + [_Looks around her_.] + + Where are they! +No one is here. They leave me all alone, +Alone in this sore anguish of suspense. +And I must wear the outward show of calmness +Before my sister, and shut in within me +The pangs and agonies of my crowded bosom. +It is not to be borne. If all should fail; +If--if he must go over to the Swedes, +An empty-handed fugitive, and not +As an ally, a covenanted equal, +A proud commander with his army following, +If we must wander on from land to land, +Like the Count Palatine, of fallen greatness +An ignominious monument! But no! +That day I will not see! And could himself +Endure to sink so low, I would not bear +To see him so low sunken. + + +SCENE XII + + +COUNTESS, DUCHESS, THEKLA + +THEKLA (_endeavoring to hold back the_ DUCHESS). + +Dear mother, do stay here! + +DUCHESS. + + No! Here is yet +Some frightful mystery that is hidden from me. +Why does my sister shun me? Don't I see her +Full of suspense and anguish roam about +From room to room? Art thou not full of terror? +And what import these silent nods and gestures +Which stealthwise thou exchangest with her? + +THEKLA. + + Nothing: +Nothing, dear mother! + +DUCHESS (_to the_ COUNTESS). + + Sister, I will know. + +COUNTESS. + +What boots it now to hide it from her? Sooner +Or later she _must_ learn to hear and bear it. +'Tis not the time now to indulge infirmity; +Courage beseems us now, a heart collect, +And exercise and previous discipline +Of fortitude. One word, and over with it! +Sister, you are deluded. You believe +The Duke has been deposed--the Duke is not +Deposed--he is-- + +THEKLA (_going to the_ COUNTESS). + + What? do you wish to kill her? + +COUNTESS. + +The Duke is-- + +THEKLA (_throwing her arms round her mother_). + + O stand firm; stand firm, my mother! + +COUNTESS. + +Revolted is the Duke; he is preparing +To join the enemy; the army leave him, +And all has fail'd. + + +SCENE XIII + + +A spacious Room in the Duke of Friedland's Palace. + + +WALLENSTEIN (_in armor_). + +Thou hast gain'd thy point, Octavio! Once more am I +Almost as friendless as at Regensburg. +There I had nothing left me, but myself; +But what one man can do, you have now experience. +The twigs have you hew'd off, and here I stand +A leafless trunk. But in the sap within +Lives the creating power, and a new world +May sprout forth from it. Once already have I +Proved myself worth an army to you--I alone! +Before the Swedish strength your troops had melted; +Beside the Lech sank Tilly your last hope; +Into Bavaria like a winter torrent, +Did that Gustavus pour, and at Vienna +In his own palace did the Emperor tremble. +Soldiers were scarce, for still the multitude +Follow the luck: all eyes were turn'd on me, +Their helper in distress: the Emperor's pride +Bow'd itself down before the man he had injured. +'Twas I must rise, and with creative word +Assemble forces in the desolate camps. +I did it. Like a god of war, my name +Went through the world. The drum was beat; and, lo, +The plough, the workshop is forsaken, all +Swarm to the old familiar long-loved banners; +And as the wood-choir rich in melody +Assemble quick around the bird of wonder, +When first his throat swells with his magic song, +So did the warlike youth of Germany +Crowd in around the image of my eagle. +I feel myself the being that I was. +It is the soul that builds itself a body, +And Friedland's camp will not remain unfill'd. +Lead then your thousands out to meet me--true! +They are accustom'd under me to conquer, +But not against me. If the head and limbs +Separate from each other, 'twill be soon +Made manifest in which the soul abode. + + (ILLO _and_ TERZKY _enter_) + +Courage, friends! courage! we are still unvanquish'd! +I feel my footing firm; five regiments, Terzky, +Are still our own, and Butler's gallant troops; +And an host of sixteen thousand Swedes to-morrow. +I was not stronger when, nine years ago, +I marched forth, with glad heart and high of hope, +To conquer Germany for the Emperor. + + +SCENE XIV + + +WALLENSTEIN, ILLO, TERZKY + +(_To them enter_ NEUMANN, _who leads_ TERZKY _aside and +talks with him_.) + +TERZKY. + +What do they want? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now! + +TERZKY. + + Ten Cuirassiers +From Pappenheim request leave to address you +In the name of the regiment. + +WALLENSTEIN (_hastily to_ NEUMANN). + +Let them enter. + + [_Exit_ NEUMANN.] + + This +May end in something. Mark you. They are still +Doubtful, and may be won. + + +SCENE XV + + +WALLENSTEIN, TERZBY, ILLO, _ten_ Cuirassiers (_led by an_ +ANSPESSADE,[27] _march up and arrange themselves, after the +word of command, in one front before the Duke, and make +their obeisance. He takes his hat off and immediately covers +himself again_). + +ANSPESS. + +Halt! Front! Present! + +WALLENSTEIN (_after he has run through them with his eye, +to the_ ANSPESSADE). + +I know thee well. Thou art out of Brueggen in Flanders. +Thy name is Mercy. + +ANSPESS. + + Henry Mercy. + +WALLENST. + +Thou wert cut off on the march, surrounded by +the Hessians, and didst fight thy way with +an hundred and eighty men through their +thousand. + +ANSPESS. + +'Twas even so, General! + +WALLENST. + + What reward hadst thou for this gallant exploit? + +ANSPESS. + +That which I asked for: the honor to serve in +this corps. + +WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a second_). + +Thou wert among the volunteers that seized and +made booty of the Swedish battery at Altenburg. + +2D CUIRAS. + +Yes, General. + +WALLENST. + +I forget no one with whom I have exchanged +words. + + (_A pause_.) + + Who sends you? + +ANSPESS. + +Your noble regiment, the Cuirassiers of Piccolomini. + +WALLENST. + +Why does not your colonel deliver in your request, +according to the custom of service? + +ANSPESS. + +Because we would first know _whom_ we serve. + +WALLENST. + +Begin your address. + +ANSPESSADE (_giving the word of command_). + +Shoulder your arms! + +WALLENSTEIN (_turning to a third_). + +Thy name is Risbeck; Cologne is thy birth-place. + +3D CUIRAS. + +Risbeck of Cologne. + +WALLENST. + +It was thou that broughtest in the Swedish colonel, +Duebald, prisoner, in the camp at Nuremberg. + +3D CUIRAS. + +It was not I, General. + +WALLENST. + +Perfectly right! It was thy elder brother: thou +hadst a younger brother too: Where did he +stay? + +3D CUIRAS. + +He is stationed at Olmuetz, with the Imperial +army. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ ANSPESSADE). + +Now then--begin. + +ANSPESS. + +There came to hand a letter from the Emperor +Commanding us-- + +WALLENSTEIN (_interrupting him_). + + Who chose you? + +ANSPESSADE. + + Every company +Drew its own man by lot. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Now to the business. + +ANSPESS. + +There came to hand a letter from the Emperor +Commanding us collectively, from thee +All duties of obedience to withdraw, +Because thou wert an enemy and traitor. + +WALLENST. + +And what did you determine? + +ANSPESSADE. + + All our comrades +At Braunau, Budweiss, Prague and Olmuetz, have +Obey'd already; and the regiments here, +Tiefenbach and Toscano, instantly +Did follow their example. But--but we +Do not believe that thou art an enemy +And traitor to thy country, hold it merely +For lie and trick and a trumped-up Spanish story! + + [_With warmth_.] + +Thyself shalt tell us what thy purpose is, +For we have found thee still sincere and true: +No mouth shall interpose itself betwixt +The gallant General and the gallant troops. + +WALLENST. + +Therein I recognize my Pappenheimers. + +ANSPESS. + +And this proposal makes thy regiment to thee. +Is it thy purpose merely to preserve +In thine own hands this military sceptre, +Which so becomes thee, which the Emperor +Made over to thee by a covenant? +Is it thy purpose merely to remain +Supreme commander of the Austrian armies?-- +We will stand by thee, General! and guarantee +Thy honest rights against all opposition. +And should it chance that all the other regiments +Turn from thee, by ourselves will we stand forth +Thy faithful soldiers, and, as is our duty, +Far rather let ourselves be cut to pieces +Than suffer thee to fall. But if it be +As the Emperor's letter says, if it be true, +That thou in traitorous wise wilt lead us over +To the enemy, which God in heaven forbid! +Then we too will forsake thee, and obey +That letter-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Hear me, children! + +ANSPESSADE. + + Yes, or no! +There needs no other answer. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Yield attention. +You're men of sense, examine for yourselves; +Ye think, and do not follow with the herd +And therefore have I always shown you honor +Above all others, suffer'd you to reason; +Have treated you as free men, and my orders +Were but the echoes of your prior suffrage.-- + +ANSPESS. + +Most fair and noble has thy conduct been +To us, my General! With thy confidence +Thou hast honor'd us, and shown us grace and favor +Beyond all other regiments; and thou seest +We follow not the common herd. We will +Standby thee faithfully. Speak but one word-- +Thy word shall satisfy us, that it is not +A treason which thou meditatest--that +Thou meanest not to lead the army over +To the enemy, nor e'er betray the country. + +WALLENST. + +Me, me are they betraying. The Emperor +Hath sacrificed me to my enemies, +And I must fall, unless my gallant troops +Will rescue me. See! I confide in you. +And be your hearts my stronghold! At this breast +The aim is taken, at this hoary head. +This is your Spanish gratitude, this is our +Requital for that murderous fight at Luetzen! +For this we threw the naked breast against +The halbert, made for this the frozen earth +Our bed, and the hard stone our pillow! never stream +Too rapid for us, nor wood too impervious; +With cheerful spirit we pursued that Mansfeldt +Through all the turns and windings of his flight: +Yea, our whole life was but one restless march: +And homeless, as the stirring wind, we travel'd +O'er the war-wasted earth. And now, even now, +That we have well-nigh finish'd the hard toil, +The unthankful, the curse-laden toil of weapons, +With faithful indefatigable arm +Have roll'd the heavy war-load up the hill, +Behold! this boy of the Emperor's bears away +The honors of the peace, an easy prize! +He'll weave, forsooth, into his flaxen locks +The olive branch, the hard-earn'd ornament +Of this gray head, grown gray beneath the helmet. + +ANSPESS. + +That shall he not, while we can hinder it! +No one, but thou, who hast conducted it +With fame, shall end this war, this frightful war. +Thou leddest us out to the bloody field +Of death; thou and no other shalt conduct us home, +Rejoicing, to the lovely plains of peace-- +Shalt share with us the fruits of the long toil-- + +WALLENST. + +What! Think you then at length in late old age +To enjoy the fruits of toil? Believe it not. +Never, no never, will you see the end +Of the contest! you and me, and all of us, +This war will swallow up! War, war, not peace, +Is Austria's wish; and therefore, because I +Endeavor'd after peace, therefore I fall, +For what cares Austria how long the war +Wears out the armies and lays waste the world! +She will but wax and grow amid the ruin +And still win new domains. + +[_The_ Cuirassiers _express agitation by their gestures_.] + + Ye're moved--I see +A noble rage flash from your eyes, ye warriors! +Oh that my spirit might possess you now +Daring as once it led you to the battle! +Ye would stand by me with your veteran arms, +Protect me in my rights; and this is noble! +But think not that _you_ can accomplish it, +Your scanty number! to no purpose will you +Have sacrificed you for your General. + + [_Confidentially_.] + +No! let us tread securely, seek for friends; +The Swedes have proffer'd us assistance, let us +Wear for a while the appearance of good will, +And use them for your profit, till we both +Carry the fate of Europe in our hands, +And from our camp to the glad jubilant world +Lead Peace forth with the garland on her head! + +ANSPESS. + +'Tis then but mere appearances which thou +Dost put on with the Swede! Thou'lt not betray +The Emperor? Wilt not turn us into Swedes? +This is the only thing which we desire +To learn from thee. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What care I for the Swedes? +I hate them as I hate the pit of hell, +And under Providence I trust right soon +To chase them to their homes across their Baltic. +My cares are only for the whole: I have +A heart--it bleeds within me for the miseries +And piteous groaning of my fellow Germans. +Ye are but common men, but yet ye think +With minds not common; ye appear to me +Worthy before all others that I whisper ye +A little word or two in confidence! +See now! already for full fifteen years, +The war-torch has continued burning, yet +No rest, no pause of conflict. Swede and German, +Papist and Lutheran! neither will give way +To the other, every hand's against the other. +Each one is party and no one a judge. +Where shall this end? Where's he that will unravel +This tangle, ever tangling more and more; +It must be cut asunder; +I feel that I am the man of destiny, +And trust, with your assistance, to accomplish it. + + +SCENE XVI + + +_To these enter_ BUTLER + +BUTLER (_passionately_). + +General! This is not right! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is not right? + +BUTLER. + +It must needs injure us with all honest men. + +WALLENST. + +But What? + +BUTLER. + + It is an open proclamation +Of insurrection. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Well, well--but what is it? + +BUTLER. + +Count Terzky's regiments tear the Imperial Eagle +From off the banners, and instead of it +Have rear'd aloft their arms. + +ANSPESSADE (_abruptly to the_ Cuirassiers). + + Right about! March! + +WALLENST. + +Cursed be this counsel, and accursed who gave it! + + [_To the_ Cuirassiers, _who are retiring_.] + +Halt, children, halt! There's some mistake in this; +Hark!--I will punish it severely. Stop! +They do not hear. (_To_ ILLO.) Go after them, assure them, +And bring them back to me, cost what it may. + + [ILLO _hurries out_.] + +This hurls us headlong. Butler! Butler! +You are my evil genius! Wherefore must you +Announce it in their presence? It was all +In a fair way. They were half won! those madmen +With their improvident over-readiness-- +cruel game is Fortune playing with me. +The zeal of friends it is that razes me, +And not the hate of enemies. + + +SCENE XVII + + +_To these enter the_ DUCHESS, _who rushes into the Chamber_ +THEKLA _and the_ COUNTESS _follow her_. + +DUCHESS. + + O Albrecht! +What hast thou done? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + And now comes this beside. + +COUNTESS. + +Forgive me, brother! It was not in my power-- +They know all. + +DUCHESS. + + What hast thou done? + +COUNTESS (_to_ TERZKY). + +Is there no hope? Is all lost utterly? + +TERZKY. + +All lost. No hope. Prague in the Emperor's hands, +The soldiery have ta'en their oaths anew. + +COUNTESS. + +That lurking hypocrite, Octavio! +Count Max is off too. + +TERZKY. + + Where can he be? He's +Gone over to the Emperor with his father. + +[THEKLA _rushes out into the arms of her mother, hiding her +face in her bosom_.] + +DUCHESS (_enfolding her in her arms_). + +Unhappy child! and more unhappy mother! + +WALLENSTEIN (_aside to_ TERZKY). + +Quick! Let a carriage stand in readiness +In the court behind the palace. Scherfenberg +Be their attendant; he is faithful to us; +To Egra he'll conduct them, and we follow. + + [_To_ ILLO, _who returns_.] + +Thou hast not brought them back? + +ILLO. + + Hear'st thou the uproar? +The whole corps of the Pappenheimers is +Drawn out: the younger Piccolomini, +Their colonel, they require: for they affirm +That he is in the palace here, a prisoner; +And if thou dost not instantly deliver him, +They will find means to free him with the sword. + + [_All stand amazed_.] + +TERZKY. + +What shall we make of this? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Said I not so? +O my prophetic heart! he is still here. +He has not betray'd me--he could not betray me. +I never doubted of it. + +COUNTESS. + + If he be +Still here, then all goes well; for I know what + + [_Embracing_ THEKLA] + +Will keep him here forever. + +TERZKY. + + It can't be. +His father has betray'd us, is gone over +To the Emperor--the son could not have ventured +To stay behind. + +THEKLA (_her eyes fixed on the door_). + + There he is! + + +SCENE XVIII + + +_To these enter_ MAX PICCOLOMINI + +MAX. + +Yes! here he is! I can endure no longer +To creep on tiptoe round this house, and lurk +In ambush for a favorable moment: +This loitering, this suspense exceeds my powers. + +[_Advancing to_ THEKLA, _who has thrown herself into her +mother's arms_.] + +Turn not thine eyes away. O look upon me! +Confess it freely before all. Fear no one. +Let who will hear that we both love each other; +Wherefore continue to conceal it? Secrecy +Is for the happy--misery, hopeless misery, +Needeth no veil! Beneath a thousand suns +It dares act openly. + +[_He observes the_ COUNTESS _looking on_ THEKLA _with +expressions of triumph_.] + + No, Lady! No! +Expect not, hope it not. I am not come +To stay: to bid farewell, farewell forever. +For this I come! 'Tis over! I must leave thee! +Thekla, I must--_must_ leave thee! Yet thy hatred +Let me not take with me. I pray thee, grant me +One look of sympathy, only one look. +Say that thou dost not hate me. Say it to me, +Thekla! + +[_Grasps her hand_.] + +O God! I cannot leave this spot--I cannot! +Cannot let go this hand. O tell me, Thekla! +That thou dost suffer with me, art convinced +That I cannot act otherwise. + +[THEKLA, _avoiding his look, points with her hand to her +father_. MAX _turns round to the Duke, whom he had not till +then perceived_.] + +Thou here? It was not thou whom here I sought. +I trusted never more to have beheld thee. +My business is with her alone. Here will I +Receive a full acquittal from this heart-- +For any other I am no more concern'd. + +WALLENST. + +Think'st thou that, fool-like, I shall let thee go, +And act the mock-magnanimous with thee? +Thy father is become a villain to me; +I hold thee for his son, and nothing more: +Nor to no purpose shalt thou have been given +Into my power. Think not that I will honor +That ancient love, which so remorselessly +He mangled. They are now past by, those hours +Of friendship and forgiveness. Hate and vengeance +Succeed--'tis now their turn--I too can throw +All feelings of the man aside--can prove +Myself as much a monster as thy father! + +MAX. (_calmly_). + +Thou wilt proceed with me, as thou hast power. +Thou know'st, I neither brave nor fear thy rage. +What has detain'd me here, that too thou know'st. + +[_Taking_ THEKLA _by the hand_.] + +See, Duke! All--all would I have owed to thee, +Would have received from thy paternal hand +The lot of blessed spirits. This hast thou +Laid waste forever--that concerns not thee; +Indifferent thou tramplest in the dust +Their happiness who most are thine. The god +Whom thou dost serve is no benignant deity +Like as the blind, irreconcilable, +Fierce element, incapable of compact, +Thy heart's wild impulse only dost thou follow.[28] + +WALLENST. + +Thou art describing thy own father's heart. +The adder! O, the charms of hell o'erpowered me; +He dwelt within me, to my inmost soul +Still to and fro he pass'd, suspected never +On the wide ocean, in the starry heaven +Did mine eyes seek the enemy, whom I +In my heart's heart had folded! Had I been +To _Ferdinand_ what Octavio was to _me_, +War had I ne'er denounced against him. No, +I never could have done it. The Emperor was +My austere master only, not my friend. +There was already war 'twixt him and me +When he deliver'd the Commander's Staff +Into my hands; for there's a natural, +Unceasing war 'twixt cunning and suspicion; +Peace exists only betwixt confidence +And faith. Who poisons confidence, he murders +The future generations. + +MAX. + + I will not +Defend my father. Woe is me, I cannot! +Hard deeds and luckless have ta'en place; one crime +Drags after it the other in close link. +But we are innocent: how have we fallen +Into this circle of mishap and guilt? +To whom have we been faithless? Wherefore must +The evil deeds and guilt reciprocal +Of our two fathers twine like serpents round us? + Why must our fathers' +Unconquerable hate rend us asunder, +Who love each other? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Max, remain with me. +Go you not from me, Max! Hark! I will tell thee-- +How when at Prague, our winter quarters, thou +Wert brought into my tent a tender boy, +Not yet accustom'd to the German winters; +Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colors; +Thou wouldst not let them go.-- +At that time did I take thee in my arms, +And with my mantle did I cover thee; +I was thy nurse, no woman could have been +A kinder to thee; I was not ashamed +To do for thee all little offices, +However strange to me; I tended thee +Till life return'd; and when thine eyes first open'd, +I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have +Alter'd my feelings toward thee? Many thousands +Have I made rich, presented them with lands; +Rewarded them with dignities and honors; +Thee have I _loved_: my heart, my self, I gave +To thee! They all were aliens: THOU went +Our child and inmate.[29] Max! Thou cans't not leave me; +It cannot be; I may not, will not think +That Max can leave me. + +MAX. + + O my God! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + I have +Held and sustain'd thee from thy tottering childhood; +What holy bond is there of natural love, +What human tie, that does not knit thee to me? +I love thee, Max! What did thy father for thee, +Which I too have not done, to the height of duty? +Go hence, forsake me, serve thy Emperor; +He will reward thee with a pretty chain +Of gold; with his ram's fleece will he reward thee; +For that the friend, the father of thy youth, +For that the holiest feeling of humanity, +Was nothing worth to thee. + +MAX. + + O God! how can I +Do otherwise? Am I not forced to do it? +My oath--my duty--my honor-- + +WALLENSTEIN. + + How? Thy duty? +Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max! bethink thee +What duties mayst _thou_ have? If _I_ am acting +A criminal part toward the Emperor, +It is my crime, not thine. Dost thou belong +To thine own self? Art thou thine own commander? +Stand'st thou, like me, a freeman in the world, +That in thy actions thou shouldst plead free agency? +On me thou'rt planted, I am thy Emperor; +To obey _me_, to _belong_ to me, this is +Thy honor, this a law of nature to thee! +And if the planet, on the which thou livest +And hast thy dwelling, from its orbit starts, +It is not in thy choice whether or no +Thou'lt follow it. Unfelt it whirls thee onward +Together with his ring, and all his moons. +With little guilt stepp'st thou into this contest, +Thee will the world not censure, it will praise thee, +For that thou held'st thy friend more worth to thee +Than names and influences more removed; +For justice is the virtue of the ruler, +Affection and fidelity the subject's. +Not every one doth it beseem to question +The far-off high Arcturus. Most securely +Wilt thou pursue the nearest duty: let +The pilot fix his eye upon the pole-star. + + +SCENE XIX + + +_To these enter_ NEUMANN + +WALLENST. + + What now? + +NEUMANN. + +The Pappenheimers are dismounted, +And are advancing now on foot, determined +With sword in hand to storm the house, and free +The Count, their colonel. + +WALLENSTEIN (_to_ TERZKY). + + Have the cannon planted. +I will receive them with chain-shot. + + [_Exit_ TERZKY + +Prescribe to me with sword in hand! Go, Neumann, +'Tis my command that they retreat this moment, +And in their ranks in silence wait my pleasure. + + [NEUMANN _exit_. ILLO _steps to the window_.] + +COUNTESS. + Let him go, I entreat thee, let him go. + +ILLO (_at the window_). + +Hell and perdition! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is it? + +ILLO. They scale the council-house, the roof's uncovered, +They level at this house the cannon-- + +MAX. + + Madmen! + +ILLO. + +They are making preparations now to fire on us. + +DUCHESS and COUNTESS. +Merciful heaven! + +MAX (_to_ WALLENSTEIN). + + Let me go to them! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Not a step! + +MAX (_pointing to_ THEKLA _and the_ DUCHESS). + + But their life! Thine! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What tidings bring'st thou, Terzky? + + +SCENE XX + + +_To these_ TERZKY _returning_ + + +TERZKY. + +Message and greeting from our faithful regiments. +Their ardor may no longer be curb'd in. +They entreat permission to commence the attack; +And if thou wouldst but give the word of onset, +They could now charge the enemy in rear, +Into the city wedge them, and with ease +O'erpower them in the narrow streets. + +ILLO. + + O come! +Let not their ardor cool. The soldiery +Of Butler's corps stand by us faithfully; +We are the greater number. Let us charge them, +And finish here in Pilsen the revolt. + +WALLENST. + +What? shall this town become a field of slaughter, +And brother-killing Discord, fire-eyed, +Be let loose through its streets to roam and rage? +Shall the decision be deliver'd over +To deaf remorseless Rage, that hears no leader? +Here is not room for battle, only for butchery. +Well, let it be! I have long thought of it, +So let it burst them! + + [_Turns to_ MAX.] + + Well, how is it with thee? +Wilt thou attempt a heat with me? Away! +Thou art free to go. Oppose thyself to me, +Front against front, and lead them to the battle; +Thou'rt skill'd in war, thou hast learn'd somewhat under me, +I need not be ashamed of my opponent, +And never hadst thou fairer opportunity +To pay me for thy schooling. + +COUNTESS. + + Is it then, +Can it have come to this?--What! Cousin, cousin! +Have you the heart? + +MAX. + +The regiments that are trusted to my care +I have pledged my troth to bring away from Pilsen +True to the Emperor; and this promise will I +Make good, or perish. More than this no duty +Requires of me. I will not fight against thee, +Unless compell'd; for though an enemy, +Thy head is holy to me still. + +[_Two reports of cannon_. ILLO _and_ TERZKY _hurry to the +window_.] + +WALLENST. + + What's that? + +TERZKY. + + He falls. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Falls! Who? + +ILLO. + + Tiefenbach's corps +Discharged the ordnance. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Upon whom? + +ILLO. + + On Neumann, +Your messenger. + +WALLENSTEIN (_starting up_). + + Ha! Death and hell! I will-- + +TERZKY. + +Expose thyself to their blind frenzy? + +DUCHESS _and_ COUNTESS. + + No! +For God's sake, no! + +ILLO. + + Not yet, my General +O hold him! hold him! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Leave me. + +MAX. + + Do it not; +Not yet! This rash and bloody deed has thrown them +Into a frenzy-fit--allow them time-- + +WALLENST. + +Away! too long already have I loiter'd. +They are emboldened to these outrages, +Beholding not my face. They shall behold +My countenance, shall hear my voice-- +Are they not _my_ troops? Am I not their General, +And their long-fear'd commander? Let me see +Whether indeed they do no longer know +That countenance, which was their sun in battle! +From the balcony (mark!) I show myself +To these rebellious forces, and at once +Revolt is mounded, and the high-swoln current +Shrinks back into the old bed of obedience. + +[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN; ILLO, TERZKY, _and_ BUTLER _follow_.] + + +SCENE XXI + + +COUNTESS, DUCHESS, MAX _and_ THEKLA + +COUNTESS (_to the_ DUCHESS). + +Let them but see him--there is hope still, sister. + +DUCHESS. + +Hope! I have none! + +MAX (_who during the last scene has been standing at a +distance, in a visible struggle of feelings, advances_). + + This can I not endure. +With most determined soul did I come hither; +My purposed action seem'd unblamable +To my own conscience--and I must stand here +Like one abhorr'd, a hard inhuman being: +Yea, loaded with the curse of all I love! +Must see all whom I love in this sore anguish, +Whom I with one word can make happy--O! +My heart revolts within me, and two voices +Make themselves audible within my bosom. +My soul's benighted; I no longer can +Distinguish the right track. O, well and truly +Didst thou say, father, I relied too much +On my own heart. My mind moves to and fro-- +know not what to do. + +COUNTESS. + + What! you know not? +Does not your own heart tell you? O! then I +Will tell it you. Your father is a traitor, +A frightful traitor to us--he has plotted +Against our General's life, has plunged us all +In misery--and you're his son! 'Tis yours +To make the _amends_--Make you the son's fidelity +Outweigh the father's treason, that the name +Of Piccolomini be not a proverb +Of infamy, a common form of cursing +To the posterity of Wallenstein. + +MAX. + +Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow! +It speaks no longer in _my_ heart. We all +But utter what our passionate wishes dictate: +O that an angel would descend from heaven, +And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted, +With a pure hand from the pure fount of Light! + + [_His eyes glance on_ THEKLA.] + +What other angel seek I? To this heart, +To this unerring heart, will I submit it; +Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless +The happy man alone, averted ever +From the disquieted and guilty--_canst_ thou +Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst, +And I am the Duke's-- + +COUNTESS. + + Think, niece-- + +MAX. + + Think, nothing, Thekla! +Speak what thou _feelest_. + +COUNTESS. + + Think upon your father. + +MAX. + +I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. +Thee, the beloved and the unerring god +Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake? +Not whether diadem of royalty +Be to be won or not--that mightst thou _think_ on. +Thy friend, and his soul's quiet, are at stake: +The fortune of a thousand gallant men, +Who will all follow me; shall I forswear +My oath and duty to the Emperor? +Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp +The parricidal ball? For when the ball +Has left its cannon, and is on its flight, +It is no longer a dead instrument! +It lives, a spirit passes into it, +The avenging furies seize possession of it, +And with sure malice guide it the worst way. + +THEIKLA. + +O! Max-- + +MAX (_interrupting her_). + + Nay, not precipitately either, Thekla, +I understand thee. To thy noble heart +The hardest duty might appear the highest. +The human, not the great part, would I act +Even from my childhood to this present hour. +Think what the Duke has done--for me, how loved me +And think, too, how my father has repaid him. +O likewise the free lovely impulses +Of hospitality, the pious friend's +Faithful attachment, these, too, are a holy +Religion to the heart; and heavily +The shudderings of nature do avenge +Themselves on the barbarian that insults them. +Lay all upon the balance, all--then speak, +And let thy heart decide it. + +THEKLA. + + O, thy own +Hath long ago decided. Follow thou +Thy heart's first feeling-- + +COUNTESS. + + Oh! ill-fated woman. + +THEKLA. + +Is it possible that that can be the right, +The which thy tender heart did not at first +Detect and seize with instant impulse? Go, +Fulfil thy duty! I should ever love thee +What'er thou hadst chosen, thou wouldst still have acted +Nobly and worthy of thee--but repentance +Shall ne'er disturb thy soul's fair peace. + +MAX. + + Then I +Must leave thee, must part from thee! + +THEKLA. + + Being faithful +To thine own self, thou art faithful, too, to me; +If our fates part, our hearts remain united. +A bloody hatred will divide forever +The houses Piccolomini and Friedland; +But we belong not to our houses. Go! +Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause +From our unholy and unblessed one! +The curse of Heaven lies upon our head: +'Tis dedicate to ruin. Even me +My father's guilt drags with it to perdition. +Mourn not for me: +My destiny will quickly be decided. + +[MAX _clasps her in his arms in extreme emotion. There +is heard from behind the scenes a loud, wild, long +continued cry_, Vivat Ferdinandus! _accompanied by warlike +instruments_. MAX _and_ THEKLA _remain without motion in +each other's embraces_.] + + +SCENE XXII + + +_To the above enter_ TERZKY + +COUNTESS (_meeting him_). + +What meant that cry? What was it? + +TERZKY. + + All is lost! + +COUNTESS. + +What! they regarded not his countenance? + +TERZKY. + +'Twas all in vain. + +DUCHESS. + + They shouted Vivat!-- + +TERZKY. + + To the Emperor. + +COUNTESS. + +The traitors! + +TERZIBY. + + Nay! he was not permitted +Even to address them. Soon as he began, +With deafening noise of warlike instruments +They drown'd his words. But here he comes. + + +SCENE XXIII + + +_To these enter_ WALLENSTEIN, _accompanied by_ ILLO _and_ +BUTLER + +WALLENSTEIN (_as he enters_). + + Terzky! + +TERZKY. + +My General! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Let our regiments hold themselves +In readiness to march; for we shall leave +Pilsen ere evening. + + [_Exit_ TERZKY.] + + Butler! + +BUTLER. + + Yes, my General. + +WALLENST. + +The Governor of Egra is your friend +And countryman. Write to him instantly +By a post-courier. He must be advised, +That we are with him early on the morrow. +You follow us yourself, your regiment with you. + +BUTLER. + +It shall be done, my General! + +WALLENSTEIN (_steps between_ MAX _and_ THEKLA, _who have +remained during this time in each other's arms_). + + Part! + +MAX. + + O God! + +[Cuirassiers _enter with drawn swords, and assemble in the +background. At the same time there are heard from below some +spirited passages out of the Pappenheim March, which seem to +address_ MAX.] + +WALLENSTEIN (_to the Cuirassiers_). + +Here he is, he is at liberty: I keep him +No longer. + +[_He turns away, and stands so that_ MAX _cannot pass by him +nor approach the_ PRINCESS.] + +MAX. + +Thou know'st that I have not yet learnt to live +Without thee! I go forth into a desert, +Leaving my all behind me. O do not turn +Thine eyes away from me! O once more show me +Thy ever dear and honor'd countenance! + +[MAX _attempts to take his hand, but is repelled; he turns +to the_ COUNTESS.] + +Is there no eye that has a look of pity for me? + +[_The_ COUNTESS _turns away from him; he turns to the_ +DUCHESS.] + +My mother! + +DUCHESS. + + Go where duty calls you. Haply +The time may come, when you may prove to us +A true friend, a good angel at the throne +Of the Emperor. + +MAX. + + You give me hope; you would not +Suffer me wholly to despair. No! no! +Mine is a certain misery. Thanks to Heaven! +That offers me a means of ending it. + +[_The military music begins again. The stage fills more and +more with armed men_. MAX _sees_ BUTLER _and addresses +him_.] + +And you here, Colonel Butler--and will you +Not follow me? Well, then! remain more faithful +To your new lord than you have proved yourself +To the Emperor. Come, Butler! promise me, +Give me your hand upon it, that you'll be +The guardian of his life, its shield, its watchman. +He is attainted, and his princely head +Fair booty for each slave that trades in murder. +Now he doth need the faithful eye of friendship, +And those whom here I see-- + +[_Casting suspicious looks on_ ILLO _and_ BUTLER.] + +ILLO. + +Go--seek for traitors +In Gallas', in your father's quarters. Here +Is only one. Away! away! and free us +From his detested sight! Away! + +[MAX _attempts once more to approach_ THEKLA. WALLENSTEIN +_prevents him_. MAX _stands irresolute, and in apparent +anguish. In the mean time the stage fills more and more; and +the horns sound from below louder and louder, and each time +after a shorter interval_.] + +MAX. + +Blow! blow! O were it but the Swedish trumpets, +And all the naked swords, which I see here, +Were plunged into my breast! What purpose you? +You come to tear me from this place! Beware, +Ye drive me not to desperation. Do it not! +Ye may repent it! + +[_The stage is entirely filled with armed men_.] + +Yet more! weight upon weight to drag me down! +Think what ye're doing. It is not well done +To choose a man despairing for your leader; +You tear me from my happiness. Well, then, +I dedicate your souls to vengeance. Mark! +For your own ruin you have chosen me: +Who goes with me, must be prepared to perish. + +[_He turns to the background, there ensues a sudden and +violent movement among the Cuirassiers; they surround him, +and carry him off in wild tumult_. WALLENSTEIN_ remains +immovable_. THEKLA _sinks into her mother's arms. The +curtain falls. The music becomes loud and overpowering, and +passes into a complete war march--the orchestra joins it and +continues during the interval between the second and third +Act_.] + + +ACT IV + + +SCENE I + +_The Burgomaster's House at Egra_ + +BUTLER (_just arrived_). + +Here then he is, by his destiny conducted. +Here, Friedland! and no farther! From Bohemia +Thy meteor rose, traversed the sky awhile, +And here upon the borders of Bohemia +Must sink. + + Thou hast foresworn the ancient colors, +Blind man! yet trustest to thy ancient fortunes. +Profaner of the altar and the hearth, +Against thy Emperor and fellow citizens +Thou mean'st to wage the war. Friedland, beware-- +The evil spirit of revenge impels thee-- +Beware thou, that revenge destroy thee not! + + +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. + + + +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_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_A Saloon, terminated by a Gallery which extends far into +the background_. + +WALLENSTEIN _Sitting at a table. The_ SWEDISH CAPTAIN +_standing before him_. + +WALLENST. + +Commend me to your lord. I sympathize +In his good fortune; and if you have seen me +Deficient in the expressions; of that joy, +Which such a victory might well demand, +Attribute it to no lack of good will, +For henceforth are our fortunes one. Farewell, +And for your trouble take my thanks. Tomorrow +The citadel shall be surrendered to you +On your arrival. + +[_The_ SWEDISH CAPTAIN _retires_. WALLENSTEIN _sits lost in +thought, his eyes fixed vacantly, and his head sustained by +his hand. The_ COUNTESS TERZKY _enters, stands before him +for awhile, unobserved by him; at length he starts, sees her +and recollects himself_.] + +WALLENST. + +Comest thou from her? Is she restored? How +is she? + +COUNTESS. + +My sister tells me, she was more collected +After her conversation with the Swede. +She has now retired to rest. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + The pang will soften; +She will shed tears. + +COUNTESS. + + I find thee alter'd too, +My brother! After such a victory +I had expected to have found in thee +A cheerful spirit. O remain _thou_ firm! +Sustain, uphold us! For our light thou art, +Our sun. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Be quiet. I ail nothing. Where's +Thy husband? + +COUNTESS. + + At a banquet--he and Illo. + +WALLENSTEIN _(rises and strides across the saloon)_. + +The night's far spent. Betake thee to thy +chamber. + +COUNTESS. + +Bid me not go, O let me stay with thee! + +WALLENSTEIN _(moves to the window)_. + +There is a busy motion in the Heaven, +The wind doth chase the flag upon the tower, +Fast sweep the clouds, the sickle[34] of the moon, +Struggling, darts snatches of uncertain light; +No form of star is visible! That one +White stain of light, that single glimmering yonder, +Is from Cassiopeia, and therein +Is Jupiter. + + (_A pause_). + + But now +The blackness of the troubled element hides him! +[_He sinks into profound melancholy, and looks +vacantly into the distance_.] + +COUNTESS (_looks on him mournfully, then grasps his hand_). + +What art thou brooding on? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Methinks, +If I but saw him, 'twould be well with me. +He is the star of my nativity, +And often marvelously hath his aspect +Shot strength into my heart. + +COUNTESS. + + Thou'lt see him again. + +WALLENSTEIN _(remains for a while, with, absent mind, then +assumes a livelier manner, and turning suddenly to the_ +COUNTESS). + +See him again? O never, never again! + +COUNTESS. + +How? + +WALLENSTEIN. + +He is gone--is dust. + +COUNTESS. + + Whom meanest thou, then? + +WALLENST. + +He, the more fortunate! yea, he hath finish'd! +For him there is no longer any future, +His life is bright--bright without spot it _was_, +And cannot cease to be. No ominous hour +Knocks at his door with tidings of mishap; +Far off is he, above desire and fear; +No more submitted to the change and chance +Of the unsteady planets. O 'tis well +With him! but who knows what the coming hour +Veil'd in thick darkness brings for us? + +COUNTESS. + + Thou speakest +Of Piccolomini. What was his death? +The courier had just left thee as I came. + +[WALLENSTEIN _by a motion of his hand makes signs to her to +be silent._] + +Turn not thine eyes upon the backward view, +Let us look forward into sunny days, +Welcome with joyous heart the victory, +Forget what it has cost thee. Not today, +For the first time, thy friend was to thee dead; +To thee he died, when first he parted from thee. + +WALLENST. + +This anguish will be wearied down,[35] I know; +What pang is permanent with man? From the highest, +As from the vilest thing of every day, +He learns to wean himself: for the strong hours +Conquer him. Yet I feel what I have lost +In him. The bloom is vanish'd from my life; +For O! he stood beside me, like my youth, +Transform'd for me the real to a dream, +Clothing the palpable and the familiar +With golden exhalations of the dawn. +Whatever fortunes wait my future toils, +The _beautiful_ is vanish'd--and returns not. + +COUNTESS. + +O be not treacherous to thy own power. +Thy heart is rich enough to vivify +Itself. Thou lovest and prizest virtues in him, +The which thyself didst plant, thyself unfold. + +WALLENSTEIN _(stepping to the door_). + +Who interrupts us now at this late hour? +It is the Governor. He brings the keys +Of the Citadel. 'Tis midnight. Leave me, sister! + +COUNTESS. + +O 'tis so hard to me this night to leave thee-- +A boding fear possesses me! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Fear! Wherefore? + +COUNTESS. + +Shouldst thou depart this night, and we at waking +Never more find thee! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Fancies! + +COUNTESS. + + O my soul +Has long been weigh'd down by these dark fore-bodings, +And if I combat and repel them waking, +They will crush down upon my heart in dreams. +I saw thee yesternight with thy first wife +Sit at a banquet, gorgeously attired. + +WALLENST. + +This was a dream of favorable omen, +That marriage being the founder of my fortunes. + +COUNTESS. + +Today I dreamt that I was seeking thee +In thy own chamber. As I enter'd, lo! +It was no more a chamber: the Chartreuse +At Gitschin 'twas, which thou thyself hast founded, +And where it is thy will that thou should'st be +Interr'd. + +WALLENSTEIN. + +Thy soul is busy with these thoughts. + +COUNTESS. + +What! dost thou not believe that oft in dreams +A voice of warning speaks prophetic to us? + +WALTENST. + +There is no doubt that there exist such voices; +Yet I would not call _them_ +Voices of warning that announce to us +Only the inevitable. As the sun, +Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image +In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits +Of great events stride on before the events, +And in today already walks tomorrow. +That which we read of the fourth Henry's death +Did ever vex and haunt me like a tale +Of my own future destiny. The king +Felt in his breast the phantom of the knife, +Long ere Ravaillac arm'd himself therewith. +His quiet mind forsook him: the phantasma +Started him in his Louvre, chased him forth +Into the open air: like funeral knells +Sounded that coronation festival; +And still with boding sense he heard the tread +Of those feet that even then were seeking him +Throughout the streets of Paris. + +COUNTESS. + + And to _thee_ +The voice within thy soul bodes nothing? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Nothing. +Be wholly tranquil. + +COUNTESS. + + And another time +I hasten'd after thee, and thou ran'st from me +Through a long suite, through many a spacious hall. +There seem'd no end of it: doors creak'd and clapp'd; +I follow'd panting, but could not o'ertake thee; +When on a sudden did I feel myself +Grasp'd from behind--the hand was cold that grasped me-- +'Twas thou, and thou didst kiss me, and there seem'd +A crimson covering to envelop us. + +WALLENST. That is the crimson tapestry of my chamber. + +COUNTESS _(gazing on him)._ +If it should come to that--if I should see thee, +Who standest now before me in the fulness +Of life-- + +_[She falls on his breast and weeps_.] + +WALLENST. + +The Emperor's proclamation weighs upon thee-- +Alphabets wound not--and he finds no hands. + +COUNTESS. + +If he _should_ find them, my resolve is taken-- +I bear about me my support and refuge. + + [_Exit_ COUNTESS.] + + +SCENE IV + + +WALLENSTEIN, GORDON + +WALLENST. + +All quiet in the town? + +GORDON. + + The town is quiet. + +WALLENST. + +I hear a boisterous music! and the Castle +Is lighted up. Who are the revellers? + +GORDON. + +There is a banquet given at the Castle +To the Count Terzky and Field Marshal Illo. + +WALLENST. + +In honor of the victory--This tribe +Can show their joy in nothing else but feasting. + + [_Rings. The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _enters_.] + +Unrobe me. I will lay me down to sleep. + +[WALLENSTEIN _takes the keys from_ GORDON.] + +So we are guarded from all enemies, +And shut in with sure friends; +For all must cheat me, or a face like this + + [_Fixing his eye on_ GORDON.] + +Was ne'er a hypocrite's mask. + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _takes off his mantle, collar, +and scarf._] + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Take care--what is that? + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER. + +The golden chain is snapped in two. + +WALLENST. + +Well, it has lasted long enough. Here--give it. + + [_He takes and looks at the chain_.] + +'Twas the first present of the Emperor. +He hung it round me in the war of Friule, +He being then Archduke; and I have worn it +Till now from habit-- +From superstition, if you will. Belike, +It was to be a talisman to me; +And while I wore it on my neck in faith, +It was to chain to me all my life long +The volatile fortune, whose first pledge it was-- +Well, be it so! Henceforward a new fortune +Must spring up for me; for the potency +Of this charm is dissolved. + +[GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _retires with the vestments._ +WALLENSTEIN _rises, takes a stride across the room, and +stands at last before_ GORDON _in a posture of meditation_.] + +How the old time returns upon me! I +Behold myself once more at Burgau, where +We two were Pages of the Court together. +We oftentimes disputed: thy intention +Was ever good; but thou wert wont to play +The Moralist and Preacher, and wouldst rail at me-- +That I strove after things too high for me, +Giving my faith to bold unlawful dreams, +And still extol to me the golden mean-- +Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friend +To thy own self. See, it has made thee early +A superannuated man, and (but +That my munificent stars will intervene) +Would let thee in some miserable corner +Go out like an untended lamp. + +GORDON. + + My Prince! +With light heart the poor fisher moors his boat, +And watches from the shore the lofty ship +Stranded amid the storm. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Art thou already +In harbor then, old man? Well! I am not. +The unconquer'd spirit drives me o'er life's billows; +My planks still firm, my canvas swelling proudly. +Hope is my goddess still, and Youth my inmate; +And while we stand thus front to front almost +I might presume to say that the swift years +Have passed by powerless o'er my unblanched +hair. + +_[He moves with long strides across the Saloon, +and remains on the opposite side over +against_ GORDON.] + +Who now persists in calling Fortune false? +To me she has proved faithful; with fond love +Took me from out the common ranks of men, +And like a mother goddess, with strong arm +Carried me swiftly up the steps of life. +Nothing is common in my destiny, +Nor in the furrows of my hand. Who dares +Interpret then my life for me as 'twere +One of the undistinguishable many? +True, in this present moment I appear +Fallen low indeed; but I shall rise again. +The high flood will soon follow on this ebb; +The fountain of my fortune, which now stops +Repress'd and bound by some malicious star, +Will soon in joy play forth from all its pipes. + +GORDON. + +And yet remember I the good old proverb, +"Let the night come before we praise the day." +I would be slow from long-continued fortune +To gather hope: for Hope is the companion +Given to the unfortunate by pitying Heaven. +Fear hovers round the head of prosperous men; +For still unsteady are the scales of fate. + +WALLENSTEIN _(smiling_). + +I hear the very Gordon that of old +Was wont to preach, now once more preaching; +I know well that all sublunary things +Are still the vassals of vicissitude. +The unpropitious gods demand their tribute; +This long ago the ancient Pagans knew: +And therefore of their own accord they offer'd +To themselves injuries, so to atone +The jealousy of their divinities: +And human sacrifices bled to Typhon. + +[_After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner._] + +I too have sacrificed to him--For me +There fell the dearest friend, and through my fault +He fell! No joy from favorable fortune +Can overweight the anguish of this stroke. +The envy of my destiny is glutted +Life pays for life. On his pure head the lightning +Was drawn off which would else have shatter'd _me_. + + +SCENE V + + +_To these enter_ SENI + +WALLENST. + +Is not that Seni! and beside himself, +If one may trust his looks? What brings thee hither +At this late hour, Baptista? + +SENI. + + Terror, Duke! +On thy account. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now? + +SENI. + + Flee ere the day break! +Trust not thy person to the Swedes! + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What now +Is in thy thoughts? + +SENI (_with louder voice_). + +Trust not thy person to the Swedes. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + What is it, then? + +SENI (_still more urgently_). + +O wait not the arrival of these Swedes! +An evil near at hand is threatening thee +From false friends. All the signs stand full of horror! +Near, near at hand the net-work of perdition-- +Yea, even now 'tis being cast around thee! + +WALLENST. + +Baptista, thou art dreaming!--Fear befools thee. + +SENI. + +Believe not that an empty fear deludes me. +Come, read it in the planetary aspects; +Read it thyself that ruin threatens thee +From false friends. + +WALLENSTEIN. + + From the falseness of my friends +Has risen the whole of my unprosperous fortunes. +The warning should have come before! At present +I need no revelation from the stars +To know that. + +SENI. + + Come and see! trust thine own eyes! +A fearful sign stands in the house of life-- +An enemy; a fiend lurks close behind +The radiance of thy planet.--O be warn'd! +Deliver not up thyself to these heathens, +To wage a war against our holy church. + +WALLENSTEIN (_laughing gently_). + +The oracle rails that way! Yes, yes! Now +I recollect. This junction with the Swedes +Did never please thee--lay thyself to sleep, +Baptista! Signs like these I do not fear. + +GORDON (_who during the whole of this dialogue has shown +marks of extreme agitation, and now turns to_ WALLENSTEIN). + +My Duke and General! May I dare presume? + +WALLENST. + +Speak freely. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN WARNED BY HIS FRIENDS +As performed at the Municipal Theatre, Hamburg, 1906] + +GORDON. + + What if 'twere no mere creation +Of fear, if God's high providence vouchsafed +To interpose its aid for your deliverance, +And made that mouth its organ? + +WALLENSTEIN. + + Ye're both feverish! +How can mishap come to me from the Swedes! +They sought this junction with me--'tis their +interest. + +GORDON _(with difficulty suppressing his emotion)_. + +But what if the arrival of these Swedes-- +What if this were the very thing that wing'd +The ruin that is flying to your temples? + + [_Flings himself at his feet_.] + +There is yet time, my Prince. + +SENI. + +O hear him! hear him! + +GORDON _(rises)_. + +The Rhinegrave's still far off. Give but the orders, +This citadel shall close its gates upon him. +If then he will besiege us, let him try it. +But this I say; he'll find his own destruction +With his whole force before these ramparts, sooner +Than weary down the valor of our spirit. +He shall experience what a band of heroes, +Inspirited by an heroic leader, +Is able to perform. And if indeed +It be thy serious wish to make amend +For that which thou hast done amiss--this, this +Will touch and reconcile the Emperor, +Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy +And Friedland, who returns repentant to him, +Will stand yet higher in his Emperor's favor +Than e'er he stood when he had never fallen. + +WALLENSTEIN (_contemplates him with surprise, remains +awhile, betraying strong emotion_). + +Gordon--your zeal and fervor lead you far. +Well, well--an old friend has a privilege. +Blood, Gordon, has been flowing. Never, never +Can the Emperor pardon me; and if he could, +Yet I--I never could let myself be pardon'd. +Had I foreknown what now has taken place, +That he, my dearest friend, would fall for me +My first death-offering; and had the heart +Spoken to me, as now it has done--Gordon, +It may be, I might have bethought myself; +It may be too, I might not. Might or might not +Is now an idle question. All too seriously +Has it begun to end in nothing, Gordon! +Let it then have its course. + +[_Stepping to the window._] + +All dark and silent-at the castle too +All is now hush'd--Light me, Chamberlain! + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER, _who had entered during the +last dialogue, and had been standing at a distance and +listening to it with visible expressions of the deepest +interest, advances in extreme agitation, and throws himself +at the_ DUKE'S _feet._] + +And thou too! But I know why thou dost wish +My reconcilement with the Emperor. +Poor man! he hath a small estate in Carinthia, +And fears it will be forfeited because +He's in my service. Am I then so poor +That I no longer can indemnify +My servants? Well! to no one I employ +Means of compulsion. If 'tis thy belief +That fortune has fled from me, go! forsake me. +This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me, +And then go over to thy Emperor. +Gordon, good night! I think to make a long +Sleep of it: for the struggle and the turmoil +Of this last day or two was great. May't please you! +Take care that they awake me not too early. + +[_Exit_ WALLENSTEIN, _the_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _lighting +him_.SENI _follows_, GORDON _remains on the darkened stage, +following the_ DUKE _with his eye, till he disappears at the +farther end of the gallery: then by his gestures the old man +expresses the depth of his anguish and stands leaning +against a pillar._] + + +SCENE VI + + +GORDON, BUTLER (_at first behind the scenes_) + +BUTLER (_not yet come into view of the stage_). + +Here stand in silence till I give the signal. + +GORDON (_starts up_). + +'Tis he! he has already brought the murderers. + +BUTLER. + +The lights are out. All lies in profound sleep. + +GORDON. What shall I do? Shall I attempt to save him? +Shall I call up the house? alarm the guards? + +BUTLER (_appears, but scarcely on the stage_). + +A light gleams hither from the corridor. +It leads directly to the Duke's bed-chamber. + +GORDON. + +But then I break my oath to the Emperor; +If he escape and strengthen the enemy, +Do I not hereby call down on my head +All the dread consequences? + +BUTLER (_stepping forward_). + + Hark! Who speaks there? + +GORDON. + +'Tis better, I resign it to the hands +Of Providence. For what am I, that I +Should take upon myself so great a deed? +I have not murdered him, if he be murder'd; +But all his rescue were _my_ act and deed; +_Mine_--and whatever be the consequences, +I must sustain them. + +BUTLER (_advances_). + + I should know that voice. + +GORDON. + +Butler! + +BUTLER. + + 'Tis Gordon. What do _you_ want here? +Was it so late then, when the Duke dismiss'd you? + +GORDON. + +Your hand bound up and in a scarf? + +BUTLER. + + 'Tis wounded. +That Illo fought as he were frantic, till +At last we threw him on the ground. + +GORDON (_shuddering_). Both dead? + +BUTLER. + +Is he in bed? + +GORDON. + + Ah, Butler! + +BUTLER. + + Is he? speak. + +GORDON. + +He shall _not_ perish! Not through you! The Heaven +Refuses _your_ arm. See--'tis wounded!-- + +BUTLER. + +There is no need of my arm. + +GORDON. + + The most guilty +Have perish'd, and enough is given to justice. + +[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _advances from the Gallery with +his finger on his mouth commanding silence_.] + +GORDON. + +He sleeps! O murder not the holy sleep! + +BUTLER. + +No! he shall die awake. + + [_Is going_.] + +GORDON. + +His heart still cleaves +To earthly things: he's not prepared to step +Into the presence of his God! + +BUTLER (_going_). + + God's merciful! + +GORDON (_holds him_). + +Grant him but this night's respite. + +BUTLER (_hurrying off_) + + The next moment +May ruin all. + +GORDON _(holds him still_). + +One hour!-- + +BUTLER. Unhold me! What +Can that short respite profit him? + +[Illustration: DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN Karl von Piloty] + +GORDON. + + O--Time +Works miracles. In one hour many thousands +Of grains of sand run out; and quick as they, +Thought follows thought within the human soul. +Only one hour! _Your_ heart may change its purpose, +_His_ heart may change its purpose--some new tidings +May come; some fortunate event, decisive, +May fall from Heaven and rescue him. O what +May not one hour achieve! + +BUTLER. + +You but remind me, +How precious every minute is! + + [_He stamps on the floor._] + + +SCENE VII + + +_To these enter_ MACDONALD _and_ DEVEREUX, _with the_ +HALBERDIERS + +GORDON (_throwing himself between him and them_). + + No, monster! +First over my dead body thou shalt tread. +I will not live to see the accursed deed! + +BUTLER (_forcing him out of the way_). + +Weak-hearted dotard! + +[_Trumpets are heard in the distance_.] + +DEVEREUX _and_ MACDONALD. + +Hark! the Swedish trumpets! +The Swedes before the ramparts! Let us hasten! + +GORDON (_rushes out_). + + O, God of mercy! + +BUTLER (_calling after him_). + +Governor, to your post! + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER (_hurries in_). + +Who dares make larum here? Hush! The Duke +sleeps. + +DEVEREUX (_with loud harsh voice_). + +Friend, it is time now to make larum. + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER. + + Help! +Murder! + +BUTLER. + +Down with him! + +GROOM OF THE CHAMBER (_run through the body by_ DEVEREUX, +_falls at the entrance of the Gallery_). + + Jesus Maria! + +BUTLER. + +Burst the doors open. + +[_They rush over the body into the Gallery--two doors are +heard to crash one after the other.--Voices, deadened by the +distance--clash of arms--then all at once a profound +silence._] + + +SCENE VIII + + +COUNTESS TERZKY (_with a light_). + +Her bed-chamber is empty; she herself +Is nowhere to be found! The Neubrunn too, +Who watch'd by her, is missing. If she should +Be flown--but whither flown? We must call up +Every soul in the house. How will the Duke +Bear up against these worst bad tidings? O +If that my husband now were but return'd +Home from the banquet!--Hark! I wonder whether +The Duke is still awake! I thought I heard +Voices and tread of feet here! I will go +And listen at the door. Hark! what is that? +'Tis hastening up the steps! + + +SCENE IX + + +COUNTESS, GORDON + +GORDON (_rushes in out of breath_). + + 'Tis a mistake! +'Tis not the Swedes--Ye must proceed no further +Butler!--O God! where is he? + +GORDON (_observing the_ COUNTESS). + + Countess! Say-- + +COUNTESS. + +You are come then from the castle? Where's my husband? + +GORDON (_in an agony of affright)_. + +Your husband!--Ask not!--To the Duke-- + +COUNTESS. + + Not till +You have discover'd to me-- + +GORDON. + + On this moment +Does the world hang. For God's sake! to the Duke. +While we are speaking-- + +[_Calling loudly_.] + + Butler! Butler! God! + +COUNTESS. + +Why, he is at the castle with my husband. + +[BUTLER _comes from the Gallery_.] + +GORDON. + +'Twas a mistake--'Tis not the Swedes--it is +The Imperialists' Lieutenant-General +Has sent me hither--will be here himself +Instantly.--You must not proceed. + +BUTLER. + + He comes +Too late. + +[GORDON _dashes himself against the wall_.] + +GORDON. + +O God of mercy! + +COUNTESS. + + What too late? +Who will be here himself? Octavio +In Egra? Treason! Treason!--Where's the +Duke? + +[_She rushes to the Gallery._] + + +SCENE X + + +_Servants run across the Stage, full of terror. The whole +Scene must be spoken entirely without pauses_. + +SENI (_from the Gallery_). + +A bloody, frightful deed! + +COUNTESS. + + What is it, Seni? + +PAGE (_from the Gallery_). + +O piteous sight! + +[_Other servants hasten in with torches_.] + +COUNTESS. + +What is it? For God's sake! + +SENI. + + And do you ask? +Within, the Duke lies murder'd--and your husband +Assassinated at the Castle. + +[_The_ COUNTESS _stands motionless_.] + +FEMALE SERVANT (_rushing across the stage_). + + Help! help! the Duchess! + +BURGOMASTER (_enters_). + + What mean these confused +Loud cries that wake the sleepers of this house? + +GORDON. + +Your house is cursed to all eternity. +In your house doth the Duke lie murder'd! + +BURGOMASTER (_rushing out_). + + Heaven forbid! + +1ST SERV. + +Fly! fly! they murder us all! + +SECOND SERVANT (_carrying silver plate_). + + That way! the lower +Passages are block'd up. + +VOICE (_from behind the Scene_). + +Make room for the Lieutenant-General! + +[_At these words the_ COUNTESS _starts from her stupor, +collects herself, and retires suddenly_.] + +VOICE (_from behind the Scene_). + +Keep back the people! Guard the door! + + +SCENE XI + + +_To these enter_ OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI _with all his train. At +the same time_ DEVEREUX _and_ MACDONALD _enter from out the +Corridor with the Halberdiers_.--WALLENSTEIN'S _dead body is +carried over the back part of the stage, wrapped in a piece +of crimson tapestry_. + +OCTAVIO (_entering abruptly_). + +It must not be! It is not possible! +Butler! Gordon! +I'll not believe it. Say no! + +[GORDON, _without answering, points with his hand to the +body of_ WALLENSTEIN _as it is carried over the back of the +stage._ OCTAVIO _looks that way, and stands overpowered with +horror._] + +DEVEREUX (_to_ BUTLER). + +Here is the golden fleece--the Duke's Sword-- + +MACRON. + + Is it your order-- + +BUTLER (_pointing to_ OCTAVIO). + + Here stands he who now +Hath the sole power to issue orders. + +[DEVEREUx _and_ MACDONALD _retire with marks of obeisance. +One drops away after the other, till only_ BUTLER, OCTAVIO, +_and_ GORDON _remain on the stage.]_ + +OCTAVIO (_turning to_ BUTLER). + +Was that my purpose, Butler, when we parted? +O God of Justice! +To thee I lift my hand! I am not guilty +Of this foul deed. + +BUTLER. + +Your _hand_ is pure. You have +Avail'd yourself of mine. + +OCTAVIO. + + Merciless man! +Thus to abuse the orders of thy Lord-- +And stain thy Emperor's holy name with murder, +With bloody, most accursed assassination! + +BUTLER (_calmly_). + +I've but fulfilled the Emperor's own sentence. + +OCTAVIO. + +O curse of Kings, +Infusing a dread life into their words, +And linking to the sudden transient thought +The unchanging irrevocable deed. +Was there necessity for such an eager +Dispatch? Couldst thou not grant the merciful +A time for mercy? Time is man's good Angel. +To leave no interval between the sentence, +And the fulfilment of it, doth beseem +God only, the immutable! + +BUTLER. + + For what +Rail you against me? What is my offense? +The Empire from a fearful enemy +Have I deliver'd, and expect reward; +The single difference betwixt you and me +Is this: you placed the arrow in the bow: +I pull'd the string. You sow'd blood, and yet stand +Astonish'd that blood is come up. I always +Knew what I did, and therefore no result +Hath power to frighten or surprise my spirit. +Have you aught else to order; for this instant +I make my best speed to Vienna; place +My bleeding sword before my Emperor's throne, +And hope to gain the applause which undelaying +And punctual obedience may demand +From a just judge. + + [_Exit_ BUTLER.] + +SCENE XII + + +_To these enter the_ COUNTESS TERZKY, _pale and disordered. +Her utterance is slow and feeble, and unimpassioned_. + +OCTAVIO (_meeting her_). + +O, Countess Terzky! These are the results +Of luckless unblest deeds. + +COUNTESS. + + They are the fruits +Of your contrivances. The Duke is dead, +My husband too is dead, the Duchess struggles +In the pangs of death, my niece has disappear'd, +This house of splendor, and of princely glory, +Doth now stand desolated: the affrighted servants +Rush forth through all its doors. I am the last +Therein; I shut it up, and here deliver +The keys. + +OCTAVIO (_with a deep anguish_). + +O Countess! my house, too, is desolate. + +COUNTESS. + +Who next is to be murder'd? Who is next +To be maltreated? Lo! the Duke is dead, +The Emperor's vengeance may be pacified! +Spare the old servants; let not their fidelity +Be imputed to the faithful as a crime-- +The evil destiny surprised my brother +Too suddenly: he could not think on them. + +OCTAVIO. + +Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment! +The Emperor is appeased; the heavy fault +Hath heavily been expiated--nothing +Descended from the father to the daughter, +Except his glory and his services. +The Empress honors your adversity, +Takes part in your afflictions, opens to you +Her motherly arms! Therefore, no farther fears; +Yield yourself up in hope and confidence +To the Imperial Grace! + +COUNTESS. _(with her eye raised to heaven_). + +To the grace and mercy of a greater Master +Do I yield up myself. Where shall the body +Of the Duke have its place of final rest? +In the Chartreuse, which he himself did found +At Gitschin, rests the Countess Wallenstein; +And by her side, to whom he was indebted +For his first fortunes, gratefully he wish'd +He might sometime repose in death! O let him +Be buried there. And likewise, for my husband's +Remains, I ask the like grace. The Emperor +Is now the proprietor of all our castles. +This sure may well be granted us--one sepulchre +Beside the sepulchres of our forefathers! + +OCTAVIO. + +Countess, you tremble, you turn pale! + +COUNTESS _(re-assembles all her powers, and speaks with +energy and dignity)_. + + You think +More worthily of me than to believe +I would survive the downfall of my house. +We did not hold ourselves too mean to grasp +After a monarch's crown--the crown did fate +Deny, but not the feeling and the spirit +That to the crown belong! We deem a +Courageous death more worthy of our free station +Than a dishonor'd life.--I have taken poison. + +OCTAVIO. + +Help! Help! Support her! + +COUNTESS. + + Nay, it is too late, +In a few moments is my fate accomplish'd. + + [_Exit_ COUNTESS.] + +GORDON. + +O house of death and horrors! + +[_An_ OFFICER _enters, and brings a letter with the great +seal_. GORDON _steps forward and meets him._] + + What is this? +It is the Imperial Seal. + +[_He reads the address, and delivers the letter to_ OCTAVIO +_with a look of reproach, and with an emphasis on the +word._] + +To the _Prince_ Piccolomini. + +[OCTAVIO, _with his whole frame expressive of sudden +anguish, raises his eyes to heaven_.] + + [_The Curtain drops._] + + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 22: Thomas: The Life and Works of Schiller, p. 330.] + +[Footnote 23: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, London.] + +[Footnote 24: A great stone near Luetzen, since called the Swede's +Stone, the body of their great king having been found at the foot of +it, after the battle in which he lost his life.] + +[Footnote 25: Could I have hazarded such a Germanism as the use of the +word after-world, for posterity--"Es spreche Welt und _Nachwelt_ +meinen Namen" might have been rendered with more literal +fidelity:--Let world and after-world speak out my name, etc.] + +[Footnote 26: I have not ventured to affront the fastidious delicacy +of our age with a literal translation of this line, + + werth +Die Eingeweide schaudernd aufzureger.] + +[Footnote 27: Anspessade, in German Gefreiter, a soldier inferior to a +corporal, but above the sentinels. The German name implies that he is +exempt from mounting guard.] + +[Footnote 28: I have here ventured to omit a considerable number of +lines. I fear that I should not have done amiss, had I taken this +liberty more frequently. It is, however, incumbent on me to give the +original, with a literal translation. + + Weh denen, die auf Dich vertraun, an Dich + Die sichre Huette illres Glueckes lehnen, + Gelockt von deiner geistlichen Gestalt. + Schnell unverhofft, bei naechtlich stiller Weile + Gaehrts in dem tueckschen Feuerschlunde, ladet + Sich aus mit tobender Gewalt, und weg + Treibt ueber alle Pflanzungen der Menschen + Der Wilde Strom in grausender Zerstoerung. + + WALLENSTEIN. + + Du schilderst deines Vaters Herz. Wie Du's + Beschreibst, so ist's in seinem Eingeweide, + In dieser schwarzen Heuchlers Brust gestaltet. + O, mich hat Hoellenkunst getaeuscht! Mir sandte + Der Abgrund den verflecktesten der Geister, + Den Luegenkundigsten herauf, and stellt' ihn + Als Freund an meiner Seite. Wer vermag + Der Hoelle Macht zu widerstehn! Ich zog + Den Basilisken auf an meinem Busen, + Mit meinem Herzblut naehrt ich ihn, er sog + Sich schwelgend voll an meiner Liebe Bruesten, + Ich hatte nimmer Arges gegen ihn, + Weit offen liess ich des Gedankens Thore, + Und warf die Schluessel weiser Vorsicht weg, + Am Sternenhimmel, etc. + +LITERAL TRANSLATION + +Alas! for those who place their confidence on thee, against thee lean +the secure hut of their happiness, allured by thy hospitable form. +Suddenly, unexpectedly, in a moment still as night, there is a +fermentation in the treacherous gulf of fire; it discharges itself +with raging force, and away over all the plantations of men drives the +wild stream in frightful devastation.--WALLENSTEIN. Thou art +portraying thy father's heart; as thou describest, even so is it +shaped in his entrails, in this black hypocrite's breast. O, the art +of hell has deceived me! The Abyss sent up to me the most spotted of +the spirits, the most skilful in lies, and placed him as a friend by +my side. Who may withstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to +my bosom, with my heart's blood I nourished him; he sucked himself +glutfull at the breasts of my love. I never harbored evil toward him; +wide open did I leave the door of my thoughts; I threw away the key of +wise foresight. In the starry heaven, etc.--We find a difficulty in +believing this to have been written by Schiller.] + +[Footnote 29: + This is a poor and inadequate translation of the affectionate simplicity + of the original-- + + Sie alle waren Fremdlinge; _Du_ warst + Das Kind des Hauses. + +Indeed the whole speech is in the best style of Massinger. _O si sic +omnia!_] + +[Footnote 30: It appears that the account of his conversion being +caused by such a fall, and other stories of his juvenile character, +are not well authenticated.] + +[Footnote 31: We doubt the propriety of putting so blasphemous a +statement in the mouth of any character.--T.] + +[Footnote 32: This soliloquy, which, according to the former +arrangement; constituted the whole of Scene IX., and concluded the +Fourth Act, is omitted in all the printed German editions. It seems +probable that it existed in the original manuscript from which Mr. +Coleridge translated.--Ed.] + +[Footnote 33: The soliloquy of Thekla consists in the original of +six-and-twenty lines, twenty of which are in rhymes of irregular +recurrence. I thought it prudent to abridge it. Indeed the whole scene +between Thekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps have been omitted +without injury to the play.--C.] + +[Footnote 34: These four lines are expressed in the original with +exquisite felicity-- + + Am Himmel ist geschaeftige Bewegung. + Des Thurmes Fahne jagt der Wind, schnell geht + Der Wolken Zug, die _Mondessichel wankt_, + Und durch die Nacht zuckt ungewisse Helle. + +The word "moon-sickle," reminds me of a passage in Harris, as quoted +by Johnson, under the word "falcated." "The enlightened part of the +moon appears in the form of a sickle or reaping-hook, which is while +she is moving from the conjunction to the opposition, or from the new +moon to the full: but from full to a new again, the enlightened part +appears gibbous, and the dark _falcated_." + +The words "wanken" and "schweben" are not easily translated. The +English words, by which we attempt to render them, are either vulgar +or pedantic, or not of sufficiently general application. So "der +Wolken Zug"--literally, The Draft, the Procession of clouds; +freely--The Masses of the Clouds sweep onward in swift _stream_.] + +[Footnote 35: A very inadequate translation of the original-- + + Verschmerzen werd' ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich, + Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch! + + LITERALLY. + + I shall _grieve down_ this blow, of that I'm conscious: + What does not man grieve down?] + + * * * * * + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO WILLIAM TELL + +BY WILLIAM H. CARRUTH, PH.D. + +Professor of Comparative Literature, Leland Stanford University + + +William Tell is the last complete drama written by Schiller, finished +February 18, 1804, in the author's forty-fifth year and something over +a year before his death. After this he completed only a pageant, _The +Homage of the Arts_, although he was occupied with many plans for +other plays, including _Demetrius_, founded on the career of the +Russian pretender of this name, of which he left the first act. +_William Tell_ is the last of Schiller's five great dramas, a series +beginning with _Wallenstein_, written within nine years, constituting, +along with his ballads and many other poems, the work of what is +called his "third period." This period was preceded by Schiller's +chief prose works and the historical and philosophical studies +preparatory thereto, together with considerable reading of Greek and +English classics, notably Homer and Shakespeare. The influence of his +historical and critical studies and of this reading is evident in the +dramas: _Wallenstein, Maria Stuart, The Maid of Orleans, The Bride of +Messina, William Tell_. But of these, _William Tell_ stands apart in +several ways. + +For all of them Schiller made careful preliminary studies, but for +none in such detail as for _Tell_. He had not only a remote historical +material to deal with, but also a land and customs which he had never +seen and which nevertheless he wished to present with great fidelity. +His chief source was the Swiss chronicler Tschudi, of the sixteenth +century, from whom he took not only the main features of his action, +but many touches of scenery and much actual phraseology. In addition +he studied the Swiss historian Johannes von Mueller, maps and natural +histories of Switzerland, and received also some oral notes from +Goethe, to whom, in fact, he owed the original suggestion of +dramatizing the story of William Tell. + +Unlike the other dramas of Schiller's last period, _William Tell_ has +no plot in the technical dramatic sense. There is no snare of +circumstances laid which forces a hero, after vain attempts to elude +or unloose it, to tear his way out at the cost of more or less +innocent lives. We see the representatives of three small, +freedom-loving democracies pushed beyond endurance by the outrages of +tyranny, pledging mutual support in resisting these encroachments upon +their liberties, and carrying out a successful resistance, aided by +the wholly fortuitous assassination of the tyrannical emperor. We see, +as a single instance of these oppressions, the arrogant caprice of the +bailiff Gessler in demanding homage to the Austrian hat, his jealousy +of the freeman Tell expressed in imposing as a penalty for neglected +obeisance the shooting of an apple from his little son's head, the +successful meeting of this test, and in turn Tell's vengeance through +the exercise of this same prowess in shooting Gessler as he rides home +through the Hohle Gasse. Mingled with these elements we see the +patriotic support of the common people by a native noblewoman, Bertha +von Brunneck, and her successful effort to win to this cause, through +his love for her, the young Baron von Rudenz, whose uncle +Attinghausen, always loyal to his people, hears in dying the news of +his nephew's conversion, while with his last breath he prophesies the +triumph of liberty. These three threads are woven into a single +pattern through the element of the common cause. This is the unity of +the action, which many critics have found wanting in the play. +Moreover these three plans of action cooeperate, if not by deliberate +foresight, yet by coincidence of time and purpose, and in some measure +by common personages. + +The theme of _William Tell_ had been used as early as the sixteenth +century in one of the early popular pageants with which the modern +German drama begins. These pageants occupied the whole of several days +in presentation and employed, including all supernumeraries, as high +as three hundred people. Schiller knew the old Tell Play and imbibed +something of its spirit. He uses masses of populace in _William Tell_ +as in no other of his plays except the _Camp_ of the _Wallenstein_ +trilogy. It may be that the influence of the old popular play together +with the nature of his material led him to dispense here with the +unity of action, the plot, and the expression of tragic guilt, which +may be found in all his other later plays. + +Along with keen appreciation, such as A.W. Schlegel's comment: "Imbued +with the poetry of history, with a treatment true to nature and +genuine, and, considering the poet's unfamiliarity with the country, +astonishingly correct in local color," _William Tell_ met from the +first much adverse criticism. This applied first of all to the +looseness of connection already cited between the various elements of +the action, and further, to the supposed superfluousness of the +Parricide episode in the Fifth Act, to the alleged unnaturalness of +Tell's long speeches and to the ignoble nature of his assault upon +Gessler from ambush. The last was given the poet in the legend of +Tell, which in general he took over with pious reverence as authentic +history. The Parricide episode was introduced, partly because it was +actually there in history and helped to complete the victory of the +peasants' cause, partly in order to give a better color to Tell's own +act, as being less prompted by selfish considerations. The criticism +of Tell's speeches, whether his pithy, epigrammatic sentences in Act +I, Scenes 1 and 3, and elsewhere, or his long monologue in Act IV, +Scene 3, applies to the whole constitution of the conventional stage +with just as much validity against Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_ and +_Hamlet_ as against _William Tell_. True, it is not plausible that +Tell recited 100 lines of beautiful poetry while lying in wait for +Gessler; neither is it likely that Prince Hamlet talked to himself in +pentameters. + +In general this play is more objective than Schiller's other plays, +and this was a quality which he admired in Goethe's work and strove +for in his own. Despite the technical criticisms, we find that the +play is filled with beautiful descriptions and noble sentiments nobly +expressed. On the stage most of the scenes are exceedingly fascinating +and effective. These beauties are quite sufficient to hide the lack of +unity, and the total effect with the majority of the people is a high +esthetic and ethical gratification. The play has remained one of the +most popular pieces on the German stage and has had an incalculable +effect in the cultivation of national feeling. + + * * * * * + + + +WILLIAM TELL + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + +HERMANN GESSLER, _Governor of Schwytz and Uri_. + +WERNER, _Baron of Attinghausen, free noble of Switzerland_. + +ULRICH VON RUDENZ, _his Nephew_. + +WERNER STAUFFACHER, } +CONRAD HUNN, } +HANS AUF DER MAUER, } +JORG IM HOFE, } _People of Schwytz_. +ULRICH DER SCHMIDT, } +JOST VON WEILER, } +ITEL REDING, } + +WALTER FUeRST, +WILLIAM TELL, } +ROeSSELMANN, _the Priest_,} +PETERMANN, _Sacristan_, } _of Uri_. +KUONI, _Herdsman_, } +WERNI, _Huntsman_, } +RUODI, _Fisherman_, } + +ARNOLD OF MELCHTHAL, +CONRAD BAUMGARTEN, } +MEYER VON SARNEN, } +STRUTH VON WINKELRIED, } _of Unterwald_. +KLAUS VON DER FLUE, } +BURKHART AM BUHEL, } +ARNOLD VON SEWA, } + +PFEIFFER OF LUCERNE. + +KUNZ OF GERSAU. + +JENNI, _Fisherman's son_. + +SEPPI, _Herdsman's son_. + +GERTRUDE, _Stauffacher's wife_. + +HEDWIG, _wife of Tell, daughter of Fuerst_. + +BERTHA OF BRUNECK, _a rich heiress_. + +ARMGART, } +MECHTHILD, } +ELSBETH, } _Peasant women_. +HILDEGARD, } + +WALTER, } _Tell's Sons_. +WILLIAM, } + +FRIESSHARDT, } _Soldiers_. +LEUTHOLD, } + +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, _Gessler's master of the horse_. + +JOHANNES PARRICIDA, _Duke of Suabia_. + +STUSSI, _Overseer_. + +THE MAYOR OF URI. + +A COURIER. + +MASTER STONEMASON, COMPANION AND WORKMEN. + +TASKMASTER. + +A CRIER. + +MONKS OF THE ORDER OF CHARITY. + +HORSEMEN OF GESSLER AND LANDENDERG. + +MANY PEASANTS; MEN AND WOMEN FROM THE WALDSTETTEN. + + +WILLIAM TELL (1804)[36] + +TRANSLATED BY SIR THEODORE MARTIN, K.C.B, LL.D. + + + +ACT I + +SCENE I + +_A high rocky shore of the lake of Lucerne opposite Schwytz. +The lake makes a bend into the land; a hut stands at a short +distance from the shore; the fisher boy is rowing about in +his boat. Beyond the lake are seen the green meadows, the +hamlets and farms of Schwytz, lying in the clear sunshine. +On the left are observed the peaks of the Hacken, surrounded +with clouds; to the right, and in the remote distance, +appear the Glaciers. The Ranz des Vaches, and the tinkling +of cattle bells, continue for some time after the rising of +the curtain._ + + +FISHER BOY (_sings in his boat_) +_Melody of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + The smile-dimpled lake woo'd to bathe in its deep, + A boy on its green shore had laid him to sleep; + Then heard he a melody + Floating along, + Sweet as the notes + Of an angel's song. + And as thrilling with pleasure he wakes from his rest, + The waters are rippling over his breast; + And a voice from the deep cries, + "With me thou must go, + I charm the young shepherd, + I lure him below." + + HERDSMAN (_on the mountains_) + _Air--Variation of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + Farewell, ye green meadows, + Farewell, sunny shore, + The herdsman must leave you, + The summer is o'er. + We go to the hills, but you'll see us again, + When the cuckoo calls, and the merry birds sing, + When the flowers bloom afresh in glade and in glen, + And the brooks sparkle bright in the sunshine of Spring. + Farewell, ye green meadows, + Farewell, sunny shore, + The herdsman must leave you, + The summer is o'er. + + CHAMOIS HUNTER (_appearing on the top of a cliff_) + _Second Variation of the Ranz des Vaches_ + + On the heights peals the thunder, and trembles the bridge, + The huntsman bounds on by the dizzying ridge. + Undaunted he hies him + O'er ice-covered wild, + Where leaf never budded, + Nor Spring ever smiled; + And beneath him an ocean of mist, where his eye + No longer the dwellings of man can espy; + Through the parting clouds only + The earth can be seen; + Far down 'neath the vapor + The meadows of green. + +[_A change comes over the landscape. A rumbling, cracking +noise is heard among the mountains. Shadows of clouds sweep +across the scene_.] + +[RUODI, _the fisherman, comes out of his cottage_. WERNI, +_the huntsman, descends from the rocks_. KUONI, _the +shepherd, enters, with a milkpail on his shoulders, +followed by_ SEPPI, _his assistant_.] + +RUODI. + +Come, Jenni, bustle, get the boat on shore. +The grizzly Vale-King[37] comes, the Glaciers moan, +The Mytenstein[38] is drawing on his hood, +And from the Stormcleft chilly blows the wind; +The storm will burst, before we know what's what. + +KUONI. + +'Twill rain ere long; my sheep browse eagerly, +And Watcher there is scraping up the earth. + +WERNI. + +The fish are leaping, and the water-hen +Keeps diving up and down. A storm is brewing. + +KUONI. (_to his boy_). + +Look, Seppi, if the beasts be all in sight. + +SEPPI. + +There goes brown Liesel, I can hear her bells. + +KUONI. + +Then all are safe; she ever ranges farthest. + +RUODI. + +You've a fine chime of bells there, master herdsman. + +WERNI. + +And likely cattle, too. Are they your own? + +KUONI. + +I'm not so rich. They are the noble lord's +Of Attinghaus, and told off to my care. + +RUODI. + +How gracefully yon heifer bears her ribbon! + +KUONI. + +Ay, well she knows she's leader of the herd, +And, take it from her, she'd refuse to feed. + +RUODI. + +You're joking now. A beast devoid of reason-- + +WERNI. + +Easily said. But beasts have reason, too-- +And that we know, we chamois-hunters, well. +They never turn to feed--sagacious creatures! +Till they have placed a sentinel ahead, +Who pricks his ears whenever we approach, +And gives alarm with clear and piercing pipe. + +RUODI. (_to the shepherd_). + +Are you for home? + +KUONI. + + The Alp is grazed quite bare. + +WERNI. + +A safe return, my friend! + +KUONI. + + The same to you! +Men come not always back from tracks like yours. + +RUODI. + +But who comes here, running at topmost speed? + +WERNI. + +I know the man; 'tis Baumgart of Alzellen. + +KONRAD BAUMGARTEN (_rushing in breathless_). + +For God's sake, ferryman, your boat! + +RUODI. + + How now? +Why all this haste? + +BAUM. + + Cast off! My life's at stake! +Set me across! + +KUONI. + + Why, what's the matter, friend? + +WERNI. + +Who are pursuing you? First tell us that. + +BAUM. (_to the fisherman_). + +Quick, quick, man, quick! they're close upon my heels! +It is the Viceroy's men are after me; +If they should overtake me, I am lost. + +RUODI. + +Why are the troopers in pursuit of you? + +BAUM. + +First make me safe and then I'll tell you all. + +WERNI. + +There's blood upon your garments--how is, this? + +BAUM. + +The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg-- + +KUONI. + +How! What! The Wolfshot?[39] Is it he pursues you? + +BAUM. + +He'll ne'er hurt man again; I've settled him. + +ALL (_starting back_). + +Now, God forgive you, what is this you've done! + +BAUM. + +What every free man in my place had done. +Mine own good household right I have enforced +'Gainst him that would have wrong'd my wife--my honor. + +KUONI. + +How! Wronged you in your honor, did he so? + +BAUM. + +That he did not fulfil his foul desire, +Is due to God and to my trusty axe. + +WERNI. + +And you have cleft his skull then, with your axe? + +KUONI. + +O, tell us all! You've time enough, and more, +While he is getting out the boat there from the beach. + +BAUM. + +When I was in the forest felling timber, +My wife came running out in mortal fear. +"The Seneschal," she said, "was in my house, +Had order'd her to get a bath prepared, +And thereupon had ta'en unseemly freedoms, +From which she rid herself, and flew to me." +Arm'd as I was, I sought him, and my axe +Has given his bath a bloody benison. + +WERNI. + +And you did well; no man can blame the deed. + +KUONi. + +The tyrant! Now he has his just reward! +We men of Unterwald have owed it long. + +BAUM. + +The deed got wind, and now they're in pursuit. +Heavens! whilst we speak, the time is flying fast. + + [_It begins to thunder_.] + +KUONI. + +Quick, ferryman, and set the good man over. + +RUODI. + +Impossible! a storm is close at hand, +Wait till it pass! You must. + +BAUM. + + Almighty heavens! +I cannot wait; the least delay is death. + +KUONI (_to the fisherman_). + +Push out--God with you! We should help our neighbors; +The like misfortune may betide us all. + + [_Thunder and the roaring of the wind_.] + +RUODI. + +The south wind's up![40] See how the lake is rising! +I cannot steer against both wind and wave. + +BAUM. (_clasping him by the knees_). + +God so help you as now you pity me! + +WERNI. + +His life's at stake. Have pity on him, man! + +KUONI. + + He is a father: has a wife and children. + + [_Repeated peals of thunder_.] + +RUODI. + +What! and have I not, then, a life to lose, +A wife and child at home as well as he? +See how the breakers foam, and toss, and whirl, +And the lake eddies up from all its depths! +Right gladly would I save the worthy man, +But 'tis impossible, as you must see. + +BAUM. (_still kneeling_). + +Then must I fall into the tyrant's hands, +And with the shore of safety close in sight! +Yonder it lies! My eyes can see it clear, +My very voice can echo to its shores. +There is the boat to carry me across, +Yet must I lie here helpless and forlorn. + +KUONI. + +Look! who comes here? + +RUODI. + + 'Tis Tell, ay, Tell, of Buerglen.[41] + + [_Enter_ TELL _with a crossbow_.] + +TELL. + +What man is he that here implores for aid? + +KUONI. + +He is from Alzellen, and to guard his honor +From touch of foulest shame, has slain the Wolf-shot, +The Imperial Seneschal, who dwelt at Rossberg. +The Viceroy's troopers are upon his heels; +He begs the ferryman to take him over, +But frightened at the storm he says he won't. + +RUODI. + +Well, there is Tell can steer as well as I, +He'll be my judge, if it be possible. + +[_Violent peals of thunder--the lake becomes more +tempestuous_.] + +Am I to plunge into the jaws of hell? +I should be mad to dare the desperate act. + +TELL. + +The brave man thinks upon himself the last. +Put trust in God, and help him in his need! + +RUODI. + +Safe in the port, 'tis easy to advise. +There is the boat, and there the lake! Try you! + +TELL. + +The lake may pity, but the Viceroy never. +Come, risk it, man! + +SHEPHERD _and_ HUNTSMAN. + + O save him! save him! save him! + +RUODI. + + Though 'twere my brother, or my darling child, +I would not go. 'Tis Simon and Jude's day; +The lake is up, and calling for its victim. + +TELL. + +Nought's to be done with idle talking here. +Each moment's precious; the man must be help'd; +Say, boatman, will you venture? + +RUODI. + + No; not I. + +TELL. + +In God's name, then, give me the boat! I will, +With my poor strength, see what is to be done! + +KUONI. + +Ha, gallant Tell! + +WERNI. + + That's like a huntsman true. + +BAUM. + +You are my angel, my preserver, Tell. + +TELL. + +I may preserve you from the Viceroy's power, +But from the tempest's rage another must. +Yet better 'tis you fall into God's hands, +Than into those of men. + + [_To the herdsman_.] + + Herdsman, do thou +Console my wife if I should come to grief. +I could not choose but do as I have done. + + [_He leaps into the boat_.] + +KUONI (_to the fisherman_). + +A pretty man to keep a ferry, truly! +What Tell could risk, you dared not venture on. + +RUODI. + +Far better men would never cope with Tell. +There's no two such as he 'mong all our hills. + +WERNI (_who has ascended a rock_). + +Now he is off. God help thee, gallant sailor! +Look how the little boat reels on the waves! + +KUONI. (_on the shore_). + +There! they have swept clean over it. And now +'Tis out of sight. Yet stay, there 'tis again! +Stoutly he stems the breakers, noble fellow! + +SEPPI. + +Here come the troopers hard as they can ride! + +KUONI. + +Heavens! so they do! Why, that was help, indeed. + + [_Enter a troop of horsemen_.] + +1ST H. + +Give up the murderer! You have him here! + +2D H. + +This way he came! 'Tis useless to conceal him! + +RUODI _and_ KUONI. + +Whom do you mean? + +1ST H. (_discovering the boat_). + + The devil! What do I see? + +WERNI (_from above_). + +Is't he in yonder boat ye seek? Ride on, +If you lay to, you may o'ertake him yet. + +2D H. + +Curse on you, he's escaped! + +1ST H. (_to the shepherd and fisherman_). + + You help'd him off, +And you shall pay for it! Fall on their herds! +Down with the cottage! burn it! beat it down! + + [_They rush off._] + +SEPPI (_hurrying after them_). + +Oh my poor lambs! + +KUONI (_following him_). + +Unhappy me, my herds! + +WERNI. + +The tyrants! + +RUODI (_wringing his hands_). + Righteous Heaven! Oh, when will come +Deliverance to this doom-devoted land? + + [_Exeunt severally_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_A lime tree in front of_ STAUFFACHER's _house at Steinen, +in Schwytz, upon the public road, near a bridge_. + +WERNER STAUFFACHER, _and_ PFEIFFER, _of Lucerne, enter into +conversation_. + +PFEIFF. + +Ay, ay, friend Stauffacher, as I have said, +Swear not to Austria, if you can help it. +Hold by the Empire stoutly as of yore, +And God preserve you in your ancient freedom! + + [_Presses his hand warmly and is going_.] + +STAUFF. + +Wait till my mistress comes. Now do! You are +My guest in Schwytz--I in Lucerne am yours. + +PFEIFF. + +Thanks! thanks! But I must reach Gersau today. +Whatever grievances your rulers' pride +And grasping avarice may yet inflict, +Bear them in patience--soon a change may come. +Another Emperor may mount the throne. +But Austria's once, and you are hers forever. + + [_Exit_.] + +[STAUFFACHER _sits down sorrowfully upon a bench under the +lime tree. Gertrude, his wife, enters, and finds him in this +posture. She places herself near him, and looks at him for +some time in silence_.] + +GERT. + +So sad, my love! I scarcely know thee now. +For many a day in silence I have mark'd +A moody sorrow furrowing thy brow. +Some silent grief is weighing on thy heart. +Trust it to me. I am thy faithful wife, +And I demand my half of all thy cares. + + [STAUFFACHER _gives her his hand and is silent_.] + +Tell me what can oppress thy spirits thus? +Thy toil is blest--the world goes well with thee-- +Our barns are full--our cattle, many a score; +Our handsome team of well-fed horses, too, +Brought from the mountain pastures safely home, +To winter in their comfortable stalls. +There stands thy house--no nobleman's more fair! +'Tis newly built with timber of the best, +All grooved and fitted with the nicest skill; +Its many glistening windows tell of comfort! +'Tis quarter'd o'er with scutcheons of all hues, +And proverbs sage, which passing travelers +Linger to read and ponder o'er their meaning. + +STAUFF. + +The house is strongly built, and handsomely, +But, ah! the ground on which we built it quakes. + +GERT. + +Tell me, dear Werner, what you mean by that? + +STAUFF. + +No later gone than yesterday, I sat +Beneath this linden, thinking with delight, +How fairly all was finished, when from Kuessnacht +The Viceroy and his men came riding by. +Before this house he halted in surprise: +At once I rose, and, as beseemed his rank, +Advanced respectfully to greet the lord +To whom the Emperor delegates his power, +As judge supreme within our Canton here. +"Who is the owner of this house?" he asked, +With mischief in his thoughts, for well he knew. +With prompt decision, thus I answered him: +"The Emperor, your grace--my lord and yours, +And held by me in fief." On this he answered, +"I am the Emperor's vice-regent here, +And will not that each peasant churl should build +At his own pleasure, bearing him as freely +As though he were the master in the land. +I shall make bold to put a stop to this!" +So saying, he, with menaces, rode off, +And left me musing with a heavy heart +On the fell purpose that his words betray'd. + +GERT. + +My own dear lord and husband! Wilt thou take +A word of honest counsel from thy wife? +I boast to be the noble Iberg's child, +A man of wide experience. Many a time, +As we sat spinning in the winter nights, +My sisters and myself, the people's chiefs +Were wont to gather round our father's hearth, +To read the old imperial charters, and +To hold sage converse on the country's weal. +Then heedfully I listened, marking well +What now the wise man thought, the good man wished, +And garner'd up their wisdom in my heart. +Hear then, and mark me well; for thou wilt see, +I long have known the grief that weighs thee down. +The Viceroy hates thee, fain would injure thee, +For thou past cross'd his wish to bend the Swiss +In homage to this upstart house of princes, +And kept them staunch, like their good sires of old, +In true allegiance to the Empire. Say, +Is't not so, Werner? Tell me, am I wrong? + +STAUFF. + +'Tis even so. For this doth Gessler hate me. + +GERT. + +He burns with envy, too, to see thee living +Happy and free on thine ancestral soil, +For he is landless. From the Emperor's self +Thou hold'st in fief the lands thy fathers left thee. +There's not a prince i' the Empire that can show +A better title to his heritage; +For thou hast over thee no lord but one, +And he the mightiest of all Christian kings. +Gessler, we know, is but a younger son, +His only wealth the knightly cloak he wears; +He therefore views an honest man's good fortune +With a malignant and a jealous eye. +Long has he sworn to compass thy destruction. +As yet thou art uninjured. Wilt thou wait +Till he may safely give his malice vent? +A wise man would anticipate the blow. + +STAUFF. + +What's to be done? + +[Illustration: STAUFFACHER AND HIS WIFE GERTRUDE As +performed at the Royal Theatre, Dresden, 1906.] + +GERT. + + Now hear what I advise. +Thou knowest well, how here with us in Schwytz +All worthy men are groaning underneath +This Gessler's grasping, grinding tyranny. +Doubt not the men of Unterwald as well, +And Uri, too, are chafing like ourselves, +At this oppressive and heart-wearying yoke. +For there, across the lake, the Landenberg +Wields the same iron rule as Gessler here-- +No fishing-boat comes over to our side, +But brings the tidings of some new encroachment, +Some fresh outrage, more grievous than the last. +Then it were well that some of you--true men-- +Men sound at heart, should secretly devise, +How best to shake this hateful thraldom off. +Full sure I am that God would not desert you, +But lend His favor to the righteous cause. +Hast thou no friend in Uri, one to whom +Thou frankly may'st unbosom all thy thoughts? + +STAUFF. + +I know full many a gallant fellow there, +And nobles, too--great men, of high repute, +In whom I can repose unbounded trust. + + [_Rising_.] + +Wife! What a storm of wild and perilous thoughts +Hast thou stirr'd up within my tranquil breast! +The darkest musings of my bosom thou +Hast dragg'd to light, and placed them full before me; +And what I scarce dared harbor e'en in thought, +Thou speakest plainly out with fearless tongue. +But has thou weigh'd well what thou urgest thus? +Discord will come, and the fierce clang of arms, +To scare this valley's long unbroken peace, +If we, a feeble shepherd race, shall dare +Him to the fight that lords it o'er the world. +Ev'n now they only wait some fair pretext +For setting loose their savage warrior hordes, +To scourge and ravage this devoted land, +To lord it o'er us with the victor's rights, +And, 'neath the show of lawful chastisement, +Despoil us of our chartered liberties. + +GERT. + +You, too, are men; can wield a battle axe +As well as they. God ne'er deserts the brave. + +STAUFF. + +Oh wife! a horrid, ruthless fiend is war, +That smites at once the shepherd and his flock. + +GERT. + + Whate'er great Heaven inflicts, we must endure; +But wrong is what no noble heart will bear. + +STAUFF. + +This house--thy pride--war, unrelenting war +Will burn it down. + +GERT. + + And did I think this heart +Enslaved and fettered to the things of earth, +With my own hand I'd hurl the kindling torch. + +STAUFF. + +Thou hast faith in human kindness, wife; but war +Spares not the tender infant in its cradle. + +GERT. + +There is a Friend to innocence in heaven. +Send your gaze forward, Werner--not behind. + +STAUFF. + +We men may die like men, with sword in hand; +But oh, what fate, my Gertrude, may be thine? + +GERT. + +None are so weak, but one last choice is left. +A spring from yonder bridge and I am free! + +STAUFF. (_embracing her_). + +Well may he fight for hearth and home, that clasps +A heart so rare as thine against his own! +What are the host of Emperors to him? +Gertrude, farewell! I will to Uri straight. +There lives my worthy comrade, Walter Fuerst; +His thoughts and mine upon these times are one. +There, too, resides the noble Banneret +Of Attinghaus. High though of blood he be, +He loves the people, honors their old customs. +With both of these I will take counsel how +To rid us bravely of our country's foe. +Farewell! and while I am away, bear thou +A watchful eye in management at home. +The pilgrim journeying to the house of God, +And holy friar, collecting for his cloister, +To these give liberally from purse and garner. +Stauffacher's house would not be hid. Right out +Upon the public way it stands, and offers +To all that pass a hospitable roof. + +[_While they are retiring_, TELL _enters with_ BAUMGARTEN.] + +TELL. + +Now, then, you have no further need of me. +Enter yon house. 'Tis Werner Stauffacher's, +A man that is a father to distress. +See, there he is, himself! Come, follow me. + + [_They retire up. Scene changes_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_A common near Altdorf. On an eminence in the background a +Castle in progress of erection, and so far advanced that the +outline of the whole may be distinguished. The back part is +finished: men are working at the front. Scaffolding, on +which the workmen are going up and down. A slater is seen +upon the highest part of the roof. All is bustle and +activity._ + +TASKMASTER, MASON, WORKMAN _and_ LABORERS + +TASK. (_with a stick, urging on the workmen_). + +Up, up! You've rested long enough. To work! +The stones here! Now the mortar, and the lime! +And let his lordship see the work advanced, +When next he comes. These fellows crawl like snails! + + [_To two laborers, with loads_.] + +What! call ye that a load? Go, double it. +Is this the way ye earn your wages, laggards? + +1ST. W. + +'Tis very hard that we must bear the stones, +To make a keep and dungeon for ourselves! + +TASK. + +What's that you mutter? 'Tis a worthless race, +For nothing fit but just to milk their cows, +And saunter idly up and down the hills. + +OLD MAN (_sinks down exhausted_). + +I can no more. + +TASK. (_shaking him_). + + Up, up, old man, to work! + +1ST. W. + +Have you no bowels of compassion, thus +To press so hard upon a poor old man +That scarce can drag his feeble limbs along? + +MASTER MASON _and_ WORKMEN. + +Shame, shame upon you--shame! It cries to heaven. + +TASK. + +Mind your own business. I but do my duty. + +1ST W. + +Pray, Master, what's to be the name of this +Same castle, when 'tis built? + +TASK. + + The Keep of Uri; +For by it we shall keep you in subjection. + +WORK. + +The Keep of Uri? + +TASK. + + Well, why laugh at that? + +2D W. + +Keep Uri, will you, with this paltry place! + +1ST W. + +How many molehills such as that must first +Be piled up each on each, ere you make +A mountain equal to the least in Uri? + + [TASKMASTER _retires up the stage_.] + +MAS. M. + +I'll drown the mallet in the deepest lake, +That served my hand on this accursed pile. + + [_Enter_ TELL _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +STAUFF. + +O, that I had not lived to see this sight! + +TELL. + +Here 'tis not good to be. Let us proceed. + +STAUFF. + +Am I in Uri--Uri, freedom's home? + +MAS. M. + +O, Sir, if you could only see the vaults +Beneath these towers. The man that tenants them +Will ne'er hear cock crow more. + +STAUFF. + + O God! O God! + +MASON. + +Look at these ramparts and these buttresses, +That seem as they were built to last forever. + +TELL. + +What hands have built, my friend, hands can destroy. + + [_Pointing to the mountains_.] + +_That_ home of freedom God hath built for us. + +[_A drum is heard. People enter bearing a cap upon a pole, +followed by a crier. Women and children thronging +tumultuously after them_.] + +1ST W. + +What means the drum? Give heed! + +MASON. + + Why, here's a mumming! +And look, the cap--what can they mean by that? + +CRIER. + +In the Emperor's name, give ear! + +WORK. + + Hush! silence! hush! + +CRIER. + +Ye men of Uri, ye do see this cap! +It will be set upon a lofty pole +In Altdorf, in the market place: and this +Is the Lord Governor's good will and pleasure; +The cap shall have like honor as himself, +All do it reverence with bended knee, +And head uncovered; thus the King will know +Who are his true and loyal subjects here; +His life and goods are forfeit to the crown +That shall refuse obedience to the order. + +[_The people burst out into laughter. The drum beats and the +procession passes on_.] + +1ST W. + +A strange device to fall upon indeed: +Do reverence to a cap! A pretty farce! +Heard ever mortal anything like this? + +MAS. M. + +Down to a cap on bended knee, forsooth! +Rare jesting this with men of sober sense! + +1ST W. + +Nay, an it were the imperial crown! A cap! +Merely the cap of Austria! I've seen it +Hanging above the throne in Gessler's hall. + +MASON. + +The cap of Austria? Mark that! A snare +To get us into Austria's power, by Heaven! + +WORK. + +No freeborn man will stoop to such disgrace. + +MAS. M. + +Come--to our comrades, and advise with them; + + [_They retire up_.] + +TELL (_to_ STAUFFACHER). + +You see how matters stand! Farewell, my friend! + +STAUFF. + +Whither away? Oh, leave us not so soon. + +TELL. + +They look for me at home. So fare ye well. + +STAUFF. + +My heart's so full, and has so much to tell you. + +TELL. + +Words will not make a heart that's heavy light. + +STAUFF. + +Yet words may possibly conduct to deeds. + +TELL. + +Endure in silence! We can do no more. + +STAUFF. + +But shall we bear what is not to be borne? + +TELL. + +Impetuous rulers have the shortest reigns. +When the fierce south wind rises from his chasms, +Men cover up their fires, the ships in haste +Make for the harbor, and the mighty spirit +Sweeps o'er the earth, and leaves no trace behind. +Let every man live quietly at home; +Peace to the peaceful rarely is denied. + +STAUFF. + +And is it thus you view our grievances? + +TELL. + +The serpent stings not till it is provoked; +Let them alone; they'll weary of themselves, +When they shall see we are not to be roused. + +STAUFF. + +Much might be done--did we stand fast together. + +TELL. + +When the ship founders, he will best escape +Who seeks no other's safety but his own. + +STAUFF. + +And you desert the common cause so coldly? + +TELL. + +A man can safely count but on himself! + +STAUFF. + + Nay, even the weak grow strong by union. + +TELL. + +But the strong man is strongest when alone. + +STAUFF. + +So, then, your country cannot count on you, +If in despair she rise against her foes. + +TELL. + +Tell rescues the lost sheep from yawning gulfs: +Is he a man, then, to desert his friends? +Yet, whatsoe'er you do, spare me from council! +I was not born to ponder and select; +But when your course of action is resolved, +Then call on Tell: you shall not find him fail. + +[_Exeunt severally. A sudden tumult is heard around the +scaffolding_.] + +MASON (_running in_). + +What's wrong? + +FIRST WORKMAN (_running forward_). + + The slater's fallen from the roof. + +BERTHA (_rushing in_). + +Heavens! Is he dashed to pieces? Save him, help! +If help be possible, save him! Here is gold. + + [_Throws her trinkets among the people_.] + +MASON. + +Hence with your gold--your universal charm, +And remedy for ill! When you have torn +Fathers from children, husbands from their wives, +And scattered woe and wail throughout the land, +You think with gold to compensate for all. +Hence! Till we saw you, we were happy men; +With you came misery and dark despair. + +BERTHA (_to the_ TASKMASTER, _who has returned_). + +Lives he? + + [TASKMASTER _shakes his head_.] + + Ill-omened towers, with curses built, +And doomed with curses to be tenanted! + + [_Exit_.] + + +SCENE IV + +_The house of_ WALTER FUeRST. WALTER FUeRST _and_ ARNOLD VON +MELCHTHAL _enter simultaneously at different sides_. + +MELCH. + +Good Walter Fuerst + +FUeRST. + + If we should be surprised! +Stay where you are. We are beset with spies. + +MELCH. + +Have you no news for me from Unterwald? +What of my father? 'Tis not to be borne +Thus to be pent up like a felon here! +What have I done so heinous that I must +Skulk here in hiding, like a murderer? +I only laid my staff across the fists +Of the pert varlet, when before my eyes, +By order of the governor, he tried +To drive away my handsome team of oxen. + +FUeRST. + +You are too rash by far. He did no more +Than what the governor had ordered him. +You had transgress'd, and therefore should have paid +The penalty, however hard, in silence. + +MELCH. + +Was I to brook the fellow's saucy gibe-- +"That if the peasant must have bread to eat, +Why, let him go and draw the plough himself?" +It cut me to the very soul to see +My oxen, noble creatures, when the knave +Unyoked them from the plough. As though they felt +The wrong, they lowed and butted with their horns. +On this I could contain myself no longer, +And, overcome by passion, struck him down. + +FUeRST. + +O, we old men can scarce command ourselves! +And can we wonder youth breaks out of bounds? + +MELCH. + +I'm only sorry for my father's sake! +To be away from him, that needs so much +My fostering care! The governor detests him, +Because, whene'er occasion served, he has +Stood stoutly up for right and liberty. +Therefore they'll bear him hard--the poor old man! +And there is none to shield him from their grip. +Come what come may, I must go home again. + +FUeRST. + +Compose yourself, and wait in patience till +We get some tidings o'er from Unterwald. +Away I away! I hear a knock! Perhaps +A message from the Viceroy! Get thee in! +You are not safe from Landenberger's[42] arm +In Uri, for these tyrants pull together. + +MELCH. + +They teach us Switzers what _we_ ought to do. + +FUeRST. + +Away! I'll call you when the coast is clear. + + [MELCHTHAL _retires_.] + +Unhappy youth! I dare not tell him all +The evil that my boding heart predicts! +Who's there? The door ne'er opens, but I look +For tidings of mishap. Suspicion lurks +With darkling treachery in every nook. +Even to our inmost rooms they force their way, +These myrmidons of power; and soon we'll need +To fasten bolts and bars upon our doors. + +[_He opens the door, and steps back in surprise as_ WERNER +STAUFFACHER _enters_.] + +What do I see? You, Werner? Now, by Heaven! +A valued guest, indeed. No man e'er set +His foot across this threshold, more esteem'd, +Welcome! thrice welcome, Werner, to my roof! +What brings you here? What seek you here in Uri? + +STAUFFACHER (_shakes_ FUeRST by _the hand_). + +The olden times and olden Switzerland. + +FUeRST. + +You bring them with you. See how glad I am, +My heart leaps at the very sight of you. +Sit down--sit down, and tell me how you left +Your charming wife, fair Gertrude? Iberg's child, +And clever as her father. Not a man +That wends from Germany, by Meinrad's Cell,[43] +To Italy, but praises far and wide +Your house's hospitality. But say, +Have you come here direct from Flueelen, +And have you noticed nothing on your way, +Before you halted at my door? + +STAUFFACHER (_sits down_). + + I saw +A work in progress, as I came along, +I little thought to see--that likes me ill. + +FUeRST. + +O friend! you've lighted on my thought at once. + +STAUFF. + +Such things in Uri ne'er were known before. +Never was prison here in man's remembrance, +Nor ever any stronghold but the grave. + +FUeRST. + +You name it well. It is the grave of freedom. + +STAUFF. + +Friend, Walter Fuerst, I will be plain with you. +No idle curiosity it is +That brings me here, but heavy cares. I left +Thraldom at home, and thraldom meets me here. +Our wrongs, e'en now, are more than we can bear, +And who shall tell us where they are to end? +From eldest time the Switzer has been free, +Accustom'd only to the mildest rule. +Such things as now we suffer ne'er were known, +Since herdsman first drove cattle to the hills. + +FUeRST. + +Yes, our oppressions are unparallel'd! +Why, even our own good lord of Attinghaus, +Who lived in olden times, himself declares +They are no longer to be tamely borne. + +STAUFF. + +In Unterwalden yonder 'tis the same; +And bloody has the retribution been. +The imperial Seneschal, the Wolfshot, who +At Rossberg dwelt, long'd for forbidden fruit-- +Baumgarten's wife, that lives at Alzellen, +He tried to make a victim to his lust, +On which the husband slew him with his age. + +FUeRST. + +O, Heaven is just in all its judgments still! +Baumgarten, say you? A most worthy man. +Has he escaped, and is he safely hid? + +STAUFF. + +Your son-in-law conveyed him o'er the lake, +And he lies hidden in my house at Steinen. +He brought the tidings with him of a thing +That has been done at Sarnen, worse than all, +A thing to make the very heart run blood! + +FUeRST (_attentively_). + +Say on. What is it? + +STAUFF. + + There dwells in Melchthal, then, +Just as you enter by the road from Kerns, +An upright man, named Henry of the Halden, +A man of weight and influence in the Diet. + +FUeRST. + +Who knows him not? But what of him? Proceed! + +STAUFF. + +The Landenberg, to punish some offense +Committed by the old man's son, it seems, +Had given command to take the youth's best pair +Of oxen from his plough; on which the lad +Struck down the messenger and took to flight. + +FUeRST. + +But the old father--tell me, what of him? + +STAUFF. + +The Landenberg sent for him, and required +He should produce his son upon the spot; +And when the old man protested, and with truth, +That he knew nothing of the fugitive, +The tyrant call'd his torturers. + +FUeRST (_springs up and tries to lead him to the other side_). + + Hush, no more! + +STAUFFACHER (_with increasing warmth_). + +"And though thy son," he cried, "has 'scaped me now, +I have thee fast, and thou shalt feel my vengeance." +With that they flung the old man to the ground, +And plunged the pointed steel into his eyes. + +FUeRST. + +Merciful Heaven! + +MELCHTHAL (_rushing out_). + Into his eyes, his eyes? + +STAUFFACHER (_addresses himself in astonishment to_ WALTER +FUeRST). + +Who is this youth? + +MELCHTHAL (_grasping him convulsively_). + Into his eyes? Speak, speak! + +FUeRST. + +O, miserable hour! + +STAUFF. + +Who is it, tell me! + + [STAUFFACHER _makes a sign to him_.] + +It is his son! All-righteous Heaven! + +MELCH. + + And I +Must be from thence! What! into both his eyes? + +FUeRST. + +Be calm, be calm; and bear it like a man! + +MELCH. + +And all for me--for my mad wilful folly! +Blind, did you say? Quite blind--and both his eyes? + +STAUFF. + +Ev'n so. 'The fountain of his sight is quench'd, +He ne'er will see the blessed sunshine more. + +FUeRST. + +Oh, spare his anguish! + +MELCH. + +Never, never more! + +[_Presses his hands upon his eyes and is silent for some +moments: then turning from one to the other speaks in a +subdued tone, broken by sobs._] + +O the eye's light, of all the gifts of Heaven, +The dearest, best! From light all beings live-- +Each fair created thing--the very plants +Turn with a joyful transport to the light, +And he--he must drag on through all his days +In endless darkness! Never more for him +The sunny meads shall glow, the flow'rets bloom; +Nor shall he more behold the roseate tints +Of the iced mountain top! To die is nothing. +But to have life, and not have sight--oh, that +Is misery indeed! Why do you look +So piteously at me? I have two eyes, +Yet to my poor blind father can give neither! +No, not one gleam of that great sea of light, +That with its dazzling splendor floods my gaze. + +STAUFF. + +Ah, I must swell the measure of your grief, +Instead of soothing it. The worst, alas! +Remains to tell. They've stripp'd him of his all; +Naught have they left him, save his staff, on which, +Blind, and in rags, he moves from door to door. + +MELCH. + +Naught but his staff to the old eyeless man! +Stripp'd of his all--even of the light of day, +The common blessing of the meanest wretch? +Tell me no more of patience, of concealment! +Oh, what a base and coward thing am I, +That on mine own security I thought +And took no care of thine! Thy precious head +Left as a pledge within the tyrant's grasp! +Hence, craven-hearted prudence, hence! And all +My thoughts be vengeance, and the despot's blood! +I'll seek him straight--no power shall stay me now-- +And at his hands demand my father's eyes. +I'll beard him 'mid a thousand myrmidons! +What's life to me, if in his heart's best blood +I cool the fever of this mighty anguish. + + [_He is going_.] + +FUeRST. + +Stay, this is madness, Melchthal! What avails +Your single arm against his power? He sits +At Sarnen high within his lordly keep, +And, safe within its battlemented walls, +May laugh to scorn your unavailing rage. + +MELCH. + +And though he sat within the icy domes +Of yon far Schreckhorn--ay, or higher, where, +Veil'd since eternity, the Jungfrau soars, +Still to the tyrant would I make my way; +With twenty comrades minded like myself, +I'd lay his fastness level with the earth! +And if none follow me, and if you all, +In terror for your homesteads and your herds, +Bow in submission to the tyrant's yoke, +Round me I'll call the herdsmen on the hills, +And there beneath heaven's free and boundless roof, +Where men still feel as men, and hearts are true, +Proclaim aloud this foul enormity! + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FUeRST). + + +The measure's full--and are we then to wait +Till some extremity-- + +MELCH. + + Peace! What extremity +Remains for us to dread? What, when our eyes +No longer in their sockets are secure? +Heavens! Are we helpless? Wherefore did we learn +To bend the cross-bow--wield the battle-axe? +What living creature but in its despair, +Finds for itself a weapon of defence? +The baited stag will turn, and with the show +Of his dread antlers hold the hounds at bay; +The chamois drags the huntsman down th' abyss; +The very ox, the partner of man's toil, +The sharer of his roof, that meekly bends +The strength of his huge neck beneath the yoke, +Springs up, if he's provoked, whets his strong horn, +And tosses his tormentor to the clouds. + +FUeRST. + +If the three Cantons thought as we three do, +Something might, then, be done, with good effect. + +STAUFF. + +When Uri calls, when Unterwald replies, +Schwytz will be mindful of her ancient league.[44] + +MELCH. + +I've many friends in Unterwald, and none +That would not gladly venture life and limb, +If fairly back'd and aided by the rest. +Oh! sage and reverend fathers of this land, +Here do I stand before your riper years, +An unskill'd youth, who in the Diet must +Into respectful silence hush his voice. +Yet do not, for that I am young, and want +Experience, slight my counsel and my words. +'Tis not the wantonness of youthful blood +That fires my spirit; but a pang so deep +That e'en the flinty rocks must pity me. +You, too, are fathers, heads of families, +And you must wish to have a virtuous son, +To reverence your gray hairs, and shield your eyes +With pious and affectionate regard. +Do not, I pray, because in limb and fortune +You still are unassail'd, and still your eyes +Revolve undimm'd and sparkling in their spheres-- +Oh, do not, therefore, disregard our wrongs! +Above you, also, hangs the tyrant's sword. +You, too, have striven to alienate the land +From Austria. This was all my father's crime: +You share his guilt, and _may_ his punishment. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FUeRST). + +Do thou resolve! I am prepared to follow. + +FUeRST. + +First let us learn what steps the noble lords +Von Sillinen and Attinghaus propose. +Their names would rally thousands to the cause. + +MELCH. + +Is there a name within the Forest Mountains +That carries more respect than yours--and yours? +On names like these the people build their trust +In time of need--such names are household words. +Rich was your heritage of manly worth, +And richly have you added to its stores. +What need of nobles? Let us do the work +Ourselves. Yes, though we have to stand alone, +We shall be able to maintain our rights. + +STAUFF. + +The nobles' wrongs are not so great as ours. +The torrent, that lays waste the lower grounds, +Hath not ascended to the uplands yet. +But let them see the country once in arms, +They'll not refuse to lend a helping hand. + +FUeRST. + +Were there an umpire 'twixt ourselves and Austria, +Justice and law might then decide our quarrel. +But our oppressor is our Emperor too, +And judge supreme. 'Tis God must help us, then, +And our own arm! Be yours the task to rouse +The men of Schwytz; I'll rally friends in Uri. +But whom are we to send to Unterwald? + +MELCH. + +Thither send me. Whom should it more concern? + +FUeRST. + +No, Melchthal, no; you are my guest, and I +Must answer for your safety. + +MELCH. + + Let me go. +I know each forest track and mountain path; +Friends too, I'll find, be sure, on every hand, +To give me willing shelter from the foe. + +STAUFF. + +Nay, let him go; no traitors harbor there: +For tyranny is so abhorred in Unterwald, +No tools can there be found to work her will. +In the low valleys, too, the Alzeller +Will gain confederates, and rouse the country. + +MELCH. + +But how shall we communicate, and not +Awaken the suspicion of the tyrants? + +STAUFF. + +Might we not meet at Brunnen or at Treib, +Where merchant vessels with their cargoes come? + +FUeRST. + +We must not go so openly to work. +Hear my opinion. On the lake's left bank, +As we sail hence to Brunnen, right against +The Mytenstein, deep-hidden in the wood +A meadow lies, by shepherds called the Rootli, +Because the wood has been uprooted there. +'Tis where our Canton bound'ries verge on yours;-- + + [_To_ MELCHTHAL.] + +Your boat will carry you across from Schwytz. + + [_To_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Thither by lonely by-paths let us wend +At midnight, and deliberate o'er our plans. +Let each bring with him there ten trusty men, +All one at heart with us; and then we may +Consult together for the general weal, +And, with God's guidance, fix what next to do. + +STAUFF. + +So let it be. And now your true right hand! +Yours, too, young man! and as we now three men +Among ourselves thus knit our hands together +In all sincerity and truth, e'en so +Shall we three Cantons, too, together stand +In victory and defeat, in life and death. + +FUeRST _and_ MELCHTHAL. + +In life and death. + +[_They hold their hands clasped together for some moments in +silence_.] + +MELCH. + + Alas, my old blind father! +The day of freedom, that thou canst not see. +But thou shalt hear it, when from Alp to Alp +The beacon fires throw up their flaming signs, +And the proud castles of the tyrants fall, +Into thy cottage shall the Switzer burst, +Bear the glad tidings to thine ear, and o'er +Thy darken'd way shall Freedom's radiance pour. + + * * * * * + + + +ACT II + + +SCENE I + + +_The Mansion of the_ BARON of ATTINGHAUSEN. _A Gothic Hall, +decorated with escutcheons and helmets_. The BARON, _a +gray-headed man, eighty-five years old, tall and of a +commanding mien, clad in a furred pelisse, and leaning on a +staff tipped with chamois horn_. KUONI _and six hinds +standing round him with rakes and scythes_. ULRICH of RUDENZ +_enters in the costume of a Knight_. + + +RUDENZ. + +Uncle, I'm here! Your will? + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + First let me share, +After the ancient custom of our house, +The morning cup, with these my faithful servants! + + [_He drinks from a cup, which is then passed round_.] + +Time was, I stood myself in field and wood, +With mine own eyes directing all their toil, +Even as my banner led them in the fight; +Now I am only fit to play the steward: +And, if the genial sun come not to me, +I can no longer seek it on the hills. +Thus slowly, in an ever narrowing sphere, +I move on to the narrowest and the last, +Where all life's pulses cease. I now am but +The shadow of my former self, and that +Is fading fast--'twill soon be but a name. + +KUONI (_offering_ RUDENZ _the cup_). + +A pledge, young master! + + [RUDENZ _hesitates to take the cup_.] + + Nay, Sir, drink it off. +One cup, one heart! You know our proverb, Sir? + +ATTING. + +Go, children, and at eve, when work is done, +We'll meet and talk the country's business over. + + [_Exeunt Servants_.] + +Belted and plumed, and all thy bravery on! +Thou art for Altdorf--for the castle, boy? + +RUDENZ. + +Yes, uncle. Longer may I not delay-- + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_sitting down_). + + +Why in such haste? Say, are thy youthful hours +Doled in such niggard measure, that thou must +Be chary of them to thy aged uncle? + +RUDENZ. + +I see my presence is not needed here; +I am but as a stranger in this house. + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_gazes fixedly at him for a considerable +time_). + +Ay, pity 'tis thou art! Alas, that home +To thee has grown so strange! Oh, Uly! Uly! +I scarce do know thee now, thus deck'd in silks, +The peacock's feather[45] flaunting in thy cap, +And purple mantle round thy shoulders flung; +Thou look'st upon the peasant with disdain; +And tak'st his honest greeting with a blush. + +RUDENZ. + +All honor due to him I gladly pay, +But must deny the right he would usurp. + +ATTING. + +The sore displeasure of its monarch rests +Upon our land, and every true man's heart +Is full of sadness for the grievous wrongs +We suffer from our tyrants. Thou alone +Art all unmoved amid the general grief. +Abandoning thy friends, thou tak'st thy stand +Beside thy country's foes, and, as in scorn +Of our distress, pursuest giddy joys, +Courting the smiles of princes all the while +Thy country bleeds beneath their cruel scourge. + +RUDENZ. + +The land is sore oppress'd, I know it, uncle. +But why? Who plunged it into this distress? +A word, one little easy word, might buy +Instant deliverance from all our ills, +And win the good will of the Emperor. +Woe unto those who seal the people's eyes, +And make them adverse to their country's good-- +The men, who, for their own vile selfish ends, +Are seeking to prevent the Forest States +From swearing fealty to Austria's House, +As all the countries round about have done. +It fits their humor well, to take their seats +Amid the nobles on the Herrenbank;[46] +They'll have the Kaiser for their lord, forsooth-- +That is to say, they'll have no lord at all. + +ATTING. + +Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy! + +RUDENZ. + +You urged me to this answer. Hear me out. +What, uncle, is the character you've stoop'd +To fill contentedly through life? Have you +No higher pride than in these lonely wilds +To be the Landamman or Banneret,[47] +The petty chieftain of a shepherd race? +How! Were it not a far more glorious choice, +To bend in homage to our royal lord, +And swell the princely splendors of his court, +Than sit at home, the peer of your own vassals, +And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns? + +ATTING. + +Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see, +The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear, +And pour'd its subtle poison in thy heart. + +RUDENZ. + +Yes, I conceal it not. It doth offend +My inmost soul, to hear the stranger's gibes, +That taunt us with the name of "Peasant Nobles!" +Think you the heart that's stirring here can brook, +While all the young nobility around +Are reaping honor under Habsburg's banner, +That I should loiter, in inglorious ease, +Here on the heritage my fathers left, +And, in the dull routine of vulgar toil, +Lose all life's glorious spring? In other lands +Great deeds are done. A world of fair renown +Beyond these mountains stirs in martial pomp. +My helm and shield are rusting in the hall; +The martial trumpet's spirit-stirring blast, +The herald's call, inviting to the lists, +Rouse not the echoes of these vales, where naught +Save cowherd's horn and cattle bell is heard, +In one unvarying dull monotony. + +ATTING. + +Deluded boy, seduced by empty show! +Despise the land that gave thee birth! Ashamed +Of the good ancient customs of thy sires! +The day will come, when thou, with burning tears, +Wilt long for home, and for thy native hills, +And that dear melody of tuneful herds, +Which now, in proud disgust, thou dost despise! +A day when wistful pangs shall shake thy heart, +Hearing their music in a foreign land. +Oh! potent is the spell that binds to home! +No, no, the cold, false world is not for thee. +At the proud court, with thy true heart, thou wilt +Forever feel a stranger among strangers. +The world asks virtues of far other stamp +Than thou hast learned within these simple vales. +But go--go thither--barter thy free soul, +Take land in fief, be minion to a prince, +Where thou might'st be lord paramount, and prince +Of all thine own unburden'd heritage! +O, Uly, Uly, stay among thy people! +Go not to Altdorf. Oh, abandon not +The sacred cause of thy wrong'd native land! +I am the last of all my race. My name +Ends with me. Yonder hang my helm and shield; +They will be buried with me in the grave.[48] +And must I think, when yielding up my breath, +That thou but wait'st the closing of mine eyes, +To stoop thy knee to this new feudal court, +And take in vassalage from Austria's hands +The noble lands, which I from God received, +Free and unfetter'd as the mountain air! + +RUDENZ. + +'Tis vain for us to strive against the king. +The world pertains to him. Shall we alone, +In mad presumptuous obstinacy, strive +To break that mighty chain of lands, which he +Hath drawn around us with his giant grasp? +His are the markets, his the courts--his, too, +The highways; nay, the very carrier's horse, +That traffics on the Gotthardt, pays him toll. +By his dominions, as within a net, +We are inclosed, and girded round about-- +And will the Empire shield us? Say, can it +Protect itself 'gainst Austria's growing power? +To God, and not to emperors must we look! +What store can on their promises be placed, +When they, to meet their own necessities, +Can pawn, and even alienate the towns +That flee for shelter 'neath the Eagle's wings?[49] +No, uncle! It is wise and wholesome prudence, +In times like these, when faction's all abroad, +To vow attachment to some mighty chief. +The imperial crown's transferred from line to line.[50] +It has no memory for faithful service +But to secure the favor of these great +Hereditary masters, were to sow +Seed for a future harvest. + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + Art so wise? +Wilt thou see clearer than thy noble sires, +Who battled for fair freedom's priceless gem +With life, and fortune, and heroic arm? +Sail down the lake to Lucern, there inquire +How Austria's thraldom weighs the Cantons down. +Soon she will come to count our sheep, our cattle, +To portion out the Alps, e'en to their peaks, +And in our own free woods to hinder us +From striking down the eagle or the stag; +To set her tolls on every bridge and gate, +Impoverish us, to swell her lust of sway, +And drain our dearest blood to feed her wars. +No, if our blood must flow, let it be shed +In our own cause! We purchase liberty +More cheaply far than bondage. + +RUDENZ. + + What can we, +A shepherd race, against great Albert's hosts? + +ATTING. + +Learn, foolish boy, to know this shepherd race! +I know them, I have led them on in fight-- +I saw them in the battle of Favenz. +What! Austria try, forsooth, to force on us +A yoke we are determined not to bear! +Oh, learn to feel from what a stock thou'rt sprung; +Cast not, for tinsel trash and idle show, +The precious jewel of thy worth away. +To be the chieftain of a free born race, +Bound to thee only by their unbought love, +Ready to stand--to fight--to die with thee, +Be that thy pride, be that thy noblest boast! +Knit to thy heart the ties of kindred--home-- +Cling to the land, the dear land of thy sires, +Grapple to that with thy whole heart and soul! +Thy power is rooted deep and strongly here, +But in yon stranger world thou'lt stand alone, +A trembling reed beat down by every blast. +Oh come! 'tis long since we have seen thee, Uly! +Tarry but this one day. Only today! +Go not to Altdorf. Wilt thou? Not today! +For this one day, bestow thee on thy friends. + + [_Takes his hand_.] + +RUDENZ. + +I gave my word. Unhand me! I am bound. + +ATTING. (_drops his hand and says sternly_). + +Bound, didst thou say? Oh yes, unhappy boy, +Thou art indeed. But not by word or oath. +'Tis by the silken mesh of love thou'rt bound. + + [RUDENZ _turns away_.] + +Ay, hide thee, as thou wilt. 'Tis she, I know, +Bertha of Bruneck, draws thee to the court; +'Tis she that chains thee to the Emperor's service. +Thou think'st to win the noble knightly maid +By thy apostacy. Be not deceived. +She is held out before thee as a lure; +But never meant for innocence like thine. + +RUDENZ. + +No more, I've heard enough. So fare you well. + + _[Exit.]_ + +ATTING. + +Stay, Uly! Stay! Rash boy, he's gone! I can +Nor hold him back, nor save him from destruction. +And so the Wolfshot has deserted us; +Others will follow his example soon. +This foreign witchery, sweeping o'er our hills, +Tears with its potent spell our youth away. +O luckless hour, when men and manners strange +Into these calm and happy valleys came, +To warp our primitive and guileless ways! +The new is pressing on with might. The old, +The good, the simple, all fleet fast away. +New times come on. A race is springing up +That think not as their fathers thought before! +What do I hear? All, all are in the grave +With whom erewhile I moved, and held converse; +My age has long been laid beneath the sod +Happy the man, who may not live to see +What shall be done by those that follow me! + + +SCENE II + + +_A meadow surrounded by high rocks and wooded ground. On the +rocks are tracks, with rails and ladders, by which the +peasants are afterward seen descending. In the background +the lake is observed, and over it a moon rainbow in the +early part of the scene. The prospect is closed by lofty +mountains, with glaciers rising behind them. The stage is +dark, but the lake and glaciers glisten in the moonlight._ + +MELCHTHAL, BAUMGARTEN, WINKELRIED, MEYER VON SARNEN BURKHART +AM BUHEL, ARNOLD VON SEWA, KLAUS VON DER FLUE, _and four +other peasants, all armed._ + +MELCHTHAL _(behind the scenes)_. + +The mountain pass is open. Follow me! +I see the rock, and little cross upon it: +This is the spot; here is the Rootli. + + _[They enter with torches.]_ + +WINKELRIED. + + Hark! + +SEWA. + +The coast is clear. + +MEYER. + + None of our comrades come? +We are the first, we Unterwaldeners. + +MELCH. + + How far is't i' the night? + +BAUMGARTEN. + + The beacon watch +Upon the Selisberg has just called two. + + _[A bell is heard at a distance.]_ + +MEYER. + +Hush! Hark! + +BUHEL. + + The forest chapel's matin bell +Chimes clearly o'er the lake from Switzerland. + +VON F. + +The air is clear and bears the sound so far. + +MELCH. + +Go, you and you, and light some broken boughs, +Let's bid them welcome with a cheerful blaze. + +_[Two peasants exeunt_.] + +SEWA. + +The moon shines fair tonight. Beneath its beams +The lake reposes, bright as burnish'd steel. + +BUHEL. They'll have an easy passage. + +WINK. _(pointing to the lake_). + + Ha! look there! +Do you see nothing? + +MEYER. + + Ay, indeed, I do! +A rainbow in the middle of the night. + +MELCH. + +Formed by the bright reflection of the moon! + +VON F. + +A sign most strange and wonderful, indeed! +Many there be who ne'er have seen the like. + +SEWA. + +'Tis doubled, see, a paler one above! + +BAUM. + +A boat is gliding yonder right beneath it. + +MELCH. + +That must be Werner Stauffacher! I knew +The worthy patriot would not tarry long. + + _[Goes with_ BAUMGARTEN _toward the shore_.] + +MEYER. + +The Uri men are like to be the last. + +BUHEL. + +They're forced to take a winding circuit through +The mountains; for the Viceroy's spies are out. + +_[In the meanwhile the two peasants have kindled a fire in +the centre of the stage.]_ MELCHTHAL _(on the shore)_. + +Who's there? The word? + +STAUFFACHER _(from below_). + + Friends of the country. + +_[All retire up the stage, toward the party landing from the +boat. Enter_ STAUFFACHER, ITEL REDING, HANS AUF DER MAUER, +JORG IM HOFE, CONRAD HUNN, ULRICH DER SCHMIDT, JOST VON +WEILER, _and three other peasants, armed.]_ + +ALL. + + Welcome! + +_[While the rest remain behind exchanging greetings_, +MELCHTHAL _Comes forward with_ STAUFFACHER.] + +MELCH. + +Oh worthy Stauffacher, I've look'd but now +On him who could not look on me again; +I've laid my hands upon his rayless eyes, +And on their vacant orbits sworn a vow +Of vengeance, only to be cool'd in blood. + +STAUFF. + +Speak not of vengeance. We are here, to meet +The threatened evil, not to avenge the past. +Now tell me what you've done, and what secured, +To aid the common cause in Unterwald. +How stand the peasantry disposed, and how +Yourself escaped the wiles of treachery? + +MELCH. + +Through the Surenen's fearful mountain chain, +Where dreary ice-fields stretch on every side, +And sound is none save the hoarse vulture's cry, +I reach'd the Alpine pasture, where the herds +From Uri and from Engelberg resort, +And turn their cattle forth to graze in common. +Still as I went along, I slaked my thirst +With the coarse oozings of the glacier heights +That thro' the crevices come foaming down, +And turned to rest me in the herdsmen's cots,[51] +Where I was host and guest, until I gain'd +The cheerful homes and social haunts of men. +Already through these distant vales had spread +The rumor of this last atrocity; +And wheresoe'er I went, at every door, +Kind words saluted me and gentle looks. +I found these simple spirits all in arms +Against our rulers' tyrannous encroachments. +For as their Alps through each succeeding year +Yield the same roots--their streams flow ever on +In the same channels--nay, the clouds and winds +The selfsame course unalterably pursue, +So have old customs there, from sire to son, +Been handed down, unchanging and unchanged; +Nor will they brook to swerve or turn aside +From the fixed even tenor of their life. +With grasp of their hard hands they welcomed me-- +Took from the walls their rusty falchions down-- +And from their eyes the soul of valor flash'd +With joyful lustre, as I spoke those names, +Sacred to every peasant in the mountains, +Your own and Walter Fuerst's. Whate'er your voice +Should dictate as the right, they swore to do; +And you they swore to follow e'en to death. +--So sped I on from house to house, secure +In the guest's sacred privilege;--and when +I reached at last the valley of my home, +Where dwell my kinsmen, scatter'd far and near-- +And when I found my father, stript and blind, +Upon the stranger's straw, fed by the alms +Of charity-- + +STAUFFACHER. + + Great heavens! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Yet wept I not! +No--not in weak and unavailing tears +Spent I the force of my fierce burning anguish; +Deep in my bosom, like some precious treasure, +I lock'd it fast, and thought on deeds alone. +Through every winding of the hills I crept-- +No valley so remote but I explored it; +Nay, at the very glacier's ice-clad base, +I sought and found the homes of living men; +And still, where'er my wandering footsteps turn'd, +The selfsame hatred of these tyrants met me. +For even there, at vegetation's verge, +Where the numb'd earth is barren of all fruits, +Their grasping hands had been for plunder thrust. +Into the hearts of all this honest race +The story of my wrongs struck deep, and now +They, to a man, are ours; both heart and hand. + +STAUFF. + +Great things, indeed, you've wrought in little time. + +MELCH. + +I did still more than this. The fortresses, +Rossberg and Sarnen, are the country's dread; +For from behind their adamantine walls +The foe, like eagle from his eyrie swoops, +And, safe himself, spreads havoc o'er the land. +With my own eyes I wish'd to weigh its strength, +So went to Sarnen, and explored the castle. + +STAUFF. + +How! Venture even into the tiger's den? + +MELCH. + +Disguised in pilgrim's weeds I entered it; +I saw the Viceroy feasting at his board-- +Judge if I'm master of myself or no! +I saw the tyrant, and I slew him not! + +STAUFF. + +Fortune, indeed, upon your boldness smiled. + +_[Meanwhile the others have arrived and join_ MELCHTHAL +_and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Yet tell me now, I pray, who are the friends, +The worthy men, who came along with you +Make me acquainted with them, that we may +Speak frankly, man to man, and heart to heart. + +MEYER. + +In the three Cantons, who, sir, knows not you? +Meyer of Sarnen is my name; and this +Is Struth of Winkelried, my sister's son. + +STAUFF. + +No unknown name. A Winkelried it was +Who slew the dragon in the fen at Weiler, +And lost his life in the encounter, too. + +WINK. + +That, Master Stauffacher, was my grandfather. + +MELCHTHAL _(pointing to two peasants)_. + +These two are men who till the cloister lands +Of Engelberg, and live behind the forest. +You'll not think ill of them, because they're serfs, +And sit not free upon the soil, like us; +They love the land, and bear a good repute. + +STAUFFACHER _(to them)_. + +Give me your hands. He has good cause for thanks +That to no man his body's service owes. +But worth is worth, no matter where 'tis found. + +HUNN. + +That is Herr Reding, sir, our old Landamman; + +MEYER. + +I know him well. I am at law with him +About a piece of ancient heritage. +Herr Reding, we are enemies in court-- +Here we are one. + + _[Shakes his hand_.] + +STAUFFACHER. + + That's well and bravely said. + +WINK. Listen! They come. The horn of Uri! Hark! + +_[On the right and left armed men are seen descending the +rocks with torches_.] + +MAUER. + +Look, is not that the holy man of God? +A worthy priest! The terrors of the night, +And the way's pains and perils scare not him, +A faithful shepherd caring for his flock. +BAUM. The Sacrist follows him, and Walter Fuerst. +But where is Tell? I do not see him there. + +[WALTER FUeRST, ROeSSELMANN _the Pastor,_ PETERMANN _the +Sacrist_, KUONI _the Shepherd_ WERNI _the Huntsman_, RUODI +_the Fisherman, and other countrymen, thirty-three in all, +advance and take their places round the fire.]_ + +FUeRST. + +Thus must we, on the soil our fathers left us, +Creep forth by stealth to meet like murderers, +And in the night, that should her mantle lend +Only to, crime and black conspiracy, +Assert our own good rights which yet are clear +As is the radiance of the noonday sun. + +MELCH. + +So be it. What is hatch'd in gloom of night +Shall free and boldly meet the morning light. + +ROeSSEL. + +Confederates! Listen to the words which God +Inspires my heart withal. Here we are met, +To represent the general weal. In us +Are all the people of the land convened. +Then let us hold the Diet, as of old, +And as we're wont in peaceful times to do. +The time's necessity be our excuse, +If there be aught informal in this meeting. +Still, wheresoe'er men strike for justice, there +Is God, and now beneath His heav'n we stand. + +STAUFF. + +'Tis well advised.--Let us, then, hold the Diet, +According to our ancient usages.-- +Though it be night, there's sunshine in our cause. + +MELCH. + +Few though our numbers be, the hearts are here +Of the whole people; here the BEST are met. + +HUNN. + +The ancient books may not be near at hand, +Yet are they graven in our inmost hearts. + +ROeSSEL. + +'Tis well. And now, then, let a ring be formed, +And plant the swords of power within the ground.[52] + +MAUER. + +Let the Landamman step into his place, +And by his side his secretaries stand. + +SACRIST. + +There are three Cantons here. Which hath the right +To give the head to the united Council? +Schwytz may contest that dignity with Uri; +We Unterwald'ners enter not the field. + +MELCH. + +We stand aside. We are but suppliants here, +Invoking aid from our more potent friends. + +STAUFF. + +Let Uri have the sword. Her banner takes, +In battle, the precedence of our own. + +FUeRST. + +Schwytz, then, must share the honor of the sword; +For she's the honored ancestor of all. + +ROeSSEL. + +Let me arrange this generous controversy. +Uri shall lead in battle--Schwytz in Council. + +FUeRST _(gives_ STAUFFACHER _his hand)_. + +Then take your place. + +STAUFFACHER. + + Not I. Some older man. + +HOFE. + +Ulrich, the Smith, is the most aged here. + +MAUER. + +A worthy man, but not a freeman; no! +--No bondman can be judge in Switzerland. + +STAUFF. + +Is not Herr Reding here, our old Landamman! +Where can we find a worthier man than he? + +FUeRST. + +Let him be Amman and the Diet's chief! +You that agree with me, hold up your hands! + + _[All hold up their right hands_.] + +REDING _(stepping into the centre)_. + +I cannot lay my hands upon the books; +But by yon everlasting stars I swear, +Never to swerve from justice and the right. + +_[The two swords are placed before him, and a circle formed; +Schwytz in the centre, Uri on his right, Unterwald on his +left.]_ + +REDING _(resting on his battle sword)_. + +Why, at the hour when spirits walk the earth, +Meet the three Cantons of the mountains here, +Upon the lake's inhospitable shore? +What may the purport be of this new league +We here contract beneath the starry heaven? + +STAUFFACHER _(entering the circle_). + +'Tis no new league that here we now contract; +But one our fathers framed, in ancient times, +We purpose to renew! For know, confederates, +Though mountain ridge and lake divide our bounds, +And each Canton by its own laws is ruled, +Yet are we but one race, born of one blood, +And all are children of one common home. + +WINK. + +Is then the burden of our legends true, +That we came hither from a distant land? +Oh, tell us what you know, that our new league +May reap fresh vigor from the leagues of old. + +STAUFF. + +Hear, then, what aged herdsmen tell. There dwelt +A mighty people in the land that lies +Back to the north. The scourge of famine came; +And in this strait 'twas publicly resolved +That each tenth man, on whom the lot might fall, +Should leave the country. They obey'd--and forth, +With loud lamentings, men and women went, +A mighty host; and to the south moved on, +Cutting their way through Germany by the sword, +Until they gained these pine-clad hills of ours; +Nor stopp'd they ever on their forward course, +Till at the shaggy dell they halted where +The Mueta flows through its luxuriant meads. +No trace of human creature met their eye, +Save one poor hut upon the desert shore, +Where dwelt a lonely man, and kept the ferry. +A tempest raged--the lake rose mountains high +And barr'd their further progress. Thereupon +They view'd the country--found it rich in wood, +Discover'd goodly springs, and felt as they +Were in their own dear native land once more. +Then they resolved to settle on the spot; +Erected there the ancient town of Schwytz; +And many a day of toil had they to clear +The tangled brake and forest's spreading roots. +Meanwhile their numbers grew, the soil became +Unequal to sustain them, and they cross'd +To the black mountain, far as Weissland, where, +Conceal'd behind eternal walls of ice, +Another people speak another tongue. +They built the village of Stanz, beside the Kernwald; +The village Altdorf, in the vale of Reuss; +Yet, ever mindful of their parent stem, +The men of Schwytz, from all the stranger race +That since that time have settled in the land, +Each other recognize. Their hearts still know, +And beat fraternally to kindred blood. + + _[Extends his hand right and left_.] + +MAUER. + +Ay, we are all one heart, one blood, one race! + +ALL _(joining hands)_. + +We are one people, and will act as one. + +STAUFF. + +The nations round us bear a foreign yoke; +For they have to the conqueror succumbed. +Nay, e'en within our frontiers may be found +Some, that owe villein service to a lord, +A race of bonded serfs from sire to son. +But we, the genuine race of ancient Swiss, +Have kept our freedom from the first till now. +Never to princes have we bow'd the knee; +Freely we sought protection of the Empire. + +ROeSSEL. + +Freely we sought it--freely it was given. +'Tis so set down in Emperor Frederick's charter. + +STAUFF. + +For the most free have still some feudal lord. +There must be still a chief, a judge supreme, +To whom appeal may lie, in case of strife. +And therefore was it that our sires allow'd, +For what they had recover'd from the waste, +This honor to the Emperor, the lord +Of all the German and Italian soil; +And, like the other free men of his realm, +Engaged to aid him with their swords in war; +The free man's duty this alone should be, +To guard the Empire that keeps guard for him. + +MELCH. + +He's but a slave that would acknowledge more. + +STAUFF. + +They followed, when the Heribann[53] went forth, +The imperial standard, and they fought its battles! +To Italy they march'd in arms, to place +The Caesars' crown upon the Emperor's head. +But still at home they ruled themselves in peace +By their own laws and ancient usages. +The Emperor's only right was to adjudge +The penalty of death; he therefore named +Some mighty noble as his delegate, +That had no stake or interest in the land, +Who was call'd in, when doom was to be pass'd, +And, in the face of day, pronounced decree, +Clear and distinctly, fearing no man's hate. +What traces here, that we are bondsmen? Speak, +If there be any can gainsay my words! + +HOFE. + +No! You have spoken but the simple truth; +We never stoop'd beneath a tyrant's yoke. + +STAUFF. + +Even to the Emperor we did not submit, +When he gave judgment 'gainst us for the church; +For when the Abbey of Einsiedlen claimed +The Alp our fathers and ourselves had grazed, +And showed an ancient charter which bestowed +The land on them as being ownerless-- +For our existence there had been concealed-- +What was our answer? This: "The grant is void. +No Emperor can bestow what is our own +And if the Empire shall deny our rights, +We can, within our mountains, right ourselves!" +Thus spake our fathers! And shall we endure +The shame and infamy of this new yoke, +And from the vassal brook what never king +Dared, in his plenitude of power, attempt? +This soil we have created for ourselves, +By the hard labor of our hands; we've changed +The giant forest, that was erst the haunt +Of savage bears, into a home for man; +Extirpated the dragon's brood, that wont +To rise, distent with venom, from the swamps; +Rent the thick misty canopy that hung +Its blighting vapors on the dreary waste; +Blasted the solid rock; across the chasm +Thrown the firm bridge for the wayfaring man. +By the possession of a thousand years +The soil is ours. And shall an alien lord, +Himself a vassal, dare to venture here, +Insult us by our own hearth fires--attempt +To forge the chains of bondage for our hands, +And do us shame on our own proper soil? +Is there no help against such wrong as this? + + _[Great sensation among the people_.] + +Yes! there's a limit to the despot's power! +When the oppress'd for justice looks in vain, +When his sore burden may no more be borne, +With fearless heart he makes appeal to Heaven, +And thence brings down his everlasting rights, +Which there abide, inalienably his, +And indestructible as are the stars. +Nature's primeval state returns again, +Where man stands hostile to his fellow man; +And if all other means shall fail his need, +One last resource remains--his own good sword. +Our dearest treasures call to us for aid +Against the oppressor's violence; we stand +For country, home, for wives, for children here! + +ALL _(clashing their swords)_. + +Here stand we for our homes, our wives, and +children. + +ROeSSELMANN _(stepping into the circle)_. + +Bethink ye well, before ye draw the sword. +Some peaceful compromise may yet be made; +Speak but one word, and at your feet you'll see +The men who now oppress you. Take the terms +That have been often tendered you; renounce +The Empire, and to Austria swear allegiance! + +MAUER. + +What says the priest? To Austria allegiance? + +BUHEL. + +Hearken not to him! + +WINKELRIED. + + 'Tis a traitor's counsel, +His country's foe! + +REDING. + + Peace, peace, confederates! + +SEWA. + +Homage to Austria, after wrongs like these! + +FLUE. + +Shall Austria extort from us by force +What we denied to kindness and entreaty? + +MEYER. + +Then should we all be slaves, deservedly. + +MAUER. + +Yes! Let him forfeit all a Switzer's rights, +Who talks of yielding thus to Austria's yoke! +I stand on this, Landamman. Let this be +The foremost of our laws! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Even so! Whoe'er +Shall talk of bearing Austria's yoke, let him +Of all his rights and honors be despoiled, +No man thenceforth receive him at his hearth! + +ALL _(raising their right hands)_. + +Agreed! Be this the law! + +REDING _(after a pause)_. + + The law it is. + +ROeSSEL. + +Now you are free--this law hath made you free. +Never shall Austria obtain by force +What she has fail'd to gain by friendly suit. + +WEIL. + +On with the order of the day! Proceed! + +REDING. + +Confederates! Have all gentler means been tried? +Perchance the Emp'ror knows not of our wrongs; +It may not be his will we suffer thus +Were it not well to make one last attempt, +And lay our grievances before the throne, +Ere we unsheath the sword? Force is at best +A fearful thing e'en in a righteous cause; +God only helps, when man can help no more. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ KONRAD HUNN). + +Here you can give us information. Speak! + +HUNN. + +I was at Rheinfeld, at the Emperor's Court, +Deputed by the Cantons to complain +Of the oppressions of these governors, +And of our liberties the charter claim +Which each new king till now has ratified. +I found the envoys there of many a town, +From Suabia and the valley of the Rhine, +Who all received their parchments as they wish'd, +And straight went home again with merry heart. +But me, your envoy, they to the council sent, +Where I with empty cheer was soon dismiss'd. +"The Emperor at present was engaged; +Some other time he would attend to us!" +I turn'd away, and passing through the hall, +With heavy heart, in a recess I saw +The Grand Duke John[54] in tears, and by his side +The noble lords of Wart and Tegerfeld, +Who beckon'd me, and said, "Redress yourselves. +Expect not justice from the Emperor. +Does he not plunder his own brother's child, +And keep from him his just inheritance?" +The Duke claims his maternal property, +Urging he's now of age, and 'tis full time +That he should rule his people and estates +What is the answer made to him? The king +Places a chaplet on his head; "Behold +The fitting ornament," he cries, "of youth!" + +MAUER. + +You hear. Expect not from the Emperor +Or right or justice! Then redress yourselves! + +REDING. + +No other course is left us. Now, advise +What plan most likely to insure success. + +FUeRST. + +To shake a thraldom off that we abhor, +To keep our ancient rights inviolate, +As we received them from our fathers--this, +Not lawless innovation, is our aim. +Let Caesar still retain what is his due; +And he that is a vassal, let him pay +The service he is sworn to faithfully. + +MEYER. + +I hold my land of Austria in fief. + +FUeRST. + +Continue, then, to pay your feudal dues. + +WEIT. + +I'm tenant of the lords of Rappersweil. + +FUeRST. + +Continue, then, to pay them rent and tithe. + +ROeSSEL. + +Of Zurich's Abbess humble vassal I. + +FUeRST. + +Give to the cloister what the cloister claims. + +STAUFF. + +The Empire only is my feudal lord. + +FUeRST. + +What needs must be, we'll do, but nothing more. +We'll drive these tyrants and their minions hence, +And raze their towering strongholds to the ground, +Yet shed, if possible, no drop of blood. +Let the Emperor see that we were driven to cast +The sacred duties of respect away; +And when he finds we keep within our bounds, +His wrath, belike, may yield to policy; +For truly is that nation to be fear'd +That, arms in hand, is temperate in its wrath. + +REDING. + +But prithee tell us how may this be done +The enemy is arm'd as well as we, +And, rest assured, he will not yield in peace. + +STAUFF. + +He will, whene'er he sees us up in arms; +We shall surprise him, ere he is prepared. + +MEYER. + +Easily said, but not so easily done. +Two strongholds dominate the country--they +Protect the foe, and should the king invade us, +Our task would then be dangerous indeed. +Rossberg and Sarnen both must be secured, +Before a sword is drawn in either Canton. + +STAUFF. + +Should we delay, the foe would soon be warned. +We are too numerous for secrecy. + +MEYER. + +There is no traitor in the Forest States. + +ROeSSEL. + +But even zeal may heedlessly betray. + +FUeRST. + +Delay it no longer, and the keep at Altdorf +Will be complete--the governor secure. + +MEYER. + +You think but of yourselves. + +SACRISTAN. + + You're unjust! + +MEYER. + +Unjust! said you? Dares Uri taunt us so? + +REDING. + +Peace, on your oath! + +SACRISTAN. + + If Schwytz be leagued with Uri, +Why, then, indeed, we must perforce be dumb. + +REDING. + +And let me tell you, in the Diet's name, +Your hasty spirit much disturbs the peace. +Stand we not all for the same common cause? + +WINK. + +What, if till Christmas we delay? 'Tis then +The custom for the serfs to throng the castle, +Bringing the governor their annual gifts. +Thus may some ten or twelve selected men +Assemble unobserved, within its walls, +Bearing about their persons pikes of steel +Which may be quickly mounted upon staves; +For arms are not admitted to the fort. +The rest can fill the neighb'ring wood, prepared +To sally forth upon a trumpet's blast, +Soon as their comrades have secured the gate; +And thus the castle will with ease be ours. + +MELCH. + +The Rossberg I will undertake to scale. +I have a sweetheart in the garrison, +Whom with some tender words I could persuade +To lower me at night a hempen ladder. +Once up, my friends will not be long behind. + +REDING. + +Are all resolved in favor of delay? + +_[The majority raise their hands_.] + +STAUFFACHER _(counting them)._ + +Twenty to twelve is the majority. + +FUeRST. + +If on the appointed day the castles fall, +From mountain on to mountain we shall speed +The fiery signal: in the capital +Of every Canton quickly rouse the Landsturm.[55] +Then, when these tyrants see our martial front, +Believe me, they will never make so bold +As risk the conflict, but will gladly take +Safe conduct forth beyond our boundaries. + +STAUFF. + +Not so with Gessler. He will make a stand. +Surrounded with his dread array of horse, +Blood will be shed before he quits the field, +And even expell'd he'd still be terrible. +'Tis hard, nay, dangerous, to spare his life. + +BAUM. + +Place me where'er a life is to be lost; +I owe my life to Tell, and cheerfully +Will pledge it for my country. I have clear'd. +My honor, and my heart is now at rest. + +REDING. + +Counsel will come with circumstance. Be patient! +Something must still be to the moment left. +Yet, while by night we hold our Diet here, +The morning, see, has on the mountain tops +Kindled her glowing beacon. Let us part, +Ere the broad sun surprise us. + +FUeRST. + + Do not fear. +The night wanes slowly from these vales of ours. + +_[All have involuntarily taken off their caps, and +contemplate the breaking of day, absorbed in silence.]_ + +ROeSSEL. + +By this fair light which greeteth us, before +Those other nations, that, beneath us far, +In noisome cities pent, draw painful breath, +Swear we the oath of our confederacy! +A band of brothers true we swear to be, +Never to part in danger or in death! + +_[They repeat his words with three fingers raised.]_ + +We swear we will be free, as were our sires, +And sooner die than live in slavery! + +_[All repeat as before_.] + +We swear, to put our trust in God Most High, +And not to quail before the might of man! + +_[All repeat as before, and embrace one another_.] + +STAUFF. + +Now every man pursue his several way +Back to his friends, his kindred, and his home. +Let the herd winter up his flock, and gain +In secret friends for this great league of ours! +What for a time must be endured, endure, +And let the reckoning of the tyrants grow, +Till the great day arrive when they shall pay +The general and particular debt at once. +Let every man control his own just rage, +And nurse his vengeance for the public wrongs: +For he whom selfish interests now engage +Defrauds the general weal of what to it belongs. + +_[As they are going off in profound silence, in three +different directions, the orchestra plays a solemn air. The +empty scene remains open for some time, showing the rays of +the sun rising over the Glaciers.]_ + +[ILLUSTRATION: THE OATH ON THE RUeTLI As performed at the +Royal Theatre, Dresden 1906.] + + + * * * * * + + + +ACT III + + +SCENE I + + +_Court before_ TELL'S _house_. TELL _with an axe_. HEDWIG +_engaged in her domestic duties_. WALTER _and_ WILLIAM _in +the background, playing with a little cross-bow._ + +(WALTER Sings). + +With his cross-bow, and his quiver, + The huntsman speeds his way, +Over mountain, dale, and river, + At the dawning of the day. +As the eagle, on wild pinion, + Is the king in realms of air, +So the hunter claims dominion + Over crag and forest lair. +Far as ever bow can carry, + Thro' the trackless airy space, +All he sees he makes his quarry, + Soaring bird and beast of chase. + +WILLIAM _(runs forward)._ + +My string has snapt! Oh, father, mend it, do! + +TELL. + +Not I; a true-born archer helps himself. + +_[Boys retire_.] + +HEDWIG. + +The boys begin to use the bow betimes. + +TELL. + +'Tis early practice only makes the master. + +HEDWIG. + +Ah! Would to heaven they never learnt the art! + +TELL. + +But they shall learn it, wife, in all its points. +Whoe'er would carve an independent way +Through life, must learn to ward or plant a blow. + +HEDWIG. + +Alas, alas! and they will never rest +Contentedly at home. + +TELL. + + No more can I! +I was not framed by nature for a shepherd. +My restless spirit ever yearns for change; +I only feel the flush and joy of life +If I can start fresh quarry every day. + +HEDWIG. + +Heedless the while of all your wife's alarms, +As she sits watching through long hours at home. +For my soul sinks with terror at the tales +The servants tell about the risks you run; +Whene'er we part, my trembling heart forebodes +That you will ne'er come back to me again. +I see you on the frozen mountain steeps, +Missing, perchance, your leap from crag to crag. +I see the chamois, with a wild rebound, +Drag you down with him o'er the precipice. +I see the avalanche close o'er your head, +The treacherous ice give way, and you sink down +Entombed alive within its hideous gulf. +Ah! in a hundred varying forms does death +Pursue the Alpine huntsman on his course. +That way of life can surely ne'er be blessed, +Where life and limb are perill'd every hour. + +TELL. + +The man that bears a quick and steady eye, +And trusts in God, and his own lusty thews, +Passes, with scarce a scar, through every danger. +The mountain cannot awe the mountain child. + +_[Having finished his work he lays aside his tools.]_ + +And now, methinks, the door will hold awhile-- +Axe in the house oft saves the carpenter. + + _[Takes his cap.]_ + +HEDWIG. + +Whither away? + +TELL. + + To Altdorf, to your father. + +HEDWIG. + +You have some dangerous enterprise in view? +Confess! + +TELL. + + Why think you so? + +HEDWIG. + + Some scheme's on foot +Against the governors. There was a Diet +Held on the Rootli--that I know--and you +Are one of the confederacy, I'm sure. + +TELL. + +I was not there. Yet will I not hold back, +Whene'er my country calls me to her aid. + +HEDWIG. + +Wherever danger is, will you be placed. +On you, as ever, will the burden fall. + +[ILLUSTRATION] + +TELL. + +Each man shall have the post that fits his powers. + +HEDWIG. + +You took--ay, 'mid the thickest of the storm-- +The man of Unterwald across the lake. +'Tis marvel you escaped. Had you no thought +Of wife and children, then? + +TELL. + + Dear wife, I had; +And therefore saved the father for his children. + +HEDWIG. + +To brave the lake in all its wrath! 'Twas not +To put your trust in God! 'Twas tempting Him. + +TELL. + +Little will he that's over cautious do. + +HEDWIG. + +Yes, you've a kind and helping hand for all +But be in straits, and who will lend you aid? + +TELL. + +God grant I ne'er may stand in need of it! + + _[Takes up his cross-bow and arrows_.] + +HEDWIG. + +Why take your cross-bow with you? leave it here. + +TELL. + +I want my right hand, when I want my bow. + + _[The boys return_.] + +WALTER. + +Where, father, are you going? + +TELL. + + To grand-dad, boy-- +To Altdorf. Will you go? + +WALTER. Ay, that I will! + +HEDWIG. + +The Viceroy's there just now. Go not to Altdorf! + +TELL. + +He leaves today. + +HEDWIG. + + Then let him first be gone, +Cross not his path.--You know he bears us grudge. + +TELL. + +His ill-will cannot greatly injure me. +I do what's right, and care for no man's hate. + +HEDWIG. + +'Tis those who do what's right, whom most he hates. + +TELL. + +Because he cannot reach them. Me, I ween, +His knightship will be glad to leave in peace. + +HEDWIG. + +Ay!--Are you sure of that? + +TELL. + + Not long ago, +As I was hunting through the wild ravines +Of Shechenthal, untrod by mortal foot-- +There, as I took my solitary way +Along a shelving ledge of rocks, where 'twas +Impossible to step on either side; +For high above rose, like a giant wall, +The precipice's side, and far below +The Shechen thunder'd o'er its rifted bed;-- + +[_The boys press toward him, looking upon him_ _with excited +curiosity.]_ + +There, face to face, I met the Viceroy. He +Alone with me--and I myself alone-- +Mere man to man, and near us the abyss, +And when his lordship had perused my face, +And knew the man he had severely fined +On some most trivial ground, not long before, +And saw me, with my sturdy bow in hand, +Come striding toward him, his cheek grew pale, +His knees refused their office, and I thought +He would have sunk against the mountain side. +Then, touch'd with pity for him, I advanced, +Respectfully, and said "'Tis I, my lord." +But ne'er a sound could he compel his lips +To frame in answer. Only with his hand +He beckoned me in silence to proceed. +So I pass'd on, and sent his train to seek him. + +HEDWIG. + +He trembled, then, before you? Woe the while +You saw his weakness; that he'll ne'er forgive. + +TELL. + +I shun him, therefore, and he'll not seek me. + +HEDWIG. + +But stay away today. Go hunt instead! + +TELL. + +What do you fear? + +HEDWIG. + + I am uneasy. Stay! + +TELL. + +Why thus distress yourself without a cause? + +HEDWIG. + +Because there is no cause. Tell, Tell! stay here! + +TELL. + +Dear wife, I gave my promise I would go. + +HEDWIG. + +Must you--then go. But leave the boys with me. + +WALTER. + +No, mother dear, I go with father, I. + +HEDWIG. + +How, Walter! will you leave your mother then? + +WALTER. + +I'll bring you pretty things from grandpa. + + _[Exit with his father.]_ + +WILLIAM. + +Mother, I'll stay with you! + +HEDWIG _(embracing him_). + + Yes, yes! thou art +My own dear child. Thou'rt all that's left to me. + +_[She goes to the gate of the court and looks anxiously +after_ TELL _and her son for a considerable time.]_ + + +SCENE II + + +_A retired part of the Forest.-Brooks dashing in spray over +the rocks._ + +_Enter_ BERTHA _in a hunting dress. Immediately afterward_ +RUDENZ + +BERTHA. + +He follows me. Now, then, to speak my mind! + +RUDENZ _(entering hastily)._ + +At length, dear lady, we have met alone +In this wild dell, with rocks on every side, +No jealous eye can watch our interview. +Now let my heart throw off this weary silence. + +BERTHA. + +But are you sure they will not follow us? + +RUDENZ. + +See, yonder goes the chase! Now, then, or never! +I must avail me of this precious chance-- +Must hear my doom decided by thy lips, +Though it should part me from thy side forever. +Oh, do not arm that gentle face of thine +With looks so stern and harsh! Who--who am I, +That dare aspire so high, as unto thee? +Fame hath not stamp'd me yet; nor may I take +My place amid the courtly throng of knights, +That, crown'd with glory's lustre, woo thy smiles. +Nothing have I to offer but a heart +That overflows with truth and love for thee. + +BERTHA _(sternly and with severity)_. + +And dare you speak to me of love--of truth! +You, that are faithless to your nearest ties! +You, that are Austria's slave-bartered and sold +To her--an alien, and your country's tyrant! + +RUDENZ. + +How! This reproach from thee! Whom do I seek, +On Austria's side, my own beloved, but thee? + +BERTHA. + +Think you to find me in the traitor's ranks? +Now, as I live, I'd rather give my hand +To Gessler's self, all despot though he be, +Than to the Switzer who forgets his birth, +And stoops to be a tyrant's servile tool. + +RUDENZ. + +Oh heaven, what words are these? + +BERTHA. + + Say! what can lie +Nearer the good man's heart than friends and kindred! +What dearer duty to a noble soul +Than to protect weak suffering innocence, +And vindicate the rights of the oppress'd? +My very soul bleeds for your countrymen. +I suffer with them, for I needs must love them; +They are so gentle, yet so full of power; +They draw my whole heart to them. Every day +I look upon them with increased esteem. +But you, whom nature and your knightly vow +Have given them as their natural protector, +Yet who desert them and abet their foes +In forging shackles for your native land, +You--you incense and wound me to the core. +It tries me to the utmost not to hate you. + +RUDENZ. + +Is not my country's welfare all my wish? +What seek I for her but to purchase peace +'Neath Austria's potent sceptre? + +BERTHA. + + Bondage, rather! +You would drive freedom from the last stronghold +That yet remains for her upon the earth. +The people know their own true int'rests better: +Their simple natures are not warp'd by show. +But round your head a tangling net is wound. + +RUDENZ. + +Bertha, you hate me--you despise me! + +BERTHA. + + Nay! +And if I did, 'twere better for my peace. +But to see him despised and despicable-- +The man whom one might love-- + +RUDENZ. + + Oh, Bertha. You +Show me the pinnacle of heavenly bliss, +Then, in a moment, hurl me to despair! + +BERTHA. + +No, no! the noble is not all extinct +Within you. It but slumbers--I will rouse it. +It must have cost you many a fiery struggle +To crush the virtues of your race within you. +But, heaven be praised, 'tis mightier than yourself, +And you are noble in your own despite! + +RUDENZ. + +You trust me, then? Oh, Bertha, with thy love +What might I not become! + +BERTHA. + + Be only that +For which your own high nature destin'd you. +Fill the position you were born to fill;-- +Stand by your people and your native land, +And battle for your sacred rights! + +RUDENZ. + + Alas! +How can I win you--how can you be mine, +If I take arms against the Emperor? +Will not your potent kinsmen interpose +To dictate the disposal of your hand? + +BERTHA. + +All my estates lie in the Forest Cantons; +And I am free, when Switzerland is free. + +RUDENZ. + +Oh! what a prospect, Bertha, hast thou shown me! + +BERTHA. + +Hope not to win my hand by Austria's grace; +Fain would they lay their grasp on my estates +To swell the vast domains which now they hold. +The selfsame lust of conquest, that would rob +You of your liberty, endangers mine. +Ob, friend, I'm mark'd for sacrifice;--to be +The guerdon of some parasite, perchance! +They'll drag me hence to the Imperial court, +That hateful haunt of falsehood and intrigue, +And marriage bonds I loathe await me there. +Love, love alone--your love can rescue me. + +RUDENZ. + +And thou couldst be content, love, to live here? +In my own native land to be my own? +Oh, Bertha, all the yearnings of my soul +For this great world and its tumultuous strife-- +What were they, but a yearning after thee? +In glory's path I sought for thee alone, +And all my thirst of fame was only love. +But if in this calm vale thou canst abide +With me, and bid earth's pomps and pride adieu, +Then is the goal of my ambition won; +And the rough tide of the tempestuous world +May dash and rave around these firm-set hills! +No wandering wishes more have I to send +Forth to the busy scene that stirs beyond. +Then may these rocks, that girdle us, extend +Their giant walls impenetrably round, +And this sequestered happy vale alone +Look up to heaven, and be my paradise! + +BERTHA. + +Now art thou all my fancy dream'd of thee! +My trust has not been given to thee in vain. + +RUDENZ. + +Away, ye idle phantoms of my folly; +In mine own home I'll find my happiness. +Here, where the gladsome boy to manhood grew, +Where ev'ry brook, and tree, and mountain peak, +Teems with remembrances of happy hours, +In mine own native land thou wilt be mine. +Ah, I have ever loved it well, I feel +How poor without it were all earthly joys. + +BERTHA. + +Where should we look for happiness on earth, +If not in this dear land of innocence-- +Here, where old truth hath its familiar home? +Where fraud and guile are strangers, envy ne'er +Shall dim the sparkling fountain of our bliss, +And ever bright the hours shall o'er us glide. +There do I see thee, in true manly worth, +The foremost of the free and of thy peers, +Revered with homage pure and unconstrain'd, +Wielding a power that kings might envy thee. + +RUDENZ. + +And thee I see, thy sex's crowning gem, +With thy sweet woman's grace and wakeful love, +Building a heaven for me within my home, +And, as the spring-time scatters forth her flowers, +Adorning with thy charms my path of life, +And spreading joy and sunshine all around. + +BERTHA. + +And this it was, dear friend, that caused my grief, +To see thee blast this life's supremest bliss +With thine own hand. Ah! what had been my fate, +Had I been forced to follow some proud lord, +Some ruthless despot, to his gloomy keep! +Here are no keeps, here are no bastion'd walls +To part me from a people I can bless. + +RUDENZ. + +Yet, how to free myself; to loose the coils +Which I have madly twined around my head? + +BERTHA. + +Tear them asunder with a man's resolve. +Whate'er ensue, firm by thy people stand! +It is thy post by birth. + + [_Hunting horns are heard in the distance_.] + + But hark! The chase! +Farewell--'tis needful we should part--away! +Fight for thy land; thou fightest for thy love. +One foe fills all our souls with dread; the blow +That makes one free, emancipates us all. + + [_Exeunt severally_.] + +SCENE III + + +_A meadow near Altdorf. Trees in the foreground. At the back +of the stage a cap upon a pole. The prospect is bounded by +the Bannberg, which is surmounted by a snow-capped +mountain._ + +FRIESSHARDT _and_ LEUTHOLD _on guard_ + + +FRIESS. + +We keep our watch in vain. Zounds! not a soul +Will pass and do obeisance to the cap. +But yesterday the place swarm'd like a fair; +Now the old green looks like a desert, quite, +Since yonder scarecrow hung upon the pole. + +LEUTH. + +Only the vilest rabble show themselves, +And wave their tattered caps in mockery at us. +All honest citizens would sooner make +A weary circuit over half the town, +Than bend their backs before our master's cap. + +FRIESS. + +They were obliged to pass this way at noon, +As they were coming from the Council House. +I counted then upon a famous catch, +For no one thought of bowing to the cap, +But Roesselmann, the priest, was even with me: +Coming just then from some sick man, he takes +His stand before the pole--lifts up the Host-- +The Sacrist, too, must tinkle with his bell-- +When down they dropp'd on knee--myself and all-- +In reverence to the Host, but not the cap. + +LEUTH. + +Hark ye, companion, I've a shrewd suspicion, +Our post's no better than the pillory. +It is a burning shame, a trooper should +Stand sentinel before an empty cap, +And every honest fellow must despise us. +To do obeisance to a cap, too! Faith, +I never heard an order so absurd! + +FRIESS. + +Why not, an't please you, to an empty cap? +You've duck'd, I'm sure, to many an empty sconce. + +[HILDEGARD, MECHTHILD, _and_ ELSBETH _enter with their +children, and station themselves around the pole_.] + +LEUTH. + +And you are a time-serving sneak that takes +Delight in bringing honest folks to harm. +For my part, he that likes may pass the cap:-- +I'll shut my eyes and take no note of him. + +MECH. + +There hangs the Viceroy! Your obeisance, children! + +ELSBETH. + +I would to God he'd go, and leave his cap! +The country would be none the worse for it. + +FRIESSHARDT (_driving them away_). + +Out of the way! Confounded pack of gossips! +Who sent for you? Go, send your husbands here, +If they have courage to defy the order. + +[TELL _enters with his cross-bow, leading his son_ WALTER +_by the hand. They pass the hat without noticing it, and +advance to the front of the stage_.] + +WALTER (_pointing to the Bannberg_). + +Father, is't true, that on the mountain there +The trees, if wounded with a hatchet, bleed? + +TELL. + +Who says so, boy? + +WALTER. + +The master herdsman, father! +He tells us there's a charm upon the trees, +And if a man shall injure them, the hand +That struck the blow will grow from out the grave. + +TELL. + +There is a charm about them--that's the truth. +Dost see those glaciers yonder--those white horns-- +That seem to melt away into the sky? + +WALTER. + +They are the peaks that thunder so at night, +And send the avalanches down upon us. + +TELL. + +They are; and Altdorf long ago had been +Submerged beneath these avalanches' weight, +Did not the forest there above the town +Stand like a bulwark to arrest their fall. + +WALTER (_after musing a little_). + +And are there countries with no mountains, father? + +TELL. + +Yes, if we travel downward from our heights, +And keep descending where the rivers go, +We reach, a wide and level country, where +Our mountain torrents brawl and foam no more, +And fair large rivers glide serenely on. +All quarters of the heaven may there be scann'd +Without impediment. The corn grows there +In broad and lovely fields, and all the land +Is like a garden fair to look upon. + +WALTER. + +But, father, tell me, wherefore haste we not +Away to this delightful land, instead +Of toiling here and struggling as we do? + +TELL. + +The land is fair and bountiful as Heaven; +But they who till it never may enjoy +The fruits of what they sow. + +WALTER. + + Live they not free, +As you do, on the land their fathers left them? + +TELL. + +The fields are all the bishop's or the king's. + +WALTER. + +But they may freely hunt among the woods? + +TELL. + +The game is all the monarch's--bird and beast. + +WALTER. + +But they, at least, may surely fish the streams? + +TELL. + +Stream, lake, and sea, all to the king belong. + +WALTER. + +Who is this king, of whom they're so afraid? + +TELL. + +He is the man who fosters and protects them. + +WALTER. + +Have they not courage to protect themselves? + +TELL. + +The neighbor there dare not his neighbor trust. + +WALTER. + +I should want breathing room in such a land. +I'd rather dwell beneath the avalanches. + +TELL. + +'Tis better, child, to have these glacier peaks +Behind one's back than evil-minded men! + + [_They are about to pass on_.] + +WALTER. + +See, father, see the cap on yonder pole! + +TELL. + +What is the cap to us? Come, let's begone. + +[_As he is going_, FRIESSHARDT, _presenting his pike, stops +him_.] + +FRIESS. + +Stand, I command you, in the Emperor's name! + +TELL (_seizing the pike_). + +What would ye? Wherefore do ye stop me thus? + +FRIESS. + +You've broke the mandate, and with us must go. + +LEUTH. + +You have not done obeisance to the cap. + +TELL. + +Friend, let me go. + +FRIESS. + + Away, away to prison! + +WALTER. + +Father to prison? Help! + + [_Calling to the side scene_.] + + This way, you men! +Good people, help! They're dragging him to prison! + +[ROeSSELMANN _the Priest, and the_ SACRISTAN, _with three +other men, enter_.] + +SACRIST. + +What's here amiss? + +ROeSSELMANN. + + Why do you seize this man? + +FRIESS. + +He is an enemy of the King--a traitor. + +TELL (_seizing him with violence_). + +A traitor, I? + +ROeSSELMANN. + + Friend, thou art wrong. 'Tis Tell, +An honest man, and worthy citizen. + +WALTER (_descries_ FUeRST _and runs up to him_). + +Grandfather, help, they want to seize my father! + +FRIESS. Away to prison! + +FUeRST (_running in_). + + Stay, I offer bail. +For God's sake, Tell, what is the matter here? + + [MELCHTHAL _and_ STAUFFACHER _enter_.] + +LEUTH. + +He has contemn'd the Viceroy's sovereign power, +Refusing flatly to acknowledge it. + +STAUFF. + +Has Tell done this? + +MELCHTHAL. + + Villain, you know 'tis false! + +LEUTH. + +He has not made obeisance to the cap. + +FUeRST. + +And shall for this to prison? Come, my friend, +Take my security, and let him go. + +FRIESS. + +Keep your security for yourself--you'll need it. +We only do our duty. Hence with him. + +MELCHTHAL (_to the country people_). + +This is too bad--shall we stand by and see +Him dragged away before our very eyes? + +SACRIST. + +We are the strongest. Friends, endure it not, +Our countrymen will back us to a man. + +FRIESS. + +Who dares the governor's commands? + +OTHER THREE PEASANTS (_running in_). + +We'll help you. What's the matter? Down with them! + + [HILDEGARD, MECHTHILD _and_ ELSBETH _return_.] + +TELL. + +Go, go, good people, I can help myself. +Think you, had I a mind to use my strength, +These pikes of theirs should daunt me? + +MELCHTHAL (_to_ FRIESSHARDT). + +Only try-- +Try from our midst to force him, if you dare. + +FUeRST _and_ STAUFFACHER. + +Peace, peace, friends! + +FRIESSHARDT (_loudly_). + + Riot! Insurrection, ho! + + [_Hunting-horns without_.] + +WOMEN. + +The Governor! + +FRIESSHARDT _(raising his voice_). + + Rebellion! Mutiny! + +STAUFF. + +Roar till you burst, knave! + +ROeSSELMANN _and_ MELCHTHAL. + + Will you hold your tongue? + +FRIESSHARDT (_calling still louder_). + +Help, help, I say, the servants of the law! + +FUeRST. + +The Viceroy here! Then we shall smart for this! + +[_Enter_ GESSLER _on horseback, with a falcon on his wrist_: +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS, BERTHA, _and_ RUDENZ, _and a numerous +train of armed attendants, who form a circle of lances round +the whole stage_.] + +HARRAS. + +Room for the Viceroy! + +GESSLER. + + Drive the clowns apart. +Why throng the people thus? Who calls for help? + + [_General silence_.] + +[Illustration: TELL AND GESSLER As performed at the Royal +Theatre, Dresden, 1906.] + +Who was it? I _will_ know. + + [FRIESSHARDT _steps forward_.] + + And who art thou? +And why hast thou this man in custody? + + [_Gives his falcon to an attendant_.] + +FRIESS. + +Dread sir, I am a soldier of your guard, +And station'd sentinel beside the cap; +This man I apprehended in the act +Of passing it without obeisance due; +So as you ordered, I arrested him, +Whereupon to rescue him the people tried. + +GESSLER (_after a pause_). + +And do you, Tell, so lightly hold your King, +And me, who act as his vice-regent here, +That you refuse obeisance to the cap, +I hung aloft to test your loyalty? +I read in this a disaffected spirit. + +TELL. + +Pardon me, good my lord! The action sprung +From inadvertence--not from disrespect. +Were I discreet, I were not William Tell. +Forgive me now--I'll not offend again. + +GESSLER (_after a pause_). + +I hear, Tell, you're a master with the bow-- +From every rival bear the palm away. + +WALTER. + +That's very truth, sir! At a hundred yards +He'll shoot an apple for you off the tree. + +GESSLER. + +Is that boy thine, Tell? + +TELL. + + Yes, my gracious lord. + +GESSLER. + +Hast any more of them? + +TELL. + + Two boys, my lord. + +GESSLER. + +And, of the two, which dost thou love the most? + +TELL. + +Sir, both the boys are dear to me alike. + +GESSLER. + +Then, Tell, since at a hundred yards thou canst +Bring down the apple from the tree, thou shalt +Approve thy skill before me. Take thy bow-- +Thou hast it there at hand--make ready, then, +To shoot an apple from the stripling's head! +But take this counsel--look well to thine aim, +See, that thou hit'st the apple at the first, +For, shouldst thou miss, thy head shall pay the forfeit. + + [_All give signs of horror_.] + +TELL. + +What monstrous thing, my lord, is this you ask? +What I from the head of mine own child!--No, no! +It cannot be, kind sir, you meant not that-- +God, in His grace, forbid! You could not ask +A father seriously to do that thing! + +GESSLER. + +Thou art to shoot an apple from his head! +I do desire--command it so. + +TELL. + + What, I! +Level my cross-bow at the darling head +Of mine own child? No--rather let me die! + +GESSLER. + +Or thou must shoot, or with thee dies the boy. + +TELL. + +Shall I become the murderer of my child! +You have no children, sir--you do not know +The tender throbbings of a father's heart. + +GESSLER. + +How now, Tell, on a sudden so discreet? +I had been told thou wert a visionary-- +A wanderer from the paths of common men. +Thou lov'st the marvelous. So have I now +Cull'd out for thee a task of special daring. +Another man might pause and hesitate;-- +Thou dashest at it, heart and soul, at once. + +BERTHA. + +Oh, do not jest, my lord, with these poor souls! +See, how they tremble, and how pale they look, +So little used are they to hear thee jest. + +GESSLER. + +Who tells thee that I jest? + + [_Grasping a branch above his head_.] + + Here is the apple. +Room there, I say! And let him take his distance-- +Just eighty paces--as the custom is-- +Not an inch more or less! It was his boast +That at a hundred he could hit his man. +Now, archer, to your task, and look you miss not! + +HARRAS. + +Heavens! this grows serious--down, boy, on your knees, +And beg the governor to spare your life. + +FUeRST (_aside to_ MELCHTHAL, _who can scarcely restrain his +indignation_). + +Command yourself--be calm, I beg of you! + +BERTHA (_to the governor_). + + +Let this suffice you, sir! It is inhuman +To trifle with a father's anguish thus. +Although this wretched man had forfeited +Both life and limb for such a slight offence, +Already has he suffer'd tenfold death. +Send him away uninjured to his home; +He'll know thee well in future; and this hour +He and his children's children will remember. + +GESSLER. + +Open a way there--quick! Why this delay? +Thy life is forfeited; I might dispatch thee, +And see, I graciously repose thy fate +Upon the skill of thine own practised hand. +No cause has he to say his doom is harsh +Who's made the master of his destiny. +Thou boastest thine unerring aim. 'Tis well! +Now is the fitting time to show thy skill; +The mark is worthy and the prize is great. +To hit the bull's eye in the target;--that +Can many another do as well as thou; +But he, methinks, is master of his craft, +Who can at all times on his skill rely, +Nor lets his heart disturb or eye or hand. + +FUeRST. + +My lord, we bow to your authority; +But oh, let justice yield to mercy here. +Take half my property, nay, take it all, +But spare a father this unnatural doom! + +WALTER. + +Grandfather, do not kneel to that bad man! +Say, where am I to stand? I do not fear; +My father strikes the bird upon the wing, +And will not miss now when 'twould harm his boy! + +STAUFF. + +Does the child's innocence not touch your heart? + +ROeSSEL. + +Bethink you, sir, there is a God in heaven, +To whom you must account for all your deeds. + +GESSLER (_pointing to the boy_). + +Bind him to yonder lime tree! + +WALTER. + + What! Bind me? +No, I will not be bound! I will be still, +Still as a lamb--nor even draw my breath! +But if you bind me, I cannot be still. +Then I shall writhe and struggle with my bonds. + +HARRAS. + +But let your eyes at least be bandaged, boy! + +WALTER. + +And why my eyes? No! Do you think I fear +An arrow from my father's hand? Not I! +I'll wait it firmly, nor so much as wink! +Quick, father, show them what thy bow can do. +He doubts thy skill--he thinks to ruin us. +Shoot then and hit, though but to spite the tyrant! + +[_He goes to the lime tree, and an apple is placed on his +head_.] + +MELCHTHAL (_to the country people_). + +What! Is this outrage to be perpetrated +Before our very eyes? Where is our oath? + +STAUFF. + +Resist we cannot! Weapons we have none, +And see the wood of lances round us! See! + +MELCH. + +Oh! would to heaven that we had struck at once! +God pardon those who counsell'd the delay! + +GESSLER (_to_ TELL). + +Now to your task! Men bear not arms for naught. +To carry deadly tools is dangerous, +And on the archer oft his shaft recoils. +This right these haughty peasant churls assume +Trenches upon their master's privileges: +None should be armed but those who bear command. +It pleases you to carry bow and bolt;-- +Well--be it so. I will prescribe the mark. + +TELL (_bends the bow, and fixes the arrow_). + +A lane there! Room! + +STAUFFACHER. + + What, Tell? You would--no, no! +You shake--your hand's unsteady--your knees tremble. + +TELL (_letting the bow sink down_). + +There's something swims before mine eyes! + +WOMEN. + + Great Heaven! + +TELL. Release me from this shot! Here is my heart! + + [_Tears open his breast_.] + +Summon your troopers--let them strike me down! + +GESSLER. + +'Tis not thy life I want--I want the shot. +Thy talent's universal! Nothing daunts thee! +The rudder thou canst handle like the bow! +No storms affright thee, when a life's at stake. +Now, savior, help thyself--thou savest all! + +[TELL _stands fearfully agitated by contending emotions, his +hands moving convulsively, and his eyes turning alternately +to the governor and Heaven. Suddenly he takes a second arrow +from his quiver, and sticks it in his belt. The governor +notes all he does_.] + +WALTER (_beneath the lime tree_). + +Shoot, father, shoot! fear not! + +TELL. + + It must be! + + [_Collects himself and levels the bow_.] + +RUDENZ (_who all the while has been standing in a state of +violent excitement, and has with difficulty restrained +himself, advances_). + +My lord, you will not urge this matter further; +You will not. It was surely but a test. +You've gained your object. Rigor push'd too far +Is sure to miss its aim, however good, +As snaps the bow that's all too straitly bent. + +GESSLER. + +Peace, till your counsel's ask'd for! + +RUDENZ. + + I will speak! +Ay, and I dare! I reverence my king; +But acts like these must make his name abhorr'd. +He sanctions not this cruelty. I dare +Avouch the fact. And you outstep your powers +In handling thus my harmless countrymen. + +GESSLER. + +Ha! thou grow'st, bold, methinks! + +RUDENZ. + + I have been dumb +To all the oppressions I was doomed to see. +I've closed mine eyes to shut them from my view, +Bade my rebellious, swelling heart be still, +And pent its struggles down within my breast. +But to be silent longer, were to be +A traitor to my king and country both. + +BERTHA (_casting herself between him and the governor_). + +Oh Heavens! you but exasperate his rage! + +RUDENZ. + +My people I forsook--renounced my kindred-- +Broke all the ties of nature, that I might +Attach myself to you. I madly thought +That I should best advance the general weal +By adding sinews to the Emperor's power. +The scales have fallen from mine eyes--I see +The fearful precipice on which I stand. +You've led my youthful judgment far astray-- +Deceived my honest heart. With best intent, +I had well-nigh achiev'd my country's ruin. + +GESSLER. + +Audacious boy, this language to thy lord? + +RUDENZ. + +The Emperor is my lord, not you! I'm free +As you by birth, and I can cope with you +In every virtue that beseems a knight. +And if you stood not here in that King's name, +Which I respect e'en where 'tis most abused, +I'd throw my gauntlet down, and you should give +An answer to my gage in knightly sort. +Ay, beckon to your troopers! Here I stand; +But not like these + + [_Pointing to the people_.] + + --unarmed. I have a sword, +And he that stirs one step-- + +STAUFFACHER (_exclaims_). + The apple's down! + +[_While the attention of the crowd has been directed to the +spot where_ BERTHA _had cast herself between_ RUDENZ _and_ +GESSLER, TELL _has shot_.] + +ROeSSEL. + +The boy's alive! + +MANY VOICES. + +The apple has been struck! + +[WALTER FUeRST _staggers and is about to fall_. BERTHA +_supports him_.] + +GESSLER (_astonished_). + +How? Has he shot? The madman! + +BERTHA. + + Worthy father! +Pray you, compose yourself. The boy's alive. + +WALTER (_runs in with the apple_). + +Here is the apple, father! Well I knew +You would not harm your boy. + +[TELL _stands with his body bent forward, as if still +following the arrow. His bow drops from his hand. When he +sees the boy advancing, he hastens to meet him with open +arms, and embracing him passionately sinks down with him +quite exhausted. All crowd round them deeply affected_.] + +BERTHA. + + Oh, ye kind Heavens! + +FUeRST (_to father and son_). + +My children, my dear children! + +STAUFFACHER. + +God be praised! + +LEUTH. + +Almighty powers! That was a shot indeed! +It will be talked of to the end of time. + +HARRAS. + +This feat of Tell, the archer, will be told +Long as these mountains stand upon their base. + + [_Hands the apple to_ GESSLER.] + +GESSLER. + +By Heaven! the apple's cleft right through the core. +It was a master shot, I must allow. + +ROeSSEL. + +The shot was good. But woe to him who drove +The man to tempt his God by such a feat! + +STAUFF. + +Cheer up, Tell, rise! You've nobly freed yourself, +And now may go in quiet to your home. + +ROeSSEL. + +Come, to the mother let us bear her son! + + [_They are about to lead him off_.] + +GESSLER. + +A word, Tell. + +TELL. Sir, your pleasure? + +GESSLER. + + Thou didst place +A second arrow in thy belt--nay, nay! +I saw it well. Thy purpose with it? Speak! + +TELL (_confused_). + +It is a custom with all archers, sir. + +GESSLER. + +No, Tell, I cannot let that answer pass. +There was some other motive, well I know. +Frankly and cheerfully confess the truth;-- +Whate'er it be, I promise thee thy life. +Wherefore the second arrow? + +TELL. + + Well, my lord, +Since you have promised not to take my life, +I will, without reserve, declare the truth. + +[_He draws the arrow from his belt, and fixes his eyes +sternly upon the governor_.] + +If that my hand had struck my darling child, +This second arrow I had aimed at you, +And, be assured, I should not then have miss'd. + +GESSLER. + +Well, Tell, I promised thou shouldst have thy life; +I gave my knightly word, and I will keep it. +Yet, as I know the malice of thy thoughts, +I'll have thee carried hence, and safely penn'd, +Where neither sun nor moon shall reach thine eyes. +Thus from thy arrows I shall be secure. +Seize on him, guards, and bind him! + + [_They bind him_.] + +STAUFFACHER. + + How, my lord-- +How can you treat in such a way a man +On whom God's hand has plainly been reveal'd? + +GESSLER. + +Well, let us see if it will save him twice! +Remove him to my ship; I'll follow straight; +At Kuessnacht I will see him safely lodged. + +ROeSSEL. + +You dare not do't. Nor durst the Emperor's self +So violate our dearest chartered rights. + +GESSLER. + +Where are they? Has the Emp'ror confirm'd them? +He never has. And only by obedience +May you that favor hope to win from him. +You are all rebels 'gainst the Emp'ror's power-- +And bear a desperate and rebellious spirit. +I know you all--I see you through and through. +Him do I single from amongst you now, +But in his guilt you all participate. +If you are wise, be silent and obey! + +[_Exit, followed by_ BERTHA, RUDENZ, HARRAS, _and +attendants_. FRIESSHARDT _and_ LEUTHOLD _remain_.] + +FUeRST (_in violent anguish_). + +All's over now! He is resolved to bring +Destruction on myself and all my house. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ TELL). + +Oh, why did you provoke the tyrant's rage? + +TELL. + +Let him be calm who feels the pangs I felt. + +STAUFF. + +Alas! alas! Our every hope is gone. +With you we all are fettered and enchain'd. + +COUNTRY PEOPLE (_surrounding_ TELL). + +Our last remaining comfort goes with you! + +LEUTHOLD (_approaching him_). + +I'm sorry for you, Tell, but must obey. + +TELL. + +Farewell! + +WALTER TELL (_clinging to him in great agony_). + +Oh, father, father, father dear! + +TELL (_pointing to Heaven_). + +Thy father is on high--appeal to Him! + +STAUFF. + +Have you no message, Tell, to send your wife? + +TELL (_clasping the boy passionately to his breast_). + +The boy's uninjured; God will succor me! + +[_Tears himself suddenly away, and follows the soldiers of +the guard_.] + + + +ACT IV + + +SCENE I + + +_Eastern shore of the Lake of Lucerne; rugged and singularly +shaped rocks close the prospect to the west. The lake is +agitated, violent roaring and rushing of wind, with thunder +and lightning at intervals._ + +KUNZ OF GERSAU, FISHERMAN _and_ BOY + +KUNZ. + +I saw it with these eyes! Believe me, friend, +It happen'd all precisely as I've said. + +FISHER. + +How! Tell a prisoner, and to Kuessnacht borne? +The best man in the land, the bravest arm, +Had we for liberty to strike a blow! + +KUNZ. + +The Viceroy takes him up the lake in person: +They were about to go on board, as I +Started from Flueelen; but the gathering storm, +That drove me here to land so suddenly, +May well have hindered them from setting out. + +FISHER. + +Our Tell in chains, and in the Viceroy's power! +O, trust me, Gessler will entomb him where +He never more shall see the light of day; +For, Tell once free, the tyrant well might dread +The just revenge of one so deeply wrong'd. + +KUNZ. + +The old Landamman, too--von Attinghaus-- +They say, is lying at the point of death. + +FISHER. + +Then the last anchor of our hopes gives way! +He was the only man that dared to raise +His voice in favor of the people's rights. + +KUNZ. + +The storm grows worse and worse. So, fare ye well! +I'll go and seek out quarters in the village. +There's not a chance of getting off today. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISHER. + +Tell dragg'd to prison, and the Baron dead! +Now, tyranny, exalt thy brazen front-- +Throw every shame aside! Truth's voice is dumb! +The eye that watch'd for us, in darkness closed, +The arm that should have struck thee down, in chains! + +BOY. + +'Tis hailing hard--come, let us to the hut! +This is no weather to be out in, father! + +FISHER. + +Rage on, ye winds! Ye lightnings, flash your fires! +Burst, ye swollen clouds! Ye cataracts of Heaven, +Descend, and drown the country! In the germ +Destroy the generations yet unborn! +Ye savage elements, be lords of all! +Return, ye bears: ye ancient wolves, return +To this wide howling waste! The land is yours. +Who would live here, when liberty is gone! + +BOY. + +Hark! How the wind whistles, and the whirlpool roars, +I never saw a storm so fierce as this! + +FISHER. + +To level at the head of his own child! +Never had father such command before. +And shall not nature, rising in wild wrath, +Revolt against the deed? I should not marvel, +Though to the lake these rocks should bow their heads, +Though yonder pinnacles, yon towers of ice, +That, since creation's dawn, have known no thaw, +Should, from their lofty summits, melt away +Though yonder mountains, yon primeval cliffs, +Should topple down, and a new deluge whelm +Beneath its waves all living men's abodes! + + [_Bells heard_.] + +BOY. + +Hark, they are ringing on the mountain, yonder! +They surely see some vessel in distress. +And toll the bell that we may pray for it. + + [_Ascends a rock_.] + +FISHER. + +Woe to the bark that now pursues its course, +Rock'd in the cradle of these storm-tost waves! +Nor helm nor steersman here can aught avail; +The storm is master. Man is like a ball, +Toss'd 'twixt the winds and billows. Far or near, +No haven offers him its friendly shelter! +Without one ledge to grasp, the sheer smooth rocks +Look down inhospitably on his despair, +And only tender him their flinty breasts. + +BOY (_calling from above_). + +Father, a ship: from Flueelen bearing down. + +FISHER. + +Heaven pity the poor wretches! When the storm +Is once entangled in this strait of ours, +It rages like some savage beast of prey, +Struggling against its cage's iron bars! +Howling, it seeks an outlet--all in vain; +For the rocks hedge it round on every side, +Walling the narrow gorge as high as Heaven. + + [_He ascends a cliff_.] + +BOY. + +It is the Governor of Uri's ship; +By its red poop I know it, and the flag. + +FISHER. + +Judgments of Heaven! Yes, it is he himself, +It is the Governor! Yonder he sails, +And with him bears the burden of his crimes. +The avenger's arm has not been slow to strike! +Now over him he knows a mightier lord. +These waves yield no obedience to his voice. +These rocks bow not their heads before his cap. +Boy, do not pray; stay not the Judge's arm! + +BOY. + +I pray not for the Governor, I pray +For Tell who's with him there on board the ship. + +FISHER. + +Alas, ye blind, unreasoning elements! +Must ye, in punishing one guilty head, +Destroy the vessel and the pilot too? + +BOY. + +See, see, they've clear'd the Buggisgrat;[56] but now +The blast, rebounding from the Devil's Minster,[56] +Has driven them back on the Great Axenberg.[56] +I cannot see them now. + +FISHERMAN. + + The Hakmesser[56] +Is there, that's founder'd many a gallant ship. +If they should fail to double that with skill, +Their bark will go to pieces on the rocks +That hide their jagged peaks below the lake. +The best of pilots, boy, they have on board. +If man could save them, Tell is just the man, +But he is manacled both hand and foot. + +[_Enter_ WILLIAM TELL, _with his cross-bow. He enters +precipitately, looks wildly round, and testifies the most +violent agitation. When he reaches the centre of the stage, +he throws himself upon his knees, and stretches out his +hands, first toward the earth, then toward Heaven_.] + +BOY (_observing him_). + +See, father! A man on's knees, who can it be? + +FISHER. + +He clutches at the earth with both his hands, +And looks as though he were beside himself. + +BOY (_advancing_). + +What do I see? Come father, come and look! + +FISHERMAN (_approaches_). + +Who is it? God in Heaven! What! William Tell! +How came you hither? Speak, Tell! + +BOY. + + Were you not +In yonder ship, a prisoner, and in chains? + +FISHER. + +Were they not carrying you to Kuessnacht, Tell? + +TELL _(rising)._ + +I am released. + +FISHERMAN _and_ BOY. + + Released, oh miracle! + +BOY. + +Whence came you here + +TELL. + + From yonder vessel! + +FISHERMAN. + + What? + +BOY. + +Where is the Viceroy? + +TELL. + +Drifting on the waves. + +FISHER. + +Is't possible? But you! How are you here? +How 'scaped you from your fetters and the +storm? + +TELL. + +By God's most gracious providence. Attend. + +FISHERMAN _and_ BOY. + + Say on, say on! + +TELL. + + You know what passed at Altdorf. + +FISHER. + +I do--say on! + +TELL. + + How I was seized and bound, +And order'd by the governor to Kuessnacht. + +FISHER. + +And how at Flueelen he embarked with you. +All this we know. Say, how have you escaped? + +TELL. + +I lay on deck, fast bound with cords, disarm'd, +In utter hopelessness. I did not think +Again to see the gladsome light of day, +Nor the dear faces of my wife and boys, +And eyed disconsolate the waste of waters.-- + +FISHER. + +Oh, wretched man! + +TELL. + +Then we put forth; the Viceroy, +Rudolph der Harras, and their suite. My bow +And quiver lay astern beside the helm; +And just as we had reached the corner, near +The little Axen,[57] Heaven ordain'd it so, +That from the Gotthardt's gorge, a hurricane +Swept down upon us with such headlong force +That every oarsman's heart within him sank, +And all on board look'd for a watery grave. +Then heard I one of the attendant train, +Turning to Gessler, in this wise accost him: +"You see our danger, and your own, my lord, +And that we hover on the verge of death. +The boatmen there are powerless from fear, +Nor are they confident what course to take;-- +Now, here is Tell, a stout and fearless man, +And knows to steer with more than common skill; +How if we should avail ourselves of him +In this emergency?" The Viceroy then +Address'd me thus: "If thou wilt undertake +To bring us through this tempest safely, Tell, +I might consent to free thee from thy bonds." +I answer'd, "Yes, my lord; so help me God, +I'll see what can be done." On this they loosed +The cords that bound me, and I took my place +Beside the helm, and steered as best I could, +Yet ever eyed my shooting gear askance, +And kept a watchful eye upon the shore, +To find some point where I might leap to land: +And when I had descried a shelving crag, +That jutted, smooth atop into the lake-- + +FISHER. + +I know it. At the foot of the Great Axen; +So steep it looks, I never could have dreamt +That from a boat a man could leap to it. + +TELL. + +I bade the men to row with all their force +Until we came before the shelving ledge. +For there, I said, the danger will be past! +Stoutly they pull'd, and soon we near'd the point; +One prayer to God for His assisting grace, +And, straining every muscle, I brought round +The vessel's stern close to the rocky wall; +Then snatching up my weapons, with a bound +I swung myself upon the flattened shelf, +And with my feet thrust off, with all my might, +The puny bark into the watery hell. +There let it drift about, as Heaven ordains! +Thus am I here, deliver'd from the might +Of the dread storm, and man's more dreadful still. + +FISHER. + +Tell, Tell, the Lord has manifestly wrought +A miracle in thy behalf! I scarce +Can credit my own eyes. But tell me, now, +Whither you propose to betake yourself? +For you will be in peril, should perchance +The Viceroy 'scape this tempest with his life. + +TELL. + +I heard him say, as I lay bound on board, +At Brunnen he proposed to disembark, +And, crossing Schwytz, convey me to his castle. + +FISHER. + +Means he to go by land? + +TELL. + +So he intends. + +FISHER. + +Oh, then conceal yourself without delay! +Not twice will Heaven release you from his grasp. + +TELL. + +Which is the nearest way to Arth and Kuessnacht? + +FISHER. + +The public road leads by the way of Steinen, +But there's a nearer road, and more retired, +That goes by Lowerz, which my boy can show you. + +TELL (_gives his hand_). + +May Heaven reward your kindness! Fare ye well. + + [_As he is going, he comes back_.] + +Did not you also take the oath at Rootli? +I heard your name, methinks. + +FISHERMAN. + + Yes, I was there, +And took the oath of the confederacy. + +TELL. + +Then do me this one favor: speed to Buerglen-- +My wife is anxious at my absence--tell her +That I am, free, and in secure concealment. + +FISHER. + +But whither shall I tell her you have fled? + +TELL. + +You'll find her father with her, and some more, +Who took the oath with you upon the Rootli; +Bid them resolute and strong of heart-- +For Tell is free and master of his arm; +They shall hear further news of me ere long. + +FISHER. + +What have you, then, in view? Come, tell me frankly! + +TELL. + +When once 'tis _done_, 'twill be in every mouth. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISHER. + +Show him the way, boy. Heaven be his support! +Whate'er he has resolved, he'll execute. + + [_Exit_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_Baronial mansion of Attinghausen. The_ BARON _upon a couch +dying_. WALTER FUeRST, STAUFFACHER, MELCHTHAL, _and_ +BAUMGARTEN _attending round him_, WALTER TELL _kneeling +before the dying man_. + +FUeRST. + +All now is over with him. He is gone. + +STAUFF. + +He lies not like one dead. The feather, see, +Moves on his lips! His sleep is very calm, +And on his features plays a placid smile. + +[BAUMGARTEN _goes to the door and speaks with some one_.] + +FUeRST. + +Who's there? + +BAUMGARTEN (_returning_). + + Tell's wife, your daughter, she insists +That she must speak with you, and see her boy. + + [WALTER TELL _rises_.] + +FUeRST. + +I who need comfort--can I comfort her? +Does every sorrow centre on my head? + +HEDWIG (_forcing her way in_). + +Where is my child? unhand me! I must see him. + +STAUFF. + +Be calm! Reflect, you're in the house of death! + +HEDWIG (_falling upon her boy's neck_). + +My Walter! Oh, he yet is mine! + +WALTER. + +Dear mother! + +HEDWIG. + +And, is it surely so? Art thou unhurt? + + [_Gazing at him with anxious tenderness_.] + +And is it possible he aim'd at thee? +How could he do it? Oh, he has no heart-- +And he could wing an arrow at his child! + +FUeRST. + +His soul was rack'd with anguish when he did it. +No choice was left him but to shoot or die! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, if he had a father's heart, he would +Have sooner perish'd by a thousand deaths! + +STAUFF. + +You should be grateful for God's gracious care, +That ordered things so well. + +HEDWIG. + + Can I forget +What might have been the issue. God in Heaven, +Were I to live for centuries, I still +Should see my boy tied up--his father's mark-- +And still the shaft would quiver in my heart. + +MELCH. + +You know not how the Viceroy taunted him! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, ruthless heart of man! Offend his pride, +And reason in his breast forsakes her seat; +In his blind wrath he'll stake upon a cast +A child's existence, and a mother's heart! + +BAUM. + +Is then your husband's fate not hard enough, +That you embitter it by such reproaches? +Have you no feeling for his sufferings? + +HEDWIG (_turning to him and gazing full upon him_). + +Hast thou tears only for thy friend's distress? +Say, where were you when he--my noble Tell-- +Was bound in chains? Where was your friendship then? +The shameful wrong was done before your eyes; +Patient you stood, and let your friend be dragg'd, +Ay, from your very hands. Did ever Tell +Act thus to you? Did he stand whining by, +When on your heels the Viceroy's horsemen press'd, +And full before you roared the storm-toss'd lake? +Oh not with idle tears his pity show'd! +Into the boat he sprang, forgot his home, +His wife, his children, and delivered thee! + +FUeRST. + +It had been madness to attempt his rescue, +Unarmed, and few in numbers as we were. + +HEDWIG (_casting herself upon his bosom_). + +Oh, father, and thou, too, hast lost my Tell! +The country--all have lost him! All lament +His loss; and, oh, how he must pine for us! +Heaven keep his soul from sinking to despair! +No friend's consoling voice can penetrate +His dreary dungeon walls. Should he fall sick! +Ah! In the vapors of the murky vault +He must fall sick. Even as the Alpine rose +Grows pale and withers in the swampy air, +There is no life for him but in the sun +And in the breath of Heaven's fresh-blowing airs. +Imprison'd! Liberty to him is breath; +He cannot live in the rank dungeon air! + +STAUFF. + +Pray you be calm! And hand in hand we'll all +Combine to burst his prison doors. + +HEDWIG. + + He gone, +What have you power to do? While Tell was free, +There still, indeed, was hope--weak innocence +Had still a friend, and the oppress'd a stay. +Tell saved you all! You cannot all combined +Release him from his cruel prison bonds. + + [_The_ BARON _wakes_.] + +BAUM. + +Hush, hush! He starts! + +ATTINGHAUSEN (_sitting up_). + + Where is he? + +STAUFFACHER. + + Who? + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + He leaves me-- +In my last moments he abandons me. + +STAUFF. + +He means his nephew. Have they sent for him? + +FUeRST. + +He has been summoned. Cheer'ly, sir! Take comfort! +He has found his heart at last, and is our own. + +ATTING. + +Say, has he spoken for his native land? + +STAUFF. + +Ay, like a hero! + +ATTINGHAUSEN. + + Wherefore comes he not, +That he may take my blessing ere I die? +I feel my life fast ebbing to a close. + +STAUFF. + +Nay, talk not thus, dear sir! This last short sleep +Has much refresh'd you, and your eye is bright. + +ATTING. + +Life is but pain, and that has left me now; +My sufferings, like my hopes, have pass'd away. + + [_Observing the boy_.] + + What boy is that? + +FUeRST. + + Bless him. Oh, good my lord! +He is my grandson, and is fatherless. + +[HEDWIG _kneels with the boy before the dying man_.] + +ATTING. + +And fatherless--I leave you all, ay, all! +Oh, wretched fate, that these old eyes should see +My country's ruin, as they close in death! +Must I attain the utmost verge of life, +To feel my hopes go with me to the grave? + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FUeRST). + +Shall he depart 'mid grief and gloom like this? +Shall not his parting moments be illumed +By hope's inspiring beams? My noble lord, +Raise up your drooping spirit! We are not +Forsaken quite--past all deliverance. + +ATTING. + +Who shall deliver you? + +FUeRST. + + Ourselves. For know, +The Cantons three are to each other pledged, +To hunt the tyrants from the land. The league +Has been concluded, and a sacred oath +Confirms our union. Ere another year +Begins its circling course--the blow shall fall. +In a free land your ashes shall repose. + +ATTING. + +The league concluded! Is it really so? + +MELCH. + +On one day shall the Cantons rise together. +All is prepared to strike--and to this hour +The secret closely kept, though hundreds share it; +The ground is hollow 'neath the tyrants' feet; +Their days of rule are number'd, and ere long +No trace will of their hateful sway be left. + +ATTING. + +Ay, but their castles, how to master them? + +MELCH. + +On the same day they, too, are doom'd to fall. + +ATTING. + +And are the nobles parties to this league? + +STAUFF. + +We trust to their assistance, should we need it; +As yet the peasantry alone have sworn. + +ATTING. (_raising himself up in great astonishment_). + +And have the peasantry dared such a deed +On their own charge, without the nobles' aid-- +Relied so much on their own proper strength? +Nay then, indeed, they want our help no more; +We may go down to death cheer'd by the thought +That after us the majesty of man +Will live, and be maintain'd by other hands. + +[_He lays his hand upon the head of the child who is +kneeling before him_.] + +From this boy's head, whereon the apple lay, +Your new and better liberty shall spring; +The old is crumbling down--the times are changing-- +And from the ruins blooms a fairer life. + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ FUeRST). + +See, see, what splendor streams around his eye! +This is not Nature's last expiring flame, +It is the beam of renovated life. + +ATTING. + +From their old towers the nobles are descending, +And swearing in the towns the civic oath. +In Uechtland and Thurgau the work's begun; +The noble Berne lifts her commanding head, +And Freyburg is a stronghold of the free; +The stirring Zurich calls her guilds to arms;-- +And now, behold!--the ancient might of kings +Is shiver'd 'gainst her everlasting walls. + +[_He speaks what follows with a prophetic tone; his +utterance rising into enthusiasm_.] + +I see the princes and their haughty peers, +Clad all in steel, come striding on to crush +A harmless shepherd race with mailed hand. +Desp'rate the conflict: 'tis for life or death; +And many a pass will tell to after years +Of glorious victories sealed in foemen's blood.[58] +The peasant throws himself with naked breast, +A willing victim on their serried spears; +They yield--the flower of chivalry's cut down, +And Freedom waves her conquering banner high. + +[_Grasps the hands of_ WALTER FUeRST _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +Hold fast together, then--forever fast! +Let freedom's haunts be one in heart and mind! +Set watches on your mountain tops, that league +May answer league, when comes the hour to strike. +Be one--be one--be one-- + +[_He falls back upon the cushion. His lifeless hands +continue to grasp those of_ FUeRST _and_ STAUFFACHER, _who +regard him for some moments in silence, and then retire, +overcome with sorrow. Meanwhile the servants have quietly +pressed into the chamber, testifying different degrees of +grief. Some kneel down beside him and weep on his body: +while this scene is passing, the castle bell tolls_.] + +RUDENZ (_entering hurriedly_). + +Lives he? Oh say, can he still hear my voice? + +[Illustration: DEATH OF ATTINGHAUSEN _From the Painting by +Wilhelm von Kaulbach_] + +FUeRST (_averting his face_). + +You are our seignior and protector now; +Henceforth this castle bears another name. + +RUDENZ (_gazing at the body with deep emotion_). + +Oh, God! Is my repentance, then, too late? +Could he not live some few brief moments more, +To see the change that has come o'er my heart? +Oh, I was deaf to his true counselling voice, +While yet he walked on earth. Now he is gone-- +Gone, and for ever--leaving me the debt-- +The heavy debt I owe him--undischarged! +Oh, tell me! did he part in anger with me? + +STAUFF. + +When dying, he was told what you had done, +And bless'd the valor that inspired your words! + +RUDENZ (_kneeling down beside the dead body_). + +Yes, sacred relics of a man beloved! +Thou lifeless corpse! Here, on thy death-cold hand, +Do I abjure all foreign ties for ever! +And to my country's cause devote myself. +I am a Switzer, and will act as one, +With my whole heart and soul. + + [_Rises_.] + + Mourn for our friend, +Our common parent, yet be not dismay'd! +'Tis not alone his lands that I inherit-- +His heart--his spirit, have devolved on me; +And my young arm shall execute the task, +Which in his hoary age he could not pay. +Give me your hands, ye venerable sires! +Thine, Melchthal, too! Nay, do not hesitate, +Nor from me turn distrustfully away. +Accept my plighted vow--my knightly oath! + +FUeRST. + +Give him your hands, my friends! A heart like his, +That sees and owns its error, claims our trust. + +MELCH. + +You ever held the peasantry in scorn; +What surety have we, that you mean us fair? + +RUDENZ. + +Oh, think not of the error of my youth! + +STAUFFACHER (_to_ MELCHTHAL). + +Be one! They were our father's latest words. +See they be not forgotten! + +MELCHTHAL. + + Take my hand-- +peasant's hand--and with it, noble sir, +The gage and the assurance of a man! +Without us, sir, what would the nobles be? +Our order is more ancient, too, than yours! + +RUDENZ. + +I honor it--will shield it with my sword! + +MELCH. + +The arm, my lord, that tames the stubborn earth, +And makes its bosom blossom with increase, +Can also shield its owner's breast at need. + +RUDENZ. + +Then you shall shield my breast, and I will yours, +Thus each be strengthen'd by the other's strength. +Yet wherefore talk we, while our native land +Is still to alien tyranny a prey? +First let us sweep the foemen from the soil, +Then reconcile our difference in peace! + + [_After a moment's pause_.] + +How! You are silent! Not a word for me? +And have I yet no title to your trust?-- +Then must I force my way, despite your will, +Into the League you secretly have form'd. +You've held a Diet on the Rootli--I +Know this--know all that was transacted there; +And though not trusted with your secret, I +Have kept it closely like a sacred pledge. +Trust me--I never was my country's foe, +Nor would I ever have against you stood! +Yet you did wrong--to put your rising off. +Time presses! We must strike, and swiftly too! +Already Tell is lost through your delay. + +STAUFF. + +We swore that we should wait till Christmastide. + +RUDENZ. + +I was not there--I did not take the oath. +If you delay, I will not! + +MELCHTHAL. + + What! You would-- + +RUDENZ. + +I count me now among the country's chiefs, +And my first duty is to guard your rights. + +FUeRST. + +Your nearest and your holiest duty is +Within the earth to lay these dear remains. + +RUDENZ. + +When we have set the country free, we'll place +Our fresh victorious wreaths upon his bier. +Oh, my dear friends, 'tis not your cause alone!-- +with the tyrants have a cause to fight, +That more concerns myself. My Bertha's gone, +Has disappear'd--been carried off by stealth-- +Stolen from amongst us by their ruffian hands! + +STAUFF. + +So fell an outrage has the tyrant dared +Against a lady free and nobly born? + +RUDENZ. + +Alas! my friends, I promised help to you, +And I must first implore it for myself! +She that I love, is stolen--is forced away, +And who knows where she's by the tyrant hid, +Or with what outrages his ruffian crew +May force her into nuptials she detests? +Forsake me not!--Oh, help me to her rescue! +She loves you! Well, oh well, has she deserved, +That all should rush to arms in her behalf! + +STAUFF. + +What course do you propose? + +RUDENZ. + + Alas! I know not. +In the dark mystery that shrouds her fate-- +In the dread agony of this suspense, +Where I can grasp at naught of certainty-- +One single ray of comfort beams upon me. +From out the ruins of the tyrant's power +Alone can she be rescued from the grave. +Their strongholds must be levell'd, every one, +Ere we can penetrate her dungeon walls. + +MELCH. + +Come, lead us on! We follow! Why defer +Until tomorrow what today may do? +Tell's arm was free when we at Rootli swore. +This foul enormity was yet undone. +And change of circumstance brings change of vow; +Who such a coward as to waver still? + +RUDENZ (_to_ WALTER FUeRST). + +Meanwhile to arms, and wait in readiness +The fiery signal on the mountain tops! +For swifter than a boat can scour the lake +Shall you have tidings of our victory; +And when you see the welcome flames ascend, +Then, like the lightning, swoop upon the foe, +And lay the despots and their creatures low! + + +SCENE III + + +_The pass near Kuessnacht, sloping down from behind, with +rocks on either side. The travelers are visible upon the +heights, before they appear on the stage. Rocks all around +the stage. Upon one of the foremost a projecting cliff +overgrown with brushwood._ + +TELL (_enters with his cross-bow_). + +Through this ravine he needs must come. There is +No other way to Kuessnacht. Here I'll do it! +The ground is everything I could desire. +Yon elder bush will hide me from his view, +And from that point my shaft is sure to hit. +The straitness of the gorge forbids pursuit. +Now, Gessler, balance thine account with Heaven! +Thou must away from earth--thy sand is run. +Quiet and harmless was the life I led, +My bow was bent on forest game alone; +No thoughts of murder rested on my soul. +But thou hast scared me from my dream of peace; +The milk of human kindness thou hast turn'd +To rankling poison in my breast, and made +Appalling deeds familiar to my soul. +He who could make his own child's head his mark, +Can speed his arrow to his foeman's heart. +My boys, poor innocents, my loyal wife, +Must be protected, tyrant, from thy rage! +When last I drew my bow--with trembling hand-- +And thou, with fiendishly remorseless glee +Forced me to level at my own boy's head, +When I, imploring pity, writhed before thee, +Then in the anguish of my soul, I vow'd +A fearful oath, which met God's ear alone, +That when my bow next wing'd an arrow's flight, +Its aim should be thy heart. The vow I made, +Amid the hellish torments of that moment, +I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it. +Thou art my lord, my Emperor's delegate; +Yet would the Emperor not have stretch'd his power +So far as thou halt done. He sent thee here +To deal forth law--stern law--for he is wroth, +But not to wanton with unbridled will +In every cruelty, with fiend-like joy:-- +There lives a God to punish and avenge. +Come forth, thou bringer once of bitter pangs, +My precious jewel now--my chiefest treasure-- +A mark I'll set thee, which the cry of grief +Could never penetrate--but thou shalt pierce it-- +And thou, my trusty bow-string, that so oft +For sport has served me faithfully and well, +Desert me not in this dread hour of need-- +Only be true this once, my own good cord, +That hast so often wing'd the biting shaft:-- +For shouldst thou fly successless from my hand, +I have no second to send after thee. + + [_Travelers pass over the stage_.] + +I'll sit me down upon this bench of stone, +Hewn for the way-worn traveler's brief repose-- +For here there is no home. Men hurry past +Each other, with quick step and careless look, +Nor stay to question of their grief. Here goes +The merchant, all anxiety--the pilgrim, +With scantly furnished scrip--the pious monk, +The scowling robber, and the jovial player, +The carrier with his heavy-laden horse +That comes to us from the far haunts of men; +For every road conducts to the world's end. +They all push onward--every man intent +On his own several business--mine is murder. + + [_Sits down_.] + +Time was, my dearest children, when with joy +You hail'd your father's safe return to home +From his long mountain toils; for, when he came, +He ever brought with him some little gift-- +A lovely Alpine flower--a curious bird-- +Or elf-bolt, such as on the hills are found. +But now he goes in quest of other game, +Sits in this gorge, with murder in his thoughts, +And for his enemy's life-blood lies in wait. +But still it is of you alone he thinks, +Dear children. 'Tis to guard your innocence, +To shield you from the tyrant's fell revenge, +He bends his bow to do a deed of blood! + + [_Rises_.] + +Well--I am watching for a noble prey! +Does not the huntsman, with unflinching heart, +Roam for whole days, when winter frosts are keen, +Leap at the risk of death from rock to rock-- +And climb the jagged, slippery steeps, to which +His limbs are glued by his own streaming blood-- +And all to hunt a wretched chamois down? +A far more precious prize is now my aim-- +The heart of that dire foe, who seeks my life. + +[_Sprightly music heard in the distance, which comes +gradually nearer_.] + +From my first years of boyhood I have used +The bow--been practised in the archer's feats; +The bull's eye many a time my shafts have hit, +And many a goodly prize have I brought home +From competitions. But this day I'll make +My master-shot, and win what's best to win +In the whole circuit of our mountain range. + +[_A bridal party passes over the stage, and goes up the +pass_. TELL _gazes at it, leaning on his bow. He is joined +by_ STUSSI _the Ranger_.] + +STUSSI. + +There goes the cloister bailiff's bridal train +Of Moerlischachen. A rich fellow he! +And has some half score pastures on the Alps. +He goes to fetch his bride from Imisee. +At Kuessnacht there will be high feast tonight. +Come with us--ev'ry honest man is asked. + +TELL. + +A gloomy guest fits not a wedding feast. + +STUSSI. + +If you've a trouble, dash it from your heart! +Take what Heaven sends! The times are heavy now, +And we must snatch at pleasure as it flies. +Here 'tis a bridal, there a burial. + +TELL. + +And oft the one close on the other treads. + +STUSSI. + +So runs the world we live in. Everywhere +Mischance befalls and misery enough. +In Glarus there has been a landslip, and +A whole side of the Glaernisch has fallen in. + +TELL. + +How! Do the very hills begin to quake? +There is stability for naught on earth. + +STUSSI. + +Of strange things, too, we hear from other parts. +I spoke with one but now, from Baden come, +Who said a knight was on his way to court, +And, as he rode along, a swarm of wasps +Surrounded him, and settling on his horse, +So fiercely stung the beast, that it fell dead, +And he proceeded to the court on foot. + +TELL. + +The weak are also furnish'd with a sting. + +ARMGART (_enters with several children, and places herself +at the entrance of the pass_). + +STUSSI. + +'Tis thought to bode disaster to the land-- +Some horrid deeds against the course of nature. + +TELL. + +Why, every day brings forth such fearful deeds; +There needs no prodigy to herald them. + +STUSSI. + +Ay, happy he, who tills his field in peace, +And sits at home untroubled with his kin. + +TELL. + +The very meekest cannot be at peace +If his ill neighbor will not let him rest. + +[TELL _looks frequently with restless expectation toward the +top of the pass_.] + +STUSSI. + +So fare you well! You're waiting someone here? + +TELL. + +I am. + +STUSSI. + + God speed you safely to your home! +You are from Uri, are you not? His grace +The governor's expected thence today. + +TRAVELER (_entering_). + +Look not to see the governor today. +The streams are flooded by the heavy rains, +And all the bridges have been swept away. + + [TELL _rises_.] + +ARMGART (_coming forward_). + +Gessler not coming? + +STUSSI. + + Want you aught with him? + +ARMGART. + +Alas, I do! + +STUSSI. + +Why then, thus place yourself +Where you obstruct his passage down the pass? + +ARMGART. + +Here he cannot escape me. He _must_ hear me. + +FRIESSHARDT (_coming hastily down the pass and calls upon +the stage_). + +Make way, make way! My lord, the governor, +Is close behind me, riding down the pass. + + [_Exit_ TELL.] + +ARMGART (_excitedly_). + +The Viceroy comes! + +[_She goes toward the pass with her children_. GESSLER _and_ +RUDOLPH DER HARRAS _appear on horseback at the upper end of +the pass_.] + +STUSSI (_to_ FRIESSHARDT). + +How got ye through the stream, +When all the bridges have been carried down? + +FRIESS. + +We've fought, friend, with the tempest on the lake; +An Alpine torrent's nothing after that. + +STUSSI. + +How! Were you out, then, in that dreadful storm? + +FRIESS. + +We were! I'll not forget it while I live. + +STUSSI. + +Stay, speak-- + +FRIESS. + +I can't--must to the castle haste, +And tell them, that the governor's at hand. + + [_Exit_.] + +STUSSI. + +If honest men, now, had been in the ship, +It had gone down with every soul on board:-- +Some folks are proof 'gainst fire and water both. + + [_Looking round_.] + +Where has the huntsman gone with whom I spoke? + + [_Exit_.] + +_Enter_ GESSLER _and_ RUDOLPH DER HARRAS _on horseback_ + +GESSLER. + +Say what you will; I am the Emperor's liege, +And how to please him my first thought must be. +He did not send me here to fawn and cringe, +And coax these boors into good humor. No! +Obedience he must have. The struggle's this: +Is king or peasant to be sovereign here? + +ARMGART. + +Now is the moment! Now for my petition! + +GESSLER. + +'Twas not in sport that I set up the cap +In Altdorf--or to try the people's hearts-- +All this I knew before. I set it up +That they might learn to bend those stubborn necks +They carry far too proudly--and I placed +What well I knew their pride could never brook +Full in the road, which they perforce must pass, +That, when their eye fell on it, they might call +That lord to mind whom they too much forget. + +HARRAS. + +But surely, sir, the people have some rights-- + +GESSLER. + +This is no time to settle what they are. +Great projects are at work, and hatching now. +The Imperial house seeks to extend its power. +Those vast designs of conquest which the sire +Has gloriously begun, the son will end. +This petty nation is a stumbling-block-- +One way or other, it must be put down. + +[_They are about to pass on_. ARMGART _throws herself down +before_ GESSLER.] + +ARMGART. + +Mercy, lord governor! Oh, pardon, pardon! + +GESSLER. + +Why do you cross me on the public road? +Stand back, I say. + +ARMGART. + + My husband lies in prison; +My wretched orphans cry for bread. Have pity, +Pity, my lord, upon our sore distress! + +HARRAS. + +Who are you? and your husband, what is he? + +ARMGART. + +A poor wild hay-man of the Rigiberg, +Kind sir, who on the brow of the abyss, +Mows the unowner'd grass from craggy shelves, +To which the very cattle dare not climb. + +HARRAS (_to_ GESSLER). + +By Heaven! a sad and pitiable life! +I pray you set the wretched fellow free. +How great soever may be his offence, +His horrid trade is punishment enough. + + [_To_ ARMGART.] + +You shall have justice. To the castle bring +Your suit. This is no place to deal with it. + +ARMGART. + +No, no, I will not stir from where I stand, +Until your grace gives me my husband back. +Six months already has he been shut up, +And waits the sentence of a judge in vain. + +GESSLER. + +How! would you force me, woman? Hence! Begone! + +ARMGART. + +Justice, my lord! Ay, justice! Thou are judge, +Vice-regent of the Emperor--of Heaven. +Then do thy duty--as thou hopest for justice +From Him who rules above, show it to us! + +GESSLER. + +Hence! Drive this insolent rabble from my sight! + +ARMGART (_seizing his horse's reins_). + +No, no, by Heaven, I've nothing more to lose.-- +Thou stir'st not, Viceroy, from this spot, until +Thou dost me fullest justice. Knit thy brows, +And roll thine eyes--I fear not. Our distress +Is so extreme, so boundless, that we care +No longer for thine anger. + +GESSLER. + + Woman, hence! +Give way, or else my horse shall ride you down. + +ARMGART. + + Well, let it!--there-- + +[_Throws her children and herself upon the ground before him_.] + + Here on the ground I lie, +I and my children. Let the wretched orphans +Be trodden by thy horse into the dust! +It will not be the worst that thou hast done. + +HARRAS. + +Are you mad, woman? + +ARMGART (_continuing with vehemence_). + + Many a day thou hast +Trampled the Emperor's lands beneath thy feet. +Oh, I am but a woman! Were I man, +I'd find some better thing to do, than here +Lie grovelling in the dust. + +[_The music of the bridal party is again heard +from the top of the pass, but more softly_.] + +GESSLER. + + Where are my knaves? +Drag her away, lest I forget myself, +And do some deed I may repent me of. + +HARRAS. + +My lord, the servants cannot force their way; +The pass is block'd up by a bridal train. + +GESSLER. + +Too mild a ruler am I to this people, +Their tongues are all too bold--nor have they yet +Been tamed to due submission, as they shall be. +I must take order for the remedy; +I will subdue this stubborn mood of theirs, +This braggart spirit of freedom I will crush, +I will proclaim a new law through the land; +I will-- + +[_An arrow pierces him--he puts his hand on his heart, and +is about to sink--with a feeble voice_.] + + Oh God, have mercy on my soul! + +HARRAs. + +My lord! my lord! Oh God! What's this? Whence came it? + +ARMGART (_starts up_). + +Dead, dead! He reels, he falls! 'Tis in his heart! + +HARRAS (_springs from his horse_). + +Horror of horrors! Heavenly powers! Sir knight, +Address yourself for mercy to your God! +You are a dying man. + +GESSLER. + +That shot was Tell's. + +[_He slides from his horse into the arms of_ RUDOLPH DER +HARRAS, _who lays him down upon the beach_. TELL _appears +above upon the rocks_.] + +TELL. + +Thou know'st the marksman--I, and I alone. +Now are our homesteads free, and innocence +From thee is safe: thou'lt be our curse no more. + + [TELL _disappears. People rush in_.] + +STUSSI. + +What is the matter? Tell me what has happen'd? + +ARMGART. + +The Viceroy's shot--pierced by a cross-bow bolt! + +PEOPLE (_running in_). + +Who has been shot? + +[_While the foremost of the marriage party are coming on the +stage, the hindmost are still upon the heights. The music +continues_.] + +HARRAS. + +He's bleeding fast to death. +Away, for help--pursue the murderer! +Unhappy man, is this to be your end? +You would not listen to my warning words. + +STUSSI. + +By Heaven, his cheek is pale! Life's ebbing fast. + +MANY VOICES. + +Who did the deed? + +HARRAS. + +What! Are the people mad, +That they make music to a murder? Silence! + +[_Music breaks off suddenly. People continue to flock in_.] + +Speak, if you can, my lord. Have you no charge +To trust me with? + +[GESSLER _makes signs with his hand, which he repeats with +vehemence, when he finds they are not understood_.] + + Where shall I take you to? +To Kuessnacht? What you say I can't make out. +Oh, do not grow impatient! Leave all thought +Of earthly things and make your peace with Heaven. + +[_The whole marriage party gather round the dying man_.] + +STUSSI. + +See there! how pale he grows! Death's gathering now +About his heart--his eyes grow dim and glazed. + +ARMGART (_holds up a child_). + +Look, children, how a tyrant dies! + +HARRAS. + + Mad hag! +Have you no touch of feeling, that your eyes +Gloat on a sight so horrible as this? +Help me--take hold. What, will not one assist +To pull the torturing arrow from his breast? + +WOMEN. + +What! touch the man whom God's own hand has struck! + +HARRAS. + +All curses light on you! [_Draws his sword_.] + +STUSSI (_seizes his arm_). + + Gently, sir knight! +Your power is at end. 'Twere best forbear. +Our country's foe has fallen. We will brook +No further violence. We are free men. + +ALL. + +The country's free. + +HARRAS. + +And is it come to this? +Fear and obedience at an end so soon? + +[_To the soldiers of the guard who are thronging in_.] + +You see, my friends, the bloody piece of work +Has here been done. 'Tis now too late for help, +And to pursue the murderer were vain. +We've other things to think of. On to Kuessnacht, +And let us save that fortress for the king! +For in a moment such as this, all ties +Of order, fealty and faith are rent, +And we can trust to no man's loyalty. + +[_As he is going out with the soldiers, six_ FRATRES +MISERICORDIAE _appear_.] + +ARMGART. + +Here comes the brotherhood of mercy. Room! + +STUSSI. + +The victim's slain, and now the ravens stoop. + +BROTHERS OF MERCY (_form a semicircle round the body, and +sing in solemn tones)._ + +Death hurries on with hasty stride, + No respite man from him may gain, + +He cuts him down, when life's full tide + Is throbbing strong in every vein. +Prepared or not the call to hear, + He must before his Judge appear. + +[_While they are repeating the two last lines, the curtain +falls_.] + + +ACT V + +SCENE I + +_A common near Altdorf. In the background to the right the +Keep of Uri, with the scaffold still standing, as in the +Third Scene of the first Act. To the left, the view opens +upon numerous mountains, on all of which signal fires are +burning. Day is breaking, and distant bells are heard +ringing in several directions._ + +RUODI, KUONI, WERNI, MASTER MASON, _and many other country +people, also women and children_. + +RUODI. + +See there! The beacons on the mountain heights! + +MASON. + +Hark how the bells above the forest toll! + +RUODI. + +The enemy's routed. + +MASON. + +And the forts are storm'd. + +RUODI. + +And we of Uri, do we still endure +Upon our native soil the tyrant's keep? +Are we the last to strike for liberty? + +MASON. + +Shall the yoke stand, that was to curb our necks? +Up! Tear it to the ground! + +ALL. + +Down, down with it! + +RUODI. + +Where is the Stier of Uri? + +URI. + + Here. What would ye? + +RUODI. + +Up to your tower, and wind us such a blast +As shall resound afar, from peak to peak; +Rousing the echoes of each glen and hill, +To rally swiftly all the mountain men! + + [_Exit_ STIER OF URI--_Enter_ WALTER FUeRST.] + +FUeRST. + +Stay, stay, my friends! As yet we have not learn'd +What has been done in Unterwald and Schwytz. +Let's wait till we receive intelligence! + +RUODI. + +Wait, wait for what? The accursed tyrant's dead. +And on us freedom's glorious day has dawn'd! + +MASON. + +How! Are these flaming signals not enough, +That blaze on every mountain top around? + +RUODI. + +Come all, fall to--come, men and women, all! +Destroy the scaffold! Burst the arches! Down, +Down with the walls, let not a stone remain! + +MASON. + +Come, comrades, come! We built it, and we know +How best to hurl it down. + +ALL. + +Come! Down with it! + + [_They fall upon the building on every side_.] + +FUeRST. + +The floodgate's burst. They're not to be restrained. + + [_Enter_ MELCHTHAL _and_ BAUMGARTEN.] + +MELCH. + +What! Stands the fortress still, when Sarnen lies +In ashes, and the Rossberg's in our hands? + +FUeRST. + +You, Melchthal, here? D'ye bring us liberty? +Are all the Cantons from our tyrants freed? + +MELCH. + +We've swept them from the soil. Rejoice, my friend, +Now, at this very moment, while we speak, +There's not one tyrant left in Switzerland! + +FUeRST. + +How did you get the forts into your power? + +MELCH. + +Rudenz it was who by a bold assault +With manly valor mastered Sarnen's keep. +The Rossberg I had storm'd the night before. +But hear what chanced! Scarce had we driven the foe +Forth from the keep, and given it to the flames, +That now rose crackling upwards to the skies, +When from the blaze rush'd Diethelm, Gessler's page, +Exclaiming, "Lady Bertha will be burnt!" + +FUeRST. + + Good heavens! + +[_The beams of the scaffold are heard falling_.] + +MELCH. + +'Twas she herself. Here had she been +By Gessler's orders secretly immured. +Up sprang Rudenz in frenzy. For even now +The beams and massive posts were crashing down, +And through the stifling smoke the piteous shrieks +Of the unhappy lady. + +FUeRST. + +Is she saved? + +MELCH. + +'Twas not a time to hesitate or pause! +Had he been but our baron, and no more, +We should have been most chary of our lives; +But he was our confederate, and Bertha +Honor'd the people. So, without a thought, +We risk'd the worst, and rush'd into the flames. + +FUeRST. + +But is she saved? + +MELCH. + + + She is. Rudenz and I +Bore her between us from the blazing pile, +With crashing timbers toppling all around. +And when she had revived, the danger past, +And raised her eyes to look upon the sun, +The baron fell upon my breast; and then +A silent vow between us two was sworn, +A vow that, welded in yon furnace heat, +Will last through ev'ry shock of time and fate. + +FUeRST. + +Where is the Landenberg? + +MELCHTHAL. + + Across the Bruenig. +'Twas not my fault he bore his sight away, +He who had robb'd my father of his eyes! +He fled--I followed--overtook him soon, +And dragg'd him to my father's feet. The sword +Already quiver'd o'er the caitiff's head, +When from the pity of the blind old man, +He wrung the life which, craven-like, he begged. +He swore URPHEDE,[59] never to return +He'll keep his oath, for he has felt our arm. + +FUeRST. + +Oh, well for you, you have not stain'd with blood +Our spotless victory! + +CHILDREN (_running across the stage with fragments of_ +_wood_). + + We're free! we're free! + +FUeRST. + +Oh! what a joyous scene! These children will +Remember it when all their heads are gray. + +[_Girls bring in the cap upon a pole. The whole stage is +filled with people_.] + +RUODI. + +Here is the cap, to which we were to bow! + +BAUM. + +What shall we do with it? Do you decide! + +FUeRST. + +Heavens! 'Twas beneath this cap my grandson stood! + +SEVERAL VOICES. + +Destroy the emblem of the tyrant's power! +Let it be burnt! + +FUeRST. + +No. Rather be preserved; +'Twas once the instrument of despots--now +'Twill of our freedom be a lasting sign. + +[_Peasants, men, women, and children, some standing, others +sitting upon the beams of the shattered scaffold, all +picturesquely grouped, in a large semicircle_.] + +MELCH. + +Thus now, my friends, with light and merry hearts, +We stand upon the wreck of tyranny; +And gloriously the work has been fulfilled +Which we at Rootli pledged ourselves to do. + +FUeRST. + +No, not fulfilled. The work is but begun: +Courage and concord firm, we need them both; +For, be assured, the king will make all speed, +To avenge his Viceroy's death, and reinstate, +By force of arms, the tyrant we've expell'd. + +MELCH. + +Why let him come, with all his armaments! +The foe's expelled that press'd us from within; +The foe without we are prepared to meet? + +RUODI. + +The passes to our Cantons are but few; +These with our bodies we will block, we will! + +BAUM. + +Knit are we by a league will ne'er be rent, +And all his armies shall not make us quail. + +[_Enter_ ROeSSELMANN _and_ STAUFFACHER.] + +ROeSSELMANN (_speaking as he enters_). + +These are the awful judgments of the Lord! + +PEASANT. + +What is the matter? + +ROeSSELMANN. + +In what times we live! + +FUeRST. + +Say on, what is't? Ha, Werner, is it you? +What tidings? + +PEASANT. + +What's the matter? + +ROeSSELMANN. + +Hear and wonder! + +STAUFF. + +We are released from one great cause of dread. + +ROeSSEL. + +The Emperor is murdered. + +FUeRST. + +Gracious Heaven! + +[PEASANTS _rise up and throng round_ STAUFFACHER.] + +ALL. + +Murder'd!--the Emp'ror? What! The Emp'ror! Hear! + +MELCH. + +Impossible! How came you by the news? + +STAUFF. + +'Tis true! Near Bruck, by the assassin's hand, +King Albert fell. A most trustworthy man, +John Mueller, from Schaffhausen, brought the news. + +FUeRST. + +Who dared commit so horrible a deed? + +STAUFF. + +The doer makes the deed more dreadful still; +It was his nephew, his own brother's son, +Duke John of Austria, who struck the blow. + +MELCH. + +What drove him to so dire a parricide? + +STAUFF. + +The Emp'ror kept his patrimony back, +Despite his urgent importunities; +'Twas said, he meant to keep it for himself, +And with a mitre to appease the duke. +However this may be, the duke gave ear +To the ill counsel of his friends in arms; +And with the noble lords, Von Eschenbach, +Von Tegerfeld, Von Wart and Palm, resolved, +Since his demands for justice were despised, +With his own hands to take revenge at least. + +FUeRST. + +But say--the dreadful deed, how was it done? + +STAUFF. + +The king was riding down from Stein to Baden. +Upon his way to join the court at Rheinfeld-- +With him a train of high-born gentlemen, +And the young Princes John and Leopold; +And when they'd reach'd the ferry of the Reuss, +The assassins forced their way into the boat, +To separate the Emperor from his suite. +His highness landed, and was riding on +Across a fresh plough'd field--where once, they say, +A mighty city stood in Pagan times-- +With Habsburg's ancient turrets full in sight, +That was the cradle of his princely race. +When Duke John plunged a dagger in his throat, +Palm ran him thro' the body with his lance, +And Eschenbach, to end him, clove his skull; +So down he sank, all weltering in his blood, +On his own soil, by his own kinsmen slain. +Those on the opposite bank beheld the deed, +But, parted by the stream, could only raise +An unavailing cry of loud lament. +A poor old woman, sitting by the way, +Raised him, and on her breast he bled to death. + +MELCH. + +Thus has he dug his own untimely grave, +Who sought insatiably to grasp at all. + +STAUFF. + +The country round is fill'd with dire alarm, +The passes are blockaded everywhere, +And sentinels on ev'ry frontier set; +E'en ancient Zurich barricades her gates, +That have stood open for these thirty years, +Dreading the murd'rers and th' avengers more. +For cruel Agnes comes, the Hungarian queen, +By all her sex's tenderness untouch'd, +Arm'd with the thunders of the ban, to wreak +Dire vengeance for her parent's royal blood +On the whole race of those that murder'd him-- +Their servants, children, children's children--yea, +Upon the stones that built their castle walls. +Deep has she sworn a vow to immolate +Whole generations on her father's tomb, +And bathe in blood as in the dew of May. + +MELCH. + +Is't known which way the murderers have fled? + +STAUFF. + +No sooner had they done the deed, than they +Took flight each following a different route, +And parted ne'er to see each other more. +Duke John must still be wand'ring in the mountains. + +FUeRST. + +And thus their crime has borne no fruit for them. +Revenge bears never fruit. Itself, it is +The dreadful food it feeds on; its delight +Is murder--its satiety despair. + +STAUFF. + +The assassins reap no profit by their crime; +But we shall pluck with unpolluted hands +The teeming fruits of their most bloody deed. +For we are ransomed from our heaviest fear; +The direst foe of liberty has fallen, +And, 'tis reported, that the crown will pass +From Habsburg's house into another line; +The Empire is determined to assert +Its old prerogative of choice, I hear. + +FUeRST _and several others_. + +Is any named? + +STAUFFACHER. + +The Count of Luxembourg's +Already chosen by the general voice. + +FUeRST. + +'Tis well we stood so staunchly by the Empire! +Now we may hope for justice, and with cause. + +STAUFF. + +The Emperor will need some valiant friends. +He will 'gainst Austria's vengeance be our +shield. + +[_The peasantry embrace. Enter_ SACRISTAN _with Imperial +messenger_.] + +SACRIST. + +Here are the worthy chiefs of Switzerland! + +ROeSSELMANN _and several others_. + +Sacrist, what news? + +SACRISTAN. + +A courier brings this letter. + +ALL (_to_ WALTER FUeRST). + + Open and read it. + +FUeRST (_reading_). + + "To the worthy men +Of Uri, Schwytz, and Unterwald, the Queen +Elizabeth sends grace and all good wishes!" + +MANY VOICES. + +What wants the queen with us? Her reign is done. + +FUeRST (_reads_). + +"In the great grief and doleful widowhood, +In which the bloody exit of her lord +Has plunged the queen, still in her mind she bears +The ancient faith and love of Switzerland." + +MELCH. + +She ne'er did that in her prosperity. + +ROeSSEL. + +Hush, let us hear! + +FUeRST (_reads_). + +"And she is well assured, +Her people will in due abhorrence hold +The perpetrators of this damned deed. +On the three Cantons, therefore, she relies, +That they in nowise lend the murderers aid; +But rather, that they loyally assist, +To give them up to the avenger's hand, +Remembering the love and grace which they +Of old received from Rudolph's royal house." + +[_Symptoms of dissatisfaction among the peasantry_.] + +MANY VOICES. + +The love and grace! + +STAUFF. + +Grace from the father we, indeed, received, +But what have we to boast of from the song +Did he confirm the charter of our freedom, +As all preceding emperors had done? +Did he judge righteous judgment, or afford +Shelter, or stay, to innocence oppress'd? +Nay, did he e'en give audience to the men +We sent to lay our grievances before him? +Not one of all these things did the king do, +And had we not ourselves achieved our rights +By our own stalwart hands, the wrongs we bore +Had never touch'd him. Gratitude to him! +Within these vales he sowed no seeds of that; +He stood upon an eminence--he might +Have been a very father to his people, +But all his aim and pleasure was to raise +Himself and his own house: and now may those +Whom he has aggrandized, lament for him; + +FUeRST. + + We will not triumph in his fall, nor now +Recall to mind the wrongs that we endured. +Far be't from us! Yet, that we should avenge +The sovereign's death, who never did us good, +And hunt down those who ne'er molested us, +Becomes us not, nor is our duty. Love +Must be a tribute free, and unconstrain'd; +From all enforced duties death absolves, +And unto him we owe no further debt. + +MELCH. + +And if the queen laments within her bower, +Accusing Heaven in sorrow's wild despair; +Here see a people, from its anguish freed, +To that same Heav'n send up its thankful praise. +Who would reap tears must sow the seeds of love. + + [_Exit the Imperial Courier_.] + +STAUFFACHER (_to the people_). + +But where is Tell? Shall he, our freedom's founder, +Alone be absent from our festival? +He did the most--endured the worst of all. +Come--to his dwelling let us all repair, +And bid the Savior of our country hail! + + [_Exeunt omnes_.] + + +SCENE II + + +_Interior of_ TELL's _cottage. A fire burning on the hearth. The open door +shows the scene outside._ + +HEDWIG, WALTER, _and_ WILLIAM + +HEDWIG. + +My own dear boys! your father comes today; +He lives, is free, and we, and all are free; +The country owes its liberty to him! + +WALTER. +And I, too, mother, bore my part in it! +I must be named with him. My father's shaft +Ran my life close, but yet I never flinch'd. + +HEDWIG (_embracing him_). + +Yes, yes, thou art restored to me again! +Twice have I seen thee given to my sad eyes, +Twice suffered all a mother's pangs for thee! +But this is past--I have you both, boys, both! +And your dear father will be back today. + + [_A monk appears at the door_.] + +WILLIAM. + +See, mother, yonder stands a holy friar; +He comes for alms, no doubt. + +HEDWIG. + + Go lead him in, +That we may give him cheer, and make him feel +That he has come into the house of joy. + + [_Exit and returns immediately with a cup_.] + +WILLIAM (_to the monk_). + +Come in, good man. Mother will give you food! + +WALTER. + +Come in and rest, then go refresh'd away! + +MONK (_glancing round in terror, with unquiet looks_). + +Where am I? In what country? Tell me. + +WALTER. + + How! +Are you bewildered, that you know not where? +You are at Buerglen, in the land of Uri, +Just at the entrance of the Shechenthal. + +MONK. (_to_ HEDWIG). + +Are you alone? Your husband, is he here? + +HEDWIG. + +I am expecting him. But what ails you, man? +There's something in your looks, that omens ill! +Whoe'er you be, you are in want--take that. + + [_Offers him the cup_.] + +MONK. + +Howe'er my sinking heart may yearn for food, +Nought will I taste till you have promised first-- + +HEDWIG. + +Touch not my garments, come not near me, monk! +You must stand farther back, if I'm to hear you. + +MONK. + +Oh, by this hearth's bright hospitable blaze, +By your dear children's heads, which I embrace-- + + [_Grasps the boys_.] + +HEDWIG. + +Stand back, I say! What is your purpose, man? +Back from my boys! You are no monk,--no, no, +Beneath the robe you wear peace should abide, +But peace abides not in such looks as yours. + +MONK. + +I am the wretchedest of living men. + +HEDWIG. + +The heart is never deaf to wretchedness; +But your look freezes up my inmost soul. + +WALTER (_springs up_). + +Mother, here's father! + +HEDWIG. + +Oh, my God! + + [_Is about to follow, trembles and stops_.] + +WILLIAM (_running after his brother_). + +My father! + +WALTER (_without_). + +Here, here once more! + +WILLIAM (_without_). + + My father, my dear father! + +TELL (_without_). + +Yes, here once more! Where is your mother, boys? + + [_They enter_.] + +WALTER. + +There at the door she stands, and can no further, +She trembles so with terror and with joy. + +TELL. + +Oh Hedwidg, Hedwig, mother of my children! +God has been kind and helpful in our woes. +No tyrant's hand shall e'er divide us more. + +HEDWIG (_falling on his neck_). + +Oh, Tell, what anguish have I borne for thee! + + [_Monk becomes attentive_.] + +TELL. + +Forget it now, and live for joy alone! +I'm here again with you! This is my cot! +I stand again upon mine own hearth stone! + +WILLIAM. + +But, father, where's your cross-bow? Not with you? + +TELL. + +Thou shalt not ever see it more, my boy. +Within a holy shrine it has been placed, +And in the chase shall ne'er be used again. + +HEDWIG. + Oh, Tell! Tell! + + [_Steps back, dropping his hand_.] + +TELL. + What alarms thee, dearest wife? + +HEDWIG. How--how dost thou return to me? This hand-- +Dare I take hold of it? This hand--Oh God! + +TELL (_with firmness and animation_). + +Has shielded you and set my country free; +Freely I raise it in the face of Heaven. + + [MONK _gives a sudden start--he looks at him_.] + +Who is this friar here? + +HEDWIG. + + Ah, I forgot him; +Speak thou with him; I shudder at his presence. + +MONK (_stepping nearer_). + +Are you the Tell who slew the governor? + +TELL. + +Yes, I am he. I hide the fact from no man. + +MONK. + +And you are Tell! Ah! it is God's own hand, +That hath conducted me beneath your roof. + +TELL (_examining him closely_). + +You are no monk. Who are you? + +MONK. + + You have slain +The governor, who did you wrong. I, too, +Have slain a foe, who robb'd me of my rights. +He was no less your enemy than mine. +I've rid the land of him. + +TELL (_drawing back_). + + You are--oh, horror! +In--children, children--in, without a word, +Go, my dear wife! Go! Go! Unhappy man, +You should be-- + +HEDWIG. + + Heav'ns, who is it? + +TELL. + + Do not ask. +Away! away! the children must not hear it. +Out of the house--away! You must not rest +'Neath the same roof with this unhappy man! + +HEDWIG. + +Alas! What is it? Come. + + [_Exit with the children_.] + +TELL (_to the_ MONK). + + You are the Duke +Of Austria--I know it. You have slain +The Emperor, your uncle, and liege lord. + +JOHN. + +He robb'd me of my patrimony. + +TELL. + + How! +Slain him--your king, your uncle! And the earth +Still bears you! And the sun still shines on you! + +JOHN. + +Tell, hear me, ere you-- + +TELL. + + Reeking with the blood +Of him that was your Emperor, your kinsman, +Dare you set foot within my spotless house, +Dare to a honest man to show your face, +And claim the rites of hospitality? + +JOHN. + +I hoped to find compassion at your hands. +You took, like me, revenge upon your foe! + +TELL. + +Unhappy man! Dare you confound the crime +Of blood-imbued ambition with the act +Forced on a father in mere self-defence? +Have you to shield your children's darling heads, +To guard your fireside's sanctuary--ward off +The last, the direst doom from all you loved? +To Heaven I raise my unpolluted hands, +To curse your act and you! I have avenged +That holy nature which you have profaned. +I have no part with you. You murdered, I +Have shielded all that was most dear to me. + +JOHN. + +You cast me off to comfortless despair! + +TELL. + +I shrink with horror while I talk with you. +Hence, on the dread career you have begun, +Cease to pollute the home of innocence! + + [JOHN _turns to depart._] + +JOHN. + +I cannot and I will not live this life! + +TELL. + +And yet my soul bleeds for you. Gracious Heaven, +So young, of such a noble line, the grandson +Of Rudolph, once my lord and emperor, +An outcast--murderer--standing at my door, +The poor man's door--a suppliant, in despair! + + [_Covers his face_.] + +JOHN. + +If you have power to weep, oh let my fate +Move your compassion--it is horrible! +I am--say, rather was--a prince. I might +Have been most happy, had I only curb'd +The impatience of my passionate desires: +But envy gnaw'd my heart--I saw the youth +Of mine own cousin Leopold endow'd +With honor, and enrich'd with broad domains, +The while myself, of equal age with him, +In abject slavish nonage was kept back. + +TELL. + +Unhappy man, your uncle knew you well, +When from you land and subjects he withheld! +You, by your mad and desperate act have set +A fearful seal upon his wise resolve. +Where are the bloody partners of your crime? + +JOHN. + +Where'er the avenging furies may have borne them; +I have not seen them since the luckless deed. + +TELL. + +Know you the Empire's ban is out--that you +Are interdicted to your friends, and given +An outlaw'd victim to your enemies! + +JOHN. + +Therefore I shun all public thoroughfares, +And venture not to knock at any door-- +I turn my footsteps to the wilds, and through +The mountains roam, a terror to myself. +From mine own self I shrink with horror back, +If in a brook I see my ill-starr'd form. +If you have pity or a human heart-- + + [_Falls down before him_.] + +TELL. + +Stand up, stand up! I say. + +JOHN. + + Not till you give +Your hand in promise of assistance to me. + +TELL. + +Can I assist you? Can a sinful man? +Yet get ye up--how black soe'er your crime-- +You are a man. I, too, am one. From Tell +Shall no one part uncomforted. I will +Do all that lies within my power. + +DUKE JOHN (_springs up and grasps him ardently by the +hand_). + + Oh, Tell, +You save me from the terrors of despair. + +TELL. + +Let go my hand! You must away. You cannot +Remain here undiscover'd, and, discover'd, +You cannot count on succor. Which way, then, +Would you be going? Where do you hope to find +A place of rest? + +DUKE JOHN. + + Alas! I know not where. + +TELL. + +Hear, then, what Heaven unto my heart suggests. +You must to Italy--to Saint Peter's City-- +There cast yourself at the Pope's feet--confess +Your guilt to him, and ease your laden soul! + +JOHN. + +Will he not to the avengers yield me up? + +TELL. + +Whate'er he does, accept it as from God. + +JOHN. + +But how am I to reach that unknown land? +I have no knowledge of the way, and dare not +Attach myself to other travelers. + +TELL. + +I will describe the road, so mark me well! +You must ascend, keeping along the Reuss, +Which from the mountains dashes wildly down. + +DUKE JOHN (_in alarm_). + +What! See the Reuss? The witness of my deed! + +TELL. + +The road you take lies through the river's gorge, +And many a cross proclaims where travelers +Have been by avalanches done to death. + +JOHN. + +I have no fear for nature's terrors, so +I can appease the torments of my soul. + +TELL. + +At every cross, kneel down and expiate +Your crime with burning penitential tears-- +And if you 'scape the perils of the pass, +And are not whelm'd beneath the drifted snows, +That from the frozen peaks come sweeping down, +You'll reach the bridge that's drench'd with drizzling spray. +Then if it give not way beneath your guilt, +When you have left it safely in your rear, +Before you frowns the gloomy Gate of Rocks, +Where never sun did shine. Proceed through this, +And you will reach a bright and gladsome vale. +Yet must you hurry on with hasty steps, +You must not linger in the haunts of peace. + +JOHN. + +O Rudolph, Rudolph, royal grandsire! thus +Thy grandson first sets foot within thy realms! + +TELL. + +Ascending still, you gain the Gotthardt's heights, +Where are the tarns, the everlasting tarns, +That from the streams of Heaven itself are fed, +There to the German soil you bid farewell; +And thence, with swift descent, another stream +Leads you to Italy, your promised land. + +[_Ranz des Vaches sounded on Alp-horns is heard without_.] + +But I hear voices! Hence! + +HEDWIG (_hurrying in_). + + Where art thou, Tell? +My father comes, and in exulting bands +All the confederates approach. + +DUKE JOHN (_covering himself_). + + Woe's me! +I dare not tarry 'mong these happy men! + +TELL. + +Go, dearest wife, and give this man to eat. +Spare not your bounty; for his road is long, +And one where shelter will be hard to find. +Quick--they approach! + +HEDWIG. + + Who is he? + +TELL. + + Do not ask! +And when he quits you, turn your eyes away, +So that they do not see which way he goes. + + [DUKE JOHN _advances hastily toward_ TELL, _but he beckons +him aside and goes out. When both have left the stage, the +scene changes_.] + + +SCENE III + + +_The whole valley before_ TELL's _house, the heights which +inclose it occupied by peasants, grouped into tableaux. Some +are seen crossing a lofty bridge, which crosses the +Shechen_. WALTER FUeRST _with the two boys_, WERNER _and_ +STAUFFACHER, _come forward. Others throng after them. When_ +TELL _appears, all receive him with loud cheers._ + +ALL. + +Long live brave Tell, our shield, our Savior! + +[_While those in front are crowding round_ TELL, _and +embracing him_, RUDENZ _and_ BERTHA _appear. The former +salutes the peasantry, the latter embraces_ HEDWIG. _The +music front the mountains continues to play. When it has +stopped_, BERTHA _steps into the centre of the crowd_.] + +BERTHA. + +Peasants! Confederates! Into your league +Receive me, who was happily the first +That found deliverance in the land of freedom. +To your brave hands I now intrust my rights. +Will you protect me as your citizen? + +PEASANTS. + +Ay, that we will, with life and goods! + +BERTHA. 'Tis well! + +And now to him (_turning to_ RUDENZ) I frankly give my hand. +A free Swiss maiden to a free Swiss man! + +RUDENZ. + +And from this moment all my serfs are free! + + [_Music, and the curtain falls_.] + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 36: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and +G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 37: The German is, _Thalvogt_, Ruler of the Valley--the name +given figuratively to a dense gray mist which the south wind sweeps +into the valleys from the mountain tops. It is well known as the +precursor of stormy weather.] + +[Footnote 38: A steep rock, standing on the north of Ruetli, and nearly +opposite to Brumen.] + +[Footnote 39: In German, _Wolfenschiessen_--a young man of noble +family, and a native of Unterwalden, who attached himself to the House +of Austria, and was appointed _Burvogt_, or Seneschal, of the Castle +of Rossberg. He was killed by Baumgarten in the manner, and for the +cause, mentioned in the text.] + +[Footnote 40: Literally, The _Foehn_ is loose! "When," says Mueller, in +his History of Switzerland, "the wind called the Foehn is high, the +navigation of the lake becomes extremely dangerous. Such is its +vehemence that the laws of the country require that the fires shall be +extinguished in the houses while it lasts, and the night watches are +doubled. The inhabitants lay heavy stones upon the roofs of their +houses, to prevent their being blown away."] + +[Footnote 41: Buerglen, the birthplace and residence of Tell. A chapel, +erected in 1522, remains on the spot formerly occupied by his house.] + +[Footnote 42: Berenger von Landenberg, a man of noble family in +Thurgau, and Governor of Unterwald, infamous for his cruelties to the +Swiss, and particularly to the venerable Henry of the Halden. He was +slain at the battle of Morgarten, in 1315.] + +[Footnote 43: A cell built in the 9th century, by Meinrad, Count of +Hohenzollern, the founder of the Convent of Einsiedeln, subsequently +alluded to in the text.] + +[Footnote 44: The League, or Bond, of the Three Cantons was of very +ancient origin. They met and renewed it from time to time, especially +when their liberties were threatened with danger. A remarkable +instance of this occurred in the end of the 13th century, when +Albert, of Austria, became Emperor, and when, possibly, for the first +time, the Bond was reduced to writing. As it is important to the +understanding of many passages of the play, a translation is subjoined +of the oldest known document relating to it. The original, which is in +Latin and German, is dated in August, 1291, and is under the seals of +the whole of the men of Schwytz, the commonalty of the vale of Uri and +the whole of the men of the upper and lower vales of Stanz. + +THE BOND. + +Be it known to every one, that the men of the Dale of Uri, the +Community of Schwytz, as also the men of the mountains of Unterwald, +in consideration of the evil times, have full confidently bound +themselves, and sworn to help each other with all their power and +might, property and people, against all who shall do violence to them, +or any of them. That is our Ancient Bond. + +Whoever hath a Seignior, let him obey according to the conditions of +his service. + +We are agreed to receive into these dales no Judge, who is not a +countryman and indweller, or who hath bought his place. + +Every controversy amongst the sworn confederates shall be determined +by some of the sagest of their number, and if any one shall challenge +their judgment, then shall he be constrained to obey it by the rest. + +Whoever intentionally or deceitfully kills another, shall be +executed, and whoever shelters him shall be banished. + +Whoever burns the property of another shall no longer be regarded as a +countryman, and whoever shelters him shall make good the damage done. + +Whoever injures another, or robs him, and hath property in our +country, shall make satisfaction out of the same. + +No one shall distrain a debtor without a judge, nor any one who is not +his debtor, or the surety for such debtor. + +Every one in these dales shall submit to the judge, or we, the sworn +confederates, all will take satisfaction for all the injury occasioned +by his contumacy. And if in any internal division the one party will +not accept justice, all the rest shall help the other party. These +decrees shall, God willing, endure eternally for our general +advantage.] + +[Footnote 45: The Austrian knights were in the habit of wearing a plum +of peacocks' feathers in their helmets. After the overthrow of the +Austrian dominion in Switzerland, it was made highly penal to wear the +peacock's feather at any public assembly there.] + +[Footnote 46: The bench reserved for the nobility.] + +[Footnote 47: The Landamman was an officer chosen by the Swiss +Gemeinde, or Diet, to preside over them. The Banneret was an officer +intrusted with the keeping of the State Banner and such others as were +taken in battle.] + +[Footnote 48: According to the custom by which, when the last male +descendent of a noble family died, his sword, helmet, and shield, were +buried with him.] + +[Footnote 49: This frequently occurred. But in the event of an +imperial city being mortgaged for the purpose of raising money, it +lost its freedom, and was considered as put out of the realm.] + +[Footnote 50: An allusion to the circumstance of the Imperial Crown +not being hereditary, but conferred by election on one of the Counts +of the Empire.] + +[Footnote 51: These are the cots, or shealings, erected by the +herdsmen for shelter while pasturing their herds on the mountains +during the summer. These are left deserted in winter, during which +period Melchthal's journey was taken.] + +[Footnote 52: It was the custom at the meetings of the Landes +Gemeinde, or Diet, to set swords upright in the ground as emblems of +authority.] + +[Footnote 53: The Heribann was a muster of warriors similar to the +_arriere ban_ of France.] + +[Footnote 54: A The Duke of Suabia, who +soon afterward assassinated his uncle for withholding his patrimony +from him.] + +[Footnote 55: A sort of national militia.] + +[Footnote 56: Rocks on shore of Lake Lucerne.] + +[Footnote 57: An allusion to the gallant self-devotion of Arnold +Struthan of Winkelried, at the battle of Sempach [9th July, 1386], who +broke the Austrian phalanx by rushing on their lances, grasping as +many of them as he could reach, and concentrating them upon his +breast. The confederates rushed forward through the gap thus opened by +the sacrifice of their comrade, broke and cut down their enemy's +ranks, and soon became the masters of the field. "Dear and faithful +confederates, I will open you a passage. Protect my wife and +children," were the words of Winkelried, as he rushed to death.] + +[Footnote 58: The URPHEDE was an oath of peculiar force. When a man, +who was at feud with another, invaded his lands and was worsted, he +often made terms with his enemy by swearing the _Urphede_, by which he +bound himself to depart, and never to return with a hostile +intention.] + + * * * * * + + + +THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS + + +A MASQUE + +Dedicated in all reverence to her Imperial Highness, the Crown +Princess of Weimar, MARIA PAULOWNA, Grand-Duchess of Russia, and +produced at the Court Theatre in Weimar, November 12, 1804. + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + + +A FATHER. +A MOTHER. +A YOUTH. +A MAIDEN. +CHORUS OF COUNTRY PEOPLE. +GENIUS. +THE SEVEN ARTS. + + +The scene is laid in a country place. In the centre of the stage, an +orange-tree, laden with fruit and bedecked with ribbons. The country +people are setting it firmly in the earth, while maidens and children, +on each side, hold it erect by means of garlands of flowers. + + + +THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS (1804) + +TRANSLATED BY A. I. DU P. COLEMAN, A.M. + +Professor of English Literature, College of the City of New York + + + THE FATHER + + Blossom, blossom, bountiful tree + With thy golden apples gay, + Which from lands so far away + We have brought for ours to see! + Fullest fruitage ever bearing, + May thy branches ne'er decay! + + ALL + + Blossom, blossom, bountiful tree, + Shooting upward strong and free! + + THE YOUTH + + With the fragrant bloom united, + Proudly hang the golden store! + May it stand by storms unblighted, + May it grow from more to more! + + ALL + + May it stand by storms unblighted, + May it grow from more to more! + + THE MOTHER + + Mother Earth, O hear my word! + Guard the tender nursling now. + Thou that lead'st the speckled herd, + God of the fields, to thee we bow! + + THE MAIDEN + + Gentle Dryads, guard its growing, + Guard it, guard it, Pan most high! + Mountain nymphs, your gifts bestowing, + Shield it when the storms are blowing-- + Bid their fury pass it by! + + ALL + + Gentle Dryads, guard its growing, + Guard it, guard it, Pan most high! + + THE YOUTH + + May kind skies smile down upon it, + Always clear and always blue! + Sun, send out thy softest radiance! + Feed it, Earth, with all thy dew! + + ALL + + Sun, send out thy softest radiance! + Feed it, Earth, with all thy dew! + + THE FATHER + + Joy, sweet joy, and life new-springing + May'st thou still to all be bringing-- + Joy it was that set thee here. + May thy gifts of nectar gather + Children's children, like their father, + And all bless thee for thy cheer! + + ALL + + Joy, sweet joy, and life new-springing + May'st thou still to all be bringing-- + Joy it was that set thee here! + + [_They dance in picturesque groups around the tree. The orchestral +music accompanies the dance, and gradually passes into a more elevated +style, as there appear in the background from above_ GENIUS _and the +Goddesses of the Seven Arts. The country people retire to the sides of +the stage_, GENIUS _comes down to the centre, with_ PAINTING, +SCULPTURE, _and_ ARCHITECTURE _on his right_, POETRY, DRAMA, MUSIC, +_and_ DANCING _on his left_.] + + [Illustration: THE HOMAGE OF THE ARTS HERM. MISDICEMUS] + + THE ARTS + + We come from a far land-- + Still wandering, roaming + From people to people, + From ages to ages; + We are seeking a home that shall always endure-- + In peaceful possession + To find our expression, + In stillness creating, + No power abating-- + Yet we still seek in vain for a dwelling secure. + + THE YOUTH + + Who are these my eyes behold, + Like a troop of fairies nigh-- + Forms whose beauty ne'er was told! + Beats my heart, I know not why! + + GENIUS + + Where weapons are clashing + And trumpets are blown, + Where hearts are with hate and with madness o'erflowing, + Where mortals are wand'ring, their goal never knowing, + Thence turn we our footsteps, in haste to be gone. + + ARTS + + We hate the deceivers, + Despisers of heaven; + We seek among mortals + Who to virtue are given. + Where pure hearts have welcome + To give to a friend, + We will build habitations + To dwell without end. + + THE MAIDEN + + What is this strange feeling? + What can it betoken? + By some hidden power my nature is moved, + They call to my heart like the friends I have loved-- + Yet never before with these strangers I've spoken. + + THE COUNTRY PEOPLE + + What is this strange feeling? + What can it betoken? + + GENIUS + + Ah, but yonder see I mortals, + Come to revel with delight. + Look--with ribbons and with garlands + Richly is the tree bedight! + Surely joy their bosom fills-- + + [_To the country people_.] + + Tell me what it is you do. + + THE FATHER + + Shepherds are we of these hills, + And a feast we keep, 'tis true. + + GENIUS + + What the feast? I fain would hear! + + THE MOTHER + + In honor of our lady dear, + Great as good, and good as great, + Who, to bless our humble vale, + From her high imperial station + Has descended--her we hail! + + THE YOUTH + + For her charms our jubilation, + Kindness like the sun's warm rays! + + GENIUS + + Wherefore do you plant a tree? + + THE YOUTH + + Ah, it comes of foreign race, + And its heart toward home is yearning; + That is why we fear its turning + From its new abiding-place. + + GENIUS + + That is why you plant it deep, + With the soil its roots encase, + That its blessings you may keep + In its new abiding-place? + + THE MAIDEN + + To her native land that bind her + Many, many are the ties-- + All that she has left behind her + In her childhood's paradise: + All her mother's fond embraces, + And the love of noble brothers, + And her sisters' tender bosoms. + Can we then in equal measures, + Can the world, supply a price + For such pleasures, + For such treasures? + + GENIUS + + Love can reach to any distance, + Is not bound by far or near. + As the fire is undiminished + When another flame is kindled + With its heat, to glow more clear, + So that has no tie to bind her, + Which of old she held most dear: + Though she has left love behind her, + She will find love dwelling here. + + THE MOTHER + + She has come from halls of state, + Rich with gold and crystal sheen; + Can our hills please one so great, + Where for gold we boast but sunshine, + And our wealth is meadows green? + + GENIUS + + In a heart of princely kind + Much is hidden from your sense. + Know, then, that a noble mind + Puts the greatness into living, + Never needs to draw it thence. + + THE YOUTH + + Oh, lovely strangers, teach us to retain her! + Oh, teach us to find favor in her sight! + We long with perfumed garlands to enchain her + Within our homeland, never to take flight. + + GENIUS + + A noble heart soon finds itself at home-- + Creates, in stillness working, its own world: + And as the tree takes hold upon the earth + With eager grasping roots, and soon is fast, + So will a great and doubly royal nature + By its own noble deeds take hold on life. + Love's tender ties soon knit themselves anew-- + For where is happiness, there too is home! + + ALL THE COUNTRY PEOPLE + + Oh, handsome stranger, say how we may chain her, + The fairest, in our quiet vale retain her! + + GENIUS + + Courage! The help you seek is nigh at hand. + All is not strange to her in this new land. + Me she will know, and my attendant train, + When we have made our names and office plain. + +[GENIUS _comes forward. The Seven Arts follow him and form a +semi-circle about him. As they do so, they display their attributes, +which until this moment have been concealed beneath their robes_.] + + GENIUS (_addressing the Crown Princess_) + + Lo, I am Genius--beauty's lord alone-- + And these that follow me the sister Arts. + 'Tis we that deck the altar and the throne; + We crown the work that springs from human hearts. + Long have we dealt with thine imperial line; + And she, the noble dame that gave thee birth, + With spotless hand a dedicated shrine + Still keeps for us, a sacred spot of earth. + We follow thee obedient to her sending; + For happiness through us finds perfect ending. + +ARCHITECTURE (_a mural crown on her head, a golden ship in her right +hand_) + + By Neva's flood thou saw'st me sit at home: + Thy great forefather called me to his side-- + And there I built for him a second Rome; + Through me it grew to be an empire's pride. + A paradise of stately pleasure-grounds + Arose beneath the magic of my wand; + And now the busy hum of life resounds + Where once a desert stretched on every hand. + The thunder of the cannon of thy fleet + Alarms the hoary Neptune in his ancient seat. + + SCULPTURE (_a small image of victory in her hand_) + + Me too hast thou beheld with wondering eyes, + That did the old Olympian world restore. + Upon a cliff that age and storm defies + Its mighty image stands for evermore. + + (_Shows the Victory_) + + Lo, Victory's image, by my fingers shaped! + Thy lordly brother grasps it in his hand: + And round her form his conquering banners draped, + See Alexander bear her through the land! + I strive, but end with lifeless imitation-- + He builds of savage hordes a mighty nation. + + PAINTING + + And me, most noble, thou wilt know again-- + The fond creator of depicted form; + Know very life in all its colors plain + Upon my canvas glowing fresh and warm. + Yea, through the eyes I can deceive the heart, + My skill can cheat the senses without wronging + And still the beating of the lover's heart-- + Present the very face for which he's longing: + Wide as the poles asunder though they go, + They are not quite alone, my help who know. + + POETRY + + Through farthest space I fly on soaring pinion; + I know no limits; naught disputes my rule + Or bids me stay. I hold supreme dominion + O'er realms of thought--the Word my winged tool. + All things that move in heaven above, on earth, + Are to my penetrating eyes displayed-- + Though in the secret depths they have their birth. + No bar across the poet's path is laid. + But I have found, in all my age-long quest, + Naught fairer than a pure soul in a lovely breast. + + MUSIC (_with the lyre_) + + The might of tones that tremble on the strings, + Thou know'st it well--for thou canst wield it too. + What fills the quivering heart when music sings + Can find in me alone its utterance true. + A sweet enchantment plays on every sense + When my harmonious flood has reached its height-- + Until the enraptured soul would fain go hence + And from the lips, soft sighing, take its flight. + Where I set up my ladder, built of sound, + A way to scale the dizziest heights is found. + + DANCING (_with the cymbals_) + + In solemn stillness brooding, the Divine + Is by a silent soul perceived at rest: + Yet life and youth for gladsome motion pine-- + They must expression find, must thus be blest. + Led by soft beauty's chain, they follow me + To lose themselves within the sinuous maze. + On Zephyr's wings I raise the body free; + In dancing steps I teach symmetric grace. + Grace is the gift I bear within my hand; + All things that move I lead with magic wand. + + DRAMA (_with the double mask_) + + The mask of Janus have I in my keeping-- + On one side sorrow, on the other joy; + For man must alternate 'twixt bliss and weeping, + And with the dark is mixed a light alloy. + In all its deeps profound, its dizzy heights, + Life's tale before thine eyes I can unroll, + And make thee turn, richer for these great sights, + Into the peaceful silence of thy soul. + Who the whole world in one wide view surveys, + In his own heart no civil strife dismays. + + GENIUS + + And all of us who here appear before you, + Majestic sisterhood of noble arts, + For leave to serve you, Princess, would implore you: + Do but command, and we will play our parts. + As Theban walls obeyed the lyre's sweet sounding, + So here the senseless stone shall live at thine-- + A world of beauty rise, thine eyes astounding. + + ARCHITECTURE + + Tall columns stand in well-proportioned line. + + SCULPTURE + + The marble shape beneath the mallet's blow. + + PAINTING + + Fresh life upon the painted canvas show. + + MUSIC + + For thee the stream of harmonies shall spring. + + DANCING + + Light dances follow close the vibrant string. + DRAMA + + The whole world'll pass 'fore thee on the stage. + + POETRY + + And fancy with her magic equipage + Shall bear thee, ravished, to the fields on high. + + PAINTING + + And as the magic rainbow in the sky + Conjures its colors from the gorgeous sun, + So will we, each for all, and all as one, + With mystic sevenfold wealth of pageantry, + Weave for thee, Lady, life's great tapestry. + + ALL THE ARTS (_embracing one another_) + + For strength must wed with strength, and so impart + Beauty to life and life to forms of art. + + * * * * * + + + + +HISTORY AND LITERATURE + +THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR--THE LAST CAMPAIGNS OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS +(1792)[59] + +TRANSLATED BY THE REV. A. J. W. MORRISON, M.A. + + +The glorious battle of Leipzig effected a great change in the conduct +of Gustavus Adolphus, as well as in the opinion which both friends and +foes entertained of him. Successfully had he confronted the greatest +general of the age, and had matched the strength of his tactics and +the courage of his Swedes against the elite of the imperial army, the +most experienced troops in Europe. From this moment he felt a firm +confidence in his own powers--self-confidence has always been the +parent of great actions. In all his subsequent operations more +boldness and decision are observable; greater determination, even +amidst the most unfavorable circumstances, a more lofty tone toward +his adversaries, a more dignified bearing toward his allies, and even +in his clemency, something of the forbearance of a conqueror. His +natural courage was further heightened by the pious ardor of his +imagination. He saw in his own cause that of heaven, and in the defeat +of Tilly beheld the decisive interference of Providence against his +enemies, and in himself the instrument of divine vengeance. Leaving +his crown and his country far behind, he advanced on the wings of +victory into the heart of Germany, which for centuries had seen no +foreign conqueror within its bosom. The warlike spirit of its +inhabitants, the vigilance of its numerous princes, the artful +confederation of its states, the number of its strong castles, its +many and broad rivers, had long restrained the ambition of its +neighbors; and frequently as its extensive frontier had been attacked, +its interior had been free from hostile invasion. The Empire had +hitherto enjoyed the equivocal privilege of being its own enemy, +though invincible from without. Even now, it was merely the disunion +of its members, and the intolerance of religious zeal, that paved the +way for the Swedish invader. The bond of union between the states, +which alone had rendered the Empire invincible, was now dissolved; and +Gustavus derived from Germany itself the power by which he subdued +it. With as much courage as prudence, he availed himself of all that +the favorable moment afforded; and equally at home in the cabinet and +the field, he tore asunder the web of the artful policy, with as much +ease, as he shattered walls with the thunder of his cannon. +Uninterruptedly he pursued his conquests from one end of Germany to +the other, without breaking the line of posts which commanded a secure +retreat at any moment; and whether on the banks of the Rhine, or at +the mouth of the Lech, alike maintaining his communication with his +hereditary dominions. + +[Illustration: GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS] + +The consternation of the Emperor and the League at Tilly's defeat at +Leipzig, was scarcely greater than the surprise and embarrassment of +the allies of the King of Sweden at his unexpected success. It was +beyond both their expectations and their wishes. Annihilated in a +moment was that formidable army which, while it checked his progress +and set bounds to his ambition, rendered him in some measure dependent +on themselves. He now stood in the heart of Germany, alone, without a +rival or without an adversary who was a match for him. Nothing could +stop his progress, or check his pretensions, if the intoxication of +success should tempt him to abuse his victory. If formerly they had +dreaded the Emperor's irresistible power, there was no less cause now +to fear everything for the Empire from the violence of a foreign +conqueror, and for the Catholic Church from the religious zeal of a +Protestant king. The distrust and jealousy of some of the combined +powers, which a stronger fear of the Emperor had for a time repressed, +now revived; and scarcely had Gustavus Adolphus merited, by his +courage and success, their confidence, when they began covertly to +circumvent all his plans. Through a continual struggle with the arts +of enemies, and the distrust of his own allies, must his victories +henceforth be won; yet resolution, penetration, and prudence made +their way through all impediments. But while his success excited the +jealousy of his more powerful allies, France and Saxony, it gave +courage to the weaker, and emboldened them openly to declare their +sentiments and join his party. Those who could neither vie with +Gustavus Adolphus in importance, nor suffer from his ambition, +expected the more from the magnanimity of their powerful ally, who +enriched them with the spoils of their enemies and protected them +against the oppression of their stronger neighbors. His strength +covered their weakness, and, inconsiderable in themselves, they +acquired weight and influence from their union with the Swedish hero. +This was the case with most of the free cities, and particularly with +the weaker Protestant states. It was these that introduced the king +into the heart of Germany; these covered his rear, supplied his troops +with necessaries, received them into their fortresses, while they +exposed their own lives in his battles. His prudent regard to their +national pride, his popular deportment, some brilliant acts of +justice, and his respect for the laws, were so many ties by which he +bound the German Protestants to his cause; while the crying atrocities +of the Imperialists, the Spaniards, and the troops of Lorraine, +powerfully contributed to set his own conduct and that of his army in +a favorable light. + +If Gustavus Adolphus owed his success chiefly to his own genius, at +the same time, it must be owned, he was greatly favored by fortune and +by circumstances. Two great advantages gave him a decided superiority +over the enemy. While he removed the scene of war into the lands of +the League, drew their youth as recruits, enriched himself with booty, +and used the revenues of their fugitive princes as his own, he at once +took from the enemy the means of effectual resistance and maintained +an expensive war with little cost to himself. And, moreover, while his +opponents, the princes of the League, divided among themselves, and +governed by different and often conflicting interests, acted without +unanimity, and therefore without energy; while their generals were +deficient in authority, their troops in obedience, the operations of +their scattered armies without concert; while the general was +separated from the lawgiver and the statesman--these several functions +were united in Gustavus Adolphus, the only source from which authority +flowed, the sole object to which the eye of the warrior turned, the +soul of his party, the inventor as well as the executor of his plans. +In him, therefore, the Protestants had a centre of unity and harmony, +which was altogether wanting to their opponents. No wonder, then, if +favored by such advantages, at the head of such an army, with such a +genius to direct it, and guided by such political prudence, Gustavus +Adolphus was irresistible. + +With the sword in one hand and mercy in the other, he traversed +Germany as a conqueror, a lawgiver, and a judge, in as short a time +almost as the tourist of pleasure. The keys of towns and fortresses +were delivered to him, as if to the native sovereign. No fortress was +inaccessible; no river checked his victorious career. He conquered by +the very terror of his name. The Swedish standards were planted along +the whole stream of the Main: the Lower Palatinate was free, the +troops of Spain and Lorraine had fled across the Rhine and the +Moselle. The Swedes and Hessians poured like a torrent into the +territories of Mentz, of Wuertzburg, and Bamberg, and three fugitive +bishops, at a distance from their sees, suffered dearly for their +unfortunate attachment to the Emperor. It was now the turn for +Maximilian, the leader of the League, to feel in his own dominions the +miseries he had inflicted upon others. Neither the terrible fate of +his allies, nor the peaceful overtures of Gustavus, who, in the midst +of conquest, ever held out the hand of friendship, could conquer the +obstinacy of this prince. The torrent of war now poured into Bavaria. +Like the banks of the Rhine, those of the Lecke and the Donau were +crowded with Swedish troops. Creeping into his fortresses, the +defeated Elector abandoned to the ravages of the foe his dominions, +hitherto unscathed by war, and on which the bigoted violence of the +Bavarians seemed to invite retaliation. Munich itself opened its gates +to the invincible monarch, and the fugitive Palatine, Frederick V., in +the forsaken residence of his rival, consoled himself for a time for +the loss of his dominions. + +While Gustavus Adolphus was extending his conquests in the south, his +generals and allies were gaining similar triumphs in the other +provinces. Lower Saxony shook off the yoke of Austria, the enemy +abandoned Mecklenburg, and the imperial garrisons retired from the +banks of the Weser and the Elbe. In Westphalia and the Upper Rhine, +William, Landgrave of Hesse, rendered himself formidable; the Duke of +Weimar in Thuringia, and the French in the Electorate of Treves; while +to the eastward the whole kingdom of Bohemia was conquered by the +Saxons. The Turks were preparing to attack Hungary, and in the heart +of Austria a dangerous insurrection was threatened. In vain did the +Emperor look around to the courts of Europe for support; in vain did +he summon the Spaniards to his assistance, for the bravery of the +Flemings afforded them ample employment beyond the Rhine; in vain did +he call upon the Roman court and the whole church to come to his +rescue. The offended Pope sported, in pompous processions and idle +anathemas, with the embarrassments of Ferdinand, and instead of the +desired subsidy he was shown the devastation of Mantua. + +On all sides of his extensive monarchy hostile arms surrounded him. +With the states of the League, now overrun by the enemy, those +ramparts were thrown down, behind which Austria had so long defended +herself, and the embers of war were now smoldering upon her unguarded +frontiers tiers. His most zealous allies were disarmed; Maximilian of +Bavaria, his firmest support, was scarce able to defend himself. His +armies, weakened by desertion and repeated defeat, and dispirited by +continued misfortunes had unlearnt, under beaten generals, that +warlike impetuosity which, as it is the consequence, so it is the +guarantee of success. The danger was extreme, and extraordinary means +alone could raise the imperial power from the degradation into which +it was fallen. + +The most urgent want was that of a general; and the only one from whom +he could hope for the revival of his former splendor had been removed +from his command by an envious cabal. So low had the Emperor now +fallen that he was forced to make the most humiliating proposals to +his injured subject and servant, and meanly to press upon the +imperious Duke of Friedland the acceptance of the powers which no less +meanly had been taken from him. A new spirit began from this moment to +animate the expiring body of Austria; and a sudden change in the +aspect of affairs bespoke the firm hand which guided them. To the +absolute King of Sweden, a general equally absolute was now opposed; +and one victorious hero was confronted with another. Both armies were +again to engage in the doubtful struggle; and the prize of victory, +already almost secured in the hands of Gustavus Adolphus, was to be +the object of another and a severer trial. The storm of war gathered +around Nuremberg; before its walls the hostile armies encamped, gazing +on each other with dread and respect, longing for, and yet shrinking +from, the moment that was to close them together in the shock of +battle. The eyes of Europe turned to the scene in curiosity and alarm, +while Nuremberg, in dismay, expected soon to lend its name to a more +decisive battle than that of Leipzig. Suddenly the clouds broke, and +the storm rolled away from Franconia, to burst upon the plains of +Saxony. Near Luetzen fell the thunder that had menaced Nuremberg; the +victory, half lost, was purchased by the death of the king. Fortune, +which had never forsaken him in his lifetime, favored the King of +Sweden even in his death, with the rare privilege of falling in the +fulness of his glory and an untarnished fame. By a timely death, his +protecting genius rescued him from the inevitable fate of man--that of +forgetting moderation in the intoxication of success, and justice in +the plenitude of power. It may be doubted whether, had he lived +longer, he would still have deserved the tears which Germany shed over +his grave, or maintained his title to the admiration with which +posterity regards him as the first and only _just_ conqueror that the +world has produced. The untimely fall of their great leader seemed to +threaten the ruin of his party; but to the Power which rules the +world, no loss of a single man is irreparable. As the helm of war +dropped from the hand of the falling hero, it was seized by two great +statesmen, Oxenstiern and Richelieu. Destiny still pursued its +relentless course, and for full sixteen years longer the flames of war +blazed over the ashes of the long-forgotten king and soldier. + +I may now be permitted to take a cursory retrospect of Gustavus +Adolphus in his victorious career; glance at the scene in which he +alone was the great actor; and then, when Austria becomes reduced to +extremity by the successes of the Swedes, and by a series of disasters +is driven to the most humiliating and desperate expedients, to return +to the history of the Emperor. + +As soon as the plan of operations had been concerted at Halle, between +the King of Sweden and the Elector of Saxony; as soon as the alliance +had been concluded with the neighboring princes of Weimar and Anhalt, +and preparations made for the recovery of the bishopric of Magdeburg, +the king began his march into the empire. He had here no despicable +foe to contend with. Within the empire, the Emperor was still +powerful; throughout Franconia, Swabia, and the Palatinate, imperial +garrisons were posted, with whom the possession of every place of +importance must be disputed sword in hand. On the Rhine he was opposed +by the Spaniards, who had overrun the territory of the banished +Elector Palatine, seized all its strong places, and would everywhere +dispute with him the passage over the river. In his rear was Tilly, +who was fast recruiting his force, and would soon be joined by the +auxiliaries from Lorraine. Every Papist presented an inveterate foe, +while his connection with France did not leave him at liberty to act +with freedom against the Roman Catholics. Gustavus had foreseen all +these obstacles, and at the same time the means by which they were to +be overcome. The strength of the Imperialists was broken and divided +among different garrisons, while he would bring against them one by +one his whole united force. If he was to be opposed by the fanaticism +of the Roman Catholics, and the awe in which the lesser states +regarded the Emperor's power, he might depend on the active support of +the Protestants, and their hatred to Austrian oppression. The ravages +of the Imperialists and Spanish troops also powerfully aided him in +these quarters where the ill-treated husbandman and citizen alike +sighed for a deliverer, and where the mere change of yoke seemed to +promise a relief. Emissaries were dispatched to gain over to the +Swedish side the principal free cities, particularly Nuremberg and +Frankfort. The first that lay in the king's march, and which he could +not leave unoccupied in his rear, was Erfurt. Here the Protestant +party among the citizens opened to him, without a blow, the gates of +the town and the citadel. From the inhabitants of this, as of every +important place which afterward submitted, he exacted an oath of +allegiance, while he secured its possession by a sufficient garrison. +To his ally, Duke William of Weimar, he intrusted the command of an +army to be raised in Thuringia. He also left his queen in Erfurt, and +promised to increase its privileges. The Swedish army now crossed the +Thuringian forest in two columns, by Gotha and Arnstadt, and having +delivered, in its march, the county of Henneberg from the +Imperialists, formed a junction on the third day near Koenigshofen, on +the frontiers of Franconia. + +Francis, Bishop of Wuertzburg, the bitter enemy of the Protestants, and +the most zealous member of the League, was the first to feel the +indignation of Gustavus Adolphus. A few threats gained for the Swedes +possession of his fortress of Koenigshofen, and with it the key of +the whole province. At the news of this rapid conquest, dismay seized +all the Roman Catholic towns of the circle. The Bishops of Wuertzburg +and Bamberg trembled in their castles; they already saw their sees +tottering, their churches profaned, and their religion degraded. The +malice of his enemies had circulated the most frightful +representations of the persecuting spirit and the mode of warfare +pursued by the Swedish king and his soldiers, which neither the +repeated assurances of the king, nor the most splendid examples of +humanity and toleration, ever entirely effaced. Many feared to suffer +at the hands of another what in similar circumstances they were +conscious of inflicting themselves. Many of the richest Roman +Catholics hastened to secure by flight their property, their religion, +and their persons, from the sanguinary fanaticism of the Swedes. The +bishop himself set the example. In the midst of the alarm, which his +bigoted zeal had caused, he abandoned his dominions, and fled to +Paris, to excite, if possible, the French ministry against the common +enemy of religion. + +The further progress of Gustavus Adolphus in the ecclesiastical +territories agreed with this brilliant commencement. Schweinfurt, and +soon afterward Wuertzburg, abandoned by their Imperial garrisons, +surrendered; but Marienberg he was obliged to carry by storm. In this +place, which was believed to be impregnable, the enemy had collected a +large store of provisions and ammunition, all of which fell into the +hands of the Swedes. The king found a valuable prize in the library of +the Jesuits, which he sent to Upsal, while his soldiers found a still +more agreeable one in the prelate's well-filled cellars; his treasures +the bishop had in good time removed. The whole bishopric followed the +example of the capital, and submitted to the Swedes. The king +compelled all the bishop's subjects to swear allegiance to himself; +and, in the absence of the lawful sovereign, appointed a regency, +one-half of whose members were Protestants. In every Roman Catholic +town which Gustavus took, he opened the churches to the Protestant +people, but without retaliating on the Papists the cruelties which +they had practised on the former. On such only as sword in hand +refused to submit, were the fearful rights of war enforced; and for +the occasional acts of violence committed by a few of the more lawless +soldiers, in the blind rage of the first attack, their humane leader +is not justly responsible. Those who were peaceably disposed, or +defenceless, were treated with mildness. It was a sacred principle of +Gustavus to spare the blood of his enemies, as well as that of his own +troops. + +On the first news of the Swedish irruption, the Bishop of Wuertzburg, +without regarding the treaty which he had entered into with the King +of Sweden, had earnestly pressed the general of the League to hasten +to the assistance of the bishopric. That defeated commander had, in +the meantime, collected on the Weser the shattered remnant of his +army, reinforced himself from the garrisons of Lower Saxony, and +effected a junction in Hesse with Altringer and Fugger, who commanded +under him. Again at the head of a considerable force, Tilly burned +with impatience to wipe out the stain of his first defeat by a +splendid victory. From his camp at Fulda, whither he had marched with +his army, he earnestly requested permission from the Duke of Bavaria +to give battle to Gustavus Adolphus. But, in the event of Tilly's +defeat, the League had no second army to fall back upon, and +Maximilian was too cautious to risk again the fate of his party on a +single battle. With tears in his eyes, Tilly read the commands of his +superior, which compelled him to inactivity. Thus his march to +Franconia was delayed, and Gustavus Adolphus gained time to overrun +the whole bishopric. It was in vain that Tilly, reinforced at +Aschaffenburg by a body of 12,000 men from Lorraine, marched with an +overwhelming force to the relief of Wuertzburg. The town and citadel +were already in the hands of the Swedes, and Maximilian of Bavaria was +generally blamed (and not without cause, perhaps) for having, by his +scruples, occasioned the loss of the bishopric. Commanded to avoid a +battle, Tilly contented himself with checking the farther advance of +the enemy; but he could save only a few of the towns from the +impetuosity of the Swedes. Baffled in an attempt to reinforce the weak +garrison of Hanau, which it was highly important to the Swedes to +gain, he crossed the Main, near Seligenstadt, and took the direction +of the Bergstrasse, to protect the Palatinate from the conqueror. + +Tilly, however, was not the sole enemy whom Gustavus Adolphus met in +Franconia and drove before him. Charles, Duke of Lorraine, celebrated +in the annals of the time for his unsteadiness of character, his vain +projects, and his misfortunes, ventured to raise a weak arm against +the Swedish hero, in the hope of obtaining from the Emperor the +electoral dignity. Deaf to the suggestions of a rational policy, he +listened only to the dictates of heated ambition; by supporting the +Emperor he exasperated France, his formidable neighbor; and in the +pursuit of a visionary phantom in another country, left undefended his +own dominions, which were instantly overrun by a French army. Austria +willingly conceded to him, as well as to the other princes of the +League, the honor of being ruined in her cause. Intoxicated with vain +hopes, this prince collected a force of 17,000 men, which he proposed +to lead in person against the Swedes. If these troops were deficient +in discipline and courage, they were at least attractive by the +splendor of their accoutrements; and however sparing they were of +their prowess against the foe, they were liberal enough with it +against the defenceless citizens and peasantry whom they were summoned +to defend. Against the bravery and the formidable discipline of the +Swedes this splendidly attired army, however, made no long stand. On +the first advance of the Swedish cavalry a panic seized them, and they +were driven without difficulty from their cantonments in Wuertzburg; +the defeat of a few regiments occasioned a general rout, and the +scattered remnant sought a covert from the Swedish valor in the towns +beyond the Rhine. Loaded with shame and ridicule, the duke hurried +home by Strasburg, too fortunate in escaping, by a submissive written +apology, the indignation of his conqueror, who had first beaten him +out of the field and then called upon him to account for his +hostilities. It is related upon this occasion that, in a village on +the Rhine a peasant struck the horse of the duke as he rode past, +exclaiming, "Haste, Sir, you must go quicker to escape the great King +of Sweden!" + +The example of his neighbors' misfortunes had taught the Bishop of +Bamberg prudence. To avert the plundering of his territories, he made +offers of peace, though these were intended only to delay the king's +course till the arrival of assistance. Gustavus Adolphus, too +honorable himself to suspect dishonesty in another, readily accepted +the bishop's proposals and named the conditions on which he was +willing to save his territories from hostile treatment. He was the +more inclined to peace, as he had no time to lose in the conquest of +Bamberg, and his other designs called him to the Rhine. The rapidity +with which he followed up these plans cost him the loss of those +pecuniary supplies which, by a longer residence in Franconia, he might +easily have extorted from the weak and terrified bishop. This artful +prelate broke off the negotiation the instant the storm of war passed +away from his own territories. No sooner had Gustavus marched onward +than he threw himself under the protection of Tilly, and received the +troops of the Emperor into the very towns and fortresses which shortly +before he had shown himself ready to open to the Swedes. By this +stratagem, however, he delayed only for a brief interval the ruin of +his bishopric. A Swedish general who had been left in Franconia, +undertook to punish the perfidy of the bishop; and the ecclesiastical +territory became the seat of war, and was ravaged alike by friends and +foes. + +The formidable presence of the Imperialists had hitherto been a check +upon the Franconian States; but their retreat, and the humane conduct +of the Swedish king, emboldened the nobility and other inhabitants of +this circle to declare in his favor. Nuremberg joyfully committed +itself to his protection; and the Franconian nobles were won to his +cause by flattering proclamations, in which he condescended to +apologize for his hostile appearance in their dominions. The fertility +of Franconia, and the rigorous honesty of the Swedish soldiers in +their dealings with the inhabitants, brought abundance to the camp of +the king. The high esteem which the nobility of the circle felt for +Gustavus, the respect and admiration with which they regarded his +brilliant exploits, the promises of rich booty which the service of +this monarch held out, greatly facilitated the recruiting of his +troops; a step which was made necessary by detaching so many garrisons +from the main body. At the sound of his drums, recruits flocked to his +standard from all quarters. + +The king had scarcely spent more time in conquering Franconia than he +would have required to cross it. He now left behind him Gustavus Horn, +one of his best generals, with a force of 8,000 men, to complete and +retain his conquest. He himself with his main army, reinforced by the +late recruits, hastened toward the Rhine in order to secure this +frontier of the empire from the Spaniards, to disarm the +ecclesiastical electors, and to obtain from their fertile territories +new resources for the prosecution of the war. Following the course of +the Main, he subjected, in the course of his march, Seligenstadt, +Aschaffenburg, Steinheim, the whole territory on both sides of the +river. The imperial garrisons seldom awaited his approach, and never +attempted resistance. In the meanwhile one of his colonels had been +fortunate enough to take by surprise the town and citadel of Hanau, +for whose preservation Tilly had shown such anxiety. Eager to be free +of the oppressive burden of the Imperialists, the Count of Hanau +gladly placed himself under the milder yoke of the King of Sweden. +Gustavus Adolphus now turned his whole attention to Frankfort, for it +was his constant maxim to cover his rear by the friendship and +possession of the more important towns. Frankfort was among the free +cities which, even from Saxony, he had endeavored to prepare for his +reception; and he now called upon it, by a summons from Offenbach, to +allow him free passage and to admit a Swedish garrison. Willingly +would this city have dispensed with the necessity of choosing between +the King of Sweden and the Emperor; for, whatever party they might +embrace, the inhabitants had a like reason to fear for their +privileges and trade. The Emperor's vengeance would certainly fall +heavily upon them, if they were in a hurry to submit to the King of +Sweden, and afterward he should prove unable to protect his adherents +in Germany. But still more ruinous for them would be the displeasure +of an irresistible conqueror, who, with a formidable army, was already +before their gates, and who might punish their opposition by the ruin +of their commerce and prosperity. In vain did their deputies plead the +danger which menaced their fairs, their privileges, perhaps their +constitution itself, if, by espousing the party of the Swedes, they +were to incur the Emperor's displeasure. Gustavus Adolphus expressed +to them his astonishment that, when the liberties of Germany and the +Protestant religion were at stake, the citizens of Frankfort should +talk of their annual fairs, and postpone for temporal interests the +great cause of their country and their conscience. He had, he +continued, in a menacing tone, found the keys of every town and +fortress, from the Isle of Rugen to the Main, and knew also where to +find a key to Frankfort; the safety of Germany, and the freedom of the +Protestant Church, were, he assured them, the sole objects of his +invasion; conscious of the justice of his cause, he was determined not +to allow any obstacle to impede his progress. "The inhabitants of +Frankfort, he was well aware, wished to stretch out only a finger to +him, but he must have the whole hand in order to have something to +grasp." At the head of the army, he closely followed the deputies as +they carried back his answer, and in order of battle awaited, near +Saxenhausen, the decision of the council. + +If Frankfort hesitated to submit to the Swedes, it was solely from +fear of the Emperor; their own inclinations did not allow them a +moment to doubt between the oppressor of Germany and its protector. +The menacing preparations amidst which Gustavus Adolphus now compelled +them to decide, would lessen the guilt of their revolt in the eyes of +the Emperor, and by an appearance of compulsion justify the step which +they willingly took. The gates were therefore opened to the King of +Sweden, who marched his army through this imperial town in magnificent +procession and in admirable order. A garrison of 600 men was left in +Saxenhausen; while the king himself advanced the same evening, with +the rest of his army, against the town of Hoechst in Mentz, which +surrendered to him before night. + +While Gustavus was thus extending his conquests along the Main, +fortune crowned also the efforts of his generals and allies in the +north of Germany. Rostock, Wismar, and Doemitz, the only strong places +in the Duchy of Mecklenburg which still sighed under the yoke of the +Imperialists, were recovered by their legitimate sovereign, the Duke +John Albert, under the Swedish general, Achatius Tott. In vain did the +imperial general, Wolf Count von Mansfeld, endeavor to recover from +the Swedes the territories of Halberstadt, of which they had taken +possession immediately upon the victory of Leipzic; he was even +compelled to leave Magdeburg itself in their hands. The Swedish +general, Banner, who with 8,000 men remained upon the Elbe, closely +blockaded that city, and had defeated several imperial regiments which +had been sent to its relief. Count Mansfeld defended it in person with +great resolution; but his garrison being too weak to oppose for any +length of time the numerous force of the besiegers, he was already +about to surrender on conditions, when Pappenheim advanced to his +assistance, and gave employment elsewhere to the Swedish arms. +Magdeburg, however, or rather the wretched huts that peeped out +miserably from among the ruins of that once great town, was afterward +voluntarily abandoned by the Imperialists and immediately taken +possession of by the Swedes. + +Even Lower Saxony, encouraged by the progress of the king, ventured to +raise its head from the disasters of the unfortunate Danish war. They +held a congress at Hamburg, and resolved upon raising three regiments, +which they hoped would be sufficient to free them from the oppressive +garrisons of the Imperialists. The Bishop of Bremen, a relation of +Gustavus Adolphus, was not content even with this; but assembled +troops of his own, and terrified the unfortunate monks and priests of +the neighborhood, but was quickly compelled by the imperial general, +Count Gronsfeld, to lay down his arms. Even George, Duke of Lueneburg, +formerly a colonel in the Emperor's service, embraced the party of +Gustavus, for whom he raised several regiments, and by occupying the +attention of the Imperialists in Lower Saxony, materially assisted +him. + +But more important service was rendered to the king by the Landgrave +William of Hesse Cassel, whose victorious arms struck with terror the +greater part of Westphalia and Lower Saxony, the bishopric of Fulda, +and even the Electorate of Cologne. It has been already stated that +immediately after the conclusion of the alliance between the Landgrave +and Gustavus Adolphus at Werben, two imperial generals, Fugger and +Altringer, were ordered by Tilly to march into Hesse, to punish the +Landgrave for his revolt from the Emperor. But this prince had as +firmly withstood the arms of his enemies, as his subjects had the +proclamations of Tilly inciting them to rebellion, and the battle of +Leipzic presently relieved him of their presence. He availed himself +of their absence with courage and resolution; in a short time, Vach, +Mueinden and Hoexter surrendered to him, while his rapid advance +alarmed the bishoprics of Fulda, Paderborn, and the ecclesiastical +territories which bordered on Hesse. The terrified states hastened by +a speedy submission to set limits to his progress, and by considerable +contributions to purchase exemption from plunder. After these +successful enterprises, the Landgrave united his victorious army with +that of Gustavus Adolphus, and concerted with him at Frankfort their +future plan of operations. + +In this city, a number of princes and ambassadors were assembled to +congratulate Gustavus on his success, and either to conciliate his +favor or to appease his indignation. Among them was the fugitive King +of Bohemia, the Palatine Frederick V., who had hastened from Holland +to throw himself into the arms of his avenger and protector. Gustavus +gave him the unprofitable honor of greeting him as a crowned head, and +endeavored, by a respectful sympathy, to soften his sense of his +misfortunes. But great as the advantages were, which Frederick had +promised himself from the power and good fortune of his protector; and +high as were the expectations he had built on his justice and +magnanimity, the chance of this unfortunate prince's reinstatement in +his kingdom was as distant as ever. The inactivity and contradictory +policies of the English court had abated the zeal of Gustavus +Adolphus, and an irritability which he could not always repress made +him on this occasion forget the glorious vocation of protector of the +oppressed, in which, on his invasion of Germany, he had so loudly +announced himself. + +The terrors of the king's irresistible strength, and the near prospect +of his vengeance, had also compelled George, Landgrave of Hesse +Darmstadt, to a timely submission. His connection with the Emperor, +and his indifference to the Protestant cause, were no secret to the +king, but he was satisfied with laughing at so impotent an enemy. As +the Landgrave knew his own strength and the political situation of +Germany so little as to offer himself as mediator between the +contending parties, Gustavus used jestingly to call him the +peacemaker. He was frequently heard to say, when at play he was +winning from the Landgrave, "that the money afforded double +satisfaction, as it was Imperial coin." To his affinity with the +Elector of Saxony, whom Gustavus had cause to treat with forbearance, +the Landgrave was indebted for the favorable terms he obtained from +the king, who contented himself with the surrender of his fortress of +Ruesselheim and his promise of observing a strict neutrality during the +war. The Counts of Westerwald and Wetterau also visited the king in +Frankfort, to offer him their assistance against the Spaniards, and to +conclude an alliance, which was afterward of great service to him. The +town of Frankfort itself had reason to rejoice at the presence of this +monarch, who took their commerce under his protection, and by the most +effectual measures restored the fairs, which had been greatly +interrupted by the war. + +The Swedish army was now reinforced by ten thousand Hessians, which +the Landgrave of Casse commanded. Gustavus Adolphus had already +invested Koenigstein; Kostheim and Floersheim surrendered after a short +siege; he was in command of the Main; and transports were preparing +with all speed at Hoechst to carry his troops across the Rhine. These +preparations filled the Elector of Mentz, Anselm Casimir, with +consternation; and he no longer doubted but that the storm of war +would next fall upon him. As a partisan of the Emperor, and one of the +most active members of the League, he could expect no better treatment +than his confederates, the Bishops of Wuertzburg and Bamberg, had +already experienced. The situation of his territories upon the Rhine +made it necessary for the enemy to secure them, while their fertility +afforded an irresistible temptation to a necessitous army. +Miscalculating his own strength and that of his adversaries, the +Elector flattered himself that he was able to repel force by force, +and weary out the valor of the Swedes by the strength of his +fortresses. He ordered the fortifications of his capital to be +repaired with all diligence, provided it with every necessary for +sustaining a long siege, and received into the town a garrison of +2,000 Spaniards, under Don Philip de Sylva. To prevent the approach of +the Swedish transports, he endeavored to close the mouth of the Main +by driving piles and sinking large heaps of stones and vessels. He +himself, however, accompanied by the Bishop of Worms, and carrying +with him his most precious effects, took refuge in Cologne, and +abandoned his capital and territories to the rapacity of a tyrannical +garrison. But these preparations, which bespoke less of true courage +than of weak and overweening confidence, did not prevent the Swedes +from marching against Mentz and making serious preparations for an +attack upon the city. While one body of their troops poured into the +Rheingau, routed the Spaniards who remained there, and levied +contributions on the inhabitants, another laid the Roman Catholic +towns in Westerwald and Wetterau under similar contributions. The main +army had encamped at Cassel, opposite Mentz; and Bernhard, Duke of +Weimar, made himself master of the Maeusethurm and the Castle of +Ehrenfels, on the other side of the Rhine. Gustavus was now actively +preparing to cross the river and to blockade the town on the land +side, when the movements of Tilly in Franconia suddenly called him +from the siege, and obtained for the Elector a short repose. + +The danger of Nuremberg, which, during the absence of Gustavus +Adolphus on the Rhine, Tilly had made a show of besieging, and, in the +event of resistance, threatened with the cruel fate of Magdeburg, +occasioned the king suddenly to retire from before Mentz. Lest he +should expose himself a second time to the reproaches of Germany, and +the disgrace of abandoning a confederate city to a ferocious enemy, he +hastened to its relief by forced marches. On his arrival at Frankfort, +however, he heard of its spirited resistance, and of the retreat of +Tilly, and lost not a moment in prosecuting his designs against Mentz. +Failing in an attempt to cross the Rhine at Cassel, under the cannon +of the besieged, he directed his march toward the Bergstrasse, with a +view of approaching the town from an opposite quarter. Here he quickly +made himself master of all the places of importance, and at +Stockstadt, between Gernsheim and Oppenheim, appeared a second time +upon the banks of the Rhine. The whole of the Bergstrasse was +abandoned by the Spaniards, who endeavored obstinately to defend the +other bank of the river. For this purpose, they had burned or sunk all +the vessels in the neighborhood, and arranged a formidable force on +the banks, in case the king should attempt the passage at that place. + +On this occasion, the king's impetuosity exposed him to great danger +of falling into the hands of the enemy. In order to reconnoitre the +opposite bank, he crossed the river in a small boat; he had scarcely +landed when he was attacked by a party of Spanish horse, from whose +hands he saved himself only by a precipitate retreat. Having at last, +with the assistance of the neighboring fishermen, succeeded in +procuring a few transport, he dispatched two of them across the river, +bearing Count Brahe and 300 Swedes. Scarcely had this officer time to +intrench himself on the opposite bank, when he was attacked by 14 +squadrons of Spanish dragoons and cuirassiers. Superior as the enemy +was in numbers, Count Brahe, with his small force, bravely defended +himself, and gained time for the king to support him with fresh +troops. The Spaniards at last retired with the loss of 600 men, some +taking refuge in Oppenheim, and others in Mentz. A lion of marble on a +high pillar, holding a naked sword in his paw, and a helmet on his +head, was erected seventy years after the event, to point out to the +traveler the spot where the immortal monarch crossed the great river +of Germany. + +Gustavus Adolphus now conveyed his artillery and the greater part of +his troops over the river, and laid siege to Oppenheim, which, after a +brave resistance, was, on December 8, 1631, carried by storm. Five +hundred Spaniards, who had so courageously defended the place, fell +indiscriminately a sacrifice to the fury of the Swedes. The crossing +of the Rhine by Gustavus struck terror into the Spaniards and +Lorrainers, who had thought themselves protected by the river from the +vengeance of the Swedes. Rapid flight was now their only security; +every place incapable of an effectual defence was immediately +abandoned. After a long train of outrages on the defenceless citizens, +the troops of Lorraine evacuated Worms, which, before their departure, +they treated with wanton cruelty. The Spaniards hastened to shut +themselves up in Frankenthal, where they hoped to defy the victorious +arms of Gustavus Adolphus. + +The king lost no time in prosecuting his designs against Mentz, into +which the flower of the Spanish troops had thrown themselves. While he +advanced on the left bank of the Rhine, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel +moved forward on the other, reducing several strong places on his +march. The besieged Spaniards, though hemmed in on both sides, +displayed at first a bold determination, and threw, for several days, +a shower of bombs into the Swedish camp, which cost the king many of +his bravest soldiers. But notwithstanding, the Swedes continually +gained ground, and had at last advanced so close to the ditch that +they prepared seriously for storming the place. The courage of the +besieged now began to droop. They trembled before the furious +impetuosity of the Swedish soldiers, of which Marienberg, in +Wuertzburg, had afforded so fearful an example. The same dreadful fate +awaited Mentz, if taken by storm; and the enemy might even be easily +tempted to revenge the carnage of Magdeburg on this rich and +magnificent residence of a Roman Catholic prince. To save the town, +rather than their own lives, the Spanish garrison capitulated on the +fourth day, and obtained from the magnanimity of Gustavus a safe +conduct to Luxemburg; the greater part of them, however, following the +example of many others, enlisted in the service of Sweden. + +On the 13th of December, 1631, the king made his entry into the +conquered town, and fixed his quarters in the palace of the Elector. +Eighty pieces of cannon fell into his hands, and the citizens were +obliged to redeem their property from pillage by a payment of 80,000 +florins. The benefits of this redemption did not extend to the Jews +and the clergy, who were obliged to make large and separate +contributions for themselves. The library of the Elector was seized by +the king as his share, and presented by him to his chancellor, +Oxenstiern, who intended it for the Academy of Westerrah, but the +vessel in which it was shipped to Sweden foundered at sea. + +After the loss of Mentz, misfortune still pursued the Spaniards on the +Rhine. Shortly before the capture of that city, the Landgrave of Hesse +Cassel had taken Falkenstein and Reifenberg, and the fortress of +Koeningstein surrendered to the Hessians. The Rhinegrave, Otto Louis, +one of the king's generals, defeated nine Spanish squadrons who were +on their march for Frankenthal, and made himself master of the most +important towns upon the Rhine, from Boppart to Bacharach. After the +capture of the fortress of Braunfels, which was effected by the Count +of Wetterau, with the cooeperation of the Swedes, the Spaniards quickly +lost every place in Wetterau, while in the Palatine they retained few +places besides Frankenthal. Landau and Kronweisenberg openly declared +for the Swedes; Spires offered troops for the king's service; Mannheim +was gained through the prudence of the Duke Bernard of Weimar and the +negligence of its governor, who, for this misconduct, was tried before +the council of war, at Heidelberg, and beheaded. + +The king had protracted the campaign into the depth of winter, and the +severity of the season was perhaps one cause of the advantage his +soldiers gained over those of the enemy. But the exhausted troops now +stood in need of the repose of winter quarters, which, after the +surrender of Mentz, Gustavus assigned to them in its neighborhood. He +himself employed the interval of inactivity in the field, which the +season of the year enjoined, in arranging, with his chancellor, the +affairs of his cabinet, in treating for a neutrality with some of his +enemies, and adjusting some political disputes which had sprung up +with a neighboring ally. He chose the city of Mentz for his winter +quarters, and the settlement of these state affairs, and showed a +greater partiality for this town than seemed consistent with the +interests of the German princes, or the shortness of his visit to the +Empire. Not content with strongly fortifying it, he erected at the +opposite angle which the Main forms with the Rhine, a new citadel, +which was named Gustavusburg from its founder, but which is better +known under the title of Pfaffenraub or Pfaffenzwang.[60] + +While Gustavus Adolphus made himself master of the Rhine, and +threatened the three neighboring electorates with his victorious arms, +his vigilant enemies in Paris and St. Germain's made use of every +artifice to deprive him of the support of France, and, if possible, to +involve him in a war with that power. By his sudden and equivocal +march to the Rhine, he had surprised his friends, and furnished his +enemies with the means of exciting a distrust of his intentions. After +the conquest of Wuertzburg, and of the greater part of Franconia, the +road into Bavaria and Austria lay open to him through Bamberg and the +Upper Palatinate; and the expectation was as general, as it was +natural, that he would not delay to attack the Emperor and the Duke of +Bavaria in the very centre of their power, and, by the reduction of +his two principal enemies, bring the war immediately to an end. But to +the surprise of both parties, Gustavus left the path which general +expectation had thus marked out for him; and instead of advancing to +the right, turned to the left, to make the less important and more +innocent princes of the Rhine feel his power, while he gave time to +his more formidable opponents to recruit their strength. Nothing but +the paramount design of reinstating the unfortunate Palatine, +Frederick V., in the possession of his territories, by the expulsion +of the Spaniards, could seem to account for this strange step; and +the belief that Gustavus was about to effect that restoration silenced +for a while the suspicions of his friends and the calumnies of his +enemies. But the Lower Palatinate was now almost entirely cleared of +the enemy; and yet Gustavus continued to form new schemes of conquest +on the Rhine, and to withhold the reconquered country from the +Palatine, its rightful owner. In vain did the English ambassador +remind him of what justice demanded, and what his own solemn +engagement made a duty of honor; Gustavus replied to these demands +with bitter complaints of the inactivity of the English court, and +prepared to carry his victorious standard into Alsace, and even into +Lorraine. + +A distrust of the Swedish monarch was now loud and open, while the +malice of his enemies busily circulated the most injurious reports as +to his intentions. Richelieu, the minister of Louis XIII., had long +witnessed with anxiety the king's progress toward the French frontier, +and the suspicious temper of Louis rendered him but too accessible to +the evil surmises which the occasion gave rise to. France was at this +time involved in a civil war with her Protestant subjects, and the +fear was not altogether groundless that the approach of a victorious +monarch of their party might revive their drooping spirit, and +encourage them to a more desperate resistance. This might be the case, +even if Gustavus Adolphus was far from showing a disposition to +encourage them, or to act unfaithfully toward his ally, the King of +France. But the vindictive Bishop of Wuertzburg, who was anxious to +avenge the loss of his dominions, the envenomed rhetoric of the +Jesuits and the active zeal of the Bavarian minister, represented this +dreaded alliance between the Huguenots and the Swedes as an undoubted +fact, and filled the timid mind of Louis with the most alarming fears. +Not merely chimerical politicians, but many of the best informed Roman +Catholics, fully believed that the king was on the point of breaking +into the heart of France, to make common cause with the Huguenots, and +to overturn the Catholic religion within the kingdom. Fanatical +zealots already saw him, with his army, crossing the Alps, and +dethroning the Vice-regent of Christ in Italy. Such reports no doubt +soon refute themselves; yet it cannot be denied that Gustavus, by his +manoeuvres on the Rhine, gave a dangerous handle to the malice of his +enemies, and in some measure justified the suspicion that he directed +his arms, not so much against the Emperor and the Duke of Bavaria, as +against the Roman Catholic religion itself. + +The general clamor of discontent which the Jesuits raised in all the +Catholic courts against the alliance between France and the enemy of +the church, at last compelled Cardinal Richelieu to take a decisive +step for the security of his religion, and at once to convince the +Roman Catholic world of the zeal of France, and of the selfish policy +of the ecclesiastical states of Germany. Convinced that the views of +the King of Sweden, like his own, aimed solely at the humiliation of +the power of Austria, he hesitated not to promise to the princes of +the League, on the part of Sweden, a complete neutrality, immediately +they abandoned their alliance with the Emperor and withdrew their +troops. Whatever the resolution these princes should adopt, Richelieu +would equally attain his object. By their separation from the Austrian +interest, Ferdinand would be exposed to the combined attack of France +and Sweden; and Gustavus Adolphus, freed from his other enemies in +Germany, would be able to direct his undivided force against the +hereditary dominions of Austria. In that event, the fall of Austria +was inevitable, and this great object of Richelieu's policy would be +gained without injury to the church. If, on the other hand, the +princes of the League persisted in their opposition and adhered to the +Austrian alliance, the result would indeed be more doubtful, but still +France would have sufficiently proved to all Europe the sincerity of +her attachment to the Catholic cause, and performed her duty as a +member of the Roman Church. The princes of the League would then +appear the sole authors of those evils, which the continuance of the +war would unavoidably bring upon the Roman Catholics of Germany; they +alone, by their wilful and obstinate adherence to the Emperor, would +frustrate the measures employed for their protection, involve the +church in danger, and themselves in ruin. + +Richelieu pursued this plan with greater zeal, the more he was +embarrassed by the repeated demands of the Elector of Bavaria for +assistance from France; for this prince, as already stated, when he +first began to entertain suspicion of the Emperor, entered immediately +into a secret alliance with France, by which, in the event of any +change in the Emperor's sentiments, he hoped to secure the possession +of the Palatinate. But though the origin of the treaty clearly showed +against what enemy it was directed, Maximilian now thought proper to +make use of it against the King of Sweden, and did not hesitate to +demand from France that assistance against her ally which she had +simply promised against Austria. Richelieu, embarrassed by this +conflicting alliance with two hostile powers, had no resource left but +to endeavor to put a speedy termination to their hostilities; and as +little inclined to sacrifice Bavaria, as he was disabled, by his +treaty with Sweden, from assisting it, he set himself, with all +diligence, to bring about a neutrality as the only means of fulfilling +his obligations to both. For this purpose, the Marquis of Breze was +sent, as his plenipotentiary, to the King of Sweden at Mentz, to learn +his sentiments on this point, and to procure from him favorable +conditions for the allied princes. But if Louis XIII. had powerful +motives for wishing for this neutrality, Gustavus Adolphus had as +grave reasons for desiring the contrary. Convinced by numerous proofs +that the hatred of the princes of the League to the Protestant +religion was invincible, their aversion to the foreign power of the +Swedes inextinguishable, and their attachment to the House of Austria +irrevocable, he apprehended less danger from their open hostility than +from a neutrality which was so little in unison with their real +inclinations; and, moreover, as he was constrained to carry on the war +in Germany at the expense of the enemy, he manifestly sustained great +loss if he diminished their number without increasing that of his +friends. It was not surprising, therefore, if Gustavus evinced little +inclination to purchase the neutrality of the League, by which he was +likely to gain so little, at the expense of the advantages he had +already obtained. + +The conditions, accordingly, upon which he offered to adopt the +neutrality toward Bavaria were severe, and suited to these views. He +required of the whole League a full and entire cessation from all +hostilities; the recall of their troops from the imperial army, from +the conquered towns, and from all the Protestant countries; the +reduction of their military force; the exclusion of the imperial +armies from their territories, and from supplies either of men, +provisions, or ammunition. Hard as the conditions were, which the +victor thus imposed upon the vanquished, the French mediator flattered +himself he should be able to induce the Elector of Bavaria to accept +them. In order to give time for an accommodation, Gustavus had agreed +to a cessation of hostilities for a fortnight. But at the very time +when this monarch was receiving from the French agents repeated +assurances of the favorable progress of the negotiation, an +intercepted letter from the Elector to Pappenheim, the imperial +general in Westphalia, revealed the perfidy of that prince, as having +no other object in view by the whole negotiation than to gain time for +his measures of defence. Far from intending to fetter his military +operations by a truce with Sweden, the artful prince hastened his +preparations, and employed the leisure which his enemy afforded him, +in making the most active dispositions for resistance. The negotiation +accordingly failed, and served only to increase the animosity of the +Bavarians and the Swedes. + +Tilly's augmented force, with which he threatened to overrun +Franconia, urgently required the king's presence in that circle; but +it was necessary to expel previously the Spaniards from the Rhine, and +to cut off their means of invading Germany from the Netherlands. With +this view, Gustavus Adolphus had made an offer of neutrality to the +Elector of Treves, Philip von Zeltern, on condition that the fortress +of Hermanstein should be delivered up to him, and a free passage +granted to his troops through Coblentz. But unwillingly as the Elector +had beheld the Spaniards within his territories, he was still less +disposed to commit his estates to the suspicious protection of a +heretic, and to make the Swedish conqueror master of his destinies. +Too weak to maintain his independence between two such powerful +competitors, he took refuge in the protection of France. With his +usual prudence, Richelieu profited by the embarrassments of this +prince to augment the power of France, and to gain for her an +important ally on the German frontier. A numerous French army was +dispatched to protect the territory of Treves, and a French garrison +was received into Ehrenbreitstein. But the object which had moved the +Elector to this bold step was not completely gained, for the offended +pride of Gustavus Adolphus was not appeased till he had obtained a +free passage for his troops through Treves. + +Pending these negotiations with Treves and France, the king's generals +had entirely cleared the territory of Mentz of the Spanish garrisons, +and Gustavus himself completed the conquest of this district by the +capture of Kreutznach. To protect these conquests, the chancellor +Oxenstiern was left with a division of the army upon the Middle Rhine, +while the main body, under the king himself, began its march against +the enemy in Franconia. + +The possession of this circle had, in the meantime, been disputed with +variable success between Count Tilly and the Swedish General Horn, +whom Gustavus had left there with 8,000 men; and the Bishopric of +Bamberg, in particular, was at once the prize and the scene of their +struggle. Called away to the Rhine by his other projects, the king had +left to his general the chastisement of the bishop, whose perfidy had +excited his indignation, and the activity of Horn justified the +choice. In a short time, he subdued the greater part of the bishopric; +and the capital itself, abandoned by its imperial garrison, was +carried by storm. The banished bishop urgently demanded assistance +from the Elector of Bavaria, who was at length persuaded to put an end +to Tilly's inactivity. Fully empowered by his master's order to +restore the bishop to his possessions, this general collected his +troops, who were scattered over the Upper Palatinate, and with an army +of 20,000 men advanced upon Bamberg. Firmly resolved to maintain his +conquest even against this overwhelming force, Horn awaited the enemy +within the walls of Bamberg; but was obliged to yield to the vanguard +of Tilly what he had thought to be able to dispute with his whole +army. A panic which suddenly seized his troops, and which no presence +of mind of their general could check, opened the gates to the enemy, +and it was with difficulty that the troops, baggage, and artillery +were saved. The reconquest of Bamberg was the fruit of this victory; +but Tilly, with all his activity, was unable to overtake the Swedish +general, who retired in good order behind the Main. The king's +appearance in Franconia, and his junction with Gustavus Horn at +Kitzingen, put a stop to Tilly's conquests, and compelled him to +provide for his own safety by a rapid retreat. + +The king made a general review of his troops at Aschaffenburg. After +his junction with Gustavus Horn, Banner, and Duke William of Weimar, +they amounted to nearly 40,000 men. His progress through Franconia was +uninterrupted; for Tilly, far too weak to encounter an enemy so +superior in numbers, had retreated, by rapid marches, toward the +Danube. Bohemia and Bavaria were now equally near to the king, and, +uncertain whither his victorious course might be directed, Maximilian +could form no immediate resolution. The choice, of the king, and the +fate of both provinces, now depended on the road that should be left +open to Count Tilly. It was dangerous, during the approach of so +formidable an enemy, to leave Bavaria undefended, in order to protect +Austria; still more dangerous, by receiving Tilly into Bavaria, to +draw thither the enemy also, and to render it the seat of a +destructive war. The cares of the sovereign finally overcame the +scruples of the statesman, and Tilly received orders, at all hazards, +to cover the frontiers of Bavaria with his army. + +Nuremberg received with triumphant joy the protector of the Protestant +religion and German freedom, and the enthusiasm of the citizens +expressed itself on his arrival in loud transports of admiration and +joy. Even Gustavus could not contain his astonishment, to see himself +in this city, which was the very centre of Germany, where he had never +expected to be able to penetrate. The noble appearance of his person +completed the impression produced by his glorious exploits, and the +condescension with which he received the congratulations of this free +city won all hearts. He now confirmed the alliance he had concluded +with it on the shores of the Baltic, and excited the citizens to +zealous activity and fraternal unity against the common enemy. After a +short stay in Nuremberg, he followed his army to the Danube, and +appeared unexpectedly before the frontier town of Donauwerth. A +numerous Bavarian garrison defended the place; and their commander, +Rodolph Maximilian, Duke of Saxe Lauenburg, showed at first a resolute +determination to defend it till the arrival of Tilly. But the vigor +with which Gustavus Adolphus prosecuted the siege soon compelled him +to take measures for a speedy and secure retreat, which amidst a +tremendous fire from the Swedish artillery he successfully executed. + +The conquest of Donauwerth opened to the king the further side of the +Danube, and now the small river Lech alone separated him from Bavaria. +The immediate danger of his dominions aroused all Maximilian's +activity; and however little he had hitherto disturbed the enemy's +progress to his frontier, he now determined to dispute as resolutely +the remainder of their course. On the opposite bank of the Lech, near +the small town of Rain, Tilly occupied a strongly fortified camp, +which, surrounded by three rivers, bade defiance to all attack. All +the bridges over the Lech were destroyed; the whole course of the +stream protected by strong garrisons as far as Augsburg; and that town +itself, which had long betrayed its impatience to follow the example +of Nuremberg and Frankfort, secured by a Bavarian garrison, and the +disarming of its inhabitants. The Elector himself, with all the troops +he could collect, threw himself into Tilly's camp, as if all his hopes +centred on this single point, and here the good fortune of the Swedes +was to suffer shipwreck forever. + +Gustavus Adolphus, after subduing the whole territory of Augsburg, on +his own side of the river, and opening to his troops a rich supply of +necessaries from that quarter, soon appeared on the bank opposite the +Bavarian intrenchments. It was now the month of March, when the river, +swollen by frequent rains and the melting of the snow from the +mountains of the Tyrol, flowed full and rapid between its steep banks. +Its boiling current threatened the rash assailants with certain +destruction, while from the opposite side the enemy's cannon showed +their murderous mouths. If, in despite of the fury both of fire and +water, they should accomplish this almost impossible passage, a fresh +and vigorous enemy awaited the exhausted troops in an impregnable +camp; and when they needed repose and refreshment they must prepare +for battle. With exhausted powers they must ascend the hostile +intrenchments, whose strength seemed to bid defiance to every assault. +A defeat sustained upon this shore would be attended with inevitable +destruction, since the same stream which impeded their advance would +also cut off their retreat, if fortune should abandon them. + +The Swedish council of war, which the king now assembled, strongly +urged upon him all these considerations, in order to deter him from +this dangerous undertaking. The most intrepid were appalled, and a +troop of honorable warriors, who had grown gray in the field, did not +hesitate to express their alarm. But the king's resolution was fixed. +"What!" said he to Gustavus Horn, who spoke for the rest, "have we +crossed the Baltic, and so many great rivers of Germany, and shall we +now be checked by a brook like the Lech?" Gustavus had already, at a +great personal risk, reconnoitred the whole country, and discovered +that his own side of the river was higher than the other, and +consequently gave a considerable advantage to the fire of the Swedish +artillery over that of the enemy. With great presence of mind he +determined to profit by this circumstance. At the point where the left +bank of the Lech forms an angle with the right, he immediately caused +three batteries to be erected, from which 72 field-pieces maintained a +cross fire upon the enemy. While this tremendous cannonade drove the +Bavarians from the opposite bank, he caused to be erected a bridge +over the river with all possible rapidity. A thick smoke, kept up by +burning wood and wet straw, concealed for some time the progress of +the work from the enemy, while the continued thunder of the cannon +overpowered the noise of the axes. He kept alive by his own example +the courage of his troops, and discharged more than 60 cannon with his +own hand. The cannonade was returned by the Bavarians with equal +vivacity for two hours, though with less effect, as the Swedish +batteries swept the lower opposite bank, while their height served as +a breast-work to their own troops. In vain, therefore, did the +Bavarians attempt to destroy these works; the superior fire of the +Swedes threw them into disorder, and the bridge was completed under +their very eyes. On this dreadful day, Tilly did everything in his +power to encourage his troops; and no danger could drive him from the +bank. At length he found the death which he sought--a cannon ball +shattered his leg; and Altringer, his brave companion-in-arms, was, +soon after, dangerously wounded in the head. Deprived of the animating +presence of their two generals, the Bavarians gave way at last, and +Maximilian, in spite of his own judgment, was driven to adopt a +pusillanimous resolve. Overcome by the persuasions of the dying +Tilly, whose wonted firmness was overpowered by the near approach of +death, he gave up his impregnable position for lost; and the discovery +by the Swedes of a ford, by which their cavalry were on the point of +passing, accelerated his inglorious retreat. The same night, before a +single soldier of the enemy had crossed the Lech, he broke up his +camp, and, without giving time for the king to harass him in his +march, retreated in good order to Neuburg and Ingolstadt. With +astonishment did Gustavus Adolphus, who completed the passage of the +river on the following day, behold the hostile camp abandoned: and the +Elector's flight surprised him still more, when he saw the strength of +the position he had quitted. "Had I been the Bavarian," said he, +"though a cannon ball had carried away my beard and chin, never would +I have abandoned a position like this, and laid open my territory to +my enemies." + +Bavaria now lay exposed to the conqueror; and, for the first time, the +tide of war, which had hitherto only beat against its frontier, now +flowed over its long spared and fertile fields. Before, however, the +king proceeded to the conquest of these provinces, he delivered the +town of Augsburg from the yoke of Bavaria; exacted an oath of +allegiance from the citizens; and to secure its observance, left a +garrison in the town. He then advanced, by rapid marches, against +Ingolstadt, in order, by the capture of this important fortress, which +the Elector covered with the greater part of his army, to secure his +conquest in Bavaria, and obtain a firm footing on the Danube. + +Shortly after the appearance of the Swedish King before Ingolstadt, +the wounded Tilly, after experiencing the caprice of unstable fortune, +terminated his career within the walls of that town. Conquered by the +superior generalship of Gustavus Adolphus, he lost, at the close of +his days, all the laurels of his earlier victories, and appeased, by a +series of misfortunes, the demands of justice, and the avenging manes +of Magdeburg. In his death, the Imperial army and that of the League +sustained an irreparable loss; the Roman Catholic religion was +deprived of its most zealous defender, and Maximilian of Bavaria of +the most faithful of his servants, who sealed his fidelity by his +death, and even in his dying moments fulfilled the duties of a +general. His last message to the Elector was an urgent advice to take +possession of Ratisbon, in order to maintain the command of the +Danube, and to keep open the communication with Bohemia. + +With the confidence which was the natural fruit of so many victories, +Gustavus Adolphus commenced the siege of Ingolstadt, hoping to gain +the town by the fury of his first assault. But the strength of its +fortifications, and the bravery of its garrison, presented obstacles +greater than any he had had to encounter since the battle of +Breitenfeld, and the walls of Ingolstadt were near putting an end to +his career. While reconnoitering the works, a 24-pounder killed his +horse under him, and he fell to the ground, while almost immediately +afterward another ball struck his favorite, the young Margrave of +Baden, by his side. With perfect self-possession the king rose, and +quieted the fears of his troops by immediately mounting another horse. + +The occupation of Ratisbon by the Bavarians, who, by the advice of +Tilly, had surprised this town by stratagem, and placed in it a strong +garrison, quickly changed the king's plan of operations. He had +flattered himself with the hope of gaining this town, which favored +the Protestant cause, and to find in it an ally as devoted to him as +Nuremberg, Augsburg, and Frankfort. Its seizure by the Bavarians +seemed to postpone for a long time the fulfilment of his favorite +project of making himself master of the Danube, and cutting off his +adversaries' supplies from Bohemia. He suddenly raised the siege of +Ingoldstadt, before which he had wasted both his time and his troops, +and penetrated into the interior of Bavaria, in order to draw the +Elector into that quarter for the defence of his territories, and thus +to strip the Danube of its defenders. + +The whole country, as far as Munich, now lay open to the conqueror. +Mosburg, Landshut, and the whole territory of Freysingen, submitted; +nothing could resist his arms. But if he met with no regular force to +oppose his progress, he had to contend against a still more implacable +enemy in the heart of every Bavarian--religious fanaticism. Soldiers +who did not believe in the Pope were, in this country, a new and +unheard-of phenomenon; the blind zeal of the priests represented them +to the peasantry as monsters, the children of hell, and their leader +as Antichrist. No wonder, then, if they thought themselves released +from all the ties of nature and humanity toward this brood of Satan, +and justified in committing the most savage atrocities upon them. Woe +to the Swedish soldier who fell into their hands! All the torments +which inventive malice could devise were exercised upon these unhappy +victims; and the sight of their mangled bodies exasperated the army to +a fearful retaliation. Gustavus Adolphus, alone, sullied the lustre of +his heroic character by no act of revenge; and the aversion which the +Bavarians felt toward his religion, far from making him depart from +the obligations of humanity toward that unfortunate people, seemed to +impose upon him the stricter duty to honor his religion by a more +constant clemency. + +The approach of the king spread terror and consternation in the +capital, which, stripped of its defenders, and abandoned by its +principal inhabitants, placed all its hopes in the magnanimity of the +conqueror. By an unconditional and voluntary surrender, it hoped to +disarm his vengeance, and sent deputies even to Freysingen to lay at +his feet the keys of the city. Strongly as the king might have been +tempted by the inhumanity of the Bavarians, and the hostility of their +sovereign, to make a dreadful use of the rights of victory; pressed as +he was by Germans to avenge the fate of Magdeburg on the capital of +its destroyer, this great prince scorned this mean revenge; and the +very helplessness of his enemies disarmed his severity. Contented with +the more noble triumph of conducting the Palatine Frederick with the +pomp of a victor into the very palace of the prince who had been the +chief instrument of his ruin and the usurper of his territories, he +heightened the brilliancy of his triumphal entry by the brighter +splendor of moderation and clemency. + +The king found in Munich only a forsaken palace, for the Elector's +treasures had been transported to Werfen. The magnificence of the +building astonished him; and he asked the guide who showed the +apartments, who was the architect. "No other," replied he, "than the +Elector himself."--"I wish," said the King, "I had this architect to +send to Stockholm." "That," he was answered, "the architect will take +care to prevent." When the arsenal was examined, they found nothing +but carriages, stripped of their cannon. The latter had been so +artfully concealed under the floor that no traces of them remained; +and but for the treachery of a workman, the deceit would not have been +detected. "Rise up from the dead," said the King, "and come to +judgment." The floor was pulled up, and 140 pieces of cannon +discovered, some of extraordinary calibre, which had been principally +taken in the Palatinate and Bohemia. A treasure of 30,000 gold ducats, +concealed in one of the largest, completed the pleasure which the King +received from this valuable acquisition. + +A far more welcome spectacle still would have been the Bavarian army +itself; for his march into the heart of Bavaria had been undertaken +chiefly with the view of luring them from their intrenchments. In this +expectation he was disappointed. No enemy appeared; no entreaties, +however urgent, on the part of his subjects, could induce the Elector +to risk the remainder of his army to the chances of a battle. Shut up +in Ratisbon, he awaited the reinforcements which Wallenstein was +bringing from Bohemia; and endeavored, in the meantime, to amuse his +enemy and keep him inactive, by reviving the negotiation for a +neutrality. But the King's distrust, too often and too justly excited +by his previous conduct, frustrated this design; and the intentional +delay of Wallenstein abandoned Bavaria to the Swedes. + +Thus far had Gustavus advanced from victory to victory, without +meeting with an enemy able to cope with him. A part of Bavaria and +Swabia, the Bishoprics of Franconia, the Lower Palatinate, and the +Archbishopric of Mentz, lay conquered in his rear. An uninterrupted +career of conquest had conducted him to the threshold of Austria; and +the most brilliant success had fully justified the plan of operations +which he had formed after the battle of Breitenfeld. If he had not +succeeded to his wish in promoting a confederacy among the Protestant +States, he had at least disarmed or weakened the League, carried on +the war chiefly at its expense, lessened the Emperor's resources, +emboldened the weaker States, and while he laid under contribution the +allies of the Emperor, forced a way through their territories into +Austria itself. Where arms were unavailing, the greatest service was +rendered by the friendship of the free cities, whose affections he had +gained, by the double ties of policy and religion; and, as long as he +should maintain his superiority in the field, he might reckon on every +thing from their zeal. By his conquests on the Rhine, the Spaniards +were cut off from the Lower Palatinate, even if the state of the war +in the Netherlands left them at liberty to interfere in the affairs of +Germany. The Duke of Lorraine, too, after his unfortunate campaign, +had been glad to adopt a neutrality. Even the numerous garrisons he +had left behind him, in his progress through Germany, had not +diminished his army; and, fresh and vigorous as when he first began +his march, he now stood in the centre of Bavaria, determined and +prepared to carry the war into the heart of Austria. + +While Gustavus Adolphus thus maintained his superiority within the +Empire, fortune, in another quarter, had been no less favorable to +his ally, the Elector of Saxony. By the arrangement concerted between +these princes at Halle, after the battle of Leipzig, the conquest of +Bohemia was intrusted to the Elector of Saxony, while the King +reserved for himself the attack upon the territories of the League. +The first fruits which the Elector reaped from the battle of +Breitenfeld was the reconquest of Leipzic, which was shortly followed +by the expulsion of the Austrian garrisons from the entire circle. +Reinforced by the troops who deserted to him from the hostile +garrisons, the Saxon General, Arnheim, marched toward Lusatia, which +had been overrun by an Imperial General, Rudolph von Tiefenbach, in +order to chastise the Elector for embracing the cause of the enemy. He +had already commenced in this weakly defended province the usual +course of devastation, taken several towns, and terrified Dresden +itself by his approach, when his destructive progress was suddenly +stopped by an express mandate from the Emperor to spare the +possessions of the King of Saxony. + +Ferdinand had perceived too late the errors of that policy which +reduced the Elector of Saxony to extremities and forcibly drove this +powerful monarch into an alliance with Sweden. By moderation, equally +ill-timed, he now wished to repair if possible the consequences of his +haughtiness; and thus committed a second error in endeavoring to +repair the first. To deprive his enemy of so powerful an ally, he had +opened, through the intervention of Spain, a negotiation with the +Elector; and in order to facilitate an accommodation, Tiefenbach was +ordered immediately to retire from Saxony. But these concessions of +the Emperor, far from producing the desired effect, only revealed to +the Elector the embarrassment of his adversary and his own importance, +and emboldened him the more to prosecute the advantages he had already +obtained. How could he, moreover, without becoming chargeable with the +most shameful ingratitude, abandon an ally to whom he had given the +most solemn assurances of fidelity, and to whom he was indebted for +the preservation of his dominions and even of his Electoral dignity? + +The Saxon army, now relieved from the necessity of marching into +Lusatia, advanced toward Bohemia, where a combination of favorable +circumstances seemed to insure them an easy victory. In his kingdom, +the first scene of this fatal war, the flames of dissension still +smoldered beneath the ashes, while the discontent of the inhabitants +was fomented by daily acts of oppression and tyranny. On every side, +this unfortunate country showed signs of a mournful change. Whole +districts had changed their proprietors, and groaned under the hated +yoke of Roman Catholic masters, whom the favor of the Emperor and the +Jesuits had enriched with the plunder and possessions of the exiled +Protestants. Others, taking advantage themselves of the general +distress, had purchased, at a low rate, the confiscated estates. The +blood of the most eminent champions of liberty had been shed upon the +scaffold; and such as by a timely flight avoided that fate, were +wandering in misery far from their native land, while the obsequious +slaves of despotism enjoyed their patrimony. Still more insupportable +than the oppression of these petty tyrants, was the restraint of +conscience which was imposed without distinction on all the +Protestants of that kingdom. No external danger, no opposition on the +part of the nation, however steadfast, not even the fearful lessons of +past experience, could check in the Jesuits the rage of proselytism; +where fair means were ineffectual, recourse was had to military force +to bring the deluded wanderers within the pale of the church. The +inhabitants of Joachimsthal, on the frontiers between Bohemia and +Meissen, were the chief sufferers from this violence. Two imperial +commissaries, accompanied by as many Jesuits and supported by fifteen +musketeers, made their appearance in this peaceful valley to preach +the gospel to the heretics. Where the rhetoric of the former was +ineffectual, the forcibly quartering the latter upon the houses, and +threats of banishment and fines were tried. But on this occasion, the +good cause prevailed, and the bold resistance of this small district +compelled the Emperor disgracefully to recall his mandate of +conversion. The example of the court had, however, afforded a +precedent to the Roman Catholics of the Empire, and seemed to justify +every act of oppression which their insolence tempted them to wreak +upon the Protestants. It is not surprising, then, if this persecuted +party was favorable to a revolution and saw with pleasure their +deliverers on the frontiers. + +The Saxon army was already on its march toward Prague; the imperial +garrisons everywhere retired before them. Schloeckenau, Tetschen, +Aussig, Leutmeritz, soon fell into the enemy's hands, and every Roman +Catholic place was abandoned to plunder. Consternation seized all the +Papists of the Empire; and conscious of the outrages which they +themselves had committed on the Protestants, they did not venture to +abide the vengeful arrival of a Protestant army. All the Roman +Catholics, who had anything to lose, fled hastily from the country to +the capital, which again they presently abandoned. Prague was +unprepared for an attack, and was too weakly garrisoned to sustain a +long siege. Too late had the Emperor resolved to despatch +Field-Marshal Tiefenbach to the defence of this capital. Before the +imperial orders could reach the head-quarters of that general, in +Silesia, the Saxons were already close to Prague, the Protestant +inhabitants of which showed little zeal, while the weakness of the +garrison left no room to hope a long resistance. In this fearful state +of embarrassment, the Roman Catholics of Prague looked for security to +Wallenstein, who now lived in that city as a private individual. But +far from lending his military experience, and the weight of his name, +toward its defence, he seized the favorable opportunity to satiate his +thirst for revenge. If he did not actually invite the Saxons to +Prague, at least his conduct facilitated its capture. Though +unprepared, the town might still hold out until succors could arrive; +and an imperial colonel, Count Maradas, showed serious intentions of +undertaking its defence. But without command and authority, and having +no support but his own zeal and courage, he did not dare to venture +upon such a step without the advice of a superior. He therefore +consulted the Duke of Friedland, whose approbation might supply the +want of authority from the Emperor and to whom the Bohemian generals +were referred by an express edict of the court in the last extremity. +He, however, artfully excused himself on the plea of holding no +official appointment and his long retirement from the political world; +while he weakened the resolution of the subalterns by the scruples +which he suggested and painted in the strongest colors. At last, to +render the consternation general and complete, he quitted the capital +with his whole court, however little he had to fear from its capture; +and the city was lost, because, by his departure, he showed that he +despaired of its safety. His example was followed by all the Roman +Catholic nobility, the generals with their troops, the clergy, and all +the officers of the crown. All night the people were employed in +saving their persons and effects. The roads to Vienna were crowded +with fugitives, who scarcely recovered from their consternation till +they reached the imperial city. Maradas himself, despairing of the +safety of Prague, followed the rest, and led his small detachment to +Tabor, where he awaited the event. + +[Illustration: WALLENSTEIN VAN DYCK] + +Profound silence reigned in Prague, when the Saxons next morning +appeared before it; no preparations were made for defence; not a +single shot from the walls announced an intention of resistance. On +the contrary, a crowd of spectators from the town, allured by +curiosity, came flocking round to behold the foreign army; and the +peaceful confidence with which they advanced, resembled a friendly +salutation more than a hostile reception. From the concurrent reports +of these people, the Swedes learned that the town had been deserted by +the troops, and that the government had fled to Budweiss. This +unexpected and inexplicable absence of resistance excited Arnheim's +distrust the more, as the speedy approach of the Silesian succors was +no secret to him, and as he knew that the Saxon army was too +indifferently provided with materials for undertaking a siege and by +far too weak in numbers to attempt to take the place by storm. +Apprehensive of stratagem, he redoubled his vigilance; and he +continued in this conviction until Wallenstein's house-steward, whom +he discovered among the crowd, confirmed to him this intelligence. +"The town is ours without a blow!" exclaimed he in astonishment to his +officers, and immediately summoned it by a trumpeter. + +The citizens of Prague, thus shamefully abandoned by their defenders, +had long taken their resolution; all that they had to do was to secure +their properties and liberties by an advantageous capitulation. No +sooner was the treaty signed by the Saxon general, in his master's +name, than the gates were opened, without further opposition; and upon +the 11th of November, 1631, the army made their triumphal entry. The +Elector soon after followed in person, to receive the homage of those +whom he had newly taken under his protection; for it was only in the +character of protector that the three towns of Prague had surrendered +to him. Their allegiance to the Austrian monarchy was not to be +dissolved by the step they had taken. In proportion as the Papists' +apprehensions of reprisals on the part of the Protestants had been +exaggerated, so was their surprise great at the moderation of the +Elector and the discipline of his troops. Field-Marshal Arnheim +plainly evinced, on this occasion, his respect for Wallenstein. Not +content with sparing his estates on his march, he now placed guards +over his palace, in Prague, to prevent the plunder of any of his +effects. The Roman Catholics of the town were allowed the fullest +liberty of conscience; and of all the churches they had wrested from +the Protestants, four only were now taken back from them. From this +general indulgence none was excluded but the Jesuits, who were +generally considered as the authors of all past grievances and thus +banished the kingdom. + +John George belied not the submission and dependence with which the +terror of the imperial name inspired him; nor did he indulge at Prague +in a course of conduct which would assuredly have been pursued against +himself at Dresden by imperial generals, such as Tilly or Wallenstein. +He carefully distinguished between the enemy with whom he was at war, +and the head of the Empire, to whom he owed obedience. He did not +venture to touch the household furniture of the latter, while, without +scruple, he appropriated and transported to Dresden the cannon of the +former. He did not take up his residence in the imperial palace, but +in the house of Lichtenstein, being too modest to use the apartments +of one whom he had deprived of a kingdom. Had this trait been related +of a great man, and a hero, it would irresistibly excite our +admiration; but the character of this prince leaves us in doubt +whether such moderation ought to be ascribed to a noble self-command +or to the littleness of a weak mind which even good fortune could not +embolden and liberty itself could not strip of its habituated fetters. + +The surrender of Prague, which was quickly followed by that of most of +the other towns, effected a great and sudden change in Bohemia. Many +of the Protestant nobility, who had hitherto been wandering about in +misery, now returned to their native country; and Count Thurn, the +famous author of the Bohemian insurrection, enjoyed the triumph of +returning as a conqueror to the scene of his crime and his +condemnation. Over the very bridge where the heads of his adherents, +exposed to view, held out a fearful picture of the fate which had +threatened himself, he now made his triumphal entry; and to remove +these ghastly objects was his first care. The exiles again took +possession of their properties, without thinking of recompensing for +the purchase money the present possessors, who had mostly taken to +flight. Even though they had received a price for their estates, they +seized on everything which had once been their own; and many had +reason to rejoice at the economy of the late possessors. The lands and +cattle had greatly improved in their hands; the apartments were now +decorated with the most costly furniture; the cellars, which had been +left empty, were richly filled; the stables supplied; the magazines +stored with provisions. But distrusting the constancy of that good +fortune, which had so unexpectedly smiled upon them, they hastened to +get rid of these insecure possessions, and to convert their immovable +into transferable property. + +The presence of the Saxons inspired all the Protestants of the +kingdom with courage; and, both in the country and the capital, crowds +flocked to the newly opened Protestant churches. Many, whom fear alone +had retained in their adherence to Popery, now openly professed the +new doctrine; and many of the late converts to Roman Catholicism +gladly renounced a compulsory persuasion, to follow the earlier +conviction of their conscience. All the moderation of the new regency +could not restrain the manifestation of that just displeasure which +this persecuted people felt against their oppressors. They made a +fearful and cruel use of their newly recovered rights; and, in many +parts of the kingdom, their hatred of the religion which they had been +compelled to profess, could be satiated only by the blood of its +adherents. + +Meantime the succors which the imperial generals, Goetz and +Tiefenbach, were conducting from Silesia, had entered Bohemia, where +they were joined by some of Tilly's regiments from the Upper +Palatinate. In order to disperse them before they should receive any +further reinforcement, Arnheim advanced with part of his army from +Prague, and made a vigorous attack on their intrenchments near +Limburg, on the Elbe. After a severe action, not without great loss, +he drove the enemy from their fortified camp and forced them, by his +heavy fire, to recross the Elbe and to destroy the bridge which they +had built over that river. Nevertheless, the Imperialists obtained the +advantage in several skirmishes, and the Croats pushed their +incursions to the very gates of Prague. Brilliant and promising as the +opening of the Bohemian campaign had been, the issue by no means +satisfied the expectations of Gustavus Adolphus. Instead of vigorously +following up their advantages, by forcing a passage to the Swedish +army through the conquered country, and then, with it, attacking the +imperial power in its centre, the Saxons weakened themselves in a war +of skirmishes, in which they were not always successful, while they +lost the time which should have been devoted to greater undertakings. +But the Elector's subsequent conduct betrayed the motives which had +prevented him from pushing his advantage over the Emperor, and by +consistent measures promoting the plans of the King of Sweden. + +The Emperor had now lost the greater part of Bohemia, and the Saxons +were advancing against Austria, while the Swedish monarch was rapidly +moving to the same point through Franconia, Swabia, and Bavaria. A +long war had exhausted the strength of the Austrian monarchy, wasted +the country, and diminished its armies. The renown of its victories +was no more, as well as the confidence inspired by constant success; +its troops had lost the obedience and discipline to which those of the +Swedish monarch owed all their superiority in the field. The +confederates of the Emperor were disarmed, or their fidelity shaken by +the danger which threatened themselves. Even Maximilian of Bavaria, +Austria's most powerful ally, seemed disposed to yield to the +seductive proposition of neutrality; while his suspicious alliance +with France had long been a subject of apprehension to the Emperor. +The bishop of Wuertzburg and Bamberg, the Elector of Mentz, and the +Duke of Lorraine, were either expelled from their territories or +threatened with immediate attack; Treves had placed itself under the +protection of France. The bravery of the Hollanders gave full +employment to the Spanish arms in the Netherlands; while Gustavus had +driven them from the Rhine. Poland was still fettered by the truce +which subsisted between that country and Sweden. The Hungarian +frontier was threatened by the Transylvania Prince, Ragotsky, a +successor of Bethlem Gabor and the inheritor of his restless mind; +while the Porte was making great preparation to profit by the +favorable conjuncture for aggression. Most of the Protestant states, +encouraged by their protector's success, were openly and actively +declaring against the Emperor. All the resources which had been +obtained by the violent and oppressive extortions of Tilly and +Wallenstein were exhausted; all these depots, magazines, and +rallying-points were now lost to the Emperor; and the war could no +longer be carried on as before at the cost of others. To complete his +embarrassment, a dangerous insurrection broke out in the territory of +the Ens, where the ill-timed religious zeal of the government had +provoked the Protestants to resistance; and thus fanaticism lit its +torch within the empire, while a foreign enemy was already on its +frontier. After so long a continuance of good fortune, such brilliant +victories and extensive conquests, such fruitless effusion of blood, +the Emperor saw himself a second time on the brink of that abyss into +which he was so near falling at the commencement of his reign. If +Bavaria should embrace the neutrality; if Saxony should resist the +tempting offers he had held out; and France resolve to attack the +Spanish power at the same time in the Netherlands, in Italy and in +Catalonia, the ruin of Austria would be complete; the allied powers +would divide its spoils, and the political system of Germany would +undergo a total change. + +The chain of these disasters began with the battle of Breitenfeld, the +unfortunate issue of which plainly revealed the long decided decline +of the Austrian power, whose weakness had hitherto been concealed +under the dazzling glitter of a grand name. The chief cause of the +Swedes' superiority in the field was evidently to be ascribed to the +unlimited power of their leader, who concentrated in himself the whole +strength of his party; and, unfettered in his enterprises by any +higher authority, was complete master of every favorable opportunity, +could control all his means to the accomplishment of his ends, and was +responsible to none but himself. But since Wallenstein's dismissal and +Tilly's defeat, the very reverse of this course was pursued by the +Emperor and the League. The generals wanted authority over their +troops, and liberty of acting at their discretion; the soldiers were +deficient in discipline and obedience; the scattered corps, in +combined operation; the states, in attachment to the cause; the +leaders lacked harmony among themselves, quickness to resolve, and +firmness to execute. What gave the Emperor's enemy so decided an +advantage over him was not so much their superior power, as their +manner of using it. The League and the Emperor did not want means, but +a mind capable of directing them with energy and effect. Even had +Count Tilly not lost his old renown, distrust of Bavaria would not +have allowed the Emperor to place the fate of Austria in the hands of +one who had never concealed his attachment to the Bavarian Elector. +The urgent want which Ferdinand felt was for a general possessed of +sufficient experience to form and to command an army and willing at +the same time to dedicate his services, with blind devotion, to the +Austrian monarchy. + +This choice now occupied the attention of the Emperor's privy council +and divided the opinions of its members. In order to oppose one +monarch to another, and by the presence of their sovereign to animate +the courage of the troops, Ferdinand, in the ardor of the moment, had +offered himself to be the leader of his army; but little trouble was +required to overturn a resolution which was the offspring of despair +alone, and which yielded at once to calm reflection. But the situation +which his dignity, and the duties of administration, prevented the +Emperor from holding, might be filled by his son, a youth of talents +and bravery, and of whom the subjects of Austria had already formed +great expectations. Called by his birth to the defence of a monarchy, +of whose crowns he wore two already, Ferdinand III., King of Hungary +and Bohemia, united, with the natural dignity of heir to the throne, +the respect of the army, and the attachment of the people, whose +cooeperation was indispensable to him in the conduct of the war. None +but the beloved heir to the crown could venture to impose new burdens +on a people already severely oppressed; his personal presence with the +army could alone suppress the pernicious jealousies of the several +leaders, and by the influence of his name restore the neglected +discipline of the troops to its former vigor. If so young a leader was +devoid of the maturity of judgment, prudence, and military experience +which practice alone could impart, this deficiency might be supplied +by a judicious choice of counsellors and assistants, who, under the +cover of his name, might be vested with supreme authority. + +But plausible as were the arguments with which a part of the ministry +supported this plan, it was met by difficulties not less serious, +arising from the distrust, perhaps even the jealousy, of the Emperor, +and also from the desperate state of affairs. How dangerous was it to +intrust the fate of the monarchy to a youth who was himself in need of +counsel and support! How hazardous to oppose to the greatest general +of his age, a tyro, whose fitness for so important a post had never +yet been tested by experience; whose name, as yet unknown to fame, was +far too powerless to inspire a dispirited army with the assurance of +future victory! What a new burden on the country to support the state +a royal leader was required to maintain, and which the prejudices of +the age considered as inseparable from his presence with the army! How +serious a consideration for the prince himself, to commence his +political career with an office which must make him the scourge of his +people and the oppressor of the territories which he was hereafter to +rule. + +But not only was a general to be found for the army; an army must also +be found for the general. Since the compulsory resignation of +Wallenstein, the Emperor had defended himself more by the assistance +of Bavaria and the League, than by his own armies; and it was this +dependence on equivocal allies, which he was endeavoring to escape, by +the appointment of a general of his own. But what possibility was +there of raising an army out of nothing, without the all-powerful aid +of gold and the inspiriting name of a victorious commander; above all, +an army which, by its discipline, warlike spirit, and activity, should +be fit to cope with the experienced troops of the northern conqueror? +In all Europe, there was but one man equal to this, and that one had +been mortally affronted. + +The moment had at last arrived when more than ordinary satisfaction +was to be done to the wounded pride of the Duke of Friedland. Fate +itself had been his avenger, and an unbroken chain of disasters, which +had assailed Austria from the day of his dismissal, had wrung from the +Emperor the humiliating confession that with this general he had lost +his right arm. Every defeat of his troops opened afresh this wound; +every town which he lost revived in the mind of the deceived monarch +the memory of his own weakness and ingratitude. It would have been +well for him, if, in the offended general, he had only lost a leader +of his troops, and a defender of his dominions; but he was destined to +find in him an enemy, and the most dangerous of all, since he was +least armed against the stroke of treason. Removed from the theatre of +war and condemned to irksome inaction, while his rivals gathered +laurels on the field of glory, the haughty duke had beheld these +changes of fortune with affected composure, and concealed, under a +glittering and theatrical pomp, the dark designs of his restless +genius. Torn by burning passions within, while all without bespoke +calmness and indifference, he brooded over projects of ambition and +revenge, and slowly, but surely, advanced toward his end. All that he +owed to the Emperor was effaced from his mind; what he himself had +done for the Emperor was imprinted in burning characters on his +memory. To his insatiable thirst for power, the Emperor's ingratitude +was welcome, as it seemed to tear in pieces the record of past favors, +to absolve him from every obligation toward his former benefactor. In +the disguise of a righteous retaliation, the projects dictated by his +ambition now appeared to him just and pure. In proportion as the +external circle of his operations was narrowed, the world of hope +expanded before him, and his dreamy imagination revelled in boundless +projects, which, in any mind but such as his, madness alone could +have given birth to. His services had raised him to the proudest +height which it was possible for a man, by his own efforts, to attain. +Fortune had denied him nothing which the subject and the citizen could +lawfully enjoy. Till the moment of his dismissal, his demands had met +with no refusal, his ambition had met with no check; but the blow +which, at the diet of Ratisbon, humbled him, showed him the difference +between _original_ and _deputed_ power, the distance between the +subject and his sovereign. Roused from the intoxication of his own +greatness by this sudden reverse of fortune, he compared the authority +which he had possessed with that which had deprived him of it; and his +ambition marked the steps which it had yet to surmount upon the ladder +of fortune. From the moment when he had so bitterly experienced the +weight of sovereign power, his efforts were directed to attain it for +himself; the wrong which he himself had suffered made him a robber. +Had he not been outraged by injustice, he might have obediently moved +in his orbit round the majesty of the throne, satisfied with the glory +of being the brightest of its satellites. It was only when violently +forced from its sphere, that his wandering star threw in disorder the +system to which it belonged, and came in destructive collision with +its sun. + +Gustavus Adolphus had overrun the north of Germany; one place after +another was lost; and at Leipzic the flower of the Austrian army had +fallen. The intelligence of this defeat soon reached the ears of +Wallenstein, who, in the retired obscurity of a private station in +Prague, contemplated from a calm distance the tumult of war. The news, +which filled the breasts of the Roman Catholics with dismay, announced +to him the return of greatness and good fortune. For him was Gustavus +Adolphus laboring. Scarcely had the king begun to gain reputation by +his exploits, when Wallenstein lost not a moment to court his +friendship and to make common cause with this successful enemy of +Austria. The banished Count Thurn, who had long entered the service +of Sweden, undertook to convey Wallenstein's congratulations to the +king, and to invite him to a close alliance with the duke. Wallenstein +required 15,000 men from the king; and with these, and the troops he +himself engaged to raise, he undertook to conquer Bohemia and Moravia, +to surprise Vienna, and drive his master, the Emperor, before him into +Italy. Welcome as was this unexpected proposition, its extravagant +promises were naturally calculated to excite suspicion. Gustavus +Adolphus was too good a judge of merit to reject with coldness the +offers of one who might be so important a friend. But when +Wallenstein, encouraged by the favorable reception of his first +message, renewed it after the battle of Breitenfeld, and pressed for a +decisive answer, the prudent monarch hesitated to trust his reputation +to the chimerical projects of so daring an adventurer and to commit so +large a force to the honesty of a man who felt no shame in openly +avowing himself a traitor. He excused himself, therefore, on the plea +of the weakness of his army which, if diminished by so large a +detachment, would certainly suffer in its march through the empire; +and thus, perhaps, by excess of caution, lost an opportunity of +putting an immediate end to the war. He afterward endeavored to renew +the negotiation; but the favorable moment was past, and Wallenstein's +offended pride never forgave the first neglect. + +But the king's hesitation, perhaps, only accelerated the breach, which +their characters made inevitable sooner or later. Both framed by +nature to give laws, not to receive them, they could not long have +cooeperated in an enterprise which eminently demanded mutual submission +and sacrifice. Wallenstein was _nothing_ where he was not +_everything_; he must either act with unlimited power, or not at +all. So cordially, too, did Gustavus dislike control that he had +almost renounced his advantageous alliance with France, because it +threatened to fetter his own independent judgment. Wallenstein was +lost to a party, if he could not lead; the latter was, if possible, +still less disposed to obey the instructions of another. If the +pretensions of a rival would be so irksome to the Duke of Friedland, +in the conduct of combined operations, in the division of the spoil +they would be insupportable. The proud monarch might condescend to +accept the assistance of a rebellious subject against the Emperor, and +to reward his valuable services with regal munificence; but he never +could so far lose sight of his own dignity, and the majesty of +royalty, as to bestow the recompense which the extravagant ambition of +Wallenstein demanded, and requite an act of treason, however useful, +with a crown. In him, therefore, even if all Europe should tacitly +acquiesce, Wallenstein had reason to expect the most decided and +formidable opponent to his views on the Bohemian crown; and in all +Europe he was the only one who could enforce his opposition. +Constituted Dictator in Germany by Wallenstein himself, he might turn +his arms against him, and consider himself bound by no obligations to +one who was himself a traitor. There was no room for a Wallenstein +under such an ally; and it was, apparently, this conviction, and not +any supposed designs upon the imperial throne, that he alluded to, +when, after the death of the King of Sweden, he exclaimed, "It is well +for him and me that he is gone! The German Empire does not require two +such leaders." + +His first scheme of revenge on the house of Austria had indeed failed; +but the purpose itself remained unalterable; the choice of means alone +was changed. What he had failed in effecting with the King of Sweden, +he hoped to obtain with less difficulty and more advantage from the +Elector of Saxony. Him he was as certain of being able to bend to his +views as he had always been doubtful of Gustavus Adolphus. Having +always maintained a good understanding with his old friend Arnheim, he +now made use of him to bring about an alliance with Saxony, by which +he hoped to render himself equally formidable to the Emperor and the +King of Sweden. He had reason to expect that a scheme, which, if +successful, would deprive the Swedish monarch of his influence in +Germany, would be welcomed by the Elector of Saxony, who he knew was +jealous of the power and offended at the lofty pretensions of Gustavus +Adolphus. If he succeeded in separating Saxony from the Swedish +alliance and in establishing, conjointly with that power, a third +party in the Empire, the fate of the war would be placed in his hand; +and by this single step he would succeed in gratifying his revenge +against the Emperor, revenging the neglect of the Swedish monarch, and +on the ruin of both raising the edifice of his own greatness. + +But whatever course he might follow in the prosecution of his designs, +he could not carry them into effect without an army entirely devoted +to him. Such a force could not be secretly raised without its coming +to the knowledge of the imperial court, where it would naturally +excite suspicion and thus frustrate his design in the very outset. +From the army, too, the rebellious purposes for which it was destined +must be concealed till the very moment of execution, since it could +scarcely be expected that they would at once be prepared to listen to +the voice of a traitor and serve against their legitimate sovereign. +Wallenstein, therefore, must raise it publicly and in the name of the +Emperor, and be placed at its head, with unlimited authority, by the +Emperor himself. But how could this be accomplished otherwise than by +his being appointed to the command of the army and intrusted with full +powers to conduct the war? Yet neither his pride nor his interest +permitted him to sue in person for this post and as a suppliant to +accept from the favor of the Emperor a limited power, when an +unlimited authority might be extorted from his fears. In order to make +himself the master of the terms on which he would resume the command +of the army, his course was to wait until the post should be forced +upon him. This was the advice he received from Arnheim, and this the +end for which he labored with profound policy and restless activity. + +Convinced that extreme necessity would alone conquer the Emperor's +irresolution and render powerless the opposition of his bitter +enemies, Bavaria and Spain, he henceforth occupied himself in +promoting the success of the enemy and in increasing the +embarrassments of his master. It was apparently by his instigation and +advice that the Saxons, when on the route to Lusatia and Silesia, had +turned their march toward Bohemia and overrun that defenceless +kingdom, where their rapid conquests were partly the result of his +measures. By the fears which he affected to entertain he paralyzed +every effort at resistance; and his precipitate retreat caused the +delivery of the capital to the enemy. At a conference with the Saxon +general, which was held at Kaunitz under the pretext of negotiating +for a peace, the seal was put to the conspiracy, and the conquest of +Bohemia was the first fruits of this mutual understanding. While +Wallenstein was thus personally endeavoring to heighten the +perplexities of Austria, and while the rapid movements of the Swedes +upon the Rhine effectually promoted his designs, his friends and +bribed adherents in Vienna uttered loud complaints of the public +calamities and represented the dismissal of the general as the sole +cause of all these misfortunes. "Had Wallenstein commanded, matters +would never have come to this," exclaimed a thousand voices; while +their opinions found supporters, even in the Emperor's privy council. + +Their repeated remonstrances were not needed to convince the +embarrassed Emperor of his general's merits and of his own error. His +dependence on Bavaria and the League had soon become insupportable; +but hitherto this dependence permitted him not to show his distrust, +or irritate the Elector by the recall of Wallenstein. But now when his +necessities grew every day more pressing, and the weakness of Bavaria +more apparent, he could no longer hesitate to listen to friends of the +duke, and to consider their overtures for his restoration to command. +The immense riches Wallenstein possessed, the universal reputation he +enjoyed, the rapidity with which six years before he had assembled an +army of 40,000 men, the little expense at which he had maintained this +formidable force, the actions he had performed at its head, and +lastly, the zeal and fidelity he had displayed for his master's honor, +still lived in the Emperor's recollection and made Wallenstein seem to +him the ablest instrument to restore the balance between the +belligerent powers, to save Austria, and preserve the Catholic +religion. However sensibly the imperial pride might feel the +humiliation, in being forced to make so unequivocal an admission of +past errors and present necessity; however painful it was to descend +to humble entreaties, from the height of imperial command; however +doubtful the fidelity of so deeply injured and implacable a character; +however loudly and urgently the Spanish minister and the Elector of +Bavaria protested against this step, the immediate pressure of +necessity finally overcame every other consideration, and the friends +of the duke were empowered to consult him on the subject and to hold +out the prospect of his restoration. + +Informed of all that was transacted in the Emperor's cabinet to his +advantage, Wallenstein possessed sufficient self-command to conceal +his inward triumph and to assume the mask of indifference. The moment +of vengeance was at last come, and his proud heart exulted in the +prospect of repaying with interest the injuries of the Emperor. With +artful eloquence, he expatiated upon the happy tranquillity of a +private station, which had blessed him since his retirement from a +political stage. Too long, he said, had he tasted the pleasures of +ease and independence, to sacrifice to the vain phantom of glory the +uncertain favor of princes. All his desire of power and distinction +were extinct: tranquillity and repose were now the sole object of his +wishes. The better to conceal his real impatience, he declined the +Emperor's invitation to the court, but at the same time, to facilitate +the negotiations, came to Znaim in Moravia. + +At first, it was proposed to limit the authority to be intrusted to +him, by the presence of a superior, in order, by this expedient, to +silence the objections of the Elector of Bavaria. The imperial +deputies, Questenberg and Werdenberg, who, as old friends of the duke, +had been employed in this delicate mission, were instructed to propose +that the King of Hungary should remain with the army and learn the art +of war under Wallenstein. But the very mention of his name threatened +to put a period to the whole negotiation. "No! never," exclaimed +Wallenstein, "will I submit to a colleague in my office. No--not even +if it were God himself with whom I should have to share my command." +But even when this obnoxious point was given up, Prince Eggenberg, the +Emperor's minister and favorite, who had always been the steady friend +and zealous champion of Wallenstein and was therefore expressly sent +to him, exhausted his eloquence in vain to overcome the pretended +reluctance of the duke. "The Emperor," he admitted, "had, in +Wallenstein, thrown away the most costly jewel in his crown: but +unwillingly and compulsorily only had he taken this step, which he had +since deeply repented of; while his esteem for the duke had remained +unaltered, his favor for him undiminished. Of these sentiments he now +gave the most decisive proof, by reposing unlimited confidence in his +fidelity and capacity to repair the mistakes of his predecessors and +to change the whole aspect of affairs. It would be great and noble to +sacrifice his just indignation to the good of his country; dignified +and worthy of him to refute the evil calumny of his enemies by the +double warmth of his zeal. This victory over himself," concluded the +prince, "would crown his other unparalleled services to the Empire and +render him the greatest man of his age." + +These humiliating confessions and flattering assurances seemed at last +to disarm the anger of the duke; but not before he had disburdened his +heart of his reproaches against the Emperor, pompously dwelt upon his +own services, and humbled to the utmost the monarch who solicited his +assistance, did he condescend to listen to the attractive proposals of +the minister. As if he yielded entirely to the force of their +arguments, he condescended with a haughty reluctance to that which was +the most ardent wish of his heart and deigned to favor the ambassadors +with a ray of hope. But far from putting an end to the Emperor's +embarrassments, by giving at once a full and unconditional consent, he +only acceded to a part of his demands, that he might exalt the value +of that which still remained, and was of most importance. He accepted +the command, but only for three months; merely for the purpose of +raising, but not of leading, an army. He wished only to show his power +and ability in its organization, and to display before the eyes of the +Emperor the greatness of that assistance which he still retained in +his hands. Convinced that an army raised by his name alone would, if +deprived of its creator, soon sink again into nothing, he intended it +to serve only as a decoy to draw more important concessions from his +master. And yet Ferdinand congratulated himself, even in having gained +so much as he had. + +Wallenstein did not long delay to fulfil those promises which all +Germany regarded as chimerical, and which Gustavus Adolphus had +considered as extravagant. But the foundation for the present +enterprise had long been laid, and he only put in motion the machinery +which for many years had been prepared for the purpose. Scarcely had +the news spread of Wallenstein's levies, when, from every quarter of +the Austrian monarchy, crowds of soldiers repaired to try their +fortunes under this experienced general. Many, who had before fought +under his standards, had been admiring eye-witnesses of his great +actions and experienced his magnanimity, came forward from their +retirement to share with him a second time both booty and glory. The +greatness of the pay he promised attracted thousands, and the +plentiful supplies the soldier was likely to enjoy at the cost of the +peasant was to the latter an irresistible inducement to embrace the +military life at once, rather than be the victim of its oppression. +All the Austrian provinces were compelled to assist in the equipment. +No class was exempt from taxation--no dignity or privilege from +capitation. The Spanish court, as well as the King of Hungary, agreed +to contribute a considerable sum. The ministers made large presents, +while Wallenstein himself advanced $200,000 from his personal income +to hasten the armament. The poorer officers he supported out of his +own revenues; and, by his own example, by brilliant promotions and +still more brilliant promises, he induced all, who were able, to raise +troops at their own expense. Whoever raised a corps at his own cost +was to be its commander. In the appointment of officers, religion made +no difference. Riches, bravery, and experience were more regarded than +creed. By this uniform treatment of different religious sects, and +still more by his express declaration that his present levy had +nothing to do with religion, the Protestant subjects of the Empire +were tranquilized and reconciled to bear their share of the public +burdens. The duke, at the same time, did not omit to treat, in his own +name, with foreign states for men and money. He prevailed on the Duke +of Lorraine, a second time, to espouse the cause of the Emperor. +Poland was urged to supply him with Cossacks, and Italy with warlike +necessaries. Before the three months were expired, the army which was +assembled in Moravia, amounted to no less than 40,000 men, chiefly +drawn from the unconquered parts of Bohemia, from Moravia, Silesia, +and the German provinces of the House of Austria. What to every one +had appeared impracticable, Wallenstein, to the astonishment of all +Europe, had in a short time effected. The charm of his name, his +treasures, and his genius, had assembled thousands in arms, where +before Austria had only looked for hundreds. Furnished, even to +superfluity, with all necessaries, commanded by experienced officers, +and inflamed by enthusiasm which assured itself of victory, this newly +created army only awaited the signal of their leader to show +themselves, by the bravery of their deeds, worthy of his choice. The +duke had fulfilled his promise, and the troops were ready to take the +field; he then retired and left to the Emperor to choose a commander. +But it would have been as easy to raise a second army like the first +as to find any other commander for it than Wallenstein. This promising +army, the last hope of the Emperor, was nothing but an illusion, as +soon as the charm was dissolved which had called it into existence; by +Wallenstein it had been raised, and, without him, it sank like a +creation of magic into its original nothingness. Its officers were +either bound to him as his debtors, or, as his creditors, closely +connected with his interests and the preservation of his power. The +regiments he had intrusted to his own relations, creatures, and +favorites. He, and he alone, could discharge to the troops the +extravagant promises by which they had been lured into his service. +His pledged word was the only security on which their bold +expectations rested; a blind reliance on his omnipotence, the only tie +which linked together in one common life and soul the various impulses +of their zeal. There was an end of the good fortune of each +individual, if he retired who alone was the voucher of its fulfilment. + +However little Wallenstein was serious in his refusal, he successfully +employed this means to terrify the Emperor into consenting to his +extravagant conditions. The progress of the enemy every day increased +the pressure of the Emperor's difficulties, while the remedy was also +close at hand; a word from him might terminate the general +embarrassment. Prince Eggenberg at length received orders, for the +third and last time, at any cost and sacrifice, to induce his friend, +Wallenstein, to accept the command. + +He found him at Znaim in Moravia, pompously surrounded by the troops, +the possession of which he made the Emperor so earnestly to long for. +As a suppliant did the haughty subject receive the deputy of his +sovereign. "He never could trust," he said, "to a restoration to +command, which he owned to the Emperor's necessities and not to his +sense of justice. He was now courted, because the danger had reached +its height and safety was hoped for from his arm only; but his +successful services would soon cause the servant to be forgotten, and +the return of security would bring back renewed ingratitude. If he +deceived the expectations formed of him, his long earned renown would +be forfeited; even if he fulfilled them, his repose and happiness must +be sacrificed. Soon would envy be excited anew, and the dependent +monarch would not hesitate, a second time, to make an offering of +convenience to a servant whom he could now dispense with. Better for +him at once, and voluntarily, to resign a post from which sooner or +later the intrigues of his enemies would expel him. Security and +content were to be found in the bosom of private life; and nothing but +the wish to oblige the Emperor had induced him, reluctantly enough, to +relinquish for a time his blissful repose." + +Tired of this long farce, the minister at last assumed a serious tone +and threatened the obstinate duke with the Emperor's resentment if he +persisted in his refusal. "Low enough had the imperial dignity," he +added, "stooped already; and yet, instead of exciting his magnanimity +by its condescension, it had only flattered his pride and increased +his obstinacy. If this sacrifice had been made in vain, he would not +answer, but only that the suppliant might be converted into the +sovereign and the monarch might not avenge his injured dignity on his +rebellious subject. However greatly Ferdinand may have erred, the +Emperor at least had a claim to obedience; the man might be mistaken, +but the monarch could not confess his error. If the Duke of Friedland +had suffered by an unjust decree, he might yet be recompensed for all +his losses; the wound which it had itself inflicted, the hand of +Majesty might heal. If he asked security for his person and his +dignities, the Emperor's equity would refuse him no reasonable demand. +Majesty contemned, admitted not of any atonement; disobedience to its +commands cancelled the most brilliant services. The Emperor required +his services, and as Emperor he demanded them. Whatever price +Wallenstein might set upon them, the Emperor would readily agree to; +but he demanded obedience, or the weight of his indignation should +crush the refractory servant." + +Wallenstein, whose extensive possessions within the Austrian monarchy +were momentarily exposed to the power of the Emperor, was keenly +sensible that this was no idle threat; yet it was not fear that at +last overcame his affected reluctance. This imperious tone was of +itself, to his mind, a plain proof of the weakness and despair which +dictated it, while the Emperor's readiness to yield all his demands +convinced him that he had attained the summit of his wishes. He now +made a show of yielding to the persuasions of Eggenberg; and left him, +in order to write down the conditions on which he accepted the +command. + +Not without apprehension, did the minister receive the writing in +which the proudest of subjects had prescribed laws to the proudest of +sovereigns. But however little confidence he had in the moderation of +his friend, the extravagant contents of his writing surpassed even his +worst expectations. Wallenstein required the uncontrolled command over +all the German armies of Austria and Spain, with unlimited powers to +reward and punish. Neither the King of Hungary, nor the Emperor +himself, were to appear in the army, still less to exercise any act of +authority over it. No commission in the army, no pension or letter of +grace, was to be granted by the Emperor without Wallenstein's +approval. All the conquests and confiscations that should take place +were to be placed entirely at Wallenstein's disposal, to the exclusion +of every other tribunal. For his ordinary pay, an imperial hereditary +estate was to be assigned him, with another of the conquered estates +within the Empire for his extraordinary expenses. Every Austrian +province was to be opened to him if he required it in case of +retreat. He further demanded the assurance of the possession of the +Duchy of Mecklenburg, in the event of a future peace; and a formal and +timely intimation, if it should be deemed necessary a second time to +deprive him of the command. + +In vain the minister entreated him to moderate his demands, which, if +granted, would deprive the Emperor of all authority over his own +troops and make him absolutely dependent on his general. The value +placed on his services had been too plainly manifested to prevent him +dictating the price at which they were to be purchased. If the +pressure of circumstances compelled the Emperor to grant these +demands, it was more than a mere feeling of haughtiness and desire of +revenge which induced the duke to make them. His plans of rebellion +were formed, to their success; every one of the conditions for which +Wallenstein stipulated in this treaty with the court was +indispensable. Those plans required that the Emperor should be +deprived of all authority in Germany and be placed at the mercy of his +general; and this object would be attained the moment Ferdinand +subscribed to the required conditions. The use which Wallenstein +intended to make of his army (widely different indeed from that for +which it was intrusted to him) brooked not of a divided power and +still less of an authority superior to his own. To be the sole master +of the will of his troops, he must also be the sole master of their +destinies; insensibly to supplant his sovereign and to transfer +permanently to his own person the rights of sovereignty, which were +only lent to him for a time by a higher authority, he must cautiously +keep the latter out of the view of the army. Hence his obstinate +refusal to allow any prince of the house of Austria to be present with +the army. The liberty of free disposal of all the conquered and +confiscated estates in the Empire would also afford him fearful means +of purchasing dependents and instruments of his plans, and of acting +the dictator in Germany more absolutely than ever any Emperor did in +time of peace. By the right to use any of the Austrian provinces as a +place of refuge, in case of need, he had full power to hold the +Emperor a prisoner by means of his own forces and within his own +dominions, to exhaust the strength and resources of these countries, +and to undermine the power of Austria in its very foundation. + +Whatever might be the issue, he had equally secured his own advantage +by the conditions he had extorted from the Emperor. If circumstances +proved favorable to his daring project, this treaty with the Emperor +facilitated its execution; if, on the contrary, the course of things +ran counter to it, it would at least afford him a brilliant +compensation for the failure of his plans. But how could he consider +an agreement valid which was extorted from his sovereign and based +upon treason? How could he hope to bind the Emperor by a written +agreement, in the face of a law which condemned to death every one who +should have the presumption to impose conditions upon him? But this +criminal was the most indispensable man in the Empire, and Ferdinand, +well practised in dissimulation, granted him for the present all he +required. + +At last, then, the imperial army had found a commander-in-chief worthy +of the name. Every other authority in the army, even that of the +Emperor himself, ceased from the moment Wallenstein assumed the +commander's baton, and every act was invalid which did not proceed +from him. From the banks of the Danube, to those of the Weser and the +Oder, was felt the life-giving dawning of this new star; a new spirit +seemed to inspire the troops of the Emperor, a new epoch of the war +began. The Papists form fresh hopes, the Protestant beholds with +anxiety the changed course of affairs. + +The greater the price at which the services of the new general had +been purchased, the greater justly were the expectations from those +which the court of the Emperor entertained. But the duke was in no +hurry to fulfil these expectations. Already in the vicinity of +Bohemia and at the head of a formidable force, he had but to show +himself there in order to overpower the exhausted forces of the Saxons +and brilliantly to commence his new career by the reconquest of that +kingdom. But, contented with harassing the enemy with indecisive +skirmishes of his Croats, he abandoned the best part of that kingdom +to be plundered, and moved calmly forward in pursuit of his own +selfish plans. His design was, not to conquer the Saxons, but to unite +with them. Exclusively occupied with this important object, he +remained inactive in the hope of conquering more surely by means of +negotiation. He left no expedient untried, to detach this prince from +the Swedish alliance; and Ferdinand himself, ever inclined to an +accommodation with this prince, approved of this proceeding. But the +great debt which Saxony owed to Sweden was as yet too freshly +remembered to allow of such an act of perfidy; and even had the +Elector been disposed to yield to the temptation, the equivocal +character of Wallenstein and the bad character of Austrian policy +precluded any reliance in the integrity of its promises. Notorious +already as a treacherous statesman, he acted faithlessly upon the very +occasion when perhaps he intended to act honestly; and, moreover, was +denied, by circumstances, the opportunity of proving the sincerity of +his intentions, by the disclosure of his real motives. + +He, therefore, unwillingly resolved to extort, by force of arms, what +he could not obtain by negotiation. Suddenly assembling his troops, he +appeared before Prague ere the Saxons had time to advance to its +relief. After a short resistance, the treachery of some Capuchins +opened the gates to one of his regiments; and the garrison, who had +taken refuge in the citadel, soon laid down their arms upon +disgraceful conditions. Master of the capital, he hoped to carry on +more successfully his negotiations at the Saxon court; but even while +he was renewing his proposals to Arnheim, he did not hesitate to give +them weight by striking a decisive blow. He hastened to seize the +narrow passes between Aussig and Pirna, with a view of cutting off +the retreat of the Saxons into their own country; but the rapidity of +Arnheim's operations fortunately extricated them from the danger. +After the retreat of this general, Egra and Leutmeritz, the last +strongholds of the Saxons, surrendered to the conqueror: and the whole +kingdom was restored to its legitimate sovereign, in less time than it +had been lost. + +Wallenstein, less occupied with the interests of his master than with +the furtherance of his own plans, now purposed to carry the war into +Saxony, and by ravaging his territories, compel the Elector to enter +into a private treaty with the Emperor, or rather with himself. But +however little accustomed he was to make his will bend to +circumstances, he now perceived the necessity of postponing his +favorite scheme, for a time, to a more pressing emergency. While he +was driving the Saxons from Bohemia, Gustavus Adolphus had been +gaining the victories, already detailed, on the Rhine and the Danube, +and carried the war through Franconia and Swabia to the frontiers of +Bavaria. Maximilian, defeated on the Lech and deprived by death of +Count Tilly, his best support, urgently solicited the Emperor to send +with all speed the Duke of Friedland to his assistance from Bohemia, +and, by the defence of Bavaria, to avert the danger from Austria +itself. He also made the same request to Wallenstein, and entreated +him, till he could himself come with the main force, to dispatch in +the meantime a few regiments to his aid. Ferdinand seconded the +request with all his influence, and one messenger after another was +sent to Wallenstein, urging him to move toward the Danube. + +It now appeared how completely the Emperor had sacrificed his +authority in surrendering to another the supreme command of his +troops. Indifferent to Maximilian's entreaties, and deaf to the +Emperor's repeated commands, Wallenstein remained inactive in Bohemia +and abandoned the Elector to his fate. The remembrance of the evil +service which Maximilian had rendered him with the Emperor, at the +Diet at Ratisbon, was deeply engraved on the implacable mind of the +duke, and the Elector's late attempts to prevent his reinstatement +were no secret to him. The moment of revenging this affront had now +arrived, and Maximilian was doomed to pay dearly for his folly in +provoking the most revengeful of men. Wallenstein maintained that +Bohemia ought not to be left exposed, and that Austria could not be +better protected than by allowing the Swedish army to waste its +strength before the Bavarian fortress. Thus, by the arm of the Swedes, +he chastised his enemy; and, while one place after another fell into +their hands, he allowed the Elector vainly to await his arrival in +Ratisbon. It was only when the complete subjugation of Bohemia left +him without excuse and the conquests of Gustavus Adolphus in Bavaria +threatened Austria itself, that he yielded to the pressing entreaties +of the Elector and the Emperor and determined to effect the +long-expected union with the former; an event, which, according to the +general anticipation of the Roman Catholics, would decide the fate of +the campaign. + +Gustavus Adolphus, too weak in numbers to cope even with Wallenstein's +force alone, naturally dreaded the junction of such powerful armies, +and the little energy he used to prevent it was the occasion of great +surprise. Apparently he reckoned too much on the hatred which +alienated the leaders and seemed to render their effectual cooeperation +improbable; when the event contradicted his views, it was too late to +repair his error. On the first certain intelligence he received of +their designs, he hastened to the Upper Palatinate for the purpose of +intercepting the Elector: but the latter had already arrived there and +the junction had been effected at Egra. + +This frontier town had been chosen by Wallenstein for the scene of his +triumph over his proud rival. Not content with having seen him, as it +were, a suppliant at his feet, he imposed upon him the hard condition +of leaving his territories in his rear exposed to the enemy, and +declaring by this long march to meet him the necessity and distress +to which he was reduced. Even to this humiliation the haughty prince +patiently submitted. It had cost him a severe struggle to ask for +protection of the man who, if his own wishes had been consulted, would +never have had the power of granting it: but having once made up his +mind to it, he was ready to bear all the annoyances which were +inseparable from that resolve and sufficiently master of himself to +put up with petty grievances when an important end was in view. + +But whatever pains it had cost to effect this junction, it was equally +difficult to settle the conditions on which it was to be maintained. +The united army must be placed under the command of one individual, if +any object was to be gained by the union, and each general was equally +averse to yield to the superior authority of the other. If Maximilian +rested his claim on his electoral dignity, the nobleness of his +descent, and his influence in the empire, Wallenstein's military +renown, and the unlimited command conferred on him by the Emperor, +gave an equally strong title to it. If it was deeply humiliating to +the pride of the former to serve under an imperial subject, the idea +of imposing laws on so imperious a spirit flattered in the same degree +the haughtiness of Wallenstein. An obstinate dispute ensued, which, +however, terminated in a mutual compromise to Wallenstein's advantage. +To him was assigned the unlimited command of both armies, particularly +in battle, while the Elector was deprived of all power of altering the +order of battle, or even the route of the army. He retained only the +bare right of punishing and rewarding his own troops and the free use +of these when not acting in conjunction with the Imperialists. + +After these preliminaries were settled, the two generals at last +ventured upon an interview; but not until they had mutually promised +to bury the past in oblivion, and all the outward formalities of a +reconciliation had been settled. According to agreement, they +publicly embraced in the sight of their troops, and made mutual +professions of friendship, while in reality the hearts of both were +overflowing with malice. Maximilian, well versed in dissimulation, had +sufficient command over himself not to betray in a single feature his +real feelings; but a malicious triumph sparkled in the eyes of +Wallenstein, and the constraint which was visible in all his movements +betrayed the violence of the emotion which overpowered his proud soul. + +The combined Imperial and Bavarian armies amounted to nearly 60,000 +men, chiefly veterans. Before this force the King of Sweden was not in +a condition to keep the field. As his attempt to prevent their +junction had failed, he commenced a rapid retreat into Franconia and +waited there for some decisive movement on the part of the enemy, in +order to form his own plans. The position of the combined armies +between the frontiers of Saxony and Bavaria left it for some time +doubtful whether they would remove the war into the former, or +endeavor to drive the Swedes from the Danube and deliver Bavaria. +Saxony had been stripped of troops by Arnheim, who was pursuing his +conquests in Silesia; not without a secret design, it was generally +supposed, of favoring the entrance of the Duke of Friedland into that +electorate and of thus driving the irresolute John George into peace +with the Emperor. Gustavus Adolphus himself, fully persuaded that +Wallenstein's views were directed against Saxony, hastily dispatched a +strong reinforcement to the assistance of his confederate, with the +intention, as soon as circumstances would allow, of following with the +main body. But the movements of Wallenstein's army soon led him to +suspect that he himself was the object of attack; and the Duke's march +through the Upper Palatinate placed the matter beyond a doubt. The +question now was, how to provide for his own security, and the prize +was no longer his supremacy but his very existence. His fertile genius +must now supply the means, not of conquest, but of preservation. The +approach of the enemy had surprised him before he had time to +concentrate his troops, which were scattered all over Germany, or to +summon his allies to his aid. Too weak to meet the enemy in the field, +he had no choice left but either to throw himself into Nuremberg and +run the risk of being shut up in its walls, or to sacrifice that city +and await a reinforcement under the cannon of Donauwerth. Indifferent +to danger or difficulty, while he obeyed the call of humanity or +honor, he chose the first without hesitation, firmly resolved to bury +himself with his whole army under the ruins of Nuremberg rather than +to purchase his own safety by the sacrifice of his confederates. + +Measures were immediately taken to surround the city and suburbs with +redoubts and to form an intrenched camp. Several thousand workmen +immediately commenced this extensive work, and an heroic determination +to hazard life and property in the common cause animated the +inhabitants of Nuremberg. A trench, eight feet deep and twelve broad, +surrounded the whole fortification; the lines were defended by +redoubts and batteries, the gates by half moons. The river Pegnitz, +which flows through Nuremberg, divided the whole camp into two +semicircles whose communication was secured by several bridges. About +three hundred pieces of cannon defended the town-walls and the +intrenchments. The peasantry from the neighboring villages, and the +inhabitants of Nuremberg, assisted the Swedish soldiers so zealously +that on the seventh day the army was able to enter the camp, and, in a +fortnight, this great work was completed. + +While these operations were carried on without the walls, the +magistrates of Nuremberg were busily occupied in filling the magazines +with provisions and ammunition for a long siege. Measures were taken, +at the same time, to secure the health of the inhabitants, which was +likely to be endangered by the conflux of so many people; cleanliness +was enforced by the strictest regulations. In order, if necessary, to +support the King, the youth of the city were enlisted and trained to +arms, the militia of the town considerably reinforced, and a new +regiment raised, consisting of four-and-twenty names, according to the +letters of the alphabet. Gustavus had, in the meantime, called to his +assistance his allies, Duke William of Weimar, and the Landgrave of +Hesse Cassel; and ordered his generals on the Rhine, in Thuringia and +Lower Saxony, to commence their march immediately and join him with +their troops in Nuremberg. His army, which was encamped within the +lines, did not amount to more than 16,000 men, scarcely a third of the +enemy. + +The Imperialists had, in the meantime, by slow marches, advanced to +Neumark, where Wallenstein made a general review. At the sight of this +formidable force, he could not refrain from indulging in a childish +boast: "In four days," said he, "it will be shown whether I or the +King of Sweden is to be master of the world." Yet, notwithstanding his +superiority, he did nothing to fulfil his promise; and even let slip +the opportunity of crushing his enemy when the latter had the +hardihood to leave his lines to meet him. "Battles enough have been +fought," was his answer to those who advised him to attack the King; +"it is now time to try another method." Wallenstein's well-founded +reputation required not any of those rash enterprises on which younger +soldiers rush, in the hope of gaining a name. Satisfied that the +enemy's despair would dearly sell a victory, while a defeat would +irretrievably ruin the Emperor's affairs, he resolved to wear out the +ardor of his opponent by a tedious blockade, and, by thus depriving +him of every opportunity of availing himself of his impetuous bravery, +take from him the very advantage which had hitherto rendered him +invincible. Without making any attack, therefore, he erected a strong +fortified camp on the other side of the Pegnitz, and opposite +Nuremberg; and, by this well chosen position, cut off from the city +and the camp of Gustavus all supplies from Franconia, Swabia, and +Thuringia. Thus he held in siege at once the city and the King, and +flattered himself with the hope of slowly, but surely, wearing out by +famine and pestilence the courage of his opponent whom he had no wish +to encounter in the field. + +Little aware, however, of the resources and the strength of his +adversary, Wallenstein had not taken sufficient precautions to avert +from himself the fate he was designing for others. From the whole of +the neighboring country, the peasantry had fled with their property; +and what little provision remained must be obstinately contested with +the Swedes. The King spared the magazines within the town, as long as +it was possible to provision his army from without; and these forays +produced constant skirmishes between the Croats and the Swedish +cavalry, of which the surrounding country exhibited the most +melancholy traces. The necessaries of life must be obtained sword in +hand; and the foraging parties could not venture out without a +numerous escort. And when this supply failed the town opened its +magazines to the King, but Wallenstein had to support his troops from +a distance. A large convoy from Bavaria was on its way to him, with an +escort of a thousand men. Gustavus Adolphus having received +intelligence of its approach, immediately sent out a regiment of +cavalry to intercept it; and the darkness of the night favored the +enterprise. The whole convoy, with the town in which it was, fell into +the hands of the Swedes; the Imperial escort was broken up; about +1,200 cattle were carried off; and a thousand wagons, loaded with +bread, which could not be brought away, were set on fire. Seven +regiments, which Wallenstein had sent forward to Altdorp to cover the +entrance of the long and anxiously expected convoy, were attacked by +the King, who had, in like manner, advanced to cover the retreat of +his cavalry and routed after an obstinate action, being driven back +into the Imperial camp with the loss of 400 men. So many checks and +difficulties, and so firm and unexpected a resistance on the part of +the King, made the Duke of Friedland repent that he had declined to +hazard a battle. The strength of the Swedish camp rendered an attack +impracticable; and the armed youth of Nuremberg served the King as a +nursery from which he could supply his loss of troops. The want of +provisions, which began to be felt in the Imperial camp as strongly as +in the Swedish, rendered it uncertain which party would be first +compelled to give way. + +Fifteen days had the two armies now remained in view of each other, +equally defended by inaccessible intrenchments, without attempting +anything more than slight attacks and unimportant skirmishes. On both +sides, infectious diseases, the natural consequences of bad food and a +crowded population, had occasioned a greater loss than the sword. And +this evil daily increased. But at length the long expected succor +arrived in the Swedish camp; and by this strong reinforcement the King +was now enabled to obey the dictates of his native courage and to +break the chains which had hitherto fettered him. + +In obedience to his requisitions, the Duke of Weimar had hastily drawn +together a corps from the garrisons in Lower Saxony and Thuringia, +which, at Schweinfurt in Franconia, was joined by four Saxon +regiments, and at Kitzingen by the corps of the Rhine, which the +Landgrave of Hesse and the Palatine of Birkenfeld dispatched to the +relief of the King. The Chancellor, Oxenstiern, undertook to lead this +force to its destination. After being joined at Windsheim by the Duke +of Weimar himself and the Swedish General Banner, he advanced by rapid +marches to Bruck and Eltersdorf, where he passed the Rednitz and +reached the Swedish camp in safety. This reinforcement amounted to +nearly 50,000 men, and was attended by a train of 60 pieces of cannon +and 4,000 baggage wagons. Gustavus now saw himself at the head of an +army of nearly 70,000 strong, without reckoning the militia of +Nuremberg, which, in case of necessity, could bring into the field +about 30,000 fighting men; a formidable force, opposed to another not +less formidable. The war seemed at length compressed to the point of a +single battle, which was to decide its fearful issue. With divided +sympathies, Europe looked with anxiety upon this scene, where the +whole strength of the two contending parties was fearfully drawn, as +it were, to a focus. + +If, before the arrival of the Swedish succor, a want of provisions had +been felt, the evil was now fearfully increased to a dreadful height +in both camps, for Wallenstein had also received reinforcements from +Bavaria. Besides the 120,000 men confronting each other, and more than +50,000 horses, in the two armies, and besides the inhabitants of +Nuremberg, whose number far exceeded the Swedish army, there were in +the camp of Wallenstein about 15,000 women, with as many drivers, and +nearly the same number in that of the Swedes. The custom of the time +permitted the soldier to carry his family with him to the field; a +number of prostitutes followed the Imperialists; while, with the view +of preventing the excesses practised by the latter, Gustavus's care +for the morals of his soldiers encouraged marriages. For the rising +generation who had this camp for their home and country, regular +military schools were established, which educated a race of excellent +warriors by whom the army might recruit itself in the course of a long +campaign. No wonder, then, if these wandering nations exhausted every +territory in which they encamped, and by their immense consumption +raised the necessaries of life to an exorbitant price. All the mills +of Nuremberg were insufficient to grind the corn required for each +day; and 15,000 pounds of bread, which were daily delivered by the +town into the Swedish camp, excited, without allaying, the hunger of +the soldiers. The laudable exertions of the magistrates of Nuremberg +could not prevent the greater part of the horses from dying for want +of forage, while the increasing mortality in the camp consigned more +than a hundred men daily to the grave. + +To put an end to these distresses, Gustavus Adolphus, relying on his +numerical superiority, left his lines on the 25th day, forming before +the enemy in order of battle, while he cannonaded the duke's camp from +three batteries erected on the side of the Rednitz. But the duke +remained immovable in his intrenchments, and contented himself with +answering this challenge by a distant fire of cannon and musketry. His +plan was to wear out the king by his inactivity, and by the force of +famine to overcome his resolute determination; and neither the +remonstrances of Maximilian and the impatience of his army, nor the +ridicule of his opponent, could shake his purpose. Gustavus, deceived +in his hope of forcing a battle, and compelled by his increasing +necessities, now attempted impossibilities, and resolved to storm a +position which art and nature had combined to render impregnable. + +Intrusting his own camp to the militia of Nuremberg, on the +fifty-eighth day of his encampment (the festival of St. Bartholomew), +he advanced in full order of battle, and passing the Rednitz at Furth, +easily drove the enemy's outposts before him. The main army of the +Imperialists was posted on the steep heights between the Biber and the +Rednitz, called the Old Fortress and Altenberg; while the camp itself, +commanded by these eminences, spread out immeasurably along the plain. +On these heights the whole of the artillery was placed. Deep trenches +surrounded inaccessible redoubts, while thick barricades, with pointed +palisades, defended the approaches to the heights, from the summits of +which Wallenstein calmly and securely discharged the lightnings of his +artillery from amid the dark thunder-clouds of smoke. A destructive +fire of musketry was maintained behind the breastworks, and a hundred +pieces of cannon threatened the desperate assailant with certain +destruction. Against this dangerous post Gustavus now directed his +attack; five hundred musketeers, supported by a few infantry (for a +greater number could not act in the narrow space), enjoyed the +unenvied privilege of first throwing themselves into the open jaws of +death. The assault was furious, the resistance obstinate. Exposed to +the whole fire of the enemy's artillery, and infuriated by the +prospect of inevitable death, these determined warriors rushed forward +to storm the heights which, in an instant, converted into a flaming +volcano, discharged on them a shower of shot. At the same moment, the +heavy cavalry rushed forward into the openings which the artillery had +made in the close ranks of the assailants, and divided them; till the +intrepid band, conquered by the strength of nature and of man, took to +flight, leaving a hundred dead upon the field. To Germans had Gustavus +yielded this post of honor. Exasperated at their retreat, he now led +on his Finlanders to the attack, thinking, by their northern courage, +to shame the cowardice of the Germans. But they, also, after a similar +hot reception, yielded to the superiority of the enemy; and a third +regiment succeeded them to experience the same fate. This was replaced +by a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth; so that, during a ten hours' +action, every regiment was brought to the attack to retire with bloody +loss from the contest. A thousand mangled bodies covered the field; +yet Gustavus undauntedly maintained the attack, and Wallenstein held +his position unshaken. + +In the mean time, a sharp contest had taken place between the imperial +cavalry and the left wing of the Swedes which was posted in a thicket +on the Rednitz, with varying success but with equal intrepedity and +loss on both sides. The Duke of Friedland and Prince Bernard of Weimar +had each a horse shot under him; the king himself had the sole of his +boot carried off by a cannon ball. The combat was maintained with +undiminished obstinacy, till the approach of night separated the +combatants. But the Swedes had advanced too far to retreat without +hazard. While the king was seeking an officer to convey to the +regiments the order to retreat, he met Colonel Hepburn, a brave +Scotchman, whose native courage alone had drawn him from the camp to +share in the dangers of the day. Offended with the king for having, +not long before, preferred a younger officer for some post of danger, +he had rashly vowed never again to draw his sword for the king. To him +Gustavus now addressed himself, praising his courage and requesting +him to order the regiments to retreat. "Sire," replied the brave +soldier, "it is the only service I cannot refuse to your Majesty; for +it is a hazardous one"--and immediately hastened to carry the command. +One of the heights above the old fortress had, in the heat of the +action, been carried by the Duke of Weimar. It commanded the hills and +the whole camp. But the heavy rain which fell during the night +rendered it impossible to draw up the cannon; and this post, which had +been gained with so much bloodshed, was also voluntarily abandoned. +Diffident of fortune, which forsook him on this decisive day, the king +did not venture the following morning to renew the attack with his +exhausted troops; and vanquished for the first time, even because he +was not victor, he led back his troops over the Rednitz. Two thousand +dead which he left behind him on the field, testified to the extent of +his loss; and the Duke of Friedland remained unconquered within his +lines. + +For fourteen days after this action, the two armies still continued in +front of each other, each in the hope that the other would be the +first to give way. Every day reduced their provisions, and, as +scarcity became greater, the unbridled excesses of the furious +soldiers exercised the wildest outrages on the peasantry. The +increasing distress broke up all discipline and order in the Swedish +camp; and the German regiments, in particular, distinguished +themselves for the ravages they practised indiscriminately on friend +and foe. The weak hand of a single individual could not check +excesses, encouraged by the silence, if not the actual example, of the +inferior officers. These shameful breaches of discipline, on the +maintenance of which he had hitherto justly prided himself, severely +pained the king; and the vehemence with which he reproached the German +officers for their negligence, bespoke the liveliness of his emotion. +"It is you yourselves, Germans," said he, "that rob your native +country, and ruin your own confederates in the faith. As God is my +judge, I abhor you, I loathe you; my heart sinks within me whenever I +look upon you. Ye break my orders; ye are the cause that the world +curses me, that the tears of poverty follow me, that complaints ring +in my ear--'The King, our friend, does us more harm than even our +worst enemies.' On your account I have stripped my own kingdom of its +treasures, and spent upon you more than 40 tons of gold;[61] while +from your German empire I have not received the least aid. I gave you +a share of all that God had given to me; and had ye regarded my orders +I would have gladly shared with you all my future acquisitions. Your +want of discipline convinces me of your evil intentions, whatever +cause I might otherwise have to applaud your bravery." + +Nuremberg had exerted itself, almost beyond its power, to subsist for +eleven weeks the vast crowd which was compressed within its +boundaries; but its means were at length exhausted, and the king's +more numerous party was obliged to determine on a retreat. By the +casualties of war and sickness, Nuremberg had lost more than 10,000 of +its inhabitants, and Gustavus Adolphus nearly 20,000 of his soldiers. +The fields around the city were trampled down, the villages were in +ashes, the plundered peasantry lay faint and dying on the highways; +foul odors infected the air, and bad food, the exhalations from so +dense a population, and so many putrifying carcasses, together with +the heat of the dog-days, produced a desolating pestilence which raged +among men and beasts, and long after the retreat of both armies, +continued to load the country with misery and distress. Affected by +the general distress, and despairing of conquering the steady +determination of the Duke of Friedland, the king broke up his camp on +the 5th of September, leaving in Nuremberg a sufficient garrison. He +advanced in full order of battle before the enemy, who remained +motionless and did not attempt in the least to harass his retreat. His +route lay by the Aisch and Windsheim toward Neustadt, where he halted +five days to refresh his troops, and also to be near to Nuremberg in +case the enemy should make an attempt upon the town. But Wallenstein, +as exhausted as himself, had only awaited the retreat of the Swedes to +commence his own. Five days afterward he broke up his camp at Zirndorf +and set it on fire. A hundred columns of smoke, rising from all the +burning villages in the neighborhood, announced his retreat and showed +the city the fate it had escaped. His march, which was directed on +Forchheim, was marked by the most frightful ravages; but he was too +far advanced to be overtaken by the king. The latter now divided his +army, which the exhausted country was unable to support, and leaving +one division to protect Franconia, with the other he prosecuted in +person his conquests in Bavaria. In the mean time, the imperial +Bavarian army had marched into the Bishopric of Bamberg, where the +Duke of Friedland a second time mustered his troops. He found this +force, which so lately had amounted to 60,000 men, diminished by the +sword, desertion, and disease, to about 24,000, and of these a fourth +were Bavarians. Thus had the encampments before Nuremberg weakened +both parties more than two great battles would have done, apparently +without advancing the termination of the war, or satisfying, by any +decisive result, the expectations of Europe. The king's conquests in +Bavaria, were, it is true, checked for a time by this diversion before +Nuremberg, and Austria itself secured against the danger of immediate +invasion; but by the retreat of the king from that city, he was again +left at full liberty to make Bavaria the seat of war. Indifferent +toward the fate of that country, and weary of the restraint which his +union with the Elector imposed upon him, the Duke of Friedland eagerly +seized the opportunity of separating from this burdensome associate, +and prosecuting, with renewed earnestness, his favorite plans. Still +adhering to his purpose of detaching Saxony from its Swedish +alliance, he selected that country for his winter quarters, hoping by +his destructive presence to force the Elector the more readily into +his views. + +No conjuncture could be more favorable for his designs. The Saxons had +invaded Silesia, where, reinforced by troops from Brandenburg and +Sweden, they had gained several advantages over the Emperor's troops. +Silesia would be saved by a diversion against the Elector in his own +territories, and the attempt was the more easy as Saxony, left +undefended during the war in Silesia, lay open on every side to +attack. The pretext of rescuing from the enemy a hereditary dominion +of Austria would silence the remonstrances of the Elector of Bavaria, +and, under the mask of a patriotic zeal for the Emperor's interests, +Maximilian might be sacrificed without much difficulty. By giving up +the rich country of Bavaria to the Swedes, he hoped to be left +unmolested by them in his enterprise against Saxony, while the +increasing coldness between Gustavus and the Saxon Court gave him +little reason to apprehend any extraordinary zeal for the deliverance +of John George. Thus a second time abandoned by his artful protector, +the Elector separated from Wallenstein at Bamberg, to protect his +defenceless territory with the small remains of his troops, while the +imperial army, under Wallenstein, directed its march through Bayreuth +and Coburg toward the Thuringian Forest. + +An imperial general, Holk, had previously been sent into Vogtland with +6,000 men, to waste this defenceless province with fire and sword; he +was soon followed by Gallas, another of the Duke's generals, and an +equally faithful instrument of his inhuman orders. Finally, +Pappenheim, too, was recalled from Lower Saxony, to reinforce the +diminished army of the duke and to complete the miseries of the +devoted country. Ruined churches, villages in ashes, harvests wilfully +destroyed, families plundered, and murdered peasants, marked the +progress of these barbarians, under whose scourge the whole of +Thuringia, Vogtland, and Meissen, lay defenceless. Yet this was but +the prelude to greater sufferings with which Wallenstein himself, at +the head of the main army, threatened Saxony. After having left behind +him fearful monuments of his fury, in his march through Franconia and +Thuringia, he arrived with his whole army in the Circle of Leipzic, +and compelled the city, after a short resistance, to surrender. His +design was to push on to Dresden, and by the conquest of the whole +country to prescribe laws to the Elector. He had already approached +the Mulda, threatening to overpower the Saxon army which had advanced +as far as Torgau to meet him, when the King of Sweden's arrival at +Erfurt gave an unexpected check to his operations. Placed between the +Saxon and Swedish armies, which were likely to be further reinforced +by the troops of George, Duke of Lueneburg, from Lower Saxony, he +hastily retired upon Meresberg, to form a junction there with Count +Pappenheim and to repel the further advance of the Swedes. + +Gustavus Adolphus had witnessed, with great uneasiness, the arts +employed by Spain and Austria to detach his allies from him. The more +important his alliance with Saxony, the more anxiety the inconstant +temper of John George caused him. Between himself and the Elector a +sincere friendship could never subsist. A prince, proud of his +political importance and accustomed to consider himself as the head of +his party, could not see without annoyance the interference of a +foreign power in the affairs of the Empire; and nothing but the +extreme danger of his dominions could overcome the aversion with which +he had long witnessed the progress of this unwelcome intruder. The +increasing influence of the king in Germany, his authority with the +Protestant states, the unambiguous proofs which he gave of his +ambitious views, which were of a character calculated to excite the +jealousies of all the states of the Empire, awakened in the Elector's +breast a thousand anxieties, which the imperial emissaries did not +fail skilfully to keep alive and cherish. Every arbitrary step on the +part of the King, every demand, however reasonable, which he +addressed to the princes of the Empire, was followed by bitter +complaints from the Elector, which seemed to announce an approaching +rupture. Even the generals of the two powers, whenever they were +called upon to act in common, manifested the same jealousy as divided +their leaders. John George's natural aversion to war, and a lingering +attachment to Austria, favored the efforts of Arnheim, who, +maintaining a constant correspondence with Wallenstein, labored +incessantly to effect a private treaty between his master and the +Emperor; and if his representatives were long disregarded, still the +event proved that they were not altogether without effect. + +Gustavus Adolphus, naturally apprehensive of the consequences which +the defection of so powerful an ally would produce on his future +prospects in Germany, spared no pains to avert so pernicious an event; +and his remonstrances had hitherto had some effect upon the Elector. +But the formidable power with which the Emperor seconded his seductive +proposals, and the miseries which, in the case of hesitation, he +threatened to accumulate upon Saxony, might at length overcome the +resolution of the Elector, should he be left exposed to the vengeance +of his enemies; while an indifference to the fate of so powerful a +confederate would irreparably destroy the confidence of the other +allies in their protector. This consideration induced the king a +second time to yield to the pressing entreaties of the Elector and to +sacrifice his own brilliant prospects to the safety of this ally. He +had already resolved upon a second attack on Ingoldstadt; and the +weakness of the Elector of Bavaria gave him hopes of soon forcing this +exhausted enemy to accede to a neutrality. An insurrection of the +peasantry in Upper Austria opened to him a passage into that country, +and the capital might be in his possession before Wallenstein could +have time to advance to its defence. All these views he now gave up +for the sake of an ally, who, neither by his services nor his fidelity +was worthy of the sacrifices; who, on the pressing occasions of +common good, had steadily adhered to his own selfish projects; and who +was important, not for the services he was expected to render, but +merely for the injuries he had it in his power to inflict. Is it +possible, then, to refrain from indignation, when we know that, in +this expedition, undertaken for the benefit of such an ally, the great +king was destined to terminate his career? + +Rapidly assembling his troops in Franconia, he followed the route of +Wallenstein through Thuringia. Duke Bernard of Weimar, who had been +dispatched to act against Pappenheim, joined the king at Armstadt, who +now saw himself at the head of 20,000 veterans. At Erfurt he took +leave of his queen, who was not to behold him save in his coffin at +Weissenfels. Their anxious adieus seemed to forbode an eternal +separation. He reached Naumburg on the 1st of November, 1632, before +the corps, which the Duke of Friedland had dispatched for that +purpose, could make itself master of that place. The inhabitants of +the surrounding country flocked in crowds to look upon the hero, the +avenger, the great king, who, a year before, had first appeared in +that quarter, like a guardian angel. Shouts of joy everywhere attended +his progress; the people knelt before him, and struggled for the honor +of touching the sheath of his sword or the hem of his garment. The +modest hero disliked this innocent tribute which a sincerely grateful +and admiring multitude paid him. "Is it not," said he, "as if this +people would make a God of me? Our affairs prosper, indeed; but I fear +the vengeance of Heaven will punish me for this presumption, and soon +enough reveal to this deluded multitude my human weakness and +mortality!" How amiable does Gustavus appear before us at this moment, +when about to leave us forever! Even in the plentitude of success, he +honors an avenging Nemesis, declines that homage which is due only to +the Immortal, and strengthens his title to our tears, the nearer the +moment approaches that is to call them forth! In the mean time, the +Duke of Friedland had determined to advance to meet the king, as far +as Weissenfels, and, even at the hazard of a battle, to secure his +winter-quarters in Saxony. His inactivity before Nuremberg had +occasioned a suspicion that he was unwilling to measure his powers +with those of the Hero of the North, and his hard-earned reputation +would be at stake, if, a second time, he should decline a battle. His +present superiority in numbers, though much less than what it was at +the beginning of the siege of Nuremberg, was still enough to give him +hopes of victory, if he could compel the king to give battle before +his junction with the Saxons. But his present reliance was not so much +in his numerical superiority as in the predictions of his astrologer +Seni, who had read in the stars that the good fortune of the Swedish +monarch would decline in the month of November. Besides, between +Naumburg and Weissenfels there was a range of narrow defiles formed by +a long mountainous ridge, and also the river Saal which ran at their +foot, along which the Swedes could not advance without difficulty, and +which might, with the assistance of a few troops, be rendered almost +impassable. If attacked there, the king would have no choice but +either to penetrate with great danger through the defiles, or commence +a laborious retreat through Thuringia, and to expose the greater part +of his army to a march through a desert country entirely destitute of +all necessary supplies. But the rapidity with which Gustavus Adolphus +had taken possession of Naumburg disappointed this plan, and it was +now Wallenstein himself who awaited the attack. + +But in this expectation he was disappointed; for the king, instead of +advancing to meet him at Weissenfels, made preparations for +intrenching himself near Naumburg, with the intention of awaiting +there the reinforcements which the Duke of Luneburg was bringing up. +Undecided whether to advance against the king through the narrow +passes between Weissenfels and Naumburg or to remain inactive in his +camp, he called a council of war, in order to have the opinion of his +most experienced generals. None of these thought it prudent to attack +the king in his advantageous position. On the other hand, the +preparations which the latter made to fortify his camp plainly showed +that it was not his intention soon to abandon it. But the approach of +winter rendered it impossible to prolong the campaign and by a +continued encampment to exhaust the strength of the army, already so +much in need of repose. All voices were in favor of immediately +terminating the campaign, and the more so, as the important city of +Cologne upon the Rhine was threatened by the Dutch, while the progress +of the enemy in Westphalia and the Lower Rhine called for effective +reinforcements in that quarter. Wallenstein yielded to the weight of +these arguments, and, almost convinced that, at this season, he had no +reason to apprehend an attack from the King, he put his troops into +winter-quarters, but so that, if necessary, they might be rapidly +assembled. Count Pappenheim was dispatched, with a great part of the +army, to the assistance of Cologne, with orders to take possession, on +his march, of the fortress of Moritzburg, in the territory of Halle. +Different corps took up their winter-quarters in the neighboring +towns, to watch, on all sides, the motions of the enemy. Count +Colloredo guarded the castle of Weissenfels, and Wallenstein himself +encamped with the remainder not far from Merseburg, between Flotzgaben +and the Saal, from whence he purposed to march to Leipzic and to cut +off the communication between the Saxons and the Swedish army. + +Scarcely had Gustavus Adolphus been informed of Pappenheim's +departure, when, suddenly breaking up his camp at Naumburg, he +hastened with his whole force to attack the enemy, now weakened to one +half. He advanced, by rapid marches, toward Weissenfels, from whence +the news of his arrival quickly reached the enemy and greatly +astonished the Duke of Friedland. But a speedy resolution was now +necessary; and the measures of Wallenstein were soon taken. Though he +had little more than 12,000 men to oppose to the 20,000 of the enemy, +he might hope to maintain his ground until the return of Pappenheim, +who could not have advanced farther than Halle, five miles distant. +Messengers were hastily dispatched to recall him, while Wallenstein +moved forward into the wide plain between the Canal and Luetzen, where +lie awaited the King in full order of battle, and, by this position, +cut off his communication with Leipzic and the Saxons auxiliaries. + +Three cannon shots, fired by Count Colloredo from the castle of +Weissenfels, announced the king's approach; and at this concerted +signal, the light troops of the Duke of Friedland, under the command +of the Croatian General Isolani, moved forward to possess themselves +of the villages lying upon the Rippach. Their weak resistance did not +impede the advance of the enemy, who crossed the Rippach, near the +village of that name, and formed in line below Luetzen, opposite the +Imperialists. The high road which goes from Weissenfels to Leipzic is +intersected between Luetzen and Markranstadt by the canal which extends +from Zeitz to Merseburg and unites the Elster with the Saal. On this +canal rested the left wing of the Imperialists, and the right of the +King of Sweden; but so that the cavalry of both extended themselves +along the opposite side. To the northward, behind Luetzen, was +Wallenstein's right wing, and to the south of that town was posted the +left wing of the Swedes; both armies fronted the high road, which ran +between them and divided their order of battle; but the evening before +the battle, Wallenstein, to the great disadvantage of his opponent, +had possessed himself of this highway, deepened the trenches which ran +along its sides, and planted them with musketeers, so as to make the +crossing of it both difficult and dangerous. Behind these, again, was +erected a battery of seven large pieces of cannon, to support the fire +from the trenches; and at the windmills, close behind Luetzen, fourteen +smaller field-pieces were ranged on an eminence from which they could +sweep the greater part of the plain. The infantry, divided into no +more than five unwieldy brigades, was drawn up at the distance of 300 +paces from the road, and the cavalry covered the flanks. All the +baggage was sent to Leipzic that it might not impede the movements of +the army; and the ammunition-wagons alone remained, which were placed +in rear of the line. To conceal the weakness of the Imperialists, all +the camp-followers and sutlers were mounted and posted on the left +wing, but only until Pappenheim's troops arrived. These arrangements +were made during the darkness of the night; and when the morning +dawned all was ready for the reception of the enemy. + +On the evening of the same day, Gustavus Adolphus appeared on the +opposite plain and formed his troops in the order of attack. His +disposition was the same as that which had been so successful the year +before at Leipzic. Small squadrons of horse were interspersed among +the divisions of the infantry, and troops of musketeers were placed +here and there among the cavalry. The army was arranged in two lines, +the canal on the right and in its rear, the high road in front, and +the town on the left. In the centre the infantry was formed, under the +command of Count Brahe; the cavalry on the wings; the artillery in +front. To the German hero, Bernard, Duke of Weimar, was intrusted the +command of the German cavalry of the left wing; while, on the right, +the king led on the Swedes in person, in order to excite the emulation +of the two nations to a noble competition. The second line was formed +in the same manner; and behind these was placed the reserve, commanded +by Henderson, a Scotchman. + +In this position they awaited the eventful dawn of morning, to begin a +contest which long delay, rather than the probability of decisive +consequences, and the picked body, rather than the number of the +combatants, was to render so terrible and remarkable. The strained +expectation of Europe, so disappointed before Nuremberg, was now to be +gratified on the plains of Luetzen. During the whole course of the +war, two such generals, so equally matched in renown and ability, had +not before been pitted against each other. Never, as yet, had daring +been cooled by so awful a hazard, or hope animated by so glorious a +prize. Europe was next day to learn who was her greatest +general--tomorrow the leader, who had hitherto been invincible, must +acknowledge a victor. This morning was to place it beyond a doubt +whether the victories of Gustavus at Leipzic and on the Lech were +owing to his own military genius, or to the incompetency of his +opponent; whether the services of Wallenstein were to vindicate the +Emperor's choice and justify the high price at which they had been +purchased. The victory was as yet doubtful, but certain were the labor +and the bloodshed by which it must be earned. Every private in both +armies felt a jealous share in their leader's reputation, and under +every corslet beat the same emotions that inflamed the bosoms of the +generals. Each army knew the enemy to which it was to be opposed: and +the anxiety which each in vain attempted to repress was a convincing +proof of their opponent's strength. + +At last the fateful morning dawned; but an impenetrable fog, which +spread over the plain, delayed the attack till noon. Kneeling in front +of his lines, the king offered up his devotions; and the whole army, +at the same moment dropping on their knees, burst into a moving hymn, +accompanied by the military music. The king then mounted his horse, +and clad only in a leathern doublet and surtout (for a wound he had +formerly received prevented his wearing armor), rode along the ranks +to animate the courage of his troops with a joyful confidence, which, +however, the foreboding presentiment of his own bosom contradicted. +"God with us!" was the war-cry of the Swedes; "Jesus Maria!" that of +the Imperialists. About eleven the fog began to disperse, and the +enemy became visible. At the same moment Luetzen was seen in flames, +having been set on fire by command of the duke to prevent his being +outflanked on that side. The charge was now sounded; the cavalry +rushed upon the enemy, and the infantry advanced against the trenches. + +Received by a tremendous fire of musketry and heavy artillery, these +intrepid battalions maintained the attack with undaunted courage, till +the enemy's musketeers abandoned their posts, the trenches were +passed, the battery carried and turned against the enemy. They pressed +forward with irresistible impetuosity; the first of the five imperial +brigades was immediately routed, the second soon after, and the third +put to flight. But here the genius of Wallenstein opposed itself to +their progress. With the rapidity of lightning he was on the spot to +rally his discomfited troops; and his powerful word was itself +sufficient to stop the flight of the fugitives. Supported by three +regiments of cavalry, the vanquished brigades, forming anew, faced the +enemy and pressed vigorously into the broken ranks of the Swedes. A +murderous conflict ensued. The nearness of the enemy left no room for +fire-arms, the fury of the attack no time for loading; man was matched +to man, the useless musket exchanged for the sword and pike, and +science gave way to desperation. Overpowered by numbers, the wearied +Swedes at last retire beyond the trenches; and the captured battery is +again lost by the retreat. A thousand mangled bodies already strewed +the plain, and as yet not a single step of ground had been won. In the +meantime the king's right wing, led by himself, had fallen upon the +enemy's left. The first impetuous shock of the heavy Finland +cuirassiers dispersed the lightly-mounted Poles and Croats, who were +posted here, and their disorderly flight spread terror and confusion +among the rest of the cavalry. At this moment notice was brought the +king that his infantry were retreating over the trenches, and also +that his left wing, exposed to a severe fire from the enemy's cannon +posted at the windmills, was beginning to give way. With rapid +decision he committed to General Horn the pursuit of the enemy's left, +while he flew, at the head of the regiment of Steinboek, to repair +the disorder of his right wing. His noble charger bore him with the +velocity of lightning across the trenches, but the squadrons that +followed could not come on with the same speed, and only a few +horsemen, among whom was Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg, were +able to keep up with the king. He rode directly to the place where his +infantry were most closely pressed, and while he was reconnoitering +the enemy's line for an exposed point of attack, the shortness of his +sight unfortunately led him too close to their ranks. An imperial +Gefreyter,[62] remarking that every one respectfully made way for him +as he rode along, immediately ordered a musketeer to take aim at him. +"Fire at him yonder," said he; "that must be a man of consequence." +The soldier fired, and the king's left arm was shattered. At that +moment his squadron came hurrying up, and a confused cry of "The king +bleeds! the king is shot!" spread terror and consternation through all +the ranks. "It is nothing--follow me," cried the king, collecting his +whole strength; but overcome by pain and nearly fainting, he requested +the Duke of Lauenburg, in French, to lead him unobserved out of the +tumult. While the duke proceeded toward the right wing with the king, +making a long circuit to keep this discouraging sight from the +disordered infantry, his majesty received a second shot through the +back, which deprived him of his remaining strength. "Brother," said +he, with a dying voice, "I have enough! look only to your own life." +At the same moment he fell from his horse pierced by several more +shots; and abandoned by all his attendants, he breathed his last +amidst the plundering hands of the Croats. His charger, flying without +its rider and covered with blood, soon made known to the Swedish +cavalry the fall of their king. They rushed madly forward to rescue +his sacred remains from the hands of the enemy. A murderous conflict +ensued over the body, till his mangled remains were buried beneath a +heap of slain. + +The mournful tidings soon ran through the Swedish army; but instead +of destroying the courage of these brave troops, it but excited it +into a new, a wild, and consuming flame. Life had lessened in value, +now that the most sacred life of all was gone; death had no terrors +for the lowly since the anointed head was not spared. With the fury of +lions the Upland, Smaeland, Finland, East and West Gothland regiments +rushed a second time upon the left wing of the enemy, which, already +making but feeble resistance to General Horn, was now entirely beaten +from the field. Bernard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, gave to the bereaved +Swedes a noble leader in his own person; and the spirit of Gustavus +led his victorious squadrons anew. The left wing quickly formed again +and vigorously pressed the right of the Imperialists. The artillery at +the windmills, which had maintained so murderous a fire upon the +Swedes, was captured and turned against the enemy. The centre, also, +of the Swedish infantry, commanded by the duke and Knyphausen, +advanced a second time against the trenches, which they successfully +passed, and retook the battery of seven cannons. The attack was now +renewed with redoubled fury upon the heavy battalions of the enemy's +centre; their resistance became gradually less, and chance conspired +with Swedish valor to complete the defeat. The imperial powder-wagons +took fire, and, with a tremendous explosion, grenades and bombs filled +the air. The enemy, now in confusion, thought they were attacked in +the rear, while the Swedish brigades pressed them in front. Their +courage began to fail them. Their left wing was already beaten, their +right wavering, and their artillery in the enemy's hands. The battle +seemed to be almost decided; another moment would settle the fate of +the day, when Pappenheim appeared on the field, with his cuirassiers +and dragoons; all the advantages already gained were lost, and the +battle was to be fought anew. + +The order which recalled that general to Luetzen had reached him in +Halle, while his troops were still plundering the town. It was +impossible to collect the scattered infantry with that rapidity which +the urgency of the order and Pappenheim's impatience required. Without +waiting for it, therefore, he ordered eight regiments of cavalry to +mount; and at their head he galloped at full speed for Luetzen, to +share in the battle. He arrived in time to witness the flight of the +imperial right wing, which Gustavus Horn was driving from the field, +and to be at first involved in their rout. But with rapid presence of +mind he rallied the flying troops, and led them once more against the +enemy. Carried away by his wild bravery, and impatient to encounter +the king who he supposed was at the head of this wing, he burst +furiously upon the Swedish ranks, which, exhausted by victory, and +inferior in numbers, were, after a noble resistance, overpowered by +this fresh body of enemies. Pappenheim's unexpected appearance revived +the drooping courage of the Imperialists, and the Duke of Friedland +quickly availed himself of the favorable moment to re-form his line. +The closely serried battalions of the Swedes were, after a tremendous +conflict, again driven across the trenches; and the battery, which had +been twice lost, was again rescued from their hands. The whole yellow +regiment, the finest of all that distinguished themselves in this +dreadful day, lay dead on the field, covering the ground almost in the +same excellent order which, when alive, they maintained with such +unyielding courage. The same fate befell another regiment of Blues, +which Count Piccolomini attacked with the imperial cavalry and cut +down after a desperate contest. Seven times did this intrepid general +renew the attack; seven horses were shot under him, and he himself was +pierced with six musket balls; yet he would not leave the field, until +he was carried along in the general rout of the whole army. +Wallenstein himself was seen riding through his ranks with cool +intrepidity, amidst a shower of balls, assisting the distressed, +encouraging the valiant with praise, and the wavering by his fearful +glance. Around and close by him his men were falling thick, and his +own mantle was perforated by several shots. But avenging destiny this +day protected that breast for which another weapon was reserved; on +the same field where the noble Gustavus expired, Wallenstein was not +allowed to terminate his guilty career. + +Less fortunate was Pappenheim, the Telamon of the army, the bravest +soldier of Austria and the church. An ardent desire to encounter the +king in person carried this daring leader into the thickest of the +fight, where he thought his noble opponent was most surely to be met. +Gustavus had also expressed a wish to meet his brave antagonist, but +these hostile wishes remained ungratified; death first brought +together these two great heroes. Two musket-balls pierced the breast +of Pappenheim; and his men forcibly carried him from the field. While +they were conveying him to the rear, a murmur reached him that he whom +he had sought lay dead upon the plain. When the truth of the report +was confirmed to him, his look became brighter, his dying eye sparkled +with a last gleam of joy. "I Tell the Duke of Friedland," said he, +"that I lie without hope of life, but that I die happy, since I know +that the implacable enemy of my religion has fallen on the same day." + +With Pappenheim, the good fortune of the Imperialists departed. The +cavalry of the left wing, already beaten, and only rallied by his +exertions, no sooner missed their victorious leader than they gave up +everything for lost and abandoned the field of battle in spiritless +despair. The right wing fell into the same confusion, with the +exception of a few regiments which the bravery of their colonels Goetz, +Terzky, Colloredo, and Piccolomini compelled to keep their ground. The +Swedish infantry, with prompt determination, profited by the enemy's +confusion. To fill up the gaps which death had made in the front line, +they formed both lines into one, and with it made the final and +decisive charge. A third time they crossed the trenches, and a third +time they captured the battery. The sun was setting when the two lines +closed. The strife grew hotter as it drew to an end; the last efforts +of strength were mutually exerted, and skill and courage did their +utmost to repair in these precious moments the fortune of the day. It +was in vain; despair endows every one with superhuman strength; no one +can conquer, no one will give way. The art of war seemed to exhaust +its powers on one side, only to unfold some new and untried +masterpiece of skill on the other. Night and darkness at last put at +end to the fight, before the fury of the combatants was exhausted; and +the contest ceased only when no one could any longer find an +antagonist. Both armies separated, as if by tacit agreement; the +trumpets sounded, and each party claiming the victory, quitted the +field. + +The artillery on both sides, as the horses could not be found, +remained all night upon the field, at once the reward and the evidence +of victory to him who should hold it. Wallenstein, in his haste to +leave Leipzic and Saxony, forgot to remove his part. Not long after +the battle was ended, Pappenheim's infantry, who had been unable to +follow the rapid movements of their general and who amounted to six +regiments, marched on the field, but the work was done. A few hours +earlier, so considerable a reinforcement would perhaps have decided +the day in favor of the Imperialists; and, even now, by remaining on +the field, they might have saved the duke's artillery and made a prize +of that of the Swedes. But they had received no orders to act; and, +uncertain as to the issue of the battle, they retired to Leipzic, +where they hoped to join the main body. + +The Duke of Friedland had retreated thither, and was followed on the +morrow by the scattered remains of his army, without artillery, +without colors, and almost without arms. The Duke of Weimar, it +appears, after the toils of this bloody day, allowed the Swedish army +some repose, between Luetzen and Weissenfels, near enough to the field +of battle to oppose any attempt the enemy might make to recover it. Of +the two armies, more than 9,000 men lay dead; a still greater number +were wounded, and, among the Imperialists, scarcely a man escaped from +the field uninjured. The entire plain from Luetzen to the Canal was +strewed with the wounded, the dying, and the dead. Many of the +principal nobility had fallen on both sides. Even the Abbot of Fulda, +who had mingled in the combat as a spectator, paid for his curiosity +and his ill-timed zeal with his life. History says nothing of +prisoners; a further proof of the animosity of the combatants, who +neither gave nor took quarter. + +Pappenheim died the next day of his wounds at Leipzig; an irreparable +loss to the imperial army, which this brave warrior had so often led +on to victory. The battle of Prague, where together with Wallenstein, +he was present as colonel, was the beginning of his heroic career. +Dangerously wounded, with a few troops, he made an impetuous attack on +a regiment of the enemy, and lay for several hours mixed with the dead +upon the field, beneath the weight of his horse, till he was +discovered by some of his own men in plundering. With a small force he +defeated, in three different engagements, the rebels in Upper Austria, +though 40,000 strong. At the battle of Leipzic, he for a long time +delayed the defeat of Tilly by his bravery, and led the arms of the +Emperor on the Elbe and the Weser to victory. The wild impetuous fire +of his temperament, which no danger, however apparent, could cool, or +impossibilities check, made him the most powerful arm of the imperial +force, but unfitted him for acting at its head. The battle of Leipzic, +if Tilly may be believed, was lost through his rash ardor. At the +destruction of Magdeburg, his hands were deeply steeped in blood; war +rendered savage and ferocious his disposition, which had been +cultivated by youthful studies and various travels. On his forehead, +two red streaks, like swords, were perceptible, with which nature had +marked him at his very birth. Even in his later years these became +visible, as often as his blood was stirred by passion; and +superstition easily persuaded itself that the future destiny of the +man was thus impressed upon the forehead of the child. As a faithful +servant of the House of Austria, he had the strongest claims on the +gratitude of both its lines, but he did not survive to enjoy the most +brilliant proof of their regard. A messenger was already on his way +from Madrid, bearing to him the order of the Golden Fleece, when death +overtook him at Leipzic. + +Though _Te Deum_, in all Spanish and Austrian lands, was sung in honor +of a victory, Wallenstein himself, by the haste with which he quitted +Leipzic and, soon after, all Saxony, and by renouncing his original +design of fixing there his winter-quarters, openly confessed his +defeat. It is true he made one more feeble attempt to dispute, even in +his flight, the honor of victory, by sending out his Croats next +morning to the field; but the sight of the Swedish army drawn up in +order of battle, immediately dispersed these flying bands, and Duke +Bernard, by keeping possession of the field, and soon after by the +capture of Leipzic, maintained indisputably his claim to the title of +victor. + +But it was a dear conquest, a dearer triumph! It was not till the fury +of the contest was over that the full weight of the loss sustained was +felt and the shout of triumph died away into a silent gloom of +despair. He, who had led them to the charge, returned not with them: +there he lay upon the field which he had won, mingled with the dead +bodies of the common crowd. After a long and almost fruitless search, +the corpse of the king was discovered, not far from the great stone, +which, for a hundred years before, had stood between Luetzen and the +Canal, and which, from the memorable disaster of that day, still bears +the name of the Stone of the Swede. Covered with blood and wounds so +as scarcely to be recognized, trampled beneath the horses' hoofs, +stripped by the rude hands of plunderers of its ornaments and clothes, +his body was drawn from beneath a heap of dead, conveyed to +Weissenfels, and there delivered up to the lamentations of his +soldiers and the last embraces of his queen. The first tribute had +been paid to revenge, and blood had atoned for the blood of the +monarch; but now affection assumes its rights, and tears of grief must +flow for the man. The universal sorrow absorbs all individual woes. +The generals, still stupefied by the unexpected blow, stood speechless +and motionless around his bier, and no one trusted himself enough to +contemplate the full extent of their loss. + +The Emperor, we are told by Khevenhuller, showed symptoms of deep, and +apparently sincere feeling, at the sight of the king's doublet stained +with blood, which had been stripped from him during the battle and +carried to Vienna. "Willingly," said he, "would I have granted to the +unfortunate prince a longer life and a safe return to his kingdom, had +Germany been at peace." But when a trait, which is nothing more than a +proof of a yet lingering humanity and which a mere regard to +appearances and even self-love would have extorted from the most +insensible, and the absence of which could exist only in the most +inhuman heart, has, by a Roman Catholic writer of modern times and +acknowledged merit, been made the subject of the highest eulogium and +compared with the magnanimous tears of Alexander for the fall of +Darius, our distrust is excited of the other virtues of the writer's +hero, and, what is still worse, of his own ideas of moral dignity. But +even such praise, whatever its amount, is much for one whose memory +his biographer has to clear from the suspicion of being privy to the +assassination of a king. + +It was scarcely to be expected that the strong leaning of mankind to +the marvelous would leave to the common course of nature the glory of +ending the career of Gustavus Adolphus. The death of so formidable a +rival was too important an event for the Emperor not to excite in his +bitter opponent a ready suspicion that what was so much to his +interests was also the result of his instigation. For the execution, +however, of this dark deed, the Emperor would require the aid of a +foreign arm, and this it was generally believed he had found in +Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg. The rank of the latter +permitted him a free access to the king's person, while at the same +time it seemed to place him above the suspicion of so foul a deed. +This prince, however, was in fact not incapable of this atrocity, and +he had, moreover, sufficient motives for its commission. + +Francis Albert, the youngest of four sons of Francis II., Duke of +Lauenburg, and related by the mother's side to the race of Vasa, had, +in his early years, found a most friendly reception at the Swedish +court. Some offence which he had committed against Gustavus Adolphus, +in the queen's chamber, was, it is said, repaid by this fiery youth +with a box on the ear; which, though immediately repented of, and +amply apologized for, laid the foundation of an irreconcilable hate in +the vindictive heart of the duke. Francis Albert subsequently entered +the imperial service, where he rose to the command of a regiment, +formed a close intimacy with Wallenstein, and condescended to be the +instrument of a secret negotiation with the Saxon court, which did +little honor to his rank. Without any sufficient cause being assigned, +he suddenly quitted the Austrian service, and appeared in the king's +camp at Nuremberg to offer his services as a volunteer. By his show of +zeal for the Protestant cause, and a prepossessing and flattering +deportment, he gained the heart of the king, who, warned in vain by +Oxenstiern, continued to lavish his favor and friendship on this +suspicious new comer. The battle of Luetzen soon followed, in which +Francis Albert, like an evil genius, kept close to the king's side and +did not leave him till he fell. He owed, it was thought, his own +safety amidst the fire of the enemy, to a green sash which he wore, +the color of the Imperialists. He was at any rate the first to convey +to his friend Wallenstein the intelligence of the king's death. After +the battle, he exchanged the Swedish service for the Saxon; and, after +the murder of Wallenstein, being charged with being an accomplice of +that general, he escaped the sword of justice only by abjuring his +faith. His last appearance in life was as commander of an imperial +army in Silesia, where he died of the wounds he had received before +Schweidnitz. It requires some effort to believe in the innocence of a +man, who had run through a career like this, of the act charged +against him; but, however great may be the moral and physical +possibility of his committing such a crime, it must still be allowed +that there are no certain grounds for imputing it to him. Gustavus +Adolphus, it is well known, exposed himself to danger, like the +meanest soldier in his army, and where thousands fell, he, too, might +naturally meet his death. How it reached him, remains indeed buried in +mystery; but here, more than anywhere, does the maxim apply that where +the ordinary course of things is fully sufficient to account for the +fact, the honor of human nature ought not to be stained by any +suspicion of moral atrocity. + +But by whatever hand he fell, his extraordinary destiny must appear a +great interposition of Providence. History, too often confined to the +ungrateful task of analyzing the uniform play of human passions, is +occasionally rewarded by the appearance of events which strike, like a +hand from heaven, into the nicely adjusted machinery of human plans +and carry the contemplative mind to a higher order of things. Of this +kind is the sudden retirement of Gustavus Adolphus from the +scene--stopping for a time the whole movement of the political machine +and disappointing all the calculations of human prudence. Yesterday, +the very soul, the great and animating principle of his own creation; +today, struck unpitiably to the ground in the very midst of his eagle +flight; untimely torn from a whole world of great designs and from the +ripening harvest of his expectations, he left his bereaved party +disconsolate; and the proud edifice of his past greatness sunk into +ruins. The Protestant party had identified its hopes with its +invincible leader, and scarcely can it now separate them from him; +with him, they now fear all good fortune is buried. But it was no +longer the benefactor of Germany who fell at Luetzen; the beneficient +part of his career Gustavus Adolphus had already terminated; and now +the greatest service which he could render to the liberties of Germany +was--to die. The all-engrossing power of an individual was at an end, +but many came forward to essay their strength; the equivocal +assistance of an over-powerful protector gave place to a more noble +self-exertion on the part of the Estates; and those who were formerly +the mere instruments of his aggrandizement now began to work for +themselves. They now looked to their own exertions for the +emancipation which could not be received without danger from the hand +of the mighty; and the Swedish power, now incapable of sinking into +the oppressor, was henceforth restricted to the more modest part of an +ally. + +The ambition of the Swedish monarch aspired unquestionably to +establish a power within Germany and to attain a firm footing in the +centre of the empire, which was inconsistent with the liberties of the +Estates. His aim was the imperial crown; and this dignity, supported +by his power and maintained by his energy and activity, would in his +hands be liable to more abuse than had ever been feared from the House +of Austria. Born in a foreign country, educated in the maxims of +arbitrary power, and by principles and enthusiasm a determined enemy +to Popery, he was ill qualified to maintain inviolate the constitution +of the German States, or to respect their liberties. The coercive +homage which Augsburg, with many other cities, was forced to pay to +the Swedish crown, bespoke the conqueror rather than the protector of +the empire; and this town, prouder of the title of a royal city than +of the higher dignity of the freedom of the empire, flattered itself +with the anticipation of becoming the capital of his future kingdom. +His ill-disguised attempts upon the Electorate of Mentz, which he +first intended to bestow upon the Elector of Brandenburg, as the dower +of his daughter Christina, and afterward destined for his chancellor +and friend Oxenstiern, evinced plainly what liberties he was disposed +to take with the constitution of the empire. His allies, the +Protestant princes, had claims on his gratitude, which could be +satisfied only at the expense of their Roman Catholic neighbors, and +particularly of the immediate Ecclesiastical Chapters; and it seems +probable a plan was early formed for dividing the conquered provinces +(after the precedent of the barbarian hordes who overran the German +empire) as a common spoil, among the German and Swedish confederates. +In his treatment of the Elector Palatine, he entirely belied the +magnanimity of the hero, and forgot the sacred character of a +protector. The Palatinate was in his hands, and the obligations both +of justice and honor demanded its full and immediate restoration to +the legitimate sovereign. But, by a subtlety unworthy of a great mind, +and disgraceful to the honorable title of protector of the oppressed, +he eluded that obligation. He treated the Palatinate as a conquest +wrested from the enemy, and thought that this circumstance gave him a +right to deal with it as he pleased. He surrendered it to the Elector +as a favor, not as a debt; and that, too, as a Swedish fief, fettered +by conditions which diminished half its value, and degraded this +unfortunate prince into a humble vassal of Sweden. One of these +conditions obliged the Elector, after the conclusion of the war, to +furnish, along with the other princes, his contribution toward the +maintenance of the Swedish army, a condition which plainly indicates +the fate which, in the event of the ultimate success of the king, +awaited Germany. His sudden disappearance secured the liberties of +Germany and saved his reputation, while it probably spared him the +mortification of seeing his own allies in arms against him and all the +fruits of his victories torn from him by a disadvantageous peace. +Saxony was already disposed to abandon him, Denmark viewed his success +with alarm and jealousy; and even France, the firmest and most potent +of his allies, terrified at the rapid growth of his power and the +imperious tone which he assumed, looked around for foreign alliances +at the very moment he passed the Lech in order to check the progress +of the Goths and restore to Europe the balance of power. + + * * * * * + + FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 59: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 60: Priests' plunder; alluding to the means by which the +expense of its erection had been defrayed.] + +[Footnote 61: A ton of gold in Sweden amounts to 100,000 rix dollars.] + +[Footnote 62: Gefreyter, a person exempt from watching duty, nearly +corresponding to the corporal.] + + * * * * * + + + + +ON THE USE OF THE CHORUS IN TRAGEDY (1803)[63] + +TRANSLATED BY A. LODGE + + +A Poetical work must vindicate itself--if the execution be defective, +little aid can be derived from commentaries. + +On these grounds, I might safely leave the Chorus to be its own +advocate, if we had ever seen it presented in an appropriate manner. +But it must be remembered that a dramatic composition first assumes +the character of a whole by means of representation on the stage. The +Poet supplies only the words, to which, in a lyrical tragedy, music +and rhythmical motion are essential accessories. It follows, then, +that if the Chorus is deprived of accompaniments appealing so +powerfully to the senses, it will appear a superfluity in the economy +of the drama--mere hindrance to the development of the +plot--destructive to the illusion of the scene and wearisome to the +spectators. To do justice to the Chorus, more especially if our aims +in Poetry be of a grand and elevated character, we must transport +ourselves from the actual to a possible stage. It is the privilege of +Art to furnish for itself whatever is requisite, and the accidental +deficiency of auxiliaries ought not to confine the plastic imagination +of the Poet. He aspires to whatever is most dignified, he labors to +realize the ideal in his own mind-though in the execution of his +purpose he must needs accommodate himself to circumstances. + +The assertion so commonly made, that the Public degrades Art, is not +well founded. It is the artist that brings the Public to the level of +his own conceptions; and, in every age in which Art has gone to decay, +it has fallen through its professors. The People need feeling alone, +and feeling they possess. They take their station before the curtain +with an unvoiced longing, with a multifarious capacity. They bring +with them an aptitude for what is highest--they derive the greatest +pleasure from what is judicious and true; and if, with these powers of +appreciation, they deign to be satisfied with inferior productions, +still, if they have once tasted what is excellent, they will, in the +end, insist on having it supplied to them. + +It is sometimes objected that the Poet may labor according to an +Ideal--that the critic may judge from ideas, but that mere executive +art is subject to contingencies and depends for effect on the +occasion. Managers will be obstinate; actors are bent on display--the +audience is inattentive and unruly. Their object is relaxation, and +they are disappointed if mental exertion be required, when they +expected only amusement. But if the Theatre be made instrumental +toward higher objects, the pleasure of the spectator will not be +increased, but ennobled. It will be a diversion, but a poetical one. +All Art is dedicated to pleasure, and there can be no higher and +worthier end than to make men happy. The true Art is that which +provides the highest degree of pleasure; and this consists in the +abandonment of the spirit to the free play of all its faculties. +Every one expects from the imaginative arts a certain emancipation +from the bounds of reality: we are willing to give a scope to Fancy, +and recreate ourselves with the possible. The man who expects it the +least will nevertheless forget his ordinary pursuits, his every-day +existence and individuality, and experience delight from uncommon +incidents: if he be of a serious turn of mind, he will acknowledge on +the stage that moral government of the world which he fails to +discover in real life. But he is, at the same time, perfectly aware +that all is an empty show, and that, in a true sense, he is feeding +only on dreams. When he returns from the theatre to the world of +realities, he is again compressed within its narrow bounds; he is its +denizen as before--for it remains what it was, and in him nothing has +been changed. What, then, has he gained beyond a momentary illusive +pleasure which vanished with the occasion? + +It is because a passing recreation is alone desired that a mere show +of truth is thought sufficient. I mean that probability or +vraisemblance which is so highly esteemed, but which the commonest +workers are able to substitute for the true. + +Art has for its object not merely to afford a transient pleasure, to +excite to a momentary dream of liberty; its aim is to make us +absolutely free; and this it accomplishes by awakening, exercising, +and perfecting in us a power to remove to an objective distance the +sensible world (which otherwise only burdens us as rugged matter and +presses us down with a brute influence); to transform it into the free +working of our spirit, and thus acquire a dominion over the material +by means of ideas. For the very reason also that true Art requires +somewhat of the objective and real, it is not satisfied with a show of +truth. It rears its ideal edifice on Truth itself--on the solid and +deep foundations of Nature. + +But how Art can be at once altogether ideal, yet in the strictest +sense real; how it can entirely leave the actual, and yet harmonize +with Nature, is a problem to the multitude; hence the distorted views +which prevail in regard to poetical and plastic works for to ordinary +judgments these two requisites seem to counteract each other. + +It is commonly supposed that one may be attained by the sacrifice of +the other--the result is a failure to arrive at either. One to whom +Nature has given a true sensibility, but denied the plastic +imaginative power, will be a faithful painter of the real; he will +adapt casual appearances, but never catch the spirit of Nature. He +will only reproduce to us the matter of the world, which, not being +our own work, the product of our creative spirit, can never have the +beneficent operation of Art, of which the essence is freedom. Serious, +indeed, but unpleasing, is the cast of thought with which such an +artist and poet dismisses us; we feel ourselves painfully thrust back +into the narrow sphere of reality by means of the very art which ought +to have emancipated us. On the other hand, a writer, endowed with a +lively fancy, but destitute of warmth and individuality of feeling, +will not concern himself in the least about truth; he will sport with +the stuff of the world, and endeavor to surprise by whimsical +combinations; and as his whole performance is nothing but foam and +glitter, he will, it is true, engage the attention for a time, but +build up and confirm nothing in the understanding. His playfulness is, +like the gravity of the other, thoroughly unpoetical. To string +together at will fantastical images, is not to travel into the realm +of the ideal; and the imitative reproduction of the actual cannot be +called the representation of nature. Both requisites stand so little +in contradiction to each other that they are rather one and the same +thing; that Art is true only as it altogether forsakes the actual and +becomes purely ideal. Nature herself is an idea of the mind, and is +never presented to the senses. She lies under the veil of appearances, +but is herself never apparent. To the art of the ideal alone is lent, +or rather, absolutely given, the privilege to grasp the spirit of the +All and bind it in a corporeal form. + +Yet, in truth, even Art cannot present it to the senses, but by means +of her creative power to the imaginative faculty alone; and it is thus +that she becomes more true than all reality, and more real than all +experience. It follows from these premises that the artist can use no +single element taken from reality as he finds it--that his work must +be ideal in all its parts, if it be designed to have, as it were, an +intrinsic reality and to harmonize with nature. + +What is true of Art and Poetry, in the abstract, holds good as to +their various kinds; and we may apply what has been advanced to the +subject of tragedy. In this department, it is still necessary to +controvert the ordinary notion of the natural, with which poetry is +altogether incompatible. A certain ideality has been allowed in +painting, though, I fear, on grounds rather conventional than +intrinsic; but in dramatic works what is desired is illusion, which, +if it could be accomplished by means of the actual, would be, at best, +a paltry deception. All the externals of a theatrical representation +are opposed to this notion; all is merely a symbol of the real. The +day itself in a theatre is an artificial one; the metrical dialogue is +itself ideal; yet the conduct of the play must forsooth be real, and +the general effect sacrificed to a part. Thus the French, who have +utterly misconceived the spirit of the ancients, adopted on their +stage the unities of time and place in the most common and empirical +sense; as though there were any place but the bare ideal one, or any +other time than the mere sequence of the incidents. + +By the introduction of a metrical dialogue an important progress has +been made toward the poetical Tragedy. A few lyrical dramas have been +successful on the stage, and Poetry, by its own living energy, has +triumphed over prevailing prejudices. But so long as these erroneous +views are entertained little has been done--for it is not enough +barely to tolerate as a poetic license that which is, in truth, the +essence of all poetry. The introduction of the Chorus would be the +last and decisive step; and if it only served this end, namely, to +declare open and honorable warfare against naturalism in art, it would +be for us a living wall which Tragedy had drawn around herself, to +guard her from contact with the world of reality, and maintain her own +ideal soil, her poetical freedom. + +It is well known that the Greek tragedy had its origin in the Chorus; +and though, in process of time, it became independent, still it may be +said that poetically, and in spirit, the Chorus was the source of its +existence, and that without these persevering supporters and witnesses +of the incident a totally different order of poetry would have grown +out of the drama. The abolition of the Chorus, and the debasement of +this sensibly powerful organ into the characterless substitute of a +confidant, is, by no means, such an improvement in tragedy as the +French, and their imitators, would have it supposed to be. + +The old Tragedy, which at first only concerned itself with gods, +heroes and kings, introduced the Chorus as an essential accompaniment. +The poets found it in nature, and for that reason employed it. It grew +out of the poetical aspect of real life. In the new Tragedy it becomes +an organ of art which aids in making the poetry prominent. The modern +poet no longer finds the Chorus in nature; he must needs create and +introduce it poetically; that is, he must resolve on such an +adaptation of his story as will admit of its retrocession to those +primitive times and to that simple form of life. + +The Chorus thus renders more substantial service to the modern +dramatist than to the old poet--and for this reason, that it +transforms the commonplace actual world into the old poetical one; +that it enables him to dispense with all that is repugnant to poetry, +and conducts him back to the most simple, original, and genuine +motives of action. The palaces of kings are in these days +closed-courts of justice have been transferred from the gates of +cities to the interior of buildings; writing has narrowed the province +of speech; the people itself--the sensibly living mass--when it does +not operate as brute force, has become a part of the civil polity, and +thereby an abstract idea in our minds; the deities have returned +within the bosoms of mankind. The poet must reopen the palaces--he +must place courts of justice beneath the canopy of heaven--restore the +gods, reproduce every extreme which the artificial frame of actual +life has abolished--throw aside every factitious influence on the mind +or condition of man which impedes the manifestation of his inward +nature and primitive character, as the statuary rejects modern +costume, and of all external circumstances adopts nothing but what is +palpable in the highest of forms--that of humanity. But precisely as +the painter throws around his figures draperies of ample volume, to +fill up the space of his picture richly and gracefully, to arrange its +several parts in harmonious masses, to give due play to color, which +charms and refreshes the eye--and at once to envelop human forms in a +spiritual veil, and make them visible--so the tragic poet inlays and +entwines his rigidly contracted plot and the strong outlines of his +characters with a tissue of lyrical magnificence, in which, as in +flowing robes of purple, they move freely and nobly, with a sustained +dignity and exalted repose. + +In a higher organization, the material, or the elementary, need not be +visible; the chemical color vanishes in the finer tints of the +imaginative one. The material, however, has its peculiar effect, and +may be included in an artistical com position. But it must deserve its +place by animation, fulness and harmony, and give value to the ideal +forms which it surrounds, instead of stifling them by its weight. + +In respect of the pictorial art, this is obvious to ordinary +apprehension, yet in poetry likewise, and in the tragical kind, which +is our immediate subject, the same doctrine holds good. Whatever +fascinates the senses alone is mere matter and the rude element of a +work of art:--if it take the lead it will inevitably destroy the +poetical--which lies at the exact medium between the ideal and the +sensible. But man is so constituted that he is ever impatient to pass +from what is fanciful to what is common; and reflection must, +therefore, have its place even in tragedy. But to merit this place it +must, by means of delivery, recover what it wants in actual life; for +if the two elements of poetry, the ideal and the sensible, do not +operate with an inward mutuality, they must at least act as allies--or +poetry is out of the question. If the balance be not intrinsically +perfect, the equipoise can be maintained only by an agitation of both +scales. + +This is what the Chorus effects in tragedy. It is, in itself, not an +individual but a general conception; yet it is represented by a +palpable body which appeals to the senses with an imposing grandeur. +It forsakes the contracted sphere of the incidents to dilate itself +over the past and future, over distant times and nations and general +humanity, to deduce the grand results of life, and pronounce the +lessons of wisdom. But all this it does with the full power of +fancy--with a bold lyrical freedom which ascends, as with godlike +step, to the topmost height of worldly things; and it effects it in +conjunction with the whole sensible influence of melody and rhythm, in +tones and movements. + +The Chorus thus exercises a purifying influence on tragic poetry, +insomuch as it keeps reflection apart from the incidents, and by this +separation arms it with a poetical vigor; as the painter, by means of +a rich drapery, changes the ordinary poverty of costume into a charm +and an ornament. + +But as the painter finds himself obliged to strengthen the tone of +color of the living subject, in order to counter-balance the material +influences--so the--lyrical effusions of the Chorus impose upon the +poet the necessity of a proportionate elevation of his general +diction. It is the Chorus alone which entitles the poet to employ +this fulness of tone, which at once charms the senses, pervades the +spirit, and expands the mind. This one giant form on his canvas +obliges him to mount all his figures on the cothurnus, and thus impart +a tragical grandeur to his picture. If the Chorus be taken away, the +diction of the tragedy must generally be lowered, or what is now great +and majestic will appear forced and overstrained. The old Chorus +introduced into the French tragedy would present it in all its poverty +and reduce it to nothing; yet, without doubt, the same accomplishment +would impart to Shakespeare's tragedy its true significance. + +As the Chorus gives life to the language--so also it gives repose to +the action; but it is that beautiful and lofty repose which is the +characteristic of a true work of art. For the mind of the spectator +ought to maintain its freedom through the most impassioned scenes; it +should not be the mere prey of impressions, but calmly and severely +detach itself from the emotions which it suffers. The commonplace +objection made to the Chorus that it disturbs the illusion and blunts +the edge of the feelings, is what constitutes its highest +recommendation; for it is this blind force of the affections which the +true artist deprecates this illusion is what he disdains to excite. If +the strokes which Tragedy inflicts on our bosoms followed without +respite--the passion would overpower the action. We should mix +ourselves up with the subject-matter, and no longer stand above it. It +is by holding asunder the different parts, and stepping between the +passions with its composing views, that the Chorus restores to us our +freedom, which would else be lost in the tempest. The characters of +the drama need this intermission in order to collect themselves; for +they are no real beings who obey the impulse of the moment, and +merely represent individuals--but ideal persons and representatives of +their species, who enunciate the deep things of Humanity. + +Thus much on my attempt to revive the old Chorus on the tragic stage. +It is true that choruses are not unknown to modern tragedy; but the +Chorus of the Greek drama, as I have employed it--the Chorus, as a +single ideal person, furthering and accompanying the whole plot--is of +an entirely distinct character; and when, in discussion on the Greek +tragedy, I hear mention made of choruses, I generally suspect the +speaker's ignorance of his subject. In my view the Chorus has never +been reproduced since the decline of the old tragedy. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 63: Permission G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., London, and The +Macmillan Co., New York.] + + * * * * * + + + + +SCHILLER-GOETHE CORRESPONDENCE[64] + +TRANSLATED BY L. DORA SCHMITZ + + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, August 23, 1794. + +I yesterday received the welcome news that you had returned from your +journey. We may therefore hope to see you among us again soon, which +I, on my part, most heartily wish. My recent conversations with you +have put the whole store of my ideas in motion, for they related to a +subject which has actively engaged my thoughts for some years past. +Many things upon which I could not come to a right understanding with +myself have received new and unexpected light from the contemplation I +have had of your mind (for so I must call the general impression of +your ideas upon me). I needed the _object_, the body, for several of +my speculative ideas, and you have put me on the track of finding it. +Your calm and clear way of looking at things keeps you from getting on +the by-roads into which speculation as well as arbitrary +imagination--which merely follows its own bent--are so apt to lead one +astray. Your correct intuition grasps all things, and that far more +perfectly than what is laboriously sought for by analysis; and merely +because this lies within you as a whole, is the wealth of your mind +concealed from yourself. For, alas! we know only that which we can +take to pieces. Minds like yours, therefore, seldom know how far they +have penetrated and how little cause they have to borrow from +philosophy, which, in fact, can learn only from them. Philosophy can +merely dissect what is given it, but the giving itself is not the work +of the analyzer but of genius, which combines things according to +objective laws under the obscure but safe influence of pure reason. + +[Illustration: MONUMENT TO GOETHE AND SCHILLER IN WEIMAR] + +Although I have done so at a distance, I have long watched the course +which your mind has pursued, and have observed, with ever renewed +admiration, the path which you have marked out for yourself. You seek +for the necessary in nature, but you seek it by the most difficult +route--one which all weaker minds would take care to avoid. You look +at Nature as a whole, when seeking to get light thrown upon her +individual parts; you look for the explanation of the individual in +the totality of her various manifestations. From the simple organism +you ascend step by step to those that are more complex, in order, in +the end, genetically to form the most complicate of all--man--out of +the materials of nature as a whole. By thus, as it were, imitating +nature in creating him, you try to penetrate into his hidden +structure. This is a great and truly heroic idea, which sufficiently +shows how your mind keeps the whole wealth of its conceptions in one +beautiful unity. You can never have expected that your life would +suffice to attain such an end, but to have struck out such a path is +worth more than reaching the end of any other; and you, like Achilles +in the Iliad, made your choice between Phthia and immortality. Had you +been born a Greek, or even an Italian, and had you from infancy been +placed in the midst of choice natural surroundings and of an +idealizing Art, your path would have been infinitely shortened, +perhaps even have been rendered entirely superfluous. Had such been +the case, you would, on your first perception of things, have taken up +the form of the Necessary, and the grand style would have been +developed in you with your first experience. But being born a German, +and your Grecian spirit having been cast in this Northern mold, you +had no other choice but either to become a Northern artist; or, by the +help of the power of thought, to supply your imagination with what +reality withheld from it, and thus, as it were, to produce a Greek +from within by a reasoning process. At that period of life when the +soul, surrounded by defective forms, constructs its own inward nature +out of outward circumstances, you had already assumed a wild Northern +nature, and your victorious genius, rising above its materials, then +discovered this want from within, and became convinced of it from +without through its acquaintance with Greek nature. You had then, in +accordance with the better model which your developing mind created +for itself, to correct your old and less perfect nature, and this +could be effected only by following leading ideas. However, this +_logical_ direction which a reflecting mind is forced to pursue, is +not very compatible with the _esthetic_ state of mind by which alone a +reflecting mind becomes creative. You, therefore, had one task more: +for inasmuch as your mind had passed over from intuition to +abstraction, so you had now to go back and retranslate ideas into +intuitions, and to change thoughts into feelings; for it is only +through the latter that genius can be productive. + +It is somewhat in this manner that I imagine the course pursued by +your mind, and whether I am right or not you will yourself know best. +However, what you yourself can scarcely be aware of (as genius ever +remains the greatest mystery to itself) is the beautiful harmony +between your philosophical instinct and the purest results of your +speculative reason. Upon a first view it does indeed seem as if there +could not be any greater opposites than the speculative mind which +proceeds from unity, and the intuitive mind which proceeds from +variety. If, however, the former seeks experience with a pure and +truthful spirit, and the latter seeks law with self-active and free +power of thought, then the two cannot fail to meet each other half +way. It is true that the intuitive mind has only to deal with +individuals, the speculative mind only with species. But if the +intuitive mind is that of a genius and seeks the nature of the +Necessary in experience, then individuals will be produced, it is +true, but they will possess the character of the species; and again, +if the speculative mind is that of a genius, and does not lose sight +of experience when rising above it, then it will indeed produce +species only, but with the possibility of individual life and with a +well-founded relation to actual objects. + +But I find that in place of sending you a letter I am writing an +essay--pray excuse this, and ascribe it to the lively interest with +which the subject has filled me; and should you not recognize your +own image in this mirror, do not on that account flee from it, I pray. +* * * + +Diderot's work[65], especially the first part, is very interesting, +and, considering the subject, is handled with edifying delicacy. I beg +to be permitted to keep this book for a few days longer. + +It would, I think, be well if we could now soon start the new +periodical, and you would perhaps be kind enough to let the first +number be opened with something of yours. I, therefore, take the +liberty of asking you whether you would be willing to let your +novel[66] appear in our journal in successive numbers? But whether you +determine to let us have it or not, I should consider it a very great +favor to be allowed to read it. + +My friends and my wife commend themselves to your kind remembrance. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Ettersburg, August 27, 1794. + +On the anniversary of my birthday, which took place this week, I could +not have received a more acceptable gift than the letter in which you +give the sum of my existence in so friendly a manner, and in which, by +your sympathy, you encourage me to a more assiduous and active use of +my powers. + +Pure enjoyment and true usefulness can only be reciprocal, and it will +be a pleasure to me to unfold to you at leisure what your conversation +has been to me; how I, too, regard those days as an epoch in my life, +and how contented I feel in having gone on my way without any +particular encouragement; for it seems to me that, after so unexpected +a meeting, we cannot but wander on in life together. I have always +prized the frank and rare earnestness which is displayed in all that +you have written and done, and I may now claim to be made acquainted +by yourself with the course taken by your own mind, more especially +during these latter years. If we make it clear to each other to which +point we have thus far attained, the better able we shall be to work +on together without interruption. + +All that relates to myself I will gladly communicate to you; for, +being fully conscious that my undertaking far exceeds the measure of +human capabilities and their earthly duration, I should like to +deposit many things with you, and thereby not only preserve them but +give them life. + +Of what great advantage your sympathy will be to me you will yourself +soon perceive, when, upon a closer acquaintance, you discover in me a +kind of obscurity and hesitation which I cannot entirely master, +although distinctly aware of their existence. Such phenomena, however, +are often found in our natures, and we quietly submit to them as long +as they do not become too tyrannical. + +I hope to be able to spend some time with you soon, when we shall talk +over many things. + +Unfortunately, a few weeks before receiving your proposal, I had given +my novel to Unger,[67] and the first proof sheets have already come to +hand. I have more than once thought, during these last days, that it +would have been very suitable for your periodical. It is the only +thing I have by me of any size, and is a kind of problematical work +such as the good Germans like. + +I will send the first Book as soon as I get all the proof sheets. It +is so long since it was written that, in the actual sense of the word, +I may be said to be only the editor. + +[Illustration: + + The highest aim he reached + on soaring pinion + Closely allied to all we value most + Thus honor him! What life but + scantily + To Genius yields, in full shall + give Posterity. + +Goethe on Schiller.] + +If, among my projects, there were anything that would serve the +purpose you mention, we should, I think, easily agree as to the most +appropriate form to put it in, and there should be no delay in my +working it out. Farewell, and remember me to your circle. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, August 31, 1794. + +On my return from Weissenfels, where I met my friend Koerner from +Dresden, I received your last letter but one, the contents of which +pleased me for two reasons; for I perceive from it that the view I +took of your mind coincides with your own feelings, and that you were +not displeased with the candor with which I allowed my heart to +express itself. Our acquaintance, although it comes late, awakens in +me many a delightful hope, and is to me another proof of how much +better it often is to let chance have its way than to forestall it +with too much officiousness. Great as my desire always was to become +more closely acquainted with you than is possible between the spirit +of a writer and his most attentive reader, I now clearly see that the +very different paths upon which you and I have moved could not, with +any advantage to ourselves, have brought us together sooner than at +the present time. I now hope, however, that we may travel over the +rest of our life's way together, and, moreover, do this with more than +usual advantage to each other, inasmuch as the last travelers who join +company on a long journey have always the most to say to each other. + +Do not expect to find any great store of ideas in me; this is what I +shall find in you. My need and endeavor are to make much out of +little, and, when you once come to know my poverty in all so-called +acquired knowledge, you will perhaps find that I have sometimes +succeeded in doing this; for, the circle of my ideas being small, I +can the more rapidly and the more frequently run through it; for that +very reason I can use my small resources with more effect, and can, by +means of form, produce that variety which is wanting in the +subject-matter. You strive to simplify your great world of ideas; I +seek variety for my small means. You have to govern a whole realm, I +but a somewhat numerous family of ideas, which I would be heartily +glad to be able to extend into a little world. + +Your mind works intuitively to an extraordinary degree, and all your +thinking powers appear, as it were, to have come to an agreement with +your imagination to be their common representative. In reality, this +is the most that a man can make of himself if only he succeeds in +generalizing his perceptions and making his feelings his supreme law. +This is what you have endeavored to do, and what in a great measure +you have already attained. My understanding works more in a +symbolizing method, and thus I hover, as a hybrid, between ideas and +intentions, between law and feeling, between a technical mind and +genius. This it is that, particularly in my earlier years, gave me a +rather awkward appearance both in the field of speculation and in that +of poetry; for the poetic mind generally got the better of me when I +ought to have philosophized, and my philosophical mind when I wished +to poetize. Even now it frequently enough happens that imagination +intrudes upon my abstractions, and cold reason upon my poetical +productions. If I could obtain such mastery over these two powers as +to assign to each its limits, I might yet look forward to a happy +fate; but, alas! just when I have begun to know and to use my moral +powers rightly, illness seizes me and threatens to undermine my +physical powers. I can scarcely hope to have time to complete any +great and general mental revolution in myself; but I will do what I +can, and when, at last, the building falls, I shall, perhaps, after +all, have snatched from the ruins what was most worthy of being +preserved. + +You expressed a wish that I should speak of myself, and I have made +use of the permission. I make these confessions to you in +confidence, and venture to hope that you will receive them in a kindly +spirit. + +I shall today refrain from entering into details about your essay, +which will at once lead our conversations on this subject upon the +most fertile track. My own researches--entered upon by a different +path--have led me to a result rather similar to that at which you have +arrived, and in the accompanying papers you will perhaps find ideas +which coincide with your own. I wrote them about a year and a half +ago, for which reason, as well as on account of the occasion for which +they were penned (they were intended for an indulgent friend), there +is some excuse for their crudeness of form. These ideas have, indeed, +since then, received in me a better foundation and greater precision, +and this may possibly bring them much nearer to yours. + +I cannot sufficiently regret that _Wilhelm Meister_ is lost to our +periodical. However, I hope that your fertile mind and friendly +interest in our undertaking will give us some compensation for this +loss, whereby the admirers of your genius will be double gainers. In +the number of the _Thalia_ which I herewith send you, you will find +some ideas of Koerner's on Declamation, which, I think, will please +you. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, January 7, 1795. + +Accept my best thanks for the copy of the novel you have sent me. The +feeling which penetrates and takes hold of me with increasing force +the further I read on in this work, I cannot better express in words +than by calling it a delicious, inward sense of comfort, a feeling of +mental and bodily well-being, and I will vouch that this will be the +effect produced upon all readers. + +This sense of comfort I account for from the calm clearness, +smoothness, and transparency which pervade the whole of your work, and +which leave nothing to disturb or to dissatisfy the mind, and the mind +is not more excited than is necessary to fan and maintain a joyous +life. Of the individual parts I shall say nothing till I have seen the +Third Book, which I am looking forward to with longing. + +I cannot express to you what a painful feeling it often is to me to +pass from a work of this kind into one of a philosophical character. +In the former all is so joyous, so alive, so harmoniously evolved, and +so true to human life; in the latter all is so stern, so rigid, +abstract, and so extremely unnatural; for all nature is synthesis, and +philosophy but antithesis. I can, in fact, give proof of having been +as true to nature in my speculations as is compatible with the idea of +analysis; indeed, I have perhaps been more faithful to her than our +Kantians would consider permissible or possible. But still I am no +less fully conscious of the infinite difference between Life and +Reasoning, and cannot, in such melancholy moments, help perceiving a +want in my own nature which in happier hours I am forced to think of +only as a natural duality of the thing itself. This much, however, is +certain--the poet is the only true man, and the best philosopher is +but a caricature in comparison with him. + +I need scarcely assure you that I am in the utmost anxiety to know +what you have to say to my philosophy of the Beautiful. As the +Beautiful itself is derived from man as a whole, so my analysis of it +is drawn from _my_ own whole being, and I cannot but be deeply +interested in knowing how this accords with yours. + +Your presence here will be a source of nourishment both to my mind and +my heart. Especially great is my longing to enjoy some poetical works +in common with you. + +[Illustration: Schiller on Goethe] + +You promised to let me hear some of your epigrams when an opportunity +occurred. It would be a great and additional pleasure to me if this +could be done during your approaching visit to Jena, as it is still +very uncertain when I may be able to get to W. + +Just as I am about to close comes the welcome continuation of your +_Meister_. A thousand thanks for it! + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Weimar, November 21, 1795. + +Today I received twenty-one of Propertius' elegies from Knebel and +shall look them over carefully and then let the translator know where +I find anything to object to; for, as he has given himself so much +trouble, nothing ought, perhaps, to be altered without his sanction. + +I wish you could induce Cotta to pay for this manuscript at once; it +could easily be calculated how many sheets it would print. I have, it +is true, no actual occasion to ask this, but it would look much +better, would encourage energetic cooeperation, and also help in making +the good name of the _Horen_ better known. A publisher has often +enough to pay money in advance, so Cotta might surely once in a way +pay upon the receipt of a manuscript. Knebel wants the Elegies to be +divided into three contributions; I, too, think this the right +proportion, and we should thus have the first three numbers of next +year's _Horen_ nicely adorned. I will see to it that you get them in +proper time. + +Have you seen Stolberg's abominable preface to his Platonic +discourses? The disclosures he there makes are so insipid and +intolerable that I feel very much inclined to step out and chastise +him. It would be a very simple matter to hold up to view the senseless +unreasonableness of this stupid set of people, if, in so doing, one +had but a rational public on one's side; this would at the same time +be a declaration of war against that superficiality which it has now +become necessary to combat in every department of learning. The secret +feuds of suppressing, misplacing, and misprinting, which it has +carried on against us, have long deserved that this declaration should +be held in honorable remembrance, and that continuously. + +I find this doubly necessary and unavoidable in the case of my +scientific works, which I am gradually getting into order. I intend to +speak out my mind pretty frankly against reviewers, journalists, +collectors of magazines, and writers of abridgments, and, in a prelude +or prolog, openly to declare myself against the public; in this +instance, especially, I do not intend to allow any one's opposition or +reticence to pass. + +What do you say, for instance, to Lichtenberg, with whom I have had +some correspondence about the optical subjects we spoke of, and with +whom, besides, I am on pretty good terms, not even mentioning my +essays in his new edition of Erxleben's Compendium, especially as a +new edition of a compendium is surely issued in order to introduce the +latest discoveries, and these gentlemen are usually quick enough in +noting down everything in their interleaved books! How many different +ways there are of dispatching a work like this, even though it were +but done in a passing manner I However, at the present moment, my +cunning brains cannot think of any one of these ways. + +I am, at present, very far from being in anything like an esthetic or +sentimental mood, so what is to become of my poor novel? Meanwhile, I +am making use of my time as best I can, and my comfort is that, at so +low an ebb, one may hope that the flood is about to return. + +Your dear letter reached me safely, and I thank you for your sympathy, +which I felt sure you would give me. In such cases one hardly knows +what is best to do--to let grief take its natural course or to fortify +oneself with the assistance which culture gives us. If one determines +to follow the latter course--as I always do--one feels better merely +for the moment, and. I have noticed that Nature always reasserts her +rights in other ways. + +The Sixth Book of my novel has made a good impression here also; to be +sure, the poor reader never knows what he is about with works of this +kind, for he does not consider that he would probably never take them +up had not the author contrived to get the better of his thinking +powers, his feelings, and his curiosity. + +Your testimony in favor of my tale I prize very highly, and I shall +henceforth work with more confidence at this species of composition. + +The last volume of my novel cannot in any case appear before +Michaelmas; it would be well if we could arrange the plans we lately +discussed in reference to this. + +My new story can, I think, hardly be ready by December, and, +moreover, I can scarcely venture to pass on to it till I have, in some +way or other, written something in explanation of the first. If, by +December, I could write something of this kind neatly, I should be +very glad of thus being able to give you a contribution for next +year's opening number. Farewell. May we long enjoy having around us +those who are nearest and dearest to us. Toward New Year's I hope +again to spend some time with you. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER to GOETHE + +Jena, July 2, 1796. + +I have now run through all the eight Books of your novel, very +hurriedly, it is true, but the subject-matter alone is so large that I +could scarcely get through it in two days' reading. Properly speaking, +therefore, I ought not to say anything about it even today, for the +surprising and unparalleled variety which is therein _concealed_--in +the strictest sense of the word--is overpowering. I confess that what +I have as yet grasped correctly is but the _continuity_, not the +_unity_, although I do not for a moment doubt that I shall become +perfectly clear on this point also, if, as I think, in works of this +kind, the continuity is more than half the unity. + +As, under the circumstances, you cannot exactly expect to receive from +me anything thoroughly satisfactory and yet wish to hear something, +you must be content with a few remarks; these, however, are not +altogether without value, inasmuch as they will tell of direct +impressions. To make up for this, I promise you that our discussions +about your novel shall continue throughout the month. To give an +adequate and truly esthetic estimate of a whole work, as a work of +art, is a serious undertaking. I shall devote the whole of the next +four months to it, and that with pleasure. Besides this, it is one of +the greatest blessings of my existence that I have lived to see this +work of yours completed, that it has been written while my faculties +are still in a state of growth, and that I may draw inspiration from +this pure source; further, the beautiful relation that exists between +us makes it seem to me a kind of religious duty to call your cause my +own, and to develop all that is real in my nature so fully that my +mind may become the clearest mirror of what exists beneath this +covering, and that I may deserve the name of being your friend in the +higher sense of the word. How vividly have I felt, at this time, that +excellence is a power, that it can influence selfish natures only as a +power, and that, as contrasted with excellence, there is no freedom +but love! + +I cannot say how much I have been moved by the truth, the beautiful +vitality, and the simple fulness of your work. My agitation, it is +true, is greater than it will be when I have completely mastered your +subject, and that will be an important crisis in my intellectual life; +but yet this agitation is the effect of the Beautiful and only of the +Beautiful, and is merely the result of my reason not having yet been +able to master my feelings. I now quite understand what you meant by +saying that it was the Beautiful, the True, that could often move you +to tears. Calm and deep, clear and yet incomprehensible, like nature, +your work makes its influence felt; it stands there, and even the +smallest secondary incident shows the beautiful equanimity from which +all has emanated. + +[Illustration: SCHILLER RECITING FROM HIS WORKS TO HIS WEIMAR FRIENDS] + +But I cannot, as yet, find words to describe these impressions, and, +moreover, I must today confine myself to the Eighth Book. How well you +have succeeded in bringing the large and widely extended circle, the +different attitudes and scenes of the events, so closely together +again! Your work may be compared to a beautiful planetary system; +everything belongs together, and it is only the Italian figures which, +like comets and as weirdly as they, connect the system with one that +is more remote and larger. Further, these figures, as also Marianna +and Aurelia, run wholly out of this system again, and, after having +merely served to produce a poetical movement in it, separate +themselves from it as foreign individuals. How beautifully conceived +it is to derive what is practically monstrous and terribly pathetic in +the fate of Mignon and the Harpist from what is theoretically +monstrous, from the abortions of the understanding, so that nothing is +thereby laid to the charge of pure and healthy nature! Senseless +superstition alone gives birth to such monstrous fates as pursue +Mignon and the Harpist. Even Aurelia's ruin is but the result of her +own unnaturalness, her masculine nature. Toward Marianna alone could I +accuse you of poetic selfishness. I could almost say she has been made +a sacrifice to the novel, as the nature of the case would not permit +of her being saved. Her fate, therefore, will ever draw forth bitter +tears, while in the case of the three others the reader will gladly +turn from what is individual to the idea of the whole. + +Wilhelm's false relationship to Theresa is admirably conceived, +motivated, and worked out, and still more admirably turned to account. +Many a reader will at first be actually alarmed at it, for I can +promise Theresa but few wellwishers; all the more beautiful is the way +in which the reader is rescued from this state of uneasiness. I cannot +imagine how this false relation could have been dissolved more +tenderly, more delicately, or more nobly. How pleased Richardson and +all his set would have been had you made a scene out of it and been +highly indelicate in the display of delicate sentiments! I have but +one little objection to raise: Theresa's courageous and determined +resistance to the person who wishes to rob her of her lover, even +although the possibility is thereby reopened to her of possessing +Lothar, is quite in accordance with nature, and is excellent; further, +I think there are good reasons for Wilhelm's showing deep indignation +and a certain amount of pain at the banterings of his fellowmen and of +fate--but it seems to me that he ought to complain less deeply of the +loss of a happiness which had already ceased to be anything of the +kind to him. In Natalie's presence, as it seems to me, his regained +freedom ought to be to him a greater happiness than he allows it to +be. I am quite aware of the complication of this state of things and +what is demanded by _delicatesse_, but, on the other hand, Natalie may +in some measure be said to be hurt by this same _delicatesse_ when, in +her presence, Wilhelm is allowed to lament over the loss of Theresa. + +One other thing I specially admire in the concatenation of the events +is the great good which you have contrived to draw from Wilhelm's +already-mentioned false relation to Theresa so as most speedily to +bring about the true and desired end, the union of Natalie and +Wilhelm. In no other manner could this end have been arrived at so +well and so naturally as by the path you have pursued, although this +very path threatened to lead from it. It can now be maintained, with +the most perfect innocence and purity, that Wilhelm and Natalie belong +to each other; and Theresa's letters to Natalie lead up to this +beautifully. Such contrivances are of the greatest beauty, for they +unite all that could be desired, nay, all that appeared wholly +ununitable; they complicate, and yet carry the solution in themselves; +they produce restlessness, and yet lead to repose; they succeed in +reaching the goal, while appearing to be making every effort to keep +from it. + +Mignon's death, although we are prepared for it, affects one +powerfully and deeply--so deeply, in fact, that many will think you +quit the subject too abruptly. This, upon first reading it, was a very +decided feeling in my own case; but, on reading it a second time, when +surprise had subsided, I felt it less, and yet I fear that you may +have, in this, gone a hair's breadth too far. Mignon, before her end, +had begun to appear more womanly and softer, and thus to have become +more interesting in herself; the repulsive heterogeneity of her nature +had relaxed, and with this relaxation some of her impetuosity had +likewise disappeared. Her last song, especially, melts one's heart to +the most intense sympathy. Hence it strikes one as odd that, directly +upon the affecting scene of her death, the doctor should make an +experiment upon her corpse, and that this living being should so soon +be able to forget the person, merely in order to regard her as the +instrument of a scientific inquiry. It strikes one as being equally +strange that Wilhelm--who, after all, is the cause of her death, and +is aware of it--should at that moment notice the instrument-case and +be lost in the recollection of past scenes, when the present should +have so wholly absorbed him. + +You may, in this case also, justify yourself as having been quite true +to nature, but I doubt whether you will be able to do this as regards +the "sentimental" demands of your readers; and therefore--in order +that nothing should interfere with the reader's acceptance of a scene +which is so splendidly motivated and so well worked out--I would +advise you to pay some attention to it. + +Otherwise, I find everything you do with Mignon, when living as well +as when dead, most uncommonly beautiful. This pure and poetic creature +is specially and excellently qualified to have so poetical a funeral. +In her isolated condition, her mysterious existence, her purity and +innocence, she is so truly a representative of the period of life in +which she stands that she moves one to a feeling of unmixed sadness +and genuine human sorrow, for nothing but pure humanity was manifested +in her. That which, in every other individual, would be inconsistent, +nay, in a certain sense, revolting, is, in her, sublime and noble. + +I should have liked to see the appearance of the Marquis in the family +motivated by something more than his mere dilettanteism in art. He is +too indispensable to the development, and the _need_ of his +interference might easily have been made more conspicuous than the +inner necessity. You have yourself spoilt the reader by the +arrangement of the rest of your work, and have justified him in making +greater demands than can generally be required of novel writers. Could +not the Marquis be made an old acquaintance of Lothar or of the Uncle, +and his journey hither be more interwoven with the whole? + +The end, as well as the whole history of the Harpist, excites the +greatest interest. I have already said how excellent I find your +thought of deriving the terrible destinies of the Harpist and of +Mignon from religious extravagance. The priest's notion of describing +a small transgression as monstrous, in order that a great crime--which +he will not mention for humanity's sake--may be atoned for by it, is +sublime of its kind and a worthy representative of this whole mode of +thinking. You might perhaps make Sperate's story a little shorter +still, as it comes in at the end where one is prone to hurry +impatiently to the goal. + +That the Harpist should prove to be Mignon's father, and that you +yourself do not mention it or thrust it at the reader, makes the +effect all the greater. One is forced to reflect upon the fact +oneself, to recall to mind how close in life was the relation which +existed between these two mysterious natures, and to look down into an +unfathomable depth of fate. But no more for today. My wife wishes to +inclose a little note to tell you her impressions of your Eighth Book. + +Farewell, my beloved, my esteemed friend! I am deeply moved when I +think that that which we otherwise look for and rarely find in the far +distance of favored antiquity lies so close to me in you. You need no +longer be astonished that there are so few who are capable or worthy +of understanding you. The wonderful naturalness, truth, and fluency of +your description hide from the common herd of critics every thought of +the difficulty, of the grandness of your art, and those who are +capable of following the artist, who perceive the means by which the +effects have been produced, will feel themselves so averse, so hostile +toward the genial power which they there see in action, and find their +needy selves in such straits, that they will angrily thrust the work +from them, while in their hearts--though with _de mauvaise +grace_--they are certain to be your liveliest worshippers. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER Weimar, July 5, 1796. + +As soon as I received your first letter I at once sat down to write to +you; but verily your two following letters have come to me, in the +midst of my truly worldly occupations, like two voices from another +world to which I can do naught but listen. Pray continue to refresh +and to encourage me! Your suggestions will enable me to finish the +Eighth Book as soon as I am able again to take it in hand. I already +possess the means to satisfy nearly every one of your suggestions, by +which, moreover, even to my mind, the whole work becomes more +connected at the points in question, and both truer and more pleasing. +Do not become weary of telling me your opinion frankly, and keep the +book a week longer. What you require of _Cellini_ I shall meanwhile +push forward; I shall also give you a sketch of what I still think of +doing to my Eighth Book, and hence the last transcript shall be out of +our hands by the beginning of August. + +Your letters are now my sole recreation, and you must know how +grateful I am to you for having so unexpectedly set my mind at ease +about so many points. Farewell, and give my kind greetings to your +dear wife. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +March 18, 1799. + +I congratulate you with all my heart upon having finished your work; +it has given me particular satisfaction, although I have, so to say, +but tasted the outside of it, and that on a most disturbed morning. +For stage purposes it is quite sufficiently developed; the new +motives, which I did not know of, are very good and to the point. + +If, at some future time, you could cut off a little from _The +Piccolomini_, both pieces would be a priceless gift to the German +stage, and they would have to be given throughout many a long year. + +The last piece has, it is true, this great merit, that everything +ceases to be political and becomes of purely human interest; nay, the +historical element itself is but a light veil through which we have +the purely human element shining forth. The effect upon the mind is +neither interfered with nor disturbed. + +I would certainly close with the monologue by the Princess, for it is, +in any case, left to the imagination as to what becomes of her. It +might perhaps be well, eventually, to have the Equerry introduced in +the first piece. + +The close of the whole with the address of the letter is, in reality, +frightening, especially considering the tender state of one's feelings +at the moment. It is doubtless an exceptional case to conclude with +what is terrible after having exhausted all that was capable of +rousing fear and pity. + +I shall not add more, and can but say that I am delighted at the +prospect of enjoying this work with you. I hope still to be able to +start on Thursday. You shall know for certain on Wednesday; we will +then read the play together, and I intend then to enjoy it in a +thoroughly composed state of mind. + +Farewell; take a rest now and let us both begin a new life during the +vacation. My kind greetings to your dear wife, and think of me. + +I do not intend, just yet, to boast of the work extorted from the +Muses; it is still a great question whether it is worth anything; in +any case, however, it may be regarded as preparatory. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Jena, March 19, 1799. + +I have for long dreaded the moment when I should be rid of my work, +much as I wished for the time to come; and, in fact, I do feel my +present freedom to be worse than the state of bondage I have hitherto +been in. The mass which has formerly drawn and held me to it has now +gone, and I feel as if I were hanging indefinitely in empty space. At +the same time I feel also as if it were absolutely impossible for me +ever to produce anything again; I shall not be at rest till I once +more have my thoughts turned to some definite subject, with hope and +inclination in view. When I again have some definite object before me, +I shall be rid of the feeling of restlessness which at present is also +drawing me off from smaller things I have in hand. When you come I +mean to lay before you some tragic materials of my own invention, in +order that I may not, in the first instance, make a mistake as regards +subject. Inclination and necessity draw me toward subjects of pure +fancy, not to historical ones, and toward such in which the interest +is of a purely sentimental and human character; for of soldiers, +heroes, and commanders, I am now heartily tired. + +How I envy you your present activity--your latest! You are standing on +the purest and sublimest poetic ground, in the most beautiful world of +definite figures where everything is ready-made or can be re-made. You +are, so to say, living in the home of poetry and being waited upon by +the gods. During these last days I have again been looking into +Homer, and there have read of the visit of Thetis to Vulcan with +immense pleasure. There is, in the graceful description of a domestic +visit such as we might receive any day, and in an account of any kind +of handicraft, an infinity of material and form, and the Naive shows +the full nature of the Divine. + +Your hope of being able to finish the _Achilleid_ by August, or, at +least, your believing it to be possible to do so, is to me +inconceivable, notwithstanding all the proofs I have myself had of the +rapidity with which you get through things, especially as you do not +even reckon upon having April for work. I sincerely regret that you +will lose this month; perhaps, however, you will be able to preserve +your epic mood; if so, be sure not to allow theatrical cares to +disturb you. I will gladly relieve you of whatever trouble I can in +connection with _Wallenstein_. + +A few days ago Imhof sent me the last two cantos of her poem, which +have given me very great pleasure. The development is extremely +refined and pure, and is accomplished by simple means and unusual +elegance. When you come we will talk it over together. + +I herewith return _The Piccolomini_, and beg you to let me have +_Wallenstein's Camp_, which I wish likewise to have copied out, and +shall then, at last, be able to send the three plays to Koerner. + +The box of groats has been called for and delivered up in your name to +a Herr Meyer. You have, no doubt, already received it. Farewell. My +wife sends kindest greetings. Tomorrow I hope to hear that we may +expect you on Thursday. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Weimar, July 30, 1800. The cheerful tone of your letter proves to me +that things are going well with you in Jena, and I congratulate you +that such is the case. I cannot boast the same of myself; the state of +the barometer, which is so favorable to you, brings on my spasms, and +I do not sleep well. Owing to this state of things, it was very +welcome news to me to hear from Koerner that he could not undertake the +journey. I shall, therefore, not go to Lauchstedt, and shall thus have +an unexpected gain in time and also in money; for, much as I should +have liked to see him again, it would just at present have been a +little inconvenient to me. + +I congratulate you upon the progress you have made in your work. The +liberty which you appear to be taking with the French original, I look +upon as a good sign of the productive state of your mind, and also +augur from this that the work will bring us a step further forward +than _Mahomet_ did. I am looking forward eagerly to seeing your work +and to our discussions upon it. + +If you carry out your idea respecting the choruses, we shall be making +an important experiment on the stage. My piece, too, will, I hope, be +so far advanced by the time you return that I may lay the finished +sketch of it before you, in order to assure myself that you approve of +it before I set about working it out. During the last few days I have +likewise been engaged with the conclusion of my collection of poems. +The stanzas on _Mahomet I_ have also had printed in it. If you are +curious to see them, Goepferdt could send you sheets R and S as soon +as they have been printed off. + +Kirms sent me a very welcome today, for which I send you my best +thanks. + +My wife sends kindest greetings. May you farewell and enjoy the gay +variety of entertainments by which you are surrounded in Jena. Mellish +passed through here yesterday, and has again taken up his abode in +Doernburg. I hear a great deal about the merry life they are leading +in Wilhelmsthal, where the proceedings are evidently very Utopian. My +sister-in-law met with a serious accident in the carriage, which broke +in two; however, she herself was not hurt. Farewell. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Jena, August I, 1800. + +_Tancred_ I laid aside yesterday morning. I have translated--and here +and there a little more than this--the close of the second act and the +third and fourth acts, with the exception of the close of the two +latter. By this means, as I think, I have secured the worthier parts +of the piece, to which I shall now have to add something of my own +that is life-giving, so that the beginning and the end may become +somewhat fuller than the original. The choruses will be very +appropriate; however, I shall nevertheless have to act very cautiously +so as not to injure the whole. Still, once being upon the path we have +entered, I shall never regret working out and accomplishing this task. + +Yesterday I attended to some business matters, and today solved a +small difficulty in _Faust_; if I could remain here another fortnight +it should assume quite a different appearance. However, I have +unfortunately taken it into my head that my presence is required in +Weimar, and I am going to sacrifice my dearest wish to this fancy. + +In other ways, also, these last few days have not been unfruitful in +many good things. We have long pondered over a _Bride in Sorrow_. +Tieck, in his poetic journal, reminds me of an old marionette play +called the _Hoellenbraul_, which I too remember to have seen in my +young days. It is a pendent to _Faust_, or, rather, to _Don Juan_. An +extremely vain and heartless girl, who has ruined her faithful lover, +consents to accept an unknown stranger as her betrothed, and he, in +the end, as a devil, carries her off with him--as she deserves. Ought +we not to be able to find the idea for a bride in sorrow here--at +least in this direction? + +I have been reading a treatise of Baader's on the Pythagorean square +in nature, or the four quarters of the globe. Whether it be that I +have for some years past interested myself more in this species of +writing, or that he has contrived to make his intentions clearer, the +little work has pleased me and has served me as an introduction to his +earlier writings; however, my faculties are still unable to comprehend +all of the latter. + +A student here, who is engaged with the anatomy of insects, dissected +some very neatly and explained them to me, and I have thus made +progress in this branch also, partly in knowledge of the subject +itself, partly also in the treatment of it. + +If a young man like this could have some definite object given him to +work at, if only for four months, many very pleasant things might be +the result. However, if I can come over here again before the time +when certain cater-pillars change into chrysalies, I shall assuredly +try to make use of his ability and dexterity. One might, indeed, +easily do such things oneself, were it not that they would at once +lead one over into an entirely different sphere. On Monday I shall +be with you again, and shall have a number of things to bring with me +and to relate. + +Farewell meanwhile, and hold me in remembrance. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Ober-Rossla, April 6, 1801. + +I wish you all happiness upon your return to Weimar, and hope soon to +see you again, either by your coming to pay me a visit or by my again +repairing to town. + +My stay here suits me very well, partly because I move about in the +open air all day, partly because I am drawn down to the common objects +of life, and thus there comes over me a certain feeling of nonchalance +and indifference such as I have not known for a long time. + +With regard to the questions contained in your last letter, I not only +agree with your opinion, but go even further. I think that everything +that is done by genius as genius, is done unconsciously. A person of +genius can also act rationally, with reflection, from conviction, but +this is all done, as it were, indirectly. No work of genius can be +improved or be freed from its faults by reflection and its immediate +results, but genius can, by means of reflection and action, be +gradually raised to a degree that in the end shall produce exemplary +works. The more genius a century possesses, the more are individual +things advanced. + +With regard to the great demands now made of the poet, I too am of +the opinion that these will not readily call forth a poet. The art of +poetry requires of the person who is to exercise it a certain +good-natured kind of narrowness enamored of what is Real, behind which +lies concealed what is Absolute. Demands made by criticism destroy the +innocent, productive state, and give us as genuine poetry--in place of +poetry--something that is in fact no poetry at all, as unfortunately +we have seen in our own day; and the same is the case with the kindred +arts--nay, with Art in its widest sense. + +This is my confession of faith, which otherwise does not make any +further claims. + +[Illustration: THE GOETHE AND SCHILLER ARCHIVES IN WEIMAR] + +I expect much good from your latest work. It is well conceived, and, +if you devote sufficient time to it, will round itself off of its own +accord. _Faust_ also has meanwhile had something done to it. I hope +that soon the only thing wanting in the great gap will be the +disputation; this, it is true, will have to be looked upon as a +distinct piece of work, and one which will not be accomplished at a +moment's notice. + +The famous prize-question also has not been lost sight of during these +days. In order to obtain an empiric foundation for my observations, I +have commenced examining the character of the different European +nations. In Link's _Travels_ I have read a good deal more about +Portugal, and shall now pass on to Spain. I am daily becoming more +convinced how much more limited everything appears when such +observations are made from within. + +Ritter came to see me for a minute, and has, among other things, +directed my attention again to the theory of colors. Herschel's new +discoveries, which have been carried further and extended by our young +naturalist, are very beautifully connected with that observation which +I have frequently told you of--that Bolognian phosphorus does not +receive any light on the yellow-red side of the spectrum, but +certainly does so on the blue-red side. The physical colors are +thereby identified with the chemical colors. The time and care which +I have devoted to this subject give me the greatest advantage in +judging of new observations, inasmuch as, in fact, I have thought out +some new experiments which will carry the matter further still. I +foresee that I shall this year write at least two or three chapters +more in my theory of colors. I am anxious, some day soon, to show you +the latest. + +Would you care to come to me on Thursday with Professor Meyer? Please +talk this over with him, and I will then write to him more fully on +the subject. Meanwhile, farewell. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +Weimar, August 18, 1802. + +You can never be inactive, and what you call an unproductive mood most +other people would consider time fully occupied. If only some +subordinate genius--one of those very persons residing and presiding +at the universities--would give the finishing touch to your scientific +ideas, collect and edit them fairly, and, in this way, preserve them +for the world! For, unfortunately, you yourself will always be putting +off this business, because, as I think, what is actually didactic is +not a part of your nature. You are, in reality, very well qualified +for being appropriated and plundered by others during your own +lifetime, as has already happened to you several times and would +happen more frequently still if people understood their own advantage +better. + +If we had become acquainted with each other half a dozen years earlier +than we did, I should have had time to master your scientific +investigations; I should perhaps have sustained your inclination to +give these important subjects their ultimate shape, and, in any case, +should have honestly looked after what belonged to you. + +I have lately been reading some notices on the elder Pliny, which have +astonished me in regard to what a man can accomplish by putting time +to good use. Compared with him, even Haller was a time-squanderer. But +I am afraid that the immense amount of time he devoted to reading, +making quotations and dictating, left him no proper time for +independent reflection, and he seems to have applied all the activity +of his mind to acquiring knowledge; for on one occasion he called his +nephew severely to task for walking up and down the garden without +having a book in his hand. + +During these last days I have been hard at work with my play, and, +moreover, not unsuccessfully; and I have never yet learned so much +from any work of my own as from this. It is one I can more readily +survey and also more readily manage; besides, it is a more grateful +and enjoyable task to make a simple subject rich and full of substance +than to limit one that is too rich and broad. + +Otherwise, however, a variety of things are at present engaging my +thoughts; and, as political affairs may also affect my circumstances, +I am awaiting my fate not without anxiety. There are also other things +which threaten to drag me out of my old position, and which, +therefore, are not agreeable to me. + +The repairs I am having made and other arrangements will, I hope, be +finished this week; and when you return I shall be able to bid you +welcome in a clean and pretty house. Farewell, and let me soon hear +that you are coming back to us with a rich gift. + + * * * * * + +GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER + +Jena, December 13, 1803. + +It was to be expected that I should be recalled when Madame de Stael +came to Weimar. * * * If she comes to pay me a visit, she shall be +well received, and, if I know of her coming four-and-twenty hours +beforehand, a part of Loder's house shall be furnished for her use; +she would find homely fare, but we should really meet and speak to +each other, and she could remain as long as she liked. What I have to +do here can be done at odd quarters of an hour, and the rest of my +time I would place at her disposal; but to drive over in such weather +as this, to have to dress, to be at court and in society, is utterly +impossible. This I maintain as positively as was ever declared by +yourself in similar circumstances. + +Take this as a friendly guidance for your actions, for I desire +nothing more than actually to see and to become acquainted with this +remarkable and highly respected woman, and I wish for nothing so much +as that she may care to take this drive of a couple of hours for my +sake. On her journey she must have become accustomed to worse fare +than she will find here. Arrange and manage these things with your +gentle, friendly hand, and send me an express messenger at once, as +soon as anything important occurs. + +I wish you success in everything that your solitude produces, +according as you yourself may wish and desire! I am rowing about in a +foreign element, nay, I may say that I am merely paddling about in it, +with loss to things without, and without satisfaction from within or +toward within. But--as I am always learning more distinctly from +Polygnotus and Homer--we have in reality to conceive hell as existing +here; thus it may be considered to be also a life. A thousand +farewells in a heavenly sense! + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +January 14, 1805. + +I am very sorry to hear that your having to keep at home is not +voluntary on your part. Unfortunately, we are none of us quite strong, +and he who is of necessity forced to learn to put up with being ill +has the best of it. I am very glad now that I formed a determination +and have commenced to occupy myself with a translation; thus these +days of misery have, at all events, been put to some use, and I have +lived and been active. During the next eight days I shall try to see +whether I can put myself into the proper humor for my _Demetrius_, +which, however, I fear I shall not be able to do. If it cannot be +managed, I shall have to look up some other semi-mechanical work. + +[Illustration: FACSIMILIE OF A LEAF FROM THE ALBUM OF SCHILLERS +LETTERS TO CHARLOTTE VON LENGEFELD] + +Herewith I send you what has been copied out. Tomorrow my Rudolph will +get the whole finished. + +Would you look over the first sheets, occasionally compare them with +the original, and mark in pencil whatever you may have to suggest? I +should like to have it ready as soon as possible, and before the roles +are copied out. + +If the roles are commenced day after tomorrow, we could have a +reading-rehearsal next Sunday, and there would still be ten days +before the thirtieth. + +The Duke has given me permission to read the _Memoirs of Marmontel_, +which you now have; therefore, please let me have them when you have +finished with them. + +The Grand Duchess yesterday again spoke with great interest about your +late recital. She is looking forward to seeing and hearing many other +things at your house. + +Farewell; and let me, too, soon hear from you again. Should you not be +in the humor to read the sheets through, please send them back to me, +so that I can make use of the time for having them copied out. + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER _to_ GOETHE + +February 22, 1805. + +It was pleasant to me to see a few lines in your handwriting, and it +has again awakened my belief in the return of the old state of +things--which I have at times quite despaired of. The two severe +attacks which I have had within the space of seven months have shaken +my system to its very foundation, and I shall have difficulty in +recovering my strength. + +It is true that my present attack seems to have been merely the +general epidemic that is going about, but the fever in my case was so +great, and it seized me when I was already in such a weak state, that +I feel as if I had arisen from a most severe illness, and find it +specially difficult to struggle against a certain listlessness which +is the worst trouble in my case. + +I am anxious to hear whether you have yet sent off the manuscript of +_Rameau_. Goeschen has not written anything about it to me, and, in +fact, for the last fortnight I have not heard of anything that is +going on in the world. + +I trust that things may daily and hourly improve with you and with me +too, so that we may soon see each other in gladness. + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 64: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 65: Les Bijoux _Indiscrets._] + +[Footnote 66: Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister._] + +[Footnote 67: A publisher in Berlin] + + * * * * * + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth +and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. III, by Kuno Francke, Editor-in-Chief + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS VOL. 3 *** + +***** This file should be named 11692.txt or 11692.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/6/9/11692/ + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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