His arm, and where they can, to clip his pinions.
Then these new dainty requisitions! these,
Which this same Questenberg brings hither!-
These requisitions of the Emperor,
I too have heard about them; but I hope
The Duke will not draw back a single inch!
Not from his right most surely, unless first
-From office!
BUTLER (shocked and confused).
Know you aught then? You alarm me.
You did present yourself upon the part
Of the Emperor, to supplicate our Duke
That he would straight assume the chief command.
To supplicate? Nay, noble General!
So far extended neither my commission
(At least to my own knowledge) nor my zeal.
Well, well, then-to compel him, if you choose.
I can remember me right well, Count Tilly
Had suffer'd total rout upon the Lech.
Bavaria lay all open to the enemy,
Whom there was nothing to delay from pressing
ISOLANI (at the same time with BUTLER, and in a hur- Onwards into the very heart of Austria.
We should be ruin'd, every one of us!
Yonder I see our worthy friend* approaching
With the Lieutenant General, Piccolomini.
BUTLER (shaking his head significantly).
I fear we shall not go hence as we came.
Enter OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI and QUESTENBERG.
OCTAVIO (still in the distance).
Ay, ay! more still! Still more new visitors!
Acknowledge, friend! that never was a camp,
Which held at once so many heads of heroes.
[Approaching nearer.
Welcome, Count Isolani!
At that time you and Werdenberg appear'd
Before our General, storming him with prayers,
And menacing the Emperor's displeasure,
Unless he took compassion on this wretchedness.
ISOLANI (steps up to them).
Yes, yes, 'tis comprehensible enough,
Wherefore with your commission of to-day
You were not all too willing to remember
Your former one.
Why not, Count Isolan?
No contradiction sure exists between them.
It was the urgent business of that time
To snatch Bavaria from her enemy's hand;
And my commission of to-day instructs me
To free her from her good friends and protectors.
A worthy office! After with our blood
We have wrested this Bohemia from the Saxon,
Evel. now am I arrived; it had been else my duty-To be swept out of it is all our thanks,
And Colonel Butler-trust me, I rejoice
Thus to renew acquaintance with a man
Whose worth and services I know and honor.
See, see, my friend!
There might we place at once before our eyes
The sum of war's whole trade and mystery-
[To QUESTENBERG, presenting BUTLER and ISOLANI
at the same time to him.
These two the total sum-Strength and Dispatch.
QUESTENBERG (to OCTAVIO).
And lo! betwixt them both, experienced Prudence!
OCTAVIO (presenting QUESTENBERG to BUTLER and
ISOLANI).
The Chamberlain and War-commissioner Questen-
berg,
The bearer of the Emperor's behests,
The long-tried friend and patron of all soldiers,
We honor in this noble visitor.
ILLO (moving towards QUESTENBERG). "Tis not the first time, noble Minister, You have shown our camp this honor.
I stood before these colors.
Yet with a difference, General! The one fills
With profitable industry the purse,
The others are well skill'd to empty it.
Once before, The sword has made the Emperor poor; the plow
Must reinvigorate his resources.
Thank Heaven! that means have been found out to His cares and feelings all ranks share alike,
Nor will he offer one up to another.
Some little from the fingers of the Croats.
There! The Stawata and the Martinitz,
On whom the Emperor heaps his gifts and graces, To the heart-burning of all good BohemiansThose minions of court favor, those court harpies, Who fatten on the wrecks of citizens
And therefore thrusts he us into the deserts
As beasts of prey, that so he may preserve
His dear sheep fattening in his fields at home.
QUESTENBERG (with a sneer).
Count! this comparison you make, not I.
Driven from their house and home-who reap no Why, were we all the court supposes us,
Save in the general calamity
Who now, with kingly pomp, insult and mock
The desolation of their country-these,
Let these, and such as these, support the war,
The fatal war, which they alone enkindled!
And those state-parasites, who have their feet
So constantly beneath the Emperor's table,
Who cannot let a benefice fall, but they
Snap at it with dog's hunger-they, forsooth,
Would pare the soldier's bread, and cross his reckon-
ing!
My life long will it anger me to think,
How when I went to court seven years ago,
To see about new horses for our regiment,
How from one antechamber to another
They dragg'd me on, and left me by the hour
To kick my heels among a crowd of simpering
Feast-fatten'd slaves, as if I had come thither
A mendicant suitor for the crumbs of favor
That fall beneath their tables. And, at last,
Whom should they send me but a Capuchin!
Straight I began to muster up my sins
For absolution-but no such luck for me!
This was the man, this capuchin, with whom
I was to treat concerning the army horses:
And I was forced at last to quit the field,
The business unaccomplish'd. Afterwards
The Duke procured me, in three days, what I
Could not obtain in thirty at Vienna.
"T were dangerous, sure, to give us liberty
You have taken liberty-it was not given you.
And therefore it becomes an urgent duty
To rein it in with curbs.
OCTAVIO (interposing and addressing QUESTENBERG)
My noble friend,
This is no more than a remembrancing
That you are now in camp, and among warriors.
The soldier's boldness constitutes his freedom.
Could he act daringly, unless he dared
Talk even so? One runs into the other.
The boldness of this worthy officer,
[Pointing to BUTLER. Which now has but mistaken in its mark, Preserved, when naught but boldness could preserve it,
To the Emperor his capital city, Prague,
In a most formidable mutiny
Of the whole garrison. [Military music at a distance.
Hah! here they come
The sentries are saluting them: this signal
Announces the arrival of the Duchess.
OCTAVIO (to QUESTENBERG).
Then my son Max. too has returned. "T was he
Fetch'd and attended them from Carnthen hither
ISOLANI (to ILLO).
Shall we not go in company to greet them?
Well, let us go.-Ho! Colonel Butler, come.
[TO OCTAVIO.
You'll not forget, that yet ere noon we meet
Yes, yes! your travelling bills soon found their way The noble Envoy at the General's palace.
Then after come what may come. 'Tis man's nature You are now acquainted with three-fourths of the
I know a spell that will soon dispossess The evil spirit in him.
QUESTENBERG (walking up and down in evident disquiet.)
Friend, friend!
O! this is worse, far worse, than we had suffer'd
Ourselves to dream of at Vienna. There
We saw it only with a courtier's eyes,
Eyes dazzled by the splendor of the throne.
We had not seen the War-chief, the Commander, The man all-powerful in his camp. Here, here, "Tis quite another thing.
Here is no Emperor more-the Duke is Emperor. Alas, my friend! alas, my noble friend!
Beware, you do not think,
This walk which you have ta'en me through the camp That I, by lying arts, and complaisant Strikes my hopes prostrate.
How shall we hold footing
Beneath this tempest, which collects itself
And threats us from all quarters? The enemy
Of the empire on our borders, now already
The master of the Danube, and still farther,
And farther still, extending every hour!
In our interior the alarum-bells
Of insurrection-peasantry in arms—
All orders discontented-and the army,
Just in the moment of our expectation
Of aidance from it-lo! this very army
Seduced, run wild, lost to all discipline,
Loosen'd, and rent asunder from the state
And from their sovereign, the blind instrument
Of the most daring of mankind, a weapon
Of fearful power, which at his will he wields!
Nay, nay, friend! let us not despair too soon.
Men's words are ever bolder than their deeds:
And many a resolute, who now appears
Made up to all extremes, will, on a sudden
Find in his breast a heart he wot not of,
Let but a single honest man speak out
The true name of his crime! Remember too,
We stand not yet so wholly unprotected.
Counts Altringer and Galas have maintain'd
Hypocrisy, have skulked into his graces:
Or with the substance of smooth professions
Nourish his all-confiding friendship! No-
Compell'd alike by prudence, and that duty
Which we all owe our country, and our sovereign,
To hide my genuine feelings from him, yet
Ne'er have I duped him with base counterfeits!
It is the visible ordinance of Heaven.
I know not what it is that so attracts
And links him both to me and to my son.
Comrades and friends we always were-long hab
Adventurous deeds perform'd in company,
And all those many and various incidents
Which store a soldier's memory with affections,
Had bound us long and early to each other-
Yet I can name the day, when all at once
His heart rose on me, and his confidence
Shot out in sudden growth. It was the morning
Before the memorable fight at Lutzner.
Urged by an ugly dream, I sought him out,
To press him to accept another charger.
At distance from the tents, beneath a tree,
I found him in a sleep. When I had waked him
And had related all my bodings to him,
Long time he stared upon me, like a man
Astounded; thereon fell upon my neck,
And manifested to me an emotion
That far outstripp'd the worth of that small service.
Since then his confidence has follow'd me
With the same pace that mine has fled from him.
You lead your son into the secret?
What! and not warn him either what bad hands His lot has placed him in?
Leave him in wardship to his innocence.
His young and open soul-dissimulation
Is foreign to its habits! Ignorance
Alone can keep alive the cheerful air,
The unembarrass'd sense and light free spirit
That make the Duke secure.
QUESTENBERG (anxiously).
My honor'd friend! most highly do I deem
Of Colonel Piccolomini-yet-if-
Reflect a little-
OCTAVIO (to QUESTENBERG).
Hush! Suppress it, friend! Unless some end were answer'd by the utterance.Of him there you'll make nothing.
MAX. PICCOLOMINI, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI,
Ha! there he is himself. Welcome, my father!
They call a spirit up, and when he comes,
Straight their flesh creeps and quivers, and they
dread him
More than the ills for which they call'd him up.
The uncommon, the sublime, must seem and be
[He embraces his father. As he turns round, he Like things of every day. But in the field,
observes QUESTENBERG, and draws back with a cold and reserved air.
You are engaged, I see. I'll not disturb you.
How, Max.? Look closer at this visitor.
Attention, Max., an old friend merits-Reverence
Belongs of right to the envoy of your sovereign.
MAX. (drily).
Von Questenberg!-Welcome-if you bring with you
Aught good to our head-quarters.
QUESTENBERG (seizing his hand).
Nay, draw not
Your hand away, Count Piccolomini !
Not on mine own account alone I seized it,
And nothing common will I say therewith.
Ay, there the Present Being makes itself felt
The personal must command, the actual eye
Examine. If to be the chieftain asks
All that is great in nature, let it be
Likewise his privilege to move and act
In all the correspondencies of greatness.
The oracle within him, that which lives,
He must invoke and question-not dead books,
Not ordinances, not mould-rotted papers.
My son of those old narrow ordinances
Let us not hold too lightly. They are weights
Of priceless value, which oppress'd mankind
Tied to the volatile will of their oppressors.
For always formidable was the league
[Taking the hands of both. And partnership of free power with free will.
Octavio-Max. Piccolomini!
O savior names, and full of happy omen!
Ne'er will her prosperous genius turn from Austria,
While two such stars, with blessed influences
Beaming protection, shine above her hosts.
Heh!-Noble minister! You miss your part.
You came not here to act a panegyric.
You're sent, I know, to find fault and to scold
I must not be beforehand with my comrades.
OCTAVIO (to MAX.).
The way of ancient ordinance, though it winds,
Is yet no devious way. Straight forward goes
The lightning's path, and straight the fearful path
Of the cannon-ball. Direct it flies and rapid,
Shattering that it may reach, and shattering what 11
reaches.
My son the road, the human being travels,
That, on which BLESSING comes and goes, doth follow
us-The river's course, the valley's playful windings,
Curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines,
Honoring the holy bounds of property!
And thus secure, though late, leads to its end.
He comes from court, where people are not quite So well contented with the Duke, as here.
What now have they contrived to find out in him?
That he alone determines for himself
What he himself alone doth understand!
Well, therein he does right, and will persist in 't.
Heaven never meant him for that passive thing
That can be struck and hammer'd out to suit
Another's taste and fancy. He'll not dance
To every tune of every minister:
It goes against his nature-he can't do it.
He is possess'd by a commanding spirit,
And his too is the station of command.
And well for us it is so! There exist
Few fit to rule themselves, but few that use
Their intellects intelligently.-Then
Well for the whole, if there be found a man,"
Who makes himself what nature destined him,
The pause, the central point to thousand thousands
Stands fix'd and stately, like a firm-built column,
Where all may press with joy and confidence.
Now such a man is Wallenstein; and if
Another better suits the court-no other
But such a one as he can serve the army
O hear your father, noble youth! hear him, Who is at once the hero and the man.
My son, the nursling of the camp spoke in thee!
A war of fifteen years
Hath been thy education and thy school.
Peace hast thou never witness'd! There exists
A higher than the warrior's excellence.
In war itself war is no ultimate purpose.
The vast and sudden deeds of violence,
Adventures wild, and wonders of the moment,
These are not they, my son, that generate
The Calm, the Blissful, and the enduring Mighty!
Lo there! the soldier, rapid architect!
Builds his light town of canvas, and at once
With arms, and neighing steeds, and mirth and quarre
The whole scene moves and bustles momently,
The motley market fills; the roads, the streams
Are crowded with new freights, trade stirs and hurries
But on some morrow morn, all suddenly,
The tents drop down, the horde renews its march
Dreary, and solitary as a church-yard
The meadow and down-trodden seed-plot lie
And the year's harvest is gone utterly
O let the Emperor make peace, my father!
Most gladly would I give the blood-stain'd laurel
For the first violet* of the leafless spring,
Pluck'd in those quiet fields where I have journey'd!
What ails thee? What so moves thee all at once?
Peace have I ne'er beheld? I have beheld it.
From thence am I come hither: O! that sight,
It glimmers still before me, like some landscape
Left in the distance,-some delicious landscape!
My road conducted me through countries where
The war has not yet reach'd. Life, life, my
My venerable father, Life has charms
The joyous vespers of a bloody day.
O happy man, O fortunate! for whom
The well-known door, the faithful arms are open,
The faithful tender arms with mute embracing.
QUESTENBERG (apparently much affected).
O! that you should speak
Of such a distant, distant time, and not
Of the to-morrow, not of this to-day.
MAX (turning round to him, quick and vehement).
Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna !
I will deal openly with you, Questenberg.
Just now, as first I saw you standing here,
(I'll own it to you freely) indignation
father-Crowded and press'd my inmost soul together.
"Tis ye that hinder peace, ye!-and the warrior,
It is the warrior that must force it from you.
Ye fret the General's life out, blacken him,
Hold him up as a rebel, and Heaven knows
What else still worse, because he spares the Saxons,
And tries to awaken confidence in the enemy;
Which yet 's the only way to peace: for if
War intermit not during war, how then
Which we have ne'er experienced. We have been
But voyaging along its barren coasts,
Like some poor ever-roaming horde of pirates,
That, crowded in the rank and narrow ship,
House on the wild sea with wild usages,
Nor know aught of the main land, but the bays
Where safeliest they may venture a thieves' landing.
Whate'er in the inland dales the land conceals
Of fair and exquisite, O! nothing, nothing,
Do we behold of that in our rude voyage.
OCTAVIO (attentive, with an appearance of
uneasiness).
And so your journey has reveal'd this to you?
"Twas the first leisure of my life. O tell me,
What is the meed and purpose of the toil,
The painful toil, which robb'd me of my youth,
Left me a heart unsoul'd and solitary,
A spirit uninform'd, unornamented,
For the camp's stir and crowd and ceaseless larum,
The neighing war-horse, the air-shattering trumpet,
The unvaried, still returning hour of duty,
Word of command, and exercise of arms-
There's nothing here, there's nothing in all this
To satisfy the heart, the gasping heart!
Mere bustling nothingness, where the soul is not-
This cannot be the sole felicity,
These cannot be man's best and only pleasures!
Much hast thou learnt, my son, in this short journey.
O! day thrice lovely! when at length the soldier
Returns home into life; when he becomes
A fellow-man among his fellow-men.
The colors are unfurl'd, the cavalcade
Marshals, and now the buzz is hush'd, and hark!
Now the soft peace-march beats, home, brothers, home!
The caps and helmets are all garlanded
With green boughs, the last plundering of the fields.
The city gates fly open of themselves,
They need no longer the petard to tear them.
The ramparts are all fill'd with men and women,
With peaceful men and women, that send onwards
Kisses and welcomings upon the air,
Which they make breezy with affectionate gestures.
From all the towers rings out the merry peal,
Den blut'gen Lorbeer geb ich hin mit Freuden
Fürs erste Veilchen, das der Mærz uns bringt,
Das dürftige Pfand der neuverjüngten Erde.
And whence can peace come?-Your own plagues
fall on you!
Even as I love what's virtuous, hate I you.
And here make I this vow, here pledge myself;
My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein,
And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere ye
Shall revel and dance jubilee o'er his ruin.
QUESTENBERG, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI
Alas, alas! and stands it so?
[Then in pressing and impatient tones
What, friend! and do we let him go away
In this delusion-let him go away?
Not call him back immediately, not open
His eyes upon the spot?
OCTAVIO (recovering himself out of a deep study)
He has now open'd mine,
And I see more than pleases me.
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