Читать книгу The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 03 - Коллектив авторов, Ю. Д. Земенков, Koostaja: Ajakiri New Scientist - Страница 52

DRAMAS
THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN
ACT I
SCENE VII

Оглавление

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.]

* * * * *

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

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