artist William—there was not such another prize in the whole booty at Prague. nun Neh. The same!—a health is to go round in him. Masten of the cellan (shaking his head while he fetches and rinses the cups). This will be something for the tale-bearers—this goes to Vienna. neual ANn. Permit me to look at it.—Well, this is a cup indeed! How heavy! as well it may be, being all gold.—And what neat things are embossed on it! how natural and elegant they look –There, on that first quarter, let me see. That proud Amazon there on horseback, she that is taking a leap over the crosier and mitres, and carries on a wand a hat together with a banner, on which there 's a goblet represented. Can you tell me what all this signifies? Masorett of The cel, L.A.R. The woman whom you see there on horseback, is the Frce Election of the Bohemian Crown. That is signified by the round hat, and by that fiery steed on which she is riding. The hat is the pride of man; for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors is no free man. neuxi Ann. But what is the cup there on the banner? M. Aster of the cel, LAB. The cup signifies the freedom of the Bohemian Church, as it was in our forefathers' times. Our forefathers in the wars of the Ilussites forced from the Pope this noble privilege : for the Pope, you know, will not grant the cup to any layman. Your true Moravian values nothing beyond the cup; it is his costly jewel, and has cost the Bohemians their precious blood in many and many a battle. neu Mann. And what says that chart that hangs in the air there, over it all M.Astra or the cell.A. ft. That signifies the Bohemian letter-royal, which we forced from the Emperor Rudolph—a precious, never to be enough valued parchment, that secures to the new Church the old privileges of free ringing and open psalmody. But since he of Steiermark has ruled over us, that is at an end; and after the battle at Prague, in which Count Palatine Frederick lost crown and empire, our faith hangs upon the pulpit and the altar—and our brethren look at their homes over their shoulders; but the letter-royal the Emperor himself cut to pieces with his scissars. Neu M.A. N. N. why, my good Master of the Cellar! you are deep read in the chronicles of your country? Masten or tile cell. A it. So were my forefathers, and for that reason were the minstrels, and served under Procopius and Ziska. Peace he with their ashes! Well, well! they fought for a good cause though—There' carry it up! NEum ANN. Stay! let me but look at this second quarter. Look there! That is, when at Prague Castle the Imperial Counsellors, Martinitz and Stawata were hurled down head over heels, T is even so! there stands Count Thur who commands it. [Runner takes the service-cup and goes off with it. MASTER OF THE CELLAh. 0 let me never more hear of that day. It was the three-and-twentieth of May, in the year of our Lord one thousand, six hundred, and eighteen. It seems to me as it were but yesterday—from that unlucky day it all began, all the heart-aches of the country. Since that day it is now sixteen years, and there has never once been peace on the earth. [Health drunk aloud at the second table. The Prince of Weimar! Hurra! [At the third and fourth table. Long live Prince William! Long live Duke Bernard Hurra! [Music strikes up. first servant. Hear'em! Hear 'em! What an uproar! second servant (comes in running). Did you hear? They have drank the Prince of Wei mar's health. thift d seawa NT. The Swedish Chief Commander' first servant (speaking at the same time). The Lutheran' second serv ANT. Just before, when Count Deodate gave out the Emperor's health, they were all as mum as a nibbling In Ouse. MAster of the cellAR. Po, po! When the wine goes in, strange things come out. A good servant hears, and hears not!—You should be nothing but eyes and feet, except when you are called to. second servant. [To the Runner, to whom he gives secretly a flask of wine, keeping his eye on the Master of the Cellar, standing between him and the Runner. Quick, Thomas! before the Master of the Cellar runs this way—’t is a flask of Frontignac 1–Snapped it up at the third table—Canst go off with it? Runnen (hides it in his pocket). All right! [Exit the Second servant. thind skavant (aside to the First). Be on the hark, Jack! that we may have right plenty to tell to father Quivoga—He will give us right plenty of absolution in return for it. FiRST serv ANT. For that very purpose I am always having something to do behind illo's chair.—He is the man for speeches to make you stare with ! Master of the cellan (to Neu MANN). Who, pray, may that swarthy man he, he with the cross, that is chatting so confidentially with Esterhats? neum Ann. Ay! he too is one of those to whom they confide too much. He calls himself Maradas, a Spaniard is he. Master of the cellan (impatiently). Spaniard! Spaniard!—I tell you, friend, nothing good comes of those Spaniards. All these out-landish fellows are little better than rogues. * There is a humour in the original which cannot be given in the translation. • Die Welschen alle,” etc. which word in classical German means the Italians alone; but in its first sense, and at present in the vulgar use of the word, signifies foreigners in general. our word wall-nuts, I suppose, means outlandish nuts-Walla nuces, in German - Welsche Nūsse." T. NEun Anx. Fy, fy! you should not say so, friend. There are among them our very best generals, and those on whom the Duke at this moment relies the most. Master of the cellan. [Taking the flask out of the Runner's pocket. My son, it will be broken to pieces in your pocket. - [Tearsky hurries in, fetches away the paper and calls to a Servant for Pen and Ink, and goes to the back of the stage. MASTER of The cellaa (to the servants). The Lieutenant-General stands up.–Be on the watch. –Now! They break up.–0ff, and move back the forms. [They rise at all the tables, the servants hurry off the front of the stage to the Tables; part of the guests come forward. SCENE XIII. Octavio Piccolomi Ni enters in conversation with MAmadas, and both place themselves quite on the edge of the stage on one side of the Proscenium. On the side directly opposite, Max. Piccolouini, by himself, lost in thought, and taking no part in anything that is going forward. The middle space between both, but rather more distant from the edge of the stage, is filled up by Butler, Isolani, Goetz, Tiefenbach, and Kolar to isolani (while the Company is coming forward). Good night, good night, Kolatto! Good night, Lieutenant-General!—I should rather say, good morning. Goerz (to TiEFENBAch). Noble brother' (making the usual compliment after meals.) TIEFEN bach. Ay!'t was a royal feast indeed. Goetz. Yes, my Lady Countess understands these matters. Her mother-in-law, Heaven rest her soul, taught her! —Ah! that was a housewife for you! - TiEFENBAch. There was not her like in all Bohemia for setting out a table. octavio (aside to MARADAs). Dome the favour to talk to me—talk of what you will—or of nothing. Only preserve the appearance at least of talking. I would not wish to stand by myself, and yet I conjecture that there will be goings on here worthy of our attentive observation. He continues to fox his eye on the whole following scene. isolaxi (on the point of going. Lights! lights! trarsky (advances with the Paper to Isolaxi). Noble brother; two minutes longer!—ilere is something to subscribe. isol. Ani. Subscribe as much as you like—but you must excuse me from reading it. tertsky. There is no need. It is the oath which you have already read.—Only a few marks of your pen! [Isolani hands over the Paper to Octavio respectfully. Teratsky. Nay, nay, first come first served. There is no prece Excuse me. Tiefe NBAch (sits down). Pardon me, nobles!—This standing does not agree with me. TERTsky. Consult only your own convenience, General Tief exeach. Clear at head, sound in stomach—only my legs won't carry me any longer. isolani (pointing at his corpulence). Poor legs; how should they! Such an unmerciful load! (Octavio subscribes his name, and reaches over the Paper to Tsarsky, who gives it to Isotaxi; and he goes to the table to sign his name.) Tief Exbach. "T was that war in Pomerania that first brought it on. Out in all weathers—ice and snow—no help for it.-I shall never get the better of it all the days of my life. Gortz. Why, in simple verity, your Swede makes no nice inquiries about the season. Tehrsky (observing Isolani, whose hand trembles excessively, so that he can scarce direct his pen. iiave you had that ugly complaint long, noble brother?— Dispatch it. isola Ni. The sins of youth! I have already tried the chalybeate waters. Well—I must bear it. [Thatsky gives the Paper to Mahapas; he stops to the table to subscribe. octavio (advancing to Butler). You are not over fond of the orgies of Bacchus, Colonel! I have observed it. You would, I think, find yourself more to your liking in the uproar of a battle, than of a feast. etorien. I must confess, t is not in my way. octavio (stepping nearer to him friendlily). Nor in mine either, I can assure you ; and I am not a little glad, my much-honoured Colonel Butler, that we agree so well in our opinions. A half dozen good friends at most at a small round table, a glass of genuine Tokay, open hearts, and a rational conversation—that 's my taste . Butler. And mine too, when it can be had. [The paper comes to Tiergne ach, who glances over it at the same time with Goerz and Kolarro. Mamadas in the mean time returns to Octavio. All this takes place, the conversation with Butler, proceeding uninterrupted. octavio (introducing MAaadas to Butlem). Don Balthasar Maradas! likewise a man of our stamp, and long ago your admirer. [Butler bows. octavio (continuing). You are a stranger here—'t was but yesterday you arrived—you are ignorant of the ways and means here. T is a wretched place—I know, at our age, one loves to be snug and quiet—What if you moved your lodgings? —Come, be my visitor. (Burlea makes a low bow). Nay, without compliment —For a friend like you, I have still a corner remaining. Butler (coldly). Your obliged humble servant, my Lord LieutenantGeneral' [The paper comes to Burlea, who goes to the table to subscribe it. The front of the stage is vacant, so that both the Piccolominis, each on the side where he had been from the commencement of the scene, remain alone. octavio (after having some time watched his son in silence, advances somewhat nearer to him). You were long absent from us, friend! M-x. I––urgent business detained me. octavio. And, I observe, you are still absent! MAx. You know this crowd and bustle always makes me silent. octavio (advancing still nearer). May I be permitted to ask what the business was that detained you? Tertsky knows it without asking! SCENE XIV. To these enter Illo from the inner room. He has in his hand the golden service-cup, and is extremely distempered with drinking : Goetz and Burlea follow him, endeavouring to keep him back. illo. What do you want? Let me go. Goetz and burlea. Drink no more, lllo! For heaven's sake, drink no more. illo (goes up to Octavio, and shakes him cordially by the hand, and then drinks). Octavio! I bring this to you! Let all grudge be drowned in this friendly bowl! I know well enough, ye never loved me—Devil take me!—and I never loved you!–1 am always even with people in that way!—Let what's past be past—that is, you understand-forgotten I esteem you infinitely. (Embracing him repeatedly). You have not a dearer friend on earth than I–but that you know. The fellow that cries rogue to you calls me villain—and I'll strangle him!—my dear friend! rearsky (whispering to him). Art in thy senses? For heaven's sake, Illo, think where you are! illo (aloud). What do you mean?—There are none but friends here, are there! (Looks round the whole circle with a jolly and triumphant air.) Not a sneaker among us, thank heaven! trarsky (to Burles, eagerly). Take him off with you, force him off, I entreat you, Butler! nutlem (to Illo). Field Marshal! a word with you. (Leads him to the side-board.) illo (cordially). A thousand for one; Fill—Fill it once more up to the brim.—To this gallant man's health' isolani (to Max., who all the while has been staring on the paper with fixed but vacant eyes). Slow and sure, my noble brother?—Hast parsed it all yet”—Some words yet to go through?-Ha! Max. (waking as from a dream). What am I to do? rentsky, and at the same time isolani. Sign your name. (Octavio directs his eyes on him. with intense anxiety). Max. (returns the paper). Let it stav till to-morrow. It is business-to-day I am not sufficiently collected. Send it to me to-morrow. rearsky. Nay, collect yourself a little. isolani. Awake man! awake!—Come, thy signature, and have done with it! What? Thou art the youngest in the whole company, and wouldst be wiser than all of us together? Look there! thy father has signed—we have all signed. rearsky (to Octavio). Use your influence. Instruct him. octavio. My son is at the age of discretion. illo (leaves the service-cup on the sideboard). What's the dispute? Did you hear nothing! Seem’d, as if I heard SCENE W. Thekla and MAx. Piccolomini. Therla (as soon as the Countess is out of sight, in a quick low voice to Piccolomini). Don't trust them . They are false! MAx. Impossible! ther L.A. Trust no one here but me. I saw at once, They had a purpose. Max. Purpose! but what purpose? And how can we be instrumental to it? THERLA. I know no more than you; but yet believe me: There's some design in this! to make us happy, To realize our union—trust me, love! They but pretend to wish it. MAX. But these Tertskys—— Why use we them at all? Why not your mother? Excellent creature! she deserves from us A full and filial confidence. Thek L.A. She doth love you, Doth rate you high before all others—but— But such a secret—she would never have The courage to conceal it from my father. For her own peace of mind we must preserve it A secret from her too. Max. Why any secret? I love not secrets. Mark, what I will do. I'll throw me at your father's feet—let him Decide upon my fortunes!—He is true, He wears no mask—he hates all crooked ways– He is so good, so noble! therla (falls on his neck). That are you! MAx. You knew him only since this morn; but I Have lived ten years already in his presence. And who knows whether in this very moment He is not merely waiting for us both To own our loves, in order to unite us? You are silent?—— You look at me with such a hopelessness! What have you to object against your father? T H Exi.A. 1? Nothing. Only he's so occupied— He has no leisure time to think ahout The happiness of us two. Follow me! Let us not place too great a faith in men. These Tertskys—we will still be grateful to them For every kindness, but not trust them further Than they deserve;—and in all else rely—— On our own hearts MAx. O! shall we e'er be happy? [Taking his hand tenderly. thek L.A. Are we not happy now? Art thou not mine? Am I not thine? There lives within my soul A lofty courage—'t is love gives it me! I ought to be less open–ought to hide My heart more from thee—so decorum dictates: But where in this place couldst thou seek for truth, If in my mouth thou didst not find it? SC E N E VI. To them enters the Countess Temtsky. countess (in a pressing manner). Come! My husband sends me for you—It is now The latest moment. [they not appearing to attend to what she says, she steps between them. Part you! thi fir, L.A. 0, not yet! It has been scarce a moment. countfoss. Aye! Then time Flies swiftly with your Highness, Princess niece! MAX. There is no hurry, aunt. countess. Away! away! The folks begin to miss you. Twice already His father has ask'd for him. The KLA. Ha! his father' countess. You understand that, niece! trier L.A. Why needs he To go at all to that society? 'T is not his proper company. They may Be worthy men, but he's too young for them. In brief, he suits not such society. count foss. You mean, you'd rather keep him wholly here? thekla (with energy). Yes! you have hit it, aunt! That is my meaning. Leave him here wholly! Tell the company— count ess. What? have you lost your senses, niece?— Count, you remember the conditions. Come! M \x. (to Thekla). Lady, I must obey, Farewell, dear lady! [The KLA turns away from him with a quick motion. What say you then, dear lady? Therla (without looking at him). Nothing. Go! Max. Can I, when you are angry—— [He draws up to her, their eyes meet, she stands silent a moment, then throu's herself into his arms; he presses her fast to his heart. country's. Off! Heavens ! if any one should come! Hark! What's that noise! It comes this way.——Off! Max. tears himself away out of her arms, and goes. The Countess accompanies him. Thekla follows him with her eyes at first, walks restlessly across the room, then stops, and remains standing, lost in thought. A guitar lies on the table, she seizes it as by a sudden emotion, and after she has played a while an irregular and melancholy symphony, she falls gradually into the music and sings. thekla (plays and sings). The cloud doth gather, the greenwood roar, The damsel paces along the shore; The billows they tumble with might, with might; And she flings out her voice to the darksome night; Her bosom is swelling with sorrow; The world it is empty, the heart will die, There's nothing to wish for beneath the sky: Thou Holy One, call thy child away! I've lived and loved, and that was to-day— Make ready my grave-clothes to-morrow." turkla (plays and sing). The oak-forest bellows, the cloud, gather, the damsel walks to and fro on the foreen of the shore; the wave breaks with might, **b might, and she six go out into the dark night, her eye discoloured with weeping : the heart is dead, the world is empty, and further gives it nothin; more to the wish. Thou Holy one, call tly child home. I have enjoyed the happiness of this world, I have lived and have loved. I cannot but add here an imitation of this song. with which the author of . The Tale of Rosamund Gray and Blind Mar to has favoured me, and which appears to me to have caught the happiest manner of our old ballads. The clouds are blackening, the storms threat'ning, countess. I mean, niece, that you should not have forgotten Who you are, and who he is. But perchance That never once occurr'd to you. THEK LA. What then? countess. That you're the daughter of the Prince Duke Friedland. ther L.A. Well—and what farther? countess. What? a pretty question 1 the kla. He was born that which we have but become. He's of an ancient Lombard family, Son of a reigning princess. countess. Are you dreaming? Talking in sleep? An excellent jest, forsooth, We shall no doubt right courteously entreat him To honour with his hand the richest heiress In Europe. The kl, A. That will not be necessary. count ess. Methinks 't were well though not to run the hazard. The KLA. His father loves him : Count Octavio Will interpose no difficulty—— countess. His His father! his? But yours niece, what of yours? The ki.A. Why I begin to think you fear his father. So anxiously you hide it from the man! His father, his, I mean. countess (looks at her as scrutinizing). Niece, you are false. th Ekt.A. Are you then wounded ? 0, be friends with me! count Ess. You hold your game for won already. Do not Triumph too soon!— thkkla (interrupting her, and attempting to soothe her.) Nay now, be friends with me. countess. It is not yet so far gone. THEK L.A. I believe you. countess. Did you suppose your father had laid out His most important life in toils of war, Denied himself each quiet earthly bliss, Had banish'd slumber from his tent, devoted His noble head to care, and for this only, To make a happier pair of you? At length To draw you from your convent, and conduct In easy triumph to your arms the man That chanced to please your eyes! All this, methinks, He might have purchased at a cheaper rate. tri Ek L.A. That which he did not plant for me might yet Bear me fair fruitage of its own accord. And if my friendly and affectionate fate, |