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THE PICCOLOMINI, ETC.

ACT I. SCENE I.

An old Gothic Chamber in the Council House at Pilsen, decorated with Colours and other War Insignia.

ILLO with BUTLER and ISOLANI.

ILLO.

Ye have come late-but ye are come! The distance, Count Isolan, excuses your delay.

ISOLANI.

Add this too, that we come not empty-handed.

At Donauwert it was reported to us,

A Swedish caravan was on its way

Transporting a rich cargo of provision,

Almost six hundred waggons. This my Croats

BUTLER.

Both wife and daughter does the Duke call hither!
He crowds in visitants from all sides.
ISOLANI.

Hm!

So much the better! I had framed my mind
To hear of nought but warlike circumstance,
Of marches, and attacks, and batteries:
And lo! the Duke provides, that something too
Of gentler sort, and lovely, should be present
To feast our eyes.

ILLO (who has been standing in the attitude of
meditation, to BUTLER, whom he leads a little
on one side).

And how came you to know

That the Count Galas joins us not?

BUTLER,

Because

He importuned me to remain behind. ILLO (with warmth).

Plunged down upon and seized, this weighty prize! And you? You hold out firmly?
We bring it hither--

ILLO.

Just in time to banquet The illustrious company assembled here.

BUTLER.

'T is all alive! a stirring scene here!

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I had forgotten

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Ay, if we would but so consider it!—
If we would all of us consider it so!
The Emperor gives us nothing; from the Duke
Comes all-whate'er we hope, whate'er we have.
ISOLANI (to ILLO).

My noble brother! did I tell you how
The Duke will satisfy my creditors?
Will be himself my banker for the future,
Make me once more a creditable man!—
And this is now the third time, think of that!
This kingly-minded man has rescued me
From absolute ruin, and restored my honour.

ILLO.

O that his power but kept pace with his wishes!
Why, friend! he'd give the whole world to his soldiers.

2 The Dukes in Germany being always reigning powers, their But at Vienna, brother!—here's the grievance!-sons and daughters are entitled Princes and Princesses.

What politic schemes do they not lay to shorten

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ISOLANI (at the same time with BUTLER, and in a hurrying Onwards into the very heart of Austria.

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The war maintains the war. Are the boors ruin'd,

OCTAVIO (presenting QUESTENBERG to BUTLER and The Emperor gains so many more new soldiers.

ISOLANI).

The Chamberlain and War-commissioner Questenberg,
The bearer of the Emperor's behests,

The long-tried friend and patron of all soldiers,
We honour in this noble visitor.

QUESTENBERG.

And is the poorer by even so many subjects.

ISOLANI.

[Universal silence. Poh! We are all his subjects.

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QUESTENBERG.

QUESTENBERG.

Thank Heaven! that means have been found out to hide His cares and feelings all ranks share alike,
Some little from the fingers of the Croats.
Nor will he offer one up to another.

ILLO.

There! The Stawata and the Martinitz,

On whom the Emperor heaps his gifts and graces,
To the heart-burning of all good Bohemians-
Those minions of court favour, those court harpies,
Who fatten on the wrecks of citizens

Driven from their house and home-who reap no
harvests

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!

BUTLER.

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,

ISOLANI.

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 J.

BUTLER.

Why, were we all the Court supposes us,
'T were dangerous, sure, to give us liberty.

QUESTENBERG.

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.

Would pare the soldier's bread, and cross his reckon- Could he act daringly, unless he dared

ing!

ISOLANI.

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 favour
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.

QUESTENBERG.

Talk even so? One runs into the other.
The boldness of this worthy officer,

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Well, let us go.-Ho! Colonel Butler, come.
[TO OCTAVIO.

You 'Il not forget, that yet ere noon we meet

Yes, yes! your travelling bills soon found their way to us: The noble Envoy at the General's palace.
Too well I know we have still accounts to settle.

ILLO.

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[Exeunt all but QUESTENBERG and OCTAVIO.

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I know a spell that will soon dispossess

The evil spirit in him.

Their little army faithful to its duty, And daily it becomes more numerous.

QUESTENBERG (walking up and down in evident disquiet). Nor can he take us by surprise: you know

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 splendour of the throne.
We had not seen the War-chief, the Commander,

The man all-powerful in his camp. Here, here, 'T is quite another thing.

Here is no Emperor more-the Duke is Emperor. Alas, my friend! alas, my noble friend!

This walk which you have ta'en me through the Strikes my hopes prostrate.

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camp

Now you see yourself
Of what a perilous kind the office is,
Which you deliver to me from the Court.
The least suspicion of the General

Costs me my freedom and my life, and would
But hasten his most desperate enterprise.

QUESTENBERG.

Where was our reason sleeping when we trusted
This madman with the sword, and placed such power
In such a hand? I tell you, he'll refuse,
Flatly refuse, to obey the Imperial orders.
Friend, he can do 't, and what he can, he will.
And then the impunity of his defiance-
Oh! what a proclamation of our weakness!

OCTAVIO.

D'ye think too, he has brought his wife and daughter
Without a purpose hither? Here in camp!
And at the very point of time, in which
We're arming for the war? That he has taken
These, the last pledges of his loyalty,
Away from out the Emperor's domains-
This is no doubtful token of the nearness
Of some eruption!

QUESTENBERG.

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!

OCTAVIO.

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

I hold him all encompass'd by my listeners. Whate'er he does, is mine, even while 't is doingNo step so small, but instantly I hear it;

Yea, his own mouth discloses it.

QUESTENBERG.

'T is quite

Incomprehensible, that he detects not The foe so near!

OCTAVIO.

Beware, you do not think, That I by lying arts, and complaisant Hypocrisy, have skulked into his graces: Or with the substance of smooth professions Nourish his all-confiding friendship! NoCompell'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! QUESTENBERG.

It is the visible ordinance of Heaven.

OCTAVIO.

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 habit,
Adventurous deeds performed 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
Ilis heart rose on me, and his confidence
Shot out in sudden growth. It was the morning
Before the meinorable fight at Lützner.
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. QUESTENBERG.

You lead your son into the secret?

OCTAVIO.

No!

QUESTENBERG.

What! and not warn him either what bad hands His lot has placed him in?

OCTAVIO.

I must perforce

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 honour'd friend! most highly do I deem
Of Colonel Piccolomini-yet-if--
Reflect a little--

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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.
[Taking the hands of both.

Octavio-Max. Piccolomini!
O saviour 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.

MAX.

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 us-
I must not be beforehand with my comrades.
OCTAVIO (to MAX.).

He comes from court, where people are not quite So well contented with the Duke, as here.

MAX.

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.
Ileaven 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 fixed 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.

The army? Doubtless!

QUESTENBERG.

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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
And partnership of free power with free will.
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 it
reaches.

My son! the road, the human being travels,
That, on which BLESSING comes and goes, doth follow
The river's course, the valley's playful windings,
Curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines,
Honouring the holy bounds of property!
And thus secure, though late, leads to its end.

QUESTENBERG.

O hear your father, noble youth! hear him, Who is at once the hero and the man.

OCTAVIO.

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
An 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
The whole scene moves and bustles momently,
With arms, and neighing steeds, and mirth and quarrel
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.

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