полная версия

Фридрих Шиллер
The Death of Wallenstein

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 ordered you. Send round patrols,
  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,
  To-morrow 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 unarmed into our hands,
  And from their drunken dream of golden fortunes
  The dagger at their hearts 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 made no conscience of
  Still calculating, calculating still;
  And yet at last his calculation proves
  Erroneous; the whole game is lost; and low!
  His own life will be found among the forfeits.
 

GORDON

 
  Oh, 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 occurrences of many events
  Control and subjugate me to the office.
  In vain the human being meditates
  Free action. He is but the wire-worked⁸ 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
  Bedewed with blood – his blood? Believe it not!
 

BUTLER

 
  You know not. Ask not! Wherefore should it happen
  That the Swedes gained the victory, and hasten
  With such forced marches hitherwards? 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 dishonored if the duke escape us.
 

GORDON

 
  Oh! 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 of but 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 stationed
  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.

BUTLER⁹ (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 warped;
  I stand beside him, and must feel myself
  The worst 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.

WALLENSTEIN

 
  How knew she it so soon?
 

COUNTESS

 
               She seems to have
  Foreboded some misfortune. The report
  Of an engagement, in which had fallen
  A colonel of the imperial army, frightened 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, hastened 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, cheerly, 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 uttered
  That word of misery.
 

DUCHESS

 
             Oh, think not of it!
  My Thekla!
 

WALLENSTEIN

 
        Give her sorrow leave to talk!
  Let her complain – mingle your tears with hers,
  For she hath suffered 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 alarmed 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.
 

WALLENSTEIN

 
  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 overpowered me by surprise,
  My heart betrayed 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.
 

WALLENSTEIN

 
  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 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 the woman, but the heroine.
 

[Going.

COUNTESS (detaining him)

 
  Where art thou going? I heard Terzky say
  That 'tis thy purpose to depart from hence
  To-morrow early, but to leave us here.
 

WALLENSTEIN

 
  Yes, ye stay here, placed under the protection
  Of gallant men.
 

COUNTESS

 
           Oh, 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.
 

WALLENSTEIN

 
  Who speaks of evil? I entreat you, sister,
  Use words of better omen.
 

COUNTESS

 
                Then take us with you.
  Oh 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 churchyard 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!
 

WALLENSTEIN

 
  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.
 

WALLENSTEIN

 
  Leave her alone with me.
 

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! —
 

THEKLA (with dignity)

 
  You have beheld me in my agony.
  A most distressful accident occasioned
  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,
  Intrenched but insecurely in our camp,
  When towards 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 leaped the trenches; but their heedless courage
  Had borne them onward far before the others —
  The infantry were still at distance, only
  The Pappenheimers followed 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
  Stretched 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 called 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 leaped first: the regiment all plunged after.
  His charger, by a halbert gored, reared 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.

NEUBRUNN

 
  My dearest lady!
 

CAPTAIN

 
           I retire.
 

THERLA

 
                 '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
  Finished 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
  Followed the bier. A laurel decked 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 wished 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!
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  What would you do there?
 

THEKLA

 
               What do there?
  That wouldst thou not have asked, hadst thou e'er loved.
  There, that is all that still remains of him!
  That single spot is the whole earth to me.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  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.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  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.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  And we alone, two helpless, feeble women?
 

THEKLA

 
  We will take weapons: my arm shall protect thee.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  In the dark night-time?
 

THEKLA

 
               Darkness will conceal us.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  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, travelling to a distant shrine
  Of hope and healing doth not count the leagues.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  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.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  And where procure we horses for our flight?
 

THEKLA

 
  My equerry procures them. Go and fetch him.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  Dares he, without the knowledge of his lord?
 

THEKLA

 
  He will. Go, only go. Delay no longer.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  Dear lady! and your mother?
 

THEKLA

 
                 Oh! my mother!
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  So much as she has suffered 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.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  And being there, what purpose you to do?
 

THEKLA

 
  There a divinity will prompt my soul.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  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.
  Oh 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!
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  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 offered 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. Oh, my only hope;
  To die beneath the hoofs of trampling steeds —
  That is a lot of heroes upon earth!
 

[Exit THEKLA.¹⁰

(The Curtain drops.)

SCENE XIII

THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN, and ROSENBERG.

NEUBRUNN

 
  He is here, lady, and he will procure them.
 

THEKLA

 
  Wilt thou provide us horses, Rosenberg?
 

ROSENBERG

 
  I will, my lady.
 

THEKLA

 
           And go with us as well?
 

ROSENBERG

 
  To the world's end, my lady.
 

THEKLA

 
                 But consider,
  Thou never canst return unto the duke.
 

ROSENBERG

 
  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?
 

ROSENBERG

 
  I can.
 

THEKLA

 
      When can I go?
 

ROSENBERG

 
              This very hour.
  But whither would you, lady?
 

THEKLA

 
                 To – Tell him, Neubrunn.
 

NEUBRUNN

 
  To Neustadt.
 

ROSENBERG

 
         So; I leave you to get ready.
 

[Exit.

NEUBRUNN

 
  Oh, see, your mother comes.
 

THEKLA

 
                 Indeed! O Heaven!
 

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 despatch them both.
  The castle-palace is well barred 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.
  Despatch! then, be the word; for enemies
  Threaten us from without and from within.