The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 185

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 despatch 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.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Scene as in the preceding Act.

WALLENSTEIN, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI.

WALLENSTEIN (coming forward in conversation).

He sends me word from Linz that he lies sick; But I have sure intelligence that he Secretes himself at Frauenberg with Gallas.

Secure them both, and send them to me hither.

Remember, thou takest on thee the command Of those same Spanish regiments,--constantly Make preparation, and be never ready; And if they urge thee to draw out against me, Still answer yes, and stand as thou went fettered.

I know, that it is doing thee a service To keep thee out of action in this business.

Thou lovest to linger on in fair appearances; Steps of extremity are not thy province, Therefore have I sought out this part for thee.

Thou wilt this time be of most service to me By thy inertness. The meantime, if fortune Declare itself on my side, thou wilt know What is to do.

[Enter MAX. PICCOLOMINI.

Now go, Octavio.

This night must thou be off, take my own horses Him here I keep with me--make short farewell-- Trust me, I think we all shall meet again In joy and thriving fortunes.

OCTAVIO (to his son).

I shall see you Yet ere I go.

SCENE II.

WALLENSTEIN, MAX. PICCOLOMINI.

MAX. (advances to him).

My general!

WALLENSTEIN.

That I am no longer, if Thou stylest thyself the emperor's officer.

MAX.

Then thou wilt leave the army, general?

WALLENSTEIN.

I have renounced the service of the emperor.

MAX.

And thou wilt leave the army?

WALLENSTEIN.

Rather hope I To bind it nearer still and faster to me.

[He seats himself.

Yes, Max., I have delayed to open it to thee, Even till the hour of acting 'gins to strike.

Youth's fortunate feeling doth seize easily The absolute right, yea, and a joy it is To exercise the single apprehension Where the sums square in proof; But where it happens, that of two sure evils One must be taken, where the heart not wholly Brings itself back from out the strife of duties, There 'tis a blessing to have no election, And blank necessity is grace and favor.

This is now present: do not look behind thee,-- It can no more avail thee. Look thou forwards!

Think not! judge not! prepare thyself to act!

The court--it hath determined on my ruin, Therefore I will be beforehand with them.

We'll join the Swedes--right gallant fellows are they, And our good friends.

[He stops himself, expecting PICCOLOMINI's answer.

I have taken thee by surprise. Answer me not: I grant thee time to recollect thyself.

[He rises, retires to the back of the stage. MAX. remains for a long time motionless, in a trance of excessive anguish.

At his first motion WALLENSTEIN returns, and places himself before him.

MAX.

My general, this day thou makest me Of age to speak in my own right and person, For till this day I have been spared the trouble To find out my own road. Thee have I followed With most implicit, unconditional faith, Sure of the right path if I followed thee.

To-day, for the first time, dost thou refer Me to myself, and forcest me to make Election between thee and my own heart.

WALLENSTEIN.

Soft cradled thee thy fortune till to-day; Thy duties thou couldst exercise in sport, Indulge all lovely instincts, act forever With undivided heart. It can remain No longer thus. Like enemies, the roads Start from each other. Duties strive with duties, Thou must needs choose thy party in the war Which is now kindling 'twixt thy friend and him Who is thy emperor.

MAX.

War! is that the name?

War is as frightful as heaven's pestilence, Yet it is good, is it heaven's will as that is.

Is that a good war, which against the emperor Thou wagest with the emperor's own army?

O G.o.d of heaven! what a change is this.

Beseems it me to offer such persuasion To thee, who like the fixed star of the pole Wert all I gazed at on life's trackless ocean?

O! what a rent thou makest in my heart!

The ingrained instinct of old reverence, The holy habit of obediency, Must I pluck life asunder from thy name?

Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me-- It always was as a G.o.d looking upon me!

Duke Wallenstein, its power has not departed; The senses still are in thy bonds, although Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself.

WALLENSTEIN.

Max., hear me.

MAX.

Oh, do it not, I pray thee, do it not!

There is a pure and n.o.ble soul within thee, Knows not of this unblest unlucky doing.