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Of such a distant, distant time, and not
Of the tomorrow, not of this to-day.

Max. (turning round to him quick and vehement)
Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna ?
I will deal openly with you, Questenberg.
Just now, as first I saw you standing here,
.(I'll own it to you freely) indignation
Crowded and press'd my inmost soul together.
'Tis ye that hinder peace, ye!—and the warrior,
It is the warrior that must force it from you.
Ye fret the General's life out, blacken him,
Hold him up as a rebel, and Heaven knows
What else still worse, because he spares the Saxons,
And tries to awaken confidence in th' enemy;
Which yet's the only way to peace : for if .
War intermit not during war, how then
And whence can peace come ?-Your own plagues fall on

you ! Even as I love what's virtuous, hate I you. And here make I this vow, here pledge myself; My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein, And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere ye Shall revel and dance jubilee o'er his ruin. [Exit.

Scene V.

Questenberg, Octavio Piccolomini.

Ques. Alas, alas ! and stands it so?

(then in pressing and impatient tone) What, friend ! and do we let him go away In this delusion-let him go away?

Not call him back immediately, not open
His eyes upon the spot ?
Oct. (recovering himself out of a deep study)

He has now open'd mine,
And I see more than pleases me.
Ques.

What is it?
Oct. Curse on this journey!
Ques.

But why so ? What is it?
Oct. Come, come along, friend! I must follow up
The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes
Are open'd now, and I must use them. Come !

(draws Questenberg on with him) Ques. What now? Where go you then ? Oct.

To her herself.
Ques To-
Oct. (interrupting him, and correcting himself) To the

Duke. Come, let us go.—'Tis done, 'tis done!
I see the net that is thrown over him.
O! he returns not to me as he went.

Ques. Nay, but explain yourself.

Oct. And that I should not
Foresee it, not prevent this journey! Wherefore
Did I keep it from him ?-You were in the right.
I should have warn’d him! Now it is too late.

Ques. But what's too late ? Bethink yourself, my friend,
That you are talking absolute riddles to me.
Oct. (more collected) Come !—to the Duke's. 'Tis

close upon the hour Which he appointed you for audience. Come! A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey!

(He leads Questenberg off.)

Scene VI.

Changes to a spacious chamber in the house of the Duke of

Friedland.-Servants employed in putting the tables and chairs in order. During this enters Seni, like an old Italian doctor, in black, and clothed somewhat fantastically. He carries a white staff, with which he marks out the quarters of the heaven.

1st. Ser. Come-to it lads, to it! Make an end of it. I hear the sentry call out, “ Stand to your arms !” They will be there in a minute.

2nd. Ser. Why were we not told before that the audience would be held here ? Nothing prepared—no orders-no instructions

3rd. Ser. Ay, and why was the balcony-chamber countermanded ; that with the great worked carpet ?-there one can look about one.

1st. Ser. Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. He says it is an unlucky chamber.

2nd. Ser. Poh! stuff and nonsense ! That's what I call a hum. A chamber is a chamber; what much can the place signify in the affair ? Seni (with gravity,) My son, there's nothing insignifi

cant, Nothing! But yet in every earthly thing First and most principal is place and time.

1st. Ser. (to the Second,) Say nothing to him, Nat. The Duke himself must let him have his own will. Seni (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low

voice, till he comes to eleven, which he repeats.) Eleven! an evil number ! Set twelve chairs.

Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac: five and seven,
The holy numbers, include themselves in twelve.

2nd. Ser. And what may you have to object against eleven? I should like to know that, now.

Seni. Eleven is-transgression ; eleven oversteps The ten commandments.

2nd. Ser. That's good! and why do you call five a holy number?

Seni. Five is the soul of man: for even as man
Is mingled up of good and evil, so
The five is the first number that's made up
Of even and odd.

2nd. Ser. The foolish old coxcomb!

1st. Ser. Ay! let him alone though. I like to hear him ; there is more in his words than can be seen at first sight.

3rd. Ser. Off! They come. 2nd. Ser. There ! Out at the side door. (They hurry off, Seni follows slowly. A page brings

the staff of command on a red cushion, and places it on the table near the Duke's chair. They are announced from without, and the wings of the door fly open.)

SCENE VII.

Wallenstein, Duchess.

Wal. You went then through Vienna, were presented To the Queen of Hungary?

Duch. Yes; and to the Empress too ;
And by both Majesties were we admitted
To kiss the hand.

Wal.

And how was it receiv'd,
That I had sent for wife and daughter hither
To the camp, in winter time?
Duch.

I did even that
Which you commission'd me to do. I told them,
You had determin’d on our daughter's marriage,
And wish'd, ere yet you went into the field,
To show th' elected husband his betroth'd.

Wal. And did they guess the choice which I had made ?

Duch. They only hop'd and wish'd it may have fallen Upon no foreign nor yet Lutheran noble.

Wal. And you—what do you wish, Elizabeth ?
Duch. Your will, you know, was always mine.

Wal. (after a pause). Well then!
And in all else, of what kind and complexion
Was your reception at the court ?
(The Duchess casts her eyes on the ground, and remains

silent).
Hide nothing from me. How were you receiv'd ?

Duch. O! my dear lord, all is not what it was.
A cankerworm, my lord, a cankerworm
Has stolen into the bud.
Wal.

Ay! is it so?
What, they were lax ? they fail'd of th' old respect ?

Duch. Not of respect. No honours were omitted,
No outward courtesy; but in the place
Of condescending, confidential kindness,
Familiar and endearing, there were given me
Only these honours and that solemn courtesy.
Ah! and the tenderness which was put on,
It was the guise of pity, not of favour.
No! Albrecht's wife, Duke Albrecht's princely wife,
Count Harrach's noble daughter, should not so-
Not wholly so should she have been receiv'd.

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