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?

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,

Wel. Yes, yes; they have ta'en offence. My latest

conduct,

They rail'd at it, no doubt.

Duch.

O that they had!

I have been long accustom'd to defend you,

To heal and pacify distemper'd spirits.

No; no one rail'd at you. They wrapp'd them up,
O Heaven! in such oppressive, solemn silence !—
Here is no every-day misunderstanding,

No transient pique, no cloud that passes over ;
Something most luckless, most unhealable,
Has taken place. The Queen of Hungary
Us'd formerly to call me her dear aunt,

And ever at departure to embrace me

Wal. Now she omitted it?

Duch. (wiping away her tears, after a pause.) She did embrace me,

But then first when I had already taken

My formal leave, and when the door already

Had clos'd upon me, then did she come out

In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,
And press'd me to her bosom, more with anguish
Than with tenderness.

Wal. (seizes her hand soothingly.) Nay now, collect yourself.

And what of Eggenberg and Lichtenstein,

And of our other friends there?

Duch. (shaking her head). I saw none.

Wal. Th' Ambassador from Spain, who once was wont To plead so warmly for me?—

Duch.

Silent, silent!

Wal. These suns then are eclipsed for us. Hencefor

ward

Must we roll on, our own fire, our own light.

Duch. And were it—were it, my dear lord, in that
Which mov'd about the Court in buz and whisper,
But in the country let itself be heard

Aloud-in that which Father Lamormain
In sundry hints and

Wal. (eagerly).

Lamormain! what said he?

Duch. That you're accused of having daringly
O'erstepp'd the power entrusted to you, charg'd
With traitorous contempt of th' Emperor
And his supreme behests. The proud Bavarian,
He and the Spaniards stand np your accusers.—
That there's a storm collecting over you,

Of far more fearful menace than that former one
Which whirl'd you headlong down at Regensburg.
And people talk, said he, of·

Wal.

Duch. I cannot utter it!

Ah!

(stifling extreme emotion,) Proceed!

(Strides across the chamber in vehement agitation).

O! they force, they thrust me

With violence, against my own will, onward!

Duch. (presses near to him, in entreaty.) O! if there yet be time, my husband! If

By giving way and by submission, this

Can be averted-my dear lord, give way!

Win down your proud heart to it! Tell that heart,
It is your sovereign lord, your Emperor
Before whom you retreat. O let no longer
Low tricking malice blacken your good meaning
With abhor'd venomous glosses. Stand you up,
Shielded and helm'd and weapon'd with the truth,
And drive before you into uttermost shame
These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have we.
You know it! The swift growth of our good fortune
It hath but set us up, a mark for hatred.

What are we, if the sovereign's grace and favour
Stand not before us!

SCENE VIII.

Enter the Countess Tertsky, leading in her hand the Princess Thekla, richly adorned with brilliants.

Countess, Thekla, Wallenstein, Duchess.

Coun. How sister? What already upon business, (observing the countenance of the Duchess,)

And business of no pleasing kind I see,

Ere he has gladden'd at his child. The first

Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!
This is thy daughter.

(Thekla approaches with a shy and timid air, and bends herself as about to kiss his hand, he receives her in his arms, and remains standing for some time lost in the feeling of her presence.)

Wal. Yes; pure and lovely hath hope risen on me;

I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.

Duch. 'Twas but a little child when you departed