At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion.
And this same man, against whom I am warn'd,
This honest man is he, who reaches to me

The first pledge of my fortune.

Illo.

And doubt not

That his example will win over to you

The best men in the army.

Wal.

Go and send

Isolani hither. Send him immediately.
He is under recent obligations to me.

With him will I commence the trial. Go.

[Illo Exit.

Wal. (turns himself round to the females) Lo, there the mother with the darling daughter,

For once we'll have an interval of rest

Come! my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour

In the beloved circle of my family.

Coun. 'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother. Wal. (to the Countess, aside,) Can she sustain the news? Is she prepar'd?

Coun. Not yet.

Wal. Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me. For there is a good spirit on thy lips.

Thy mother prais'd to me thy ready skill;

She says a voice of melody dwells in thee,

Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice

Will drive away for me the evil demon

That beats his black wings close above my head.

Duch. Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father

Hear some small trial of thy skill.

I

Thek.

My mother!

Duch. Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer Thy father.

Thek.

O my mother! I—I cannot.

Coun. How, what is that, niece?

Thek. (to the Countess) O spare me-sing-now—in this sore anxiety,

Of the o'erburthen'd soul-to sing to him,

Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong

Into her grave.

Duch.

How, Thekla? Humoursome?

What! shall thy father have express'd a wish

In vain?

Coun. Thek.

Here is the lute.

My God! how can I— (The orchestra plays. During the ritornello, Thekla

expresses, in her gestures and countenance, the struggle of her feelings; and at the moment that she should begin to sing, contracts herself together, as one shuddering, throws the instrument down, and retires abruptly.)

Duch. My child! O she is ill—

What ails the maiden?

Wal.

Say, is she often so?

Coun.

Since, then, herself

Has now betray'd it, I too must no longer

Duch. Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart? God's blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou needst Never take shame upon thee for thy choice.

Coun. This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it To thine own self. Thou should'st have chosen another To have attended her.

Wal.

And does he know it?

Coun. Yes, and he hopes to win her.

Ay? The thought pleases me.

The young man has no grovelling spirit.

Coun.

Since

Such and such constant favour you have shown him. Wal. He chooses finally to be my heir.

And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honour him. But must he, therefore, be my daughter's husband? Is it daughters only? Is it only children

That we must show our favour by?

Duch. His noble disposition and his manners-
Wal. Win him my heart, but not my daughter.
Duch.

His rank, his ancestors

Wal.

Then

Ancestors! What?

He is a subject; and my son-in-law

I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe.

Duch. O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high, Lest we should fall too low.

Wal.

What? have I paid

A price so heavy to ascend this eminence,

And jut out high above the common herd,
Only to close the mighty part I play

In life's great drama, with a common kinsman ?
Have I for this-

(stops suddenly, repressing himself.)

She is the only thing

That will remain behind of me on earth;

And I will see a crown around her head,
Or die in the attempt to place it there
I hazard all-all! and for this alone,
To lift her into greatness-

Yea, in this moment, in the which we are speaking—
(he recollects himself.)

And I must now, like a soft-hearted father,

Couple together in good peasant fashion

The pair, that chance to suit each other's liking—
And I must do it now, even now, when I

Am stretching out the wreath, that is to twine
My full accomplish'd work-no! she is the jewel,
Which I have treasur'd long, my last, my noblest,
And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me

For less than a king's sceptre.

Duch.

O my husband! You're ever building, building to the clouds, Still building higher, and still higher building, And ne'er reflect, that the poor narrow basis Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column.

Wal. (to the Countess) Have you announc'd the place of residence

Which I have destin'd for her?

Coun.

No! not yet.

No.

'Twere better, you yourself disclos'd it to her.
Duch. How? Do we not return to Kärn then?
Wal.
Duch. And to no other of your lands or seats?
Wal. You would not be secure there.

Duch.

Not secure.

In the Emperor's realms, beneath the Emperor's
Protection?

Wal.

Friedland's wife may be permitted

No longer to hope that.

What? And you send us into Lutheran countries ?
Wal. Duke Franz, of Lauenburg, conducts you thither.
Duch. Duke Franz of Lauenberg?

The ally of Sweden, the Emperor's enemy.

Wal. The Emperor's enemies are mine no longer. Duch. (casting a look of terror on the Duke and the Countess.)

Is it then true? It is. You are degraded?

Depos'd from the command? O God in heaven!
Coun. (aside to the Duke) Leave her in this belief.
Thou seest she cannot

Support the real truth.

SCENE V.

Coun.

To them enter Count Tertsky.

-Tertsky!

What ails him? What an image of affright!

He looks as he had seen a ghost.

Ter. (leading Wallenstein aside) Is it thy command

Wal.

that all the Croats

Ter. We are betray'd.

Wal.

Ter.

The Jägers likewise-all the villages
In the whole round are empty.