Wal. Thou art describing thy own father's heart.
The adder! O, the charms of hell o'erpower'd me.

He dwelt within me, to my inmost soul
Still to and fro he pass'd, suspected never!
On the wide ocean, in the starry heaven
Did mine eyes seek the enemy, whom I
In my heart's heart had folded! Had I been
To Ferdinand what Octavio was to me,
War had I ne'er denounc'd against him. No,
I never could have done it. The Emp'ror was
My austere master only, not my friend.
There was already war 'twixt him and me,
When he deliver'd the commander's staff
Into my hands; for there's a natural,
Unceasing war 'twixt cunning and suspicion;

Peace exists only betwixt confidence

And faith. Who poisons confidence, he murders
The future generations.

Max.

I will not

Defend my father. Woe is me, I cannot !

Hard deeds and luckless have ta'en place; one crime
Drags after it the other in close link.

But we are innocent: how have we fallen

Wal. Thou art portraying thy father's heart; as thou describest even so is it shaped in his entrails, in this black hypocrite's breast. O, the art of hell has deceiv'd me! The abyss sent up to me the most spotted of the spirits, the most skilful in lies, and placed him as a friend at my side. Who may withstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to my bosom, with my heart's blood I nourished him; he sucked himself glut-full at the breasts of my love. I never harboured evil towards him; wide open did I leave the door of my thoughts; I threw away the key of wise foresight. In the starry heaven, &c.

We find a difficulty in believing this to have been written by Schiller.

Into this circle of mishap and guilt?

To whom have we been faithless? Wherefore must
The evil deeds and guilt reciprocal

Of our two fathers, twine like serpents round us?

Why must our fathers'

Unconquerable hate rend us asunder,

Who love each other?

Wal.

Max., remain with me.

Go you not from me, Max! Hark! I will tell thee—
How when at Prague, our winter quarters, thou
Wert brought into my tent a tender boy,

Not yet accustom'd to the German winters;
Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colours;
Thou would'st not let them go-

At that time did I take thee in my arms,
And with my mantle did I cover thee:

I was thy nurse, no woman could have been
A kinder to thee; I was not asham'd
To do for thee all little offices,

However strange to me; I tended thee

Till life return'd; and when thine eyes first open'd,
I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have I
Alter'd my feelings towards thee? Many thousands
Have I made rich, presented them with lands;
Rewarded them with dignities and honours;
Thee have I lov'd: my heart, my self, I gave
To thee! They all were aliens: Thou wert

Our child and inmate.* Max.! Thou can'st not leave me;

This is a poor and inadequate translation of the affectionate simplicity of the original

Sie alle waren Fremdlinge, Du warst

Das Kind des Hauses.

Indeed the whole speech is in the best style of Massinger. O si sic omnia!

It cannot be; I may not, will not think

That Max. can leave me.

Мах.

Wal.

O my God!
I have

Held and sustain'd thee from thy tott'ring childhood.
What holy bond is there of natural love?

What human tie, that does not knit thee to me?
I love thee, Max.! What did thy father for thee,
Which I too have not done to the height of duty?
Go hence, forsake me, serve thy Emperor;

He will reward thee with a pretty chain

Of gold; with his ram's fleece will he reward thee;
For that the friend, the father of thy youth,
For that the holiest feeling of humanity,

Was nothing worth to thee.

Мах.

O God! How can I

Do otherwise? Am I not forc'd to do it?

My oath-my duty-honour

Wal.

How? Thy duty?

Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max.! bethink thee What duties may'st thou have? If I am acting

A criminal part toward the Emperor,

It is my crime, not thine. Dost thou belong

To thine own self? Art thou thine own commander?
Stand'st thou, like me, a freeman in the world,
That in thy actions thou shouldst plead free agency?
On me thou'rt planted; I am thy Emperor:

To obey me, to belong to me, this is

Thy honour, this a law of nature to thee!
And if the planet, on the which thou liv'st

And hast thy dwelling, from its orbit starts,
It is not in thy choice, whether or no
Thou'lt follow it. Unfelt it whirls thee onward
Together with his ring and all his moons.

With little guilt stepp'st thou into this contest;
Thee will the world not censure, it will praise thee,
For that thou held'st thy friend more worth to thee
Than names and influences more remov'd.

For justice is the virtue of the ruler,
Affection and fidelity the subject's.
Not every one doth it beseem to question
The far-off high Arcturus. Most securely
Wilt thou pursue the nearest duty-let
The pilot fix his eye upon the pole-star.

SCENE VII.

To these enter Neumann.

Wal. What now?

Neu.

The Pappenheimers are dismounted,

And are advancing now on foot, determin'd,

With sword in hand, to storm the house, and free

The Count, their colonel.

Wal. (to Tertsky)

I will receive them with chain-shot.

Have the cannon planted.

[Exit Tertsky.

Prescribe to me with sword in hand! Go, Neumann!

'Tis my command that they retreat this moment, And in their ranks in silence wait my pleasure.

[Neumann exit. Illo steps to the window. Coun. Let him go, I entreat thee, let him go. Illo. (at the window) Hell and perdition!

Wal.

What is it?

Illo. They scale the council-house, the roof's uncover'd, They level at this house the cannon

Мах

Madmen!

Illo. They are making preparations now to fire on us. Duch. and Coun. Merciful Heaven!

Max. (to Wallenstein)

Wal.

Let me go to them!

Not a step!

Max. (pointing to Thekla and the Duchess) But their Thine!

Wal.

life!

What tidings bring'st thou, Tertsky?

SCENE VIII.

To these Tertsky (returning).

Ter. Message and greeting from our faithful reg'ments. Their ardour may no longer be curb'd in.

They entreat permission to commence th' attack,
And if thou would'st but give the word of onset,

They could now charge the enemy in rear,
Into the city wedge them, and with ease

O'erpower them in the narrow streets.

Let not their ardour cool. The soldiery
Of Butler's corps stand by us faithfully;

We are the greater number. Let us charge them,
And finish here in Pilsen the revolt.

Wal.

What? shall this town become a field of slaughter,

And brother-killing discord, fire-eyed,

Be let loose through its streets to roam and rage?
Shall the decision be deliver'd over

To deaf remorseless rage, that hears no leader?
Here is not room for battle, only for butchery.