LITMIR.BIZ

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remonstrant!

      Who not with empty names, or shows of proxy,

      Is served, who'll have the thing and not the symbol,

      Ever seeks out the greatest and the best,

      And at the rudder places him, e'en though

      She had been forced to take him from the rabble—

      She, this Necessity, it was that placed thee

      In this high office; it was she that gave thee

      Thy letters patent of inauguration.

      For, to the uttermost moment that they can,

      This race still help themselves at cheapest rate

      With slavish souls, with puppets! At the approach

      Of extreme peril, when a hollow image

      Is found a hollow image and no more,

      Then falls the power into the mighty hands

      Of Nature, of the spirit giant-born,

      Who listens only to himself, knows nothing

      Of stipulations, duties, reverences,

      And, like the emancipated force of fire,

      Unmaster'd scorches, ere it reaches them,

      Their fine-spun webs, their artificial policy.

      WALLENST.

      'Tis true! they saw me always as I am—

      Always! I did not cheat them in the bargain.

      I never held it worth my pains to hide

      The bold all-grasping habit of my soul.

      COUNTESS.

      Nay rather—thou hast ever shown thyself

      A formidable man, without restraint;

      Hast exercised the full prerogatives

      Of thy impetuous nature, which had been

      Once granted to thee. Therefore, Duke, not thou

      Who hast still remained consistent with thyself;

      But they are in the wrong, who fearing thee,

      Intrusted such a power in hand they fear'd.

      For, by the laws of Spirit, in the right

      Is every individual character

      That acts in strict consistence with itself.

      Self-contradiction is the only wrong.

      Wert thou another being, then, when thou

      Eight years ago pursuedst thy march with fire,

      And sword, and desolation, through the Circles

      Of Germany, the universal scourge,

      Didst mock all ordinances of the empire,

      The fearful rights of strength alone exertedst,

      Trampledst to earth each rank, each magistracy,

      All to extend thy Sultan's domination?

      Then was the time to break thee in, to curb

      Thy haughty will, to teach thee ordinance.

      But no, the Emperor felt no touch of conscience;

      What served him pleased him, and without a murmur

      He stamp'd his broad seal on these lawless deeds.

      What at that time was right, because thou didst it

      For him, today is all at once become

      Opprobrious, foul, because it is directed

      Against him.—O most flimsy superstition!

      WALLENSTEIN (rising).

      I never saw it in this light before;

      'Tis even so. The Emperor perpetrated

      Deeds through my arm, deeds most unorderly.

      And even this prince's mantle, which I wear,

      I owe to what were services to him,

      But most high misdemeanors 'gainst the empire.

      COUNTESS.

      Then betwixt thee and him (confess it Friedland!)

      The point can be no more of right and duty,

      Only of power and the opportunity.

      That opportunity, lo! it comes yonder

      Approaching with swift steeds; then with a swing

      Throw thyself up into the chariot-seat,

      Seize with firm hand the reins, ere thy opponent

      Anticipate thee, and himself make conquest

      Of the now empty seat. The moment comes;

      It is already here, when thou must write

      The absolute total of thy life's vast sum.

      The constellations stand victorious o'er thee,

      The planets shoot good fortune in fair junctions,

      And tell thee, "Now's the time!" The starry courses

      Hast thou thy life long measured to no purpose?

      The quadrant and the circle, were they play-things?

      [Pointing to the different objects in the room.]

      The zodiacs, the rolling orbs of heaven,

      Hast pictured on these walls, and all around thee

      In dumb, foreboding symbols hast thou placed

      These seven presiding Lords of Destiny—

      For toys? Is all this preparation nothing?

      Is there no marrow in this hollow art,

      That even to thyself it doth avail

      Nothing, and has no influence over thee

      In the great moment of decision?—

      WALLENSTEIN. (during this last speech walks up and down with inward struggles, laboring with passion; stops suddenly, stands still, then interrupting the COUNTESS).

      Send Wrangel to me—I will instantly

      Dispatch three couriers—

      ILLO (hurrying out).

      God in heaven be praised!

      WALLENST.

      It is his evil genius and mine.

      Our evil genius! It chastises him

      Through me, the instrument of his ambition;

      And I expect no less than that Revenge

      E'en now is whetting for my breast the poinard.

      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 dispatch immediately

      A servant for Octavio Piccolomini.

      [_To

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