Deceit is every where, hypocrisy,
Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury:
The single holy spot is now our love,
The only unprofaned in human nature.
Oct. Max. !-we will go together. 'Twill be better.
Max. What? ere I've taken a last parting leave,
The very last-no, never!

Spare thyself

Oct.
The pang of necessary separation.
Come with me! Come, my son !

[Attempts to take him with him.

Max. No! as sure as God lives, no!

Oct. [more urgently.] Come with me, I command thee! I,

thy father.

Max. Command me what is human. I stay here.
Oct. Max. in the Emperor's name I bid thee come.
Max. No Emperor has power to prescribe

Laws to the heart! and would'st thou wish to rob me
Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me,
Her sympathy. Must then a cruel deed
Be done with cruelty? The unalterable
Shall I perform ignobly-steal away,

With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No!
She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish,
Hear the complaints of the disparted soul,
And weep tears o'er me. Oh the human race
Have steely souls-but she is as an angel.
From the black deadly madness of despair
Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words

Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death!

Oct. Thou wilt not tear thyself away; thou canst not.

O, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue.

Max. Squander not thou thy words in vain.

The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it.

Oct. [trembling and losing all self-command.] Max.! Max.! if that most damned thing could be,

If thou-my son-my own blood-(dare I think it?)

Do sell thyself to him, the infamous,

Do stamp this brand upon our noble house,

Then shall the world behold the horrible deed,

And in unnatural combat shall the steel

Of the son trickle with the father's blood.

Max. O hadst thou always better thought of men, Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion ! Unholy miserable doubt! To him

Nothing on earth remains unwrenched and firm,

Who has no faith.

Oct.

And if I trust thy heart,

Will it be always in thy power to follow it?

Max. The heart's voice thou hast not o'erpower'd-as little

Will Wallenstein be able to o'erpower it.

Oct. O, Max.! I see thee never more again!

Max. Unworthy of thee wilt thou never see me.
C.t. I go to Frauenberg-the Pappenheimers
I leave thee here, the Lothrings too; Toskana
And Tiefenbach remain here to protect thee.
They love thee, and are faithful to their oath,
And will far rather fall in gallant contest
Than leave their rightful leader, and their honour
Max. Rely on this, I either leave my life
In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen.
Oct. Farewell, my son!

Mix.

Oct.

Farewell!

How? not one look

Of filial love? No grasp of th' hand at parting?
It is a bloody war, to which we are going,
And the event uncertain and in darkness.
So used we not to part-it was not so!

Is it then true, I have a son no longer?

(MAX. falls into his arms; they hold each for a long time in a speechless embrace, then go away at different sides.]

WALLENSTEIN, Duke of Friedland, Generalissimo of the Imperial
Forces in the Thirty Years' War.

DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND, Wife of Wallenstein.
THEKLA, her Daughter, Princess of Friedland.
THE COUNTESS TERTSKY, Sister of the Duchess.
LADY NEUBRUNN.

OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, Lieutenant-General.

MAX. PICCOLOMINI, his Son, Colonel of a Regiment of Cuirassiers.
COUNT TERTSKY, the Commander of several Regiments, and
Brother-in-Law of Wallenstein.

ILLO, Field-Marshal, Wallenstein's Confidant.

BUTLER, an Irishman, Commander of a Regiment of Dragoons.
GORDON, Governor of Egra.

MAJOR GERALDIN.

CAPTAIN DEVEREUX.

CAPTAIN MACDONALD.

NEUMANN, Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp to Tertsky.

SWEDISH CAPTAIN.

SCENE I.-A Chamber in the House of the DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND. COUNTESS TERTSKY, THEKLA, LADY NEUBrunn. (The two latter sit at the same table at work.)

Coun. [watching them from the opposite side.] So you have
nothing, niece, to ask me? Nothing?

I have been waiting for a word from you.
And could you then endure in all this time
Not once to speak his name?

Z

[THEKLA remaining silent, the COUNTESS rises and advances to her.

Why comes this?

Perhaps I am already grown superfluous,

And other ways exist, besides through me?

Confess it to me, Thekla! have you seen him?
Thek. To-day and yesterday I have not seen him.

Coun. And not heard from him either? Come, be open!
Thek. No syllable.

Coun

Thek. I am.

And still you are so calm?

Coun. May't please you, leave us, Lady Neubrunn !

[Exit LADY Neubrunn.

SCENE II.-The COUNTESS, THEKLA.

Coun. It does not please me, Princess! that he holds
Himself so still, exactly at this time.

Thek. Exactly at this time?
Coun

He now knows all.

'Twere now the moment to declare himself.

Thek. If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly. Coun. 'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us. Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart

Is now no more in nonage: for you love,

And boldness dwells with love that you have proved.
Your nature moulds itself upon your father's

More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you
Hear, what were too much for her fortitude.

Thek. Enough! no further preface, I entreat you.
At once out with it! Be it what it may,

It is not possible that it should torture me
More than this introduction. What have you
To say to me? Tell me the whole and briefly!
Coun. You'll not be frightened—

Name it, I entreat you.

Thek.
Coun. It lies within your power to do your father
A weighty service-

Thek.

Lies within my power? Coun. Max. Piccolomini loves you.

Indissolubly to your father.

Thek.

What need of me for that?
Already linked to him?

Coun.

Thek.

You can link him

I?

And is he not

He was.

And wherefore

Not more than duty

We ask

Should he not be so now-not be so always?
Coun. He cleaves to th' Emperor too.
Thek.

And honour may demand of him.

Coun.

Proofs of his love, and not proofs of his honour.

Duty and honour!

Those are ambiguous words with many meanings.
You should interpret them for him : his love
Should be the sole definer of his honour.
Thek. How?
Coun.

Th' Emperor or you must he renounce.
Thek. He will accompany my father gladly
In his retirement. From himself you heard,
How much he wished to lay aside the sword.
Coun. He must not lay the sword aside, we mean;
He must unsheath it in your father's cause.

Thek. He'll spend with gladness and alacrity
His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause,
If shame or injury be intended him.

Coun. You will not understand me. Well, hear then! Your father has fallen off from the Emperor, And is about to join the enemy

With the whole soldiery

Thek.

Alas, my mother!

Coun. There needs a great example to draw on
The army after him. The Piccolomini

Possess the love and reverence of the troops;
They govern all opinions, and wherever
They lead the way, none hesitate to follow.
The son secures the father to our interests-
You've much in your hands at this moment.
Thek.

Ah,

My miserable mother! what a death-stroke
Awaits thee!-No! She never will survive it.
Coun. She will accommodate her soul to that
Which is and must be. I do know your mother.
The far-off future weighs upon her heart
With torture of anxiety; but is it
Unalterably, actually present,

She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly.
Thek. O my foreboding bosom! Even now,

E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror!

And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp;
I knew it well-no sooner had I entered,

A heavy ominous presentiment

Revealed to me, that spirits of death were hovering

Over my happy fortune. But why think I

First of myself? My mother! O my mother!

Coun. Calm yourself! Break not out in vain lamenting! Preserve you for your father the firm friend,

And for yourself the lover, all will yet

Prove good and fortunate.

Thek.

Prove good? What good?

Must we not part? Part ne'er to meet again?

Coun. He parts not from you. He can not part from you. Thek. Alas for his sore anguish! It will rend

His heart asunder.