Our best, our noblest, are assembled round you,
Their kinglike leader! On your nod they wait.
The single threads, which here your prosperous fortune
Hath woven together in one potent web
Instinct with destiny, O! let them not
Unravel of themselves. If you permit
These chiefs to separate so unanimous,
Bring you them not a second time together.
'Tis the high tide that heaves the stranded ship,
And every individual's spirit waxes
In the great stream of multitude. Behold,
They are still here, here still! But soon the war
Bursts them once more asunder, and in small
Particular anxieties and interests
Scatters their spirit, and the sympathy
Of each man with the whole. He, who to-day
Forgets himself, forc'd onward with the stream,
Will become sober, seeing but himself,
Feel only his own weakness, and with speed
Will face about, and march on in the old
High road of duty, the old broad-trodden road,
And seek but to make shelter in good plight.
Wal. The time is not yet come.
But when will it be time?
Illo. You'll wait on the stars, and on their hours, Till the earthly hour escapes you. O! believe me, In your own bosom are your destiny's stars. Confidence in yourself, prompt resolution, This is your Venus! and the sole malignant, The only one that harmeth you, is Doubt!
Wal. Thou speakest as thou understand'st. How oft And many time I've told thee, Jupiter,
That lustrous god, was setting at thy birth.
Thy visual power subdues no mysteries;
Mole ey'd, thou may'st but burrow in the earth,
Blind as that subterrestrial, who, with wan,
Lead-colour'd shine, lighted thee into life.
The common, the terrestrial, thou may'st see.
With serviceable cunning knit together,
The nearest with the nearest; and therein
I trust thee and believe thee! but whate'er
Full of mysterious import Nature waves,
And fashions in the depths-the spirit's ladder,
That from this gross and visible world of dust
Even to the starry world, with thousand rounds,
Builds itself up; on which the unseen pow'rs
Move up and down on heavenly ministeries-
The circles in the circles, that approach
The central sun with ever-narrowing orbit—
These see the glance alone, the unseal'd eye,
Of Jupiter's glad children born in lustre.
(He walks across the chamber, then returns,
standing, still proceeds),
The heavenly constellations make not merely
The day and night, summer and spring; not merely
Signify to the husbandman the seasons
Of sowing and of harvest. Human action,
That is the seed too of contingencies,
Strew'd on the dark land of futurity
In hopes to reconcile the powers of fate.
Whence it behoves us to seek out the seed-time,
To watch the stars, select their proper hours,
And trace with searching eye the heavenly houses,
Whether the enemy of growth and thriving,
Hide himself not, malignant, in his corner.
Therefore permit me my own time. Meanwhile
Do you your part. As yet I cannot say
What I shall do-only, give way I will not.
Depose me too they shall not. On these points
You may rely.
Page. (entering.) My Lords the Generals.
Wal. Let them come in.
SCENE XII.-WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY, ILLO.-To them enter QUESTENBERG, OCTAVIO, and MAX. PICCOLOMINI, BUTLER, ISOLANI, MARADAS, and three other Generals. Walenstein motions Questenberg, who, in consequence, takes the chair directly opposite to him, the others follow, arranging themselves according to their rank. There reigns a
Wal. I have understood, 'tis true, the sum and import
Of your instructions, Questenberg, have weigh'd them, And form'd my final, absolute resolve;
Yet it seems fitting, that the Generals
Should hear the will of th' Emperor from your mouth. May 't please you then to open your commission Before these noble Chieftains.
To obey you; but will first entreat your Highness,
And all these noble Chieftains, to consider,
Th' Imperial dignity and sov'reign right
Speaks from my mouth, and not my own presumption. Wal. We excuse all preface.
The Emperor to his courageous armies
Presented in the person of Duke Friedland
A most experienc'd and renown'd commander,
He did it in glad hope and confidence,
To give thereby to the fortune of war
A rapid and auspicious change. The onset
Was favourable to his royal wishes.
Bohemia was deliver'd from the Saxons,
The Swede's career of conquest check'd! These lands
Began to draw breath freely, as Duke Friedland
From all the streams of Germany fore'd hither
The scatter'd armies of the enemy,
Hither invok'd, as round one magic circle,
The Rhinegrave, Bernhard, Banner, Oxenstein,
Yea, and that never-conquer'd King himself;
Here finally before the eye of Nürnberg,
The fearful game of battle to decide.
Wal. May't please you, to the point.
Ques. In Nürnberg's camp the Swedish monarch left
His fame-in Lützen's plains his life. But who
Stood not astounded, when victorious Friedland
After this day of triumph, this proud day,
March'd toward Bohemia with the speed of flight,
And vanish'd from the theatre of war;
While the young Weimar hero forc'd his way
Into Franconia, to the Danube, like
Some delving winter stream, which, were it rushes,
Makes its own channel; with such sudden speed
He march'd, and now at once 'fore Regensburg
Stood to th' affright of all good Catholic Christians.
Then did Bavaria's well-deserving Prince
Entreat swift aidance in his extreme need;
The Emperor sends seven horsemen to Duke Friedland,
Seven horsemen couriers send he with th' entreaty:
He superadds his own, and supplicates,
Where as the sovereign lord he can command.
In vain his supplication! At this moment
The Duke hears only his old hate and grudge,
Barters the general good to gratify
Private revenge-and so falls Regensburg.
Wal. Max., to what period of the war alludes he? My recollection fails me here.
In that description which the minister gave
I seem'd to have forgotten the whole war.
(to Questenberg.)
Well, but proceed a little.
Beside the river Oder did the Duke
Assert his ancient fame. Upon the fields
Of Steinau did the Swedes lay down their arms,
Subdued without a blow. And here, with others,
The righteousness of Heaven to his avenger
Deliver'd that long-practis'd stirrer-up
Of insurrection, that curse-laden torch
And kindler of this war, Matthias Thur.
But he had fallen into magnanimous hands!
Instead of punishment he found reward,
And with rich presents did the Duke dismiss
The arch-foe of his Emperor.
I know you had already in Vienna,
Your windows and balconies all forestall'd
To see him on the executioner's cart.
I might have lost the battle, lost it too
With infamy, and still retain'd your graces—
But, to have cheated them of a spectacle,
Oh! that the good folks of Vienna never,
No, never can forgive me.
Was freed, and all things loudly call'd the Duke
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