The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 151

D'ye think, too, he has brought his wife and daughter Without a purpose hither? Here in camp!

And at the very point of time in which We're arming for the war? That he has taken These, the last pledges of his loyalty, Away from out the emperor's dominions-- This is no doubtful token of the nearness Of some eruption.

QUESTENBERG.

How shall we hold footing Beneath this tempest, which collects itself And threats us from all quarters? The enemy Of the empire on our borders, now already The master of the Danube, and still farther, And farther still, extending every hour!

In our interior the alarum-bells Of insurrection--peasantry in arms-- All orders discontented--and the army, Just in the moment of our expectation Of aidance from it--lo! this very army Seduced, run wild, lost to all discipline, Loosened, and rent asunder from the state And from their sovereign, the blind instrument Of the most daring of mankind, a weapon Of fearful power, which at his will he wields.

OCTAVIO.

Nay, nay, friend! let us not despair too soon Men's words are even bolder than their deeds; And many a resolute, who now appears Made up to all extremes, will, on a sudden, Find in his breast a heart he wot not of, Let but a single honest man speak out The true name of his crime! Remember, too, We stand not yet so wholly unprotected.

Counts Altringer and Gallas have maintained Their little army faithful to its duty, And daily it becomes more numerous.

Nor can he take us by surprise; you know I hold him all encompa.s.sed by my listeners.

What'er he does, is mine, even while 'tis doing-- No step so small, but instantly I hear it; Yea, his own mouth discloses it.

QUESTENBERG.

'Tis quite Incomprehensible, that he detects not The foe so near!

OCTAVIO.

Beware, you do not think, That I, by lying arts, and complaisant Hypocrisy, have sulked into his graces, Or with the substance of smooth professions Nourish his all-confiding friends.h.i.+p! No-- Compelled alike by prudence, and that duty Which we all owe our country and our sovereign, To hide my genuine feelings from him, yet Ne'er have I duped him with base counterfeits!

QUESTENBERG.

It is the visible ordinance of heaven.

OCTAVIO.

I know not what it is that so attracts And links him both to me and to my son.

Comrades and friends we always were--long habit, Adventurous deeds performed in company, And all those many and various incidents Which stores a soldier's memory with affections, Had bound us long and early to each other-- Yet I can name the day, when all at once His heart rose on me, and his confidence Shot out into sudden growth. It was the morning Before the memorable fight at Luetzen.

Urged by an ugly dream, I sought him out, To press him to accept another charger.

At a distance from the tents, beneath a tree, I found him in a sleep. When I had waked him And had related all my bodings to him, Long time he stared upon me, like a man Astounded: thereon fell upon my neck, And manifested to me an emotion That far outstripped the worth of that small service.

Since then his confidence has followed me With the same pace that mine has fled from him.

QUESTENBERG.

You lead your son into the secret?

OCTAVIO.

No!

QUESTENBERG.

What! and not warn him either, what bad hands His lot has placed him in?

OCTAVIO.

I must perforce Leave him in wards.h.i.+p to his innocence.

His young and open soul--dissimulation Is foreign to its habits! Ignorance Alone can keep alive the cheerful air, The unembarra.s.sed sense and light free spirit, That makes the duke secure.

QUESTENBERG (anxiously).

My honored friend! most highly do I deem Of Colonel Piccolomini--yet--if-- Reflect a little----

OCTAVIO.

I must venture it.

Hus.h.!.+ There he comes!

SCENE IV.

MAX. PICCOLOMINI, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, QUESTENBERG.

MAX.

Ha! there he is himself. Welcome, my father!

[He embraces his father. As he turns round, he observes QUESTENBERG, and draws back with a cold and reserved air.

You are engaged, I see. I'll not disturb you.

OCTAVIO.

How, Max.? Look closer at this visitor.

Attention, Max., an old friend merits--reverence Belongs of right to the envoy of your sovereign.

MAX. (drily).

Von Questenberg!--welcome--if you bring with you Aught good to our headquarters.

QUESTENBERG (seizing his hand).

Nay, draw not Your hand away, Count Piccolimini!

Not on my own account alone I seized it, And nothing common will I say therewith.

[Taking the hands of both.

Octavio--Max. Piccolomini!

O savior names, and full of happy omen!

Ne'er will her prosperous genius turn from Austria, While two such stars, with blessed influences Beaming protection, s.h.i.+ne above her hosts.

MAX.

Heh! n.o.ble minister! You miss your part.

You come not here to act a panegyric.

You're sent, I know, to find fault and to scold us-- I must not be beforehand with my comrades.

OCTAVIO (to MAX.).

He comes from court, where people are not quite So well contented with the duke as here.

MAX.

What now have they contrived to find out in him?

That he alone determines for himself What he himself alone doth understand!

Well, therein he does right, and will persist in't Heaven never meant him for that pa.s.sive thing That can be struck and hammered out to suit Another's taste and fancy. He'll not dance To every tune of every minister.

It goes against his nature--he can't do it, He is possessed by a commanding spirit, And his, too, is the station of command.

And well for us it is so! There exist Few fit to rule themselves, but few that use Their intellects intelligently. Then Well for the whole, if there be found a man Who makes himself what nature destined him, The pause, the central point, to thousand thousands Stands fixed and stately, like a firm-built column, Where all may press with joy and confidence-- Now such a man is Wallenstein; and if Another better suits the court--no other But such a one as he can serve the army.

QUESTENBERG.

The army? Doubtless!

MAX.

What delight to observe How he incites and strengthens all around him, Infusing life and vigor. Every power Seems as it were redoubled by his presence He draws forth every latent energy, Showing to each his own peculiar talent, Yet leaving all to be what nature made them, And watching only that they be naught else In the right place and time; and he has skill To mould the power's of all to his own end.

QUESTENBERG.

But who denies his knowledge of mankind, And skill to use it? Our complaint is this: That in the master he forgets the servant, As if he claimed by birth his present honors.