The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Iii Part 72

This was a dream of favorable omen, That marriage being the founder of my fortunes.

COUNTESS.

Today I dreamt that I was seeking thee In thy own chamber. As I enter'd, lo!

It was no more a chamber: the Chartreuse At Gitschin 'twas, which thou thyself hast founded, And where it is thy will that thou should'st be Interr'd.

WALLENSTEIN.

Thy soul is busy with these thoughts.

COUNTESS.

What! dost thou not believe that oft in dreams A voice of warning speaks prophetic to us?

WALTENST.

There is no doubt that there exist such voices; Yet I would not call _them_ Voices of warning that announce to us Only the inevitable. As the sun, Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events, And in today already walks tomorrow.

That which we read of the fourth Henry's death Did ever vex and haunt me like a tale Of my own future destiny. The king Felt in his breast the phantom of the knife, Long ere Ravaillac arm'd himself therewith.

His quiet mind forsook him: the phantasma Started him in his Louvre, chased him forth Into the open air: like funeral knells Sounded that coronation festival; And still with boding sense he heard the tread Of those feet that even then were seeking him Throughout the streets of Paris.

COUNTESS.

And to _thee_ The voice within thy soul bodes nothing?

WALLENSTEIN.

Nothing.

Be wholly tranquil.

COUNTESS.

And another time I hasten'd after thee, and thou ran'st from me Through a long suite, through many a s.p.a.cious hall.

There seem'd no end of it: doors creak'd and clapp'd; I follow'd panting, but could not o'ertake thee; When on a sudden did I feel myself Grasp'd from behind--the hand was cold that grasped me-- 'Twas thou, and thou didst kiss me, and there seem'd A crimson covering to envelop us.

WALLENST. That is the crimson tapestry of my chamber.

COUNTESS _(gazing on him)._ If it should come to that--if I should see thee, Who standest now before me in the fulness Of life--

_[She falls on his breast and weeps_.]

WALLENST.

The Emperor's proclamation weighs upon thee-- Alphabets wound not--and he finds no hands.

COUNTESS.

If he _should_ find them, my resolve is taken-- I bear about me my support and refuge.

[_Exit_ COUNTESS.]

SCENE IV

WALLENSTEIN, GORDON

WALLENST.

All quiet in the town?

GORDON.

The town is quiet.

WALLENST.

I hear a boisterous music! and the Castle Is lighted up. Who are the revellers?

GORDON.

There is a banquet given at the Castle To the Count Terzky and Field Marshal Illo.

WALLENST.

In honor of the victory--This tribe Can show their joy in nothing else but feasting.

[_Rings. The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _enters_.]

Unrobe me. I will lay me down to sleep.

[WALLENSTEIN _takes the keys from_ GORDON.]

So we are guarded from all enemies, And shut in with sure friends; For all must cheat me, or a face like this

[_Fixing his eye on_ GORDON.]

Was ne'er a hypocrite's mask.

[_The_ GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _takes off his mantle, collar, and scarf._]

WALLENSTEIN.

Take care--what is that?

GROOM OF THE CHAMBER.

The golden chain is snapped in two.