The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 110

[Before 37] _Wallenstein (remains for a while with absent mind, then a.s.sumes a livelier manner, and turns suddenly to the Countess)._ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[41] _was_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[47] _him_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[57, 58]

This anguish will be wearied down, I know; What pang is permanent with man?

A very inadequate translation of the original.

'Verschmerzen werd' ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich, Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch!'

_Literally_--

I shall _grieve down_ this blow, of that I'm conscious: What does not man grieve down?

1800, 1828, 1829.

NOTE. In 1834 the _literal_ translation of ll. 57, 58 was subst.i.tuted for the text of the variant and the footnote was omitted.

[65] Clothing the palpable and the familiar 1800, 1828, 1829.

[68] _beautiful_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[96] _them_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[114] _thee_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[131] _should_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

_WALLENSTEIN, GORDON._

_Wallenstein._ All quiet in the town?

_Gordon._ The town is quiet.

_Wallenstein._ 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 Tertsky, and Field Marshal Illo. 5

_Wallenstein._ In honour of the victory.--This tribe Can shew 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. 10 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.

_Wallenstein._ Well, it has lasted long enough. Here--give it.

[_He takes and looks at the chain._

'Twas the first present of the Emperor. 15 He hung it round me in the war of Friule, He being then Archduke; and I have worn it Till now from habit---- From superst.i.tion if you will. Belike, It was to be a talisman to me, 20 And while I wore it on my neck in faith, It was to chain to me all my life long The volatile fortune whose first pledge it was.

Well, be it so! Henceforward a new fortune Must spring up for me; for the potency 25 Of this charm is dissolved.

[Groom of the Chamber _retires with the vestments.

WALLENSTEIN rises, takes a stride across the room, and stands at last before GORDON in a posture of meditation._

How the old time returns upon me! I Behold myself once more at Burgau, where We two were pages of the Court together.

We oftentimes disputed: thy intention 30 Was ever good; but thou wert wont to play The moralist and preacher, and would'st rail at me That I strove after things too high for me, Giving my faith to bold unlawful dreams, And still extol to me the golden mean. 35 --Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friend To thy own self. See, it has made thee early A superannuated man, and (but That my munificent stars will intervene) Would let thee in some miserable corner 40 Go out like an untended lamp.

_Gordon._ My Prince!

With light heart the poor fisher moors his boat, And watches from the sh.o.r.e the lofty s.h.i.+p Stranded amid the storm.

_Wallenstein._ Art thou already In harbour then, old man? Well! I am not. 45 The unconquered spirit drives me o'er life's billows; My planks still firm, my canvas swelling proudly.

Hope is my G.o.ddess still, and youth my inmate; And while we stand thus front to front almost, I might presume to say, that the swift years 50 Have pa.s.sed by powerless o'er my unblanched hair.

[_He moves with long strides across the saloon, and remains on the opposite side over against GORDON._

Who now persists in calling Fortune false?

To me she has proved faithful, with fond love Took me from out the common ranks of men, And like a mother G.o.ddess, with strong arm 55 Carried me swiftly up the steps of life.

Nothing is common in my destiny, Nor in the furrows of my hand. Who dares Interpret then my life for me as 'twere One of the undistinguishable many? 60 True in this present moment I appear Fallen low indeed; but I shall rise again.

The high flood will soon follow on this ebb; The fountain of my fortune, which now stops Repressed and bound by some malicious star, 65 Will soon in joy play forth from all its pipes.

_Gordon._ And yet remember I the good old proverb, 'Let the night come before we praise the day.'

I would be slow from long-continued fortune To gather hope: for hope is the companion 70 Given to the unfortunate by pitying Heaven.

Fear hovers round the head of prosperous men, For still unsteady are the scales of fate.

_Wallenstein (smiling)._ I hear the very Gordon that of old Was wont to preach to me, now once more preaching; 75 I know well, that all sublunary things Are still the va.s.sals of vicissitude.

The unpropitious G.o.ds demand their tribute.

This long ago the ancient Pagans knew: And therefore of their own accord they offered 80 To themselves injuries, so to atone The jealousy of their divinities: And human sacrifices bled to Typhon.

[_After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner._