The Death of Wallenstein (play)

SCENE XXI.

COUNTESS, DUCHESS, MAX., and THEKLA.

COUNTESS (to the DUCHESS).

Let them but see him-there is hope still, sister.

DUCHESS.

Hope! I have none!

MAX. (who during the last scene has been standing at a distance, in a

visible struggle of feelings advances).

This can I not endure.

With most determined soul did I come hither;

My purposed action seemed unblamable

To my own conscience-and I must stand here

Like one abhorred, a hard, inhuman being:

Yea, loaded with the curse of all I love!

Must see all whom I love in this sore anguish,

Whom I with one word can make happy-O!

My heart revolts within me, and two voices

Make themselves audible within my bosom.

My soul's benighted; I no longer can

Distinguish the right track. Oh, well and truly

Didst thou say, father, I relied too much

On my own heart. My mind moves to and fro-

I know not what to do.

COUNTESS.

What! you know not?

Does not your own heart tell you? Oh! then I

Will tell it you. Your father is a traitor,

A frightful traitor to us-he has plotted

Against our general's life, has plunged us all

In misery-and you're his son! 'Tis yours

To make the amends. Make you the son's fidelity

Outweigh the father's treason, that the name

Of Piccolomini be not a proverb

Of infamy, a common form of cursing

To the posterity of Wallenstein.

MAX.

Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow!

It speaks no longer in my heart. We all

But utter what our passionate wishes dictate:

Oh that an angel would descend from heaven,

And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted,

With a pure hand from the pure Fount of light.

[His eyes glance on THEKLA.

What other angel seek I? To this heart,

To this unerring heart, will I submit it;

Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless

The happy man alone, averted ever

From the disquieted and guilty-canst thou

Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst,

And I am the duke's--

COUNTESS.

Think, niece--

MAX.

Think nothing, Thekla!

Speak what thou feelest.

COUNTESS.

Think upon your father.

MAX.

I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter.

Thee, the beloved and the unerring God

Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake?

Not whether diadem of royalty

Be to be won or not-that mightest thou think on.

Thy friend, and his soul's quiet are at stake:

The fortune of a thousand gallant men,

Who will all follow me; shall I forswear

My oath and duty to the emperor?

Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp

The parricidal ball? For when the ball

Has left its cannon, and is on its flight,

It is no longer a dead instrument!

It lives, a spirit passes into it;

The avenging furies seize possession of it,

And with sure malice, guide it the worst way.

THEKLA.

Oh! Max.--

MAX. (interrupting her).

Nay, not precipitately either, Thekla.

I understand thee. To thy noble heart

The hardest duty might appear the highest.

The human, not the great part, would I act.

Even from my childhood to this present hour,

Think what the duke has done for me, how loved me

And think, too, how my father has repaid him.

Oh likewise the free lovely impulses

Of hospitality, the pious friend's

Faithful attachment, these, too, are a holy

Religion to the heart; and heavily

The shudderings of nature do avenge

Themselves on the barbarian that insults them.

Lay all upon the balance, all-then speak,

And let thy heart decide it.

THEKLA.

Oh, thy own

Hath long ago decided. Follow thou

Thy heart's first feeling--

COUNTESS.

Oh! ill-fated woman!

THEKLA.

Is it possible, that that can be the right,

The which thy tender heart did not at first

Detect and seize with instant impulse? Go,

Fulfil thy duty! I should ever love thee.

Whate'er thou hast chosen, thou wouldst still have acted

Nobly and worthy of thee-but repentance

Shall ne'er disturb thy soul's fair peace.

MAX.

Then I

Must leave thee, must part from thee!

THEKLA.

Being faithful

To thine own self, thou art faithful, too, to me:

If our fates part, our hearts remain united.

A bloody hatred will divide forever

The houses Piccolomini and Friedland;

But we belong not to our houses. Go!

Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause

From our unholy and unblessed one!

The curse of heaven lies upon our head:

'Tis dedicate to ruin. Even me

My father's guilt drags with it to perdition.

Mourn not for me:

My destiny will quickly be decided.

[MAX. clasps her in his arms in extreme emotion. There is heard

from behind the scene a loud, wild, long-continued cry, Vivat

Ferdinandus! accompanied by warlike instruments. MAX. and THEKLA

remain without motion in each other's embraces.