He must unsheath it in your

father's cause.

Thek. He'll spend with gladness and alacrity His life, his heart's blood in my father's cause, If shame or injury be intended him.

Coun. You will not understand me. Well, hear

then!

Your father has fallen off from the Emperor,
And is about to join the enemy

With the whole soldiery—

Thek.

Alas, my mother?

Coun. There needs a great example to draw on

The army after him. The Piccolomini

Possess the love and reverence of the troops;
They govern all opinions, and wherever
They lead the way, none hesitate to follow.
The son secures the father to our interests---
You've much in your hands at this moment.
Thek.

Ah,

My miserable mother! what a death-stroke
Awaits thee !---No! She never will survive it.
Coun. She will accommodate her soul to that
Which is and must be. I do know your mother
The far-off future weighs upon her heart
With torture of anxiety; but is it
Unalterably, actually present,

She soon resigns herself, and bears it calmly.
Thek. O my fore-boding bosom! Even now,
E'en now 'tis here, that icy hand of horror!
And my young hope lies shuddering in its grasp;
knew it well---no sooner had I entered,

A heavy ominous presentiment

Revealed to me, that spirits of death were hovering
Over my happy fortune. But why think I
First of myself? My mother! O my mother!
Coun. Calm yourself! Break not out in vain

lamenting!

Preserve you for your father the firm friend,
And for yourself the lover, all will yet

Prove good and fortunate.

Thek.

Prove good? What good?

He can not

Must we not part? Part ne'er to meet again?

Coun. He parts not from you.

part from you.

Thek. Alas for his sore anguish! It will rend His heart asunder.

Coun.

If indeed he loves you,

His resolution will be speedily taken.

Thek. His resolution will be speedily taken--

O do not doubt of that! A resolution!

Does there remain one to be taken?

Coun.

Hush!

Collect yourself! I hear your mother coming.

Thek. How shall I bear to see her?

Coun.

Collect yourself.

SCENE III.

To them enter the Duchess.

Duch. (to the Countess.) Who was here, sister? I heard some one talking,

And passionately too.

Coun.

Nay! There was no one.

Duch. I am grown so timorous, every trifling

noise

Scatters my spirits, and announces to me
The footstep of some messenger of evil.
And can you tell me, sister, what the event is?
Will he agree to do the Emperor's pleasure,
And send the horse regiments to the Cardinal?
Tell me, has he dismissed Von Questenberg
With a favourable answer?

Coun.

Duch. Alas! then all is

The worst that can come !

him;

No, he has not.

lost! I see it coming,

Yes, they will depose

The accursed business of the Regenspurg diet
Will all be acted o'er again!

Coun.

No! never!

Make your heart easy, sister, as to that.

[Thekla throws herself upon her mother, and

enfolds her in her arms, weeping.

Duch. Yes, my poor child!

Thou too hast lost a most affectionate godmother

In the Empress. O that stern unbending man! In this unhappy marriage what have I

Not suffered, not endured. For ev'n as if

I had been linked on to some wheel of fire
That restless, ceaseless, whirls impetuous onwar
I have passed a life of frights and horrors with him,
And ever to the brink of some abyss

With dizzy headlong violence he whirls me.
Nay, do not weep, my child! Let not my sufferings
Presignify unhappiness to thee,

Nor blacken with their shade the fate that waits

thee.

There lives no second Friedland; thou, my child, Hast not to fear thy mother's destiny.

Thek. O let us supplicate him, dearest mother! Quick quick! here's no abiding-place for us. Here every coming hour broods into life

Some new affrightful monster.

Duch.

Thou wilt share

An easier, calmer lot, my child !

We too,

I and thy father, witnessed happy days.

Still think I with delight of those first years,
When he was making progress with glad effort,
When his ambition was a genial fire,

Not that consuming flame which now it is.
The Emperor loved him, trusted him: and all
He undertook could not but be successful.
But since that ill-starred day at Regenspurg,
Which plunged him headlong from his dignity,
A gloomy uncompanionable spirit,

Unsteady and suspicious, has possessed him.
His quiet mind forsook him, and no longer
Did he yield up himself in joy and faith
To his old luck, and individual power;

But thenceforth turned his heart and best affections
All to those cloudy sciences, which never
Have yet made happy him who followed them.
Coun. You see it, sister! as your eyes permit

you.

But surely this is not the conversation

Το pass the time in which we are waiting for him. You know he will be soon here. Would you have

him

Find her in this condition?

Duch. Come, my child! Come, wipe away thy tears, and show thy father A cheerful countenance. See, the tie-knot here Is off---this hair must not hang so dishevelled. Come, dearest! dry thy tears up. They deform Thy gentle eye---well now---what was I saying? Yes, in good truth, this Piccolomini

Is a most noble and deserving gentleman.

Coun. That is he, sister!

Thek. (to the Countess.) Aunt, you will ex

cuse me?

(is going.)

Coun. But whither? See, your father comes. Thek. I cannot see him now.

Coun.

Nay, but bethink you.

Thek. Believe me, I cannot sustain his presence. Coun. But he will miss you, will ask after you.