Ourselves to dream of at Vienna.

There

We saw it only with the courtier's eyes,

Eyes dazzled by the splendour of the throne.
We had not seen the War-chief, the Commander,
The man all-powerful in his camp. Here, here,
'Tis quite another thing.

-the Duke is Emperor.

Here is no Emperor more

Alas, my friend! alas, my noble friend!

This walk which you have ta'en me through the camp

Strikes my hopes prostrate.

Oct.

Now you see yourself

Of what a perilous kind the office is,

Which you deliver to me from the Court.

The least suspicion of the General

Costs me my freedom and my life, and would

But hasten his most desperate enterprise.

Ques. Where was our reason sleeping when we trusted

This madman with the sword, and plac'd such power
In such a hand, I tell you, he'll refuse,

Flatly refuse, t'obey, and what he can, he will.
And then, th' impunity of his defiance-

O! what a proclamation of our weakness!

Oct. 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 domains-
This is no doubtful token of the nearness
Of some eruption !

Ques.

How shall we hold footing

Beneath this tempest, which collects itself
And threats us from all quarters? Th' enemy

Of th' 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
Seduc'd, run wild, lost to all discipline,
Loosen'd, 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!

Oct. Nay, nay, friend! let us not despair too soon, Men's words are ever 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 Galas have maintain’d
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 encompass'd by my list❜ners.
Whate'er he does, is mine, even while 'tis doing-
No step so small, but instantly I hear it;

Yea, his own mouth discloses it.

That I by lying arts, and complaisant

Hypocrisy, have skulk'd into his graces;

Or with the sustenance of smooth professions
Nourish his all-confiding friendship! No-
Compell'd alike by prudence, and that duty
Which we all owe our country, and our sovereign,
To hide my genuine feelings from him, yet,
Never have I dup'd him with base counterfeits!
Ques. It is the visible ordinance of heaven.
Oct. 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 perform'd in company,
And all those many and various incidents
Which store 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 in sudden growth. It was the morning
Before the memorable fight of Lützner.
Urg'd by an ugly dream, I sought him out,

To press him to accept another charger.
At distance from the tents, beneath a tree,

I found him in a sleep. When I had wak'd him,
And had related all my bodings to him,
Long time he star'd upon me, like a man
Astounded; thereon fell upon my neck,
And manifested to me an emotion

That far outstripp'd the worth of that small service. Since then his confidence has follow'd me

With the same pace that mine has fled from him.

Ques. You led your son into the secret?

Oct.

No!

Ques. What? and not warn him either what bad

hands

His lot has plac'd him in ?

Oct.

I must perforce

Leave him in wardship to his innocence.
His young and open soul-dissimulation
Is foreign to its habits Ignorance

Alone can keep alive the cheerful air,

The unembarrass'd sense and light free spirit,
That make the Duke secure.

Ques. (anxiously). My honour'd friend! most highly

'do I deem

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 engag'd, I see. I'll not disturb you.
Oct. How, Max? Look closer at this visiter,
Attention, Max. an old friend merits-Rev'rence
Belongs of right to the envoy of your sov'reign.
Max. (drily). Von Questenberg!-Welcome-if you
bring with you

Aught good to our head quarters.

Ques. (seizing his hand).

Nay, draw not

Your hand away, Count Piccolomini !
Not on mine own account alone I seiz'd it,
And nothing common will I say therewith.
(taking the hands of both).

Octavio-Max. Piccolomini

O saviour names, and full of happy omen!

Ne'er will her prosperous Genius turn from Austria, While two such stars, with blessed influences Beaming protection, shine above her hosts.

Max. Heh!-Noble minister! You miss your part. You came 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.

Oct. (to Max.) He comes from court, where people are not quite

So well contended with the duke, as here.

Max. What now have they contriv'd 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 passive thing
That can be struck and hammer'd 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 possess'd 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 destin'd him,
The pause, the central point of thousand thousands
Stands fix'd 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.
Ques. The army? Doubtless!

Oct. (to Questenberg). Hush! Suppress it friend!