The Piccolomini by Friedrich Schiller (summer reads TXT) 📖
- Author: Friedrich Schiller
Book online «The Piccolomini by Friedrich Schiller (summer reads TXT) 📖». Author Friedrich Schiller
MAX.
My father! Yet, ere thou speakest, a moment's pause of thought! If your disclosures should appear to be Conjectures only--and almost I fear They will be nothing further--spare them! I Am not in that collected mood at present, That I could listen to them quietly.
OCTAVIO. The deeper cause thou hast to hate this light, The more impatient cause have I, my son, To force it on thee. To the innocence And wisdom of thy heart I could have trusted thee With calm assurance--but I see the net Preparing--and it is thy heart itself Alarms me, for thine innocence--that secret,
[Fixing his eyes steadfastly on his son's face. Which thou concealest, forces mine from me.
[MAX. attempts to answer, but hesitates, and casts his eyes
to the ground embarrassed.
OCTAVIO (after a pause). Know, then, they are duping thee!--a most foul game With thee and with us all--nay, hear me calmly-- The duke even now is playing. He assumes The mask, as if he would forsake the army; And in this moment makes he preparations That army from the emperor to steal, And carry it over to the enemy!
MAX. That low priest's legend I know well, but did not Expect to hear it from thy mouth.
OCTAVIO.
That mouth, From which thou hearest it at this present moment, Doth warrant thee that it is no priest's legend.
MAX. How mere a maniac they supposed the duke; What, he can meditate?--the duke?--can dream That he can lure away full thirty thousand Tried troops and true, all honorable soldiers, More than a thousand noblemen among them, From oaths, from duty, from their honor lure them, And make them all unanimous to do A deed that brands them scoundrels?
OCTAVIO.
Such a deed, With such a front of infamy, the duke No way desires--what he requires of us Bears a far gentler appellation. Nothing He wishes but to give the empire peace. And so, because the emperor hates this peace, Therefore the duke--the duke will force him to it. All parts of the empire will he pacify, And for his trouble will retain in payment (What he has already in his gripe)--Bohemia!
MAX. Has he, Octavio, merited of us, That we--that we should think so vilely of him?
OCTAVIO. What we would think is not the question here, The affair speaks for itself--and clearest proofs! Hear me, my son--'tis not unknown to thee, In what ill credit with the court we stand. But little dost thou know, or guess what tricks, What base intrigues, what lying artifices, Have been employed--for this sole end--to sow Mutiny in the camp! All bands are loosed-- Loosed all the bands that link the officer To his liege emperor, all that bind the soldier Affectionately to the citizen. Lawless he stands, and threateningly beleaguers The state he's bound to guard. To such a height 'Tis swollen, that at this hour the emperor Before his armies--his own armies--trembles; Yea, in his capital, his palace, fears The traitor's poniard, and is meditating To hurry off and hide his tender offspring-- Not from the Swedes, not from the Lutherans--no, From his own troops to hide and hurry them!
MAX. Cease, cease! thou torturest, shatterest me. I know That oft we tremble at an empty terror; But the false phantasm brings a real misery.
OCTAVIO. It is no phantasm. An intestine war, Of all the most unnatural and cruel, Will burst out into flames, if instantly We do not fly and stifle it. The generals Are many of them long ago won over; The subalterns are vacillating; whole Regiments and garrisons are vacillating. To foreigners our strongholds are intrusted; To that suspected Schafgotch is the whole Force of Silesia given up: to Terzky Five regiments, foot and horse; to Isolani, To Illo, Kinsky, Butler, the best troops.
MAX. Likewise to both of us.
OCTAVIO.
Because the duke Believes he has secured us, means to lure us Still further on by splendid promises. To me he portions forth the princedoms, Glatz And Sagan; and too plain I see the bait With which he doubts not but to catch thee.
MAX.
No! no! I tell thee, no!
OCTAVIO.
Oh, open yet thine eyes! And to what purpose think'st thou he has called Hither to Pilsen? to avail himself Of our advice? Oh, when did Friedland ever Need our advice? Be calm, and listen to me. To sell ourselves are we called hither, and Decline we that, to be his hostages. Therefore doth noble Gallas stand aloof; Thy father, too, thou wouldst not have seen here, If higher duties had not held him fettered.
MAX. He makes no secret of it--needs make none-- That we're called hither for his sake--he owns it. He needs our aidance to maintain himself-- He did so much for us; and 'tis but fair That we, too, should do somewhat now for him.
OCTAVIO. And know'st thou what it is which we must do? That Illo's drunken mood betrayed it to thee. Bethink thyself, what hast thou heard, what seen? The counterfeited paper, the omission Of that particular clause, so full of meaning, Does it not prove that they would bind us down To nothing good?
MAX.
That counterfeited paper Appears to me no other than a trick Of Illo's own device. These underhand Traders in great men's interests ever use To urge and hurry all things to the extreme. They see the duke at variance with the court, And fondly think to serve him, when they widen The breach irreparably. Trust me, father, The duke knows nothing of all this.
OCTAVIO.
It grieves me That I must dash to earth, that I must shatter A faith so specious; but I may not spare thee! For this is not a time for tenderness. Thou must take measured, speedy ones, must act. I therefore will confess to thee that all Which I've intrusted to thee now, that all Which seems to thee so unbelievable, That--yes, I will tell thee, (a pause) Max.! I had it all From his own mouth, from the duke's mouth I had it.
MAX (in excessive agitation). No! no! never!
OCTAVIO.
Himself confided to me What I, 'tis true, had long before discovered By other means; himself confided to me, That 'twas his settled plan to join the Swedes; And, at the head of the united armies, Compel the emperor----
MAX.
He is passionate, The court has stung him; he is sore all over With injuries and affronts; and in a moment Of irritation, what if he, for once, Forgot himself? He's an impetuous man.
OCTAVIO. Nay, in cold blood he did confess this to me And having construed my astonishment Into a scruple of his power, he showed me His written evidences--showed me letters, Both from the Saxon and the Swede, that gave Promise of aidance, and defined the amount.
MAX. It cannot be!--cannot be! cannot be! Dost thou not see, it cannot! Thou wouldst of necessity have shown him Such horror, such deep loathing--that or he Had taken thee for his better genius, or Thou stood'st not now a living man before me.
OCTAVIO. I have laid open my objections to him, Dissuaded him with pressing earnestness; But my abhorrence, the full sentiment Of my whole heart--that I have still kept safe To my own consciousness.
MAX.
And thou hast been So treacherous? That looks not like my father! I trusted not thy words, when thou didst tell me Evil of him; much less can I now do it, That thou calumniatest thy own self.
OCTAVIO. I did not thrust myself into his secrecy.
MAX. Uprightness merited his confidence.
OCTAVIO. He was no longer worthy of sincerity.
MAX. Dissimulation, sure, was still less worthy Of thee, Octavio!
OCTAVIO.
Gave I him a cause To entertain a scruple of my honor?
MAX. That he did not evince his confidence.
OCTAVIO. Dear son, it is not always possible Still to preserve that infant purity Which the voice teaches in our inmost heart, Still in alarm, forever on the watch Against the wiles of wicked men: e'en virtue Will sometimes bear away her outward robes Soiled in the wrestle with iniquity. This is the curse of every evil deed That, propagating still, it brings forth evil. I do not cheat my better soul with sophisms; I but perform my orders; the emperor Prescribes my conduct to me. Dearest boy, Far better were it, doubtless, if we all Obeyed the heart at all times; but so doing, In this our present sojourn with bad men, We must abandon many an honest object. 'Tis now our call to serve the emperor; By what means he can best be served--the heart May whisper what it will--this is our call!
MAX. It seems a thing appointed, that to-day I should not comprehend, not understand thee. The duke, thou sayest, did honestly pour out His heart to thee, but for an evil purpose: And thou dishonestly hast cheated him For a good purpose! Silence, I entreat thee-- My friend, thou stealest not from me-- Let me not lose my father!
OCTAVIO (suppressing resentment). As yet thou knowest not all, my son. I have Yet somewhat to disclose to thee.
[After a pause.
Duke Friedland Hath made his preparations. He relies Upon the stars. He deems us unprovided, And thinks to fall upon us by surprise. Yea, in his dream of hope, he grasps already The golden circle in his hand. He errs, We, too, have been in action--he but grasps His evil fate, most evil, most mysterious!
MAX. Oh, nothing rash, my sire! By all that's good, Let me invoke thee--no precipitation!
OCTAVIO. With light tread stole he on his evil way, And light of tread hath vengeance stole on after him. Unseen she stands already, dark behind him But one step more--he shudders in her grasp! Thou hast seen Questenberg with me. As yet Thou knowest but his ostensible commission: He brought with him a private one, my son! And that was for me only.
MAX.
Comments (0)