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Read books online » Drama » The Death of Wallenstein by Friedrich Schiller (best time to read books txt) 📖

Book online «The Death of Wallenstein by Friedrich Schiller (best time to read books txt) 📖». Author Friedrich Schiller



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from my presence, Dallied with thoughts of possible fulfilment, Commenced no movement, left all time uncertain, And only kept the road, the access open? By the great God of Heaven! it was not My serious meaning, it was ne'er resolved. I but amused myself with thinking of it. The free-will tempted me, the power to do Or not to do it. Was it criminal To make the fancy minister to hope, To fill the air with pretty toys of air, And clutch fantastic sceptres moving toward me? Was not the will kept free? Beheld I not The road of duty close beside me - but One little step, and once more I was in it! Where am I? Whither have I been transported? No road, no track behind me, but a wall, Impenetrable, insurmountable, Rises obedient to the spells I muttered And meant not - my own doings tower behind me.
[Pauses and remains in deep thought. A punishable man I seem, the guilt, Try what I will, I cannot roll off from me; The equivocal demeanor of my life Bears witness on my prosecutor's party. And even my purest acts from purest motives Suspicion poisons with malicious gloss. Were I that thing for which I pass, that traitor, A goodly outside I had sure reserved, Had drawn the coverings thick and double round me, Been calm and chary of my utterance; But being conscious of the innocence Of my intent, my uncorrupted will, I gave way to my humors, to my passion: Bold were my words, because my deeds were not Now every planless measure, chance event, The threat of rage, the vaunt of joy and triumph, And all the May-games of a heart overflowing, Will they connect, and weave them all together Into one web of treason; all will be plan, My eye ne'er absent from the far-off mark, Step tracing step, each step a politic progress; And out of all they'll fabricate a charge So specious, that I must myself stand dumb. I am caught in my own net, and only force, Naught but a sudden rent can liberate me.

[Pauses again.

How else! since that the heart's unbiased instinct Impelled me to the daring deed, which now Necessity, self-preservation, orders. Stern is the on-look of necessity, Not without shudder may a human hand Grasp the mysterious urn of destiny. My deed was mine, remaining in my bosom; Once suffered to escape from its safe corner Within the heart, its nursery and birthplace, Sent forth into the foreign, it belongs Forever to those sly malicious powers Whom never art of man conciliated.

[Paces in agitation through the chamber, then pauses, and, after
the pause, breaks out again into audible soliloquy.

What it thy enterprise? thy aim? thy object? Hast honestly confessed it to thyself? Power seated on a quiet throne thou'dst shake, Power on an ancient, consecrated throne, Strong in possession, founded in all custom; Power by a thousand tough and stringy roots Fixed to the people's pious nursery faith. This, this will be no strife of strength with strength. That feared I not. I brave each combatant, Whom I can look on, fixing eye to eye, Who, full himself of courage, kindles courage In me too. 'Tis a foe invisible The which I fear - a fearful enemy, Which in the human heart opposes me, By its coward fear alone made fearful to me. Not that, which full of life, instinct with power, Makes known its present being; that is not The true, the perilously formidable. O no! it is the common, the quite common, The thing of an eternal yesterday. Whatever was, and evermore returns, Sterling to-morrow, for to-day 'twas sterling! For of the wholly common is man made, And custom is his nurse! Woe then to them Who lay irreverent hands upon his old House furniture, the dear inheritance From his forefathers! For time consecrates; And what is gray with age becomes religion. Be in possession, and thou hast the right, And sacred will the many guard it for thee!

[To the PAGE, - who here enters.

The Swedish officer? Well, let him enter.

[The PAGE exit, WALLENSTEIN fixes his eye in deep thought
on the door.

Yet, it is pure - as yet! - the crime has come Not o'er this threshold yet - so slender is The boundary that divideth life's two paths.


SCENE V.

WALLENSTEIN and WRANGEL.

WALLENSTEIN (after having fixed a searching look on him). Your name is Wrangel?

WRANGEL.
Gustave Wrangel, General Of the Sudermanian Blues.

WALLENSTEIN.
It was a Wrangel Who injured me materially at Stralsund, And by his brave resistance was the cause Of the opposition which that seaport made.

WRANGEL. It was the doing of the element With which you fought, my lord! and not my merit, The Baltic Neptune did assert his freedom: The sea and land, it seemed were not to serve One and the same.

WALLENSTEIN You plucked the admiral's hat from off my head.

WRANGEL. I come to place a diadem thereon.

WALLENSTEIN (makes the motion for him to take a seat, and seats himself).
And where are your credentials Come you provided with full powers, sir general?

WRANGEL. There are so many scruples yet to solve - -

WALLENSTEIN (having read the credentials). An able letter! Ay - he is a prudent, Intelligent master whom you serve, sir general! The chancellor writes me that he but fulfils His late departed sovereign's own idea In helping me to the Bohemian crown.

WRANGEL. He says the truth. Our great king, now in heaven, Did ever deem most highly of your grace's Pre-eminent sense and military genius; And always the commanding intellect, He said, should have command, and be the king.

WALLENSTEIN. Yes, he might say it safely. General Wrangel,
[Taking his hand affectionately. Come, fair and open. Trust me, I was always A Swede at heart. Eh! that did you experience Both in Silesia and at Nuremberg; I had you often in my power, and let you Always slip out by some back door or other. 'Tis this for which the court can ne'er forgive me, Which drives me to this present step: and since Our interests so run in one direction, E'en let us have a thorough confidence Each in the other.

WRANGEL.
Confidence will come Has each but only first security.

WALLENSTEIN. The chancellor still, I see, does not quite trust me; And, I confess - the game does not lie wholly To my advantage. Without doubt he thinks, If I can play false with the emperor, Who is my sovereign, I can do the like With the enemy, and that the one, too, were Sooner to be forgiven me than the other. Is not this your opinion, too, sir general?

WRANGEL. I have here a duty merely, no opinion.

WALLENSTEIN. The emperor hath urged me to the uttermost I can no longer honorably serve him. For my security, in self-defence, I take this hard step, which my conscience blames.

WRANGEL. That I believe. So far would no one go Who was not forced to it.
[After a pause.
What may have impelled Your princely highness in this wise to act Toward your sovereign lord and emperor, Beseems not us to expound or criticise. The Swede is fighting for his good old cause, With his good sword and conscience. This concurrence, This opportunity is in our favor, And all advantages in war are lawful. We take what offers without questioning; And if all have its due and just proportions - -

WALLENSTEIN. Of what then are ye doubting? Of my will? Or of my power? I pledged me to the chancellor, Would he trust me with sixteen thousand men, That I would instantly go over to them With eighteen thousand of the emperor's troops.

WRANGEL. Your grace is known to be a mighty war-chief, To be a second Attila and Pyrrhus. 'Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment, How some years past, beyond all human faith, You called an army forth like a creation: But yet - -

WALLENSTEIN.
But yet?

WRANGEL.
But still the chancellor thinks It might yet be an easier thing from nothing To call forth sixty thousand men of battle, Than to persuade one-sixtieth part of them - -

WALLENSTEIN. What now? Out with it, friend?

WRANGEL.
To break their oaths.

WALLENSTEIN. And he thinks so? He judges like a Swede, And like a Protestant. You Lutherans Fight for your Bible. You are interested About the cause; and with your hearts you follow Your banners. Among you whoe'er deserts To the enemy hath broken covenant With two lords at one time. We've no such fancies.

WRANGEL. Great God in heaven! Have then the people here No house and home, no fireside, no altar?

WALLENSTEIN. I will explain that to you, how it stands: The Austrian has a country, ay, and loves it, And has good cause to love it - but this army That calls itself the imperial, this that houses Here in Bohemia, this has none - no country; This is an outcast of all foreign lands, Unclaimed by town or tribe, to whom belongs Nothing except the universal sun. And this Bohemian land for which we fight Loves not the master whom the chance of war, Not its own choice or will, hath given to it. Men murmur at the oppression of their conscience, And power hath only awed but not appeased them. A glowing and avenging memory lives Of cruel deeds committed on these plains; How can the son forget that here his father Was hunted by the bloodhound to the mass? A people thus oppressed must still be feared, Whether they suffer or avenge their wrongs.

WRANGEL. But then the nobles and the officers? Such a desertion, such a felony, It is without example, my lord duke, In the world's history.

WALLENSTEIN.
They are all mine - Mine unconditionally - mine on all terms. Not me, your own eyes you must trust.

[He gives him the paper containing the written oath. WRANGEL reads
it through, and, having read it, lays it on the table, - remaining
silent.

So then; Now comprehend you?

WRANGEL.
Comprehend who can! My lord duke, I will let the mask drop - yes! I've full powers for a final settlement. The Rhinegrave stands but four days' march from here With fifteen thousand men, and only waits For orders to proceed and join your army. These orders I give out immediately We're compromised.
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