The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - LightNovelsOnl.com
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WALLENST.
Well, it has lasted long enough. Here--give it.
[_He takes and looks at the chain_.]
'Twas the first present of the Emperor.
He hung it round me in the war of Friule, He being then Archduke; and I have worn it Till now from habit-- From superst.i.tion, if you will. Belike, It was to be a talisman to me; And while I wore it on my neck in faith, It was to chain to me all my life long The volatile fortune, whose first pledge it was-- Well, be it so! Henceforward a new fortune Must spring up for me; for the potency Of this charm is dissolved.
[GROOM OF THE CHAMBER _retires with the vestments._ WALLENSTEIN _rises, takes a stride across the room, and stands at last before_ GORDON _in a posture of meditation_.]
How the old time returns upon me! I Behold myself once more at Burgau, where We two were Pages of the Court together.
We oftentimes disputed: thy intention Was ever good; but thou wert wont to play The Moralist and Preacher, and wouldst rail at me-- That I strove after things too high for me, Giving my faith to bold unlawful dreams, And still extol to me the golden mean-- Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friend To thy own self. See, it has made thee early A superannuated man, and (but That my munificent stars will intervene) Would let thee in some miserable corner Go out like an untended lamp.
GORDON.
My Prince!
With light heart the poor fisher moors his boat, And watches from the sh.o.r.e the lofty s.h.i.+p Stranded amid the storm.
WALLENSTEIN.
Art thou already In harbor then, old man? Well! I am not.
The unconquer'd spirit drives me o'er life's billows; My planks still firm, my canvas swelling proudly.
Hope is my G.o.ddess still, and Youth my inmate; And while we stand thus front to front almost I might presume to say that the swift years Have pa.s.sed by powerless o'er my unblanched hair.
_[He moves with long strides across the Saloon, and remains on the opposite side over against_ GORDON.]
Who now persists in calling Fortune false?
To me she has proved faithful; with fond love Took me from out the common ranks of men, And like a mother G.o.ddess, with strong arm Carried me swiftly up the steps of life.
Nothing is common in my destiny, Nor in the furrows of my hand. Who dares Interpret then my life for me as 'twere One of the undistinguishable many?
True, in this present moment I appear Fallen low indeed; but I shall rise again.
The high flood will soon follow on this ebb; The fountain of my fortune, which now stops Repress'd and bound by some malicious star, Will soon in joy play forth from all its pipes.
GORDON.
And yet remember I the good old proverb, "Let the night come before we praise the day."
I would be slow from long-continued fortune To gather hope: for Hope is the companion Given to the unfortunate by pitying Heaven.
Fear hovers round the head of prosperous men; For still unsteady are the scales of fate.
WALLENSTEIN _(smiling_).
I hear the very Gordon that of old Was wont to preach, now once more preaching; I know well that all sublunary things Are still the va.s.sals of vicissitude.
The unpropitious G.o.ds demand their tribute; This long ago the ancient Pagans knew: And therefore of their own accord they offer'd To themselves injuries, so to atone The jealousy of their divinities: And human sacrifices bled to Typhon.
[_After a pause, serious, and in a more subdued manner._]
I too have sacrificed to him--For me There fell the dearest friend, and through my fault He fell! No joy from favorable fortune Can overweight the anguish of this stroke.
The envy of my destiny is glutted Life pays for life. On his pure head the lightning Was drawn off which would else have shatter'd _me_.
SCENE V
_To these enter_ SENI
WALLENST.
Is not that Seni! and beside himself, If one may trust his looks? What brings thee hither At this late hour, Baptista?
SENI.
Terror, Duke!
On thy account.
WALLENSTEIN.
What now?
SENI.
Flee ere the day break!
Trust not thy person to the Swedes!
WALLENSTEIN.
What now Is in thy thoughts?
SENI (_with louder voice_).
Trust not thy person to the Swedes.
WALLENSTEIN.
What is it, then?
SENI (_still more urgently_).
O wait not the arrival of these Swedes!
An evil near at hand is threatening thee From false friends. All the signs stand full of horror!
Near, near at hand the net-work of perdition-- Yea, even now 'tis being cast around thee!
WALLENST.
Baptista, thou art dreaming!--Fear befools thee.
SENI.
Believe not that an empty fear deludes me.
Come, read it in the planetary aspects; Read it thyself that ruin threatens thee From false friends.
