The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge - LightNovelsOnl.com
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How rapidly the wheel of Fortune turns; The Emperor still is formidably strong.
_Illo._ The Emperor has soldiers, no commander, For this King Ferdinand of Hungary 40 Is but a tyro. Galas? He's no luck, And was of old the ruiner of armies.
And then this viper, this Octavio, Is excellent at stabbing in the back, But ne'er meets Friedland in the open field. 45
_Tertsky._ Trust me, my friends, it cannot but succeed; Fortune, we know, can ne'er forsake the Duke!
And only under Wallenstein can Austria Be conqueror.
_Illo._ The Duke will soon a.s.semble A mighty army, all come crowding, streaming 50 To banners dedicate by destiny To fame and prosperous fortune. I behold Old times come back again, he will become Once more the mighty Lord which he has been.
How will the fools, who've now deserted him, 55 Look then? I can't but laugh to think of them, For lands will he present to all his friends, And like a King and Emperor reward True services; but we've the nearest claims. [_To GORDON._ You will not be forgotten, Governor! 60 He'll take you from this nest and bid you s.h.i.+ne In higher station: your fidelity Well merits it.
_Gordon._ I am content already, And wish to climb no higher; where great height is The fall must needs be great. 'Great height, great depth.' 65
_Illo._ Here you have no more business for to-morrow; The Swedes will take possession of the citadel.
Come, Tertsky, it is supper-time. What think you?
Say, shall we have the State illuminated In honour of the Swede? And who refuses 70 To do it is a Spaniard and a traitor.
_Tertsky._ Nay! Nay! not that, it will not please the Duke--
_Illo._ What! we are masters here; no soul shall dare Avow himself imperial where we've rule.
Gordon! Good night, and for the last time, take 75 A fair leave of the place. Send out patroles To make secure, the watch-word may be altered At the stroke of ten; deliver in the keys To the Duke himself, and then you're quit for ever Your wards.h.i.+p of the gates, for on to-morrow 80 The Swedes will take possession of the citadel.
_Tertsky (as he is going, to Butler)._ You come though to the castle.
_Butler._ At the right time. [_Exeunt TERTSKY and ILLO._
LINENOTES:
[50] come] comes 1800, 1828, 1829.
[74] Avow himself imperial where we've the rule. 1800, 1828, 1829.
SCENE VIII
_GORDON and BUTLER._
_Gordon (looking after them)._ Unhappy men! How free from all foreboding!
They rush into the outspread net of murder, In the blind drunkenness of victory; I have no pity for their fate. This Illo, This overflowing and fool-hardy villain 5 That would fain bathe himself in his Emperor's blood.
_Butler._ Do as he ordered you. Send round patroles.
Take measures for the citadel's security; When they are within I close the castle gate That nothing may transpire.
_Gordon._ Oh! haste not so! 10 Nay, stop; first tell me----
_Butler._ You have heard already, To-morrow to the Swedes belongs. This night Alone is ours. They make good expedition.
But we will make still greater. Fare you well.
_Gordon._ Ah! your looks tell me nothing good. Nay, Butler, 15 I pray you, promise me!
_Butler._ The sun has set; A fateful evening doth descend upon us, And brings on their long night! Their evil stars Deliver them unarmed into our hands.
And from their drunken dream of golden fortunes 20 The dagger at their heart shall rouse them. Well, The Duke was ever a great calculator; His fellow-men were figures on his chess-board, To move and station, as his game required.
Other men's honour, dignity, good name, 25 Did he s.h.i.+ft like p.a.w.ns, and made no conscience of it: Still calculating, calculating still; And yet at last his calculation proves Erroneous; the whole game is lost; and lo!
His own life will be found among the forfeits. 30
_Gordon._ O think not of his errors now; remember His greatness, his munificence, think on all The lovely features of his character, On all the n.o.ble exploits of his life, And let them, like an angel's arm, unseen 35 Arrest the lifted sword.
_Butler._ It is too late.
I suffer not myself to feel compa.s.sion, Dark thoughts and b.l.o.o.d.y are my duty now:
[_Grasping GORDON'S hand._
Gordon! 'Tis not my hatred (I pretend not To love the Duke, and have no cause to love him) 40 Yet 'tis not now my hatred that impels me To be his murderer. 'Tis his evil fate.
Hostile concurrences of many events Control and subjugate me to the office.
In vain the human being meditates 45 Free action. He is but the wire-worked[777:1] puppet Of the blind power, which out of his own choice Creates for him a dread necessity.
What too would it avail him, if there were A something pleading for him in my heart-- 50 Still I must kill him.
_Gordon._ If your heart speak to you, Follow its impulse. 'Tis the voice of G.o.d.
Think you your fortunes will grow prosperous Bedewed with blood--his blood? Believe it not!
_Butler._ You know not. Ask not! Wherefore should it happen, 55 That the Swedes gained the victory, and hasten With such forced marches. .h.i.therward? Fain would I Have given him to the Emperor's mercy.--Gordon!
I do not wish his blood--But I must ransom The honour of my word--it lies in pledge-- 60 And he must die, or----
[_Pa.s.sionately grasping GORDON'S hand._
Listen then, and know!
I am dishonoured if the Duke escape us.
_Gordon._ O! to save such a man----
_Butler._ What!
_Gordon._ It is worth A sacrifice.--Come, friend! Be n.o.ble-minded!
Our own heart, and not other men's opinions, 65 Forms our true honour.
_Butler._ He is a great Lord, This Duke--and I am but of mean importance.
This is what you would say? Wherein concerns it The world at large, you mean to hint to me, Whether the man of low extraction keeps 70 Or blemishes his honour-- So that the man of princely rank be saved.
We all do stamp our value on ourselves.
The price we challenge for ourselves is given us.
There does not live on earth the man so stationed, 75 That I despise myself compared with him.
Man is made great or little by his own will; Because I am true to mine, therefore he dies.
_Gordon._ I am endeavouring to move a rock.
Thou hadst a mother, yet no human feelings. 80 I cannot hinder you, but may some G.o.d Rescue him from you! [_Exit GORDON._
FOOTNOTES:
[777:1] We doubt the propriety of putting so blasphemous a sentiment in the mouth of any character.--T[RANSLATOR]. _1800_, _1828_, _1829_.
