Marshals, and now the buzz is hushed, and hark!
Now the soft peace-march beats, home, brothers, home!
The caps and helmets are all garlanded 145
With green boughs, the last plundering of the fields.
The city gates fly open of themselves,
They need no longer the petard to tear them.
The ramparts are all filled with men and women,
With peaceful men and women, that send onwards 150
Kisses and welcomings upon the air,
Which they make breezy with affectionate gestures.
From all the towers rings out the merry peal,
The joyous vespers of a bloody day.
O happy man, O fortunate! for whom 155
The well-known door, the faithful arms are open,
The faithful tender arms with mute embracing.
Questenberg. O! that you should speak
Of such a distant, distant time, and not
Of the tomorrow, not of this to-day. 160
Max. Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna?
I will deal openly with you, Questenberg.
Just now, as first I saw you standing here,
(I’ll own it to you freely) indignation
Crowded and pressed my inmost soul together. 165
‘Tis ye that hinder peace, ye! — and the warrior,
It is the warrior that must force it from you.
Ye fret the General’s life out, blacken him,
Hold him up as a rebel, and Heaven knows
What else still worse, because he spares the Saxons, 170
And tries to awaken confidence in the enemy;
Which yet ‘s the only way to peace: for if
War intermit not during war, how then
And whence can peace come? — Your own plagues fall on you!
Even as I love what’s virtuous, hate I you. 175
And here make I this vow, here pledge myself;
My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein,
And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere ye
Shall revel and dance jubilee o’er his ruin. [Exit.
SCENE V
QUESTENBERG, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI.
Questenberg. Alas, alas! and stands it so?
What, friend! and do we let him go away
In this delusion — let him go away?
Not call him back immediately, not open
His eyes upon the spot?
Octavio. He has now opened mine, 5
And I see more than pleases me.
Questenberg. What is it?
Octavio. Curse on this journey!
Questenberg. But why so? What is it?
Octavio. Come, come along, friend! I must follow up
The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes
Are opened now, and I must use them. Come! 10
[Draws QUESTENBERG on with him.
Questenberg. What now? Where go you then?
Octavio. To her herself.
Questenberg. To ——
Octavio. To the Duke. Come, let us go—’Tis done, ‘tis done,
I see the net that is thrown over him.
O! he returns not to me as he went.
Questenberg. Nay, but explain yourself.
Octavio. And that I should not 15
Foresee it, not prevent this journey! Wherefore
Did I keep it from him? — You were in the right.
I should have warned him! Now it is too late.
Questenberg. But what’s too late? Bethink yourself, my friend,
That you are talking absolute riddles to me. 20
Octavio. Come! — to the Duke’s. ‘Tis close upon the hour
Which he appointed you for audience. Come!
A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey!
[He leads QUESTENBERG off.
[After 1] [Then in pressing and impatient tones. 1800, 1828, 1829.
1829.
[Before 12] Octavio (interrupting him, and correcting himself). 1800,
1828, 1829.
[Before 21] Octavio (more collected). 1800, 1828, 1829.
SCENE VI
Changes to a spacious chamber in the house of the Duke of
Friedland. — Servants employed in putting the tables and chairs in
order. During this enters SENI, like an old Italian doctor, in black,
and clothed somewhat fantastically. He carries a white staff, with which
he marks out the quarters of the heaven.
First Servant. Come — to it, lads, to it! Make an end of it.
I hear the sentry call out, ‘Stand to your arms!’ They will
be there in a minute.
Second Servant. Why were we not told before that the
audience would be held here? Nothing prepared — no orders — no 5
instructions —
Third Servant. Ay, and why was the balcony-chamber
countermanded, that with the great worked carpet? — there one can
look about one.
First Servant. Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. 10
He says it is an unlucky chamber.
Second Servant. Poh! stuff and nonsense! That’s what I call
a hum. A chamber is a chamber; what much can the place
signify in the affair?
Seni. My son, there’s nothing insignificant, 15
Nothing! But yet in every earthly thing
First and most principal is place and time.
First Servant (to the Second). Say nothing to him, Nat. The
Duke himself must let him have his own will.
Seni (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low voice, till
he comes to eleven, which he repeats). Eleven! an evil number!
Set twelve chairs. 20
Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac: five and seven,
The holy numbers, include