My austere master only, not my friend.
There was already war ‘twixt him and me
When he delivered the Commander’s Staff 65
Into my hands; for there’s a natural
Unceasing war ‘twixt cunning and suspicion;
Peace exists only betwixt confidence
And faith. Who poisons confidence, he murders
The future generations.
Max. I will not 70
Defend my father. Woe is me, I cannot!
Hard deeds and luckless have ta’en place, one crime
Drags after it the other in close link.
But we are innocent: how have we fallen
Into this circle of mishap and guilt? 75
To whom have we been faithless? Wherefore must
The evil deeds and guilt reciprocal
Of our two fathers twine like serpents round us?
Why must our fathers’
Unconquerable hate rend us asunder,
Who love each other?
Wallenstein. Max, remain with me. 80
Go you not from me, Max! Hark! I will tell thee —
How when at Prague, our winter quarters, thou
Wert brought into my tent a tender boy,
Not yet accustomed to the German winters;
Thy hand was frozen to the heavy colours; 85
Thou would’st not let them go. —
At that time did I take thee in my arms,
And with my mantle did I cover thee;
I was thy nurse, no woman could have been
A kinder to thee; I was not ashamed 90
To do for thee all little offices,
However strange to me; I tended thee
Till life returned; and when thine eyes first opened,
I had thee in my arms. Since then, when have I
Altered my feelings towards thee? Many thousands 95
Have I made rich, presented them with lands;
Rewarded them with dignities and honours;
Thee have I loved: my heart, my self, I gave
To thee! They all were aliens: thou wert
Our child and inmate. Max! Thou canst not leave me; 100
It cannot be; I may not, will not think
That Max can leave me.
Max. O my God!
Wallenstein. I have
Held and sustained thee from thy tottering childhood.
What holy bond is there of natural love?
What human tie, that does not knit thee to me? 105
I love thee, Max! What did thy father for thee,
Which I too have not done, to the height of duty?
Go hence, forsake me, serve thy Emperor;
He will reward thee with a pretty chain
Of gold; with his ram’s fleece will he reward thee; 110
For that the friend, the father of thy youth,
For that the holiest feeling of humanity,
Was nothing worth to thee.
Max. O God! how can I
Do otherwise? Am I not forced to do it?
My oath — my duty — honour —
Wallenstein. How? Thy duty? 115
Duty to whom? Who art thou? Max! bethink thee
What duties may’st thou have? If I am acting
A criminal part toward the Emperor,
It is my crime, not thine. Dost thou belong
To thine own self? Art thou thine own commander? 120
Stand’st thou, like me, a freeman in the world,
That in thy actions thou should’st plead free agency?
On me thou’rt planted, I am thy Emperor;
To obey me, to belong to me, this is
Thy honour, this a law of nature to thee! 125
And if the planet, on the which thou liv’st
And hast thy dwelling, from its orbit starts,
It is not in thy choice, whether or no
Thou’lt follow it. Unfelt it whirls thee onward
Together with his ring and all his moons. 130
With little guilt stepp’st thou into this contest,
Thee will the world not censure, it will praise thee,
For that thou heldst thy friend more worth to thee
Than names and influences more removed.
For justice is the virtue of the ruler, 135
Affection and fidelity the subject’s.
Not every one doth it beseem to question
The far-off high Arcturus. Most securely
Wilt thou pursue the nearest duty — let
The pilot fix his eye upon the pole-star. 140
WALLENSTEIN.
Du schilderst deines Vaters Herz. Wie Du’s
Beschreibst, so ist’s in seinem Eingeweide,
In dieser schwarzen Heuchlersbrust gestaltet.
O mich hat Höllenkunst getäuscht. Mir sandte
Der Abgrund den verstecktesten der Geister,
Den Lügekundigsten herauf, und stellt’ ihn
Als Freund an meine Seite. Wer vermag
Der Hölle Macht zu widerstehn! Ich zog
Den Basilisken auf an meinem Busen,
Mit meinem Herzblut nährt’ ich ihn, er sog
Sich schwelgend voll an meiner Liebe Brüsten.
Ich hatte nimmer Arges gegen ihn,
Weit offen Hess ich des Gedankens Thore,
Und warf die Schlüssel weiser Vorsicht weg,
Am Sternenhimmel, &c.
LITERAL TRANSLATION.
Alas! for those who place their confidence on thee, against thee lean
the secure hut of their fortune, allured by thy hospitable form.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, in a moment still as night, there is a
fermentation in the treacherous gulf of fire; it discharges itself with
raging force, and away over all the plantations of men drives the wild
stream in frightful devastation. WALLENSTEIN. Thou art portraying thy
father’s heart; as thou describest, even so is it shaped in his
entrails, in this black hypocrite’s breast. O, the art of hell has
deceived me! The Abyss sent up to me the most spotted of the spirits,
the most skilful in lies, and placed him as a friend by my side. Who may
withstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to my bosom, with my