The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Illustrated Edition). Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Of the power which thou possessest — Friedland! Duke!

       Tell me, where lives that thing so meek and tame,

       That doth not all his living faculties 120

       Put forth in preservation of his life?

       What deed so daring, which necessity

       And desperation will not sanctify?

      Wallenstein. Once was this Ferdinand so gracious to me:

       He loved me; he esteemed me; I was placed 125

       The nearest to his heart. Full many a time

       We like familiar friends, both at one table,

       Have banquetted together. He and I —

       And the young kings themselves held me the bason

       Wherewith to wash me — and is’t come to this? 130

      Countess. So faithfully preserv’st thou each small favour,

       And hast no memory for contumelies?

       Must I remind thee, how at Regenspurg

       This man repaid thy faithful services?

       All ranks and all conditions in the Empire 135

       Thou hadst wronged, to make him great, — hadst loaded on thee,

       On thee, the hate, the curse of the whole world.

       No friend existed for thee in all Germany,

       And why? because thou hadst existed only

       For the Emperor. To the Emperor alone 140

       Clung Friedland in that storm which gathered round him

       At Regenspurg in the Diet — and he dropped thee!

       He let thee fall! He let thee fall a victim

       To the Bavarian, to that insolent!

       Deposed, stript bare of all thy dignity 145

       And power, amid the taunting of thy foes,

       Thou wert let drop into obscurity. —

       Say not, the restoration of thy honour

       Hath made atonement for that first injustice.

       No honest good-will was it that replaced thee, 150

       The law of hard necessity replaced thee,

       Which they had fain opposed, but that they could not.

      Wallenstein. Not to their good wishes, that is certain,

       Nor yet to his affection I’m indebted

       For this high office; and if I abuse it, 155

       I shall therein abuse no confidence.

      Countess. Affection! confidence! — They needed thee.

       Necessity, impetuous remonstrant!

       Who not with empty names, or shews of proxy,

       Is served, who’ll have the thing and not the symbol, 160

       Ever seeks out the greatest and the best,

       And at the rudder places him, e’en though

       She had been forced to take him from the rabble —

       She, this Necessity, it was that placed thee

       In this high office, it was she that gave thee 165

       Thy letters patent of inauguration.

       For, to the uttermost moment that they can.

       This race still help themselves at cheapest rate

       With slavish souls, with puppets! At the approach

       Of extreme peril, when a hollow image 170

       Is found a hollow image and no more,

       Then falls the power into the mighty hands

       Of Nature, of the spirit giant-born,

       Who listens only to himself, knows nothing

       Of stipulations, duties, reverences 175

       And, like the emancipated force of fire,

       Unmastered scorches, ere it reaches them,

       Their fine-spun webs, their artificial policy.

      Wallenstein. ‘Tis true! they saw me always as I am —

       Always! I did not cheat them in the bargain. 180

       I never held it worth my pains to hide

       The bold all-grasping habit of my soul.

      Countess. Nay rather — thou hast ever shewn thyself

       A formidable man, without restraint;

       Hast exercised the full prerogatives 185

       Of thy impetuous nature, which had been

       Once granted to thee. Therefore, Duke, not thou,

       Who hast still remained consistent with thyself,

       But they are in the wrong, who fearing thee,

       Entrusted such a power in hands they feared. 190

       For, by the laws of Spirit, in the right

       Is every individual character

       That acts in strict consistence with itself.

       Self-contradiction is the only wrong.

       Wert thou another being, then, when thou 195

       Eight years ago pursuedst thy march with fire

       And sword, and desolation, through the Circles

       Of Germany, the universal scourge,

       Didst mock all ordinances of the empire,

       The fearful rights of strength alone exertedst, 200

       Trampledst to earth each rank, each magistracy,

       All to extend thy Sultan’s domination?

       Then was the time to break thee in, to curb

       Thy haughty will, to teach thee ordinance.

       But no! the Emperor felt no touch of conscience, 205

       What served him pleased him, and without a murmur

       He stamped his broad seal on these lawless deeds.

       What at that time was right, because thou didst it

       For him, to-day is all at once become

       Opprobrious, foul, because it is directed 210

       Against him. — O most flimsy superstition!

      Wallenstein (rising). I never saw it in this light before.

       ‘Tis even so. The Emperor perpetrated

       Deeds through my arm, deeds most unorderly.

       And even this prince’s mantle, which I wear, 215

       I owe to what were services to him,

       But most high misdemeanours ‘gainst the empire.

      Countess. Then betwixt thee and him (confess it, Friedland!)

       The point can be no more of right and duty,

       Only of power and opportunity. 220

       That opportunity, lo! it comes yonder,

       Approaching with swift steeds; then with a swing

       Throw thyself up into the chariot-seat,

       Seize with firm hand the reins, ere thy opponent

       Anticipate thee, and himself make conquest 225

       Of the now empty seat. The moment comes —

       It is already here, when thou must write

       The absolute total of thy life’s vast sum.

       The constellations stand victorious o’er thee,

       The planets shoot good fortune in fair