It grieves me

That I must dash to earth, that I must shatter
A faith so specious! but I may not spare thee!
For this is not a time for tenderness.

Thou must take measures, speedy ones-must act.
I therefore will confess to thee, that all
Which I've intrusted to thee now-that all
Which seems to thee so unbelievable,

That-yes, I will tell thee-(a pause)-Max.! I had it all

From his own mouth-from the Duke's mouth I had it.

MAX. (in excessive agitation).

No!-no!-never!

OCTAVIO. Himself confided to me What I, 'tis true, had long before discover'd By other means-himself confided to me, That 't was his settled plan to join the Swedes; And, at the head of the united armies, Compel the Emperor

That he did not, evinced his confidence.
OCTAVIO.

Dear son, it is not always possible
Still to preserve that infant purity
Which the voice teaches in our inmost heart,
Still in alarum, for ever on the watch
Against the wiles of wicked men: e'en Virtue
Will sometimes bear away her outward robes
Soil'd in the wrestle with Iniquity.
This is the curse of every evil deed,
That, propagating still, it brings forth evil.
I do not cheat my better soul with sophisms:
I but perform my orders; the Emperor
Prescribes my conduct to me. Dearest boy,
Far better were it, doubtless, if we all
Obey'd the heart at all times; but so doing,
In this our present sojourn with bad men,
We must abandon many an honest object.
"Tis now our call to serve the Emperor;
By what means he can best be served-the heart
May whisper what it will-this is our call!

MAX.

It seems a thing appointed, that to-day
I should not comprehend, not understand thee.
The Duke, thou say'st, did honestly pour out
His heart to thee, but for an evil purpose;
And thou dishonestly hast cheated him

For a good purpose! Silence, I entreat thee-
My friend, thou stealest not from me-
Let me not lose my father!

OCTAVIO (suppressing resentment).

As yet thou know'st not all, my son. I have
Yet somewhat to disclose to thee. [After a pause.
Duke Friedland

Hath made his preparations. He relies
Upon his stars. He deems us unprovided,
And thinks to fall upon us by surprise.
Yea, in his dream of hope, he grasps already
The golden circle in his hand. He errs.
We too have been in action-he but grasps
His evil fate, most evil, most mysterious!

MAX.

O nothing rash, my sire! By all that's good Let me invoke thee-no precipitation!

OCTAVIO.

With light tread stole he on his evil way,
And light tread hath Vengeance stole on after him.
Unseen she stands already, dark behind him-
But one step more-he shudders in her grasp!
Thou hast seen Questenberg with me. As yet
Thou know'st but his ostensible commission:
He brought with him a private one, my son!
And that was for me only.

MAX.

May I know it?

OCTAVIO (seizes the patent).

Max.! [A pause.

Immediately?

-In this disclosure place I in thy hands
The Empire's welfare and thy father's life.
Dear to thy inmost heart is Wallenstein:
A powerful tie of love, of veneration,
Hath knit thee to him from thy earliest youth.
Thou nourishest the wish.-O let me still
Anticipate thy loitering confidence!

The hope thou nourishest to knit thyself
Yet closer to him-

MAX.

What! on suspicion?

OCTAVIO.

The Emperor is no tyrant. The deed alone he'll punish, not the wish. The Duke hath yet his destiny in his power. Let him but leave the treason uncompleted, He will be silently displaced from office, And make way to his Emperor's royal son. An honorable exile to his castles Will be a benefaction to him rather Than punishment. But the first open step

MAX.

What callest thou such a step? A wicked step Ne'er will he take; but thou mightest easily, Yea, thou hast done it, misinterpret him.

OCTAVIO.

Read it.

Thyself.

Duke Friedland sentenced and condemn'd!

OCTAVIO.

Too soon, I fear, its powers must all be proved.
After the counter-promise of this evening,

It cannot be but he must deem himself
Secure of the majority with us;
And of the army's general sentiment
He hath a pleasing proof in that petition
Which thou delivered'st to him from the regiments.
Add this too-I have letters that the Rhinegrave
Hath changed his route, and travels by forced marches
To the Bohemian Forests. What this purports,
Remains unknown; and, to confirm suspicion,
This night a Swedish nobleman arrived here.

MAX.

I have thy word. Thou 'lt not proceed to action Before thou hast convinced me-me myself.

OCTAVIO.

Is it possible? Still, after all thou know'st,
Canst thou believe still in his innocence?
MAX. (with enthusiasm).

Thy judgment may mistake; my heart can not.
[Moderates his voice and manner.
These reasons might expound thy spirit or mine;
But they expound not Friedland-I have faith:
For as he knits his fortunes to the stars,
Even so doth he resemble them in secret,
Wonderful, still inexplicable courses!
Trust me, they do him wrong. All will be solved.
These smokes at once will kindle into flame-
The edges of this black and stormy cloud
Will brighten suddenly, and we shall view
The unapproachable glide out in splendor.

OCTAVIO.

I will await it.

SCENE II.

He was sorely frighten'd,

When it was told him he must to Vienna.
But the Count Altringer bade him take heart,
Would he but make a full and free confession.

OCTAVIO.

How now, then?

THE CHAMBER.

OCTAVIO.

VALET.

A dispatch is at the door.

OCTAVIO.

That he lay sick at Linz.

CORNET.

These three days past He's with my master, the Lieutenant-General, At Frauenberg. Already have they sixty Small companies together, chosen men;

We have him.

CORNET.

OCTAVIO.

[CORNET signifies his assent and obeisance, and is going.

No living creature.

The Capuchins, as

No one saw you-ha?

CORNET.

Through the cloister wicket usual, let me in.

OCTAVIO.

Go, rest your limbs, and keep yourself conceal'd.
I hold it probable, that yet ere evening
I shall dispatch you. The development
Of this affair approaches: ere the day,
That even now is dawning in the heaven,

MAX. (returning).

If thou hast believed that I shall act
A part in this thy play-

Thou hast miscalculated on me grievously.

My way must be straight on. True with the tongue,
False with the heart-I may not, can not be :
Nor can I suffer that a man should trust me-
As his friend trust me-and then lull my conscience
With such low pleas as these :-" I ask'd him not-
He did it all at his own hazard-and
My mouth has never lied to him."-No, no!
What a friend takes me for, that I must be.
-I'll to the Duke; ere yet this day is ended,
Will I demand of him that he do save
His good name from the world, and with one stride
Break through and rend this fine-spun web of yours.
He can, he will!-I still am his believer.
Yet I'll not pledge myself, but that those letters
May furnish you, perchance, with proofs against him.
How far may not this Tertsky have proceeded-
What may not he himself too have permitted
Himself to do, to snare the enemy,
The laws of war excusing? Nothing, save
His own mouth, shall convict him--nothing less!
And face to face will I go question him.

Thou wilt?

OCTAVIO.

MAX.

I will, as sure as this heart beats.

OCTAVIO.

I have, indeed, miscalculated on thee.
I calculated on a prudent son,

Who would have blest the hand beneficent
That pluck'd him back from the abyss-and lo!
A fascinated being I discover,
Whom his two eyes befool, whom passion wilders,
Whom not the broadest light of noon can heal.
Go, question him!-Be mad enough, I pray thee.
The purpose of thy father, of thy Emperor,
Go, give it up free booty-Force me, drive me
To an open breach before the time. And now,
Now that a miracle of heaven had guarded
My secret purpose even to this hour,
And laid to sleep Suspicion's piercing eyes,
Let me have lived to see that mine own son,

With frantic enterprise, annihilates My toilsome labors and state-policy.

ΜΑΧ.

Ay-this state-policy! O how I curse it!
You will, some time, with your state-policy
Compel him to the measure: it may happen,
Because you are determined that he is guilty,
Guilty ye'll make him. All retreat cut off,
You close up every outlet, hem him in
Narrower and narrower, till at length ye force him,
Yes, ye,-ye force him, in his desperation,
To set fire to his prison. Father! father!
That never can end well-it can not-will not!
And let it be decided as it may,

I see with boding heart the near approach
Of an ill-starr'd, unblest catastrophe.
For this great Monarch-spirit, if he fall,
Will drag a world into the ruin with him.
And as a ship (that midway on the ocean
Takes fire) at once, and with a thunder-burst
Explodes, and with itself shoots out its crew
In smoke and ruin betwixt sea and heaven;
So will he, falling, draw down in his fall
All us, who're fix'd and mortised to his fortune.
Deem of it what thou wilt; but pardon me,
That I must bear me on in my own way.
All must remain pure betwixt him and me;
And, ere the day-light dawns, it must be known
Which I must lose-my father, or my friend.
[During his exit the curtain drops.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Scene, a Room fitted up for astrological labors, and provided with celestial Charts, with Globes, Telescopes, Quadrants, and other mathematical Instruments.-Seven Colossal Figures, representing the Planets, each with a transparent Star of a different Color on its head, stand in a semicircle in the Background, so that Mars and Saturn are nearest the Eye-The Remainder of the Scene, and its Disposition, is given in the Fourth Scene of the Second Act. There must be a Curtain over the Figures, which may be dropped, and conceal them on occasions. [In the Fifth Scene of this Act it must be dropped; but in the Seventh Scene, it must be again drawn up wholly or in part.]

WALLENSTEIN at a black Table, on which a Speculum Astrologicum is described with Chalk. SENI is taking Observations through a Window.

WALLENSTEIN.

All well-and now let it be ended, Seni.-Come,
The dawn commences, and Mars rules the hour.
We must give o'er the operation. Come,
We know enough.

SENI.

Your Highness must permit me Just to contemplate Venus. She's now rising: Like as a sun, so shines she in the east. WALLENSTEIN.

She is at present in her perigee, And shoots down now her strongest influences. [Contemplating the figure on the table.

Auspicious aspect! fateful in conjunction,
At length the mighty three corradiate ;
And the two stars of blessing, Jupiter
And Venus, take between them the malignant
Slyly-malicious Mars, and thus compel
Into my service that old mischief-founder:
For long he view'd me hostilely, and ever
With beam oblique, or perpendicular,
Now in the Quartile, now in the Secundan,
Shot his red lightnings at my stars, disturbing
Their blessed influences and sweet aspects.
Now they have conquer'd the old enemy,
And bring him in the heavens a prisoner to me.

SENI (who has come down from the window).
And in a corner house, your Highness-think of that!
That makes each influence of double strength.

WALLENSTEIN.

And sun and moon, too, in the Sextile aspect, The soft light with the vehement-so I love it. SOL is the heart, LUNA the head of heaven, Bold be the plan, fiery the execution.

SENI.

And both the mighty Lumina by no Maleficus affronted. Lo! Saturnus, Innocuous, powerless, in cadente Domo.

WALLENSTEIN.

The empire of Saturnus is gone by;
Lord of the secret birth of things is he;
Within the lap of earth, and in the depths
Of the imagination dominates ;

And his are all things that eschew the light.
The time is o'er of brooding and contrivance,
For Jupiter, the lustrous, lordeth now,

And the dark work, complete of preparation,
He draws by force into the realm of light.
Now must we hasten on to action, ere
The scheme, and most auspicious posture
Parts o'er my head, and takes once more its flight;
For the heavens journey still, and sojourn not.
[There are knocks at the door.
There's some one knocking there. See who it is.
TERTSKY (from without).

Open, and let me in.

[While SENI opens the door for TERTSKY, WALLENSTEIN draws the curtain over the figures. TERTSKY (enters).

Hast thou already heard it? He is taken.
Galas has given him up to the Emperor.

In the army Lies my security. The army will not Abandon me. Whatever they may know,

SCENE II.

WALLENSTEIN, COUNT TERTSKY.

WALLENSTEIN (to TERTSKY).

Who has been taken?-Who is given up?

TERTSKY.

And substitute I caution for my fealty,

They must be satisfied, at least appear so.

ILLO.

The army, Duke, is thine now-for this moment

"Tis thine: but think with terror on the slow,

The quiet power of time. From open violence The attachment of thy soldiery secures thee