The Piccolomini: A Play






SCENE VI.

      ILLO, WALLENSTEIN, TERZKY.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   How stand affairs without? Are they prepared?

   ILLO.
   You'll find them in the very mood you wish.
   They know about the emperor's requisition,
   And are tumultuous.

   WALLENSTEIN.
              How hath Isolani
   declared himself?

   ILLO.
             He's yours, both soul and body,
   Since you built up again his faro-bank.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   And which way doth Kolatto bend? Hast thou
   Made sure of Tiefenbach and Deodati?

   ILLO.
   What Piccolomini does that they do too.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   You mean, then, I may venture somewhat with them?

   ILLO.
   If you are assured of the Piccolomini.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   Not more assured of mine own self.

   TERZKY.
                     And yet
   I would you trusted not so much to Octavio,
   The fox!

   WALLENSTEIN.
        Thou teachest me to know my man?
   Sixteen campaigns I have made with that old warrior.
   Besides, I have his horoscope;
   We both are born beneath like stars—in short,
              [With an air of mystery.
   To this belongs its own peculiar aspect,
   If therefore thou canst warrant me the rest——

   ILLO.
   There is among them all but this one voice,
   You must not lay down the command. I hear
   They mean to send a deputation to you.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   If I'm in aught to bind myself to them
   They too must bind themselves to me.

   ILLO.
                      Of course.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   Their words of honor they must give, their oaths,
   Give them in writing to me, promising
   Devotion to my service unconditional.

   ILLO.
   Why not?

   TERZKY.
        Devotion unconditional?
   The exception of their duties towards Austria
   They'll always place among the premises.
   With this reserve——

   WALLENSTEIN (shaking his head).
              All unconditional;
   No premises, no reserves.

   ILLO.
                 A thought has struck me.
   Does not Count Terzky give us a set banquet
   This evening?

   TERZKY.
          Yes; and all the generals
   Have been invited.

   ILLO (to WALLENSTEIN).
             Say, will you here fully
   Commission me to use my own discretion?
   I'll gain for you the generals' word of honor,
   Even as you wish.

   WALLENSTEIN.
             Gain me their signatures!
   How you come by them that is your concern.

   ILLO.
   And if I bring it to you in black on white,
   That all the leaders who are present here
   Give themselves up to you, without condition;
   Say, will you then—then will you show yourself
   In earnest, and with some decisive action
   Try your fortune.

   WALLENSTEIN.
            Get but the signatures!

   ILLO.
   Think what thou dost, thou canst not execute
   The emperor's orders, nor reduce thine army,
   Nor send the regiments to the Spaniards' aid,
   Unless thou wouldst resign thy power forever.
   Think on the other hand—thou canst not spurn
   The emperor's high commands and solemn orders,
   Nor longer temporize, nor seek evasion,
   Wouldst thou avoid a rupture with the court.
   Resolve then! Wilt thou now by one bold act
   Anticipate their ends, or, doubting still,
   Await the extremity?

   WALLENSTEIN.
              There's time before
   The extremity arrives.

   ILLO.
               Seize, seize the hour,
   Ere it slips from you. Seldom comes the moment
   In life, which is indeed sublime and weighty.
   To make a great decision possible,
   O! many things, all transient and all rapid,
   Must meet at once: and, haply, they thus met
   May by that confluence be enforced to pause
   Time long-enough for wisdom, though too short,
   Far, far too short a time for doubt and scruple!
   This is that moment. See, our army chieftains,
   Our best, our noblest, are assembled round you,
   Their king-like leader! On your nod they wait.
   The single threads, which here your prosperous fortune
   Hath woven together in one potent web
   Instinct with destiny, O! let them not
   Unravel of themselves. If you permit
   These chiefs to separate, so unanimous
   Bring you them not a second time together.
   'Tis the high tide that heaves the stranded ship,
   And every individual's spirit waxes
   In the great stream of multitudes. Behold
   They are still here, here still! But soon the war
   Bursts them once more asunder, and in small
   Particular anxieties and interests
   Scatters their spirit, and the sympathy
   Of each man with the whole. He who to-day
   Forgets himself, forced onward with the stream,
   Will become sober, seeing but himself.
   Feel only his own weakness, and with speed
   Will face about, and march on in the old
   High road of duty, the old broad-trodden road,
   And seek but to make shelter in good plight.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   The time is not yet come.

   TERZKY.
                 So you say always.
   But when will it be time?

   WALLENSTEIN.
                 When I shall say it.

   ILLO.
   You'll wait upon the stars, and on their hours,
   Till the earthly hour escapes you. Oh, believe me,
   In your own bosom are your destiny's stars.
   Confidence in yourself, prompt resolution,
   This is your Venus! and the sole malignant,
   The only one that harmeth you is doubt.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   Thou speakest as thou understandest. How oft
   And many a time I've told thee Jupiter,
   That lustrous god, was setting at thy birth.
   Thy visual power subdues no mysteries;
   Mole-eyed thou mayest but burrow in the earth,
   Blind as the subterrestrial, who with wan
   Lead-colored shine lighted thee into life.
   The common, the terrestrial, thou mayest see,
   With serviceable cunning knit together,
   The nearest with the nearest; and therein
   I trust thee and believe thee! but whate'er
   Full of mysterious import Nature weaves,
   And fashions in the depths—the spirit's ladder,
   That from this gross and visible world of dust,
   Even to the starry world, with thousand rounds,
   Builds itself up; on which the unseen powers
   Move up and down on heavenly ministries—
   The circles in the circles, that approach
   The central sun with ever-narrowing orbit—
   These see the glance alone, the unsealed eye,
   Of Jupiter's glad children born in lustre.

   [He walks across the chamber, then returns, and standing still, proceeds.

   The heavenly constellations make not merely
   The day and nights, summer and spring, not merely
   Signify to the husbandman the seasons
   Of sowing and of harvest. Human action,
   That is the seed, too, of contingencies,
   Strewed on the dark land of futurity
   In hopes to reconcile the powers of fate
   Whence it behoves us to seek out the seed-time,
   To watch the stars, select their proper hours,
   And trace with searching eye the heavenly houses,
   Whether the enemy of growth and thriving
   Hide himself not, malignant, in his corner.
   Therefore permit me my own time. Meanwhile
   Do you your part. As yet I cannot say
   What I shall do—only, give way I will not,
   Depose me, too, they shall not. On these points
   You may rely.

   PAGE (entering).
          My lords, the generals.

   WALLENSTEIN.
   Let them come in.

   TERZKY.
            Shall all the chiefs be present?

   WALLENSTEIN.
   'Twere needless. Both the Piccolomini
   Maradas, Butler, Forgoetsch, Deodati,
   Karaffa, Isolani—these may come.

            [TERZKY goes out with the PAGE.

   WALLENSTEIN (to ILLO).
   Hast thou taken heed that Questenberg was watched?
   Had he no means of secret intercourse?

   ILLO.
   I have watched him closely—and he spoke with none
   But with Octavio.



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