The Piccolomini: A Play

SCENE III.

      COUNTESS, MAX. PICCOLOMINI.

   MAX. (peeping in on the stage slyly).
   Aunt Terzky! may I venture?
      [Advances to the middle of the stage, and looks around
      him with uneasiness.
                  She's not here!
   Where is she?

   COUNTESS.
           Look but somewhat narrowly
   In yonder corner, lest perhaps she lie
   Concealed behind that screen.

   MAX.
                   There lie her gloves!

      [Snatches at them, but the COUNTESS takes them herself.

   You unkind lady! You refuse me this,
   You make it an amusement to torment me.

   COUNTESS.
   And this the thanks you give me for my trouble?

   MAX.
   O, if you felt the oppression at my heart!
   Since we've been here, so to constrain myself
   With such poor stealth to hazard words and glances.
   These, these are not my habits!

   COUNTESS.
                    You have still
   Many new habits to acquire, young friend!
   But on this proof of your obedient temper
   I must continue to insist; and only
   On this condition can I play the agent
   For your concerns.

   MAX.
             But wherefore comes she not?
   Where is she?

   COUNTESS.
           Into my hands you must place it
   Whole and entire. Whom could you find, indeed,
   More zealously affected to your interest?
   No soul on earth must know it—not your father;
   He must not, above all.

   MAX.
                Alas! what danger?
   Here is no face on which I might concentre
   All the enraptured soul stirs up within me.
   O lady! tell me, is all changed around me?
   Or is it only I?
            I find myself,
   As among strangers! Not a trace is left
   Of all my former wishes, former joys.
   Where has it vanished to? There was a time
   When even, methought, with such a world as this,
   I was not discontented. Now how flat!
   How stale! No life, no bloom, no flavor in it!
   My comrades are intolerable to me.
   My father—even to him I can say nothing.
   My arms, my military duties—O!
   They are such wearying toys!

   COUNTESS.
                  But gentle friend!
   I must entreat it of your condescension,
   You would be pleased to sink your eye, and favor
   With one short glance or two this poor stale world,
   Where even now much, and of much moment,
   Is on the eve of its completion.

   MAX.
                     Something,
   I can't but know is going forward round me.
   I see it gathering, crowding, driving on,
   In wild uncustomary movements. Well,
   In due time, doubtless, it will reach even me.
   Where think you I have been, dear lady? Nay,
   No raillery. The turmoil of the camp,
   The spring-tide of acquaintance rolling in,
   The pointless jest, the empty conversation,
   Oppressed and stifled me. I gasped for air—
   I could not breathe—I was constrained to fly,
   To seek a silence out for my full heart;
   And a pure spot wherein to feel my happiness.
   No smiling, countess! In the church was I.
   There is a cloister here "To the heaven's gate," 
   Thither I went, there found myself alone.
   Over the altar hung a holy mother;
   A wretched painting 'twas, yet 'twas the friend
   That I was seeking in this moment. Ah,
   How oft have I beheld that glorious form
   In splendor, 'mid ecstatic worshippers;
   Yet, still it moved me not! and now at once
   Was my devotion cloudless as my love.

   COUNTESS.
   Enjoy your fortune and felicity!
   Forget the world around you. Meantime, friendship
   Shall keep strict vigils for you, anxious, active.
   Only be manageable when that friendship
   Points you the road to full accomplishment.

   MAX.
   But where abides she then? Oh, golden time
   Of travel, when each morning sun united
   And but the coming night divided us;
   Then ran no sand, then struck no hour for us,
   And time, in our excess of happiness,
   Seemed on its course eternal to stand still.
   Oh, he hath fallen from out his heaven of bliss
   Who can descend to count the changing hours,
   No clock strikes ever for the happy!

   COUNTESS.
   How long is it since you declared your passion?

   MAX.
   This morning did I hazard the first word.

   COUNTESS.
   This morning the first time in twenty days?

   MAX.
   'Twas at that hunting-castle, betwixt here
   And Nepomuck, where you had joined us, and
   That was the last relay of the whole journey;
   In a balcony we were standing mute,
   And gazing out upon the dreary field
   Before us the dragoons were riding onward,
   The safeguard which the duke had sent us—heavy;
   The inquietude of parting lay upon me,
   And trembling ventured at length these words:
   This all reminds me, noble maiden, that
   To-day I must take leave of my good fortune.
   A few hours more, and you will find a father,
   Will see yourself surrounded by new friends,
   And I henceforth shall be but as a stranger,
   Lost in the many—"Speak with my Aunt Terzky!"
   With hurrying voice she interrupted me.
   She faltered. I beheld a glowing red
   Possess her beautiful cheeks, and from the ground
   Raised slowly up her eye met mine—no longer
   Did I control myself.
      [The Princess THEKLA appears at the door, and remains standing,
      observed by the COUNTESS, but not by PICCOLOMINI.
               With instant boldness
   I caught her in my arms, my lips touched hers;
   There was a rustling in the room close by;
   It parted us—'Twas you. What since has happened
   You know.

   COUNTESS (after a pause, with a stolen glance at THEKLA).
        And is it your excess of modesty
   Or are you so incurious, that you do not
   Ask me too of my secret?

   MAX.
                Of your secret?

   COUNTESS.
   Why, yes! When in the instant after you
   I stepped into the room, and found my niece there;
   What she in this first moment of the heart
   Taken with surprise——

   MAX. (with eagerness).
               Well?