But he had fallen into magnanimous hands

Instead of punishment he found reward,

And with rich presents did the duke dismiss

The arch-foe of his emperor.

WALLENSTEIN (laughs).

I know,

I know you had already in Vienna

Your windows and your balconies forestalled

To see him on the executioner's cart.

I might have lost the battle, lost it too

With infamy, and still retained your graces-

But, to have cheated them of a spectacle,

Oh! that the good folks of Vienna never,

No, never can forgive me!

QUESTENBERG.

So Silesia

Was freed, and all things loudly called the duke

Into Bavaria, now pressed hard on all sides.

And he did put his troops in motion: slowly,

Quite at his ease, and by the longest road

He traverses Bohemia; but ere ever

He hath once seen the enemy, faces round,

Breaks up the march, and takes to winter-quarters.

WALLENSTEIN.

The troops were pitiably destitute

Of every necessary, every comfort,

The winter came. What thinks his majesty

His troops are made of? Aren't we men; subjected

Like other men to wet, and cold, and all

The circumstances of necessity?

Oh, miserable lot of the poor soldier!

Wherever he comes in all flee before him,

And when he goes away the general curse

Follows him on his route. All must be seized.

Nothing is given him. And compelled to seize

From every man he's every man's abhorrence.

Behold, here stand my generals. Karaffa!

Count Deodati! Butler! Tell this man

How long the soldier's pay is in arrears.

BUTLER.

Already a full year.

WALLENSTEIN.

And 'tis the hire

That constitutes the hireling's name and duties,

The soldier's pay is the soldier's covenant. [8]

QUESTENBERG.

Ah! this is a far other tone from that

In which the duke spoke eight, nine years ago.

WALLENSTEIN.

Yes! 'tis my fault, I know it: I myself

Have spoilt the emperor by indulging him.

Nine years ago, during the Danish war,

I raised him up a force, a mighty force,

Forty or fifty thousand men, that cost him

Of his own purse no doit. Through Saxony

The fury goddess of the war marched on,

E'en to the surf-rocks of the Baltic, bearing

The terrors of his name. That was a time!

In the whole imperial realm no name like mine

Honored with festival and celebration-

And Albrecht Wallenstein, it was the title

Of the third jewel in his crown!

But at the Diet, when the princes met

At Regensburg, there, there the whole broke out,

There 'twas laid open, there it was made known

Out of what money-bag I had paid the host,

And what were now my thanks, what had I now

That I, a faithful servant of the sovereign,

Had loaded on myself the people's curses,

And let the princes of the empire pay

The expenses of this war that aggrandizes

The emperor alone. What thanks had I?

What? I was offered up to their complaint

Dismissed, degraded!

QUESTENBERG.

But your highness knows

What little freedom he possessed of action

In that disastrous Diet.

WALLENSTEIN.

Death and hell!

I had that which could have procured him freedom

No! since 'twas proved so inauspicious to me

To serve the emperor at the empire's cost,

I have been taught far other trains of thinking

Of the empire and the Diet of the empire.

From the emperor, doubtless, I received this staff,

But now I hold it as the empire's general,-

For the common weal, the universal interest,

And no more for that one man's aggrandizement!

But to the point. What is it that's desired of me?

Вы читаете The Piccolomini (play)
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