Wallenstein/The Death of Wallenstein/A5S03
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SCENE III.
To these enter Seni.
WALLENSTEIN.
Is not that Seni? and beside himself,
If one may trust his looks! What brings thee hither
At this late hour, Baptista?
Is not that Seni? and beside himself,
If one may trust his looks! What brings thee hither
At this late hour, Baptista?
SENI.
Terror, Duke!
On thy account.
Terror, Duke!
On thy account.
WALLENSTEIN.
What now?
What now?
SENI.
Flee ere the day-break!
Trust not thy person to the Swedes!
Flee ere the day-break!
Trust not thy person to the Swedes!
WALLENSTEIN.
What now
Is in thy thoughts?
What now
Is in thy thoughts?
SENI. (with louder voice.)
Trust not thy person to these Swedes.
Trust not thy person to these Swedes.
WALLENSTEIN.
What is it then?
What is it then?
SENI. (still more urgently.)
O wait not the arrival of these Swedes!
An evil near at hand is threatening thee
From false friends. All the signs stand full of horror!
Near, near at hand the net-work of perdition—
Yea, even now 'tis being cast around thee!
O wait not the arrival of these Swedes!
An evil near at hand is threatening thee
From false friends. All the signs stand full of horror!
Near, near at hand the net-work of perdition—
Yea, even now 'tis being cast around thee!
WALLENSTEIN.
Baptista, thou art dreaming!—Fear befools thee.
Baptista, thou art dreaming!—Fear befools thee.
SENI.
Believe not that an empty fear deludes me.
Come, read it in the planetaty aspects;
Read it thyself, that ruin threatens thee
From false friends!
Believe not that an empty fear deludes me.
Come, read it in the planetaty aspects;
Read it thyself, that ruin threatens thee
From false friends!
WALLENSTEIN.
From the falseness of my friends
Has risen the whole of my unprosperous fortunes.
The warning should have come before! At present
I need no revelation from the stars
To know that.
From the falseness of my friends
Has risen the whole of my unprosperous fortunes.
The warning should have come before! At present
I need no revelation from the stars
To know that.
SENI.
Come and see! trust thine own eyes!
A fearful sign stands in the house of life
An enemy; a fiend lurks close behind
The radiance of thy planet—O be warn'd!
Deliver not thyself up to these heathens
To wage a war against our holy church.
Come and see! trust thine own eyes!
A fearful sign stands in the house of life
An enemy; a fiend lurks close behind
The radiance of thy planet—O be warn'd!
Deliver not thyself up to these heathens
To wage a war against our holy church.
WALLENSTEIN. (laughing gently.)
The oracle rails that way! Yes, yes! Now
I recollect. This junction with the Swedes
Did never please thee—lay thyself to sleep,
Baptista! Signs like these I do not fear.
The oracle rails that way! Yes, yes! Now
I recollect. This junction with the Swedes
Did never please thee—lay thyself to sleep,
Baptista! Signs like these I do not fear.
GORDON. (who during the whole of this dialogue has shewn marks of extreme agitation, and now turns to Wallenstein.)
My Duke and General! May I dare presume?
My Duke and General! May I dare presume?
WALLENSTEIN.
Speak freely.
Speak freely.
GORDON.
What? if 'twere no mere creation
Of fear, if God's high providence vouchsaf'd
To interpose its aid for your deliv'rance,
And made that mouth its organ.
What? if 'twere no mere creation
Of fear, if God's high providence vouchsaf'd
To interpose its aid for your deliv'rance,
And made that mouth its organ.
WALLENSTEIN.
Ye're both feverish!
How can mishap come to me from the Swedes?
They fought this junction with me—'tis their
interest.
Ye're both feverish!
How can mishap come to me from the Swedes?
They fought this junction with me—'tis their
interest.
GORDON. (with difficulty suppressing his emotion.)
But what if the arrival of these Swedes—
What if this were the very thing that wing'd
The ruin that is flying to your temples?
(flings himself at his feet.)
There is yet time, my Prince———
But what if the arrival of these Swedes—
What if this were the very thing that wing'd
The ruin that is flying to your temples?
(flings himself at his feet.)
There is yet time, my Prince———
SENI.
O hear him! hear him!
O hear him! hear him!
GORDON. (rises.)
The Rhinegrave's still far off. Give but the orders———
This citadel shall close its gates upon him.
If then he will besiege us, let him try it.
But this I say; he'll find his own destruction
With his whole force before these ramparts, sooner
Than weary down the valour of our spirit.
He shall experience what a band of heroes,
Inspirited by an heroic leader,
Is able to perform. And if indeed
It be thy serious wish to make amend
For that which thou hast done amiss,—this, this
Will touch and reconcile the Emperor,
Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy,
And Friedland, who returns repentant to him,
Will stand yet higher in his Emperor's favour,
Than e'er he stood when he had never fallen.
The Rhinegrave's still far off. Give but the orders———
This citadel shall close its gates upon him.
If then he will besiege us, let him try it.
But this I say; he'll find his own destruction
With his whole force before these ramparts, sooner
Than weary down the valour of our spirit.
He shall experience what a band of heroes,
Inspirited by an heroic leader,
Is able to perform. And if indeed
It be thy serious wish to make amend
For that which thou hast done amiss,—this, this
Will touch and reconcile the Emperor,
Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy,
And Friedland, who returns repentant to him,
Will stand yet higher in his Emperor's favour,
Than e'er he stood when he had never fallen.
WALLENSTEIN. (contemplates him with surprize, remains silent awhile, betraying strong emotion.)
Gordon—your zeal and fervour lead you far.
Well, well—an old friend has a privilege.
Blood, Gordon, has been flowing. Never, never
Can the Emperor pardon me and if he could,
Yet I—I ne'er could let myself be pardon'd.
Had I foreknown what now has taken place,
That he, my dearest friend, would fall for me,
My first death-offering: and had the heart
Spoken to me, as now it has done—Gordon,
It may be, I might have bethought myself.
It may be too, I might not.—Might, or might not,
Is now an idle question. All too seriously
Has it begun to end in nothing, Gordon!
Let it then have its course.
(stepping to the window.)
All dark and silent—at the castle too
All is now hush'd—Light me, Chamberlain!
(The groom of the chamber, who had entered during the last dialogue, and had been standing at a distance and listening to it with visible expressions of the deepest interest, advances in extreme agitation, and throws himself at the Duke's feet,)
And thou too! But I know why thou dost wish
My reconcilement with the Emperor.
Poor man! he hath a small estate in Cärnthen,
And fears it will be forfeited because
He's in my service. Am I then so poor,
That I no longer can indemnify
My servants? Well! To no one I employ
Means of compulsion. If 'tis thy belief
That fortune has fled from me, go! Forsake me.
This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me,
And then go over to thy Emperor.
Gordon, good night! I think to make a long
Sleep of it for the struggle and the turmoil
Of this last day or two was great. May't please you!
Take care that they awake me not too early.
[Exit Wallenstein, the Groom of the Chamber lighting him. Seni follows. Gordon remains on the darken'd stage, following the Duke with his eye, till he disappears at the farther end of the gallery: then by his gestures the old man expresses the depth of his anguish, and stands leaning against a pillar.
Gordon—your zeal and fervour lead you far.
Well, well—an old friend has a privilege.
Blood, Gordon, has been flowing. Never, never
Can the Emperor pardon me and if he could,
Yet I—I ne'er could let myself be pardon'd.
Had I foreknown what now has taken place,
That he, my dearest friend, would fall for me,
My first death-offering: and had the heart
Spoken to me, as now it has done—Gordon,
It may be, I might have bethought myself.
It may be too, I might not.—Might, or might not,
Is now an idle question. All too seriously
Has it begun to end in nothing, Gordon!
Let it then have its course.
(stepping to the window.)
All dark and silent—at the castle too
All is now hush'd—Light me, Chamberlain!
(The groom of the chamber, who had entered during the last dialogue, and had been standing at a distance and listening to it with visible expressions of the deepest interest, advances in extreme agitation, and throws himself at the Duke's feet,)
And thou too! But I know why thou dost wish
My reconcilement with the Emperor.
Poor man! he hath a small estate in Cärnthen,
And fears it will be forfeited because
He's in my service. Am I then so poor,
That I no longer can indemnify
My servants? Well! To no one I employ
Means of compulsion. If 'tis thy belief
That fortune has fled from me, go! Forsake me.
This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me,
And then go over to thy Emperor.
Gordon, good night! I think to make a long
Sleep of it for the struggle and the turmoil
Of this last day or two was great. May't please you!
Take care that they awake me not too early.
[Exit Wallenstein, the Groom of the Chamber lighting him. Seni follows. Gordon remains on the darken'd stage, following the Duke with his eye, till he disappears at the farther end of the gallery: then by his gestures the old man expresses the depth of his anguish, and stands leaning against a pillar.