« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »
Max. enters almost in a state of derangement from extreme agitation, his eyes roll wildly, his walk is unst-ady, and he appears not to ol, serve his father, who stands at a distance, and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of compassion. He paces with tong strides through the chamber, then stands still again, and at last throws himself into a chair, stariny vacantly at the object directly before him. octavio (advances to him). I am going off, my son. [Receiving no answer, he takes his hand. My son, farewell. |
I follow thee? Thy way is crooked—it is not my way. - [Octavio drops his hand, and starts back. O, hadst thou been but simple and sincere, Ne'er had it coine to this—all had stood otherwise. He had not done that foul and horrible deed, The virtuous had retain'd their influence o'er him: He had not fallen into the snares of villains. Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice Didst creep behind him—lurking for thy prey ! O, unblest falsehood' Mother of all evil! Thou misery-making daemon, it is thou That sink'st us in perdition. Simple truth, Sustainer of the world, had saved us all! Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee! Wallenstein has deceived me–0, most foully! But thou hast acted not much better. octaw Io.
Son | My son, ah! I forgive thy agony! Max. (rises, and contemplates his father with looks of suspicion). Was 't possible? hadst thou the heart, my father, Iladst thou the heart to drive it to such lengths, With cold premeditated purpose? Thou– Hadst thou the heart, to wish to see him guilty, Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall. Octavio, 't will not please me. octavio. God in Heaven MAx. 0, woe is me! sure I have changed my nature. How comes suspicion here—in the free soul? Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all Lied to me, all that I e'er loved or honour’d. No no! not all! She-she yet lives for me, And she is true, and open as the Ileavens! Deceit is every where, hypocrisy, Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury: The single holy spot is our love, The only unprofaned in human nature. oct'AW io. Max."—we will go together. T will be better. ni Ax. What? ere I've taken a last parting leave, The very last—no never! octavio. Spare thyself The pang of necessary separation. Come with me! Come, my son [Attempts to take him with him. MAA. God lives, no! octavio (more urgently). Come with me, 1 command thee! I, thy father.
M.A.X. Command me what is human. I stay here. - octavio. Max. in the Emperor's name I bid thee come. M.A.X.
No Emperor has power to prescribe
more passages whose excellence will bear reflection, than in the former productions of Schiller. The description of the Astrological Tower, and the reflections of the Young Lover, which follow it, form in the original a fine poem; and my translation must have been wretched indeed, if it can have wholly overclouded the beauties of the Scene in the first Act of the first Play between Questenberg, Max., and Octavio Piccolomini. If we except the Scene of the setting sun in the Robbers, I know of no part in Schiller's Plays which equals the whole of the first Scene of the fifth Act of the concluding Play. It would be unbecoming in me to be more diffuse on this subject. A Translator stands connected with the original Author by a certain law of subordination, which makes it more decorous to point out excellencies than defects: indeed he is not likely to be a fair judge of either. The pleasure or disgust from his own labour will mingle with the feelings that arise from an after-view of the original. Even in the first perusal of a work in any foreign language which we understand, we are apt to attribute to it thore excellence than it really possesses from our own pleasureable sense of difficulty overcome without effort. Translation of poetry into poetry is difficult, because the Translator must give a brilliancy to his language without that warmth of original conception, from which such brilliancy would follow of its own accord. But the Translator of a living Author is encumbered with additional inconveniencies. If he render his original faithfully, as to the sense of each passage, he must, necessarily, destroy a considerable portion of the spirit; if he endeavour to give a work executed according to laws of compensation, he subjects himself to imputations of vanity, or misrepresentation. I have thought it my duty to remain bound by the sense of my original, with as few exceptions as the nature of the languages rendered possible.
Wallenstein, Duke of Friedland, Generalissimo of the Imperial Forces in the Thirty-years' War.
Duchess of Faiedland, Wife of Wallenstein.
Thekla, her Daughter, Princess of Friedland.
The Coux ress Tearsky, Sister of the Duchess.
LAny Neubau NN.
Octavio Piccolomix1, Lieutenant General.
Max. Piccolomini, his son, Colonel of a Regiment of Cuirassiers.
Count Tearsky, the Commander of several Regiments, and Brother-in-law of Wallenstein.
Illo, Field Marshal, Wallenstein's Confidant.
Burlem, an Irishman, Commander of a Regiment of Dragoons.
Gordon, Governor of Egra.
Capra in Devekkux.
— — — MacDonald.
Noum ANN, Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-camp to Tertsky.
Bukoomasten of Egra.
Assposs Ape of the Cuirassiers.
Gaoons of rue CuAM bef,
A PAC, E,
Cora assikas, DnAgoons, Sehwants.
| Felonging to the Duke.
countess. It does not please me, Princess, that he holds Himself so still, exactly at this time. The RLA. Exactly at this time? countess. He now knows all : "T were now the moment to declare himself. ther, L.A. If I'm to understand you, speak less darkly. countess. 'Twas for that purpose that I bade her leave us. Thekla, you are no more a child. Your heart Is now no more in nonage: for you love, And boldness dwells with love—that you have proved. Your nature moulds itself upon your father's More than your mother's spirit. Therefore may you Hear, what were too much for her fortitude. The KLA. Enough : no further preface, I entreat you. At once, out with it! Be it what it may, It is not possible that it should torture me More than this introduction. What have you To say to me? Tell me the whole, and briefly! countess. You'll not be frighten’d——
with most implicit unconditional faith,
And glorious; with an unpolluted heart
Thou canst not hear it named, and will thou do it?
wai, LENSTEl N. It is too late. Thou knowest not what has happen'd.
Were it too late, and were things gone so far,
w Allt N's rei N.
Who bear the order on to Prague and Egra.
TERTsky. Max. Piccolomini just left you? wall-e-Nstein. Where is Wrangel? Triarsky. He is already gone. wallrwst El N. In such a hurry? to Ritsky. It is as if the earth had swallow'd him. He had scarce left thee, when I went to seek him. I wish’d some words with him—but he was gone. How, when, and where, could no one tell me. Nay, I half believe it was the devil himself; A human creature could not so at once Have vanish'd, illo (enters). Is it true that thou wilt send Octavior tertsky. How, Octavio' Whither send him! walls wstein. He goes to Frauenberg, and will lead hither The Spanish and Italian regiments. 1 L.Lo. No! Nay, Heaven forbid? wat, lenstein. And why should Heaven forbid? I LL0. Ilim — that deceiver! Wouldst thou trust to him The soldiery? Him wilt thou let slip from thee, Now, in the very instant that decides us——
Who have always trusted him? What, then, has happen'd,
wallenstein. That's not true. ILL0. O thou art blind, With thy deep-seeing eyes! wALLENSTriN. Thou wilt not shake My faith for me—my faith, which founds itself On the profoundest science. If t is false, Then the whole science of the stars is false; For know, I have a pledge from Fate itself, That he is the most faithful of my friends. 1 Llo. hast thou a pledge, that this pledge is not false? wallenstel N. There exist moments in the life of man, when he is nearer the great Soul of the world Than is man's custom, and possesses freely The power of questioning his destiny: And such a moment’t was, when in the night Before the action in the plains of Lützen, Leaning against a tree, thoughts crowding thoughts, I look'd out far upon the ominous plain. My whole life, past and future, in this moment Before my mind's eye glided in procession, And to the destiny of the next morning The spirit, fill'd with anxious presentiment, Did knit the most removed futurity. Then said I also to myself, . So many Dost thou command. They follow all thy stars, And as on some great number set their All Upon thy single head, and only man