The first pledge of my fortune.
Illo. And doubt not
That his example will win over to you
The best men in the army.
Wallenstein. Go and send
Isolani hither. Send him immediately.
He is under recent obligations to me. 35
With him will I commence the trial. Go. [ILLO exit.
Wallenstein (turns himself round to the females). Lo, there the
mother with the darling daughter!
For once we’ll have an interval of rest —
Come! my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour
In the beloved circle of my family. 40
Countess. ‘Tis long since we’ve been thus together, brother.
Wallenstein (to the Countess aside). Can she sustain the news? Is
she prepared?
Countess. Not yet.
Wallenstein. Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me,
For there is a good spirit on thy lips.
Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill: 45
She says a voice of melody dwells in thee,
Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice
Will drive away from me the evil demon
That beats his black wings close above my head.
Duchess. Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father 50
Hear some small trial of thy skill.
Thekla. My mother!
I —
Duchess. Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer
Thy father.
Thekla. O my mother! I — I cannot.
Countess. How, what is that, niece?
Thekla (to the Countess). O spare me — sing — now — in this sore
anxiety, 55
Of the o’erburthen’d soul — to sing to him,
Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong
Into her grave!
Duchess. How, Thekla? Humoursome?
What! shall thy father have expressed a wish
In vain?
Countess. Here is the lute.
Thekla. My God! how can I — 60
[The orchestra plays. During the ritornello THEKLA
expresses in her gestures and countenance the
struggle of her feelings: and at the moment
that she should begin to sing, contracts
herself together, as one shuddering, throws
the instrument down, and retires abruptly.
Duchess. My child! O she is ill —
Wallenstein. What ails the maiden?
Say, is she often so?
Countess. Since then herself
Has now betrayed it, I too must no longer
Conceal it.
Wallenstein. What?
Countess. She loves him!
Wallenstein. Loves him! Whom?
Countess. Max does she love! Max Piccolomini. 65
Hast thou ne’er noticed it? Nor yet my sister?
Duchess. Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart?
God’s blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou needest
Never take shame upon thee for thy choice.
Countess. This journey, if ‘twere not thy aim, ascribe it 70
To thine own self. Thou shouldest have chosen another
To have attended her.
Wallenstein. And does he know it?
Countess. Yes, and he hopes to win her.
Wallenstein. Hopes to win her!
Is the boy mad?
Countess. Well — hear it from themselves.
Wallenstein. He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland’s daughter! 75
Aye? — The thought pleases me.
The young man has no grovelling spirit.
Countess. Since
Such and such constant favour you have shewn him —
Wallenstein. He chooses finally to be my heir.
And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honour him. 80
But must he therefore be my daughter’s husband!
Is it daughters only? Is it only children
That we must shew our favour by?
Duchess. His noble disposition and his manners —
Wallenstein. Win him my heart, but not my daughter.
Duchess. Then 85
His rank, his ancestors —
Wallenstein. Ancestors! What?
He is a subject, and my son-in-law
I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe.
Duchess. O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high.
Lest we should fall too low.
Wallenstein. What? have I paid 90
A price so heavy to ascend this eminence,
And jut out high above the common herd,
