Read the book: «The Piccolomini», page 7

 
                     Duke Friedland
   Hath made his preparations. He relies
   Upon the stars. He deems us unprovided,
   And thinks to fall upon us by surprise.
   Yea, in his dream of hope, he grasps already
   The golden circle in his hand. He errs,
   We, too, have been in action – he but grasps
   His evil fate, most evil, most mysterious!
 

MAX

 
   Oh, nothing rash, my sire! By all that's good,
   Let me invoke thee – no precipitation!
 

OCTAVIO

 
   With light tread stole he on his evil way,
   And light of tread hath vengeance stole on after him.
   Unseen she stands already, dark behind him
   But one step more – he shudders in her grasp!
   Thou hast seen Questenberg with me. As yet
   Thou knowest but his ostensible commission:
   He brought with him a private one, my son!
   And that was for me only.
 

MAX

 
                 May I know it?
 

OCTAVIO (seizes the patent)

 
                         Max!
   In this disclosure place I in thy hands
 

[A pause.

 
   The empire's welfare and thy father's life.
   Dear to thy inmost heart is Wallenstein
   A powerful tie of love, of veneration,
   Hath knit thee to him from thy earliest youth.
   Thou nourishest the wish, – O let me still
   Anticipate thy loitering confidence!
   The hope thou nourishest to knit thyself
   Yet closer to him —
 

MAX

 
              Father —
 

OCTAVIO

 
                   Oh, my son!
   I trust thy heart undoubtingly. But am I
   Equally sure of thy collectedness?
   Wilt thou be able, with calm countenance,
   To enter this man's presence, when that I
   Have trusted to thee his whole fate?
 

MAX

 
                      According
   As thou dost trust me, father, with his crime.
 

[OCTAVIO takes a paper out of his escritoire and gives it to him.

MAX

 
   What! how! a full imperial patent!
 

OCTAVIO

 
                     Read it.
 

MAX. (just glances on it)

 
   Duke Friedland sentenced and condemned!
 

OCTAVIO

 
                        Even so.
 

MAX. (throws down the paper)

 
   Oh, this is too much! O unhappy error!
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Read on. Collect thyself.
 

MAX. (after he has read further, with a look of affright and astonishment on his father)

 
                 How! what! Thou! thou!
 

OCTAVIO

 
   But for the present moment, till the King
   Of Hungary may safely join the army,
   Is the command assigned to me.
 

MAX

 
                   And think'st thou,
   Dost thou believe, that thou wilt tear it from him?
   Oh, never hope it! Father! father! father!
   An inauspicious office is enjoined thee.
   This paper here! – this! and wilt thou enforce it?
   The mighty in the middle of his host,
   Surrounded by his thousands, him wouldst thou
   Disarm – degrade! Thou art lost, both thou and all of us.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   What hazard I incur thereby, I know.
   In the great hand of God I stand. The Almighty
   Will cover with his shield the imperial house,
   And shatter, in his wrath, the work of darkness.
   The emperor hath true servants still; and even
   Here in the camp, there are enough brave men
   Who for the good cause will fight gallantly.
   The faithful have been warned – the dangerous
   Are closely watched. I wait but the first step,
   And then immediately —
 

Max

 
               What? On suspicion?
   Immediately?
 

OCTAVIO

 
          The emperor is no tyrant.
   The deed alone he'll punish, not the wish.
   The duke hath yet his destiny in his power.
   Let him but leave the treason uncompleted,
   He will be silently displaced from office,
   And make way to his emperor's royal son.
   An honorable exile to his castles
   Will be a benefaction to him rather
   Than punishment. But the first open step —
 

MAX

 
   What callest thou such a step? A wicked step
   Ne'er will he take; but thou mightest easily,
   Yea, thou hast done it, misinterpret him.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Nay, howsoever punishable were
   Duke Friedland's purposes, yet still the steps
   Which he hath taken openly permit
   A mild construction. It is my intention
   To leave this paper wholly unenforced
   Till some act is committed which convicts him
   Of high treason, without doubt or plea,
   And that shall sentence him.
 

MAX

 
                  But who the judge
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Thyself.
 

MAX

 
        Forever, then, this paper will lie idle.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Too soon, I fear, its powers must all be proved.
   After the counter-promise of this evening,
   It cannot be but he must deem himself
   Secure of the majority with us;
   And of the army's general sentiment
   He hath a pleasing proof in that petition,
   Which thou delivered'st to him from the regiments.
   Add this too – I have letters that the Rhinegrave
   Hath changed his route, and travels by forced marches
   To the Bohemian forests. What this purports
   Remains unknown; and, to confirm suspicion,
   This night a Swedish nobleman arrived here.
 

MAX

 
   I have thy word. Thou'lt not proceed to action
   Before thou hast convinced me – me myself.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Is it possible? Still, after all thou know'st,
   Canst thou believe still in his innocence?
 

MAX. (with enthusiasm)

 
   Thy judgment may mistake; my heart cannot.
         [Moderates his voice and manner.
   These reasons might expound thy spirit or mine;
   But they expound not Friedland – I have faith:
   For as he knits his fortunes to the stars,
   Even so doth he resemble them in secret,
   Wonderful, still inexplicable courses!
   Trust me, they do him wrong. All will be solved.
   These smokes at once will kindle into flame —
   The edges of this black and stormy cloud
   Will brighten suddenly, and we shall view
   The unapproachable glide out in splendor.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   I will await it.
 

SCENE II

OCTAVIO and MAX. as before. To then the VALET OF THE CHAMBER.

OCTAVIO

 
   How now, then?
 

VALET

 
           A despatch is at the door.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   So early? From whom comes he then? Who is it?
 

VALET

 
   That he refused to tell me.
 

OCTAVIO

 
                  Lead him in:
   And, hark you – let it not transpire.
 

[Exit VALET: the CORNET steps in.

OCTAVIO

 
   Ha! cornet – is it you; and from Count Gallas?
   Give me your letters.
 

CORNET

 
               The lieutenant-general
   Trusted it not to letters.
 

OCTAVIO

 
                 And what is it?
 

CORNET

 
   He bade me tell you – Dare I speak openly here?
 

OCTAVIO

 
   My son knows all.
 

CORNET

 
             We have him.
 

OCTAVIO

 
                    Whom?
 

CORNET

 
                       Sesina,
   The old negotiator.
 

OCTAVIO (eagerly)

 
              And you have him?
 

CORNET

 
   In the Bohemian Forest Captain Mohrbrand
   Found and secured him yester-morning early.
   He was proceeding then to Regensburg,
   And on him were despatches for the Swede.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   And the despatches —
 

CORNET

 
              The lieutenant-general
   Sent them that instant to Vienna, and
   The prisoner with them.
 

OCTAVIO

 
                This is, indeed, a tiding!
   That fellow is a precious casket to us,
   Enclosing weighty things. Was much found on him?
 

CORNET

 
   I think, six packets, with Count Terzky's arms.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   None in the duke's own hand?
 

CORNET

 
                  Not that I know.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   And old Sesina.
 

CORNET

 
            He was sorely frightened.
   When it was told him he must to Vienna;
   But the Count Altringer bade him take heart,
   Would he but make a full and free confession.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Is Altringer then with your lord? I heard
   That he lay sick at Linz.
 

CORNET

 
                 These three days past
   He's with my master, the lieutenant-general,
   At Frauenburg. Already have they sixty
   Small companies together, chosen men;
   Respectfully they greet you with assurances,
   That they are only waiting your commands.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   In a few days may great events take place.
   And when must you return?
 

CORNET

 
                 I wait your orders.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Remain till evening.
 

[CORNET signifies his assent and obeisance, and is going.

 
              No one saw you – ha?
 

CORNET

 
   No living creature. Through the cloister wicket
   The capuchins, as usual, let me in.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Go, rest your limbs, and keep yourself concealed.
   I hold it probable that yet ere evening
   I shall despatch you. The development
   Of this affair approaches: ere the day,
   That even now is dawning in the heaven,
   Ere this eventful day hath set, the lot
   That must decide our fortunes will be drawn.
 

[Exit CORNET.

SCENE III

OCTAVIO and MAX. PICCOLOMINI.

OCTAVIO

 
   Well – and what now, son? All will soon be clear;
   For all, I'm certain, went through that Sesina.
   MAX. (who through the whole of the foregoing scene has been in
      a violent and visible struggle of feelings, at length starts
      as one resolved).
   I will procure me light a shorter way.
   Farewell.
 

OCTAVIO

 
        Where now? Remain here.
 

MAX

 
                     To the Duke.
 

OCTAVIO (alarmed)

 
   What —
 

MAX. (returning)

 
       If thou hast believed that I shall act
   A part in this thy play, thou hast
   Miscalculated on me grievously.
   My way must be straight on. True with the tongue,
   False with the heart – I may not, cannot be
   Nor can I suffer that a man should trust me —
   As his friend trust me – and then lull my conscience
   With such low pleas as these: "I ask him not —
   He did it all at his own hazard – and
   My mouth has never lied to him." No, no!
   What a friend takes me for, that I must be.
   I'll to the duke; ere yet this day is ended
   Will I demand of him that he do save
   His good name from the world, and with one stride
   Break through and rend this fine-spun web of yours.
   He can, he will! I still am his believer,
   Yet I'll not pledge myself, but that those letters
   May furnish you, perchance, with proofs against him.
   How far may not this Terzky have proceeded —
   What may not he himself too have permitted
   Himself to do, to snare the enemy,
   The laws of war excusing? Nothing, save
   His own mouth shall convict him – nothing less!
   And face to face will I go question him.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   Thou wilt.
 

MAX

 
         I will, as sure as this heart beats.
 

OCTAVIO

 
   I have, indeed, miscalculated on thee.
   I calculated on a prudent son,
   Who would have blessed the hand beneficent
   That plucked him back from the abyss – and lo!
   A fascinated being I discover,
   Whom his two eyes befool, whom passion wilders,
   Whom not the broadest light of noon can heal.
   Go, question him! Be mad enough, I pray thee.
   The purpose of thy father, of thy emperor,
   Go, give it up free booty! Force me, drive me
   To an open breach before the time. And now,
   Now that a miracle of heaven had guarded
   My secret purpose even to this hour,
   And laid to sleep suspicion's piercing eyes,
   Let me have lived to see that mine own son,
   With frantic enterprise, annihilates
   My toilsome labors and state policy.
 

MAX

 
   Ay – this state policy! Oh, how I curse it!
   You will some time, with your state policy,
   Compel him to the measure: it may happen,
   Because ye are determined that he is guilty,
   Guilty ye'll make him. All retreat cut off,
   You close up every outlet, hem him in
   Narrower and narrower, till at length ye force him —
   Yes, ye, ye force him, in his desperation,
   To set fire to his prison. Father! father!
   That never can end well – it cannot – will not!
   And let it be decided as it may,
   I see with boding heart the near approach
   Of an ill-starred, unblest catastrophe.
   For this great monarch-spirit, if he fall,
   Will drag a world into the ruin with him.
   And as a ship that midway on the ocean
   Takes fire, at once, and with a thunder-burst
   Explodes, and with itself shoots out its crew
   In smoke and ruin betwixt sea and heaven!
   So will he, falling, draw down in his fall
   All us, who're fixed and mortised to his fortune,
   Deem of it what thou wilt; but pardon me,
   That I must bear me on in my own way.
   All must remain pure betwixt him and me;
   And, ere the daylight dawns, it must be known
   Which I must lose – my father or my friend.
 

[During his exit the curtain drops.