Samuel Coleridge - The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Be done, let only some decisive blow

Set us in motion.

Illo. Besides, ‘tis of subordinate importance

How, or how far, we may thereby propel

The generals. ‘Tis enough that we persuade 35

The Duke, that they are his — Let him but act

In his determined mood, as if he had them,

And he will have them. Where he plunges in,

He makes a whirlpool, and all stream down to it.

Tertsky. His policy is such a labyrinth, 40

That many a time when I have thought myself

Close at his side, he’s gone at once, and left me

Ignorant of the ground where I was standing.

He lends the enemy his ear, permits me

To write to them, to Arnheim; to Sesina 45

Himself comes forward blank and undisguised;

Talks with us by the hour about his plans,

And when I think I have him — off at once ——

He has slipped from me, and appears as if

He had no scheme, but to retain his place. 50

Illo. He give up his old plans! I’ll tell you, friend!

His soul is occupied with nothing else,

Even in his sleep — They are his thoughts, his dreams,

That day by day he questions for this purpose

The motions of the planets ——

Tertsky. Ay! you know 55

This night, that is now coming, he with Seni

Shuts himself up in the astrological tower

To make joint observations — for I hear,

It is to be a night of weight and crisis;

And something great, and of long expectation, 60

Is to make its procession in the heaven.

Illo. Come! be we bold and make dispatch. The work

In this next day or two must thrive and grow

More than it has for years. And let but only

Things first turn up auspicious here below —— 65

Mark what I say — the right stars too will shew themselves.

Come, to the generals. All is in the glow,

And must be beaten while ‘tis malleable.

Tertsky. Do you go thither, Illo. I must stay

And wait here for the Countess Tertsky. Know 70

That we too are not idle. Break one string,

A second is in readiness.

Illo. Yes! Yes!

I saw your Lady smile with such sly meaning.

What’s in the wind?

Tertsky. A secret. Hush! she comes. [Exit ILLO.

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The COUNTESS steps out from a Closet.

COUNT and COUNTESS TERTSKY.

Tertsky. Well — is she coming? — I can keep him back

No longer.

Countess. She will be there instantly.

You only send him.

Tertsky. I am not quite certain,

I must confess it, Countess, whether or not

We are earning the Duke’s thanks hereby. You know, 5

No ray has broken from him on this point.

You have o’erruled me, and yourself know best

How far you dare proceed.

Countess. I take it on me.

[Talking to herself, while she is advancing.

Here’s no need of full powers and commissions —

My cloudy Duke! we understand each other — 10

And without words. What, could I not unriddle,

Wherefore the daughter should be sent for hither,

Why first he, and no other, should be chosen

To fetch her hither! This sham of betrothing her

To a bridegroom, whom no one knows — No! no! —— 15

This may blind others! I see through thee, Brother!

But it beseems thee not, to draw a card

At such a game. Not yet! — It all remains

Mutely delivered up to my finessing ——

Well — thou shalt not have been deceived, Duke Friedland!

In her who is thy sister. —— 20

Servant (enters). The commanders!

Tertsky (to the Countess). Take care you heat his fancy and

affections —

Possess him with a reverie, and send him,

Absent and dreaming, to the banquet; that

He may not boggle at the signature. 25

Countess. Take you care of your guests! — Go, send him hither.

Tertsky. All rests upon his undersigning.

Countess. Go to your guests! Go ——

Illo (comes back). Where art staying, Tertsky?

The house is full, and all expecting you. 30

Tertsky. Instantly! Instantly! [To the COUNTESS.

And let him not

Stay here too long. It might awake suspicion

In the old man ——

Countess. A truce with your precautions!

[Exeunt TERTSKY and ILLO.

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COUNTESS, MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Max. Aunt Tertsky? may I venture?

[Advances to the middle of the stage, and looks

around him with uneasiness.

She’s not here!

Where is she?

Countess. Look but somewhat narrowly

In yonder corner, lest perhaps she lie

Conceal’d behind that screen.

Max. There lie her gloves!

[Snatches at them, but the COUNTESS takes them herself.

You unkind Lady! You refuse me this — 5

You make it an amusement to torment me.

Countess. And this the thanks you give me for my trouble?

Max. O, if you felt the oppression at my heart!

Since we’ve been here, so to constrain myself —

With such poor stealth to hazard words and glances — 10

These, these are not my habits!

Countess. You have still

Many new habits to acquire, young friend!

But on this proof of your obedient temper

I must continue to insist; and only

On this condition can I play the agent 15

For your concerns.

Max. But wherefore comes she not?

Where is she?

Countess. Into my hands you must place it

Whole and entire. Whom could you find, indeed,

More zealously affected to your interest?

No soul on earth must know it — not your father. 20

He must not above all.

Max. Alas! what danger?

Here is no face on which I might concentre

All the enraptured soul stirs up within me.

O Lady! tell me. Is all changed around me?

Or is it only I?

I find myself, 25

As among strangers! Not a trace is left

Of all my former wishes, former joys.

Where has it vanished to? There was a time

When even, methought, with such a world as this

I was not discontented. Now how flat! 30

How stale! No life, no bloom, no flavour in it!

My comrades are intolerable to me.

My father — Even to him I can say nothing.

My arms, my military duties — O!

They are such wearying toys!

Countess. But, gentle friend! 35

I must entreat it of your condescension,

You would be pleased to sink your eye, and favour

With one short glance or two this poor stale world,

Where even now much, and of much moment,

Is on the eve of its completion.

Max. Something, 40

I can’t but know, is going forward round me.

I see it gathering, crowding, driving on,

In wild uncustomary movements. Well,

In due time, doubtless, it will reach even me.

Where think you I have been, dear lady? Nay, 45

No raillery. The turmoil of the camp,

The spring-tide of acquaintance rolling in,

The pointless jest, the empty conversation,

Oppress’d and stifled me. I gasped for air —

I could not breathe — I was constrain’d to fly, 50

To seek a silence out for my full heart;

And a pure spot wherein to feel my happiness.

No smiling, Countess! In the church was I.

There is a cloister here to the heaven’s gate,

Thither I went, there found myself alone. 55

Over the altar hung a holy mother;

A wretched painting ‘twas, yet ‘twas the friend

That I was seeking in this moment. Ah,

How oft have I beheld that glorious form

In splendour, mid ecstatic worshippers; 60

Yet, still it moved me not! and now at once

Was my devotion cloudless as my love.

Countess. Enjoy your fortune and felicity!

Forget the world around you. Meantime, friendship