Samuel Coleridge - The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

To thee, who like the fixed star of the pole

Wert all I gazed at on life’s trackless ocean?

O! what a rent thou makest in my heart!

The ingrained instinct of old reverence.

The holy habit of obediency, 55

Must I pluck live asunder from thy name?

Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me —

It always was as a god looking at me!

Duke Wallenstein, its power is not departed:

The senses still are in thy bonds, although, 60

Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself.

Wallenstein. Max, hear me.

Max. O! do it not, I pray thee, do it not!

There is a pure and noble soul within thee,

Knows not of this unblest, unlucky doing.

Thy will is chaste, it is thy fancy only 65

Which hath polluted thee — and innocence,

It will not let itself be driven away

From that world-awing aspect. Thou wilt not,

Thou canst not, end in this. It would reduce

All human creatures to disloyalty 70

Against the nobleness of their own nature.

‘Twill justify the vulgar misbelief,

Which holdeth nothing noble in free will,

And trusts itself to impotence alone

Made powerful only in an unknown power. 75

Wallenstein. The world will judge me sternly, I expect it.

Already have I said to my own self

All thou canst say to me. Who but avoids

The extreme, — can he by going round avoid it?

But here there is no choice. Yes — I must use 80

Or suffer violence — so stands the case,

There remains nothing possible but that.

Max. O that is never possible for thee!

‘Tis the last desperate resource of those

Cheap souls, to whom their honour, their good name 85

Is their poor saving, their last worthless keep,

Which having staked and lost, they stake themselves

In the mad rage of gaming. Thou art rich,

And glorious; with an unpolluted heart

Thou canst make conquest of whate’er seems highest! 90

But he, who once hath acted infamy,

Does nothing more in this world.

Wallenstein (grasps his hand). Calmly, Max!

Much that is great and excellent will we

Perform together yet. And if we only

Stand on the height with dignity, ‘tis soon 95

Forgotten, Max, by what road we ascended.

Believe me, many a crown shines spotless now,

That yet was deeply sullied in the winning.

To the evil spirit doth the earth belong,

Not to the good. All, that the powers divine 100

Send from above, are universal blessings:

Their light rejoices us, their air refreshes,

But never yet was man enriched by them:

In their eternal realm no property

Is to be struggled for — all there is general. 105

The jewel, the all-valued gold we win

From the deceiving Powers, depraved in nature,

That dwell beneath the day and blessed sunlight.

Not without sacrifices are they rendered

Propitious, and there lives no soul on earth 110

That e’er retired unsullied from their service.

Max. Whate’er is human, to the human being

Do I allow — and to the vehement

And striving spirit readily I pardon

The excess of action; but to thee, my General! 115

Above all others make I large concession.

For thou must move a world, and be the master —

He kills thee, who condemns thee to inaction.

So be it then! maintain thee in thy post

By violence. Resist the Emperor, 120

And if it must be, force with force repel:

I will not praise it, yet I can forgive it.

But not — not to the traitor — yes! — the word

Is spoken out ——

Not to the traitor can I yield a pardon. 125

That is no mere excess! that is no error

Of human nature — that is wholly different,

O that is black, black as the pit of hell!

Thou canst not hear it nam’d, and wilt thou do it?

O turn back to thy duty. That thou canst, 130

I hold it certain. Send me to Vienna.

I’ll make thy peace for thee with the Emperor.

He knows thee not. But I do know thee. He

Shall see thee, Duke! with my unclouded eye,

And I bring back his confidence to thee. 135

Wallenstein. It is too late. Thou knowest not what has happened.

Max. Were it too late, and were things gone so far,

That a crime only could prevent thy fall,

Then — fall! fall honourably, even as thou stood’st.

Lose the command. Go from the stage of war. 140

Thou canst with splendour do it — do it too

With innocence. Thou hast liv’d much for others,

At length live thou for thy own self. I follow thee.

My destiny I never part from thine.

Wallenstein. It is too late! Even now, while thou art losing 145

Thy words, one after the other are the mile-stones

Left fast behind by my post couriers,

Who bear the order on to Prague and Egra.

Yield thyself to it. We act as we are forced.

I cannot give assent to my own shame 150

And ruin. Thou — no — thou canst not forsake me!

So let us do, what must be done, with dignity,

With a firm step. What am I doing worse

Than did famed Cæsar at the Rubicon,

When he the legions led against his country, 155

The which his country had delivered to him?

Had he thrown down the sword, he had been lost,

As I were, if I but disarmed myself.

I trace out something in me of his spirit.

Give me his luck, that other thing I’ll bear. 160

[MAX quits him abruptly. WALLENSTEIN, startled and

overpowered, continues looking after him, and

is still in this posture when TERTSKY enters.

[After 128] [WALLENSTEIN betrays a sudden agitation. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 148] [MAX stands as convulsed, with a gesture and countenance

expressing the most intense anguish. 1800, 1828, 1829.

Table of Contents

WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY.

Tertsky. Max Piccolomini just left you?

Wallenstein. Where is Wrangel?

Tertsky. He is already gone.

Wallenstein. In such a hurry?

Tertsky. It is as if the earth had swallowed him.

He had scarce left thee, when I went to seek him.

I wished some words with him — but he was gone. 5

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 vanished.

Illo (enters). Is it true that thou wilt send

Octavio?

Tertsky. How, Octavio! Whither send him? 10

Wallenstein. He goes to Frauenberg, and will lead hither

The Spanish and Italian regiments.

Illo. No!

Nay, Heaven forbid!

Wallenstein. And why should Heaven forbid?

Illo. Him! — that deceiver! Would’st thou trust to him

The soldiery? Him wilt thou let slip from thee, 15

Now, in the very instant that decides us ——

Tertsky. Thou wilt not do this! — No! I pray thee, no!

Wallenstein. Ye are whimsical.

Illo. O but for this time, Duke,

Yield to our warning! Let him not depart.

Wallenstein. And why should I not trust him only this time, 20

Who have always trusted him? What, then, has happened,

That I should lose my good opinion of him?

In complaisance to your whims, not my own,

I must, forsooth, give up a rooted judgment.

Think not I am a woman. Having trusted him 25

E’en till to-day, to-day too will I trust him.

Tertsky. Must it be he — he only? Send another.

Wallenstein. It must be he, whom I myself have chosen;

He is well fitted for the business. Therefore

I gave it him.

Illo. Because he’s an Italian — 30

Therefore is he well fitted for the business.

Wallenstein. I know you love them not — nor sire nor son —

Because that I esteem them, love them — visibly