Коллектив авторов - The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 03

BUTLER.

Your insolent scoff shall not go by unpunish'd.

Draw!

OCTAVIO.

Nay! your sword to 'ts sheath! and tell me calmly,

How all that happen'd. I will not refuse you

Your satisfaction afterward. Calmly, Butler!

BUTLER.

Be the whole world acquainted with the weakness

For which I never can forgive myself.

Lieutenant-General! Yes; I have ambition.

Ne'er was I able to endure contempt.

It stung me to the quick, that birth and title

Should have more weight than merit has in the army.

I would fain not be meaner than my equal,

So in an evil hour I let myself

Be tempted to that measure. It was folly!

But yet so hard a penance it deserved not.

It might have been refused; but wherefore barb

And venom the refusal with contempt?

Why dash to earth and crush with heaviest scorn

The gray-hair'd man, the faithful veteran?

Why to the baseness of his parentage

Refer him with such cruel roughness, only

Because he had a weak hour and forgot himself?

But nature gives a sting e'en to the worm

Which wanton Power treads on in sport and

insult.

OCTAVIO.

You must have been calumniated. Guess you

The enemy who did you this ill service?

BUTLER.

Be't who it will—a most low-hearted scoundrel!

Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard,

Some young squire of some ancient family,

In whose light I may stand; some envious knave,

Stung to his soul by my fair self-earn'd honors!

OCTAVIO.

But tell me, did the Duke approve that measure?

BUTLER.

Himself impell'd me to it, used his interest

In my behalf with all the warmth of friendship.

OCTAVIO.

Ay? are you sure of that?

BUTLER.

I read the letter.

OCTAVIO.

And so did I—but the contents were different.

[BUTLER is suddenly struck .]

By chance I'm in possession of that letter—

Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you.

[ He gives him the letter .]

BUTLER.

Ha! what is this?

OCTAVIO.

An infamous game have they been playing with you.

The Duke, you say, impell'd you to this measure?

Now, in this letter, talks he in contempt

Concerning you; counsels the minister

To give sound chastisement to your conceit,

For so he calls it.

[BUTLER reads through the letter; his knees tremble, he seizes a chair, and sinks down in it .]

You have no enemy, no persecutor;

There's no one wishes ill to you. Ascribe

The insult you received to the Duke only.

His aim is clear and palpable. He wish'd

To tear you from your Emperor: he hoped

To gain from your revenge what he well knew

(What your long-tried fidelity convinced him)

He ne'er could dare expect from your calm reason.

A blind tool would he make you, in contempt

Use you, as means of most abandoned ends.

He has gained his point. Too well has he succeeded

In luring you away from that good path

On which you had been journeying forty years!

BUTLER (his voice trembling) .

Can e'er the Emperor's Majesty forgive me?

OCTAVIO.

More than forgive you. He would fain compensate

For that affront, and most unmerited grievance

Sustain'd by a deserving gallant veteran.

From his free impulse he confirms the present,

Which the Duke made you for a wicked purpose.

The regiment, which you now command, is yours.

[BUTLER attempts to rise, sinks down again. He labors

inwardly with violent emotions; tries to speak, and cannot.

At length he takes his sword from the belt, and offers it to

PICCOLOMINI.]

OCTAVIO.

What wish you? Recollect yourself, friend.

BUTLER.

Take it.

OCTAVIO.

But to what purpose? Calm yourself.

BUTLER.

I am no longer worthy of this sword.

OCTAVIO.

Receive it then anew, from my hands—and

Wear it with honor for the right cause ever.

BUTLER.

Perjure myself to such a gracious Sovereign!

OCTAVIO.

You'll make amends. Quick! break off from the Duke!

BUTLER.

Break off from him!

OCTAVIO.

What now? Bethink thyself.

BUTLER ( no longer governing his emotion ).

Only break off from him? He dies! he dies!

OCTAVIO.

Come after me to Frauenburg, where now

All who are loyal are assembling under

Counts Altringer and Gallas. Many others

I've brought to a remembrance of their duty:

This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen.

BUTLER ( strides up and down in excessive agitation, then steps up to OCTAVIO with resolved countenance ).

Count Piccolomini! dare that man speak

Of honor to you, who once broke his troth.

OCTAVIO.

He, who repents so deeply of it, dares.

BUTLER.

Then leave me here upon my word of honor!

OCTAVIO.

What's your design?

BUTLER.

Leave me and my regiment.

OCTAVIO.

I have full confidence in you. But tell me

What are you brooding?

BUTLER.

That the deed will tell you.

Ask me no more at present. Trust to me.

Ye may trust safely. By the living God

Ye give him over, not to his good angel!

Farewell.

[ Exit BUTLER.]

SERVANT ( enters with a billet ).

The Prince Duke's horses wait for you below.

[ Exit SERVANT.]

OCTAVIO ( reads ).

"Be sure make haste! Your faithful Isolan."

–O that I had but left this town behind me.

To split upon a rock so near the haven!—Away!

This is no longer a safe place

For me! Where can my son be tarrying!

OCTAVIO and MAX PICCOLOWINI

[MAX enters almost in a state of derangement, from extreme agitation; his eyes roll wildly, his walk is unsteady, and he appears not to observe his father, who stands at a distance, and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of compassion. He paces with long strides through the chamber, then stands still again, and at last throws himself into a chair, staring 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.

MAX.

Farewell.

OCTAVIO.

Thou wilt soon follow me?

MAX.

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 come 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 demon, it is thou