The Piccolomini | Page 8

You were in the right.?I should have warned him. Now it is too late.
QUESTENBERG.?But what's too late? Bethink yourself, my friend,?That you are talking absolute riddles to me.
OCTAVIO (more collected).?Come I to the duke's. 'Tis close upon the hour?Which he appointed you for audience. Come!?A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey!
[He leads QUESTENBERG off.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Changes to a spacious chamber in the house of the Duke of Friedland. Servants employed in putting the tables and chairs in order. During this enters SENI, like an old Italian doctor, in black, and clothed somewhat fantastically. He carries a white staff, with which he marks out the quarters of the heavens.
FIRST SERVANT. Come--to it, lads, to it! Make an end of it. I hear the sentry call out, "Stand to your arms!" They will be here in a minute.
SECOND SERVANT. Why were we not told before that the audience would be held here? Nothing prepared--no orders--no instructions.
THIRD SERVANT. Ay, and why was the balcony chamber countermanded, that with the great worked carpet? There one can look about one.
FIRST SERVANT. Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. He says it is an unlucky chamber.
SECOND SERVANT. Poh! stuff and nonsense! that's what I call a hum. A chamber is a chamber; what much can the place signify in the affair?
SENI (with gravity).?My son, there's nothing insignificant,?Nothing! But yet in every earthly thing,?First and most principal is place and time.
FIRST SERVANT (to the second). Say nothing to him, Nat. The duke himself must let him have his own will.
SENI (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low voice, till
he comes to eleven, which he repeats).?Eleven! an evil number! Set twelve chairs.?Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac: five and seven,?The holy numbers, include themselves in twelve.
SECOND SERVANT. And what may you have to object against eleven? I should like to know that now.
SENI.?Eleven is transgression; eleven oversteps?The ten commandments.
SECOND SERVANT. That's good? and why do you call five a holy number?
SENI.?Five is the soul of man: for even as man?Is mingled up of good and evil, so?The five is the first number that's made up?Of even and odd.
SECOND SERVANT. The foolish old coxcomb!
FIRST SERVANT. Ay! let him alone though. I like to hear him; there is more in his words than can be seen at first sight.
THIRD SERVANT. Off, they come.
SECOND SERVANT. There! Out at the side-door.
[They hurry off: SENI follows slowly. A page brings the staff of command on a red cushion, and places it on the table, near the duke's chair. They are announced from without, and the wings of the door fly open.
SCENE II.
WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.
WALLENSTEIN.?You went, then, through Vienna, were presented?To the Queen of Hungary?
DUCHESS.?Yes; and to the empress, too,?And by both majesties were we admitted?To kiss the hand.
WALLENSTEIN.
And how was it received,?That I had sent for wife and daughter hither?To the camp, in winter-time?
DUCHESS.
I did even that?Which you commissioned me to do. I told them?You had determined on our daughter's marriage,?And wished, ere yet you went into the field,?To show the elected husband his betrothed.
WALLENSTEIN.?And did they guess the choice which I had made?
DUCHESS.?They only hoped and wished it may have fallen?Upon no foreign nor yet Lutheran noble.
WALLENSTEIN.?And you--what do you wish, Elizabeth?
DUCHESS.?Your will, you know, was always mine.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause).
Well, then,--?And in all else, of what kind and complexion?Was your reception at the court?
[The DUCHESS casts her eyes on the ground, and remains silent. Hide nothing from me. How were you received?
DUCHESS.?O! my dear lord, all is not what it was.?A canker-worm, my lord, a canker-worm?Has stolen into the bud.
WALLENSTEIN.
Ay! is it so??What, they were lax? they failed of the old respect?
DUCHESS.?Not of respect. No honors were omitted,?No outward courtesy; but in the place?Of condescending, confidential kindness,?Familiar and endearing, there were given me?Only these honors and that solemn courtesy.?Ah! and the tenderness which was put on,?It was the guise of pity, not of favor.?No! Albrecht's wife, Duke Albrecht's princely wife,?Count Harrach's noble daughter, should not so--?Not wholly so should she have been received.
WALLENSTEIN.?Yes, yes; they have taken offence. My latest conduct?They railed at it, no doubt.
DUCHESS.
O that they had!?I have been long accustomed to defend you,?To heal and pacify distempered spirits.?No; no one railed at you. They wrapped them up,?O Heaven! in such oppressive, solemn silence!?Here is no every-day misunderstanding,?No transient pique, no cloud that passes over;?Something most luckless, most unhealable,?Has taken place. The Queen of Hungary?Used formerly to call me her dear aunt,?And ever at departure to embrace me----
WALLENSTEIN.?Now she omitted it?
DUCHESS (wiping away her tears after a pause).
She did embrace me,?But then first when I had already taken?My formal leave, and when the door already?Had closed upon me, then did she come out?In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,?And pressed me to her bosom, more with anguish?Than tenderness.
WALLENSTEIN (seizes her hand soothingly).
Nay, now