_Countess, Thekla, Wallenstein, Duchess._

Countess. How, sister? What already upon business, And business of no pleasing kind I see, Ere he has gladdened at his child. The first Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father! This is thy daughter.

(THEKLA approaches with a shy and timid air, and bends herself as about to kiss his hand. He receives her in his arms, and remains standing for some time lost in the feeling of her presence.)

Wallenstein. Yes! pure and lovely hath hope risen on me: I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.

Duchess. 'Twas but a little child when you departed To raise up that great army for the Emperor: And after, at the close of the campaign, When you returned home out of Pomerania, Your daughter was already in the convent, Wherein she has remain'd till now.

Wallenstein. The while We in the field here gave our cares and toils To make her great, and fight her a free way To the loftiest earthly good, lo! mother Nature Within the peaceful silent convent walls Has done her part, and out of her free grace Hath she bestowed on the beloved child The godlike; and now leads her thus adorned To meet her splendid fortune, and my hope.

Duchess (to Thekla). Thou wouldst not have recognized thy father, Wouldst thou, my child? She counted scarce eight years, When last she saw your face.

Thekla. O yes, yes, mother! At the first glance!--My father is not altered. The form, that stands before me, falsifies No feature of the image that hath lived So long within me!

Wallenstein. The voice of my child!

[Then after a pause.

I was indignant at my destiny That it denied me a man-child to be Heir of my name and of my prosperous fortune, And re-illume my soon extinguished being In a proud line of princes. I wronged my destiny. Here upon this head So lovely in its maiden bloom will I Let fall the garland of a life of war, Nor deem it lost, if only I can wreath it Transmitted to a regal ornament, Around these beauteous brows.

[He clasps her in his arms as PICCOLOMINI enters.