SCENE IX

COUNTESS, DUCHESS, MAX, and THEKLA.

Countess (to the Duchess). Let them but see him--there is hope still, sister.

Duchess. Hope! I have none!

Max (who during the last scene has been standing at a distance, advances). This can I not endure. With most determined soul did I come hither, My purposed action seemed unblameable To my own conscience--and I must stand here Like one abhorred, a hard inhuman being; Yea, loaded with the curse of all I love! Must see all whom I love in this sore anguish, Whom I with one word can make happy--O! My heart revolts within me, and two voices Make themselves audible within my bosom. My soul's benighted; I no longer can Distinguish the right track. O, well and truly Didst thou say, father, I relied too much On my own heart. My mind moves to and fro-- I know not what to do.

Countess. What! you know not? Does not your own heart tell you? O! then I Will tell it you. Your father is a traitor, A frightful traitor to us--he has plotted Against our General's life, has plunged us all In misery--and you're his son! 'Tis yours To make the amends--Make you the son's fidelity Outweigh the father's treason, that the name Of Piccolomini be not a proverb Of infamy, a common form of cursing To the posterity of Wallenstein.

Max. Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow? It speaks no longer in my heart. We all But utter what our passionate wishes dictate: O that an angel would descend from Heaven, And scoop for me the right, the uncorrupted, With a pure hand from the pure Fount of Light.

[His eyes glance on THEKLA.

What other angel seek I? To this heart, To this unerring heart, will I submit it, Will ask thy love, which has the power to bless The happy man alone, averted ever From the disquieted and guilty--canst thou Still love me, if I stay? Say that thou canst, And I am the Duke's----

Countess. Think, niece----

Max. Think nothing, Thekla! Speak what thou feelest.

Countess. Think upon your father.

Max. I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. Thee, the beloved and the unerring god Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake? Not whether diadem of royalty Be to be won or not--that might'st thou think on. Thy friend, and his soul's quiet, are at stake; The fortune of a thousand gallant men, Who will all follow me; shall I forswear My oath and duty to the Emperor? Say, shall I send into Octavio's camp The parricidal ball? For when the ball Has left its cannon, and is on its flight, It is no longer a dead instrument! It lives, a spirit passes into it, The avenging furies seize possession of it, And with sure malice guide it the worst way.

Thekla. O! Max----

Max. Nay, not precipitately either, Thekla. I understand thee. To thy noble heart The hardest duty might appear the highest. The human, not the great part, would I act. Ev'n from my childhood to this present hour, Think what the Duke has done for me, how loved me, And think too, how my father has repaid him. O likewise the free lovely impulses Of hospitality, the pious friend's Faithful attachment, these too are a holy Religion to the heart; and heavily The shudderings of nature do avenge Themselves on the barbarian that insults them. Lay all upon the balance, all--then speak, And let thy heart decide it.

Thekla. O, thy own Hath long ago decided. Follow thou Thy heart's first feeling----

Countess. Oh! ill-fated woman!

Thekla. Is it possible, that that can be the right, The which thy tender heart did not at first Detect and seize with instant impulse? Go, Fulfil thy duty! I should ever love thee. Whate'er thou had'st chosen, thou would'st still have acted Nobly and worthy of thee--but repentance Shall ne'er disturb thy soul's fair peace.

Max. Then I Must leave thee, must part from thee!

Thekla. Being faithful To thine own self, thou art faithful too to me: If our fates part, our hearts remain united. A bloody hatred will divide for ever The houses Piccolomini and Friedland; But we belong not to our houses--Go! Quick! quick! and separate thy righteous cause From our unholy and unblessed one! The curse of heaven lies upon our head: 'Tis dedicate to ruin. Even me My father's guilt drags with it to perdition. Mourn not for me: My destiny will quickly be decided.

[MAX clasps her in his arms. There is heard from behind the Scene a loud, wild, long continued cry, 'Vivat Ferdinandus,' accompanied by warlike instruments.