WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).

Lamormain! what faid he?

DUCHESS.

That you're accufed of having daringly
O'erftepp'd the powers entrusted to you, charg'd
With traiterous contempt of th' Emperor
And his fupreme behefts. The proud Bavarian,
He and the Spaniards ftand up your accufers.-
That there's a ftorm collecting over you

Of far more fearful menace than that former one
Which whirl'd you headlong down at Regensburg.
And people talk, faid he, of Ah!

(Aifling extreme emotion.)

WALLENSTEIN.

WALLENSTEIN.

Talk they?

(Strides across the chamber in vehement agitation) O! they force, they thrust me

With violence, against my own will, onward!
DUCHESS. (presses near to him, in entreaty.)
O! if there yet be time, my husband! If
By giving way and by fubmiffion, this
Can be averted-my dear lord, give way!
Win down your proud heart to it! Tell that
heart,

It is your fovereign lord, your Emperor
Before whom you retreat. O let no longer
Low tricking malice blacken your good meaning
With abhor'd venomous gloffes. Stand you up
Shielded and helm'd and weapon'd with the truth,
And drive before you into uttermoft shame
These flanderous liars! Few firm friends have we.
You know it!The fwift growth of our good
fortune

It hath but fet us up, a mark for hatred.

What are we, if the fovereign's grace and favour Stand not before us!

SCENE

SCENE VIII.

Enter the Countess TERTSKY, leading in her hand the Princess THEKLA, richly adorned with brilliants.

COUNTESS, THEKLA, WALLENSTEIN,

DUCHESS.

COUNTESS.

How, fifter? What already upon bufinefs,
(obferving the countenance of the Duchess)
And business of no pleafing kind. I fee,
Ere he has gladden'd at his child. The first
Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!
This is thy daughter.

(Thekla approaches with a fhy and timid air, and bends herself as about to kifs his hand. he receives her in his arms, and remains Standing for fome time loft in the feeling of her prefence.)

WALLENSTEIN.

Yes; pure and lovely hath hope rifen 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 clofe of the campaign,
When you return'd home out of Pomerania,
Your daughter was already in the convent,
Wherein she has remain'd till now. ci y

WALLENSTEIN.

The while

way

We in the field here gave our cares and toils
To make her great, and fight her a free
To the loftieft earthly good, lo! mother Nature
Within the peaceful filent convent walls
Has done her part, and out of her free grace

Hath fhe bestowed on the beloved child
The godlike; and now leads her thus adorned
To meet her fplendid fortune, and my hope.
DUCHESS. (to Thekla)

Thou wouldeft not have recogniz'd thy father,
Would't thou, my child? She counted fcarce

At the first glance !-My father is not alter'd.
The form, that ftands before me, falfifies

No feature of the image that hath liv’d

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 profperous fortune, And re-illume my foon extinguifh'd being

In a proud line of princes.

I wrong'd my destiny. Here upon this head
So lovely in its maiden bloom will I

Let

Let fall the garland of a life of war,

Nor deem it loft, if only I can wreath it
Tranfmitted to a regal ornament,

Around these beauteous brows.

(He clafps her in his arms as Piccolomini enters.)

SCENE IX.

Enter MAX. PICCOLOMINI, and fometime after Count TERTSKY, the others remaining as before.

COUNTESS.

There comes the Palladin who protected us.

WALLENSTEIN.

Max! Welcome, ever welcome! Always wert thou The morning ftar of my best joys!

MAX.

My General

WALLENSTEIN.

'Till now it was the Emperor who rewarded thee, I but the inftrument. This day thou haft bound The father to thee, Max! the fortunate father, And this debt Friedland's felf must

MAX.

pay.

My prince!

You made no common hurry to transfer it.
I come with shame. Yea, not without a pang!
For scarce have I arriv'd here, scarce deliver'd
The mother and the daughter to your arms,