PREFACE

The two dramas, – PICCOLOMINI, or the first part of WALLENSTEIN, and the DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN, are introduced in the original manuscript by a prelude in one act, entitled WALLENSTEIN'S CAMP. This is written in rhyme, and in nine-syllable verse, in the same lilting metre (if that expression may be permitted), with the second Eclogue of Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar.

This prelude possesses a sort of broad humor, and is not deficient in character: but to have translated it into prose, or into any other metre than that of the original, would have given a false idea both of its style and purport; to have translated it into the same metre would have been incompatible with a faithful adherence to the sense of the German from the comparative poverty of our language in rhymes; and it would have been unadvisable, from the incongruity of those lax verses with the present taste of the English public. Schiller's intention seems to have been merely to have prepared his reader for the tragedies by a lively picture of laxity of discipline and the mutinous dispositions of Wallenstein's soldiery. It is not necessary as a preliminary explanation. For these reasons it has been thought expedient not to translate it.

The admirers of Schiller, who have abstracted their idea of that author from the Robbers, and the Cabal and Love, plays in which the main interest is produced by the excitement of curiosity, and in which the curiosity is excited by terrible and extraordinary incident, will not have perused without some portion of disappointment the dramas, which it has been my employment to translate. They should, however, reflect that these are historical dramas taken from a popular German history; that we must, therefore, judge of them in some measure with the feelings of Germans; or, by analogy, with the interest excited in us by similar dramas in our own language. Few, I trust, would be rash or ignorant enough to compare Schiller with Shakspeare; yet, merely as illustration, I would say that we should proceed to the perusal of Wallenstein, not from Lear or Othello, but from Richard II., or the three parts of Henry VI. We scarcely expect rapidity in an historical drama; and many prolix speeches are pardoned from characters whose names and actions have formed the most amusing tales of our early life. On the other hand, there exist in these plays more individual beauties, more passages whose excellence will bear reflection than in the former productions of Schiller. The description of the Astrological Tower, and the reflections of the Young Lover, which follow it, form in the original a fine poem; and my translation must have been wretched indeed if it can have wholly overclouded the beauties of the scene in the first act of the first play between Questenberg, Max, and Octavio Piccolomini. If we except the scene of the setting sun in the Robbers, I know of no part in Schiller's plays which equals the first scene of the fifth act of the concluding plays. [In this edition, scene iii., act v.] It would be unbecoming in me to be more diffuse on this subject. A translator stands connected with the original author by a certain law of subordination which makes it more decorous to point out excellences than defects; indeed, he is not likely to be a fair judge of either. The pleasure or disgust from his own labor will mingle with the feelings that arise from an afterview of the original. Even in the first perusal of a work in any foreign language which we understand, we are apt to attribute to it more excellence than it really possesses from our own pleasurable sense of difficulty overcome without effort. Translation of poetry into poetry is difficult, because the translator must give a brilliancy to his language without that warmth of original conception from which such brilliancy would follow of its own accord. But the translator of a living author is incumbered with additional inconveniences. If he render his original faithfully as to the sense of each passage, he must necessarily destroy a considerable portion of the spirit; if he endeavor to give a work executed according to laws of compensation he subjects himself to imputations of vanity or misrepresentation. I have thought it my duty to remain bound by the sense of my original with as few exceptions as the nature of the languages rendered possible. S. T. C.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

WALLENSTEIN, Duke of Friedland, Generalissimo of the Imperial Forces in the Thirty Years' War.

OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, Lieutenant-General.

MAX. PICCOLOMINI, his Son, Colonel of a Regiment of Cuirassiers.

COUNT TERZKY, the Commander of several Regiments, and Brother-in-law of Wallenstein.

ILLO, Field-Marshal, Wallenstein's Confidant.

ISOLANI, General of the Croats.

BUTLER, an Irishman, Commander of a Regiment of Dragoons.

TIEFENBACH, |

DON MARADAS, | Generals under Wallenstein.

GOETZ, |

KOLATTO, |

NEUMANN, Captain of Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp to Terzky.

VON QUESTENBERG, the War Commissioner, Imperial Envoy.

BAPTISTA SENI, an Astrologer.

DUCHESS OF FRIEDLAND, Wife of Wallenstein.

THEKLA, her Daughter, Princess of Friedland.

THE COUNTESS TERZRY, Sister of the Duchess.

A CORNET.

COLONELS and GENERALS (several).

PAGES and ATTENDANTS belonging to Wallenstein.

ATTENDANTS and HOBOISTS belonging to Terzky.

MASTER OF THE CELLAR to Count Terzky.

VALET DE CHAMBRE of Count Piccolomini.

ACT I

SCENE I

An old Gothic Chamber in the Council-House at Pilsen, decorated with Colors and other War Insignia.

ILLO, with BUTLER and ISOLANI.

ILLO

 
Ye have come too late-but ye are come! The distance,
   Count Isolani, excuses your delay.
 

ISOLANI

 
   Add this too, that we come not empty-handed.
   At Donauwerth¹ it was reported to us,
   A Swedish caravan was on its way,
   Transporting a rich cargo of provision,
   Almost six hundreds wagons. This my Croats
   Plunged down upon and seized, this weighty prize! —
   We bring it hither —
 

ILLO

 
              Just in time to banquet
   The illustrious company assembled here.
 

BUTLER

 
   'Tis all alive! a stirring scene here!
 

ISOLANI

 
                      Ay!
   The very churches are full of soldiers.
 

[Casts his eye round.

 
   And in the council-house, too, I observe,
   You're settled quite at home! Well, well! we soldiers
   Must shift and suit us in what way we can.
 

ILLO

 
   We have the colonels here of thirty regiments.
   You'll find Count Terzky here, and Tiefenbach,
   Kolatto, Goetz, Maradas, Hinnersam,
   The Piccolomini, both son and father —
   You'll meet with many an unexpected greeting
   From many an old friend and acquaintance. Only
   Gallas is wanting still, and Altringer.
 

BUTLER

 
   Expect not Gallas.
 

ILLO (hesitating)

 
             How so? Do you know —
 

ISOLANI (interrupting him)

 
   Max. Piccolomini here? O bring me to him.
   I see him yet ('tis now ten years ago,
   We were engaged with Mansfeldt hard by Dessau),
   I see the youth, in my mind's eye I see him,
   Leap his black war-horse from the bridge adown,
   And t'ward his father, then in extreme peril,
   Beat up against the strong tide of the Elbe.
   The down was scarce upon his chin! I hear
   He has made good the promise of his youth,
   And the full hero now is finished in him.
 

ILLO

 
   You'll see him yet ere evening. He conducts
 

The Duchess Friedland hither, and the princess² From Caernthen³. We expect them here at noon.

BUTLER

 
   Both wife and daughter does the duke call hither?
   He crowds in visitants from all sides.
 

ISOLANI

 
                      Hm!
   So much the better! I had framed my mind
   To hear of naught but warlike circumstance,
   Of marches and attacks, and batteries;
   And lo! the duke provides, and something too
   Of gentler sort and lovely, should be present
   To feast our eyes.
 

ILLO (who has been standing in the attitude of meditation, to BUTLER,

whom he leads a little on one side)

 
             And how came you to know
   That the Count Gallas joins us not?
 

BUTLER

 
                     Because
   He importuned me to remain behind.
 

ILLO (with warmth)

 
   And you? You hold out firmly!
 

[Grasping his hand with affection.

 
                   Noble Butler!
 

BUTLER

 
   After the obligation which the duke
   Had laid so newly on me —
 

ILLO

 
                 I had forgotten
   A pleasant duty – major-general,
   I wish you joy!
 

ISOLANI

 
           What, you mean, of this regiment?
   I hear, too, that to make the gift still sweeter,
   The duke has given him the very same
   In which he first saw service, and since then
   Worked himself step by step, through each preferment,
   From the ranks upwards. And verily, it gives
   A precedent of hope, a spur of action
   To the whole corps, if once in their remembrance
   An old deserving soldier makes his way.
 

BUTLER

 
   I am perplexed and doubtful whether or no
   I dare accept this your congratulation.
   The emperor has not yet confirmed the appointment.
 

ISOLANI

 
   Seize it, friend, seize it! The hand which in that post
   Placed you is strong enough to keep you there,
   Spite of the emperor and his ministers!
 

ILLO

 
   Ay, if we would but so consider it! —
   If we would all of us consider it so!
   The emperor gives us nothing; from the duke
   Comes all – whate'er we hope, whate'er we have.
 

ISOLANI (to ILLO)

 
   My noble brother! did I tell you how
   The duke will satisfy my creditors?
   Will be himself my bankers for the future,
   Make me once more a creditable man!
   And this is now the third time, think of that!
   This kingly-minded man has rescued me
   From absolute ruin and restored my honor.
 

ILLO

 
   Oh that his power but kept pace with his wishes!
   Why, friend! he'd give the whole world to his soldiers.
   But at Vienna, brother! – here's the grievance, —
   What politic schemes do they not lay to shorten
   His arm, and where they can to clip his pinions.
   Then these new dainty requisitions! these
   Which this same Questenberg brings hither!
 

BUTLER

 
                         Ay!
   Those requisitions of the emperor —
   I too have heard about them; but I hope
   The duke will not draw back a single inch!
 

ILLO

 
   Not from his right most surely, unless first
   From office!
 

BUTLER (shocked and confused)

 
          Know you aught then? You alarm me.
 

ISOLANI (at the same time with BUTLER, and in a hurrying voice)

 
   We should be ruined, every one of us!
 

ILLO

 
   Yonder I see our worthy friend [spoken with a sneer] approaching
   With the Lieutenant-General Piccolomini.
 

BUTLER (shaking his head significantly)

 
   I fear we shall not go hence as we came.