The caps and helmets are all garlanded With green boughs, the last plundering of the fields. The city gates fly open of themselves, They need no longer the petard to tear them. The ramparts are all fill'd with men and women, Which they make breezy with affectionate gestures. O happy man, O fortunate! for whom The well-known door, the faithful arms are open, The faithful tender arms with mute embracing. Quest. (apparently much affected.) O! that you should speak Of such a distant, distant time, and not Of the to-morrow, not of this to-day. Max. (turning round to him quick and vehement.) Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna! I will deal openly with you, Questenberg. Just now, as first I saw you standing here, (I'll own it to you freely) indignation Crowded and press'd my inmost soul together. "Tis ye that hinder peace, ye !—and the warrior, It is the warrior that must force it from you. Ye fret the general's life out, blacken him, Hold him up as a rebel, and heaven knows What else still worse, because he spares the Saxons, And tries to awaken confidence in the enemy; Which yet's the only way to peace: for if War intermit not during war, how then And whence can peace come?-Your own plagues fall on you! Even as I love what's virtuous, hate I you. [Exit. SCENE V.-Questenberg, Octavio Piccolomini. Quest. Alas, alas! and stands it so ? [then in pressing and impatient tones. What, friend! and do we let him go away Not call him back immediately, not open His eyes upon the spot? Octa. (recovering himself out of a deep study.) He Octa. Come, come along, friend! I must follow up The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes Are open'd now, and I must use them. Come! [Draws Questenberg on with him. Quest. What now? Where go you then? Octa. Quest. To Octa. (interrupting him, and correcting himself.) To the duke. Come, let us go-'Tis done, 'tis done, I see the net that is thrown over him. Oh! he returns not to me as he went. Quest. Nay, but explain yourself. And that I should not Octa. Foresee it, not prevent this journey! Wherefore Did I keep it from him?—You were in the right. I should have warn'd him! Now it is too late. Quest. But what's too late? Bethink yourself, my friend, That you are talking absolute riddles to me. Which he appointed you for audience. Come! [He leads Questenberg off. SCENE VI.-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 heaven. 1st. 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 there in a minute. 2nd. Serv. Why were we not told before that the audience would be held here? Nothing preparedno orders-no instructions 3rd. Serv. Ay, and why was the balcony-chamber countermanded, that with the great worked carpet? -there one can look about one. 1st. Serv. Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. He says it is an unlucky chamber. 2nd. Serv. 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. 1st. Serv. (to the second.) Say nothing to him, The duke himself must let him have his own Nat. 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. 2d. Serv. 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. 2d. Serv. 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. 2d. Serv. The foolish old coxcomb! 1st. Serv. Ey! let him alone though. I like to hear him; there is more in his words than can be seen at first sight. 3rd. Serv. Off, they come. 2nd. Serv. 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 VII.-Wallenstein, Duchess. Wal. You went then through Vienna, were pre That I had sent for wife and daughter hither To the camp in winter time? I did even that Duch. Which you commission'd me to do. I told them, You had determined on our daughter's marriage, |