Poetical works, including the dramas of Wallenstein, Remorse, and Zapolya

Front matter

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fii*A;

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Act I.— Scene I

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

Illo with Butler and Isolaxi.

Illo.

Ye have come late — but ye are come ! The distance, Count Isolan, excuses your delay.

Isolani.

Add this too, that we come not empty handed. At Donauwert* it was reported to us, A Swedish caravan was on its way

* A town about 12 German miles N. E of Ulm.

6 THE PICC0L0MINT, OR THE

Transporting a rich cargo of provision,

Almost six hundred waggons. 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 all 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 Tertsky 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 Galas is wanting still, and Altringer.

Butler.

Expect not Galas.

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 Mansfeld 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 Princess* From Carnthen. 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!

* The Dukes in Germany being always reigning powers, their sons and daughters are entitled Princes and Princesses.

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, that 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 Galas 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 layed so newly on me

Illo.

I had forgotten A pleasant duty— Major General, I wish you joy !

Isolani.

What, you mean, of his regiment ?

1 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 banker 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 honour. Illo.

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!

These requisitions of the Emperor, —

1 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 !

first part of wallensteist. ii

Illo.

No more !

Yonder I see our worthy friend* approaching' With the Lieutenant-General, Piccolomini.

Butler (shaking his head significantly). I fear we shall not go hence as we came.

SCENE II. Enter Octavio Piccolomini and Questenberg

Octavio (still in the distance). Ay, ay ! more still ! Still more new visitors ! Acknowledge, friend ! that never was a camp, Which held at once so many heads of heroes.

[Approaching nearer.

Welcome, Count Isolani !

IsOLANI.

My noble brother, Even now am I arrived ; it had been else my duty —

Octavio.

And Colonel Butler — trust me, I rejoice

* Spoken with a sneer,

Thus to renew acquaintance with a man Whose worth and services I know and honour. See, see, my friend !

There might we place at once before our eyes The sum of war's whole trade and mystery —

[To Questenberg, presenting Butler and Isolani at the same time to him.

These two the total sum — Strength and Dispatch.

Questenberg (to Octavio).

And lo ! betwixt them both experienced Prudence ! Octavio (presenting Questenberg to Butler and Isolani).

The Chamberlain and War-commissioner Questenberg, The bearer of the Emperor's behests, The long-tried friend and patron of all soldiers, We honour in this noble visitor.

[ Universal silence.

Illo (moving towards Questenberg). 'Tis not the first time, noble Minister, You have shewn our camp this honour. Questenberg.

Once before I stood before these colours.

Illo.

Perchance too you remember where that was.

FIRST PART OF WALLENSTE1N. 13

It was at Znaim* in Moravia, where

You did present yourself upon the part

Of the Emperor, to supplicate our Duke

That he would straight assume the chief command.

QlJESTENBERG.

To supplicate ? Nay, noble General !

So far extended neither my commission

(At least to my own knowledge) nor my zeal.

Illo.

Well, well, then — tc compel him, if you chuse. I can remember me right well, Count Tilly Had suffered total rout upon the Lech. Bavaria lay all open to the enemy, Whom there was nothing to delay from pressing Onwards into the very heart of Austria. At that time you and Werdenberg appeared Before our General, storming him with prayers, And menacing the Emperor's displeasure, Unless he took compassion un this wretchedness.

Isolani (steps up to them).

Yes, yes, 'tis comprehensible enough 5 Wherefore with your commission of to-day You were not all too willing to remember Your former one-

* A town not far from the Mine-mountains, on the high road from Vienna to Prague.

QlTESTENBERG.

Why not, Count Isolan ?

No contradiction sure exists between them.

It was the urgent business of that time

To snatch Bavaria from her enemy's hand ;

And my commission of to-day instructs me

To free her from her good friends and protectors.

Illo.

A worthy office ! After with our blood We have wrested this Bohemia from the Saxon, To be swept out of it is all our thanks, The sole reward of all our hard- won victories.

Unless that Wretched land be doomed to suffer

Only a change of evils, it must be

Freed from the scourge alike of friend and foe.

Illo.

What ? 'Twas a favourable year ; the Boors Can answer fresh demands already.

QuESTENBERG.

Nay, If you discourse of herds and meadow-grounds —

Isolani.

The war maintains the war. Are the Boors ruined, The Emperor gains so many more new soldiers.

FIRST PART OF WALLEN9TEIN. 15

QtTESTENBERG.

And is the poorer by even so many subjects.

IsOLANI.

Poh ! We are all his subjects.

QuESTENBERG.

Yet with a difference, General ! The one fill

The others are well skilled to empty it.

The sword has made the Emperor poor; the

plough Must reinvigorate his resources. Isolani.

Sure!

Times are not yet so bad. Methinks I see

[Examining with his eye the dress and ornaments of Questenberg.

Good store of gold that still remains uncoined.

Questenberg.

Thank Heaven ! that means have been found out

to hide Some little from the fingers of the Croats.

Illo.

There ! The Stawata and the Martinitz, On whom the Emperor heaps his gifts and graces, To the heart-burning of all good Bohemians — Those minions of court favour, those court harpies,

Who fatten on the wrecks of citizens

Driven from their house and home — who reap no

harvests Save in the general calamity — Who now, with kingly pomp, insult and mock The desolation of their country — these, Let these, and such as these, support the war, The fatal war, which they alone enkindled I

Butler.

And those state-parasites, who have their feet So constantly beneath the Emperor's table, Who cannot let a benefice fall, but they Snap at it with dog's hunger — they, forsooth, Would pare the soldier's bread, and cross his reckoning!

IsOLANI.

My life long will it anger me to think, How when I went to court seven years ago, To see about new horses for our regiment, How from one antichamber to another They dragged me on, and left me by the hour To kick my heels among a crowd of simpering Feast-fattened slaves, as if I had come thither A mendicant suitor for the crumbs of favour That fall beneath their tables. And, at last, Whom should they send me but a Capuchin !

Straight I began to muster up my sins For absolution — but no such luck for me ! This was the man, this Capuchin, with whom I was to treat concerning the army horses : And I was forced at last to quit the field, The business unaccomplished. Afterwards The Duke procured me in three days, what I Could not obtain in thirty at Vienna.

QlJESTENBERG.

Yes, yes ! your travelling bills soon found their way

to us : Too well I know we have still accounts to settle.

Illo.

War is a violent trade ; one cannot always Finish one's work by soft means ; every trifle Must not be blackened into sacrilege. If we should wait till you, in solemn council, With due deliberation had selected The smallest out of four-and-twenty evils, I'faith we should wait long.— " Dash! and through with it!" — That's the better

watch-word.

Then after come what may come. 'Tis man's nature To make the best of a bad thing once past. A bitter and perplexed " what shall I do V Is worse to man then worst necessity.

QUESTENBERG.

Ay, doubtless, it is true : the Duke does spare us The troublesome task of chusing. Butler.

Yes, the Duke Cares with a father's feelings for his troops ; But how the Emperor feels for us, we see.

QuESTENBERG.

His cares and feelings all ranks share alike, N.or will he offer one up to another.

Isolani.

And therefore thrusts he us into the deserts As beasts of prey, that so he may preserve His dear sheep fattening in his fields at home.

Questenberg (with a sneer).

Count, this comparison you make, not I.

Butler.

Why, were we all the Court supposes us, 'Twere dangerous, sure, to give us liberty.

Questenberg.

You have taken liberty — it was not given you. And therefore it becomes an urgent duty To rein it in with curbs.

Octavio (interposing and addressing Questenberg). My noble friend, This is no more than a remembrancing

That you are now in camp, and among warriors. The soldier's boldness constitutes his freedom. Could he act daringly, unless he dared Talk even so ? One runs into the other. The boldness of this worthy officer,

[pointing to Butler.

Which now has but mistaken in its mark, Preserved, when nought but boldness could preserve it, To the Emperor his capital city, Prague, In a most formidable mutiny Of the whole garrison.

[Military music at a distance.

Hah ! here they come !

Illo.

The sentries are saluting them : this signal Announces the arrival of the Duchess.

Octavio (to Queslenberg).

Then my son Max. too has returned. 'Twas be Fetched and attended them from Carnthen hither.

Isolani (to Illo).

Shall we not go in company to greet them ?

Illo.

Well, let us go. — Ho! Colonel Butler, come.

[to Octavio.

You'll not forget, that yet ere noon we meet The noble Envoy at the General's palace.

[Exeunt all but Questenberg and Octavio.

20 THE PICCOLOMINI, OB THE

SCENE III. QlJESTENBERG and OcTAVIO

QuESTENberg (with signs of aversion and astonishment).

What have I not been forced to hear, Octavio ! What sentiments! what fierce, uncurbed defiance ! And were this spirit universal — Octavio.

Hm!

You are now acquainted with three fourths of the army.

QlJESTElSTBERG.

Where must we seek then for a second host

To have the custody of this ? That Illo

Thinks worse, I fear me, than he speaks. And then

This Butler too— he cannot even conceal

The passionate workings of his ill intentions.

Octavio.

Quickness of temper — irritated pride ; 'Twas nothing more. I cannot give up Butler. I know a spell that will soon dispossess The evil spirit in him.

Questenberg (walking up and down in evident disquiet).

Friend, friend !

O ! this is worse, far worse, than we had suffered

Ourselves to dream of at Vienna. There

We saw it only with a courtier's eyes,

Eyes dazzled by the splendour of the throne.

We had not seen the War-chief, the Commander,

The man all-powerful in his camp. Here, here,

'Tis quite another thing.

Here is no Emperor more — the Duke is Emperor.

Alas, my friend ! alas, my noble friend !

This walk which you have ta'en me through the camp

Strikes my hopes prostrate.

Octavio.

Now you see yourself Of what a perilous kind the office is, Which you deliver to me from the Court. The least suspicion of the General Costs me my freedom and my life, and would But hasten his most desperate enterprise.

QUESTENBERG.

Where was our reason sleeping when we trusted This madman with the sword, and placed such power In such a hand ? 1 tell you, he'll refuse, Flatly refuse, to obey the Imperial orders. Friend, he can do't, and what he can, he will. And then the impunity of his defiance — O ! what a proclamation of our weakness !

OCTAVIO.

D'ye think too, he has brought his wife and daughter Without a purpose hither ? Here in camp 1 And at the very point of time, in which We're arming for the war ? That he has taken These, the last pledges of his loyalty, Away from out the Emperor's domains — This is no doubtful token of the nearness Of some eruption !

QlJESTENBERG.

How shall we hold footing Beneath this tempest, which collects itself And threats us from all quarters ? The enemy Of the empire on our borders, now already The master of the Danube, and still farther, And farther still, extending every hour ! In our interior the alarum -bells

Of insurrection — peasantry in arms

All orders discontented — and the army, Just in the moment of our expectation Of aidance from it — lo ! this very army Seduced, run wild, lost to all discipline, Loosened, and rent asunder from the state And from their sovereign, the blind instrument Of the most daring of mankind, a weapon Of fearful power, which at his will he wields !

OCTAVIO.

Nay, nay, friend ! let us not despair too soon

Men's words are ever bolder than their deeds :

And many a resolute, who now appears

Made up to all extremes, will, on a sudden

Find in his breast a heart he wot not of,

Let but a single honest man speak out

The true name of his crime ! Remember too,

We stand not yet so wholly unprotected.

Counts Altringer and Galas have maintained

Their little army faithful to its duty,

And daily it becomes more numerous.

Nor can he take us by surprize : you know,

I hold him all encompassed by my listeners.

Whate'er he does, is mine, even while 'tis doing —

No step so small, but instantly I hear it ;

Yea, his own mouth discloses it.

QuESTENBERG.

'Tis quite Incomprehensible, that he detects not The foe so near !

Octavio, Beware, you do not think, That I by lying arts, and complaisant Hypocrisy, have skulked into his graces : Or with the sustenance of smooth professions

Nourish his all-confiding friendship ! No — Compelled alike by prudence, and that duty Which we all owe our country, and our sovereign, To hide my genuine feelings from him, yet Ne'er have I duped him with base counterfeits !

QtJESTENBERG.

It is the visible ordinance of heaven.

Octavio.

I know not what it is that so attracts And links him both to me and to my son. Comrades and friends we always were — long habit, Adventurous deeds performed in company. And all those many and various incidents Which store a soldier's memory with affections, Had bound us long and early to each other — Yet I can name the day, when all at once His heart rose on me, and his confidence Shot out in sudden growth. It was the morning Before the memorable fight at Liitzner. Urged by an ugly dream, I sought him out, To press him to accept another charger. At distance from the tents, beneath a tree, I found him in a sleep. When I had waked him, And had related all my bodings to him, Long time he stared upon me, like a man Astounded ; thereon fell upon my neck,

FIRST PART OF WALLENSTEIST. 25

And manifested to me an emotion That far outstripped the worth of that small service. Since then his confidence has followed me. With the same pace that mine has fled from him.

QuESTENBERG.

You lead your son into the secret ? Octavio.

No!

QuESTENBERG.

What ? and not warn him either what bad hands His lot has placed him in ?

Octavio.

I must perforce Leave him in wardship to his innocence. His young and open soul — dissimulation Is foreign to its habits ! Ignorance Alone can keep alive the cheerful air, The unembarrassed sense and light free spirit, That make the Duke secure.

Questenberg (anxiously).

My honoured friend ! most highly do I deem

Of Colonel Piccolomini — yet — if

Reflect a little

Octavio.

I must venture it.

Hush ! — There he comes !

Scene IV

Max. Piccolomini, Octavio Piccolomini,

questenberg.

Max.

Ha! there he is himself. Welcome, my father!

[He embraces his father. As he turns round, he observes Questenberg, and draws back with a cold and reserved air. You are engaged, I see. I'll not disturb you.

Octavio.

How Max ? Look closer at this visitor Attention, Max. an old friend merits — Reverence Belongs of right to the envoy of your sovereign.

Max. (drily).

Von Questenberg! — Welcome — if you bring with you Aught good to our head quarters.

Questenberg (seizing his hand).

Nay, draw not Your hand away, Count Piccolomini ! Not on mine own account alone I seized it, And nothing common will I say therewith.

[taking the hands of both.

Octavio — Max. Piccolomini !

O saviour names, and full of happy omen ! Ne'er will her prosperous genius turn from Austria,

While two such stars, with blessed influences Beaming protection, shine above her hosts.

Max.

Heh ! — Noble minister! You miss your part. You came not here to act a panegyric. You're sent, I know, to find fault and to scold us — I must not be beforehand with my comrades.

Octavio (to Max.).

He comes from court, where people are not quite So well contented with the duke, as here.

Max, What now have they contrived to find out in him ? That he alone determines for himself What he himself alone doth understand ? Well, therein he does right, and will persist in't. Heaven never meant him for that passive thing That can be struck and hammered out to suit Another's taste and fancy. He'll not dance To every tune of every minister. It goes against his nature — he can't do it. He is possessed by a commanding spirit, And his too is the station of command. And well for us it is so ! There exist Few fit to rule themselves, but few that use Their intellects intelligently. — Then Well for the whole, if there be found a man,

Who makes himself what nature destined him, The pause, the central point to thousand thousands — Stands fixed and stately, like a firm-built column, Where all may press with joy and confidence. Now such a man is Wallenstein ; and if Another better suits the court — no other But such a one as he can serve the army.

QuESTENBERG.

The army? Doubtless !

Octavio (to Quesienberg).

Hush ! Suppress it friend !

Unless some end were answered by the utterance. — Of him there you'll make nothing.

Max. (continuing).

In their distress They call a spirit up, and when he comes, Straight their flesh creeps and quivers, and they

dread him More than the ills for which they called him up. The uncommon, the sublime, must seem and be Like things of every day. — But in the field, Aye, there the Present Being makes itself felt. The personal must command, the actual eye Examine. If to be the chieftain asks All that is great in nature, let it be

Likewise his privilege to move and act

In all the correspondencies of greatness.

The oracle within him, that which lives,

He must invoke and question— not dead books,

Not ordinances, not mould rotted papers.

Octavio.

My son ! of those old narrow ordinances Let us not hold too lightly. They are weights Of priceless value, which oppressed mankind Tied to the volatile will of their oppressors. For always formidable was the league And partnership of free power with free will. The way of ancient ordinance, though it winds, Is yet no devious way. Straight forward goes The lightning's path, and straight the fearful path Of the cannon-ball. Direct it flies and rapid, Shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it

reaches.

My son ! the road, the human being travels, That, on which blessing comes and goes, doth

follow The river's course, the valley's playful windings, Curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines, Honouring the holy bounds of property ! And thus secure, though late, leads to its end.

30 THE P1CCOLOMIN1, OR THE

QlJESTENBERG.

O hear your father, noble youth ! hear him, Who is at once the hero and the man.

Octavio.

My son, the nursling of the camp spoke in thee! A war of fifteen years Hath been thy education and thy school. Peace hast thou never witnessed ! There exists An higher than the warrior's excellence. In war itself war is no ultimate purpose. The vast and sudden deeds of violence, Adventures wild, and wonders of the moment, These are not they, my son, that generate . The Calm, the Blissful, and the enduring Mighty ! Lo there ! the soldier, rapid architect ! Builds his light town of canvas, and at once The whole scene moves and bustles momently, With arms, and neighing steeds, and mirth and

quarrel The motley market fills ; the roads, the streams Are crowded with new freights, trade stirs and

hurries !

But on some morrow morn, all suddenly, The tents drop down, the horde renews its march. Dreary, and solitary as a church-yard

The meadow and down-trodden seed-plot lie, And the year's harvest is gone utterly.

Max.

O let the Emperor make peace, my father ! Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel For the first violet* of the leafless spring, Plucked in those quiet fields where I have journeyed !

Octavio.

What ails thee? What so moves thee all at once?

Max.

Peace have I ne'er beheld ? I have beheld it. From thence am I come hither : O ! that sight, It glimmers still before me, like some landscape Left in the distance, — some delicious landscape ! My road conducted me through countries where The war has not yet reached. Life, life, my father — My venerable father, Life has charms Which we have ne'er experienced. We have been But voyaging along its barren coasts, Like some poor ever-roaming horde of pirates, That, crowded in the rank and narrow ship,

* In the original,

House on the wild sea with wild usages,

Nor know aught of the main land, but the bays

Where safeliest they may venture a thieves' landing.

Whate'er in the inland dales the land conceals

Of fair and exquisite, O ! nothing, nothing,

Do we behold of that in our rude voyage.

Octavio (attentive, with an appearance of uneasiness).

And so your journey has revealed this to you ?

Max. 'Twas the first leisure of my life. O tell me, What is the meed and purpose of the toil, The painful toil, which robbed me of my youth, Left me an heart unsoul'd and solitary, A spirit uninformed, unornamented. For the camp's stir and crowd and ceaseless larum, The neighing war-horse, the air-shattering trumpet, The unvaried, still returning hour of duty, Word of command, and exercise of arms — There's nothing here, there's nothing in all this To satisfy the heart, the gasping heart ! Mere bustling nothingness, where the soul is not — This cannot be the sole felicity, These cannot be man's best and only pleasures !

Octavio.

Much hast thou learnt, my son, in this short journey.

Max. ! day thrice lovely ! when at length the soldier Returns home into life ; when he becomes A fellow-man among his fellow-men. The colours are unfurled, the cavalcade Marshals, and now the buzz is hushed, and hark ! Now the soft peace-march beats, home, brothers,

home !

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 filled with men and women, With peaceful men and women, that send onwards Kisses and welcomings upon the air, Which they make breezy with affectionate gestures. From all the towers rings out the merry peal, The joyous vespers of a bloody day. O happy man, O fortunate ! for whom The well-known door, the faithful arms are open, The faithful tender arms with mute embracing. Questenberg {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.

34 THE P1CCOLOMIN1, OR THE

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 pressed 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. And here make I this vow, here pledge myself; My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein, And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere ye Shall revel and dance jubilee o'er his ruin. [Exit.

SCENE V. QUESTENBERG, OcTAVIO PlCCQLOMINI

QUESTENBERG.

Alas, alas ! and stands it so ?

[then in pressing and impatient tones. What, friend ! and do we let him go away In this delusion — let him go away ? Not call him back immediately, not open His eyes upon the spot?

Octavio {recovering himself out of a deep study). He has now opened mine, And I see more than pleases me.

QUESTENBERG.

What is it ?

Octavio.

Curse on this journey ! *

QUESTENBERG.

But why so ? What is it ?

Octavio.

Come, come along, friend ! I must follow up The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes Are opened now, and I must use them. Come !

[draws Questenberg on vnth him.

QUESTENBERG.

What now ? Where go you then ?

36 THE PICCOLOMINT, OH THE

OCTAVIO.

To her herself.

QUESTENBERG.

To

Octavio (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.