No More Learning

For they don't much like him at court I learn?
And then it's all up with the whole concern!
For who, to our pay, will be left to aid us?
And see that they keep the promise they made us?
Who has the energy--who the mind--
The flashing thought--and the fearless hand--
Together to bring, and thus fastly bind
The fragments that form our close-knit band.
For example, dragoon--just answer us now,
From which of the countries of earth art thou?

DRAGOON.
From distant Erin came I here.

SERGEANT (to the two Cuirassiers).
You're a Walloon, my friend, that's clear,
And you, an Italian, as all may hear.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Who I may be, faith! I never could say;
In my infant years they stole me away.

SERGEANT.
And you, from what far land may you be?

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
I come from Buchau--on the Feder Sea.

SERGEANT.
Neighbor, and you?

SECOND ARQUEBUSIER.
I am a Swiss.

SERGEANT (to the second Yager).
And Yager, let's hear where your country is?

SECOND YAGER.
Up above Wismar my fathers dwell.

SERGEANT (pointing to the Trumpeter).
And he's from Eger--and I as well:
And now, my comrades, I ask you whether,
Would any one think, when looking at us,
That we, from the North and South, had thus
Been hitherward drifted and blown together?
Do we not seem as hewn from one mass?
Stand we not close against the foe
As though we were glued or moulded so?
Like mill-work don't we move, d'ye think!
'Mong ourselves in the nick, at a word or wink.
Who has thus cast us here all as one,
Now to be severed again by none?
Who? why, no other than Wallenstein!

FIRST YAGER.
In my life it ne'er was a thought of mine
Whether we suited each other or not,
I let myself go with the rest of the lot.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
I quite agree in the sergeant's opinion--
They'd fain have an end of our camp dominion,
And trample the soldier down, that they
May govern alone in their own good way.
'Tis a conspiration--a plot, I say!

SUTLER-WOMAN.
A conspiration--God help the day!
Then my customers won't have cash to pay.

SERGEANT.
Why, faith, we shall all be bankrupts made;
The captains and generals, most of them, paid
The costs of the regiments with private cash,
And, wishing, 'bove all, to cut a dash,
Went a little beyond their means--but thought,
No doubt, that they thus had a bargain bought.
Now they'll be cheated, sirs, one and all,
Should our chief, our head, the general fall.

SUTLER-WOMAN.
Oh, Heaven! this curse I never can brook
Why, half of the army stand in my book.
Two hundred dollars I've trusted madly
That Count Isolani who pays so badly.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Well, comrades, let's fix on what's to be done--
Of the ways to save us, I see but one;
If we hold together we need not fear;
So let us stand out as one man here;
And then they may order and send as they will,
Fast planted we'll stick in Bohemia still.
We'll never give in--no, nor march an inch,
We stand on our honor, and must not flinch.

SECOND YAGER.
We're not to be driven the country about,
Let 'em come here, and they'll find it out.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
Good sirs, 'twere well to bethink ye still,
That such is the emperor's sovereign will.

TRUMPETER.
Oh, as to the emperor, we needn't be nice.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
Let me not hear you say so twice.

TRUMPETER.
Why, 'tis even so--as I just have said.

FIRST YAGER.
True, man--I've always heard 'em say,
'Tis Friedland, alone, you've here to obey.

SERGEANT.
By our bargain with him it should be so,
Absolute power is his, you must know,
We've war, or peace, but as he may please,
Or gold or goods he has power to seize,
And hanging or pardon his will decrees.
Captains and colonels he makes--and he,
In short, by the imperial seal is free,
To hold all the marks of sovereignty.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
The duke is high and of mighty will,
But yet must remain, for good or for ill,
Like us all, but the emperor's servant still.

SERGEANT.
Not like us all--I there disagree--
Friedland is quite independent and free,
The Bavarian is no more a prince than he
For, was I not by myself to see,
When on duty at Brandeis, how the emperor said,
He wished him to cover his princely head.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
That was because of the Mecklenburgh land,
Which he held in pawn from the emperor's hand.

FIRST YAGER (to the Sergeant).
In the emperor's presence, man! say you so?
That, beyond doubt, was a wonderful go!

SERGEANT (feels in his pocket).
If you question my word in what I have told,
I can give you something to grasp and hold.
[Showing a coin.
Whose image and stamp d'ye here behold?

SUTLER-WOMAN.
Oh! that is a Wallenstein's, sure!

SERGEANT-MAJOR.
Well, there, you have it--what doubt can rest
Is he not prince, just as good as the best?
Coins he not money like Ferdinand?
Hath he not his own subjects and land?
Is he not called your highness, I pray?
And why should he not have his soldiers in?

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
That no one has ever meant to gainsay;
But we're still at the emperor's beck and call,
For his majesty 'tis who pays us all.

TRUMPETER.
In your teeth I deny it--and will again--
His majesty 'tis who pays us not,
For this forty weeks, say, what have we got
But a promise to pay, believed in vain?

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
What then! 'tis kept in safe hands, I suppose.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Peace, good sirs, will you come to blows?
Have you a quarrel and squabble to know
If the emperor be our master or no?
'Tis because of our rank, as his soldiers brave,
That we scorn the lot of the herded slave;
And will not be driven from place to place,
As priest or puppies our path may trace.
And, tell me, is't not the sovereign's gain,
If the soldiers their dignity will maintain?
Who but his soldiers give him the state
Of a mighty, wide-ruling potentate?
Make and preserve for him, far and near,
The voice which Christendom quakes to hear?
Well enough they may his yoke-chain bear,
Who feast on his favors, and daily share,
In golden chambers, his sumptuous fare.
We--we of his splendors have no part,
Naught but hard wearying toil and care,
And the pride that lives in a soldier's heart.

SECOND YAGER.
All great tyrants and kings have shown
Their wit, as I take it, in what they've done;
They've trampled all others with stern command,
But the soldier they've led with a gentle hand.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
The soldier his worth must understand;
Whoe'er doesn't nobly drive the trade,
'Twere best from the business far he'd stayed.
If I cheerily set my life on a throw,
Something still better than life I'll know;
Or I'll stand to be slain for the paltry pelf,
As the Croat still does--and scorn myself.

BOTH PAGERS.
Yes--honor is dearer than life itself.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
The sword is no plough, nor delving tool,
He, who would till with it, is but a fool.
For us, neither grass nor grain doth grow,
Houseless the soldier is doomed to go,
A changeful wanderer over the earth,
Ne'er knowing the warmth of a home-lit hearth.
The city glances--he halts--not there--
Nor in village meadows, so green and fair;
The vintage and harvest wreath are twined
He sees, but must leave them far behind.
Then, tell me, what hath the soldier left,
If he's once of his self-esteem bereft?
Something he must have his own to call,
Or on slaughter and burnings at once he'll fall.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
God knows, 'tis a wretched life to live!

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Yet one, which I, for no other would give,
Look ye--far round in the world I've been,
And all of its different service seen.
The Venetian Republic--the Kings of Spain
And Naples I've served, and served in vain.
Fortune still frowned--and merchant and knight,
Craftsmen and Jesuit, have met my sight;
Yet, of all their jackets, not one have I known
To please me like this steel coat of my own.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
Well--that now is what I can scarcely say.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
In the world, a man who would make his way,
Must plague and bestir himself night and day.
To honor and place if he choose the road,
He must bend his back to the golden load.
And if home-delights should his fancy please,
With children and grandchildren round his knees,
Let him follow an honest trade in peace.
I've no taste for this kind of life--not I!
Free will I live, and as freely die.
No man's spoiler nor heir will I be--
But, throned on my nag, I will smile to see
The coil of the crowd that is under me.

FIRST YAGER.
Bravo! --that's as I've always done.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
In truth, sirs, it may be far better fun
To trample thus over your neighbor's crown.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Comrade, the times are bad of late--
The sword and the scales live separate.
But do not then blame that I've preferred,
Of the two, to lean, as I have, to the sword.
For mercy in war I will yield to none,
Though I never will stoop to be drummed upon.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER.
Who but the soldier the blame should bear
That the laboring poor so hardly fare?
The war with its plagues, which all have blasted
Now sixteen years in the land hath lasted.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Why, brother, the blessed God above
Can't have from us all an equal love.
One prays for the sun, at which t'other will fret
One is for dry weather-t'other for wet.
What you, now, regard as with misery rife,
Is to me the unclouded sun of life.
If 'tis at the cost of the burgher and boor,
I really am sorry that they must endure;
But how can I help it? Here, you must know,
'Tis just like a cavalry charge 'gainst the foe:
The steeds loud snorting, and on they go!
Whoever may lie in the mid-career--
Be it my brother or son so dear,
Should his dying groan my heart divide,
Yet over his body I needs must ride,
Nor pitying stop to drag him aside.

FIRST YAGER.
True--who ever asks how another may bide?

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Thus, my lads, 'tis my counsel, while
On the soldier Dame Fortune deigns to smile,
That we with both hands her bounty clasp,
For it may not be much longer left to our grasp.
Peace will be coming some over-night,
And then there's an end of our martial might.
The soldier unhorsed, and fresh mounted to boor,
Ere you can think it 'twill be as before.
As yet we're together firm bound in the land,
The hilt is yet fast in the soldier's hand.
But let 'em divide us, and soon we shall find,
Short commons is all that remains behind.

FIRST YAGER.
No, no, by the Lord! That won't do for me.
Come, come, lads, let's all now, as one, agree.

SECOND YAGER.
Yes, let us resolve on what 'tis to be.

FIRST ARQUEBUSIER (To the Sutler-woman, drawing out his leather purse).
Hostess, tell us how high you've scored.

SUTLER-WOMAN.
Oh, 'tis unworthy a single word.

[They settle.

TRUMPETER.
You do well, sirs, to take a further walk,
Your company only disturbs our talk.

[Exeunt Arquebusiers.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Plague take the fellows--they're brave, I know.

FIRST YAGER.
They haven't a soul 'bove a soapboiler's, though.

SECOND YAGER.
We're now alone, so teach us who can
How best we may meet and mar their plan.

TRUMPETER.
How? Why, let's tell them we will not go!

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Despising all discipline! No, my lads, no,
Rather his corps let each of us seek,
And quietly then with his comrades speak,
That every soldier may clearly know,
It were not for his good so far to go;
For my Walloons to answer I'm free,
Every man of 'em thinks and acts with me.

SERGEANT.
The Terzky regiments, both horse and foot,
Will thus resolve, and will keep them to't.

SECOND CUIRASSIER (joining the first).
The Walloons and the Lombards one intent.

FIRST YAGER.
Freedom is Yagers' own element.

SECOND YAGER.
Freedom must ever with might entwine--
I live and will die by Wallenstein.

FIRST SHARPSHOOTER.
The Lorrainers go on with the strongest tide,
Where spirits are light and courage tried.

DRAGOON.
An Irishman follows his fortune's star.

SECOND SHARPSHOOTER.
The Tyrolese for their sovereign war.

FIRST CUIRASSIER.
Then, comrades, let each of our corps agree
A pro memoria to sign--that we,
In spite of all force or fraud, will be
To the fortunes of Friedland firmly bound,
For in him is the soldier's father found.
This we will humbly present, when done,
To Piccolomini--I mean the son--
Who understands these kind of affairs,
And the Friedlander's highest favor shares;
Besides, with the emperor's self, they say
He holds a capital card to play.

SECOND YAGER.
Well, then, in this, let us all agree,
That the colonel shall our spokesman be!

ALL (going).
Good! the colonel shall our spokesman be.

SERGEANT.
Hold, sirs--just toss off a glass with me
To the health of Piccolomini.

SUTLER-WOMAN (brings a flask).
This shall not go to the list of scores,
I gladly give it--success be yours!

CUIRASSIER.
The soldier shall sway!

BOTH YAGERS.
The peasant shall pay

DRAGOONS and SHARPSHOOTERS.
The army shall flourishing stand!

TRUMPETER and SERGEANT.
And the Friedlander keep the command!

SECOND CUIRASSIER (sings).

Arouse ye, my comrades, to horse! to horse!
To the field and to freedom we guide!
For there a man feels the pride of his force
And there is the heart of him tried.
No help to him there by another is shown,
He stands for himself and himself alone.

[The soldiers from the background have come forward during the singing
of this verse and form the chorus.

CHORUS.

No help to him by another is shown,
He stands for himself and himself alone.

DRAGOON.

Now freedom hath fled from the world, we find
But lords and their bondsmen vile
And nothing holds sway in the breast of mankind
Save falsehood and cowardly guile.
Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow,
The soldier, alone, is the freeman now.

CHORUS.

Who looks in death's face with a fearless brow,
The soldier, alone, is the freeman now.

FIRST YAGER.

With the troubles of life he ne'er bothers his pate,
And feels neither fear nor sorrow;
But boldly rides onward to meet with his fate--
He may meet it to-day, or to-morrow!
And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say,
Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day!

CHORUS.

And, if to-morrow 'twill come, then, I say,
Drain we the cup of life's joy to-day!

[The glasses are here refilled, and all drink.

SERGEANT.

'Tis from heaven his jovial lot has birth;
Nor needs he to strive or toil.
The peasant may grope in the bowels of earth,
And for treasure may greedily moil
He digs and he delves through life for the pelf,
And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself.

CHORUS.

He digs and he delves through life for the pelf,
And digs till he grubs out a grave for himself.

FIRST YAGER.

The rider and lightning steed--a pair
Of terrible guests, I ween!
From the bridal-hall, as the torches glare,
Unbidden they join the scene;
Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove;
By storm he carries the prize of love!

CHORUS.

Nor gold, nor wooing, his passion prove;
By storm he carries the prize of love!

SECOND CUIRASSIER.

Why mourns the wench with so sorrowful face?
Away, girl, the soldier must go!
No spot on the earth is his resting-place;
And your true love he never can know.
Still onward driven by fate's rude wind,
He nowhere may leave his peace behind.

CHORUS.

Still onward driven by fate's rude wind,
He nowhere may leave his peace behind.

FIRST YAGER.
He takes the two next to him by the hand--the others do the same--and
form a large semi-circle.

Then rouse ye, my comrades--to horse! to horse!
In battle the breast doth swell!
Youth boils--the life-cup foams in its force--
Up! ere time can dew dispel!
And deep be the stake, as the prize is high--
Who life would win, he must dare to die!

CHORUS.

And deep be the stake, as the prize is high--
Who life would win, he must dare to die!

[The curtain falls before the chorus has finished.






THE PICCOLOMINI,



Translated by S. T. Coleridge.



"Upon the whole there can be no doubt that this trilogy forms, in its
original tongue, one of the most splendid specimens of tragic art the
world has witnessed; and none at all, that the execution of the version
from which we have quoted so largely, places Mr. Coleridge in the very
first rank of poetical translators. He is, perhaps, the solitary example
of a man of very great original genius submitting to all the labors, and
reaping all the honors of this species of literary exertion. "--Blackwood,
1823.




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.



THE PICCOLOMINI.



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 Donauwerth [1] 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 princess [2]
From Caernthen [3]. 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!