Yea, his own mouth discloses it.
'Tis quite
Incomprehensible, that he detects not
The foe so near!
Beware, you do not think,
That I, by lying arts, and complaisant
Hypocrisy, have sulked into his graces,
Or with the substance 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!
It is the visible ordinance of heaven.
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 stores 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 into sudden growth. It was the morning
Before the memorable fight at Luetzen.
Urged by an ugly dream, I sought him out,
To press him to accept another charger.
At a 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,
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.
You lead your son into the secret?
No!
What! and not warn him either, what bad hands
His lot has placed him in?
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 makes the duke secure.
My honored friend! most highly do I deem
Of Colonel Piccolomini – yet – if —
Reflect a little —
I must venture it.
Hush! There he comes!
SCENE IV
MAX. PICCOLOMINI, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, QUESTENBERG.
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.
How, Max.? Look closer at this visitor.
Attention, Max., an old friend merits – reverence
Belongs of right to the envoy of your sovereign.
Von Questenberg! – welcome – if you bring with you
Aught good to our headquarters.
Nay, draw not
Your hand away, Count Piccolimini!
Not on my own account alone I seized it,
And nothing common will I say therewith.
[Taking the hands of both.
Octavio – Max. Piccolomini!
O savior 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.
Heh! Noble minister! You miss your part.
You come 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.
He comes from court, where people are not quite
So well contented with the duke as here.
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,