Poems (Hooper)/The Castle of Eger

by Lucy Hamilton Hooper

THE CASTLE OF EGER.

Lärmend, im Schloss zu Eger.

With noisy mirth, in Eger's halls,
 Sit drinking ruby wine
The three most loved and trusted friends
 Of princely Wallenstein.
Illo, Tertsky, and Kinsky there
 Above their wine-cups jest:
The camp has been their only home,
 And war their only rest.

The torches glow with festive light,
 But Tertsky darkly says,
"Is 't night within my breast alone,
 Or is 't before my gaze?
The dim lights gleam with pallid rays,
 As in a vault they shone,
And the dark walls, methinks, exhale
 Death-vapors from each stone."

The wine is glowing ruby red,
 But Kinsky mutters low,
"Nor cold nor hunger e'er had power
 To make me shudder so.
I would I stood where raged the fight
 Of Lutzen's fatal day!
May God protect us in this hour,
 Or else the devil may!"

Illo alone with laugh and jest
 Lifts high the flowing bowl,
For stab and thrust alike are vain
 To pierce his callous soul.
His mirth is madder than of yore,
 And wilder every jest;
His heart must wear a coat of mail
 Like that which guards his breast.

With drunken laughter now he shouts,
 (The very rafters shake):
"Far greater than a Kaiser, he
 Who can a Kaiser make!
A broken oath, a trust betrayed,
 Daunt coward souls, not mine,
So drink—drink to Bohemia's king,
 To princely Wallenstein!"

Lo! as he speaks, the clang of steel
 Re-echoes from the wall,
The armed dragoons of Butler stride
 Into the banquet-hall.
And Butler, through his visor, speaks
 In solemn tones and slow:
"Are you the Kaiser's loyal knight?
 Are you his traitor foe?"

Out spring the good swords from their sheaths,
 As of themselves they leap;
The lights upon the table fall
 Before their frenzied sweep.
Still in the dark the strife goes on,
 Nor in the dark they fight:
The flashing of their frenzied eyes
 Lends them a fearful light.

First Tertsky falls, then Kinsky yields,
 With oaths and hate, his life,
And Illo, seeking only death,
 Alone maintains the strife.
Helmet and flask alike are crushed
 Beneath his frenzied blows;
He, as a boar still grinds in death
 His tusks, confronts his foes.

Again the lighted torches glare
 With strange and dusky shine
Upon the floor, that glistens red
 With mingled blood and wine.
Over the fearful banquet-hall
 The red streams blended steal,
While at the table, silently,
 Death sitteth at his meal.

And Butler speaks in thunder tones:
 "Nay, leave them where they fell!
We've gathered first the leaves, and now
 We'll strike the root as well."
In yon far castle soon shall sound
 Wild shrieks and weeping sore!
Save, save thyself, Duke Wallenstein,
 Trust to the stars no more!
Fontane.