Wallenstein/The Death of Wallenstein/A5S10
SCENE X.
To these enter the Countess Tertsky, pale and disordered. Her utterance is slow and feeble, and unempassioned.
OCTAVIO. (meeting her.)O Countess Tertsky! These are the resultsOf luckless unblest deeds.
COUNTESS.They are the fruitsOf your contrivances. The Duke is dead,My husband too is dead, the Duchess strugglesIn the pangs of death, my niece has disappear'd.This house of splendour, and of princely glory,Doth now stand desolated: the affrighted servants
Rush forth thro' all its doors. I am the lastTherein; I shut it up, and here deliverThe keys.
OCTAVIO. (with a deep anguish.)O Countess! my house too is desolate.
COUNTESS.Who next is to be murder'd? Who is nextTo be maltreated? Lo! The Duke is dead.The Emperor's vengeance may be pacified!Spare the old servants; let not their fidelityBe imputed to the faithful as a crime—The evil destiny surpriz'd my brotherToo suddenly: he could not think on them.
OCTAVIO.Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment!The Emp'ror is appeas'd; the heavy faultHath heavily been expiated—nothingDescended from the father to the daughter,Except his glory and his services.The Empress honours your adversity,Takes part in your afflictions, opens to youHer motherly arms! Therefore no farther fears!Yield yourself up in hope and confidenceTo the Imperial Grace!
COUNTESS.(with her eye rais'd to heaven.)To the grace and mercy of a greater MasterDo I yield up myself.—Where shall the bodyOf the Duke have its place of final rest? In the Chartreuse, which he himself did foundAt Gitschin, rests the Countess Wallenstein;And by her side, to whom he was indebtedFor his first fortunes, gratefully he wish'dHe might sometime repose in death! O let himBe buried there. And likewise, for my husband'sRemains, I ask the like grace. The EmperorIs now proprietor of all our Castles.This sure may well be granted us—one sepulchreBeside the sepulchres of our forefathers!
OCTAVIO.Countess, you tremble, you turn pale!
COUNTESS.(reassembles all her powers, and speaks with energy and dignity.)You thinkMore worthily of me, than to believeI would survive the downfal of my house.We did not hold ourselves too mean, to graspAfter a monarch's crown—the crown did fateDeny, but not the feeling and the spiritThat to the crown belong! We deem aCourageous death more worthy of our free stationThan a dishonoured life.—I have taken poison.
OCTAVIO.Help! Help! Support her!
COUNTESS.Nay, it is too late.[Exit Countess.In a few moments is my fate accomplish'd.
GORDON.O House of death and horrors!
(An officer enters, and brings a letter with the great Seal.)
GORDON. (steps forward and meets him.)What is this?It is the Imperial Seal.(He reads the Address, and delivers the letter to Octavio with a look of reproach, and with an emphasis on the word.)To the Prince Piccolomini.
OCTAVIO. (with his whole frame expressive of sudden anguish, raises his eyes to heaven.)
The Curtain drops.
FINIS.
Printed by G. Woodfall, No. 22, Paternoster-Row, London.