Out of his fearful and enormous being.
Will but prepare the joys of life for me—
cot-to-s-
Thou seest it with a love!orn maiden's eves.
Cast thine eye round, bethink the who thou art.
Into no house of joyance hast thou stepp'd,
For no espousals dost thou find the walls
Deck'd out, no guests the nuptial garland wearing.
Here is no splendour but of arms. Or thinkst thou
That all these thousands are here congregated
To lead up the long dances at thy wedding:
Thou see st thy father's forehead full of thought,
Thy mother's eye in tears: upon the balance
Lies the great destiny of all our house.
Leave now the puny wish, the girish feeling,
O thrust it far behind thee! Give thou proof,
Thou'rt the daughter of the Mighty—his
Who where he moves creates the wonderful.
Not to herself the woman must belong,
Annex'd and bound to alien destinies.
But she performs the best part, she the wisest,
Who can transmute the alien into self,
Meet and disarm necessity by choice;
And what must be, take freely to her heart,
And bear and foster it with mother's love.
To Exi.A.
Such ever was my lesson in the convent.
I had no loves, no wishes, knew myself
Only as his—his daughter—his, the Mighty!
His fame, the echo of whose blast drove to me
From the far distance, waken'd in my soul
No other thought than this—I am appointed
To offer up myself in passiveness to him.
cou Ntess.
That is thy fate. Mould thou thy wishes to it.
I and thy mother gave thee the example.
THERL.A.
My fate hath shown me him, to whom behoves it
That I should offer up myself.
Him will 1 follow.

In gladness

countess.
Not thy fate hath shown him

Thy heart, say rather—'t was thy heart, my child!

Turku, A.
Fate hath no voice but the heart's impulses.
I am all hist his present—his alone,
ls this new life, which lives in me? He hath
A right to his own creature. What was I
Ere his fair love infused a soul into me?

cou" Not ess.
Thou wouldst oppose thy father then, should he
Have otherwise determined with thy person 1

[Turku.A remains silent. The Countess continues.

Thou mean'st to force him to thy liking –Child,
Ilis name is Friedland.

tri-ku. A.

My name too is Friedland.

He shall have found a genuine daughter in me.

co to Nort'ss.
What? he has vanquish'd all impediment,
And in the wilful mood of his own daughter
Shall a new struggle rise for him? Child child :
As yet thou hast seen thy father's smiles alone;
The eye of his rage thou hast not seen. Dear child,
I will not frighten thee. To that extreme,
I trust, it ne'er shall come. His will is yet

Unknown to me: "t is possible his aims May have the same direction as thy wish. But this can never, never be his will That thou, the daughter of his haughty fortunes, | Should'st e'er demean thee as a love-sick maiden; And like some poor cost-nothing, fling thyself Toward the man, who, if that high prize ever | Be destined to await him, yet, with sacrifices The highest love can bring, must pay for it. [Exit Couvress. raskla (who during the last speech had been standing evidently lost in her reflections). I thank thee for the hint. It turns My sad presentiment to certainty. And it is so!—Not one friend have we here, Not one true heart! we've nothing but ourselves! 0 she said rightly—no auspicious signs Ream on this covenant of our affections. This is no theatre, where hope abides: The dull thick noise of war alone stirs here; And love himself, as he were arm'd in steel, Steps forth, and girds him for the strife of death. [Music from the banquet-room is heard. There's a dark spirit walking in our house, And swiftly will the Destiny close on us. It drove me hither from my calm asylum, It mocks my soul with charning witchery, It lures me forward in a seraph's shape; I see it near, I see it nearer floating, It draws it pulls me with a god-like power— And lo! the abyss—and thither an I moving— I have no power within me not to move! [the music from the banquet-room becomes louder. O when a house is doom'd in fire to perish, Many and dark heaven drives his clouds together, Yea, shoots his lightnings down from sunny heights, Flames burst from out the subterraneous chastns, . "And fiends and angels mingling in their fury, Sling fire-brands at the burning edifice. [Exit Thekla.

SCEN E VIII.

A large saloon lighted up with festal Splendour; in the midst of it, and in the Centre of the stage, a Table richly set out, at which eight Generals are

sitting, among whom are Ocravio Piccolomixi, Tsarsky, and Maraos. Right and left of this, but further back, two other Tables, at each of which six Persons are placed. The Middle Door, u’hich is standing open, gives to the Prospect a fourth Table, with the same Number of Persons. More forward stand, the sideboard. The whole front of the stage is kept open for the Pages and servant, in u’aiting. The Fund of Music belonging to Trorsky's Regiment march across the stude, and draw up round the Tables. hefore they are quite off from the Front of the stage, Max. Piccolow in appears, Tentsky advances touards him with a

A friend! I give you here my hand! I'm Your's
With all I have. Not only men, but money
Will the Duke want.—Go, tell him, sirs :
I've earn’d and laid up somewhat in his service,
I lend it him; and is he my survivor,
It has been already long ago bequeath'd him.
He is my heir. For me, I stand alone
Here in the world; nought know I of the feeling
That binds the husband to a wife and children.
My name dies with me, my existence ends.
I LL0.
T is not your money that he needs—a heart
Like yours weighs tons of gold down, weighs down
millions!
but LEa.
I came a simple soldier's boy from Ireland
To Prague–and with a master, whom I buried.
From lowest stable duty 1 climb'd up,
Such was the fate of war, to this high rank,
The plaything of a whimsical good fortune.
And Wallenstein too is a child of luck;
I love a fortune that is like my own.

it. Loo.

All powerful souls have kindred with each other.

Buttre-
This is an awful moment! to the hrsve,
To the determined, an auspicious moment.
The Prince of weimar arms, upon the Maine
To found a mighty dukedom. He of Halberstadt.
That Mansfeld, wanted but a longer life
To have mark'd out with his good sword a lordship
That should reward his courage. Who of these
Equals our Friedland? there is nothing, nothing
So high, but he may set the ladder to it!

teatsky. That's spoken like a man!

butler-
Do you secure the Spaniard and Italian–
I'll be your warrant for the Scotchman Lesly.
Come, to the company!

Tratsky.
Where is the master of the cellar? Ho!
Let the best wines come up. Ho! cheerly, boy!
Luck comes to-day, so give her hearly welone.

[Exeunt, each to his table.

SCENE XII.

The Mastea of the Cellan advancing with NEUMANN, servants passing backwards and forwards.

MASTER of the CELLAh. The best wine! 0: if my old mistress, his lady mother, could but see these wild goings on, she would turn herself round in her grave. Yes, yes, sir officer "t is all down the hill with this noble house! no end, no moderation And this marriage with the Duke's sister, a splendid connection, a very splendid connection! but I will tell you, sir officer, it looks no good. in Eusta N. N. heaven forbid! Why, at this very moment the whole prospect is in bud and blossom MastER of the CFLL.A.R. You think so?—Well, well! much may be said on that head. Fiast servant (comes). Burgundy for the fourth table. MAs ren of the cell.A.R. Now, sir lieutenant, if this an’t the seventieth flask– first serv ANT. Why, the reason is, that German lord, Tiefenbach sits at that table. Master or rus cellan (continuing his discourse to Nsum ANN). They are soaring too high. They would rival kings and electors in their pomp and splendour; and wherever the Duke leaps, not a minute does my gracious master, the count, loiter on the brink——(to the Serwants.)—What do you stand there listening for I will let you know you have let's presently. Off! see to the tables, see to the slasks' Look there! Count Palfi has an empty glass before him! nuxxen (comes). The great service-cup is wanted, sir; that rich gold cup with the Bohemian arms on it. The Count says you know which it is. masten of the cet. LA a. Ay! that was made for Frederick's coronation by the artist William—there was not such another prize in the whole booty at Prague. nunneR. The same!—a health is to go round in him. Master of the cellan (shaking his head while he fetches and rinses the cups). This will be something for the tale-bearers—this goes to Vienna. neu MAN N. Permit me to look at it.—Well, this is a cup indeed! How heavy! as well it may be, being all gold.—And what neat things are embossed on it! how natural and elegant they look"—There, on that first quarter, let me see. That proud Amazon there on horseback, she that is taking a leap over the crosier and mitres, and carries on a wand a hat together with a banner, on which there's a goblet represented. Can you tell me what all this signifies? mas reb of the cell. A R. The woman whom you see there on horseback, is the Frce Election of the Bohemian Crown. That is signified by the round hat, and by that fiery steed on which she is riding. The hat is the pride of man; for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors is no free man. neu Mann. But what is the cup there on the banner? at Astela of the cell. Att. The cup signifies the freedom of the Bohemian Church, as it was in our forefathers' times. Our forefathers in the wars of the Ilussites forced from the Pope this noble privilege: for the Pope, you know, will not grant the cup to any layman. Your true Moravian values nothing beyond the cup; it is his costly jewel, and has cost the Bohemians their precious blood in many and many a battle. Neu MAN N. And what says that chart that hangs in the air there, over it all? Master of the cell. Aft. That signifies the Bohemian letter-royal, which we forced from the Emperor Rudolph—a precious, never to be enough valued parchment, that secures to the new Church the old privileges of free ringing and open psalmody. But since he of Steiermark has ruled over us, that is at an end; and after the battle at Prague, in which Count Palatine Frederick lost crown and empire, our faith hangs upon the pulpit and the altar—and our brethren look at their homes over their shoulders; but the letter-royal the Emperor himself cut to pieces with his scissars. Neu M.A.N. N. why, my good Master of the Cellar! you are deep read in the chronicles of your country? Master of tile c El, LA e. So were my forefathers, and for that reason were the minstrels, and served under Procopius and Ziska. Peace be with their ashes! Well, well! they fought for a good cause though—There! carry it up! Neum ANN. Stay! let me but look at this second quarter. Look there! That is, when at Prague Castle the Imperial Counsellors, Martinitz and Stawata were hurled down head over heels. T is even so! there stands Count Thur who connands it. [Runner takes the service-cup and goes off with it.

MASTER of the CELLAB. 0 let me never more hear of that day. It was the three-and-twentieth of May, in the year of our Lord one thousand, six hundred, and eighteen. It seems to me as it were but yesterday—from that unlucky day it all began, all the heart-aches of the country. Since that day it is now sixteen years, and there has never once been peace on the earth. [Health drank aloud at the second table. The Prince of Weimar! Hurra! [At the third and fourth table. Long live Prince William! Long live Duke Bernard Hurra!

[Music strikes up. first seawa NT. Hear 'em! Hear 'em! What an uproar! second senvant (comes in running). Did you hear? They have drank the Prince of Wei mar's health. thifi D serva Nt. The Swedish Chief Commander! first seavant (speaking at the same time). The Lutheran' SECONd SERVANT. Just before, when Count Deodate gave out the Emperor's health, they were all as mum as a nibbling Inouse. MAster of the cellAR. Po, po! When the wine goes in, strange things come out. A good servant hears, and hears not!—You should be nothing but eyes and feet, except when you are called to. SEcond servant. [To the Runner, to whom he gives secretly a flask of wine, keeping his eye on the Master of the Cellar, standing between him and the Runner. Quick, Thomas! before the Master of the Cellar runs this way—’t is a slask of Frontignac 1–Snapped it up at the third table—Canst go off with it? Runner (hides it in his pocket). All right! [Exit the Second Servant. third servant (aside to the First). Be on the hark, Jack! that we may have right plenty to tell to father Quivoga—He will give us right plenty of absolution in return for it. First SERVANT. For that very purpose I am always having something to do behind Illo's chair.—He is the man for speeches to make you stare with ! MasTea of the cellah (to NEUMANN). Who, pray, may that swarthy man he, he with the cross, that is chatting so confidentially with Esterhats? NEumann. Ay! he too is one of those to whom they confide too much. He calls himself Maradas, a Spaniard is he. Master of the cellan (impatiently). Spaniard Spaniard!—I tell you, friend, nothing good comes of those Spaniards. All these out-landish fellows are little better than rogues.

1 There is a humour in the original which cannot be given in the translation. - Die Welschen alle,” etc. which word in classical German means the Italians alone; but in its first sense, and at present in the pulqar use of the word, signifies foreigners in general. our word wall-nuts, I suppose, means outlandish nuts-Wallar nuces, in German - Welsche Nüsse." T.