Hast thou ne'er noticed it? Nor yet my sister?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart?

G.o.d's blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou need'st Never take shame upon thee for thy choice.

COUNTESS.

This journey, if 'twere not thy aim, ascribe it To thine own self. Thou shouldst have chosen another To have attended her.

WALLENSTEIN.

And does he know it?

COUNTESS.

Yes, and he hopes to win her!

WALLENSTEIN. Hopes to win her!

Is the boy mad?

COUNTESS.

Well--hear it from themselves.

WALLENST.

He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland's daughter!

Ay?--The thought pleases me.

The young man has no groveling spirit.

COUNTESS.

Since Such and such constant favor you have shown him--

WALLENST.

He chooses finally to be my heir.

And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honor him.

But must he therefore be my daughter's husband?

Is it daughters only? Is it only children That we must show our favor by?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

His n.o.ble disposition and his manners--

WALLENST.

Win him my heart, but not my daughter.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Then His rank, his ancestors--

WALLENSTETN.

Ancestors! What?

He is a subject, and my son-in-law I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high Lest we should fall too low.

WALLENSTEIN.

What! have I paid A price so heavy to ascend this eminence, And jut out high above the common herd, Only to close the mighty part I play In Life's great drama, with a common kinsman?

Have I for this--

[_Stops suddenly, repressing himself_.]

She is the only thing That will remain behind of me on earth; And I will see a crown around her head, Or die in the attempt to place it there.

I hazard all--all! and for this alone, To lift her into greatness--Yea, in this moment, in the which we are speaking--

[_He recollects himself_.]

And I must now, like a soft-hearted father, Couple together in good peasant-fashion The pair, that chance to suit each other's liking-- And I must do it now, even now, when I Am stretching out the wreath that is to twine My full accomplish'd work--no! she is the jewel, Which I have treasured long, my last, my n.o.blest, And 'tis my purpose not to let her from me For less than a king's sceptre.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

O my husband!

You're ever building, building to the clouds, Still building higher, and still higher building, And ne'er reflect that the poor narrow basis Cannot sustain the giddy tottering column.

WALLENSTEIN (_to the_ COUNTESS).

Have you announced the place of residence Which I have destined for her?

COUNTESS.

No! not yet.

'Twere better you yourself disclosed it to her.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

How? Do we not return to Carinthia then?

WALLENSTEIN.

No.