RUNNER. The same!-a health is to go round in him.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR (shaking his head while he fetches and rinses the
cups). This will be something for the tale-bearers-this goes to Vienna.
NEUMANN. 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 the 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?
MASTER OF THE CELLAR. The woman you see there on horseback is the Free
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.
NEUMANN. But what is the cup there on the banner.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR. The cup signifies the freedom of the Bohemian
Church, as it was in our forefathers' times. Our forefathers in the wars
of the Hussites 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.
NEUMANN. And what says that chart that hangs in the air there, over it
all?
MASTER OF THE CELLAR. 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 scissors.
NEUMANN. Why, my good Master of the Cellar! you are deep read in the
chronicles of your country.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR. So were my forefathers, and for that reason were
they 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!
NEUMANN. 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. 'Tis even so! there stands
Count Thur who commands it.
[RUNNER takes the service-cup and goes off with it.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR. Oh, 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 heartaches of the country. Since that
day it is now sixteen years, and there has never once been peace on the
earth.
[Health drunk aloud at the second table.
The Prince of Weimar! Hurrah!
[At the third and fourth tables.
Long live Prince William! Long live Duke Bernard! Hurrah!
[Music strikes up.
FIRST SERVANT. Hear 'em! Hear 'em! What an uproar!
SECOND SERVANT (comes in running). Did you hear? They have drunk the
Prince of Weimar's health.
THIRD SERVANT. The Swedish chief commander!
FIRST SERVANT (speaking at the same time). The Lutheran!
SECOND SERVANT. Just before, when Count Deodati gave out the emperor's
health, they were all as mum as a nibbling mouse.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR. Po, po! When the wine goes in strange things come
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; 'tis a
flask of Frontignac! 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.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR (to NEUMANN). Who, pray, may that swarthy man be,
he with the cross, that is chatting so confidently 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 CELLAR (impatiently). Spaniard! Spaniard! I tell you,
friend, nothing good comes of those Spaniards. All these outlandish
fellows are little better than rogues.
NEUMANN. Fy, fy! you should not say so, friend. There are among them
our very best generals, and those on whom the duke at this moment relies
the most.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR.
[Taking the flask out of RUNNER'S pocket.
My son, it will be broken to pieces in your pocket.
[TERZKY hurries in, fetches away the paper, and calls to a servant
for pen and ink, and goes to the back of the stage.
MASTER OF THE CELLAR (to the SERVANTS). The lieutenant-general stands
up. Be on the watch. Now! They break up. Off, and move back the
forms.
[They rise at all the tables, the SERVANTS hurry off the front of
the stage to the tables; part of the guests come forward.
SCENE VI.
OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI enters, in conversation with MARADAS, and both
place themselves quite on the edge of the stage on one side of the
proscenium. On the side directly opposite, MAX. PICCOLOMINI, by
himself, lost in thought, and taking no part in anything that is
going forward. The middle space between both, but rather more
distant from the edge of the stage, is filled up by BUTLER, ISOLANI,
GOETZ, TIEFENBACH, and KOLATTO.
ISOLANI (while the company is coming forward). Good-night, good-night,
Kolatto! Good-night, lieutenant-general! I should rather say
good-morning.
GOETZ (to TIEFENBACH). Noble brother! (making the usual compliment after
meals).
TIEFENBACH. Ay! 'twas a royal feast indeed.
GOETZ. Yes, my lady countess understands these matters. Her
mother-in-law, heaven rest her soul, taught her! Ah! that was a
housewife for you!
TIEFENBACH. There was not her like in all Bohemia for setting out a
table.
OCTAVIO (aside to MARADAS). Do me the favor to talk to me-talk of what
you will-or of nothing. Only preserve the appearance at least of
talking. I would not wish to stand by myself, and yet I conjecture that
there will be goings on here worthy of our atten
tive observation. (He
continues to fix his eye on the whole following scene.)
ISOLANI (on the point of going). Lights! lights!
TERZKY (advances with the paper to ISOLANI). Noble brother; two minutes
longer! Here is something to subscribe.
ISOLANI. Subscribe as much as you like-but you must excuse me from
reading it.
TERZKY. There is no need. It is the oath which you have already read.
Only a few marks of your pen!
[ISOLANI hands over the paper to OCTAVIO respectfully.
TERZKY. Nay, nay, first come, first served. There is no precedence
here.
[OCTAVIO runs over the paper with apparent indifference.
TERZKY watches him at some distance.
GOETZ (to TERZKY). Noble count! with your permission-good-night.
TERKZY. Where's the hurry? Come, one other composing draught. (To the
SERVANTS). Ho!
GOETZ. Excuse me-aint able.
TERZKY. A thimble-full.
GOETZ. Excuse me.
TIEFENBACH (sits down). Pardon me, nobles! This standing does not agree
with me.
TERZKY. Consult your own convenience, general.
TIEFENBACH. Clear at head, sound in stomach-only my legs won't carry me
any longer.
ISOLANI (pointing at his corpulence). Poor legs! how should they! Such
an unmerciful load!
[OCTAVIO subscribes his name, and reaches over the paper to TERZKY,
who gives it to ISOLANI; and he goes to the table to sign his name.
TIEFENBACH. 'Twas that war in Pomerania that first brought it on. Out
in all weathers-ice and snow-no help for it. I shall never get the
better of it all the days of my life.
GOETZ. Why, in simple verity, your Swedes make no nice inquiries about
the season.
TERZKY (observing ISOLANI, whose hand trembles excessively so that he can
scarce direct his pen). Have you had that ugly complaint long, noble
brother? Despatch it.
ISOLANI. The sins of youth! I have already tried the chalybeate waters.
Well-I must bear it.
[TERZKY gives the paper to MARADAS; he steps to the table
to subscribe.
OCTAVIO (advancing to BUTLER). You are not over-fond of the orgies of
Bacchus, colonel! I have observed it. You would, I think, find yourself
more to your liking in the uproar of a battle than of a feast.
BUTLER. I must confess 'tis not in my way.
OCTAVIO (stepping nearer to him friendlily). Nor in mine neither, I can
assure you; and I am not a little glad, my much-honored Colonel Butler,
that we agree so well in our opinions. A half-dozen good friends at
most, at a small round table, a glass of genuine Tokay, open hearts, and
a rational conversation-that's my taste.
BUTLER. And mine, too, when it can be had.
[The paper comes to TIEFENBACH, who glances over it at the same time
with GOETZ and KOLATTO. MARADAS in the meantime returns to OCTAVIO.
All this takes places, the conversation with BUTLER proceeding
uninterrupted.
OCTAVIO (introducing MADARAS to BUTLER.) Don Balthasar Maradas! likewise
a man of our stamp, and long ago your admirer.
[BUTLER bows.
OCTAVIO (continuing). You are a stranger here-'twas but yesterday you
arrived-you are ignorant of the ways and means here. 'Tis a wretched
place. I know at your age one loves to be snug and quiet. What if you
move your lodgings? Come, be my visitor. (BUTLER makes a low bow.)
Nay, without compliment! For a friend like you I have still a corner
remaining.
BUTLER (coldly). Your obliged humble servant, my lord
lieutenant-general.
[The paper comes to BUTLER, who goes to the table to subscribe it.
The front of the stage is vacant, so that both the PICCOLOMINIS,
each on the side where he had been from the commencement of the
scene, remain alone.
OCTAVIO (after having some time watched his son in silence, advances
somewhat nearer to him). You were long absent from us, friend!
MAX. I-urgent business detained me.
OCTAVIO. And, I observe, you are still absent!
MAX. You know this crowd and bustle always makes me silent.
OCTAVIO (advancing still nearer). May I be permitted to ask what the
business was that detained you? Terzky knows it without asking.
MAX. What does Terzky know?
OCTAVIO. He was the only one who did not miss you.
ISOLANI (who has been attending to them for some distance steps up).
Well done, father! Rout out his baggage! Beat up his quarters! there is
something there that should not be.
TERZKY (with the paper). Is there none wanting? Have the whole
subscribed?
OCTAVIO. All.
TERZKY (calling aloud). Ho! Who subscribes?
BUTLER (to TERZKY). Count the names. There ought to be just thirty.
TERZKY. Here is a cross.
TIEFENBACH. That's my mark!
ISOLANI. He cannot write; but his cross is a good cross, and is honored
by Jews as well as Christians.
OCTAVIO (presses on to MAX.). Come, general! let us go. It is late.
TERZKY. One Piccolomini only has signed.
ISOLANI (pointing to MAX.). Look! that is your man, that statue there,
who has had neither eye, ear, nor tongue for us the whole evening.
[MAX. receives the paper from TERZKY, which he looks upon vacantly.
SCENE VII.
To these enter ILLO from the inner room. He has in his hand a
golden service-cup, and is extremely distempered with drinking;
GOETZ and BUTLER follow him, endeavoring to keep him back.
ILLO.
What do you want! Let me go.
GOETZ and BUTLER.
Drink no more, Illo! For heaven's sake, drink no more.
ILLO (goes up to OCTAVIO, and shakes him cordially by the hand, and then
drinks). Octavio! I bring this to you! Let all grudge be drowned in
this friendly bowl! I know well enough you never loved me-devil take
me! and I never loved you! I am always even with people in that way !
Let what's past be past-that is, you understand-forgotten! I esteem
you infinitely. (Embracing him repeatedly.) You have not a dearer
friend on earth than I, but that you know. The fellow that cries rogue
to you calls me villain, and I'll strangle him! my dear friend!
TERZKY (whispering to him). Art in thy senses? For heaven's sake, Illo,
think where you are!
ILLO (aloud). What do you mean? There are none but friends here, are
there? (Looks round the whole circle with a jolly and triumphant air.)
Not a sneaker amongst us, thank heaven.
TERZKY (to BUTLER, eagerly). Take him off with you, force him off, I
entreat you, Butler!
BUTLER (to ILLO). Field-marshal! a word with you. (Leads to the
side-board.)
ILLO (cordially). A thousand for one. Fill; fill it once more up to the
brim. To this gallant man's health!
ISOLANI (to MAX., who all the while has been staring on the paper with
fixed but vacant eyes). Slow and sure, my noble brother! Hast parsed it
all yet? Some words yet to go through? Ha?