WALLENSTEIN

Would! that found Awakes my drowsy soul, pray good my Lords, What do you behold degenerate in my looks, Showing me unworthy still of that great title? Yet I must Put off that glorious title, Like a garment, Old and unfit for wearing: Oh my Lords, Our honours individual with our souls Grows to that essence, as toth' hand or cheek The native whiteness; and to have that torn, Lug'd off by violent torture, is a sufferance Beyond the strength of patience: is't not, Lords? Noble Scot, Use your discretion freely. The Drum and Fife, Trumpet and Canon, when their loud voices sing, Iös to victory, could never beget More music in my ravished sense: best friend, I am so bankrupt grown in my extent Of gratitude, that trust me I could weep, To see my self so far outdone in friendship: I am engaged in honour to go on, That this insulting Emperor by his fallen, To gain fit means to gratify your loves. Thou aery name of loyalty, hence to heaven, And find Like smoke a burial in the clouds, Thus I expire thy essence; henceforth I'll acknowledge No other Emperor but these worthies hearts. The honour you have done me mighty Princes, Electors of the sacred Roman Empire, By this your personal visit does engage So much our gratitude, that what our selves, And the most able forces of our friends, Can in requital act, shall be performed, Mutual discourses often mingle souls And as the Arteries convey the blood, Throughout the body, they from mind to mind Convey affection: to this end we did Entreat this meeting, that our conference might, Join in and individual league our hearts. Thus in brief then, How I have served this Emperor, these wounds That beautify my body (cause the marks Of my just loyalty) given by your swords, Can bear me righteous witness; but good service To a malicious and ingrateful Prince, Are rather causes of suspect, then love, And when men's actions do transcend reward, They then descend to punishment (my cause Is rightly stated thus) for when my self, (I well may speak it without partial boast) Had Like his Eagle in my powerful gripe, Snatched up his Crown that lay despised on earth, And heaved it up to Heaven, born all the weight, Which yours, the Danish and the Swedish force, Could load these shoulders with; nay shook it off Lightly, as winds in Autumn do from trees, Their withered Summer garments: then, even then, When my just Hope's were pregnant with conceit Of Wreathes and triumphs (as a brave reward) My Soldiers by his Mandates were forbid, To obey me as their General, and my self Commanded straightway to resign my charge, All my great power which I had bought with blood, Unto Matthias Gallas my Field-Marshall. Nay more, As I had been a Traitor then in fact, He did endeavour my surprise, to bring me A prisoner to Vienna : think then Lords, When both my priceless honour and my life Were at one stake proposed, if I'de not cause To play my game with cunning skill, when these My brave Commanders from their martial eyes, Did for my wrongs shed tears of blood, called on me, As on their friend, their father, not to leave My Sons my Soldiers: if I their request Performed, I saved my honour and my life, But if the Emperor's, I gave up them both To plain perspicuous ruin; yet in not Accomplishing my Master's harsh commands, The name of treason brands me (but pass that,) I of two evils chosen to take the least, Rather to draw upon me Caesars hate, Then to forsake my charge and soldiers loves: And now being free in my own soul as thought Unsought to (Lords) and unconstrained, I offer Assist against this Emperor (this thing Made only up of name and voice) whom we Will break as showers do bubbles, which themselves Of nothing had created. It's and honour, We are bound in duty to accept, my Lords, In noble souls no thought should once admit Sullen delay, our progress should be swift, As is the passage of unlimited fire In populous Cities; or as winds, whose force Does at their birth send open the stubborn womb Of the dull earth their mother; great designs Should by great spirits only be pursued, And our last business is our speedy conference With Chancellor Oxenstern, and the French Ambassador. Actions that carry and unusual weight, Ought still to fly at and unusual height. Are they agreed yet, Newma, I do admire, The found base carriage of our giddy youth In love affairs, and grieve to see my sons, (Who should inherit from me my great spirit, As well as fortune) so degenerate from My masculine courage; when ith' blooming pride Of my green youth I flourished, my desires Aimed always rather in the tented field To spend my hours, then on a downy Couch, To see the face of a stern enemy besmeared with blood, Pleased me far better then a Ladies looks. Perhaps I might, For the obtaining of my ends, descend From my great spirit so much, as to decline To idle Courtship, the birds and beasts will do it To sat their appetites, the fiery Steed, (That in the fervor of a fight, oft times Neighs courage to his rider) when provoked With eager heat, will lick and bite his female Into the same desire: The Sparrows bill, And with a chirping rhetoric, seem to court Enjoyment of their wishes, which fulfilled Dulls their heads, they couch beneath their wings, And in a slumber, forfeit all remembrance Of their passed pleasures: Yet insatiate man, In his desire more hight then Steeds or Sparrows, Will to obtain it, quite devest his soul Of all that's masculine in him, and transform His very being into woman. Beauteous Lady, The contract betwixt me and your father, touching The marriage betwixt my son and your fair self, I hope By your consent is ratified: my boy Looks sprightly, as if he were new returned From a triumphant victory. But pray divide my soul, my life and Fortune's, Are at your disposition: noble Lords, That this base Emperor seeks to take my life By treachery, is and apparent sigre, He fears that I should live, and half victorious Ever blow be strucken, are they whom their foes Dread, ever they do behold them: let's go on then, Armed with our aides, backed with our causes justice, against this insulting Emperor, and resolve To pull the tyrant from his Throne, destroy His very name, his memory, his ashes, With as much easy freedom, as rough winds Demolish crazy buildings. Colonel Gordon, Some five days hence we shall arrive at Egers, There to make preparation for the Nuptials, Betwixt our some and fair Emilia. Come Lords, since we amongst our selves are true, Conquest is ours, which we'll with speed pursue. Exeunt. It's a lie, A worthless lie, false as thy flattering Hope's are, You are in love, most gallantly in love With Isabella, one who is composed Of paint and plasters: thou degenerate monster, Traitor to fame, and parricide to honour, Abject in thy condition, as thy thoughts are; Tear this vile strumpet from thy soul, do't quickly, Renounce her with all binding ties can urge thee To keep thy faith, or I will quite put off The name of Father, take as little notice Thou art my offspring, as the surly North, Does of the snow, which when it has engendered, Its wild breath scatters through the earth forgotten. Dare you boy, Speak this to me. Hell and furies, Durst any mortal fool, but my own issue, Venture to brave my fury thus; resolve Villain in full to satisfy my purpose, Do it without regret, renounce this strumpet Even from thy soul, abandon her remembrance. Or by my own unwearied valour, better, And with more safety thou mayest hug a wave, When its white lips kiss heaven: young sir your honour Is not your own, for it you're but my factor, And must give me account, a strict account Of the errors you run in: to the Dust Of my great Ancestors, stand I accountant For all my family, and their blessed ashes Would break their Marble lodgings, and come forth To quarrel with me, should I permit this bar To stain their glorious Heraldry. Well, thy prate Has overcome me, I am pitiful, Beyond my nature pitiful to thee, Thou shalt enjoy thy wishes. Stay and mark me, 'Tshall be with this condition, that as soon As thou art wed, and hast enjoyed thy wishes, Ere the next Sun rise on you, You resolve without remorse, To kill your Isabella. Pish I am deaf, inexorable as Seas Toth' prayers of Mariners, when their sinking Keel Is drunk with billows. Ent. Dutch. Isabel and Page. Death have I lost my command, is he or I To be obeyed? hang her, if he resist, Kill the unnatural Traitor. Take hence their bodies, 'twas a hopeful boy, And one I loved well, till his wild love Made him forget his duty; and it's better He died with fame, his sword in's hand, then that He'd lived with foul dishonour: would he were Alive again, I do begin to feel strange horrors here, and that Big guest, my soul, is shaken as with a nipping frost, hence idle Grief, I must be furnished with more spritly passion, thou art too Heavy, fit for the society of none but pensive women. All must die, Why should not he then, 'twas his destiny. Exeunt. To be diseased in mind, diseased passed cure Of Physic or sage counsel, is a madness, The active Soldiers, all whose ends are glory, And that by virtue (cowards term a sin) Ambition, should not be acquainted with. Although my cares do hang upon my soul, Like mines of Led, the greatness of my spirit, Shall shake the sullen weight off; natural rest, (Is Like a wholesome both to limbs oppressed With gouts and aches) to a troubled mind, A most excelling medicine, and I feel A strong propension in my brain, to court Sleep for its mild Physician: within there; boy. Ent a Page. Sirrah be sure that none disturb my rest, On no occasion, on your life I charge you. Yes, if the notes be heavy, apt to invite The weary soul to slumbers. Song. Would, where's my sword, Thou art a Coward Ghost, and not my sons, To take me in my sleep unarmed, my Poniard Will still be faithful to me, if thou be'st not Thin air, its point will graze on thee. Stabs the Page. Would, my Page! his death Was but endue justice for his breach of duty, For thus disturbing of my rest. I begin To feel strange horrors here, my Marble soul, Does strive to sweat it self into a tear, At thought of these sad accidents. Noble Friends, You're opportunely welcome, I was oppressed With sudden melancholy, but your loved presence Expels all thought of it, and I'm grown As full of sprightly mirth, as when my Hope's Aim at a glorious victory. noble Gordon, you do so much endear me by your love, I have no possibility to requite Your overflow of Courtesies, have you not Received new intelligence of business, Which does concern me. Never fear; how far Is't hence to Egers. Set forward thither; It were in vain my enemies swords to fear, When I do carry sharper poniards here. Exeunt. Noble Gentlemen, You do so load me with new courtesies, I know not first for which to give you thanks, And did a sullen humour not possess My much distempered faculties, my mirth Should speak my gratitude; but on the sudden, I am so overburdened with sad thoughts, I cannot suit my mind (so much oppressed) To jollity. Kind Gentlemen, my thanks To all of you, and would my disposition Afford me licence, I should not forget The soldiers ceremony, to begin Each of your happy wishes howsoever I will trench so far on my melancholy, To drink this cup. To all your healths. By no means, Let not my melancholy discompose Your thought of frolic mirth: There's Colonel Newma, Will in my absence take a cup or two For me: mean time be merry, it's my charge: Remember to observe it. Ex. Wallens. Would! 'twas no ghost, that was a Mortal touch, It came so home and heavily: base Traitor, Who ever thou art, thou durst not see my face, My looks would even have blasted thee: Would! Lesle, Gordon, Butler. Thus coward Hare, Prey on a dying Lion, for thee Lesle, Basely perfidious to me in thy faith, Receive my last breath in a curse: you have But played the Hangmen to perform heavens justice. Forgive me Heaven my passed offence: I die, Not for my ambition, but my cruelty. Dies. You do me too much honour, mighty Princes: And now my brave confederates in Arms, Where business of import commands attendance, That time's misspent, that's spent in useless words, I shall so please you, therefore speak the cause, (In brief) which urged me to desire this conference, And give you reasons for my strange revolt, From my so long loved Master. Nay thou shalt swear it too: alas gentle boy, I know thy nature is too full of fire, To mix with sordid earth, and though thy last, (Which is but manhood in thee) prompt thee on, To taste the sweets of Isabella's beauty, I know thou scornest so much to unmake thy Gentry, To take her for thy wife, perhaps she will not Give up her honour, till the Church has sealed That grant as lawful; freely I allow Her brave ambition, if as a reward Endue to her haughty pride, thy own hands kill her, And so wipe out the infamy. 'Twas a gem, my mother gave me, which I did preserve With as much care, as votaries do the relics Of their protecting Saints: I gave it you, When in the eager fervor of my youth, I destined you my wife: come hither minion, You who can steal the Jewels of men's hearts, With your enchanting sorceries, will not fear To make a venture upon pettier theft: Sirrah go bid them wait me here. Death slave, dare you play with a flame That shall consume you. Hang her up, or torments shall pay your breach of duty. I'll only Repose a little, and if I find My sad distemper altar, I'll return, And frolic in your company. So brave I shall soon quell your insolence; lay hands Ent. a Guard On this ignoble stru ̄ pet, hang her up, here in my presence. Your entreaties are cast on me, as fools throw oil on fire, Striving to extinguish it: hang her up, I'll hang you all else.