Wallenstein/The Piccolomini/A5S5

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SCENE V.

Octavio Piccolomini. Butler.

BUTLER.
At your command, Lieutenant General.
OCTAVIO.
Welcome, as honor'd friend and visitor.
BUTLER.
You do me too much honour.
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OCTAVIO. (after both have seated themselves.)You have not Return'd the advances which I made you yesterday— Misunderstood them, as mere empty forms. That wish proceeded from my heart—I was In earnest with you—for 'tis now a time In which the honest should unite most closely.
BUTLER.'Tis only the like-minded can unite.
OCTAVIO.True! and I name all honest men like-minded.I never charge a man but with those actsTo which his character deliberatelyImpels him; for alas! the violenceOf blind misunderstandings often thrustsThe very best of us from the right track.You came thro' Frauenberg. Did the Count GalasSay nothing to you? Tell me. He's my friend.
BUTLER.His words were lost on me.
OCTAVIO.It grieves me sorely To hear it: for his counsel was most wise. I had myself the like to offer.
BUTLER.Spare Yourself the trouble—me th' embarrassment, To have deserv'd so ill your good opinion.
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OCTAVIO. The time is precious—let us talk openly. You know how matters stand here. Wallenstein Meditates treason—I can tell you further— He has committed treason; but few hours Have past, since he a covenant concluded With th' enemy. The messengers are now Full on their way to Egra and to' Prague. To-morrow he intends to lead us over To th' enemy. But he deceives himself; For Prudence wakes—the Emperor has still Many and faithful friends here, and they stand In closest union, mighty tho' unseen. This manifesto sentences the Duke— Recals the obedience of the army from him, And summons all the loyal, all the honest, To join and recognize in me their leader. Choose—will you share with us an honest cause? Or with the evil share an evil lot.
BUTLER. (Rises.) His lot is mine.
OCTAVIO. Is that your last resolve?
BUTLER. It is.
OCTAVIO. Nay, but bethink you, Colonel Butler! As yet you have time. Within my faithful breast That rashly utter'd word remains interr'd. Recal it, Butler! chuse a better party. You have not chosen the right one.
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BUTLER. (going.)Any otherCommands for me, Lieutenant General?
OCTAVIO.See your white hairs! Recal that word!
BUTLER.Farewell!
OCTAVIO.What would you draw this good and gallant swordIn such a cause? Into a curse would youTransform the gratitude which you have earn'dBy forty years' fidelity from Austria?
BUTLER. {laughing with bitterness.)Gratitude from the house of Austria.(he is going.)OCTAVIO. (permits him to go as far as the door,then calls after him.)Butler!
BUTLER.What wish you?
OCTAVIO.How was't with the Count?
BUTLER.Count? what?
OCTAVIO. (coldly,)The title that you wish'd I mean.
BUTLER. (starts in sudden passiwn.)Hell and damnation!
OCTAVIO. (coldly.)You petition'd for it —And your petition was repell'd—Was it so?
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BUTLER.Your insolent scoff shall not go by unpunished.Draw!
OCTAVIO.Nay! your sword to 'ts sheath! and tell me calmlyHow all that happen'd. I will not refuse youYour satisfaction afterwards.—Calmly, Butler!
BUTLER.Be the whole world acquainted with the weaknessFor which I never can forgive myself.Lieutenant General! Yes—I have ambition.Ne'er was I able to endure contempt.It stung me to the quick, that birth and titleShould have more weight than merit has in th' army.I would fain not be meaner than my equal,So in an evil hour I let myselfBe tempted to that measure—It was folly! But yet so hard a penance it deserv'd not.It might have been refus'd; but wherefore barbAnd venom the refusal with contempt?Why dash to earth and crush with heaviest scornThe grey-hair'd man, the faithful Veteran?Why to the baseness of his parentageRefer him with such cruel roughness, onlyBecause he had a weak hour and forgot himself?But nature gives a sting e'en to the wormWhich wanton Power treads on in sport and insult.
OCTAVIO.You must have been calumniated. Guess youThe enemy, who did you this ill service?
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BUTLER.Be't who it will—a most low-hearted scoundrel,Some vile court-minion must it be, some Spaniard,Some young squire of some ancient family,In whose light I may stand, some envious knave,Stung to his soul by my fair self-earn'd honours!
OCTAVIO.But tell me! Did the Duke approve that measure?
BUTLER.Himself impell'd me to it, used his interestIn my behalf with all the warmth of friendship.
OCTAVIO.Ay? Are you sure of that?
BUTLER.I read the letter.
OCTAVIO.And so did I—but the contents were different.(Butler is suddenly struck)By chance I'm in possession of that letter—Can leave it to your own eyes to convince you.(he gives him the letter)
BUTLER.Ha! what is this?
OCTAVIO.I fear me, Colonel Butler,An infamous game have they been playing with you. The Duke, you say, impell'd you to this measure?Now, in this letter talks he in contemptConcerning you, counsels the Minister ​To give sound chastisement to your conceit,For so he calls it. (Butler reads through the letter, his knees  tremble, he seizes a chair, and sinks down  in it.)You have no enemy, no persecutor;There's no one wishes ill to you. AscribeThe insult you receiv'd to the Duke only.His aim is clear and palpable. He wish'dTo tear you from your Emperor—he hop'dTo gain from your revenge what he well knew(What your long-tried fidelity convinc'd him)He n'er could dare expect from your calm reason.A blind tool would he make you, in contemptUse you, as means of most abandon'd ends.He has gain'd his point. Too well has he succeededIn luring you away from that good pathOn which you had been journeying forty years!
BUTLER. (his voice trembling)Can e'er the Emperor's Majesty forgive me?
OCTAVIO.More than forgive you. He would fain compensateFor that affront, and most unmerited grievanceSustain'd by a deserving, gallant veteran.From his free impulse he confirms the present,Which the Duke made you for a wicked purpose.The regiment, which you now command, is your's. {Butler attempts to rise, sinks down again. He  labours inwardly with violent emotions; tries ​  to speak, and cannot. At length he takes his  sword from the belt, and offers it to Piccolomini.)
OCTAVIO.What wish you? Recollect yourself, friend.
BUTLER.Take it.
OCTAVIO.But to what purpose? Calm yourself.
BUTLER.O take it!I am no longer worthy of this sword.
OCTAVIO.Receive it then anew from my hands—and Wear it with honour for the right cause ever.
BUTLER.———Perjure myself to such a gracious Sovereign!
OCTAVIO.You'll make amends. Quick! break off from the Duke!
BUTLER.Break off from him!
OCTAVIO.What now?, Bethink thyself.
BUTLER. (no longer governing his emotion) Only break off from him!—He dies! he dies!
OCTAVIO.Come after me to Frauenberg, where nowAll, who are loyal, are assembling under Counts Altringer and Galas. Many others ​I've brought to a remembrance of their duty. This night be sure, that you escape from Pilsen.
 BUTLER. (strides up and down in excessive   agitation, then steps up to Octavio with   resolved countenance.) Count Piccolomini! Dare that man speak Of honour to you, who once broke his troth.
OCTAVIO.He, who repents so deeply of it, dares.
BUTLER.Then leave me here, upon my word of honour!
OCTAVIO.What's your design?
BUTLER.Leave me and my regiment.
OCTAVIO.I have full confidence in you. But tell me What are you brooding?
BUTLER.That the deed will tell you. Ask me no more at present. Trust to me. Ye may trust safely. By the living God Ye give him over, not to his good angel! [Exit Butler.Farewell!
SERVANT. (enters with a billet.) A stranger left it, and is gone. The Prince-Duke's horses wait for you below.[Exit Servant.  
OCTAVIO. (reads.)"Be sure, make haste! Your faithful Isolan."—O that I had but left this town behind me. ​To split upon a rock so near the haven!—Away! This is no longer a safe place for me! Where can my son be tarrying?

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