SCENE IX

A Gothic and gloomy Apartment at the DUCHESS FRIEDLAND’S.  THEKLA on a seat, pale, her eyes closed.  The DUCHESS and LADY NEUBRUNN busied about her.  WALLENSTEIN and the COUNTESS in conversation.

WALLENST.

How knew she it so soon?

COUNTESS.

She seems to have
Foreboded some misfortune.  The report
Of an engagement, in the which had fallen
A colonel of the Imperial army, frighten’d her. 
I saw it instantly.  She flew to meet
The Swedish courier, and with sudden questioning
Soon wrested from him the disastrous secret. 
Too late we missed her, hasten’d after her,
We found her lying in his arms, all pale
And in a swoon.

WALLENSTEIN.

A heavy, heavy blow! 
And she so unprepared!  Poor child! how is it?

[Turning to the DUCHESS.]

Is she coming to herself?

DUCHESS.

Her eyes are opening.

COUNTESS.

She lives!

THEKLA (looking around her).

Where am I?

WALLENSTEIN (steps to her, raising her up in his arms).

Come, cheer’ly, Thekla! be my own brave girl! 
See, there’s thy loving mother.  Thou art in
Thy father’s arms.

THEKLA (standing up).

Where is he?  Is he gone?

DUCHESS.

Who gone, my daughter?

THEKLA.

He—­the man who utter’d
That word of misery.

DUCHESS.

O! think not of it,
My Thekla!

WALLENSTEIN.

Give her sorrow leave to talk! 
Let her complain—­mingle your tears with hers,
For she hath suffer’d a deep anguish; but
She’ll rise superior to it, for my Thekla
Hath all her father’s unsubdued heart.

THEKLA.

I am not ill.  See, I have power to stand. 
Why does my mother weep?  Have I alarm’d her? 
It is gone by—­I recollect myself—­

[She casts her eyes round the room, as seeking some one.]

Where is he?  Please you, do not hide him from me. 
You see I have strength enough:  now I will hear him.

DUCHESS.

No; never shall this messenger of evil
Enter again into thy presence, Thekla!

THEKLA.

My father—­

WALLENSTEIN.

Dearest daughter!

THEKLA.

I’m not weak—­
Shortly I shall be quite myself again. 
You’ll grant me one request?

WALLENSTEIN.

Name it, my daughter.

THEKLA.

Permit the stranger to be called to me,
And grant me leave that by myself I may
Hear his report and question him.

DUCHESS.

No, never!

COUNTESS.

’Tis not advisable—­assent not to it.

WALLENST.

Hush!  Wherefore wouldst thou speak with him, my daughter?