The Rhinegrave’s still far off.  Give but the orders,
This citadel shall close its gates upon him. 
If then he will besiege us, let him try it. 
But this I say; he’ll find his own destruction
With his whole force before these ramparts, sooner
Than weary down the valor of our spirit. 
He shall experience what a band of heroes,
Inspirited by an heroic leader,
Is able to perform.  And if indeed
It be thy serious wish to make amend
For that which thou hast done amiss—­this, this
Will touch and reconcile the Emperor,
Who gladly turns his heart to thoughts of mercy
And Friedland, who returns repentant to him,
Will stand yet higher in his Emperor’s favor
Than e’er he stood when he had never fallen.

WALLENSTEIN (contemplates him with surprise, remains awhile, betraying strong emotion).

Gordon—­your zeal and fervor lead you far. 
Well, well—­an old friend has a privilege. 
Blood, Gordon, has been flowing.  Never, never
Can the Emperor pardon me; and if he could,
Yet I—­I never could let myself be pardon’d. 
Had I foreknown what now has taken place,
That he, my dearest friend, would fall for me
My first death-offering; and had the heart
Spoken to me, as now it has done—­Gordon,
It may be, I might have bethought myself;
It may be too, I might not.  Might or might not
Is now an idle question.  All too seriously
Has it begun to end in nothing, Gordon! 
Let it then have its course.

[Stepping to the window.]

All dark and silent-at the castle too
All is now hush’d—­Light me, Chamberlain!

[The GROOM OF THE CHAMBER, who had entered during the last dialogue, and had been standing at a distance and listening to it with visible expressions of the deepest interest, advances in extreme agitation, and throws himself at the DUKE’S feet.]

And thou too!  But I know why thou dost wish
My reconcilement with the Emperor. 
Poor man! he hath a small estate in Carinthia,
And fears it will be forfeited because
He’s in my service.  Am I then so poor
That I no longer can indemnify
My servants?  Well! to no one I employ
Means of compulsion.  If ’tis thy belief
That fortune has fled from me, go! forsake me. 
This night for the last time mayst thou unrobe me,
And then go over to thy Emperor. 
Gordon, good night!  I think to make a long
Sleep of it:  for the struggle and the turmoil
Of this last day or two was great.  May’t please you! 
Take care that they awake me not too early.

[Exit WALLENSTEIN, the GROOM OF THE CHAMBER lighting him.SENI follows, GORDON remains on the darkened stage, following the DUKE with his eye, till he disappears at the farther end of the gallery:  then by his gestures the old man expresses the depth of his anguish and stands leaning against a pillar.]