COUNTESS. I fear not that. They have not evidence To attaint him legally, and they avoid The avowal of an arbitrary power. They'll let the duke resign without disturbance. I see how all will end. The King of Hungary Makes his appearance, and 'twill of itself Be understood, and then the duke retires. There will not want a formal declaration. The young king will administer the oath To the whole army; and so all returns To the old position. On some morrow morning The duke departs; and now 'tis stir and bustle Within his castles. He will hunt and build; Superintend his horses' pedigrees, Creates himself a court, gives golden keys, And introduceth strictest ceremony In fine proportions, and nice etiquette; Keeps open table with high cheer: in brief, Commenceth mighty king--in miniature. And while he prudently demeans himself, And gives himself no actual importance, He will be let appear whate'er he likes: And who dares doubt, that Friedland will appear A mighty prince to his last dying hour? Well now, what then? Duke Friedland is as others, A fire-new noble, whom the war hath raised To price and currency, a Jonah's gourd, An over-night creation of court-favor, Which, with an undistinguishable ease, Makes baron or makes prince. WALLENSTEIN (in extreme agitation). Take her away. Let in the young Count Piccolomini. COUNTESS. Art thou in earnest? I entreat thee! Canst thou consent to bear thyself to thy own grave, So ignominiously to be dried up? Thy life, that arrogated such an height To end in such a nothing! To be nothing, When one was always nothing, is an evil That asks no stretch of patience, a light evil; But to become a nothing, having been---- WALLENSTEIN (starts up in violent agitation). Show me a way out of this stifling crowd, Ye powers of aidance! Show me such a way As I am capable of going. I Am no tongue-hero, no fine virtue-prattler; I cannot warm by thinking; cannot say To the good luck that turns her back upon me Magnanimously: "Go; I need thee not." Cease I to work, I am annihilated. Dangers nor sacrifices will I shun, If so I may avoid the last extreme; But ere I sink down into nothingness, Leave off so little, who began so great, Ere that the world confuses me with those Poor wretches, whom a day creates and crumbles, This age and after ages [2] speak my name With hate and dread; and Friedland be redemption For each accursed deed.