QUESTENBERG. What! and not warn him either, what bad hands His lot has placed him in? OCTAVIO. I must perforce Leave him in wardship to his innocence. His young and open soul--dissimulation Is foreign to its habits! Ignorance Alone can keep alive the cheerful air, The unembarrassed sense and light free spirit, That makes the duke secure. QUESTENBERG (anxiously). My honored friend! most highly do I deem Of Colonel Piccolomini--yet--if-- Reflect a little---- OCTAVIO. I must venture it. Hush! There he comes! SCENE IV. MAX. PICCOLOMINI, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, QUESTENBERG. MAX. Ha! there he is himself. Welcome, my father! [He embraces his father. As he turns round, he observes QUESTENBERG, and draws back with a cold and reserved air. You are engaged, I see. I'll not disturb you. OCTAVIO. How, Max.? Look closer at this visitor. Attention, Max., an old friend merits--reverence Belongs of right to the envoy of your sovereign. MAX. (drily). Von Questenberg!--welcome--if you bring with you Aught good to our headquarters. QUESTENBERG (seizing his hand). Nay, draw not Your hand away, Count Piccolimini! Not on my own account alone I seized it, And nothing common will I say therewith. [Taking the hands of both. Octavio--Max. Piccolomini! O savior names, and full of happy omen! Ne'er will her prosperous genius turn from Austria, While two such stars, with blessed influences Beaming protection, shine above her hosts. MAX. Heh! Noble minister! You miss your part. You come not here to act a panegyric. You're sent, I know, to find fault and to scold us-- I must not be beforehand with my comrades. OCTAVIO (to MAX.). He comes from court, where people are not quite So well contented with the duke as here. MAX. What now have they contrived to find out in him? That he alone determines for himself What he himself alone doth understand! Well, therein he does right, and will persist in't Heaven never meant him for that passive thing That can be struck and hammered out to suit Another's taste and fancy. He'll not dance To every tune of every minister. It goes against his nature--he can't do it, He is possessed by a commanding spirit, And his, too, is the station of command. And well for us it is so! There exist Few fit to rule themselves, but few that use Their intellects intelligently. Then Well for the whole, if there be found a man Who makes himself what nature destined him, The pause, the central point, to thousand thousands Stands fixed and stately, like a firm-built column, Where all may press with joy and confidence-- Now such a man is Wallenstein; and if Another better suits the court--no other But such a one as he can serve the army. QUESTENBERG. The army? Doubtless!