Wallenstein. Yes, yes; they have ta'en offence. My latest conduct,
They railed at it, no doubt.
Duchess. O that they had!
I have been long accustomed to defend you, 35
To heal and pacify distempered spirits.
No; no one railed at you. They wrapped them up,
O Heaven! in such oppressive, solemn silence!—
Here is no every-day misunderstanding,
No transient pique, no cloud that passes over; 40
Something most luckless, most unhealable,
Has taken place. The Queen of Hungary
Used formerly to call me her dear aunt,
And ever at departure to embrace me—
Wallenstein. Now she omitted it?
Duchess. She did embrace me, [45]
But then first when I had already taken
My formal leave, and when the door already
Had closed upon me, then did she come out
In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,
And pressed me to her bosom, more with anguish [50]
Than tenderness.
Wallenstein (seizes her hand soothingly). Nay, now collect yourself,
And what of Eggenberg and Lichtenstein,
And of our other friends there?
Duchess. I saw none.
Wallenstein. The Ambassador from Spain, who once was wont
To plead so warmly for me?—
Duchess. Silent, Silent! 55
Wallenstein. These suns then are eclipsed for us. Henceforward
Must we roll on, our own fire, our own light.