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will hear, however, What the Swede has to say to me. ILLO (eagerly to TERZKY). Go, call him, He stands without the door in waiting. WALLENSTEIN. Stay! Stay but a little. It hath taken me All by surprise; it came too quick upon me; 'Tis wholly novel that an accident, With its dark lordship, and blind agency, Should force me on with it. ILLO. First hear him only, And then weigh it. [Exeunt TERZKY and ILLO. SCENE IV. WALLENSTEIN (in soliloquy). Is it possible? Is't so? I can no longer what I would? No longer draw back at my liking? I Must do the deed, because I thought of it? And fed this heart here with a dream? Because I did not scowl temptation from my presence, Dallied with thoughts of possible fulfilment, Commenced no movement, left all time uncertain, And only kept the road, the access open? By the great God of Heaven! it was not My serious meaning, it was ne'er resolved. I but amused myself with thinking of it. The free-will tempted me, the power to do Or not to do it. Was it criminal To make the fancy minister to hope, To fill the air with pretty toys of air, And clutch fantastic sceptres moving toward me? Was not the will kept free? Beheld I not The road of duty close beside me--but One little step, and once more I was in it! Where am I? Whither have I been transported? No road, no track behind me, but a wall, Impenetrable, insurmountable, Rises obedient to the spells I muttered And meant not--my own doings tower behind me. [Pauses and remains in deep thought. A punishable man I seem, the guilt, Try what I will, I cannot roll off from me; The equivocal demeanor of my life Bears witness on my prosecutor's party. And even my purest acts from purest motives Suspicion poisons with malicious gloss. Were I that thing for which I pass, that traitor, A goodly outside I had sure reserved, Had drawn the coverings thick and double round me, Been calm and chary of my utterance; But being conscious of the innocence Of my intent, my uncorrupted will, I gave way to my humors, to my passion: Bold were my words, because my deeds were not Now every planless measure, chance event, The threat of rage, the vaunt of joy and triumph, And all the May-games of a heart overflowing, Will they connect, and weave them all together Into one web of treason; all will be plan, My eye ne'er absent from the far-off mark, Step tr
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