Justina "Tis shame, 'tis torment, 'tis despair. Demon But how Justina Consists in God. My defense [He vainly endeavors to force her, and at last releases her. Demon Woman, thou hast subdued me, First by dishonoring thee, and then by turning Justina I [Exit. Appeal to Heaven against thee; so that Heaven Upon my fame vanish in idle thought, Even as flame dies in the envious air, And as the floweret wanes at morning frost, And thou shouldst never But, alas! to whom Do I still speak? - Did not a man but now Justina I saw him. Lisander "Tis impossible; the doors Which led to this apartment were all lockt. Livia [aside] I dare say it was Moscon whom she saw, Lisander Livia It must My master's in the right. Justina Livia Oh would it were Some mortal spell is wrought against my frame I should have sought my sorrow and my shame Even in the temple of the highest God Justina [putting on her cloak] Here. In this, as in a shroud of snow, may I Lisander Livia And I will go with thee. When once I see them safe out of the house Justina So do I confide In thy just favor, Heaven! Lisander Let us go. Thine is the cause, great God! turn for my sake, THE TIMES OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. By ZACHRIS TOPELIUS. [ZACHRIS TOPELIUS: Swedish poet, novelist, and historian; born at Kuddnäs, near Nykarleby, Finland, January 14, 1818; died March, 1898. Educated at Helsingfors. From 1841 till 1860 editor of the Helsingfors Tidningar (Times), in which many of his poems and novels were originally published. From 1854 till 1874 he filled various chairs in the university. His songs and lyrics have been collected in several volumes. His best-known dramas are: "Efter femtio år" (After Fifty Years), 1851, and “Regina von Emmeritz," 1854. His “Faltskärns Berättelser," 1853-1867, have been translated into English under the title "The Surgeon's Stories." His children's tales, "Läsning för Barn," have also been successful in English.] NUREMBERG AND LÜTZEN. WALLENSTEIN the Terrible had become reconciled with the emperor, collected a formidable army, and turned like a dark thundercloud toward the wealthy city of Nuremberg. Gustaf Adolf broke off his victorious career in Bavaria, to hurry to meet him; and there, in two strongly fortified encampments, both armies stood motionless, opposite each other, for eleven weeks-the panther and the lion, crouching ready for a spring, and watching sharply each other's slightest movement. The whole region was drained for the subsistence of these armies, and provisions were constantly brought in from a distance by foraging parties. Among the Imperialists, Isolani's Croats distinguished themselves in this work; among the Swedes, Taupadel's dragoons and Stålhandske's Finnish cavalry. Famine, the heat of summer, disease, and the depredations of the German soldiers spread want and misery everywhere. Gustaf Adolf, who, after joining Oxenstjerna's and Banér's combined armies, had a force of fifty thousand men, marched, on the 24th of August, 1632, against Wallenstein, who, with sixty thousand men, stood behind impregnable fortifications. Long before day, Torstenson's artillery commenced to thunder against Alte Veste. In the darkness of night, five hundred German musketeers of the White Brigade climbed up the steep heights, and, in spite of the terrible shower of balls, mounted the ramparts. For a moment victory seemed to reward their contempt of death; the drowsy foes' bewilderment, the shrieks of the women, and the Swedish balls, which threw down tents and people, favored the attack. But Wallenstein maintained sense and composure, sent away the women, and turned mass upon mass against the besiegers. The gallant brigade was driven back with loss. The king did not give Then way; once more the White Brigade stormed in vain. Gustaf Adolf called his Finns, "in order," as Schiller says, "to put the German cowards to the blush with their northern courage." These were the East Bothnians, in the ranks of the Swedish brigade. They saw death before their eyes in the shape of a hundred fiery mouths; but resolutely, with unshaken courage, they clambered up the precipice, slippery with rain and blood. But against these solid ramparts, against this murderous shower of balls, all their valor rebounded; in the midst of fire and death, they tried once more to gain a foothold on the rampart, but in vain; the few who had escaped the bullets and pikes were hurled violently back. For the first time, Gustaf Adolf's Finns were seen to retreat; and equally futile were all attempts of succeeding troops. The Imperialists hastened out in pursuit, but were driven back. With great loss of life, the strife waged all day; many of the bravest leaders fell; and the death angel again aimed a bullet at the king, but without harming more than the sole of his boot. On the left wing, the Imperial cavalry came in collision with the Swedes. Cronenberg, with his cuirassiers, clad in mail from head to foot, and widely celebrated as the "Invincibles," bore the Hessians to the ground. The Landgrave of Hesse remarked, resentfully, that the king wished to spare his own troops at the expense of the Germans. "Well, then," said Gustaf Adolf, "I will send my Finns; and I hope that the change of men will give a change of luck." Stålhandske, with the Finns, were now sent against Cronenberg and the "Invincibles." Between these superb troops ensued a proud, a glorious struggle, of imperishable memory. On the shore of the Regnitz River, thickly overgrown with bushes, the two detachments encountered each other, man to man, horse to horse; sword blades were dulled against helmets, long pistols flashed, and many valiant horsemen were driven down in the whirl of the river. It is probable that the Finnish horses here also held out better than the beautiful and swift Hungarian chargers; and this contributed to the victory. The brave Cronenberg fell; his "Invincibles" fled before the Finns. In his place, Fugger, with a formidable force, charged the Finns, and drove them, under constant fighting, with breast toward the enemy, slowly to the underbrush. But here the Imperialists were met by the fire of the Swedish infantry. Fugger fell, and his cavalry were again repulsed by the fatigued Finns. At nightfall, more than three thousand dead covered the heights and plain. "In the battle of Alte Veste," says Schiller, "Gustaf Adolf was considered conquered because he did not himself conquer." The next day he withdrew to Bavaria. Forty-four thousand persons-friends and enemies — had pest and war swallowed up during these fatal weeks in and around Nuremberg. The darkness of autumn increased; its fogs oovered Germany's blood-stained soil; and yet there seemed to be no end to the struggle. But a great spirit was destined here, after many storms, to find a peaceful haven, and to go from life's autumnal evening to the eternal light. Nearer and nearer hovered the death angel over Gustaf Adolf's noble head, shedding upon it the halo of a higher world, which is often seen to beam around the noble of earth in their last moments. The multitude about them misunderstand it, but the departing ones divine the meaning. Two days before his death, the people of Naumburg paid homage to Gustaf Adolf as to a god; but through his soul flew a presentiment of the end of his career, and he said to the court minister, Fabricius: 66 Perhaps God will soon punish both their idolatrous folly, and me, who am the object of it, and show that I also am a weak and mortal person." The king had gone up to Saxony, to follow in the track of the ravaging Wallenstein. At Arnstadt he took farewell of Axel Oxenstjerna; at Erfurt, of Queen Maria Eleonora. There and at Nuremberg it was perceived, from many of his arrangements, that he was prepared for what was coming. Wallenstein, who believed that the king had gone into winter quarters, sent Pappenheim, with twelve thousand men, to Halle; he remained at Lützen, with twenty-eight thousand men, and the king in Naumburg with twenty thousand. But on the 4th of November, when Gustaf Adolf learned of Pappenheim's departure, he hastily broke camp to surprise his weakened enemy, and would have succeeded had he come to the attack on the 5th. But Providence threw in his triumphant path a slight obstacle—the little stream Rippach, 1 |