not have done amiss, had I taken this
liberty more frequently. It is, however, incumbent on me to give the
original, with a literal translation.

Weh denen, die auf Dich vertraun, an Dich
Die sichre Huette illres Glueckes lehnen,
Gelockt von deiner geistlichen Gestalt.
Schnell unverhofft, bei naechtlich stiller Weile
Gaehrts in dem tueckschen Feuerschlunde, ladet
Sich aus mit tobender Gewalt, und weg
Treibt ueber alle Pflanzungen der Menschen
Der Wilde Strom in grausender Zerstoerung.

WALLENSTEIN.

Du schilderst deines Vaters Herz. Wie Du's
Beschreibst, so ist's in seinem Eingeweide,
In dieser schwarzen Heuchlers Brust gestaltet.
O, mich hat Hoellenkunst getaeuscht! Mir sandte
Der Abgrund den verflecktesten der Geister,
Den Luegenkundigsten herauf, and stellt' ihn
Als Freund an meiner Seite. Wer vermag
Der Hoelle Macht zu widerstehn! Ich zog
Den Basilisken auf an meinem Busen,
Mit meinem Herzblut naehrt ich ihn, er sog
Sich schwelgend voll an meiner Liebe Bruesten,
Ich hatte nimmer Arges gegen ihn,
Weit offen liess ich des Gedankens Thore,
Und warf die Schluessel weiser Vorsicht weg,
Am Sternenhimmel, etc.

LITERAL TRANSLATION

Alas! for those who place their confidence on thee, against thee lean
the secure hut of their happiness, allured by thy hospitable form.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, in a moment still as night, there is a
fermentation in the treacherous gulf of fire; it discharges itself
with raging force, and away over all the plantations of men drives the
wild stream in frightful devastation.--WALLENSTEIN. Thou art
portraying thy father's heart; as thou describest, even so is it
shaped in his entrails, in this black hypocrite's breast. O, the art
of hell has deceived me! The Abyss sent up to me the most spotted of
the spirits, the most skilful in lies, and placed him as a friend by
my side. Who may withstand the power of hell? I took the basilisk to
my bosom, with my heart's blood I nourished him; he sucked himself
glutfull at the breasts of my love. I never harbored evil toward him;
wide open did I leave the door of my thoughts; I threw away the key of
wise foresight. In the starry heaven, etc.--We find a difficulty in
believing this to have been written by Schiller.]

[Footnote 29:
This is a poor and inadequate translation of the affectionate simplicity
of the original--

Sie alle waren Fremdlinge; _Du_ warst
Das Kind des Hause