The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Illustrated Edition). Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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СКАЧАТЬ The first pledge of my fortune.

      Illo. And doubt not

       That his example will win over to you

       The best men in the army.

      Wallenstein. Go and send

       Isolani hither. Send him immediately.

       He is under recent obligations to me. 35

       With him will I commence the trial. Go. [ILLO exit.

      Wallenstein (turns himself round to the females). Lo, there the

       mother with the darling daughter!

       For once we’ll have an interval of rest —

       Come! my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour

       In the beloved circle of my family. 40

      Countess. ‘Tis long since we’ve been thus together, brother.

      Wallenstein (to the Countess aside). Can she sustain the news? Is

       she prepared?

      Countess. Not yet.

      Wallenstein. Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me,

       For there is a good spirit on thy lips.

       Thy mother praised to me thy ready skill: 45

       She says a voice of melody dwells in thee,

       Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice

       Will drive away from me the evil demon

       That beats his black wings close above my head.

      Duchess. Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father 50

       Hear some small trial of thy skill.

      Thekla. My mother!

       I —

      Duchess. Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer

       Thy father.

      Thekla. O my mother! I — I cannot.

      Countess. How, what is that, niece?

      Thekla (to the Countess). O spare me — sing — now — in this sore

       anxiety, 55

       Of the o’erburthen’d soul — to sing to him,

       Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong

       Into her grave!

      Duchess. How, Thekla? Humoursome?

       What! shall thy father have expressed a wish

       In vain?

      Countess. Here is the lute.

      Thekla. My God! how can I — 60

      [The orchestra plays. During the ritornello THEKLA

       expresses in her gestures and countenance the

       struggle of her feelings: and at the moment

       that she should begin to sing, contracts

       herself together, as one shuddering, throws

       the instrument down, and retires abruptly.

      Duchess. My child! O she is ill —

      Wallenstein. What ails the maiden?

       Say, is she often so?

      Countess. Since then herself

       Has now betrayed it, I too must no longer

       Conceal it.

      Wallenstein. What?

      Countess. She loves him!

      Wallenstein. Loves him! Whom?

      Countess. Max does she love! Max Piccolomini. 65

       Hast thou ne’er noticed it? Nor yet my sister?

      Duchess. Was it this that lay so heavy on her heart?

       God’s blessing on thee, my sweet child! Thou needest

       Never take shame upon thee for thy choice.

      Countess. This journey, if ‘twere not thy aim, ascribe it 70

       To thine own self. Thou shouldest have chosen another

       To have attended her.

      Wallenstein. And does he know it?

      Countess. Yes, and he hopes to win her.

      Wallenstein. Hopes to win her!

       Is the boy mad?

      Countess. Well — hear it from themselves.

      Wallenstein. He thinks to carry off Duke Friedland’s daughter! 75

      Aye? — The thought pleases me.

       The young man has no grovelling spirit.

      Countess. Since

       Such and such constant favour you have shewn him —

      Wallenstein. He chooses finally to be my heir.

       And true it is, I love the youth; yea, honour him. 80

       But must he therefore be my daughter’s husband!

       Is it daughters only? Is it only children

       That we must shew our favour by?

      Duchess. His noble disposition and his manners —

      Wallenstein. Win him my heart, but not my daughter.

      Duchess. Then 85

       His rank, his ancestors —

      Wallenstein. Ancestors! What?

       He is a subject, and my son-in-law

       I will seek out upon the thrones of Europe.

      Duchess. O dearest Albrecht! Climb we not too high.

       Lest we should fall too low.

      Wallenstein. What? have I paid 90

       A price so heavy to ascend this eminence,

       And jut out high above the common herd,

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