SCENE V THEKLA, LADY NEUBRUNN. Thekla (falls on Lady Neubrunn's neck). Now, gentle Neubrunn, shew me the affection Which thou hast ever promised-prove thyself My own true friend and faithful fellow-pilgrim. This night we must away! Neubrunn. Away! and whither? Thekla. Whither! There is but one place in the world. Thither where he lies buried! To his coffin! Neubrunn. What would you do there? Thekla. What do there? That would'st thou not have asked, hadst thou e'er loved. Thekla. 5 10 Is now the only place, Where life yet dwells for me: detain me not! Of means to fly from hence. Neubrunn. Thekla. That time is past Your father's rage And now I fear no human being's rage. 15 Neubrunn. The sentence of the world! The tongue of calumny! Thekla. Whom am I seeking? Him who is no more. Am I then hastening to the arms -O God! I haste but to the grave of the beloved. 20 Neubrunn. And we alone, two helpless feeble women? Thekla. We will take weapons: my arms shall protect thee. Neubrunn. In the dark night-time? Thekla. Darkness will conceal us. Neubrunn. This rough tempestuous night Thekla. Under the hoofs of his war-horses? Neubrunn. And then the many posts of the enemy!- The journey's weary length- 22 arms] arm 1800, 1828, 1829. 30 Neubrunn. How can we pass the gates? Thekla. Go, do but go. Neubrunn. Should we be recognized― Gold opens them. Thekla. In a despairing woman, a poor fugitive, Will no one seek the daughter of Duke Friedland. Neubrunn. And where procure we horses for our flight? Thekla. My equerry procures them. Go and fetch him. Neubrunn. Dares he, without the knowledge of his lord? Thekla. He will, Go, only go. Delay no longer. Neubrunn. Dear lady! and your mother? 35 Thekla. Oh! my mother! Neubrunn. So much as she has suffered too already; Your tender mother-Ah! how ill prepared For this last anguish! Thekla. Go instantly. 40 Woe is me! my mother! [Pauses. Neubrunn. But think what you are doing! Thekla. What can be thought, already has been thought. Neubrunn. And being there, what purpose you to do? 45 Thekla. There a divinity will prompt my soul. Neubrunn. Your heart, dear lady, is disquieted! And this is not the way that leads to quiet. Thekla. To a deep quiet, such as he has found. There will my heart be eased, my tears will flow. Neubrunn. You frighten me so, lady, that no longer 50 55 60 [Exit LADY NEubrunn. 44 can 1800, 1828. 1829. SCENE VI Thekla. His spirit 'tis that calls me: 'tis the troop Themselves to avenge his death: and they accuse me Forsake their leader even in his death-they died for him! For me too was that laurel-garland twined That decks his bier. Life is an empty casket: I throw it from me. O! my only hope ; To die beneath the hoofs of trampling steeds- 5 10 [Exit THEKLA.1 (The curtain drops.) ACT V SCENE I SCENE-A Saloon, terminated by a gallery which extends far into the back-ground. WALLENSTEIN sitting at a table. Swedish Captain standing before him. Wallenstein. Commend me to your lord. I sympathize In his good fortune; and if you have seen me Deficient in the expressions of that joy Which such a victory might well demand, Attribute it to no lack of good will, For henceforth are our fortunes one. Farewell, And for your trouble take my thanks. To-morrow [The Swedish Captain retires. in thought, his eyes fixed The 5 WALLENSTEIN sits lost vacantly, and his head The COUNTESS TERTSKY The soliloquy of Thekla consists in the original of six-and-twenty lines, twenty of which are in rhymes of irregular recurrence. I thought it prudent to abridge it. Indeed the whole scene between Thekla and Lady Neubrunn might, perhaps, have been omitted without injury to the play. 1800, 1828, 1829. 4 they 1800, 1828, 1829. 5 they 1800, 1828, 1829. 6 I 1800, 1828, 1829. enters, stands before him awhile, unobserved by him; at length he starts, sees her, and recollects himself. Wallenstein. Com'st thou from her? Is she restored? How is she? Countess. My sister tells me, she was more collected After her conversation with the Swede. She has now retired to rest. Wallenstein. She will shed tears. Countess. The pang will soften, I find thee altered too, My brother! After such a victory I had expected to have found in thee Wallenstein. Be quiet. I ail nothing. Where's Countess. At a banquet-he and Illo. 10 15 20 Wallenstein (rises). The night's far spent. Betake thee to thy chamber. Countess. Bid me not go, O let me stay with thee! Wallenstein (moves to the window). There is a busy motion. in the Heaven, The wind doth chase the flag upon the tower, 25 1 These four lines are expressed in the original with exquisite felicity. 'Am Himmel ist geschäftige Bewegung, Des Thurmes Fahne jagt der Wind, schnell geht Der Wolken Zug, die Mondessichel wankt, Und durch die Nacht zeucht ungewisse Helle.' The word 'moon-sickle' reminds me of a passage in Harris, as quoted by Johnson, under the word 'falcated'. 'The enlightened part of the moon appears in the form of a sickle or reaping-hook, which is while she is moving from the conjunction to the opposition, or from the new moon to the full but from full to a new again, the enlightened part appears gibbous, and the dark falcated.' The words' wanken' and 'schweben' are not easily translated. The English words, by which we attempt to render them, are either vulgar or pedantic, or not of sufficiently general application. So 'der Wolken Zug' --The Draft, the Procession of Clouds.-The Masses of the Clouds sweep onward in swift stream. 17 thou 1800, 1828, 1829. the saloon). 1800, 1828, 1829. Before 21 Wallenstein (rises and strides across 25 sweep] fly 1800 sail MS. R. ! White stain of light, that single glimmering yonder, Is Jupiter. (A pause.) But now The blackness of the troubled element hides him! კი [He sinks into profound melancholy, and looks vacantly into the distance. Countess (looks on him mournfully, then grasps his hand). What art thou brooding on? Wallenstein. Methinks, If I but saw him, 'twould be well with me. He, is the star of my nativity, And often marvellously hath his aspect Shot strength into my heart. Countess. Thou'lt see him again. Wallenstein. See him again? O never, never again. Wallenstein. He is gone is dust. Countess. Wallenstein. He, the more fortunate! yea, he hath finished! Whom meanest thou then? For him there is no longer any future, 40 His life is bright-bright without spot it was, And cannot cease to be. No ominous hour Knocks at his door with tidings of mishap. Far off is he, above desire and fear; No more submitted to the change and chance 45 With him! but who knows what the coming hour Countess. Thou speakest Of Piccolomini. What was his death? 50 [WALLENSTEIN by a motion of his hand makes signs to Turn not thine eyes upon the backward view, 55 Before 37 Wallenstein (remains for a while with absent mind, then assumes a livelier manner, and turns suddenly to the Countess). 1800, 1828, 1829. 41 was 1800, 1828, 1829. 47 him 1800, 1828, 1829. |