That you should woo and win her with the sword. Coun. What was that? Did you hear nothing? Seem'd, as if I heard Tumult and larum in the banquet-room. [Exit Countess. SCENE V. Thekla and Max. Piccolomini. Thek. (As soon as the Countess is out of sight, in a quick slow voice to Piccolomini.) Don't trust them! They are false ! Мах. Impossible! Thek. Trust no one here but me. I saw at once, They had a purpose. Мах. Purpose! but what purpose? And how can we be instrumental to it? Thek..I know no more than you; but yet, believe me: There's some design in this! To make us happy, To realize our union-trust me, love! They but pretend to wish it. Мах. But these Tertskies Why use we them at all? Why not your mother? A full and filial confidence. Thek. She doth love you, Doth rate you high before all others—but— Мах. I love not secrets. Why any secret? Mark, what I will do. I'll throw me at your father's feet-let him Decide upon my fortunes!-He is true, He wears no mask-he hates all crooked ways He is so good, so noble ! Thek. (falls on his neck) That are you! Max. You knew him only since this morn; but I Have liv'd ten years already in his presence, And who knows whether in this very moment He is not merely waiting for us both To own our loves, in order to unite us. You are silent?. You look at me with such a hopelessness! The happiness of us two. (Taking his hand tenderly.) Follow me! Let us not place too great a faith in men. These Tertskies—we will still be grateful to them Мах. O! shall we e'er be happy? Thek. Are we not happy now? Art thou not mine? Am I not thine? There lives within my soul A lofty courage-'tis love gives it me! I ought to be less open-ought to hide My heart more from thee-so decorum dictates. SCENE VI. To them enters the Countess Tertsky. Coun. (in a pressing manner) Come! My husband sends me for you-It is now The latest moment. (They not appearing to attend to what she says, she steps between them.) Flies swiftly with your Highness, Princess niece! Max. There is no hurry, aunt. Coun. Away! away! The folks begin to miss you. Twice already His father has ask'd for him. Thek. Ha! his father? Coun. You understand that, niece. Thek. Why needs he To go at all to that society? 'Tis not his proper company. They may Be worthy men, but he's too young for them. In brief, he suits not such society. Coun. You mean, you'd rather keep him wholly here? Thek. (with energy) Yes! you have hit it, aunt! That is my meaning. Leave him here wholly! Tell the company— Coun. What? have you lost your senses, niece ? Count, you remember the conditions. Come! Max. (to Thekla) Lady, I must obey. Farewell, dear lady! (Thekla turns away from him with a quick motion.) What say you then, dear lady? Thek. (without looking at him) Max. Can I, when you are angry Nothing. Go! (He draws up to her, their eyes meet, she stands silent a moment, then throws herself into his arms; he presses her fast to his heart.) Coun. Off! Heavens! if any one should come! Hark! What's that noise? It comes this way.—Off! (Max. tears himself away out of her arms, and goes. The Countess accompanies him. Thekla follows him with her eyes at first, walks restlessly across the room, then stops, and remains standing, lost in thought. A guitar lies on the table, she seizes it as by a sudden emotion, and after she has played awhile an irregular and melancholy symphony, she falls gradually into the music and sings.) Thekla. (Plays and sings.) The cloud doth gather, the greenwood roar, The damsel paces along the shore; The billows they tumble with might, with might; And she flings out her voice to the darksome night: Her bosom is swelling with sorrow; The world it is empty, the heart will die, There's nothing to wish for beneath the sky : Thou Holy One, call thy child away! I've lived and loved, and that was to-day Make ready my grave-clothes to-morrow.” I found it not in my power to translate this song with literal fidelity, preserving at the same time the Alcaic movement; and have therefore added the original with a prose translation. Some of my readers may be more fortunate. Thekla. (Spielt und singt.) Der Eichenwald brauset, die Wolken ziehn, Es bricht sich die Welle mit Macht, mit Macht, Das Auge von Weinen getrübet: Das Herz ist gestorben, die Welt ist leer, Und weiter giebt sie dem Wunsche nichts mehr. Ich habe genossen das irdische Glück, Ich habe gelebt und geliebet. LITERAL TRANSLATION. Thekla. (Plays and sings.) The oak-forest bellows, the clouds gather, the damsel walks to and fro on the green of the shore; the wave breaks with might, with might, and she sings out into the dark night, her eye discolour'd with weeping: the heart is dead, the world is empty, and further gives it nothing more to the wish. Thou Holy One, call thy child home, I have enjoyed the happiness of this world, I have lived and have loved. I cannot but add here an imitation of this song, with which the author of "The Tale of Rosamund Gray and Blind Margaret," has favoured me, and which appears to me to have caught the happiest manner of our old ballads. The clouds are black'ning, the storms threat'ning, The cavern doth mutter, the greenwood moan; Her eye upward roving: The world is empty, the heart is dead surely, To thy heaven, Holy One, take home thy little one, Both living and loving. |