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

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I cannot utter it!

      Wallenstein. Proceed!

      Duchess. They talk ——

      Wallenstein. Well!

      Duchess. Of a second ——

      Wallenstein. Second ——

      Duchess. More disgraceful

       —— Dismission.

      Wallenstein. Talk they?

       O! they force, they thrust me

       With violence, against my own will, onward! 75

      Duchess. O! if there yet be time, my husband! if

       By giving way and by submission, this

       Can be averted — my dear lord, give way!

       Win down your proud heart to it! Tell that heart

       It is your sovereign lord, your Emperor 80

       Before whom you retreat. O let no longer

       Low tricking malice blacken your good meaning

       With abhorred venomous glosses. Stand you up

       Shielded and helm’d and weapon’d with the truth,

       And drive before you into uttermost shame 85

       These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have we —

       You know it! — The swift growth of our good fortune

       It hath but set us up, a mark for hatred.

       What are we, if the sovereign’s grace and favour

       Stand not before us? 90

      [After 17] [The DUCHESS casts her eyes on the ground and remains

       silent. 1800, 1828, 1829.

       pause). 1800, 1828, 1829. did 1800, 1828, 1829.

       1800, 1828, 1829.

      And people … Ah! — [Stifling extreme emotion.

      1800, 1828, 1829.

       1800, 1828, 1829.

      Wallenstein. Talk they? [Strides across the chamber in vehement

       agitation.

      1800, 1828, 1829.

      [Before 76] Duchess (presses near to him, in entreaty). 1800, 1828,

       1829.

       Table of Contents

      Enter the COUNTESS TERTSKY, leading in her hand the PRINCESS THEKLA,

       richly adorned with brilliants.

      COUNTESS, THEKLA, WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS.

      Countess. How, sister? What already upon business,

       And business of no pleasing kind I see,

       Ere he has gladdened at his child. The first

       Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!

       This is thy daughter. 5

      (THEKLA approaches with a shy and timid air, and bends

       herself as about to kiss his hand. He receives her

       in his arms, and remains standing for some time

       lost in the feeling of her presence.)

      Wallenstein. Yes! pure and lovely hath hope risen on me:

       I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.

      Duchess. ‘Twas but a little child when you departed

       To raise up that great army for the Emperor:

       And after, at the close of the campaign, 10

       When you returned home out of Pomerania,

       Your daughter was already in the convent,

       Wherein she has remain’d till now.

      Wallenstein. The while

       We in the field here gave our cares and toils

       To make her great, and fight her a free way 15

       To the loftiest earthly good, lo! mother Nature

       Within the peaceful silent convent walls

       Has done her part, and out of her free grace

       Hath she bestowed on the beloved child

       The godlike; and now leads her thus adorned 20

       To meet her splendid fortune, and my hope.

      Duchess (to Thekla). Thou wouldst not have recognized thy father,

       Wouldst thou, my child? She counted scarce eight years,

       When last she saw your face.

      Thekla. O yes, yes, mother!

       At the first glance! — My father is not altered. 25

       The form, that stands before me, falsifies

       No feature of the image that hath lived

       So long within me!

      Wallenstein. The voice of my child!

      [Then after a pause.

      I was indignant at my destiny

       That it denied me a man-child to be 30

       Heir of my name and of my prosperous fortune,

       And re-illume my soon extinguished being

       In a proud line of princes.

       I wronged my destiny. Here upon this head

       So lovely in its maiden bloom will I 35

       Let fall the garland of a life of war,

       Nor deem it lost, if only I can wreath it

       Transmitted to a regal ornament,

       Around these beauteous brows.

      [He clasps her in his arms as PICCOLOMINI enters.

      [After

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