The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
GORDON.
O! to save such a man--
BUTLER.
What!
GORDON.
It is worth A sacrifice. Come, friend! Be n.o.ble-minded!
Our own heart, and not other men's opinions, Forms our true honor.
BUTLER (_with a cold and haughty air_).
He is a great Lord, This Duke--and I am but of mean importance.
This is what you would say! Wherein concerns it The world at large, you mean to hint to me, Whether the man of low extraction keeps Or blemishes his honor-- So that the man of princely rank be saved?
We all do stamp our value on ourselves: The price we challenge for ourselves is given us.
There does not live on earth the man so station'd That I despise myself, compared with him.
Man is made great or little by his own will; Because I am true to mine, therefore he dies.
GORDON.
I am endeavoring to move a rock.
Thou hadst a mother, yet no human feelings.
I cannot hinder you, but may some G.o.d Rescue him from you!
[_Exit_ GORDON.]
BUTLER[32] (_alone_).
I treasured my good name all my life long; The Duke has cheated me of life's best jewel, So that I blush before this poor weak Gordon!
He prizes above all his fealty; His conscious soul accuses him of nothing; In opposition to his own soft heart He subjugates himself to an iron duty.
Me in a weaker moment pa.s.sion warp'd; I stand beside him, and must feel myself The worse man of the two. What, though the world Is ignorant of my purposed treason, yet _One_ man does know it, and can prove it too-- High-minded Piccolomini!
There lives the man who can dishonor me!
This ignominy blood alone can cleanse!
Duke Friedland, thou or I--Into my own hands Fortune delivers me--The dearest thing a man has is himself.
SCENE IX
_A Gothic and gloomy Apartment at the_ d.u.c.h.eSS FRIEDLAND'S.
THEKLA _on a seat, pale, her eyes closed. The_ d.u.c.h.eSS _and_ LADY NEUBRUNN _busied about her_. WALLENSTEIN _and the_ COUNTESS _in conversation_.
WALLENST.
How knew she it so soon?
COUNTESS.
She seems to have Foreboded some misfortune. The report Of an engagement, in the which had fallen A colonel of the Imperial army, frighten'd her.
I saw it instantly. She flew to meet The Swedish courier, and with sudden questioning Soon wrested from him the disastrous secret.
Too late we missed her, hasten'd after her, We found her lying in his arms, all pale And in a swoon.
WALLENSTEIN.
A heavy, heavy blow!
And she so unprepared! Poor child! how is it?
[_Turning to the_ d.u.c.h.eSS.]
Is she coming to herself?
d.u.c.h.eSS.
Her eyes are opening.
COUNTESS.
She lives!
THEKLA (_looking around her_).
Where am I?
WALLENSTEIN (_steps to her, raising her up in his arms_).
Come, cheer'ly, Thekla! be my own brave girl!
See, there's thy loving mother. Thou art in Thy father's arms.
THEKLA (_standing up_).
Where is he? Is he gone?
d.u.c.h.eSS.
Who gone, my daughter?
THEKLA.
He--the man who utter'd That word of misery.
d.u.c.h.eSS.
O! think not of it, My Thekla!
WALLENSTEIN.
