Читать книгу The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Illustrated Edition) - Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Страница 209

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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 1] [Observing the countenance of the Duchess. 1800, 1828, 1829.