Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 200

I cannot suffer that thy noble soul

Should by a word of falsehood be deceived.

In cunning rich and practised in deceit

A web ensnaring let the stranger weave

To snare the stranger's feet; between us twain

Be truth!

I am Orestes! and this guilty head

Is stooping to the tomb, and covets death;

It will be welcome now in any shape.

Whoe'er thou art, for thee and for my friend

I wish deliverance—I desire it not.

Thou seem'st to linger here against thy will;

Contrive some means of flight, and leave me here

My lifeless corpse hurl'd headlong from the rock,

My blood shall mingle with the dashing waves,

And bring a curse upon this barbarous shore!

Return together home to lovely Greece,

With joy a new existence to commence.

[ORESTES retires.]