The Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In a balcony we were standing mute,
And gazing out upon the dreary field:
Before us the dragoons were riding onward,
The safeguard which the Duke had sent us-heavy
The inquietude of parting lay upon me,
And trembling ventured I at length these words:
This all reminds me, noble maiden, that
To-day I must take leave of my good fortune.
A few hours more, and you will find a father,
Will see yourself surrounded by new friends,
And I henceforth shall be but as a stranger,
Lost in the many-"Speak with my aunt Tertsky!"
With hurrying voice she interrupted me.
She falter'd. I beheld a glowing red
Possess her beautiful cheeks, and from the ground
Raised slowly up, her eye met mine-no longer
Did I control myself.

[The Princess THEKLA appears at the door, and
remains standing, observed by the COUNTESS,
but not by PICCOLOMINI.

MAX.

This morning, when I found you in the circle
Of all your kindred, in your father's arms,
Beheld myself an alien in this circle,
O! what an impulse felt I in that moment
To fall upon his neck, to call him father!
But his stern eye o'erpower'd the swelling passion-
It dared not but be silent. And those brilliants,
That like a crown of stars enwreathed your brows,
They scared me too! O wherefore, wherefore should he
At the first meeting spread as 't were the ban
Of excommunication round you,--wherefore
Dress up the angel as for sacrifice,

And cast upon the light and joyous heart
The mournful burthen of his station? Fitly
May love dare woo for love; but such a splendor
Might none but monarchs venture to approach.

Yes; and soon must go. Where have you stay'd so long?

THEKLA.

Alas! my mother Wept so again! and I--I see her suffer, Yet cannot keep myself from being happy.

MAX.

Now once again I have courage to look on you. To-day at noon I could not.

The dazzle of the jewels that play'd round you Hid the beloved from me.

THEKLA.

Then you saw me With your eye only-and not with your heart?

The game of life Looks cheerful, when one carries in one's heart The unalienable treasure. "Tis a game, Which having once review'd, I turn more joyous Back to my deeper and appropriate bliss.

[Breaking off, and in a sportive tone In this short time that I've been present here, What new unheard-of things have I not seen! And yet they all must give place to the wonder Which this mysterious castle guards.

COUNTESS (recollecting).

And what Can this be then? Methought I was acquainted With all the dusky corners of this house

It was a strange
Sensation that came o'er me, when at first
From the broad sunshine I stepp'd in; and now
The narrowing line of day-light, that ran after
The closing door, was gone; and all about me
Twas pale and dusky night, with many shadows
Fantastically cast. Here six or seven
Colossal statues, and all kings, stood round me
In a half-circle. Each one in his hand
A sceptre bore, and on his head a star;
And in the tower no other light was there

But from these stars: all seem'd to come from them.
"These are the planets," said that low old man,
"They govern worldly fates, and for that cause
Are imaged here as kings. He farthest from you,
Spiteful, and cold, an old man melancholy,
With bent and yellow forehead, he is Saturn.
He opposite, the king with the red light,
An arm'd man for the battle, that is Mars:
And both these bring but little luck to man."
But at his side a lovely lady stood,
The star upon her head was soft and bright,
And that was Venus, the bright star of joy.
On the left hand, lo! Mercury, with wings.
Quite in the middle glitter'd silver bright
A cheerful man, and with a monarch's mien;
And this was Jupiter, my father's star;
And at his side I saw the Sun and Moon.

MAX.

O never rudely will I blame his faith

In the might of stars and angels! 'Tis not merely
The human being's Pride that peoples space
With life and mystical predominance :
Since likewise for the stricken heart of Love
This visible nature, and this common world,
Is all too narrow: yea, a deeper import

Than lies upon that truth, we live to learn.

For fable is Love's world, his home, his birth-place
Delightedly dwells he 'mong fays and talismans,
And spirits; and delightedly believes
Divinities, being himself divine.

The intelligible forms of ancient poets,
The fair humanities of old religion,

The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty,
That had her haunts in dale, or piny mountain,
Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring,

Or chasms and wat'ry depths; all these have vanish'd.
They live no longer in the faith of reason!
But still the heart doth need a language, still
Doth the old instinct bring back the old names,
And to yon starry world they now are gone,
Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth
With man as with their friend;* and to the lover
Yonder they move, from yonder visible sky
Shoot influence down: and even at this day
'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great,
And Venus who brings every thing that's fair!

THEKLA.

And if this be the science of the stars,

Will learn acquaintance with this cheerful faith.
I too, with glad and zealous industry,
It is a gentle and affectionate thought,
That in immeasurable heights above us,

At our first birth, the wreath of love was woven,
With sparkling stars for flowers.

COUNTESS.

Not only roses,
But thorns too hath the heaven; and well for you
Leave they your wreath of love inviolate:
What Venus twined, the bearer of glad fortune,
The sullen orb of Mars soon tears to pieces.

MAX.

Soon will his gloomy empire reach its close.
Blest be the General's zeal into the laurel
Will he inweave the olive-branch, presenting
Peace to the shouting nations. Then no wish
Will have remain'd for his great heart! Enough
Live for himself and his. To his domains
Has he perform'd for glory, and can now
Will he retire; he has a stately seat
Of fairest view at Gitschin; Reichenberg,
And Friedland Castle, both lie pleasantly-
Even to the foot of the huge mountains here
Stretches the chase and covers of his forests:
His ruling passion, to create the splendid,
He can indulge without restraint; can give
A princely patronage to every art,

And to all worth a sovereign's protection.
Can build, can plant, can watch the starry courses-

MAX.

The happiness of us two. [Taking his hand tenderly. Can I, when you are angry

Follow me!

Let us not place too great a faith in men.
These Tertskys-we will still be grateful to them
For every kindness, but not trust them further
Than they deserve;-and in all else rely-
On our own hearts!

MAX.

O! shall we e'er be happy?

follows him with her eyes at first, walks rest

COUNTESS.

lessly across the room, then stops, and remains I mean, niece, that you should not have forgotten standing, lost in thought. A guitar lies on the Who you are, and who he is. But perchance table, she seizes it as by a sudden emotion, and That never once occurr❜d to you.

after she has played a while 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.*

THEKLA (spielt und singt).

Der Eichwald brauset, die Wolken ziehn,
Das Mægdlein wandelt an Ufers Grün,

Es bricht sich die Welle mit Macht, mit Macht,
Und sie singt hinaus in die finstre Nacht,
Das Auge von Weinen getrübet.

Das Herz ist gestorben, die Welt ist leer,
Und weiter giebt sie dem Wunsche nichts mehr.
Du Heilige, rufe dein Kind zurück,
Ich habe genossen das irdische Glück,
Ich habe gelebt und geleibet.

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 discolored 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 Mar

garet" has favored me, and which appears to me to have caught

the happiest manner of our old ballads.

The clouds are blackening, the storms threat'ning,
The cavern doth mutter, the greenwood moan;
Billows are breaking, the damsel's heart aching,
Thus in the dark night she singeth alone,
Her eye upward roving:

The world is empty, the heart is dead surely,
In this world plainly all seemeth amiss;

To thy heaven, Holy One, take home thy little one.
I have partaken of all earth's bliss,

Both living and loving.

Are you dreaming? Talking in sleep? An excellent jest, forsooth! We shall no doubt right courteously entreat him To honor with his hand the richest heiress In Europe.

THEKLA.

That will not be necessary.

COUNTESS.

Methinks 't were well though not to run the hazard

THEKLA.

His father loves him: Count Octavio Will interpose no difficulty

COUNTESS.

His!

His father! His! but yours, niece, what of yours?

THEKLA.

Why I begin to think you fear his father,
So anxiously you hide it from the man!
His father, his, I mean.

COUNTESS (looks at her as scrutinizing).
Niece, you are false.

THEKLA.

Are you then wounded? O, be friends with me!

COUNTESS.

You hold your game for won already. Do not
Triumph too soon!—

THEKLA (interrupting her, and attempting to soothe her).

Nay, now, be friends with me

COUNTESS.

It is not yet so far gone.

THEKLA

I believe you.

COUNTESS.

Did you suppose your father had laid out
His most important life in toils of war,
Denied himself each quiet earthly bliss,
Had banish'd slumber from his tent, devoted
His noble head to care, and for this only,
To make a happier pair of you? At length
To draw you from your convent, and conduct
In easy triumph to your arms the man
That chanced to please your eyes! All this, methinks
He might have purchased at a cheaper rate.

THEKLA.

That which he did not plant for me might yet
Bear me fair fruitage of its own accord.
And if my friendly and affectionate fate,

Out of his fearful and enormous being, Will but prepare the joys of life for me

COUNTESS.

Thou see'st it with a lovelorn maiden's eyes.
Cast thine eye round, bethink thee who thou art.
Into no house of joyance hast thou stepp'd,
For no espousals dost thou find the walls
Deck'd out, no guests the nuptial garland wearing.
Here is no splendor but of arms. Or think'st thou
That all these thousands are here congregated
To lead up the long dances at thy wedding!
Thou see'st thy father's forehead full of thought,
Thy mother's eye in tears: upon the balance
Lies the great destiny of all our house.
Leave now the puny wish, the girlish feeling,
O thrust it far behind thee! Give thou proof,
Thou'rt the daughter of the Mighty-his
Who where he moves creates the wonderful.
Not to herself the woman must belong,
Annex'd and bound to alien destinies:
But she performs the best part, she the wisest,
Who can transmute the alien into self,
Meet and disarm necessity by choice;
And what must be, take freely to her heart,
And bear and foster it with mother's love.
THEKLA.

Such ever was my lesson in the convent.
I had no loves, no wishes, knew myself
Only as his-his daughter, his, the Mighty!
His fame, the echo of whose blast drove to me
From the far distance, waken'd in my soul
No other thought than this-I am appointed
To offer up myself in passiveness to him.

Unknown to me: 'tis possible his aims
May have the same direction as thy wish.
But this can never, never be his will
That thou, the daughter of his haughty fortunes
Should'st e'er demean thee as a love-sick maiden;
And like some poor cost-nothing, fling thyself
Toward the man, who, if that high prize ever
Be destined to await him, yet, with sacrifices
The highest love can bring, must pay for it.

[Exit COUNTESS. THEKLA (who during the last speech had been standing evidently lost in her reflections).

I thank thee for the hint. It turns

My sad presentiment to certainty.

And it is so!-Not one friend have we here,
Not one true heart! we've nothing but ourselves!
O she said rightly-no auspicious signs
Beam on this covenant of our affections.
This is no theatre, where hope abides:
The dull thick noise of war alone stirs here;
And Love himself, as he were arm'd in steel,
Steps forth, and girds him for the strife of death.
[Music from the banquet-room is heard.
There's a dark spirit walking in our house,
And swiftly will the Destiny close on us.
It drove me hither from my calm asylum,
It mocks my soul with charming witchery,
It lures me forward in a seraph's shape;
I see it near, I see it nearer floating,

It draws, it pulls me with a godlike power-
And lo! the abyss-and thither am I moving-
I have no power within me not to move!

[The music from the banquet-room becomes louder O when a house is doom'd in fire to perish, Many and dark, heaven drives his clouds together, Yea, shoots his lightnings down from sunny heights, Flames burst from out the subterraneous chasms, *And fiends and angels mingling in their fury, Sling fire-brands at the burning edifice.

SCENE VIII

[Exit THEKLA

A large Saloon lighted up with festal Splendor; in the midst of it, and in the Centre of the Stage, a Table richly set out, at which eight Generals are sitting, among whom are OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, TERTSKY, and MARADAS. Right and left of this, but farther back, two other Tables, at each of which six Persons are placed. The Middle Door, which is standing open, gives to the Prospect a fourth Table, with the same Number of Persons. More forward stands the Sideboard. The whole front of the Stage is kept open for the Pages and Servants in waiting. All is in motion. The Band of Music belonging to TERTSKY'S Regiment march across the Stage, and draw up round the Tables. Before they are quite off from the Front of the Stage, MAX PICCOLOMINI appears, TERTSKY advances toward's

There are few, who will not have taste enough to laugh at the two concluding lines of this soliloquy; and still fewer, I would fain hope, who would not have been more disposed to shudder, had I given a faithful translation. For the readers of German I have added the origina..

Blind-wüthend schleudert selbst der Gott der Freude
Den Pechkranz in das brennende Gebaude.

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圖書

The Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Prose and Verse