The Works of Frederick Schiller - BestLightNovel.com
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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 stationed 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 [9] (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 warped; I stand beside him, and must feel myself The worst 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.
WALLENSTEIN.
How knew she it so soon?
COUNTESS.
She seems to have Foreboded some misfortune. The report Of an engagement, in which had fallen A colonel of the imperial army, frightened 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, hastened 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, cheerly, 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 uttered That word of misery.
d.u.c.h.eSS.
Oh, think not of it!
My Thekla!
WALLENSTEIN.
Give her sorrow leave to talk!
Let her complain--mingle your tears with hers, For she hath suffered a deep anguish; but She'll rise superior to it, for my Thekla Hath all her father's unsubdued heart.
THEKLA.
I am not ill. See, I have power to stand.
Why does my mother weep? Have I alarmed her?
It is gone by--I recollect myself.
[She casts her eyes round the room, as seeking some one.
Where is he? Please you, do not hide him from me.
You see I have strength enough: now I will hear him.
d.u.c.h.eSS.
No; never shall this messenger of evil Enter again into thy presence, Thekla!
THEKLA.
My father----
WALLENSTEIN.
Dearest daughter!
THEKLA.
I'm not weak.
Shortly I shall be quite myself again.
You'll grant me one request?
WALLENSTEIN.
Name it, my daughter.
THEKLA.
Permit the stranger to be called to me, And grant me leave, that by myself I may Hear his report and question him.
d.u.c.h.eSS.
No, never!
