The Complete Works: Poetry, Plays, Letters and Extensive Biographies. John Keats. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: John Keats
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said, Sir Albert.

      Gersa.

      Not a word of greeting.

      No welcome to a princely visitor,

      Most mighty Otho? Will not my great host

      Vouchsafe a syllable, before he bids

      His gentlemen conduct me with all care

      To some securest lodgings? cold perhaps!

      Otho.

      What mood is this? Hath fortune touch’d thy brain?

      Gersa.

      kings and princes of this fev’rous world,

      What abject things, what mockeries must ye be,

      What nerveless minions of safe palaces!

      When here, a monarch, whose proud foot is used

      To fallen princes’ necks, as to his stirrup,

      Must needs exclaim that I am mad forsooth,

      Because I cannot flatter with bent knees

      My conqueror!

      Otho.

      Gersa, I think you wrong me:

      I think I have a better fame abroad.

      Gersa.

      I prythee mock me not with gentle speech,

      But, as a favour, bid me from thy presence;

      Let me no longer be the wondering food

      Of all these eyes; prythee command me hence!

      Otho.

      Do not mistake me, Gersa. That you may not,

      Come, fair Auranthe, try if your soft hands

      Can manage those hard rivets to set free

      So brave a prince and soldier.

      Auranthe (sets him free). Welcome task!

      Gersa.

      I am wound up in deep astonishment!

      Thank you, fair lady. Otho! emperor!

      You rob me of myself; my dignity

      Is now your infant; I am a weak child.

      Otho.

      Give me your hand, and let this kindly grasp

      Live in our memories.

      Gersa.

      In mine it will.

      I blush to think of my unchasten’d tongue;

      But I was haunted by the monstrous ghost

      Of all our slain battalions. Sire, reflect,

      And pardon you will grant, that, at this hour,

      The bruised remnants of our stricken camp

      Are huddling undistinguish’d my dear friends,

      With common thousands, into shallow graves.

      Otho.

      Enough, most noble Gersa. You are free

      To cheer the brave remainder of your host

      By your own healing presence, and that too,

      Not as their leader merely, but their king;

      For, as I hear, the wily enemy,

      Who eas’d the crownet from your infant brows,

      Bloody Taraxa, is among the dead.

      Gersa.

      Then I retire, so generous Otho please,

      Bearing with me a weight of benefits

      Too heavy to be borne.

      Otho.

      It is not so;

      Still understand me, King of Hungary,

      Nor judge my open purposes awry.

      Though I did hold you high in my esteem

      For your self’s sake, I do not personate

      The stage-play emperor to entrap applause,

      To set the silly sort o’ the world agape,

      And make the politic smile; no, I have heard

      How in the Council you condemn ‘d this war,

      Urging the perfidy of broken faith,

      For that I am your friend.

      Gersa.

      If ever, sire,

      You are mine enemy, I dare here swear

      ‘Twill not be Gersa’s fault. Otho, farewell!

      Otho.

      Will you return, Prince, to our banqueting?

      Gersa.

      As to my father’s board I will return.

      Otho.

      Conrad, with all due ceremony, give

      The prince a regal escort to his camp;

      Albert, go thou and bear him company.

      Gersa, farewell!

      Gersa.

      All happiness attend you!

      Otho.

      Return with what good speed you may; for soon

      We must consult upon our terms of peace.

[Exeunt GERSA and ALBERT with others

      And thus a marble column do I build

      To prop my empire’s dome. Conrad, in thee

      I have another stedfast one, to uphold

      The portals of my state; and, for my own

      Pre-eminence and safety, I will strive

      To keep thy strength upon its pedestal.

      For, without thee, this day I might have been

      A show-monster about the streets of Prague,

      In chains, as just now stood that noble prince:

      And then to me no mercy had been shown,

      For when the conquered lion is once dungeon’d,

      Who lets him forth again? or dares to give

      An old lion sugar-cates of mild reprieve?

      Not to thine ear alone I make confession,

      But to all here, as, by experience,

      I know how the great basement of all power

      Is frankness, and a true tongue to the world;

      And how intriguing secrecy is proof

      Of fear and weakness, and a hollow state.

      Conrad, I owe thee much.

      Conrad.

      To kiss that hand,

      My emperor, is ample recompense,

      For a mere act of duty.

      Otho.

      Thou art wrong;

      For what can any man on earth do more?

      We will make trial of