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

Автор: John Keats
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isbn: 9788026839675
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of folly! Ghost of a turn’d brain!

      You puzzle me, you haunt me, when I dream

      Of you my brain will split! Bald sorcerer!

      Juggler! May I come near you? On my soul

      I know not whether to pity, curse, or laugh.

      Enter ALBERT, and the Nobleman.

      Here, Albert, this old phantom wants a proof!

      Give him his proof! A camel’s load of proofs!

      Otho.

      Albert, I speak to you as to a man

      Whose words once utter ‘d pass like current gold;

      And therefore fit to calmly put a close

      To this brief tempest. Do you stand possess ‘d

      Of any proof against the honourableness

      Of Lady Auranthe, our new-spoused daughter?

      Albert.

      You chill me with astonishment. How’s this?

      My Liege, what proof should I have ‘gainst a fame

      Impossible of slur? [Otho rises.

      Erminia.

      O wickedness!

      Ethelbert.

      Deluded monarch, ’tis a cruel lie.

      Otho.

      Peace, rebel-priest!

      Conrad.

      Insult beyond credence!

      Erminia.

      Almost a dream!

      Ludolph.

      We have awaken’d from

      A foolish dream that from my brow hath wrung

      A wrathful dew. O folly! why did I

      So act the lion with this silly gnat?

      Let them depart. Lady Erminia!

      I ever griev’d for you, as who did not?

      But now you have, with such a brazen front,

      So most maliciously, so madly striven

      To dazzle the soft moon, when tenderest clouds

      Should be unloop’d around to curtain her;

      I leave you to the desert of the world

      Almost with pleasure. Let them be set free

      For me! I take no personal revenge

      More than against a nightmare, which a man

      forgets in the new dawn.

[Exit LUDOLPH

      Otho.

      Still in extremes! No, they must not be loose.

      Ethelbert.

      Albert, I must suspect thee of a crime

      So fiendish

      Otho. Fear’st thou not my fury, monk?

      Conrad, be they in your sure custody

      Till we determine some fit punishment.

      It is so mad a deed, I must reflect

      And question them in private ; for perhaps,

      By patient scrutiny, we may discover

      Whether they merit death, or should be placed

      In care of the physicians.

      [Exeunt OTHO and Nobles, ALBERT following.

      Conrad.

      My guards, ho!

      Erminia.

      Albert, wilt thou follow there?

      Wilt thou creep dastardly behind his back,

      And slink away from a weak woman’s eye?

      Turn, thou court-Janus! thou forget’st thyself;

      Here is the Duke, waiting with open arms,

      [Enter Guards.

      To thank thee; here congratulate each other;

      Wring hands; embrace; and swear how lucky ’twas

      That I, by happy chance, hit the right man

      Of all the world to trust in.

      Albert.

      Trust! to me!

      Conrad (aside). He is the sole one in this mystery.

      Erminia.

      Well, I give up, and save my prayers for Heaven!

      You, who could do this deed, would ne’er relent,

      Though, at my words, the hollow prison-vaults

      Would groan for pity.

      Conrad.

      Manacle them both!

      Ethelbert.

      I know it – it must be I see it all!

      Albert, thou art the minion!

      Erminia.

      Ah ! too plain

      Conrad. Silence! Gag up their mouths! I cannot bear

      More of this brawling. That the Emperor

      Had plac’d you in some other custody!

      Bring them away.

      [Exeunt all but ALBERT.

      Albert.

      Though my name perish from the book of honour,

      Almost before the recent ink is dry,

      And be no more remember’d after death,

      Than any drummer’s in the muster-roll;

      Yet shall I season high my sudden fall

      With triumph o’er that evil-witted duke!

      He shall feel what it is to have the hand

      Of a man drowning, on his hateful throat.

Enter GERSA and SIGIFRED

      Gersa.

      What discord is at ferment in this house?

      Sigifred.

      We are without conjecture; not a soul

      We met could answer any certainty.

      Gersa.

      Young Ludolph, like a fiery arrow, shot

      By us.

      Sigifred.

      The Emperor, with cross’d arms, in thought.

      Gersa.

      In one room music, in another sadness,

      Perplexity every where!

      Albert.

      A trifle more!

      Follow; your presences will much avail

      To tune our jarred spirits. I’ll explain. [Exeunt.

      Act IV

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