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

Автор: John Keats
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linger not make no resistance sweet

      Will you Ah wretch, thou canst not, for I have

      The strength of twenty lions ‘gainst a lamb

      Now one adieu for Albert come away.

      [Exeunt.

      Scene III

An inner Court of the CastleEnter SIGIFRED, GONFRED, and THEODORE meeting

      Theodore.

      Was ever such a night?

      Sigifred.

      What horrors more?

      Things unbeliev’d one hour, so strange they are,

      The next hour stamps with credit.

      Theodore.

      Your last news ?

      Gonfred.

      After the Page’s story of the death

      Of Albert and Duke Conrad?

      Sigifred.

      And the return

      Of Ludolph with the Princess.

      Gonfred.

      No more save

      Prince Gersa’s freeing Abbot Ethelbert,

      And the sweet lady, fair Erminia,

      From prison.

      Theodore.

      Where are they now? hast yet heard?

      Gonfred.

      With the sad Emperor they are closeted ;

      I saw the three pass slowly up the stairs,

      The lady weeping, the old Abbot cowl’d.

      Sigifred.

      What next?

      Thedore.

      I ache to think on’t.

      Gonfred.

      ’Tis with fate.

      Theodore.

      One while these proud towers are hush’d as death.

      Gonfred.

      The next our poor Prince fills the arched rooms

      With ghastly ravings.

      Sigifred.

      I do fear his brain.

      Gonfred.

      I will see more. Bear you so stout a heart?

      [Exeunt into the Castle.

      Scene IV

A Cabinet, opening towards a TerraceOTHO, ERMINIA, ETHELBERT, and a Physician, discovered

      Otho.

      O, my poor Boy! my Son! my Son! My Ludolph!

      Have ye no comfort for me, ye Physicians

      Of the weak Body and Soul?

      Ethelbert.

      ’Tis not the Medicine

      Either of heaven or earth can cure unless

      Fit time be chosen to administer

      Otho. A kind forbearance, holy Abbot come

      Erminia, here sit by me, gentle Girl;

      Give me thy hand hast thou forgiven me?

      Erminia.

      Would I were with the saints to pray for you!

      Otho. Why will ye keep me from my darling child?

      Physician.

      Forgive me, but he must not see thy face

      Otho. Is then a father’s countenance a Gorgon?

      Hath it not comfort in it? Would it not

      Console my poor Boy, cheer him, heal his spirits?

      Let me embrace him, let me speak to him

      I will who hinders me? Who’s Emperor?

      Physician.

      You may not, Sire ’twould overwhelm him quite,

      He is so full of grief and passionate wrath,

      Too heavy a sigh would kill him or do worse.

      He must be sav’d by fine contrivances

      And most especially we must keep clear

      Out of his sight a Father whom he loves

      His heart is full, it can contain no more,

      And do its ruddy office.

      Ethelbert.

      Sage advice;

      We must endeavour how to ease and slacken

      The tight-wound energies of his despair,

      Not make them tenser

      Otho. Enough! I hear, I hear.

      Yet you were about to advise more I listen.

      Ethelbert.

      This learned doctor will agree with me,

      That not in the smallest point should he be thwarted

      Or gainsaid by one word his very motions,

      Nods, becks and hints, should be obey’d with care,

      Even on the moment: so his troubled mind

      May cure itself

      Physician. There is no other means.

      Otho.

      Open the door: let’s hear if all is quiet

      Physician. Beseech you, Sire, forbear.

      Erminia.

      Do, do.

      Otho.

      I command!

      Open it straight hush! quiet my lost Boy!

      My miserable Child!

      Ludolph (indistinctly without). Fill, fill my goblet,

      Here’s a health!

      Erminia.

      O, close the door!

      Otho.

      Let, let me hear his voice; this cannot last

      And fain would I catch up his dying words

      Though my own knell they be this cannot last

      O let me catch his voice for lo! I hear

      This silence whisper me that he is dead!

      It is so. Gersa?

Enter GERSA

      Physician.

      Say, how fares the prince?

      Gersa.

      More calm his features are less wild and flushed

      Once he complain’d