The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Poems, Plays, Essays, Lectures, Autobiography & Personal Letters (Illustrated). Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Too well I know we have still accounts to settle.

      Illo. War is a violent trade; one cannot always

       Finish one’s work by soft means; every trifle

       Must not be blackened into sacrilege. 110

       If we should wait till you, in solemn council,

       With due deliberation had selected

       The smallest out of four-and-twenty evils,

       I’faith, we should wait long. —

       ‘Dash! and through with it!’ — That’s the better watchword. 115

       Then after come what may come. ‘Tis man’s nature

       To make the best of a bad thing once past.

       A bitter and perplexed ‘what shall I do?’

       Is worse to man than worst necessity.

      Questenberg. Ay, doubtless, it is true: the Duke does spare us 120

       The troublesome task of choosing.

      Butler. Yes, the Duke

       Cares with a father’s feelings for his troops;

       But how the Emperor feels for us, we see.

      Questenberg. His cares and feelings all ranks share alike,

       Nor will he offer one up to another. 125

      Isolani. And therefore thrusts he us into the deserts

       As beasts of prey, that so he may preserve

       His dear sheep fattening in his fields at home.

      Questenberg. Count, this comparison you make, not I.

      Butler. Why, were we all the Court supposes us, 130

       ‘Twere dangerous, sure, to give us liberty.

      Questenberg. You have taken liberty — it was not given you.

       And therefore it becomes an urgent duty

       To rein it in with curbs.

      Octavio. My noble friend,

       This is no more than a remembrancing 135

       That you are now in camp, and among warriors.

       The soldier’s boldness constitutes his freedom.

       Could he act daringly, unless he dared

       Talk even so? One runs into the other.

       The boldness of this worthy officer, [pointing to BUTLER. 140

       Which now has but mistaken in its mark,

       Preserved, when nought but boldness could preserve it,

       To the Emperor his capital city, Prague,

       In a most formidable mutiny

       Of the whole garrison. [Military music at a distance. 145

       Hah! here they come!

      Illo. The sentries are saluting them: this signal

       Announces the arrival of the Duchess.

      Octavio. Then my son Max too has returned. ‘Twas he

       Fetched and attended them from Carnthen hither. 150

      Isolani (to Illo). Shall we not go in company to greet them?

      Illo. Well, let us go. — Ho! Colonel Butler, come.

      [To OCTAVIO.

      You’ll not forget, that yet ere noon we meet

       The noble Envoy at the General’s palace.

      [Exeunt all but QUESTENBERG and OCTAVIO.

       Table of Contents

      QUESTENBERG and OCTAVIO.

      Questenberg. What have I not been forced to hear, Octavio!

       What sentiments! what fierce, uncurbed defiance!

       And were this spirit universal —

      Octavio. Hm!

       You are now acquainted with three-fourths of the army.

      Questenberg. Where must we seek then for a second host 5

       To have the custody of this? That Illo

       Thinks worse, I fear me, than he speaks. And then

       This Butler too — he cannot even conceal

       The passionate workings of his ill intentions.

      Octavio. Quickness of temper — irritated pride; 10

       ‘Twas nothing more. I cannot give up Butler.

       I know a spell that will soon dispossess

       The evil spirit in him.

      Questenberg. Friend, friend!

       O! this is worse, far worse, than we had suffered

       Ourselves to dream of at Vienna. There 15

       We saw it only with a courtier’s eyes,

       Eyes dazzled by the splendour of the throne.

       We had not seen the War-Chief, the Commander,

       The man all-powerful in his camp. Here, here,

       ‘Tis quite another thing. 20

       Here is no Emperor more — the Duke is Emperor.

       Alas, my friend! alas, my noble friend!

       This walk which you have ta’en me through the camp

       Strikes my hopes prostrate.

      Octavio. Now you see yourself

       Of what a perilous kind the office is, 25

       Which you deliver to me from the Court.

       The least suspicion of the General

       Costs me my freedom and my life, and would

       But hasten his most desperate enterprise.

      Questenberg. Where was our reason sleeping when we trusted 30

       This madman with the sword, and placed such power

       In such a hand? I tell you, he’ll refuse,

       Flatly refuse, to obey the Imperial orders.

       Friend, he can do ‘t, and what he can, he will.

       And then the impunity of his defiance — 35

       O! what a proclamation of our weakness!

      Octavio. D’ye think too, he has brought his wife and daughter

       Without a purpose hither? Here in camp!

       And at the very point of time, in which

       We’re arming for the war? That he has taken 40

       These, the last pledges of his loyalty,

       Away from out the Emperor’s domains —

       This is no doubtful token of the nearness

       Of some eruption!

      Questenberg. How shall we hold footing

       Beneath this tempest, which collects itself 45

       And threats us from all quarters? The enemy

       Of the empire on our borders, now already

       The master of the Danube, and still farther,

       And farther still, extending every hour!

       In our interior the alarum-bells 50

       Of insurrection — peasantry in arms ——

       All orders discontented — and the army,