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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The colours are unfurled, the cavalcade

       Marshals, and now the buzz is hushed, and hark!

       Now the soft peace-march beats, home, brothers, home!

       The caps and helmets are all garlanded 145

       With green boughs, the last plundering of the fields.

       The city gates fly open of themselves,

       They need no longer the petard to tear them.

       The ramparts are all filled with men and women,

       With peaceful men and women, that send onwards 150

       Kisses and welcomings upon the air,

       Which they make breezy with affectionate gestures.

       From all the towers rings out the merry peal,

       The joyous vespers of a bloody day.

       O happy man, O fortunate! for whom 155

       The well-known door, the faithful arms are open,

       The faithful tender arms with mute embracing.

      Questenberg. O! that you should speak

       Of such a distant, distant time, and not

       Of the tomorrow, not of this to-day. 160

      Max. Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna?

       I will deal openly with you, Questenberg.

       Just now, as first I saw you standing here,

       (I’ll own it to you freely) indignation

       Crowded and pressed my inmost soul together. 165

       ‘Tis ye that hinder peace, ye! — and the warrior,

       It is the warrior that must force it from you.

       Ye fret the General’s life out, blacken him,

       Hold him up as a rebel, and Heaven knows

       What else still worse, because he spares the Saxons, 170

       And tries to awaken confidence in the enemy;

       Which yet ‘s the only way to peace: for if

       War intermit not during war, how then

       And whence can peace come? — Your own plagues fall on you!

       Even as I love what’s virtuous, hate I you. 175

       And here make I this vow, here pledge myself;

       My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein,

       And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere ye

       Shall revel and dance jubilee o’er his ruin. [Exit.

       Table of Contents

      QUESTENBERG, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI.

      Questenberg. Alas, alas! and stands it so?

       What, friend! and do we let him go away

       In this delusion — let him go away?

       Not call him back immediately, not open

       His eyes upon the spot?

      Octavio. He has now opened mine, 5

       And I see more than pleases me.

      Questenberg. What is it?

      Octavio. Curse on this journey!

      Questenberg. But why so? What is it?

      Octavio. Come, come along, friend! I must follow up

       The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes

       Are opened now, and I must use them. Come! 10

      [Draws QUESTENBERG on with him.

      Questenberg. What now? Where go you then?

      Octavio. To her herself.

      Questenberg. To ——

      Octavio. To the Duke. Come, let us go—’Tis done, ‘tis done,

       I see the net that is thrown over him.

       O! he returns not to me as he went.

      Questenberg. Nay, but explain yourself.

      Octavio. And that I should not 15

       Foresee it, not prevent this journey! Wherefore

       Did I keep it from him? — You were in the right.

       I should have warned him! Now it is too late.

      Questenberg. But what’s too late? Bethink yourself, my friend,

       That you are talking absolute riddles to me. 20

      Octavio. Come! — to the Duke’s. ‘Tis close upon the hour

       Which he appointed you for audience. Come!

       A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey!

      [He leads QUESTENBERG off.

      [After 1] [Then in pressing and impatient tones. 1800, 1828, 1829.

       1829.

      [Before 12] Octavio (interrupting him, and correcting himself). 1800,

       1828, 1829.

      [Before 21] Octavio (more collected). 1800, 1828, 1829.

       Table of Contents

      Changes to a spacious chamber in the house of the Duke of

       Friedland. — Servants employed in putting the tables and chairs in

       order. During this enters SENI, like an old Italian doctor, in black,

       and clothed somewhat fantastically. He carries a white staff, with which

       he marks out the quarters of the heaven.

      First Servant. Come — to it, lads, to it! Make an end of it.

       I hear the sentry call out, ‘Stand to your arms!’ They will

       be there in a minute.

      Second Servant. Why were we not told before that the

       audience would be held here? Nothing prepared — no orders — no 5

       instructions —

      Third Servant. Ay, and why was the balcony-chamber

       countermanded, that with the great worked carpet? — there one can

       look about one.

      First Servant. Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. 10

       He says it is an unlucky chamber.

      Second Servant. Poh! stuff and nonsense! That’s what I call

       a hum. A chamber is a chamber; what much can the place

       signify in the affair?

      Seni. My son, there’s nothing insignificant, 15

       Nothing! But yet in every earthly thing

       First and most principal is place and time.

      First Servant (to the Second). Say nothing to him, Nat. The

       Duke himself must let him have his own will.

      Seni (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low voice, till

       he comes to eleven, which he repeats). Eleven! an evil number!

       Set twelve chairs. 20

       Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac: five and seven,

       The holy numbers, include