MAX.
(He draws up to her, their eyes meet, she
stands silent a moment, then throws herself
into his arms; he presses her fast to his heart.)
COUNTESS.
Hark! What's that noise! It comes this way.—Off!
Max. tears himself away out of her arms and
goes. The Countess accompanies him.
Thekla follows him with her eyes at first,
walks restlessly across the room, then stops,
and remains standing, lost in thought. A
guitar lies on the table, she seizes it as by a
sudden emotion, and after she has played
a while an irregular and melancholy symphony,
she falls gradually into the music and sings.)
THEKLA. (plays and sings.)
The damsel paces along the shore;
The billows they tumble with might, with might;
And she flings out her voice to the darksome night,
Her bosom is swelling with sorrow;
The world it is empty, the heart will die,
There's nothing to wish for beneath the sky:
Thou Holy One, call thy child away!
I've lived and loved, and that was to-day
Make ready my grave-clothes to-morrow.[1]
- ↑ I found it not in my power to translate this song with literal fidelity, preserving at the same time the Alcaic Movement and
have
