WALLENSTEIN.
13
COUNTESS.
'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother.
'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother.
WALLENSTEIN. (to the Countess, aside.)
Can she sustain the news? Is she prepar'd?
Can she sustain the news? Is she prepar'd?
COUNTESS.
Not yet.
Not yet.
WALLENSTEIN.
Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me.
For there is a good spirit on thy lips.
Thy mother prais'd to me thy ready skill:
She says a voice of melody dwells in thee,
Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice
Will drive away from me the evil dæmon
That beats his black wings close above my head.
Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me.
For there is a good spirit on thy lips.
Thy mother prais'd to me thy ready skill:
She says a voice of melody dwells in thee,
Which doth enchant the soul. Now such a voice
Will drive away from me the evil dæmon
That beats his black wings close above my head.
DUCHESS.
Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father
Hear some small trial of thy skill.
Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father
Hear some small trial of thy skill.
THEKLA.
My mother
I—
My mother
I—
DUCHESS.
Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer
Thy father.
Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer
Thy father.
THEKLA.
O my mother! I—I cannot.
O my mother! I—I cannot.
COUNTESS.
How, what is that, niece?
How, what is that, niece?
THEKLA (to the Countess.)
O spare me—sing—now—in this sore anxiety,
Of the o'erburden'd soul—to sing to him,
O spare me—sing—now—in this sore anxiety,
Of the o'erburden'd soul—to sing to him,
Who
