_Countess._ What? he has vanquished all impediment, 90 And in the wilful mood of his own daughter Shall a new struggle rise for him? Child! child! As yet thou hast seen thy father's smiles alone; The eye of his rage thou hast not seen. Dear child, I will not frighten thee. To that extreme, 95 I trust, it ne'er shall come. His will is yet Unknown to me: 'tis possible his aims May have the same direction as thy wish. But this can never, never be his will, That thou, the daughter of his haughty fortunes, 100 Should'st e'er demean thee as a love-sick maiden; And like some poor cost-nothing, fling thyself Toward the man, who, if that high prize ever Be destined to await him, yet, with sacrifices The highest love can bring, must pay for it. [_Exit COUNTESS._ 105 _Thekla._ I thank thee for the hint. It turns My sad presentiment to certainty. And it is so!--Not one friend have we here, Not one true heart! we've nothing but ourselves! O she said rightly--no auspicious signs 110 Beam on this covenant of our affections. This is no theatre, where hope abides. The dull thick noise of war alone stirs here. And love himself, as he were armed in steel, Steps forth, and girds him for the strife of death. 115 [_Music from the banquet-room is heard._ There's a dark spirit walking in our house, And swiftly will the Destiny close on us. It drove me hither from my calm asylum, It mocks my soul with charming witchery, It lures me forward in a seraph's shape, 120 I see it near, I see it nearer floating, It draws, it pulls me with a god-like power-- And lo! the abyss--and thither am I moving-- I have no power within me not to move! [_The music from the banquet-room becomes louder._ O when a house is doomed in fire to perish, 125 Many a dark heaven drives his clouds together, Yea, shoots his lightnings down from sunny heights, Flames burst from out the subterraneous chasms, And fiends and angels mingling in their fury, Sling fire-brands at the burning edifice.[658:1] 130 [_Exit THEKLA._ FOOTNOTES: [655:1] A noble speech, and with the additional excellence of being in character. _MS. R_. [658:1] There are few, who will not have taste enough to laugh at the two concluding lines of this soliloquy; and still fewer, I would fain hope, who would not have been more disposed to shudder, had I given a _faithful_ translation. For the readers of German I have added the original: Blind-wüthend schleudert selbst der Gott der Freude Den Pechkranz in das brennende Gebäude.[658:A]