The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 06: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. in Twenty Volumes
General
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 06: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. in Twenty Volumes
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
RACHEL. I've never loved. But I could love, if e'er
In any breast _that_ madness I should find
Which could enthrall me, were my own heart touched.
Till then I follow custom's empty show,
Traditional in love's idolatry,
As in the fanes of stranger-creeds one kneels.
KING (_who meanwhile has been pacing up and down, now stands in the
foreground at the left and speaks in an aside to a servant_).
Bring me my arms, and full accoutrements,
And wait for me beside the garden-house.
I will to camp where they have need of me.
[_Exit servant._]
RACHEL. I beg you, see your King! He thinks he loves;
Yet when I speak to you and press your hand,
He worries not. With good economy,
He fills his garish day with business,
And posts his ledger, satisfied, at ev'n.
Out on you! You are all alike--you, too.
O were my sister here! She's wise--than I
Far cleverer! Yet, too, when in her breast
The spark of will and resolution falls,
She flashes out in flames, like unto mine.
Were she a man, she'd be a hero. Ye
Before her courage and her gaze should flinch.
Now let me sleep until she comes, for I
Myself am but the dreaming of a night.
[_She lays her head on her arm and her arm on her pillows._]
GARCERAN (_steps to the_ KING _who stands watching the reclining
RACHEL_).
Most noble Sire--
KING (_still gazing_). Well?
GARCERAN. May I now go back
Once more unto the army and the camp?
KING (_as above_).
The army left the camp? Pray tell me why.
GARCERAN. You hear me not--myself, _I_ wish to go.
KING. And there you'll talk, with innuendo, prate--
GARCERAN. Of what?
KING. Of me, of that which here took place.
GARCERAN. For that I'd need to understand it more.
KING. I see! Believest thou in sorcery?
GARCERAN. Since recently I almost do, my lord!
KING. And why is it but recently, I pray?
GARCERAN. Respect, I thought the wonted mate of love;
But love together with contempt, my lord--
KING. "Contempt" were far too hard a word; perhaps
An "unregard"--yet, nathless--marvelous!
GARCERAN. In sooth, the marvel is a little old,
For it began that day in Paradise
When God from Adam's rib created Eve.
KING. And yet he closed the breast when it was done,
And placed the will to guard the entering in.
Thou may'st to camp, but not alone:--with me.
RACHEL (_sitting up_).
The sun is creeping into my retreat.
Who props for me the curtain on yon side?
(_Looking off stage at the right._)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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