The German Classics, v. 20: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English
General
The German Classics, v. 20: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
GUeLISTANE.
Some business?
SHALNASS (to her).
None,
But serving thee.
[He puts out his hand to close the clasp at
her neck, but fails.]
GUeLISTANE.
Forbear!
SHALNASS (puts his hand to his eye).
A little vein
Burst in my eye. I must behold thee dance,
To make the blood recede.
GUeLISTANE.
A strange idea.
SHALNASS.
Come, for my sake.
GUeLISTANE.
Why, then I must put up
My hair.
SHALNASS.
Then put it up. I cannot live
While thou delayest.
[GUeLISTANE goes up the stairs.]
(To the slave.)
Lead her here to me.
Say only this: the one she seeks awaits her.
Mark that: the one she seeks; no more.
[He walks up and down; exit slave.]
No being is so simple; no, I cannot
Believe there are such fools. Highwaymen, bosh!
He sent her here, and all that contradicts it
Is simply lies.
I little thought that she would come tonight,
But gold draws all this out of nothingness.
I'll keep her if she pleases me: her husband
Shall never see her face again. With fetters
Of linked gold I'll deck her pretty ankles.
I'll keep them both and make them both so tame
That they will swing like parrots in one ring.
[The slave leads SOBEIDE up the stairs. She is
agitated, her eyes staring, her hair disheveled,
the strings of pearls torn off. She no longer
wears her veil.]
SHALNASS.
O that my son might die for very wrath!
Well, well, and how she trembles and dissembles.
[He motions the slave out.]
SOBEIDE (looks at him fearfully).
Art thou Shalnassar?
SHALNASS.
Yes. And has thy husband--
SOBEIDE.
My husband? Knowst thou that? Why, did I not
Just now ... was it not just this very night?...
What?... or dost thou surmise?
SHALNASS.
Coquettish chatter
May do for youthful apes. But I am old,
And know the power that I have over you.
SOBEIDE.
That power thou hast, but thou wilt not employ it
To do me hurt.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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