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
[Down the stairs come a fluting dwarf and an
effeminate-looking slave playing a lute,
preceded by others with lights; then SHALNASSAR,
leaning on GUeLISTANE; finally a eunuch with
a whip stuck in his belt. GUeLISTANE frees herself
and comes forward, seeming to search the floor for
something; the others come forward also. The music
ceases.]
GUeLISTANE (over her shoulder, to SHALNASSAR).
I miss a tiny jar, of swarthy onyx
And filled with ointment. Art thou ling'ring still,
Thou Bachtjar's daughter? Bend thy lazy back
And try to find it.
[SOBEIDE is silent, looking at GANEM.]
SHALNASS.
Let it be and come!
I'll give thee hundreds more.
GUeLISTANE.
It was a secret,
The ointment in it.
GANEM (close to GUeLISTANE).
What means this procession?
SHALNASS.
Come on, why not? The aged cannot wait.
And ye, advance! Bear lights and make an uproar!
Be drunken: what has night to do with sleep!
Advance up to the door, then stay behind!
[The slaves form in order again.]
GANEM (furious).
Door, door? What door?
SHALNASS. (to GUeLISTANE, who leans against him).
Say, shall I give an answer?
If so, I'll do 't to flatter thee. If not,
'Twill be to show thee that my happiness
Requireth not old envy's flattery.
GANEM (to GUeLISTANE).
Say no, say he is lying!
GUeLISTANE.
Go, good Ganem,
And let us pass. Thy father is recovered,
And we are glad of it. Why stand so gloomy?
One must be merry with the living, eh,
While yet they live? [She looks into his eyes.]
GANEM (snatches the whip from the eunuch).
Old woman, for what purpose is this whip?
Now flee and scatter, crippled, halting folly!
[He strikes at the musicians and the lights,
then casts down the whip.]
Out, shameful lights, and thou, to bed with thee,
Puffed, swollen body; and ye bursting veins,
Ye reddened eyes, and thou putrescent mouth,
Off to a solitary bed, and night,
Dark, noiseless night instead of brazen torches
And blaring horns!
[He motions the old man out.]
SHALNASS. (bends with an effort to take the whip).
Mine is the whip, not thine!
SOBEIDE (cries out).
His father! Son and father for one woman!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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