At his own bidding, unsolicited, He came to offer you himself and regiment.
I find we must not give implicit credence To every warning voice that makes itself Be listen'd to in the heart. To hold us back, Oft does the lying Spirit counterfeit The voice of Truth and inward Revelation, Scattering false oracles. And thus have I To entreat forgiveness, for that secretly I've wrong'd this honorable, gallant man, This Butler: for a feeling, of the which I am not master (_fear_ I would not call it), Creeps o'er me instantly, with sense of shuddering At his approach, and stops love's joyous motion. And this same man, against whom I am warn'd, This honest man is he, who reaches to me The first pledge of my fortune.
And doubt not That his example will win over to you The best men in the army.
Go and send Isolani hither. Send him immediately; He is under recent obligations to me: With him will I commence the trial. Go.
WALLENSTEIN (_turns himself round to the females_).
Lo, there the mother with the darling daughter For once we'll have an interval of rest--Come! my heart yearns to live a cloudless hour In the beloved circle of my family.
'Tis long since we've been thus together, brother.
Can she sustain the news? Is she prepared?
Come here, my sweet girl! Seat thee by me. For there is a good spirit on thy lips. Thy mother praised 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 demon That beats his black wings close above my head.
Where is thy lute, my daughter? Let thy father Hear some small trial of thy skill.
Trembling? Come, collect thyself. Go, cheer father.
O spare me--sing--now--in this sore anxiety, Of the o'erburthen'd soul--to sing to _him_, Who is thrusting, even now, my mother headlong Into her grave.
How, Thekla! Humorsome! What! shall thy father have express'd a wish In vain?
[_The orchestra plays. During the ritornello_ THEKLA _expresses in her gestures and countenance the struggle of her feelings; and at the moment that she should begin to sing, contracts herself together, as one shuddering, throws the instrument down, and retires abruptly_.]
What ails the maiden? Say, is she often so?