Coun. Did you suppose your father had laid out
His most important life in toils of war,
Denied himself each quiet earthly bliss,

Had banished slumber from his tent, devoted
His noble head to care, and for this only,
To make a happy pair of you? At length
To draw you from your convent, and conduct
In easy triumph to your arms the man

That chanced to please your eyes! All this, methinks,

He might have purchased at a cheaper rate.
Thek. That which he did not plant for me might

yet

Bear me fair fruitage of its own accord.
And if my friendly and affectionate fate,
Out of his fearful and enormous being,
Will but prepare the joys of life for me—

Coun. Thou seest it with a lovelorn maiden's

eyes.

Cast thine eye round, bethink thee who thou art. Into no house of joyance hast thou stepped,

For no espousals dost thou find the walls

Decked out, no guests the nuptial garland wearing. Here is no splendour but of arms.

thou

Or think'st

That all these thousands are here congregated To lead up the long dances at thy wedding? Thou seest thy father's forehead full of thought, Thy mother's eye in tears: upon the balance Lies the great destiny of all our house.

Leave now the puny wish, the girlish feeling,
O thrust it far behind thee!

Give thou proof,

Thou'rt the daughter of the Mighty-his
Who where he moves creates the wonderful.
Not to herself the woman must belong,
Annexed and bound to alien destinies.

But she performs the best part, she the wisest,
Who can transmute the alien into self;
Meet and disarm necessity by choice,

And what must be, take freely to her heart,
And bear and foster it with mother's love.

Thek. Such ever was my lesson in the convent.
I had no loves, no wishes, knew myself
Only as his daughter-his, the Mighty!
His fame, the echo of whose blast drove to me
From the far distance, wakened in my soul
No other thought than this-I am appointed
To offer up myself in passiveness to him.
Coun. That is thy fate. Mould thou thy wishes

to it.

I and thy mother gave thee the example.

Thek. My fate hath shown me him, to whom behoves it

That I should offer up myself. In gladness
Him will I follow.

Coun.

Not thy fate hath shown him!

Thy heart, say rather-'twas thy heart, my child! Thek. Fate hath no voice but the heart's im

pulses.

I am all his! His present-his alone,

Is this new life, which lives in me. He hath
A right to his own creature. What was I
Ere his fair love infused a soul into me?

Coun. Thou wouldst oppose thy father then,
should he

Have otherwise determined with thy person?

[THEKLA remains silent. The COUNTESS continues. Thou mean'st to force him to thy liking?-Child, His name is Friedland.

Thek.

My name too is Friedland. He shall have found a genuine daughter in me. Coun. What? he has vanquished all impediment,

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.

child,

I will not frighten thee. To that extreme,
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

Dear

That thou, the daughter of his haughty fortunes,
Should'st e'er demean thee as a lovesick 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.

Thek. [who during the last speech had been lost in her reflections.] 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 our

selves!

O she said rightly-no auspicious signs
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.
[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,
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, 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 firebrands at the burning edifice.

[Exit THEKLA.

SCENE VIII.-A large Saloon lighted up with festal splendour; in the midst of it, and in the centre of the Stage, a Table richly set out, at which eight Generals are sitting, among whom are OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, TERTSKY, and MARADAS. Right and left of this, but farther back, two other Tables, at each of which six Persons are placed. The Middle Door, which is standing open, gives to the Prospect a fourth Table, with the same number of Persons. More forward stands the Sideboard. The whole front of the Stage is kept open for the Pages and Servants in waiting. All is in motion. The band of Music belonging to TERTSKY'S Regiment march across the Stage, and draw up round the Tables. Before they are quite off from the Front of the Stage, MAX PICCOLOMINI appears, TERTSKY advances towards him with a Paper, ISOLANI comes up to meet him with a Beaker or Serviceсир.

TERTSKY, ISOLANI, MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Iso. Here, brother, what we love! Why, where hast been?

Off to thy place-quick! Tertsky here has given The mother's holiday wine up to free booty.

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, bad 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.