Leave they your wreath of love inviolate.
What Venus twin'd, the bearer of glad fortune,
The sullen orb of Mars soon tears to pieces.
MAX.
Blest be the General's zeal: into the laurel
Will he inweave the olive-branch, presenting
Peace to the shouting nations. Then no wish
Will have remain'd for his great heart! Enough
Has he perform'd for glory, and can now
Live for himself and his. To his domains
Will he retire; he has a stately seat
Of fairest view at Gitschin; Reichenberg,
And Friedland Castle, both lie pleasantly—
Even to the foot of the huge mountains here
Stretches the chase and covers of his forests:
His ruling passion, to create the splendid,
He can indulge without restraint; can give
A princely patronage to every art,
And to all worth a Sovereign's protection.
Can build, can plant, can watch the starry courses—
COUNTESS.
Before you lay aside your arms, young friend!
A gentle bride, as she is, is well worth it
That you should woo and win her with the sword.
MAX.
COUNTESS.
Did you hear nothing? Seem'd, as if I heard
Tumult and larum in the banquet-room.
[Exit Countess.
