WALLENSTEIN.
155
Rush forth thro' all its doors. I am the last
Therein; I shut it up, and here deliver
The keys.
Therein; I shut it up, and here deliver
The keys.
OCTAVIO. (with a deep anguish.)
O Countess! my house too is desolate.
O Countess! my house too is desolate.
COUNTESS.
Who next is to be murder'd? Who is next
To be maltreated? Lo! The Duke is dead.
The Emperor's vengeance may be pacified!
Spare the old servants; let not their fidelity
Be imputed to the faithful as a crime—
The evil destiny surpriz'd my brother
Too suddenly: he could not think on them.
Who next is to be murder'd? Who is next
To be maltreated? Lo! The Duke is dead.
The Emperor's vengeance may be pacified!
Spare the old servants; let not their fidelity
Be imputed to the faithful as a crime—
The evil destiny surpriz'd my brother
Too suddenly: he could not think on them.
OCTAVIO.
Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment!
The Emp'ror is appeas'd; the heavy fault
Hath heavily been expiated—nothing
Descended from the father to the daughter,
Except his glory and his services.
The Empress honours your adversity,
Takes part in your afflictions, opens to you
Her motherly arms! Therefore no farther fears!
Yield yourself up in hope and confidence
To the Imperial Grace!
Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of maltreatment!
The Emp'ror is appeas'd; the heavy fault
Hath heavily been expiated—nothing
Descended from the father to the daughter,
Except his glory and his services.
The Empress honours your adversity,
Takes part in your afflictions, opens to you
Her motherly arms! Therefore no farther fears!
Yield yourself up in hope and confidence
To the Imperial Grace!
COUNTESS.
(with her eye rais'd to heaven.)
To the grace and mercy of a greater Master
Do I yield up myself.—Where shall the body
Of the Duke have its place of final rest?
(with her eye rais'd to heaven.)
To the grace and mercy of a greater Master
Do I yield up myself.—Where shall the body
Of the Duke have its place of final rest?
In
