WALLENSTEIN.
We in the field here gave our cares and toils
To make her great, and fight her a free way
To the loftiest earthly good; lo! mother Nature
Within the peaceful silent convent walls
Has done her part, and out of her free grace
Hath she bestowed on the beloved child
The godlike; and now leads her thus adorned
To meet her splendid fortune, and my hope.
DUCHESS. (to Thekla)
Would'st thou, my child? She counted scarce eight years,
When last she saw your face.
THEKLA.
At the first glance!—My father has not alter'd.
The form, that stands before me, falsifies
No feature of the image that hath liv'd
So long within me!
WALLENSTEIN.
(then after a pause)
I was indignant at my destiny
That it denied me a man-child to be
Heir of my name and of my prosperous fortune,
And re-illume my soon extinguish'd being
In a proud line of princes.
I wrong'd my destiny. Here upon this head
So lovely in its maiden bloom will I
Let
