The Piccolomini, Or the First Part of Wallenstein, a Drama in Five Acts. Translated from the German of Frederick Schiller by S. T. Coleridge
T. N. Longman and O. Rees, 1800 - 214 sider
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The Piccolomini, Or the First Part of Wallenstein, a Drama in Five Acts ...
Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2016
againſt already arms army break bring BUTLER CELLAR comes command confidence CORNET Count COUNTESS deed Ditto doubt draw DUCHESS Duke duty Emperor enemy enters evil faithful fall father fear firſt follow force fortune Friedland give goes GOETZ hand haſt hath head hear heart heaven himſelf hither honour hope hour houſe ILLO ISOLANI itſelf keep laſt leave letter light live longer look Lord MASTER mean moſt muſt myſelf nature never night noble OCTAVIO once orders Piccolomini preſent purpoſe QUESTENBERG remain round ſay SCENE ſee SERVANT ſervice ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome ſon ſoul ſtand ſtars ſtep ſtill ſuch Swede tell TERTSKY thee THEKLA theſe thing thoſe thou thought thyſelf true truſt WALLENSTEIN whole wilt wiſh WRANGEL yourſelf
Side 21 - Then Well for the whole, if there be found a man Who makes himself what nature destined him, The pause, the central point, to thousand thousands • Stands fixed and stately, like a firm-built column, Where all may press with joy and confidence...
Side 82 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished. They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Side 82 - ... the faith of reason ! But still the heart doth need a language ; still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names, And to yon starry world they now are gone, Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth With man as with their friend ; and to the lover Yonder they move ; from yonder visible sky Shoot influence down ; and even at this day 'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great, And Venus who brings every thing that's fair.
Side 162 - Your grace is known to be a mighty war-chief, To be a second Attila, and Pyrrhus. Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment, How some years past, beyond all human faith, You called an army forth like a creation : But yet — WALLENSTEIN.
Side 177 - With slavish souls, with puppets ! At the approach Of extreme peril, when a hollow image Is found a hollow image and no more, Then falls the power into the mighty hands Of nature, of the spirit giant-born, Who listens only to himself...
Side 79 - So manifold the image of my fancy, And binds to life, binds to reality. What hitherto had but been present to me As a sweet dream ! MAX, Alas ! not so to me. It makes a dream of my reality. Upon some island in the ethereal heights I've lived for these last days. This mass of men Forces me down to earth. It is a bridge That, reconducting to my former life, Divides me and my heaven.
Side 187 - Much that is great and excellent will we Perform together yet. And if we only Stand on the height with dignity, 'tis soon Forgotten, Max, by what road we ascended. Believe me, many a crown shines spotless now, That yet was deeply sullied in the winning. To the evil spirit doth the earth belong, Not to the good. All, that the powers divine Send from above, are universal blessings : Their light rejoices us...
Side 81 - For fable is Love's world, his home, his birth-place: Delightedly dwells he 'mong fays and talismans, And spirits ; and delightedly believes Divinities, being himself divine.
Side 26 - With peaceful men and women, that send onwards Kisses and welcomings upon the air, Which they make breezy with affectionate gestures. From all the towers rings out the merry peal, The joyous vespers of a bloody day. 0 happy man, O fortunate ! for whom The well-known door, the faithful arms are open, The faithful tender arms with mute embracing.
Side 22 - Direct it flies and rapid, Shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it reaches. My son ! the road, the human being travels, That, on which BLESSING comes and goes, doth follow The river's course, the valley's playful windings, Curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines, Honouring the holy bounds of property ! And thus secure, though late, leads to its end.