The Piccolomini: A Play

SCENE V.

      THEKLA and MAX. PICCOLOMINI.

   THEKLA (as soon as the COUNTESS is out of sight, in a quick,
      low voice to PICCOLOMINI).
   Don't trust them! They are false!

   MAX.
                     Impossible!

   THEKLA.
   Trust no one here but me. I saw at once,
   They had a purpose.

   MAX.
              Purpose! but what purpose?
   And how can we be instrumental to it?

   THEKLA.
   I know no more than you; but yet believe me
   There's some design in this; to make us happy,
   To realize our union—trust me, love!
   They but pretend to wish it.

   MAX.
                  But these Terzkys—
   Why use we them at all? Why not your mother?
   Excellent creature! She deserves from us
   A full and filial confidence.

   THEKLA.
                   She doth love you,
   Doth rate you high before all others—but—
   But such a secret—she would never have
   The courage to conceal it from my father.
   For her own peace of mind we must preserve it
   A secret from her too.

   MAX.
               Why any secret?
   I love not secrets. Mark what I will do.
   I'll throw me at your father's feet—let him
   Decide upon my fortune! He is true,
   He wears no mask—he hates all crooked ways—
   He is so good, so noble!

   THEKLA. (falls on his neck).
                That are you!

   MAX.
   You knew him only from this morn! But I
   Have lived ten years already in his presence;
   And who knows whether in this very moment
   He is not merely waiting for us both
   To own our loves in order to unite us?
   You are silent!
   You look at me with such a hopelessness!
   What have you to object against your father?

   THEKLA.
   I? Nothing. Only he's so occupied—
   He has no leisure time to think about
   The happiness of us two.
                [Taking his hand tenderly.
                Follow me
   Let us not place too great a faith in men.
   These Terzkys—we will still be grateful to them
   For every kindness, but not trust them further
   Than they deserve;—and in all else rely
   On our own hearts!

   MAX.
             O! shall we e'er be happy?

   THEKLA.
   Are we not happy now? Art thou not mine?
   Am I not thine? There lives within my soul
   A lofty courage—'tis love gives it me!
   I ought to be less open—ought to hide
   My heart more from thee—so decorum dictates:
   But where in this place couldst thou seek for truth,
   If in my mouth thou didst not find it?
   We now have met, then let us hold each other
   Clasped in a lasting and a firm embrace.
   Believe me this was more than their intent.
   Then be our loves like some blest relic kept
   Within the deep recesses of the heart.
   From heaven alone the love has been bestowed,
   To heaven alone our gratitude is due;
   It can work wonders for us still.