The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Vi Part 62

Now let me sleep until she comes, for I Myself am but the dreaming of a night.

[_She lays her head on her arm and her arm on her pillows._]

GARCERAN (_steps to the_ KING _who stands watching the reclining RACHEL_).

Most n.o.ble Sire--

KING (_still gazing_). Well?

GARCERAN. May I now go back Once more unto the army and the camp?

KING (_as above_).

The army left the camp? Pray tell me why.

GARCERAN. You hear me not--myself, _I_ wish to go.

KING. And there you'll talk, with innuendo, prate--

GARCERAN. Of what?

KING. Of me, of that which here took place.

GARCERAN. For that I'd need to understand it more.

KING. I see! Believest thou in sorcery?

GARCERAN. Since recently I almost do, my lord!

KING. And why is it but recently, I pray?

GARCERAN. Respect, I thought the wonted mate of love; But love together with contempt, my lord--

KING. "Contempt" were far too hard a word; perhaps An "unregard"--yet, nathless--marvelous!

GARCERAN. In sooth, the marvel is a little old, For it began that day in Paradise When G.o.d from Adam's rib created Eve.

KING. And yet he closed the breast when it was done, And placed the will to guard the entering in.

Thou may'st to camp, but not alone:--with me.

RACHEL (_sitting up_).

The sun is creeping into my retreat.

Who props for me the curtain on yon side?

(_Looking off stage at the right._)

There go two men, both bearing heavy arms; The lance would serve my purpose very well.

(_Calling off stage._)

Come here! This way! What, are ye deaf?

Come quick!

[_The servant, returning with the lance and helmet, accompanied by a second servant bearing the King's s.h.i.+eld and cuira.s.s, enters._]

RACHEL. Give me your lance, good man, and stick the point Here in the ground, and then the roof will be Held up in that direction. Thus it throws A broader shadow. Quickly, now! That's right!

You other fellow, like a snail, you bear Your house upon your back, unless, perhaps, A house for some one else. Show me the s.h.i.+eld!

A mirror 'tis, in sooth! 'Tis crude, of course, As all is, here, but in a pinch 'twill do.

(_They hold the s.h.i.+eld before her._)

One brings one's hair in order, pushes back Whatever may have ventured all too far, And praises G.o.d who made one pa.s.sing fair.

This mirror's curve distorts me! Heaven help!

What puffy cheeks are these? No, no, my friend, What roundness nature gives us, satisfies.-- And now the helmet--useless in a fight, For it conceals what oft'nest wins--the eyes; But quite adapted to the strife of love.

Put me the helm upon my head.--You hurt!-- And if one's love rebels and shows his pride, Down with the visor!

(_Letting it down._)

He in darkness stands!

But should he dare, mayhap, to go from us, And send for arms, to leave us here alone, Then up the visor goes.

(_She does it._)

Let there be light!

The sun, victorious, drives away the fog.

KING (_going to her_).

Thou silly, playing, wisely-foolish child!

RACHEL. Back, back! Give me the s.h.i.+eld, give me the lance!

I am attacked, but can defend myself.

KING. Lay down thy arms! No ill approacheth thee!

(_Taking both of her hands._)

_Enter ESTHER from the left rear._

RACHEL. Ah thou, my little sister! Welcome, here!

Away with all this mummery, but quick!

Don't take my head off, too! How clumsy, ye!

(_Running to her._)

Once more be welcome, O thou sister mine!

How I have long'd to have thee here with me!

And hast thou brought my bracelets and my jewels, My ointments and my perfumes, with thee now, As from Toledo's shops I ordered them?