And Heaven forbid that I forget thee aye.”
Then Telimena sprang upon his neck.
“I hoped for this,” she said; “thou lovest me,
Therefore I live. For I to-day did purpose
To end my life with mine own hand. If thou,
My dear one, lov’st me, canst thou cast me off?
I have given my heart to thee; my property
I’ll also give thee; I will follow thee
To every place; each corner of the earth
Were sweet to me with thee; the wildest desert,
Believe me, love will change into a garden
Of pleasures.” Thaddeus released himself
By force from her embrace. “What!” answered he,
“Art thou in thy right mind? where? and for what?
To follow me? I, but a private soldier,
To take thee with me, as a cantinière?”
“We will be married,” answered Telimena.
“No, never! never!” answered Thaddeus.
“I have no intent at all to marry now,
Or love. That was but nonsense, let it be.
I pray thee, love, consider, be at peace!
I am grateful to thee, but I cannot wed thee.
Let us each other love—but thus—apart.
I may no longer tarry; no, no, I
Must go. Farewell now, Telimena mine,
To-morrow I shall go.” He spoke, and pressed
The hat upon his brows, and turned aside,
Wishing to go, but Telimena stayed him
With glance and visage of Medusa. He
Must tarry ’spite himself, and looked in fear
Upon her form; she stood, unbreathing, still,
And lifeless, till she stretched her hand forth like
A sword for piercing, with the finger aimed
Straight at the eyes of Thaddeus. “I desired
This man!” she cried; “ha! tongue of dragon! ha!
Thou heart of lizard! Was it nothing, then,
That I, infatuate with thee, have scorned
The Assessor and the Regent, and the Count?
Thou didst deceive me, and now leav’st forlorn!
That’s nothing, for thou art a man! I know
Your wickedness! I knew that, like the rest,
Thou couldst break plighted faith; I did not know
Thou couldst so basely lie! I listened at
Thine uncle’s door. And so this child, Sophia,
Has pleased thine eyes, and treacherously thou
Pursuest her? Thou scarcely hast deceived
One hapless woman, ’neath her very eyes,
Thou seekest a new victim! Fly, but yet
My curse shall overtake thee; or remain!
Thy wickedness I’ll publish to the world!
Thine arts no others shall deceive, as they
Did me deceive! Away! I scorn thee, thou
A liar art, a vile man!” At this outrage,
Deadly to noble’s ears, which no Soplica
Had ever heard with patience, Thaddeus shook;
Pale as a corpse his visage, on the ground
Stamping, and pressing close his lips, he said,
“Thou foolish woman!” He departed; still
This term of “vile” re-echoed in his heart,
And the youth shuddered; well he felt that he
Deserved it, felt that he had done great wrong
To Telimena, that she had with justice
Chastised him. Thus to him his conscience spake,
Yet more he loathed her for these accusations.
And oh, Sophia! he dared not think of her,
It caused him shame! Yet this Sophia, so fair,
So sweet, his uncle had to him betrothed her;
She should have been his wife, if Satan still,
Entangling him from sin in fresher sin,
In falsehood after falsehood, had at last
Left him with laughter, chidden, scorned by all.
He had wasted all his future in two days!
Alas! this was the just reward of crime!
In this wild storm of feelings, suddenly
That duel gleamed before him like an anchor
Of rest. “I’ll slay that villain Count!” he cried
In anger; “I will have revenge or die!”
But wherefore slay? Himself he could not tell;
This rage exceeding, as it had possessed him,
So in a twinkling did it blow away.
Again deep grief possessed him, and he thought,
“If true be my surmises that the Count
May have some understanding with Sophia—
What then? Perhaps the Count loves Sophy truly.
May be she loves him, will for husband choose him.
What right have I to break such marriage off,
Myself unhappy, others’ bliss destroy?”
He fell into despair, and saw no help
But rapid flight, and where? but to the grave.
So pressing hard his fist upon his brow,
He rushed into the meadows where the ponds
Gleamed far below, and o’er the muddy pool
He stood. He plunged his greedy glance into
The green gulf, and inhaled its muddy odour
With pleasure, and he opened wide his lips
Towards the pond. For suicide is aye
In choice as delicate as all debauch;
And he in the mad whirling of his brain,
Felt unexpressed attraction to the mud,
To drown himself therein. But Telimena,
Who from the youth’s wild looks had guessed the depth
Of his despair, beholding him thus rush
Towards the ponds, though she with anger glowed
Against him, and this justly, she was frightened
For him, she was in truth kind-hearted. Though
She deeply grieved that Thaddeus should dare
To love another, she would punish him,
But not destroy. So rushed she after him,
Exclaiming, “Stay! most foolish! Love or not!
Marry, or ride away; but only stop!”
But he in rapid flight outran her far,
And stood now on the border of the pond.
By strange decree of fate, on this same shore
The Count now rode, with all his jockey troop,
And by the beauty of so fair a night,
And by the wondrous harmony of that
Sub-aqueous orchestra, charmed; those choirs
That sounded like Eolian harps—no frogs
Can make such music as the Polish frogs—
He stayed his horse, and his emprize forgot.
Turned to the pond, he listened curiously.
His eyes roved o’er the fields, and heaven’s wide plain,
In thought composing landscapes of the night.
The neighbourhood indeed was picturesque,
The two ponds with their visage near approached,
Like two fond lovers; waters smooth and clear
The right-hand pond presents, like maiden’s cheeks.
The left-hand pond seemed something darker, like
The swarthy visage of a youth, bedecked
Already with the down of manhood.
Glittered with golden sand, like shining locks;
The forehead of the second pond with osiers
Seemed bristling, and a tuft of willows bore.
Both ponds were garmented in robes of green.
From them two streams, like hands together clasped,
Gushed forth. The stream of these united fell
Down to the vale; it fell, but was not lost,
For in the darkness of the trench it bore
Upon its waves the gilding of the moon.
The water fell by stages, and on each
Shone handfuls of the moonlight. In the trench
The light was shivered into tiny fragments;
The fleeting current caught them, and them bore
Away into the depths, and from above
Again the moonlight still in handfuls fell.
Thou wouldst have said a Switezianka
