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It is the soul that builds itself a body, And Friedland's camp will not remain unfilled. Lead then your thousands out to meet me true! They are accustomed under me to conquer, But not against me. If the head and limbs Separate from each other, 'twill be soon Made manifest in which the soul abode.
Friedland's face had the angry helplessness of a witness in the hands of a clever lawyer. "A pretty socialist you are!" he broke out, as his arm swept with an auctioneer's gesture over the luxurious villa in the Bellevuestrasse. "Why don't you call in the first sweep from the street and pour him out your champagne?" "My dear Friedland! Delighted. Help yourself," said Lassalle imperturbably.
One more blow upon the heart that she herself had smitten so hard! Sympathy for this new pain took her back to every incident of the old to every detail of that hideous week which had followed upon her flight. How had she lived through it? Those letters that distant voice in Dr. Friedland's study her own piteous craving
MAX. Where is that voice of truth which I dare follow! It speaks no longer in my heart. Say that thou canst, And I am the duke's COUNTESS. Think, niece MAX. Think nothing, Thekla! Speak what thou feelest. COUNTESS. Think upon your father. MAX. I did not question thee, as Friedland's daughter. Thee, the beloved and the unerring God Within thy heart, I question. What's at stake?
This vast and mighty host is all obedient To Friedland's captains; and its brave commanders, Bred in one school, and nurtured with one milk, Are all excited by one heart and soul; They are as strangers on the soil they tread, The service is their only house and home.
Why here, in Duke Friedland's headquarters, 'tie plain If for every thunder, and every blast, Which blazing ye from your tongue-points cast, The bells were but rung, in the country round, Not a bellman, I ween, would there soon be found; And if for each and every unholy prayer Which to vent from your jabbering jaws you dare, From your noddles were plucked but the smallest hair, Ev'ry crop would be smoothed ere the sun went down, Though at morn 'twere as bushy as Absalom's crown.
Do we not return to Carinthia then? WALLENSTEIN. No. DUCHESS. And to no other of your lands or seats? WALLENSTEIN. You would not be secure there. DUCHESS. Not secure. In the emperor's realms, beneath the emperor's Protection? WALLENSTEIN. Friedland's wife may be permitted No longer to hope that. DUCHESS. O God in heaven! And have you brought it even to this!
Oh, stand firm! stand firm, my mother! COUNTESS. Revolted is the duke; he is preparing To join the enemy; the army leave him, And all has failed. A spacious room in the Duke of Friedland's palace. Thou hast gained thy point, Octavio! Once more am I Almost as friendless as at Regensburg. There I had nothing left me but myself; But what one man can do you have now experience.
FIRST YAGER. Then the lesson is wofully thrown away, How he hawks and spits, indeed, I may say You've copied and caught in the cleverest way; But his spirit, his genius oh, these I ween, On your guard parade are but seldom seen. SECOND YAGER. Why, zounds! ask for us wherever you will, Friedland's wild hunt is our title still!
The speaker was Dr. Friedland, the only intimate friend Stephen Fountain had ever made at Cambridge. The person addressed was Dr. Friedland's wife. On hearing her husband's question, that lady's gentle and benevolent countenance emerged from the folds of a newspaper.
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