Page:Poet Lore, volume 26, 1915.djvu/342

 Výrava.—And can I believe you?

Jeroným.—You can.

Výrava.—Come, then, come, oh, my soul! My strength grows an hundredfold, and in you, in you I see the complete greatness of my future years. (Hastens away.)

Jeroným (To himself).—O Sylvia! O Sylvia! (Is about to depart. At that instant steps out on the balcony., frightened, cries out aloud.) Sylvia! Countess!

Sylvia.—Hush, in God’s name!

Jeroným.—Forgive me—you, countess, here, and at such a time.

Sylvia.—I am here and you may call my step madness or what you wish, I only ask, that you bury it in the depths of your bosom.

Jeroným.—The joy! But I fear

Sylvia.—I have no fear for myself, therefore neither must you fear. Be careful,—speak softly—and be all the more calm, the more I am torn by my restlessness. (Seizes him by the hand and looks around to see if anyone is near.)

Jeroným.—Your hand, countess, is trembling.

Sylvia.—That is how my whole soul trembles in apprehension for you. Through the dusk of the night a strange presentiment has come into my mind, agitated by today’s events.

Jeroným.—What excited you?

Sylvia.—When I left the Earl’s family, I sat in my room and thought—why wrap myself in the robe of untruth —I thought—of you.

Jeroným (Kneels and kisses her hand).—Dear—gracious Countess!

Sylvia.—And then a great fright fell upon my soul—that perhaps you would forsake the castle—the Earl—and—all of us.

Jeroným (Conscious of his intention).—My God! (Arises.)

Sylvia (Interpreting his cry as contradiction of her supposition).