SCHILLER.
Countess. Doors creaked and clapped;
I followed panting, but could not o’ertake thee;
When on a sudden did I feel myself
Grasped from behind,—the hand was cold that grasped me.
’Twas thou, and thou didst kiss me, and there seemed
A crimson covering to envelop us.
Wallenstein. That is the crimson tapestry of my chamber.
Wallenstein.
