Duchess. Her eyes are opening.
Countess. She lives.
Thekla (looking around her). Where am I?
Wallenstein (steps to her, raising her up in his arms). Come, cheerly, Thekla! be my own brave girl!
See, there's thy loving mother. Thou art in 15
Thy father's arms.
Thekla (standing up). Where is he? Is he gone?
Duchess. Who gone, my daughter?
Thekla. He—the man who uttered
That word of misery.
Duchess. O! think not of it,
My Thekla!
Wallenstein. Give her sorrow leave to talk!
Let her complain—mingle your tears with hers, 20
For she hath suffered a deep anguish; but
She'll rise superior to it, for my Thekla
Hath all her father's unsubdued heart.
Thekla. I am not ill. See, I have power to stand.
Why does my mother weep? Have I alarmed her? 25
It is gone by—I recollect myself— [She casts her eyes round the room, as seeking some one.
Where is he? Please you, do not hide him from me.
You see I have strength enough: now I will hear him.