Thekla (falls on his neck). That are you!
Max. You knew him only since this morn; but I
Have liv'd ten years already in his presence,
And who knows whether in this very moment
He is not merely waiting for us both 25
To own our loves, in order to unite us.
You are silent!——
You look at me with such a hopelessness!
What have you to object against your father?
Thekla. I? Nothing. Only he's so occupied— 30
He has no leisure time to think about
The happiness of us two. [Taking his hand tenderly.
Follow me!
Let us not place too great a faith in men.
These Tertskys—we will still be grateful to them
For every kindness, but not trust them further [35]
Than they deserve;—and in all else rely——
On our own hearts!
Max. O! shall we e'er be happy?
Thekla. Are we not happy now? Art thou not mine?
Am I not thine? There lives within my soul
A lofty courage—'tis love gives it me! 40
I ought to be less open—ought to hide
My heart more from thee—so decorum dictates:[651:1]
But where in this place could'st thou seek for truth,
If in my mouth thou did'st not find it?
FOOTNOTES:
[651:1] What may not a man write and publish, who writes with the press waiting, and composes p. 86 while the printer is composing p. 85? MS. R.
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