Verzweifeltes Begehren (German Edition)
Hire a man when you need help. She can make much more with her eggs and butter than the wages of a man. It was one of my mistakes that I did not find that out sooner. Try to break a little more land every year; sod corn is good for fodder. Keep turning the land, and always put up more hay than you need. She has been a good mother to you, and she has always missed the old country.
Throughout the meal they looked down at their plates and did not lift their red eyes. They did not eat much, although they had been working in the cold all day, and there was a rabbit stewed in gravy for supper, and prune pies. John Bergson had married beneath him, but he had married a good housewife. Bergson was a fair-skinned, corpulent woman, heavy and placid like her son, Oscar, but there was something comfortable about her; German according: Hausfrau, Frau des Hauses. Kaninchen, Karnickel, Hase, das Kaninchen. For eleven years she had worthily striven to maintain some semblance of household order amid conditions that made order very difficult.
Habit was very strong with Mrs. Bergson, and her unremitting efforts to repeat the routine of her old life among new surroundings had done a great deal to keep the family from disintegrating morally and getting careless in their ways. The Bergsons had a log house, for instance, only because Mrs. Bergson would not live in a sod house. She missed the fish diet of her own country, and twice every summer she sent the boys to the river, twenty miles to the southward, to fish for channel cat. When the children were little she used to load them all into the wagon, the baby in its crib, and go fishing herself.
Preserving was almost a mania with Mrs. Stout as she was, she roamed the scrubby banks of Norway Creek looking for fox grapes and goose plums, like a wild creature in search of prey. She made a yellow jam of the insipid ground-cherries that grew on the prairie, flavoring it with lemon peel; and she made a sticky dark conserve of garden tomatoes. The amount of sugar she used in these processes was sometimes a serious drain upon the family resources. She was a good mother, but she was glad when her children were old enough not to be in her way in the kitchen. She had never quite forgiven John Bergson for bringing her to the end of the earth; but, now that she was there, she wanted to be let alone to reconstruct her old life in so far as that was possible.
She could still take some comfort in the world if she had bacon in the cave, glass jars on the shelves, and sheets in the press. She disapproved of all her neighbors because of their slovenly housekeeping, and the women thought her very proud. Bergson, on her way to Norway Creek, stopped to see old Mrs. Manie, Wahnsinn, Fimmel, Rage. Oscar stopped the horses and waved to Carl, who caught up his hat and ran through the melon patch to join them.
He might want it and take it right off your back. Did you ever hear him howl, Carl? People say sometimes he runs about the country howling at night because he is afraid the German clambering: Heulen, zischen, brausen, sausen. Flicken, ausbessern, Fleck, Korrektur. Hemd, Bluse, Trikot, Oberhemd. Rad, Lenkrad, Scheibe, das Rad. Lord will destroy him. Mother thinks he must have done something awful wicked. He petted her just like you do your cats. Some days his mind is cloudy, like.
But if you can get him on a clear day, you can learn a great deal from him. She was tearing all over the place, knocking herself against things. And at last she ran out on the roof of the old dugout and her legs went through and there she stuck, bellowing. Ivar came running with his white bag, and the German bellowing: Willa Cather 19 moment he got to her she was quiet and let him saw her horn off and daub the place with tar.
And in two days they could use her milk again. He had settled in the rough country across the county line, where no one lived but some Russians,-half a dozen families who dwelt together in one long house, divided off like barracks. Ivar had explained his choice by saying that the fewer neighbors he had, the fewer temptations. Nevertheless, when one considered that his chief business was horsedoctoring, it seemed rather short-sighted of him to live in the most inaccessible place he could find. The Bergson wagon lurched along over the rough hummocks and grass banks, followed the bottom of winding draws, or skirted the margin of wide lagoons, where the golden coreopsis grew up out of the clear water and the wild ducks rose with a whirr of wings.
Lou looked after them helplessly. Besides, they say he can smell dead birds. It makes him foolish. They had left the lagoons and the red grass behind them. Kuh, Rind, Rindvieh, die Kuh. Rand, Spielraum, Randlinie, Marge. The wild flowers disappeared, and only in the bottom of the draws and gullies grew a few of the very toughest and hardiest: At one end of the pond was an earthen dam, planted with green willow bushes, and above it a door and a single window were set into the hillside.
You would not have seen them at all but for the reflection of the sunlight upon the four panes of window-glass. And that was all you saw. Not a shed, not a corral, not a well, not even a path broken in the curly grass. Ivar had lived for three years in the clay bank, without defiling the face of nature any more than the coyote that had lived there before him had done. When the Bergsons drove over the hill, Ivar was sitting in the doorway of his house, reading the Norwegian Bible.
He was a queerly shaped old man, with a thick, powerful body set on short bow-legs. His shaggy white hair, falling in a thick mane about his ruddy cheeks, made him look older than he was. He was barefoot, but he wore a clean shirt of unbleached cotton, open at the neck. He always put on a clean shirt when Sunday morning came round, though he never went to church. He had a peculiar religion of his own and could not get on with any of the denominations.
He kept a calendar, and every morning he checked off a day, so that he was never in any doubt as to which day of the week it was. Ivar hired himself out in threshing and corn-husking time, and he doctored sick animals when he was sent for. When he was at home, he made hammocks out of twine and committed chapters of the Bible to memory. Ivar found contentment in the solitude he had sought out for himself. He disliked the litter of human dwellings: He preferred the cleanness and tidiness of the wild sod.
He always said that the German barefoot: Wohnen, Wohnung, Hausen, Bewohnung. Sauberkeit, Ordnung, Reinlichheit, Geplegtheit. Willa Cather 21 badgers had cleaner houses than people, and that when he took a housekeeper her name would be Mrs. He best expressed his preference for his wild homestead by saying that his Bible seemed truer to him there. If one stood in the doorway of his cave, and looked off at the rough land, the smiling sky, the curly grass white in the hot sunlight; if one listened to the rapturous song of the lark, the drumming of the quail, the burr of the locust against that vast silence, one understood what Ivar meant.
He closed the book on his knee, keeping the place with his horny finger, and repeated softly: The trees of the Lord are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon which he hath planted; Where the birds make their nests: The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats; and the rocks for the conies.
He dropped his arms and went up to the wagon, smiling amiably and looking at them out of his pale blue eyes. A few ducks this German amiably: But there was a crane last week. She spent one night and came back the next evening. It is not her season, of course. Many of them go over in the fall. Then the pond is full of strange voices every night. I have heard so. A big white bird with long wings and pink feet.
She came in the afternoon and kept flying about the pond and screaming until dark. She was in trouble of some sort, but I could not understand her. She was going over to the other ocean, maybe, and did not know how far it was. She was afraid of never getting there. She was more mournful than our birds here; she cried in the night. She saw the light from my window and darted up to it. Maybe she thought my house was a boat, she was such a wild thing. Next morning, when the sun rose, I went out to take her food, but she flew up into the sky and went on her way.
They come from very far away and are great company. I hope you boys never shoot wild birds? He watches over them and counts them, as we do our cattle; Christ says so in the New Testament.
O Pioneers! (Webster's German Thesaurus Edition)
And the bay with a colt at home! Alexandra wants to see your hammocks. He had but one room, neatly plastered and whitewashed, and there was a wooden floor. There was a German brushed: Kran, Kranich, Giekbaum, Hebezug, Hebebalken. Willa Cather 23 kitchen stove, a table covered with oilcloth, two chairs, a clock, a calendar, a few books on the window-shelf; nothing more.
But the place was as clean as a cupboard. Ivar unslung a hammock from a hook on the wall; in it was rolled a buffalo robe. A hammock is a good bed, and in winter I wrap up in this skin. Where I go to work, the beds are not half so easy as this. He thought a cave a very superior kind of house. There was something pleasantly unusual about it and about Ivar. Is that why so many come? Ivar sat down on the floor and tucked his feet under him.
From up there where they are flying, our country looks dark and flat. They must have water to drink and to bathe in before they can go on with their journey. They look this way and that, and far below them they see something shining, like a piece of glass set in the dark earth. That is my pond. They come to it and are not disturbed. Maybe I sprinkle a little corn. They tell the other birds, and next year more come this way.
They have their roads up there, as we have down here. The point of the wedge gets the worst of it; they cut the wind. They can only stand it there a little while--half an hour, maybe. Then they fall back and the wedge splits a little, while the rear ones come up the middle to the front.
Then it closes up and they fly on, with a new edge. They are always changing like that, up in the air. Never any confusion; just like soldiers who have been drilled. They would not come in, but sat in the shade of the bank outside while Alexandra and Ivar talked about the birds and about his housekeeping, and why he never ate meat, fresh or salt. Robe, Talar, Kleid, Morgenrock. Alexandra was sitting on one of the wooden chairs, her arms resting on the table. Ivar was sitting on the floor at her feet. What can be done? They lost their vagueness. And keep them in a stinking pen?
I tell you, sister, the hogs of this country are put upon! They become unclean, like the hogs in the Bible. If you kept your chickens like that, what would happen? You have a little sorghum patch, maybe? Put a fence around it, and turn the hogs in. Build a shed to give them shade, a thatch on poles. Let the boys haul water to them in barrels, clean water, and plenty. Get them off the old stinking ground, and do not let them go back there until winter. Give them only grain and clean feed, such as you would give horses or cattle.
Hogs do not like to be filthy. Lou nudged his brother. Carl, who could not understand what Ivar said, saw that the two boys were displeased. They did not mind hard work, but they hated experiments and could never see the use of taking pains. Even Lou, who was more elastic than his older brother, disliked to do anything different from their neighbors.
He felt that it made them conspicuous and gave people a chance to talk about them. Once they were on the homeward road, the boys forgot their ill-humor and joked about Ivar and his birds. They agreed that German barrels: Brett, Planke, Tafel, Bohle. Willa Cather 25 he was crazier than ever, and would never be able to prove up on his land because he worked it so little.
Alexandra privately resolved that she would have a talk with Ivar about this and stir him up. The boys persuaded Carl to stay for supper and go swimming in the pasture pond after dark. It was a still, deep-breathing summer night, full of the smell of the hay fields. Sounds of laughter and splashing came up from the pasture, and when the moon rose rapidly above the bare rim of the prairie, the pond glittered like polished metal, and she could see the flash of white bodies as the boys ran about the edge, or jumped into the water.
Alexandra watched the shimmering pool dreamily, but eventually her eyes went back to the sorghum patch south of the barn, where she was planning to make her new pig corral. Schwein, Eber, das Schwein. Then came the hard times that brought every one on the Divide to the brink of despair; three years of drouth and failure, the last struggle of a wild soil against the encroaching plowshare. The first of these fruitless summers the Bergson boys bore courageously.
The failure of the corn crop made labor cheap. Lou and Oscar hired two men and put in bigger crops than ever before. They lost everything they spent. The whole country was discouraged. Farmers who were already in debt had to give up their land. A few foreclosures demoralized the county. The settlers sat about on the wooden sidewalks in the little town and told each other that the country was never meant for men to live in; the thing to do was to get back to Iowa, to Illinois, to any place that had been proved habitable.
The Bergson boys, certainly, would have been happier with their uncle Otto, in the bakery shop in Chicago. Like most of their neighbors, they were meant to follow in paths already marked out for them, not to break trails in a new country. A steady job, a few holidays, nothing to think about, and they would have been very happy.
It was no fault of theirs that they had been dragged into the wilderness when they were little boys. A pioneer should have imagination, should be able to enjoy the idea of things more than the things themselves. Rand, Kante, Grat, Saum. Arbeit, Arbeiten, Verrichten, Tun. One September afternoon Alexandra had gone over to the garden across the draw to dig sweet potatoes-they had been thriving upon the weather that was fatal to everything else. But when Carl Linstrum came up the garden rows to find her, she was not working.
She was standing lost in thought, leaning upon her pitchfork, her sunbonnet lying beside her on the ground. The dry garden patch smelled of drying vines and was strewn with yellow seed-cucumbers and pumpkins and citrons. At one end, next the rhubarb, grew feathery asparagus, with red berries. Down the middle of the garden was a row of gooseberry and currant bushes. A few tough zenias and marigolds and a row of scarlet sage bore witness to the buckets of water that Mrs. Bergson had carried there after sundown, against the prohibition of her sons.
Carl came quietly and slowly up the garden path, looking intently at Alexandra. She did not hear him. She was standing perfectly still, with that serious ease so characteristic of her. Her thick, reddish braids, twisted about her head, fairly burned in the sunlight. Even Carl, never a very cheerful boy, and considerably darkened by these last two bitter years, loved the country on days like this, felt something strong and young and wild come out of it, that laughed at care. We are really going away. Louis, and they will give him back his old job in the cigar factory. He must be there by the first of November.
They are taking on new men then. We will sell the place for whatever we can get, and auction the German asparagus: Salbei, Weise, Klug, Gescheit. I am going to learn engraving with a German engraver there, and then try to get work in Chicago. Her eyes became dreamy and filled with tears. He scratched in the soft earth beside him with a stick. We are only one more drag, one more thing you look out for and feel responsible for. Father was never meant for a farmer, you know that. And I hate it. You are wasting your life here.
You are able to do much better things. I expect that is the only way one person ever really can help another. I think you are about the only one that ever helped me. Somehow it will take more courage to bear your going than everything that has happened before. He makes me laugh. You were only a little girl then, but you knew ever so much more about farm work than poor German cheeks: Willa Cather 29 father. You remember how homesick I used to get, and what long talks we used to have coming from school?
That will mean a great deal to me here. They always come home from town discouraged, anyway. So many people are trying to leave the country, and they talk to our boys and make them low-spirited. See, there goes the sun, Carl. I must be getting back. Mother will want her potatoes. A golden afterglow throbbed in the west, but the country already looked empty and mournful. A dark moving mass came over the western hill, the Lee boy was bringing in the herd from the other halfsection. Emil ran from the windmill to open the corral gate. From the log house, German afterglow: The cattle lowed and bellowed.
In the sky the pale half-moon was slowly silvering. Alexandra and Carl walked together down the potato rows.
- A Concealed Hand: A Short Story.
- Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, 2011 Edition (Live the Code).
- Improper Seduction Bundle with In the Warriors Bed, Bedding the Enemy, & In Bed with A Stranger.
- A Little Help from Our Friends.
- Dawn on the Infinity!
But I can remember what it was like before. Now I shall have nobody but Emil. But he is my boy, and he is tender-hearted. They had worn their coats to town, but they ate in their striped shirts and suspenders. They were grown men now, and, as Alexandra said, for the last few years they had been growing more and more like themselves. Lou was still the slighter of the two, the quicker and more intelligent, but apt to go off at halfcock.
He had a lively blue eye, a thin, fair skin always burned red to the neckband of his shirt in summer , stiff, yellow hair that would not lie down on his head, and a bristly little yellow mustache, of which he was very proud. Oscar could not grow a mustache; his pale face was as bare as an egg, and his white eyebrows gave it an empty look.
He was a man of powerful body and unusual endurance; the sort of man you could attach to a corn-sheller as you would an engine. He would turn it all day, without hurrying, without slowing down. But he was as indolent of mind as he was unsparing of his body. His love of routine amounted to a vice.
He worked like an insect, always doing the same thing over in the same way, regardless of whether it was best or no. He felt that there was a sovereign virtue in mere bodily toil, and he rather liked to do things in the hardest way. He liked to begin his corn-planting at the same time every year, whether the season were backward or forward.
He seemed to feel that by his own irreproachable regularity he would clear himself of blame and reprove the weather. When the wheat crop failed, he threshed the straw at a dead loss to demonstrate how little grain there was, and thus prove his case against Providence. Willa Cather 31 liked to keep the place up, but he never got round to doing odd jobs until he had to neglect more pressing work to attend to them.
In the middle of the wheat harvest, when the grain was over-ripe and every hand was needed, he would stop to mend fences or to patch the harness; then dash down to the field and overwork and be laid up in bed for a week. The two boys balanced each other, and they pulled well together. They had been good friends since they were children.
One seldom went anywhere, even to town, without the other. It was Alexandra herself who at last opened the discussion. The old man is going to work in the cigar factory again. Lou reached for a potato. You see, Lou, that Fuller has a head on him. Some day the land itself will be worth more than all we can ever raise on it. Kartoffel, Erdapfel, die Kartoffel, Kleikartoffel. The fellows that settled up here just made a mistake.
All the Americans are skinning out. That man Percy Adams, north of town, told me that he was going to let Fuller take his land and stuff for four hundred dollars and a ticket to Chicago. If only poor people could learn a little from rich people! But all these fellows who are running off are bad farmers, like poor Mr. He was so set on keeping this land. He must have seen harder times than this, here.
How was it in the early days, mother? Bergson was weeping quietly. These family discussions always depressed her, and made her remember all that she had been torn away from. If the rest of you go, I will ask some of the neighbors to take me in, and stay and be buried by father. The boys looked angry. We only want you to advise us. How did it use to be when you and father first came? Was it really as bad as this, or not? My garden all cut to pieces like sauerkraut. No grapes on the creek, no nothing. The people all lived just like coyotes. Hagel, hageln, anreden, anrufen, ansprechen.
Nest, nisten, Horst, verschachteln, einnisten. Willa Cather 33 Oscar got up and tramped out of the kitchen. They felt that Alexandra had taken an unfair advantage in turning their mother loose on them. The next morning they were silent and reserved. They did not offer to take the women to church, but went down to the barn immediately after breakfast and stayed there all day. When Carl Linstrum came over in the afternoon, Alexandra winked to him and pointed toward the barn.
He understood her and went down to play cards with the boys. They believed that a very wicked thing to do on Sunday, and it relieved their feelings. On Sunday afternoon Mrs. Bergson always took a nap, and Alexandra read. During the week she read only the newspaper, but on Sunday, and in the long evenings of winter, she read a good deal; read a few things over a great many times. She was looking thoughtfully away at the point where the upland road disappeared over the rim of the prairie. Her body was in an attitude of perfect repose, such as it was apt to take when she was thinking earnestly.
Her mind was slow, truthful, steadfast. She had not the least spark of cleverness. All afternoon the sitting-room was full of quiet and sunlight. Emil was making rabbit traps in the kitchen shed. That evening Carl came in with the boys to supper. Because I am going to take a trip, and you can go with me if you want to. If I find anything good, you boys can go down and make a trade.
Maybe they are just as discontented down there as we are up here. Things away from home often look better than they are. You know what your Hans Andersen book says, Carl, about the Swedes liking to buy Danish bread and the Danes liking to buy Swedish bread, because people always think the bread of another country is better than their own. He had not yet learned to keep away from the shell-game wagons that followed the circus. It was not long before the two boys at the table neglected their game to listen. They were all big children together, and they found the adventures of the family in the tree house so absorbing that they gave them their undivided attention.
Abenteuer, Gefahren, Geschick, Schicksale. Bis, Kasse, Geldkasten, Geldschublade, bis zu. Alexandra talked to the men about their crops and to the women about their poultry. She spent a whole day with one young farmer who had been away at school, and who was experimenting with a new kind of clover hay.
She learned a great deal. As they drove along, she and Emil talked and planned. Most of the land is rough and hilly. They can always scrape along down there, but they can never do anything big. Down there they have a little certainty, but up with us there is a big chance. We must have faith in the high land, Emil. When the road began to climb the first long swells of the Divide, Alexandra hummed an old Swedish hymn, and Emil wondered why his sister looked so happy.
Her face was so radiant that he felt shy about asking her. For the first time, perhaps, since that land emerged from the waters of geologic ages, a human face was set toward it with love and yearning. It seemed beautiful to her, German certainty: Hymne, Hymnus, Loblied, Lobgesang, Preislied.
Typee (Webster's German Thesaurus Edition)
Kratzen, schaben, abkratzen, radieren, schrapen. Her eyes drank in the breadth of it, until her tears blinded her. Then the Genius of the Divide, the great, free spirit which breathes across it, must have bent lower than it ever bent to a human will before. The history of every country begins in the heart of a man or a woman. That evening she held a family council and told her brothers all that she had seen and heard.
Nothing will convince you like seeing with your own eyes. The river land was settled before this, and so they are a few years ahead of us, and have learned more about farming. The land sells for three times as much as this, but in five years we will double it. The rich men down there own all the best land, and they are buying all they can get.
The thing to do is to sell our cattle and what little old corn we have, and buy the Linstrum place. He sprang up and began to wind the clock furiously. They had never seen her so nervous. Well, with the money we buy a half-section from Linstrum and a half from Crow, and a quarter from Struble, maybe. But as sure as we are sitting here to-night, we can sit down here ten years from now German acre: Sklave, Sklavin, Knecht, Dienstsklave, Leibeigene. Willa Cather 37 independent landowners, not struggling farmers any longer.
The chance that father was always looking for has come. When you drive about over the country you can feel it coming. Bernd marked it as to-read Feb 22, Manfred added it Apr 07, Lauri added it May 31, There are no discussion topics on this book yet.
Verzweifeltes Begehren by Inka Loreen Minden
About Inka Loreen Minden. She lives in Munich and shares her home with her husband and son. Her husband sometimes thinks she is more alien than human as she often acts out of character. Inka enjoys reading, watching movies with her family and playing violin. She craves writing and chocolate, often both at the same time.
Since she has written more than 26 books—historical, contemporary and paranormal—appearing regularly in the German online bestseller charts. Love, passion and humor always have a place in her erotic romances, regardless where the heroes meet each other. Inka welcomes visitors at www. Sfido l'ironico Nume e il destin! Lo trascina a contesa. Le campane risuonino a stormo Roderigo esce correndo. Son io fra i Saraceni? Onesto Jago, per quell'amor che tu mi porti, parla. La mia dolce Desdemona anch'essa per voi distolta da' suoi sogni? Jago esce Si soccorra Montano. Io da qui non mi parto a tutti con gesto imperioso se pria non vedo deserti gli spaldi.
La Scena si vuota. Otello fa cenno agli uomini colle fiaccole che lo accompagnano di rientrare nel castello. Tuoni la guerra e s'inabissi il mondo se dopo l'ira immensa vien quest'immenso amor! Quanti tormenti, quanti mesti sospiri e quanta speme ci condusse ai soavi abbracciamenti! Quando narravi l'esule tua vita e i fieri eventi e i lunghi tuoi dolor, ed io t'udia coll'anima rapita in quei spaventi e coll'estasi in cor. OTELLO Pingea dell'armi il fremito, la pugna e il vol gagliardo alla breccia mortal, l'assalto, orribil edera, coll'ugna al baluardo e il sibilante stral. OTELLO Ingentilia di lagrime la storia il tuo bel viso e il labbro di sospir; scendean sulle mie tenebre la gloria, il paradiso e gli astri a benedir.
Una invetriata la divide da un grande giardino. Jago al di qua del verone. Se credi a me, tra poco farai ritorno ai folleggianti amori di Monna Bianca, altiero capitano, coll'elsa d'oro e col balteo fregiato. Ti spinge il tuo dimone, e il tuo dimon son io. E me trascina il mio, nel quale io credo, inesorato Iddio. Credo con fermo cuor, siccome crede la vedovella al tempio, che il mal ch'io penso e che da me procede, per il mio destino adempio. E credo l'uom gioco d'iniqua sorte dal germe della culla al verme dell'avel.
Vien dopo tanta irrision la Morte. Si vede passare nel giardino Desdemona con Emilia. Or qui si tragga Otello! JAGO Che asondo in cor, signore? Nomini Cassio e allora tu corrughi la fronte. Suvvia, parla, se m'ami. JAGO Voi sapete ch'io v'amo. JAGO S'anco teneste in mano tutta l'anima mia nol sapreste. Pria del dubbio l'indagine, dopo il dubbio la prova, dopo la prova Otello ha sue leggi supreme , amore e gelosia vadan dispersi insieme!
JAGO Un tal proposto spezza di mie labbra il suggello. Non parlo ancor di prova, pur, generoso Otello, vigilate. Qui fra gigli e rose, come a un casto altare, padri, bimbi, spose vengono a cantar. Si vede ricomparire Desdemona nel giardino, dalla vasta apertura del fondo: Una parte del Coro in scena; uniti a questa vi sarrano dei figuranti con Mandolini, Chitarre e Cornamuse. VOCI Dove guardi splendono raggi, avvampan cuori, dove passi scendono nuvole di fiori. FANCIULLI spargendo al suolo fiori di giglio T'offriamo il giglio soave stel che in man degl'angeli fu assunto in ciel, che abbella il fulgido manto e la gonna della Madonna e il santo vel.
Vogliam Desdemona coi doni nostri come un'immagine sacra adornar. L'april circonda la sposa bionda d'un etra rorida che vibra al sol. S'ella m'inganna, il ciel se stesso irride! Desdemona, seguita poi da Emilia, entra nella sala e s'avanza verso Otello. Intercedo per lui, per lui ti prego. Emilia raccoglie il fazzoletto dal suolo. Guardami in volto e mira come favella amor. Vien ch'io t'allieti il core, ch'io ti lenisca il duol. Ti leggo in volto. JAGO Dammi quel vel! JAGO A me quel vel! Desdemona ed Emilia escono.
Jago finge d'escire dalla porta del fondo, ma giuntovi s'arresta. JAGO cupo Soffri e ruggi! M'hai legato alla croce! Nell'ore arcane della sua lussuria e a me furate! Nulla sapevo ancora; io non sentivo sul suo corpo divin che m'innamora e sui labbri mendaci gli ardenti baci di Cassio! Addio schiere fulgenti, addio vittorie, dardi volanti e volanti corsier! Addio, vessillo trionfale e pio, e diane squillanti in sul mattin! Clamori e canti di battaglia, addio!
Vo' una secura, una visibil prova! O sulla tua testa s'accenda e precipiti il fulmine del mio spaventoso furor che si desta! Afferra Jago alla gola e lo atterra. JAGO Divina grazia difendimi! Alzandosi Il cielo vi protegga. Forse onesto tu sei. JAGO sulla soglia fingendo d'andarsene Meglio varebbe ch'io fossi un ciurmador. Credo leale Desdemona e credo che non lo sia. Te credo onesto e credo disleale. La prova io voglio! E qual certezza v'abbisogna? Con interrotte voci tradia l'intimo incanto.
Le labbra lente, lente movea, nell'abbandono del sogno ardente, e allor dicea, con flebil suono: Il nostro amor s'asconda. L'estasi del ciel tutto m'innonda. JAGO Io non narrai che un sogno. Mille vite gli donasse Iddio! Jago, ho il cor di gelo. Lungi da me le pietose larve! Tutto il mio vano amor escalo al cielo; Guardami, ei sparve. Per le attorte folgori! Levando la mano al cielo. Per la Morte e per l'oscuro mar sterminator! D'ira e d'impeto tremendo presto fia che sfolgori questa man ch'io levo e stendo!
A destra un vasto peristilio a colonne. Paziente siate o la prova vi sfugge. OTELLO con eleganza Eppur qui annida il demone gentil del mal consiglio, che il vago avorio allumina del piccioletto artiglio. Mollemente alla prece s'atteggiae al pio fervore. Una possente maga ne ordia lo stame arcano. Guarda le prime lagrime, che da me spreme il duol. E son io l'innocente cagion di tanto pianto! Otello sforza con un'inflessione del braccio, ma senza scomporsi, Desdemona ad escire. Poi ritorna verso il contro della scena nel massimo grado dell'abbattimento. Ma, o pianto, o duol! Tu alfin, Clemenza, pio genio immortal dal roseo riso, copri il tuo viso santo coll'orrida larva infernal!
Pria confessi il delitto e poscia muoia! JAGO Essa t'avvince coi vaghi rai. JAGO Ride chi vince. Dio frena l'ansia che in core mi sta! JAGO prendendo il fazzoletto Qual meraviglia! Troppo l'ammiri, troppo la guardi; bada ai deliri vani e bugiardi. Trombe interne in Do; ben lontano. Trombe da altra parte Ascolta. Tutto il castel co'suoi squilli risponde.
Se qui non vuoi con Otello scontrarti, fuggi. Cassio esce velocemente dal fondo. JAGO Vedeste ben com'egli ha riso? JAGO E il fazzoletto? Ma ad evitar sospetti, Desdemona si mostri a quei Messeri. Jago esce dalla porta di sinistra; Otello s'avvia verso il fondo per ricevere gli Ambasciatori. Dignitari della Repubblica Veneta. Trombettieri dal fondo, poi Jago con Desdemona ed Emilia dalla sinistra.
Viva il Leon di San Marco. Io reco nelle vostre mani il messaggio dogale. A Desdemona rapidamente Ne siete certa? JAGO fieramente e sorpreso Inferno e morte! Emilia e Lodovico sollevano pietosamente Desdemona. Ansia mortale, bieca, ne ingombra, anime assorte in lungo orror. Quel viso santo, pallido, blando, si china e tace e piange e muor.
Strazia coll'ugna l'orrido petto! Gli sguardi figge immoti al suol. Poi sfida il ciel coll'atre pugna, l'ispido aspetto ergendo ai dardi alti del Sol. Rapido slancia la tua vendetta! All'opra ergi tua mira! Io penso a Cassio. Ei le sue trame espia. L'infame anima ria l'averno inghiotte! JAGO Col primo albor salpa il vascello.
Eppur se avvien che a questi toccando la spada accada sventura - allor qui resta Otello. JAGO Mano alla spada! A notte folta io la sua traccia vigilo, e il varco e l'ora scruto; il resto a te. Impavido t'attendo, ultima sorte, occulto mio destin. Mi sprona amor, ma un avido, tremendo astro di morte infesta il mio cammin OTELLO ergendosi e rivolto alla folla, terribilmente Fuggite! Desdemona sciogliendosi da Lodovico e accorrendo verso Otello. Desdemona, fra Emilia e Lodovico, esce. Gloria al Leon di Venezia! Letto, inginocchiatoio, tavolo, specchio, sedie.
Una lampada arde appesa davanti all'immagine della Madonna che sta al disopra dell'inginocchiatoio. Un lume acceso sul tavolo.
M'ingiunse di coricarmi e d'attenderlo. Emilia, te ne prego, distendi sul mio letto la mia candida veste nuziale. Se pria di te morir dovessi mi seppellisci con un di quei veli. Mia madre aveva una povera ancella, innamorata e bella. Era il suo nome Barbara. Sedea chinando sul sen la testa! Scendean 'augelli a vol dai rami cupi verso quel dolce canto.
E gli occhi suoi piangean tanto, tanto, da impietosir le rupi.