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Friedrich Schiller - The Ring Of Polycrates - A BalladFriedrich Schiller - The Ring Of Polycrates - A Ballad
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Upon his battlements he stood, And downward gazed in joyous mood,    On Samos` Isle, that owned his sway, "All this is subject to my yoke;" To Egypt`s monarch thus he spoke,—    "That I am truly blest, then, say!" "The immortals` favor thou hast known! Thy sceptre`s might has overthrown    All those who once were like to thee. Yet to avenge them one lives still; I cannot call thee blest, until    That dreaded foe has ceased to be." While to these words the king gave vent, A herald from Miletus sent,    Appeared before the tyrant there: "Lord, let thy incense rise to-day, And with the laurel branches gay    Thou well may`st crown thy festive hair!" "Thy foe has sunk beneath the spear,— I`m sent to bear the glad news here,    By thy true marshal Polydore"— Then from a basin black he takes— The fearful sight their terror wakes—    A well-known head, besmeared with gore. The king with horror stepped aside, And then with anxious look replied:    "Thy bliss to fortune ne`er commit. On faithless waves, bethink thee how Thy fleet with doubtful fate swims now—    How soon the storm may scatter it!" But ere he yet had spoke the word, A shout of jubilee is heard    Resounding from the distant strand. With foreign treasures teeming o`er, The vessels` mast-rich wood once more    Returns home to its native land. The guest then speaks with startled mind: "Fortune to-day, in truth, seems kind;    But thou her fickleness shouldst fear: The Cretan hordes, well skilled, in arms, Now threaten thee with war`s alarms;    E`en now they are approaching here." And, ere the word has `scaped his lips, A stir is seen amongst the ships,    And thousand voices "Victory!" cry: "We are delivered from our foe, The storm has laid the Cretan low,    The war is ended, is gone by!" The shout with horror hears the guest: "In truth, I must esteem thee blest!    Yet dread I the decrees of heaven. The envy of the gods I fear; To taste of unmixed rapture here    Is never to a mortal given." "With me, too, everything succeeds; In all my sovereign acts and deeds    The grace of Heaven is ever by; And yet I had a well-loved heir— I paid my debt to fortune there—    God took him hence—I saw him die." "Wouldst thou from sorrow, then, be free. Pray to each unseen Deity,    For thy well-being, grief to send; The man on whom the Gods bestow Their gifts with hands that overflow,    Comes never to a happy end." "And if the Gods thy prayer resist, Then to a friend`s instruction list,—    Invoke thyself adversity; And what, of all thy treasures bright, Gives to thy heart the most delight—    That take and cast thou in the sea!" Then speaks the other, moved by fear: "This ring to me is far most dear    Of all this isle within it knows— I to the furies pledge it now, If they will happiness allow"—    And in the flood the gem he throws. And with the morrow`s earliest light, Appeared before the monarch`s sight    A fisherman, all joyously; "Lord, I this fish just now have caught, No net before e`er held the sort;    And as a gift I bring it thee." The fish was opened by the cook, Who suddenly, with wondering look,    Runs up, and utters these glad sounds: "Within the fish`s maw, behold, I`ve found, great lord, thy ring of gold!    Thy fortune truly knows no bounds!" The guest with terror turned away: "I cannot here, then, longer stay,—    My friend thou canst no longer be! The gods have willed that thou shouldst die: Lest I, too, perish, I must fly"—    He spoke,—and sailed thence hastily.
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