Countess monologue (Act 3) — The Piccolomini: A Play

Thou seest it with a lovelorn maiden's eyes, Cast thine eye round, bethink thee who thou art;-- Into no house of joyance hast thou stepped, For no espousals dost thou find the walls Decked out, no guests the nuptial garland wearing; Here is no splendor but of arms. Or thinkest thou That all these thousands are here congregated To lead up the long dances at thy wedding! Thou see'st thy father's forehead full of thought, Thy mother's eye in tears: upon the balance Lies the great destiny of all our house. Leave now the puny wish, the girlish feeling; Oh, thrust it far behind thee! Give thou proof Thou'rt the daughter of the mighty--his Who where he moves creates the wonderful. Not to herself the woman must belong, Annexed and bound to alien destinies. But she performs the best part, she the wisest, Who can transmute the alien into self, Meet and disarm necessity by choice; And what must be, take freely to her heart, And bear and foster it with mother's love.