"I should be a pitiful bungler indeed, if I knew not yet how to tear a son from the heart of his father, were they link'd together with chains of iron."
— Tytler, Alexander Fraser (1747-1813); Schiller (1759-1805)
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for G. G. J. & J. Robinsons
Date
1792
Metaphor
"I should be a pitiful bungler indeed, if I knew not yet how to tear a son from the heart of his father, were they link'd together with chains of iron."
Metaphor in Context
FRANCIS
(Looking at him with an air of mockery.)
Ay, be comforted, my good dotard. Never more shall you press your darling to your bosom;--no, there is a gulph between--distant as heaven from hell.-- He was torn for ever from your arms, before you knew it was possible you ever could have wished it.--These papers must not be seen;--that might be dangerous--if the hand-writing were known.
(He gathers up all the scraps of paper.)
--I should be a pitiful bungler indeed, if I knew not yet how to tear a son from the heart of his father, were they link'd together with chains of iron. --Courage my boy! the favourite's removed;-- that's a giant's step.--But there is another heart, from which I must tear that image; ay, were that heart to break for it.--
(He walks with a striding step across the stage.)
I have a heavy debt of hatred against Nature, and by my soul! I'll make it good.--Why was that hideous burden of deformity laid upon me alone;--of all my race, on me alone?
(Stamps with his foot!)
Hell and damnation! on me alone;--as if she had formed me only of the scum, the very refuse of her stuff! She damn'd me from my birth! And here I swear eternal enmity against her--I'll blast her fairest works.--What are to me the ties of kindred! I'll burst those trammels of affection,--bonds of the soul.--I never knew their force:--She denied me the sweet play of the heart, and all its persuasive eloquence.--What must its place supply? Imperious force;--henceforth be that the only servant of my wishes,--and all shall yield before me.
(Looking at him with an air of mockery.)
Ay, be comforted, my good dotard. Never more shall you press your darling to your bosom;--no, there is a gulph between--distant as heaven from hell.-- He was torn for ever from your arms, before you knew it was possible you ever could have wished it.--These papers must not be seen;--that might be dangerous--if the hand-writing were known.
(He gathers up all the scraps of paper.)
--I should be a pitiful bungler indeed, if I knew not yet how to tear a son from the heart of his father, were they link'd together with chains of iron. --Courage my boy! the favourite's removed;-- that's a giant's step.--But there is another heart, from which I must tear that image; ay, were that heart to break for it.--
(He walks with a striding step across the stage.)
I have a heavy debt of hatred against Nature, and by my soul! I'll make it good.--Why was that hideous burden of deformity laid upon me alone;--of all my race, on me alone?
(Stamps with his foot!)
Hell and damnation! on me alone;--as if she had formed me only of the scum, the very refuse of her stuff! She damn'd me from my birth! And here I swear eternal enmity against her--I'll blast her fairest works.--What are to me the ties of kindred! I'll burst those trammels of affection,--bonds of the soul.--I never knew their force:--She denied me the sweet play of the heart, and all its persuasive eloquence.--What must its place supply? Imperious force;--henceforth be that the only servant of my wishes,--and all shall yield before me.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "heart" and "iron" in HDIS (Drama)
Citation
10 entries in ESTC (1792, 1793, 1795, 1797, 1799, 1800).
See The Robbers. A Tragedy. Translated from the German of Frederick Schiller. (London: Printed for G. G. J. & J. Robinsons, 1792). <Link to ESTC>
See The Robbers. A Tragedy. Translated from the German of Frederick Schiller. (London: Printed for G. G. J. & J. Robinsons, 1792). <Link to ESTC>
Date of Entry
06/08/2005
Date of Review
05/26/2011
