And therefore kept from me your demon's plot
Against Erminia. Silent ? Be so still ;
For ever! Speak no more ; but hear my words,
Thy fate. Your safety I have bought to-day
By blazoning a lie, which in the dawn
I'll expiate with truth.
Auranthe.

O cruel traitor !
Albert. For I would not set eyes upon thy

shame;
I would not see thee dragg'd to death by the hair,
Penanced, and taunted on a scaffolding !
To-night, upon the skirts of the blind wood
That blackens northward of these horrid towers,
I wait for

you
with horses. Choose

your fate. Farewell !

Auranthe. Albert, you jest; I'm sure you must. You, an ambitious Soldier! I, a Queen, One who could say,-here, rule these Provinces ! Take tribute from those cities for thyself! Empty these armouries, these treasuries, Muster thy warlike thousands at a nod ! Go! conquer Italy ! Albert.

Auranthe, you have made The whole world chaff to me. Your doom is fix'd.

Auranthe. Out, villain ! dastard !
Albert.

Look there to the door! Who is it?

Conrad, traitor!

Auranthe.
Albert.

Let him in.

Enter CONRAD.

Do not affect amazement, hypocrite,
At seeing me in this chamber.
Conrad.

Auranthe?
Albert. Talk not with eyes, but speak your curses out
Against me, who would sooner crush and grind
A brace of toads, than league with them t' oppress
An innocent lady, gull an Emperor,
More generous to me than autumn-sun
To ripening harvests.
Auranthe.

No more insult, sir. Albert. Ay, clutch your scabbard; but, for prudence

sake, Draw not the sword; 'twould make an uproar, Duke, You would not hear the end of. At nightfall Your lady sister, if I guess aright, Will leave this busy castle. You had best Take farewell too of worldly vanities.

Conrad. Vassal!

Albert. Tomorrow, when the Emperor sends
For loving Conrad, see you fawn on him.
Good even !

Auranthe. You 'll be seen!
Albert.

See the coast clear then.

Auranthe (as he goes). Remorseless Albert ! Cruel, cruel wretch !

[She lets him out. Conrad. So, we must lick the dust? Auranthe.

I follow him. Conrad. How? Where? The plan of your escape? Auranthe.

He waits For me with horses by the forest-side, Northward.

Conrad. Good, good ; he dies. You go, say you ? Auranthe. Perforce.

Conrad. Be speedy, darkness! Till that comes, Fiends keep you company!

[Exit. Auranthe.

And you! And you ! And all men! Vanish!

[Retires to an inner apartment.

SCENE II.-An Apartment in the Castle.

Enter LUDOLPH and Page. Page. Still very sick, my lord; but now I went, And there her women, in a mournful throng, Stood in the passage whispering; if any Moved, 'twas with careful steps, and hush'd death: They bade me stop.

as

Ludolph.

Good fellow, once again
Make soft inquiry; pr’ythee, be not stay'd
By any hindrance, but with gentlest force
Break through her weeping servants, till thou com'st
E'en to her chamber-door, and there, fair boy, -
If with thy mother's milk thou hast suck'd in
Any divine eloquence,-woo her ears
With plaints for me, more tender than the voice
Of dying Echo, echoed.
Page.

Kindest master!
To know thee sad thus, will unloose my tongue
In mournful syllables. Let but my words reach
Her ears, and she shall take them coupled with
Moans from my heart, and sighs not counterfeit.
May I speed better !

[Exit Page.
Ludolph (solus). Auranthe! My life!
Long have I loved thee, yet till now not loved :
Remembering, as I do, hard-hearted times
When I had heard e'en of thy death perhaps,
And thoughtless !-suffer'd thee to pass alone
Into Elysium !-now I follow thee,
A substance or a shadow, wheresoe'er
Thou leadest me,—whether thy white feet press,
With pleasant weight, the amorous-aching earth,
Or thro' the air thou pioneerest me,
A shade! Yet sadly I predestinate !

0, unbenignest Love, why wilt thou let
Darkness steal out upon the sleepy world
So wearily, as if night's chariot-wheels
Were clogg'd in some thick cloud ? O, changeful

Love,
Let not her steeds with drowsy-footed pace
Pass the high stars, before sweet embassage
Comes from the pillow'd beauty of that fair
Completion of all delicate Nature's wit!
Pout her faint lips anew with rubious health ;
And, with thine infant fingers, lift the fringe
Of her sick eye-lids; that those eyes may glow
With wooing light upon me, ere the morn
Peers with disrelish, grey, barren, and cold !

[Enter GERSA and Courtiers.
Otho calls me his Lion,-should I blush
To be so tamed ? so—
Gersa.

Do me the courtesy, Gentlemen, to pass on. 1st Knight.

We are your servants.

[Exeunt Courtiers. Ludolph. It seems then, sir, you have found out

the man You would confer with ;-me? Gersa.

If I break not Too much upon your thoughtful mood, I will Claim a brief while your patience.