Otho the Great

by Keats · Cluster: Blood · Verse Drama · Revenge

Abstract

A five-act verse tragedy set in the court of Otho I, driven by Conrad’s and the femme fatale Auranthe’s intrigue, deception, and ambition, ending in betrayal, the prince Ludolph’s madness, and death.

Connections

Topoi: Combat Strife Archetypes: Femme Fatale, Villain, King, Tragic Hero Motifs: Concealment Hidden Identity, Madness (2), Swords and Weapons, Food and Feasting, Crown Themes & Concepts: Ambition, Deception, Appearance vs Reality, Power and Corruption, Madness, Revenge, Lust Sexual Desire, Kingship and Legitimacy Forms & Genres: Verse Drama, Tragedy, Blank Verse Settings: Court, Castle

Testo integrale / Full text

OTHO THE GREAT A TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS Written in 1819, this play was critically damned for many years and was only performed for the first time in 1950.

Otto I (912–973), the founder of the Holy Roman Empire

CONTENTS DRAMATIS PERSONS ACT I. SCENE I. SCENE II. SCENE III. ACT II. SCENE I. SCENE II. ACT III. SCENE I. SCENE II. ACT IV. SCENE I. SCENE II. ACT V. SCENE I. SCENE II. SCENE III. SCENE IV. SCENE V.

DRAMATIS PERSONS OTHO THE GREAT, Emperor of Germany. LUDOLPH, his Son. CONRAD, Duke of Franconia. ALBERT, a Knight, favoured by Otho. SIGIFRED, an Officer, friend of Ludolph. THEODORE,  an Officer GONFRED,  an Officer ETHELBERT. an Abbot. GERSA, Prince of Hungary. An Hungarian Captain. Physician. Page. Nobles, Knights, Attendants, and Soldiers. ERMINIA, Niece of Otho. AURANTHE, Conrad’s Sister. Ladies and Attendants.

SCENE. The Castle of Friedburg, its vicinity, and the Hungarian Camp. TIME. One Day.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	An Apartment in the Castle. Enter CONRAD.
Conrad	So, I am safe emerged from these broils! Amid the wreck of thousands I am whole; For every crime I have a laurel-wreath, For every lie a lordship. Nor yet has My ship of fortune furl’d her silken sails, Let her glide on! This danger’d neck is saved, By dexterous policy, from the rebel’s axe; And of my ducal palace not one stone Is bruised by the Hungarian petards. Toil hard, ye slaves, and from the miser-earth Bring forth once more my bullion, treasured deep, With ah  my jewell’d salvers, silver and gold, And precious goblets that make rich the wine. But why do I stand babbling to myself? Where is Auranthe? I have news for her Shall-
(didascalia)	Enter AURANTHE.
Auranthe	Conrad! what tidings? Good, if I may guess From your alert eyes and high-lifted brows. What tidings of the battle? Albert? Ludolph? Otho?
Conrad	You guess aright. And, sister, slurring o’er Our by-gone quarrels, I confess my heart Is beating with a child’s anxiety, To make our golden fortune known to you.
Auranthe	So serious?
Conrad	Yes, so serious, that before I utter even the shadow of a hint Concerning what will make that sin-worn cheek Blush joyous blood through every lineament, You must make here a solemn vow to me.
Auranthe	I prythee, Conrad, do not overact The hypocrite what vow would you impose?
Conrad	Trust me for once, that you may be assured ’Tis not confiding to a broken reed, A poor Court-bankrupt, outwitted and lost, Revolve these facts in your acutest mood, In such a mood as now you listen to me: A few days since, I was an open rebel Against the Emperor, had suborn’d his son, Drawn off his nobles to revolt, and shown Contented fools causes for discontent Fresh hatch’d in my ambition’s eagle nest So thrived I as a rebel, and behold Now I am Otho’s favourite, his dear friend, His right hand, his brave Conrad.
Auranthe	I confess You have intrigued with these unsteady times To admiration; but to be a favourite
Conrad	I saw my moment. The Hungarians, Collected silently in holes and corners, Appeared, a sudden host, in the open day. I should have perish’d in our empire’s wreck, But, calling interest loyalty, swore faith To most believing Otho; and so helped His blood-stained ensigns to the victory In yesterday’s hard fight, that it has turn’d The edge of his sharp wrath to eager kindness.
Auranthe	So far yourself. But what is this to me More than that I am glad? I gratulate you.
Conrad	Yes, sister, but it does regard you greatly, Nearly, momentously, aye, painfully! Make me this vow
Auranthe	Concerning whom or what?
Conrad	Albert!
Auranthe	I would inquire somewhat of him: You had a letter from me touching him? No treason ‘gainst his head in deed or word! Surely you spar’d him at my earnest prayer? Give me the letter it should not exist!
Conrad	At one pernicious charge of the enemy, I, for a moment-whiles, was prisoner ta’en And rifled, stuff! the horses’ hoofs have minc’d it!
Auranthe	He is alive?
Conrad	He is! but here make oath To alienate him from your scheming brain, Divorce him from your solitary thoughts, And cloud him in such utter banishment, That when his person meets again your eye, Your vision shall quite lose its memory, And wander past him as through vacancy.
Auranthe	I’ll not be perjured.
Conrad	No, nor great, nor mighty; You would not wear a crown, or rule a kingdom. To you it is indifferent.
Auranthe	What means this?
Conrad	You’ll not be perjured! Go to Albert then, That camp-mushroom dishonour of our house. Go, page his dusty heels upon a march, Furbish his jingling baldric while he sleeps, And share his mouldy ration in a siege. Yet stay, perhaps a charm may call you back, And make the widening circlets of your eyes Sparkle with healthy fevers. The Emperor Hath given consent that you should marry Ludolph!
Auranthe	Can it be, brother? For a golden crown With a queen’s awful lips I doubly thank you! This is to wake in Paradise ! Farewell Thou clod of yesterday ’twas not myself! Not till this moment did I ever feel My spirit’s faculties! I’ll flatter you For this, and be you ever proud of it; Thou, Jove-like, struck’dst thy forehead, And from the teeming marrow of thy brain I spring complete Minerva! But the prince His highness Ludolph where is he?
Conrad	I know not: When, lackeying my counsel at a beck, The rebel lords, on bended knees, received The Emperor’s pardon, Ludolph kept aloof, Sole, in a stiff, fool-hardy, sulky pride; Yet, for all this, I never saw a father In such a sickly longing for his son. We shall soon see him, for the Emperor He will be here this morning.
Auranthe	That I heard Among the midnight rumours from the camp.
Conrad	You give up Albert to me?
Auranthe	Harm him not! E’en for his highness Ludolph’s sceptry hand, I would not Albert suffer any wrong.
Conrad	Have I not laboured, plotted ?
Auranthe	See you spare him: Nor be pathetic, my kind benefactor, On all the many bounties of your hand, ’Twas for yourself you laboured not for me! Do you not count, when I am queen, to take Advantage of your chance discoveries Of my poor secrets, and so hold a rod Over my life?
Conrad	Let not this slave this villain Be cause of feud between us. See! he comes! Look, woman, look, your Albert is quite safe! In haste it seems. Now shall I be in the way, And wish’d with silent curses in my grave, Or side by side with ‘whelmed mariners.
(didascalia)	Enter ALBERT.
Albert	Fair on your graces fall this early morrow! So it is like to do, without my prayers, For your right noble names, like favourite tunes, Have fallen full frequent from our Emperor’s lips, High commented with smiles.
Auranthe	Noble Albert!
Conrad	Noble!
Auranthe	Such salutation argues a glad heart In our prosperity. We thank you, sir.
Albert	Lady! O, would to Heaven your poor servant Could do you better service than mere words! But I have other greeting than mine own, From no less man than Otho, who has sent This ring as pledge of dearest amity; ’Tis chosen I hear from Hymen’s jewel’ry, And you will prize it, lady, I doubt not, Beyond all pleasures past, and all to come. To you great duke
Conrad	To me! What of me, ha?
Albert	What pleas’d your grace to say?
Conrad	Your message, sir!
Albert	You mean not this to me?
Conrad	Sister, this way; For there shall be no ‘‘‘gentle Alberts” now, [Aside. No “sweet Auranthes!” [Exeunt CONRAD and AURANTHE.
Albert	The duke is out of temper; if he knows More than a brother of a sister ought, I should not quarrel with his peevishness. Auranthe Heaven preserve her always fair! Is in the heady, proud, ambitious vein; I bicker not with her, bid her farewell! She has taken flight from me, then let her soar, He is a fool who stands at pining gaze! But for poor Ludolph, he is food for sorrow: No levelling bluster of my licens’d thoughts, No military swagger of my mind, Can smother from myself the wrong I’ve done him, Without design, indeed, yet it is so, And opiate for the conscience have I none! [Exit.

SCENE II.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The Court-yard of the Castle.
(didascalia)	Enter, from the outer gate, OTHO, Nobles, Knights, and
Attendants	The Soldiers halt at the gate, with Banners in sight.
Otho	Where is my noble herald?
(didascalia)	Enter CONRAD, from the Castle, attended by two Knights and
Servants	ALBERT following. Well, hast told Auranthe our intent imperial? Lest our rent banners, too o’ the sudden shown, Should fright her silken casements, and dismay Her household to our lack of entertainment. A victory!
Conrad	God save illustrious Otho!
Otho	Aye, Conrad, it will pluck out all grey hairs; It is the best physician for the spleen; The courtliest inviter to a feast; The subtlest excuser of small faults; And a nice judge in the age and smack of wine.
(didascalia)	Enter, from the Castle, AURANTHE, followed by Pages holdingup her robes, and a tram of Women. She kneels.
Otho	Hail my sweet hostess! I do thank the stars, Or my good soldiers, or their ladies’ eyes, That, after such a merry battle fought, I can, all safe in body and in soul, Kiss your fair hand and lady fortune’s too. My ring! now, on my life, it doth rejoice These lips to feel ‘t on this soft ivory! Keep it, my brightest daughter; it may prove The little prologue to a line of kings. I strove against thee and my hot-blood son, Dull blockhead that I was to be so blind, But now my sight is clear; forgive me, lady.
Auranthe	My lord, I was a vassal to your frown, And now your favour makes me but more humble; In wintry winds the simple snow is safe, But fadeth at the greeting of the sun: Unto thine anger I might well have spoken, Taking on me a woman’s privilege, But this so sudden kindness makes me dumb.
Otho	What need of this? Enough, if you will be A potent tutoress to my wayward boy, And teach him, what it seems his nurse could not To say, for once, I thank you. Sigifred!
Albert	He has not yet return’d, my gracious liege.
Otho	What then! No tidings of my friendly Arab?
Conrad	None, mighty Otho. [To one of his Knights, who goes out. Send forth instantly An hundred horsemen from my honoured gates, To scour the plains and search the cottages. Cry a reward, to him who shall first bring News of that vanished Arabian, A full-heap’d helmet of the purest gold.
Otho	More thanks, good Conrad; for, except my son’s, There is no face I rather would behold Than that same quick-eyed pagan’s. By the saints, This coming night of banquets must not light Her dazzling torches; nor the music breathe Smooth, without clashing cymbal, tones of peace And in-door melodies; nor the ruddy wine Ebb spouting to the lees; if I pledge not In my first cup, that Arab!
Albert	Mighty Monarch, I wonder not this stranger’s victor-deeds So, hang upon your spirit. Twice in the fight It was my chance to meet his olive brow, Triumphant in the enemy’s shatter ‘d rhomb; And, to say truth, in any Christian arm I never saw such prowess.
Otho	Did you ever? O, ’tis a noble boy! tut! what do I say? I mean a triple Saladin, whose eyes, When in the glorious scuffle they met mine, Seem’d to say “Sleep, old man, in safety sleep; I am the victory!”
Conrad	Pity he’s not here.
Otho	And my son too, pity he is not here. Lady Auranthe, I would not make you blush, But can you give a guess where Ludolph is? Know you not of him?
Auranthe	Indeed, my liege, no secret
Otho	Nay, nay, without more words, dost know of him?
Auranthe	I would I were so over-fortunate, Both for his sake and mine, and to make glad A father’s ears with tidings of his son.
Otho	I see ’tis like to be a tedious day. Were Theodore and Gonfred and the rest Sent forth with my commands?
Albert	Aye, my lord.
Otho	And no news! No news! ‘Faith! ’tis very strange He thus avoids us. Lady, is’t not strange? Will he be truant to you too? It is a shame.
Conrad	Will ‘t please your highness enter, and accept The unworthy welcome of your servant’s house? Leaving your cares to one whose diligence May in few hours make pleasures of them all.
Otho	Not so tedious, Conrad. No, no, no, I must see Ludolph or the What’s that shout! Voices without. Huzza! huzza! Long live the Emperor!
Other Voices	Fall back! Away there!
Otho	Say, what noise is that? [ALBERT advancing from the bark of the Stage, whither he had hastened on hearing the cheers of the soldiery.
Albert	It is young Gersa, the Hungarian prince, Pick’d like a red stag from the fallow herd Of prisoners. Poor prince, forlorn he steps, Slow, and demure, and proud in his despair. If I may judge by his so tragic bearing, His eye not downcast, and his folded arm, He doth this moment wish himself asleep Among his fallen captains on yon plains.
(didascalia)	Enter GERSA, in chains, and guarded,
Otho	Well said, Sir Albert.
Gersa	Not a word of greeting. No welcome to a princely visitor, Most mighty Otho? Will not my great host Vouchsafe a syllable, before he bids His gentlemen conduct me with all care To some securest lodgings? cold perhaps!
Otho	What mood is this? Hath fortune touch’d thy brain?
Gersa	kings and princes of this fev’rous world, What abject things, what mockeries must ye be, What nerveless minions of safe palaces! When here, a monarch, whose proud foot is used To fallen princes’ necks, as to his stirrup, Must needs exclaim that I am mad forsooth, Because I cannot flatter with bent knees My conqueror!
Otho	Gersa, I think you wrong me: I think I have a better fame abroad.
Gersa	I prythee mock me not with gentle speech, But, as a favour, bid me from thy presence; Let me no longer be the wondering food Of all these eyes; prythee command me hence!
Otho	Do not mistake me, Gersa. That you may not, Come, fair Auranthe, try if your soft hands Can manage those hard rivets to set free So brave a prince and soldier.
Auranthe	Welcome task!
Gersa	I am wound up in deep astonishment! Thank you, fair lady. Otho! emperor! You rob me of myself; my dignity Is now your infant; I am a weak child.
Otho	Give me your hand, and let this kindly grasp Live in our memories.
Gersa	In mine it will. I blush to think of my unchasten’d tongue; But I was haunted by the monstrous ghost Of all our slain battalions. Sire, reflect, And pardon you will grant, that, at this hour, The bruised remnants of our stricken camp Are huddling undistinguish’d my dear friends, With common thousands, into shallow graves.
Otho	Enough, most noble Gersa. You are free To cheer the brave remainder of your host By your own healing presence, and that too, Not as their leader merely, but their king; For, as I hear, the wily enemy, Who eas’d the crownet from your infant brows, Bloody Taraxa, is among the dead.
Gersa	Then I retire, so generous Otho please, Bearing with me a weight of benefits Too heavy to be borne.
Otho	It is not so; Still understand me, King of Hungary, Nor judge my open purposes awry. Though I did hold you high in my esteem For your self’s sake, I do not personate The stage-play emperor to entrap applause, To set the silly sort o’ the world agape, And make the politic smile; no, I have heard How in the Council you condemn ‘d this war, Urging the perfidy of broken faith, For that I am your friend.
Gersa	If ever, sire, You are mine enemy, I dare here swear ‘Twill not be Gersa’s fault. Otho, farewell!
Otho	Will you return, Prince, to our banqueting?
Gersa	As to my father’s board I will return.
Otho	Conrad, with all due ceremony, give The prince a regal escort to his camp; Albert, go thou and bear him company. Gersa, farewell!
Gersa	All happiness attend you!
Otho	Return with what good speed you may; for soon We must consult upon our terms of peace. [Exeunt GERSA and ALBERT with others. And thus a marble column do I build To prop my empire’s dome. Conrad, in thee I have another stedfast one, to uphold The portals of my state; and, for my own Pre-eminence and safety, I will strive To keep thy strength upon its pedestal. For, without thee, this day I might have been A show-monster about the streets of Prague, In chains, as just now stood that noble prince: And then to me no mercy had been shown, For when the conquered lion is once dungeon’d, Who lets him forth again? or dares to give An old lion sugar-cates of mild reprieve? Not to thine ear alone I make confession, But to all here, as, by experience, I know how the great basement of all power Is frankness, and a true tongue to the world; And how intriguing secrecy is proof Of fear and weakness, and a hollow state. Conrad, I owe thee much.
Conrad	To kiss that hand, My emperor, is ample recompense, For a mere act of duty.
Otho	Thou art wrong; For what can any man on earth do more? We will make trial of your house’s welcome, My bright Auranthe!
Conrad	How is Friedburg honoured!
(didascalia)	Enter ETHELBERT and six Monks.
Ethelbert	The benison of heaven on your head, Imperial Otho!
Otho	Who stays me? Speak! Quick!
Ethelbert	Pause but one moment, mighty conqueror Upon the threshold of this house of joy.
Otho	Pray, do not prose, good Ethelbert, but speak What is your purpose.
Ethelbert	The restoration of some captive maids, Devoted to Heaven’s pious ministries, Who, being driven from their religious cells, And kept in thraldom by our enemy, When late this province was a lawless spoil, Still weep amid the wild Hungarian camp, Though hemm’d around by thy victorious arms.
Otho	Demand the holy sisterhood in our name From Gersa’s tents. Farewell, old Ethelbert.
Ethelbert	The saints will bless you for this pious care.
Otho	Daughter, your hand; Ludolph’s would fit it best.
Conrad	Ho ! let the music sound ! [Music. ETHELBERT raises his hands, as in benediction of OTHO.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally. The scene closes on them.

SCENE III.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The Country, with the Castle in the distance.
(didascalia)	Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.
Ludolph	You have my secret; let it not be breath ‘d.
Sigifred	Still give me leave to wonder that the Prince Ludolph and the swift Arab are the same ; Still to rejoice that ’twas a German arm Death doing in a turban’d masquerade.
Ludolph	The Emperor must not know it, Sigifred.
Sigifred	I prythee, why? What happier hour of time Could thy pleas’d star point down upon from heaven With silver index, bidding thee make peace?
Ludolph	Still it must not be known, good Sigifred; The star may point oblique.
Sigifred	If Otho knew His son to be that unknown Mussulman After whose spurring heels he sent me forth, With one of his well-pleas’d Olympian oaths, The charters of man’s greatness, at this hour He would be watching round the castle walls, And, like an anxious warder, strain his sight For the first glimpse of such a son return ‘d Ludolph, that blast of the Hungarians, That Saracenic meteor of the fight, That silent fury, whose fell Scymitar Kept danger all aloof from Otho’s head, And left him space for wonder.
Ludolph	Say no more. Not as a swordsman would I pardon claim, But as a son. The bronz’d centurion, Long toil’d in foreign wars, and whose high deeds Are shaded in a forest of tall spears, Known only to his troop, hath greater plea Of favour with my sire than I can have.
Sigifred	My lord, forgive me that I cannot see How this proud temper with clear reason squares. What made you then, with such an anxious love, Hover around that life, whose bitter days You vext with bad revolt? Was ‘t opium, Or the mad-fumed wine? Nay, do not frown, I rather would grieve with you than upbraid.
Ludolph	I do believe you. No, ’twas not to make A father his son’s debtor, or to heal His deep heart-sickness for a rebel child. Twas done in memory of my boyish days, Poor cancel for his kindness to my youth, For all his calming of my childish griefs, And all his smiles upon my merriment. No, not a thousand foughten fields could sponge Those days paternal from my memory, Though now upon my head he heaps disgrace.
Sigifred	My Prince, you think too harshly
Ludolph	Can I so? Hath he not gall’d my spirit to the quick? And with a sullen rigour obstinate Pour’d out a phial of wrath upon my faults? Hunted me as the Tartar does the boar, Driven me to the very edge o’ the world, And almost put a price upon my head?
Sigifred	Remember how he spar’d the rebel lords.
Ludolph	Yes, yes, I know he hath a noble nature That cannot trample on the fallen. But his Is not the only proud heart in his realm. He hath wrong’d me, and I have done him wrong; He hath lov’d me, and I have shown him kindness; We should be almost equal.
Sigifred	Yet, for all this, I would you had appear ‘d among those lords, And ta’en his favour.
Ludolph	Ha! till now I thought My friend had held poor Ludolph’s honour dear. What ! would you have me sue before his throne And kiss the courtier’s missal, its silk steps? Or hug the golden housings of his steed, Amid a camp, whose steeled swarms I dar’d But yesterday? And, at the trumpet sound, Bow like some unknown mercenary’s flag, And lick the soiled grass? No, no, my friend, I would not, I, be pardon’d in the heap, And bless indemnity with all that scum, Those men I mean, who on my shoulders propped Their weak rebellion, winning me with lies, And pitying forsooth my many wrongs; Poor self-deceived wretches, who must think Each one himself a king in embryo, Because some dozen vassals cry’d my lord! Cowards, who never knew their little hearts, Till flurried danger held the mirror up, And then they own’d themselves without a blush, Curling, like spaniels, round my father’s feet. Such things deserted me and are forgiven, While I, least guilty, am an outcast still, And will be, for I love such fair disgrace.
Sigifred	I know the clear truth; so would Otho see, For he is just and noble. Fain would I Be pleader for you
Ludolph	He’ll hear none of it; You know his temper, hot, proud, obstinate; Endanger not yourself so uselessly. I will encounter his thwart spleen myself, To-day, at the Duke Conrad’s, where he keeps His crowded state after the victory. There will I be, a most unwelcome guest, And parley with him, as a son should do, Who doubly loathes a father’s tyranny; Tell him how feeble is that tyranny; How the relationship of father and son Is no more valid than a silken leash Where lions tug adverse, if love grow not From interchanged love through many years. Aye, and those turreted Franconian walls, Like to a jealous casket, hold my pearl My fair Auranthe! Yes, I will be there.
Sigifred	Be not so rash; wait till his wrath shall pass, Until his royal spirit softly ebbs Self-influenced ; then, in his morning dreams He will forgive thee, and awake in grief To have not thy good morrow.
Ludolph	Yes, to-day I must be there, while her young pulses beat Among the new-plum’d minions of the war. Have you seen her of late? No? Auranthe, Franconia’s fair sister, ’tis I mean. She should be paler for my troublous days And there it is my father’s iron lips Have sworn divorcement ‘twixt me and my right.
Sigifred	Auranthe! I had hop’d this whim had pass’d.
Ludolph	And, Sigifred, with all his love of justice, When will he take that grandchild in his arms, That, by my love I swear, shall soon be his? This reconcilement is impossible, For see but who are these?
Sigifred	They are messengers From our great emperor; to you, I doubt not, For couriers are abroad to seek you out.
(didascalia)	Enter THEODORE and GONFRED.
Theodore	Seeing so many vigilant eyes explore The province to invite your highness back To your high dignities, we are too happy.
Gonfred	We have no eloquence to colour justly The emperor’s anxious wishes.
Go	I follow you. [Exeunt THEODORE and GONFRED. I play the prude : it is but venturing Why should he be so earnest? Come, my friend, Let us to Friedburg castle.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	An Ante-chamber in the Castle.
(didascalia)	Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.
Ludolph	No more advices, no more cautioning: I leave it all to fate to any thing! I cannot square my conduct to time, place, Or circumstances; to me ’tis all a mist!
Sigifred	I say no more.
Ludolph	It seems I am to wait Here in the ante-room; that may be a trifle. You see now how I dance attendance here, Without that tyrant temper, you so blame, Snapping the rein. You have medicin’d me With good advices; and I here remain, In this most honourable ante-room, Your patient scholar.
Sigifred	Do not wrong me, Prince. By Heavens, I’d rather kiss Duke Conrad’s slipper, When in the morning he doth yawn with pride, Than see you humbled but a half-degree! Truth is, the Emperor would fain dismiss The nobles ere he sees you.
(didascalia)	Enter GONFRED from the Council-room.
Ludolph	Well, sir! What?
Gonfred	Great honour to the Prince! The Emperor, Hearing that his brave son had re-appeared, Instant dismiss ‘d the Council from his sight, As Jove fans off the clouds. Even now they pass. [Exit.
(didascalia)	Enter the Nobles from the Council-room. They cross the stage,
Gonfred	bowing unth respect to LUDOLPH, he frowning on them. CONRAD follows. Exeunt Nobles.
Ludolph	Not the discoloured poisons of a fen, Which he who breathes feels warning of his death, Could taste so nauseous to the bodily sense, As these prodigious sycophants disgust The soul’s fine palate.
Conrad	Princely Ludolph, hail! Welcome, thou younger sceptre to the realm! Strength to thy virgin crownet’s golden buds, That they, against the winter of thy sire, May burst, and swell, and flourish round thy brows, Maturing to a weighty diadem! Yet be that hour far off; and may he live, Who waits for thee, as the chapp’d earth for rain. Set my life’s star! I have lived long enough, Since under my glad roof, propitiously, Father and son each other re-possess.
Ludolph	Fine wording, Duke! but words could never yet Forestall the fates; have you not learnt that yet? Let me look well: your features are the same; Your gait the same; your hair of the same shade; As one I knew some passed weeks ago, Who sung far different notes into mine ears. I have mine own particular comments on ‘t; You have your own, perhaps.
Conrad	My gracious Prince, All men may err. In truth I was deceived In your great father’s nature, as you were. Had I known that of him I have since known, And what you soon will learn, I would have turned My sword to my own throat, rather than held Its threatening edge against a good King’s quiet: Or with one word fever’d you, gentle Prince, Who seem’d to me, as rugged times then went, Indeed too much oppress’d. May I be bold To tell the Emperor you will haste to him?
Ludolph	Your Dukedom’s privilege will grant so much. [Exit CONRAD He’s very close to Otho, a tight leech! Your hand I go. Ha! here the thunder comes Sullen against the wind! If in two angry brows My safety lies, then Sigifred, I’m safe.
(didascalia)	Enter OTHO and CONRAD.
Otho	Will you make Titan play the lackey-page & To chattering pigmies? I would have you know That such neglect of our high Majesty Annuls all feel of kindred. What is son, Or friend, or brother, or all ties of blood, When the whole kingdom, centred in ourself, Is rudely slighted ? Who am I to wait ? By Peter’s chair! I have upon my tongue A word to fright the proudest spirit here! Death! and slow tortures to the hardy fool, Who dares take such large charter from our smiles! Conrad, we would be private. Sigifred! Off! And none pass this way on pain of death! [Exeunt CONRAD and SIGIFRED,
Ludolph	This was but half expected, my good sire, Yet I am griev’d at it, to the full height, As though my hopes of favour had been whole.
Otho	How you indulge yourself! What can you hope for?
Ludolph	Nothing, my liege ; I have to hope for nothing. I come to greet you as a loving son, And then depart, if I may be so free, Seeing that blood of yours in my warm veins Has not yet mitigated into milk.
Otho	What would you, sir?
Ludolph	A lenient banishment; So please you let me unmolested pass This Conrad’s gates, to the wide air again. I want no more. A rebel wants no more.
Otho	And shall I let a rebel loose again To muster kites and eagles ‘gainst my head? No, obstinate boy, you shall be kept cag’d up, Serv’d with harsh food, with scum for Sunday-drink.
Ludolph	Indeed!
Otho	And chains too heavy for your life: I’ll choose a gaoler, whose swart monstrous face Shall be a hell to look upon, and she
Ludolph	Ha!
Otho	Shall be your fair Auranthe.
Ludolph	Amaze! Amaze!
Otho	To-day you marry her.
Ludolph	This is a sharp jest!
No	None at all. When have I said a lie?
Ludolph	If I sleep not, I am a waking wretch.
Otho	Not a word more. Let me embrace my child.
Ludolph	I dare not. ’Twould pollute so good a father! heavy crime! that your son’s blinded eyes Could not see all his parent’s love aright, As now I see it. Be not kind to me Punish me not with favour.
Otho	Are you sure, Ludolph, you have no saving plea in store?
Ludolph	My father, none!
Otho	Then you astonish me.
Ludolph	No, I have no plea. Disobedience, Rebellion, obstinacy, blasphemy, Are all my counsellors. If they can make My crooked deeds show good and plausible, Then grant me loving pardon, but not else, Good Gods! not else, in any way, my liege!
Otho	You are a most perplexing, noble boy.
Ludolph	You not less a perplexing noble father.
Otho	Well, you shall have free passport through the gates. Farewell!
Ludolph	Farewell! and by these tears believe, And still remember, I repent in pain All my misdeeds!
Otho	Ludolph, I will! I will! But, Ludolph, ere you go, I would enquire If you, in all your wandering, ever met A certain Arab haunting in these parts.
Ludolph	No, my good lord, I cannot say I did.
Otho	Make not your father blind before his time; Nor let these arms paternal hunger more For an embrace, to dull the appetite Of my great love for thee, my supreme child! Come close, and let me breathe into thine ear. knew you through disguise. You are the Arab! You can’t deny it. [Embracing him.
Ludolph	Happiest of days!
Otho	We’ll make it so.
Ludolph	‘Stead of one fatted calf Ten hecatombs shall bellow out their last, Smote ‘twixt the horns by the death-stunning mace Of Mars, and all the soldiery shall feast Nobly as Nimrod’s masons, when the towers Of Nineveh new kiss’d the parted clouds!
Otho	Large as a God speak out, where all is thine.
Ludolph	Aye, father, but the fire in my sad breast Is quench ‘d with inward tears! I must rejoice For you, whose wings so shadow over me In tender victory, but for myself I still must mourn. The fair Auranthe mine! Too great a boon! I prythee let me ask I What more than I know of could so have changed Your purpose touching her?
Otho	At a word, this: In no deed did you give me more offense Than your rejection of Erminia. To my appalling, I saw too good proof Of your keen-eyed suspicion, she is naught!
Ludolph	You are convinced?
Otho	Aye, spite of her sweet looks. O, that my brother’s daughter should so fall! Her fame has pass’d into the grosser lips Of soldiers in their cups.
Lndolph	’Tis very sad.
Otho	No more of her. Auranthe Ludolph, come! This marriage be the bond of endless peace! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The Entrance of GERSA’S Tent in the Hungarian Camp.
(didascalia)	Enter ERMINIA.
Erminia	Where! where! where shall I find a messenger? A trusty soul? A good man in the camp? Shall I go myself? Monstrous wickedness! O cursed Conrad devilish Auranthe! Here is proof palpable as the bright sun! O for a voice to reach the Emperor’s ears! [Shouts in the Camp.
(didascalia)	Enter an HUNGARIAN CAPTAIN.
Captain	Fair prisoner, hear you those joyous shouts? The king aye, now our king, but still your slave, Young Gersa, from a short captivity Has just return’d. He bids me say, bright Dame, That even the homage of his ranged chiefs Cures not his keen impatience to behold Such beauty once again. What ails you, lady?
Erminia	Say, is not that a German, yonder? There!
Captain	Methinks by his stout bearing he should be Yes ’tis one Albert; a brave German knight, And much in the emperor’s favour.
Erminia	I would fain Enquire of friends and kinsfolk; how they fared In these rough times. Brave soldier, as you pass To royal Gersa with my humble thanks, Will you send yonder knight to me?
Captain	I will. [Exit.
Ermina	Yes, he was ever known to be a man Frank, open, generous; Albert I may trust. proof! proof! proof! Albert’s an honest man; Not Ethelbert the monk, if he were here, Would I hold more trustworthy. Now!
(didascalia)	Enter ALBERT.
Albert	Good Gods! Lady Erminia! are you prisoner In this beleaguer ‘d camp? Or are you here Of your own will? You pleas’d to send for me. By Venus, ’tis a pity I knew not Your plight before, and, by her Son, I swear To do you every service you can ask. What would the fairest?
Erminia	Albert, will you swear?
Albert	I have. Well?
Erminia	Albert, you have fame to lose. If men, in court and camp, lie not outright, You should be, from a thousand, chosen forth To do an honest deed. Shall I confide?
Albert	Aye, anything to me, fair creature. Do; Dictate my task. Sweet woman,
Erminia	Truce with that. You understand me not; and, in your speech, see how far the slander is abroad. Without proof could you think me innocent?
Albert	Lady, I should rejoice to know you so.
Erminia	If you have any pity for a maid, Suffering a daily death from evil tongues; Any compassion for that Emperor’s niece, Who, for your bright sword and clear honesty, Lifted you from the crowd of common men Into the lap of honour; save me, knight!
Albert	How? Make it clear; if it be possible, I, by the banner of Saint Maurice, swear To right you.
Erminia	Possible! Easy. O my heart! This letter’s not so soil’d but you may read it; Possible! There that letter! Read read it, [Gives him a letter.
Albert	‘To the Duke Conrad. Forget the threat you made at parting, and I will forget to send the Emperor letters and papers of your’s I have become possessed of. His life is no trifle to me; his death you shall find none to yourself.’ (Speaks to himself ’Tis me my life that’s pleaded for! (Reads.) ‘He, for his own sake, will be dumb as the grave. Erminia has my shame fix’d upon her, sure as a wen. We are safe. AURANTHE.’A she-devil! A dragon! I her imp! Fire of Hell! Auranthe lewd demon! Where got you this? Where? When?
Erminia	I found it in the tent, among some spoils Which, being noble, fell to Gersa’s lot. Come in, and see. [They go in and return.
Albert	Villainy! Villainy! Conrad’s sword, his corslet, and his helm, And his letter. Caitiff, he shall feel
Erminia	I see you are thunderstruck. Haste, haste away!
Albert	O I am tortured by this villainy.
Erminia	You needs must be. Carry it swift to Otho; Tell him, moreover, I am prisoner Here in this camp, where all the sisterhood, Forc’d from their quiet cells, are parcell’d out For slaves among these Huns. Away! Away!
Albert	I am gone.
Erminia	Swift be your steed! Within this hour The Emperor will see it.
Albert	Ere I sleep: That I can swear. [Hurries out.
Gersa	Brave captains! thanks. Enough Of loyal homage now!
(didascalia)	Enter GERSA.
Erminia	Hail, royal Hun!
Gersa	What means this, fair one? Why in such alarm? Who was it hurried by me so distract? It seem’d you were in deep discourse together; Your doctrine has not been so harsh to him As to my poor deserts. Come, come, be plain. I am no jealous fool to kill you both, Or, for such trifles, rob the adorned world Of such a beauteous vestal.
Erminia	I grieve, my Lord, To hear you condescend to ribald phrase.
Gersa	This is too much! Hearken, my lady pure!
Erminia	Silence! and hear the magic of a name Erminia! I am she, the Emperor’s niece! Prais’d be the Heavens, I now dare own myself!
Gersa	Erminia! Indeed! I’ve heard of her. Prythee, fair lady, what chance brought you here?
Erminia	Ask your own soldiers.
Gersa	And you dare own your name. For loveliness you may and for the rest My vein is not censorious.
Erminia	Alas! poor me! ’Tis false indeed.
Gersa	Indeed you are too fair: the swan, soft leaning on her fledgy breast, When to the stream she launches, looks not back With such a tender grace ; nor are her wings So white as your soul is, if that but be Twin-picture to your face. Erminia! To-day, for the first day, I am a king, Yet would I give my unworn crown away To know you spotless.
Erminia	Trust me one day more, Generously, without more certain guarantee, Than this poor face you deign to praise so much; After that, say and do whate’er you please. If I have any knowledge of you, sir, I think, nay I am sure, you will grieve much To hear my story. O be gentle to me, For I am sick and faint with many wrongs, Tir’d out, and weary-worn with contumelies.
Gersa	Poor lady!
(didascalia)	Enter ETHELBERT.
Erminia	Gentle Prince, ’tis false indeed. Good morrow, holy father! I have had Your prayers, though I look’d for you in vain.
Ethelbert	Blessings upon you, daughter! Sure you look Too cheerful for these foul pernicious days. Young man, you heard this virgin say ’twas false, ’Tis false, I say. What! can you not employ Your temper elsewhere, ‘mong these burly tents, But you must taunt this dove, for she hath lost The Eagle Otho to beat off assault? Fie! fie! But I will be her guard myself; In the Emperor’s name. I here demand of you Herself, and all her sisterhood. She false!
Gersa	Peace! peace, old man! I cannot think she is.
Ethelbert	Whom I have known from her first infancy, Baptized her in the bosom of the Church, Watch’d her, as anxious husbandmen the grain, From the first shoot till the unripe mid-May, Then to the tender ear of her June days, Which, lifting sweet abroad its timid green, Is blighted by the touch of calumny; You cannot credit such a monstrous tale.
Gersa	I cannot. Take her. Fair Erminia, I follow you to Friedburg, is’t not so?
Erminia	Aye, so we purpose.
Ethelbert	Daughter, do you so? How’s this? I marvel! Yet you look not mad.
Erminia	I have good news to tell you, Ethelbert.
Gersa	Ho! ho, there! Guards! Your blessing, father! Sweet Erminia, Believe me, I am well nigh sure Erminia . Farewell! Short time will show. [Enter Chiefs. Yes, father Ethelbert, I have news precious as we pass along.
Ethelbert	Dear daughter, you shall guide me.
Erminia	To no ill.
Gersa	Command an escort to the Friedburg lines. [Exeunt Chiefs. Pray let me lead. Fair lady, forget not Gersa, how he believ’d you innocent. I follow you to Friedburg with all speed. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The Country.
(didascalia)	Enter ALBERT.
Albert	O that the earth were empty, as when Cain Had no perplexity to hide his head! Or that the sword of some brave enemy Had put a sudden stop to my hot breath, And hurl’d me down the illimitable gulph Of times past, unremember’d! Better so Than thus fast-limed in a cursed snare, The white limbs of a wanton. This the end Of an aspiring life! My boyhood past In feud with wolves and bears, when no eye saw The solitary warfare, fought for love Of honour ‘mid the growling wilderness. My sturdier youth, maturing to the sword, Won by the syren-trumpets, and the ring Of shields upon the pavement, when bright-mail’d Henry the Fowler pass’d the streets of Prague, Was’t to this end I louted and became The menial of Mars, and held a spear Sway’d by command, as corn is by the wind? Is it for this, I now am lifted up By Europe’s throned Emperor, to see My honour be my executioner, My love of fame, my prided honesty Put to the torture for confessional? Then the damn’d crime of blurting to the world A woman’s secret! Though a fiend she be, Too tender of my ignominious life; But then to wrong the generous Emperor In such a searching point, were to give up My soul for foot-ball at Hell’s holiday! I must confess, and cut my throat, to-day? To-morrow? Ho! some wine!
(didascalia)	Enter SIGIFRED.
Sigifred	A fine humour
Albert	Who goes there? Count Sigifred? Ha! Ha!
Sigifred	What, man, do you mistake the hollow sky For a throng ‘d tavern, and these stubbed trees For old serge hangings, me, your humble friend, For a poor waiter? Why, man, how you stare! What gipsies have you been carousing with? No, no more wine; methinks you’ve had enough.
Albert	You well may laugh and banter. What a fool An injury may make of a staid man! You shall know all anon.
Sigifred	Some tavern brawl?
Albert	’Twas with some people out of common reach; Revenge is difficult.
Sigifred	I am your friend; We meet again to-day, and can confer Upon it. For the present I’m in haste.
Albert	Whither?
Sigifred	To fetch King Gersa to the feast. The Emperor on this marriage is so hot, Pray Heaven it end not in apoplexy! The very porters, as I pass’d the doors, Heard his loud laugh, and answer ‘d in full choir. I marvel, Albert, you delay so long From those bright revelries; go, show yourself, You may be made a duke.
Albert	Aye, very like: Pray, what day has his Highness fix’d upon?
Sigifred	For what?
Albert	The marriage. What else can I mean?
Sigifred	To-day! O, I forgot, you could not know; The news is scarce a minute old with me.
Albert	Married to-day! To-day! You did not say so?
Sigifred	Now, while I speak to you, their comely heads Are bow’d before the mitre.
Albert	O! Monstrous!
Sigifred	What is this?
Albert	Nothing, Sigifred. Farewell! We’ll meet upon our subject. Farewell, count! [Exit.
Sigifred	Is this clear-headed Albert? He brain-turned! ’Tis as portentous as a meteor. [Exit.

SCENE II.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	An Apartment in the Castle.
(didascalia)	Enter, as from the Marriage, OTHO, LUDOLPH, AURANTHE, CONRAD,
(didascalia)	Nobles, Knights, Ladies, &c. Music.
Otho	Now, Ludolph! Now, Auranthe! Daughter fair! What can I find to grace your nuptial day More than my love, and these wide realms in fee?
Ludolph	I have too much.
Auranthe	And I, my liege, by far.
Ludolph	Auranthe! I have! O, my bride, my love! Not all the gaze upon us can restrain My eyes, too long poor exiles from thy face, From adoration, and my foolish tongue From uttering soft responses to the love I see in thy mute beauty beaming forth! Fair creature, bless me with a single word! All mine!
Auranthe	Spare, spare me, my Lord! I swoon else.
Ludolph	Soft beauty! by to-morrow I should die, Wert thou not mine. [They talk apart,
First Lady	How deep she has bewitch’d him!
First Knight	Ask you for her recipe for love philtres.
Second Lady	They hold the Emperor in admiration,
Otho	If ever king was happy, that am I! What are the cities ‘yond the Alps to me, The provinces about the Danube’s mouth, The promise of fair soil beyond the Rhone; Or routing out of Hyperborean hordes, To those fair children, stars of a new age? Unless perchance I might rejoice to win This little ball of earth, and chuck it them To play with!
Auranthe	Nay, my Lord, I do not know.
Ludolph	Let me not famish.
Otho	Good Franconia, You heard what oath I sware, as the sun rose, That unless Heaven would send me back my son, My Arab, no soft music should enrich The cool wine, kiss’d off with a soldier’s smack; Now all my empire, barter ‘d for one feast, Seems poverty.
Conrad	Upon the neighbour-plain The heralds have prepar’d a royal lists; Your knights, found war-proof in the bloody field, Speed to the game.
Otho	Well, Ludolph, what say you?
Ludolph	My lord!
Otho	A tourney?
Conrad	Or, if’t please you best
Ludolph	I want no morel
First Lady	He soars!
Second Lady	Past all reason.
Ludolph	Though heaven’s choir Should in a vast circumference descend And sing for my delight, I’d stop my ears! Though bright Apollo’s car stood burning here, And he put out an arm to bid me mount, His touch an immortality, not I! This earth, this palace, this room, Auranthe!
Otho	This is a little painful; just too much. Conrad, if he flames longer in this wise, I shall believe in wizard-woven loves And old romances; but I’ll break the spell. Ludolph!
Conrad	He will be calm, anon.
Ludolph	You call’d? Yes, yes, yes, I offend. You must forgive me; Not being quite recover’d from the stun Of your large bounties. A tourney, is it not? {A senet heard faintly.
Conrad	The trumpets reach us.
Ethelbert	On your peril, sirs, Detain us!
First Voice	Let not the abbot pass.
Second Voice	No, On your lives!
First Voice	Holy Father, you must not.
Ethelbert	Otho!
Otho	Who calls on Otho?
Ethelhert	Ethelbert!
Otho	Let him come in.
(didascalia)	Enter ETHELBERT leading in ERMINIA.
Otho	Thou cursed abbot, why Hast brought pollution to our holy rites? Hast thou no fear of hangman, or the faggot?
Ludolph	What portent what strange prodigy is this?
Conrad	Away!
Ethelbert	You, Duke?
Ermmia	Albert has surely fail’d me! Look at the Emperor’s brow upon me bent!
Ethelbert	A sad delay!
Conrad	Away, thou guilty thing!
Ethelbert	You again, Duke? Justice, most mighty Otho! You go to your sister there and plot again, A quick plot, swift as thought to save your heads; For lo! the toils are spread around your den, The word is all agape to see dragg’d forth Two ugly monsters.
Ludolph	What means he, my lord?
Conrad	I cannot guess.
Ethelbert	Best ask your lady sister, Whether the riddle puzzles her beyond The power of utterance.
Conrad	Foul barbarian, cease; The Princess faints!
Ludolph	Stab him! , sweetest wife! [Attendants bear off AURANTHE,
Erminia	Alas!
Ethelbert	Your wife?
Ludolph	Aye, Satan! does that yerk ye?
Ethelbert	Wife! so soon!
Ludolph	Aye, wife! Oh, impudence! Thou bitter mischief! Venomous mad priest! How dar’st thou lift those beetle brows at me? Me the prince Ludolph, in this presence here, Upon my marriage-day, and scandalize My joys with such opprobrious surprise? SO Wife! Why dost linger on that syllable, As if it were some demon’s name pronounc’d To summon harmful lightning, and make roar The sleepy thunder? Hast no sense of fear? No ounce of man in thy mortality? Tremble! for, at my nod, the sharpen’d axe Will make thy bold tongue quiver to the roots, Those grey lids wink, and thou not know it more!
Ethelbert	O, poor deceived Prince! I pity thee! Great Otho! I claim justice
Ludolph	Thou shalt hav ‘t! Thine arms from forth a pulpit of hot fire Shall sprawl distracted! O that that dull cowl Were some most sensitive portion of thy life, That I might give it to my hounds to tear! Thy girdle some fine zealous-pained nerve To girth my saddle! And those devil’s beads Each one a life, that I might, every day, Crush one with Vulcan’s hammer!
Otho	Peace, my son; You far outstrip my spleen in this affair. Let us be calm, and hear the abbot’s plea For this intrusion.
Ludolph	I am silent, sire.
Otho	Conrad, see all depart not wanted here. [Exeunt Knights, Ladies, &c. Ludolph, be calm. Ethelbert, peace awhile. This mystery demands an audience Of a just judge, and that will Otho be.
Ludolph	Why has he time to breathe another word?
Otho	Ludolph, old Ethelbert, be sure, comes not To beard us for no cause ; he’s not the man To cry himself up an ambassador Without credentials.
Ludolph	I’ll chain up myself.
Otho	Old Abbot, stand here forth. Lady Erminia,
Sit	And now, Abbot! what have you to say? Our ear is open. First we here denounce Hard penalties against thee, if ‘t be found The cause for which you have disturb ‘d us here, Making our bright hours muddy, be a thing Of little moment.
Ethelbert	See this innocent! Otho! thou father of the people call’d, Is her life nothing? Her fair honour nothing? Her tears from matins until even-song Nothing? Her burst heart nothing? Emperor! Is this your gentle niece the simplest flower Of the world’s herbal this fair lilly blanch ‘d Still with the dews of piety, this meek lady Here sitting like an angel newly-shent, Who veils its snowy wings and grows all pale, Is she nothing?
Otho	What more to the purpose, abbot?
Ludolph	Whither is he winding?
Conrad	No clue yet!
Ethelbert	You have heard, my Liege, and so, no doubt, all here, Foul, poisonous, malignant whisperings; Nay open speech, rude mockery grown common, Against the spotless nature and clear fame Of the princess Erminia, your niece. I have intruded here thus suddenly, Because I hold those base weeds, with tight hand, Which now disfigure her fair growing stem, Waiting but for your sign to pull them up By the dark roots, and leave her palpable, To all men’s sight, a Lady, innocent. The ignominy of that whisper’d tale About a midnight gallant, seen to climb A window to her chamber neighboured near, I will from her turn off, and put the load On the right shoulders; on that wretch’s head, Who, by close stratagems, did save herself, Chiefly by shifting to this lady’s room A rope-ladder for false witness.
Ludolph	Most atrocious!
Otho	Ethelbert, proceed.
Ethelbert	With sad lips I shall: For in the healing of one wound, I fear To make a greater. His young highness here To-day was married.
Ethelbert	Would it were good! Yet why do I delay to spread abroad The names of those two vipers, from whose jaws A deadly breath went forth to taint and blast This guileless lady?
Otho	Abbot, speak their names.
Ethelbert	A minute first. It cannot be but may I ask, great judge, if you to-day have put A letter by unread?
Otho	Does ‘tend in this?
Conrad	Out with their names!
Ethelbert	Bold sinner, say you so?
Ludolph	Out, tedious monk!
Otho	Confess, or by the wheel
Ethelbert	My evidence cannot be far away; And, though it never come, be on my head The crime of passing an attaint upon The slanderers of this virgin.
Ludolph	Speak aloud!
Ethelbert	Auranthe, and her brother there.
Conrad	Amaze!
Ludolph	Throw them from the windows!
Otho	Do what you will!
Ludolph	What shall I do with them? Something of quick dispatch, for should she hear, My soft Auranthe, her sweet mercy would Prevail against my fury. Damned priest! What swift death wilt thou die? As to the lady I touch her not.
Ethelbert	Illustrious Otho, stay! An ample store of misery thou hast, Choak not the granary of thy noble mind With more bad bitter grain, too difficult A cud for the repentance of a man
Grey-growing	To thee only I appeal, Not to thy noble son, whose yeasting youth Will clear itself, and crystal turn again. A young man’s heart, by Heaven’s blessing, is A wide world, where a thousand new-born hopes Empurple fresh the melancholy blood; But an old man’s is narrow, tenantless Of hopes, and stuff’d with many memories, Which, being pleasant, ease the heavy pulse Painful, clog up and stagnate. Weigh this matter Even as a miser balances his coin ; And, in the name of mercy, give command That your knight Albert be brought here before you. He will expound this riddle ; he will show A noon-day proof of bad Auranthe’s guilt.
Otho	Let Albert straight be summon ‘d. [Exit one of the Nobles.
Ludolph	Impossible ! I cannot doubt I will not no to doubt Is to be ashes! wither ‘d up to death!
Otho	My gentle Ludolph, harbour not a fear; You do yourself much wrong.
Ludolph	O, wretched dolt! Now, when my foot is almost on thy neck, Wilt thou infuriate me? Proof! thou fool! Why wilt thou teaze impossibility With such a thick-skull’d persevering suit? Fanatic obstinacy! Prodigy! Monster of folly! Ghost of a turn’d brain! You puzzle me, you haunt me, when I dream Of you my brain will split! Bald sorcerer! Juggler! May I come near you? On my soul I know not whether to pity, curse, or laugh.
(didascalia)	Enter ALBERT, and the Nobleman.
Ludolph	Here, Albert, this old phantom wants a proof! Give him his proof! A camel’s load of proofs!
Otho	Albert, I speak to you as to a man Whose words once utter ‘d pass like current gold; And therefore fit to calmly put a close To this brief tempest. Do you stand possess ‘d Of any proof against the honourableness Of Lady Auranthe, our new-spoused daughter?
Albert	You chill me with astonishment. How’s this? My Liege, what proof should I have ‘gainst a fame Impossible of slur? [Otho rises.
Erminia	O wickedness!
Ethelbert	Deluded monarch, ’tis a cruel lie.
Otho	Peace, rebel-priest!
Conrad	Insult beyond credence!
Erminia	Almost a dream!
Ludolph	We have awaken’d from A foolish dream that from my brow hath wrung A wrathful dew. O folly! why did I So act the lion with this silly gnat? Let them depart. Lady Erminia! I ever griev’d for you, as who did not? But now you have, with such a brazen front, So most maliciously, so madly striven To dazzle the soft moon, when tenderest clouds Should be unloop’d around to curtain her; I leave you to the desert of the world Almost with pleasure. Let them be set free For me! I take no personal revenge More than against a nightmare, which a man forgets in the new dawn. [Exit LUDOLPH.
Otho	Still in extremes! No, they must not be loose.
Ethelbert	Albert, I must suspect thee of a crime So fiendish
Otho	Fear’st thou not my fury, monk? Conrad, be they in your sure custody Till we determine some fit punishment. It is so mad a deed, I must reflect And question them in private ; for perhaps, By patient scrutiny, we may discover Whether they merit death, or should be placed In care of the physicians. [Exeunt OTHO and Nobles, ALBERT following.
Conrad	My guards, ho!
Erminia	Albert, wilt thou follow there? Wilt thou creep dastardly behind his back, And slink away from a weak woman’s eye? Turn, thou court-Janus! thou forget’st thyself; Here is the Duke, waiting with open arms, [Enter Guards. To thank thee; here congratulate each other; Wring hands; embrace; and swear how lucky ’twas That I, by happy chance, hit the right man Of all the world to trust in.
Albert	Trust! to me!
Conrad	He is the sole one in this mystery.
Erminia	Well, I give up, and save my prayers for Heaven! You, who could do this deed, would ne’er relent, Though, at my words, the hollow prison-vaults Would groan for pity.
Conrad	Manacle them both!
Ethelbert	I know it — it must be I see it all! Albert, thou art the minion!
Erminia	Ah ! too plain
Conrad	Silence! Gag up their mouths! I cannot bear More of this brawling. That the Emperor Had plac’d you in some other custody! Bring them away. [Exeunt all but ALBERT.
Albert	Though my name perish from the book of honour, Almost before the recent ink is dry, And be no more remember’d after death, Than any drummer’s in the muster-roll; Yet shall I season high my sudden fall With triumph o’er that evil-witted duke! He shall feel what it is to have the hand Of a man drowning, on his hateful throat.
(didascalia)	Enter GERSA and SIGIFRED.
Gersa	What discord is at ferment in this house?
Sigifred	We are without conjecture; not a soul We met could answer any certainty.
Gersa	Young Ludolph, like a fiery arrow, shot By us.
Sigifred	The Emperor, with cross’d arms, in thought.
Gersa	In one room music, in another sadness, Perplexity every where!
Albert	A trifle more! Follow; your presences will much avail To tune our jarred spirits. I’ll explain. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	AURANTHE’S Apartment. AURANTHE and CONRAD discovered.
Conrad	Well, well, I know what ugly jeopardy We are cag’d in; you need not pester that Into my ears. Prythee, let me be spared A foolish tongue, that I may bethink me Of remedies with some deliberation. You cannot doubt but ’tis in Albert’s power To crush or save us?
Auranthe	No, I cannot doubt. He has, assure yourself, by some strange means, My secret ; which I ever hid from him, Knowing his mawkish honesty.
Conrad	Curs’d slave!
Auranthe	Ay, I could almost curse him now myself. Wretched impediment! Evil genius! A glue upon my wings, that cannot spread, When they should span the provinces! A snake, A scorpion, sprawling on the first gold step, Conducting to the throne, high canopied.
Conrad	You would not hear my council, when his life Might have been trodden out, all sure and hush’d; Now the dull animal forsooth must be Intreated, managed! When can you contrive The interview he demands?
Auranthe	As speedily It must be done as my brib’d woman can Unseen conduct him to me; but I fear Twill be impossible, while the broad day Comes through the panes with persecuting glare. Methinks, if ‘t now were night I could intrigue With darkness, bring the stars to second me, And settle all this trouble.
Conrad	Nonsense! Child! See him immediately; why not now?
Auranthe	Do you forget that even the senseless door-posts Are on the watch and gape through all the house? How many whispers there are about, Hungry for evidence to ruin me ; Men I have spurn ‘d, and women I have taunted? Besides, the foolish prince sends, minute whiles, His pages so they tell me to enquire After my health, entreating, if I please, To see me.
Conrad	Well, suppose this Albert here; What is your power with him?
Auranthe	He should be My echo, my taught parrot! but I fear He will be cur enough to bark at me ; Have his own say ; read me some silly creed ‘Bout shame and pity.
Conrad	What will you do then?
Auranthe	What I shall do, I know not: what L would Cannot be done; for see, this chain her-floor Will not yield to the pick-axe and the spade, Here is no quiet depth of hollow ground.
Conrad	Sister, you have grown sensible and wise, Seconding, ere I speak it, what is now, I hope, resolv’d between us.
Auranthe	Say, what is ‘t?
Conrad	You need not be his sexton too: a man May carry that with him shall make him die Elsewhere, give that to him; pretend the while You will to-morrow succumb to his wishes, Be what they may, and send him from the Castle On some fool’s errand; let his latest groan Frighten the wolves!
Auranthe	Alas! he must not die!
Conrad	Would you were both hears’d up in stifling lead! Detested
Auranthe	Conrad, hold! I would not bear The little thunder of your fretful tongue, Tho; I alone were taken in these toils, And you could free me; but remember, sir, You live alone in my security: So keep your wits at work, for your own sake, Not mine, and be more mannerly.
Conrad	Thou wasp! If my domains were emptied of these folk, And I had thee to starve
Auranthe	O, marvellous! But Conrad, now be gone; the Host is look’d for; Cringe to the Emperor, entertain the Lords, And, do ye mind, above all things, proclaim My sickness, with a brother’s sadden’d eye, Condoling with Prince Ludolph. In fit time Return to me.
Conrad	I leave you to your thoughts. [Exit. Auranthe (sola) Down, down, proud temper! down, Auranthe’s pride! Why do I anger him when I should kneel? Conrad! Albert! help! help! What can I do? wretched woman! lost, wreck’d, swallow’d up, Accursed, blasted ! O, thou golden Crown, Orbing along the serene firmament Of a wide empire, like a glowing moon; And thou, bright sceptre! lustrous in my eyes, There as the fabled fair Hesperian tree, Bearing a fruit more precious! graceful thing. Delicate, godlike, magic! must I leave Thee to melt in the visionary air, Ere, by one grasp, this common hand is made Imperial? I do not know the time When I have wept for sorrow; but methinks I could now sit upon the ground, and shed Tears, tears of misery. O, the heavy day! How shall I bear my life till Albert comes? Ludolph! Erminia! Proofs! O heavy day! Bring me some mourning weeds, that I may ‘tire Myself, as fits one wailing her own death: Cut off these curls, and brand this lilly hand, And throw these jewels from my loathing sight, Fetch me a missal, and a string of beads, A cup of bitter’d water, and a crust, I will confess, O holy Abbot How! What is this? Auranthe! thou fool, dolt, Whimpering idiot! up! up! act and quell! I am safe! Coward! why am I in fear? Albert! he cannot stickle, chew the cud In such a fine extreme, impossible! Who knocks? [Goes to the Door, listens, and opens it.
(didascalia)	Enter ALBERT.
Conrad	Albert, I have been waiting for you here With such an aching heart, such swooning throbs On my poor brain, such cruel cruel sorrow, That I should claim your pity! Art not well?
Albert	Yes, lady, well.
Auranthe	You look not so, alas! But pale, as if you brought some heavy news.
Albert	You know full well what makes me look so pale.
Auranthe	No! Do I? Surely I am still to learn Some horror; all I know, this present, is I am near hustled to a dangerous gulph, Which you can save me from, and therefore safe, So trusting in thy love; that should not make Thee pale, my Albert.
Albert	It doth make me freeze.
Auranthe	Why should it, love?
Albert	You should not ask me that, But make your own heart monitor, and save Me the great pain of telling. You must know.
Auranthe	Something has vexed you, Albert. There are times When simplest things put on a sombre cast; A melancholy mood will haunt a man, Until most easy matters take the shape Of unachievable tasks; small rivulets Then seem impassable.
Albert	Do not cheat yourself With hope that gloss of words, or suppliant action, Or tears, or ravings, or self-threaten ‘d death, Can alter my resolve.
Auranthe	You make me tremble; Not so much at your threats, as at your voice. Untun’d. and harsh, and barren of all love.
Albert	You suffocate me! Stop this devil’s parley, And listen to me; know me once for all.
Auranthe	I thought I did. Alas! I am deceiv’d.
Albert	No, you are not deceiv’d. You took me for A man detesting all inhuman crime; 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 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, Penanc’d, 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.
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?
Auranthe	Conrad, traitor!
Albert	Let him in.
(didascalia)	Enter CONRAD.
Albert	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 to oppress An innocent lady, gull an Emperor, More generous to me than autumn’s sun To ripening harvests.
Auranthe	No more insult, sir!
Albert	Aye, 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	To-morrow, 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	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,
Conrad	Good, good! he dies. You go, say you?
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.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	An Apartment in the Castle.
(didascalia)	Enter LUDOLPH and Page.
Page	Still very sick, my Lord; but now I went Knowing my duty to so good a Prince; And there her women in a mournful throng Stood in the passage whispering: if any Mov’d ’twas with careful steps and hush’d as death; They bid me stop.
Ludolph	Good fellow, once again Make soft enquiry; prythee 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 diviner 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	Auranthe! My Life! Long have I lov’d thee, yet till now not lov’d: Remembering, as I do, hard-hearted times When I had heard even of thy death perhaps, And thoughtless, suffered 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! O unbenignest Love, why wilt thou let Darkness steal out upon the sleepy world So wearily; as if night’s chariot wheels Were clog’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 eyelids ; that those eyes may glow With wooing light upon me, ere the Morn Peers with disrelish, grey, barren, and cold.
(didascalia)	Enter GERSA and Courtiers.
Ludolph	Otho calls me his Lion should I blush To be so tam’d, so
Gersa	Do me the courtesy Gentlemen to pass on.
Courtier	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.
Ludolph	For what cause Soe’er I shall be honour ‘d.
Gersa	I not less.
Ludolph	What may it be? No trifle can take place Of such deliberate prologue, serious ‘haviour. But be it what it may I cannot fail To listen with no common interest For though so new your presence is to me, I have a soldier’s friendship for your fame Please you explain.
Gersa	As thus for, pardon me, I cannot in plain terms grossly assault A noble nature ; and would faintly sketch What your quick apprehension will fill up So finely I esteem you.
Ludolph	I attend
Gersa	Your generous Father, most illustrious Otho, Sits in the Banquet room among his chiefs His wine is bitter, for you are not there His eyes are fix’d still on the open doors, And every passer in he frowns upon Seeing no Ludolph comes.
Ludolph	I do neglect
Gersa	And for your absence, may I guess the cause?
Ludolph	Stay there! no guess? more princely you must be Than to make guesses at me. ’Tis enough, I’m sorry I can hear no more.
Gersa	And I As griev’d to force it on you so abrupt; Yet one day you must know a grief whose sting Will sharpen more the longer ’tis concealed.
Ludolph	Say it at once, sir, dead, dead, is she dead?
Gersa	Mine is a cruel task : she is not dead And would for your sake she were innocent
Ludolph	Thou liest! thou amazest me beyond All scope of thought; convulsest my heart’s blood To deadly churning Gersa you are young As I am ; let me observe you face to face ; Not grey-brow’d like the poisonous Ethelbert, No rheumed eyes, no furrowing of age, No wrinkles where all vices nestle in Like crannied vermin no, but fresh and young And hopeful featured. Ha! by heaven you weep Tears, human tears Do you repent you then Of a curs’d torturer’s office! Why shouldst join Tell me, the league of Devils? Confess confess The Lie.
Gersa	Lie!- but begone all ceremonious points Of honour battailous. I could not turn My wrath against thee for the orbed world.
Ludolph	Your wrath, weak boy? Tremble at mine unless Retraction follow close upon the heels Of that late stounding insult: why has my sword Not done already a sheer judgment on thee? Despair, or eat thy words. Why, thou wast nigh Whimpering away my reason: hark ye, Sir, It is no secret; that Erminia, Erminia, Sir, was hidden in your tent; O bless ‘d asylum! comfortable home! Begone, I pity thee, thou art a Gull Erminia’s last new puppet
Gersa	Furious fire! Thou mak’st me boil as hot as thou canst flame! And in thy teeth I give thee back the lie! Thou liest! Thou, Auranthe’s fool, a wittol
Ludolph	Look! look at this bright sword; There is no part of it to the very hilt But shall indulge itself about thine heart Draw but remember thou must cower thy plumes, As yesterday the Arab made thee stoop
Gersa	Patience! not here, I would not spill thy blood Here underneath this roof where Otho breathes, Thy father almost mine
Ludolph	O faltering coward
(didascalia)	Re-enter PAGE.
Ludolph	Stay, stay, here is one I have half a word with Well What ails thee child?
Page	My lord,
Ludolph	Good fellow
Page	They are fled!
Ludolph	They who?
Page	When anxiously I hasten ‘d back, your grieving messenger, I found the stairs all dark, the lamps extinct, And not a foot or whisper to be heard. I thought her dead, and on the lowest step Sat listening; when presently came by Two muffled up, one sighing heavily, The other cursing low, whose voice I knew For the Duke Conrad’s. Close I follow’d them Thro’ the dark ways they chose to the open air; And, as I follow’d, heard my lady speak.
Ludolph	Thy life answers the truth!
Page	The chamber’s empty!
Ludolph	As I will be of mercy! So, at last, This nail is in my temples!
Gersa	Be calm in this.
Ludolph	I am.
Gersa	And Albert too has disappeared; Ere I met you, I sought him everywhere ; You would not hearken.
Ludolph	Which way went they, boy?
Gersa	I’ll hunt with you.
Ludolph	No, no, no. My senses are Still whole. I have surviv’d. My arm is strong My appetite sharp for revenge! I’ll no sharer In my feast; my injury is all my own, And so is my revenge, my lawful chattels! Terrier, ferret them out! Burn burn the witch! Trace me their footsteps! Away! [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	A part of the Forest.
(didascalia)	Enter CONRAD and AURANTHE.
Auranthe	Go no further; not a step more; thou art A master-plague in the midst of miseries. Go I fear thee. I tremble every limb, Who never shook before. There’s moody death In thy resolved looks Yes, I could kneel To pray thee far away. Conrad, go, go There! yonder underneath the boughs I see Our horses!
Conrad	Aye, and the man.
Auranthe	Yes, he is there. Go, go, no blood, no blood; go, gentle Conrad!
Conrad	Farewell!
Auranthe	Farewell, for this Heaven pardon you. [Exit AURANTHE,
Conrad	If he survive one hour, then may I die In unimagined tortures or breathe through A long life in the foulest sink of the world! He dies ’tis well she do not advertise The caitiff of the cold steel at his back. [Exit CONRAD.
(didascalia)	Enter LUDOLPH and PAGE.
Ludolph	Miss’d the way, boy, say not that on your peril!
Page	Indeed, indeed I cannot trace them further.
Ludolph	Must I stop here? Here solitary die? Stifled beneath the thick oppressive shade Of these dull boughs, this oven of dark thickets, Silent, without revenge? pshaw! bitter end, A bitter death, a suffocating death, A gnawing silent deadly, quiet death! Escaped? fled? vanish’d? melted into air? She’s gone! I cannot clutch her! no revenge! A muffled death, ensnar’d in horrid silence! Suck’d to my grave amid a dreamy calm! O, where is that illustrious noise of war, To smother up this sound of labouring breath, This rustle of the trees! [AURANTHE shrieks at a distance.
Page	My Lord, a noise! This way hark!
Ludolph	Yes, yes! A hope! A music! A glorious clamour! How I live again! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Another part of the Forest,
(didascalia)	Enter ALBERT (wounded).
Albert	O for enough life to support me on To Otho’s feet
(didascalia)	Enter LUDOLPH.
Ludolph	Thrice villainous, stay there Tell me where that detested woman is Or this is through thee!
Albert	My good Prince, with me The sword has done its worst; not without worst Done to another Conrad has it home I see you know it all
Ludolph	Where is his sister? AURANTHE rushes in.
Auranthe	Albert!
Ludolph	Ha! There! there! He is the paramour I There hug him dying! O, thou innocence, Shrine him and comfort him at his last gasp, Kiss down his eyelids! Was he not thy love? Wilt thou forsake him at his latest hour? Keep fearful and aloof from his last gaze, His most uneasy moments, when cold death Stands with the door ajar to let him in?
Albert	O that that door with hollow slam would close Upon me sudden, for I cannot meet, In all the unknown chambers of the dead, Such horrors
Ludolph	Auranthe! what can he mean? What horrors? Is it not a joyous time? Am I not married to a paragon “Of personal beauty and untainted soul”? A blushing fair-eyed Purity! A Sylph, Whose snowy timid hand has never sin’d Beyond a flower pluck’d, white as itself? Albert, you do insult my Bride your Mistress To talk of horrors on our wedding night.
Albert	Alas! poor Prince, I would you knew my heart. ’Tis not so guilty
Ludolph	Hear you he pleads not guilty You are not? or if so what matters it? You have escap’d me, free as the dusk air Hid in the forest safe from my revenge; I cannot catch you—You should laugh at me, Poor cheated Ludolph, make the forest hiss With jeers at me You tremble; faint at once, You will come to again. O Cockatrice, I have you. Whither wander those fair eyes To entice the Devil to your help, that he May change you to a Spider, so to crawl Into some cranny to escape my wrath?
Albert	Sometimes the counsel of a dying man Doth operate quietly when his breath is gone Disjoin those hands part—part, do not destroy Each other forget her our miseries Are equal shar’d, and mercy is
Ludolph	A boon When one can compass it. Auranthe, try Your oratory your breath is not so hitch’d Aye, stare for help [ALBERT groans and dies. There goes a spotted soul Howling in vain along the hollow night Hear him he calls you Sweet Auranthe, come!
Auranthe	Kill me.
Ludolph	No! What? upon our Marriage-night! The earth would shudder at so foul a deed A fair Bride, a sweet Bride, an innocent Bride! No, we must revel it, as ’tis in use In times of delicate brilliant ceremony: Come, let me lead you to our halls again Nay, linger not make no resistance sweet Will you Ah wretch, thou canst not, for I have The strength of twenty lions ‘gainst a lamb Now one adieu for Albert come away. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	An inner Court of the Castle.
(didascalia)	Enter SIGIFRED, GONFRED, and THEODORE meeting.
Theodore	Was ever such a night?
Sigifred	What horrors more? Things unbeliev’d one hour, so strange they are, The next hour stamps with credit.
Theodore	Your last news ?
Gonfred	After the Page’s story of the death Of Albert and Duke Conrad?
Sigifred	And the return Of Ludolph with the Princess.
Gonfred	No more save Prince Gersa’s freeing Abbot Ethelbert, And the sweet lady, fair Erminia, From prison.
Theodore	Where are they now? hast yet heard?
Gonfred	With the sad Emperor they are closeted ; I saw the three pass slowly up the stairs, The lady weeping, the old Abbot cowl’d.
Sigifred	What next?
Thedore	I ache to think on’t.
Gonfred	’Tis with fate.
Theodore	One while these proud towers are hush’d as death.
Gonfred	The next our poor Prince fills the arched rooms With ghastly ravings.
Sigifred	I do fear his brain.
Gonfred	I will see more. Bear you so stout a heart? [Exeunt into the Castle.

SCENE IV.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	A Cabinet, opening towards a Terrace. OTHO, ERMINIA, ETHELBERT, and a Physician, discovered.
Otho	O, my poor Boy! my Son! my Son! My Ludolph! Have ye no comfort for me, ye Physicians Of the weak Body and Soul?
Ethelbert	’Tis not the Medicine Either of heaven or earth can cure unless Fit time be chosen to administer
Otho	A kind forbearance, holy Abbot come Erminia, here sit by me, gentle Girl; Give me thy hand hast thou forgiven me?
Erminia	Would I were with the saints to pray for you!
Otho	Why will ye keep me from my darling child?
Physician	Forgive me, but he must not see thy face
Otho	Is then a father’s countenance a Gorgon? Hath it not comfort in it? Would it not Console my poor Boy, cheer him, heal his spirits? Let me embrace him, let me speak to him I will who hinders me? Who’s Emperor?
Physician	You may not, Sire ’twould overwhelm him quite, He is so full of grief and passionate wrath, Too heavy a sigh would kill him or do worse. He must be sav’d by fine contrivances And most especially we must keep clear Out of his sight a Father whom he loves His heart is full, it can contain no more, And do its ruddy office.
Ethelbert	Sage advice; We must endeavour how to ease and slacken The tight-wound energies of his despair, Not make them tenser
Otho	Enough! I hear, I hear. Yet you were about to advise more I listen.
Ethelbert	This learned doctor will agree with me, That not in the smallest point should he be thwarted Or gainsaid by one word his very motions, Nods, becks and hints, should be obey’d with care, Even on the moment: so his troubled mind May cure itself
Physician	There is no other means.
Otho	Open the door: let’s hear if all is quiet
Physician	Beseech you, Sire, forbear.
Erminia	Do, do.
Otho	I command! Open it straight hush! quiet my lost Boy! My miserable Child!
Ludolph	Fill, fill my goblet, Here’s a health!
Erminia	O, close the door!
Otho	Let, let me hear his voice; this cannot last And fain would I catch up his dying words Though my own knell they be this cannot last O let me catch his voice for lo! I hear This silence whisper me that he is dead! It is so. Gersa?
(didascalia)	Enter GERSA.
Physician	Say, how fares the prince?
Gersa	More calm his features are less wild and flushed Once he complain’d of weariness
Physician	Indeed! ’Tis good ’tis good let him but fall asleep, That saves him.
Otho	Gersa, watch him like a child Ward him from harm and bring me better news
Physician	Humour him to the height. I fear to go; For should he catch a glimpse of my dull garb, It might affright him fill him with suspicion That we believe him sick, which must not be
Gersa	I will invent what soothing means I can. [Exit GERSA.
Physician	This should cheer up your Highness weariness Is a good symptom, and most favourable It gives me pleasant hopes. Please you walk forth Onto the Terrace; the refreshing air Will blow one half of your sad doubts away. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	A Banqueting Hall, brilliantly illuminated, and set forth with all costly magnificence, with Supper-tables, laden with services of Gold and Silver. A door in the back scene, guarded by two Soldiers. Lords, Ladies, Knights, Gentlemen, &c., whispering sadly, and ranging themselves; part entering and part discovered.
First Knight	Grievously are we tantaliz’d, one and all Sway’d here and there, commanded to and fro As though we were the shadows of a dream And link’d to a sleeping fancy. What do we here?
Gonfred	I am no Seer you know we must obey The prince from A to Z though it should be To set the place in flames. I pray hast heard Where the most wicked Princess is?
First Knight	There, Sir, In the next room have you remark’d those two Stout soldiers posted at the door?
Gonfred	For what? [They whisper.
First Lady	How ghast a train!
Second Lady	Sure this should be some splendid burial.
First Lady	What fearful whispering! See, see, Gersa there.
(didascalia)	Enter GERSA.
Gersa	Put on your brightest looks; smile if you can; Behave as all were happy; keep your eyes From the least watch upon him ; if he speaks To any one, answer collectedly, Without surprise, his questions, howe’er strange. Do this to the utmost, though, alas! with me The remedy grows hopeless! Here he comes, Observe what I have said, show no surprise.
(didascalia)	Enter LUDOLPH, followed by SIGIFRED and Page.
Ludolph	A splendid company! rare beauties here! I should have Orphean lips, and Plato’s fancy, Amphion’s utterance, toned with his lyre, Or the deep key of Jove’s sonorous mouth, To give fit salutation. Methought I heard, As I came in, some whispers, what of that? ’Tis natural men should whisper; at the kiss Of Psyche given by Love, there was a buzz Among the gods! and silence is as natural. These draperies are fine, and, being a mortal, I should desire no better; yet, in truth, There must be some superiour costliness, Some wider-domed high magnificence! I would have, as a mortal I may not, Hanging of heaven’s clouds, purple and gold, Slung from the spheres; gauzes of silver mist, Loop’d up with cords of twisted wreathed light, And tassell’d round with weeping meteors! These pendent lamps and chandeliers are bright As earthly fires from dull dross can be cleansed; Yet could my eyes drink up intenser beams Undazzled, this is darkness, when I close These lids, I see far fiercer brilliances, Skies full of splendid moons, and shooting stars, And spouting exhalations, diamond fires, And panting fountains quivering with deep glows! Yes this is dark is it not dark?
Sigifred	My Lord, ’Tis late; the lights of festival are ever Quench’d in the morn.
Ludolph	’Tis not to-morrow then?
Sigifred	’Tis early dawn.
Gersa	Indeed full time we slept; Say you so, Prince?
Ludolph	I say I quarreled with you ; We did not tilt each other, that’s a blessing, Good gods! no innocent blood upon my head!
Sigifred	Retire, Gersa!
Ludolph	There should be three more here: For two of them, they stay away perhaps, Being gloomy-minded, haters of fair revels, They know their own thoughts best. As for the third, Deep blue eyes semi-shaded in white lids, Finished with lashes fine for more soft shade, Completed by her twin-arch’d ebon brows White temples of exactest elegance, Of even mould felicitous and smooth Cheeks fashioned tenderly on either side, So perfect, so divine that our poor eyes Are dazzled with the sweet proportioning, And wonder that ’tis so, the magic chance! Her nostrils, small, fragrant, faery-delicate; Her lips -I swear no human bones e’er wore So taking a disguise you shall behold her! We’ll have her presently; aye, you shall see her, And wonder at her, friends, she is so fair She is the world’s chief Jewel, and by heaven She’s mine by right of marriage she is mine! Patience, good people, in fit time I send A Summoner she will obey my call, Being a wife most mild and dutiful. First I would hear what music is prepared To herald and receive her let me hear!
Sigifred	Bid the musicians soothe him tenderly. [A soft strain of Music.
Ludolph	Ye have none better no I am content; ’Tis a rich sobbing melody, with reliefs Full and majestic; it is well enough, And will be sweeter, when ye see her pace Sweeping into this presence, glisten’d o’er With emptied caskets, and her train upheld By ladies, habited in robes of lawn, Sprinkled with golden crescents; (others bright In silks, with spangles shower’d,) and bow’d to By Duchesses and pearled Margravines Sad, that the fairest creature of the earth I pray you mind me not ’tis sad, I say, That the extremest beauty of the world Should so entrench herself away from me, Behind a barrier of engender ‘d guilt!
Second Lady	Ah! what a moan!
First Knight	Most piteous indeed!
Ludolph	She shall be brought before this company, And then then
First Lady	He muses.
Gersa	O, Fortune, where will this end?
Sigifred	I guess his purpose! Indeed he must not have That pestilence brought in, that cannot be, There we must stop him.
Gersa	I am lost! Hush, hushl He is about to rave again.
Ludolph	A barrier of guilt! I was the fool. She was the cheater! Who’s the cheater now, And who the fool? The entrapp’d, the caged fool, The bird-limy raven? She shall croak to death Secure! Methinks I have her in my fist, To crush her with my heel! Wait, wait! I marvel My father keeps away: good friend, ah! Sigifred! Do bring him to me and Erminia I fain would see before I sleep and Ethelbert, That he may bless me, as I know he will Though I have curs’d him.
Sigifred	Rather suffer me To lead you to them
Ludolph	No, excuse me, no The day is not quite done go bring them hither. [Exit SIGIFRED. Certes, a father’s smile should, like sunlight,, Slant on my sheafed harvest of ripe bliss Besides, I thirst to pledge my lovely Bride In a deep goblet: let me see what wine? The strong Iberian juice, or mellow Greek? Or pale Calabrian? Or the Tuscan grape? Or of old Ætna’s pulpy wine presses, Black stain’d with the fat vintage, as it were The purple slaughter-house, where Bacchus’ self Prick’d his own swollen veins? Where is my Page?
Page	Here, here!
Ludolph	Be ready to obey me; anon thou shalt Bear a soft message for me for the hour Draws near when I must make a winding up Of bridal Mysteries a fine-spun vengeance! Carve it on my Tomb, that when I rest beneath Men shall confess This Prince was gulled and cheated, But from the ashes of disgrace he rose More than a fiery Phoenix and did burn His ignominy up in purging fires Did I not send, Sir, but a moment past, For my Father?
Gersa	You did.
Ludolph	Perhaps ’twould be Much better he came not.
Gersa	He enters now!
(didascalia)	Enter OTHO, ERMINIA, ETHELBERT, SIGIFRED, and Physician.
Ludolph	O thou good Man, against whose sacred head I was a mad conspirator, chiefly too For the sake of my fair newly wedded wife, Now to be punish’d, do not look so sad! Those charitable eyes will thaw my heart, Those tears will wash away a just resolve, A verdict ten times sworn! Awake awake Put on a judge’s brow, and use a tongue Made iron-stern by habit! Thou shalt see A deed to be applauded, ‘scribed in gold! Join a loud voice to mine, and so denounce What I alone will execute!
Otho	Dear son, What is it? By your father’s love, I sue That it be nothing merciless!
Ludolph	To that demon? Not so! No! She is in temple-stall Being garnish’d for the sacrifice, and I, The Priest of Justice, will immolate her Upon the altar of wrath! She stings me through!- Even as the worm doth feed upon the nut, So she, a scorpion, preys upon my brain! I feel her gnawing here! Let her but vanish, Then, father, I will lead your legions forth, Compact in steeled squares, and speared files, And bid our trumpets speak a fell rebuke To nations drows’d in peace!
Otho	To-morrow, Son, Be your word law forget to-day
Ludolph	I will When I have finish ‘d it now! now! I’m pight, Tight-footed for the deed!
Erminia	Alas! Alas!
Ludolph	What Angel’s voice is that? Erminia! Ah! gentlest creature, whose sweet innocence Was almost murder’d; I am penitent, Wilt thou forgive me? And thou, holy Man, Good Ethelbert, shall I die in peace with you?
Erminia	Die, my lord!
Ludolph	I feel it possible.
Otho	Physician?
Physician	I fear me he is past my skill.
Otho	Not so!
Ludolph	I see it, I see it I have been wandering Half-mad not right here I forget my purpose. Bestir, bestir, Auranthe! ha! ha! ha! Youngster! Page! go bid them drag her to me! Obey! This shall finish it! [Draws a dagger.
Otho	O my Son! my Son!
Sigifred	This must not be stop there!
Ludolph	Am I obey’d? A little talk with her no harm haste ! haste ! [Exit Page. Set her before me never fear I can strike.
Several Voices	My Lord! My Lord!
Gersa	Good Prince!
Ludolph	Why do ye trouble me? out-out-out away! There she is! take that! and that! no, no- That’s not well done Where is she? The doors open. Enter Page. Several women are seen grouped about AURANTHE in the inner room.
Page	Alas! My Lord, my Lord! they cannot move her! Her arms are stiff, her fingers clench’d and cold
Ludolph	She’s dead! [Staggers and jails into their arms.
Ethelbert	Take away the dagger.
Gersa	Softly; so!
Otho	Thank God for that!
Sigifred	I fear it could not harm him.
Gersa	No! brief be his anguish!
Ludolph	She’s gone I am content Nobles, good night! We are all weary faint set ope the doors I will to bed! To-morrow [Dies.