LITMIR.BIZ

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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 (aside). 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.

      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

       Table of Contents

Scene I

       Table of Contents

      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

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