Auranthe. I follow him.

Conrad. How? Where? The plan of your escape?

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

Conrad. Good, good! he dies. You go, say you?

Auranthe. Perforce.

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

[Exit.

Auranthe. And you! and you!
And all men! Vanish!

[Retires to an inner apartment.

Scene II.—An Apartment in the Castle.

Enter Ludolph and Page

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

Ludolph. Good fellow, once again
Make soft inquiry; pr’ythee, be not stayed
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 sucked in
Any divine eloquence,—woo her ears
With plaints for me, more tender than the voice
Of dying Echo, echoed.

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

[Exit Page.

Ludolph (Solus). Auranthe! My life!
Long have I loved thee, yet till now not loved:
Remembering, as I do, hard-hearted times
When I had heard e’en of thy death perhaps,
And—thoughtless!—suffered thee to pass alone
Into Elysium!—now I follow thee,
A substance or a shadow, wheresoe’er
Thou leadest me—whether thy white feet press,
With pleasant weight, the amorous-aching earth,
Or thro’ the air thou pioneerest me,
A shade! Yet sadly I predestinate!
O, unbenignest Love, why wilt thou let
Darkness steal out upon the sleepy world
So wearily, as if Night’s chariot wheels
Were clogged 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 pillowed 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!

Enter Gersa and Courtiers

Gersa. Do me the courtesy,
Gentlemen, to pass on.

1st Knight. We are your servants
.

[Exeunt Courtiers.