I spring complete Minerva! but the prince His highness Ludolph Conrad. where is he? I know not: When, lackying 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; 100 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 night rumours from the Cain D. Conrad. You give up Albert to me? Auranthe. Harm him not! E'en for his highness Ludolph's sceptry Do you not count, when I am queen, to take Advantage of your chance discoveries Conrad. Let not this slave this villain Be cause of feud between us. See! he comes ! Is in the heady, proud, ambitious vein; Look, woman, look, your Albert is quite I bicker not with her, bid her farewell! And a nice judge in the age and smack of Cry a reward, to him who shall first bring wine. Enter from the Castle, AURANTHE, followed by Pages, holding up her robes, and a train of Women. She kneels. Hail my sweet hostess! I do thank the stars, Or my good soldiers, or their ladies' eyes, The little prologue to a line of kings. 20 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. It was my chance to meet his olive brow, I must see Ludolph or the What's that Triumphant in the enemy's shatter'd shout? Voices without. Huzza! huzza! Long live the Emperor ! Other voices. Fall back! Away there! ALBERT advancing from the back 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, 89 His eye not downcast, and his folded arm, He doth this moment wish himself asleep Among his fallen captains on yon plains. 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 |