We will make trial of your house’s welcome,
My bright Auranthe!
Conrad.
How is Friedburg honoured!
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.
Exeunt severally. The scene closes on them.
Scene III
The Country, with the Castle in the distance.
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,