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.
Enter ALBERT, and the Nobleman.
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.
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 (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.
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