The Complete Works of John Keats: Poems, Plays & Personal Letters. John Keats
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Farewell!
Ludolph.
Farewell! and by these tears believe,
And still remember, I repent in pain
All my misdeeds!
Otho.
Ludolph, I will! I will!
But, Ludolph, ere you go, I would enquire
If you, in all your wandering, ever met
A certain Arab haunting in these parts.
Ludolph.
No, my good lord, I cannot say I did.
Otho. Make not your father blind before his time;
Nor let these arms paternal hunger more
For an embrace, to dull the appetite
Of my great love for thee, my supreme child!
Come close, and let me breathe into thine ear.
knew you through disguise. You are the Arab!
You can’t deny it. [Embracing him.
Ludolph.
Happiest of days!
Otho.
We’ll make it so.
Ludolph.
‘Stead of one fatted calf
Ten hecatombs shall bellow out their last,
Smote ‘twixt the horns by the death-stunning mace
Of Mars, and all the soldiery shall feast
Nobly as Nimrod’s masons, when the towers
Of Nineveh new kiss’d the parted clouds!
Otho.
Large as a God speak out, where all is thine.
Ludolph.
Aye, father, but the fire in my sad breast
Is quench ‘d with inward tears! I must rejoice
For you, whose wings so shadow over me
In tender victory, but for myself
I still must mourn. The fair Auranthe mine!
Too great a boon! I prythee let me ask I
What more than I know of could so have changed
Your purpose touching her?
Otho.
At a word, this:
In no deed did you give me more offense
Than your rejection of Erminia.
To my appalling, I saw too good proof
Of your keen-eyed suspicion, she is naught!
Ludolph.
You are convinced?
Otho.
Aye, spite of her sweet looks.
O, that my brother’s daughter should so fall!
Her fame has pass’d into the grosser lips
Of soldiers in their cups.
Lndolph.
’Tis very sad.
Otho. No more of her. Auranthe Ludolph, come!
This marriage be the bond of endless peace! [Exeunt.
Scene II
The Entrance of GERSA’S Tent in the Hungarian Camp.
Enter ERMINIA.
Erminia.
Where! where! where shall I find a messenger?
A trusty soul? A good man in the camp?
Shall I go myself? Monstrous wickedness!
O cursed Conrad devilish Auranthe!
Here is proof palpable as the bright sun!
O for a voice to reach the Emperor’s ears!
[Shouts in the Camp.
Enter an HUNGARIAN CAPTAIN.
Captain.
Fair prisoner, hear you those joyous shouts?
The king aye, now our king, but still your slave,
Young Gersa, from a short captivity
Has just return’d. He bids me say, bright Dame,
That even the homage of his ranged chiefs
Cures not his keen impatience to behold
Such beauty once again. What ails you, lady?
Erminia.
Say, is not that a German, yonder? There!
Captain.
Methinks by his stout bearing he should be
Yes ’tis one Albert; a brave German knight,
And much in the emperor’s favour.
Erminia.
I would fain
Enquire of friends and kinsfolk; how they fared
In these rough times. Brave soldier, as you pass
To royal Gersa with my humble thanks,
Will you send yonder knight to me?
Captain.
I will.
[Exit.
Ermina.
Yes, he was ever known to be a man
Frank, open, generous; Albert I may trust.
proof! proof! proof! Albert’s an honest man;
Not Ethelbert the monk, if he were here,
Would I hold more trustworthy. Now!
Enter ALBERT.
Albert.
Good Gods!
Lady Erminia! are you prisoner
In this beleaguer ‘d camp? Or are you here
Of your own will? You pleas’d to send for me.
By Venus, ’tis a pity I knew not
Your plight before, and, by her Son, I swear
To do you every service you can ask.
What would the fairest?
Erminia.
Albert, will you swear?
Albert.
I have. Well?
Erminia.
Albert, you have fame to lose.
If men, in court and camp, lie not outright,
You should be, from a thousand, chosen forth
To do an honest deed. Shall I confide?
Albert.
Aye, anything to me, fair creature. Do;
Dictate my task. Sweet woman,
Erminia. Truce with that.
You understand me not; and, in your speech,
see how far the slander is abroad.
Without proof could you think me innocent?
Albert.
Lady, I should rejoice to know you so.
Erminia.
If you have any pity for a maid,
Suffering a daily death from evil tongues;