For, without thee, this day I might have beenA show-monster about the streets of Prague,
In chains, as just now stood that noble prince:
And then to me no mercy had been shown,
For when the conquered lion is once dungeon’d,
Who lets him forth again? or dares to give
An old lion sugar-cates of mild reprieve?
Not to thine ear alone I make confession,
But to all here, as, by experience,
I know how the great basement of all power
Is frankness, and a true tongue to the world;
And how intriguing secrecy is proof
Of fear and weakness, and a hollow state.
Conrad, I owe thee much.
Conrad.
To kiss that hand,
My emperor, is ample recompense,
For a mere act of duty.
Otho.
Thou art wrong;
For what can any man on earth do more?
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
