Like a marr'd speech snatch'd from a bungler's mouth,
Shaping their forms distinctively and vivid
To visions horrible:—this is my bane;—
It is the dreadful waking that I fear. .
Al. Well, speak of other things. There in good time
Your ghostly father comes with quicken'd steps,
Like one who bears some tidings good or ill.
Heaven grant they may be good!
Enter Urston.
Or. Father, you seem disturb'd.
Ur. Daughter, I am in truth disturb'd. The Count
All o'the sudden, being much enrag'd
That Falkcnstein still lingers near these walls,
Resolves to send thee hence, to be a while
In banishment detain'd, till on his son
Thou look'st with better favour.
Or. Aye, indeed!
That is to say perpetual banishment:
A sentence light or heavy, as the place
Is sweet or irksome he would send me to.
Ur. He will contrive to make it, doubt him not,
Irksome enough. Therefore I would advise thee
To feign at least, but for a little time,
A disposition to obey his wishes.
He's stern, but not relentless; and his dame,
The gentle Eleanor, will still befriend you,
When fit occasion serves.
