SCENE II. A small apartment in Mollo's castle. Enter Ethwald very thoughtful, who leans against a pillar for some time without speaking.
Ethw. (coming forward.) Is it delusion this?
Or wears the mind of man within itself
A conscious feeling of its destination?
What say these suddenly imposed thoughts,
Which mark such deepen'd traces on the brain
Of vivid real persuasion, as do make
My nerved foot tread firmer on the earth,
And my dilating form tower on its way?
That I am born, within these narrow walls,
The younger brother of a petty chief,
To live my term in dark obscurity,
Until some foul disease or bloody gash,
In low marauding strife, shall lay me low?
My spirit sickens at the hateful thought!
It hangs upon it with such thick oppression,
As doth the heavy, dense, sulphureous air
Upon the breath it stifles. (pulling up the sleeve of his garment, and baring his right arm from the shoulder.)
A firmer strung, a stronger arm than this
Own'd ever valiant chief of ancient story?
And lacks my soul within, what should impel it?
Ah! but occasion, like th' unveiling moon
Which calls the advent'rer forth, did shine on them!
I sit i'the shade! no star-beam falls on me!
