Amongst the mighty great, the earth's high lords,
There is no place for me! I must lie down
In the dark tomb with those, whose passing brightness
Shines for a while, but leaves no ray behind.
(throws himself half upon the couch and groans heavily.)
Enter Boy.
Boy. My Lord, my Lord! (Ethw. lifts up his head and looks sternly at him.)
Are you unwell, my Lord?
Ethw. What dost thou want?
Boy. I could not sleep; and as I list'ning lay
To the drear wind that whistles thro' these towers,
Methought I heard you groan like one in pain.
Ethw. Away, and go to sleep: I want thee not:
I say, be gone, (sternly.)(Exit Boy.
(he pauses awhile, then sighs very deeply.)
He hangs upon me like a dead man's grasp
On the wreck'd swimmer's neck—his boyish love
Was not my seeking; it was fasten'd on me,
And now it hath become an iron band
To fetter down my powers. O that I were
Amidst the warlike and ungentle cast
To strive uncumber'd! What have I to do
With soft affection? (soften'd) Yet it needs must be!
His gen'rous love: his brave ungrudging love:
His manly gentle love—O that he had
Mine equal friend been born, who in my rise
Had fair advancement found, and by my side
The next in honour stood!
