Elb. (pushing her away.)
Out upon thee, fool! Go speak thy comforts
To spirits tame and abject as thyself:
They make me mad; they make me thus to tear
My scatter'd locks and strew them to the winds.
(tearing her hair distractedly.)
Enter a Servant.
Ser. Ethwald, the king, is at the gate, and asks
To be admitted to your presence, princess.
Elb. (becoming suddenly calm.)
What, Ethwald, say'st thou? say'st thou truly so?
Ser. Yes, truly, princess.
Elb. Ethwald, that Thane whom thou dost call the king?
Ser. Yes, he whom all the states and chiefs of Mercia
Do call the king.
Elb. He enters not. Tell him I am unwell,
And will not be disturb'd.(Exit Ser.
What seeks he here? Fie, poorly fainting soul!
Rouse! rouse thee up! To all the world beside
Subdued and humbled would I rather be
Than in the eyes of this proud man.
Re-enter Ser.
Is he departed?
Ser. No, he will not depart, but bids me say,
The entrance he has begg'd he now commands,
I hear his steps behind me.
