The Poetical Works of John Keats/Otho the Great. A Tragedy/Act 5 Scene 1
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ACT V.
Scene I.—A part of the Forest.
Enter Conrad and Auranthe.
Auranthe. Go no further; not a step more. Thou art
A master-plague in the midst of miseries.
Go,—I fear thee! I tremble every limb,
Who never shook before. There's moody death
In thy resolved looks! Yes, I could kneel
To pray thee far away! Conrad, go! go!—
There! yonder underneath the boughs I see
Our horses!
A master-plague in the midst of miseries.
Go,—I fear thee! I tremble every limb,
Who never shook before. There's moody death
In thy resolved looks! Yes, I could kneel
To pray thee far away! Conrad, go! go!—
There! yonder underneath the boughs I see
Our horses!
Conrad.Ay, and the man.
Auranthe.Yes, he is there I
Go, go,—no blood! no blood! go, gentle Conrad!
Go, go,—no blood! no blood! go, gentle Conrad!
Conrad. Farewell!
Auranthe.Farewell! For this Heaven pardon you!
[Exit Auranthe.
[Exit Auranthe.
Conrad. If he survive one hour, then may I die
In unimagined tortures, or breathe through
A long life in the foulest sink o' the world!
He dies! 'Tis well she do not advertise
The caitiff of the cold steel at his back.
[Exit Conrad.
In unimagined tortures, or breathe through
A long life in the foulest sink o' the world!
He dies! 'Tis well she do not advertise
The caitiff of the cold steel at his back.
[Exit Conrad.
Enter Ludolph and Page.
Ludolph. Miss'd the way, boy? Say not that on your peril!
Page. Indeed, indeed I cannot trace them further.
Ludolph. Must I stop here? Here solitary die?
Stifled beneath the thick oppressive shade
Of these dull boughs,—this oven of dark thickets,—
Silent,—without revenge?—pshaw!—bitter end,—
A bitter death,—a suffocating death,—
A gnawing—silent—deadly, quiet death!
Escaped?—fled?—vanish'd? melted into air?
She's gone! I cannot clutch her! no revenge!
A muffled death, ensnared in horrid silence!
Suck'd to my grave amid a dreamy calm!
O, where is that illustrious noise of war,
To smother up this sound of laboring breath,
This rustle of the trees!
[Auranthe shrieks at distance.
Stifled beneath the thick oppressive shade
Of these dull boughs,—this oven of dark thickets,—
Silent,—without revenge?—pshaw!—bitter end,—
A bitter death,—a suffocating death,—
A gnawing—silent—deadly, quiet death!
Escaped?—fled?—vanish'd? melted into air?
She's gone! I cannot clutch her! no revenge!
A muffled death, ensnared in horrid silence!
Suck'd to my grave amid a dreamy calm!
O, where is that illustrious noise of war,
To smother up this sound of laboring breath,
This rustle of the trees!
[Auranthe shrieks at distance.
Page.My lord, a noise!
This way—hark
This way—hark
Ludolph.Yes, yes! A hope! A music!
A glorious clamor! How I live again!
[Exeunt.
A glorious clamor! How I live again!
[Exeunt.