The Complete Works of John Keats: Poems, Plays & Personal Letters. John Keats

My miserable Child!

       Ludolph (indistinctly without). Fill, fill my goblet,

       Here’s a health!

      Erminia.

       O, close the door!

      Otho.

       Let, let me hear his voice; this cannot last

       And fain would I catch up his dying words

       Though my own knell they be this cannot last

       O let me catch his voice for lo! I hear

       This silence whisper me that he is dead!

       It is so. Gersa?

      Enter GERSA.

      Physician.

       Say, how fares the prince?

      Gersa.

       More calm his features are less wild and flushed

       Once he complain’d of weariness

       Physician. Indeed!

       ’Tis good ’tis good let him but fall asleep,

       That saves him.

      Otho.

       Gersa, watch him like a child

       Ward him from harm and bring me better news

       Physician. Humour him to the height. I fear to go;

       For should he catch a glimpse of my dull garb,

       It might affright him fill him with suspicion

       That we believe him sick, which must not be

       Gersa. I will invent what soothing means I can.

      [Exit GERSA.

      Physician.

       This should cheer up your Highness weariness

       Is a good symptom, and most favourable

       It gives me pleasant hopes. Please you walk forth

       Onto the Terrace; the refreshing air

       Will blow one half of your sad doubts away.

       [Exeunt.

Scene V

       Table of Contents

      A Banqueting Hall, brilliantly illuminated, and set forth

       with all costly magnificence, with Supper-tables, laden with services

       of Gold and Silver. A door in the back scene, guarded by two Soldiers.

       Lords, Ladies, Knights, Gentlemen, &c., whispering sadly,

       and ranging themselves; part entering and part discovered.

       First Knight. Grievously are we tantaliz’d, one and all

       Sway’d here and there, commanded to and fro

       As though we were the shadows of a dream

       And link’d to a sleeping fancy. What do we here?

      Gonfred.

       I am no Seer you know we must obey

       The prince from A to Z though it should be

       To set the place in flames. I pray hast heard

       Where the most wicked Princess is?

       First Knight. There, Sir,

       In the next room have you remark’d those two

       Stout soldiers posted at the door?

      Gonfred.

       For what?

       [They whisper.

       First Lady. How ghast a train!

       Second Lady. Sure this should be some splendid burial.

       First Lady. What fearful whispering! See, see, Gersa there.

      Enter GERSA.

      Gersa.

       Put on your brightest looks; smile if you can;

       Behave as all were happy; keep your eyes

       From the least watch upon him ;

       if he speaks

       To any one, answer collectedly,

       Without surprise, his questions, howe’er strange.

       Do this to the utmost, though, alas! with me

       The remedy grows hopeless! Here he comes,

       Observe what I have said, show no surprise.

      Enter LUDOLPH, followed by SIGIFRED and Page.

      Ludolph.

       A splendid company! rare beauties here!

       I should have Orphean lips, and Plato’s fancy,

       Amphion’s utterance, toned with his lyre,

       Or the deep key of Jove’s sonorous mouth,

       To give fit salutation. Methought I heard,

       As I came in, some whispers, what of that?

       ’Tis natural men should whisper; at the kiss

       Of Psyche given by Love, there was a buzz

       Among the gods! and silence is as natural.

       These draperies are fine, and, being a mortal,

       I should desire no better; yet, in truth,

       There must be some superiour costliness,

       Some wider-domed high magnificence!

       I would have, as a mortal I may not,

       Hanging of heaven’s clouds, purple and gold,

       Slung from the spheres; gauzes of silver mist,

       Loop’d up with cords of twisted wreathed light,

       And tassell’d round with weeping meteors!

       These pendent lamps and chandeliers are bright

       As earthly fires from dull dross can be cleansed;

       Yet could my eyes drink up intenser beams

       Undazzled, this is darkness, when I close

       These lids, I see far fiercer brilliances,

       Skies full of splendid moons, and shooting stars,

       And spouting exhalations, diamond fires,

       And panting fountains quivering with deep glows!

       Yes this is dark is it not dark?

      Sigifred.

       My Lord,

       ’Tis late; the lights of festival are ever

       Quench’d in the morn.

      Ludolph.

       ’Tis not tomorrow then?

       Sigifred. ’Tis early dawn.

      Gersa.

       Indeed full time we slept;

       Say you so, Prince?

      Ludolph.

       I say I quarreled with you ; We did not tilt each other, that’s a blessing,

       Good gods! no innocent blood upon my head!

      Sigifred.

       Retire, Gersa!

      Ludolph.

       There should be three more here:

       For two of them, they stay away perhaps,

       Being gloomy-minded, haters of fair revels,

       They know their own thoughts best.

       As for the third,

       Deep blue eyes semi-shaded in white lids,