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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"The Saint's Tragedy"


Here comes the lady's tyrant, of whom I told you.
[Conrad advances from the Hut.]
Con. And what may Count Walter's valour want here?
[Count Walter turns his back.]
C. Pama. I come, Sir Priest, from Andreas, king renowned
Of Hungary, ambassador unworthy
Unto the Landgravine, his saintly daughter;
And fain would be directed to her presence.
Con. That is as I shall choose. But I'll not stop you.
I do not build with straw. I'll trust my pupils
To worldlings' honeyed tongues, who make long prayers,
And enter widows' houses for pretence.
There dwells the lady, who has chosen too long
The better part, to have it taken from her.
Besides that with strange dreams and revelations
She has of late been edified.
C. Wal. Bah! but they will serve your turn--and hers.
Con. What do you mean?
C. Wal. When you have cut her off from child and friend, and even
Isentrudis and Guta, as I hear, are thrust out by you to starve, and
she sits there, shut up like a bear in a hole, to feed on her own
substance; if she has not some of these visions to look at, how is
she, or any other of your poor self-gorged prisoners, to help
fancying herself the only creature on earth?
Con.


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