. The daughter, please your highness,
Of Andreas, King of Hungary, your better;
And your son's spouse.

Soph. I had forgotten, truly--
And you, Dame Isentrudis, are her servant,
And mine: come, Agnes, leave the gipsy ladies
To say their prayers, and set the Saints the fashion.

[Sophia and Agnes go out.]

Isen. Proud hussy! Thou shalt set thy foot on her neck yet,
darling,
When thou art Landgravine.

Eliz. And when will that be?
No, she speaks truth! I should have been a nun.
These are the wages of my cowardice,--
Too weak to face the world, too weak to leave it!

Guta. I'll take the veil with you.

Eliz. 'Twere but a moment's work,--
To slip into the convent there below,
And be at peace for ever. And you, my nurse?

Isen. I will go with thee, child, where'er thou goest.
But Lewis?

Eliz. Ah! my brother! No, I dare not--
I dare not turn for ever from this hope,
Though it be dwindled to a thread of mist.
Oh that we two could flee and leave this Babel!
Oh if he were but some poor chapel-priest,
In lonely mountain valleys far away;
And I his serving-maid, to work his vestments,
And dress his scrap of food, and see him stand
Before the altar like a rainbowed saint;
To take the blessed wafer from his hand,
Confess my heart to him, and all night long
Pray for him while he slept, or through the lattice
Watch while he read, and see the holy thoughts
Swell in his big deep eyes!--Alas! that dream
Is wilder than the one that's fading even now!
Who's here? [A Page enters.]

Page. The Count of Varila, Madam, begs permission to speak with
you.

Eliz. With me? What's this new terror?
Tell him I wait him.

Isen [aside]. Ah! my old heart sinks--
God send us rescue! Here the champion comes.

[Count Walter enters.]

Wal. Most learned, fair, and sanctimonious Princess--
Plague, what comes next? I had something orthodox ready;
'Tis dropped out by the way.--Mass! here's the pith on't.--
Madam, I come a-wooing; and for one
Who is as only worthy of your love,
As you of his; he bids me claim the spousals
Made long ago between you,--and yet leaves
Your fancy free, to grant or pass that claim:
And being that Mercury is not my planet,
He hath advised himself to set herein,
With pen and ink, what seemed good to him,
As passport to this jewelled mirror, pledge
Unworthy of his worship. [Gives a letter and jewel.]

Isen. Nunc Domine dimittis servam tuam!

[Elizabeth looks over the letter and c