).

Stay then, and risk your heads, if so ye will,
You've nearly lost them once. I'll save myself.

KING. Ask what he means.

GARCERAN. My good man, tell, how now?

ISAAC (_to_ GARCERAN).

Ah, Sir, it is then you, our guardian!
My little Rachel speaks of you so oft;
She likes you.

KING. To the point. What babbling this--

ISAAC. Who is this lord?

GARCERAN. It makes no difference. Speak!
What is the cause of all that noise above?

ISAAC (_speaking up to the window_).

Look out, you're going to catch it--now look out!

(_To_ GARCERAN.)

Yourself have seen my little Rachel-girl,
And how she wept and groaned and beat her breasts,
As if half crazed. Of course you have, my life!--
She hardly knew the danger had been passed
When back again her old high spirits came;
She laughed, and danced, and sang; half mad again
She shoved awry the sacred furniture
By dead men watched, and raves--as now you hear.
Hangs from her girdle not a chatelaine?
Her keys she tries in every closet lock,
And opens all the doors along the wall.
There hang within all sorts of things to wear,
And angels, devils, beggars vie with kings
In gay attire--

KING (_aside to_ GARCERAN).
Our carnival costumes.

ISAAC. She chose, herself, a plumed crown from these,--
It was not gold, but only gilded tin--
One tells it by the weight, worth twenty pence;
About her shoulders throws a trained robe
And says she is the queen--

(_Speaking back._)

Oh yes, thou fool!
Then in the ante-chamber next, there hangs
A picture of the King, whom God preserve!
She takes it from the wall, bears it about,
Calling it husband with endearing words,
And holds it to her breast.

[KING _goes hastily toward the garden house._]

GARCERAN. Oh, mighty Sire!

ISAAC (_stepping back_).

Alas!

KING (_standing on the steps, quietly_).

That game is worth a nearer look.
Wh