more,
Than the most open warfare.

_Eric_. But Count Ulric--
What has all this to do with him?

_Hen._ With him!
He----might prevent it. As you say he's fond
Of war, why makes he it not on those marauders?

_Eric_. You'd better ask himself.

_Hen._ I would as soon
Ask the lion why he laps not milk.

_Eric_. And here he comes!

_Hen._ The devil! you'll hold your tongue? 60

_Eric_. Why do you turn so pale?

_Hen._ 'Tis nothing--but
Be silent.

_Eric_. I will, upon what you have said.

_Hen._ I assure you I meant nothing,--a mere sport
Of words, no more; besides, had it been otherwise,
He is to espouse the gentle Baroness
Ida of Stralenheim, the late Baron's heiress;
And she, no doubt, will soften whatsoever
Of fierceness the late long intestine wars
Have given all natures, and most unto those
Who were born in them, and bred up upon 70
The knees of Homicide; sprinkled, as it were,
With blood even at their baptism. Prithee, peace
On all that I have said!

_Enter_ ULRIC _and_ RODOLPH.

Good morrow, count.

_Ulr._ Good morrow, worthy Henrick. Eric, is
All ready for the chase?

_Eric_. The dogs are ordered
Down to the forest, and the vassals out
To beat the bushes, and the day looks promising.
Shall I call forth your Excellency's suite?
What courser will you please to mount?

_Ulr._ The dun,
Walstein.

_Eric_. I fear he scarcely has recovered 80
The toils of Monday: 'twas a noble chase:
You speared _four_ with your own hand.

_Ulr._ True, good Eric;
I had forgotten--let it be the grey, then,
Old Ziska: he has not been out this fortnight.

_Eric_. He shall be straight caparisoned. How many
Of your immediate retainers shall
Escort you?

_Ulr._ I leave that to Weilburgh, our
Master of the horse. [_Exit_ ERIC.
Rodolph!

_Rod._ My Lord!

_Ulr._ The news
Is awkward from the----