Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/367

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OTHO THE GREAT.
351
 Sigifred. Be not so rash; wait till his wrath shall pass,Until his royal spirit softly ebbsSelf-influenced; then, in his morning dreamsHe will forgive thee, and awake in griefTo have not thy good-morrow.
 Ludolph.Yes, to-dayI must be there, while her young pulses beatAmong the new-plumed minions of the war.Have you seen her of late? No? Auranthe,Franconia's fair sister, 'tis I mean.She should be paler for my troublous days—And there it is—my father's iron lipsHave sworn divorcement 'twixt me and my right.
 Sigifred (aside). Auranthe! I had hoped this whim had pass'd.
 Ludolph. And, Sigifred, with all his love of justice,When will he take that grandchild in his arms,That, by my love I swear, shall soon be his?This reconcilement is impossible,For see—but who are these?
 Sigifred.They are messengersFrom our great emperor; to you I doubt not,For couriers are abroad to seek you out.
Enter Theodore and Gonfred.
 Theodore. Seeing so many vigilant eyes exploreThe province to invite your highness backTo your high dignities, we are too happy.
 Gonfred. We have no eloquence to color justlyThe emperor's anxious wishes.
 Ludolph.Go. I follow you.[Exeunt Theodore and Gonfred. 
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