Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/415

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OTHO THE GREAT.
399
 Otho.I command!Open it straight;—hush!—quiet!—my lost boy! My miserable child!
 Ludolph (indistinctly without). Fill, fill my goblet,—here's a health!
 Erminia.O, close the door!
 Otho. Let, let me hear his voice; this cannot last; And fain would I catch up his dying words, Though my own knell they be! This cannot last! O let me catch his voice—for lo! I hear A whisper in this silence that he's dead! It is so! Gersa?
Enter Gersa.
 Physician.Say, how fares the prince?
 Gersa. More calm; his features are less wild and flush'd; Once he complain'd of weariness.
 Physician.Indeed!'Tis good,—'tis good; let him but fall asleep, That saves him.
 Otho.Gersa, watch him like a child;Ward him from harm,—and bring me better news!
 Physician. Humor him to the height. I fear to go; For should he catch a glimpse of my dull garb, It might affright him, fill him with suspicion That we believe him sick, which must not be.
 Gersa. I will invent what soothing means I can.[Exit Gersa. 
 Physician. This should cheer up your Highness; weariness Is a good symptom, and most favorable;
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