Gersa. Patience! Not here; I would not spill thy blood
Here, underneath this roof where Otho breathes,—
Thy father,—almost mine,

Ludolph. O, faltering coward!

Enter Page

Page. My lord

Ludolph. What wouldst say?

Page. They are fled!

Ludolph. They! Who?

Page. When anxiously
I hastened back, your grieving messenger,
I found the stairs all dark, the lamps extinct,
And not a foot or whisper to be heard.
I thought her dead, and on the lowest step
Sat listening; when presently came by
Two muffled up,—one sighing heavily,
The other cursing low, whose voice I knew
For the Duke Conrad’s. Close I followed them
Thro’ the dark ways they chose to the open air,
And, as I followed, heard my lady speak.

Ludolph. Thy life answers the truth!

Page. The chamber’s empty!

Ludolph. As I will be of mercy! So, at last,
This nail is in my temples!

Gersa. Be calm in this.

Ludolph. I am.

Gersa. And Albert, too, has disappeared;
Ere I met you, I sought him everywhere;
You would not hearken.

Ludolph. Which way went they, boy?

Gersa. I’ll hunt with you.

Ludolph. No, no, no. My senses are
Still whole. I have survived. My arm is strong—
My appetite sharp—for revenge! I’ll no sharer
In my feast; my injury is all my own,
And so is my revenge, my lawful chattels!
Terrier, ferret them out! Burn—burn the witch!
Trace me their footsteps! Away!

[Exeunt.