PRISON OF THE PRINCE IN THE TOWER.
SIGISMUND, as at the commencement, clothed in skins, chained, and
lying on the ground; CLOTALDO, Two Servants, and CLARIN.
CLOTALDO. Leave him here on the ground,
Where his day,-- its pride being o'er,--
Finds its end too.
A SERVANT. As before
With the chain his feet are bound.
CLARIN. Never from that sleep profound
Wake, O Sigismund, or rise,
To behold with wondering eyes
All thy glorious life o'erthrown,
Like a shadow that hath flown,
Like a bright brief flame that dies!
CLOTALDO. One who can so wisely make
Such reflections on this case
Should have ample time and space,
Even for the Solon's sake,
[To the Servant.]
To discuss it; him you'll take
To this cell here, and keep bound.
[Pointing to an adjoining room]
CLARIN. But why me?
CLOTALDO. Because 'tis found
Safe, when clarions secrets know,
Clarions to lock up, that so
They may not have power to sound.
CLARIN. Did I, since you treat me thus,
Try to kill my father? No.
Did I from the window throw
That unlucky Icarus?
Is my drink somniferous?
Do I dream? Then why be pent?
CLOTALDO. 'Tis a clarion's punishment.
CLARIN. Then a horn of low degree,
Yea, a cornet I will be,
A safe, silent instrument.
[They take him away, and CLOTALDO remains alone.]
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