STRALENHEIM _and_ FRITZ.
_Fritz_. All's ready, my good Lord!
_Stral._ I am not sleepy,
And yet I must to bed: I fain would say
To rest, but something heavy on my spirit,
Too dull for wakefulness, too quick for slumber,
Sits on me as a cloud along the sky,
Which will not let the sunbeams through, nor yet
Descend in rain and end, but spreads itself
'Twixt earth and heaven, like envy between man
And man, an everlasting mist:--I will
Unto my pillow.
_Fritz_. May you rest there well! 10
_Stral._ I feel, and fear, I shall.
_Fritz_. And wherefore fear?
_Stral._ I know not why, and therefore do fear more,
Because an undescribable----but 'tis
All folly. Were the locks as I desired
Changed, to-day, of this chamber? for last night's
Adventure makes it needful.
_Fritz_. Certainly,
According to your order, and beneath
The inspection of myself and the young Saxon
Who saved your life. I think they call him "Ulric."
_Stral._ You _think!_ you supercilious slave! what right 20
Have you to _tax your_ memory, which should be
Quick, proud, and happy to retain the _name_
Of him who saved your master, as a litany
Whose daily repetition marks your duty.--
Get hence; "_You think_" indeed! you, who stood still
Howling and dripping on the bank, whilst I
Lay dying, and the stranger dashed aside
The roaring torrent, and restored me to
Thank him--and despise you. "_You think!_" and scarce
Can recollect his name! I will not waste 30
More words on you. Call me betimes.
_Fritz_. Good night!
I trust to-morrow will restore your Lordship
To renovated strength and temper. [_The scene closes_.