I see thy quivering lip, thy fiery eye,

   Forerun a storm of passion. To prevent thee

   From terms too harsh, perhaps, for thee to offer,

   Or me to hear (poor as I seem) with honour,

   I will cut short thy interrogatories,

   And on this theme give thee the full extent

   Of all I know, or thou canst wish to learn.

 Count. Do it.

 Theod. Without a view to thwart thy purpose.

   (Be what it might), was I within thy walls.

   In a dim passage of the castle-aisles,

   Musing alone, I heard a hasty tread,

   And breath drawn short, like one in fear of peril.

   A lady enter'd, fair she seem'd, and young,

   Guiding her timorous footsteps by a lamp;

   "The lord, the tyrant of this place, (she cried)

   For a detested purpose, follows me;

   Aid me, good youth:" then pointing to the ground,

   "That door," she added, "leads to sanctuary."

   I seiz'd an iron hold, and, while I tugg'd

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