ACT FIRST. THE CONSPIRATORS
67
Seeks for a place to strike him, it may be
He holds the thread that makes your arm to move.
So tremble, Ormond.
Ormond. Leave me, good my lord.
I kiss your lordship's hand.
[Exit Lord Broghill; the door closes behind him.
Scene 2.—Lord Ormond [alone.
Let's think no more on 't.
[He resumes his seat and seems lost in thought. While he muses, a voice is heard, constantly drawing nearer, and singing the following words to a lively tune:
A soldier, stern-faced wight,
A page detains one night,
A page of roguish bearing.
"My bonny page, beware!
Whither so early faring,
When the streets deserted are,
Your satin doublet wearing?"
"Beneath my cloak I bear
A long sword and guitar;
And a tryst to keep I'm out, sir.
I many a rebel tame,
And many a husband flout, sir;
My guitar is for the dame,
And my sword for the jealous lout, sir."
[The voice breaks off. Some one knocks at the door at the back of the stage. Then the voice resumes.
