was true--I thank her--I thank God--
This too I needed. I had built myself
A Babel-tower, whose top should reach to heaven,
Of poor men's praise and prayers, and subtle pride
At mine own alms. 'Tis crumbled into dust!
Oh! I have leant upon an arm of flesh--
And here's its strength! I'll walk by faith--by faith
And rest my weary heart on Christ alone--
On him, the all-sufficient!
Shame on me! dreaming thus about myself,
While you stand shivering here. [To her little Son.]
Art cold, young knight?
Knights must not cry--Go slide, and warm thyself.
Where shall we lodge to-night?

Isen. There's no place open,
But that foul tavern, where we lay last night.

Elizabeth's Son [clinging to her]. O mother, mother! go not to that
house--
Among those fierce lank men, who laughed, and scowled,
And showed their knives, and sang strange ugly songs
Of you and us. O mother! let us be!

Eliz. Hark! look! His father's voice!--his very eye--
Opening so slow and sad, then sinking down
In luscious rest again!

Isen. Bethink you, child--

Eliz. Oh yes--I'll think--we'll to our tavern friends;
If they be brutes, 'twas my sin left them so.

Guta. 'Tis but for a night or two: three days will bring
The Abbess hither.

Isen. And then to Bamberg straight
For knights and men-at-arms! Your uncle's wrath--

Guta [aside]. Hush! hush! you'll fret her, if you talk of
vengeance.

Isen. Come to our shelter.

Children. Oh stay here, stay here!
Behind these walls.

Eliz. Ay--stay a while in peace. The storms are still.
Beneath her eider robe the patient earth
Watches in silence for the sun: we'll sit
And gaze up with her at the changeless heaven,
Until this tyranny be overpast.
Come. [aside] Lost! Lost! Lost!
[They enter a neighbouring ruin.]

SCENE III

A Chamber in the Bishop's Palace at Bamberg. Elizabeth and Guta.

Guta. You have determined?

Eliz. Yes--to go with him.
I have kept my oath too long to break it now.
I will to Marpurg, and there waste away
In meditation and in pious deeds,
Till God shall set me free.

Guta. How if your uncle
Will have you marry? Day and night, they say,
He talks of nothing else.

Eliz. Never, girl, never!
Save me from that at least, O God!

Guta. He spoke
Of giving us, your maidens, to his knights
In carnal wedlock: but I fear him not:
For God's own word is pledged to keep me pure--
I am a maid.

Eliz. And I, alas! am none!
O Guta! dost thou mo