itude, for here there are
No soldiers nor mailed feet.

[_Again heard._

Hark! once again.
Nay, I must curb these fancies.

_Enter_ Child.

_Child._ Gentle lady.

_Ire._ Speak, little one. Come hither.

_Child._ Gentle lady,
My father, who is Warder of this tower,
Bade me come hither and ask thee if thou wouldst
That I should hold thy distaff, or might render
Some other service.

_Ire._ Ay, child; a good thought.
Bring me my spinning-wheel.

[Child _brings it._

_Ire. (spinning)._ The light is fading fast, but I would choose
This twilight, if thou wilt not be afraid
Of the darkness, little one.

_Child._ Nay, that I am not,
With one so good as thou.

_Ire._ Nay, child, it may be
I am not all thou think'st me.

_Child._ But, dear lady,
Are not all noble ladies good?

_Ire._ Not all,
Nor many, maybe.

_Child._ To be sure they are not,
Else were they not imprisoned.

_Ire._ Little one,
Not all who pine in prison are not good,
Nor innocent who go free.

_Child._ The Lady Gycia,
Is she not good?

_Ire._ It may be that she is.
'Tis a vile world, my child.

_Child._ Nay, I am sure
The Lady Gycia is as white and pure
As are the angels. When my mother died
She did commend me to her, and she promised
To keep me always.

_Ire._ But she sent me here.

_Child._ Ah! lady, then I fear thou art not good.
I am sorry for thee.

_Ire._ So, my child, am I.

[_The tramp of armed feet is heard again._

_Child._ Ah! lady, what is that? I am afraid.
What means that noise?

_Ire._ What didst thou hear, my child?

_Child._ A tramp of armed men and ring of mail.

_Ire._ Then, 'tis no fancy of my weary brain.
If it comes again I must inquire into it.
'Tis passing strange. Be not afraid, my child.
'Twas but the wind which echoed through the void
Of the vast storehouses below us. Come,

[_Spinning._

Let us to spinning. Twirl and twirl and twirl;
'Tis a strange task.

_Child._ Lady, I love it dearly.
My mother span, and I would sit by her
The livelong day.

_Ire