As it went chilly downward to the grave:

But the imp stands not in my path—he has fled,

No one knows whither; and if he had not,

His claims alone were too contemptible

To stand.—Why do you smile?

Ulr.‍At your vain fears:

A poor man almost in his grasp—a child

Of doubtful birth—can startle a grandee!

Stral. All's to be feared, where all is to be gained.

Ulr. True; and aught done to save or to obtain it.410