Con. Awful doctrine!
1st Woman. Look at her carelessness, again—the distaff
Or woolcomb in her hands, even on her bed.
Then, when the work is done, she lets those nuns
Cheat her of half the price.
2d Woman. The Aldenburgers.
Con. Well, well, what more misdoings?
[aside] Pah! I am sick on’t.
[Aloud] Go sit, and pray by her until she wakes.
]The women retire. Conrad sits down by the fire.]
I am dwindling to a peddling chamber-chaplain,
Who hunts for crabs and ballads in maids’ sleeves,
I, who have shuffled kingdoms. Oh! ’tis easy
To beget great deeds; but in the rearing of them—
The threading in cold blood each mean detail,
And furzebrake of half-pertinent circumstance—
There lies the self-denial.
Women [in a low voice]. Master! sir! look here!
Eliz. [rising]. Have mercy, mercy, Lord!
Con. What is it, my daughter? No—she answers not—
Her eyeballs through their sealed lids are bursting,
And yet she sleeps: her body does but mimic
The absent soul’s enfranchised wanderings
In the spirit-world.
Eliz. Oh! she was but a worldling!
And think, good Lord, if that this world is hell,
What wonder if poor souls whose lot is fixed here,
Meshed down by custom, wealth, rank, pleasure, ignorance,
Do hellish things in it? Have mercy, Lord;
Even for my sake, and all my woes, have mercy!