Abb. He left a babe—its fate unknown to me.
Aus. What greater need than that which now afflicts us?
Abb. I have not laid me down to rest, for months,
Without impatient hope I might be called,
Before night visited again these walls,
To yield the sacred weapon.
[Knocking.
Aus. Hark! that tumult!
Abb. May righteous Heaven forfend no danger nigh.
Let us withdraw behind this massy pillar,
Lest we create suspicion.
Enter Valancour, and Monks.
Val. To the abbot!—
We have an embassy to him, on which
The fate of France may rest.
Abb. Dost hear? Release me.[Advances.
Who thus disturbs the peaceful hours of night,
And what thy purpose?
Val. This: in the king's name,
We here demand a sword which in the keeping
Of this house has long been held.