Bethlen. Bathory's!
Where is my father? Answer, or——Ha! gone!
[Laska during this time retires from the Stage.
Glycine. Oh, heed not him! I saw you pressing onward,
And did but feign alarm. Dear gallant youth, [250]
It is your life they seek!
Bethlen. My life?
Glycine. Alas,
Lady Sarolta even—
Bethlen. She does not know me!
Glycine. Oh that she did! she could not then have spoken
With such stern countenance. But though she spurn me,
I will kneel, Bethlen—
Bethlen. Not for me, Glycine! [255]
What have I done? or whom have I offended?
Glycine. Rash words, 'tis said, and treasonous of the king.
[Bethlen mutters to himself.