Glycine. She is always gracious, and so praised the old man
[[923]] That his heart o'erflowed, and made discovery [155]
That in this wood—

Zapolya. O speak!

Glycine. A wounded lady—

[Zapolya faints—they both support her.

Glycine. Is this his mother?

Raab Kiuprili. She would fain believe it,
Weak though the proofs be. Hope draws towards itself
The flame with which it kindles. [Horn heard without.
To the cavern!
Quick! quick!

Glycine. Perchance some huntsmen of the king's. 160

Raab Kiuprili. Emerick?

Glycine. He came this morning—

[They retire to the cavern, bearing Zapolya. Then enter Bethlen, armed with a boar-spear.