Laska. Glycine?

Bethlen. Nay! Dare I accuse wise Laska,
Whose words find access to a monarch's ear,
[[931]] Of a base, braggart lie? It must have been
Her spirit that appeared to me. But haply [170]
I come too late? It has itself delivered
Its own commission to you?

Old Bathory. 'Tis most likely!
And the ghost doubtless vanished, when we entered
And found brave Laska staring wide—at nothing!

Laska. 'Tis well! You've ready wits! I shall report them, 175
With all due honour, to his Majesty!
Treasure them up, I pray! A certain person,
Whom the king flatters with his confidence,
Tells you, his royal friend asks startling questions!
'Tis but a hint! And now what says the ghost! [180]

Bethlen. Listen! for thus it spake: 'Say thou to Laska,
Glycine, knowing all thy thoughts engrossed
In thy new office of king's fool and knave,
Foreseeing thou'lt forget with thine own hand
To make due penance for the wrongs thou'st caused her, 185
For thy soul's safety, doth consent to take it
From Bethlen's cudgel'—thus. [Beats him off.
Off! scoundrel! off!

[Laska runs away.

Old Bathory. The sudden swelling of this shallow dastard
Tells of a recent storm: the first disruption
Of the black cloud that hangs and threatens o'er us. 190

Bethlen. E'en this reproves my loitering. Say where lies
The oratory?

Old Bathory. Ascend yon flight of stairs!
Midway the corridor a silver lamp
Hangs o'er the entrance of Sarolta's chamber,
And facing it, the low arched oratory! 195
Me thou'lt find watching at the outward gate:
For a petard might burst the bars, unheard
By the drenched porter, and Sarolta hourly
Expects Lord Casimir, spite of Emerick's message!

Bethlen. There I will meet you! And till then good-night! 200
Dear good old man, good-night!