Mine own, mine idol! For thy sake I ask it--
I would but be a mate and help more meet
For all thy knightly virtues.

Lewis. 'Tis too true!
I have felt it long; we stand, two weakling children,
Under too huge a burden, while temptations
Like adders swarm up round: I must be led--
But thou alone shall lead me.

Eliz. I? beloved!
This load more? Strengthen, Lord, the feeble knees!

Lewis. Yes! thou, my queen, who making thyself once mine,
Hast made me sevenfold thine; I own thee guide
Of my devotions, mine ambition's lodestar,
The Saint whose shrine I serve with lance and lute;
If thou wilt have a ruler, let him be,
Through thee, the ruler of thy slave. [Kneels to her.]

Eliz. Oh, kneel not--
But grant my prayer--If we shall find this man,
As well I know him, worthy, let him be
Director of my conscience and my actions
With all but thee--Within love's inner shrine
We shall be still alone--But joy! here comes
Our embassy, successful.

[Enter Conrad, with Count Walter, Monks, Ladies, etc.]