Oh, blessed days!

Con. Ah, be not hasty, madam;
Think whom you welcome; one who has no skill
To wink and speak smooth things; whom fear of God
Constrains to daily wrath; who brings, alas!
A sword, not peace: within whose bones the word
Burns like a pent-up fire, and makes him bold
If aught in you or yours shall seem amiss,
To cry aloud and spare not; let me go--
To pray for you--as I have done long time,
Is sweeter than to chide you.

Eliz. Then your prayers
Shall drive home your rebukes; for both we need you--
Our snares are many, and our sins are more.
So say not nay--I'll speak with you apart.

[Elizabeth and Conrad retire.]

Lewis [aside]. Well, Walter mine, how like you the good legate?

Wal. Walter has seen nought of him but his eye;
And that don't please him.

Lewis. How so, sir! that face
Is pure and meek--a calm and thoughtful eye.

Wal. A shallow, stony, steadfast eye; that looks at neither man nor
beast in the face, but at something invisible a yard before him,