E USTACE , T HURSTON , and followers of H UGO . H AROLD .

Enter, by the hall door, Hugo, Eric, and Thora. Eustace (and others standing up) :

Welcome, Lord Hugo! Hugo:

Welcome or not,
 Thanks for your greeting all.
Ha, Eustace! what complaints hast thou got?
 What grievances to recall? Eustace:

Count William came with a numerous band,
 Ere the snows began to fall,
And slew a buck on your lordship's land,
 Within a league of the wall. Hugo:

Count William has done to us no more
 Than we to him. In his vineyard
Last summer, or later may be, a boar
 Was slaughter'd by Thurston's whinyard. Thurston:

Aye, Hugo! But William kept the buck,
 I will wager marks a score,
Though the tale is new to me; and, worse luck,
 You made me give back the boar. Harold (advancing) :

Lord Hugo! Hugo :
What! Art thou living yet?
 I scarcely knew thee, Sir Dane!
And 'tis not so very long since we met. Harold:

 'Twill be long ere we meet again ( gives a letter ).
This letter was traced by one now dead
 In the Holy Land; and I
Must wait till his dying request is read,
 And in his name ask the reply. Thora (aside):

Who is that stranger, Hugo? Hugo:

By birth
 He is a countryman of thine,
Thora. What writing is this on earth?
 I can scarce decipher a line. Harold:

The pen in the clutch of death works ill. Hugo:

 Nay, I read now; the letters run
More clearly. Harold :

Wilt grant the request? Hugo:

I will. Harold :

 Enough! Then my task is done. ( He holds out his hand ).
Hugo, I go to a far-off land,
 Wilt thou say, “God speed thee!” now? Hugo :

Sir Harold, I cannot take thy hand,
 Because of my ancient vow. Harold :

Farewell, then. Thora :

Friend, till the morning wait.
 On so wild a night as this
Thou shalt not go from my husband's gate,
 The path thou wilt surely miss. Harold :

I go. Kind lady, some future day
 Thy care will requited be. Thora :

Speak, Hugo, speak. Hugo :

He may go or stay,
It matters little to me. Thora :

Husband, that man is ill and weak;
 On foot he goes, and alone,
Through a barren moor in a night-storm bleak Eric :

Now I wonder where he has gone! Hugo :

Indeed, I have not the least idea;
 The man is certainly mad.
He wedded my sister, Dorothea,
 And used her cruelly bad.
He was once my firmest and surest friend,
 And once my deadliest foe;
But hate and friendship both find their end—
 Now I heed not where he may go.