ACT I.

Scene I — The Mouth of a Cave, in the side of a rocky mountain. Wold Castle seen in the distance .

A FRA , bearing a small black harp . A FRA .

Fear the thunder, Mouse of Wold.
Fear the lobe of enemies old,
When she-hands the truncheon hold,
Thou shalt perish, Mouse of Wold.

So Merlin spake. Hear it, O House of Wold!
Fear it, thou bloody and distressful House

Orphan of Wales, my blood
Runs in no kindred veins; so stern and sheer
The black old Boar of Wold he trode us out,
What time he trampled down our ancient land.
But I shall see the vengeance! Years, long years,
To dwell with sifted winds in whistling caves,
To live upon the naked haggard edge
Of nature's last necessities, even this
Has been my joy of life! And round thee, Wold,
Winding the Curse, I walk: The tissue comes not
Out of my own frail brain: The Wizard spun it
From Fate's black head, standing far back away
I' the timeless, worldless, infinite abyss,
Fixed, all alone. I walk around thee, Wold,
A seeming simple thing; but serried spears
Of ranged men, nor walls of brass with towers
Of blue-ribbed steel, could better hem thee in,
Than does the coil of these poor naked feet,
Going around thee thus, shutting thee up
Close with the doom: Not a child's innocent head
Of all Wold's house, not a mouse could get out.