ACT III.

Scene I — The Mouth of Afra's Cave .

A FRA . striking her harp .

A FRA . Wold's in my Ring of Doom. Mervyn, with all
The bleeding strings of her derivative life,
Has hold far back upon the loins of kings,
Out of the which she came; but she's in too,
And so must perish with him:
So sure are the weird words uttered o'er Wold,
Whoso is knit to him must perish with him.