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Sel. This much amazes me: the moon was dark. And cold and rudely blew the northern blast.

''Dwi. (listening.)'' Hark! footsteps sound along the secret passage: Look to yon door, for something moves the bolt. The king alone that secret entry treads.

''Ethw. (recovering from his confusion.)'' A good and early morrow to you all; I little thought—You are astir by times.

Eth. The same to you, my Lord, with loving duty.

Sel. And you, too, royal brother, you are moving At an unwonted hour. But you are pale; A ghastly hollow look is in your eyes; What sudden stratagem of nightly war Has call'd you forth at such untimely season? The night was dark and cold, the north wind blew, And, if that I can read that alter'd brow, You come not back unscath'd.

''Ethw. (confused.)'' No, I am well.—The blast has beat against me, And tossing boughs my tangled path-way cross'd— In sooth I've held contention with the night.

Sel. Yea, in good sooth, thou lookest, too, like one Who has contention held with damned sprites. Hast thou not cross'd that glen where, as 'tis said. The restless ghost of a dead murd'rer stalks?