Lapt on this fluttering heart, while mighty heroes
Rode by her side, and far behind us stretched
The barbs and sumpter mules, a royal train,
Laden with silks and furs, and priceless gems,
Wedges of gold, and furniture of silver,
Fit for my princess.

Eliz. Hush now, I've heard all, nurse,
A thousand times.

Isen. Oh, how their hungry mouths
Did water at the booty! Such a prize,
Since the three Kings came wandering into Coln,
They ne'er saw, nor their fathers;--well they knew it!
Oh, how they fawned on us! 'Great Isentrudis!'
'Sweet babe!' The Landgravine did thank her saints
As if you, or your silks, had fallen from heaven;
And now she wears your furs, and calls us gipsies.
Come tell your nurse your griefs; we'll weep together,
Strangers in this strange land.

Eliz. I am most friendless.
The Landgravine and Agnes--you may see them
Begrudge the food I eat, and call me friend
Of knaves and serving-maids; the burly knights
Freeze me with cold blue eyes: no saucy page
But points and whispers, 'There goes our pet nun;
Would but her saintship leave her gold behind,
We'd give herself her furlough.' Save me! save me!
All here are ghastly dreams; dead masks of stone,