About you; and this momentary gleam
Of glory that you think to hold life-fast,
So coming, so shall vanish, as a dream.

SEG.
He prophesies; the old man prophesies;
And, at his trumpet's summons, from the tower
The leash-bound shadows loosen'd after me
My rising glory reach and over-lour--
But, reach not I my height, he shall not hold,
But with me back to his own darkness!

(He dashes toward the throne and is enclosed by the soldiers.)

Traitors!
Hold off! Unhand me!--Am not I your king?
And you would strangle him!--
But I am breaking with an inward Fire
Shall scorch you off, and wrap me on the wings
Of conflagration from a kindled pyre
Of lying prophecies and prophet-kings
Above the extinguish'd stars--Reach me the sword
He flung me--Fill me such a bowl of wine
As that you woke the day with--

KING.
And shall close,--
But of the vintage that Clotaldo knows.

(Exeunt.)