Hugo: Welcome or not

Hugo: Welcome or not, Thanks for your greeting all. Ha, Eustace! what complaints hast thou got? What grievances to recall?

Eustace: Count William came with a numerous band, Ere the snows began to fall, And slew a buck on your lordship's land, Within a league of the wall.

Hugo: Count William has done to us no more Than we to him. In his vineyard Last summer, or later, maybe, a boar Was slaughter'd by Thurston's whinyard.

Thurston: Aye, Hugo! But William kept the buck, I will wager marks a score, Though the tale is new to me; and, worse luck, You made me give back the boar.

Harold (advancing): Lord Hugo!

Hugo: What! Art thou living yet? I scarcely knew thee, Sir Dane! And 'tis not so very long since we met.

Harold: 'Twill be long ere we meet again. (gives a letter) This letter was traced by one now dead In the Holy Land; and I Must wait till his dying request is read, And in his name ask the reply.

Thora (aside): Who is that stranger, Hugo?

Hugo: By birth He is a countryman of thine, Thora. What writing is this on earth? I can scarce decipher a line.

Harold: The pen in the clutch of death works ill.

Hugo: Nay, I read now; the letters run More clearly.

Harold: Wilt grant the request?

Hugo: I will.

Harold: Enough! Then my task is done. (He holds out his hand.) Hugo, I go to a far-off land, Wilt thou say, "God speed thee!" now?

Hugo: Sir Harold, I cannot take thy hand, Because of my ancient vow.

Harold: Farewell, then.

Thora: Friend, till the morning wait. On so wild a night as this Thou shalt not go from my husband's gate; The path thou wilt surely miss.

Harold: I go. Kind lady, some future day Thy care will requited be.

Thora: Speak, Hugo, speak.

Hugo: He may go or stay, It matters little to me. [Harold goes out.]

Thora: Husband, that man is ill and weak; On foot he goes and alone Through a barren moor in a night-storm bleak.

Eric: Now I wonder where he has gone!

Hugo: Indeed, I have not the least idea; The man is certainly mad. He wedded my sister, Dorothea, And used her cruelly bad. He was once my firmest and surest friend, And once my deadliest foe; But hate and friendship both find their end— Now I heed not where he may go.