Tragic Poem of Wold, The - Act 3, Scene 1
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.
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.
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