Tragic Poem of Wold, The - Act 3, Scene 9

SCENE IX — A Court in Wold Castle

The Duchess OF W OLD and M OUNTNORRIS

D UCH . Deal out the last o' the wine: bread for the push,
See the men get: Spare not; we'll have by sunset
Fresh stores, our gates being free. Yonder's the dawn
Curdling the east: go, take some rest, old man,
You're not just made of iron; 'twill prepare you
For what you've yet to do.
M OUNT . My gracious Lady,
I need no sleep.
D UCH . Trumpeters on the towers,
Morning defiance, blow it loud and long.
Let's round and see the posts.
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