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CONJUROR.

Approach, great dame.

VALERIA.

Yes, in misfortunes so;

That is my eminence: and unto thee
I come, an anxious suitor, if that truly
Th' unseen mysterious powers with whom thou deal'st,
To human weal and woe alliance bear,
And may unto the care-rack'd mind foreshew
The path of awful fate that lies before it.
I do beseech thee!——

CONJUROR.

Say thou dost command;

For thro' that sable stole, were it as thick
As midnight's curtain, still I could behold
Thy keenly-glancing eye, and the dark arch
Of royal brows accustom'd to command.

VALERIA.

Ha! dost thou see me?

CONJUROR.

Yea; and who is he,

Whose shadowy unreal form behind thee towers,
As link'd with thine tho' absent? O'er his head
Th' imperial eagle soars, and in his hand
He grasps the emblem of supreme command.