A TRAGEDY.
71
Enter Bertram from one of the doors of the prison.
I think thou had the air of an old soldier:
(To Bertram as he is hurrying past him.)
Such, without greeting, never pass me by.
Ha, Bertram! is it thee?
BERTRAM.
HARDIBRAND.
How dost thou, man? how has it far'd with thee
Since thou hast left the service?
BERTRAM.
I have no cause to grumble at my lot.
HARDIBRAND.
Thine eyes are red with weeping, and thy face
Looks ruefully.
BERTRAM.
Who is condemn'd to die.
HARDIBRAND.