A golden casket, as she spoke, she seiz'd,
That held, till now, a hoarded useless treasure;
And through the galleries, with breathless haste,
And step precipitate, follow'd the King,
— Unknowing to what corner of the earth
To point their feet, or whom they should intrust
With their advent'rous flight. A faithful Lord,
In this sad exigence, with cordial words,
The royal fugitives thus met and cheer'd.
"O Sire! from  take the only duty
That stormy fate now suffers him to pay:
My horses wait, close to the garden walls,
With trusty knights to guide you to my castle.
Dreading the worst, I had prepar'd this refuge,
When the fell  began his fierce assault.
For  I'll stay and greet, with smiles deceitful,
ZORADOR, whom I hate, to ward, if possible,
What further ills his malice may devise."