It is well! Successful mayst thou be, And all the way that thou dost ride, Our blessings follow thee.

[_Curtain._ ACT II.
SCENE.

_Room in Ogre's tower.

Princess Winsome kneeling with arm around Dog's neck._ _Princess._ _Art_ thou my brother?
Can it be That thou hast taken such shape?
Oh turn those sad eyes not on me! There _must_ be some escape.
And yet our parents think us dead.
No doubt they weep this very hour, For no one ever has escaped, Ere this, the Ogre's power.
Oh cruel fate! We can but die! Each moment seems a week.
_Is_ there no hope?
Oh, Hero dear, If thou couldst only speak! But no! Within this tower room We're captive, and despair Must settle on us.

'Tis the doom Of all dragged up yon winding stair.
[_Drops her head and weeps.