Tannhauser
[with sudden passion).
My squire is dead.
I am no weakling that I need
a knave
Hanging upon me— 'tis an incubus.
Landgrave.
And then your horse ?
Tannhauser.
I know not ; possibly
Kept as an hostage.
I was prisoner once.
Wolfram.
Prisoner
.■*
By here
?
Tannhauser.
A-many
castles, sir,
Held by old ogres—and not all of them
Stand in the mid-day, front the sober sun.
Answer
the slug-horn.
Landgrave.
You are pleased
to riddle.
Ever the poet
!
87