Britain ... - Blue-Lite

THE DEVOTED ONE. [Act I.
Would stray the saints know where, and soon be lost
In this wild lonesome forest.
GODWIN.
Soul-less clod !
BORNWULF.
have thee know
A soul-less clod, indeed ! Fd
That I am thought, among the maids at home,
As brisk and merry as a summer bee.
A clod, forsooth ! What whimsey next will fill
Thy crazy-smitten brain ?
GODWIN.
Why
thou art scarce
One poor degree above the swine thou serv^st.
Thou look'st on Nature, but thine eyes discern
None of her heartfelt beauties thou canst hear
;
Her many voices, but they never come
On thy dull ears in a rich flood of music.
BORNWULF.
Why I behold skies, mountains, rocks, and trees,
And what canst thou see more ? I hear the streams
Which keep a constant brawling ;
hear the wind,
That blustering bully, and the noisy birds
Whistling, I ween, for breakfast, like a herd
Of tame hogs squeaking round their feeder when
Their wonted meal is due. I know not which
Is the most pleasing sound, the swine or birds ;
But this I know, my ears are quick as thine,
Nor is my sight more dim.
GODWIN (not heeding him.)
O, how my soul
to mix
Aspires to win renown in arms ;
In council and in camp with warrior Thanes ;
To be the leader of a gallant host ;