Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene I.] THE DEVOTED ONE. 119
The dreaded witch of Thorswold glen, what time,
Last night, the golden star of eve arose.
BOltNWULF.
Sweet saints protect us ! Ay,
'tis she that hath
Bewitched thee thus. Thou'rt labouring now, I see,
Under some powerful spell.
To-night across the threshold. (*)
GODWIN.
I'll put two straws
Once in thy life
Thou, beetle-headed sage ! hast wisely spoken.
I am indeed beneath a potent spell,
The spell of future greatness.
" Hail, brave Earl !
For such thou shalt be," cried the :
prophetess
" Thrice hail, thou father of a !
mighty king
Who born to conquer, yet subdued will fall.
A queen shall be thy daughter, England's queen,
A virgin queen, yet wedded to a king!
More seek not thou to know." Mysterious words !
BORNWULF.
Mad ! raving mad ! Well, I'll go seek the hogs,
Whose heads have wiser notions far than thine.
There is some sense in them, but none in thee.
GODWIN.
There have been many, with proud deeds emblazed
In fame's bright chronicles, who wisely caught
The fair advantage of the times on which
Their fortune cast them ; but who still had trudged
Through life's dull pilgrimage in peace,
and found
A mean unlaurelled grave, had not stern war
And stormy faction, like a swelling flood,
To glory onward borne them. These are days
To call me into action ;
action will beget,
If bravely carried, fame,
and fame bring honours,
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[Ecoit.