Britain ... - Blue-Lite

10 THE ENGLISH SLAVE. [Act I.
Mine own begotten one. 'Tis twenty years
More, by St. Cuthbert since that boy was placed,
A little changeling, in my husband's arms
(As o'er our evening fire we sat) by some
Dark-visaged chief, who made us, trembling, swear
The boy should be as ours ; and ne'er to blab
In mortal ear the tale, till he again
Appeared to claim him. A foul-featured deed,
I ween, done in some quarter, save that he
Were a sweet child brought out of fairy-land.
No tidings since have come from that wild chief.
'Tis time this secret should be sent abroad :
How I have kept it here so long locked up,
I know not. But where stays the fair Elfilia ?
She is another mystery ! O, I'd give
What would I not give, could I now but reach
The bottom of these secrets ! [Exit.
SCENE II. A magnificent Hall in the Castle of
Lydford, hung with rich tapestry. (9)
Enter Evanda and Bertha.
EVANDA.
Stars of my destiny, when will ye cease
To pour your wrathful vials on my head !
How fatal was that battle-hour to me,
When on the southern coast of this great isle,
Which long hath trembled at the Northman's power,
The stalwart Earl of Devon, at midnight watch,
Assailed our slumbering camp, and to his ships
Rogvalla, Prince of Danish warriors, drove,
While I was sent a captive to these towers !