Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene II.l THE VARANGIAN. 287
Mend a bad face. And then for speed, how brief
Hath been my phrase on such most weighty subjects !
O, by my soulscot, I do love to tell
My stories with the haste I often count,
At drowsy night, my paternoster
belt.
KING.
Thrice-croaking raven, peace ! Long
hath this isle
Held out against my power. A Norman fleet
Shall on the sea-side hem these rebels round.
I'll have this wild Varangian, though I pawn
My
diadem to raise eternal fleets
And armies for the war !
ivo.
It is in vain :
No mortal power can that freebooter quell,
Or I had brought him down. But he doth wear
Enchanted armour, and a hell-charmed life ;
For he in infant blood hath been baptized
By witches in their dark and unknown caves,
The Devil standing sponsor. Why, my lord,
His very name will make a legion flee !
I was the only man that firmly stood
Among five hundred, when he last approached
Our forest citadel ; and but for me
No matter : I detest a boasting soldier.
Thou art a prodigy,
KING.
Self-love, which others cherish.
so much thou lack'st
ivo.
Nay,
let not
My lord the King o'ermete my poor deserts.
'Tis true, they say I wonders have performed ;
Greater 1 yet may do. But let me counsel