Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene I.] THE ENGLISH SLAVE. 25
EDGAR.
Distraction ! 'tis my father and the Duke,
Returning this way homeward from the chase.
O, disappointed vengeance ! If I stay
They will discover me, and I shall lose
My dear Elfilia (aside.) Fly, thou dove-like maid,
The falcon is abroad ; I would not have
The Earl or Cornwall's Duke behold thee here.
ELFILIA.
The Duke of Cornwall ? All good angels save me !
O, I would fly to earth's remotest verge,
Rather than meet the Duke. Yet now to go,
And leave these lion-mettled spirits stirred
To wage a deadly strife Nay, Albert, yield ;
Let my sad tears fall like the rain from heaven,
To cool thy bosom's fire-enkindled wrath.
Thus low on bended knee do I beseech
Thee, Albert, to withdraw.
EDGAR.
Rise, loved Elfilia,
Nor humble thus thyself before a slave.
All must be told. Mark me, wild mountaineer ;
Though clad in minstrel vest, I am Lord Edgar,
Son of Devonia's Earl ;
and if thou darest,
Barren of honour and of warlike fame,
T' insult that maid with thy degrading passion,
Like a wild bull shalt thou be seized and sold
To those who traffic in the blood of men
Amid the slave-mart, and on foreign shores ( 19 )
A master find to tame thy daring spirit. [Exit.
ALBERT.
A brooklet in a storm ! Thy frothy rage
Flows idly by, and beggars my contempt ;