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370 THE VARANGIAN. [Act IV.
OSMOND.
Since those good kings
Are all departed, better 'twere, I trow,
That thou shouldst quickly follow, and become
Their boon companion : though, perchance, among
So many heavenly harpers, thou wilt find
Thy craft engrossed, and little need of thee.
LAN-IVAN.
Thine is the pride, the adventitious pride,
Of lofty birth, and mine of loftier genius.
Thou art a soldier : but, my lord, thy fame,
If fame thou hast, shall perish,
like the cloud
That passeth in its evening pomp away,
If no illustrious bard arise to sing
Thy battle-deeds. Yes ; thy proud
name shall be
Forgotten, with thy horses, dogs, and slaves
That on thy bounty feed. But when thy halls
Of banquet-revelry all silent lie
In lone, weed-hidden ruins, when thy form,
That now so proudly glows with joyous life,
Shall be dissolved, and its component parts
Hurled to the elements that
clip us round
As it though ne'er had been,
The poet's wreath shall be as fresh and green
As when in music o'er his
harp-strings rolled
The living tide of song. And so farewell,
Lord Dorset ! [Exit.
OSMOND.
For this I'll have, ere long, his eyes torn out 42
!
( )
By all
-
JUDITH.
Nay, gentle Osmond, take no heed
Of what this man hath uttered. Bards, thou know'st,