Britain ... - Blue-Lite

THE VARANGIAN. [Act IV.
JUDITH.
Not for a monarch's weregeld,
Waltheof, no,
not for all
Thy life is worth to me ! I'll seek the King:
He loves me passing well. I will disclose
The fatal plot, how thou hast been beguiled,
Thy deep repentance, and thy merits plead,
Nor cease till I have brought thy pardon sealed.
WALTHEOF.
Didst thou not hear a voice ?
JUDITH.
What voice, my
WALTHEOF.
No matter, 'twas but fancy. Still those strange
lord ?
Mysterious words are ringing in mine ears,
" Beware thy Norman wife !" Was that vile slave
Who from his dungeon 'scaped, some fiend disguised
In human shape, that ever thus he haunts me,
Viewless as air, yet with a mortal voice ?
I hear him now. It is some evil omen !
Go, Judith, to the : King I will not be
Misdeemful of thy truth. Ha ! now I hear
Those horrid words again, more deep and loud :
That hollow voice is from the depths of hell.
Dark fiend, avaunt ! thine accents madden me. \Eccit.
JUDITH.
So high stood he in honour, this false step
In his self-condemnation darkens all
His former brightness, and such thoughts do mar
His brain-sick reason.
Enter Matilda.
Glorious news have I
To tell thee. But we must not waste the time