Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene II. 1 THE VARANGIAN. 383
No peace for England while one Saxon Thane
Hath leave to wear a head !
But I will make
Her provinces the dwelling-place of death,
Till none remain to hide the unburied dead.
Rather than yield my sword-enguarded throne,
Or thus be bearded by eternal treason.
More yet remains,
JUDITH.
woe worth the tongue that tells !
Norfolk hath wedded Lady Isabelle,
And now with Hereford proclaims rebellion,
An army gathering hitherward to march
And join Prince Edgar's banners.
KING.
Those Normans, too ! Heaven's crimson vengeance quail
them !
But how, good, gentle niece, didst thou obtain
The knowledge of this plot ?
I shame to speak it,
JUDITH.
Ah me ! my
lord,
from that thankless man,
That Saxon Thane, to whom thou badest me give
My hand in marriage, on his worthlessness
Conferring titles, rank, and high command.
He the conspirators,
at banquet hour,
Met in St. Alban's halls, and bowed the knee
In homage to this Edgar, on the winds
Casting his perjured loyalty and faith
Sworn to his rightful prince.
KING.
He shall for this
Bow to the headsman's block, though by his death
I every Saxon heart in England lose !