Britain ... - Blue-Lite

402 THE VARANGIAN. [Act V.
Who can deny thee nothing, his consent
To claim my bridal hand ?
OSMOND.
It may not be ;
I sorely grieve
for 'tis decreed that I
The Lady Eva, his fair ward, shall wed,
The richest Saxon heiress in my Earldom.
False, lying
villain !
False, if the tale were true,
JUDITH.
as Hell can make thee !
Thou hast destroyed me ! stabbed my peace, my honour,
And sunk me in perdition ! All my dreams
Of promised bliss are fled. I, who so late
Floated on Hope's bright sea, am shipwrecked, lost ;
And thou, dissembling, smiling, cheating fiend,
This storm hast raised to dash me on the rocks,
Where I am left to perish !
OSMOND.
By fair knighthood !
I may with better justice cast on thee
The odium of I
deception. had made
A glorious
choice in such a soft, mild wife,
Whose tongue the noisy ocean would out-voice.
JUDITH.
Would, for thy perjury, I might see thee dashed
Headlong from some vast precipice amid
The depths of ocean ! hear thy last faint cries,
As round and round thy form whirled down the air,
Like th' eagle by the hunter's death-shaft pierced !
OSMOND.
Deeply beholden am I for thy good wishes ;
And let me tell thee, lady, in return,
The man that mates himself, ere he hath proved