Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene III.] THE VARANGIAN. 413
Forsake, despise, and on thy head fling curses,
I'll to thee ever kneel with love and worship,
And from mankind hid in some forest cave,
We in each other's arms shall still be blest !
HEREWARD.
But I should hate, despise, and curse myself,
And in despair of Heaven's forgiveness, live
Like the condemned in hell ! Think who thou art ;
Think of thy Grecian blood, thy princely birth,
And the proud deeds of thy renowned forefathers.
Thou canst not dwell with guilt ? Then be of comfort,
And joy to see me die a martyr's death.
KING.
Soldiers ! obey your King, and drag him hence .
LANFRANC.
I can no longer hold. My sovereign lord,
In this poor, broken-hearted lady's prayers
I, kneeling, join. As Christ, when on the cross
Forgave his murderers, so do thou forgive
This noble captive.
KING.
I will have his heart
Torn from the traitor's bosom, or the secrets
Which in that heart are lodged.
ZALMIRA.
Tyrant !
no more
My tears shall seek thy ruthless soul to move.
Unyielding as the rock.
O thou, who art
My only joy on earth, my hope in heaven,
Thy words have fired my Grecian heart with courage.
Thy gallant firmness I applaud, and fling