Britain ... - Blue-Lite

56 THE ENGLISH SLAVE. [Act IV.
To battle with the haughty Thane of Devon,
Who holds Evanda captive in his halls.
Let me but free her from this Saxon's power,
And then, ye dauntless lions of the sea,
Shall fire and sword make one wide desolation,
And plunder be your valour's bright reward.
Ho! Cathimar.
CATHIMAR.
Here, my valiant leader.
ROGVALLA.
Take thou my helm, the motion of whose plumes
The courses of the unruly winds can change,
Or sink them into silence ; and this shield
Of blazing gold, invulnerable to lance,
Arrow, and sword of foe, for it was forged
By fairy dwarfs amid their secret caves,
32 Rich with refulgent ore and starry gems, ( )
Then, by the maids of death, cooled in the fount
Which flows beneath Valhalla's throne of light,
These, in my absence, as vicegerent wear,
And rule till I return.
CATHIMAR.
With joy and hope
That thou, young warrior, wilt appear no more
To claim them at my hands. [Aside.
ROGVALLA.
I'll Bring my disguise.
seek this western Earl,
And, as a wandering harper,
in his halls
With music's sweet enchantment charm the serpent
To swift destruction.
Enter Albert.
Who art thou ? A Saxon ?