Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene I.] THE ENGLISH SLAVE. 59
And o'er his shoulders fling the minstrel's vest.
Prepare our tents, and keep good watch and ward.
IVOR.
And wilt thou trust thee with this stalwart Saxon ?
ROGVALLA.
Trust him ? Ay, would I, by my golden bracelets, 34
( )
Though he possessed the strength of twenty Saxons.
There is an open, fearless honesty
Imprinted on his brow ; and in that eye
No base dissimulation darkly clouds
The flashing of its
spirit-lighted fire.
ALBERT.
Thou read'st me, warrior, rightly.
I would joy
The fiercest that e'er wielded blade to meet
In a death- wrestle for the prize of fame ;
But let him my protection claim, and I
In his defence this heart's life-blood would spill.
ROOVALLA.
If I return in safety, thou shalt have
Plunder and high command.
ALBERT.
Deeply, young chief,
Have I been wronged by Saxon lords and tyrants,
And from my birth in galling bondage held ;
Yet let this sword-arm from my trunk be lopped,
Ere I will lift it to destroy my country.
Give me a battle-axe, and lead me on
To other lands and other isles than England,
And I as brave a name in arms will win
As ever echoed round your northern shores.
ROGVALLA.
Take these my golden bracelets. Thou shalt be
My brother until death. At our return,