Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene II.] THE ENGLISH SLAVE. 81
Come, come, thou wilt relent ;
Kind, gentle Dane, depart.
CATHIMAR.
ELFILIA.
and let me now,
Thou suest in vain.
Then will I raise the camp with my loud shrieks,
And call the chiefs to aid me with their swords.
CATHIMAR.
Nor cries or tears will aught avail thee here ;
For, in the absence of Rogvalla, I
Am the commander of yon dauntless bands,
And henceforth under me they march to battle.
Come, then : my
tent is filled with splendid robes
And precious gems, the spoil of many lands.
ELFILIA.
Out, fiend of darkness! Help! O righteous Heaven!
Enter Albert.
ALBERT (as he enters.)
Roam where I may, thy last despairing cries,
Elfilia, on the night-winds sound, and set
My
frenzied soul on fire. Her vision comes
Again before me ! Ha ! she lives, she lives !
And we shall part no more !
[Rushing between Elfilia and Cathimar, and
throwing him off.
CATHIMAR.
What dog art thou ?
ALBERT.
One whose strong fangs shall fasten on thy flesh
And shake thee into fragments, if again
Thou place a finger on that lovely maid.