Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/435

OTHUS.

Then it is he! (Tearing off the covering eagerly from the head of Constantine.)

O thou brave heart! thou hast got to thy rest

With honour: heav'n be praised that thou hast!
Here round thee our last gathering point shall be:
Here will we fight, nor shall thy honour'd body
Suffer, whilst one of us has strength to fight,
The slightest insult.

RODRIGO.

Ay, they shall hack us into raven's meat,

Ere on his gallant corpse there be impress'd

One touch of impious hands! (A loud noise of shrieking and terror heard without.)

OTHUS.

Hear those wild cries of terror and despair,

Mix'd with the din of carnage! Now those cowards,
Who let this brave man sink for lack of aid,
Are suff'ring that which, in his fellest pinch,
The valiant never suffers.
But see, the enemy again returns
With doubled fury!

RODRIGO.

Come they? then we are ready for them. Yonder

Stands a small walled dome, within whose portal
We for a time may face ten thousand foes: