3.
MELNOTTE. Look you our bond is over. Proud conquerors that we are, we have won the victory over a simple girl—compromised her honour—embittered her life—blasted in their very blossoms, all the flowers of her youth. This is your triumph,—it is my shame! Enjoy that triumph, but not in my sight. I was her betrayer—I am, her protector! Cross but her path— one word of scorn, one look of insult—nay, but one quiver of that mocking lip, and I will teach thee that bitter word thou hast graven eternally in this heart—Repentance!
BEAUSEANT. His Highness is most grandiloquent.
MELNOTTE. Highness me no more! Beware! Remorse has made me a new being.
Away with you! There is danger in me. Away!
Sir E. Bulwer Lytton.
4.
Up, comrades, up!—in Rokeby's halls,
Ne'er be it said our courage falls!
Sir Walter Scott.
5.
To arms! To arms!! a thousand voices cried.
6.
The combat deepens! On ye brave!
Who rush to glory or the grave.