And, with a nod that spread pale fear around,
And seem’d to animate his bloody plume,
Triumphantly, he bade them all defiance;
Then, slowly turning, with a horrid frown,
Soldiers! he cried, soldiers! break down the draw-bridge.
Like hail, in flight, we pour’d on them our arrows,
Until their blood had stain’d the moat around us—
But look, my lord, here comes the King.
Enter Vortigern.
Vor. Why stand ye here, like fools, catching the air?