Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/435

Rh

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.

Ay, they shall hack us into raven's meat, Ere on his gallant corpse there be impress'd 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!

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: