Something of horrid power within thee dwells.
Still, still that powerful eye doth suck me in
Like a dark eddy to its wheeling core.
Spare me! O spare me, Being of strange power,
And at thy feet my subject head I'll lay.
(Kneeling to Hartman, and bending her head submissively.)
El. Alas, the piteous sight! to see her thus;
The noble, generous, playful, stately Orra!
Think'st thou I'll suffer o'er her wretched state
The slightest shadow of a base controul?
(Raising Orra from the ground.)
No, rise thou stately flower with rude blasts rent;
As honour'd art thou with thy broken stem
And leafets strew'd, as in thy summer's pride.
I've seen thee worshipp'd like a regal dame
With ev'ry studied form of mark'd devotion.
Whilst I, in distant silence, scarcely proffer'd
Ev'n a plain soldier's courtesy; but now,
No liege-man to his crowned mistress sworn,
Bound and devoted is as I to thee;
And he who offers to thy alter'd state
The slightest seeming of diminish'd rev'rence,
Hart. Nay, do thou pardon me: I am to blame:
