Wog. By holy saints, I will! reach me, I pray!
(pointing to his arms lying at a little distance from him.)
Alwy. (giving them.) There, be thou speedy.
Wog. (putting on his armour.) Curse on those loosen'd springs, they will not catch!
Oh, all the goodly armour I have lost!
I'll be reveng'd! curses! if I do leave them
Or spear, or shield, or robe, or household stuff,
Or steed within their stalls, or horn or hoof
Upon their grassy hills! (looking about.) What want I now?
Mine armour-man hath ta'en away my helm—
Faith, and my target too! hell blast the buzzard!
(Exit furiously.
Alwy. (laughing) Ethwald, we have fulfill'd thy bidding well,
With little cost of craft! But let us follow
And keep him to the bent.
(Exeunt.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
