mothers, sires, and say These wolves and swine that skulk and strike do well, As soon might know sweet heaven from ravenous hell. GUENDOLEN. GUENDOLEN. Ay: no such coward as crawls and licks the dust Till blood thence licked may slake his murderous lust And leave his tongue the suppler shall be bred, I think, in Britain ever—if the dead May witness for the living. Though my son Go forth among strange tribes to battle, none Here shall he meet within our circling seas So much more vile than vilest men as these. And though the folk be fierce that harbour there As once the Scythians driven before thee were, And though some Cornish water change its name As Humber then for furtherance of thy fame, And take some dead man’s on it—some dead king’s Slain of our son’s hand—and its watersprings Wax red and radiant from such fire of fight And swell as high with blood of hosts in flight— No fiercer foe nor worthier shall he meet Than then fell grovelling at his father’s feet. Nor, though the day run red with blood of men As that whose hours rang round thy praises then, Shall thy son’s hand be deeper dipped therein Than his that gat him—and that held it sin To spill strange blood of barbarous women—wives Or harlots—things of monstrous names and lives— Fit spoil for swords of harsher-hearted folk; Nor yet, though some that dared and ‘scaped the stroke Be fair as beasts are beauteous,—fit to make False hearts of fools bow down for love’s foul sake, And burn up faith to ashes—shall my son Forsake his father’s ways for such an one As whom thy soldiers slew or slew not—thou Hast no remembrance of them left thee now. Even therefore may we stand assured of this: What lip soever lure his lip to kiss, Past question—else were he nor mine nor thine— This boy would spurn a Scythian concubine. LOCRINE. LOCRINE. Such peril scarce may cross or charm our son, Though fairer women earth or heaven sees none Than those whose breath makes mild our wild south-west Where now he fares not forth on amorous quest. GUENDOLEN. GUENDOLEN. Wilt thou not bless him going, and bid him speed? LOCRINE.
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