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Thou art not here, for if thou wert, I know
Doctor, thou mad'st report The fever had abated.
It had, my Lord,
But rages now afresh.
How came he hither ?
He asked us if the Queen were buried yet,
Thy hand is very cold. Come, come, look up.
So soon to be forgotten! Oh, so soon !
Draw him from the corpse : This loss of blood, that drains the fever off, Anon will bring him to himself.
I hear a shout as of a multitude
Bridferth, mount the tower,
And look abroad.
That was a voice I knewIt came from darkness and the pit—but hark !
An Angel's song ·
'Tis Dunstan that I see! Rebellious Monk! I lay my body down Here at thy feet to die, but not my soul, Which goes to God. The cry of innocent blood Is up against thee, and the Avenger's cry Shall answer it. Support me, Sirs, I pray ; Be patient with me ... there was something still ... I know not what ... under your pardon . . . yes .. Touching my burial ... did I not see but now . I pray you, Sirs, ... there ... there ...
[Dies. BRIDFERTH (from the tower). My Lord, my Lord, Harcather flies; the Danes Are pouring thro' the gate. Harcather falls.
Give me the crucifix. Bring out the relics.
[Exeunt, the trumpets of Olaf and SWEYNE sounding in the
distance. The Curtain falls.
PREFACE, PAGE xii. “ The prayer of the Anglo-Saxon Liturgy, for deliver
ance à furore Northmannorum."
The Anglo-Saxon ritual of the Cathedral Church of Durham, printed by the Surtees Society, contains some curious specimens of the religious services of the period. I am tempted to quote the invocation by which the Devil was prevented from riding upon horses, goats, and swine.
Habraham, Habraham! equos, capras, et porcusque benedic latrinibus, angelus qui positus est super animalia nostra custodiat ea, ut non poterit Diabolus inequitare illa. Habraham teneat vos per ac divinitas Dei, Deus ad dexteram, angelus ad sinistram, propheta vos prosequentur, martyres antecedant vos, patronesque persequentur, vos custodiat Dominus oves et boves, vitulos, equos et apes, custodi