The
lightnings flamed from pole to pole. But the lightnings flamed, and the
thunder roared unregarded. The storm beat in vain upon the unsheltered
head of Edwin. "Where," cried he, with the voice of anguish and despair,
"is my Imogen, my mistress, my wife, the charmer of my soul, the solace
of my heart?" Saying this, he sprung away like the roe upon the
mountains. His pace was swifter than that of the zephyr when it sweeps
along over the unbending corn. He soon reached the avenue by which the
chariot had disappeared from his sight. He leaped from rock to rock; he
ascended to the summit of the cliff. His eye glanced the swift-flying
car of Roderic; he knew him by his gilded carriage, and his spangled
vest. But he saw him only for a moment. His aching eye pursued the
triumphant flight in vain. "Stay, stay, base ravisher, inglorious
coward!" he exclaimed. "If thou art a man, return and meet me. I will
encounter thee hand to hand. I will not fear the strength of thy
shoulders, and the haughtiness of thy crest. If in such a cause, with
the pride of virtue on my side, with all the Gods to combat for me, I am
yet vanquished, then be Imogen thine: then let her be submitted to thy
despotic power, to thy brutal outrage, and I will not murmur.
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