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The Fatal Prophecy

A Dramatic Poem
  
  
  

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SCENE VI.
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134

SCENE VI.

Avilda, Berino, Lother.
Lother.
Valiant Chief!
Shall thy hand loiter, while thy bleeding country
Demands it's instant aid? The troops of Norway
With rapid fury press toward the palace.
Already have they broke the lines led on
By our brave Sovereign; who the shock sustaining
With too adventurous and determin'd valour,
Beyond his weight of years, by cruel chance
Is now their prisoner—

Avilda.
My aged father!

135

Ah wretched, lost Avilda! 'Twas to thee—
To thee this fatal accident was owing,
When all misplac'd thy foolish fears withheld
Berino from the battle; let me fly,
For guilt is in my presence—