_Gondi._ I do indeed!-- And tho' my sword has never been unsheathed, Since fate has link'd me to a lawless band, But to intimidate, not harm the passenger, I rather would have plunged its naked point In mine own bosom, than have raised it thus.-- I do beseech your pardon:--and, if aught, Wherein I may be capable of service, Can make atonement, you shall find me ready, Be it at what blind and perilous risk soever:-- For I have heard the fate of this day's battle; And should a guide, whose dark, and haggard fortune, Wraps him in humble seeming, be thought worthy, In this the time's extremity, to direct Your wand'ring steps, my zeal will prove itself Warm, and unshaken, madam. _Marg._ Thou makest amends:-- And the strong tide of evils, rushing in, With rapid force, upon us, well might urge me, Like sinking men who grasp at idle straws, To accept thy service. Yet, thou may'st be false, And lead my boy to his destruction.--Say,-- What sureties, fellow, have I of thy truth? _Gondi._ Think on the awe-inspiring air that marks A royal brow, and makes the trait'rous soul Shrink at its own suggestion.--And, when care, With envious weight, invades the diadem, To aim an injury then--'twere monstrous baseness! Oh! long, and ever, ever be there seen A heaven-gifted charm round Majesty, To draw confusion on the wretch, who, watching A transient cloud, that dims its lustre, dares Think on his sovereign with irreverence! But, more to bind me, madam, to your confidence, Know, I have been your soldier; and have fought In this proud cause--some, haply, may remember me-- When fortune's sunshine smiled upon it. _Marg._ Now-- For greatness ever has its summer friends, Who, at the fall and winter of its glory, Fly off like swallows--thou'lt betray me. _Gondi._ Never. Wrong me not in your thoughts, beseech you, madam; For I will serve you truly;--truly guard Your royal son.--He is but half a subject, Who, in the zeal, and duty, for his monarch, Feels not his breast glow for his prince's welfare. And, in the moment when the time's rough trial Calls, loudly, on my sworn allegiance, And summons it to proof, if I abandon either, May Heaven, when most I stand in need of mercy, Abandon me! _Prince._ Let us go with him, mother. _Gondi._ I know each turn and foot-path of the forest:-- Can lead you thro' such blind and secret windings, That will perplex pursuers, till they wander, As in a labyrinth.--West of this a little, There stand some straggling cottages, that form A silent village; and whose humble tops, Deep shadow'd by the dark o'erhanging wood, Escape the notice of the traveller. Thither, so please you, I'll conduct you, madam. I have a friend, Lowly but trusty, who shall tend upon you; While I will scout the country round, to gain Intelligence of your divided party.