beheld the scene with grief and astonishment; his senses were in a
manner overwhelmed with so many successive prodigies. But he did not
long remain inactive; grief and astonishment soon gave way to revenge.
He took his javelin, still red with the blood of the mountain wolf, and
whirled it from his hand. Edwin was skilled to toss the dart; from his
hand it flew unerring to its aim. Forceful it sung along the air; but
the goblin advanced with hasty steps among the clouds. It touched it
with its hand, and it fell harmless and pointless to the ground. During
this action the car of Roderic disappeared. The goblin immediately
vanished; and Edwin was left in solitude.

The storm however had not yet ceased. The rain descended with all its
former fury. The thunder roared with a strong and deafening sound. 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