University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A Dead March. After which, Enter Gomel, Albert and Morvid.
Gomel.
It ceases now the solemn Harmony
Of slow-pac'd Grief attending Caduan's Herse,
Convey'd in funeral Pomp from Neustria's Shore.

Alb.
Thus then at length returns our exil'd King
To take Possession of the British Earth.
All was his Due; but oh! a scanty Portion,
No more than what his meanest Vassals claim,
The measure of his Clay, must now suffice him.

Mor.
Observe the Malice too of Caduan's Fate,
To seize him just as his advent'rous Son,
Our Royal Edwin, had surpriz'd and slain,
In his own Palace here, usurping Elfrid.

Gom.
Say rather, Heaven's Indulgence interpos'd
Between his helpless Age and Ills to come:
'Tis true, the Tyrant's gone, and Leolin
(His Captive Offspring) holds his forfeit Life
By Edwin's Grace; but Tudor, who e'erwhile
Led Elfrid's conqu'ring Troops against the Picts,
Returns in Triumph to redeem his Son.

Alb.
And shake our Monarch's Throne with rebel Arms.
I know the Rumour.

Gom.
'Twas at first no more;
Darkly begun, and doubtfully receiv'd.
But Scouts and Passengers confirm it now.
The necessary Measures are concerted
For Succour and Defence, our Forces muster'd,
The Gates secur'd, and Malecontents disarm'd.
For frighted Verulam expects a Siege,
Soon as the next unwelcome Morn renews
The now declining Day.

Alb.
Why, then 'tis War;
And War in a distemper'd State like ours
Lets out ill Blood; 'tis Exercise, 'tis Health.

Mor.
You speak but half it's Praise; why War, my Lord,
Is of eternal Use to Human Kind;
For ever and anon when you have pass'd
A few dull Years in Peace and Propagation,
The World is overstock'd with Fools, and wants
A Pestilence at least, if not a Hero.

Alb.
And yet Extremes (might Albert's Wish prevail)
Should be avoided: from my Soul I pity
Your Pris'ner Leolin; why nam'd I Pity?
His Fall from Empire well may challenge that;
But here 'tis more: O'erpower'd in the late Action
By Numbers, he resign'd his Sword to me;
And from that Moment, (whence or how, I know not)
A secret Simpathy has join'd our Hearts.

Gom.
Yet Duty bids you arm in Edwin's Cause,
Your rightful Monarch.

Alb.
And Matilda's Brother.

Mor.
Ay, your Matilda's, if her Father's Choice,
Illustrious Birth, and ever faithful Love,
My Lord, your Uncle's Merits and your own,
Can make her yours. She is but now arriv'd,
The mournful Harbinger of Caduan's Dust:
Ye cannot yet have met.

Alb.
My Morvid, no;
And ere her Beauties glad my longing Eyes,
My captive Friend, my Leolin, expects me:
I go to find him now.
[Exit Albert.

Gom.
To find the Man
Whom, thoughtless as he is, he most should shun:
The Curse of barren Honesty attend
His Simpathy of Hearts; it suits but ill
The secret Purpose of my working Brain:
Anon I'll tell you more: withdraw a while;
For see, our Sovereign, and Matilda with him.

[Exit Morvid.
Enter Edwin and Matilda.
Edw.
You Gomel oft have heard the strict Command
Our Father gave me, ne'er to entertain
A Thought of lost Dominion, while himself
Or Elfrid liv'd.

Gom.
Most true, my honour'd Lord;
I well remember his repeated Maxim;
Who strikes at Sovereign Power, had need strike home;
For Storms that fail to blow the Cedar down,
May tear the Branches, but they fix the Root.

Edw.
And therefore when the Plan of Elfrid's Fall
Was modell'd, I by stealth obey'd the Summons
Of Friends, nay more, that best of Friends, Occasion,
My Father's Leave unask'd.

Gom.
But sure the Hazard
That chill'd his aged Blood, and check'd your daring,
Must in proportion have enhanc'd the Value
Of this Atchievement, had he liv'd to know it.

Mat.
Alas he knew it, for the News arriv'd
Not many Minutes ere he breath'd his last.

Edw.
Those Minutes were worth Years: When I expire,
Such Tidings wait the Moment of Despair,
And chear my parting Soul.

Mat.
My dearest Brother!
What have you said? avert this Omen, Heaven.
The News you mention, far from giving Joy,
But hasten'd and encreas'd his dying Pangs:
He struck his Breast, and groan'd, “My Son is lost:
I ask'd him, How? and still, “My Son is lost,
Was eccho'd back.

Edw.
Amazement! lost? but why?
Misfortune has its Doubts, and Age its Fears,
(Or Foresight, which you will) and they explain
His fix'd Aversion to the bold Attempt:
But when the Powers that smile on injur'd Right,
Had crown'd it with Success, then! then these Outcries!
What can they mean? For they seem big with Meaning:
But how to penetrate—to fathom it—
'Tis midnight Darkness all: My Father knew,
And had it pleas'd his Caution to unfold it—
He would not—no, he was too wise for That.

Gom.
And blind Obedience still impos'd on You.

Edw.
But there his Wisdom err'd; was Reason his?
'Twas mine no less; and Nature has bestow'd it
For Use, not Slavery to a Parent's Will:
I trod the Path it manifestly trac'd,
And did my Duty to a groaning Nation,
As Caduan should have done; but stay, should Caduan
Have ruin'd Me? for, if I heard you right,
His Son, he said, was lost.

Mat.
He did.

Edw.
O whence
Those cruel Sounds, the language of Despair?
Was it a Shock so fatal, if I serv'd him
Against his Will, that it should hasten Death?
And have I kill'd my Father? dreadful Thought!
I shake, I sicken at the very mention:
No wonder, Leolin resents so deeply,
And will not be appeas'd for Elfrid's Blood.

Mat.
Spilt by your Hand.

Edw.
By my unwilling Hand.
We met in Fight, and in his hoary Locks
An Image of my Father's Age appear'd:
I startled, paus'd; and pointing with my Sword
To Heaps on Heaps that died in his Defence,
Begg'd him to save the few remaining Lives
Of his now vanquish'd Friends, but most his own:
He answer'd in a Peal of mad Reproach,
With Traytor, Monster, Coward and Ingrate
Rung in my Ears; and as his feeble Rage
Just reach'd my Buckler with a dying Blow,
Full on my Weapon's Point he wildly ran
His swelling Heart, and let out Life and Anguish.

Mat.
Such is the sudden Fall of impious Power:
A fatal Lesson, could Ambition learn!

Edw.
It will not from my Mind this strange Behaviour
Of dying Caduan: stay, I have a Thought
Just dawning on my gloomy Doubts; the Medal
He gave me, must disclose the Mistery.

Mat.
It bears (as I have heard) a dark Device,
Which Caduan never would unriddle.

Edw.
Never
So long as Elfrid liv'd; but still he own'd,
The same Necessity that kept it secret
'Till that Usurper's Death, would then require
To have it fully known.

Mat.
But Caduan too,
He who should make it known, is now no more.

Edw.
In view of that Event, he chose a Friend,
His sure Interpreter.

Mat.
What Friend, my Brother?

Edw.
He would not name him.

Mat.
But the time is come
For Explanation; has my Lord inquir'd?

Edw.
I have, to my Surprise, in vain.

Mat.
Of whom?

Edw.
Of Gomel, Runo, Cador, Arnold, all
Whom Caduan honour'd with the least degree
Of Confidence or Love.

Mat.
Could you have added
Revolting Tudor to that loyal List,
I shou'd have fancied Him the Man distinguish'd
By that important Trust; for when th'Account
Of your Success with unexampled Horror
Distracted Caduan in the Hour of Death;
Ev'n in the Height of that Confusion, Tudor
Employ'd his lab'ring Thought; he nam'd him thrice,
And thrice essay'd to utter something more;
But Sense was shatter'd by approaching Fate,
Or vainly struggled on his fault'ring Tongue
In undistinguish'd Sounds.

Gom.
But naming Him
Affords some Light, for sure he would have said,
That Rebel was in Arms, and might revenge
The Tyrant's Death by yours

Mat.
If that was all—

Edw.
Why, what could it be more?

Mat.
Nay, nothing more;
At least that we can guess; whate'er it was,
'Tis Nothing now to Him, for he is Nothing.

Edw.
No, That could ne'er be All: we know too well
That Tudor once was Caduan's Friend.

Gom.
A false one.

Edw.
He was, my Gomel; your true Friends are Jewels
That sparkle in the Dark; but faithless He,
The King's not Caduan's Friend, the Slave to Chance,
Turn'd as she turn'd, and made his Peace with Elfrid.

Mat.
His Peace and Fortune too.

Gom.
He did, by Treason
To injur'd Caduan, his forgotten Master.

Mat.
What, by deliberate, malicious Treason?

Edw.
Attend and judge: you are not now to learn
That at the very time when Elfrid set
The Standard of Invasion up, his Wife
Honoria, banish'd from her Lord, and then
A Guest at Caduan's Court, became a Mother
Some Hours before the Queen, and died in Child-bed.

Mat.
Of Leolin.

Gom.
Your Adversary's Birth,
Though under Influence of far different Stars,
In Time and Place accompanied your own.

Mat.
As Elfrid's Son was then in Caduan's Power,
Why quitted he that Pledge of kinder Terms
From his victorious Rival?

Gom.
By Advice
Of Him he trusted most, ungrateful Tudor.

Edw.
For there the Traytor play'd his wily Game,
Abus'd his Credit with the King my Father,
Conceal'd th'impending Danger, and delay'd
His needful Flight, 'till unawares beset
By hostile Troops, he found himself constrain'd
To purchase his Escape of conqu'ring Elfrid,
By rend'ring safe into his Hands, the Hopes
Of lost Succession in his Infant Heir.

Mat.
This Caduan told you.

Edw.
No, he still was blind
To Tudor's Fraud, and to the last excus'd
His foul Revolt; but trusty Gomel here
In special Confidence reveal'd it to me.

Mat.
Well, if my Father misinform'd you not
(As sure he never would) the Hour is nigh
To satisfie your Doubts.

Edw.
The Hour I wish,
And fear at once; for when I urg'd the King
To clear the Medal's mystic Sense, he fetch'd
A Sigh, and added; “the Discovery
“You press so warmly, will be made in time;
“It must, to vindicate my harsh Restraint
“(For such it seems) in bar of your Designs
“On Elfrid's guilty Throne; but oh! remember,
“The Secret that unknown, excites your Wonder,
“When known, will give you Pain; and task the Virtue
“To which I train'd you from your Infant Years,
“To bear it as you ought.

Mat.
Ah me! I tremble
In apprehension of some dire Event.

Gom.
My gracious Princess, 'tis for Guilt to fear:
But what has Edwin done? let Albion judge,
Freed by his Arm.

Edw.
Alas we deal in Air
Our random blows; Appearances indeed
Pronounce me Innocent; but then my Heart,
(I know not why) my boding Heart condemns me.
Matilda, You have rais'd this stubborn Phantom;
What Business has it here? it answers Nothing;
But stares me in the Face, and will not stir:
This is an Enemy I cannot kill
Like Elfrid. So! I thank thee, Memory;
For there's an Image too, that stings me home.
Well, they are now no more, the Royal Rivals;
And Elfrid's Fun'ral Dues, by my appointment,
Have waited to be paid with those of Caduan.
The British Island was too narrow once
To hold them both; but ere To-morrow's Sun
Forsakes the Skies, one reconciling Tomb
Shall hide their cold Remains.

Mat.
I dedicate
The mournful Space between, to Grief and Friendship,
My Father and my Adeliza.

Edw.
Said you?
O let me add, my Adeliza too.
By Heav'n the Terrors, that till now have froze me,
Relent and fly before so dear a Name;
And Comfort smiles upon the healing Sound.

Gom.
You saw her lately, and but saw, recall'd
From War and Triumph to our banish'd Court,
As She was leaving it; She charm'd you then.

Mat.
But Time and Absence—

Edw.
Have enlarg'd the Wound.
You drew the Picture of her matchless Mind;
Her brave Adherence to our ruin'd Cause,
Triumphant o'er the mercenary Views
That would have brib'd her to espouse the Part
Her Father Tudor took; you painted well;
But 'twas superfluous then, for I had gaz'd,
And through the chrystal Case descried the Gem.

Mat.
Has Love oblig'd you with a second View?

Edw.
Alas Matilda, no; the very Day
When I arriv'd at Elfrid's Court, she left it
On some unknown Disgust.

Mat.
But my Arrival
Has brought her back to welcom Me; nor less
(If I mistake not) to disclaim Rebellion,
Though headed by the Man who gave her Life.
I have your Leave to introduce her here.

Edw.
Yes, yes, my Sister, quick; fly Gomel, bring her
To Edwin's harrass'd Soul, like cooling Streams
[Exit Gomel.
To the parch'd Lips of Thirst: for, Oh Matilda,
My Cares already far out-weigh my Crown;
But Adeliza yet might give me Ease.
O set before my Eyes that heav'nly Form
To smooth the Billows here, and hush the Storm;
Then Halcyon Love, in angry Fate's despight,
Shall spread his downy Wings, and hatch Delight.

Re-enter Gomel with Adeliza; then Exit.
Ade.
Thus at your Feet—

Edw.
'Tis there I wish my Foes;
And only there, that I may raise 'em thence.

Ade.
You see the Daughter of your greatest Foe.

Edw.
Recal that Sentence; Adeliza's Father
Is Edwin's Friend: For those he leads against me,
I have a Cause and Sword too lately tried
To let me fear an after-game of Treason.

Ade.
But could you fancy that a Father's Name
Had warp'd my Honour to a Moment's Pause
Between the Ties of Kindred and Allegiance,
The Blood that warms my Heart with loyal Rage,
Would cover me with Blushes; and to clear
My Duty from the slavish Imputation,
Of counterfeit or cold in Tudor's Daughter,
Would be to lay upon my gracious Lord
A Blot he scorns, the meanness of Distrust.

Edw.
Nay, and the Folly too; for sure, the Fear
To be deceiv'd, deceives a Monarch most:
Nor can I listen to its Whispers now,
Without Injustice to the many Virtues,
That shining out in Adeliza's Form,
So well repay her Lips, her Cheeks, her Eyes,
The Charms they borrow thence.

Ade.
O Sir forbear.

Mat.
Accomplish'd thus, and Tudor's only Child,
Well may she prove the Darling of his Age;
And here with You remains a Pledge to charm
The Sword of Treason from his Hand.

Edw.
You mean,
The Sword of Justice and Defence from mine.

Ade.
My Lord, I apprehend you not.

Edw.
You will not:
But tell me, rather than appear so cold,
Tell me, you wanted Faith; for then at least
You give my Tongue Occasion to renew
The dear Confession: and a Heart like mine,
Big with Desire, would surely break at last,
Without a vent in Sighs and Repetition
Of all that Love, the fondest Love can say.

Ade.
Sir, this Discourse agrees not with the Times:
Think of securing an indanger'd Throne.

Edw.
O make it worth securing, and resolve
To share it with me.

Ade.
'Tis impossible.

Edw.
Say that no more, or in a milder Tone;
And sink the grating Sense in gentle Sounds:
I could rejoice to hear Impossible
Softly pronounc'd, and swear it meant, I yield.
What, not a Word? Matilda! Adeliza!

Mat.
Nay Adeliza, speak.

Ade.
My Silence speaks.
I cannot speak to please my Royal Lord;
And would not, to offend.

Edw.
Alas Matilda,
Is this the promis'd Joy? 'tis own'd, my Love
Has wanted hitherto the Proof of Sufferings,
And constant Zeal in Adeliza's Service:
I have, I have presum'd, O much too far
On the Prerogative of Royalty,
To think the Proffer of that Toy a Crown
Sufficient here to manifest my Passion.
But on this Hand—

Ade.
Which never can be yours.

Edw.
So stern! and so resolv'd! Why, this Denial
Is more, far more than Form or Caution, owing
To Virgin Modesty, or Faith untried:
This is obdurate Hate, and fix'd Disdain.
Now by the Blood that stain'd my conqu'ring Sword
In Elfrid's wretched Fall, I swear his Death
Is well reveng'd; by Adeliza too;
By her to whom he fell a Sacrifice.

Ade.
A Sacrifice to me?

Edw.
To you alone.
The public Call to right my self and Country
I had before; but then I ne'er had seen
Those all-subduing Eyes; and when I saw,
My Virtue fir'd by Love of you, dispens'd
Like heated Gums, its salutary Odours,
And at one push redeem'd a Diadem,
To lay it at the Feet that now have spurn'd it.

Ade.
Let not my Sovereign blemish the Renown
Of saving Britain by a Cause so worthless.

Edw.
Be just to your Desert; and think, oh think
No Cause so worthy as my Love to You;
And then be just to Edwin, and reward it.

Ade.
I pity that which I so ill deserve,
Your Love; but cannot, Sir, command my own.

Edw.
You cannot now command it; but allow me
The small poor Hope that Time may prove my Friend.

Ade.
By curing your Disease.

Edw.
O never, never:
I wish not to be cur'd; the last Distress
Of Love so tender and so true as mine,
Is Pride and Pleasure too.

Ade.
My Lord, I grieve
To see you thus, and beg I may retire.

Edw.
Matilda, call her back; she hates not You:
You are no Edwin.

Mat.
Adeliza, stay
At my Entreaty, since you slight the King's.

Edw.
I thank you thus; nay now the turn is mine
To kneel.

Ade.
I cannot bear this Posture, Sir;
And must—

Edw.
O hold! you know the Way to raise me;
Rather than drive you hence, I yield to rise:
You shall prescribe my Posture, Distance, Words;
All but my Looks; for I must gaze for ever.

Mat.
How is it with you, Sir? you started.

Edw.
Why,
Instead of yonder Angel Face that fix'd
My Eyes so long, just now methought, I saw
The pale and bloody Form of murder'd Elfrid.

Mat.
Call it not Murder, Sir.

Edw.
Had I a right
To kill him?

Mat.
Yes.

Edw.
Why, who am I?

Mat.
The King.

Edw.
But are you sure I am? then who is she?

Mat.
'Tis Adeliza, Sir.

Edw.
My Sister's Friend?

Mat.
The same.

Edw.
Her Friend? and so unkind to me?
Or do I dream? wake, wake me, if I do:
Alas I wake too sure; my Dream is over;
For Edwin's Dream was Hope.

Ade.
It was, my Lord;
But—

Edw.
What? but never let it be again:
That you would say: inexorable Maid
To banish Hope! allow it but a Dream;
Must weary Nature be deny'd to sleep,
Or ev'n to slumber, lest our Dreams deceive us?
Alas for helpless Man, when left to sink
Beneath the Tyrant Weight of waking long
To Truth and Reason! how I envy them
Who purchase Happiness, at least Repose,
In being cheated by the Vision, Hope!
The Dreamer, disappointed of his Hope,
Indeed is wretched; but most wretched He,
Who still must love, and still despair like Me.

[Exeunt.