 | The Heroine of Cambria |  |
189
SCENE III.
KING EDWARD, CLYFFORD, MORTIMER, GWENDYLEN.MORTIMER.
Behold, my liege—but from your gallant kinsman
You are apprized of all, I would relate,
Touching this fair delinquent, whom my duty
Brings to attend the order of your highness.
KING EDWARD.
My faithful Mortimer! we ever find thee
Intelligent and active in our service.
Fair stranger! thy offence has nature's plea:
We shall not therefore, as our state might warrant,
Weigh it, as treason to our sovereignty.
Think us thy friend! and know we mean to place thee
In the protection of our gentle queen,
Whose fair retinue, and well ordered court,
Form an asylum for thy youth and beauty.
There wilt thou learn, what thy distracted country
Ought to have learnt, a grateful just obedience;
Nor rashly mingling in rebellious broils
Partake thy father's crimes.
GWENDYLEN.
My father's crimes!
O royal Edward, do not let the pride
Of recent conquest make thee arrogate
What God denies himself; the power to alter
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My father's life may be, as once it seemed,
Thy victim: but his virtue, and his fame
Are far beyond the reach of thy attaint;
And, like his firm unspotted soul, immortal.
KING EDWARD.
So young! and so presumptuous! thy apt childhood
Has caught the ravings of licentious freedom:
But softer studies, and submissive manners
More suit thy sex and age.
GWENDYLEN.
Your pardon, sir!
My brief, and artless life has only been
One plain continued lesson in the school,
The heart-improving school of true submission,
Where quick obedience is the happy offspring
Of love, and veneration.
KING EDWARD.
Has thy father,
Plunged in the storm of dark hostility,
That drowns domestic joy, has he found leisure
To tutor thy fond infancy; and grow
By the alluring powers of mild instruction
The idol of his child?
GWENDYLEN.
If I, my lord,
As partial friends have said, if I appear
Of spirit riper, than my youth might promise,
I owe it to his rare paternal bounty;
Who from my cradle, with incessant fondness
Watched o'er the dawn of reason in my soul,
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The lustre of his own.—O mighty Edward!
Couldst thou but feel a moment, what my heart
Has felt for years—the pure benignant splendor
Of that rich mind, where fancy's fervid powers
Blaze, but as solar fire, to guide the world,
Thou wouldst not wonder, that I thus exult
To draw my being from so bright a source,
And vindicate the glory of my father.
KING EDWARD.
My young, and fair enthusiast, I esteem
Thy filial pride, good children make good subjects.
Thy spirit pleases, and perchance may lead me
To be thy father's friend: but we must teach him
To court our mercy, not insult our power.
Wait till the queen, youth's patroness! appears
To take thee to her charge. Come, Mortimer,
Receive our private orders!
(Exit with Mortimer.
| The Heroine of Cambria | |