University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Garden within the walls of the Castle.
Enter ARGENTILE and EDITHA, with Baskets.
EDITHA.
Nay, sweetest mistress, share with me the pains,
If it be pains, amid these beds of fragrance
To cull such buds and blooms, as best deserve
To fill our wicker garners. Therefore came we;
'Twas of your own free choice: you said the task
Would help to chase your sorrows. See, my Princess,
How deep a blush, beyond its red compeers,
This rose has caught from the warm kiss of Phœbus!
That, tho' its neighbour, and as far remov'd
From shade and cold, yet glows not half so crimson.
Is it the fault o' th' sun? No; he, kind suitor,
Makes love to both alike. Perchance, my mistress,
That flower, like some coy maids, makes more ado
Ere it will warm to kindness.

Arg.
Peace, fond babbler!

Ed.
Nay, now I vow, had I so bright a suitor,
That blest me with such gallant visitation,
I'd not do thus, nor turn my pale cheek from him,
But bid him welcome with a buxom blush,
Like this free flower, and thank him for his favours.
Were it not best, what think you?

Arg.
Prithee, peace,
I know thou mean'st to chear me by this prattle?
But 'twill not be—come, let us count our thefts:
We've done, methinks, ev'n robbery enough
On these sweet beds.

Ed.
See here! besides these roses
Are lilies nam'd o'th' vale, which, to my sense,
Fling from their silver bells a daintier perfume,
Than ev'n the rose itself; spic'd fraxinel,
The golden martagon, the pale narcissus,
And flaunting piony; here's lady's slipper,
And lady's mantle too; curl'd columbines,
And harebells blue and white!

Arg.
No, not a month; [Not regarding her.

But come another day 'twill be a month,
Since my dear father lean'd him on this arm,
And took some slow-drawn paces down this alley;
But he was tir'd full soon, and sat him down
To rest on this same bench; he panted so,
That then I fear'd him dying.

Ed.
Nay, sweet Princess,
Did you not promise me?

Arg.
Indeed I did;
Yet then, in very deed, I little hop'd
I long should keep my word.

Ed.
Think of his years—

Arg.
I know he was full aged, yet some have counted
More years than he; and some have liv'd to see,
What most they wish'd, their daughters given in marriage,
And blest the sacred union.

Ed.
Some, alas!
Have left them sooner, in weak infancy;
Have left them fatherless, nay, in their cradles;
Hurried by death ev'n to their wife's fresh grave,
Who died in child-bed: such was my sad case;
And tho' of gentle, nay, of noble birth,
If nobleness can dwell where riches do not,
Friendless, forlorn, ah! what had I been now,
Had not the Queen your mother's fost'ring care
Pity'd my orphan state?

Arg.
I fear, my friend,
I am to blame, ev'n unto sin to blame,
Arraigning thus the will of Providence.
Yet he, who gave me tears, will let me shed them,
I trust, without a frown. His gift were vain,
Did I not weep.

Ed.
Your royal uncle's care—

Arg.
Is he like Adelbright? will he support
Sad Argentile with half his tenderness?
Thou canst not think it. Thou thyself hast felt
His sterner temper; for when Oswald's son,
The gallant Edwin sued for thee in marriage,
Who but my uncle mar'd your mutual bliss,
And made his father act a tyrant's part?
Alas, thou weep'st! I was to blame in op'ning
A wound, that time had clos'd.

Ed.
And if I weep,
'Tis only that his hapless love for me
Caus'd the brave youth to fly his native realm,
A voluntary exile. To his suit
Thou know'st, my Princess, I demean'd myself
Ever with virgin coyness, as I ought.

Arg.
Thou didst, and therein claim'st thy sexes praise.

Ed.
Gallant as Edwin was, my tongue was able
To interdict his passion; therefore, sure,
I lov'd him not, spite of the rising sighs
That ever meet his mention. Had I lov'd him,
I must have yielded; he was all so worthy
To raise a mutual flame—where then my praise?
But, hush, his father comes! his earnest look
Tells me he means to claim a private audience.
He ill would brook my presence.

Arg.
Thou, poor Editha,
Wilt ev'n as ill brook his! retire thee, then;
Yet stray not out of call.

[Exit Editha.
Enter OSWALD.
Osw.
Your pardon, Princess,
That, quitting forms, I thus abruptly venture—

Arg.
Ah, my good Lord, away with idle forms!
You were my Father's friend, and that secures
A constant welcome to his orphan child.
But why so much disturb'd?

Osw.
Is there not cause?
Has not King Edel done—

Arg.
What, my good Lord?
Till this same hour I never left my chamber.
What has my uncle done?

Osw.
Flouted the Dane,
And sent his Envoy back with blank refusal.

Arg.
'Tis as I thought, not fear'd: yet herein read
A sum of num'rous future wrongs prepar'd
To fall full soon upon my innocent head.

Osw.
Not one, not one, no not the slightest wrong,
While Oswald wields a sword to check its fall.
Have comfort, Princess; you have round your person
A set of Peers, whose perfect loyalty
Will at my call pour out their best heart's blood
In your defence.

Arg.
O Heav'n forefend, my Lord,
That Argentile should be the cause of bloodshed!
Sooner than so, I would resign my throne,
And take a subject's station. Trust me, Earl,
I ne'er was fond of this same pageant state,
And smilingly could quit it.

Osw.
Say not so.
Born to a crown, that crown must grace your head:
And we have powers to give it legal firmness.

Arg.
No, rather let him drive me from his realm
A hapless exile. I am not the first
His arts have forc'd away.

Osw.
I read your meaning.
It was indeed his arts, curst Edel's arts,
That struck the flint on my too fervent nature,
And bade it fire. Stop, ye repentant sighs,
You will not call my darling Edwin back!
Alas! you cannot: to th' extremest verge
Of this wide isle my fruitless search has reach'd:
No, I must ne'er again behold my boy;
He's lost, I fear, for ever.

Arg.
Hope the best;
And promise me, if e'er the youth returns,
He'll have thy full forgiveness.

Osw.
So from Heav'n
May I have precious hope of after pardon,
As now my son has mine!

Arg.
Enough, enough.
Thou shew'st thyself again a tender father;
Therefore I take thee for my loyal friend,
Nay rather for my father. Yes, good Earl,
Thou know'st I want one; thou too want'st a child:
Act then a father's part, and guard my weakness
'Gainst my fear'd uncle's arts. Yet, if he goes
No further than to break my present marriage,
He has my ready pardon: She, who loses
A boon she never yet had learn'd to prize,
Is scarce a loser. Does he wish me still
To live in virgin state? My wishes there
Bear him free company; yet much I fear
Some greater cruelty.

Osw.
To thwart these nuptials
Is more than cruelty; 'tis sacrilege
To Adelbright's just memory—

Arg.
Of this,
My Lord, your prudence must more fitly judge
Than a young maiden's. Therefore, Sir, to you,
And to such peers as were my father's friends,
I trust my honest cause, and will in all
Accord to your sage councils. Honour'd Earl,
Adieu. Come forward, faithful Editha,
And lead me to my chamber.

[Exeunt Argentile and Editha.
Osw.
Remorseless tyrant!
To wrong this pattern of all virgin virtues;
While I have life I will oppose thy malice!

[Exit Oswald.