University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Elfrida and Edgar.
ELFRIDA.
Gentle my Liege—speak on.

EDGAR.
Earth hath no language, love, befitting thee;
For its own children it hath pliant speech.
And mortals know to call a blossom fair,
A wavelet graceful, and a jewel rich:
But thou—oh! teach me, sweet, the angel-tongue
They talked in Heaven, ere thou didst leave its bowers
To bloom below. Come, fair one! answer me!
How named they thee in thy celestial home?

ELFRIDA.
If Athelwold should hear thee!

EDGAR.
Name not the felon knave to me, Elfrida;
My soul is flame whene'er I think of him.
Thou lov'st him not—oh! say thou dost not love him!

ELFRIDA.
When but a child, I saw thee in my dreams!

EDGAR.
Heaven bless thee, beautiful!
Thou wilt be mine?
Thou'lt to the palace with me?

ELFRIDA.
King! ere dishonour stain Earl Ordgar's child,
This hand should change her glowing life to nought.
Look on me, look! Is this a brow whereon
The trembler, Shame, should sit? Is this a form
Should droop and shrink before the glance of Scorn?
Know me, my Lord!

EDGAR.
Thou wouldst ennoble Shame! and Scorn would change
To suppliant Love before thee!
How may we feed our passion, if not thus?

ELFRIDA.
Are there no means?
Is Edgar's sceptre broken?
Must monarchs tamely smile while they are robbed
Of what they've set their hearts on? Be it so!
Within yon wood is many a secret cave,
Might more than match in gloom the darkest deed.
Dost lack a dagger?

EDGAR.
I lack the courage, lady,
To do a coward act!

ELFRIDA.
“A coward act!” How if some vagrant wasp
Thy hand should sting—Wouldst let it play there still?
What more to thee—the master of the realm—
Is this light lord? Go to! he's but a mote,
Which with a word thou canst annihilate!
And thou dost pause!
Speak not of love to me!

[Exit.
EDGAR.
An angel temper!
Some summer's day I too may seem a mote
Between her and the sun of her ambition;
And then—no dagger will my lady lack
To clear her pathway!