Athelstan A Tragedy |
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| 4. | SCENE IV. |
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 | Athelstan |  |
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SCENE IV.
To them, Athelstan.Athelstan.
Sure, the Voice
Of Female Lamentation struck mine Ear.—
Thyra!—whom do I see?—What, drown'd in Tears?
Thyra.
Oh, lost, for ever lost!—This barbarous Dane!
Athelstan.
What of him?
Thyra.
Bent to do a Deed of Horror,
Ev'n now he hath dragg'd to dark Imprisonment
My guiltless Lord!—He threatens instant Violence!
Athelstan.
Curs'd be the Day on which he touch'd our Shores!
Come; let us from the Camp:—Ere this, my Mercians,
Warn'd of th' Oppressions of this bloody Dane,
And touch'd with Pity for their Country's Woes,
Burn to rejoin their King.—Come, gentle Thyra,—
Edwina, come.—My Presence shall protect you,
Safe thro' this hostile Camp.
Thyra.
Too generous, Duke!
Can I desert my Lord!
Athelstan.
Then stay, till Gothmund—
Thyra.
Oh, save me, Athelstan!
Haste, let us hence!—I have no Help but thee!
Alas, my virtuous Egbert, must I leave thee!
Athelstan.
Nay, fear not for him:—Ere yon Moon hath rode
Her Circuit round the Skies, I'll pour my Thunder
On these accursed Danes, and give him Freedom.
Siward, ere this, throughout the Ranks hath wak'd
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Come, let us quit the Camp.—
| Athelstan | |