University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—THE CASTLE.
QUEEN, CLYFFORD.
CLYFFORD.
My royal patroness, in whose indulgence
My youth has found, what destiny denied me,
A mother, and a sister's soothing kindness!
By all the purer glory thou hast won
In deeds of love, and mercy to thy people,
Who bless thy gentle sway, and worship thee
As sent to them by Heaven; ordained to temper
Thy lord's austerity! assist a daughter,
Who merits not to lose the bliss of saving
An honored sire from ignominious death.

QUEEN.
Clyfford! thou knowst, how gladly I would soften
The anger of the King: but here I doubt
My influence can profit thee but little;
For never have I seen his indignation
So vehement against this land. I pray thee,
Be cautious not to wake his dread displeasure,
By seeming partial to his enemies!
Perhaps thy young, and artless mind is blinded
By perilous passion, to thyself unknown;
A daughter's charms may varnish to thy sight
Th'offences of her sire, do not mistake
Ill-omened love for honorable pity.

CLYFFORD.
Kindest of beings! my ingenuous spirit
Has not a trouble, it would hide from thee.
The charms of Gwendylen, I own, have sunk
So deeply in my bosom, death alone,
Or frenzy could efface them from my heart.
But shame on him, who could allow his mind
To rove at love's suggestion, while the cries
Of suffering humanity demand
His better thoughts! altho' the damsel's beauty
Enchants me, and is dearer to my sight
Than wealth to avarice, or fame to valor,
I would pass life in exile from her charms,
If that alone could end her filial fears,
And ratify the safety of her father.

QUEEN.
Fond youth! I know, and love the generous ardor
Of all thy strong attachments: yet I tremble
Sometimes in thinking to what keen excess
Thy sensibility is apt to feel.
Thy nature, Clyfford! has in it the seeds
Of loftiest virtue, or most daring guilt.
Heaven keep thy spirit in blest ignorance
Of warring passions, and discordant duties!
If I can serve the object of thy pity,
By intercession with the King, I will:
And if, from dire necessities of state,
This death-devoted sire must die, I yet
Will take this hapless orphan to my care.

CLYFFORD.
Blest be the voice, that to my lightened heart
Utters so dear a promise! but conducted
By innocence and gratitude, she comes
To pay her instant homage to your goodness.