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Vortigern

an Historical Tragedy, in Five Acts
  
  
  
  
  
  

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SCENE IX.
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SCENE IX.

Enter the Saxon and British Armies; they fight, and the Saxons are routed.
Enter Hengist and Officer.
Heng.
All, all is lost. Fly, fly, to the king's tent,
Bid him to London speedily repair;
Away, away, tarry not on your life.
A curse upon his sons for quitting us;
Shou'd they but follow up this victory,
My hopes, my every wish, for ever's blasted.

Enter Wortimerus.
Heng.
Vile traitor both to your liege king and father,
What blasted fiend, blacker than hell itself,
Cou'd prompt thee to this damned treachery?

Wort.
Can'st thou, vile Saxon, thou base braggart, ask it?
'Tis thou, and on thy soul I'll prove it so.

Heng.
Ask where's thy queen, and then I'll answer thee!


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Wort.
Dares thus thy tongue with notes unmannerly
My heart-strings tear asunder? Fiend, have at thee.

[They fight, Hengist falls.
Heng.
Thine hand be blasted for this fatal blow.
And must then all my hopes lie buried here?

Wort.
Yea, and thou need'st not much of Kent's domain,
A little mole-hill now will serve!

Heng.
Yet chance one lives, that may avenge this deed;
'Tis the brave Horsus, 'tis my noble friend.

Wort.
He fought his last,—
On him were found the secrets of thy plot:
Wou'dst thou not have enthrall'd my countrymen;
Was not thy daughter to have basely poison'd
Her king, and husband, and then wert not thou
To have seiz'd the crown? O! villain! villain! traitor!

Heng.
Yea, all, had I but liv'd a little longer.
Hell, swallow me not up! nor ope thy jaws
So wide. The fiends do tug and strain my heart-strings.
They burst, they crack—Oh! curs'd ambition! Oh!

[Dies.
Enter Catagrinus.
Cata.
All, all is ours, the ranks are broken—
They fly before us, come, let's follow them.
Good heav'ns, who's this?

[Looking to the body of Hengist.
Wort.
Hengist himself.

Cata.
What, was it thou that this vile monster fell'd?


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Wort.
Ay, marry; but he fought indeed like one
That begg'd a little time to save his soul.

Cata.
Our father hath towards London ta'en his flight,
But yet Rowena is our prisoner.

Wort.
That's well indeed! come let us on and join them.

[Exeunt.