University of Virginia Library

SCENE VIII.

—THE KING'S TENT.
KING EDWARD, QUEEN.
QUEEN.
Yet, my dear lord, by all your perils past,
By all your ardent hopes of future honor,
Yet, while the pressing minutes urge my voice
To most important prayer, while time allows
My fearless conqueror to make sweet mercy
The blest confirmer of his perfect glory,
Yet, yet recall from death this brave old man!
O save like Heaven, in the distressful moment,
When safety's vanished from the eyes of hope.

KING EDWARD.
Dearest of supplicants! it pains me ever
To thwart the wishes of thy gentle spirit;
But it is royalty's severest duty,
To keep the sword of punishment unbiassed
By the quick outcries of too tender pity.

QUEEN.
No! my mistaken lord! it is not pity
For those, who suffer by thy fatal wrath,
Tho' I acknowledge my heart bleeds for them;
'Tis love for thee: 'tis passion for thy glory,
That gives thy Eleanor the strength to plead
Against this stern decree: O gracious Edward!
I wish thy noble nature prized and loved
By every subject, as it is by me:
I know, in seeming cruel to this land,
It is thy aim, by sage austerity,
To fill the savage mind with useful terror:
But has not gentleness the blessed power
To rule the willing heart, while o'erstrained rigor
Gains but the fearful semblance of dominion
O'er the forced acts of alienated souls?

KING EDWARD.
Sweet advocate of mercy! were all hearts
Pure as thy own, thy pleading should prevail,
But for the government of baser beings,
Obedience must be founded upon fear.

QUEEN.
Fear leads to hate: and hate to strife, and frenzy:
Think of young Clyfford! O! if he, who felt
Thy fostering care, and idolized thy virtues,
If he was driven to momentary madness
By one harsh mandate of the King he loved,
What may thy people, who ne'er view like him,
Thy private scene, that blissful sanctuary
Of true domestic tenderness! O Edward!
Pride of my soul! I plead for thy renown:
Dearer to me than empire! while thou canst,
Save I conjure thee, save this aged bard!
To let him perish would obscure thy glory
With the base sin of black ingratitude;
For he with pure disinterested spirit,
Professing enmity to thy dominion,
Yet wished to shield thy life from hideous peril.
He with a father's gentleness to me
Spoke all his just surmises, and suggested
Means to restore to reason and to duty
The fascinated mind of frantic Clyfford.

KING EDWARD.
I can no more withstand, dear Eleanor,
Thy tender eloquence: thy prayer is granted:
One of the guard shall bring the rescued victim
To bless thee for that life, for which thy sweetness
Pleads irresistibly.

QUEEN.
Let me, let me,
My gracious lord, the happiest of thy servants!
O let me fly the herald of thy grace!
Mercy will lend me her auspicious wings;
And joy inspire me with his piercing voice,
To spread from rock to rock my welcome tidings
“THE PARDON OF LLANDORVIN.”