University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The King's Closet.
CENULPH
(alone).
The midnight hour has toll'd! I fain would rest.
Sleep flies these aching eyes! Why is it so?
[He ruminates in a disturbed manner.
It is not much that one be sacrificed
To stay the sword of war. Yet, ere I press
The downy couch, a painful something here,
I would compose by my accustom'd prayer.
I never yet have laid me down to rest,
Unoffer'd to high Heaven the past day's deeds.
Why do I seem less ready now to bend
The humble knee? If, for my people's weal,
This woman's death!—'tis well—
[He kneels.
Yes, I will kneel.
I am alone with thee, my Maker! Thee!
In whose sight all are equal—all thy creatures.

[As he kneels down, Ina enters softly behind with her child, approaches unperceived as he speaks, and kneels beside him.
INA.
No; I am with thee, in thy Maker's presence!
Like thee, his creature! and, if true thou say'st,
Thy equal in his sight.

CENULPH
(with terror).
Protect me, Heaven!
Ha! is it past?—Avaunt! terrific vision!
Com'st thou to charge me with thy blood?

INA.
No, king!
I come to bow me at thy honour'd foot,
And plead for thee, that thou wilt spare thyself.
Oh! spare thy age, nor rob it of its staff,
The blameless conscience! Of its graceful honours,
Posterity! and children's children's blessings!

CENULPH.
Thou! thou dost bar me from the joys thou nam'st.
They will be mine when thou art in the grave.
How didst thou gain admittance at this hour?
Who aided thee in this?—his life shall pay—

INA.
'Twas He, to whom thou didst pour forth the prayer.
He gave to innocence unwonted courage,
And lent my suit the winning grace it needed.
He, whose voice heaves the sea, and stills the storm—
Bade every cruel passion to subside;
And, as I pass'd, fashion'd each heart to pity.
The gentle hand, unconscious of its act,
Put back the pond'rous bolt!—With noiseless sweep
The portal open'd, to admit a mother
Bearing her orphan'd little one, to place him
Beneath a grandsire's care.
[Presenting the child.
Protect this child!
The heir of Wessex' throne!

CENULPH.
I will not look on't.
Away, and take it hence!—It dies with thee.

INA.
Oh! say not so! Murder the rosy babe
That smiles on thee? thy age's stay and hope!
Thou, who not yet in wantonness of power
Hast rioted in blood! not yet hast mock'd
At nature's ties!—and at thy first essay
To crimson thy hard hand with this! thy own!
Nay, tremble, tyrant! tremble in thy turn
Before a frantic mother!—Thou a father!
Oh, yes! thou art, and father of a son,
Whose infancy was dear as is this babe's.

CENULPH.
Yes, dear his infancy! his boyhood dearer!
His youth my pride! my joy! till thy loose arts
Wound sensuality's soft silken toils
Around his soul.—Besotted in thy love,
What crimes may he not perpetrate to soothe
Thy woman's pride!—His father's throne—his life—
Nay, hang not on me—thou'rt my bane, my curse.
But thou art doom'd—of treasonous practices
Convicted publicly.—Prepare for death!

INA.
I am prepared to meet death as becomes me;
Although 'tis hard to die, so young, so loved!
Thy Egbert, too, will find it hard to part.

CENULPH.
Shall the young eagle mate him with the raven,
Nor, spurning the delusion, spring aloft,
Bathing his plumes in the meridian ray
To shake off foul pollution?—Think it not.

INA.
Nor think thou he can lose the wife he loves,
Nor feel a pang.

CENULPH.
'T will be forgotten soon.

INA.
And was the pang so soon forgot by thee,
To lose thy virtuous queen, my gracious mistress?
Though 'twas by nature's hand, matured for heaven
By a long life of happiness and love!
Not torn from thee, as must be Egbert's wife,
In spring of bliss, but gently summon'd hence.

CENULPH.
No more of this. Fair Edelfleda's charms,
With whom he weds—

INA.
Oh! never, never, king!
He will not long survive.—Thus Edelfleda
Will be appeased, and peace once more restored.
Then will this child—Oh, look on him, King Cenulph!
Then will this child remind thee of thy son.
Fear not to look:—he but resembles Egbert.—
He bears no feature of his wretched mother.
His looks will waken none but grateful thoughts
Of all that once was thine in Egbert's worth,
Nor e'er remind thee of the deed of blood
That stain'd thy long reign's close.

CENULPH.
I charge thee, hence!
Was't I who will'd thy death?

INA.
It was myself!
And I am firm to die with honour, rather
Than live with fame attainted. Sigiswold,
My father, died with honour.

CENULPH
(starting at the name).
Sigiswold!

INA.
I am his daughter! and like him I die
For thee, and for thy people.—If his blood,
His faithful blood, that at thy feet flow'd forth,
While thronging subjects hail'd thy rescued life!
Have any claim upon a royal heart,
(But, haply, nursed in soft prosperity,
A king is not a man that he should pity!)
Oh! in my father's name—to thee—my father!
My Egbert's father, therefore mine, I sue.

CENULPH.
I'll hear no more—away! I have sworn thy death.

INA.
And I will die content—indeed I will,
If thou wilt hear thy victim's dying prayer.
Grant, grant, that I once more behold my husband!
Oh! let thy Egbert once more see his child!
And bless him, once, once more! Oh! let me see him,
And parting, speak as holy wedded love,
So rudely sever'd in its youthful prime,
May prompt. This last, this sad, this little comfort,
Canst thou refuse to her whose father saved thee?
A mother! and a wife! whose throbbing breast
Thy hand so soon will still for ever?

CENULPH
(groans).
Oh!

INA.
Merciful God! thou dost wipe off a tear?
Spite of thyself thou hast a father's heart!
[Eagerly pressing the child towards him.
Look on thy Egbert's child, and let me hear,
Ere yet, at day-break, I lay down my life,
A grandsire's blessing pour'd upon his head!
[Cenulph snatches the child to his bosom. Ina contemplates them with rapture, then with trembling anxiety and hope.
Father! and shall I see my Egbert too?

CENULPH.
Yes! thou shalt see him—nor for thousand worlds
Shalt thou be torn from him!
[Embraces her and the child together, with agonizing emotion—then
Come, Ethelbald!
In all thy terrors, come! I am prepared—
I and my children will defy thy rage.

EDRED
(behind the scenes).
Nay, let me pass. Ye shall not stay my steps.
Monarchs would wish their slumbers ever broken
By tidings such as these!
(Entering).
King Cenulph! joy!
Th' invading host no longer threatens thee.
While they advanced in insolence and pride,
Dreaming of conquest—as the god of battles
Prince Egbert came!—with skill, his powers dividing,
He rush'd upon the foe from every side.
Disorder'd, broken, they but fell on death
Where'er they turn'd. 'Twas one wide slaughter all.
Our brooks run crimson to th' affrighted sea!
Our thirsty fallows drink of Mercian blood!
Countless the prisoners!—Ethelbald is taken!

Enter Edelfleda.
EDELFLEDA.
Egbert victorious!—Ethelbald in chains!
And is it true? and am I quite undone?
[Seeing Cenulph embrace Ina.
What sight is this that blasts the blessed sense
Of vision? doom'd to death a few hours since,
Feeble old man, by thee and by thy council,
I see her now, clasp'd in thy trembling arms,
While tears of dotage o'er thy eye-balls swell.
Stand I alone in the wide world?—no power
That rules our fates to avenge or to protect me?
Then will I be protector to myself!
My own avenger!—independent—single—
Supreme!—though but in misery and guilt!

[She rushes to stab Ina. Cenulph seizes her arm, and the attendants surround her.
CENULPH.
Guard her, Lord Oswald, with respectful care.—
This frantic act was but the effect of grief.

INA.
Soothe her, my lord. Who shall compassionate
Her soul's distracted state if Ina do not?
Oh! use not harsh constraint, lest she should feel
Too heavy on her heart her father's chains,
Her fortune's overthrow.

EDELFLEDA.
This ruffian grasp!
And think ye, sirs, ye hold some lawless hind
By sordid rapine stain'd?—I am a princess!
A mighty monarch's daughter!—though dethroned—
And sacred still my person!—Nay, unhand me.
[They leave her.
See, I am tranquil, king!—
(To Ina).
Nor tremble thou—
One moment I forgot myself—no more—
But to high Heaven belongs to judge the faults
Of royal souls!—the royal soul itself,
|Heaven's best interpreter!—and royal hands
Alone shall execute Heaven's just decree!

[Stabs herself.
INA.
Hold, hold her hand, Lord Oswald! 'tis too late!
What hast thou done?

EDELFLEDA.
To Mercia's wretched princess
I have secured an honourable death!—
I could not live degraded!—thou or I—
Must yield!—'tis mine—I will'd it so!—and now—
(Which Edelfleda had not ask'd and lived)
Thy pardon, Ina!

INA.
Oh! much-injured princess!
Thou pardon rather the unworthy Ina
That happiness it now seems guilt to own!

EDELFLEDA.
These torpid pulses, with—mad passion throb—
No longer—all—is calm—and cold—tell Egbert—
I—dying—bless'd—your loves!—I pray—you—both—
Think—kindly—sometimes—kindly—speak—of me—

CENULPH.
Oh! Edelfleda! rash, unhappy maid!
Thy hand has dash'd from thee exalted good;
The good congenial to thy lofty spirit!
Seated on Mercia's throne, thy soul of love
Had in a people's bliss secured thy own.

EDELFLEDA.
No, monarch—no; there is—no bliss—for one—
Who—loving virtue, but—by passion—driven—
To worst—extremes—can never—never—more
Honour—herself.—Oh! let—the quiet—grave—
Close o'er—my sorrows—and my—fault. That pang!—
And now—I rest—

[Dies.
INA.
Oh Heaven! her soul is fled!

CENULPH.
Poor Edelfleda! Summon her attendants!
Good Bertha, bear her hence; apply each means
If yet a lingering breath of life—

EDRED.
My liege,
We fear some ill may have befallen Prince Egbert.

CENULPH.
Where is he? Comes he not?

EDRED.
There came a man,
With visor down—in breathless haste he came;
They spoke apart with gestures violent,
And sudden sped together o'er the plain.

INA.
'Twas to his heart's dear home my Egbert sped!
He will be there ere we can reach it, father!

[She rushes out, Cenulph follows.