University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Rocky Coast, without the City of Chester.
Athelwold, Elfrid, Edwyn, Men and Women Attendants.
Athelwold
, to an Attendant.
Back to the Boat; caution the Mariners,
When ask'd, what Lady shar'd our ill-tim'd Wreck,
To answer, at their Peril, as I taught 'em.
Edwyn.—

[Exit Attendant.
Edwyn.
My Lord?

Athelwold.
Haste, watchful and unmark'd,
Climb that high Path, and, ent'ring my Apartment,
Thro' the close Grove that bounds the Palace Garden,
Warn Egbert to receive us: So shall we shun
The City's busy Eye.—Elfrid, my Wife!
[Exit Edwyn.
My Hope! my Fear! my Pride! my Soul's soft Joy!
Was ever fatal Shipwreck tim'd like ours?

Elfrid.
Why kept we not the Sea? Those unseen Shoals
Had then been left, far distant.

Athelwold.
Shame on this Pride
That swells the Hearts of Kings!—But that I shunn'd
His wide-stretch'd Navy, whose expanded Wings
Inclos'd yon empty Triumph, we had, in Safety,
Held on our Course for Lancaster,—and Edgar,
And Chester's dreaded Walls, been pass'd, unseen.

Elfrid.
Why shunn'd you Edgar? You had struck no Shoal,
Had Jealousy not wreck'd you. Where was the Danger,
Had we, amid the shouting Swarms, approach'd
His glitt'ring Barge? that, proud of eight Kings Rowing,
Methought, mov'd, conscious of her glorious Freight,
And felt her Sovereign's Triumph!

Athelwold.
Edgar is young,
Am'rous, impatient, hot as the Summer Sun;
But as the Shadow changing.—Emma, the Sister
Of Leolyn, my Friend, must be his Queen.
That Day once past, that Day, now near, my Elfrid,
Trembling no longer, for my Soul's best Treasure,
I shall unveil thee to the Eye of Edgar:
Then, in full Lustre, break upon the Court,
Charm the glad World, and swell the Voice of Wonder.
Till then—

Elfrid.
Till then, you think, a Woman's Honour
Is safest when not trusted?—Come, be wise;
Laugh at your Sex's Notions, and see Truth,
Unprejudic'd by Maxim. You have been taught
That a Man's Caution guards a Woman's Vertue:
Believe me, 'tis an Error.—Wrong'd by the Doubt,
We make that Doubt our Licence, and grow light,
To justify Suspicion.

Athelwold.
Of thee not jealous:
I fear the Heart of Edgar: There is a Secret
Which, yet, thou must not know!—For all the Glory
Fortune could heap upon a happy Wisher,
I would not he had seen thee.

Elfrid.
Why chuse you then
To lodge me in the Gardens of his Palace?

Athelwold.
Safely conceal'd, in my Apartment, there,
While Triumph busies the tumultuous Court,
Fair as thou art, thou may'st remain unknown,
Till soon we re-imbark for Lancaster:
But Fate has driven me under Edgar's Eye,
Nor can I shun his Presence.—
[A Shout at distance.
The Barge, triumphant,
'Twixt the two sounding Banks, floats proudly in;
See! the broad Sprinklings from the golden Oars,
Dash'd, in gay Mists, against the glitt'ring Sun,
Scatter a liquid Lightning!—E're the King lands,
Retire, my Soul's soft Charmer. From this Boat,
That foremost strikes the Shore, descends a Lord,
Wily, suspicious, flatt'ring, base, and busy:
Malice and Fear divide his motley Soul:
Soft'ning Submission dwells on his cool Tongue;
But his Heart burns with Envy.—See! he lands;
Oswald, the State's Prime Minister.—Retire;
He must not see thee.—Look!—Edwyn attends thy Coming.

[Exit, leading Elfrid.
Enter Oswald, attended.
Oswald.
[Exit first Messenger.
[Exit second Messenger.
[Exit third Messenger.
Re-enter Athelwold.

Athelwold.
Oh! 'tis too kind, my Lord, amidst your Cares,
To waste this fine Court Rhet'rick, on a Plainness
So unadorn'd as mine!—In War's big Pomp,
The King, sometimes, in the broad Battle's Front,
Finds Athelwold, most near him: But, for a Day
So safely plum'd as this, a thousand Feathers,
Loftier and far more gay than mine had been,
Were proud, no doubt, to wave in State about him.

Oswald.
Nay, my good Lord! your Enemies must own
Your Valour's ablest Rival is your Reason.

Athelwold.
Why will you angle, with too short a Line,
In Depths of cautious Honesty?—I know you.—
Why will you still, you and your envious Faction,
Bow, to the happy Favourite you hate,
And smile your Curses on me?—Shame on your Meanness!
If I deserve Esteem, give it, sincere:
If not, disdain to court the Man you fear,
And, with brave Truth, renounce me.

Oswald.
Why, thus 'tis, ever!
Distrustful Men but nourish new Suspicions
From the best Means we use, to quench the old.
Still I am misconceiv'd.—My Lord! My Lord!
Ill Agents have been busy.—And here comes one,
Re-enter Edwyn.
Whom Oswald should avoid.—I'll charm the King
With News of your Return.
[Exit Oswald.

Edwyn.
A new-born Love
Is full of soft Impatience!—Soon as arriv'd,
I was commanded to return, and press you
To shorten your meant Absence.

Athelwold.
Is she safe?

Edwyn.
Egbert is warn'd, shou'd the King quit the Crowd,
And but approach the Garden, to conceal her.

Athelwold.
Then I will fear
No longer, but expect the King; and meet him
With a mask'd Smile of Innocence.—O Edwyn!
Should Ethelinda know I have married Elfrid,
How wretched would it make her!—Oswald hates thee:
As if he read our Secret, through thy Heart;
Saw there thy gen'rous Silence, which conceals
My dear stol'n Night of Joy with that soft Charmer.
Who that saw both, could think her Neice to Oswald?

Edwyn.
So, my good Lord, would her false Servant say;
That doubly faithless Fair-one, who betray'd
To me her Lady's Honour, yet forsook me!

Athelwold.
She wrong'd her Mistress; but she lov'd thee surely!
Who, in that Secret, gave up both our Honours,
To thy safe Keeping.—But, since all was told thee,
'Twere now a fruitless Point of proud Reserve,
With thee, to keep that Silence, which the Favour'd
Shou'd hold, in rev'rence of a Lady's Honour,
As sacred as his Glory.—Oh! suppose not,
Because she bless'd my Wishes, that Ethelinda
Yielded like common Beauties.

Edwyn.
'Twas plain, You lov'd her;
For, when her Horse was drown'd, in Severn's Ford,
You, from your own, leapt, rash: Thro' the swol'n stream,
Plung'd on, and snatch'd her, sinking.

Athelwold.
A warlike Symphony.

Edwyn.
Fatal Wreck!
Heaven, that commission'd it, avert my Fears.
[Exit Edwyn.

Athelwold
, alone.
He comes—I'll walk a Turn behind these Rocks;
And gather Firmness, to sustain his Eye,
Whom, most of Men I love; yet, most have wrong'd.

[Exit.