University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE. A Garden, Elfrid, and Ordelia.
Elf.
Why, at an Hour, so late, so odd as this,
Shou'd my Ordelia chuse a Garden Conference?

Ord.
Because the Garden yields such private Walks,
That we may talk unseen, or unsuspected;
Your Husband's Honour, Safety, Happiness,
Depend on your Concealment from the King.

Elf.
Alas! Experience has instructed him
How to conceal me from the King you name:
Ought I to hold his Happiness so dear,
Who turn'd the Tide of mine, when its full Flow
Bore Crowns and Scepters towards me?—No,—Ordelia!
This Athelwold has wrong'd me, basely wrong'd me.

Ord.
The Faults of Love are Nature's kindest Errors;
Had he not lov'd, he had not injur'd you,
If stepping in betwixt a Crown, and you
May be reputed Injury—Oh! Elfrid,
We view the outward Glories of a Crown;
But, dazled with the Lustre, cannot see
The Thorns which line it, and whose painful Prickings
Embitter all the pompous Sweets of Empire.
Happier the Wretch who at his daily Toils
Sweats for his homely Dinner,—than a King
In all the dang'rous Pomp of Royalty!
He knows no Fears of State, to damp his Joys;
No Treason shakes the humble Bed he lyes on;
Nor dreads he Poison in his peaceful Bowls;
He sleeps contented in the guileless Arms
Of his unjealous Consort;—frightful Dreams
Break not his Slumbers with the shocking sight
Of bloody Daggers, and Ideal Murders.
True, he's a Stranger to the Pow'r of Kings,
But then again, he is as much a Stranger
To Kingly Cares, and Miseries—

Elf.
Fie, Ordelia,
Who taught thee to blaspheme the Heav'n of Pow'r?
With Arguments, the distant Vulgar use,
Whose grovling Souls too prostrate to attain,
Vilely traduce the Bliss of Majesty?
A King has something more than Earthly in him:
There's but a Step betwixt a God and him!
Oh! there's a kind of Pleasure in Supremacy,
No more to be express'd, than to be equall'd!
And they, who praise not, nay, who wish not Empire,
Are such mean, lowly, half-created Souls,
As are too blind to see, or weak to guide
The flaming Wheels of the bright Car of Pow'r.

Ord.
Had Cræsus thought so, when the destin'd Faggots
Began with rising Flames to singe his Royalty,
He had not in the Anguish of his Soul
Remember'd Solon's Counsel.—

Elf.
Those stale Fables
Will fright a Noble Soul from Search of Empire,
No more than one brave General's Fall in Battel
Shou'd check the Beat of Valour in his Mind,
Who takes his glorious Station. Fate finds all;
Kings are but Men, and Miseries may reach them;
But they, like strong-built Forts, maintain their Safety
Long after undefended Countries yield.

Ord.
Ah! no! the Heights they stand on, double Danger,
Tempests, and Thunderbolts, and Earthquakes shocks,
O'erwhelm huge Mountains with their dreadful force,
While the low Valleys, and the humble Plains
Possess untroubled Safety.

Elf.
Still you reason,
And still my Soul flies back from Reason's Call,
To the more tempting Musick of Ambition.

Ord.
Oh! 'tis a Syren's Voice Ambition sings with;
Why will you listen, when 'tis Ruin calls you?
Lean not your Mind an Inch from Vertue, Elfrid:
Vice has the Art of the false Crocodile;
If you but slumber in the Boat of Honour,
'Twill twist its jointed Tail of Venom round you,
And draw you downward thro' a Gulph of Mischief.

Elf.
What! do you take take the Liberty to doubt,
I can abandon Honour?

Ord.
No, not so,
But they, who Counsel best, may hear Advice,
For Caution is no burden to the Wisest.

Elf.
You wou'd do well to look to your own Actions,
I judge your Caution too officious, Sister,
I find, in spite of Reasons clearest Opticks,
Some People can be blind to their own Faults;
But when another's Failings are their Object,
The dimmest Eye of Folly sees to Censure.

Ord.
If I've offended you, your Pardon, Sister,
'Twas not the Crime of Jealousie, but Zeal;
Love led me to the Guilt, and Love I hope
Will guide you readily to its Forgiveness:
Perhaps my Absence might not be unwelcome,
I have heard say, that when the Mind's disturb'd,
The fittest Cure is Balmy Solitude.
[Exit Ordelia.

Elf.
[Alone.]
Alas! she prob'd the Wound too deep to cure it,
For Sin is too deform'd to see her self;
Were this King gone! or wou'd he never go!
I know not which of those to wish with Joy,
My Vertue points me one, one my Desire;
Oh, Conscience! grow more strong, or yield thee quite,
Shall I, or shall I not, consent to Sin?
Answer me Heav'n! But hold, what will Heav'n answer?
Answer me Hell; for Heav'n will damn Desire,
And be a Hell within me—Ha! he comes,
By all the hopes of Nature Edgar comes,
The mighty Monarch comes; my Guardian Angel,
Knocks at my Breast, and says, he comes for thee;
Lose this Occasion, and lose hope for ever;
I'll walk the other way, and plead with Nature,
Or rather Nature shall contend with Duty.
[Exit Elfrid.

Enter the King and Egbert.
King.
Oh! never urge it, Egbert, she has Charms,
Wou'd make a Bearded Hermit quit his Cell,
And own no God, but Beauty.

Egb.
She has Charms,
But there are Faces fairer far than hers.

King.
Oh! she has that vast Beauty of the Mind,
The loveliest Face in Nature cannot equal;
Faces are gilded Baits to catch Fools Hearts with,
The superficial Varnishes to hide
The Flaws that lurk beneath them—Wit like hers,
And that engaging Air of artless Innocence,
Shall strike the Heart, ten thousand Faces reach not.

Egb.
[Aside.]
By Heav'n he loves her! I'll discover all,
The stronger Poison must expel the weaker.

King.
And then such modest Blushes grace her Speech,
Such winning Gestures wait on what she utters,
He must not be a Man, who, seeing her,
Envys not Athelwold her sweet Possession.

Egb.
True! she has worth!—but, oh! she has a Sister,
As far beyond her—every way beyond her,
As Mountain Snow beyond the Fogs of Morning.

King.
A Sister, say'st thou, fairer than her self?

Egb.
O, every way more Charming, Sir, than she;
She has a Sister, who, like Forest Pines,
Stands with an aspect of erected Majesty;
But then so Condescending, and so kind,
As if her humble Soul was form'd to prove,
Pride dwells not in appearance—Then her Face
Has all the Brightness of an Angels Look,
Without the Terror of it.—Her soft Voice,
Like sudden Musick, heard at dead of Night,
Wakes wonder, that our Pleasure may dissolve it;
The Rainbow has no White and Red, to match her,
Lilies grow paler, and the Roses blush,
To see themselves worn by her for; their shame,
Not her own Ornament;—Her rising Breasts,
Like Snow-Top'd Mountains, mark her Eden's Confines,
Betwixt them lies a Plain, so lovely fair,
It seems the milky way to Beauties Heav'n!

King.
Can Stars, like this, shine in my Hemisphere,
And I not see their Glory,—sure thou dream'st,
Fairer than Elfrid, say'st thou?

Egb.
Not than Elfrid,
For how can Elfrid be more fair than Elfrid?

King.
Art thou grown mad?—Thou saidst this beauteous Creature
Was Elfrid's Sister, and more fair than Elfrid.

Egb.
Fairer she is by far than Elfrid is,
If she be Elfrid's self, whom we call Elfrid.

King.
Hell! Dost thou mock me with a Womans Riddle?

Egb.
Women themselves are Riddles; few they are,
Who can unfold them rightly.

King.
Hast thou meaning?
Or dost thou dally with thy Sov'reigns Passions?

Egb.
[Aside.]
I am advanc'd too far for a Retreat,
Athelwold shares too much of the King's Favour,
And Love and Policy conspire his Ruin.
To the King.]
In short your Majesty has not seen Elfrid;
For Athelwold, remembring the Deceit
By which he gain'd her, fear'd your just Resentment,
And won the kind Ordelia, Elfrid's Sister,
To personate the Wife he fear'd to lose.

King.
What! has the Man I trusted, wrong'd me so?
O Love! thy Power is uncontroul'd indeed,
If it can make an honest Man a Villain!

Egb.
I dare not plead to save his Life, who thus
Has prov'd disloyal to a Prince so Gracious.

King.
Thou art too zealous in thy Sov'reign's Cause;
I wou'd not touch so brave a Subject's Life,
For all the Female Charms the World cou'd give me;
I will not strain Revenge beyond its Cause;
Love taught the Subject to betray his King,
And Love shall teach the King to wrong his Subject.
If this be Sin, 'tis sure the smallest Sin
Unbounded Power can know; and Gracious Heav'n
Alleviates Punishments for Crimes of Love,
When urg'd by Provocations great as mine.

Egb.
Ha! see! lest you shou'd doubt I said too much
In praise of Elfrid's Charms, kind Heav'n has sent her
To prove her Worth, and my Sincerity.

King.
If that be she, who yonder pensive comes,
She seems some fair Inhabitant of Heav'n,
Shot with a falling Star from yon bright Regions,
To light the World below!—

Egb.
Observe her, Sir,
She takes our Walk, and musing, sees us not.

Enter Elfrid in a melancholy Posture.
Elf.
I'll curb my longing Glances, lest they judge
'Tis Choice, not Chance, that guides me: Oh! my Soul!
He bears a wond'rous Magick in his Person!

King.
If to disturb so fair a Creatures Thoughts
May be forgiven a Prince, who wond'ring sees you,
You will not change that lovely Countenance,
To frown on Interruption.

Elf.
Heav'ns defend me!
I little thought I shou'd meet Strangers here,
I came to seek a solitary Walk.

King.
Who can blame you for loving Solitude,
When Earth's too poor to furnish a Companion,
That may deserve the Blessing of your Converse.

Elf.
The Words you speak to me, serve but to prove
You're us'd to talk with Ladies far above me;
I am a Guest, like you, to the kind Owner
Of these fair Gardens.

King.
Ah! too well I know you,
Too well, because I do not know you mine:
I am your King; but oh! how vainly so,
When you enslave the Power you shou'd obey!

Elf.
[Kneeling.]
Oh, Royal Sir! since I perceive you know me,
Tho' by what fatal means is yet a Secret;
Accept my prostrate Debt of Duty thus:
But oh! if ever Pity touch'd your Breast,
If the Intreaties of a wretched Woman
Have Pow'r to pierce the Ear of Majesty,
Forget that I, unhappy I, am Elfrid,
And for the sake of my dear Athelwold,
Who only cou'd have forc'd me to deceive you;
For his sake pity me, and him for mine,
And do not,—do not let him know you saw me.
Next, oh! forgive me, if I fly your sight,
Since Duty fights with Duty, and compels me.

[Rises and goes out.
King.
By Heav'n, 'till now I never saw Perfection;
All the gay Bubbles of the worthless Court
Were but the Shadows to this Queen of Beauty.
Oh, Athelwold! I feel thy Treason now!
What shall I do to gain her? For tho' Ghosts
Shou'd shake their shrowded Forms to bid me stand;
Tho' Thunder roar'd to check me, and the Earth
Gap'd with a Grave-like Yawn 'twixt her and me,
I cou'd not, wou'd not stop, 'till I possess'd her.

Egb.
I cannot wonder at, nor blame your Vow;
But open Violation will not suit
That Godlike Justice you are greatly fam'd for.
Caution and Prudence must assist the Race
A Man wou'd fairly win;—a little Patience
Will help Contrivance, and Contrivance gain her.

King.
Patience! thou Lump of Ice! a Curse on Patience!
Preach Patience to the Ocean when it roars;
When Cities burn, climb to the Tops of Tow'rs,
And thence preach Patience to the Wind-born Flames;
Bid Hostile Armies, rushing on to Blood,
Stand still, and listen to the Whine of Patience:
But to name Patience to a Love like mine,
Is to give tastless Drops to Men in Fevers.
I am on Fire within me, and the Streams
Of gushing Rivers might rush thro' me now,
And fail to quench my burning.

Egb.
Pray be calm,
E'er many hours are past, I'll find some means
To bring your Majesty to Elfrid's Chamber;
There, while the warm Impressions of Resentment
Whisper her Soul how much her Husband wrong'd her,
Touch that String artfully, 'twill jarr within her,
And echo Notes fit for Revenge and Pleasure.

King.
Thou talk'st of hours, when Moments are too tedious;
A Leaden Age rolls on in every minute.

Egb.
Ha! I have form'd a Notion in my Soul,
That will compleat your Joy soon as you wish it.

King.
Give the great Embryo Birth, and share my Kingdom.

Egb.
Earl Athelwold, among his numerous Vertues,
Cannot find one that's proof 'gainst Flattery;
For Flattery's an unseen Enemy,
And ruins gallant Souls, as Poisons kill,
Which Villains mix with Consecrated Wine,
So to be swallow'd as an holy Cordial:
Arm'd then with Flatt'ry, seek this Athelwold,
Praise him, and talk him into a Conceit,
That he of all your Subjects is the Man
In whom alone you safely can confide;
Then, when his Mind, work'd to a secret Pride
Is fit for your Impression, mildly tell him,
It does not suit a kind Guests Gratitude
To send his gen'rous Host on Services
So full of Trouble;—But your Honour urges,
And having weigh'd Lord Ordgar's Inexperience,
You find him no ways equal to the Charge
Of treating with a Foe so wise as Ludwall:
So take the Liberty to fix on him,
And press him to Departure.

King.
He'll suspect me,
He's a discerning Man, the Turn's too sudden,
And the Request too odd to pass unguess'd.

Egb.
My Life shall answer it, it passes on him;
But still the Wheel that moves it must be Flatt'ry.
Think on the glorious Opportunity
His sudden absence leaves you; and mean while
The Task be mine to entertain Ordelia,
With whom Lord Ordgar's Jealousy of me
Can never fail to keep him.—Thus your Majesty
Making right use of all these Circumstances,
May find fair Elfrid no severe Diana;
And so enjoy the utmost Bliss you wish
Without the Publick Infamy.—

King.
Oh, Egbert!
Thou art a glorious Villain, Judas's self
Was a faint Type of thee, thou Prince of Mischief.
Come, let us in: I'll seek Earl Athelwold,
Nor lose a moment's time to prove thy Skill.
Witness ye Heav'ns I ne'er offended Vertue,
But where the strongest Passion Nature feels
Inclin'd, nay forc'd my backward Soul to sin.
Tyrants may boast their Pow'r;—but oh! they prove
Kings who enslave the World, are Slaves to Love.—