University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

The SCENE continues. Enter Ordgar. The Stage wholly darken'd, with Thunder and Lightning.
Ordg.
So vast a Change in the bright Face of Heav'n
Ne'er made Earth wonder; for the silver Moon
Wreaths her pale Horns with folds of mourning Sable,
As if some Tragedy were to be play'd
In Heav'ns high Theatre; whose shifting Scenes
Have fill'd the World with such a solid Darkness,
The Sun will fail to pierce it; and the Wings
Of flutt'ring Ravens beat against the Windows,
While Birds of Omen with foreboding Skreams
Make Horror's self more horrid; Ev'ry Board
Seems to send up a Groan, when trod upon;
Strange colour'd Lights are hurried to and fro
Without a hand to guide them, whose pale Flames
Serve not for Light, but Terror.—What this means,
My Soul, too weak to tell, forbears to guess at!

Enter Athelwold feeling his Way.
Athel.
The House is silent, as if Death reign'd in it!
Such silence doubles Horror!

Ordg.
Who's there?

Athel.
Ordgar!

Ordg.
Who calls me with a Voice so like my Friends?

Athel.
'Tis I, thy Athelwold.

Ordg.
What brings you back?

Athel.
May I speak here with safety?

Ordg.
None can hear,
No Mortal treads this Floor besides us two.

Athel.
Oh, Odgar! Fate designs some wondrous Mischief.
Soon as I left my Wife, I strait took Horse,
And spurr'd full speed directly thro' that Road
Which leads to the wide Heath, that lies between
The Wood of Beeches, and my Park's West-entrance.
No sooner had I gain'd the open Common,
But such a Darkness shut the Eye of Heav'n,
As made sight useless, and a storm of Rain
Beat in my Face with an impetuous fury,
Driv'n by a rising Wind, that whistled round me;
And ever, and anon, a dreadful Peal
Of rattling Thunder burst the Walls of Heav'n,
And drove the flashing Lightning thro' the Gloom
With crooked Keeness, and portentous Horror.
I spurr'd in vain; for still the more I strove,
The Horse more startled at the Storm's Increase,
Turn'd sidelong to the Weather, 'till at last
All on a sudden, up he bounded backward,
And lighting roughly on the slipp'ry Ground,
Fell, and with angry hoofs kick'd at the Air.

Ordg.
A strange Misfortune! sure this Fall has bruis'd you.

Athel.
Alas! Ten thousand thousand Falls, my Ordgar,
Wou'd fail with all their force to bruise my Body
So much as this one Fall has bruis'd my Soul:
For—oh! my Nature shrinks at the Rememb'rance!
And Courage shakes within me!—As I rose,
And stood surpriz'd, I felt a sudden Force,
Which, like the stiff cold hand of a dead Friend,
Touch'd me behind, and pull'd me gently backward;
I turn'd, and oh! amazing Sight!—beheld
The shrouded Ghost of my dear aged Father;
In the sad posture of a Man who mourns!
The Phantom stood, and wrung its hands before me,
The Head, in speechless gestures, thus—and thus,
Seem'd willing, but unable to advise me;
And while my knocking Knees bent to the Earth,
That in the posture of an awful Duty,
I might desire to know the mighty Cause,
Which broke the peaceful Marble he was laid in,
To send him back to Earth in this strange Form,
Ev'n while the half-born Words dy'd on my Tongue,
He seem'd to weep, groan'd thrice and vanish'd from me.

Ordg.
Prodigious! and amazing! vanish'd thus?

Athel.
Vanish'd, and left a Heart of Ice within me;
I ventur'd to remount my Horse, and rode
Swift, as the Gloom permitted, back again;
I enter'd at the Gate, which you left open,
And pass'd unnoted.—Now, my Ordgar, say,
What strange Discoveries hast thou made?—Oh! tell me,
For sure this War of Nature must mean something.

Ordg.
A dreadful something sure! What e'er it be;
But rest thou happy; Peace and Thou may meet;
Good Heav'n preserve the King from these bad Omens!

Athel.
I heard the Servants as I pass'd a Door,
Where some were met, whisper in Words of Fear,
As if the King were gone to Bed disorder'd.

Ordg.
'Tis highly probable, for since I came,
No Tread of Man or Woman has been heard,
Not a Mouse stirring this way;—Solemn Silence
Has kept the guiltless Door of Elfrid's Chamber.

Athel.
Then I am bless'd, then Heav'n is kind indeed;
Let Omens upon Omens threaten now,
Since Elfrid's Love and Vertue bid me fear not;
Hark! is not that a Tread?

Ordg.
The step speaks Man.—

Athel.
I wou'd not have him hear me,—I'll go round,
And entring Elfrid's Chamber the back way,
Surprize her with my Presence, and its Cause.—

As Athelwold goes off on one side the Stage, enter Egbert on the other.
Egb.
Hem! Hem! Sir, are you here?

Ordg.
Ha! 'tis a Voice
That seems to give a sign to one expected;
I'll answer him,—Hem,—Hem.—

Egb.
My Lord the King?

Ordg.
[Aside.]
Ha! is it there you are?—Oh! Hell!—the same.

Egb.
I met Ordelia when I left your Majesty,
And after long Entreaties had been vain
To win her Heart from Ordgar, told her plainly
Your Majesty took his late Act so ill,
That Banishment wou'd follow your Displeasure.
This mov'd her Bosom with a War of Passions,
And if, while your Resentment now is warm,
Your Majesty wou'd banish for a while
That boy'strous Youth, whose Pride sullies his Worth,
I shou'd be happy in Ordelia's Love;
Absence wou'd teach her to forget my Rival;
And such a Punishment on Ordgar done
Wou'd teach some discontented great ones Duty.
If by my means you have, as sure you have,
Possess'd the Lovely Elfrid, be this Grant
The sole Reward it gains me.

Ordg.
[Aside.]
Oh, thou Villain!

[Drawing.
Egb.
Why is the Majesty of England silent?
What Joys, what Transports has fair Elfrid giv'n you?
Oh fill my Breast with some unheard of—

Ordg.
stabbing him.]
Torture,—
There Hellhound! there, thou hast what suits thy Merit,
Down to the Devils, down, Hell is thy Home,
And thus I send thee thither.—

Egb.
Curses find thee,
Tho' Death and Darkness hide thee from my Eyes.

[Dies.
Ordg.
Furies tear thee as thou hast torn my Quiet,
Down Devil, down, and tell the Prince of Darkness
Ordgar has sent a Fiend more black than he,
To fill the burning Throne of Hells Dominions:
Oh! what a shock has my poor Soul sustain'd!
Now Athelwold! Unhappy Athelwold!
Poor, Ruin'd, Lost, Undone Friend Athelwold!
I can forgive thee now for all thy Fears;
I was a Novice in the School of Nature,
And had not learnt till now to spell a Villain;
Night wears not all this hideous Dress for nothing.
Oh! Athelwold! poor, wretched Athelwold!
Enter Ordelia with a Candle.
Ordelia! Dear Ordelia! thou art honest,
Venture not one step farther, Hell reigns here,
And Plagues will blast thy Footsteps.

Ord.
Ordgar here!
Oh Prodigy! Methoughts I heard a noise,
And snatch'd a Light to run—

Ordg.
Take the Light hence—
For what has Light to do with Deeds of Darkness?
Yet stay, 'twill guide me to my Friends Revenge,
Oh! lead me to the King, this Monster King,
And I'll rob Heav'n of Vengeance, Blood and Vengeance.

Ord.
Alas! what strange Disorder shakes you thus?

Ordg,
Look here, and let Death answer; Death! what's Death!
What is one Death for such a List of Treasons?
Oh! that thou cou'dst but furnish me a Life
For every damning Sin thy black Soul swell'd with,
Thus wou'd I stab thee, thus, thus, kill thee Ages;
But I'll go seek the injur'd Athelwold,
Revenge is sweetest to the wrong'd Mans Taste,
And his shou'd surfeit on it—

[Exit Ordgar snatching the Light from Ordelia.
Ord.
Bounteous Heav'n,
Rain Mercy here, for sure whole Showrs must fall,
Before this Stain of Murder disappears.—

[Runs out after Ordgar.
Re-enter Athelwold in the Dark.
Athel.
I knock'd, but Elfrid cou'd, or wou'd not hear me,
A Leaden Weight of Fear hangs o my Soul;
Hark! There's the Voice again; thrice has that Sound
Rung thro' my Ears like some shrill Skream of Woe!
And in my Father's Accents thrice pronounc'd
The dark foreboding Words expect and bear.
Sure he, who can bear Prodigies like these,
These Racks of Terror, and these Stings of Conscience,
These threatning Omens, these portentous Shockings,
These dreadful Prologues to the Scenes of Fate,
Will never shrink from Mischiefs keenest Edge,
Nor the hudge Strides of formidable Horror.
Why, what a Wreck of Heav'n and Earth is here,
To usher in the Fall of one poor Mortal!
Death is too common to need all this State,
And the cold Graves kind Bosom lies as open
To stateless Entrance, as to solemn Ruin.
Hope is no more, and with Hope, Fear is dead;
But hark! a Tread, perhaps 'tis Elfrid comes,
I'll walk and meet her.—

Enter the King, as from Elfrid's Chamber.
King.
Oh! I hear thee, Egbert,
Give me thy guiding Hand, this sudden Darkness
Made my way difficult from Elfrid's Arms,
Who wou'd not suffer me to bring a Light,
Least I might so discover my stol'n Happiness.

Athel.
Oh! that some Thunder-bolt wou'd strike thee dumb,
And bless my Ears with Deafness.

King.
What art thou,
Who speak'st so like the Man, who wrong'd his Prince?

Athel.
The wretched'st Husband, and most injur'd Subject
Will teach your guilty Tongue to call me Athelwold.

King.
How dard'st thou disobey my late Commands?

Athel.
How dar'd you wrong a Man who loves Revenge?

King.
Am I your King?
And have I giv'n you Honours after Honours,
Titles on Titles.—

Athel.
Titles! Yes,—of Cuckold—
Hell! and Confusion! Were you King of Nature
Above the Pow'r of Fate, and wrong'd my Bed,
I wou'd lave Oceans dry, but I would reach you;
The Flames of Lightning shou'd not scorch me back,
Nor Thunder drive me from my just Revenge.

King.
Thou dar'st not lift thy Arm to wound thy Prince.

Athel.
Dare I not, King?—Yes, by the Pow'rs of Heav'n
I dare as much against thee, thus offending,
As I dar'd for thee; when this single Arm
Drove Hostile Squadrons of Welch Rebels back;
While thy fall'n Horse expos'd thy treach'rous Breast
To a whole Grove of Lances bent against thee;
Oh! Had I then, instead of saving, kill'd thee,
Instead of thee, I had preserv'd my Honour!

King.
How is thy Honour lost?

Athel.
Damn the base Question,
Does not my Wife's Disloyalty lose Honour?

King.
No; not thy Wife's, thy own Disloyalty
First lost thy Honour; if thou e'er hadst any;
Elfrid is mine, not thine, and pleas'd to hear it:
Nothing but that cou'd ease the Pain thou gav'st me.
But, Traitor, know, and let it grate thy Soul,
Thy Wife, repenting, that she let thy Hand
Pluck the first Flow'r from her rich Field of Beauty,
Has kindly own'd me Lord of that fair Garden,
And giv'n me free Possession of the whole,
With leave to Revel uncontrol'd, and often,
And guard my Paradise from Fiends like thee.

Athel.
I thank thee, thou hast rais'd me now indeed;
Draw, for my Sword shall see to thy false Heart,
Tho' my Eyes cannot find thee;—Lights here, Lights.

[Draws.
King.
Slave! Know thy King.

Athel.
Damnation! all thy Majesty
Has lost the Sacred Pow'r that us'd to guard thee;
For Guilt debases Kings to common Sinners,
And common Punishments for injur'd Honour
Shall strike thee thro' thy Shield of Royalty;
Lights, Lights, here Lights!—

Enter Elfrid, surpriz'd, with a Light.
Elf.
Tell me, here!
What direful Mischief has befall'n the King,
That this Noise reach'd my Chamber?—Athelwold!

[Starting.
Athel.
I thank thee Heav'n;—and thus revenge my Wrongs;
Die, fair foul Damner, die;—and Shame die with thee.

[Stabs Elfrid.
Elf.
Oh! let Revenge, so full, restore thy Peace!
And expiate the Guilt of thy lost Elfrid.

[She dies.
King.
Mourn Widow'd World! for Beauty dies with her,
Oh! she is gone! the Star of Love is fall'n,
And Pleasure withers in her flow'ry Blossom!
Thou, Traitor! shal't not live to boast her Murder!
Go—Villain, follow her,—her Ghost demands thee.

[Stabs Athelwold.
Athel.
'Twas an inglorious Blow! but 'twas a welcome one!
[Supporting himself on his Sword.
Tis a kind Hand, that takes the only way
Thus to atone for what your unkind Heart
Has greatly wrong'd me in!—Oh! Royal Sir!
Forgive the Transport, Rage and injur'd Love
Plung'd my Allegiance in, when my bold Tongue
Blasphem'd the holy Head of Majesty!
My Wrongs I pardon; do you pardon yours,
And I shall look on Death as a kind Friend
Who draws a Curtain round my Bed of Sorrows!

King.
Nay, thou hast touch'd me now with deep Repentance!
And thy forgiving me a wrong so great,
Forbids me the forgiving it my self.
Oh! live, my Athelwold! that future Good
May recompence the mighty Ills I've done thee!
I have no Subject left, when thou art gone,
Who loves me more than Fortune! Thou art known!
Proofs after Proofs have spoke thee brave and honest!

Athel.
I had been honest, had not Love seduc'd me!

Enter Ordgar, his Sword drawn, with Ordelia.
Ordg.
Hell! what has bloody Fate been doing here!
Death has outstripp'd my haste! Oh! barb'rous King!
Does not thy Conscience—

Athel.
Ordgar!—by our Love,
I charge thee say no more! Let Duty bind thee!
The pitying King has griev'd thy Friend's Misfortune!

Ord.
Oh! Death! come, take me from these Scenes of Woe!
The Lady faints; support her all! and bear her
Where Art and Care may raise her sinking Soul!

Ordg.
Oh! touch her gently, as you wou'd your Eye-balls!
What shall I do? Pity and Love divide me!
Oh! Friend! oh! Athelwold! when thou art dead,
Who can tast Joys in Life, or Life in Joy?
Thou dear Companion of my Youth and Manhood!
Thou Bosom-balm of Peace! Thou Soul of Friendship!
Say, to what Hand, what Chance owe we thy Loss?

Athel.
Ask me not what I have no Breath to answer.
Come closer, Ordgar! let me lean upon thee!
For I feel Death, cold Death! in Icy Sweats
Creep o'er my stiff'ning Joints, and drag me downward!

King.
Let me join with you in this latest Proof
Of pious Friendship!—Oh! lov'd Athelwold!
[They support him.
Wilt thou not once more say that thou forgiv'st me?
Speak, if the Tyrant Death yet leaves thee Pow'r,
Speak That once more, and bless me!

Athel,
Oh! I do!
May you live happy ever!—Fatal Love!
Oh! Ordgar, let my sad Example teach thee
Not to make Love thy Plea for Guilt! for Love
Has made my Fall thus guilty, and thus wretched!
I feel my Breath grow shorter, and my Sinews,
Like unbent Bows, have lost the Force of Nature.
Let me lie low—low as my Love has cast me!
[Sinking.
So! now my humble Posture suits my Fate!
Now, Ordgar, join thy manly Breast to mine,
And kiss me closely with the Lips of Love,
That I may breath my dying Friendship through thee!
Thou wilt sometimes remember Athelwold,
Wilt thou not, Ordgar?

Ordg.
How can I forget thee
In whom alone I live?—Oh! Friend! permit me
Thus to embrace thee in thy low Condition!
My Friend! my dying Friend!—oh! may thy Fate
In the uncertainty of that dark World
Upon whose Brink thou standest, be more bless'd
Than thy unhappy Love has made it here!
Pardon the Woman's Tears I shed upon thee!
For, oh! who wou'd not weep for such a Friend?

King.
What sight of Woe cou'd ever equal this!

Athel.
Farewel! and—if Ordelia shall be thine,
Bid her—remember Elfrid—Elfrid—oh!

[Dies.
Ordg.
[Rising.]
Angels receive thy dear departing Spirit!
There lies the vertuous World's Epitome!
All that was great and good is gone with thee!

King.
A Loss, like this, claims more than loud Complaint,
And I, who have most Cause, shall feel most Grief,
I, the chief Mourner at his Funeral,
Will see that glorious Obsequies express
The Subjects Merit, and the Sov'reign's Sorrow;
Each future Year, to expiate my past Crime,
I will endow some Seat of pure Religion,
Where fervent Pray'rs from Choirs of holy Men
Shall join with mine for Mercy on my Sin.
And what his living Merits wou'd have claim'd,
Shall upon you and your Ordelia's Head
Be doubly showr'd by me—Be you the Heirs
To Athelwold's high Titles, as his Vertues.
And oh! may this Example serve to prove,
He treads on dang'rous Ground, who walks on Love.