University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

A Camp at a distance.
Enter Arthur on one side attended, Oswald on the other with attendants, and Guillamar. They meet and salute.
Arth.
Brave Oswald! We have met on friendlier terms,
Companions of a war, with common interest
Against the bordering Picts: but times are chang'd.

Osw.
And I am sorry that those times are chang'd:
For else we now might meet on terms as friendly.

Arth.
If so we meet not now, the fault's your own;
For you have wrong'd me much.

Osw.
Oh! you wou'd tell me,
I call'd more Saxons in, t'enlarge my bounds:
If those be wrongs, the war has well redress'd ye.

Arth.
Mistake me not, I count not war a wrong:
War is the trade of kings that fight for empire:
And better be a lion than a sheep.

Osw.
In what then have I wrong'd ye?

Arth.
In my love.

Osw.
Even love's an empire too: the noble soul,
Like kings, is covetous of single sway.

Arth.
I blame ye not for loving Emmeline:
But since the soul is free, and love is choice,
You should have made a conquest of her mind,
And not have forc'd her person by a rape.

Osw.
Whether by force, or stratagem, we gain,
Still gaining is our end, in war or love.
Her mind's the jewel in her body lock'd;
If I would gain the gem, and want the key,
It follows I must seize the cabinet:
But to secure your fear, her honour is untouch'd.

Arth.
Was honour ever safe in brutal hands?
So safe are lambs within the lion's paw;
Ungripp'd and play'd with till fierce hunger calls,
Then nature shews itself; the close-hid nails
Are stretch'd, and open, to the panting prey.
But if, indeed, you are so cold a lover—

Osw.
Not cold, but honourable.

Arth.
Then restore her:
That done, I shall believe you honourable.

Osw.
Think'st thou I will forgo a victor's right?

Arth.
Say rather, of an impious ravisher.
That castle, were it wall'd with adamant,
Can hide thy head but till to morrow's dawn.

Osw.
And ere to-morrow I may be a god,
If Emmeline be kind: but kind or cruel,
I tell thee, Arthur, but to see this day,
That heavenly face, tho' not to have her mine,
I would give up a hundred years of life,
And bid Fate cut to-morrow.

Arth.
It soon will come, and thou repent too late,
Which to prevent, I'll bribe thee to be honest.
Thy noble head, accustom'd to a crown,
Shall wear it still, nor shall thy hand forget
The scepter's use: from Medway's pleasing stream,
To Severn's roar, be thine;
In short, restore my love, and share my kingdom.

Osw.
Not tho' you spread my sway from Thames to Tiber:
Such gifts might bribe a king, but not a lover.

Arth.
Then pr'ythee give me back my kingly word
Pass'd for thy safe return; and let this hour,
In single combat, hand in hand, decide
The fate of empire and of Emmeline.

Osw.
Not that I fear do I decline this combat,
And not decline it neither, but defer:
When Emmeline has been my prize as long
As she was thine, I dare thee to the duel.

Arth.
I nam'd your utmost term of life; tomorrow.

Osw.
You are not fate.

Arth.
But fate is in this arm.
You might have made a merit of your theft.

Osw.
Ha! theft! Your guards can tell I stole her not.

Arth.
Had I been present—

Osw.
Had you been present, she had been mine more nobly.

Arth.
There lies your way.

Osw.
My way lies where I please.
Expect (for Osmond's magic cannot fail)
A long to-morrow, ere your arms prevail:
Or if I fall make room ye blest above,
For one who was undone, and dy'd for love.

[Exit Oswald and his party.
Arth.
There may be one black minute e'er tomorrow:
For who can tell, what power, and lust, and charms,
May do this night? To arms, with speed, to arms.

[Exeunt.