University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

A camp.
Enter Osmond, as affrighted.
Osm.
Grimbald made prisoner, and my grove destroy'd!
Now what can save me—Hark, the drums and trumpets!
[Drums and trumpets within.
Arthur is marching onward to the fort.
I have but one recourse, and that's to Oswald;
But will he fight for me, whom I have injur'd?
No, not for me, but for himself he must;
I'll urge him with the last necessity:
Better give up my mistress than my life.
His force is much unequal to his rival;
True;—but I'll help him with my utmost art,
And try t'unravel fate.
[Exit Osmond.

Enter Arthur, Conon, Aurelius, Albanact, and soldiers.
Con.
Now there remains but this one labour more;
And if we have the hearts of true-born Britons,
The forcing of that castle crowns the day.

Aur.
The works are weak, the garrison but thin,
Dispirited with frequent overthrows,
Already wavering on their ill-mann'd walls.

Alb.
They shift their places oft, and skulk from war,
Sure signs of pale despair and easy rout;
It shews they place their confidence in magick,
And when their devils fail, their hearts are dead.

Arth.
Then, where you see 'em clust'ring most, in motion,
And staggering in their ranks, there press 'em home;
For that's a coward's heap—How's this, a sally?
Enter Oswald, Guillamar, and soldiers on the other side.
Beyond my hopes to meet 'em on the square.

Osw.
Brave Britons, hold; and thou their famous chief,
[Advancing.
Attend what Saxon Oswald will propose.
He owns your victory; but whether owing
To valour, or to fortune, that he doubts.
If Arthur dares ascribe it to the first,
And singled from a croud, will tempt a conquest,
This Oswald offers; let our troops retire,
And hand to hand let us decide our strife:
This if refus'd, bear witness earth and heav'n,
Thou steal'st a crown and mistress undeserv'd.

Arth.
I'll not usurp thy title of a robber,
Nor will upbraid thee, that before I proffer'd
This single combat, which thou did'st avoid;
So glad I am, on any terms to meet thee,
And not discourage thy repenting shame.
As once Æneas, my fam'd ancestor,
Betwixt the Trojan and Rutilian bands,
Fought for a crown, and bright Lavinia's bed;
So will I meet thee, hand to hand oppos'd:
My auguring mind assures the same success.
[To his men.]
Hence out of view; if I am slain or yield,
Renounce me, Britons, for a recreant knight;
And let the Saxon peacefully enjoy
His former footing in our famous isle.
To ratify these terms, I swear—

Osw.
You need not;
Your honour is of force, without your oath.
I only add, that if I fall, or yield,
Your's be the crown, and Emmeline.

Arth.
That's two crowns.
No more; we keep the looking heav'n and sun
Too long in expectation of our arms.

[Both armies go off the stage.
Arthur and Oswald fight. Oswald retreats. Enter Osmond from among the trees, and with his wand strikes Arthur's sword out of his hand, and exit. Oswald pursues Arthur. Merlin enters, and gives Arthur his sword, and exit. They close, and Arthur in the fall disarms Oswald.
Arth.
Confess thyself o'ercome, and ask thy life.

Osw.
'Tis not worth asking, when 'tis in thy power.

Arth.
Then take it as my gift.

Osw.
A wretched gift,
With loss of empire, liberty, and love.
[A concert of trumpets within, proclaiming Arthur's victory; while they sound, Arthur and Oswald seem to confer.
'Tis too much bounty to a vanquish'd foe;
Yet not enough to make me fortunate.

Arth.
Thy life, thy liberty, thy honour safe,
Lead back thy Saxons to their ancient Elb:
I wou'd restore thee fruitful Kent, the gift
Of Vortigern for Hengist's ill-bought aid,
But that my Britons brook no foreign power,
To lord it in a land, sacred to freedom,
And of its rights tenacious to the last.

Osw.
Nor more than thou hast offer'd wou'd I take;
I would refuse all Britain held in homage;
And own no other masters but the gods.

Enter on one side, Merlin, Emmeline, and Matilda, Conon, Aurelius, Albanact, with British soldiers, bearing King Arthur's standard displayed. On the other side, Guillamar, and Osmond, with Saxon soldiers, dragging their colours on the ground.
[Arth. going to Emme. and embracing her.
Arth.
At length, at length, I have thee in my arms;
Tho' our malevolent stars have struggled hard,
And held us long asunder.

Em.
We are so fitted for each other's hearts,
That heav'n had erred, in making of a third,
To get betwixt, and intercept our loves.

Osw.
Were there but this, this only sight to see,
The price of Britain should not buy my stay.

Mer.
Take hence that monster of ingratitude,
Him who betray'd his master, bear him hence;
And in that loathsome dungeon plunge him deep,
Where he plung'd noble Oswald.

Osm.
That indeed is fittest for me,
For there I shall be near my kindred fiends,
And spare my Grimbald's pains to bear me to 'em.

[Is carried off.
Mer.
[to Arth.]
For this day's palm, and for thy former acts,
Thy Britain freed, and foreign force expell'd,
Thou, Arthur, hast acquir'd a future fame,
And of three Christian worthies, art the first:
And now at once to treat thy sight and soul,
Beheld what rolling ages shall produce:
The wealth, the loves, the glories, of our isle,
Which yet, like golden ore, unripe in beds,
Expect the warm indulgency of heav'n
To call 'em forth to light—
Nor thou, brave Saxon prince, [to Oswald]
disdain our triumph:
Britons and Saxons shall be once one people;
One common tongue, one common faith, shall bind
Our jarring bands, in a perpetual peace.

Merlin waves his wand; the scene changes, and discovers the British ocean in a storm. Ælous in a cloud above.
Mer.
These who next enter are our valiant Britons,
Who shall by sea and land repel our foes,
[A march, while the British sailors and grenadiers come to the front of the stage.
Now look above, and in heav'n's high abyss,
Behold what fame attends those future heroes.
Honour who leads them to that steepy height,
In her immortal song, shall tell the rest.

[The order of the Garter descends.
[A dance of British sailors.]
Arth.
[to Merl.]
Wisely you have, whate'er will please, reveal'd;
What would displease, as wisely have conceal'd:
Triumphs of war and peace, at full ye show,
But swiftly turn the pages of our woe.
Rest we contented with our present state;
'Tis anxious to enquire of future fate.
That race of heroes is enough alone
For all unseen disasters to atone.
Let us make haste betimes to reap our share,
And not resign them all the praise of war.
But set th'example; and their souls inflame,
To copy out their great forefathers fame.