University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Edwin and Waltheof.
Edwin.
Lord Waltheof, if thou hast not yet disclos'd
The royal youth, forbear, I do revoke
The word I gave thee.—

Waltheof.
Why, on what pretence?

Edwin.
Edgar commands it; he disclaims ambition
And will not wed Matilda.

Waltheof.
Will not wed?
Edgar, the most forlorn lost thing on earth,
Not wed Matilda? Strengthen my belief,
Some wonder-working power! It cannot be.

Edwin.
By heav'n that knows my heart, I have assail'd him
With words, tears, menaces, entreaties, pray'rs;
But all all fruitless: he is fixt.

Waltheof.
For shame!
Some little grov'ling passion lurks about him,
Some vulgar village wench, whose ruddy health
And rustic manners fit his narrow soul,
And kindle something he mistakes for love.

Edwin.
Restrain yourself, my lord, your rage transports you,
And yet to show I scorn a mean disguise,
I own, in bitterness of soul I own it,
Your charge in part is true; there is a maid,
But not of low degree, whom Edgar loves,
Fatally loves, but not of rustic manners
Or name ignoble.

Waltheof.
Whosoe'er she be,
Evil betide her beauty! she hath poison'd
The dearest hopes of a most blessed creature;
Accursed as she is, she hath undone
The happiness of one, with whom compar'd
She were an æthiop.

Edwin.
Peace, unholy railer;
You know not whom you curse—she is my sister.

Waltheof.
Thy sister! Ah, is this well done, my lord?
Thus am I us'd? thus like your basest lacquey,
Call'd and recall'd and fool'd at pleasure? death!
I stand for Harold; him I serve; if Edgar
Fondly prefers thy sister to the crown
Of England and Matilda, be it so;
Let Edgar so declare it to the king,
I shall fulfil my promise.

Edwin.
How, betrayer!
You pass no more this way but thro' my guard.
You stand for Harold, you; for Justice I,
(Draws his sword.
For suffering innocence, for truth and Edgar.

Waltheof.
No more; put up your sword; the king advances:
Thus to be found were death to both.

(Exit.
Edwin.
Away!
It is my cause that conquers, not my sword.

(Exit.
The King enters follow'd by Edgar.
King.
Now if indeed thou art that loving friend
Of Edgar Atheling, which fame reports thee,
Lend me thy patient ear. Thou'rt not to learn,
How, when his grandsire good king Edmund died,
Our English nobles put him from his right;
And me a subject born, earl Goodwyn's son,
Call'd to the vacant throne; so call'd, of force
Obey'd I them, and by a king's best title,
My subjects free election, took the crown.

Edgar.
And took you peace withal and fair content
And conscious rectitude? You took the crown!
So would not I, tho' it had brought dominion
Wide as the world. Have you sweet sleep at nights?
Do no ill-omen'd visions haunt your couch,
And smile the eyelids of the morn upon you,
When you salute the light?

King.
Urge me no further:
I see thou'rt noble, and that manly plainness,
Which some wou'd shrink from, knits me closer to thee:
Nay I will own thou hast call'd up a thought,
Which like unweildy armour weighs me down.
I do perceive shame and remorse are handmaids,
That wait on guilt, as darkness on the night.

Edgar.
Methinks there needs no oracle for this;
To tell me man is cruel, false, ambitious,
Full of gross appetency and unjust,
Is to say man is man, a general truth,
To which your meanest centinel shall witness
As amply as myself: call in your camp,
Our conference needs no privacy; you say
Heaven goads the guilty breast, and well you say,
For goad it shall, or heav'n must not be heaven.

King.
Give me thy patience: what thou yet hast heard,
Think but the prelude to more weighty matter.
I have a daughter—need I call her fair,
Virtuous and full of grace?—my realm's sole heiress:
Her, in respect of his descended right,
Tho' fortune-wreckt and bankrupt ev'n in hope,
Edgar shall wed.

Edgar.
Shall wed?

King.
Hah! dost thou pause?

Edgar.
No, if affection moves at thy command,
And love must follow where ambition points,
Edgar shall wed Matilda.

King.
This to me?

Edgar.
But if love owns no law but of the heart;
And if perchance some humbler maid hath drawn
Such vows from Edgar's lips, as honour frames
And fond believing innocence admits,
Then—

King.
What then?

Edgar.
Not upon the peopled earth,
No, nor above the clouds resides that power,
Can wrench the conscious witness from his heart,
And say to Edgar he shall wed Matilda.

King.
What, shall a needy outlaw talk of love?
A beggar plead affections and reject
Her, to whom Europe's kings have knelt in vain?

Edgar.
Yes, for since beggars have aspir'd to crowns,
Kings have declin'd to beggars.

King.
Hence, audacious,
Nor feign for Edgar, what were Edgar present
And known he dare not for his life avow.

Edgar.
Know then 'tis Edgar speaks, 'tis Atheling
Rejects your offer'd terms, with scorn rejects them.

King.
Thou Edgar!

Edgar.
I am Edgar.

King.
Guards! arrest him.
(Guards advance.
Yet stay; a moment's pause: Let me be calm;
Collect thy scatter'd thoughts; we yet are friends.

Edgar.
No, when I league with guilt and yield to fear
What honour shou'd withhold, heav'n shall meet hell,
Things the most fierce and opposite in nature
Shall start from their extremes and band together.
Fly to thy guards, defenceless and embay'd,
With only truth and justice on my side,
Both naked, both unarm'd, I do defy thee.

King.
Dost thou defy me? take back thy defiance,
With death to better it.

(As Harold is giving the signal to the guard for arresting Edgar, Matilda enters hastily.
Matilda.
Health to my father!
Why dart thine eyes such angry lightnings forth?
Why stand these guards like hounds upon the slip?
Is this their victim? ah! can he offend?
Never look'd guilt like him; he errs perhaps
And with too bold a speech affronts the ear
Of majesty; a stranger is not bound
To all a subject's forms: Let me prevail;
Send him aside and hear thy daughter speak.

King.
My daughter shall be heard; is there a thing
I ever yet denied thee? Lead him off,
And wait our pleasure.—Hah! that look hath language.
(As the guard lead off Edgar, Matilda looks tenderly at him.
Matilda, know'st thou him thou dost survey
With such fond scrutiny?

Matilda.
You bade me know him,
Protect and cherish; by his youthful graces
Conquer'd yourself, you turn'd them upon me:
And now what cause alas! provokes this change?

King.
Thou art the cause; 'tis for thy sake he dies.

Matilda.
Die for my sake? Not if his death cou'd add
Myriads of years to my extended life,
And every year bring myriads of delights.

King.
These are empassion'd words: Alas, my child,
If thou dost love this youth—

Matilda.
Thou wilt destroy him;
It is the savage policy of kings.

King.
Thou lov'st him then—confess.

Matilda.
To desperation,
To death.

King.
Then heaven cannot afflict thee deeper.

Matilda.
I know it, but your daughter, Sir, can die:
I speak for nature; mine is not a heart,
That can transfer affection; tear him hence,
You tear life too, there is no room for Edgar.

King.
Say'st thou for Edgar? He, that youth is Edgar.

Matilda.
Harold catches her, as she is falling, in his arms. After a pause she proceeds.
Save me, support me!—O my much-lov'd father,
If he, that youth be Edgar, wou'dst thou kill
Him that shall be my husband.

King.
What but killing
Merits that monster, who rejects Matilda?

Matilda.
Rejects Matilda? Am I then rejected?
Oh that some friend had plung'd a dagger here,
Ere I had met this moment!

King.
Nay, be patient.

Matilda.
Let me behold him and I will be patient.
Was thine ear faithful? did no wrongs provoke him?
I found thee high in wrath, he too was angry,
He was, he was and spake he knew not what.

King.
Grant heav'n he did! I am no practis'd suitor,
And undeserv'd misfortune makes men proud.
Hoa, guards!—produce the youth you have in charge.
May he who arm'd thine eyes, inspire thy lips!
See where he comes—
(Exit King.

Edgar
enters guarded.
Prince, (so I now must call you)
If, while it pleas'd you to assume the name
And simple stile of a plain Scottish knight,
Friendship for Edmund caus'd me to omit
What Edgar's high pretensions might have claim'd,
I shall expect your pardon.

Edgar.
Take my thanks,
For they are much thy due.

Matilda.
Nay I am told
You are too proud to be Matilda's debtor,
Crowns, by her hand presented, you reject
And scorn the encumber'd boon: Vindictive Edgar,
Is it your sport to steal away our hearts,
Like heathen Jove, beneath a borrow'd form,
Then reassume the god, ascend your skies,
And leave the slighted maid to die with weeping?

Edgar.
What shall I say? that I disclaim ambition?
That long estrang'd and exil'd from my realm,
My heart forgets its home and draws no sighs,
Which point to England and my native right?
Or with an eye of cold philosophy
Shall I affect to view that radiant form,
And not confess its charms? I feel their power,
But cannot give that heart which is another's.

Matilda.
Another's! where, in what proud realm is found
She, from whose sight diminish'd rivals shrink,
And leave the choice of all mankind to her?

Edgar.
In rural silence dwells the maid I love,
With her in some lone corner of your isle,
Far from ambition's walk, let me reside,
Nor shake the quiet of Matilda's soul.

Matilda.
Sure of all forms, which cruelty assumes,
Humility can most insult mankind:
Away, nor cheat me with these fairy scenes;
There is no beauty in our isle for Edgar,
No soft sequester'd maid, no truth, no love,
Save what this fond rejected heart contains.

Edgar.
Thus urg'd, 'twere meanness to withhold the truth:
In Hackley's shades a Sylvan goddess holds
Her lonely haunts; Edwina is her name;
Earl Edwin's sister—

Matilda.
Take her, and be still
That abject thing thou art; take Edwin's sister,
A subject beauty fits a subject's choice.
Go to my father, tell him thou hast pierc'd
His daughter's heart, and give him stab for stab:
Away, away! thou hast thy full revenge.

Edgar.
Revenge! my heart disclaims it: O Matilda!
My prayers—I can no more—farewel for ever!

(Exit.
As Edgar is parting from Matilda, Edwina enters.
Edwina.
'Tis Edgar!—Hah, he parts and sees me not.

Matilda.
Stay, Athelina, turn, beloved maid,
Turn from that monster thine abhorrent eyes;
Approach and save me!

Edwina.
What afflicts Matilda?

Matilda.
And is there need of words? break, break, my heart!
Open thou prison-house of the soul, dissolve
And give a wretched captive it's release!

Edwina.
Be calm.

Matilda.
As death. Why look'd you on that youth?

Edwina.
O look'd not on his face.

Matilda.
Ah if thou had'st,
If thou had'st look'd, thou woud'st have lov'd like me,
And like me been a wretch.

Edwina.
Alas, I pity thee.

Matilda.
Then thou hast lov'd, for love will teach thee pity.
Coud'st thou believe it, he, (O heaven!) that Edmund,
Whose very name's a lye; that Edgar Atheling
For Edwin's sister slights, rejects Matilda;
A princess for a clown; me for Edwina.
Strike her smooth form all o'er with lep'rous blanes,
Ye sprites, whom magic incantations charm!
Shake her with palsied ugliness, ye demons,
And so present her to her lover's arms
To kill him with the touch.—O Athelina,
If thou dost love me join and aid the curse!

Edwina.
Shall I curse her,who never hath offended?

Matilda.
Turn then on him thy deepest direst curse;
Call up the damn'd, and darken heav'n with spells,

Edwina.
Mercy forbid!

Matilda.
No mercy, but revenge:
Give me revenge. He dies.

Edwina.
Ah take my life:
Lo, at thy feet a wretched virgin kneels
And prays for mercy.

Matilda.
Hence! you'll anger me.

Edwina.
I wou'd I cou'd: Turn thy revenge on me;
But spare my Edgar's life.

Matilda.
Thy Edgar say'st thou?
Who and what art thou? Speak.

Edwina.
I am Edwina.

Matilda.
What do I hear? thou art—

Edwina.

Matilda.
Peace, deciever:
Thy prayers are vain; he dies this moment.—

(She is going.
Edwina.
Stay!
Tho' not in pity, yet in honour hear me:
I ask no mercy; prayers indeed are vain;
Edwina pleads not ev'n for Edgar's life:
For if when I, the fatal cause of all,
Lye at thy feet a bloody breathless corse,
Thy rage shou'd still demand his guiltless life,
Who shall oppose it? All that I shall do,
All that I can, is thus—to die for Edgar.

(Offers to kill herself, but is prevented by Matilda.
Matilda.
Stop thy rash hand; thou shalt not die: This courage
Dazzles my rage; I stiffen with surprise;
Thy presence, like the fascinating eye
Of the fixt basilisk, takes motion from me
And roots me in the earth—

Edwina.
What shall I say?
I own thee wretched and myself the cause:
But do not let remorseless fury rend
The god from out thine heart, which nature's hand
Set up, as in a shrine of human kindness,
That misery like mine might find a shelter.

Matilda.
No more; I once had pity; the poor bird,
Which kills herself to feed her gaping brood,
Was not more pitiful; but it is past;
The wolf hath slain the lamb; bloody revenge
Hath thrust out all remorse—I must have vengeance.

Edwina.
Take it; 'tis in thine hand—Take full revenge:
Thou hast a dagger, strike to Edgar's heart;
Lay his lov'd form a breathless corse before thee,
And sate thy thirst for vengeance—Hah! 'tis past—
Heaven opens in thine eyes.

Matilda.
'Tis in my heart:
I feel its breath, like dew, descend upon me;
Amidst the whirl of passion Mercy sits,
And whispers patience in a voice so charming,
To hear is to obey—Thy Edgar lives.

Edwina.
Lives he? May angels waft the word to heaven,
And bring a blessing thence!

Matilda.
Stay not to thank me,
Bear from my sight that too-engaging form:
Leave me to my afflictions, they'll stay with me,
And be my close companions—Fare thee well!

Edwina.
Farewel, thou suffering virtue! Oh, remember,
Remember Edgar—
(Exit Edwina.

Matilda.
Whither was I sinking,
When this bright deed restor'd me? So the wretch
With felon steps, on murderous act intent,
Steals on the sleeping night; when if at once
Launch'd from sulphureous clouds the vollied fires
Quick-glancing burst upon his ruffian head
With dazzling bright suffusion, horror-seiz'd,
Trembling, aghast he starts, lets fall the knife
Ev'n at the victim's throat and flies—as I do.

(Exeunt severally.