University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

The Palace.
Queen and Attendants.
Queen.
Are there no tidings of the princess, yet?

Wom.
No, madam, not the least.

Queen.
Nor of my son?

Wom.
Not any.

Queen.
That is strange!
Messenger in haste.
How now!—whence come you, with that deadly look
Of pale and breathless terror?

Mess.
From the battle.—
The King is captive to the arms of Rome,
With our two chiefs, Cingetorix and Cadwal.
All's done—all on the rout—and Britain flies,
Scatter'd, and driven along the field, like dust
Before the raging wind.

Queen.
That's somewhat worse
Than we did wish for.
[Dead march without.
Ha! what sound is that?
That, with an heart-alarming suddenness,
Brings death upon us?

Messenger enters.
2d Mess.
O, my royal mistress!—

Queen.
Speak, man—and yet—I dare not ask—

2d Mess.
Nor dare
Your wretched servant answer—O—your son—
Your Cloten is—

Queen.
Dead?—Oh—

[Faints.
Wom.
Help, here, support—
Her fit is strong upon her—

Queen.
What have ye waked me to!—O horror, horror!
This was not among all my dreams—And, had I,
Had I no friend, in Heaven, or hell, to snatch
From ruin that yet wants a name?—What's here?
[A Bier carried across the Stage, with Soldiers attending.
A bier!—Ah—tell me not my child is there—
Or I will give a curse shall blast the world,
And root existence up—Fates!—hostile powers!—
Slaves, cowards, who forsook him—thus I spread
Destruction, death, among ye all!—

[Draws a dagger.
Sold.
Shift—fly!
Fly from her fury, all!

[Exeunt, the Queen pursuing and striking at them.