University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Avilda, Asmond.
Asmond.
Daughter of Canute,
These lonely glooms are melancholy's empire,
Cherish it's saddening influence in the heart,
And feed the fires of love—Let thy attention
No more in Fancy's airy regions stray;
I bring thee tidings better to employ it.

Avilda.
Is Lother then return'd? and dost thou bring me
Hopes of Berino's safety?

Asmond.
Doubt not that;
Tho' Lother yet returns not—From the camp
Of Valdemar a haughty herald came,
Fraught with high menaces, and vain contempt
Of Denmark's valiant sons; such terms he brought,
As our brave father with disdain rejected;
And when he heard the insolent demand
Not of the noble fugitives alone,
But of a tribute from his own lov'd realm,
His aged arm with rage shook, and his eye
Sparkled with honest vengeance. The proud herald
There read his answer, and retir'd.

Avilda.
'Twas well
Methinks, the woman's tenderness gives way
To nobler sentiments; those terms of insult
Have rous'd me from the weak captivity
Of idle fear and love; my Father's spirit
Resumes it's long lost empire in my breast,
And I have now no other feelings there
But for his honour and for Denmark's safety.

Asmond.
There in his daughter spoke Canute, and there
What was Avilda—Princess, still preserve
That higher tone of mind; nor, 'midst our dangers,
Sink into weakness: many cares await me.
Adieu!