University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Lena, Lother.
Lother.
Art thou the Queen of Norway?

Lena.
Chief of Denmark,
Whoe'er thou art, forego such vain enquiries,
And instantly withdraw—

Lother.
O yes, the same!
Dear, hapless woman, drop that fatal weapon.
And meet my first, my fond embrace—

Lena.
Rash youth,
Intruding stranger, hence—

Lother.
I am no stranger—
Embrace thy brother!

Lena.
[Letting fall the dagger.
Hah!

Lother.
The son of Asmond—

Lena.
O my torn heart! a brother! sure I know not
A sister's love, I cannot be a sister—
Yet, if thou art my brother, gentle youth,
Then I will weep for thee—

Lother.
O let me hold
A sister to my heart!

Lena.
Fond youth, forbear;
Embrace not misery—

Lother.
My lost, lov'd sister, welcome to my breast!

Lena.
Thou hast no sister; and I have no brother,
No father, and no friend—I stand alone
The property of woe, the hapless victim
Of cruel Fate and Folly—

Lother.
Cherish hope:
For by the holy verdure of this grave,
Where sleeps our tender mother, thou shalt be
My sister still—And thou, O parent, hear
This duteous vow—Mine eye shall never rest,
'Till vengeance reach the cause of each misfortune
That waits thy hapless daughter—

Lena.
Kind in vain!
Let us no longer stain with idle tears
These flowers that spring upon the honour'd dust
Of Denmark's Princess.

Lother.
Let me then conduct thee
To some less gloomy scene, where grief collects not
Fresh horrors from congenial shades and silence.

Lena.
Leave me, good Prince! these melancholy bounds,
These regions of forgetfulness and death
Are the fit walks of sorrow—Do not now
The cares of war await thee?

Lother.
But to see,
And to embrace a sister, never seen,
Never before embrac'd, I stole one moment
From the approaching battle—Valdemar
Already riots on revenge, and feeds
High dreams of victory, since Ostan fell
Beneath his single arm—Farewell my sister!
Fear not that vengeance shall repay his rapine,
Live and encourage hope—

[Takes up the dagger as he goes off.