 | Ina |  |
9
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Edelfleda's Antichamber.Bertha, Elenor, &c.
BERTHA
(entering from the inner apartment).
The princess will not yet come forth. She thus
Will oft retire from gaiety and splendor
To sit and muse.
ELENOR.
She is much changed of late.
There was a time when she was always pleased.
She chid me yesterday, I know not wherefore.
The broider'd robe, I wrought with so much care,
She cast aside, and said it suited not
Her homely features.
BERTHA.
Homely features, said she?
The beauteous princess Edelfleda!
10
Yes.
She is but changed in mind, although she blame
Her outward form: she is no longer gentle.
Dost thou remember something of this humour,
When the orphan Lady Ina's charms erewhile
Arrested every eye and every heart
Of the gay court?
BERTHA.
Fie on thee, Elenor;
Thou would'st not tax thy mistress with base envy?
ELENOR
(archly).
Not so—but when the Lady Ina was forbid
The royal presence, our fair Edelfleda
Shone forth more radiant; as the glorious sun
Himself is wont, when the o'ershadowing cloud
Is wafted by the angry winds away.
BERTHA.
The king of Mercia's daughter, so adorn'd
With every gift of royal excellence,
Were rather deem'd the sun that shed a radiance
O'er the slight vapour sporting in his beams.
ELENOR.
Nay, you are angry now; but 'tis well known
How much Prince Egbert loved the Lady Ina.
BERTHA.
Silence, imprudent girl! At such an hour,
11
If she should hear thee speak the hated name—
ELENOR.
I will be silent. But even thou hast own'd
The princess loved not her—I may not name.
Enter Edelfleda (they appear embarrassed).
EDELFLEDA.
Why start thus, Elenor, and blush to see me?
Wherefore dost thou look strange upon me, Bertha?
It seems my presence is to neither grateful.
Accurst the day I came to Wessex' court!
E'en my own women, Bertha, even thou
Wilt soon forsake me.
BERTHA.
How have I deserved
This keen reproach?
EDELFLEDA.
Go, leave us, Elenor!
[Exit Elenor.
Forgive my wayward temper, dearest Bertha;
And may'st thou never know the pang that forced
The peevish word which seem'd to chide thy love.
BERTHA.
Alas! my princess, double is the wrong
To own a pang, nor share it with thy Bertha.
12
(embarrassed).
What have I said? Oh! there are pangs that shun
All fellowship. Grief utters its complaint,
And finds a sweetness in its gushing tears;
But this!—
BERTHA.
Remorse alone speaks thus.
EDELFLEDA.
Remorse
Were his, more justly, who inflicts the ill.
Wrongs undeserved, and borne in silence, wake
No conscious blush. The weak complaint alone
(By pride disown'd) might crimson o'er my cheek.
BERTHA.
If breathed to me? To me, whose raptured ear
Drank the first half-form'd accents of thy tongue.
EDELFLEDA.
This hated court is Edelfleda's prison,
Not the gay scene of her famed beauty's triumph.
But Mercia's king, the valiant Ethelbald,
Will free his daughter, and avenge her wrongs!
Restore her to her country—to her honours—
To all restore her, save to happiness!
Neglected! scorn'd!
BERTHA.
By whom neglected, scorn'd?
13
(embarrassed).
The king!—his nobles!
BERTHA.
The king loves—honours thee;
Already, princess, holds thee as his daughter,
Whom a few days will make Prince Egbert's wife.
EDELFLEDA.
Prince Egbert's wife! Oh! never, never, Bertha.
Why hast thou touch'd that string?
BERTHA.
I thought no ill.
Came you not to this court betroth'd to him?
And gaily came, a joyful, willing bride.
Is not Prince Egbert knighthood's fairest flower?
EDELFLEDA.
Too sure, I came; gay, thoughtless, young, and free;
And, oh! too surely he is all thou say'st:
Nay, far beyond thy fancy's reach endow'd!
BERTHA.
Thy speech is still at variance with itself.
EDELFLEDA.
'Tis but the picture of the strife within.
BERTHA.
My child! these dreadful words of mystery
Fill all my soul with terror. I adjure thee,
By my long services, my faithful duty,
Speak thy full heart.
14
(after a conflict).
He loves me not, good Bertha.
Spare, spare a princess' pride, and guess the rest.
BERTHA.
Heaven shield thee! would'st thou say he loves another?
Nay, think it not: she has been long removed.
EDELFLEDA.
I named her not. Ha! then thou know'st it, Bertha!
Or hadst not glanced at her. Thou know'st it; speak,
Oh! tell me all; it is too late to hide it.
BERTHA.
Indeed I nothing know—believe me, nothing:
The idle rumours of an idle court—
Should they arrest our thoughts?
EDELFLEDA.
What idle rumours?
And am I then the jest o' the idle court?
Do they point at me as I pass, and say
'Tis she! 'tis the neglected Edelfleda!
BERTHA.
Be calm, my princess; see the holy Baldred:
You did yourself request his presence.
Enter Baldred.
EDELFLEDA
(resuming a dignified manner).
Father,
15
For sudden purposing to leave a court
Where I have long resided, while the duty
A daughter owes a father—
BALDRED.
Can it be
That Edelfleda leaves the court of Wessex,
When all the palace, all the city, hail
With gratulation her approaching nuptials?
EDELFLEDA
(haughtily).
Softly, good Baldred. Learn that Mercia's princess
Is not so lightly won, nor gives her hand
As to the careless boor the village maid,
Willing ere woo'd, or rudely woo'd at best.
BALDRED
(sarcastically).
Ill would the faltering phrase, the humble sigh,
Become the lip accustom'd to command!
Would'st thou Prince Egbert, he so graced by fortune,
Should bear himself as common lovers use?
EDELFLEDA.
I heed not how the prince may bear himself.
Go, Baldred; plead his cause in other ears,
Where it may more import. What may concern
My honour, is my sole, my proper care.
I claim no service of your courtesy,
Save to make known, e'en now, to royal Cenulph,
16
[Exeunt Edelfleda and Bertha.
BALDRED
(alone).
And is it so? And will she sacrifice
To pride, her passion for detested Egbert?
This may work mischief to the man I hate.
All kindly feelings from my breast I banish'd,
When, in disgust and bitterness of soul,
O'er my deep festering wounds I flung this garb.
It was for Egbert fortune slighted me!
Ere he had grasp'd a sword, I led the battle!
When lo! he comes a meteor in men's eyes—
Draws in his glittering train my soldiers' hearts—
I woo'd fair Ina, and was paid with scorn:
While Egbert—curses on him! fired alike—
Though now to hate be turn'd the love I bore her,
My bosom holds remembrance of the offence.
Enter an Attendant.
ATTENDANT.
The king demands your presence, holy father,
On matters of high import.
BALDRED.
I attend.
[Exeunt.
17
SCENE II.
Cenulph and Lords.CENULPH.
The times indeed do wear a fearful aspect.
You, noble Oswald, Mordred, Alwyn, Orgar,
Have shared my counsels with the holy Baldred;
We have most sure advices from our outposts
That Ethelbald has arm'd, but yet declares not
His hostile purpose; still in martial shows
Breathing his powers: as 'twere the boar enchaf'd,
That whets his hideous tusks, and wounds the soil,
Rooting up herb and flower.
OSWALD.
My gracious liege,
And can you doubt the purpose of proud Mercia?
Have not of late more frequent messengers
Sped with unwonted diligence 'twixt him
And his fair daughter? nay, who has not mark'd
The princess' alter'd mien—the quick succession
Of fierce conflicting passions on her brow?
The day is not yet fix'd that gives her hand
18
That thus the pledge of peace with Ethelbald
Should still on vain pretences be deferr'd.
CENULPH.
Oswald, thou pointest to my sorrow's source.
My friends, ye know Prince Egbert's ardent temper,
In childhood haply foster'd by indulgence.
ALWYN.
We do, my liege; but his impatient spirit
Is coupled with such warm, heart-winning frankness,
Such all-embracing kindness, it but seems
The larger bounty of more lib'ral nature.
MORDRED.
A father or a friend may see it thus,
But it is dangerous.—To this we owe,
(This spirit so impatient of control,)
That we are threaten'd by dread Ethelbald.
CENULPH.
We sheathed the sword, my friends, and Edelfleda
Came to our court—the pledge of mutual love
Betwixt two nations harass'd by long war.
Betroth'd to Egbert, all a mother's care,
From my good Editha, the princess shared.
The general sorrow, while my poor queen languish'd,
And her lamented death, forbade the nuptials.
Meantime—(Ah! woe to me that e'er I foster'd
19
The orphan daughter of brave Sigiswold—
OSWALD.
My liege, removed you not the lovely mischief?
Forbidding her the court and festive pageants?
CENULPH.
I did; and thought to quench love's idle flame,
By sending Egbert to command the force
Raised to repel the inroads on our borders.
Whether it be, that all on martial deeds
His soul intent, he spurn inglorious ease,
Or that his fancy still on Ina dwell,
The court he shuns, and its gay soft delights;
And late, when at the tournament, proclaim'd
In honour of the beauteous Edelfleda,
He bore the prize from all the knights of name,
Neglectful of the princess,—at her feet
He placed nor sword nor trophy,—but abrupt
Broke from the lists, unmindful and discourteous.
MORDRED.
Justly the haughty princess is offended.
Enter Baldred.
BALDRED.
My Liege, I come from Edelfleda's presence,
A messenger unwilling—to declare
20
Have seal'd the bond of union 'twixt the states,
To seek her father's court.
OSWALD.
My sovereign Lord!
The public weal at stake—
MORDRED.
Prevent her purpose—
Delay not, sire, to solemnize the nuptials.
CENULPH.
But she must first be soothed.—
OSWALD.
The prince alone
Can bend her proud neck to the gentle yoke
She would be woo'd to wear.—
CENULPH.
Retire, my friends,—
Alwyn, find thou my son. Thou know'st his haunts.
Command him to my presence in my closet.
I must be firm—my crown, my honour, all
Must be secured this day by his obedience.
I have too long been passive.—Mark me, Alwyn,
For thou dost hold, I know, the master key
That locks his inmost counsel; nay, with voice
Of soft persuasion, while thou seem'st to yield,
Dost bend his lofty spirit to thy reason:
21
It is the King who will confer with him.
Tell him he has too long abused the father.
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE III.
Ina's Bower.Egbert and Ina.
EGBERT.
Oh, yes! I was indeed to blame, my love.
Too much I yielded to the timid counsel
Of cautious Alwyn.
INA.
Thou wast not to blame.
Thy mother's fondness, and her sov'reign sway
O'er thy kind father's heart;—her care for me,
The orphan daughter of her earliest friend—
EGBERT.
And thy brave father, too, whose loyal breast
Received the dagger aim'd at Cenulph's life—
INA.
And at his feet expired!
22
Oh! these were hopes
And claims, that sanction'd well the confidence
With which I snatch'd thee to my beating bosom,
Call'd thee my wife! my dear, my honour'd wife!
And swore that thou should'st be ere long acknowledg'd
By Cenulph, his throne's heiress, and his daughter.
INA.
Thou could'st not then foresee that cruel death
Would rob us of the queen, and our best hopes.
EGBERT.
But that I did respect my father's sorrow,
I then had at his feet confess'd my fault—
Ha! said I fault to love such excellence?
INA
(starting).
Methought I heard approaching steps; each sound
Appals me, since I live a sad recluse,
With thoughts—tho' not of guilt—that shun the light.
EGBERT.
This is my worst reproach!—That virtue's self
Should be by me condemn'd to own the fears
Which only guilt should know.
Enter Alwyn.
INA.
It is kind Alwyn:
23
That dwells with too much pain on our lost hopes.
ALWYN.
Alas! I am the bearer of worse pain.
Ye have heard that Ethelbald has taken arms—
The offended princess past all hope estranged.—
The king, awaken'd by th' indignant lords,
And by the people's murmurs, which have reach'd
At length his careless ear, in angry mood,
Has sent me to command you to his presence,
To press,—I fear—with Edelfleda—
EGBERT.
Peace!
'Twere sacrilege to utter such a thought
As now hangs on thy lip.—
INA.
My much-lov'd lord!
Oh! hear good Alwyn: hear him patiently.—
Too long we fondly from our thoughts have driven
The frightful future in our present bliss.
EGBERT.
And would'st thou I should hear him bid me wed
With Edelfleda?—Cast thee from me?—thee!
By every holy tie my wedded wife!
ALWYN.
But by the laws, alas! and king, not sanction'd!
24
Can human laws o'ermaster the divine?
Tear from a mother's breast her infant joy,
And bid a father's heart not own his child?
Can a king's breath annul the thing that is?
INA.
Be calm, my Egbert! oh! it is not thus
By eager words of fruitless controversy
We can avert the ill, or find the means
To reconcile our duty and our love.
I will retire, and leave thee with our friend:
Yes, my loved lord! true friendship has more skill
To work our good than our self-blinded judgment.
It knows not passion—for it takes the soul
Out of the earthy mould where passion lurks,
To watch,—a guardian spirit,—o'er the weal
Of its true object: as the sun it shines
For others' good!—still giving, without thought
Of like return! so high! so pure! so bounteous!
Oh! I do think kind angels lend to friendship
Some touch of their divinity, to raise
Th' aspiring thought to heavenly harmony!
[Exit.
EGBERT
(gazing after her).
She is herself that heaven of harmony!
Oh! Alwyn! blest in Ina's love, thy friend
Is lost to life's low cares.
25
Too true, my prince;
In voluntary blindness thou hast pass'd
Thy thoughtless days of visionary bliss;
But I must rudely rouse thee from thy trance,
And bid thee look, with eye firm fix'd, e'en now
On all the fearful truth.
EGBERT.
Speak on.—I am calm.
ALWYN.
The king expects thee. He will press thy marriage
With Edelfleda.
EGBERT.
Alwyn, were I not
To Ina bound by ties so dear, so sacred—
Oh! no—I could not think of Edelfleda
But as a sister. Once to Mercia's court
I went a stripling, ere the feud arose
That sever'd us, and plunged the states in war.
In th' op'ning splendour of her awful beauty
I honoured her with boyish reverence.
ALWYN.
And woo'd the Mercian princess—yes, you woo'd her:
Whisper'd gay flatteries in her willing ear
At banquets, tournaments, and courtly revels.
26
Well, grant I did so—'twas a stripling's homage
At beauty's shrine: she was of riper years.
ALWYN.
Two summers more had but matured her charms,
And not impair'd. You woo'd her, in good sooth.
EGBERT.
Nay, why insist? I had not then seen Ina.
Who shall resist his fate?
ALWYN.
Resist his will,
More aptly had express'd your thought.
EGBERT.
My friend,
Thou wert not wont thus keenly to retort.
ALWYN.
Nor would I now, were not the ruin imminent,
And no redress save one. I crave your patience:
You have abused the princess, much abused.
EGBERT.
How shall I soothe her but at honour's price?
How speak, and not redouble my offence,
Disclosing all the truth?
ALWYN.
Thou'rt new to love,
If thou know'st not how lightly we believe
27
Will snatch e'en from a word, a look, a nothing,
A fearful hope of sweet returning kindness.
Avert her anger, you avert the sword
Upheaved by Ethelbald t' avenge his daughter.
EGBERT.
But said'st thou not, the king would urge the nuptials?
ALWYN.
Uncertain of thy love, the haughty princess
Will spurn the hand but offer'd as the pledge
Of union 'twixt the states.
EGBERT.
Oh! let me rather
Shun the wrong'd princess' presence, or declare
My wedded faith: I know not to dissemble.
ALWYN.
Yes; shut your eyes, and let the ruin come!
Nay, nay, my prince, hear me! The veteran bands,
Not yet dismiss'd by peace to their far homes,
On the fresh news that Ethelbald has arm'd,
Demand thee as their leader. I but ask,
That thou dissemble till the trumpet summon
To arms the late disbanded men of Wessex.
EGBERT.
And wherefore, friend?
ALWYN.
The chief who sways as thou
28
With angry Mercia, or repel his rage;
Best may avert, or over-awe the vengeance
At Ina aim'd. 'Tis for thy wife, thyself,
I plead, no less than for the state; and ask
But that thou play awhile the cautious part.
Be rul'd by me—conceal thy marriage still
A little space.
EGBERT.
I will: and bend my spirit
To cold occasion. Yes, for Ina's love
I will defile that singleness she prized.
Alwyn, I had mark'd the crooked ways of courts,
And in the arrogant dreams of boyhood, shaped
To myself a course of future glory
So proudly honest! but I find that he
Who would hold on the broad and open way,
Not once may swerve aside, howe'er allured.
ALWYN.
Your father waits—Come on, my friend.
EGBERT.
I come.
[Exeunt.
| Ina | |