University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

An Assembly of Barons.
Vor.
To you have been explained our late dispatches,
Say, did we not invite these Princes home,
And tender them the crown? Yet we do find
They come with foreign aid and civil war,
To bear the sway and empire over us:
Can any present say why this shou'd be?

1st. Bar.
No! they're the sons of our late King, 'tis true,
As such, the elder doth by right inherit
The crown and kingdom, and in their defence,
Our lives, yea, and our very best heart's blood
Were truly offer'd, which we now revoke.
And since they tear the bowels of our land,
And come with blood and naked sword to court us,
We'll to the field, and when bright victory
Hath with the sacred laurel bound our brows,
The Princes' heads in triumph shall be borne
Throughout our ranks; rebellion's just reward!

2nd. Bar.
Then are they traitors to their God and country.

3d. Bar.
And as the crown is now untenanted,
'Tis fit the most deserving brow shou'd wear it.

1st. Bar.
If any one there be that doth deserve it,
'Tis he that hath it even now in trust.

All.
Then be it his!

1st. Bar.
Girt tight the drum, and sound yon brazen trumpet,
Let it proclaim aloud, our firm decree:
Aurelius and his brother both are traitors,
And 'gainst their mother country do rebel.

[Trumpet sounds.
2nd. Bar.
Nay, stop not there; but let them bellow on,
'Till with their clamorous noise they shame the thunder,
And o'er the earth, and e'en to heaven proclaim,
Vortigern our King! our lawful sov'reign.

Vor.
The exigencies of the state demand
My quick consent, I therefore give it you.
And when the crown shall on my front be bound,
My faithful soul shall prize the sacred trust,
My arm be nerv'd to fight in its defence.

Barons.
All hail great Vortigern Britain King!

[Trumpet sounds.
Vor.
My lords, vain compliment would suit but ill
The present time, I therefore briefly thank you:
But ere we part I fain would crave your hearing.
Our troops have now been long disus'd to war,
Yet do not think I mean their fame to tarnish,
Or on a Briton throw the damned slur
Of shameful cowardice, no, my good lords!
But though their ribs do serve as castle walls,
And fast imprison their strong lion hearts,
Yet e'en the lion, when full gorg'd with food,
Will bask, and tamely lay him down to sleep;
Then in such sort, hath undisturbed peace,
And want of custom, (nature's substitute,
That changes e'en our very properties)
Soften'd their manhood. Then 'twere policy
That we should court the Saxons to our aid.
This too will in our Britons raise the flame
Of bright and generous emulation.
Say, lords! doth this my proposition please you?

1st. Bar.
We do approve, and thank its noble author.

Vor.
You, my good lord, then do I here depute,
Jointly with Catagrine our second born,
That you with speed repair to Saxony;
Our eldest shall at home command the Britons,
Time needs your haste, therefore use no delay,
Your country calls, so look you quick obey.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A distant View of the Sea.
Enter Aurelius and Uter, (with the Scottish army) as just disembarked, habited as Britons.
Aur.
O dearest soil, blest mother earth, hail to thee!
Fain wou'd my feet play wanton on thy breast,
And skip with joy to tread thee once again.
'Tis not to wound thee that I thus do come
In glitt'ring steel and dire array of war,
But as my right to claim thee for mine own.

Uter.
Brother, each lip for thee sends forth a blessing;
And with the smile that buds on ev'ry face,
Alike expands a ray of happiness.
Never did I before blame nature's work,
But now I fain wou'd quarrel with her hests,
For that in me, she caus'd a lack of years;
Else had these prayers, these blessings all been mine!
To have a crown and kingdom at command
Is but as dross; but thus to have them come,
Might from their airy beds the angels draw
To taste the joys of this our mortal earth.
Throughout the camp now all is hush'd in silence,
And Morpheus, with his leaden wings outspread,
Hath on each eyelid laid the weight of slumber.
[Exit Uter.

Aur.
Then, as the general, the task is mine
To thank that mighty God whose name alone
Doth carry awe, and strikes the soul with fear.
Here prostrate then I fall before thy face,
And, tho' unworthy of thy mercy, pray;—
If giant form doth more enlarge the mind,
Would that my front did with the mountains vie;
That so my heat amazed brain might work
Thoughts suiting more this vast immensity!
O most expanded, O most fertile mind!
When thou would'st copulate with thoughts like this,
Thou art mere nothingness; or when the lips
Do pour forth boisterous and high sounding words,
They back again to the poor mortal brain,
And scoff at thy presumption.
“O God! why shou'd I, a mere speck on earth,
“Tear thousands from their wives, children, and homes!
“O! wherefore from this transitory sleep,
“That now doth steal from them their inward cares,
“Should I send thousands to cold dreary death?
“'Tis true, I am a King, and what of that?
“Is not life dear to them, as 'tis to me?
“O! peasant, envy not the prince's lot;
“Thy page in life's great book is not foul charg'd,
“And like to ours besmear'd with dying breaths.
“O! had I lives myself enough to answer
“The ravenous and greedy jaws of death,
“That will on these my friends, my soldiers,
“Such havoc make, and wanton gluttony!
“Father of mercy, great God, spare this blood!
“And if I must alone receive the crown,
“Bedeck'd with purple gore, I here resign it.”

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Gates of London.
Enter Catagrinus, Hengist and Horsus, with Saxon Troops, in grand Procession.
Cata.
Here let us halt, and let the trumpet sound,

[Trumpet sounds, Officer appears on the walls.
Off.
Say, be ye friends or foes?

Cata.
My father sent us hence to Saxony;
Go, say our embassy is now fulfill'd;
[Trumpet sounds.
Yet soft, that sound proclaims his quick approach.

Heng.
Throughout the ranks let each man be prepar'd,
To hail our new ally, King Vortigern.

SCENE IV.

Gates open.
Vortigern appears in Robes of Majesty, followed by the Barons and British Troops.
Catagrinus kneels to Vortigern.
Vor.
Rise, my dear son! thou'rt welcome here again.
And you, brave Saxons, greet we to our land.

Heng.
We come, great sir, to fight in thy defence,
And from thy kingdom wipe away rebellion.

Vor.
Give me thy hand, brave General, and with it,
Exchange we mutually a soldier's faith.
Here let our British troops in friendship join,
And with the Saxons share our present joy.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The Country.
Enter Flavia, Pascentius, and Fool.
Pas.
Why sister thus shou'd grief usurp thy cheek?
O mingle not so much of lily die
With thy sweet rosy blood, thou'rt cold as death,
Pine not in silence thus!

Fla.
I'll sit me down and court sweet music's aid.
She sings.

Pas.
O! why sing thus? thou dost join woe to woe,
Thy grief methinks demands more cheering notes.

Fla.
Oh! brother, this strange frame that keeps in life,
Is almost sick and weary of its tenant.
Tho' short hath been its course, yet fickle fortune
Hath with it wanton made, and blown it
To and fro, a toy for this merc'less world.

Pas.
Listen, I pray thee now, to reason's voice;
Were it not strange, if thou alone shou'd'st 'scape
The numerous ills and buffets of the world?

Fool.
I'troth, thou hast wisely spoken.

Pas.
Dost think so, my good Fool?

Fool.

Marry, aye, do I; an I'll tell thee why,
thy speech hath not wearied the Fool, therefore
'tis a wise speech.

Pas.

Thou'rt then a judge?

Fool.

Aye, and a righteous one too, dost mark
me, 'tis your Fool alone will make a true report.

Pas.

I understand thee not.

Fool.

The more's the pity. He that doth, or
well speak, or write, will be prais'd by fools
only, for look ye, envy doth sting those that have
knowledge, and makes them fear lest their wise
heads should be outwitted, therefore again, 'tis
your Fool alone that is your upright judge, cause
forsooth, his brains are not in plenty; but those
which he hath are at's own disposal.

Pas.
This road methinks shou'd lead us on our way
To the Prince's camp! Fool, go you on before.

[As they retire, enter Captain and Soldiers.
Capt.
Not quite so fast, good master, prithee halt.

Fla.
What, guards! O brother, now we are undone.

Pas.
Be calm, be calm, the troops are not my father's.
Wil't please you, sir, inform us whence ye came?

Capt.
From Scotland, sir.

Fla.
Then O good heav'ns protect me!

Pas.
And who is your commander?

Capt.
One whose merit
Outweighs whatever yet did breathe on earth;
If ye be Britons, as your looks bespeak,
Then shew your wonted quality of justice;
Did ye not 'fore the awful face of Heaven,
Proclaim Constantius as your lawful King,
When on his head was pour'd the sacred oil?

Pas.
But he is now no more.

Capt.
Yet hath he two sons living,
Whose souls, for purity, I can compare
Unto this bright unspotted canopy.

Pas.
Are ye bound towards the camp?

Capt.
We are, and if you're upright men and true,
Thither you'll follow, and there wield the sword
For justice, truth, and your anointed King.
Yet in this hallow'd cause we wou'd not force you,
But lead into the fold with gentleness,
Each sheep that may unknowingly have strayed,
And broke from out its bounds, and flowery pasture.

Pas.
Proceed then, and we'll follow; tell me, sister,
Doth not your heart beat high?

Fla.
Yea, it swells so, this little breast in truth.
Can scarce contain it.—
How shall we bear the meeting?

Fool.

I troth, merrily, merrily as I do; 'tis true
I am a Briton, but then am I not a Fool? And
ne'er will I put my folly to the test. Think'st
thou I'll risk my brains for mine anointed King?

Nay, nay, in this affair mine heels shall be my
guide, and quick teach me the way to run.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

A Chamber in the Palace.
Enter Edmunda, and Attendants.
Edm.
I will not to my chamber then I tell ye.

1st. Maid.
Beseech you madam to return again,
For so did your physician order—

Edm.
Come hither pretty maid, look at me well;
Now say, hath he so order'd it, or not?

1st. Maid.
Indeed he hath.

Edm.
Nay, get thee gone,—a maid, and still so false!
Go to, live I not yet? Am I then call'd?
And hath my sweet-heart death yet fondly clasp'd me;
Say! hath the heavy passing bell yet sounded,
And hail'd me to my snug and chilly chamber?

2nd Maid.
Madam, I fear your reason wanders.

Edm.
Aye, aye! I understand thee, it is flown;
My poor brain, alas! is sore distemper'd.
[Strikes her forehead.
Sweet, sweet, come from yon branch here's food for thee,
My pretty birds come back, I will not harm ye,
My bosom as your little nest is warm,
And is as soft, aye, and full of comfort too.
Nay stop! it is too warm, come not! 'twill burn ye.

2nd. Maid.
My tears do flow for her so plenteously,
That I have left in me no power to help her.

Edm.
O! you great Gods! why pelt ye thus my brain,
And with your thunders loud, cause such dire outrage
Within this little ball, this, O! this nothing!
Tell me high Heaven, is this your justice?
Did I not nourish them, aye, teach them, love them?
Yes, little drops, Oh! come, cool my poor face;
Speak! aye, ye come I know to say I did.
Now, please your highness, and what wou'd you more?
Say, are not here a host of witnesses?
Longer, O let me not detain the Court,
For in such plenty they do now rush forth,
That you, Sir, you who fill yon seat of justice,
Must throw away your gown and swim for life.

1st. Maid.
Will't please we lead you in?

Edm.
I'gin indeed to think I do need support,
For I am even weaker than a babe.
Hush! hush! come hither both, I'll tell ye something;
Now then your ears, I'm mad, ha! ha! ha!
Say! is not this Whitsuntide?

2nd. Maid.
Aye an't please you madam.

Edm.
Then listen.
She sings
How like you this?

1st. Maid.
Excellently well, madam.

Edm.
The time has been! when thus thou might'st have said,
What, must these poor eyes never see them more?
And have I need of these vile rags; off! off!
I'll follow thee to th'extreme point o'th'world,
And naked bear the icy mountains cold,
And the dread scorches o'that ball of fire
'Till I have found them i'the antipodes;
Shou'd I not meet them there, I will rail so!—
Pardon these starts! in troth I will not harm ye,
Indeed, indeed, I'm wrong'd! most sadly wrong'd!
Did these sweet notes then charm ye? then I'll die,
For look you, I will then sing sweeter far,
Than dying swan at ninety and nine years!
Lack, lack, a day! I'm faint! your arm sweet maid.
There is my gage, farewell; good night, sweet! good night!—

[Exeunt.