EDGAR, OR THE English Monarch; AN HEROIC TRAGEDY.  
By Mr. THOMAS RYMER, Servant to Their Majesties.  
The Second Edition.  
LONDON, Printed for james Knapton, at the Crown in St. Pauls-Church-yard, 1693.   

TO THE KING.  
GReat Sir, whose Throne amidst the Waters set,  
O'er all designed by God and Nature Great,  
Here, in that famed, long-wished, unheard-of Spot:  
Steadfast on which, planting Your Royal Foot,  
You turn the Other World, You give it Law,  
You Arbitrate, and all its Motions awe.  
This Honour was to England early paid;  
And thus Your great Forerunner, Edgar, swayed.  
Yet were his Ships a weak, though Numerous, Train:  
Silent they passed, mere Infants of the Main.  
Grown up, Yours speak, in not a Mortal Strain,  
Threaten, and loud above the Billows beat  
Your dread Commands, which trembling Rocks repeat.  
Whilst Edgar joyful, from his farthest Skies  
Looks down, and listens to the Godlike Voice.  
When Hercules with Jason left the Shoar,  
Pale Greece despaired to see her Worthies more:  
Charybdis gaped, and Scylla's Dogs did howl.  
Who this could bear, was then a daring Soul.  
All Monsters seemed in those Heroic days.  
Your Pleasure-boat with ruder Danger plays.  
If launched in that bold Age of Poetry,  
Each Ship of Yours had been a God o'th' Sea;  
Or Jove, his Form in this Disguise that shrowds:  
Who having left the Air, and easy Clouds,  
Below a rougher Element controls,  
And Thunder o'er more solid Water rolls.  
This made Divining Priests of old prefer  
The Oak, as sacred to the Thunderer;  
The Oak, of old, that in Dodona reigned.  
Now Oracles Your only Forests send,  
Which promise Seas and Empire without End.  
Grafted on these, the fairest Laurels grow,  
And Wreaths that best adorn an English Brow.  
This Naval Power made Edgar's chiefest Pride,  
(Four thousand Sail spread o'er the Ocean wide)  
Whence Terror on remotest Shores was thrown,  
When Halcyon-days and Plenty blessed his own.  
Thus, whilst Your Flags, waved high, for Homage call,  
And angry Nations let their Topsails fall;  
With Peace Your larger Empire happy made,  
Rests undisturbed, rejoicing in the Shade.  
High on His Throne, and filled with Royal Care,  
Thus— You alone, great Edgar's Person bear.  
Vnkinged, in Love, we represent him here.   

Advertisement.  
THIS I call an Heroic Tragedy, having in it chiefly sought occasions to extol the English Monarchy; and having writ it in that Verse which with Cowley, Denham, and Waller, I take to be most proper for Epic Poetry.  
The Tragedy ends Prosperously; a sort of Tragedy that rarely succeeds; man being apt to pity the Distressed, then to rejoice with the Prosperous. Yet this sort seems principally to have pleased Euripides; and is necessary here for the Design first above mentioned.  
I doubted, indeed, whether Rhyme was proper for Tragedy. Not that I thought it unnatural; for questionless, 'tis more natural to speak in Rhyme, then to speak English: this we owe to the Nurse, the former to the Poet. Nor can that be said unnatural, where Nature is helped and improved. But Rhyme is rather sweet, then grave; unless tempered with so must Thought, and with such Pomp of words, as suits not with that Sorrow and Lamentation which Tragedy ordinarily requires. And therefore, of the two, Rhyme is the more proper for this sort of Tragedy, which ends happily.  
The Histories examined, nothing in the Fable can seem Romantic or affected. But I must appeal from the late Epitomizers, who make Edgar point-blank guilty of Ethelwold's Death, without any sufficient ground from Antiquity.   

Persons Represented.  
Edgar, 
King of England.  Lewis the IU 
King of France, incognito.  Kenneth, 
King of Scotland.  Ethelwold, 
Edgar's Favourite.   
Editha, 
Sister to Edgar.  Gunilda, 
Sister to the King of Denmark.  Alfrid, 
The Duke of Cornwall's Daughter.  Ethelgede, 
Ethelwold's Daughter.  Dunstan, 
Archbishop of Canterbury.  A Secretary of State. 
 Ambassadors. 
 Two French Statesmen. 
 Guards, 
 Attendants. 
  
The time of the Representation, from Twelve at Noon to Ten at Night.   

EDGAR, A TRAGEDY.  

ACT I.  

SCENE I. Landschap of a River, Trees, Palace, etc.  Editha. Edith. 
PRincess! a Title boding misery;  
Cursed in the Sex, more cursed in the Degree!  
Our every Look makes an Affair of State,  
And every Sigh provokes a grave Debate.  
No popular Insurrections with such Care  
Inspected, as our rising Passions are.  
Love, like our breath, the Will's vain power defies;  
Sooner the heart, than its emotions, dies.  
Yet we Dissembling, with a faithless Frown,  
Meanly severe, our secret Care disown:  
Though still the Darling, which our Looks detest,  
(Only retired) lies panting in our breast.  
Unhappy Women— equally a prey,  
If swayed, or if our Inclinations sway!  
Either with Nature, we, down th' easy stream,  
By Flow'rie banks, to sure Destruction swim:  
Or against Wind and Tide Honour doth us draw  
To barren Rocks, there on lean Hopes to gnaw.  
These anxious thoughts, ah! whither shall I trace?  
I now too near the tender Secret press.  
I love the Stranger— this too well I know,  
Because I Jealous of Gunilda grow.  
But here she haunts me still—   

SCENE II.  Enter Gunilda. Gun. 
— However slow  
Your tongue, howe'er unwilling to reveal,  
Yet some new Care your eyes more kindly tell.  
That heart (that firm and very Rock before)  
Shakes by some gust from a Remoter shore.  Edi. 
From France you cannot apprehend the storm,  
There an Usurper does the Throne deform.  
From Germany no Emperor can appear,  
Since Otho fell, my younger Sister's share;  
Otho, who now of late is called the Great.  
The others I descend not to repeat.  
No such new care did my free thoughts inflame;  
Only the last night's Ball diverted them.  Gun. 
The Stranger there—  
I could with a particular eye have seen,  
Were but his blood as noble as his mien.  
Sweetness did not the Majesty betray,  
Nor Majesty his Sweetness fright away:  
That wheresoever he would a Heart invade,  
His Looks at once seem by kind Nature made  
Able to force, or ready to persuade.  
Together there such state and mildness met,  
He seemed at once agreeable and great.  Edi. 
How with his praise my Jealous heart she wounds? Aside.  
And now how harsh the ill-timed music found'st?  
Methinks I something in his face did see, To Gun.  
Something that speaks him of no Low degree.  Gun. 
He Monarchlike did in the Crowd prevail,  
And on himself drew the Regards of all.  
Another Edgar some began to cry;  
Others, that he might even with Edgar vie:  
Till Edgar's presence cleared the growing Doubt;  
Whose beams, like a strong Torrent, breaking out,  
Instantly bore the young Usurper down,  
And in all minds confirmed his shaken Throne.  
But see he comes—   

SCENE III.  Enter Lewis. 
The Ladies (since the Tournament was past)  
On some cross winds your late arrival cast: To Lew.  
Else, who your softer Gallantries have seen,  
Had witness of your Manly virtues been.  Edi. 
Our English there by rougher shocks maintain  
That honour, they in mild encounters gain.  Lew. 
They small success must to their arms presage,  
Who against the English in the Lists engage.  
And they, however, whom the Brave might spare,  
Must fall a certain conquest to the Fair.  
What Knights did fortune to that glory raise,  
As from so fair a mouth to merit praise?  Gun. 
After Nine days in furious Justs had passed,  
Each Courage grew more prodigal: the Last,  
The sport so hot, shockt our relenting sight,  
Which scarce could bear the Terrible delight.  
Each Nation then their pride abated found,  
Their boldest Knights were strowed upon the ground.  
There Spaniards low were with new stiffness laid;  
And there the Germans lusty Limbs were spread.  
There Osmin lay, his eyeballs rolled in death;  
And there Almanzor grinning for new breath:  
Too late repenting, they from afric came  
So far, in quest of an uncertain Fame.  
Their mighty Victor was for Edgar known,  
By his address through his disguise that shone.  Edi. 
That was not Edgar; he, by Edgar dared,  
With Spear reversed his low respects preferred:  
Unknown he came, unknown he left the Field,  
And did the prize, to those he vanquished, yield.  Gun. 
When boasting Ethelwold was headlong thrown,  
Your favours strait the Stranger's arms did crown:  
You did his Spear so eminently grace, To Ed.  
Your Ring for meaner trophies left no place.  Lew. 
That stranger Knight invoked Editha's name;  
And owed his Conquest, where he owned his Flame.  Edi. 
His secrets by some Magic Line you sound.  Lew. 
The Magic is all in this Circle bound. Shows a ring.   

SCENE IU.  Enter Sergeants and Soldiers seize Lewis. Serj. 
You must to prison—  Lew. 
— What's the heinous Crime?  Serj. 
Ask Ethelwold, and learn the rest of him.  Lew. 
Virtue renounce, and Gallantry abjure,  
Since they are not in English Courts secure. They carry him off.   

SCENE V.  Edi. 
If here brave Strangers thus are entertained,  
All men must fly th' in hospitable Land;  
Avoid our shore, and in the Storms at Sea,  
Amongst Sands and Rocks find more humanity.  Gun. 
This hour be razed from out King Edgar's Reign,  
Else it might all the other bright days slain.  
Some Minister in this abused his Trust,  
For 'tis below a King to be unjust.  Edi. 
These favourites on that Royal power encroach,  
No Subject, without Sacrilege, can touch;  
And still believe their Thunder idly spends,  
But when it some illustrious Ruin sends.  Gun. 
In this the hand of Ethelwold is seen,  
He acts the King, now that his Daughter's Queen.  Edi. 
And let her reign, unenvied as unpraised,  
To that high rank, in spite of Honour, raised.  
That title on Gunilda if bestowed,  
With Joy I to the dignity had bowed.  Gun. 
Betrothed to Kenneth, I for Scotland sailed,  
Against our intent when adverse winds prevailed,  
And I by storms was forced upon your shore;  
Where Edgar's Love disordered me yet more.  
His Love, for so I construed that Address,  
Which did but his Civilities express.  
But Heaven disproven that faithless change in me,  
And, angry, smiled at my Unconstancy.  Edi. 
Yet Kenneth did, no fault, that error think,  
Or else his Love did at the Frailty wink.  
And he unchanged, your wavering purpose knew.  
And something to his Constancy is due.  Gun. 
I ignorant still, and constant had remained,  
Had never I the sight of England gained.  
But here—  Edi. 
— Who here? (since Edgar claims no place)  
Who here, that can your vowed affections press?  
Or Kenneths first, and justest Title shake?  Gun. 
Those vows, and ties, how easily Edgar broke?  
And here, since Edgar from that Conquest fled,  
Are others not unworthy to succeed,  
Who may consummate, what he but begun.  Edi. 
The Queen— I must her hated presence shun.  Exeunt.  

SCENE VI.  Enter Ethelgede and Women. Ethelg. 
Stars, ever in this kind position rest;  
And Fortune, be thy giddy turnings ceased:  
Now fix thy Wheel, and set it by to rust.  
Once, it appears, thou art to Merit Just.  
Was Fortune blind, when she bestowed this grace?  
Never was Crown so fitted with a face. Looks in a glass.  
From every Look I glance a conquering dart,  
At every Step I trample on a Heart.  
An Air of greatness in each feature reigns,  
And Royal blood distends my Nobler veins.  
My Soul is great, and now, each thought grown big,  
Begins to labour with some State intrigue.  
— Editha shall submit that haughty brow,  
— Shall understand she is my Subject now.  
Such Insolences— Let it not be said,  
A Diadem e'er adorned this Royal head;  
Let not this body issue bear, that may Enter Ethelwold and Alfrid.  
In aftertimes the English Sceptre sway;  
Never of me let Infant King be born,  
If I forget her ill-dissembled scorn.  
Father, (for I still the Relation own, To Ethelwold.  
Though, in effect, we with Crowned heads have none,)  
Father—   

SCENE VII.  Ethelw. 
— I have not Leisure now to hear,  
My mind is stung with a more pressing Care.  Exeunt Queen, etc. Alfr. 
Your Cares seem mixed with an unkind allay,  
And symptoms of a sickening Love betray.  Ethel. 
Should you be seen, nought can my fate repel:  
I know that face, and know the King too well.  Alfr. 
You, knowing these, in doubt my virtue call.  Ethel. 
Rather my life, on which the storm must fall;  
Against which you Edgar's certain Fury whet:  
You caused my Crime, and now would punish it.  
Oh that you lay in some dark village chained,  
And there, remote, of Marriage-bonds complained.  
But always Fate, Man's downfall when decreed,  
Puts out his eyes, and blinds us ere we bleed.  Alfr. 
Your mind appearing in this Doubtful dress,  
The worst (if known) could terrify me less.  Ethel. 
My death (will that suffice you?) is the worst.  
Be Women, and their witchcraft, Beauty, cursed.  
Beauty, thou poisonous Flower! thou painted skin!  
Frailty without, and Impotence within!  
Vain wand'ring Meteor, which, so soon as known,  
Art lost! thou glow'st, seducest, and art gone.  
Light, which dost more than thickest darkness blind!  
Angel in show, but in effect a Fiend!  
From Paradise, where Golden Freedom shines,  
Thou send'st to dig and drudge in endless mines.  Alfr. 
You fret, suspect, complain, accuse, inveigh,  
Whilst ignorant, in guilty paths I stray.  
Some grief the quiet of your breast controls,  
In it, there some uneasy secret rolls;  
From thence alone this strange distraction springs.  Ethel. 
Then out it flies— my Love shall lend it wings—  
Take it— but yet, it is so near my Life,  
Both go together—  Alfr. 
— Safely to your Wife,  
For so the Priest hath called me—  Ethelw. 
— Then I'll try  
Your Love, or, having made confession, die.  
The King by fame did of your Beauty hear,  
And Alfred's name chimed sweetly in his ear.  
Each day did your Perfections more unfold,  
And every day were greater wonders told.  
With this Renown he was so far possessed,  
Unseen, you were admitted to his breast.  
But lest a Love from some mistake might grow,  
He sends express the certainty to know.  
I was his Favourite to that degree,  
That he reposed this Confidence in me.  
With Loyal thoughts, and Just intentions fraught,  
I came— I saw, and Loyalty forgot.  
Thus treacherous made, I back return to Court,  
Swifter (and surely falser) than Report.  
Said I, The prospect is at distance fair,  
But undeceives, whoever views it near.  
Some handsome features are in Alfred seen,  
But these disgraced by an uncomely mien.  
The Brow serene, and a bright rolling Eye;  
But then the Nose stands fair for Raillery.  
And though her Lip with invitation swells,  
Th' approach one sally of her Breath repels.  
But yet the Women of her Shape, and Face,  
May well enough for Country Beauties pass.  
Thus I with Fame in nothing did accord,  
My Tongue blaspheming what my Heart adored:  
And by this Artifice did so work, and move  
The King, that he consented to my Love:  
Which I pretended was by Interest led,  
That so I might the heir of Cornwall wed.  Alfr. 
At once to wrong me, yet to Love pretend!  
I judged the same a Lover, and a Friend.  
Perhaps in truth, these blemishes you find,  
And rambling Fame, that talked so loud, was blind.  
The best is, if this Face a Tempest raise,  
One sally of my Breath will all appease.  
That, if you rest from other Crimes secure,  
You safely may the shock of this endure.  Ethelw. 
Still fatally to my destruction bend!  
Vain Woman, go, pursue your dire intent.  Alfr. 
The King may yet some small suspicions bear,  
One sight of me those dangerous doubts will clear.  Ethelw. 
Your beauty who denies, denies the Sun.  
To your large Glass have I not seen you run,  
There all intent intemperately gaze,  
Fill your stretched eyes with the reflected rays,  
And in that luxury consume the day,  
Till drunk with the sweet draught you reeled away?  Alfr. 
I might my beauty prize in some degree,  
When I your love and low respects did see.  
That Conquest seemed a Miracle for me.  
Nor might I think that England can afford  
Then Ethelwold a more illustrious Lord.  Ethelw. 
O tongue too subtle for a Lover's heart!  
Let us divide, and both submit in part.  
Be you content, yourself unseen, to see,  
And I indulge your curiosity.  
Cover those Beams, and let that natural Light,  
Obscured by Art, less fiercely strike the Sight.  
My Crime may lurk beneath your Twilight-ray;  
Laid open, you discovering all your Day.  
Your Face disguised, I may securely pass.  Alfr. 
With what foul Blots would you heavens gifts disgrace?  
heavens, that in earnest angry oft retort  
What we affect, or counterfeit in sport.  Ethelw. 
Vexatious still— Dispute not, but obey.  Alfr. 
To my Obedience my Disputes make way.  
Let me your Grief and worst Misfortunes share:  
But Fraud and Wrong, I dare not tamper there.  Ethelw. 
Howe'er you to your Face allow no part,  
Your many words declare you false at Heart.  
Scarce are we joined, the Marriage-knot scarce tied,  
How many Jars and Jealousies divide?  
Blaze on, dire Comet— may thy Influence be  
To Crowns and Empires fatal, as to me.  Alfr. 
Whither do your rash words and passion fly?  
To calm your mind, my utmost power I'll try.  
If I receive advantage from my Dress,  
'Tis that I you might with advantage please.  
If, wanting this, your Love be not impaired,  
These Ornaments I readily discard. Pulls off her Patches.  Ethelw. 
Those Trifles did your Beauty but rebate.  
If this be all you'll do, how desperate is my state!  
Pull out those Eyes— and then my work is done.  
To what extremes will my resentment run! Pulls her away. Exeunt.   

SCENE VIII.  Queen returns with Women. Ethelg. 
Show not my Nuptials now to England more  
Than Syria, Greece, or Rome e'er saw before?  
More Kings their Homage to my Edgar pay,  
Then Planets to the Monarch of the Day.  
He sits on high, illustrious and large:  
They blow, and tug and launch along his Barge.   

SCENE IX.  The King in a Triumphant Barge appears within the Scenes, rowed by eight Kings towards the Stage, etc. The Kings enter in procession with their gilded Oars; after them Edgar, with Alfrid in his hand, his eyes fixed on her, Ethelwold behind. The Kings successively salute Edgar. 1. King. 
The Hands that lately shining Sceptres bore,  
Learning new tasks, are blistered with the Oar.  
A Homage ever shall be paid by me  
To him that rules and that defends the Sea.  2. King. 
His part of Earth to every Prince is due;  
Whilst on the Waters none is King but You.  3. King. 
In narrow bounds are our Dominions penned.  
The strongest Winds fall dead, their last breath spent,  
ere they attain your Empire's vast extent.  4. King. 
The spacious Heaven and Nature's care scarce stretch.  
So far, as your immense Dominions reach.  5. King. 
Nothing is seen that your large Power confines,  
Except in Globes imaginary Lines.  6. King. 
What Nation dares your Dictates disobey?  
He shakes the Earth, who can the Ocean sway.  7. King. 
Your Sea, (without you) to assert your Power,  
Invades and conquers the rebellious Shore;  
Stretches its swelling Arms, and grasps each Land,  
And combats all that own not your Command.  8. King. 
Your Sails must lowr when Winds and Storms are high,  
And on the Water all but Heaven defy.  Edgar. 
What art thou? from whence? what far-distant Coast  
Sends thee, proud Spoils and vanquished Kings to boast? To Alfrid.  
Those Eyes do all our Pomp and Glory brave,  
And in the midst of Triumph make me Slave.  
Now all the Homage which was lately paid,  
By me resigned, at your fair Feet is laid.  
From what height is my Pride untimely thrown!  
Snow, which some lofty Mountain's head doth crown,  
When the South-wind's warm breath once issues forth,  
Thus shrinks, dissolves, and sinks into the Earth.  
Why was this Face, or why not sooner seen?  
Yet after all thou shalt be— thou art Queen—  
Speak, Nymph— assuage my pain—  Alfr. 
— So new a thing  
It is for me to see or hear a King,  
My Eye's too weak to look on Majesty;  
And Tongue unskilled to fashion a Reply.  Edg. 
Proceed, sweet Harm'nie— Let your Tongue Love sing,  
And your tuned Heart consent in every string.  
Let every Sense to Love's soft Charms incline.  Alfr. 
Might I presume, or any thing define,  
Your words seem aimed at one in equal Sphere,  
And ill descend into a Subject's ear.  
Unfit for Love, we dread your Majesty,  
And low to that, at distance, prostrate lie.  Edg. 
All Majesty and Distance I disown:  
If Subject born, you are my Sovereign grown.  
You, all Divine, with radiant Beauty crowned,  
In me the very thought of Power confound.  
Pardon, bright Form, if I approach too near,  
A sudden, raw, unpractised Worshipper.  Alfr. 
If Beauty were a thing to be adored,  
England would be, like barbarous Egypt, stored.  
In every Grange you might an Idol see,  
And nothing rare or singular in me.  Edg. 
There's something in you, sure, divinely rare.  
Am I a Slave to every Maid that's fair?  
Me you accuse, yourself whilst you impair.  
No common Planets in your Birth were joined,  
No influence for common Fates assigned.  
I feel the power— resistless— infinite—  
Then Majesty more strong, and more than Beauty sweet.  
My burning Veins prove your full Presence there,  
And my astonished Soul declares you everywhere.  Alfr. 
'Tis Glory, Sir, 'tis Glory that inflames  
Your mighty Soul, which still of Glory dreams;  
Whose Image wanders bright before your eyes,  
And you to that more nobly sacrifice.  
Those Hymns are not to Humane kind addressed,  
Nor Edgar's Soul to earthly Frames debased.  Edg. 
'Tis my good Angel that I hear and see;  
My Eyes and Ears confess a Deity.  
Yet my Devotions were not pure; the Man, Aside.  
The Earthly part did my Soul's zeal profane:  
My Heart conceived a criminal Desire; Ethelwold takes her away.  
And guilty Thoughts allayed the holy Fire.  
I doubted, wished, presaged, expected thence,  
Something more dear, and relishing to Sense.  
Forgive me— how?— the heavenly Vision's gone. Turns about.  
Glory, thou call'st, but whither shall I run?  
I'm lost in Darkness and Distraction.  Exeunt all save  

SCENE X.  Kenneth solus. Ken. 
Go, Brother-homagers, your work is done,  
Whilst restless I roll Sisyphus' Stone.  
From Toil are free my Hands and outward part;  
But ah the Pangs and Labour of my Heart!  
The daily Homage to Gunilda paid!  
I through Disdains, sharp Snow and Winter wade.  
Yet more I strive, and eagerly persist,  
The farther off I tumble from her Breast.  
Denmark's fair Daughter, only vowed to thee  
Are all my Cares, my Pride, my Liberty.  
O happy Edgar! in this Court of thine  
The choicest Flowers of farthest Nations shine.  
If any Spark in noble breasts does burn,  
Here Gallantry they either show or learn.  
The Brave and Fair thy Count do jointly prove  
The Theatre of Honour, and of Love.  Exit.   

ACT II.  

SCENE I. Garden.  Lewis and Kenneth. Lewis. 
THE Sentence which for my late Bonds was signed,  
Did me in fair Editha's presence find.  
Her nearer Beams did on my Senses beat,  
Whilst sick and panting with excessive Heat,  
A thousand amorous Thoughts rolled in my head,  
And Cares by Love-disordered Fancy bred.  
And there I gave my Liberty for lost,  
Fearless of harm from any other Coast.  Ken. 
Thought he, You tame to an Affront would stand,  
Whom Love had chafed and heated to his hand.  Lew. 
But scarce had I in Prison set my Foot,  
When a new Sentence came to fetch me out:  
From Ethelwold it came,—  
Tells me, in Field I for th' Affront must pay,  
And he resent it this more generous way.  Ken. 
To's Power that sullen Compliment was due;  
And this Respect to's Honour, and to you.  Lew. 
With Power turned giddy, insolent he grows;  
But scarce (I fear) enough of Honour knows.  
Howe'er, an edge on my Revenge to set,  
He will it thus with Provocations whet.  
Armed at all points we must the Combat try:  
In all I with the Challenger comply.  Ken. 
The Tournament gave rise to your Dispute,  
And he your Cause with proper Arms would suit. Exeunt severally.   

SCENE II.  Edgar solus. Edg. 
How slow is Time to a Love-tortured mind?  
The lazy Hour flags heavily behind,  
Not yet arrived. How pressing are these Fires?  
I am devoured by my too keen Desires.  
Is this to be a King? Whom Men obey,  
Shall over him a brutish Passion sway?  
We who control the greatest Tyrant Law,  
With a stern Nod too-busie Justice awe,  
Whilst we our vast Prerogatives extol,  
This name of Weakness, Woman, humbles all.  
What Power hath he, who Slave is to a Frown?  
Or is he Sovereign whom a Smile can crown?  
I'm still myself, nor is it yet too late,  
Nor yet the path too headlong for retreat.  
We, too-unsafe, with these soft Dangers play—  
I go— yet something in me bids me stay—  
I'll stay— and, Virtue, I thine aid implore—  
No— foolish Heart, I'll hazard thee no more.  
Who wast her Conquest when untouched and sound,  
Shalt not be trusted, now I know thy Wound. Is going off, meets   

SCENE III.  Ethelwold. Ethelw. 
'Tis well— I take him whilst his Passion boils:  
No Lover's eyes can e'er descry my Toils. Aside.  
Th' unwary Youth shall leap into the Net,  
And on new Game discharge his wanton Heat.  
The Arms shall cover him, but not defend.  
One well-placed Blow shall all my Troubles end.  
The work is easy—  Edg. 
How— Ethelwold— hold— one thing ere you go,  
Which to my Curiosity I owe.  
The Woman whom I at my Landing found  
With you, her Eyes in melting Sorrow drowned,  
Who is she?—  Ethelw. 
— One designed to serve the Queen;  
But Bashfulness forbids her to be seen.  
She sought a Hiding-place when us you met,  
And— I stepped in, to hinder her retreat.  Edg. 
Prevail with her at Court some time to stay,  
And soon that Modesty will wear away.  
Is she related to you?—  Ethelw. 
— That agree,  
My Carriage else would look too rudely free.  
But I too long am held from her Defence.  
Pardon, dread Sir, with a just Heat dispense  
On her behalf— I hear the Horses neigh,  
And clanck of Arms upbraiding my delay.  Edg. 
What Arms? what barbarous Danger threatens her?  
What Enemies can so much Beauty fear?  Ethelw. 
When Beauty darts the strongest influence,  
On Honour's side most weak is the defence.  Edg. 
Her Honour questioned?—  Ethelw. 
— Nothing can be true,  
Bolts from a mouth that also injures you.  Edg. 
How me?—  Ethelw. 
— 'Tis he who in Disguise, so late,  
To Fortune, at the Justs, was most in debt.  
He says, t' encounter you was his design,  
Which your request obliged him to decline.  Edg. 
Madness on him doth, with his Pride, increase:  
The man wants Brain to bear his good Success.  
From him she could deserve no Injury:  
Aspersing her, th' Affront was aimed at me;  
In her he touches my most tender part. Aside.  
She claims my Arms, who challenges my Heart.  
Where is the place?—  Ethelw. 
— With silent Feet we range  
Single, unseen, to steal a cold Revenge.  
But in broad day, with Trumpets sound, the rage  
Of Armies must for injured Kings engage.  Edg. 
I Armies against a public Foe would bring:  
This quarrel is with Edgar, not the King.  Ethelw. 
I gave the Challenge, now the Cause is mine.  Edg. 
Your Arguments must to my will resign;  
My Arm this Quarrel every way demands,  
Nor can I trust the Cause in other hands.  
On horse the fight— the Casque my Face will hide,  
So better he will my Revenge abide.  
And if my better fortune makes him bow,  
He may believe the Combat was with you.  
The Arms? the Horse?—  Ethelw. 
— Without that door they wait.  
Beyond the Elms was our appointment set.  
But 'tis not fit—  Edg. 
Leave me— and stir not hence. Ex. Edg.   

SCENE IU.  Ethelw. solus. Ethel. 
Small Crimes we start at when we first begin,  
But stop at nothing when our hands are in.  
The blackest Treason now to me's no more,  
Then was the least Disloyal thought before.  
Love, that blind Guide, first led me from the way:  
I farther going, farther go astray.  
These Paths we enter with a tender Foot,  
By every Thorn and every Scruple cut;  
Thus our first Steps: we after boldly tread,  
Grown hard, and brawny, and all sense is dead.  
Thus from small Errors in the birth and seed,  
Are Prodigies and horrid Monsters bred.  
Having once past the Lines of Fit and Just,  
All farther Law and Reason's writ in Dust:  
All farther are but Ciphers to the Sum.  
I've a new world of Wickedness to come.  
Free in my Choice and will, I first begun:  
But now, by dire Necessity dragged on,  
So far advanced, the Danger's to be slack:  
On Precipices there's no looking back. Offers to go. Meets   

SCENE V.  Ethelgede and Alfrid. 
This way he passed— amongst the dark Shades that Face To Alfr.  
Yields a fair Light, his Royal Steps to trace.  
You at the first encounter reached his Heart,  
And for your Breast there wanted not a Dart.  
His Wounds he doth not unrevenged mourn;  
For every Shaft, was made a just Return.  Alfr. 
Lately, my Lord, before our Marriage-vow,  
Soft were your Looks, and gentle was your Brow,  
And melting Words did all with Sweetness flow:  
Now, Storms and Troubles in your Eyes I read,  
And in your Face no peaceful Colours spread:  
And from your Tongue mysterious Language breaks,  
Which nought to me, or but your Anger, speaks.  Ethel. 
We to a fair Appearance rashly wed,  
And never see the loathsome Serpent hid.  
What you call Mystery, I might reveal:  
Those Mysteries you understand too well. Exit Ethelw.  Ethelg. 
You wept— the King was moved at your Distress:  
So bright a Nymph, how could a King do less?  
Hence 'tis presumed that your Design prevails:  
An Inference that's, like your Beauty, false.  Alfr. 
Let not my Virtue share in the Disgrace,  
However out of Favour is my Face.  
But if my Heart could, like my Face, be seen,  
Your Brow to me might still remain serene.  Ethelg. 
The King intended you his Royal Bride,  
Till Ethelwold your beauty's Charms belied.  
Persuaded this— you hug the glittering Dream,  
And now set up to play your Aftergame.  
Editha never did such things suggest,  
Nor into her Cabal the new Designer list?  Alfr. 
The King's intent I scruple not to own,  
From Ethelwold, not from Editha known.  
But for the rest, your Highness what inclines  
To judge of me as fit for Court-designs?  Ethelg. 
Oh, none so proper, so completely fit,  
Where Malice makes the Instrument, not Wit.  
How close soe'er they hatch within your Breast,  
I'll find them out, or shall destroy the Nest.  Exeunt as frighted, Edg. and Lew. appearing with drawn Swords.  

SCENE VI.  Edgar and Lewis appear within the Scene, and advance to the Stage. Lew. 
When your raised Visor did your Face betray,  
And I perceived 'twas at your Feet I lay,  
That chance my flying spirits did recall,  
And then I seemed to triumph in my Fall.  
And with warm heart I thanked the Heavenly powers,  
Since yet no Arms e'er vanquished me but yours.  
But what most deep my troubled heart have pierced,  
Are those false Rumours Ethelwold dispersed:  
They wound me still—  Edg. 
— I cannot but confide,  
And trust your words, having your Valour tried.  
Lying, a low and recreant Mind declares,  
For every man will speak the Truth who dares.  
Nor doth the Armour, tried, appear of proof.  Lew. 
That, that alone is evidence enough  
Against him, in stead of having Safety thence:  
'Twas your Address defended your Defence.  
He comes—  Edg. 
My Guards too to his party drawn—  Lew. 
Yet in your Cause you shall not die alone.  
The Life you gave shall be as freely spent.  Edg. 
Rule your brave Heat, till sure of their intent.   

SCENE VII.  Enter Ethelwold, Guards. 
Are these our Guards? or your confederate Crew? To Ethelw.  
Intent you Force, or would vain Fraud pursue?  Ethelw. 
Death in no form so terrible appears, Kneeling presents his Sword.  
As doth that Face which your Displeasure bears.  
How can I see, and how sustain that Brow,  
At me which never levelled Frown till now?  
I am condemned; I know what Doubts infest;  
I see the black inextricable Mist,  
Which round my labouring Innocence is spread:  
And yet the worst, your Ear is from me fled.  Edg. 
My Ear is not to your Defence refused,  
Yet must not be by a vain Cant abused.  
With less Regret I others Treason hear, To Ethelwold.  
Then but, in you, the least Suspicion bear.  
In all important Pleasures, you had part,  
Sharing at once my Kingdom and my Heart.  
How many Nobles did his Piques displace,  
Who, now retired, live murmuring in Disgrace?  
Wilmott his place, nor Cavendish had lost,  
If I in aught could Ethelwold have crossed.  
As Earth heavens Favours, these ours entertain;  
Send back unwholesome Vapours for our Rain.  
Thus men to whom Prosperity is stale,  
Despise that Heaven whence they derived it all.  
Puffed up, and grown by long Indulgence proud,  
That makes them Atheists, which should make them good.  
Friendship is amongst Equals only fixed,  
And Kindnesses reciprocally mixed.  
Whilst still on us the Counterfeit impose,  
The Regal State no real Friendship knows.  
All Friendship here is in vile Flattery lost.  
A Friend's a Jewel that no Crown can boast.  
But tax not my proceedings as unkind, To Ethelwold.  
If you, till I know farther, be confined.  Ethelg. 
'Tis the Queen's Father you to prison send. Enter Queen, Alfrid. The Guards take off Ethelwold. The Queen steps in and releases him.  Edg. 
And more than all Relation, 'tis my Friend.  Ethelg. 
This ominous on our Nuptiall-day must be.  Edg. 
'Tis ominous, but to our Enemy.  
But think not that with Rigour I proceed:  
For if your Heart is troubled, mine doth bleed.  Exeunt Queen, etc.  

SCENE VIII.  
Again in Tears? whence springs this fatal Grief?  
Can I? can all my Kingdoms give relief? To Alfr.  
This sight alone would all my Joys control.  
How every Drop falls bitter on my Soul!  Alfr. 
Can Ethelwold have merited your Hate,  
And I not have my portion in his fate?  Edgar. 
Recall him— had the blood of Kings been spilt,  
Those Tears would purge and expiate the Gild.  
Behold the Wretch through your Compassion freed. Ethelwold is brought back.  
Yet more than he, ('lass!) I your pity need.  
My Soul enthralled— and Senses all restrained—  
My Tongue sticks fast— my very Words are chained—  
A Fire within devours me: yet must I  
To you alone, to you who kill me, fly,—  
And only there expect my Remedy—  Alfr. 
If I may answer Language thus obscure,  
I cannot own the faculty to cure  
Those Pains and that Distemper you endure.  Edg. 
Love is my Pain, my sole Distemper Love:  
But answer this, and all my Griefs remove.  Alfr. 
My humble state cannot this Honour bear,  
Nor understand what now I seem to hear.  
Howe'er, your Trouble since within you find,  
virtue's the only Physic for the Mind.  Edg. 
whate'er Distemper does the Mind infest,  
First from the Body is derived the Pest.  
And for the Cure no other method's known;  
The Cure begins where the Disease begun.  Alfr. 
You in a heat too rashly that prefer,  
Which cooler thoughts would instantly abhor.  
And, for a seeming Ill, your vain Relief  
A real turns, and more outrageous Grief.  Edg. 
We two shall meet, yet not from Virtue stray;  
Though to my Joys dark and unknown's the way.  
Something Divine, some Inspiration fills,  
And my fired Breast a sacred Fury swells.  
By Love, or some more gentle Muse, possessed,  
I prophesy myself, in your Embraces, blessed.  Alfr. 
This would sound sweet, where a Belief might rise:  
My Heart is deaf t' Impossibilities.  
You by firm Bands from these Desires are tied, To Edg.  
And me no weaker Obstacles divide.  
Such Difficulties, ne'er to be surpassed,  
And rigid Bars, by Fate betwixt us cast;  
Law, Justice, Honour, all oppose this Love:  
And there's no Faith that may such Rocks remove.  Edg. 
I know the Rampires that obstruct my Will;  
Yet with more rage does the wild Torrent swell.  
Ye Powers, what have you done?— in this true Blessing crossed,  
On me are all your splendid Trifles lost.  
King of the Isles, and of whole Albion crowned,  
And Master far of the vast Seas around,  
Thus great I reign, if in her Favour blessed:  
But that denied, no Sweets of Power I taste;  
Wretched, forlorn, in Woods condemned to pine,  
Exiled, where no kind Ray of Heaven can shine.  Alfr. 
I cannot make your days more clear or bright,  
Nor to the Sun, a Glow-worm, promise Light.  
No humane Excellence that strange power can claim,  
Nor you for me these great Ideas frame.  Edg. 
What is all Power, if it to Love must bow?  
Or what, indeed, is all of Heaven we know,  
But Love? All Happiness in Love alone  
Is placed; 'tis there the Blessed fix their Throne.  Ethelw. 
Furies! must I a tame Spectator stand?  
Did he for this from Prison me remand? Aside.  
Am I from a less painful Rack released,  
Thus to be tortured? Howsoe'er disgrac't, To Edg.  
Howe'er obnoxious judged, yet Truth is bold.  
The Breath that married you is yet scarce cold,  
And yet your Actions threaten a Divorce.  
A Tyrant's Sword the Gordian Knot may force.  
Your Royal Grace was taught another Law—  Edg. 
Of which you shall the Rigour undergo—  
Take— take the Traitor hence— must you upbraid— Walks a turn.  
You check my will—  
Bring back the Duke— How did I urge a Crime,  
Which I before, so late, had pardoned him?  
I own the Truth that he declared, I own  
I have some rash impetuous Transports shown.  
They sprang from no approved or certain Cause;  
For, without Thought, a sudden Passion rose,  
Boisterous, and high, no place for Reason left;  
All helpless ran 'fore the fierce Storm adrift.  
But Reason now makes head, at th' helm employed;  
And my Desires to the vowed Port will guide.  
I moving towards my Queen— as on the Sea,  
Think the fair Land behind goes back from me—  
Whether the Foot— goes forward, or beguiles  
My sense— I'm sure the stubborn Heart recoils. Exit.   

SCENE IX.  Alfrid sola. 
How shall I the obscure nice Track discern?  
Or where this high undaunted Conduct learn?  
A silent Shame weighs down my face, and I,  
As guilty, from whoe're approaches fly. Exit.   

SCENE X.  Lewis and Editha. Lew. 
Your Eyes, that make the proudest Victor's bow, To Editha turning from him.  
And shake the Laurels on their haughty Brow,  
Behold us, as unworthy of your Charms,  
Who could submit to any other Arms.  Editha. 
Oft is a King puffed with undue Success,  
When Flatterers, his Courage to caress,  
Unforced are beaten.—  Lewis. 
— Edgar's close Disguise  
Left here no room for that unjust Surmise.  
But 'tis more Glory by his hands to fall,  
Then in a meaner Crowd to conquer all:  
And whatever Praise to Edgar's Arms is due,  
Fate brought me to be vanquished first by you.  Editha. 
The Victor with small Triumph would be graced,  
Except with him more Courage you professed.  
But you pursue your Liberty too far:  
With me your only safe Discourse is War.  Lew. 
War I might with less fear and danger move:  
But all are here the certain Spoils of Love.  
Love sways my Tongue—  Editha. 
— Love is a Crime revealed;  
When written in the Heart, the Lips must still be sealed.  Lew. 
But Love, however industriously hid,  
Breaks out, in all our Looks and Actions read.  Editha. 
More easily smallest Ciphers some discern,  
Than others largest Characters can learn.  
But do not rashly to my Rank commit  
What never was for our perusal fit:  
Lest that unlicensed to your Ruin turn,  
And juster Flames your wretched Labours burn.  Lew. 
Who want your real and unquestioned Worth,  
May glory that Queens travelled at their Birth.  
What wants in Heart, in their proud Veins does flow:  
And Blood they boast, their Virtue ebbing low.  
Others in this, as Equals, may contest;  
Whilst you're alone and matchless in the rest.  
If Royal Lineage authorise a Flame,  
You cannot then our just Ambition blame.  
The man for whom I'm bold to mention Love,  
Is from a Crown at most but one Remove.  Editha. 
Who is not King, holds but a Subject's place.  
From Crowns the very first Remove is base.  Lewis. 
But were he King, and of a Throne possessed,—  Edith. 
That, only, were no Title to my Breast.  
Were he so great, and your Supposal true,  
He then might claim a Liberty to sue,  
And at my Feet his Royalty depose,  
Whilst I shall weigh the Merits of his Cause.  
But if you wish a prosperous Embassy,  
Let me my Love first on his Picture try.  
Then blazon the renowned Original,  
Proclaim his Sovereign Titles then—  Lew. 
— I shall  
Obey, and trace the method you command:  
For to the Eyes Love his first Shafts must send.  Exit Lewis. Edith. 
Whilst a rash Flame was in his Breast surmised,  
I against his Folly a just Anger poised.  
I coveted a cause to seem severe,  
And too much wished what I did vainly fear.  
Too mean and humble for that brave Offence,  
He only is ambitious for his Prince—  
Entreat the Stranger back— I will explore  
His Breast, and search all the dark Volume o'er, To Women who go off.  
To learn the Secret out. He from a King  
Might Confidence and free Expressions bring—  
Looks so engaged— and Words so nicely turned,— Lewis returns.  
Prove— he his own (a nearer Passion) mourned.  
Is your own Heart secure, whilst 'tis alleged, To Lewis.  
Your Cares are on another score engaged?  
Symptoms appear, as though yourself endure  
Some Pain. Declare, is your own Heart secure?  Lew. 
Surprised it pants, and trembles to be searched,  
Amongst so many blazing Beauties scorched.  Edi. 
Many may spread a harmless lambent blaze,  
And all, without the flashy Meteor plays,  
And (till in one contracted) hath no force.  
'Tis only a particular can pierce.  
To me reveal that Fair particular.  
Sometimes it may be Prudence to declare.  
However, Courage often better speeds:  
Cold Prudence thinking stands, whilst Courage vaults to deeds.  Lew. 
Climbing too high, from an ignoble Root,  
Courage turned rank, doth into Rashness shoot.  Edi. 
In happy Climates, by a warmer Sun,  
To a new height Plants, without fault, may run.  
But to be plain— you know yourself esteemed—  Lew. 
Alas!—  Edi. 
Confess— and venture to be blamed.  Lew. 
My Courage starts— Love is a Crime revealed.  Edi. 
But, undiscovered, can a Wound be healed?  Lew. 
These Favours daunt me more, than when her Brow  
Did with the hottest Indignation glow. Aside.  
Much more this sudden Flood doth me confound,  
Then by Despair when lately run aground.  
Fears press my Hopes, and Hopes confront my Fears,  
Most in the dark, when most the Light appears.  Edi. 
Considerate and slow, why this Delay?  
Love on stretched wings impatient speeds his way.  Lew. 
Let me not speak, (a Rudeness you abhor)  
But at my distance silently adore.  Edi. 
Suspect no Pale, or nicer Distance set:  
In the mid space two equal Flames will meet.  
But I mistake your Breast— Love reigns not there.  
What is it thus that clogs your Tongue?—  Lew. 
— Despair.  Edi. 
Some Hopes, I thought, from my Indulgence sent,  
Might bloom, and strew the way to your Content.  
A Princess woes in vain— Turns from him.  Lew. 
— Too wretched I,  
And ill-proportioned for the mighty Joy  
That rounds mine ear! what Dream deludes my sense?  Edi. 
No Colour may excuse your long Suspense. Gunilda appears and enters.  
Yet more t' upbraid your Incredulity,  
What was declared, her Hand shall ratify.  Lew. 
Oh happy day!—  Edi. 
— Gunilda, lend your Hand— Gives him Gunilda 's hand.  
Thus I perform—  Exit.  

SCENE XI.  Lew. 
— How all amazed I stand!—  Gun. 
Confused and stupid I!—  Lew. 
— And she is gone  
ere her Intent, her dark Intent, is known.  
And I, in Justice, scruple to receive  
What she might want Authority to give.  Gun. 
Few, when once seized, will their Possession quit,  
And nicely weigh the equitable Right.  
Your Eyes a fairer Purchase had designed.  Lew. 
My Eyes, my every Faculty is blind.  
In a dead Sea perplexed I float, nor know  
I on what Shore my abandoned Thoughts to throw.  Gun. 
All here to flatter your Desires agree:  
Where can your Hope's design a calmer Sea?  
Nor lies the Haven far remote. But you,  
I fear, a rash forbidden Course pursue.  
Go— Leave me— Kenneth saw us from afar, Exit Lewis.  
And against us, as Confederates, brings War.  
Till known what Course the Stranger aims to take,  
With Kenneth I some Breach must find, or make.   

SCENE XII.  Enter Kenneth. Ken. 
Guilty again— condemned so late before—  
She in my Friend does a new Love explore.  
False— false— a second time— But rashly I Aside.  
Unchain a Thought that out to Rage would fly.  
Here I shall Homage pay with less regret, To her.  
Since here are all my centred Wishes met.  
My Glory— my Gunilda— here is found.  Gun. 
Your Triumph drives on an ill-chosen ground.  
What Glory, or what Mistress yours is made  
By Deeds so mean?—  Ken. 
— What Fact would you upbraid?  Gun. 
Your Royal name no base Submissions blot,  
The Pageantry— and painted Oar forgot—  
I saw you not with red-swoln Finger's row,  
And o'er vile Labour hang your sweeting Brow.  
I nothing can reproach—  Ken. 
— I Lewis fear,  
And a false Friend in your Reproaches hear.  
Blinded by him, my Actions you deface,  
And in my room an odious Image place.  
Him my Revenge shall instantly pursue.  Exit.  

SCENE XIII.  Gunilda. 
I choose, repent, refuse, and choose again:  
This Pulse beats Love, the next a cold Disdain.  
I contradict, before I fully speak;  
And e'er half bend, my Resolutions break.  
Each fair Design I ruin in the bud:  
Then, only what I had condemned, think good.  
No sooner in my Breast a Thought can rise,  
But others spring and catch it as it flies.  
So hot my Head, whatever enters there  
But whizzes, and strait vanishes to Air.  
If aught more tough to an Opinion grows,  
Away that Bubble the first Whisper blows.  
My Soul is perfect Discord; Chance, not Skill,  
My Choice, and but the Shadow of a Will.  
Dreams are more real: to that Point I sail;  
But veer again with the next breathing Gale,  
Whilst a new Calenture my Sense does mock:  
For every Course I steer presents a Rock.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I. Bedchamber.  Alfrid leaning asleep with a Lute in hand, her Woman sings. 

THE SONG.  

AH! lay by your Lute;  
Ah, Lucasia! forbear.  
Whilst your Tongue I may hear,  
Other Music is mute.  
Ah! lay by your Lute.  
For the heavens have decreed, that my Heart should submit  
To none but the Charms of your Wit.   

The Conflict was hot,  
When I first met your Eyes;  
Yet my Heart would still rise,  
Though through and through shot.  
The Conflict was hot.  
But your Wit's great Artillery when drawn to the field,  
Oh then 'twas my glory to yield.  
To satisfy all,  
When an Empire is due  
To each Beauty in you,  
The World is too small,  
To satisfy all.  
With the rest you in Triumph shall sit and survey;  
But give Wit all the Spoils of the day.    Alfr. 
I tremble— Shadows I too highly rate. Alfrid waking starts up.  
'Tis but a Dream— yet often Dreams have weight.  
That night ere first I Ethelwold beheld,  
These Images my wondering Fancy filled:  
And now repeated, may Prophetic seem.  Wom. 
And now repeated are but still a Dream.  
If any Real Trouble crossed your way,  
You would not with Imaginary stay.  
But with what Face was this strange Vision seen?  Alfr. 
As I in a green Valley walked alone,  
A brighter Day and Lightning round me shone.  
Surprised, and lifting up my troubled Eyes,  
Behold an Eagle towering in the Skies.  
Of Birds a numerous train, that on him wait,  
Clapping their Wings, seemed to applaud his State,  
In his fierce Talons he a Crown did bear,  
Traversing oft, and beating in the Air.  
At last his motion towards me was bend,  
Who trembling stood, expecting the Event:  
When two great Ravens, with a hasty flight,  
Struck in between, and barred my eager sight.  
One upwards, th' other towards me did take,  
And o'er my Head his huge black Wings did shake.  Wom. 
This frighted you, and with the Fright you wake.  Alfr. 
These Ravens after both fell at my Feet,  
And on my Head the Diadem was set.  Wom. 
Those winged Creatures of your Dream are gone,  
And all the Fate, that they portended, flown.  
Yet vainly you in transient Scenes of Air  
Seek ground whereon to build your Hope, or Fear.  
Rather your thoughts on that late Favour place. Pointing at a jewel.  
That Jewel bears a more Prophetic face,  
And shows more like the earnest of a Crown.  Alfr. 
I have not yet that wild Ambition known;  
Nor did I think this Present from the King  
Could on me an unfriendly Censure bring.  
If shall no more offend a jealous eye. Puts it in her bosom.   

SCENE II.  Enter Ethelwold and Ethelgede. Ethelg. 
To this bright Face you owe your Liberty. Pointing at Alfrid.  
Thus from her Frailty precious Merit grows,  
And She her Honour piously bestows.  Alfr. 
If his Release was granted at my Suit,  
Blame not the Tree, since you approve the Fruit.  
Nor to a Crime imputing the Success,  
Make the King's Favour, or my Virtue, less.  Ethelw. 
Curse on the Favours married Women boast!  
Thus they grow rich, but to the Husband's cost.  
What seems free Gift, she in the dark must earn;  
For what she takes, engaged to make return.  
And wanting Substance otherwise to paid,  
Her Body lies obnoxious for the Debt.  Ethelg. 
Denying now, Ungrateful you remain:  
And that's a Vice must not your Beauty stain.  Alfr. 
My Gratitude to nothing can enjoin  
Whence you, or strictest Virtue, may repine.  
The Bounty that does flow from God and Kings,  
Not from Design, but their high Nature springs.  
Nor do they with their Gift convey a Snare;  
Or make a Prey, when seeming to prefer.  Ethelw. 
Your Kings, howe'er resembling Gods above,  
Ungodded, are like Mortals in their Love.  
My work shall be to break your Traffic there.  
You think the Court a Market for the Fair.  Exeunt Ethelwold and Ethelgede.  

SCENE III.  Alfr. 
How black do my best Actions turn? I sow  
Sweet Flowers and Odours, but dire Mandrakes grow.  
A strange Infection from my Breath is spread,  
And Serpents rise from wheresoever I tread.  
A perverse Influence did our Nuptials sway,  
And a bad Angel governed all the day.  
Checked by a Parent's unresolved Frown,  
(Which flowing Smiles did overtake and drown)  
I thought myself to rigorous Duty tied,  
Ere I this Marriage-discipline had tried.  
From the first Ship thus was the Dove sent out,  
When only Death and Deluge raged about.  
Here Envy me, there Jealousies infest;  
There I'm by Love, the greatest Danger, pressed.  
Too far that Siren does my Attention move.  
But who is deaf when Kings profess their Love?  
The Storm still thickens, yet no Port I find:  
Death, at the worst, is to the Wretched kind.  
Death from all other Dangers will secure— She mingles poison.  
Death is the least of Ills I can endure:  
And Death is ready—  Wom. 
— What is here designed?  
To what extremes flies her distracted Mind?  
I will call help— Exit Wo.  Alfr. 
I'll not be so unprovidently chaste—  
Severe, like Lucrece, when the Crime is past.  
Better with timely care the Stain prevent,  
Then halt after with tardy Punishment.  
Not that (like ' her) I think a Tarquin near:  
I rather Force from my Inclinations fear—  
And lest I might be my own Ravisher—  
But against this Madness and irregular Heat  
I have a Cure, and ready a Receipt—  
Love's Julep, sovereign Antidote of Shame, Looks on the glass of poison.  
Wine— of the Soul— thou, the Ethereal Flame  
Quenching, an Earthly kindlest— Hence I soar  
Above— Drink this— I'm mortal than no more—  
That Tie— which causes Ethelwold such Pain,  
This will dissolve, and set him Free again.  
The Queen no more my Innocence shall tax,  
Or Virtue, by her rude Suspicions, vex.  
The King no more— When on the King I think,  
Ah now!— 'tis truly Poison that I drink—  
This Life if any Charm or Filter bind,  
That Charm and Filter in the King I find.  
My Soul to him some secret Magic ties:  
My Soul, when from him parted,— truly dies—  
For him alone I prise the Sun and Light:  
Closing my Eyes, Death shuts him from my sight.  
Often, how often have I heard it told?  
(Which made vain heads in their Presages bold.)  
And if the Honour were not singular,  
All will allow the Circumstances rare.  
When he, yet young, (the thirteenth year scarce gained)  
Did Surety for me at my Baptism stand,  
The Bishop did no sooner Alfrid name,  
But Edgar's Eyes and Cheeks were shot with flame:  
Till falling Drops of Blood took off the Heat:  
Then pale he turned, and sighed, and Alfrid did repeat.  
My Innocence the early Tincture knew,  
And secret Love with my Religion grew.  
Dear Pledge— Weeps looking on a jewel.  
On how unsure and slippery ground I rest,  
To speedy Flight by Guardian Virtue pressed!  
Virtue— thy sacred Summons I obey: Edgar behind her.  
Thy Voice Divine does all my Doubts allay.  
Thy Music strikes my Soul; a Power less strong  
Draws Savages, and Woods, and Rocks along.  
Edgar, farewell— it cannot— must not be. Takes to drink: sets down, retakes it.  
I come— I come—   

SCENE IU.  Edgar. Edg. 
— heavens otherwise decree. As she goes to drink, Edgar snatches the Glass.  
O'er humane Life what Fate, what Furies reign?  
What Plagues, what Seas did that small Glass contain?  
All Troubles from her by that Potion washed— She 'swounds.  
On me the Death and Bitterness had dashed.  
No Deluge could have Nature more annoyed:  
The World to me were by her Death destroyed.  
But what untimely Fate has closed her Sight?  
Unlock those Eyes, two living Globes of Light.  
Now am I equal to the Blessed above; She opens her eyes.  
Now in their Orbs the rolling Wonders move.  
Without which Stars, I, by dire Tempest tossed,  
In Death and everlasting Night am lost.  Alfr. 
Sweet Vision— still detained in earthly Clime—  
I'm blessed— and seem in Heaven before my time—  
The King himself—  
Pardon, great Sir, a sick, disordered Mind.  Edg. 
I can account your Sickness only kind.  
My Happiness from this Confusion grows,  
As heavens fair Frame from ancient Chaos rose.  Alfr. 
You, what by dying Wretches is confessed,  
Unhuman, to increase their Torture, wrest.  Edg. 
I am that Wretch, by your sole Breath who live,  
And from your Mouth have waited a Reprieve.  
Yet you retract what in my favour past.  Alfr. 
In me (alas!) a power's unduly placed,  
A Power of Life, unfortunately shown,  
That fails even in disposing of mine own.  
Who fail in this are damned before their time.  Edg. 
I cannot hear this Sorrow's dismal Chime.  
Before that Face the blackest Tempests fly,  
The scattered Clouds leave a serener Sky.  
Glad Nature smiles— where you (her Pride and Care)  
Once breathe, her richest Odours fill the Air.  
She strews her fragrant Treasures in your way,  
And there does all her Sweets, and all her Pomp's display.  Alfr. 
Nature to me nor Fortune e'er was kind;  
For still my Steps more Thorns than Roses find;  
And sharpest Grief still rankles in my Mind.  Edg. 
If any Monster-grief or Harpy gnaw,  
Try what an English King and Love can do.  
I Nature's secret Chambers will explore,  
The deepest Sea, and the remotest Shore;  
Make stubborn Rocks to your free Wishes yield,  
Till your Desires with shining Spoils are filled;  
Till Gems and Pearls on heaps around you lie,  
With all that's rare, and precious to the Eye,  
Sweet to the Taste, or to the Touch is fine:  
Your every Sense shall have its Magazine.  Alfr. 
To no Intemperance my Desires fly out;  
Yet in my Soul rank Sorrows firmly root;  
And there for other Bounties leave no room,  
But only those through Death's cold hands that come.  Edg. 
Betwixt your Thoughts and Death let Ages stand;  
And Happiness take from a better hand.  Alfr. 
Death, Death I want—  Edg. 
— Thus in Diana's Train  
Some Nymph would fly the shadow of a Man,  
And bear the fight of Savages alone,  
On which her Darts and dextrous Rage was thrown.  
You, from the Woods howe'er retrieved, appear  
To Man as strange, and wilfully severe;  
And from a flaming Heart as wildly fly,  
Not yielding yours should know Humanity.  
This milder Air should softer Thoughts inspire,  
And a new Sense, more kind to my Desire.  
Music howe'er may this Aversion break,  
And tame her Spirit— come, fair Nymph, partake—  
The Masque is ready— Leads her away.   

SCENE V.  Enter at the same Door her Woman, Editha meeting her, after them Lewis at a distance. Wom. 
The Danger's past that gave us this Alarm,  
The King himself securing her from Harm.  Lew. 
In what obscure and dangerous Paths I tread,  
By a blind Guide in endless Errors led!  
Like him who Pain by a false Cure escapes,  
My Ease is short, but mortal the Relapse.  
I must proceed— A tame and poorest Slave  
The Plague and dire Extremity make brave.  
If rudely I mistake in place, or time, Offers a Picture.  
With favour judge a forward duty's Crime.  
I to suspend your Expectation feared,  
And all Delay as Negligence abhorred.  Edg. 
With my Concerns had your just Duty squared,  
You this unwelcome Diligence had spared.  
The Picture does my Thoughts so little press,  
That only the Original could less.  Lew. 
The Object of your Rigour yet unknown,  
This fierce Contempt is but at random thrown.  
But when I name the Prince, and when I say,  
'Tis He whose hand does the French Sceptre sway—  Edi. 
Then all your Mien and fine Address was made,  
To gain me to a cursed Usurper's Bed;  
Whom Conscience with a silent Scourge shall tear,  
And pale-faced Ghosts from my Embraces scare;  
Whose Throne by bloody Scaffolds is upheld,  
And by Slaves guarded, who their Master killed.  Lew. 
His Throne is fixed, and the Foundation good:  
'Tis not less firm if cemented with Blood.  
Right is a Notion may the Simple sting;  
But with the Wise, Possession makes the King.  Edi. 
Your Speech a strange and insolent Doctrine bears,  
And Maxims yet unknown to English ears.  
Rather to the true Prince, (did he survive)  
'Midst his Distress, I would my person give;  
With him partake his Indigence, and Toil,  
Lurking in Holes, or wand'ring in Exile.  
Howe'er from Land to Land, from Coast to Coast,  
By restless Storms of adverse Fortune tossed,  
I'd rather with him all Disgraces bear,  
Then guilty Pomp's with your Usurper share.  Lew. 
I'm made a Convert; and relent to find  
Those generous Transports of your noble Mind.  
And envy not the Tyrant's haughty State,  
But rather his whom you commiserate,  
Howe'er forlorn, abandoned, and undone:  
Your Favours the dethroned and Banished crown.  
Since for his Loss you bear that generous sense,  
Here at your Feet behold that Injured Prince.  Edi. 
You give at once too much to be received,  
Nor can in this be suddenly believed.  
And yet your Merits so possess my Mind,  
That I believe, as by my Heart inclined:  
And to the King will strait make known your Case.  
(His greatest Pride is, Injuries to redress.)  
And he shall in your Right his Arms advance.  
Fates will that English Arms give Law to France.  Lew. 
Yet all that I, and all that they can gain,  
To me must prove, without your Favour, vain.  Edi. 
I owned your Merits in a private Dress:  
Their Lustre will not shine in Purple less. Exit Editha.   

SCENE VI.  Enter at the same Door Gunilda. Lew. 
ay, from my Kingdom, as by Shipwreck, hurled,  
Losing but Earth, find a new Golden world.  
whatever Loss or Troubles on me fall, Aside.  
Editha is a Recompense for all:  
One Jewel that alone outweighs a Crown.  Gun. 
Ah, that my Heart were to this Stranger known!  
Too much already hath with Kenneth past,  
If Words or Vows can make a Woman fast—  
But why am I regardless what of old  
Our Prophets in their Runick Rhymes foretold,  
Of what Import the world should find the Knot,  
A Danish Maid joined to a Royal Scot,  
Whose Issue throughout the whole Isle shall spread  
An Empire fixed under one only Head?  
Perhaps, for this Event a longer time is set—  
As the slow Birth of an uncommon Fate.  
Stay, Stranger— stay— suspend your present Care: To Lew.  
I for your Breast a higher Secret bear.  
A Princess loves you—  Lew. 
— You too much express,  
This, ah! you only in my Favour guests.  Gun. 
One word might serve where the Affair is nice,  
Nor ought you press to tell a Secret twice.  Lew. 
Regards she me?—  Gun. 
— Her Inclinations are  
Best known to me, her Griefs I more than share.  Lew. 
Blessed Angel, Daystar to my Happiness,  
(Since I th' Ambition of my Soul confess)  
Some Token give t' indulge a weak Belief:  
For still I struggle with black Doubts—  Gun. 
— That Strife  
Is wilfully continued. All are slow,  
And hardly learn what they are loath to know.  Lew. 
If Chemist, at his Furnace, pale, and old,  
With wishing eyes pursues his Fairy Gold;  
If famished Marr'ner from the ragged Beach,  
A Ship in view, his suppliant Arms does stretch;  
I with more ardour this Discovery trace:  
Treasure to me, and even my Life is less.  
Display the truth my Heart so hotly seeks.  Gun. 
Her Tongue, her Eyes, her every Action speaks.  Lew. 
I never from the Princess could perceive  
Aught, to encourage Hope, or Me to live.  Gun. 
Princess— his Thoughts are on Editha bend,  
And on a Rock I pour my sad Complaint. Aside.  
You have my Words, but cannot read my Sense,  
So blinded by a brighter Influence.  
Since Modesty does plainer Language fear,  
Take this— this Picture— for th' Interpreter. Gives her Picture.   

SCENE VII.  Enter Kenneth by surprise, and draws: She trembles. Lewis draws: She clings about Lewis. Ken. 
Friendship and heavens, lo I your Thunder bear,  
And shall your Justice from this Outrage clear.  Lew. 
Suspect me false— I'm ready to engage;  
Not willing, against a rash ill-grounded Rage.  
First hear—  Ken. 
— From that bright Sanctuary break,  
Nor, in those Arms, inglorious Safety seek.  
Are those white Arms and little Limbs so strong?  
Yield me that Pledge, the Witness of my Wrong—  Gun. 
And shall not I be heard?— He offers at Lewis. She clings to Kenneth.  Ken. 
— Oh powerful Breath!  
What Magic force, resistless, strong as Death,  
Disarms my Fury? My Resentment sleeps,  
And o'er my Rage a lazy Patience creeps.  
My stormy Mind by a sweet Dew appeased,  
And flagging Veins of burning Blood are eased;  
My Will by a soft Violence constrained, She lets him go.  
And I all wholly to Obedience chained.  
Yield me— yield me that fatal Pledge, with which  
She made thee, to thine own Destruction, rich.  Lew. 
To what is claimed you the just Title lose,  
Whilst to my Right you Threats and Force oppose.  
To your calm Blood I might the Gift resign;  
But if that you will have it yours,— 'tis mine—  
Since a Friend's name I cannot yet divest,  
Knowing your Pulse, I may impute the rest  
As wild Distempers of a Love unblessed.  
I am not false— nor shall your Right invade. Draws out the Picture.  Gun. 
Ungrateful! is my Honour thus betrayed? Aside.  Lew. 
Take it— and with it— this Assurance take,  
I importuned— she gave it— for your sake.  Gun. 
What sudden Shame and Trouble blots my Face?  
With how much Art he labours my Disgrace!  Ken. 
Image of her who fills and rules my Heart:  
She cruel is, insensible thou art.  
Designed for me? ah! touch that Note again:  
I hear not this, unless I hear it plain. Looking on the Picture.  
Said you, for me? I cannot hold my Joys.  
Yet Unbelief all Weights and Shackles tries.  
Her Modesty, and Conscious eyes cast down,  
Allow me not my present Bliss to own. Exit Gunilda.  
ay, though at distance, her fair Steps will trace,  
Till I obtain, or perish in the Race.  Exit Kenneth.   

ACT IV. Masque.  A tempestuous Sea is represented, Neptune heaving the Billows with his Fork. Edgar with Alfrid entering, the Tritons sound their Shells: a sudden Calm. Neptune lays his Trident at Edgar 's Feet. The other Sea-gods, Proteus and Nereus, make likewise Obeisance to him, and Proteus' speaks. Proteus. 
'Tis now, what I foretold, that th' English Oak  
By heavens of old was destined for our Yoke;  
And that our Necks no longer should be free,  
When from their Thames those Ships launch out to Sea.  Ner. 
The English Power, that cannot be withstood,  
Springs rather from their Courage, than their Wood  
And if that Valour once were ebbing found,  
The boasted Keels would basely rot aground.  Nept. 
From one great Prince how much a Nation gains!  
In every Breast his Soul and Courage reigns.  
He their glad Veins with generous Fire distends,  
And to each Heart the brave Infection sends.  
From Edgar 'tis that England's Glory grows.  Prot. 
More than one Edgar Fate to England owes.  These retiring, Triton's dance: They retiring, 3 Sirens arise out of the Sea, and sing. 

THE SONG.  1. Siren. 

LOve, the Ambrosia of the Blessed!  
'Tis Love in Heaven that makes the Feast.  
O Mortals, Mortals, come and taste.   2. Sir. 

Whilst jingling Honour strives for place,  
And Virtue sets her ugly Face,  
The Moment's, the sweet Moment's pass.   3. Sir. 
It cools, alas, how fast it cools!  
Fall to, ye men, ye men with Souls,  
And Ceremony leave to Fools.  All. 
When Nature invites,  
And keen Appetites,  
Care tearing your Hearts and tormenting,  
Is some Devil in the way,  
That creates your Delay?  
Or a Bug of some Bigott's inventing?   Three Celestial Sirens approach, skymming on the surface of the waters. The former Sirens dive hastily, and disappear. These looking after them, say, 1. Sir. 
Fly, Monsters,— fly— with your deceitful Breath,  
That warbling strikes, and pleases unto Death.  
Each tender ear even yet the Accents wound,  
And th' Air yet trembles with the impious Sound.  2. Sir. 
A Heavenly Voice, and Beauty, they profane,  
With the unblessed, abominable Train,  
Which their false boasted Pleasures does detect;  
Sweet to the Sense, but Poison in effect.  3. Sir. 
Great Edgar from those Charms is safe,  
To all, but those of Glory, deaf:  
Glory, whose Chariot drives an height  
'Bove the rude Jolt of sensual Delight,  
And hurry of low Passions. Victory  
On silver Wings, and Triumph with them fly—  These 3 dance, and after, they retiring, the Sea seems troubled. Andromeda appears tied to a Rock, a great Sea-monster making towards her. Perseus is seen in the Air, on Pegasus, with his Scimitar, and Gorgon- Shield. When Edgar abruptly starting up, turns from the Masque, and with Face towards the Pit speaks. Edg. 
Glory had once th' Ascendant, Glory's Dart  
Did from all other Flames my Breast assert;  
Which, raging, now torment my enfeebled Heart.  
A Dream of Majesty— a King no more.  
These Shows are now less Shadows, than my Power  
They represent. Love's utmost Malice tried,  
Has me dethroned, degraded, and destroyed.  
If ought survive, if ought of me remain,  
'Tis but the sense of an immortal Pain—  
Love, I obey— and Captive follow thee  
To Solitude— a fitter Scene for me.  Exit. Edgar gone, all in a consternation go of, and the Scene changes to a Garden. 

SCENE I.  Enter Lewis solus. Lewis. 
Unhappy Princes, who a just War make,  
And only Arms, when necessary, take!  
For me, yet cruel heavens determine worse;  
Against my own, to head a foreign Force.  
By those that no Allegiance owe, obeyed,  
Born to protect the Nation, I invade.  
They have the Blows, yet I partake the Pain;  
A Subject lost, in every Foe that's slain.  
My Mind's distressed, whilst my bold War succeeds;  
My Heart, at every Wound they suffer, bleeds.  
The English must my juster Cause decide,  
Whilst them I in new paths of Glory guide.  
How can the Continent their Shock sustain,  
Whose Arms even force an Empire on the Main?  
But— I shall teach them thus, perhaps, a way,  
That France may wish untaught another day,  
In France again their fatal Banners spread.  
This Heaven avert—  
I love their Virtue, but their Valour dread.  
Ambition, blunted by these soft Regrets,  
My Love provokes, and to fierce Action whets.  
'Tis not my Crown alone that I forgo,  
But with my Crown I lose Editha too.  
Let Kingdoms my Despair in Ashes mourn:  
A meaner Flame the Universe will burn.   

SCENE II.  Enter two old French Statesmen. They on their Knees say, Both. 
Long live King Lewis—  1. Statesm. 
— The Usurper gone,  
France, with one Voice, recalls you to your Throne.  
Your Absence they lament—  Lew. 
— Is Rodulph dead?  2. Statesm. 
And (to the just Reproach of Heaven) in Bed.  
Yet his black Soul did th' Air and Heaven deform,  
And dying Breath did bluster to a Storm.  
As if the Troubles (since he ceased to live)  
Which to the Earth he could no longer give,  
He still would through the Airy Regions drive.  1. Statesm. 
The Day which did his last black Night precede,  
The bloody Tyrant had your Death decreed;  
And, hearing that to th' English Court you fled,  
Sent two Ambassadors to demand your Head.  2. Statesm. 
But these things may in vacant hours be said.  
Our Bark, my Liege, waits ready, to convey  
You safe, ere Fame the Secret shall betray.  
Kings, caught on foreign Ground, are lawful Prize:  
And for a King what Ransom can suffice?  Lew. 
I my Condition may some time conceal;  
But cannot from this Court so rudely steal.  
Nor can I fear the Danger you foretell,  
Knowing the King, and English Hearts, so well.  1. Statesm. 
Their generous Minds as nobly you report:  
But who can find an Englishman at Court?  
No private Mind can any Courts control;  
All moved by Interest, their common Soul.  2. Statesm. 
Hot Places those, where Virtue cannot look;  
But withers, dies, and vanishes in Smoak.  1. Statesm. 
The private Love is ended that he bore,  
Since you are now the Private man no more.  
To ruin all, your Cause he might advance;  
And, loving you, declared his Hate to France.  2. Statesm. 
Your Kingdom he may, without Wrong, invade,  
Till Articles and formal Leagues are made.  
Friendship with Kings requires a certain Date,  
Engrossed, and sealed on Instruments of State.  
Nor this, against crafty Counsels, a Defence,  
Who weaker Words suborn against the Sense.  
To sacred Interest their bald Heads they nod:  
That they adore, and know no other God.  1. Statesm. 
Possess your Kingdom first, and then send back.  
Ambassadors, your Compliments to make.  Lew. 
Is that the Court?— Your Message does invite  
Me thither, and from thence your Maxims fright:  
Maxims, within the English Verge not known;  
Nor shall in France, whilst I possess the Throne.  
Pardon me, King, to Friendship if unjust:  
I yield unwilling to a Friend's Distrust. Aside.  
I on my Throne shall mourn with the Disgrace,  
If in your Breast I forfeited my place.  
Attend me there, till I in such Disguise Points to a distant place.  
Return, as shall deceive observing Eyes.  Exeunt Statesmen.  

SCENE III.  Lewis solus. 
For my Ambition Fortune could no more:  
Yet am I, after all this Fortune, poor.  
Ambition is not all— I will not move  
One Step from hence, till prosperous in my Love.  
No Power, no Sceptres shall allure me hence.  
Love too shall feast, though at my Pride's expense.  
Blessed Omen— see— her Image strikes mine Eyes—  
Heaven guides her hither—   

SCENE IU.  Enter Editha. 
— Madam,— To Editha.  Edi. 
— That false Tongue  
No more I'll hear—  Lew. 
— Alas! I Triumph sung Aside.  
Too hasty, cheated by an empty Dream.  
Yet, free from Gild, I may the Tempest stem. To Editha.  Edi. 
An Innocence presume not to persuade:  
These Eyes beheld the Conference which you had,  
The strict new League and Interchanges made.  Lew. 
She saw me with Gunilda late embroiled,  
When Kenneth was in the same Error toiled. Aside.  
What League? what Conference?—  Edi. 
— New Allies to make  
With Strangers, where new Fires you give and take.  
Go— amongst the Hearts by your feigned Love engrossed;  
Go— and Editha in the Number boast. She offers to go; he stops her.  Lew. 
Let Heaven not own, nor Earth sustain me more,  
If God, or Mistress, I, save one, adore.  
Both which by me too rudely were profaned,  
If, whilst in presence here of both I stand,  
I durst be false—  Edi. 
— She present? Also She  
Is some invisible Divinity.  Lew. 
Around she does such dazzling Lustre shed,  
Even, like the Sun, in her own Beams she's hid;  
And o'er all other Beauties bears such Sway,  
They disappear, like the Stars feeble Ray,  
Drowned in the Light and Deluge of the Day.  Edi. 
The Path I marked, your wary Language shuns,  
And, safely wide, a wild Vagary runs.  
You traverse not the Charge against you laid,  
But would by cunning Sophistry evade.  
Me, your ill-timed and daubing Flatteries paint,  
When, for yourself, you a just Colour want.  
But injured Friendship why should I relate?  
You must contest with Generous Kenneth that.  
All— All will in Gunilda be repaid:  
And Denmark now comes bustling to your Aid.  
Yet though to th' English you the Dane prefer,  
I envy not your Arms successful War.  
For, your good Cause (whoever shall assist)  
Will my best Wishes on your Party list.  Lew. 
From a wronged Friendship I've no Blemish drawn,  
And for Success, that rests on You alone.  
Your favourable Wishes give me more,  
Then they, my Crown and Kingdom who restore.  
Kingdoms by Marks and narrow Bounds confined,  
You fill the vast Ambition of my Mind.  Edi. 
When with armed Threats you should th' Usurper brave,  
You vainly like an idle Lover rave.  Lew. 
Is there a Secret I may not impart  
To Her who holds in Custody my Heart?  
Th' Usurper's dead; now for Relief I wait  
At your Hands only.—  Edi. 
— I congratulate  
The Happiness of your recovered Throne.  Lew. 
No Kingdom I, without your Favour, own.  Edi. 
This is a Copy of your private Mind:  
You'll scarce the Record in your Kingdom find.  
When Royal Cares once fill your larger Breast,  
No place remains for any foreign Guest.  Lew. 
My Dignity will not my Guest discharge;  
But rather furnish, and the Room enlarge.  
Which since your Image does so nobly grace,  
Majesty will a brighter Power confess, Gunilda comes.  
And yield to you the Consecrated place.  Edi. 
She by Appointment comes— false man— where She  
Attends the Love, you practised but on Me—  
I leave you to Her— Exit Editha.  Lew. 
— The same Path I take.  
I must the Chain of these Suspicions break. Exit Lewis.   

SCENE V.  Gunilda looking on a Letter. Gun. 
My Brother— how?— Deposed, and Sigar reigns—  
His Title owned by the perfidious Danes—  
Fortune and Fate, what have I now to claim?  
The wand'ring Shadow of an empty Name.  
Speedy Assistence he from Kenneth craves.  
See how (unknowing) he my Folly braves.  
See— the just Curse— on my Inconstancy:  
And lo a Victim, injured Love, to thee.  
Now will the Scots about me fleering run,  
And to vile Pipes my sad Disasters tune.  
Yet, spite of Fortune, I this Sceptre hold:  
With this in Hand, I will not be controlled. Pulls out a Dagger.  
By this, within, an Empire I maintain,  
And there, unmoved, a perfect Princess reign.   

SCENE VI.  Enter Kenneth. Ken. 
Can any Trouble, Princess, touch your Breast,  
And mine not sink beneath the Load oppressed?  
Disclose, fair Princess, your sharp Grief disclose.  
I know the Pain, a stranger to the Cause.  Gun. 
Read this, and laugh— Do you, before the rest, Gives him the Letter: he reads.  
Of fresh Revenge the rasie Pleasure taste.  Ken. 
'Tis done— swift Orders I dispatch, and all  
The Kingdom to our Royal Standard call.  
In Person I will join them on the Shoar:  
Nor will I wait a Wind to waft us o'er.  
Nor will I rest, till, Sigar's Faction quelled,  
The Throne again is by your Brother filled.  Gun. 
I stand astonished at your forward Heat,  
You have not weighed half my Misfortune yet.  
To your feigned Love what lighted first the way,  
Our Riches, are the ravenous syrant's prey.  
Despised, despoiled of all, Gunilda see;  
Nor with her Portion, save in Misery.  Ken. 
Give me Gunilda, and no Want I fear:  
No other Wealth deserves a Monarch's Care.  
Leave the gross Fuel for ignoble Fires:  
A fairer Prey does nourish my Desires.  Gun. 
Your Language has that generous sense displayed,  
As but too much my Errors does upbraid,  
And Constancy, so easily shaken, tax.  Ken. 
Heaven ne'er made that a Virtue of the Sex.  
Ah! look not back, when present Joys invite,  
And Hymen calls with thousand Torches light.  Gun. 
'Tis Love alone has right those Joys to boast:  
But Love would here in Gratitude seem lost.  Ken. 
Deep Gratitude the firm Foundation lies;  
Whilst we behold Love's glorious Structure rise.  
There will we reign— there drink eternal Joys—  
And, touching Heaven, the low dull World despise.  Gun. 
On equal Grounds I your Desires would meet,  
But Fortune thrusts me now below your Feet:  
Which makes my Love suspected, and that I,  
Against my Choice, forced by Necessity,  
Forsaken, hopeless, broken by Distress,  
Into your Arms, as my last Refuge, press.  
No; Malice, I thy hissing Snakes defy,  
Thus armed— none e'er was wretched that could die. Dagger in hand.  
I in my Heart can no Retrenchment find,  
Nor have I lost one Atom of my Mind,  
Nor will in aught diminished to you come.  Ken. 
Frail Riches gone— to Courage left the Room. Enter Edgar.  Edg. 
What Discord? Lovers— speak— let me decide—  
But leave me— 'las! I am, within, employed  
Too much myself—  Exeunt Ken. and Gunilda.  

SCENE VII.  Edgar solus. 
— How tedious turns the Wheel  
Of Time? how slow— where men in Torments dwell?  
One Day would make Eternity in Hell—  
To me this Instant that Long day has been:  
Hell I have felt, for something Heavenly seen.  
Ethelwold found some other of the Name:  
This, She who rides on the white wings of Fame.  
And I may This, the True, my Alfrid claim—  
My giddy Thoughts run wild, and rave about;  
My Mind is all Distraction: I will shut,  
Shut close my Eyes— lock the deceitful Door—  
I will not see— come near— think on her more—   

SCENE VIII.  Alfrid in Man's habit, as Edgar goes in haste, from behind a Bush runs against him. 
My Mind's unhindged, and the whole Fabric shakes:  
This Boy my laboured Resolution breaks.  Alfr. 
Fate sees through my Disguise, and makes me run Aside.  
Into his very Arms, I strive to shun.  Edg. 
I in this Face the matchless Alfrid see.  
heavens! are ye not her Brother?— Should he be,  
Mad, and inconstant, what were that to me?  
Are you?— the bashful Grace— the pretty Fear,  
All Alfrid, Alfrid to my Soul endear.  
Sympathy is't, or some new Charm, does seize,  
Ravish my Breast, and violently please?  
Insensibly on me the Poison stole;  
'Tis now within, and mingles with my Soul—  
Oh Fire! oh Rage! oh certainly Divine,  
No humane power could thus— could thus disjoin,  
And fix, even in the Centre of my Life.  
Sense— Reason— vain and fruitless is your Strife,  
In vain contesting that this is not She.  
'Tis— and by Heaven designed a Part of Me;  
My dearest— inmost Part— Thus hurried on,  
Ah! whither will my raving Fancy run?—  
You are her Brother.—  Alfr. 
— She no Brother had:  
The only Child was that unhappy Maid.  Edg. 
Then, you have known her—  Alfr. 
— Seen her heretofore.  Edg. 
I saw, admired, and ne'er examined more.  
Whom does she blessed with name of Parents make?  Alfr. 
The Duke of Cornwall doth that Name partake.  Edg. 
Your Words directly to that Alfrid lead,  
Whom I and all my Stars had mine decreed.  
Shall His Embraces that bright Form profane,  
Whom Sacrilege and blackest Treasons slain;  
Who this Affront to Me and Heaven durst give,  
Yet after have the Impudence to Live?  
But, Traitor, I thy Fraud shall counterplot:  
I will untie, or surely cut the Knot—  
My Title's good: He courted her,— he sped,—  
And did her, only, as my Proxy bed.  Alfr. 
The Ceremony went not yet so far:  
She, by strict Oath, engaged him to forbear  
The Marriagebed, till that three Nights were passed:  
Of which three Nights, this following is the last.  Edg. 
Heaven, this great Work is thine, thy Care I see,  
Since Alfrid is reserved entire for me—  
I'll search her out—  Going, meets Ethelwold, stops, and looks angry on him.  

SCENE IX.  Ethel. 
— Restore, restore my Wife—  
Or take, what I can better want, my Life.  Edg. 
Thy Wife?— what jealous Frenzy turns his Brain?  
Where is this Wife?— where is she?— But refrain  
From calling Alfrid so; that Claim forbear,  
And ne'er presume to make a Title there.  
Where is my Alfrid?— Ethelwold seizes her.  
— This is her Disguise.  
What fatal Mist concealed her from my Eyes?  
What time was lost?— Blind to my Happiness,  
I pine, and die, yet what I want possess.  
Monster of Impudence, yield— yield— her me. Snatches her. Ethelw. draws.  Ethelw. 
I owe no Faith to naked Majesty.  
Without his Guards King's but an empty Word:  
The sceptre's his who wields the better Sword.  Edgar makes at him, throws him down, disarms him. Edg. 
Live, wretched man!— thy Crimes do thee pursue,  
And former Gild still spurs thee on to new.  
Live— but depart— and leave this Pledge with me.  Ethelw. 
A low, base Soul would call this Clemency.  
The Crimes I acted were on Alfrid's score:  
And, were it in my power, I'd push at more.  
You grant me Life, (a Gift that I despise,)  
And rob me of the only thing I prise.  
I'll call her Mine with my last Gasp of breath, Grasps her.  
And with cold Arms still grasp her after Death.  Edg. 
By Fraud you got, and would by Force maintain.  
Let not too far thy mad Presumption strain.  
Can I see this?— Takes her from him.  Alfr. 
— Let not your Royal Hand  
By a rash man's distempered Blood be stained.  
If Alfrid's Tears may any thing avail,  
Ah! let not now their Intercession fail.  Edg. 
Your Words with me such Sway shall always bear,  
Those you may trust, and need not waste a Tear.  
But plead not, Heaven did you together knit:  
Heaven ne'er could be a Party to the Cheat.  Alfr. 
This sudden Passion with the Day arose;  
And now may with the setting Sun repose.  
The silent Night, and Sleeps refreshing Dew,  
May to your troubled Mind its Calms renew.  
You than what's fit more clearly may discern:  
And I a Virtuous Wife's Obedience learn.  
Though you may charge my Marriage with Deceit,  
Yours stands a firm irrefragable Lett.  Edg. 
Were She more close preserved, then, feigned by Greece,  
Th' Hesperian Gold, or the Phryxean Fleece,  
By watching Dragons, fiery Bulls secured,  
Amongst Rocks of Brass or Adamant immured,  
Or amongst eternal Ice beyond the Pole;  
Did stormy Seas of Fire about her roll;  
Yet would I trust to Love's almighty Power,  
And heavens high Aid more confident implore.  
She (though within my Arms by Fortune put)  
Stands inaccessible, and more remote.  
Ah, Virtue too severe! too plainly I  
The Flaming Sword, the angry Guardian see,  
And Paradise for ever shut to me—  
Yet surely I a certain Door discern;  
The Bars give back, and easy Hinges turn.  
Reason exalts a fair conspicuous Head,  
And beckons me to where my Wishes lead;  
And tells, that yet no perfect Marriage past:  
Nor I, by other Ceremony fast—  
With you, alone by Proxy, firmly tied:  
Which Contract good, makes all the following void.  Alfr. 
Blind with Desire, we each faint Glimmering watch;  
And, for sound Reason, empty Shadows catch.  
If for your Agent Ethelwold was meant,  
I, as his own, did give him my Consent;  
Did give my Hand, did solemn Words repeat,  
Designing nothing to equivocate.  
Though, by your Plea amused, my Reason bow,  
My Conscience will no other Husband know.  Edg. 
From all your Doubts I shall your Conscience clear:  
Mine is the Law, and the Interpreter.  
Nor must I now your Inclinations fear?  
Are they unjust?—   

SCENE X.  Enter Ethelgede. Ethelgede. 
— The guilty Couple flies,  
Not daring stand th' Encounter of mine Eyes. They turn away. She makes up to them.  
'Tis Virtue makes me bold: the Name of Queen  
I coldly wear, whilst Alfrid thrusts between  
Me and the Substance. Up to Justice yield  
This Sorceress, long and wrongfully withheld To Edgar.  
From me, and from her Lord, my Father. ay,  
In both your Ears, the Law— the Law— will cry.  Edg. 
I shall not here allege a Sovereign's Will,  
Nor, by your Father's Rules, be justly Ill:  
Whose dangerous Pencil would all Monarches draw,  
With Sword in Hand, and at their Feet the Law.  Ethelg. 
They to your Royal Hand the Sword who join,  
By the same right, a Dagger place in mine. Pulls out a Dagger.  
Which her Heart's Blood shall feel—  Edg. 
— I will not hear  
These Threats, far hence the empty Flashes bear.  Ethelg. 
Is not my Rage, though from your Person tied,  
Strong, and let loose on all the World beside?  
This, as a Queen, I will not be denied.  Edg. 
Leave her— I almost took into my Bed To Alfrid. Exeunt.  
This Wasp—  Ethelg. 
— This Wasp shall sting your Minion dead.   

SCENE XI.  Ethelgede sola. 
Fall on, fall on, Sword, Poison, Thunder, Hell;  
The Earth, Air, Seas, with Death and Horror fill.  
Each Curse, each Plague, my roused Revenge shall try.  
Furies,— Medea,— hear— assist me: I  
Have the same Cause, have the same perfect Will;  
I only— only want the Godlike Skill.  
And can no Devil inspire my ready Breast?—  
My Spirit groans with Magic Rage oppressed.—  
Start not the Rocks, nor aged Mountains reel?—  
Nor yet my Might does the cleft Centre feel?  
The Poles, the Stars on heaps, th' affrighted Moon,  
On All— on All— my hot Revenge is thrown.  
Oh!— I have found where I can pain him most:  
He shall no more his Wooden Castles boast,  
His Naval Glory, dearest Darling pride.  
Even in the Harbours whilst secure they ride,  
See, on each Hulk a fiery Storm is hurled,  
And rising Flames around the Topmast curled,  
Dismally bright, illustrate Edgar's World.  
He— pours out Sighs— and casts— an helpless Look—  
And now— his Eyes are melting with the Smoke.  Exit.   

ACT V.  

SCENE I. Garden.  Alfrid, Woman with the Light. Alfr. 
PRess me no more, nor Arguments pursue,  
Too taking sweet, too flattering to be true.  Wom. 
The Gown agrees, and all Opinions join,  
You are th' undoubted, only lawful, Queen.  Alfr. 
Riches and Honour glaring in their sight,  
The Doctors squint, and rarely see aright.  
A surer Guide Heaven for my Conduct made.  Wom. 
But thus the Snare to your Advantage laid,  
Who would not wink, and wish herself betrayed?  Alfr. 
Leave tempting me, the glorious Hour is nigh.  Wom. 
What Hour?—  Alfr. 
— The Hour— our Hellborn Jealousy,  
Tormenting Doubts, and vain Desires shall die.  Wom. 
What mean these Words? how dismally they sound?  Alfr. 
I to the King am by fast Promise bound,  
To meet him here: I shared his amorous Grief;  
And for his Pains did thus design Relief.  Wom. 
Hear I this Language from your Mouth escape?  
Rather the Fruit of lawful Process reap.  
Before the World you might enjoy your Will;  
Yet rather seek the false Delight to steal,  
Waving a Title authorised by Day.  Alfr. 
Let not your Thoughts these black Surmises sway.  
Though in the Dark, I shall not lose my Way.  
Go— and beseech the Queen immediately:  
Beseech her hither:— go— without Reply.  Exit Woman.  

SCENE II.  Alfrid. Alfr. 
Tempted with all the Charms of Royal State,  
Something I find, I can more highly rate:  
Some Sense I feel, some Grudge still remain.  
And yet Ambition murmurs; but in vain,  
Where Virtue, a more noble Pride, does reign.  
My Innocence more solid Glory brings,  
Then from the Pomp of guilty Greatness springs.  
This gives me Courage: in this Fort secure,  
I all the Storms of Jealous Rage endure—  
My sending for the Queen, I fear, may be  
Misconstrued, as a rude Affront, in me.   

SCENE III.  Enter Ethelgede, and Woman. Ethelgede. 
Provoked by this outrageous Insolence,  
I come:— but 'tis to punish your Offence.  Alfr. 
Necessity, and the Occasion known,  
You will not on my humble Duty frown.  
To a few Words vouchsafe a patient Ear,  
And after let me your Displeasure bear.  Ethelg. 
Then speak—  Alfr. 
— Knowing what Grief your Mind does sting,  
Suspicious of my Conduct with the King—  Ethelg. 
Say, I suspect your Villainy, I see't,  
I know it all—  Alf. 
— Behold me at your Feet. Knelt.  Ethelg. 
What feigned Remorse, what Strategem is here?  Alfr. 
By all in Heaven we Sacred call, I swear,  
I am to You and to my Honour Just,  
And here presume to vanquish your Distrust.  
This Night your Grief and painful Doubts shall clear:  
In these dark Paths your Wishes shall not err,  
Permitting my Advice to be your Guide.  Ethelg. 
Rise— and no longer this strange Secret hide.  Alfr. 
This day I in a Labyrinth have worn,  
Where still I met the King at every turn.  
Within, some stubborn Conflict shakes his Breast,  
(For this his Words and every Look confessed.)  
But whither his distracted Motions lead,  
You better guests, who have in Courts been bred.  
Yet lest to me he might some Favour aim,  
Which you alone by Marriage-right may claim—  Ethelg. 
What now remains? be short.—  Alfr. 
— Within this Hour,  
He in the Dark will trace me to that Bower.  
There We together may his Coming wait.  
And lest your Silence any Doubt create;  
My Voice shall him, as he approaches, guide,  
Whilst silently into his Arms you glide.  
And having once assuaged his Amorous Heat,  
He will applaud the innocent Deceit:  
And your Embraces such Success may find,  
As to your Love may him for ever bind.  Ethelg. 
The Secrets out:— yet will not this atone  
For all the Ill by your Enchantments done.  
An Injured Love can never be repaired.  
For this Night my Revenge shall be deferred,  
And you shall take the Respite for Reward.  
The King has all the day in Darkness been;  
Else you had not been courted for the Queen.  Alfr. 
You cannot yet your Jealousies digest:  
Something yet swells, and boils within your Breast.  
But I can better your Reproaches bear,  
Then from the glorious Paths of Virtue err.  
Despise, abhor, affront, abuse me still;  
I shall not be, for your Requital, iii.  
Forbear, and let us to the Place be gone,  
Lest his Impatience slower Time outrun.  Exeunt.  

SCENE IU.  Enter Edgar. He appears at the Door with the Secretary of State, as importuned by him; but breaks from him, and after some steps, stops. Edg. 
Heaven taxes Greatness with proportioned Care:  
A King not one Day to himself can spare.  
By a new Pain and wild Distractions crossed,  
This, almost, I insensible have lost.  
Yet I this Minute from my Love may snatch.  
What rests unfinished, that requires Dispatch? Turns to the Secretary.  Secret. 
The Scots in Arms against their King declare,  
For yielding to become your Homager.  
The Welsh rebel, and this Advantage take,  
From their stiff Neck the English Yoke to shake.  Edg. 
Or rather, struggling, it uneasy make.  
What else requires our Care?—  Secret. 
— Within, still wait  
The French Ambassadors, importunate  
For your last Answer.—  Edg. 
— That they had before—  
If not yet pleased, conduct them to the Door.  Exit Secretary.  

SCENE V.  Edgar solus. 
My warmer Blood, and Spirits that briskly fly,  
Inform me that the happy Hour is nigh;  
And from my Breast all public Cares would fling.  
The Man— I feel— grows stronger than the King.  
Yet more— one Minute's Truce for public Good—  
I'll shake thee off— Rebellious Flesh and Blood.  
That Minute past— then Passions take your swing,  
Till the King's Work is done— I will be King.   

SCENE VI.  Enter Secretary with Ambassadors. Edg. 
I must be short; I all that you demand, To Embass.  
Already, and your Reasons, understand.  
The Titular King, your Master's Enemy,  
You say, did here to Sanctuary fly.  
Too far your Power and blind Revenge would stretch,  
If you would those in my Protection reach.  
But if that Injured Prince (to me unknown)  
Were here, my Kingdom should be as his own:  
My Crown should lie at stake till his were won.  
I would, and in such manner, send him back,  
As on his Throne should the proud Rebel shake.  
You next crave Leave (which modestly is done)  
To build a little Navy of your own.  
Which to persuade, your Reasons are no more,  
Then mine for building Castles on your Shoar.  
In my Dominions (nor th' Indulgence slight)  
I give you Leave to Traffic, not to Fight.  
I shall your Trade against Piracies ensure,  
If Forty hundred Sail the Seas can scour.  
But I am told, ere this Address was made,  
You the Foundation of this Fleet had laid.  
And then I, in your Compliments return,  
Must send one Ship shall your Armado burn.  
Not that we value all your Naval Power.  
Could every Ship, like Fish, spawn Thousands more;  
We should chastise and check the monstrous Brood.  
Our Trees bewitched, and cursed were in the Bud,  
If English Oak dreads aught that's made of Wood   

SCENE VII.  Sergeants enter, with Lewis bound in Disguise. Sergeants. 
We took him in Disguise, prepared to fly—  Edg. 
I'll hear no more— This Opportunity  
Is welcome, since I in some measure may To Lew.  
The Honour, I too long have owed you, pay.  
You shall be Admiral; and, for greater State,  
Ten hundred Frigates on your Flag shall wait,  
To burn, or see their Infant-Navy knocked  
To pieces, e'er on the Salt waves 'tis rocked.  
Myself will forthwith your Commission seal. Exeunt all.   

SCENE VIII.  Ethelwold solus, with Dagger in hand. Ethelw. 
A timely Chance the Secret did reveal.  
With This I'll guard the Treasures you would steal.  
Another reaps my Harvest, whilst I starve:  
For my Part, only Husks and Chaff they carve.  
I must forbear her Bed— by Oath made Poor;  
And here in secret she breaks up the Store.  
How intricate the Heart of Woman is!  
No Eye, no Sun can pierce the dark Abyss.  
I yet will share— Howe'er she may deny  
My Love— ay my Revenge will satisfy.  
With This I'll force her— till that Heat I cloy; Holds Dagger.  
And through the Body I'll her Soul enjoy.  
I will lie close— and with one free Homethrust,  
Assuage both her insatiate Pride and Lust.  
I'th' Dark, and with my Own, I may be bold.  
The next shall find his Entertainment cold.  
The King's Embraces give her Ecstasies:  
In Mine she more effectually dies. Exit.   

SCENE IX.  Enter Edgar; a Soldier presses after him with a Torch. Edg. 
Press me no farther— ay command— withdraw.  Sould. 
I'll speak— and then your Anger undergo.  Edg. 
What is't you with this rude Impatience crave?  Sould. 
'Tis Loyal Rudeness, that your Life would save—  
This way I heard a Man,—  
He gnashed his Teeth with Discontent,  
And raved, and muttered Treason, as he went.   

SCENE X.  Enter Alfrid running; looks earnestly on the King. Alfr. 
A Man (I thought it had your Highness been)  
Seized, and has barbarously slain the Queen. Enter Woman.  Wom. 
The Murderer too fell with her; I discerned,  
And heard, methought, the Stabs that she returned.  
Broken with Throbs, she these Last words did strain,  
Take, bloody Tyrant— take thy Gift again.  Edg. 
Who can expound this bloody Mystery?  
Her Words say, in her Thoughts she murdered Me.  
'Las! not by Malice, but Revenge inflamed,  
At her Assassin, not the King, she aimed.  
Our Bubble-Hopes! most brittle, when most fair!  
Which swelling shine, and vanish into Air.   

SCENE XI.  Enter Guards, Lights, Lewis, Kenneth, etc. Sould. 
Her Father, (whate'er Fury spurred him on) Soldier returns.  
Duke Ethelwold, this horrid thing hath done.  Edg. 
Duke Ethelwold?—  Sould. 
— In their mixed Gore he swims,  
And with stiff Arms still grasps her congealed Limbs.  Alfr. 
My cruel Stars this fatal Train have laid;  
And to the Snare I have the Queen betrayed.  Edg. 
You guilty?— it a blacker Crime would seem,  
To suspect You— then 'twas to murder Them.  
No bloody Stain on your bright Form impressed,  
Nor on these Hands can any Gild be traced. Takes her by the hand.  Alfr. 
'Las! I the Queen to your Embraces sent:  
And see how Fate has wrested mine Intent.  Edg. 
Fate, or the Hand of Providence, appears;  
And now the rugged Walk to my Contentment clears.  
Heaven has unravelled now the dark Decree;  
And the high Source of my just Love I see;  
By Ethelwold and humane Cunning crossed,  
Till he in his deep Policy is lost.  
'Las! I forgive him— who but, for her sake,  
All Loyalty and strongest Ties would break?  
This is an happy unexpected Leap: To Alfrid.  
Now, Innocent, I all my Wishes reap.  
Now, Alfrid's Mine, my now undoubted Right;  
For ever Mine, for ever my Delight.  Lew. 
Now in an Hour to brave Desires so just,  
I will not the Success of mine Distrust.  
This I give back into your Royal Hands. Gives up his Commission.  Edg. 
This seems as in Contempt of our Commands:  
Or, that great Souls in Dangers most delight,  
And, void of those, the easy Honour slight.  Lew. 
Your Highness will more just my Scruples rate,  
Informed who 'tis you did Commissionate:  
The King of France— behold him in your Power.  Edg. 
In what thick Darkness wandered I before?  
Are you that Injured Prince?—  Lew. 
— Th' Usurper dead,  
France has at length my Juster Title weighed,  
And owned me King, while I am Vassal here.  Edg. 
That, from the English, you unkindly fear.  
Shall We your generous Confidence abuse?  
A nobler Course to Greatness here we choose.  Lew. 
No Greatness e'er was equal to your Mind,  
Like Heaven, by nothing but itself confined.  
Whose Actions such illustrious Aspect bear,  
That Monarches, who would copy them, despair.  Edg. 
For my Reply I shall not Language seek;  
My Deeds will more effectually speak.  
Whilst here my Court is honoured with your Stay,  
In all with Me You equally shall sway.  
And when for France you quit the English Shore,  
Half of my Navy shall conduct you o'er.  
Two thousand Frigates, in the Downs that ride,  
Shall all be on that glorious Work employed.  Lew. 
Yet, for all this, I rest that desperate Slave,  
Whom (I may say) not all your Power can save.  
Your Royal Bounty on the Wretch is lost;  
By a severer Power your Sentence crossed:  
A Power, that now, even in your Presence, reigns,  
And, whilst you Freedom grant, condemns to Chains.  Edg. 
Some Vision checks the Freedom I approve.  Lew. 
What you this empty Vision call, is Love.  Edg. 
A King of France, and doubtful of his Claim?  
All Hearts must melt before that sovereign Flame.  Lew. 
You will except, when I Editha name.  Edg. 
I freely that Alliance shall embrace:  
And where can she her Love more nobly place?  
Thus Fortune both my Sisters will advance:  
That, Germane Empress; This, the Queen of France.  
And if, like me, she balances Desert,  
With a less Crown she might accept your Heart.  Lew. 
Yet, Madam, yet is your Consent denied:  
My Joys would flow, your Rigour checks the Tide.  Edi. 
The Splendours of a Kingdom fill your Eyes:  
Each Object else beneath your Prospect lies.  Lew. 
Were all the Glory of the World in view,  
I should be blind to All the rest, but You.  
A Kingdom, then Content to me can yield,  
When your fair Hand shall the same Sceptre wield.  
I rather here would lie, fixed at your Feet,  
Then in a Throne from You divided sit.  Edi. 
You, whilst eclipsed, may think an Object bright,  
That will shine dim, when you regain your Light.  
When Crowned, and on your Throne, consult your Mind:  
Thence (if you still these Inclinations find)  
They may be more authentically expressed,  
In Pomp of solemn Embassy addressed.  Edg. 
The King himself, his own Ambassador,  
What can contribute to your Honour more?  
He must not wait, with tedious Forms amused;  
But as a King, and as my Friend, be used.  Edi. 
Statesmen abroad, maliciously wise,  
Will say, we make of the French King a Prize:  
That he, with vile Advantage basely trapped,  
By Marriage, only other Bonds escaped.  Edg. 
These Difficulties you so nicely move,  
Are none; or are, however, none to Love. Gives him her hand.  
Take her— one Hour— one Priest our Hands may join;  
And the same Stars shall on our Nuptials shine.  Ken. 
Your Will, Great Sir, must ever be obeyed,  
When you Command, or when you but Persuade.  
Would you, on my behalf, exert your Power,  
This too might prove My favourable Hour.  
For Me, with fair Gunilda interpose.  Edg. 
This Conduct an excessive Passion shows,  
And in your Breast does such a Flame confess,  
That the Combustion in your Kingdom's less.  Ken. 
That Trouble's past, and our Repose is due  
To the great Genius that still waits on You.  
The Rebel Force all met in a large Field,  
Which to the Sea does a near Prospect yield.  
There as they trained, and exercised for Fight,  
Your Navy came to Anchor in their sight:  
Which through the Crowd a conquering Terror sent,  
Whose conscious Minds suspected the Intent;  
Hence mutiny, and, the chief Leaders slain,  
They left their Arms as Lumber on the Plain.  Edg. 
Then may we calculate the Fate of Wales,  
Since their Support and Hope of Scotland fails.  Gun. 
Ah! labour not— nor to low Objects bend To Kenn.  
His Nobler Thoughts, which public Care attend.  
The Pleas of Love allow of no Appeal;  
And the more pressed, the more my Resolutions swell.  Edg. 
I know the Scruple, where Gunilda sticks;  
And must that generous Sullenness unfix.  
My Coffers shall with Interest repay,  
As charged on me, what Fortune took away.  
To the Scotch Foot, Ten thousand English Horse  
Shall strait be joined, the Rebel Danes to force.  
To this I add, whilst your two Lives remain,  
Both Homage-free and absolute shall reign;  
And henceforth shall to England only come  
In Friendship's name—  Ken. 
— Oh thou, our better Doom, To Edgar.  
As Heaven serene, resistless strong as Fate!  Gun. 
Not Hercules was ever feigned so great,  
Nor that Redress to humane Wrongs could give; To Edgar.  
heavens Steward, Champion, Representative.  Edg. 
'Tis done— Ken. takes her by the hand.  
By no Conjunction Heaven could yet essay,  
What, Princes we, by our joint Nuptials may,  
To make one great and memorable Day.  As they are going off,  

SCENE Ult.  Enter Dunstan. Dunst. 
By Fame instructed, I am hither led,  
To warn you, that you must not Alfrid wed. To Edgar.  Edg. 
Not Alfrid wed? that stabs me at the Ear:  
What murdering Oracle is this I hear?  
So many Storms Heaven suffered me to scape,  
Now thunders on me with an After-clap.  
Not Alfrid wed? the Mystery unfold:  
What Law? what Book? what Spirit this has told?  
Has Heaven for me done Miracles in vain?  
I'm in a Pit, and thought the Passage plain.  
Dampt are my Hopes, and all my Joys are fled.  
Where is that Text, I must not Alfrid wed?  Dun. 
When the Church took her first within the Pale,  
You for her Christian Carriage stood as Bail:  
And so assisting to Regenerate,  
Rest in Degree, as Father who Begat,  
By Spiritual Relation.—  Edg. 
— Has th' Offence  
No higher Source, I with myself dispense.  
Must I from Rocks and certain Danger quit,  
Now in the Port, and on a Pibble, split?  
Is that a Law t' obtrude upon a King?  
Whence does the pinching Obligation spring?  
'Tis not a Law in God's or Nature's Book.  Dunst. 
On Rome, and on the Holy Canons look.  
These must command, where God and Nature's mute;  
And that Command no Temporal Prince dispute.  
Provoke not from the Holy Chair a Curse.  Edg. 
If Caesar lived, could I be threatened worse?  
I will that Curse in the mid Ocean meet,  
And against it try the fortune of a Fleet.  
Dare you preach here what any Laws define, Exit Dunstan.  
That are not shown under God's Hand or Mine?  Lew. 
You bravely act, what others only think,  
Who low beneath th' encroaching Deluge sink,  
Overwhelmed and dampt by Superstitious Fear;  
You're truly King, and keep the Character.  Kenn. 
Kings their Just Rights to know from You shall gain,  
And, those Just Rights, a Courage to maintain.  Edg. 
No harsh Disputes must our ripe Joys allay.  
Now Love and Triumph challenge all the Day.    
The End.   

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