822 
 
 T38b 
 
 1832 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/battleofeddingto00penn_0 
 

 TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 WILLIAM PITT, 8cc. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 HILE the successful endea- 
 vours of Majesty to protect the fine arts, and 
 of Administration to increase the wealth and 
 prosperity of the country, induce the English- 
 man himself to lay aside his gloom, and confess 
 the present period the most brilliant in its an- 
 nals, it will 7iot seem extraordinary that I 
 should hope to throw lustre, by its dedication 
 to a first Minister, of eminent character, and 
 great abilities, on a drama, which may recall 
 to the recollection of their descendants that 
 noble work of a patriotic kmg and people 
 ( im itated lately by Poland ), the first atte?npt, 
 though effectual, to frame a government upon 
 the principles of reason . 
 
 Not long since it could only be 7ny ambition 
 to address myself, in the language, of encou- 
 
[ 6 ] . 
 
 ragement, to yoUy as to the most conspicuous 
 champion of a cause which had not put its 
 fortune to the trials by resisting attempts to 
 restore a species of government which has 
 failed, in place of one which has succeeded in 
 this country. Surrounding nation^s yet doubted 
 bow far the good sense of England would go ; 
 I rejoice now in using that of congratulation 
 on the subsequent proofs of steadiness -and 
 loyalty they have received, and on a victory 
 capable of inspiring you with that confidence 
 in your strength, by which a Minister of your 
 qualities will not be lulled to security, but ani- 
 mated to fresh exertions. 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 SIR, 
 
 fFith due respect, 
 
 Tour most obedient 
 and most humble Servant, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
MEJY. 
 
 Alfred, king of England, 
 
 Mervin, ids dependdnt, a prince of South Wales* 
 
 E their ed, general of the English* 
 
 Ceolupk, a treacherous English nolle , 
 
 A Danish captain of auxiliaries, brought to the 
 Daius from Ireland* 
 
 Ceoluplis vassal* 
 
 Chorus of Attendants on the Queen* 
 
 Guards, Soldiers, &c* 
 
 WOMEK 
 
 Elsitha, queen of England* 
 
 A Woman inhabiting the cottage* 
 
 
 Scene. Broken and woody in the foreground, 
 where a cottage stands* In the distant country, 
 remains of convents and churches destroyed by 
 the Danes* 
 

 ^ j 
 
 t 
 
 
 ■ i 
 
 
 it \ 
 
 ) 
 
 
 P 
 
 / , 
 
 \ 
 
THE 
 
 BATTLE OF EDDINGTON; 
 
 OR, 
 
 BRITISH LIBERTY. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Enter the English^ driving the Danes before them; 
 afterwards^ with swords drawn. 
 
 Mervin, E their ed. 
 
 ETHELRED. 
 
 At length, impell’d by our prevailing arms, 
 The lawless hosts give way, and o’er the plain 
 Soft-hearted pity marks the route, with smiles 
 At victory’s quiet hour,' in thought delightful. 
 Thus far be praise to heav’ri ! The Danish lord 
 Stands not our charge, but, as the panic spreads, 
 (Thou saw’ St him, Mervin) flies from man to 
 man. 
 
 Forbidding fear, but vainly, and retreats 
 
Still as he cheers them, with well acted boldness. 
 If fortune stay, rapine shall yield her gains, 
 
 And leave th’ invaded isle to peace and Alfred. 
 Merv. Yes. Now, brave Ethelred, 'what ho- 
 nour flies us 
 
 The valiant covets, or the good esteems ? 
 
 Proud of your blameless cause, and noble leader, 
 Long have ye triumph’d amid matchless suffer- 
 ings. 
 
 Blest in fair praise, and victors in your virtue ; 
 Now mindful heaven is to those sufferings just. 
 And crowns our infant union with advantage. 
 Yet ere, instructed of the weal of Wales, 
 
 I to your king did homage for my power. 
 
 An ally and dependant, oft (how oft!) 
 
 My secret heart prepar’d the ties which bind me 
 To such whose brave exploits uphold the cause 
 Not of one people only, but mankind. 
 
 How did his worth inspire me! how, e’en then. 
 Did rising veneration prompt to share 
 In his just cause, each fell vicissitude. 
 
 War at his side, and join my fate to his ! 
 
 Eth. Nor have, I trust, on this eventful day, 
 
His acts e^'er mov’d to censure. Since thou saw'st 
 The chief, whom only rumour had made known, 
 Thou didst not, with an alter’d judgment, prize 
 His proffer’d love. 
 
 Mei'v. What searcher e’er could find 
 
 - Report, though eloquent, transcend his prowess? 
 And, if more peaceful worth as fairly shews, 
 
 - I, when the marching army left the camp, 
 
 This morn confessed it, since nor Alfred’s self, 
 Nor did the fair Elsitha more bewail, 
 
 Than I, their solemn parting. 
 
 EtJi, There, yes, there 
 
 Thou saw’ St no common love, nor cold return. 
 Knowing the country wide o’erspread with foes, 
 The monarch fears to trust her far from sight, 
 And where we move, still she accompanies 
 Our troops, unaw’d by the terrific shew. 
 
 Hence many a witness of their tender love ; 
 
 And hence, pervading many a Briton’s breast, 
 Has fondest admiration of the pair 
 Still added daily force to patriot ardour. 
 
 Merv, No less th’ appearance promis’d. O my 
 friend, 
 
How does domestic love, whose charms exalt 
 The very cot, with grateful splendour shine • ^ 
 On the conspicuous throne 1 
 Eth, If such th’ esteem 
 Now harbour’d in so true a breast for Alfred, 
 Learn, it may not prove vain, but more perhaps, 
 Be friendly to his peace, than either thou 
 Or he could dream. 
 
 Merv. Withhold not welcome tidings; 
 
 What friendship can perform, shall mine for 
 Alfred. 
 
 Eth. O, prince, the firm and boundless con- 
 fidence 
 
 With which in all our counsels his regard 
 Does honour to thy faith and noble virtues, 
 Invites my fearless speech; and while success. 
 Thus far secur’d, can spare us from the battle, 
 
 I crave so long thine ear. One wars with us 
 Whom we perhaps suspected not in vain. 
 
 Merv, I seek not far the person thou intend'st. 
 Eth, Know then, ’tis certain he who came to me, 
 Escaping from the bands which, under Alfred, 
 Lord Ceoluph commands, told of the rumour 
 
Around liim whisper’d, and supposes hence 
 That lord sent one, ere yet the battle joined, 
 
 To treat in secret with the troops of Ireland, 
 Who, since that country bow’d its head to con- 
 quest. 
 
 Have strengthen’d the barbarian with their num- 
 bers. 
 
 Merv. Ha! yet ’tis well that matter thus unapt 
 Is spread to catch the dangerous sparks of treason. 
 Th’ auxiliars will not promptly war with Pagans 
 For bloody spoils, against their God and con- 
 science. 
 
 Etk. This was foreseen by Alfred, and he 
 hence 
 
 So plac’d the men of Ceoluph, direct 
 Against the Irish front — For well he knew 
 The brave maintains the feeblest fight with justice. 
 Besides, long amity has join’d our nations 
 With links of kindness. How does civil broil 
 Differ from this? Scot against Scot contends. 
 Thou know’st our allies from the north, who long 
 Supported Alfred’s battles ere this day, 
 
 Scarce oftener own, for theirs, the appellation. 
 
Men/, Yes, well I know tlieir colonies of old 
 Migrating to that neighb’ring isle, at length 
 Equall’d its natives in the fame of numbers : 
 
 A friendly junction rose, and was the stock 
 Whence population branch’d its fuller honours. 
 Irish and Scot convey like purport, there, 
 
 And in the language of those islanders. 
 
 But say, was it his daring enterprize 
 That taught so well the quarters of the foe? 
 
 Eth, It was, and when he sought them with 
 his harp. 
 
 In mean disguise, stirr’d by the new report 
 Of prosp’rous war wag’d by the lord of Devon; 
 When there he pass’d unknown hdl many a day, 
 More than all this he learn’ d. Tis true, his si- 
 lence 
 
 Observ’d at Selwood, where we met in arms, 
 Was most unchang’d, nor wish’d he here to open 
 One avenue to treachery’s dark assaults. 
 
 But all these were precautions, so to guard 
 Our cause from foes as dangerous, though con- 
 ceal’d : 
 
 Hence, too, our rapid march, and hence the watch 
 
[ ] 
 
 So vigilantly pac’d our nightly stations. 
 
 If traitors have conspir’d, uncertainty 
 Hung on their counsels, and perhaps their plans 
 Confus’d, as multiplied to suit occasions 
 None could foresee, have disappear’d in nought. 
 But, if the news be true this soldier speaks, 
 ’Twere well to guard the life and cause of Alfred. 
 Merv. Our task is plain. Yes, let us straight 
 divide, 
 
 The sooner to search out the chief engag’d 
 In close pursuit, and fortune speed th’endeavour. 
 This is my way. \going. 
 
 Eth. Yet from that brook hard by , 
 
 Observe, thus warn’d, each various movement: 
 there 
 
 Expect awhile my counsel. I must know 
 This new appearance (which from hence I see 
 Of men in British dress, and British arms. 
 
 ’Tis wondrous 1 with the troops, t’improve ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 They mingled not with like alacrity. 
 
 \Exit Mervin^ 
 
[16 ] 
 
 Ethelred, Semichorns . 
 
 Eth, In what close quest tread ye so slow the 
 plains 
 
 Of Eddington, as wanting in your search 
 Assistant knowledge? If to Britons I, 
 
 A Briton, can afford it, cease your pains; 
 
 And if some measure, useful to our arms, 
 Ambition prompt, your leader best may guide : 
 But I perceive, aslant your shoulders slung. 
 
 The peaceful harp, that speaks a different calling. 
 
 Sem. We tremble, hearing this is Eddington, 
 For which we have exchang’d our safe retreat. 
 And trusted through less devious paths to seek 
 you. 
 
 Attendant on the queen. 
 
 Eth. The queen 1 
 Sem. Not far, 
 
 Alighted from the chariot, which in vain 
 Pursued your surer steps, ere yet the foes 
 Alarm’d had seal’d her danger, fast she seeks 
 Some refuge here. 
 
 Eth. Ah! too ad vent’ rous virtue! 
 
Would that when Buthred, her ill-fated brother, 
 Driv’n by the Danes from his Northumbrian 
 throne, 
 
 Sought quiet in the friendly walls of Rome, 
 Would she had then accompany ’d his flight; 
 Ev’n from the war’s first outset lodg’d in safety : 
 But love, too powerful, made her slight entreaty, 
 And share the saddest sorrows of her lord. 
 
 W’hat brings her? 
 
 Sem, The reputed cause, if true. 
 
 Is not of trivial moment ; but t’ impart 
 Some undivulg’d position of affairs. 
 
 And so assist your labours. See her come. 
 
 Elsitha, Ethelred^ Chorus. 
 
 Eth, Good fortune, smiling on this haunt of 
 danger. 
 
 More dread by bloody desolation made, 
 
 Protect our rever’d queen. If right our hopes 
 Augur, midst blessings, their continuance 
 This meeting may befriend, which first in me 
 Offers thy will a ready minister. 
 
 And much the time requires some helpful agent, 
 
 B 
 
Whether to free thee from all dreads of danger. 
 Or trace, if sought, the king. 
 
 Els, What touches him 
 I need not, doubtful, from his friend withhold, 
 Imposing but a servile drudgery. 
 
 Listen thyself, assur’d 1 readier bless 
 Th’ event that offers to my secret tale 
 The ear of confidence. Retire awhile. 
 
 My faithful band; our labour; and your pains. 
 Have not been useless to the cause of Alfred. 
 
 \they retire 
 
 Eth, Still may it, as it has begun, proceed! 
 Nor did it, nor shall ever want from me 
 Support, such as this day we boast successful. 
 For now the Dane stands firm, now slow re 
 treats, 
 
 But still before us flies. We give not way, 
 
 But, led by Alfred, antedate success. 
 
 While the pursuing troops his voice exhorts. 
 
 His looks inspire, he waves the royal blade. 
 
 And on his restless casque the studded crown 
 Beams far. Beneath it, as in youthful beauty 
 He sternly dooms the foe, or cheers his men; 
 
By turns the wand’ring eye appears to cross 
 The frown of death, or winning charms of love. 
 
 Els, 01 if unnotic’d treachery impede 
 The limbs that grapple with outrageous daring, 
 What may they do? What, against treachery’s 
 force 
 
 Avails each quality his tott’ring sway. 
 
 That captivates, and that unites the people; 
 
 The warrior’s matchless skill, the statesman’s 
 prudence. 
 
 Seductive eloquence, excelling science? 
 
 Once these, and all his merits, would'st thou 
 speak, 
 
 Till admiration kindled into love: 
 
 Now, Ethelred, relume thy boasted zeal; 
 
 Now prove it. 
 
 Eth, I no less have heard the rumour 
 Of some what fatal to the peace of England, 
 Secretly plann’d (which thou may’st now in- 
 tend); 
 
 And am the readier led t’ inquire of thee 
 What fame has more unravell’d. 
 
 Els, Not less secret 
 
 B2 
 
[ 20 ] 
 
 Than is the machination, was the source 
 From which my knowledge, if ’tis knowledge, 
 • ' flow’d; 
 
 For not through all the army did one tongue 
 Dare to reveal the purpose. 
 
 Eth. Yet ’twas^they 
 
 From forth whose numbers the instruction came? 
 
 Els. Yes, soon as far beyond the utmost reach 
 Of active zeal, or earnest sympathy. 
 
 They had retir’d ; long I accompanied ' 
 
 Their marching steps ; nor when at last I bade 
 Alfred farewel, and left them to their progress, 
 Did my eyes straight rove from them, but pur- 
 su’d. 
 
 Amid the wreathing dust, his cause’s cham- 
 pions. 
 
 This chiefly woke regret, when my return 
 Too late discover’d, in the royal tent, 
 
 Th’ instructive scrolls. 
 
 Eth. Which they left haply there. 
 
 Departing? 
 
 Eh. And, with clearness, characters, 
 
 Though set down by the hand of mystery. 
 
Shew’d each informer s meaning. Nought sub- 
 scrib’d 
 
 To these unown’d alarms, these written terrors, 
 Shews how the warning came, though all unfold 
 Some plotted mischief; nor yet, strange to tell! 
 The enemies, but those we held adherents. 
 
 Seem foremost of th’ accus’d. - In this they join, 
 Varying their tales. One of concerted schemes 
 Between some chieftain and the hostile leader, 
 
 At large instructs ; one names a subject Dane, 
 
 As tempting to some faithless stratagem, 
 
 Different in kind ; and one their foreign aids : 
 
 A fourth, more anxious, terrifies with fears 
 Of covert danger, and th’ assassin’s steel : 
 
 But all, ambiguous, no where point the traitor. 
 Eth, These facts at least may clear some new 
 suspicions, 
 
 (Caus’d haply by the fruit of riper counsels) 
 
 And arm inquiry with a surer pretext. 
 
 Els, Mov’d by such fears, I left the lonely camp, 
 With earliest speed. What could not duty do, 
 When back’d by inclination? Here I rest 
 After the toilsome morn, and, as a queen, 
 
[ 22 ] 
 
 ( 
 
 Am strongly mov’d to what upholds the nation; 
 But as a wife — O, pardon, Ethelred, 
 
 If much that tender tie partook the merit 
 My coming may confer, and urges thee 
 To hasten Alfred. 
 
 Eth, Of so just a motive, 
 
 No subject, princess, need complain; it adds 
 Force to that public spirit it attends. 
 
 While hence I go, that shed may be a shelter, • 
 These guards defend; which soon the royal 
 Mervin, 
 
 Who waits me not far distant, sl^ augment, , 
 As may suffice. Be mine to seek our sov’reign. 
 
 \Exit, 
 
 \ Elsilha^ Chorus, 
 
 Ehor. If the queen’s pleasure favour our at- 
 tempt, 
 
 We, from the simple inmates of this mansion,. 
 Will crave their artless hospitality. 
 
 And to the door approach. 
 
 Els. ’Tis that we mean, 
 
 Respecting still their helpless poverty. 
 
[ 23 ] 
 
 Chor, You that reside beiieatli this roof — 
 Worn, O, spare, 
 
 Spare an unhurtful, unimportant life, 
 
 To none obnoxious. 
 
 Chor, How has fear oppress’d 
 Her aged wretchedness! Thy words betray 
 An erring fancy, and rhistake — 
 
 Worn. That fate 
 
 Which plac’d me low, may well exempt from 
 dangers 
 
 That on th’ ambitious wait! 
 
 Els, Harbour not thoughts 
 Of enmity, nor e’er surmise that I 
 Draw near this cot with haughtier expectations 
 Than swell the vagrant’s breast. I ask admit- 
 tance 
 
 A suppliant, though a queen. Conceal me straight 
 In safety from the Dane, whom England rues, 
 Whene'er, through many a year, reflection num- 
 bers 
 
 Her murder’d and despoil’d inhabitants. 
 
Elsitha^ Woman f Chorus, 
 
 Worn. O, queen, fofgive the tardiness of fear, 
 That, by the terrors of this day confounded, 
 Mistook your voice for what still rings around me t 
 The Voice of threat’ning foes, whose dreadful arms . 
 Thrice have assail’d my door 1 once had their swords 
 Fall’n fatal, had they not been call’d from me, 
 
 Or by caprice, or some new enterprize. 
 
 If ’tis so high a guest honours this shed, 
 
 Let me not fail to say, that prudence’ self 
 Invites within its walls. 
 
 Els. Accept #ie thanks 
 Of sincere gratitude j whether from birth 
 A patrimonial dwelling here contain’d, 
 
 Or sad reverse of fate has forc’d thee hither, 
 
 To pass, in unforeseen obscurity, ^ 
 
 Thy fowling evening of unsteady life. 
 
 Worn. Alas! I never lifted soaring thoughts 
 To that high pitch, nor was possess’d of greatness: 
 Only with mod’rate plenty, mine by lot, 
 f wish’d to live unenvied, and unseen, 
 
 And free t’ enjoy that little birth bestow d. 
 
[25 } 
 
 This was not given : the tyrannic arm 
 Of lordly barons, o’er my hapless house 
 \Yds stretch’d, that suflPer’d all extortion’s wrongs, 
 All the rapacious craft of partial law. 
 
 Yet, ere invasion ting’d our fields with blood, 
 For heavier sorrows, from the reverend domes 
 Whose ruins now the Danish lines o’erspread, 
 We gain’d wherewith to furnish sustenance; 
 Resorting to their hospitable porch 
 Oft, with th’ o’erwearied pilgrim, and the poor .; 
 My children too, and I, as suited each, 
 
 Barter’d our service, bearino- from the woods 
 
 ^ O 
 
 / 
 
 Their fuel, or from streams their finny food; 
 
 Or bearing else the needle’s workmanship, 
 
 For simple cloathing meant, or various use. 
 
 O what destruction with the cliange comes on ! 
 Welt’ring in blood hard by, myself bpheld, 
 
 Full many a pale religious float the isles 
 That echoed to his groans. Myself beheld, 
 
 Direst of sights! — great queen, excuse my tears — 
 Tliose I brought forth by violence expire ! 
 
 E/s. Less may’ St tliou mourn the work of 
 fierce barbarians, 
 
[26 ] 
 
 If this day’s brave attempt (whose daggers brought 
 me) 
 
 As ’tis approv’d, be favour’d so of heaven; 
 
 For Alfred toils alike to chase from England 
 The frowns of furious war, and fix on peace 
 The throne of incorrupt, unerring justice. 
 
 You here, my lov’d attendants, raise some 
 strain 
 
 Whose loyal sounds, first heard at Athelney 
 To cheat the tedious hours of forc’d retreat, 
 
 Oft won our pleas’d attention, charming round 
 The rushy borders of th’ united streams. 
 
 [Exeunt Qiieen and Woman, 
 
 Chorus, 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Let worth, let patriot zeal, with eye 
 O’erflowing, and with drooping head, 
 
 Let all who venerate the mysterious tie 
 Of wedded love, or power, bemoan, 
 
 Chas’d to the refuge of th’ obscure retreat 
 By savage foes o’er his dominion spread, 
 
[ 27 ] 
 
 Respect the pathless marsh where mingling 
 meet 
 
 The stores of Parret and of Thone. 
 
 While heedless of himself the chief 
 But labour’d for his country’s good, 
 
 There his lov’d partner long partook his grief, 
 Amid a circling infant race: 
 
 There long, the cause of England to support, 
 His subject-squadron every bribe withstood 
 Of want, unblam’d misfortune taught to court. 
 And cherish undeserv’d disgrace. ' 
 
 If e’er repose, and hop’d success, 
 
 Reward the battle-wasted bands; 
 
 If e’er the counsels sage of Alfred bless 
 With promis’d law th’ impatient realm, 
 Long hence the thoughtful Briton shall ex- 
 claim, 
 
 As on the bank, with folded arms, he stands : 
 “ Here could not foes extinguish virtue’s 
 flame, 
 
 “ Nor growing liberty o’erwhelm. 
 
Leaving this ambush, girt with reeds, 
 
 “ Full oft our fathers to th’ increase 
 
 Of urging ills oppos’d advenfrous deeds, 
 
 “ And vengeance dreadful, though un- 
 “ known, 
 
 Till happier triumphs teem’d^ for wearied 
 “ woe, 
 
 The friendly refuge, and the fruits of peace. 
 
 Then near the pathless marsh still honour^l 
 “ flow, 
 
 '‘ Ye streams of Parret and of Thone.” 
 
[ 29 ] 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Ceoluph, Vassal, Chorus, ' ' 
 
 Chor, Say, thou that in the guise of war array’d, 
 Dost guide thy course towards our appointed 
 station, 
 
 Com’st thou a friend? 
 
 CeoL Thou say’ St, and one who here 
 (Yes, ’twas this house) awaits a prince’s orders 
 But duly thus to serve ye. Ceoluph 
 Is he whose speech salutes his fellow Britons. 
 
 And tell me, on what separate scheme intent 
 Linger you here ? 
 
 Chor, Our task is now t '’attend 
 Our much-lov’d mistress, and afflicted queen ; 
 Who, drawn by rumours strange, (as^tis assur’d) 
 Has from the camp arriv’d, and in this hovel 
 Reposes. Happy will she hear the news 
 Of this event. 
 
 CeoL [apart ioVass,] Dissemble we his coming ; 
 It has not gone too far. 
 
f 30 j 
 
 Vass* What thy intent 
 I yet divine not; but shall favour it, 
 
 Taught by thy future style. 
 
 Chor. Then Alfred soon — 
 
 Ccol. Mistake not. Understood ye Alfred 
 comes ? 
 
 Chor. We thought our sovereign’s presence 
 drew thee hither. 
 
 Ceol. Another prince, thou know’st, our brave 
 ally. 
 
 Wars in our ranks; the chief of Wales not far 
 Is station’d, fitly for our martial meetings. 
 
 Let our united efforts prove of use 
 In aid of female royalty, whose danger 
 Harrows the soul with fear. 
 
 Chor. We have not Avanted 
 Some friends to counsel, yet we learn not what 
 The queen resolves to do — If aid be promis’d, 
 
 Or she expects it ; and enough we need 
 Methinks both of advice to know our danger, 
 And fit assistance to contend with it. 
 
 Ceol. With whom did you consult? or whom 
 did chance 
 
First ofFer to your view? 
 
 Chor. Tlie noble leader 
 Alfred intrusts with the supreme command. 
 Awhile he kept the queen in private talk, 
 
 Then speeded straight away. 
 
 CeoL \apart to Vass.] No time be lost. 
 
 These, as not sparing friendship’s offices, 
 
 Lead o^’er the ground ; and that no coming leader 
 Menace detection, mark thou well each place 
 Of danger all around, save on this. side 
 Where station’d close we hold our troops prepar’d. 
 And keep one inlet for the enemy. 
 
 This we may safe neglect. Our arms so near 
 Shall seem dissuading the superfluous caution. 
 
 [loud* 
 
 Your either wish be now accomplish’d, friends; 
 For Mervin and myself will timely here 
 Ask of the queen if more remain to do 
 For your protection : then supply your wants. 
 Meanwhile this faithful follower will conduct you 
 To each defile mistrusted. And since we 
 Join to discuss affairs importing much 
 The general cause, I crave the more your absence, 
 
[32 ] 
 
 That while you watchfully survey the ground, 
 Mindful of this instructor, we may meet, 
 
 And unperceiv'd deliberate on those secrets 
 Right policy would hide. 
 
 Chor, Then let us go, 
 
 That no obtrusive eye, no neighb’ring ear 
 May violate their sacred privacy. \Ex^ Chm\ 
 
 \Ceoluph beckons to VassaL 
 
 Ceolupk, VassaL 
 
 CeoL This prize must not escape me; who, 
 possest, 
 
 And safe detain’d as an illustrious prisoner. 
 
 May soothe the Dane, at least sate my revenge. 
 And shall these know tha^ he I now expect 
 Is Alfred? 
 
 Vass, I perceive thy recent project. 
 
 CeoL Yes, fortune brighter smiles, yet of us a$ks 
 More ardent wooing. We must not be slow. 
 Who knows but in the English ranks some one 
 May tamper with these Irish, too dispos’d; 
 Seeing they murmur at th’ ungrateful strife. 
 
 Nay, haply, when he fool’d away, but late, 
 
[ 33 ] . 
 
 With harp and ditties in tlie Danish camp, 
 Charming its great with music and with mirth; 
 Then haply did this busy, meddling Alfred, 
 Whose cunning counteracts qur best designs, 
 With wonted art essay their inclination, 
 Enfeeblincr their affection for their lords. 
 
 o 
 
 Whence, if ’tis ours to play desertion’s game, 
 ’Twere well, that what is done, were done with 
 speed, 
 
 Vass. Then is there hope, thou, ere this bold 
 attempt, 
 
 Try to regain thy so v’ reign’s confidence. 
 
 Ceol. Once more I will essay what interest’s 
 goad, - 
 
 Ev’n upon spirits most untractable. 
 
 Can manifest of power. My influence spreads 
 Wide through the army. This day will insure 
 His crown, or ruiii. The victorious troops 
 Must clamour for new laws. Zeal is profuse — • 
 Their love — How willing would they bend to 
 Alfred 1 
 
 Vass, AVhen shall my lord decide me, if he 
 fail. 
 
 C 
 
To speed his message to the Irish lines; 
 
 But, if his promises win o’er the king, 
 
 Then to forbear. 
 
 Gaol, Should he deserve forbearance, 
 
 Thou well shah understand, ere Alfred go : 
 
 Else, (for he comes t’ examine our position, 
 
 And learn the battle’s site) thou may’st escort 
 him, 
 
 While I seem busied by a leader’s call, 
 
 Till in the ranks we meet at length again. 
 
 Yet be not this, ere thou avertest far, 
 
 Widi store of civil assiduities. 
 
 His steps from our battalion’s utmost limits. 
 
 Vass. ’Tis fear’d, perhaps, his presence with 
 our schemes 
 May interfere. 
 
 Ccol. Hence must thou trace him far; 
 
 But when 1 hear of thy return, that moment 
 A truce, proclaim’d ’twixt opposite commanders, 
 Shall still the sounds of war, and let thee pass, 
 Bearing th’ agreed conditions. I myself 
 Will head their troops, and this way lead them on. 
 But hie thee hence, for he approaches fast: — 
 
Retire, and mingling with tlie queen’s attendants, 
 Keep them where Alfred's person may not thwart 
 The prying sight ; else all were lost. 
 
 Vass. I go. 
 
 Alfred, Ceolnph. 
 
 CeoL Blest be the day that offers to my liege 
 Such earnest of the hope of faithful subjects ; 
 
 That peace which may insure us all the blessings 
 Of the firm state our English strive to found ; 
 \Miile some, perhaps, rest on new laws their hope 
 Of gen’ral bliss, I more on Alfred’s power. 
 
 Alf, Lord Ceoluph, it causes our surprise, 
 That so thy public judgment seems t’ incline, 
 
 If thou would’ St speak, admitting in our isle 
 The loftier claims of arbitrary power. 
 
 None seek I more, that fits that government, 
 
 Of mingled form, which but the sage has plann’d, 
 Weio-hina; the wrono;s that from each order flow, 
 Each grievance; and administ’ring redress 
 Through rights inherent in the sep’rate orders, 
 Mutually balanc’d for the general peace : 
 
 Such claims suffice th’ ambition I dare feel, 
 
 C2 
 
' / 
 
 [ 36 ] 
 
 CeoL Yet, sire, I see with difF’rent eyes that 
 rip'ht 
 
 Which reason measures by the public good. 
 
 The failing force of government requires 
 Some prop, that leans not on th’ unsteady footing 
 Of tangled law, or popular caprice ; 
 
 And asks frill scope to guide its useful efforts. 
 
 Is freedom boasted? Oft ’tis idly boasted; 
 
 And least its rights advantage their possessors, 
 Vice still exerts them to encourage wrong; 
 
 And virtue, not less oft, misled by error, 
 
 Puts to their meanest, than their noblest use. 
 
 Alf. Better that rulers should sustain some 
 hindrance. 
 
 Than quench in man the spark of conscious worth,. 
 And covet base obedience, as from slaves; 
 
 Close chain th’ infirmities of subject-spirits. 
 
 Yet set, their own, as terrible, at large. 
 
 With other mortals, let a prince’s nod 
 Condemn the innocent, and spare the guilty, 
 Solely resolve th’ accepted laws of truth. 
 
 Of property and life, or public thrift; 
 
 But free as his own thoughts be every Briton. , 
 
Ceoh Were worthless pride to seek extended 
 power, 
 
 Tlien should I join my patriot views to tliine : 
 But, mighty sire, who rules our British land? 
 He through whose arms the foe in vain aug- 
 ments. 
 
 Who would for power obtain the people’s vote? 
 He who exerts it only for their welfare. 
 
 Alfred, among the dread events of war. 
 
 With active spirit can improve our trade. 
 
 But is it hence (though stretch’d to India’s 
 shore) 
 
 Is industry at home our plea for insult? 
 
 He sends his sails t’ explore, in seas remote, 
 
 New coasts, and stretch the limits of the globe. 
 Not hoping, as I judge, the world’s reproof, 
 
 But praise, such as awaits advent’rous virtue. 
 First of our kings, if he prepar’d for Britain, 
 What destiny design’d her, ocean’s empire. 
 
 And built the floating bulwarks of our shores, 
 Will sapient censure hold, on subject hearts 
 He weakens but one claim, or with less title 
 Commands the proffer’d aid of Ceoluph? 
 
[ 38 ] 
 
 Alf. High rat’st thou such desert, Lord Ceo- 
 luph. 
 
 Thou calhst, withholding that return,'^ disgrace; 
 Ahl dream we not that merit, howe’er great, 
 
 Has magic power to change the laws of justice. 
 Cco!, Conviction, sire, still follows what thou 
 say’ St ; 
 
 And doubt and error fly my clearer reason. 
 
 Yet what say I ? Could e’er a noble mind 
 Mistake the best, or e’en divided stand. 
 
 Did Heav’n not grace one king with qualities 
 To win th’ intractable — to charm with chains. 
 
 At length, for ever I resume my reason. 
 
 Taught by th’ example ev’n of Alfred’s self: 
 
 Now, now, let liberty unbounded rule 
 These happy fields! whose sovereign that as- 
 sistance 
 
 Which press’d t’ exalt, would dare to strip of* 
 greatness. 
 
 While what he lost in power, he gain’d in glory. 
 
 Alf. As little would th’ extreme of liberty. 
 
 As unmix’d power, forebode our country’s good.^ 
 The wide extent of our connected isle, 
 
[39 ] 
 
 Now first united for its welfire, asks 
 A firmer power to fix its scatter’d parts. 
 
 To hold them join’d, as from a common centre: 
 For policy as sage may guide our councils, 
 
 As spread ^le fame of ancient lawgivers, 
 
 While thus we frame our state ; which may ex- 
 hibit 
 
 Both larger power, and greater liberty. 
 
 No sad excesses in a state are worse 
 Than anarchy’s, nor ask a firmer check: 
 
 Beneath it, ever does the weak man suffer, 
 
 \^ex’d by the strong and base ; and, ruin’d fame 
 Eno;rossin^ frradual favour, wealtli itself 
 Endanger’d, more afflicts than poverty. 
 
 ’Tis what distino-uishes our race from brutes : 
 
 o 
 
 That one by rule, and maxims preconceiv’d, 
 Orders his actions, on mature reflection ^ 
 .Engrafting virtue’s growth for fairer fruits; 
 
 The others, by no common tie confin’d, 
 
 As impulse urges, or as force compels, ^ 
 
 Obey the laws but of instinctive being. 
 
 CeoL [pausing confusedly,] Suits it the loyal 
 subject to contend 
 
[ 40 ] 
 
 With higher wisdom in a reverenc’d sovereign ? 
 Yielding to greatness, he but bows to reason : 
 Nor shall 1 strive, with disobedient seeming. 
 
 To justify the taunts of obloquy. 
 
 Too much its victim, sire, 1 felt its darts, 
 
 -Since the sad Buthred from his reign was driv’n : 
 Myself a Thane beneath him, and much honour'd 
 By the good chief; none of his household more. 
 The Danes then crown'd me ; but could I prevent 
 Their liking, or oppose their thoughtless choice? 
 This sweird the clamour of malicious tongues ; * 
 Yet soon they deem'd it fittest to depose me. 
 
 In truth, 'twas rumour'd that I meanly stoop'd 
 To pillage what, as king, I reign’d to guard. 
 
 Til’ intrusted treasure ; and that hence the same 
 Who late bestow’d on me the posver, resum’d it. 
 Thus, sire, detraction construed to worst views 
 My partial fealty ; and the very sufferings 
 It brought on me, rose up in adverse judgment. 
 But who will venture to disprove my truth, 
 w hen face to face we stand before our sov’reign? 
 Him let me challenge to discover ought ; 
 
 Him let me call — 
 
A!f. We wander, Ceoluph, 
 
 From that first public salutary bent 
 Of our discourse, and verge to light concerns; 
 For ’tis most sure th’ assistance thou hast offer VI, 
 Has but a public, and no private object, 
 Enticing from such urgent care our thoughts ; 
 And time suffices scarce t’ enquiie as needs, 
 
 The fate of wasteful war, or how dispos’d 
 Thy troops, and in what posture is the battle? 
 
 Ceo!. A leader’s duty asks no slumbV ing care, 
 And forces me, unwilling, from that office. 
 Which yet a faithful vassal may assume. 
 
 He waits full near, withdrawn awhile, that I 
 More secretly might learn my liege’s will. 
 
 Alfred^ Ceoluph, Vassal. 
 
 CeoL I beckon’d thee t’ accompany our sov’- 
 reign 
 
 Along the rear, and duly mark our posture. — 
 Sire, through yon thicket lies the nearest patli. 
 
 [Exeunt Alfred and Vassah 
 
[ 42 ] 
 
 Ceoluph, Chorus. 
 
 Ceol. f aside) Blest, then, thy safe departure. 
 Chor. SwayM, rny lord, 
 
 By the advice t!iy vassal gave, we came. 
 
 He bade us, when we parted, pause a space, 
 
 Then to this spot return ; but since return’d, 
 
 We fail not earnestly to ask, if aid 
 Be now intended by the western prince, 
 
 Or others; and if soon we so may place it, 
 
 As suits with the instructions of thy vassal. 
 
 Our fears and our impatience keep like pace. 
 Ceol. Friends, be secure, and hope that soon 
 the prince 
 
 Will hither come, bearing the earliest arms, 
 Ev’n as he promis’d. Ye require the king; 
 Then must 1, for your business, forthwith hence. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Sem. See I not also in thy looks poiirtrayM 
 Some slight mistrust, while proofis yet withheld, 
 •Of all this late discourse? Myself confess it. 
 This lord (our danger will excuse my freedom) 
 
Was in his master’s throne by Danish arms 
 First seated with suspicious ciiciimstance : 
 
 Then to descend constrain’d, on charge of fraud; 
 And few in Alfred’s court, perhaps, may doubt 
 His dark designs, though all seems hush’d in 
 pul)lic, 
 
 Nor does the name of traitor brand his credit. 
 ’Tis true that, follow’d by a concourse large 
 Of arm’d retainers, against England’s foes. 
 
 He brings no mean assistance, and deserves 
 Much of the reverence due to lofty rank, 
 
 Paid him by all, amid th’ united army. 
 
 But ask we yet if aught the queen expect 
 From otliers, lest security deceive us. 
 
 And lest we fall the victims of his promise. 
 Unaided at the last. to ike coltaze* 
 
 Scm, ’Tis needless. Hold 
 
 I judg’d vSo, till this moment yonder troop 
 Skirted the wood, approaching this l ecess. 
 
 ’Tis Mervin who precedes, of Aithur’s race. 
 Brave prince! he comes appointed by that lord, 
 No doubt; for instant as announc’d behold him, 
 Heading his men. Leave we mistrustful thoughts : 
 
Suspicion may be just in generous minds, 
 
 Yet never can it please. 
 
 Mervm, Chorus, Guards with Mervin, 
 
 Men/. My friends, 1 err, ^ 
 
 Or tlirougb the tliicket, as I pass’d in speed, 
 
 The gleam of armour, moving towards the battle, 
 Declar’d tliat chieftain^s absence, whose com- 
 mands 
 
 I thus pursue. Is he not gone, at length, 
 
 From these surrounding glades? 
 
 Chor. Yes, and did promise 
 Thy aid. Thy sudden coming, and apt speech, 
 Confirm our disposition to obey him; 
 Persuading, as his better judgment taught us, 
 
 To station this battalion for defence. 
 
 Men/. And rightly you obey; for I surmise 
 He from your knowledge has Avithheld no danger, 
 That asks such fearful care, or thoughtful skill. 
 If any were untold, ere hence he went. 
 
 Pleas’d should I reme dy th’ effects of haste. 
 
 Else will not with advice affront his knowledge. 
 Chor. He parted hence as in no need to speak 
 
\ 
 
 [ 45 ] 
 
 Of more, but wholly bent on liis design 
 To seek the king, and by such added labour 
 Shorten our task: whose main intent we much, 
 Much wish indeed accomplish’d ; Avish to see 
 These royal patterns of connubial love 
 Both in one place, and mourn no useless jour- 
 ney. 
 
 No care besides seems lab’ring in his breast ; 
 And Avell his reason’s satisfied. 
 
 Merv. Enough. 
 
 I too shall hasten, warm’d by equal zeal, 
 
 And equal admiration of their love, 
 
 T’ assist a search that may provide its triumph. 
 Th"' endeavours of so many cannot fail 
 In some part of the battle soon to find him. 
 
 And do Avhat’s wish’d for England’s sake and 
 theirs. [Exit. 
 
 Chorus^ Guards. 
 
 Chor. Go, one, and marshalling th’ attendant 
 aids, 
 
 Straight dj aw them oft to each suspected pass, 
 Their destin’d station. 
 
[ 46 ] 
 
 Chorus. I 
 
 We, remaining here, 
 
 Mean while, shall on our slumh’ring harps re- 
 sound ^ 
 
 Some suited air, anxious to chase the fears 
 Which, with its awful cries, and noise of arms. 
 The neighb’ring battle may well rouze in all, 
 
 But readiest in the tender female mind. 
 
 Hence is our skill most needful, hence the voice 
 And artful hand might, for no useless rapture. 
 Unite their soothing charms, and secret power. 
 But is a noble tlieme requir’d? What nobler 
 Than the high birth-right of this gallant chief, 
 That nation, and their fate, who, foes no more, 
 Now join to ours unconquerable arms. 
 
 Could claim th’ harmonious homage? Virtuous 
 
 o 
 
 prince, 
 
 And virtuous people, our cemented friendship 
 Is by the Englisli minstrel not despis’d. 
 
 But warbled to his harp, respected, lives. 
 
SONG. 
 
 When Arthur fill’d the island -throne, 
 
 He stemm’d the bolst’rous flood that pour’d 
 From circling cliffs, and scorn’d alone 
 Tldopposers of his guardian sword; 
 Piercing the Angler’s firm array, 
 
 (Each power invok’d to Christians known) 
 As gleam’d its waving blade a ray. 
 Auspicious to the Briton’s fame; 
 
 And, to the savage tribe of Thor, 
 Amazement, o^'er the files of war. 
 
 And death, where^’er it darted, came. 
 
 Chiefs lie o’erwhelmM, whose ruin awes. 
 
 As vancjuish’d oaks bestrew the ground, 
 Snatch’d, ere the threats of lightning pause, 
 Or cease the whirlwind-waste around. 
 
 For toils like these, the Cambrian siiws, 
 Absolv’d from nature’s wonted laws, 
 
 The destin'd sire of future kings 
 Reclines on flowers of fairy-land; 
 
 And o’er the race he fir'd in vain 
 To freedom, and his ancient reign, 
 
 Again shall stretch his wide command. 
 
[ 48 ] 
 
 But tell, my harp, that from on high. 
 Subdu’d the terrors of the tomb. 
 
 He sees fierce arts from Albion fly, 
 Rejoicing in his country’s doom. 
 
 Sees old consent, and public care. 
 
 Greet us with titles, arms deny; 
 
 And sends his banisl/d bands to share 
 A friendship may for ever live; 
 
 While tQ the land which own’d our sways. 
 Their names alike (if such be praise) 
 
 The foes of other ages give. 
 
[ 49 ] . 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Alfred^ Chorus, 
 
 Chor. Cease we our music, andtli’ approaching 
 king 
 
 Triumphant welcome* Hail, long wish’d-for 
 monarch I 
 
 Whether thou come instructed of our tale, 
 
 Or following but the guidance of high heav’n, 
 
 Permit me to conduct 
 
 Alf, I heard it late 
 
 From Mervin, as along the rear I pass’d. 
 
 Its posture to survey. He told me, too. 
 
 Where I might find, in perilous repose, 
 
 Th’ expecting queen, and spares me your assist- 
 ance. \ExU into the cottage. 
 
 Chorus, 
 
 Sem, Pain would I, friends, though late the 
 chief of Wales 
 
 Unquestion’d left us, yet, for what we did, 
 
 D 
 
I 
 
 F 50 ] 
 
 Now gain the approbation of our king. 
 
 And now, perhaps, the difference of our cause 
 Needs new directions, since our sovereigns met, 
 And what we came for is from neither hid. 
 
 Back to return, for that we see ’tis so. 
 
 Our business o’er, will be no task of ease. 
 
 Sent. Thy fears are just; for now alarm’d, far 
 round, ^ 
 
 The country is inform’d of this attack. 
 
 Though made in secret, on the Danes’ intrench- 
 ments ; 
 
 And if their scatter’d tribes espy the queen. 
 
 Who, when we hither past, obstructed not. 
 
 Yet Avaken’d by mistrust, our cautious progress, 
 We may lament our own dishonour’d office, 
 
 Nor less, as Britons, her captivity. 
 
 Sem, But if new tribes, which daily fear fore- 
 sees. 
 
 Have sought our coast, and deluge now the isle, 
 Then tenfold is the danger. Hapless England, 
 Should this momentous interval of safety, 
 
 W hen Allred would restore our stranded hopes, 
 Be ravish’d by invasion’s refluent tide, 
 
And to a future time, perhaps for ever, 
 
 The period, wish’d by Britons, still deferr’d, 
 
 Of prosp’rous law, and undisturb’d repose 1 — 
 
 Is there no castle near, dismantled late, 
 
 Where we may more securely guard the queen ? 
 
 Sem, None do I see; and only the remains 
 Of ample walls, religion’s sacred scat; 
 
 And ruin’d churches. Yet ’twere better so. 
 Than thus surrounded by the war to stay. 
 Fearing each wind that shakes the neighb’ring 
 boughs : 
 
 o » 
 
 There, while against the diligence of foes 
 We haste to strengthen the deserted spot. 
 
 The timid herd, that crop the weedy courts, 
 
 Or ’scape the summer-sun beneath the cloister. 
 Shall at our strange appearance stand erect, 
 
 With lifted antlers, and our near approach 
 Starting t’ avoid, for their relinquish’d wilds 
 Again resign his residence to man. 
 
 Sem, Soft — tis tlie creaking hinge, that haply 
 speaks 
 
 The royal pair advancing Yes, they come. 
 
 Now shall we best from Alfred learn to do 
 
 D2 
 
[ 52 ] 
 
 \ 
 
 What prudence, less than heav’nly, recommends ; 
 And, doing it, no less be justified. 
 
 But see, they slowly pace, and as immers’d 
 In deep discourse. Let us more distant stand, 
 Lest interruption mar thek intercourse'; 
 
 And, when they part, we will detain the king, 
 With provident inquiry, ere he go. 
 
 Alfred y E'lsithay Chorus at a distance^ 
 
 Alf, Y es, my Elsitha (be to HeaV’h the praise! J 
 ^^ow hast thou prosper’d in thy embassy, 
 Imparting wliat concern’d us near, both me, 
 
 And all my people. They shall much re-- 
 joice; 
 
 Yet ’twill not be without some mingled sorrow 
 For the surrounding dangers of their queen. 
 
 Els,> Much, Alfred, then, much surely haS' 
 she mourn’d, 
 
 if it be such an evil to Elsitha, 
 
 Lfer constant partnership in toils and sorrow. 
 And anxious labour in her hourly care. 
 
 When chance condemn’d thee once to lonely woe', 
 Much was it, sure, to me’ the eause of triumph, 
 
Tliat absence from thy sufferings forc’d me not 
 To share thy troubles, and t’ assuage thy grief. 
 AIJ\ O, dwell not on that chance, whose 
 strangeness olt 
 
 Has furnish’d matter for the soldiers’ tales, 
 
 But not less oft entic’d tliy ready tears. 
 
 Now, that our cause requires the force of hope, 
 Seek we each argument of cheering sort, 
 
 And bar each distant access to despondence. 
 
 Els. Shall I reflect on thy debas’d estate. 
 When fortune made thee vassal of a vassal. 
 Serving the aged housewife of a cot, 
 
 And then dismiss the thought, as each desires? - 
 The sigh, to nature due, at least be paid. 
 
 Shall I indifferent muse on the commands 
 Giv’n, as she left the shed, over the flame 
 To tend her food ; which, when thou didst neglect. 
 Rapt, and attentive to thy bow and darts, 
 
 The loud-ton’d anger of the poorest told, 
 
 But too well told, anon, thy sad reverse? 
 
 Alf. Such tales reserve, t’ enhance the dear^ 
 bought palm 
 
 Of slow-pac’cl victory; but forbear we now 
 
[ 54 ] 
 
 To baffle ardour with discouragement: 
 
 When peace returns to glad us, then may we 
 Joy, from the bosom of domestic quiet, 
 
 To trace, with recollection’s pleasing aid, 
 
 Th’ eventful series of our past misfortunes; 
 Mark’d by the listening circle of an offsprings 
 Not doom’d to mourn their lost inheritance. 
 
 Els, Let the tale rather stimulate to shun 
 The joyless repetition of disgrace; 
 
 To weigh again my wish, and far remove 
 From climes where skulking treason braves de- 
 tection. 
 
 Thyself, and that endanger’d family. 
 
 Alf, It could not be ; I could not have consented. 
 Once has the voice of honour, wak’d by zeal 
 For England’s welfare, and for Alfred’s fame. 
 Refus’d thee: Grieve not that tis obstinate. 
 
 But whither would’st thou that we bear, Elsitha, 
 Our vagrant steps? 
 
 Els, Inventive love shall tell. 
 
 Yes, with the pilgrims we will throng the ways 
 Of mighty Rome, and in its holy walls 
 Wear out the blameless remnant of our days 
 
In honour’d ease. No spleenful tongue shall say 
 That Alfred, daunted with the risks of war, 
 Slunk to th’ inactive cloister; but all own 
 What dire necessity, by Heav’n’s decree, 
 Compell’d a hero’s flight — depos’d a monarch. 
 Thus, heap’d with honours earn’d, thy martial 
 harvest, 
 
 Shalt thou look back well pleas’d upon thy life, 
 And for the future soothe thee with the hopes 
 Of best success to our united labours. 
 
 Charm’d with an offsprings’ ever-opening minds. 
 Those wondrous fruits of art which won thy 
 
 And, thou would’st say, were Greece’s vengeful 
 arms. 
 
 That quell’d her victor, Rome, they shall delight, 
 Revisited; as when a pope foretold thee. 
 Anointing as he spoke, reserv’d for empire. 
 What change were ill for me? since ev’n this cot, 
 Were he secure, with Alfred were a kingdom. 
 Alf. Alas! my best belov’d, whate’er thou 
 say’st, 
 
 Tends to dissuade me more; for when I think 
 
Of Rome, and all that help’d t’ increase its glories, 
 The pride of art in spoils of Conquer’d nations,* 
 And its own warlike deeds, or peaceful triumphs, 
 Can I do else than hail the distant years. 
 
 When the like fortune shall our efforts crown? 
 Yes, on the Thames another Rome shall rise; 
 
 So prosp’ring, my Elsitha, and so held, 
 
 For wide extent, and for unrivall’d numbers, 
 Earth’s capital. There patronage bestow’d 
 Shall waken nature’s fair propensities : 
 
 The canvas there shall glow, the labour’d stone 
 Swell with the truth of life; the pile ascend; 
 
 And heav’nly harmony entrance the soul. 
 
 Eh. And so thou said’st, when, wrapt in hos- 
 tile fire. 
 
 The city late bow’d all her battlements, 
 
 And lay one mighty ruin. “ Yes, at least,” 
 Drying th’ involuntary tear, thou said’st, 
 
 “ Henceforth, at least, it shall be own’d, to me 
 “ Her origin is due, when luxury’s pomp 
 “ On London sheds a splendor yet unknown, 
 
 “ Her streets adorns, and throngs her theatres.” 
 Such was thy talk; and labour swift obey’d thee 
 
But what is now his progress? Interruption, 
 Sent, the resistless messenger of war. 
 
 Suspends his earliest works, and mars thy pro- 
 jects. 
 
 Religion, Alfred, nay, religion’s self 
 Opposes thee; reminding of thy crosses, 
 
 While she persuades thee to despair of conquest, 
 And own, as if declar’d, the will of heav’n. 
 
 Alf, Let us beware we construe no appearance 
 Of unintention’d chance the will of heav’n, 
 
 Ev’n erring with a heart of innocence; 
 
 Nor, superstitious, thwart the virtuous aim 
 Of patient fortitude, or vent’rous valour. 
 
 When man is kindled by some noble view 
 To dang’rous toil, heav’n disapproves th’ at- 
 tempt 
 
 If tis superior to his bravest efforts; 
 
 But is it less , it bids him persevere. 
 
 Els. Remember’st thou that time, that ill- 
 starr’d time, 
 
 When both our reign and early love began; ^ 
 For since, ten tedious years have past, of pain 
 To us, and to our infant family. 
 
^►carcc has one interval of peaceful ease 
 Cheer'd us, so long amid continued direats 
 And inroads of the Dane; and shall we now 
 Act o’er again the mournful part\assign’d us, 
 
 Dep riv’d for ever of domestic rest? 
 
 Methinks, near some lone wood, or haunted 
 stream. 
 
 Where only fairies revel, we might welcome 
 A peasant’s lot : there but begin to live ; 
 
 There taste the dulcet draughts of fearless union. 
 And know a parent’s joys. My duteous care 
 Might win oblivion’s succour, charming far 
 Thy consciousness of sad obscurity. 
 
 Now dost thou haste t’ expose a precious life 
 To coiiqu’ring Pagans; I, unguarded, brave — 
 A!f. Y et Mervin told me he had left but now 
 Sufficient force to guard thee from assault ; 
 
 And if it be so, better may’st thou spare 
 My absence ; for I hear the shouts resound 
 Of newly-kindled strife. Perhaps these followers. 
 Who staid without, may tell us what has chanc’d. 
 Say, friends, has Mervin plied you with fresh 
 aid? 
 
Chor, Yes, sire, and usefully we posted it 
 Where his consent, confirming the advice 
 We had before receiv’d, directed us. 
 
 Thou see’st their glittering arms. 
 
 Alf. Ha! whose advice? 
 
 Who bade you so defenceless leave the queen, 
 And send these troops so far without her call? 
 Chor. My liege, ’twas Ceoluph, whose will 
 prevail’d 
 
 To reinforce those passes, which of late 
 He deem’d most dangerous, as apart retir’d. 
 
 To hold, he said, some conference pre-ordain’d, 
 He waited Mervin; and th’ arriving prince 
 Seem’d to confirm the counsel he had giv’n. 
 
 Els, I had from Ethelred myself the promise. 
 That he would send the prince attended thus 
 With needful succour. 
 
 Alf. And I here conferr’d 
 With Ceoluph, appointed first by message; 
 Since just solicitude for England’s cause 
 Warn’d me with jealous eye t’ observe his actions. 
 
 Chor. Alas! then all is plain, and we deceiv’d. 
 When first we saw that lord, he told us here 
 
[ 60 ] 
 
 He should anon receive a prince’s orders : 
 
 But when we spoke our joy thou would’ st arrive. 
 And told him of the queen, conceiving straight, 
 I fear, some dark design, he damp’d our hopes. 
 Explaining now, that ’twas the chief of Wales; 
 Yet promis’d he to speak of our distress. 
 
 While we should ( which he begg’d) awhile retire : 
 And soon his vassal, who with us retir’d, 
 
 Was call’d; and following shortly, we return’d 
 To hear his flattering promise of assistance. 
 
 We doubted then his word, and boasted friend- 
 ship : 
 
 But when, dispatch’d by Ethelred, with aid 
 Mervin arriv’d, we then dismiss’d our scruples, 
 And scarce exchang’d one word to clear this dark- 
 ness. 
 
 So readily the mind, when once convinc’d 
 By any strange appearance, bends all others 
 To suit it, nor can doubt them. Pardon, sire. 
 Alf. All is most true. The vassal’s tim’d re- 
 turn, 
 
 And silence, whichj instructed of the queen. 
 
 He yet observ’d, prove plain conspiracy, 
 
And, as I deem, and rumour holds, some kague 
 With Ireland’s neighb’rlng aids. 
 
 Chor. Sire, we conjure thee, 
 
 Direct us. 
 
 Alf. Mervin bade me, as he past, 
 
 Not disregard his words, but shun the snares 
 
 o , 
 
 Of Ceoluph ; yet thought I not so near 
 
 Straight let some call those guards, and to her 
 chariot 
 
 The rest conduct the queen. I fly t’ insure 
 Her wish’d retreat. \Exit UaMilji 
 
 Elsitha, Chorus^ Woman, 
 
 Eh, Stay, Alfred. Oh! — ^ — 
 
 Chor, Attend— 
 
 Support her fainting frame, thou aged riiatrori. 
 
 Be near Untoward chance ! — But she revives ! 
 
 Els, Afford, good friend, the hospitable shelter 
 Of thy adjoining roof, that so thy cares 
 Soon may reofrll my dissipated spirits. 
 
 One moment pause — then slowly lead me on. 
 
 , \Exeunt together. 
 
[ 62 ] 
 
 \ 
 
 C4horus» 
 
 Chor, How sad distress accumulates, my friends! 
 What noise was that ? The thicket sounds with 
 arms, 
 
 With moving arms, and nigh us. Heav’n forbid 
 They should prevent our aids, who now I see 
 Too distant, though diey sweep with earnest 
 speed, 
 
 Over yon slope approach us. Yes, the foes, 
 Well favour’d by the thicket’s dusky veil. 
 Mournful calamity ! crept noiseless on, 
 
 And, see, surround us! 
 
 Geolnph^ Soldiers, Chorus. 
 
 Ceol. Guards, yield up your charge; 
 
 ^ And be the queen, ye boast to serve, henceforth 
 My prisoner, and my hostage. For this prize 
 1 seek reward from the prevailing 
 Beyond the power of your success* monarch : 
 Then yield to happier fortune, and the art 
 Of higher policy. But what! ye dare 
 
 [They draiu their swords. 
 
Grasping your swords (and vainly do ye grasp 
 them), 
 
 Opp ose what I decree ? 
 
 Chor- Nor shall resign, 
 
 Till every means prove feeble to defend, 
 
 (And we of this secure) whom ’tis our duty 
 Ev’n with our lives to guard. 
 
 Ceol^ Can I dissuade 
 
 Your rashness? Eye these wide -extended files. 
 Then say if rage be prudence? 
 
 Chor, ’Tis most true, 
 
 Superior force is thine, and we must yield; 
 
 Y et does hope still with feeble glimmering cheer 
 us; 
 
 Perhaps reflection may suggest what reverence 
 A virtuous king demands, — a king thyself 
 Hast serv’d with loyalty. 
 
 CeoL And what this king, , 
 
 Who treated slightingly my offers fair 
 Of service, and retains less worthy friends. 
 
 But that I liv'd his subject, and content, 
 
 O think it not, nor tarnish thus the glory 
 Which from the faithful intercourse I draw 
 
( 64 J 
 
 That leagues me with the Dane, and long has 
 leagu'd me. 
 
 His heav'n -supported arms abtain’d my favour, 
 Obtain’d my aid. Ye vainly would resist him, 
 Though from a thousand Athelneys ye pour’d, 
 Tir’ d of misfortune’s miserable shifts: 
 
 Too wide has conquest’s arm establish’d power. 
 Chor, We thought thou hadst deny’d th’ im- 
 puted actions 
 
 Which wrong accusers would persuade us of. 
 And blam’d aloud the baseness of mistrust 
 
 CcoL In sooth, ’twas well to temporize, and 
 watch. 
 
 Arm’d with mock proofs of false fidelity, 
 
 A rash pretender’s motions, and wild hopes. 
 
 Y et know, I boast of the successful art 
 That could secure th’ advent’rous Dane his 
 light, 
 
 That right which conquest ever gives the brave r 
 Less noble ends might sanctify the deed. 
 
 But mark, attentive — Look ye that no word 
 Be utter’d, pointing to outrageous insult, 
 
 Or any ill-advis’d attempt. Such an offence 
 
[ 65 ] 
 
 Your forfeit lives shall expiate: — caution’d thus, 
 I leave ye. \Exit, 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Scm. In what refuge shall the peace 
 Of sad Elsitha shelteV from the storm ? 
 
 How shall we break its force? which she, alas! 
 Too soon may feel o’erwhelm her sinking spirit, 
 Instructed of the chance. Has art ingredients 
 With which to sweeten the distasteful cup, 
 Cheering beneath despair? If thou can’st counsel, 
 Delay not, 
 
 Sem. Yes, to music’s aid, my friends, 
 
 Let us resort, and fortify the mind 
 
 With soothing sound, ev’n against certain pain; 
 
 Yet lest, by mirth enfeebled, it forbid 
 
 Familiar to support misfortune’s glance, 
 
 Be our sad theme the country which sends forth. 
 
 The foes who here surround us, and the song - 
 
 What first the British minstrel wak’d to mourn. 
 
 The recent fortune of that neidib’rincr land. 
 
 o o 
 
 Sem. And when your plaintive strain has ceas’d, 
 shall some 
 
 E 
 
i 66 j 
 
 Discover to tlie queen, by slow degrees, 
 
 That mournful fate prudence would now withholds 
 
 " ' SONG. 
 
 O nations, urg’d by hostile fate. 
 
 To brave, in adverse ranks, the war. 
 Taught Heaven’s mild lore, nor mov’d of late 
 The Pagan victor’s arts t’ abhor ; 
 
 For ever quench your kindled rage, 
 
 And, ah! no more that vengeance waste, 
 Doom’d for the impious head above, 
 
 Or bear at length, with rival haste. 
 
 Such lenient aid of peaceful love 
 As may its ling’ ring ills assuage. 
 
 Oft as the year, from winter freed. 
 
 Levels the surge, and guides the gales. 
 New fleets decree the south to bleed. 
 
 With threat’ ning prows, and swelling sails. 
 Keen rapine, selfish treach’ry, there, 
 
 And cruelty, to hell’s affray 
 Inviting, o’er their vot’ries lowr : 
 
 Are these, ah! vanquish’d Eirin, say, 
 
[ 67 ] 
 
 The mortals, or each patron power 
 A god, whose glory claims thy care. 
 
 Aw’d is thy tongue, but not those eyes, 
 Indignant at the galling chain ; 
 
 They speak, as Britain^'s self, of ties 
 That mutual may your sons maintain 
 In endless union, blest and free. 
 
 Whence the fair isles, with strength com- 
 bin’d. 
 
 Shall happiness, in every land, 
 
 From arms protect, and wrong design’d, 
 And, amid waves securely stand. 
 
 The citadels of liberty. 
 
 I 
 
 E2 
 
ACT IV. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Chor. We must perforce break off; for, see, 
 not far 
 
 The chief approaching ; and behind him comes 
 One whom he haply to the care allots 
 Of the ill-starr’d Elsitha. Now, behold, 
 Stretching his hand, he presses on to speak. 
 
 Ceoluph, Dane, CJ torus. 
 
 CeoL Instant resign the prisoner, whom ye 
 serve, 
 
 To the safe custody of this new guard; 
 
 The author of such valiant deeds this day 
 W rought in so fiir a cause. Yield her to him, 
 Whose faith shall raise to trust, which better far 
 Comports with such rare merit, than your claims. 
 Seditious traitors! who, with whisp’rings here, 
 Aim to corrupt the allies of the Dane, 
 Surrounding ye; and with rebellious harps, 
 
Enkindling discontent, assay their truth. 
 
 But well shall ye henceforth be mark’d in mis- 
 chief, 
 
 And fail of its intent ; observ’d by one 
 Whose presence shall importunately guard ye. 
 
 [Exit, 
 
 Dane, Chorus. 
 
 Chor. We yield, as we are bid, our charge; 
 but hope 
 
 That mild behaviour, and respectful treatment, 
 The dues both of her sex and lofty station, 
 
 Yoar office, unconfin’d, will grant a queen. 
 Dane. Fear not more hardship than that office 
 bids; 
 
 And it enforces only the sure care 
 Of watchfulness, and just fidelity. 
 
 Thy queen perhaps is here. 
 
 Chor. Though ill -prepar’d, 
 
 Indeed, to bear this shew of hostile harshness, 
 Which with thy courteous meaning unexplain’d, 
 Ere yet the shock of her surprise abate, 
 
 And firmer nerves assist, may cause regret. 
 
[ 70 ] 
 
 Dane. Has she so ill sustain^ the chance of 
 war? 
 
 Choy\ If ’tis no treason to your cause to tender 
 The medicinal aid of heavenly music 
 To pining sickness, and fear-vanquish'd beauty, 
 Then, then believe, we merit not the taunt 
 Experienc’d' from this lord, and woke our harps 
 To quiet pain, but not to kindle passion: 
 Ignorant, alas’, if now death^s icy hand 
 Extend not o^er the queen, and every moment 
 Threaten existence with its mortal touch. 
 
 Does sympathy with female helplessness, 
 
 Which on this earth is most observM t^ inhabit^ 
 The bosom of the brave, inhabit thine? 
 
 Let me, then, first forewarn her with the tale, 
 And gradual break the cause that brings thee 
 hither. 
 
 What orders thou was told to execute. 
 
 Whence com’st: she then may seek 'thy inter- 
 view. 
 
 . Dane, That busy youth, among my brother 
 Danes, 
 
 Oft kept me in this land, or brought me hither. 
 
Intent to ravage uncoittroll’d these fields 
 Of fertile beaut v, and to death devote 
 The tender and defenceless, this will scarce 
 Furnish a needful source of consolation; 
 
 Yet mays’t thou add, that time has gain’d me 
 o^er 
 
 A proselyte to mercy’s own religion, 
 
 Chor, Unlook’d-for chance! O, tell it — tell 
 me all; 
 
 That soothM by every gleam of healing comfort, 
 Which I may to her willing eyes unveil, 
 
 She need not from the chano;e receive alarm! 
 What fortune won thee to our holy faith ! 
 
 Dane. Know, 1 was of that hord, who, from 
 the east, 
 
 With Sitric, Ivar, and tlieir brother Amlave, 
 Follow’d t’ invade the fertile fields of Ireland, 
 And made our landing good. Then, by degrees, 
 We stretch’d our power, leaving no toil untryM; 
 For we employ’d not force alone, but art, 
 
 And oft to the deluded natives seem’d 
 But guests, who sought their hospitable shore, 
 Averse from blood, and little mov’d by need. 
 
Tins pleas’d them. To procure their fuller fa- 
 vour, ^ \ 
 
 Mingling amidst their families, ere yet 
 The whole submitting isle had own’d our power. 
 And many a stubborn contest undeceiv’d them, 
 There were who scrupled not t’ embrace their 
 faith. 
 
 More follow’d that example and of these 
 Was 1. Since when, it still was my endeavour 
 To blunt war’s dreaded edge, and best t’ unite 
 The duties of a Christian and a soldier. 
 
 Chor, Compeird by thy superiors into war, 
 Perhaps thou lind’st it difficult t’ observe 
 The precepts mild thy judgment has approv’d? 
 Dane, I left them not, if e’er the times al- 
 io w^’d. 
 
 Oft have I from a brotlier warrior snatch’d 
 The wailing innocent, and timely stay’d 
 Th’ uplifted sword. In these surrounding domes, 
 Raz’d to the ground, full many a holy man 
 Late ow’d his safety to my secret counsel. 
 
 Or needful mediation ; which I sparM not, 
 
 Glad to restrain the wild career of carnage. 
 
Chor, And wliat intent brought thee to this 
 our country,' 
 
 Bearing against its sons auxiliar arms? 
 
 Dane, Nor hope of spoil, nor base antipatliy. 
 Ivar, when all things he had deem’d compos d 
 In his new conquest, plann’d a swift descent, 
 With Hubba, that fierce Dane, whose standard 
 Pagans 
 
 Held as enchanted, and portentous hop’d 
 Upon the ill-protected shores of England: 
 
 For the three sisters of the chief had wove it 
 (’Twas rumour’d) in one day, a raven’s image, 
 Hence term’d the Raven. It awak’d high hopes 
 Through all his Pagan followers ; but in vain. 
 Me, as for skill in arms, and deeds extoll’d. 
 
 He took to the successless enterprize; 
 
 Whence, flying late, I reach’d the Danish camp. 
 For need I tell th’ event of that sad conflict 
 Upon the banks of Tau, with Devon’s earl; 
 Where, all dispers’d, some to the ships betook 
 them ; 
 
 The rest sought other wars, and Hubba fell ? 
 
 O’er whom, performing fun’ral rites, we pil’d — 
 
 \Koise of arms^ 
 
■ [ 74 ] ‘ 
 
 Chor» What sound of neighbVing strife arrests 
 thy tale? 
 
 Dane, Cf torus. Woman. 
 
 Worn. O, say, didye not hear some tumult, 
 friends, 
 
 That haply threats this unprotected mansion. 
 And that so precious life expos’d within? 
 
 Is it the battle's near approach ? 
 
 Dane. "'Tis o’er : 
 
 The prompt assailants are repell’d again. 
 
 Clior. Tell our sad mistress, aged cottager. 
 
 No danger threatens. But does she now bear 
 Health more confirm’d than late ; and has th’ effect 
 Of swift depression, banish’d, left her frame 
 _ Less feeble, and less harass’d than before, 
 
 Or broods imprudent fancy o’er her sorrows? 
 
 Worn. Miraculous has been indeed the change. 
 Long did I vainly labour to restore, 
 
 W ith every means of anxious care, her strength; 
 When looking on her soon, I view’d her rapt 
 In pleasing contemplation. First her eye 
 Betray’d new life, and next her alter’d cheek ; 
 Vigour and wonted motion then ensu’d. 
 
[ 75 ] . 
 
 Silent she sate, yet casting often upward 
 A pensive glance, that spoke no idle mind. 
 Methinks religion thus avail’d, to chase 
 Despair, and every hindrance which it brought, 
 To the swift step of her recovery; 
 
 For, steel’d by resignation, she seems borne 
 In thought high above earth, and earthly cares, 
 And holding; sweet communion with the blest. 
 Chor, Then is our purpose favour’d by the 
 time. — 
 
 Tell her that, fall’n into the pow’r of foes, 
 
 We must transfer our charge to him we see. 
 
 Say, that he sues his audience : yet say, too, 
 
 By birth a Dane, he comes from neighb’ring 
 Ireland", 
 
 Whose faith, adopted for his own, directs him 
 By milder laws. 
 
 IVom. Tis mournful — But I go. [ExiL 
 
 Dane^ Chorus, 
 
 Chor, Thus, with sincere submission to high 
 heaven, 
 
 Our sovereigns temper their instructive lives. 
 
f 76 ] 
 
 Not, like licentious bigotry, still ready 
 With new repentance to efface omission : 
 
 They suit th’ unchanging tenor of their days 
 To inward piety; which so they prove, 
 
 Doirio- it honour amono; frail-born men : 
 
 And less such lives need sacred dispensation. 
 
 It is the prayer of England, she may oft 
 So boast the pattern of a spotless court, 
 
 Dane, And may such merit not escape due 
 notice 
 
 From my superiors; for what 1 can do, 
 
 (Which honour and good faith forbid me not, 
 Entrusted as a soldier with your charge) 
 
 To better her estate, on that depend. 
 
 Choi\ But see, the queen herself comes forth 
 to seek thee. 
 
 Elsitlta^ Dane, Chorus, 
 
 Els, Welcome is here thy presence, courteous 
 
 stranger : 
 o 
 
 Nor , wilt thou find the exercise of office 
 Or thwarted by objection’s wayward scruples, 
 
 Or an unwilling mind. That we profess 
 
[ 77 ] 
 
 Like faith, and like regard of mercy’s dictates, ' 
 (Though thou art o’er me plac’d, an hostile guard) 
 For that do I give thanks, with grateful heait, 
 
 To Him who is the common lord and ruler 
 Of warring nations, and divided tribes. 
 
 Thou coin’st from Ireland’s coast. Oft have I 
 mus’d 
 
 With secret pleasure on its favour’d fields; 
 Where many a solemn structure rears its height, 
 The school and seat of Christian piety. 
 
 Thence does the sable -vested inmate roam 
 Full oft to neighb’ring lakes, o’erhung with 
 shade. 
 
 And cherish contemplation, with the charms 
 Of soothing silence, and neglected nature; 
 Growino; devouter, while celestial forms 
 Rise unimpeded to his ravish’d sight. 
 
 Long has it been the very nursery 
 
 Of our blest faith, this goodly land ; and hence • 
 
 ’Tis call’d the Isle of Saints, by Christian Europe. 
 
 \A noise, 
 
 Chor, Again that mingled sound — ^ 
 
 Dane, Princess, I go 
 
, [ 78 ] 
 
 Constrain’d; not far, with waving hand, the 
 chief 
 
 Who brought me hither, warns me to his pre- 
 sence. 
 
 I shall not long be absent ; and, mean while. 
 
 Our common Deity watch o’er thy fate ! [Exit. 
 
 Elsitha^ Chorus, 
 
 Chor. O, queen, with better hopes I scan our 
 fortunes, 
 
 (Though sad its aspect) since this guard discovers 
 With fav’ring ear he listen’d to the speech 
 By which I to thy suffering virtue guided 
 His chain’d attention. Then shew’d he full plain 
 Th’ involuntary look of new regard. 
 
 For thee, and for thy lord; speaking as friendly. 
 Despair not, ransom, uiioppos’d by hate. 
 
 May quick restore thee to thy progeny ; 
 
 Into the docile mind t’ instil again 
 
 Right royal precepts ; and again prepare them 
 
 For actions and a rank their birth demands. 
 
 Els. Whate’er befall us, I no more repine; 
 Or howe’er Providence dispose events. 
 
[ 79 ] 
 
 Is’t not their guardian Power, who, from its 
 airy, 
 
 Sends forth the fearless eaglets, to extend 
 Unpractis’d plumes, with wonted awe to fill 
 Inferior birds, and wing the subject air? 
 
 Each blessing, or each curse, from him be hail’d ! 
 
 Elsitha, Dane, Chorus. 
 
 Dane. Would that more grateful news, re- 
 spected princess, 
 
 Were mine t’ unfold to thy attentive ear, 
 Crowning solicitation with success ; 
 
 And not the story, rather, of worse woe 
 Than thou art arm’d t’ endure by expectation, 
 Ev’n in sad times. I ask’d of Ceoluph 
 Favours a captive might not blush to crave : 
 Abruptly did that lord reply, and say, 
 
 ’Twas not now time to cherish apprehensions 
 Of aught, save of the foe; his second charge 
 Scarce over, while our front ill bore the onset. 
 Retreat grew needful, and of this he warns thee : 
 Bidding to follow, but with two of these — 
 
 No larger number : for the rest, to leave them. 
 
[ 80 ] 
 
 He must not be endanger’d in his schemes, 
 
 He says, by enemies conniving near. 
 
 Chor. Soldier, retract thy speech, or, ohl at 
 least. 
 
 With virtuous disobedience win more praise, 
 
 , Than could performance of injurious duty. 
 
 O, set the queen at large, or take her train 1 
 Els. Forbear 
 
 Dane. Most positive are my commands, 
 
 Nor brooking interruption, nor delay ; 
 
 And our retreating troops, already come, 
 Warning us hence. 
 
 Els. I follow where thou lead’st. 
 
 Char. Thou wilt not, haply, though denying 
 much — ' • 
 
 Thou wilt not fail, at our desire, t’ observe 
 That fiery lord, and through the battle shun 
 His dang’rous presence. 
 
 Dane. Honour must approve 
 What I, herein to serve you, chance t’ effect. 
 \^Dane exit^ and Queen unmoved, Chorus weeping. 
 
[ 81 ] 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Sern. Let us behind these crowded trunks 
 eive room, 
 
 o 
 
 Unnotic’d, to th’ impassion’d combatants, 
 
 And wait them. 
 
 ^The Irish retreat across the stage ^ pursued by 
 the Welch and Eno'lish. 
 
 o 
 
 Now they pass us, and move on. 
 
 How swiftly do those fly, and these pursue, 
 
 With mended pace, each moment, o'er the 
 
 Victorious are indeed our troops in battle, 
 
 But not so is our cause, while held remote, 
 
 The prize of enemies, the fair Elsitha, 
 
 England’s bright honour, and our much-lov’d 
 mistress. 
 
 Accompanies an host of foes, enrag’d 
 At adverse strife, with their imperious leader; 
 And, as our arms more pow’rfully prevail. 
 
 With so much quicker progress she recedes. 
 
 Scm. Perhaps no more will she be seen again, 
 Following to miserable haunts her lord, 
 
 F 
 
[ 82 ] 
 
 Where his unhappy country’^ cause reqtiirM 
 him : 
 
 No more receive him there, from toilsome war; 
 There soothe his sorrow, there support with him, 
 Array’d in sordid garb, the pains of hunger; 
 Found with tlie foremost of that patriot group, 
 Which form’d the doleful picture of distress. 
 
 Can we again aspire, my friends, to see them^ 
 Unequall’d pair 1 when pinching want oppresses, 
 When o’er their squalid forms as plain appears 
 The signs of misery, as we beheld them late, 
 Reach from the threshold to th’ imploring beggar, 
 The last poor remnant of their wretched food? 
 Then did the river, as by heav’n’s command, 
 
 Y ield plenteous recompence : but did they more 
 Deserve, than every day we bless? — than now? 
 Sem* What means this winder? Our associate 
 here, 
 
 Breathless with haste I 
 
 Chorus^ Attendant. 
 
 Attend. Advance the chariot straight, 
 The queen is rescu’d, and the battle ours! 
 
[ S3 1 
 
 Some go, and hither urge the lingering steeds. 
 
 \Some go out, 
 
 Ckor, Say how it chancVl? — Most fortunate 
 event 1 
 
 Attend, Slow, as we passM, and moving in 
 the troop 
 
 Who HankM the utmost rear, in dread t' advance 
 To that disloyal chieftain, our betrayer, 
 
 (Who hence, enrag^’d, had summon^ to his 
 presence 
 
 Our guard, and left us unattended there) 
 
 Far through the files a gallant band, though few. 
 Beheld it. With most unexampled daring, 
 Scarce credible, did they around us stand. 
 
 Like sudden phantoms, and upbore the queen, 
 While the surprise, yet rife, befriended them; 
 Till urgM at length, or hurried by the crowd, 
 All found a distant and secure repose; 
 
 And, looking back, we saw the routed foe. 
 
 Chor, ^Tis certain. But observe, where late 
 we gaz^’d. 
 
 The field, both by the victors and the vanquish^, 
 Is left deserted, coverM but by slain ; 
 
 F2 
 
The rest have movM far off. Y et , though released , 
 Be not too confident the queen shall come 
 Free from the neighbourhood of fierce confusion. 
 Rejoice we ; but reflect what chance may thwart 
 her, 
 
 Ere the steeds reach, or hence transport to safety. 
 The wise ne^er triumph, blind to distant danger; 
 Nor wait tlf event despairing. That new strain, 
 InspiFd by this day's first success, mean while 
 Shall, in exulting sounds, attest our joy. 
 
 SONd. 
 
 Heard by the Scotian prince with joy 
 So late, resounded o^er his hall 
 By tuneful bards, th' amaze of all, 
 
 Our deeds shall more exulting chords employ ^ 
 And friendship's wakeful ear recall. 
 
 Blest be the day,’' they sang, “ th’ auspT 
 “ cious day, 
 
 ‘ ‘ When strong resistance curb'd our foes ; 
 
 < & When, seen conspicuous o’er his vanquish'd 
 “ clay, 
 
 '‘ VThc I’uneral mound of Hubba rose. 
 
[ 85 ] 
 
 “ Yc waves, that lash the lofty shore 
 “ Whence his returning squadron flew, 
 “Ye might not Britain's virtue view 
 Alone; but from the grots of ocean hoar, 
 
 “ Far, far remote, on labour new 
 “ Intent; her chief obscur’d in base attire 
 “ His warlike limbs, and bore the charms 
 “ Of music to the haunt of licence dire, 
 
 “ That fury throng’d with adverse arms% 
 
 “ Pleas’d at his mirthful mood, and pleas’d 
 “ At his soft harp’s bewitching tone, 
 
 “ (While he each secret spied unknown) 
 “ The warriors cherish the sweet bane, that 
 “ eas’d 
 
 ‘ ‘ The heart ofcare — yet, threat’ning shewn, 
 • ‘ Soon shall his myriads move from Selwood’s 
 “ glade. 
 
 “ Near valour, bursting from the bands 
 “ Of faint despondence, with resistless aid 
 “ Obedient faith still ready stands.” 
 
O, realm of ever-living strains ! 
 
 Thus music breath’d her soft relief: 
 
 But, rather, now, the slaughter’d chief, 
 And banners wrested from th’ astonish’d 
 Danes, 
 
 Of mystic woof, their fond belief 
 Of Alfred’s tale, and his successful wiles. 
 
 Chant to thy harps; for, doom’d to cease, 
 ^Now first has battle, with propitious smiles. 
 Usher’d the blest approach of peace. 
 
ACT V. 
 
 Chorus* 
 
 Cfior, Heav’nsl see I not approaching near, 
 alone, 
 
 Tlie comrade who remain’d? ’Tis but too true. 
 1 seeic in vain the queen; and doubtless, now. 
 That air, and hand against his forehead press’d. 
 Denote some direful change. Soon shall we 
 know. 
 
 Chorus^ Attendant. 
 
 Attend, Mourn, ye who trembled for your 
 expos’d mistress. 
 
 That fate has snatch’d her from our guard again. 
 
 Chor. Scarce need I wish develop’d more thy 
 tale. 
 
 Since worse thou can’st not say. 
 
 Attend. Soon as at length 
 The queen shook off th’ effect of that surprise 
 Wrought by her bold deliverance, we espied 
 
Upon the left-hand steep, and farther on, 
 
 A neighb’ring gateway, where a convent once 
 Arose, but by the Danes long since destroy’d ; 
 
 It now but form’d the outworks of their camp. 
 Hither we bent our course, and hop’d to join 
 Th’ expected car, resting awhile unseen : 
 
 For towards the right, beneath the self-same 
 hill. 
 
 The tide of battle flow’d, and mov’d away — 
 Mov’d, as we thought, away : yet did we err; 
 All soon beheld th’ impetuous Ceoluph, 
 
 Who circled the same height in swift retreat, 
 Pour in his followers through a distant gate. 
 
 Our fate was then before our^ eyes, and each 
 Look’d at the other with despondent gaze. 
 Helpless we ponder’d on the angry spirit 
 Our late escape might waken, and had borne 
 Suspense but ill, yet shrunk from certainty, 
 FeaFd in his threat’ning aspect. 
 
 Chor, What ensued? 
 
 AltencL When seen, like eagles did the chiefs 
 approach us, 
 
 Inclosing with inevitable arms; 
 
[ 89 ] 
 
 Then turn'd, and-at that narrow pass prepar'd 
 To front the foes, and to embitter sorrow. 
 
 Cho)\ Mean'st thou the queen, from wanton- 
 ness of pow’r. 
 
 Bore audit of insult? 
 
 Attend, She, alasl o'erwhelm’d 
 By grief, when last constrain'd I sought you forth, 
 Lay motionless, so dire a scene of death 
 AlEicted her 1 
 
 Chor, Of death? Pursue thy tale. 
 
 Attend. Th' unpitying lord, as 'twere to ex- 
 cite them, too. 
 
 By the strong spur of fierce severity. 
 
 Bade each attend his words. “ Too much," he 
 cry’d, 
 
 “ Our lenity has borne, too easy made 
 “ The task of triumph o’er indulgent goodness. 
 
 Let beauty and let majesty confess it, 
 
 “ I have been kind. I spar’d their state at- 
 “ tendants, 
 
 “ And they but turn the arms I gave against me. 
 “ Quit, then, thy mistress, and to Alfred tell, 
 
 “ That henceforth safe I shall convey my hostage 
 
[ 90 ] 
 
 “ Beyond his busiest search. Say, too, the Dane 
 ‘‘ Who leagu’d with you, and faithless to his 
 ‘‘ trust, ' . 
 
 “ Resign’d his charge, attains not Ireland’s fa- 
 vour; 
 
 Her sons full gladly see him undergo 
 Due punishment; and, by the just example, 
 Their conscious worth is rouz’d to nobler 
 “ deeds.’’ 
 
 He spoke, and to the veteran soldier flew, 
 
 And smote him. Turning then, he look^'d 
 around, 
 
 Expecting sure applause ; but through the ranks 
 A general murmur spread, as they beheld 
 Their fav’rite leader dying, if death truly 
 Guided the blade^ He fell, and, as he lay, 
 
 Oft with faint voice protested innocence. 
 
 Chor. Alas! that virtue should, to mortal eyes. 
 Seem so begirt with ills, and Heav’n’s highways. 
 Inexplicable, spite of reason, pain usl 
 We hop’d that to this soldier was decreed 
 An honour’d peaceful age, so well deserv’d 
 By that humanity he shew’d of late, 
 
That tender sympathy for others’ sufferings. 
 Didst thou then hither straight direct thy course? 
 Attend, Yes; then, amid the throngs who 
 barr’d the entrance, 
 
 I won my way to bring this piteous tale. 
 
 Chor, O how should we now suffer, did he 
 come, 
 
 Our august sovereign’s unsuspecting glance? 
 How would our tongue perform its arduous office, 
 First to unfold 
 
 Alfred, Followers, Chorus, 
 
 Alf. Haste, lead me to the queen: 
 
 And let her, in new tidings, read her safety. 
 
 The enemy’s main force, reduc’d by slaughter, 
 And harass’d by pursuit, which ours maintain 
 With strength renew’d, and undiminish’d num- 
 bers. 
 
 Follow their leaders to that distant castle 
 O’erlooking far the plain. They go, but vainly : 
 1 he gallant Ethelred so close pursues ! 
 
 Sure of his power, he fears no tardy siege. 
 
 Mean while I hither came, lest any chance 
 
Should have detain’d you herq, and need my 
 presence. 
 
 But wherefore is this silence? why does doubt 
 Of what I speak appear to check your triumph ? 
 Cfior^ We are compelfd to say the worst, 
 The queen 
 
 Is seiz’d ; and yonder proof may seem sufficient 
 To shew the day too incompletely gain’d. 
 Preceded, see, and follow'd as their prisoner. 
 
 The royal Mervin winds along the path, 
 
 Among his foes, approaching to this spot, 
 
 Alfred^ Mervin^ and Irish ^ Chorus. 
 
 Alf. Grasp, Englishmen, prepar’d, your sav- 
 ing weapons. 
 
 And win from hostile hands the noble prisoner, 
 
 YThcy draw. 
 
 Merv. Alfred, thou aptly might’st surmise 
 that I, ' 
 
 Hemra’d round with weapons, reeking with the 
 life-blood 
 
 Of my own followers, meet thee here a prisoner. 
 But know, far different is the cause that brings me, ^ 
 
[ 95 ] 
 
 And brings too these. 
 
 Alf, Say’st thou? what other cause? 
 
 Merv, This fierce parade, marking severe conv 
 straint ; 
 
 These following and precedingarms, may wrongly 
 Shew such injoin’d to spy my guarded actions, 
 As but obey my will. 
 
 Alf, Insulting prince ! 
 
 I note how friendly to thy hopes they come. 
 And dost thou mean with taunting to assist 
 The stings of thy defection, w^hich esteem 
 Of thy suppos’d desert, through disappointment* 
 Perhaps enough would arm. Yet am I us’d 
 To crosses sad as these. The clouds that hover 
 O’er these first years of my tumultuous reign, 
 Have not spread total night, — not yet extinguish’d 
 Each spark of loyal firmness : yet by many, 
 
 By far too many, fearing for my cause, 
 
 Have I been left. Their treachery— 
 
 Merv . Hear me , A 1 fred ! 
 
 And of this new appearance learn the reason. 
 
 Alf. E enon this day such stratagems, as long 
 I ruitless have prov’d, again have threaten’d ruin : 
 
[ 94 ] 
 
 I 
 
 Yet look’d I not for more, now that success 
 Display’d innumerable hosts in flight. 
 
 Our favour’d arms deceiv’d me : Say from whence, 
 What villages, what mountain-streams of Wales 
 Brought’ st thou betime those legions, who must 
 change 
 
 The fortune of the day, and second these 
 Thy myrmidons ? or tell me, is it thou 
 That hold’st in stern captivity our queen ? 
 
 Merv, The queen is free, and by this sword 
 enlarg’d. 
 
 That slew the traitor Ceoluph. 
 
 Alf. Amazement! 
 
 What say ’st thou ? F ate forbid thy words mislead : 
 And pardon, if it err, my swift suspicion. 
 
 Menu In th’ undreamt changes of irregular 
 fight. 
 
 Sudden, before us, parted from the rest, 
 
 Did we descry a troop, in whom, full plainly. 
 One shone in arms, whose liberty were danger, 
 That Ceoluph. His person to possess, 
 
 And humble his battalion, we essay’d 
 Round them, ere aided by the distant Dane, 
 
To clrilw our circle of superiP)r numbers. 
 
 But seeing us, they fled. From shapeless walls^ 
 A convent once, the remnant of baibarians, 
 Tliey sought protection, and, by these debarr’d, 
 Did we resign our hope ; yet on the gate 
 Directed all our fury. There ^Ye stood. 
 
 Strife then arose, and rag’d with mutual wounds. 
 At once, soon as the battle’s ardour seem’d 
 To suffer pause, forth stepping from the crowd, 
 In act t’ encourage them, the lord advanc’d. 
 
 I mark’d his boastful speech, and sprang to meet 
 him. 
 
 To those behind I then with signs made knowm 
 My purpose; but he warn’d not thus alike 
 His men to rest aloof, and urg’d them onward. 
 As from disgust, withholding prompt obedience, 
 They left him to the combat. Shame at length 
 Rouz’d him to dare my heav’n-assisted steel. 
 Alf, Thou bring’st clear proof of ever-faithful 
 valour : 
 
 But wherefore thus accompanied ? 
 
 Merv. In place 
 
 Of newly-waken’d vengeance, looking up, 
 
I found but in the countenance of all 
 Who stood oppos’d, the cheering glance of favour. 
 Within the gateway^ with inviting voice 
 They beckon’d me , where , prostrate on the ground ^ 
 Welt’ring in blood, an aged soldier lay. 
 
 Whom by the tyrant struck their tongue declar’d, 
 Not slain, for unexpected life just then 
 Illum’d his faded features. Acts like this, 
 
 And agents so detested, they declin’d 
 Henceforth t’ uphold, bidding me to thy station 
 Conduct them. From thy bounty they implore 
 The friendly refuge of a Christian clime, 
 
 And freedom in thy country from the yoke 
 That galls their own* 
 
 Alf. And do our arms not risk 
 Some other obstacle, some check, save these 
 The welcome natives of a friendly land, 
 
 Who heighten ancient love with reconcilement? 
 Timely spectators of the work they come 
 Which means to spread that peace their faith ap- 
 proves. 
 
 Merv, All fear is groundless now. On the 
 * clear’d field 
 
[ 97 ] 
 
 The queen remains alone, with those besides, 
 Tlie few collected round her. 
 
 She there stays? 
 
 Merv. She does. When first, in search of 
 thee employ’d 
 
 I left her, mercifully seem’d her thoughts, 
 
 All bent on the assuagement of those pangs 
 The warriors wounds excite, and his life’s surety. 
 Beside a fountain, wasting now its stores. 
 Frequented once by the sad brotherhood, 
 
 To slake their thirst, or household wants supply, 
 She stood. ' Compliant hands, at her command, 
 Lav’d off the clotted stream, and on his face 
 Sprinkled the cooling wave. Not unrewarded 
 Does heavenly condescension^stoop thus low, 
 And surer health at every moment soothes 
 Her gratitude. 
 
 Alf, Then did she aught experience 
 Of favour, that should move her to be grateful? 
 Perhaps her sufferings by this pitying foe 
 Were lighten’d. 
 
 Merv, That they were she oft avows, 
 
 And o’er and o’er denies she can forget it, 
 
 G 
 
Withholding equal aid from him who suffer^ 
 But in her cause, oflate her generous guard. 
 
 Let thy victorious presence greet her view, 
 
 As might some angel, dropt from seats of bliss, 
 Rewarding virtue. Listen first, then go. 
 
 Alf, What would’ St thou farther speak? 
 
 Merv, ’Tis known already 
 That Cadelh and myself, the younger sons 
 Of Roderick, lord of Wales, who left between us* 
 Its southern parts submitted to thy sway : 
 
 And now let me unfold what Anarawd, 
 
 Our elder brother, wills ; — by thy success 
 Releas’d from awe of armies on his frontiers', 
 Who bids me say, sending thee word, henceforth 
 He means to join our league, and place alike 
 Beneath thy rule his northern provinces. 
 
 Alf, ’Tis true. Success has far transcended 
 hopes, ^ 
 
 That, ere this day were harbour’d for our cause, 
 Our long unhappy cause; and Fortune smiles. 
 Show’ ring her favours with unsparing hand. 
 Now does the island, south of Tweeda^s stream^ 
 Unbid confess that rule, invasion crush’d; 
 
And all beyond its bordering waves shall own 
 The seir-same master; the sagacious Gregory, 
 
 As earnestly soliciting protection, 
 
 Mindful what high advantage will redound 
 To our domains, in lasting union join’d. 
 
 But let us not, as dazzled by success. 
 
 And prone to exultation, slight one care: 
 Though ardour summon to th’ invested rampart, 
 Stay, first, and bear with thee my terms of peace. 
 Merv. I stay alone to listen and obey thee. 
 AlfJ Say, that whoe’er, converted from the 
 worship 
 
 Of Danish gods, shall own the Christian faith, 
 Its useful precepts, and convincing truths. 
 Through the whole hostile army, from this day, 
 All shall partake the boon our will allots. 
 
 Where Mercia’s dukedom stretches over England 
 Its central space, inclosing fertile fields, 
 
 There we project th’ intended colony. 
 
 There purpose to distribute lands to all, 
 
 That may be the reward of new belief. 
 
 This let their leader know, the bold Godrune, 
 Informing if his army so consent 
 
 G2 
 
[ 100 ] 
 
 To gain our favour, and embrace our faith. 
 
 'AIL All hail to Alfred, merciful as brave! 
 
 \Exit Mery in, 
 
 Alfred, Chorus, Soldiers, 
 
 Alf, Tor us, my English subjects, much re- 
 mains : 
 
 ’Tis our laborious task to found a state 
 First of all nations, on just reason’s rules, 
 
 And on the base of genuine liberty ; 
 
 A state the pensive sage has wish’d — not seen : 
 For well ye knowhow long oppression’s scourge, 
 Wav’d by th’ unwearied hand of partial law, 
 
 Has curst the bleeding country, and the poor: 
 Well know tis time t’oppose to rampant power 
 The shield of still expected privileges. 
 
 AIL Long Alfred live, the guardian of the 
 poor. 
 
 Alf. Yes, no more baffled through degenerate 
 custom, 
 
 But by new laws acquiring ten-fold vigour, 
 
 Now shall, with majesty reviv’d, be seen 
 Resplendent justice, and her dictates guide ; 
 
I 
 
 [ lOI ] 
 
 As erst amoncr our German forefathers. 
 
 o 
 
 . Twelve men shall judge the accus’d, whate’er his 
 rank, 
 
 Of the like rank : as they pronounce, or judge, 
 Be he or duke, or baron, or less noted; 
 
 Be it or daring crime, or light omission ; 
 
 Alike shall swift reward or punishment 
 Be duly dealt. No more, regretted henceforth. 
 Law’s brightest weapon in disuse shall rust. 
 
 AIL May we, and our descendants, long be' 
 grateful. 
 
 Alf. Now let us safe exult, now safely feel 
 Th’ enthusiast’s ardour for our country’s cause, 
 Secure of fav’ring Heav’n; and every wreathe 
 Anticipated, gratify reflection. 
 
 Whose lustre, in old times, your songs indite. 
 Chor. Long Alfred reign, to make those glo- 
 ries ours ! 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Slow descending from the plains 
 Of liquid ether, and the peopled sky, 
 The converse of the blest resign’d, 
 
[ 102 ] 
 
 Daughters of peace, th’ inventive arts from 
 high 
 
 Smile sweet on their remember’d earth, 
 And balanc’d on the clouds, explore inclin’d 
 What guardian spirit, whence he reigns, 
 With beckoning hand, permitted from above, 
 And voice exulting, bade them speed 
 Round whom himself, and powers aerial love, 
 (To win the noblest realm decreed) 
 
 Their blessings wide t’ extend, and wake their 
 fruits to birdi. 
 
 Heav’nly harbingers of joy. 
 
 Come, and below, enchanting nearer, smile. 
 Stor’d with the secret skill ye boast. 
 
 Or wealth t’ improve, or poverty beguile: 
 Come, and the trackless desert so-w 
 With Autumn’s yearly pride; but o’er the’ 
 coast. 
 
 Let commerce all her sons employ, 
 
 T’ adorn with glories of remotest lands 
 Wide cities, your stupendous work. 
 
 For all things own, with well-instructed hands. 
 
[ 103 ] 
 
 Each other s aid, ye leave to lurk 
 Unprais’d no genuine charm, no labour use- 
 less grow. 
 
 Not the thought-inspiring stream 
 Of fam’d Ilissus, or the sage’s bowers; 
 
 Not Tibur’s banks your steps attend; 
 
 ’Twas Britain’s genius to the bord’ring flowers 
 Of limpid Thames that call’d so long 
 Your radiant beauty, where in pride ascend 
 Augusta’s towers, and neighb’ring gleam. 
 Or verdant paths divide the elms of Shene, 
 
 Or forests clothe the winding-shore ; 
 
 What splendor then shall raise the vivid scene, 
 When you refinement’s gladness pour. 
 And virtue decks the throne, and virtue earns 
 the song! 
 
 Alf. Yet ere I go, attend, and be it known 
 That Shiflbrd is that destin’d spot from which 
 This salutary good must issue forth. 
 
 To charm the island with prosperity; 
 
 To Shiflbrd hasten, whomsoe’er his country 
 
[ 104 ] 
 
 Then may require; for now by freedom’s laws 
 Must the whole people send to that assembly 
 The objects of its choice, to speak its will, 
 
 And independently maintain its rights. 
 
 Our bishops shall be there, with learning’s light 
 To guide our councils; there our earls and 
 thanes. 
 
 Presenting in their fate the fates of many, 
 
 With power proportion'd to superior wealth, 
 Shall guard the laws of property; and there 
 Myself will o'er the different ranks preside. 
 Thus shall we form one perfect whole, assembling 
 In various orders, for the common welfare; 
 
 And met, we shall enact each needful law, 
 
 To equal what emergencies require. 
 
 At Athelney, to celebrate our labours 
 Supported there, construct we first a pile, 
 
 A sacred monastery, famous long, 
 
 With matin orisons, and vespers due, 
 
 In honour of the Lord of victory : 
 
 Hard by, a palace wide, in which we hope 
 To take delight, and triumph in reflection, 
 
 Wlio suffer’d there th’ united woes of war^ 
 
[ 105 ] , 
 
 We, and our family : for well I know 
 Y e hold them not alone of private moment 
 In a free state; but, as your family. 
 
 Mischance befalling them, befals you too. 
 
 But should you chance t’ inquire what fond me- 
 morial 
 
 Shall speak at Shifford our deliberate'councils, 
 And tell posterity our mighty work ; 
 
 Know, time is the sure witness of desert; 
 
 Posterity shall best avail to tell 
 
 Those benefits themselves alone shall see. 
 
 And then, perhaps, shall legibly be seen 
 Aloft, inscrib’d on monumental stone, — 
 
 “ Here, in this place, by Britons still rever’d, ' 
 “ Here did our toiling fathers first assemble 
 T’ establish that enduring government 
 “ Convulsions mav have mov’d, and discord 
 threat’ned ; 
 
 While yet successive ages taught repentance, 
 
 ‘‘ And party, wi^’-er grown, with self-command 
 “ Restrain’d her efforts, lifted by experience 
 “ Above the madd’ning zeal of vulgar mortals. 
 
 ^ ‘‘ Some golden age arise, prepar’d by science. 
 
[ 106 ] 
 
 “ When truth, unclouded, shall be seen by all, 
 ‘‘ And unanimity consist with freedom!” 
 
 Spread these good tidings, friends (which fame 
 may well 
 
 Blow o’er the earth) ; I bear them to your queen. 
 
 [jExxV. 
 
 Chorus^ Soldiers. ' 
 
 Chor, For ever honour’d be this day, which 
 gives us 
 
 Just liberty in a well order’d state. 
 
 Say, shall we not with courage now protect it? 
 All. We will preserve, or die in its defence.. 
 
 I'HE END^ 
 
NOTES. 
 
 THE BATTLE; kc. 
 
 This subject is mentioned in a particular mam 
 ner by Milton, in his List of Tragic Subjects, as 
 far as relates to the principal event. Most of the 
 facts pointedly alluded to, are equally founded 
 on history, it having been intended to exhibit as 
 clear a picture as possible of those dark times, 
 and above all, to collect together every circum- 
 stance in the life of Alfred anywise remarkable, 
 or interesting, as Racine endeavoured to do in 
 his Mithridate. The authors chiefly consulted 
 were the English historians, Leland’s History 
 of Ireland, Lord Littleton’s Henry II. Bicknell’s 
 Life of Alfred, the Saxon Chronicle, and Asser. 
 On the other hand, the plot, considered as to the 
 mere relation of its parts, is imaginary. 
 
 Mervtn,] There is nothing particular told of 
 this prince in the History of England, but that 
 -he, and his brother Cadelli were tributary to 
 
108 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Alfred before the battle, and Anarawd their bro- 
 ther afterwards. 
 
 Ethelre(L\ He was called “ Princeps militiae,” 
 and for his long services, and great merit, was 
 made Duke of Mercia by Alfred, to whose heroic 
 daughter Ethelfleda, (called the English Zenobia) 
 he was married. 
 
 Ceoluph,^ The name is so spelt in Tindal’s 
 Rapin ; in other histories, Ceolwulph. It was 
 attempted in his character to observe the Horatian 
 maxim of “ Famam sequere.” 
 
 Elsitha,^ The letter fwj is dropt in this name, 
 generally written Elswitha. Her beauty, accom- 
 plishments, and the mutual attachment subsist- 
 ing between her and Alfred during his distress, 
 as well as their early marriage, are recorded. 
 
 Chorus.^ The reader of English plays alone 
 will, since Mr. Mason^s admirable tragedies, 
 have learned the meaning and use of the Chorus. 
 
 o 
 
 I have adhered to his mode, though I had at one 
 time thoughts of putting 1 AltencL at the begin- 
 ning of the speeches of the Chorus, and 1st and 
 2 d Attend, at tlie beginning of those of the Semi- 
 
NOTES. 
 
 109 
 
 chorus, or Chorus, when the conversation is 
 among the characters who compose it. 
 
 The songs were placed at the conclusion of 
 the acts, from an idea conceived of letting the 
 music continue between them. 
 
 Free as his own thoughts, 8cc.] These were Al- 
 fred's words. 
 
 When Arthur JiWd the island throne,!^ This first 
 stanza is taken from a description in Geoffrey of 
 Monmouth, of one of Arthur's battles with the 
 Saxons, in which he alone, with his sword Cali- 
 burn, made a prodigious slaughter of the enemy. 
 
 Shifford,^ In Oxfordshire. Athelney is much 
 more known, where Alfred's situation has been 
 compared to that of Marius, when hiding in the 
 marshes. A Saxon record has descended to us, 
 unless it was destroyed by the lire at the Museum, 
 describing a meeting held at Shifford about this 
 time, exactly upon the principle of the British 
 constitution, and the government imagined by 
 Cicero and Tacitus. William the Conqueror 
 by no means founded the English government, 
 though Mons. de Lolme very properly remarks 
 
no 
 
 NOTES. - 
 
 the wholesome energy it providentially received 
 even from the violence of his institutions. It 
 was the work of a prince who never conquered 
 but to defend himself, who never extended his 
 dominions by conquest, but who extended them 
 considerably by the voluntary submission of 
 neighbouring monarchs, owing, most probably, 
 to his merit. It was this scholar and phi- 
 losopher who dispassionately formed his code 
 upon the theories of the ancients ; and who s’eems 
 to have thought the modern mode of cheapening 
 government, any further than to encourage in- 
 dustry, or answer the calls of national honour, 
 however it might convey ideas of frugality, would 
 in the end appear but bad ceconomy. 
 
 Arise some golden age^ prepared hy science There 
 seems no danger from real discoveries in science, 
 clearly made out, which amply compensate for 
 all bad consequences : the danger is from those 
 who only 
 
 Explain till all men doubt it, 
 
 And write about it, goddess, and about it.” 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Ill 
 
 The caution sober-minded people think neces- 
 sary in philosophy, reminds us of a similar prin- 
 ciple in politics, the caution with which the 
 friend of the constitution pronounces his opinion 
 of the unalienable rights of the people. He 
 knows that merely to allow their existence, is 
 sufficient for every purpose of reasoning and of 
 society, and rather avoids ungenerously putting 
 governors in mind of their dependence ; fully 
 contented that it should be, in the words of 
 Montesquieu, “ a republic hiding itself under 
 “ the form of monarchy.’’ 
 
 Unanimity consist with freedom^ The advanced 
 state of reason in England, where it is so diffi- 
 cult for incendiaries to drive the people to any 
 worse excesses than a little parliamentary spar- 
 ring, and the moderate opposition of a few dis- 
 contented meetings, is at this time particularly 
 remarkable. It is to be hoped we shall stand 
 firm during the present storm of innovation; and 
 when it has subsided, leaving us to the respect of 
 ourselves and others, we shall look round with 
 3Uiiles at the unclouded prospect of our old ro«^ 
 
112 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 mantle castles, in their accustomed beauty and 
 security. We might then at leisure make some 
 slight repairs, were we not obliged to think of 
 satisfying demands against us. The payment of 
 the national debt necessarily tending to the in- 
 crease of liberty, it may seem extraordinary that 
 we should not proceed in reducing it according to 
 plans from which there has not yet been time 
 enouo;h to receive material benefit, but should en- 
 deavour (not only by promoting a spirit in the 
 people favourable to such views, but by recom- 
 mending the measure itself) in one act foolishly 
 to ruin our own schemes, and unfaithfully to dis- 
 appoint the expectation of our creditors. To ef- 
 fect this, we are told of the absurdity of hereditary 
 honours, from the probability of their being some- 
 times possessed by weak men ; though it is the use 
 of talents of whatever sort, and not the possession 
 of superior ones, that really deserves notice and 
 regard. 
 
 T o regadate the formation of a government not 
 by the interests of the people, but by al:)stract no- 
 tions, is absurd, and therefore a democracy may 
 
NOTES. 
 
 113 
 
 in some countries not only have peculiar charms 
 for the learned, prepossessed in favour of ancient 
 republics, but be proper also for the illiterate 
 man. The condemnation of titles, which in the 
 course of time it has been expedient to create in 
 this country, is on the other hand so little to be 
 justified by the impossibility of merit’s descend* 
 ing c6nstantly with them from father to son, 
 that this is what much recommends them. In 
 the father, nobility is earned by personal cjualifi- 
 cations; in the son it remains to prove, and is 
 a perpetual memento, that the state considers ta- 
 lents or wealth as much secondary as artificial 
 eminence, and that the greatest possible praise is 
 that of adherence to its laws, and a conduct that 
 may be rendered as conspicuous and exemplary 
 by art, as it can by nature. It has indeed been 
 observed, tliat hereditary distinctions are formed 
 upon the repiJblican piinciple of levelling natm-al 
 and personal ones. I do not, however, contend 
 that other states may not provide ag^dnst tlie am- 
 bition of wealdi and genius witliout tlie use of 
 them; as there may be different forms of beauty; 
 
 H 
 
IH 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 ^ and it is only wliere titles are retained, that tliey 
 are eternal monuments of the sobriety of public 
 opinion, and its averseness to change. 
 
 Here it is difficult to think of our ailcient in- 
 stitutions, without at once desiring and dreading 
 to speak, after an eloquent writej , of one sort of 
 prejudice. I allude not to that prejudice which, 
 being contrary to reason, it is unwise to retain ; 
 but of that which, having no effect but to pro- 
 mote our happiness, it is as unwise to part with. 
 I speak of the gleanings of prejudice after the 
 harvest of reason. However, when it is over, 
 fancy too often “ wakes to imitate her,^’ and those 
 who then “ drive ahdd” to carry away what is 
 their due by established custom, uncertain who it 
 is at work, are induced to withdraw, leaving their 
 property in the hands of the remorseless plunderer. 
 These gleanings are the very support of life. But 
 supposing a veneration for systems connected 
 with our history and literature, and our various 
 monuments of antiquity and ingenuity super- 
 fluous, it is as little necessary to our happiness 
 that pamphleteers should enjoy the fame of Solon 
 
NOTES. 
 
 115 
 
 and Lyciirgus, by mstrueting tlie representatives 
 of this noble nation what to say in parliament, 
 or how to change the* government. 
 
 One who is in the habit of contemplating 
 works of fancy and genius, is naturally led to 
 notice a resemblance between the modern in- 
 novator, and the mannerist of every sort in the 
 arts, who seeks to rouze the attention, not by new 
 examples of acknowledged excellenccj which his 
 invention is unequal to the production oh but by 
 a continual novelty of manner, instead of the' 
 eternal beauty of nature. Lucan and Bernini 
 scorned the antique. Perhaps the poet most re- 
 markable for erring on the right side, by build- 
 ing upon old foundations, was he, of whom it is 
 said, 
 
 ‘ ‘ Nature and Homer were, he found, the same/’ 
 
 Impatience of old things, as insipid, is natural 
 to the human mind, though utterly subversive 
 both of good taste and salutary institutions; and- 
 
II6 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 the more natural, as tlie mind is weak, and the 
 passions are ill regulated. 
 
 Let sincere reformers recollect, and others con- 
 fess, that reformation is not a business, where li- 
 berty is directly concerned, so far as the excess of 
 representation, in some parts of the country, is 
 equal to the want of it in others. It will not be 
 adding to the power of the people, and taking it 
 from the crown, but only distributing that power 
 which the people already have; so that there will 
 iiot be the smallest democratic infusion into the 
 composition of government. If liberty be mea- 
 sured by the proportion of representatives to their 
 constituents, we may surely vie with France, 
 However, supposing that too much influence in 
 any case recommends some legal remedy, let us 
 console ourselves, till it takes place, with the re- 
 flection, that influence is not power, but free- 
 dom. 
 
 It seems strange, that many politicians of this 
 sort, are not able to giVe credit to all govern- 
 ments where man is treated as man. If there arc 
 
NOTES. 
 
 117 
 
 no ill effects of favouritism, if neither the power 
 of imprisoning arbitrarily, nor of directing the 
 decisions of justice, opens a field to oppression, 
 such a government enjoys the chief advantages of 
 a republic. The idea perpetually occurs, that 
 men are» equal, and made subordinate for their 
 own obvious and immediate advantage; that he 
 whose immoderate passions step more or less over 
 the bounds marked out by the laws, is alone the 
 king or the lord; and that envy, if implanted for 
 any purpose in the human breast, ought to single 
 out no other victim. 
 
 We may, upon the whole, be led to think, that 
 the countrymen of Bacon, Locke, Newton,^ and 
 Hume, need not be taught philosophy by foreign- 
 ers, whether French or English ones; and cautiously 
 continue that reserve which, though termed 
 pride by their enemies, seems to have been given 
 as arms to defend their liberty and constitution. 
 They have not a word in their language answer- 
 ing to the petite morale;' but, on the other hand, 
 jneither do they deceive ; and they are singular 
 
118 
 
 NOTES.- 
 
 only in a remarkable preference of essentials. 
 There is indeed a school of schismatics even in 
 tliis country; >vho, in spite of their friend Rous- 
 seau’s doctrine, cannot learn the superior subli- 
 mity of .passive virtue: but it is to be hoped our 
 kings and our people may still receive encou- 
 ragement, in proportion as they possess true 
 English qualities. 
 
i. ■ 
 
 
 ; ''‘'.’yY 
 
 'V.