ACT V.

SCENE I.—APARTMENT IN VORTIGERN’S PALACE.

Edmundaon a couch.FlaviaandPascentius.Soft Music.

Edm.Indeed, my gentle maid, indeed, thou’rt kind,And by those tears that glaze thy lovely eyes,’Twould seem, that truly, thou didst pity me.Fla.Pity thee, O, gods!Edm.Nay, wherefore, weep ye both;’Tis long, long since I was thus kindly treated:Your pardon, but I fear you scoff me.Pas.Doth she yet know you?Fla.Would to heaven, she did!Edm.And yet there was a maid that once did love me:Heigho! she went alack! I know not whither:Thou ne’er didst see her; else what I shall say,Methinks, would make thee vain; but yet, indeed,Thou seem’st right well to ape her pretty manners.Fla.O! ’tis too much; I cannot bear all this.Edm.Nay, nay; why shouldst thou wail and tremble so?Till this, I thought that grief was only mine;It is not fair to rob me of all comfort.I thought thee honest; but, indeed, the worldDoth flatter, fawn, and stroke upon the face,And sadly censure when the back is turn’d.Pas.O! dearest mother, say, dost thou not know me?Edm.Ay, ay, right well; thou’rt one by name, a man:Thy form is well enough, and thou may’st pass;But, hast thou a heart for melting pity?For better be a brute,Than lack it under that most godlike form:And yet I do thee wrong; for even now,Thou didst add graces to that manly cheek,With scalding tears: and for whom do you this?For one that neither asks, nor merits it.

Edm.Indeed, my gentle maid, indeed, thou’rt kind,And by those tears that glaze thy lovely eyes,’Twould seem, that truly, thou didst pity me.

Edm.Indeed, my gentle maid, indeed, thou’rt kind,

And by those tears that glaze thy lovely eyes,

’Twould seem, that truly, thou didst pity me.

Fla.Pity thee, O, gods!

Edm.Nay, wherefore, weep ye both;’Tis long, long since I was thus kindly treated:Your pardon, but I fear you scoff me.

Edm.Nay, wherefore, weep ye both;

’Tis long, long since I was thus kindly treated:

Your pardon, but I fear you scoff me.

Pas.Doth she yet know you?

Fla.Would to heaven, she did!

Edm.And yet there was a maid that once did love me:Heigho! she went alack! I know not whither:Thou ne’er didst see her; else what I shall say,Methinks, would make thee vain; but yet, indeed,Thou seem’st right well to ape her pretty manners.

Edm.And yet there was a maid that once did love me:

Heigho! she went alack! I know not whither:

Thou ne’er didst see her; else what I shall say,

Methinks, would make thee vain; but yet, indeed,

Thou seem’st right well to ape her pretty manners.

Fla.O! ’tis too much; I cannot bear all this.

Edm.Nay, nay; why shouldst thou wail and tremble so?Till this, I thought that grief was only mine;It is not fair to rob me of all comfort.I thought thee honest; but, indeed, the worldDoth flatter, fawn, and stroke upon the face,And sadly censure when the back is turn’d.

Edm.Nay, nay; why shouldst thou wail and tremble so?

Till this, I thought that grief was only mine;

It is not fair to rob me of all comfort.

I thought thee honest; but, indeed, the world

Doth flatter, fawn, and stroke upon the face,

And sadly censure when the back is turn’d.

Pas.O! dearest mother, say, dost thou not know me?

Edm.Ay, ay, right well; thou’rt one by name, a man:Thy form is well enough, and thou may’st pass;But, hast thou a heart for melting pity?For better be a brute,Than lack it under that most godlike form:And yet I do thee wrong; for even now,Thou didst add graces to that manly cheek,With scalding tears: and for whom do you this?For one that neither asks, nor merits it.

Edm.Ay, ay, right well; thou’rt one by name, a man:

Thy form is well enough, and thou may’st pass;

But, hast thou a heart for melting pity?

For better be a brute,

Than lack it under that most godlike form:

And yet I do thee wrong; for even now,

Thou didst add graces to that manly cheek,

With scalding tears: and for whom do you this?

For one that neither asks, nor merits it.

EnterWortimerusandCatagrinus.

Wort.How doth she now?Pas.Alas! she wanders yet: her mind’s diseas’d.Fla.I am that maiden lost, your loving daughter.Edm.Bring here my glasses, stand before me here!Now, now, I’ll judge thee well; I’ll see this straight:And first her look was mild—in this thou’lt do;Then she was kind, most excellent, and good;Well, and so seemest thou. Now for the last:O! her heart was—but thine I cannot see;There thou deceivest me: I know thee not.Yet, if thou be my daughter,On thy forehead is a mark—Away, then, with those locks from off thy front—Now, let me look! O, gods! ’tis she, tis she!Pas.She faints, she faints! this shock is too afflictingFor such a shatter’d and disabled frame.Fla.O! dearest, kindest, most beloved mother!Edm.Indeed, my brain is something cooler now:I should know you, sir, and you too; nay, all!I’m very faint—alas! this joy o’ercomes me!Fla.Sweet mother, you need rest; we’ll lead you in.Edm.Then be it so; and wilt thou sit and watch me?Fla.Ay; and I’ll kneel and pray, and sometimes weep.Edm.Lead, then; I’ll in to rest: come, follow me.

Wort.How doth she now?

Pas.Alas! she wanders yet: her mind’s diseas’d.

Fla.I am that maiden lost, your loving daughter.

Edm.Bring here my glasses, stand before me here!Now, now, I’ll judge thee well; I’ll see this straight:And first her look was mild—in this thou’lt do;Then she was kind, most excellent, and good;Well, and so seemest thou. Now for the last:O! her heart was—but thine I cannot see;There thou deceivest me: I know thee not.Yet, if thou be my daughter,On thy forehead is a mark—Away, then, with those locks from off thy front—Now, let me look! O, gods! ’tis she, tis she!

Edm.Bring here my glasses, stand before me here!

Now, now, I’ll judge thee well; I’ll see this straight:

And first her look was mild—in this thou’lt do;

Then she was kind, most excellent, and good;

Well, and so seemest thou. Now for the last:

O! her heart was—but thine I cannot see;

There thou deceivest me: I know thee not.

Yet, if thou be my daughter,

On thy forehead is a mark—

Away, then, with those locks from off thy front—

Now, let me look! O, gods! ’tis she, tis she!

Pas.She faints, she faints! this shock is too afflictingFor such a shatter’d and disabled frame.

Pas.She faints, she faints! this shock is too afflicting

For such a shatter’d and disabled frame.

Fla.O! dearest, kindest, most beloved mother!

Edm.Indeed, my brain is something cooler now:I should know you, sir, and you too; nay, all!I’m very faint—alas! this joy o’ercomes me!

Edm.Indeed, my brain is something cooler now:

I should know you, sir, and you too; nay, all!

I’m very faint—alas! this joy o’ercomes me!

Fla.Sweet mother, you need rest; we’ll lead you in.

Edm.Then be it so; and wilt thou sit and watch me?

Fla.Ay; and I’ll kneel and pray, and sometimes weep.

Edm.Lead, then; I’ll in to rest: come, follow me.

[Exeunt.

EnterAureliusandUter.

Aur.The breach is made; the southern gate is forc’d;Yet still doth he hold out; and hath ta’en flight,E’en to the Tower, and there he’ll wait the siege.Uter.Aurelius, your fair prisoner, is no more.Aur.How, say’st thou?Uter.Rowena swallow’d poison, and is dead.Aur.Then hath a wicked spirit ta’en its flightFrom the most lovely frame that e’er was form’d,To charm or to deceive.

Aur.The breach is made; the southern gate is forc’d;Yet still doth he hold out; and hath ta’en flight,E’en to the Tower, and there he’ll wait the siege.

Aur.The breach is made; the southern gate is forc’d;

Yet still doth he hold out; and hath ta’en flight,

E’en to the Tower, and there he’ll wait the siege.

Uter.Aurelius, your fair prisoner, is no more.

Aur.How, say’st thou?

Uter.Rowena swallow’d poison, and is dead.

Aur.Then hath a wicked spirit ta’en its flightFrom the most lovely frame that e’er was form’d,To charm or to deceive.

Aur.Then hath a wicked spirit ta’en its flight

From the most lovely frame that e’er was form’d,

To charm or to deceive.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.—CÆSAR’S TOWER.

Enter 1st Baron and Officer.

Bar.Is the King yet safe?Off.He is, my lord.Bar.Are many troops with us?Off.Two thousand, full well arm’d; and braver menNe’er buckled on their limbs the glitt’ring steel.O! what a sight it was to see the King!No sooner had he reach’d the bridge, but firm,And with a voice that rung each coward heart,He hail’d them to come on. Here, then, he stood:In his right hand griping his massy axe,Whilst with the left he held the brazen chain;Nor did he budge, until each hardy soldierSafely within the walls had enter’d:Then, waving thrice his cased hand in air,And, with a nod that spread pale fear around,And seem’d to animate his bloody plume,Triumphantly, he bade them all defiance;Then, slowly turning, with a horrid frown,Soldiers! he cried, soldiers! break down the draw-bridge.Like hail, in flight, we pour’d on them our arrows,Until their blood had stain’d the moat around us—But look, my lord, here comes the King.

Bar.Is the King yet safe?

Off.He is, my lord.

Bar.Are many troops with us?

Off.Two thousand, full well arm’d; and braver menNe’er buckled on their limbs the glitt’ring steel.O! what a sight it was to see the King!No sooner had he reach’d the bridge, but firm,And with a voice that rung each coward heart,He hail’d them to come on. Here, then, he stood:In his right hand griping his massy axe,Whilst with the left he held the brazen chain;Nor did he budge, until each hardy soldierSafely within the walls had enter’d:Then, waving thrice his cased hand in air,And, with a nod that spread pale fear around,And seem’d to animate his bloody plume,Triumphantly, he bade them all defiance;Then, slowly turning, with a horrid frown,Soldiers! he cried, soldiers! break down the draw-bridge.Like hail, in flight, we pour’d on them our arrows,Until their blood had stain’d the moat around us—But look, my lord, here comes the King.

Off.Two thousand, full well arm’d; and braver men

Ne’er buckled on their limbs the glitt’ring steel.

O! what a sight it was to see the King!

No sooner had he reach’d the bridge, but firm,

And with a voice that rung each coward heart,

He hail’d them to come on. Here, then, he stood:

In his right hand griping his massy axe,

Whilst with the left he held the brazen chain;

Nor did he budge, until each hardy soldier

Safely within the walls had enter’d:

Then, waving thrice his cased hand in air,

And, with a nod that spread pale fear around,

And seem’d to animate his bloody plume,

Triumphantly, he bade them all defiance;

Then, slowly turning, with a horrid frown,

Soldiers! he cried, soldiers! break down the draw-bridge.

Like hail, in flight, we pour’d on them our arrows,

Until their blood had stain’d the moat around us—

But look, my lord, here comes the King.

EnterVortigern.

Vor.Why stand ye here, like fools, catching the air?What! think ye this to be your mistress’ chamber?Bar.My gracious prince, we wait your orders here.Vor.Then fight, I say.Go, get you hence.Bar.I’m all obedience.Vor.No, no; thou must stay here: thou’rt my sole prop.I sicken fast, and ’gin again to flag.Pour forth, I pray thee now, some flatt’ring words,For I am weary, and my lamp of lifeDoth sadly linger, and would fain go out;For, look you, my poor soul is sore diseas’d.Bar.Courage, my noble sir.Vor.Time was, alas! I needed not this spur.But here’s a secret and a stinging thorn,That wounds my troubl’d nerves. O! conscience! conscience!When thou didst cry, I strove to stop thy mouth,By boldly thrusting on thee dire ambition:Then did I think myself, indeed, a god!But I was sore deceiv’d; for as I pass’d,And travers’d in proud triumph the Basse-court,There I saw death, clad in most hideous colours:A sight it was, that did appal my soul;Yea, curdled thick this mass of blood within me.Full fifty breathless bodies struck my sight;And some, with gaping mouths, did seem to mock me;While others, smiling in cold death itself,Scoffingly bade me look on that, which soonWould wrench from off my brow this sacred crown,And make me, too, a subject like themselves:Subject! to whom? To thee, O! sovereign death!That hast for thy domain this world immense:Church-yards and charnel-houses are thy haunts,And hospitals thy sumptuous palaces;And, when thou wouldst be merry, thou dost chooseThe gaudy chamber of a dying King.O! then thou dost ope wide thy boney jaws,And, with rude laughter and fantastic tricks,Thou clapp’st thy rattling fingers to thy sides:And when this solemn mockery is o’er,With icy hand thou tak’st him by the feet,And upward so, till thou dost reach the heart,And wrap him in the cloak of lasting night.[1]Bar.Let not, my lord, your thoughts sink you thus low;But, be advis’d; for, should your gallant troopsBehold you thus, they might fall sick with fear.

Vor.Why stand ye here, like fools, catching the air?What! think ye this to be your mistress’ chamber?

Vor.Why stand ye here, like fools, catching the air?

What! think ye this to be your mistress’ chamber?

Bar.My gracious prince, we wait your orders here.

Vor.Then fight, I say.Go, get you hence.

Vor.Then fight, I say.

Go, get you hence.

Bar.I’m all obedience.

Vor.No, no; thou must stay here: thou’rt my sole prop.I sicken fast, and ’gin again to flag.Pour forth, I pray thee now, some flatt’ring words,For I am weary, and my lamp of lifeDoth sadly linger, and would fain go out;For, look you, my poor soul is sore diseas’d.

Vor.No, no; thou must stay here: thou’rt my sole prop.

I sicken fast, and ’gin again to flag.

Pour forth, I pray thee now, some flatt’ring words,

For I am weary, and my lamp of life

Doth sadly linger, and would fain go out;

For, look you, my poor soul is sore diseas’d.

Bar.Courage, my noble sir.

Vor.Time was, alas! I needed not this spur.But here’s a secret and a stinging thorn,That wounds my troubl’d nerves. O! conscience! conscience!When thou didst cry, I strove to stop thy mouth,By boldly thrusting on thee dire ambition:Then did I think myself, indeed, a god!But I was sore deceiv’d; for as I pass’d,And travers’d in proud triumph the Basse-court,There I saw death, clad in most hideous colours:A sight it was, that did appal my soul;Yea, curdled thick this mass of blood within me.Full fifty breathless bodies struck my sight;And some, with gaping mouths, did seem to mock me;While others, smiling in cold death itself,Scoffingly bade me look on that, which soonWould wrench from off my brow this sacred crown,And make me, too, a subject like themselves:Subject! to whom? To thee, O! sovereign death!That hast for thy domain this world immense:Church-yards and charnel-houses are thy haunts,And hospitals thy sumptuous palaces;And, when thou wouldst be merry, thou dost chooseThe gaudy chamber of a dying King.O! then thou dost ope wide thy boney jaws,And, with rude laughter and fantastic tricks,Thou clapp’st thy rattling fingers to thy sides:And when this solemn mockery is o’er,With icy hand thou tak’st him by the feet,And upward so, till thou dost reach the heart,And wrap him in the cloak of lasting night.[1]

Vor.Time was, alas! I needed not this spur.

But here’s a secret and a stinging thorn,

That wounds my troubl’d nerves. O! conscience! conscience!

When thou didst cry, I strove to stop thy mouth,

By boldly thrusting on thee dire ambition:

Then did I think myself, indeed, a god!

But I was sore deceiv’d; for as I pass’d,

And travers’d in proud triumph the Basse-court,

There I saw death, clad in most hideous colours:

A sight it was, that did appal my soul;

Yea, curdled thick this mass of blood within me.

Full fifty breathless bodies struck my sight;

And some, with gaping mouths, did seem to mock me;

While others, smiling in cold death itself,

Scoffingly bade me look on that, which soon

Would wrench from off my brow this sacred crown,

And make me, too, a subject like themselves:

Subject! to whom? To thee, O! sovereign death!

That hast for thy domain this world immense:

Church-yards and charnel-houses are thy haunts,

And hospitals thy sumptuous palaces;

And, when thou wouldst be merry, thou dost choose

The gaudy chamber of a dying King.

O! then thou dost ope wide thy boney jaws,

And, with rude laughter and fantastic tricks,

Thou clapp’st thy rattling fingers to thy sides:

And when this solemn mockery is o’er,

With icy hand thou tak’st him by the feet,

And upward so, till thou dost reach the heart,

And wrap him in the cloak of lasting night.[1]

Bar.Let not, my lord, your thoughts sink you thus low;But, be advis’d; for, should your gallant troopsBehold you thus, they might fall sick with fear.

Bar.Let not, my lord, your thoughts sink you thus low;

But, be advis’d; for, should your gallant troops

Behold you thus, they might fall sick with fear.

Enter an Officer.

Off.My lord! my lord!Vor.Wherefore dost tremble thus, paper-fac’d knave?What news should make thee break thus rudely in?Off.Indeed, indeed, I fear to tell you, sir.Vor.Speak, vassal, speak! my soul defies thy tongue.Off.Your newly married Queen—Vor.Speak, what of her?Off.My lord, she hath ta’en poison, and is dead.Vor.Nay, shrink not from me now; be not afraid:There lie, my sword! and with it all my hopes.Lord.Yet we may hope—Vor.O! friend, let not thy tongue delude with hope:Too long against th’ Almighty have I fought.Hope now is vain—I will hear none on’t.Off.Yet is the breach not made, and we are strong;Still we may out, my lord, and beat them off.Vor.Can wicked souls e’er stand before the just;Can strength outweigh the mighty hand of God?No, no; never, never! O! repentance,Why dost thou linger thus to ask admittance?Thou com’st, alas! too late; thou’rt stale and nauseous.Where, where is now the good, old murder’d king?In fields of bliss, where guilty souls ne’er come.

Off.My lord! my lord!

Vor.Wherefore dost tremble thus, paper-fac’d knave?What news should make thee break thus rudely in?

Vor.Wherefore dost tremble thus, paper-fac’d knave?

What news should make thee break thus rudely in?

Off.Indeed, indeed, I fear to tell you, sir.

Vor.Speak, vassal, speak! my soul defies thy tongue.

Off.Your newly married Queen—

Vor.Speak, what of her?

Off.My lord, she hath ta’en poison, and is dead.

Vor.Nay, shrink not from me now; be not afraid:There lie, my sword! and with it all my hopes.

Vor.Nay, shrink not from me now; be not afraid:

There lie, my sword! and with it all my hopes.

Lord.Yet we may hope—

Vor.O! friend, let not thy tongue delude with hope:Too long against th’ Almighty have I fought.Hope now is vain—I will hear none on’t.

Vor.O! friend, let not thy tongue delude with hope:

Too long against th’ Almighty have I fought.

Hope now is vain—I will hear none on’t.

Off.Yet is the breach not made, and we are strong;Still we may out, my lord, and beat them off.

Off.Yet is the breach not made, and we are strong;

Still we may out, my lord, and beat them off.

Vor.Can wicked souls e’er stand before the just;Can strength outweigh the mighty hand of God?No, no; never, never! O! repentance,Why dost thou linger thus to ask admittance?Thou com’st, alas! too late; thou’rt stale and nauseous.Where, where is now the good, old murder’d king?In fields of bliss, where guilty souls ne’er come.

Vor.Can wicked souls e’er stand before the just;

Can strength outweigh the mighty hand of God?

No, no; never, never! O! repentance,

Why dost thou linger thus to ask admittance?

Thou com’st, alas! too late; thou’rt stale and nauseous.

Where, where is now the good, old murder’d king?

In fields of bliss, where guilty souls ne’er come.

Enter another Officer.

2nd Off.All, all is lost; the post is ta’en by storm:The breach is made; they pour in fast upon us.Vor.If it be so, then will I out and die:Now aid, ye gods! but if ye will not hear,E’en, then, on hell I call again for succour!My friends have boldly stemm’d this tide of war;And shall I flinch at last, and play the woman?Let any but Aurelius meet my arm,And this my sword shall ope a gate so wide,That the imprison’d soul shall take its flight,And either seek the murder’d king above,Or down and join me in the pit below.

2nd Off.All, all is lost; the post is ta’en by storm:The breach is made; they pour in fast upon us.

2nd Off.All, all is lost; the post is ta’en by storm:

The breach is made; they pour in fast upon us.

Vor.If it be so, then will I out and die:Now aid, ye gods! but if ye will not hear,E’en, then, on hell I call again for succour!My friends have boldly stemm’d this tide of war;And shall I flinch at last, and play the woman?Let any but Aurelius meet my arm,And this my sword shall ope a gate so wide,That the imprison’d soul shall take its flight,And either seek the murder’d king above,Or down and join me in the pit below.

Vor.If it be so, then will I out and die:

Now aid, ye gods! but if ye will not hear,

E’en, then, on hell I call again for succour!

My friends have boldly stemm’d this tide of war;

And shall I flinch at last, and play the woman?

Let any but Aurelius meet my arm,

And this my sword shall ope a gate so wide,

That the imprison’d soul shall take its flight,

And either seek the murder’d king above,

Or down and join me in the pit below.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—THE BASSE-COURT OF THE TOWER.

EnterAureliusandUter.

Uter.Where, brother, are the sons of Vortigern?Aur.I bade them with their gentle mother stay;For much ’twould have offended righteous heaven,If, ’gainst their father, they had join’d with us.For here there always is a sacred tie,Which suffers not a son’s uplifted handTo strike a father, be he e’er so vile.Did he not give him birth, and nourish him?And when thy direst foe becomes thy slave,Say, shouldst thou use revenge? No, rather shame himWith pity and all-softening charity,Then on a golden bed thou lay’st thy soul,And art on earth a blessed angel.Uter.Brother, I do commend thee for this deed;Worthy a prince, worthy a Briton, too.But, come! now for the tyrant Vortigern!

Uter.Where, brother, are the sons of Vortigern?

Aur.I bade them with their gentle mother stay;For much ’twould have offended righteous heaven,If, ’gainst their father, they had join’d with us.For here there always is a sacred tie,Which suffers not a son’s uplifted handTo strike a father, be he e’er so vile.Did he not give him birth, and nourish him?And when thy direst foe becomes thy slave,Say, shouldst thou use revenge? No, rather shame himWith pity and all-softening charity,Then on a golden bed thou lay’st thy soul,And art on earth a blessed angel.

Aur.I bade them with their gentle mother stay;

For much ’twould have offended righteous heaven,

If, ’gainst their father, they had join’d with us.

For here there always is a sacred tie,

Which suffers not a son’s uplifted hand

To strike a father, be he e’er so vile.

Did he not give him birth, and nourish him?

And when thy direst foe becomes thy slave,

Say, shouldst thou use revenge? No, rather shame him

With pity and all-softening charity,

Then on a golden bed thou lay’st thy soul,

And art on earth a blessed angel.

Uter.Brother, I do commend thee for this deed;Worthy a prince, worthy a Briton, too.But, come! now for the tyrant Vortigern!

Uter.Brother, I do commend thee for this deed;

Worthy a prince, worthy a Briton, too.

But, come! now for the tyrant Vortigern!

Enter Officer.

Aur.What’s the news?Off.Th’ ill-fated King doth flee tow’rds Cæsar’s tow’r,While half his troops have fall’n into our hands.Aur.Did ye obey mine orders?Off.Ay, my good lord, in ev’ry circumstance.Aur.Then Uter, look; you march towards that same tow’r.Let me, ye gods! but meet with this vile traitor:And should his soul not shrink beneath my sword,Heav’n has no justice.

Aur.What’s the news?

Off.Th’ ill-fated King doth flee tow’rds Cæsar’s tow’r,While half his troops have fall’n into our hands.

Off.Th’ ill-fated King doth flee tow’rds Cæsar’s tow’r,

While half his troops have fall’n into our hands.

Aur.Did ye obey mine orders?

Off.Ay, my good lord, in ev’ry circumstance.

Aur.Then Uter, look; you march towards that same tow’r.Let me, ye gods! but meet with this vile traitor:And should his soul not shrink beneath my sword,Heav’n has no justice.

Aur.Then Uter, look; you march towards that same tow’r.

Let me, ye gods! but meet with this vile traitor:

And should his soul not shrink beneath my sword,

Heav’n has no justice.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.—THE GATE OF CÆSAR’S TOWER.

Enter Lord and Troops.

Lord.In, in! for they do scar our very backs;And score us cowards in our hasty flight.

Lord.In, in! for they do scar our very backs;

And score us cowards in our hasty flight.

EnterVortigern.

Vor.Give me another sword! I have so clogg’d,And badged this with blood and slipp’ry gore,That it doth mock my gripe. A sword, I say!Lord.Here, here, my noble lord!Vor.As with their bloods I stain’d my reeking blade,From summit of the tow’r, the raven croak’d;Th’ heavy-wing’d crow did chatter o’er my head,And seem’d to bear black laurels for this brow:Yet, did not, erst, the sun-defying eagleO’er the world-conquering Macedonian hero,Flutter, and point his way to victory?Then from thy jarring throat spit pestilence;And, bird of hell, I’ll take thee for my guide.Lord.The troops are enter’d; please you follow them?Vor.I love not to be shut in walls of flint:My soul likes better this vast field of air.Let them come on.Lord.Consider, my dear lord; think of your safety.Vor.Must we not die? then, wherefore in a door,And rot with famine, and with pale-fac’d hunger?No; ’twere better nobly fall, full-stomach’d,Than linger out a six weeks’ tedious siege.Do as ye list, here firmly will I stand.Lord.Is it your pleasure, then, they shall proceed?Vor.Ay; e’en to it straight.Nay, stop! why should all these be doom’d to death?Mine is the crime, not theirs.

Vor.Give me another sword! I have so clogg’d,And badged this with blood and slipp’ry gore,That it doth mock my gripe. A sword, I say!

Vor.Give me another sword! I have so clogg’d,

And badged this with blood and slipp’ry gore,

That it doth mock my gripe. A sword, I say!

Lord.Here, here, my noble lord!

Vor.As with their bloods I stain’d my reeking blade,From summit of the tow’r, the raven croak’d;Th’ heavy-wing’d crow did chatter o’er my head,And seem’d to bear black laurels for this brow:Yet, did not, erst, the sun-defying eagleO’er the world-conquering Macedonian hero,Flutter, and point his way to victory?Then from thy jarring throat spit pestilence;And, bird of hell, I’ll take thee for my guide.

Vor.As with their bloods I stain’d my reeking blade,

From summit of the tow’r, the raven croak’d;

Th’ heavy-wing’d crow did chatter o’er my head,

And seem’d to bear black laurels for this brow:

Yet, did not, erst, the sun-defying eagle

O’er the world-conquering Macedonian hero,

Flutter, and point his way to victory?

Then from thy jarring throat spit pestilence;

And, bird of hell, I’ll take thee for my guide.

Lord.The troops are enter’d; please you follow them?

Vor.I love not to be shut in walls of flint:My soul likes better this vast field of air.Let them come on.

Vor.I love not to be shut in walls of flint:

My soul likes better this vast field of air.

Let them come on.

Lord.Consider, my dear lord; think of your safety.

Vor.Must we not die? then, wherefore in a door,And rot with famine, and with pale-fac’d hunger?No; ’twere better nobly fall, full-stomach’d,Than linger out a six weeks’ tedious siege.Do as ye list, here firmly will I stand.

Vor.Must we not die? then, wherefore in a door,

And rot with famine, and with pale-fac’d hunger?

No; ’twere better nobly fall, full-stomach’d,

Than linger out a six weeks’ tedious siege.

Do as ye list, here firmly will I stand.

Lord.Is it your pleasure, then, they shall proceed?

Vor.Ay; e’en to it straight.Nay, stop! why should all these be doom’d to death?Mine is the crime, not theirs.

Vor.Ay; e’en to it straight.

Nay, stop! why should all these be doom’d to death?

Mine is the crime, not theirs.

EnterAurelius.

Aur.Villain and traitor! at thy word I take thee.Vor.Ah! thy face the semblance of thy father’s bears.Thine eyes do pierce, more than thy steel-clad arm.Were fifty souls within that body cas’d,Proudly I’d scorn them all: but, ah! thy looks—Aur.Thou perjur’d wretch! thou most abhorred villain!Vor.Prate on, prate on: ’tis true, I merit this.But go not yet too far, lest, stripling boy,You should, to indignation, fire my blood,Which thou hast turn’d from out its wonted course,And make it fall on thee.Aur.Alike, I do defy thy rage and threat.Where is my father?Vor.Curse upon thee, thou grat’st my soul!O! if around this tatter’d conscience, e’erDid cling repentance, I now cast it off.

Aur.Villain and traitor! at thy word I take thee.

Vor.Ah! thy face the semblance of thy father’s bears.Thine eyes do pierce, more than thy steel-clad arm.Were fifty souls within that body cas’d,Proudly I’d scorn them all: but, ah! thy looks—

Vor.Ah! thy face the semblance of thy father’s bears.

Thine eyes do pierce, more than thy steel-clad arm.

Were fifty souls within that body cas’d,

Proudly I’d scorn them all: but, ah! thy looks—

Aur.Thou perjur’d wretch! thou most abhorred villain!

Vor.Prate on, prate on: ’tis true, I merit this.But go not yet too far, lest, stripling boy,You should, to indignation, fire my blood,Which thou hast turn’d from out its wonted course,And make it fall on thee.

Vor.Prate on, prate on: ’tis true, I merit this.

But go not yet too far, lest, stripling boy,

You should, to indignation, fire my blood,

Which thou hast turn’d from out its wonted course,

And make it fall on thee.

Aur.Alike, I do defy thy rage and threat.Where is my father?

Aur.Alike, I do defy thy rage and threat.

Where is my father?

Vor.Curse upon thee, thou grat’st my soul!O! if around this tatter’d conscience, e’erDid cling repentance, I now cast it off.

Vor.Curse upon thee, thou grat’st my soul!

O! if around this tatter’d conscience, e’er

Did cling repentance, I now cast it off.

[They fight and pause.

Nay, stand aloof, and hear me yet awhile.Aur.I will not.Vor.’Twere better that thou didst, lest, waxing warm,I rise, and pour upon thy unform’d limbsThat rage, which ’gins to swell within my veins,And lay a double murder on my soul.Aur.Come on; come on, I say!

Nay, stand aloof, and hear me yet awhile.

Aur.I will not.

Vor.’Twere better that thou didst, lest, waxing warm,I rise, and pour upon thy unform’d limbsThat rage, which ’gins to swell within my veins,And lay a double murder on my soul.

Vor.’Twere better that thou didst, lest, waxing warm,

I rise, and pour upon thy unform’d limbs

That rage, which ’gins to swell within my veins,

And lay a double murder on my soul.

Aur.Come on; come on, I say!

[They fight; Vortigern is thrown to the ground.

Now, tyrant! now, I have thee in my power.Vor.Dost think I’ll blanch my face, and be a coward?A lily coward? No! strike, then!Ne’er will I crave thy mercy.Aur.Now, traitor! where’s my father?Vor.Murdered!Aur.And by whom?Vor.Is not the crown thine own?Aur.Ay; and is mine by right: then, speak, I say!Vor.I will not, boy: hadst thou ten thousand voices,And lungs of brass to give them utterance,I’d not answer aught.Aur.Then die!

Now, tyrant! now, I have thee in my power.

Vor.Dost think I’ll blanch my face, and be a coward?A lily coward? No! strike, then!Ne’er will I crave thy mercy.

Vor.Dost think I’ll blanch my face, and be a coward?

A lily coward? No! strike, then!

Ne’er will I crave thy mercy.

Aur.Now, traitor! where’s my father?

Vor.Murdered!

Aur.And by whom?

Vor.Is not the crown thine own?

Aur.Ay; and is mine by right: then, speak, I say!

Vor.I will not, boy: hadst thou ten thousand voices,And lungs of brass to give them utterance,I’d not answer aught.

Vor.I will not, boy: hadst thou ten thousand voices,

And lungs of brass to give them utterance,

I’d not answer aught.

Aur.Then die!

Flaviarushes forward.

Fla.O! stop, Aurelius!—stay thy hand!Remember, he is still my father!Vor.My daughter, here! then curse the tardy blow,That lingers thus performing of its office.Strike, strike, I now beseech thee; for I’m sick,And do abhor the very light of heaven.Fla.O, mercy! on my knees I sue for mercy.Vor.’Twas I, ’twas I! this hand thy father murder’d.Aur.And say’st thou this, e’en to my very face?Vor.Ay, to thy face, and in thy ears I’ll ring it,Till thou for mercy’s sake shalt strike the blow.

Fla.O! stop, Aurelius!—stay thy hand!Remember, he is still my father!

Fla.O! stop, Aurelius!—stay thy hand!

Remember, he is still my father!

Vor.My daughter, here! then curse the tardy blow,That lingers thus performing of its office.Strike, strike, I now beseech thee; for I’m sick,And do abhor the very light of heaven.

Vor.My daughter, here! then curse the tardy blow,

That lingers thus performing of its office.

Strike, strike, I now beseech thee; for I’m sick,

And do abhor the very light of heaven.

Fla.O, mercy! on my knees I sue for mercy.

Vor.’Twas I, ’twas I! this hand thy father murder’d.

Aur.And say’st thou this, e’en to my very face?

Vor.Ay, to thy face, and in thy ears I’ll ring it,Till thou for mercy’s sake shalt strike the blow.

Vor.Ay, to thy face, and in thy ears I’ll ring it,

Till thou for mercy’s sake shalt strike the blow.

EnterWortimerus,Catagrinus,Soldiers, Lords, &c.

Wort.What! my father?Aur.My Flavia, for thy sake, I grant him life.Vor.In charity, then, I pray ye bear me hence!Aur.Ay, lead him toward the Friars.Vor.Yea, where ye list; but, take me from this sight.

Wort.What! my father?

Aur.My Flavia, for thy sake, I grant him life.

Vor.In charity, then, I pray ye bear me hence!

Aur.Ay, lead him toward the Friars.

Vor.Yea, where ye list; but, take me from this sight.

[Vor. is led out.

Aur.How speeds Edmunda?Wort.Her mind far better fares, yet is she feeble.Aur.And of your father doth she e’er say aught?Wort.Yea, truly; but she haply thinks him dead.

Aur.How speeds Edmunda?

Wort.Her mind far better fares, yet is she feeble.

Aur.And of your father doth she e’er say aught?

Wort.Yea, truly; but she haply thinks him dead.

EnterUter.

Uter.Of all, the King hath truly made confession.To you he justly renders up the crown,And bade me hail you Albion’s rightful King.

Uter.Of all, the King hath truly made confession.

To you he justly renders up the crown,

And bade me hail you Albion’s rightful King.

(All Kneel.)

All.Hail to Aurelius,Lawful King of Britain.

All.Hail to Aurelius,

Lawful King of Britain.

Pascentiusenters.

Pas. to Aur.Vortigern on thee bestows our sister,And bade me, in his name, present her hand:—Aur.Which thus I kiss; and, with the self-same breath,Do hail her wife, and Britain’s lovely Queen.All.All hail to Flavia, Queen of Britain.Aur.Much, we confess, we owe to all here present;Each distinct service we shall well repay,As best our dignity and state befit.To-morrow, Lords, we’ll meet at Westminster;For your ripe ages and experience,Must teach our young and giddy years the way,To sow content after these dismal times.

Pas. to Aur.Vortigern on thee bestows our sister,And bade me, in his name, present her hand:—

Pas. to Aur.Vortigern on thee bestows our sister,

And bade me, in his name, present her hand:—

Aur.Which thus I kiss; and, with the self-same breath,Do hail her wife, and Britain’s lovely Queen.

Aur.Which thus I kiss; and, with the self-same breath,

Do hail her wife, and Britain’s lovely Queen.

All.All hail to Flavia, Queen of Britain.

Aur.Much, we confess, we owe to all here present;Each distinct service we shall well repay,As best our dignity and state befit.To-morrow, Lords, we’ll meet at Westminster;For your ripe ages and experience,Must teach our young and giddy years the way,To sow content after these dismal times.

Aur.Much, we confess, we owe to all here present;

Each distinct service we shall well repay,

As best our dignity and state befit.

To-morrow, Lords, we’ll meet at Westminster;

For your ripe ages and experience,

Must teach our young and giddy years the way,

To sow content after these dismal times.

[Curtain drops.

“Foolcomes forward.”

“Methinks, but now I heard some gentles say,—Where’s master Fool? I’troth, he’s run away.Right! for look you, when there’s danger near,He, then, most courage hath, who most doth fear;Besides, observe, I came not here to fight,Let him that dares, say nay, I’m in the right:I will not out and risk a knocking down,For though I like our king, I like my crown:Besides, there is a time for Fools to play;But, then, they must have nought, save good to say.Chance, you will ask if this be tragedy;We kill, indeed, but still ’tis comedy:For none save bad do fall, which draws no tear,Nor lets compassion sway your tender ear:Play! grant it, then—the story ye have read,For ’tis well chronicled in Hollinshed.Now give your plaudits, and when that be done,Your Fool shall bow, and thank ye ev’ry one,”

“Methinks, but now I heard some gentles say,—

Where’s master Fool? I’troth, he’s run away.

Right! for look you, when there’s danger near,

He, then, most courage hath, who most doth fear;

Besides, observe, I came not here to fight,

Let him that dares, say nay, I’m in the right:

I will not out and risk a knocking down,

For though I like our king, I like my crown:

Besides, there is a time for Fools to play;

But, then, they must have nought, save good to say.

Chance, you will ask if this be tragedy;

We kill, indeed, but still ’tis comedy:

For none save bad do fall, which draws no tear,

Nor lets compassion sway your tender ear:

Play! grant it, then—the story ye have read,

For ’tis well chronicled in Hollinshed.

Now give your plaudits, and when that be done,

Your Fool shall bow, and thank ye ev’ry one,”

FINIS.

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