Edmund Ironside - Act 1. Scene 5
Scene V.
Enter E DMUND .
ELGIVA.
Thou, whom my soul for many tedious days
Hath sadly mourn'd — my life, my Edmund, welcome!
Oh! be not sad; forget thy wrongs awhile,
And to the Father and the Husband give
The present hour.
EDMUND.
Can I forget my wrongs?
My only treasure! since we met, this heart
Hath been bereav'd of all its dearest hopes.
Edrick perfidious. — Sure this world's a stage
For treach'ry to beguile in Friendship's form;
And foul Ingratitude to wound unpunish'd.
The hopeful mother, when she hears my wrongs,
Will view her softer'd infant with suspicion,
Lest it should prove her bane.
ELGIVA.
A faithless Brother!
A haughty Conqueror! A ruin'd Country!
Are subjects worthy of a Hero's tears.
Give me thy sorrows, Edmund, let me bear them.
EDMUND.
Thou bear them, sweet one! they would weigh thee down.
Misery hath mark'd me for her eldest born,
And given me all her hoard of wretchedness.
ELGIVA.
Ost has my Lord confess'd the lab'ring swain
More blest than he. Choose thou his humble lot.
Lo! Cambria's neighbouring hills, which rapine ne'er
Sought to invade, will shield thee from thy foes.
Her King though rude of speech, with honest joy,
Will meet thy worth, and in thy quarrel arm.
There (should success again desert thy sword)
May we not shelter: there securely dwell
With healthful exercise and calm delight.
Time's lenient hand shall soften all thy cares,
Nor e'en the mem'ry of thy ravish'd Crown
Awake regret.
EDMUND.
O that I ne'er had worn it!
Then, the rude business of the battle o'er,
I might have liv'd.
ELGIVA.
Art thou resolv'd to die?
EDMUND.
A Monarch lives but in his country's glory.
What means the envi'd title — Royalty?
Is it to smile, when Fortune smiles? to lead
A band of sycophants array'd in purple?
Is it to seast with luxury? to riot
In courtly pleasures? — Call'st thou this a King?
When with exulting Majesty he moves,
And bends his arched brows in fancy'd greatness.
These perilous times demand severe exertions.
The thought of law givers — the fire of heroes —
The statesman's care — the soldier's toil, must all
Center in me; and as I guard my birthright,
Chill Death alone shall pluck it from my grasp.
ELGIVA.
Is this thy purpose? wherefore then escape
The rage of war? Why just relieve my soul
From all its fears, with golden rays of hope?
Then leave me to despair.
EDMUND.
Oh! plead no more.
E'er long the Dane, crimson'd with British slaughter,
Will seek this Castle — now my little all.
But here my arm shall guard thee; my heart's blood
Buy thee a respite from the victor's power.
True to the last for Elgiva I'll die.
ELGIVA.
Wilt thou? Oh! torture.
EDMUND.
Kenelm, trusty friend,
Marshal the soldiers, least the wily foe
Surprize us unprepar'd. Weep nor, my love — —
But let us fill this transient pause of fate
With generous deeds and fortitude of soul.
So shall the Victor Dane with blushes own,
Success is not the sure reward of Virtue.
Enter E DMUND .
ELGIVA.
Thou, whom my soul for many tedious days
Hath sadly mourn'd — my life, my Edmund, welcome!
Oh! be not sad; forget thy wrongs awhile,
And to the Father and the Husband give
The present hour.
EDMUND.
Can I forget my wrongs?
My only treasure! since we met, this heart
Hath been bereav'd of all its dearest hopes.
Edrick perfidious. — Sure this world's a stage
For treach'ry to beguile in Friendship's form;
And foul Ingratitude to wound unpunish'd.
The hopeful mother, when she hears my wrongs,
Will view her softer'd infant with suspicion,
Lest it should prove her bane.
ELGIVA.
A faithless Brother!
A haughty Conqueror! A ruin'd Country!
Are subjects worthy of a Hero's tears.
Give me thy sorrows, Edmund, let me bear them.
EDMUND.
Thou bear them, sweet one! they would weigh thee down.
Misery hath mark'd me for her eldest born,
And given me all her hoard of wretchedness.
ELGIVA.
Ost has my Lord confess'd the lab'ring swain
More blest than he. Choose thou his humble lot.
Lo! Cambria's neighbouring hills, which rapine ne'er
Sought to invade, will shield thee from thy foes.
Her King though rude of speech, with honest joy,
Will meet thy worth, and in thy quarrel arm.
There (should success again desert thy sword)
May we not shelter: there securely dwell
With healthful exercise and calm delight.
Time's lenient hand shall soften all thy cares,
Nor e'en the mem'ry of thy ravish'd Crown
Awake regret.
EDMUND.
O that I ne'er had worn it!
Then, the rude business of the battle o'er,
I might have liv'd.
ELGIVA.
Art thou resolv'd to die?
EDMUND.
A Monarch lives but in his country's glory.
What means the envi'd title — Royalty?
Is it to smile, when Fortune smiles? to lead
A band of sycophants array'd in purple?
Is it to seast with luxury? to riot
In courtly pleasures? — Call'st thou this a King?
When with exulting Majesty he moves,
And bends his arched brows in fancy'd greatness.
These perilous times demand severe exertions.
The thought of law givers — the fire of heroes —
The statesman's care — the soldier's toil, must all
Center in me; and as I guard my birthright,
Chill Death alone shall pluck it from my grasp.
ELGIVA.
Is this thy purpose? wherefore then escape
The rage of war? Why just relieve my soul
From all its fears, with golden rays of hope?
Then leave me to despair.
EDMUND.
Oh! plead no more.
E'er long the Dane, crimson'd with British slaughter,
Will seek this Castle — now my little all.
But here my arm shall guard thee; my heart's blood
Buy thee a respite from the victor's power.
True to the last for Elgiva I'll die.
ELGIVA.
Wilt thou? Oh! torture.
EDMUND.
Kenelm, trusty friend,
Marshal the soldiers, least the wily foe
Surprize us unprepar'd. Weep nor, my love — —
But let us fill this transient pause of fate
With generous deeds and fortitude of soul.
So shall the Victor Dane with blushes own,
Success is not the sure reward of Virtue.
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