Scene IV.
Enter HAROLD,
Cefrid, my Lord, already has obtain'd
Admission in the Castle. So Prince Edrick,
Informs me. He requests to be admitted
To pay obeisance.
CANUTUS.
Ha! what wants the traitor?
Down, swelling heart! I must conceal resentment,
Enter EDRICK.
Oh! thou, whose more than mortal worth constrains
All hearts to lowly rev'rence, suffer Edrick
To pay, on bended knee, his vow'd allegiance.
CANUTUS.
Sir, ever pleased to call the brave our friend,
We wave the ceremonious forms of homage.
EDRICK.
A heart, by wonder and esteem, compell'd:
A zeal, to serve your cause, by none exceeded, —
Is all my little wealth. The brilliant lustre
Of your fair virtues drew my wond'ring eye.
The coras of brotherhood I quickly broke,
To lay me at your feet — intreat your favour;
Which granted, Nature's dearest bond I'll cancel,
And live or die to serve you. Seems this strange?
Friendship, by far, transcends the ties of blood
In truly gen'rous bosoms:
CANUTUS.
Much we thank you. —
Can Heav'n hear such a wretch nor launch its thunder?
EDRICK.
My steady love on ev'ry danger drives me.
In yonder tow'rs the crest-fall'n King collects
The thin remains of many a former battle:
Join'd, by the daring Mercian, he intends
To take the field; but there my cover wiles
Shall — —
CANUTUS.
Brave and gallant soul! Tho' sore defeated,
Fresh and undaunted, he renews the charge.
To bear prosperity is poor applause:
But to endure the gloom of such misfortunes,
Bespeaks a mind too noble for despair.
EDRIC.
Since in the race of honour he hath lost,
'Twere better far Edmund should cease debate,
And to the victor yield the toil'd-for Crown.
Thus to rebel 'gainst Heaven's awarding hand,
Displays presumption.
CANUTUS.
Think'st thou, Prince, to gain
My favour, by maligning Edmund's worth?
Hast thou not robb'd him of his Crown and Glory?
Spare his good name, 'tis now the Hero's all. —
Perdition catch the wretch! Hoath his presence.
EDRICK.
Reproach from thee, proud Dane, whom by my crimes
I seem to serve! Beware — Revenge is mine.
Would'st think, my Lord, this slight attempt of Edmund's
Could wake our Master's fear?
HAROLD.
All fear he scorns.
Fix'd as a laurel, whilst the light'ning glares,
He stands 'mid dangers.
EDRICK.
So sincere my love,
For him I'd venture deeds: Posterity
Should scarce believe.
HAROLD.
Ashdown records those actions.
What canst thou more?
EDRICK.
I know my Brother's temper;
Open and free, the qualities of fools,
Which abler heads can fashion. These I'll use:
Seek out his presence — fasten on his knees —
So weep — condemn — confess, that in his heart
He will replace me; then tax all my power
For Denmark's good.
HAROLD.
Be that thy care, and trust
Our King for thy reward.
EDRICK.
He promis'd me,
At Ashdown battle, to exalt my state
Above the noblest Dane or proudest Briton.
HAROLD.
Our King reveres his oath, and honours Heaven.
But say, dread Prince, why lives such enmity
'Twixt you and Edmund? Rumour speaks him noble
Of temper — sweet in carriage — affable —
In fine, — a man that ev'ry grace adorns.
EDRICK.
He, that believes report, is trick'd by Falsehood.
Some she extols as if the sons of Light.
Some she defames. 'Tis whim and all caprice,
Edmund's her idol: I her scorn. Yet Edmund,
To me, was most unjust for all my labours.
Did he requite me? Yes, he seiz'd the Earldom
Consigned me by my Sire.
HAROLD.
On what pretext?
EDRICK
A rude demand of Cefrid's. True, my Father
Once gave it him, but for the boon required
Some small achievements. When the Dotard pleaded
Conscience — Religion: Such reply incens'd
My powerful father. The proud Earl he banish'd,
And grac'd me with his honours. I enjoy'd them;
Till on his death my Brother climb'd the Throne,
Who sternly will'd me to resign my claims.
HAROLD.
Did you obey?
EDRICK.
Astonished, — I intreated,
Threat'ned, protested, rag'd, and storm'd, in vain:
But since that hour, as misers hug their gold,
I've treasur'd my revenge. Dost thou not think
The haughty King, when Britain, by my wiles,
Was girt with death, deplored the injury?
HAROLD.
He mourn'd, when round in heaps his soldiers fell.
Oh! 'twas a subject for a Monarch's tears!
E'en great Canutus stopp'd his mighty arm,
As if unwilling to increase his woe.
EDRICK.
Be that my task: my pleasures are his pains,
Commend me to our Master, and assure him
Of my unswerving faith.
HAROLD.
Advent'rous youth!
Go thou and prosper. For thy hellish deeds,
With ample carnage, glut the Danish raven.
Enter HAROLD,
Cefrid, my Lord, already has obtain'd
Admission in the Castle. So Prince Edrick,
Informs me. He requests to be admitted
To pay obeisance.
CANUTUS.
Ha! what wants the traitor?
Down, swelling heart! I must conceal resentment,
Enter EDRICK.
Oh! thou, whose more than mortal worth constrains
All hearts to lowly rev'rence, suffer Edrick
To pay, on bended knee, his vow'd allegiance.
CANUTUS.
Sir, ever pleased to call the brave our friend,
We wave the ceremonious forms of homage.
EDRICK.
A heart, by wonder and esteem, compell'd:
A zeal, to serve your cause, by none exceeded, —
Is all my little wealth. The brilliant lustre
Of your fair virtues drew my wond'ring eye.
The coras of brotherhood I quickly broke,
To lay me at your feet — intreat your favour;
Which granted, Nature's dearest bond I'll cancel,
And live or die to serve you. Seems this strange?
Friendship, by far, transcends the ties of blood
In truly gen'rous bosoms:
CANUTUS.
Much we thank you. —
Can Heav'n hear such a wretch nor launch its thunder?
EDRICK.
My steady love on ev'ry danger drives me.
In yonder tow'rs the crest-fall'n King collects
The thin remains of many a former battle:
Join'd, by the daring Mercian, he intends
To take the field; but there my cover wiles
Shall — —
CANUTUS.
Brave and gallant soul! Tho' sore defeated,
Fresh and undaunted, he renews the charge.
To bear prosperity is poor applause:
But to endure the gloom of such misfortunes,
Bespeaks a mind too noble for despair.
EDRIC.
Since in the race of honour he hath lost,
'Twere better far Edmund should cease debate,
And to the victor yield the toil'd-for Crown.
Thus to rebel 'gainst Heaven's awarding hand,
Displays presumption.
CANUTUS.
Think'st thou, Prince, to gain
My favour, by maligning Edmund's worth?
Hast thou not robb'd him of his Crown and Glory?
Spare his good name, 'tis now the Hero's all. —
Perdition catch the wretch! Hoath his presence.
EDRICK.
Reproach from thee, proud Dane, whom by my crimes
I seem to serve! Beware — Revenge is mine.
Would'st think, my Lord, this slight attempt of Edmund's
Could wake our Master's fear?
HAROLD.
All fear he scorns.
Fix'd as a laurel, whilst the light'ning glares,
He stands 'mid dangers.
EDRICK.
So sincere my love,
For him I'd venture deeds: Posterity
Should scarce believe.
HAROLD.
Ashdown records those actions.
What canst thou more?
EDRICK.
I know my Brother's temper;
Open and free, the qualities of fools,
Which abler heads can fashion. These I'll use:
Seek out his presence — fasten on his knees —
So weep — condemn — confess, that in his heart
He will replace me; then tax all my power
For Denmark's good.
HAROLD.
Be that thy care, and trust
Our King for thy reward.
EDRICK.
He promis'd me,
At Ashdown battle, to exalt my state
Above the noblest Dane or proudest Briton.
HAROLD.
Our King reveres his oath, and honours Heaven.
But say, dread Prince, why lives such enmity
'Twixt you and Edmund? Rumour speaks him noble
Of temper — sweet in carriage — affable —
In fine, — a man that ev'ry grace adorns.
EDRICK.
He, that believes report, is trick'd by Falsehood.
Some she extols as if the sons of Light.
Some she defames. 'Tis whim and all caprice,
Edmund's her idol: I her scorn. Yet Edmund,
To me, was most unjust for all my labours.
Did he requite me? Yes, he seiz'd the Earldom
Consigned me by my Sire.
HAROLD.
On what pretext?
EDRICK
A rude demand of Cefrid's. True, my Father
Once gave it him, but for the boon required
Some small achievements. When the Dotard pleaded
Conscience — Religion: Such reply incens'd
My powerful father. The proud Earl he banish'd,
And grac'd me with his honours. I enjoy'd them;
Till on his death my Brother climb'd the Throne,
Who sternly will'd me to resign my claims.
HAROLD.
Did you obey?
EDRICK.
Astonished, — I intreated,
Threat'ned, protested, rag'd, and storm'd, in vain:
But since that hour, as misers hug their gold,
I've treasur'd my revenge. Dost thou not think
The haughty King, when Britain, by my wiles,
Was girt with death, deplored the injury?
HAROLD.
He mourn'd, when round in heaps his soldiers fell.
Oh! 'twas a subject for a Monarch's tears!
E'en great Canutus stopp'd his mighty arm,
As if unwilling to increase his woe.
EDRICK.
Be that my task: my pleasures are his pains,
Commend me to our Master, and assure him
Of my unswerving faith.
HAROLD.
Advent'rous youth!
Go thou and prosper. For thy hellish deeds,
With ample carnage, glut the Danish raven.