bfc-

 
 *-~
 
 ALFRED: 
 
 MASQUE. 
 
 Acted at the 
 
 THEATRE-ROYAL 
 
 IN 
 
 DRUR Y-LANE, 
 
 By His Majesty's Servants, 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for A. Millar, oppofite to Catharine- 
 Street, in the Strand. 
 M. DCC, LI. 
 
 f> O. O; f} ^| 
 
 O : c .
 
 Advertifement. 
 
 vz TTAving been obliged to difcontinue the Duke 
 ^ o/'Marlborough'j Hifioryfor a few 
 
 * months paft, till I could receive from a foreign 
 country fome papers of importance ; that I might 
 not be quite idle in the mean while, I read over, in 
 order to improve, this Masque ; the fir jl draught 
 of which had been written by the late Mr, Thom- 
 A son, in conjunction with me, fever aly ears ago. But, 
 t* to fit it for the fi age, 1 found it would be necejfary 
 *\* to new-plan the whole, as well as write the parti - 
 cidar fcenes over again ; to enlarge the defign, and 
 make Alfred, what hefijould have been at fir ft, 
 ^ the principal figure in his own Masque. 'Ths 
 ^ I have done ; but, according to the prefent arrange- 
 ment of the Fable, I was obliged to rejeffi a great 
 deal of what I had written in the other : neither 
 (3 could I retain, of my friend's part, more than 
 *J three or four fingk fpceches, and a part ofonefong. 
 I mention this exprefsly -, that, whatever faults 
 are found in the prefent performance, they may 
 be charged^ as they ought to be, entirely to my 
 account. 
 
 D. Mallet.
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 ByaFRIEND. 
 
 Spoken by Mr. G A R R I C K. 
 
 /N arms renown' d, for arts of peace ador'd, 
 Alfred, the nation's father, more -than !ord ) 
 A Britifh author has prefumd to draw, 
 Struck deep, even now, with reverential awe ; 
 Andfets the godlike figure fair in view 
 O may difcernment find the likenefs true. 
 
 When Danifh fury, with wide-wajling hand, 
 Had fpread pale fear, and ravage o'er the land, 
 This prince arifing bade cwfufion ceafe, 
 Bade order jhine, and blejl his ifle with peace ; 
 Taught liberal arts to humanize the mind, 
 And heaven-born fcience to fweet freedom join' d. 
 United thus, the friendly fiflcrs Jhone, 
 And one fecur'd, while one adorn d, his throne. 
 Amidjl thefe honours of his happy reign, 
 Each Grace and every Mufe compos d his train : 
 As grateful fervants, all exidting flrove, 
 At once to fpread his fame, and Jhare his love. 
 
 To night, if aught of fid ion you behold, 
 Think not, in Virtue's caufe, the bard too bold. 
 If ever angels from tbefkies defend, 
 It mujl be truth and freedom to defend. 
 
 Thus would our author pleafe be it your pari , 
 If not his labors, to approve his heart. 
 True to his country's, and to honor s caufe, 
 He fixes, there, his fame, and your applaufe; 
 TViJhes no failing from your fight to hide, 
 But, by free Britons, will be freely tr/d.
 
 PERSONS. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Earl of Devon. 
 
 Edwin. 
 
 Hermit. 
 
 CORIN. 
 
 Danish King. 
 Flrjl Dane. 
 Second Dane. 
 
 Mr. Garrick. 
 Mr. Lee. 
 Mr. Burton. 
 Mr. Berry. 
 Mr. Blakes. 
 Mr. Sowdon. 
 Mr. Palmer. 
 Mr. Mozen. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 Emma. 
 Shepherdess. 
 
 Mifs Bellamy. 
 Mrs. Bennet. 
 Mifs Minors. 
 
 The Vocal Parts by 
 Ms. Clive, Mifs Norrts, Mr. Beard, /^.Rein- 
 hold, Mr. Wilder, Mafler Vernon, "Zc. 
 
 Shcpherdeffes, Soldiers, Attendants, Spirits. 
 
 Tiie SCENE reprefents a Plain, furrounded with woods. 
 On one fide, a cottage; on the other, flocks and herds in dijlant 
 profpecl. A Hermit's cnve in full viciv, over-hung with 
 trees, wild and grctefque.
 
 A L F R E 
 
 A 
 
 MASQUE 
 
 /i3QQ9QQQOQ9<^SOGQQQSC?QgQgfc 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Cor in' and Emma appear at the door of their cottage. 
 Two Shepherdesses. 
 
 Firjl Shepherdess fings. 
 
 & PEACE, the fair eft child of heaven, 
 To whom the fy Ivan reign was given, 
 The vale, the fountain, and the grove. 
 With every fofter fcene ef love ; 
 Return, fweet Peace, to chear the weeping fwain : 
 Return, with Eafe and Pleafure in thy train. 
 
 Emma.
 
 2 ALFRED: 
 
 Emma, coming forward. 
 Shepherd, 'tis he. Againft yon aged oak, 
 Penfive and loft in thought, he leans his head. 
 
 Corin. 
 Soft : let us not diflurb him. Gentle Emma, 
 Poor tho he be, unfriended and unknown, 
 My pity waits with reverence on his fortune. 
 Modeft of carriage, and of fpeech moft gracious, 
 As if fome faint or angel in difguife 
 Had grae'd our lowly cottage with his prefence, 
 He fteals, I know not how, into the heart, 
 And makes it pant to ferve him. Truft me, Emma, 
 He is no common man. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Some lord, perhaps, 
 Or valiant chief, that from our deadly foe, 
 The haughty, cruel, unbelieving Dane> 
 Seeks fhelter here. 
 
 Corin. 
 And fhelter he (hall find : 
 Who loves his country, is my friend and brother. 
 Behold him well. Fair manhood in it's prime, 
 Even thro the homely ruflet that conceals him, 
 Shines forth, and proves him noble. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 'Tis moft like, 
 He is not what his prefent fortunes fpeak him. 
 But, ah ! th' inhuman foe is all around us : 
 We dare not keep him here. 
 
 Corin.
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 3 
 
 CORIN. 
 
 Thou haft not weighed 
 This ifland's force ; the deep defence of woods, 
 Nature's own hand hath planted flrong around j 
 The rough encumbrance of perplexing thorns, 
 Of intertwining brakes that rife between, 
 And choak up every inlet from abroad. 
 Yet more; thou know'ft, beyond this woody verge 
 Two rivers broad and rapid hem us in ; 
 Along whofe border fpreads the gulphy pool, 
 And trembling quagmire to betray the foot 
 It's treacherous greenfword tempts. One path alone 
 Winds to this plain, fo difficult and ftrait, 
 My fingle arm, againft a band of foes, 
 Could long, perhaps, defend it. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Yet, my Corin, 
 Revolve the ftern decree of that fierce tyrant, 
 The Danijb king : " Who harbours, or relieves 
 c An Englijb captain, dies the death of traitors : 
 " But who their haunts difcovers, (hall be fafe, 
 And high rewarded." 
 
 Corin. 
 
 Now, juft heaven forbid. 
 An Englijhman mould ever count for gain 
 What villainy muft earn. No : are we poor ? 
 Be honefty our riches. Are we mean, 
 And humbly born ? The true heart makes us noble, 
 Thefe hands can toil ; can fow the ground and reap 
 For thee and thy fweet babes. Our daily labour 
 
 B 2 h
 
 4 ALFRED: 
 
 Is daily wealth : it finds us bread and raiment. 
 Could Danijh gold give more ? 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Alas the while ! 
 That loyal faith is fled from hall and bower, 
 To dwell with village-fwains ! 
 
 Corin. 
 
 Ah look! behold, 
 Where Edith, all-abandon'd to defpair, 
 Hangs weeping o'er the brook. 
 
 Second Shepherdess approaches Jlowly to f aft mujic. 
 Is there not caufe ? 
 
 She
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 
 
 Shefngs. 
 
 I. 
 
 A youth adorn' d with every art, 
 To warm and win the coldefi heart, 
 
 In fecret mine pojfejl : 
 The morning bud that fair eji blows. 
 The vernal oak that Jlraitejl grows, 
 
 His face and Jhape expre/i. 
 
 II. 
 
 In moving founds he told his tale, 
 Soft as the fighings of the gale 
 
 That wakes the flowery year. 
 What wonder he could charm with eafe 
 Whom happy nature fonnd to pleafe, 
 
 W^hom love had made fmcere. 
 
 III. 
 
 At morn he left me fought, and fell; 
 The fatal evening heard his knell, 
 
 And jaw the tears IJhed: 
 Tears that mufl ever, ever fall j 
 For ah ! noflghs the pajl recall, 
 
 No cries awake the dead! 
 
 Cor in
 
 6 ALFRED: 
 
 CoRIN. 
 
 Unhappy maid ! yet not alone in woe : 
 For look, where our fad gueft, like fome fair tree 
 Torn from the root by winter's cruel blaft, 
 Lies on the ground o'erthrown. 
 Emma. 
 
 I weep, to fee it? 
 
 Corin. 
 
 Thou haft a heart fweet pity loves to dwell in : 
 
 But, dry thy tears, and lean on this juft hope 
 
 If yet to 'do away his country's fhame, 
 
 To ferve her bravely on fome bleft occafion ; 
 
 If for thefe ends this ftranger fought our cottage, 
 
 The heavenly hofts are hovering here unfeen, 
 
 To guard his facred life, and blefs us all. 
 
 But let us hence : he rifes to embrace 
 
 His friend, a woodman of the neighbouring dale, 
 
 Whom late, as yefter-evening ftar arofe, 
 
 At his requeft I bid to meet him here. 
 
 SCENE
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Alfred, Earl of Devon. 
 
 Alfred. 
 How long, juft heaven ! how long 
 Shall war's fell ravage defolate this land ? 
 All, all is loft and Alfred lives to tell it ! 
 Are thefe things fo ? and he without the means 
 Of great revenge ? caft down below the hope 
 Of fuccouring thofe he weeps for ? 
 Devon. 
 
 Gracious Alfred, 
 England's laft hope, whofe feeling goodnefs fhews 
 What angels are ; to bear, with fuch a prince, 
 The worft of ills, exile, or chains, or death, 
 Is happinefs, is glory. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Ah ! look round thee 
 That mud-built cottage is thy fovereign's palace. 
 Yon hind, whofe daily toil is all his wealth, 
 Lodges and feeds him. Are thefe times for flattery ? 
 Or call it praife : fuch gaudy attributes- 
 Would mifbecome our bell and proudeft fortunes. 
 But what are mine ? What is this high-priz'd Alfred ? 
 Among ten thoufand wretches moft undone ! 
 
 4 That
 
 8 ALFRED: 
 
 That prince who fees his country laid in ruins, 
 
 His fubje&s perifhing beneath the fword 
 
 Of foreign war ; who fees and cannot fave them, 
 
 Is but fuprcme in mifery ! But on, 
 
 Proceed, my lord ; compleat the mournful tale, 
 
 My griefs broke off. 
 
 Devon. 
 From yonder heath-clad hill, 
 Far as my {training eye could fhoot it's beam 
 I look'd, and faw the progrefs of the foe, 
 As of fome tempeft, fome devouring tide, 
 That ruins, without mercy, where it fpreads. 
 The riches of the year, the bread of thoufands 
 That liberal crown'd our plains from vale to hill, 
 With intermingled forefts, temples, towers, 
 Now fmoak to heaven, one broad-afcending cloud. 
 But oh for pity ! on each mountain's height, 
 Shivering and fad the pale inhabitants, 
 Gray-headed age and youth, all flood and mark'd 
 This boundlefs ravage : motionlefs and mute, 
 With hands to heaven up-rais'd, they flood and wept' 
 My tears attended theirs 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 If this fad fight 
 Could pain thee to fuch anguifh, what muft I 
 Their king and parent feel ? 
 
 Devon.
 
 A M A i> M_ U ,. 9 
 
 Devon. 
 
 Sir, be of comfort. 
 Who has not known ill fortune* never kneW 
 Himfelf, or his own virtue. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Well rto more 
 Complaint is for the vulgar : kings muft act j 
 Reftore a ruin'd ftate, or perifh with it. 
 Defpair mall be our ftrcngth 
 
 Devon. 
 
 Behold, my lord, 
 From yonder hazle copfe, who iiTues forth, 
 And moves this way a ftranger but his look 
 Speaks hafte and apprehenfion 
 Alfred. 
 
 Ha! beyond 
 My utmoft hope! Tis Edwin 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Alfred* Devon, Edwin. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Haft thou ought 
 Of joyful to impart ? or is the foul 
 Of England dead indeed ? 
 
 Q vEpWIN,
 
 10 
 
 ALFRED: 
 
 Edwin. 
 My gracious matter, 
 This journey has been fruitful to our wifh. 
 Awak'd, as from the laft and mortal trance, 
 That foul, which fcem'd extinguifh'd, lives again. 
 Bv me affurd,. their fovereign ftill furvives, 
 Survives to take due vengeance on thofe robbers, 
 Who violate the fanclity of leagues, 
 The reverend feal of oaths ; who bafely broke, 
 Like midnight ruffians, on the hour of peace, 
 And ftole a vidlory from men unarm'd ; 
 Of this aftWd, your people breathe once more. 
 The fpirit of our anceftors is up ! 
 The fpirit of the free ! and, with one voice 
 Of happy omen, all demand their king. 
 
 Alfred. 
 Then, heaven who knows our wrongs will deign to guide 
 The virtue it infpires My lord, how found 
 Thefe tidings in your ears ? 
 
 Devon: 
 
 As the fure omen 
 Of better fate, my heart receives and hails them. 
 For know, my liege, the fury of thofe Danes, 
 This laft dire fcene of total defolation, 
 Will kindle up the flame to feven-fold fiercenefs i 
 New-wing each (haft, edge every lifted fword, 
 And drive 
 
 Alfred.
 
 A M A S QJJ E. i r 
 
 Alfred. 
 A moment Edwin, yet inform me 
 What numbers have you gather 'd ? how difpos'd, 
 Where ported them ? 
 
 Edwin. 
 
 In thefe furrounding wood*, 
 Soon as the made of night defcends to veil them, 
 A generous few, the veteran hardy gleanings 
 Of many a well-fought field, all at one hour, 
 Behind the rufhy brook from hence due eaft, 
 By different paths, and in fmall parties meet, 
 Accoutred at all points : and, as I judge, 
 Their numbers count twelve hundred. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Ha ! twelve hundred 
 Incredible foft-~Iet me duly weigh 
 What I, unhoping, fcarce believing, hear. 
 Something muff, now, be done Ay, that attempt 
 Is great but greatly hazardous why then, 
 Neceflity, our juft plea, muft excufe 
 The defperate daring her hard law impofes. 
 Hear, my brave friends. One caftle ftill is ours, 
 Tho clofe begirt and fhaken by the Danes. 
 Devon, fpeed thither : find out that ciofe path, 
 By Edwin's eye and aid, which from the midft, 
 The central point of Kinwith-forejl winds 
 In deep defcent ; and, under ground prolong, 
 Safe in the fortrefs ends. 
 
 C % Devon.
 
 12 ALFRED: 
 
 Devon. 
 
 Suppofe me there : 
 \That follows this, my lord ? 
 
 ALFRED. 
 
 Be it your part 
 To animate our brothers of the war, 
 Thofe Englijhmen^ who yet dcferve that name. 
 The foe dwell much on this by our known weakncfe 
 Made daring and fecure, will now the rein 
 Of difcipline relax, and to loofe revel 
 Indulge the midnight hour. Therefore, at three 
 O count the clock with more than lovers' vigilance 
 At three, that chofen band feall from behind, 
 Rifing at once, with Alfred at their head, 
 AfTail the hoftile camp : while your warm fally, 
 That very moment, pours upon it's front. 
 Hence : and fuccefs be thine. 
 
 Devon. 
 
 On this our purpofe, 
 The facred caufe of liberty and vengeance, 
 Smile, righteous heaven ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 O urge it home, my friend, 
 That each man's fword now wears upon it's point 
 The prefent age, and laft pofterity ! 
 Farewell. Edwin, within the hour return^ 
 And find me here, 
 
 $ C E N E
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 13 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Alfred: 
 Ha ! day declines apace; 
 What anxious thoughts, in this wild folitude, 
 My darker hours muft know ? And now, the veil 
 Of evening, o'er thefe murmuring woods around, 
 . A lonely horror fpreads But foft : the breeze 
 Is dumb ! and more than midnight filence reigns ! 
 Why beats my bofom ? Mufic ! Shield me, heaven ! 
 Whence mould it come ? Hark ! nowthemeafur'd {trains. 
 In awful fweetnefs warbling, ftrike my fenfe, 
 As if fome wing'd mufician of the Iky 
 Touch'd his ethereal harp. 
 
 SCENE
 
 14 ALFRED! 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Solemn mufu is heard at a dijlance. It comes nearer in a full 
 fymphony : after which a fingle trumpet founds a high and 
 awakening air. Then the following Jlanzas are fung by two 
 aereal Spirits. 
 
 ^ Firji Spirit. 
 Hear, Alfred, father of theflate, 
 Thy genius heaven's high will declare f 
 What proves the hero truly great t 
 Is never, never to defpair. 
 Both Spirits, 
 Is never to defpair, 
 
 Second Spirit. 
 Iliy hope awake, thy heart expand 
 With all its vigour, all its fires : 
 Arife, andfave a finking land ! 
 "Thy country calls and heaven infpires. 
 Both Spirits. 
 Earth calls and heaven infpires. 
 
 SCENE
 
 A MAS QJJ E. 15 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Alfred. 
 Am I awake ! and is it no illufion 
 That heaven thus deigns to look with mercy on me ? 
 Thus, by his minifters, to chear my heart, 
 And warm it into hope ? But lo ! he comes, 
 Whom angels deign to vifit and infpire, 
 The holy fage, descending from his cell 
 In yon hill's cavern'd fide : fweet fylva/i fcene 
 Where fhade and filence dwell ! 
 
 &$$$$$$$$$$H&; 
 
 SCENE VII.. 
 
 Alfred, Hermit. 
 
 Alfred. 
 Thrice happy Hermit ! 
 Whom thus the heavenly habitants attend, 
 Blefling thy calm retreat ; while ruthlefs war 
 Fills the polluted land with blood and crimes. 
 
 In
 
 t& ALFRED: 
 
 In this extremity of England's fate, 
 
 Led by thy facred character, I come 
 
 For comfort and advice. Say what remains, 
 
 What yet remains to fave our proftrate country ? 
 
 Nor fcorn this anxious queftion even from me, 
 
 A namelefs ftranger. 
 
 Hermit: 
 Alfred, England's king, 
 All hail, and welcome to this humble cell. 
 
 Alfred. 
 Amazement ! by thefe humbte weeds obfeur'd, 
 I deem'd my ftate beyond difcovery's reach : 
 How is it then to thee alone reveal'd ? 
 
 Hermit. 
 Laft night, when with a draught from that cool fountain 
 I had my wholefome fober fupper crown'd ; 
 As is my ftated cuftom, forth I walk'd 
 Beneath the folemn gloom and glittering sky, 
 To feed my foul with prayer and meditation. 
 And thus to inward harmony compos'd, 
 That fweeteft mufic of the grateful heart, 
 Whofe each emotion is a filent hymn, 
 I to my couch retir'd. Strait on mine eyes 
 A pleafing (lumber fell, whofe myftic power 
 Seal'd up my fenfes, but enlarg'd my foul. 
 Led by thofe fpirits, who difclofe futurity, 
 I liv'd thro diftantages; felt the virtue, 
 The great, the glorious pafRons that will fire 
 Remote poilcrity ; when guardian laws 
 Are by the patriot, in the glowing fenate, 
 
 i 
 
 Won
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 17 
 
 Won from corruption ; when th' impatient arm 
 Of liberty, invincible, mall fcourge 
 The tyrants of mankind and when the deep, 
 Thro all her fwelling waves, from pole to pole 
 Shall fpread the boundlefs empire of thy fons. 
 I fawthee, Alfred, too But o'er thy fortunes 
 Lay clouds impenetrable. 
 
 Alfred. 
 To heaven's wiJJ, 
 In either fortune, mine fhall ever bend 
 With humbleft refignation Yet, O fay, 
 Does that unerring Providence, whofe juftfce 
 Has bow'd me to the dull ; whofe minifters, 
 Sword, fire and famine, fcourge this finful land, 
 This tomb of it's inhabitants does he 
 Referve me in his hand, the glorious inflrument 
 From fierce oppreflion to redeem my country ? 
 
 Hermit. 
 What mortal eye, by his immediate beam 
 Not yet enlighten'd, dare prefume to look 
 Thro time's abyfs ? But mould the flatterer, hope, 
 Anticipating fee that happy time, 
 Thofe whiter moments Prince, remember, then, 
 The noble leflbns by affliction taught : 
 Preferve the quick humanity it gives, 
 The pitying focial fenfe of human wcaknefs j 
 Yet keep thy generous fortitude entire, 
 The manly heart, that to another's woe 
 Is tender, as fuperiour to it's own. 
 
 D Learn
 
 18 ALFRED: 
 
 JLearn to fubmit : yet learn to conquer fortune. 
 Attach thee firmly to the virtuous deeds 
 And offices of life : to life itfelf, 
 With all it's vain and tranfient joys, fit loofe. 
 Chief, let devotion to the fovereign Mind, 
 A ftcady, chcarful, abfolute dependance 
 On his bed wifeft government, poffefs thee, 
 
 Alpred. 
 I thank thee, father : and O witnefs, heaven, 
 Whofe eye the heart's profoundeft depth explores ! 
 That if not to perform my regal tafk ; 
 To be the common father of my people, 
 patron of honor, virtue and religion ; 
 If not to flicker ufeful worth, to guard 
 His well-earn'd portion from the fons of rapine, 
 And deal out juftice with impartial hand ; 
 If not to fpread, on all good men, thy bounty, 
 The treafures trufted to me, not my own ; 
 U not to raife anew our Englijh name, 
 By peaceful arts that grace the land they blefs, 
 And generous war to humble proud opprefTors ; 
 Yet more ; if not to build the public weal, 
 On that firm bafe which can alone refift 
 Both time and chance, on liberty and law j 
 If I for thefe great ends am not ordain'd 
 May I ne'er poorly fill the throne of England! 
 
 Hermit.
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 
 
 Hermit, 
 Still may thy breaft thefe fentiments retain, 
 In profperous life. 
 
 Alfred. 
 Could it deftroy or change 
 Such thoughts as thefe, profperity were ruin* 
 
 i) 2 
 
 19 
 
 'i \U9
 
 ALFRED 
 
 Two Spirits y?w the following hymn. 
 
 First. 
 
 O joy of joys, to lighten woe ! 
 Bejl pleafure, pleafure to be/low ! 
 What raptures then his heart expand. 
 Who lives to hlefs a grateful land. 
 
 Second Spirit. 
 For him, ten thoufand bofo?ns heat ; 
 His name confenting crouds repeat : 
 From foul to foul the paffion runs, 
 JndjubjeJfs kindle intofons, 
 
 IIfrmit
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 21 
 
 Hermit. 
 Alfred, once more fince favour'd thus of heaven,' 
 Since thus to cheer thee and confirm thy virtue 
 He fends his angels forth remember well, 
 Should better days reftore thy profperous fortunes, 
 The vows thefe awful beings hear thee make : 
 Remember and fulfil them. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 O no more 
 When thofe whom heaven diftinguifhes o'er millions, 
 And fhowers profufely power and fplendor on them,' 
 Whate'er th' expanded heart can wifh ; when they, 
 Accepting the reward, neglect the duty, 
 Or worfe, pervert thofe gifts to deeds of ruin, 
 Is there a wretch they rule fo bafe as they ? 
 Guilty, at once, of facrilege to heaven ! 
 And of perfidious robbery to man ! 
 
 Hermit. 
 Such thoughts become a monarch but behold, 
 The glimmering dusk, involving air and sky, 
 Creeps flow and folemn on. Devotion now, 
 With eye enraptur'd, as the kindling ftars 
 Light, one by one, all heaven into a glow 
 Of living fire, adores the Hand divine, 
 Who form'd their orbs and pour'd forth glory on them. 
 
 Alfred.
 
 22 
 
 ALFRED: 
 
 Alfred. 
 Then, this good moment, fnatch'd from earth's affairs, 
 Let us employ aright : and, in yon cell, 
 To Him, with heart fincere, our homage pay, 
 Who glorious fpreads and gracious fhuts the day. 
 
 End of the Firjl A5f. 
 
 ACT
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 
 
 2 3 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 Emma, and other Peafants. 
 
 WISH'D evening now is come : but her foft hour, 
 Clofe of our daily toil, that wont to found 
 Sweet with the fhepherd's pipe and virgin's voice, 
 Is chearlefs all and mute. 
 
 Second Shepherdess. 
 
 Heaven's will be ours. 
 And fince no grief can yefterday recall, 
 Nor change tomorrow's face; now let us foothe 
 The prefent as we may with dance and fong, 
 To lighten fad remembrance. 
 
 Flrji
 
 24 ALFRED: 
 
 Firji Shepherdess fwgs. 
 
 I. 
 
 The Jhepherd' s plain lift, 
 
 Without guilt, without Jlrife y 
 Can only true blejjings impart. 
 
 As nature direcls, 
 
 That blifs he cxpecls 
 From health and from quiet of heart, 
 
 II. 
 
 Vain grandeur and power j 
 
 Thofe toys of an hour, 
 TI:o mortals are toiling to find , 
 
 Can titles or /how 
 
 Contentment beflow? 
 All happinefs dwells in the mind. 
 
 III. 
 
 Behold the gay rofe, 
 
 Hozv lovely it grows, 
 Secure in the depth of the vale. 
 
 Ton oak, that on high 
 
 Afpires to the sky, 
 Both lightning and tem^efl affail. 
 
 IV. Then
 
 A M A S Q_U E. 2$ 
 
 iv. 
 
 Then let us the fn are 
 
 Of Ambition beware^ 
 Thatfource of vexation andfmartz 
 
 And fport on the glade y 
 
 Or repofe in the Jha-de, 
 With health and with quiet of heart* 
 
 Here a paforal dance. 
 
 SCENE
 
 26 ALFRED: 
 
 mmsm&m 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Corin, Emma, Peasants. 
 
 Corin. 
 happy hour ! wife, neighbours fuch, fuch news ' 
 I fhall run wild with joy ! 
 
 Emma. 
 
 Speak, fhephcrd j fay, 
 What moves thee thus ? 
 
 Corin. 
 
 The king is in our ifle ' 
 
 Emma. 
 Can it be poiTible ? 
 
 Peasant. 
 What do I hear ? 
 
 Corin. 
 As now Lpafs'd beneath the hermit's cell, 
 1 heard that wonderous man pronounce his name, 
 O Emma, the poor ftranger whom we fcrv'd 
 And honour'd, all-unknowing of his ftate, 
 h he ' our ^reat and gracious Alfred ! 
 
 Am..
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 27 
 
 All. 
 
 Heaven ! 
 
 Then are we bleft indeed ! 
 
 Corin. 
 
 My humble cottage, 
 
 Long ages hence, when we are dull, my friends, 
 
 In holy pilgrimage oft vifited, 
 
 Will draw true Englijh knees to worfhip there, 
 
 As at the fhrine of fome propitious faint, 
 
 Or angel friendly to mankind The thought 
 
 Brings tears into mine eyes. 
 
 . . Emma. 
 
 Does joy deceive 
 
 My fenfe? or did I hear a diftant voice 
 
 Sigh thro the vale and wake the mournful echo ? 
 
 The following fong , 
 itfung by a per/on unfeen- 
 
 E 2 I. Ti
 
 2$ ALFRED: 
 
 I. 
 
 Ye woods and ye mountains unknown, 
 Beneath wkofe palejhadows I J? ray, 
 To the breaji of my cfxirmer alone 
 Thefefghs bid fweet echo convey. 
 Wherever he penfively leans, 
 By fountain, an hill, or in grove, 
 His heart will explain what Jhe means, 
 Whofmgs both from forrow and love. 
 
 Corin. 
 The evening wood -lark warbles in her voice. 
 Who can this be ? 
 
 Emma. 
 Peace, peace : fhe lings again. 
 
 II. 
 
 Morefoft than the nightingale' 's fong, 
 O waft the fad found to his ear ; 
 And fay, iho divided fo long, 
 The friend of his bofom is near. 
 Then tell him what years of delight, 
 Tnen tell him what ages of pain, 
 J felt while I livd in his fight ! 
 J feel till I fee him again / 
 
 Corin,
 
 A M A S QJLT E. 29 
 
 CORIN. 
 
 What think ye, friends ? Such moving, melting foftnefs 
 Breathes in thefe fweet complainings, as till now 
 Mine ear was never bleft with. Let us go 
 And find out this new wonder. 
 
 Second Shepherdess; 
 
 Look, .the king ! 
 Emma. 
 Now, by my holidame, a goodly perfon, 
 And of raoft noble mein. 
 
 CORIN. 
 
 Difturb him not. 
 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Alfred, Hermit. 
 
 Hermit. 
 Your enterprife is bold and may be fatal : 
 Yet I condemn it not. All is not rafhnefs, 
 That valor of more common fize might think, 
 And caution term fo. Souls of nobler fcope, 
 Whofe comprchenhve fight beholds at once 
 And weighs the fum of tilings, are their own rule, 
 t\xA tc be judg'd but by thcmfclves alone, 
 
 ? Alfred.
 
 -o ALFRED: 
 
 Alfred. 
 Then, in the name of that infpiring Power, 
 Whofe deputy I am, who fends me forth 
 His minifkr of vengeance, on I go 
 To victory, or death. 
 
 [Js be is going cut, hejlopsjhort. 
 What do I feel ? 
 Save me ! a holy horror ftirs my frame, 
 And fhivers thro each vein What fhapes are thefe, 
 Athwart the gloom, that frrike my dazled fenfe I 
 Betwixt and where yon mift along the marfh 
 Howls blue it's vapoury wave, fome unfeen hand 
 Pourtrays in air the vifionary fcene 
 Diflint and full, in brighter colors drawn 
 Than fummer funs reflect on evening cloud, 
 When all it's fluid bofom slows with gold 
 And now, it reddens into blood ! 
 
 Hermit, who bad 
 oljerved him fixedly, half -a fide. 
 Ere night 
 Withdraws her fhade, new accidents and ftrange 
 Will fhakc this ifland's peace. 
 
 [To him. 
 
 Now, Alfred, now, 
 Be all the here fJhcwn. 
 
 Alfred. 
 What mav this mean ? 
 
 SCENE
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 31 
 
 ^^^^**^^^*^***^^^^*^- 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Alfred, Coiun. 
 
 Cor in, kneeling. 
 My honor'd fovereign 
 
 Alfred. 
 How is this ! ha ! what ! 
 Difcover'd by this peafant Be it (o : 
 The plain man is moft loyal. 
 
 Corin. 
 
 England's wealth, 
 The pearly ftores her circling Teas contain, 
 Should never fhake your Corin's faith 
 Alfred, 
 
 But what 
 Alarms thee thus ? 
 
 Corin. 
 My fears are for my king. 
 Some ftrangers, Sir their habits fpeak them Danes- 
 Have found our ifle. Look this way. 
 
 Alfred.
 
 32 ALFRED: 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Re of courage. 
 Now, I perceive them. Thro the evening made 
 Their armor gleams a faint and moving light. 
 Weft ward they turn, and ftrike into the path 
 That opens on this plain. Retire we, fhepherd, 
 Behind yon dufky elm j from whence, unfeen, 
 
 We may difcern their numbers and their purpofe. 
 
 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Danes pajfing along. 
 
 Firjl Dane. 
 No more. 'Twas fhe : I could not be deceiv'd. 
 A lover's eye is as the eagle's (harp, 
 And kens his prey from far But lift a while, 
 If found of human voice, or bleat of flocks 
 May guide our loft enquiry thro this wild. 
 
 Second Dane. 
 No : all is lonelinefs around, and hufh'd 
 As our dead northern wa 'cs at midnight hour. 
 Our gods protect us ! Prince, it was moft rain, 
 So few our numbers, at this clofe of day 
 Headlong to plunge amid there horrid {hades, 
 Where danger lurks unfeen. 
 
 Firjt
 
 A MAS QJJ E. 33 
 
 Firjl Dane. 
 
 How ! know'ft thou not 
 That England is no more ? Her fons of war, 
 To dens and caverns fled, like fearful hares 
 Sit trembling at each blaft the chill wind blows. 
 Her kinghimfelf or fleeps in duft, or roams 
 Wild on the pathlefs mountain. As for me ; 
 Our country gods, thofe fpirits that pofiefs 
 The boundlefs wildernefs, that love to dwell 
 With dreary folitude and night profound, 
 Will guard the fon of Ivar, to whofe houfe 
 Their vaflalage is bound by magic fpell. 
 Come on. She muft be found, this unknown fair 
 Who fir'd me at firft view; and rages ftill 
 A fever in my youthful blood. Away. 
 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Alfred, Cor in, advancing. 
 
 Cor in. 
 They are but three. 
 
 Alfred. 
 And were that number trebled, 
 This ifland is their grave - f this facred fpot, 
 
 F Fair
 
 34 ALFRED: 
 
 Fair freedom's laft retreat. We mutt, we will 
 Preferve it, all-inviolate and holy, 
 From impious infidels : or, with our blood, 
 If now we perifh, fanclify it's earth 
 For after- times to vifit and revere. 
 Corin. 
 Lift, lift, my lord - 
 
 Alfred. 
 What noife was that ? By heaven, 
 The fhrieks of women ! Now, ftern vengeance guide 
 The fword we draw. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 E m M A , and other -pea/ants, 
 
 Emma. 
 All, whither fhall we fly ? 
 Immortal virgin ! queen of mercy ! fave us 
 See, fee, my friends, they feize the lovely ftranger- 
 They bear her off Behold the king appears 
 My hufband too Now, heaven, defend alike 
 The mighty and the mean, the prince and peafant ! 
 Two of them fall beneath our monarch's arm 
 The third, my Corin ( ) I dare no more 
 Look that way Yet I muft The third is flain f 
 O gallant ftupherd ! O moft happy hour ! 
 
 SCENE
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 
 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Alfred, Corin, 
 
 fupporting the lady, 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 This way, brave fhepherd, from thefe clofer (hacks 
 
 Here the free air and breezy glade will roufe 
 
 Her fainting fpirits So Who may me be ? 
 
 Perhaps, fome worthy heart at this fad moment 
 
 Akes for her fafety. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 Save me, fave me, heaven ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Ye powers ! what do I hear? Yes yes 'tis me ! 
 
 My wife, my queen ! the treafure of my foul ! 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 My Alfred ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 My Eltruda ! 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 Can it be ? 
 
 Or is it all th' illufion of my fear ? 
 
 O no : 'tis he my lord ! my life ! my hufband ! 
 
 My guardian angel Alfred, 
 
 F 2 Alfred..
 
 3 6 ALFRED: 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 My Eltruda \ 
 Black horror chills me while I view the brink, 
 The dreadful precipice, on which we ftood 
 And wa;, it thee I refcu'd from thefe ruffians 
 
 Providence amazing ! thee, Eltruda ! 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 1 tremble ftill ! from worfe than death deliver'd ! 
 And am I then fecure in Alfred's arms ? 
 
 ALFREr. 
 
 There let me hold thee ; lull thy fears to reft : 
 There hum thy foul with everlafting fondnefs. 
 The panting bird fo flutters, juft efcap'd 
 The fowler's fnare. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 My heart, my heart is fulj-*- 
 And mull o'erflow in tears. A thoufand thoughts 
 Are bufy here That ever we fhould meet 
 h\ fuch a dire extremity ! Ah me! 
 That ever Alfred's family and children 
 Should need the flielter of his fingle arm ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 My children ! where, where are they ? 
 Eltruda. 
 
 Turn thine eyes 
 To yonder cottage: there conceaPd 
 Alfred. 
 
 My Corik, 
 i : \\') bring them to my arms. But fay, my love, 
 \ \ hi didft thou leave the convent, where I plac'd thee ? 
 
 Why,
 
 A MAS QJJ E. zt 
 
 Why, unprotected, truft thee to a land, 
 A barbarous land, where violence inhabits ? 
 Our hofpitable England is no more. 
 Eltruda. 
 Alas ! my Alfred, even the peaceful cells, 
 Where fafe beneath religion's holy veil 
 Her cloifter'd votaries dwelt, from impious Dams 
 No reverence claim. The villages around, 
 Difpers'd and flying wild before their arms, 
 Inform'd' us, a near party, on whofe courfe 
 Deftruc~tion waits, were marching full to us. 
 Inftant I fled. wo faithful fervants bore 
 Our childre? jfF: and heaven has fav'd us all ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 O welcome to my foul ! O happy Alfred 1 
 Thus to have reicu'd what the feeling heart 
 Moft dear and precious holds, from men who war 
 With earth and heaven. 
 
 Eltruda: 
 Tho terrible at firft, 
 Bleft be the tempeft that has driven me hither. 
 Into this fafe, this facred harbor ! 
 Alfred. 
 
 Come, 
 O come, and here repofe thee from the ftorm, 
 Within thefe fheltering arms. 
 
 Eltruda, holding him off. 
 
 Yet let me view thee 
 My king and hufband do I find thee thus ? 
 [falling into his arms. 
 
 Unknown !
 
 3 S ALFRED: 
 
 Unknown ! unferv'd ! unhonor'd ! none to tend thee ! 
 
 To foothe thy woes, to watch thy broken flumbers, 
 
 With every fonder fervice, pious love 
 
 Beft knows to pay ! There is in love a power, 
 
 There is a foft divinity that draws, 
 
 Even from diftrefs, thofe tranfports that delight 
 
 The breaft they pain, and it's beft powers exalt 
 
 Above all tafte of joys from vulgar life ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 O 'tis too much thou all that makes life glorious ! 
 Nay look not on me with this fweet dejection j 
 Thro tears that pierce the foul 
 
 My children too ! 
 My little ones ! Come to your fire's embrace : 
 'Tis all he can beftow -In them behold 
 What human grandeur is The peafant's offspring 
 Have fome retreat, fome fafe, tho lowly home : 
 But you, my babes, you have no habitation ! 
 With pain and peril wandering thro a land, 
 A ruin'd country you were born to rule ! 
 The thought unmans my reafon. 
 
 SCENE
 
 MAS QJJ E. $9 
 
 ^^^^^^^^Nif^<4r<ls <^\r 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Alfred, Eltruda, Hermit. 
 
 Hermit. 
 
 I have heard 
 Thy fond complainings, Alfred. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 You have then, 
 Good father, heard the caufe that wrings them from me. 
 
 Hermit. 
 The human race are fons of forrow born : 
 And each muft have his portion. Vulgar minds 
 Refufe, or crouch beneath their load : the brave 
 Bear theirs without repining. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Who can bear 
 The (haft that wounds him thro an infant's fide ? 
 When whom we love, to whom we owe protection. 
 Implore the hand we cannot reach to fave them. 
 
 Hermit. 
 Weep not, Eltruda. Yet, thou art a king; 
 All private paflioos fall before that name. 
 Thy fubjecti claim thee whole. 
 
 i A I. F r e d
 
 4 ^ ALFRED; 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Can public truft, 
 O reverend fage ! deflroy the fofter ties 
 That twine around the parent's yearning heart ? 
 This holy paflion heaven itfelf infus'd, 
 And blended with the ftream that feeds our life. 
 All nature feels it intimate and deep, 
 And all her fons of inftindt and of reafon. 
 
 Hermit. 
 Then fhew that paflion in it's nobleft form. 
 Think what a tafk it is, to rear thofe minds, 
 On whom the fate of millions, general blifs, 
 Or univerfal mifcry, depends. 
 
 Alfred. 
 That tafk then, difficult alike and noble, 
 Be thine, O facred fage ; to whofe try'd wifdom 
 I, henceforth, folely truft their tender years. 
 Let truth and virtue be their earlieft teachers. 
 Keep from their ear the fyren-voice of flattery; 
 Keep from their eye the harlot-form of vice, 
 "Who fpread, in every court, their filken fnares, 
 And charm but to betray. Betimes inftruct them, 
 Superior rank demands fuperior worth ; 
 Pre-eminence of valor, juftice, mercy : 
 But chief, that tho exalted o'er mankind, 
 They are themfelves but men frail fuffrring dufl; ; 
 From no one injury of human lot 
 Exempt : but fever'd by the fame heat, chill'd 
 By the fame cold, torn by the fame difeafe, 
 That feorches, freezes racks, and kills the beggar. 
 
 Should
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 4 i 
 
 Should fairer days, returning, fmile agaia 
 On England and on me 
 
 Ha ! Edwin here ? 
 This way, my friend fpeak foftly 
 
 Edwin whifpers the king afide. 
 
 Plow ! 'tis well ! 
 Back to thy poft : I follow on the inflant 
 Yet flay Behold my queen, and infant-fons ! 
 Edwin thy king's whole wealth is there fumm'd up ! 
 Nay, wipe thine eyes : and tell my gallant friends 
 What thou haft feen. The tale will lend new force 
 To each man's arm, and with redoubled weight 
 Urge every well-aim'd blow. Hence ! fpeed thee well. 
 Eltruda we rauft part 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 What do I hear l 
 My life, my love 
 
 Alfred. 
 Part for a few fad moments, 
 That our next meeting may be long and happy. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 What leave me now ? O my prefaging heart ! 
 Already leave me ! 'Tis the dreadful call 
 Of glory, fomewhat perilously great, 
 And big with urgent hafte, that tears thee from me. 
 Oh Alfred 
 
 Alfred. 
 No fond weaknefs now be {hewn, 
 Eltruda, no diftruft of virtue's fate. 
 Thou and thy children are, at prefent, fafe 
 
 G
 
 42 
 
 ALFRED 
 
 In this wife Hermit's care. For what remains ; 
 My caufe is juft, my fortune in His hand 
 Who reigns fupremc, almighty and all-good. 
 
 * That Power who ftills the raging of the main. 
 The rage of all our foes can render vain. 
 To his unerring will refign'd fmcere, 
 I fear that God, and know no other fear \ 
 
 End of the Second ASL 
 
 * Tranflated from Racine's Athalie. 
 
 Celui, qui met un frein a la fureur des flots, 
 Sjait aufli des medians arrefter les complots. 
 Soumis avec refpeft a fa volonte fainte, 
 Je crams Dieu, cher Abner, & n'ay point d' autre crainte 
 
 \ C T
 
 A MAS QJJ E. 
 
 43 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Emma, and other Jhephrdejfes. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 YE S, Edith, we will watch, till morning fhines, 
 Around this cottage, now made rich and glorious- 
 Who durft have thought fuch wonders ? by a queen 5 
 And her bright offspring ! Thou, mean while, invoke, 
 With founds of foothing drain, the gentle fleep 
 To pour his timely vapours on their eye-lids. 
 
 G 2 
 
 Edith
 
 44 ALFRED: 
 
 Edith Jmgs. 
 
 I. 
 
 In cooling flream, O fweei repofe, 
 
 Tloofe balmy dews dijlill, 
 That Jleal the mourner from his woes y 
 
 And bid defpair bejlill. 
 
 II. 
 
 Prolong the fmiling infant's reft, 
 Who yet no for row knozvs : 
 
 But O the mother's bleeding brea/f 
 To foftcjl peace compofe f 
 
 III. 
 
 For her the fair ejl dreams adorn. 
 That wave on fancy's wing; 
 
 The purple of afcending morn, 
 Th.c bloom of opening fpring, 
 
 IV. 
 
 Let all-, that foothes the foul or charm-, 
 Her midnight hour employ 9 
 
 Till blefl again in Alfred' j arms, 
 She wakes to rial joy. 
 
 Emma
 
 A MAS QJJ E. 45 
 
 Emma. 
 Alas ! fhe comes. Let us withdraw, my friends. 
 Her forrows claim all reverence : and 'tis meet 
 We leave her to herfelf. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 Amid the depth of this furrounding gloom, 
 While nature all is hufh'd, Eltruda wakes 
 To think and to be wretched. Oh my love ! 
 My heart's fole reft and refuge ! Where is he ! 
 Victor or vanquifh'd what is now his fate ? 
 Moments of terror Ha ! what noife was that ? 
 Each found appalls me, and each thought is death ! 
 'Twas more than fancy fure : it feem'd the groan 
 Of bleeding men O every guardian wing 
 Of faints and angels fhield him ! from his breaft 
 Turn wide the flying fhaft, the lifted fteel, 
 And, fheltering him, a ruin'd nation favc. 
 Who comes ? Speak, quickly fpeak, 
 
 SCENTS
 
 46 ALFRED: 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Ertruda, an Attendant. 
 
 Attendant. 
 
 My gracious miftrefsj, 
 
 Why to the breath of this untimely fky 
 Expofe your health ? 
 
 Ertruda. 
 
 Away the health, the life 
 Of England is at ftake : my Alfred fights 
 Perhaps he bleeds : and I am loft for ever ! 
 But is there none, no mefTenger return'd 
 From that dark fcene of death ? 
 
 Attendant. 
 
 No, madam, nonei 
 
 Eltruda. 
 O my torn, tortur'd heart ! What is the hour ? 
 
 Attendant. 
 By yon faint light, that glimmering fteals along 
 From eavt to north, I guefs the morning near.' 
 
 Eltruda.
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 47 
 
 Eltruda. 
 Then all my hopes and fears fufpended hang 
 On this dread moment's wing Ah ! hear'ft thou not 
 The trumpet's diftant voice ? 
 
 Attendant. 
 
 It fpeaks aloud, 
 And makes the echoing woods. 
 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Eltruda, Attendant, Emma, and others. 
 
 Emma. 
 
 O mighty queen, 
 
 They come, the murderers come. Protect us, heaven, 
 
 [kneeling. 
 Our hufbands, and our infants, from their rage. 
 
 Without thine aid we perifh. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 O my foul ! 
 
 Why what a fight is this ? A tyrant's eye 
 
 Might melt with pity o'er it. Thou fupreme, 
 
 [kneeling. 
 All-ruling arbiter of human fate ! 
 
 Whofe univerfal family is nature. 
 
 On
 
 4 S ALFRED: 
 
 On Alfred, on his children, on his people, 
 Look down with mercy for their caufe is thine, 
 And now, even now, deciding ! 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Hermit, Eltruda, and others. 
 
 Hermit. 
 
 Glorious princefs ! 
 This is indeed to reign. Comfort, great queen : 
 It comes, it comes ! the promis'd fcene difclofes ! 
 I fee the Danijh raven droop his wing ! 
 See England's genius foar again to heaven, 
 And better days in white fucceffion roll, 
 Without a cloud between ! 
 
 The clouds break away ; and on the edge of a rock, in 
 full view, afpirit isfeen amidjl a blaze of light, 
 who fings the folloiving 
 
 ODE.
 
 A M A S'QJJ E. 49 
 
 ODE. 
 
 From thofe eternal regions bright , 
 Where funs that never Jet in night, 
 
 Dijfufe the golden day ; 
 Where fpring, unfading, pours around, 
 O'er all the dew-impearled ground, 
 
 Her thoufand colons gay , 
 'the meffenger of heaven's high King, 
 I come ; and happy tidings bring, 
 
 To chear this drooping ifle : 
 Behold her cruel foes are fed! 
 Behold fair freedom lifts the head, 
 
 And all his children fmile ! 
 The dawn, that noiv unveils her fkies, 
 See England's future glory rife : 
 
 A better age is born I 
 Then, let each voice of fprightly Jlrain, 
 Around from warbling hill and plain, 
 
 Hail this triumphant morn ! 
 
 Grand Chorus. 
 Then let each voice of fprightly fir anu 
 Around from warbling hill and plain, 
 Hail this triumphant morn ! 
 
 H S C E N E
 
 fo ALFRED: 
 
 M9M9M$M9MM^MMM9MMl 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Eltruda, Hermit, Barl of Devon. 
 
 Devon, kneeling. 
 Succefs is ours 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 The king, my lord 
 
 Devon. 
 
 Returns, 
 Victorious and unhurt. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 Then, firft, to heaven, 
 For this befr, news I humbly bend the knee 
 In grateful adoration. Now proceed, 
 My lord ; and leave no circumftance untold 
 Of this amazing night. 
 
 Devon. 
 Her mifty fhadc 
 Had now enclos'd us round ; when, led fecure 
 By Edwin's eye, the darker! depth I reach'd 
 Of Kinivitb-wood. We parted. He, in hafle, 
 Back to his charge. I thro the cavern'd path, 
 Whofe inlet there is found, defcending dark, 
 Long, under ground, it's folitary maze 
 
 Purfu'd
 
 1MAS QJJ E. 51 
 
 Purfu'd as beft I could ; and rofe at length 
 Safe in the fort our foes had clofe begirt. 
 'Twas joy, 'twas rapture there, among the few 
 Who wifh'd, not hop'd, my unforefeen return. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 What fbllow'd this, my lord ? 
 
 Devon. 
 
 Prepare, I cry'd, 
 To live or die like men. Our king furvives ; 
 And, now in arms, expects your inilant a : .l 
 To him then let us cut our glorious way 
 Thro yonder camp : or, if we nobly fall, 
 There offer to the genius of our country 
 Whole hecatombs of Danes. As if one foul 
 Had mov'd them all, around their heads they whirl'd 
 Their founding faulchions " Lead us to thofe Danes : 
 Revenge and England?" was the general cry. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 I feel it here : my heart applauds their virtue. 
 How was this follow' d on ? 
 
 Devon. 
 
 To fouls refoiv'd 
 Small preparation needs The clock {truck three 
 At once our gates flew wide : at once we rufh'd 
 Prone on the Danijb trenches While behind, 
 Jufttothe fatal inilant, Alfred rofe 
 In all his terrors ; o'er the mounded camp 
 Tempeftuous drove ; from fpace to fpace along 
 Spred Slaughter zv.d difrnay. Nor reft, nor paufe : 
 Back'd by his ardent band, right on he bore 
 F<vcn to the tent, where funk in fieep profound 
 
 II 2 The
 
 $z ALFRED: 
 
 The Danifh monarch lay. His guards, a few 
 Whom honor prompted to defend their prince, 
 Fell round him. He yet lives : but, O dire chance 
 Of cruel war! a prifoner and in chains. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 A fall how terrible ! My breaft is thrill'd, 
 And in the fierce barbarian mourns the captive. 
 
 Hermit. 
 Such fortune ever wait on wild ambition ! 
 On war unjuft that defolates whole nations, 
 And leaves a world in tears for one man's guilt ! 
 But yet fallen as he is he knows not yet 
 What new diftrefs, what keener pangs attend 
 To wound his inmoft heart That trumpet fpeaks 
 The king's approach Ye minifters unfeen ! 
 
 Spirits, ivhom the King of kings 
 Gives to watch o'er human things, 
 Hither, from each blefi abode : 
 From the morning's purple road; 
 From the folar world of light ; 
 From the planet of the night ; 
 From the rainbow's evening-round ; 
 From the blue horizon's bound ; 
 Hither, borne thro fcas of air, 
 Sons of life and love repair / 
 And 7ioiv, with all that charms the eye. 
 This monarch's triumph dignify. 
 
 SCENE
 
 A M AS QJJ E. $3 
 
 ^^y^^^^^f'^^^^^r^r^r 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 To a grand flourifi of inflruments the fcene, gradually 
 opening, dij covers fever al triumphal arches, adorned 
 with trophies and garlands, and from /pace to f pact 
 beautifully illuminated. 'The procejjion is led by Jhep- 
 bcrdejfcs, flrewing flowers. 
 
 Firfl Shepherdess. 
 
 Arife, fwect meffenger of morn, 
 With thy mild beam our skies adorn : 
 For long as fiepberds pipe and play, 
 This, thisjhall be a holy-day. 
 
 Second Shepherdess, 
 
 See, ?norn appears ; a rojy hue 
 Steals f oft o y er yonder orient blue : 
 Soon let us meet in trim array, 
 And frolic out this holy-day ! 
 
 Tbefe
 
 54 ALFRED: 
 
 Tljefe are followed by foldiers with palm branches in 
 their hands. An officer behind bears the Danifh 
 Jiandard. Flourijh of injlruments. 
 
 Firjl Voice. 
 Swell the trumpet's boldejl mte ! 
 
 Second Voice. 
 Let the drum it's thunders roll ! 
 
 Both. 
 
 And, as on aery wings they float, 
 
 Spread Alfred'* name from pole to pole / 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Our fons unborn. 
 
 Still on this mom 
 JVith annual joy Jhall tell; 
 
 How by his might, 
 
 In daring fight, 
 The fees o/"Eng;land fell. 
 
 Air
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 55 
 
 Air. 
 
 Prince, of every fame poffejl ! 
 
 Prince and patriot both confejl ! 
 Thy grateful Albion Jhall to lateji days 
 Roll down thy glories in a tide of praife J 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Thy grateful Albion Jhall to lateji days * 
 Roll down thy glories in a tide of praife I 
 
 Eltruda.
 
 56 ALFRED: 
 
 Eltruda. 
 Yon pi&ur'd raven tell me is it not 
 Their wonderous magic ftandard ! 
 Devon. 
 
 'Tis the fame : 
 Wrought by the Afters of the Danijh king, 
 At midnight's blackefl hour \ when the fick moon, 
 Wrapt in eclipfe by their enchanting fong, 
 Down thro fhe turbid clouds her influence fhed 
 Of baleful power. The fifters ever fung 
 Shake, flandard, make deftru&ion on our foes." 
 
 \mmmmmmmmmm 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Eltruda, Hermit, and the others. 
 
 Alfred faffing under the triumphal arches : The fun, 
 at the fame time, r'tfing above the horizon. 
 
 Eltruda. 
 
 He comes ! the conqueror comes 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 In thefe lov'd arms 
 To lofe all forrow, and all blifs to find ! 
 
 Eltruda,
 
 A M A S Q_U E. j 7 
 
 Eltruda. 
 D from what fears deliver'd for thy life, 
 And in that life for a whole people's being, 
 I thus receive thee back ! thus fold thee fafe ! 
 Love only, love like mine, can feel, not utter ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 To Him afcend all praife ! whofe will infpir'd, 
 Whofe arm fuftain'd this a&ionj that reftores 
 My better name and, O more glorious ftill, 
 Of nobler, dearer confequence ! reftores 
 Loft England to her vigor, fame and freeddim 
 
 Hermit, 
 For her, O Alfred, your more arduous task 
 But now begins : this conqueft to fecure ; 
 To fpread it's influence wide, and, well improv'd 
 By unremitting vigilance and valor, 
 Make this one blow decinve of her fate. 
 But now behold, to animate thy hope^ 
 In myftic mew exprefs'd what late thy fortune 
 Seem'd to portend ; and what the brightening fcene 
 With fairer promife opens. 
 
 Tour
 
 58 A L K * V : 
 
 Four Furies arife, to the found of inflrutnents in dif- 
 cord, at four different openings from under ground, 
 with torches in their left hands, and bloody fwords 
 in their right. They form a confufed Pyrrhic dance, ' 
 
 fl)aking and pointing their fwords and torches round 
 the king in their centre : till, upon a change of the 
 muftc into regular harmony, defends the Genius 
 of England, with a crowned fword in one hand, 
 and a lawrel wreathe in the other. On fight of whom 
 the four Furies fink thro the openings they arofe 
 
 from. He prefents the crowned fword and lawrel- 
 branch at the feet of the king, and reafcends, while 
 the following fong isfung* 
 
 At lajl, at la/7, 
 
 Our night is pajl, 
 The gloomy night of fear : 
 
 And o'er our fkies 
 
 Fair beams arife 
 Of peace and joy fmcere. 
 Then let triumph abound! 
 
 Let ecflacy reign ! 
 Till thefe hills all around, around 
 Improving eachjlrain, 
 Our tranf ports refund ; refund 
 The heart -felt tranfport that fucceeds to pain ! 
 
 AtFREBi
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 59 
 
 Alfred. 
 I hail th' aufpicious omen but ah me! 
 Eltruda, fee, where comes th' unhappy king j 
 
 Eltruda. 
 Oh fight of woe ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 Retire, my gentle love : 
 An interview like this were too fevere 
 For thy foft nature. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Alfred, Hermit, Danish King. 
 
 Al Fred, after a paufe. 
 See, at laft, O king, 
 In thy fad fate, which even a foe laments, 
 See and acknowledge heaven's impartial hand. 
 For violated oaths and plunder'd realms, 
 For the heap'd guilt of bafe perfidious war, 
 This retribution is moft juft. 
 
 I 2 DaUE,
 
 6o ALFRED; 
 
 Dane. 
 
 Away 
 I own no guilt : ( or kings of every age 
 Are criminal, thy anceftors and mine. 
 What is all war, but more diffufive robbery 
 Made facred by fuccefs ? What object fwells 
 A monarch's higheft aim ? increafe of power 
 And univerfal fway. This glorious end 
 All means muft fanctify, that can fecure. 
 
 For what remains Of bondage, or of death, 
 The lefler ill, I reck not. But, by Thor, 
 The gloomy thunderer ! one diftra&ing thought 
 Bends my foul's ftrongeft temper ; finks me down 
 Beneath my own contempt. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Such fears difmifs 
 As muft difhonor both. The truly brave 
 His foe in equal arms will dare to meet : 
 Vanquifh'd, he dares not injure, nor infult him. 
 
 Dane. 
 Nor that, nor ought without myfelf could thus 
 Unman me. No : my hell is here, within 
 How ! like a wretch, a namelefs fl?cve who fights 
 But for vile hire in my own tent furpris'd ! 
 Afleep ! unarm'd ! thefe fhameful chains thrown o'er me, 
 And not one blow exchang'cl ! O bafer far 
 Than that low herd, who fled without a wound 
 Before thy fword. They but deferted him, 
 Who firft himfelf abandon'd But thy gods 
 Were vigilant for thee : while mine all flcpt. 
 
 3 Alfjis.2v
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 61 
 
 Alfred. 
 Your gods are idols : that fole Power I ferve. 
 Supreme and one, is univerfal Lord 
 O'er earth and heaven. Be it my daily taflt, 
 As 'tis my nobleft theme, to own, by Him 
 Alone I Conqaer'd : as for him alone 
 I wifh to reign by making mankind bleft ! 
 
 Dane. 
 No more Convey me to your bafeft dungeon. 
 Let me explore it's darkeft depth ; Ihut out 
 The light of heaven ; forget there is a fun 
 Who fhines on my cjifhonor. Would I might 
 Exclude too my own thoughts But yet, my fon 
 Lives and is free ! lives to revenge my fall ! 
 To wafh my ftains in blood Ha ! where was he 
 This fatal night, when every god forfook me ! 
 Where, where was Ivar then ? 
 
 Hermit. 
 
 Unhappy prince ! 
 
 That fon, alas ! 
 
 What of my fon 
 
 Dane. 
 
 Ha ! what ! why, who art thou ? 
 
 Hermit. 
 Thy truft in him is vain. 
 To his own rafhnefs and intemperate luft, 
 This very night, a victim, here, he fell 
 Lp ! where he lies. 
 
 Dane.
 
 62 ALFRED: 
 
 Dane. 
 
 My fon my fon Ha ! dead 
 My only child! But no : 1 will not weep. 
 Is he not fafe, beyond misfortune's hand ? 
 Beyond all feeling of his father's fhame ? 
 Falfe hope, farewell! Let madnefs, let defpair 
 Surround me, feize me whole ; till life's loath'd flame, 
 For ever quench'd in death, refigns me o'er 
 To darknefs and oblivion. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Dire reverfe ! 
 Dreadful impatience ! But thefe roving Danes 
 A ftricter watch demand. Means more effe&ual 
 Muft now be try'd, from our infulted mores 
 To keep aloof this ftill-defcending war. 
 'Tis naval ftrength, that muft our peace afTure. 
 Be this the firft high object of my care, 
 To wall us round with well-appointed fleets. 
 In them our fole dominion of the fea, 
 Our wealth and grandeur, can alone be found, 
 The one great bulwark of our feparate world. 
 
 Hermit. 
 Alfred, go on ; the noble taik purfue, 
 Thy fafety urges, and thy fame demands. 
 Yes, in her fleets, let England ever feek 
 Her fure defence : by them, thro every age, 
 At home fecure, renown'd and fear'd abroad, 
 Great arbitrefs of nations Ha ! the fcene, 
 The radiant profpecl: opens full before me ! 
 Thro diftant depths of time tranfported down, 
 
 The
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 63 
 
 I fee whole moving forefts, from her hills 
 Uprooted, bound triumphant o'er the main ! 
 White tracks of glory brighten Albion's fkies, 
 As navies grow, as commerce fwells her fail 
 With every breeze that under heaven can blow, 
 From either pole j thro worlds yet unexplor'd, 
 In eaft and weft, that to thy fons difclofe 
 Their golden ftores, their wealth of various name, 
 And laviih pour it on Britannia's lap ! 
 
 Alfred. 
 Thy words new fun-fhine thro my breaft diffufe, 
 And fmiling calm. But let us, Hermit, try, 
 By juftice, mercy, arms and arts improv'd, 
 By freedom fenc'd around with facred laws, 
 Our promis'd blifs to merit and adorn. 
 Now, to my glorious ta& 
 
 Hermit. 
 
 Yet ere you go, 
 One moment, Alfred, backward caft your eyes 
 On this unfolding fcene ; where, pictur'd true, 
 As in a mirror, rifes fair to fight 
 Our England's genuine ftrength and future fame. 
 
 Here is feen the ocean in profpecl, and Jhips failing 
 
 along. Two boats land their crews. O tie fa i lor 
 fjngs the following Ode : after which, the rejl join 
 in a lively dance. 
 
 I. When
 
 tf f ALFRED: 
 
 I. 
 
 tVhen Britain firji at heaven's command, 
 
 Aroje from out the azure main ; 
 
 This was the charter of the land, 
 
 And guardian angels fung this flraih : 
 
 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves: 
 Britons never will be Jlaves. 
 
 II. 
 
 Tlie nationsi not Jo blejl as thee, 
 Muji in their turns to tyrants fall : 
 While thou Jhalt fourijh great and free t 
 The dread and envy of them all. 
 
 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves : 
 Britons never will be Jlaves* 
 
 * 
 
 III. 
 
 Should war, Jhould faclion jhake thy ijle, 
 
 And fink to poverty andjhame ; 
 
 Heaven ft 'ill ' Jball on Britannia fmile, 
 
 Re/lore her wealth, and raife her name. 
 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves : 
 Britons never will be Jlaves* 
 
 IV. As
 
 A M A S QJJ E. 6 S 
 
 IV. 
 
 As the loud blajl, that tears thyfkies, 
 Serves but to root thy native oak \ 
 Still more majejlic Jhalt thou rife, 
 From foreign, from dome/lie Jlroke. 
 
 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves : 
 
 Britons never will be faves. 
 
 V. 
 
 How blejl the prince, referv'd by fate, 
 In adverfe days to mount thy throne ! 
 Renew thy once triumphant flat 'e, 
 And on thy grandeur build his own ! 
 
 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves : 
 
 Britons never iv; 11 be faves. 
 
 VI. 
 
 His race Jhall long, in times to come, 
 So heaven ordains, thy fceptre wield, 
 Rever'd abroad, belov'd at home, 
 And be, at once, thy fword and Jlveld. 
 
 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves : 
 
 Britons never ivill be faves. 
 
 'The End cf the Mafque. 
 
 K E P I-
 
 1 67 ] 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Spoken by Mrs. CL I VE. 
 
 TJTT'Hile our grave Hermit, bufy above fair s^ 
 * * Employs his ferious head on J! ate affairs* 
 Gallants, look here faith I have plaid the rogue, 
 Andfole his zcandby way of epilogue. 
 You critics, there below, had bcjl be civil : 
 For I, with this fame rod, can play the d< 
 
 wvil 
 
 Ty all your bufy tongues up, one by one, 
 
 And turn zvhat Jharc of brains you have to ft 'one : 
 
 The beaii s foft full convert to folid rock 
 
 What then ?the wig will always have it's block. 
 
 But for the men cf fad and folemn face, 
 
 The deep dark f ages in or out of place, 
 
 Who much in port and politics delight, 
 
 Small change, God knows, will make them JIatues quit 
 
 The ladies too but nciv thefe witlings fnecr 
 
 No, fair ones, you jhall meet no infult here . 
 J only hint my pozuer that, if I liji, 
 I yet can charm you two long hours fro nwhijL 
 But, catch arc ready, you are allbefpoke 
 Tofpoil a dozen drum.', would be no /eke. 
 Befdes, 'tzuould be mere arbitrary fwey : 
 Such as, of old, v:as us' J at Nero'j play, 
 
 K i
 
 [ 68 ] 
 
 IVIjq, when be fung and fiddled to the town., 
 Still, as bis fubjecls yawiid, would knock them down. 
 No, firs \ to gain a heart, we muji not teize: 
 Who would engage it, firjl Jhould aim to pleafe. 
 This part be mine: and, if I now fucceed 
 To my own wijh, you will be pleas'' 'd indeed. 
 Then for a trial : thus, I wave my hand, 
 To prove the power of this inchanting wand. 
 
 On waving her wand, 
 The fcene opens, and dif covers a beautiful valley, bordered 
 on each hand by forejl trees, rifing irregularly, and form- 
 ing from fpace to fpace various groves. The profpeil 
 behind is a landf chape of woodlands, and of mountains 
 that afcend above one another, till the lafl feem to lofe 
 them] 'elves in the Jky. From the fummit of the neareji 
 bill a river pours down, by fever al falls, in a natural 
 cafcade. The warbling of birds is heard. 
 
 First
 
 169 1 
 
 First Entry. 
 A husbandman, his wife, andfarnily. 
 
 She. 
 How f oft is thefcene f \ 
 The woodlands how green I 
 IVhat charms in the nightingale's lay ! 
 He. 
 Fair peace, that now reigns 
 On our hills and our plains, 
 3 Tis peace bids all nature be gay. 
 
 Chorus. 
 '21V peace bids all nature be gay. 
 She. 
 The diflaff, 
 
 He. 
 
 The plow, 
 Both. 
 Shall employ our hands -now, 
 For ourfelves and our children alone. 
 He. 
 Secure from the fee, 
 We Jhall reap what wc foiv : 
 And the year, the whole year is our own f 
 
 Chorus. 
 And the year, the xvhele year is our own. 
 
 St*
 
 1 70*3 
 
 She waves her wand. Second Entry. 
 
 A JhepJjerdy and Jhepherdefs. 
 
 They run into each others arms. 
 
 She. 
 If to meet Is all this pkafure, 
 Sure, to part was tilling pain / 
 
 Both. 
 Yes, to part was killing pain ! 
 
 He. 
 If 'tivas grief to lofe our treafure, 
 How tranfporting to regain / 
 
 Both. 
 O 'tis tranfport to regain f 
 
 He. 
 Thus pojpjjing 
 
 She. 
 every blejftng 
 Crowns the maid 
 
 He. 
 
 And crozvns her fivain. 
 Both. 
 Croiuns the happy maid and fivain f 
 
 Sin
 
 [7i ] 
 
 She waves her wand. Third Entry. 
 
 Soldiers defend the mountain by two different paths : at the bot- 
 tom they lay down the fpoils with which they are loaded; and 
 then, advancing, two of themfing the following ballad. 
 
 First Man. 
 We have fought; we have conquer' 'd : and 'England once more 
 Shall fiourijh in fame, as Jhe fiourijh" d before. 
 Our fears are all fed, with our enemies fain : 
 
 * Could they rife up anew 
 
 Second. 
 We would fay them again. 
 His monarch to fcrve, or to do himfelf right, 
 No Englifhmanjtf/ ever finch' d from the fight. 
 For why, neighbours all, we are free as the king ; 
 
 * "Tis this ?nakes us brave 
 
 First. 
 
 And 'tis this makes usfing. 
 Our prince too, for this, will be thankful to fate 
 It is, in our freedom, he finds himfelf great ! 
 No force can be wanting, nor ?neaner court-arts : 
 
 * He is majler of all 
 
 Second. 
 
 Who will reign in our hearts / 
 Should rebels within, or Jhould foes from zuithout, 
 Bring the crown on his head, or his honor, in doubt ; 
 
 * The verfes marked with an 
 afterifk to be fung a fecond time by both. 
 
 m
 
 [72.1% 
 
 We are ready 
 
 First. ^ 
 
 Still ready and boldly foretell, ' ^ 
 
 * That conquejt Jhall ever with liberty dwell f j 
 
 Second: 
 But now, bring us forth, as the crown of our labor, 
 Much wine and good chcar- 
 
 First, 
 
 With the pipe and the tabor. 
 Let our nymphs all be kind, and our Jhepherds be gay ; 
 For England, Old England, is happy to day. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Let our nymphs all be kind, and our Jhepherds be gay ; 
 For England, Old England, is happy to day f 
 
 They all mix in a dance, 
 to the pipe and tabor, . 
 
 The End. 
 
 
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 REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILrrV 
 
 
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