943 Dll9 (815 UC-NRLF B 3 57b 7i45 IN A, A TRAGEDY; IN FIVE ACTS. BY MRS. WILMOT. Stcontr IStrittott. LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, istd. PERSONS of the DRAMA. I US' Cenulph, King of Wessex . . Mr. Pope. Egbert, his Son Mr. Kean, Alwyn, Egbert's Friend . . . Mr. J. Wallack. Oswald Mr. Waldecrave. Mordred Mr. Cooke. 1st Lord Mr. Ray. 2d Do Mr. Caiir. 3dDo Mr. Maddocks. Baldred, a crafty Monk, and ") t T J { v . Mr. Rae. Nephew to the King . y Orgar Mr. J. West. Osric Mr. Crooke. Peasant Mr. Chatterley. Edred, a Messenger .... Mr. Elrington. Morcar, an Attendant . . . Mr. Ens worth. Child, Son of Egbert and Lna . Miss Gledhill. Ed e l fle d a , Daughter of Ethel- -x bald, King of Mercia, and \ Mrs. Glover. betrothed to Egbert . . \ In a, (secretly married to Egbert) . Mrs. Bart ley*; Bertha, Coiifidani 'of Edelfeda . Mrs. Breretoji. Alice, i -\ Mrs. Scott. Blanch, \ Attendants of Ina. I Miss Cooke. Messengers, Soldiers, Peasa Time — The Eighth Century. S< en e — The Capital of the Kingdom of Wessex. f- o 6& PROLOGUE, BY THE HONOURABLE WILLIAM LAMB. The tragic Muse, in this our later age Has seldom shed her influence on the stage. With jealous eye, with cold disdainful mien She turns away, and seems to claim the scene For those, to whom her loftiest lays belong — The mighty masters of her earlier song. For her high thoughts, for her impassion'd strati, For her proud crown, so often sought in vain, To-night you hear a timid votress dare Address an humble, yet ambitious prayer. Say, should her powers beneath her task decline, And sink unequal to the great design, Yet can you from her aim your praise withhold, Bold is that aim, but noble as 'tis bold. As erst in Athens, mighty mother state Of all that's lovely, as of all that's great, The gifted bards, whose grave and simple song Held high dominion o'er the list'ning throng, Drew from their country's first heroic day The wondrous subjects of their moral lay : So, in that time, when nations, driv'n to roam, PROLOGUE. Had sought in this fair Isle another home, And harbarous chiefs, where each had led his band, Now sway'd divided empires in the land, In that rude time, which gathering ages veil, We fix the scene of our fictitious tale ; Which seeks by natural passions to impart A human interest to the human heart ; A tale of secret love in generous youth, Uncompromising honour, dauntless truth ; Faith, which sore-tried nor change nor doubt can know, And public danger mix'd with private woe. — For, e'en amidst those dark and murderous times, Religion's errors and ambition's crimes, Athwart the gloom of that tempestuous day The native spirit shot a splendid ray ; The spirit of the land — whose course appears Mark'd by its glory down the path of years, Unalter'd still through every varying state The lapse of ages and the turns of fate — And late, when o'er us gleam'd the troubled air With signs of woe and portents of despair, The soul of Britain, tranquil and the same Shone forth to all mankind a guiding flame ; And if those times of toil must come once more, If blasts again must rise, and thunders roar — The beacon, brighter 'midst the gathering night, Lifts high to heav'n its unextinguish'd light, And, from the sacred Isles commanding steep Streams life and safety o'er the labouring deep. INA. ACT I. SCENE I. A Garden. Edelfleda. Bertha. Her. My sovereign mistress, must I see thee droop In secret sadness, while thon chid'st the wish Of faithful duty to partake thy griefs ? Thy earliest infancy my precious charge, Thy opening bloom my aged bosom's pride ; Thou know'st how I have tended, watch'd, and lov'd thee. Edel. Forgive my wayward temper, dearest Bertha ; And may'st thou never know the pang that forc'd The peevish word which seem'd to chide thy love. Ber. Alas ! my princess, double is the wrong To own a pang, nor share it with thy Bertha. Edel. (embarrassed.) What have I said? Oh! there are pangs that shun All fellowship. Grief utters its complaint, And finds a sweetness in its gushing tears ; But this ! JBer. Oh heaven ! thou speak'st as tho" remorse Had stung thy bosom. Say, what can thy youth, Thy innocence — Edel. Peace, Bertha, pence! remorse Were his, more justly, who inflicts the ill. Wrongs undeserv'd, and borne in silence, wake B 2 INA, No conscious blush. The weak complaint alone (By pride disown'd) might crimson o'er my cheek. Eer. If breath'd to me ? To me, whose rap- tur'd ear Drank the first half-form'd accents of thy tongue. Edel. Spare me, my friend, nor farther press thy suit : Have I not ills enough that thou may'st share ? This hated court is Edelfleda's prison ; Not the gay scene of her fanfd beauty's triumph. But Mercia's king, the valiant Ethelbald, Will free his daughter, and avenge her wrongs I Restore her to her country — to her honours — To all restore her, save to happiness ! Neglected! scorn'dl JBer. By whom neglected, scorn'd ? Edel. (embarrassed.) The king ! his nobles ! Ber. The king loves — honours thee ; Already, princess, holds thee as his daughter, Whom a few days will make Prince Egbert's wife. Edel. Prince Egbert's wife? Oh ! never, never, Bertha. Why hast thou touch'd that string? JBer. I thought no ill. Came you not to this court betroth'd to hiin ? And gaily came, a joyful, willing bride? Is not Prince Egbert knighthood's fairest flower? Edel. Too sure, I came; gay, thoughtless, young, and free ; And, oh ! too surely, he is all thou say'st : Nay, far beyond thy fancy's reach endowd ! JBer. Thy speech is still at variance with itself. Edel. 'Tis but the picture of the strife within. Ber. My child ! these dreadful words of mystery Fill all my soul with terror. I adjure thee, A TRAGEDY. 3 By my long services, my faithful duty, Speak thy full heart. Edel. (after a conflict.) Bertha, me he loves not. Oh ! spare a princess' pride, and guess the rest. Ber. Heaven shield thee ! would'st thou say he loves another ? Nay, think it not : she has been long remov'd. Edel. I nam'd her not. Ha ! then thou knowst it, Bertha ! Or had'st not glanc'd at her. Thou know'st it ; speak, Oh ! tell me all ; it is too late to hide it. Ber. Indeed I nothing know — believe me, nothing : The idle rumours of an idle court — Should they arrest our thoughts ? Edel. What idle rumours ? And am I then the jest o' the idle court? Do they point at me as I pass, and say 'Tis she ! 'tis the neglected EdeWeda ! Ber. Be calm, my princess ; see the holy Baldred : You did yourself request his presence. Enter Baldred. Edel. (resuming a dignified manner.) Father, You are welcome. I would claim a service, For sudden purposing to leave a court Where I have long resided, while the duty A daughter owes a father — Bald. Can it be That Edelfleda leaves the court of Wessex, When all the palace, all the city, hails With gratulation her approaching nuptials ? Edel. (haugldihj.) Softly, good Baldred. Learn that Mercia's princess a 2 4 INA, Is not so slightly won, nor gives her hand As to the careless boor the village maid, Willing ere woo'd, or rudely woo'd at best. Bald, (sarcastically.) Ill would the faultering phrase, the humble sigh, Become the lip accustom'd to command ! Would'st thou Prince Egbert, he so grac'd bf fortune, Should bear himself as common lovers use? Edel. 1 heed not how the prince may bear himself. Go, Baldred ; plead his cause in other ears, Where it may more import. What may concern My honour, is my sole, my proper care. I claim no service of your courtesy, Save to make known, e'en now, to royal Cenulph, My purpose to return to Mercia's court. [Bccemit Edel. and Ber. Bald, (alone.) And is it so? And will she sacrifice To pride, her passion for detested Egbert? This may work mischief to the man I hate. All kindly feelings from my breast I banish'd, When, in disgust and bitterness of soul, O'er my deep festering wounds I flung this garb. It was for Egbert fortune slighted me ! Ere he had grasp'd a sword, I led the battle ! When lo ! he comes a meteor in men's eyes — Draws in his glittering train my soldiers' hearts — I woo'd fair Ina, and was paid with scorn: While Egbert — curses on him ! by fair deeds— Ha ! did I call them so ? Was't a fair deed To woo the maid, whose charms had fir'd my breast ? Though now to hate be turn'd the love I bore her,. My bosom holds remembrance of the offence. A TRAGEDY. » Enter an Attendant. Att. The king demands your presence, holy father, On matters of high import. Bald. I attend. [ [Exeunt. SCENE II. Cenulph and Lords. Cen. The times indeed do wear a fearful aspect. You, noble Oswald, Mordred, Alwyn, Orgar, Have shar'd my counsels with the holy Baldred ; And ever, when the reeling state has rock'd. As the toss'd bark, stemming th' opposing surge, Your long experience, and your steady hand, Have brought her safe to port. We have advices That Ethelbald has arm'd, but yet declares not. His hostile purpose ; still in martial shews Breathing his powers : as 'twere the boar enchaf 'd, That whets his hideous tusks, and wounds the soil, Rooting up herb and flower. Osw. My gracious Liege, And can you doubt the purpose of proud Mercia ? Have not of late more frequent messengers Sped with unwonted diligence 'twixt him And his fair daughter? nay, who has not markd The princess' alter'd mien — the quick succession Of fierce conflicting passions on her brow. The day is not yet fix'd that gives her hand To Cenulph's royal heir. The people murmur, That thus the pledge of peace with Ethelbald, Should still on vain pretences be deferr'd. 6 INA, Cen. Oswald, thou pointest to my sorrow's source. My friends, ye know Prince Egbert's ardent temper, In childhood haply foster'd by indulgence. Alw. We do, my Liege; but his impatient spirit Is coupled with such warm, heart-winning frank- ness, Si eh all-embracing kindness, it but seems The larger bounty of more lib'ral nature. lor. A father or a friend may see it thus, B it is dangerous. — To this we owe, (This spirit so impatient of controul,) Ti we are threaten'd by dread Ethelbald. Cen. We sheath'd the sword, my friends, and Edelfleda Came to our court — the pledge of mutual love Betwixt two nations harassed by long war. Betroth'd to Egbert, all a mother's care, From my good Editha, the princess shar'd. The general sorrow, while my poor queen lan- guish'd, And her lamented death, forbade the nuptials. Meantime — (Ah ! woe to me that e'er I foster'd That serpent in my easy bosom) Ina, The orphan daughter of brave Sigiswold- Osw. My Liege, remov'd you not the lovely mischief? Forbidding her the court and festive pageants, Ere yet the prince enthrall'd Cen. Such was my hope ; And — for I thought by glory's nobler flame Eclips'd, the idle torch of Love might fade, 1 sent my Egbert to command the force Rais'd to repel the inroads on our borders. Whether it be, that all on martial deeds A TRAGEDY. 7 His soul intent, he spurn inglorious ease, Or that this Ina still may haunt his fancy, The court he shuns, and its gay soft delights ; And late, when at the tournament, proclaim'd In honour of the beauteous Edelrleda, He bore the prize from all the knights of name, Neglectful of the princess, — at her feet He plac'd nor sword nor trophy, — but abrupt Broke from the lists, unmindful and discourte- ous, To roam apart from all, — I know not whither. Mor. Justly the haughty princess is offended. Enter Baldred. Bal. My Liege, I come from Edelfleda's pre- sence, A messenger unwilling — to declare Her x sudden purpose, ere the nuptial rites Have seafd the bond of union 'twixt the states, To seek her father's court. Osiu. My sovereign Lord J The public weal at stake — Mor. Prevent her purpose — Delay not, sire, to solemnize the nuptials. Cen. But she must first be sooth'd. — Osw. The prince alone Can bend her proud neck to the gentle yoke She would be woo'd to wear. — Cen. Retire, my friends, — Alwyn, find thou my son. Thou know'st his haunts. Command him to my presence in my closet. I must be firm — my crown, my honour, all Must be secur'd this day by his obedience. I have too long been passive. — Mark me, Alwyn, For thou dost hold, I know, the master key 8 INA, That locks his inmost counsel ; nay, with voice Of soft persuasion, while thou seem'st to yield, Dost bend his lofty spirit to thy reason : See that he come disposed to do my pleasure. It is the King who will confer with him. Tell him he has too long abus'd the father. [Exeunt severally. SCENE III. Iria^s Sower. Egbert and Ina^ Egb. Oh, yes ! I was indeed to blame, my love. Too much I yielded to the timid counsel Of cautious Alwyn. Ina. Thou wast not to blame. Thy mother's fondness, and her sov'reign sway O'er thy kind father's heart ; — her care for me, The orphan daughter of her earliest friend Egb. And thy brave father, too, whose loyal breast Receiv'd the dagger aim'd at Cenulph's life - Ina. And at his feet expired ! Egb. Oh ! these were hopes And claims, that sanctioned well the confidence With which I snatch'd thee to my beating bosom, Call'd thee my wife ! my dear, my honour'd wife ! And swore that thou should'st be ere long ac- knowledged By Cenulph, his throne's heiress, and his daughter. Ina. Thou could'st not then foresee that cruel death Would rob us of the queen, and our best hopes. Egb. But that I did respect my father's sorrow, I theu had, spite of Alwyn, at his ieet, A TRAGEDY. 9 Told all my love, — confessed my fault — my fault? Ha ! said I fault to love such excellence ? Inn. (starting.) Methought I heard approaching steps: each sound Appals me, since I live a sad recluse,, With thoughts — tho' not of guilt — that slum the light. Egb. This is my worst reproach ! — That vir- tue's self Should be by me condemned to own the fears Which only guilt should know. Enter Alwyn. Ina. It is kind Alwyn : Welcome, my friend. Oh ! sooth his troubled mind, That dwells with too much pain on our lost hopes. Alw. Alas ! I am the bearer of worse pain. Ye have heard that Ethelbald has taken arms — The offended princess past all hope estrang'd. — The king, awaken'd by th' indignant lords, And by the peoples' murmurs, which have reach'd At length his careless ear, in angry mood, Has sent me to command you to his presence, To press, — I fear — with Edelfleda Egb. Peace ! 'Tvvere sacrilege to utter such a thought As now hangs on thy lip. — Ina. My much-lov'd lord ! Oh ! hear, good Alywn : hear him patiently. — Too long we fondly from our thoughts have driven The frightful future in our present bliss. Egb. And would'st thou I should hear him bid me wed 10 INA, With Edelfleda?— Cast thee from me ?—theef By every holy tie my wedded wife ! Alw, But by the laws, alas ! and king not sanc- tion'd ! Egb. Can human laws o'ermaster the divine ? Tear from a mother's breast her infant joy, And bid a father's heart not own his child ? Can a king's breath annul the thing that is? lna. Be calm, my Egbert ! oh ! it is not thus By eager words of fruitless controversy We can avert the ill, or find the means To reconcile our duty and our love. I will retire, and leave thee with our friend : Yes, my lov'd lord ! true friendship has more skill To work our good than our self-blinded judgment. It knows not passion — for it takes the soul Out of the earthy mould where passion lurks, To watch, — a guardian spirit, — o'er the weal Of its true object : as the sun it shines For others' good ! — still giving, without thought Of like return ! so high ! so pure ! so bounteous ! Oh ! I do think kind angels lend to friendship Some touch of their divinity, to raise Th* aspiring thought to heavenly harmony ! " [Exit. Egb. (gazing after her.) She is herself that heaven of harmony ! Oli ! Alwyn ! blest in Ina's love, thy friend Is lost to life's low cares. Alw. Too true, my prince ; In voluntary blindness thou hast pass'd Thy thoughtless days of visionary bliss ; But I must rudely rouze thee from thy trance, And bid thee look, with eye firm fix'd, e'en now On all the fearful truth. A TRAGEDY. 11 Egb. Speak on. — I am calm. Aht\ The king- expects thee. He will press thy marriage With Edelfleda. Egb. Alwyn, were I not To Jna bound by ties so dear, so sacred — Oh ! no — I could not think of Edelfleda But as a sister. To her father's court I went a stripling, ere the feud arose That sever'd us, and plung'd the states in war. In th' op'ning splendour of her awful beauty I honour'd her with boyish reverence, As the bright sample of some airy world ; I ne'er had lov'd her as my dearer self! As my heaven-destin'd partner ! as my Ina ! Alw. The princess' self, with jealous anger fir'd, Will spare thee the ungrateful task to say 'Tis thou who dost reject her. Her proud spirit Will scorn the hand but offer'd as the bond Of union 'twixt the states. Meantime, the troops On the fresh news that Ethelbald has arin'd, With clamorous voice demand thee as their leader. Thus we gain time — and sure the pitying heavens Will look on so much virtue, so much love — And turn aside the storm that threatens them. Egb. Yes, thou hast shewn our last remaining hope ! Proud Edelfleda will disdain my hand ! Oh ! thou art all my comfort, all my stay ; I will in all be guided by thy prudence. [Exeunt. END OF THE FIRST ACT. C 1 *2 1NA, ACT II. SCENE I. Cenulph, Oswald, $c. Cen. And has a king no friend ? Would no one tell What, it seems, all or knew or did suspect? And have his secret visits been so frequent To this abandoned woman ? Artful fiend ! Well might she meekly thus retire content, And shun the public gaze, as I commanded ; When, at her feet, all languishing with love, Lay Cenulph's son, the heir of Wessex' throne ! Ye all have been in league — are traitors all ! Osic. My Liege, you wrong our faith. It is but now 1 learn what I have given to your ear. Cen. By night, say'st thou, he from the camp would steal ? Osw. Ev'n so, my Liege. When, in the crimson west, Mantled in blushing clouds, the sun went down, Each order given, the prince would mount his steed ; Swift as the winds, and as direct his course, He topp'd the mountain, skimm'd the valley, plung'd Into the foaming river, stemuTd the current, And reach'd the bower where Ina waited him ; Then, ere the grey light streak'd the eastern sky, W r ith course as rapid, he regain'd the camp. A TRAGEDY. 13 Cen. Perdition seize the sorceress! That the child ^ Of Sigiswold, my youth's first friend, in age My counsellor — who in th' extreme of peril Gave me his life — Osw. He only gave, my Liege, What was already yours. Cen. Peace, flatterer! Had I my subjects* lives so rated, think' st thou I e'er had ownd a friend like Sigiswold. Enter Alwyn. Ahv. Prince Egbert waits, my Liege. May I advise, — May I beseech your grace, assail the prince With gentle speech. Howe'er his spirit rage Beneath the iron curb of harsh controul, His heart will answer every tender touch With readiest sympathy. He cannot see Wrong on the brute inflicted, and restrain The tear that swells for his mute suffering. Cen. What would'st thou I should say ? He must, he shall, This very day, espouse fair Edelfleda. Osw. Nay, my good lord. She too must now be won To give her hand ; but that would cost small pains To Egbert's self, might he be brought to wish it. 'Tis to this end 1 would that you urge home To his warm, generous nature, all the ruin, Dishonour to your crown — the thousand mischiefs That hang on his refusal, till his heart Embrace onr cause, forgetful of its own. Cen. I hear his steps — away — I will suppress My anger, Oswald, and will touch each string That readiest vibrates in the generous breast. 14 INA, Attend the princess hither. She requests A private audience. 1 will work him to it ; And, ere he cool, she shall herself appear, AncLmakehim all her own. [Exit Oswald. Enter Egbert and Alwyn. Egb. (to Alwyn.) For the first time I meet his angry brow. Cen. Approach, my son. Sit thou beside me. I am old, and worn By a long- reign of war — of cruel bloodshed, It was not mine t' avert. The throne I fill Will soon be thine, and I would know from thee Thy thoughts of the high office. Egb. Oh ! my father ! As yet unknowing but of martial rule, To rouse, direct, or quell the soldier's rage — Of thee I hope to learn each exercise Of peaceful government. Cen. And dost thou think To learn of me to hold the throne of Wessex, But as a larger means to do thy pleasure ? To hold the people but as flocks, nor care How many swell th' account of them that bleed, If but thy giddy passions be indulged? Egb. How should I learn of thee these tyrant maxims ; Thou, who hast ever sought thy peoples' good ? Cen. If such has been the measure of my sway, How much must wiser Egbert scorn his father r Egbert, who rather would unbar the gates, And hail, with impious welcome, the invader, Than aught controul his idlest appetite. Egb. No, my lov'd father ; I would give my life , A TRAGEDY. 15 To save thy simplest peasantry from ill. Oh ! let me prove it in the field of glory, And pour forth all my blood ! Cen. Go to, rash boy ; 'Tis not thy blood thy country asks of thee: 'Tis not thy blood can make thy father happy : No, if thou hadst but entertained such thoughts As suit thy royal birth, thou hadst ere this Assur'd our peoples' welfare and thine own. Now 'tis too late, the sword is drawn, that dooms Thousands to pay the forfeit of thy fault, While thou wilt, thoughtless, revel in light joys I blush to thitdc upon ! Egb. (much affected.) Oh, Alwyn, Alwyn ! Cen. A princess mock'd by nuptials vainly promis'd My name, my crown, branded with foul dis- honour ! I shall not long survive this sum of ill, Thus parricide will heap the monstrous measure Of thy licentious deeds! — Egb. (terrified.) Most horrible ! Are there no means? oh, point the way, my father. To thy unworthy son. Let me alone Meet the uplifted sword of Ethelbald, And free thy people from the threat'ning foe ; Nor from a subject's veins one precious drop Distain the peaceful soil. — Cen. It is well said. — Insult a princess, — break her generous heart ;-— And murder then her father. — Egb. (clasping his hands.) Wretch accurs'd ! Am I so deep in guilt ? Cen. (taking his hand kindly.) Not yet my sou ; But such the course thou headlong dost pursue- Egb. (eagerly.) Not yet ? and is there time ? oh ! then thy son 16 INA, Will act a worthier part. Cen. Why, this is well. — The princess owns a generous soul, and will — Egb. I know her generous ! and the generous nature Will readiest melt in sympathy. — I'll seek The noble Ed el fled a — at her feet Will pour forth all my soul ! [Enter Edelfleda and Bertha, escorted bij Oswald, who retires, .] Edel. (aside to Eertha.)Oh, heaven! my Bertha, May I believe my senses? have I wrongd him? Cen. (to Edelfleda.) Thou, unawares, hast heard my son declare What a rude soldier's plain unpractised tongue, Aw'd by thy charms, had ill express'd to thee. Eer. (aside to Edelfleda.) Be firm, and claim a royal escort hence. — The fear to lose thee will unlock his lips. Edel. (watching Egbert.) Royal Cenulph ! I but claim'd your patience To ask such escort — as becomes — my state, — Unto my father's capital — in — Mercia : This was my errand — nor thought I to meet One — almost — grown a stranger — in this pre- sence. Cen. Doubtless, fair princess, if it be thy wish Thy native court to visit, and thy father, When the new season smiles with happy omen, Thou shalt have royal escort, as befits us, And love shall guide thee, Hymen light thy way, — Meet convoy for the beauteous Edelfleda, And mine and Mercia's daughter ! Edel. Royal sir, As Mercia's daughter only must I go, A TRAGEDY. 17 Nor can as Mercians daughter brook delay. I claim no other title. Alw. (aside to Egbert.) Mark her speech—* Firm to reject thy hand. Egb. (aside to Alwyn.) Oh ! it is vain, Alwyn, to combat thus with stronger nature ; I cannot play the part thy caution prompts. Alw. Think of thy Ina, and, oh ! think, thy rashness Might bring the royal vengeance on her head. Egb. That name! oh ! guide me,- 1 — guide me as thou wilt — What shall I say to shield her precious head ? Alw. Speak gentle words as you were well dispos'd To satisfy the high demands of state. Cen. {who has been talking apart ivith Edel- fleda.) Thy father pleads in vain : speak thou, my son. Thou may'st prevail on filial love, perhaps, (Though much I honour this its pious wish,) Awhile to yield its claim to claims more sweet, And yet more powerful. Egb. {much embarrassed?) Fair Edelfleda ! Thou know'st our youth, contracted by our fathers ; Ere yet our hearts had spoken, we were doom'd By Hymen's bonds to ratify the peace Betwixt two war-worn nations. Edel. Oh ! sad lot Of royal slaves, who thus are bought and sold ! But no, Prince Egbert ; no, it was not so ; Our fathers barter'd our young hearts. Reason Approves that I- — esteem thy virtues- 1 — and — Egb. And bids me honour thee, for thou art noble ' i> 18 1NA, Nor though the axe were lifted o'er my head* Could I one moment longer, by feign'd words, Abuse thy generous temper. Hence, base art! Dissimulation, hence! Speak nature! truth! [throwing himself at her feet. See, princess, at thy feet a wretched man, JBow'd to the level of the peasant swain, Who trembles for the lowly roof that shelters His wife and little ones ! Cen. What mean thy words ? Egb. {with dignity, rising.) I am, like him, a husband and a father ! [Edelfleda sinks into Bertha's arms. Cen. Dar'st thou avow it? — Ha! rash youth, beware ! Thou art a subject still, nor could'st thou pledge Thy faith, unsanction'd by thy king ! thy father ! My royal word was given to Ethelbald. Set'st thou at nought the honour of my crown? Egb. King ! there are ties of nature stronger far Than even those convention has stampt sacred 'Twixt man and man, by social compact bound. The rudest savage, howling amid deserts, That tears his vanquished foe, devours his flesh, And quaffs his smoking blood, does yet defend His mate, the mother of his babes, with wild And desperate love ; and meekest things that creep, Or wing the air, in nature's clearest cause Will brave destruction from the spoiler's rage. 1 am a husband, king ! I am a father! Cen. Thou art a traitor ! Alw. {aside to Egbert?) Oh ! my royal friend, Thy impetuous feelings — thy imprudent words — Will bring destruction. Cen. Guards ! secure that traitor. A TRAGEDY. 19 Alw. {aside) Who now will shield poor Ina ? Eo-b. I!— I will! {To the Guards) Oft, sirs! First take my life ! {The Guards fall back) Alw. Oh ! yield, dear prince ! Yield, if the life of Ina yet be precious ! Egb. My Ina ! for thy sake— {Gives his sword to the Guards. Sirs ! take my sword ! And now my chains ! {The Guards approach fearfully and reluc- tantly to chain him) Cm. Why tremble ye ? Obey. Edel. {recovering) Monarch! grown hoary in deceit and fraud ! Leagu'd with thy worthless son to insult me thus ! Ye shall for this feel Ethelbald's dread arm. HuiTd from your throne, and prostrate at his feet, Shall sue in vain for mercy, while your cries, The cries of Ina — ev'n her infant's cries — Shall fall as sweetest music on my ear. Ev'n now great Ethel bald is on your borders ; 'Twas / unsheath'd his sword ! 'Tis 1 who guide it ! And none but /can turn its edge aside ! [Exit with Bertha. Cen. {to Egbert) Thus, wretch accurs'd ! is this devoted land, Her wounds scarce clos'd, and scarce renew Vi her strength, By thee to war's fell demons given again ; Nor though th' abandon'd, the perfidious Ina, Were doom VI to pay the forfeit of her crime, By deep disgrace, by death in lingering torments - • Egb. Ha! torments? lingering torments, said'st thou, tyrant ? d2 20 INA, But heaven's own angels watch o'er innocence ! Nor can there be conceal'd in human shape The fiend could touch her with a hand of harm ! The most remorseless villain, bred to blood, Fierce creature of thy fiercer will, would shrink At sight of Ina, in the majesty Of virtue, beauty, youth, distress ! Cen. Away ! Guards ! drag him hence. Ha ! Osric in such haste ! Enter Osric. Osric. My Liege, with rapid march the King of Mercia Advances on thy frontier. Deadly his rage ! His powers, the breathless messengers declare, Rush as a torrent with impetuous course On the devoted land. No order taken, Confusion and dark mutiny prevail Among our troops. The surly soldiers, mur- muring, Demand Prince Egbert at their head. Cen. Prince Egbert ? What? To a traitor shall I trust my cause? Osric. Such confidence in him each soldier feels, Such love, such loyalty. I know it well, They will fall off, or coldly meet the foe, If any other leader Cen. Is it so? Then is it time I yield my forfeit sceptre, Lest he with impious hand should wrest it from me! {He throws down his sceptre!) Guards, free the man who henceforth is your king, And do with me as does the graceless churl, A TRAGEDY. 21 Who lays the axe remorseless to the oak, That stretch'd its sheltering arras o'er his fore- fathers, When wintry winds have stript its leafy pride. Egb. (rushing to him ivith passionate tenderness.) See me, ray honour'd father, at thy feet! Oh speak not words that cut my heart asunder ! Resume thy honours, — [Giving him the sceptre. See thy humblest subject ! Oh shew some signs of pardon and Of comfort, That 1 may say thy son — thy penitent son.— Yes trust thy cause to me — to thee I trust. All that my soul holds dear — my wife! mv child! [After a pause taking his hand with great emotion.] If I should fall, they will be dear to thee. — ■ Cen. Oh Egbert, Egbert ! thou go'st near to break Thy father's heart ! this sudden flood of ill, Pour'd from all sides on my devoted head O'erwhelms me quite. — Well, since it must be &r>« Prepare thee for command : [With suspicion^ I will not think Thou yet hast practis'd aught disloyal, prince, Save what I charge to wild unbridled youth. We will confer again ere thou take horse. Alwyn, thy arm. [Egbert offers his assistance, and Centjlph puts him away.] Nay, I would be alone. [Exit ivith Alwyn. Egb. 'Tis Ahvyn's arm supports him — not his son's ! Alas ! this keen rebuke is just, my father : 22 INA, Yet dost thou trust me ; and thy confidence, So precious, shall be justified by service Thou look'st not for at my unworthy hands. Re-enter Alwyn. Alw. My royal friend — I tremble but to think Of thy imprudence. — How avert the ills — Egb. Alwyn, no ill awaits the upright course ! This dark concealment! 'twas the only stain My bosom knew. — Oh ! couldst thou guess the load It has thrown off! how buoyant all is here! Avert what ill? for, grant I lose a crown ! (An awful charge, not merely a gay circlet To grace the brow) integrity remains ! Were I not happier? aye, and worthier too — A sturdy peasant, with undaunted front, Grappling with stern adversity, than wielding Sceptres by wrong obtain'd, or violence To inbred honesty : — my friend, I have led My countrymen to battle : each bosom own'd As brave a heart, and in his country's cause As warm as mine — and haply each like me, Had his heart's partner too at home, who trembled, And wept for him, as Ina for her Egbert. There is a brotherhood in tented fields, Where all with equal venture play for lives, That wakes a consciousness we are but men, And men alike, till worth have made distinction. ^Exeunt. END OF THE SECOND ACT. A TRAGEDY. 23 ACT III. SCENE I. Edelfleda. Bertha. Edel. Leave me, good Bertha, thy officious love But wearies me. — Ber. Thy pardon, dearest mistress. Edcl. These cumbrous robes ! these idle orna- ments Oppress my bosom. Thou hast deck'd me out As 'twere a victim for the sacrifice. — I am the victim ! thou hast wisely done ! Ber. The artful Baldred rules King Cenulph's mind ; Nay, can compel, some say, the stubborn fates, By prayers, and penance, and mysterious rites. Through his means haply thou may'st triumph yet. Edel. Yes ! I will triumph yet — but if the means Recoiling fancy dare but faintly shadow ! Oh Bertha ! Bertha ! dost thou think kind nature Form'd me for darkest deeds ? oh, no ! her hand Temper'd my soul to gentleness and love, And stampt it with a royal loftiness ; But it is given in possession now To such a friend ! — so irresistible ! [Hiding- her face in Bertha's bosom. Thou 'rt good and kind ! — oh ! throw me from thy heart ! I never more shall there deserve a place. Ber. That heart is thine , my princess,— owns no Bounds 24 INA, To its devotion ! nay, take hope — take comfort — Th' astonished king was as thyself indignant. Thou saw'st the prince in chains ! King Cenulph loves thee — He will annul the marriage. — Edel. How annul it? Not if she live ! he cannot sunder hearts.-^ No, if she live— -it is impossible. — I would have fled ere the ungentle wish That she were not — JBer. Then think of her as dead ! — - Thy wish might stamp her doom. Edel. {with horror.) What, murder her! Ber. Not that. — Stern policy has instruments Secret and sure. Thou know'st the envious abbot Beneath that saintly garb wraps deadly hate. Edel. Let me not hear — nor guess what thou would'st say. It will be mine to soothe him when 'tis done ! I must not bear the horrid consciousness About my heart ; — for I will win his love By virtue then, by tenderness, and patience ! Then did I say ? ah, then! what thought was that, My guilty soul admitted ? oh ! is virtue So convenient? ivill she? can she dwell again In the polluted bosom she forsook? Or if she could — remorse must usher her ! Unutterable woe ! — oh, save me !- — save me ! {After a pause!) One only means is left may yet preserve These hands from stain of blood. Some pitying angel Whispers the thought. — Come, Bertha ! let us haste. [Exeunt. A TRAGEDY, 25 SCENE II. Mai. (alone.) Too long, methinks, the king* confers with Egbert. He leads the army! — I would have it so. — The time has been, men fell in fight. — Death rulYt Uuquestion'd there.— -Yet now, methinks, for him All weapons lose their edge!— But has this hand Forgot the means t* effect this bosom's purpose ? No ! by this hand, he never sees her more !— I hate her — yet I envy him his joys. — What, wedded to her! Hell ! — nor shall she live! For grant the marriage cancell'd, and that I Could love again — she never can be mine ! From tie connubial, and parental love, For ever by my own rash vows cut off, No eye shall beam with rapture to meet mine, And share the mutual thought, ere we can speak; No hand clasp mine with boundless confidence — * Enter Egbert. Egb. What ! munnurst thou of confidence and joy ? Of eyes that meet, and hands that clasp in love ! Bal. That sinful in their sweetness are these things, And as rank weeds that wear a gaudy blossom, Should be uprooted from the wholesome soil ; While, as the liberal herbage spreading wide, Or sacred grain, friendly to general life, The public weal alone should be our care. Egb. These maxims, holy kinsman, are severe For one erewhile a gay, a gallant soldier. What! for the public weal wouldst thou uproot That which does make the public weal our care? Why fill the eyes with tears ? Why leaps the heart? £ 26 INA, " Our country' but the theme of our discourse? We love the land where first the light of heaven Broke on our eyes! — dear by all childhood's joys! Her soil enfolds our fathers' honour d bones ! Our friends and kinsmen reap her golden har- vests ! But there are ties ! which thou hast thrown from thee, That more than these endear our country's name! That brace the thrilling nerves, and swell the bo- som — Doubling the powers and energies of man ! Bal. Ha! did / throw from me those ties? (howe'er My heav'n-ward thoughts despise them now !) thou treach'rous, Thou gay insinuating flatterer ! — thou, Who stealing on the promise of my bliss — Egb. 'Tis false, proud priest ! Her love was mine, ere thou Hadst with loathed passion gaz d on Ina's charms. She ever hated thee ! — Bal. Thou say'st so, boaster ! Haply my soldiers' hearts alike were thine, Ere I had led them forth. —I ! who so long Fenc'd with this arm thy father s tottering throne Against dread Ethelbald. — Egb. Hold, Baldred, hold! I grant my fathers throne was sore beset When mighty Ethelbald came thundering on. But force me not to say icho fenc'd his throne. Bal. Nay, doubly treacherous was thy part ! thou cam st Prank'd in gay youth, and glittering novelty — With idle promises, alluring wiles — A TRAGEDY. 27 And won the dastard knaves, who had forsook me, To turn again with swift recoiling- force On the triumphant foe ; thus foully wresting The dear-earn VI meed of longer services. Egb. Vain reasoner! true; the flying bands T rallied By promises, not idle, if fulfill'd ! Nor wrong d thee of the meed of victory, — For on thy brow I would have placd her wreath. Bal. 'Twas all hypocrisy ! — 'twas insult all ! Thou still hast wrong'd me,— but I scorn thee still, Fortune's sleek minion! Flattery's demi-god ! Awhile thou yet may'st flutter in their sunshine, A gay-wing'd insect, till the northern blast From short existence sweep thee, while the eagle Towers in her native skies ! — Egb. Peace! coward priest! Who thus secure, beneath that saintly garb, Dost blacken worth, and rail at envied greatness. Bal. Thy worth I own not, nor thy fleeting greatness. Potter is true greatness ! Go, guide thou the sword Thousands of sinews wield ! but / can slack Those sinews that they loose their hold. Thus wrapt, I sway by holy awe the souls of men, And am superior in sujieridr power) Egb. I mock thy blustering impotence and pride, But I respect the garb thou dost abuse, And, therefore, priest, I imchastis'd will leave thee, While yet my better thoughts restrain my arm. e 2 Exit. 28 INA, Bed. Thinks he to awe me by his lofty car- riage ? And shall nay spirit stand rebuk'd by his? Shall I, in blood his equal, — hang the head ? Wondering, confess his rare endowments? Hail him With idiot incense as the vulgar use ? There are tame spirits who recline content Beneath the greatness that o'ershadows them. The timid herds denied by nature fangs To wage offensive war, will throng together — Obscure equality ! The lion stalks Alone ! — unrivall'd he! — the lonely tiger Leaps single on his prey ! — these brook no equal ; Nor will 1, crouching, a superior own ! — Exit. SCENE III. Inas Sower. [Ina, watching over her sleeping Child, Alice Blanch, fyc."] Ina. Still Egbert comes not, Alice ! Oh, my fears ! It seems an age that I have fix'd my eyes On that sweet sleeping innocence, thus hoping To lose the consciousness of each sad moment That slowly drags its length till he return. Al. The noble Alwyn went with him, dear mistress ; Thou know'st his prudence well. Ina. Still Egbert comes not. Al. {after looking at the child.) His sleeping features wear a joyous smile, And see ; he stretches forth his little hands ! A TRAGEDY. 20 Regard it as a happy omen, madam. Ina. Kind Alice, thanks. Would my sad heart could do so ! Poor helpless slumberer! oh! had T been born A village maid ! a cottager, my Egbert ! The war of elements the only danger That threaten'd our low roof — thy innocent smile Had waken'd but a mother's honest joy, Nor chill'd my heart, as now, with nameless fears. AL Alas ! the sadden'd fancy gives its colour To all it rests upon, and often paints In objects of delight some idle terror. Ina. Hark ! Alice, hark ! feel how my poor heart beats ! Some dreadful ill hangs o'er us ! It must come, The hour of vengeance ! — Royalty insulted ! A father's love deceiv'd ! — Alice ! how guilty Do I appear to my affrighted conscience Whene'er my Egbert tarries long away ; But when he comes, — and when I hear his voice And meet his eye, — and feel how I am lov'd — And with what full devotion I am his, It seems not only happiness, but virtue, Glory, and honour ! — all, are mine — and lift My proud heart — Al. Now I hear a busy stir ! f>ure 'tis the prince ! — Ina. (hastening to meet him). My lord, my life, my husband. (Meets Edelfleda who enters with Bertha. Edelfleua measures her with her eyes as she totters back to Alice.) Edel. Why do you tremble, madam, and turn pale ? 30 INA. I own that this intrusion can be warranted By none but its true motive. Ina. Motive ! Princess ? What motive prompts the gentle mind to seek The unhappy, — but some courteous, kindly im- pulse? And your eyes speak not such. Some dire mis- chance Perhaps — oh ! tell me — tell me all — and with one blow ; — Alice — support me (sinks into Alices arms.) Edel. (aside to Ber.) Is she so beautiful As to my tortur'd soul my eyes present her? Ber.'"T\s but the beauty of the menial train. The royal air is wanting'. Edel. Say'st thou so ? Ah, no ! that timid softness wins its way More surely to the heart. — I too were gentle, If I, like her, were blest. — Ber. Perversely thus Ingenious jealousy will rack itself To deck its object. Edel. Jealousy no longer, But hate, contempt, and vengeance (to Ina who recovers) I am sorry That you anticipate what I would say. If thus thou swoon while yet in ignorance. How wilt thou tear with self-destructive passion Those tresses in their dark luxuriance bound "With skilful negligence around thy brow! Deface that matchless beauty with thy hands, Play o'er each practis'd act of desperation ! When thou art told, — the prince thou hast en- thral I'd, A TRAGEDY. 31 In a vile dungeon, bound with traitors chains, Awaits the doom of his disloyalty. lna. Have mercy ! heavenly powers ! impri- son'd ! chain'd ! But, no — it cannot be — thou com'st to prove me. Thou too hast lov'd him, lady, and thou could'st not, Oh no, thou could'st not thus unmov'd, declare, That he whom thou hast lov'd — impossible ! Thy voice had faulterd, and thy tears had rlow'd ! Yes, thou had'st pitied me,and kindred sorrow Had one short moment link'd our adverse souls. Edel. Who tells thee, insolent! I love the prince ? Or ever lov'd the base degenerate Egbert ? 'Tis true that policy had doonrd our hands To a forced union once— aud therefore was he Sacred to such as thou! — treason the thought In any subject's breast to match with him. Ina. If it be treason, I alone am guilty. — Treason regards but the aspiring subject ; Nor can the same be charg'd on yielding great- ness. Then plead for me in this, howeer thou hate me, Plead for me, royal Edelrleda! Claim For me the chains he wears (if it be so That he indeed does wear them) ; set him free : (kitccliug.) I, I alone have sinn'd against the laws ! The king, and him, and thee ! Edel. All ! all ! thou fiend ! And think'st thou it can aught atone my wrongs, Though low I see thee, grov'ling at my feet? Off, shameless woman ! Shameless Egbert's choice ! 32 TNA, Ina. (rising, and with dignity.) The woman honor'd by Prince Egbert's choice, Founds on that choice her claim to more respect. As Egbert's wife, I must withdraw from one Unmindful what to Egbert's wife is due. (Turning to Alice.} Raise gently, Alice, my sweet infant boy, Lest he affrighted wake ; then follow me. EdeL (Stopping Alice, and gazing passionately on the child.) Oh ! heaven ! Is this his child ? Ina. Madam, it is. You startle him. I pray you speak more softly. Ungentle tones ne'er wounded yet his ear. Edel. Nay, take it hence. I know not why I look'd on't. (Ina, Isis' flood, And gave me to a cottager in charge. — Nay, thought of me in victory's madd'ning hour, And sent ere night one skill'd to close my wounds. Lady, if tmrd this heart, th' impression grav'd On hardest things, is deepest, and most durable! 54 INA, Ina. Thou 'it mov'd ! — kind soul ! — my grief, — not I, did wrong thee. Sure thou couldst pity me. Osric. Oh ! might I prove it ! Ina. Thou may'st ! for though thou canst not spare my life Tis thine to soften death. Thou, by thy office, Hast access ever to the royal presence. Conduct me to the king. Osric. (astonished?) Ha ! say'st thou ? — where- fore? Ina. I would but claim a grandsire's pitying care For Egbert's — for thy benefactor's — child. Then look on death with such meek constancy As innocence may lend. — Osric. Thou hast prevail'd. But lady, wait — I pray you wait a space Till darker night close round, and the hush'd palace Assure no interruption. — 'Tis but life I hazard here, — the soldier's honour safe ! For Alwyn said the king forbade controul, Save in what might afford thee means of freedom. Ina. Thou generous man! thy precious life is sure ; The prince at hazard of his own will guard it. But what of Alwyn ? thou didst speak his name. {giving her a dagger!) Osric. He bade me give thee this ; yet, charge thee, live If it be possible. * {taking it eagerly.) Ina. I understand him. [After looking at it with emotion she goes ton table on which are emblems of worship^ Here I shall offer up my last sad prayer A TRAGEDY. 35 When I return ; and, if the secret voice Of conscience speak assent, yes, — I will hug thee, Horrible as thou art! — thou last best friend, That canst alone prevent the headsman's stroke. (Lays the dagger on the table!) Here too I place my Egbert's pictur'd form, It might offend . (Takes a picture from her breast.) And here, these gems, his tokens ! (Places ornaments!) They ill become the wretched supplicant To death devoted. (Returning to Osric.) Alwyn, where is he ? I little thought that Alwyn would forsake me. Osric. Forsake thee ? He ! the cruel sentence passed, — He flung him on the steed prepared for thee ; And, with a madman's desperate course, he sped To seek thy Egbert. Ina. Oh ! 'twas rashly done ! Had I but known his purpose, I had sent Some words of comfort, — of fallacious hope. Osric, my husband's bosom owns no thought Mine does not share. We are one heart! one mind ! And the full tidings of my fate, pour'd forth With careless haste, will kill him. Oh ! I know, Too well I know, alas ! th' impetuous course Of all his soul's affections! Osric. Nay, take comfort. Haply good Alwyn brings him to thy rescue. Ina. The distance ! Osric. — Will the wild winds lend Their rushing wings ? — Osric. Forestall not eyils, lady. There's pity still in heaven ! 50 JNA, Ina. (looking out) See, my friend ! The last pale lingering light has left the west.. I will prepare me. Osric. 1 will wait you, lady. [Exeunt severalty. SCENE II. A Wood. Night. Baldred and armed Peasants. Bal. A thoughtless groom that tends on A1- wyn's steeds Betray'd their course. They will pass through this wood : Conceal yourselves, my friends, and be ye sure The prince escape not. Egbert's death alone Can save you from the sword of Ethelbald. Think of your wives, your children, and your homes. Hark ! I hear distant voices ! to your stand. {they conceal themselves) Enter Egbert and Alwyn. Egb. Oh! Alwyn! that my gallant steed should fail me! In Ina's rescue fail met — Al. Ere he sunk O'erwearied, he had measur'd half the realm ! My fleetest coursers wait in yonder hamlet, Conceal'd by darkness and these tangled trees, Trust me, my lord. I know each knotted oak, Each bushy dell ; and, though the moon refuse Her friendly beam, can guide your steps aright. (Tlie Peasants attack them. Egbert tvards off their iveapons, but does not strike them) Egb. Refrain these ruffian staves ! hold, trai- tors ! hold ! I am your prince — your leader — and for you Have this day stak'd by blood on yonder plains. A TRAGEDY. 57 Stand off ! forbear ! I would not take the lives Of those for whom I fought beneath that sun, Gone down ere while in crimson blushes wrapt, To hide him from your deed. — {The peasants fall back, then advance again iumultuously .] On your allegiance ! Ingratitude shames mercy from her softness ! {they fall back again.) Mistaken men ! what villain set you on ? Not of yourselves — ye men of Wessex! — no — Not of yourselves, — my countrymen ! my friends ! My fellow subjects !— and my fellow soldiers! Would ye attempt my life. I know you would not, I trust you ere ye speak. — {Peasants fall at his feet.) {Sheathing his sword.) Who set you on ? . Pea. A holy man declar'd you held at nought Our lives, our fortunes — and he bade us boldly By one great stroke secure them. — Eg. "Boldly?" fellow. Is midnight murder bold? oh, shame! away- Tis at his country s foe the Briton strikes, And thus secures the blessings ye have nam'd. Pea. Oh! pardon— generous prince! our lives are yours. Egb. (raising them.) Away, poor knaves, away ! ye were misled. I would not have the peering moon betray Some well-known aspect, and unwilling force me To do as justice points — I pardon you — Depart, — nor let me see you till in battle Ye on your country's foes redeem this deed. (As they are going off 'Bald red steals behind Egbert ivith uplifted weapon. Al/WYN rushing on him and seizing his arm.) I 58 INA, Ha ! treacherous villain ? no ! it cannot be A British breast I pierce ! die — traitor, die ! (stabs him!) Said, (falling.) Detested Alwyn ! — Is it thine — to wield — The threatened — bolt — of vengeance ! — Alw. Baldred's voice ? And didst thou wrap thee in the holy seeming Of peace and love for this ? for secret murder ? Eg. Unhappy Baldred ! how had I deserv'd Thy deadly hate ?— Bald. As does the sun — himself — The hate — of all — heav'ns glittering — host beside. And I — like them — would shun — thy hated — presence Wilt — wilt thou — still — embitter — deaths last pang, As thou hast poison'd — all — my course — of life. Eg. Yet live ! oh live ! accept my friendship, Baldred — My forgiveness ! — Bald. Forgiveness — from the man — I hate? Ye demons ! save me — from him — save — oh, save me ! (dies!) Alw. So may th' unerring vengeance of high heaven Still fall on those, who wrest the sacred cause To their dark purposes ! — Eg. Oh, Ina! Ina! Should this delay prove fatal ! on my friend ! (Exeunt.) SCENE III. Tlie King's Closet. Cen. (alone!) The midnight hour has tolFd ! I fain would rest. A TRAGEDY. 59 Sleep flies these aching eyes ! Why is it so? [he ruminates in a disturbed manner. It is not much that one be sacrific'd To stay the sword of war. Yet, ere I press The downy couch, a painful something here, I would compose by my accustom'd prayer. I never yet have laid me down to rest, UnofFer'd to high heav'n the past day's deeds. Why do I seem less ready now to bend The humble knee? If, for my people's weal, This woman's death ' — 'tis well — [he kneels. Yes I will kneel. I am alone with thee, my Maker! Thee! In whose sight all are equal — all thy creatures. [As he kneels down, In a enters softly behind with her Child, approaches unperceived as he speaks, and kneels beside him. Ina. No ; I am with thee, in thy Maker's pre- sence ! Like thee, his creature ! and, if true thou say'st, Thy equal in his sight. Cen. (with terror.) Protect me, heaven ! Ha ! is it past ? — Avaunt ! terrific vision ! Com'st thou to charge me with thy blood? Ina. No, king! I come to bow me at thy honour'd foot, And plead for thee, that thou wilt spare thyself. Oh ! spare thy age, nor rob it of its staff, The blameless conscience! Of its graceful ho- nours, Posterity ! and children's children's blessings ! Cen. Thou ! thou dost bar me from the joys thou nam'st. They will be mine when thou art in the grave. How did'st thou gain admittance at this hour? Who aided thee in this ! — his life shall pay — 12 60 IN A, Ina. 'Twas 1/e, to whom thou did'st pour forth the prayer. He gave to innocence unwonted courage, And- lent my -suit the winning grace it needed. He, whose voice heaves the sea, and stills the storm- Bade every cruel passion to subside ; And, as I pass'd, fashion'd each heart to pity. The gentle hand, unconscious of its act, Put back the pondrous bolt! — With noiseless; sweep The portal open'd, to admit a mother Bearing her orphan'd little one, to place him Beneath a grand sire's care, [presenting the child. Protect this child ! The heir of Wessex' throne ! Cen. I will not look on't. Away, and take it hence! — It dies with thee. Ina. Oh ! say not so ! Murder the rosy babe That smiles on thee? Thy age's stay and hope! Thou, who not yet in wantonness of power, Hast rioted in blood ! Not yet hast mock'd At nature's ties ! — -and at thy first essay To crimson thy hard hand with this ! thy own! Nay, tremble, tyrant ! tremble in thy turn Before a frantic mother! — Thou a father I Oh, yes! thou art, and father of a son, Whose infancy was dear as is this babe's. Then save my child, and let my life suffice. [Clinging to him* Cen. Away ! nor hang on me. Prepare for death ! Ina. I am prepar'd to meet death as become*. me ; Although 'tis hard to die, so young, so lov'd ! Thy Egbert, too, will find it hard to part. A TRAGEDY. 61 Cen. The short-liv'd pang will be forgotten soon. Ina. And was the pang so soon forgot by thee, To lose thy virtuous queen, my gracious mistress, Though 'twas by nature's hand matur'd for heav'n By a long life of happiness and love ! Not torn from thee, as must be Egbert's wife, In spring of bliss, but gently summon'd hence. Cen. No more of this. Fair Edelfleda's charms, With whom he weds — Ina. Oh ! never, never, king ! He will not long survive. — Thus Edelfleda Will be appeas'd, and peace once more restor'd. Then will this child — Oh, look on him King Ce- nulph ! Then will this child remind thee of thy son. Fear not to look : — he but resembles Eirbert. — He bears no feature of his wretched mother. His looks will waken none but grateful thoughts Of all that once was thine in Egbert's worth, Nor e'er remind thee of the deed of blood That stain'd thy long reign's close. Cen. I charge thee, hence ! Was't I who will'd thy death ! Ina. It was myself! And I am firm to die with honour, rather Than live with fame attainted. Sigiswold, My father, died with honour. Cen. (starting at the name.} Sigiswold! Ina. I am his daughter ! and like him I die For thee, and for thy people. — If his blood, His faithful blood, that at thy feet flowed forth, While thronging subjects hail'd thy rescu'd life! Have any claim upon a royal heart, (But, haply, nurs'd in soft prosperity, 62 INA, A king is not a man that he should pity !) Oh ! in my father's name — to thee — my father ! My Egbert's father, therefore mine, I sue. Cen. Away, thou syren ! I have sworn thy death. Ina. And I will die content — indeed I will, If thou wilt hear thy victim's dying prayer. Grant, grant, that I once more behold my hits* band ! Oh ! let thy Egbert once more see his child ! And bless him, once, once more! Oh ! let me see him, And parting, speak as holy wedded love, So rudely sever'd in its youthful prime, May prompt. This last, this sad, this little com- fort, Canst thou refuse to her whose father sav'd thee? A mother ! and a wife ! whose throbbing breast Thy hand so soon will still for ever? Cen. (groatis.) Oh ! Ina. Merciful God ! thou dost wipe off a tear ! Spite of thyself thou hast a father's heart! [eagerly pressing the child towards him. Look on thy Egbert's child, and let me hear, Ere yet, at day-break, I lay down my life, A grandsire's blessing pour'd upon his head ! [Cenulph snatches the child to his bosom, Ina contemplates them with rapture, then ivith trembling anxiety and hope. Father ! and shall I see my Egbert too ? Cen. Yes ! thou shalt see him — nor for thousand worlds Shalt thou be torn from him ! [embraces Iter and the child together with agonizing emotion— then Come Ethelbald ! A TRAGEDY. 68 In all thy terrors, come ! I am prepared — 1 and my children will defy thy rage. Edrecl. (behind the scenes.) Nay let me pass. Ye shall not stay my steps. Monarchs would wish their slumbers ever broken By tidings such as these! (entering) King Cenulph ! joy! TV invading host no longer threatens thee. While they advanc'd in insolence and pride, Dreaming of conquest, as the god of battles Prince Egbert came : — with skill, his powers di- viding, He rnsh'd upon the foe from every side. Disorder'd, broken, they but fell on death Where'er they turned. 'Tvvas one wide slaugh- ter all. Our brooks run crimson to th'aftrighted sea ! Our thirsty fallows drink of Mercian blood ! Countless the prisoners ! — Ethelbald is taken ! Cen. So ever shall it fare in after ages, With such as wound, with hostile foot, the bosom Of this fair isle, by jealous ocean guarded, The richest gem that sparkles on his breast, The cradle, and the throne of Liberty ! Enter Edelfleda. Egbert victorious ! — Ethelbald in chains ! And is it true ? and am I quite undone ? (Seeing Cenulph embrace Ina.)^ What sight is this that blasts the blessed sense Of vision ? doom'd to death a few hours since, Feeble old man, by thee and by thy council, I see her now, clasp'd in thy trembling arms, While tears of dotage o'er thy eye-balls swell. Stand I alone in the wide world?— no power That rules our fates to avenge or to protect mfe ? Then will I be protector to myself! £4 INA, My own avenger ! — independent — single — Supreme ! — though but in misery and guilt ! (She rushes to stab Ina. Cenulph seizes her arms, and the attendants surround her.) Cen. Guard her, Lord Oswald, with respect- ful care. — This frantic act was but the effect of grief. Ina. Soothe her, my lord. Who shall com- passionate Her soul's distracted state if Ina do not? Oh! use not harsh constraint, lest she should ' feel Too heavy on her heart her father's chains, — Her fortune's overthrow. — Edel. This ruffian grasp ! And think ye, sirs, ye hold some lawless hind By sordid rapine stain'd ? — -I am a princess ! A mighty monarch's daughter ! — though de- thron'd — • And sacred still my person ! — nay, unhand me. (they leave her.) See, I am tranquil, king ! — (To Ina.) nor trem- ble thou — One moment I forgot myself — no more — But to high heavn belongs to judge the faults Of royal souls ! — the royal soul itself, Heaven's best interpreter? — and royal hands Alone shall execute heav'ns just decree! (stabs herself?) Ina. Hold, hold her hand, Lord Oswald ! 'tis too late ! What hast thou done? Edel. To Mercia's wretched princess I have securd an honourable death ! — I could not live degraded ! — thou or I — Must yield! — 'tis mine — I will'd it so!— and now — A TRAGEDY. 05 (Which Edelfleda had not ask'd and liv'd — ) Thy pardon, Ina! — Ina. Oh! much-injur'd princess ! Thou pardon rather the unworthy Ina That happiness it now seems guilt to own ! Edel. These torpid pulses, with — mad passion throb — No longer — all — is calm — and cold— tell Eg- bert — I — dying — bless'd — your loves ! — I pray — you — both— Think — kindly — sometimes — kindly — speak — of me — Cen. Oh ! Edelfleda ! rash, unhappy maid ! Thy hand has dash'd from thee exalted good ; The good congenial to thy lofty spirit ! Seated on Mercia's throne, thy soul of love Had in a people's bliss secur'd thy own. Edel. No, monarch — no ; there is — no bliss — for one — Who — loving virtue, but — by passion — driven — - To worst — extremes — can never — never — more Honour — herself. — Oh ! let — the quiet — grave — Close o'er — my sorrows — and my — faults. That pang ! — And now — I rest — [Dies. Ina. Oh ! heavens ! her soul is fled ' Cen. Poor Edelfleda! Summon her attend- ants ! Good Bertha, bear her hence ; apply each means If yet a lingering breath of life Edred. My Liege, We fear some ill may have befallen Prince Egbert. Cen. Where is he ? Comes he not ? K 66 INA, Edrcd. There came a man, With vizor down. In breathless haste he came ; They spoke apart with gestures violent, And sudden sped together o'er the plain. Ina. 'Twas to his heart's dear home my Egbert sped ! He will be there ere we can reach it, father ! (She rushes out, Cenulph follows!) SCENE LAST. Ina's house. Enter Egbert and Alwyn hastily. Egb. I am here, my love ! they shall not tear thee from me ! Thy husband will defend thee from the world ! My love ! my wife ! where art thou ? Ahv. (alarmed.) My good lord, Strange silence reigns around. They sleep, per- haps — The menial train. The night is far advanced. I pray you rest you here : I will awake them. Haply thy Ina too— enjoys repose — For sleep will visit — suffering innocence. Egb. Haste thee, my friend, and rouse the drowsy sluggards. [Exit Alwyn. (Going to a door.) This is her chamber. Those lov'd eyes have wept, 'Till as the infant's they have clos'd in sleep. I'll enter softly, and will whisper peace ; Till, by degrees, she wake to the full sense Of all our joy. (He enters, and returns.) A TRAGEDY. 67 She is not there ! — Nor wife ! Nor child is there ! Nor Alice — all is still ! Where am I — (faultering.) (Starting.) Ina! —Is it possible? (With violence) My love ! my wife ! my Ina ! Enter Blanch. Egb. Where is thy mistress ? Blanch. Some hours have passd since she departed hence, With Alice and her infant, good my lord. Egb. (distracted.) Say how ? say whither? — Speak — be brief! Blanch. My lord, The guard and Osric waited on her steps ; With locks disheveld, wrapt in sable weeds, Weeping she went, alas! we know not whither. Egb. Hush ! speak no more — thy very word is death ! [Exit Blanch. (After a pause, in which he appears violently agitated.) Am I still living? Had we not one being ? Beats still my heart? and not responsive beats, In each pulsation, throb for throb to her's ? {With revived hope.) It cannot be : I yet shall find her (Sees the table, with the dagger, picture, S,c.) What see I here ? Her holy book of prayer ? A dagger plac'd beside it ! and my portrait, That never had forsook her lining bosom! The tokens of my love too !— Tyrant father,' And ye, ye men of blood ! (He wee She is with angels ! k 2 68 IN A. Yet still unblest without her Egbert ! Thus She summons me, and gives the means — and thus, Thus, my soul's love, thy husband follows thee. (As Ins hand is raised to stab himself, In a rushes into his arms.) Jna. I live ! my Egbert ! — See, I live ! I live ! (They embrace in speechless transport, while voices without shout " Egbert gmcMna.") Our king, our father, follows on my steps To fold, in one embrace, his happy children ! (&/«>■ Cenulph, $-c. Egbert kneels IoCexulph. Egb. My father ! my dear father f Thus re- ceive Thy faithful subject, and thy duteous son ! Cen. My son ! my noble son ! My gentle Ina ! (Embracirig both.) Oh ! what a load of pain this heart throws off, In this dear strict embrace. My children both ! (After a pause.) J)istrust ! thou worst disease of little minds! How found you entrance to a father's breast ? And father of a son whose glorious deeds Gild my late ev'ning with meridian splendour. (To Egbert.) Oh! may thy bosom ever own, as now, The generous confidence of noble souls That bears right onward, careless, though beset By envy, treason — all hell's darkest fiends ! And foils them all ! Domestic virtue still, Best pledge of public worth ! secure to thee Tiie trust of nations, and thy people's love! the curtain falls. EPILOGUE, By THOMAS MOORE, Esq. Last night, as lonely o'er my fire I sat, Thinking of cues, starts, exits, and — all that; And wondering much what little knavish sprite Had put it first in women's heads to write ; Sudden I saw — as in some witching dream — A bright blue Glory round my book-case beam ; From whose quick-opening folds of azure light, Out flew a tiny Form, as small and bright As Puck the Fairy, when he pops his head, Some sunny morning, from a violet bed : ' Bless me !' (I starting, cried) ' what Imp are you V- ' A small He-devil, ma'am — my name, Bas Bleu — 4 A bookish Sprite, much giv'n to routs and reading, ' Tis I who teach your spinster of high breeding • The reigning taste in chemistry and caps, c The last new bounds of tuckers and of maps ; ' And, when the waltz has twirl'd her giddy brain, ' With metaphysics twirl it back again !' I view'd him as he spoke — his hose were blue, His wings — the covers of the last Review — Cerulean, border'd with a jaundice hue, And tinsell'd gaily o'er, for evening wear, Till the next quarter brings a new-fledg'd pair. EPILOGUE. 1 Inspir'd by me ! (pursuM this waggish Fairy} 1 That best of wives and Sapphos, Lady Mary, • Votary alike of Crispin and the Muse, ' Makes her own splay-foot epigrams and shoes. * For me the eyes of young Camilla shine, * And mingle love's blue brilliancies with mine ; 1 For me she sits apart, from coxcombs shrinking, ' Looks wise, the pretty soul! and thinks she's thinking. ' Bv my advice, Miss Indigo attends ' Lectures on Memory, and assures her friends, ' *'Pon honour! (mimicks) nothing can surpass the plan • ' Of that Professor — (trying to recollect) psha! — that ' ' Memory-man, — | * * That— what's his name ? — him I attended lately — « ' 'Pon honour, he improved my memory greatly/ ' — Here, courtseying low, I ask'd the blue-legg'd sprite What share he had in this our play to-night ? « Nay, there,' he cried, ' there I am guiltless quite ; ' What! chuse a Heroine from that gothic time, ' When no one waltz'd, and none but monks could rhyme ; ' When lovely Woman, all unschool'd and wild, ♦ Blush'd without art, and without culture smil'd ; 1 Simple as flowers, while yet unclass'd they shone, ' Ere Science call'd their brilliant world her own, « Rang'd the wild rosy things in learned Orders, « And fill'd with Greek the garden's blushing borders !— < No — no — your gentle Inas will not do — 1 To-morrow evening, when the lights burn blue, ' I'll come— (pointing downwards) you understand— till • then, adieu !' And has the Sprite been here?— no— jests apart— Howe'er man rules in science and in art, The sphere of woman's glories is the heart ; And, if our Muse have sketch'd, with pencil true, The wife— the mother— firm, yet gentle too; — EPILOGUE. Whose soul, wrapp'd up in ties itself hath spun, Trembles, if touch'd in the remotest one ; — Who loves, — yet dares ev'n Love himself disown, When Honour's broken shaft supports his throne ;- If such our Ina, she may scorn the evils, Dire as they are, of Critics, and — Blue Devils !