But yet, my Prince, forgive your faithful Ofwald,
If he believes you melt with too much Tenderness;
Your noble Heart forgets its native Greatness,
And finks in Softnefs, when you languish thus ;
Thus figh and murmur but for fix Days Absence.

Ari. Chide not; but think if e'er, when thou wert

young,

Thou lovd'ft thy felf, how thou wert wont to judge

Of Time, of Love, of Abfence and Impatience.
What! fix long Days, and never write nor fend,
Tho' Ademar and Kenwald, faithful both,
Were left behind, to bring me Tidings from her:\
How, Ethelinda! how haft thou forget me!

Of. Perhaps I err; but if the Pain be fuch,
Why is the Fair One, who alone can ease it,
Thus far divided from your longing Arms?
'Twere better ne'er to part, than thus to mourn.
Ari. Oh Ofwald! is there not a fatal Cause?
Thou know'ft my Ethelinda-

Of. Is a Chriftian;

A Name by Saxons, and their Gods, abhorr❜d.
To me her differing Faith imports not much;
'Tis true indeed, bred to my Country's Manners,
I worship as my Fathers did before me.

Unpractis'd in Difputes, and wrangling Schools,
I seek no farther Knowledge, and so keep

My Mind at Peace, nor know the Pain of doubting;
What others think I judge not of too nicely,

But hold, all honeft Men are in the right.

Ari. Then know yet more; for my whole Breaft is thine, Ev'n all my fecret Soul: I am a Chriftian.

'Tis wonderful to tell; for oh, my Ofwald,

I liften'd to the Charmer of my Heart.

Still,

Still, as the Night that fled away, I fate,
I heard her with an Eloquence divine,
Reason of holy and myfterious Truths;

Of Heavn's most righteous Doom, of Man's Injuftice;
Of Laws to curb the Will, and bind the Paffions;

Of Life, of Death, and Immortality;

Of gnashing Fiends beneath, and Pains Eternal;
Of starry Thrones, and endless Joy above.
My very Soul was aw'd, was shook within me;
Methought I heard diftinct, I saw most plain,
Some Angel, in my Ethelinda's Form,

Point out my Way to everlasting Happiness.
Ofw. 'Tis wonderful indeed; and yet great Souls,
By Nature half divine, foar to the Stars,
And hold a near Acquaintance with the Gods.
And oh, my Prince, when I furvey thy Virtue,
I own the Seal of Heav'n imprinted on thee;
I ftand convinc'd that good and holy Powers
Infpire and take Delight to dwell within thee.
Yet Crowds will still believe, and Priefts will teach,
As wandring Fancy, and as Int'reft leads.

How will the King and our fierce Saxon Chiefs
Approve this Bride and Faith? Had Royal Hengift,
Thy Father, liv'd!.

Ari. 'Tis on that Rock we perish;

Thou bring'ft his dreadful Image to my Thoughts,
And now he ftands before me, ftormy, fierce,
Imperious, unrelenting, and to Death

Tenacious of his Purpose once refoly❜d.

Juft fuch he seems, as when fevere and frowning
He forc'd the King my Brother, and my felf,
To kneel and fwear at Woden's cruel Altar,
Firft, never to forgo our Country's Gods;

Then

Then made us vow with deepest Imprecations,
If it were either's Fortune e'er to wed,

Never to chufe a Wife among the Christians.
Ofw. Have you not fail'd in both?

Ari. 'Tis true, I have;

But for a Caufe fo juft, fo worthy of me,`

That not t'have fail'd in both, had been t'have fail'd.

Yes, Ofwald, by the confcious Judge within,

So do I ftand acquitted to my felf,

That were my Ethelinda free from Danger,
On Peril of my Life I would make known,
And to the World avow my Love and Faith.

Ofw. I dare not, nay 'tis fure I cannot blame you;
You are the fecret Worship of my Soul,

To me so perfect, that you cannot err.

But oh! my Prince, let me conjure you now,
By that most faithful Service I've still paid you,
By Love, and by the gentle Ethelinda,

Be cautious of your Danger, reft in Silence.
In holy Matters, Zeal may be
your Guide,
And lift you on her flaming Wings to Heav'n;
But here on Earth truft Reason, and be safe.

Ari. 'Tis true, the prefent angry Face of Things
Befpeaks our coolest Thoughts: The British King,
Ambrofius arms, and calls us forth to Battel,
Demanding back the fruitful Fields of Kent,
By Vortigern to Royal Hengift giv'n;

A mean Reward for all thofe Saxons Lives
Were loft, in propping Britain's finking State.
Ofw. The War with Britain is a diftant Danger,
Nor to be weigh'd with our domeftick Fears.
Young Offa, chief among our Saxon Princes,
Who at the King's Entreaty friendly came

* From

From Northern Jutland, and the Banks of Elbe,
With twice ten thousand Warriors to his Aid,
Frowns on our Court, complains aloud of Wrongs,
And wears a publick Face of Discontent.

Ari. 'Tis faid he is offended, that the King
Delays to wed his Sifter.

Ofw. 'Twas agreed,

'Twas made the firft Condition of their Friendship,
And fworn with all the Pomp of Priefts and Altars,
That beauteous Rodogune fhou'd be our Queen:
Then wherefore this Delay? The Time was fix'd,
The Feaft was bid, and Mirth proclaim'd to all;
The Croud grew jovial with the hopes of Holy-days,
And each, according to our Country's Manner,
Provok'd his Fellow with a friendly Bowl,

And blefs'd the Royal Pair; when on the Morn,
The very Morn that fhould have join'd their Hands,
The King forbad the Rites..

Ari. Two Days are paft,

Nor has my Brother yet difclos'd the Caufe.
Laft Night, at parting from him, he stopt fhort,
Then catch'd my Hand, and with a troubled Accent,
With Words that spoke like fecret Shame and Sorrow,
He told me he had fomething to impart,
And wish'd that I would wait him in the Morning,
Ofw. But fee, Prince Offa and his beauteous Sister!
The King's most favour'd Counsellor, old Seofride,
Is with 'em too.

Ari. Retire; I would not meet 'em.

That Princess, Ofwald, is esteem'd a Wonder.
To me the feems most fair; and yet, methinks,
Do'st thou not mark? there is I know not what
Of fullen and fevere, of fierce and haughty,

That

That pleases not, but awes; I gaze astonish'd,

And Fear prevents Desire.

So Men tremble,

When Light'ning fhoots in glittering Trails along:
It fhines, 'tis true, and gilds the gloomy Night;
But where it strikes, 'tis fatal.

[Exeunt Aribert and Ofwald.

Enter Offa, Rodogune, Seofrid, and Attendants.

Offa. By Woden, no! I will not think he meant it; Revenge had elfe been fwift.

So high I hold
The Honour of a Soldier and a King,

I wo'not think your Mafter meant to wrong me.
Let him beware, however!-jealous Friendship,
And Beauty's tender Fame, can brook no Slights.
What in a Foe I pardon or despise,

Is deadly from a Friend, and fo to be repaid.
Seof. Whatever Fame or ancient Story tells,
Of Brother's Love, or celebrated Friends,
Whofe Faith, in Perils oft, and oft in Death,
Severely had been try'd, and never broke,
Such is the Truth, and fuch the grateful Mind
Of Royal Hengift to the Princely Offa.
Nor you, fair Princess, frown, if Wars and Troubles,
[To Rodogune
If watchful Councils, and if Cares, which wait
On Kings, the Nurfing-Fathers of their People,
With-hold a while the Monarch from your Arms.
Rodo. When fierce Ambrofius leads the Britains forth
Thunders in Arms, and fhakes the dufty Field,
It fuits thy wary Master's Caution well
To fit with dreaming hoary Heads at Council,
And waste the Midnight Taper in Debates.
But let him ftill be wife, confult his Safety,

And