Seof. They come, my Lord.

King. Look to him well; for, by yon

Thy Life fhall pay for his, if he escape:

[Shout

dreadful Altars,

First kill him, plunge thy Poinard in his Bofom,
And fee thy King reveng'd.

[Exe. King, Seofrid, Guards and Attendants.

Prieft. Be chear'd, my Lord,

Nor keep one Doubt of me; I am your Slave.
The King is fled, and with him all your Dangers.
Fate has referv'd you for fome glorious Purpose;
And fee, your Guardian Goddess comes to fave you,
To break your Bonds, and make you ever happy.

Enter Rodogune, Soldiers, and other Attendants. Rodo. Well have our Arms prevail'd: Behold, he lives, Ungrateful as he is, by me he lives.

Do I not come with too officious Hafte,

[To Aribert,
Once more to press the Burthen, Life upon you?'
To offer, with an Ideot's Importunity,
The nauseous Benefit you fcorn'd before?

Ari. If I refus'd the Bleffing from your Hands,
Think it not rudely done with fullen Pride;
Since Life and you are two of Heav'ns beft Gifts,
Yet both should be receiv'd, both kept with Honour.
Rodo. However live-yes, I will bid thee live,
No matter, what enfues. Fly far away,

Forget me, blot my Name from thy Remembrance,
And think thou ow'ft me nothing- -What! in Bonds!
Well was the Task referv'd for me. But thus

I break thy Chain-Would I could break my own. [Afide Enter an Officer.

Officer. A Party of our Horse, that late went forth

To mark the Order of the Britons Camp,

Met

Met in their course fome Servants of the King;

For fo they call'd themselves. Ours judg'd 'em Traitors,
And would have feiz'd, as flying to the Foc.
After a fharp Refistance some escap'd,

The reft, for fo your Princely Brother wills,
Without attend your Order.

Rodo. Let 'em enter.

A Woman!-

Enter Ethelanda, and two Attendants, guarded. Ethel. Is there then an End of Sorrows!

[Running to Aribert. Has then that cruel Chance that long pursu'd me, That vext me with her various Malice long, Been kind at last, and bleft me to my Wish, Lodg'd me once more within thy faithful Arms!

Ari. Oh my foreboding Heart! Oh fatal Meeting! Ethel. Why droops my Love, my Lord, my Aribert ? Why doft thou figh and press me? and oh! wherefore, ] Wherefore thefe Tears that ftain thy manly Visage? They told me Heav'n had ftrove for thy Deliverance, Had rais'd thee up some kind, some great Preferver,

To fave thee from thy cruel Brother's Hand.

Why therefore do'ft thou mourn, when thou art bleft? Or does fome new Affliction wound thee? Say: Perhaps I am the Caufe.

Rodo. By all the Tortures,

The Pangs that rend my groaning Breaft, 'tis fhe,
My curft, my happy Rival. See the Syren,
See how with eager Eyes he drinks her Charms,
Mark how he liftens to her fweet Allurements;
She winds her felf about his eafie Heart,
And melts him with her foft enchanting Tongue.
Ethel. Wo't thou not answer yet?

Ari. Oh Ethelinda!

Why art thou here? Is this the Britons Camp?
Is Lucius here? Haft thou a Brother here,
To guard thy helplefs Innocence from Wrong?
Ethel. Have I not thee?

Ari. Me!

-what can I do for thee?

For we are wretched both.

Rodo. I'll doubt no more.

My jealous Heart confeffes her its Foe,
And beats and rifes, eager to oppofe her;

Nor fhall fhe Triumph o'er me. No, ye Gods!

If I am doom'd by you to be a Wretch,

She too Thall fuffer with me. Prince, you feem [To Arib.
To know this Pris'ner, whom the Saxon Chiefs
Accufe of flying to our Foes, the Britons,
However, I will think more nobly of you,
Than to believe you confcious of the Treafon;
Nor can you grieve, if Juftice dooms her to
That Fate fhe has deferv'd. Bear her to Death.

Ethel. Alas! to Death!. what

[To the Guards: What mean you? fay, by

Unknown, unwilling Crime have I offended?
To you, fair Princess, fince 'tis you that judge me,
Tho' now this Moment to my Eyes first known,
I bend, to you I will appeal,

Το

you

And learn my Crime from you.

Ari. Learn it from me;

I am thy Crime, 'tis Aribert destroys thee.

[Kneeling,

Ethel. If thou art my Offence I've finn'd indeed,

Ev'n to a vaft and numberless Account;

For from the Time when I beheld thee first, [To Aribert My Soul has not one Moment been without thee;

Still

Still thou haft been my Wifh, my conftant Thought,
Like Light, the daily Bleffing of my Eyes,

And the dear Dream of all my fweetest Slumbers,
Rodo. Oh the diftracting Thought!

Ethel. Nor will you think it

[To Rodogune

A Crime to love, for that I love is true.
In your fair Eyes I read your native Goodness.
Hap❜ly fome noble Youth fhall in your Breaft
Kindle the pure, the gentle Flame, and prove
As dear to you, as Aribert to me.

Would it be just that you should die for loving?
Think but on that, and I fhall find your Pity;
For Pity fure and Mercy dwell with Love.

Rodo. Be dumb for ever, let the Hand of Death
Close thy bewitching Eyes, and feal thy Lips,
That thou mayft look and talk no more Delufion.
For oh! thy ev'ry Glance, each Sound shoots thro' me,
And kills my very Heart. Hence, bear her hence.
My Peace is loft for ever-but he dies.-

Ari. Oh hold! for

Rodo. Wherefore dost thou catch my Garment? Thou that haft fet me on the Rack; com'ft thou To double all my Pains, and with new Terrors, Dreadful, to shake my agonizing Soul?

Ari. What fhall I fay to move thee?

Rodo. Talk for ever,

Winds shall be still, and Seas forget to roar,

The Din of babling Crowds, and peopled Cities,

All fhall be hush'd as Death, while thou art speaking,

For there is Musick in thy Voice.

Ari. Then hear me;

With gentleft Patience, with Compaffion hear me,
Thus while I fall before thee, grafp thee thus,

Thus

Thus, with a bleeding Heart, and ftreaming Eyes,
Implore thee for my Ethelinda's Life.

Rodo. Tho' thou wert dearer to my doating Eyes
Than all they knew besides, tho' I could hear thee
While Ages paft away; yet, by the Gods,

If fuch there are, who rule o'er Love and Jealoufie,
And fwell our heaving Breafts with mortal Paffions,
I swear fhe dies, my hated Rival dies.

Ari. Then I have only one Request to make,
Which fha' not be deny'd; to fhare one Fate,
And die with her I love.

Rodo. Ungrateful Wretch!

Yet I would make thy Life my Care

Ari. No more:

Now I fcorn Life indeed. Tho' you had Beauty,
More than the great Creator's bounteous Hand
Beftow'd on all his various Works together,
Tho' all Ambition asks, the kingly Purple,

Glory, and Wealth, and Pow'r, were yours to give,"
Tho' length of Days, and Health were in your Hand,
And all were to be mine, yet I would chufe
To turn the Gift with Indignation back,
And rather fold my Ethelinda thus,

And fleep for ever with her in the Grave.

Rodo. Then take thy Wifh, and let both die together. Yes, I will tear thee out from my Remembrance, And be at Eafe for ever.

Ethel. Oh my Love!

What can I pay thee back for all this Truth?
What? but, like thee, to triumph in my Fate,
And think it more than Life to die with thee.
Hafte then, ye Virgins, break the tender Turf,
And let your
chafter Hands prepare the Bed,

Where