And make thee mourn my Coldness and Difdain. Ari. They bind her! fee!› See with rude Cords they strain her tender Limbs, me, Nor fear the Weakness of my Woman's Soul, For I am arm'd, and equal to the Combat. The free, impaffive Soul mounts on the Wing, Enter an Officer. Offic. Arm, Royal Maid, and take to your Defence: The King with fudden Fury fallies forth, And, drives our utmost Guards with foul Confufion. Rodo. The King! What Frenzy brings the Madman on Thus headlong to his Fate ? But let him come, His Death fhall fill my Triumph-Wealth and Ho nours, The nobleft, beft Reward, fhall wait the Man, Enter Enter a fecond Officer, his Sword drawn. Second Offic. Hengift is here; he bears down all before him: The Britons too have join'd their Arms to his, And this way bend their Force.. Rodo. Fly to my Brother, And call him to our Aid. [To her Attendants. [Shout within, and clashing of Swords.. King within.] Slave, give me way, Or I will tear thy Soul Sold, within.] You pass not here. Seof. within.] What, know'st thou not the King? oh curfed Villain! Enter the King wounded, Seofrid, Ofwald and Soldiers, with their Swords drawn. Ofwald runs to Aribert. Seof. Perdition on his Hand-you bleed, my Lord! So near my Wish-Lend me thy Arm, old Seofrid, Your holy Trumpery fhall blaze together. [They unbind Ethelinda Rodo. 'Tis vain to rave and curfe my Fortune now," Thou native Greatness of my Soul befriend me, And help me now to bear it as I ought. King King. The feeble Lamp of Life fhall lend its Blaze, To light me thus far-only-and no farther. [Falling at Ethelinda's Feet. Yet I look up, and gaze on those bright Eyes, Ethel. Alas! you faint! your hafty Breath comes And the red Stream runs gufhing from your Breaft. And fadly deprecate the Wrath Divine. King. Oh! my fair Teacher, you advise in vain:]) The Gods and I have done with one another. This Night I meant to rival them in Happiness. King. But 'tis gone: Those envious Gods Have done their worst, and blafted all my Hopes; Thee they have robb'd me of my Joys in thee - Have trod me down to wither in the Grave.. Seof. My Mafter, and my King! King. Old Man, no more: I have not leifure for thy Grief- - Farewel Thou, Aribert fhalt live, and wear my Crown Take it, and be as curft with it as I was. That That in it that's too much. The World has nothing So good to give---the next may have---I know not My Soul is husht, it finks into a Calm, And takes fure Omen of its Peace from thee. Ofw. To end your Doubts, your Brother, the brave Lucius, [To Ethelinda Will foon be here: Ev'n now he fends me Word, Fierce Offa and his Saxons fly before him; The conqu'ring Britons fence you round from Danger, And Peace and Safety wait upon your Loves. Ari. Nor you, fair Princess, frown upon our Happi nefs. Still fhall my grateful Heart retain your Goodness, Arts, That cheat our Eyes, and wound our eafie Hearts; falfe Curft Curft may you be for all the Pains you give, And for the scanty Pleasures we receive; your By which you bend, and force us to obey. [Exit Rodogune. Ofw. The Winds shall scatter all thofe idle Curses Far, far away from you, while ev'ry Bleffing Attends to crown you. From your happy Nuptials, From Royal Aribert, of Saxon Race, Join'd to the Fairest of the British Dames, Methinks I read the Peoples future Happiness; A venerable, old, and Saint-like Hermit, From |