Classic Poem

Enter E DRICK .

EDMUND.

What hath thy Lord, the Dane, to ask of Edmund?

EDRICK.

Hast thou forgot me?

EDMUND.

Thou wert once my brother,
But thou art now my foe.

EDRICK.

How just thy taunts!
Give vent to thy upbraidings. Curse me, Edmund;
I have deserv'd it all.

EDMUND.

I'll not reproach thee.
Language can never paint my wrongs.

EDRICK.

I own it,
The vile offender owns it. Mercy! Mercy!

EDMUND.

Off, Hypocrite! What, would'st thou have my life?
Mean'st, thou to bind and sell me to the Dane?
Mercy disclaims a wretch like thee.

EDRICK.

Yet Heaven
Is won by deep repentance, and — —

EDMUND.

Repentance?
It claims no power o'er such obdurate hearts.
He, that could cause and see his country's ruin,
Can never feel contrition.

EDRICK.

Tort'ring guilt!

EDMUND.

Hast thou forgot thy Father? Sure the thought
Of what he suffer'd, from these rude invaders,
Might nerve thy soul to vengeance. Thou didst see him
Sink 'neath a weight of unexampled sorrows.
A royal, aged vagabond. Go, Edrick,
Join with his foes. Go, trample on his ashes,
And be a monster.

EDRICK.

That I've ruin'd thee,
Distracts me most.

EDMUND.

Would Heaven, that crime were all!
So might the shameful record be expung'd,
And our divided hearts unite again.
But thou hast ruin'd Britain, — spoil'd her hopes;
E'en in the happy hour of Victory,
Giv'n her to sharp Oppression and the Dane.
How many nobles ask from thee their sons!
Think how they died, slain in the morn of life.
Think of their early virtues, — and despair.

EDRICK.

Since nought but Death can expiate my crimes,
Oh! Edmund, once the most humane of men,
Curse not thy Brother, and he dies before thee!
Grief cannot palliate treachery like mine.
And yet to tell my agony of soul,
My trembling tongue denies.

EDMUND.

Unhappy man!

EDRICK.

Dost thou then pity me? Oh! generous Edmund!
Thy pity here is sweet. Where shall I look?
If on the past, what see I but thy love
And my misdeeds? If on the present, what
But hooting Scorn and cloudy Infamy?
If on the future, ha! 'tis death to think,
Uncancell'd guilt and Heaven's impetuous wrath.
No Friend! — No pleading Angel! — Nature sinks.
My brain turns round! Can I bear this and live?
Thou who hast kept thy honest faith secure,
Preserve it still, nor be undone like me.

CEFRID.

The King relents. By heaven, a tear of pity
Stands in his eye.

EDMUND.

Cefrid, he wrings my soul!

EDRICK.

My soldiers, from the Danish camp detach'd,
Now march with willing ardor to rejoin thee.
Receive, — forgive them. To thy Brother's baseness
Impute their fault, and let his vital blood
Atone for all.

EDMUND.

Live — keep thy blood for Britain.
Live to erase the mem'ry of thy fall.
Rush not on Death, thus, with uncleansed heart.
He prays: O Mercy, hear!

EDRICK.

Dost thou not hate me?

EDMUND.

Wilt thou by future deeds deserve my love?

EDRICK.

I do not merit trust; yet will I be
The man, thy soul delights in, suffering patient
The leader's cares, the sun-burnt soldier's labours.

EDMUND.

Yet, e'er I join thee, to my panting breast,
Declare, whence springs this change. Is it revenge
For some rude insult suffer'd from the Dane?
Or comes thy agony from true contrition?
Me, Edrick, thou again may'st wrong, but Heaven
Beholds thy deeds. Wake not its utmost wrath
By daring on reiterated crimes.

EDRICK.

I do deserve distrust. Oh! that my breast
Were now disclos'd to thy discerning eye,
So should I find an access to thy heart.

EDMUND.

Too well thou know'st the way to Edmund's heart,
Nor can I marvel, since 'twas ever thine.
Think then how bitterly thy falsehood pain'd me.
Of this, no more: be thy misdeeds forgot;
Or but remember'd, as a maniac's raving,
To be a theme for constant gratitude,
When sense long absent, wish'd-for guest, returns.
But let thy Edmund take thee in his arms.
I have forgiv'n thee: Rise — intreat no more.

EDRICK.

This is unhoped for goodness.

EDMUND.

Rev'rend Cefrid!
You, who with me, have wept my Brother's loss,
Partake the transport his return bestows.

CEFRID.

Him, that resolves to tread the paths of honor,
Cefrid will hold most dear.

EDRICK.

Spoke like a Briton!
Oh! that I ne'er had lost that glorious name.
Would the contested Earldom, that inflam'd me
With rage and envy, had been sunk in earth!
Yet when I waken'd from the hellish dream,
The tygress, howling for her ravish'd young,
Was far less furious. For my peace, my honour,
The pride of virtue, and the boast of birth,
Were lost — for ever lost.

EDMUND.

Say not for ever.
Cancel thy falsehood, by superior truth,
And I will hold thee to my heart again
With confidence and love.

EDRICK.

'Noblest of men!
Give but the blest occasion, and this sword,
By thee diverted from this contrite bosom,
Shall strew the field with Danish carcases.

EDMUND.

Thy merit shall be prov'd. Scorning defeat,
Again this day my Britons shine in arms.
Determin'd race! to the last pause of life,
Safely they guard their liberties and laws.
Again, my Friend, my dauntless courage glows:
Edrick is mine. Now, Denmark, I defy thee.
His kindred arm shall guard his Brother's side.
Go first, and to the Minister of Heaven
Confess thy sault, and kneel for benediction.

EDRICK.

Bless'd, in thy love, my heart o'erflows with joy.
Since Edmund pardons, what can Edrick fear?

EDMUND.

Thou, gallant Cefrid, hasten to thy troops;
Inflame their courage. Tell them, Edrick's our's,
And Denmark rest of all, that England fear'd.
Instant I'll lead them to the glorious combat.

Enter K ENELM .

What means thy quick return?

KENELM.

My Liege, the troops
Of Edrick have revolted from the Dane,
And hak within our out-works. In the Castle,
A Danish Nobleman is just arrived.
He bears a Flag of Truce, and says his business
Is with the King.

EDMUND.

Comes he to claim submission?
To bid me yield this remnant of my power?
No! he shall trample first on Edmund's corse.