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But hast thou a heart for melting pity?

For better a brute,--

Than lack it under that most godlike form:

And yet I do thee wrong,--for even now

Thou didst add graces to that manly cheek,

With scalding tears! and for whom do you this?

For one that neither asks, nor merits it.

Enter WORTIMERUS and CATAGRINUS.

WORTIMERUS.

How doth she now?

PASCENTIUS.

Alas! she wanders yet, her mind's diseas'd.

FLAVIA.

I am that maiden lost, your loving daughter.

EDMUNDA.

Bring here my glasses, stand before me here!

Now, now, I'll judge thee well, I'll see this straight,

And first her look was mild, in this thou'lt do;

Then she was kind, most excellent, and good,

Well, and so seemest thou; now for the last,

O! her heart was,--but thine I cannot see,

There thou deceivest me, I know thee not.

Yet if thou be my daughter,

On thy forehead is a mark,--

Away then with those locks from off thy front:

Now, let me look! O! gods, 'tis she, 'tis she.

PASCENTIUS.

She faints, she faints! this shock is too afflicting

For her poor shatter'd, and disabled frame.

FLAVIA.

O! dearest, kindest, and most gentle mother.

EDMUNDA.

Indeed, my brain is something cooler now,

I shou'd know you, Sir, and you too, nay all!

I'm very faint, alas, this joy o'ercomes me!

FLAVIA.

Sweet mother, you need rest, we'll lead you in.

EDMUNDA.

Then be it so, and wilt thou sit and watch me?

FLAVIA.

Aye, and I'll kneel and pray, and sometimes weep.

EDMUNDA.

Lead then, I'll in to rest, come follow me.

[Exeunt.

Enter AURELIUS and UTER.

AURELIUS.

The breach is made, the southern gate is forc'd,

Yet still doth he hold out, and hath ta'en flight

E'en to the tower, and there he'll wait the siege.

UTER.

Aurelius, your fair prisoner is no more.

AURELIUS.

How say'st thou?

UTER.

Rowena hath ta'en poison and is dead.

AURELIUS.

Then hath a wicked soul taken its flight

From the most lovely frame that e'er was form'd,

To charm or to deceive.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Cæsar's Tower.

Enter First Baron and Officer.

BARON.

Is the King yet safe?

OFFICER.

He is, my lord.

BARON.

Are many troops with us?

OFFICER.

Two thousand full well arm'd; and braver men

Ne'er buckled on their limbs the glitt'ring steel.

O! what a fight it was to see the King.

No sooner had he reach'd the bridge, but firm,

And with a voice that wrung each coward heart,

He hail'd them to come on. Here then he stood,

In his right hand griping his massy ax,

Whilst with the left he held the brazen chain,--

Nor did he budge until each hardy soldier

Safely within the walls had entered.

Then waving thrice his cased hand in air,

And with a nod that spread pale fear around,

And seem'd to animate his bloody plume,

Triumphantly he bad them all defiance;

Then slowly turning with a horrid frown,

Soldiers, he cry'd, soldiers! break down the draw-bridge.

Like hail, in flight we pour'd on them our arrows,

Until their blood had stain'd the moat around us,--

But look, my lord, here comes the King.

Enter VORTIGERN.

VORTIGERN.

Why stand ye here, like folks, catching the air

What! think ye this to be your mistress' chamber?

BARON.

My gracious Prince, we wait your orders here.

VORTIGERN.

Then fight I say.

Go get ye hence.--

BARON.

I go.

VORTIGERN.

No, no, thou must stay here, thou'rt my sole prop;

I sicken fast, and 'gin again to flag.

Pour forth, I pray thee now, some flatt'ring words,

For I am weary, and my lamp of life

Doth sadly linger, and wou'd fain go out,

For look you, my poor soul is sore diseas'd.

BARON.

Courage, my noble Sir.--

VORTIGERN.

Time was, alas! I needed not this spur.

But here's a secret, and a stinging thorn,

That wounds my troubled nerves, O! conscience! conscience!

When thou didst cry, I strove to stop thy mouth,

By boldy thrusting on thee dire ambition,

Then I did think myself indeed a god!

But I was sore-deceiv'd, for as I pass'd,

And travers'd in proud triumph the Basse-court,

There I saw death clad in most hideous colours,

A sight