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Yea, curdled thick this mass of blood within me.

Full fifty breathless bodies struck my sight,

And some with gaping mouths did seem to mock me,

Whilst others smiling in cold death itself,

Scoffingly bad me look on that, which soon

Wou'd wrench from off my brow this sacred crown,

And make me too a subject, like themselves;

Subject! to whom? To thee, O sovereign death!

Who hast for thy domain this world immense;

Church-yards and charnel-houses are thy haunts,

And hospitals thy sumptuous palaces,

And when thou would'st be merry, thou dost chuse

The gaudy chamber of a dying King.

O! then thou dost ope wide thy hideous jaws,

And with rude laughter, and fantastic tricks,

Thou clap'st thy rattling fingers to thy sides;

And when this solemn mockery is ended,

With icy had thou tak'st him by the feet,

And upward so, till thou dost reach the heart,

And wrap him in the cloak of lasting night.

BARON.

Let not, my lord! your thoughts sink you thus low,

But be advis'd, for should your gallant troops

Behold you thus, they might fall sick with fear.

Enter an Officer.

OFFICER.

My lord! my lord!

VORTIGERN.

Wherefore dost tremble thus, paper-fac'd knave!

What news shou'd make thee break thus rudely in?

OFFICER.

Indeed, indeed, I fear to tell you, Sir.

VORTIGERN.

Speak, vassal, speak! my soul defies thy tongue.

OFFICER.

Your newly married Queen--

VORTIGERN.

Speak, what of her?

OFFICER.

My lord, she hath ta'en poision, and is dead.

VORTIGERN.

Nay, shrink not from me now, be not afraid,

There, lie my sword! and with it all my hopes.

LORD.

Yet we may hope--

VORTIGERN.

O! friend, let not thy tongue delude with hope,

Too long against the Almighty have I fought.

Hope now is vain--I will not hear of it.

OFFICER.

Yet is the breach not made, and we are strong,

Still we may out, my lord, and beat them off.

VORTIGERN.

Can wicked souls e'er stand before the just;

Can strength outweigh the mighty hand of God?

No, no, never, never--O! repentance,

Why dost thou linger thus to ask admittance?

Thou com'st, alas! too late, thou'rt stale and nauseous.

Where, where is now the good old murder'd King?

In fields of bliss, where guilty souls ne'er come.

Enter another Officer.

SECOND OFFICER.

All, all is lost, the post is ta'en by storm;

The breach is made, they pour in fast upon us.

VORTIGERN.

If it be so, then will I out and die;

Now aid, ye gods! but if ye will not hear,

E'en then on hell I call again for succour!

My friends have boldly stemm'd this tide of war,

And shall I flinch at last and play the woman?

Let any but Aurelius meet my arm,

And this my sword shall ope a gate so wide,

That the imprison'd soul shall take its flight,

And either seek the murder'd King above,

Or down and join me in the pit below.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Basse-Court of the Tower.

Enter AURELIUS and UTER.

UTER.

Where, brother, are the sons of Vortigern?

AURELIUS.

I bade them with their gentle mother stay,

For much 'twould have offended righteous Heav'n,

If 'gainst their father they had join'd with us.

For here there always is a sacred tie,

Which suffers not a son's unlifted hand,

To strike a father, be he ne'er so vile.

Did he not give him birth, and nourish him?

And when thy direst foe becomes thy slave,

Say, shouldst thou use revenge? No, rather shame him

With pity and all-softening charity;

Then on a golden bed thou lay'st thy soul,

And art on earth a blessed angel.

UTER.

Brother, I do commend thee for this deed,

Worthy a Prince, worthy a Briton too.

But come! now, for this tyrant Vortigern!

Enter Officer.

AURELIUS.

What's the news?

OFFICER.

Th' ill fated King doth flee tow'rds Cæsar's Tow'r,

And half his troops have fall'n into our hands.

AURELIUS.

Did ye obey mine orders?

OFFICER.

Aye, my good lord, in ev'ry circumstance.

AURELIUS.

Then Uter look, you march towards that same tow'r;

Let me, ye gods! but meet with this vile traitor,

And shou'd his soul not shrink beneath this sword,