SCENE II.--_A Pavilion.

_Enter_ EMMELINE, _led by_ MATILDA.

_Em._ No news of my dear love, or of my father?

_Mat._ None, madam, since the gaining of the battle. Great Arthur is a royal conqueror now, And well deserves your love.

_Em._ But now I fear He'll be too great, to love poor silly me, If he be dead, or never come again, I mean to die. But there's a greater doubt, Since I ne'er saw him here,-- How shall I meet him in another world?

_Mat._ I have heard something, how two bodies meet; But how souls join, I know not.

_Em._ I should find him, For surely I have seen him in my sleep; And then methought he put his mouth to mine, And eat a thousand kisses on my lips. Sure by his kissing I could find him out, Among a thousand angels in the sky.

_Mat._ But what a kind of man do you suppose him?

_Em._ He must be made of the most precious things; And I believe his mouth, and eyes, and cheeks, And nose, and all his face, are made of gold.

_Mat._ Heaven bless us, madam, what a face you make him! If it be yellow, he must have the jaundice, And that's a bad disease.

_Em._ Why then do lovers give a thing so bad As gold to women, whom so well they love?

_Mat._ Because that bad thing, gold, buys all good things.

_Em._ Yet I must know him better: Of all colours, Tell me which is the purest, and the softest.

_Mat._ They say, 'tis black.

_Em._ Why, then, since gold is hard, and yet is precious, His face must all be made of soft, black gold.

_Mat._ But, madam,----

_Em._ No more; I have learned enough for once.

_Mat._ Here are a crew of Kentish lads and lasses Would entertain ye, till your lord's return, With songs and dances, to divert your cares.

_Em._ O bring them in; For, though I cannot see the songs, I love them; And love, they tell me, is a dance of hearts.

_Enter Shepherds and Shepherdesses._

1 Shepherd sings.

_How blest are shepherds, how happy their lasses, While drums and trumpets are sounding alarms! Over our lowly sheds all the storm passes; And when we die, 'tis in each others arms. All the day on our herds and flocks employing; All the night on our flutes, and in enjoying._

Chor. _All the day_, &c.

_Bright nymphs of Britain, with graces attended, Let not your days without pleasure expire; Honour's but empty, and, when youth is ended, All men will praise you, but none will desire; Let not youth fly away without contenting; Age will come time enough for your repenting._

Chor. _Let not youth_, &c. [Here the Men offer their Flutes to the Women, which they refuse.

2 Shepherdess.

_Shepherd, shepherd, leave decoying, Pipes are sweet a summer's day; But a little after toying, Women have the shot to pay. Here are marriage-vows for signing, Set their marks that cannot write; After that, without repining, Play, and welcome, day and night._ [Here the Women give the Men Contracts, which they accept.

Chor. } _Come, shepherds, lead up a lively measure;_ of all. } _The cares of wedlock are cares of pleasure: But whether marriage bring joy or sorrow, Make sure of this day, and hang to-morrow._ [The Dance after the Song, and _Exeunt_ Shepherds and Shepherdesses.

_Enter, on the other side of the Stage_, OSWALD _and_ GUILLAMAR.

_Osw._ The night has wildered us; and we are fallen Among their foremost tents.

_Guil._ Ha! what are these? They seem of more than vulgar quality.

_Em._ What sounds are those? they cannot far be distant. Where are we now, Matilda?

_Mat._ Just before your tent. Fear not, they must be friends, and they approach.

_Em._ My Arthur! speak, my love; are you returned To bless your Emmeline?

_Osw._ [_To_ GUIL.] I know that face: 'Tis the ungrateful fair, who, scorning mine, Accepts my rival's love.--Heaven, thou art bounteous, Thou owest me nothing now.

_Mat._ Fear grows upon me.-- Speak what you are; speak, or I call for help.

_Osw._ We are your guards.

_Mat._ Ah me, we are betrayed! 'tis Oswald's voice.

_Em._ Let them not see our voices, and then they cannot find us.

_Osw._ Passions in men oppressed are doubly strong. I take her from king Arthur; there's revenge: If she can love, she buoys my sinking fortunes: Good reasons both: I'll on.--Fear nothing, ladies, You shall be safe. [OSWALD _and_ GUILLAMAR _seize_ EMMELINE _and_ MATILDA.

_Em._ and _Mat._ Help, help! a rape, a rape!

_Osw._ By heaven, ye injure me; though force is used, Your honour shall be sacred.

_Em._ Help, help! Oh, Britons, help!

_Osw._ Your Britons cannot help you. This arm through all their troops shall force my way, Yet neither quit my honour, nor my prey.

[_Exeunt, the Women still crying. An Alarm within: Some Soldiers running over the Stage_, "Follow, follow, follow."

_Enter_ ALBANACT, _Captain of the Guards, with Soldiers_.

_Alb._ Which way went the alarm?

_1 Sol._ Here, towards the castle.

_Alb._ Pox o'this victory, the whole camp's debauched; All drunk, or whoring.--This way; follow, follow.

[_Exeunt. The Alarm renews: Clashing of Swords within for a while._

_Re-enter_ ALBANACT, _Officer, and Soldiers_.

_Offi._ How sits the conquest on great Arthur's brow?

_Alb._ As when the lover with the king is mixt. He puts the gain of Britain in a scale, Which weighing with the loss of Emmeline, He thinks he's scarce a saver. [_Trumpet within._

_Offi._ Hark, a trumpet! It sounds a parley.

_Alb._ 'Tis from Oswald then, An echo to king Arthur's friendly summons, Sent since he heard the rape of Emmeline, To ask an interview, [_Trumpet answering on the other side._

_Offi._ But hark! already Our trumpet makes reply; and see both present.

_Enter_ ARTHUR _on one side attended_, OSWALD _on the other with Attendants, and_ GUILLAMAR. _They meet and salute._

_Arth._ Brave Oswald! we have met on friendlier terms, Companions of a war, with common interest, Against the bordering Picts: but times are changed.

_Osw._ And I am sorry that those times are changed, For else we now might meet on terms as friendly.

_Arth._ If so we meet not now, the fault's your own; For you have wronged me much.

_Osw._ Oh you would tell me, I called more Saxons in, to enlarge my bounds. If those be wrongs, the war has well redressed ye.

_Arth._ Mistake me not; I count not war a wrong. War is the trade of kings, that fight for empire: And better be a lion, than a sheep.

_Osw._ In what, then, have I wronged ye?

_Arth._ In my love.

_Osw._ Even love's an empire too; the noble soul, Like kings, is covetous of single sway.

_Arth._ I blame ye not for loving Emmeline: But, since the soul is free, and love is choice, You should have made a conquest of her mind, And not have forced her person by a rape.

_Osw._ Whether by force, or stratagem, we gain, Still gaining is our end, in war, or love. Her mind's the jewel, in her body locked; If I would gain the gem, and want the key, It follows I must seize the cabinet. But, to secure your fear, her honour is untouched.

_Arth._ Was honour ever safe in brutal hands? So safe are lambs within the lion's paw; Ungriped and played with, till fierce hunger calls, Then nature shews itself; the close-hid nails Are stretched, and opened, to the panting prey. But if, indeed, you are so cold a lover,--

_Osw._ Not cold, but honourable.

_Arth._ Then restore her: That done, I shall believe you honourable.

_Osw._ Think'st thou I will forego a victor's right?

_Arth._ Say rather, of an impious ravisher. That castle, were it walled with adamant, Can hide thy head but till to-morrow's dawn.

_Osw._ And ere to-morrow I may be a god, If Emmeline be kind: but, kind or cruel, I tell thee, Arthur, but to see this day, That heavenly face, though not to have her mine, I would give up a hundred years of life, And bid fate cut to-morrow.

_Arth._ It soon will come, and thou repent too late; Which to prevent, I'll bribe thee to be honest. Thy noble head, accustomed to a crown, Shall wear it still, nor shall thy hand forget The scepter's use: from Medway's pleasing stream, To Severn's roar, be thine; In short, restore my love, and share my kingdom.

_Osw._ Not though you spread my sway from Thames to Tyber: Such gifts might bribe a king, but not a lover.

_Arth._ Then pr'ythee give me back my kingly word, Passed for thy safe return; and let this hour, In single combat, hand to hand, decide The fate of empire, and of Emmeline.

_Osw._ Not that I fear do I decline this combat; And not decline it neither, but defer: When Emmeline has been my prize as long As she was thine, I dare thee to the duel.

_Arth._ I named your utmost term of life,--to-morrow.

_Osw._ You are not fate.

_Arth._ But fate is in this arm. You might have made a merit of your theft.

_Osw._ Ha! theft! your guards can tell I stole her not.

_Arth._ Had I been present,--

_Osw._ Had you been present, she had been mine more nobly.

_Arth._ There lies your way.

_Osw._ My way lies where I please. Expect (for Oswald's magic cannot fail) A long to-morrow, ere your arms prevail. Or, if I fall, make room, ye blessed above, For one who was undone, and died for love. [_Exit_ OSWALD _and his Party_.

_Arth._ There may be one black minute ere to-morrow: For who can tell, what power, and lust, and charms, May do this night?--To arms, with speed, to arms. [_Exeunt._