SCENE VI.--A CHAMBER IN THE PALACE.

_Enter_ EDMUNDA _and Attendants_.

_Edm._ I will not to my chamber, then, I tell ye.

_1st Maid._ Beseech you, madam, to return again; For so did your physician order.

_Edm._ Come hither, pretty maid, look at me well: Now say, hath he so order’d it, or not?

_1st Maid._ Indeed, he hath.

_Edm._ Nay, get thee gone: a maid, and still so false! Go to, live I not yet? Am I, then, call’d? And hath my sweetheart, death, yet fondly clasp’d me: Say, hath the heavy passing bell yet sounded, And hail’d me to my snug and chilly chamber?

_2nd Maid._ Madam, I fear your reason wanders.

_Edm._ Ay, ay! I understand thee, it is flown; My poor brain, alas! is sore distemper’d. Sweet, sweet, come from yon branch, here’s food for thee: My pretty birds, come back, I will not harm ye; My bosom, as your little nest, is warm, And is as soft, ay, and full of comfort, too. Nay, stop! it is too warm, come not! twill burn ye.

_2nd Maid._ My tears do flow for her so plenteously, That I have left in me no power to help her.

_Edm._ O! you great gods! why pelt ye thus my brain, And with your thunders loud, cause such dire outrage Within this little ball--this, O! this nothing? Tell me, high heaven! is this your justice? Did I not nourish them: ay, teach them, love them? Yes, little drops, oh! come, cool my poor face: Speak! ay, ye come, I know, to say I did. Now, please your highness, and what would you more? Say, are not here a host of witnesses? Longer, O! let me not detain the court; For in such plenty they do now rush forth, That you, sir, you who fill yon seat of justice, Must throw away your gown, and swim for life.

_1st Maid._ Will’t please, we lead you in?

_Edm._ I’gin, indeed, to think I need support; For I am even weaker than a babe. Hush! hush! come hither both, I’ll tell ye something. Now, then, your ears; I’m mad: ha! ha! ha! Say! is not this Whitsuntide?

_2nd Maid._ Ay, an’t please you, madam.

_Edm._ Then, listen.

_She sings._

Last Whitsunday, they brought me Roses, and lilies fair; Violets, too, they gave me To bind my auburn hair: But, then, my face look’d smiling, ’Cause that my babes were near; Now yon stinging nettle bring, ’Twill better suit this tear.

How like you this?

_1st Maid._ Excellently well, madam.

_Edm._ The time has been, when thus thou mightst have said, What, must these poor eyes never see them more? And have I need of these vile rags? off! off! I’ll follow ye to th’ extreme point o’the world; And, naked, bear the icy mountains cold, And the dread scorches o’that ball of fire, Till I have found them i’the antipodes; Should I not meet them there, I will rail so!-- Pardon these starts! in troth I will not harm ye; Indeed, indeed, I’m wrong’d! most sadly wrong’d! Did these my warblings charm ye? then I’ll die; For look you, maiden, I’ll sing sweeter far, Than dying swan at ninety and nine years! Lack, lack, a day! I’m faint! your arm, sweet maid. There is my gage, farewell: good night, sweet! good night!--

[_Exeunt_.

END OF THE THIRD ACT.