Edgar, or the English monarch an heroick tragedy. By Mr. Thomas Rymer, servant to Their Majesties.
Rymer, Thomas, 1641-1713.
SCENE V.
Edi.
If here brave Strangers thus are entertain'd,
All men must fly th' in hospitable Land;
Avoid our shore, and in the Storms at Sea,
'Mongst Sands and Rocks find more humanitie.
Gun.
This hour be rac'd from out King Edgar's Reign,
Else it might all the other bright days stain.
Some Minister in this abus'd his Trust,
For 'tis below a King to be unjust.
Edi.
These Fav'rites on that Royall power incroach,
No Subject, without Sacriledge, can touch;
And still believe their Thunder idlely spends,
But when it some illustrious Ruin sends.
Edi.
And let her reign, unenvy'd as unprais'd,
To that high rank, in spite of Honour, rais'd.
That title on Gunilda if bestow'd,
With Joy I to the dignity had bow'd.
Gun.
Betroth'd to Kenneth, I for Scotland sail'd,
'Gainst our intent when adverse winds prevail'd,
And I by storms was forc'd upon your shore;
Where Edgar's Love disorder'd me yet more.
His Love, for so I constru'd that Address,
Which did but his Civilities express.
But Heaven disprov'd that faithless change in me,
And, angry, smil'd at my Unconstancy.
Edi.
Yet Kenneth did, no fault, that errour think,
Or else his Love did at the Frailty wink.
And he unchang'd, your wavering purpose knew.
And something to his Constancy is due.
Gun.
I ignorant still, and constant had remain'd,
Had never I the sight of England gain'd.
But here —
Edi.
—Who here? (since Edgar claims no place)
Who here, that can your vow'd affections press?
Or Kenneth's first, and justest Title shake?
Gun.
Those vows, and ties, how easily Edgar brake?
And here, since Edgar from that Conquest fled,
Are others not unworthy to succeed,
Who may consummate, what he but begun.
Edi.
The Queen—I must her hated presence shun.
Exeunt.
