ALFRED: A MASQUE. REPRESENTED BEFORE THEIR ROYAL HIGHNESSES THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF WALES, AT CLIFFDEN, ON THE FIRST OF AUGUST, 1740. BY MR. THOMSON AND MR. MALLET. Si velimus cum priorum temporum necessitate certare, vincemur. Ingeniosior est enim ad excogitandum simulatio veritate, servitus libertate, metus amore.-PLINII Panegyricus ad Trajanum. THE ARGUMENT. AFTER the Danes had made themselves masters of Chippenham, the strongest city in the kingdom of Wessex, Alfred was at once abandoned by all his subjects. In this universal defection, that monarch found himself obliged to retire into the little Isle of Athelney in Somersetshire; a place then rough with woods, and of difficult access. There, in the habit of a peasant, he lived unknown for some time in a shepherd's cottage. He is supposed to be found in this retreat by the earl of Devon; whose castle, upon the river Tau, was then besieged by the Danes. The scene represents a plain, surrounded with woods. On one side, a cottage; on the other, flocks and herds in distant prospect. A hermit's cave in full view, overhung with trees, wild and grotesque. ACT I. SCENE I. CORIN, EMMA. Em. SHEPHERD, 't is he. Beneath yon aged oak, All on the flowery turf he lays him down. Cor. Soft let us not disturb him. Gentle Emma, As if some saint or angel in disguise Had graced our lowly cottage with his presence, And makes it pant to serve him. Trust me, Emma, Em. Some lord, perhaps, Or valiant chief, that from our deadly foe, Cor. And shelter he shall find. Who loves his country, is my friend and brother. Even through the homely russet that conceals him, Yet darts his beam around. Em. Your thought is mine: He is not what his present fortunes speak him. We dare not keep him here. Cor. Cor. Now, just Heaven forbid And humbly born? The true heart makes us noble. These tyrants threaten, let me rather meet it Em. Alas the while, That loyal faith is fled from hall and bower, Ah, look! behold Cor. Em. To serve her bravely on some bless'd occasion, That war with heaven and us? Em. Alas, my love! These passions are not for the poor man's state. To Heaven and to the rulers of the land Leave such ambitious thoughts. Be warn'd, my Corin; And think, our little all depends on thee. SONG. O PEACE! the fairest child of Heaven, Return, sweet Peace, and cheer the weeping swain ! Cor. Hush; cease thy song: for, sec, our mournful guest Has raised his head; and lo who comes to greet him!His friend, the woodman of the neighbouring dale, Whom late, as yester-evening star arose, At his request I found and hither brought. SCENE II. ALFRED, EARL OF DEVON. Alf. How long, O ever-gracious Heaven! how long All, all is lost; and Alfred lives to tell it! Dev. Old as I am, my liege, In rough war harden'd, and with death familiar, Alf. O my people! O ruin'd England! Devon, those were bless'd Who died before this time. Ha! and those robbers, That violate the sanctity of leagues, The reverend seal of oaths; that basely broke, Like nightly ruffians, on the hour of peace, And stole a victory from men unarm'd,- Those Danes enjoy their crimes! Dread Vengeance! son Of Power and Justice! come, array'd in terrors, Thy garment red with blood, thy keen sword drawn : O, come, and on the heads of faithless men Pour ample retribution; men whose triumph Dev. |