Grimbald made prisoner, and my grove destroy'd!  

Now what can save me ~ Hark, the drums and trumpets!

Drums and trumpets within.

Arthur is marching onward to the fort.

I have but one recourse, and that's to Oswald;

but will he fight for me, whom I have injur'd?

No, not for me, but for himself he must;

I'll urge him with the last necessity:

better give up my mistress than my life.

His force is much unequal to his rival;

true; ~ but I'll help him with my utmost art,

and try t'unravel fate.

Now there remains but this one labour more;  

and if we have the hearts of true-born Britons,

the forcing of that castle crowns the day.

The works are weak, the garrison but thin,

dispirited with frequent overthrows,

already wavering on their ill-mann'd walls.

They shift their places oft, and skulk from war,

sure signs of pale despair and easy rout;

it shews they place their confidence in magick,

and when their devils fail, their hearts are dead.

Then, where you see 'em clust'ring most, in motion,

and staggering in their ranks, there press 'em home;

for that's a coward's heap—How's this, a sally?

(advancing)  

Brave Britons, hold; and thou their famous chief,

attend what Saxon Oswald will propose.

He owns your victory; but whether owing

to valour, or to fortune, that he doubts.

If Arthur dares ascribe it to the first,

and singled from a croud, will tempt a conquest,

this Oswald offers; let our troops retire,

and hand to hand let us decide our strife:

this if refus'd, bear witness earth and heav'n,

thou steal'st a crown and mistress undeserv'd.

I'll not usurp thy title of a robber,

nor will upbraid thee, that before I proffer'd

this single combat, which thou did'st avoid;

so glad I am, on any terms to meet thee,

and not discourage thy repenting shame.

As once Aeneas, my fam'd ancestor,

betwixt the Trojan and Rutilian bands,

fought for a crown, and bright Lavinia's bed;

so will I meet thee, hand to hand oppos'd:

my auguring mind assures the same success.

(to his men)

Hence out of view; if I am slain or yield,

renounce me, Britons, for a recreant knight;

and let the Saxon peacefully enjoy

his former footing in our famous isle.

To ratify these terms, I swear. ~

You need not;

your honour is of force, without your oath.

I only add, that if I fall, or yield,

your's be the crown, and Emmeline.

That's two crowns.

No more; we keep the looking heav'n and sun

too long in expectation of our arms.

Confess thyself o'ercome, and ask thy life.  

'Tis not worth asking, when 'tis in thy power.

Then take it as my gift.

A wretched gift,

with loss of empire, liberty, and love.

'Tis too much bounty to a vanquish'd foe;  

yet not enough to make me fortunate.

Thy life, thy liberty, thy honour safe,

lead back thy Saxons to their ancient Elbe

I wou'd restore thee fruitful Kent, the gift

of Vortigern for Hengist's ill-bought aid,

but that my Britons brook no foreign power,

to lord it in a land, sacred to freedom,

and of its rights tenacious to the last.

Nor more than thou hast offer'd wou'd I take;

I would refuse all Britain held in homage;

and own no other masters but the gods.

At length, at length, I have thee in my arms;  

tho' our malevolent stars have struggled hard,

and held us long asunder.

We are so fitted for each other's hearts,

that heav'n had erred, in making of a third,

to get betwixt, and intercept our loves.

Were there but this, this only sight to see,

the price of Britain should not buy my stay.

Take hence that monster of ingratitude,

him who betray'd his master, bear him hence;

and in that loathsome dungeon plunge him deep,

where he plung'd noble Oswald.

That indeed is fittest for me,

for there I shall be near my kindred fiends,

and spare my Grimbald's pains to bear me to them.

Is carried off.

(to Arthur)

For this day's palm, and for thy former acts,

thy Britain freed, and foreign force expell'd,

thou, Arthur, hast acquir'd a future fame,

and of three christian worthies, art the first:

and now at once to treat thy sight and soul.

Behold what rolling ages shall produce:

the wealth, the loves, the glories, of our isle,

which yet, like golden ore, unripe in beds,

expect the warm indulgency of heav'n

to call 'em forth to light. ~

(to Oswald)

Nor thou, brave Saxon prince, disdain our triumph:

Britons and Saxons shall be once one people;

one common tongue, one common faith, shall bind

our jarring bands, in a perpetual peace.

For folded flocks on fruitful plains

etc.

Let us love, let us love, and to happiness haste;

age and wisdom come too fast;

youth for loving was design'd.

Heaven can give no greater blessing

than faithful love, and kind possessing.

These who last enter'd are our valiant Britons,  

who shall by sea and land repel our foes...

Now look above, and in heav'n's high abyfs,  

behold what fame attends those future heroes.

Honour who leads them to that steepy height,

in her immortal song, shall tell the rest.

(to Merlin)  

Wisely you have, whate'er will please, reveal'd;

what would displease, as wisely have conceal'd:

triumphs of war and peace, at full ye show,

but swiftly turn the pages of our woe.

Rest we contented with our present state;

'tis anxious to enquire of future fate.

That race of heroes is enough alone

for all unseen disasters to atone.

Let us make haste betimes to reap our share,

and not resign them all the praise of war.

But set th' example; and their souls inflame,

to copy out their great forefathers fame.