It is beneath the noblest English arm! And that secures my fame. "Thy bosom now "May harbour him that is thy foe no more. [Audley kneels and takes him in his arms. "Why, this is kind! thus lock'd in thy embrace, "To let a rival warrior breathe his last." Report me truly as thy sword has found I know thou wilt; and, in the long hereafter, If we can meet, I'll thank thee for't.-Farewell. [Dies. Aud. Farewell, brave Ribemont; thou fearless soldier. Peace to thy ashes-to thy soul reward And honour crown thy name! A foe could weep! But pity would disgrace a death like thine. [Trumpets. Enter PRINCE, CHANDOS, and Attendants. Prince. [Turning back.] Give instant orders to recall our parties; I will not hazard, by a rash pursuit, So vast a victory! "And let my standard To guide our troops returning from the chace." Aud. Faint with the loss of blood-I hope no more. Prince. Summon assistance; all that wealth can reach "To him who gives me but his life's assurance. "[Exit an Attendant. "Advance the banner o'er us.-Long, oh, long "c May'st thou survive to wear this well-won honour, "[He knights and embraces Audley. "My bravest knight-my most belov'd of men," I'll come in person and attend his cure. Aud. There lifeless lies the arm that gave the wound; A braver soldier never press'd the earth! On his remains let due distinction wait, To dignify the dust that once was noble. [He is led off. Prince. The valiant Ribemont!-Take hence his corps, And see that every solemn rite be paid: [Ribemont carried off. Chan. The field is thinn'd! And now far off re mov'd, The dying voice of tumult faintly sounds, "Like the hoarse thunder in a distant sky;" As hollow roarings of subsiding waves, After their conflict with a furious storm. Prince. An awful horror!-The sad scene before us, Pompous with desolation! as declines The glow and ardor of our martial flame, How many souls have ta'en eternal flight, Who, but this very morning, on the wing Enter WARWICK. * War. Oh, mighty prince, whose matchless virtues charm The many realms your victories have aw'd! Lend your compassion," your protection lend "To wretched, bleeding, dying penitence." Prince. What would'st thou say War. Unhappy Mariana, At once the victim of distressful love, Prince. Go on. War. Frantic and weeping, ran o'er all the field, 'Till chance directed her to Arnold's corpse, That welt'ring lay in blood. She kiss'd it oft, Bath'd it with tears, tore her dishevell'd locks, Smote her poor bosom, sobb'd and sadly groan'd, 'Till snatching from his clay-cold hand his sword, She plung'd it sudden in her side!—sunk down— And call'd on death to lock their last embrace. "I (but too late to save her) interpos'd, "And cry'd for help--alas! in vain. But now, "Pluck'd by some passing soldiers from the body, *In the original, Louisa enters here, and speaks the three following speeches of Warwick. "They force her, raving and reluctant, hither." Prince. Oh, Chandos-what a moving sight is here! "Enter Soldiers forcing in MARIANA, distracted and bleeding. "Mar. Off let me go-I will not be torn from him: "Relentless monsters!-Let us mingle blood, "And die together.What do I behold!"Oh, hide me, friendly earth,--for ever hide me "From that offended face [Sinks down. "Prince. Look up, fair mourner, [Kneeling by her.. "And gather comfort from my friendly tears. "Mar. Comfort from thee?-Thou injur'd godlike hero! "Load me with curses !-Stab me with reproaches,"Thy sweetness cannot !-but the hand of Heav'n, "That strikes for injur'd virtue, heavy falls! "And crushes me beneath it. "Prince. Weep not thus. "Mar. What art thou made of, heart, to bear all this? "That grov'ling in the dust-abandon'd "Prince. Nay, "Do not be so wilful-And "Mar. Indeed, great prince, "The dear, departed Arnold, was ensnar'd, "Seduc'd-betray'd by me. But Heav'n can witness, "My only motive was his preservation. "Danger, despair, provok'd the guilty deed; "Which horror, death and infamy reward. "Prince. No, both have my compassion-my for giveness. "Mar. Forgiveness, said you?-Oh, celestial sound! "Catch it, ye angels, hovʼring on the wing, "To waft me to the bar of Heav'n's high justice! "Offended virtue pities and forgives! "Chaunt it aloud! and cheer with this foretaste "Of goodness infinite,-my drooping-Oh!- [Dies. "Chan. She's breathless !" Prince. Heav'n, I hope, will think their crime Enough was punish'd by affliction here. Lay them together." Well, my lord of" Warwick, England triumphs. * War. I've view'd the adverse camp, as you commanded; Where all the wealth of France was sure collected, To grace the ruin of that wretched people. Each tent profuse! Like those of Pompey's host, When on Pharsalia's plain he fought great Cæsar, And lost the world his life-and Rome her freedom. Prince. All-righteous Heav'n! thy hand is here conspicuous ! In the original, Warwick enters here. |