# Vortigern and Rowena/Act I
## ACT I.
### SCENE I. A large Hall.

[A large Hall, discovers CONSTANTIUS, VORTIGERN, WORTIMERUS, CATAGRINUS, PASCENTIUS, and Attendants.]
CONSTANTIUS.
    Good Vortigern! as peace doth bless our isle,
    And the loud din of war no more affrights us,
    And as my soul hath plac'd thee next herself,
    'Tis our desire that thou deny'st us not,
    That, which anon we crave thee to accept,
    For though most weighty be our proffer'd task,
    We trust thy goodness will not yet refuse,
    For we have always found thee soft by nature,
    And like the pelican, e'en with thy blood,
    Ready to succour and relieve.
VORTIGERN.
    Most gracious sov'reign! to command is thine,
    And as a subject mine is to obey.
CONSTANTIUS.
    Such was the answer we did here expect,
    And farther now we shall explain our meaning;
    As frozen age we find doth fast approach,
    And state affairs lie heavy with ourself,
    We here to thee half of our pow'r resign,
    That thy reward may pace with this thy labour.
    To this our proposition what reply?
VORTIGERN.
    Oh! my most noble, good, and bounteous lord,
    These honours are indeed so great, so weighty,
    I fear lest like a garment too confin'd,
    They aukwardly should press upon the wearer.
    Therefore, my gracious lord! let one more worthy,
    I do beseech thee, bear them.
CONSTANTIUS.
    Nay! nay! this thy excuse will not suffice us,
    E'en here, we do await thy full consent,
    And, that we may more speedily conclude,
    We do require of thee that thou should'st sign
    These papers, by the which thou wilt become
    Jointly with ourself, King of this our realm.
VORTIGERN.
    I shall, my lord, obey your high command.
[Signs the paper.]
CONSTANTIUS.
    We shall await your coming at our palace.
[Exit Constantius.]
VORTIGERN.
    Fortune, I thank thee!
    Now is the cup of my ambition full!
    And by this rising tempest in my blood
    I feel the fast approach of greatness which
    E'en like a peasant stoops for my acceptance.
    But hold! O conscience, how is it with thee?
    Why dost thou pinch me thus, for should I heed thee,
    Then must my work crumble and fall to nought;
    Come then thou soft, thou double-fac'd deceit!
    Come dearest flatt'ry! come direst murder!
    Attend me quick, and prompt me to the deed!
    What! jointly wear the crown? No! I will all!
    And that my purpose may soon find its end,
    This, my good King, must I unmannerly
    Push from his seat and fill myself the chair;
    Welcome then glittering mark of royalty!
    And with thy pleasing yet oppressive weight,
    Bind fast this firm, and this determin'd brow.
    But ere I do proceed, let caution guide me,
    For though the trunk and body of the tree
    Be thus within my gripe, still do I fear
    Those boughs which stand so near and close allied,
    Which will, ere long, yield seeds for their revenge.
    Then since my soul e'en murder must commit,
    To gratify my thirst for royalty,
    Why should I play the child, or like a niggard,
    By sparing, mar and damn my cause for ever?
    No! as the blow strikes one, all three shall fall!
    Then shall I, giant-like, and void of dread,
    Uprear my royal and encircled brow,
    And in the face of the Omnipotent
    Bid bold defiance.—
    This my determination then shall be,
    And firm as adamant the end I'll see.

### SCENE II. A Chamber in VORTIGERN's Palace.

[Enter EDMUNDA and FLAVIA.]
FLAVIA.
    Dearest mother! why let watery grief
    Like a corroding and slow malady
    Nip thus the fairest and most beauteous pearl,
    That ever art of man by stealth or cunning
    Drew from the azure vault of brightest heav'n,
    To grace this earth? —Oh! my beloved mother!
    Turn, turn those tear worn eyes, and let one smile,
    One cheering look of sweet serenity,
    Beam forth to comfort my afflicted soul!
EDMUNDA.
    Oh! heavens! my gentle Flavia! would I could!
    But this corroding pensive melancholy
    Most venom like, destroys its nourisher.
    Oh! Vortigern, my lov'd, once loving husband,
    Why rend this bursting heart with cold disdain,
    E'en the poor culprit brought before his judge
    May boldly plead his cause; but I alas!
    Most innocent, and ignorant of my fault,
    Must bear the weight of judgment.
[Enter PASCENTIUS.]
FLAVIA.
    What news of good import, my dearest brother,
    Does this thy eager joy cloak from us?
PASCENTIUS.
    Oh! I have tidings I would fain make known,
    But they are of such wond'rous magnitude
    That I can scarcely give them utterance.
EDMUNDA.
    Oh! speak my child! my dear Pascentius, speak,
    For much thy mother consolation needs.
PASCENTIUS.
    The King then, madam, in his royal bounty,
    Hath jointly with himself, conferr'd the sway
    Of this our mighty kingdom, on my father.
EDMUNDA.
    Now woe indeed hath made her masterpiece!
    Ambition thou! thou art mine enemy;
    Thy idle dreams have forc'd my husband from me;
    Thy honey'd visions have deprived my soul
    Of that alone which made life worth retaining;
    Yes, thou art now, alas! become a flow'r
    That by the radiance of the sun is parch'd,
    And lacking drops of succour, droops and dies.
[Enter FOOL, whimsically attired, with his Bells and Ladle.]
PASCENTIUS.
    Whither so fast, good Fool?
FOOL.
    Good Fool, say'st thou! marry, these are sweet words, that do not often fall to our lot; but let me tell you, good master, fools have excellent wits, and those that ha' none will gladly go flatter, lest the fool's folly should make them still more foolish.
PASCENTIUS.
    But, prithee, tell us what is thine affair?
FOOL.
    Oh! my affair is weighty indeed, being burdened with the speech o' royalty.
PASCENTIUS.
    And wherefore so?
FOOL.
    I pray you stay your patience but awhile, and I will tell you; thou dost expect nought from the Fool, but folly; but from a king thou wouldst a cunning speech.
PASCENTIUS.
    And is't no so?
FOOL.
    Oh! no, by my troth, our good sovereign hath unto my noble master betrayed great lack of policy.
PASCENTIUS.
    How so?
FOOL.
    Why your wise man will tell you, the crown doth gall the wearer; but marry! I will shew myself the fool indeed, for I do say the half oft pinches more than the whole.
PASCENTIUS.
    Thou wouldst be witty, Fool!
FOOL.
    Marry, say not I would be, but that I am so; for let me tell you, the wit of your Fool is true wit, being solely his own, no man coveting it; whereas that of your wise man comes from books, and from those who went before. But wherefore should I thus lose wind? my wit being folly, is not by your wise man understood; therefore, I'll to the purpose. My master is made half King, and sends me his swift Mercury, to tell your gentle ladyship his honour's pleasure.
EDMUNDA.
    Prithee, be brief, and tell thine errand quickly.
FOOL.
    An please you then, my sweet mistress, he wills that you do put on your best attire, and that you do straight attend him, and go before th' other half o'th' crown.
EDMUNDA. We shall be ready at command.
[Exeunt.]

### SCENE III. Another Apartment in VORTIGERN's Palace.

[Enter VORTIGERN.]
VORTIGERN.
    Thus far, then have my deeds a sanction found,
    For still each morn doth the resplendent sun
    Dart forth its golden rays, to grace my sight.
    O what an inconsistent thing is man!
    There was a time when e'en the thought of murder
    Would have congeal'd my very mass of blood;
    "And, as a tree, on the approaching storm,
    "E'en so my very frame would shake and tremble:"
    But now I stand not at the act itself,
    Which breaks all bonds of hospitality.—
    To me, the King hath ever been most kind;
    Yea, even lavish of his princely favours,—
    And this his love I do requite with murder!
    And wherefore this? What! for a diadem,
    The which I purchase at no less a cost
    Than even the perdition of my soul;
    Still at that self same price will I obtain it.
    The rooted hate the Britons bear the Scots
    Is unto me an omen most propitious;
    I have dispatch'd my secret emisaries,
    And the young princes sons of the old King,
    (A long time since for study sent to Rome)
    Even for them have I prepared honours:
    For ere the moon shall twice have fill'd her orb,
    Death shall provide for them a crown immortal!
[Enter Servant]
SERVANT.
    Two officers, my lord! await your leisure.
VORTIGERN.
    Well, shew them to our presence.
[Enter Murderers.]
    Have ye concluded,
    Is your answer ready?
MURDERER.
    We have consider'd all,
    And on your promis'd bounty undertake
    A speedy execution.
VORTIGERN.
    You are agreed?
BOTH.
    Yes, my good lord.
VORTIGERN.
    Listen then awhile!
    This night Constantius gives a feast at which
    He wills I should be present, mark me well,
    For I will give the signal, and retire.
    Then tarry not, but do it on the instant.
MURDERER.
    Fear not, my noble lord, we are resolv'd.
[Exeunt.]
VORTIGERN.
    Now then good King prepare thee for the worst.
    For ere the thick and noisome air of night
    Shall with damned Hecate's baneful spells be fill'd,
    Thou must from hence to the cold bed of death,
    To whom alike peasant and king are slaves.
    Come then black night, and hood the world in darkness,
    Seal close the hearts of those I have suborn'd,
    That pity may not turn them from their purpose.
[Exit.]

### SCENE IV. A Chamber in CONSTANTIUS' Palace.

[Enter CONSTANTIUS with a Groom.]
CONSTANTIUS.
    Here place the light, now hasten to the hall,
    And unto Vortigern present this ring,
    Pledge of my sacred friendship, and alliance,
    Tell him I fain would see him in the the morning—
    Farewel, good Page! I now would be alone.
[Exit Page.]
    O sleep, thou nourisher of man and babe!
    Soother of every sorrow, that can'st bury
    The care-distracted mind in sweet oblivion,
    To thee, O gentle pow'r! I pawn my soul!
    Here then, on my bended knee, great God,
    Let me implore thy grace, and look for mercy;
    Though thou hast plac'd me sovereign over men,
    And on my brow hath fix'd a diadem;
    Yet am I subject still to human frailty,
    And naught can boast more than my meanest vassal.
    How wisely hast thou fram'd thy work of nature,
    Even the smallest reptile hath its instinct,
    Aye, is as nicely form'd as man, himself.
    Both too must die, both rot and come to dust.
    Yet man hath one great property besides,
    A never fading, an immortal soul!
    Upon that thought I rest my happiness.
[Lies on the couch.]
[Enter two Murderers.]
FIRST MURDERER.
    Oh! if one spot did fully his pure soul
    In heaven hath he wip'd it clean away,
    With this his sweet unfeigned oraison.
SECOND MURDERER.
    'Tis true—
    The King to us hath ever been most kind,
    We've serv'd and gained honours under him;
    'Twould have disgrac'd the name of Murderer
    Had we to cold death sent him unprepar'd.
    For e'en the rigid law itself allows
    To most crimes most daring, most atrocious,
    A time to pray, a time to ask for mercy.
FIRST MURDERER.
    Why how now?
    Hast thou forgot thine errand,
    Wast sent here to prate thus,
    Or to fulfil thy promise?
    I'll do't, nor this thy dagger will I sheath
    'Till reaking with his blood.
SECOND MURDERER.
    Yet one moment I pray thee, comrade!
FIRST MURDERER.
    I tell thee I will not.
    For as I am a man and soldier,
    So will I scorn to break my promis'd vow.
SECOND MURDERER.
    Thou shalt not yet,
    For statue like, here will I fix myself
    Till thou dost hear me out.
    Oh! is't not most manlike, that we stain
    Our hands with blood that ne'er did us offend?
    Is't not most serpent like, to sting sweet sleep,
    Which even from the giant takes all strength,
    And makes man taste of that which is to come?
    Let us, I pray thee friend, turn from the deed!
    I cannot, dare not, nay! I will not do't—
FIRST MURDERER.
    Coward, take hence that poor unmanly carcase,
    Or this my steel shall work a double end.
SECOND MURDERER.
    Lay on then! for I will defend the King,
    And may the Gods aid this my good design.
[They fight, second Murderer dies behind the Scenes.]
[The King awakes.]
CONSTANTIUS.
    Vassal, I say! what means this bloody deed?
    This bold intrusion in our royal presence?
    Can majesty command no more respect,
    But, that our very sleep must be disturb'd
    With murder, rude and most licentious?
MURDERER.
    Why plainly then! I do not fear thy presence,
    And to be brief with thee, thine hour is come!
KING.
    Traitor and villain, what would'st thou?
MURDERER.
    Nay then, an thou dost speak so rudely,
    Take thy reward.
[Stabs him.]
KING.
    Oh! I die, sweet Heaven receive my soul!
    Forgive, oh pardon this his crime!
    I come! bliss! bliss! is my reward for ever.
[Dies.]
MURDERER.
    Farewell, good King! and thou my comrade too!
    Now for my fouler purpose, that done!
    Hence on time's wing will I to Vortigern,
    And this my two edg'd work to him unfold.
[Exit.]

### SCENE V.

[Enter VORTIGERN with Guards, as having viewed the dead body of the King, behind the Scenes.]
VORTIGERN.
    O! this preposterous and inhuman act,
    Doth stir up pity in the blackest hell.
    Heav'n's aspect did foretell some ill this night,
    For each dread shrieking minister of darkness,
    Did chatter forth his rude and dismal song,
    While bellowing thunder shook the troubled earth,
    And the livid, and flaky lightning,
    Widely burst ope each crack in Heav'n's high portal.
    Have ye the traitor seiz'd? Is he yet dead?
OFFICER.
    Hard by, my lord, he lies reeking in's blood,
    Despair and horror mastered each man's breast;
    The attempt to check their rage would have been useless,
    His body is become one gaping wound.
VORTIGERN.
    O! my good friends, wou'd you had spar'd his life,
    And that your zeal had been more temperate,
    For by the workings of my soul, I find
    This was the instrument, but not the head.
OFFICER.
    Name him you deem the murderer, good my lord?
VORTIGERN.
    Be silent and mark well that I shall say,
    The Scots you know do bear us enmity,
    Many of rank do tarry in our Court;
    On them the guilt of this foul murder rests.
    I pray you instantly dispatch the guard,
    And seize each Scotsman ye shall chance to meet;
    I will go summon all the lords to council,
    And well consider that 'twere best to do.
[Exeunt.]

### SCENE VI. Assembly of Barons.

[Enter VORTIGERN.]
VORTIGERN.
    Oh! my thrice noble and right worthy Peers,
    We are now met upon the heaviest summons
    That ever yet did occupy our thoughts;
    The sparkling drop which graces every eye,
    And fain wou'd deluge every manly cheek,
    Denotes the brimful sorrow of each heart;
    Pity disgraces not the manlike brow,
    And yet it suits but ill the present crisis,
    When our best strength and wisdom both are needful,
    To stem this black, this damn'd conspiracy;
    For bloody war and foul rebellion lurk
    Beneath the mask of cruel treachery,
    Which i'th' present is so plainly shewn,
    By the brutal deed of these vile Scotsmen!
    Then let not drowsy thought deter our purpose,
    Nor basely rot in us the plant of justice,
    The clamorous people call aloud for sentence,
    Should we delay, it will go hard with us.
FIRST BARON.
    Trusting to thee, our noble good Protector,
    We do, without delay, pronounce as guilty,
    The perpetrators of this crying deed.
    We also do, with general accord,
    Beseech you bear the office of a King,
    Until the Princes do return from Rome;
    For on Aurelius, now the elder son
    Of our deceased King the election lights;
    Well do we know how tedious is this task,
    How full of trouble and perplexity!
    But we do also know thee for a man,
    Most good, most perfect, and most merciful!
VORTIGERN.
    I fear good Barons you do flatter me!
    I thought ere this, to have resigned the weight,
    Which the late King had heap'd upon my shoulders;
    But mark the sad reverse, for even now,
    You double this my load, and bear me down;
    Oh! you ha' struck me where I am indeed
    Most vulnerable—"The voice o'th' people!
    For them I will surrender liberty.
    Dispatch to Rome the messengers I pray,
    And let Aurelius know, that he is called
    To wear this gold, this forked diadem,
    That gives to man the sway of sovereignty.
SECOND BARON.
    My lord! the people, Barons, all do thank you
    For this your kind compliance with their will;
    To morrow's dawn shall see the packets ready,
    And we will then consult what messengers
    Shall to the princes bear, these heavy tidings.
VORTIGERN.
    'Tis well! I do commend your zealous care;
    And now, good friends, one mournful change remains,
    To attend the burial of our murdered King;
    Oh! 'twas a nipping blast, which suddenly
    Bereft us of our first, our sweetest plant,
    Both King and Father it hath stolen from us;
    But wherefore do I strive to ope anew,
    Those gates which bar the course of liquid sorrow?
    No! rather let your big griefs pine unseen,
    Where cold restraint can neither chide curb ye,
    Farewel! time then be yours until to-morrow.
[Exeunt.]

### SCENE VII. A Hall in VORTIGERN's Palace.

[Enter VORTIGERN.]
VORTIGERN.
    How stands it now—then am I but Protector?
    Oh! 'tis an attribute my soul abhors,
    To sovereignty a pander and a slave,
    That looks with wistful eyes upon the crown,
    And dares not touch it; O! I will none on't.
    Curse on those lords that did award me this,
    Whose justice needs must force them keep the crown
    For those, who by descent, do most deserve it.
    By heav'ns, I'll pour my bitter vengeance down
    For this their slow and niggardly promotion.
    Yet as they did award and give me sway
    Until the Prince Aurelius should return,
    Then is it mine most sure! the Princes cannot
    From their cold graves return to take it from me!
    Their wish'd-for death is sure, yet do I dread—
    For here within, there lurks a messenger
    That cautions me, and fain would ha' me fear.
    What ho! without I say! who attends there.
[Enter Servant.]
VORTIGERN.
    Are there no letters yet arrived from Rome?
SERVANT.
    No, my good liege.
VORTIGERN.
    Nor messengers?
SERVANT.
    Neither, my gracious sir.
VORTIGERN.
    Retire a while.
[Exit Servant.]
    Nor messengers nor letters! this alarms me;
    But what care I, e'en let the Princes come,
    When come, there's room enough i'th' ground for them.
    But soft! and let me weigh my present state,
    For much I fear these barons proffer'd friendship.
    Their niggardly shew of liberality
    Suits ill my lofty aim, and but the semblance wears
    Of that my soul is thirsting for—Dominion!
    Not rivetted by closer ties their Chief, tho' friendly,
    May swerve and prove a foe.—
    Yet I've a lure that shall ensnare that chief,
    My daughter's hand! but if she shou'd refuse,
    Then were my purpose baffled, or destroy'd.
    Is it not strange, a flinty heart like mine,
    Should stagger thus at thinking of a daughter?
    Flavia! whose fondest love to young Aurelius,
Now sojourning at Rome, hath long been pledg'd!
       Yet what of that! shall she, a whining girl,
    Oppose a father's and a monarch's will?
    My firm resolve once know, will shake that mind
    Which in her gentlest moments nature fram'd;
    This work atchiev'd each lord his aid shall lend,
    And to my will the haughtiest crest shall bend.
[Exit.]

### SCENE VIII. London. The Palace.

[Enter FLAVIA and PASCENTIUS.]
FLAVIA.
    Oh! heav'ns! in thy great mercy thou hast led me
    To that dear object I so long have sought
    Through ev'ry secret winding o'th' palace.
PASCENTIUS.
    My Flavia say!
    What is't hath ruffled thus thy gentle bosom?
    I fear our father hath occasion'd this,
    For late as passing through the hall I saw him,
    He paced to and fro in great disorder,
    Sometimes in deep thought lost, he'd stop and pause,
    Then o'er his troubled breast crossing his arms,
    Would utter words, but in a voice so low,
    That they distill'd themselves i'th' gentle air.
    Tho' I did thrice address him, yet he brake
    Abruptly from me, and no answer made.
    I never saw the conflict of his soul.
    So plainly in his countenance pourtray'd.
FLAVIA.
    Alas! 'tis true! I too have seen my father;
    And harshly has he urg'd my breach of vow
    To my Aurelius, and to pledge my love
    To one my soul abhors! say then, my brother,
    Is that kind friendship for my lov'd Aurelius,
    Which first in years of infancy took root,
    Is it yet untainted? Speak truly brother—
    And are thy vows of frienship to thy sister
    Pure and unspotted as the face of heav'n!
    And wilt thou save her?
PASCENTIUS.
    'Tis not in my nature
    To act a treach'rous or ungenerous part!
FLAVIA.
    Enough, enough, I meant not to offend;
    That I'm about to ask is truly urgent,
    Nor more nor less than our own banishment.
PASCENTIUS.
    Th' impending exile is to me most strange,
    But if thy dearest mother thou can'st leave,
    Then must it be most pressing; I consent,
    And will not ruffle thee by further question.
    But silence for a while, here comes the Fool.
    Of him some tidings we perchance may hear.
[Enter FOOL.]
FLAVIA.
    Speak, Fool, when did'st last see my gentle mother?
FOOL.
    Rather ask, when 'twas that i e'er saw thy father in such sort before; marry, he did never speak so roundly to me. Of old, your Fool did make your sage one tremble, but my foolship hath not found it so. Times must indeed be bad, when fools lack wit to battle wise mens ire; nay, but I have legs, therefore can run; a heart, that's merry, but wou'd be more so, an 'twas drench'd with sack from my ladle; but no matter, that's empty, till you gentle chuse to fill it, then by your leaves we'll walk, and carry our wits where they'll chance meet better fare.
PASCENTIUS.
    Nay, nay, come hither Fool, be not too hasty;
    This fellow's true and honest, and, dear sister,
    Might well our purpose serve, wilt thou consent
    That in our service he be bound?
FLAVIA.
    Of me ask nothing, but pursue that council
    Which in thy riper wisdom shall seem meet.
PASCENTIUS.
    What's thy purpose, Fool?
FOOL.
    To quit thy father.
PASCENTIUS.
    What think'st o'me for a master?
FOOL.
    Nay, o'that I think not, for thou wou'dst joke, but an thou dost, thou hast rare impudence to do't i'th' presence of a fool.
       When thy beard is somewhat blacker,
       When thy years have made thee riper,
       When in thy purse the pounds thou'lt tell,
       And for a brothel thou't not sell
       Thy patrimony, and thy lands,
    Why marry, an I should then find nought more suiting, my charity shall bid me follow thee, and teach thee the ways o'this slippery world.
FLAVIA.
    O tarry not, for we must hence away;
    What hour is it?
PASCENTIUS.
    Near five o'th' clock.
    Yon brilliant mass o'fire the golden sun,
    Hath just saluted with a blushing kiss,
    That partner of his bed the vasty sea.
FOOL.
    Yea, and your father wills that you do soon salute your beds, for he hath order'd that supper be instantly brought into the hall.
FLAVIA.
    Good heav'n's! so soon, O my Pascentius,
    Each moment lost is an eternity.
[Exeunt.]
FOOL.
    Nay, then ye are gone and ha left your poor Fool behind. Methinks I love that young master; nay, I know not how 'tis, but my legs wou'd needs go follow him; yet master Fool, is this wisdom? for they say the legs should ne'er carry away the brains; yet let me see, cannot I, in my folly, now form this saying, and turn it to mine own conceit? I ha hit it; for it matters not what comes o' my brains, for men say they are good for naught, but my legs are; therefore, let the better o'th' two serve as guide for the other. I'll away then, and follow him.
[Exit.]
END OF FIRST ACT.