Page:Passions 2.pdf/177

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Here is a face whose smiles should gild thy honours, If thou art yet awake to beauty's power.

''Edw. (kissing Elburga's hand respectfully.)'' Honour'd I am, indeed; most dearly honour'd: I feel it here (his hand on his heart) and should be joyful too, If aught could gild my gloom. Elburga, thou wert ever fond of glory, And ever quick to honour valiant worth: Ethwald, my friend—hast thou forgotten Ethwald? (presenting Ethw. to her.)

Elb. Could I forget the warlike Thane of Mairnieth, I must have barr'd mine ears against all sound; For ev'ry voice is powerful in his praise, And ev'ry Mercian tongue repeats his name. (smiling graciously upon Ethw.)

''King. (impatiently)'' Where go we now? we wander from our purpose. Edward, thy youthful ardour, season'd well With warlike craft, has crown'd my age with glory: Here be thy valour crown'd, it is my will, With honour's wreath, from a fair hand receiv'd. (giving the wreath to Elburga.)

''Edw. (earnestly)'' I do beseech you, uncle!—pray receive My grateful thanks! the mournful cypress best Becomes my brow: this honour must not be.