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Beneath the tread of her majestic toe; And looks upon the human countenance, Whereon her Maker hath the signs impress'd Of all that he within the soul hath stored Of great and noble, gen'rous and benign, As on a molten plate, made to reflect Her grandeur and perfections.

Ethw. Of whom speak'st thou.

Eth. Not of the gentle Bertha. (Exit.

Ethw. What may he mean? He mark'd, with much displeasure, The soldiers shout my name, and now my favour With Mercia's princess frets him. What of this? Ha! hath his active mind, outrun mine own In shaping future consequences? Yes, It must be so: a cloudy curtain draws, And to mine eye a goodly prospect shews, ExtendingNo, I must not look upon it. (Exit hastily.

SCENE IV. An open space with arms, garments, and other spoils of the Britons ''heaped up on every side of the stage. Enter Soldiers and range themselves in order, then enter Ethelbert and a Soldier, talking as they enter.''

Eth. Ethwald amongst his soldiers, dost thou say, Divides his spoil?

Sol. He does most bountifully; Nor to himself more than a soldier's share Retains, he is so gen'rous and so noble.