Page:Passions 2.pdf/157

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A TRAGEDY.
145

(He smiles upon her joyfully, and her countenance brightens. She then puts her hand upon his arm, and, stepping back a little space, surveys him with delight.)

Berth. Thou man of mighty deeds!
Thou, whom the brave shall love, and princes honour!
Dost thou, in truth, return to me again,
Mine own, my very Ethwald?

Ethw. No, that were paltry: I return to thee
A thousand fold the lover thou hast known me.
I have, of late, been careless of thee, Bertha.
The hopeless calm of dull obscurity,
Like the thick vapours of a stagnant pool,
Oppressed my heart and smother'd kind affections;
But now th' enliv'ning breeze of fortune wakes
My torpid soul—When did I ever fold thee
To such a warm and bounding heart as this?
(Embraces her.)
The king has given me Mairnieth's earldom—
Nay, smile my Bertha!

Berth. So I do, my Ethwald.

Ethw. The noble ethling greatly honours me
With precious tokens: nay, the very soldiers
Do cock their pointed weapons as I pass;
As tho' it were to say, "there goes the man
That we would cheerly follow."
Unto what end these fair beginnings point
I know not—but of this I am assured,
There is a course of honour lies before me,