I had in dark and endless shame been lost,
Nor e'er again before these valiant men
Stood in this royal presence.
In all my fortune, happy I am alone
That my brave father, rescued by these arms,
Look'd on me, smiling thro' the shades of death,
And knew his son. He was a noble man!
He never turn'd from danger—but his son—
(Many voices at once) His son is worthy of him!
(Repeated again with more voices) His son is worthy of him!
Ethelbert. (with enthusiasm) His son is worthy of the noblest sire that ever wielded sword!
(Voices.) Crown him, fair princess! crown the noble Edward!
(Elburga offers him the wreath, which he puts aside vehemently.
Edw. Forbear! a band of scorpions round my brow
Would not torment me like this laurel wreath.
(Elb. turns from him contemptuously, and gives the wreath to the King.)
Edw. (to King.) What, good, my Lord! is there not present here
A Mercian brow deserving of that wreath?
Shall he, who did with an uncover'd head
Your battle fight, still wear his brows unbound?
Do us not this disgrace!
King. (fretfully) Thou dost forget the royal dignity:
Take it away.(giving it to an Officer.)
