Languages & literature > Alfred: a masque

22
ALFRED:
SCENE VIL
Emma, and other feafants.
Emma.
Ah, whither fliall we fly ?
Immortal virgin ! queen of mercy ! fave us
See, fee, my friends, they feize the lovely ftranger—
They bear her off—behold the king appears—■
My hufband too—now, heaven, defend alike
The mighty and the mean, the prince and peafant!
Two of them fall beneath our monarch’s arm
The third, my Corin—O I dare no more
Look that way—Yet I mull—The third is flain 1
O gallant (hepherd! O mod happy hour l
SCENE VIII.
Alfred, Corin,
fupporting the lady.
Alfred.
This way, brave fhepherd, from thefe clofer fliades—
Here the free air and breezy glade will roule
Her fainting fpirits-^-So—Who may fhe be ?
Perhaps, feme worthy heart at this fad moment
Akes for her fafety.
Elt. Save me, lave me, heaven ! [(he 1
Aif. Ye powers! what do I hear:—Yes—yes—’tis
My wife, my queen ! the treafure of my foul 1
Elt. My Alfred!
Alf. My Eltruda !
Elt. Can it be ?
Or is it all th’ illufiqn of my fear ?
O no : ’tis he—my lord ! my life ! my hulband!
My guardian angel Alfred.
Alf. My Eltruda !
Black horror chills me while I view the brink,
The dreadful precipice, on which we flood