And kingdoms rise or fall, give to our words

Persuasion's winning charms; those charms which smooth

The brow of wrath, and of his cruel purpose

Beguile revenge! so may impartial reason

Decide between us, and the Scourge

of war

Pass from the nations! War, remorseless power,
Furious and blind, as violence or chance

Impels, the palm bestows; and on the ground
Humbling the just, bids pride and falsehood rise

On conquest's eagle pinion. But unblam'd

May. we declare our message, and against
The throned state of sov'reign majesty

Urge our bold charge, as sacred justice bids?

Conscious of right, to you, illustrious chiefs,
The king submits his cause." Belinus then :

"Not urg'd by lust of war, nor blind obedience

To pow'r superior, sheath'd in arms we stand;
But foes to lawless force, and proud oppression.
Patient we hearken to thy pleaded reason."

Mempricius now resumes. "Thus Locrine bids.

4

Say to Cornubia, o'er our peaceful realm

Why have your threat'ning armies pour'd dismay?

If we have exil'd from our throne and bed

The haughty Guendolen, our kingly pow'r
Might well, dependent on no foreign state,
Refuse th' account; but mov'd by love of peace,
And arm'd by justice, we provoke the trial.
Stand forth that guilty woman, whose vile arts

With spells, and dark conspiracy, assail'd

Her husband's throne and life. Before Cornubia

Our proofs produc'd shall vouch the charge: submission,

If lightly urg'd, atone. Or will she dare,

By white-rob'd priests in solemn order led,

Approach the charmed rock, which from its base

Self-mov'd inclines, when truth is near, and heav'n

To witness call? Till then suspend the war."
Mempricius ceas'd; and thus the queen replied,

While from her eyes insulted innocence

Flash'd lightnings. "Yes, we court the awful trial.

Connubial Juno, hear! hear, mighty Jove!

Hear, righteous Themis! for you know my truth.
If without murmur, while my swelling heart
Almost to bursting throbb'd with anguish keen,

To have sustain'd my wrongs: if to have wept
My lonely nights upon a widow'd bed,

Yet taught my languid cheek to wear a smile
When next we met, though cold aversion scowl'd

Upon his alter'd brow: if to have waited

With fondest love and most attentive duty
Upon his will, and hop'd by patient bearing
To win upon his heart, and move his pity:

If this be dark conspiracy, if this

Be proud rebellion, I indeed am guilty.

Alas! and what has been the meed of patience?

Repeated insult, hard, unfeeling insult.

And, when exhausted cruelty supplied

No fiercer torture, last, disgraceful exile
And sland'rous accusation." More, in grief
And bitterness of soul, she would have said;
When brave Ebrancus, starting from the crowd,

Thus spoke indignant: "Mighty queen, forbear.
We know thy virtues, and the tyrant's guilt.
Ev'n now, while here his solemn embassy
Mocks us with promise fair, and shew of peace,
And dares invoke th' immortal gods to witness:
His impious arts, his base dissimulation,

Those injur'd gods detect. The fraud is plain.
And does he deem us then so weak of mind,
Such easy novices, that, sooth'd by words,
We shall unbrace our armour, and lay by
Our righteous swords, which sacred justice draws?
Suspend the war? What, till th' extended realm

Which owns his sway, from all her provinces

Pours forth her armed sons to fight his battles?

No, let Cornubia back return defiance,

And hostile scorn.

Ev'n now, our spies report,

Ten thousand warriors from their northern confines, From Medway's banks, and Thames' majestic wave, Urge their swift march. Retire, Loëgrian chiefs,

Your arts avail not. On your camp we pour

Instant the vengeance of our injur'd queen,

If great Belinus give our fury way."

Ebrancus thus. Belinus thus replied:

"Well hast thou spoke, chief of Cornubian heroes,

Still first in action, still in council wise.

Mempricius, tell your king, his shallow arts

Protect his guilt no more, but by his sword

His safety must be purchas'd. Thy weak age
May need refreshment. Venerable man,

Enter our tent, and share the gènial feast,
Thou and thy brave companions. Many a chief
To-morrow gluts the rage of sanguine war.
Then we may meet as foes. To-night at least

Accept the honours due to age and thee."

"No; to the king," the hoary warrior said,

"We bear thy answer; what the morn shall bring We mourn, but fear not." Now the council rose. Through all th' extended camp the troops indulge The banquet, till the shades of night descend.

Not so the mournful Guendolen. Retir'd,