“No! rather let your griefs now pine unseen,
“Where cold restraint can neither chide nor curb ye.”
Farewell! time then be yours until to-morrow.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.—A HALL IN VORTIGERN’S PALACE.
Enter Vortigern.
Vor. How stands it now?—then am I but protector?
Oh! ’tis an attribute my soul abhors,
To sovereignty a pander and a slave,
That looks with wistful eyes upon the crown,