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Grimbald's song continued.
Enter Bridferth (Dunstan's Chaplain).
Dunstan.
What vile noise is this
Of juggling mountebanks that bellow and sing?

Bridferth,
Sir, the Earl Athulf, from my Lord the King,
Accompanied by his Highness's chief jester,
Expects the end of your observances,
And entertains his patience.

Odo.
Insolent scoffer!

Dunstan.
The King hath sent him? Nay then, bring him here.

[Exit Bridferth.
Grimbald.
(heard again).
Up and away! We'll be merry to-day,
For my father's in jail and my mother's gone gay.

Odo.
Attended by a jester! Is't not monstrous?
The jester shall to prison, if not the Earl;
He shall be whipped, and make a jest of that.

Dunstan.
Brother, not so. A grave occasion this,
Which calls us to account and bids be still
All outward flourishes of empty ire.
Far looks the present hour and sees beyond
A fertile future. Brother, in our brains,
Not in our bloods, are we to seek the seeds
Wherewith to sow it. Enter Athulf.

Welcome, Sir, to Sheen!

Athulf.
My Lord Archbishop, and my good Lord Abbot,
I crave your blessing. Summons from the King
I bring you both, that you attend the court
At Kingston, on St. Austin's Eve, to grace
His coronation, and therein perform
Each your fit function: then and there, Lord Primate,
You shall anoint him King, and you, my Lord,
As is your right, shall with the golden spurs
Adorn and illustrate the royal heels.

Dunstan.
Sir Earl, all rights that in the Church reside,
And in ourselves, at all times stand we prompt
To exercise; and on St. Austin's Eve,
Obedient alway to the King—next God—
As He shall give us guidance shall we walk.

Athulf.
I will so say. The King expects your aid,
But in default thereof, his head and heels
Will punctually upon St. Austin's Eve
Be otherwise attended. Fare you well!

[Exit.
Dunstan.
Ho, ho! Sir Earl; say'st thou St. Austin's Eve?
Look to thy sister!

Odo.
Nay, it shall not be.

Dunstan.
The wedding shall not; for the rest compound.
If, as their wanton bearing seems to boast,
It cannot be withstood, lo! give it way.
This weakling, Edwin, from the arms escaped
Of Ethbaal's daughter, the Zidonian quean,
As amiably shall answer to our call
As a tame culver.

Odo.
Were he but escaped!

Dunstan.
As with gross appetite he now enjoys
(If insight fail me not) the all of folly,
So shall we see him soon agape for change,
Loathing his love foregone. Yield, brother, yield.
Yet hold your force the while not less alert
To answer each event. Be armed within,
Be gowned without. Good brother, yield, but stand.