 | Flodden Field |  |
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ACT III
SCENE:—The same as in Acts I and IISIR WILLIAM
(alone, pacing the gallery)
Is the tale true? Or true in part, in part
False, as such tales in truth are apt to be?
Do Kings sue ever in vain to women's ears?
Not to their ears, if ofttimes to their hearts,
Nor often to—God! how is one to know?
A woman's fancy is more easily moved
Than is her blood. I never could move either,
Her proud cold ladyship's the least of all,
And by her very coldness have been made
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With throne, and crown, and royal robes set off,
Homage of men, and love of other women,
Or felt or feigned, fond expectation strained
In the loose bosom of the fond and frail,
Till virtue, honour, vow, fidelity,
Into the circling pool of harlotry
Are whirled and whelmed! O, if I but could know,
Could know, could learn!
[Enter Margery—seeing Sir William, she hesitates.]
Nay, go not, Margery!
[Aside.]
Here sure is one can tell, if any can. ...
[To Margery, abruptly.]
Saw you King James, when he was here to-day?
MARGERY
A moment, ere he went.
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How looked he then?
MARGERY
Like to a man distraught.
SIR WILLIAM
Why, why distraught?
What cause had he?
MARGERY
I pray you, do not ask.
SIR WILLIAM
But ask of you I must. Say truly, Margery,
Do you love Lady Heron?
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With all my being,
Heart, soul, mind, body, service, everything.
SIR WILLIAM
Then you would lie for her?
MARGERY
I trust I should not.
Nay, more, I trust I never shall have need.
SIR WILLIAM
Not—not to save her honour?
MARGERY
Honour gone,
What then were left to save?
109
(aside)
True. And still truer,
We only lie to cover other lies,
And wounded honour with dishonour veil,
To save it from persistent penalty.
[To Margery.]
King James for Lady Heron hath—a fancy?
MARGERY
Belike he has. It is a way men have
With comely women, I have heard it said.
SIR WILLIAM
And Lady Heron a—fancy for King James?
MARGERY
O no, my lord! That were a different way,
A different, worse, and far more dangerous way.
110
How know you that her thoughts not that way wend?
MARGERY
Because I saw him come, I saw him go,
Coldly received, disdainfully dismissed.
SIR WILLIAM
Then why was he received?
MARGERY
You know Kings must be,
Must—must. But surely, sir, you understand?
SIR WILLIAM
He hath a pleasing and a winning air.
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Is not that kingly?
SIR WILLIAM
Writes love-ditties, too—
MARGERY
Music, and verse, and both are sweet to women.
SIR WILLIAM
And flattery, Margery.
MARGERY
Haply, sir, and flattery.
Are men indifferent to it?
SIR WILLIAM
Tell me, then?
My lady hath a fancy for no man?
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How can we mortals read each others' hearts?
God only can do that. You ask too much.
I pray you let my answering suffice
A question wiselier put by none of us
Anent another.
[Enter Seneschal.]
SENESCHAL
(to SIR WILLIAM)
Go you not, good my lord, to Flodden Field,
Where gone have all your fighting men, save those
Who needs must stay behind to sentry Ford?
SIR WILLIAM
And gone, I trust, to join the English camp.
SENESCHAL
So 'tis surmised, assumed. Withal, who knows?
We Border folk are sparing of our speech,
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And many a man is deemed of English pulse,
Whose heart beats secretly with Scottish hopes.
But, go you there, they there too will remain,
Faithful, leastways, to you, their rightful lord.
SIR WILLIAM
Give me my armour; battle-axe and sword,
Borne by my ancestor at Bannockburn,
And trusty still.
SENESCHAL
They hang upon the wall.
[Sir William dons his armour, assisted by Seneschal and Margery, and exit accompanied by both.]
[As the door closes, enter Lady Heron.]
LADY HERON
Gone! All of them gone, unto the battle-field!
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James, to defeat and rout, unless Heaven should
Turn likelihood to baffled expectation,
As in this contrary surprising world
Will sometimes hap,—but not to-day, to-day,
In labour with two Kingdoms' fate, and mine!
My own untimely-coming lord, too, gone,
To join the English camp, his faith assured,
As well in sooth it should be, of the truth
Of what I swore to him, on this, on this.
[Taking up a crucifix, then laying it down.]
What proves his bearing and his fate in fight—
Well, need is none, to ponder upon that
Till—Let me think! In truth I cannot think,
But only feel!
[Sees the pearls brought by James.]
The lust-bribe of a King!
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[Flings them on the table; takes from her bosom, and kisses, the sprig of white heather given her by Surrey.]
This is the gift I cherish, for it is
Love's white flower 'mong the crimson crop of blood.
[Enter Seneschal, Margery, and Four Men-at-Arms.]
SENESCHAL
Madam, the armies are in motion, and
The fight begun upon the nearward wing.
Shall I conduct you to the Tower?
LADY HERON
Unless
We here command the field.
[They mount the embrasure, whence Flodden Field is full in their view, but not in that of the audience.]
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Yes, perfectly.
Here, Madam, with your leave. Hence you survey
More advantageously the field.
LADY HERON
How plain
I can descry the Flodden slopes, and watch
The bowmen and the spearmen choose their ground,
Scatter or swarm, halt or advance, and—see!
The English feathers flicker through the air.
MARGERY
Aye, but fall short.
SENESCHAL
They measure but the ground.
Now have they found it, and how fast and thick,
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Betwixt them and their aim. Do you see Surrey?
LADY HERON
Who doth not see the sun when it doth shine?
Even at that distance he half dazzles one,
And frightens one to look! He flasheth swift
Among the medley of the combatants,
Now here, now there, now everywhere at once,
According as one gazes.
MARGERY
But, look! look!
His fellows hovering eastward seem to waver
And breed disorder in the ranks behind.
LADY HERON
'Tis but a feint to draw the enemy,
I'll pledge me. What say you, Sir Seneschal?
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Who can be sure but he who holds command?
Your younger eyes range more afield than mine,
And with a sharper vision.
LADY HERON
Seems it still
As if they yielded ground? Say, Margery!
MARGERY
Nay, there is such confusion, north with south,
One blade with the other, battle-axe with pike,
'Tis hard to say, save that they shock and shout,
And all alike strike fiercely, manfully,
And many fall, nor rise from where they fall.
God shrive their sins!
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Death will do that for them.
Who die in battle for their mother-land
Are counted 'mong the martyrs. What fierce shouting!
LADY HERON
Yes, and how plain one hears them! To which side
Do your affections lean?
SENESCHAL
Troth, noble lady,
The Border blood that flows within my veins,
Like Tweed itself, inclines now here, now there,
But ends by warming to the winning side,
As being the stouter.
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Mine the losing one.
I cannot help though I be chidden for it.
SENESCHAL
'Tis the more maidenly.
LADY HERON
But where's the King?
Look where I will, I cannot see King James.
MARGERY
Look! look! He hastes all bonnetless and bare,
As though he cometh tardily. And see!
They bring him helm, and sword, and battle-axe,
And with hot haste he pusheth to the front.
LADY HERON
Then Surrey swift to meet him.
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So he doth;
And the two armies cluster them around,
As bees about their monarch.
LADY HERON
See you more?
MARGERY
No, only flashing blades and glittering spears,
Arms lifted, huge men stricken to the knee,
Rising afresh and dealing stroke for stroke,
And others staggering, falling, trampled on,
To rise no more. I cannot brook the sight
Of savage strokes.
LADY HERON
But Surrey and the King?
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It is no longer possible to say,
The melly grows so thick. But you descry,
There in the midway opening of the wood,
Nigh to the welling fountain that we know,
The rival Standards, and they must be there.
See! Scotland's is pushed back.
MARGERY
And now it droops
And is or lowered or folded from the sight.
LADY HERON
O, if I had but your young eyes! Yes! now,
Now—now—the Flag of England floats and flies
In triumph o'er the field. I see it plain.
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It yet may be a feint; for Scottish brains
Are canny as the Scottish blood is brave.
Yet seems it as though everywhere they feel
The weight of English numbers.
LADY HERON
And the force
Of Surrey's skill. His breast is full as stout,
His mind more domineering, will like steel
That takes not nay!
MARGERY
(aside)
Be cautious, lady, lest
The carles surmise the secret of your heart.
LADY HERON
Think you I reck of that? Were I but there,
I would bid the trumpets shrill it o'er the field,
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Proud to be reckoned 'mong his followers.
MARGERY
Bide, bide, till that he comes with victor wounds
Gaping for woman's tenderness.
SENESCHAL
All is lost!
Lost, lost, for Scotland is this brief affray.
See, everywhere they give, both flanks outflanked,
And forced back to the centre. None save fools
Now would abide for butchery, but find
Shelter from death, to face another fight.
Rout, panic, following fury, wend this way,
The worsted to bestride the Till before
Escape be barred, the victors to o'ertake
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With blade and pike, and shouts of mastery.
MARGERY
O, I can look no more! Donald is there!
LADY HERON
Now, glory be to Surrey!
MARGERY
And to Heaven!
You forget Heaven and God!
LADY HERON
Surrey is Heaven to me,
And God as well!
MARGERY
He would be first to chide,
If he did hear you! Shall we not descend,
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For comfort of the sore who claim from Ford
God's truce and woman's pity?
LADY HERON
Yes! ajar
Roll Ford's main gate, that friend and foe alike,
Conquering and conquered, may such pallet find
As it can give them. [Aside]
Sure, he too will come,
And let me loose his belt, and wipe his brow,
And tend upon his triumph.
SENESCHAL
I were shamed,
But for my stiffening limbs, to have been so nigh
A fight so stubborn, and not share in it.
But the years follow on the years, and we
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When we shall neither fight nor fret us more.
LADY HERON
'Tis better to think less upon the end,
More of the march.
SENESCHAL
But thought runs before
That end of all our ends, and wonders what
Will be our welcome there!
LADY HERON
Well, to descend.
[Exeunt Omnes, save Lady Heron. Margery swiftly returns.]
MARGERY
Gramercy! How they come! The gate stands wide,
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And through they pour, a miserable crowd,
Some hale, but gasping, others limping sore,
Few with their weapons, in their armour none,
For cast away in flight. The Seneschal
And all your servitors attend on them.
And, night at hand, those born to be obeyed
Call off the human sleuthhounds of the chase
From following into Ford.
LADY HERON
'Tis well. Go, see
The wounded lack for nothing Ford can give,
And bid the Chaplain wait upon the dying.
MARGERY
He is there, already.
[Enter Donald.]
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Madam, Surrey comes,
With triumph-red retainers at his heels.
[Enter Surrey, with armed attendants, to whom he signifies they are to retire.]
LADY HERON
Surrey! Great Surrey!
[Margery seeks to retire with Donald.]
SURREY
Go not, little maid!
It freshens one to see so young a thing,
After the brawny fellows of the fight.
She is a running stream to thirsty lips,
Is she not, Lady?
LADY HERON
She indeed must be.
We elders are too stagnant.
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What a rout!
[Lady Heron undoes his belt, and Margery takes his casque.]
But oh! how many upon either side,
Stalwart and sinewy, still in April trim
Alike for war or wooing, who had not
Yet done with life, but had to put it off
At bidding of Bellona, lie outstretched,
With mire-fouled love-locks and death-tethered limbs,
Mute as the marble that should honour them.
LADY HERON
Nay, tell me not of that! I turn away
Even from the imagination of the sight.
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And yet—and yet! Theirs was a glorious death,
Making them princely all, and their great souls
Have gone before the Judgment Throne of Heaven,
Absolved from life's offences by its close,
Henceforth to be—for so conceives my thought—
The chosen troop and bodyguard of God!
The field once won, pursuit delights me not.
There always are enough for that. Withal
One must not baulk them of their quarry quite,
Or never would they take the scent again,
That leads to victory. Never have I faced
So stout, so brave, so masculine a foe.
Now, by my English sword, these Scottish hearts
Held on unvanquished when outvanquished quite
By strategy and numbers. Could we twain,
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One kingdom and one people, I aver
In battle we could front an envious world,
And not be worsted.
LADY HERON
Saw you my husband?
SURREY
I ne'er have seen him, so I cannot say.
But I beheld an instant Ford's device
Among my wavering wing upon the right,
Wherein confusion reigned, and many seemed
Baffled and captured.
LADY HERON
And the Scottish King?
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Alas! Alas! Death holds him prisoner!
And all the wealth of all the world is not
Enough to rescue or to ransom him.
LADY HERON
Dead! And how died he?
SURREY
As becomes a King!
As I myself would die, did Heaven but leave
How to our choosing! Late, but cramming close
The moments left him with heroic deeds;
Here, there, restoring everywhere at once
The balance of the battle. Had he not been
Somehow belated,—why, I cannot say,—
And those first strokes that oft decide the last
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My vantage had been smaller, victory less,
My death-roll larger, and the King himself
Still 'mong the living.
LADY HERON
Tell me, to whose blade
Did the King fall?
SURREY
To mine, or rather, his own.
When first I saw him plain, he seemed inflamed
By something, some one, hidden from surmise,
And, when first eye to eye with me in fight,
He towered to strike, then rushed upon my sword,
Ere I had time to swerve with it, and aim
Not in the very death's eye of life's target,
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That scores surrender. O, the pity of it!
LADY HERON
(to MARGERY)
Go, child, unto the gate, and bring back word,
If there be couch and food enough for all.
You will not grudge her for a few brief moments
For service so intent and womanly?
SURREY
Better employed than so she could not be.
Hence, tenderly, and see you how they fare,
For seeing you will make them fare the better;
And bring back speedy word, for I myself
Would move among them, though less helpful, i'faith,
Alike in speech and seeming.
[Exit Margery.]
136
Who sent me to the shock with trustful words,
And make me welcome with such gracious ones,
Now that the deed is done, can Ford to-night
Concede to me its shelter?
LADY HERON
All Ford hath,
And all that is within it, save it be
That sock-lamb, Margery.
SURREY
Her tender years
And maidenhood ensure her sanctuary
From the most sacrilegious gaze alive.
Her whiteness shows against a sinful world,
Like wing-furled swan anchored on leaden mere.
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I spake in jest. But all the rest is yours,
As though you had, like Flodden, conquered it.
Your chamber hath been furnished hard by mine,
And by my hand sweetened with lavender,
Soft-carpeted from sound of voice or tread,
Pillow, and sheet, and quilt, and coverlet,
As for a kingly head; drugs to deep slumber,
When further waking wearies you. Myself
Will linger on your wants, await your will,
And, if I only may your handmaid be,
I will be that, be more!
SURREY
Such lavish thought
Makes you all that and more. And, ere nurse night
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Here we will sit and talk—
LADY HERON
Yes; talk alone—
SURREY
Of things that were, and things that are to be,
As far as man can see them. But before
Guerdon so welcome may befall me, I
Must write unto my Sovereign Lord, King Harry,
And tell him how his army fared to-day,
My preconceivëd moves and purposes,
And fortunate fulfilment.
LADY HERON
Would you be
Here, or within your chamber, for that task?
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That duty, rather. Here, so it be your pleasure,
But now at once, wherever it may be.
For there are mounted messengers who wait
To speed them south, by rapid stage and change
Of stirrup and self-spurring steed.
LADY HERON
Here then
Remain, and I unwillingly will go,
And leave you quiet to your victor scroll.
But ere I quit you, just one little word!
King James, when you had left me, hither came,
And long while lingered.
SURREY
Here? And wherefore here?
Was it to make a survey of the field
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LADY HERON
No! No! How wrongfully you misconceive!
Swift on your going hence he hither came,
In answer to my summons. Can you not
Surmise the wherefore?
SURREY
Not unless it were
For further ordering of his battle-ranks,
And you were forced to tolerate his will.
I blame you not.
LADY HERON
No, no, 'twas not for that.
He came—for me! Came in soft amorous mood,
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I for your sake decoyed and kept him here.
SURREY
How? For my sake? Here, for my sake? And why?
In very sooth I understand you not.
LADY HERON
How slow of wit men ofttimes are! Why, sure,
That he might sue, and linger, and be late!
SURREY
Late! And for what? You do not, cannot mean—
LADY HERON
Late for the hurricane of battle, and so
Your victory more swift, and safe, and sure!
[Re-enter Margery.]
142
How! Can it be that I have heard aright?
O, you abominable woman, you!
In what fell, dark, and execrable night
Were you begotten, that should straight have been
Stuffed out of living sight, a monstrous birth,
And never thought of more; a lure, a lie,
For honest men in their enfeebled hours.
You have robbed me of my victory, James of life,
And Scotland of her King!
[She moves towards him, as though she would kneel and cling to his sword.]
Touch not my sword!
[Surrey shrinking from her.]
And desecrate what is anointed still
With sacred blood of trusting King betrayed.
Were you a man, I would slay you where you stand,
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Away! I care not where, so you away,
And cleanse the air by going. Nay, hide on
In your foul ambuscade, Hell's loathliest hags
Could not make fouler. By such fiends as you
Undoing comes to men, and death to kingdoms.
[Turns towards Margery.]
Poor little maiden! so an you be wise,
You will let me find you safer company
And surer shelter.
MARGERY
I will stay with her,
And tend her with such comfort as I can,
Through woe, wrong, merciless or self-reproach,
Till she be comforted.
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Office of charity
Meet for your sex and years. But have a care
You do not catch the leprosy from her,
Whom you would cure!
[Exit.]
LADY HERON
O, I have lost them both,
One dead, one more disdainful than is death,
More deaf, more deadly! Was it Surrey went?
Where hath he gone? For thither would I go,
Were it to join the doomed! Both lost! Both gone!
While I am in this vast unfeeling world,
I, feeling all!
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Then, Lady, let me send
For your liege husband, who will surely come.
LADY HERON
No, not for him! Then should I sin again,
If I have sinned already. Be that all
The bitter balm that you can offer me,
Prithee be silent! If he came, my heart
As at Heaven's very Judgment-seat would cry,
“Where, where is Surrey?” driving him afresh
Where he is better than with such as I.
O, 'tis a cruel and a captious world!
Because I blazon forth what others hide,
I am condemned. Aye, Surrey's self condemns me.
For what? For loving. What is it he loves?
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His cause, his country—all of it, his, his, his!
And I—love him! being thus the lesser thing,
The lesser and the viler! Even now,
It scarcely seems so.
MARGERY
I am not your judge,
Neither is Surrey. If he be unjust—
LADY HERON
Man always is. He whirls away our will
With the convulsive currents of his own,
And then, disdaining us for lightsomeness,
Forthwith submerges.
[Enter an English Gentleman-at-Arms.]
147
Lady, I am bid
By the Commander of the English Camp
To bring a gift for you to look upon.
LADY HERON
Then, he relents! I knew he would relent.
He could not be so hard to one so soft,
Or stab to death one who but lives for him.
[Re-enter Gentleman-at-Arms, followed by Four Soldiers carrying on their shoulders a burden with a military cloak cast over it, which they set down. Gentleman-at-Arms takes off the cloak.]
GENTLEMAN-AT-ARMS
Behold the gift!
148
The body of King James!
Take it away. 'Tis good for nothing now.
It will nor kneel, nor fawn, nor sue, nor sing,
And irks in death more than it did in life.
GENTLEMAN-AT-ARMS
(re-covering the body)
Madam, I do as I was bid, and now
Must bear it to the Scottish Capital,
Where it awhile will lie in regal state,
Ere it be piously sepulchred to rest
With its long ancestry of Warrior Kings.
LADY HERON
O—h!
[Covers her face with her hands and turns away. The Soldiers withdraw, bearing away the body of James. Margery approaches her.]
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Kneel with me, dear, and pray to One who will
Forgive us all, James, Surrey, you, and me—
The Almighty Pardoner.
LADY HERON
Hence with such vain comfort!
And I am in no mood to be forgiven!
Where is his sword, that I may die on it?
Gone with the wearer!
He said that he would slay me! So he shall!
Take him my body! Return gift for his!
I still have this, given me that night, that night!
[Seizes a dagger lying close at hand, and unsheathes it. Margery rushes to the door, calling “Help! Help!” Seneschal, Donald, and Servitors rush in.]
150
Help! Help! What use of help, when hope is none?
Thus do I baffle help, and bid farewell
To life, love, everything!
[Stabs herself, and dies.]
THE END
| Flodden Field | |