University of Virginia Library

Scene VIII.

—Lea in Cheshire.
Edwin, Athulf, and Sidroc.
Sidroc.
Neither of them nor those that with them went
Nor those that went to meet them, can I glean
One grain of tidings. Even lies are scarce
And false reports arrive not.

Athulf.
They are lost.

Edwin.
Peace, Athulf! If you would not I lost heart
Now, when my courage will be needed most,
Speak not that word again. They shall be found.
Let us but march on Malpas.

Sidroc.
By the way
It may be we shall meet them. But if news
Of them be wanting, of the Danes 'tis rife.
In Somerset, which now they leave behind,
Town, hamlet, monastery, church and grange,
Lie smoking; and at Glastonbury Sweyne
Wasted the Abbot's lands, his treasure took,
And scared his bedrid mother, that she fled,
Though seized with mortal sickness.

Athulf.
Hurt to her
Strikes at the human corner of his heart.

Sidroc.
Upon him now, then, while his cheer is low.

Athulf.
Oh, Sidroc! what is ours?

Edwin.
Nay, hope the best;
Sidroc is right; on Malpas let us march,
Sending the women to our friends in Wales.