University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

The Gate of the Castle.
Enter the Falconer and Ralph bearing two Falcons hooded for the field.
FALCONER.

Now a murrain on thee, Ralph! did I not bid thee to fist the blank falcon with the bare breast? He, that on our last day's sport, flew so lusty a flight after the two herons.

Ral.

The bird was full-gorg'd, master; and marvel it is, that there was one, unfed up, in the mew; for who would have thought that the king would have been minded to hawk to day?

Fal.

Who would have thought! there it is now; as if it became thee, Ralph, to think? No, Ralph, no; thinking, let me tell thee, hardly becomes thy betters. I, now, for example, whose style and title on the Chamberlain's roll stand thus, “His Majesty's first Yeoman Falconer,” whereas thou writest thyself, or rather they write for thee, sub, that is to say subaltern, which means no more than a mere underling. Now mark me, I, as being thy principal, should be principally entitled to think; was thinking, as I before noted, any part of our office.

Ral.

Nevertheless thoughts be free, master; and will

come into our brain whether they be in office or not.— Therefore I cannot help thinking that if one royal brother had been coffin'd before the other, that is to say instead of the other, that brother would not have taken his pastime thus timelessly.

Fal.

Drinking, thou know'st, Ralph, drives care away, and why may not hawking serve the same good purpose? However this be, his Majesty being minded to hawk, we, look you, must be minded to have our matters in readiness. Therefore cope me that tarsel's talons, and fasten the lease to his jesses more tightly. Mercy on me, what bells be these? Silver, sterling silver tho' they be, they look no better than base pewter; cleanse me them with the lappit of thy leathern doublet, and that instantly. Ha! what younker have we here thus fantastically accoutered?

Ral.

Belike it be some scape-goat from the Danish flock, for I saw two or three in the like trim, when the ambassador took his departure.

Enter CURAN. [Drest as a minstrel.]
Cur.
Give you good day, my masters; 'tis my wish
To rest awhile on this same portal bench,
If so no churlish porter would be angry.

Fal.

A smooth-tongued stripling, and withal honestly featur'd; sit where it listeth thee, for thou seemest, my pretty boy, to have outrun thy strength.

Cur.
Say rather I've outrun my breath, good falconer;
Give me a moment's pause, and these young legs,
I think, would bear me up a morning's sport
Close at your coursers' heel, nor should your hawks,
What time they darted at their feathered prey,
So fleetly pounce, but I would catch their game
Warm as it fell, or e'er it touch'd the ground.

Fal.

Why, when I was of thy age, stripling, and as lithe in the joints, I have often verified thy boast, let me tell thee.

Cur.

Doth the king hawk to day?

Fal.

He is so minded, my fair youth, we are here waiting his forth-coming.

Cur.
Say then, if, to beguile the ling'ring time,
I touch my harp, and chaunt to it a song,
Would it be welcome to thy ear, good falconer?

Fal.

Troth would it, my sweet lad; provided the burthen of thy song be not too tedious, and that the measure mar not the sense, as is too often the case with the new-fangled measures now a days.

Cur.
Fear it not, falconer, it shall be a song
Of which a Northern prince, some ages gone,
Fram'd both the rhymes and music; thou wilt find
From its sad burthen that he woo'd a princess
Of cruel sort, who mock'd his loving suit.

Fal.

There be others besides princesses, youth, who be such like mockers. I have heretofore met one myself in no nobler a shape than that of a miller's daughter. Tho' I was ev'n then in the king's patent service, and as tall of my inches as thou seest me at present. I will therefore

have a fellow feeling for thy prince, having experienced Dorcas's cruelty. Ale, however, helpt me to master my passion, and I prescribe the same remedy to thee, if thou ever should'st come to years of discretion, and should'st chance to be in the same plight: for there be ten excellent qualities in your sound-bodied ale, the first—

Ral.

Nay, master, if thou tellest him what these qualities be, in the same sermon-like way thou hast often divided them in my hearing, the king will be here ere we have the lad's ditty; and my ears tingle for it.

Fal.

Come on then, my dainty minstrel; we will have thy song first.

CURAN Sings.
[See the song entituled that of Harold the Valiant, in page 196 of Vol. I. and of which he is supposed to perform to his Harp one or more stanzas, till interrupted by the entrance of King Edel with Lords attending him to the field. He speaks to one of them entering.]
EDEL.
Go to, go to,
We will not waste one thought upon the Dane.
He goes displeased. Why, be it so; our state
Sits not so loosely on its well-laid base,
That Denmark, let him put his best strength to it,
Can shake its firmness. Said'st thou not their fleet
Were sail'd? whence then is this young minstrel?
He wears the Danish livery.

Lord.
Sir, I know not.

[Curan throws himself at the king's feet.
Cur.
My gracious Liege, for I will call thee mine,
For, if not mine, where may I find another?
Friendless, forlorn, left on a foreign coast,
By those whose ruthless hearts forbid my tongue
To call them countrymen. O sacred Sir,
Take pity on my wretched state; command
Some of your train to find me an employ,
The lowest not too low for present trial,
Till after proof of duty find me friends
May plead, in my behalf, to your dread ear.
Meanwhile I would not rust in idleness,
That bane of youth, and what too soon might dull
The small, yet practised, faculties I boast.

Ed.
Thou talk'st it smoothly, stripling, yet we fear
Thou art some elfish truant, who has dar'd
Thy vassalage throw off, or else, perchance,
For some committed fraud, has fled the stripes
Due to dishonesty.

Cur.
Think not thus harshly,
Great Monarch, of your slave. Know, I was born
Of honest parents, virtuously brought up
In fear of God, and man. My aged father
Doth now in Denmark's court, and in the presence,
Strike the chief harp, first of the minstrel band.
Me to Lord Sewold's train did he promote,
For that his Excellence did much applaud
My growing skill, and gave him cause to hope
Fair Argentile, Prince Curan's destin'd spouse,
Would, if she heard me touch the harp before her,
Make me her minstrel. In this hope I left
My lov'd and loving father. On the sea,
Full sorely was I sick, sick ev'n to death;
And, for remembrance of those piercing pangs
I own I loiter'd ('twas my only crime)
The hindmost, when Lord Sewold parted hence.
Which known, the Earl, with many a rigid menace,
Bade me “seek here those honours from the Saxons,
That he had fail'd to find.” These were his words;
Withal forbidding the remorseful shipmates
To let me mount the vessel. Cruel Dane!
I saw thee hoist thy sails, and call'd for pity;
I saw thy shallop fleetly cut the waves,
And call'd for pity, till my aching eye
Lost sight of the last barque: then on the strand,
Fell I as dead; till youth and nature struggling
Brought back unwelcome life. O gracious King!
Take pity on that helpless minstrel boy,
Who found none from his countrymen.

Ed.
In sooth,
My Lords, this Danish boy doth tell his tale
With such a bold and plain simplicity,
As much persuadeth us he speaks us true.
Hast thou, my boy, good skill in minstrelsy?

Cur.
So, Sire, to say would be too bold a vaunt;
For higher of that noble art I deem
And its try'd mystery, than yet to boast
I had arriv'd at ev'n the midmost pitch
Of music's high perfection.

Fal.

Please you, my Liege, the lad is too modest. If his fingers went by clock-work they could not wrestle with the wires more actively, nor, if a skylark roosted in his throat, could he carol to them more deliciously: he's the very prince of minstrels.

Ed.
Peace, knave, and mind thy hawks, and not his harp.

Cur.
If it seem good unto my gracious Lord,
I'll run to th' field at his proud courser's side,
And there some moments, ere the game be sprung,
Or at default, make essay of my art
On this slight instrument, striving my best
To sooth his princely ear.

Ed.
Come on then, boy,
We there will try thy skill. My Lords, to horse,
And meet us at the bridge, that spans the mote.
Ourselves at the west postern mean to mount.

[Exeunt severally, Curan following the king.