University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

—The inside of Guthrum's Tent.
Guthrum, Oswith, Ina, Chiefs, Alfred, Edwy, &c. &c.
Enter Edric.
Guth.
Come Edric, though not Fortune's friend, thou'rt mine.
Why didst thou stay behind? Sit by me, Edric.
Look to the minstrel!—See that his goblet's full!—
Let it o'erflow—See to't!

Os.
You feast not, love.

Ina.
No more do you.

Os.
I do not care to feast.
When the heart banquets, viands are pass'd by!

Edith.
[Entering.]
Your little Saxon favourite wants you, Ina.
He clamours for you, nought can quiet him.

Ina.
Nay, try and soothe him. If he baffles thee,
Why bring him hither, then!

[Edith goes out.
Guth.
Come, strike your harp!
We'd hear a strain; and prithee let it be
A warlike one. The triumph of the Dane—
Cast thou play that?

Alf.
Accurséd be the bard
That sings his country's shame! Her glory, chief,
I'll sing! My harp hath often rung with it!
Shall ring again! Or if the theme be done,
The strings, which many a year my hands have kiss'd,
I'll tear from their loved frame, though as they snap
My heart-strings break, and I partake the ruin!

Guth.
By Odin, but thou'rt bold! I like thee for't.
Play what thou wilt. Well! what's to be the strain?

Alf.
The downfall of Cadwallon.

Guth.
What was he?

Alf.
The Saxons' foe.

Alfred plays while Edwy sings.

Guth.
Well done! A strain that for a warrior's ear!
For me, thrice precious is the ruby cup
Since the enchanting strain has breathed upon it!
Drink, friends! Come!—Lips to brims; There's magic in
The cup! The health of him that pours it in—
“The bard,” the king of song, whose praise to sound
Becomes and not disparages the lips
Of kings themselves!

Alf.
[Aside.]
A regal nature his!
There's something in thee, Guthrum, I could claim
Close kindred with; but there's no grasping hands
For thee and me, save in the deadly strife
That ends the hope of one of us! I've gain'd
All needful knowledge. Ward of caution none
They keep—in our complete discomfiture
Secure. An easy prey they're sure to fall
To sudden onset from a band like ours,
Strong in their cause, and resolute of heart.

Enter Elswith, pale, emaciated, and in wretched attire.
Guth.
Ha! who art thou?

Els.
Who play'd that strain!

Guth.
Thou ask'st
As if reply were not a boon, but debt!
Whence gottest thou that air of high command?

Els.
From misery!

Guth.
She strangely teaches thee;
Making thee stately that makes others bow!
What seek'st thou here?

Els.
I heard a strain without;
I'd learn who play'd that strain.

Guth.
That harper.

Els.
He!
Hope, thou didst right to mock me! I have found thee
Still, a dissembler; yet would trust thee still!
But now farewell, thou thing of specious tongue,
But hollow heart!—smooth face, that's but a mask
To cover what we loathe—great promiser,
Little performer!—coiner of false smiles,
That turn out tears at last. I've done with thee!

[She sits in the centre.
Otho.
Thou sitt'st in Guthrum's presence.

Els.
What of that?
I have sat down with Despair—a greater chief
Than Guthrum—one could make him gnash his teeth!
Ay, could he, mighty as your master is!
I've sat down with Despair! Now show me Death!
I'll take my seat by him! I fear him not!

Alf.
Contain thyself, my heart!—It is my queen!

Guth.
Her mind's distracted!

Alf.
No!—It is her heart.

Ina.
Perhaps she hungers. Give her food!

[They present food to her.
Els.
Too rich!
Famine partakes not such! She feeds on haws,
Acorns, and roots, and berries! Give me these!
For these we thank the Dane!

Guth.
You thank the Dane!
Ha!

Alf.
'Tis a woman in affliction speaks!

Guth.
And let her speak! Yet does she mar the cheer.
Remove her!

Els.
Touch me not! Stand off! My name
Is Woe! I am the child of Wrath! Behold
How she has smitten me, and smitten me,
That mine own eyes don't know me! One hot day,
Parch'd up with thirst and hunger, of a brook
I stoop'd to drink, and saw myself, and scream'd
At presence of a stranger! Time makes things
Unlike the things they were; but Wrath's the changer!

Guth.
Persuade her to go hence.

Els.
I hear you! Ill
You entertain the guests you force to greet you!

Guth.
We force!

Els.
Ay!—burn them out of house and home!
Murder their husbands, and their children!—scatter
Their friends, that where a thousand troop to-day
Not one is found to-morrow!—bid them search
For viands in the larders of the wolf
And vulture! which, deriding them, perforce
They come to you!

Guth.
Hence with her! force her hence!

Alf.
[Starting up.]
Who hand of force lays on her, let him die!
And save thy manly name from the reproach,
That in thy presence, misery like this
Was offer'd insult with impunity,
And in the sacred person of a woman!

Els.
The voice too!—No! it is not, cannot be!

Guth.
Heard'st what she said?

Alf.
I did.

Guth.
Was't true?

Alf.
Free speech
Accord'st thou me?

Guth.
'Tis thine!

Alf.
The truth she speaks.
But one she seems 'mongst thousands, whom thy sword,
Ravenous of conquest, hath made widows of,
And childless mothers! Who, this hour thou feast'st,
Are famishing!—in their own land, without
Abode or food—and curse the hour when first
Thou trodd'st upon their shores!

Guth.
In their own land?
[He quits his seat and approaches Alfred.
Surely I heard thee not! In their own land?
'Tis mine!—all mine!—their land!—air! water!—they
Themselves!—All mine! Mine! Mine! They! Thou! Ay, thou!
That mock'st me!—bravest me!—thou, I say, art mine!
My thrall!—my slave!—a worm!—thing for my foot
To tread upon! Confess it!

Alf.
No!

Guth.
Thou wilt not!
Know'st thou the man thou tempt'st? Dost hear me? Think'st thou
I speak to thee by my page, to whom thou'rt free
To lend but half an ear?—mayst pass excused
To bear no duty in thine air, thine eye?
Mayst answer by a nod, or not at all? I'm Guthrum!
He whose breath's thy life! A look—
An only look of whose incenséd wrath
Might strike thee dead! Dost thou not tremble?

Alf.
No!

Guth.
Up, slave, and beg thy life!

Alf.
Why beg for that
I deem not worth the only asking for;
Moreover, that thou hast not power to take?

Guth.
Not power to take? Was never Guthrum braved
By mortal man before!—Not power to take!—
Guthrum is but a child!—Strong as my wrath,
My stronger wonder overpowers it quite,
And from a tempest quells me to a calm!
The reason? Come, I'll let thee have thy way,
Givest thou me but the reason. Come!—the reason?
Be it but half-sufficient, it shall weigh
Acquittance of thee! Come! the reason—come!

Alf.
Your royal word is warrant for my safety.
What by your leave I speak, yourself forbids you
To turn to evil 'gainst me.

Guth.
Right, by Odin!
You're always right! and you may speak again,
And freely as before!

[Resumes his seat.
Ina.
I prithee, Oswith,
Persuade thy countryman to leave the tent.
What now is safety may anon prove danger.
Fierce as 'tis sudden is my father's wrath;
And ever in the hour of social cheer
Most to be fear'd, and look'd for—Speak to him!
Conjure him to go hence.

[Oswith approaches Alfred.
Os.
Had he a steed—

Ina.
A steed?—An easy thing, my Oswith! Two—
The fleetest in the camp—shall be at hand,
Ready caparison'd—behind the tent—
That way conduct him hence.

[Whispers an Attendant, who goes out, while Oswith approaches Alfred.
Os.
My liege, your ear.

Edr.
[To Guthrum.]
You mark, my lord, he whispers him.

Guth.
I do.

Edr.
They understand each other.

Guth.
What of that?

Edr.
I'll keep my eye upon them.

Guth.
Heed them not.

Enter Edith with Ethelred.
Els.
Whose child is that? not thine!

Edith.
He is not mine.

Els.
He's not a Danish child!

Edith.
He's not.

Els.
Is he
A Saxon then?

Edith.
He is a Saxon child.

Els.
A Saxon! Pray you let me see his face!
He's mine!

Edith.
He shrinks from thee. He knows thee not.

Els.
Me can he know, that do not know myself?
He'll know my voice! My child! My Ethelred!
He knows it not! and is my voice changed too?
Or does my face false witness bear so strong,
He gives not credence to his mother's voice!
He is my child! Believe it for my tears,
My choking utterance, my bended knees,
And my imploring arms that sue to you,
And ask you for my child!

Alf.
[Aside.]
Does Providence
Vouchsafe such mercy!

Guth.
If the child is thine,
Thou'lt know where it was found.

Els.
Too well I know!
Both when and where. A castle did ye sack,
Whose tenant was the mother of that child.
At night the cry arose, “The Dane!” “The Dane!”
And then the bursting gate!—the clash of arms!
The shout!—the yell!—the shriek!—the groan!—which rage
And cruelty, and fear, and pain supply,
To make the concert, fell, of savage war!
That mother's care too safe had lodged her child
In the remotest chamber of the whole.
She ask'd for it; “The Dane!” was the reply.
She would have sought it; but they held her back,
And cried, “The Dane!” She shriek'd to be set free;
Now threaten'd!—now implored!—but all in vain!
“The Dane!” was all the answer she could get!
They forced her thence in cruel duty! Ay!—
In duty forced the mother from her child;
While lent the Dane a torch to light her path—
Her flaming towers that blazed about her boy!—
And she went mad!—yet still they bore her on;
Nor other heed to her distraction gave,
Except to cry, “The Dane!” “The Dane!” “The Dane!”

[Sinks exhausted upon a seat, clasping her forehead. Guthrum and Edric whisper.
Els.
Alas! they give not credence to my words!
Will no one plead for me? My countryman,
Essay your art! Hast not some melting strain—
Such as draw tears whether they will or not?
As moves. [Recognising Alfred.]
I've found him!

Edr.
[Coming forward.]
Whom? Whom hast thou found?

Els.
[Recollecting herself.]
My boy!

Edr.
[Aside.]
I thought she meant the minstrel.

Alf.
Yes!
She knows me, and I am a husband still!
I am a father and a husband still!
Oh, happiness, thou comest out of time!
Thou choosest ill the place to greet me in!
Thou mockest me to hold thine arms to me!
I dare not rush to their embrace! I'm poor,
With all the wealth thou say'st is mine again!
I dare not touch it! Better were it far,
I had not now been told on't.

Guth.
Take the boy!
But first true answer to our question give.
The castle where we found him was the king's!
Clad as no vassal's offspring was the child.
If thou his mother art, thou art the queen!
Art thou so?

Alf.
Guthrum, to the test I put
Thy nature! If 'tis worthy of thy state,
Thy prosperous fortune, and thy high renown,
Approve it now! Lo, Guthrum, do I play
The traitor for thy honour! In thy power
Thou hold'st the son and consort of thy foe!
Of Alfred! Use thy fortune as beseems thee!
Swear by thy God, they shall receive from thee
Safeguard of life and honour.

Guth.
Ay, by Odin.

Els.
Wouldst thou not take a ransom for us?

Guth.
Yes!

Els.
What ransom wilt thou take?

Guth.
Thy husband's crown!

Els.
Alas! he will not ransom us with that!

Alf.
He should not!

Guth.
Why?

Alf.
He wears it for his people.
The day he put it on he vow'd himself
Of them the father! To their parent land
It wedded him! His proper consort she!
'Twixt him and them, he knows not wife, or child,
He dares allow to stand!

Guth.
Minstrel, thou ravest!
He has not nature, who 'gainst nature's law
Could so deny his heart!

Alf.
He may have more!

Guth.
What?

Alf.
The command of nature. The attribute
Of kings who feel the import of their titles.
Which stops their ears against her piercing cries!
Which shuts their eyes against her thrilling looks!
Which lifts them so 'bove earth, they seem as though
They sat in some attendant brighter sphere,
Wherefrom they look'd and ruled her!

Guth.
Well thou said'st
Thy world was of the air! Thou dost not speak
Of things of earth! Thy sayings are not sooth!
I would thy king were here to prove thee but
A dreamer! With those jewels in his eye,
He would not see his crown! Yea, though it shone
Bright as it did before I thinn'd its studs!
Couldst find thy king?

Alf.
I could.

Guth.
Go seek him, then.
And when thou find'st him, greet him from me thus—
“Thy queen and son are now in Guthrum's power,
Pay thou but homage to the Dane, they're free.”

Alf.
I take my leave.

Els.
Guthrum. A boon!

Guth.
What is't?

Els.
I'd send a message to my lord!

Guth.
Thou shalt.
Stand all apart, that freely they confer.

Els.
And dost thou go; and wilt thou leave us here?

Alf.
I must. Alas! thou know'st not what thou say'st!

Els.
Thou'lt leave us here! Dost thou not love our child?

Alf.
Beyond my life!

Els.
And me?

Alf.
Beyond our child!

Els.
And must thou leave me? Oh! I have search'd for thee
Many, and many a day! Now fear'd thee, dead!
Now hoped thee, living! Search'd for thee alone!
One falling now; and now another off;
With my strong love unequal to keep pace.
Sleeping in woods and caves! On foot, by dawn;
Ne'er giving o'er till night again! Now food,
Now nothing! Scantily I fared to-day;
Yet 'twas not hunger brought me here, but thou,
In desperate hope to find thee! Art thou found,
But to be lost again?

Alf.
So were I found,
Went I not instant hence. Look in my eyes,
And read the husband and the father there,
In nature's undissembling language vouch'd!
But, hear the king!

Els.
Well!

Alf.
Paramount of all,
My public function! Husband—father—friend—
All titles, and all ties are merged in that!
Approve thyself the consort of a king!
I leave thee to return to thee! Return,
With freedom for thy child—for thee—myself—
For all—for all must perish, or be free!
And soon I come! So cheer thy heart with hope!
Farewell!

Els.
[aloud].
You'll bear my duty to my lord?

Alf.
I will.

Els.
Your hand that you will keep your word!

Alf.
There, lady.

Els.
Be thy hand my missive! Thus—
Thus with my tears I write my errand on't—
And with my lips—a faithful signet—seal it!
O, countryman! perhaps nor he nor thou
Shalt ever see me more! I feel as one
Amerced of life—that shakes a hand with all—
And asks a blessing from the meanest tongue!
Thy blessing, minstrel, ere thy mistress dies!

Alf.
What love would ask to light on head beloved—
What faith and virtue Heaven's own warrant have
To ask of Heaven—light on thy honour'd head!

Edr.
I'll see him eye to eye, ere he departs.

Alf.
Farewell!

Edr.
Stay, minstrel. Let me see thy face!

[Edric stops Alfred forcibly.
Os.
All's lost! [Half drawing his sword.]


Alf.
[Turning fully and sternly upon Edr.]
There, traitor!

[Edric, utterly confounded, staggers back.
Os.
Fly, my liege!—Away!

[Alfred, Edwy, and Oswith go out.
Guth.
What moves thee, Edric? What's the matter? Speak!
Why is thine eyeball fix'd, thy mouth agape?
What ails thy blood, that it forsakes thy cheek?
Why shakes thy frame?

Edr.
My liege!

Guth.
Out with it!

Edr.
The minstrel!

Guth.
What of the minstrel?

Edr.
Oswith plays thee false!
No minstrel leaves the camp; but Oswith thence,
Treacherous to thee, conducts thine enemy,
Alfred, the Saxon king!

Guth.
Ha, follow them!
Stop his retreat! Away! Alive or dead,
Have them before us!

[Edric, Otho, and others go out.
Els.
Mercy! Guthrum! Mercy!

[Clashing of swords.
Guth.
Remove her!

Els.
Where's the lightning!—What! no bolt
To blast the impious hand that threatens death
To his anointed head. O mercy! mercy!

[She is forced off, Edith following with the child.
Edr.
[without].
Traitor, give way.

Os.
[without].
Make way—for none I'll give.

[The fighting continues.
Guth.
Who aids him? Is there treason in the camp,
That thus the contest lasts? Give me my sword.

Ina.
[Kneeling to Guthrum.]
My father!

Guth.
[Not heeding her.]
Ho! my buckler and my spear!
With mine own hand will I transfix him!

Ina.
Father!

Enter Edric, wounded.
Edr.
At last, my lord, we've overpower'd him.

Guth.
Whom?

Edr.
Oswith.

Guth.
And Alfred?

Edr.
Alfred has escaped!

Guth.
Lay Oswith in chains.

Ina.
My father!

Guth.
To the God
I give him!—Odin, take him!—He is thine!
By thy victorious spear he bleeds to thee.
[Edric goes out.
Give him my child!—the traitor! Give him my blood!
I'd pour it out upon the altar first!
I would, with mine own hand! I'd look on her!
And do it! Look on her! Up, girl, and hence!
Ha! Do I see a statue or my child?
That cheek is marble by its hue!—Those eyes—
The chisel makes as good, for any touch
Of sense that's in them! What is it I've done?
Oh! they have loved and pined, and loved again
As fresh as ever! Take her to her couch!
She'll sleep—will she sleep? There, gently! I am grown
From fire to ice with looking on her. Ha!
For what have I done this?—Why stand you here?
What! have I paid so dearly for the prize,
And do you let it go? Pursue! Pursue!

[They go out.