University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

—Castle Malwood. The King's Chamber.
Rufus
[starting from sleep].
Maria! Light! Help, help!

[Enter Chamberlains.]
1st Chamberlain.
A fearful cry!
My lord, what is 't?

2nd Chamberlain.
His eyes like shooting-stars
Blaze all about.

1st Chamberlain.
And dew is on his brow.
Speak, speak! My lord!

Rufus.
Bring me the candle, close—
Near, near!

1st Chamberlain.
'Twill fire the bed.

Rufus.
There hangs my cloak—
My hunting horn. And who are ye, black louts?
Those yonder are my boots? I must have dreamt;
Nearer, the light!—the comfortable light,
The earthly light, the light that shows me life.
And who are you?

2nd Chamberlain.
Your faithful chamberlains.

Rufus.
Show me your faces; they are dim and red.—
My dreams are bloody.—Ha! your pimpled nose
And your slant eye-lid, I have known them ere
I went to sleep. You are my chamberlains,
My common servants, born as other men,
And subject to like terrors with myself;
So do not leave me. Sit on either side,
And watch my pillow. Varlets, if you stir
Your haunches from each side of me, the day
Shall never dawn for either.

1st Chamberlain.
We will stay.

Rufus.
Hath the cock crowed? Ay! now his throat's at work.
You'll never hear that when your blood is shed;
'Tis of the earth and waking to the sun;
There is no clarion of judgment in 't.

1st Chamberlain.
A pleasant household noise! The day is near;
She's melting the cold east.

2nd Chamberlain.
And shadows wane
How fares my liege?

Rufus.
It was a sleep diseased.
I'm well.—This heart is full, and yet they drew
Medicinal red drops; they bled me, and—
Snuff the light, villains! Do you see, 'tis dull,
And ruddily the flame's obscured! Now sit—
For as they bled me, lo! my blood gushed up
To Heaven and put out the light of day.—
Maria!

2nd Chamberlain.
O my lord!—he calls again.
There is damnation in his face.

Rufus.
Look, look!
Out through the window is my blood, it glows
Across the sky, incarnadines the clouds,
And there is day behind it. Red, red, red!
Gules! Oh, blood-red!

1st Chamberlain.
It is the sunrise.

Rufus.
No!—
Is my heart rushing out?

2nd Chamberlain.
My lord, my lord!
Thus daylight comes. You've heard of rosy morn?
'Tis here. Indeed, the colour of the sun
Envermeils all the east.

Rufus.
Not mine, not mine?
It renders me my dream.

1st Chamberlain.
Yea, like the sun
You'll lift on high the scarlet of your reign,
That it will clothe the Heavens with its pride
And quite outdo yon Phœbus.

2nd Chamberlain.
So I think.
Such my interpretation of your dream.

Rufus.
Ha, ha! you teach me reason. From my heart
The ruby stream of empire shall expand
Until it dyes the vision of the world
With glory yet beyond.—I'll raise myself.
Ah! now I see the tree-tops, dingy, dun,
With just a spot of foliage down there
That's lurid with high blush from off the sky.
It's earth, familiar outlook, just the wood
Where I shall hunt to-day; I'll lie and rest;
I have a heavy head-ache. Who comes here?
Hamon!

[Enter Robert Fitz-hamon.]
Fitz-hamon.
Good day. You have a haggard look;
I fear that sleep hath been unmerciful,
As all soft wantons can be.

Rufus.
I have dreamt,
Have been appalled and shaken by a spark,
Until I called it doomsday.

Fitz-hamon.
Very strange.
Dreams multiply. Did aught of death invade
Your slumbers?

Rufus.
Ay, such hovered through the fog
Like Jack-o'-lantern. But these cunning knaves
(As nimble Joseph cheered the Court of Nile)
Make me a merry prophet.

Fitz-hamon.
Pray you, keep
From hunting in the forest. There's a load
This morning on my spirits.

Rufus.
It is hot;
And August weather makes a fool of you.
[Enter the Ætheling Henry.]
Well, Harry, shall we hunt?

Ætheling Henry.
So please you, yes.

Fitz-hamon.
I pray him not—for portents are about,
And I have waked uneasy.

Ætheling Henry.
Do not, then.
If Crœsus had attended to his dream
(The golden king of Lydia), he ne'er
Had lost his son, the hunter, from the dart
Of the young man's own friend.

Rufus.
Now none of that,
Your clerkly nonsense, Harry. Ay, we'll hunt,
But after meat. The fore-noon we'll devote
To business, for I plan a march to Rome.
I'll go where Anselm journeys—not with scrip,
But ringing shield, no staff, but ready spear.
Bring me cold water—I must freeze my head
To have it cool for projects! 'Tis full day.
Harry, the sun is after you, I'll swear
You stand a man of gold.—Get out, I'll dress.

[Exeunt.