University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A chamber in the castle. Enter Sigurtha and Bertha, speaking as they enter.
Berth.
Nay, mother, say not so: was he not wont,
If but returning from the daily chase,
To send an upward glance unto that tower?
There well he knew, or late or cold the hour,
His eye should find me.

Sig.
My gentle Bertha, be not thus disturb'd.
Such busy scenes, such new unlook'd-for things
Ruffle the flowing stream of habit; men
Will then forgetful seem, though not unkind.

Berth.
Thinkst thou?
(shaking her head.)
I saw him by his sovereign stand,
And O, how graceful! every eye to him
Was turn'd, and every face smil'd honours on him!
Yet his proud station quickly did he leave
To greet his humbler friends who stood aloof.
The meanest follower of these walls, already,
Some mark of kind acknowledgment hath had—
He look'd not up—I am alone forgotten!

Sig.
Be patient, child: he will not long delay
To seek thee in thy modest privacy;
Approving more to see thee here retired,
Than, boldly to the army's eye exposed,
Greeting his first approach. I, the mean while,
Intrusted am with orders from the Thane.
Which must not be neglected.

[Exit.
Berth.
(after walking up and down, agitated, and frequently stopping to listen).
Ah, no! deceiv'd again! I need not listen!
No bounding steps approach.

[She sits down despondingly. Enter Ethwald behind, and steals softly up to her.
Ethw.
Bertha!

Berth.
(starting up).
My Ethwald!

[He holds out his arms to her joyfully, and she bursts into tears.
Ethw.
Thou dost not grieve that I am safe return'd?

Berth.
O no! I do not grieve, yet I must weep.
Hast thou in truth been kind? I will not chide:
I cannot do it now.

Ethw.
O, fie upon thee! like a wayward child:
To look upon me thus! cheer up, my love.

[He smiles upon her joyfully, and her countenance brightens. She then puts her hand upon his arm, and, stepping back a little space, surveys him with delight.
Berth.
Thou man of mighty deeds!
Thou, whom the brave shall love and princes honour!
Dost thou, in truth, return to me again,
Mine own, my very Ethwald?

Ethw.
No, that were paltry; I return to thee
A thousandfold the lover thou hast known me.
I have of late been careless of thee, Bertha.
The hopeless calm of dull obscurity,
Like the thick vapours of a stagnant pool,
Oppress'd my heart and smother'd kind affections;
But now th' enlivening breeze of fortune wakes
My torpid soul—When did I ever fold thee
To such a warm and bounding heart as this?
[Embraces her.
The king has given to me Mairnieth's earldom—
Nay, smile, my Bertha!

Berth.
So I do, my Ethwald.

Ethw.
The noble ethling greatly honours me
With precious tokens; nay, the very soldiers
Do rear their pointed weapons as I pass;
As though it were to say, “there goes the man
That we would cheerly follow.”
Unto what end these fair beginnings point
I know not—but of this I am assured,
There is a course of honour lies before me,
Be it with dangers, toil, or pain beset,
Which I will boldly tread. Smiles not my love?

Berth.
I should, in truth; but how is this? methinks
Thou ever lookst upon the things to come,
I on the past. A great and honour'd man
I know thou'lt be: but O, bethink thee, then,
How once thou wert, within these happy walls,
A little cheerful boy, with curly pate,
Who led the infant Bertha by the hand,
Storing her lap with ev'ry gaudy flower;
With speckled eggs stolen from the hedgeling's nest,
And berries from the tree; ay, think on this,
And then I know thou'lt love me!
[Trumpet sounds. Catching hold of him eagerly.
Hearst thou that sound? The blessed saints preserve thee!
Must thou depart so soon?

Ethw.
Yes, of necessity: reasons of weight
Constrain the king, and I, new in his service,
Must seem to follow him with willing steps.
But go thou with me to the castle gate.
We will not part until the latest moment.

Berth.
Yet stop, I pray, thou must receive my pledge.
Seest thou this woven band of many dyes,
Like to a mottled snake? its shiny woof
Was whiten'd in the pearly dew of eve,
Beneath the silver moon; its varied warp
Was dyed with potent herbs, at midnight cull'd.
It hath a wond'rous charm: the breast that wears it
No change of soft affection ever knows.

Eth.
(receiving it with a smile).
I'll wear it, Bertha.
[Trumpet sounds.
Hark! it calls me hence.

Berth.
O go not yet! here is another gift,
This ring, enrich'd with stone of basilisk,
Whenever press'd by the kind wearer's hand,
Presents the giver's image to his mind.
Wilt thou not wear it?

Ethw.
(receiving it).
Yes, and press it too.

Berth.
And in this purse—

[Taking out a purse
Ethw.
What! still another charm?
[Laughing.
Thou simple maid!
Dost thou believe that witched gear like this
Hath power a lover faithful to retain,
More than thy gentle self?

Berth.
Nay, laugh, but wear them.

Ethw.
I will, my love, since thou wilt have it so.
(Putting them in his breast.)
Here are they lodged, and cursed be the hand
That plucks them forth! And now receive my pledge.
It is a jewel of no vulgar worth:
(Ties it on her arm.)
Wear it and think of me. But yet, belike,
It must be steeped in some wizard's pot,
Or have some mystic rhyming mutter'd o'er it,
Ere it will serve the turn.

Berth.
(pressing the jewel on her arm).
O no! right well I feel there is no need.

Ethw.
Come, let us go: we do not part, thou knowst,
But at the castle gate. Cheer up, my Bertha!
I'll soon return, and oft return again.

[Exeunt.