University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

An open space before a royal tent; the curtains of which are drawn up, and show a company of warriors and dames within it. On either side of the open stage soldiers are drawn up in order. Enter two petty Thanes on the front of the stage.
1st Thane.
Here let us stand and see the ceremony.
Without the tent, 'tis said the king will crown
The gallant ethling with a wreath of honour,
As the chief agent in this victory
O'er stern Carwallen and his Britons gain'd.

2d Thane.
Thou sayest well. Within the royal tent
They wait, as I am told, the ethling's coming,
Who is full tardy. Softly, they come forth.
How like a ship with all her goodly sails
Spread to the sun, the haughty princess moves!

[A flourish of trumpets. Enter from the tent the King, with Ethelbert, Edrick, Thanes, and attendants; and Elburga, with Dwina and ladies. They advance towards the front of the stage.
King.
Nay, sweet Elburga, clear thy frowning brow;
He who is absent will not long delay
His pleasing duty here.

Elb.
On such a day, my lord, the brave I honour,
As those who have your royal arms maintain'd
In war's iron field, such honour meriting.
What individual chiefs, or here or absent,
May therein be concern'd, I little care;
I deign not to regard it.

King.
Thou art offended, daughter, but unwisely.
Plumed with the fairest honours of the field,
Such pious grief for a brave father's death,
Bespeaks a heart such as a gentle maid
In her faith-plighted lord should joy to find.

Elb.
Who best the royal honours of a prince
Maintains, best suits a royal maiden's love.

King.
Elburga, thou forgetst that gentleness
Which suits thy gentle kind.

Elb.
(with much assumed stateliness).
I hope, my lord,
I do meantime that dignity remember,
Which doth beseem the daughter of a king!

King.
Fie! clear thy cloudy brow! it is my will
Thou honour graciously his modest worth.
[Elb. bows, but smiles disdainfully.
By a well feigned flight, he was the first
Who broke the stubborn foe, op'ning the road
To victory. Here, with some public mark
Of royal favour, by the hand receiv'd,
I will to honour him; for, since the battle,
A gloomy melancholy o'er him broods,
E'en far exceeding what a father's death
Should cast upon a youthful victor's triumph.
Ah! here he comes! look on that joyless face!

Elb.
(aside to Dwina, looking scornfully to Edward as he approaches).
Look with what slow and piteous gait he comes!
Like younger brother of a petty Thane,
Timing his footsteps to his father's dirge.

Dwina.
(aside).
Nay, to my fancy it is wond'rous graceful.

Elb.
(contemptuously).
A youth, indeed, who might with humble grace
Beneath thy window tell his piteous tale.

Enter Edward followed by Ethwald and attend-ants.
King.
Approach, my son: so will I call thee now.
Here is a face whose smiles should gild thy honours
If thou art yet awake to beauty's power.

Edw.
(kissing Elburga 's hand respectfully).
Honour'd I am indeed; most dearly honour'd;
I feel it here (his hand on his heart),
and should be joyful too,
If aught could gild my gloom.
[Sighs very deeply, then suddenly recollecting himself.
Elburga, thou wert ever fond of glory,
And ever quick to honour valiant worth;
Ethwald, my friend—hast thou forgotten Ethwald?

[Presenting Ethw. to her.
Elb.
Could I forget the warlike Thane of Mairnieth,
I must have barr'd mine ears against all sound;
For every voice is powerful in his praise,
And every Mercian tongue repeats his name.

[Smiling graciously upon Ethw.
King
(impatiently).
Where go we now? we wander from our purpose.
Edward, thy youthful ardour season'd well
With warlike craft, has crown'd my age with glory;
Here be thy valour crown'd, it is my will,
With honour's wreath, from a fair hand receiv'd.

[Giving the wreath to Elburga.
Edw.
(earnestly).
I do beseech you, uncle!—pray receive
My grateful thanks! the mournful cypress best
Becomes my brow; this honour must not be.

King.
Nay, lay aside unseemly diffidence;
It must be so.

Edw.
(impressively).
My heart is much depress'd:
O do not add
The burden of an undeserved honour,
To bend me to the earth!

King.
These warlike chieftains say it is deserv'd,
And nobly earn'd. It is with their concurrence
That now I offer thee this warrior's wreath;
Yes, ethling, and command thee to receive it.
(Holding up his hand.)
There, let the trumpet sound.

[Trumpets sound.
Edw.
(holding up his hands distractedly).
Peace, peace! nor put me to this agony!
[Trumpets cease.
And am I then push'd to this very point?
Well, then, away deceit! too long hast thou
Like the incumbent monster of a dream
On the stretch'd sleeper's breast, depress'd my soul;
I shake thee off, foul mate! O, royal sire,
And you, ye valiant Mercians, hear the truth!
Ye have believ'd, that by a feigned flight,
I gain'd the first advantage o'er the foe,
And broke their battle's strength; O would I had!
That flight, alas! was real; the sudden impulse
Of a weak mind, unprov'd and strongly struck
With new and horrid things, until that hour
Unknown and unimagin'd.—
Nor was it honour's voice that call'd me back;
The call of nature saved me. Noble Seagurth,
Had I been son of any sire but thee,
I had in dark and endless shame been lost,
Nor e'er again before these valiant men
Stood in this royal presence.
In all my fortune, I am blest alone
That my brave father, rescued by these arms,
Look'd on me, smiling through the shades of death,
And knew his son. He was a noble man!
He never turn'd from danger—but his son—

(Many voices at once.)
His son is worthy of him!

(Repeated again with more voices.)
His son is worthy of him!

Ethelbert (with enthusiasm).
His son is worthy
Of the noblest sire that ever wielded sword!

Voices.
Crown him, fair princess! Crown the noble Edward!

[Elburga offers him the wreath, which he puts aside vehemently.
Edw.
Forbear! a band of scorpions round my brow
Would not torment me like this laurel wreath.

[Elb. turns from him contemptuously, and gives the wreath to the King.
Edw.
(to King).
What, good my lord! is there not present here
A Mercian brow deserving of that wreath?
Shall he, who did with an uncover'd head
Your battle fight, still wear his brows unbound?
Do us not this disgrace!

King
(fretfully).
Thou dost forget the royal dignity:
Take it away.

Giving it to an officer.)
[A confused murmuring amongst the soldiers. (Aside to the seneschal, alarmed.)
Sen.
(aside to King).
Your troops, my sire, are much dissatisfied,
For that their favourite chief by you is deem'd
Unworthy of the wreath.

King
(aside).
What, is it so? call back mine officer.
(Taking the wreath again, and giving it to Elb.)
This wreath was meant for one of royal line,
But every noble Mercian, great in arms,
Is equal to a prince.
Crown the most valiant Ethwald.

Elb.
(crowning Ethw. with great assumed majesty).
Long may thy laurels flourish on thy brow,
Most noble chief!

[Ethw. takes the wreath and presses it to his lips, bowing to Elb., then to the King.
Ethw.
They who beneath the royal banner fight,
Unto the fortunes of their royal chief
Their success owe. Honour'd, indeed, am I
That the brave ethling hath so favour'd me,
And that I may, most humbly at your feet,
My royal sire, this martial garland lay.

[He, kneeling, lays the wreath at the King's feet; the King raises him up and embraces him; the soldiers clash their arms and call out.
Sold.
Long live the king! and long live noble Ethwald!

[This is several times repeated. Exeunt King, Edward, Elburga, &c. &c.; Elburga looking graciously to Ethwald as she goes off. Manent Ethwald and Ethelbert.
Eth.
(repeating indignantly as they go off).
Long live the king, and long live noble Ethwald!
Fie on the stupid clowns, that did not join
The gen'rous Edward's name!
(To Ethw., who is standing looking earnestly after the princess.)
What dost thou gaze on?

Ethw.
The princess look'd behind her as she went.

Eth.
And what is that to thee?
[Walks silently across the stage once or twice gloomy and dissatisfied, then turning short upon Ethw.
When wert thou last to see the lovely Bertha?

Ethw.
(hesitating).
I cannot reckon it unto the day—
Some moons ago.

Eth.
Some moons! the moon in her wide course shines not
Upon a maid more lovely.

Ethw.
I know it well.

Eth.
Thou dost.

Ethw.
(after a pause, looking attentively to Eth., who stands muttering to himself).
Methinks thou holdest converse with thyself.

Eth.
(speaking aloud, as if he continued to talk to himself).
She steps upon the flowery bosom'd earth,
As though it were a foot-cloth fitly placed
Beneath the tread of her majestic step;
And looks upon the human countenance,
Whereon her Maker hath the signs impress'd
Of all that He within the soul hath stored
Of great and noble, gen'rous and benign,
As on a molten plate, made to reflect
Her grandeur and perfections.

Ethw.
Of whom speakst thou?

Eth.
Not of the gentle Bertha.

[Exit.
Ethw.
What may he mean? He mark'd, with much displeasure,
The soldiers shout my name, and now my favour
With Mercia's princess frets him. What of this?
Ha! hath his active mind outrun mine own
In shaping future consequences? Yes,
It must be so, a curtain is withdrawn,
And to mine eye a goodly prospect shown,
Extending—No, I must not look upon it.

[Exit hastily.