University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A royal apartment. Elburga, as queen, discovered sitting on a chair of state, with Dwina, ladies, and officers of state attending.
Elb.
We've waited long: how goes the day?
knowst thou?

(To 1st officer.)
1st off.
As comes the light across this arched roof
From those high windows, it should wear, methinks,
Upon noon-day.

Elb.
And the procession to the royal chapel
Should at this hour begin. The king, perchance,
Is with affairs detain'd: go thou and see.
[Exit 1st officer.
I am impatient now.
[Voice heard without.
What voice is that?

First SONG without.
Hark! the cock crows, and the wind blows,
Away, my love, away!
Quick, don thy weeds and tell thy beads,
For soon it will be day.
1st lady.
'Tis sadly wild.

Dwi.
'Tis sad, but wondrous sweet.
Who may it be? List, list! she sings again.

Second SONG without.
Where layst thou thy careless head?
On the cold heath is my bed,
Where the moor-cock shuts his wing,
And the brown snake weaves his ring.
Safe and fearless will I be,
The coiled adder stings not me.
Elb.
(rising, displeased, from her seat).
Call those who wait without. What may this mean?

Enter an Attendant.
Atten.
Pardon, my royal dame! be not offended!
'Tis a poor maid bereaved of her mind.
Rent are her robes, her scatter'd locks unbound,
Like one who long through rugged ways hath stray'd,
Beat with the surly blast; but never yet,
Though all so sorely shent, did I behold
A fairer maid. She aims at no despite:
She's wild, but gentle.

Dwi.
O hark again!

Third SONG without.
[A pause.
Fourth SONG.
Ah, maiden! bear the biting smart,
Nor thus thy loss deplore;
The Thane's fair daughter has his heart,
He will return no more.
1st lady.
'Tis strangely melancholy.

Dwi.
'Tis like the mournful sounds which oftentimes
The midnight watcher, in his lonely tower,
Hears with the wailing blast most sweetly mingled.

Elb.
(to attendant).
Go thou and lead her hither.

Atten.
I will, great queen.—But here she comes unbidden.

Enter Bertha, with a wild unsettled air, and her hair scattered upon her shoulders. The ladies gather about her with curiosity.
1st lady.
How fair she is!

2d lady.
Her eyes of lovely blue,
Gentle, but restless. Dost thou see that glance?
[To 1st lady.
I fear to look upon her.

Dwi.
Fie, fie upon it! press not near her thus;
She seems offended: I will speak to her.
(To Berth.)
Sweet lady, art thou sad?
[Bertha looks steadfastly at her, then drops her head upon her breast, and makes no answer.
We would be kind to thee.

[Berth. then looks more gently on her, but is still silent.
1st lady.
Dost thou not speak, thou who canst sing so well?

Dwi.
Who taught thee those sweet notes?

Berth.
The night was dark: I met spirits on my way:
They sang me sweet songs, but they were sorrowful.

Dwi.
Ah, woe is me! and dost thou wander then,
In the dark night alone, no one to tend thee?

Berth.
When the moon's dark, I follow the night-bird's cry,
And it doth guide my way.—But he'll return,
So do they tell me, when sweet violets blow,
And summer comes again.

Dwi.
And who is he?

Berth.
List, and the winds will tell thee as they pass:
The stilly air will whisper it. But softly,
Tell it to none again. They must not know
How stern he is, for he was gentle once.

Dwi.
A cruel heart had he who could forsake thee!

Ber.
(putting her hand eagerly on Dwina 's mouth).
Hush, hush! we'll not offend him. He is great,
And must not be offended.

Elb.
(coming near her).
What, sayst thou he is great?
Rent are thy weeds, and thin thy ruffled robe:
Why didst thou leave thy home thus unprotected?

Ber.
(turning hastily upon her).
I saw his banner
streaming in the air,
And I did follow it.

Elb.
His banner in the air! What is thy love?

Berth.
(looking fiercely at her).
They say he is a king.

Elb.
(smiling).
Poor maid! 'tis ever thus with such as she;
They still believe themselves of some high state,
And mimic greatness.

Berth.
Thou art a fair dame and a gay—but go;
Take off thine eyes from me; I love thee not.
[Shrinks from Elburga, walking backwards, and looking frowningly at her; then beckoning to Dwina, she speaks in her ear.
They say a royal dame has won his faith,
Stately and proud. But in a gloomy dream
I heard it first, confused and terrible:
And oftimes, since, the fiend of night repeats it,
As on my pressed breast he sits and groans.
I'll not believe it.

Dwi.
What is thy name, sweet lady?

Berth.
(rubbing her hand across her forehead as if trying to recollect).
I had a name that kind friends call'd me by;
And with a blessing did the holy man
Bestow it on me. But I've wander'd far
Through wood and wilds, and strangely on my head
The numbing winds have beat, and I have lost it.
Be not offended with me—
For, lady, thou art gentle, and I fear thee.

[Bowing submissively to Dwina.
Enter Ethelbert.
Eth.
(to Dwina, after looking at Bertha).
What maid is that so haggard and so wild?

Dwi.
A wand'ring maniac, but so fair and gentle
Thou needs must speak to her.

Eth.
(going up to Bertha).
Fair lady, wilt thou suffer—gracious heaven!
What see I here! the sweet and gentle Bertha!
Ah, has it come to this! Alas, alas!
Sweet maiden, dost thou know me?

Berth.
(after looking earnestly at him).
I know thee well enough. They call thee mad;
Thy wild and raving words oft made the ears
Of holy men to tingle.

Eth.
She somewhat glances at the truth. Alas!
I've seen her gay and blooming as the rose,
And cheerful, too, as song of early lark,
I've seen her prattle on her nurse's lap,
Innocent bud! and now I see her thus.

[Weeps.
Berth.
Ah! dost thou weep? are they unkind to thee?
[Shaking her head.
Yes, yes! from out the herd, like a mark'd deer,
They drive the poor distraught. The storms of heaven
Beat on him: gaping hinds stare at his woe;
And no one stops to bid heav'n speed his way.

Eth.
(flourish of trumpets).
Sweet maid, retire.

Berth.
Nay, nay! I will not go: there be without
Those who will frown upon me.

Eth.
(endeavouring to lead her off).
I pray thee be entreated!

[Dwina takes hold of her also to lead her off, but she breaks from them furiously.
Berth.
Ye shall not force me! Wist ye who I am?
The whirlwind in its strength contends with me,
And I o'ermaster it.

Eth.
Stand round her then, I pray you, gentle ladies!
The king must not behold her.

[The ladies gather round Bertha, and conceal her.
Enter Ethwald, followed by Thanes and Attendants.
Ethw.
(after returning the obeisance of the assembly).
This gay and fair attendance on our person,
And on our queen, most honour'd lords and dames,
We much regard; and could my heart express—
[Bertha, hearing his voice, shrieks out.
What cry is that?

Dwi.
Regard it not: it is a wand'ring maid,
Distracted in her mind, who is in search,
As she conceits it, of some faithless lover.
She sings sweet songs of wildest harmony,
And at the queen's command we led her in.

Ethw.
Seeking her love! distracted in her mind!
Have any of my followers wrong'd her? Speak!
If so it be, by righteous heaven I swear!
The man, whoe'er he be, shall dearly rue it.

[Bertha shrieks again, and, breaking through the crowd, runs up to Ethwald. He starts back, and covers his eyes with one hand, whilst she, catching hold of the other, presses it to her breast.
Berth.
I've found thee now, and let the black fiend growl,
I will not part with thee. I've follow'd thee
Through crag and moor and wild. I've heard thy voice
Sound from the dark hill's side, and follow'd thee.
I've seen thee on the gath'ring twilight clouds,
Ride with the stately spirits of the storm.
But thou lookst sternly on me.
O be not angry! I will kneel to thee;
For thou art glorious now, as I am told,
And must have worship.

(Kneeling, and bowing her head meekly to the ground.)
Ethw.
(turning away).
O God! O God! Where art thou, Ethelbert?
Thou mightst have saved me this.

[Looking round, and seeing that Ethelbert weeps, he also becomes softened, and turns to Bertha with great emotion.
Berth.
They say she's fair and glorious: woe is me!
I am but form'd as simple maidens are.
But scorn me not; I have a powerful spell,
A Druid gave it me, which on mine arm
When once enclasp'd, will make me fair as she;
So thou wilt turn to me.

Ethw.
O Ethelbert! I pray thee pity me!
This sight doth move me, e'en to agony.
Remove her hence; but O deal gently with her!

[Ethelbert endeavours again to lead her off, and the ladies crowd about her. She is then carried out, and is heard to scream as they are carrying her.
Ethw.
(in great disorder).
Come, come away! we do but linger here.

[Elburga, who, since Ethwald 's entering, has remained in the background, but agitated with passions, now advances angrily to him
Elb.
So thou hast known this maid?

Ethw.
Fie! speak not to me now.

Elb.
Away, away!
Thou hast lodg'd softer passions in thy breast
Than I have reckon'd on.

Ethw.
(shaking her off).
Fie! turn thy face aside, and shade thine eyes!
That no soft passion in thy bosom lives,
Is thy opprobrium, woman, and thy shame.

Elb.
There are within my breast such thoughts, I trust,
As suit my lofty state.

Ethw.
(aside to Elb.)
Go, heartless pageant, go,
Lead on thy senseless show, and move me not
To do thee some despite.
(Aloud to the ladies.)
Move on, fair dames.
[To Elb., who seems unwilling to go.
The king commands it.

[Exeunt Elburga and ladies.
1st off.
(to Ethw., who stands with his eyes fixed on the ground).
Please you, my lord, but if you move not also,
The ceremony will, in sooth, appear
As marr'd and cut in twain.

Ethw.
What sayst thou, marshal?

1st off.
Please you, my lord, to move?

Ethw.
Ay, thou sayst well: in the soul's agony
A meaner man might turn aside and weep.

[Exit Ethw. with part of his train, the others ranging themselves in order to follow him. A great confusion and noise is then heard without, and a voice calling out “The king is wounded.” The crowd press back again in disorder, and presently re-enter Ethw. supported.
1st off.
My lord, how is it with you?

Ethw.
I fear but ill, my friend. Where is the man
That gave me this fell stroke?

1st off.
I cannot tell: they have surrounded him.

Enter 2d Officer.
2d off.
He is secured.

Ethw.
Is it a Mercian hand?

2d off.
It is, my lord, but of no high degree.
It is the frantic stroke of a poor groom,
Who did his late lord love; and, for that crime,
Last night, with wife and children weeping round him,
Was by your soldiers turn'd into the cold,
Houseless and bare.

Ethw.
Curse on their ruffian zeal!
Torment him not, but let him die in peace.
Would I might say—. I'm very faint, my friends:
Support me hence, I pray you!

[Exeunt, Ethw. supported.