University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A Saxon hall in the former castle. Enter Elb. and Dwina, talking earnestly as they enter.
Elb.
But didst thou truly question ev'ry groom,
And the stern keeper of that postern gate?

Dwi.
I have, but no one knew that he is absent.
'Twas dark night when the king went forth, and Alwy
Alone was with him. This is all I know.

Elb
Thus secretly, at night! Sexford's castle
Is not far distant.—That distracted maid—
If this be so, by the true royal blood
That fills my veins, I'll be reveng'd! What meanst thou?

[Seeing Dwina shake her head piteously.
Dwi.
Alas! you need not fear; far distant stand
The towers of Ethelbert; and that poor maid
With the quiet dead has found at last her rest.

Elb.
And is't not well? Why dost thou shake thy head,
As though thou toldst sad news?—Yet what avails it?
I ne'ertheless must be a humble mate,
With scarcely e'en the semblance of a queen,
And bow my head whilst Mollo's son doth say,
“Be silent, wife.”—Shall I endure all this?
O Edward! gentle ething! thou who once
Didst bear the title of my future lord,
Wouldst thou have used me thus? I'll not endure it.

Dwi.
Yet be more patient.

Elb.
Be patient, sayst thou? Go to, for I hate thee,
When thou so calmly talkst. Though seemingly,
I oft before his keen commanding eye
Submissive am, thinkst thou I am subdued?
No, by my royal race! I'll not endure it:
I will unto the bishop with my wrongs;
Rever'd and holy men shall do me right:
And here he comes unsent for; this my hope
Calls a good omen.

Enter Hexulf.
Hex.
Thou hast it, royal daughter. Art thou well?
Thou seemst disorder'd.

Elb.
Yes, rev'rend father, I am sorely gall'd
Beneath a heavy and ignoble yoke;
My crowned head is in subjection bow'd,
Like meanest household dame; and thinkest thou
That it becomes the daughter of a king,
The chief descendant of your royal race,
To bear all this, and say that she is well?

Hex.
My daughter, your great lord indeed is form'd
Of soul more stern than was the gentle Edward,
On whom your maiden fancy first was taught
To dwell with sanguine hope.

Elb.
O holy Hexulf! thou hast nam'd a name
Which to my conscience gives such secret pangs:
Oh! I have done such wrong to that sweet youth,
My heart bleeds at the cruel thought. I would—
Yea, there is nothing that I would not do
In reparation of the wrong I've done him.
Speak, my good father, if thou aught canst say:
Edward, 'tis said, has many powerful friends
In secret still devoted to his cause,
And not far distant stands his dreary tower.
O speak to me!—Thou turnst away thy head
Disturb'd and frowningly: hast thou no counsel
For a soul-smitten and distracted woman?

[Laying her clasped hands earnestly on his shoulder, as he turns from her much displeased.
Hex.
Daughter, forbear! you are indeed distracted.
Ethwald, by right of holy bands your lord,
Is in his seat too firmly fix'd; and Edward
Is only by some restless Thanes desired,
Under the influence of that dark wizard,
That heretic who still ensnares the young.
Be wise then, I beseech you, and in peace
Live in the meek subjection of a wife.

Elb.
(stepping back from him with haughty contempt).
And so, meek, holy man, this is your counsel,
Breath'd from the gentle spirit of your state.
I've seen the chafings of your saintly ire
Restrain'd with less concern for sober duty,
When aught pertaining to your priestly rights
Was therein touch'd.

Dwi.
Hush! Ethelbert approaches with his friends:
They come, methinks, at an unwonted hour.

Hex.
That artful heretic regards not times;
His spells still show to him the hour best suiting
His wicked purposes.

Dwi.
Heaven save us all! methinks at his approach
The air grows chill around us, and a hue
Of strange unnatural paleness spreads o'er all.

Elb.
(to Dwi.)
Peace, fool! thy fancy still o'ertops
thy wit.

Enter Selred, Ethelbert, and Hereulf.
Eth.
In your high presence, gracious dame, we are
Thus early visitors, upon our way
To crave admittance to the royal chamber.
Is the king stirring yet? Forgive my boldness.

Elb.
Good Ethelbert, thou dost me no offence;
And you, Lord Selred, and brave Hereulf too,
I bid good morrow to you all. The king
Is not within his chamber: unattended
Of all but Alwy, at the close of night
He did go forth, and is not yet return'd.

Sel.
This much amazes me: the moon was dark,
And cold and rudely blew the northern blast.

Dwi.
(listening).
Hark! footsteps sound along the secret passage:
Look to yon door, for something moves the bolt.
The king alone that sacred entry treads.

Enter Ethwald from a small secret door, followed by Alwy, and starts back upon seeing Ethelbert, &c.
Ethw.
(recovering from his confusion).
A good and early morrow to you all:
I little thought—you are astir betimes.

Eth.
The same to you, my lord, with loving duty.

Sel.
And you too, royal brother, you are moving
At an unwonted hour. But you are pale!
A ghastly hollow look is in your eyes!
What sudden stratagem of nightly war
Has call'd you forth at such untimely season?
The night was dark and cold, the north wind blew,
And if that I can read that alter'd brow,
You come not back unscath'd.

Ethw.
(confused).
No, I am well.—The blast has beat against me,
And tossing boughs my tangled pathway cross'd:
In sooth I've held contention with the night.

Sel.
Yea, in good sooth, thou lookest too like one
Who has contention held with damned sprites.
Hast thou not cross'd that glen where, as 'tis said,
The restless ghost of a dead murd'rer stalks?
Thou shudd'rest and art pale! O, thou hast seen it:
Thou hast indeed the haggard face of one
Who has seen fearful things.

Ethw.
Thou'rt wild and fanciful: I have seen nothing:
I am forespent and faint; rest will restore me.
Much good be to you all!

(Going.)
Eth.
(preventing him).
Nay, on your royal patience, gracious king.
We must a moment's trespass make, to plead
For one, upon whose brave but gentle soul
The night of thraldom hangs.—

Ethw.
(shrinking back).
I know—I know thy meaning—speak it not.
It cannot be—there was a time—'tis past.

Sel.
O say not so; the time for blessed mercy
Is ever present. For the gentle Edward,
We'll pledge our lives, and give such hostages
As shall secure your peace.

Eth.
Turn not away;
We plead for one whose meek and gen'rous soul
Most unaspiring is, and full of truth;
For one who lov'd you, Ethwald; one by nature
Form'd for the placid love of all his kind;
One who did ever in your growing fame
Take most unenvious joy. Such is our thrall:
Yea, and the boon that we do crave for him
Is but the free use of his cramped limbs,
And leave to breathe, beneath the cope of heaven.
The wholesome air; to see the cheering sun;
To be again reckon'd with living men.

[Kneeling and clasping his knees.
Ethw.
Let go, dark Thane; thou rackst me with thy words;
They are vain sounds:—the wind has wail'd as thou dost,
And pled as sadly too. But that must be
What needs must be. Reckon'd with living men!
Would that indeed—O would that this could be!
The term of all is fix'd.—Good night to you—
I—I should say good morning, but this light
Glares strangely on mine eyes.

[Breaking from Eth.
Sel.
(following him).
My dearest brother, by a brother's love!

Ethw.
(putting him away with great agitation).
My heart no kindred holds with human thing.

[Exit quickly, in great perturbation, followed by Alwy.
Sel. and Hereulf
(looking expressively at each other, and then at Ethelbert).
Good Ethelbert, what ails thee?

Her.
Thy fix'd look has a dreadful meaning in it.

Eth.
Let us begone.

Sel.
No, do not yield it so. I still will plead
The gentle Edward's cause: his frowns I fear not.

Eth.
Come, come; there is no cause; Edward is free.

Sel.
How so? thou speakst it with a woeful voice.

Eth.
Is not the disembodied spirit free?

Sel.
Ha! thinkst thou that?—No, no; it cannot be.

Her.
(stamping on the ground, and grasping his sword).
I'll glut my sword with the foul murd'rer's blood,
If such foul deed hath been.

Eth.
Hush, hush, intemp'rate boy! Let us begone.

[Exeunt Eth., Sel., and Her.
Elb.
(to Dwi.)
Heardst thou how they conceive it?

Dwi.
Ay, mercy! and it is a fearful thought!
It glanc'd e'en o'er my mind before they spoke.

Elb.
Thou'rt silent, rev'rend father; are thy thoughts
Of such dark hue?

(With solemn earnestness to Hex.)
Hex.
Heaven's will be done in all things! erring man
Bows silently. Good health attend your greatness.

Elb.
Nay, go not yet, good Hexulf: in my closet
I much desire some converse with thee. Thou,
Belike, hast misconceiv'd what I have utter'd
In unadvised passion, thinking surely
It bore some meaning 'gainst my lord the king.

Hex.
No, gracious daughter, I indeed receiv'd it
As words of passion. You are mov'd, I see:
But let not this dismay you: if the king
Has done the deed suspicion fastens on him,
We o'er his mind shall hold the surer sway.
A restless penitent will docile prove
To priestly counsel: this will be our gain.
But in your closet we'll discourse of this.
Heaven's will be done in all things!

[Exeunt.