University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A vaulted prison. Hereulf, Selred, and three Thanes of their party, are discovered walking gloomily and silently up and down.
1st Th.
(to the 2d, who groans heavily).
Ah! wherefore, noble partner, art thou thus?
We all are brothers, equal in misfortune;
Let us endure it nobly!

2d Th.
Ay, so I would, but it o'ercometh me.
E'en this same night, in my far distant home
Fires blaze upon my towers, to guide my steps
Through woody dells which I shall pass no more.
E'en on this night I promis'd to return.

1st Th.
Yet bear it up, and do not dash us thus;
We all have pleasant homes as well as thou,
To which I fear we shall no more return.

Sel.
(to 3d Thane, who advances from the bottom of the stage).
What didst thou look at yonder? Where is Ethelbert?

3d Th.
Within yon deep recess, upon his knees,
Just now I saw him, and I turn'd aside,
Knowing the modest nature of his worship.

Enter Ethelbert from the recess, slowly advancing from the bottom of the stage.
Her.
(to Eth.)
Where has thou been, brave Ethelbert? Ah! now
Full well I see; thy countenance declares.
Didst thou remember us? A good man's prayers
Will from the deepest dungeon climb heav'n's height,
And bring a blessing down.

Eth.
Ye all are men who with undaunted hearts
Most nobly have contended for the right.
Your recompense is sure; ye shall be bless'd.

2d Th.
How bless'd? With what assurance of the mind
Hast thou pray'd for us? Tell us truly, Ethelbert;
As those about to die, or those who yet
Shall for a term this earthly state retain?
Such strong impress'd ideas oft foreshow
Th' event to follow.

Eth.
Man, ever eager to foresee his doom
With such conceits his fancy fondly flatters,
And I too much have given my mind to this;
But let us now, like soldiers on the watch
Put our soul's armour on, alike prepared
For all a soldier's warfare brings. In heav'n
He sits, who on the inward war of souls
Looks down, as one beholds a well-fought field,
And nobly will reward the brave man's struggle.
[Raising his clasped hands fervently.
O let Him now behold what His weak creatures,
With many cares and fears of nature weak,
Firmly relying on His righteous rule,
Will suffer cheerfully! Be ye prepared!

Her.
We are prepared: what say ye, noble colleagues?

1st Th.
If that I here a bloody death must meet,
And in some nook unbless'd, far from the tombs
Of all mine honour'd race, these bones be laid,
I do submit me to the will of heaven.

3d Th.
E'en so do I in deep submission bow.

2d Th.
If that no more within my op'ning gates
My children and my wife shall e'er again
Greet my return, or this chill'd frame again
E'er feel the kindly warmth of home, so be it!
His blessed will be done who ruleth all!

Her.
If these nerv'd arms, full in the strength of youth,
Must rot in the earth, and all my glorious hopes
To free this land, with which high beat this heart,
Must be cut off i' the midst, I bow my spirit
To its Almighty Lord; I murmur not.
Yet, O that it had been permitted me
To have contended in that noble cause!
Low must I sleep in an unnoted grave,
While the oppressor of my native country
Riots in brave men's blood!

Eth.
Peace, noble boy! he will not riot long.
They shall arise, who for that noble cause,
With better fortune, not with firmer hearts
Than we to the work have yoked, will bravely strive.
To future heroes shall our names be known;
And in our graves of turf we shall be bless'd.

Her.
Well then, I'm satisfied: I'll smile in death;
Yea, proudly will I smile! it wounds me not.

Eth.
How, Selred? thou alone art silent here:
To heaven's high will what off'ring makest thou?

Sel.
Nothing, good Ethelbert. What can a man,
Little enriched with the mind's rare treasure,
And of th' unrighteous turmoil of this world
Right weary grown, to his great Maker offer?
Yet I can die as meekly as ye will,
Albeit of His regard it is unworthy.

Eth.
Give me thy hand, brave man! Well hast thou said!
In truth thy off'ring far outprizes all;
Rich in humility. Come, valiant friends;
It makes my breast beat high to see you thus
For Fortune's worst prepar'd with quiet minds.
I'll sit me down awhile; come, gather round me,
And for a little space the time beguile
With the free use and interchange of thought:
Of that which no stern tyrant can control.

[They all sit down on the ground.
Her.
(to Eth.)
Nay, on my folded mantle do thou sit.

Eth.
I thank thee, but I feel no cold. My children!
We do but want, methinks, a blazing fire,
To make us thus a friendly chosen circle
For converse met. Then we belike would talk
Of sprites, and magic power, and marv'llous things,
That shorten weary hours; now let us talk
Of things that do th' inquiring mind of man
With nobler wonder fill; that state unseen,
With all its varied mansions of delight,
To which the virtuous go, when like a dream
Struck by the beams of op'ning day, this life,
With all its shadowy forms, fades into nothing.

1st Th.
Ay, Ethelbert, thou'rt full of sacred lore;
Talk thou of this, and we will gladly heart thee.
How thinkst thou we shall feel, when, like a nestling
Burst from its shell, we wake to this new day?

Eth.
Why e'en, methinks, like to the very thing
To which, good Thane, thou hast compared us;
For here we are but nestlings, and I trow,
Pent up i' the dark we are. When that shall open
Which human eye hath ne'er beheld, nor mind
To human body linked, hath e'er conceiv'd,
Grand, awful, lovely:—O! what form of words
Will body out my thoughts!—I'll hold my peace.
[Covers his head with his hand and is silent for a moment.
Then like a guised band, that for awhile
Has mimick'd forth a sad and gloomy tale,
We shall these worthless weeds of flesh cast off,
And be the children of our Father's house.

Her.
(eagerly).
But what sayst thou of those who doff these weeds
To clothe themselves in flames and endless woe?

Eth.
Peace to thee! what have we to do with this?
Let it be veil'd in night!

Her.
Nay, nay, good Ethelbert!
I fain would know what foul oppression earns;
And please my fancy with the after-doom
Of tyrants, such as he beneath whose fangs
Our wretched country bleeds. They shall be cursed:
O say how deeply!

Eth.
Hereulf, the spirit of Him thou call'st thy master,
Who died for guilty men, breathes not in thee.
Dost thou rejoice that aught of human kind
Shall be accursed?

Her.
(starting up).
If not within the fiery gulf of woe
His doom be cast, there is no power above!

Eth.
For shame, young man! this ill beseems thy state:
Sit down and I will tell thee of this Ethwald.

Sel.
(rising up greatly agitated).
O no! I pray thee do not talk of him!
The blood of Mollo has been Mercia's curse.

Eth.
Sit down; I crave it of you both; sit down
And wear within your breasts a manlier spirit.
[Pointing to Her. to sit close by him.
Nay here, my son, and let me take thy hand.
Thus by my side, in his fair op'ning youth,
Full oft has Ethwald sat and heard me talk,
With, as I well believe, a heart inclined,
Though somewhat dash'd with shades of darker hue,
To truth and kindly deeds.
But from this mixed seed of good and ill
One baleful plant in dark strength rais'd its head,
O'ertopping all the rest; which fav'ring circumstance
Did feed and strengthen to a growth so monstrous,
That underneath its wide and noxious shade
Died all the native plants of feebler stem.
O I have wept for him, as I have lain
On my still midnight couch! I tried to save him,
But ev'ry means against its end recoil'd.
Good Selred, thou rememb'rest well that night
When to the female Druid's awful cave
I led thy brother.

Sel.
I remember well.

All the Thanes
(speaking at once, eagerly.)
Ay, what of that? We've heard strange tales of it.

Eth.
At my request the Arch Sister there receiv'd him:
And though she promis'd me she would unfold
Such things as might a bold ambitious mind
Scare from its wishes, she, unweetingly,
Did but the more inflame them.

Her.
Ha! what sayst thou?
Did she not show the form of things to come
By fix'd decrees, unsubject to her will?

Eth.
She show'd him things, indeed, most wonderful;
Whether by human arts to us unknown,
Or magic, or the aid of powerful spirits
Call'd forth, I wot not. Hark! I hear a noise.

1st Th.
I hear without the tread of many feet.
They pull our dungeon's bars: ha, see who come!
Wear they not ruffians brows?

2d Th.
And follow'd still by more: a num'rous crew.
What is their business here?

[Enter a band of armed men, accompanied by two priests, and carrying with them a block, an axe, and a large sheet or curtain, &c.
Eth.
Do not the axe and block borne by those slaves
Tell thee their errand? But we'll face them bravely.
They do not come upon us unawares:
We are prepar'd.—Let us take hands, my friends!
Let us united stand, a worthy band
Of girded trav'llers, ready to depart
Unto a land unknown, but yet undreaded.

[They all take hands, facing about, and waiting the approach of the men with a steady countenance.
1st priest.
Why look you on us thus with lowering brows?
Can linked hands the keen-edg'd steel resist?

Her.
No, priest, but linked hearts can bid defiance
To the barb'd lightning, if so arm'd withal
Thou didst encounter us. Quick do thine office!
Here six brave heads abide thee, who ne'er yet
Have meanly bow'd themselves to living wight.

1st priest.
You are too forward, youth: less will suffice:
One of those guilty heads beneath our axe
Must fall, the rest shall live. So wills our chief.
Lots shall decide our victim: in this urn
Inclosed are your fates.
[Setting down an urn in the middle of the stage upon a small tripod or stand, whilst the chiefs instantly let go hands, and stand gazing upon one another.
Ha! have I then so suddenly unlink'd you?
[With a malicious smile.
Put forth your hands, brave chiefs; put forth your hands;
And he who draws the sable lot of death,
Full speedy be his doom!
[A long pause: the chiefs still look upon one another, none of them offering to step forward to the urn.
What pause ye thus, indeed? This hateful urn
Doth but one death contain, and many lives,
And shrink ye from it, brave and valiant Thanes?
Then lots shall first be cast, who foremost shall
Thrust in his hand into this vase of terrors.

Eth.
(stepping forth).
No, thou rude servant of a gentle master,
Doing disgrace to thy much honour'd garb,
This shall not be: I am the eldest chief,
And I of right should stand the foremost here.
[Putting his hand into the urn
What heaven appoints me, welcome!

Sel.
(putting in his hand).
I am the next: heav'n send me what it lists!

1st Th.
(putting in his hand).
Here also let me take. If that the race
Of noble Cormac shall be sunk in night,
How small a thing determines!

2d Th.
(putting in his hand).
On which shall fix my grasp? (hesitating)
or this? or this?
No, cursed thing! whate'er thou art, I'll have thee.

3d Th.
(putting out his hand with purturbation, misses the narrow mouth of the urn).
I wist not how it is: where is its mouth?

1st priest.
Direct thy hand more steadily, good Thane,
And fear not thou wilt miss it.
(To Hereulf.)
Now, youthful chief, one lot remains for thee.

[Hereulf pauses for a moment, and his countenance betrays perturbation, when Ethelbert steps forth again.
Eth.
No, this young chieftain's lot belongs to me;
He shall not draw.
[Putting in his hand quickly and taking out the last lot.
Now, priest, the lots are finish'd.

1st priest.
Well, open then your fates.

[They each open their lots, whilst Hereulf stands looking eagerly in their faces as they open them.
2d Th.
(opening his, and then holding up his hands in ecstasy).
Wife, children, home! I am a living man!

1st Th.
(having opened his).
I number still with those who breathe the air,
And look upon the light! blest heaven so wills it.

3d Th.
(looking at his joyfully).
Fate is with me! the race of Cormac lives!

Her.
(after looking anxiously first upon Ethelbert and then upon Selred).
Selred, what is thy lot? is it not dark?

Sel.
No, Hereulf.

Her.
Oh, Ethelbert! thou smilest on me! alas!
It is a dismal smile! thou art the victim!
Thou shalt not die: the lot of right is mine.
A shade of human weakness cross'd my soul,
Such as before, not in the horrid fields
Of crimson slaughter did I ever feel;
But it is past; now I can bravely die,
And I will have my right.

Eth.
(pushing him affectionately away).
Away, my son! It is as it should be.

Her.
O if thou wilt entreat me as a man,
Nor slur me with contempt! I do beseech thee
Upon my bended knee! (Kneeling.)
O if thou diest,
I of all living things most wretched am!

Eth.
Be temperate, my son! thou art reserv'd
For what the fervid strength of active youth
Can best perform. O take him from me, friends!
[The Thanes take Hereulf forcibly from clinging round Ethelbert, and he then assumes a softened solemnity.
Now, my brave friends, we have together fought
A noble warfare; I am call'd away!
Let me in kind and true affection leave you.

Thanes
(speaking together).
Alas, thou art our father and our friend!
Alas, that thou shouldst meet this dismal end!

Eth.
Ay, true indeed, it is a dismal end
To mortal feeling; yet within my breast
Blest hope and love, and heav'nward confidence,
With human frailty so combined are,
That I do feel a wild and trembling pleasure.
E'en on this awful verge, methinks I go,
Like a chid infant, from his passing term
Of short disgrace, back to his father's presence.
[Holding up his hands with a dignified exultation.
I feel an awful joy!—Farewell, my friends!
Selred, we've fought in many a field together,
And still as brothers been; take thou, I pray,
This token of my love. And thou, good Wolfere,
I've ever priz'd thy worth, wear thou this ring.
(To the two other chiefs, giving them also tokens.)
And you, brave chiefs, I've ever loved you both.
And now, my noble Hereulf,
Of all the youth to whom my soul e'er knit,
As with a parent's love, in the good cause,
Thee have I found most fervent and most firm;
Be thine my sword, which in my native hall
Hung o'er my noble father's arms thou'lt find,
And be it in thy hands what well thou knowst
It would have been in mine. Farewell, my friends!
God bless you all!

[They all crowd about him, some kissing his hands, some taking hold of his clothes, except Hereulf, who, starting away from him, throws himself upon the ground in an agony of grief. Ethelbert lifts up his eyes and his hands as if he were uttering a blessing over them.
1st priest.
This may not be! down with those impious hands!
Dar'st thou, foul heretic, before the face
Of hallow'd men, thus mutter prayers accurst?

Eth.
Doth this offend you?—O it makes me feel
A spirit for this awful hour unmeet,
When I do think on you, ye hypocrites!

1st priest.
Come, come! we waste our time, the headsman waits.
(To Eth.)
Prepare thee for the block.

Eth.
And will you in the sight of these my friends
Your bloody task perform? Let them retire.

1st priest.
Nay, nay, that may not be, our pious Hexulf
Has given his orders.

2d priest.
O be not so cruel!
Though he has ordered so, yet, ne'ertheless,
We may suspend this veil, and from their eyes
The horrid sight conceal.

1st priest.
Then be it so; I grant it.

[A large cloth or curtain is suspended upon the points of two spears, held up by spearmen, concealing the block and executioner, &c. from the Thanes.
1st priest
(to the men behind the curtain, after a pause).
Are ye ready?
(Voices behind.)
Yes, we are ready now.

1st priest
(To Eth.).
And thou?

Eth.
God be my strength! I'm ready also.
[As the priest is leading Ethelbert behind the curtain, he turns about to give a last look to his friends; and they, laying their hands devoutly upon their breasts, bow to him very low. They then go behind the curtain, leaving the Thanes on the front of the stage, who stand fixed in silent and horrid expectation; except Selred, who sits down upon the ground with his face hid between his knees, and Hereulf, who, rising suddenly from the ground, looks wildly round, and seeing Ethelbert gone, throws himself down again in all the distraction of grief and despair.

A voice behind
(after some noise and bustle of preparation has been heard).
Now doff his garment, and undo his vest.
Fie on it, there! assist the prisoner.

2d voice.
Let some one hold his hands.

3d voice.
Do ye that office.
[A pause of some length.

Voice again.
Headsman, let fall thy blow, he gives the sign.

[The axe is seen lifted up above the curtain, and the sound of the stroke is heard.
Thanes
(shrinking involuntarily. and all speaking at once).
The stroke of death is given!

[The spearmen let fall the curtain, and the body of Ethelbert is discovered upon the ground, with a cloth over it; whilst his head is held up by the executioner, but seen very indistinctly through the spears and pikes of the surrounding soldiers. The Thanes start back and avert their faces.
1st priest.
(coming forward).
Rebellious Thanes, ye see a deed of justice.
Here rest ye, and another day of life
Enjoy together: at this hour to-morrow
We'll visit you, and then, by lot determin'd,
Another head must fall. So wills the king.

1st Th.
What words are these?

2d Th.
Do thine ears catch their sense?

3d Th.
I cannot tell thee; mine confus'dly sound.

1st priest
(raising his voice louder).
To-morrow at this hour we'll visit you.
And here again, selected by the lot,
Another head must fall. Till then, farewell!
Another day of life enjoy securely:
Much happiness be with you.

[An involuntary groan bursts from the Thanes, and Hereulf, starting furiously from the ground, clenches his hands in a menacing posture as the priests and spearmen, &c. retire. The scene closes.