University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

A dark apartment in the same castle. Woggarwolfe is discovered asleep upon a couch of rushes, and covered with a mat. Enter Alwy and a follower, with a lad bearing a torch before them. Alwy signs with his hand, and the torch-bearer retires to a distance.
Alwy.
Softly, ere we proceed; a sudden thought,
Now crossing o'er my mind, disturbs me much.
He who to-night commands the farther watch,
Canst thou depend upon him?

Fol.
Most perfectly; and, free of hostile bounds,
The British prince ere this pursues his way.

Alwy.
I'm satisfied: now to our present purpose.
[As they advance towards the couch, Woggarwolfe is heard speaking in his sleep.
Ha! speaks he in his sleep? some dream disturbs him:
His quiv'ring limbs beneath the cov'ring move.
He speaks again.

Wog.
(in his sleep).
Swift, in your package stow those dead men's gear,
And loose their noble coursers from the stall.

Alwy.
Ay, plund'ring in his sleep.

Wog.
Wipe thou that blade:
Those bloody throats have drench'd it to the hilt.

Alwy.
O, hear the night-thoughts of that bloody hound!
I must awake him. Ho, brave Woggarwolfe!

Wog.
Hear how those women scream! we'll still them shortly.

Alwy.
Ho, Woggarwolfe!

Wog.
Who calls me now? cannot you master it?
[Alwy knocks upon the ground with his stick.
What, batt'ring on it still? Will it not yield?
Then fire the gate.

Alwy
(shaking him).
Ho, Woggarwolfe, I say!

Wog.
(starting up half awake).
Is not the castle taken?

Alwy.
Yes, it is taken.

Wog.
(rubbing his eyes).
Pooh! it is but a dream.

Alwy.
But dreams full oft are found of real events
The forms and shadows.
There is in very deed a castle taken,
In which your Wessex foes have left behind
Nor stuff, nor store, nor make of living thing.
Bind on thy sword and call thy men to arms!
Thy boiling blood will bubble in thy veins,
When thou hast heard it is the tower of Boruth.

Wog.
My place of strength?

Fol.
Yes, chief; I spoke with one new from the West,
Who saw the ruinous broil.

Wog.
By the black fiends of hell! therein is stored
The chiefest of my wealth. Upon its walls
The armour of a hundred fallen chiefs
Did rattle to the wind.

Alwy.
Now will it sound elsewhere.

Wog.
(in despair).
My noble steeds, and all my stalled kine!
O, the fell hounds! no mark of living thing?

Fol.
No mark of living thing.

Wog.
Ah! and my little arrow-bearing boy!
He whom I spared amidst a slaughter'd heap,
Smiling all weetless of th' uplifted stroke
Hung o'er his harmless head!
Like a tamed cub I rear'd him at my feet:
He could tell biting jests, bold ditties sing,
And quaff his foaming bumper at the board,
With all the the mock'ry of a little man.
By heav'n I'll leave alive within their walls
Nor maid, nor youth, nor infant at the breast,
If they have slain that child! blood-thirsty ruffians!

Alwy.
Ay, vengeance! vengeance! rouse thee like a man!
Occasion tempts; the foe, not yet return'd,
Have left their castle careless of defence.
Call all thy followers secretly to arms:
Set out upon the instant.

Wog.
By holy saints, I will! reach me, I pray!

[Pointing to his arms lying at a little distance from him.
Alwy
(giving them).
There, be thou speedy.

Wog.
(putting on his armour).
Curse on those loosen'd springs, they will not catch!
Oh, all the goodly armour I have lost!
Light curses on my head! if I do leave them
Or spear, or shield, or robe, or household stuff,
Or steed within their stalls, or horn or hoof
Upon their grassy hills! (Looking about.)
What want I now?
Mine armour-man hath ta'en away my helm—
Faith, and my target too! hell blast the buzzard!

[Exit furiously.
Alwy
(laughing).
Ethwald, we have fulfill'd thy bidding well,
With little cost of craft! But let us follow,
And keep him to the bent.

[Exeunt.