SCENE I.
An apartment in the royal castle or chief residence of
Ethwald. Dwina
and several of the ladies serving
the Queen are discovered at work; some spinning,
some winding coloured yarns for the loom, and
some embroidering after a rude fashion.
Dwi.
(
looking over the 1
st lady's work).
How speeds thy work? The queen is now impatient;
Thou must be diligent.
1st lady.
Nine weary months have I, thou knowest well,
O'er this spread garment bent, and yet thou seest
The half is scarcely done. I lack assistance.
Dwi.
And so thou dost, but yet in the wide realm
None can be found but such as lack the skill
For such assistance. All those mingled colours,
And mazy circles, and strange carved spots,
Look, in good sooth, as though the stuff were strew'd
With rich and curious things: though much I fear
To tell you what would prove no easy task.
2d lady.
There lives a dame in Kent, I have been told,
Come from some foreign land, if that indeed
She be no cunning fiend in woman's garb,
Who, with her needle, can most cunningly
The true and perfect semblance of real flowers,
With stalk and leaves, as fairly fashion out
As if upon a summer bank they grew.
1st lady.
Ay, ay! no doubt! thou hearst strange tales, I ween.
Didst thou not tell us how, in foreign lands
Full far from this, the nice and lazy dames
Do set foul worms to spin their silken yarn?
Ha, ha!
[
They all laugh.
2d lady
(
angrily).
I did not say so.
1st lady.
Nay, nay, but thou didst!
(
Laughing.)
2d lady.
Thou didst mistake me wilfully, in spite,
Malicious as thou art!
Dwi.
I pray you wrangle not! when ladies work,
They should tell pleasant tales or sweetly sing,
Not quarrel rudely, thus, like villains' wives.
Sing me, I pray you now, the song I love.
You know it well: let all your voices join.
Omnes.
We will, good Dwina.
SONG.
Wake awhile and pleasant be,
Gentle voice of melody!
Say, sweet carol, who are they
Who cheerly greet the rising day?
Little birds in leafy bower;
Swallows twitt'ring on the tower;
Larks upon the light air borne;
Hunters rous'd with shrilly horn;
The woodman whistling on his way;
The new-waked child at early play,
Who barefoot prints the dewy green,
Winking to the sunny sheen;
And the meek maid who binds her yellow hair,
And blithely doth her daily task prepare.
Say, sweet carol, who are they
Who welcome in the evening grey?
The housewife trim and merry lout,
Who sit the blazing fire about;
The sage a conning o'er his book;
The tired wight, in rushy nook,
Who half asleep, but faintly hears
The gossip's tale hum in his ears;
The loosen'd steed in grassy stall;
The proud Thanes feasting in the hall;
But most of all the maid of cheerful soul,
Who fills her peaceful warrior's flowing bowl.
Well hast thou said! and thanks to thee,
Voice of gentle melody!
Dwi.
(
to 3d lady, who sits sad and pensive).
What is the matter, Ella? thy sweet voice
Was wont to join the song.
Ella.
Ah, woe is me! within these castle walls,
Under this very tower in which we are,
There be those, Dwina, who no sounds do hear
But the chill winds that o'er their dungeons howl;
Or the still tinkling of the water-drops
Falling from their dank roofs, in dull succession,
Like the death watch at sick men's beds. Alas!
While you sing cheerly thus, I think of them.
Dwi.
Ay, many a diff'rent lot of joy and grief
Within a little compass may be found.
Under one roof the woeful and the gay
Do oft abide; on the same pillow rest.
And yet, if I may rightly judge, the king
Has but small joy above his wretched thralls.
Last night I listened to his restless steps,
As oft he paced his chamber to and fro,
Right o'er my head, and I did hear him utter
Such heavy groans!
1st lady
(
with all the others gathering about
Dwina
curiously).
Didst thou? And utter'd he no other sound?
I've heard it whisper'd, at the dead of night
He sees strange things.
All
(
speaking together).
O tell us, Dwina! tell us!
Dwi.
Out on you all! you hear such foolish tales!
He is himself the ghost that walks the night,
And cannot rest.
Ella.
Belike he is devising in his mind
How he shall punish those poor prisoners,
Who were in Hereulf's tower surpris'd so lately,
And now are in these hollow vaults confin'd.
1st lady.
No marvel that it should disturb him much,
When his own brother is among the guilty.
There will be bloody doings soon, I trow!
Dwi.
Into the hands of good and pious Hexulf
The rebels will be put, so to be punish'd
As he in holy zeal shall see it meet.
Ella.
Then they will dearly suffer.
Dwi.
That holy man no tortures will devise.
Ella.
Yes, so perchance, no tortures of the flesh;
But there be those that do upon the soul
The rack and pincer's work.
Is he not grandson to that vengeful chief,
Who, with the death-axe lifted o'er his head,
Kept his imprison'd foe a live-long night,
Nor, till the second cock had crow'd the morn,
Dealt him the clemency of death? Full well
He is his child I know!
Dwi.
What aileth thee? art thou bewitched also?
Lamentest thou that cursed heretics
Are put in good men's power? The sharpest punishment
O'er-reaches not their crime.
Ella.
O Dwina, Dwina! thou hast watch'd by me
When on a sick-bed laid, and held my head,
And kindly wept to see my wasted cheek,
And lov'st thou cruelty? It cannot be!
Dwi.
No, foolish maiden! mercy to such fiends
Were cruelty.
Ella.
Such fiends! Alas! do not they look like men?
Do they not to their needful brethren do
The kindly deeds of men? Yea, Ethelbert
Within his halls a houseless Thane maintain'd,
Whose substance had been spent in base attempts
To work his ruin.
Dwi.
The blackest fiends of all most saintly forms
Oft wear. Go, go! thou strangely art deluded,
I tremble for thee! get thee hence and pray,
If that the wicked pity of thy heart
May be forgiven thee.
Enter a Lady eagerly.
Lady.
Come, damsels, come! along the gallery,
In slow procession holy Hexulf walks,
With saintly Woggarwolfe, a fierce chief once,
But now a cowled priest of marv'llous grace.
They bear some holy relies to the queen;
Which, near the royal couch with blessings laid,
Will to the king his wonted rest restore.
Come, meet them on their way and gain a blessing.
Dwi.
We will all gladly go.
[
Exeunt.
