University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The English Camp. The royal Tent with the Banners of Harold unfurl'd.
Edgar and Edwin.
Edwin.
Edmund, your steed is feather-footed, light
As gossamour, and you, methinks, did ride,
As you'd o'ertake the couriers of the sky,
Hors'd on the sightless winds: The camp yet sleeps;
We have outstript the hour.

Edgar.
Mark, Edwin, mark,
How lovingly the strumpet winds salute
These flanting banners of the Earl of Kent:
Teach me some patience—O ye ministring storms,
Where did you sleep, while usurpation grew
To this proud height?

Edwin.
No more: remember, Sir,
You are a subject here.

Edgar.
King Edmund's heir,
Can he be subject to Earl Goodwyn's son?
If thou wouldst teach that lesson, sluice these veins
And let out Alfred's blood.

Edwin.
You are too loud:
Here comes Northumberland, a fiery spirit,
Which fourscore winters have not yet extinguisht:
I pray you, though he be your house's foe,
Bear yourself gently tow'rds him, 'twill be wisdom.

Enter Northumberland, Siffric, Waltheof, and others.
Northumberland.
The king not forth yet! Oh, it is the soul
Of discipline to harness with the sun:
Can'st thou not, Siffric, call to mind the day
When with a handful of Northumbrian kerns
I foil'd the king of Scots on Tweda's brink?

Siffric.
'Twas on Saint Jude betimes.

Northumberland.
The grey-ey'd morn
Laugh'd to behold the vaunting sluggard fly,
As we did hollow him with hunter's cries
Back to his native wilds. Soft, who are these?
The faction of young Edgar: Said you not
These men had fled the camp—But see where comes
Mercia, the princely brother of our king.

Earl of Mercia with attendants.
Mercia.
Warriors, well met: health and a happy morn!
And may the sun, which dances on your plumes,
Still with new glories gild your conqu'ring brows!
The king not yet abroad! still on his knees
For his dear people's sake.—How wears the day?

Northumberland.
Prince, till our royal leader shall come forth
There is no day: Let him once sound to battle,
On piles of Norman slain we'll build him altars
High as Olympus; in the battle's shout
We'll chant our morning araisons so loud,
That heav'ns high vault shall echoe with the peal.

Edgar.
How valiant-tongu'd we are! heav'ns favor guard us,
And keep off the old adage!

Edwin.
Be more patient,
And let his humour pass.

Edgar.
Hang him, vain dotard,
I sicken at his folly.

Edwin.
See! the King.

The curtain of the tent is suddenly drawn off, and King Harold appears: He comes forward.
King.
Nobles, all hail. O sight of joyful hope
For suffering England; patriot band of worthies
Confederate by the holiest league on earth
To the best dearest cause: How say you, friends,
Stand your hearts with us for immediate battle;
Do they all beat to the same martial measure,
And shall we forth at once?

Northumberland.
Forth! Strike the drums;
Seize your bright spears, my gallant countrymen,
And let us drive these hungry wolves before us
Home to their howling forests.

King.
Valiant chiefs,
You hear Northumberland renown'd in arms:
Is there amongst us one who wou'd incline
To measures of more caution?

Siffric.
My dread Leige,
Well hath Northumberland advis'd for battle;
Of friends, of fame abandon'd be the man,
Who checks the warrior's ardour and imposes
Vile coward fears beneath the mask of caution.

Edwin.
I must confess my reason is not caught
By empty sounds, nor can I give my voice
For rash, intemperate and immediate battle:
The foe, dread Sir, is sixty thousand strong,
By hardy warriors led and train'd in arms:
Snatch your bright spears, cries bold Northumberland,
And chace these wolves—Alas, these wolves have fangs;
And will not fly for words.

Northumberland.
Now by my life,
Edwin, thy heart is not with England's cause.

Edgar.
Not with his country's cause! Northumberland,
Wert thou as great as pagan Hercules,
And I no better than thyself, old man,
Ev'n such a wither'd palsied thing as thou art,
Yet wou'd I tell thee to thy teeth 'tis false;
As wide as lowest hell stands off from heav'n,
So do thy words from truth.

Siffric.
Who talks of truth?
Where was your truth last night, when, like a spy,
Darkling, alone,and as you hop'd unseen,
You leapt the trench and fled?

Edgar.
Set out the lists,
Life against life, then see if I can fly,
Thou dastardly reviler.

King.
Peace! and hear me:
Why hast thou left our camp; where and with whom
Didst thou consume the night?

Edgar.
Are there no hours
Amidst a soldier's life sacred to love,
To friendship, to repose? I am no traitor,
Nor this my noble friend; let it suffice
I come a voluntary friend to claim
The privilege of my progenitors,
And die for England.

Northumberland.
Perish he who would not!
This is the friend, my liege, of outlaw'd Edgar,
Of whom report prevails that he now harbours
Somewhere within this realm; let him be question'd.

King.
Not for another empire. O Northumberland,
By gentle habits let us draw mens hearts,
And bind them to us not enforcedly,
But lovingly and freely—Hark, our trumpet!
Welcome, brave Reginald, what says the Norman
To our defiance?

Reginald enters.
Reginald.
Thus he bids me say,
Tomorrow with the sun he will expect you
Army 'gainst army on the plains of Hastings.

King.
Hear ye this, lords? Oh turn upon the foe
Those eyes that interchange their angry fires.
Shall it be so, brave friends? What says Lord Edmund?

Edgar.
There is my gage: Tomorrow be our witnes,
Who ventures fairest in his country's cause,
Edmund or Siffric.

Edwin.
When we're call'd to arms
For England's safety, private feuds shou'd cease,
And every son unite in her defence.

King.
Oh, let us bring one heart to this great cause;
Thus banded, who shall break us? To your posts
As friends and soldiers; let dissension die,
Learn silence of the foe, and keep good watch.
So farewell all?—Edmund.

(Exeunt lords.
Edgar.
What wills the King?

King.
Stand at my side: Wou'd thou cou'dst love me, Edmund,
As well as thou lov'st Edgar: Why dost eye me
As thou wou'dst measure me from heel to head?
I never did thee wrong: If thou hast sorrows,
Give them to me; I'm loaded hard with cares,
For I'm a King; thine is a private lot,
Thou may'st be free and happy. Gallant Earl,
Wilt thou commit thy noble charge to me?
I wou'd be private with him.

Edwin.
Royal sir,
The interest I have in him is thine:
Edmund, remember—

King.
Follow me.

Edwin.
Beware!

(Exeunt King and Edgar.
As Edwin is going out, Lord Waltheof, who had waited in the back scene, calls to him.
Waltheof.
Turn noble Edwin; look upon a friend.

Edwin.
A friend, Lord Waltheof?

Waltheof.
Have you then forgot
How oft in early youth on Avon's banks
We wak'd the echoes with our rural sports?
Have you forgot our mutual binding oath
To royal Edgar's cause? Ev'n now my heart
True to its former fires expanded swells
And labours with a second birth of love.

Edwin.
Where was your oath on that lamented day,
When Severn's stream ran purple with the blood
Of Edgar's murder'd friends? Where was your love,
When at the side of stern Northumberland
You frown'd defiance at me? Art thou not
The veriest courtier that ere pag'd the heels
Of pride-swoln majesty?

Waltheof.
Were I the wretch,
So supple to ambition's sordid use,
So abject as thou mak'st me, what forbids
But I shou'd seize the lucky instant, fly
To the abus'd ear of the king and tell him—

Edwin.
What wou'd'st thou tell him?

Waltheof.
What! that Edmund is—
But for the world's worth I'll not damn my honour:
Live Edgar but till Waltheof shall betray him,
And he must be immortal.

Edwin.
Art thou faithful;
May I believe thee? Oh, if thou betray'st him
Hell hath not torments dire enough to plague thee.

Waltheof.
Come I am in thy bosom—Learn a truth;
This young Minerva, whom our English Jove
Leads to his wars—Matilda—shall be Edgar's.

Edwin.
Come to my heart; I do believe thee loyal
And noble as I've known thee.

Waltheof.
Why she loves him
To fascination.

Edwin.
Art thou sure of that?

Waltheof.
Have I sight, hearing, do I live and wake?
Her very soul is Edmund's.

Edwin.
Grant she loves,
Can we be sure that he returns her love?

Waltheof.
Does the sun warm the bosom that he shines on?
So must her beauty Edgar: Mark my project—
The king to superstition much inclines;
Peering in musty prophecies and fables;
Consulting with astrologers and seers,
Diviners and interpreters of dreams,
Omens and prodigies.

Edwin.
'Tis ever thus
When the mind's ill at ease.

Waltheof.
There is at hand
An ancient soothsayer of Scottish birth,
Duncan his name; ev'n such a man, so white
And reverend with age, as might impose
Credulity upon the wariest; him,
By the enthusiastic monarch deem'd
Oracular, will I dispose to speak
Of Edgar and his right—

Edwin.
Break off; behold
The princess comes.

Waltheof.
Look, Edwin, what a form
Of pensive majesty: Mark'd you that sigh;
Those eyes, love's oracles? Poor stricken deer,
The shaft is in thy heart.

Edwin.
Let us withdraw.

(Exeunt.
Matilda with her Attendants. A Guard.
Matilda.
Soldier, retire; your charge extends no further.
Sabina!

(The Guard goes off.
Sabina.
What commands my gracious lady?

Matilda.
You told me on the way you had a suit;
What can my faithful handmaids ask in vain?

Sabina.
'Tis for a stranger, not ourselves, we ask;
A virgin suitor of no vulgar mein,
But fair in speech and feature, one who bears
The port and semblance of illustrious birth,
Tho' sorrow-struck and waining with despair.

Matilda.
Have you denied her aught? ah, if you have,
Or but demurr'd, me and yourselves you've wrong'd
And forfeited heav'n's love: What is her suit?

Sabina.
In these rude times protection and admission
Into our happy number.

Matilda.
Bring her to us.
(Exeunt all but Sabina.
Sabina, stay; there's pity in thine eyes,
If this poor stranger can provoke these drops,
My griefs will drown thee quite.

Sabina.
Alas, what woud'st thou?

Matilda.
What would I? be the poorest thing on earth,
Poorer than her whose miseries you weep for,
Be any thing, so I were free withal:
Then might I see him, wait upon him, watch
And pay him hourly worship. On our way
As I did meet the king, and bent my knee,
As is my morning custom, why, Sabina,
When I discover'd standing at his side
Young Edmund's bright and blooming form before me,
Why did my heart, as with a sudden leap,
Spring to my trembling lips and stop my tongue,
That wou'd have beg'd a blessing? Every sense
Revolted from its office; my rapt soul
Fled at my eyes; I fainted, sunk and fell.

Sabina.
Ah fatal chance, that ever you shou'd see him!

Matilda.
Deeper and deeper sinks the mortal shaft;
My bosom's peace is lost. Once I was happy;
Clear and serene my life's calm current ran,
While scarce a breezy wish provok'd its tide;
Down the smooth flood the tuneful passions fell
In easy lapse and slumber'd as they pass'd.
Now what a change is wrought! O love, in age
Thou art indeed a child, in power a God.
How now, What stranger's this?

Edwina enters, introduced by the Ladies of Matilda's train.
Sabina.
You have forgot,
The maid we spoke of.

Matilda.
Pray you pardon me—
Stranger, approach and fear not. I can see
Thou art not us'd to ask, and yet thy looks
Plead most enforcingly: If thou dost need
Such shelter as these humble coverings give,
Here in the rear of danger thou may'st dwell,
And join thy prayers to our's.

Edwina.
Thanks, noble lady.
In yon fair vale, while peace was there, I dwelt:
One only brother chear'd my orphan state,
And rich in flocks and herds serene we liv'd:
Him, the support and solace of my life,
Stern duty's iron hand hath wrested from me,
And somewhere in this mighty camp he wars.
What was for me deserted and forlorn?
With one old faithful servant forth I came,
Led slowly on thro' unfrequented paths
To her, whose fame is bruited thro' the land,
Whose gentleness and pity climb heav'n's court,
Like an accepted sacrifice.

Matilda.
No more.
Praise undeserv'd, what is it but reproach?
(This maid wou'd seem less noble than she is)
(Aside.
How must I call thee, stranger?

Edwina.
Athelina.
(O heav'nly god of truth, be not extreme
With thine offending creature, but accept
Necessity my plea.)

(Aside.
Matilda.
Fair Athelina,
Such welcome as these angry times allow,
Freely thou hast: Ours is no life of ease;
We must awake before the morning dawn,
Or look to have our slumbers broke tomorrow,
When these vast armies which thou see'st shall join,
Rending heav'n's concave with their rival shouts
In terrible confliction.

Edwina.
Power supreme!
Whose word can bid the gathering clouds disperse,
Smooth the vext bosom of the furrow'd sea,
And chain the stubborn and contentious winds,
When they unseat the everlasting rocks
And cast them to the sky, wilt thou permit
Thy creature man thus to deface thy works?
Or is he stronger and in less controul
Than these fierce elements?

Matilda.
Banish complaint,
Take hope into thy heart, and every thought
Drive far away, that can infect the mind
With fear's unnerved ague. 'Tis the cause,
The cause, which sanctifies the warrior's zeal;
It is our country's just maternal claim
On all her sons to fight in her defence.

Edwina.
I will not whisper to the babbling winds
My ill-tim'd fears, but hush them in my breast,
And smile on sorrow, tho' my sad heart break.

Matilda.
Ah, am not I a woman like thyself?
Doth thy heart tremble for a brother's life,
And shall a father's plant no cares in mine?
What hast thou more at stake, unless perchance
Thy flocks and herds in yon sequester'd vale,
Thy peaceful calm content outweighs a crown.

Edwina.
Ah, Edmund, Edmund, why did'st thou forsake me?

Matilda.
Whom dost thou name?

Edwina.
I pray you pardon me,
The sad remembrance of an absent friend
Drew after it a short unheeded sigh,
The last which I will utter.

Matilda.
Much I fear
Thou hast untold afflictions, secret griefs,
Which swell that bosom and provoke those sighs.
But, come, thy tender frame demandsre pose,
And these kind friends will lead thee to their tents.
Tomorrow, virgins, we must teach our throats
A loftier strain, and to the sounding harp
With songs of victory hail the rising morn.