 | The Battle of Hastings |  |
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ACT V.
Harold is discover'd in his Tent before break of Day; the Guards in various Attitudes resting on their Arms: He rises from his Couch and advances.King.
When will this night have end? arise, break forth;
I'm weary of invoking thee, O sun!
Lo, in yon red'ning cloud I see thee mount;
Not as thou'rt wont with odour-breathing gales,
Serene and marshall'd by the dancing hours
Up to the laughing East; but warrior-like
With ratling quiver and loud stormy march
And bloody ensigns, by the furies rear'd
Aloft and floating in the flecker'd sky:
So shall the day be suited to its deeds.
(A trumpet.
Stand to your arms there, soldiers! Up, awake!
(The guards rise.
Earl of Mercia enters.
Mercia.
Hail to my king and brother! on my knee
I beg a boon.
King.
What is it, gallant Mercia?
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The leading of the Kentishmen.
King.
'Tis thine:
Draw the firm phalanx forth; 'tis thine to guide
The thunder of the war: There be thy post.
Farewel! The word is victory or death.
(Exit Mercia.
He speaks to one of the Guard.
Come hither, Soldier! haste thou to lord Reginald,
Bid him to plant his bowmen in the copse,
Which flanks the Norman camp, he knows the place;
Thence as our foes advance with level front
And regulated files, he may perplex
And gall their battle—Take this ensign, Soldier,
In Standford's fight I saw thee bravely win it,
Defend it now as bravely.
Soldier.
With my life.
(Exit Soldier.
Waltheof enters.
Waltheof.
Health and a happy morn to England's king!
Would heav'n, that all our warriors like their chief
Had thus outstript the sun!
King.
Where is the promise,
With which so high you fed my pamper'd hope?
Edgar rejects my suit: no power can move him.
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Alas, you are too mild.
King.
He's deaf to reason.
Waltheof.
Be deaf to him, O Heaven, when he does kneel
And cry for mercy! Put your terrors forth,
My life upon't he yields.
King.
Set him before us.
(Exit Waltheof.
Edgar enters guarded.
Edgar.
Your messenger conven'd me to your tent;
Lo, I expect your pleasure.
King.
Mark me then,
While to thy free election I hold up
Two different mirrors; in the one you see
The fair presentment of a kingly crown,
Where love and beauty weave the nuptial knot,
That binds it to thy brow; in plainer terms,
My daughter and my empire wait thy choice.
Edgar.
I have a vow noted in heav'n's own volume,
Where saints have witness'd it.
King.
Oh seize the moment!
If you espouse my daughter I go forth
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That England's fate now hangs on thy resolve.
Heal then the breaches of the land, my son,
And make us all one heart. Come then, ye nations,
And shroud old Ocean with your hostile sails;
By her own sons defended and belov'd
England shall stand unshaken and secure,
And only fall, when time itself expires.
Edgar.
Bid me go forth; conduct me to the charge:
Plant me upon the last forlornest hope,
Where the fight burns, where the mad furies toss
Their flaming torches, and wide-wasting death
Up to the ribs in blood, with giant stroke
Widows the nations: thither let me go
To fight, to fall; but never dare to hope
Tho' you'd a Seraph's eloquence to tempt,
A Seraph's truth to vouch for your prediction,
That I wou'd yield my bosom to disgrace,
Cancel the vow which I have given Edwina,
And save my country at my soul's expence.
King.
Then know, obdurate—
Edgar.
What?
King.
My country calls;
(Trumpets sound a charge.
'Tis her last awful invocation; hark!
The altar burns; a royal lady waits,
And this her bridal dower: receive it, prince;
(He tenders the crown to Edgar.
What can a king give more? What has a father
More dear to offer than his only child?
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Forbear; 'tis mockery when the soul is fixt.
King.
Then thou art lost—Oh yet preserve thy country!
Edgar.
My honour and my oath—
King.
Thy life—
Edgar.
My love.
King.
Die then! What hoa! my guards. Strike off his head.
Matilda enters hastily and interposes herself between Edgar and the Guards, as they are advancing to seize him
Matilda.
Strike off his head! By him who made the heavens,
Whose great primæval interdiction cries
Thro' all creation's round, thou shalt not kill,
I do adjure you stop!
(The guards fall back.
King.
What phrensy moves thee?
Matilda.
Or spare him, or expect to see me fall
And dash my desperate brains.—Upon my knees,
Father, I do beseech thee, grant him life.
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Northumberland.
To horse, dread sir; brace on your beaver strait,
Caparison with speed, and meet the sun,
Who thron'd and beaming on the upland edge,
Stands in his fiery wane with glowing wheels
And panting coursers to behold a scene,
Worth his diurnal round.
King.
Warriors, lead on!
Tho' hell assume her thousand hideous shapes,
Phantoms and fiends and fierce anatomies
To shake me from my course; tho' Duncan cross me
With auguries and spells, tho' this proud youth
Bid sharp vexation with its wolfish fangs
Harrow my heart, in me is no delay.
For thee, my child, whose intercession turns
Yet once again from this devoted head
The uplifted hand of death, take, since thou wilt,
The thankless life, thou mak'st so much thy care;
And now farewel!
(Embracing Matilda.
Matilda.
The god of battle guide thee!
I will not shame thee with a tear; Farewel!
King.
Come forth, bright sword; hence, nature, from my heart:
Now take me, England; I am all thine own.
(Exit with his train.
Matilda.
Go, ye brave English;go, as ye are wont,
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Ye strike for us, for freedom, for your country.
Angels of victory surround your host
And sight upon your side. Transporting sounds!
(A distant shout.
With joyful shouting they salute their king,
And strike their shields in token of applause.
Edgar!
(Turning from the side scene to Edgar.
Edgar.
Matilda! Arm me with a sword;
Or, like the Decii, self-devoted thus
I'll rush upon the foe.
Matilda.
Yet e're the shock
Of battle severs us perchance for ever,
Resolve me, had it been my lot to meet thee,
With free affections and a vacant heart,
Cou'd'st thou have deign'd to cast away a thought
On lost Matilda? Ah, Cou'dst thou have lov'd her?
Edgar.
Born to each grace, with every virtue blest,
How can Matilda ask of Edgar this?
Sure I were lost to every manly feeling,
If honour'd thus, I shou'd forbear to hold,
Whilst memory lives, thy image present here,
And cherish it with gratitude, with love.
Matilda.
It is enough: Hear, angels, and record it!
Now take this sword; if in yon bleeding ranks
You meet the King, or fainting with his wounds,
Or prest with numbers, think he had a daughter,
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(Matilda is going.
Edgar.
Ev'n to the teeth of death I will obey thee.
Yet stay! one word—Tis to exact from virtue
More than frail nature warrants; yet thy soul
Is large; Oh say, wilt thou protect Edwina?
Matilda.
Whilst I have life.
Edgar.
Then thou art truly great.
Matilda.
What, know'st thou not Edwina is my guest?
Edgar.
Edwina here! thy guest!
Matilda.
One tent contains us:
Beneath a borrow'd name (Oh let the truth
Henceforth be sacred!) she besought protection;
I took her, laid her nearest to my heart,
And fed her with its best, its dearest hopes—
But hark! the battle joins—Farewel for ever.
(Exit.
(A general charge.
Edgar.
Live, live and save Edwina! Hark, they shout!
There's victory in the sound. O day and night!
They stop, they turn. Behold, the Normans fly;
I see bright glory flaming in the van;
Tiptoe she stands in skiey-tinctur'd stole,
Her head high-rear'd and pointing to the skies,
With pinions bent for flight: Stay, godlike vision,
And let me fly to snatch—Edwina!
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As he is hastening out, Edwina meets him.
Edwina.
Edgar!
And do we live to meet? Oh, snatch the moment,
And save thyself and me. Whence this impatience?
Why that disorder'd rolling of thine eye?
What ails thee, prince?
Edgar.
And can'st thou ask?—Behold!
Edwina.
O horrible! a scene of death—
Edgar.
Of glory;
Of fame immortal, of triumphant rapture—
And wou'dst thou hold me here?
(She takes hold of his hand.
Edwina.
Wilt thou forsake me?
Edgar.
Let go my hand: if you persist, Edwina,
To hold me thus, a thousand, thousand furies,
And each more horrible than death shall haunt me,
'Till phrensy-struck, with mine own hand I seize
This recreant heart and pluck it from my breast.
Edwin enters hastily.
Edwin.
Thus art thou found? Thro' deluges of blood,
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Fighting I sought thee: Fly, ill-fated prince—
Edgar.
What do I hear? Is it not victory?
Edwin.
Curse on the strumpet Fortune, she revolts
And sides with Normandy, their seeming flight
Was but a feint; upon the word they halted,
Check'd in their mid career; then wheeling swift
With thick-clos'd files charg'd our disorder'd ranks,
That reel'd upon the shock: A faithless band
Led by Earl Waltheof, that still veering traitor,
Went over to the foe.
Edgar.
Lives Harold yet?
Edwin.
From helmet to the heel all red with blood,
And gash'd with glorious wounds, he call'd me to him,
And bade me say, that with his dying breath
To thee and to Matilda he bequeathes
All that is left of England.
Edgar.
Lead me to him.
Edwina.
To death as soon.
Edwin.
Retire to safer ground.
Edgar.
Retire! shall Edgar fly, whilst Harold fights?
Off, let me go.
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Nay, if my arms can't hold thee—
Edgar.
O thou soft Syren! take her noble Edwin,
Take my soul's better part before I sink
To infamy—Oh, take her from my heart.
(Exit.
Edwina.
If thou hast love or pity in thy bosom,
Haste and preserve him!
(Exit. Edwin.
Oh, this rives my heart.
Earth, earth, receive a wretch.
(She falls on the ground.
Matilda enters with attendants, having discover'd Edwina on the ground, she advances hastily to her.
Matilda.
She faints: she falls!
Look up, Edwina! Is it death's resemblance,
Or death itself? she lives. Help me to raise her.
(They raise her.
Edwina.
Matilda!
Matilda.
Start not! I am yet thy friend.
Edwina.
Fly then and save—O heaven!
Matilda.
Thy Edgar—No.
I saw your hero dart into the fight
As the train'd swimmer springs into the flood.
Edwina.
Art thou a woman?
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Wou'd to heaven I were not!
Then had I grappled to your warrior's side
And struck for England, for my father—Oh!
I lookt but now, and saw a storm of blood,
A raging ocean scatter'd o'er with wrecks:
Fir'd at the sight I snatcht a javelin up
Some warrior's haste had dropt—the feeble weapon
Fell from my woman's hand: Again I lookt,
No English banner floated in the air,
Save where my father fought; revolting nature
Shrunk from the scene, and soon a scalding flood
Of tears burst forth that quench'd these orbs of sight.
Edwina.
Where shall I turn?
Matilda.
To death.
Edwina.
Dreadful resort!
Matilda.
And yet when Hope, our last kind nursing friend,
Forsakes her patient's couch and dark despair
Puts out that light, which like a nightly beacon
Points to the harbour, where the foundering bark
Of misery may steer, Ah whither then
Shall life's benighted passenger resort,
But to oblivion and the all-covering grave?
Edwina.
Why then, when death had arm'd my uplifted hand,
Didst thou prevent the blow and bid me live?
Matilda.
Live but till Edgar falls, then rear the blow,
I'll not prevent it—Hah, what bleeding man!
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Northumberland.
A little onward yet—Enough, enough!
Good fellow, hold thy kerchief to my side.
Run one of you and bring me speedy word,
What troops those are, which wilfully maintain
A dying kind of combat; if there's hope,
Make signal with your hand and shout—staunch, staunch my wound—
My curse upon that Norman boar Fitz Hugh,
His tusk has ript my heart-strings; yet I cleft him,
Did I not, soldier?—Soft, for mercy's sake,
Jesu Maria, what a pang was that!
Look out; no sign of hope?—None, none; all's lost—
He smites his breast with anguish. Hence, stand off,
(He breaks from the soldiers who support him.
Wide as the grave I rend this bleeding breach.
(He tears open his wound.
Fall England! fall Northumberland—'Tis past.
(He falls into his soldiers arms and expires.
Matilda.
Farewel, stout heart! how better thus to fall
By death hewn down, than to outlive the leaf,
And drop a sapless ruin! let me view thee:
Is death no more than this? Why thou, Edwina,
Or I, or any one may do as much.
Life, like a worn-out garment, is cast off
And there's an end: I thank thee for the lesson,
'Twill stand me much in use—bear him away.
(The soldiers take off the body.
Edgar enters with Edwin and Soldiers.
Edwin.
He lives, he comes! hence to the winds, my fears;
There's blood upon thy scarf.
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Then it was struck
From Norman veins.
Matilda.
Where is my father?
Edgar.
Hah!
Edwin!
Edwin.
My Lord.
Edgar.
The foe suspends pursuit,
And calls his conquering legions back from slaughter;
Run, Edwin, run and take this ensign with thee;
Here on the craggy summit of the cliff
Wave it aloft, and call the stragglers up
To form upon the heights; these still are ours.
(Exit Edwin.
Matilda.
Where is my father? Where are all the heroes,
Whom I have seen return triumphant home,
With victory eagle-wing'd upon their helms?
Edgar.
All lost with thousands upon thousands sunk
And swallow'd up in death?
Matilda.
Death, say'st thou?
Edgar.
Hearken!
The hireling troops had fled; one native phalanx
Fatally brave yet stood; there deep-engulph'd
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Mounted like Mars upon a pile of slain:
Frowning he fought, and wore his helmet up,
His batter'd harness at each ghastly sluice
Streaming with blood; life gush'd at every vein;
Yet liv'd he, as in proud despight of nature,
His mighty soul unwilling to forsake
Its princely dwelling; swift as thought I flew;
And as a sturdy churl his pole-axe aim'd
Full at the hero's crest, I sprung upon him
And sheath'd my rapier in the caitiff's throat.
Matilda.
Didst thou? then thou art faithful. Open wide
And shower your blessings on his head, ye heav'ns!
Edgar.
A while the fainting hero we upheld,
(For Edwin now had join'd me) but as well
We might have driv'n the mountain cataract
Back to its source, as stemm'd the battle's tide.
I saw the imperial Duke, and with loud insults
Provok'd him to the combat, but in vain;
The pursey braggart now secure of conquest
Rein'd in his steed, and wing'd his squadron round
To cut us from retreat; cold death had stopt
Thy father's heart; ev'n hope itself had died:
'Midst showers of darts we bore him from the field,
And now, supported on his soldiers pikes,
The venerable ruin comes. Behold!
(The body of Harold is brought in.
Matilda.
Soldiers for this last mournful office thanks!
Bear him within the tent, upon the couch
Lay ye the body, spread his mantle o'er him,
And all depart: For this I thank you, Nature,
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And bade it walk o'er all this vale of tears,
You sent deliv'rance also, and with death,
And with a land-mark, bounded its domain,
As open'd an asylum in the grave.
(The body is carried into the tent, Matilda follows.
(Exit Matilda.
Edwina.
Lo, where she follows her dead father's body,
She hath a soul that will not bend to grief
And disappointment.
Edgar.
Haste, beloved maid,
And force her from the body—
(Exit Edwina.
Earl Siffric enters.
Siffric.
And dost thou live, brave youth; dost thou survive
Those miracles of valour which I saw,
And blushing saw? for Oh, too sure I wrong'd thee;
Give me thy pardon; thou hast more than conquer'd.
Edgar.
Siffric, enough! It is not now a time
For English hands to strike at English hearts,
Else—but 'tis past. Where's old Northumberland;
Where valiant Mercia? Ah! is't so with both?
(Earl Siffric makes signal of their death.
Edwin returns with soldiers.
Welcome, brave Edwin! thou bring'st hope for England.
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Edwina.
Horror on horror! when will death have end.
Some fiery dog star reigns and deadly madness
Strikes all below the moon. Scarce had they set
Their mournful burthen down, when following quick
She rush'd into the tent, and raising up
Her father's mantle, snatcht one eager look;
Then with uplifted eyes and heaving sighs
Seizing his sword with strong determin'd grasp
Plung'd it into her breast. Behold, she comes!
Matilda enters supported.
Matilda.
'Tis done! the faithful point hath reach'd my life,
And spoke it's errand fairly: Now, my soul,
Now spread thy wings, and fly.
Edwina.
O killing sight!
Edgar.
O deed of horror!
Matilda.
Hush, no more of that.
Think'st thou the Almighty's mercy shall not reach
To take affliction in? look well at me;
Of friends, crown, country, kinsmen, father rest,
Love-lorn, of reason more than half beguil'd,
Heart-broke and struck from out the book of hope,
What cou'd I do but die?
Edgar.
Heaven's joys receive thee!
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Amen! the voice is Edgar's, but my eyes
Grow dim, alas, 'tis hard I cannot see thee:
Give me the crown; quick, reach it to my hand.
(They bring the crown and present it to Matilda.
Ay, now I have it, shorn of pow'r indeed,
But light'ned of it's cares; Edgar, o'er thee
This radient circle like a cloud may pass,
But thy posterity to latest time
Shall bind it on their brows. Receive it, prince,
And noble as thou art, Oh, spare the dead
Nor stir my father's ashes with thy curse.
(Edgar receives the crown.
Edgar.
Peace to his shade, so heaven my sins forgive
As I thy father.
Matilda.
'Tis enough: farewel!
Life's storm is past; wave after wave subsides,
The turbid passions sink and all is peace:
Ambition, jealousy, nay love itself,
Last, ling'ring, drops into the grave and dies.
(She sinks into the arms of her attendants and expires.
Edgar.
There fled a mighty soul—Angels, receive it,
And waft it to the mansions of the blest!
And art thou mine?—
(To the Crown.
Friends, soldiers, subjects now,
Lord Edwin, Siffric, England's brave remains,
I, Edgar Atheling, king Edmund's heir,
Now take this mournful relique of my right.
If you are with me, warriors, strike your sheilds.
Thanks, gallant countrymen!
(They strike.
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Lo, on his knee
Edwin salutes thee; king of England, hail!
Edgar.
Come to my heart, my friend, my more than father!
(To Edwin.
Siffric.
Siffric, the convert of thy valour, kneels
And every faculty of head, heart, hand,
To thy free service dedicates.
Edgar.
Arise!
And take, ('tis all your king can give) my thanks.
And now, my fair betroth'd, reach forth thine hand,
And touch this golden symbol, whilst I swear,
Here standing in the awful eye of heaven,
To share it with Edwina.
Edwina.
On my knees
I yield thee thanks, whilst before heaven I swear,
Tho' thou hadst nothing to bestow but chains
And beggary and want and torturing stripes
And dungeon darkness, still thy poor Edwina
For thee alone shall live, with thee shall die.
Edgar.
Now, warriors, how resolve you? View that field;
The Norman, like a lion, swill'd with slaughter,
Sleeps o'er his bloody mess; our scatter'd troops
Collect and form around.
Siffric.
We live in Edgar;
Save the last hope of England and retreat.
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Retreat! shall English warriors hear that word
And from an English king! No, Siffric, never.
Unfurl the Saxon standard! See, my lords,
Twice taken in the fight and twice recover'd,
The hereditary glory lives with Edgar.
Beneath that banner godlike Alfred conquer'd;
Beneath that banner, drench'd in Danish blood,
My grandsire Iron-sided Edmund fought;
Wrench'd from my infant grasp, a bold usurper
Seiz'd it, possest it, died in it's defence:
And shall I, in the tame respect of life,
With close-furl'd ensigns, trailing in the dust,
Halt in the rear of fame? No, gallant English,
Turn not, but as the galled panther turns,
To lick his wounds, and with recruited fury
Spring to the fight afresh: So turn; so stand!
And from this height, ennobled by your valour,
Hurl bold defiance to the foe beneath.
(Drums, &c.
THE END.
| The Battle of Hastings | |