 | Fair Rosamund |  |
Scene II.
—Woodstock, by the Forester's hut. Enter Rosamund and Margery.Mar.
'Tis wonderful to see 'em dance . . .
Ros.
And strange
That I may never see an elf, although
I roam at evening underneath the trees,
And love their crumpled gloom.
Mar.
Oh, you should see!
Ros.
Ah, if I could. What is it in thine eyes?
Why, 'tis their magic black, the naughty hue
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Of shy hob-goblins.
Mar.
You are blue, and safe?
Ros.
Safe from enchantment? Yes, or nearly so.
I never see the fairies.
Mar.
Secretly
You take that light green path,—I've seen you there,—
An' look behind you; an' I laughed and thought,
“She thinks none sees the elves dance but herself.”
I've watched for you as weasel from its hole,
Behind the mossy wall, an' dare not speak,
You came along so new and wonderful.
It must have been the elves.
Ros.
Go, Margery;
The fire is low, and father's supper-time!
Mar.
He likes you best to wait on him.
Ros.
Peace! go!
[Exit Margery within.
I'm fretful . . . and my father turned
Once, when we stood together by the door,—
We always settle in the sunset so,
And do not speak,—that night he turned and went
Into the house, as I had not been there.
My heart stood still to hear him . . .
Henry!
The old when lonely must be very lone;
They sit and watch so patient by the fire,
And there is none to come to them save Death.
I'll back directly, for I love him more
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Bright coin—the king's face shining on it clear—
Not the worn pieces. Yonder is the beech!
I play sometimes when it is very long
Wi' the tiny urns, and say they hold my tears.
[Exit behind the trees.
[Enter Wilfred.]
Wil.
This must be the hut—the nest of sticks where
is found the King's dove. Ha, ha! famously said.
But I saw him, like a hawk, and his pigeon can't escape.
I spied him, and 'twill make my fortune with the Queen.
Down in the midst of the trees he toyed with her and
kissed her—pat!—as I looked. Ha! ha! I saw but
little of that joust of lips, the crimson couples tilted too
far off; yet I was witness, and my fortune's made. I'll
knock, and use my eyes.
[Enter Margery from within.]
Fair damsel, pardon me; such sudden light
Is dazzling—
Mar.
Please you, enter sir; the sun
Shines as one cannot bear it on the face.
It's dark inside.
Wil.
[aside].
The blessed simpleton!
What eyes!—to stir one's blood—and shapely cheek,
As brown and red and dimpled as an apple.
We'll have an hour together in the wood.
[Aloud]
Your father is within?
Mar.
He's late to-night.
Wil.
Has he a fair young dog?
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Our Blanche has pups.
I play with them.
Wil.
No other playfellows?
Mar.
What, have you guessed?—the fairies!
Wil.
On my soul!
Do you dance with them? Tell me where they break
The ring to let you in to be their queen.
Ay?
Mar.
By the beeches.
Wil.
Where the old wall lies
Half ruined?
Mar.
Yes.
Wil.
At this end or at that?
Mar.
Right yonder, all among the elders there.
You'd never see 'em. They are very shy,
I fancy. But they like me; so I'd make
A little cap each. Look! I'm sewing it.
This bit o' red. I see you wear red, sir.
Wil.
A plume of red, but this is iron mail.
I'll let you handle it.—Ah! who comes here?
Who's that?
[Re-enter Rosamund.]
Mar.
My sister—and so beautiful,
You'll like to see her.
Wil.
Little hypocrite!
You've got too bright an eye to wish it matched.
[Aside]
Oh! but she's beautiful, and yet withal
Too self-sufficient; one of Nature's prudes,
Who wrap their beauty round them as a cloak,
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Is Nature's very wanton—will be mine.
[Aloud]
Good even. Shall I say it is mischance
Compels me speak of business that would be
Of interest to your father, though to you
Indifferent—or Heaven's peculiar grace
That gives me vision of two lovely maids
Who came to choose a setter?—for I've heard
Your father breeds such.
Ros.
It is accident.
I'm sorry father's out. Yet since I come
To lay his supper, I can give you hope
You have not journeyed bootless. Sit, sir knight!
Mar
[aside].
Sir knight!
Wil.
Nay, rather kneel—thus.
Ros.
Compliments
Are here ill-breeding. We are simple folk,
And I am no court-lady.
Mar.
Rosamund!
But very pretty.
Wil.
Ladies! Name them not;
There is not one to match you. Why, the heave
Of your green vesture sets desire to think
On the globing water-lilies underneath
Their buds' enthralment; while my city dames
Trick the round swell with gauds and broidery,
Befooling eager gaze—
Ros.
I'm maiden, sir,
As well as no court-lady.
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I'll affect
Clownishness, if it please you.—I will watch
Yon forester until I'm churl in full.
[Enter Michael.]
Michael.
Ay, ay! how now, wench?
Ros.
Father! . . .
Wil.
[aside].
Why, her eyes
Flash to him as the lightning to a stump;
And yet she is the minion of a king!
Mar.
He wants a dog.
He's a sir knight.
Mich.
Ay, ay! the least of the pups.
He shall not have the brown one with a star.
Wil.
Old man, I'd see your dogs—for such you breed,
The country-side allows, as none about.
Mich.
Your honour's servant and King Henry's slave.
Wil.
'Tis for the Queen.
Mich.
Her humble slave. I've got
Some few behind the hatch.
Wil.
I'll come.—You've bred
The fairest daughters of the country-side.
Mich.
Oh, ah! the brownie's mine. It was a wench
Like nuts I wedded, an' so full of prayers
I always had my luck. The comely one—
Why, she's my fosterling: her father, sir,
A man-at-arms; her mother! never saw
So fine a woman—just as red and white
As any lady born. I'll ask you, sir,
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[Exeunt Wilfred and Michael.
Ros.
Margery!
Mar.
I cannot come. I'll creep
Behind 'em.
Ros.
No; it is not maidenly
To be so free with strangers.
Mar.
What a man!
With such big, ugly cheeks, like father's bull;
And did you see his great damp curls, an's eyes?
Such eyes that roll about you—
Ros.
Margery,
Be quiet! He's a wicked man. Don't speak
About his face.
Mar.
He's nasty; but he talks
As kind as can be for a gentleman.
Ros.
[aside].
O Henry! [aloud]
They are coming back. We'll go.
[Exeunt Rosamund and Margery.
| Fair Rosamund | |