University of Virginia Library

Scene VI.

—Without the Labyrinth. Morning. Enter King Henry and Rosamund.
K. Hen.
Sweet Love,
Here we must part.
[Taking her hands.
Oh, brave, unwedded hands, that wear the kiss
Of troth-plight for their pledge—a pretty bond!
You have the royal seal of a king's lips
At your free service ever.

Ros.
I am glad
No woman ever spoke to me of love.
It's pure
Only from burning lips.

K. Hen.
[aside].
Her innocence
Kept the flame golden! [Aloud]
I have taught you well?
My bonnie wood-bird, when I'm at the wars,
I'll lie in my tent and think of the sweet throat
Of the nightingale that swells for me.
[Kissing her throat.]
Again
You turn? Home, sweeting, this is forwardness
To stroke my curls and fondle me.
We've done with parting, if you glisten so,
Unpacking all your sweets before the eyes
That must to fast.

Ros.
O Henry, could I lie
In the green sunshine and sing soft all day
The words o' the lute!
The little wood-sorrel and strawberry leaves,
I've smiled to see them twinkling with my tears,
When I have cried for sound of horse's feet,
And the woodpecker provoked me.

K. Hen.
What surprise
To find my lady in her midmost bower,
Loosing from silken fillet, knot by knot,
That hair that measures, as I well believe,
My royal stature! When you comb it out,
As the rower from the sea strikes sudden light
With his oar's motion, every crispèd tress
Will shimmer into argent. I shall laugh
To find you silver-haired. Now to my will.
You've wedded a Plantagenet. Seven nights
Keep watch in heaven. When your couch is touched
With the first moonbeam, take it as a sign
That night
You lie not lonely.

Ros.
While I live alone
Let me be free to gossip with the woods.

K. Hen.
My lady keeps her bower.

Ros.
What should you fear?

K. Hen.
Your father will be seeking you.

Ros.
My lord,
You would not banish me from sight of him,
My fond old foster-father? He'll ne'er know
I slip away from him. I still must tend
His gentle childishness, and to my state
When the King rides his forests.

K. Hen.
Were it my dearest hound that thus let creep
A minute 'twixt my word and bidding done—

Ros.
I cannot leave my father. He'll not eat
If I dress not his food, and Margery
So wild and negligent. . . .

K. Hen.
I'll order good Sir Topaz to procure
[Enter Margery.
All comforts for old Michael; trust me, Rose.
Sweetheart, once more farewell.

[Exit King.
Ros.
There's Margery;
She'll tell me of my father. What! her cheeks
Are peonies; she looks . . . Where have you been?
Who tricked you in these gauds?

Mar.
[dancing].
A knight! all gold
To his horse's knees. It's splendid! You're in white.
How beautiful! But, sister, I've a man
Gave me these pearls, and called 'em mistletoe—
A kiss for every one. He's taking me
To London on a palfrey.
[Stopping before Rosamund.
Rosamund,
Though I'm a child, he's making love to me;
It's like you and the King.

Ros.
The King! O God!
You've been asleep all night, at home?

Mar.
No, no—
With Sir Wilfred, and he promised me
A frock all blue, with stars, and made me laugh.
He'll after me; the palfrey had a stone
In's foot, and while he pulled it out I peered,
And something glistened—then I jumped down quick
And saw . . . don't shudder. Rosie, do you live
Inside? Why, it's a palace. He'll come soon.
Just see, this scarf
Is gayer than the kingcups.

Ros.
[aside].
A mere child
Playing with fairies!

Mar.
Past the cherry-trees
We rode: the moon was like a candle held
To the little slit of light down in our room!
Rosie, I cried to kiss you once, and he—
[Enter Sir Wilfred.
He's coming—held me firm, blew down my ear,
“You think none naughty but yourself, you elf!
Your sister can play pranks. She sleeps to-night
In a palace with the King.” Oh, but it's fine!

Ros.
[aside].
How can I save her? [Aloud.]
Child, leave gambolling,
They want to steal and kill you. Take my hand,
[Catching her hand and turning to the labyrinth.
Come, see the pretty palace.

Sir Wil.
[advancing].
Pardon me,
That lady is my prize, if you're the king's.
Your little foster-sister has an eye
Of an enchanting wildness. In attire
Becoming that brave skin. . . .

Ros.
[gathering Margery in her arms].
Sweet Margery!
Oh, do not look at him. Love, hide your eyes
In my bosom; hush!
[To Wilfred.
You shall not touch the child.
The King—his name shall shield her.

Sir Wil.
Ay,
You bear it proudly. You're his mistress—so!
Queen Elinor shall hear of this.

Mar.
[looking up].
Rose, Rose!
Do you not want me go and see the streets,
And wear grand jewels? I will stay with you.
Don't sob so 'gainst my heart.

Ros.
Ill keep the child.
[To Margery.
Sister is lonely; stay with her.

Sir Wil.
[to Margery].
You little fool, d'you hear? I'll fetch the Queen.
She'll frighten you.
And when she sees your sister here, who keeps
The King away, she'll take her by the hair,
And bind it round her till it chokes.

Mar.
No, no!
She shall not come.

Ros.
You have betrayed the child.
God curse you for't.

Mar.
Have I done wrong, dear Rose?

Sir Wil.
[to Rosamund].
Fair precedent
You've given my audacity. The thing
You call her ruin had been triumph if
The actress were yourself; no more to her
Than trick of a rash goblin. [To Margery.]
Margery,
You must with me; and if you're very good,
I'll not blab of your sister. If you stay,
I'll fetch the Queen
To murder her by inches.

Mar.
[struggling from Rosamund].
Murder Rose!
I'll strike her in the face. [To Rosamund.]
He is my man,
And I must follow him! Rose, you'll be safe,
He'll not offend me.

[Kisses her.
Ros.
[clasping her, and kneeling to Sir Wilfred].
For our Lady's sake,
Leave this wild innocence to me.—
I've sinned.
She's torn
Her frock in the briers, and laughs.

Mar.
[struggling].
I'll not with you,
With my man!
[Jumping into Wilfred's saddle.
Good-bye.

[Exeunt Sir Wilfred and Margery waving her hands.
Ros.
And I am bound to him,
The King and my seducer! Oh, he loves,—
It is not so he loves me!—
Margery,
He's hard and cruel; Margery, come back!
Nothing to see
But a trout leap in the stream.

[Turns to the labyrinth.
[Enter Sir Topaz.]
Top.

Mercy! if there are not folk about, and my
lady outside the walls. Bless the pretty soul, she looks
badly. There's been a summer shower on the two roses

of her face. My dear damozel, I must lead you back
'Tis a strict command I have that you never stray from
the door. There's a little garden within, where is broom
and what not. Nay, look not so down-hearted. I've
planted sunflower and sweet basil against the season.

Ros.
I'm so bewildered. Where in all this green
Starts the way home?

Top.

Straight to the door, straight to the door—that
is your home. Permit

[takes her arm].
Ros.

And will you never let me out again?

Top.

Nay, nay; you'll be very happy. And my dear
monarch is so full of griefs, I'd rather lose a seat in
heaven than put you in peril.

[Exeunt.