University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—Walls of Berwick.
Two Gentlemen.
FIRST GENT.
Good-morrow, sir, your watch is now relieved
By yonder sun, who now peeps glimmering out
From his half-open'd casement in the east;
See'st thou his dazzling forehead?

SECOND GENT.
I behold him;
He's welcome to take up his watch in heaven,
And chase us bedward from our nightly posts.
I am a weary wight with vigilance.

FIRST GENT.
Was there aught stirring in the midnight field?
Heard you or saw you anything ambiguous,
Which cautious men, yet wav'ring in suspicion,
Might as a sign interpret that the foe
Had not decamp'd and vanish'd to his land?

SECOND GENT.
There was nor sight nor sound within the wall,
Saving the bat that flapp'd, and mole that scraped,
Crumbling up idle hillocks to the moon,
Where, but three days ago, thick-planted tents,
Peopled with surly soldiers, iron-clad,
Humm'd terribly with menaces of war.

FIRST GENT.
I think King Edward be withdrawn and gone;
We have not seen an English pennon flying
Since Monday's vesper-bell, when all their host
Moved westward with the moon's sole privity:
And yesterday a hind from Cheviot Hill
Reported that he heard their horses' hoofs
All on a clattering gallop towards England.

SECOND GENT.
I pray to Heaven that herdsman's news be true;
So we may spend Good-Friday yet in peace,
And recreate our souls with heavenly thoughts,
Our bodies with good things.

FIRST GENT.
Look how the sun,
His burnish'd feet now leaning on the sea,
Scatters his shot of many thousand rays,
On the black bosom of the occident,
Where Night, as if unwilling yet to go,
Coils and drags in her slow-receding tail.
Morn makes a goodly prospect.

SECOND GENT.
She does so
To him whose eyes, fresh with the dew of sleep,
Search round for jolly sights; but to the wight
For-spent with weary watch, I ween, a pallet
Of rich soft chaff is sweeter.

FIRST GENT.
See! what glitters
Low yonder in the north, like golden lace,
Hemming th'horizon.

SECOND GENT.
Tut, a dozen or two
Of milk-maids, with their pails of polish'd tin
Upon their heads, approaching to the town
To sell their milky merchandize.

FIRST GENT.
Look, look,
It is no dairy matter; pails of milk
Are silvery in their light; but yonder gleam
Is yellow, and seems shotten back from brass
And points of sparkling steel.

SECOND GENT.
By Heaven, a host!—
I mark their banners in the morning shine:
Spears bristle; helmets wave; and heads of heroes,
Distinctly now develop.

FIRST GENT.
Hark the sounds
Appertinent to military march!
I hear the hautboy's clamour; it rides whistling,
Upon the wind.

SECOND GENT.
See'st thou yon midmost banner,
Highest afloat and brightest? Can thy gaze
Detect its arms and painted imagery?

FIRST GENT.
The Lion sure—

SECOND GENT.
A troop, a troop from Scotland,
Fast hasting to our aid.

FIRST GENT.
I see, I see,
The Rothes griffins flapping hitherward
Their broider'd wings! Our countrymen of Fife
Approach; I know their various bannerols:
Triumph and joy await us: Hoa, friends,
All hail, and merry welcome!

SECOND GENT.
Let us hence
T'admit them—

FIRST GENT.
Down anon, and heave the gates
Off from their hinges, to let in with joy
And flying banners our good hearts of Fife!
Heav'n bless our little kingdom! Hoa! coming.

[Exeunt.