University of Virginia Library

SCENE SECOND.

—St. Neot's Well in Selwood Forest, on the road to the Danish Camp at Athelney; a drinking fountain in rock piece (C. flat), painted in rough imitation of those about the metropolis. The drinking cups have been removed—a placard above it. “G. R.—Closed for the winter, by Order of Government. Edric—Chief Commissioner.” A poster on a tree as follows:—“£1,000 reward. Left his throne,—Alfred of Wessex, commonly called Alfred the Great; any body giving information on the above head (leading to its removal from the adjacent shoulders), will find it of much removal from the adjacent shoulders), will find it of much greater use to anybody than the owner.” Sign boards in the enclosure. “Spring guns set here, and expected to grow to perfection before the summer.” “Deer stickers, beware!” “Anybody poaching eggs in these preserves, will be persecuted with the utmost regularity.”
Music.—“A famous man was Robin Hood.”
Enter Dunulf, L.—He is a rough-looking fellow, armed with cross bow, arrows, &c., and carries a spiked bludgeon; he walks to and fro melodramatically, listening on the ground, then comes forward.
Dun.
To strike or not to strike, that was the problem;
Whether to take up arms at once, and nobble 'em—
Bring 'em to terms by violence and riot,
Or sign the document and take things quiet?
On sound reflection I've resolved myself
To put the “Claims of Labour” on the shelf,
And stick to capital—that is to say,
Stick to as much of it as comes my way.
My wife—of my late hours and ways in doubt,
Like other angry masters—locks me out.
But loss of home with grief need scarcely stifle one
I've got my Club here—a little quiet Rifle one.

Head.
(without, R.)
Dunulf! Ahoy!

Dun.
Hillo, ho, boys! hillo!

Head.
(entering, R. 1 E.)
“First in the field as usual.

Dun.
Why, you know,
Since to play William Tell, the plot we've nursed,
It stands to reason, some one must be Furst.”
No news of Alfred?

Head.
None; or very slight.
I took his portrait, in my way, last night;
The sight of it may drooping spirits freshen,
You see, I've knocked off more than one impression.

(pours guineas out of a bag)
Dun.
You are an artist—from the life!

Head.
Not quite,
The gentleman I drew upon at sight
For the amount. A Dane of goodly size,
I left for rather dead than otherwise.

Elswith.
(without, L.)
Dunulf, ahoy!

Dun.
Hillo, ho! lad, this way!
It's that young dog that joined us yesterday!

Enter Elswith, in a boy's forester's dress, with bow and arrows, knives, &c., and carrying a quantity of newly killed game.
Elswith.
(handing game to Dunulf)
Here! pray take these—a junior's contribution.

Dun.
You see, we're quite reduced to destitution.
(winking at Headred)
But what's the matter, lad, you seem in pain!

Elswith.
Oh! such a dreadful accident.

Dunulf and Headred.
Explain!

Elswith.
I'll try. Just now, when practising long shot
At moving objects, it appears I'd got
Close to the Danish lines.

Dun.
(C.)
You daring monkey!

Elswith.
(L.)
Oh, I was safe—hiding behind a donkey,
As recommended by the Thane of Drummond.
Well now, though all my self control, I'd summoned,
(slily)
My arrow slipped—by accident of course—
And picked a Danish general off his horse.

Dun.
Dead?

Elswith.
I'm afraid so, by his limbs and features.

Dun.
(whimpering hypocritically)
We're a poor set of unprotected creatures!

Elswith.
But how gets on our list?

Dun.
Slowly, i'feggs!
You see, the uniform don't suit all legs,
And men who'd fear no battle's knocks or noise,
Would quail before a charge of London boys;
“Still with the funds, they come down pretty stiff,
And if we could but find King Alfred—

Elswith.
If!

Dun.
And get him to accept the presidency;
They vow some sport our visitors should then see.”

Elswith.
In the meantime, our little plan is clear,
The enemy to harass flank and rear;
Watch his weak points, his movements supervise,
And above all, to cut off his supplies.
But there, get in—it's my turn as a sentry,
To watch for the nobility and the gentry.

Exeunt Dunulf and Headred, R. 1 E.
Song.—Elswith.—Air, “'Twas rank and fame.”

Exit, R., after Dunulf and Headred.
Music,—“The British Grenadiers,”—played very shrilly upon a fife, with drum accompaniment.
Enter Oddune, (Earl of Devon), preceded by a Bombasteslike regiment of Saxon soldiers, very ragged and miserable. Oddune is a fine looking veteran, with a flowing beard, covered with ribbons, crosses, &c., but very much dilapidated as to costume.
Odd.
Halt! but you're that already—ev'ry man
Stand—well at ease, as nearly as you can.
Eyes right—you find that easier—do you not?
(aside)
There's not a decent eye-left in the lot.
Now—Order arms! No—don't—that's mere child's play for 'em,
It's easy to say Order arms—who'd pay for 'em?
Here comes a puppy!

Enter Ceolwulf, a Saxon exquisite, carrying a paletot, small carpet bag, and a thin umbrella, L. 1 E.
Ceol.
(L.)
Ha! my lord, you charm me!
(Oddune shakes hands churlishly)
Who are your gallant friends?

Odd.
(R.) (groaning)
The British Army!

Ceol.
(inspecting troops through eye glass)
No! Bless my soul! How very microscopic!
What brought them down to this?

Odd.
It's a wide topic!
“Peace-mongers throwing on our craft aspersion,
And discontent resulting in desertion.

Ceol.
Desertion!

Odd.
Ah! too true—in vain we hid it—
Between ourselves, in secret—the cat did it!”
But never mind—a few reforms—though late—
Will set us on our legs again quite straight.

Ceol.
(eyeing them through glass)
I trust they may—for really—to be candid,
It's high time some of you should be disbanded.

Odd.
Young man, you see those ragged soldiers—

Ceol.
Hem!

Odd.
Don't think too slightingly of even them,
I've known a few such scare-crows ere to-day,
Frighten whole flocks of Eagles, boy, away!

Ceol.
How charmingly antique, upon my word—

Odd.
Not coming my way, I suppose?

Ceol.
Absurd!
Your ways, dear General, you must confess
Are dreadfully old fashioned—eh?

Odd.
(R.)
Well—yes!
I'm still for Alfred—England—Home and Duty!

Ceol.
(L.)
I'm for the new regime—Court life and beauty!

Odd.
(with disgust)
Quick march, my lads! Of powder or of shot any,
He is not worth—besides—we haven't got any!

Music, “British Grenadiers.”—Exeunt Oddune and Soldiers, R. 1 E.
Ceol.
Song.—Air, “Shadow Dance.”

Re-enter Dunulf, Headred, Elswith, and other members of the corps, armed with bludgeons, &c.—they surround Ceolwulf unobserved.
Ceol.
(C.)
Yes, they shall view me with weak nerves astounded,
By all that's lovely in the land surrounded,
Quite at ease, enjoying my own way.

Dun.
(coming down L. C.)
Fine evening, mate! no hurry!

Ceol.
(C., alarmed)
Here! I say!
What men are you?

Dun.
What men do we look like?
We're Saxon labourers upon the strike.

Ceol.
(trying to smile, self assured)
We should be friends, then—I'm a Saxon gent!

Dun.
Yes—but we hear you've signed the Document.

Ceol.
You would'nt think of robbing me?

Dun.

Song.—Dunulf.—Air, “Yonder man in blue.”
Oh, sir! Not so, sir?
We would'nt come to go, sir,
For to rob a Saxon gemman—not for twenty pund,
But, sir—you'll put, sir,
Your name before you cut, sir,
Down for something handsome to our New Strike Fund.

(they all surround Ceolwulf, and hustle him about stage—Elswith drags him off, L. 1 E., and the rest follow)