University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

An open space before the walls of a castle, with wild mountains beyond it; enter Glottenbal, armed as from the lists, but bare-headed and in disorder, and his arms soiled with earth or sand, which an Attendant is now and then brushing off, whilst another follows bearing his helmet; with him enters Maurice, followed by Rudigere, who is also armed, and keeps by himself, pacing to and fro at the bottom of the stage, whilst the others come forward.
Glot.
(speaking as he enters, loud and boastingly).
Ay, let him triumph in his paltry
honours,
Won by mere trick and accident. Good faith!
It were a shame to call it strength or skill,
Were it not, Rudigere?

[Calling to Rudigere, who answers not.
Maur.
His brow is dark, his tongue is lock'd, my lord;
There come no words from him; he bears it not
So manfully as thou dost, noble Glottenbal.

Glot.
Fy on't! I mind it not.

Maur.
And wherefore shouldst thou? This same Theobald,
Count and co-burgher—mixture most unseemly
Of base and noble,—know we not right well
What powers assist him? Mark'd you not, my lord,
How he did turn him to the witchy north,
When first he mounted; making his fierce steed,
That paw'd and rear'd and shook its harness'd neck
In generous pride, bend meekly to the earth
Its maned crest, like one who made obeisance?

Glot.
Ha! didst thou really see it?

Maur.
Yes, brave Glottenbal,
I did right truly; and besides myself,
Many observ'd it.

Glot.
Then 'tis manifest
How all this foil hath been. Who e'er before
Saw one with such advantage of the field,
Lose it so shamefully? By my good fay!
Barring foul play and other dev'lish turns,
I'd keep my courser's back with any lord,
Or knight, or squire, that e'er bestrode a steed.
Thinkst thou not, honest Maurice, that I could?

Maur.
Who doubts it, good my lord? This Falkenstein
Is but a clown to you.

Glot.
Well let him boast.
Boasting I scorn; but I will shortly show him
What these good arms, with no foul play against them,
Can honestly achieve.

Maur.
Yes, good my lord; but choose you well your day:
A moonless Friday luck did never bring
To honest combatant.

Glot.
Ha! blessing on thee! I ne'er thought of this:
Now it is clear how our mischance befell.
Be sure thou tell to every one thou meetst,
Friday and a dark moon suit Theobald.
Ho there! Sir Rudigere! hearst thou not this?

Rud.
(as he goes off, aside to Maur.)
Flatter the fool awhile and let me go,
I cannot join thee now.

[Exit.
Glot.
(looking after Rud.)
Is he so crestfallen?

Maur.
He lacks your noble spirit.

Glot.
Fye upon't!
I heed it not. Yet, by my sword and spurs!
'Twas a foul turn, that for my rival earn'd
A branch of victory from Orra's hand.

Maur.
Ay, foul indeed! My blood boil'd high to see it.
Look where he proudly comes.

Enter Theobald armed, with attendants, having a green sprig stuck in his helmet.
Glot.
(going up to Theobald).
Comest thou to face me so? Audacious burgher!
The Lady Orra's favour suits thee not,
Though for a time thou hast upon me gain'd
A seeming 'vantage.

Theo.
A seeming 'vantage!—Then it is not true,
That thou, unhors'd, layst rolling in the dust,
Asking for quarter?—Let me crave thy pardon;
Some strange delusion hung upon our sight
That we believed it so.

Glot.
Off with thy taunts!
And pull that sprig from its audacious perch:
The favour of a dame too high for thee.

Theo.
Too high indeed; and hadst thou also added,
Too good, too fair, I had assented to it.
Yet, be it known unto your courteous worth,
That were this spring a queen's gift, or receiv'd
From the brown hand of some poor mountain maid;
Yea, or bestow'd upon my rambling head,
As in the hairy sides of browsing kid
The wild rose sticks a spray, unpriz'd, unbidden,
I would not give it thee.

Glot.
Dost thou so face me out? Then I will have it.

[Snatching at it with rage.
Enter Hartman.
Hart.
(separating them).
What! Malice! after fighting in the lists
As noble courteous knights!

Glot.
(to Hartman).
Go, paltry banneret! Such friends as thou
Become such lords as he, whose ruin'd state
Seeks the base fellowship of restless burghers;
Thinking to humble still, with envious spite,
The great and noble houses of the land.
I know ye well, and I defy you both,
With all your damned witchery to boot.

[Exit grumbling, followed by Maurice, &c. Manent Theopald and Hartman.
Theo.
How fierce the creature is, and full of folly!
Like a shent cur to his own door retired,
That bristles up his furious back, and there
Each passenger annoys.—And this is he,
Whom sordid and ambitious Hughobert,
The guardian in the selfish father sunk,
Destines for Orra's husband.—O foul shame!
The carrion-crow and royal eagle join'd,
Make not so cross a match.—But thinkst thou, Hartman,
She will submit to it?

Hart.
That may be as thou pleasest, Falkenstein.

Theo.
Away with mockery!

Hart.
I mock thee not.

Theo.
Nay, banneret, thou dost, Saving this favour,
Which every victor in these listed combats
From ladies' hands receives, nor then regards
As more than due and stated courtesy,
She ne'er hath honour'd me with word or look
Such hope to warrant.

Hart.
Wait not thou for looks.

Theo.
Thou wouldst not have me to a dame like this,
With rich domains and titled rights encompass'd,
These simple limbs, girt in their soldier's gear,
My barren hills and ruin'd tower present,
And say, “Accept—these will I nobly give
In fair exchange for thee and all thy wealth.”
No, Rudolph Hartman, woo the maid thyself,
If thou hast courage for it.

Hart.
Yes, Theobald of Falkenstein, I will,
And win her too; but all for thy behoof.
And when I do present, as thou hast said,
Those simple limbs, girt in their soldier's gear,
Adding thy barren hills and ruin'd tower,
With some few items more of gen'rous worth,
And native sense and manly fortitude,
I'll give her in return for all that she
Or any maid can in such barter yield,
Its fair and ample worth.

Theo.
So dost thou reckon.

Hart.
And so will Orra. Do not shake thy head.
I know the maid: for still she has receiv'd me
As one who knew her noble father well,
And in the bloody field in which he died
Fought by his side, with kind familiarity:
And her stern guardian, viewing these grey hairs
And this rough visage with no jealous eye
Hath still admitted it.—I'll woo her for thee.

Theo.
I do in truth believe thou meanst me well.

Hart.
And this is all thou sayst? Cold frozen words!
What has bewitch'd thee, man? Is she not fair?

Theo.
O fair indeed as woman need be form'd
To please and be belov'd! Though, to speak honestly,
I've fairer seen; yet such a form as Orra's
For ever in my busy fancy dwells,
Whene'er I think of wiving my lone state.
It is not this; she has too many lures;
Why wilt thou urge me on to meet her scorn?
I am not worthy of her.

Hart.
(pushing him away with gentle anger).
Go to! I praised thy modesty short-wnile,
And now with dull and senseless perseverance,
Thon wouldst o'erlay me with it. Go thy ways!
If through thy fault, thus shrinking from the onset,
She should with this untoward cub be match'd,
'Twill haunt thy conscience like a damning sin,
And may it gnaw thee shrewdly!

[Exeunt.