University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—London. An Apartment in the Tower.
Dunstan and Gurmo.
Dunstan.
Whence com'st thou? From the King? Is he awake?

Gurmo.
He is.

Dunstan.
How slept he? Soundly through the night?

Gurmo.
He did.

Dunstan.
Why how? Did not the dogs then bark?

Gurmo.
Yes; he slept still.

Dunstan.
The watches of the night
Are changed too seldom. Once an hour henceforth
Let them be changed, and ever as they change
Let drums and trumpets sound.

Gurmo.
Her Majesty
Has waited long. Likewise the Primate.

Dunstan.
Whew!
I had forgotten them. Conduct them hither.
[Exit Gurmo.
The fear, but not the fact, of death . . . if this,
This only should suffice,—why, then, my soul
Should find a free deliverance to the work,
And after hold its state more cheerfully.
If not, the darkness of the mortal deed
Shall yet be kindled by a light divine.
Enter the Queen Mother and Odo.
Content you, Madam. Let me hear no more.
You have another and a better son;
Though this should not deserve to reign nor live,—
As he is truly dead in his offence
Already, yea, and stinketh,—yet should that
Applausively succeed. I say no more;
But leave to me the working out God's will
Touching them both.

Queen Mother.
My Lord, your very self
Was witness of his hardihood and spite,
And how most filthily by word of mouth
He spat upon me, so to say, and railed
Foully with evil speaking from his heart,
Renouncing and disowning me for aye,
Likewise the ten commandments. Yet, my Lord,
He is my son—this womb did bring him forth—
You know not what it is to be a mother;
I do beseech you, spare him!

Dunstan.
To what end?
For God's behoof, or yours, or his, or whose?

Queen Mother.
Speak, my Lord Primate; bid him to spare my son.

Dunstan.
Who biddeth me?

Odo.
Lord Abbot, by mine office
I might be bold to speak by way of bidding;
Yet still remembering thine unrivalled merits
And services to God, I say but this:
The times are evil; accidents may come
Yielding occasion of exceeding malice
With havoc to the Church and injury
And backward sliding, if beyond the range
Of Christian prudence, through inordinate zeal,
We push our present promise of success.
For of one colour though the city be,
And neighbouring shires the same, still is the land,
Eastward and northward specially, a web
Diversely diapered; for here the weft
Is spun of light and dipped in dyes of heaven;
There, dyed in Styx and spun of Satan's slaver.
We may not think that Athulf, who is held
To number twenty thousand, will be scared
By caps of citizens tossed up i' the air;
Nor may we count upon the citizens' caps
For courses which may seem to some extreme.
Wherefore behoves us so to use success
As not to raise against us those, though erring,
Whose honest zeal stands stoutly for the crown,
Demanding strict succession.

Dunstan.
Be content.
Though neither law nor usage of the realm
Did ever yet demand what these demand,
Nor ever yet did honesty so err,
Still have I pondered all. The godless King
Shall abdicate; he shall not be removed.

Odo.
If reason should so work with him at length
That such should be his choice, 'twere excellent.

Dunstan.
Since he was crowned, experience, by my hand
Directed, hath admonished him to deem
The state of Kings unenviable. Now
He shall be tutored to perceive the joys
Of privateness, best fitted for his years.
I pray you meddle not. Nor, Madam, you.
And when we meet again some three days hence,
'Twill be in Edgar's reign, whom God preserve!