University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

The King's Cabinet.
Ethelstan alone.
Ethelstan.
Lies there on man so dread a penalty
As terror to enjoy the boon of sleep?
Sleep, in whose cave oblivious sorrow finds
Some sanctuary!—Sleep! Nature's best blessing!
Doubled, in lieu of other goods denied,
Upon the wretched,—all save those like me!
O'er him that slays her child, our common Mother
Breathes her maternal curse, with bitterest ire,—
“My best gift be thy bane,” and it is mine!—
Shall I sleep even in the grave? Great Martyr!
Let me this crucifixion of the spirit
Endure, meek-bowing unto Heaven's decree!—
Our monks say—laborare est orare,
So to my royal duties.
[Sits down at his writing-table.
Enter Turketul.
Welcome, Chancellor!
Bring'st with thee softer breathings from the South
Than the sharp North still utters? Our new subjects,
Hereabout, live a land-life as unstable
Almost as their old ocean one; but Time,
Time will assuage the surging of their blood,
And soothe the Danish to a steadier flow
When mingled with the Saxon. How are my Saxons?

Turketul.
Well, sire, and wish you “good-heal” with all hearts.

Ethelstan.
I thank them—Speed their prayer!—What from our East-men?

Turketul.
Much as their brethren here—Danes will be Danes
World over!—break God's peace in heaven itself!—
The Devil, I think, and all his Host were Danish!

Ethelstan.
Thou feel'st with patriotism too raw the ills
They have brought on us since Great Alfred's time;
Were not our fathers worse Danes to the Britons?
Yet then subdued themselves?—Let's all be Englishmen!—
Where are the schedules I desired?

Turketul.
Sir, here.

Ethelstan
(reading).
“Barnstaple Charter, to send burgesses,”—
“Sheriffs for bribery or neglect,”—the mulct
Is too light on them, double it!—“Every Reeve
In every way shall furnish one poor man,
If any such be had, or can be found.”—
That, that's my glory as a Lawgiver!

Turketul.
True, sire; the proudest office to a king,—
General Purveyor for his poor.

Ethelstan.
No, chancellor,
But Ethelstan's proud honour in this law,
Best proof of his paternal governance,
Is that it notes—the poor man “must be found:”
He came unsought when I began to reign!

Turketul.
Beggars are rare, no doubt,—but 'tis among
Your Saxons, sire!

Ethelstan.
In this and everything,
I tell you, we'll be Saxons all ere long:
My kingdom now is one, compact, and round,
To make it which my several wars have tended,
As their great aim and good. Enough of that.—
My library, you've brought it safe? no volume
Lost or forgot?

Turketul.
'Tis safer than myself,
Who have lost somewhat of my girth's full volume,
Riding and baiting not!—The store of books
Is safe at hand.

Ethelstan.
Good! let me see it.

Turketul
(to the Guard).
Ho there!

Ethelstan.
I have sigh'd for them oft—oft—
[A small Book-case brought in.
My best solacers!
Mute speakers to my heart! my steadiest friends!
Pillow companions! Fountains whence I draw
Truth purest, deepest counsel! O my comforts—
Are ye all here? Ethelstan's Royal Library!
Treasure unparallel'd!—Let's see: my Grammar—
My Alcuin—Donatus Major—and Minor—
Apocalypsis—two Art Metricals—
Gloss upon Cato—De Natura Rerum—
All! this is well!

Turketul.
Truly so large collection
Beseems so learned a king.

Ethelstan.
It is my vanity!
In books alone am I a spendthrift, sir!
Few, save the French king, I do flatter me,
Have such voluminous treasure of the mind
Heap'd up, so rich, so precious! Leave me, Chancellor,
I pr'ythee, to the bliss of sweet discourse
With these soul-gladdeners—
Enter Goderic hastily.
How now, thane?

Goderic.
'Tis rumour'd
Prince Fergus, sire, is fled, and the Glee-maiden.

Ethelstan.
Fled!—whither should they fly?—for what?—Good thane,
Send out some trackers.

Goderic.
They are sent, my liege,
This moment spurr'd.—

Ethelstan.
Fool boy! wild girl!—But fled?
Why think you they are fled? who saw them flying?—
Save to the greenwood, like a turtle pair
For privacy—most modest when most amorous?
I thought the Girl too proud for that; but Song
Intoxicates us through the ear, and presently
Our staggering virtue falls!—who saw them flying?

Goderic.
It is but rumour yet.

Turketul.
Now I remember me,
When near the gate, swift by my left swept past
Three hair-brain'd riders; among whom the hindmost
Alone, the brief dusk moment let me mark:
I knew him by the brand which Nature set
'Tween his dark brows to stamp him for a felon;
His calling struck me, though not what he calls him,—
'Twas that same Sword-bearer, condemn'd to drown
But saved—to drier suffocation born!

Ethelstan.
What! he released of late from sanctuary?
A pale brow—all o'er-bristled with black hairs—
Deep, straight-down wrinkles?

Turketul.
Gullies!

Ethelstan.
Limbs distort
With strength, like oaken boughs—his knees upon them
Gnarl'd, as it were—and huge hands—had he not?

Turketul.
Exact.

Ethelstan.
Ha, Bruern! Dared he lurk here still?
That bodes no good!—'Twas your said knave, than whom
The stormy bird which shipmen petrel name,
No more foretels the dangerous time it loves;
Even when I freed him, he scarce raised his brow,
But eyed me sulkily as an ox turn'd loose:
Is he not Danish!

Turketul.
Verily I think
He's one of the Black Strangers!

Ethelstan.
Humph!
Enter Prince Haco.
Well, Haco?
Thou wilt not, Scanian, leave me like the Scot?
Dishonourable youth! who hath stol'n from me
His person pledged, and my bird-maiden too;
Beguiling the strange witlessness of genius
Which can see knavery through, though not a knave!

Haco.
I'm sad almost to tears, your grace!

Ethelstan.
Why comes not
Childe Edmund, with bright filial looks to cheer me?
Told you him that I ask'd?

Haco.
I did, your grace:
He answer'd—nought.

Ethelstan.
Ay! more ingratitude?
Thou hid'st the worst of it!—Well, since he comes not,
The king shall go to him!— (To Goderic)
Search thoroughly!

[Exeunt omnes.