University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Interior of a Danish Tent.
Upon a buckler, supported by trestles, is laid the body of Fergus. Constantine, his hands locked, and Runilda, sitting each side of it.
Enter Ellisif hastily.
Ellisif.
The camp assaulted! Up for shame, old king!
Myself have drawn a dagger that shall give
A woman's blow,—incurable,—to the heart!
Up! even a man can do as much when age
Makes him as faint of arm, if as fierce-will'd!
Thou couldst destroy one Saxon; one, it might be,
Who is the life of millions!—O what a deed,
Glorious and utilous, which a child might do,
Seventy or seven years old, of weakest nerve,
With its nurse-tender's needle nicely driven!
Up, royal host! defend thy guest—thyself—
Save both—perchance the field.

Constantine.
I care not for it—
The pillars of earth and heaven may fall together
On miserable me!—I care not for it!
Would the last day were come!

Ellisif.
The last day come?
'Tis come long since! and daily going on
To thousands,—all, with whom this world is ended!—
Destruction now strides hither,—hark his step!—
He and Confusion with her numberless feet,
His helpmate dear!—Faith, I'll lend her my hand
For sake of common sex; and who knows all
Disorder may turn up to a steady eye?—
Ha! Ethelstan!—by my presaging hopes
And hates, this way he stumbles!—said I not,
'Twas never in mischance too late to die?
Victory's crown may from the head be pluck'd
Even as it drops there, and upon its place
Vengeance pour out her vial!—Firm, be firm!

Enter Anlaf, driven in by Ethelstan: others combating; the tent overthrown.
Ethelstan.
Yield self or life!

Ellisif
(striking at Ethelstan with her dagger).
Yield them both, thou to me!
[Runilda rushing between, receives the blow through her breast.
Baffled!—hadst thou a hundred arms and eyes,
Thou hadst not 'scaped, but for this fond—fool—Woman!

Ethelstan.
Take up the girl, and lay her by her lover:
Devotedness, how beautiful thou look'st,
Yea in the blood of thy self-sacrifice!—
(To Turketul entering)
Hath Anlaf 'scaped?

Turketul.
Fled fast!

Ethelstan.
Pursue him, Chancellor!
But make the road smooth for his swift retreat.

[Exit Turketul.
Ellisif.
Take off thy silent eye from me: thou see'st
Enough already what I am,—save this—
Thy brother's widow!—Edwin's!

Ethelstan.
Waked at last!

Ellisif.
Now to the block!—You have a host of headsmen!

Ethelstan.
Convey her to her cell at Beverley.—
(To Ellisif.)
Seek there Heaven's pardon; though such deeds might well
Drain Mercy's fountain dry!—Hope, like myself,
Nought in this life, but leave to quit it soon!
[Exit Ellisif guarded.
(Looking after her.)
I stand like one deserted on an isle,
That keeps the parting vessel long in view,
Till a mere sun-bright speck,—which vanishes
And tells him—hope is gone!
(Beholding Constantine.)
My self, grown old!
Cypress, thou art the real crown of kings!—
Thy punishment is heavy, sovran neighbour,
Losing both child and realm by one sad chance;
I give thee back this last, as some poor solace
In such a sorrow: How more glorious far
To make a king than be a king!
Enter Edmund, Egil, Goderic, and Saxons, with the Reafen Standard.
All fled?

Edmund.
All, but five kings, seven yarls, and churls by thousands,
Left on the field.

Egil.
O ay! ay! others, flocks of them!—
Their kindred,—eagles, ravens, hawks, kites, cormorants,—
Sure to bide with them till their bones are bleach'd!
(Chanting.)

Ethelstan.
Thanks noble Egil, for thy sword and song!—
Thanks every one!—But are the Cambrians fled?
The Picts? the Gael?

Egil.
Like flying crows, all wings!

Ethelstan.
Well, slay them not, but scourge them sharply home:
I am full king of England now, and lose
The conqueror in the father, over all!
Edmund, thou art mine heir; no other son
Shall wifeless Ethelstan e'er have but thee:
I feel swift dissolution in my blood;
Let me devote my poor remain of years
To glean the harvest of this glorious field,
Honour, and peace, and union to the Isle:
Be this my sole aim, and some solacement!

Scene closes.