University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A grand apartment, with a chair of state. Enter Hexulf and Alwy, engaged in close conversation.
Alwy
(continuing to speak).
Distrust it not;
The very honours and high exaltation
Of Ethelbert, that did your zealous ire
So much provoke, are now the very tools
With which we'll work his ruin.

Hex.
But still proceed with caution; gain the queen;
For she, from ev'ry hue of circumstance,
Must be his enemy.

Alwy.
I have done that already,
By counterfeiting Ethwald's signature
Whilst in that still and deathlike state he lay,
To hinder Ethelbert's rash treach'rous haste
From setting Edward free, I have done that
For which, though Ethwald thanks me, I must needs,
On bended knee, for courtly pardon sue.
The queen I have address'd with humble suit
My cause to plead with her great lord, and she
Will her magnificent and high protection
Give to our party, e'en if on her mind
No other motive press'd.

Hex.
I doubt it not, and yet I fear her spirit,
Proud and aspiring, will desire to rule
More than befits our purpose.

Alwy.
Fear it not.
It is the show and worship of high state
That she delights in, more than real power:
She has more joy in stretching forth her hand
And saying, “I command,” than, in good truth,
Seeing her will obey'd.

Enter Queen, with Dwina and Attendants.
Hex.
Saint Alban bless you, high and royal dame!
We are not here, in an intruding spirit,
Before your royal presence.

Queen.
I thank you, good lord bishop, with your friend.
And nothing doubt of your respect and duty.

Alwy.
Thanks, gracious queen! This good and holy man
Thus far supports me in your royal favour,
Which is the only rock that I would cling to,
Willing to give me friendly countenance.

Queen.
You have done well, good Alwy, and have need
Of thanks more than of pardon; nevertheless,
If any trouble light on thee for this,
A royal hand shall be stretch'd forth to save you,
Whom none in Mercia, whosoe'er they be,
Will venture to oppose. I will protect thee,
And have already much inclin'd the king
To favour thee.

Alwy
(kneeling and kissing her hand).
Receive my humble thanks, most honour'd queen.
My conscience tells me I have merited,
Of you and of the king, no stern rebuke;
But that dark cunning Thane has many wiles
To warp men's minds e'en from their proper good.
He has attempted, or report speaks falsely,
To lure King Ethwald to resign his crown.
What may he not attempt! it makes me shrink!
He trusts his treasons to no mortal men:
Fiends meet him in his hall at dead of night,
And are his counsellors.

Queen
(holding up her hands).
Protect us, heaven!

Hex.
Saint Alban will protect you, gracious queen.
Trust me, his love for pious Oswal's daughter
Will guard you in the hour of danger. Hark!
The king approaches.

[Flourish of trumpets.
Queen.
Yes, at this hour he will receive in state
The bold address of those seditious Thanes,
Clam'ring for peace, when fair occasion smiles,
And beckons him to arm and follow her.

Hex.
We know it well; of whom Thane Ethelbert,
In secret is the chief, although young Hereulf
By him is tutor'd in the spokesman's office.

Enter Ethwald, attended by many Thanes and Officers of the Court, &c.
Queen
(presenting Alwy to Ethw.).
My lord, a humble culprit at your feet,
Supported by my favour, craves forgiveness.

[Alwy kneels, and Ethw. raises him graciously.
Ethw.
I grant his suit, supported by the favour
Of that warm sense I wear within my breast Of his well-meaning zeal. (Looking contemptuously at the Queen, who turns haughtily away.)

But wherefore, Alwy,
Didst thou not boldly come to me at first
And tell thy fault? Might not thy former services
Out-balance well a greater crime than this?

Alwy.
I so, indeed, had done, but a shrewd Thane,
Of mind revengeful, and most penetrating,
Teaches us caution in whate'er regards
His dealings with the state. I fear the man.

Ethw.
And wherefore dost thou fear him?

Alwy
(mysteriously).
He has a cloudy brow, a stubborn gait;
His dark soul is shut up from mortal man,
And deeply broods upon its own conceits
Of right and wrong.

Hex.
He has a soul black with foul atheism
And heresies abominable. Nay,
He has a tongue of such persuasive art,
That all men listen to him.

Queen
(eagerly).
More than men:
Dark spirits meet him at the midnight hour,
And horrid converse hold.

Ethw.
No, more I pray you! Ethelbert I know.

Queen.
Indeed, indeed, my lord, you know him not!

Ethw.
Be silent, wife! (Turning to Hex. and Al.)

My tried and faithful Alwy,
And pious Hexulf, in my private closet
We further will discourse on things of moment,
At more convenient time.
The leagued Thanes advance. Retire, Elburga:
Thou hast my leave. I gave thee no command
To join thy presence to this stern solemnity.
Soft female grace adorns the festive hall,
And sheds a brighter lustre on high days
Of pageant state; but in an hour like this,
Destin'd for gravest audience, 'tis unmeet.

Queen.
What, is the queen an empty bauble, then,
To gild thy state withal?

Ethw.
The queens of Mercia, first of Mercian dames,
Still fair example give of meek obedience
To their good lords. This is their privilege.
[Seeing that she delays to go.
It is my will. A good day to your highness.

Queen
(aside as she goes off).
Be silent, wife! this Mollo's son doth say
Unto the royal offspring of a king.

[Exit Queen, frowning angrily, and followed by Dwina and attendants. The Thanes, who entered with Ethwald, and during his conversation with Alwy, &c. had retired to the bottom of the stage, now come forward.
Ethw.
Now wait we for those grave and sluggish chiefs,
Who would this kingdom, fam'd for warlike Thanes,
Change into mere provision-land to feed
A dull unwarlike race.

Alwy.
Ay, and our castles,
Whose lofty walls are darken'd with the spoils
Of glorious war, to barns and pinning folds,
Where our brave hands, instead of sword and spear,
The pruning knife and shepherd's staff must grasp.

Hex.
True; sinking you, in such base toils unskill'd,
Beneath the wiser carl. This is their wish,
But heav'n and our good saint will bring to nought
Their wicked machinations.

Enter an Officer of the castle.
Off.
Th' assembled Thanes, my lord, attend without.

Ethw.
Well, let them enter.
Our seat beneath us will not shake, I trust,
[Exit off.
Being so fenced round.

(Taking his seat, and bowing courteously with a smiling countenance to the Chiefs, &c. who range themselves near him.)
Enter several Thanes, with Hereulf at their head, and presently after followed by Ethelbert.
Her.
(stretching out his hand with respectful dignity).
Our king and sire, in true and humble duty
We come before you, earnestly entreating
Your royal ear to our united voice.

Ethw.
Mine ear is ever open'd to the words
Of faithful duty.

Her.
We are all men, who in th' embattled field
Have by your side the front of danger braved,
With greater lack of prudence than of daring;
And have opposed our rough and scarred breasts
To the fell push of war, with liberality
Not yielding to the bravest of your Thanes,
The sons of warlike sires. But we are men,
Who in our cheerful halls have also been
Lords of the daily feast; where, round our boards,
The hoary headed warrior, from the toil
Of arms releas'd, with the cheer'd stranger smiled:
Who in the humble dwellings of our hinds
Have seen a numerous and hardy race,
Eating the bread of labour cheerfully,
Dealt to them with no hard nor churlish hand.
We, therefore, stand with graceful boldness forth
The advocates of those who wish for peace.
Worn with our rude and long continued wars,
Our native land wears now the alter'd face
Of an uncultur'd wild. To her fair fields,
With weeds and thriftless docks now shagged o'er,
The aged grandsire, bent and past his toil,
Who in the sunny nook had plac'd his seat,
And thought to toil no more, leads joyless forth
His widow'd daughters and their orphan train,
The master of a silent, cheerless band.
The half-grown stripling, urged before his time
To manhood's labour, steps, with feeble limbs
And sallow cheek, around his unroof'd cot.
The mother on her last remaining son
With fearful bodings looks. The cheerful sound
Of whistling ploughmen, and the reaper's song,
And the flail's lusty stroke is heard no more.
The youth and manhood of our land are laid
In the cold earth, and shall we think of war?
O, valiant Ethwald! listen to the calls
Of gentle pity, in the brave most graceful,
Nor, for the lust of more extended sway,
Shed the last blood of Mercia. War is honourable
In those who do their native rights maintain;
In those whose swords an iron barrier are
Between the lawless spoiler and the weak:
But is in those who draw th' offensive blade
For added power or gain, sordid and despicable,
As meanest office of the worldly churl.

Ethw.
Chiefs and assembled Thanes, I much commend
The love you bear unto your native land.
Shame to the son nurs'd on her gen'rous breast
Who loves her not! and be assured that I,
Her reared child, her soldier, and her king,
In true and warm affection yield to none
Of all who have upon her turfy lap
Their infant gambols held. To you her weal
Is gain and pleasure; glory 'tis to me.
To you her misery is loss and sorrow;
To me disgrace and shame. Of this be satisfied;
I feel her sacred claims, which these high ensigns
Have fastened on me, and I will fulfil them:
But for the course and manner of performance,
Be that unto the royal wisdom left,
Strengthen'd by those appointed by the state
To aid and counsel it. Ye have our leave,
With all respect and favour to retire.

Her.
We will retire, King Ethwald, as becomes
Free, independent Thanes, who do of right
Approach or quit at will the royal presence,
And lacking no permission.

Alwy.
What, all so valiant in this princely hall,
Ye who would shrink from the fair field of war,
Where soldiers should be bold?

Her.
(laying his hand on his sword).
Thou liest, mean boastful hireling of thy lord,
And shalt be punish'd for it.

1st Th.
(of Ethwald 's side).
And dar'st thou threaten, mouth of bold sedition?
We will maintain his words.

[Draws his sword, and all the Thanes on the King's side do the same. Hereulf and the Thanes of his side also draw their swords.
1st Th.
(of Hereulf 's side).
Come on, base dealers in your country's blood.

1st Th.
(of Ethwald 's side).
Have at ye, rebel cowards!

Ethw.
(rising from his seat, and standing between the two parties in a commanding posture).
I do command you: peace and silence, chiefs!
He who with word or threat'ning gesture dares
The presence of his king again to outrage,
I put without the covert of the law,
And on the instant punish.

[They all put up their swords, and Ethwald, after looking round him for some moments with commanding sternness, walks off majestically, followed by his Thanes.
Eth.
(casting up his eyes to heaven as he turns to follow Hereulf and his party).
Ah, Mercia,
Mercia! on red fields of carnage
Bleed thy remaining sons, and carrion birds
Tear the cold limbs that should have turn'd thy soil.

[Exeunt the two different parties by opposite sides.