And if it chance, as like enough it may,
That we be scattered, we shall meet again
At Ruthin, whither is the Princess fled.
Round her we rally. Ride, Sirs, for your lives.

SCENE XV.-Malpas.

Interior of the Cathedral. Candles burning, and altars decked, as for a service of thanksgiving. A corpse lies on a bier in the transept, and the chaunting of a service for the dead is heard at intervals from a side-chapel. Monks enter in procession, and lastly DUNSTAN.

Dunstan. So flee the works of darkness. Sing ye the psalm

"Quid gloriaris.'-Stop: a hasty step Rings in the cloister.

Soldier.

Enter a SOLDIER.

I am bid, my Lord,

To seek the Lord Harcather, for his son
Ruold is slain.

Dunstan. Silence! No more of that.
Harcather is gone forth to meet the Dane.
Let him not know it yet.-

Enter BRIDFERTH.

Well, Bridferth, well?

Bridferth. Athulf and Sidroc have escaped, my Lord, The prisoners say, and, as I learn elsewhere, Doing much havoc in their desperate flight.

Dunstan. 'Tis true. I thought no less.-What corse is this?

A Monk. The Queen's, my Lord, awaiting burial.
Dunstan.

Withdraw the winding-sheet, that once again
I may behold her.-Art thou she indeed!
The blankness of mortality in thee

Seems more than in another! Where be now

Hers ?

The flushings of the fervent cheek, the fires
That lightened from those eyes! Oh, rueful sight!
Methinks that thou dost look reproachfully.
Not me-not me-Upbraid not me, pale Queen!
I slew thee not, nor yet desired thy death;
I would have willed thee to repent and live,
But lo! the will of God hath mastered mine.

Chaunt from the side-Chapel.

Quando caro sepelitur,
Heu! de spiritu nil scitur,

Utrum gaudet an punitur,

"Quis orabit pro delicto?
Quis spondebit pro convicto?
Quis judicio tam stricto

Fiet in præsidium ? "

--Better be so than be the living cause
Of death eternal and a nation's lapse
To mortal sin. Nor sin nor sorrow now

Hath power upon thee; nor canst thou, fair mask,
Be ever more their minister.

Attendant.

Enter an ATTENDANT.

The King, so please you

Dunstan.

My Lord,

What, Sir, of the King?

Attendant. He is again delirious, and hath torn The bandage from his wound. He bleeds amain.

Chaunt again.

"Etsi pœnas infernales
Agnovisses, quæ et quales,
Tuos utique carnales

Appetitus frangeres ;

Et innumera peccata,

Dicta, facta, cogitata,

Mente tota consternata

Merito deplangeres."

Enter another ATTENDANT.

Attendant. My Lord, the King, the King!
Dunstan.

What comes he hither?

Enter EDWIN, followed by a PHYSICIAN and ATTENDANTS.
Edwin. Where art thou, my beloved? Come to me!
Art thou not here? They said so, but 'twas false-
Thou art not here, for if thou wert, I know
Thou 'dst fly to meet me.-Ha! I see thee now.
And yet thou mov'st not. What! in chains again?
Not so, Elgiva-thou art free, my Love-

I smote them with the sword. Oh, come to me!
Give me thy hand.

Dunstan.

Doctor, thou mad'st report

Attendant. He asked us if the Queen were buried

yet,

Or where the body lay; we told him, here;

And he commanded we should bring him.

Dunstan.

See!

Edwin. Thy hand is very cold.-Come, come, look up. Hast not a word to say to so much love? Well-as thou wilt-but 'twas not always thus. So soon to be forgotten! Oh, so soon!

And I have loved so truly all this while !—

I dream-I do but dream, I think.-What's here?
'Tis not the dress that thou wert wont to wear.
This is a corpse! Attendance, here! What, ho!
Who was so bold to bring a stone-cold corpse
Into the King's apartment? Stop-be still-
I know not that. Give me but time, my friends,
And I will tell you.

The Physician.

Draw him from the corpse:

This loss of blood that drains the fever off

Anon will bring him to himself.

A Monk.

I hear a shout as of a multitude

In the North Suburb.

Dunstan.

And look abroad.

Edwin.

My Lord,

Bridferth, mount the tower,

That was a voice I knew

It came from darkness and the pit-but hark!
An Angel's song. 'Tis Dunstan that I see!
Rebellious Monk! I lay my body down
Here at thy feet to die, but not my soul,
Which goes to God. The cry of innocent blood
Is up against thee, and the Avenger's cry
Shall answer it. Support me, Sirs, I pray;
Be patient with me... there was something still...
I know not what . . . under your pardon ... yes.
Touching my burial... did I not see but now
Another corpse I pray you, Sirs,... there

...

there...

BRIDFERTH (from the tower).

My Lord, my Lord, Harcather flies; the Danes
Are pouring thro' the gate. Harcather falls.

[Dies.

Dunstan. Give me the crucifix. Bring out the relics. Host of the Lord of Hosts, forth once again!

The Curtain falls.

NOTES.

Preface.

"The prayer of the Anglo-Saxon Liturgy, for deliverance à furore Northmannorum.”

THE Anglo-Saxon ritual of the Cathedral Church of Durham, printed by the Surtees Society, contains some curious specimens of the religious services of the period. I am tempted to quote the invocation by which the Devil was prevented from riding upon horses, goats, and swine. "Habraham, Habraham! equos, capras, et porcusque benedic latrinibus, angelus qui positus est super animalia nostra custodiat ea, ut non poterit Diabolus inequitare illa. Habraham teneat vos per ac divinitas Dei, Deus ad dexteram, angelus ad sinistram, propheta vos prosequentur, martyres antecedant vos, patronesque persequentur, vos custodiat Dominus oves et boves, vitulos, equos et apes, custodiantque vos his pastores. Signum crucis Christi Jesu, in nomine Dei summi, per Dominum-"

I will add the "oratio" which was used on the occasion of shaving a virgin beard: "Deus cujus spiritu creatura omnis adulta congaudet, exaudi preces nostras super hunc famulum tuum juvenilis ætatis decore lætantem, et primis auspiciis adtondendum; exaudi, Domine, ut in omnibus protectionis tuæ munitus auxilio, cœlestem benedictionem accipiat, et præsentis vitæ presidiis gaudeat et æterne, per-”

The former of these offices represents the superstition of the Anglo-Saxon Church in all its grossness: the latter, though it may excite a smile, ought, however, to be regarded with respect, as one of those tendernesses of religious care with which the Church in old times watched over the lives of its members.

Page 3, Act I., Scene i.

"For you shall know that what by ale or wine

To man is done, that acorns do to swine."

This effect is owing probably to a process of fermentation