Puslapio vaizdai
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ACT III.

SCENE I.

THE CASTLE AT TONBRIDGE.

LEOLF'S Army encamped around it. OSCAR and LEOLF'S SENESCHAL.

OSCAR.

I would that Wulfstan might have staid behind ;
He hath the Heretoch's ear, and though he's wise
His wisdom is not for the camp; we march

As with a drag-chain.

SENESCHAL.

Nay, good Oscar, nay;

We can't go further yet.

The force in front

Hourly increases; our reserves are late;

And nothing comes from Wessex.

Enter WULFSTAN THE WISE.

Worthy Sir,

Your daughter, as I hear, is married. Well;

It is a blessing if her choice be yours,

And if it be not, still the father's heart

Will give the child God-speed.

WULFSTAN.

I did but bid her be less mutable,

Assuredly.

Telling her that the past, or worse or better,
If driven in her and experienced home,
Might be as piles whereon to build the future
Else insecure. I bid her be resolved,

Her choice now planted, forth of it to bring
The fruits of constancy; for constancy

On all things works for good; the barren breeds,
The fluent stops, the fugitive is fixed

By constancy. I told you, did I not,
The story of the wind, how he himself,

The desultory wind, was wrought upon ?

OSCAR.

Yes, Sir; you told it twice.

WULFSTAN.

[Exit SENESCHAL.

The tale was this:

The wind, when first he rose and went abroad

Through the waste region, felt himself at fault,

Wanting a voice; and suddenly to earth
Descended with a wafture and a swoop,
Where, wandering volatile from kind to kind,
He wooed the several trees to give him one.
First he besought the ash; the voice she lent
Fitfully with a free and lashing change
Flung here and there its sad uncertainties:
The aspen next; a fluttered frivolous twitter
Was her sole tribute: from the willow came,
So long as dainty summer dressed her out,
A whispering sweetness, but her winter note
Was hissing, dry, and reedy: lastly the pine
Did he solicit, and from her he drew

A voice so constant, soft, and lowly deep,
That there he rested, welcoming in her
A mild memorial of the ocean-cave

Where he was born.

Enter LEOLF, with EMMA, ERNWAY, and GRIMBALD.

LEOLF.

Unhappy news! last night!

Sorely I grieve-ay, bitterly repent—

Had I been in my place-oh, weak recoil—

But it avails not.-Yesterday, my friends,

Was fruitful in events. The King was crowned, Was married, was o'ermastered by the Monks. The Queen the while to Chester carried captive; Earl Athulf to the Tower.

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A shout-a hubbub in the camp-our ears

Are but fools' ears, and yet they hear a shout.

LEOLF.

A welcome to some friend. As each arrives

They hail him thus, and as the force he brings
Is more or less, so measure they the cry.

This is the loudest I have heard. Look out.

ERNWAY.

I

see no force, my Lord, and but one man,

Who hurries hitherward, and as he comes

They crowd him, and with clapping of their hands And shouting bring him on. See !

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Leolf.... Alas! . . . . What, Grimbald with you! . . Nay,

You know it then already.

Think no worse

Of us or of our fortunes than they are.

This half-faced treason will not touch the life.

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The Princess with a signet of the King's,
Gold of her own, and promises and tears,
Wrought on my guards. They follow me.
You are avenged. My sister, oh my sister!
She is not and she could not be forgiven !
God's justice.....

LEOLF.

Oh! Leolf!

Athulf, say no more but this ;

She stands within the keeping of God's love.

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