Its cares, its kingdoms, and unbank the hours

To that soft overflow which bids the heart
Yield increase of delight. Beloved Elgiva,
Thy beauty o'er the earth a passion breathes
Which softly sweeping through me, brings one tone
From all this plural being, as the wind

From yonder sycamore, whose thousand leaves

With lavish play to one soft music moved

Tremble and sigh together.

ELGIVA.

What a charm

The neighbouring grove to this lone chamber lends !
I've loved it from my childhood. How long since
Is it that standing in this compass'd window
The blackbird sang us forth; from yonder bough
That hides the arbour, loud and full at first
Warbling his invitations, then with pause
And fraction fitfully as evening fell,

The while the rooks, a spotty multitude,

Far distant crept across the amber sky.

But hark! what strain is this? No blackbird's song,

Nor sighing of the sycamore!

EDWIN.

Some friend,

As if the key-note of our hearts divining,

Accordant music ministers.

Hist! Hist!

(A Song from without.)

God speed thee, false day,

With thy gauds and thy splendour;

Thy glare frights away

All that's truthful and tender.

Give place then above

To the star that of old

Lit the glances of Love

When his secret was told.

ELGIVA.

It dies away.

EDWIN.

It is but distant more.

(Song resumed.)

On the bosom of Night

Lie the tresses of Truth,

But its moments take flight

With the light steps of Youth.

Make the most of the least,

For too soon comes the warning,
When announced in the East

Is the grey-headed Morning.

EDWIN.

Come, follow it; but, stop-let me leap down.
And help you from the window-sill. So quick!
If you are light of foot as Atalanta,

You ought like her to give your Love the start.

[Exeunt.

Enter the QUEEN MOTHER and DUNSTAN from opposite sides.

THE QUEEN MOTHER.

So, well-so, well-what more? 'Tis even so!
What more? But saw ye-Mercy on my soul !

But, ah! my good Lord Abbot... What remains?

DUNSTAN.

Madam, to bed; and let no light be seen,
Nor any voice be heard in bower or hall.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

A COURT IN FRONT OF THE PALACE.

Enter the CHIEF HUNTSMAN followed by other Huntsmen, a BUGLEMAN, and Hounds.

CHIEF HUNTSMAN.

What! none astir? By the Lord! the King lies long :
Young blood, sirs-ay, it tingles when it wakes,
And yet it sleeps the soundest. Ranger! Churl!

What! down, sir, down! Oh, flatteries of dogs!
We're courtiers all. Come, Uthric, where 's thy horn ?
We'll sound them a reveillée.

BUGLEMAN.

I wheeze to-day as who cries,

By the mass!

Bellows to mend ! '

I'm out of breath with snoring. But no matter;

SECOND HUNTSMAN.

Prithee, wake not the moon;

'Tis but a half hour gone since she turned pale

And went to bed.

THIRD HUNTSMAN.

This dog is full of fleas.

SECOND HUNTSMAN.

Excuse him; he has been amongst the monks.

Who's here?

(Horn winds.)

CHIEF HUNTSMAN.

Earl Sidroc. You are first, my lord.

Enter EARL SIDROC.

SIDROC.

I'm risen this hour; a snuff of the dawn for me!

My nose doth love it better than a nosegay.

Right, my good lord.

Oh, the best bitch!

CHIEF HUNTSMAN.

You see her there, sir—Elf ;
She holds them all together;

Relay or vauntlay 'tis the same to her;
Endways she runs it still and orderly.

SIDROC.

She is a good one. Sound another call.

To keep the King's dogs waiting is unmannerly.