Puslapio vaizdai
PDF
„ePub“

Enter ATHUlf.

ATHULF.

Save you, good friends! How far may 't be to Kingston?

FORESTER.

An hour, my lord, or little more.

Or

'Tis late,

you might take the road by Warlewood chase: 'Tis some mile shorter.

ATHULF.

Being so, my friend,

The lateness should be called a reason more.

FORESTER.

True, sir; but it should lead you near the spot

Where Father Dunstan for these three weeks past
Nightly encounters Satan.

ATHULF.

For myself

I heed not that. Howbeit, that way wending,
Methinks that my attendance would wax thin.
Please you to show me by what devious path

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

You'll find your monasteries emptied out

Under your nose, my Lord, at Sheen and Sion
Ere it be long; and why you arm not now

It passes me to guess.

ODO.

The Abbot, Sir,

The Abbot listens to no mortal voice

Except his mother's; and old Cynethryth

Is fearful of divisions; for in her youth

The splitting of the realm within itself

Was wont to sound a summons to the Dane,

And fetch him o'er the seas.

HARCATHER.

An old wife's tale.

ODO.

I'll bring you to the King, and testify

That what you charge on Athulf and his House
Is worthy of all credit.

HARCATHER.

Ruold, mark,

I will thee not to loiter thus at Court.

Get thee again to Chester, son.

Farewell.

[Exeunt ODO and HARCATHER.

RUOLD.

Father, farewell! and then farewell the Court !
To stay should but divide me from my friends
By worse than distance; for my father's hand

Is raised against them. Wherefore, fare you well,
Good Athulf and Elgiva.. Peace be with you;
And not the war my father fain would wage.

Enter LEOLF and ATHULF.

LEOLF.

Fair shines the hour, and friendly to my spirit,

[Exit.

That brings thee back. Welcome once more to Kingston!

I would have said to Court; but, by my faith!

Far leifer would I to a cottage bid thee,

Than such a Court as this.

ATHULF.

Court, cot, or camp,

Hut, hovel, let it be, or blasted heath,

In shine or storm, well met! What ails the Court?

LEOLF.

Its old disorder; complex and compounded

Of

many ills in even shares partaken.

Ambition's fever, envy's jaundiced eye,
Detraction that exulcerates, aguish fear,

Suspicion's wasting pale insomnolence,

With hatred's canker.

ATHULF.

To which add, no doubt,

Monks for physicians.

LEOLF.

There you touch a theme

For large and leisurely discourse. At present

I will but say, the boldest of bold hearts

Is hither come in season.

Come cowl and crosier!

ATHULF.

Say you so ?

With a cap of steel

And battle-axe in hand, we will not fly.

But softly for a season! In what current

Runs the blood-royal? Are we where we were?

LEOLF.

O'er the Queen-Mother's mean and meagre soul

Hath monkery triumphed; taking for allies

Her past misdeeds and ever-present fears.
Upon the Princess too I see it steal,

And stain her pleasant purity of spirit.

ATHULF.

But still the King is staunch?

LEOLF.

Young, young and warm ;

Prompt in defiance, too precipitate;

For we must have him crowned, or it be safe

To cross them. But the passion which in youth
Drives fast downhill, means that the impulse gained
Should speed us up the hill that's opposite.

How found you the mid-counties?

Raving of Dunstan.

ATHULF.

Oh! Monk-ridden,

LEOLF.

'Tis a raving time:

« AnkstesnisTęsti »