■ill l.^ m ■Ih LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. y%-^m^ GHjptp... _ Goptjrtg^ 1 Shelf. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/athelwoldOOrive ATHELWOLD li^'V "".V ' f wm \ w ■0] ELFREDA. "LOOK YOU HERE ATHELWOLD BY AMELIE RIVES NEW YORK HARPER AND BROTHERS MDCCCXCIII J^&/! I know none. Ath. That were like as tho' St. Peter Should seek to prove the emptiness of hell By saying that he knew none of its inmates. Now, Edgar, as I live, 'tis my belief That Satan will intrust thy bed o' coals To some uncomely wench. There were no tort- ure Could subtler touch thee. £ L l Nay, Fll swear that's false. I am more racked when men do talk like maids 5 Therefore I am more tortured o' the instant. Give o'er this jest, my swordsman ; I would hear More o' this maid. Ath. Then it is safe to say This maid hears more of thee. Ed. 1 sa y> g' ve oer - Thou'st seen her ? Ath. Nay 5 nor tree nor blossom. Ed. Come, What is this foolery ? Ath. Why, 'tis to say, I have not seen the sire or the daughter. 6 EDGAR AND ATHELWOLD " Ed. Three men to-day have told me of her beauty. Atb. Three girls to - morrow will deny the statement. Ed. I will the more believe it in that case. I am afire with fancy, Athelwold ; In love with painted air. A patch of light Upon the floor doth mind me of the hue They say her locks are, and I can but think Upon the tender roundness of her arms When some such pretty arm doth woo mine eyes. Words are but gems for her adorning. Yea, IVe set her very motion to a tune. I hav't by heart — her look, her voice, her lips. They say her eyes are blue. All heaven's above To keep me from forgetting. Look you here. This is no uncrowned babble ; man and king Both speak in this : I tell thee, Athelwold, If she be fair as by report she shows, I'll make her Queen of England — Atb. What, my lord? — Ed. I say I'll make her Queen of England. Atb. Queen? Art thou in earnest ? Ed. Ay, I'll make her Queen ; Espouse her, crown her, seat her on my throne. But I must have a certain knowledge. Atb. What ! All this on sober Friday ? 7 Ed. Nay, I tell thee I am not jesting. Ath. Tell me that again. Ed. I say I am not jesting. Dost thou hear ? I am not jesting. If this maiden, sir, Be fair in truth as I do picture her, I swear by God's crown I will give her mine. Ath. To wear about her waist ? Ed. No, by my troth ! To give thee for a collar as her slave, An thou dost irk me further. Ath. Good my liege, This fact holds monstrous mirth or little reason. What hath so urged thee ? Ed. I am fancy-spurred 5 — In love with mine imagination ; meshed In webs of mine own weaving ; made a slave By chains of mine own hammering. Give ear, I would be certain. Ath. Well, my liege? Ed. I would Be certain, Athelwold. Ath. Why, send and learn. Ed. Ay, that's my purpose, and thou art the man. Ath. I, Edgar? Ed. Yea; who else? Ath. Thou wouldst send me A-wenching for thee ? 8 • Ed. What ! That word to me ? I told thee once — ■ Ath. Then thou must tell me twice. I say I will not do thy wenching for thee. Ed. Even Athelwold may speak too freely. Ath. And Even Edgar may require too much of friendship. Ed. Have I not said I wish her for my Queen? Is not all honorable ? What's amiss ? There's one condition only — shouldst thou find That she is not so comely as men say, Why, there's an end of it. Nor Queen nor leman Shall smile on Edgar with a flabby lip. Go to. What fire is in thee ? O' my word, Thou wouldst have been a colt to break! Go hang! " A-wenching for me ?" It was nobly said ! Now, by my crown, wert thou another — nay, Didst thou so much as look unlike thyself, Thou shouldst pay dearly for thy pride ! Ath. I pay More dear for thine, I tell thee, Edgar. Ed. Nay, Try me no more. Kings do not pardon twice On the same day. Vex me no further, sir. Thou art commissioned unto Devonshire To bring me word of Olgar's daughter. [Exit angrily.] Ath. So— Royalty is a whip to scourge the time. b 9 As man to man I like him ; as my King, He hath no parcel in me. This is well ; Ay, this is well indeed. I am commissioned To match a blue eye by a bit of heaven; To find if certain tresses match the sun ; If her throat be so white, her arms so smooth, Her motion delicate. If all these charms Make up a charming maiden. By the saints — Nay, by great Woden, Thor the Hammerer, Loki, and all the gods of stalwart days — It is enough to set my sword adance Within its scabbard. I his pander? Nay, Let him set Oswald tripping to this tune. I know but ill to foot such love-measures. Let him send Oswald — Oswald? — Oswald? — ah! Why, there's a thought ! [Enter Frothi, his dwarf. He comes up behind, and speaks softly.] Fro. And here's another, master, To keep it warm. Ath. How, Frothi ? Art thou there ? Fro. Ay, master, and this thought o 1 mine doth wait Upon thy thought, e'en as I wait on thee. Ath. Speak, boy. Fro. What, master ? In a palace ? Why, Know you not that to whisper of a king In his own house is to hand Death a weapon ? 10 •Ath. Well, dare him, then. I would this thought of thine. Fro. Master, it doth concern a wolf. Nay, master, Lower thine ear. It treateth of a wolf. Edgar hath rid all England of these wolves. Ath. Say'st thou that also? Fro. Nay, give ear — stoop down. I say the King hath rid us of these wolves — All saving one, who fled not with the rest To the Welsh hills. They call him Oswald, sir. Fll sing to thee a song which hath for theme His cunning and his treachery and his fangs. Ath. Say you ? Fro. Ay, master, but not here — not here. Ath. Why, then, without ; come on, boy. [Exeunt.] Scene 2. — Elfleda's Apartment in the Pal- ace. Elfleda and Oswald. Elfl. You say it works ? You speak a cer- tainty ? You watched them personally ? Marked his look ? Noted his manner? What said Athelwold? Did he agree straightway, or was there room For anger ? Was the King — Oszv. Peace ! peace ! peace ! peace ! I pray you, madam, softly. Here are questions ! I told thee that I walked apart with Sigebert ; 11 How should I watch them ? Sigebert, thou dost know, Holds Athelwold as dear as doth the King; Wouldst have the watcher watched ? Nay, but it works; It works. I'll stake my ears but it doth work. Elfl. An thou dost tell me false, I'll take thy ears To feed my deer-hound. Osiv. By my troth, then, madam, Thy dog shall never die digesting me. Success hath signs which the successful know. I tell thee, it will work. Elfl. But how of Athelwold? Hast reckoned of his coldness unto women ? His heart is iron. Os-iv. Madam, thou must know That iron heated is a fire itself. What if from passion's glow the after-plunge Into the icy waters of reflection Doth temper it to steel ? The work is done ; And, lady, not to give thee witting pain, This maiden, this Elfreda, is so fair That thy white self would pale beside her beauty As when a moon doth melt on mid-day skies. She seems made up of heavenly moods. Her brow Is fair as glimpses of the morning clouds. Her eyes like spaces where the blue doth gleam 12 Between them, and the sunset's after-glow Dies on her cheek. Thou dost no more com- pare — Sweet dame, forgive me, but thou dost no more Compare with this Elfreda, this slim maid, Than music silent doth to music sung. Elfl. If thine the singing, I were fairer, knave. Dost think to vex me by such mummery ? Go kindle Iceland. Go and blow the sea Into a tempest. Go and light thy torch At some near star. Osvv. Some falling star, mayhap. Elfl. Have care, have care ; if thou forget'st thyself, Forget not me and what I am, and what Thou mayest be. Osiv. Why, no. Thou art Elfleda, The quean of Edgar, not the Queen of Eng- land. Elfl. Dog! Os-zu. Then beware my teeth. Elfl. Now, as I live, But that thou hast more knowledge of this vent- ure, Td have those fangs of thine drawn out straight- way To make fool's music in a bladder. Look, sir, If thou dost fail in this, I will not fail In that I purpose for thy punishment. [Exit.] 13 Osw. Ay, 'twas well thought of; it was well conceived. This Athelwold — this rust upon my brightness, This pampered honey-gatherer of the King, This lion of the dandelion locks, The stealer of week-day kisses in a church, This bracelet -keeper, this dull-sworded swords- man, This well-beloved friend of Edgar. Why, Who else should go- on such an errand? Why, Who else could better choose this King a Queen? Here be a judge of noses ! Here be one To rightly test the sweetness of a mouth By tasting ; learn the smallness of a waist By measurement of arm ! Men long to love, Love quickest when 'tis time ; for all their lives They do adore some shadow, which, reality Resembling, doth outshine as mid-day sun Outshines the sparkelries that close - pressed thumbs Make on the inner lids. I know his bent, And, judging by the women he hath scorned, Can sure select the woman he will love. [Exit.] 14 ACT II Scene i. — A Country Road. [Enter Athelvvold and Frothi, on horse- back.] Atb. Is this the place ? Fro. I see no crooked tree, As they did tell us. Look, it should be here, Just by that barberry-bush. 4-th. We've lost the way. Plague on these rambling country roads, I say, Though they led on to heaven ! Boy, ride ahead. Stay, here's my horse ; take him, and tie him there — There, to that sapling. I will rest me here Upon this grass bank, whilst thou dost inquire The nearest way unto Lord Olgar's castle. Despatch, now, Quick- heels! Do not let me dream That thou art back, and wake to find thee ab- sent- [Exit Frothi.] Odds me ! I am aweary. This lush spot [Talking drowsily, as if falling asleep.] Wooes me to sleep. So. I will loll here at ease Until my boy returns. Now, if I dream, Let it not be of waking ,• yet to sleep Is but to be alive in spite of thee, *5 Defy thy reason, and do wondrous deeds, Such as to cast thy sword among the stars To loosen some for thine adorning, — ay, As when a boy casts billets at a tree To shake its apples earthward. Do I sleep, I pray I dream of apples, nothing wiser. Light dreams give heaviest sleep. But then, good sootli ! I never sleep in daytime. It is well To hear the summer humming of the fields, Like love-songs stifled in the cloak of sleep. Sleep, said I? — Sleep? — I — sleep — not — i' th' — day — [He sleeps.] [Enter Elfreda and her Woman.] Elf. So— Bertha? Ber. Madam ? Elf. (bending over Athelwold). Look you here ! Ber. (cautiously). Sweet saints ! It is a man ! Elf. A man ? Go to ! Say rather A god, who, venturing too near the sun, Slipped with the further glory to the earth. Look you what hair ! It is more bright than mine. Ber. No, madam. Elf. No? I tell you that it is. Give eyes ; Fll match it. 16 Ber. (fearfully). Pray you, madam — Elf. ■ What? Ber. Why, do not wake him ; do not walk so close. Elf. By Balder ! he doth look like Balder's self! His locks are spread like sunlight on the grass. Pah ! loose my sleeve, thou timorous flitter- mouse ! Ah ! ah ! — his eyes are blue 5 stoop, girl ; peep there ; See how they gleam between his near-closed lids, Like so much heaven-blue drowned in drops o' rain. I'll lay thee a new kirtle that his hair Is brighter. Ber. Nay, sweet lady ! Nay, come back. Elf Pshaw ! Wouldst thou sour me with this thundering Of fearful words ? Look, now ! Said I not so ? [Stoops and matches Athelwold's hair with one of her own tresses.] Thou'st lost the petticoat, but won my love By being witness to my judgment. Soft ! Step softer — what a voice your gown hath, girl ! Here be an arm to crack the ribs of War, Yet white out of all correspondence ! Come, I think 'tis whiter than mine own. Let's see. [Bares her arm, and compares it with Ath- elwold's.] c 17 Ber. Madam! — good mistress! Elf It doth not seem fair That all this looking should be on one side. How if I tickle him with a grass-blade ? Ber. Na Y> Come ! — come, for God's love ! It may be some demon In fair disguise. Elf Disguise so fair, good wench, Were far too tight a fit for wickedness. Pluck me that oxlip there. 2er. Oh, madam, tarry ! Be warned, be warned ! He may awake in like- ness Of some foul thing— a wolf, a bear, a dragon. Elf. Time then to fly. Give me the flower, wench. Ber. Oh, I will get me gone to cry for help ! [Exit Bertha.] Elf. (leaning over Athelwold with the oxlip.) Shall I first touch him on the lips or eyes ? His lips are nearest. Let me see (laughing). He wakes. No; sleep hath won him from me. Well, let be. 'Tis something, sooth ! to find such beauty quiet, That eyes may rest in looking. I will wait Content unseen to see. There ! then he stirred. Nay; still as ever. Why, methinks, in truth, Thou hast a very genius, sir, for sleeping, 18 While I've not even the small consolation Of thinking that I figure in thy dreams, Seeing thou dost not know me. What, again ! Thou dost grow restless. There ! more sound than ever ! I'll touch his eyes this time ; and now his lips ; And now, again, his eyes j and now (looking all about her) his lips ! [Kisses him.] Ath. (starting up on his elbow). How, boy ! Where is't ? The crooked tree. What's there ? I have been dreaming. (Sees Elfreda.) Soft, though, I still dream. What art thou ? Elf. (mysteriously). Thine imagination. Ath. Then Thou hast usurped my reason's office. Come ! Elf What wouldst thou ? Ath. I would pinch thee. Elf Pinch me ? Ath. Ay. Thou art so like substance that I'd think Myself a shadow ere thyself a dream. Elf (holding out her hand). Why, here, then. Kisses prove as much as pinches. Ath. So, lady (kisses her hand). Elf. Recollect, I am a dream. Ath. Yea, that shall be mine office when I wake. Meantime I'd prove thy other hand. [Kisses it.] Elf. Nay, sir, It was a jest. Thou art awake. Awake In Devonshire. Ath. That is to dream of love. Elf. Such dreams prove often nightmares. Ath. Wake me, then. Elf. I know not how. Ath. Show me some ugly mark — Some mole, some flaw, some lacking in thy beauty. ByV laykin, girl ! thou hast some witchery, Some charm. Dost walk with fern-seed in thy shoe ? Nay, heed me not. Here, take thy flowers and run ; I fear myself. How comes it woman eyes Look from thy baby face ? Furl thy white lids If thou wouldst have men recollect thy youth ; Thine eyes do lash the blood like whips of flame, And yet thy face is pure. It is some freak Of circumstance ; but hide thine eyes from men If thou wouldst keep thine honor. Nay, fear not; I mean no hurt to thee, but all in kindness. Thou shouldst less fear my harshness, pretty maid, Than most men's kindness. There ! run, run, I say ! Betwixt thee and my preaching there's no pulpit. Yet stay; I have a thought. 20 Elf. Canst not divide it? Ath. Nay ; 'tis too meagre for division. Elf. Well ? Ath. Or ill, I know not. Pretty lass, come here. Elf. Thou hast just bidden me begone. Ath. Ay, Ay. Elf. Shall I obey thy first or after speaking? Ath. (absently). Those eyes of thine are blue. Elf. Is there aught writ Against blue eyes ? Ath. Naught but what they may read. Elf. Thine eyes are blue. Ath. Look closer — they're not blue. Elf. (looking). Heaven is not blue if they're not. Ath. Well, thy way. Have thine own way. (Aside.) Were I to take this maiden Back unto Edgar, by my sword ! he'd wed her, If but to match her gold locks with a crown. Elf What dost thou speak ? Some charm ? Why, then Til run. [Pretending to go.] Ath. Nay, not so quick. Fve words for thee. Elf. Why, then, Keep them thyself. Such gifts I care not for. Ath. Gifts ? Dost thou care for baubles, lady- bird? Elf. As birds for cherries. Ath. (unbuckling a knot of precious stones from his hat feather). Here, then. Wilt thou have't ? Elf What for? Ath. A kiss. Elf. Nay, keep it. Ath. What ! so coy ? Thy veil is bolder. Elf. Nay ; it flies away. I'll follow. Ath. Soft : run not. Keep thy red lips Unto thy husband's kissing; I'll not rob him — Thy future lord — of one. Yet such were thieves More blessed in sin than virtue. Look you, girl, I'll kiss you spite o' perjury. Soft — soft — Talons, my dove ? [He holds her, and she feigns to struggle.] Elf. I'll bite thee for thy kiss ! Ath. Why, thou'rt a pretty griffin, claws and teeth ! Gently, my wild one — Elf. Ha ! thou durst not do it ! Ath. Thou durst not bite me. Elf. Thou durst not kiss me ! Ath. Why, so, then — so, then — so, then — (kiss- ing her. Elfreda feigns to weep). Nay, pale saints ! What have I done ? Weep not ! Weep not ! What devil 22 Am I possessed of? No more tears. Look up. Art thou a village lass ? Thy parents poor ? I'll give thee moneys — all thy kirtle full Of broad gold pieces. Pretty bird, weep not ! Look you, if kisses scarred, you well might weep. Why, if men's kisses left small spots o' green, Young maids would walk as verdant as the spring ! Give me thy name, and I will make it famous ; Ay, thou shalt have it writ above thy grave: " Here lies a maid who cried because, instead Of for a kiss — " Why, there, that's right ! Smile — smile ! Is thy home far ? An 'tis, thou shalt mount up And ride behind me. Come ! Elf. Nay, I must go, And as I came. Here, sir, take back thy jewel ; I'll none of it. Ath. Give me my kiss back, too. [Kisses her.] Elf. Out on thee ! [Runs out.] Ath. How she moves ! Her noble gait Matches her birth as little as her eyes. [Enter Frothi.] Heigho ! here comes the lad. What news, boy > Fro. Sir, Good news 5 we be but short ways from the castle. Ere sundown we can reach it. 23 Ath. Well, come on. Did see one running as thou rodest along? Fro. Ay, sir. As fair a Jane-of-Apes, in truth, As e'er I looked on — laughing as she ran. Ath. Laughing ? Fro. Ay, sir, and that with all her might. Her pretty bosom, working up and down, Did, like a bellows, blow the flame o' mirth Into her eyes. God's me ! she laughed, sir ! Ath. Laughed ? Fro. What's there in laughing? Ath. Naught but what we see. (To himself.) Well, laughing ! Well, the jade! Fro. What say'st thou, sir ? Ath. That we must hasten supperwards. Come on. [Exeunt.] Scene 2.- — A Room in Olgar's Castle, Elfre- da's Nurse sitting at her spinning. Nur. Whence got she these ungodly ways ? I know not. She hath been brought up at the knee o' Wisdom, As 'twere upon her milk. With such a mother — Lord ! Lord ! — I know not how it is — not I ! And yet she is so fair, the saucy hussy ! She'll turn me as I turn this wheel o' mine. I can naught with her. Still she'll jaunt the road In coarse attire, drest out in Bertha's kirtle. Well, well, I know not how to mend it. Heaven 24 Doth know I scold and scold, and pray and pray? To-day she hath set forth. I followed her j Besought her with much trick o' tongue and love That she would not set forth. Soft ! Let me hear. It is my lady. [Enter Bertha, breathless.] How ! thou margot pye ? What dost thou, and without my lady ? Ber. Nay, Word me not, goody. I have come for thee. My lady will be tarrying i' th 1 lane, A-tickling of a sleepy knight with flowers. Nur. Dost want my spindle, hussy ? What's this clack ? Wilt word me, then ? Knowest not to hold thy tongue ? My lady tarrying tickling in a lane ! Hold ! Here be she herself ! Hark how she laughs ! Methinks she hath been tickling of herself, Hey, ninny? Thou fat-witted tattler, thou ! [Elfreda enters and flings herself upon a settle, laughing and breathless.] How now, my lamb ? How now, my pretty one ? Thou'rt in fine feather. Elf. Am I so ? Oh, nurse, How thine old tongue will wag ! What eyes thoiflt make ! D 25 " He'll fill my kirtle up with broad gold pieces.'" Nay, let me laugh ! Fll ne'er be quits with mirth. Ho! Is't thou, Bertha? Fair good -morrow, Bertha. Get to the kitchen, girl. Be ofF, I say ! [Exit Bertha.] Now, nurse, take breath. Thou hast an hour before thee Of most fierce jaw-work. Nur. Wilt thou tease me, honey? Lord ! Lord ! but thou be hot ! A-running, lamb ? Let me disrobe thee ; let me fetch thy gown. These rags do shame thy station and my office. Elf Let be, let be, until I tell my tale. How thou wilt scold me ! And he thought I wept ! By all birds' wings that ever flew, good nurse, Freedom is sweet ! Wild maidenhood is sweet ! Saints ! he can kiss ! He hath the kissing cut. My blood ran up to meet his mouth. Speak, nurse : Was that a sin ? 'Ware how thou answerest, though, Lest I find sin more sweet than virtue. Ah, Wast thou e'er kissed, nurse ? Nur. (simpering). Time and time again. Elf. Is that the reason of thy lack o' lips ? Methinks 'twill take a merry thought o' time 26 '-/A KLFREDA AND HER NURSE To kiss my lips away. Look you, sweet nurse ; What of blue eyes? Hast thou some legend? Eyes That seem the condensation of all heaven. What's said of blue-eyed men ? Nur. A might o' things. Elf. Well, word it, word it ! What is said of them ? Nur. That doth depend upon the one that speaks. Elf. Go to ! I'll pinch thee. Look thee, nurse ; i' faith, Soberly, dainty nurse, is there no song, No elfin singing of these blue-eyed men ? Nur. Ay, ay, belike. Elf. Belike, sweet nurse ? Nur. Belike His daddy or his dam was blue-eyed too. Elf. Out on thee ! Wilt thou be in my dis- pleasure ? Nay, nay, I meant it not ; but jest no more. What o' blue eyes ? Nur. (tapping her chin thoughtfully). Let's see — let's see — let's see. They'd make a red nose look the redder. Elf. (pettishly). Oh, I hate thee ! Nur. (almost in tears). Well-a-day! Elf. (coaxingly). No ; now I love thee. 27 Be reasonable, though ; give me some comfort. Hadst thou a sweetheart ? Nur. Ay ; a was my husband. Elf. But thou hadst others ? Nur. Oh, Lord love you — yes ! Elf What was the color of thy sweetheart's eyes ? Nur. Black, honey. Elf Black? Nur. Ay, black as roasted corn When Bertha roasts it. A was known for's looks. Elf (in a wheedling tone). Mayhap they were dark blue, and so looked black. Nur, Black as two cinders fallen on a shift On washing-days. A had a fine white brow, White as thy linen when that I do wash it, And leave it not for Bertha to smutch o'er. Methinks there was not so much blue in them As would have striped a moth's wing. Elf Well, but nurse, Give me some story that thou know'st. Canst say If such be true or false ? Nur. Oh, false, I'll warrant ! Elf. Why, nurse ? Come, glibly, nurse ! Why wilt thou think it ? Nur. Why, all that's theirs of heaven is in their eyes. Thou'lt find it so. And look ye, lady-bird — 28 Elf. (absently and smiling). 'Twas so he called me. Nur. (furiously). Out upon him! Lout! Impudent lout! Could I but finger him! Elf. Now thou art silly. Nur. Nay, I am not, honey. Give ear, my cade lamb ; thou must not so freely — 'Tis sin to kiss for kissing. Elf. What for, then ? Nur. For love, heart. Dost thou heed ? Elf. I listen, goody, But come not at thy meaning. Nur. Thou must love The man, and not the lips that kiss thee only. Elf. (absently and half to herself). I know not. It was sweet. IVe thought on it Until it pierced me like a little flame From head to foot. Who comes ? [Enter Olgar.] Olg. (fondly). Thy father, wench. Look you, my mouse, who think you is below, And hungry ? Elf. My lord Ethelbert ? Not he ? Lewellyn, then ? Why, then — Olg. There — stay thy guessing. This is beyond thee. 'Tis none other, girl, Than Athelwold, the King's Thane — Athelwold, 29 The friend of Edgar, owner of much gold, Lord of the noblest fields in England, child. Come ! slough these dingy rags, my bright-eyed snake ; Trick thee in all thy best to welcome him. See you unto it, nurse. No dallying. Come, Trip it, my lass. This may mean all or nothing. [Exeunt omnes.] Scene 3. — A Hall in Olgar's Castle., [Enter Athelwold alone.] Ath. This venture doth hang heavily upon me. Edgar hath halved my love for him by this, And hath retained the worm-eaten portion. Yea, IVe shut mine eyes upon his tyranny, So long as me it touched not ; now, indeed, Its sharp and grasping fangs sink in my flesh. Fm vexed for being vexed. Knew he not oth- ers To do this thing for him ? Friendship hath laws More stern than kingdoms. I confess in full That I chafe at it. If the maid prove worthy, Fll yield this King my fealty and his Queen At the same time, make monk-pens of my castles, And swing a foreign sword in mine own cause. Yet he hath loved me. But he should not try me Unto this measure. 30 [Enter Olgar.] Olg. Sir, I crave thy patience. Thou shalt be served forthwith, in such short time As't takes a wench to put her gewgaws on. My daughter will attend us. But what news ? What news o' men and men's work ? Is all smooth ? And Oswald ? Goes he sleekly as of yore ? They say he hath high favor at the court And with the priesthood. Well, Til tell thee, sir, A priest ne'er set the fashion o' my liking. Why, look you, now, the man hath no more brawn ! Look you — mine arm. I am well gone in years, Yet could I twirl this Oswald as a branch, A last year's leaf! There's not enough of man In him to cast a shadow. Well, well, well ! Kings have strange whims. Kings' dreams have meanings. Well, I know not. But this Oswald. It doth maze me — I'll say as much to thee — but these strong men Do often hanker after weak ones. Ay, It is as though they liked the manners, sir, Of things that claim protection. How go wenches ? 31 Who's uppermost ? No Queen as yet, of course ? 'Twere well there were a Queen. Thou know'st the law Of marriage. It were well he took a wife, Say you ? That's well. Sir, I do bid you wel- come. My failing eyes have joy in you. Old age, Self-honoring, doth ever honor youth. Is it that hussy kitchen-wench Elfleda Who yet holds sway o'er Edgar? That Eh fleda ? Not, truly ! What ! so ? Well, well, who would think it ? Doth she not squint ? Well ! one shall hear such tales. 'Tis all men's business if a king's jade squints. Thou'lt tarry with us for a month or so ? Nay, now — no nays but mine. If thou couldst know The joy it gives me to hold speech with thee ! It makes mine own youth smell like spring re- turned. I tell thee, memory hath a ticklish way Of riding on a perfume. There's some scent Of horse and leather — nay, of grass and steel — Nay, but of — well, God wot! of something, boy, That makes my youth a presence i' the room. Come, yield thy promise. 32 [Enter Elfreda.] Ha, my lass, come hither. Give me thy supper-worth o' sweet persuasions. This is my daughter, sir ; and this, my pretty, Is that Lord Athelwold of whom thy nurse Hath no doubt put out fires with telling thee. Ath. (aside). Heaven fall on me if this be not in truth My Lady o' th 1 Lane! Elf. (aside). By all the saints! Sir Sleepy Eyes ! Now would to all above My lips had touched a red-hot searing-iron Ere they had wed with his! Olg. Come, word it, lass! La ! la ! Both stricken dumb ? What's with thee, girl ? Up with thy chin. 'Tis coyness overdone ; None can digest it. Why, my madam glib- tongue, What's come to thee? Elf. I have a dizziness. Olg. Sell't for a kiss (kissing her). So, lass — go lightly. Up, Up with thy head. A welcome for his lord= ship. Elf. Your lordship — you are — I am — that is, we — Are very welcome. E 33 Olg. (aside to Elfreda). Out ! Thou art bewitched ! There is some pixy lodging in thy wimple. Thou givest tongue no better than a house-dog. Why, out ! Where are thy wits ? (Aloud.) Fair sir, the lass Hath something that she calls a dizziness. 'Tis a new gift o' wilfulness. Well, well ; She'll tire of it anon. I'll leave ye, sir, That ye may find your tongues while I am ab- sent. Give ye good speed. Elf. Nay, father ! 0/cr Stay, my lord ! Why, what the saints, girl ! Pluck me not so, lass! This coat's an old coat, and doth need respect F th' handling. I do say that while ye chatter ril look unto the venison. jtb. Good, my lord! Thou makest way but for regret, since, truth, We value thee above thy venison. Elf A Y> Ay, father ; go not. Let me go ; thou know'st I have a knack with venison. q/p-_ Why, what's this ? (Aside.) Thou arrant baggage ! Thou wee- brained ouph ! Know you not 'tis a chance ye lose ? Moreover, 34 "BY ALL THE SAINTS !" Each chance o'erlooked is snapt up by the devil To weight the balances against us ! (Aloud.) Sir, Methinks I smell a smell o' burning meat. You know not how a hunter loves his game. I am more patient with my spitted venison Than e'er was Beelzebub with a roast o' priest- flesh. Nay, sir — 'tis burning. Naught can hold me! Ha ! [Rushes out.] Ath. (impetuously). Madam, upon my knees I crave your pardon. Say but the word, and I am gone o' th' instant, Without excuse or farewell. Elf. Nay — my father — Thou owest him a deference. Ath. Did he know, His henchman would compel me from his gates. Elf. (archly). Would'st have me, sir, usurp his henchman's office ? Ath. Lady, I swear to thee that mine offence Was ignorant ; and yet, could I undo it, Sooner I'd leave thee now than have that kiss Melt from my memory's lips. Elf Sir, you forget. Ath. Nay ; I remember. If thou dost for- give, Let me but touch thy hand in token of it. Elf They say we should forgive. Ath. Thou art a saint ! Elf. No, by my womanhood ! Ath. Then thou art more. For, by my manhood, thou'rt the very crown And top of womanhood ! (Aside.) What do I say? Ha ! Loyalty, thou hast outgrown thy dress. Let me remember how I stand in this. (In a cold voice.) Madam, I am beholden to thee in all. Command me. Elf. (aside). Here's a sudden frost ! But now He was afire where all is present ice. (Aloud.) I thank thee, gentleman. Here is my father. [Enter Olgar.] Olg. So ! Have ye found your tongues ? So ! Athelwold, Hath she unbended ? 'Tis a pretty sight To watch a maid unbend from coyness. Ay, 'Tis like a young branch springing up again From its plucked weight of fruit. Well, well. I see, I see how 'tis. Come, lead her, Athelwold. Thy hand, lass. Come, my venison would al- lure A ghost to gluttony. Come on, come on. [Exeunt.] 36 [Enter Frothi.] Fro. I like not this — I like not that maid's eyes. And it was she who ran and laughed to-day. Oh, ay ! Though she were thicker sewn with gems Than a white beach with pebbles, I would know her. She is too beautiful ; and there's a devil But half drowned in her eyes. I like it not. She hath a way with her it hath ta'en my lord ; She 'th come upon his judgment from the rear, And killed his reason with her poniard eyes. Ay, ay, I've word of her. I know all England Gapes at her beauty. Well, if she were true — But truth to one is falseness to another. What of the King ? I would I knew her bent. Here comes her woman ; I will talk with her. [Enter Bertha.] Ber. La, sir, is't thou ? Fro. Sweet murderess, none other. Ber. How ? Murderess ! Be these court man- ners ? Murderess ? Fro. Why, hast thou not killed Melancholy by thine approach ? By my troth, the rogue hath a fairer death than he deserves. Ber. La, sir ! I've heard tell of how you court 37 gallants will talk and talk, and ne'er a meaning at the bottom o' a hundred words. Fro. And have they also told thee how we may- mean and mean, and ne'er a word atop o all this meaning ? Ha ? Ber. La, sir ! What wilt thou be staring at ? Fro. Thou hast a look o' thy mistress. O' my word, a copy in brown o' a monstrous fair painting. Ber. (simpering). They do say I have her walk. Fro. And her eyes to an eyelash. Ber. (simpering more than ever). I have thought it. Fro. Do we agree thus early ? Sweet omen ! But, being so alike in outward seeming, methinks thy souls should resemble also. Are thy invisible selves well matched ? Ber. Not to be vain, sir, I do think, sir, as how my temper be the smoother, sir. My lady will have her tirrets. Fro. Ay, thine eyes are milder, now that I look again. Hath thy lady many lovers ? Ber. Ay, sir, to the number that the forest hath birds • but they will all be a-singing o' th' same tune. Fro. And the lady? Ber. Why, she hath had mighty love for some fourscore and ten, but bath repented her at the church door. 38 Fro. And the gallants ? Ber. Do still be for sighing and wooing. Fro. Hang me, if I would not be all for curs- ing and swearing! As soon would I tarry a maid's second scorning as stay for a wolf to bite me twice. Ber. Ay, sir, but my lady hath a strange some- thing i th' very curl o 1 her eyelashes. Some say it doth not proceed from heaven ; but I know not. She hath had more wooing and less winning than any lady in all England. Oft will she say to me, " Look ye, Bertha ; marriage is not for me, nor I for marriage, lest it do mightily better mine es- tate." And methinks a marriage so to do would needs be with the King himself. Fro. To wed a king is to better lowliness at the cost o' peace. Well, well. Thou hast a plump arm. I suspect thee o 1 one other resem- blance to thy mistress. Ber. How, sir ? Fro. Why, i' th' matter o' wooers. Ha ! wilt thou be hanging thy head ? Ber. La, sir ! I will have great needs o' hear- say to keep me discreet. But thy supper, sir, I 1 fecks, I was sent to bid thee to supper. How hast thou twisted me! Fro. An thou'll twist me thy lips for a kiss, Til ask no more. Come on ! Come on ! I do hun- ger equally for kisses and for venison. [Exeunt.] 39 ACT III Scene i. — A Hall in Olgar's Castle. [Enter Frothi.] Fro. All goes as I did fear. He hath the fever; She in her golden web of tresses sits Like some bright spider, and the mesh hath snared Him and his honor. It is now two moons Since he did ride from Edgar on this quest ; The King must wax impatient. Oswald's there To urge him with Suspicion's venomed spurs. Ah, my dear lord, there is some spell upon thee. Would I could break it ! Lo, they come to- gether ! Always together now ! Morn, noon, and night. May God take this into his moulding grasp ! [Exit.] [Enter Elfreda and Athelwold.] Elf. (casting herself down). Sing to me, Ath- elwold. Ath. Nay, give me grace, I'm not in singing temper. All's awry. I'd make thee but harsh, jangling music, lady. Elf. Why, talk, then. Ath. On what subject ? 40 Elf. Of thyself; That doth less tire me than all other topics. Of thy fair self, thy battles and thy voyages ; Thy exploits, ventures, both by land and sea ; Of all thy past, thy hatreds and thy loves. Ath. My greatest hatred hath been hating Love. (Aside.) How hath he ta'en revenge upon me ! Elf. What? Didst thou say something to thy shoulder ? Love ? Why hast thou hated Love ? Methinks Heaven formed thee To be Love's champion. Ath. Not I — not I. Elf. I say it. Dost thou hear ? And I will say it, Though thou dost turn from love to hating me. Ath. It were as one. Elf. Why, what a ravelled mood ! Thy humors 1 threads are frayed beyond all pa- tience. Look, sir — this apple — wilt thou share it with me ? Ath. Nay, nay. Have done with such cool wantonings. Eat not ; it vexes me. Elf. Why, what will please thee ? Ath. Thy lips ! F 41 Elf My lord ? Ath. I say thy lips will please me. Wilt yield them ? Elf. Athelwold ! Ath. Ay, feign, feign, feign. Thou couldst feign purity on moonlight nights. Elf. Wilt thou insult me ? Ath. Ah ! have done with feigning. Give me thy lips — I will not feign to kiss them. Elf. How dost thou mean — I feign ? Ath. Why, that thou lovest me ! Think'st thou I know not how thou laughest, madam, When I am turned ? Thou hast the knack 6" laughing— And with thy maid-servant. Elf. I laugh at thee ? With Bertha ? Athelwold ! Ath. Well, didst thou not ! Come, no more feigning. Elf. (passionately). If I love thee not, Let thy sword kiss my heart as it were wanton. Come, sir ! — thy steel ! My heart's a baggage — come ! No kiss should shame it ! Come ! — thy sword — thy sword ! Oh, I had never thought to tell thee of it! Nay, let me go, Ath. I will not let thee go. 42 Ay ! this is fate. Why move a finger ? Soft, Softly, my falcon! Oh, my pretty one! Thou knowest not what thou dost. There, go — go— go ! Elf. Why wilt thou hide thy face? Why must I go ? Dost thou believe me ? Hath not my remaining To bear thy scorn proved that I love thee ? Look! I love thee. Ath. Nay, I must not look. Away ! Lay not thy hand on me. Wilt thou be gone ? Nay, nay ; I meant it not. Let me look once, But once, and then — Thine eyes ! thine eyes ! thine eyes ! Ah, they are full of poison to the brim ! Drink, Honor — drink and die ! How thou dost look! Elf. (breathing hurriedly). And thou! — how thou dost eat mine eyes with thine ! Ath. Is thy soul in them ? Elf. Ay ; and my heart, too. Ath. Then let me eat them also. There's no way But that to happiness. Elf. But what ? Ath. To yield Both heart and soul as bribe unto grim Fate. There is no morsel that she dearer loves 43 Than a big heart served up with honor cold. Lookup. No faltering. God's eyes for thine ! They could make heaven of hell without a God. Say that thou lovest me. Elf. I love thee. Ath. Ah! Again. Elf. I love thee. Ath. Now again — with eyes, With lips, with arms, with body. Come, once more ! Well say't together — so — (Both.) I love thee! God! Thou'rt mine. I swear it by His vain -taken name. Mine and none other's. Mine for life, for death. Look you — did I die first, to find you false, My burning ghost would knaw unto your mar- row. Elf. Ah, thou dost hurt me ! Ath. Didst thou heed me ? Come, Kiss me again. When shall we wed? Elf. To-morrow ? Ath. To-night. Elf To-night, then. At what dost thou look ? Ath. (gazing beyond her, but still embracing her). Even at departing Loyalty. 44 Elf. (following the direction of his eyes). Who's there That hath so strange a name? I cannot see him. Is it some beggar ? Ath. Ay ; he begs for grace. Elf Thou'rt mocking. Ath. Shall I let Dame Fate outmock me ? Elf. Look not so far away. Dive in mine eyes. Ath. What's at the bottom ? Gold ? Elf If love be gold. Ath. Nay ; dross — when love doth die it turns to dross, As men to rottenness. Elf What words are these ? Come, I will close thy lips (striving to coax him). Ath. (still holding her off). Close Conscience' lips. I care not how I prate, so he be silent. Elf. Thou hast strange fancies. Ath. (coldly). Canst thou come at them ? Elf. Nay, sir. Nor at thy love. I see it all. Thou hast beguiled an hour with mockery. I will be gone, sir, as thou didst desire. Ath. Elfreda! Elf Oh, what pain is in thy voice ! Hast thou some wound I know not of? Ath - Ay, child. 45 Elf. Oh, let me dress it. Let me comfort thee. Death's in thy face. Ath. No, sweetheart ; in my heart. Well, well — have done. Weep not. Come closer — come. Kiss me. Thine arms. Pain is the only coin Joy doth acknowledge. Never ask to know More than thou knowest, save to-morrow, dear, When love hath grown like flowers i' th' night. Come, let me feel thee. [Exeunt.] [Enter Oswald.] Ostu. It works ! It works ! My brew doth work in truth. We'll have a goodly quaffing by the horns Of the new moon! 'Twere worth a longer jour- ney To hear a shorter tale — that 'twere. God's me ! Had I as many bones as hath a graveyard, I'd count it but as justness did all ache Together, an I rode to such a knowledge ! Ah ! here he comes again — alone. Fair dreams, Fair lord, I have thee in my prayers. Soft — soft ! I must move softly. I will back o' th' instant Unto my jealous mock-queen with this news. [Exit.] 46 [Enter Athelwold.] Atb. Is this to be alive ? Is this to love ? Would I were dead with hating life and love ! How came this on me ? — on me — Athelwold — Who have but used love's name to tickle mirth Or lay a wager ? O thou monstrous glutton, That feed'st on honor, pride, truth, fealty, all Of God in man ! Shall men still call thee love, Mocking that god whose name thou hast usurped ? What is to love ? Is't to outlive all peace, And know thyself a coward to the core ? Oh, then, Hate's gentle ; Hate is honest ; Hate Hath been untimely born and missed his name. Hate should be Love — Love, Hate ; yet they are twins ; For, loving one thing, we do hate another, Perhaps a better. Who would live to face Forsaken duty, look upon dead pride, And share Fame's mantle with Dishonor ? Nay, Let me fight naked at the gates of hell With full-armed Sin, ere I do fall so low! I will be gone — I will be quit of this. Frothi, my horse! Frothi, I say, my horse! And yet — her eyes ! Here's manhood ! here is valor ! Here is a king's friend worthy of a king ! And yet her eyes — her eyes — her eyes — her eyes — 47 They are two flames — they've burned all good in me. Even them I do but love with a charred soul, The cinder of a soul — a star gone out. Had he not been a tyrant — Well, 'tis sure He hath but his deserts in all of this — In all of this he hath but his deserts. And yet so kind a friend, so just a king! Ay, conscience, speak ! Arise from the dead past ; Howl in mine ears ere I be deaf with wishing. Oh, Edgar, Edgar ! [Enter Elfreda.] Elf. My lord, thy wound again ? Pray thee be wise. Why didst thou leave me ? Come, here is my kerchief; Wilt thou not be advised ? Ath. Ay, by my soul ; But wisdom is above me. Elf How ? Ath. In heaven. Look thou : how much may women lack in honor Ere they confess themselves dishonorable ? Elf. I know not. Ath. Verily I know not either. Elf. Is this a jest? Ath. I'd swear to it in the dark. Give me thine eyes. I think thou lovest me. 48 Elf. Thou knowest it. Ath. How many other men Have shared these honors with me ? Art thou honest ? Elf. My lord, thou knowest that I am. Ath. Ay, ay — Look to it, then — see that I'm not deceived. I am a man gone deep in recklessness, And thee the rising flood may also drown. Swear to thy truth. Elf. I am afraid. Ath. Of me, Or of the truth ? Come, swear. Elf. What — that I love thee ? Ath. Ay, swear it. Elf. I do swear by all the saints I love thee — love thee. Oh, for sweet love's sake, Look not so harshly on me. Have I vexed thee ? Ath. Not so. Weep not — I love thee ; but be true — Be true. I will forgive thee anything So thou be true. Weep not. Dost thou not know Men's minds to men are riddles ? How shalt thou, A tender maiden, think to read my soul ? It were but grewsome reading, trust me, sweet. Still do we hanker for what's past our ken, Walking with open eyes against the dark. How wouldst thou like to be a queen ? G 49 Elf. A queen ? Ath. Ay, sweetheart. How if I were King of England ? How then ? Wouldst love me more ? Elf. Nay ; but a queen — I would in truth that thou couldst be a king ! Ath. Ha ! dost thou ? Wherefore ? Elf. Why, I would be queen. That is, I think so. Wouldst not make me queen ? Think o me in a crown ! Why, I could stare An emperor to slavedom ! Ath. Softly. Elf. Why, I'd be a queen o' queens. Nothing should daunt me. r faith, Fd be familiar with my sceptre As nurse with walking-staff, and wear my crown As 'twere a sunbeam fallen on my head, So lightly would I wear it. Would, in truth, Thou wert a king ! Ath. I see that, spite o' words, Thoudst love me more. Elf. Nay ; but to be a queen ! Why didst thou think it ? Ath. Probably, my sweet, Because thou look'st like one. Elf. Thou art the prince C flatterers, if not the King of England ! Do I look so, in truth ? 5o Ath. Thou dost indeed. Where is thy father ? Elf. Wouldst thou speak with him ? I'll call him. Ath. Do so, sweeting — stay for this (kisses her). [Exit Elfreda.] What devil set me to't ? What fiend of speech Possessed me that I named the King to her ? Accursed Fate, how dost thou scoff at me ! Yet, I was sometime honored of myself Ere that the god -spark was with self extin- guished, Quenched by the rising flood of passions furi- ous, O'er which its guiding light made clear the way. Now all is dark. I know not on what rock This life of mine will split. [Enter Olgar.] Ah, dear my lord, Can I have word with thee ? Olg. Ay, that thou canst. What is it ? No evil news from court ? Ath. My lord, I love thy daughter, and would wed with her. Olg. Well come at! Roundly spoken ! Thou dost know how to approach a difficulty's quills ; how to settle this porcupine conjecture. Stanch- ly said. Thou hast gone up in my estimation ; 5i like a high tide on the face of a rock, thou hast left thy mark. Am I first in this matter ? Ath. The Lady Elfreda knows that beyond limits I do lo\ r e her. Olg. Well, then— well, then — well, then. Ath. I would have thy permission to wed with her. Olg. As thou hast said. Well ? Aih. And shortly. Olg. That, too. Well? Ath. Naught remains but that I kneel to thank thee and receive thy blessing. Olg. I know thou wilt make a good hus- band. Ath. In what respect, my lord ? Olg. Why, thou art brave enough to keep thy wife gentle, and gentle enough to teach her to be brave. Thou art not selfish, as I have no- ticed by thy sittings i t\\ sun (when ye twain have shared the seat beneath the pear-tree), that she might have greater shadow. That thou dost fear God is written on thy brow ; and that thou dost love the lass is written in thine eyes. More- over, by the cleanness o 1 the latter I do know that thou hast ne'er been given to much wine- bibbing or lolling wi' women. Therefore I do tell thee again that my daughter is thine when thou shalt claim her, and that my good-will was thine ere thou didst ask for it. Go to ! go to ! 52 No words. Thou may'st treat me to a deed or two by-and-by. [Exit Olgar.] Ath. His blessing on my falseness. Well, let be. It is a creed more easy than 'tis easing. Oh, how a treachery to any one Doth fill the heart, crowding all pleasures out ! And I must face him ; I must meet his eyes ; Nay, I must lie to him. O yesterday, Fd purchase thee with all my life's to-morrows ! [Exit.] Scene 2. — A Room. Elfreda and her Nurse. Elf. But I do love him, nurse. Thou dost not know How I do love him ! Nut: Tell me of it, then. Elf. How can I tell thee ? Thou hast loved ; tell me, How didst thou love ? Didst thou send sleep away That thou might'st recollect his kisses, nurse, When it was dark ? Didst thou e'er kiss thy arm That he had kissed it ? Didst thou love his doublet — The very manner of his shoulder-cloak — His sword — his dagger — ay, his shoes — his hat? 53 Didst thou so love thy love ? Come, tell me, nurse. Nur. I think 'twas different. I did wash his clothes, Where thou hadst loved them. Elf. Oh, thy dusty mind ! Years crumbling over thee have smirched thy fancy To one pale blur. Canst thou not talk of love As I would hear thee ? Come ! how did he kiss thee ? Loudly, I'll warrant. Nur. Ay, a smacked me well ; A was no kiss-slicer ; a gave 'em whole. Elf Go to ! A kiss should sound no more, good nurse, Than when two clouds do melt into each other, So melt dear loving lips in kissing, nurse. There's more of art than instinct in this kissing. Be sure o' that. Nur. La ! where dost get such wisdom ? Elf. Out of the darkness when my mind is light. Thou ne'er shalt see so plain the unseen world As when the actual world is sunless, nurse. Nurse, wilt thou weep when I am wedded ? Nur. Nay — To bring my lamb ill luck ? Not I ! Elf " Why, then, What wilt thou ? Wilt thou laugh ? 54 Nur. Nor laugh, my lamb. That were unseemly as to weep. Content thee, I'll bear me decently. Elf. Nurse, what wouldst say Were he a king ? Nur. La! how thou babblest, honey ! Elf. But think — Fd be a queen ! Now as I speak I feel my crown's sharp gold upon my head. To be a queen ! — the Queen of" England — ha ! To have Death for my henchman. Listen, nurse, Did any so much as offend e'en thee, I'd straightway proffer thee his stupid head For ball to wind thy yarn on ! Nur. Bloody talk ! Cease, honey, cease ; I like not such wild talk. Elf. Ay, but to be a queen ! Nur. Why, go to, heart ! Thou'rt different. What's thy mood ? Elf. Why, all for power. O that I were the hewer of my fate ! Then should be constellations born for me — Well, well, but I do love him. Nur. There, that's well 5 Let kings and queens alone, and talk of love. Elf. Yet one might love a king. Hark ! I am called. [Rushes out.] Nur. Ah, well-a-day ! I dread these clashing moods. 55 Scene 3. — Athelwold leaning at a table; Frothi at his side. Ath. Sing, boy ! give out that voice of thine, which is as strange a thing in thy short body as would be a great thought in a little mind. A light song, neither of war nor of love. Canst thou sing such ? Fro. Ay, master ; there be a song o a gnat, Which is in great favor with the cockchafers. So: " Ho ! gnat on a thistle-puff, whither away ? Where to, little fay ? I am off to the East, where the God of the Day Still slumbers, they say. But what will you do for to eat and to drink Over there, Imp o Ink ? Why, Balder's red blood, I will drink it like wine, Mistress mine, And the syllabub clouds that the elfins do spatter On heaven's blue platter, I will breakfast on them. But anon I must fly, So good-luck, so good-bye, To thee and to thine, Mistress mine !" 56 Ath. Well sung, gnat on a thistle-puff; I say well sung, Imp o 1 Ink. When wrotest that ode to thyself, Sir Gleeman ? Fro. Master, it hath been told how that an elf o' light wrote that with his finger in the dust on a grass-blade. Ath. Away with thee! Here comes the Lady — Fro. How, master ? The lady i' th' song ? Ath. No, poppet 5 the Lady Elfreda. And 'ware lest thy skin suffer for thy soul's good. Off with thee. [Exit Frothi.] [Enter Elfreda.] Sweet one, thou art most welcome. Elf. Ay, my lord ? Ath. Ay, for I would a long half-hour with thee Of farewell kisses. Elf. How ! Farewell ? Ath. Ev'n so. I must without delay entreat the King To give permission for our marriage. Elf. Nay, Go not to-day — to-morrow. Wilt thou go ? Ath. I must, my sweet. And wilt thou miss me, then ? Elf I'll take some drug, and sleep till thou art back. Why must thou go ? H 57 Ath. It is a courtesy I owe my King. Tempt me no more, fair blos- som. One kiss ; one more. Oh, all that's sweet in spring Lives in thy breath! I would thou wert my wife, To go with me. Elf. Oh, would I were, beloved ! Leave me thy glove, one which thy hand hath shaped ; I'll think thy hand is in it when 'tis dark. Would thou hadst gone and come ! How many days Divide us from our day of days ? Ath. But two. I'll founder twenty horses, dear, my love, Ere I will disappoint thee. Elf. Oh, make haste ; And let me have a lock of thy sweet hair To weave into my wedding gown. Is't yes ? Ath. Why, thou shalt clip me bare as any monk, If 't pleasure thee. And thou dost love me ? Elf. Ay, Out of all order. I am mad o' love, My warrior, my lord, my husband — king. Ath. (violently, almost fiercely). Not that! Elf. How thou didst startle me ! Not what ? Thou wert so rough. 53 Ath. Not that, not that, I say. Dost hear ? Not that. Elf. Tell me of what thou speakest. Ath. Why, of that word thou call'st me. Elf Warrior ? Ath. No, no ; thou knowest. Trifle not. Thou knowest That last name thou didst call me. So, so, so. Kiss me, forgive me, heed me not. Once more Thine arms about my neck ; once more ; once more. Give me thy troth again. Swear thou'lt be true. Elf. I swear it. Ath. It is written. Recollect It is recorded. Now for all — farewell. [Exit.] Elf. Why should he tremble when I call him king ? There's something here beyond me. Let me see. I'll put it by ; I will not think on it. I'm glad his kisses stir me. Why, T faith, Should that one word so harry him ? Well, well! He hath the sweetest eyes ! So deep a blue Should almost dye his tears. The sweetest lips ! He would be perfect if he were — a king. 59 ACT IV Scene i. — A Room in the Palace. Edgar seated moodily. Elfleda at his feet. Elfl. Sire, shall I sing to thee ? Ed. (mutteringly to himself). There hath been time To woo ten maidens since he left me. Nay, Nay, not a note. Thou'rt worse to chirp than birds At mating- time. (To himself.) He hath been wounded, sure — Some dire mischance hath fallen, or perhaps He thinks to pay me for my humor. Well, We'll see. Elfl. I have a song of battle, sire, Wherein words roar along the winding lines As horsemen pelt along a smoking road. I've never sung it. Ed. Ay, then, never do ! Wilt let me be? (To himself.) One day o' grace, and then — Then — an he comes not — when he comes — Elfl. (coaxingly). Go to ! I know thou'dst have me sing. Ed. I'll have thee prisoned An thou dost further irk me. Go! thy jewels! 60 Go bind thy hair ! Go tang thy bracelets ! Go ! Do anything save speak to me again ! (To himself.) 'Tis in my mind that he will come to-day ; I dreamt of him last night. [Angrily to Elfleda, who fingers his robe.] What ! dost thou pluck me ? Away ! Elfl. There is a sound of horses' hoofs — Ed. Where, linnet, where ? Elfl. Why, in my unsung song. Ed. Have at thee ! [Throws one of his bracelets at her.] There — take that, and get thee gone ! Elfl. (haughtily and with anger). Hurled fa- vors are more vile than proffered slights. Keep thou thy gold — I'll keep my dignity. [Exit.] Ed. (looking after her, musingly). There's some- thing in the jade preserves my liking, Yet she doth try me. Now, an he come not To-morrow — Let me see — 'twill be two moons, And this one's far awane. Now let me see! [Enter Oswald.] Ha! Oswald. Osiv. Sire, thy recreant knight is come! He doth but stay to freshen his attire Ere he doth wait upon your Majesty. 61 Ed. Bid him come hither as he is. Stay, Os- wald. How looks he ? Os-w. Why, not as your Majesty ! _ His brow is smooth, his eyes are lined with smiles, He doth comport him blithely. Ed. Yea? Osw. Even s °- As though his thoughts fed sweetly on a past Known only to himself. £d_ Thou never likedst him ! Osxv. Oh, him, my lord, himself I always liked. It was his manner unto thee that galled me. Ed. Well, go, and bid him hither. [Exit Oswald.] O 1 my word, The priest in him hath murdered a good knight. But he did e'er hate Athelwold. Ay, ay, For all he saith not, it is plain as drinking. [Enter Athelwold.] Ah, friend, good greeting. Why, thou'rt some- what pale! How's this ? Thy brow is drawn. I have been told Thou wert in different temper ? Atb. A y 3 m y lie § e ? 62 Ed. Nay, no " my lieges " — none o' that. Come on, Give me thy hands, and draw that inner veil Which doth o'erhang thine eyes. What news ? Ath. Indeed, Such news hath been a heavy weight to carry. Ed. How ! Heavy ? Ath. Ay ! Ed. In what way ? Is she dead ? Ath. No ; that were better. Ed. Better ? Ath. (with a sudden effort). Ay! Know, Ed- gar, That this so vaunted paragon of beauty Hath nothing but her father's lands and state To cry her fair. Ed. Is she not beautiful ? Ath. No, as I live ! A little, pale-faced girl. Whose gold doth bless her purse and not her head. Ed. Not beautiful ? Ath. Not so much beauty, sire, As would make full the pocket of thine eye. Ed. That's strange — that's very strange ! Not beautiful ? Ath. All that is hers of beauty, sire, could hide Beneath a freckle. Ed. Not a fair shape, even ? Ath. A church tower hath more roundness. 63 £j t What ! in all — In all uncomely ? Atb. Ay, to the very quirking of her eyebrows. Ed. How by report some women do seem beauties, Whose grandmothers, perhaps, were fairly nosed! Ath. A woman's fair according to her gold. Ed. (anxiously). Thou'rt sure thou saw'st her? None was palmed on thee ? Women are apt contenders in such games. Atb. It was the lady's self I saw. gj_ Thou'rt sure ? How art thou certain ? By what didst thou know ? Ath. By certain marks report had given her — A mole that kissed her upper lip ; a vein That spilt its tender blue upon her eyelid As though the cunning hand that dyed her eyes Had slipped for joy of its own work. Ed. (suspiciously). For joy ? Atb. Did I say joy? Ed. Ay. jfa It was scorn I meant. Ed. Well, on. Ath. She hath such little spots of white Upon her finger-nails as foam doth leave On stranded shells. Ed. (more suspiciously). That sounds not so uncomely. 64 Ath. Thou shouldst but see it ! Ed. Well, go on. Ath. And last— Upon her shoulder is a tiny redness Which could be compassed by the pretty circles That paint a moth's wing. Such a mark as though Nature, completing all, had laid a kiss Upon her perfect work. Ed. (furiously). Dost dare to mock me ? Ath. Mock thee ? Ed. Ay, mock me. Dost thou dare to do it ? Ath. I do not mock thee. Ed. Then what didst thou mean When thou didst say " upon her perfect work ?" Ath. Oh, 'twas in mockery, but not of thee. Ed. Of what then ? Ath. (with an effort). Of the one I did de- scribe. Ed. (sullenly). Jests with my humor do as ill accord As gay-hued flowers with the dead. I wonder That thou hast ta'en that turn with me to-day, Of all days. Ath. I will jest no more. Ed. (in part appeased). Thou'rt wise Above most jesters, who will seldom stop Until that anger trips their heels. But speak ; How earnest thou so to lag ? 1 65 Atb. I fell asleep While riding slowly — a dear trick o' mine — And also from my horse, thus broke my leg, Which same is yet an enemy to speed. Ed. (suspiciously). Hum ! Ath. Didst thou speak ? Ed. (controlling himself). But inwardly. dtb' In truth, Would thou hadst gone thyself. Ed. For why ? Ath. For that Thou mightst have been thyself's own disap- pointer. It was a sorry office, Edgar — ay, From first to last, and makes me hug my sins To know Heaven cannot honor me with er- rands ! Ed. (somewhat ashamed of his doubts). Tut ! I am not ungrate fid. Ath. Then methinks Ingratitude hath been baptized again Since my departure. Give his latest name. What! I do go on this soul-irking mission, Ride day and night, endure in divers ways, Haste back in spite o' pain and storms, and then Am suppered on a frown ? Oh, it is well ! Most well, most princely ! Ed. (suddenly coming forward). Tut ! I'll bear with thee. 66 Let's make a duty of forgetting. More ! Report is killed, and stuffed with his own lies. We'll roast him at the fire o' friendship. Come! [Exeunt.] [Enter Sigebert and Frothi.] Sig. She's uncomely, you say ? Fro. As what's left o' my great-grandam. Sig. Why, how, then, came all these reports of her beauty ? Fro. Along the great highway where the Le- vite, Falsehood, doth pass Truth by on the other side. She hath moneys. Gold is a specific for the removal o' homeliness. For each gold piece a maid getteth there doth disappear a freckle. Four hundred marks will make a Grecian nose out o' a pig's snout. Thou wilt find that a big mouth doth shrink with wealth, like a doublet with washing. Thou shalt find old age double on herself like a hare, do thou but line her warren with gold. Sig. But it is so generally accredited. There is no man in England but hath heard of it. Tis the fifth gospel. Be serious. The lady is plain? Fro. As thine own nose. Sig. Go to ! Is she cramped in stature ? Fro. Thou wouldst take me for a giant an we walked together. Yet she is so tricked out in an elaborate ugliness that, cut in simple fash- 67 ion, 'twould amply gown a hundred fair -sized women. Sig. I cannot get it from my head that there hath been foul play. Fro. Then get it by thy heart that there hath not. Sig. Thou sawest her ? Fro. Why, she was the pattern whereby my dreams were cut for a sennight, and every night would I wake the scullion at my bed's foot with crying out to be saved from torment. Sig. Still, I like it not. Fro. Thou wouldst like it less didst thou see her. Sig. I see by the roving i' thine eyes that thou art hungry. Come, and we will crack a quart of ale and this problem together. Fro. I'm with you. [Exeunt.] [Enter Athelwold.] Atb. I cannot bear his eyes. I'll tell him all, From start to finish. He shall go with me Into the very byways of my sin. Yea, by great God, though I do lose his friend- ship, ril be friends with myself — not one hour more Will I endure mine own soul's scorning. Yet, To lose her were to lose the way to heaven. Heaven ? What is heaven but a priestly bait To lure us to their ends, when that hell's whip Doth fail to lash us to 'em ? Ay, again — And who hath not some unpronounced charm That would make swing the opposite poles of life And fasten heaven on hell's foundation ? Out! What am I who doth rail against the fate That binds mankind ? The atom of an atom, Particle of this particle the earth, That with its million kindred worlds doth spin Like motes within the universal light. What if I sin — am lost — do crack my life Against the gateless walls of Fate's decree ? Is the world fouler for a gnat's corpse ? Nay — The ocean — is it shallower for the drop It leaves upon a blade of grass ? And yet To meet his eyes — to feel his hand — to listen Unto his words of trust — O God ! O God ! I walk unworthily the red-hot ploughshares, And am unto my spirit's marrow scorched ! [Enter Oswald.] Os> ... i -sa hi "DOST thou speak to me? what HAVE I DONE ?" Ere he was cast from heaven ? What done ? — what done ? No, no ; I am not yet a beast in all. My heart hath split with this. Elf. Nay, Athelwold, How could I know thou spokest of thyself? Ath. Thou shouldst have felt it. Oh, hadst thou e'er loved me, My face had been an open book to thee. What! Thou didst think it all mere idle talk! Elf. As I do live, I thought so. Ath. Kneel and swear. Elf (kneeling). By all in heaven I swear it. Ath. Wait! I choke. Pray thee, undo my collar. Elf. Athelwold ! Athelwold ! Look at me. Dost thou believe me ? Ath. Ay 5 but 'tis too much joy. Thy leave awhile. Let me lean so. There, do not touch me. Ah ! That's better — that is better. Do not touch me — Not yet. Elf. How couldst thou think I meant it? Oh, The gentlest men are cruel when they love ! Ath. Right hadst thou to reproach me. I'll not budge To vindicate mine error. Oh, my beauty, o 105 My untamed hawk, my fierce, soft-footed tigress, Come, set thy talons in me ! Come, despatch ! Rend me in pieces, so thou dost but touch me ! Elf. How thou dost love me ! j t fr_ Ah ; and even thou — Thou dost not know to what extent. Again! Tell me again thou didst not mean it. Elf W hy, Thou knowest that I did not. Atb. Wel1 ' a § ain — Again— again. O lips, I cry ye pardon! Sweet hair, sweet eyes, sweet hands, sweet throat —all, all, I cry ye grace ! Nay, stretch not in mine arms, Lest I do crush thee for thy very sweetness! But, heart, to reason. Darling, there's no time To lose 'twixt now and nighttide. £[f How dost mean ? Ath. Edgar hath been informed. That knave, that Oswald, Hath told him all. To-night he purposes To sup with us. Elf To-night ? j t fo Ay, this same night. Elf What must I do ? At jj^ I've thought upon it, heart. There is one way, one only way to save us. Elf And that, my lord ? jl t j, m That is for thee, my wife, 1 06 By some disguise, some stain on thy fair skin, Some awkward combing of these graceful tresses, To mar this fatal beauty which hath ruined me. Elf. Make myself ugly ? Ath. Ay, as ugly, sweet, As one so fair can look. Elf And let the King Think that I'm hideous ? Ath. In truth, my heart, The more he thinks thee hideous, the better Thou'lt find some way. Come, we will ask thy nurse ; She will assist thee. Swiftly, swiftly. [Exeunt.] A Glade in the Forest. [Enter Edgar and Frothi.] Ed. Well, boy, how lik'st thou to be mis- tressed ? Fro. Sire, Had she not such a beak, I'd love her well For t\\ gold that lines her nest. Ed. Is she so ugly ? Fro. Gods, sire ! Thou shouldst but see her ! Thou wilt sup But sparingly to-night. Ed. How, boy ? Fro. Why, sire, She'd take away the appetite o' a vulture. 107 But there's my master's horn. Thy pardon, sire. I run to help thy welcome. [Exit.] Ed. He's not false. No, he hath not deceived me. This young lad Wears the smooth, easy front of honesty. Would now that I had lugged the priest along To grieve at my rejoicing ! A Room in Athelwold's Castle. [Enter Athelwold.] Ath. It can be done. It can be done. That's certain. Would that her beauty were less palpable, Less self-assertive! Nay — it can be done. That faded gown, ill-shapen ; then her hair Brought low and covered by a dingy wimple ; No gems. Her eyebrows dusted o'er with flour. Some dark stain on her pretty teeth. Yes, yes — The nurse is faithful. Oh, 'tis certain — ay, 'Tis a sure thing. Would I had time myself To look upon her ere she comes ! But then She hath her womancraft for handmaiden, And knowledge of her possible fate withal To egg her to it. Would it were to-morrow ! Or Edgar come and gone! To know thyself That thou art lying is sufficient torture ; But when 'tis known to wife and servant, oh, 'Tis insupportable. I fear myself — I fear myself in this. Yet she doth love me — 10S All else is nothing while that she doth love me. Wilful, but dear in all, in all enchanting. Would God 'twere over ! Would to God 'twere over ! heart, thou hang'st too heavy. Cheerly, heart ; 1 have sore need of thee. Be stanch, good heart, And break not with this monstrous weight. [Enter Edgar.] Your Majesty — Ed. I tell thee I've no majesty, my Thane, When thou dost tax me with it, and in truth Am urged to prove its lack by cuffing thee ! Out, sir ! to thus besire and bemajesty A king made sick with too much deference ! Ath. Wilt seat thee, Edgar? Supper will be served When my wife enters. Ed. Ay, this wife o' thine. Thou didst deserve a fairer fate, my Thane, For truth. They say she has a nose withal To make a pelican top-heavy. Ath. Nay, Her nose is well enough. 'Tis that she's sallow And scorched by many summers. Then, alack ! She hath black teeth, which were a flaw had marred The Virgin Mary. Then, she's squarely shaped. Well, well — but she hath gold. 109 Ed. Ay, gold. But, 'faith, Thou shouldst be better spoused. I fear thy children May not translate thee justly. Ath. (bitterly). Trust me, Edgar, If e'er I have a child 'twill be no great And bulky matter for't to do me justice. Ed. Well, well, Sir Modesty. She tarries, sir, Takes her own time, and, not content with that, Filches her King's. Ha ! ha ! — I'll wager, man, She stirs thee soundly. Ath. Ay, sir. Ed. Well, my ride Hath set a keen edge to my appetite ; I'll do thy viands justice — doubt me not. How keepest Patience still a guest, my Thane, In this old castle? Hast thou hawks? Good sooth ! I'll send thee such a couple o' jashawks, man, Would bring thee down an eagle. Ath. No — no gifts, For God's sake. That is, couldst thou know but once How she will rail at such diversion — Ed. Well, So be it. Seat thee, man. It seems to me This trick o' walking rooms hath grown on thee. Ath. Most like — most like. (Aside.) Saints ! What doth keep her ? no Ed. So ? Ha ! ha ! 'tmay serve thee in good stead, Sir Knave, If the young Thane should be a burner o' al- nights. Ath. Sir, shall we drink ? Ho, there ! some wine ! Ed. Oh, ay. I'll no more turn from wine than babes from milk. Well, well ! Fm sorry thou'lt not take the jas- hawks ; But I've a barb. Doth your wife ride ? Ath. No, no. Ed. (laughing). Horses do shy at her, mayhap? Ath. Oh, ay. I know not. Sometimes. Here's the wine. Kneel, boy, To serve a king. (Aside.) Gods ! will she never come ? Ed. Here's to thy truth. Ath. And thine. Ed. Zounds ! 'tis good wine. Excellent well, i' faith. Ath. The butt is thine. Ed. Why, I'll not squiny at it. Look thee, man — Thou'lt take the barb now ? Ath. No, no ; nothing — nothing ! Ed. I see thou'rt moved by something, Athel- wold. in If 'tis thy wife's long tarrying that frets thee, I know these women. Ath. Yet, sir, she was robed When I came forth to meet thee. Ed. Oh, well, patience. I know 'em, how they'll change and change their fallals, Then back again, then as they were at first, Then back again. But wilt thou drink ? Ath. No more. Ed. One horn — but one. Come, quaff! Ath. Well, then, one only. Ah ! 'tis her foot ! Ed. Thy lady's ? Ath. Ay. There — there — There is the door she'll enter by. Ed. Thou'rt pale. Thy hand shakes. Lean on me. Why art thou troubled ? That door to th' middle there ? Ath. Ay — that one — that one. Now — [Enter Elfreda, slowly, blazing with jewels, and with her wimple thrown back.] God in heaven ! Ed. What is this — some trick ? Speak, madam. You, sir, speak. God's eyes, sir J Speak, 112 When I command thee. Is that woman there I choke ! I choke !— thy wife— Elfreda ? Ath. Ay> Elfreda, and my wife. Ed. What ! thou dost say it ? Thou, madam — dost thou say so ? Where's thy tongue ? I will be answered. Know'st thou I'm the King, Edgar of England, who do question thee ? Art thou Elfreda, sometime child of Olgar, The Earl of Devonshire ? W- I am that Elfreda. Ed. Oh God ! My brain's on fire. Thou, Ath- elwold, Thou — thou — Come — lie again — tell me this woman's Thy wanton, not thy wife. -^- Nay ; she is both My wife and wanton. Elf Athelwold ! — my lord — Ath. Silence ! Nor ever speak to me again. Ed. Madam — sweet Heaven ! I dream — this is a dream. I know I dream — but while it lasts 'tis awful ! Ath. Thou dost not dream. That woman is Elfreda, The daughter of the Earl of Devonshire. I am her husband— Athelwold— thy friend? p 113 Ed. Oh, horrible ! Madam, knewest thou of this? Elf. No — not until some minutes past, my liege. Ed. What ! false to thee as well ? Oh, cow- ard! Ath. Nay, Thou shalt not live to call me coward. Elf. Ah ! Put up thy sword if but for love of me. Ath. For love of thee ? Harlot! Elf. What ! wilt thou dare ? Ed. Lady, fear not. I will protect thee. Sir, I cannot quite forget thee. Athelwold, Hast thou no word to say to me ? No whisper ? Nothing in explanation ? Ath. Nothing. Ed. What ! Nothing ? no word ? Then thou wilt brave it out I' the very teeth of scorn? Be comforted 5 Thou yet shall be the Queen of England, lady. Ath. Now by the King of Heaven she shall not! Ed. Sir ! Ath. I tell thee, Edgar, whether pure or vile She is my wife, and with my very blood I will protect what's left to me of honor, Though it be smaller than the littlest freckle Upon a lily. Ed. Thou dost dare — dost dare ? 114 Atb. (swinging Elfreda behind him). This is the wife of Athelwoid the Thane. Let no man touch her, though he were in all Ten thousand times thy better and a king! Ed. Slave! Ath. By my sword ! Now look I like a slave ? What ! thou wouldst violate the marriage law Beneath my very roof? Thou wouldst make free With this my wife before my very eyes — Unhood Adultery and slip the jesses Of Rapine, and then think to see me bear it ? Lay but thy finger on her, and this sword, Which in thy cause hath druuk so much clean blood, Shall make thy heart its sheath ! Ay, thou mayst rage, Ay, fume ! Wert thou the King of twenty Eng- lands Thou shouldst not have this woman to thy Queen ! Nor think it love that spurs me. No, oh God ! Love lies more deeper buried than the roots Of this mad world. It is not, verily, That I do love this woman as my wife, But that as wife she hath some part in me, And therefore shall not be dishonored. Back ! Back to your court, O Edgar, and remember Kings should be subject to the laws they make, As God himself is subject to his laws. 115 Ed. Wrongs me and words me too? Back, sir, thyself! Ath. So thou wilt dare me, then ? Make her a widow And thou shalt have her ! Ed. Oh, Fll have her. [They fight.] Elf. Nay, Gentlemen ! gentlemen ! My lord ! God's love ! Will you be reasonable ? Oh, help ! help ! Help,there! Without there! Frothi ! Frothi ! Ho! Ho, there ! [Rushes out.] Ed. Thou 'it wounded. Ath. There is one for thee. Ed. Bloodthirsty as a wolf. Again ! Be warned ! Ath. Have at thee ! Wilt thou falter ? [They fight] Ed. Be thy blood On thine own head ! Ath. Amen. [Re-enter Elfreda with Frothi. Athelwold falls as they enter.] All's done. Farewell, boy. Thou wert true. [Dies.] Elf. (struggling with Edgar, who tries to hold her). Unloose me! Nay, I will go to him! I say I will ! [Rushes to him.] 116 isasiilS^ ^ Athelwold ! Athelwold ! My love ! my lord! My husband ! Look, I'm here — I'm here ! Thy wife ! Elfreda! Oh, I meant it not ! Look up ! Boy, he's not dead. Thou'rt keeping back the ail- By hanging over him. Away ! My lord ! Athelwold ! What ? These stains upon my hands ! Jewels, I hate thee ! Off, ye traitors ! Thus — Thus do I rid me of my queenhood, thus Return to thee. Look, I am stript of all That wrought thy anger ! Look, I'll tear my face With these my very nails until I seem More vile than visible sin ! What ! not a motion ? Boy, chafe his hands. Oh, I will follow thee. [Swoons.] Fro. O fair and false ! O master ! master ! master! [Enter Oswald.] Oszv, Your Majesty, how goes the festival ? What ! nothing touched upon the table ? Ah ! Who is the lady ? Fro. (stabbing him). Go and ask my master! O filthy priest, this was thy handiwork From first to last. 117 Os-zv. My liege, I'm hurt to death. See that yon humpbacked pack o' villany Doth suffer for this deed. Promise ! Ed. Not I. He shall in naught be punished. As for thee, Thy punishment, false priest, is in the hands Of that High King whom thou hast always served With more of treachery evn than thou'st served me, Thy mortal monarch. (To Frothi.) Call thy lady's women ; She hath but swooned, I think. O Athelwold! Would God that I lay there instead of thee! THE END By AMELIE RIVES. A BROTHER TO DRAGONS, and Other Old-time Tales. Post Svo, Cloth, Or- namental, $i oo. VIRGINIA OF VIRGINIA. A Story. Il- lustrated. Post Svo, Cloth, Ornamental, $i oo. Miss Rives has imagination, breadth, and a daring and courage oftenest spoken of as masculine. Moreover, she is exquisitely poetical, and her ideals are of an exalted order. — N. Y. Star. It was a little more than two years ago that Miss Rives made her first literary conquest, a conquest so complete and astonishing as at once to give her fame. How well she has sustained and added to the reputation she so sud- denly won we all know, and the permanency of that rep- utation demonstrates conclusively that her success did not depend upon the lucky striking of a popular fancy, but that it rests upon enduring qualities that are developing more and more richly year by year. — Richmond State. It is evident that the author has imagination in an un- usual degree, much strength of expression, and skill in delineating character. — Boston Journal. There are few young writers who begin a promising career with so much spontaneity and charm of expression as is displayed by Miss Rives. — Literary II 'orld, Boston. Miss Rives is essentially a teller of love stories, and relates them with such simple, straightforward grace that she at once captures the sympathy and interest of the reader. . . . There is a freshness of feeling and a min- gling of pathos and humor which are simply delicious. — New London Telegraph. Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, N. Y. jfjQT Harper & Brothers will send either of the above works by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of 'the price.