P s 335 jylw- f> jvJNG ALFRED: An Historical Drama. BY HENRY A'AN RENSSELAER AND WILLIAM J. STANTON, Of the Society of Jehus. New York, Cincinnati, and St. (Louis : BENZIGER BROTHERS, Printers to the Holy Apostolic see. flass ^S>G>^y? Book sJL : t V^ ';^l KING ALFRED: A.N Historical Drama BY LN RENSSELAER WILLIAM J. STANTON, I OF THE SOCIETY OP JESUS. The Music for the Songs in lids play is for sale by the Publishers. New York, Cincinnati, and St. Louis: BENZIGER BROTHERS, PRINTERS TO THE HOLY APOSTOLIC SEE. 1880. \ 7S /*7 J Copyright, 1885, by Benzigeb Brothers. KING ALFRED: AN HISTORICAL DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS. DRAMATIS PERSONS. King Alfred. Athelnoth, Earl of Mercia, Earl of Berkshire, " Hampshire, " Wiltshire, " Somerset, Ceolwulf, Earl of Northumbrian Edric, Earl of Essex, Saxon thanes faithful to Alfred. \ Saxon thanes y conspiring ) against Alfred, Asser, Bishop of Sherburne. Edwy, page to Alfred. Colin, Saxon swineherd. Gothrun, Danish prince. Armund, " envoy to conspirators. Danish lords, troops, scouts, etc. Saxon lords, soldiers, attendants, etc. KING ALFRED. ACT I. SCENE I. Private apartment in Alfred's castle. Prince Alfred seated at a table on ichich lie large books, manuscripts, etc. Edwy, liis page, engaged in writing from dictation. Alfred. Thou sigbest, little scribe; art weary- grown ? Too long, perchance, I bend thee o'er thy task. In truth, thou dost a man's endurance show For toil ; take heart, thy work will soon be done ; Then sport and gleeful chase of humming-bird Or rabbit wild shall glad thee in the wood. Edwy. Good master, let me linger by thy side; Not tired am I, for I could write thy words From dawn to dusk, yea, all the livelong night, And never weary grow of serving thee. Alfred. I know it, boy; thou hast thy father's soul. Ah! well he loved the manuscript to scan, And hold communion with those precious thoughts Which slumb'ring lie in tomes like pearls in shell, 6 KING ALFRED. Waiting for one who, diving oft and deep, Should bring their treasure to the light of day. God's holy books he daily conned, and sought In our rude tongue their meaning to express. What joy for him to read the word thou'st writ, And find his thirst for lore in thy young breast! But to our task again, my gentle boy. [Alfred dictates from Bible. " Beatus vir qui timet Dominum" — " A blessed man is he who feareth God." Write quickly, boy; the candle burns apace That I have set to mark the passing hours. Enter Attendant, l. l. Attendant. Two thanes, my lord, crave audience of your grace. Alfred. Bid them approach. [Exit Attendant. (To Edwy.) What tidings can they bring? Enter Athelnoth and Somerset, l. l. Athelnoth. Hail, Anglia's king ! Somerset. Hail, Saxons' choice ! Alfred. Sweet friends, amazement holds me bound; I know not what ye would: the king still lives. It cannot be that treason lurks beneath Your speech and lures me on to perfidy ! Somerset. Alack! thy brother's noble heart now beats ACT T. 7 No more responsive to his country's call. Those wounds we deemed so light have set afree The soul that was the life of all this realm. Alfred {excited). Why sooner came ye not, that I might be The close companion of his failing hours, To pillow on my breast his drooping head; To cool his brow and moist his parched lips; To wipe from off his glazing eye the film That death was spreading there; to speak those words Which lift the shrinking soul beyond despair And give it foretaste of the bliss to come ! [Alfred weeps. Athelnoth. Death all too sudden fell. For as it chanced, We spake of battles past and fields of fame; The king upstarted with his wounds unscarred, And, in the heat of val'rous thought, he burst The scarfs which held the crimson tide that welled From out the hurts which Danish swords had wrought ; And, in the outflow of his gen'rous heart, He breathed forth his soul. Somerset. Yet lives the king ! For kings do never die. Hail, Anglia's king ! The star of Alfred radiant mounts the dark Horizon of our land, made desolate By foemen come from Norway's rugged shores. 8 KING ALFRED. Alfred (demurs). Nay, noble earls, not fit am I to wield The sceptre death has wrested from the grasp Of Ethelred; and weak to combat foes Whom e'en his mighty valor scarce could check. Somerset. Thy words, my liege, become thy modesty; Thy deeds in clarion tone give them the lie. For thou hast proved thyself at Eschendune, Where like a lightning-bolt thou hurl'd'st thyself On Denmark's hosts and clav'st their ranks in twain. Alfred (still hesitating). But I am young in years, and little skilled To adjust the nice perplexities of rule, To frame those laws which make a nation great. Nay, rather seek for one whose wisdom speaks In every act, whose prudence hath matured Watching the changeful workings of the years. Athelnoth (loosens his sword-belt and offers sword). My lord, in such a time, this sword cuts through All argument. 'Tis Ethelred's ! He girt Me with it when about to die, and bade Me wear it till the hour I hailed thee king. [Alfred still hesitates. Refuse it not ; its lustre ne'er was dimmed By aught save Daneman's gore ; the rising hopes Of loyal hearts, oppressed by foreign yoke, ACT I. 9 Do turn to thee to wear it in their cause. Somerset. Thy spirit's native majesty doth bid Thee take thy royal brother's blade And lead thy people on to victory. Alfred. I yield me ; who so base as not to glow At touch of noble fire, which from the heart Leaps out at mention of his country's woes ! When Heaven calls, man must obey. Come then What will, I bow me to my destiny. Give me that kingly steel {girds on sword). I feel within My breast the spirit of my sires burn, And urge me on to deeds of high emprise. Good thanes, go tell the nobles I accept Their trust, and make ye ready for the war That with its din will fright our land once more. • \Exeunt Thanes, l. l. Alfred turns to his books. Farewell, companions of my peaceful hours, Your sweet society I now forego For sterner comrades — helm and sword. No more my pensive soul, on fancy's wings, Shall soar beyond the things of sense — no more Find philosophic rest beneath thy spell. [ Gazes on them lovingly awhile. Edwy. And wilt thou leave me here among thy books ? Shall Edwy not become thy little squire ? When on the march, I'll hold thy casque, 10 KING ALFRED. And woo thine eyes to sleep with low-breathed song. Alfred. Fair child, thy slender frame encom- passes But ill thy heart grown big with noble thought. How could thy sapling form keep rooted life Amid the riving blasts of ragged war ? Stay sheltered for a while within these walls, Till sturdy grown. Yet, ere I go, thou'lt sing, What now I crave, some restful melody. Edwy (sings). Holy Mother, guard thy knight Mid the storm and wrack of battle, When the swords are red with fight And the darts on armor rattle. Holy Mary, maid unflecked, From all ills thy knight protect ! When the faint stars softly light Noble corses of the slain, Holy Mother, grant thy knight Lie not stark upon the plain. Holy Mary, maid unflecked, From all ill thy knight protect ! Alfred. I thank thee, boy ; thy song will ring above The battle's roar and speak me words of hope. Farewell ! Nay, Edwy, yield thee not to tears. Heaven bless thee, child, and grant thee many years ! ACT I. 11 SCENE II. A Forest. Miter Saxon Conspirators talking, r. u. Ceolwulf. Nay, Edric, speak no more ; I will not brook A stripling's rule. Shall we our trophies bring And tribute pay to one who is a babe In arras compared with our advanced estate? Edric. Why, man, the fame of Alfred ringeth through The land since on that day at Eschendune 3 Like blazing meteor madly rushing forth, He on the Norsemen scorching fell and left Them shrivelled on the plain, while in his tent His royal brother lingered o'er his prayers. Ceolwulf. If then his martial prowess dazzle thee, Go flutter round this new alluring light Like silly moth which courts a fatal flame. Go learn thy letters from this noble scribe, Who better knows the scribbled page of books Than temper of a sword. Go join the ranks Of chanting clerks and pious praying monks, And add your glory to the court of him Who aims at grasping all the heptarchy. [Edric starts. But as for me, I'll never lay my crown 12 KING ALFRED. At this boy's feet ; and, at his peril, let Him dare to catch at it ! Edric. Dost think he dreams To strip us of our coronals, and merge The several realms in one ? Can such supreme Ambition dwell in breast so young as his ? Ceolwulf. Aye, can and does. I tell thee, noble prince, That self -same Alfred will o'ertop us all With craft that lackeys unto craven hearts. Edric. What footsnares shall w r e weave to trip him in His upward march to sov'reignty ? A chief Am I by native right and cannot stoop To vassalage ! Ceolwulf. Well spoken like a lord Of Saxon line. Armund, Dane, enters, l. c. Edric draws on him as an enemy. Hold, Edric ! 'tis a friend. Edric. A friend ! and yet a Dane ! Hath iEthiop changed His skin ? If so it be, then will I call Him friend. What means this riddle, Ceolwulf ? Ceolwulf. Its meaning's clear and easy to unfold. You wish to hold your throne, here is the way : Bold Gothrun, whom the Danemen call their king, Hath sent his envoy now to treat with us. ACT I. 13 Edric. What ! treat with us ! What compact can there be 'Twixt Saxons and a Dane, save that which, writ In blood, the sword-point forces on a foe ? Ceolwulf. I grant that hitherto our fiercest strife Hath been with alien hordes ; but now there lurks A foeman, sprung of Saxon blood, more dread Than open enemy. His name you ken. Choose whether you will be a pygmy prince Beneath his giant sway, or reign a king Unshackled by his suz'rainty ! Aemund (breaks in). Give ear. My master Gothrun guarantees to leave You independent lord of all your states, Will you but join your ranks with his and make A common headway 'gainst our common foe. [Edric hesitates. Ceolwulf. Wilt vassal be or king ? Edric (musingly, half aside). I fain would rule, Yet how endure to rule at such a cost ? How turn my lance upon my country's breast And reign through Danish grace, at price of blood Of Saxons slain ? Yet can I bend me down To vassalage ? With two opposing tides My heart is vexed. One bears me onward to A strand where many circle round a chief. The other drives me headlong on a rock Where I may walk supreme, yet ruin find ! 14 KING ALFRED. Ceolwulf. Nay, be a man, and choose a manly role To play. Wilt reign or serve ? Edeic. Methinks we rear Our hopes on shifting sand — a Daneman's word. [Turns to Armujstd.) What warrant can you give of Gothrun's faith ? Aemund. His oath by Odin and by Thor — the gods That rule Walhalla's hall. Nay, more : his son Shall stand a hostage for my master's word. [Edeic still hesitates, but seems moved. Ceolwulf. Why halt so long 'twixt such ex- tremes as these, Or reign o? serve ? Edeic (aside). Halfway I pause upon The steps that reach unto a throne ; shall I, Now fearful, backward turn or higher mount Till I attain the apex of my hopes ? (Aloud.) My choice I fix — my lot I cast : I reign ! Ceolwulf. Said like a king ! Now, noble Dane, Unfold your plans and speak your lord's behests. Aemund. Not here, good thanes, but in my tent, where we Can pledge success in lordly cups of wine. Edeic Lead on, lest from my new intent I bend. Ceolwulf. Lead on ; our footsteps to a crown do tend. [Exeunt, ACT II. 15 ACT II. SCENE I. Swineherd's hut. Alfred in peasant dress. An open hearth with fire on which cakes are baking. Alfred sits mending bow and arrows; takes bow and says: Alfred. Good bow, the last remaining of my friends, How often hast thou stood me in good stead ! With thee in many a glade I followed swift The antlered monarch of the herd and twanged The fatal shaft, that smote his panting flank And laid him victim to the ruthless hounds. But now my fate hath made me pitiful, Since I, like hunted stag, have covert sought, Escaping scarce from Danish f oemen's darts And barbs of trait'rous friends. They deemed me dead, For I was hid from sight amid the slain, And only rose and dragged myself away When gloom of night had veiled the battle-plain. That night I made my couch on rushes dank, Mid croaking frogs and hoot of horned owl — Sole comrades of my fallen state. In dreams, Once more I sat in council-hall with earls Who vied in acts of courtliness. I waked — To find myself an outcast and alone, 16 KING ALFRED. With hardly strength to crawl unto this hut, Which, in the darkness, had unsighted stood. [Smell of burning cakes. Miter Colin, the swine- herd, sniffing the air. Colin. Whew ! what's burning ? As I live it's them cakes as Margery set me to watch, and I set this lazy lout to mind. He's good for naught ! Look ye at this ! {Shaking cake at Alfred.) A pretty barley-cake indeed ! This comes of your moping and mumbling to yourself the whole day long. Out upon ye ! Oh, my poor barley-cakes ! ( Wrings his hands.) Oh, you stupid dolt ! Alfred. Good Colin, chide me not; I did forget — Colin {interrupting him, and repeats sneeringly:) "I did forget" ! Aye, that ye did ! Ye may for- get to mind the cakes, but ye mind not to forget to eat them. {Laughs at his wit. Alfred, confused, goes to examine the cakes.) Ye may mind your bow and arrows now, though what's the use of them I don't see. Ye idle mope. Alfred. Nay, Colin, I did bring thee home a buck The other day, which Margery did sell. Colin. She did, did she ? I dreamt of venison ! But she's a shrewd one. She kept it close from me. I'll be bound she's gone to gossip with some crones about a new gown, and left me here to do her work. Let her bide at home and bake {mock courage) ; I'll tell her so when she comes back. What's that ! ACT II. 17 {starting at a sound.) I thought I heard her footstep ! Let's hide away these tell-tale cinders before she conies. Oh ! she's a terror when she's mad, and it doesn't take much to set her going. Whew ! What shall I tell her when she asks about her cakes? (Turns on Alfred and says :) Come, you lazy clown, lend me a hand to sweep up and make ready a new batch. [Colin beats batter and Alfred rakes the fire. Colin. Throw some fagots on the fire; it's nearly out. Alfred. It smould'reth like my royalty nigh lost Beneath the ashes of adversity. Would I might fan my fortune's flame aglow [Blows on fire. E'en as 1 now these dying embers blow! SCENE II. Woods. Enter Alfred in peasants dress. Alfred (alone). Oh, bitter bread dependence feeds upon! My only solace now is solitude. I'd rather hungry go than share the crust Begrudgingly bestowed by churlish hand Mid gibing, shrewish words. Yea, sooner far The trees shall be my roof, the herbs my food, The birds and forest beasts my company. O ancient oaks, your silence cheers me now, 18 KING ALFRED. Since tongue of shrew hath railed upon a prince! You bow your lofty tops as though you felt The insults offered to an unknown king. Trill on, ye feathered choristers, your lays Of thanks to Him who bounteous feedeth you! Around me roam unharmed, O beasts who ne'er, Like men, upon their fellows turn and rend! How long, my country, shalt thou call to me And find me impotent thy ills to stay ? When shall I meet again thy champions brave And, backed by them, thy dying glory save? \Hears footsteps. I hear the approaching tread of feet. Shall I Withdraw or calmly wait to learn what news They bring?- (Hesitates.) Or friends or foes, I'll bide them here. Enter Athelnoth, Beekshlee, and Wiltshiee. They do not recognize Alfeed, but he recognizes them. Alfeed (aside). My truest friends, although they know me not. I'll not reveal myself till first I learn If they still loyal stand unto my cause. Athel. Perhaps this honest fellow here can give Us tidings of our hapless prince. (To Alfeed.) Good hind, Hast seen a noble warrior in these woods ? He's tall, and has the bearing of a king; ACT II. 19 He's clad in- armor full, is girt with sword, And bears a bow; an azure feather from His helmet waves. Say, by these tokens dost Thou know the man ? Alfred. Aye, such an one did pass Some days agone. Athel. Where is he now ? Which path Pursued he ? Alfred. What will ye with him ? Are ye His comrades or his foes ? Berkshire. His trustiest friends. [Athelnoth and Wiltshire frown and make signs to keep still. Alfred. God give you richest blessings for that word ! [ Undoes his smock-frock and removes beard. They recognize him, fall and kiss his hand.' All, 'Tis Alfred! Tis the king! Oh, Heaven be praised ! Alfred. Yea, Heaven be praised for noblest gift to man — W 7 arm hearts of leal and loving friends in trial, Whose genial currents ne'er congealed grow Neath biting blasts of chill adversity ! Athel. 'Tis well we met, for in these very woods The Saxon traitor thanes do now draw nigh In quest of thee. Their troops do follow on, 20 KING ALFRED. Yet far behind these two, who hound-like press Upon thy trail, too eager for their prey. Hist! Even now they come! Conceal thyself. [They make 'motions to Alfred to hide. He refuses, and motions them to hide. Alfred. Nay, rather hide yourselves. Oh, let me face These wreckers of my throne, and learn of them Their treasonous intent ! Athel. Thou art unarmed, And they are full equipped. Alfred. They'll know me not. And should they on me draw, then come ye forth. [Motions them to hide. They do so. Enter Ceolwulf and Edric, r. l. Ceol. Ho! clown, hast seen a haughty fellow lurk Within these shades ? A stranger in these parts, Upon whose head a royal price is set, Which thou canst gain by opening of thy mouth. Alfred. There did a stranger pass along this way. Was tall? Ceol. He was. Alfred. In armor clad? Ceol. E'en so. Alfred. Was there an azure feather in his helm ? ACT II. 21 Ceol. The same. Thou know'st the man. Here's gold {offering money)', now lead ITg where he hides himself. Alfred {dashes money on the ground). He hideth not! He's here! [Tiemoves beeird, ichile Ceolwulf peiuses in surprise, then draws his sword. Athelxoth eind Thanes rush out. _ Athel. Hold back, thou treach'rous fiend, hold back! Nor dare to draw thy crime-polluted blade Upon thy king. [Ceolwulf strikes at Athelxoth. They fight. Ceol. disarmed and Athel. about to hill him, when King interposes. Alfred. Nay, spare his Saxon blood, Though he has lost all right to Saxon name. Bind him, but let him live that he may taste The mercy of the king he basely wronged. [They bind him. Edric in mean time has thrown himself on his knees eind asked for mercy. Ah! Edric, little did I reck that thou Couldst steel thy heart to such a pass, as thus To turn thy sword-point 'gainst thy country's breast, And join thy forces with thy country's foe. Edric. Too deeply I have wronged to crave for life. Alfred. Yea, deeply wronged; but not so deep my wrongs 22 KING ALFRED. But that my clemency can reach those depths. Live, Edric, to atone thy woful fault, And, battling for thy land in glorious fight, With heart's blood wash thy shield to stainless white! [Alfred raises Edric from the ground. \Exeunt omnss, King Alfred first. SCENE III. Forest in neighborhood of Colin's hut. Enter Colin, l. l., Alfred and Attendants, r. c. Colin. Hulloa! hulloa! Where's that mope gone? {Sees Alfred, who is again in disguise.) Oh, here you are! (Sees others and is put out a little, but takes courage and says:) Oh, you're a sharp one! Athel. Peace, thou brawling churl! [Alfred makes signs to keep still. Colin. Oh, you did well to run away before Dame Margery came home! You should have heard the clatter that she made. Oh, how she stormed when she went to look for her cakes ! I didn't mean to tell her, but I had to own that you had baked the cakes so well (she didn't think it well) that there was nothing left but cinders. If we hadn't thrown them away, I'm sure she'd have ground them to powder and made us drink 'em in water. Oh, it's well for you you weren't there! Her fiery tongue would have scorched you to a cinder as ye did her ACT II. 23 cakes. I had to stand it all alone. She's calling for you now. Come back with me. [Takes Alfred by arm and pulls Mm. Athel. What means this, knave ? How speak you to the king ? Colin. King! Who's a king? (Thumping Al- fred.) He's my dame's baker; she's got a batch ready for him now. He's pale; but won't she brown him when she warms him with her tongue! She's a fine woman, is Margery — but she has a tongue. Oh ho ! [Laughs. Athel. Enough of this ! Down, churl, upon thy knees, And sue for pardon and for life! [Alfred throws off disguise. Colin (alarmed falls on his knees). Oh, mercy, lawkamercy ! Whoever would have thought it! Mercy, mercy! And didn't she say, " Lors! that fellow should be a king, he's fit for nothing else"? And Margery — whatever will become of her ? Oh, I told her she scolded you overmuch. Oh, them barley- cakes will be the ruin of us! Oh, we're lost, lost, lost! Oh, oh, them cakes, them cakes! Alfred (laughing, takes him by the hand and raises him). Arise, good Colin; thou and I are friends, And fellow-sufferers too from thy dame's tongue ; Yea, brother-bakers, sooth. Couldst bear to leave Thy home and Margery and warrior turn ? 24 KING ALFRED. I'll dub thee baker to my soldiery. [Colin grins and nods assent. Meet us a few days hence at Egbert's Stone. {Turns to Thanes.) Good comrades all, let's speed us on our way; I see the dawning of a brighter day. [Exeunt omnes, l. it., save Colin, ivlw struts across the stage brandishing a club. Colin. Come on, ye bloody foes! I'll lay it on ye. Faith ! I'll be a bold lance. ( Voice heard calling "Colin") Oh, there's Margery shrieking after me ! What'll she say ? All my courage fails. How'll I ever tell her?. And who'll mind the pigs? (Cry repeated.) Oh, I must face the foe! I'd rather face a hundred Danes than Margery when she's angry. But here's for it! I'll be bold! [Straightens up, shoulders stick and marches, l. l. ACT III. 25 ACT III. SCENE I. Danish camp. Tent spread. Under it Alfred with Gothrun and Danes. Alfred disguised as a minstrel. Gothrun. This merry bard so whiles away the hours, The day seems scarcely long enough, and night Draws on too soon. Fill up a bumper, man, Then sing another song. [Alfred/^ goblet. Danes. So say we all. Alfred {drinks, then sings). Fiercely the waters play Lashing the prow, As ships from Denmark gay Steadily plough Their course 'gainst wind and tide. Past rocks and shoal, Steadily, steadily Making their goal. At last they reach the coast Rugged and white. Boldly they make their boast, Arm for the fight. 26 KING ALFRED. Forward the warriors rush In thickest fray, Bloodily, bloodily Win they the day. Madly the Saxon bands Yield to the shock; Break they beneath our hands Like wave 'gainst rock. High o'er triumphant hosts, Flapping his wings, Victory, victory, Dark raven * sings. [They applaud song. Gothrun throws a bracelet to It im. Gothrun. Here, minstrel, take the gift thy song hath won. Whence comest thou ? Why sang ye not before ? How art thou called ? 'Tis strange so sweet a bard Should hidden lie like dumb forgotten lute. Thy name ? Alfred {comes forward and takes bracelet / con- fused; knows not what to answer). They call me Olaf ; and my voice Was mute, unwitting that I had the skill To touch the chords of passion in thy soul. Gothrun. - Thou erst hast been too modest of thine art. * Raven was the Danish ensign, omen of victory, when by waving of the banner the wings appeared to flap. ACT III. 27 Henceforth thou shalt at royal table sit, And tune thy harp in Denmark's praise. Make room. [Seats Alfred at table. My chiefs, we'll seat oar minstrel here. Enter Scouts from different quarters. What news ? l. c. 1st Dane. The Saxons are dispersed on every hand. e. l. 2d Dane. No army do they raise ; their hope is gone. l. l. 3d Dane. Nor gleams a single blade against the Dane. Gothrun. No news is this; I guessed as much before. Let's merry-make and rest secure. What need Of armor when the foe's disarmed ? Why watch When foes stir not abroad ? Why talk of war When every wind doth murmur peace ? To wine And wassail, gallants all ! And mind ye that The common troop make cheer. A holiday Proclaim for all who sailed from Norroway ! (They sing.) Shout, shout for Denmark, ho ! Drinking to the raven. Shout, shout for Denmark, ho ! We've conquered Saxons craven. Reaphin, proud reaphin, bird of glorious omen ; Reaphin, proud reaphin, thou terror to the foemen ! We'll shout, we'll shout, we'll shout ! 28 KING ALFRED. SCENE II. Forest-path. Thunderstorm. Enter Ceolwulf, l. l. Dress disordered, and un- armed. Ceolwulf. I never thought to like the rumbling roar Of thunder-clap, nor in the lightning's glare To find a friend to aid me in my dire Extremity. Yet so it is ; and I Do thank ye, jarring elements, that scared Those craven minions of the upstart king, That they, forgetting all save thought of life, O'erlooked the captive they had basely made. I'm free ! O joyful words to one who late Was bound like slave with ignominious cords ! I'm free ! They'll rue my freedom, who themselves Shall soon be bound ! Why, ev'ry drop of blood Within my veins seems fired to goad me on To seek revenge ! Ah, dastard Edric, could I now lay hand on thee, 'twould heavy fall, And press thy puny spirit from its home ! The body of a man indeed thou hast, But quailing courage of a woman's heart. I'm free ! Oh, scarce can I believe it true ! Two days and nights of bondage were to me ACT III. 29 As many years. I, Ceolwuif , in chains ! Let me not muse on it ; 'twill drive me mad ! [ Grinds his teeth. Ha ! Alfred, thou hast not escaped me yet. I'll have another thrust at thee afore I die. Thou hop'st to reach thy end and clutch Once more the crown. I'll snatch the prize from thee ! I'll rouse the Danes to fiercer, bloodier wars ! I'll stop at naught to bring about thy fall ! Magnanimous thou call'dst thyself, forsooth, Because thou sparedst my life ! I thank thee not For life in fetters vile ! Ha ! ev'ry wish Of jrood I once did know is turned to hate — Keen, poisoned hate ! I feel a very fiend That thirsts to be revenged ! Revenge would be As cooling drops to tongue that cleaveth to The parched roof of mouth. I burn with hate ! All thought of mercy frightened flees from me ; It shrivels as the lily does before A fiery f urnace-blast. Ambition ! thou Hast turned me from a noble thane into A furious devil mad with greed of power ! [Sounds of thunder die away and sun comes out. Three Saxon Soldiers are seen advancing in pur- suit. Ceolwulf gets a glimpse of them, and starts alarmed. I see the Saxon sleuth-hounds on my track ; (Bitterly.) I had forgotten that I was a hare By beagles chased. What shall I do ? Where turn ? 30 KING ALFRED. If I advance, they'll sight me without fail. I'm spent and footsore, so I cannot lead The race and distance them ; unarmed, and one To three, how dare I stand and give them fight ? Where can I hide ? [Looks around for a hiding-place ; sees a fallen tree y falls down flat behind it, saying : So low I'm brought, the dust I'm forced to taste, and, like this fallen oak That once did proudly rear its crest, to lie All prone upon the earth ! Enter, l. u., two Soldiers and Colin, dressed as a soldier, between them. Colin {looks around timidly). Say, where's he gone ? 1st Soldier. He can't be far away. 2d Soldier. Well, comrades, where's Our prisoner ? I'm i sure I saw him, 1st Soldier. Oh, He must be near. Colin. He can't escape us now. [Patting his breast. 2d Soldier. What say you then to rest awhile ? This trunk [Pointing to fallen tree. Invites us to a seat. 1st Soldier. I dare not sit Until I lay my hands upon the man. Colin. He's good as caught — we're three to one. (Tries to drag them to the trunk.) Come, sit. ACT III. 31 1st Soldier. No, not a moment's rest I'll take before That Ceolwulf is safely tied again. He must have iron strength to burst the bonds We bound him in. That thunder-storm will cost Us p'r'aps our lives. 2d Soldier. Oh no ; the king is kind, And could not punish us with death for such An accident. 1st Soldier. Unlucky accident To let him slip ! Do what you like ; no rest For me till he is trapped. [ Goes off, r. l. 2d Soldier (to Colin). We'd better go, And then we'll share whatever's to be gained. [Exit, R. l., 2d Soldier. Colin lags behind ; stands just in front of the tree-trunk, trying to look very martial. Colin. I'm glad I didn't stay at home a single day When once the king had asked for my stout arm And stouter heart (2 Klts *0 to ne ^P ^ m 'gainst the Danes. Faith ! he's a mighty prudent king that knows A valiant man when he claps eyes on him. Wouldn't Margery be proud if she could see Me hunting, not for pigs that went astray, But for that black-browed villain Ceolwulf ! I'd lay it on him (brandishing pike) if I had him here ! [ Goes to sit down on the tree, token Ceolwulf makes 32 KIKG ALFRED. a movement and a sound. Colin jumps up and bolts, crying : The devil's here ! Oh, I'll be killed, be killed ! [Ceolwulf gets up and comes forward. Ceol. I breathe again. My body trembles yet From dread suspense. I scared that fellow so That he will never dare to venture back This way. He'll scare the others too, so I May follow safely on my road unto The Danish camp. Once there, I'll raise A tempest that shall burst in ruin on The Saxon league ! Ha, ha ! I'll wreak my wrath On all who dare oppose my throneward path ! SCENE III. Camp scene. Moonlight. Gothrun and troops sleeping here and there on the ground. Alfred awake. Alfred. Now sleep they all ; but not the peace- ful sleep Of those who rest from labors done, but like The ravening beasts that feed and drink till they Have sated grown, yet cannot bear to leave The enticing bait while drop or fragment still Remain. At length they drowsy fall and breathe Through open mouths, as if demanding more. Sleep on and take your fill, ye greedy curs ; I'll give you food ere long to glut your fangs ! ACT III. 33 \Sees Edwt asleep among Danes. Goes over to him cautiously. But who's that boy whose flaxen locks bespeak A Saxon birth ? Methinks I know the lad. 'Tis Edwy ! Ah ! how came he here mid foes ? I left him safe in castle strong secure. I'll wake him. [Shakes him gently. Edwy, wake, my little scribe ! [Edwy rubs his eyes and half wakes. Edwy. Who calls ? Must I so soon arise ? I'm tired. Oh, let me longer sleep, for heavy fall My weary eyelids down. Alfred. Hush ! softly speak, For fear the sleepers thou arouse too soon. I am thy master ! Know'st thou not my voice ? Edwy. It cannot be ! I'm dreaming still. Oh, that But once again mine eyes might gaze upon My dearest lord ! Would that mine ears might catch The gentle words that used of old to fall From his dear lips, like silvery chimiug of A sacring-bell. Alfrsd. Thou dr earnest not, fair child. See (removes beard), it is I, your loving lord and king. [Edwy throws himself at Alfred's feet and kisses his hand. Quick, tell me what thou doest here, and how 34 KING ALFRED. Didst hither come. Why tarriedst not in keep Of castle strong with troops engarrisoned ? Edwy. Alack ! no fault of mine hath brought me here. Thy castle was besieged, and fell a prey To cruel Danish hordes. My lady queen And thy sweet babe did scarce with life escape ; While I, a captive sad, was led to wait Upon my new-made lords — to pour the wine, And rouse by song their brutish apathy. Alfred. O wof ul tidings ! What ! My queen, my child Were hunted by these hounds — these dogs of Danes ! How shall I stay my hand, nor vengeance take When now, like sotted beasts, they helpless lie ! Yet no ; forbid it, God, that I should strike ! The vengeance Thine. Thou wilt in time repay. I'll meet them on the battle-plain, and there Will force them mercy to implore of me For all the ills and woes they brought this land. Yea ! sleep secure, ye brutish alien hosts ; Not sleeping men I'll touch, nor harm a hair. But soon shall many fall into that sleep From which there's no arousing. (To Edwy.) Come, we'll haste Away to Egbert's Stone, for there we'll meet My warriors brave ere morrow's sun go down. Then comes the fight for victory and my crown ! ACT II f. 35 SCENE IV. Egbert's Stone, Sherwood Forest. Enter, r. a, Athelnoth, Berkshire, Wiltshire, and other Thanes. Berks. Is this not Egbert's Stone ? Wilts. It is ; and this The hour appointed for our meeting here. Athel. And yet he cometh not ! Hath aught of ill Befallen him ? Berks. Nay, Heaven forefend ! Wilts. I say Amen with all my heart ! Berks. And yet 'twas task With too great peril fraught to penetrate Alone into the hostile camp ! Wilts. How could He e'er prevail on us to let him risk So dear a life, when we were eager to Endanger ours for king so true, so leal ! Athel. I swear by this my trusty sword, if they Do harm one hair of Alfred's head, or spill One drop of Alfred's blood, I'll call them to So rich a reckoning, not all the heads Nor veins of Denmark's warriors can e'er Reprisals ample give for deed so foul ! Enter Dorset, Somerset, and Hampshire, r. l. Wilts. Well met, good thanes, and doubly so if word 36 KINC4 ALFRED. Ye bring about our royal chief. Dorset. Hath he Not yet arrived ? Somerset. As soon the sun go down At noon as Alfred break his plighted word ! Berks, (excited). I see a gleaming spot among the leaves, As though the sun did glint upon a helm, And nodding to the breeze an azure plume ! Thank Heaven, it is the king ! All. The king ! the king ! Miter, l. l., Alfred, Edwt, et al. Alfred greets chiefs as they cluster round him. Alfred. Brave hearts ! your loving loyalty hath wrought What anguish ne'er had power to work ; no tear Hath veiled mine eyes till now, like summer shower, They fall, though smiles the sun in cloudless sky. Yea, joy effects what sorrow might not do. But 'tis no hour for tears ! Exult we all ! Some days agone, in minstrel guise, I hied Me to the Danish camp, and there mine eyes And ears did learn that victory assured Is ours. \Here the Thanes cluster around Alfred, shouting "Hurrah!" The boastful foe have laid aside Their arms ; unharnessed now they sport as though The land was theirs ; they deem that we do hide ACT III. 37 Like frighted hares, too timorous grown to face Them ever in the field again. Without A sentinel their tents, without a scout Their hosts ; their steeds unbridled straying browse Beyond their heedless masters' call. Their troops, From king to meanest groom, mid revelling cups Have doltish grown. Their brains all steeped in wine So with delusion reel, that all the wiles And art of war they've thrown aside with swords Now rusting in the sheaths. [Derisive shouts. My loyal thanes, The day now dawns that ushers in an age Of victory ! Our country piteous moans 'Neath savage yoke. We'll hew it from her neck, And burn the fragments in atoning fires ! We'll grind the foe with stones of castles they Have razed ! We'll hunt them through the fields They've desert made ! [All shout, " We will!" We'll harness them to ploughs For steers ! The remnant that escapes shall bear Our burdens, cut our wood, and water draw ! Yea ?/ loyal chieftains, now the hour speeds on When our dear land shall lift her bruised head, Her breast no longer feel the armed heel Of Dane ! Let's break like whirlwind on their camp, And rend and rive and hurl them into rout Like leaves to atoms whirled in wrathful blast ! We timid hares will spring upon the throats 38 KING ALFRED. They've in their folly bared. My fancy sees Them start and livid turn at sound of our Death-bearing charge ! I hear the amazed call Of captains to affrighted men, who grope For arms and mingle drunken curse with cry For steed ; too dull to know a friend from foe, They grapple madly with their fellow-Danes, Allies become, and speed their own defeat ! [All shout and flash swords. Athel. Lead on, lead on ; we'll follow in thy lead ! Alfred. Oh, well I knew your hearts would echo back Our country's call ! Strike off at once her chains ! To-morrow morn assemble with your clans On Ethandune. Lord Athelnoth shall lead The horse ; Lord Dorset shall the bowmen guide ; You, Berkshire, head the slingers, while the pikes Shall follow Hampshire's earl ; and, Wiltshire, thou Command the spearmen bold ; Lord Somerset Shall in reserve a chosen band retain. And yon, my lords {to others), the charges take that these Shall, on the morrow, give you in the field ; While I will ride to every point and lend My arm where'er the battle seems to lag. The time is short. Go each unto his post. But ere we part we'll knit our souls in one Supreme embrace. Your hands, my noble earls ! ACT IV. 39 Farewell ! The god of armies we invoke To aid us rend the Danemen's cursed yoke ! [All kneel on one knee in circle round king and raise swords. All. Our swords, our lives, to country and to king, Our souls to God, we give in offering ! (Curtain falls on this tableau.) ACT IV. SCENE I. Wood. Battle going on ; confused sounds of shouting, etc. Sallies made across stage, l. c. to it. c. Enter Alfred and Ceolwulf fighting, r. l. Edric follows close on and interposes between Alfred and Ceolwulf. Enter other Soldiers ; Alfred drawn off in their rush. Ceolwulf. Thou craven-hearted knight, that durst not face Usurping prince without a plea for grace, I have thee now ! I'll grant thee grace, forsooth. But not thy coward life. So stand and strike ! [Makes pass at him. Thou castedst slur on me. I pay thee now. Take that, and that, thou rashly meddling knave ! [Makes lunges at /tint. 4'0 KING ALFRED. Edric. O shame, a Saxon kinsman's blood to shed ! Yet traitor forfeits all his rights. Thou strik'st ? Then look thou to thy heart, for thine heart's blood Alone can wash such stain of infamy ! [Mortally wounds Ceolwulf, who falls. Forgive me, God, so grim a deed ; and, thane, Beg mercy on thy sin-bespotted soul ! [Ceolwulf dies. Edric, himself wounded, falls fainting. Enter Alfred, by same side as he ivent off; sees Edric. Alfred. What ! fallen, Edric ? Bathed art thou in blood ! Unlucky chance that bore me from thy side And left thee in my stead to fight so rude A knight, twice perjured in his knightly oath ! [Edric looks as if he were dying. But thou art stricken unto death ! Can naught avail to stanch these wounds ? [Takes him in his arms and tries to hind up the wounds. Edric (speaking slowly and gaspingly). 'Tis vain, dear lord ; My life-blood ebbs too fast. My task's fulfilled. I've saved that life 'gainst which I dared to raise A trait'rous hand. I've won me back the name I erst did bear of Saxon earl. I've washed My shield to stainless white in ruddy flow Of blood that costs me life. Call me once more ACT IV. 41 Thy loyal knight and true — King — Alfred — ah ! [Gasping. I die. O Jesu, mercy ! Mary, help ! Asser, who has been acting as chaplain to army, appears on scene, l. l. Alfred. Oh, haste thee, Asser ; noble Edric dies ! [Edric dies in Alfred's arms ; Asser bending over him. Alfred covers him with shield after lay- ing him down. Rest 'neath the shield thy blood hath bleached white. Rest endless grant him God in realms of light ! SCENE II. Present the King and Soldiers. Lords Berkshire and Somerset rush in, l. c. Berks. My lord, my lord, the Danes, by Gothrun led, Do hotly press our central host. Our men, Though stubborn, yield them inch by inch. Wert thou But there, thou couldest backward bend the front Of Norse battalions madly rushing on ! Somerset (peers through I fees and exclaims). The Danish squadron makes this way, and from The dust leaps forth a black-plumed warrior ! 42 KING ALFRED. Swiftly he draweth nigh ! 'Tis Norway's prince ! He's here ! ( To Alfred.) My lord, this breast thy bulwark be ! Enter Gothrun and Danes, l. c. Gothrun turns Somerset aside and runs him through. Gothrun. Block not my way, you mongrel cur ; I seek the king ! Alfred. The king seeks thee ! And here I stand To meet and fight and wipe thee from the land.! GoTHRinsr. Strike then, proud prince ; my sword mine answer give ! The man whom Gothrun feareth doth not live ! [They fight. Gothrun falls on one knee wounded ; still fights. Alfred knocks sword from his hand. Alfred. Dost mercy crave ? Gothrun. No favor crave I from A foe ! My life is thine ; do with it what Thou wilt. Alfred. Not endless death I will for thee, But life that lasts beyond this passing world ! [Stoops and lifts him up by the hand. Live, Gothrun ! share the Christian heritage ; Renounce thy heathen gods and rites profane, And, at this price so benefiting thee, Take back the sceptre thou hast lost, and, free Once more, rule o'er thy people led by thee Within the fold of Christ ! ACT IV. 43 Gothrun {amazed; pauses awhile, then says). O Alfred, ne'er Saw I such generous foe, nor thought that heart Of man could show such magnanimity ! But oh ! too sudden is the change thou wouldst. Grant me a space, howe'er so brief, to learn That Christian faith which maketh gods of men ! Alfred. What time thou wilt is thine ; nor over- haste. The holy bishop here (pointing to Asser) shall to thy mind Unfold the saving truths. Good Asser, care For him as though 'twere Alfred. [Exeunt Asser and Gothrun, r. u. Sound of 'bu- gles, etc. Saxon troops rush on, shouting " Vic- tory /" Enter Wiltshire. Wilts. The Danemen flee on every side! No hope Have they ; their arms they cast away, their tents Forsake ; no thought but flight. They turn against Themselves, and to our cause conspire. So swift They fly, 'twould seem that fright had given wings : Our soldiers chase them to the very sea. Their corses homeward borne upon the main Shall tidings give to friends of dire defeat ! Enter Athelnoth, l. u., bearing a royal crown, mantle, etc. Athel. Rich booty bring I from the sacked camp — 44 KING ALFRED. This royal crown and mantle for my liege. Alfred (starts on seeing them). It is the circlet worn by Anglia's kings ! How fell it into Danish gripe ? Alack, My castle fell a prey to enemies ! Thank God, my tender wife and babe escaped ! Athel. {makes signs to a soldier). We'll bid the holy bishop Asser come, (To Alfred.) And here, upon the battle-plain, he'll set, Mid loud huzzas and acclamations proud, The royal diadem upon thy head ! Enter Asser. Alfred. Nay, not upon this blood-besprinkled plain, Where many a valiant knight and yeoman brave Have gasped forth their soul in bitter pain. (To Asser.) But tarry yet awhile until sweet peace Shall reign where now discordant war breathes forth Its dying note ; then in our abbey church In solemn form thou'lt me anoint and on My forehead place the crown. (To lords, soldiers, etc.) This day sennight I bid you to the coronation-rite. | Exeunt, r. ACT V. 45 ACT V. SCENE I.* Chamber in royal palace. Asser and Gothrun seated. Asser. Art ready now, my lord, to don the dress Of neophyte, to gain the priceless gift Of faith ? Gothrun. I little thought this stained soul Might pure become as that of simple child ! The only law I used of old to know Was that of wrong for wrong, and blood for blood, The noble Alfred hath laid bare the law Of love for fellow-men for Christ's dear sake. Yes, Asser, I would cast my sinful self In tide that washeth all the stains away. Anew I'd live, forgiving and forgiven. Asser. Naught hinders then that thou this boon should st gain. Let's bear these happy tidings to the king. Impatient he awaits, like one who, rich Himself, would fain his treasures share ; the pearl, The precious pearl of faith, and jewels rare Of grace, he eager longs that thou shouldst stretch Thy hand and take unto thine own. Wilt go ? Gothrun. Yea, holy father, I no longer doubt ; So haste we to the lofty -minded prince. [Exeunt, r. * The first and second scenes of this act may be omitted on the stage. 46 KINK ALFRED. SCENE II. Royal chapel; font in foreground. King Alfred and Lords, etc. Asser. Gothrun in white tunic. Asser (standing by font). What dost thou seek of holy Church of God? Gothrun. Faith, saving faith, most earnestly I seek, And swear by all the saints who reign above That I renounce the devil and his pomps And lying vanities! No more I'll wrong The innocent — the widow, and the child Bereft of parents' care. No blood I'll shed Save in just cause. Mine enemies forgive ; My people rule in equity. So help Me God! His Mother blest, and all the host Of heaven — the angels mighty, and the just Already perfect made — my sponsors stand! 'Fore them I raise and pledge my kingly hand! All. Amen, Amen ! A thousand times Amen ! SCENE III. Cathedral. Throne prepared. Enter long procession : Acolytes et ah; Asser; Sol- diers, Courtiers ; Lord Athelnoth, bearing crown on a velvet cushion; Lord Hampshire, the royal mantle; Lord Dorset, the state sivord; then Pages and the King. Somerset (as king-at-arms). Alfred, the son of Ethelwulf the king, ACT V. 47 And brother to our late chief Ethelred, I here proclaim, in presence of you all, To be the suzerain of all the heptarchy; The lord of Essex, Wessex, and of Kent, Of Sussex, Mercia, and Northumberland, And of the Angles dwelling East. Long live The king! Assek. In holy name of God, I ask Of thee, most noble prince: Wilt thou here swear To rule thy people as becomes a king Who reigns as representative of Him Who is the sovereign Lord of earth and heaven ? Alfred. Yea, I do swear most solemnly to rule As in the sight of Him who is the King To whom I bow my knee, since from Him flows All sovereignty. And here I pledge you all That I devote my manhood's vigor, mind, And body, to the welfare of this realm. True justice I'll administer without Regard to rank or privilege ; and all, From earl to serf, shall taste the blessings that Arise from laws whose models are the laws Of God and of our holy Mother Church. In time of peace I'll be a father to My people, and their friend. In war their chief Who foremost leads the way, and in the front He dies or, living, triumphs o'er his people's foes! [Shouts of, "Long live King Alfred /" Kind friends, I fain would you outstrip in deeds, 48 KING ALFRED. For words are feeble to express the thoughts That swell within my mind, aroused by your Sore-tried and valued loyalty. For you I live, be God my witness and my aid! {To Asser.) And now this royal crown and mantle bless, And pray I wear them both in righteousness ! [The Bishop places the crown on his head am 7, e mantle upon his shoulders. People again "y 9 "God save the king /" and sing hymn : Hail! hail! all hail! all hail! Hail, prince who now returnest - Triumphant o'er thy foes ! Hail, eager heart that burnest To soothe thy country's woes ! Hail, Alfred, who enthrallest Our hearts but free'st our hands ! Hail, warrior who appallest The foemen of our lands ! Hail, Alfred, who hast freed us From Denmark's savage horde ! God bless our king! God speed us! God save our true liege lord! Hail! hail! all hail! LIBRARY OF CONGRESS