A Third Voice. Deserts! Amen to what? Whose deserts? Yours? You have a gold ring on your finger, and soft raiment about your body; and is not the woman up yonder sleeping after all she has done, in peace and quietness, on a soft bed, in a closed room, with light, fire, physic, tendance; and I have seen the true men of Christ lying famine-dead by scores, and under no ceiling but the cloud that wept on them, not for them. First. Friend, tho' so late, it is not safe to preach. You had best go home. What are you? Third. What am I? One who cries continually with sweat and tears to the Lord God that it would please Him out of His infinite love to break down all kingship and queenship, all priesthood and prelacy; to cancel and abolish all bonds of human allegiance, all the magistracy, all the nobles, and all the wealthy; and to send us again, according to his promise, the one King, the Christ, and all things in common, as in the day of the first church, when Christ Jesus was King. First. If ever I heard a madman,let's away! Why, you long-winded-Sir, you go beyond me. I pride myself on being moderate. home at once. Get you [Exeunt. And blotted by her tears. This cannot last. [QUEEN returns. Mary. I whistle to the bird has broken cage, And all in vain. [Sitting down. Calais gone-Guisnes gone, too-and Philip gone! I Lady Clarence. Dear Madam, Philip is but at the wars; cannot doubt but that he comes again; [Weeps. I am eleven years older than he, Poor enough in God's grace! And Charles, the lord of this low world, is gone; And all his wars and wisdoms past away; And in a moment I shall follow him. Lady Clarence. Nay, dearest Lady, see your good physician. Mary. Drugs-but he knows they cannot help me-says That rest is all-tells me I must not think That I must rest-I shall rest by and by. Catch the wild cat, cage him, and when he springs And maims himself against the bars, say "rest: " Why, you must kill him if you would have him rest Dead or alive you cannot make him happy. Lady Clarence. Your Majesty has lived so pure a life, And done such mighty things by Holy Church, I trust that God will make you happy yet. Mary. What is the strange thing happiness? Sit down here : Tell me thine happiest hour. Lady Clarence. I will, if that There are Hot Gospellers even among our guards Nobles we dared not touch. We have but burnt The heretic priest, workmen, and women and children. Wet, famine, ague, fever, storm, wreck, wrath, We have so play'd the coward; but by God's grace, We'll follow Philip's leading, and set Alice. Madam, who goes? King Philip? Mary. No, Philip comes and goes, but never goes. Women, when I am dead, Open my heart, and there you will find written Two names, Philip and Calais; open his, So that he' ave one, You will find Philip only, policy, policy, Ay, worse than that-not one hour true to me ! Foul maggots crawling in a fester'd vice ! Adulterous to the very heart of Hell. Hast thou a knife? Alice. Ay, Madam, but o' God's mercy Mary. Fool, think'st thou I would peril mine own soul fight it on the threshold of the grave. Lady Clarence. Madam, your royal sister comes to see you. Mary. I will not see her. Who knows if Boleyn's daughter be my sister? Till all men have their Bible, rich and poor. Alice. The Queen is dying, or you dare not say it. Enter ELIZABETH. Elizabeth. The Queen is dead. Elizabeth. She knew me, and acknowledged me her heir, Pray'd me to pay her debts, and keep the Faith; Then claspt the cross, and pass'd away in peace. I left her lying still and beautiful, More beautiful than in life. Why would you vex yourself, Poor sister? Sir, I swear I have no heart To be your Queen. To reign is restless fence, Tierce, quart, and trickery. Peace is with the dead. Her life was winter, for her Spring was nipt: And she loved much: pray God she be forgiven. Cecil. Peace with the dead, who never were at peace! Yet she loved one so much-I needs must say That never English monarch dying left Enter PAGET and other LORDS OF THE COUNCIL, SIR RALPH BAGENHALL, etc. Lords. God save Elizabeth, the the Papacy is no more. Paget (aside). Are we so sure of that? Acclamation. God save the Queen! 1 HAROLD. TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE RIGHT HON. LORD LYTTON, VICEROY AND GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF INDIA. MY DEAR LORD LYTTON,-After old-world records,-such as the Bayeux tapestry and the Roman de Rou,- Edward Freeman's History of the Norman Conquest, and your father's His torical Romance treating of the same times, have been mainly helpful to me in writing this Drama. Your father dedicated his "Harold" to my father's brother; allow me to dedicate my "Harold" to yourself. A. TENNYSON. SHOW-DAY AT BATTLE ABBEY, 1876. A GARDEN here-May breath and bloom of Spring- And Saxon battle-axe clang on Norman helm. We stroil and stare Where might made right eight hundred years ago Each stands full face with all he did below. DRAMATIS PERSONE. KING EDWARD THE CONFESSOR. STIGAND (created Archbishop of Canterbury by the Antipope Benedict). ALDRED (Archbishop of York). THE NORMAN BISHOP OF LONDON. HAROLD, Earl of Wessex, afterwards King of England] TOSTIG, Earl of Northumbria GURTH, Earl of East Anglia LEOFWIN, Earl of Kent and Essex (Sons of Godwin). WULFNOTH COUNT WILLIAM OF NORMANDY. WILLIAM RUFUS. WILLIAM MALET * (a Norman Noble). EDWIN, Earl of Mercia MORCAR, Earl of Northumbria after Tostig} (Sons of Alfgar of Mercia). GAMEL (a Northumbrian Thane). GUY (Count of Ponthieu). ROLF (a Ponthieu Fisherman). HUGH MARGOT (a Norman Monk). OSGOD and ATHELFIC (Canons from Waltham). THE QUEEN (Edward the Confessor's Wife, Daughter of Godwin). Courtiers, Earls and Thanes, Men-at-Arms, Canons of Waltham, Fishermen, etc. * Compater Heraldi, quidam partim Norinannus et Anglus. Guy of Amiens. |