KING ALFRED
PERSONS IN THE PLAY—Queen Judith, Ethelbald, Ethelbert, Ethelred, Alfred, Peasants, King's Officers
Scene I.—In the Castle
Ethelbald. Tell us a story, lady mother.
Ethelbert. Yes, tell us a story.
Ethelred. I wish it would stop raining, so that we might take our hawks for a hunt!
Queen. I have something to show you, my princes. Is not this a beautiful book?
Alfred. How lovely the red velvet, and see, the clasp is of gold!
Ethelred. And there are jewels in the clasp!
Queen. It is well bound, as so precious a volume should be; but the binding is the least valuable part of the book. Shall we look within?
Ethelbald. Pray show us, lady mother!
Queen. Observe the forms of mighty warriors, fair ladies, and royal chiefs of the olden times in bright and glowing colors.
Ethelbert. How brave they look! Who are they? Tell us of them, dear mother.
Queen. These pictures are beautiful and appeal to the eye, but neither they nor the velvet and gold of the binding give the joy which is greatest.
Alfred. What do you mean, dear lady mother?
Queen. This is a book I greatly enjoy, for it is full of the tales of the mighty King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. You will like to hear me read these brave stories when you are tired with your day's work, or on rainy days when you can neither hunt nor ride. Then you know not how to amuse yourselves and time is heavy on your hands, since you can neither read nor play upon the musical instruments that give us so much pleasure.
Ethelred. The book is so lovely. Let me take it, lady mother!
Queen. I would that the children of my royal husband could read the book.
Ethelbald. Our father does not think much of books and music. He likes to hunt and fight, and so do I.
Ethelred. And I love to hunt, but I love to hear the stories of great kings and warriors, too.
Alfred. To which of us wilt thou give the book, lady mother?
Queen. I will bestow it on him who shall first learn how to read it.
Alfred. Will you really, dear mother?
Queen. Yes, upon the faith of a queen, I will. I will not give it to one who cannot read it. Books are meant for the learned and not for the ignorant. The sons of a king should cease to play with toys.
Alfred. May I take the book a little while?
Queen. Yes, you may take the precious volume, Alfred, for I know you will not injure it, and I hope you will soon learn how to make its wisdom your own.
Alfred. Thank you, lady mother. I shall study the book and learn to read, for I wish to know all about the brave knights of Arthur's court.
Scene II.—Years later, when Alfred is King
King Alfred, Oscar the Earl, Odulph, the Earl's Son
Alfred. All the others have gone back to their homes. In no other way can ye serve me. Wherefore do ye go about to weep and break my heart?
Oscar. We weep, royal Alfred, because thou hast forbidden us to share thy fortunes; as if we were the swarm of summer flies, who follow only while the sun shineth.
Alfred. My valiant Oscar, and you my faithful Odulph, listen to me. I do not despair. The time is not ripe now for further war. Our foes the Danes have conquered us for a time. I trust that the time will come when we shall drive them from our land. But we must do that which seems best for the present and seek to be more successful in the future. We must not sit down and weep; no, this rather shall you do. Go back to your own people and keep me in their memory. When the Dane rules most cruelly, then rise up and cry aloud in the ears of the people, "Alfred the king yet liveth!" Then gather the soldiers and I shall come to lead them to victory.
Oscar. Thou shalt be obeyed, my royal lord. I will return to my men and do as thou hast said. But let my son Odulph stay with thee, if only as thy servant.
Odulph. Well will I serve thee, my royal lord. It is not well for the king to fare alone.
Alfred. I am well content to serve myself, or even to be servant to others, until a happier time shall come. If Odulph desires to serve me, it shall be by bringing good tidings of your success with my people. When the time comes that we may again fight for our country, let him bring me the welcome message. Then we will free our country from the Danish yoke.
Oscar. Farewell, my royal master, since thou wilt have it so.
Odulph. And may the time soon come when I shall bring the message to thee!
Alfred. Farewell, my loyal friends. All will be well.
Scene III.—In the Peasant's Home
King Alfred, Peasant Cudred, Wife Switha
Alfred. Save you, good father! May a Saxon stranger, whom the Danish robbers have made homeless, share a lodging with thy master's cattle for the night?
Cudred. Wilt thou swear to me that thou art not a Dane in disguise?
Alfred. I say to thee, my friend, I am no Dane, but a true Saxon.
Cudred. Then thou shalt share the calf's crib to-night. Perchance thou art hungry, too?
Alfred. To say truth, father, I have not broken my fast to-day; neither have I had aught to drink save from these marshy streams. I shall be right thankful for some food, even a crust of coarsest rye bread.
Cudred. Rye bread, forsooth! Thou talkest of dainties indeed! Thou wilt get nothing better than flat oaten cakes here.
Alfred. I have always wished to taste an oaten cake.
Cudred. Follow me, then, and thou shalt have thy desire. Switha, Switha!
Switha. Well, I hear thee!
Cudred. Switha, I have brought thee home a guest who will be glad to partake of our supper.
Switha. A guest! And thinkest thou I've naught better to do than broil fish and bake cakes for all the vagabonds who roam the land?
Cudred. Patience, good Switha. I have not asked thee to cook for a vagabond. This is an honest Saxon whom it will be charity to feed and shelter for the night.
Switha. Let me hold the torch and see this Saxon guest. Thou lookest like a guest of fashion, sorry fellow!
Cudred. Cease thy scolding talk, woman! I see by this light that our guest hath not been used to beg for charity from such as thou. Why be so hard of heart and by thy rude taunts make bitter the food he must receive from our hands?
Switha. I have heard that charity begins at home, and I am sure we are poor enough.
Cudred. Not poor enough to refuse food to the hungry, such as it is. Here is fish, and here an oaten cake which you wish to taste.
Alfred. Thanks for your goodness, kind host. Indeed, I am hungry.
Switha. You eat like a hungry wolf.
Alfred. And now I am hungry no longer. I thank you both for a good supper, and I hope you will never be sorry you have given charity to a stranger. Now, Cudred, I shall be glad to sleep.
Cudred. This way, then, to the bed of straw. Now, tell me truly, art thou not some mighty earl in disguise?
Alfred. I am Alfred, thy king—I know from thy goodness to me when thou thoughtest me a beggar that thou art a good man, therefore I confide in thee. I know thou wilt not betray thy king.
Cudred. Not all the gold of Denmark should tempt me to commit so base a crime, but we must not let Switha know who thou art, my royal master.
Alfred. I shall be careful. Soon, I hope, my friends will bring me word that my army awaits me, when I shall again try to set my country free.
Scene IV.—In the Peasant's Hut
King Alfred, Switha
King Alfred. It rains so hard to-day that I cannot hunt, so will mend my bow and make some new arrows. May I sit by your fire, good dame Switha?
Switha. Yes, and as I have made a good batch of cakes you might watch them bake.
Alfred. Gladly will I watch them. Show me what I must do.
Switha. Turn them often before the fire, thus, so that they will not burn. Now I will go for more wood for the fire.
Alfred. How long, I wonder, must I remain in hiding. It is very hard to wait. If only I knew how my people were faring. Will the time never come when I can rule over England and unite my people? So many plans have I for their happiness and progress. Schools we must have. The Bible must be translated for the people to read. Roads must be built and the country made safe for all. How long must I sit in Cudred's cottage mending arrows when my heart wishes to help my suffering people!
Switha (running in). I thought I smelled them burning! Oh, thou lazy, useless fellow! Thou art ready enough to eat the cakes, but too lazy to keep them from burning. No wonder thou hast no home, idle as thou art.
Alfred. I pray thee, good dame, forgive me. I was lost in thought of happier days and forgot my duty. Really I am sorry.
Switha. Ay, ay, that is always the way with thee. That smooth tongue of thine is better to thee than silver or gold; for it obtains for thee food, lodging, and friends, and softens all the wrath thy faults provoke. However, I shall set by all the burnt cakes for thy portion of the week's bread, I promise thee; and thou shalt have no other till they are all eaten.
Alfred. My good mistress, here comes a pilgrim boy to ask thy charity. May I bestow one of these cakes on him?
Switha. Thou mayest do what thou wilt with thine own, man! but do not presume to give away my property to idle fellows like thyself.
Alfred. But, mistress, may I not give him that which was to have been my portion for dinner?
Switha. No, indeed! I have enough to do with feeding one vagrant without adding all the lazy pilgrims who pass by.
Alfred. See, mistress, my amulet! I will give thee this jewel, Switha, if thou wilt permit me to feed this poor pilgrim.
Switha. Very well, then. Give him thy portion while I go and hide the jewel.
[Goes out as Odulph enters.]
Alfred. Welcome, Odulph! Tell me thy tidings. I hunger for good news.
Odulph. My tidings, royal Alfred, are these: Hubba, the Dane, the terror of England, is slain, and his banner of the Raven waves in my father's hall!
Alfred. What? Is thy father's castle in the possession of the Danes?
Odulph. Not so, my royal master; but the banner of the Danes, captured by your victorious Saxons, hangs in his hall. We were pent up in the castle by the Danes till our provisions failed. When the last loaf was eaten, and our archers had launched their last arrows, my valiant father led the garrison in an attack upon the foe.
Alfred. Brave Oscar! And you defeated them!
Odulph. Yes, because of the carelessness of the Danes. They believed they had us in their power, and they never dreamed we would leave the castle walls. Few as we were, we fell upon them and slew their chiefs. The soldiers fled, and left our men victorious. Then my father raised the cry, "Alfred the king!" All the country is calling, "Alfred the king!"
Alfred. The time is ripe. I thank you, Odulph. Your father is a noble man, and I shall know how to show a king's gratitude to you both. Shall we go?
Odulph. Lead on, King Alfred, England is ready. Soon you shall head your army shouting, "Long live King Alfred!"
ROBIN HOOD AND THE SAD KNIGHT
PERSONS IN THE PLAY—Robin Hood, Little John, Midge, Will Scarlet, The Abbot, The Knight, The Prior, The Lord Chief Justice, The Lady
Scene I.—In the Greenwood.
[Robin Hood and his men making arrows.]
Robin Hood. This feather is too short. Give me another, Little John. This is a better one.
Midge. Making arrows is not a simple thing, is it, my master?
Robin Hood. Indeed, no; if the feathers be too short, the arrows will not keep true to their course; and if the feathers be too long, the arrows will not fly swiftly.
Little John. If all men knew how to make arrows, their skill in shooting would seem greater. Look to your arrows, say I, before you shoot.
Will Scarlet. We should thank the gray goose for the even growth of her feathers, which carries our arrows straight to the mark.
Robin Hood. First the strong bow that bends to our hand, then the straight arrow, tough and trim, and the feathers that wing it to its mark. But best of all the steady hand and keen eye that direct our winged shaft. But you have worked well this morning, my men, and now we may rest awhile. Sing us a song, Will Scarlet, while we lie beneath the friendly oak.
Will Scarlet (sings).
The hunt is up! the hunt is up!
And it is well-nigh day;
And Harry our king has gone hunting
To bring his deer to bay.
The east is bright with morning light,
And darkness, it is fled;
And the merry horn wakes up the morn
To leave his idle bed.
Awake, all men! I say again
Be merry as you may!
For Harry our king is gone hunting
To bring the deer to bay.
Little John. This song is well enough in its way, but for me, I should much prefer a good dinner. The morning's work has given me a fine appetite and I long for food.
Robin Hood. It is good to eat, but not before we find some rich traveler to pay the bill. Ride out, my man, and find us a host. Willing or unwilling, bid him come.
Little John. With right good will, my master; and may I soon meet with him!
Robin Hood. Remember well, no farmer shall you bring. He works for what he gets and shall live in peace. And the laborer who toils for wife and child you must not harm. Only those who oppress the poor and weak, those who are selfish and unkind, who play while others weep, these shall you bring to me.
Will Scarlet. But look, my master, what sorrowing knight rides there? His garments are rich and his horse gayly decked, but his countenance is sad and he rides slowly, careless of the way.
Little John. Hail, gentle knight; my master awaits you and fain would have your company at dinner.
The Knight. At dinner,—in the wood! Who is your master?
Little John. Robin Hood is he: and here he is to bid you welcome.
Robin Hood. Welcome, Sir Knight, thrice welcome art thou, for I have fasted beyond the dinner hour. Pray you, dismount.
The Knight. God save you and all your company!
Midge. The dinner is served, my master.
Robin Hood. Will you join us, Sir Knight? Here are pheasants and swans and meat of the deer.
The Knight. Such a good dinner, with so many brave men, I have not eaten for many a day. If I come again to this country, I will make thee as good a dinner. But Heaven knows when that will be!
Robin Hood. Thanks for your kind offer. But in the greenwood our guests must pay for their food. A yeoman does not pay for a rich knight!
The Knight. Sorry am I that you must call me poor. I would that I could pay you, but in my saddlebags are no more than ten shillings.
Robin Hood. Is that indeed the truth, Sir Knight? Look carefully, Little John; if the knight speaks truly, he shall keep the ten shillings, but if not—
Little John. Indeed, my master, the knight speaks truly, for this is all the money I can find.
Robin Hood. How comes it, noble knight, that thou art so poor? Come, tell me the story. Mayhap I can help thee.
The Knight. I am Sir Richard of Lea, and my ancestors have been knights for a hundred years. A year ago I had plenty of money to spend as I would. But now I have nothing for my wife and my children, who weep for my absence from them.
Robin Hood. But how did you lose all your money?
The Knight. Perhaps you will think I lost it in a foolish way. My son, whom I dearly love, is a manly youth. Well can he shoot and joust fairly in the field. But once, in a quarrel, he slew a youth, and to save him, I pledged all my lands. Unless I redeem them by All Saints Day I shall lose them all.
Robin Hood. What is the sum you are bound to pay?
The Knight. Four hundred pounds. The day is near and I have nothing.
Robin Hood. But what canst thou do if thou losest thy land? What wilt thou do?
The Knight. I will sail far away over the seas. I cannot remain in England.
Robin Hood. It is a small sum. Hast thou no friends to help thee in thy need?
The Knight. Many friends had I when I had money and lands. Now when I need their help they turn away and know me not.
Robin Hood. By my faith, gentle knight, thou shalt not want for a friend. Little John, go to the chest and count out four hundred pounds.
Will Scarlet. Shall he not have cloth for a coat, gentle master? He is thinly clad.
Robin Hood. Well said, Will Scarlet; go, get three measures of every kind, that he may be warmly and gayly clad.
Little John. Here is the money, Robin Hood, and good measure.
Robin Hood. And what will you give, Little John, who are so generous with my money?
Little John. A pair of golden spurs, that he may ride fast to his castle and redeem his lands.
The Knight. Many thanks, Little John, and to you, my good friend. Tell me, Robin Hood, when shall I come to return the money you so kindly lend me?
Robin Hood. This day twelvemonth; and a happy year may it be! We will meet under this trysting tree. Till then, be merry!
The Knight. I shall be with you a year from to-day. Farewell.
Scene II.—In the Abbot's Hall
The Abbot, The Prior
The Abbot. This day a year ago Sir Richard Lea borrowed four hundred pounds from me. He promised to pay in a year or lose his land. If he does not return to-day, the land will be mine.
The Prior. The day is now far spent. Perhaps he will come yet.
The Abbot. I am sure I hope he will not. I trust he has left England.
The Prior. The land is worth much more than four hundred pounds. It were a pity if he did not redeem it.
The Abbot. Thou art ever crossing me! Speak no more about it! Where is the Lord Justice?
Lord Justice (enters). Here I am. I have just come from London to do justice on that Knight. Where is he?
The Abbot. The Knight has failed to come with the money and this is the day when the land falls to me.
Lord Justice. I dare swear he will not come and thou shalt have his lands. I now declare that the knight, Sir Richard Lea, has failed to keep his promise and his lands are—
The Knight (entering and kneeling before the Abbot). Rejoice with me, Sir Abbot. I am come to keep my day.
The Abbot. What dost thou say? Hast brought the money?
The Knight (to try the Abbot). Not a penny, but—
The Abbot. What dost thou here without the money?
The Knight. To ask your kindness and patience, Sir Abbot, for a longer time.
Lord Justice. The day has come. Thou losest thy land, Sir Knight, since thou canst not pay.
The Knight. Good Lord Justice, help me against my foes! I will surely pay, but must have more time.
Lord Justice. I am sorry for thee, Sir Richard, but the law is plain. Either pay your debt or lose your land.
The Knight. Sir Abbot, I pray thee, have pity.
The Abbot. Get the land when thou canst, thou gettest no pity from me.
The Knight. By my faith, then, if I get not my land again, thou shalt pay dearly for it.
The Abbot. Get thee gone, false knight! Darest thou threaten me?
The Knight. False knight I am not, for I have fought well for my king.
Lord Justice. Sir Abbot, the day is not yet gone. What wilt thou give the knight to hold his peace?
The Abbot. A hundred pounds.
Lord Justice. Make it two hundred.
The Knight. No, nor nine hundred. Ye shall not have my land! Here, Sir Abbot, are the four hundred pounds. Had you been less covetous, I would have given interest. Now, get you gone, all of you; and learn to deal more justly and kindly with those in need. [They go out.]
Lady Lea (entering). Oh, my dear husband! how glad I am to hear your voice again.
The Knight. Happy am I to see you and to be at home again. I must tell you how kind Robin Hood has been to me.
Lady Lea. Robin Hood your friend? Is he not the outlaw of the forest?
The Knight. Yes; but he is kind to all who are unhappy or oppressed. He saved me from leaving England and gave me money to redeem my land.
Lady Lea. How I long to thank him for his goodness to you.
The Knight. In a year we will go to him and repay the four hundred pounds.
Lady Lea. I shall be glad to see him and his merry men, and try to thank them all.