MOROREO 
 
 i( • • and • • 
 
 H119DE5RANO. 
 
 i 
 
 A BOOK OF TRAGEDIES 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM WILFRED CAMPBELL, 
 
 (Author of "The Dread Voyage," "Lake Lyrics.") 
 
 OTTAWA : 
 
 J. DURIE & SON 
 
 1895. 
 

 2024 
 
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TO MY FRIENDS. 
 ,,^ THE HONOURABLE J. C. PATTERSON, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE HONOURABLE A. R. DICKEY, 
 
 THIS BOOK OF TRAGEDIES 
 IS DEDlCATfeB. 
 
Entered aceording ta the Act of the Parliament of Catuida in- the year one 
 thousand eight Hundred' and' ninety-five, by William Wilfred' Campbell, Ottawa, 
 in the office of the Minister of Agriculture^, at Ottawa. 
 
 printed bv 
 Paynter & Abbott, 
 
 48 RiOEAU ST. 
 
MORDRED. 
 
 A TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS. 
 
 FOUNDED ON THE ARTHURIAN LEGEND 
 
 OF 
 
 SIR THOMAS MALORY. 
 
 (This Drama was written in July and August, 1893.) 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Arthur, King of Britain. 
 
 MoRDRED, Illegitimate Son of Atthur. 
 
 Sir Launcelot. 
 
 Merlin. 
 
 Sir Gwaine. 
 
 King Leodegrance, Father to Guinevere. 
 
 Sir Agravaine. 
 
 Sir Mador. 
 
 Sir Bedivere. 
 
 Dagonet, the king's jester. 
 
 A Hermit. 
 
 Guinevere, Queen of Britain. 
 
 Vivien. 
 
 Elaine, a maiden who loves Launcelot. 
 
 Unid, a lady in waiting on the Queen. 
 
 Knights, gentlemen, ladies, soldiers, herdsmen, 
 messengers and pages. 
 
MOR DRED 
 
 ACT. I. 
 SCENE I.— A Hermitage tn the Woods, 
 
 Enter Arthur, Launcelot ahd other Knights. 
 
 Lanncelot. Here is a place of prayer, we will alight, 
 And rest a space and think us of our sins. 
 
 Arthur. Launcelot, and were I shrived and clean 
 Half hell itself were loosened of its pains. 
 
 Launcelot, Arthur, friend and lover of my youth, 
 Could'st thou but throw this black mood from ihee now. 
 And get a sweeter hope into thy soul. 
 Drive out the horrid phantoms of the past, ■'-' 
 
 And it were hope for Britain. Well thou knowest '* 
 
 Men look to thee to succor this poor land 
 Enrent by inward brawls and foreign hordes, '; 
 
 Whose fields untilled, and vanished the smoke of homes. 
 It hath been said that thou would'st raise once more 
 Out ot these ruins a kingdom whose great fame > 1/ 
 
 Would ring for ages down the days of earth. 
 And be a glory in men's hearts forever. 
 
 S^Passes to the left. 
 
 Arthur. Launcelot, well know I thy love for Arthur. 
 'Tis thy sweet, manly kinship of the hearjt. 
 Opening thy spirit's windows toward the sun, 
 Hath made my dark days lighter. Would that I 
 Had kept me holy, innocent as thee. 
 I might in kinder fate have made this land 
 A place where holiness and peace' might dwell, 
 And such a white and lofty honor held 
 Before men's eyes, that all the world would come 
 
a MORDRED. [act I. 
 
 And worship manhood's beauty freed from sin. - 
 
 Such dreams have haunted me from my first youth, 
 
 In fitful slumbers or long marching hours. '., V 
 
 These lonesome lofty vigils of the heart 
 
 Have made men deem me colder. 'Tis my sin ! 
 
 Oh Launcelot I am blacker than thou knowest ! 
 
 [Exit Launcelot. 
 
 Enter Hermit. 
 
 Hermit And comest thou, my son, for Church's grace ? 
 
 Arthur. I come here, Father, for to have me shrived. 
 
 [^rCneeis. 
 
 Hermit. Then thou art shriven, such a noble face 
 Could never harbor evil in its grace. " 
 
 [^Lifts his hands in blessing. 
 
 Arthur. Stay holy Hermit, fair trees rot at heart, 
 And I am evil if this world holds ill. 
 I would lay bare my soul of its foul sin, 
 And if there be white shrift for such as me 
 In Heaven's mercy, I would crave it now ; 
 Though little of hope have I, if thou dost hear. 
 
 Hermit. Wouldst thou confess, my son, the church hath 
 To white the blackest sinner crawling foul [power 
 
 From earth's most sensuous cesspool, doth he but 
 Come in the earnest sorrow ot his heart 
 And lay his sins within her holy keeping. 
 But well I know that thou art that great Arthur, 
 The hope of all for succor to this realm : — 
 For other man hath never worn such grace 
 And nobleness of bearing as thou wearest. 
 Fear not my son, whatever be the sin . 
 Of thy hot youth, the past will be forgiven, 
 And holy Church will freely pardon one 
 And all the evil deeds that thou hast done. 
 
 Arthur. Father, my life is haunted with one thought 
 That comes between me and my sweetest hofjes. 
 
SC. 1.] V^^ ^ MORDRED. ' 
 
 
 In battle's clamor only will it pass, 
 
 But in my lonlier moments it comes in ; — 
 
 The awful memoiy of one heinous sin. ;^ a*^ 5^1 
 
 Hermit. Of truth thou hast suffered over much, my son. 
 What is thy sin ? 
 
 Arthur, One deed beyond all others of my youth. 
 Mad passionate and wild to savagery, 
 I violated a maid's sanctuary, , ., 
 
 And afterwards, I f()und,— O Christ forgive me ! ^^^, 
 
 Hermit. Say on ! - > s^*' 
 
 . Arthur. She was my sister ! ^'^''^M'Uy'C''X:'- 
 
 Hermit. Sancta Maria— Ora pro nobis ! '■■^'^'- ''^::m-. 
 
 . ' '■ '•«•,.- 
 
 Arthur. It will not out. The evil of that night - 
 
 When I, unknowing, did that awful deed. 
 Hath blackened all my future like a web. 
 And when men look up to me as their sun, 
 It makes my life seem like some whited tower. 
 Where all is foul and hideous hid within. 
 
 Hermit. Thou sayest truth, my son, thy sin be heavy. 
 
 [Crossing himself. 
 
 Arthur Oh swart, incestuous night whose bat-like wings 
 O'er-spread my life like thunder-gathering cloud. 
 When will thy dawn break glimmering on my soul ? 
 Or wilt thou drag thy weary length along 
 And spell thy moments out in hopeless years 
 Until thy black o'er-laps the black of death 
 In that dread journeying where all men go. 
 When all my dreams are spent and smouldered down 
 Like some far ruined sunset at life's ebb. 
 And hope deferred fades out in endless, sleep ? 
 O holy man forgive mine impious presence. 
 Thy blessed office naught availeth me. 
 
 Hermit. Nay son grieve not as one who hath no hope. 
 Though awsome be this youthful sin of thine, 
 Whose memory blurs thy loftier, holier dreams. 
 Let not this one sin lead thee to blaspheme 
 
4 ' MORDRED. [act I. 
 
 Thus ignorantly holy Church's power. 
 
 Thy very sorrow half absolveth thee. 
 
 In name of Him who blessed the dying thief, 
 
 I bid thee look no longer at thy past. 
 
 Which eateth like some canker at "hy heart, 
 
 Redeem thy past in deeds of future good ; 
 
 Deem'st thy high dreams were given thee for nought ? 
 
 There is a noble doom about thy face, 
 
 A writing writ of God that telleth me ' ' ' 
 
 That thou art not a common ordered man, 
 
 But one ordained as holy ones of old 
 
 For some great lofty cause. Lift up thy heart, 
 
 Earth hath a need of thee, thy people call. 
 
 Wrongs long unrighted, evils long unplucked, 
 
 AH cry to thee for judgment. Palsy not 
 
 The strength of ttiy great future brooding on 
 
 An indiscretion of thy savage past. 
 
 Arthur, And is it of God, Oh ! Father, thinkest thou ? 
 
 Hermit. Yea my son ; 
 As are all hope and sunshine. What is life — 
 But spring unmindful of bleak winter-time, 
 Joying in living, mindless of old death ; 
 Youth dead to sorrow, age to coming night. 
 Look up, forget thine evil, drink new faith 
 From this glad parable of the awakening year. 
 The church's arms are round thee, build new hope 
 In this poor Kingdom as the quickening year 
 Hath made this wrinkled earth forget old sorrows ; 
 Be this but thine to do, and thou art pardoned. 
 
 Arthur. Oh ! blessed be thy counsel, even now 
 Ifeel new joys run riot in my heart. 
 Old hopes long faded built on my high dreams ! 
 The old d^ead sorrow lightens, it is gone, 
 And I go forth a shrived soul even now. 
 Yea, hear me Father, now I consecrate 
 This my poor life to this great kingdom's weal. 
 And be my God but with me, I will raise 
 
SC, II.] MORDRED. 5 
 
 This head of sorrows out of clouds of ill, ; : / . 
 
 And build a splendor of my chastened will. 
 Thy blessing Father ! 
 
 Hermit. {Raises his hand in blessing.) Go forth from 
 Great Arthur keei)er of ihy people's peace. [hence 
 
 Go forth to right all wrong and guard all right. 
 In home and mart, in castle and in cot, 
 Meting the same to high and lowlv lot. 
 Go forth in name of God to build a realm 
 Built up on chastity and noble deeds, 
 Where womanhood is gentle and austere, ' 
 And manhood strong in its great innocence. 
 Go, blessed of God and all thy fellow men, 
 Go in the strength of thy most high resolve. 
 Thou wondrous soul unto thy wondrpus work, 
 The glory of all the after days to be. 
 
 Arthur. Amen ! Amen ! ! 
 
 SCENE II. — Camelot. ( Arthur crowned king.) 
 
 Enter Merlin and Mordred, a hunchback^ the Kings 
 illegitimate son. Outside a great clamor of voices is 
 heard of "Arthur ! Long live King Arthur." 
 
 Meriiji. Now tarry here aside while I prepare 
 The king for this thy filial audience. 
 
 Mordred. O mighty Merlin, I fear me all thine arts 
 That compass ocean, air, and deepest mine, 
 And have command of subtlest sciences, 
 Have never found the power to brew a charm, 
 A Sovereign draught of distillation rare, 
 To warm a Father's heart toward such as me. 
 
 Merlin. Thou much mistakest Mordred, he is noble. 
 This too-long thought on thine infirmity, 
 Hath made thy mind, which is as clear as glass, 
 Ensickly all things that it looks upon. 
 
6 MORDRED. [act I. 
 
 When Arthur, thy great father, knows his son, 
 His nobleness ot heart will plead with him, 
 And when he sees what I have seen in thee, 
 A subtle greatness of the inner spirit. 
 Greater than even 1, wise Merlin, have, 
 That prophesies a power for good or ill 
 Such as is rare mid men in this our age. 
 He will forget that outward lack of mould 
 In the strong, god-like, nobleness within. 
 
 Mofdred^ Ah Merlin, would my spirit thou wert right, 
 And I would show him such a son's true love, 
 And consecrate this subtlety within me, 
 To build a fence of safety round his glory. 
 But something tells me, some weird, evil doom, 
 That sits about my heart by day and night, 
 An awful presence that will never flit, 
 That he will never love me, yea, that more, 
 Of all things hateful to him on this earth, 
 My presence the most hateful. Oh great Mage, 
 I know that thou art skilful in thine age. 
 And subtle in all knowledges of lore. 
 But there lies in recesses of the heart, ' 
 That hath known bit*er sorrow such as mine, 
 A deeper wisdom intuition breeds. 
 That thou hast never sounded in thy lore. 
 
 Merlin. Hast thou ever seen this presence whereof thou 
 
 [speakest ? 
 
 Mordred. Yea, only as a look that haunteth faces. 
 
 Metlin. Faces ? 
 
 Mordred. I never saw it in my poor dog's face. 
 When he hath climbed my knees to lick my hand. 
 I never saw it in the mirrored peace 
 That brims the beauty of a forest pool ; — 
 Nor in the wise regard of mighty nature. 
 But in the face of man I oft have seen it. 
 
 Merlin. What hast thou seen, this wisdom would I know? 
 
SC. II,] MORDRED. 7 
 
 Mordred. I never saw it in thy look, O Mage, 
 But something sweeter, much akin, called pity, 
 But once I woke a flower-eyed little maid, 
 Who slumbered 'mid the daisies by a stream ; 
 She seemed the summer day incarnate there 
 With her sweet, innocent, unconscious face. 
 So like a flower herself amid the flowers ; 
 And I were lonely there in all that vast, 
 And thinking, ('twas only but a boy's light thought, 
 With some deep, other thought beyond mine age,) 
 To wake this human summer-morn to life, 
 And know this June-day conscious of its joy : 
 But when I bent and touched her on the arm, 
 I only woke a living terroi there 
 Of eyes and limbs that fled from my amaze. 
 I saw It once within the Priestman's face 
 The only and the last time I was shriven. 
 I have no need for shriving priestmen since. 
 My spirit tells me if they hold no power 
 To conjure out that devil in themselves. 
 That darting horror that offends mine eyes. 
 They ne'er can cast the devils trom this life, 
 And all their ^unts but jugglers' juggling; lies. 
 
 Merlin, Oh sad, warped youth^ aged before thy time, 
 With that worst, saddest of wisdonis on this earth, 
 The knowledge of thine own deformity ! 
 
 \trumpets without 
 
 Back Mordred ! here cometh the king ! 
 
 Enter Arthur in his state robes. 
 
 Arthur. And now wise Merlin, wisest of this earth, 
 Here cometh thine Arthur decked in his first glory, 
 So great hath been the splendor of this day 
 That all my heart brims with the wine of it. 
 
 Merlin. Yea Kin^, thy horn of glory doth enlarge, 
 Thy sun of splendor toppeth the future's marge, 
 May all bright auspices attend its setting. 
 
8 MOKDRED. [act I. 
 
 Arthur. And now wise Mage, what hath thy will with me ? 
 I am thine Arthur even being King, 
 For thou hast made me, next to that weird fate 
 That sat about the mystery of my getting, 
 And the sweet fostership of Holy Church, 
 Which halh forgiven ray great youthful sin 
 And set her seal of favor on my deeds. 
 All present splendors thou hast prophesied, 
 And made the people take me for their king. 
 Hast pointed out my fitness for this office, 
 And lifted Arthur from a cloud of sorrows 
 Unto the golden glories of a throne. 
 To-day the fealty of an hundred Earls 
 Which thou hast garnered to my new-made kingdom 
 Hath honored me and made me thrice a King. 
 Yea, well say Merlin that my horn is full 
 To plenty with the blessed hopes of earth, 
 And all of this I owe unto thy favor. 
 My thunder-clouds are past, my future clear 
 As yon, blue summer sky. No evil lurks 
 In secret for to strike at this my glory. 
 Unless a bolt fell from yon dazzling blue ! 
 
 [ Thunder heard in the distance — ARTHuil staggers back 
 A portent ! A portent ! 
 
 Merlin. 'Tis nought, O King, but gathering thunder- 
 About the thick, close heatings of the west, [heads 
 The muttered portent of a summer shower. 
 'Tis but a blackness that will quickly pass 
 And leave a blessing on the fields and woods. 
 Fear not such signs as nature's seeming anger. 
 I come to thee upon a graver matter. 
 
 Arthur. Yea Merlin ! speak on. 
 
 Merlin. Arthur, I speak now to no puling youth. 
 No mere sin-pricked conscience in a human form, 
 But bring a kingly matter to a king. 
 Whereof that he may do the kingliest deed 
 That he may hap on in the unknown lease 
 
SC. 11. ] MORDRED. 9 
 
 Of all his kingship. I have kept this matter, 
 The deepest and the dreadest concerning thee 
 And all the workings of thy coming fate, 
 Until the hour when thou didst feel thee king 
 In more than seeming outward human choice, 
 And thou wert at thy greatest, even that I, 
 In all his power, might see the King I made. 
 Not in all the glory of his court. 
 His people's laudings sounding in his ears. 
 Not in all the shout of battle victory ; 
 But in that dread and secret solemr hour. 
 When some strange doom uplifts its sombre face, 
 And man must show his kingship of himself. 
 
 Arthur. Yea Merlin ! say on Merlin, say on ! 
 
 Merlin. For this same reason I have hid till now 
 The secret from thee that thou hast a son. 
 
 Arthur. A son ! 
 
 Merlin. Yea, a son, by thine own sister. 
 
 Arthur. Oh cruel ! Oh cruel ! Oh cruel ! 
 
 Merlin. Yea more, for knowing all the warm desire 
 That thou hast unto things of beauteous shape, 
 And lovest chiefly what is glad and fair 
 To look upon in nature or human form. 
 Which, showest in thy love for Launcelot, — 
 
 Arthur. Yea, Launcelot ! Would a Launcelot were my 
 
 [son. 
 
 Mordred. {aside) Ah, me ! 
 
 Merlin. But knowing further that a deeper feeling. 
 That holdeth rule in every human heart, 
 That knoweth greatness, would uppermost in thee. 
 At knowledge of the fate of thy poor son, 
 Who madeth not himself but bore thy sin 
 In outward simile in his whole life's being, 
 As Christ did bear men's sins upon the tree ; 
 Who knowing all the ill that thou had'st done him, 
 
lO ' MORDRED. [act I. 
 
 Still had sufficient sense of inward greatness 
 
 To Icve the father who begat him thus ; 
 
 I feel if thou art that great Arthur dreamed 
 
 Of me these many years of toil and care 
 
 That I have worked to make thee what thou art ; 
 
 That knowing this son of thine, distorted, wry, 
 
 Diminutive in outward human shape, 
 
 And void of all those graces thou hast loved 
 
 To group about thy visions of thy court, 
 
 Hath such a soul within him like a jewel 
 
 In some enchanted casket, that were rare 
 
 In all the loie and wisdom of this age, 
 
 That thou wouldst love him only all the more 
 
 For that poor, wry, misshapen shell of his. 
 
 Arthur. Oh cruel ! cruel ! cruel ! 
 Merlin. Mordred come forth. 
 
 \Enter Mordred who kneels and tries to 
 cover himself with his cloak. 
 
 Arthur (Starts). What be this ? 
 
 Merlin. Thy son Mordred, the heir to thy realm ! 
 
 Arthur. Oh black angered Heaven ! (Falls heavily to 
 
 [the ground.) 
 
 Mordred. Father ! my father ! Merlin thou has killed my 
 
 Oh Merlin thou wert over-cruel ! [father. 
 
 Merlin. Better that he were dead a thousand deaths 
 Than this had happened. He is not a king 
 In more than vulgar fancy. In mine eyes 
 With all thy wry, distorted body there, 
 Thou art a thousand times more kingly now 
 Than he or any hke him in this realm. 
 And thou wilt be a king yet ere thou diest. 
 Oh Arthur, thou great Arthur of my dreams. 
 Why didst thou thus unthrone thee, showing bare 
 A thing of clay, where all seemed whitest marble? 
 
 Mordred. Ha ! now he revives. Father ! 
 
SC. II.] . MORDRED. 
 
 II 
 
 Arthur. (Rises and sfaf::ers.) Ha ! yea, yea, that cloud; 
 that cloud about mine eyes ! 
 My crown ! My crown ! Methought I had a crown ! 
 
 Merlin. Yea of a truth thou hadst one. 
 
 Arthur. And where be it, good father? 
 
 Mtrlin. Stumbling on sudden to the precipice of a golden 
 
 [opportunity, 
 Thou loosedst thy kingship and straightway it toppled over. 
 
 Arthur. And might we not make search, Father ? 
 Might we not take lights, lights, and go find it ? 
 
 Merlin. Not all the lights that light this glowing world 
 Might light thee to it. 
 
 Arthur. And who art thou that mocketh at me thus ? 
 
 Merltn. A shadow. 
 
 Arthur. And what be I ? 
 
 Merlin. In truth a shadow. 
 
 Arthur. And that, that blackness? 
 
 ^Pointing at Mordred. 
 
 Merlin. A shadow also, yea we all be shadows. 
 
 Arthur. And is there nothing real, nothing tangible in all 
 
 [this mist ? 
 
 Merlin. Nay, nothing, save the visions we have lost, 
 The autumn mornings with their frosty prime, 
 The dreams of youth like bells at eventime 
 Ringing their golden longings down the mist. 
 
 Arthur, And be we dead, Father? 
 
 Merlin. Yea, 1 am dead to one great hope I had, 
 And thou art dea'i to what thou mightst have been, 
 And he is dead to what is best of all, 
 The holiest blossom on life's golden tree. 
 
 Arthur, And what be that, Father? 
 Metlin. Love ! Lcvc ! 
 Arthur. Then he be greatest ? 
 
 Merlin. Yea greater, far, though we completed greatness^ 
 Than either thou or I could ever be. 
 
1 2 MORDRED. ^ [aCT r. 
 
 Arthur. Then what be he? 
 
 Merhn. He is that rare great blossom of ihis life 
 Which mortals call a man. 
 
 Arthur. A man ! 
 
 Merlin. Yea, a man. 
 
 Arthur. Why he is wry, distorted, short of shape, 
 Like some poor twisted root in human form. 
 And I am tall and fair, placed like a king. 
 And yet you make him greater, how be that ? 
 
 Merlin. Didst thou but own Goliath's mighty shape, 
 And wert a Balder in thy face and form. 
 With all of heaven's lightnings in thy gaze, 
 Still would his greatness dwarf thee. 
 
 Arthur. Then what be I ? 
 
 Merlin. The wreck of my poor hopes. 
 
 Arthur. The what? 
 
 Merlin. The shadow of a king. 
 
 Arthur. A nd where may be the king, if I be but the shadow? 
 
 Merlin. Gone ! Gone ! 
 He went out in his glory one bright morn, 
 In all the summer splendors long ago. 
 And there by well-heads of my youth's bright dreams, 
 Be-like he's walking yet. 
 
 Mordred. Oh ! Merlin wake him ! Thou art over cruel 
 To play thus on his fancy with thine arts. 
 
 Merlin. And dost thou love him still ? 
 
 Mordred. Yea, love is not a thing so lightly placed, 
 That it may perish easy. Thou mayst kill 
 The king in him, thou canst not kill the father. 
 Though thou mightst make me bitter to conspire 
 And topple his great kingdom round his head. 
 Yet I would ever love him 'neath it all. 
 The Arthur of thine ambitions may be dead. 
 But not the Arthur of my childhood's longing, 
 Though this poor King who hunteth his lost crown 
 
SC II.] MORDRED. '3 
 
 Be but the walking shape of all those dreams. 
 And temptest thou me, thou Merlin, thus to hate? 
 
 Merlin, Yea, Mordred, I am cruel, I am fate. 
 I tempt thee but to live, and dost thou live, 
 Enalienate from all this love of earth, 
 And they but crumble this phantom round their heads. 
 Thou art the key by which I may unlock 
 The lock that I have made with mine own hands. 
 And if thou ever want'st an instrument, 
 A dagf^er wherewith to stab this paltry realm, 
 Use Vivien. 
 
 Mordred. Vivien ! 
 
 Merlin. Yea Vivien. There is naught on all this earth 
 That cuts so sharp the thews of love and hate 
 And those poor brittle thongs that bind men up 
 In that strange bundle called society, 
 Like the sharp acids nature hath distilled 
 From out the foiled hates of an evil woman. 
 
 {To Ihe kins;.) Ho! ho! Arthur! Great King 
 Arthur. Knowest thou me, Merlin ? 
 
 Arthur. Yea, Merlin it is thou, and I the King, 
 Waking it seemeth from an evil dream. 
 
 Merlin. Yea, king we have all awakened. 
 
 Arthur. Ha ! where is my crown ? 
 
 Mordred. You dropped it when you fainted sire, 
 
 [^Kneels and presents it. 
 Here is thy crown, Father. 
 
 Arthur. Father! yea all, I know all now. It Cometh back. 
 And this my son ? Oh Merlin, had I known 
 That thou didst hate me and wouldst use me thus ! 
 
 Merlin. I hate thee not, King Arthur, nor do I love. 
 I loved an Arthur once, a phantom king. 
 Whom I did build on pinnacles of glory. 
 But he hath now long vanished, and I go, 
 Like many another who bath wrecked his hopes 
 On some false shore of human delusiveness, 
 
14 ' MORDRED. [act I. 
 
 To bury my pinch-beck jewels in that pit 
 
 That men call black oblivion. No, proud Arthur, 
 
 I am much over old for loves or hates, 
 
 My days are past, my mission done on earth, 
 
 I leave thee one here though, whose love or hate 
 
 Is more to thee than mine could ever be. 
 
 Twixt thee and him there are such subtle webs 
 
 Of destiny, it needeth no magician 
 
 To prophesy the running of those threads 
 
 That weave the warp of your two destinies. 
 
 Farewell Arthur ! Mordred, iare thee well. 
 
 Arthur. Stay, Stay, Merlin ! I have much need of thee. 
 
 \Exit Merlin. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Dagonet the Kind's fool. 
 
 Dagonet. Meseems this King is like an April week. 
 But yestermorn he was all smiles and sun, 
 And now he skulks and prowls and scowls and mopes. 
 As though existence were all a draggled pond 
 In dirty weather. 
 
 Enter Vivien. 
 
 Vivien. And thou fool, but a wry toad on its edge. 
 
 Dagonet. And thou the snake's head lifted in the sedge, 
 Aye, sweet Vivien. 
 
 Vivien. Why snakest thou me fool ? Methought that thou 
 
 [favoredst me ? 
 
 Dagonet. Aye, so I do. Thou coilest round my heart, 
 The sweetest, wisest serpent in this world. 
 Thou charmest me with those dazzling eyes o' thme. 
 And though the blessed bread were yet in mouth, 
 I'd go to Hell to do a deed for thee. 
 And yet thou art a snake, as well thou knowest. 
 Is it not so, sweet Vivien ? 
 
SC. III.] MORDRED. 15 
 
 Vivien. Can'st thou be wise for once Dagonet ? 
 Yea let me teach thee. 
 
 Dagonet. And what is it to be wise ? 
 
 Vivien. To leave aside that mummer's lightsome talk, 
 And show a front of silent dignity. 
 
 Dagonet. Like the King ? 
 
 Vivien. Aye, like the King. 
 
 Dagonet. Then to be wise is to be like the king, 
 To be a cup of summer wine today, 
 Anon a dish of lonesome woe to-morrow. 
 I love not much this wisdom thou dost teach, 
 These high come-ups and downs they like me not. 
 I am too much a fool to learn thy lesson, (sings.) 
 
 And who'd be wise 
 
 And full of sighs, 
 And care and evil borrow ; 
 
 When to be a fool 
 
 Is to go to school 
 To Happy-goluck to-morrow ? 
 
 Who'd tread the road, 
 
 And feel the goad, 
 And bear the sweatsome burden ; 
 
 When loves are light. 
 
 And paths are bright 
 Of folly's pleasant guerdon ? 
 
 Sigh while we may, 
 
 We cannot stay 
 The sun, nor hold its shining. 
 
 So joy the nonce, 
 
 We live but once. 
 And die for all our pining. 
 
 Who'd be a king 
 And wear a ring 
 And age his youth with sorrow ; 
 
l6 ' MORDRED. [act I. 
 
 When to be a fool 
 Is to go to school 
 To-Happy-go-luck-to-monow ? 
 
 Vivien. Aye Dagonet, thou art indeed a happy fool. 
 Will thou shew me how to make love ? 
 
 Dayonei. {Kneels in mock humility) Sweet Vivien, 1 am 
 
 [thy knight. 
 Vivien Is it all thou canst say ? 
 Dagonet. What would'st thou have more ? 
 Vivien. Oh lover's talk. 
 Dagonet. Thou meanest as lovers speak ? 
 Vivien. Yea. 
 
 Dagonet. After wedding or afore, sweet Vivien ? 
 Vivien. Afore, of course, stupid fool. 
 Dagonet. {Folds his hands and recites solemnly.) 
 
 Butter frups and mumble rings, 
 Whirligigs and winter-greens. 
 Turnip-tops and other things, I love thee ! 
 Spindle-spouts and turtles' eggs, 
 Mutton-chops and milk-stools' legs, 
 Heigh ho ! I love thee ! 
 
 Vivien. And now thou art the fool in earnest. 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, and the better lover. 
 
 Vivien. And what after wedding, thou wise fool ? 
 
 Dagonet. What saith the pot to the egg that is boiled 
 The floor to the mop that hath scrubbed it, [therein, 
 
 The rain to the moist earth, 
 And the bird's nest to the empty shell ? 
 Learn, and thou shalt find it. 
 
 Vivien. And had'st thou never a lover's longing. Fool ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, but I cured me. 
 
 Vivien. Wilt thou give me that receipt, Dagonet ? 
 
SC. IIl-l MORDRED. I? 
 
 Dagonet. 1 filled my mouth wi' honey, and my couch wi* 
 
 And went asleep on't. [prickles, 
 
 ( Vivieti laughs and retires behind the curtain.) 
 Dai>onet. Yea woe is me, is me, poor Da}i;onet ! 
 
 I hate myself and yet I fain must smile 
 
 And play the thistle-down and dandy-puff, 
 
 The foolish froth at edge of flagonets ; 
 
 And all the while see me a tortured torrent 
 
 Winding down in the darks of its own sorrow. 
 
 Yea, Dagonet, thou art too much of fool, 
 
 Like the great King and all other fools, 
 
 To be the thistle-down thou fain wouldst seem. 
 
 For thou art also anchored by the heels 
 
 To some sore, eating iron of thy desire. ^ 
 
 Enter King Arthur. 
 
 Arthur. Well fool, what mummeries now ? 
 
 Dagonet. I be holding a black Friday service, Sir King. 
 
 Arthur. And what sayest thou in thy supplfcations ? 
 
 Dagonet. I think on thee Sir King, and I think on poor 
 And I say, Lord have mercy upon us ! [Dagonet. 
 
 Arthur. A pious wish, Sir fool, but why pitiest thou me ? 
 
 Dagonet. For thy poverty, Sire ? 
 
 Arthur. Why poverty, fool ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea King, thou hast a crown, thou hast wealth, 
 And power and lands, and yet thou lackest 
 The cheapest commodity i' the whole world. 
 
 Arthur. And what be that, fool ? 
 
 • Dagonet. {Going out.) Sunshine, Sir King, that be the 
 
 [cheapest commodity. 
 
 Enter Launcelot. 
 
 Latincelot. Sire ! 
 
 Arthur. Launcelot sit here and let's forget 
 That I am king and thou the greatest knight 
 
1 8 ' ' MORDRED. [act I. 
 
 In this most mighty realm. Let us deem 
 Me but the Arthur of old days, and thou 
 The sutiny Launcelot who was fain to shrive • 
 His sorrowful Arthur from his darker moods, 
 And make a glow about the future's countenance. 
 
 Launcelot. Yea King, but methought thou sentest for me 
 
 [with most urgent commands. 
 
 Arthur. Yea, most urgent. 
 
 Launcelot. The knights and men-at-arms await below, 
 And all the splendid cortege thou hasl ordered, 
 •With tetinue befitting thy commands. 
 God's benison go with thee, great Arthur, > 
 
 This most auspicious day thou goeat forth 
 To meet the high .and beauteous Guinevere, 
 Thy chosen mate and queen of this fair realm. 
 
 Arthur. I go not forth ! 
 
 Launcelot. Thou goest not, and why ? 
 
 Arthur. Deem it not strange my Launcelot that I sit 
 Here thus disconsolate my betrothal morn, 
 Nor over eager for to play the lover, 
 And decked in splendor go to meet the queen. 
 Launcelot thine Arthur hath a sorrow. 
 Hast seen my son Mordred ? 
 
 I^auncelot. Yea Arthur, I have seen this Mordred. 
 Yea, mine Arthur, thou hast indeed a sorrow, 
 And could thy Launcelot but help thee bear it ! 
 
 Arthur. What thinkest thou of this Mordred, this my son ? 
 Likest thou him not ? 
 
 Launcelot. He is so strange, so small, so queer of limb, 
 At first I marvelled, then I pitied, then • 
 
 Arthur. Yea, and what ? 
 
 Launcelot. I met his eyes, and straightway I forgot 
 The manner of man he was, save that a soul 
 Of wondrous scorn and mystery met mine ; 
 That ffoze the present, made the future dread, 
 A^ith strange forbodings. While I mused he passed, 
 
SC. III.] MORDRED. IQ 
 
 But left that chill behind him in my blood. 
 And yet he seemeth a soul, Sire, to be pitied. 
 
 Arthur. Yea, all but pity, Arthur's son should claim. 
 
 Launcelot. 'Tis thy cross Arthur, as a king thou'lt bear it. 
 And we all seeing shall say our king, like Christ, 
 Beareth his cror. ' the sunlis;ht i' the shadow, 
 And take patter -om thy greatness. 
 
 Arthur, I beai not, Launcelot, it beareth me down, 
 Down into black ocpths, aye and blacker. 
 He cometh betwixt my spirit and the sun. 
 Canst thou not help thy king ? 
 
 I seem like one who walketh in dreams where all are shadows 
 Till I seem but a shadow-king walking in a realm of shadows. 
 
 Launcelot. Take courage to thee i\rthur, it will off, 
 Go in thy kingship's strength and meet thy queen. 
 Her beauty and her kindliness will cure thee 
 Of this distemper. 
 
 Arthur. Nay, Launcelot, this is the very matter. 
 As thou well knowest she hath never seen i!ie, 
 And for the very reverence I bear her, 
 A maiden princess, I would hold as snow 
 In each thing that regardeth purity. 
 By all th|£ love that I would bear to her, 
 1 would not have her meet me in this mood. 
 But I would have her meet her Arthur when 
 In kingly grace he is himself a king. 
 Yea, Launcelot for this I sent for thee. 
 'Tis mine intent that I should tarry here 
 And in the joustings cure me of this fit, 
 While thou dost go forth in my place and bring 
 The Princess Guinevere to Camelot. 
 
 Launcelot. Nay Sire, not I ! Not Launcelot ! 
 
 Arthur. By thy love for me, thou wilt do it. 
 Whom else in all this kingdom wide but thee 
 Could I send on a mission such as this. 
 I honor all thy love in sending thee. 
 The one true knight, the glory of my realm. 
 
20 
 
 MOKDRED. [act. I. 
 
 In this, Oh Launcelot, thou canst help thy king, 
 And show abroad the love that 'twixt us lies. 
 Till men will say: " So much of love there lies 
 Betwixt King Arthur and great Launcelot, 
 That when the king stayed ill at Camelot 
 He sent forth Launcelot to fetch the Queen." 
 And what more fitting messenger to send 
 Than thee in all thy strong and splendid youth, 
 The flower and sun of all my chivalry, 
 Launcelot the young and pure-in-heart. 
 Thou wilt do this and crown thy love for me. 
 
 Launcelot. Nay, mine own Arthur, men will rather say : 
 Why stayed the king, unkingly, thus at home. 
 And sent forth Launcelot to meet his bride ? 
 Oh Arthur, by my love, go forth thyself. 
 Rather thou sentest me sack a hundred cities 
 Than do this deed that will un-king thee so. 
 
 Arthur. Launcelot, I would rather die than go. 
 
 Launcelot. Y^ Arthur, I would rather die than go. 
 
 Arthur. Launcelot lovest thou thine Arthur ? 
 
 Launcelot. Yea Arthur, well thou knowest. 
 
 Arthur. Wilt thou honor me as a king ? 
 
 Launcelot. Yea to the death. ♦ 
 
 Arthur. Then the king commands that thou goest for the 
 
 , [love thou bearest x\rthur. 
 
 Launcelot. Yea Sire, I go. \aside\ And all fears go with 
 
 [me. 
 \CuTtain. 
 
 SCENE IV. — Leodegrance^s Castle at Cavielatd. 
 
 Enter Leodegrance and Pages. 
 
 Leo. Now is the day auspicious to my house 
 When Guinevere will wed the mighty Arthur. 
 Golden the mornings, happy speed the nights, 
 With constellations soft and wooing hours 
 
SC. IV.] MORDRED. 21 
 
 That speed the bride and bridegroom to their bowers. 
 Splendid be my prime and soft mine age, 
 Who am a father to this mighty realm. 
 Ho there, without ! 
 
 [ Trumpets heard y enter pages. 
 
 Page. Mighty Sire, with trumpet and with drum, 
 The lofty Arthur with his host hath come. 
 A world of spears and pennons fill the town, 
 And all the burghers feast their eyes with seeing. 
 
 [A clatter of arms without. Enter Launcelot 
 ivho kneels. 
 
 Launcelot. Sir King ! 
 
 Leo. Where tarries the great Prince Arthur? 
 
 Launcelot. He cometh not, my lord. 
 
 Leo. And why? 
 
 Launcelot. The king on sudden sick at Camelot 
 Hath sent me with his heart to Camelard 
 To plead his absence with thee and the Princess, 
 And guard her glad way forth to Camelot. 
 I am that Launcelot, that knight-at-arms, 
 Who loveth Arthur more than maid or king. 
 Perchance if thou wilt trust her to my care, — 
 Here is great Arthur's order. 
 
 \^Fresents a ring. 
 
 Leo. Welcome to Camelard, most noble knight. 
 Well ken we of thy name and nobleness. 
 It grieves us much great Arthur could not come, 
 And guest of our poor hospitality, 
 Receive our noble daughter at our hearth, 
 And lead her home from out our very doors. 
 This much perforce had willed a father's pride. 
 This much had satisfied a father's love. 
 But seeing Chance hath given us none of it. 
 We must be gracious to her messenger 
 And thank her for the safety she hath sent. 
 Tomorrow's dawn we give into thy hands 
 
22 - MORDRED. [aCT L 
 
 The maiden daughter of our kingly love, 
 To guard in safety to great Arthur's court, 
 There to be wedded as his faithful queen. 
 Meanwhile receive our hospitality. 
 This castle and this town are thine to-night 
 In honor of the Princess an^ the King. 
 
 Launcelot. We thank thee Sire for this thy hospitality. 
 
 Leo. Yea one thing further, knowing our daughter's 
 And fearing a maiden's pride might feel a hurt, [nature, 
 At the King's absence, we would therefore advise 
 That this be kept a secret till tomorrow, 
 When we will break it softly to Her Highness; 
 Though she hath never seen him, as thou knowest, 
 She now half loves him for his kingly virtues, 
 And being her father's daughter thinks it well 
 To act a daughter's just obedience. 
 She hath a wayward nature, 'tis a pride 
 We have in common, therefore we defer 
 This matter till tomorrow. 'T would not do 
 To let her sleep on such sharp disappointment. 
 
 Launcelot. As you will, noble lord. 
 
 \Curtain. 
 
 SCENE V. — The apartment of Guineverk— GuiNEVPiRE 
 and a lady attendant. 
 
 Guinevere. Now Unid I have seen this noble Arthur. 
 I spied him from my turret as he rode. 
 And all my heart went out in love to him. 
 The knight incarnate of my girlhood's dreams. 
 Did'st thou notice his bearing Unid ? 
 
 Unid. Yea my lady, and fairer man and nobler knight 
 Eye hath not seen. 
 
 Guin. His face was like the gardens when the sun 
 Lifts up his crimson splendor after dawn, 
 His bearing as the bearing of a god, 
 And yet as one who would be kind and loving. 
 
SC. v.] MORDRED 23 
 
 Unid. Yea, my lady, he seemed glad and fair, 
 And fit to be the lord to thee, my Princess. 
 
 Guin. Come Unid take my hand and we will sit 
 And speak of this great Arthur. Well thou knowest 
 My maiden fears regarding this same marriage. 
 I honored this Arthur as a noble king, 
 The mighty monarch and the splendid warrior. 
 And yet 1 fear him tor reputed coldness. 
 Thou knowest me a princess warm in blood, 
 Brim with fire and sweetness of this life, 
 Not fitted to be wedded to a statue, 
 A marble, though that marble be a king. 
 For something stirred my life-springs long ago, 
 And whispered, (iuinevere were made for love 
 And love alone would rule her destiny. 
 And when I looked and saw him enter there, 
 And knew my lord, and felt him gaze my way. 
 Knowing his errand to my father's hall, 
 I blushed me till mine inmost being burned. 
 And all the roses whispered, '* Arthur" ! "Arthur" ! 
 And " Arthur" ! " Arthur" ! rang through all the halls. 
 I wonder much if he will love me Unid ? 
 
 Unid. In sooth he must, my lady, be he noble. 
 Though he never saw thee, who but heard 
 Of all thy charms, my Princess Guinevere, 
 Could help but love thee when he seeth thy face ? 
 
 Guin. 'Tis in my mind to sound his manner, Unid. 
 To take him treacherous and unawares. 
 I like not much this way of wedding maids. 
 In cruel blindness ot their coming fate. 
 This marriage savoreth much of state affairs, 
 Even o'er much to please my noble fancy. 
 I would me much to see this royal lover. 
 And know with mine own senses if he loves 
 With that intense delight and war- nth of feeling, 
 With which poor Darby freely weddeth Joan. 
 Though I be all a queen I be a woman, 
 With all the thoughts and instincts of a woman. 
 
'24 ' MORDRED. [aCT I. 
 
 Unid. What would'st thou do, my lady ? 
 
 Guin. That I this eveti meet him in the garden. 
 
 Unid. On what pretence, my lady ? 'Twere a risky busi- 
 
 [ness 
 
 Guin. Thou wilt be veiled and take this golden ring, 
 Cozen his squire, and say, this for the knight 
 Who rode within the castle walls to-day. 
 Leave thou him word, a lady in distress, 
 Who needeth a knight to aid her in her sorrow. 
 Would meet him in the garden walls at sunset. 
 
 Unid. I will do it my lady, but what if he come not ? 
 
 Guin. No danger of his not coming if he be 
 The man I worshipped from my tower this morning. 
 He'd come were yon rose-plot enchanted ground, 
 And gated by a thousand belching fiends. 
 He'd come, my king ! Oh Unid, how I love him ! 
 
 SCENE VI. — A rose garden adjoining the Castle. 
 
 Enter Launcelot. 
 
 Launcelot. This is a sunset bower for lovers made. 
 The air seems faint with pale and ruddy bloom, 
 The red for rosy dreams, the white for pure 
 And holy maiden thoughts all unexpressed. 
 There hangs fatality upon this place. 
 I cannot shake its ague from my heart. 
 I would I were safe back in Camelot, 
 With this fair Guinevere, great Arthur's glory. 
 I'd rather meet the mad kerls of the Isles, 
 Than come again on such a quest as this. 
 This Guinevere they say is proud and cold, 
 Not such a woman as Launcelot would love. 
 Yea love, what doth it mean, and this strange maiden, 
 What can she want of me ? Aye, here she comes. 
 
SC. VI.] MORDRED. 25 
 
 Enter Guinevere, veiled. 
 
 Guin. My lord forgive this meeting in this place. 
 {Aside) O, if he like it not ! , 
 
 Launcelot. Wouldst thou ask mine aid ? 
 
 Gtiin^ Yea, wouldst thou aid a maiden in distress? 
 
 Launcelot. Lad)', all maidens have a right to a true 
 
 [knight's help. 
 Gui7i. My lord hast thou ever loved? 
 
 Laun. Many fair women have I seen, but none to love 
 Why askest thou me this ? [as thou meanest. 
 
 Guin. Wouldst thou fight for one like me? 
 
 \Tht owing aside her cloak. 
 
 Laun. (^Starts ind stands as one in a dream.) Fair lady ! 
 {Aside.) Kind heaven what be this? 
 In all my dreams I never saw such beauiy 
 Of woman's face or of a woman's form. 
 She fills my heait like combs of golden honey. 
 
 Guin. My lord, thou hast lost thy tongue. 
 {Aside) I had not dreamed this, 
 
 Laun. Fair lady, forgive my sudden lack of speech, 
 But never in my existence have I seen 
 Such loveliness and maiden grace as thine. 
 Yea, I would call it benison, could I stand, 
 And gaze upon thee as thou art, forever. 
 There's some fatality that draws me to thee, 
 Like I had known thee somewhere long ago. 
 
 Guin. My lord ! 
 
 Laun. Thou art all glory, all that this life is, 
 And all before but one poor pallid dream 
 Of this real living. Now I see thy face, 
 I know what heaven is and all delights 
 That erring mortals lost in Paradise. 
 
 Guin. My lord ! {Aside) Sweet heaven this be too blessed. 
 Laun. Fair maiden, Princess, lady, what thou art 
 Is what rd die for. In mine inmost heart 
 
26 MORDRED, [aCT I 
 
 Thou art inshrined. It seems some blessed dreim. 
 Thou art too beautiful for mortal maid, 
 And yet I feel thou art not all unkind, 
 Might I dare read love's missal in thine eyes. 
 
 Guin. Most noble lord, I came here for this purpose 
 To render my heart's being up to thee. 
 Deem not this act unmaidenly in one 
 Whose whole life's currents to thy being run. 
 My lord ! 
 
 Laun. It seems that we were never strangers. 
 
 \^Folds her in his arms and kisses her. 
 
 Guin. All life hath been but shaping up to this. 
 
 Laun. Oh could this sunset be but gold forever. 
 
 Guin, My lord Arthur ! 
 
 Laun. {Starts back.) Great God ! 
 
 Guin. Kiss me. Why Great God ? 
 Thou art my God when thy lips are so sweet. 
 
 Laun. Why calledst thou me Arthur ? 
 
 Guilt. And art thou not ? 
 
 Laun. Oh, who art thou that callest Arthur, lord? 
 
 Guin. As thou art Arthur, I am Guinevere. 
 
 [Launcelot starts bucu in horror. 
 
 Laun. Guinevere ! Oh hell make thick your murky 
 
 [curtains. 
 Day wake m more ! stars shrink your eye-hole lights, 
 And let this damned earth shrivel. 
 
 Guin. {Clutching his arm.) And art thou not great Arthur ? 
 Who art thou ? O God ! who art thou ? 
 
 Laun. Not Arthur, no ! but that damned Launcelot, 
 Who twixt his hell and Arthur's heaven hath got. 
 
 Guin. Then am I a doomed maid. 
 
 [Swoons. 
 
 Laun. Black, murky fiend of hell ! come in thy form 
 Most monstrous, give me age on ages here. 
 And I will clang with thee and all thine imps. 
 
SC. VI.] MORDRED. 27 
 
 Bind me in blackness under hell's foul nij2jht, 
 And it were nothing, after dream like this. 
 
 Guin. {Rising up.) Oh mercy ! damned or not, I love 
 
 [thee still. 
 
 Laun. Why doth not nature crack and groan ? 
 
 Guin. {Crawls to his Jeet). Oh be thou fiend or imp or 
 Thy kisses burn me even through this mist. [Launcelot. 
 
 Laun. Yea, thou dost move me as never woman hath 
 Oh would to God that we had never loved. [moved. 
 
 Then thou wouldst have been Guinevere, and I Launcelot. 
 
 (ituin. What be we now ? 
 
 Laun. Damned souls. 
 
 Guin. Then sweet, my love, it were thus to be damned. 
 
 Laun. Oh thou must go, proud Guinevere, tomorrow 
 Unto great Arthur's court and be his bride, 
 And I will be that olden Launcelot 
 In shape and seeming, though I hold a devil. 
 Oh never more, mine Arthur, will I look 
 With peace and frankness on thy noble face. 
 'Twixt thee and me a wall is builded up 
 Of hideous evil. Guinevere, my love, 
 We were damned long ago, and this be hell. 
 
 Guin. Oh most unfortunate me, thou art not Arthur, 
 And I am Guinevere and I have loved. 
 Though I go morrow morn to Camelot 
 And place my hand in his and pledge him mine. 
 Not all the clamor of glad abbey-bells, 
 Or heavenward incense, may kill out the fever 
 Of thy hot kisses on my burning lips. 
 I am not Arthur's. He is but a name, 
 A ringing doom that haunts me round the world. 
 Launcelot, we were wedded long ago 
 Before this life in some old Venus garden^ 
 And this brief meeting but re-memory 
 Awakening from some cursed doze of life 
 
a8 ' MORDRED. * [act I. 
 
 Unto this present glory of our love. 
 
 Thou wilt not leave me Launcelot, loveless lorn ? 
 
 Laun. Aye, this be hell ! 
 
 Guin. Aye, hell to me to be divorced from thee. 
 
 Lauii. Thou art betrothed to our great lord high Arthur, 
 And I that Arthur's trusted bosom friend. 
 And yet I'd kiss again thy honied lips, 
 Though Arthur's shadow flaming stood between. 
 I'm not an Adam to be driven out *• 
 
 With flaming brand from thy sweet paradise. 
 I'd hold thee Guinevere in these mine arms, 
 Though on each side, asqu^''' . a ''shalt not" stood. 
 I'd fight 'gainst all, aye Arthur, mine old self. 
 Oh Guinevere, this love hath made me mad. 
 Oh were't that all were changed in nature's course. 
 That I were not myself but some rude shape. 
 That thou wert not so sweet to look upon, 
 But sour and crabbed and old for Arthur's sake. 
 So that all might have gone the olden way. 
 
 Guin. Oh that this night might never pass away. 
 We and this garden here forever stay, 
 Von rising moon forever hold her crest 
 Above the fringed peace of yonder West, 
 These roses ever perfumed petals cast, 
 So that our love in its glad youth might last ; 
 No bleak to-morrows with their Arthurs come, 
 With evil waking to a sombre doom ; 
 No age, like autumn, wrinkling to decays, 
 Filled with sad hauntings of gone yesterdays. 
 
 [Curtain. 
 
ACT II. 
 
 SCENE l.—The JoreHt of Bradimule. 
 
 Enter Merlin and Vivien. 
 
 Merlin. Tarry we here, for I am fain for rest. [sMs down. 
 Oh mighty Slumber, sweet Oblivion, 
 Make this day night and seal my sleep-ward eyes ; 
 And bear me in thy light and feathery bark 
 For 1 am over-weary of this world. 
 
 Vivien. Give me the book of charms wherein is written 
 The power whereof that I may guard thy rest. 
 
 [Mer/in gives her the book. 
 Merlin. Thou hast poor Merlin on the weaker side. 
 
 \He sleeps. 
 
 -,. . ^, ^ [Vivien mutters the charm. 
 
 Vivten. Sleep ! Sleep ! [Merlin tries to aivaken. 
 
 Merlin. Ho ! Ho ! a mountain lieth on me. Take ofif 
 
 TT • Tx . • , ^ [^^'s mountain ! 
 
 Ha ! Ha ! mine olden power, and thou art gone at last ! 
 
 [Tries to rise. 
 Vivien. {Mutters charm.) Sleep .'" Sleep ! 
 
 Merlin. Methought it thundered, and a drop of rain 
 -tell on my forehead. 
 
 Vivien. Sleep ! Sleep ! 
 
 Spirit of slumber, rise from thy dark caves! 
 
 {The spirit of sleep rises up as a 
 
 ,,, ^. . . , S^O' »iist and lootns about. 
 
 Wrap him in thy shadowy embrace 
 
 And bind him in thy filmy, silken bonds 
 A thousand ages. 
 
 Merlin. Oh light, thou goest out ! {Sinks again. 
 
 Vivien. Come, black Oblivion, from thy shadowy tomb ! 
 
 [ The spirit of oblivion rises as a black smoke. 
 
30 MORDRIiU. [act II. 
 
 Shroud hini in ihy swart and deep embrace 
 A thousand ages. Bind his senses last. 
 Make him all droppings of a foul decay. 
 
 [Mkri.in moans and sinks in sleep 
 [ViviKN 7veaves paces about him. Spirits rise 
 afid wind him in a grey and black smoke. 
 Sleep hke any rock or clod of earth, 
 Thou coffin that enclosed a human soul. 
 The bhnd, dull years take never note of thee, 
 For thou art part and parcel of the past. 
 Now Arthur, that thy great right hand is gone, 
 Vivien the devil backs to Camelot, 
 Vivien the scorned, the dust betwixt thy feet. 
 Doth back to Camelot where vengeance waits. 
 I am resolved to be the villain dire. 
 And cunning devil of this present play, 
 'i'hen hence to Camelot to achieve mine end. 
 ril shadow VTordred, work upon his ill, 
 And mould him creature to my devil's will. 
 
 [^Cuttain. 
 
 SCENE II.— Castle at Camelot. 
 
 Enter Mordred. 
 
 Mordred. Two roads there are for me in this dark world, 
 Both shadowed by the gloom of haunted groves. 
 One leads to quiet and kind nature's peace. 
 I'm part inclined to joiti a brotherhood, 
 Composed of nature and mine inward thoughts, 
 And take my shadow from this damned court. 
 Where so much ill begins to lift its head. 
 The other road leads to no happiness ; 
 But dark ambition — it lowers about my brain, 
 And hatred at the scorn of human eyes. 
 Yea, I am half resolved to be a man, 
 And take a part in this poor shifty world. 
 And help to pull the ropes behind the scenes 
 That aid the puppets to their forced parts. 
 
SC II.] iMOKDREL). jj 
 
 Yea, sooth indeed that Vivien hath a devil, 
 But It is such a sweet and clever devil, 
 I cannot help but take it to mine arms. 
 She hath a counsel toward the stormier part. 
 She puts her little foot on tate's grim head, 
 And harks it hiss. I am persuaded much 
 To make a stir to remedy my wrongs. 
 And yet my loftier nature cries me no. 
 Oh ! Mordred, what art thou, mis-shapen devil ? 
 Thou wilt be sweet as Launcelot in the grave. 
 Though thou canst never smile on Guinevere, 
 Or other star of brightness, stand by Arthur 
 Like lofty pine i.hat girds the hills of snow. 
 Yea, I am half constrained to be a devil, 
 And tike this mighty kingdom by the walls. 
 And shake it till its deep foundations thunder. 
 There is no love for Mordred in these precincts ; 
 Took he the lonely road tomorrow morn, 
 They'd cover his face and laugh the world along, 
 Unmindful of his setting. 
 
 Enter Vivien. 
 
 Viviett. Nay not so, there are two as would grieve thee. 
 
 Mordred, Aye, two ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, two, I and thy dog. 
 
 Mordred Yea sooth would grieve my poor four-footed 
 Better that Mordred had been got a dog, [beast. 
 
 With four good legs and strength of limbs and back, 
 A pattern to his species, than be thus 
 A blot on all the beauty of his kind. 
 Vivien, 1 would that I were shelved in earth. 
 
 Vivien. Doubtest thou my love ? 
 
 Mordred. Thou art a strange and subtle human mixture 
 Of cleverness and charm and swift deceit, 
 And yet I like thee, though thou voicest me 
 Upon the evil longings of my nature. 
 What canst thou love in me ? 
 
32 MORDKKD. [aCT. H. 
 
 Vivien. Yea all of thee, not thy mis-shapen body, 
 But thy deep, precious mind, thy spirit rare, 
 That patent greatness seated on thy brow 
 Wherefore I'd see thee lift this Arthur down. 
 And show thy kingship on thy rightful throne. 
 Thou hast a grievance against this callous world, 
 If ever man were saddled by grim woe. 
 
 Enter Launcelot at left^ j'oUowed by Guinevere. 
 
 And here doth come the way as will help thee to it. 
 
 \^Pulls MoRDkED hack into the shadoiv. 
 
 Laun. {Comes fonvard followed by Guinevere.) 
 My dearest lady why wilt tempt me thus ? 
 Thou art the rightful, wedded spouse of Arthur. 
 
 Guin. (Kneels.) Oh ! Launcelot thou hast damned me 
 
 [with thy beauty. 
 I am no more the rightful wife of Arthur, 
 I cannot live without thee, Launcelot 
 
 Laun. Lady, this stolen sweetness is a hell. 
 I am no more the Launcelot that I was. 
 Nor would I be that Launcelot for high Heaven. 
 
 [Both pass on. 
 Vivien. {Aside to Mordred.) These words are rungs by 
 
 [which to build thy ladder. 
 Over the ruins of this doomed kingdom. 
 
 Mordred. I cannot play thus on my father's shame. 
 Even thoui^h he hate me. I would rather go 
 And bury my sorrows in a hermit's grave 
 Than build a power upon this human folly. 
 Even these twain, my heart doth pity them. 
 Not all their beauty hath kept them from this hell. 
 
 Vivien. Hast thou no pride. Prince Mordred ? 
 Yea, wait a breath, I'll show thy wrongs too deep 
 To languish in a monkish wilderness. 
 What hast thy soul to do with weeds and turf ? 
 Assert thy greatness or else kill thyself. 
 Thou art not fit to cumber this flat earth 
 If thou canst not assert thy dignity. * 
 
SC. II.] MORDRED. • 33 
 
 Were I mis-shapen o'er a thousand times, 
 Had but one eye, a wen uj^on my neck, 
 And swart and foul as foulest Caliban, 
 And were a man, I'd make my kingship felt — 
 So all should fear the God that looked a devil. 
 
 Mordred. Where'er thou comest from, thou comest not 
 
 [from Heaven. 
 
 Vivien. Yea, vvhat cometh down from Heaven is not for 
 
 [such as thee. 
 The day doth come when thou wilt call on me. 
 
 Re-efiter Ouinkvere alone. 
 
 Vivien. Stay lady, I would speak with thee. 
 
 Guin. What art thou, woman ? 
 
 Vivien. I am a maiden here about tny court, 
 Of whom 'tis said that she did love great Arthur, 
 Our high, lord Arthur, whom thou lovest so well ; 
 If this be ray poor crime, forgive me lady, 
 Seeing thou thyself art happier in the same. 
 Thou art the splendid moon to his great planet, 
 And we but stars that vanish at thy rising 
 
 Guin. What wouldst thou with me? 
 
 Vivien. I would bring unto thy notice one, 
 Wronged of nature and his human kind, 
 Knowing where thine admiration stopped, 
 Might follow thy pity. 
 
 Mordred. Nay, all but pity. Pity is such a gift 
 That all the world would grant it, none receive. 
 Grant me thy scorn, lady, but withold thy pity. 
 Thou mightst pity a horse or dog or fowl, 
 But man of rarest compounds moulded up, 
 And standing on foundations of a soul, 
 Hath too much of the god within him hid 
 To need such shallow, cold, inclement gifts. 
 Your pities would freeze the ic^d heart of winter 
 Colder within its breast. 
 
34 - • MGRDRED. [aCT II. 
 
 Gi4in. And what art thou, strange heap, that speakest 
 
 [thus unto the queen. 
 
 Mordred. Madam, I am one who through this world, 
 Goeth by ways of sorrow and mishap. 
 Knowest me not. Madam ? 
 
 Guin, Thou seemest like some gloomier Dagonet, 
 Wearing the proud black of some mock tragedy. 
 Art thou another fool ? 
 
 Vivien. {Aside.) Ah ! that will touch him. 
 
 Mordred. A fool. Madam! Callest thou Mordred a fool? 
 Takest thou him for one who juggles for a court ? 
 A football for the passing to merriment. 
 Forgotten ere his wit hath passed to sadness. 
 Because I wear mis-nature on my form, 
 Knowest thou not the son of Britain's king ? 
 
 Guin. I know thee not, save that thou art insolent. 
 Pass ! You bar my way. 
 
 Mordred. Is there so little in this royalty 
 That men know not a king when he goes forth ? 
 When that great Arthur thou callest lord goes out, 
 I tell thee. Madam, I am Britain's king. 
 
 Guin. Enough insolent ! is it some mock tragedy 
 Thou playest ? Or art thou mad ? 
 
 Mordred. Madam though thou wert thousand times a 
 The day will come when thou wilt eat those words [queen, 
 With the salt rue of utter wretchedness. 
 
 Vivien. {Aside). He hath awakened at last. 
 
 Enter Launcelot. 
 
 Guin. Dost threaten thy queen ? Make way, monster ! 
 
 ^ Laun. {Rushing Jorwatd). Dost thou insult the Queen? 
 
 Mordred. Nay, not as thou hast insulted great Arthur's wife. 
 
 Laun. Toad ! abortion ! take that, and that. {Beats him 
 
 [with the flat of his sword. 
 
SC. II.] MORDRED. ' 35 
 
 Mordred. {Starting back and drawing). Thou hast slain 
 
 [pity and peace forever. 
 Come on ! adulterous knight, and each foul stroke 
 Dishonoring my poor back, I'll pay with hate 
 To fullest usury. {They dosv). 
 
 [Launcelot disarms Mordred. 
 
 Laun. There go, Mis-shapen, Wert thou not a Prince, 
 I'd teach thee manners toward thy father's wife ; 
 Wert thou a man, and not that which thou art, 
 With this quick blade I'd stop thy craven heart. 
 
 Mordred. There is nought more to do but to slay me. 
 {Bares his breast.) Slay me ere I kill myself. 
 
 Vivien. Nay ! Nay ! 
 
 Laun. Kill thyself. Prince, Launcelot fights with men ! 
 
 {To the Queen.) I will follow you, my lady. 
 
 Exit Launcelot and the Queen. 
 
 Mordred. {Flings his iworj aioay.) All sweet compas- 
 
 [sions, pityings and resolves 
 That dwelt in Mordred's breast are slain at last, 
 Slain by a woman's scorn, a man's brutality. 
 A last good-bye to all my gladder thoughts. 
 And hail dark vengeance, plots and evil counsels. 
 Mordred is mis-shapen, then will he breed chaos. 
 Mordred is monstrous, then will he breed horrors. 
 Mordred is dark, then will he cast a shadow, 
 That ne'er shall loose this kingdom's light again. 
 
 \^Curtain. 
 
 SCENE \\l.— Another part of the Castle. 
 
 Enter Vivien. 
 
 Vivien. Now for the plot to bring this kingdom down. 
 I've racked my wits. Yea, I have got a plan. 
 Ho 1 here comes Mordred. 
 
36 ' MORDRED. [act II. 
 
 Enter Mordred. 
 
 Art thou resolved to put it to an issue ? 
 Or art thou craven ? 
 
 Mordred. Yea I am all determination now. 
 Compunction's dead. Yea, I am over-tired 
 Of playing the wart upon the hand of time. 
 But am resolved to be that hand itself, 
 And move the issues of this foolish world. 
 
 Vivien. What is thy plot ? 
 
 Mordred. To hold the world at bay. 
 
 Vivien. 'Tis too vague. 
 
 Mordred. Yea all this life is vague till evil shrinks 
 The vistas of our longings down to lusts. 
 My plot is this, to reach this kingdom by 
 The sinister door that opens to Launcelot. 
 
 Vivien. Yea, 'tis my thought. 
 
 Mordred. To catch the queen in her own guilty net, 
 Then open her shame to all the ga[)ing world. 
 'Twill bring great Arthur's glory by the walls, 
 With thunder and smoke of splendor to the ground. 
 Launcelot is half of Arthur's greatness. 
 And when he hateth Launcelot for the Queen, 
 This house of majesty will rend itself, 
 And Mordred be the raven in the smoke, 
 Flapping his wings across it's desolation. 
 
 Vivien. Yea, then will my hate, — my love, — 
 
 Mordred. Nay woman do not speak of hates or loves 
 Or other foolish human hearted moods 
 Of man's poor weakness, nay, but steel thyself 
 To be an engine ot the crushing fates ; 
 For he vho would be powerful must be iron 
 And adariant amid this cruel world, 
 Knowing not heat nor cold, remorse nor shame, 
 Doing the deed that cometh to his hand. 
 But we must have a care and watch and wait 
 And bait the trap and lay the springe and mine. • 
 
SC. III.] MORDRED. * 37 
 
 Not such a greatness crumbles in a day. 
 Much might be lost by hastening the issue. 
 Some one must work upon the moody king 
 And mould him softly, cunningly to knowledge 
 Of his cuckoldship. It must be deftly done, 
 Or like spark o' the powder, it would send 
 Our plottings and hopings out o' the skyhole. 
 Vivien. It is well. 
 
 Mordred. Meanwhile we watch "the Queen and Launcelot, 
 Each action, aye, the changing of their faces ; 
 Till knowledge be garnered of their secret commerce. 
 Who will approach the King ? 
 
 Da gone t. {Heard without singing.) 
 
 Morning her face is, 
 Blue seas her eyes. 
 All of earth's sweetness 
 In their light lies. 
 
 Coral her lips are. 
 Red reefs of doom, 
 There do Love's ships drive, 
 Down to their doom. 
 
 Vivien, Leave it to me, here cometh one who may work 
 
 [the matter. 
 Mordred. Who be it ? Not the fool ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, the fool ! He is not all surface, he is deep* 
 Yea, deep for me. 
 
 Mordred. May he be trusted ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, like one who is in love. 
 Leave me Prince, I would sound him. 
 
 Dagonet. {Enters singing.) 
 
 There would I shipwreck, 
 Swooning to death, 
 Passing to darkness 
 
 On the winds of her breath, [^a:// Mordred. 
 Ho Vivien ! * 
 
38 ' * MORDRED. [act 11 
 
 Vivien. Well fool, and what wert thou singing ? 
 
 Dagonet 'Twas but a fool's carol. 
 
 Vivien. If thou wert not a fool I would say thou wert 
 
 [in love. 
 Dagonet. (Starts ) Well guessed, Vivien. 
 And by Our Lady, thou art in the right of it. 
 
 Vivien. And who might be the object, sir Fool ? 
 
 Dagonet. Madam, I am deep in love with three mistres- 
 
 [ses. 
 To wit, the past, the present, and the future. 
 
 Vivien. And how be that, Fool ? * 
 
 Dagonet. The first be ray breakfast which I have had, 
 The second my dinner which I have just eaten, 
 And the third be my supper, which like the moirovv 
 Is the more joyful as yet to come. 
 
 Vivien. Wouldst thou do me a favor ? 
 
 Dai^onet. What be it ? 
 
 Vivien. Dost thou love the king ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea that I do, though he be sometimes like a 
 Spoiled on the weather-side. Ls**^^^ child, 
 
 There be 'something grieves him. 
 
 Vivien. Yea, well hath he cause to grieve ! 
 
 Daoonet. Thou dost say so ! What be the cause ? 
 
 Vivien. The queen. 
 
 Dagonet. Why, Lhe be well favored ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, but treacherous. 
 
 Dagonet. Aye, knowest thou that ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, and more ! 
 
 Dagonet. Then is hell come on earth I 
 What wilt have me do ? 
 
 Vivien. I would have thee warn the king. 
 
 Dagonet. The king 1 
 
 Vivien. Yea, the king. " 
 
SC. III.] MORDRED. 39 
 
 Dngofiet. As well ask the cricket to pipe for the thundcr- 
 Dost thou crave my destruction so dearly ? [storm. 
 
 Vivien. Thou alone canst do it and survive, 
 Thou art of so little worth in his estimation, 
 And thou must. 
 
 Dagonrt. Yea, Vivien, I will. Oh poor world, 
 Where e'en royalty cannot 'scape the blight ! 
 God save us all ! I will e'en commence now. 
 Here cometh the king. \Extt Vivien. 
 
 King enters at the left. 
 
 Dagonet. Though she bade me hellward, I will obey. 
 But what evilment is abroad now. 
 That would I know ? There's something back o' this. 
 The king a cuckold ! Then Heaven help us all ! 
 I would this were dispatched, yet how to do it, 
 Passeth mine understanding. 
 
 Arthur. Well, sir Fool, 
 Hast a merry message for my heart to-day ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea Sire. 
 
 Arthur. Then mouth it, Fool. 
 
 Dagonet. He who cometh to the wall hath crossed the 
 last ditch. 
 
 Arthur. Thine is but grim comfort. Fool. 
 
 Dagonet. Then is it thine, Kina;, and he who garners not 
 Can laugh with death, [i' the morning 
 
 Arthur. Indeed thou art over-weird. 
 Come, play me a masque. 
 
 Dagonet. A masque, Sire ! Should it be merry ? 
 
 Arthur. Aye, merry, or thou ruest it ! 
 
 Dagonet. Here be a comedy, Sire ; — 
 There be a king. Sire ; — 
 
 Arthur. Yea. 
 
 Dagonet. And there be a queen. Sire, 
 And there be a bishop — nay, a knight. 
 
4© MORDRED. [act II. 
 
 Arthur. And what then ? 
 
 Dafjonet. The knight taketh the queen ! 
 
 Arthur. And the king, Fool ? 
 
 Dagonet. Oh he be fools-mated ! ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Arthur. And where be the comedy, Fool ? 
 
 Dagoiict. Oh the iiends laugh 1' the pit, 
 That be the comedy, ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Arthur. Ha ! hast thou a moral? 
 
 Dagonet Nay, not a moral, Sire ! Morals be not in it. 
 
 Arthur. Thou art but a wry fool to day. 
 
 Dagonet. (Aside.) My plan faileth. 
 {To the king.) Yea Sire, I passed an uncommon sorry night. 
 
 Arthur. How fool ? 
 
 Dagonet. I dreamed of thee, Sire, and as I love thee, 
 I liked it not. 
 
 Arthur. What was thy dream ? 
 
 Dagonet. I dreamed I saw thee stand, and back of thee 
 A great blackness, that thou sawest not, 
 And from the shadow loomed — pardon me Sire — the queen 
 And — and — 
 
 Arthur. Ha, and what ? 
 
 Dagonet. Forgive thy poor fool, Sire, but methought I 
 
 [saw Sir Launcelot. 
 
 Arthur. {In a terrible passion.) Heaven damn thee, beast ! 
 {Knocks Dagonet down and would throttle him.) [scum ! 
 Did the greats -t knight 'i this kingdom 
 Dare even dream such a thought, I would hack him to earth. 
 
 Dagonet. Slay me, great Arthur, but forgive thy fool. 
 
 Arthur. Knowest thou not thou hast slandered the whole 
 
 [realm ? 
 Dagonet. I am but a poor fool, Sire. 
 
 Enter Gwaine, a tall clumsy youth in scullion's dress. 
 
 Arthur. Who art thou ? 
 
SC. 111.] MORDRED. 4I 
 
 Gwaine. Thou must lell me. 
 
 # 
 
 Arthur. I am the king. 
 
 Gwaine. Art thou ? Thou lookest hke one. 
 
 Arthur. Whence comest thou ? 
 
 Gwaine. I came out o' the marches yestermorn, 
 Where I served my father i' the bogs, 
 Intentioning to be a knight, 
 And they put me down in the kitchen. 
 
 Arthiir. Thou vvouldst be a knight? 
 
 Givaine. Yea ! 
 
 Arthur. And vvnerefore ? 
 
 Gwaine. That I might serve the king. 
 
 Arthur. Thou wouldst serve me ? 
 
 Gzuaine. That I would. 
 
 Arthur. {Loosening Dagonet ) Then hang yonder imp i' 
 
 [the crane over the castle wall. 
 Gwaine. Come, rat ! {lifts Dagonet and hangs him on 
 
 [the crane.) 
 Dagonet. Oh, Oh, the shame ! 
 
 Gwaine. Hath such as thou shame ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, I house me a soul. 
 
 Gwame. Then -is it poorly lodged, {fsi^oes out.) 
 
 Arthur. {Strides back and forth) Yea a fool! — worse 
 
 [than a fool ! 
 Arthur, why wilt thou shame thyself even in thought ? 
 Out damned suspicion, that insulteth my dignity ! 
 
 Enter Guinevere. 
 
 Arthur. Madam, I would entreat thy pardon ! 
 
 Guin. Wherefore my lord ? 
 
 Arthur. For a thought. Guinevere, I am unworthy of 
 thy queenliness. 
 
 Guin. Nay, nay my lord, not so. I am but flesh and 
 blood. 
 
42 • MORDRED. [aCT II. 
 
 Arthur. Thou art a Queen ! 
 
 Guin. Yea, and a weak woman. 
 
 Arthur. It seemelh we be strangers even yet. 
 
 Guin. Aye, my lord. 
 
 Arthur. Thou art cold, Madam, and I like that iciness. 
 It well becometh the left side of this whiteness I uphold. 
 What wotildst with Arthur, this morning, my Queen ? 
 
 Guin. I would know of the tournament thou hast in 
 
 [hand. 
 
 Arthur, Yea, the tournament ! — the tournament ! 
 I fear I am over moody and forgetful at times. 
 Hast thou seen Launcelot ? 
 
 Guin. {Starts.) Why Launcelot, my lord ? He is not the 
 
 King. 
 Arthur. Yea, not the king, but he hath charge of such 
 
 [matters. 
 Knowest thou my lady, that Arthur loveth Launcelot. 
 Yea, had Arthur a brother or a son, would he were Launce 
 
 [lot. 
 And were Launcelot evil, the Heavens would distil poison^ 
 
 Guin. Yea, my lord, but thou forgetest the tourney. 
 
 ^rM/^r. Heralds have been sent out and from all parts of 
 
 [the kingdom. 
 Jousts are invited, with strange and wondrous tests. 
 
 Re-enter Gwaine. 
 
 Givaine. Well, what next? 
 
 Arthur. Sirrah ! the Queen ! 
 
 Gwaine. {Doffs his cap.) Morrow, Madam. 
 
 Arthur. To your knees ! by my blade, to your knees ! 
 
 Gwaine. By my legs, I am no lick-spittle to claw the 
 Kneel to your own woman, I'll to none. [earth. 
 
 Arthur. Death ! down on your life ! {Draws.) 
 
 Guin. Nay, nay he will kneel. 
 
 Gwaine. Not he, King or other man, I can crack a neck. 
 
SC. III.] MORDRKI). 43 
 
 Come on, give me a quarteistaff and I'll knock your 
 Kings like nine-pins. 
 
 Gnifi. {Gets between.) Nay ! nay ! 
 
 Atihur. Wilt thou kneel ? 
 
 Qivaine. I will fight, but I will not kneel. 
 Not to mine own mother, Gwaine is honest but a i)lain man. 
 
 Guin. And thou shalt not kneel, if thou wilt not. 
 Thou art well favored, had'st thou manners. 
 
 Uwaine. Manners, Madam, like fine feathers, 
 But hide the lice 'i the bird. 
 Gwaine loveth acts not appearances. 
 
 Arthur. Madam, wilt thou that I make him kneel ? 
 
 Uui7i. Nay, but grant his wish. 
 
 Arthur. What wilt thou, knave ? 
 
 Gwaine. That I be made a knight. 
 
 Arthur. Thou must kneel to be knighted. 
 
 Gwaine. Not to man. 
 
 Arthur. To thy God, then. 
 
 Gwaine. So be it, if it must. {Kneels.) 
 
 Arthur. What be thy name ? 
 
 Gwaine. They called me Gwaine 'i the Marches. 
 
 Arthur. Lifts his sword.) 
 
 Gwaine. {Leaps to his feet.) Wouldst thou hit a man 
 
 [when he is down ? 
 
 Arthur. I would knight thee, clown, 'Tis the mode. 
 
 Givaine. Oh ! but be careful King 'i the doing. {Kneels^ 
 
 Arthur. Art thou of noble blood ? 
 
 Gwaine. Dost thou mean honest — Gwaine is plain, if thou 
 [meanest 'i the getting, no one can call Gwaine's mother 
 
 [a whore. 
 
 Arthur. {Raises his sword and strikes him with the flat on 
 [the shoulder.) Rise. Sir Gwaine. 
 
44 ' MOKDRja). [act II. 
 
 (hvaine. {Rises.) Is it done, King? 
 
 Arthur It is- in sooth. 
 
 (iwaine. Then King am I thine, hut yours first, Madam. 
 Gwaine is plain hut honest, I would have a sword. King. 
 
 Arthur. Go, get thee one. 
 
 Gwaine, Dost thou mean it, King ? 
 
 Arthur. Yea. 
 
 (Swaine. (Goifig to the Arras and ta/ci/ij^' one down pro- 
 \<:eeds to buckle it en.) Then this one pleaseth me. 
 
 Guin. Stop, knight ! 'Tis the king's. 
 
 Gwaine. Then will it be the king's still. {Goes out.) 
 
 Arthur. What more wouldst thou with me, my lady ? 
 
 Guin. I would speak of one Mordred. 
 
 Arthur. My son ! what of him ? 
 
 Guin. My lord, I wquld have him banished the Court. 
 He is sinister on my sight and exceeding forward. 
 I like him not, wilt thou promise ? 
 
 Arthur. It is a heavy matter. We will consider it. 
 
 SCENE IV. — Enter Elaine and her retinue. 
 
 A Squire. Lady, this is the place, we will retire. 
 Within short space the Queen doth come this way. 
 
 [Exit all except Elaine. 
 
 Elaine. They say she is all goodness, she will grant 
 That I may meet this noble knight and fair. 
 And know my love returned, or else I die. 
 
 Enter CjUI^^vrky. and ladies. 
 
 Guin. Lady, what wouldst thou ? {Elaine kneels.) 
 
 Elaine. Oh most noble lady, I am a maid, 
 Called Elaine, daughter unto Astolat's lord. 
 Who cometh unto thee, Madam, for kind help 
 Upon the matter of a maiden's love. 
 
5C. v.] MORDRED. 45 
 
 It rendelh me so, unless it be returned 
 My heart will burst in twain, and I will die. 
 
 Guin. Maiden, thy tale is sad, be thy quest pure, 
 The queen will help thee, be thy person wronged, 
 By Arthur's mighty kingdom, thou art 'venged. 
 
 Elaine. Nay Madam, Elaine's love is white and pure, 
 And he she loves is noble as any knight 
 In all this kingdom. Forgive my boldness, Madam, 
 And by that love thou bearest to the king, 
 Our great lord, high Arthur, help me now,, 
 And biing me to the face of him I love. 
 
 Guin. Of truth, thou hast a boldness in thy love. 
 (Aside,) There is an innocence in this fair maid 
 Doth make me pity her, so deep in love 
 For some false face that made a summer toy 
 Of her frank passion. Yea, I pity her. 
 (To Elaine.) Maiden, to-morrow we do hold a tourney. 
 Thou wilt be present with us in the Court, 
 And thou canst note the knights and seek thy lover, 
 If he be 'mid the guests of noble Arthur. 
 
 Elaine. Oh thank thee, noble Madam, may kind Heaven 
 Bless thee in thy great wifehood to the King. 
 
 Guin. Come, Maiden, thou wilt follow in our train. 
 
 ^ \Exit all. 
 
 SCENE \\~The Coutt. 
 
 Enter Vivien disguised as a strange maiden^ followed by 
 men bearing a (j y eat stone ivith a 
 sword thrust in it. 
 
 Arthur Whence comest thou unto our Court, strange 
 And on what quest art thou sentj? [Maiden ? 
 
 Vivien. Nine days are past and gone, most noble King, 
 Since thou didst advertise throughout the land 
 The kingdom be opened for tests at Camelot 
 And marvellous feats might here performed be. 
 
46 MORDRED. [act II. 
 
 Wherefore T, knowing of that noble pride 
 
 With which you hold the flower of your great Court 
 
 For manhood's purity, woman's chastity, 
 
 Have deigned to show before the world, great King, 
 
 The truth whereof thou boastest. 
 
 Arthur. It is bold indeed, but Arthur keeps his word. 
 What be the tests ? 
 
 Vivien. First, here, to test thy knighthood's purity, 
 We bring a sword sunk fast in yonder stone 
 By magic's force, and he who plucks it forth 
 Must be a knight who hath not known a woman, 
 Save in the lawful mode of marriage bed. 
 {To Launcelot.) Wouldst try, pure Knight? 
 
 Laun, Yea, I would, doth great Arthur will, 
 Though all the fiends of hell clutched nether end. 
 Do other knights but make the trial first. 
 {A nuniber of knights come forward^ try to pull the sword 
 
 out of the stone but fail. 
 Launcelot then places his feet on the stofie and grasps the 
 
 sword and pulls with all his might, but the sword 
 
 remains fixed.) 
 
 Arthur. It is in sooth a marvel ! 
 
 Laun. It seemeth grown therein, 
 Yea, I will bend and strain until it comes. 
 It will not 1 {Stands to take a breath.) 
 
 Guin. It is enough ! 
 
 Vivien. Wouldst thou try again pure Knight ? 
 
 Laun. Yea I will try till I die, if it come not. 
 {Tries again, bends his ivhole strength, then staggers to his 
 feet.) Methought the earth's roots hung thereon. 
 I am shamed ! 
 
 Arthur. 'Tis enough ! 
 
 Vivien. Wilt not try again, pure Knight ? 
 
 Laun. {With set face.) Yea, now for Camelot's glory. 
 Launcelot's manhood pulls on this side. Hell on that. 
 
SC. v.] MORDRED. 47 
 
 (^Braces himself and gives one terrible /ug, then falls back 
 fainting.) 
 Elaine. 'Tis he ! {rushes out and falls fainting on his 
 breast. The Queen^s women lift her and bear her 
 out.\ 
 
 f 
 
 ■ .<• ' ■' ■ .-> "■ ■' ■•: ; ■ 
 
 Gui7i. Great Heaven ! 
 
 Arthur. 'Tis enough ! away with it, Maiden, thy magic 
 hath outdone our noblest worth. 
 
 Vivien. (Scornfully.) Is there no pure man will make 
 
 [trial? 
 
 Gwaine. (^Emerges from the throng still dressed in scullions 
 dress.) 
 
 Yea, I will try, although I rend the stone. 
 
 {Leaps on to the stone and plucks the sword out with both 
 hands, with a s^r eat pull, and waves it aloft with an 
 exidtant shout. The throng starts back.) 
 
 How now, mighty King ? 
 
 Arthur. 'Tis a great marvel ! ^ . , .v 
 
 Laun. {Steps firth.) The man that hath done that must 
 [face Launcelot to the death, — to the death ! {Faces 
 
 [^Gwaine and draws.) 
 
 Guin. My God ! {Her maids support her, she hides her 
 
 \^face in her mantle.) 
 
 Gwaine. I would not slay thee. 
 
 Laun. Thou can'st not ! — Keep you ! {they fight) 
 
 \Knights try to sepatate them.) 
 
 Arthur. Nay, back, more room ! give them more room. 
 
 {Continue fighting, each draws blood, but neither gives 
 
 \way.) 
 
 Guin. {Aside to the maids.) Be he slam ? 
 
 A Maid. Neither be slain. Madam. 
 
 Arthur. Enough ! I say enough ! 
 
 Laun. Sire ! 
 
 Gwaine. Must we stop the exercise ? 
 
48 • MORDRED. [act II. 
 
 Arthur. It is enough, you are both brave knights. 
 
 Laun. Gwaine, thou art better than I. 
 
 Gwaine. Thou art the best I have met. 
 Wilt thou take the hand of Gwaine ? 
 
 Laun. Yea I will, though it hath pressed me hard. 
 
 Arthur. Clear the Court. (^Trumpets blow and the throng 
 
 : Yy:^,,, falls back.) 
 
 SCENE VI. — An outer room in the Castle — Guinevere 
 walking back and forth. Enter Launcelot, kneels, 
 would take her hand. 
 Laun. Madam ! ■::.'.. ■■■■^..i,:-'': :v ':^; ■■..''-; '^vtS'. •:".,.■ •^.,- 
 
 {^Guinevere draws back coldly^ 
 
 Laun. Madam, what means this coldness ? 
 Thou wert not ever wont to meet me thus ? 
 
 Guin. Where hast thou left the maid of Astolat ? 
 
 Laun. Maid of Astolat ! 
 
 Guin. Yea that frail pink-and-white that pillowed thy 
 What time thou did'st faint, some slim cowslip miss [breas^ 
 Such as do flatter you strong men by their weakness. ;_ 
 
 Go flippant knight and seek your skim-milk love. 
 Guinevere v/ould hate thee but for scorn. 
 God curse the day I ever let thee love ! 
 
 Laun. Madam each word thou utterest, like a dagger, 
 Doth stab with cruel agonies my heart. 
 If Launcelot hath sinned in loving thee, 
 That love is maiden unto all save ihee. 
 Yea I am damned daily for thy face, 
 And even thou dost scorn me. 
 
 Guin. A truce of words, I saw with mine own eyes, 
 What all the Court and all the world doth know. 
 Launcelot's Love, the Maid of Astolat, 
 Is mouthed by all ^-^ors lips in all men's ears, 
 Till Guinevere is :ven Mordred's scorn** 
 I'd slay thee, were I only but a man. 
 
SC. VI.] MORDRED. 49 
 
 Zaun. Madam ! by my love ! — 
 
 Guin. By thy love, a flimsy foresworn thing, 
 A toylet of a moment ! Such as thou ! 
 And I ! I gave — , By Heaven ! I pluck thee out, 
 And thrust thee from m.e, thou false handsome face ! 
 Thou devil-eyed to lead hearts on to ruin ! 
 
 Laun. Madam, wilt thou not hear ? I- 
 
 Guin. Nay, nay, begone ! I scorn thee, yea, I hate ! 
 
 Laun. {Sadly.) Yea Guinevere I go, to come no more. 
 It is well seen that thou hast ti^ed of me. 
 Thou hast driven Launcelot mad ! mad ! ^^^^\^'''Cl-'^--!-\y '":''■'- 
 The world reels round me, I am all alone. -. . 
 
 All else the visions of a noisome dream. - . ;■ 
 
 I am mad, mad, Guinevere ! 
 And dost thou smile ? here's for the lonely dark I 
 Ho ! ho 1 the world's one hideous mockery. 
 
 {Leaps from the casement.) 
 
 Guin. Nay, nay, Launcelot ! Launcelot ! 
 Come back ! 1 love thee, I forgive thee all ! 
 {Falls on her face.) Oh Heaven ! I have driven him away. 
 Nevermore, Oh, never to return. 
 O Love I O Love ! my maddened heart will break. 
 O foolish stars I why smile on this grim night 
 Lighting the heartless heaven with your eyes? ^~^ ., s 
 O foolish birds, why pipe across the dark, ;i : "^ 
 
 Calling the rosy morn, the false-faced morn, — 
 
 While hearts are breaking here amid the dark ? 
 Launcelot ! Launcelot ! Hark ! he returns. 
 Nay, 'tis the foolish wind wooing the silly trees. 
 He never will return, nor will forgive. 
 O poor white hand ! he nevermore will clasp, 
 O wayward lips ! he nevermore will kiss. 
 O heart, break ! break ! 
 (Eniet a maid.) Madam, here cometh the King. 
 
 {Guin. Rises.) 
 
 Arthur. Madam, watchest thou alone the splendor of the 
 
 [night. ? 
 
50 MORDRED. [aCT II. 
 
 Guin. Yea, there is a burden in the distant sea, 
 And a soft sadness from the far-off night 
 Of ghost-winds footing under the haunted dark. 
 It groweth chill, my Lord. 
 
 Arthur. We will go within. {Exit both.) 
 Enter Gwaine and Dagonet. 
 
 Gwaine. Yea, mad ! mad ! stark raving mad, you say ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, mad. His eyes were like balls 'o fire. 
 An' his face fixed like he followed a vision, ^ 5 -i^ 
 
 Or walked 'i his sleep. '':-K''':'...isS' l-^-i'^^^-y^'^.^ur.t 
 
 An' his hands did beat the air the while he shouted a war song. 
 It hath frighted me out of a week's sleep. , 
 
 ■^- •<■■■■■■ - -.■■<-■■ .' 
 
 Gwaine. Yea, he is indeed mad. 'Tis this crazy love. 
 And he such a man, the best 'i the world, ; jJ^k: <•• ' fA-^/ 
 I will take horse and follow him. 
 Drop that lanthorn, Fool, and help me wi' this buskin, 
 'Tis new to me. The best 'i the world, damn this love ! j, 
 Fool, wert thou ever in love? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, thou knowest I be a fool. 
 
 Gwaine. Then be wise like Gwaine, Fool, and scorn love; 
 'Tis but a mad fever 'o the head and marrow. 
 It creepeth in by the eyes and spoileth a good man. 
 It killeth sleep and maketh a mock at feeding. 
 It heateth the blood and rouieth caution. 
 'Ware of love. Fool, an' thou would'st be wise. 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, thy words be like what the wind said to 
 
 [the wall. 
 Gwaine. And what be that ? 
 
 • 
 
 Dagonet. Stand up while I blow thee down ! 
 Art thou off now ? i 
 
 Gwaine. Yea, till I find him. 
 Tell the King Gwaine hath ta'en French leave, but ho will 
 come again when he bringeth the best man 'i the King- 
 
 [dom. 
 
SC. VII.] MORDRED. 5 1 
 
 Ho ! without there ! Fool, go ahead with chat lanthorn. 
 
 - ' \Curtain, 
 
 SCENE VII.— ir«/fr Vivien ^«</ MoRDRKD. 
 
 Vivien. Prince, and do you weaken now again ? 
 
 Mordred. Yea, Vivien, I have only half a heart 
 For this damned business. 
 
 Vivien. 'Tis but a lack of manhood in thy l)lood, 
 That runs to water dwelling on puerile things, - -■ 
 Like parent-love and other sickly longings, ' '• 
 
 Forgotten with forgetting of the paps. <: ^ ^ -; r 
 
 Now me, my memory knows no parentage ■">;•> 
 Save circumstance and mine own nimble wits. ' - ^' 
 'Tis but our acts that build the bridge of fate 
 Across this perilous river men call life. 1 1^*'^ i^^i:; 
 
 Some kneel and l)ray, trust some fond deity, 
 And build in fancy safety for themselves, 
 Then soon are churning 'mid the ravening flood. 
 Others do build them piers of solid stone. 
 Or use men's bodies for to tread upon. 
 These get the surest over. — Hast seen the Queen ? 
 
 Mordred. Ha, that one name hath more to conjure with 
 Than all your sophistries, to my dark soul. 
 Yea, how I hate that woman ! I am but 
 The hideous toad that poisons on her sight. 
 Though I may sense the glories of this earth 
 With all its wealth, the heaven o'er-bridged with stars, 
 And know love's heights and depths, and pity's well, 
 Brimming with pearls of tears and woman's eyes; 
 I am but hideous Mordred after all. 
 
 Vivien. Yea, in her eyes art hideous, not in mine. 
 
 Mordred. Woman, thou liest ! Ic were natural 
 To love the perfect shape and noble form, 
 The sunny face and splendid laughing eye ; 
 But canst thou love the wry and gnarled shape 
 And beetle-browed, night-shaded soul like mine ? 
 
52 , MORDRED. [ ACT II 
 
 I am a toad, a bat, a gnarled stump. 
 These hideous in nature are my kin. 
 Woman, thou liest, when thou speakest of love ! 
 
 Vivien. Nay, Mordred, do not scorn me ! Thou 'rt a man 
 In more than mere out-seeming, 'tis thy fate 
 Thy whole grim spirit Vivien pitieth. 
 Would'st thou but love me, Vivien would be 
 Thy queen, thy slave, the 'venger of thy wrongs. 
 That call to heaven. 
 
 Mordred. Nay, nay, it cannot be, thou wastest words. 
 I like thee least in this strange mood of thine. 
 Love is no word for Mordred, rather hate, 
 And thou wert made for plotting^, not for joys. 
 Yea, we will marry in compact of ill, 
 And will beget as child, black, black revenge. 
 This is my mood. 
 
 Vivien. Now thou ait natural, there is much to do. 
 Our schemes o'er-reached, proud Arthur's jealousy 
 As yet untouched, and Launcelot fled the Court 
 In some queer madness. How likest the conditions ? 
 
 Mordred. He must come back, I am a devil at root. 
 We'll seethe him in the Queen's despairs and sorrows. 
 I have a plan,— she giveth soon a feast 
 Of autumn fruits unto her favorite knights. 
 And 1 will go, although she hates my face. 
 For 1 misdoubt she fears me even now. 
 There is a joy to know, if thou art not loved^ 
 That thou canst wield an mfluence over those 
 Who otherwise would pass thee by in scorn. 
 Well I do know a poison, subtle, sharp, 
 That when it bites it is the tooth of death. 
 This will I get mserted in some fruit, 
 And manage that one knight will eat of it, 
 Sir Patrise, brother unto that Sir Mador ; 
 Who hates the Queen for that she scorned his love 
 And not being present will call for loud revenge 
 Upon his brother's death 'gainst Guinevere 
 
t 
 
 SC. VII.] MORDRED. 53 
 
 Proud Arthur, then, will call upon some knight 
 
 To prove her innocence upon the sword, 
 
 And her extremity makes Launcelot sane. 
 
 He will return, then I will trap him with her, •: 
 
 Set Arthur and Launcelot at bitter war. 
 
 And wrest the kingdom from their weakened hands. ' 
 
 This is my plot, now for the working of it. 
 
 Down all compunction ! Mount all dark resolves I Va 
 
 Let me be Mordred inward as well as out, X: 
 
 All inky poison of soul, even that I, . > . ' 
 
 Who'd trample others, must crush out myself. -■ 
 
 Vivien Yea, Prince, indeed, 'tis seen thou hast a mind 
 Of subtle working fit to rule a King. 
 Thou wilt be greater than great Arthur yet, ; :-:; l- *5- 
 When thou sittest in his place. v; :x:;:-\:.ryr^x::?.-^ 
 
 - 1 * , - ■ - ■■ 
 
 >.:. ■ ■ ■• -' ■'...■ . ■'•-"* ,v L •(*. ■ 
 
 Mordred. Nay woman, tantalize me not with hopes. 
 'Tis not the splendid end that leads me on. ... 
 
 'Tis but the getting there that Mordred loves. V% 
 
 The mood of one who'd trample on the flowers , ;';iT !. 
 In some fair garden whence he is excluded. ; ;' 
 
 Here is the poison. That will be thy part ■'->:^:^'^-'-:r-:-;^f^-r0:- 
 To get it hidden in the special fruit, . : :: ^ 
 
 And get it fed unto the special man, ' : . i^^^^ 
 
 Whose snuffing out will pander to our end. | . >/ji ..^vA y ■ 
 
 Vivien. Give me the poison ! 
 
 Mordred. Here it is, this small pill. 
 So petty, but powerful. 
 Tis wondrous that this tiny polished globe, 
 Could hide betwixt the finger and the thumb, 
 Hath power to open the gateways of this world, 
 And in a sudden sleep dislodge a soul. 
 Hast thou an agent for to do this work ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, that I have. 
 Mordred. Not the fool again ? 
 Vivien. Yea, the fool ! 
 
 VJ - 
 
t 
 
 54 X , MORDRED, [act II. 
 
 Mordred. See he doth this better than the last. 'Tis the 
 [more perilous. Thinkest he will undertake it? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, he will. 
 
 Mordred, By what compulsion? 
 
 Vtvien, By that most powerful of all most powerful com- 
 
 [pulsions. He loveth me. 
 
 Mordred. And thou wilt use him, put him on the rack. 
 Which is thine influence ? 
 
 livien. See my little finger, he is as the yarn 
 That I may wind around it. 
 
 Mordred. Thou art a Devil ! Ho ! Ho ! Mordred hath 
 
 [mirth ! 
 And this be life ! Mordred hath mirth, yea, Vivien, mirth ! 
 See woman that thou failest not, 
 Mordred is roused, it must be. 
 
 \_Exit Mordred. 
 
 Vtvien. Ho ! Ho ! Thou art travelling my road at last. 
 I must haste from hence and find Dagonet. 
 
 SCENE V\U.—E?iter Dagonet. 
 
 Dagonet. I'm but the ghost of mine old former self, 
 Who once a jester, am now but the jest 
 Of some outrageous fortune. Sleep hath fled. 
 My meat hath no more taste unto my mouth. 
 The wine but heavy lees within the cup. 
 I am so held in love for Vivien, 
 That I must end this foolish spark o' life. 
 My heart leaps up for joy to see her face, 
 A silly joy, such as a child might have. 
 Loving some star for plaything, out of reach. 
 Oh what would I not do to even dare 
 To press the velvet of her dainty hand ! 
 Back, down, poor foolish dreams ! Now I must play 
 The frothy merriment of a world that's grey. 
 
SC. VIII.] MORDREI). ^ "55 
 
 There may be poison in the cup 
 
 But still the foam must cling. 
 
 To keep the strong world's courage up 
 
 Poor fools must laugh and sing ; " >\ 
 
 With sobs below and smiles above, 
 
 Amasking day by day, -.,:-;■<; 
 
 On trampled, bleeding hopes of love. 
 
 So whirls the world away ! , '1 
 
 
 ^^inf 
 
 There may be breaking of the heart " ' M :y -% /^ 
 Though merry laughs the eye. - ^ ;.; ^ 
 
 Still we poor fools must act our part, ; ,; 
 
 And laugh, and weep, and die. 
 V -Still must we sportive battles wage, * ^ " V 
 :;. V With foam of lightsome breath, :.'.--/^'-^-::ry:^^.-::^:. 
 >,,' While underneath the currents rage w^; V 
 
 And wrecks are churned to death. 
 
 ^^^ " JSnferYiYiEN, D agonet sfar/s. ^ ''^^^ & 
 
 Vivien. Thou growest grewsome, Dagonet ; where hast 
 
 [lost thy mirth ? 
 Dagonet, I know not, Vivien, I know not, belike I am a 
 [fool indeed. Poor Dagonet is no more himself. 
 
 Vivien. Poor Dagonet. ^ 
 
 Dagonet. Why not call me fool, dost thou pity me ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, I do. i^; : : - 
 
 Dagonet. And since when ? 
 
 Vivien. Since I knew that thou vvert a man. 
 
 Dagonet. Dagonet, the fool, a man ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea since I knew as thou couldst love indeed* 
 
 Dagonet. That I love, Vivien, what knowest thou ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, that thou hast a heart under thy mask. Yea, 
 more, for whom thou hast this feeling, Wouldst thou 
 win her grace ? 
 
56 , MOKDRED. [act II. 
 
 Dagonet. {Fails on his knees.) Yea, yea, Vivien, for one 
 look, one smile. Oh Vivien, well thou knowest I am 
 thy slave. 
 
 Vivien. What would'st thou do for my love ? 
 
 Dagonet. Thou hast my heart bare in thy sight. Write 
 on it what characters thou likest, for I am thine. I 
 tell thee I am thy dog, thy slave. 
 
 Vivien. Not dog, nor slave, but lover. ( Vivien holds out 
 \jier hand^ Dagonet crawls near and takes it.) 
 
 Dagonet. Oh Vivien, dost thou mean this? W 
 
 Vivien. Yea, in sooth I will try thy love. Would'st thou 
 [win my love Dagonet ? ; , , .. 
 
 Dagonet. Dost thou mock me ? , • ' ' 
 
 Vivien. Nay. {Takes a little lyox jrom her girdle and 
 [opens it.) Dost see this pill ? {Leans near and 
 whispers in his ear. Dagonet starts back!) Nay! nay 1 not 
 [that! .-, . ■ 
 
 Vivien. That or nought I , * r . ,, 
 
 Dagonet. Wouldst thou use me thus ? "' • ■ j 
 
 Vivien. Thou art the man who'd win my love ! I tell thee 
 [so must all who'd love Vivien. 
 
 Dagonet. Nay, nay, I must think. This is indeed death, 
 
 [death. 
 
 Vivien. Yea, death or nought ! I thought thou wert a 
 
 [man ? 
 
 Dagonet. For that reason am I now in hell. 
 
 Vivien. { Takes his hand.) Dagonet, dost thou love me ? 
 
 Dagonet. Oh God ! Yea Vivien, give me the pill, I am 
 [not myself any more. I am thine, I will do it. Vivien, 
 [thou wilt not fail me ? 
 
 Vivien. See that thou dost not fail me, and be sure that 
 
 [thou doest this well. 
 
 Dagonet. I will. ' \_Exit Vivien 
 
SC. VIII.] MORDRED. , . r. 57 
 
 Dagonet, At last Oagonet thou hast thy wish, and hast 
 [crossed the barr-er that separates comedy from dark 
 Dagonet, now thou art a man ! [tragedy. 
 
 Thou art pitied ! Thou canst win love. 
 Thou canst snufF the candle out o' a life. 
 Dost know thy features any more ? And all for love ! 
 
 • »: (Sings.) : . ,; 
 
 "■■■-■■'■■' "'' ■■'..>.,'.■- 
 
 r.ove, that lights this world 
 
 Yet leaves us i' the dark ; — , 
 
 1 led thee to my couch' ■'^' ■ 
 A grave-cloth was thy sark ! ' :' > 
 O Love, we would be clothed, 
 And thou hast left us stark. 
 
 /■ , ! '- 
 
 . /■ .r ' 
 
 '"<. ■' i-.'.y ■ '« 
 
 Yea, I am on fire. Snow ! snow ! Would I had snow to cool 
 
 [me. ' 
 Fool, thou art no more a fool. Dagonet, thou art a man ! 
 Thou lovest. This must be done. {G(?es out) 
 
 [Curtain. ^ 
 
 ^ .■ ; ^ ../, ;■ ACT III. .'■"■;:;'^V;t ^'" •..::-vv ..; :,:,u ;. 
 
 SCENE I.— Arthur, Mordred, Dagonet, and Nobles. 
 
 ■'■'A", ' . .■"■'•■"..'?.''- 
 
 , : '.^^ : Enter the QuEEVi in great trouble. 
 
 Enter Knights bringing in a dead body and crying Treason/ 
 
 Treason ! 
 
 (The Queen takes her State.) 
 
 Arthur. Who would accuse the Queen ? 
 
 Sir Mador. 'Tis I, my Liege. 
 
 Arthur. What be the substance of thine accusation ? 
 
 Sir Mador. Murder ! Sire, murder I most foul and 
 
 [treacherous I 
 
 Other Knights. Yea, murder, foul and treacherous ! 
 Arthur. On whom ? 
 
58 ' \ , ;^ MORDRET). ' [act III. 
 
 Sir Mador. On the body of this knight, my brother, Sir 
 
 Patrise, whom thou knowest to have been a courteous knight 
 
 of much steadfastness to thee and the Court. ^ 
 
 Arthur. It is most strange. Relate the circ imstances. 
 
 Sir Mador. 'Twas at the banquet, Sir King, where we all 
 invited of thy Queen, the Madam Guinevere, who sitteth 
 there, and after meat, she with much courtesy of seeming, 
 did press on us to partake of some fruit, the which on par- 
 taking of, my brother, this dead knight, did tall in ae;ony so 
 extreme and mortal; that his soul went out, and now he lieth 
 as thou see'st him. 
 
 Other Knights. Yea, 'tis true, 'tis as fte saith, a most foul 
 '^ . :^ [and damnable murder. 
 
 Atthur. {Turns to the queen.) Madam, what sayest thou 
 
 :' ■ ^i ; ""' [to this accusation ? 
 
 Guin. 'Tis a false foul lie. I am innocent of this deed. 
 Dagonet. (Aside,) Yea, 'tis true ! • - 
 
 Arthur. Thou see'st this dead knight here and these wit- 
 
 [nesses, as I am King I must see justice, even against 
 
 Hast thou no other defence to offer? [thee. 
 
 Guin. Nay, my lord, as I am the Queen, 'tis a most 
 damnable lie. 'Fore Heaven, I am innocent of this strange 
 murder. .,;,■„.: ,. •■;■,;:;..' ,-. : , ■' ■■•■,;■■■,■.•■ ';;■:,..-•,-'.■":,.; 
 
 Dagonet. [Aside.) Now is my soul in flames ! ^ " , 
 
 Sir Mador. According to our ancient laws, when a guest 
 dies in this most suspicious manner, where proof of grievous 
 intent is present, the accused is condemned to be burnt at 
 the stake. 
 
 Guin. Great Heaven ! 
 
 Arthur. 'Tis a foul punishment. 
 
 Sir Mador. But for a foul crime. 
 
 Other Knights. Yea, 'tis but justice. 
 
 Arthur. There is also a trial. 
 
 Mordred. Yea, Sire, the accused being a woman must 
 
SC. I.] \ , MORDRED. fjf* 
 
 have a knight to prove her innocence by his body on the 
 body of the accuser ere the time of denth be acconii)hshed. 
 
 Arthur. Then be it so. The law must follow on the 
 weight of these many witnesses. {Turning to the Queen.) 
 Guinevere, Queen of Britain, 1 believe thee guiltless of the 
 crime whereof thou art accused, as thou hast said. As King 
 I am not free to prove thine innocence with my body, but 
 as the King, unless thou procurest a knight to assoil thee 
 ere the time appointed, I here condemn thee to be taken 
 hence to a place of public note and there be burnt to death, 
 as the law requireth. 
 
 Guin. Oh Great Heaven ! (Falls in a swoon.) 
 
 Arthur. Sir knight, art thou satisfied? 
 
 Sir Mador. Yea, on my body. - . - 
 
 Arthur. Then clear the Court. » \Exit Knights. 
 
 Madam, this is the heaviest hour of all my life. 
 
 G^dn. [Supported by her ladies.) Yea, my lord, thou 
 
 > [wilt save me? . . ... 
 
 \, •- 
 
 Arthur. That I will, in all justice. Ho, there, without ! 
 
 .■;/ .;-■■ ^- ■" ,, ''V; ,':'• Enter a Page. -v;,...'. '\' :\'- . '-.'- 
 
 Bring me Sir Hake on the instant. {Enter Sir Hake.) 
 
 Arthur. I command that this stern sentence on the body 
 of the noble Queen be proclaimed widely, and that mes- 
 sengers be sent, on pain of death, to find Sir Gwaine and 
 Sir Launcelot, that if they be not procured here within the 
 present month, that the messengers pay the penalty with 
 their bodies. 
 
 Sir Hake. Yea Sire, it will be done. [Exit. 
 
 . Arthur. And thou, my Queen, retire to your apartments, 
 I will come shortly to you. Keep up thy heart, as thou art 
 innocent so will Heaven help thee. 
 
 Guin. Yea,my Lord, thou wilt save me, as I am innocent. 
 
 \Exit Guinevere and her ladies. 
 
6o ; I • ', MORDRED. ; [aCT III. 
 
 Arthur. Ho, Page, bring wine, (aside) I would forget my 
 
 .::,-v-' '^r?;:-??' ■ ^.n^';;-" ,;.;: [sorrow. 
 
 Bring wine ! I say, and send hither my fool ! [Exit Page. 
 
 ;.-/,„i.,. ;.•■;,,-. -,,l.., . ^. :..,. Enter Dagohki. ■..- - %^. ■,■/■■ :.•-■; 
 
 Arthur. Fool, I would forget my heaviness. Make me 
 
 r^^^k,li ■^^-- ■; ■ '-f .■:<yM\.-:- -■ .-: :: :. .^'-r^ ■ : -M' [merry. 
 
 Dagonet, (Aside.) Oh God ! (To the Ktng.) Yea, Sire, 
 
 ■;'^^-vo * V ^ :^- - - [what would'st thou have ? 
 
 Arthur, Some music. v " ' ' ' 
 
 2>«^o?ie^. Yea, Sire. (Sings) 
 
 Blue is the summer morning's sky, 
 
 And birds are glad and merry. 
 ■ And Anna's eyes are sweet and sly. 
 
 Her cheeks like any cherry ; — - 
 
 Her lips like dewy rosebuds are 
 
 Upon the gladsome morning. 
 • She is my love, my heart's glad star, 
 7:0:?^ ' In spite of all her scorning. 
 
 ;, i,' 'o V So fill the cup of gladness up 
 
 . ' And drink to youth and morning. 
 
 '' . Let sadness go with evenmg su[), -^ 
 
 ^.y ;'.'■? J .: I'm hers fur all her scorning. ^^ . 
 
 Arthur. Would I had thy merry heart, Fool. . -. > . 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, Sire ! ' '^ 
 
 SCENE II. — Launcelot discovered seated almost naked 
 
 amid sivineherds. .<..; 
 
 (Launcelot sings.) -: • 
 
 Once there was a castle hall, 
 Fair, fair to see. 
 
 Armored dight, and splendored all, 
 Filled w4th shout o' revelry. 
 Came the hosts o' fate and rage 
 Thundered on its walls amain. 
 Sunken now like ruined age, 
 
SC. II.] O; MORDRED. \'-^"0. .'i;.'-i ' 6 1 
 
 ;,' , i Never laughs its light again. > , ; ; ^.; 
 
 ; : I loved a Queen and she loved me. ' , 
 
 ., Aye, that were long ago I :uv'\-Ha-: 
 
 |, Come now wrack, come now woe, -v V, ^; 
 •: Strike now liahtninc, beat now snow ! , ' ;r 
 Memory, I'll ha' none o thee ! 
 
 Ha! ha! Cowards, who'll fight? (rises). Ha! Ha! * 
 
 ■t I .' 
 
 ' ^i^e?' rt Knight. 
 
 Knight. Who be this ? ' ■- v .. , v' v -- ^-^ ' ' 
 
 is^ Swineherd. Him be mad though him hurt us not, for 
 [us be soft wi' him, him tend a' swine. -^ v r' ,-■''■' 
 
 2nd Swineherd. Him mun fight, but us not answer. Him 
 • ' • -^ [be o'er hulk a man twa hanle a staff, 
 
 Laun. Winds are cold and flowers are dead. All is past, 
 
 [past ! 
 
 Knight. Ho there, who be thou ? 
 
 Latin. 'Tis an old world, an old, old world. I tell thee truth, 
 I loved a Queen, but that be long past. » 
 
 Knight. His wits be dull. — Who art thou fellow ? " ' ^V 
 
 Latm. It hath been never Summer this many a year. 
 
 -;fcv-'^/A'- .V > .- [Can'st tell me why ? 
 
 Knight. 'Tis Summer now, thou Fool ! 
 
 Laun. Nay nay, 'tis but Winter. I loved a Queen 
 
 Knight. Oh, damn thy Queen ! who art thou ? 
 
 Laun. Yea, damn all Queens, I am with thee, Friend, — 
 
 [wilt thou fight ? 
 Knight. Not with thee. 
 
 Laun. Damn thee ! thou wilt I 
 
 Knight. I tell thee I wont. -,^.v - 
 
 Laun. rhen damn thee ! take t^sat ! {Knocks him diwn.) 
 
 Knight. Oh ! oh ! I am murdered ! 
 
 Laun. More ! more ! 
 
62 , MORDRED. TaCT III. 
 
 ■ ■ .■.-.■ -'' .■'■■:-■•' •- 
 
 Enter GwMiiE. ■': - t^i'^'-'^l'^v:? 
 
 Gwaine. Ha, at last, it seemeth ! ' ' • ' 
 
 1st Swineherd. Have care, Master ! Him be dread. 
 
 Gwaine. How long hath he been like this? ,, - 
 
 2nd Swineherd. ' Tis some time agone. At first him did 
 An' bite hisself, but him be better now. [tear the earth 
 
 Laun. 1 chased the moon the silly moon, y < 
 
 Ahihd a willard tree. - . .:,^-- , - V ^^ y-yy'- 
 
 1 knocked the stars like nine-pins down, . - . /'-: .' 
 One, two, three. . , * •:. ; :■ »-. 
 
 I loved a Queen. Ha! ha! 'tis Winter. 
 
 Givaine. And this be he, the best o' Arthur's Court, 
 A ragged ninny, mouthing wanton froth, 
 The sport o' pig-folk, this be love's good work, ' '^ 
 Oh Love ! thou hast much to answer ! . , 
 
 1st Swineherd. Him want alius twa foight. ' '■ 
 
 Gwaine. Yea, he spoileth for a bout, 'tis often a right cure. 
 I will try it, God give it may bring him round. 
 (7'o Launcklot.) Ho there, Fellow ! 
 
 Laun. Ho thyself. Windbag. Thou hast a fine voice, 
 Cari'st thou call back memory ? , [Friend. 
 
 Gwaine. Yea I can. I - 
 
 Laun. Can'st thou find Spring time ? I loved, I loved, — 
 
 Gwaine. Oh damn love — dost thou know me ? 
 
 Laun. Know rhee ? know thee ? I know thou art a man. 
 
 [Wilt thou fight, Friend ? 
 
 Gwaine. With a merry good will. 
 
 Laun. Then lets to 't. 
 
 Gwaine. {Takes a quarter staff, they fight hard and long.) 
 Gwaine belabors Launcelot on the head, back and 
 
 [shoulders. 
 
 Laun. Ha, it raineth thoughts now. Come on Hell, 
 
 [come on. 
 
'•,;■:.-,, *;,<.>..,.;;>,./. 
 
 SC. II.] MORDRED. 63 
 
 Gwaine. Yea, am I coming, (hits h%m harder. If I beat 
 that damned love out o' him I will do him a good 
 deed. How's that and that ? 
 
 Laun. And that, and that. {Both fight till exhausted.) 
 
 Gwaine. Launcelot, dost know thyself now ? 
 
 Laun. Methinks I partly do, under a cloud. 
 
 Gwaine. And dost thou know me ? 
 
 Laun. Methinks thou art the moon. 
 
 Givaine. Damn, this love ! If I be the moon thou shalt 
 find me no honeymoon, {hits him again,) {they fight 
 
 '-' '■ '■/^-'':' '■,.•■/■• ^ ■■'-■"''■■ . ' -'' .'■-■ ■■^■■■i- ^fiercer. 
 
 Laun. Come on, thou art welcome. Oh ! 
 
 Gwaine. Well, dost thou know me yet ? '"'"'' ■ • ' 
 
 Laun. Methinks thou art one named Gwaine. Oh my 
 
 [bones ! 
 
 Gwaine. Be this Winter? . ; 
 
 Laun. I be warm now. -, ' . 
 
 Gwaine. An dost thou love a Queen ? 
 
 Laun, What mean'st thou ? 
 
 Gwaine. I would rid thee of this damned love. 
 
 Laun. Then wouldst thou rid me of this life. Gwaine, 
 tl^ou art a noble soul, but thou can'st not do that. 
 
 Gwaine. Art thou thyself now ? . -^^ 
 
 Laun. Methinks I am — Yea I have been mad. 
 
 Gwaine. Yea and I have cured thee. Come, this be no 
 
 Let us go. -i. s-::^' y ^ ;; ^/5 -;^: [P^^^^- 
 
 \X7-^.^..;u ■- vy.;^^-im-^-'^^ ::^^^^^^^ ' '■■^I'T \Exithoth. 
 
 ■iil^ 
 
 SCENE III. — Another part of the forest. — Launcelot and 
 
 Gwaine. 
 
 Gwaine. Launcelot, thou art a fool. Thou art the King's 
 
64 ■ • . . MORDREi). Tact III. 
 
 ).ii man, and the best. Thou hast an arm and a sword on 
 > -v^^.-. . Thou must come. I will no longer here. 
 
 Lami. I may not, this hurt be too deep. 
 
 Givaine. Damn thy hurt, man ! thou art sound as I. 
 
 Laun. 'Tis a deep hurt, Launcelot fights no more. Here 
 will I die. '>'"'- '^:;. .;'^i-!'.:' \ :- '■^.. v-r--; '■ .'^ ■ 
 
 (iwaine^ Better go a Monk, thou art a fool, Man. This 
 love is a girl's folly. Fighting is a man's trade and 
 his sword his true mistress. Gwaine will have no other. 
 Come, thou art not dead yet. 
 
 Laun. Aye Gwaine thou wastest words, Launcelot is 
 ended. ./,::, -,'.*,■ -.-^'..-^ -;■-., <:..-;.^'',^ ■^•. ,..'*■ ....v .. 
 
 Gwaine, Damn thee ! I gave my word I would bring thee, 
 will I have to go foresworn else carry thee on my back. 
 ■ ■ Have I cured thy madness but for this ? 
 
 Laun, Nay, nay, make peace best thou canst. Thou art 
 a good fellow, but I cannot. Launcelot will die here. 
 
 Gwaine. I say, damn thee, thou shalt come ! 
 
 Laun, Thou liest ! {both spring; to their feet and draw ^ 
 {Trumpets without,) {Enter the King's Messengers.) 
 
 G^vaine, Who comes? ^ ;f. > . ; J - ; '' .: -. ;• / 
 
 Mess, From the King. v: : t) / , ; '■ \ 
 
 Gwaine, What want ye ? 
 
 Mess, We seek two knights. Sir Launcelot and Sir 
 Gwaine. ... -,.^. ,.,....,;,,.:,,. . ,,,....,,.......,,.,_,..,, 
 
 Gwaine. We be thy men — what be thy message? 
 
 Mess. The King desireth thee in great haste, the 
 
 Queen be in great peril. v,>;>.v. '^'-^..v^y^^^Cr-:-^-''-'---^-'-'-':-- 
 
 Laun. Nay ! 
 
 Mess. Yea, of her life. She be condemned to the stake 
 if a knight assoil her not with his body on her accuser 
 tomorrow noon. 
 
 Iximi, Dread Heaven ! 
 
SC. Ill ] MORDRED. 65 
 
 Gwatne. What be the accusation? !l . ;,>. ..•,-■* 
 Mess. Murder on the body of Sir Patrise. " ' 
 
 Laun. Enough! hast thou brought horses ? ■, - : : 
 Mess. Yea. , 
 
 Laun. Then quick ! on your lives ! lead us hence ! 
 
 \Exit Launcelot and Messengers. 
 
 Gwaine. The foul fiend take this love ! It be a queer 
 sickness indeed. Anon it made him like to luke 
 water, and now he be all fire. It bldweth now up now 
 down, like the wind i' a chimney. Yea 1 love that 
 man like a father his child. There is no sword like to 
 his i' the whole kmgdom. An' a wench that be a 
 queen leadeth him like a goss-hawk. {Voices ivithout.) 
 
 Yea, I am coming. ' \Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV. — (^w/^/- Court-ushers with trumpets^ Soldiers 
 and Knights. Enter the. King : takes his State. Enter 
 the Queen in a black robe surrounded by her Women, 
 (onus to the foot of the Throne^ falls on her face.) 
 
 Guin. Arthur, thou wilt save nn^? , -^ 
 
 Arthur. My Queen, as the kinj: I may not. My heart is 
 Put thy trust in Heaven. [hell. 
 
 Guin. 'Tis a dread death. -, 
 
 Arthur. Madam, could Arthur pave thee he would. If 
 y\ thou diest so doth my joy in this world— keep thy 
 ": heart. ^ ,. ■■ --:■■■-■ '■■':'■ -v'^-'--, :r-"--,- -•'•••^- ^; ^- 
 
 Guin. 'Fore God, I am innocent. '''\ ^ ' ' M 
 
 Arthur. Thou must trust to Heaven. 
 
 Guin, That I do. {rises and takes her state.) 
 
 Court Chamberlain. Guinevere, Queen of Britain, of this 
 dread crime whereof thou art accused what hast thou 
 to say ? 
 
-.-ri''' 
 
 $^ . MORDRED. - [act III. 
 
 ■ . .. ■' , , . ' ^ ■,'■■.. ^ 
 
 Guin. (Ibises) That I Guinevere, Queen of Britain, am 
 innocent of this most foul charge of which I am here 
 accused, and here call on Heaven to prove on the 
 body of that foul knight mine accuser. 
 
 Marshalls enfer and trumpets are blown. 
 
 Court- Chambet lain. Doth no knight assoil the Queen? 
 
 Guin. Heaven help me ! 
 
 Arthur. Do no knights approach ? • 
 
 ., Page. Nay, Sire. 
 
 Arthur. Then has the hour of my life's sorrow come. 
 
 Enter Sir Mador doffs to the King. 
 
 Sir Mador. Sire, the time hath almost passed and I 
 demand a knight to do no battle, or that the Queen be 
 burnt. 
 
 Guin. (Aside) Merciful Heaven ! 
 
 Arthur. [To the Page) Do none come ? 
 
 ;;:; Page. Nay, Sire. ^-^^ '-f ■'::;. 
 
 :. Dagonet. Were I not bound to Vivien body and soul, I 
 would state the truth. Nay I am accursed. There is but 
 one way. {staggers to the front of the throne the 
 throng presses back in wonder.) .. 
 
 Dagonet. {Kneels) ^\xq \ ^ ^ , ♦ - > . ; 
 
 : Arthur, {tn voice of thunder.) Well fool ? • ' 
 
 Dagonet. Didst thou noc once make me a knight ? 
 
 Arthur. Yea, in a moment of jest. 
 
 Dagonet. Then would I take this gage ! n^fe .J- 
 
 Guin. Nay, nay, death, death, but not this insult I C^ '^" • 
 What base knight of this court hath prompted this? ..j^v v, 
 
 Dagonet. None, none my Lady, 'tis my wish. ;>rr; ^^^^H 
 
 Arthur. Take him out! Now is Arthur shamed ! ^vt%<^ 
 
 Uiiii ' ILmghXs hurry XyAGO^ET out. v!) 
 
 Dagonet. {Aside) Now is Hell indeed my portion. 
 
SC. v.] ' , . MORDRED. ! . 
 
 ^ Guin. Sire, I would now die. %^|;1 <.: ■; i 1 
 
 Arthur. Yea, my Queen, so would Arthur. T - .. *?. 
 
 ^S/r Mador. Sire, the time be up. And, I, as the accuser, 
 now ask that thou, as King, wilt command that 
 Guinevere, Queen of Britain, who standeth there, be 
 taken from hence and burnt till she be dead. 
 
 A com. notion without^ Launcelot rushes in draws and 
 
 \ faces Sik Mador. 
 
 Laun. And I say, nay ! ^ v- < : k •.« 
 
 ":.<•'■:!' ;':,-l- ■■'::-■ ";;;v:^,: \Curtain. 
 
 w »;; 
 
 SCENE v.— Enter Mordred. 
 
 Mordred. Now cursed be the womb that gave me birth I 
 Thrice cursed be the paps that gave me suck ! . 
 
 That. I tjut made for hellish plots and hates, ' ' v^/ . i 
 
 And inky thoughts and moods and black despairs, , "J ^ 
 The most unhappy man in this dread woild, ,7 - 
 
 Should hous^ in me a dream of womanhood ; "" ' " 
 Such as doth dwell in all the milk-white glory 
 And glamored stateliness of Arthur's Queen. 
 Yea would I now forego all I hold dear . v ^ ..' T 
 
 In this life and the next, if such there be, '? '■ V i; ,r , 
 My chance of Heaven thrust to darkest Hell, ' ^'^ -"^^^^^ 
 One hour like Launcelot to know her love. - s^s 
 
 Hell ! Hell ! I laugh at Hell, such flames I burn ^^^^ ?: ^ 
 Would scorch the northern ice-seas in their beds. 
 So deep a hell 1 hold me in my thoughts 
 Of madness for her love. — Yea I am turned 
 A verv subtle Satan that will plot 
 
 High Arthur's downfall, Launcelot's banishment, <>-i,_' ^^ ' 
 And all the ruin of this present kingdom. 
 Yea, I will be a King and perch a crown 
 In its unsteady poisings on this brow. 
 So that by very glamor of my power 
 And inner majesty of mine iron soul, 
 I build in her a fancy for my person. 
 
68 . ; .'. MORDRED. TaCT III. 
 
 '■.■'■,.■•■■■''' 
 
 For I am Mordred, in this hour I'm great ;; i.;;' -^^ "''^v 
 
 In subtle cunning far beyond these days '■''^'"'"'\-,v'/^v^: ' 
 
 Of mere brute strength and stature physical. — ,? , ; ' 
 
 Yea I was born upon an evil time ,, , 
 
 Of evil parentage of sin and shame 
 
 Tlirice cursed in the inner soul and form, 
 
 What sportive fate gave me the gifts I hear ? , 
 
 But I am willed to use them to my use. " 
 
 Yea I will use all deviltries and lies, 
 
 All plots and counter- plots to gain mine end. 
 
 This misbegotten now doth hold the key 
 
 To this doomed kmgdom. • 
 
 ,.^ '.'"-''':{ V/^\. E flier Vivmis. ;■■.■'_:'";. " ,. , , 
 
 We are well met. Thou art upon the hour. . \ * - 
 
 The plot grows closer to our waited end. -; " 
 
 The net is weaving closer mesh by mesh . , . » 
 
 That traps the leopard and the lioness. ; • , .'; , 
 
 I have by long connivance, secret planned. 
 
 Built round me many knights who hold my weal, : 
 
 Jealous of Launcelot and Arthur's glory. 
 
 These will be with me when the stroke comes down. ., • 
 
 A thousand swords will leap their scabbard mouths ,. :..\ 
 
 At shout of Mordred ! Yea a thousand throats . . ^ v 
 
 Will cry me King when my fate topples Arthur. ; - 
 
 Vivien. Now art thyself, this be thy natural mood. 
 Yea Mordred when thou kingest it, there will be i* ] ik 
 A splendid thraldom to true kingliness. - .»; ?^ 
 
 For thou wilt sink a terror in men's hearts 1 k t' . s? 5J;-'>i 
 Of King's prerogatives will make them fear tc^ cv .; 
 The very sound and rumor of thy name. 
 And there will go before thee waves of will 
 Presaging thunders of thy royal coming. 
 But wilt thou then, my Lord, remember Vivien, 
 When thou dost come unto thy royalty, ^ ,*; 
 
 Her who did place thy footsteps in the way 
 That led thee to these gateways of success. 
 And bade thee trample on thy youthful fears, 
 
 . :* -i 
 
SC. v.] , MORDRKD. .69 
 
 And doubts and milksop fancies of the mind, - :' 
 
 And gave into thy hand an iron mace, 
 
 And bade thee use it? Wilt thou think on her, ' ' 
 
 The only one who loved thee for thyself, '■'"■■ ' 
 
 The single soul that knew thee in the dark, . 
 
 And loved thee for thy nobler qualities? - ' ' 
 
 Mordred. What wouldst thou have me promise ? 
 Vivien. I would be a Queen ! ,.;..>' 
 
 Mordred. Ha! thou climbest high ! . ': -, ; . .. 
 Be careful or thy stairway • ' i - . '• 
 
 In toppling over carry thee to Hell, {aside) 
 This be her trend I must match cunning with cunning, 
 And tie this serpent in her venomed coils. 
 Were she a man, I would admire her much, ^ 
 
 But not as woman ! She be Mordred's Queen, 
 When Queen of women there be one Guinevere ! 
 {To Vivien) When I am King thou wouldst then be the 
 
 Queen ? 
 'Tis a daring thought ! • ^ . 
 
 Vivien. Not more than that thou bearest, ! 
 
 That Mordred, squat and monster, lorn, despised, 
 Misgotten, friendless save to such as me. 
 Should rise in dreams to heights of Arthur's glory, • 
 
 And even lust to bed with Guinevere. . > .' 
 
 Mordred. What now ? Thou devil ! ' ■ 
 
 ^ Vivien. Ha ! Now I stabbed thy longings to the quick. 
 And probed thine ink-heart. — Thou dost love the Queen, 
 Thou, who doth dwell so far below her scorn ! 
 
 Mordred. Witch-hag or Devil ! Wert thou but a man, y 
 And I would quickly send thee to that hell - "; 
 
 Where thou belongest. w//t v ^\ >i\r - 
 
 yivien Nay, I fear thee not.^;^^^^- c^4<-fki^%*"r;^^'7i; 
 
 I am too much a part of all thy plans 
 For thee to quarrel with. Stab me and thou stabbest 
 The life of all thy longings. Let my blood. 
 And with it flows the making of thy dreams. 
 
70 MORDRED. ' , [aCT III. 
 
 Afordred. (Aside) 'Tis as she says. She's woven in my 
 And I must keep her, devil though she be. [web 
 
 Yea, Mordred ! Mordred ! (71; Vivien.) m' ; :; i / •. 
 Vivien thou art hasty, i ^ ^ i 
 
 In dreaming Mordred would do thee an evil. ,' , 
 
 'Twas but the sudden mantling of the blood. 
 Yea, I indeed do owe thee overmuch, 
 And Mordred will pay thee with what gratitude 
 Of words and acts as such as he possesses. 
 Yea, when my mind dwells on the what I was, 
 And that which I now am, an admiration 
 Sudden and great, comes o'er me at the change, 
 And the swift transformation thou hast made. ■• 
 Thou took'st a youth from out his sickly longings^ . . 
 Vague undefined with musings on this world, / 
 
 And sick with evil of a shadowed fate, ' 
 
 Dried up his kindness, showed him he was iron, 
 And gave the keys of cruelty to his hand . > . 
 
 Wherewith to pick the lock of this poor kingdom. 
 Yea, I am wrapt in admiration vast. ' > • 
 Then I would shudder did an evil thought. 
 Wandering vaguely through my caverned mind, 
 But stop and grin me. Now it seems mine act 
 Would neck and neck with Hell's most foul desire. ' 
 
 Yea, thou hast right in pride of workmanship ' - ' • 
 
 In building from material thou hadst ' , ' ; / • 
 
 So deft a moulded villain to thy hand. "^ .v> iM 
 
 Yea, Vivien, fear not Mordred will forget, ^ Kr , - V 
 When every waking moment on his bed, -r ;}> yv ;^v.J J^f^A 
 And every devil knocking on his sill, 
 Mindeth him of cause for gratitude. , . 
 
 Vivien. Wilt thou promise.-* 
 
 Mordred. Nay, I will never piomise ! 
 What right have I for pledges in this world, 
 Save pledge that I will topple all to ruin. 
 This give I Fate, as sure as I am Mordred. 
 I tell thee, Woman, I am thy slave no more, 
 Nor slave to any, be it man or devil. 
 
 ■''•.^ 
 
 '.,'>) 
 1 1 
 
SC. v.] MORDRED. / 7t 
 
 ; Vivien. What art thou then ? ' . v 
 
 Mordred. I am thy master. Thou wilt be my slave, 
 Thou cunning plotter, schemer to my hand, 
 To be my dagger, poison, flaming brand. 
 My very slave, convenience, creature, tool ; 
 And if thou art not, I'll trample, trample thee. 
 I tell thee I will thrust this kingship out ; 
 Will spin these actors round my crooked thumb. 
 Until this devil Mordred walketh king. 
 Little didst thou dream, what demon thou wert raising, 
 Vhen thou didst conjure Mordred. 
 
 Vivien, Darest thou me ? 
 
 Mordred. Yea, look into my glass and ask thyself. 
 What Mordred hath in life to hope or fear ? 
 But I do tell thee, Woman, Mordred in hell 
 Will be no tortured creature spinning round, ' 
 
 But himself the very devil. 
 To show my power of evilment, I tell thee, 
 I know thy fatal liking for myself. -^^^ - 
 'Tis the one part of thee that now can suffer, . ; : 
 
 The only part of thee that holdeth good. 
 
 Vivien. Nay, I will not hearken. 
 Mordred {siezes her wrist.) I'll bind thee on the rack as 
 
 [thou hast me, 
 Or rather finding me there, stretched my sorrows. 
 And show thee all the devil thou hast roused. ; . . . 
 Then hear me, I do scorn that love of thine ; ,; .. ,v!;.;rn - ' 
 Do trample on, despise, as I do thee I ,.;:i,> ^ if^J^f u ^* 
 
 Vivien. {^Falls on her face.) Nay Mordred, thou breakest 
 Nay, curse me not. [my heart, 
 
 Mordred. Yea, ask the rack for mercy when it racks, ^ 
 Or seek for honey in ttie aspick's sting ! 
 Yea, more, I tell thee plainly to thy face, ;a ; ,; , 
 
 Guinevere makes hell within my breast, ' " 
 
 And thou, my slave, wilt help me to her arms. 
 
 Vivien. One little smile, one little word of peace. 
 
72 , ' MOKDRM). [act III. 
 
 Afofdted. Nay, silence, or a curse ! Wilt thou do this? 
 
 Vivien. 'I'hou knowest I will, let me but touch thy hand! 
 Trampled on, despised, I love thee still. 
 
 Mordred. Now to the point, Launcelot goes this night 
 To secret assignation with the Queen, • 
 
 'I'his saving of her life hath patched their quarrel, 
 And thou must find for me the hour of meeting, 
 Must intercept the trusted messenger, 
 And bring me secret knowledge of the time. ' •'' 
 
 I go now with some knights unto the King, 
 To force his leave for this our undertaking, 
 And put their secret love to open shame. 
 I'hou must watch near the apartments of the Queen, 
 And take by fraud or force knowledge of the hour, 
 And bring it to my ears with thy best speed. 
 
 Vivien, Yea, I will. - . ; \Exit Mordred. 
 
 He hath read true, I am his slave at last, > 
 
 Aye, what a splendid devil he doth make. 
 There is no man like him in all this world. 
 I'll see him crowned, climb he there o'er my body. 
 
 \Cuttain 
 
 SCENE VI. — An mtdience room in the CastU. Enter 
 ;' ' Mordred, Sir Agravaine atid other Knights. . . 
 
 Mordred. 'Tis a delicate business we be come upoti, ' 
 Though one of grave importance, therefore I A' 
 
 Will stand i' the background, thou Sir Agravaine, ' ! < ' i^ • 
 Being a kinsman not o' the sinister side, . ; 
 
 May speak the plainer. Let it fall on me. ,>/ ,„ ^ m^ i»i^^ 
 Yea, I will answer with my body here. -' 
 
 Sir An;. Yea, I will put it plainly to the King, 
 And show the evil placed upon our house, 
 And that foul insult tendered King and kingdom, 
 By overbearing Launcelot and the Queen. 
 
 Other Knights. Yea, we are with you. 
 
SC. VI.] MORDRLD. 73 
 
 Enter a Page. 
 
 Sir Ag. We would see the King. 
 
 . . Exit Page, enter Arihur. 
 
 Arthur. What means this sudden assembling of knights 
 At this strange hour ? 
 
 Sir Ag. We would bring a matter to thy hearing, King, 
 Of grave import unto thyself and us 
 Of thine own household, who'd uphold thy pride. 
 Yea, one affecting the dignity of this land. 
 
 Arthur. What be this matter? 
 
 Sir Ag. The matter is one which toucheth thine own 
 And hath to do with Launcelot and the Queen. [honor, 
 
 Arthur. Dost thou insult thy King? {driuvs) 
 
 Sif^ Ag. Nay, thou dost insult thyself and us, 
 Doth thou not listen ! 
 
 Other Knights. Yea, King, 'tis true. 
 
 Arthur. Tis treason, damnable treason 'gainst my ()ueen, 
 'Gainst myself and 'gainst this noble kingdom. 
 
 Sir Ag. Wilt thou hear me. King ? 
 
 Other Knights. Yea, hear him. ' 
 
 Arthur, Then I will hear thee further, but tis plain, 
 You prove this on your bodies to the death. , ,. , 
 If this strange lie be not as true as Heaven, ■n. >. 
 
 Each man who thinks this damned treason dies 1 t 
 
 Knights. Tis just King, we will prove it on our bodies. 
 
 Sir Ag. We think, T.ord Arthur, thou art over-blind 
 To certain things that compromise thine honor. 
 And some of us have reason to suspect ? • i: 
 
 Sir Launcelot holdeth commerce with the Queen. , ; ' 
 
 Arthur. Stop! Catiff! .. . W^.. 
 
 Sir Ag. Wilt thou not hear it ? Tr^':E^I ^^^^ ^ - -^ 
 
 Arthur. Have ye forgotten that my name is Arthur ? 
 Or is this nobleness a vanished dream ? 
 'Tis damnable ! 
 
74 j * [ MORDRED. ' [act III. 
 
 St'r Ag. We would prove this same upon our bodies, 
 By taking of them in the very act. . 
 
 Arthur. No more ! by heaven, no more ! I say, no more I 
 Or by my crown, I'll cleave thy catiff tongue, . v 
 
 And spatter thine evil brains on yonder pavement, 
 That dared impeach my royalty of such dishonor. 
 
 Sir Ag. Nay, King, we will die for the truth of this matter. 
 
 Knights. Yea, Lord Aithur, we are so prepared. . 
 
 Arthur. Nay, ye are mad, blind, besotted mad. 
 
 Sir Ag. Nay, King, here is Sir Mordred who will show 
 The truth whereof we speak. [Mordred comes forivard. 
 
 Arthur. Ha I And it is thou that art at the bottom o' this 
 matter ! 
 
 Mordred. Sire, I would but do my duty to this kingdom, 
 And to the honor of your kingly place. 
 Sir Agravaine is over-blunt in speech. 
 And speaketh sudden on a cruel matter ; 
 Yet he hath but the right in this grave question, 
 Nor doth dishonor thee in this respect 
 More than do any of these royal knights. 
 But rather would show wherein thine honor lieth. 
 If dishonor lies therein, it doth not lie : " / 
 On them who'd prove the evilment suspected, • ; 
 
 But rather on those who by their treasonable act '• " ; ■ 
 Hath brought this shame upon us. It would seem 
 That thou dost love Sir Launcelot even more ■ 
 
 Than the unsullied honor of thy Queen. 
 
 Arthur. Nay ! Speak no more ! Thou hast insulted 
 If but one thousandth part of this be true, [Arthur. 
 
 Then is great Arthur's glory brought to ground. 
 
 Mordred. Sire! ^ 
 
 Arthur. No more of words ! What wouldst thou have me 
 
 [do? 
 
 Mordred. Sire, we would that thou give the opportunity 
 To prove the cruel substance of our coming 
 
SC. VII.] MORDREU. 75 
 
 By taking the doers iti the very act, 
 > And trapping Launcelot in the Queen's ajiartment. 
 
 Arthur. Go on ! Death ! Speak on! Accursed me I 
 
 Mordred. It thou wilt go abroad this coming night, 
 And advertise thy going, and grant to us 
 Sufficient knights to make the matter proof, 
 We will fulfil this matter with our lives. ^ 
 
 Knights. We will. 
 
 Arthur. And it hath come to this 1 " 
 
 Mordred. Sire, wilt thou grant this ? 
 
 Arthur. Yen, I will grant it, but by Arthur's honor, 
 The knight returning from such vile ambushment 
 Without full proof unto the open world 
 Of that which spills the sea of Arthur's glory, 
 Shall die the foulest death this kingdom lends ! 
 „ On this condition only do you go. 
 
 Mordred. Yea, we accept the condiiions. 
 
 .■ ■ 1', 
 
 Kfiights. Yea, we do. , ' \Curtain. 
 
 SCENE VII. — A passage near the Queeri's apartments. 
 
 ,;,\..v---/ '■ , <■■- En/er ViviKN. ■.- '■' :' 
 
 Vivien. Now slave but do the bidding of thy master. 
 And soon the boding hour will draw anigh 
 When Guinevere will queen a royal hunch-back. 
 Now serve me well my wits until I play 
 The issue of this matter to my mind. .. : 
 
 [^Retires into an a /core. 
 
 Enter Unid t/ie Quekn's Maid, 7vith a ting. 
 
 Now drat that page ! What can the matter be ? ^ ," 
 This ring must go but who will be the bearer, 
 It bothereth me to discover? 
 
 \^Passes out on- left. 
 
/ ■ ' vj", ! 
 
 MORDRKI). [act. III. 
 
 Ddfjonet. O mc ! inc ! me ! that ever I did that deed. 
 {To Spirit) Nay ! nay ! Spirit, come not here ! 
 Hide, hide that woeful face. Sleep, sleep 
 Quiet 'i the f^rave ! Dagonct tneant it not. 
 Ha ! ha ! I'll laugh and be merry. "Tis but my wits. 
 I'll think on Vivien. Nay, nay, not that face I 
 1 slew thee not, .\way ! away ! 
 'Tis but a fancy but it lifts the hair 
 In frosty'bristlcs, makes the eyeballs stare, 
 And turns me to a horror. .Away ! Away ! 
 
 Re-enter Maid. 
 What play is now. Sir Fool, that thy wit playeth ? 
 
 Da\io7iet. Oh ! tis thou ! ^ . 
 
 Unid. 'Tis said that thou art looking at the Queen, 
 And wouldst oust Sir Launcelot. Thou art a bold fool. 
 
 '^'iqonet. Nay, nay; tis thou sweet Unid rendeth my heart. 
 
 Unid. Now art thou a kind fool. 
 
 Da^onet. Is the Queen within ? 
 
 h Unid. She sleepeth. 
 
 : Diii^onet. I will sing thee a song. {Sinys.) 
 
 * " It rose upon the month o' May, 
 
 v^;/ V V When woods were filled with laughter, 
 
 ■jy''% Came Margery trii)ping up the way, ^^^ 'J 
 
 v'. • And Jock a stealing after. /•//'< 
 
 y-¥-- (To spirit.) Away! away! ' , V > 
 
 
 It rose in Autumn's afternoon 
 When love was dead and laughter. 
 That Jock went striding 'r^eath the moon, 
 And Margery pining after. 
 
 {To spirit.) Away ! I say, away ! 
 
 Unid. Well acted. Fool, and well sung. 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, it is a part of me. 
 
SC. VII.] MOKDUED. ff 
 
 Unid. {Aside) He will do. {To Dagonet) Fool, wilt 
 thou deliver a message for me ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea, by my love. 
 
 Untd, It be a i)ressing business, and a private one. 
 
 \Speaks in a lo7v voiie. 
 Thou seest this ring. It is the Queen'.«?. Thou needs 
 must fmd Sir Launcelot, and deliver it to him privately 
 and say ! "This night afore midnight." 
 
 Dagonet. What doth it mean ? 
 
 Unid. It meaneth, do thy part, and shut thy ears and 
 mouth, and put a padlock on thine inward thoughts. 
 Wilt thou do it ? 
 
 Dagonet. Yea that I will, 'tis for the Queen, {to spirit) 
 Away 1 away ! Haunt me not ! 
 
 Unid. What aileth thee ? 
 
 Daqonet, Did I speak? 
 
 Unid. Thou spokest as to someone. . 
 
 Daijonet. '1 is but an infirmity. 
 
 Unid. ' Tis a queer one. Thou wilt be speedy and private ? 
 
 Dagonet. 'I'hat I will. Not one kiss ? 
 
 Unid. Away ! away ! Haunt me not. 
 
 ■ ■ ■'-'■ ;■■'-■.--■■ ' ' ■ - • • ' ■ ■ ^ . ■ ■ {Exit. 
 
 [Vivien comes from the alcove, 
 
 Vivien. Ha! thou false lover ! 
 
 [Dagonet drops the ring. 
 
 Dasonet. 'Tis thou I , 
 
 Vivien. Caught in the act, sott words and lovers songs, 
 And rings exchanged, and even kisses proffered. 
 Thou Double-Dealer ! Thou wouldst seek my love ? * 
 
 Dagonet. I tell thee thou art wrong. 'Tis the appearances 
 are at fault. ,>.» 
 
 Vivien. Thou liest I Didst thou riot offer to buss her ? 
 
 Dagonet. ' Twas but a sally to cover mine inward thoughts. 
 
78 MORDREIJ, [act III. 
 
 m 
 
 Viviev. Thou liest again. What were those low words she 
 - spake, when she took thy hand ? ; 
 
 Dagonet. 'Twas but a message she gave me on a private 
 matter. -^' "■. - ^ 
 
 Vivien. Oh ! oh ! very private ! Dagonet, very private ! 
 
 Daifmet. I cannot tell thee of its import. 
 
 Vivien. Nay, thou canst not, for thou liest. 
 
 Dagonet. I tell thee, Vivien, thou wilt madden me. 
 1 tell thee, 1 love thee only, and thou knowest it. 
 
 Vivien. What was the substance of that message ? 
 
 Dagonet. If thou must have it, and thou draggest my 
 > ■ '. heart out, it was from the Queen. The words, " tonight 
 afore midnight." 
 
 Vivien. A true story ! To thee ? ^ 
 
 Dagonet. Nay, to Sir 1 .auncelot. 
 
 Vivien. Thou liest ! Canst thou explain that ring she 
 gave thee ? {picks it up) . ., 
 
 Dai^onet. 'Tis the Queen's. 
 
 Vivien. Ho! ho ! And thou the trusted messenger! 'Tis 
 a likely story. Wouldst have me believe it ? 
 
 Dagonet. Vivien, I tell thee that T love thee, and am in 
 Hell for thee, aye, in Hell ! 
 
 Vivien. Thou forgettest thine important message, thou 
 most trusted lover and messenger. 
 
 Dagonet. Vivien, wilt thou not believe m.e ? 
 
 Vivien. Go, go, I tell thee, I will see thee again. '* ' ^ 
 
 -, ; « >^- [^Exit Dagonet' 
 
 Vivien. Now cometh the hour when my revenge ap- 
 Now winds my web about doomed Camelot, [proacheth, 
 An angered fate hangs o'er these castle walls. 
 There will be bloody deeds abroad tonight. 
 Rise Spirits of old vengence and affright ! 
 Vivien conquereth. Wait ! wait ! [Curtain. 
 
.*">«; >' ' 
 
 SC. I.] MQRDRED. - 79 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I. — (Ili'sc outer curtain.) Passage neat the 
 Queen's apartments. Enter Dagonet. 
 
 Daiionef. 'Tis little I can do, but I will mend 
 The devilment that I have helped to cause. 
 Hark, now they come ! Here will I take my stand. 
 'Tis over my dead body when they come, 
 That they'll come at her. Ho I stand without ! 
 
 {Sounds heard without. Efiter Mordred, Sir Agravaini^: 
 and other Knights with torches a7id naked swords. Dag- 
 0NH,T draws.) 
 
 Where go you. Masters? 
 
 Mordred. We go this road, 'ware how you stop our way. 
 
 Dagonet, The man who goes this road goes o'er my 
 body. 
 
 Sir Ag. Louse! take that ! {Stads Dagonkt, he /a//s.) 
 
 Mordred. 'Tis the King's jester. 
 
 Dagonet. You have leeched my folly. Now is the jest 
 Vivien ! {dies) [ended. 
 
 A Knight. He was a man after all. 
 
 Mordred. Onward Knights to better game than this, 
 Though little we know the tragedy that ended 
 When yon poor light went out ! Come this way ! 
 
 \Exit ali. 
 
 {Rise inner curtain.) The Queen's apartment, Launcelot 
 
 rt//// Guinevere. , ; ... 
 
 ^, - ■ . ,,,.>.,.,.-., , , . 
 
 Laun. I come this night to bid you a long farewell, 
 Before I leave this kingdom's shores for ever. 
 This love doth hold me in a demon's grasp, -. , i 
 And my heart breaks to feel great Arthur's love, . i 
 
 And all the time we twain be meeting thus. ^""-\ . 
 
 Guin. Nay, nay Launcelot, leave me not forlorn, 
 I cannot live without thee. Thy strong arms, 
 
8o . , Mor.DkKi). [act iv. 
 
 And thy warm kisses are to me the one 
 
 Fair garden springing on this drearsome earth. 
 
 Laun. Lady 1 must go. My lands in France, 
 Tribute 'o my sword, I'll make a kingdom. 
 And pass my days in memories of thee. 
 
 Gum, Nay, nay thou wilt not go, and if thou must, 
 My heart will bleed for thee until my death. 
 
 Unid. {hurry in^iT i?i.) Madam, there is treason without. 
 Many arm^d knights do come this way. 
 
 Laun. Now is the end come I have long expected, 
 The grim fatality of all my fears. 
 The nightmare real at last. Quick I my Sweet ! 
 Kiss me your latest now. This is my death ! 
 
 Guin. Launcelot, save, save thyself, 
 I will bar them with my body here. 
 They will but trample a dead, dishonored Queen, 
 Whom brute fatality made its passing sport. 
 Quick ! that way ! 
 
 Laun. Nay, nay, sweet Love, but I will die with thee. 
 And show great love can make a greater death. 
 {Draws) Would to(jod I had mine armour. 
 {Loud knocking heard at the door and the voice ^/"Mordred 
 *' \heard without. 
 
 Come out thou traitor Launcelot and show the world 
 The face of him who hath dishonored Arthur. 
 Come out thou Traitor. 
 
 Guin. Launcelot save thyself, there is time yet. 
 
 Laun. Nay, Love, Til end me here, if be my fate. 
 Ho ! Cowards without I I am a single man, 
 Devoid of armour having but my sword, - vh^ ' 
 
 Yet will I open and give you Hell's glad welcome. sii 
 
 {Unbars the door^ Sir Agravaine rushes in) 
 
 Laun. Die Hound ! {brains him,) Launcelot drags him 
 
 -^■^-^ -^---^ [aside and bars the door. 
 
 Quick ! Help me to this armour ! {takes the arms from 
 
 [Sir Agravaine's body, and arms himself.) 
 
SC. II. 1 MORDRKn. 8l 
 
 Gttin. (^Helpiiif^ liim) Aye, Love, if prayers are aught, will 
 mine clothe thee. 
 (yviecs outside^) Open up ! Traitor ! oj)en up ! 
 
 Guin. Great Ood, (ireat (lod, help this f)oor (^ueen who 
 prays ! (Launcklot buckles his armour.) 
 
 Latin. Now am I ready, fare thee well, sweet Love. 
 Whatever haps, and we may meet no more, 
 This side of darkness; carry to thy grave, 
 That Launcelot loved thee, thee, and only thee. 
 
 Guin. Oh, Launcelot, my heart breaks, {ihey embrace^ the 
 i^XjV.VM faints.) (Launcklot to the maids,) Take her 
 back frotn this, protect her, keep her safe. 
 This work is not tor her sweet presence. Now heaven help 
 The man that meeteth Launcelot's blade this night ! 
 {^Voices without,) Coward ! Traitor ! wilt thou open up ? 
 
 Laun. Yea, Traitors who foreswore the name of knight, 
 When like some drunken rabble ye poluted 
 The gentle sacredness of these apartments. 
 And every man who shamed her ears tonight 
 {Throws open the doors) shall die ! die ! die ! Come on 
 Devils ! ( They rush in and then /all back in surprise.) 
 
 Laun. Ha ! ha ! here's wine that Launcelot's blade 
 would drink. Die, Devils ! {rushes fortvard hacking 
 fiercely with his sword, twelve knights fall one after the 
 other. ) 
 
 Alordred. Cod of Heaven, let us back ! This man be mad ! 
 (Retreats with four knights, Launcelot slays the rest.) 
 
 Laun. Come on, ye Fiends of Hell ! I'll back me here, 
 ■ ;;. Launcelot is a man of honour I 
 
 SCENE li. — Sir J j\u:^celot's apartment, midnight. Enter 
 
 several Yj[\\^\.% with torches and swords. 
 
 Sir Ban. Hello there ! wake up ! ' .« = 
 
 Knights. Hello! Within! Within 1 {L.oud knocking heard 
 at the doo.-'s Enter several other knights. Enter Sir 
 Launcelot.) 
 
82 MoKDui;!). [act IV. 
 
 Laun. What means this that ye be armed ? 
 
 Sir, Han. Strange horrors woke us fr^jzen from onr beds. 
 Hideous nightmares beset us. Souie heard moanings, 
 some that grave-bells rang, and others saw strange 
 s[)ectres, and I myself heard clash of mighty arms, and 
 quick each man found himself leaped from his bed, 
 naked l)lade in hand. What may it portend ? we be 
 much affrighted 1 
 
 Laun. "lis a true portent. Now the end hath come 
 Of peace and hapj^iness for this doomed kingdom. 
 To-night on private meeting with the (^)ueen. 
 In her a]>artinents, there was I surrounded, 
 And hounded traitor, slew so many knights, 
 'I'here's scarce one left to tell the King the story. 
 
 Kni(/hts, A most foul and dastard attack ! The kingdom 
 is doomed. - 
 
 Entf'v (I, Messenger. 
 
 Laun. The (^ueen ! quick ! the Queen ! what of her ? 
 
 Mesa. An order hath come in the King's name ; 
 She is to be burnt tomorrow noon. 
 
 Laun. Never ! by my blade, she shall not die 1 
 
 Kniijhts. She shall not ! she shall not! on our lives ! 
 
 SCENI'^ \\\.--The KiNd's hdi^c in tlic forest. Arthur 
 
 , .J, : .; I M wai/dn^ back and forth. . ^.. ,. _ .^.-^ v> 
 
 . Arthur. Would I had not done this ! Heaven this hour 
 Be kind to this poor king, susi)end thy wrath. 
 For my past frailties judge me not too heavy. ,^ . 2 \J. 
 Oh, were it dawning ! Nay if it be shame, 
 Night roll for ever round your shrouding glooms.' ' 
 Hide Arthur's woe in your convenient black. .? . s^ *'^ 
 
 Rise not, O, pitiless Day with searching white, 
 Showing abroad catastrophe and doom. 
 Hark 'tis the messenger. Now my royal soul, 
 
SC. Ill,] . MOKDUI'.I). Hj 
 
 Is it black or white, is it death or hfc tf) thcc ? 
 
 {Entt't MessiJKjer) Sire ! , , , 
 
 Arthur. Speak ! Is it calamity? 
 
 Mess. Yea, Sire, it is calaiiiity, Sir [/.luiicelot ta'en, — 
 
 Arthur. In the (^)uten's (luiiuber ? 
 
 Mess. Yea, Sire. . 
 
 Arthur. 'I'iieii sai)le Ni^ht shut out the morning now. 
 C), !5j,'irkuess, bury Arthur in thy shroud ! 
 O, ('alauiities |,ell, pelt your fire ! 
 Sink now, proud Arthur, sink to rise no more. 
 
 KnJi'.r MoKDKED and two KNKiHis. 
 
 Monlnd. We b»*ing you evil news in sorry haste. 
 I.auneelot ta'en by us in the (,)ueen's apartments, 
 When we, liailinj^ him traitor, would bring him out, 
 Then he mad with a devil did issue forth. 
 And slay the most of us, so that we are scarce fled with our 
 As th(.'se two knights do witness. [lives, 
 
 Kit'ujitfs 'I'is true, King. ... 
 
 Arthur. Murder and 'I'reason walk abroad this night. 
 Adultery and Incest leave their graves. 
 Arthur, Arthur thou art a king no more ! 
 
 Mordred, We would arrest the Queen, did we know thy 
 
 will. ■:--■'-■-'■'■ ■.,-.' '■ ■.',.'--■, . ;..,-Y<' ',;- "v .^ ■ . ^ ' .• 
 
 Arthur. O, Night ! Night! Night! " ' '' 
 
 Mordrcd. 'Tis not an hotir for grief and memories, Sire, 
 Hut action, instant action, is the word. 
 
 If thou wouldst keej) thy kingdom. Sir Launcelot knowelh 
 'I'hat thou wert ])rivy to this lieavy matter, ■■_ .j'-'^^-y ■*"'.■> ^, 
 And swearing direst vengeance on us all, :1 'v',v ^^ 
 
 Huildeth a parly ior to help the Queen, ;>jiv' ii il '/;;.;;# 
 And oust thee from thy royalty. , ■ - vv ' > I'jjljV _vr' 
 
 Arthur. Dost thou not know I loved this Launcelot. -.a^ 
 And had I chosen a brother or a son 
 It had been I.auncelotl C)h thou cruel World ! 
 Thou hast no cloud of evils br(K;ding dire, 
 
»'i'; 
 
 84 MOnORKT). I ACT IV. 
 
 S() niiirh liiith raineJ. Mordnjd take my crown, 
 To illegitimacy jjass my glory now. 
 
 Mordrcd. Nay Sire ! but be a king until thou tnkest 
 A King's dread vengeance on thine enemies. 
 
 Arthur. iMiemies thou sayest. Who so low, 
 T.) stoop to hate this cuckold, shamed king. 
 I am a king no more, my 'I'able Round 
 Is but a stall-yard where the swine of men 
 Will rend and snarl and tear my glory down. 
 
 Enter (JWAINK. 
 
 Gwaifie. This is a bad and foolish matter, King, 
 And th )U wert fool to fetch it to an issue. 
 liut now thou makest bad worse. Didst thou send out 
 Vox I^auncelot's arrest and the (Queen's murder? 
 
 Mordred. 'I'he order hath gone out in the King's name. 
 I'is gone too far for compromises now. 
 
 Gnmi'iw. Tis thou hast done all this, thou Plotter ! 
 
 Mordrcd. Thou liest ! Tis but the natural end of circum- 
 stance that worked its issue. I tell thee, the King 
 ordered this. 
 
 Gwaim. King, didst thou give these orders ? 
 
 Arthur, (iwaine thy words were ever over-blunt, 
 liut now they're fitting. None need show me reverence. 
 
 Gwaine. Know I not reverence, but I would of facts. 
 Didst thou proclaim that (iuinevere should die 
 Jieing found of treason foul against thy person, 
 And doom her to the stake tomorrow noon ? 
 
 Arthur. 'I'lie Queen ! the (pieen ! tliou sayest, I'll have 
 If there be a Queen tomorrow in this land, [no queens ! 
 She shall die the death ! 'tis the King's word ! ' 
 
 Mordred. Now thou hast thine answer. 
 
 Gwaine. Then fear Sir Launcelot's hate and split this 
 Topple yonder King and bring h'm down, [kingdom, 
 
 As thou wouldst love to. Gwaine will none o' this. 
 
■■ ;-4'.,- ■', 
 
 SC, III. I MORDKF.I). 85 
 
 'I'hc Pope shall hear il ! What's a woman worth ! 
 That truth, or untruth, she should wreck .1 kingdom ? 
 
 KiUc/r a Messenger in haute. 
 
 Mordred. Speak ! 
 
 Mess. Sir Launrelot and many Knights have rescued the 
 (^)ueen and have taken her to Joyeous Ouarde, and in 
 the <|iiick struggle Sir (iareth, and Sir Lynnette were 
 , slain. 
 
 Arthur. More woes ! More woes ! Where will this end ? 
 
 Mortinul. {To Sir (iwAiNK) Now art thou satisfied? 
 
 Gwaine. (7V> Mkss.) What! 'I'hou liesl ! tell me my 
 brothers be slain ? 
 
 Mess. 'Tis true, Master, mine own eyes saw them dead. 
 
 (Iwaifie. Hell ! wlio did the deed ? 
 
 Mess. Sir Launcelot himself. He rode (juick i' the Court 
 And lighted and hacked without looking at whom he 
 met, to reach the (^)ueen, whom bearmg to horse, he 
 stayed not to see who were dead or wounded but 
 straight rode away. 
 
 (Jwatne. I'his world or the next, he will answer me ! 
 Hell ! mine own two l)rothers, and all for a damned wench I 
 Queen or no, King, thou shall answer here. 
 Yea, all shall answer for this damned business. 
 
 Mordred. Yea, I will help thee. ''J' was most unnatural. 
 Who never harmed him, he should serve them so. 
 
 (jlwaine. Launcelot, Launcelot, now I cast thee out, i^ 
 One world won't hold us ! 
 
 Mordred. This works my way. O World, thou art mould- 
 To my poor vengeance ! [ing swift 
 {To ArtJmr.) Sire what wilt thou do? ■• *^ 
 
 Arthur. '1 o arms, to arms, we'll siege him in his hold. 
 'Tis death that^cures dishonor. He will reap 
 The swift dread harvest of Heaven's retribution. 
 
86 . MORDRED. / [act IV.; . 
 
 Gwaine. Would Launcelot were but two men, I'd slay ~ 
 'Twould suit my feelings. [.lim twice. 
 
 SCENE \W.—(Rise outer curtain.') Court at Camelot. 
 
 Enter tivo Gentlemen. 
 
 1st Gent. Were I the weaker kind, I'd trickle tears 
 For this poor kingdom. Hast thou seen the Pope's bull ? 
 
 2nd Gent. Yea, forbidding the carrying on of this strange 
 And commanding Arthur to take back his Queen, [war, 
 And give Sir Launcelot passage from the Kingdom. 
 He be a wondrous Knight, this Launcelot. 
 'Tis pity this love o'ercame him. 
 
 ■ \ i 
 
 Both pass out. iE'///<?r Vivien 7//^/ Mordred. tstj^/JC 
 
 livien. My heart grows hot to bring things to an issue. 
 
 Mordred. Patience I and thou wilt see the issue come. 
 Launcelot banished, Arthur follows atter, v.f^iAV 
 
 With blustering Gwaine, both ravening for war. ^V ou j 
 
 Arthur will leave me regent, then's mine hour. '■''■ 
 
 {Both pass on.) {Rise inner curtain.) {Enter ArtlHUR, takes 
 his state. Knights and Ladies. Ttumpets bloiv imth- 
 out. Enter Launcelot 7vith the Queen draped in 
 blacky with her Ladies. Launcelof leads the Queen, 
 '^oho stands. LauncI'-Lot kneels. Arthur avetts his 
 face. T^auncelot speaks.) 
 
 . Laun. Sire ! by order of the Pope of Rome 
 And your most royal promise, here I bring 
 Unto your keeping Guinevere the Quei i\. 
 And dares one knight within these royal precincts 
 Impugn her chastity or queenliness, 
 I meet him with my body. 
 
 Arthur. Madam, I acknowledge you as Queen. 
 It is the will of Heaven. I submit. 
 But loving wife thou art no more to me. 
 
SC. IV...,.- ^,:-.' ...-'\../:% MORDRED. .-.:.-•. ^/.V./' ' "' S7 
 
 Not Pope nor Prince can white thy black in this. ; ^^^ : 
 
 (Gvii^EYERE fakes her s/a/e. v < v 1 3. ;F fi; 
 
 Gum. Arthur of Britain, I answer thee, the King, r ? '^ 
 I am no more thy wife nor ever was, '■^•^'-^■'''■'-^'^'■■.:^:-\,cr.,:/'^-' ' 
 Nor am I shamed as Queen to own the love • < 
 
 I've borne for Launcelot. In the coming world , pr 
 
 He will be mine, as I am truly hi?. . ' 
 
 I wronged thee not great Arthur, but 'twas thou ^".y"'-,.^':^j 
 And hellish circumstance have wrecked my days, 'r'''":!'^-'^^?'',' 
 JTis the Queen's answer, she will speak no more. 
 
 Arthur. Sir Launcelot Du Lake, arrse ! (Launcelot 
 Launcelot Du Lake, thou traitor knight, [stands. 
 
 Sinner against the honor of this realm, ^^V 
 I banish thee for ever from this kingdom, V ' 
 
 On pain of foulest death, dost thou return. ' \ ' 
 
 Laun. Sire, I accept the issue. ' \ 
 
 Mordred. 'Tis but a gentle majesty that leans ';i: ,. •* 
 
 To mercy such as this, were I thy king — 
 
 Gwaitie, Yea, get thee quick. Fast as thou nearest France 
 We Fail the faster. Thou shalt meet with Gwaine, 
 And pay his brother's spirits thou hast slain, 
 Thou foul lewd traitor ! 
 
 Laun. Lord Arthur, thou hast reason to scorn me now, 
 And all thine anger stabs mine inward soul; - 
 But now tis open I must tell thee true, *. 
 
 I love Queen Guinevere as mine own body, , 
 
 And her alone will love unto my death, 
 As to none other. For this woeful love, 
 I'll answer to my God who put it there, '* 
 
 And not to man, nor even to thee, proud King. ^ ^, ^ 
 And yet I say it, yea with breaking heart, 'i-- .?>..■ 
 
 I love thee, King, as doth no other man, ' 
 And did no hideous fate come in between ^ ^^ff'^^^r .7 
 I had been thy Launcelot still. ^" i^ -■■ 
 
 Arthur. (Aside) Great God ! Now my heart breaketh. 
 (To Launcelot) Begone, false Knight. 'Tis enough. 
 
 
88 .. - „ MORDRED. ■; ACT IV. 
 
 
 i.* 
 
 Latin. Yea yet a little, Sire, it is the end. 
 If Gwaine would hearken I would answer him - % 
 For his two brothers. v- :- ^' 
 
 Gwaine. Nay, nay I'll not hearken. v^' ivr .';r ? ;, 
 
 Latin. Tis ended then, but I would say to thee, /']' 
 That nothing next to this most heavy matter. 
 The most dread, sorrowful matter in' this poor world, 
 Hath grieved me so as that I did that deed. ' -S'-Z ''''■': .Z 
 All blinded with my sorrow for the Queen, ] , .Vr^ 
 
 I knew not 'twas your brothers that I slew. 
 
 Gwaine. Nay, nay, blood, blood alone will answer. , , 
 
 Laun. (To t/ie Qveen) ^ -' ,. 
 
 And thou sad Guinevere, thou Queen of women, . .^ ; 
 Sweetest of soul and form upon this earth, i .^ 
 I'll look upon thy beauteous face no more. 
 Let womanhood blossom the days to come, 
 There never-more will be one like to thee. 
 (Bends and kisses her hand) (Guinevere goes toward him) 
 
 Guin. Launcelot, take me with thee, I am thine. 
 Arthur. And thou the Queen ? 
 
 Guin. I am no Queen of realm save this man's heart. 
 And where he treads, that land to me alone 
 Beloved of the kingdoms of this earth. , v 
 
 Oh ! take me Launcelot, my Lord! my King I .' 
 
 Arthur. Ladies, the Queen to her apartments! ' \ ; 
 
 Laun. I would not shame thy kindness, Guinevere. 
 We were each others ere this world began, .. 
 And we together, unshatned yet will go . ., , 
 
 To meet our God, sweet Love farewell, farewell. 
 (Hurries out. The Quekn Iwnie slowly to her apartments 
 
 [weeping,) 
 
 Arthur. Oh, black brute Evil, why was Arthur born ? 
 Now is all loveliness gone out from life. 
 Yea, I will sink. Nay, I am Arthur still. 
 The Kingly still, defying Hell and Fate. 
 To arms 1 to arms ! Red battle is my mood. 
 
SC. V. MORDRED. ^^-: v^^^^ 89 
 
 Mofdred. Yea, battle ! '^■\iy^r':<^-'r-Mh)^H^'i'^>i 
 
 Gwaine. Yea, blood, for blood ! my brother's spirits call. 
 
 Arthur. My heart awakens ! Mordred, as my regent, 
 I leave thee fillial keeper of my crown, 
 My queen and kingdom, while I wed with war, , ■. 
 And bring as issue, yon foul Launcelot's doom. 
 Make my forces ready. France ! is the word. 
 
 All. (draiv swords and shout) Yea, battle ! x':.^'^^^ [Curiam. 
 
 -^,,Vt.. ;;\ -■• 
 
 SCENE v.— A Corridor in the Palace. Enter two 
 
 Gentlemen. - • • 
 
 1st Gent. Hast heard the news ? Mordred's usurped the 
 kingdom, hath seized the Queen, and backed by half 
 the realm doth challenge Arthur to a warm home- 
 coming. Tis said he hath plotted this long time and 
 now hath proved his chances. How stand you in this 
 
 . most bitter struggle ? ^ -^V ^1 ''•-!! l ^c? Tv'/v, 
 
 2nd Gent. I'm for Arthur and now for Dover and France 
 this coming night. X« '■'/''' '"'-'/"'. 
 
 1st Gent. Then 1 am with you. May we bring these shores 
 New peace from this usurper when we come [exit doth. 
 
 \Enter YiviE'S with a dagger. 
 
 Vivien. Nay he shall never make her Queen. Nay never ! 
 She shall die first ! No Queen but Vivien 
 Shall royal it while Mordred lifts the crown. 
 His slave, his creature, yea, in all save this. 
 I'll make her beauty wan, I'll curtain her lights. 
 Yea she shall Queen in Tartarus this night. 
 (sounds heard without^ Vivien gets behind the tapestry.) 
 
 Enter Mordred as King. 
 
 Mordred. Now have I reached the pinnacle of my revenge 
 In these uncertain heights of Arthur's glory. 
 And even now I sicken of the struggle. 
 Even now I top a tower of fear. 
 
90 MORDRED. i v ACT IV. 
 
 A thousand swords, would leap at my command, 
 
 And swim this land in blood at my one word, ■ ,?, 
 
 Would at a stronger power but turn and rend me. 
 
 The thousand throats that this morn shouted, '* Mordred ! " 
 
 Tomorrow morn may shout as loud for Arthur. 
 
 'Tis but a petty thing to be a King, 
 
 And strut an hour to crown a people's will 
 
 And make them think they wield a majesty, 
 
 And hold a phantom rule ; then pass and be ' > " ' 
 
 A little dust in a forgotten heap. 
 
 Nay, 'tis not worth the blacking of a soul, .^ ;- 
 
 The letting of a single human life, :. v;^: -r / • • > 
 
 The fouling o'er of youthful memory. ,- ,. . :- 
 
 And 1 am now this self^contemn^d thing, ' 1^4/?^ ' 
 
 A man of truest sorrows who descended 
 
 From out the pedestal of nobler dreams, 
 
 And used the subtle intrigues of this world 
 
 To climb this pyramid of human weakr js. ' - 
 
 And now I hate it as I hate myself 
 
 Who stooped to gain it. Yet must Mordred king i xs ; 
 
 This realm with a tyranny that fear 
 
 Wields o'er a monarchy that knows not love. >, , ; , ;1; 
 
 And burn his heart out for a woman's scorn. ■ :^ 
 
 Yea she shall be my Queen if love can win her. 
 
 Bn/er Guinevere as a State Prisoner ...>;, 
 
 Marched. Madam, I would detain you. 
 
 Guin. Usurper King ! what means this bringing of me 
 I deemed the shelter of a sisterhood [here ? 
 
 Were not denied me. 
 
 Mordred. Madam, I would to you unfold this matter, 
 I am not all you think me in your scorn 
 Though I be born mis-shapen, yet my soul 
 Hath appetite for beauty like a man's 
 That shows the inward in the outward meiii. 
 Madam, I would lay the matter plainly, 
 I have long been a victim to thy beauties, 
 And would new-make thee Queen of this old Kingdorti. 
 
SC. V. MORDRED. . . .^''^C^i^'t ■' r'''","-'^ 
 
 6^?^m. Never ! Were Laiincelot or Arthur standing by, 
 Insulter of thy Queen, thou wouldst die. . . 
 
 Make way ! Make way ! 
 
 Mordrpd. Madam, have compassion on my weakness 1 
 A soul is lodged within this crooked body. 
 No man hath ever loved as Mordred loves. 
 
 Guin. Make way ! this be hideous. 
 
 Mordred. Lady, let your own sorrow plead for Mordred's 
 As thou hast loved Launcelot unhappy, .■^, , [sorrow. 
 
 So he loves thee. ;>■'- ' • ; ^ 
 
 Guin. Show thy love by closing this audience quickly. 
 I am all Launcelot's in this world and the next, ,y : . / 
 As Heaven knoweth. 
 
 Mordred. Then thou wilt not have compassion. ■; : ;: 
 
 Guin. I pity thee, but this may never be. T * ^ : 
 
 Mordred. Never? 
 
 Guin. Al I am a Queen, never ! 
 
 Mordred. Lady thy pity doth but little help me. 
 Yet will I show thee Mordred hath a heart. 
 Know then thou hast killed the spark of Mordred's hope. 
 And silenced the music of this world for him, 
 Yet lady as rightful kmg of this great land 
 He grants thee safest passage where thou wilt. • • - ^ 
 
 Guin. I would go to a Nunnery. 
 
 Mordred. As thou wilt. Not one word ? Not one token ? 
 
 Guin. Prince, thou hast my respect and gratitude 
 For this thine act. 
 
 [^Exit Guinevere and her train. 
 
 Vivien comes Jortvard. 
 
 Vivien. Ha I Ha ! Ha ! King Mordred ! 
 
 Mordred. (Springs forward and draws.) Fiend ! thou 
 diest ! {lie clutches her, they stand confronting each 
 other.) Nay, nay and thou didst hear all ? Nay, I 
 will not kill thee. Thy punishment hath been more 
 
92 MORDRED. ACT IV. 
 
 than I could mete thee. I see sharp agony in thine 
 evil face. Yea, Woman thou hast suffered. 
 
 Vivien. Oh God ! My love ! My love ! {would stab 
 
 [lierself. 
 
 Mordred. Nay, die not ! {tkroios the dagger away) Thou 
 deservest thy reward. Mordred will crown this farce 
 and make thee Queen. 
 
 Vivien, Me ! thy wife ? 
 
 Mordred, Nay, nay, nor mistress even, only Queen. 
 
 [Curtain. 
 
 SCENE VI. — France — A Tent on the Field near Launce- 
 lot's Castle. Arthur -paces to and fro. v 
 
 Arthur. I would I were on British soil again 
 This leaguer goes but feebly. I am sick 
 Of losing battles to this Launcelot, 
 Whose strength and prowess in far kinder days, 
 Was my heart's pride. Arthur thy star grows dark. 
 Thou canst not keep the love of woman. Nay, 
 Men's friendships turn to traitor on the lips. 
 Oh, Merlin ; couldst thou now but see thine Arthur. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 
 Arthur. Well ! 
 
 Mess. Sir Launcelot met Sir Gwaine beneath the wall. 
 And of all the bloody fights betwixt them two, 
 Which have enhorrored this ensanguined war. 
 This was the bloodiest. 
 
 Arthur. Speak on ! 
 
 Mess. Sir Gwaine be mortal wounded, so it seemeth. 
 
 Arthur. Nay ! 
 
 Mess. He even fought on after he was down, 
 Till his blade fell from out his palsied hand. 
 
SC. VI.] MORDRED. 95 
 
 Arthur. This time maketh thrice that he hath been 
 And surely this will cool his fiery blood. [defeated, 
 
 He is the strongest hater I have known 
 In all my royalty. He would as lief go 
 To Hell, so that his foe might forfeit Heaven. 
 
 Enter Gwaine, home by Squires and Attendants. 
 
 Gwaine. Let me forth — forth, I say ! Hell ! catiffs, I 
 I would at him. Oh ! [be better now. 
 
 Attendants. Sire, if he rest not he will die. 
 The blood runneth from him m streams s ;!^ ir^n^ 
 
 So we cannot quench it, do he not lie still. ^^ * • • 
 
 Gwaine. King, I be a shamed man. Damn this world ! 
 I will shut it out o' my knowledge. I be in pieces. 
 
 Arthur. Thou hast had enough, temper thy hates. 
 And do thy brothers more they lodge in Hell. 
 I am for England. ;^/:r 
 
 Gwaine. Nay, King, let me but once more. " 
 
 Arthur. Thou canst scarce utter, thou wilt die. 
 
 Gwaine. Nay, I will stand his front so long as'I may hold 
 a blade, and shake it at him. ! 
 
 Enter a Messenger in great haste. 
 
 Arthur. Whence come you ? 
 
 Mess. From England. Mordred hath made him King. 
 
 Arthur. Nay ! nay ! 
 
 Mess. Tis true, artd seized the Queen. 
 
 Arthur. Great Heaven ! 
 
 Mess. Even now he sitteth robed in thy late state, 
 And wieldeth puissance. 
 
 Gwaine. The damned hunchback ! 
 
 Arthur. Oh World, would I were gone ! My Queen untrue, 
 My heart's best brother traitor, even my son, 
 Mine ill-got son doth rend me. Who would now 
 Hold fate with sunken Arthur ? 
 
94 MORDRED. ACT IV. 
 
 ( To the Messenger.) Be there more ? 
 
 Mess. Nay, Sire, I came in haste at the first news. 
 Though it is said that he would wed the Queen ? 
 
 Arthur. A thousand devils take him 1 — Nay, not that 
 Not that most foul completion ! 
 Ho ! Sir Hake, Sir Mark. Ho Knights without ! 
 
 Enter Knights. 
 
 Arthur. Mordred's usurped the kingdom. We must haste 
 to England now. The siege is raised. Yea I will blot 
 him out or make an end righting mine old glory. 
 
 Gwaine. {Borne out.) Now are my chances gone. 
 Gwaine is disgraced. This is a world of woe. I'll 
 fight no more. But one more bout, and my sword 
 might ha' done it. 
 
 [Curtain. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I. — (J^ise outer Curtain.) Enter two Soldiers- 
 
 1st Sol. Ho, without there ! --^^Ic 
 
 2nd Sol. What news ? 
 
 \st Sol. Arthur is back for England with all his forces, 
 and the King hath sent an army to withstand hfs land- 
 ing, and himself leaveth to night to follow them. 
 
 2nd Sol. He be a rare King this Hunchback. He hath 
 a marvellous power. His Knights be feared of him, 
 but 'tis said he's just. 
 
 1st Sol. He be not lawful got, 'tis said, but none can say 
 his rule be foul. 
 
 2nd Sol. 'Tis said that the new Queen be a witch an' hath 
 holpen hirti wi' her deviltries. 
 
 jst Sol. God save us if it be true I Yet it is safe to say ; 
 God save the King an' Queen. 'Tis better to cry a 
 witch Queen than to be jjplit 'i the gullet. 
 
i^ii.l' 
 
 SCI.] MORDRED. - 95 
 
 2nd Sol. Yea wi' plenty ale 'i the pewter and meat 'o the 
 
 ;/ spit, no matter who queens or kings it, so says I. I'm 
 
 % for Mordred an' tlie Witch. ■ ^ <- < •->- 
 
 1st So/. So be I till the next change comes. [Exit both. 
 
 (Rise inner Cut tain.) Enter Vivien as Queen ivith many 
 Ladies and Pages — takes her state. 
 
 ' ■' '' Enter a YJi\\g\\\.^ 7V ho kneels. -^'^ 
 
 Vivien. What news from France, Sir Bors ? : 
 
 -J V J''> 
 
 Knight. Arthur cometh back, my Lady. . u :'::>;; I 
 
 Vivien. Nay!- .'^''■•. ,^^,= '..^k-:/./.' :;^■.li•^ ^^s^^,". 
 
 Knight. Yea, my Lady, the army be embarked. J 
 Vivien. Oh short and bitter ! . n^-r t%0t 
 
 ■-/:-..r- . r. ,.> ■ Enter Mordred. ■^'':^'::■'■■''• *'^"'-l',''''V' 
 
 Mordred. Well, Madam! v=v^4 ;y >h^^^^^^^^ 
 
 "Rm^n. {To the Ladies) Begone ! ^ '>'?' i [jEjic/V rt//. 
 
 (7^^ Mordred.) Hast thou heard the news ? 
 
 Mordred. 'Tis as I have long expected. He now cometh 
 
 [back. 
 
 Vivien, Art thou prepared? 
 
 Mordred. Yea, if 'tis death thou meanest. 
 And 'twere better so. Thou art a Queen already I 
 I had not thought thou wouldst so look the Queen. 
 
 Vivien, Mordred, would that thou mightst also see 
 I wear a heart, a woman's heart, beneath 
 This queenly mask. 
 
 Mordred. A heart ? 
 
 Vivien. I'hat beats and breaks for thee. 
 
 Mordred. I'm not myself, I am a hunchback king, 
 Who stole his father's rule by subtlety. 
 And keepeth it by power of being a devil. 
 I know not love. Woman, thou art mad ! 
 Art thou not satisfied with what thou art ? 
 
96 MORDRED. , [act V. 
 
 • '•''■•■■■- '.' 
 
 I made thee all that woman's heart might crave. , x , '. 
 
 Revenge, ambition, these all can I grant, .- 
 
 But love, a commodity not in Mordred's giving. 
 
 Use this thy power to surfeit while it lasts, 
 
 To morrow it will topple. I'm o'er-weary . ' '■ 
 
 Of all this sycophancy of creeping men, : ; . v,;;r,} 
 
 Who fear my power and sneer upon my back ; 
 
 A pageantry of lies where human worms, ^ 
 
 Who crawl to-day, tomorrow get a sting 4 / 
 
 And^use it on the hand that 'f- jnded them. 
 
 I cannot mould the face to popular form. 
 
 And hide the thought behind the outward act. 
 
 And make good ill, ill good by royal patent. 
 
 Nay, I can scorn, and I can hate, — yea strike, . * 
 
 When rules the mood, yea, I'm a very devil ; ,. ' * < 
 
 But cheat myself and others to what I am, 
 
 And be a popular dream, a fancied god, 
 
 The victim of a world's delusiveness, " *-- 
 
 What manner I am, I were not made for this. 
 
 Yea coming struggle I meet thee with a joy 
 
 'Twere scarce expected. Madam, I bid farewell. \' . 
 
 We worked this masque together, thou and I, ' 
 
 And if it like thee little, blame not Mordred. 
 
 I go to-night to meet my Sire in battle. 
 
 Such fight will be this kingdom hath not known 
 
 In all its sorrows. Britain's darkest hours 
 
 Are blacking on her, I feel I go to death. 
 
 I leave some knights to guard thee. If thou desirest 
 
 Thou canst withdraw unto some convent close, 
 
 Till this blows over. . 
 
 Vivien. Nay, Vivien flees not. She dies first ! Woman or 
 She will be found where dangers threaten thee [Queen 
 And menace thy kingliness. Oh Mordred, 
 Thou knowest not the woman that I am. 
 Take me with thee as thy heart's true slave, 
 Where thou diest, there would Vivien die, 
 Or where thou goest, there would she wander too. 
 
 Mordred. Nay, nay, 'tis vain, I am a man apart. 
 
SC. I. MORDRED. 97 
 
 / . 
 
 Thou knowest not the iron I am become. 
 Mordred needs no shield of kindly help 
 Other than what unkind nature gave him. 
 Woman, thou dost unqueen thyself, I tell thee. 
 Thou wastest thy words on Mordred. 
 
 Vivien. Oh brute. Oh cruel shape, not natural man, 
 Hast thou no feeling ? 
 
 Mordred. I go forth to-night. ^ 
 
 To wreck my father, stem his tide this way * ^ 
 
 Unto his rightful kingdom. Speak me love ! 
 Rather tell the lamb skipping the mead, 
 Go ask the wolf for suckle. ,r • .^ :\ -v >^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 Vivien. Nay Mordred, slay me now and thou wilt know 
 Vivien had blood full warm to flow for thee. 
 
 Mordred. Woman, I'm all iron and adamant ■ ' - ;^' ■ ■ , y 
 And yet I pity thee for thou hast hell. -^ ^ ^." V*^^ 
 
 I would not slay thee — rather fare thee well. '^^ ^ 
 
 {Exit Mordred. 
 
 Yivien. Oh God ! Mordred ! Mordred I Is this all ? 
 And I have moulded him unto this iron v j ;;/ 
 I beat against. It is my punishment ! 
 Oh God ! Oh God ! Nay, I will go with him, Ia iV; v r^^ 
 And die with him if need be. Now my wits 1 ; ; ;/ V ; 
 But how ? How :* How? v ^i iM,j ; 
 
 Enter a Page. •y,,,.>r:;vv^ ^■■•yc:;:,i;v-vs^i 
 
 Page. Madam, the King ? 
 
 Yivien. He hath just left— Stay, dost thou go with him ? 
 
 Page, Yea, Madam. 
 
 Vivien. Doth see this jewel ? 
 
 Page. Yea Madam, it be wondrous indeed. 
 
 Vivien. It will be thine — wilt thou stay, 
 .And let another go in thy stead. lusvi > 
 
 Page. The King trusteth me. c-j^ii^n v 
 
 Vivien. 'Tis the will of one who loveth the King far 
 
"^ . . MORDRED, ■^■^':ryr::'^:-:;^...::v:, [act V. 
 
 more ihan ever thoa couldst. 'Tis my will. Thou must 
 stay. Quick, this way. [Exit both. 
 
 Re-enter Mordred with his Knights. 
 
 Trumpets without. 
 
 Mordred. Make haste ! Make haste ! Where tarrieth this 
 Squire of mine ? We must ride to Dover ere it darkens. 
 
 , A Knight. He cometh now, Sire. 
 
 Enter Vivien, disguised as a Squire. 
 
 - ;r. Mordred. Dost thou keep thy king ? thou wert long in 
 coming. 
 
 Vivien. I came with all speed, Sire. 
 
 Mordred. Thou seemest over pink and white for this work 
 Canst thou fight ? 
 
 Vivien. Yea, Sire, I can use a dagger. 
 
 Mordred. Then follow — Ho, there without I Now for 
 Mordred's doom. [Curtain 
 
 rSCENE n. — The Kentish Coast. Landins: of Arthur's 
 troops opposed by Mordred. Battle going on in the 
 distance. Enter Gwaine borne ashore on a litter. 
 Battle comes tiear. 
 
 A Soldier. They come this way, here will we stand and 
 guard thee. {They put down the litter^ 
 
 ' Givaine. How goes the fight ? 
 
 A Squire. Desperate hard. The enemy be strong, 
 As if half England would shove the other 'i the sea. 
 
 Gwaine. Give me my sword, and help me up, I'll fight. 
 
 A Leech. Sir Knight, if you rise up it is your death. 
 
 Gwaine. Damn thee, to lie here helpless is to die, 
 With those fierce sounds of battle in mine ears. 
 Quick ! my sword ! mine old strength cometh back. 
 
sen. ,f,,y, ,...,.,/ MORDRED. :r. /-' ■■'^■.■'- -...^ ,.. . 99 
 
 (A Squire /lands him his sword^ he leaps to his feet. The 
 battle comes near and they are all borne out flighting. 
 Re enter Gwaine bor?ie by Soldiers and the Leech.) 
 
 Leech I told thee thou wouldst die. '■ ' 
 
 Gwaine. And so wilt thou some day, and like a milksop, 
 
 ['i thy bed. 
 'Twas a poor prophesy though a sure one. It is naught. 
 Turn me over. Yea, I wedged some skulls, and clipped 
 Danmed Mordred's wings o' some pen-feathers. ^ 
 
 Enter Arthur. 
 
 Arthur. So far the battle's ours, tnis edge at least 
 Of Britain's soil doth Arthur own to-night. ;^ f. 
 
 What be this ? 
 
 Gwaine. 'Tis Gwaine, King, brought to bay at last. 
 Arthur. Thou weit mad to fight. 
 
 « 
 
 Gtvaine. 'Twas madness not to fight with all that battle 
 Ringing its clarion thunders in mine ears. 
 All life be madness and death but the healing of it. 
 I have reft some brain-pans, i' my time, ha ! ha ! 
 Tell traitor Launcelot. — Yea turn me softly, 
 'Twas a deft hand did give me that last stroke. 
 
 Leech. AVhat be thy message knight, thy time groweth 
 short ? 
 
 Gwaine. Yea, take away, — tell Launcelot, Gwaine's 
 vengence waits him 'i the nether black. (Dies.) 
 
 [Curtain. 
 
 SCENE in.— Night on the battle field. The royal tent, 
 
 Arthur's Camp. 
 
 Arthur. Ho ! there without. {Enter a Page.) Send me 
 Sir Bedivere. \Exit Page. 
 
 Enter Sir Bedivere. 
 
J.-- 
 
 # ■ .„ l-'^ ...-.,..-.•,■.,:. ....,.-,,,.. .^. ,:-. .^,. _,..,. .^^ ,;:..■...-.. ■ 
 
 lOO ^ : :^ • ou MORDKED. > ACT V. 
 
 Arthur. Is all safe 'i the camp? ;, v ? • ^ ^ ' v>; 
 
 5/V. ^. Yea, Sire, the sentries are set and watch fires 
 ablaze. And all ready for battle i' the first dawn. 
 
 Arthur. What of the enemy? , . i v » ' 
 
 <Sir ^. They be the same. Sire, all seemeth quiet 'i the 
 
 camp. -;■' '-^ ' "' '■ <-: "■ ^• 
 
 Arthur. Remember all watchfulness, so there be no 
 
 surprise. Thou canst go Bedivere, I would fain sleep. 
 
 Sir B. Yea, I go, Sire, and God keep thee this night. 
 
 Arthur. Stay, Knight, Arthur of England is a lonely man, 
 Betrayed of those who should have loved him best. ^ .' ■ 
 To-night perchance he fronts the brink of death, ^ t " ;v| 
 In bloody battle for his rightful kingdom. ^ t^ ^ ' v; k 
 
 Take this ring. Knight, in memory of thy King, 
 (Gives him a ring.) Survive he not the morrow. 
 
 Sir B, God keep thee, Sire ! [Exit Sir Bedivere. 
 
 Arthur. Now what will morrow's dawn-rise bring to 
 Will it bring bloody victory or defeat ? [Arthur ? 
 
 How like an autumn wood is stript my glory. 
 Who short since was sole monarch of this realm. 
 Oh ! evil Spite, that ruleth this sad world ! 
 Come joy, come hope, there's nothing sure but death. 
 Yea, I will sleep and muffle out my sorrows 
 A little while. (Goes to the couch.) 
 Nay, Arthur will not pillow till he beds with death, 
 Or doth regain his kingdom. I will rest here. 
 (Seats hiniseif on a chair and wraps his cloak about him.) 
 
 Now for Oblivion's peace ! 
 
 O stricken King, thou art the loneliest to-night. 
 
 In any realm. (Leans forward falls asleep. A V^gQ steals in.) 
 
 Page. He sLeps. (Exit Page.) (Arthur starts and 
 ///«//tfrj " Launcelot ! Launcelot ! My friend! My 
 friend ! Guinevere I Ah ! Guinevere ! 
 
 Ghost of Merlin rises. 
 Ghost. Arthur of England ! 
 
SC, III.] MORDRED. 
 
 101 
 
 ■^ Arthur. {In his sleep.) Merlin! Ah I Merlin! 
 
 Ghost. I come to tell thy doom. To-morrow ! Arthur, 
 i to-morrow 1 - 
 
 Arthur. Away Spirit ! A fright me not. Away ! Away ! 
 (Ghost vanishes, Arthur starts up.) .>^ ^ 
 
 Ah, Merlin ! did I dream of Merlin ? 'Twas but the fancy. 
 Oh, great Mage, to-night thy portents wander back 
 Unto my mind, Oh couldst thou see thine Arthur. 
 To-morrow, said the voice within my dream. 
 To-morrow! Yea, to-morrow 1 
 
 {Sits down again and folds his cloak. Sleeps. Mutters 
 " Mordred ! my son Mordred ! 
 
 Ghost of GvfMHY. rises. v ' ■ v : • 
 Ghost. King ! v /..^iv i, 
 
 Arthur. Ah ! 'Tis thou ! Away 1 away ! 
 Ghost. King, fight not tomorrow. 
 Arthur. (In his sleep.) Nay, I will ! 
 Ghost. King, fight not to-morrow. 
 
 Ghost vanishes^ Arthur wakes. 
 
 Arthur. Yea, sleep is but the border land o' death. 
 'Tis twice ! 'Tis twice ! It is a certain portent. 
 Yea, Arthur fights, though Arthur dies, to-morrow. 
 Yea, now I'll sleep, for I am over-weary. 
 Weary of life, yea I am over-tired. 
 I would fain sleep though night should have no morning. 
 This night is sweet and restful. To-morrow comes doom. 
 This hour for soft oblivion. [Curtain. 
 
 SCENE IV.— Near the battlefield. Enter two Knighi^. 
 
 1st Knight. This day is Britain doomed and Arthur's 
 Rent and dismembered b) old grisled war. [Court . 
 
 2nd Knight. Meseems the kingdom's severed like two 
 That meet together in some mountain course [tides 
 
• V , 
 
 I02 ^ MORDRE/). ACT V. 
 
 To whelm Other. Arthur's star grows dark, ..^t. . 
 
 And Mordred's darker. 'Tis the Queen they say, 
 Hath cursed the realm with her godless loves. /'V^ 
 
 : ,^,, Enter two other Knights, fighti?tg on foot, ^^a^^ x 
 
 ist Knight. A Mordred ! Ho! A Mordred ! ,/* 
 
 i 2nd Knight. An Arthur ! An Arthur ! Have at you ! {They 
 dose and each stabs the other. Both die.) 
 
 1st Knis^ht. Thus is the kingdom rent like doomsday's 
 Such awful portents have been told abroad, [crack; 
 
 Since yesternight. Some say the world hath end. ,, ,. j^/ v 
 
 2nd Knight. And what be they ? »];; U '^ ^ ; 
 
 1st Knight. The crucifixes on the churches' walls 
 Have trickled blood, and many abbey bells v • ; ■ .' 
 Have tolled the midnight, rung by no man's hand. --^i^ #; 
 Yea, even the dead have risen from their graves. 
 
 2nd Knight. Ora pro nobis ! 
 
 1st Knight. Some even say that Merlin hath come back 
 And prophesied the kine;dom at an end, 
 And all last night men dreamed such fearsome dreams 
 Of blight and pestilence and spectres dire ; 
 I fear me much the end of days hath come. 
 
 2nd Knight. How goes the fight ? 
 
 ist Knight. Yea even fiercer, as two tircal waves, 
 That roar together on some night bore, 
 And meet in thunders. Never hath such war 
 Been known in Britain since the ancient days. 
 The bowman's arrows darken all the sun. 
 The battle-axes clamor on the shields. 
 As on some morn the loud woodcutter's din 
 By some bright hillside. Knight encounters knight 
 In serried thunders. All the kingdom's turned 
 To one mad tournament of blood and flame. 
 {The battle is heatd moving neater. Both rush out. Another 
 part of the field. Enter Arthur surrounded by knights. 
 
 Arthur. Now where is he, that monster, foul, deformed, 
 
SC. IV,] ^ MORDRED. ' '03 
 
 In shape and spirit, Nature calls my son? .■ «?] -r Vi;^ f >i?i; U 
 
 >.,fVr'-' r^f"*\^ 
 
 ' '" ^^er MoRDRED. 
 
 Mordred. Here ! H^.-^'Xy'k:'.L[;^Ai\'''i, 
 
 Arthur. Ah, Blot on all this sunlight, Creature dire, 
 
 
 Spawn of mine incest. There standest thou my sin, 
 
 Incarnate now before me, mine old doom, 
 
 Thou that wast stronger in thine influences 
 
 To work dread evil in this hideous world. 
 
 Than all the glory, all my good might win. '! i >" ** 
 
 , Mordred. Father! . ^. r.,.. ,.^..,, , 
 
 Arthur. Yea, well say Father ! Parent I this ill 
 That hath enrent my kingdom all in twain. 
 In that dread night of my licentious youth. 
 When I in darkness thy foul shape begot, 
 I worked a web of blackness round my fate, 
 And thine, distorted phantom of my sin. 
 Not all the tolling of sweet abbey-bells 
 And murmur of masses sung these thousand years. 
 Can sweep from this doomed kingdom. Father, yea, 
 .There is no truce betwixt us. Thou art Death 
 To all that I hold dearest on this earth. 
 Thou stood'st betwixt me and my gladder fate, 
 The one black spot on all my glory's sun. 
 In thee once more mine evil blackens in, 
 Reddens mine eyesight. Have at thee, foul Curse ! 
 
 Mordred. Father ! 
 
 Arthur. Have at you ! They fight. (Arthur wounds 
 Mordred. He falls. A Knight stabs Arthur from 
 behind.) 
 
 Arthur. Ho ! all the sunlight blackens ! Mordred ! Oh ! 
 My glory darkens ! Curtain not yon sun ! (Dies.) 
 
 Mordred. Yea, this is all and I were made for this, 
 To scatter death and desolation round 
 On this fair kingdom, ruin this sweet land. 
 And level all the pride of Arthur's glory. 
 As men might level some great castle walls, 
 
I04 ^^^^^:': .r MORDRED. - . [aCT IV 
 
 And sow with salt the fields of his desire, j V; r 
 
 And make him mock before the eyes of men. 
 
 Turn all his great joy into bitterness. 
 
 Yea, I his blood, and I were made for this. , r 
 
 Oh ancient, cruel Laws of human life, r.;,. ,v;^i 
 
 Oh deep, mysterious, unfathomable Source . ! i ; 
 
 Of man's poor being, we are ringed about 
 
 With such hard rinds of hellish circumstance, 
 
 That we can never walk or breathe or hope, ^, -^, 
 
 Or eye the sun, or ponder on the green ■ ; ■ 
 
 Of tented plain, or glorious blue of Heaven, " 
 
 Or know love's joy, or knotted thews of strength. 
 
 But imps of evil thoughts creep in between, / * . 
 
 Like lizards in the chinks of some fair wall, r i 
 
 And mar life's splendor and its fairness all. 
 
 'Tis some damned birth-doom blended in the blood 
 
 That prophecies our end m our poor acts. 
 
 Oh 1 we are but blind children of the dark 
 
 Wending a way we neither make nor ken. 
 
 Yea, Arthur, I had loved thee sweet and well, , 
 
 And made mine arm a bulwark to thy realm, s v-" 
 
 Had I been but as fair as Launcelot. -> ,^^ 
 
 What evil germ, false quickening of the blood, 
 
 Did breed me foul, distorted as I am, 
 
 That I should mar this earth and thy great realm 
 
 With my wry, knotted sorrows ? Launcelot's love 
 
 Was manly, kmd, and generous as became 
 
 A soul encased in such propitious frame. 
 
 The kingly trees well turn them to the sun. 
 
 And glory in their splendor with the morn. 
 
 'Tis natural that noble souls should dwell 
 
 'Twixt noble features, but the maimed soul 
 
 Should ever be found in the distorted shape. 
 
 But I had lov^d as never man hath loved 
 
 Did nature only plant me sweet at first. 
 
 (2'o his Knights.) And now I die, and blessed be my death, 
 
 More blessed far that I hajd never breathed. 
 
 Murder and Treason were my midwives dire, 
 
 Rapine and Carnage, priests that shrive me now. 
 
SC^ IV.] MORDRED. l^ •: lOS 
 
 Enter Vivien, disguised as a Squire. ; f* 
 I%/^«. Mordred ! thou diest ! 'y';*^- >t-';;:-,'t-;-''^^^'f'' 
 
 Mordred. Who art thou ? ^: >yfiia^;rk . 
 
 Vivien. I am Vivien. ' > !' iJ ' 
 
 Mordred. Hence, hence Viper, incarnate Fiend. 
 Not natural, woman, but Ambition framed,'!:;. M 
 And all lust's envy. Thou wert unto me v. t ' %-^^:-a. i?i ;>. 
 A blacker blackness. Did an angel come, • 
 
 And whisper sweeter counsel in mine ears. ,^. v 
 
 And trumpet hopes that all were not in vain. 
 But thou wouldst wool mine ears with malice dire. 
 And play upon the black chords of my heart. 
 Hence, Devil ! Mar not these my closing hours. ■ 
 
 Vivien. O, Woe ! Woe ! (Steals out.) 
 
 Mordred {To the Knights.) Now bear me slowly to great 
 And let me place my hands upon his breast, [Arthur's side 
 For he was mine own father ! Alas ! Alas ! 
 So hideous is this nature we endure. 
 
 {The Soldiers place him by Arthur.) 
 
 How calm he sleeps, Allencthon, as those should 
 Who die in glorious battle. Dost thou know 
 Oh ! mighty father that thine ill-got son, 
 Ill-got of nature and mysterious night. 
 To mar thy splendor and enwreck this worlds 
 Now crawls to thy dead body near his death, 
 As would some wounded dog of faithful days, 
 To lick his master's hand ? Blame not, O King, 
 If thou somewhere may know what I here feel, 
 Thy poor, misshapen Mordred. Blame him not 
 The turbulent, treacherous currents of his blood 
 Which were a part of thine, nor let one thought 
 Of l*is past evil mar thy mighty rest ; 
 I wouM have loved thee, but remember that. 
 Now, past is all this splendour, new woilds come. 
 
I06 MORDRED. [aC1\V. 
 
 But nevermore will Britain know such grace, 
 
 Such lofty glory and such splendid days. 
 
 Back of the clang of battle, back of all 
 
 The mists of life, the clamour and the fall 
 
 Of ruined Icingdoms built on human days, 
 
 Arthur 1 Merlin ! Mighty dead, I come ! 
 
 {Springs to his feet.) 
 
 Ho ! Horse ! To horse ! My sword ! A trumpet calls ! 
 
 A Mordred ! {Dies.) 
 
 \Ciirtain. 
 
 THE END. 
 
HILDEBRAND. 
 
 ■'*,h. 
 
 AN HISTORICAL TRAGEDY. 
 
 FOUNDED ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OF 
 
 THE GREAT POPE GREGORY VH, 
 
 His Struggle for Supremacy with Henry IV of Germany, 
 AND His Enforcement of the Celibacy of the Clergy. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONAL. 
 
 HiLDEBTiA^Dy Pope Gregory VII. J ^' 
 
 Henry /F, of Germany. 
 
 Peter, I)aii%ian% a monk (friend to Hildebrand). 
 Gerbhert, a married priest of Milan. • «, 
 
 Ariald, a decretal jyreacher {lover of Margaret). \ 
 
 ■ w • '■ '. :"'V '^ ..., ■ .- 
 
 Arnulph, a decretal preacher. vv 
 
 Brunelli, a cardinal. ; - " ^^v 
 
 Bishop of Bam\)urg. 
 
 Wolf, Lord of Bamhurg, a German Noble. 
 
 Two Burghers. 
 
 ■rjr^ ' > <wo monks. 
 
 An Abbot. 
 
 A Warder. 
 
 Queen of Germany. 
 
 Margaret, mife of Gerhhert and daughter of Hildebrand. 
 
 Catherine, mother of Margaret and former wife of Hilde- 
 brand. 
 
 Cardinals, Lords, Bishops, Soldiers, Monks, Burghers and 
 
 Pages. 
 
, (.f,Vr-'^v'.A.r'''k^_.|M;^ ' ':-"' 
 
 
 HILDEBRAND. 
 
 ■• «. ; 
 
 ■ ,".-f.; ACT I. ;":;.:•• ■^"'ak; :;rV''*^. '- ^ 
 
 SCENE I. — {I^ise outer Curtain.) An Inn-yard in Milan. 
 Two Burghers discovered seated at a tabky drinking. 
 
 jst B. Well, well, these be the strange days incieed,indeed ! 
 
 2nd B. (^Rather drunk. \ How now, neighbor Burnard, 
 
 how now ? ^ ^^ 
 
 1st B. Heardst thou not the news, good Neighbor ? But 
 with thy nose always i' the wine-pot, thou canst not 
 know anything aside its rim. 
 
 . 2nd B. Wine-pot, wine-pot, thou sayst ha ! ha ! nosei' the 
 wine-pot thou sayest, 'tis belter than sticking it into 
 every business save thine own, hey! neighbor Burnard ! 
 But what be this news that would keep the nose out o' 
 the wine-pot ? 
 
 1st B. There be a new Pope at Rome, the Monk, Hilde- 
 brand. How Hke you that ? 
 
 2nd B. God, keep us all ! Now thou dos* say it I It 
 seemeth they be making new Popes every Michaelmas. 
 This were no reason for to keep the nose outside the 
 wine-pot. , Here's to his health, God save him ! 
 
 'Twere a merry grape was squeezed for this, good 
 Neighbor. Here's long life to thee an' the Holy Pope, 
 and especially to the royal Henry. Soon may he come 
 to Italy. 
 
 1st B, It be said, Henry cannot sleep o* nights i' his bed, 
 for the making ot this same Pope, Hilde brand, or 
 Hellbrand, as some folks call him. But hast thou 
 heard the greater news ? 
 
no HILDEBRAND. [aCT I. 
 
 2nd B. Nay, what now ? Nothing be new now. Nothing 
 be new, along o' fighting and preaching and lechering 
 and damning in the Church and Slate. Nothing be 
 new save drinking, and that be ever new. Ha ! ha ! 
 What else be new ? 
 
 jst B. 'Tis concerning this same scarce-baked Pope, this 
 Hellbrand. 'Tis said he hath sworn by the mass and 
 all the saints never to rest until he hath unwived all 
 the priests i' Europe. How like you that, good 
 neighbor Burnard ? 
 
 2nd B. Ho ! ho ! 'Tis a good joke. Unwive the priests! 
 'Tis a good joke. 'Twere well for me and thee did he 
 swear a vow to unwive all the burghers i' Milan. 
 'T would gie one I know more peace i' his bed o' nights. 
 'Tis the priests ever have all the good fortune i' Europe. 
 Ah me, ah me I 'Tis ever so. 
 
 1st B. Yea, but there's more news yet, good Neighbor, 
 this same Hellbrand, which be a good name for him if 
 he be Pope, hath sent out two wondrous preachers, 
 endowed with uncommon powers of tongue and orders, 
 to spread this same doctrine in all Italy and throughout 
 Europe ; an' it be said they took fearsome oaths, on 
 pain of eternal damnation, not to rest till they had 
 done so ; an' further, 'tis said, they be here to-night to 
 preach i' the market. 
 
 2nd B. I' Milan ? 
 
 . 1st B. {Rising.) Yea i' Milan, here, i' the square. 
 
 2nd B. Well now ! It do be passing strange, well now ! 
 It be a damn law, and he be a damn liar, who saith 
 not. A most unnatural law, for our good pastor. 
 Were it my case now, it were fitting, {ist goes out) who 
 
 , taketh a lecture every midnight near upon cock-crow, 
 such as no Pope's Bull could outwit in language an' 
 rhetoric. Say good Neighbor, what thinkest thou? 
 Might I not be made a priest ? What be qualifications? 
 (Ha ! he hath gone ! ) I could drink with an abbot, 
 yea, an archbishop, yea, I'll see this same Hellbrand 
 
SCI.] ■ HILDEBRAND. Ill 
 
 about the matter: it shall be done, be done, ha ! ha ! it 
 shall be done. {Reels 07tt,) 
 
 (Rise inner Curtain, the market place.) Enter several jolly 
 
 Monks. 
 
 1st. (Sings) Ours be a jolly life, 
 No care nor ill have we, - 
 
 We neither toil nor starve nor beg, 
 But live right merrily. 
 
 All. No wife to scold, no child to squall. 
 An' put us on the rack ; 
 We drink good wine, we kiss the maids, 
 An' the Pope is at our back. 
 
 2nd. So here's unto the jolly monk, (all grasp hands), 
 And here's to him, alack, [all clench fisfs) 
 Who'd turn him from his board and bunk, 
 For the Pope is at his back. 
 
 All. The Pope is at our back, good Freres, 
 The Pope is at our back ; 
 VV^e fleece the churls, we scorn the King, 
 For the Pope is at our back. (All pass on.) 
 
 Eftter a great ctowd of Burghers, men and women, 
 who fill the market. Enter Arnulph and Ariald, the 
 decretal preachers. Arnulph ascends a -pulpit to harangue 
 the crowd.) 
 
 Arnulph. Know ye Citizens and Burghers of Milan, that 
 whereas in the past, by reason of evils and curses, 
 through the power of the Devil,Holy Church hath fallen 
 into abomination, to the shame of men and sorrow^ of 
 Heaven, it hath here now and at this time, behooved 
 her to cast off certain of those abominations, to wit, 
 especially that most heinous sin, whereby the priests of 
 the altar, do, without grace and carnally given, co-habit 
 in concubinage with those weaker vessels, even as do 
 the common and unsanctified of humanity \ wherefore 
 know ye Citizens and Burghers of this city of Milan, 
 that the Holy Father doth now and at this time, by me 
 and through me, instruct you each and collectively, of 
 
1 1 2 HILDEBRAND. [aCT I. 
 
 the dreadful enormity of this most damnable sin, 
 whereby the holy priesthood is made of none eftect, 
 and Holy Church doth languish in weakness and vas- 
 salage to the princes and lords of this carnal world, — 
 know ye, — 
 
 A Burgher. Most reverend Doctor, cut ye short the 
 " know ye's " an' the " wherefores " and th' " verbia- 
 tions " an' the " latinities " an' come down from your 
 high flown rostrum an' tell us the church's will. We 
 be plain men. 
 
 Other Burghers. Well done, Big Gellert. Thou art in 
 the right of it. Bravo ! Gellert. 
 
 Ariaid. Insolent Lump ! would'st thou interrupt a doctor 
 of Holy Church ? 
 
 Gellert. Holy Church confound him and thee, too, thou 
 sour-faced varlet ! Who's a talking of Holy Church ? He 
 is but a stray rooster from some mad convent, an' thou 
 his mate ranting on a mad doctrine. Holy Church 
 teacheth no such damned doctrine. Be we fools? 
 
 Burghers. Well hit. Big Gellert, thou canst give him the 
 latinities of it. Hit him back, old Pigeon ! 
 
 Arnulph. Beware, thou impious Mountain of mortality, 
 an' ye foolish burghers lest ye insult in me a power that 
 is behind me. 
 
 A Clerk. Come, come, get thee down, we want no such 
 strange doctrines. We have had clergy, good men 
 with wives and chicks i' Milan, these centuries back, 
 an' we be no Sodom. 
 
 Arnulph. I know not your customs,butinthe name of Holy 
 Church, I Arnulph, hereby command ye on pain of 
 deepest Hell hereafter, that ye abstain from all n>asses 
 made or performed by any priest who continues in this 
 unholy state, for I tell you be he priest, archdeacon, 
 bishop or archbishop, he is accursed, and doubly 
 accursed. 
 
 Gellert. Thine be a big curse indeed, an' by 'r I^dy, thou 
 mouthest it well. 
 
SC. I.] HILDEBRAND. II3 
 
 Clerk. Dost thou tell us our good pastor be in mortal sin 
 because he liveth with a good wife as do other men ? 
 
 Arnulph. Have I not said it ? 
 
 Geliert. Then art thou a brazen liar, an' comest thou 
 down, I will give the non of it on thy brazen chops, 
 itioxx leathern-lunged Varlet of Satan. 
 
 Arnulph. Dog of Hell, the arm that toucheth me Heaven 
 will wither. ! 
 
 {A great clamor arises.) Enter Gerbhert, the Parish Priest. 
 
 Gerbhert. What meaneth this disturbance i' my parish ? 
 I thought I ruled a peaceful, God-fearing people, an' 
 rot a brawling rabble. 
 
 Geliert. Pray, good Father, 'tis yon loud-mouthed Dog of 
 Satan, hath insulted you an' all Milan by his mad 
 heresy. 
 
 Gerbhert. Insulteth me, good Geliert ? {to Arnulph) Who 
 are you who without my license come disturbing my 
 flock with thme unseemly harangues ? Come down from 
 yon pulpit ! {To the crotvd.) Good People, in God's 
 name, go home. 
 
 Arnulph. Nay, I will not come down till I have delivered 
 this my messag'e to this foolish mob, an' to thee, thou 
 carnal-minded Priest. In the name of the Holy 
 Church I exhort ye, — 
 
 Gel. He saith, Pastor Gerbhert, that thou canst no more 
 make masses, being a wedded man. 
 
 Gerb. (Jb Arnulph.) Be this true? 
 
 Am. It is true, by the Mother of God. An' thou wilt feel 
 it too ere thou art an hour older. 
 
 Gerb. Nay, Man, thou art mad, this cannot be ! 
 
 Ar. *Tis even so as we be Holy Church's men. 
 
 Gerb. Ha ! art thou not Ariald, once of Rome ? 
 
 Ar. Yea, I am that same Ariald. 
 
114 HILDEBRAND. [aCT I 
 
 Gerb. Then tell me Ariald, by our one-time friendship, 
 that this man be mad, an' his message but a foolish 
 doctrine. 
 
 Ar, Nay, Gerbhert, but 'tis thou art foolish, an' this law 
 but too true, thou must obey. 
 
 Gcfb. Then will I fight this mad heresy, this inhuman 
 code. That we must give up our wives an' babes, our 
 pure homes, an' all that is holiest on earth ! Nay, it 
 cannot be ! 'Tis devilish ! 
 
 Ar. But thou must obey or be driven out. 
 
 Gerb. Ariald, thou knowest my Margaret, thou knowest 
 her sweet nature, her holy conversation. She hath no 
 devil, that her loving should make me unworthy. 
 
 Gel. 'Tis damnable, good Father. But give me the word 
 an' we will trounce them out o' the market. 
 
 Enter Margaret, the Priest's Wife. 
 
 Marg. Gerbhert ! Gerbhert ! Good citizens have you 
 seen the pastor ? Mother Bernard, poor soul, needeth 
 the last rites, she be dying. 
 
 GeL Aye, thou wert ever an angei of mercy from heaven 
 to the sick an' poor. 
 
 Marg. What aileth thee, Gerbhert ? What may be the 
 matter ? 
 
 Gerb. Come hither Margaret, this man telleth me 
 So strange a thing, I know not if he be mad 
 Who sayeth it, or I who hear his words. 
 He sayeth I am no more a priest of God 
 While I'm thy husband. 
 
 Marg. Not priest of God while thou art husband ? Nay! 
 But he is mad indeed, for thou art both, 
 A good kind pastor, as these people know. 
 And as I know, a good and loving husband. 
 
 Gerb. He saith 'tis some new law within the church. 
 He saith in sooth, sweet Margaret, I must either 
 Put thee away or leave the priesthood. 
 
SCI,] HILDEBRAND. 115 
 
 Matg. An' what say yoii, my Gerbhert ? 
 
 Gerb. That I will fight it to the bitter end, 
 I will be both or there's no God in Heaven. 
 Ariald, thou knowest my good Margaret, 
 The woman of my choice, my youth's one love, 
 I will not give her up. The Holy Father 
 Shall know of this strange doctrine. He snail judge 
 'Twixt thee and me. 
 
 Am. Know then thou carnal Priest that even now 
 He hath decided ; 'tis by his own will 
 That we be here, here is his written word. 
 
 {Holds up the Pope's Bull) . 
 
 Yea, further, you shall choose you even now. 
 Thou shalt not shrive yon dying woman, till 
 Thou hast renounced this woman. 
 
 Gerb, My sweet Margaret, put your trust in me. 
 {To Arnulph.) Thou cruel preacher, show me yon dread 
 Whose horns do even now rend me. Tell me now [bull, 
 'Tis but a lie and not great Hildebrand's. 
 I knew him once, he seemed a kindly man, 
 And never one to part a wife and husband. 
 
 Gel. Let me see yon paper, let me see thou liest. 
 Nay, 'tis the Pope's name. This b^, a damned world ! 
 Good Father Gerbhert, tell us if this paper 
 Be what he saith ? {Hands paper /^Gerbhert, who reads.) 
 (Margaret goes near Gerbhert.) 
 
 Getb. Margaret, come not so near, O Margaret come not 
 so near, — I love thee Margaret — but — O my God ! 
 
 Marg. Gerbhert, Gerbhert, thou wilt not desert me. 
 Remember our sweet-babe. 
 
 Ar. Margaret, touch not that man, he is God's own. 
 Leav, him. 
 
 Am. Even so. Wouldst thou curse him with thy touch? 
 
 Marg. Evil Man, good Friends, forgive my misery. 
 
Il6 HILDEBRAND, [aCT I, 
 
 But even now, as I did pass our home, 
 
 I left his little one, and mine, asleep. 
 
 His sweet face pillowea on his rosy arm, 
 
 I bent and kissed him, he did look so like. 
 
 His father, and now good friends forgive me, it is but 
 
 A passing madness, but it seemed these men 
 
 Had built a wall of hideous black between 
 
 Me and my husband. 
 
 Gerb. Margaret, back ! as thou lovest me ! 
 Nay, touch me not, I am a banished man, 
 Good Friends, brave Gellert, pardon my poor feelings. 
 For I am now afflicted by dread heaven 
 For some gone, unknown sin ot my past youth. 
 Perchance I murdered one in hideous sleep, 
 Strangled some infant on its mother's breast, 
 Violated some pure sanctuary ; 
 That this dread blackness lieth on me now. 
 
 Margaret, thou art sprmgtime vanished past. 
 And this be autumn all dead leaves and rain, 
 With all of mem'ry's summer 'twixt us twain. 
 
 To think and dream forever. Forgive, my friends, 
 This week unseemliness in me your pastor. 
 
 1 ever did love mercy, dealt but tardily 
 
 With those who seemed to suffer more than sin, 
 Looked up to heaven and led my people, trusting ; 
 And now I am brought beneath the crudest hand 
 That ever pointed two roads to a man. 
 Arnulph, Ariald, forgive my former heat, 
 Vou do but your bare duty. Friends they're right, 
 And I your whilom pastor in the wrong. 
 For I mistook the face of earth's poor love 
 And dreamed a stair of human happiness 
 Did lead to Heaven. See me now rebuked. 
 'Tis the Pope's will. Arnulph, read thou this. 
 I charge thee, as the pastor of this parish. 
 That you leave out no word however hard. 
 Nor soften down one sentence of this curse, 
 Or its conditions. 
 
SC. I. HILDEBRAND. II 7 
 
 Am. Of a surety I'll not. 
 
 Ar. He shall not ! And harken, you, good people, do you 
 listen ! 
 
 Matg, Gerbhert, come home, I will not hear that curse 
 That parts us twain. My breaking heart it seems 
 Doth hear our baby cry. 
 
 Am. Silence Woman ! 
 
 Marg. You would silence the angels. Work you this deed, 
 I tell you Man, you shut all Heaven out 
 And let in Hell, you desolate God's glad homes 
 ^ By your brute ministry that knows not love. 
 
 Am. The love of heaven knoweth not carnal love. 
 
 Marg. Forgive me Sir ! Stern Sir ! would woman's tears* 
 But move you, would woman's pleaded prayers 
 But change you to the softest kindly thought, 
 I would beg of you, read not that curse. a 
 
 Am. Silence, Woman ! 
 
 Gerb. Margaret, by your love for me, be silent. 
 
 Am. {Reads.) In the name of God, amen : Gregory the 
 Seventh by the will of Heaven, Pope, Vicar of Christ, 
 successor of Holy Peter, sendeth greeting to all 
 Christian peoples, and commandeth, that any priest 
 living with a woman in the so-called marriage state, 
 shall be accursed : — that any person who receiveth at 
 his hands any or more offices of Holy Church shall 
 also be accursed. — That furthermore, all offices so 
 exercised by him shall not only be rendered null and 
 void of all good effect, but shall rather be regarded by 
 Holy Church as acts accursed. That this same law be 
 proclaimed in all parishes throughout Christendom. 
 Know ye that this be my will. 
 
 Signed, 
 
 Gregory. 
 Marg. Gerbhert, O God, Gerbhert, where art thou? 
 
Il8 ' HILt>EBRAND. ACT I. 
 
 Gerb. Margaret, touch me not, we must obey 
 When Heaven speaks. 
 
 Marg. Not when it utters thunders such as this. 
 
 Arn. Choose, Gerbhert, twixt this woman and thine office. 
 Take her with thee to Hell, cr both win Heaven. 
 
 Gerb. I have chosen, let me go and die. 
 
 Marg. O Gerbhert, come and kiss our little babe. 
 Say one good-bye, to home, before you go, 
 I'll not detain you, I say it on my knees, 
 I'll not detain you. 
 
 Gerb. Margaret, would you curse us with your love ? 
 I can hear the Holy Father's voice 
 Though he's in Rome, saying, nay, nay, to thee. 
 Farewell, ^Margaret, we will meet in heaven. 
 
 [Goes out with Arnulph and Ariald.) 
 
 Matg. Nay, I am mad, 'twas this o'er nursing did it. 
 Gerbhert, tell me, tell me, I am mad. 
 Good friends, O pardon your poor Margaret. 
 P who will lead me home ! 
 
 [^Curtain, 
 
 SCENE \l.— Place, Home of Pastor GerhJiert. Enter 
 Catherine, Mother to Margaret. 
 
 Cath. What can keep her, what can keep her ? Oh, here 
 she comes. {Enter Margaret, weeping.) 
 
 Marg. Mother, Mother, take me, take me home. 
 Home ? Where be home ? Are not these walls familiar ? 
 Did they not mean the place where we had dwelt, 
 And hoped and loved ? And what are they made now, 
 Hut empty phantasies of a broken past ? 
 O Mother, Mother, bring me to my child. 
 The world is dead, the world is aged and dead. 
 
 Cath. My God, my God, Margaret, are- you mad? - 
 
SC. II.] HILDEBRAND. H9 
 
 Marg. My husband ! Oh, my husband ! 
 
 Cath. Gerbhert ! What of Gerbhert ? Is he dead ? 
 
 Marg. Aye, dead to me. 
 
 Cath. You speak in riddles, daughter. 
 
 Marg. Life is a hideous riddle unto some, 
 That it were better they had never solved. 
 
 Cath. Margaret, I am your mother. Tell me quick, 
 Gerbhert, where is Gerbhert ? Will he come ? 
 
 Marg. He will never come. O Mother ! O Mother ! . 
 
 Cath. What are your words ? Where hath ' he gone, my 
 Child? 
 
 Marg. How can I tell you ? Tis the church's will 
 That he must leave me, I must be no wife, 
 Or he no husband. The Pope hath sworn it. 
 
 Caih. The Pope ! The Pope, you say ? 
 
 Marg. Aye, the Pope. 
 
 Cath. Nay, not the Pope. You are dreaming, dreaming, 
 This working with the sick, hath turned your brain [Child, 
 
 Marg. Nay mother, 'twere a blessing, were I mad. 
 'Tis only but too true, I heard it now 
 Out in the market. Gerbhert heard it too. 
 And he hath gone. O God ! yes he hath gone, 
 And on his face the doom of Death was writ. 
 
 Cath. Mother of heaven ! and it hath come to this. 
 Is there no God, that men in heaven's name 
 Break up earth's homes, and make a waste like this ? 
 Daughter, Margaret, where hath Gerbhert gone ? 
 
 Marg. Let me die. But let me die in peace. 
 
 Cath. Nay, nay, this shall not be, this hideous law 
 Must drift aside. Daughter, harken me. 
 
 Marg. There is no hope. The Pope hath willed it so. 
 
 Cath, Nay, he will hear me, I will make him hear. 
 I have a secret you* have never known, 
 Nor any in Italy. 
 
120 ' HILDEHRAND. ACT I. 
 
 Marg. The Cardinals at Rome will never hear thee. 
 Gregory will never, never hear thee. 
 'Tis vain. 
 
 Cath. Fear not for me, I will at once to Rome 
 And crush this evil matter, get his will 
 To bring back Gerbhert, if he will not harken, — 
 
 Marg. We can but die 1 ^ , 
 
 Cath. I will go and make all matters ready. 
 So early dawn surprise me on my journey. 
 
 Marg. Nay, mother, leave me not. I feel as if 
 All lilp "ere desolated. Leave me not. 
 
 (Her child cries within.) 
 
 Yea, my sweet fatherless babe, I'll come to thee, 
 
 Not all Rome's Popes can say nay, nay, to that. (Goes within) 
 
 Cath. (Going out.) 
 O, thou that cursed me in mine early days. 
 And cast this shadow all across my life ; 
 Wilt thou now add this sorrow to mine age ? 
 And darken my last years ? Is there no God ? 
 O, Night, who art the same, whose stars look dowm 
 On peace and madness, human joy and pain. 
 If there be help within thy mighty depths 
 For earth's poor creatures, help me, help me, now. (Goes out.) 
 
 Enter Ariald. 
 
 Ar. She is alone. My power, this is thine hour. 
 Margaret ! Margaret ! 
 
 Enter Margarat eagerly. 
 
 Marg. O, Gerbhert ! Have you come ? 
 
 Ar. Margaret! 
 
 Marg. Sir I ~0 cruel disappointment ! I had thought 
 It were my husband. * 
 
 ilr. Tis but a friend. 
 
 Marg. Then Friend, bring back my husband, bring him 
 On my knees I beg it. * [back 
 
SC. II.] HILDEBRAND. 121 
 
 Ar. I may not, Margaret, Heaven only hath power 
 To stay your parting, think no more on Gerbhert. 
 
 Marg. Then wherefore here ? 
 
 Ar. In pity for your sorrow I have come. 
 A wedded woman, yet no longer wed, 
 So young and fair, so helpless to protect 
 Yourself and child against this wicked world : 
 Yea, I would help you. 
 
 Marg. My heart, had it but room for else than sorrow 
 Would thank your kindness. You can help me best 
 By bringing back the lather of my child, 
 The friend who onetime loved you. 
 
 Ar. It cannot be, in all things else than that 
 My power can help you. You sin grievous sin 
 When you still mourn him. 
 
 Marg. Nay, nay, if sin, then life is all one sin, 
 One hideous hell, and God but a great devil. 
 
 Ar. Woman, you blaspheme. 
 
 Marg. Nay, rather thou blasphemest, teaching me 
 That human love, be contraband to heaven. 
 Not all your Popes and Cardinals standing by. 
 Can make me, looking on my babys face, 
 Forget his father. 
 
 Ar. Margaret, by this love you bear your child, 
 
 Fprget this Gerbhert. He was never yours. 
 By right divme, he ever was Holy Church's. 
 You only damn his soul, do you succeed. 
 
 Marg. Never ! never ! This be hideous, hideous I 
 My womanhood calls out against this lie. 
 
 Ar. If you are wise you will forget this man. 
 I tell you he is dead to you and earth. 
 A few short years for prayer and cloister tears, 
 Are all that's left him. Margaret you are fair. 
 And young and budding for the joys of earth. 
 Forget this Gerbhert. There are other men 
 Would seek thy love. 
 
123 • HILDEBRAND. ACT I. 
 
 Marg. What mean these words? Insult not this my sorrow. 
 
 Ar. Margaret, if thou wouldst only but trust me, 
 My love is thine. 
 
 Marg. Thou devil ! 
 
 Ar. Margaret, know my power. Thou art alone, 
 With me to make thy life a hell or heaven. 
 
 Marg. Nay, I have God. O heaven, show thy face 
 Through this dread blackness ! 
 
 Ar. Not God nor any can give thee succor now. 
 Thy husband dead to thee lorever more. 
 Choose ! Black Starvation knocketh at thy door ! , 
 Pity thy child if thou wilt not thyself. 
 I have long loved thee, Margaret, trust to me, 
 Bethink thee of thy child. 
 
 Marg. Out ! out ! Blasphemer ! If the Church be vile. 
 If justice be swept from earth and pity dead. 
 Though devils walk this world, though God be gone. 
 Know, there be left one righteous woman's scorn 
 For such as thee. 
 
 Ar. When thou dost see bleak desolation come. 
 Gaunt, burning hunger fill thy baby's eyes, 
 Thou'lt come to me. 
 
 Marg. If thou be Satan, thou black Prince of Fiends, 
 Thou wearest this man's form, thou firest his heart. 
 ( To Ariald) Go ! Devil ! ere I forget my womanhood. Go ! 
 
 Ar. {Going out.) Remember ! 
 
 Marg. If there be nothing in this world for me, 
 I have a friend no priest nor Pope can take. 
 Whose name be Death. 
 
 [Curtain. 
 
SC. I.] HILDEBRAND. 1 23 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. — A room in the Papal Palace at Rome. Enter 
 HiT.DEHRAND as Popc and Pkter Damiani, a fanatic. 
 
 Hild. Know, Peter, I am a man of single purpose, 
 To make all Europe bow to Peter's knee, 
 To build the power of God o'er human thrones, 
 And humble kings to Christ by me His Legate. 
 
 Pet. Now, thou art Hildebrand. 
 
 Hild. To make the Crown subservient to the Cross 
 In all things ; kill out simony ; 
 And make the church sole granter of all fiefs 
 In bishojiric or abbey ; hold all kings 
 In spiritual feudality to my will, 
 To wear or doff their crowns at word of Heaven, 
 As represent in me, God's vicarate. 
 
 Pet. There spake Peter, indeed. 
 
 Hild. For this same reason I carry this purpose now. 
 To separate humanity from the church. 
 And re-create a world within this world, 
 A kingdom in these kingdoms, alienate 
 From all the loves and ties that weaken men. 
 By rendering all the priesthood celibate, 
 Espoused only unto Holy Church. 
 
 Pet. Wilt carry this purpose to the bitter end ? 
 
 Hild. Yea, will I, unwive I half the world. 
 
 Pet. Now will God's kingdom rise and Hell's go down, 
 With man's presumption. Now we'll get our hands 
 Clutched at the throats of ail these bloody princes. 
 
 Hild. Yea, Peter. 
 
 Pet. Ha, ha, thou, too, hast a hate for kings. 
 
 Hild. Whoever saw a monk who loved a king; ? 
 The king was ever our natural enemy. 
 
124 ' HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 But see in me no heaven-brooding monk, 
 
 But many men in one, a pope, a king, 
 
 A fierce ambition, like a burning flame, 
 
 To put these times and peoples 'neath my feet. 
 
 And conquer empires to my finger's will, 
 
 So that I nod, and all kings nod with me. 
 
 This be the ruling passion of my life. 
 
 It saved me from the common daily sins. 
 
 Dost thou know, Damiani, I once loved 
 
 A woman, even as other men have loved. 
 
 Did marry her, overcome by human passion ; 
 
 But driven by the demons of my fate, 
 i Fled fiom her unto a monastry, ^ • • - 
 
 Where nights of prayer aijid fasting weaned my heart 
 j To larger hopes and cravings. Never since ; 
 
 Have I set eyes upon my youthful love 
 
 Nor heard of her, though sometimes in my dreams 
 
 She comes back like a nightmare to my heart. 
 
 'Tis strange that heaven makes our being so. 
 
 But she hath gone, a phantasma upon 
 
 The fading walls of my heart's memory. 
 
 I will not dwell upon her. 
 
 Fef. Gregory, thou wouldst do well to keep 
 A guard upon thy passions. , 
 
 Hild. Dost know me Peter ? I am Hildebrand. 
 The ages after they will know of me, 
 As one who ruled himself and all the world 
 With iron hand, who changed the course of nature. 
 And rode unmoved o'er rivers of human tears 
 For God's high glory. 
 
 Pet. Unwive the priests ! Unwive the priests ! Tis my 
 
 [life's passion 
 Hild. Peter, Peter, thou art over-hard on woman, 
 She is not all the devil thou hast thought her. 
 
 Pet. Yea, devil ! devil ! Mention not the name! 
 They are all devils, even thy holy Princess. 
 
 Hild. Peter ! 
 
■1 < 
 
 Jx> -f.i 
 
 SC. I.] HILDEBRAND. I25 
 
 /V/. Yea, Gregory, I will say it to thy face. 
 'Tis not the Pope she leans on, 'tis the man. 
 I tell thee Hildebrand, Beatrice loveth thee, 
 And thou art Pope. O Woman, Woman, Woman ! 
 Thou Satan's agent for to damn this world ! 
 
 Ht'/d. Ah, Peter, thou much mistakest Beatrice ! 
 If ever a daughter of the Mother of God 
 Did move with saintly footsteps o'er this earth, ^ ' 
 
 'Twas Beatrice. All Holy homes of God 4 ^ ;, i> 
 
 Within her happy Duchy rise to bless her. 
 The grateful poor who dwell in her own cities : 
 Would do her reverence. Peter, thou art mad ^ > 
 On this one subject. Now to another matter. 
 Here is the map of Europe, all mine own. 
 The red Wolf of the Normans he may growl, :; 
 The Tigers of the south may snarl and whine, > ' 3 
 But all are mme, are mine. I hold all sheep, . 
 
 The many flocks who go to make my fold. 
 
 JPef. Yea, thou wilt shear them, Hildebrand. 
 But what of Henry ? 
 
 Ift'/d. That name ! that name ! I would that this same 
 Were shut in hell ! Of Europe's many kings, [Henry. 
 
 This Henry is the one I fear the most. 
 These dogs of Italy, hounds I hold in leash 
 To tear each other when they'd throttle me. 
 The Norman William hath his own affairs. 
 He is a heathen hound whom I would use 
 To keep my Christian sheep in quiet fold, 
 France hath her ills whereof I know full well. 
 But Henry ! Henry is the name I hate ! 
 His is the other name that stands for Rome. 
 My hope is this, if I can only put 
 This arrogant emperor underneath my foot. 
 As this same parchment, (hear it crunch and crack 1) 
 So I'd crush him and make me emperor, * 
 Then mine would be the single will of Europe. 
 This is my aim. 
 
126 ' HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 Pet. Why dost thou pander then ? He laughs at thee 
 And all thy legates, moves his licensed way 
 As though no Mother Church held holy sway 
 In his dominions, selleth bishoprics 
 And abbeys, and making mock allegiance 
 Laughs in his sleeve at thee, the Pope of Rome. 
 
 Hild. Let him laugh, his scorn will eat him yet. 
 The day will come w^en he will cease to laugh, 
 For I am Hildebrand, I bide my ^ime. 
 I hold a physic that will purge his pride 
 Of all its riches. 
 
 Pet. Give him that physic quickly, Hildebrand. 
 Thou art not fierce enough. Use, use thy power, 
 Ere it deserts thee. What be this power ? 
 
 Hild. The Papal curse. 
 
 Pet. Yea, use it Grei^ory, use it even now. 
 
 Hild' Wait, Peter, thou wilt see a p'cture yet, 
 Wilt hear a music that will like thine ears. 
 Thou wilt see Henry, Monarch of half Europe, 
 The man who scoffs at monks, and uses men 
 As players, would poor chessmen for his use 
 To play with, thou wilt see this man 
 Shorn of his greatness, blasted like some trunk 
 Out in a wasteland, suing with suppliant knee. 
 And begging his royalty from the carpenter's son. 
 
 Enter a Page, who kneels. 
 
 Page. Your Holiness, Ambassadors wait without with 
 letters from Normandy, {presents letters.) 
 
 Hild. {Reads.) To his Holiness, the Lord Pope of 
 Rome, William of Normandy sendeth greeting ; Holy 
 Father thine obedient son and ally, William, Prince of 
 the Normans, who is about invading England for the 
 purpose of putting the outlawed Saxon under the 
 power of Holy Church, would humbly beseech thy 
 immediate public blessing on his undertaking. This 
 land be sworn by Harold in fief to William, on the 
 bones of holy saints. 
 
 [Signed] William. 
 
SC I.] HILDEBRAND. 1 27 
 
 Hild, Ha, Insolent ! 
 
 Pet. Writeth he thus to the successor of Peter ? 
 
 Hild. Insolent ! Ally, ally to me, Gregory. 
 Immediate, poor suppliant truly this. 
 Ah, Europe, Europe, thoa art hard to grind. 
 This rude wolf would make a bargain, aye, 
 'Tis little he doth care for Holy Church. 
 He'll filch my England'^ abbeys, waste her towns. 
 To fill his Norman lusts. Yet he is strong, 
 ril use this wolf to bow the Saxon neck. 
 
 Pet. Send him thy curse. 
 
 Hild. Nay, Peter, he would laugh and throat it down 
 In Rhenish flagon. What cares he for Popes 
 But for his uses ? I will send my curse 
 Some other day, to-day will go my blessing. ■ ;, 
 
 My curses I have need of for this Henry. I VAi^ : : 
 
 (7<? Page.) Show them in. y^^r 
 
 E7iter Ambassadors. 
 
 Hild. You come from Normandy. 
 
 1st Am. Yea, my lord, we would pray your holiness' bles 
 
 [sing. 
 
 Hild. Then you have it. 
 My heart is ever with my Norman children. 
 Would that they loved war less and peace the more. 
 O Angel of Peace, when wilt thou compass Europe ? 
 Tell William he is my well-beloved son, 
 High in my favor, take my blessing to him, 
 God's mercy goes to England when he goes, 
 And Holy Church's curse on all his foes. * 
 
 Pet. Amen. 
 
 Ambs. My lord, our thanks.' We are blest indeed. 
 
 Hild. (To Page.) Bring hither our most costly banner. 
 (Page brifif^s banner,) (Hildebrand takes banner^ 
 May all who fight beneath thee ever conquer, 
 And heaven strike the foe that meeteth thee. 
 
128 , HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 {Gives the banner.) Take this banner to our well-beloved 
 
 William of Normandy, and say thus to him, — 
 That sending him this we make him, William of England. 
 
 Amb. We will, Your Holiness. 
 
 Hild. My blessing with you. By him who maketh kings, 
 Go you propitious. 
 
 Exit Ambassadors. 
 
 Hild. They came in proud, they went out meek enough. 
 Give me but time and I will tame all wolves 
 From Alps to Appenines. 
 
 Enter Page. 
 
 Page. More ambassadors await without, your Holiness. 
 
 Hild. From whence ? 
 
 Page. Germany, your Holiness. 
 
 Hild. Ha, ha, now, we meet another matter. 
 
 Pet. Now thou growest iron. 
 
 Hild. Yea, then I gave with smiles what I owned not 
 Now here with sternness I would hold mine own. 
 There is no Pope while there's an Emperor, 
 'Tis my chief creed. Give me the letter. 
 i^Reads) Ha, what be this ? Refuses to retire 
 The German abbot he made without my leave, 
 Tells me that being king he holds in fief 
 
 All power of benefice. The hound ! the hound ! 
 I'll make him stoop. I'll crush his pride out yet. 
 Yea, more, he says he's coming soon to Rome 
 To take his crown of Empery at my hands. 
 Then craves my blessiiiig, sent him with all speed, 
 " Your filial son." A filial son, indeed, 
 A son of Hell, was fittfer sonship. Peter, 
 This king makes me a devil. 
 
 Pet. Send him thy curse, thy ban, 'twere fitting answer 
 To such a message. 
 
 Hild. Nay, I will try him yet, not that last move, 
 Till lesser fails. Call in the Cardinals. 
 
SC.*-I.] HILDEBRAND. 1 39 
 
 Cardinals file in^ Ambassadors are brought in. 
 
 Hild. You come from His Majesty, Henry of Germany." 
 
 Amb. We do, your Holiness. 
 
 Hild. It grieves me much that our unfilial son 
 Should keep from Holy Church those ancient powers 
 Given to her of old and handed down, , 
 Gifts to Peter. 
 
 Amb. What be these powers, your Holiness ? 
 
 Hild. Powers of right, powers of gift, powers of office, 
 Powers to lose and bind, lift and lower, bless and ban. 
 
 Amb. Hath she not yet those powers, my Lord ? 
 
 Hild. Nay, nay, and never shall until she may ;lu 
 
 Enforce those powers, by other stronger powers. v 
 
 Abbeys, Bishoprics, Priesthoods, whose are these j*^ 4S ' 
 Peter's or Caesar's ? Gregory's or Henry's ? ;;<i- ^ fe 
 
 Ajnb. The king saith not, my lord. ^ ^ '^^t 
 
 mid. Tell Henry, our undutiful son, so soon 
 As he doth show his feaity to the Church, 
 By rendering up to her those pristine gifts 
 Of benifice, and giveth to her hands, 
 What unto her belongs, so soon will she 
 Grant him her blessing. Tell him, mighty Peter, 
 Christ's Vicar and ambassador of God 
 Speaketh by me, the seventh Gregory, 
 Calling unto him to do my will. 
 Or dread my curse. 
 
 Amb. Yea, my Lord. 
 
 Hild. Tell him that He who makes and unmakes, 
 Lifts and lowers, thrones and dethrones. 
 Speaks by me. 
 
 [Exif Ambassadors, Cardinals and Peter. 
 
 Page. The Countess of Canossa awaits without, my Lord. 
 
 Ilild. Show her within. 
 
130 , HUDERBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 Enter Beatrice. 
 
 llild. My gentle Countess, saintly Beatrice, 
 Welcome to my first royalty of Heaven. 
 Thou comest to me as cometh the evening star 
 After the heat and turmoil of the day, 
 Shedding the beauty of thy womanliness 
 On my rude cares. How fares Canossa ? 
 
 Beat. O, Hildebrand, I come to thee no star, 
 But rather as a brook to some great river, 
 I flee me to the succor of thy presence. 
 
 Hild. Doth he so use thee, our one flower of women ? 
 The brute, the beast, hath he maltreated thee ? 
 
 Beat. Nay, not that yet, but leagues him, I much fear. 
 With that mad King of Germany. 
 
 Hild. Henry, agen ! 
 Wait a little yet, we'll heal that ulcer. 
 
 Beat. You know poor Bishop Gudrun, he is dead, 
 
 Hild. Nay, when died he ? He was a goodly priest. 
 But scarce a zealous pastor. So he's gone ? 
 
 Beat. When I would come to thee to fill his place, 
 Canossa, with a loud and brutal laugh. 
 Says, nay, the Emperor must fill the chair 
 And at his prayer the licentious Prince hath sent 
 One of his courtiers, some rude, worldly man, 
 To fill the benefice. He laughs at thee. 
 And puts thy new reforms to open scorn. 
 
 Hild. Wait, sweet Beatrice, water not thy face 
 And weaken not my heart with thy sad tears. 
 Canossa knoweth not he hath an enemy 
 More deadly than he fears, who is a devil. 
 Did I but let him Icose and he would sweep 
 Earth and Italy clear of such Canossas. 
 
 Beatrice, this is a world of woes, 
 And I being many men have many woes, 
 
 1 climb so many hills my feet grow weary ; 
 
SC. I.] HILDEBRAND. I3I 
 
 Now, I'm a king and fain would rule this earth, 
 Now am a saint and fain would purge its ills, 
 Now am a priest and fain would throttle its wills, 
 Again the man with all a man's desire 
 To feel and hate and love as other men. 
 O Beatrice, I would I were deep heaven 
 To wear so pure a star upon my breast. 
 When I see thee, this world with all its cares. 
 Its hard ambitions, hates and hellish batdes. 
 Doth vanish past, like day at evening's hour, 
 When only sweet thoughts stay. Must go so soon ? 
 
 Beat. Yea, My Lord, but I will come again. 
 
 Enter an Abbot afid several Monks dragging an 
 old man with a long beard ^ who is accused of 
 witchcraft. The Abbot and Monks fall 
 on their faces. The old ma?t stat/ds. 
 
 mid. Stand! (They all stand up ttembling.) Who be 
 this ? 
 
 Ah. Most Holy Pope, Vicar of Christ, Lord of the 
 Church, Keeper of the Keys ; — 
 
 Hild. Nay. Make thy speech brief ! 
 
 Ab. Most Holy, — that is to say, we are accursed. 
 
 Hild. Even so. Ye look it. Proceed ! 
 
 Monks. Yea ! yea ! um ! um ! 
 
 Ab. Yea, Most Holy, we be much accursed by reason of 
 yon cursed — ( The old man takes out some tablets and 
 seatins^ himself on the floor proceeds to calculate ) 
 
 < Ab. Yon, yon — 
 
 Jifild. Say on, Sirrah ! Accursed ? hast lost thy tongue ? 
 (Abbot afid Monks all groan.) Speak on or means 
 shall be found to make thee I 
 
 Ab. Nay, nay. Most Holy ! He be cursing us now wi' 
 his deviltries. I may net mention his name because 
 of the blight. Wilt thou not bless me so that I may 
 proceed unharmed ? 
 
132 HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 Hild, {Makes the sign of the cross.) Yea, tis done. Pro- 
 ceed ! 
 
 Ab. {Growing bolder.) Yon cursed dog ot a sorcerer 
 hath bewitched us all. 
 
 Monks. Yea, yea, Most Holy. 
 
 Hild. He hath then but little to do. 
 
 Ab. Nay, Most Holy, he hath done much. 
 
 Hild. (Ti^Wiz.) Stand up! {the wizard remains sitting, 
 gazes at Hild., then at Monks, then returns to his cal- 
 culations. ) 
 
 Hild. Wilt thou stand up? {to Monks) Make him ! 
 
 Ab. and Monks. Nay, nay, he be making devils wheels 
 at us now, even now we be dead men. 
 
 {The old man finishes his calculation, then rises slowly and 
 approaches Hild.) Hast thou sent for me ? 
 
 Hild. Who art thou ? 
 
 Wiz. I am the centre. Macro, aero, Magister, ha! ha! ha ! 
 
 Hild. {To Ab.) What hath he done? 
 
 Ab. Oh, Oh, Most Holy, everything. 
 
 Hild. Name his offence. 
 
 Ab. He hath lamed Brother Benedict, rheumed Brother 
 Isaac, physiced Brother Petrice, hath slain Brothers 
 Wildert, Gebert an' Andrice, hath tied us all up by the 
 heels to the devil, an' hath bewitched the whole con- 
 vent. 
 
 . Hild. {To Wiz.) Hast done this ? 
 
 ^/>. Hast done what ? mensa, mensae, mensae, ha ! ha ! 
 ha ! {sits down and proceeds to make angles and circles^ 
 
 Ab. He be ever like this. Most Holy, as thou seest. 
 
 Hild. Will he not understand ? I would know his man- 
 ner of thought. 
 
 Ab. It is by reason of his magic and his great age, Most 
 Holy. 
 
SC. I.] HILDEBRAND. 1 33 
 
 Hild. How old be he ? 
 
 Ab. Some say one thousand, some five hundred,, but the 
 most three hundred and fifty years, Most Holy. 
 
 Hild. Nay ! How do you converse with him ? 
 
 Ab. We hang him by the thumbs till he answer that be 
 one way. 
 
 Wiz. {Shakes his fist at Ab.) Macro, aero, sacro, ha, ha, 
 ha. 
 
 Hild. This man be mad. 
 
 Wiz. Yea, all mad, mad, prayers, fasts, prayers, saints, 
 tinkle, tinkle, all mad, yea, they are all mad, aero, 
 macro, I am the centre, hear me- 
 
 Hild. Didst thou bewitch these ? {pointing at Abbot 
 
 \and Monks. 
 Wiz. Ha ! ha I All swine, all swine. 
 
 Hild. Dost thou hear me ? 
 
 Wiz. Ha, ha, three fat, three lean, one ascragged, anti- 
 monium a portion, nutgalls two portions, soak till mid- 
 night and go to couch with much fasting. Wouldst 
 thou more ? 
 
 Ab. Thou seest, Most Holy, he hath a devil. This same 
 did slay three of our brothers with his devil's anti- 
 monium or some such potion. 
 
 Wiz. They did desire to be fat. I did but potion them. 
 'Twere not my fault that they died of over-feeding. 
 
 Hild. Antimonium ? Where didst thou get thy use for 
 such a potion ? 
 
 Wtz. By watching of the swine at their feedmg. Some 
 of this did by chance get mixed with their provender, 
 and those that did eat of it grew quickly corpulent, 
 and I, — thought me — 
 
 Hild. 'Twould suit the monks ? 
 
 Wiz. Yea, but they overfed — 
 
 Hild. And died ? 
 
134 . HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 Wiz. Yea. 
 
 Htld. But these others — they accuse thee of their dis- 
 orders. . 
 
 l^tz. (To Monks.) Feed less, drink less, toil more, 
 sleep less. Go not with the women, an your curse will 
 leave you, ha, ha. 
 
 Ab. Nay, he hath a devil. We be church's men. 
 
 mid. Ye look it, what else doth he ? 
 
 Ab. He maketh magic. He hath a devil's wheel and he 
 hath blasphetned saying he knoweth how many times 
 the spoke of a wheel goeth to make the rim, thus med- 
 dling with matters abhorred. More, he saith the world 
 be a ball,an floateth on nothing, the which we know to be 
 a foul lie, seeing the Fathers have taught it be flat and 
 standing on the foundations with Hell beneath. 
 
 Hi/d. (ToV^iz.) Be this true? 
 
 Wiz. Yea, I am Magister, know all, cure all. 
 
 Hild. Canst thou cure disease ? 
 
 Wiz. What \Couldst thou have ? Hast thou a flux, a 
 frenzy, an evil eye, a gnawing of the tooth, a rheum, a 
 discord, a gravel, a dysentry, a dropsy, a nightmare, an 
 I can cure thee ? 'i'he heart of a hen, the eye of a 
 dragon, the tooth of a snake, the nose of a beetle 
 caught twixt dusk and sunrise, all be a preventative 
 agenst mala, medicanta. Yea, for all frenzies, camel's 
 brain an gall, rennet of seal, spittle of crocodile, an 
 blood of turtle, taken with much prayer be certain 
 remedies. 
 
 Hild. Indeed, of a verity, man thou art much accursed 
 with knowledge. 
 
 Wiz. Ha, ha. Wouldst try me ? 
 
 Hild. Nay, I be well, and thou sayest this earth be a 
 sphere ? 
 
 Wiz. Yea, tis truth. See here. 
 
SC. I.] HILDEHRAND. I35 
 
 Hild. And it floateth on nothing ? 
 
 Wiz. Yea, yea, wouldst thou not learn ? Wouldst thou 
 not listen ? 
 
 Hild. Ha. 
 
 Ab. Thou seest he hath a devil. He honoureth not 
 even thee, Most Holy. 
 
 Wiz. {To Hild.) Wilt thou not listen? Art thou also 
 as these fools ? An age of fools ! An age of fools ! 
 Macro, macro, I am the centre. [Falls to calculating 
 anew.) 
 
 Hild. Peace, peace, Sirrah, I would hear thee agen on 
 this strange matter. Thou wilt stay here. {To the 
 Ab. and Monks.) And ye back to your mon- 
 astry, and do as he saith, feed less, drink less, toil 
 more, sleep less, and go not with the women, and I 
 will remove your curse. Now begone ! 
 
 Ab. and Monks. {Bowing out.) O holy father, we be 
 much accursed ! '— ' 
 
 Wiz. {Shakes his fist at them.) Aero, macro. {They 
 flee i?i great terror.) 
 
 Enter Peter. 
 
 Pet. More woes, more woes, more woes, another woman! 
 
 {Enter Page.) A strange woman would see your Holiness. 
 
 {Enter Catherine wrapt in a cloak. She advances and 
 
 throws the cloak off. 
 
 Hild. Catherine ! 
 
 Cath. Hildebrand I 
 
 Hild. 'Tis thou ! 
 
 Cath. Yea, my Lord. Thy wife ! {Kneeling at his feet.) 
 O, holy Father, by all the love that once 
 United our two hearts, I plead with thee, 
 Have mercy on the daughter of thy love. 
 
 Hild. My daughter ! nay, Woman, not so, not so ! 
 Cath. Yea, I have sought thee out these many years, 
 
136 ^ , HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 Did track thee to thy monastry then here. 
 O save thy daughter, mighty Hildebrand. 
 
 Hild. {Turns and covers himself with his cloak.) 
 
 Woman, Woman, I know thee not. Away ! 
 
 1 know not wife save only Holy Church. 
 
 Pet. Away ! away ! cursed Woman, away ! 
 Presume not on Christ's Vicar, the great Pope, 
 The father of his people and the world. 
 
 Cath. O me ! accursed me ! I come not here 
 To curse thee, nor to bless, nor yet presume 
 To dare polute thy state by name of husband. 
 'Tis only but a common, human word 
 Belonging to the poor ones of this world : — 
 But to beseech the Holy Pope of Rome 
 To cover with corner of his mercy's mantle / v 
 
 The daughter of his loins. v>r 
 
 Hild. O, Peter, Peter, take this woman away. , V 
 
 Pet. Begone Woman. Thou art sacreligious. 
 
 Calk. Nay, spurn me not, she is my only daughter, 
 I pray thee help her, tis a little thing, 
 For thee who hath so much of worldly power. 
 To lift thy hand and by a single word 
 Restore her happiness. 
 
 Hild. O Woman, what would'st thou ask ? 
 
 Cath. She is our daughter, awful Hildebrand, 
 Married short time unto that goodly priest 
 Gerbhert, of St. Amercia, at Milan. 
 
 Hild. O, God ! O, God ! 
 
 Cath. He is a holy clerk, well bred in orders, 
 Of good repute among his loving people. 
 Who look up to him as their Father in God, 
 Dwelling among them as the beckoning hand 
 Leading to heaven. 
 
 Hild. O, God ! O, merciful God ! 
 
SC. I.]. HILDEBRAND. I37 
 
 Cath. They have a little babe, a sweet, wee mite 
 Just come from Heaven. 
 
 Pet. Hence, Scorpion, know ye not this is the Holy 
 
 [Father ? 
 
 Cath. Remove this curse, those terrible monks have 
 Upon his priesthood. ^ _ ., [placed. 
 
 Hild. O Woman, I cannot, I cannot. 
 
 Cath. By all our former love I They cannot part ! 
 He holds her as the apple of his eye. 
 She sees in him the t^an that God hath given. ; ' I, 
 
 Remove this awful curse. '*, vl 
 
 Hild. Woman, thou speakest to a columned stone, ' . , 
 
 I am a marble. If I have a heart, ., > f 
 
 Thou'lt hear it beating, rock within this rock, " .' ^ , • 
 
 rhou art a sea that beatest my sides in vain. /'; ' 
 
 Cath. Do I hear thee aright? Thou art adamant ' 
 
 Unto this piteous pleading of my heart, • ?; ' !. 
 
 Thou sendest thine only daughter, our sweet child, ;^ '7'i- 
 Out into defenceless misery, breakest her heart. 
 Unnatural, unnatural, unnatural ! 
 
 It seems but yesternight they said good-bye, v^ ■. ; 
 
 And now she sits and rocks her child and saith 
 Over and over agen its father's name. 
 
 Pet. Go, Woman, he is dead to thee and thine. 
 
 Hast thou no pity ? Hast thou not one sigh 
 For this thy work ? 
 
 (HiLDEBRAND stauds sikntly with his back to her^f his cloak 
 wrapt about his face,) 
 
 Cath. Hast thou no pity ? By all our past, one word. 
 One parting word. 
 
 Pet. Thou speakest to a stone. Go ! 
 
 Cath. (Goes out wringing her hands.) 
 O, Agony, O Misery, Blackness, Hell, 
 There's no hope now. 
 
138 ^^''V.'-^.V'rJ ■-.i-'J.--- HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 SCENE II. — T/ie German Court, a Room in the Castle. 
 ^ -:. ^f^fg^ fj^g Queen and an Attendant. V " 
 
 Att. This way, Your Majesty. . V ^ ■■■■■ - • ^' ^ 
 
 Queen. You speak me, majesty. I am no Queen, ,-vS ,'. 
 The lowest woman in this mighty reahn, --.-::{!: :!;.•' '.^: 
 
 Reigning in some humble herdsman's heart, 
 Might top my queenship. O Henry, Henry, - - r: 
 
 What is there in my face, my form, my spirit. 
 That you should scorn me ? Hatli my essence changed, 
 Since by the holy altar facing Heaven ;} 
 
 We plighted wedding troth ; to less and less, ^ •:y,-:^,,.^: -k; 
 That you should hate me? , ; • 
 
 {Ejtter Bishop of Ba^nbiirg.) My Lord Bishop ! {kneels.) 
 
 Bam. {Lifting her ^ Nay, humble not thy lonely majesty, 
 Thy stately womanliness, most noble Maigaretj 
 By such poor acts. ■. -^ i . > ; ::: ', 
 
 Queen. O, Bamburg, be my angel, my good guide, ■ C 
 
 Leading me by roads to Henry's favour. , 'I 
 
 Bring back his heart to its one-time allegiance, ■ : -• 
 
 And make earth's springtime laugh for me once more, "j 
 
 Bam. Nought in all my bishopric hath grieved me 
 Like this strange act of Henry's. I have spoke him : • 
 
 Happily in all save only this, v ; v ^ / 
 
 Patience, my Lady, patience, look to Heaven. " *'* 
 
 Perchance some day he'll know thy noble heart. 
 
 Queen. O, Bamburg, as the queen of this great realm, 
 More sacred, as the mother of his child, 
 I beg you get me audience. Did I plead, . :." 
 
 His heart might soften. , .. .w, . . 
 
 Bam. Madam, thy wishes are to me commands, 
 I fear me much the issue in his mood, 
 But be my head the penalty, I will bring 
 You to him. \Exit both. 
 
 [ Curtain. 
 
SC III.] HILDEBRAND. ^ I39 
 
 SCENE III. —A /I Audience Room in the Castle. Enter 
 Attendant. Enter Henry /;/ haste^ with Gilbert 
 
 a Lord. ;. -v i 
 
 Hen. Now by my crown, I'll harry those villians out. ' 
 {To the Pas;e.) Quick, wine ! ito Gilbert) You say this news 
 This Saxon Rodulph, would pluck Henry down, [be true. 
 And wear his Empery. Ha, this likes me well ! 
 
 Gil. 'Tis said, Your Majesty, the Saxon towns ".. , 
 Have all revolted. , ~ . 
 
 Hen. And Rudolph leads them ! '■-'■-^''■.^^■'^- ']■■'■- - av 
 
 Enter YiXSiY^ij'RG. , . > '" " • 
 
 Well, Hamburg, have you heard the latest news? ; /i -y 
 The North's revolted. Rodulph heads the Saxons . . , / 
 To conquer Germany and take my crown, , . ,^ , 
 
 And on it all, this bold, insulting letter, :^:;:-\^^'''/\''""''fi'.\' 
 Reads me a lesson from His Holiness, ^' ''^^ ' 
 
 Yon arrogant priest, the scheming Pope of Rome. ' \' ^X 
 
 Bam. Henry, as your father's oldest friend, ''■.,' 
 
 As your m4st faithful subject I would plead, 
 Be nut o'er hasty in this sudden business. ^ '; * ' ' 
 
 Hen. Hamburg, I am sick of being a child, ';' ' ^ 
 
 You drive me mad by your pacific measures. ;^^ 
 
 While you are dallying, they will ride me down ' ' -i v 
 With s(]uadrons and with curses. Nay, no more ! " ' ;, 
 I'll ride me north and show mine enemies * 'J V 
 I'll bring yon Rodulph's head upon a pike-pole. ' ' v' ?' ' 
 
 Bam. What of this Roman message ? / V' a«> 
 
 Hen. Call in the messengers. {Entef a Cardinal and a 
 {To Antbs.) Go you to Rome ? [Roman bishop.) 
 
 Card. Yea, Your Majesty. 
 
 Hen. Go, tell your master, if he be the Pope 
 That I a'lr Emperor, who can lift him down. • 
 Tell him, in spiritual matters, Henry bows 
 To his opinion, in matters temporal, never ! 
 This is my answer, safe speed you Romewards. 
 
 [Exit Ambassadors. 
 
I40 HILDEBRAND. [aCT II. 
 
 Bam Your Majesty, before you go will see 
 But one more suppliant. 
 
 lien. Nay, Hamburg, nay not now, I'm hurried. 
 
 Batii. By my love, I beseech you ! 
 
 He7i. Is it so urgent ? Well, be hasty Bamburg. 
 My troops await me, and my sword-arm aches 
 To hack yon Rodulph. 
 {Enter Queen veiled.) Who be this ? 
 
 Bam. One who deserves your patience and your love. 
 If you love aught on earth, proud Henry. 
 Go you not forth to battle with your foes 
 Till you have made your spirit's peace with her. 
 Your realm's Queen, the mother of your child. 
 
 Hen. Bamburg, Bamburg, you trifle with my kindness. 
 This goes too far, know you that I am King ! 
 One word and I will hale you to a dungeon 
 For this insult. 
 
 Queen. Henry, my Lord, one word before ygu go. • :,:* 
 What have I done to gather all this hate ? ''" 
 
 Bam. Your Majesty may sever my poor body, 
 Mend you your love. Kill me, Henry, but 
 Murder not by scorn, the noblest love 
 That soul hath nourished. By these wintry hairs, 
 Though thou dost slay me, I will tell thee true 
 By this one act thou dost unking thyself. 
 
 Hen. No more, by heaven, no more, I know her not. 
 When will my subjects treat me less the child ? 
 I am no ward now, and I ever hated 
 This foolish, enforced marriage. Let her Majesty 
 Get to some retirement. She demeans 
 Herself by these forced meetings. {^Exit. 
 
 Queen. O Bamburg, I have lowered my queenliness 
 And cheapened my womanhood. I will no more. 
 Take me away. 
 
 [Cur/ain. 
 

 SC. IV.l HILDEBRAND. ^ , ^ I4I 
 
 SCENE IV. — A monastery near Mi/an. Night. Enter two 
 monks, Brun, a fat little monk, and Wast, a tall, lean 
 one, with an extremely ugly face. 
 
 Brun. How he doth take on, this new Friar Gerbhert. 
 I had not thought a man would lose his appetite for any 
 woman. 
 
 , Wast. Ah, Brun, you gluttonous men know not of love. 
 Such dangerous passions are beyond thy ken, lacking 
 the attractive, the magnetic, you descend to lower plea- 
 sures. Now look on me a victim to woman's fancy. 
 Within those walls I (ind a haven from woman's im- 
 portunities. 
 
 Brun. Verily, Brother, tl ou must have slain hearts. 
 
 Wast. It was my daily sorrow, so many beauties sought 
 me. I could not walk the streets, but I were pestered. 
 It did sorrow me much, I could not pity all the pas- 
 sions I awoke, so fled me here, sacrificing my pros- 
 pects, my youth, my person, rather than light fires 1 
 could not quench. {Eyeing himself in a metal hand- 
 mirror.) Alas, alas, Brun, my beauty falleth off sadly 
 of late. ;, ^ 
 
 Brun. Yea, thou hast a haggard cast to thy looks. It 
 wonders me much where all thy provender goeth, it 
 doth thee so little service. 
 
 Wast. Ah, Brun, Brun, so many broken hearts, so many 
 tender reminiscences. *But thou canst not touch my 
 feelings. Yea, Brun, didst thou but know the former 
 dignity, the port, the carriage of my person ; the flash, 
 the majesty of my eye ; the symmetry, the moulding of 
 my form ; thou wouldst but marvel at this ruin I am. 
 
 Brun. I doubt it not old Sucker, but let not thy former 
 beauty fret thy present comliness out o' countenance. 
 
 Wast. Nay Brother, I will so endeavor, but I am ever on 
 the tremble lest some one of those former victims, in 
 cruel desperation maddened, may find me here and 
 
142 y. HILDEBR^ND. ' , TaCT II. 
 
 seize my person. Brun, wilt thou protect me in such 
 s/' extremity, wilt thou, Brother ? 
 
 Brun. Yea, that I will, thou Wreck of former perfection. 
 V If any misguided person of that unfortunate sex be so 
 
 seized by distraction as to make formidable attack upon 
 thy classic person, she doth so on her peril, I promise 
 thee, old much-afflicted, my hand upon it. Be the 
 bottle finished? {A knocking is heard without.^ 
 
 Wast. What be that sound ? 'Tis she, 'tis she, at last ! 
 '■ ; V O me, O me, what will I do ? {Gets behind Brun.) 
 M? V, Brun! Brother! wilt thou protect me ? 
 
 Brun. Confusion take thee. Wast, now be a man. 
 
 y Wast. Yea, yea, I be a man, that be my sorrow, ah, oh, 
 
 , what sh — all I do ? {Tries to hide himself in his cowl.) 
 
 ;^> I' Enter other monks in great confusion, ' "; , 
 
 ,-i.' 
 
 All. What be that noise? what be th — at no — ise? 
 
 One M. {Peers through the wicket and starts back in hor- 
 ror.) 'Tis a — oh blessed Peter, 'lis a woman ! 
 
 All. What shall we do ? O blessed Peter ! what shall we 
 
 Wast. I am undone, undone, my fatal beauty assails me 
 even here. - ' r v" 
 
 Brun. Wast, quit thy folly, go close to the gate and ques- 
 tion her wants. 
 
 '■■'' '^ ' '■■- 
 Wast. Not me, not me, not for all heaven's riches ? 
 
 All Afs. Nay, nay, let her not in. {knocking continues .) 
 
 Let us pray, Brothers, let us pray. {All huddle 
 together. ) 
 
 Brun. Then if ye will not, then I must ere the Abbot 
 comes. 
 
 Monks fleeing. Nay, nay, let her not in, a woman, a wo- 
 man, a woman ! [Enter Abbot. 
 
^':'V' 
 
 sc. IV.] ;^^ hildebrandJ^ .' ' ' V 143 
 
 Abb. Stop, Fools ! (All stop.) Be it the Devil at your 
 heels, ye flee so quickly? ^ ^ . 
 
 All M^s. A woman^ a woman ! {Exit mofiks.) ■ ;- 
 
 Abb. (7I?Brun.) Open the gate. (Brun opens gate. — . 
 Enter Margaret, worn by illness and starvation.) - 
 
 Abb. Woman, what want you here ? ^ - ^^^^^^^-^^^^^^^ . • 
 
 Marg. I want my husband. {At the back of the stage^ in 
 a dimly-lit cell., behind a grating, Gerbhert is seen 
 kneeling, he rises, at sound of Margaret's voice, a 
 Monk holds a crucifix before him and he sinks back.) 
 
 Abb. Whom do you call by so profane a title within 
 these holy walls ? i^ v 
 
 . Marg. My husband, Gerbhert, vicar at Milan.' O let me 
 
 see him, our little one is dying. Where doth he linger 
 
 T aliened from his home? (Gerbhert comes forward 
 
 again, the Monk lifts the crucifix and he goes back 
 
 :V: wringing his hands.) >^.- - , ;• ,r •> , 
 
 Abb. This is his home, he knows no wife nor children, 
 You must go hertce. -r- - • :; 
 
 Mar^. If I called out unto these barren walls ^ '' / - 
 And had they but a heart to hear my prayer, >:V 
 
 Beneath their stony hardness they would open J' 
 
 To let me see him. : ■ 
 
 Abb. You must go forth, you blaspheme these pure pre- 
 Woman, go. * [cincts. 
 
 Marg, Nay, drive me not forth, O holy Abbot, 
 By all you love, revere and hope on earth, 
 Drive me not forth, tear down this hideous wall 
 That hides me from my husband, let him know, 
 'Tis only for a little, little while, ^-'^ - 
 
 Did he but know our little one was ill, ^.,^ • 
 He'd hasten in the first impulse of sorrow. 
 At its slight cry, he'd be all shook with pity. 
 And now its dying. Gerbhert ! Gerbhert ! come ! 
 Where are you Gerbhert ? 
 
 A''' 
 
144 . ; HILDEBRAND. '^^^^^^^v i^ [ ACT II. 
 
 -^M. You must go hence, or I will force you hence. 
 
 Marg. I have no soul to curse you, your own soul 
 Be its own Hell for this unnaturalness. . \^Goes out. 
 
 I come, my fatherless one, to die with thee. 
 To die with thee. 
 
 (Gerbkert pounds /or f/i.) , . 
 
 Ger^. Margaret ! (s/iakes the grating.) Margaret ! {The 
 Monk raises the crucifix, and Gerbhert folloivs it slowly 
 out.) .. ,, ,,^^.^._^.,.... ._.,.., 
 
 1 ; u \ Curtain. 
 
 SCENE V. — {Audience room in the Papal palace. Enter 
 HiLDEBRAND Wearing his purple robe of state and with 
 . ///w Peter Damiani. Enter a page.) ,,-. .., 
 
 Pa^e. An Ambassador waits without, your Holiness. 
 
 J/ild. From whence ? Germany? ''^ :..'f'yV:'''[^'-^''^'-^'i^f.'-'\. 
 
 ■: Page. Yea, my Lord. ' ■■ 
 
 Hild. Ha, now, the tide went out, the tide comes in. 
 'Tis but the spray to mine own thunders. Now, we'll 
 hear his answer to the Papal Curse. 
 
 Pet. VViit thou receive a message from one accursed? 
 He is no king, no ruler any more. This is no em- 
 bassy. 
 
 Hild. Perchance, it may be prayer for pardon. Henry 
 knoweth by this the power of Hildebrand. 
 
 Pa^e. My Lord, it be but a rude petitioner hath come. 
 He tells no beads, nor maketh any prayers, 
 But rather stamps an' mutters, raves an' swears, 
 And sendeth Rome an' all her cardinals .,! ■ 
 
 To Hell twice every minute. . . 1 1 » ^. ,c 1 is-tfni^-i'i^ 
 
 Pet. Hale him to prison, the loud, biasphemihg hound, ; : 
 The damp of some rock cell would bring him round ' ' ' 
 To proper reverence for thy holy office. 
 He may intend a murder on thy person, . ' 
 
 Let him not in. - . 
 
 ..i'>: 
 
SC. v.] HILDEBRAND. V \- MS 
 
 Ilild. Nay, but I will. Like master, like. his dog, 
 I fain would see the issue of this cursing. 
 Yea, I would see this German foam at mouth, 
 Fear not, I'll match him, call the Cardinals in. 
 
 (Exit Page. Enter Cardinals, who stand behind the Pope.) 
 
 {Enter the pa^e^jolloiued by the German Ambassador^ who 
 remains standing.) * ^' 
 
 Hild. {To Cardinals.) On your lives keep peace what- 
 ever he doth do. Leave him to me. ( To the Ambas- 
 
 ■■■:,;,-, Sador.) Kneel! •:**-; ^'::-*^ '--■''-' .^^v.^-- ■:•:■■■■ ^ y *.■./ <.^ ■■ ..^r.y:..^:, _ 
 
 Amb. Nay, I'll not kneel to thee or other man ^^J 
 
 Till I have said my message. : v 
 
 A Card. Kneel, impious Man, 'tis the Lord Pope. 
 
 Pet. Hale him out, German Dog, Blasphemer, , * y 
 He hath insulted the Holy Father. 
 
 Amb. (Draws.) Come on ye cowardly Monks, I scorn ye 
 Were he a king I'd bow my knee to him, [all, 
 
 An Emperor, an' I might buss his hand, 
 But only Pope, why popes have bribed me vain ^ *^' '^ ■"' 5. 
 To slay your betters. 
 
 Hild. Silence : am I Pope indeed, why blame this man. 
 When ye, obedient, insult me with your clamors. 
 
 {To the Amb.) Hail you from Germany? 
 
 Afnb. I do, proud Priest, my name is Wolf of Bamburg, 
 Cradled in a nest that ne'er knew fear. 
 Bred of a breed that hath a joy of killing. 
 'Tis not a monk would make me tremble here. 
 My time is short, I would repeat my message. 
 
 Hiid. What be thy message ? 
 
 Amb. 'Tis to thee, proud Priest, an' it doth come from 
 Henry. 
 
 Hild. Speak ! 
 
 Amb. Henry of Germany, whom in thine insolence, 
 
146 HILDEBRAND* . f' w [aCT II. 
 
 Thou cursedst with thy foulest blasphemies, 
 
 Sendeth me, Wolf of Bamburg, unto thee, 
 
 To hurl thine arrop;ant curses in thy face, 
 
 And tell thee thou art no pope but a damned priest, 
 
 Who stolest thy popedom. 
 
 /v. Hale him out, tear him to pieces : (A great clamor 
 rises. The Cardinals would attack him.) 
 
 Hild. Silence ! on your lives ! This man is mjne ! {To 
 ' Wolf) Speak on! "^" 
 
 Amb. He further saith to thee, thou bastard Pope, 
 As Emperor of Rome, come down, come down ! 
 And leave that chair thou foully hast usurped, 
 And I his servant, say to thee, come down ! 
 
 . Ail Cards. Devil ! German Dog ! Tear him to pieces ! 
 {All rush fof ivard. ) 
 
 Hild. {Tears off hts robe and throzvs tt over the Ambassa- 
 Back ! or fear my curse ! Who strikes at that [dor.) 
 Strikes me ! 
 
 All. Nay, this is a devil. ' ' ' 
 
 Hild. Were he Satan himself, beneath that robe he were 
 As sacred as God's holiest angel ! 
 (To Amb.) Go Man and tell thy master, who is no king, 
 That Gregory hath one single word for him, 'f 
 
 And that is pity. Let him ask his God ■ vj <i? - .;r^\ ' ■ 
 To pardon him as I do pardon him. - ^ - , , / ^ 
 I lay no curse upon the innocent. >; ^v/ ' ' .r ; ^:' V,?f 
 
 When he comes penitent to me in tears a'I 3 1:^^ ■ -r :' ^^^^^^^^ 
 I will receive him. Go! {Exit Amb.) 
 {To Cardinal?.) Have ye no reverence for Gregory that, 
 Ye should revile revilings in this house ? 
 God's ministers should ever be men of peace, 
 And not a maddened rabble. As our Lord, 
 In that last season of his great martyrdom, 
 Bade holy Peter sheathe the angry sword. 
 So I rebuke ye. Had he s'ain me here. 
 You'd not have touched him ! \^Exit Cardinals. 
 
SC. V.l HILDEBRAND. j -^147 
 
 J^e^. Hildebrand, sometimes it thinketh me . .' X 
 
 Thou hast a magic, thou art the strangest Pope . . . 
 
 Yet seen in Rome. That man, who came blaspheming, i-^?;' 
 Went out your slave. ■ > ^ * 
 
 ///*/</. Ah, Peter, know, we must meet fools with guile. 
 'Tis better to be subtle than be strong. 
 I sometimes dream the greatest innocence 
 Is but the mantle to the deepest guile, ■ • . ;• ,, '^ 
 
 And men but stab the deeper when they smile. ■' 
 
 ;■._/.■:■■;, „ ;■ , ■ '■■ '■ ■:■.''■■■ ■■'■ \i-' ■'■'' ■ -,■ \Curfain. 
 
 -■-' .''. ■ ',' ■ ', -' '«' ^^^^_„^.^__^^^_^^_^.^ " ' 
 
 -v'i: ■■ - ' •■ /;.'.'■' '■ '■:'■'.- ACT III. :.i,4,Kr c|?r ■^' !;;#:| 
 
 SCENE I. — {A deserted ca7np.) Enter Henry alone, j; 
 
 Hen. What is a king's weak royalty to this Power 
 That lifts the crowns from kings and plucks them down ' ,' 
 From earth-built majesties ? I yesterday '' - . 
 
 Who wore a crown and called me Emperor '?f t 
 To these dominions, held a people's fear, 
 To bind or loose betwixt my hollow hands. 
 Made and unmade, held life and death in fee, 
 Made dukedoms tremble at my royal coming. 
 And at my beck squadroned the earth with armies. 
 Am at his word a lonely, outcast man, 
 A stranger to the lordships of command, 
 Holding less power than doth my meanest subject. 
 Then did all eyes but follow at my glance. 
 All hands lift to the twitching of my thumb. 
 Did I but hate, a thousand scabbards clanged 
 To do me vengeance. Had I a single longing, 4: 
 A myriad hearts trembled to beat my bidding. ' 
 But now I am so mean earth's very slaves 
 Might pass me by, nor think to do me reverence. 
 What is this ore man's Power, this mighty Will, 
 "I'hat lifts its hand, saith suddenly yea or nay, 
 And peoples forget their duty ta their lords, 
 
 i-lxM-. 
 
,,"V*',.>;^'; 
 
 148- HUDERBRAND. [aCT III. 
 
 And nobles forfeit reverence for their kings 
 
 And all of royalty's golden splendor is wrecked 
 
 And shattered like a rainbow in a storm ! 
 
 O Gregory, O Gregory, thou awful man, . ; 7 / 
 
 Didst thou but speak I might become a clod. 
 
 Or weed or senseless turf beneath thy feet. 
 
 Enter the Bishop of Ba?nburg and a noble. 
 
 Hen. Come now and strip me, let my very life 
 But follow my royalty. ■ ' • '^^''^ 
 
 Bam. O, my poor Liege ! - v^.^^ . ' : 
 
 Lord. Yea, they have left him lone enough indeed. 
 Damn this Pope's cursing. 
 
 Hen. Why call me Liege ? The king hath gone, my Lord. 
 He went out yesterday when Gregory's curse ^^ 
 Filled all this precinct. I am only Henry, ''v 
 
 A leprous, palsied, outcast, damned man. 
 Where are my servants ? Have they fled me too ? 
 
 Bam. They have, ray Liege ! 
 
 Hen. Gregory thou mighty monster, what art thou ? 
 Thou art not God, for God at least is kind. 
 Thou art not nature, its workings are too slow 
 For such a sudden miracle. Why dost thou not 
 Take even my sight and hearing ? It 'mazes me 
 Those be not fled. Yea, even my Taste and Smell, 
 What blasphemous Ministers these that do my bidding 
 Against thy mighty word. Take all, take all, 
 And let me die. 
 
 Bam. Sire, lose not your courage. Even yet, 
 A few of us for love of Heaven and thee, 
 Defy this haughty prelate. Shake at Rome 
 Defiance of her curses. Though a million curs. 
 With tail twixt legs flee at a bit of writing, 
 Forget that they are men because one man. 
 Who thinks him God, would shake with his poor thunders 
 The cowards of Europe ; know that there be yet 
 
 -riJ,* *. 
 
ji-i 
 
 SCI.] , .• ' . HILDEBRAND. V 149 
 
 ft'? A few hearts left thee. Gregory takes thy crown, \ •* \y . 
 He hatb not got thy manhood, that obeys i ' -•*/ *^ 
 
 The laws of thine own nature. Show this priest, ;Jy:;f;/i' I 
 This blasphemous usurper of our humanities, ''),:".;y'^-;:i{;^'> 
 
 That he may strip the moss but leave the tree . <y. j\ 
 Of all thy kingship standing. , r^^ ^5 
 
 ; V Lord., Yea, my Liege, some swords be Wft thee yet. , f 
 
 ' Hen. And ye still own me? Fear ye not this curse, 
 
 ' ; That blacks the world, the very earth I stand on ; 
 
 Unkings me all, annuls my fatherhood, v'' v", jiv^^'- 
 
 ; Blasts all mine organs, refts me from my kind. " '/.* :'3 
 
 The very heaven must shut from me its light, ^ }' ' *,' 
 The stars no more look kindly. Night no more \ ■ ""'",, 
 Give me her holy balm, sweet, blessed sleep. 
 No friend, nor child, nor wife, this drives me out ' 
 Beyond the human. Say ye even yet ' ''; , 
 
 That ye do own me? This doth much amaze me. '' ; ';.,v. 
 
 ■ Bam. We love thee yet and own thy majesty, . ; . , vr 
 
 V- And kneel to thy allegiance. ^= •.: ;t inf ;:*JX 
 
 Hen. If this were real, Henry's heart could weep Xf >l 
 With human gladness, but 'tis merely fancy. '* : ' \;-v:'^''-.:-:^'^' 
 You'd shrivel up like podshells were you men. 
 The very ground 1 stand on is accursed. ',,;:\. , ; ' ,J : 
 No more may flowers therefrom, but only thorns .;" 
 • And noisesome weeds proceed. Away ! away ! \ / i,! 
 Ere ye be cursed. '-'- .- ;;^-' - .. -... .,„, "' 
 
 Bam. He seemeth distracted. , '-'^Pr^'^tf-^:^. 
 
 Lord. This curse doth lie full heavy of a truth. J-/ "^ 
 Damn that Pope, if I but get to Rome ,f:*^l 
 
 There'll be two Popes. I'll slice him i' the middle- 
 Yea, I'll create a fleshy schism 'twill bother " ■ ■t'^X.-"^?^^' 
 These damned, lewd priests to reckon. 
 
 Bam. My Lord, great Henry, hearken to thy friend, 
 'Tis Bamburg, he who loved thee as a diild. 
 Dost know me ? ; 
 
 '.C 
 
150 HILDEBRANU. , - ; ^ ^ I ACT III. 
 
 Hen. It seemeth I know thee Hamburg, or ought to know, 
 Did not this haze of Hell o'erweight me down. ;: / , r^ii 
 
 I thought thee fled. Why dost thou stand with me? * -t' 
 Knowest thou not that I am one accursed ? ':.;-^'^:;:'^^r'^':''f^:tY 
 
 Bam. Hath nature no pity ? 
 
 J/en. Were it the Queen alone who fled I'd bear it. 
 I never treated her as she deserved. » ; '^ 
 
 She was too kind, I used her brutal, Bamburg, ^: ,.. : r< 
 I used her brutal, she who was so kind. ,•;■'; i^ f 
 
 Her voice was soft, but this my heart forgot -^'r- l-^l y^^f'i-^ir' } 
 In that forced marriage. Had she fled alone ' V •.? ; ' . ;: 't 
 I had not minded, but the ones I loved, .=^;.' ' ;^' -<- 
 
 The men I made and builded, raised them up, . ; ^ ■ > 
 
 Who drank my cup, took honors from my hand, , , , 
 And made the heavens ring with their acclaims v ' • * 
 Were I victorious : that all these should melt , ,. j 
 
 Like some magician's smoke at Gregory's word ; 
 'Tis monstrous ; yea, so monstrous, that meseems 
 The heavens be turned to iron and yon cold sun \ -i 
 Be but a tearless socket turned upon me ; 
 And Pity and Mercy all those kindly ministers > . . 
 Fled from the universe where Henry stands, ' ' ^ . , ^ , 
 Yea, Bamburg, had the mighty Lord of all --X ■■'-'' '■-': 
 
 Such power of unrelenting as this Gregory, r - .: • - v 
 
 The very fountains of nature would dry up, . J 
 
 The kindly elements refuse their office, -'''' ■^:7X' :. Xi! 
 
 And morn and even, noon and coohng night ^^^! ' ;> 
 
 With blessed dews and sunlight, cease to be; '^^^ ! 
 
 Till earth would stand one shrivelled chaos under 
 The pitiless heaven that looks on Henry now. 
 
 Bam. 'Tis the Queen that we be come about my Liege, 
 'Tis she hath sent us. 
 
 Hen. To mock my sorrow with false courtesies, 
 To note my shame and carry to her ears 
 My misery. O iron Ones, have ye . , 
 No mercy left ?, , ^.; v. 
 
 Bam. Nay, nay, my Liege, curse not but hearken me,^ 
 
|«5C. I. / HILDEBRAND. . , '\^^, 
 
 The noble woman we call Germany's Queen. / i^ , \ . 
 Sendeth unto Henry, greeting thus : :5-..j' ;• ♦ r '■ I' 
 
 Though thou hast not an army thou hast love, 
 Though thou hast not a subject, yet a king „. , . ,^ 
 
 To her alone, her kmg of kingly men; *, '" ,' 
 
 Though thou art cursed she still will keep to thee. '^^^ , .' 
 
 //en. Oh Hamburg, this is worse than cursing, can kind 
 Hold such a blessing for a wretch like Henry ? [Heaven 
 
 Bam. It can and doth, Her Majesty waits without. ,;•. 
 
 /fen. O, Hamburg I cannot see her, her true love, ' •' 
 Would so shame all my falseness all mine ill, 
 It seems her love would slay me. ■ [En/er Margaret. 
 
 Marg. Henry! ■,;'•'•-;:. :'- '■'••:^";v.""'i .'.^'- ;■ ;/ ■'/■ ,, ■■■;■',//-• 
 
 //en. My Queen ! (They embrace.) ' ' ' ^ 
 Gregory, O Gregory, where is thy curse? 
 
 ' Marg. This is our child, look up, look up, my Liege, ■ 
 Thy subjects may desert thee, Heaven doth not. 
 
 //en. Gregory, O Gregory, where is thy curse ? , > 
 
 It seemed so heavy an hour ago that earth , , -^ . ■: 
 And very heaven were weighted with its murk, , 
 
 Yet now it lightens. I am a man agen. ::i /;:;,. ^^ 
 
 -'-■ ..rv'.V.vf:'- -.^V.- ■,,■.;.,' ■•,;.^ - ■ ■• .:•': :-v-'t '"■■■;--. ^ , '■A,Vi'vV^\,. 
 
 :■,■•■<■■ ,.'-M. . 
 
 SCENE II. — (^Rise outer Curtain. A yard outside the 
 ''>'■'- castle at Canossa. Enter tivo Monks telling their 
 '■■%.. deads.) • ; _■ ;;:;;^t ,::m:y,^'ji u,-: 
 
 1st M. By 'r Lady, t'was a rare sight, a rare sight, t'was 
 never known afore, nor ever be agen in Europe. 
 
 2nd M. He comes agen this morn, 'tis three days since 
 He's stood i' the courtyard suing Gregory's favour. 
 
 1st M. The king of Europe ! This be the Church's hope, 
 May every season send us a Pope. 
 I must within ere Brothei John doth make 
 A fast which little fits my hunger's constant ache. 
 
.X .«»: 
 
 152 * , f ■ HILDEBRAND. ^ [aCT II#. 
 
 A'- 
 
 2nd M. T'wixt heady wine an' table well provide', J 
 
 'Tis a faring world till coming Eastertide. * >. 1 S^Exit. 
 
 i > ^;z/<?r /ze;<? Soldiers, r'*^ ■' 
 
 1st S. This Gregory hath given us such a sight ' .• 
 
 As makes all Germany ashamed for. ..,; 
 I'll never more hold jealousy of kings. 
 Better to bed J] pon old soaken straw ; ■ 
 
 An' be a targe for pikepoles than be a king. 
 
 2nd S. He looked as though the vvhole world shot its 
 On his bare forehead, [darts 
 
 ist S. Yea, an' his poor Queen, didst see her sue 
 Upon her knees, to gain her lord's admission. . ; 
 
 May such a sight ne'er greet mine eyes agen. 
 
 2nd S. See, now they come. It shames my soldierhood 
 To see a king ensuffer such dishonour. 
 He is no Pope would hold so black a malice, * ' "^ 
 
 To pluck from hell. Let's out. [Exit both. 
 
 Enter Henry attired in rude clothes., bareheaded and bare- 
 footed., with a wisp of straw about his 7vaist^ and with him 
 the Queen in black. ' > ■ ^-; ,': ' ^- : ^ ^ ^ " ; 
 
 Queen. This way my Lord, perchance his stony heart .. 
 So beat upon by storming of our tears, ''''''■ ' ' • ' 
 
 May soften its adamant. 
 
 Hen. 'Tis for Germany and thee, I do this penance, 
 And for our sweet boy's kingship, I, myself '; \ 
 
 Am all so calloused o'er by utter spite '' ^^ 'I. A\ " 
 
 Of too much curses showered by popes and fate, i '. ■ " 
 It cares me little. Let the world go wrack, v v •• '^ ^ ; 
 The elements mingle in a loud confusion, \l^ H^^ ' 
 
 The maddened seas batten the ruined lands. 
 The forests shed their knotted limbs, the year 
 Be now all mad November. I am but 
 A wasted trunk whereon no brutish fate 
 Can wreck its malice. I am so annuled 
 Were all the devils of hell carnated popes, 
 Thundering anathemas on my stricken head, 
 T'would not appal me. I am come to this. 
 
.SCI.] ^ ^ ... HILDEBRAND. . 153 
 
 ; V- Queen. Thou wilt meet him fairly, thou wilt think *> 
 \ Not on thy woes, but on thy dear son's hopes. ■: ^A%^* ;-; 
 
 Hen. Fear not Margaret, meeting such a devil, ^ 
 Who thinketh him a God, but I'll dissemble. '• 
 I'm not the olden Henry that I was. : ;.^;;k^^ ' !, y > \ 
 Mine inward pride will make mine outward meeker, ,. , 
 Subtility with subtility I'll match 
 !- To wipe out this dishonour. [^Ktiocks at the gate. 
 
 :;■,■; -^, \. -.•/•# -- ■• .^ , -V : Enter Warder. ^ ->■;.■-. ... • ■ ^. -■;■ ; 
 
 ; '''■- Ward. Who be ye ? :';i->v.;;r-i .:\ ^ '.\. [',■,■..,[' ■••-., -.:■''■ i- •: 
 
 Hen. Henry of Germany, whose November storms 
 . Have stript his Summer's royalty. :^vvV : :::i:i' : «:■ -; v ' .:' :' 
 
 Vf! Ward. What would you within, Henry of Germany? ; 
 
 ' Hen. Knowest thou not, O Man, I am a King, ' ,, ; ■/ 
 Though crownless, in these bleak, inclement times, . .,■ %■ 
 And this my sorrowful Queen. Wouldst thou not . , , ;;•' 
 ! Do her meet reverence ? .. -^ c^ / /;• 
 
 Ward. We know no King but the Holy Pope of Rome. '':'■■ 
 
 Hen. I seek his presence. These three pitiless days, .;[. 
 All unavailing I have battered here ' ■■■ 
 
 Humbling; my royalty to his stern commands. 1' ' " . 
 
 Were these gates less stony they would open. ■ ^' ' ' ' ,;. 
 
 Queen. O, Warder, mercy ! Pray the mighty Pope, . p 
 A moment's audience. I am a stricken woman, , : 
 
 And this my husband, who, once called a King . , . .»'t 
 Now doffs his kingship, garbed in penitence. 
 Hath he no pity ? 
 
 Ward. His Holiness hath barkened to thy suit. 
 And, be thou penitent, would pardon thee. 
 These be my orders, pass you now within. [0/>ens gate. 
 
 Queen. Now, blessed be Heaven. Henry sink thy wrongs 
 In thy son's future. 
 
 Hen Sink my wrongs? They have sunk so low, 
 That lower I cannot. Heaven but grant me space 
 Till I avenge me. [Exit both. 
 
*54 '^^ HILDEBRAND. ' [aCT III. 
 
 'J.": {Rise inner curtain.) A chapel in the castle. 
 
 " Enter HiLDKBKAND attended by Cardinals. Enter 
 Beatrice and her ttain. Enter Henry and the Queen 
 as before. The Q\5ii^^ kneels. Henr/ stands. ^,.Vi 
 
 Queen {to Hen.) Kneel ! kneel ! or all is lost. '^ ' " 
 
 ' Jfild. Kneel ; proud Man, to Heaven. ' :.; 
 
 //en. Yea, I will kneel to Heaven (hneels), (aside) but not 
 
 • ' • 7 ;■ ' ' ' ' ■ [to thee. 
 
 //iid. Henry of Germany, Usurper, know that thus ^, " ', 
 Doth Heaven chasten holy Church's foes, ' . ;.( . 
 
 Not in hate or malice, but in love, ^ •:;■><'■ . ' 
 
 That showing earth more perilous, Heaven be safe, . ' t 
 Because of thy disloyalty to the Church, . • , ; 
 
 Usurping those her ancient, holy rights, ^ 
 
 Not holding thy kingship as given from her hand, '^' ' . 
 Hath angry Heaven stripped thee of thy crown, "^^ - 
 
 Thy people and thy sceptre, rendering thee ' ' 
 
 The scorned of the meanest outcast wretch ' 
 
 That hugs his rags in human wretchedness, 
 Abhorr'd and despised ot those who once ; '\ ,/ 
 
 Courted thy favour. Take this cruel'lesson ; ' , r 
 
 Home to the prideful chambers of thy heart, 
 And know kings henceforth but as mortal men, , / " 
 
 Their power ephemera of a summer day, 
 Be they not fief to Heaven. Be thy penitence 
 Sincere in this dread, humble hour of thine .^ /,.' 
 
 Thou wilt become the vassal of high Heaven, - -^ '■:-'- 
 
 Mending thy future from thy sinful past. • 
 
 //en. (Aside) Great God ! am I a King? What is a King ? 
 Is he a dog to dare be spoken thus ? 
 
 Queen, (aside.) Henry, for the love of Germany, 
 Me, and thy child, keep but thy patience now. 
 (To HiLD.) O, Holy Father, curb thine awful anger, 
 Remove this curse that weighteth Henry down, 
 Makes him a fearful leper to his kind. 
 Restore his people's favour, thou hast the power. 
 And thou wilt do it. 
 
SC. II.] HILDEBRANp. 155 
 
 Hild. Madam, thou true daughter of the Church, 4, ,v .. 
 Hath thib man used thee well that thou shouldst sue 
 For him our favour ? Hath he not been false , , , 
 ; To thee, to Germany and Holy Church ? , ^ ' , c » • 
 Thou art a woman, use a woman's art, ' ' ' v / 
 Break his presumption, soften his rude heart, 
 And we will soften ours. Meantime, to thee, \to Henry 
 I would despatch my duty as hitjh Pope . ., ,. 
 
 O'er my poor people, in this woeful world. 
 Know you, Henry of Germany, once a King, 
 But now a suppliant outcast at my feet, '. ij , : , - 
 Abandoned, abhorred of all true christian men, * ." -' 
 The scorn alike of lowly and of high, . . , .. ■ 
 
 Know you I would be merciful a little. 
 For this cause I will now come down, come down, ' 
 As you through yours once blasphemously demanded, 
 From out my holy chair of sainted Peter, 
 And be like you, a single, naked man, 
 Leaving my cause with yours to mighty Heaven. 
 
 Cards. O, noble soul : O, noble princely heart : • ■ 
 
 An Abbot. Base Prince, base Prince, 'tis more than thou 
 
 fdeservest. 
 
 Hild. Know, therefore, now, in presence of these men. 
 Members immaculate, of Holy Church, 
 That thou, through thy base agents and by mouth. 
 Didst charge me, Gregory, Prince of God on earth, V. 
 And Vicar of the mighty risen Christ, '" , ^ 
 
 With crimes unworthy of my holy state, ^ ' i 
 
 Heinous and awful, so hideous in their sound, '; 
 
 That they were better nameless, the tongue would fail \ 
 To use its ofifice, giving them to the air. ^ 
 
 Know, furthermore, that I in my high office, • !,, 
 
 Have placed thee under ban of Holy Church, ^; 
 
 Shut out, abhorred and excommunicate, . ,. '*''' 
 
 Because of sins committed at thy hand, ' ' ' "«vv^*^ 
 Abhorrent and accursed in their nature, 
 Of which, God knows, I have the truest witness. 
 
156 ^ "' HIUDEBRAND. [aCT III. 
 
 ( G^es A» attaitar and taking a consecrated wafer ^ returns 
 with it in his hand.) .^,.;^-^i^-_yy,:^)-^^-^,^i--i,-^ 
 
 „ Now, Henry of Germany, men may lie, .':;;:■ - ^-^y 
 And even Popes be sinful, flesh is frail ; '''^1 t" 
 
 But Heaven at last will judge betwixt us two. {Raising the 
 
 wafer. The Cardinals all draw back in fear.) 
 If I be liar in the smallest part, . ! '■ •. ' 
 
 Deceitful or malicious in that judgment, ' ' ' : 
 
 Wherewith I have judged thee, heaping crimes 
 Unspeakable and abhorrent on thy head, '_": 
 
 May listening Heaven which is only just, 
 Strike me, impious, with its awful thunders 
 While I eat this. [^Breaks the wafer in two and eats half. 
 
 A cry of wonder comes from the Cardinals. There ensues 
 a pause of a few seconds^ then he holds out the broken 
 wafer to Henry. ^ v; i ,, ., , . . ■- , . ; •-- 
 
 Henry of Germany, wilt thou do the same? ' ■ 
 
 Hen: {Starts back in confusion a?id horror.) Nay, nay, 
 'tis impious ! 'tis impious ! 
 
 Cards. Guilty, guilty! 
 
 Hen. {Aside.) What influence be this I fight against ? 
 This devil doth ever p'ace me in the wrong. 
 
 Hild. Henry of Germany, wilt thou perform the same 
 .'; And leave thine innocence to the power of Heaven ? 
 
 Hen. {Stands boldly tip and corf ronts Yii\.D.) Most mighty 
 Hildebrand, Prelate of Holy Rome, ,,(.:% 
 
 Though to refuse thy gage be to acknowledge 
 His consciousness of human frailty, 
 Henry of Germany, whate'er his sins. 
 Hath too much sense of Heaven's mighty justice 
 To desecrate the eternal bending Ear 
 By such blasphemings. I am no priest of God, 
 I am no Pope, august, infallible, 
 But only a weak and fallible sinning man, 
 As Heaven knoweth. But in this grave matter, 
 If thou be right and I be wholly wrong, 
 
SC. II.] HILDEBRANI). 157 
 
 Heaven knoweth already without such dread presumption. 
 
 'Tis not for Church but men you judge this issue, 
 
 Hence, I demand a larger audience, ' - 
 
 Tribunal more public than these witnesses, « 
 
 Impartial, unprejudiced toward my wrongs, 
 
 So be I judged, it be not in a corner. 
 
 Meanwhile, if I have erred, in my new kingship 
 
 In word or deed agamst thy holy office 
 
 Here as a faithful son of holy Church 
 
 By that great love I bear for Germany, 
 
 By that dread duty I owe my wife and child, 
 
 I crave thy pardon and beseech thy blessing. [^Kneels. 
 
 Hild. Henry of Germany, thou standest now. 
 Rebuked of Heaven before the eyes of men. ... , >• 
 
 As I had power to place thee under ban, 
 Alienate from holy Church and men, , • 
 
 So I withdraw that ban from off thee now. 
 Arise, my Son, in thy new penitence, 
 The Church commands thee, rise, and go in peace. 
 
 Henry stands. The Pope and the Cardinals /^i5<?«/. 
 
 Hen 'Tis off! 'tis off, I am a man once more. 
 Out ! oat ! let us without ! I cannot breathe 
 In these damned walls! ,.. ■ 
 
 ,;, , w ^ ,.. \Cuttain. 
 
 SCENE III. — {A poofly furnished room _ Margaret i^a/^^ 
 by a meagre fit e nursing hep sick child.) .„. . 
 
 Marg. O Gerbhert ! Gerbhert ! in what living stone 
 Are you entombed, dead to our sorrow now ? 
 Ah, my poor Baby, fatherless, fatherless, now. • ' 
 Dying ! dying ! Like a pallid candle, 
 I watch your little spark to less and less ^ V 
 
 Go slowly deathwards. Hark ! I hear a step. 
 Hush your moans, my Babe. Was it your cry ? 
 Or but the wind, the icy, winter wind. 
 The cruel midnight, eating with icy tooth 
 The hearts of mortals ? 
 
 'M:, 
 
158 ' HIIDEBRAND. [aCT III. 
 
 .-•;■'•■^''- ^v;-;?M' ,■,./ :. -u '" Enter Ariald. -j---: '.■:.:..; ;,:; 'l ;■,(—,. r.{ 
 
 Ar. Margaret, I have come ! ' 
 
 Mafg. Yea, so have Winter, Misery, Despair and Death, 
 Your kindlier brothers. Hunger may be gaunt. 
 But he is honest. Death be terrible, ' \ ; frj/;. 
 
 But he hath mercy on the pinched cheek : is 
 
 And cruel, tortured heart ; but who art thou ? . ; \ 
 
 Ar. Knowest me not, Margaret? ' " 
 
 Marg. I know the Pope, who is a monster stone 
 
 That all the world like some poor maddened sea, ■, 
 Might beat against and break and break in vain ; 
 
 I know earth's misery, its inhuman silence, ^^ 
 Where gaunt and shadowy eyes glare round and watch 
 
 The slow, brute process nearer, day by day ; ' ' 
 
 Of hunger gnawing at the walls ot life ; '. ' . " ;" ' ., 
 
 But thee I know not, thou art far too dread " ' ' "- '; 
 
 For my poor knowledge. When I see thy face ' ". 
 
 This earth doth seem a hell and God a devil. ' " 
 
 Ar. Margaret, forswear this maddened mood, , 
 Catherine, your mother killed herself, ' , . 
 
 By her own folly, hoping against hope. ^^ 
 
 Bethink you of your child. You murder it " '. 
 
 In killing my poor hopes. Give me thy love, \ . 
 And life to thy sweet babe, be not so cruel. 
 You forced me to this, I would not have stirred '> ';; / ilii 
 One finger to molest you or your child, - 
 
 Had you not by your beauty raised in me < ' . .* 
 A longing for to own you, call you mine. 
 Gerbhert never loved as I have loved, 
 It eats me like a wasting all these years. 
 Had I been Gerbhert, master of yourlove, 
 And this my child, I would have fought the world, 
 Ere I'd have left you, dared both Hell and Heaven, 
 Rather than let one furrow groove your cheek. 
 One sorrow rack your soul. O Margaret, Margaret,! 
 Say but the word, that I may save thy child, 
 
SC. III.] : y HILDERRAND. , ^g 
 
 Give me the right to fan that poor flame back, 
 And thme old beauty to its former glow. 
 
 Marg. Blackness ! blackness ! I grope ! I grope I I grope' 
 Forgive me, Heaven, forgive mc ! There is no HeavLT 
 rhere is no God ! The universe one cave, 
 Where I, a blinded bat do beat my wings 
 In wounded darkness. Q my child, my child! "^ '■'"'' 
 bome one must save thee ! . ' - 
 
 ^r. I am the only answer to thy prayer, 
 
 If there's a God, he speaks to thee through me 
 Margaret, Margaret, thou wilt come with me. • " - ' 
 
 Maro, What shall I do ? Is there no other voice ? -^ 
 A^. Yea, thou wilt come. Thou wilt forget all this, t 
 In future happiness. Come, my Margaret ! 
 (Ma,o,,ref rises to her feet as if to go 7m th him, then stops.) 
 . Ar. Nay, nay, I am thine answer, God saith yea, to this 
 ■Marg. O God! O God! {To Ariald) Thou hast thine 
 , Ar. Margaret ! [^^^^.^^ ^^^^ , 
 
 Marg God sends thine answer now. My babe is dead ! 
 {Falls heavily to the ground.) (Ariald steals out.) ' ' i 
 
 Ar. Beaten, beaten, beaten at the last ! '\- 
 
 I almost believe me, even evil me, k '• ' 
 
 There is a God ! ^ . ' \ .. . . '.'•'■ 
 
 ^ ■•■ \Cuttain. 
 
 SCENE IY.--A battle-held. Enter troops marching. 
 I'lghting begins in the distance. Enter two officers. 
 
 1st O. This is the final chance for Germany. - 
 
 Be Henry now defeated on this field, ^ 
 
 He loses empire, Rodulph holds the west. 
 
 2nd O. Woe with poor Germany, her lands lie waste, v 
 Her cities either sacked or armed forts. 
 Withstand the common foe ; her King outcast, \ s : * 
 Battles for his rule with his own vassals. 
 
l6o ' HILDEBRAND. [aCI III. 
 
 {Enter Henry with a few knights.) 
 
 Hen. This way, this v;ay, the enemy press back, ; .^ > 
 One struggle now for Germany and my crown. 
 
 {All pass out. Enter Wolf of Bamburg, with the head 
 
 of RODULPH.) „ 
 
 Wolf. Ha, ha, thou thing that wert a pope's retainer. 
 Roll, there the nonce an' mix thee with the dust, 
 Thou that dared a king's prerogatives. 
 
 {Re-enter Yi^^KW .) 
 
 IVolf. Victory! Sire; victory! ' , 
 
 Hen. How now? 
 
 IVolf. I bring thee not thy crown, but rather the head 
 That would have worn it. Knowest the face ? 
 
 Hen. Rodulph ! ,, 'f ^v 
 
 Wolf. Even so, his army be repulsed. 
 And Germany is thine to rule once more. , 
 
 ,. .y-.^-.. :■.^:f;.-<^ {Enter Soldievs.) 
 
 Hen. Good Lords and Generals, Fellow-countrymen, 
 The enemy to all our peace is dead, 
 His army routed and the battle ours. 
 
 The God of battles now hath smiled our way, .-- . ' > 
 
 We will henceforth resume our royal sway. , . 
 
 See that our pardon be proclaimed wide . ; - 
 
 To all who lay down arms or join our ranks. , 
 
 Meantime we bury this defeated rebel ' 
 
 And >yith him memory of this evil time, «v •; :: .; 
 
 Then hence to Rome to make our empery strong. ^^*\v4>> 
 Know henceforth Lords and Generals, Henry stands 
 The champion of Europe's civil rights. 
 The friend of liberty and trampled man. 
 Nor shall this sword be sheathed till Germany 
 And Italy, yea, all of Europe's soil 
 Be freed from sway of proud, pretentious priests, 
 And peace, humanity and freedom reign. 
 
 [^utfaitt. 
 
[3C. I. HILDEBRAND. l6l 
 
 •.'•-' ■ - ■'.. ACT IV. ■• -.. .' .. 
 
 SCENE I.— (A fortress near Milan^ where Gregory is 
 in exile. Enter Margaret, crazed^ with her dead babe in 
 her arms.) 
 
 Marg. They would have stopped me, but my love's good 
 Did cheat them all. O, my sweet, waxen Babe, [cunning 
 The Holy Father, he will tell me true, 
 An' make thee smile agen, thou art not dead, _= ' 
 
 They lie who say thou'rt dead. Here cometh one 
 
 Enter Hild. 7nuch older looking, accompanied by Peter. 
 
 Who hath a holy face, he'll speak for me , ' 1 . 
 Unto the Pope to make thee smile agen. 
 
 Hild. Nay, Peter, they may rail and rail at me, 
 Strip all my wealth and make them fifty Popes, * 
 
 They will not shake me. 
 
 Pet. Gregory, Gregory, ponder well thine answer. 
 Remember, if thou art the real Pope, 
 Thou art not in Rome. ' 
 
 Hild. Wherever I am, Rome is ! They may drive 
 Me into farthest banishment, they but put 
 God's holiness from out their precincts. I am Rome ! 
 
 Marg. Good Father : ;.,.• - 
 
 Pet. Woman, what wantest thou here? . -i 
 
 Hild. Drive her not out, Peter, see, her reason " - • ' i - 
 Like me from my high Papacy, is exiled . >■ 
 
 From her poor body. I would speak with her. i^ i • ■ 
 
 Sorrow and defeat make men more kindly. W: i^ -^ 
 
 {To Margaret.) Daughter, wouldst thou speak a word 
 with me ? 
 
 Mar, Sir, I would see the Pope, but his attendants 
 Would drive me out, an' my sweet baby here. 
 They say he's dead an' he will smile no more, 
 'Tis but because that terrible Pope had laid 
 His curse on us my babe will never smile. 
 
 Hild. Poor Girl, thy child is dead. 
 

 162 * HILDEBRAND. [aCT IV. 
 
 Marg. Nay, nay, 'tis only this dread awful curse. 
 You are a kind old man, you'll go with me, . . ,--,,,.:;, ^/ 
 And plead with me unto that terrible Pope, ' ,. -, ... ■ 
 
 And make him take this curse from off our lives, ., ,,\ •■ 
 An' make my baby smile. .. 
 
 Hild. What curse, my daughter ? , .;: ., \ 'f^ f ; '• 
 
 Mar^. Take me but to him, I will tell it all, -^i ^ '-' 
 
 But here my mind forsakes me, someone said '■■'■ ■ " ' 
 
 I was his daughter, but they must have lied. ■ ." 
 God would not make a father so unkmd 
 
 To curse his only daughter, kill her joy, ,, .. 
 
 And make her baby like my baby here. ' ' ' -/ . ; • - 
 
 Hild. O God, O God, it cannot, cannot be ! „ ' , 
 A mist seems growing up before mine eyes ! • ;' 
 
 Peter, Peter, this is mine own daughter. ■' " •' ' '/, 
 
 Pet, Yea, she is distract. These women ever 
 Do come betwixt us and our sight of heaven. ' . 
 
 Hild. My Daughter, know thy father. I am the Pope. 
 
 Marg, Nay, nay, but thou art kmdly, hast no heart 
 To lay a winter like is laid on me ? .^ ; ■ : • - . ' 
 
 Hild. Nay, Daughter, I am he, that awful man, : • 
 
 I am Pope Gregory. ^ ^ ; .;^v,; v ^, ;.,: . ■ 
 
 yMarg. Then if you be, take off this hideous curse, 
 Make my babe laugh and crow and stuff his hands .v >v^ ^ 
 In rosy mouth, and speak his father's name, vi-^in/^i^^l 
 
 And he will come They say thou hast God's ear, 
 And He will do it. 
 
 Hild. O Peter, Peter, this would break my heart 
 Were I but human. 
 
 Pet. Send her away. Thou canst do her ho good, 
 The child is dead, and she hath lost her reason. 
 Much must be suffered he'e that good may come. 
 Send her away. 
 
 Hild. Nay, Peter, I have worked full o'er enough 
 For Holy Church, this much Gjd asked of nie, 
 
^^- ^•] HILDEI3RAND. ,5^^' 
 
 He did not make me butcher to my child. '»'• 'Tf .^-^ t 
 Hildebrand in sorrow finds a heart. - ; v'l . ,. i. ,M - 
 Out, out thou cruel man, for one short hour - ■ ■■ 
 Let me forget the Pope and be a father. [JSxi/ Pkter. 
 
 Mar^. Holy Father, make my baby smile, 
 And God will thank thee by a mother's heart. ''''[ 
 
 ^Aj^'^"^' ^^^"gh^c'". <"^od will make thy baby smile, ^ '' 
 n hen thou and I and others like us smile, 
 
 And we have put aside this earthly dross ' ' 
 
 That weights our spirits down, in His Great Judgment. - ' 
 
 J^^^rg- O, Father, thou art kind, and thou wilt do it 
 J hou hast all power, all heaven-given strength, ' ' 
 To bless, to ban, to slay to make alive : ' ^ • '-• -/ 
 
 bring my baby back to me again. ' : ' 'i^ - . /- ' 
 
 ////^. Daughter, I am but a weak, despised old man' ' ' . 
 One poor enough m even this life's powers ,. . ; 
 
 To make him jealous o' yon sweet, sleeping babe ' 
 
 Whom the angel of death makes waxen in thine arms. ' ' ' 
 
 Man^r, o Father, tell me not that he is dead. 
 
 Ih'ld. Margaret, Margaret, this is not thy babe 
 But some sweet marbled mould of what he was. - - 
 
 1 know a bank where we will plant this blossom, ■ ' ^ 
 And water it anew with our poor tears. ' .■'•':' 
 Could I as easy bury my black griefs, - . ^ .' • . -. 
 And ail the storm cloud passions of this life, ' ' - " • 
 God knows, I'd make me sexton to them all ... 
 Come, let us out. ^ ' .- {Exit both. 
 
 Enter Peter and a Bishop.^ r^ 'v 
 
 Pet. He hath gone out with some mad woman but now 
 He gets more in his dotage day by day. 
 I cannot move him, thou canst try thy power. - 
 
 Bish. If he would only come to terms with Henry 
 And patch this foolish quarrel, the Church is safe ' '^"'^ 
 And if not then — ' ^ 
 
 Pet. Then what? . ■ . ft? ■- v,. 
 
164 : • * HILDEBRAND. [aCT IV. 
 
 'i^'; Bish. He must be brought to make his deposition. 
 
 Pet. He'd die first ere he would do either, .. - . ' '^z 
 Here he comes. ' > , - 
 
 Enter Hildebrand bearing the dead body of Margaret. 
 'Tis the mad woman. \ ^ • - 
 
 Hild. Come help me to lay her here. She was my 
 
 '^\' ■ ■ ''?!•> '"■"■■''- '■ • ' - [(daughter. 
 
 Bish. Is his Holiness mad, that he uttereth thus, 
 Such scandal 'gainst the Church's dignity ? • 
 
 Hild. Nay, rather found his reason for an hour. 
 Like other men through earth's humanities. 
 Mine arrogance did dream I was above 
 Men's humble sorrows. See my soul rebuked. 
 She bore it Peter till the first clod fell 
 Upon yon little blossom, then she shook, 
 A.nd when it passed from sight her soul passed too. 
 I fear me much we blunder out God's truths, 
 And mar His angels with our brutal laws. 
 And change His temple to a prison house. ' .' '--, 
 She was a blossom, Peter, so like her mother, v ^^ 
 
 I'll bury her out there beside her babe, 
 And when the winds shake and the roses blow, • / 
 They'll know each other as their angels know 
 Each ether in Heaven. Would I were sleeping too ! , - * 
 Dost know mine age, Peter? I am over sixty. . -^^ :,,,« 
 
 Pet. Your holiness forgets. The bishop would speak 
 
 ;■ ^^; : '- [with you. 
 
 Hild. Forgive me bishop, aye, 'tis thou Brunelli, 
 What is thy business ? ,:: :< .r, &■ 
 
 Brunelli. Your Holiness must pardon my intrusion 
 On this o'er sad occasion, important matters 
 Must be their own excuse. I will speak plainly ;— ^ ,;^ .^. 
 One by one your party leaves you, soon 
 You will be desolate. Our only chance is now. 
 
 Hild. Ha! now? And now ! 
 
SC. 1.] HILDEBRAND. 165 
 
 Britnelli You must meet Henry. ;, :',■:*'. .■■■, . - . 
 
 Hild. Never! >'' •' 
 
 Brunelli. Then Peter, tell him for I cannot. * : 
 
 Pet. The matter, Gregory, is in short thou must 
 Plant empery upon bold Henry's head : .., 
 
 Or lose thy tiara. , . i > . 
 
 Hild. Never, as I am Pope, I will do neither ! 
 Though I am wasted, aged, worn and weak. 
 Deserted by false friends and hireling hounds, 
 I still am Gregory. Never hand but mine 
 Can dare uncrown me. Let him dread my curse 
 Who'd force me to it. Yea, that hand will shrivel 
 Ere it uncrowns me. People the world with Popes, 
 There's but one Peter. Look on this my sorrow 
 Embittering with its pangs mine olden age, * ^ 
 
 And know what I have dene for Holy Church. 
 By that sweet face that lieth there in death, 
 A martyr, if ever was one, to God's great cause, 
 I bid you go and tell proud Henry, yea, ' ' "' 
 
 And all those false, foul prelates of the church, 
 That Hildebrand who crushed out his own heart, ' 
 To keep the right will die as he hath lived. 
 
 \Curtain' 
 
 SCENE n. — {A chapel close near the castle. The grave of 
 Margaret and her child mat ked by a cross.) Enter Hilde- 
 brand leaning on the arm of Peter. 
 
 Hild. Little did I dream that it was I ^.^ ,;r^^%., h^;, ;.,::;. 
 Would be the first to go. O, Peter, Peter," '"'"'• f,iviW-a: . 
 This world — ambition hath eaten up my heart, ., , ■ 
 And my life with it. Better to be there ';' ' "^ '", 
 
 Where she doth lie than to be God's Vicar. ^J^^' I'^JlJ 
 
 w 
 
 Pet. Gregory if you would only compromise, ->| 
 And meet the wishes of the Cardinals, i#^?i*^v^ 
 
 And temper Henry, you might die in, Rome. 
 
 Hild. Never, never, better end me here. 
 
1 66 ' HILDEBRAND. [aCT IV. 
 
 Than give my life the h'e. Do they their worst, 
 
 What I have hved for, I will die for too. 
 
 Better the Church go crumble all to ruins 
 
 And Europe be a field of ravenin*^ wolves, 
 
 Than compromise be purchased at such price, 
 
 And sell the Church's right to impious hounds. 
 
 And make the temj)le of God a den of thieves. 
 
 Go, Peter, go, your heart is like the rest. ; . 
 
 Go, leave me, I am but a poor old man, 
 
 Weak, palsied, leaning slowly to my tomb^ < 
 
 I need no friend, God will be merciful, 
 
 Though cold and rude earth's loves, I can but die. 
 
 Pet. Thou knowest, Gregory, I will never leave thee. 
 
 Hild. 'Twill not be long, and then they'll have their will, 
 O, Europe ! Europe ! Peter, wilt thou see 
 That this place is kept sacred. Yon rose tree 
 Kept watered, and yon twin-mound holy, 
 Till thou dost die ? 
 
 Pet. I will. ^ ■'' 
 
 mid. She was my daughter, Peter, and like her mother, 
 And the poor babe it looked so sweet in death, 
 Mine age went to it. O, Damiani, 
 Thetie women and children twine about our hearts. 
 
 Pet. Wilt you go within ? 
 
 ^ Jiild. Methought I heard one hum an old-time tune. 
 
 Pet. Nay, Gregory, thou meanest a chant or hymn. 
 
 Hild. Nay, Peter, but a simj^le ballad tune, ;.. !, 
 
 That I loved long ago. Know thee, Peter, - •- •' • -^ - 
 All music is of God, and it be holy. ,■'''•',*• '"^ ., 
 
 Pet. What be that noise ? {rising) Who be those coming 
 Htld. Peter, thou wilt keep this place ? [here ? 
 
 Pet. Hildebrand : Hildebrand : Gregory : dost thou hear? 
 Many cardinal? and bishops corne this way. 
 
 Efiter Cardinals, Bishops and Lords. 
 
 Card. Btunelli. Your Holiness ! 
 
SC. II.] hILDEBUAND. 167 
 
 Hild. {Rising suddenly and ivavim^ his handimpenously.) 
 Back ! back ! This ground be holy ! . . 
 
 Brunelli. We be come, my Lord, — 
 
 Hild. Back ! back ! or fear my curse. Sully not 
 These silent, dreamless ears with impious words 
 Of earth's ambitions, Church's greed and curse- 
 Desecrate not this peace with life's mad riot. , ■ ' 
 'Tis dedicate to memories alone . • "■ 
 Of youth and innocence. 
 
 • ' \Tliey Jail back\ he ,^oes fonvard. 
 
 Hild. What be your will ? 
 
 Brunelli. May it please your Holiness, we come from 
 ' ^ [Rome. 
 
 Hild. I am Rome ! And when these old walls crumble, 
 Rome hath fallen, till another be built. 
 'Twill not be long. 
 
 P'^^. Know lord Cardinals that the Holy Father 
 Is iiidisposed. Complete your business. 
 
 Hild. Nay, not ill, but rather worn of life 
 And its vexatious evils, foolish toils. 
 Aye, lord Cardinals, weigh you my curse so heavy ? 
 That ye have came so far to crave my blessing ? 
 
 Brunelli. We come, my Lord, to heal this cruel schism 
 That rendeth Holy Church and maketh mock 
 Of Peter's chair, throughout all Christendom. 
 Henry of Germany — 
 
 Hild. Silence : or I'll forget the Church's good. 
 And curse her Cardinal. Name me not that monster, 
 Save in anathema. Look on me Brunelli, 
 And these poor hands wherein life's blood runs cold, 
 So that they scarce can lift in Church's blessing ; 
 Look on my face and see Death written there, _ 
 
 In plainest rharactry. Yet know proud Cardinals, 
 I still am Peter till my latest breath. ' 
 
 {He staggers. Peter catches him in his arms.) 
 
Y'. l68 : - HILDEBRAND. [aCT IV. 
 
 Pe/. Great God, he dies. Help ! help ! lord Cardinals, 
 The greatest soul in Europe passelh now. ^ '- [help ! 
 
 //i/d. {Sta^s^ers to his feet) I aai going Damiani, heard 
 you sounds 
 Of rustling pinions? Did you know a presence ~ ' 
 
 That darkened all the horizon with its wincjs ? . '-■.-■■■ 
 Nay, I can stand alone. Unhand me, Peter! ' '. 
 
 Lord Cardinals and Prelates to your knees ! 
 Take you my blessing, 'tis my latest hour ! [all kneel. 
 
 ■ All ye who have been true to Holy Church. 
 
 :. Take my last blessing. All who have been false. 
 
 Take ye my — Catherine ! Catherine ! O my God ! {Dies.) 
 
 6 ^ [C 14 r tain 
 
 ■:<■■} : 
 
 .■•<!,