THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Jjeav y/iy >y?*y Gffc/f JUy %**£ X *<»JL £^* sffi & *y ->m |»i»i liU Road ■ -CI II II VltltOW ; STAPELDON. STAPELDON A TRAGEDY. BY THE AUTHOR OF "GONIAL," &C. JAMES PARKER AND CO 27 BROAD-STREET, OXFORD ; AND 6 SOUTHAMPTON-STREET, STRAND, LONDON. 1892. [All Rights reserved.] PRINTED BY JAMES PARKER AND CO. CROWN YARD, OXFORD. Si 93 TO THE RECTOR, FELLOWS, AND MEMBERS, PAST AND PRESENT, OF EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD, AND TO ALL THE GOOD FOLK OF DEVON, THE AUTHOR OF 'iEONIAL ' AND 'THE WHITE AFRICANS,' A DEVONSHIRE AND EXETER COLLEGE MAN, DEDICATES THIS TRAGEDY OF THE FOUNDER OF THE COLLEGE, WHO WAS ONE OF THE GREATEST OF ALL DEVON'S SONS. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Bishop Stapeldon, Walter, Bishop of Exeter (from 1307), Lord High Treasurer of England (for the 2nd time from 1324), Founder in 13 14 of Exeter College, Oxford, then called Stapeldon Hall, a munificent Benefactor to Exeter Cathe- dral and the poor, and Founder of Schools in Exeter and Ashburton; Founder also (in 1319) of the first London Exchange, called 'Exeter Change.' He was sent on an embassage to France in charge of Prince Edward, and returned Dec. 1, 1325, when the play opens. The King, Edward II. Joan Kaignes, Sister of Bishop Stapeldon and Widow of Thomas K. of Winkleigh Kaignes, or Keynes, Co. Devon. John Kaignes, her young Son. Sir Richard Stapeldon, one of the Judges of the King's Bench and Founder of some Scholarships at Oxford; Brother of the Bishop, and son and heir of Sir William (and Mabilla his wife), whom he succeeded as owner of Anncry, Stapel- don, &c, Co. Devon. The Mayor 0/ London. The title ' Lord ' Mayor was given in the next reign. Blanchjleur, His Daughter. Lord Spencer (commonly now so called), the King's Favourite, Hugh Lord le Despencer, Junior, son of Hugh created Earl of Winchester. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Walter Reynolds, once Tutor to the King. The Earl of Leicester, Cousin to the King and Brother and Heir of Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, &c, who was executed at Pontefract 1322. viii Dramatis Persona. The Bishop of Hereford, Adam de Orleton. Baldock The Chancellor, Robert, Archdeacon of Middlesex. Geoffrey de Lucie, of Lucyshays, and Kingsnympton, Co. Devon. William Watdle, Cousin and one of the Esquires of Bishop Stapeldon. John Padyngton, Bishop Stapeldon's Steward. Gourtiay, Thomas, Knight. John Marshall,} H. Moordon, ) Citizens of London - Ladies, Nobles, Clergy, Nuns, Students, Citizens, Performers, Messengers, &c, &c. STAPELDON. ACT I. SCENE I. LONDON. — A Room in the Tower, The King and Bishop Stapeldon. The King [holding a lctter\ You're satisfied, sure, quite sure, as to this To King Charles? [hands the letter to the Bishop']. Bishop Stapeldon. Courtesy, my Liege, is blent With firmness here. The King. And so the worry ends. Bp. Sta. The Queen may set at nought these mandates, Sire ; [he touches 2 letters] She may refuse to come, or come in arms. The King. Must I do more? Have I not done enough, Perchance too much ? Bp. Sta. O King, the Barons' hearts Arc like closed furnace-fires, and if the Queen B 2 Stapeldon : [ACT I. Come ringed with French spears, hordes will drift to her, As to the French Prince in King John's ill days ; Troops should be raised, forts manned, ships built, and wrongs Righted. The King. Ah, Treasurer, if you strike one wrong It yells, and draws the whole pack : then, forts, troops, And ships mean treasure spent, that might be spent So pleasantly. Lord Spencer [opening the door and calling} Ned ! [enters dressed as a Strolling Minstrel ; then on seeing Bp. Stapeldon] Welcome back, Lord Bishop. Bp. Sta. Accept due thanks, my Lord. Ld. Sp. The land of frogs Proved for your Lordship, so I understand, Somewhat too hot. Bp. Sta. A fire is burning there That soon may leap across, find fuel here, And scorch the realm. The King. The Treasurer thinks troops, ships — Ld. Sp. [interrupting'] A bribe to France would serve at half the cost. Bp. Sta. That Nation's life is brief whose arms are bribes : SCENE I.] A Tragedy. 3 And though you bribe France, can you bribe the Queen ? 'Tis there the danger's roots lie. The King [nervously]. True, yes, true ; We will consult on this another time ; And [as the Bishop rises to retire] once again we say, good Treasurer, We thank you for your faithful embassage. [Exit Bp. Stctpeldon.] Ld. Sp. Could we not do without him now ? The King. He's able, Staunch, fearless. Ld. Sp. If he's all that, do you relish His grudging us the gold we need for sport ? But now I want to ask you one small thing ; A tag of land, Ned, like a lance's point, Still stabs my Barony. The King. Elizabeth's ? Ld. Sp. No ! nor yet Margaret's ! Don't look so scared : I've had, I fancy, all the land I want From those two. The King. Don't speak thus ; do recollect They and your wife are sisters, and my nieces ; And one of them poor murdered Gaveston's widow. Ld. Sp. Gaveston has all he needs ; and what they lost Hopped merely, so to speak, from bough to bough 4 Stapeldon : [ACT I. Of Gloucester's potent stem. The King. " Hopped," say you ? " Hopped From bough to bough ! " Nay, nay, the boughs them- selves Were wrenched down, well-nigh snapt, whilst our hands, ours, Ripped off large shoots ! It all swirls back on me ; My nieces' tears, their husbands' rage, the rising, Our powerlessness ; and, then thy banishment ! And then war — slaughter on the battlefield, And slaughterings on the gallows and the block. Ld. Sp. Those Barons would have fought for aught, or naught — They're well cowed now. The King. Not cowed, I fear ; not cowed, But watching ambushed, as the Treasurer thinks, For vengeance. Ld. Sp. Drop that Treasurer, please ; that strip Is neither Margaret's, nor Elizabeth's, I've told you that ; so all this talk seems aimless — The King. Whose is it then ? Ld. Sp. 'Tis Crownland. The King. Hugh, 'tis yours ! Ld. Sp. Thanks, many thanks; and you shall have your guerdon, A bran-new tip-top Strolling-Minstrel's lay. Hark ! \twaiigs his harp.] SCENE I.] A Tragedy. 5 The King. Wait ; we'll have an audience : [calling'] Ho, without ! {enter Attendant] Make a wide cast, quick, sweep in all you find, Big and small, male and female, hurry, run ! [Exit Attendant in haste, and enter confusedly Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen in Court Dress, with guards, grooms, scullions, and female servants, in all sorts of queer garb ; the King waves his hand and they sliuffle in together.] Ld. Sp. [strikes his harp and] sings. It was a bold, but captured, Knight ! — He gazed adown a turret's height With eyes by famine bleared ; While in the castle-yard below Flitted a damsel to and fro, And chattered, laughed, and leered. As weary-worn his glances strayed, They lit and lingered on the maid A moment ; then a cry In anguish shrilled ; — for upwards shot Boy Cupid's shaft plunged swift and hot As lightning through his eye. He writhed, he bellowed ; " Choke that din," The Jailor-carle bawled, bursting in ; " Love-pangs," the Knight made moan ; 6 Stapeldon : [act I. " Look ! " Down he looked ; grew purple-faced, And spluttered, " Murder, eyes, and taste ! That's, oh, oh, Frogmouth Joan ! " The Captive reeled as if death-spent ; But rallied, forwards leapt, and hent That scoffer by the throat ; The scant breath mirth had left him wonned, The Victor straight peeled off and donned His hozen, hat, and coat, And sprang downstairs : a barb stood nigh ; The page who held it screamed, " Hi ! Hi ! Joan, Jailor, catch his head ; Something's forgot ! " Full-tilt they run, The man for life, the maid for fun, And off the youngster sped. The King {enthusiastically}. Isn't it good ? The Audience. Rare! Splendid! The King [waving them to stop]. That's enough — [with fresh excitement] Exquisite ! — Cheer ; — Why don't you cheer ? The Aud. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! [Gournay louder than the rest] Hurrah ! The King. Stop — Hush ! — [to Ld. Sp.] Go on, go on ! SCENE I.] A Tragedy. 7 Ld. Sp. "My Venus !" cooed the Knight ; Oh, Luck ! He caught her, and with one quick chuck Horsed her ; and vaulting clear Dropped into selle, and plied his heel ; The steed, while Joan let fly a squeal, Fled swift as hunted deer. Foes chased, he raced ; ere caught, reached Court, And clasped the Monarch's feet ; " Here's sport ; " The King cried ; " Why this guise? " But when he heard how all nicked in, That Valour, as is fit, should win Love's prize, and viewed that prize ; His Royal bulk began to rock, Then shook with such a mirth-quake-shock, The Lords turned green and blue. Now all had happed at wild-fire-pacc, And when the Knight close-scanned Joan's face, " Odzooks," he growled, and, " Ugh ! " " Ugh ? " gasped the King ; " You'll wed her though, And sharp's the word ; or back you go ! So choose you either jape ! " Marriage he chose : — They had an Heir, The Ma's facsimile, — See, there \_Pointing at Gour- 11 ay] The Frogmouth wide agape ! — 8 Stapeldon : [act i. [Great merriment of the King and the Audience.'] G our nay [in a fury stepping towards Ld. Sp.]. You The King [in alarm]. Seize him, hold him ! [2 Bystanders secure him] Gournay [turning to the King]. He has The King. Out with him ! — Should the King's Comrade stint his mirthful jests? Various cries of the Audience. Whips, cudgels, rack, rope ! — The King. Fling him from my sight ; And never let me see his face again. SCENE II. Guest-room in the Mayor's House : The Mayor, and his daughter, Blanchflcur, and many guests ; enter Bishop Stapeldon. The Mayor [greeting him]. Welcome, my Lord ; tongue, hand, and heart give greeting. Bp. Sta. My heart meets yours as hands meet, not, I trust, To part as these do. [Others enter, amongst them Moordon, and while the Mayor greets them, BlancJifleur glides up to the Bishop.] Blanchfleur. Welcome back from France, SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 9 And from the Queen ;— I doated on her once : But now I Is she still as fair as ever? Bp. Sta. In face and form more grandly beautiful : Yet her eyes gleam like but you never saw A wolfs — our late King stamped the breed out here ; In France I've seen them. Blanch. And in fancy's glass I see them ; as I've seen the Fenris wolf's, Seen the hate's hunger in them, till the chain Broke, or slipped off, and left him free for ravin. [Shuddering] The Queen may so be loosed [with sudden change] I love those myths. Bp. Sta. Though trebly ours, they're swamped by Arthur's tales, And suchlike, now : yet none through all the range Of all man's myths is more sublime than this, That at the sounding of the golden horn The Hero-Gods would gather and go forth In haste, without disorder, fearlessly, To their last battle with destruction's powers, Giants and Monsters and the Fiends of fire ; Knowing the certain issue, death ; yet knowing A purer, happier world would spring to birth, If they with steadfast valour hewed Ill's might. \Jialf aside] 'Twas thus the true God-Hero won His crown. 10 Stapeldon : [ACT I. The Earl of Leicester [coming up to Blanc/ifleur]. Fair day, sweet Lady, whom all fair things here Encircle with accordant charm, and take, As do the petals of a perfect flower, New beauty from the centre's loveliness. [turning and greeting the Bishop] Ah, well met ; may we with our Hostess' leave Confer on State affairs ? Bp. Sta. [to Blanch.'] The State's poor thralls Must ever waive their pleasure for her service. Ld. Leic. [as they walk away]. Let us speak frankly ; you, I know, love right ; Could others yet be won to will it, England Might breathe hope [ They retire to a recess in sight of but out of hearing of the Audience] Blanch, [aside, looking after them]. Queen's Son, Cousin of our King, My Father deems your presence pure delight : I would he kept you to himself! [The young men and some Ladies gather round Blanchfcur]. 1st Lady [to William Waulle]. Your lives Were in some peril in France? Wm. Waulle. The Bishop's was. Blanch. How? Wm. Waulle, When he first reached Paris with the Prince, SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 1 1 King Charles was like his lily-flower, smooth-soft : But when our Queen had put forth all her lures, And found the Bishop took them as a mirror Takes, and flings off, the forms of flying birds, France, changing to her old true sign, waxed chill, And harsh-voiced ; then the exiled Lords 'gan plot ; And one night, as he came from Court, a dagger Plunged on his chest. Blanch, [zvith suppressed horror]. Stabbed deep ? Wm. Waulle. No, snapt, thank God ! For underneath his robes were good steel rings. 1st Lady. How looks Queen Isabel ? Wm. Waulle. Like Queen Guinevere. 2nd Lady. In more respects than beauty? Moordon. Oh, that's good ! de Lucie. But here we have a match for Lanvall's Bride, Whose brilliance forced all Arthur's Court, Knights, King, And Lancelot's Self, to own that Lanvall's words, The words for which he lay death-doomed, were truth ; For all the Queen's charm seemed sheer homeliness Beside his Fay. Wm. Waidle. Good, that ! 1st Lady. French Marie's lay? de Lucie. Marie's, who called our England home, and sang V 12 Stapeldon: [ACT I. For Salisbury's Earl Fair Rosamond's kinglike son. Blanch. In her France gave our England one good gift. 2nd Lady. To speak of gifts, think what that Fairy- gave Her lucky spouse ; a purse that filled itself! That after all was Fascination's crown ! de Lucie. Oh, no ! 2nd Lady. Oh, yes ! Wm. Waulle. No Fairy, Mermaid, Nix, Or Melusine for me. Blanch. Most men would like Idun's companions in the Giant's hold. de Lucie. Why they were hollow, and they had no hearts. 2nd Lady. And had no tempers, that might com- pensate. Blanch. They had smiles always, grace, and help- fulness : Gladly I'd be like those fair women-casts. Wm. Waulle. You? de Lucie. Don't wish that ! 2nd Lady. For all these male lives here Exist but on the hope that you've a heart ! Blanch. \to de Lucie\ A song! Quick, quick. de Lucie. In presence of the Muse Earth's minstrels wait with hushed expectancy. AIL Well said ! [to Blanch.] Do sing to us. SCENE III.] A Trageay. 13 Blanch. Yes, if you wish. {Bishop Stapeldon, the Earl of Leicester, and others come forward to listen.] Woe for the fond Shadow's love for the Sun ! To the fringe of his raiment of light Swiftly she hied ; And awhile she lay stilled with the sight, Stilled with the joy, of his splendour and might ; Lulled, satisfied. Ah, but in charmed sight love-charms begun ; And she yearned to press face unto face, And to feel, though but once, the embrace Of the bright, the adorable One ; Closely, in closely, she wistfully drew. Then forth from the place of his pride Careless he looked, and a careless glance threw Upon her who bent trembling in love at his side ; And the glory that touched her, slew. SCENE III. The front of old Exeter Change, Citizens standing about, talking and jesting. John Marshall [entering]. What wonder's hope lives here ? Has King Priest John Sent a fresh letter? Is the immortal Jew, 14 Stapeldon : [ACT I. Earth's champion walker, going to pass this way ? Or have the Sleepers Seven turned sides again ? \st Citizen. Nothing at that high flight ; the Treasurer Just home from French land came here with the Mayor ; The Mayor has left, and others ; he's here still. 2nd Cit. He's London's friend. Citizens. Ay. %rd Cit. When it suits his mood ! Cit. How? ^rd Cit. Weren't you hatched then, when he spurned our rights, Stamped, spat on them ? Cit. He? Gournay \Jialf-intoxicated\. Yes, curse, got the King To set up, curse it, here the Court of Eyre. Cries of the Cit. Our Rights! 1st to 2nd Cit. [pointing to Gournay\ Who's that ? 2nd Cit. A mongrel fed at Court, But just whipped off ; so now his carcase swells With murderous venom like a spider's paunch. Cries of the Cit. Our Rights ! John Mar. [aioud] That Court was Champion of the poor ; And paid the oppressors well in fines and stripes. Cries of the Cit. The Treasurer ! 2nd Cit. to 1st Cit. Were many lashed ? SCENE III.] A Tragedy. 15 \st Cit. Ay : some Have wriggled to the front again, like Moordon. 2nd Cit. He swinged ? 1st Cit. Ay heartily. John Mar. So heartily He hates the Bishop, London's friend. [aloud] Mark well The Treasurer's gift ! {pointing to the Exchange]. Gournay [with a patronising flourish]. A goodish thought, curse, but ■ de Lucie [entering]. Don't but; leave good un- butted. Gournay [in a rage]. Curse you, you — You Butterfly — I'll — curse — Cries and coutitercries of the Mob. Our Rights ! Hooray ! Hooray ! Our Rights ! — Hooray ! The Treasurer! [Swords and Clubs freely flourished, and a general fig h t im m iueu t. } Bp. Sta. [coming out of the Exchange]. Wherefore this rioting? Gournay [insolently.] What's that to you ? Are you Mayor, curse it, or your Court of Eyre ? Bp. Sta. The Mayor has left, and all the City's Chiefs ; And I, as servant of the King and God, Say, 'lower those weapons.' [All obey except Gour- nay.] 1 6 Stapeldon : [ACT I . Gournay. Your High-mightiness, Yours, curse it, froths 'with Spencer's, Baldock's, filth. 2nd Cit. [to Gournay], Out, carrion ! John Mar. He's no Spencer's sort. Bp. Sta. [to Gournay], My office In Church and State give import to my words, Sheathe your sword. Gournay. Curse — [advances towards the Bishop flourishing his sword ; the Bp. facing him steadily is about to speak again] Cries of the people, He threats the Bishop's life ! Sacrilege, smite him ! Sacrilege ! [they attack him and beat him down] Bp. Sta.] breaking in amongst them]. Hold! Hold! [raises him] Let him go free [Gournay limps off]. The People. Hooray ! The Treasurer ! John Mar. Friends, among all our civic master- minds, Merchants and salesmen trained from youth to trade, None saw the needs of Commerce as he saw : Not one had bounty, talent, energy, And love of our good City so at heart, As thus to rear a merchants' Council-Hall, Palace of Mart, and Wealth's true Treasure-house ! Look at it ! Give the Bishop honour due ! SCENE III.] A Tragedy. iy Shouts of the People. Honour, Success, Long Life, Long Happiness, To him who gave us Exeter Exchange ! Hooray for him who loves the City well ! C ACT II. SCENE I. LONDON. — A Street near St. Paul's, the Bishop of Hereford and Gournay in earnest talfe tinder an Archway, people pass in front without noticing them. Bishop of Hereford. You'll serve me — good ! You'll have revenge plus wages. Where's the Archbishop ? Gournay. He's at Oxford now ; The Treasurer too, curse — pardon, my Lord Bishop — He's there too. Bp. of Hen f. Oxford is a craze of his : And he should never leave it, at least alive, Were Fate's voice mine ; for had those chattering jays, The King and King's King, heeded his deep caw, Our plot, that smiles now, might have grinned with death-cramp. But mark ; Although French Charles won't openly Avow himself his Sister's partisan, Because of — well, that fancy Lord of hers, He lets her take her pick of Knights and troops, And keeps ships handy for her friends to seize When the time's ripe for crossing ; " when " means " now ; " SCENE I.] Stapeldon: A Tragedy. 19 And we, like crossbows charged, await her touch. [A Lady and a Dandy Citizen meet just outside the archway, the Bishop of Hereford and Gournay whisper. ] Dandy Citizen. Ah, this is happiness ! How well you look ; So charming ! So Lady. Just so — So many thanks ; Tis happiness to note how world and tongue Wag with you still. Dandy Cit. You've heard about the jape At neighbour Binks' last night? Lady. Ah, what ? Dandy Cit. Young Guy, (You know the malapert and all his airs) Well, he and Mistress Maud had set their plans : Her stalwart waiting-wench, with help from her, Should haul him up at dusk ; he came, saw, seized, And bound the rope tight round him; gave the sign, Rose upwards ;— stopped ; and dangled in mid air: Friend Binks had struck scent, whisked his daughter off, Put out his line, and when the fish was caught, Gave it a few quick hauls and made it fast. Thus, fabliaux say, a Lady once drew up Her would-be lover, famed Hippocrates, Half up her tower, and let him swing all night : 20 Stapeldon : [ACT II. But Binks hied downward with a whip in hand, And our pert pie looks very like an owl. Lady. Oh, poor young man, unfortunate young man ! Dandy Cit. And then you've heard — [a procession passes'] That's pretty ! — Lady. Ravishing ! Our comely King loves these as we do. Dandy Cit. Ah, You've heard those rumours of the Queen and France ? Should they prove true, then farewell winsome sights ; And, oh (dear ! dear !) such horrid things there'll be ! Blood ! Wounds ! and he who works it (that man's brains Are purely one live knot of wriggling wiles) Is Hereford's Bishop. Bp. of Heref. [angered, to Gournay]. Stop that caterwaul. [He burst out upon them whirling his sword and shouting] Gournay. Whoor ! Dandy Cit. Run, he's mad ! Lady, {screaming). Oh! [They both flee at full speed ; Gournay returns to the Bp.] Bp. of Heref [to Gournay]. Soon we'll scare more fools. SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 21 King, fool, and Court ; but then fright won't be ' Finis.' Gournay. No, curse them — pardon, my Lord Bishop, pardon. Bp. of Here/. Cursing except with candle, bell, and book Brings little profit ; or I'd give it scope : I'd curse the Treasurer's tongue, and brain, and soul, And other Bishops' cacklings ; " If the realm Be sick at heart," they prate, " more need for us To work our own work blamelessly, and pray For healing : " ' Tush,' say I, ' the head's diseased, Past cure, past praying for ; we'll slice it off! ' SCENE II. The Front of Stapeldon Hall [now Exeter College], Oxford, the Rector, Fellows, and Scholars waiting to receive their Founder : Cheering as the Bishop enters with his sister, Wm. Waulle, de Lucie, and others. The Rector [fohn de Sevenashe\ Unto our Founder, to the Venerable Father in God, Bishop of Exeter, And Lord High Treasurer of England, We The Rector and the Fellows, and, with us, The Scholars of our Hall of Stapeldon, Give loyal, grateful, joyous welcoming. 22 Stapeldon : [act ii. Lover of knowledge and of all things good, Learned and zealous Prelate, Statesman wise, And brave and leal to country, King, and God, Receive the homage of thy loving sons. Bp. Sta. My kind friends, take my heart's acknow- ledgement ; 'Tis strength and healing to the Statesman's spirit, For foes are pitiless, and allies themselves Oft foes, to feel that those he values most Know he is trusty, even while he feels They overvalue him, and overpraise. And on my spirit as sunshine lies the thought, That, though chill mists of Ignorance cloud our land And Factions taint it with their poisonous breath, Here through twelve years our lamp of Lore has gleamed. And light yet grows ; the Royal Almoner, My well-loved colleague, with the King's accord Has given to Oxford's crown another gem, He names it Oriel. For yourselves, dear friends, Live ye and walk in light, rejoice in light, The light of knowledge, faith, and loyalty. [Cheers.] [The Senior Scholar addresses the Founder.] Settlor Scholar. My Lord, song worthy of thy praise should greet Our Patron, could we wake the magic lyre Of Mantua's Master-Singer of the world ; SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 23 Or yet of Him whose soul's flight, to the realms Of which he sang so sweetly, awesomely, Fair Florence, thankless once, mourns penitent. Or could the harp whose rhythmic surge was voice For Devon's own Bard, our island Bard supreme, Speak forth our love ; as when its sea-toned chime Rolled deep as Homer's, and like Homer's called Troy's hosts once more to life and battle's proof; Or when the song-waves boomed with Richard's fame And England's warriors, Peers of Paladins, Who fought and conquered for the Hallowed Tomb. Yet deign to hear our slender canticle. [All join in singing the Song of the Founder.] 1st Verse. Laeta vocis intonamus Mentis et concordia, Rite dum concelebramus Praesulem doctissirnum, Praesidem dignissimuin, A quo nostra sunt primordia ! Chorus. Pal mam tundat Palma rubescens, Canticum fundat, Suaviter crescens, Plena vis oris : Quisquis es, plaude, Gaude tu laude Fundatoris. 24 Stapeldon : ACT II. 2nd Verse. Stent Alfredi prisca sedes Munus et Mertonis ; Stent Baliolorum aedes ; Stet, et eloquentia Musis et scientia Praestet, Aula Stapeldonis. [Chorus.] ■$rd Verse. Animisque danti gratis Gratias Deo donamus, Tribuit qui nobis, natis, Te Patrem, justissime, Te, Vir prasclarissime, Cujus famam vindicamus. [Chorus.] SCENE III. A Room in Stapeldon Hall, Bishop Stapeldon a?td Joan Kaignes and her Son, and de Lucie. Joan Kaignes [to de Lucie\ Our friend de Lupo likes himself styled ' Wolf.' de Lucie. I'll second him, I think. Joan Kaignes. How so ? de Lucie. Translate My name, as he does his, into crisp Saxon ; For Norman now sounds French. Bp- Sta. Lord Anthony Won't care, I fancy, to be Saxonized ; scene III.] A Tragedy. 25 And, Geoff, had any Seer foretold this thing To that de Lucie who mid Saxon slain Took breath by Senlac's old grey appletree, His meed had been a rope's noose : yet right glad, Right glad am I, that Normans, Saxons, Danes, Are merged and fused ; and now the Saxon speech, Mown down like grass once, or like weeds ploughed up, Springs through and o'er the slighter Norman tongue ; And both in blended growth shall clothe our land With crops too rich for other soil than ours, Save Grecia's haply in her first full strength. Joan Kaignes. Oh, what are all such forecasts whilst you fear For England's very life, and I for yours? 'Tis whispered, 'tis believed, by those who hope And those who dread it (thou believest it), The Queen will come with fury in her soul, And in her hand as 'twere the sword of France, To strike at Spencer's heart. He mocks, he thwarts, Your zeal for right ; and yet his ill fame's spume Seems splashed on you, and all who serve the King. Break from his fellowship ! — Let him die alone, As Gaveston perished. Bp. Sta. But the King's own life ! My work, I own it, oft seems dreariness, My power seems powerlessncss ; and oft in Devon, 26 Stapeldon: [ACT n. And in these quiet walls, peace seems so sweet : But should I hide, and in my lurking-place Hear the French trumpet rasp our English air ? Now too, when now the King has granted me Full powers to arm the realm. Joan Kaignes. Too late, too late. Bp. Sta. I have launched messages and messengers To levy troops, and I must wait report ; And so seek cheer in watching Learning's chase. Joan Kaignes. Thou canst not raise enough troops soon enough ; Draw not the vengeance on thyself; trust not The King ; he's wrought-steel now, now molten ore — For mine, for Devon's, for the Church's sake, Perish not with them ; be not Thou as They ! {Enter William Waulle.] Wm. Waulle. The Lord Archbishop asks an inter- view, If quite convenient. Bp. Sta. I am at his service [Rises to go out]. Joan Kaignes [rising]. Why should he come ? Oh what should bring him here To break my pleading ? — Geoffrey be our guide ; Come Geoff, come John, we'll view the Oxford sights. [Exeunt Joan Kaignes and her Son and de Lucie with Wm. Waulle^] SCENE III.] A Tragedy. 27 Bp. Sta. [alone]. Your fears, my sister, are no panic-fumes ; Truly we are as men who walk through mists On Devon's moors, when any step or turn May bring them burial suddenly ; my hands, Now half-untied, are never wholly free ; Else I would cut sheer, delve deep, drain the bogs, Feel the firm ground, and see the smile of Heaven. [ Wm. Waulle ushers in the Archbishop of Canterbury and exit]. The A rchbishop [entering slowly and pompously], I n name of our most Holy Church, our Mother, I greet the Bishop of Exeter. Bp. Sta. I greet My Lord the Primate. The Archbp. I had aptly timed My visit here I found, to take a part, A small unnoticed part among the crowd, In a — yes — ah — impressive ceremony. Bp. Sta. The Hall received me with some warmth. The Archbp. 'Tis good To be a Founder. Bp. Sta. Well, the lists are free, And, as we know, the Priesthood's needs are great ; 'Twere England's gain too could our Barons' minds Be trained and broadened like their brawny limbs ; The people too begin to feel their strength, And should be taught betimes, and wisely taught. 28 Stapeldon : [act II. The Archbp. Can you a Priest, a ruler in the Church, Brook thought of fresh growths that may vie with her ? Bp. Sta. " Three pillars prop the Throne," they said of old, " Those who pray, those who fight, and those who work." The Archbp. The State with all that appertains thereto Is but the Church's fief; for all is hers. The Church owns all dominion. Bp. Sta. All is hers ; Not for dominion, but to serve and bless. The Archbp. But if she slaves for men, her slaves by right, They scorn and wound her ; as the King has done, In Lincoln's person and in Hereford's. Bp. Sta. The Crosier was with them no staff of peace, But as a mace to smite with ; Hereford, Thrust on his see despite the King, sent arms To help the King's foes ; as to Lincoln's Bishop, Nevers' great Churchman's claim would suit his taste, To stand at Mass with boots, spurs, sword on thigh, And hawk on wrist. The Archbp. Too true, alas, I fear. SCENE III.] A Tragedy. 29 Bp. Sta. He's turbulent, and false, and robs the poor. The Archbp. Yes, seized their lands, and not to enrich the Church, But merely to enlarge his park ; — 'tis sad ! [Some of the Stapeldon Hall Scholars outside sing the CJiorns of the Founder's Song and pass on.~\ A pleasing break no doubt ! — But to return : The King assailed our rights ; that fact remains ; But could the Queen win her right place, the Church Would soon have hers : the Queen would greatly prize Your support. Bp. Sta. You know that? [The Archbp. starts nervously'] She told me that : She proffered me high, very high, promotion, If England's influence conjoint with France Could compass it. The Archbp. [agitated]. So ? Bp. Sta. Think you that the Queen Desires her right place ? None could dream of that, Who saw her, as I saw, with Mortimer. The Archbp. Her, doubtful, say, position would but make her The more submissive : what too of the King? Bp. Sta. He's slandered. The Archbp. May be ; but the Queen's return 30 Stapeldon : [act II. Would chase the fereign nightmare ; Charles of France Abets his sister : have you weighed his power ? Bp. Sta. Ay, and from dread of it have striven sore, And have at last won warrant from the King To arm : and now already in hope I see Our England strong and calm, whilst round her sweep Threatenings and thunder-voices of the world Loud yet as harmless as her own waves' roar. The Archbp. Could you work that (you're over- weighted though) England thus strong would mean an England proud, Self-confident, less soft to the Church's touch ; Better an England weak. Bp. Sta. {starting up\ What Treason's voice Is this ? The Archbp. Ah! Nay, what traitor's heart hast thou To our high Mother ! Let a man be false To country, aught, or all, if true to her. Bp. Sta. He who is traitor to his Fatherland Is false to nature, self, and Holy Church, And unto God who made him Englishman ! [Enter Wm. W anile nshering in a Herald and his two attendants^ SCENE in.] A Tragedy. 3 1 Herald [to Bp. Sta.]. My Lord, I bear a message from the Court ; The King's command was, tell it out at once In any presence, for that all may know ; ; Tis well {looking at the Archbp.] that all should know it, it is this : King Charles of France for good sufficient cause Has ordered all his liegemen to renounce, And banished from his realm, Queen Isabel. Peril and dread are passed ! Long live the King ! The Arclibp. [in trepidation]. Banished from France ! So ! Ah ! I'm pressed for time ; Adieu, my Lord. Bp. Sta. [as the Archbp. shuffles out]. Farewell, my Lord Archbishop. [The Scholars outside start the Founders Song.] ACT III. SCENE I. WINDSOR CASTLE. — Rejoicings on account of the news from France : a Miracle Play acted, at the point where Noah addresses his wife, zvho is chatting with neighbours outside a Tavern ; foan Kaignes and her little Son, the Mayor of London and his daughter BlancJifleur, Moordon and others, looking on. Noah. Heigh, Presto, Dame, toss off your beer, Yon firmament looks thunderous queer, And, fegs, you'll find the reckoning dear If you don't hurry in. Noah's Wife. Eh ? — Roost up there, eh ? — Leave the town, And leave my gossips here to drown, And good ale to be watered down ? By St. John 'twould be sin. [The 3 sous are meanwhile carrying and dragging various kinds of curious creatures into the Ark with great energy and with comical mishaps.'] Noah [caressingly]. The Ducky Sweetling now will go ? SCENE I.] A Tragedy. 33 Come with its spouse, its — No ? Ah ! [as she aims a wliack at him] oh ! (Good lucky, how I dodged that blow !) [with tone of authority} Obey at once, come trudge ! Noah's zvife. Lawks ! — Cruise away ! Out oar, up sail ! Yon trough with never a head nor tail Just suits no water and no gale ; Be off, your Flood's all Fudge ! [Noah retires grumbling to the Ark and sends his sons to fetch her in, which they do despite her resistance and wrathful exclamations ; she recovers breath, looks round, sniffs and speaks.] Noah's Wife. Such smells ! Birds; Beasts; — Eh, what's this heap ? [looking close] Insects ! [with a scream] Wah, Yah ! They'll crawl, they'll creep All over me when I'm asleep ; — [turning on Noah] I'll break your every bone ! [Noah dodges round and the Sons interpose and keep her off.] Noah [dejectedly]. I'd chop, I would, from dawn to dark, Till back and sides and all grew stark ; — [with sudden impulse and preparing to jump out] Stay rain, hold flood, I'll build an ark Where she shall float alone ! [A man who has climbed up a tree behind pours D 34 Stapeldon : [ACT III. down a bucket of water on them ; they scream and tumble inside and the Ark is closed and hauled away. Other shows, dances, &c, follow. ,] fohn Kaignes [to Blanch.]. That's how the Queen, I 'spect, would serve the King, If she came back. Blanch, [catching and hissing him]. You little Elf! foan Kaignes. Don't, pray, Encourage him. The Mayor of London. The King comes round again. [Enter the King with Bishop Stapeldon, Lord Spencer, Baldock the Chancellor, Sir Robert Wat- ville, &c] The King. Always thus everywhere should earth's sweet face Laugh with delight : Oh, how my soul hates gloom ! [to Bp. Sta.] What sayest thou, my Treasurer? Bp. Sta. My Liege, I wish and seek man's happiness. The King. A n d h e re, Here it is ! Look around ; 'tis gladness all. Who could wish more? Be joyous in the joy. I sorely fear those preparation-schemes Still keep on buzzing in your brain ; — take care, Don't let them sting. Ld. Sp. To round the sports off right, We should have had a Tregetour. SCENE I.] A Tragedy. 35 The King. Oh, yes ! A Tregetour ! He'd give his hand a wave, And, instant as the act, our Castle Hall Would be a forest ; and anon you'd see Hounds, steeds, and huntsmen, and a boar at bay : Again he'd wave his hand, you'd see lists ranged, Knights charging, plunging horses, splintering spears. Another handwaft, and the hall's a lake, With skimming waterfowl and leaping fish, And then past drooping boughs a boat glides in ; A gallant rows his lady-love, and sings, And fitfully the Maid takes up the song. Tis wonderful ; 'tis most delectable ! We'll have a Tregetour, we will, we must ; The best in Christendom ; what matters cost ? Lord Treasurer, come, we'll view the other sports. \Exennt the King, Bishop Stapeldon, Lord Spen- cer, &c.] Blanch. And now we'll pass on elsewhere, Father dear. The Mayor of London. Wait just awhile, Love ; let it not be said We hover round the King's path ; we have had His gracious greeting. Blanch. Who would care to hear Or see the King? The Mayor. Ill words, and fraught with peril ; You seem displeased, and yet you urged me, Blanch., 36 Stapeldon : [ACT III. To bring you to these Windsor sports. Moordon [who has been standing near], Dear Friend, Dear Lady, no one heard them but myself; And any little secret, be assured, Of any Lady, and especially one, Would find in Moordon's breast an ark secure. Blanch. An Ark like Noah's that we saw just now ? — Come, Father ; king or no king, let us go. SCENE II. A secluded path in Windsor Park, Bishop Stapeldon and Baldock the Chancellor. Bp. Sta. The money promised me for armaments Is drained. Baldock. No need of such now — Bp. Sta. Though the Queen Is driv'n from France, where'er her foot rests, Treason Will spring and grow ; my orders to raise troops, Repair and man the forts, and fit out ships, Must be withdrawn now for the lack of gold. I've some blunt words for Spencer's ear; he flouts His Father's counsels and has hamstrung mine : And you, who scorn these pastimes, league with him. SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 37 Bald. Since Spencer holds the King's moods, one and all, As CEolus was said to hold the winds, My Chancellor-ship (pray note the metaphor) Founders or floats as Spencer's will decrees ; So to ensure soft gales my words breathe soft. Bp. Sta. Those soft breaths harden him to set loose blasts That whirl wrath-surges that may whelm the King ! Has ' Lancaster' ceased to be a rallying cry? Bald. Ah, No ! — Oh how they thronged and knelt, and mouthed Their parodies of our Church offices, Before their mob-Saint's picture in St. Paul's, After we closed the Church at Pontefract ! — His rebel's-mantle falls on ' Wryneck ' now. Bp. Sta. I think of Gavcston and his ' Black Dog's ' fangs At sound of nicknames : and though Leicester's thoughts Dwell still, I fear me, on his Brother's death Bald, {interrupting}. His Brother earned death. Bp. Sta. I denied not that ; Yet if his Judges But for Leicester's self Courage is his, and love of truth and right, And power to hold the disaffected Lords As still as hooded hawks, or bid them swoop ; And he is chivalrous, and might be won 38 Stapeldon : [act ill. By Justice. Bald. May be — but the point is this, You want the Treasury refilled ; quite right. [Aside] More chance of pickings, and he shares no spoil. [aloud'] How can we do it ? Put more taxes on ? Bp. Sta. The people are o'ertaxed already. Bald. Humph — \_Moordon crosses behind their backs and hides.] I've hit it ; — once you touched those Londoners up In right good style ; the threat, or just one twist, Of that same thumbscrew will, I'll prophecy, Most promptly prompt the City Midases To let their gold-streams flush your Treasury-pool. Bp. Sta. The cry of men robbed, outraged, trod to death, Gave me no respite till I moved the King To set the Court of Eyre within the City ; And I thank God it did its saving work : But it has maimed my influence for the King ; Should I repeat it then, and not for ruth Or righteousness, but bribes? Bald. You puzzle me ; The money must be had, we're both agreed ; And yet you shrink back here, and boggle there, As if your conscience always walked with corns : Leave it to me and Spencer then this time. Bp. Sta. It shall not be. SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 39 Bald. What say you ?— * Shall not be ! ' ' Shall not,' my Lord Dictator ? Nay, methinks, Our influence with the King can swallow yours. Bp. Sta. I trust not, think it not, that ye in this Can override me ; but, should ye prevail, I quit state-service. Bald. You'd resign ? — No ! no ! We'll let it drop ; the King shan't hear of it. [ Whilst speakiiig they pass on out of sight — Enter Blanchfleur alone.] Blanch. I came in hope to win by some sweet chance Some little speech with some one here to-day ; Am foiled, and vexed — I must find peace awhile From all the turmoil and the rush of tongues And antic mummeries where the King sucks bliss. Yet in my brain an old rhyme whirls and wails ; Voice, give it wings, perchance 'twill fly away ; ' Hide the false smile of the Sun, O Cloud ; Robes to the Moth ! For the body a Shroud ; Mother, dear Mother ! Guideless was Love's as a blind bird's flight ; Joy flits scoffing, Woe's arms twine tight ; As cold and as tight as a Snake's coil, Mother ! ' Guideless and blindly thus my love has flown : Yet whither, whither (had I yet the power), Unto what other goal, would I guide love? ' What other goal ? ' Ah, there whereto it speeds 40 Stapeldon : [act III. There is no goal, no bourn, no resting-place! Joy scoffs and flees, and flings back barbed shafts ; And round my throat I feel Woe's chilly arms : — Yet would I cast them from me, if I could, To take once more Contentment's dull caress, E'en though I knew that, like a snake's, their clasp Would tight 'n and strangle me? [Moordon comes forth from his hiding-place.~\ Moordon [fawningly], 'Tis strange we meet Thus, may I be your escort now? Blanch, [agitated]. My Father Is coming ; leave me please ; he's doubtless close, He'd marvel much to find us here alone. Moordon [in his natural assertive tones']. Dangers are round you ; drunkards, satyrs, thieves, Prowl in troops, let me guard you till he comes ; Then if you wish it, and it must be so, I can but hide myself: yet wherefore hide ? My standing in the City is assured ; And t'ward yourself beneath deep reverence As flame below heaped incense burns my love. Blanch. ' Love ' said you ? [changing] nay then by man's manliness Misuse not this occasion ; — leave me, pray. Moordon. My Duty to yourself and Sire cries, ' go not.' Blanch. I have no fear. Moordon. But, oh, I fear for Thee ; SCENE il] A Tragedy. 4 1 And, oh, the pangs of love's fears ! — Blanch. Let me not, I will not, hear such words. Moordon. You have lived your life Mid fluttering fulsome flatterers, till you count Yourself a Goddess, and a man's heart dirt — Nay, nay, forgive ; I knew not what I said ; Let thy wrath pass ; I meant it not ; slay not My hope that some day you may love me, some day ! Blanch. Woman, if driven at last to hold in scorn That which she once has loved, may love it still ; But when scorn first Moordon. Thou lovest ! Ah, I know it ; Thou dar'st love one debarred from thee and love By man and God ! Blanch. Thou Dastard, oh, thou Dastard ! Some one might wed thee ; such as choose a man For shape and size, as butchers choose an ox : Thy fine frame, fine eyes, fine voice, cry, ' Behold, Admire! A Lion ! ' And beneath it all There lurks the small mean curlike thing thy soul ! Moordon. Hell's Devils' yell ! — Thou, He, thy Love, thy Lust, Shall pay with pang and shriek ; rent flesh, rent soul ! Blanch. ' Pang and Shriek ! ' Ah, you knew them ; ah, you knew ' Rent flesh,' ' rent soul,' thou Plunderer of the poor, 42 Stapeldon ; [act hi. When jailors swung the whip-thong ! I love thee? [Moordon maddened with rage rushes at her ; She Jlees, and he pursues her. Re-enter Bp. Stapeldon and Baldock still talking together, ,] Bp. Sta. Another thing, the Silver-mines in Devon, At Martin's Combe, might well be worked again, In concert with the owners of the soil ; The late King worked them with complete success. Bald, [excitedly]. Is there good ore there, is it workable ? Bp. Sta. Good ore ; good quality, good quantity. [a scream heard] Some one screamed ! Come, there's some one in distress ! Bald. Pray, don't be flustered ; our discourse just now Is growing quite engrossing ; — that's not much, Some harum-scarum for the moment scared, Has led her pet young man a bit too far ; She'll soon be all 'tee-hees' and smirks again. Bp. Sta. [impatiently]. Come quick. Bald. Thanks, no knight-errantry for me ; [Bishop Stapeldon hurries off without anotlier word.] Bald, [looking after him]. Scud away ; that's it ! [laughing] How Episcopal ! — If he resigned, 'twould be unpopular ; In fact, though Spencer underrates the risk, 'Twould I think swamp us, so I stroked him down ; But verily with all those jabberings SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 43 Of Justice, Charity, and Armaments, At times he's almost quite unbearable : So if he likes to get his pate smashed in, Now that my Lady Queen is muzzled tight, ' Let him,' say I. [walks off leisurely in the opposite direction.] [A scene opens out in the distance ; a wild tliickct, BlancJifieur overtaken by Moordon stops exhausted.] Moordon. Where's your effrontery now ? Flight has but carried you you know not where ; Again I say, ' I love you ;' Ay, but now Love's form is changed ; mine, mine you shall be, mine ; I reck not if the terms be fair or foul ! [He advances towards her ; she screams again but faces him with her back against a tree ; Bishop Stapeldon rushes in.] Bp. Sta. [to Moordon] Back, Hound ! [Moordon draws his sword and attacks him furiously \ but is at last struck on the wrist by the Bishop's Staff ; his sword falls, and he turns and flees.] Blanch, [staggering]. Saved ! — Saved ! I bless Heaven's love — and Thee — [She sinks fainting, and as the Bishop hastens towards her and calls aloud, some people come running in.] ACT IV. SCENE I. LONDON. A Room in the Tower, The King and Lord Spencer finishing a game of"pitcli and toss." The King {delightedly, having won]. The best, the loveliest game ! Ld. Sp. At least unique, Or nearly so, through nearly two hours' play, Not counting Leicester's interlude. The King [excitedly]. What? what? You've won most ? Say you that ? You know you haven't ! Play again then : Wait, here's our crooky-back Who capers on a bench so witchingly. [A Hunchback is brought in, and begins to dance ; the King takes his seat ; many peep in from outside.] [to the peepers] Troop in ! — [They bustle in.] Ld. Sp. [admiringly]. Good. The King. Glorious ! I could sit hours, hours, And never move, or speak a word, but watch Such genuine sport as this — [to Ld. Spencer] Our game though ! [to the man] Stop ! — SCENE I.] A Tragedy. 45 That's enough ! — [throw him gold coins] Here's your guerdon — [to the others'] Skip out all ! [all retire] [to Ld. Sp.]. Come, Boaster— [Prepares to play again.] Ld. Sp. Let's have stakes worth playing for. The King. That's not a Sportsman's but a Gam- bler's spirit ; Yet as you please. Ld. Sp. I'll risk my best, my Falcon : Full oft when felled by Ill-luck's lance and bruised By Famine's hoof good Knights have sold lands, steed, Arms ; rather though than have their wristbirds sold, They'd starve or hang themselves ; yet matched with mine Theirs would have proved to be mere popinjays. That's my Stake ! Verily 'a bird in hand ; ' Yours may be just half (so the Proverb says) ' The Bird in bush ; ' since Treason's simmering pot Seems just upon the boil again, you stake The choice, or chance of choice, of forfeit lands. The King. Hugh !— Will the Lords rise? Must we have once more Carnage on battlefields, and if we win, On block and gibbet? — But we're unarmed ! Hugh, We cannot win. Oh, how The Treasurer Sued, strove, for leave to raise, and would have raised, 46 Stapeldon : [ACT IV. Troops, fleets— and now we shall be crushed, crushed, slain ! Ld. Sp. We'll crush the Baronsas at Boroughbridge. The King. But the Queen's bond and plots with Hainault's Count ! Ld. Sp. ' Hainault ! ' — For such, Ned, England owns the power That sphered the Fay, who (so the Trouvere sings) Roamed through the woods in likeness of a fawn ; For when the hunter loosed his shaft at her, It flew back, point reversed, and spiked his thigh. \_Enter Baldock hurriedly.] Ld. Sp. \to Baldock\ Why so abrupt ? The King. Is aught wrong, Chancellor ? Bald. Leicester Ld. Sp. Well, what of him ? We've had him here With eyes' whites showing and with neck awry, The ditto of a mule about to kick. You found him tame? Bald. I found and left him wild ; He angered me with those reforms of his ; And Hereford's Bishop who was hovering round Soon as we parted, made his swoop, and trussed And bore him off; — and just then news was brought The King \tremnlously\ What news ? What ? — Ld. Sp. [angrily]. Don't appal the King, he's scared Enough already. SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 47 The King. Oh, what is it? Tell me — Oh, if we only had the Treasurer here ! Ld. Sp. ' The Treasurer ? ' Why want him ? What good is he? [Baldock makes a sign and hands Lord Spencer a paper secretly, he after a glance at it exclaims] By Heaven, or Hell, Ned, there's no jesting here. SCENE II. Exeter. — Some of the Clergy, citizens and country folk in front of the West Entrance of the Cathedral. A Cathedral Priest. They're cheering, hark ! He's come ! Pray Heaven State-needs Won't hurry him away again. Moordon [disguised, addressing a Countryman from North Devon]. This seems A biggish muster. 1st Countryman. Zo it be [turns azvay and crosses over to 2nd Countryman and says] D'ee zee Thic ther gert Lubbercock ? 2nd Countryman [stolidly]. Be zhure. 1st Countryman. Thee watch 'en. Cathedral Priest, [to Moord.] 'Tis a strong hearty gathering; and the Mayor Has gone to greet the Bishop at the gates With half the City's hive, and delegates 48 "Stapeldon : [act IV. From towns that owe to him their Schools or fairs ; And yet the pomp is less, far less, to-day Than when he entered on his Bishoprick, For now we've had short notice. Yet his worth Has year by year won on us ; till we know We have in him Devon's Avorthiest, greatest, Son. So if display's at neap 'tis love's spring-tide. Moordon. Ah, well. Cath. Priest. His gifts to our Cathedral too, Books, vestments, jewels ; and the Canopy ! You've seen it? Moordon. No — Cath. Priest. Not yet ? You will be charmed ! Then his Sedilia's matchless workmanship ; And, oh, the throne that seems to toss on high Slender shafts, foliage, arches, pinnacles, As if a fountain, with its jets and curves And glass globes, all at once stopped, and was oak ! And he has gathered to complete the work- Wood, stone, and precious things, at princely cost, As David did for the House of God of old. Moordon. [with concealed sneer]. Charming ! 1st Cit. And then his goodness to the poor. Cath. Priest. And once through him a miracle was wrought ; Orey a Keynsham man, a fuller by trade, Was suddenly struck blind ; and in a dream Was given the hope of cure at Crediton, SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 49 There, whilst the Bishop read the Holy words, The blind had sight ; his neighbours, friends and wife Proved the facts point by point. Moordon. They'll make that Bishop A Saint ! [aside] I'd join in making him a Martyr. [aloud] Is the King loved here ? 1st Cit. We are for the King. 2nd Cit. More so than when he made that Gascon spawn Our City's Lord Supreme, and Earl of Cornwall. \st Cit. The King of Romans, King of Germany, He who was nephew, namesake, and the Peer Of Lionheart as Leader of Crusade, He was right Lord for us. Moordon. There's still a Gaveston. 2nd Cit. He's not at any rate our Lord Supreme. Moordon. Scorn then of Gaveston led your City to start A claimant for the Throne ? 1st Cit. We ' start a Claimant ! ' — A Tanner here once dubbed himself* The King.' Moordon. Men said, that when, some forty years ago, The late King came here with his Queen and Son, Two babes by botch or treason got misplaced And when the Court left, Baby Prince was left, And Baby Tanner taken ! This we know E 50 Stapeldon : [ACT IV. The late King passed as wise and brave 2nd Cit Hist, Fool, The man was hanged ; and hounds too wild of tongue Get hanged ! Our Bishop knows the rightful King. ist Countryman [to 2nd ditto]. Kip yer hoye 'pan 'en. Moordon [trying to look unconscious and addressing Cathedral Priest], Your Cathedral bounds Are walled, I see. 2nd Cit. They'd suit a rising, eh ? Is the Queen coming ? Are the Barons up ? Moordon. Ah! How, what ? [Cheering heard near.] Cath. Priest [interposing]. Our Cathedral Close was walled, When Lechlade, I can just remember it, Precentor Lechlade, as he came from Mass Was at that spot [pointing] waylaid, and murdered. [He hastens off to take his place in the procession^] 1st Cit. Murdered ! The Priest of God ; oh, cursed Sacrilege ! [Singing heard.] 2nd Cit. Heaven fend the Omen's scath — Here comes the Bishop ! [The procession enters ; the Choir, singing, then the Bishop, the Dean [Barth. St. Lawrence], the Clergy with banners, &c. Some of the Nobility, Lords Courtenay, de Moels, Columbers, &c. ; the heads SCENE III.] A Tragedy. 5 r of some of the Devon families, Raleigh, Grenville, Monk, Churchill, Fortescue, de Cirencester, Cruzvys, &c, and the Mayors of Exeter, Barnstaple, &c] Part of the Hymn heard. Eden's peace and Eden's beauty Mirrored, Lord, Thy soul's love-tide ; Yea Thy life's power moved in oneness, As the deep calm rivers glide : All our Being seethes with passions, Discord shrieks with discord blent ; Speak Thy peace-word, still the raging, Let it purl with Love's content. {They pass into the Cathedral."] SCENE III. EXETER. — A room in the Palace, Bishop Stapcldon writing. Enter Wm. Waulle. Wm. Waulle. May Padyngton, my Lord, have speech with you ? Bp. Sta. Yes [Exit Win. Waulle — enter fohn ' Padyngton]. Well, good John ? Padyngton. I've found and bought, my Lord, Some prime heart-oak for your Cathedral work ; The price is well below my estimate. Bp. Sta. Well done ! Now can't we buy a little more? 52 Stapeldon: [act iv. Pad. Please think, my Lord, what sums you're spending here : — But may I speak a word on something else, Something still more important ? Bp. Sta. [in pretended surprise]. Can it be? Something still more important than accounts ! Pad. [offended]. Your Lordship would I see prefer a jest. Bp. Sta. Angry ? Pad. Forgive the old man's petulance ; Age makes him silly. Bp. Sta. [heartily]. Nay, who, old or young, Can match my rare old John ? Pad. [deprccatingly] . My Lord — My Lord — Bp. Sta. Tell me your thought then. Pad. I have watched, none knows How anxiously, the tokens of the times ; And if the Queen bring war, The Lords will rouse Like hounds at blast of horn, and chase the King, Court, Councillors, all, save one ; your treasure flows To Devon, in Devon your heart is ; — I must speak, Would thou wert Bishop only ! Bp. Sta. If the State Were sound and restful, you should have your wish ; But by my King's voice God has summoned me To serve all England : could I then draw back ? I must to London shortly ; stay you here SCENE IV.] A Tragedy. 53 And keep good watch on our Cathedral work. Pad. Stay behind ? Not go with you ? Stay back here? No, no ! Please God, I can't stay here, my Lord. Bp. Sta. Should there be danger ; and Treason's knife, I own, Though cloaked is clutched ; you would but risk your life, Not shelter mine. Pad. But who would seek or care To harm a life of such slight worth as mine ? I should be safe : and yet if otherwise, And if the doom be set that Thou must die, O kind dear master, I would die with thee. Bp. Sta. Would'st thou, my true old Comrade ? Yea, I know Thou would'st : God bless thee ; but forbid it thee ! SCENE IV. EXETER. — Moordon, still in disguise, is being hooted and maided ; enter Bishop Stapeldon with attend- ants and a Priest carrying the Pastoral Staff. Bp. Sta. What's this ? 1st Countryman {from the crowd]. We'm larnin' 'en be'aviour like ; 'E goed vur zay, " thic Bcshop (thac's yer Lerdshup) 54 Stapeldon : [ACT IV. Beaint vitty ta be nort bit Devonsheere !" Us did ought, drat it all, us knaw us did, Ta've knacked 'is gert squat 'ead off; bit ther' now Ye'll 'a' 'en 'anged up praper. Bp. Sta. Did he say I wasn't fit to be a Devonshire man ? 1st Countryman. Naw, naw — 'E zaid that yer was awnly vit Vur be a Devonsheere man. Bp. Sta. No harm in that ! Why what else should I be, or wish to be ? [applause from the Bystanders.] 2nd Countryman. Ay, fathy, 'tes the foindest, bestest, thing Thit mortial man cud be : 'tes cruel 'ard Vur they poor volks 'ot can't be Devonsheere : Poor toads ! — Naw, us wudn't ave 'e be, Nat vur warlds, wan o' They ! — Bp. Sta. [pointing to the Prisoner]. Then let him go- 1st Countryman \_deprecatingly]. 'E aimed us knaw to be assaultin' like. Bp. Sta. Well, never mind that. 1st Countryman. Don't 'e, don't 'e now ; Mascy, don't go vur make us let 'en go ; Vur, blame 'en, if 'e didn't vleer and zneer Agin the King. [Moordon is in great terror of the people and lest the Bp. should recognise him.] SCENE V.] A Tragedy. 55 Bp. Sta. Ah ! 2nd Countryman. 'E've bin axin' tew, Auld Nick knawth 'ot *e aint bin axin 'ov — Bp. Sta. Is he a spy then ? 1st Countryman {.giving Moordon a prog that makes him yell out], Thac's the Varmint, zhure ! Bp. Sta. Take him away then ; have him locked up safe ; But see you don't maltreat him. Chorus 0/ Bystanders. 'Ees, yes, yes, 'Ees, be zhure, bless yer Lerdshup, fath us wull. 1st Countryman [coaxingly]. Bit do 'e now, avore us reep 'en off, Coome, do 'e gie 'en wan dap acrass 'is 'ead, [pointing to Pastoral Staff] Wi' thic ther crook — jist wan gude solid dap ! [holds Moordon 's head forward temptingly]. SCENE V. A Room in the Palace. Bishop Stapeldou and his sister, and representatives of the Cathedral Chapter, and the Prioress with some of the Nuns of Polstoe. Bp. Sta. [signing a Paper]. Thus I confirm the covenant agreed 5 6 Stapeldon : [ACT IV. Between you, Holy Prioress, and the Chapter. Duty to King and realm has drawn me hence Too long of late ; but if God grant us peace, My heart's desire and hope may be fulfilled, To live here with you all and work with you : Receive my Benediction each one here. {They take cordial leave and retire.] Joan Kaigncs. Some day, my Walter, all shall own thy worth As Devon's heart does ; then may come to pass That which the Queen foreshadowed ; as her lure. [Enter Sir Richard Stapeldon with John Kaignes, who runs to the Bishop, ,] Oh, while I ponder all the terror past, My heart's joy beats like quivering wings, or throats, Of song-birds, and it sings, " Safe, Walter, safe ! " [to her Sou] What was that little ditty Blanchfleur made When you kept humming, as a kitten purrs, From sheer content, when Uncle came back safe ? [to her Brothers] I pressed dear Blanch to come down here with us ; She seemed to wish it, yet she seemed to shrink : Poor Blanch ! Her health and strength and nerves I fear Are sadly strained : [to her Son] Sing, John, or say the lines. SCENE v.] A Tragedy. 57 John Kaignes, Two little Fairies skipped into a heart ; One was called ' Music,' the other called ' Joy ; ' 1 Softly,' Joy whispered, ' how vocal thou art ! When I am gladdest, I'm silent and coy ! ' ' I cannot live, cannot live, and be dumb,' Thus carolled Music's voice, ' Let's agree, come, (Surely we would not each other annoy) Not song, or silence, then ; just a blithe hum, Let us like humble-bees cheerily hum ; You, the heart's owner, too, hum, little Boy ! ' Bp. Sta. Bright lines and brightly given. [Enter Wm. Waulle with papers.] Wm. Waulle. A packet brought By courier, my Lord [hands it and retires']. Bp. Sta. [opening it]. From Leicester's Earl ; — [ajter glancing through it] First cordial greeting, then the purport thus ; ' Can you assure me that the rights here named [showing a Schedule] Shall be respected, and the wrongs redressed, Despite Lord Spencer and the Chancellor ?' " Despite Lord Spencer and the Chancellor " — So then they have repelled him finally : Yet these demands are just : — Ah, would the King Dared cede me power here ! Sir Richd. Sta. Yours is that Knight's fate, 58 Stapeldon ; [ACT IV. Who in the Fay's glen saw just past its verge That which his whole soul yearned for, whilst the air Grew hard, impassable, as walls of glass. Joan Kaignes. Would they but give you peace to keep with us That day of your return. Sir Richd. Sta. We'll keep the day Together somehow. Bp. Sta. [to John Kaignes]. And be children all That day, my Johnny. John Kaignes [delightedly]. Oh ! [gives some skips and then nestles into the Bp.] Bp. Sta. [caressing him and speaking to his Sister]. Last week I dreamt Our other three, you, Joan, and Richard and I, Were playing round dear Father's and Mother's chairs ; I saw the massive form and merry eyes, Whose clear blue-grey beneath the drooping lids Was never blurred by malice or by hate, Yet how they lowered or gleamed at thought of wrong ! I saw our little mother's mobile smile, The dark hair's floss, and dark eyes full of love, Love to mankind, and sevenfold love to us. Joan Kaignes. Would I could see them now ! Bp. Sta. In God's good time SCENE v.] A Tragedy. 59 We shall be with them. Joan Kaignes. May God give you first Many years, many years, of vigorous life. Sir Richd. Sta. Yea, for while knowledge grows, and brain-power grows, Each year that adds but one to life's account May multiply life's value twentyfold. Joan Kaignes {suddenly to the Bp.~\. And, oh, that stabber in France, and that vile Moordon Would have cut short your life ! Is Moordon tracked ? Bp. Sta. No — not yet — But [with a Jlash oj thought'] — can that be Moordon ? Joan Kaignes. Who ? Bp. Sta. He whom they called a Spy ; whilst looking at him I felt, ' I've known that man ;' and then again The feeling passed, [to Sir Richard] We'll question him to-night. Wm. Waidle [entering and handing papers]. From the King's grace, my Lord ; the Bearer's horse Sank at the gates. [Exit Wm. Waulle, and John Kaignes runs out with him.] Bp. Sta. So urgent ! [reading the letter] ' Haste ; the Queen, And John of Hainault, Brother of the Count, Draw nobles, knights, troops, ships, to Holland's coast To invade the realm ; and here the mutinous Lords 6o Stapeldon : [act IV. Are arming to receive them ! Speed to me ; Let nothing stay thee ; I command, implore ! ' Joan Kaignes [with a cry]. Oh, Peace is slain ! Sir Richd. Sta. That bribe to France brought ruin ; For ours like spendthrifts' arms were sold for feasts. Joan Kaignes. They foiled, those two, your zeal for righteousness ; Else you had healed the hatreds bred of wrongs. Bp. Sta. Leicester must have reply first ; then for London. Sir Richd. Sta. I go with you : — War gathers front and rear, No man so girt can guard himself ; but two May shield each other fighting back to back. Bp. Sta. First rouse Devon's strength, then come to me. Joan Kaignes [despairingly]. The Dread, All last year's dread, drifts back on us again ! [wildly] Do not go ! — I beseech thee, do not go ! Bp. Sta. If my King's mandate could be dis- obeyed, Yet would my King's appeal be God's command. Stay thou here, dearest. Joan Kaignes. Could I wait days, weeks, To get scant news, and then feel, if the news Were glad, that that same hour might be death- fraught ; SCENE v.] A Tragedy. 61 And if the Messenger brought grievous news, To know, that yearn and suffer as I might, I could not reach your side for days or weeks ? I cannot, cannot, stay. Bp. St a. My fear for you Might numb my arm or brain. Joan Kaignes. Oh, let me come : Let me not thus be parted from you, Walter ! Bp. Sta. Will you then promise if I give the word, Saying, ' It must be so, it must be now,' That you at once will seek some safe retreat? Joan Kaignes. If — yes — if else I may not go — I promise ! ACT V. SCENE I. LONDON. — A Tavern near St. Paul's ; Goumay, Moor don, and a 3rd Conspirator. $rd Conspirator. Good luck ! Goumay. Curse, when the storm has chucked away Hainault's fleet, Nick himself can scarce tell where, Unless he has it safely lodged below ! 2>rd Cons. Tis lodged on Orwell's banks : Queen, Prince and Kent Are landing now. Moordon. To work then ! Rouse the City ! Or when luck's sky rains spoil, 'twill leave us dry. 3rd Cons. All 'Wryneck's' vassals are in arms, they say, But make no movement, for he gives no sign. Goumay. By the Pit's fire-jaws, once that Trea- surer, curse, Nabbed him almost, when Belial's Son (bless, curse, him) Baldock struck in, turned Leicester sour, and I, SCENE I.] A Tragedy 63 You'll find, I think, have settled it. Moordon [sneeringly] — What, You ? — Your Patron may have ; he, we know, delved hard To make the ditch 'twixt King and Queen a chasm, And bridged the gulphs that kept the King's foes sundered, And Gournay [breaking in]. That's all true enough, and stale enough ! Well, curse it, Wryneck wrote the Treasurer ; And Hereford nosed it out, that much he did, Then sought my aid ; so Wryneck's man, being tracked, Lost fob, and something that he prized still more ; In brief (for I'm a man to do, not prate) In brief, his letter reached the Treasurer In due course, curse him ; and in like due course Letter and answer reached my Bishop's hands. Moordon [patronizingly]. Not bad ! — [cheering heard]. What's that ? 3rd Cons, [looking out of the window]. The Trea- surer ! How they cheer! Moordon. You should have heard them bay in Exeter. Gournay [derisively]. They bit too ! Though your prison Cerberus Gulped, curse, your sop (else, curse, you wouldn't be here) 64 Stapeldon : [ACT v. You couldn't charm the Devon-mastiffs' jaws ! A fool that Bishop was to rescue you. Moordon. That Bishop was a fool to rescue you From London's bull-dogs. Gournay [in a fury]. Curse, you Whelp, you Rat, In Windsor Park he, curse your putrid soul, If you hadn't turned tail 3rd Cons. Stop ! We've work to do. Gournay. Right, curse : We'll kill the King. yd Cons. We'll wait for orders. Moordon. That cheering showed us whom we ought to kill. 3rd Cons. He may prove dangerous; more probably He'll dance the back step t'wards his diocese ; I should I know, if my allies, like his, Had cut my claws and almost drawn my teeth. [Enter Wvi. Watdle, de Lucie, and another ; Moor- don conceals himself behind the other conspirators, and they talk in whispers.] de Lucie. ' London and Life,' say I. yd Loyalist. It may be soon ' London and Death.' Wm. Waulle. Meanwhile ' Life ! ' [calling] Wine, good host ! [wine brought.] de Lucie [to Wm. Waulle]. Hast seen the 'White Flower ' lately. Wm. Waulle. Ay, to-day. The Bishop rode to the Mayor's ; she greeted us ; SCENE I.] A Tragedy 65 Grave she was, yet within seemed fever-fires ; Her lucent eyes seem more translucent now, And name and hue now more than ever one. 3rd Loyalist, If they'd just put her up as prize, my lads, For tournament or fight, I'd try my luck ; Though doomed to wear, as many a suitor has, The Lady's under-robe in lieu of mail. de Lucie. Lovely she is ! By Heaven's own loveli- ness Eyes rest upon her awe-chained ; she is perfect ! Wm. Waulle. She's not for us though ; let us have a song. yd Loyalist. Roland's, or Richard's, or a ' Mixt betwixt ' Of Walter Mapcs, or [to de Lucie] else your own. de Lucie. So be it. [sings] En Monk ! Enter quantus venter! Quaeris quod his grace is ? Vinum vidit, labia fidit Into pleased grimaces. Chorus [all rise and join in]. State, sto ; cantitatc pro Rege, lege, populo ! Yoicks ! Hoicks! Tilly-vally, Ho ! [ad libitum.] Moordon [to Gournay]. Just twist the neck of that young Chanticleer. F 66 Stapeldon : [ACT V. Goumay. Ay, curse him, I've an old account with him. [coming forward insolently] I wish to say de Lucie [waving him aside]. Another verse, my Friend. [sings] Subit Miles ! That's your style ! Es [to Goumay] Martium Mars Ipse ? [to the others] Grande tumet, nos consumet ! Specially now he's tipsy [they start the Chorus]. Goumay [enraged]. Why King, law, people, not the Queen ? ' The Queen,' Or, curse me — I'll — [general clamour and confusion] de Lucie. Oh, you shall have the Queen ! [sings] Oyez ! — Audi ! Pulchras laudi De la Reine convortimur : Isabella, nee puella Nee pure, certe, suits her — Mortimer ! [Some start the Chorus, others shout, Moordon in the confusion extemporizes a disguise.] Goumay [shouting]. Treason ! He fouls the Queen ! Wm. Waulle [to Moordon]. We'll fight it out ; Three to three. Moordon. Let ' the barkers bite/ say I. SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 67 Wm. Waulle. Stand aside then. \Moordon retires apace, as do the others, de Lucie and Gournay face each other and f git t.] Cries of the onlookers. Well struck ! — Well guarded ! — Home ! [de Lucie is wounded.~\ 3rd Cons. Again ! [as de Lucie is again wounded.~\ Moordon. Hurrah ! [to Gournay] Go in and finish him. Wm. Waulle. Good stroke ! Hurrah ! [as Gournay is gas J ted on the sword-arm ] Gournay [throwing himself against the wall.] Curse, mercy, quarter, grace ; I yield me — curse — in Mercy's name — de Lucie [lowering his sword]. Go then ! Gournay slinks out with his companions ; de Lucie reels, and is supported by his Friends.] 3rd Loyalist. Speed for a leech. Wm. Waulle. My God, he's badly hurt. SCENE II. Interior of the Tower. King Edward in great distress and terror. The King. Mortimer! Mortimer! Dead Sea! Death's Sea ! 68 Stapeldon : [act v . Attendant [entering]. The Treasurer, your High- ness. [Enter Bp. Sta. ; exit Attendant?] The King. Oh, thank God, Thank God thou'rt come. Fleets vomited from Sea, The sea of death ; troops swarming up the beach, From Hainault, Holland, France, Bohemia ; Thousands, hordes, legions ; headed by the Queen, And mine own Edward, and by Kent ; [ivith sudden rage] False Friends Tear thee, false Brother, even as with thee Mortimer comes to tear my life away. Bishop, thy counsel was as Heaven's ; and I Was deaf and dazed ! Speak, in there yet a hope ? Bp. Sta. Yea, hope : God holds the issues ; we must act : Watville has troops ; should strike ; perhaps has struck. The King. I foresee — woe, woe — I forefeel it all — Heaven's flaming firebrand and the dearth and deaths (How long since was it? Yet what recks how long?) I knew it, know it, they foretold the King's Bale, murder ! All is lost, lost : let me die. No ! not die ! not yet ! Dost not thou fear death ? Or thinkest thou they will but kill thy King, And Spencer ? [Enter Attendant with a Messenger.] Messenger [throwing himself on his knees]. News from Essex ; woeful news ; The Country folk, the disaffected Lords, SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 69 The Bishops, Ely, Lincoln, Hereford, And Norfolk's Earl, and Leicester's Earl [the Bishop starts] are sucked Into the rebel whirlpool [the King is utterly over- whelmed] . Bp. Sta. Didst thou say The Earl of Leicester ? Messenger. Yea, my Lord ; they hailed His coming as the presence of Victory. [ The Bishop is about to speak again when the King waves the Messenger out.] The King. Would I had died when my poor Brothers died. ' Poor Brothers ! ' nay, most favoured, oh, most blessed : They lived not long enough to love earth's grace, And sickness loosed so gently their young lives ; But unto me, O Bishop, death to me Would be so terrible, so ghastly-grim. Bp. Sta. Word has gone forth to call more levies out ; They muster now. The King. Act, dally not, call forth The troops we have, let the new levies follow ; Did I not front, break, scraunch this Leicester's Brother? And, ah, those Traitor Bishops ! They shall cower, As cowered their kith before my Father's wrath ! And those half Frenchmen, yea in heart all French, 70 Stapeldon : [ACT V. Those two half-brothers of mine, are they as kings ? And he, that Orson aping Valentine, That savage from the wild Welsh marches, he Shall feel the King's hand's weight — that Mortimer ! [shudders'] Bp. Sta. \jnoving towards the door]. I speed to summon out the troops, to bid The levies follow, and to send swift scouts, With news of help, to Watville. The King [zvavering and stopping liim\ Thou wilt go? And be with me ? — But oh 'tis all too late ! Bp. Sta. For crown, for life's sake, for the Prince thy Son Imperilled in the hands of Mortimer, Act, rouse, call up thy Father's chivalry, The spirit of the race of Lionheart. The King. I cannot, will not, go. Bp Sta. {dejectedly]. With this undone. What can be done ? The King [in a panic]. I am not safe here ; where, Where can I flee ? North, South, and East are barred ; But West ? — Ay westwards I may flee ; — to Bristol. Bp.Sta. Trust Exeter; she won, she keeps, her name " Fidelis semper." The King. Larger, wealthier, Nearer, is Bristol ; I shall there find rest. Or if, if (God forefend !) they chase me thence, SCENE II.] A Tragedy. 71 The near Welsh hills or Ireland's coast shall give A sanctuary. Bp. Sta. May God's arm shield my King ! The King. They will pursue, o'ertake, seize, murder me, By gash of knife, or poison's spasm, or Fire! Oh with what agonies of fire they writhed And died, in France, the Temple's Knights! and here Their Torturer's Daughter comes, with heart like his! Bishop, I've borne flame's pangs ; in fever once Close-pent meseemed within a brazen vault Hot as a kiln, alone with gadflies, wasps, Wild-cats and adders ; and they buzzed, screamed, hissed, And stung and tore my flesh ; one mad wild-cat Whilst with its claws it ripped me, glared at me, With eyes that were the Queen's ! And fierce, more fierce, The heat grew ; till the walls blazed out ; and, then, They seemed to draw together, inch by inch ; Slowly they closed ; my torturers sank charred ; And still the solid fires drew in : they touched. They clipped me ; then brake, then like lightning- stabs Shot inwards through me. Oh, all anguish past Seemed but as torpor to the pangs that leapt, 72 Stapeldon : [act v. Plunged, raged, within me ! Now, e'en now, ah, God! I feel the fire, the ravening fire ! — Save, save me ! Bp. Sta. O my King, I would do, would suffer, aught, Could my weak mortal arm avail to save. The King. Let London's strength stand sheer before my foes. Bp. Sta. [pondering]. It should be held ; but who can hold it? The King. Thou : None, none, but thou ; not Spencer, Arundel, Nor any else ; I name thee Custos, [writes] hold it ! Bp. Sta. The Londoners half love, half hate my name. The King. Give me, none other can, give me thy King Some life-chance ; give one chance, one hope ! Save, save me ! As Friend, as Sovereign, I command, implore ; Yea, I adjure thee by thy loyalty Unto thy King on earth and King in Heaven ! Bp. Sta. My Lord, O King, the voice of thine appeal Is as God's fiat ; and I count my life Not as mine own, but God's fief, thine and God's ; And I will hold the City with my life. SCENE in ] A Tragedy. 73 SCENE III. The same room in the Tower. Bp. Sta. alone. Bp. Sta. Now then to ride and claim the city-keys. {Enter Joan Kaignes and Jier little Son.] Joan Kaignes. I sought you for I heard the King had fled. Bp. Sta. The King has willed to journey to the West ; And I am set as Custos for the King : And now your promise must be kept, dear Joan. Joan Kaignes. I must not leave you. Bp. Sta. Dearest, you know well How I shall miss you, in a thousand ways ; Yet now it must be, now the time is come ; The Queen has landed on the Essex coast, And here lurk traitors. Joan Kaignes. From our childhood's days, Walter, we clung together, thou and I : And ever year by year still more and more My love and loving pride have twined round thee ; And should I leave thee when thou needst me most ? Bp. Sta. Try me not, dear, so sorely. Joan Kaignes. Must I leave thee ? Slink from thee, like that King ? Bp. Sta. Hush ! Think and speak 74 Stapeldon : [ACT V. With reverence of thy King. Joan Kaignes. He marred thy plans, That would have saved his poor unmanly life ; And now he sets thee here for death ! Doth God Ask such a life as thine for such as His ? As his, whose kingly stature, port and mien Swallow up all his nature's kingliness. Bp. Sta. O Sister, thou hast grieved me to the heart Thus speaking of the King, thus urging me To rend the oath that binds me. Joan Kaignes. Hast thou sworn, Hast thou sworn thus to slay thyself? What God, There is no God, would register such word : {breaking into indignation] Ah, wherefore hast thou sworn ? What right had'st thou To bind thy soul thus, thus? — Art thou not ours ? Our own, our hope, our joy, our glorying ? [bursting into tears] Let me at least be with thee to the end. [pointing to Jier Son] He shall go down to Devon ; let me stay. John Kaignes. Oh, do not send me from you, Mother. Joan Kaignes. Peace ; You cannot understand this. John Kaignes. Uncle, please, Let mother stay, and let me stay with you. SCENE IV.] A Tragedy. 75 Bp. Sta. It must not be : the thought that your loved lives Rocked helplessly with every stroke I struck, Would maim my hands. Joan Kaignes. I dare not leave you. Bp. Sta. Sister, Thine own soul too is bound, as mine is bound. Joan Kaignes. Oh, spare me, Walter, Walter ! Bp. Sta. Nought can rend My promise, or thine own ; the doom is set, Whate'er it be ; and we must wait God's will ! Intrust thyself, intrust my fate, to God : Think of me, dearest, ever pray for me ; It may be we shall meet to give God thanks In the dear Devon home ; — or we shall meet With joy at last mid scenes yet lovelier. [Saying this lie leads her by the hand towards the door, and she goes Jorth with her little Son, both weeping bitterly^ SCENE IV. Street by North gate oj St. Paul's, with view of the Cathedral ; Citizens passing, buying and selling, standing and talking, &c. ; Enter a Pardoner riding :] Pardoner [in a squeaky voice]. Oh Yes ! Good people, all the merchandise 7& Stapeldon : [act v. In all your City's vastness cannot match' This little wallet's freight : look ! Here they are ! * Here they are [flourishing Indulgences}. All sorts ! Dirt-cheap, every one, That is of course considering value given. Our poor benighted foresires never saw, Heard of, or dreamed of, such rich blessings brought To every man's own door ! Here's meat for Fasts ! — Who that could feast would starve ? Voices from the crowd. Here, Hi ! — Hi ! Here ! [many buy.'] Far. Here's one for passing on some ticklish tale Imparted under vows of reticence. Dandy Cit. I'll buy that! [receives it and hands coin.] Par. Thanks, fair Sir [shakes indulgences over his head]. Here's every sort ! Whoso buys one of these may soothly say, ' I tower o'er other folk : no rank, wealth, prowess, Gives such pre-eminence ; in childlike trust I blot this precept out, or tear up that ; But let my neighbour, ay, or Baron or Earl, Presume to do the like (oh pitchforks, claws !) Old Hornie grabs him !' — 'Tis a rapturous thought. Lady. Rapt'rous ! — Good master Pardoner, let me tower O'er others thus ! A Licence, please, to wear SCENE iv.] A Tragedy. 77 My gauds at Church on Fast-days [holds ?tp money]. Par. [aside] Here's a pinch ! [aloud] Where is it ? [fumbles in his bag] Ah ! [shuts the bag] Wait just a minute ; I'll fetch it. Rides off hastily whilst shoutings and cheers and yells are heard Eastwards^] Cit. [entering]. Hoots and cheers greet the Custos. 2nd Cit. Custos ? Who ? 1st Cit. The Treasurer; he rode to claim the keys ; And 'tvvixt our chiefs and him speech shot like shafts ; They knew his troops were scant, so hugged the keys. Moordon [entering]. Sing 'Jubilate,' that they held 'em tight. Dandy Cit. I loathe such broils, they wreck all social cheer. Moordon. The Queen is marching on us now full- speed : [cries of alarm] And could that Treasurer clutch those keys, our town Would be a trap, and we the rats there caught, There pent, starved ! Arc the famine-years forgot? A famine yet more fell would herald in All horrors of a City stormed, fire, rape, Slaughter ! And would ye yield yourselves to this. yS Stapddon : [ACT V. To this ? For one who flees from you ? One who — You know full well what Hereford's Bishop says — One who has thrust aside your chosen chiefs, And flings you underneath the heel of him Who mocked our City's rights with alien Courts ! Fo rget n ot th at . [ Cries of the people. ] John Marshall [to Moordon\ You won't ; those memories Were branded into you too deep for that ! The Court wrought justice ; and [to the erowd] forget not this ; The Treasurer gave us Exeter Exchange. Moordon [to Marshall]. Out Parasite ! [Cheers and groans of the crowd.] Gournay. He's Spencer's, Baldock's, mate ! Curse. Cries of the people. Ay ! — No ! — Ay. Marshall. False ! False ! Moordon. Hark, how they talked (I heard them) Baldock and that Treasurer, thus ; ' We touched the Londoners up in rare style once ! Now for the sport again ; a twist or so Of that same thumbscrew (thumbscrew was the word) [wrathful cries] Would prompt those Midases, those Ass' ears, To let their gold streams flush our treasury-pool ! ' With this they passed on laughing brutally [furious yells]. SCENE V.] A Tragedy. 79 A Loyalist [to his neighbour"]. We'll vanish, Friend, the Queen's side kings it here. Moordon [pointing to Marshall]. Smite down that Hireling. [Marshall is attacked, struck down, and dragged azuay.] Cries of the Cit. — Down with King and Custos ! Our liberties ! Rights ! Moordon. Has it not of yore This our great City by its sole acclaim Set Kings o'er England ? Shall one Coward's voice 'Gainst London's will, to London's shame and scath, Enthrone her Ravager as London's Lord ? Cit. Down with the City's haters, King and Custos ! SCENE V. A room in the Tozuer, Bp. Sta. and William Waulle. Bp. Sta. To leave the City may be perilous ; But, foiled thus, I must have more troops ; those levies Should now be massed at Kingston ; fetch our steeds, And bring the shirt of mail I wore in France, 8o Stapeldon : [act v. It saved my life once : then we'll hear, good Coz, The hoof make music while the swift breeze sings [Exit Win. Waulle.~] Attendant [entering], A scout, my Lord, from Essex [enter a man mud splashed, exit Attendant]. Bp. Sta. Friend, what news ? Scout. The people swarmed, Lord Treasurer, to the Queen, Like bees to theirs ; Sir Robert knowing it, And without hope of reinforcements, faltered ; And spies from Leicester's Earl stole in and waked Mem'ries of Lancaster, his early patron ; Then the Queen flung her bait, a Barony ; And all his troops are Hers ! Bp. Sta. [after silent thought]. They march on London ? Scout. Yea, my Lord. Bp. Sta. Go and have refreshment ; later I'll hear from thee full details [exit Scout]. Watville then Is traitor as was Harcla ; as the hound That when let slip upon the quarry, turns, Springs at and tears his Master! Ah, my King-. Had but thine heart been as thy Father's heart ! — What fate awaits us now? — I thank God's love That those I love have passed from hence un- harmed : — Yet fain would I awhile have watched Lore's boughs SCENE v.] A Tragedy. 8 1 Grow strong, and multiply ; and that fair shoot I grafted in Oxford ; — will they let it live ? [Enter Attendant.] Attendant. A Lady who withholds her name, my Lord, But says your Lordship knows it and herself, Craves audience on the plea of urgent news. Bp. Sta. [pondering]. Action i9 urgent ; hindrance may be loss ; To lose her words may be loss yet more fatal : [to the Attendant] I'll see her. [Exit Attendant ; he returns with a Lady disguised, and retires.] Lady, I am pressed, o'erpressed, By thought and task , may I, with scanty preface Yet truest deference, say, I wait your word ? The Lady [vehemently]. Traitors are banded, sworn, to reave thy life ! But, lest thou doubt my truth [throws off her dis- guise] Bp. Sta. [agitated]. Thou, Lady! Thou Hast plunged to deadliest risk ! Blajichfleur. What recks the risk ? Didst not thou stake thy life for me, and save me From horror fathomless ? I can never pay That debt in full : — but hear me ; the Queen's gang Broke on my Father, clamoured, argued, raved, And at the last swinging their clubs and knives Menaced both him and his with instant death, G 82 Stapeldon : [ACT V. Unless he swore to serve the Queen, and swore To brand the King's friends as the City's foes : And he has sworn. Bp. Sta. Accept my heart's warm thanks ; I must haste forth and bring in troops. Blanch. Go not ; I pray, conjure thee ; or come back no more. Bp. Sta. Nay, I must hold my post. Blanch. Then keep the Tower ; I'll probe their plots, and send or bring thee word To-morrow. Bp. Sta. It may be too late to-morrow — I may be cooped, past power to help the King. Blanch. The King ! The Culver-heart ! He, thou- sands such, Were less ten thousand times than thy life is ! Draw to the Queen, she knows thy worth ; the Prince Loves thee ; and those who hate would welcome thee. Bp. Sta. Dost thou not feel I could not do this thing ? Blanch. Baldock has fled, Lord Spencer too has fled, Winchester's Bishop, yea and Arundel's Earl ; And they, whate'er they are, are not faint hearts ; But tarrying meant self-slaughter. Yesternight (And, oh, the vision's terror drave me here, SCENE V.] A Tragedy. 83 Else it had driven me mad) in trance I stood Within a street I knew, I've seen it oft ; And there, ah God, there lay upon the stones Thy body, headless ! And around it yelled Ruffians gore-splashed, and mocked it ; till there crept In through their midst a woman wan with fear, And flung a rag across it suddenly : They cursed at her, but let the rag remain. And one voice shouted, ' Get him under ground ;' Another howled, ' Two Churches cast him out ; He died accurst : ' and all there screamed, ' Accurst ! ' Then dragged the marred trunk forward, dug a hole, Down through a rubbish heap, and hurled it in. With stress of agony I sank as dead ; And when at last life's light slid glimmering back The Vision's glare flashed through it ; — 'tis no dream, No phantasy ! but truth ; Fate's will, Fate's truth, Unless thou turn ! {throwing herself on her knees.'] Turn ! 'Tis not yet too late. Would'st wreck thy kin ? Would'st break thy Sister's heart ? And — (yet what matters that ?) break mine? Bp. Sta. Thine ? Blanch. Death Puts forth his hands, earth's fashion, man's behests, Yea all the bands of maiden-terrors, snap, 84 Stapeldon : [ACT V. As cords in flame. Bp. Sta. Because life's bounds loom near, And near the spirit-world's realities, Would'st shake the soul's foundations ? Blanch. Doth thy soul Stir at my soul's touch ? Doth it answer mine ? Ah, then I fear not aught \ — Nay, nay, I fear Death now a thousand-fold ; blind, bitter Death, The Severer I Bow thy pride (is it not pride?) Summon the people, cry, * Long live the Queen,' And live thyself. Or if thou wilt not this, Speed to the home thou lovest, speed to Devon : Nay, there in Devon, Hate's hounds may track thee down ; Haste, flee beyond their quest ; the winged sea- steed Shall bear thee safe to some fair far-off land ; And I — I — (shall I not ?) will steal away Bp. Sta. [startled]. Ah ! Temptress ! Blanch. [in quick anger]. 'Temptress?' Dost thou brand me such ? [changing] Yea, fling me any name of vileness now ; I heed it not ; — not much, not very much, Now, while I yet am with thee. [Despairingly] But hereafter, When they have wrought their will accurst, and thou Art slain, and parted from me evermore, SCENE v.] A Tragedy. 85 Thy word, more deadly than the thrust of swords, Will stab my soul ; yea even unto death. And in the gulph of terror and despair, Amid the jeers of Fiends and anguished shrieks, While all the rearing heads of fiery waves Hiss ' Temptress, Temptress,' I shall hear that voice Once dearest to me, once most musical Of all earth's music, hear it as it flung Its last fanged ruining utterance. Bp. Sta. Forgive! Forgive me ! I renounce the word, recall, Abjure, abhor it : thou hast hazarded life For my life ; thou didst come to save ! Blanch. Kind words, Sweet gracious words, they lift my soul t'wards hope ! {with a gasp] Hope ? Yet what hope ? Earth holds none — Ere I spake Hope seemed to be : — But while I spake, it died. And, dead at heart, within some convent cell, As in the grave's hold, I will crouch, and wait The body's death. Nay, nay — Thy words were kind, Were sweet blest words, I will not dumbly cower : But pray and plead and wrestle for the hope Of Heaven ; to be near Thee ! Up. Sla. Pangs worse than death 86 Stapeldon : [act v. Break from my spirit ; clasp Heaven's hope ! 'tis thine. In God's own name I, Priest of God, affirm, Thou at the last shalt win Heaven. Blanch. I believe : Yea, though despairing, grapple with the hope. And thou thyself in Heaven wilt welcome me? Wilt thou not? There in Heaven, where never man Or Fiend can bind, or sunder, evermore ? — But here man's wrath, Fiends' wrath, has mas- tery ; It leaps on thee ! Escape them, baffle them ! What can I do, or plead ? — Turn even yet — Oh I am mad — yea, all, I know, is vain — I know thou wilt not turn [snatches up Jicr disguise]. Farewell [throws it on] till death, Till Heaven. Yet, once, now, 'neath the severing stroke I cannot quench the cry, Farewell, ' Beloved !' [She passes swiftly out ere the Bishop can stir or speak. ,] Bp. Sta. She loves me — weird it seems — how darkly weird Is human love ! With all the strength of love She strove to wreck my soul : no love but Thine, Lord God, is scatheless [kneels]. Fold us in that love ; Compass with blessing all the souls of men ; scene vi.] A Tragedy. Sy And past man's utmost thought of blessing bless My Sister, all our dear ones ; and — Blanchfleur. SCENE VI. Exeter House in flames ; the mob plundering and shouting ; Bp. Sta. rides in with Wm. Waulle, John Padyngton, and a few others. Bp. Sta. How now, are these your pastimes, Citizens ? Are these the rights ye claim ? Is this the wage Wherewith ye pay good service ? [to Wm. Wau//e] Drive them off. [ Wm. Waulle and the others scatter the mob and drive it bach.] [looking at the flames'] Much that I prized is here lost past recall. [to Wm. Waulle after he had ridden back]. We looked for supper, Will ; there's fire enough ! But no meat Wm. Waidlc. John and I are ravenous ; And both of us have eaten since your Lordship. John Pad. Dear Master, you must be nigh faint. The Mob [gathering again and surging back]. The Queen ! 88 Stapeldon : [act v. Our Rights ! Oueen ! Wm. Waulle. Had those Kingston levies not fled, At rumours of the King's flight A Loyalist [galloping up to the Bp.]. Turn, my Lord !— The mob have rent John Marshall limb from limb. Bp. Sta. No choice is left me ; if I reach the Tower London may be again won ; or at worst The King's pursuers held in check. Sliouts of the Mob's Leaders. Close up, Form into ranks. Bp. Sta. Quick we must cleave a path — [Throwing up his hand] Stop — look — a woman caught within the crush ! Loyalist. The rabble thickens momently ; to pause Is Bp. Sta. [sternly.] Silence — if we charge we trample her : See her affrighted strugglings. Cries of the Mob. Down with him ! London's Insulter ! Pest ! Yah ! Court of Eyre ! Away with him. Bp. Sta. [watching eagerly]. She'll free herself. Cries of the Mob and their Leaders. Queen ! Prince ! No Custos here ! No Coward's Deputy ! SCENE vil.] A Tragedy. 89 Death, Traitor, Traitor, death ! Bp. Sta. She's through ; she's safe. The blessing of the Blessed be with us, For life or death ! keep well together, Friends ; Now full upon them, and at full speed ; charge ! [They break through the mob, which pursues tJiem with yells of rage i\ SCENE VIL A Room in an Inn at Reading, Joan Kaignes and lier Son and Blanchfleur. Joan Kaignes. We travel on through gloom, and at the end Comes pain of parting ; you have been to me A solace, dearest ; but it seems so strange This wish found harbourage in your heart ; strange too You won your Father's sanction for your wish : For he will miss you sadly ; and I fear, Though Polsloe's Nuns will give you loving wel- come, You scarce are fitted for the Convent life. John Kaignes. No, you won't like it ; no, I'm sure you won't. 90 Stapeldon : [ACT v„ And then they'll never let me see you there ; And then you promised me, you know you did, To be my Lady-love. [Blanchfleur "s eyes fill with tears.'] Joan Kaignes. You're vexing Blanch. John Kaignes. You're angry, Blanchy ? Blanch. No, not angry, dear ; But very sad. John Kaignes. Don't, don't cry ; let me kiss you. [She hisses him. Enter Sir Richard Stapeldon.'] Sir Rich. Sta. My men are all but ready to start afresh ; Tis well we met, else, for they seemed to need it, They would have had more rest ; your news cries, ' Mount, Spur, flee to him.' Joan Kaignes. Fear tears my soul. Sir Rich. Sta. Remember How last year's fear gave joy more joyousness. Joan Kaignes. Our hearts' song then was, ' Walter safe, safe home ! ' And here, at home, ah God, he's girt with death. John Kaignes. Mother, I wish we could have stayed with him. ■ Blanch, [hissing him passionately] . You love ! My love ! Joan Kaignes [to Sir Rich.]. Say can he hold, speak sooth, His peril's post until you reach his side? SCENE VII.] A Trageay. 91 Sir Rid id. St a. I fan yean. Joan Kaignes. Dost recollect the lures, Our Queen's, in France, the bribes wherewith she strove To make him hers ; the next Archbishoprick, The Legateship, the Cardinal's red hat, And, at the last, if England's influence Fraught with the weight of France could compass it, (And France has single-handed set up Popes) At last the threefold crown of crowns, to flash On English brows once more : the strength, the gifts Of that Fourth Adrian all are his in full, Yet without arrogance ! Richard, must he die ? [A cliaunt suddenly rings forth, .] When from out the Veil God's Will Leaps in light, obey, fulfil ; Leave to God the issues meet, Life, death, triumph, or defeat ; Death may save ; and Life may kill. \the chaunt dies away.] Joan Kaignes. It startled me ; are those words ominous ? Sir Richd. Sta. Of evil or of good ? — The monks are passing ; And they will march back ; be not startled then. First there's a missive that must needs have wing, 92 Stapeldon : [ACT V. Then wings for me {prepares to write\ Joan Kaignes [to Blanch.\ He'll make more speed alone ; Come, dear. [To Sir Richd.} haste, haste! [Exeunt Joan Kaignes and her Son and Blanch. ; Sir Rickd. writes hastily. Enter Attendant.} Attendant. A rider, travel-spent, And weak from recent illness, so we judge, Sir Richard, craves immediate speech with you. Sir Richd. Sta. From London ? Attendant. Yes, Sir Richard. Sir Richd. Sta. Bring him at once. [Exit Attendant and re-enters with de Lucie, who is ill and almost broken down. Exit Attendant.} Geoffrey ! And worn and ill de Lucie [in gasps']. A little faint ; A moment faint [sinks into a seat]. Sir Richd. Sta. They told me of your hurts ; The journey's stress has overwrought your strength ; Rest then awhile. de Lucie [starting]. I must — if strength hold — tell My tidings. Sir Richd. Sta. [hastening for some wine and handing it]. Drink this ; if you then have power, Speak them. [He drinks, and though at first his voice comes feebly, SCENE VII.] A Tragedy. 93 it gradually grows strong from excitement of feel- ing^ de Lucie. The King fled ; — all his Court — and all His Council fled ; — except our Bishop : — He Had been named London's Custos ; — and of right He claimed the City keys ; the City's chiefs Were chafed ; and wrought against him ; treasonous scrolls Were nailed up, even upon the Mayor's own doors ; ' And spies swarmed, buzzed, and stung the people mad. And rumours darted that the royal troops Had been o'ermastered, or had joined the Queen. All day the streets had hummed ; at eve they howled ; I could not rest within ; [foan Kaignes enters with- out his knowing it, and hearing his words stands silent] but crawled forth : westward Heaven throbbed a-glare with more than sunset light ; And wild tongues screamed, ' The Bishop's house is fired ! ' foan Kaignes. Oh ! — Was He there ? [de Lucie turns and seeing her, rises and salutes her sadly and is silent]. Why do you close your lips ? Speak, quick — de Lucie. I know not ; but [Enter Blanch, with fohn Kaignes, but neither speaks.] 94 Stapeldon : [ACT V. Joan Kaignes. Pause not. de Lucie. Ere long Yells rose, and swelled, and swept near ; ' Down with him, Ere he can reach the Tower ! ' and, close pursued, The Bishop dashed past ; but his horse seemed wounded : Yet now he neared the North gate of St. Paul's ; Just at the spot a noted mendicant Had made his lair ; a man with withered feet But with a Giant's strength of upper limbs ; And then, I saw not how it was but saw The cripple clinging to the horse's legs, Whilst fixed against the ground aslant his crutch, With iron point upwards, gored the charger's chest ; And while it plunged and reeled, the Devil's pack Sprang on the Rider. Joan Kaignes. Was there none, not one, To help him ? de Lucie. None — none there — I could not reach, Or strike one blow for him : they tore him down, They stamped and smote ; but, of their leaders, two, At Moordon's prompting, rived the mass, and awed The smiters. Blanch. Moordon, I forgive thee all. de Lucie. Then was he led, with Will and Padyng- ton, SCENE VII.] A Tragedy. 95 (For they too had been smitten to earth and seized) In slow grim march t'vvard Chepe ; there came a halt ; A horse-block shadowed by a tree stood near, I clutched the trunk and clambered up, and looked, While from the crush a voice cried, ' Leicester's Earl Bade harm him not.' Joan Kaignes. God's love requite that man, And Leicester's Earl. de Lucie. But Moordon's hiss came, ' Leicester ? What's he to us ? We serve the Queen ; we know Her will, her word ! ' and saying this he turned, And spat upon the Bishop. Blanch. Heaven's wrath-scourge Tear Moordon body and soul. de Lucie. Then as I looked Poor Will, I saw, was fighting furiously, Ah, hopelessly, for life ; they stabbed and hacked His soul out ; and a sudden wild sword-sweep, That all but slashed the nearest bystander, Smote Padyngton ; and cleft his neck in twain : The old man's eyes were on his master's face, And so he knew not of the coming stroke, Perchance scarce felt it. Ruffian hands meanwhile Had wrenched the Bishop's armour off Joan Kaignes. Those troops, There burrowing in the Tower, would they not stir ? g6 Stapddon : [act v. de Lucie. They charged once, but reeled back. Sir Richd. Sta. Ah, recreants ! de Lucie. And round him whirled shrieks, ' Tramp- ler of our rights, Pest, Traitor ! Death ! The Queen, and Mortimer ! And Holy Church ! ' And with a herald's voice Gournay cried, ' Hear ye, hear ! Our good Archbishop Has cursed him ; he is Excommunicate I Accurst ! Accurst ! ' I saw the Bishop shrink ; A spasm of pain surged through him blent with scorn : And then, 'twas as a flash, his face was changed ; He seemed no more to see the ring of foes, He seemed to hear no more the cries for blood, He seemed to hear far off a voice that blessed ! And he was Bishop Martyr wholly now : Yea and methought an impulse came to him To lift his hand in blessing or in prayer ; But one arm clung tight-pinioned to his side, And one I think was broken [a cry from Blanch.]. And the while The rabble's yell grew more maniacal, More brutelike still ; and human talons reached, And gripped on him ; and snatched him downwards, down Below my vision : and at once upleapt A broad axe-head, and caught a flake of light, And flung it out, far ; — even as I knew SCENE vii.] A Tragedy. 97 'Twould in a moment fling his spirit forth [sinks into a seat]. Joan Kaignes. Have mercy, Lord. BlancJt. Dread God, hast Thou no pity ? [ The chaunt of the Monks rings otit as they march back in procession.] Verse of Hymn. When the Doomday's clarions peal, When the life-flushed myriads kneel Still as death before the throne ; Then the Judge shall call His own, And with glory crown the Leal ! Iprlntcb by 3amcs parfecr ant> Co., Crown L'aro, QrforI>. II Bg tije same &utfjor. GONIAL 35. 6d. net. Of ^Eonial The Literary World said, " The whole is treated with great poetical and dramatic ability ... a peculiarity of the Poem is the method of rhyme adopted ; the lines rhyme at wholly uncertain intervals ; . . . we are inclined to think that the system — or want of system — adopted has distinct advantages when the ear becomes ac- customed to it. We can freely recommend .Eonial as the work of one who is likely to take a high place among contemporary Poets." The Devon and Exeter Daily Gazette: — "The Author brings all those forces to bear that include the picturesque, the beautiful, the sympathetic, the sublime, the weird, and the terrible. . . . Speaking generally, it may be said that it is a grand conception masterly carried out." The North Devon Journal : — "The Miltonic strength and grasp discoverable in the Poem is its most striking characteristic. ... It is a highly original Dramatic work, in which strength and sweetness are allied." The North Devon Herald : — "/Eonial is a work of considerable poetical and dramatic power. ... It displays genius, originality and force." UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. U C SOUTHERN REGIOMAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 371 926 ■w?