And Uter then grew bold to slay the earl,
Conspired to kill, like David of the Jews,33
In this alone resembling royalty.
That he did condescend to count the countess
Queen doth shade34 this Arthur no more king
Than dressing meat blown35 full with clouds of flies
Give th’relish to’t fit for royal feast.
Thus Uter was o’erthrown by Saxon arms
For God would straight again the fracted36 line:
He grants each king his line, each line its king.
If Arthur reigns, we violate God’s law.
Wouldst thou condemn each Scot and Pict to hell?
Dead Uter’s sister Anne, your queen, my dam,
Does give to you, O Father, from the grave,
This lawful seat and pleads you make your claim.
CONRANUS
But soft! Dead Uter was your uncle twice.
My Queen of Scotland mourns a brother’s death.
Too cruel to her your threats to snatch his crown
And rain down death upon her brother’s boy.
MORDRED
What speaks my aunt in this?37 Whence voice has
she?
Or you, enfeoffèd38 uncle, vassal liege
To Loth my father. Scots are sworn to Picts:
Conranus king is king by king of Pictland,
Though he wait silent by with Pictish grace.—
[To Loth] My father, stand and bellow that your voice
Ungently shout down London’s stolen walls
Until soft Arthur cap his beaten ears,
And yield to God and you his purse-picked crown.
LOTH
[Low mumbles] An if our call’s not heard?
MORDRED
Speak out, speak out.
I hear but coughing.
LOTH
If our call’s not heard?
MORDRED
Then let them hear the sounds of righteous war
’Til English ears do note your martial voice.
LOTH
Too forward39 is this talk of making war.
MORDRED
Then if you would forslow ’til lusty strength
Returns again in you, our guile will serve:
Send embassage to England with our cause,
And privy40 order to the Saxon camp:
Clandestinely we’ll spur them to our use
And prompt them to press south without delay,
Then we, false-troubled41 of the English need,
May have occasion t’offer them our aid
If they but42 plant the crown where God would have’t.
When you, new British king, from London rules,
Then we and our new English vassalage43
As one expel the Saxon from our shores.
CONRANUS
My brother-king, dare scorn my peace-soft heart,
Or say old men do always fly from toil.
But I did fight beside you at Iona.
My smoking44 blade did cleave Norwegian skulls.
Take heed of word from lover45 such as this:
Hot war, so fleetingly combusted up,
Doth hardly46 snuff itself back down again.
And look! Our arms have built for us high walls!
Sit circummured47 behind the winding Tweed,
Our uplands48 scoff at foemen’s bow and ax.
Say, Loth, what matter is that lack-brain prince
Who weens49 to term himself all Britain’s king?
MORDRED
What peace has man e’er joyed but paid in blood?
What dream wouldst thou my father dream abed,
Whilst puppy50 Arthur, king of laystalls,51 hopes
To trim aside two-thirds my promised birth?
LOTH
No more. I have no appetite to war.
Send embassy and vouch that Arthur’s king.
MORDRED
But not of Britain.
LOTH
England then, your will.
MORDRED
I will discharge it to your terms precise.
LOTH
Duke Mordred, heir, be satisfied.
MORDRED
I am.
Full correspondence to my lord’s desires
Is satisfaction to your loving son.
LOTH
Embrace me then your uncle-king of Scotland.
MORDRED
With fullest heart.
CONRANUS
It glads me.
[They embrace] Loth swoons
MORDRED
Physic,52 wine!
A cup, a drench53 of wine! [To Loth] How do you, sir?—
[To servant] You! See him to his chamber, I’ll anon.
Exeunt [but Mordred and Calvan]
Dear Calvan, brother, bearer of my trust.
Two embassies will we dispatch. First, you.
CALVAN
How frame54 my tongue?
MORDRED
To words of amity.
Ride to the Saxon force at York. Their chief,
Flame-bearded Colgerne, takes your embassy.
In York he swills and vows and kicks his dogs,
And burns up offal to his red-eyed gods—
The carrion fumes offending Christian sense55—
And seizes not his vantage. Whet him on.
In Mordred’s name give gold that he from York
Drive out to waste all ’round with Saxon blade.
But, brother, still our hands must clasp in darkness.
Teach Colgerne that our love blooms best in shade.
CALVAN
Such toadstool56 love I’ll passioning derive.57
Exit Calvan
Enter messenger
MORDRED
What messenger is there?
ALEXANDER
My lord.
MORDRED
Thy name?
ALEXANDER
’Tis Alexander, Duke. I come from Wick.
MORDRED
Great Alexander boasts a comely face.
Thou hast an air of gentle-seeming manners.
ALEXANDER
It please your grace, my mother taught me well.
MORDRED
Then come. We must needs teach thee new to speak
In terms of harsh defiance and contempt.
Exeunt
[ACT I,] SCENE IV1
[Location: The Tower of London]
Enter Gloucester, Bishop of Caerleon, Somerset, Norfolk, Cumbria, Kent, Derby
KENT
How? Are you then protector of the realm?
GLOUCESTER
With patience, lords, but for a single day.
The morrow when, at your hand, Caerleon,
Prince Arthur is in London’s abbey blest,
He will from flexure2 rise your perfect3 king,
And will no more require protector’s aid.
Today I rate4 the puissance5 of our arms,
For after morrow hie we back to war.
Prince Arthur wants the numbers, man and beast,
To make account of all your mighty ranks.
How stand your noble lance and common pike?
SOMERSET
But soft, Lord Gloucester waits upon our haste,
Foresees6 we will obey with no complaint.
Yet English barons joy long-customed rights
And freely choose ere kneel to any king,
Though he be Uter’s son or no.
GLOUCESTER
Or no?
NORFOLK
To be black Uter’s son makes not an heir.
By such a stamp7 ten thousand British kings
Do dance a-maypole, yoke the ox to coulter,8
Or skink9 the wine at table for my thirst,
Though none so like their sire as Arthur be,
Who with his mawks on beef and ling10 doth dine,
Who’d ’change all England for St. George’s field.11
&nb
sp; SOMERSET
He’s born on George’s day, so ’tis like home.12,13
GLOUCESTER
Ignoble, rude and slanderous babble, lords
Ill suits the love that’s due your sovereign prince.
NORFOLK
Come morrow, Gloucester, what names you the king?
GLOUCESTER
The king will have me England’s seneschal.
SOMERSET
You’ll hold the keys to all the postern gates14
Until the midnight king doth steal the guard.
GLOUCESTER
These hare-brained comments will find quittance, Dukes.
CUMBRIA
But who makes doubt of Arthur’s godly right?
These arms embraced King Uter as he died,
A man twice me, twice thee, twice any lord.
Beneath the walls of York he cried to me,
“Prince Arthur now will be your lawful king.”
KENT
O, tender-feeling Cumbria, ’tis well,
But you have not seen Arthur sith his youth
When that boy sprouted no more manly beard
Than trims a raspberry15 in August heat.
SOMERSET
And sith his beard has grown, you’ll find no man
Hath seen the prince’s thumbs.16
KENT
So long as that?17
SOMERSET
Renowned like to a serpent or a tailor’s.18
GLOUCESTER
What ancient barons’ rights are these t’abuse?
NORFOLK
These ten and seven summers hath the prince
In Gloucestershire reclined, whence rumor tells
That Arthur’s luxury-amazed,19 but king
Of milking maids, and each new queen he leads
By kecksie flourish20 to a clover bed.
No continence21 hath he and none dare bar
The boy from exercising his mad lusts.
SOMERSET
The father’s passions storm within the son!
Will abbey words becalm the prince’s rage,
The ire descried22 by those who should speak love,
That Arthur soars to fury when but touched,
Doth strike a man of noble birth for spite,
And spends his words of love upon a cook?
GLOUCESTER
Thus tales lead beasts, and heads too willing follow23
The boy is stern for war. Come tilt with him.
First pass he’ll lay you on your plated back
Like to a flea within a walnut-shell.
He’ll lift great sword and drop it on your pate24
With edge or flat or fig-ball pommel: choose.25
In York will he course fast as rolling floods,
As swift as you in thought may cross the globe.
KENT
Like to his father then he longs for war?
The father’s war did steal the father’s life.
The father’s son would match the father’s feat
And on his feet march all of us to death,
So son might set, like father, in the north.26
Forever war, forever war, and on.
Yet Saxons find war-stubbled York a prize
And would content themselves in its embrace.
This land’s o’er-marched, o’er-bled, o’er-wearied o’war,
Yet still Prince Arthur comes to wield a sword!
CUMBRIA
What danger cowards so the southern Kent
While Cumbria is gripped from north and east?
KENT
I am not wished to hear thy slanders, cur!
CUMBRIA
Nor Saxons wished to peace by Kent’s desires!
CAERLEON
Enough vain heat! My lords of England, peace!27
Enter Alexander
GLOUCESTER
What word hast thou, sirrah?28
ALEXANDER
No king is here.
GLOUCESTER
He comes anon. Again: what word? Make haste.
ALEXANDER
My master bids me say: “No king is here.”
NORFOLK
What master, fool?
ALEXANDER
Which is the lord protector?
GLOUCESTER
Thou clog’st29 him, stamm’ring chough.30
ALEXANDER
He greets you thus:
“Vice-regent for unrightful, sneaking prince.”
GLOUCESTER
What master lays such words upon thy tongue?
ALEXANDER
Grant leave, ye English nobles, I my words
May unconstrained display, as charged by Loth,
Great Pictish king, and Mordred, Duke of Rothesay.
GLOUCESTER
Thou tarried long for license, messenger,
By now is absolution pertinent.31
Yet doubt32 no moody welcome here. Proceed.