Didst bite at him as would a bear and now
Dost whine what thou hast learnt of his sharp claws.
Speak troth, thou wert impatient of God’s will.
An God did wish thee sat on London’s throne,
He would not send thee home with thanesmen’s dooms.
MORDRED
At Lincoln, King, I fought beside your son.
CONRANUS
Speak thou no more a word. He follows not?
Waits not upon thee nor presents to me?
MORDRED
Brave Hebrides gave battle like to none.
On horse and foot—
CONRANUS
No more. I want no more.
MORDRED
But Scotland! King! We must record his deeds!
You weep that yet must gaze upon his valor!
CONRANUS
Show mercy on my soul and heed my plea.
MORDRED
Art thou a man? But ope thy frighted ear
That I may teach thy tongue some noble words.
For God, who makes us labor for our cause,
Doth bid us praise each death as sacrifice,
Necessity, the proving of our right.
He wants not that we mourn His project’s cost,
But celebrate all blood that lifts us on.
[Enter Loth, carried, with attendants and Doctor]
Make red thy lily heart; my father’s come—
[To Loth] My king, you must prepare yourself at once.
But briefly: Calvan would that we should come
To London’s tower, thence to bring him home
In change for some few scarcely valued words
That Arthur would have spoke at him.6
The hour of our strength will spring again,
We’ll seize anew the vantage in the strife.
DOCTOR
Your father’s apoplexy, Prince, forbids
His travel e’en from here to castle gate.
[Loth makes a sound or gesture]
MORDRED
What? Would he speak? Explain these signs to me.
Or would he have me nearer to his ear?
DOCTOR
His speech is off and on confused, and I
Cannot, I fear, know always his intent.
Enter first messenger
CONRANUS
Make haste.
FIRST MSG.
The Saxons did forswear their bail,
Set down again and now lay siege to Bath.
MORDRED
At Colgerne’s word?
FIRST MSG.
It was.
MORDRED
On him the stain.
Yet should he bloody the usurper’s nose,
It does become the voice of God’s reply
To Arthur’s unconfinèd blasphemy.
Yet still we’ll pay for Calvan with our words.
Enter messenger with bag
The tidings like the tide do press and press
Against our bonny shore. What jocund word?
The bastard’s killed? Or Saxons fled to sea?
This battle cannot end but well for me,
With one or other of my foes defeat.
Thou, sirrah, canst not fail but please, so speak.
SECOND MSG.
I bear no happy words and beg your grace.
I dare not speak.
MORDRED
You choose to speak or die.
SECOND MSG.
I speak and die, or do in silence die.
MORDRED
’Tis thus we all do live, my boy. Now speak.
SECOND MSG.
The Saxon treachery told to the king—
MORDRED
What king?
SECOND MSG.
King Arthur, lord.
MORDRED
Say not “the king”
As he is none, or is but for a day.
Say rather “bastard” or “usurping swine.”
SECOND MSG.
The Saxon treachery told to the swine,
He put to death all ransom-waiting men.
MORDRED
Say rather “ransom-waiting Saxon men”
As Saxony forswore itself, not we.
SECOND MSG.
But this in truth I cannot say, my lord.
He gave command for every ransomed man
And in unholy anger he did slay
One man himself.
MORDRED
’Twere better thou held tongue.
CONRANUS
Nay, nay, speak on, go on.
SECOND MSG.
To honor rank
He offered Calvan sword and liberty
If he could singly7 vanquish him.
MORDRED
No more.
SECOND MSG.
Enragèd passion seized King Arthur’s limbs.
MORDRED
No more, I say! No more, no more, no more!
SECOND MSG.
He smote your brother down and raught8 his locks
And by those hairs he drew his head hard back.
On Arthur’s face there shone a demon’s hate.
He sends to you the head and broken sword
Within this bag and bids me tell—
MORDRED
No more!
[Mordred] kills messenger
SECOND MSG.
I curse thee, villain prince, and all thy seed!9
CONRANUS
How, nephew? Now thy site’s10 thine own, no word?
Thy heart that spoke bravado now is cold.
So whither appetite for chronicle?
MORDRED
Thou wouldst come o’er me with my right rebuke.11
Then hear what manly speech I have for thee
And bastard pup who wet his casual thirst
With purest blood.12
He opens bag
O Calvan, brother, prince! O murdered boy!
DOCTOR
But soft. These words do close your father’s throat.
This rattle sure is death’s unjointed13 talk.
MORDRED
Nay, sire! Can Arthur, malt-horse,14 paper king
Still reign while breath itself rebels your will?
But softly, King, my father’s only son
Doth beg you not to yield t’imperious death.
I cannot lose my father now.15
You would yet speak? I bend to you my ear.
[He leans close to Loth]
Again, again. I swear it, father, aye.
All shall be done to your precise command.—
[To servants] You, bear him to his chapel, there to shrive
His soul and read the verses due to him.
[Exeunt except Mordred and Conranus]
CONRANUS
Such chatt’ring! How the dying king did buzz!
MORDRED
But sure the company imbibed each word?
CONRANUS
We heard from him no sound: thy table’s16 clean.
MORDRED
He urged me on to lose no days in tears,
But clad in gimmaled17 mail and glimm’ring crown,
Receive thy oath of fealty now and more:
Assigned me Scotland’s heir and with thy death
Unite two kingdoms as God’s certain will.
And when our strength’s restored, fill Arthur’s tomb.
CONRANUS
All this the wheezing king did set in charge?
MORDRED
All this and more, perchance.
CONRANUS
Loquacity18
In dying men is rare, though not unknown.
And of my death spoke he as urgently?
MORDRED
A natural death, years hence. But his is nigh,
So let us lend a comfort at his side.
Exeunt
ACT III, SCENE I
[Location: The court in London]
Enter Gloucester and French Ambassador, attendants
/> FRENCH AMB.
Mon duc de Gloosestayre,1 my king à vous
Envoys his royal love and hail Arthur.2
GLOUCESTER
We thank you and your great King Childebert
Who hath to France brought peace and gentle ways.
FRENCH AMB.
But your Arthur has in small years defeat
The Saxons cross the German Ocean’s3 waves.
Rebels4 who fought do now cry up to God,
“We are subdued! Who take our side? Hélas!”
Arthur will now make for his kingdom laws
And art and prosperous virtues, you say.
But still revolters5 come as always do,
And also more of savages who no
Do love Lord Jesu but false cloven gods.
I am much sad in heart to make these words
But King Arthur has not alone the means,
The arms and treasure, he require for all
He wish. He must have loving friends beside.
GLOUCESTER
My lord, we are quite perfectly agreed.
FRENCH AMB.
And France can be to such this loving friend!
My king would now make friendship’s girdle6 fast
About the waist of him and of Arthur,
Together joined will both be more of men.
Also, the king has maked a daughter-child
To give and place her on your king as queen,
So make Arthur the heir to Childebert!
I bring this portrait covered7 of the lady,
Arthur may look on it and fall in love.
And here, she writing letters to your king,
He gives letters
In which she make expressures most sincere.
GLOUCESTER
Which he will read with all attentive speed.
Good sir, I will return to you anon,
But beg you sit awhile in the hall.
FRENCH AMB.
Merci, bon duc. I think we make good match.
GLOUCESTER
Were’t ours alone to make, I know we would.
Exit Ambassador
Were all good counsel heeded by our lords
All kingdoms of the world would prosper well.—
Enter Arthur
Your Majesty, I beg, again, a word.
ARTHUR
O, Gloucester! Now doth Cupid lurk in shade?
No more of Florentine grand duchesses,
Venetian doge’s8 girls and Spain’s infanta.
My lord, I would have no more cavilling,9
But ask a respite from this marriage chat,
A week, a day, to feast our victories,
And then thou mayst molest me with this prate.10
GLOUCESTER
You were thrice blest at Lincoln, York, and Bath.
My king, a marriage now will fasten peace.
Your hopes for Britain’s weal11 demand great sums.
The king of France would have you be his heir!
ARTHUR
How seemeth she to thee, the French princesse?
GLOUCESTER
There’s but the envoy’s word and painted cloth,
Still covered o’er ’til you consent to look.
But sure she is not loathsome.
ARTHUR
Mend my soul!12
With praise as this, one need not fear of scorn.
GLOUCESTER
Her disposition she reveals in this.
Gives letter
ARTHUR
I want it not. You know I speak no French.
GLOUCESTER
Nor Spanish nor Italian, King. I know.
With exercise your tongue can learn the trick.
You need but muster out the words “I wed.”
ARTHUR
If they do love me so, they could learn English.
Are there no foreign princesses who can?
GLOUCESTER
My king, I beg of you, a list’ning mood.
A happy kingdom wants a steady hand
To steer through white-topped billows, storms, and fear,
When curdled sea with oily fingers threats
To fist the groaning crew from greasy deck.
ARTHUR
Less peroration,13 Gloucester. Hit the mark.
GLOUCESTER
The royal sceptre must be straightly held
And not with ev’ry wind rock left and right.
ARTHUR
Too much synecdoche for this crowned head.14
GLOUCESTER
Too hot, my king, your fancies and vexations.
For those who sway the rule must needs be led
By cooler humors, not by passions’ pricks.
In marriage men are spared from wilder lusts:
Their anger melts away, they find them calm.
ARTHUR
You paint a dreaded scene, you god of love.
An if the lady find me not her taste?
GLOUCESTER