Part 5
_Alfred._ Thanks for your goodness, kind host. Indeed, I am hungry.
_Switha._ You eat like a hungry wolf.
_Alfred._ And now I am hungry no longer. I thank you both for a good supper, and I hope you will never be sorry you have given charity to a stranger. Now, Cudred, I shall be glad to sleep.
_Cudred._ This way, then, to the bed of straw. Now, tell me truly, art thou not some mighty earl in disguise?
_Alfred._ I am Alfred, thy king--I know from thy goodness to me when thou thoughtest me a beggar that thou art a good man, therefore I confide in thee. I know thou wilt not betray thy king.
_Cudred._ Not all the gold of Denmark should tempt me to commit so base a crime, but we must not let Switha know who thou art, my royal master.
_Alfred._ I shall be careful. Soon, I hope, my friends will bring me word that my army awaits me, when I shall again try to set my country free.
SCENE IV.--_In the Peasant's Hut_
KING ALFRED, SWITHA
_King Alfred._ It rains so hard to-day that I cannot hunt, so will mend my bow and make some new arrows. May I sit by your fire, good dame Switha?
_Switha._ Yes, and as I have made a good batch of cakes you might watch them bake.
_Alfred._ Gladly will I watch them. Show me what I must do.
_Switha._ Turn them often before the fire, thus, so that they will not burn. Now I will go for more wood for the fire.
_Alfred._ How long, I wonder, must I remain in hiding. It is very hard to wait. If only I knew how my people were faring. Will the time never come when I can rule over England and unite my people? So many plans have I for their happiness and progress. Schools we must have. The Bible must be translated for the people to read. Roads must be built and the country made safe for all. How long must I sit in Cudred's cottage mending arrows when my heart wishes to help my suffering people!
_Switha_ (_running in_). I thought I smelled them burning! Oh, thou lazy, useless fellow! Thou art ready enough to eat the cakes, but too lazy to keep them from burning. No wonder thou hast no home, idle as thou art.
_Alfred._ I pray thee, good dame, forgive me. I was lost in thought of happier days and forgot my duty. Really I am sorry.
_Switha._ Ay, ay, that is always the way with thee. That smooth tongue of thine is better to thee than silver or gold; for it obtains for thee food, lodging, and friends, and softens all the wrath thy faults provoke. However, I shall set by all the burnt cakes for thy portion of the week's bread, I promise thee; and thou shalt have no other till they are all eaten.
_Alfred._ My good mistress, here comes a pilgrim boy to ask thy charity. May I bestow one of these cakes on him?
_Switha._ Thou mayest do what thou wilt with thine own, man! but do not presume to give away my property to idle fellows like thyself.
_Alfred._ But, mistress, may I not give him that which was to have been my portion for dinner?
_Switha._ No, indeed! I have enough to do with feeding one vagrant without adding all the lazy pilgrims who pass by.
_Alfred._ See, mistress, my amulet! I will give thee this jewel, Switha, if thou wilt permit me to feed this poor pilgrim.
_Switha._ Very well, then. Give him thy portion while I go and hide the jewel.
[_Goes out as Odulph enters._]
_Alfred._ Welcome, Odulph! Tell me thy tidings. I hunger for good news.
_Odulph._ My tidings, royal Alfred, are these: Hubba, the Dane, the terror of England, is slain, and his banner of the Raven waves in my father's hall!
_Alfred._ What? Is thy father's castle in the possession of the Danes?
_Odulph._ Not so, my royal master; but the banner of the Danes, captured by your victorious Saxons, hangs in his hall. We were pent up in the castle by the Danes till our provisions failed. When the last loaf was eaten, and our archers had launched their last arrows, my valiant father led the garrison in an attack upon the foe.
_Alfred._ Brave Oscar! And you defeated them!
_Odulph._ Yes, because of the carelessness of the Danes. They believed they had us in their power, and they never dreamed we would leave the castle walls. Few as we were, we fell upon them and slew their chiefs. The soldiers fled, and left our men victorious. Then my father raised the cry, "Alfred the king!" All the country is calling, "Alfred the king!"
_Alfred._ The time is ripe. I thank you, Odulph. Your father is a noble man, and I shall know how to show a king's gratitude to you both. Shall we go?
_Odulph._ Lead on, King Alfred, England is ready. Soon you shall head your army shouting, "Long live King Alfred!"
ROBIN HOOD AND THE SAD KNIGHT
PERSONS IN THE PLAY--ROBIN HOOD, LITTLE JOHN, MIDGE, WILL SCARLET, THE ABBOT, THE KNIGHT, THE PRIOR, THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, THE LADY
SCENE I.--_In the Greenwood._
[_Robin Hood and his men making arrows._]
_Robin Hood._ This feather is too short. Give me another, Little John. This is a better one.
_Midge._ Making arrows is not a simple thing, is it, my master?
_Robin Hood._ Indeed, no; if the feathers be too short, the arrows will not keep true to their course; and if the feathers be too long, the arrows will not fly swiftly.
_Little John._ If all men knew how to make arrows, their skill in shooting would seem greater. Look to your arrows, say I, before you shoot.
_Will Scarlet._ We should thank the gray goose for the even growth of her feathers, which carries our arrows straight to the mark.
_Robin Hood._ First the strong bow that bends to our hand, then the straight arrow, tough and trim, and the feathers that wing it to its mark. But best of all the steady hand and keen eye that direct our winged shaft. But you have worked well this morning, my men, and now we may rest awhile. Sing us a song, Will Scarlet, while we lie beneath the friendly oak.
_Will Scarlet_ (_sings_).
The hunt is up! the hunt is up! And it is well-nigh day; And Harry our king has gone hunting To bring his deer to bay.
The east is bright with morning light, And darkness, it is fled; And the merry horn wakes up the morn To leave his idle bed.
Awake, all men! I say again Be merry as you may! For Harry our king is gone hunting To bring the deer to bay.
_Little John._ This song is well enough in its way, but for me, I should much prefer a good dinner. The morning's work has given me a fine appetite and I long for food.
_Robin Hood._ It is good to eat, but not before we find some rich traveler to pay the bill. Ride out, my man, and find us a host. Willing or unwilling, bid him come.
_Little John._ With right good will, my master; and may I soon meet with him!
_Robin Hood._ Remember well, no farmer shall you bring. He works for what he gets and shall live in peace. And the laborer who toils for wife and child you must not harm. Only those who oppress the poor and weak, those who are selfish and unkind, who play while others weep, these shall you bring to me.
_Will Scarlet._ But look, my master, what sorrowing knight rides there? His garments are rich and his horse gayly decked, but his countenance is sad and he rides slowly, careless of the way.
_Little John._ Hail, gentle knight; my master awaits you and fain would have your company at dinner.
_The Knight._ At dinner,--in the wood! Who is your master?
_Little John._ Robin Hood is he: and here he is to bid you welcome.
_Robin Hood._ Welcome, Sir Knight, thrice welcome art thou, for I have fasted beyond the dinner hour. Pray you, dismount.
_The Knight._ God save you and all your company!
_Midge._ The dinner is served, my master.
_Robin Hood._ Will you join us, Sir Knight? Here are pheasants and swans and meat of the deer.
_The Knight._ Such a good dinner, with so many brave men, I have not eaten for many a day. If I come again to this country, I will make thee as good a dinner. But Heaven knows when that will be!
[Illustration]
_Robin Hood._ Thanks for your kind offer. But in the greenwood our guests must pay for their food. A yeoman does not pay for a rich knight!
_The Knight._ Sorry am I that you must call me poor. I would that I could pay you, but in my saddlebags are no more than ten shillings.
_Robin Hood._ Is that indeed the truth, Sir Knight? Look carefully, Little John; if the knight speaks truly, he shall keep the ten shillings, but if not--
_Little John._ Indeed, my master, the knight speaks truly, for this is all the money I can find.
_Robin Hood._ How comes it, noble knight, that thou art so poor? Come, tell me the story. Mayhap I can help thee.
_The Knight._ I am Sir Richard of Lea, and my ancestors have been knights for a hundred years. A year ago I had plenty of money to spend as I would. But now I have nothing for my wife and my children, who weep for my absence from them.
_Robin Hood._ But how did you lose all your money?
_The Knight._ Perhaps you will think I lost it in a foolish way. My son, whom I dearly love, is a manly youth. Well can he shoot and joust fairly in the field. But once, in a quarrel, he slew a youth, and to save him, I pledged all my lands. Unless I redeem them by All Saints Day I shall lose them all.
_Robin Hood._ What is the sum you are bound to pay?
_The Knight._ Four hundred pounds. The day is near and I have nothing.
_Robin Hood._ But what canst thou do if thou losest thy land? What wilt thou do?
_The Knight._ I will sail far away over the seas. I cannot remain in England.
_Robin Hood._ It is a small sum. Hast thou no friends to help thee in thy need?
_The Knight._ Many friends had I when I had money and lands. Now when I need their help they turn away and know me not.
_Robin Hood._ By my faith, gentle knight, thou shalt not want for a friend. Little John, go to the chest and count out four hundred pounds.
_Will Scarlet._ Shall he not have cloth for a coat, gentle master? He is thinly clad.
_Robin Hood._ Well said, Will Scarlet; go, get three measures of every kind, that he may be warmly and gayly clad.
_Little John._ Here is the money, Robin Hood, and good measure.
_Robin Hood._ And what will you give, Little John, who are so generous with my money?
_Little John._ A pair of golden spurs, that he may ride fast to his castle and redeem his lands.
_The Knight._ Many thanks, Little John, and to you, my good friend. Tell me, Robin Hood, when shall I come to return the money you so kindly lend me?
_Robin Hood._ This day twelvemonth; and a happy year may it be! We will meet under this trysting tree. Till then, be merry!
_The Knight._ I shall be with you a year from to-day. Farewell.
SCENE II.--_In the Abbot's Hall_
THE ABBOT, THE PRIOR
_The Abbot._ This day a year ago Sir Richard Lea borrowed four hundred pounds from me. He promised to pay in a year or lose his land. If he does not return to-day, the land will be mine.
_The Prior._ The day is now far spent. Perhaps he will come yet.
_The Abbot._ I am sure I hope he will not. I trust he has left England.
_The Prior._ The land is worth much more than four hundred pounds. It were a pity if he did not redeem it.
_The Abbot._ Thou art ever crossing me! Speak no more about it! Where is the Lord Justice?
[Illustration]
_Lord Justice_ (_enters_). Here I am. I have just come from London to do justice on that Knight. Where is he?
_The Abbot._ The Knight has failed to come with the money and this is the day when the land falls to me.
_Lord Justice._ I dare swear he will not come and thou shalt have his lands. I now declare that the knight, Sir Richard Lea, has failed to keep his promise and his lands are--
_The Knight_ (_entering and kneeling before the Abbot_). Rejoice with me, Sir Abbot. I am come to keep my day.
_The Abbot._ What dost thou say? Hast brought the money?
_The Knight_ (_to try the Abbot_). Not a penny, but--
_The Abbot._ What dost thou here without the money?
_The Knight._ To ask your kindness and patience, Sir Abbot, for a longer time.
_Lord Justice._ The day has come. Thou losest thy land, Sir Knight, since thou canst not pay.
_The Knight._ Good Lord Justice, help me against my foes! I will surely pay, but must have more time.
_Lord Justice._ I am sorry for thee, Sir Richard, but the law is plain. Either pay your debt or lose your land.
_The Knight._ Sir Abbot, I pray thee, have pity.
_The Abbot._ Get the land when thou canst, thou gettest no pity from me.
_The Knight._ By my faith, then, if I get not my land again, thou shalt pay dearly for it.
_The Abbot._ Get thee gone, false knight! Darest thou threaten me?
_The Knight._ False knight I am not, for I have fought well for my king.
_Lord Justice._ Sir Abbot, the day is not yet gone. What wilt thou give the knight to hold his peace?
_The Abbot._ A hundred pounds.
_Lord Justice._ Make it two hundred.
_The Knight._ No, nor nine hundred. Ye shall not have my land! Here, Sir Abbot, are the four hundred pounds. Had you been less covetous, I would have given interest. Now, get you gone, all of you; and learn to deal more justly and kindly with those in need. [_They go out._]
_Lady Lea_ (_entering_). Oh, my dear husband! how glad I am to hear your voice again.
_The Knight._ Happy am I to see you and to be at home again. I must tell you how kind Robin Hood has been to me.
_Lady Lea._ Robin Hood your friend? Is he not the outlaw of the forest?
_The Knight._ Yes; but he is kind to all who are unhappy or oppressed. He saved me from leaving England and gave me money to redeem my land.
_Lady Lea._ How I long to thank him for his goodness to you.
_The Knight._ In a year we will go to him and repay the four hundred pounds.
_Lady Lea._ I shall be glad to see him and his merry men, and try to thank them all.
WILLIAM TELL
A STORY OF SWITZERLAND. A.D. 1307
PERSONS IN THE PLAY--WILLIAM TELL; LEWIS, HIS SON; ALBERT, HIS SON; ANNETTE, HIS WIFE; LALOTTE, HIS NIECE, GESSLER, SOLDIERS
SCENE I.--_At Tell's Home_
_Albert._ Lewis, doesn't the quail smell good?
_Lewis._ Yes, I wish I could have some of it!
_Lalotte._ Hush! the quail is for your father.
_Albert._ I know that, Lalotte; but I am hungry, and I like quail.
_Lalotte._ Your father will be cold and hungry, for he has been on a long journey.
_Albert._ But perhaps he will not come. Mother, mother! may we have the quail if father is late? It is done now, and it will not be good if it is cooked any more.
_Lalotte._ Hush, you greedy boy! If I were your mother, I would send you to bed for thinking of such a thing.
_Albert._ You are not the mistress. You are not the mistress, and I shall not go to bed because you say so!
_William Tell_ (_at door_). But you shall go to bed, young man, if your Cousin Lalotte tells you to do so. Take them to bed, Lalotte.
_Albert._ Oh, father! We were only joking.
_Lewis._ Please, father, don't send us to bed.
_William Tell._ I must, my boy, because it is late, and I have news for your mother. Good night, my sons.
_Boys._ Good night, dear father.
[_They go out with Lalotte._]
_William Tell._ Thy father's news is not for young ears.
_Annette._ There is a sadness in thy voice, and trouble in thy face! Tell me what has happened to thee! Wilt thou not trust me?
_William Tell._ Yes, my Annette! Thou hast ever been a good wife and faithful friend. Why should I conceal my deeds from thee?
_Annette._ What hast thou done, my husband?
_William Tell._ Perhaps thou wilt blame me.
_Annette._ Nay, for thou art a good man, and whatever thou doest is right in my eyes.
_William Tell._ Thou knowest how our foreign rulers oppress the good people of Switzerland?
_Annette._ I do, but why should we poor peasants worry over the affairs of the nobles?
_William Tell._ But they are our troubles, too. So to-night I have met with three and thirty men, brave and loyal hearts, who have sworn to resist our oppressors and free our land from tyranny.
_Annette._ But how can three-and-thirty men think to conquer the armies of foreign tyrants?
_William Tell._ Sometimes great events are brought about by small means. All the people in their hearts hate the false ruler of our poor country, and many of these will willingly die for her sake.
_Annette._ Thou art brave, my husband, but what can so few do?
_William Tell._ Think of it! The father of one of our band has just been put to a cruel death. No man knows where the tyrant will strike next. Perhaps Gessler will pick me out for the next victim.
_Annette._ Thee! What charge could he bring against thee?
_William Tell._ He could say that I am the friend of my country, which in the tyrant Gessler's mind is a crime.
_Annette._ But Gessler will never hear of us, humble peasants. He is too far above us to care what we think.
_William Tell._ Not so, my dear wife. Gessler will not permit us to hold our thoughts in secret. He has a plan to discover our inmost thoughts.
_Annette._ What plan can he make to read our minds?
_William Tell._ A clever plan to tell a freeman from a slave. In Altdorf, our capital city, he has set up a pole. Upon the top of this pole he has put the cap of the Austrian king and has ordered every man to take off his hat as he passes by, to show that he yields to the Austrian rule. Is not this a brave plan? He who obeys the tyrant is a slave. Wouldst thou have thy husband doff his cap to his country's tyrant?
_Annette._ Never! I should despise thee, couldst thou do it!
_William Tell._ That is my own brave wife! Thou speakest as a free woman, the mother of free children, should speak. And our children shall be free! When I go to Altdorf I shall refuse to obey the order of Gessler and all Switzerland shall know that William Tell will not bow to a foreign tyrant.
_Annette._ But why go to Altdorf, my husband? Thou knowest the power of Gessler and his cruelty!
_William Tell._ Wouldst have me a coward? No, dear wife. When my business calls me to Altdorf I shall go and in all ways act as a free man, loyal to my country and afraid of no one.
_Annette._ Thou art a brave man, my husband, and I honor thee.
SCENE II.--_Altdorf: The Market place_
WILLIAM TELL, ALBERT, SOLDIERS, GESSLER
_William Tell._ Come, my son, I have sold the chamois skins, and now I must buy the things your mother wished me to get for her.
_Albert._ And, father, please buy some toys for little Lewis.
_William Tell._ You are a good boy, Albert, to remember your little brother. We will go to the shop across the square and look there for toys.
_Soldier._ Halt, man! Salute yonder cap!
_William Tell._ Why should I salute a cap of cloth?
_Soldier._ It is the cap of our emperor. If you do not honor the cap, you are a traitor.
_William Tell._ I am no traitor, and yet I will not bow down to an empty cap. I am a true Swiss and love my country.
_Gessler._ Ha, ha! Then we have a traitor here who will not yield to our emperor! Arrest him, my men; and we will teach him his manners. Who is this man?
_Soldier._ His name is William Tell, my lord.
_Gessler._ Insolent traitor! Bind him well.
_Albert._ Oh, father, I am afraid. Do not let the soldiers take me.
_William Tell._ Be calm, my son. No harm will come to thee.
_Gessler._ Indeed, and is this your son? Has he come to mock the cap of our royal master, too? Seize the boy and bind him to yonder tree.
_William Tell._ What will you do with the boy? Does a captain war with a child?
_Gessler._ We shall see. I hear you are a famous shot, William Tell, and handle well the bow and arrow. We shall soon know your skill. Have you a good arrow in your quiver? Perhaps you can shoot an apple from the head of your child.
_Soldier._ Where shall I bind the boy, my captain?
_Gessler._ To yonder tree. If his father shoots the apple from his child's head, he shall go free. If he fails he must die. Are you ready?
_William Tell._ Rather would I die than risk killing my eldest son. Let him go, and take my life.
_Gessler._ That I shall not do. You must both die unless you save your lives as I have said. Will you try the shot or are you afraid?
[Illustration]
_William Tell._ Bind the boy's eyes, I beg. He might move if he saw the arrow coming, and my skill would be in vain.
_Gessler._ I am willing, for well I know you cannot cleave the apple at that distance.
_William Tell._ Tyrant! I cannot fail now, when my son's life depends upon me. Stand perfectly still, my brave boy, and father will not hurt you. Now I pray for strength--my trusty arrow must not fail me! There! [_He shoots._]
_Soldier._ See, my captain! The apple is split! That was a fine shot!
_Gessler._ Yes, it was a good shot, and I did not believe anyone could make it. I suppose I must set you free. But why have you that other arrow in your hand?
_William Tell._ To shoot you with it had I killed my darling boy.
_Gessler._ Seize him, my men!
_William Tell._ Never! Come, Albert! This arrow for him who stops me!
_Soldiers._ He has escaped!
TIME AND THE SEASONS
_Father Time._ I must call my children together and give them orders for the New Year. Open the door, my servants, and let the Seasons appear.
_Spring_ (_entering_). Here I am, Father Time. What are your commands for your youngest daughter?