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The Tragedy of Arthur_ A Novel - Arthur Phillips [147]

By Root 876 0
enow to preach of ransom.

Bright-armored33 Gloucester called his mind to it;

War counsel comes from one who shunned the brawl!

What man would wink at that one’s cowardice

Then heed the stratagems he would propose?

No oath adheres to such a paltry king,

But for the love I bore his poisoned sire. Exit

[ACT II, SCENE VIII]

[Location: Arthur’s camp at Lincoln]

Enter Arthur, Gloucester, servants, messengers

ARTHUR

Our late inspect1 of Britain’s sorrowing breadth

Shows us a land all brought to waste by war,

From hunger lamed, abandoned of the law.

Now plague and famine stalk our market towns,

And gripes2 make claim of sovereignty for death

Where Arthur would establish gentler court.

Here is a worthy challenge for a king.

No Pendragon forepast3 hath seen as I

The glory of a king is weighed on scale

By what prosperity his kingdom joys.

Watch Arthur now drive sickness, dearth, and war

From out his realm as I did whip the Scot.

Send men to learn what towns have stores of corn.

Set reeves to fix my law in every shire.4

Strong fort each town on coast and northern line.

Enter Constantine [Cornwall]

My dear, good Cornwall! Rise and let me kiss you!

CORNWALL

My king, I bring all love and of more boot5

Five thousand Cornish blades as you require.

ARTHUR

Again, again, embrace me, Constantine, brave

Cornwall!6 Now help me to remember, friend: when

were we last together?

CORNWALL

’Twas Gloucestershire. Our fathers lived and we

did pass each day at swim and running. You ever

were the best.

ARTHUR

And thou, to make a match of heaven,7 wert always

second.

CORNWALL

Too sadly true.

ARTHUR

And when thou wert king of the woods and I was king

of the waters, or I king of the woods and thou of

waters, our pastance8 was to act great deeds for the

the princess of the flowers. How fares thy gentle

sister? Still pleasant in her humors, the girl we

strived9 to please?

CORNWALL

No more a girl, but still doth ask in humility to be

remembered.

ARTHUR

I remember no store of humility in her.

CORNWALL

Your wit10 is most royally acute. But you will observe

her alterations, for she rides to join with us anon. It

was her will, and her will is beyond my certain

manage.

ARTHUR

You were my joy of younger days, good earl,

And now I swear upon this fruitful plain,

That you and I will be inseparate.

CORNWALL

You deem this blasted,11 war-ripped turf so rich?

ARTHUR

Ay, Cornwall! All our enemies are flown,

And we will in this loam plant seeds of peace.

Enter messenger

A frantic look in this one’s eye.—What is’t?

MESSENGER

My king, as you did by their bond require,

The Saxons lifted sail from Lincoln Wash.

But soon a change of wind did hale12 them back.

Their priests addeemed13 this blessed by pagan gods.

They spilled from ship anew upon our isle,

Contemptibly stepped back onto our sands.

They throw their eyes on gold and church and field,

They kill our countrymen and burn our land.

ARTHUR

O, God! What scorn I do deserve from thee!

What villainy is this? What have I wrought?

What arrogant and idle prince am I!

And where were men to chide my fond, mad youth?

I should be scorned for my vain clemency.

I am not mocked enough! O sugar-prince,

A headstrong jade14 that should be roughly spurred!

Let those who judge me weak be made at once

My chosen privy councillors.—Which way?

MESSENGER

Towards Bath, my king.

ARTHUR

We’ll cote15 them ere they wash.

This crime has touched me; I am powder-hot.

To rear now post my word: our mercy’s pact

Refused, each prisoner’s throat is to be cut.

GLOUCESTER

The tidings speak but Saxon perfidy,

Not Scot nor Pict. A moment’s calm, I beg.

ARTHUR

I’ll not be tender pitying more, good duke.—

Exit messenger

My men, imperfect16 is our bloody task

So follow me, unsheathe your late-hacked blade

And dispatch hell-born foes to hellish shade.

Exeunt

[ACT II, SCENE IX]

[Location: The Pictish Court]

Enter Doctor and Conranus

DOCTOR

I have to all my texts submitted Loth,

To all my wit, invention, fancy, hopes,

To strong balsamo,1 leeches,

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