Tragic Poem of Wold, The - Act 3, Scene 5
SCENE V — A Rocky Glen in a Wood . R ACHEL , gathering wild strawberries
C HAYR ( listening ). The enemy's after me still — what could have roused him? Ha! there's the cracking of dry twigs, too, at the head of the glen, before me. Some of them have got round upon me. Here's a natural cave of the rock, I'll bestow me here a while. But what have we now? ( observing R ACHEL ). A woodland creature with her eye upon me. Come hither, damsel.
Look me full in the face — are you true?
R ACH. I hope so
C HAYR. Do you know me?
R ACH. No
C HAYR. I am Sir Lionel Chayr in disguise, one of King Richard's captains. The King's foes are out after me. My life is in your hand. Would you give me up to them for a price?
R ACH. Trust me, gallant Sir, I would not do it.
C HAYR. What! not betray me in these times? You'll die young, then, such a rarity are you.
R ACH. O no, I would not do it.
C HAYR. By your heart in your young face, No. I could trust you to the death. Here's some brush of thistles and ivy ( cutting them with his sword ) I'll into this caverned cliff, and you'll cover up the entrance neatly and naturally. Hold — don't smile, till I paint your face with these strawberries. 'Tis a seen to hide your innocent beauty; but you must allow me — thus. Now, the impudent soldiery won't see how fair you are: The better for you in these defenceless woods. Moreover, they'll take you for one weak of mind. Be so to them for the time, and parry their quest of me. Come back to me, when they're fairly out o' the wood. Quick now, I hear them upon us. Cover me in, and then to your strawberry-gathering, with some simple song in your mouth.
Enter SoldIERS
1 ST Sold . He came this way, surely.
2 D Sold. Look about among the rocks, here. He must be in some hole of hiding. Was't Chayr?
1 ST Sold. No doubt of it. He does all the difficult work himself. A straggler from our camp saw him part from old Mountnorris of the Castle, and gave the alarm. But here's one may help us. Hither, sweetheart.
Enter R ACHEL singing, with wild flower's in her hair . Ah! the poor thing's wits are gone. But she's woman enough to paint her face, and deck her hair: The simplest of the sex knows the virtue of that.
2 D Sold. Come, lass, you know that strawberries make your cheeks pretty; so you must know the value of white money. We're after one of King Henry's enemies. He's a young man in disguise, and came this way. Do now, show us where he is and the Captain of the camp will fill your lap with crowns.
R ACH. Pal-lal! Pal-lal!
2 D Sold. ( taking out a coin ) You know what that is?
R ACH. ( proffering her basket of strawberries, with a smile) Pal-lal! Pal-lal!
1 ST Sold. Very fair, my good wench.
2 D Sold. Nay, not exactly that sort of bargain. But would all our hucksters, and trucksters, and tommy-shopmen had as guileless arts of merchandise!
3 D Sold . Come, lads, she can't help us. We'e losing time.
R ACHEL listens, and looks all around
R ACH. They're fairly gone. I'll wash my face in this runnel, and then bid him come out.
You may come forth, Sir, the soldiers are away.
C HAYR. I heard it all, maiden. You have saved my life. Ah! you have washed your face, I see. Nay, blush not; you are a woman, but a faithful one.
R ACH. It became me to wait on the King's Captain gravely.
C HAYR. You must be my friend still. I dare not affront you with money. Take this ring. Send it to me if ever you are in a strait; and, if I'm in England, I'll come and help you. Ay, and you are not to marry, without having me at your wedding.
R ACH. We don't take gifts for doing simple duty, but you're too high for me to refuse ( taking the ring )
C HAYR. Who are you, damsel; so homely are your weeds, yet you answer so discreetly in these perverse times?
R ACH. Thy handmaid, Rachel, is the daughter of the blind old Minstrel of Wold, who dwells in the skirts of the forest. True is he to his King, and has sung the deeds of Sir Lionel Chayr. They call him the Loyal Harper.
C HAYR. I've noted the gray harper. He has been
A soldier in his youth — that I can see.
The old fire's there, as he stands up and holds,
Steady, his sightless orbs against the day,
Snuffing the battle. Loyal songs, too, he,
Self-risking, casts, precious seed, on the hard
And stony ground of this rebellious age.
Your King shall hear of you both. Kiss me, my child,
And wish me well for Richard's sake.
You have
More reverence than false modesty: You'll be
A true wife.
R ACH. You may venture now from the wood
The God of Battles go with you, good Sir!
C HAYR. Amen, sweet child of virtue!
The benediction of the unworldly Heavens
Be on your good young head!
C HAYR ( listening ). The enemy's after me still — what could have roused him? Ha! there's the cracking of dry twigs, too, at the head of the glen, before me. Some of them have got round upon me. Here's a natural cave of the rock, I'll bestow me here a while. But what have we now? ( observing R ACHEL ). A woodland creature with her eye upon me. Come hither, damsel.
Look me full in the face — are you true?
R ACH. I hope so
C HAYR. Do you know me?
R ACH. No
C HAYR. I am Sir Lionel Chayr in disguise, one of King Richard's captains. The King's foes are out after me. My life is in your hand. Would you give me up to them for a price?
R ACH. Trust me, gallant Sir, I would not do it.
C HAYR. What! not betray me in these times? You'll die young, then, such a rarity are you.
R ACH. O no, I would not do it.
C HAYR. By your heart in your young face, No. I could trust you to the death. Here's some brush of thistles and ivy ( cutting them with his sword ) I'll into this caverned cliff, and you'll cover up the entrance neatly and naturally. Hold — don't smile, till I paint your face with these strawberries. 'Tis a seen to hide your innocent beauty; but you must allow me — thus. Now, the impudent soldiery won't see how fair you are: The better for you in these defenceless woods. Moreover, they'll take you for one weak of mind. Be so to them for the time, and parry their quest of me. Come back to me, when they're fairly out o' the wood. Quick now, I hear them upon us. Cover me in, and then to your strawberry-gathering, with some simple song in your mouth.
Enter SoldIERS
1 ST Sold . He came this way, surely.
2 D Sold. Look about among the rocks, here. He must be in some hole of hiding. Was't Chayr?
1 ST Sold. No doubt of it. He does all the difficult work himself. A straggler from our camp saw him part from old Mountnorris of the Castle, and gave the alarm. But here's one may help us. Hither, sweetheart.
Enter R ACHEL singing, with wild flower's in her hair . Ah! the poor thing's wits are gone. But she's woman enough to paint her face, and deck her hair: The simplest of the sex knows the virtue of that.
2 D Sold. Come, lass, you know that strawberries make your cheeks pretty; so you must know the value of white money. We're after one of King Henry's enemies. He's a young man in disguise, and came this way. Do now, show us where he is and the Captain of the camp will fill your lap with crowns.
R ACH. Pal-lal! Pal-lal!
2 D Sold. ( taking out a coin ) You know what that is?
R ACH. ( proffering her basket of strawberries, with a smile) Pal-lal! Pal-lal!
1 ST Sold. Very fair, my good wench.
2 D Sold. Nay, not exactly that sort of bargain. But would all our hucksters, and trucksters, and tommy-shopmen had as guileless arts of merchandise!
3 D Sold . Come, lads, she can't help us. We'e losing time.
R ACHEL listens, and looks all around
R ACH. They're fairly gone. I'll wash my face in this runnel, and then bid him come out.
You may come forth, Sir, the soldiers are away.
C HAYR. I heard it all, maiden. You have saved my life. Ah! you have washed your face, I see. Nay, blush not; you are a woman, but a faithful one.
R ACH. It became me to wait on the King's Captain gravely.
C HAYR. You must be my friend still. I dare not affront you with money. Take this ring. Send it to me if ever you are in a strait; and, if I'm in England, I'll come and help you. Ay, and you are not to marry, without having me at your wedding.
R ACH. We don't take gifts for doing simple duty, but you're too high for me to refuse ( taking the ring )
C HAYR. Who are you, damsel; so homely are your weeds, yet you answer so discreetly in these perverse times?
R ACH. Thy handmaid, Rachel, is the daughter of the blind old Minstrel of Wold, who dwells in the skirts of the forest. True is he to his King, and has sung the deeds of Sir Lionel Chayr. They call him the Loyal Harper.
C HAYR. I've noted the gray harper. He has been
A soldier in his youth — that I can see.
The old fire's there, as he stands up and holds,
Steady, his sightless orbs against the day,
Snuffing the battle. Loyal songs, too, he,
Self-risking, casts, precious seed, on the hard
And stony ground of this rebellious age.
Your King shall hear of you both. Kiss me, my child,
And wish me well for Richard's sake.
You have
More reverence than false modesty: You'll be
A true wife.
R ACH. You may venture now from the wood
The God of Battles go with you, good Sir!
C HAYR. Amen, sweet child of virtue!
The benediction of the unworldly Heavens
Be on your good young head!
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.