My heart is heavier than this heat that weighs With all the weight of June on us.I know not Why.And the feast is close on us.I would This night were now to-morrow morn.I know not Why.
Enter ALMACHILDES.
Ah! What would you?
ALMACHILDES.
Queen, our lord the king Bade me before thee hither.
ROSAMUND.
Truth: I know it.
Thou art loved and honoured of our lord the king.
Dost thou, whom honour loves before thy time, Love?
ALMACHILDES
Ay: thy noble handmaid, Hildegard.
I know not if she love me.
ROSAMUND.
Thou shalt know.
But this thou knowest: I may not give thee her.
ALMACHILDES.
I would not take her from the Lord God's hand If hers were given against her will to mine.
ROSAMUND.
A man said that: a manfuller than men Who grip the loveless hands of prisoners.Well It must be with the bride whose happier hand Lies fond and fast in thine.Our Hildegard, Being free and noble as Albovine and we, Born one with us in race and blood, and thence Our equal in our sole nobility, Must well be won by noble works, and love Whose light is one with honour's.
ALMACHILDES.
Queen, may I
Perchance not win it? I know not.
ROSAMUND.
Nay, nor I.
Soon may we know; they are entering toward the feast.
[The curtain drawn discovers a banquet, with guests assembled:
among them NARSETES and HILDEGARD.
Re-enter ALBOVINE.
ALBOVINE.
Thine hand: I hold the whitest in the world.
Sit thou, boy, there, beside sweet Hildegard.
[They sit.
Bring me the cup.Queen, thou shalt pledge with me A health to all this kingdom and its weal Even from the bowl that here to hold in hand Assures me lord of Lombardy and thine By right and might of battle and of God -The skull that was thy father's: so shalt thou Drink to me with thy father.
ROSAMUND.
Sire, my lord, The life my sire, who gave thee up his life, Gave me, and fostered till thou hadst given him death, Is all now thine.Thy will be done.I drink To thee, who art all this kingdom and its weal, All health and honour that of right should be, With all good things I wish thee.[Drinks.
ALBOVINE.
Wish me well, And God must give me what thou wilt.Good friends, My warriors and my brethren, hath not he Given me to wife the best one born of man And loveliest, and most loving? Silent, sirs?
Wherefore?
ROSAMUND.
Thou shouldst not ask it.Bid the cup Go blithely round.
ALBOVINE.
By Christ and Thor, it shall.
What ails the boy there? Almachildes!
ALMACHILDES.
King, Nought ails me.
ALBOVINE.
Nor thy maiden?
ALMACHILDES.
King, nor her.
ALBOVINE.
Fall then to feasting.Bear the cup away.
Some savour of the dust of death comes from it.
Sweet, be not wroth nor sad.
ROSAMUND.
I am blithe and fain, Sire; and I loved thee never more than now.
ALBOVINE.
Nor ever I thee.Now I find thee mine, And now no daughter of mine enemy's.
ROSAMUND.
No.
Thou hast no enemy left on earth alive -
No soul unslain that hates thee.
ALBOVINE.
That were much.
What man may say it? and least of all may kings.
ROSAMUND.
What hast thou done that man should hate thee--man Or woman?
ALBOVINE.
Which of us may answer, Nought?
ROSAMUND.
Thou might'st have made me--me, my father's child -Harlot and slave: thou hast made me wife and queen.
ALBOVINE.
Thee have I loved; ay, and myself in thee, Who hast made me more than king and lord, being thine.
ROSAMUND.
Courtesy sets on kings a goldener crown That sits upon them seemlier.
ALBOVINE.
Courtesy!
Truth.Hark thee, boy, and let thy Hildegard Hearken.Is she, thy queen, a peer of mine?
ALMACHILDES.
She wears no crown but heaven's about her head -No gold that was not born upon her brows Transfigures or disfigures them.She is not A peer of thine.
ROSAMUND.
He answers well.
ALBOVINE.
He answers Ill--as the spirit of shamelessness might speak.
ALMACHILDES.
Shameless are they that lie.I lie not.
ALBOVINE.
Boy, Tempt not the rod.
ALMACHILDES.
The rod that man may wield No man may fear: the slave who fears it is not Man.
ALBOVINE.
Art thou crazed with wine?
ALMACHILDES.
Am I thy king?
ALBOVINE.
My thrall thou knowest thou art not, or thy tongue Durst challenge not mine anger.
ROSAMUND.
Thrall and free, Woman and man, yea, queen and king, are born More wide apart than earth or hell and heaven.
Sirs, let no wrangling breath distune the peace That shines and glows about us, and discerns A banquet from a battle.Thou, my lord, Hast bidden away the dust of death which fell Between us at thy bidding, and is now Nothing--a dream blown out at waking.Thou, My lord's young chosen of warriors, be not wroth, Albeit thy wrath be noble, though my lord See fit to try my love as gold is tried By fire: it burns not thee.Strike hand in hand:
Ye have done so after battle.
ALBOVINE.
Drink again.
I pledge thee, boy.
ALMACHILDES.
I pledge thee, king.
ROSAMUND.
My lord, I am weary at heart, and fain would sleep.Forgive me That I can sit no more.
ALBOVINE.
What ails thee?
ROSAMUND.
Nought.
The hot and heavy time of year has bound About my brows a band of iron.Sire, Thou wouldst not see me sink aswoon, and mar The raptures of thy revel.
ALBOVINE.
Get thee hence.
Go.God be with thee.
ROSAMUND.
God abide with thee.
[Exit with attendants.
ALBOVINE.
This is no feast: I will no more of it.Boy, Take note, and tempt not so thy bride, albeit She tempt thee to the trial.
ALMACHILDES.
I shall not, king, ALBOVINE.
She will not.Sirs, good night--if night may be Good.Hardly may the day be, here.And yet For you it may be--Hildegard and thee.
God give you joy.
ALMACHILDES.
God give thee comfort, king.
[Exeunt.
