PERSONS IN THE PLAY - QUEEN JUDITH, ETHELBALD,
ETHELBERT, ETHELRED,
ALFRED, PEASANTS, KING’S OFFICERS
SCENE I. - In the Castle
Ethelbald. Tell us a story, lady mother.
Ethelbert. Yes, tell us a story.
Ethelred. I wish it would stop
raining, so that we might take our hawks for a hunt!
Queen. I have something to
show you, my princes. Is not this a beautiful
book?
Alfred. How lovely the red
velvet, and see, the clasp is of gold!
Ethelred. And there are jewels in the clasp!
Queen. It is well bound, as
so precious a volume should be; but the binding is
the least valuable part of the book. Shall we
look within?
Ethelbald. Pray show us, lady mother!
Queen. Observe the forms of
mighty warriors, fair ladies, and royal chiefs of
the olden times in bright and glowing colors.
Ethelbert. How brave they look!
Who are they? Tell us of them, dear mother.
Queen. These pictures are beautiful
and appeal to the eye, but neither they nor the velvet
and gold of the binding give the joy which is greatest.
Alfred. What do you mean, dear lady mother?
Queen. This is a book I greatly
enjoy, for it is full of the tales of the mighty King
Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. You
will like to hear me read these brave stories when
you are tired with your day’s work, or on rainy
days when you can neither hunt nor ride. Then
you know not how to amuse yourselves and time is heavy
on your hands, since you can neither read nor play
upon the musical instruments that give us so much
pleasure.
Ethelred. The book is so lovely.
Let me take it, lady mother!
Queen. I would that the children
of my royal husband could read the book.
Ethelbald. Our father does
not think much of books and music. He likes to
hunt and fight, and so do I.
Ethelred. And I love to hunt,
but I love to hear the stories of great kings and
warriors, too.
Alfred. To which of us wilt
thou give the book, lady mother?
Queen. I will bestow it on
him who shall first learn how to read it.
Alfred. Will you really, dear mother?
Queen. Yes, upon the faith
of a queen, I will. I will not give it to one
who cannot read it. Books are meant for the learned
and not for the ignorant. The sons of a king
should cease to play with toys.
Alfred. May I take the book a little while?
Queen. Yes, you may take the
precious volume, Alfred, for I know you will not injure
it, and I hope you will soon learn how to make its
wisdom your own.
Alfred. Thank you, lady mother.
I shall study the book and learn to read, for I wish
to know all about the brave knights of Arthur’s
court.
SCENE II. - Years later, when Alfred is
King
KING ALFRED, OSCAR THE EARL, ODULPH, THE EARL’S SON
Alfred. All the others have
gone back to their homes. In no other way can
ye serve me. Wherefore do ye go about to weep
and break my heart?
Oscar. We weep, royal Alfred,
because thou hast forbidden us to share thy fortunes;
as if we were the swarm of summer flies, who follow
only while the sun shineth.
Alfred. My valiant Oscar, and
you my faithful Odulph, listen to me. I do not
despair. The time is not ripe now for further
war. Our foes the Danes have conquered us for
a time. I trust that the time will come when
we shall drive them from our land. But we must
do that which seems best for the present and seek
to be more successful in the future. We must
not sit down and weep; no, this rather shall you do.
Go back to your own people and keep me in their memory.
When the Dane rules most cruelly, then rise up and
cry aloud in the ears of the people, “Alfred
the king yet liveth!” Then gather the soldiers
and I shall come to lead them to victory.
Oscar. Thou shalt be obeyed,
my royal lord. I will return to my men and do
as thou hast said. But let my son Odulph stay
with thee, if only as thy servant.
Odulph. Well will I serve thee,
my royal lord. It is not well for the king to
fare alone.
Alfred. I am well content to
serve myself, or even to be servant to others, until
a happier time shall come. If Odulph desires to
serve me, it shall be by bringing good tidings of
your success with my people. When the time comes
that we may again fight for our country, let him bring
me the welcome message. Then we will free our
country from the Danish yoke.
Oscar. Farewell, my royal master,
since thou wilt have it so.
Odulph. And may the time soon
come when I shall bring the message to thee!
Alfred. Farewell, my loyal friends. All
will be well.
SCENE III. - In the Peasant’s Home
KING ALFRED, PEASANT CUDRED, WIFE SWITHA
Alfred. Save you, good father!
May a Saxon stranger, whom the Danish robbers have
made homeless, share a lodging with thy master’s
cattle for the night?
Cudred. Wilt thou swear to
me that thou art not a Dane in disguise?
Alfred. I say to thee, my friend,
I am no Dane, but a true Saxon.
Cudred. Then thou shalt share
the calf’s crib to-night. Perchance thou
art hungry, too?
Alfred. To say truth, father,
I have not broken my fast to-day; neither have I had
aught to drink save from these marshy streams.
I shall be right thankful for some food, even a crust
of coarsest rye bread.
Cudred. Rye bread, forsooth!
Thou talkest of dainties indeed! Thou wilt get
nothing better than flat oaten cakes here.
Alfred. I have always wished to taste an oaten
cake.
Cudred. Follow me, then, and
thou shalt have thy desire. Switha, Switha!
Switha. Well, I hear thee!
Cudred. Switha, I have brought
thee home a guest who will be glad to partake of our
supper.
Switha. A guest! And thinkest
thou I’ve naught better to do than broil fish
and bake cakes for all the vagabonds who roam the land?
Cudred. Patience, good Switha.
I have not asked thee to cook for a vagabond.
This is an honest Saxon whom it will be charity to
feed and shelter for the night.
Switha. Let me hold the torch
and see this Saxon guest. Thou lookest like a
guest of fashion, sorry fellow!
Cudred. Cease thy scolding
talk, woman! I see by this light that our guest
hath not been used to beg for charity from such as
thou. Why be so hard of heart and by thy rude
taunts make bitter the food he must receive from our
hands?
Switha. I have heard that charity
begins at home, and I am sure we are poor enough.
Cudred. Not poor enough to
refuse food to the hungry, such as it is. Here
is fish, and here an oaten cake which you wish to taste.
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!”