Read The Tragedy of Arthur: A Novel Online
Authors: Arthur Phillips
Enter Cumbria with lady-whifflers
ARTHUR
GUENHERA
My lord, if I do reign, then let me reign.
ARTHUR
O, gentle tyrant, mercy on my head.
GUENHERA
Once only do I wink,
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or else seem weak.Now, Crier, speak!
LADY CRIER
O, Earl of Cumbria!
As token of accused, uncertain state,
Bear willow branch as sign of love forsworn
And fennel leaf that honors lovers true.
She gives two branches
At trial’s end, shall one remain on you.
[
Reading
]Imprimis:
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The Earl of Cumbria did, upon St. Lambert’sDay,
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speak love to Rosamunde, a lady of this court,and did move her with his words.
Item:
He havingpurchased with words this melting heart, the same
earl did lead the lady to a bosky covert.
11Item:
This same earl did, at mellay
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two days later,wear no token of the lady in his helm or on his
person and, when he did smite Sir Stephen to the
ground, asked not the lady’s favor. Thus reads the
charge of most uncourteous love.
GUENHERA
The lady stands withal. Her case is plain.
And black th’unmitigated
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crime we hear.If guilt is found then we pronounce the doom:
To Rosamunde forsworn you’ll pay a sonnet.
Its two and dozen branches
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will supportPerfumèd buds of love that you affect,
As every lady here can see in you.
Good Cumbria, what answer do you make?
CUMBRIA
Discharge your servant from this vanity,
This swarm of tomboy-geese,
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and swift restoreThis wayward court to manly empery.
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ARTHUR
Kneel, slave, to thy dread queen and tame thy tongue,
Which were more sharp, thy neck had felt its edge.
19Compose thy fourteen lines to this poor maid,
Or suffer my compulsatory
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wrath.
GUENHERA
Such moody men ill suit our quiet court.
The both of you I hold as rudesbys,
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both:Yes, king, who would o’erbear in his queen’s name,
But doing so o’erbears that queen you serve.
Thy sonnet is become a plump ballade,
22Good earl, and scowls will yield thee yet more verse.
For peevish king, on thee falls heavy doom:
Of queenly wisdom.
Enter Gloucester
GLOUCESTER
King, the court must void
And council sit at once to hear my news.
GUENHERA
My duke, why haste and noise in ladies’ hour?
This sorts
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not with our majesty, dear friend.
GLOUCESTER
My king, there is but now delivered word.
Off Devon’s Linmouth coast a forest sprouts,
A wood at sea, but in its rise and fall
Distinct from landed trees that left and right
Do rock. And from each countless, tow’ring mast
Clap Saxon pennons: wolves and demi-fiends.
Unfinished yet are that coast’s daunting walls,
And force more vast than any we have known
Now wets its tongue on English blood and tears.
ARTHUR
We stand amazed at how it comes again,
And summer blue grows black by Saxon clouds.
Dear ladies, pray excuse our shifting key;
We must unwilling now hear other tunes.
GUENHERA
An hour yet, King, to see our matter’s end.
ARTHUR
How sweet, my love, to count each grain of time
Then turn th’hour-glass around again whilst thou
Dost sift the virtues in thy manuals.
26I feel remorse that we must turn to war
And bid you lead your ladies from the court.
GUENHERA
Unhappily we yield, my fearful liege,
But only if we may convene anon.
ARTHUR
Enough! There can be no more talk. Now, go!
Exeunt all ladies
Speak, Gloucester, Cumbria, all men of war:
What ready force might we in haste array?
GLOUCESTER
King, we are taken tardy by a phoenix
That we did reckon so much heaped-up ash.
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ARTHUR
These conquered Saxons practiced sorcery
That from their ruined state did plenish up
28So titely
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their annihilated strength.
CUMBRIA
No sorcery but your soft mercy, king,
When for their scabby pagan vows at York
You set them back on sea to breed and then
At Bath did qualm to slay but half their ranks
And loosed their weeping bearing boys to fly.
At Linmouth they repay your gentleness
While you do wail of clouds and sorcery!
GLOUCESTER
Withhold thine indignation, Cumbria,
And bow thy head in fear of thy king’s rage.
ARTHUR
Nay, nay, a king may rightly be rebuked.
’Twas youthful will to be unlike my sire
Provoked me to such bounty unadvised—
An Devon’s bulwarks are imperfect still,
I fear to know our count of ready men.
GLOUCESTER
Forsooth, scant thousand are trained up in arms.
To that add peasant ranks with knife and fork.
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CORNWALL
My power, nearest Linmouth in its day,
Was all brought north to fortify the Tyne.
ARTHUR
The Saxons find us lame, they will bestrut
31As far as London ere we give them fight.
What help can we account from northern lands?
CUMBRIA
The Pict will lend sworn arms at your command
But only if he fears your swift reproof.
ARTHUR
He knelt in Abbey’s echoes, kissed my ring.
Sure I doubt nothing of his fast reply.
Send now to him. Command his every pick.
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CUMBRIA
This reasons shallow, King. He bent his knees
When Arthur’s power waxed, and Pictland’s throne
Was filled as Arthur would.
ARTHUR
And now?
CUMBRIA
And now
Nor fear of you nor love for you hath he,
But grudgeful holds you Calvan’s slaughterer,
And will no bloody aid deliver you
But smiling tarry as your England burns.
ARTHUR
Though Britain joys first peace sith Roman days,
And harvests more can feed each mewling babe,
Though churches toll and tithe, and stalls
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are full,Though our court’s glories ring to Muscovy,
Barbarians flow across the land like rats,
For Mordred, goat o’the moors, doth fear not me.
I’ll open up that cur from throat to paunch—
Might we in France an ally find?
GLOUCESTER
Sure not.
Not when their offered love was cast away
And you must wed where no alliance was.
ARTHUR
What game is this? Why come they yet again?
CUMBRIA
Your prideful realm is built on women’s dreams.
Surprised are you this peace lasts but a day?
That on our shores again these devils wash?
There never will be day until the last,
Without some foeman come t’unsheathe his sword.
There’s only war. ’Tis man’s inheritance.
No peace, but now and then an instant’s breath
Made sweeter still by certain brevity.
’Twas this your father Uter taught to me.
ARTHUR
He taught me nought, nor this nor other words.
As Mordred makes us beg that is our right,
What ransom must we pay the proditor?
37What treasure yield to purchase love from him?