Part 31

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?