Читать книгу Lords and Lovers, and Other Dramas - Olive Tilford Dargan - Страница 7

Table of Contents

Hub. But forty ships! But forty slit-sailed drabs

Of storm and watery danger to meet all France

Fresh-winged upon the sea! And yet no word

Nor stir of help. Methinks were I the king,

Or Pembroke with his power in my mouth,

Each English road should be ablaze to-night

With swift flint-striking hoofs. Now to our shore

Puffs up the wave may prove oblivion's maw,

And drink these Dover cliffs as they were sands,

Yet England sleeps, with one lone heart at watch.

[Sound of horse approaching] Nay, two, for Roland comes.

[Enter Roland de Born, dismounted]

Rol. You, Hubert?

Hub. Ay.

You bring no aid?

Rol. The king is powerless.

Pembroke is dead. The barons to covert slink,

Saying their loyalty binds them to fight

No farther than the shore. The bishops smirk

Beneath their mitres, roll their eyes and cry

"God and great Rome, deliver us!" which means

Deliver us to Louis, king of monks

And darling of the pope.

Hub. And Albemarle?

Rol. Stands by the king, and ready with his men

To meet the foe on land, but not a soul

Will send to sea.

Hub. Dissembler! Well he knows

A victory on the sea means England lost,

So many traitor hearts will league with France

And sell their country for one castle more.

Rol. What now? We've little time. 'Tis almost day.

The moon is down, and the raw, rising air

Sucks in approaching light. What must be done?

Hub. The Cinque Ports yield me forty ships.

With these

I'll meet Le Moine.

Rol. O, Hubert, Hubert!

Hub. Ay,

My men are all aboard and waiting me.

The garrison I leave to you. Hold it

For honor and the king, nor yield to save

So poor a thing as my unlucky head

Should I go foul at sea. You'll be the first

The victors will besiege.

Rol. My friend!

Hub. Tut, man,

The sea's a good safe bed. Come in. Some wine

Will take the night-chill from your blood. In, in!

[Exeunt. Curtain]