We curse, except it cast their bodies out;

We shut the gates of Heaven against their souls,
And as this candle that I fling to the ground,

So be their light extinguished in the Pit !

Morcar and other Monks. Amen! So be it! Be it

Sidroc (aside to WULFSTAN). The day is lost-away -skip-scud-begone.

[SIDROC and WULFSTAN, with others of the Secular party, retire amidst the shouts and execrations of the Regu

lars.

Dunstan. Publish the miracle without the gates; Declare the sentence of the Pope.

Odo.
Fly hence !
Ye that are Secular! They will rouse the people!
There will be violence and blood. Fly hence.
This Council is dismissed. The grace of God
Be with you all! This Synod is dissolved.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Tonbridge Castle.

ATHULF and GRIMBALD.

Athulf. There-take my truncheon-Thou couldst rule my force

With more acceptance in the general mind
Than I. By Heaven, I am ashamed to see
Such bickerings in a Camp! Give me a cowl
And let me rule a Monastery rather.

Grimbald. There-take my cap and bells-I'll rule your force,

And wisely too; but when I look for love
In change for wisdom from the multitude,
Give me again my good old cap and bells.
Athulf. Ah, Fool, you're right-and that man is

not wise

That cannot bear to be accounted foolish.
I must be patient. Yet it frets my heart,
Amongst my many cares, to be reviled
By shallow coxcombs whom I daily save,
Rescue, redeem, snatch from a rubbishy tomb
Amongst the ruins of their wits, pulled down

By their own hands upon their heads, God help them!
Well, I'll be patient. Fetch me the muster-roll.

'Tis ill to bear though.

[Exit GRIMBALD.

Enter SIDROC and WULFSTAN THE WISE.
Ha! my friends! in this
At least has Fortune favoured me. I feared
The tidings of our misadventurous Synod
Augured but ill for both of you. Well met!

Bonfires shall blaze for this. What! 'twas your heels,
I think, that brought you hither?

Sidroc.
As for myself,
When I am frightened I can run with wings,
Fast as an ostrich ; but preserve me, Heaven!
From flying with Philosophy in hand!

Athulf. What! was our philosophic friend so slow ? Sidroc. When I am flying for my life henceforth, Welcome be any ordinary load

Anchises on my back, if so ye will;

But spare me, Athulf, if you love your friend,
From bringing Wisdom with me.

Wulfstan.

Well, my Lords,

I will not cumber you again. Farewell!

I will return

Sidroc.
Wulfstan.

To such a sanctuary as that was once.

So tranquil were the elements there, 'tis said
That letters by the finger of the Priest
Writ in the ashes of the sacrifice,

Remained throughout the seasons uneffaced.
And Oxford now hath academic bowers
Sacred to many a Muse, where such as I

May write, though in a rough, tempestuous age,
What Time shall spare. Thither, my Lords, I'll go,
And there I'll chronicle your deeds. Farewell.

Athulf. Farewell, good Wulfstan; and I speak the word

With reverence and love; for gifts like yours
Are all unworthy to be wasted here.

But take this with you,-wild and unreclaimed
As doubtless must appear to yours my wit,
Yet you have scattered in that wilderness
Some seeds that will not perish. Fare you well.
Wulfstan. My Lord, your kindness which doth cause
these drops

Will pardon them.

Athulf.

God keep you in His peace!

If good you hear of us, you will rejoice ;
If evil, you are not so chilled by age,
But that you'll mourn.

Wulfstan. Long, long, my Lord, if long I live to mourn,-which may not be ! Tis true The sharpness of our pangs is less in age, As sounds are muffled by the falling snow; But true no less, that what age faintly feels It flings not off. I'll pray for your success.

[Exit.

Athulf. The miracle of the time is that old man! And kind as wise-my own eyes, too, are moistened-Yet he'll forget us ere the Sun go down.

Sidroc. Then I beseech you to forget him now, And tell me of your counsels and intents.

Athulf. Thus do I stand: My letters from the North
Advise me that the Queen's impatient heart
Brooks not prolonged captivity, and burns
To jeopardise herself, and with herself,
Leolf and all his power, in rash attempts
At premature escape. Meanwhile the Dane
Lurks in the Irish Sea, till civil strife,
The needfullest resources draining last,
Disarms the seabord, and, as well may hap,
Disables us within. My army here

Frets at the Pope's anathema. This pause
Disheartens it besides, and I am blamed,

As though I lingered here through lack of heart.
There is a fortitude in standing still

Which leaders know, but they that follow, never.
Daily I hear ten thousand tongues cry out
'Forward to London,' and I stir not.

Still

I must not stand upon this strength too long,
And truth to say, the levies that come now
Are scarcely worth the waiting for. That bann
Dispersed them on their way. All which revolved
I meditate to make a sudden march,

And seize the Tower by night.

Sidroc.

I am with you there.

F

The more, that we have friends within the walls.
That wily wench who carried in your letters
Remains behind, and unsuspected still.

Athulf. Moreover, she hath with her store of gold.

SCENE II.-London. An Apartment in the Tower.

DUNSTAN and GURMO.

Dunstan. Whence com'st thou? From the King? Is he awake?

Are changed too seldom. Once an hour henceforth Let them be changed, and ever as they change

Let drums and trumpets sound.

Gurmo.

Her Majesty

Has waited long. Likewise the Primate.
Dunstan.

Whew!
I had forgotten them. Conduct them hither.

[Exit GURMO.

The fear, but not the fact, of death . . . if this,
This only should suffice,-why then my soul
Should find a free deliverance to the work,
And after, hold its state more cheerfully.
If not, the darkness of the mortal deed
Shall yet be kindled by a light divine.

Enter the QUEEN MOTHER and ODO.

Content you, Madam. Let me hear no more.
You have another and a better son.

Though this should not deserve to reign nor live,-
As he is truly dead in his offence