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!"