The Battle of Hexham Part 10

What hast thou suffer'd, sweet!--for me to cause-- And are our children----?

_Adeline._ Well, and in safety.

_Gondi._ And, to leave them too!

_Adeline._ Nay, pr'ythee, now, no more of this:-- Blot from thy memory all former sorrow:-- Or, if we think on't, be it at some moment, When calm content smiles round our happy board.

And, trust me, now, I think our storms are over:-- For, on my way, I learn, the House of York Has now sent forth free pardon to all those, Who, long attach'd to the Lancastrian party, Have not engaged in their late enterprise.

_Gondi._ Blessed chance, That now constrain'd me to inaction! Adeline!

Once more to hold thee! to return to happiness-- To see our children!--

_Enter FIRST ROBBER._

How now! What's the matter?

_1 Rob._ Marry, the matter is, with the oaf in the cellar; the fool shakes as though he were in an ague; we may e'en turn him adrift any how, for he will no how turn to our profit. He's cowardly and poor; he can neither rob, nor be robbed.

_Adeline._ Oh! 'tis my man: I pray you conduct him hither.

_1 Rob._ I'll trundle him in; but you will make nothing of him. I have been trying to talk him into service, and make him fit for our party; but there are some manner of men 'tis impossible to work any good upon.

[_Exit._

_Adeline._ Poor simpleton! 'tis Gregory, who, in pure zeal, and honest attachment, has followed me.

_Enter GREGORY._

_Gregory._ Mercy on us! this is the great c.o.c.k captain of the whole brood of banditti! 'Tis all over! and I have been shut up, these two hours, like a calf for killing. Lord! lord! if calves did but know the reason for their being stalled, as I have been, they'd so fall away with fear, that veal would not be worth the taking to market.

_Gondi._ Why, how now, man?

_Gregory._ Oh lud! I am a poor fellow, sir; that shall be a longtime getting rich, and would fain not die till I am so. Take my life, sir, and you take all;--I carry it about me, as a snail does his house:--and, truly, sir, you'll find that time has a mortgage upon it of forty-two years, and the furniture, of late, is so worn with ill usage, that the remainder of the lease is not worth your acceptance:--if, sweet, n.o.ble, sir, you would but----

[_During this Speech, GREGORY has been gradually raising his Eyes from the Ground, till he fixes them on GONDIBERT'S Face._

Eh!--Oh!--O, the father!--No!--Yes--Oh lud--Oh lord!

_Gondi._ Why, dost not know me, Gregory?

_Gregory._ Huzza!--He's found! [_Capering._] Dear my lord, I never was happier since I was born, at the sight of you.

_Gondi._ Trust me, I think so, Gregory. Come, love; Let's in for calmer conference. Follow, good Gregory.

[_Exeunt ADELINE and GONDIBERT._

_Gregory._ Here's a simple change in a man's fortune! Now might I, when I say 'tis he--were it not as plain 'tis he as a nose is a nose--swear that my eyes were putting a lie in my mouth, in very spite of my teeth.--Oh, the quiet, comfortable days that I shall see again! Mercy on me! 'Tis enough to make a coward tremble, to think on the battles my valour has been put to. Nothing, now again, but old fare, old rubbing of spoons, and a cup of old sherry, behind the old pantry door, to comfort my nose, in a cold frosty morning.

SONG.

"Moderation and Alteration."

_In an old quiet parish, on a brown healthy old moor,_ _Stands my master's old gate, whose old threshold is wore_ _With many an old friend, who for liquor would roar,_ _And I uncork'd the old sherry--that I had tasted before._ _But it was in Moderation, &c._

_There I had an old quiet pantry, of the servants was the head;_ _And kept the key of the old cellar, and old plate, and chipp'd the brown bread._ _If an old barrel was missing, it was easily said,_ _That the very old beer was one morning found dead:--_ _But it was in Moderation, &c._

_But, we had a good old custom, when the week did begin,_ _To show, by my accounts, I had not wasted a pin;--_ _For my lord, tho' he was bountiful, thought waste was a sin;_ _And never would lay out much, but when my lady lay-in._ _But still it was Moderation._

_Good lack! good lack! how once Dame Fortune did frown!_ _I left my old quiet pantry, to trudge from town to town;_ _Worn quite off my legs, in search of thumps, bobs, and cracks on the crown,_ _I was fairly knock'd up, and very near foully knock'd down._ _But now there's an Alteration,_ _Oh! it's a wonderful Alteration!_

[_Exit._

SCENE IV.

_The Village._

_Enter MARGARET, LA VARENNE, and PRINCE._

_Marg._ The northern coast beset!

_La Var._ Close watch'd with enemies:--'twere too bold a risk, That way to seek the sea: then bend your course Thro' c.u.mberland, so please you.---- At Solway Frith, we have warm friends, to favour Your embarkation--Sailing, thence to Galloway, With all convenient speed, we march towards Edinburgh; And thitherward, I learn, the king has fled: Where, in the bosom of the Scottish court, You may in safety sojourn, till the succour Which n.o.ble Burgundy, warm in beauty's cause, Once more, no doubt, will lend, again shall plume The wing of majesty.

_Marg._ Then, let sharp injury Subdue base minds alone; its scalding spirit, Pour'd in a royal breast, will quicken vengeance.

Why, worthy Seneschal, there's hope in't still!

Holds it not likely, When our dispersed n.o.bility shall hear, We are again on foot, our royal standard Will be so flock'd with friends!---- Here comes the fellow, whom I told you of.

_Enter GONDIBERT, ADELINE, and GREGORY, behind._

Now, good friend, the news?

_Gondi._ Thus, as my spies inform me, madam:--Montague Has march'd right north; towards Dunstaburgh; hoping There to surprise your Majesty--

_Marg._ Let the fool on.-- This favours our intended march, through c.u.mberland.

What else?

_Gondi._ No more; but that some twenty, Or thereabout, of your dispersed soldiers Are fall'n into my power. I have ventured, Finding, that, here, the village is attach'd, In honest bonds of loyalty, to direct My men to march them hither: if your course Should need a secret guard, these few will serve, When more were dangerous.

_Marg._ Oh, true, true fellow!

Believe me, honest friend, of all the bolts, Which spiteful fortune hurls against my crown, None strike so deeply, as my poor ability Now to requite thy faith.

_Gondi._ The subject, madam, Who, in his poor endeavour, can relieve A sovereign from distress, they, who are loyal, Will pour down blessings on him; that requital Threefold o'erpays his services. But here, Heaven has, in pity of me, now pour'd balm Upon my bleeding sufferings.

_Marg._ What, my young warrior!

_Adeline._ A weak one, madam;--and a woman too.

Your pardon, madam, if, to seek a husband,-- Happy has been my search--more than the cause, Altho' my heart is warm in't--brought me hither.

_Gondi._ Your guard approaches, madam, and the villagers,