The Tragedy of Arthur: A Novel Read online

  And Uter then grew bold to slay the earl,

  Conspired to kill, like David of the Jews,33

  In this alone resembling royalty.

  That he did condescend to count the countess

  Queen doth shade34 this Arthur no more king

  Than dressing meat blown35 full with clouds of flies

  Give th’relish to’t fit for royal feast.

  Thus Uter was o’erthrown by Saxon arms

  For God would straight again the fracted36 line:

  He grants each king his line, each line its king.

  If Arthur reigns, we violate God’s law.

  Wouldst thou condemn each Scot and Pict to hell?

  Dead Uter’s sister Anne, your queen, my dam,

  Does give to you, O Father, from the grave,

  This lawful seat and pleads you make your claim.

  CONRANUS

  But soft! Dead Uter was your uncle twice.

  My Queen of Scotland mourns a brother’s death.

  Too cruel to her your threats to snatch his crown

  And rain down death upon her brother’s boy.

  MORDRED

  What speaks my aunt in this?37 Whence voice has

  she?

  Or you, enfeoffèd38 uncle, vassal liege

  To Loth my father. Scots are sworn to Picts:

  Conranus king is king by king of Pictland,

  Though he wait silent by with Pictish grace.—

  [To Loth] My father, stand and bellow that your voice

  Ungently shout down London’s stolen walls

  Until soft Arthur cap his beaten ears,

  And yield to God and you his purse-picked crown.

  LOTH

  [Low mumbles] An if our call’s not heard?

  MORDRED

  Speak out, speak out.

  I hear but coughing.

  LOTH

  If our call’s not heard?

  MORDRED

  Then let them hear the sounds of righteous war

  ’Til English ears do note your martial voice.

  LOTH

  Too forward39 is this talk of making war.

  MORDRED

  Then if you would forslow ’til lusty strength

  Returns again in you, our guile will serve:

  Send embassage to England with our cause,

  And privy40 order to the Saxon camp:

  Clandestinely we’ll spur them to our use

  And prompt them to press south without delay,

  Then we, false-troubled41 of the English need,

  May have occasion t’offer them our aid

  If they but42 plant the crown where God would have’t.

  When you, new British king, from London rules,

  Then we and our new English vassalage43

  As one expel the Saxon from our shores.

  CONRANUS

  My brother-king, dare scorn my peace-soft heart,

  Or say old men do always fly from toil.

  But I did fight beside you at Iona.

  My smoking44 blade did cleave Norwegian skulls.

  Take heed of word from lover45 such as this:

  Hot war, so fleetingly combusted up,

  Doth hardly46 snuff itself back down again.

  And look! Our arms have built for us high walls!

  Sit circummured47 behind the winding Tweed,

  Our uplands48 scoff at foemen’s bow and ax.

  Say, Loth, what matter is that lack-brain prince

  Who weens49 to term himself all Britain’s king?

  MORDRED

  What peace has man e’er joyed but paid in blood?

  What dream wouldst thou my father dream abed,

  Whilst puppy50 Arthur, king of laystalls,51 hopes

  To trim aside two-thirds my promised birth?

  LOTH

  No more. I have no appetite to war.

  Send embassy and vouch that Arthur’s king.

  MORDRED

  But not of Britain.

  LOTH

  England then, your will.

  MORDRED

  I will discharge it to your terms precise.

  LOTH

  Duke Mordred, heir, be satisfied.

  MORDRED

  I am.

  Full correspondence to my lord’s desires

  Is satisfaction to your loving son.

  LOTH

  Embrace me then your uncle-king of Scotland.

  MORDRED

  With fullest heart.

  CONRANUS

  It glads me.

  [They embrace] Loth swoons

  MORDRED

  Physic,52 wine!

  A cup, a drench53 of wine! [To Loth] How do you, sir?—

  [To servant] You! See him to his chamber, I’ll anon.

  Exeunt [but Mordred and Calvan]

  Dear Calvan, brother, bearer of my trust.

  Two embassies will we dispatch. First, you.

  CALVAN

  How frame54 my tongue?

  MORDRED

  To words of amity.

  Ride to the Saxon force at York. Their chief,

  Flame-bearded Colgerne, takes your embassy.

  In York he swills and vows and kicks his dogs,

  And burns up offal to his red-eyed gods—

  The carrion fumes offending Christian sense55—

  And seizes not his vantage. Whet him on.

  In Mordred’s name give gold that he from York

  Drive out to waste all ’round with Saxon blade.

  But, brother, still our hands must clasp in darkness.

  Teach Colgerne that our love blooms best in shade.

  CALVAN

  Such toadstool56 love I’ll passioning derive.57

  Exit Calvan

  Enter messenger

  MORDRED

  What messenger is there?

  ALEXANDER

  My lord.

  MORDRED

  Thy name?

  ALEXANDER

  ’Tis Alexander, Duke. I come from Wick.

  MORDRED

  Great Alexander boasts a comely face.

  Thou hast an air of gentle-seeming manners.

  ALEXANDER

  It please your grace, my mother taught me well.

  MORDRED

  Then come. We must needs teach thee new to speak

  In terms of harsh defiance and contempt.

  Exeunt

  [ACT I,] SCENE IV1

  [Location: The Tower of London]

  Enter Gloucester, Bishop of Caerleon, Somerset, Norfolk, Cumbria, Kent, Derby

  KENT

  How? Are you then protector of the realm?

  GLOUCESTER

  With patience, lords, but for a single day.

  The morrow when, at your hand, Caerleon,

  Prince Arthur is in London’s abbey blest,

  He will from flexure2 rise your perfect3 king,

  And will no more require protector’s aid.

  Today I rate4 the puissance5 of our arms,

  For after morrow hie we back to war.

  Prince Arthur wants the numbers, man and beast,

  To make account of all your mighty ranks.

  How stand your noble lance and common pike?

  SOMERSET

  But soft, Lord Gloucester waits upon our haste,

  Foresees6 we will obey with no complaint.

  Yet English barons joy long-customed rights

  And freely choose ere kneel to any king,

  Though he be Uter’s son or no.

  GLOUCESTER

  Or no?

  NORFOLK

  To be black Uter’s son makes not an heir.

  By such a stamp7 ten thousand British kings

  Do dance a-maypole, yoke the ox to coulter,8

  Or skink9 the wine at table for my thirst,

  Though none so like their sire as Arthur be,

  Who with his mawks on beef and ling10 doth dine,

  Who’d ’change all England for St. George’s field.11

&nb
sp; SOMERSET

  He’s born on George’s day, so ’tis like home.12,13

  GLOUCESTER

  Ignoble, rude and slanderous babble, lords

  Ill suits the love that’s due your sovereign prince.

  NORFOLK

  Come morrow, Gloucester, what names you the king?

  GLOUCESTER

  The king will have me England’s seneschal.

  SOMERSET

  You’ll hold the keys to all the postern gates14

  Until the midnight king doth steal the guard.

  GLOUCESTER

  These hare-brained comments will find quittance, Dukes.

  CUMBRIA

  But who makes doubt of Arthur’s godly right?

  These arms embraced King Uter as he died,

  A man twice me, twice thee, twice any lord.

  Beneath the walls of York he cried to me,

  “Prince Arthur now will be your lawful king.”

  KENT

  O, tender-feeling Cumbria, ’tis well,

  But you have not seen Arthur sith his youth

  When that boy sprouted no more manly beard

  Than trims a raspberry15 in August heat.

  SOMERSET

  And sith his beard has grown, you’ll find no man

  Hath seen the prince’s thumbs.16

  KENT

  So long as that?17

  SOMERSET

  Renowned like to a serpent or a tailor’s.18

  GLOUCESTER

  What ancient barons’ rights are these t’abuse?

  NORFOLK

  These ten and seven summers hath the prince

  In Gloucestershire reclined, whence rumor tells

  That Arthur’s luxury-amazed,19 but king

  Of milking maids, and each new queen he leads

  By kecksie flourish20 to a clover bed.

  No continence21 hath he and none dare bar

  The boy from exercising his mad lusts.

  SOMERSET

  The father’s passions storm within the son!

  Will abbey words becalm the prince’s rage,

  The ire descried22 by those who should speak love,

  That Arthur soars to fury when but touched,

  Doth strike a man of noble birth for spite,

  And spends his words of love upon a cook?

  GLOUCESTER

  Thus tales lead beasts, and heads too willing follow23

  The boy is stern for war. Come tilt with him.

  First pass he’ll lay you on your plated back

  Like to a flea within a walnut-shell.

  He’ll lift great sword and drop it on your pate24

  With edge or flat or fig-ball pommel: choose.25

  In York will he course fast as rolling floods,

  As swift as you in thought may cross the globe.

  KENT

  Like to his father then he longs for war?

  The father’s war did steal the father’s life.

  The father’s son would match the father’s feat

  And on his feet march all of us to death,

  So son might set, like father, in the north.26

  Forever war, forever war, and on.

  Yet Saxons find war-stubbled York a prize

  And would content themselves in its embrace.

  This land’s o’er-marched, o’er-bled, o’er-wearied o’war,

  Yet still Prince Arthur comes to wield a sword!

  CUMBRIA

  What danger cowards so the southern Kent

  While Cumbria is gripped from north and east?

  KENT

  I am not wished to hear thy slanders, cur!

  CUMBRIA

  Nor Saxons wished to peace by Kent’s desires!

  CAERLEON

  Enough vain heat! My lords of England, peace!27

  Enter Alexander

  GLOUCESTER

  What word hast thou, sirrah?28

  ALEXANDER

  No king is here.

  GLOUCESTER

  He comes anon. Again: what word? Make haste.

  ALEXANDER

  My master bids me say: “No king is here.”

  NORFOLK

  What master, fool?

  ALEXANDER

  Which is the lord protector?

  GLOUCESTER

  Thou clog’st29 him, stamm’ring chough.30

  ALEXANDER

  He greets you thus:

  “Vice-regent for unrightful, sneaking prince.”

  GLOUCESTER

  What master lays such words upon thy tongue?

  ALEXANDER

  Grant leave, ye English nobles, I my words

  May unconstrained display, as charged by Loth,

  Great Pictish king, and Mordred, Duke of Rothesay.

  GLOUCESTER

  Thou tarried long for license, messenger,

  By now is absolution pertinent.31

  Yet doubt32 no moody welcome here. Proceed.