But with his people's freedom. We therefore fight Yea, I speak truly, from my inmost soul, I'd rather have a thousand honest men Who know their arms, whose hearts go with their hands, That boast of foreign rapine. Arise, O God, and help us! Confound and scatter these Thine enemies, Alice. SCENE III.-Thomas Hatfield's cottage. Discovers ALICE sitting sewing by her infant's cradle. Hush, baby, hush. Sleep on, my little innocent boy; thou wilt never again have dreams so fair, and smiles so pure as thou hast now. Life's a sad load when it's cast in troublous times, and take it when you will, it's best at its beginning. Ah, my Thomas, whom I have loved so long and so fondly, I must give thee up. O Lord, support my sinking heart, strengthen me for this great trial; according to the good wherewith Thou hast blessed me, so be my help, Lord, when Thou dost ask it again. (Enter THOMAS HATFIELD and WILL CORITON.) Alice (rising). Is the time come, Thomas? Hatfield. Ay, my girl; Will brings me word to leave for Warwickshire to-night. Alice. Alas, alas, my darling, how shall I let thee go? Hatfield. (Throws herself into his arms.) O, my dear wife, so fair, so true, and I must leave thee! God help thee, dearest one. (Kisses her.) Nay, do not weep so, wife, I must keep up heart, and thy tears unman me. 'Tis doing God's will to go, my girl, and if one falls in that way, and on that service, one does not fall amiss. Alice (pointing to the babe). Kiss him, my husband; he may never know a father's love. Hatfield. (Hatfield stoops and kisses the child.) God bless and keep thee, darling; if we meet no more in this life, we'll meet in heaven. Farewell, until we meet again, where'er it be ! Alice. (Folds her to his breast and kisses her.) Farewell, my brave one; my heart's own dearest one, farewell! (She sinks weeping upon his shoulder; he puts her gently down, and hastens out, followed by Will Coriton.) Will Coriton. I never felt thankful before that I was a bachelor; I can fight without any of these drawbacks. SCENE IV. A tent in the King's camp at Edgehill. Discovers HENRY SPENCER, Earl of Sunderland, writing. Enter LORD FALKLAND. Sunderland. Welcome, my good friend, I'm glad you've come. There's so little comfort in this sorry business that one welcomes a friend, even though it be but to make moan over our mutual misery. I've just ended a letter to my wife, for in meeting yonder fellows to-morrow, one may get what will make us not need pen more. Falkland. Ay, Harry Spencer, and for my part I care not how soon we join battle. I'm weary of the whole business. But I trust that a victory to-morrow will end the matter, and bring our enemies to their knees. Sunderland. Don't be too sure of that. When Englishman's matched against Englishman the contest's apt to be long, and the issue doubtful. For my part, were it not for honour, I would not be here at all. I like neither the king nor his company. Such a ribald, bawdy, popish crowd as we have here I never set foot among before. I've much ado to stomach the discontent I meet with daily, and have had handsome occasion to retire, but honour stops the way; for unless a man draw sword on one side or the other, it will be said one is afraid to fight. I only wish honour had buckled on my harness in better company. Falkland. I'm afraid the king is no wiser after all he has gone through. The queen and her jesuitical crew have his ear. I tell thee what, Harry Spencer, those rebels have reason on their side. Sunderland. Doubtless they have grievances enough, but that's no reason to justify them in taking up arms against their king. We must beat their weapons out of their hands before we may listen to them. Falkland. Well, if to-morrow do not decide in the king's favour, I trust I shall be set free of these troubles for ever. My heart is sad at having to harden itself against men of its own race; it is a sore pass to draw sword on Englishmen. Sunderland. Ay, it's not a pleasant thing to have to knock one's neighbours about the head; but if they will go beyond bounds they must be beaten back again. However, I'd rather live through it myself, I've a wife I don't want to leave just yet, and a few more things beside, that tie me to life; but if I must bite the dust, why so it will be, and there's an end on't. Come, let us take a walk in the night-air, and then try to get some sleep. (Exeunt.) SCENE V.-Edgehill. Before the King's tent. KING CHARLES I., PRINCE RUPERT, EARL OF LINDSAY, EARL of Sunderland, LORD FALKLAND, and other officers. King Charles. If this day but shine prosperous to us, gentlemen, The foe's in sight; your king is both your cause, To all my subjects. Now the best encouragement That I can give you is, come life or death Your king will bear you company, and keep (Exeunt.) SCENE VI.-Edgehill. Another part of the field. Discovers a part of the King's army in battle array, led by the EARL OF LINDSAY. Enter LORD FALKLAND and the EARL OF SUNDERLAND. Lord Falkland. Lord Lindsay, we've come to put ourselves under your orders. Can you find place for us, where we shall have a chance at the outset of trying the temper of our swords on yonder fellows' crowns? Lord Lindsay. You are heartily welcome, gentlemen. Take charge of the first line with my son Willoughby there. Since the Prince has carried off the day against me, and we have to yield up our vantage ground to please him, I promise you that you shall look into your foes' faces in half an hour. O Lord, Thou know'st how busy I must be this day. If I forget Thee, do not forget me. March on, boys! (Exeunt LINDSAY, FLKALAND, etc.) SCENE VII.-A street in Keinton. Enter PRINCE RUPERT with his cavalry charging up the street, and HAMPDEN and THOMAS HATFIELD at the head of the green coats advancing against them. After a sharp skirmish RUPERT and his men retreat, firing as they fall back. HATFIELD is struck by a ball and falls from his horse. Hampden. What, Thomas, wounded! Forward, men, and clear the street of them! (He dismounts, and lifts Hatfield's head upon his knee.) |