save him, from a mingled feeling of compassion and of pique-at her intercession in his favour having been disregarded by the King of the Elves, her husband—commissions Mayflower, one of her attendant spirits, to inform Alice in a dream of Ulf's danger, and of the manner in which she may rescue him. The second and third scenes introduce us, respectively, to the Saxon and the Danish camp-contrasting the calm, wise, and statesmanlike bearing of the Saxons, with the rude, undisciplined, careless, but chivalrous deportment of the Northmen, energy itself in action but listless in repose. In the former of these scenes Godwin is examined by Alfred, who determines to visit the Danish camp in person and ascertain with his own eyes the chances of success in an attempt to retaliate. In the latter, Guthrum, the Danish King, is informed by Ubbo of his having captured Alice, and that she had spoken of Alfred; he sends for her to inform himself more minutely concerning Alfred's appearance and stature, in order that he may recognise him in combat. Meanwhile his wife, Eduna, communicates to him a dream of evil omen, the narrative of which, with the examination of Alice by the royal pair, occupies the fourth scene. I quote the opening of it :

Ed. The bell had then told one

Methought I stood on Hecla's icy top;

The Northern winds swept by, and roared as loud

As doth the Maelstrom struggling to get free

From some gigantic frost; upon the winds

Came, scatter'd past, spirits that shrieked and moaned,

Huddled together, or alone in woe:—

'Who's that?' quoth I, Who rides the whirlwind there?'
For I beheld a spirit all in arms,

Who madly seemed to strive against the blast;
Upon his helm there streamed a meteor wild,
And in his hand he reared a blasted pine;
A moment, and no more, they seemed to fight
With equal force-'I'm Odin!' shouted he-
Then, driven backwards by the storm, he fell.
'Twas then he shouted twice on thee, my lord!
He called thee recreant, and bade thee turn
And help him in that plight,-you did not come,
And he was hurl'd into dark Hecla's pit.

Guthr. It is a damned lie, it cannot be-
He call'd me recreant, yet I came not? Tush!
Some cursed spirit made thee dream this thing.
I fear not Odin's self, invulnerable-

I'd fight him to the death!

Ed.

Remember 'twas a dream.

Offend him not!

-A sentiment which those familiar with the Scandinavian Sagas will recognise as by no means an uncommon one among the rough Northern Vikingr, who treated their gods occasionally with such little ceremony, such levity and even contempt, that one ceases to wonder that chains so light should have fallen off so readily when a truer and profounder faith presented itself to their apprehension.

The characters of Guthrum and Eduna are contrasted throughout with those of Alfred and Alice, the types of the Saxon as they are of the Danish life—of a society, that is to say, in the cradle, as contrasted with one old, comparatively, in years and civilization. Guthrum represents the genuine Northman, frank, generous, impulsive, fierce to man, gentleness itself to woman; Eduna the woman of all ages in her sweetness and tenderness, but with the startling under-tone of energy and decision of the daughters of Scandinavia when roused to action. She is very young-younger than Alice both in years and mind, while this is compensated for by the habits of authority which marriage and a more free and independent life have given her.

Alice, in the mean while, is in Ubbo's power, and, passing over a scene or two of minor interest, we have an interview between them in which Ubbo endeavours first to persuade and then to terrify her into compliance with his lawless wishes. She acknowledges that she loves another, thus occasioning a fierce struggle in the mind of Ubbo, a bold but not a bad or an ungenerous man, pitying her in spite of himself, but wounded in his self-love and racked with jealousy. He spares her-and the scene changes to a solemn festival in the tent of Guthrum; various unpropitious omens are recounted, and consternation spreads through the assembly. Ubbo takes his resolution, and, rising up, devotes Alice as a propitiatory sacrifice to Odin, after the usage of the Northmen, in such exigencies, to bestow upon the gods whatever they held most precious,

"She shall die pure as melts the morning snow,

And so farewell, cold Alice!"

The tent is shaken by a blast of wind; the High Priest accepts the offering, declares the satisfaction of Odin, and confidence is restored. At this juncture Alfred arrives, disguised as a Saxon harper, and sings before the Danes; Alice's description enables Guthrum to recognise him, which he does in a tumult of generous exultation :

:

"Here, keep this golden chain-I guess him well,
He is so big o' bone, and yonder scar

Looks nobler than his crown.-A word, Sir Scald !

I know you, and you're safe.-A noble foe!

I can scarce keep from laughing with delight

Yes! I could give him all that I possess,

So he would fight me now.-Here, take my sword!

It is a gift"

when he is interrupted by a Danish minstrel, envious of his rival's success, who strikes in with a war-song in memory of Eduna's father, "Sewold the

Proud," ending with a denunciation of the intruding Saxon-who would assuredly have been torn to pieces but for Guthrum's interposition,—

"Back, madmen! he's our guest. Here, Sedrock, Ubbo!

Do you conduct this noble forth the camp.

I must content myself with a brief summary of the Second. It opens with the preparations for the sacrifice, on the evening of the same day. Alice is decked out by the fair hands of Eduna; her piety and resignation make the deepest impression on Eduna's mind, already predisposed by her dream to expect the fall of Odin. Eduna attempts to comfort her,—she has never as yet known sorrow, and does not know how to set about the work of consolation. Ubbo's mind in the mean while fluctuates between patriotism and love in a chaos of contending passions-he insists on Alice's being slain at onceSedrock requires the observance of the law that the victim shall bleed to death-Ubbo is obstinate, and they part in anger. In a succeeding scene Eduna describes to her husband the appearance of Alice as she slept, dreaming of heaven, after sobbing herself to sleep, and her converse after waking,— "She told me all;

And as she spoke, her eyes led captive mine,-
Her voice was low, and thrill'd me to the bone;
She seem'd not of the earth, for I felt awed,-
She ceased and all was silence, whilst I sat
Like one, who, long entranced by melody,
Feels still the music echo in the soul,
Though sound has died away."

-But Guthrum listens carelessly-little interested, and solely through the impression made on Eduna. She is deeply in earnest, and this conversation with Alice is another link in the chain which ultimately attaches her to Christianity.

The hour of sacrifice at last arrives,-all is in harmony with it-the sunset gloom-the advance of the procession, the lights appearing and disappearing through the trees-and the wild burden of the Hymn to Odin, filling the grove with song." Alice is presented at the altar by Sedrock, and accepted by the High Priest-the hymn of invocation is resumed-the hollow murmur that rises moaning around them, and the lambent flames playing on the spears of the Danes, attest the presence of the deity-the hymn suddenly ceases—a profound silence ensues, and all is ready.

"H. Priest. Take off these garlands-they but hide her neck,
And now are useless; cut her hair away-

It is too long and cumbers much my arm.
Bring me the knife."

-But at this moment Ubbo rushes in, dashes him back, and seizes the knife

"Here, Odin, God! I offer thee myself,

As well as this poor child. Accept the gift!"

--when she is saved by a sudden attack of the Saxons, headed by the Earl of Kent and guided by Godwin; Godwin is killed by Ubbo, and, the latter being forced away in the combat, Alice is left on the field unheeded by the victors till recognised by a Saxon soldier from her own village, who places her under the care of an aged hermit, Dunstan, a dweller in the neighbourhood. The closing scene of the Act, between Dunstan and a wounded soldier, his guest, and their evening converse, interrupted by the arrival of Alice, is a relief after the hurry and excitement of the preceding scenes.

The Third Act opens with the morning of the third day—that of the Battle promised by Alfred at the festival, rife with the fate of England—and that of All Saints or Hallow-e'en, fraught, as I have already intimated, with that of Ulf and Alice. I quote the whole of the opening scene, in which Guthrum arms himself in his tent :

"Guthr. Alfred has kept his word.-This strap is weak; You'll find another in yon broken helm.

You saw the Saxons then-do they come on?

Attendant. They line the western range of hills, my lord.
Guthr. Do they give promise of a tough day's game?
Att. So promising a sight I have not seen

For near a year or more.

Guthr.

I am right glad.

Take down my father's sword-look! there it hangs ;
Wipe off the dust, for it must serve to-day.

Att. I had half a mind, my liege! to crack the scull
Of yonder Saxon scald, who bore away

The sword you used so long-but that I thought
It might displease you.

Saucy knave!

Guthr.
Look! here's a speck of rust upon my shield-
What sigh was that? Eduna! are you here?

Ed. I have been here since you began to arm;
Your wife is quite forgotten when you talk
Of how the war comes on.

Guthr.
Sweet one, to-day
Each time I strike a Saxon to the ground
I will remember thee,-'twill nerve my arm.

Ed. The strongest arm is mortal and can die;
I scarcely think you know it. Give me here
The sword you're cleaning-give it me, I say!
It is familiar, though my hand looks small

[To the Attendant.

Upon so large a hilt. (Bending it.) 'Tis right good steel!
See, husband! I can tell when steel is good.

Guthr. No marvel, sweet! thou art old Sewold's daughter,

And yet the sword and you are strangely matched.

-But I forget the foe-Bring me my helm!

Ed. Here I'll brace on your sword. Be trusty, friend!

Now look'st thou well, and like the God of war;

[Addressing the sword.

I love to kiss thee so! (Embracing him.) Oh, my dear husband!
Guthr. How now, Eduna! you are not in tears?
That were an evil omen.

Ed.

'Twas but a moment's weakness-forget it, Guthrum!

No, no-'tis nothing!

Enter SEDROCK.

Sedr. My lord, my lord! I thought you were abroad,
But saw your horse champing his bit without-
Mount, mount! the foe have gained the vantage-ground,
And you are waited for.

Ed.

My heart misgives me."

[Exeunt.

One cannot but feel deep sympathy with poor Eduna, in her anxiety to identify herself with her husband's feelings and her but partial success-in her longing for a kind word of notice-her snatching the sword from the attendant and bending the heavy steel, and especially the volume of feeling implied in those simple words, "Be trusty, friend!"-while he, passionately attached to her as he is, but looking to the fight as the very breath of his nostrils, a pastime and a joy-never dreaming of defeat and unsharing in her prescient apprehensions of evil-hurries out at last without one word of farewell.

But Eduna is soon to be roused to shew herself indeed "old Sewold's daughter." In the second scene, Alfred addresses the Saxon army in a hero's speech, short, pithy, and to the purpose; the mêlée commences-he crosses swords with Guthrum, but they are parted by the press-the battle turns against the Danes-they give ground; Guthrum's fears are roused for Eduna, and he sends a messenger to secure her safety, but all the fire and impetuosity latent in her character rise up at once,

"Ed. Arm the old men-think you we'll idly rest

And watch the battle lost? Fetch me a sword!

I feel my Norse blood boiling in my veins—

I'll die with Guthrum, for I know he'll die

Ere he deserts the fight.

Ed. Obey me, Sir! I am your mistress now

Go bid each maiden who doth love her sire,

Each wife who loves her husband as she ought,

Each matron who hath sons, each white-haired man

Even the widows and the orphans tell

I'll lead them now, to die with all they love!

Said you the battle was quite lost?
Mess.

Ed. Speak out, and tell the truth.
Mess.

I fear

I fear me, yes.

Ed. Away, begone! and do as I command.
Oh God of Alice, thou art in the fight!
Valhalla's halls to-day will be right full
Of noble guests,—And I will pour the mead
For my own husband, when he feasts with gods!

[Exit Messenger. [Looking towards the battle.

[Exit."

---Meanwhile all is not yet lost-Ubbo and Sedrock meet-a few rapid words of reconciliation pass between them-Ubbo rallies the Danes, and the battle rages again—but the master-spirit of the Northmen has been quelled; Eduna is discovered mortally wounded by an arrow-she dies, confessing herself in broken accents a Christian; Guthrum, after a desperate resistance, is taken prisoner-the Danes fly, and England is free. I must again quote part of the scene of Eduna's death :

"Ed. Give me your hand! while it doth rest 'twixt mine, I am very happy. This is not your blood?

Guthr. It is indeed, indeed! your blood is mine.

Ed. Grieve not for me, dear friend! ('twill soon be past—) 'Tis but a shallow wound-see! I can rise

[Attempting to rise. [Sinking back.

[Drawing his hand from hers, and putting it to his brow.