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Read Ebook: Lords and Lovers and Other Dramas by Dargan Olive Tilford
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Ebook has 138 lines and 121790 words, and 3 pages
LORDS AND LOVERS:
PART I 1
PART II 71
THE SHEPHERD 135
THE SIEGE 207
LORDS AND LOVERS
PART I
EARL OF ALBEMARLE
EARL OF PEMBROKE
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
BISHOP OF WINCHESTER
CARDINAL GUALO
SIR ROLAND DE BORN
FRIAR SEBASTIAN
LORD GOLY
LORD DE VERE
ACT I
Hear, boys, hear! O, hear our captain call! We'll away, boys, away! For the love o' the sword and the love o' the money, We'll on to the wars, my brave fellows all, An they take our Jack they will leave our Johnny. Away, boys, away!
They know 'tis death--they know 'tis death. And what Is that? We are all guests in God's great house, The Universe, and Death is but his page To show us to the chamber where we sleep. What though the bed be dust, to wake is sure; Not birds but angels flutter at the eaves And call us, singing.
Gersa, what success?
If this, my careful stratagem, should fail, God help the friendless boy on England's throne! Now Pembroke's noble strength must e'en to coffin; And Isabel across the sea cares not, But happier in a gentler husband's love Takes little thought of John of England's heir, Who has his father's beauty, not his heart,-- Just so much of that proud and guilty blood As makes him kingly nor corrupts his own. ... But, come, my soul! Prepare thee for a world Of rarer breath, lest thou too rudely go To th' high conclave of spirits. Father?
O Margaret! Not one dear word? Not one?
My lady! Is this, too, for the king?
Good father, when two souls have kissed so close They in each other lose the form of self, And neither body knows its own again, Wouldst join them mortally, that being one They can not go amiss?
ACT II
O braw, braw knight, come down the glen And awa' to kirk wi' me! And Heaven send us seven stout sons To fight for our king on the sea!
Good Orson, I am sorry if your knees are stiff. You may have the unguent that Sir Roland brought me from Palestine. Go, Eldra, and get it for him.
O, lady, let the roses blow In thy pale cheeks for this-- That I may to that garden go And pluck them with a kiss.
My roses are all plucked, she said, No more shall ever grow, For cold is he and low his head Whose dear love made them blow.
Then lay she down where slept her lord Upon the silver heather; Then sighed the knight, nor said he word, But left the twa together.
And know my name and place are worthy yours, Though you should be a princess, as I think. See, here's a jewel in this belt. I dare To part with it, though wise men say my life Is safe but when I wear it. 'Tis the stone Of Wales, and blessed by magic of the seers That in that country dwell.
Sovereign liege, Count it not boldness if I dare to guess Your presence here. You come, my lord, to find This precious property. I know 'tis prized, And hold me happy that it met my eye Before another's.
What holy gloom comes here? Friar Sebastian, One time the counsellor to Isabel. Do you not know me, father?
I'll see The earl of Kent. Bid him come in.
'Tis cruel, But right they should be punished who forgot A king to please themselves.
ACT IV
Ope, throw ope thy bower door, And come thou forth, my sweet! 'Tis morn, the watch of love is o'er, And mating hearts should meet. The stars have fled and left their grace In every blossom's lifted face, And gentle shadows fleck the light With tender memories of the night. Sweet, there's a door to every shrine; Wilt thou, as morning, open thine? Hark! now the lark has met the clouds, And rains his sheer melodious flood; The green earth casts her mystic shrouds To meet the flaming god! Alas, for me there is no dawn If Glaia come not with the sun.
LORDS AND LOVERS
PART II
ACT I
Ho, Autumn time, O, Autumn time, When every wind is jolly, And pip and pear drop in their prime For tooth of fun and folly!
When Hobnail's store is ripe for raids, And grapes go to the pressing, And apple checks are like a maid's When Jack would be a-kissing!
Ho, hips and haws for vagabonds, With russets for who'll dare, And hazels by the meadow ponds, Brown-sweet for barefoot's fare!
The pettychaps beflit the larch, The rocks from barn-top scold, And summer rogues are on the march For quarters 'gainst the cold.
Ho, Autumn time, O, Autumn time! When every wind is jolly, And pip and pear drop in their prime For tooth of fun and folly!
See, brother! I would ope no book less pure Than these large eyes. Ah, me, was ever soul So full of earth as mine? I can love nothing But woods and streams, and these unspeaking things That reasonless may build no dream of God. My Henry, why this fear that if I go From this dear world I'll come to it no more?
Listen, my lords,--my gracious court,--to you I make appeal. Is any here who holds Me in such wintry and removed regard He would not grant my heart its choice in love?
This silence warrants you to woo and speed.
ACT II
She did not call. I'll watch all night. 'Twill be No added task since there's no sleep for me. My Margaret is safe. They dare not touch A princess of the blood. But I am down. 'Tis said and sung there is no greater pain Than wrenches Fortune's nurslings when she flies. Not so. False lady of the wheel, take all! But O, to see my king yield to the wolves Now fang-close to his heart--there is my death!
Now let the world go on, I'll rest me here. Why should I keep my hand proud on the helm, War with the unsated surge, nor know the pause That is the spirit's silent growing time? Ah, Margaret, how little will content thee? No more nor less than love and poorest me?
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