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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420982" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>King Stephen</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A FRAGMENT OF A TRAGEDY<br>ACT I.<br>SCENE I. Field of Battle.<br>Alarum. Enter King STEPHEN, Knights, and Soldiers.<br>Stephen. If shame can on a soldier's vein-swoll’n front<br>Spread deeper crimson than the battle's toil,<br>Blush in your casing helmets! for see, see!<br>Yonder my chivalry, my pride of war,<br>Wrench'd with an iron hand from firm array,<br>Are routed loose about the plashy meads,<br>Of honour forfeit. O that my known voice<br>Could reach your dastard ears, and fright you more!<br>Fly, cowards, fly! Glocester is at your backs!<br>Throw your slack bridles o'er the flurried manes, <br>Ply well the rowel with faint trembling heels,<br>Scampering to death at last!<br>First Knight. The enemy<br>Bears his flaunt standard close upon their rear.<br>Second Knight. Sure of a bloody prey, seeing the fens<br>Will swamp them girth-deep.<br>Stephen. Over head and ears,<br>No matter! 'Tis a gallant enemy;<br>How like a comet he goes streaming on.<br>But we must plague him in the flank, hey, friends?<br>We are well breathed, follow!<br>Enter Earl BALDWIN and Soldiers, as defeated.<br>Stephen. De Redvers!<br>What is the monstrous bugbear that can fright <br>Baldwin?<br>Baldwin. No scare-crow, but the fortunate star<br>Of boisterous Chester, whose fell truncheon now<br>Points level to the goal of victory.<br>This way he comes, and if you would maintain<br>Your person unaffronted by vile odds,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Take horse, my Lord.<br>Stephen. And which way spur for life?<br>Now I thank Heaven I am in the toils,<br>That soldiers may bear witness how my arm<br>Can burst the meshes. Not the eagle more<br>Loves to beat up against a tyrannous blast, <br>Than I to meet the torrent of my foes.<br>This is a brag, be 't so, but if I fall,<br>Carve it upon my 'scutcheon'd sepulchre.<br>On, fellow soldiers! Earl of Redvers, back!<br>Not twenty Earls of Chester shall brow-beat<br>The diadem. [Exeunt. Alarum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SCENE II. Another part of the Field.<br>Trumpets sounding a Victory. Enter GLOCESTER. Knights, and Forces.<br>Glocester. Now may we lift our bruised vizors up,<br>And take the flattering freshness of the air,<br>While the wide din of battle dies away<br>Into times past, yet to be echoed sure<br>In the silent pages of our chroniclers.<br>First Knight. Will Stephen's death be marked there, my good<br>Lord,<br>Or that we gave him lodging in yon towers?<br>Glocester. Fain would I know the great usurper's fate.<br>Enter two Captains severally.<br>First Captain. My Lord!<br>Second Captain. Most noble Earl!<br>First Captain. The King<br>Second Captain. The Empress greets<br>Glocester. What of the King?<br>First Captain. He sole and lone maintains <br>A hopeless bustle mid our swarming arms,<br>And with a nimble savageness attacks,<br>Escapes, makes fiercer onset, then anew<br>Eludes death, giving death to most that dare<br>Trespass within the circuit of his sword!<br>He must by this have fallen. Baldwin is taken;<br>And for the Duke of Bretagne, like a stag<br>He flies, for the Welsh beagles to hunt down.<br>God save the Empress!<br>Glocester. Now our dreaded Queen:<br>What message from her Highness?<br>Second Captain. Royal Maud <br>From the throng'd towers of Lincoln hath look'd down,<br>Like Pallas from the walls of Ilion,<br>And seen her enemies havock'd at her feet.<br>She greets most noble Glocester from her heart,<br>Intreating him, his captains, and brave knights,<br>To grace a banquet. The high city gates<br>Are envious which shall see your triumph pass;<br>The streets are full of music.<br>Enter Second Knight.<br>Glocester. Whence come you?<br>Second Knight. From Stephen, my good Prince, Stephen!<br>Stephen! <br>Glocester. Why do you make such echoing of his name?<br>Second Knight. Because I think, my lord, he is no man,<br>But a fierce demon, Anointed safe from wounds,<br>And misbaptized with a Christian name.<br>Glocester. A mighty soldier! Does he still hold out?<br>Second Knight. He shames our victory. His valour still<br>Keeps elbow-room amid our eager swords,<br>And holds our bladed falchions all aloof<br>His gleaming battle-axe being slaughter-sick,<br>Smote on the morion of a Flemish knight,<br>Broke short in his hand; upon the which he flung<br>The heft away with such a vengeful force,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It paunch'd the Earl of Chester's horse, who then<br>Spleen-hearted came in full career at him.<br>Glocester. Did no one take him at a vantage then?<br>Second Knight. Three then with tiger leap upon him flew,<br>Whom, with his sword swift-drawn and nimbly held,<br>He stung away again, and stood to breathe,<br>Smiling. Anon upon him rush'd once more<br>A throng of foes, and in this renew'd strife,<br>My sword met his and snapp'd off at the hilts. <br>Glocester. Come, lead me to this Mars and let us move<br>In silence, not insulting his sad doom<br>With clamorous trumpets. To the Empress bear<br>My salutation as befits the time.<br>[Exeunt GLOCESTER and Forces.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SCENE III. The Field of Battle. Enter STEPHEN unarmed.<br>Stephen. Another sword! And what if I could seize<br>One from Bellona's gleaming armoury,<br>Or choose the fairest of her sheaved spears!<br>Where are my enemies? Here, close at hand,<br>Here come the testy brood. O for a sword!<br>I'm faint a biting sword! A noble sword!<br>A hedge-stake or a ponderous stone to hurl<br>With brawny vengeance, like the labourer Cain.<br>Come on! Farewell my kingdom, and all hail<br>Thou superb, plum'd, and helmeted renown, <br>All hail I would not truck this brilliant day<br>To rule in Pylos with a Nestor's beard<br>Come on!<br>Enter DE KAIMS and Knights, &c.<br>De Kaims. Is 't madness, or a hunger after death,<br>That makes thee thus unarm'd throw taunts at us?<br>Yield, Stephen, or my sword's point dip in<br>'he gloomy current of a traitor's heart.<br>Stephen. Do it, De Kaims, I will not budge an inch.<br>De Kaims. Yes, of thy madness thou shalt take the meed.<br>Stephen. Darest thou?<br>De Kaims. How dare, against a man disarmed?<br>Stephen. What weapons has the lion but himself?<br>Come not near me, De Kaims, for by the price <br>Of all the glory I have won this day,<br>Being a king, I will not yield alive<br>To any but the second man of the realm,<br>Robert of Glocester.<br>De Kaims. Thou shalt vail to me.<br>Stephen. Shall I, when I have sworn against it, sir?<br>Thou think'st it brave to take a breathing king,<br>That, on a court-day bow'd to haughty Maud,<br>The awed presence-chamber may be bold<br>To whisper, there's the man who took alive <br>Stephen me prisoner. Certes, De Kaims,<br>The ambition is a noble one.<br>De Kaims. 'Tis true,<br>And, Stephen, I must compass it.<br>Stephen. No, no,<br>Do not tempt me to throttle you on the gorge,<br>Or with my gauntlet crush your hollow breast,<br>Just when your knighthood is grown ripe and full<br>For lordship.<br>A Soldier. Is an honest yeoman's spear<br>Of no use at a need? Take that.<br>Stephen. Ah, dastard!<br>De Kaims. What, you are vulnerable! my prisoner I<br>Stephen. No, not yet. I disclaim it, and demand<br>Death as a sovereign right unto a king<br>Who 'sdains to yield to any but his peer,<br>If not in title, yet in noble deeds,<br>The Earl of Glocester. Stab to the hilts, De Kaims,<br>For I will never by mean hands be led<br>From this so famous field. Do ye hear! Be quick!<br>[Trumpets. Enter the Earl of CHESTER and Knights.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SCENE IV. A Presence Chamber. Queen MAUD in a Chair of State, the<br>Earls of GLOCESTER and CHESTER, Lords, Attendants.<br>Maud. Glocester, no more: I will behold that Boulogne:<br>Set him before me. Not for the poor sake<br>Of regal pomp and a vain-glorious hour,<br>As thou with wary speech, yet near enough,<br>Hast hinted.<br>Glocester. Faithful counsel have I given ;<br>If wary, for your Highness' benefit.<br>Maud. The Heavens forbid that I should not think so,<br>For by thy valour have I won this realm,<br>Which by thy wisdom I will ever keep.<br>To sage advisers let me ever bend<br>'A meek attentive ear, so that they treat<br>Of the wide kingdom's rule and government,<br>Not trenching on our actions personal.<br>Advis'd, not school'd, I would be; and henceforth<br>Spoken to in clear, plain, and open terms,<br>Not side-ways sermon'd at.<br>Glocester. Then, in plain terms,<br>Once more for the fallen king<br>Maud. Your pardon, Brother,<br>I would no more of that; for, as I said,<br>‘Tis not for worldly pomp I wish to see<br>The rebel, but as dooming judge to give <br>A sentence something worthy of his guilt.<br>Glocester. If 't must be so, I'll bring him to your presence.<br>[Exit GLOCESTER,<br>Maud. A meaner summoner might do as well<br>My Lord of Chester, is 't true what I hear<br>Of Stephen of Boulogne, our prisoner,<br>That he, as a fit penance for his crimes,<br>Eats wholesome, sweet, and palatable food<br>Off Glocester's golden dishes drinks pure wine,<br>Lodgest soft?<br>Chester. More than that, my gracious Queen,<br>Has anger'd me. The noble Earl, methinks, <br>Full soldier as he is, and without peer<br>In counsel, dreams too much among his books.<br>It may read well, but sure 'tis out of date<br>To play the Alexander with Darius.<br>Maud. Truth! I think so. By Heavens it shall not last!<br>Chester. It would amaze your Highness now to mark<br>How Glocester overstrains his courtesy<br>To that crime-loving rebel, that Boulogne<br>Maud. That ingrate!<br>Chester. For whose vast ingratitude<br>To our late sovereign lord, your noble sire, <br>The generous Earl condoles in his mishaps,<br>And with a sort of lackeying friendliness,<br>Talks off the mighty frowning from his brow,<br>Woos him to hold a duet in a smile,<br>Or, if it please him, play an hour at chess<br>Maud. A perjured slave!<br>Chester. And for his perjury,<br>Glocester has fit rewards nay, I believe,<br>He sets his bustling household's wits at work<br>For flatteries to ease this Stephen's hours,<br>And make a heaven of his purgatory ;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adorning bondage with the pleasant gloss<br>Of feasts and music, and all idle shows<br>Of indoor pageantry; while syren whispers,<br>Predestined for his ear, 'scape as half-check'd<br>From lips the courtliest and the rubiest<br>Of all the realm, admiring of his deeds.<br>Maud. A frost upon his summer!<br>Chester. A queen's nod<br>Can make his June December. Here he comes</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Keats">John Keats</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420982" data-title="King Stephen de John Keats" data-description="A FRAGMENT OF A TRAGEDY
ACT I.
SCENE I. Field of Battle.
Alarum. Enter King STEPHEN, Knights, and Soldiers.
Stephen. If shame can on a soldier's vein-swoll’n front
Spread deeper crimson than the battle's toil,
Blush in your casing helmets! for s..."></div>
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