Гр XXXVI.-FIDELITY REWARDED. (KING, MILLER, COURTIER.) 1. King. (Enters alone, wrapped in a cloak.) No, no, this can be no public road, that's certain. I have lost my way, undoubtedly. Of what advantage is it now to be a king? Night shows me no respect; I can not see better, nor walk so well, as another man. When a king is lost in a wood, what is he more than other men? His wisdom knows not which is north and which is south; his power a beggar's dog would bark at, and the beggar himself would not bow to his greatness. And yet how often are we puffed up with these false attributes? Well, in losing the monarch I have found the man. But hark! somebody sure is near. What were it best to do? Will my majesty protect me? majesty aside, then, and let manhood do it. (Enter the Miller.) No. Throw 2. M. I believe I hear the rogue. Who's there? 4. M. gun? 5. K. 6. M. Little better, friend, I believe. Who fired that Not I, indeed. You lie, I believe. 7. K. (aside) Lie, lie? how strange it seems to me to be talked to in this style. (Aloud) Upon my word, I don't, sir. 8. M. Come, come, sirrah, confess; you have shot one of the king's deer, haven't you? 9. K. No, indeed; I owe the king more respect. I heard a gun go off, to be sure, and was afraid some robbers might be near. 10. M. I am not bound to believe this, friend. Pray, who are you? What is your name? 11. K. Name? 12. M. Name! aye, name! You have a name, haven't you? Where do you come from? What is your business here? 13. K. These are questions I have not been used to, honest man. 14. M. May be so; but they are questions no honest man would be afraid to answer; so if you can give no better account of yourself, I shall make bold to take you along with me, if you please. 15. K. With you! What authority have you to 16. M. The king's authority, if I must give you an account. Sir, I am John Cockle, the miller of Mansfield, one of his Majesty's keepers in the forest of Sherwood; and I let no suspicious fellow pass this way unless he can give a better account of himself than you have done, I promise you. 17. K. Very well, sir, I am very glad to hear the king has so good an officer; and, since I find you have his authority, I will give you a better account of myself, if you will do me the favor to hear it. 18. M. You don't deserve it, I believe; but let's hear what you can say for yourself. 19. K. I have the honor to belong to the king, as well as you, and perhaps should be as unwilling to see any wrong done. I came down with him to hunt in this forest, and the chase leading us to-day a great way from home, I am benighted in this wood, and have lost my way. 20. M. This does not sound well; if you have been hunting, pray where is your horse? 21. K. I have tired my horse so that he lay down under me, and I was obliged to leave him. 22. M. If I thought I might believe this, now. 23. K. I am not used to lie, honest man. 24. M. What! do you live at court and not lie? That's a likely story, indeed! 25. K. Be that as it may, I speak truth now, I assure you; and to convince you of it, if you will attend me to Nottingham, or give me a night's lodging in your house, here is something to pay you for your trouble (offering money), and if that is not sufficient, I will satisfy you in the morning to your utmost desire. 26. M. Aye, now I am convinced you are a courtier; here is a little bribe for to-day, and a large promise for to-morrow, both in a breath. Here, take it again; John Cockle is no courtier. He can do what he ought with out a bribe. 27. K. Thou art a very extraordinary man, I must own; and I should be glad, methinks, to be further acquainted with thee. 28. M. Prithee, don't thee and thou me at this rate. I suppose I am as good a man as yourself, at least. 29. K. Sir, I beg pardon. 30. M. Nay, I am not angry, friend; only I don't love to be too familiar with you until I am satisfied as to your honesty. 31. K. You are right. But what am I to do? 32. M. You may do what you please. You are twelve miles from Nottingham, and all the way through this thick wood; but if you are resolved upon going thither to-night, I will put you in the road, and direct you the best I can; or, if you will accept of such poor entertainment as a miller can give, you shall be welcome to stay all night, and in the morning I will go with you myself. 33. K. And can not you go with me to-night? 34. M. I would not go with you to-night if you were the king himself. 35. K. Then I must go with you, I think. (Enter a courtier, in haste.) Courtier. Ah! is your Majesty safe? We have hunted the forest over to find you. 36. M. How are you the king? (kneels.) Your Majesty will pardon the ill usage you have received (the king draws his sword). His Majesty surely will not kill a servant for doing his duty too faithfully. 37. K. No, my good fellow. So far from having any thing to pardon, I am much your debtor. I can not but think so good and honest a man will make a worthy and honorable knight. Rise, Sir John Cockle, and receive this sword as a badge of knighthood and a pledge of my protection; and to support your nobility, and in some measure requite you for the pleasure you have done us, ten thousand crowns a year shall be your revenue. XXXVII. THE THREE BELLS. Captain Leighton, of the English ship Three Bells, some years ago rescued the crew of an American vessel sinking in mid-ocean. Unable to take them off in the storm and darkness, he kept by them until morning, running down often during the night, as near to them as he dared, and shouting to them through his trumpet, "Never fear! Hold on! I'll stand by you." 1. Beneath the low-hung night cloud The cruel leak gained fast. 2. Over the awful ocean Her signal guns pealed out. From the horror round about? 3. A voice came down the wild wind, "Our stout Three Bells of Glasgow 4. Hour after hour crept slowly, 5. And ship to ship made signals, While oft, to cheer and hearten, 6. And the captain from her taffrail "Take heart! Hold on!" he shouted, 7. All night across the waters The tossing lights shone clear; 8. And when the weary watches All souls were saved at last! 9. Sail, on Three Bells, forever, 10. As thine, in night and tempest, And, tossing through the darkness, JOHN G. WHITTIER. |