Evenings at Home; Or, The Juvenile Budget Opened. John Aikin

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СКАЧАТЬ Good even to you, good man. Are you disposed to show hospitality to a poor traveller?

      Gubba. Why truly there are so many poor travellers now-a-days, that if we entertain them all, we shall have nothing left for ourselves. However, come along to my wife, and we will see what can be done for you. Wife, I am very weary: I have been chopping wood all day.

      Gandelin. You are always ready for your supper, but it is not ready for you, I assure you: the cakes will take an hour to bake, and the sun is yet high; it has not yet dipped behind the old barn. But who have you with you, I trow?

      Alfred. Good mother, I am a stranger; and entreat you to afford me food and shelter.

      Gandelin. Good mother, quotha! Good wife, if you please, and welcome. But I do not love strangers; and the land has no reason to love them. It has never been a merry day for Old England since strangers came into it.

      Alfred. I am not a stranger in England, though I am a stranger here. I am a trueborn Englishman.

      Gubba. And do you hate those wicked Danes, that eat us up, and burn our houses, and drive away our cattle?

      Alfred. I do hate them.

      Gandelin. Heartily! he does not speak heartily, husband.

      Alfred. Heartily I hate them; most heartily.

      Gubba. Give me thy hand, then; thou art an honest fellow.

      Alfred. I was with King Alfred in the last battle he fought.

      Gandelin. With King Alfred? Heaven bless him!

      Gubba. What is become of our good king?

      Alfred. Did you love him, then?

      Gubba. Yes, as much as a poor man may love a king; and kneeled down and prayed for him every night, that he might conquer those Danish wolves; but it was not to be so.

      Alfred. You could not love Alfred better than I did.

      Gubba. But what is become of him?

      Alfred. He is thought to be dead.

      Gubba. Well, these are sad times; Heaven help us! Come, you shall be welcome to share the brown loaf with us; I suppose you are too sharp set to be nice.

      Gandelin. Ay, come with us; you shall be as welcome as a prince! But hark ye, husband; though I am very willing to be charitable to this stranger, (it would be a sin to be otherwise,) yet there is no reason he should not do something to maintain himself: he looks strong and capable.

      Gubba. Why, that’s true. What can you do, friend?

      Alfred. I am very willing to help you in anything you choose to set me about. It will please me best to earn my bread before I eat it.

      Gubba. Let me see. Can you tie up fagots neatly?

      Alfred. I have not been used to it. I am afraid I should be awkward.

      Gubba. Can you thatch? There is a piece blown off the cowhouse.

      Alfred. Alas! I cannot thatch.

      Gandelin. Ask him if he can weave rushes: we want some new baskets.

      Alfred. I have never learned.

      Gubba. Can you stack hay?

      Alfred. No.

      Gubba. Why, here’s a fellow! and yet he hath as many pair of hands as his neighbours. Dame, can you employ him in the house? He might lay wood on the fire, and rub the tables.

      Gandelin. Let him watch these cakes, then: I must go and milk the kine.

      Gubba. And I’ll go and stack the wood, since supper is not ready.

      Gandelin. But pray, observe, friend; do not let the cakes burn; turn them often on the hearth.

      Alfred. I shall observe your directions.

      Alfred alone.

      Alfred. For myself, I could bear it: but England, my bleeding country, for thee my heart is wrung with bitter anguish!—From the Humber to the Thames the rivers are stained with blood. My brave soldiers cut to pieces! My poor people—some massacred, others driven from their warm homes, stripped, abused, insulted; and I, whom Heaven appointed their shepherd, unable to rescue my defenceless flock from the ravenous jaws of these devourers! Gracious Heaven! if I am not worthy to save this land from the Danish sword, raise up some other hero to fight with more success than I have done, and let me spend my life in this obscure cottage, in these servile offices: I shall be content if England is happy. O! here come my blunt host and hostess.

      Enter Gubba and Gandelin.

      Gandelin. Help me down with the pail, husband. This new milk, with the cakes, will make an excellent supper: but, mercy on us, how they are burnt! black as my shoe; they have not once been turned: you oaf, you lubber, you lazy loon—

      Alfred. Indeed, dame, I am sorry for it: but my mind was full of sad thoughts.

      Gubba. Come, wife, you must forgive him; perhaps he is in love. I remember when I was in love with thee——

      Gandelin. You remember!

      Gubba. Yes, dame, I do remember it, though it is many a long year since; my mother was making a kettle of furmety—

      Gandelin. Pr’y thee, hold thy tongue, and let us eat our suppers.

      Alfred. How refreshing is this sweet new milk, and this wholesome bread!

      Gubba. Eat heartily, friend. Where shall we lodge him, Gandelin?

      Gandelin. We have but one bed you know; but there is fresh straw in the barn.

      Alfred (aside). If I shall not lodge like a king, at least I shall lodge like a soldier. Alas! how many of my poor soldiers are stretched on the bare ground!

      Gandelin. What noise do I hear! It is the tramping of horses. Good husband, go and see what is the matter!

      Alfred. Heaven forbid my misfortunes should bring destruction on this simple family! I had rather have perished in the wood.

      Gubba returns, followed by Ella, with his sword drawn.

      Gandelin. Mercy defend us, a sword!

      Gubba. The Danes! the Danes! O, do not kill us!

      Ella (kneeling). My liege, my lord, my sovereign! have I found you?

      Alfred (embracing him). My brave Ella!

      Ella. I bring you СКАЧАТЬ