The Northern Lord

Lo, now thou awakest; so tell me in what wise I shall wend back again: set a word in my mouth To meet the folks' murmur, and give heart to the heavy; For there man speaks to man that thy measure is full, And thy five-years-old kingdom is falling asunder.

[KING draws his sword.

Yea, yea, a fair token thy sword were to send them; Thou dost well to draw it; (KING brandishes his sword over the lord's head, as if to strike him): soft sound is its whistle; Strike then, O king, for my wars are well over, And dull is the way my feet tread to the grave!

KING PHARAMOND (sheathing his sword)

Man, if ye have waked me, I bid you be wary Lest my sword yet should reach you; ye wot in your northland What hatred he winneth who waketh the shipman From the sweet rest of death mid the welter of waves; So with us may it fare; though I know thee full faithful, Bold in field and in council, most fit for a king. --Bear with me. I pray you that to none may be meted Such a measure of pain as my soul is oppressed with. Depart all for a little, till my spirit grows lighter, Then come ye with tidings, and hold we fair council, That my countries may know they have yet got a king. [Exeunt all but OLIVER and KING. Come, my foster-father, ere thy visage fade from me, Come with me mid the flowers some opening to find In the clouds that cling round me; if thou canst remember Thine old lovingkindness when I was a king.