KING HENRY V. AND THe hermit oF DREUX 191

KING HENRY V. AND THE HERMIT OF

DREUX

ROBERT SOUTHEY

By the Treaty of Troyes (1420), Henry V. was recognized as heir to the throne of France and regent of the realm during the life of the mad king. He obtained the hand of the French princess Katherine in marriage, and nothing seemed lacking to complete his victory. But the French people, hating a foreign rule, rose in revolt, and the French towns had to be recaptured one by one. The resources of England were heavily taxed to support the war, and the king himself sickened and died (1422). The French chronicler relates how, while Henry V. was besieging Dreux, on the river Blaise, an ancient hermit came to his hut and, denouncing his ruthless ambition, warned him that God would punish his cruel deeds.

He pass'd unquestion'd through the camp,

Their heads the soldiers bent

In silent reverence, or begg'd

A blessing as he went;

And so the Hermit pass'd along
And reached the royal tent.

King Henry sate in his tent alone,
The map before him lay,

Fresh conquests he was planning there

To grace the future day.

King Henry lifted up his eyes

The intruder to behold;

With reverence he the Hermit saw,

For the holy man was old,

His look was gentle as a Saint's,

And yet his eye was bold.

Repent thee, Henry, of the wrongs
Which thou hast done this land!
O King, repent in time, for know
The judgment is at hand.

"I have pass'd forty years of peace
Beside the river Blaise,

But what a weight of woe hast thou
Laid on my latter days!

"I used to see along the stream
The white sail gliding down,
That wafted food in better times
To yonder peaceful town.

Henry! I never now behold

The white sail gliding down ;

Famine, Disease, and Death, and Thou Destroy that wretched town.

"I used to hear the traveller's voice

As here he passed along,

Or maiden as she loiter'd home

Singing her even-song.

"No traveller's voice may now be heard,

In fear he hastens by;

But I have heard the village maid

In vain for succour cry.

"I used to see the youths row down And watch the dripping oar,

KING HENRY V. AND THE HERMIT OF DREUX 193

As pleasantly their viol's tones

Came soften'd to the shore.

"King Henry, many a blacken'd corpse
I now see floating down!

Thou man of blood! repent in time,
And leave this leaguer'd town.'

"I shall go on," King Henry cried,
"And conquer this good land;
Seest thou not, Hermit, that the Lord
Hath given it to my hand?"

The Hermit heard King Henry speak,
And angrily look'd down;

His face was gentle, and for that
More solemn was his frown.

"What if no miracle from Heaven
The murderer's arm control,

Think you for that the weight of blood
Lies lighter on his soul?

"Thou conqueror King, repent in time
Or dread the coming woe!

For, Henry, thou hast heard the threat,
And soon shalt feel the blow!"

King Henry forced a careless smile,
As the Hermit went his way;
But Henry soon remember'd him
Upon his dying day.

THE KING'S TRAGEDY

DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI

IF England could boast in Henry V. a martial hero for king, Scotland could lay claim to a royal poet. James I., the ablest of Scotch rulers, spent his boyhood in captivity in England. He was carefully educated and gathered wisdom from his observation of English laws and customs. He was with Henry V. in France during part of the second campaign. Early in the reign of Henry VI. (1424), James was allowed, in his thirtieth year, to return to his kingdom, carrying with him an English bride. The jealous Scots dubbed him the Saxon king. James I. had high ideals for Scotland, and did all that one man might to reform the abuses which had crept into the government. A curb was placed on the power of the great nobles, and the poor were defended against oppression. But the king's stern enforcement of justice made him bitter enemies among the fierce Scotch lords. They plotted against his life and finally murdered him before his purposes for Scotland were accomplished.

Through all the days of his gallant youth

The princely James was pent,

By his friends at first and then by his foes,
In long imprisonment.

For the elder Prince, the kingdom's heir,
By treason's murderous brood

Was slain; and the father quaked for the child
With the royal mortal blood.

I' the Bass Rock fort, by his father's care,
Was his childhood's life assured;

And Henry the subtle Bolingbroke,

Proud England's King, 'neath the southron yoke His youth for long years immured.

Yet in all things meet for a kingly man
Himself did he approve;

And the nightingale through his prison-wall
Taught him both lore and love.

For once, when the bird's song drew him close
To the opened window-pane,

In her bower beneath a lady stood,

A light of life to his sorrowful mood,

Like a lily amid the rain.

And for her sake, to the sweet bird's note,

He framed a sweeter Song,

More sweet than ever a poet's heart

Gave yet to the English tongue.

She was a lady of royal blood ;

And when, past sorrow and teen,

He stood where still through his crownless years

His Scottish realm had been,

At Scone were the happy lovers crowned,

A heart-wed King and Queen.

But the bird may fall from the bough of youth, And song be turned to moan,

And Love's storm-cloud be the shadow of Hate,
When the tempest-waves of a troubled State
Are beating against a throne.

Yet well they loved; and the god of Love,
Whom well the King had sung,

Might find on the earth no truer hearts
His lowliest swains among.