Abounding with all fortitude of soul

I ever knew you. Here's St. Tibba's thumb,
A relic of much price, which ne'er till now
Was parted from me; put it in your vest,
And heartily we bid you well to fare.

SCENE IX.-A Corridor in a Monastery at Sheen.

Two Monks.

First Monk. He slept two hours-no more; then

"Methinks it raineth "-pointing with his hand;

And as he pointed, lo! it rained apace !

Second Monk. Against such blows what body of

mortal man

Could e'er hold out? He's on the way to heaven

Unless he deal more mildly with his flesh.

First Monk. He raised his body-which is just his bones

Upon one hand, and crossed himself and groaned.
And Father Bridferth met me in the court,

And quoth he, “Hast thou seen the holy Dunstan? ”

I answered, "Yes, and on his wasted hand
Red stains that spurted from the nightly scourge."
Second Monk. Nightly and daily, brother.

hour

He plies it for a double "De Profundis."
As I passed out-

At this

Enter ATHULF, attended by the King's Jester, GRIMBALD.

Athulf.

Is Father Dunstan here?

Second Monk.

God save you, holy Sirs!

My son, he is.

He rose at five. I gave him his hair shirt.

First Monk. At four he called for me and sate

upright,

And on his hand appeared

Athulf.

I pray you tell him

Earl Athulf, on an errand from the King,

Would be beholden to his courtesy

For some three minutes of his time.

Second Monk.

My Lord,

Unless your business be of instant haste
He hardly will bestow himself so early
On aught of secular concernment.

Athulf.

No?

But, Sirs, it is in haste—in haste extreme—

Matters of State, and hot with haste.

Second Monk.

My Lord,

We will so say, but truly at this present

He is about to scourge himself.

Athulf.

I'll wait.

For a King's ransom would I not cut short

So good a work. pray you, for how long?

Second Monk. For twice the "De Profundis"-sung in slow time.

Athulf. Please him to make it ten times, I will wait. And could I be of use, this knotted trifle,

This dog-whip here, has oft been worse employed.
First Monk. My Lord, we'll bring you to the room

where stand

The poor, whose feet he washes after penance,
Whence you may see him in the oratory

Plying the blood-stained lash. Tread softly, Sirs,
For he were not well pleased were he to know
That strangers' eyes beheld him.

SCENE X.-An Oratory.

DUNSTAN, in a shirt of sackcloth, stained with blood, reclines on a pallet of straw. ODO stands near him. Two Choristers are closing their books.

Odo. How farest thou, brother?

Dunstan.

But strong in spirit. Choristers, retire.

Brother, weak in flesh

[Exeunt Choristers.

Brother, behoves us to compel our thoughts
An instant from above, and on this world,
Its temporalities and secular cares,

Turn them, so long averted.

What tidings hear'st thou ?

Odo.

Say, in brief,

Still a gathering round

Of the King's forces, trooping to the call

Of Rehoboam's councillor, rash Earl Athulf.

Dunstan. Son of perdition, he affronts his fate! But there are more than he.

Odo.

At Hastings still

Earl Leolf stands aloof; but holds his power

In present preparation.

With blasting and with mildew shall they perish!
With madness, blindness, and astonishment

Shall they be smitten, the young man and the virgin,

Terror within them and a sword without !

One way against us shall their host come forth,
And seven ways flee before us.-What is this?

ATHULF is heard without, singing:

Sinks the sun with a smile,

Though his heart's in his mouth,

And night comes the while

With a sigh from the south.

Like them, Love, are you,

In your coming and flying,

For you smiled me adieu,

And you welcome me sighing.

Dunstan. What mumming knave is here ?-Brother,

I say,

Their host shall flee; the anger of the Just

Shall smoke against them.-Nay, again! What, ho!

GRIMBALD is heard without, singing :

There was a maid that was a jade,

Four lovers true had she?

One did so dote that he cut his own throat.
And she poisoned the other three.

Dunstan. What, ho! are we attended? Are there

Of juggling mountebanks that bellow and sing?

Bridferth. Sir, the Earl Athulf, from my Lord the

King,

Accompanied by his Highness's chief jester,

Expects the end of your observances,

And entertains his patience.