-08_The House of Brut- Act – II.htm

The House of Brut

Dramatis Personae

BRUTUS, Prince of Britain.

DEVON, son of Corineus.

HUMBER, King of Norway.

GUENDOLEN, daughter of Corineus.

ESTRILD, a Pictish princess, concubine of Humber.

The camp of Humber.

Humber, Offa, Norwegians.

HUMBER

Drinkhael, dragons and stormwinds of the sea!

(drinks)

Spare not to drain this sweetened force of earth,

You Vikings! How it bubbles to the lips

Vigorous as newspilt blood. Drink deep, and shout

“Glory to Thor and Humber!” With the sun

Upon the force of Albanact we march.

Shout, Norsemen! Let the heavens hear your menace.

Drinkhael!

(drinks)

ALL

Washael! Glory to ancient Thor

And Humber.

HUMBER

I am the hammer old of Thor

When he would crush the nations. He is merry

With wine and smites the world with me.

(drinks)

Or wherefore

Should I derive my glory? Have I not

Rushed through the angry waters when the whale

Was stunned between two waves and slain my foe

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Betwixt the thunders? Have not the burning hamlets

Of Gaul lighted me homeward for a league?

Erin has felt me, Norsemen.

ALL

Glory to Humber.

HUMBER

Have I not slain the Alban hosts and bound

The necks of princes? Yea, their glorious star

And wonder for whom three kingdoms strove, Estrild,

Led to my ships? The queens of the Orcades

Are slaves and concubines to private Norsemen.

ALL

Glory to Humber, Thor’s hammer! Humber! Humber!

HUMBER

Have I not harried Ireland, Denmark, Orkney?

Shattered the Pictish wheels, broken their scythes,

Unpeopled living tracts? Why then prefer you

Thor’s self to me? Has he filled up your ships

With gold and wines of France, rich rings and jewels,

Metals untold and beautiful sharp steel?

Who has enriched and aggrandized you all

Till you are gods, to each hand a country’s wealth,

To each sword a century’s glory? Who has given

The commonest man beauty divine to sleep with,

Made queens your slaves and kings your thralls, you Norsemen?

ALL

Humber, Humber! Not Thor, but mightier Humber.

HUMBER

Drink, Norsemen. Ye shall all be kings. Scotia

And Albany and Ireland shall be mine.

I’ll have as many kingdoms as the year

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Has moons. Do you doubt me, Vikings? Do you mutter?

But you shall see my glory. Call Estrild,

You thralls of Humber.

ALL

Glory to great Humber!

Humber shall now be Thor. He shall new-make

The bones of Heimir in his hands. Cry “Humber!”

HUMBER

This river we ascend, shall now no more

Bear its old name but mine; and all this region

Be Albany no more but Humberland.

The world’s name changed shall be my monument.

Enter thralls with Estrild.

ESTRILD

Gods, if you be, protect me!

ALL

Glory to Humber.

HUMBER

Lo she whose starlike eyes enthral the nations,

Comes to do reverence to Humber, glad

To be his glory’s meanest satellite.

Kneel down, daughter of princes, favoured more

Than Freya or Gudrun; for these were wives

Of gods or demigods, but thou the slave

Of Humber. Lo whose pleasure kingdoms strove

To do, is made my footstool. I have slain

Nations to win her and have ravished her

Before her father’s eyes, not yet made blood

And faces of a hundred warlike lovers.

Yet all these could not help her cries.

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ALL