THE HOUSE OF BRUT

Fragment of a Play 

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

BRUTUS, Prince of Britain.

DEVON, son of Cormeus.

HUMBER, King of Norway.

GUENDOLEN, daughter of Cormeus.
ESTRILD, A Pictish princess, concubine of Humber.  

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Act Two  

 SCENE I

The camp of Humber.

Humber, Offa, Norwegians.

HUMBER

Drinkhael, dragons and stormwinds of the sea!

(Drinks)

Spare not to drain this sweetened juice 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
Betwixt the thunders ? Have not the burning hamlets
Of Gaul lighted me homeward for a league ?
Erin has felt me, Norsemen.  

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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 aggrandised 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 men 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

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

But you shall see my glory. Call Estrild,

You thralls of Humber.  

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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 mystic¹ 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.

ALL

Humber!

¹starlike

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OFFA

The strong, the noble Humber!

HUMBER

Girl, arise
And serve me. Thou shalt do it royally.
This is thy father's skull

(Incomplete)

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