Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 70, No. 433, November 1851 - Various

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get thee to the hollow of yon tree,

      And bellow there as is thy wont.

      Grumo. How long?

      Dunstan. Till thy lungs crack. Get hence.

      [Exit Grumo.

      And if thou bellowest otherwise than Satan,

      It is not for the lack of Satan's sway

      'Stablished within thee.

      (Strange howls are heard from the tree.")

      With the same crafty spirit, and by a trick as gross, he imposes on the Synod, contriving that a voice shall appear to issue from the crucifix. These frauds, however, would have availed nothing of themselves; it is the spirit of fanaticism bearing down all opposition by which he works his way. This spirit sustains him in his solitude —

      "I hear your call!

      A radiance and a resonance from Heaven

      Surrounds me, and my soul is breaking forth

      In strength, as did the new-created Sun

      When Earth beheld it first on the fourth day.

      God spake not then more plainly to that orb

      Than to my spirit now."

      It sustains him in his solitude, and mark how triumphantly it carries him through in the hour of action. Odo the archbishop, Ricola the king's chaplain, as well as king and courtiers, all give way before this inexorable, unreasoning fanaticism, a fanaticism which is as complete a stranger to fear as it is to reason —

      "Dunstan (to Elgiva.) Fly hence,

      Pale prostitute! Avaunt, rebellious fiend,

      Which speakest through her.

      Elgiva. I am thy sovereign mistress and thy queen.

      Dunstan. … Who art thou?

      I see thee, and I know thee – yea, I smell thee!

      Again, 'tis Satan meets me front to front;

      Again I triumph! Where, and by what rite,

      And by what miscreant minister of God,

      And rotten member, was this mockery,

      That was no marriage, made to seem a marriage?

      Ricola. Lord Abbot, by no —

      Dunstan. What then, was it thou?

      The Church doth cut thee off and pluck thee out!

      A Synod shall be summoned! Chains for both!

      Chains for that harlot, and for this dog-priest!

      Oh wall of Jezreel!"

      And forthwith Elgiva, in spite of the king's resistance, is carried out a captive. The king, too, is imprisoned in the Tower, and here ensues a scene which brings out another aspect of the mind of Dunstan. It was the object of the crafty priest to induce Edwin to resign the crown; he had, therefore, made his imprisonment as painful as possible. He now visits him in the Tower, and in this interview we see, underneath the mad zealot and the subtle politician, something of the genuine man. Dunstan had not been always, and only, the priest; he understood the human life he trampled on —

      "Dunstan. What makes you weak? Do you not like your food?

      Or have you not enough?

      Edwin. Enough is brought;

      But he that brings it drops what seems to say

      That it is mixed with poison – some slow drug;

      So that I scarce dare eat, and hunger always.

      Dunstan. Your food is poisoned by your own suspicions.

      'Tis your own fault. —

      But thus it is with kings; suspicions haunt,

      And dangers press around them all their days;

      Ambition galls them, luxury corrupts,

      And wars and treasons are their talk at table.

      Edwin. This homily you should read to prosperous kings;

      It is not needed for a king like me.

      Dunstan. Who shall read homilies to a prosperous king!

      … To thy credulous ears

      The world, or what is to a king the world,

      The triflers of thy court, have imaged me

      As cruel, and insensible to joy,

      Austere, and ignorant of all delights

      That arts can minister. Far from the truth

      They wander who say thus. I but denounce

      Loves on a throne, and pleasures out of place.

      I am not old; not twenty years have fled

      Since I was young as thou; and in my youth

      I was not by those pleasures unapproached

      Which youth converses with.

      Edwin. No! wast thou not?

      How came they in thy sight?

      Dunstan. When Satan first

      Attempted me, 'twas in a woman's shape;

      Such shape as may have erst misled mankind,

      When Greece or Rome upreared with Pagan rites

      Temples to Venus…

      … 'Twas Satan sang,

      Because 'twas sung to me, whom God had called

      To other pastime and severer joys.

      But were it not for this, God's strict behest

      Enjoined upon me – had I not been vowed

      To holiest service rigorously required,

      I should have owned it for an angel's voice,

      Nor ever could an earthly crown, or toys

      And childishness of vain ambition, gauds

      And tinsels of the world, have lured my heart

      Into the tangle of those mortal cares

      That gather round a throne. What call is thine

      From God or man, what voice within bids thee

      Such pleasures to forego, such cares confront?

      … Unless thou by an instant act

      Renounce the crown, Elgiva shall not live.

      The deed is ready, to which thy name affixed

      Discharges from restraint both her and thee.

      Say wilt thou sign?

      Edwin. I will not.

      Dunstan. Be advised.

      What hast thou to surrender? I look round;

      This chamber is thy palace court, and realm.

      I do not see the crown – where is it hidden?

      Is that thy throne? – why, 'tis a base joint-stool;

      Or this thy sceptre? – 'tis an ashen stick

      Notched with the days of thy captivity.

      Such royalties to abdicate, methinks,

      Should hardly hold thee long. Nay, I myself,

      That love not ladies greatly, would give these

      To ransom whom I loved."

      These feelings of humanity, in part indeed simulated, do not long keep at bay the cruelty and insane rage or the priest. Edwin persists in his refusal; Dunstan leaves him for a moment, but shortly after returns holding the deed in his hand, and followed by his tool Grumo.

      "Dunstan. Thy signature to this.

      Edwin.

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