Wog. O, no! I'm strong enough: my men are strong.
Give us your rev'rend blessing o'er our heads
And we'll set out forthwith.
Hex. Then nothing doubt that on your worthy zeal
Will fall the blessing. Let us onward move.
Where are thy followers? (Exeunt Hex. talking busily to Wog. and the Monks smiling to one another as they go out.)
SCENE VI. The royal apartment: the King is discovered with Hexulf, the Seneschal, and several Friends or Counsellors, seated round a council table.
King. (as if continuing to speak.)
It may be so: youth finds no obstacle,
But I am old.
Full many a storm on this grey head has beat;
And now, on my high station do I stand,
Like the tired watchman in his air-rock'd tower,
Who looketh for the hour of his release.
I'm sick of worldly broils, and fain would rest
With those who war no more. One gleam of light
Did sweetly cheer the ev'ning of my day:
Edward, my son! he was the kindliest prop
That age did ever rest on—he is gone,
What should I fight for now?
Sen. For thine own honour; for the weal of Mercia.
With weapons in our hands, and strong in men,
