Chapter 35

KING ALFRED, PEASANT CUDRED, WIFE SWITHA

_Alfred._ Save you, good father! May a Saxon stranger, whom the Danish robbers have made homeless, share a lodging with thy master's cattle for the night?

_Cudred._ Wilt thou swear to me that thou art not a Dane in disguise?

_Alfred._ I say to thee, my friend, I am no Dane, but a true Saxon.

_Cudred._ Then thou shalt share the calf's crib to-night. Perchance thou art hungry, too?

_Alfred._ To say truth, father, I have not broken my fast to-day; neither have I had aught to drink save from these marshy streams. I shall be right thankful for some food, even a crust of coarsest rye bread.

_Cudred._ Rye bread, forsooth! Thou talkest of dainties indeed! Thou wilt get nothing better than flat oaten cakes here.

_Alfred._ I have always wished to taste an oaten cake.

_Cudred._ Follow me, then, and thou shalt have thy desire. Switha, Switha!

_Switha._ Well, I hear thee!

_Cudred._ Switha, I have brought thee home a guest who will be glad to partake of our supper.

_Switha._ A guest! And thinkest thou I've naught better to do than broil fish and bake cakes for all the vagabonds who roam the land?

_Cudred._ Patience, good Switha. I have not asked thee to cook for a vagabond. This is an honest Saxon whom it will be charity to feed and shelter for the night.

_Switha._ Let me hold the torch and see this Saxon guest. Thou lookest like a guest of fashion, sorry fellow!

_Cudred._ Cease thy scolding talk, woman! I see by this light that our guest hath not been used to beg for charity from such as thou. Why be so hard of heart and by thy rude taunts make bitter the food he must receive from our hands?

_Switha._ I have heard that charity begins at home, and I am sure we are poor enough.

_Cudred._ Not poor enough to refuse food to the hungry, such as it is. Here is fish, and here an oaten cake which you wish to taste.

_Alfred._ Thanks for your goodness, kind host. Indeed, I am hungry.

_Switha._ You eat like a hungry wolf.

_Alfred._ And now I am hungry no longer. I thank you both for a good supper, and I hope you will never be sorry you have given charity to a stranger. Now, Cudred, I shall be glad to sleep.

_Cudred._ This way, then, to the bed of straw. Now, tell me truly, art thou not some mighty earl in disguise?

_Alfred._ I am Alfred, thy king--I know from thy goodness to me when thou thoughtest me a beggar that thou art a good man, therefore I confide in thee. I know thou wilt not betray thy king.

_Cudred._ Not all the gold of Denmark should tempt me to commit so base a crime, but we must not let Switha know who thou art, my royal master.

_Alfred._ I shall be careful. Soon, I hope, my friends will bring me word that my army awaits me, when I shall again try to set my country free.