diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:27 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:27 -0700 |
| commit | f02c97f9ef6504afa6ecd703bae23697a8a6d649 (patch) | |
| tree | 0b4f22b8c097a88f3fbd2de419b4ed3933dcb5ca /old | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/lfdrm10.txt | 3712 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/lfdrm10.zip | bin | 0 -> 47046 bytes |
2 files changed, 3712 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/lfdrm10.txt b/old/lfdrm10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f227abc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/lfdrm10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3712 @@ +Project Gutenberg Life Is A Dream, by Pedro Calderon de la Barca +#1 in our series by Pedro Calderon de la Barca + +We would also like to do the original, if you would like to help! + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Title: Life Is A Dream + +Author: Pedro Calderon de la Barca + +Translator: Edward Fitzgerald) + +April, 2001 [Etext #2587] + + +Project Gutenberg Life Is A Dream, by Pedro Calderon de la Barca +******This file should be named lfdrm10.txt or lfdrm10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, lfdrm11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, lfdrm10a.txt + + +Etext prepared by Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com +Emma Dudding, emma_302@hotmail.com +and John Bickers, jbickers@ihug.co.nz + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text +files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly +from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an +assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few +more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we +don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person. + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails. . .try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +We would prefer to send you this information by email. + +****** + +To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser +to view http://promo.net/pg. This site lists Etexts by +author and by title, and includes information about how +to get involved with Project Gutenberg. You could also +download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here. This +is one of our major sites, please email hart@pobox.com, +for a more complete list of our various sites. + +To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any +Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror +sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed +at http://promo.net/pg). + +Mac users, do NOT point and click, typing works better. + +Example FTP session: + +ftp metalab.unc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + +*** + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** + +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +We are planning on making some changes in our donation structure +in 2000, so you might want to email me, hart@pobox.com beforehand. + + + + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + + + + + +Etext prepared by Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com +Emma Dudding, emma_302@hotmail.com +and John Bickers, jbickers@ihug.co.nz + + + + + +LIFE IS A DREAM + +by PEDRO CALDERON DE LA BARCA + + + + +Translated by +Edward Fitzgerald + + + + +INTRODUCTORY NOTE + +Pedro Calderon de la Barca was born in Madrid, January 17, 1600, of +good family. He was educated at the Jesuit College in Madrid and at +the University of Salamanca; and a doubtful tradition says that he +began to write plays at the age of thirteen. His literary activity was +interrupted for ten years, 1625-1635, by military service in Italy and +the Low Countries, and again for a year or more in Catalonia. In 1637 +he became a Knight of the Order of Santiago, and in 1651 he entered +the priesthood, rising to the dignity of Superior of the Brotherhood +of San Pedro in Madrid. He held various offices in the court of Philip +IV, who rewarded his services with pensions, and had his plays +produced with great splendor. He died May 5, 1681. + +At the time when Calderon began to compose for the stage, the Spanish +drama was at its height. Lope de Vega, the most prolific and, with +Calderon, the greatest, of Spanish dramatists, was still alive; and by +his applause gave encouragement to the beginner whose fame was to +rival his own. The national type of drama which Lope had established +was maintained in its essential characteristics by Calderon, and he +produced abundant specimens of all its varieties. Of regular plays he +has left a hundred and twenty; of "Autos Sacramentales," the peculiar +Spanish allegorical development of the medieval mystery, we have +seventy-three; besides a considerable number of farces. + +The dominant motives in Calderon's dramas are characteristically +national: fervid loyalty to Church and King, and a sense of honor +heightened almost to the point of the fantastic. Though his plays are +laid in a great variety of scenes and ages, the sentiment and the +characters remain essentially Spanish; and this intensely local +quality has probably lessened the vogue of Calderon in other +countries. In the construction and conduct of his plots he showed +great skill, yet the ingenuity expended in the management of the story +did not restrain the fiery emotion and opulent imagination which mark +his finest speeches and give them a lyric quality which some critics +regard as his greatest distinction. + +Of all Calderon's works, "Life is a Dream" may be regarded as the most +universal in its theme. It seeks to teach a lesson that may be learned +from the philosophers and religious thinkers of many ages--that the +world of our senses is a mere shadow, and that the only reality is to +be found in the invisible and eternal. The story which forms its basis +is Oriental in origin, and in the form of the legend of "Barlaam and +Josaphat" was familiar in all the literatures of the Middle Ages. +Combined with this in the plot is the tale of Abou Hassan from the +"Arabian Nights," the main situations in which are turned to farcical +purposes in the Induction to the Shakespearean "Taming of the Shrew." +But with Calderon the theme is lifted altogether out of the atmosphere +of comedy, and is worked up with poetic sentiment and a touch of +mysticism into a symbolic drama of profound and universal +philosophical significance. + + + + + +LIFE IS A DREAM + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + +Basilio King of Poland. +Segismund his Son. +Astolfo his Nephew. +Estrella his Niece. +Clotaldo a General in Basilio's Service. +Rosaura a Muscovite Lady. +Fife her Attendant. + +Chamberlain, Lords in Waiting, Officers, Soldiers, etc., in Basilio's +Service. + + + +The Scene of the first and third Acts lies on the Polish frontier: of +the second Act, in Warsaw. + +As this version of Calderon's drama is not for acting, a higher and +wider mountain-scene than practicable may be imagined for Rosaura's +descent in the first Act and the soldiers' ascent in the last. The bad +watch kept by the sentinels who guarded their state-prisoner, together +with much else (not all!) that defies sober sense in this wild drama, +I must leave Calderon to answer for; whose audience were not critical +of detail and probability, so long as a good story, with strong, +rapid, and picturesque action and situation, was set before them. + + + +ACT I + + + +SCENE I--A pass of rocks, over which a storm is rolling away, and the +sun setting: in the foreground, half-way down, a fortress. + + +(Enter first from the topmost rock Rosaura, as from horseback, in +man's attire; and, after her, Fife.) + +ROSAURA. +There, four-footed Fury, blast +Engender'd brute, without the wit +Of brute, or mouth to match the bit +Of man--art satisfied at last? +Who, when thunder roll'd aloof, +Tow'rd the spheres of fire your ears +Pricking, and the granite kicking +Into lightning with your hoof, +Among the tempest-shatter'd crags +Shattering your luckless rider +Back into the tempest pass'd? +There then lie to starve and die, +Or find another Phaeton +Mad-mettled as yourself; for I, +Wearied, worried, and for-done, +Alone will down the mountain try, +That knits his brows against the sun. + +FIFE (as to his mule). +There, thou mis-begotten thing, +Long-ear'd lightning, tail'd tornado, +Griffin-hoof-in hurricano, +(I might swear till I were almost +Hoarse with roaring Asonante) +Who forsooth because our betters +Would begin to kick and fling +You forthwith your noble mind +Must prove, and kick me off behind, +Tow'rd the very centre whither +Gravity was most inclined. +There where you have made your bed +In it lie; for, wet or dry, +Let what will for me betide you, +Burning, blowing, freezing, hailing; +Famine waste you: devil ride you: +Tempest baste you black and blue: +(To Rosaura.) +There! I think in downright railing +I can hold my own with you. + +ROS. +Ah, my good Fife, whose merry loyal pipe, +Come weal, come woe, is never out of tune +What, you in the same plight too? + +FIFE. +Ay; And madam--sir--hereby desire, +When you your own adventures sing +Another time in lofty rhyme, +You don't forget the trusty squire +Who went with you Don-quixoting. + +ROS. +Well, my good fellow--to leave Pegasus +Who scarce can serve us than our horses worse-- +They say no one should rob another of +The single satisfaction he has left +Of singing his own sorrows; one so great, +So says some great philosopher, that trouble +Were worth encount'ring only for the sake +Of weeping over--what perhaps you know +Some poet calls the 'luxury of woe.' + +FIFE. +Had I the poet or philosopher +In the place of her that kick'd me off to ride, +I'd test his theory upon his hide. +But no bones broken, madam--sir, I mean?-- + +ROS. +A scratch here that a handkerchief will heal-- +And you?-- + +FIFE. +A scratch in /quiddity/, or kind: +But not in '/quo/'--my wounds are all behind. +But, as you say, to stop this strain, +Which, somehow, once one's in the vein, +Comes clattering after--there again!-- +What are we twain--deuce take't!--we two, +I mean, to do--drench'd through and through-- +Oh, I shall choke of rhymes, which I believe +Are all that we shall have to live on here. + +ROS. +What, is our victual gone too?-- + +FIFE. +Ay, that brute +Has carried all we had away with her, +Clothing, and cate, and all. + +ROS. +And now the sun, +Our only friend and guide, about to sink +Under the stage of earth. + +FIFE. +And enter Night, +With Capa y Espada--and--pray heaven! +With but her lanthorn also. + +ROS. +Ah, I doubt +To-night, if any, with a dark one--or +Almost burnt out after a month's consumption. +Well! well or ill, on horseback or afoot, +This is the gate that lets me into Poland; +And, sorry welcome as she gives a guest +Who writes his own arrival on her rocks +In his own blood-- +Yet better on her stony threshold die, +Than live on unrevenged in Muscovy. + +FIFE. +Oh, what a soul some women have--I mean +Some men-- + +ROS. +Oh, Fife, Fife, as you love me, Fife, +Make yourself perfect in that little part, +Or all will go to ruin! + +FIFE. +Oh, I will, +Please God we find some one to try it on. +But, truly, would not any one believe +Some fairy had exchanged us as we lay +Two tiny foster-children in one cradle? + +ROS. +Well, be that as it may, Fife, it reminds me +Of what perhaps I should have thought before, +But better late than never--You know I love you, +As you, I know, love me, and loyally +Have follow'd me thus far in my wild venture. +Well! now then--having seen me safe thus far +Safe if not wholly sound--over the rocks +Into the country where my business lies +Why should not you return the way we came, +The storm all clear'd away, and, leaving me +(Who now shall want you, though not thank you, less, +Now that our horses gone) this side the ridge, +Find your way back to dear old home again; +While I--Come, come!-- +What, weeping my poor fellow? + +FIFE. +Leave you here +Alone--my Lady--Lord! I mean my Lord-- +In a strange country--among savages-- +Oh, now I know--you would be rid of me +For fear my stumbling speech-- + +ROS. +Oh, no, no, no!-- +I want you with me for a thousand sakes +To which that is as nothing--I myself +More apt to let the secret out myself +Without your help at all--Come, come, cheer up! +And if you sing again, 'Come weal, come woe,' +Let it be that; for we will never part +Until you give the signal. + +FIFE. +'Tis a bargain. + +ROS. +Now to begin, then. 'Follow, follow me, +'You fairy elves that be.' + +FIFE. +Ay, and go on-- +Something of 'following darkness like a dream,' +For that we're after. + +ROS. +No, after the sun; +Trying to catch hold of his glittering skirts +That hang upon the mountain as he goes. + +FIFE. +Ah, he's himself past catching--as you spoke +He heard what you were saying, and--just so-- +Like some scared water-bird, +As we say in my country, /dove/ below. + +ROS. +Well, we must follow him as best we may. +Poland is no great country, and, as rich +In men and means, will but few acres spare +To lie beneath her barrier mountains bare. +We cannot, I believe, be very far +From mankind or their dwellings. + +FIFE. +Send it so! +And well provided for man, woman, and beast. +No, not for beast. Ah, but my heart begins +To yearn for her-- + +ROS. +Keep close, and keep your feet +From serving you as hers did. + +FIFE. +As for beasts, +If in default of other entertainment, +We should provide them with ourselves to eat-- +Bears, lions, wolves-- + +ROS. +Oh, never fear. + +FIFE. +Or else, +Default of other beasts, beastlier men, +Cannibals, Anthropophagi, bare Poles +Who never knew a tailor but by taste. + +ROS. +Look, look! Unless my fancy misconceive +With twilight--down among the rocks there, Fife-- +Some human dwelling, surely-- +Or think you but a rock torn from the rocks +In some convulsion like to-day's, and perch'd +Quaintly among them in mock-masonry? + +FIFE. +Most likely that, I doubt. + +ROS. +No, no--for look! +A square of darkness opening in it-- + +FIFE. +Oh, I don't half like such openings!-- + +ROS. +Like the loom +Of night from which she spins her outer gloom-- + +FIFE. +Lord, Madam, pray forbear this tragic vein +In such a time and place-- + +ROS. +And now again +Within that square of darkness, look! a light +That feels its way with hesitating pulse, +As we do, through the darkness that it drives +To blacken into deeper night beyond. + +FIFE. +In which could we follow that light's example, +As might some English Bardolph with his nose, +We might defy the sunset--Hark, a chain! + +ROS. +And now a lamp, a lamp! And now the hand +That carries it. + +FIFE. +Oh, Lord! that dreadful chain! + +ROS. +And now the bearer of the lamp; indeed +As strange as any in Arabian tale, +So giant-like, and terrible, and grand, +Spite of the skin he's wrapt in. + +FIFE. +Why, 'tis his own: +Oh, 'tis some wild man of the woods; I've heard +They build and carry torches-- + +ROS. +Never Ape +Bore such a brow before the heavens as that-- +Chain'd as you say too!-- + +FIFE. +Oh, that dreadful chain! + +ROS. +And now he sets the lamp down by his side, +And with one hand clench'd in his tangled hair +And with a sigh as if his heart would break-- + +(During this Segismund has entered from the fortress, with a torch.) + +SEGISMUND. +Once more the storm has roar'd itself away, +Splitting the crags of God as it retires; +But sparing still what it should only blast, +This guilty piece of human handiwork, +And all that are within it. Oh, how oft, +How oft, within or here abroad, have I +Waited, and in the whisper of my heart +Pray'd for the slanting hand of heaven to strike +The blow myself I dared not, out of fear +Of that Hereafter, worse, they say, than here, +Plunged headlong in, but, till dismissal waited, +To wipe at last all sorrow from men's eyes, +And make this heavy dispensation clear. +Thus have I borne till now, and still endure, +Crouching in sullen impotence day by day, +Till some such out-burst of the elements +Like this rouses the sleeping fire within; +And standing thus upon the threshold of +Another night about to close the door +Upon one wretched day to open it +On one yet wretcheder because one more;-- +Once more, you savage heavens, I ask of you-- +I, looking up to those relentless eyes +That, now the greater lamp is gone below, +Begin to muster in the listening skies; +In all the shining circuits you have gone +About this theatre of human woe, +What greater sorrow have you gazed upon +Than down this narrow chink you witness still; +And which, did you yourselves not fore-devise, +You registered for others to fulfil! + +FIFE. +This is some Laureate at a birthday ode; +No wonder we went rhyming. + +ROS. +Hush! And now +See, starting to his feet, he strides about +Far as his tether'd steps-- + +SEG. +And if the chain +You help'd to rivet round me did contract +Since guiltless infancy from guilt in act; +Of what in aspiration or in thought +Guilty, but in resentment of the wrong +That wreaks revenge on wrong I never wrought +By excommunication from the free +Inheritance that all created life, +Beside myself, is born to--from the wings +That range your own immeasurable blue, +Down to the poor, mute, scale-imprison'd things, +That yet are free to wander, glide, and pass +About that under-sapphire, whereinto +Yourselves transfusing you yourselves englass! + +ROS. +What mystery is this? + +FIFE. +Why, the man's mad: +That's all the mystery. That's why he's chain'd-- +And why-- + +SEG. +Nor Nature's guiltless life alone-- +But that which lives on blood and rapine; nay, +Charter'd with larger liberty to slay +Their guiltless kind, the tyrants of the air +Soar zenith-upward with their screaming prey, +Making pure heaven drop blood upon the stage +Of under earth, where lion, wolf, and bear, +And they that on their treacherous velvet wear +Figure and constellation like your own, +With their still living slaughter bound away +Over the barriers of the mountain cage, +Against which one, blood-guiltless, and endued +With aspiration and with aptitude +Transcending other creatures, day by day +Beats himself mad with unavailing rage! + +FIFE. +Why, that must be the meaning of my mule's +Rebellion-- + +ROS. +Hush! + +SEG. +But then if murder be +The law by which not only conscience-blind +Creatures, but man too prospers with his kind; +Who leaving all his guilty fellows free, +Under your fatal auspice and divine +Compulsion, leagued in some mysterious ban +Against one innocent and helpless man, +Abuse their liberty to murder mine: +And sworn to silence, like their masters mute +In heaven, and like them twirling through the mask +Of darkness, answering to all I ask, +Point up to them whose work they execute! + +ROS. +Ev'n as I thought, some poor unhappy wretch, +By man wrong'd, wretched, unrevenged, as I! +Nay, so much worse than I, as by those chains +Clipt of the means of self-revenge on those +Who lay on him what they deserve. And I, +Who taunted Heaven a little while ago +With pouring all its wrath upon my head-- +Alas! like him who caught the cast-off husk +Of what another bragg'd of feeding on, +Here's one that from the refuse of my sorrows +Could gather all the banquet he desires! +Poor soul, poor soul! + +FIFE. +Speak lower--he will hear you. + +ROS. +And if he should, what then? Why, if he would, +He could not harm me--Nay, and if he could, +Methinks I'd venture something of a life +I care so little for-- + +SEG. +Who's that? Clotaldo? Who are you, I say, +That, venturing in these forbidden rocks, +Have lighted on my miserable life, +And your own death? + +ROS. +You would not hurt me, surely? + +SEG. +Not I; but those that, iron as the chain +In which they slay me with a lingering death, +Will slay you with a sudden--Who are you? + +ROS. +A stranger from across the mountain there, +Who, having lost his way in this strange land +And coming night, drew hither to what seem'd +A human dwelling hidden in these rocks, +And where the voice of human sorrow soon +Told him it was so. + +SEG. +Ay? But nearer--nearer-- +That by this smoky supplement of day +But for a moment I may see who speaks +So pitifully sweet. + +FIFE. +Take care! take care! + +ROS. +Alas, poor man, that I, myself so helpless, +Could better help you than by barren pity, +And my poor presence-- + +SEG. +Oh, might that be all! +But that--a few poor moments--and, alas! +The very bliss of having, and the dread +Of losing, under such a penalty +As every moment's having runs more near, +Stifles the very utterance and resource +They cry for quickest; till from sheer despair +Of holding thee, methinks myself would tear +To pieces-- + +FIFE. +There, his word's enough for it. + +SEG. +Oh, think, if you who move about at will, +And live in sweet communion with your kind, +After an hour lost in these lonely rocks +Hunger and thirst after some human voice +To drink, and human face to feed upon; +What must one do where all is mute, or harsh, +And ev'n the naked face of cruelty +Were better than the mask it works beneath?-- +Across the mountain then! Across the mountain! +What if the next world which they tell one of +Be only next across the mountain then, +Though I must never see it till I die, +And you one of its angels? + +ROS. +Alas; alas! +No angel! And the face you think so fair, +'Tis but the dismal frame-work of these rocks +That makes it seem so; and the world I come from-- +Alas, alas, too many faces there +Are but fair vizors to black hearts below, +Or only serve to bring the wearer woe! +But to yourself--If haply the redress +That I am here upon may help to yours. +I heard you tax the heavens with ordering, +And men for executing, what, alas! +I now behold. But why, and who they are +Who do, and you who suffer-- + +SEG. (pointing upwards). +Ask of them, +Whom, as to-night, I have so often ask'd, +And ask'd in vain. + +ROS. +But surely, surely-- + +SEG. +Hark! +The trumpet of the watch to shut us in. +Oh, should they find you!--Quick! Behind the rocks! +To-morrow--if to-morrow-- + +ROS. (flinging her sword toward him). +Take my sword! + +(Rosaura and Fife hide in the rocks; Enter Clotaldo) + +CLOTALDO. +These stormy days you like to see the last of +Are but ill opiates, Segismund, I think, +For night to follow: and to-night you seem +More than your wont disorder'd. What! A sword? +Within there! + +(Enter Soldiers with black vizors and torches) + +FIFE. +Here's a pleasant masquerade! + +CLO. +Whosever watch this was +Will have to pay head-reckoning. Meanwhile, +This weapon had a wearer. Bring him here, +Alive or dead. + +SEG. +Clotaldo! good Clotaldo!-- + +CLO. (to Soldiers who enclose Segismund; others searching the rocks). +You know your duty. + +SOLDIERS (bringing in Rosaura and Fife). +Here are two of them, +Whoever more to follow-- + +CLO. +Who are you, +That in defiance of known proclamation +Are found, at night-fall too, about this place? + +FIFE. +Oh, my Lord, she--I mean he-- + +ROS. +Silence, Fife, +And let me speak for both.--Two foreign men, +To whom your country and its proclamations +Are equally unknown; and had we known, +Ourselves not masters of our lawless beasts +That, terrified by the storm among your rocks, +Flung us upon them to our cost. + +FIFE. +My mule-- + +CLO. +Foreigners? Of what country? + +ROS. +Muscovy. + +CLO. +And whither bound? + +ROS. +Hither--if this be Poland; +But with no ill design on her, and therefore +Taking it ill that we should thus be stopt +Upon her threshold so uncivilly. + +CLO. +Whither in Poland? + +ROS. +To the capital. + +CLO. +And on what errand? + +ROS. +Set me on the road, +And you shall be the nearer to my answer. + +CLO. (aside). +So resolute and ready to reply, +And yet so young--and-- +(Aloud.) +Well,-- +Your business was not surely with the man +We found you with? + +ROS. +He was the first we saw,-- +And strangers and benighted, as we were, +As you too would have done in a like case, +Accosted him at once. + +CLO. +Ay, but this sword? + +ROS. +I flung it toward him. + +CLO. +Well, and why? + +ROS. +And why? But to revenge himself on those who thus +Injuriously misuse him. + +CLO. +So--so--so! +'Tis well such resolution wants a beard +And, I suppose, is never to attain one. +Well, I must take you both, you and your sword, +Prisoners. + +FIFE. (offering a cudgel). +Pray take mine, and welcome, sir; +I'm sure I gave it to that mule of mine +To mighty little purpose. + +ROS. +Mine you have; +And may it win us some more kindliness +Than we have met with yet. + +CLO (examining the sword). +More mystery! +How came you by this weapon? + +ROS. +From my father. + +CLO. +And do you know whence he? + +ROS. +Oh, very well: +From one of this same Polish realm of yours, +Who promised a return, should come the chance, +Of courtesies that he received himself +In Muscovy, and left this pledge of it-- +Not likely yet, it seems, to be redeem'd. + +CLO (aside). +Oh, wondrous chance--or wondrous Providence! +The sword that I myself in Muscovy, +When these white hairs were black, for keepsake left +Of obligation for a like return +To him who saved me wounded as I lay +Fighting against his country; took me home; +Tended me like a brother till recover'd, +Perchance to fight against him once again +And now my sword put back into my hand +By his--if not his son--still, as so seeming, +By me, as first devoir of gratitude, +To seem believing, till the wearer's self +See fit to drop the ill-dissembling mask. +(Aloud.) +Well, a strange turn of fortune has arrested +The sharp and sudden penalty that else +Had visited your rashness or mischance: +In part, your tender youth too--pardon me, +And touch not where your sword is not to answer-- +Commends you to my care; not your life only, +Else by this misadventure forfeited; +But ev'n your errand, which, by happy chance, +Chimes with the very business I am on, +And calls me to the very point you aim at. + +ROS. +The capital? + +CLO. +Ay, the capital; and ev'n +That capital of capitals, the Court: +Where you may plead, and, I may promise, win +Pardon for this, you say unwilling, trespass, +And prosecute what else you have at heart, +With me to help you forward all I can; +Provided all in loyalty to those +To whom by natural allegiance +I first am bound to. + +ROS. +As you make, I take +Your offer: with like promise on my side +Of loyalty to you and those you serve, +Under like reservation for regards +Nearer and dearer still. + +CLO. +Enough, enough; +Your hand; a bargain on both sides. Meanwhile, +Here shall you rest to-night. The break of day +Shall see us both together on the way. + +ROS. +Thus then what I for misadventure blamed, +Directly draws me where my wishes aim'd. + +(Exeunt.) + + + +SCENE II. +The Palace at Warsaw + + +Enter on one side Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, with his train: and, on +the other, the Princess Estrella, with hers. + +ASTOLFO. +My royal cousin, if so near in blood, +Till this auspicious meeting scarcely known, +Till all that beauty promised in the bud +Is now to its consummate blossom blown, +Well met at last; and may-- + +ESTRELLA. +Enough, my Lord, +Of compliment devised for you by some +Court tailor, and, believe me, still too short +To cover the designful heart below. + +AST. +Nay, but indeed, fair cousin-- + +EST. +Ay, let Deed +Measure your words, indeed your flowers of speech +Ill with your iron equipage atone; +Irony indeed, and wordy compliment. + +AST. +Indeed, indeed, you wrong me, royal cousin, +And fair as royal, misinterpreting +What, even for the end you think I aim at, +If false to you, were fatal to myself. + +EST. +Why, what else means the glittering steel, my Lord, +That bristles in the rear of these fine words? +What can it mean, but, failing to cajole, +To fight or force me from my just pretension? + +AST. +Nay, might I not ask ev'n the same of you, +The nodding helmets of whose men-at-arms +Out-crest the plumage of your lady court? + +EST. +But to defend what yours would force from me. + +AST. +Might not I, lady, say the same of mine? +But not to come to battle, ev'n of words, +With a fair lady, and my kinswoman; +And as averse to stand before your face, +Defenceless, and condemn'd in your disgrace, +Till the good king be here to clear it all-- +Will you vouchsafe to hear me? + +EST. +As you will. + +AST. +You know that, when about to leave this world, +Our royal grandsire, King Alfonso, left +Three children; one a son, Basilio, +Who wears--long may he wear! the crown of Poland; +And daughters twain: of whom the elder was +Your mother, Clorilena, now some while +Exalted to a more than mortal throne; +And Recisunda, mine, the younger sister, +Who, married to the Prince of Muscovy, +Gave me the light which may she live to see +Herself for many, many years to come. +Meanwhile, good King Basilio, as you know, +Deep in abstruser studies than this world, +And busier with the stars than lady's eyes, +Has never by a second marriage yet +Replaced, as Poland ask'd of him, the heir +An early marriage brought and took away; +His young queen dying with the son she bore him; +And in such alienation grown so old +As leaves no other hope of heir to Poland +Than his two sisters' children; you, fair cousin, +And me; for whom the Commons of the realm +Divide themselves into two several factions; +Whether for you, the elder sister's child; +Or me, born of the younger, but, they say, +My natural prerogative of man +Outweighing your priority of birth. +Which discord growing loud and dangerous, +Our uncle, King Basilio, doubly sage +In prophesying and providing for +The future, as to deal with it when come, +Bids us here meet to-day in solemn council +Our several pretensions to compose. +And, but the martial out-burst that proclaims +His coming, makes all further parley vain, +Unless my bosom, by which only wise +I prophesy, now wrongly prophesies, +By such a happy compact as I dare +But glance at till the Royal Sage declare. + +(Trumpets, etc. Enter King Basilio with his Council.) + +ALL. +The King! God save the King! + +ESTRELLA (Kneeling.) +Oh, Royal Sir!-- + +ASTOLFO (Kneeling.) +God save your Majesty-- + +KING. +Rise both of you, +Rise to my arms, Astolfo and Estrella; +As my two sisters' children always mine, +Now more than ever, since myself and Poland +Solely to you for our succession look'd. +And now give ear, you and your several factions, +And you, the Peers and Princes of this realm, +While I reveal the purport of this meeting +In words whose necessary length I trust +No unsuccessful issue shall excuse. +You and the world who have surnamed me "Sage" +Know that I owe that title, if my due, +To my long meditation on the book +Which ever lying open overhead-- +The book of heaven, I mean--so few have read; +Whose golden letters on whose sapphire leaf, +Distinguishing the page of day and night, +And all the revolution of the year; +So with the turning volume where they lie +Still changing their prophetic syllables, +They register the destinies of men: +Until with eyes that, dim with years indeed, +Are quicker to pursue the stars than rule them, +I get the start of Time, and from his hand +The wand of tardy revelation draw. +Oh, had the self-same heaven upon his page +Inscribed my death ere I should read my life +And, by fore-casting of my own mischance, +Play not the victim but the suicide +In my own tragedy!--But you shall hear. +You know how once, as kings must for their people, +And only once, as wise men for themselves, +I woo'd and wedded: know too that my Queen +In childing died; but not, as you believe, +With her, the son she died in giving life to. +For, as the hour of birth was on the stroke, +Her brain conceiving with her womb, she dream'd +A serpent tore her entrail. And too surely +(For evil omen seldom speaks in vain) +The man-child breaking from that living tomb +That makes our birth the antitype of death, +Man-grateful, for the life she gave him paid +By killing her: and with such circumstance +As suited such unnatural tragedy; +He coming into light, if light it were +That darken'd at his very horoscope, +When heaven's two champions--sun and moon I mean-- +Suffused in blood upon each other fell +In such a raging duel of eclipse +As hath not terrified the universe +Since that which wept in blood the death of Christ: +When the dead walk'd, the waters turn'd to blood, +Earth and her cities totter'd, and the world +Seem'd shaken to its last paralysis. +In such a paroxysm of dissolution +That son of mine was born; by that first act +Heading the monstrous catalogue of crime, +I found fore-written in his horoscope; +As great a monster in man's history +As was in nature his nativity; +So savage, bloody, terrible, and impious, +Who, should he live, would tear his country's entrails, +As by his birth his mother's; with which crime +Beginning, he should clench the dreadful tale +By trampling on his father's silver head. +All which fore-reading, and his act of birth +Fate's warrant that I read his life aright; +To save his country from his mother's fate, +I gave abroad that he had died with her +His being slew; with midnight secrecy +I had him carried to a lonely tower +Hewn from the mountain-barriers of the realm, +And under strict anathema of death +Guarded from men's inquisitive approach, +Save from the trusty few one needs must trust; +Who while his fasten'd body they provide +With salutary garb and nourishment, +Instruct his soul in what no soul may miss +Of holy faith, and in such other lore +As may solace his life-imprisonment, +And tame perhaps the Savage prophesied +Toward such a trial as I aim at now, +And now demand your special hearing to. +What in this fearful business I have done, +Judge whether lightly or maliciously,-- +I, with my own and only flesh and blood, +And proper lineal inheritor! +I swear, had his foretold atrocities +Touch'd me alone. I had not saved myself +At such a cost to him; but as a king,-- +A Christian king,--I say, advisedly, +Who would devote his people to a tyrant +Worse than Caligula fore-chronicled? +But even this not without grave mis-giving, +Lest by some chance mis-reading of the stars, +Or mis-direction of what rightly read, +I wrong my son of his prerogative, +And Poland of her rightful sovereign. +For, sure and certain prophets as the stars, +Although they err not, he who reads them may; +Or rightly reading--seeing there is One +Who governs them, as, under Him, they us, +We are not sure if the rough diagram +They draw in heaven and we interpret here, +Be sure of operation, if the Will +Supreme, that sometimes for some special end +The course of providential nature breaks +By miracle, may not of these same stars +Cancel his own first draft, or overrule +What else fore-written all else overrules. +As, for example, should the Will Almighty +Permit the Free-will of particular man +To break the meshes of else strangling fate-- +Which Free-will, fearful of foretold abuse, +I have myself from my own son fore-closed +From ever possible self-extrication; +A terrible responsibility, +Not to the conscience to be reconciled +Unless opposing almost certain evil +Against so slight contingency of good. +Well--thus perplex'd, I have resolved at last +To bring the thing to trial: whereunto +Here have I summon'd you, my Peers, and you +Whom I more dearly look to, failing him, +As witnesses to that which I propose; +And thus propose the doing it. Clotaldo, +Who guards my son with old fidelity, +Shall bring him hither from his tower by night +Lockt in a sleep so fast as by my art +I rivet to within a link of death, +But yet from death so far, that next day's dawn +Shall wake him up upon the royal bed, +Complete in consciousness and faculty, +When with all princely pomp and retinue +My loyal Peers with due obeisance +Shall hail him Segismund, the Prince of Poland. +Then if with any show of human kindness +He fling discredit, not upon the stars, +But upon me, their misinterpreter, +With all apology mistaken age +Can make to youth it never meant to harm, +To my son's forehead will I shift the crown +I long have wish'd upon a younger brow; +And in religious humiliation, +For what of worn-out age remains to me, +Entreat my pardon both of Heaven and him +For tempting destinies beyond my reach. +But if, as I misdoubt, at his first step +The hoof of the predicted savage shows; +Before predicted mischief can be done, +The self-same sleep that loosed him from the chain +Shall re-consign him, not to loose again. +Then shall I, having lost that heir direct, +Look solely to my sisters' children twain +Each of a claim so equal as divides +The voice of Poland to their several sides, +But, as I trust, to be entwined ere long +Into one single wreath so fair and strong +As shall at once all difference atone, +And cease the realm's division with their own. +Cousins and Princes, Peers and Councillors, +Such is the purport of this invitation, +And such is my design. Whose furtherance +If not as Sovereign, if not as Seer, +Yet one whom these white locks, if nothing else, +to patient acquiescence consecrate, +I now demand and even supplicate. + +AST. +Such news, and from such lips, may well suspend +The tongue to loyal answer most attuned; +But if to me as spokesman of my faction +Your Highness looks for answer; I reply +For one and all--Let Segismund, whom now +We first hear tell of as your living heir, +Appear, and but in your sufficient eye +Approve himself worthy to be your son, +Then we will hail him Poland's rightful heir. +What says my cousin? + +EST. +Ay, with all my heart. +But if my youth and sex upbraid me not +That I should dare ask of so wise a king-- + +KING. +Ask, ask, fair cousin! Nothing, I am sure, +Not well consider'd; nay, if 'twere, yet nothing +But pardonable from such lips as those. + +EST. +Then, with your pardon, Sir--if Segismund, +My cousin, whom I shall rejoice to hail +As Prince of Poland too, as you propose, +Be to a trial coming upon which +More, as I think, than life itself depends, +Why, Sir, with sleep-disorder'd senses brought +To this uncertain contest with his stars? + +KING. +Well ask'd indeed! As wisely be it answer'd! +/Because/ it is uncertain, see you not? +For as I think I can discern between +The sudden flaws of a sleep-startled man, +And of the savage thing we have to dread; +If but bewilder'd, dazzled, and uncouth, +As might the sanest and the civilest +In circumstance so strange--nay, more than that, +If moved to any out-break short of blood, +All shall be well with him; and how much more, +If 'mid the magic turmoil of the change, +He shall so calm a resolution show +As scarce to reel beneath so great a blow! +But if with savage passion uncontroll'd +He lay about him like the brute foretold, +And must as suddenly be caged again; +Then what redoubled anguish and despair, +From that brief flash of blissful liberty +Remitted--and for ever--to his chain! +Which so much less, if on the stage of glory +Enter'd and exited through such a door +Of sleep as makes a dream of all between. + +EST. +Oh kindly answer, Sir, to question that +To charitable courtesy less wise +Might call for pardon rather! I shall now +Gladly, what, uninstructed, loyally +I should have waited. + +AST. +Your Highness doubts not me, +Nor how my heart follows my cousin's lips, +Whatever way the doubtful balance fall, +Still loyal to your bidding. + +OMNES. +So say all. + +KING. +I hoped, and did expect, of all no less-- +And sure no sovereign ever needed more +From all who owe him love or loyalty. +For what a strait of time I stand upon, +When to this issue not alone I bring +My son your Prince, but e'en myself your King: +And, whichsoever way for him it turn, +Of less than little honour to myself. +For if this coming trial justify +My thus withholding from my son his right, +Is not the judge himself justified in +The father's shame? And if the judge proved wrong, +My son withholding from his right thus long, +Shame and remorse to judge and father both: +Unless remorse and shame together drown'd +In having what I flung for worthless found. +But come--already weary with your travel, +And ill refresh'd by this strange history, +Until the hours that draw the sun from heaven +Unite us at the customary board, +Each to his several chamber: you to rest; +I to contrive with old Clotaldo best +The method of a stranger thing than old +Time has a yet among his records told. + +Exeunt. + + + +ACT II + + + +SCENE I--A Throne-room in the Palace. Music within. + + +(Enter King and Clotaldo, meeting a Lord in waiting) + +KING. +You, for a moment beckon'd from your office, +Tell me thus far how goes it. In due time +The potion left him? + +LORD. +At the very hour +To which your Highness temper'd it. Yet not +So wholly but some lingering mist still hung +About his dawning senses--which to clear, +We fill'd and handed him a morning drink +With sleep's specific antidote suffused; +And while with princely raiment we invested +What nature surely modell'd for a Prince-- +All but the sword--as you directed-- + +KING. +Ay-- + +LORD. +If not too loudly, yet emphatically +Still with the title of a Prince address'd him. + +KING. +How bore he that? + +LORD. +With all the rest, my liege, +I will not say so like one in a dream +As one himself misdoubting that he dream'd. + +KING. +So far so well, Clotaldo, either way, +And best of all if tow'rd the worse I dread. +But yet no violence? + +LORD. +At most, impatience; +Wearied perhaps with importunities +We yet were bound to offer. + +KING. +Oh, Clotaldo! +Though thus far well, yet would myself had drunk +The potion he revives from! such suspense +Crowds all the pulses of life's residue +Into the present moment; and, I think, +Whichever way the trembling scale may turn, +Will leave the crown of Poland for some one +To wait no longer than the setting sun! + +CLO. +Courage, my liege! The curtain is undrawn, +And each must play his part out manfully, +Leaving the rest to heaven. + +KING. +Whose written words +If I should misinterpret or transgress! +But as you say-- +(To the Lord, who exit.) +You, back to him at once; +Clotaldo, you, when he is somewhat used +To the new world of which they call him Prince, +Where place and face, and all, is strange to him, +With your known features and familiar garb +Shall then, as chorus to the scene, accost him, +And by such earnest of that old and too +Familiar world, assure him of the new. +Last in the strange procession, I myself +Will by one full and last development +Complete the plot for that catastrophe +That he must put to all; God grant it be +The crown of Poland on his brows!--Hark! hark!-- +Was that his voice within!--Now louder--Oh, +Clotaldo, what! so soon begun to roar!-- +Again! above the music-- But betide +What may, until the moment, we must hide. + +(Exeunt King and Clotaldo.) + +SEGISMUND (within). +Forbear! I stifle with your perfume! Cease +Your crazy salutations! peace, I say +Begone, or let me go, ere I go mad +With all this babble, mummery, and glare, +For I am growing dangerous--Air! room! air!-- +(He rushes in. Music ceases.) +Oh but to save the reeling brain from wreck +With its bewilder'd senses! +(He covers his eyes for a while.) +What! E'en now +That Babel left behind me, but my eyes +Pursued by the same glamour, that--unless +Alike bewitch'd too--the confederate sense +Vouches for palpable: bright-shining floors +That ring hard answer back to the stamp'd heel, +And shoot up airy columns marble-cold, +That, as they climb, break into golden leaf +And capital, till they embrace aloft +In clustering flower and fruitage over walls +Hung with such purple curtain as the West +Fringes with such a gold; or over-laid +With sanguine-glowing semblances of men, +Each in his all but living action busied, +Or from the wall they look from, with fix'd eyes +Pursuing me; and one most strange of all +That, as I pass'd the crystal on the wall, +Look'd from it--left it--and as I return, +Returns, and looks me face to face again-- +Unless some false reflection of my brain, +The outward semblance of myself--Myself? +How know that tawdry shadow for myself, +But that it moves as I move; lifts his hand +With mine; each motion echoing so close +The immediate suggestion of the will +In which myself I recognize--Myself!-- +What, this fantastic Segismund the same +Who last night, as for all his nights before, +Lay down to sleep in wolf-skin on the ground +In a black turret which the wolf howl'd round, +And woke again upon a golden bed, +Round which as clouds about a rising sun, +In scarce less glittering caparison, +Gather'd gay shapes that, underneath a breeze +Of music, handed him upon their knees +The wine of heaven in a cup of gold, +And still in soft melodious under-song +Hailing me Prince of Poland!--'Segismund,' +They said, 'Our Prince! The Prince of Poland!' and +Again, 'Oh, welcome, welcome, to his own, +'Our own Prince Segismund--' +Oh, but a blast-- +One blast of the rough mountain air! one look +At the grim features-- +(He goes to the window.) +What they disvizor'd also! shatter'd chaos +Cast into stately shape and masonry, +Between whose channel'd and perspective sides +Compact with rooted towers, and flourishing +To heaven with gilded pinnacle and spire, +Flows the live current ever to and fro +With open aspect and free step!--Clotaldo! +Clotaldo!--calling as one scarce dares call +For him who suddenly might break the spell +One fears to walk without him--Why, that I, +With unencumber'd step as any there, +Go stumbling through my glory--feeling for +That iron leading-string--ay, for myself-- +For that fast-anchor'd self of yesterday, +Of yesterday, and all my life before, +Ere drifted clean from self-identity +Upon the fluctuation of to-day's +Mad whirling circumstance!--And, fool, why not? +If reason, sense, and self-identity +Obliterated from a worn-out brain, +Art thou not maddest striving to be sane, +And catching at that Self of yesterday +That, like a leper's rags, best flung away! +Or if not mad, then dreaming--dreaming?--well-- +Dreaming then--Or, if self to self be true, +Not mock'd by that, but as poor souls have been +By those who wrong'd them, to give wrong new relish? +Or have those stars indeed they told me of +As masters of my wretched life of old, +Into some happier constellation roll'd, +And brought my better fortune out on earth +Clear as themselves in heaven!--Prince Segismund +They call'd me--and at will I shook them off-- +Will they return again at my command +Again to call me so?--Within there! You! +Segismund calls--Prince Segismund-- + +(He has seated himself on the throne. Enter Chamberlain, with lords in +waiting.) + +CHAMB. +I rejoice +That unadvised of any but the voice +Of royal instinct in the blood, your Highness +Has ta'en the chair that you were born to fill. + +SEG. +The chair? + +CHAMB. +The royal throne of Poland, Sir, +Which may your Royal Highness keep as long +As he that now rules from it shall have ruled +When heaven has call'd him to itself. + +SEG. +When he?-- + +CHAMB. +Your royal father, King Basilio, Sir. + +SEG. +My royal father--King Basilio. +You see I answer but as Echo does, +Not knowing what she listens or repeats. +This is my throne--this is my palace--Oh, +But this out of the window?-- + +CHAMB. +Warsaw, Sir, +Your capital-- + +SEG. +And all the moving people? + +CHAMB. +Your subjects and your vassals like ourselves. + +SEG. +Ay, ay--my subjects--in my capital-- +Warsaw--and I am Prince of it--You see +It needs much iteration to strike sense +Into the human echo. + +CHAMB. +Left awhile +In the quick brain, the word will quickly to +Full meaning blow. + +SEG. +You think so? + +CHAMB. +And meanwhile +Lest our obsequiousness, which means no worse +Than customary honour to the Prince +We most rejoice to welcome, trouble you, +Should we retire again? or stand apart? +Or would your Highness have the music play +Again, which meditation, as they say, +So often loves to float upon? + +SEG. +The music? +No--yes--perhaps the trumpet-- +(Aside) +Yet if that +Brought back the troop! + +A LORD. +The trumpet! There again +How trumpet-like spoke out the blood of Poland! + +CHAMB. +Before the morning is far up, your Highness +Will have the trumpet marshalling your soldiers +Under the Palace windows. + +SEG. +Ah, my soldiers-- +My soldiers--not black-vizor'd?-- + +CHAMB. +Sir? + +SEG. +No matter. +But--one thing--for a moment--in your ear-- +Do you know one Clotaldo? + +CHAMB. +Oh, my Lord, +He and myself together, I may say, +Although in different vocations, +Have silver'd in your royal father's service; +And, as I trust, with both of us a few +White hairs to fall in yours. + +SEG. +Well said, well said! +Basilio, my father--well--Clotaldo +Is he my kinsman too? + +CHAMB. +Oh, my good Lord, +A General simply in your Highness' service, +Than whom your Highness has no trustier. + +SEG. +Ay, so you said before, I think. And you +With that white wand of yours-- +Why, now I think on't, I have read of such +A silver-hair'd magician with a wand, +Who in a moment, with a wave of it, +Turn'd rags to jewels, clowns to emperors, +By some benigner magic than the stars +Spirited poor good people out of hand +From all their woes; in some enchanted sleep +Carried them off on cloud or dragon-back +Over the mountains, over the wide Deep, +And set them down to wake in Fairyland. + +CHAMB. +Oh, my good Lord, you laugh at me--and I +Right glad to make you laugh at such a price: +You know me no enchanter: if I were, +I and my wand as much as your Highness', +As now your chamberlain-- + +SEG. +My chamberlain?-- +And these that follow you?-- + +CHAMB. +On you, my Lord, +Your Highness' lords in waiting. + +SEG. +Lords in waiting. +Well, I have now learn'd to repeat, I think, +If only but by rote--This is my palace, +And this my throne--which unadvised--And that +Out of the window there my Capital; +And all the people moving up and down +My subjects and my vassals like yourselves, +My chamberlain--and lords in waiting--and +Clotaldo--and Clotaldo?-- +You are an aged, and seem a reverend man-- +You do not--though his fellow-officer-- +You do not mean to mock me? + +CHAMB. +Oh, my Lord! + +SEG. +Well then--If no magician, as you say, +Yet setting me a riddle, that my brain, +With all its senses whirling, cannot solve, +Yourself or one of these with you must answer-- +How I--that only last night fell asleep +Not knowing that the very soil of earth +I lay down--chain'd--to sleep upon was Poland-- +Awake to find myself the Lord of it, +With Lords, and Generals, and Chamberlains, +And ev'n my very Gaoler, for my vassals! + +Enter suddenly Clotaldo + +CLOTALDO. +Stand all aside +That I may put into his hand the clue +To lead him out of this amazement. Sir, +Vouchsafe your Highness from my bended knee +Receive my homage first. + +SEG. +Clotaldo! What, +At last--his old self--undisguised where all +Is masquerade--to end it!--You kneeling too! +What! have the stars you told me long ago +Laid that old work upon you, added this, +That, having chain'd your prisoner so long, +You loose his body now to slay his wits, +Dragging him--how I know not--whither scarce +I understand--dressing him up in all +This frippery, with your dumb familiars +Disvizor'd, and their lips unlock'd to lie, +Calling him Prince and King, and, madman-like, +Setting a crown of straw upon his head? + +CLO. +Would but your Highness, as indeed I now +Must call you--and upon his bended knee +Never bent Subject more devotedly-- +However all about you, and perhaps +You to yourself incomprehensiblest, +But rest in the assurance of your own +Sane waking senses, by these witnesses +Attested, till the story of it all, +Of which I bring a chapter, be reveal'd, +Assured of all you see and hear as neither +Madness nor mockery-- + +SEG. +What then? + +CLO. +All it seems: +This palace with its royal garniture; +This capital of which it is the eye, +With all its temples, marts, and arsenals; +This realm of which this city is the head, +With all its cities, villages, and tilth, +Its armies, fleets, and commerce; all your own; +And all the living souls that make them up, +From those who now, and those who shall, salute you, +Down to the poorest peasant of the realm, +Your subjects--Who, though now their mighty voice +Sleeps in the general body unapprized, +Wait but a word from those about you now +To hail you Prince of Poland, Segismund. + +SEG. +All this is so? + +CLO. +As sure as anything +Is, or can be. + +SEG. +You swear it on the faith +You taught me--elsewhere?-- + +CLO (kissing the hilt of his sword). +Swear it upon this Symbol, +and champion of the holy faith +I wear it to defend. + +SEG (to himself). +My eyes have not deceived me, nor my ears, +With this transfiguration, nor the strain +Of royal welcome that arose and blew, +Breathed from no lying lips, along with it. +For here Clotaldo comes, his own old self, +Who, if not Lie and phantom with the rest-- +(Aloud) +Well, then, all this is thus. +For have not these fine people told me so, +And you, Clotaldo, sworn it? And the Why +And Wherefore are to follow by and bye! +And yet--and yet--why wait for that which you +Who take your oath on it can answer--and +Indeed it presses hard upon my brain-- +What I was asking of these gentlemen +When you came in upon us; how it is +That I--the Segismund you know so long +No longer than the sun that rose to-day +Rose--and from what you know-- +Rose to be Prince of Poland? + +CLO. +So to be +Acknowledged and entreated, Sir. + +SEG. +So be +Acknowledged and entreated-- +Well--But if now by all, by some at least +So known--if not entreated--heretofore-- +Though not by you--For, now I think again, +Of what should be your attestation worth, +You that of all my questionable subjects +Who knowing what, yet left me where I was, +You least of all, Clotaldo, till the dawn +Of this first day that told it to myself? + +CLO. +Oh, let your Highness draw the line across +Fore-written sorrow, and in this new dawn +Bury that long sad night. + +SEG. +Not ev'n the Dead, +Call'd to the resurrection of the blest, +Shall so directly drop all memory +Of woes and wrongs foregone! + +CLO. +But not resent-- +Purged by the trial of that sorrow past +For full fruition of their present bliss. + +SEG. +But leaving with the Judge what, till this earth +Be cancell'd in the burning heavens, He leaves +His earthly delegates to execute, +Of retribution in reward to them +And woe to those who wrong'd them--Not as you, +Not you, Clotaldo, knowing not--And yet +Ev'n to the guiltiest wretch in all the realm, +Of any treason guilty short of that, +Stern usage--but assuredly not knowing, +Not knowing 'twas your sovereign lord, Clotaldo, +You used so sternly. + +CLO. +Ay, sir; with the same +Devotion and fidelity that now +Does homage to him for my sovereign. + +SEG. +Fidelity that held his Prince in chains! + +CLO. +Fidelity more fast than had it loosed him-- + +SEG. +Ev'n from the very dawn of consciousness +Down at the bottom of the barren rocks, +Where scarce a ray of sunshine found him out, +In which the poorest beggar of my realm +At least to human-full proportion grows-- +Me! Me--whose station was the kingdom's top +To flourish in, reaching my head to heaven, +And with my branches overshadowing +The meaner growth below! + +CLO. +Still with the same +Fidelity-- + +SEG. +To me!-- + +CLO. +Ay, sir, to you, +Through that divine allegiance upon which +All Order and Authority is based; +Which to revolt against-- + +SEG. +Were to revolt +Against the stars, belike! + +CLO. +And him who reads them; +And by that right, and by the sovereignty +He wears as you shall wear it after him; +Ay, one to whom yourself-- +Yourself, ev'n more than any subject here, +Are bound by yet another and more strong +Allegiance--King Basilio--your Father-- + +SEG. +Basilio--King--my father!-- + +CLO. +Oh, my Lord, +Let me beseech you on my bended knee, +For your own sake--for Poland's--and for his, +Who, looking up for counsel to the skies, +Did what he did under authority +To which the kings of earth themselves are subject, +And whose behest not only he that suffers, +But he that executes, not comprehends, +But only He that orders it-- + +SEG. +The King-- +My father!--Either I am mad already, +Or that way driving fast--or I should know +That fathers do not use their children so, +Or men were loosed from all allegiance +To fathers, kings, and heaven that order'd all. +But, mad or not, my hour is come, and I +Will have my reckoning--Either you lie, +Under the skirt of sinless majesty +Shrouding your treason; or if /that/ indeed, +Guilty itself, take refuge in the stars +That cannot hear the charge, or disavow-- +You, whether doer or deviser, who +Come first to hand, shall pay the penalty +By the same hand you owe it to-- +(Seizing Clotaldo's sword and about to strike him.) + +(Enter Rosaura suddenly.) + +ROSAURA. +Fie, my Lord--forbear, +What! a young hand raised against silver hair!-- + +(She retreats through the crowd.) + +SEG. +Stay! stay! What come and vanish'd as before-- +I scarce remember how--but-- + +(Voices within. Room for Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy!) + +(Enter Astolfo) + +ASTOLFO. +Welcome, thrice welcome, the auspicious day, +When from the mountain where he darkling lay, +The Polish sun into the firmament +Sprung all the brighter for his late ascent, +And in meridian glory-- + +SEG. +Where is he? +Why must I ask this twice?-- + +A LORD. +The Page, my Lord? +I wonder at his boldness-- + +SEG. +But I tell you +He came with Angel written in his face +As now it is, when all was black as hell +About, and none of you who now--he came, +And Angel-like flung me a shining sword +To cut my way through darkness; and again +Angel-like wrests it from me in behalf +Of one--whom I will spare for sparing him: +But he must come and plead with that same voice +That pray'd for me--in vain. + +CHAMB. +He is gone for, +And shall attend your pleasure, sir. Meanwhile, +Will not your Highness, as in courtesy, +Return your royal cousin's greeting? + +SEG. +Whose? + +CHAMB. +Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, my Lord, +Saluted, and with gallant compliment +Welcomed you to your royal title. + +SEG. (to Astolfo). +Oh-- +You knew of this then? + +AST. +Knew of what, my Lord? + +SEG. +That I was Prince of Poland all the while, +And you my subject? + +AST. +Pardon me, my Lord, +But some few hours ago myself I learn'd +Your dignity; but, knowing it, no more +Than when I knew it not, your subject. + +SEG. +What then? + +AST. +Your Highness' chamberlain ev'n now has told you; +Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, +Your father's sister's son; your cousin, sir: +And who as such, and in his own right Prince, +Expects from you the courtesy he shows. + +CHAMB. +His Highness is as yet unused to Court, +And to the ceremonious interchange +Of compliment, especially to those +Who draw their blood from the same royal fountain. + +SEG. +Where is the lad? I weary of all this-- +Prince, cousins, chamberlains, and compliments-- +Where are my soldiers? Blow the trumpet, and +With one sharp blast scatter these butterflies +And bring the men of iron to my side, +With whom a king feels like a king indeed! + +(Voices within. Within there! room for the Princess Estrella!) + +(Enter Estrella with Ladies.) + +ESTRELLA. +Welcome, my Lord, right welcome to the throne +That much too long has waited for your coming: +And, in the general voice of Poland, hear +A kinswoman and cousin's no less sincere. + +SEG. +Ay, this is welcome-worth indeed, +And cousin cousin-worth! Oh, I have thus +Over the threshold of the mountain seen, +Leading a bevy of fair stars, the moon +Enter the court of heaven--My kinswoman! +My cousin! But my subject?-- + +EST. +If you please +To count your cousin for your subject, sir, +You shall not find her a disloyal. + +SEG. +Oh, +But there are twin stars in that heavenly face, +That now I know for having over-ruled +Those evil ones that darken'd all my past +And brought me forth from that captivity +To be the slave of her who set me free. + +EST. +Indeed, my Lord, these eyes have no such power +Over the past or present: but perhaps +They brighten at your welcome to supply +The little that a lady's speech commends; +And in the hope that, let whichever be +The other's subject, we may both be friends. + +SEG. +Your hand to that--But why does this warm hand +Shoot a cold shudder through me? + +EST. +In revenge +For likening me to that cold moon, perhaps. + +SEG. +Oh, but the lip whose music tells me so +Breathes of a warmer planet, and that lip +Shall remedy the treason of the hand! +(He catches to embrace her.) + +EST. +Release me, sir! + +CHAMB. +And pardon me, my Lord. +This lady is a Princess absolute, +As Prince he is who just saluted you, +And claims her by affiance. + +SEG. +Hence, old fool, +For ever thrusting that white stick of yours +Between me and my pleasure! + +AST. +This cause is mine. +Forbear, sir-- + +SEG. +What, sir mouth-piece, you again? + +AST. +My Lord, I waive your insult to myself +In recognition of the dignity +You yet are new to, and that greater still +You look in time to wear. But for this lady-- +Whom, if my cousin now, I hope to claim +Henceforth by yet a nearer, dearer name-- + +SEG. +And what care I? She is my cousin too: +And if you be a Prince--well, am not I +Lord of the very soil you stand upon? +By that, and by that right beside of blood +That like a fiery fountain hitherto +Pent in the rock leaps toward her at her touch, +Mine, before all the cousins in Muscovy! +You call me Prince of Poland, and yourselves +My subjects--traitors therefore to this hour, +Who let me perish all my youth away +Chain'd there among the mountains; till, forsooth, +Terrified at your treachery foregone, +You spirit me up here, I know not how, +Popinjay-like invest me like yourselves, +Choke me with scent and music that I loathe, +And, worse than all the music and the scent, +With false, long-winded, fulsome compliment, +That 'Oh, you are my subjects!' and in word +Reiterating still obedience, +Thwart me in deed at every step I take: +When just about to wreak a just revenge +Upon that old arch-traitor of you all, +Filch from my vengeance him I hate; and him +I loved--the first and only face--till this-- +I cared to look on in your ugly court-- +And now when palpably I grasp at last +What hitherto but shadow'd in my dreams-- +Affiances and interferences, +The first who dares to meddle with me more-- +Princes and chamberlains and counsellors, +Touch her who dares!-- + +AST. +That dare I-- + +SEG. (seizing him by the throat). +You dare! + +CHAMB. +My Lord!-- + +A LORD. +His strength's a lion's-- + +(Voices within. The King! The King!--) + +(Enter King.) + +A LORD. +And on a sudden how he stands at gaze +As might a wolf just fasten'd on his prey, +Glaring at a suddenly encounter'd lion. + +KING. +And I that hither flew with open arms +To fold them round my son, must now return +To press them to an empty heart again! +(He sits on the throne.) + +SEG. +That is the King?--My father? +(After a long pause.) +I have heard +That sometimes some blind instinct has been known +To draw to mutual recognition those +Of the same blood, beyond all memory +Divided, or ev'n never met before. +I know not how this is--perhaps in brutes +That live by kindlier instincts--but I know +That looking now upon that head whose crown +Pronounces him a sovereign king, I feel +No setting of the current in my blood +Tow'rd him as sire. How is't with you, old man, +Tow'rd him they call your son?-- + +KING. +Alas! Alas! + +SEG. +Your sorrow, then? + +KING. +Beholding what I do. + +SEG. +Ay, but how know this sorrow that has grown +And moulded to this present shape of man, +As of your own creation? + +KING. +Ev'n from birth. + +SEG. +But from that hour to this, near, as I think, +Some twenty such renewals of the year +As trace themselves upon the barren rocks, +I never saw you, nor you me--unless, +Unless, indeed, through one of those dark masks +Through which a son might fail to recognize +The best of fathers. + +KING. +Be that as you will: +But, now we see each other face to face, +Know me as you I know; which did I not, +By whatsoever signs, assuredly +You were not here to prove it at my risk. + +SEG. +You are my father. +And is it true then, as Clotaldo swears, +'Twas you that from the dawning birth of one +Yourself brought into being,--you, I say, +Who stole his very birthright; not alone +That secondary and peculiar right +Of sovereignty, but even that prime +Inheritance that all men share alike, +And chain'd him--chain'd him!--like a wild beast's whelp. +Among as savage mountains, to this hour? +Answer if this be thus. + +KING. +Oh, Segismund, +In all that I have done that seems to you, +And, without further hearing, fairly seems, +Unnatural and cruel--'twas not I, +But One who writes His order in the sky +I dared not misinterpret nor neglect, +Who knows with what reluctance-- + +SEG. +Oh, those stars, +Those stars, that too far up from human blame +To clear themselves, or careless of the charge, +Still bear upon their shining shoulders all +The guilt men shift upon them! + +KING. +Nay, but think: +Not only on the common score of kind, +But that peculiar count of sovereignty-- +If not behind the beast in brain as heart, +How should I thus deal with my innocent child, +Doubly desired, and doubly dear when come, +As that sweet second-self that all desire, +And princes more than all, to root themselves +By that succession in their people's hearts, +Unless at that superior Will, to which +Not kings alone, but sovereign nature bows? + +SEG. +And what had those same stars to tell of me +That should compel a father and a king +So much against that double instinct? + +KING. +That, +Which I have brought you hither, at my peril, +Against their written warning, to disprove, +By justice, mercy, human kindliness. + +SEG. +And therefore made yourself their instrument +To make your son the savage and the brute +They only prophesied?--Are you not afear'd, +Lest, irrespective as such creatures are +Of such relationship, the brute you made +Revenge the man you marr'd--like sire, like son. +To do by you as you by me have done? + +KING. +You never had a savage heart from me; +I may appeal to Poland. + +SEG. +Then from whom? +If pure in fountain, poison'd by yourself +When scarce begun to flow.--To make a man +Not, as I see, degraded from the mould +I came from, nor compared to those about, +And then to throw your own flesh to the dogs!-- +Why not at once, I say, if terrified +At the prophetic omens of my birth, +Have drown'd or stifled me, as they do whelps +Too costly or too dangerous to keep? + +KING. +That, living, you might learn to live, and rule +Yourself and Poland. + +SEG. +By the means you took +To spoil for either? + +KING. +Nay, but, Segismund! +You know not--cannot know--happily wanting +The sad experience on which knowledge grows, +How the too early consciousness of power +Spoils the best blood; nor whether for your long +Constrain'd disheritance (which, but for me, +Remember, and for my relenting love +Bursting the bond of fate, had been eternal) +You have not now a full indemnity; +Wearing the blossom of your youth unspent +In the voluptuous sunshine of a court, +That often, by too early blossoming, +Too soon deflowers the rose of royalty. + +SEG. +Ay, but what some precocious warmth may spill, +May not an early frost as surely kill? + +KING. +But, Segismund, my son, whose quick discourse +Proves I have not extinguish'd and destroy'd +The Man you charge me with extinguishing, +However it condemn me for the fault +Of keeping a good light so long eclipsed, +Reflect! This is the moment upon which +Those stars, whose eyes, although we see them not, +By day as well as night are on us still, +Hang watching up in the meridian heaven +Which way the balance turns; and if to you-- +As by your dealing God decide it may, +To my confusion!--let me answer it +Unto yourself alone, who shall at once +Approve yourself to be your father's judge, +And sovereign of Poland in his stead, +By justice, mercy, self-sobriety, +And all the reasonable attributes +Without which, impotent to rule himself, +Others one cannot, and one must not rule; +But which if you but show the blossom of-- +All that is past we shall but look upon +As the first out-fling of a generous nature +Rioting in first liberty; and if +This blossom do but promise such a flower +As promises in turn its kindly fruit: +Forthwith upon your brows the royal crown, +That now weighs heavy on my aged brows, +I will devolve; and while I pass away +Into some cloister, with my Maker there +To make my peace in penitence and prayer, +Happily settle the disorder'd realm +That now cries loudly for a lineal heir. + +SEG. +And so-- +When the crown falters on your shaking head, +And slips the sceptre from your palsied hand, +And Poland for her rightful heir cries out; +When not only your stol'n monopoly +Fails you of earthly power, but 'cross the grave +The judgment-trumpet of another world +Calls you to count for your abuse of this; +Then, oh then, terrified by the double danger, +You drag me from my den-- +Boast not of giving up at last the power +You can no longer hold, and never rightly +Held, but in fee for him you robb'd it from; +And be assured your Savage, once let loose, +Will not be caged again so quickly; not +By threat or adulation to be tamed, +Till he have had his quarrel out with those +Who made him what he is. + +KING. +Beware! Beware! +Subdue the kindled Tiger in your eye, +Nor dream that it was sheer necessity +Made me thus far relax the bond of fate, +And, with far more of terror than of hope +Threaten myself, my people, and the State. +Know that, if old, I yet have vigour left +To wield the sword as well as wear the crown; +And if my more immediate issue fail, +Not wanting scions of collateral blood, +Whose wholesome growth shall more than compensate +For all the loss of a distorted stem. + +SEG. +That will I straightway bring to trial--Oh, +After a revelation such as this, +The Last Day shall have little left to show +Of righted wrong and villainy requited! +Nay, Judgment now beginning upon earth, +Myself, methinks, in sight of all my wrongs, +Appointed heaven's avenging minister, +Accuser, judge, and executioner +Sword in hand, cite the guilty--First, as worst, +The usurper of his son's inheritance; +Him and his old accomplice, time and crime +Inveterate, and unable to repay +The golden years of life they stole away. +What, does he yet maintain his state, and keep +The throne he should be judged from? Down with him, +That I may trample on the false white head +So long has worn my crown! Where are my soldiers? +Of all my subjects and my vassals here +Not one to do my bidding? Hark! A trumpet! +The trumpet-- + +(He pauses as the trumpet sounds as in Act I., and masked Soldiers +gradually fill in behind the Throne.) + +KING (rising before his throne). +Ay, indeed, the trumpet blows +A memorable note, to summon those +Who, if forthwith you fall not at the feet +Of him whose head you threaten with the dust, +Forthwith shall draw the curtain of the Past +About you; and this momentary gleam +Of glory that you think to hold life-fast, +So coming, so shall vanish, as a dream. + +SEG. +He prophesies; the old man prophesies; +And, at his trumpet's summons, from the tower +The leash-bound shadows loosen'd after me +My rising glory reach and over-lour-- +But, reach not I my height, he shall not hold, +But with me back to his own darkness! +(He dashes toward the throne and is enclosed by the soldiers.) +Traitors! +Hold off! Unhand me!--Am not I your king? +And you would strangle him!-- +But I am breaking with an inward Fire +Shall scorch you off, and wrap me on the wings +Of conflagration from a kindled pyre +Of lying prophecies and prophet-kings +Above the extinguish'd stars--Reach me the sword +He flung me--Fill me such a bowl of wine +As that you woke the day with-- + +KING. +And shall close,-- +But of the vintage that Clotaldo knows. + +(Exeunt.) + + + +ACT III. + + + +SCENE I.--The Tower, etc., as in Act I. Scene I. +Segismund, as at first, and Clotaldo + + +CLOTALDO. +Princes and princesses, and counsellors +Fluster'd to right and left--my life made at-- +But that was nothing +Even the white-hair'd, venerable King +Seized on--Indeed, you made wild work of it; +And so discover'd in your outward action, +Flinging your arms about you in your sleep, +Grinding your teeth--and, as I now remember, +Woke mouthing out judgment and execution, +On those about you. + +SEG. +Ay, I did indeed. + +CLO. +Ev'n now your eyes stare wild; your hair stands up-- +Your pulses throb and flutter, reeling still +Under the storm of such a dream-- + +SEG. +A dream! +That seem'd as swearable reality +As what I wake in now. + +CLO. +Ay--wondrous how +Imagination in a sleeping brain +Out of the uncontingent senses draws +Sensations strong as from the real touch; +That we not only laugh aloud, and drench +With tears our pillow; but in the agony +Of some imaginary conflict, fight +And struggle--ev'n as you did; some, 'tis thought, +Under the dreamt-of stroke of death have died. + +SEG. +And what so very strange too--In that world +Where place as well as people all was strange, +Ev'n I almost as strange unto myself, +You only, you, Clotaldo--you, as much +And palpably yourself as now you are, +Came in this very garb you ever wore, +By such a token of the past, you said, +To assure me of that seeming present. + +CLO. +Ay? + +SEG. +Ay; and even told me of the very stars +You tell me here of--how in spite of them, +I was enlarged to all that glory. + +CLO. +Ay, By the false spirits' nice contrivance thus +A little truth oft leavens all the false, +The better to delude us. + +SEG. +For you know +'Tis nothing but a dream? + +CLO. +Nay, you yourself +Know best how lately you awoke from that +You know you went to sleep on?-- +Why, have you never dreamt the like before? + +SEG. +Never, to such reality. + +CLO. +Such dreams +Are oftentimes the sleeping exhalations +Of that ambition that lies smouldering +Under the ashes of the lowest fortune; +By which, when reason slumbers, or has lost +The reins of sensible comparison, +We fly at something higher than we are-- +Scarce ever dive to lower--to be kings, +Or conquerors, crown'd with laurel or with gold, +Nay, mounting heaven itself on eagle wings. +Which, by the way, now that I think of it, +May furnish us the key to this high flight +That royal Eagle we were watching, and +Talking of as you went to sleep last night. + +SEG. +Last night? Last night? + +CLO. +Ay, do you not remember +Envying his immunity of flight, +As, rising from his throne of rock, he sail'd +Above the mountains far into the West, +That burn'd about him, while with poising wings +He darkled in it as a burning brand +Is seen to smoulder in the fire it feeds? + +SEG. +Last night--last night--Oh, what a day was that +Between that last night and this sad To-day! + +CLO. +And yet, perhaps, +Only some few dark moments, into which +Imagination, once lit up within +And unconditional of time and space, +Can pour infinities. + +SEG. +And I remember +How the old man they call'd the King, who wore +The crown of gold about his silver hair, +And a mysterious girdle round his waist, +Just when my rage was roaring at its height, +And after which it all was dark again, +Bid me beware lest all should be a dream. + +CLO. +Ay--there another specialty of dreams, +That once the dreamer 'gins to dream he dreams, +His foot is on the very verge of waking. + +SEG. +Would it had been upon the verge of death +That knows no waking-- +Lifting me up to glory, to fall back, +Stunn'd, crippled--wretcheder than ev'n before. + +CLO. +Yet not so glorious, Segismund, if you +Your visionary honour wore so ill +As to work murder and revenge on those +Who meant you well. + +SEG. +Who meant me!--me! their Prince +Chain'd like a felon-- + +CLO. +Stay, stay--Not so fast, +You dream'd the Prince, remember. + +SEG. +Then in dream +Revenged it only. + +CLO. +True. But as they say +Dreams are rough copies of the waking soul +Yet uncorrected of the higher Will, +So that men sometimes in their dreams confess +An unsuspected, or forgotten, self; +One must beware to check--ay, if one may, +Stifle ere born, such passion in ourselves +As makes, we see, such havoc with our sleep, +And ill reacts upon the waking day. +And, by the bye, for one test, Segismund, +Between such swearable realities-- +Since Dreaming, Madness, Passion, are akin +In missing each that salutary rein +Of reason, and the guiding will of man: +One test, I think, of waking sanity +Shall be that conscious power of self-control, +To curb all passion, but much most of all +That evil and vindictive, that ill squares +With human, and with holy canon less, +Which bids us pardon ev'n our enemies, +And much more those who, out of no ill will, +Mistakenly have taken up the rod +Which heaven, they think, has put into their hands. + +SEG. +I think I soon shall have to try again-- +Sleep has not yet done with me. + +CLO. +Such a sleep. +Take my advice--'tis early yet--the sun +Scarce up above the mountain; go within, +And if the night deceived you, try anew +With morning; morning dreams they say come true. + +SEG. +Oh, rather pray for me a sleep so fast +As shall obliterate dream and waking too. + +(Exit into the tower.) + +CLO. +So sleep; sleep fast: and sleep away those two +Night-potions, and the waking dream between +Which dream thou must believe; and, if to see +Again, poor Segismund! that dream must be.-- +And yet, and yet, in these our ghostly lives, +Half night, half day, half sleeping, half awake, +How if our waking life, like that of sleep, +Be all a dream in that eternal life +To which we wake not till we sleep in death? +How if, I say, the senses we now trust +For date of sensible comparison,-- +Ay, ev'n the Reason's self that dates with them, +Should be in essence or intensity +Hereafter so transcended, and awake +To a perceptive subtlety so keen +As to confess themselves befool'd before, +In all that now they will avouch for most? +One man--like this--but only so much longer +As life is longer than a summer's day, +Believed himself a king upon his throne, +And play'd at hazard with his fellows' lives, +Who cheaply dream'd away their lives to him. +The sailor dream'd of tossing on the flood: +The soldier of his laurels grown in blood: +The lover of the beauty that he knew +Must yet dissolve to dusty residue: +The merchant and the miser of his bags +Of finger'd gold; the beggar of his rags: +And all this stage of earth on which we seem +Such busy actors, and the parts we play'd, +Substantial as the shadow of a shade, +And Dreaming but a dream within a dream! + +FIFE. +Was it not said, sir, +By some philosopher as yet unborn, +That any chimney-sweep who for twelve hours +Dreams himself king is happy as the king +Who dreams himself twelve hours a chimney-sweep? + +CLO. +A theme indeed for wiser heads than yours +To moralize upon--How came you here?-- + +FIFE. +Not of my own will, I assure you, sir. +No matter for myself: but I would know +About my mistress--I mean, master-- + +CLO. +Oh, Now I remember--Well, your master-mistress +Is well, and deftly on its errand speeds, +As you shall--if you can but hold your tongue. +Can you? + +FIFE. +I'd rather be at home again. + +CLO. +Where you shall be the quicker if while here +You can keep silence. + +FIFE. +I may whistle, then? +Which by the virtue of my name I do, +And also as a reasonable test +Of waking sanity-- + +CLO. +Well, whistle then; +And for another reason you forgot, +That while you whistle, you can chatter not. +Only remember--if you quit this pass-- + +FIFE. +(His rhymes are out, or he had call'd it spot)-- + +CLO. +A bullet brings you to. +I must forthwith to court to tell the King +The issue of this lamentable day, +That buries all his hope in night. +(To FIFE.) +Farewell. Remember. + +FIFE. +But a moment--but a word! +When shall I see my mis--mas-- + +CLO. +Be content: +All in good time; and then, and not before, +Never to miss your master any more. +(Exit.) + +FIFE. +Such talk of dreaming--dreaming--I begin +To doubt if I be dreaming I am Fife, +Who with a lad who call'd herself a boy +Because--I doubt there's some confusion here-- +He wore no petticoat, came on a time +Riding from Muscovy on half a horse, +Who must have dreamt she was a horse entire, +To cant me off upon my hinder face +Under this tower, wall-eyed and musket-tongued, +With sentinels a-pacing up and down, +Crying All's well when all is far from well, +All the day long, and all the night, until +I dream--if what is dreaming be not waking-- +Of bells a-tolling and processions rolling +With candles, crosses, banners, San-benitos, +Of which I wear the flamy-finingest, +Through streets and places throng'd with fiery faces +To some back platform-- +Oh, I shall take a fire into my hand +With thinking of my own dear Muscovy-- +Only just over that Sierra there, +By which we tumbled headlong into--No-land. +Now, if without a bullet after me, +I could but get a peep of my old home +Perhaps of my own mule to take me there-- +All's still--perhaps the gentlemen within +Are dreaming it is night behind their masks-- +God send 'em a good nightmare!--Now then--Hark! +Voices--and up the rocks--and armed men +Climbing like cats--Puss in the corner then. + +(He hides.) + +(Enter Soldiers cautiously up the rocks.) + +CAPTAIN. +This is the frontier pass, at any rate, +Where Poland ends and Muscovy begins. + +SOLDIER. +We must be close upon the tower, I know, +That half way up the mountain lies ensconced. + +CAPT. +How know you that? + +SOL. +He told me so--the Page +Who put us on the scent. + +SOL. 2. +And, as I think, +Will soon be here to run it down with us. + +CAPT. +Meantime, our horses on these ugly rocks +Useless, and worse than useless with their clatter-- +Leave them behind, with one or two in charge, +And softly, softly, softly. + +SOLDIERS. +--There it is! +--There what? +--The tower--the fortress-- +--That the tower!-- +--That mouse-trap! We could pitch it down the rocks +With our own hands. +--The rocks it hangs among +Dwarf its proportions and conceal its strength; +Larger and stronger than you think. +--No matter; +No place for Poland's Prince to be shut up in. +At it at once! + +CAPT. +No--no--I tell you wait-- +Till those within give signal. For as yet +We know not who side with us, and the fort +Is strong in man and musket. + +SOL. +Shame to wait +For odds with such a cause at stake. + +CAPT. +Because +Of such a cause at stake we wait for odds-- +For if not won at once, for ever lost: +For any long resistance on their part +Would bring Basilio's force to succour them +Ere we had rescued him we come to rescue. +So softly, softly, softly, still-- + +A SOLDIER (discovering Fife). +Hilloa! + +SOLDIERS. +--Hilloa! Here's some one skulking-- +--Seize and gag him! +--Stab him at once, say I: the only way +To make all sure. +--Hold, every man of you! +And down upon your knees!--Why, 'tis the Prince! +--The Prince!-- +--Oh, I should know him anywhere, +And anyhow disguised. +--But the Prince is chain'd. +--And of a loftier presence-- +--'Tis he, I tell you; +Only bewilder'd as he was before. +God save your Royal Highness! On our knees +Beseech you answer us! + +FIFE. +Just as you please. +Well--'tis this country's custom, I suppose, +To take a poor man every now and then +And set him ON the throne; just for the fun +Of tumbling him again into the dirt. +And now my turn is come. 'Tis very pretty. + +SOL. +His wits have been distemper'd with their drugs. +But do you ask him, Captain. + +CAPT. +On my knees, +And in the name of all who kneel with me, +I do beseech your Highness answer to +Your royal title. + +FIFE. +Still, just as you please. +In my own poor opinion of myself-- +But that may all be dreaming, which it seems +Is very much the fashion in this country +No Polish prince at all, but a poor lad +From Muscovy; where only help me back, +I promise never to contest the crown +Of Poland with whatever gentleman +You fancy to set up. + +SOLDIERS. +--From Muscovy? +--A spy then-- +--Of Astolfo's-- +--Spy! a spy +--Hang him at once! + +FIFE. +No, pray don't dream of that! + +SOL. +How dared you then set yourself up for our Prince Segismund? + +FIFE. +/I/ set up!--/I/ like that +When 'twas yourselves be-siegesmunded me. + +CAPT. +No matter--Look!--The signal from the tower. +Prince Segismund! + +SOL. (from the tower). +Prince Segismund! + +CAPT. +All's well. Clotaldo safe secured?-- + +SOL. (from the tower). +No--by ill luck, +Instead of coming in, as we had look'd for, +He sprang on horse at once, and off at gallop. + +CAPT. +To Court, no doubt--a blunder that--And yet +Perchance a blunder that may work as well +As better forethought. Having no suspicion +So will he carry none where his not going +Were of itself suspicious. But of those +Within, who side with us? + +SOL. +Oh, one and all +To the last man, persuaded or compell'd. + +CAPT. +Enough: whatever be to be retrieved +No moment to be lost. For though Clotaldo +Have no revolt to tell of in the tower, +The capital will soon awake to ours, +And the King's force come blazing after us. +Where is the Prince? + +SOL. +Within; so fast asleep +We woke him not ev'n striking off the chain +We had so cursedly help bind him with, +Not knowing what we did; but too ashamed +Not to undo ourselves what we had done. + +CAPT. +No matter, nor by whosesoever hands, +Provided done. Come; we will bring him forth +Out of that stony darkness here abroad, +Where air and sunshine sooner shall disperse +The sleepy fume which they have drugg'd him with. + +(They enter the tower, and thence bring out Segismund asleep on a +pallet, and set him in the middle of the stage.) + +CAPT. +Still, still so dead asleep, the very noise +And motion that we make in carrying him +Stirs not a leaf in all the living tree. + +SOLDIERS. +If living--But if by some inward blow +For ever and irrevocably fell'd +By what strikes deeper to the root than sleep? +--He's dead! He's dead! They've kill'd him-- +--No--he breathes-- +And the heart beats--and now he breathes again +Deeply, as one about to shake away +The load of sleep. + +CAPT. +Come, let us all kneel round, +And with a blast of warlike instruments, +And acclamation of all loyal hearts, +Rouse and restore him to his royal right, +From which no royal wrong shall drive him more. + +(They all kneel round his bed: trumpets, drums, etc.) + +SOLDIERS. +--Segismund! Segismund! Prince Segismund! +--King Segismund! Down with Basilio! +--Down with Astolfo! Segismund our King! etc. +--He stares upon us wildly. He cannot speak. +--I said so--driv'n him mad. +--Speak to him, Captain. + +CAPTAIN. +Oh Royal Segismund, our Prince and King, +Look on us--listen to us--answer us, +Your faithful soldiery and subjects, now +About you kneeling, but on fire to rise +And cleave a passage through your enemies, +Until we seat you on your lawful throne. +For though your father, King Basilio, +Now King of Poland, jealous of the stars +That prophesy his setting with your rise, +Here holds you ignominiously eclipsed, +And would Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, +Mount to the throne of Poland after him; +So will not we, your loyal soldiery +And subjects; neither those of us now first +Apprised of your existence and your right: +Nor those that hitherto deluded by +Allegiance false, their vizors now fling down, +And craving pardon on their knees with us +For that unconscious disloyalty, +Offer with us the service of their blood; +Not only we and they; but at our heels +The heart, if not the bulk, of Poland follows +To join their voices and their arms with ours, +In vindicating with our lives our own +Prince Segismund to Poland and her throne. + +SOLDIERS. +--Segismund, Segismund, Prince Segismund! +--Our own King Segismund, etc. +(They all rise.) + +SEG. +Again? So soon?--What, not yet done with me? +The sun is little higher up, I think, +Than when I last lay down, +To bury in the depth of your own sea +You that infest its shallows. + +CAPT. +Sir! + +SEG. +And now, +Not in a palace, not in the fine clothes +We all were in; but here, in the old place, +And in our old accoutrement-- +Only your vizors off, and lips unlock'd +To mock me with that idle title-- + +CAPT. +Nay, +Indeed no idle title, but your own, +Then, now, and now for ever. For, behold, +Ev'n as I speak, the mountain passes fill +And bristle with the advancing soldiery +That glitters in your rising glory, sir; +And, at our signal, echo to our cry, +'Segismund, King of Poland!' etc. + +(Shouts, trumpets, etc.) + +SEG. +Oh, how cheap +The muster of a countless host of shadows, +As impotent to do with as to keep! +All this they said before--to softer music. + +CAPT. +Soft music, sir, to what indeed were shadows, +That, following the sunshine of a Court, +Shall back be brought with it--if shadows still, +Yet to substantial reckoning. + +SEG. +They shall? +The white-hair'd and white-wanded chamberlain, +So busy with his wand too--the old King +That I was somewhat hard on--he had been +Hard upon me--and the fine feather'd Prince +Who crow'd so loud--my cousin,--and another, +Another cousin, we will not bear hard on-- +And--But Clotaldo? + +CAPT. +Fled, my lord, but close +Pursued; and then-- + +SEG. +Then, as he fled before, +And after he had sworn it on his knees, +Came back to take me--where I am!--No more, +No more of this! Away with you! Begone! +Whether but visions of ambitious night +That morning ought to scatter, or grown out +Of night's proportions you invade the day +To scare me from my little wits yet left, +Begone! I know I must be near awake, +Knowing I dream; or, if not at my voice, +Then vanish at the clapping of my hands, +Or take this foolish fellow for your sport: +Dressing me up in visionary glories, +Which the first air of waking consciousness +Scatters as fast as from the almander-- +That, waking one fine morning in full flower, +One rougher insurrection of the breeze +Of all her sudden honour disadorns +To the last blossom, and she stands again +The winter-naked scare-crow that she was! + +CAPT. +I know not what to do, nor what to say, +With all this dreaming; I begin to doubt +They have driv'n him mad indeed, and he and we +Are lost together. + +A SOLDIER (to Captain). +Stay, stay; I remember-- +Hark in your ear a moment. +(Whispers.) + +CAPT. +So--so--so?-- +Oh, now indeed I do not wonder, sir, +Your senses dazzle under practices +Which treason, shrinking from its own device, +Would now persuade you only was a dream; +But waking was as absolute as this +You wake in now, as some who saw you then, +Prince as you were and are, can testify: +Not only saw, but under false allegiance +Laid hands upon-- + +SOLDIER 1. +I, to my shame! + +SOLDIER 2. +And I! + +CAPT. +Who, to wipe out that shame, have been the first +To stir and lead us--Hark! +(Shouts, trumpets, etc.) + +A SOLDIER. +Our forces, sir, +Challenging King Basilio's, now in sight, +And bearing down upon us. + +CAPT. +Sir, you hear; +A little hesitation and delay, +And all is lost--your own right, and the lives +Of those who now maintain it at that cost; +With you all saved and won; without, all lost. +That former recognition of your right +Grant but a dream, if you will have it so; +Great things forecast themselves by shadows great: +Or will you have it, this like that dream too, +People, and place, and time itself, all dream +Yet, being in't, and as the shadows come +Quicker and thicker than you can escape, +Adopt your visionary soldiery, +Who, having struck a solid chain away, +Now put an airy sword into your hand, +And harnessing you piece-meal till you stand +Amidst us all complete in glittering, +If unsubstantial, steel-- + +ROSAURA (without). +The Prince! The Prince! + +CAPT. +Who calls for him? + +SOL. +The Page who spurr'd us hither, +And now, dismounted from a foaming horse-- + +(Enter Rosaura) + +ROSAURA. +Where is--but where I need no further ask +Where the majestic presence, all in arms, +Mutely proclaims and vindicates himself. + +FIFE. +My darling Lady-lord-- + +ROS. +My own good Fife, +Keep to my side--and silence!--Oh, my Lord, +For the third time behold me here where first +You saw me, by a happy misadventure +Losing my own way here to find it out +For you to follow with these loyal men, +Adding the moment of my little cause +To yours; which, so much mightier as it is, +By a strange chance runs hand in hand with mine; +The self-same foe who now pretends your right, +Withholding mine--that, of itself alone, +I know the royal blood that runs in you +Would vindicate, regardless of your own: +The right of injured innocence; and, more, +Spite of this epicene attire, a woman's; +And of a noble stock I will not name +Till I, who brought it, have retrieved the shame. +Whom Duke Astolfo, Prince of Muscovy, +With all the solemn vows of wedlock won, +And would have wedded, as I do believe, +Had not the cry of Poland for a Prince +Call'd him from Muscovy to join the prize +Of Poland with the fair Estrella's eyes. +I, following him hither, as you saw, +Was cast upon these rocks; arrested by +Clotaldo: who, for an old debt of love +He owes my family, with all his might +Served, and had served me further, till my cause +Clash'd with his duty to his sovereign, +Which, as became a loyal subject, sir, +(And never sovereign had a loyaller,) +Was still his first. He carried me to Court, +Where, for the second time, I crossed your path; +Where, as I watch'd my opportunity, +Suddenly broke this public passion out; +Which, drowning private into public wrong, +Yet swiftlier sweeps it to revenge along. + +SEG. +Oh God, if this be dreaming, charge it not +To burst the channel of enclosing sleep +And drown the waking reason! Not to dream +Only what dreamt shall once or twice again +Return to buzz about the sleeping brain +Till shaken off for ever-- +But reassailing one so quick, so thick-- +The very figure and the circumstance +Of sense-confess'd reality foregone +In so-call'd dream so palpably repeated, +The copy so like the original, +We know not which is which; and dream so-call'd +Itself inweaving so inextricably +Into the tissue of acknowledged truth; +The very figures that empeople it +Returning to assert themselves no phantoms +In something so much like meridian day, +And in the very place that not my worst +And veriest disenchanter shall deny +For the too well-remember'd theatre +Of my long tragedy--Strike up the drums! +If this be Truth, and all of us awake, +Indeed a famous quarrel is at stake: +If but a Vision I will see it out, +And, drive the Dream, I can but join the rout. + +CAPT. +And in good time, sir, for a palpable +Touchstone of truth and rightful vengeance too, +Here is Clotaldo taken. + +SOLDIERS. +In with him! +In with the traitor! + +(Clotaldo brought in.) + +SEG. +Ay, Clotaldo, indeed-- +Himself--in his old habit--his old self-- +What! back again, Clotaldo, for a while +To swear me this for truth, and afterwards +All for a dreaming lie? + +CLO. +Awake or dreaming, +Down with that sword, and down these traitors theirs, +Drawn in rebellion 'gainst their Sovereign. + +SEG. (about to strike). +Traitor! Traitor yourself!-- +But soft--soft--soft!-- +You told me, not so very long ago, +Awake or dreaming--I forget--my brain +Is not so clear about it--but I know +One test you gave me to discern between, +Which mad and dreaming people cannot master; +Or if the dreamer could, so best secure +A comfortable waking--Was't not so? +(To Rosaura). +Needs not your intercession now, you see, +As in the dream before-- +Clotaldo, rough old nurse and tutor too +That only traitor wert, to me if true-- +Give him his sword; set him on a fresh horse; +Conduct him safely through my rebel force; +And so God speed him to his sovereign's side! +Give me your hand; and whether all awake +Or all a-dreaming, ride, Clotaldo, ride-- +Dream-swift--for fear we dreams should overtake. + +(A Battle may be supposed to take place; after which) + + + +ACT III. + + + +Scene I.--A wooded pass near the field of battle: drums, trumpets, +firing, etc. Cries of 'God save Basilio! Segismund,' etc. + + +(Enter Fife, running.) + +FIFE. +God save them both, and save them all! say I!-- +Oh--what hot work!--Whichever way one turns +The whistling bullet at one's ears--I've drifted +Far from my mad young--master--whom I saw +Tossing upon the very crest of battle, +Beside the Prince--God save her first of all! +With all my heart I say and pray--and so +Commend her to His keeping--bang!--bang!--bang! +And for myself--scarce worth His thinking of-- +I'll see what I can do to save myself +Behind this rock, until the storm blows over. + +(Skirmishes, shouts, firing, etc. After some time enter King Basilio, +Astolfo, and Clotaldo) + +KING. +The day is lost! + +AST. +Do not despair--the rebels-- + +KING. +Alas! the vanquish'd only are the rebels. + +CLOTALDO. +Ev'n if this battle lost us, 'tis but one +Gain'd on their side, if you not lost in it; +Another moment and too late: at once +Take horse, and to the capital, my liege, +Where in some safe and holy sanctuary +Save Poland in your person. + +AST. +Be persuaded: +You know your son: have tasted of his temper; +At his first onset threatening unprovoked +The crime predicted for his last and worst. +How whetted now with such a taste of blood, +And thus far conquest! + +KING. +Ay, and how he fought! +Oh how he fought, Astolfo; ranks of men +Falling as swathes of grass before the mower; +I could but pause to gaze at him, although, +Like the pale horseman of the Apocalypse, +Each moment brought him nearer--Yet I say, +I could but pause and gaze on him, and pray +Poland had such a warrior for her king. + +AST. +The cry of triumph on the other side +Gains ground upon us here--there's but a moment +For you, my liege, to do, for me to speak, +Who back must to the field, and what man may +Do, to retrieve the fortune of the day. +(Firing.) + +FIFE (falling forward, shot). +Oh, Lord, have mercy on me. + +KING. +What a shriek-- +Oh, some poor creature wounded in a cause +Perhaps not worth the loss of one poor life!-- +So young too--and no soldier-- + +FIFE. +A poor lad, +Who choosing play at hide and seek with death, +Just hid where death just came to look for him; +For there's no place, I think, can keep him out, +Once he's his eye upon you. All grows dark-- +You glitter finely too--Well--we are dreaming +But when the bullet's off--Heaven save the mark! +So tell my mister--mastress-- +(Dies.) + +KING. +Oh God! How this poor creature's ignorance +Confounds our so-call'd wisdom! Even now +When death has stopt his lips, the wound through which +His soul went out, still with its bloody tongue +Preaching how vain our struggle against fate! + +(Voices within). +After them! After them! This way! This way! +The day is ours--Down with Basilio, etc. + +AST. +Fly, sir-- + +KING. +And slave-like flying not out-ride +The fate which better like a King abide! + +(Enter Segismund, Rosaura, Soldiers, etc.) + +SEG. +Where is the King? + +KING (prostrating himself). +Behold him,--by this late +Anticipation of resistless fate, +Thus underneath your feet his golden crown, +And the white head that wears it, laying down, +His fond resistance hope to expiate. + +SEG. +Princes and warriors of Poland--you +That stare on this unnatural sight aghast, +Listen to one who, Heaven-inspired to do +What in its secret wisdom Heaven forecast, +By that same Heaven instructed prophet-wise +To justify the present in the past. +What in the sapphire volume of the skies +Is writ by God's own finger misleads none, +But him whose vain and misinstructed eyes, +They mock with misinterpretation, +Or who, mistaking what he rightly read, +Ill commentary makes, or misapplies +Thinking to shirk or thwart it. Which has done +The wisdom of this venerable head; +Who, well provided with the secret key +To that gold alphabet, himself made me, +Himself, I say, the savage he fore-read +Fate somehow should be charged with; nipp'd the growth +Of better nature in constraint and sloth, +That only bring to bear the seed of wrong +And turn'd the stream to fury whose out-burst +Had kept his lawful channel uncoerced, +And fertilized the land he flow'd along. +Then like to some unskilful duellist, +Who having over-reached himself pushing too hard +His foe, or but a moment off his guard-- +What odds, when Fate is one's antagonist!-- +Nay, more, this royal father, self-dismay'd +At having Fate against himself array'd, +Upon himself the very sword he knew +Should wound him, down upon his bosom drew, +That might well handled, well have wrought; or, kept +Undrawn, have harmless in the scabbard slept. +But Fate shall not by human force be broke, +Nor foil'd by human feint; the Secret learn'd +Against the scholar by that master turn'd +Who to himself reserves the master-stroke. +Witness whereof this venerable Age, +Thrice crown'd as Sire, and Sovereign, and Sage, +Down to the very dust dishonour'd by +The very means he tempted to defy +The irresistible. And shall not I, +Till now the mere dumb instrument that wrought +The battle Fate has with my father fought, +Now the mere mouth-piece of its victory +Oh, shall not I, the champions' sword laid down, +Be yet more shamed to wear the teacher's gown, +And, blushing at the part I had to play, +Down where that honour'd head I was to lay +By this more just submission of my own, +The treason Fate has forced on me atone? + +KING. +Oh, Segismund, in whom I see indeed, +Out of the ashes of my self-extinction +A better self revive; if not beneath +Your feet, beneath your better wisdom bow'd, +The Sovereignty of Poland I resign, +With this its golden symbol; which if thus +Saved with its silver head inviolate, +Shall nevermore be subject to decline; +But when the head that it alights on now +Falls honour'd by the very foe that must, +As all things mortal, lay it in the dust, +Shall star-like shift to his successor's brow. + +(Shouts, trumpets, etc. God save King Segismund!) + +SEG. +For what remains-- +As for my own, so for my people's peace, +Astolfo's and Estrella's plighted hands +I disunite, and taking hers to mine, +His to one yet more dearly his resign. + +(Shouts, etc. God save Estrella, Queen of Poland!) + +SEG (to Clotaldo). +You +That with unflinching duty to your King, +Till countermanded by the mightier Power, +Have held your Prince a captive in the tower, +Henceforth as strictly guard him on the throne +No less my people's keeper than my own. +You stare upon me all, amazed to hear +The word of civil justice from such lips +As never yet seem'd tuned to such discourse. +But listen--In that same enchanted tower, +Not long ago I learn'd it from a dream +Expounded by this ancient prophet here; +And which he told me, should it come again, +How I should bear myself beneath it; not +As then with angry passion all on fire, +Arguing and making a distemper'd soul; +But ev'n with justice, mercy, self-control, +As if the dream I walk'd in were no dream, +And conscience one day to account for it. +A dream it was in which I thought myself, +And you that hail'd me now then hail'd me King, +In a brave palace that was all my own, +Within, and all without it, mine; until, +Drunk with excess of majesty and pride, +Methought I tower'd so high and swell'd so wide, +That of myself I burst the glittering bubble, +That my ambition had about me blown, +And all again was darkness. Such a dream +As this in which I may be walking now; +Dispensing solemn justice to you shadows, +Who make believe to listen; but anon, +With all your glittering arms and equipage, +King, princes, captains, warriors, plume and steel, +Ay, ev'n with all your airy theatre, +May flit into the air you seem to rend +With acclamation, leaving me to wake +In the dark tower; or dreaming that I wake +From this that waking is; or this and that +Both waking or both dreaming; such a doubt +Confounds and clouds our mortal life about. +And, whether wake or dreaming, this I know, +How dream-wise human glories come and go; +Whose momentary tenure not to break, +Walking as one who knows he soon may wake, +So fairly carry the full cup, so well +Disorder'd insolence and passion quell, +That there be nothing after to upbraid +Dreamer or doer in the part he play'd, +Whether To-morrow's dawn shall break the spell, +Or the Last Trumpet of the eternal Day, +When Dreaming with the Night shall pass away. +(Exeunt.) + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Life Is A Dream, by Pedro Calderon de la Barca + diff --git a/old/lfdrm10.zip b/old/lfdrm10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..625d81b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/lfdrm10.zip |
