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Project Gutenberg's The Mortal Gods and Other Plays, by Olive Tilford Dargan

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Title: The Mortal Gods and Other Plays

Author: Olive Tilford Dargan

Release Date: May 16, 2012 [EBook #39708]

Language: English

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 BOOKS BY OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN

 PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

 THE MORTAL GODS and Other Plays.    12mo, _net._ $1.50
 LORDS AND LOVERS and Other Dramas.  12mo, _net._  1.50
 SEMIRAMIS and Other Plays.          12mo, _net._  1.00




    THE MORTAL GODS
    AND OTHER PLAYS




    THE MORTAL GODS
    AND
    OTHER PLAYS

    BY
    OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN


    NEW YORK
    CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SON'S
    1912




 _Copyright, 1912, by Charles Scribner's Sons_
 _All rights reserved_

 _Published November, 1912_




CONTENTS


 THE MORTAL GODS                 1
 A SON OF HERMES               107
 KIDMIR                        221


       *       *       *       *       *




THE MORTAL GODS

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS




_CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY_


 HUDIBRAND, _King of Assaria_
 HERNDA, _his daughter_
 CHARTRIEN, _a Prince of Assaria_
 BORDUC, _Prime Minister_
 COUNT DORKINSKI, _Court Chamberlain_

 CORDIAZ, _King of Goldusan_
 MEGARIO, _Governor of Peonia, a province of Goldusan_
 REJAN LEVAL, _a revolutionist_
 SEÑORA ZIRALAY, _his sister_
 ZIRALAY    }
 RUBIREZ    }
 GOLIFET    } _nobles of Goldusan_
 MAZARAN    }
 GUILDAMOUR }

 MASIO     }
 GARZA     }
 GONZALO   }
 YSOBEL    } _of Megario's hacienda_
 GRIJA     }
 COQURIEZ  }
 IPARRO    }

 _Guests, officers, musicians, peons, &c._

 Time: _Begins February, 1911_
 Place: _Assaria; Goldusan_




ACT I


SCENE: _A vast room in the palace of Hudibrand. As the curtain rises the
place is in darkness save for a circlet of gold apparently suspended in
mid-air near the centre of the room. As the light increases, the outline
of a man's figure becomes distinguishable, and the circlet is seen to be
resting on his head. Gradually the rim of gold fades to invisibility,
while the figure of the man and the contents of the room become clear to
the eye. The man might be mistaken for an American citizen in customary
evening dress. He is Hudibrand._

_At the left are two entrances, upper and lower. Rear, left, large
windows. The wall rear makes a right angle about centre, the apex of
which is cut off by a window. Right of centre the room seems to extend
endlessly rearward, and is arranged to suggest an upland grove in the
delicate, venturing days of spring. The ground, rising a little toward
right, is covered with winter moss and tufts of short silvered grass.
The trees are young birch, slight maples in coral leaf, cornel in
flower, and an occasional dark foil of cedar. A brooklet ripples down
the slope and off rear. Birds chirp and flit, and now and then a breeze
stirs the grove as if it were one tender body. The lights are arranged
to give the effect of night or day as one wishes._

_It is winter without, the climate of Assaria's capital city being
similar to that of New York._

_Double doors lower right, through which Count Dorkinski enters to
Hudibrand._


 _Dor._ Your majesty, Sir Borduc has arrived.

 _Hudi._ Hot-shod. We'll let him cool.

 _Dor._                               Where shall he wait,
 My lord?

 _Hud._ His usual corner. Keep him off
 My Delhi rug.
                  [_Exit Dorkinski_]
   Poor Bordy's fuming ripe.

      [_Re-enter the Count_]

 _Dor._ His Excellency calls, your majesty.

 _Hud._ Which Excellency? They are thick as hops.

 _Dor._ The Governor of Peonia.

 _Hud._                        In time and tune.
 We'll see him here.
                  [_Exit Dorkinski_]
                    A pawn of mine who'd push
 Beyond his square, and I must humor him
 'Neath meditative thumb.

      [_Enter Megario_]

 _Hud._ Welcome, Megario.

 _Meg._                  I've travelled far
 To press your hand.

 _Hud._             We made appointment here,
 Knowing your visit to Assaria touched
 Nothing of state or office.

 _Meg._ [_Accepting his cue_] Nothing, sir. [_Looks about him_]
 I thought I left the springtide in my rear,
 Three thousand miles or so, but here it greets me.

 _Hud._ A gimcrack of my daughter's. She would freak
 With sun and time. My toyshop has no walls.
 I juggle too with seasons, climates, zones,
 But in the open where there's warrior room,
 And startled Fate may spring against my will,
 Giving an edge to mastery when I wrest
 The whip from Nature, turn it on herself,
 And set her elemental slaves to filch
 Her gold for me. That, friend, is play.

 _Meg._                                 For gods
 And not as thief, but as divinity,
 You take from crouching Nature.

 _Hud._                         Men have said
 I pile up gold because its glitter soothes
 A fever in my eyes. The clacking fools!
 I am no Cheops making warts on earth.
 No mummy brain! God built my pyramids,
 Slaving through dark and chaos till there rose
 My iron-hearted hills, and mountains locked
 On ago-unyielded treasure waiting me.
 There slept my gems till longing became fire
 And broke the grip of stone,--there lay my gold,
 Re-purged each thousand years till baited Time
 Gave up the master's hour.

      [_Hernda has come from the grove and moves up to his side_]

 _Her._ [_Adoringly_] And you the master!

 _Hud._ Daughter, you owe my lord Megario
 Some pretty thanks.

 _Her._             I give them, sir.

 _Meg._                               No, no!
 I pray your Highness, no! My thanks to earth
 That bears the flower of you, and to the light
 That makes my eyes your beauty's treasurer.
 But thanks from you to me, as jewels hung
 Upon a beggar's neck, would set my rags
 Unkindly in the sun.

 _Her._              Then I am not
 Your debtor?

 _Meg._      Mine the debt, that mounts too fast
 For feeble payment from thin purse of words.
 Ah, every moment adds a suitor hope
 To th' bankrupts in my heart.

 _Her._                       I fear, my lord,
 Your coiner's name is Fancy, and I like
 Truth's mintage best. [_To her father_]
                      What is this debt of mine,
 So languished that a word of thanks may be
 Its slender cover?

 _Meg._            A word, if beauty speak it,
 May mantle a bare world.

 _Hud._                  His Excellency
 Is Governor of Peonia----

 _Her._                   In Goldusan!

 _Hud._ And smoothed my road there----

 _Meg._                               Nay, your majesty,
 My aid was but a garnish on the might
 That moves with your own name.

 _Hud._                        Between us then,
 We saved my holdings through a bluster there.
 And what they brought me I've tossed here to make
 This smile on winter.

 _Meg._               What? You gave her all?

 _Her._ How, sir? One word of mine would robe a world.
 And my whole self not worth a little spot
 Twitched from Spring's garment?

 _Meg._                         Oh, I'd grind the stars
 To imperial dust that you might trample them,--
 But this--this was a _fortune_!
              [_To Hudibrand_] Sir, 'tis true
 You care not for the gold.

 _Hud._                     I care for it
 As men of hero times held dear the sword
 That made them lords of battle.

 _Her._                         You are lord
 Of Peace!

 _Meg._ Write that upon the clouds, that eyes
 Of men and angels may contending claim
 The truth for earth and heaven!

 _Hud._                         Tush, sir, tush!

 _Meg._ Can I forget how at your kingly touch
 My fair Peonia, paling in treason's grip,
 Thrilled from her deathward droop, renewed her heart
 Through safe, ease-lidded nights, and woke once more
 The rose of fortune?

 _Hud._              There's no rumble now
 Of riot?

 _Meg._ Not a sound comes to our ears
 But from the toiling strokes that steadily
 Uproll Peonia's wealth.

 _Hud._                 Yet those who led
 The last revolt are free.

 _Meg._                   Not all, your Highness.
 A few crossed to Assaria, but expedition
 Warms on their trail. Rejan LeVal is tracked
 To your own capital.

 _Hud._              Nay, mend that, sir.
 We're safe here from such ruck.

 _Meg._                         The startled eel
 Will make for muddy waters,--and 'tis sure
 LeVal found murky welcome here.

 _Hud._                         My city!
 What mutinous bolt turns here for him?

 _Meg._                                His friends
 Are friends of power. How else could he elude
 The thousand eyes in search?

 _Hud._ [_Musing_]           Treason at court?...

 _Meg._ We'll mouse LeVal to 's cranny, do not doubt.
 Then we shall ask Assaria's great seal
 For his delivery to Goldusan.

 _Hud._ That is assured you.

 _Meg._                     But your minister,
 Sir Borduc, warns----

 _Hud._               Ha! Warns?

 _Meg._                          He urges that
 The extraditing power is at pause,
 Blocked by the people's will.

 _Hud._                       I've given my word,--
 A word that mobbish din ne'er added to,
 Nor yet stripped of one letter that I chose
 Should spell authority. You ask for more?

 _Meg._ Pardon, your majesty! It is enough,
 Beyond all stretch of need.

 _Hud._                     I call to mind
 That Borduc waits,--and primed for tongue-work too.
 The princess will content your Excellency?

 _Meg._ [_With obeisance to Hernda_] 'Tis Heaven's honor!
                   I have left the earth!

 _Hud._ You waste your art. She's in the milk-maid humor.
 Would marry Hob. [_Exit, lower right_]

 _Meg._ The Señor Hob? He says
 You'll marry him? [_Hernda laughs_]
                  You care not if I die!

 _Her._ You'll live, my lord.

 _Meg._ You'll marry Hob. I die!

 _Her._ He is not Hob. That is my father's mock
 Because he's poor.

 _Meg._ [_In hope_] Ah, poor?

 _Her._                      A beggarly
 Ten millions,--not a penny more.

 _Meg._                          Ten millions!

 _Her._ But that's my joy. I would not wed for gold.

 _Meg._ O, pity me! I love you, señorita!

 _Her._ No, no! I must not hear that.

 _Meg._                              Then I'll pray
 Silence to be my friend and speak my dumb
 Unuttered heart.

 _Her._           You must not love me, sir.
 But you may love--my father. When you praised him,
 You too seemed fair to me.

 _Meg._                    I'll sing him till
 The stars lie at our feet, if you will listen!

 _Her._ He gave your country peace?

 _Meg._                            His royal name
 Is dear as Cordiaz' in the grateful heart
 Of Goldusan. That proud land lay unkept.
 Her ores intombed, her vales without a plough,
 Her rivers wasting down to shipless seas,
 Her people starving, while her nobles strove
 For shreds of power,--the clouted thing we called
 A government. Then on our factions fell,
 Strong as a god's, the hand of Hudibrand;
 And now, compact, we stand by Cordiaz,
 While every mountain groans with golden birth.
 And every river turns its thousand wheels,
 And every valley buried is in bloom.

 _Her._ My dearest father! But I knew 'twas so!
 And they who starved are fed and happy now?
 They reap the bloom and share the golden flood?

 _Meg._ All will be well when once we've scourged the land
 Of rebels that drip poison from their tongues,
 Stirring the meek and unambitious poor,--
 Who sought no life but saintly, noble toil,--
 With strangest rage, till maddened they would bite
 The fostering hand of God.

 _Her._                    We've prisons where
 We put such troublers. Has your land no jails?

 _Meg._'Tis full of them! I mean--ah, we have jails,
 But foes like these are wary, slip all watch,--
 Flee and dart back, our weariness their charter
 To tread with havoc's hoof. If I could find
 Rejan LeVal, then might I rest from guard,
 But not while he--unlassoed warrigal!--
 May canter from his thicket and paw up
 Peonia's fields!

 _Her._          I'll lend an adjutant.
 Ask Chartrien, who knows each foggy nook
 And smirchèd corner of the capital,--
 Having once made his pastime serve a quest
 For such drab knowledge,--ask him help you find
 This traitor.

 _Meg._       Chartrien! Nay, the fox is safe
 When th' hound too wears a brush.

 _Her._                           You mean the prince?
 Speak, sir! Who hints me calumny,
 Shall make the drum his chorus. I'll hear all.

 _Meg._ A rumor drifts through Goldusan....

 _Her._                                    Is that
 An oddity? Here rumors are too thick
 For ears to gather them.

 _Meg._ But this--O, princess....
 Fairest of earth, forgive me that I speak!

 _Her._ You do not speak. And that I'll not forgive.

 _Meg._ Ah, then,--but first,--is Chartrien near the king?

 _Her._ No nearer than his heart.

 _Meg._                          I do offend.

 _Her._ Offence now lies in silence. Speak, my lord.

 _Meg._ When I left Goldusan, 'twas said--and with
 No muffled hesitance--Prince Chartrien aids
 The rebels there, and lays a train to rend
 The State apart, that Cordiaz may drop
 Into the gap,--then he with plausive cleat
 Will make the fissure stanch, and seat himself
 In unoppugnèd power.

 _Her._              Why _he is Hob_! [_Silence. They both rise_]
 A mad and sorry tale, you see.

 _Meg._                        I see.
 He's in the capital?

 _Her._              Beneath this roof.
 The palace is his home. My father holds
 His meagre millions guarded, nursing them
 To a prince's portion.

 _Meg._           We shall meet?

 _Her._                         To-night.
 He's with a friend--a Spanish gentleman,--
 But _not_ from Goldusan.

 _Meg._                  I made no guess.

 _Her._ Deny that with your eyes. Your tongue's exempt.

 _Meg._ And may I meet the Spanish gentleman?

 _Her._ That's as he chooses. I may not command him.

      [_Re-enter Count Dorkinski_]

 _Dor._ His Highness, sir, is pleased to bid you join him.

 _Meg._ His pleasure is his marshal. [_To Hernda, softly_] I've your leave
 To love your father. That I go from you
 To him, is Heaven's proof I do.

      [_Exit Megario and the Count_]

 _Her._                         The proof
 I seek, and would not find, is locked in Hell,
 Not Heaven. Megario lied. Oh, Chartrien!

  [_Retreats slowly into grove and pauses out of sight, rear. Enter,
      upper left, Chartrien and LeVal_]

 _LeV._ No,----

 _Cha._         Prudence, dear LeVal!

 _LeV._                              I shall go mad
 Shut in this gilded den,--this stifling hold
 Of banditry.

 _Cha._     Peace, friend!

 _LeV._                   I'd rather crouch
 With brats of grime upon an unswept hearth
 And claw my bread from cinders, than draw breath
 In this gold-raftered house of blood!

 _Cha._                               Come, come!
 Your wits fly naked, stripped of every caution,
 And beat suspicion up that else might keep
 Untroubled bed. Whist! We must move rose-shod
 Through these next hours, not clack in passion's clogs.

 _LeV._ I'll out of this! There's surge in me no fear
 Can put in bonds.

 _Cha._           Nay, here and here alone
 Your life is safe. The hounds of Goldusan
 Sniff through the cellars. They'll not scent you in
 The royal shadow. That's more brilliancy
 Than ever lit a rush in houndom. This
 My home, I share with you, for mine it is
 Till I've secured my gold from Hudibrand.

 _LeV._ Ay, but Megario! While he's here these walls
 Pen me in fire.

 _Cha._         His visit is too brief
 To be a danger.

 _LeV._         Danger! To me, or him?
 If we should meet, his fate as mine would be
 In that encounter. These are hands would see to 't!

 _Cha._ LeVal, forget----

 _LeV._                  Forget Céleste? My wife?
 Forget she died of blows while he stood by
 And smiled, because _she was my wife_!
 Oh, God! Breathe air with him while this arm hangs
 A limp discretion!

 _Cha._            Peace! This mood unpent
 Will wreck us. Keep your room if it must swell.
 The princess gazes yonder, and your face
 Is badged exposal. Go. I'll meet her question.
 'Twill not fash honor if a lie or two
 Must be our guard.

  [_Exit LeVal upper left. Hernda emerges from grove. Chartrien waits for
      her as she comes circuitously, lightly hovering and hesitating_]

 _Her._ [_At his side_] What lover's this?--dreams still
 When love is by. Were he an olden knight
 He'd ride to tourney and forget his spurs!

 _Cha._ He would forget the world and fame and God
 To see your eyes like this!

 _Her._                     You tremble, Chartrien.
 Love so much?--yet stood here just--a stump--

 _Cha._ That felt you coming, coming like a bird,
 And watched and waited, envying every bough
 Where you paused doubting, till you fluttering lit,
 Down in the old stump's heart--

 _Her._                         There, I've forgot!
 This is my lover ere that lure crept up
 From Goldusan. Since you came back, I've felt
 The shadow of a difference, and I've heard
 The maids of Goldusan can draw men's souls
 Out of their bodies for a dance in hell.

 _Cha._ My love!

 _Her._          O, Chartrien, are you mine? I feel
 A question in your worship. When your eyes
 Are warmest, love lies on them like
 The shallow moon-gleam on a deep, dark sea
 That is not kin with it. A sea that once
 Was mine, and I could go, with circling arms,
 Love-lanterned to its depth. But now the dark
 Is round me fathomless----

 _Cha._                    My own!

 _Her._                             I try to rise,
 To find my wings--and feel the air again
 Without your drowning touch upon me----

 _Cha._                                 Hernda!
 Have I so nearly lost you? Come, beloved,
 Sit here, and let me vow me yours again
 Till in each word you feel my beating heart.

 _Her._ My stars shall hear these vows.
  [_Changes the light to pale, evening glow. Rear, right, are glimpses
      of sky with frail, moving clouds, faint stars and a new moon_]
                                       And see, my moon.
 Intent and virginal.
  [_She sits, and Chartrien lies on the ground, his breast covering
      her feet_]
                     Now, now my heart
 Holds not another thing but love and you!

 _Cha._ No thought of those dread wings?

 _Her._                                 None, none! And you?
                                            [_Bends over him_]
 All mine. I hold you now, fast in my world.
 Sometimes you enter, come within my door.
 And then I can not shut it for a wind
 That clings about you from a farther sky.

 _Cha._ [_Rises and takes her face between his hands_]
 There's but one sky!

 _Her._               A shuddering breath,
 As from a planet strange, where you have walked
 And I shall never go.

 _Cha._               O, shut me in,
 Rose of a heart! I'll not go out though Life
 Beat at the door, and call her giant storms
 To knock upon 't.

 _Her._ Is this not life? And this
 The only world?

 _Cha._         The only world. My habitat
 One perfect hour.

 _Her._           One hour? Forever, love.

 _Cha._ O, vow it for me, sweet,--again, again!
 Till I believe once more in Arcadies
 Born of a silken purse. In sunsets caught
 In tinted tapestries, with jacinth heart
 Gold-bleeding through the woven breath of dream.
 In soft moon-hours that drop from painted skies,
 In fairy woodlands aye unwintering,
 In love's elf-ring no boding star may cross,
 And you, my Hernda, sceptred in joy's name,
 Tossing the apple planets in your hands--
 These little, sovereign hands--as God might do,
 Had he, poor God, your power.

 _Her._                       Love, you hurt.

 _Cha._ Ah, tears in Arcady?

 _Her._                     Oh, what is this
 Has come between us?

 _Cha._              What? The universe.
 I can not reach you even when my lips
 Are on your heart.

 _Her._            May I not come to you?

 _Cha._ From this moon-world? No hope of that.

 _Her._                                       See then,
 The day! [_Changes the light to sunrise_]
          Now may I come?

 _Cha._                  Forever playing!
 The way lies here.

      [_Steps to window and opens it. A snowy blast rushes in_]

 _Her._            Stop, Chartrien! Shut it! Oh,
 You've killed my Spring!

 _Cha._                   You will not come?

 _Her._                                     You're mad.

  [_Struggles with the window until she closes it, Chartrien watching
      her_]

 _Cha._ You do not like that road. But it is mine.
 And children walk it. I have met them there.

 _Her._ Oh, I am frozen! See!

 _Cha._ [_With sudden contrition, pressing her to his breast_]
                             No, you are fire.
 A fire that I will clasp, though it should burn
 My holiest temple and betray my soul
 To ashes!

 _Her._ O, my love, what secret curbs
 Your nature to this chafe? It rubs even through
 Your ardor.--stabs me on your breast.
 May I not know it? Is not confidence
 Dear blood and life of love? Without it, ours
 Must pale, ghost-cold, a chill between locked arms.

 _Cha._ Is trust not love's prerogative
 More royal sweet than any burdened share
 Of secrecy?

 _Her._      Not to the strong!

 _Cha._ [_Smiling_]            You strong?
 By what brave test dost know it?

 _Her._                          And by what
 Dost know me weak?

 _Cha._            The proof awaits. But now,--
 Emilio needs me,--

 _Her._ Go!

 _Cha._    Sweet, friendship too
 Has bonds. Not all are love's.

 _Her._                        He's ill,--your friend?

 _Cha._ As plague-bit life,--no worse.

 _Her._                               You'll wait upon
 My father? Bid him but good-night?

 _Cha._                            No, Hernda.

 _Her._ You shun him, Chartrien. I have watched you keep
 A curious distance,--ay, as though your heart
 Removed itself while your unwarmèd eyes
 Made invoice of its treasure. Once you rushed
 Unto his counsel as security
 Hived in his word, and you, denied, were lost.
 Are those hours gone? If you have grown too large
 For his shrunk wisdom, bind you to his need.
 Age unsuspected crowns him, and you take
 Your young arm out of his.

 _Cha._                    He wants no staff.

 _Her._ You'll go no more to Goldusan?

 _Cha._                               I must.

 _Her._ And soon?

 _Cha._ When Hudibrand is pleased to free
 My fortune from his ward.

 _Her._                   You want it all?

 _Cha._ Yes, all.

 _Her._          For Goldusan?

 _Cha._                       My greatest need
 Is there.

 _Her._ What is that need?

 _Cha._                   You question me?

 _Her._ May love not ask?

 _Cha._                  If love could understand.

 _Her._ Have I grown dull? I do not know you, Chartrien.
 You're so unfeatured by that Spanish cloud,
 You're lowering friend. _He_ is the universe
 Between our hearts. Ill? No. I saw him here,--
 A tropic threat. 'Twas rage broke his suave guard,
 Not illness.

 _Cha._ Hernda!

 _Her._        The Lord Megario
 Has asked to compliment a brother guest.
 May he be seen? Does his unmannered storm
 Spare one amenity?

 _Cha._            Megario knows?

 _Her._ Knows what?

 _Cha._            Oh!--nothing.

 _Her._                         So much more than naught
 Your cheek is pale with it.

 _Cha._                     No matter, Hernda.

 _Her._ An ashen matter truly, yet not light
 As nothing. But your answer. May our guests
 Exchange the roof-tree greeting?

 _Cha._                          No.

 _Her._                             Why not?
 That "no" trails consequence. It can not be
 Your period.

 _Cha._ They are enemies.

 _Her._                  I knew!

 _Cha._ Megario dealt my friend a bitter wrong,--
 The foulest wrong that man may put on man.

 _Her._ He's loyal to my father. I know that
 Of him,--and of Emilio--nothing.

 _Cha._                          Sweet,
 I beg one day!

 _Her._        One day? What's hatching here
 That's one day short its time?

      [_Enter, lower right, Hudibrand, Megario, and Borduc_]

 _Cha._ [_Drawing Hernda aside_] To-morrow, love!

 _Her._ To-night!

 _Hud._          You've won your suit, Megario.
 If by our presence in your Goldusan
 We can advance that sister country's peace.
 The journey's naught. We'll count it done.

 _Meg._                                    My lord,
 All revolution will dispel as air
 Before your eye. Our Cordiaz is great,
 But his familiar subjects are too near
 To take his height, while you they know to be
 Of giant measure; and when once they see
 Your majesties are brothered, Cordiaz
 Will grow your twin in stature.

 _Hud._                         You've our word.

 _Meg._ I treasure it,--and lest repeated thanks
 Stale their sincerity. I beg to say
 Good-night.

 _Hud._ You have our leave. Good-night, my lord.

  [_Megario bows impressively to Hudibrand, slightly to Borduc, and is
      passing out when Hernda, who has crossed right, intercepts him_]

 _Her._ You leave us early, Lord Megario.

 _Meg._ I do not leave, your Highness. I am driven.
 I go to drudgery with my secretaries,
 Foregoing even the sleep that might have brought
 Your dreamèd face to me.

 _Her._                  Is 't still your wish
 To meet our Spanish guest?

 _Meg._                    He grants me that?

 _Her._ He has refused a meeting.

 _Meg._                          Ah!... Refused.

 _Her._ But there's a way, my lord. When you have passed
 The second door without, turn to the left.
 You'll find a vaulted passage,--at the end
 An entrance to my wood. Come in, and wait.

 _Meg._ You grace me so?

 _Her._                 It is not grace that breaks
 The covenant of salt. But who keeps faith
 With traitors? He is one, by every sign.
 An evil thing blown to our royal hearth
 Through Chartrien's open love that lets all winds
 Pour in. And I'll have proof of it!

 _Meg._ [_Over her hand_]           You shall. [_Exit, lower right_]

 _Cha._ [_Crossing to Hernda_] A long-spun courtesy, and with one merit,--
 It ended in good-night.

 _Her._ [_Gayly_] Unruly yet?
 A truce until to-morrow!

 _Cha._                  You believe me?

 _Her._ I would not doubt you for a world compact
 Of virtues only, but it's no unreason
 To fear you are deceived.

 _Cha._                   Dear Hernda----

 _Her._                                  Come!
 I love you, Chartrien. Let us have an hour
 As light as joy, as sweet as peace, and call
 Your friend to share it. He shall smile for me.
 I vow it, by his most ungentle frown!

 _Cha._ 'Twill take your deepest magic, for his heart
 Holds naught that smiles are made of.

 _Her._                               Bring him here.
 I'll make that heart my wizard bowl and mix
 Such sweet and merry potions in 't, his griefs
 Must doff their gray for motley. You shall see!

 _Cha._ Art such a witch? [_Exit, upper left_]

 _Her._                  What's this I do? My soul
 Leans shameward, but I'll trounce it up. The man,
 If innocent, keeps so, untouched and clear.
 If he aims darkly, creeps a weaponed hate
 Upon my noble father, do I worse
 Than cancel so the unwrought half of 's crime,
 And make him less a villain?

 _Bor._                      May I speak
 Against this southward jaunt?

 _Hud._                       Loud as you please,
 My Bordy, but I go.

 _Bor._             Your Highness makes
 Assaria bow too low.

 _Hud._              The State shall have
 No name in this. I go as Cordiaz' friend,
 Not as Assaria's king. I've interests there
 That sort with quiet venture. Give it out
 This move in part concerns my health.

 _Bor._                               That much
 I welcome. You should rest, my lord.

 _Hud._                              Ha? Rest?
 The twin of death! I'll rest when I am dust.
 Nay, then I hope that storm and hurricane
 Will keep me whirling. No,--I'll not go lame
 Even in report. Say that this move concerns
 My pleasure solely,--solely, Borduc.

 _Her._                              Father,
 I have a suit. May I not go with you?
 I long to make that land where you are loved,
 More vivid than the dream that now it is.

 _Hud._ And find what lodestar there draws Chartrien
 From constancy? Well, you shall go.

 _Bor._                             Tut, tut!

 _Her._ Dear father!

 _Hud._ This will give domestic screen
 And color to our tack.

 _Bor._                A gadding throne--

 _Hud._ Good Borduc, we will leave the throne at home.
 Do not _you_ stay?

 _Bor._ I've some authority,
 You'll not dispute, my lord. Much as may go
 With broad election. My investiture
 Lies in the people's choice.

 _Hud._ Ay, you're their bark
 Of freedom, where their pride may hoist full sail,
 But who wots better, Bordy, that 'tis puffed
 With winds that know my port?

 _Bor._ They think their choice
 Is free. Sincere in that, they give my post
 A dignity not even your majesty
 May mock me out of.

 _Hud._             Fools are noted most
 For their sincerity,--a virtue that
 Must stand a cipher if uncertified
 By wit or wisdom.

 _Bor._           Sir, Assarians
 Are not the fools you think them. They are men
 Who have the patriot's heart, and on their flag
 Where you write "power" their love reads "liberty."

 _Hud._ It does, praise be! And they may keep their flag
 To wear around their eyes long as they will.
 For then I dance my measure, while they bump
 In hither-whither hoodman blind and pay
 My fiddler too!

 _Bor._    And what's my part in this?

 _Hud._ The fiddler's, Borduc.

 _Bor._                       Sir?

 _Hud._                           And your next tune
 Is Goldusan. Come, let's rehearse.

 _Bor._                            My lord,----

      [_Exeunt, lower right, as Chartrien and LeVal enter left_]

 _Her._ You've come, dear Señor! Was it savagery
 To wrest the hour from you?

 _LeV._                     Too kindly done
 For such a name,--though I was deep in bond
 To sober thoughts, your Highness.

 _Her._                           Be so still.
 We would not force our humor on your heart,
 But share your own.

 _LeV._ [_Smiling_] Can you be sad?

 _Her._                            As rains
 That drench October. As the gray
 That fringes twilight on the dark of moons.
 As seas that sob above a swallowed ship,
 Repenting storm. [_Leads to seat, right_]
                 Come, sir,--and I'll be sad
 In what degree you choose, though I could wish it
 Nearer a smile than rheum, and not so heavy
 But that its sigh may float upon a song,
 A gentle song that might be sorrow's garland
 When moan wears down. Wilt hear one now, my lord?
 I have a music-maker yon whose lute
 Was nectared in a poet's tears the hour
 He lost his dream. Say you will hear him! Nay,
 That courtier "yes" can not o'ertake the "no"
 Sped from your eyes. We'll have no music. Yet
 The soul must love it ere one can be sad
 To th' very sweet of sadness. O, I know!

 _LeV._ I love it, but not here.

 _Her._                         What here forbids?
 My bower! The eye translates its tenderness
 To fairy sound, nor need of pipe or strings.

 _LeV._ I can not hear the bells of fairydom
 When life is making thunder's music 'gainst
 This bauble house of play----

 _Her._ [_Rising_]            Sir, you forget----

 _LeV._ Nay, I remember!

 _Her._                 What do you remember?

 _LeV._ Ah!... Pardon, princess!

 _Cha._                         May I mend this peace?

 _Her._ [_Sitting again by LeVal_] It is not broken yet.

 _LeV._                                                 Your gentleness
 Has saved it, not my manners.

 _Her._                       Oh, my lord,
 Would I had grace to cover sorrow's breach
 As smoothly as a gap in courtesy!
 Then you should smile!

 _LeV._                I have a happiness
 That makes it thievery in me to take
 Your pity. You've a sadder need.

 _Her._                          I'll yield
 No jocund vantage to that brow of yours.
 You hear this sombre braggart, Chartrien?
 Speaks as I were Despair's own fosterling!

 _LeV._ You are. As I am Hope's. Do you not gaze
 On earth's foul spots and cry "A sad world this!"
 "We must endure!" "The dear God wills it so!"
 And such and such like seed of misery
 Till hopelessness sprouts chronic?--building then
 Your house of life amid its smelling weeds,
 Where you may dance--or pray--till you forget
 Your creed keeps earth in tears?

 _Her._                          And yours, my lord?

 _LeV._ Gives her a singing and forefeeling heart
 Whose courage cleaves renunciation's cloud
 That swathes her splendor and would sighing keep
 Her livid 'mong the stars!

 _Her._                    You would divide
 Omnipotence with God, and arrogant,
 Assume the bigger half. But there are woes
 That even your hope, though it go winged and armored,
 Must fall before.

 _LeV._           Not one that I'll not face
 Until its features mould me destiny.
 The shape of radiance it shall wear for man
 'Neath an unslandered Heaven! I could not live
 If in the life about me I saw not
 The world within this world, and sped my hope
 The way that it shall take.

 _Her._                     Is not that way
 Called Peace, Emilio?

 _LeV._               Not the peace that spills
 More blood than war, builds bigger jails, and leaves
 More waifs to suck the stunting, poisonous breast
 Of Charity! Peace as white ashes spread
 Upon injustice' fly-blown wrack----

 _Her._ [_Leaving him_]             You are
 A revolutionist!

 _LeV._          And black to you,
 For revolution leads into the horizon,
 And must be figured dark to rearward eyes
 Though God beyond gives welcome.

 _Her._ [_Coming gently back_]   May we not
 Be patient even as Christ, who found this world
 The home of poverty and left it so?
 Did he not say the poor are ever with us?

 _LeV._ You too must tap that last and golden nail
 In th' pauper's coffin!

 _Her._                 It is the nail of truth,
 If Christ spoke true.

 _LeV._               Words uttered to his day,
 Not to all time. Not as a deathless brand
 Burning his own millennium. Not meant
 To take from man his goal, condemning him
 To hug an ulcer to the sick world's end,
 Which even your bosom must take to whitest bed
 Although your festrous partner be not guessed
 Nor visible. But if he did mean that----
 That vicious thing--then he is false as hell,
 Denying man's bright destiny,--and I,
 Who vouch the triumph of an angel race,
 Am more a god than he!

 _Her._                You dare blaspheme----

 _LeV._ Because it once was said to men, whom worms
 Made dust of twice ten hundred years ago,
 "The poor are always with you," such as you
 Shall not forever pick your way to ease
 O'er broken bodies, lifting up white brows
 And hiding crimson feet! Daring to make
 The Christ your sheltering sanction while you feed
 On others' lives, and keep injustice sleek
 Even as you cosset that dim thing, your soul,
 And preen the wings you think bear you aloft
 The puddled world!

 _Her._            You lie! You do not know
 Our gentle hearts, our----

 _LeV._                    Gentle? O, you're nice,
 You later cannibals, and will not eat
 Of babes at table, but you'll pipe their blood
 From unoffending distance, while you pray
 Your conscience numb and swear the source is clean.
 Some dare to name that fount the Love of God,
 And kneel him thanks!

 _Her._               Oh, mad and impious!
 Who is this, Chartrien, you've dared call your friend?

      [_Megario steps from the grove_]

 _Meg._ He's dumb as prudence, but my tongue is free.
 This is Rejan LeVal, the man who hates
 Your father,--and my country's enemy.

 _LeV._ [_Plunging toward Megario_] Murderer!

 _Cha._ [_Grasping LeVal_] Come! At once!

 _Meg._                                  Your pardon, prince.
 I must delay you. I feared your sympathy
 Would gird itself 'gainst justice, and took care
 To balk escape. [_To officer who appears behind him_]
                Be off with him. You know
 Your road. No stop this side Peonia's border.

 _Cha._ Outlawry this! Stop, sir! You will not dare
 Kidnap him on this soil!

 _Meg._ [_Laughs_] Where Hudibrand
 Is king?

      [_Exit officer with LeVal, lower right_]

 _Her._ This strains your privilege, my lord.

 _Cha._ His privilege? My God! Did you....

 _Her._                                   I did.

 _Meg._ No third voice here is cordant. I will leave you.
 My thousand times most gracious lady, thanks!
 Again I bid you happiest good-night! [_Exit_]

 _Her._ I am no adder, though your bitter eyes
 Give me that name.

 _Cha._            Not bitter. In my heart,
 That wrapped you as the South its dearest bud,
 There's nothing left to warm the thought of you
 Even with my hate. You are the crown, the peak,
 The unmeaning top of all to which I'm most
 Indifferent. [_Turns away_]

 _Her._ Look at me!

 _Cha._            I look, and know
 My eyes till now were cankered, look and see
 The whole fair lie you are.

 _Her._                     Nay, Chartrien!

 _Cha._ The book is open. There the brow yet shines
 As God o'erlilied it,--an altar urn
 Stuffed with profane decay. Those are the eyes
 Like springs within a wood where no road leads
 With murking pilgrim dust, yet Innocence
 There paused looks up no more. That is the hand
 That as a comrade angel's took my friend's,--
 Reached out as though it parted Heaven's veil
 To draw his grief within, then clapped him down
 To Hell.

 _Her._ The place for traitors. Let him go.
 This moment is for us. 'Tis true your eyes
 Were cankered, and I thought by surgeon means
 To give them health, but deeper than the eyes
 This trouble's seat. Deep as your changèd soul,
 That forfeits its divinity to link
 With an infection. Here you stood and heard
 Those poured-out profanations with no move
 Or sound of protest. That was left for me.

 _Cha._ What truth may pierce such ignorance, fatuous, thick!
 That man,--Megario,--with whom you've struck
 Alliant palm, twisted a lawless law
 To his deformed desire, and took the lands--
 The priceless valley lands of Cana Ru--
 From gentle dwellers there, whose titles bore
 The rooted claim of dear ancestral graves
 Nine generations deep,--and when they stood
 The guardians of their doors, faced them with guns,
 Dragged them to his bribed courts, weighed them with fines,
 And sent them to his burning maguey fields
 To slave and rot.

 _Her._           No--don't----

 _Cha._                        The lands were sold
 To Hudibrand----

 _Her._          It can not be!

 _Cha._                        Not be?
 That cry is stale as ignorance, as old
 As wrong. I've heard it till my ears refuse
 To register its emptiness. LeVal,
 It was, rose first against Megario,--
 Stood up and urged men to be Man,--and this,
 That makes archangels in the ranks of Heaven,
 Was treason upon earth. He lived--escaped--
 But not his wife. Anointed woman, such
 As centuries with conjoined virtues breed
 Once and no more! She was condemned, enslaved,
 And toiling in the steaming fields, fell down,
 Was flogged, and died.

 _Her._ No! no! no! no!

 _Cha._                So she
 Is free. But now LeVal goes back. My friend!
 O, giant heart! I see you stagger, drop,
 As feverous as the smitten earth----

 _Her._                              Who could
 Believe such things? You're wrong! You must--you shall
 Be wrong! He was a traitor, bitter-souled.
 Undoing my father's work!

 _Cha._                   Farewell!

 _Her._                            Oh, Chartrien,
 I did it for the best!

 _Cha._                The woman's cry.
 She'd wreck a world, and from that earthquake piled
 Look up to say she did it for the best.

 _Her._ You will not go? You loved me one hour past.
 I am not changed. I'm Hernda still.

 _Cha._                             The same.
 And yet I loved you. But no blush need burn
 The soul escaped enchantment. 'Twas a charm
 Enringed me with its bale till helpless there,
 And feeble as a babe in bassinet,
 I cooed away my manhood,--emptied time
 With infant fingering toward your protean hair!

 _Her._ You _loved_ me!

 _Cha._                More than ever could be laid
 To madness' charge, or god that passion whelms
 With mortal longing till his skies become
 His prison, and dark earth Elysian ground
 Beneath the feet he loves!

 _Her._ [_With arms beseeching_] Here, Chartrien, here!

 _Cha._ Even when my eyes--so late--were wide to wrong
 That binds the race to pain's dread Caucasus,
 My mad imagination laid the gift
 Of seership on you, dreamed that you would go
 To meet the gleam of the delivering days,----

 _Her._ With you!

 _Cha._          Sail any sea of venture, beat
 Through any storm to make the prophet's port,--
 White priestess vassal to the truth that leads
 The planet into light!

 _Her._                Together, Chartrien!

 _Cha._ That was my dream. Then coming to your side.
 There was no life but yours,--no world that bled
 And felt the vulture feeding. Groans of men
 Grew still, or like the unavailing hum
 Of far-off, aimless bees, scarce reached my ears
 That heard, more near, as music from new earth,
 Your children call me father. Ay, 'twas but
 The storming undersea of passioning sex
 That breaking to the sky o'erlaid my stars
 And wore the mask of Heaven! That ebbless power,
 That spawning tide of Nature, by whose might
 She took primordial forts and made Life hers!
 Still does it tear belated, unassuaged,
 In wreck about the Mind's aspiring fanes.
 And shakes the nesting Spirit from her towers,
 Her heavenly brood unfledged!

 _Her._                       Oh! Oh!

 _Cha._                              Here--now--
 I beat it back, and go my way unmated
 Till beauty fair as yours has bred a soul
 And signals me! [_Exit_]

 _Her._         Stay, Chartrien! Oh, my love!

                  [_Falls. Curtain_]




ACT II


SCENE: _A grove in the outskirts of a town in Goldusan. Semi-tropical
verdure. Rocks, shrubbery, trees, at convenience. A hidden cascade
mumbles upper right, not loud enough to disturb conversation. At upper
left, the pillared and vine-wreathed entrance to a mansion. A wall,
rear, partly hidden by foliage. Paths lead off, right and left, lower,
under trees. It is evening, and the grove is lit for revel. Gay flocks
of people pass, then Hernda and Megario enter lower right._


 _Meg._ Unsoft as winter! Thou hast brought thy north,
 With thee, a frigid shade, here where the hours
 Are poppy-fingered, and their dreaming breasts
 Unshuttered as the summer!

 _Her._                    Is it true,
 This joy, that smiles as though its fountained heart
 Could not be emptied?

 _Meg._               True as that I love you.

 _Her._ But if it is no mask, why should revolt
 O'ercloud your borders?

 _Meg._                 There's no just revolt.

 _Her._ But Chartrien said----

 _Meg._                       Are you yet poison-tinct
 With that old rebel tale his credulous heart
 Dressed new in his while honor till both grew
 One sooty treason?

 _Her._            Where is Chartrien now?

 _Meg._ Wherever he may hatch a discontent
 And cluck us trouble. But of late he spurs
 His heart of venture, and dartles to our towns
 To stir the scum there.

 _Her._                 Scum? You've such a thing
 In Cordiaz' happy land? I'll see that scum.
 It breathes, does 't not? Has eyes, and tongue?
 Can answer if one speaks?

 _Meg._                   You're merry, princess.

 _Her._ As graves at night. All is not open here.
 I shall go farther,--knock at doors where Truth
 Keeps honest house, not gowned for holiday.

 _Meg._ One want we have,--that you will stay with us
 And be the fairy soul of Goldusan.
 Then must our land, so measureless endeared,
 Be cherished as the darling care of Heaven,
 Where storm may breathe but as a twittering bird
 That fears to shake its nest.

 _Her._                       You've only words!
 Words like these thousand-thousand smiles that seem
 Half real and half painted,--teasing, strange,--
 All feeding one illusion round my way
 Till even the ground unqualifies beneath me
 And makes each step a question.

 _Meg._                         'Tis the doubt
 You look through that transforms our face
 Of truth and paints us vaguely hued.
 O, for our many smiles, wilt not give one?

 _Her._ Nay, there's a darkness fringing on this grove.
 It creeps above the walls, it touches me,
 And makes me shudder winding at my feet!

 _Meg._ You've sipped of fancy at a witch's knee! [_Plucks a flower_]
 But see,--your serpent shadows nurture this.
 Confess to its perfection, and be shriven
 Of any thought less fair.

 _Her._                   Oh, if I might!
 No, keep it. Let us find our friends.

 _Meg._ [_Drops the flower_]          My hand
 Defiles it for you.

 _Her._             Nay----

 _Meg._                    Where is the fan
 I carried yester-night?

 _Her._                 'Tis--lost.

 _Meg._                            'Tis burnt!

 _Her._ What wind's your gossip?

 _Meg._                         Truth paused at my ear.
 But, princess, if there's any charm will draw
 Your eyes to me unburdened of their hate,
 I'll find it though it lie beneath the ruin
 Of every other hope!

 _Her._              I'll leave you, sir.

 _Meg._ Forgive me! Love will speak,--ay, storm its need.
 Though each vain word pile up the barricade
 That fends the heart desired.

 _Her._                       My lord, no hate
 Is in that barrier. I'm free of that.

 _Meg._ Thanks for that little much. Your highness speaks
 Of journeying. What can I say to gild
 My own Peonia till it distant gleams
 The gem of pilgrimage? There you will see
 How earth is dressed when the devoted sun
 Is pledged to her adorning. Trees that mass
 Their bloom in forest heavens, giving her
 A nearer sky. Unthwarted vines that scarf
 Her mountain shoulders with their pendent clouds.
 Lakes where a dreamer's bark may drift unoared
 And chance no port save beauty. Everywhere
 The dart and wave of color that would beckon
 A neighbor planet looking once this way.
 Come, be my guest. One day! I'll ask no more.

 _Her._ I do not know. Señora Ziralay
 Will be my guide. I go with her.

 _Meg._                          With her?

 _Her._ What is 't? I touch the shadow. You are not
 Her friend?

 _Meg._ She hates in secret, while her smile
 Levies the world for love.

 _Her._                    I'll hate where she does,
 And know my soul is safe.

 _Meg._                   Her husband holds
 By love and purse to Cordiaz, but she
 Is a LeVal.

 _Her._ LeVal? And kin to--_him_?

 _Meg._ Rejan? His sister. And I know her nature
 Is tinted as her blood, whatever hue
 It wears at court.

 _Her._            A sister to the man
 That I gave up to death. And I have dared
 To love her--take her kiss----

 _Meg._ [_Cautioning_]         She's here.

      [_Enter, lower right, Señora Ziralay and Guildamour_]

 _Her._                                   Señora!
 We spoke of you.

 _Señ._ And with such gloom?

 _Meg._                     No, no!

 _Señ._ It lingers yet, my lord. Do I in absence cast
 Such knitted shadows?

 _Meg._               Safely asked of us,
 Who know your bright philosophy. How fares
 That magic broom with which you'd sweep the earth
 Of every ill? Is 't still invincible?

 _Señ._ Much worn of late, my lord, as you should know,
 Who give it work.

 _Meg._           You'd leave us not one grief
 To keep us praying and rebuilding Heaven?
 Abolish Death perhaps?

 _Señ._                True mock! I would
 Except the death that's like a waiting bed
 When not another turn may mend the day;
 When sleep is sweeter than the thumbèd book,
 And hearth-near voices drowse like waves that lap
 Shores unconcerned. Now we are murdered, all.

 _Meg._ No, no. Señora!

 _Gui._                Ay! Do we not vaunt,
 And set it rarely down, a thing to note,
 If age unmoor the life-disusèd raft,
 For th' chartless cruise?

 _Señ._                   Now we go hurried out,
 With half our dreams unpacked, and earth made poor
 With a few grains of dust where should have risen
 Our wisest years in flower.

 _Meg._                     Fate, fate, Señora!

 _Señ._ What's fate but ignorance? And not always that
 Comes hobbling with excuse. Sometimes a man,
 Whose eyes fling lances at the foes of Life,
 Is knouted from the world----

 _Meg._                       No more, I pray!
 This is a festal night. Reserve your sermon
 For our next fast.

  [_A musical group plays softly under trees left. Enter lower right,
      Hudibrand, Cordiaz, Rubirez, Vardas, Ziralay and others_]

 _Hud._            Here, daughter? You've been sought.

 _Cor._ The search was mine, your highness. I would beg
 A grace of you.

 _Her._ You grant one as you beg,
 Your majesty. I'll not do less than give
 Your own again. But pray you name it, sir.

 _Cor._ This garden where our amity has borne
 Its fairest blossom shall be called henceforth
 The Grove of Peace, and we would beg your highness
 To queen our christening.

 _Her._                   A queenly part,
 And royally I thank you, but I'll play it
 With humblest prayer that Heaven may keep unbroken
 These new-sworn bonds between my land and yours.

 _Cor._ So pray we all.

 _Her._                Is this our scene?

 _Cor._                                  Not here.
 Come you this way, my friends. We'll cast the wine
 To yon cascade, and let the waters bear it
 Down to my capital.

  [_All go off upper right, except two officers, who remain centre, and
      a guard who walks to and fro by wall rear, sometimes visible,
      sometimes hidden by the wood and rocks_]

 _First Off._ This peace will prove
 As stout as any spider's thread that swings
 In a blowing rain. Fah!

 _Second Off._          Climb what hill you please,
 You see the rebels' smoke.

 _First Off._              But where in name
 Of magic does Bolderez get his gold?
 The rebels we pick up have lost no meals.

 _Second Off._ Enough he gets it. Goldusan sleeps well.
 Bolderez is so near that if his men
 Were eagles they could pick out Cordiaz' eyes
 And he'd not wake to miss 'em.

 _First Off._                  Cordiaz
 Is not asleep, but so bedimmed and fooled
 By a thievish Cabinet that what he sees
 Takes any name they give it.

 _Second Off._               He is old.

 _First Off._ Ah, there you hit it. Warriors should die young.
 When age unsoldiers them their field-worn hearts
 Have no defence against a crafty peace,
 And falling power will seize on any prop
 Be 't foul or fair, to keep on legs.

 _Second Off._                       My faith!
 His crutches are so villanous, a fall
 Were better than his gait.

      [_Enter Ziralay, lower right_]

 _First Off._ Well, Ziralay,
 What news?

 _Zir._    Where's Cordiaz?

 _Second Off._             He comes.

      [_Re-enter group from the cascade_]

 _Zir._ [_To Cordiaz_]              My lord,
 The Assarian prince is captured, and is held
 Within the town.

 _Cor._ What? Chartrien?

 _Zir._                 Yes, my lord.

 _Cor._ Fit period to this dedicated day!
 Our gentle bonds are now forged whole. The man
 Who was Bolderez' hope, most luminous
 Of all who drew rebellion to him, now
 Is darkly fallen.

 _Rub._           This golden aid cut off,
 Bolderez stands so bare his nakedness
 Will sprint to nearest cover.

 _Cor._                       I'll see his face.
 Bring here the prisoner.

 _Off._                  I'll speed the order,
 Your majesty. [_Exit_]

 _Rub._ Shall he be shot, my lord?

 _Cor._ Shot? No. But kept close prisoned.

 _Rub._                                   That is mercy
 You have denied the blood of Goldusan.
 Why grant it to Assaria?

 _Var._                  In him swells
 A strength was never in LeVal. I urge
 His instant death.

 _Cor._            No, friends. He is a son
 Of our great neighbor, and his death would wound
 The courtesy of nations that is kept
 By lenience unabraded.

 _Var._                Breath so bold
 Will from a prison fan the treachery
 Whose flame would die without it.

 _Her._                           Father, speak!

 _Cor._ We'll hear our friend, Assaria's majesty,
 If he have word for us.

 _Hud._                 I pray your highness
 To let no ghostly and unfounded fear
 Of my Assaria----

 _Cor._           Fear, my lord?

 _Hud._                         I mean
 No more than ask you to be just, nor let
 My presence here enforce your chivalry
 To do your country wrong. Think of your people,
 Not the approval of a gazing land
 Whose distant nod is given in ignorance
 Of your stern cause.

 _Her._              Here's not my father! So
 The clock runs backward, and time ends.

 _Meg._ [_To Cordiaz_]                  Your highness,
 My voice is not so loud as others here,
 But could I send it far as sound may go,
 It should take mercy's part in this debate.

 _Var._ You need no trump, my lord. A limpet's whistle
 Would tell us where you stand.

 _Meg._                        I stand with Cordiaz,
 His majesty of Goldusan!

 _Cor._                  This matter
 Is not for open market. Come, my friends,
 Let us go in. Please you to walk before.

  [_Rubirez, Ziralay, Vardas, and Megario enter the house, upper left.
      Their majesties linger at entrance. Guildamour retreats on path,
      upper right. Officers go off, lower left. Hernda and Señora
      Ziralay wait unnoticed, right_]

 _Cor._ Is 't kindly done, my lord, to pose your station
 In public against mine?

 _Hud._                 My neutral words
 You've packed with import all your own. I strive
 To bend not right or left, but keep my way
 As even as Justice.

 _Her._ [_To Señora_] Justice! There's a stone
 That was my father.

 _Cor._             Yet, my lord, this prince
 Is of your house.

 _Hud._           Is it for Cordiaz
 To teach me mercy?

 _Cor._            By my soul!

 _Hud._                       I know
 Whence starts this softness. Mercy has no fane
 Where you leave offering.

 _Cor._                   I know you too!
 By holy Heaven, your head was never bared
 In Justice' temple! You now seek my fall,
 Because I've turned at last to check the hand
 That rifles Goldusan. Is 't not enough
 That I've unjewelled all her treasured hills
 To alien avarice--that her forests bleed
 The priceless sap of all primeval Springs
 Into your golden stream? But I must lay
 My people under bond,--sell them as slaves
 To buy your stolen railways!

 _Hud._                      Stolen, sir?
 I've paid----

 _Cor._ I know what you have paid! You've sent
 Your henchmen creeping in the night, to buy
 At beggar's price our toil-built roads, and where
 You could not buy, you bribed and thieved, till all
 Was yours!

 _Hud._ What of _my_ toil, that built the lines
 Through half your provinces?

 _Cor._                      You paid yourself!
 Took from my governors, half gulls, half thieves
 Of your own breed, a hundred times the worth
 Of every graded foot, in lands and mines
 And water-power that holds the prisoned light
 Of robbed futurity! Now we must buy
 Once more those tracks, long over-bought,--pay you
 A value centuple for every mile,--
 Pay you in bonds--bonds in hell's verity--
 Whose interest will outrun each reckoned year
 The summed returns from our fool's purchase! No!
 That is my word while I am Goldusan!

 _Hud._ You wake too late. I'll tell you so, my lord,
 Since this imprudent burst thrusts courtesy
 From court. Your ministers have given assent----

 _Cor._ Have _given_! You'll over-steal enough
 To quit their boldest price!

 _Hud._                      I'll not defend
 Your chosen servants, sir.

 _Cor._ _My_ servants! Oh,
 What State is free from scuttling greed that bores
 For treasure through the stanchest hold?

 _Hud._ This moral chant comes late from you, my lord,
 Who've fingered heavily in many a pie
 Spiced in the devil's kitchen.

 _Cor._                        But to sell
 My people! Pay you this devouring price
 For stock that hardy yields the groaning third
 Of interest on your bonds! What shall we do
 To pay it? Rob our treasury, and ask
 Our worn-out slaves to fill it up again?
 Not ask, but goad and lash,--for you must have
 Your own--you honest mortgagees of babes
 Unborn----

 _Hud._ Is all the scarlet on our hands?
 What of that mountain province, sold entire
 To foreign pockets, and the dwellers there
 Torn up like shrieking roots and cast abroad
 To fasten where they could?

 _Cor._                     And where was that
 But in your hell-mouthed mines? You wanted slaves
 And got them.

 _Her._ I shall die, Señora!

 _Señ._                     Listen!

 _Hud._ The tyrant Cordiaz grown pitiful?
 Then stones are butter, alabaster is
 Uncrumpled down. You should have wept before
 The Pueblo strike, then fewer corpses had
 Gone out to sea.

 _Cor._ Don't name that thing to me!
 Don't speak of it! I will not bear that curse!

 _Hud._ Mine aged convert, lies it in your will,
 Or juster Heaven's?

 _Cor._             'Twas your property
 My troops defended--and Rubirez lied.
 Swore that the men foamed mad as tuskèd beasts,
 And must be trashed to place,--men who had asked
 No more than bread when you shut up your doors----

 _Hud._ Not I, my friend.

 _Cor._                  Your tool then. One of all
 Your million hookèd hands fast in the heart
 Of my poor country, shut your doors, thereby
 To starve the wretches till they crawled to you
 And begged their chains again. But they--their veins
 Were not all tapped--they'd blood left, and arose
 From their dumb prayers to _fight_ for life--and then....

 _Hud._ You sent the troops.

 _Cor._                     Because Rubirez lied!

 _Hud._ Because you knew there'd be no after-sale
 For your high favors, once let titles drift
 Unguaranteed. And when your work was done--
 _Your_ work, my tear-washed saint, why weary patience
 Could not take further time to count the dead,
 Or dig so many graves. They were piled up
 And carted to the sea----

 _Cor._                   Oh, every tide
 Brings back their faces--staring, staring up!
 Will God not answer them? I dare not shut
 My eyes....

 _Hud._ And this is why you weep so late?
 Come, Cordiaz, you're broken. Leave a throne
 Your own fears shake. You know that I must win.
 Own you are mastered----

 _Cor._                  Mastered! While I've breath
 I am a king. If I win peace of God,
 And his white angel let my dark soul out,
 'Twill be for this--the last throe of my strength
 Was spent against you!

 _Hud._                Madly you've uncased
 Your madness, and I know my weapons.

 _Cor._                              So!
 I too, my lord, know how to sleep and wake
 With hand on steel.

 _Hud._             Then is there more to say?

 _Cor._ All's said. We're waited for. Assaria,
 Will 't please you enter?

 _Hud._                   I thank you, Goldusan. [_They go in_]

 _Her._ Don't comfort me, Señora. Not a breath.
 I'll not disfigure shame with comfort's patch,
 But droop as low as leprous dust, and take
 Some pride in that. 'Tis dark here, dark. Pray God
 I am asleep!

 _Señ._      Dear princess!

 _Her._                    Men do well
 To keep the women blind. If once they knew,
 They'd breed no more, but let a bairnless world
 Escheat to God. Yet you, Señora, knew,
 And you have children. By your motherhood
 You've bound you Life's accomplice,--given it heart
 And veins and an accepting soul!

 _Señ._                          I have!
 Deny our hearts these babes, and we deny
 The future that we fight for. Ah, defeat
 May be endured by those who hold in lap
 The victors of to-morrow!

 _Her._                   Oh, my father!

 _Señ._ This truth was edged and swift. You should have had
 Love's lips to teach you----

 _Her._                      I've been taught, my friend,
 But would not learn. [_Rising_] Señora, it was I
 Betrayed your brother!

 _Señ._                Yes.... I know.

 _Her._                               To death!
 You do not understand. I killed him!

 _Señ._                              No.
 There, love,--forget a little. I've a hope
 He is not dead.

 _Her._       Not dead? What gives you hope?

 _Señ._ Perhaps the nameless mentor in the heart
 That tells us when our loved shrines are lit
 And when they're out forever. But there's more.
 Whenever Lord Megario's eye meets mine
 There's something couched there speaks me living wrong,
 Not wrong that's ended--locked within a grave
 No prayer may open. He is burning yet
 With uncompleted vengeance--and its shame.

 _Her._ Señora, you've a plan!

 _Señ._                       'Twill take much gold.

 _Her._ Ah, I have that.

 _Señ._                 And courage.

 _Her._                             Well!

 _Señ._                                  Such as,
 We're told, no woman has.

 _Her._                   Here is my life,
 And any Fate may have it that will make
 Your brother live. Will you forgive me then?

 _Señ._ [_Kissing her_] Ah, dear, you could not know....

 _Her._                                                 How did you hear?

 _Señ._ From Chartrien.

 _Her._                You are friends?

 _Señ._                                So true he seems
 Not friend but friendship to my soul. And I
 Talk here, while yonder he----

 _Her._                        They dare not! No!
 My father would.... My father? Oh, Señora! [_Sobs hopelessly_]

 _Señ._ We'll find a door to this.

 _Her._                           Would Ziralay
 Not help?

 _Señ._ Had he the wit, he would not dare.
 While I'm his wife he must keep double guard
 Against suspicion.

 _Her._            Oh!

 _Señ._               If there's one true,
 'Tis Guildamour. I'll go to him.

 _Her._                          At once!
 He took that path.

 _Señ._            I know what shade he seeks
 When he would brood.

  [_Exit Señora, upper right. Hernda waits drooping, as if too weary for
      thought. A group of ladies and gentlemen enter, lower right, among
      them Guildamour_]

 _Her._ [_Starting up_] Oh!--Guildamour!

 _Gui._                                 Your highness!

      [_Leaves his party chattering lower left, and crosses to Hernda_]

 _Her._ Señora seeks you.

 _Gui._                  Ah, about the prince?

 _Her._ We have a hope, my lord, your hand may turn
 Some stone of rescue.

 _Gui._               Mine are powerless hands,
 Pinned to inaction's cross. My eyes may turn
 No way that is not watched. To lift my lids
 May raise a cry of "Treason!"

 _Her._                       There's no help?
 In all this land no help?

 _Gui._                   Megario,
 Could he be softened to it, is the man
 Who might with safety slip a secret bolt
 For Chartrien.

 _Her._ He!

 _Gui._    His name is set above
 The nick of treason by his stern dispatch
 Of poor LeVal,--and, that struck off, he yet
 Is chronicled so dark that none would lay
 A fair deed at his door.

 _Her._                  Megario!

 _Gui._ I would not name him, but I know he loves you,
 And there's no soul that love may not endue
 With tinge of Heaven.

      [_Re-enter Señora_]

 _Her._          Señora!

 _Señ._ [_Panting_] I have seen him!

 _Gui._ The prince?

 _Her._            Not Chartrien?

 _Señ._                          Yes!

 _Gui._                              Escaped?

 _Señ._                                      The guards
 Were of our heart--they let him make the wood--
 I've hidden him----

 _Her._             Oh, where?

 _Señ._                       Within the cave
 Veiled by the waterfall. But safety there
 Is minute-frail.

 _Gui._ What way? He'll climb the wall?

 _Señ._ And drop into the river.

 _Gui._                         Yes. What guard
 Walks there? I see. 'Tis Miguel. And I know
 Somewhat of him,--more than he'd tell the winds.

 _Señ._ Thank Heaven for a sinner! When he's next
 Behind the rocks, then to him, Guildamour,
 And be his palsying conscience. Peg his feet
 To the earth!

 _Gui._ Trust me, Señora!

 _Señ._                  I'll lead off
 Those babblers. Princess, you're the watch,--you'll give
 The signal.

 _Her._ Ah! What is 't?

 _Señ._                Two pebbles dashed
 Into the water is our sign.

 _Her._                     The guard!
 He's gone!

 _Gui._ It is our time. [_Exit into wood, rear_]

 _Her._ [_As the talkative group move up_] Take them away,
 Señora! It would kill me now to meet
 A painted smile.

 _Señ._          I'll go. And you--be swift.
 Don't stop--don't think. [_Joins group_]
                         I know where lordings three
 Wait for as many maids.

 _A young lady._ You saw them pass?

 _Señ._ Disconsolate.

 _Young Lady._       O, to the river!

 _Another._                          Come!

      [_They go off with Señora, lower left_]

 _Her._ Now! [_Takes up two stones. Ziralay and Megario come out of
 the house_] Oh! [_She drops the stones. They cross to her_]

 _Meg._     You wait?

 _Her._              I read the sentence.

 _Zir._                                  Death.

 _Her._ And when?

 _Zir._          To-night. They've given Vardas charge
 Of 't. He's an eager butcher,--does not know
 Delay.

 _Her._ You wished his death.

 _Zir._                      I voted no.
 Megario laid my doubts.

 _Her._                 Did he do that?

 _Zir._ He countered to their teeth.

 _Her._ [_To Megario_] So merciful
 Is hate?

 _Meg._ The prince's death would mean the fall
 Of Cordiaz, and our houses rock with his.

 _Her._ Be clearer, pray you.

 _Meg._ Vardas wants the throne,
 And we've a sour and guilty faction here
 Who'd see him on it, but they dare not move
 Against a king yet rich in arms and friends.
 And Hudibrand is not so absolute
 That he may turn the army of Assaria
 On the sole pivot of his word. For that,
 Even he must knock the sleeping nation up
 And ask good leave.

 _Her._             You'd say, sir, Hudibrand
 Would favor Vardas?

 _Zir._             Short and plain, he does.

 _Her._ What then?

 _Meg._           The Assarians are proud, and where
 They think their honor's pricked, their pride out-tops
 Their judgment. Chartrien's death, whose ugly weight
 Must lie with Cordiaz, will inflame their hearts
 Till Hudibrand may send an army on us,
 His people clapping to 't. In open day
 They'll choose the road his cunning cut by night,
 And pray him take it.

 _Zir._               Ay, and where are we,
 With Vardas crowned in Goldusan?

 _Her._                          I see.

 _Meg._ He'd like my million acres in Peonia
 Sliced for his foreign hounds!

      [_Enter an officer_]

 _Zir._                        What trouble now?

 _Off._ Prince Chartrien has escaped.

 _Meg._                              And you in charge?

 _Off._ I sent him with good men, or so I thought,
 Being pressed to another way----

 _Meg._                          His guards,--what name?

 _Off._ Vinaldo, and a sergeant, who----

 _Meg._                                 Vinaldo!
 He's on the blue list, turning fast to black.
 Did you not know it?

 _Off._              I held him, sir, the pick
 Of loyalty.

 _Meg._ Well,--on. What else?

 _Off._                      They reached
 The grove, passed in, and after prudent time,
 The guards came out, smug as all right, and now
 They're gone,--clear foot,--will doff you from the hills.

 _Meg._ A tale for Vardas! You may save your beard,
 But not your neck.

 _Off._            I'll not shake yet. The prince
 Is in the grove. We'll soon uncover him.

 _Zir._ The walls are picketed?

 _Off._                        A double watch
 Is on.

 _Zir._ That's well enough.

 _Off._                    On chance he makes
 The wall, I've reinforced the river guard.

 _Meg._ Both sides?

 _Off._            A close patrol, both east and west.
 Though he had fishes' gills and dived the stream,
 He'd not get by. That way is fast against him
 As Belam's iron door.

 _Meg._ [_To Hernda_] You're ill?

 _Her._                          No, no!
 I'm well--quite well.

 _Meg._               The lily in your cheek
 Lies not so bravely.

 _Off._ [_To Ziralay_] If he gets out of this,
 He'll steer around the moon. We'll find him, sir.
 But he's most darkly hid. Has made a coat
 Of leaves and plays the grouse trick on us.

 _Zir._                                     Come!
 His majesty must know. [_Ziralay and officer go into house_]

 _Meg._ How may I help you? Let the service be
 Of such poor nature as your dog might give,
 And pride will whistle to it.

 _Her._                       O, my lord,
 I half believe you. When our angels fall,
 Then devils are not black. And I have lost
 My father.

 _Meg._ Devils! You've a tongue.

 _Her._                         Forgive
 A heart unmantled, and too wild to choose
 What word may veil it. I would say, my lord,
 In this discolored world I now begin
 To find you fair,----

 _Meg._               O, heavenly retraction!

 _Her._ And if I ask a service it will be
 No paltry one, but such as makes the king
 Bow to the knight.

 _Meg._            I'll prove this grace
 Is native in me, and not solely lent
 Of your new bounty!

 _Her._             Would you save the life
 Of Chartrien?

 _Meg._ I would. Though a treasonous tool
 Of rebelry, he should be held by me
 A prisoner of knightliest war.

 _Her._                        A prisoner!

 _Meg._ You can not ask his freedom! That would give
 My foes clear argument to pluck me bare,
 And set me outlawed on the rebel side
 Of this deplored division.

 _Her._                    Oh, not free!
 And in your power!

 _Meg._            To hold him prisoner,--that
 I'd undertake, and make the action good
 Even to this bloody council.

 _Her._                      You'd dare that?

 _Meg._ My policy is open, and I'd dare
 To put it into deed that must commend me
 To their unwilling justice. To do more
 Would disarray all sense,--be fullest like
 The idiot's gesture that disrobes the wretch
 Of his last sanity.

 _Her._             Megario....

 _Meg._ What secret is so dear these costly sighs,
 Like gentle pickets ever reinforced,
 Let it not pass?

 _Her._          A secret? No!

 _Meg._                       But yes.
 I push me by its fragile guardians,
 And hear it beating in its citadel.

 _Her._ What says it then?

 _Meg._                   You've seen the prince.

 _Her._                                          My lord!

 _Meg._ You know what shadow hides him.

 _Her._                                No, no, no!
 My oath, sir, I've not seen him!

 _Meg._                          I would trust
 One negative, not three. Give him to me,
 And you will know he lives. Let him be found
 By Vardas' men, and when you wake to-morrow
 The earth will be without him.

 _Her._                        No, not you!
 I'll go to Cordiaz. He'll save the prince
 As he would save his throne. You've taught me that.

 _Meg._ He'd lose it so. Should Cordiaz to-night
 Set Chartrien free, he'd rise without a lord
 To bid him one good-morrow.

 _Her._ Ziralay....

 _Meg._            Ask him? An ass whose ears if visible
 Would signal Mars! Say he had courage for you,
 He'd blunder with the prince to Vardas' arms.

 _Her._ Ah, _you_ could do it,--set him free!

 _Meg._                                      Nay--don't--
 Don't ask it, if you've mercy! Your highness knows
 I could not grant so much though lips I love
 Above my soul should beg that treason of me.
 Though they should take again those dearest words
 That knighted me, and now lie in my heart
 Like swelling seed of fortune! Let me shield
 His life. In saintliest trust---- [_She shudders from him_]
                                  You fear me so?

 _Her._ I do! I do! You took away LeVal,
 And he no longer lives.

 _Meg._                 He does! My oath,
 He does!

 _Her._ You spared him?

 _Meg._                By my soul, he lives!
 But let the word sleep in your vestal ear,
 Until these smouldering troubles die to dust
 And feed the grass above them. For the State
 Believes LeVal is dead, nor taints me with
 Such treacherous clemency. See how I lay
 My safety and my honor in your hands?
 I give them, hostages for Chartrien!
 Ah, you should know how I will guard your trust,
 For when I say to you he does not live,
 Your eyes will slay the single, nurturing hope
 Of my own life!

 _Her._ [_Battling_] I can not! I'm not Fate
 To do her awesome work.

 _Meg._                 We aid her most
 With passive hand, as Chartrien's ghost will come
 On mourning nights to tell you.

 _Her._                         Oh, I'll speak!...
 No, no! Ah, never, never!

 _Meg._ [_Resolute, giving up his suit_] I must join
 The hunt. There's but one place--the cave----

 _Her._                                       The cave!

 _Meg._ Those guards are fools--or shy of water.

 _Her._                                         Sir,
 What cave?

 _Meg._ He's there. Your cold, uncandid calm
 Has babbled it. The frost is crafty that
 Puts out such anxious fire.

 _Her._                     My lord, if I
 Should tell you....

 _Meg._             Quickly then! How canst debate
 So fatally, knowing delay but robs him
 Of venture's favor? Every moment steals
 A bud of chance.

 _Her._          How will you take him out?

 _Meg._ I'll pass the gates unchallenged. Close without,
 My car stands by,--a racer never spent,
 And begs no pause. Know he is safe, and sleep.
 Night will be secret, and we'll greet the sun
 In my Peonia----

 _Her._          Ah, Peonia's far!

 _Meg._ And Vardas near.

 _Her._                 Take these two stones, my lord.
 Cast them into the falls----

 _Meg._                      So! I was right!
 But you must summon him.

 _Her._                  So soon a tyrant?

 _Meg._ I'll take him from your hands,--no other way.
 Your trust to me! And with my life I'll guard it!
 For that you love him is my means to you.
 Once in your heart, I'll win the throned place
 Though all his saints defend it!

 _Her._                          True, my friend,
 We shall be nearer, for anxiety
 Will draw me to you with a longing like
 The aching letch for morning in the eyes
 Pain keeps astare. You then will be the goal
 Of fondest question,--and from that--who knows?
 Out of unbroken faith, and kindly shafts
 'Tween hearts disponent, bridges have been built
 For love's plenipotence to cross.

 _Meg._                           You bid
 Me hope?

 _Her._ I do not say despair. Sometimes
 A presto-worker sits within the soul
 Of gratitude, and love that must give thanks
 In name of one beloved, has then been known
 To pass from the liege object to the heart
 Whose compass held them both in selfless bounds
 Of chivalry. And yet--I promise nothing!

 _Meg._ I ask no promise but the one I find
 In words that so deny it. Now the thought
 Is born, I'll make the naked infant grow
 Heir of my princely opportunity.
 Go now. An instant may defeat us. Haste!
 My purse must buy a guard.
    [_Hernda goes off, upper right. Megario walks left and calls_]
              Benito! Ho!
 You and your fellow!
                  [_Enter two guards_]
                     I have work for you.
 You've seen my gold before. Here's more of it.
 Stand for my word.

      [_Hernda returns with Chartrien_]

 _Cha._            Gods give me time for one
 Wild kiss! O, Heaven! To find and lose you in
 One whirling breath!

 _Meg._ [_His pistol at aim_] You are my prisoner.

      [_Señora rushes on left_]

 _Señ._ Oh, princess! Oh!

 _Meg._ [_To guards_] Move on with him.

 _Her._                                Wait--wait----

 _Meg._ No time.

 _Her._ But I must tell----

 _Cha._                    Let fiends be dumb.
 You damned and double traitress, this my hand
 Could lay you dead!

 _Meg._ [_To Hernda, who seems dazed_] My goddess, I'll be true!

  [_Kisses her, and goes off, lower right, with Chartrien and
      guards_]

 _Señ._ You let him kiss you!

 _Her._                      Who?

 _Señ._                          Megario.

 _Her._ I did not know it. I am dead, I think.

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT III


SCENE: _A yard, walled and spiked, of Megario's hacienda. A long, low
hut, the men's sleeping-quarters, at right. In upper centre, a smaller
hut which serves for kitchen and also as sleeping-room for several
women. On left, the yard continues, showing other huts used by families.
The entrance gate is off stage, left. An unused gate, locked and barred
in wall, right._

_Hernda, in the guise of a young Maya woman known as Famette, stirs a
pan of food which is heating on some coals in front of kitchen. Lissa
stands in door of hut watching her._


 _Lis._ [_Stepping out_] You mend, Famette. But when you came--all thumbs.
 A woman grown and couldn't spoon up fish!

 _Fam._ It was the smell. How can they eat it, Lissa?

 _Lis._ You'll eat it too.

 _Fam._                   That? Never!

 _Lis._                               Another week
 Will starve you to it.

  [_Ysobel comes out of kitchen bearing apron full of cups and spoons
      which she places on ground_]

 _Yso._ [_Looking left_] Here's Masio in. [_Enters hut_]

 _Lis._ He's always first.
   [_Masio comes up left_] How did my boy get on?

 _Mas._ I wasn't near him in the field.

 _Lis._                                He did
 His stint?

 _Mas._ I never heard.

 _Lis._               No eyes, no ears,--
 All belly, you!

 _Mas._ [_Taking up spoon and cup from the pile_] Fish! fish!

 _Lis._                Beans first. You know
 The rules.

 _Mas._ I've teeth can break 'em. Fish, Famette!
      [_Famette puts fish into his cup_]
 There'll be a blessed cleaning-up to-night.

 _Lis._ More beating? Has the master come?

 _Mas._ [_Nods_]                          And on
 The rounds. He'll clear the yards. News from the north
 Has turned him red and black.

 _Fam._                       A flogging? Oh,
 If you were men you'd fight with your bare hands
 Till you were free!

 _Mas._             Free as the dead. Our blood
 Would soak the earth and make more hennequin,--
 That's all.

 _Fam._ Then run away.

 _Mas._               How far? The swamps?
 To sleep with snakes--a week or less?

 _Fam._                               Across
 The ridges.

 _Mas._     Where the sun would lap you dry
 As crackling cat-guts? Thirst would draw you in
 To th' next hacienda well. The masters own
 The water, and in this land, that's life.

 _Fam._                                   No chance?
 They never get away?

 _Mas._              Sometimes a man
 Makes Quito, but he soon comes back.

 _Fam._                              Comes back?

 _Mas._ What else? In Quito there's no work. He starves.
 And here--there's beans. So he gives up, and then
 They send him back.

 _Fam._ And he is flogged?

 _Mas._                   Ay, till
 His bones crack.

 _Fam._          Oh! He bears it?

 _Mas._                          Like a man,
 My dear.

 _Fam._ The coward!

 _Mas._            So--back to the field,
 Mute as a snail, and poorer too, for then
 The dream is gone of any life but this.

 _Fam._ They have no spirit--none!

 _Mas._                           Much as you'll have
 This time next year.

 _Fam._              Next year? I shall be gone.
 My debt was just ten pesos.

 _Mas._ [_Incredulous_] You were sold
 For that?

 _Fam._ I'll work it out.

 _Mas._                  Be 't ten or hundreds,
 Who comes here stays. You'll soon know that, my bird,
 And limber your fine neck.

  [_As they talk, men and women enter in groups of scores and dozens
      until there are several hundred in the yard. They are mostly of
      mixed blood, their color ranging from the full brown of the Maya
      to the pale olive of the Peonian aristocrat. At a spout, upper
      left, they wash their hands, then drop about wearily. One man
      sits near Famette, his head sunk on his chest. She lays her hand
      on his shoulder_]

 _Fam._                    What, Garza, you?
 Who were so blithe this morning, on your way
 To freedom?

 _Garza._ [_Rocking_] Mother of God! Oh, Mother of God!

 _Fam._ What is it, Garza?

 _Mas._                   There you have it! You see
 Who comes here stays.

 _Fam._               But he was free! His friend
 Brought twenty pesos to pay off his debt.

 _Gonzalo._ And when he went to pay it, on the books
 There stood two hundred pesos against Garza.

 _Mas._ Two hundred--twenty,--you see, Famette,
 How much a little "o" can do.

 _Fam._                       They dare
 Do that? I'll see the magistrate! [_The men stare at her_]

 _Mas._ [_Patting her shoulder_] Poor girl!

 _Fam._ I will! Why not? What is he for?

 _Gon._                                 What for?
 To see we are well beaten when we ask
 For justice. He must serve who pays him,--that's
 The master.

 _Fam._     Oh, you worse than slaves!

 _Mas._                               No names,
 My proudling. Wait a year, then what you please.

  [_The men have been eating. Ysobel stands in door of hut holding a
      great bowl of beans from which the peons fill their cups. Lissa
      gives out the fish. Her boy, Iduso, crouches by her skirts_]

 _Lis._ [_To boy_] Not eat? Now you're a man? Twelve years to-day!

 _Fam._ [_Bending over Iduso_] Is 't fever, Lissa?

 _Lis._ [_With sullen jealousy_] Let him be, Famette.
 What do you know? You've got no children.

 _Fam._                                   I've
 A little brother.

 _Lis._           Brother! Nothing that.

 _Fam._ He's just Iduso's age.

 _Lis._ [_Softened_]          And has to take
 A man's work on him?

 _Fam._              N-o----

 _Lis._                     I said it now.
 What do you know? Look at your hands--not stumps
 Like mine.

 _Mas._ Who hugs the post to-night?

 _Gon._                            I heard
 Of seven warned.

 _Yso._          My man! He hasn't come!

 _Mas._ God's mercy, give us peace! It was his turn
 To put away the knives.

      [_Ysobel leans against hut. Famette takes bowl from her_]

 _Lis._                 There's seven, you say?

 _Ben._ None from this yard. Famette, you haven't seen
 A flogging yet?

 _Fam._ And never will, you beast!

 _Ben._ Your never's short,--less than an hour.

 _Fam._ What do you mean?

 _Ben._                  The whip draws blood to-night,
 And we must all look on, for our soul's good.
 It is the master's order.

 _Fam._                   I'll not go!

 _Mas._ Why, God looks on, Famette, and so may we.
 All Heaven sees it, and I'll pledge my--fish--
 That not an angel blanches.

 _Gon._                     You should see
 The master!

 _Fam._ _He_ is there? Does _he_ look on?

 _Mas._ O, not quite that. To eye the work
 Would show too grossly, but you'll see him there,--
 Somewhat aside, leaning against a yew,
 Most carefully at ease. Then he will light
 A delicate cigar that fills the grove
 With a fantastic odor, like, we'll say,
 Faint musk that creeps on burning pine.
 You will approve the quality, Famette.
 That is his signal.

 _Fam._             Oh!

 _Mas._                Long as he puffs,
 And soft, white rings twirl upward to the leaves,
 The lashes fall. And when, grown gently weary,
 As 'twere half accident, from his high thoughts
 Remote, he clears the cindered tip--like this--
 The whip is still.

 _Fam._            Where, where am I?

 _Mas._                              In hell,
 Sweetheart.

 _Fam._ Who are you, Masio? You are not
 As these that suffer speechless.

 _Mas._                          Pinch the difference!
 A little learning, and a few opinions
 That brought me here.

 _Fam._ [_Moving aside with him_] What did you do?

 _Mas._                                           I spoke
 The truth too near the ear of Cordiaz,
 And there's no greater crime.

 _Fam._                       You are a prisoner?
 But you're not guarded.

 _Mas._ No, they leave me free,
 In hope I'll run. Then they will shoot me down.
 And you--what brought you here? Ten pesos
 Could never buy you--nor a hundred either.

 _Fam._ I mean to lead these men to join Bolderez:

 _Mas._ What! Lead them out?

 _Fam._                     And you will help me do it.

 _Mas._ Well, when I want to die. You're mad.
                                             We're all
 Sprats in a net. _You'll_ not get out, once let
 The master see you. Better hide those eyes----

 _Yso._ [_Running and catching Masio by the shoulder_]
          You lied to me! You lied! They've got my Grija!
 Down in the lower yard!

 _Grija._ [_Entering and making his way to her_] No! Here I am.
 Safe in, old tear-box.

 _Yso._ Holy Mary!

      [_Tells her beads rapidly as he leads her aside_]

 _Fam._ [_Aroused_] Men!
 If Osa looked from yonder mountain scarp,
 Would she descend to lead such currish hearts
 To liberty?

 _Gon._ We are not dogs.

 _Fam._                 Then shame
 To bear the life of dogs!

 _Ben._                   What do you know
 Of Osa?

 _Fam._ Know? Does she not guard the shrine
 Cherished ten centuries in your secret hills?
 Priestess and princess, daughter of your kings,--
 The ancient poet kings who ruled and sang
 In palaces where now your huddled huts
 Give you a slave's foul shelter!

 _A Voice._                      Will she come?

 _Fam._ To such as you? With heads hung down, and backs
 Bared for the whip? The moment that you hold
 Your manhood dearer than your life, she'll stand
 Before you. Then you'll see----

 _Mas._                         For God's sake, hush!
 The master!

 _Ben._ [_As all look left_] No, it's Coquriez.

 _Gon._ With his Gringo.

      [_Coquriez enters with Chartrien. They cross right_]

 _Cha._ Leave me alone.

 _Coq._                My soul, am I not sick
 Of your dumb lordship? Now the master's here,
 I hope, by Jesu, that our ways will part.

  [_Turns and joins the men, leaving Chartrien seated on the stone step
      of one of the doors to the long hut, right. Megario enters unseen
      and stands watching, left. They gradually become aware of his
      presence, and all are silent_]

 _Meg._ Coquriez!

 _Coq._ [_Crossing left_] Here, sir!

  [_The tension relaxes slightly. Lissa and Ysobel quietly distribute
      food and the men eat in silence. Famette keeps in shadow, a shawl
      over her head, and vainly tries to hear what Megario and Coquriez
      are saying. They talk in low tones at left, then more centre,
      front_]

 _Coq._                             Shoot the Gringo, sir?
 I thought he was to live.

 _Meg._                   It must be done
 To-morrow.

 _Coq._ I'll do it.

 _Meg._            Take him on the road,
 And don't come back with him.

 _Coq._                       To-morrow, sir?

 _Meg._ At day-break. Drop him cold. I was a fool
 To let him live a day!
      [_Famette has advanced too far and Megario sees her_]
                       Who's that?

 _Coq._                           There? Oh!
 I bought her in last week.

 _Meg._                    The day I left?

 _Coq._ I think 'twas then.

 _Meg._                    An old one,--so you said.

 _Coq._ About the Gringo, sir,----

 _Meg._                           What is her name?

 _Coq._ Famette.

      [_Famette goes back to the women_]

 _Meg._         A figure too.

 _Coq._                      It's not so easy
 To drop a white-skin----

 _Meg._                  Come, Famette! Come here.
      [_She turns and comes slowly_]
 Old? By the gods! Why did you lie to me?

 _Coq._ My lord ... you like none past fourteen.
                    She's that
 Half over.

 _Meg._ Brazen devil! Come, Famette.
 I like your name. I like your face too, girl.
 Don't be afraid. Show me your eyes. You won't?
 Where have I seen you?

 _Fam._                I'm a stranger, sir.
 My home was in the north.

 _Meg._                   That fester-spot!
 A stranger? Then we must be good to you.
 Where do you sleep?

 _Fam._             There, in the hut.

 _Meg._                               You'll have
 A better soon. Next time I'll see your eyes. [_Going_]
 Mind, Coquriez, to-morrow! Do that well,
 I'll pardon this. [_Exit_]

 _Fam._           What is 't you do to-morrow?
 And why do you need pardon? You who serve
 So well?

 _Coq._ My pretty bird, I've been too slow.

 _Fam._ Too slow?

 _Coq._          I've limped, and lost.

 _Fam._                                Ah, Coquriez!

 _Coq._ You're not afraid of _me_. You look at me,
 And turned from him. That's honey on his curse!

 _Fam._ He curses you? And you do all for him!
 All that he asks you,--things he dares not do
 With his own hand.

 _Coq._            You care for that?

 _Fam._                              You risk
 Your soul, perhaps,----

 _Coq._                 'Tis certain. Pray for me,
 Chiquita.

 _Fam._ When?

 _Coq._      To-morrow I must leave
 The Gringo in the marshes.

 _Fam._                    Oh, 'twas that!
 And paid with curses----

 _Lis._ [_Calls, as a new batch of men come in_]
           Come, Famette! Here's work!

 _Fam._ We'll talk again. [_Hurries to Lissa_]

 _A man._                The beans are cold.

 _Another._                                 Soured too!
 Gray Moses, here's a life!

 _Mas._                    Do you complain,
 O, comrades? Now your hour is come? The pearl
 O' the long ungarnished day? The holy hour
 Of--beans? Why, think! What do we live for, men?
 For sweaty moments battling 'gainst the sun
 To strip the thorny hennequin? For nights
 Of bitten sleep in unwashed pens? Not so.
 Lift up your cups! Here is the crown of toil!
 Each day we reach our life's supremest dome,
 And know we're there! Can man ask more? Even kings,
 Though the gold frontal of munificence
 Is bowed before them, yet must fretting guess
 The morrow's store. But we, my friends, we know!
 Then let each separate and distinct legume,
 Dear as the Egyptian treasure lost in wine,
 Delay as preciously----

 _Coq._ [_Cutting him across shoulders_]
                        Come down from that!
 There's more for you, my friend, i' the lower yard.
 I'll tie you up.

 _Fam._          O, Coquriez, let him go.
 _You_ should not care. His tongue was born with him,
 And God may mend it. Let the fool alone.

 _Coq._ Hmm, if you ask me----

 _Fam._                       Thank you, Coquriez.
 I'll stand for him he'll not offend again.

 _Mas._ My tongue is glue. 'Twill stick to its place.

 _A man._                                            Fish! fish!

 _Another._ He's had his share.

 _The man._                    Not half a cup!
 O, Jesu, I am starved. I did my stint,
 And helped the boy, Famette. Can I do that
 On half a cup?

 _Fam._        No, Berto, here is more.

 _Yso._ The Gringo does not eat.

 _Fam._                         I'll take him this.

  [_Fills cup from bowl of beans and goes to Chartrien, who is still
      seated on the step, listless and observing nothing_]

 _Fam._ Señor?

 _Cha._       Who spoke? O, you, Famette? No, thanks.
 I can not eat. [_Turns from her_] That's twice I've heard the voice
 Of Hernda. Madness creeps, but surely comes.

 _Fam._ [_Over his shoulder_] You must escape to-night.

 _Cha._ [_Facing her_] Escape? To-night?

 _Fam._ Here, hold the cup, and eat. Do, sir! We're watched.
 To-morrow Coquriez leads you to the woods,
 Comes back alone----

 _Cha._              At last I know my hour.

 _Fam._ But you shall live. Last night I worked till day
 At that locked gate. 'Tis open. None suspects.
 Outside there's water in a flask, and bread,--
 Beneath the cactus at the left----

 _Cha._                            But how
 Get out? I am locked in at night, and watched
 At other hours.

 _Fam._    Eat, eat, and listen, Señor!
 To-night a flogging in the lower yard
 Will empty this. You'll go with Coquriez.
 Urge him to bring you back. Say you are ill,--
 For that you are,--and come. Here I shall hide,
 And as you pass, will suddenly step out
 And speak to Coquriez. You fall behind,
 In shadow of my hut, move round it, wait
 This side, then see what's next to do.

 _A man._ [_Calling_] Famette?
 Where is Famette? She doesn't count the beans.

      [_Famette goes back to the men_]

 _Cha._ It is a lure. If I attempt escape,
 Then Coquriez shoots me dead, his soul just clear
 Of murder.

 _Coq._ [_To Famette_] Our Gringo's learned to eat, I see.

 _Cha._ Now do they change confederate nods, and gaze
 Their mated thoughts. Down, down to dust, my heart!
 The struggle's off. I'll fight no more. Yon stars
 Have rest for me. Is 't so? Vain footing there.
 What rest have they, that share with man the surge
 From life to life? There Jupiters unfound
 Whirl cooling till their straining sides may bear
 Ocean and land and clinging bride of green;
 And Saturns, nameless yet, cast travailing
 Their ringed refulgence. Not the frozen moons
 May fix in stillness, but sweep captive back
 To flaming centres when their planets call.
 There old, dead suns, that think their work is done,
 Meet crashing, ground to cloudy fire whose worlds,
 Far driven, traverse time and know men's days.
 Ay, one may go beyond the ether's breath,
 Farthest of all, to be another First,
 Undreaming this our God. And I must shift
 Eternal and unresting as those suns.
 Then let Death hasten. He shall be as one
 Who timely strips a wrestler of his cloak,
 And, kindly freed, I shall uncumbered leap
 To other battle, finding armor where
 I find my cause.

 _A man._ [_To Famette_] My turn. Here, give me that.

 _Fam._ The Gringo's had no fish.

 _The man._                      Then give me his.
 He doesn't care. Has run already from
 The smell.

 _Fam._ I'll give you half. The rest
 I'll take to him.

 _Coq._           He'll come for what he wants.

 _Fam._ No, he is sick, poor devil! [_Goes to Chartrien_]

 _Coq._                            Humph!

 _Fam._ [_To Chartrien_]                 You'll take
 The chance? There is no other.

 _Cha._                        It's a trap.
 You risk your life for me, a Gringo? No.

 _Fam._ You must believe me! Oh, what can I say!

 _Cha._ Say nothing. Go.

 _Fam._                 I love you, love you, Señor!

 _Cha._ You would persuade me.

 _Fam._                       Sir, the wine you found
 Behind your prison door,--and good, clean bread,--
 I put them there!

 _Cha._           'Twas you, Famette? I thought
 That Coquriez did it,--feared I'd die before
 The master came.

 _Fam._          Not his brute heart! And then
 That night, of fever----

 _Cha._                  Yes! What then?

 _Fam._                                 I lay
 Outside your jail, my head against the wall,
 That I might hear if once you groaned, or know
 If sleep had come.

 _Cha._            Can such love be for me?

 _Fam._ You must--you _must_ believe me!

 _Cha._                                 God, your eyes!
            [_She lowers her head_]
 ... 'Tis madness, bred of these sun-poisoned days,
 And nights without a hope.... Look up, Famette.
 I do believe you.

 _Fam._ [_Kissing her rosary_] Mother, adored and blessed!

 _Cha._ Wilt be a beggar soldier's bride, Famette?

 _Fam._ You do not love me, Señor.

 _Cha._                           But I love
 Your gentle heart that warms mine empty,--love
 Your eyes, like memories burning,--and your voice
 That's linked to an old wound in me,--but most
 I love your soul that is as great as truth
 And strong as sacrifice. You'll come to me
 In Quito, if I make escape? I'll find
 A way to bring you out----

 _Fam._                    You're mine?

 _Cha._                                Till death.

 _Fam._ And after that?

 _Cha._                I'll give you truth for truth.
 Beyond this world I hope to meet a soul
 Who did not walk in this, but ought to have,
 For here her body dwelt. This side of death,
 My life--a bitter one, that only you
 Have sweetened--is your own, if you will have
 So mean a gift.

  [_Ipparro has entered the yard and becomes a centre of altercation.
      He starts out taking Lissa's boy, Iduso. There is a shriek from
      Lissa, and Famette hurries to her_]

 _Lis._    My boy! My little one!
 God strike you dead, Ipparro!

 _Fam._                       You'll not flog
 The boy?

 _Ipp._ He didn't do his stint by half.
 You know the master's rules. He's twelve years old.
 Must cut three thousand leaves.

 _Fam._                         A man's full work.
 And he's so small.

 _Lis._            And sick he is. Two days
 He couldn't eat.

 _Ipp._          You women!

 _Fam._                    Let him go.
 A little child, Ipparro.

 _Ipp._                  Let him go?
 Am I the master of the hacienda?
 He'll tie _me_ up to-morrow!

 _Fam._                      It will kill
 Iduso.

 _Lis._ Such a little one, he is!
 A baby yesterday,--to-day a man,--
 How can that be?

      [_An overseer enters left_]

 _Overseer._ What's up? Come on with you!
 The master waits,--burns like perdition! Come!
 Come, all of you! The women too! Clear out!

  [_Drives them out. Famette slips into her hut. Chartrien joins the men
      and follows last with Coquriez. They stop left_]

 _Coq._ Won't see the show?

 _Cha._                    I'll not go on.

 _Coq._                                   Come then.
 I'll lock you up. [_They turn back_]
                  We'll have an early march
 To-morrow, mate. Must hit the brush by dawn.
 There's little sleep for me.

 _Cha._                      Shall I have more
 In that hot pen?

 _Coq._ [_Laughs_] You'll make it up, I guess.

 _Cha._ I understand. You'll murder me.

 _Coq._                                My soul!
 Let's keep our manners, though we sit in hell,
 My occupation's decent, nothing said.
 The silent deed is clean, but mouth it once,
 The hands will smell. Pah!
      [_Famette steps out of hut_]
                           Here's my kitten!
 A kiss, my honey-pot!

 _Fam._               I've better for you.

     [_Gives him a bottle of wine_]

 _Coq._ My ducky! From the master's cellar!
 ... How----

 _Fam._ No matter. It is good.

 _Coq._                       Thief of my soul,
 A kiss!

      [_As he attempts to embrace her she springs back, pointing left_]

 _Fam._ Look, look! He's gone! The Gringo flies!
 O, Coquriez, you'll be shot!

 _Coq._ [_Stunned for a moment, springs off shouting_]
 Help! Stop him! Help! [_Exit left, firing his pistol_]
 The Gringo! Stop him!

      [_Famette runs to gate right, where Chartrien is removing bar_]

 _Cha._               Come! Fly with me! Now!
 I can not leave you here!

 _Fam._                   Go! Do not stop,
 However weary, till you're safe in Quito.
 The wounded hare, remember, takes no nap.

 _Cha._ Come, come!

 _Fam._            No, I am safe. And there's more work
 For me. They'll come back here to search. Nay, go!
 Another moment and we both shall die!

 _Cha._ [_Kissing her_] I'll wait in Quito,--then a husband's kiss!

  [_Goes. Famette puts up bar, then returns to her hut and sinks at
      door_]

 _Fam._ If I could pray! If I could pray! How far
 Seems that old God I knew! A playhouse God
 Who never saw the world! [_Leaps up_]
                         They're coming back!

  [_Sits again, abjectly, her shawl over her head. Megario, Coquriez,
      and peons, enter_]

 _Meg._ Where is the woman?

 _Coq._                    There she sits,--the witch!

 _Meg._ Stand up! Take off that shawl!

      [_Famette stands up. A man snatches the shawl from her head_]

 _Meg._                        Famette! Not you?

 _Fam._ [_Cowering_] I, master.

 _Meg._ [_To men_]             Search the yard. Turn every leaf
 And stone.

      [_The men scatter_]

 _Mas._ I'll give that gate a look. [_Crosses to gate right_]

 _Meg._                            This was
 Your drooping modesty! [_Turns on Coquriez_]
                       You fool!--to let
 The man escape! By Heaven, you might have burnt
 The hacienda down and not have made
 My blood so hot!

 _Coq._          It was the woman, sir.
 She jumped before me, smiling like a devil,
 And when I tried to pass she caught my knees
 And held this thing up, saying 'twas for me.
 I kicked her off----

 _Meg._              No doubt!

 _Coq._                       And when I turned
 The prisoner was gone.

 _Meg._ [_To Famette_] You saw him go?

 _Fam._ Yes, master. Through the gate, like wings. And then
 I gave the warning. Coquriez knows I did.

 _Meg._ What did she say?

 _Coq._                  She cried "The Gringo flies!"
 And pointed there.

 _Mas._ [_Returning_] The upper gate is fast.
 He went that way. [_Nods left_] Beneath the cypresses
 Into the maguey fields.

 _A man._               He'll not get far.
 He has no water.

 _Meg._          He will die in th' brush,
 And I shall never know it. Alive or dead,
 He must be found. I'll flog a man a day,
 Until I see his bones.

 _Gon._ [_Coming up_] He is not here.
 We've looked in all the huts.

 _Meg._                       Ipparro?

 _Ipp._                               Sir!

 _Meg._ Send men abroad, for fifty miles about,
 To put the haciendas on the watch.
 He must come in for water. Choose good men,
 Who _ride_, and see no wenches by the way.

 _Coq._ My lord, I've served you long----

 _Meg._                                  Too long, you hound!
 Where is your lady's token?

 _Coq._                     This, my lord.
 She thrust it in my hand.

 _Meg._                   And left it too!

 _Coq._ I knew 'twas yours.

 _Meg._ [_To Famette_] A thief too, are you?

      [_Famette crouches, drawing shawl over her head_]

 _Meg._                                     True,
 Coquriez, you have served me long. I'll add
 You've served me well until to-night.

 _Coq._                               O, pardon!

 _Meg._ I trusted you. And held your hand as mine,
 To make my wishes deeds.

 _Coq._                  'Tis sworn your own!

 _Meg._ Then prove it. Take this whip. Come, take it, man!
 Now flog that witch.

 _Coq._              Famette! A woman, sir?

 _Meg._ The devil's second name is woman. Do it!

 _Coq._ A heavy hand I've laid on men, my lord,
 But never yet----

 _Meg._ Her smile struck deep to make
 Such putty of your heart.
                [_Coquriez drops whip_] Pick up that whip!
 _You_ want its kisses, do you? Pick it up,
 Or you shall feel them to your traitor bones!
 I'll have you flogged together!

  [_Coquriez slowly picks up whip. Famette rises, throwing off her
      shawl_]

 _Fam._                         Hear me, men!
 For men you are,--not beasts. Your hands are strong
 In ceaseless toil. Day after day you pile
 Your master's wealth more high. Day after day
 You sweat your way a little nearer death,
 That he may kick your bodies from his path
 And set your graves in hennequin. But know
 Who toils may fight! The hand that lifts a spade
 May bear a sword. The strength you give to him,
 Use for yourselves. Your master is one man,
 You are five hundred----

 _Meg._                  Gods! I'll stop your mouth!
 You men there--go--you dozen at the gate--
 Go to the dry-yard--load your backs with fibre--
 And bring it here!
            [_Men go out_]
                   I'll teach you now, you slaves!
 You are five hundred--yes--and I am one,
 But in me is the might of Goldusan!
 The power of Cordiaz is in my whip,
 And back of that is iron Hudibrand!
 Kill me to-night, to-morrow you shall die,
 Each dog of you,--you know it!
      [_Men come in with fibre_]
                               Throw the stuff
 Against the hut. There, pile it up. More, more!
 Now, Coquriez, the gentle, you've refused
 To ruffle your fond dove,--here's sweeter work,
 And for no hand but yours. Put her within,
 Then fire the hut. [_Utter silence_]
                   What terror's on you, beasts?

 _Coq._ In God's name, sir, you dare not!

 _Meg._                                  In the name
 Of all who know how power is kept, I dare!
 Move there, you dog!
      [_Coquriez stands motionless_]
                     Do you refuse again?
 Then ... in your heart. [_Shoots. Coquriez falls dead_]
 Who'll be the next to stand on feet of lead
 When I say "Do?" Gonzalo! Garza! Out!

      [_The men do not move. Megario lifts his pistol_]

 _Fam._ Spare them, Megario. I'll go in.

      [_Enters hut, closing door_]

 _Meg._ [_Trembling_]                   That voice!
 Who is this woman? Speak! Who knows? I've heard....
 Bah! I'm a fool!... Take up that lantern there,
 Gonzalo. Break it on the fibre. Move!

  [_He stands with his weapon drawn. The door of the hut in thrown
      open and Famette appears. She wears a rich robe, gleaming white,
      with blue and gold cabalistic broidery. In her hand is a sceptre,
      on her head a crown with a single star. The men, with cries of
      "Osa! Osa!" fall upon their knees, foreheads to ground, then leap
      up, changed, and glaring. They seem ready to spring upon Megario_]

 _Fam._ Shoot now, Megario! [_Silence_]
                 You dare not do it!
 Kill me,--kill one of them,--shoot till your weapon
 Pants its last murder, and a hundred hands
 Will tear you limb from limb and bone from bone,
 Till every separate shred of you be cast
 To its own devil! Shoot, Megario!
      [_His hand falls. Famette steps into the yard_]
 Where are the masters who can help you now?
 The mighty ones who know how power is kept?
 Look on these men. Their blood sings as it sang
 Through centuries gone,--with courage that was theirs
 Ere ships came up like night on this doomed coast
 Unloading hell!

 _Meg._         Who are you, woman? Who?

 _Fam._ The spirit of these people, absent long,
 But come at last to be their hearts' old fire.
 Four hundred years you've trampled on their bodies,
 But see--look in their eyes--you have not slain
 Their God.

 _Meg._ Your name! Who are you?

 _Fam._                        Riven hills
 May hide the shrine of long unsceptred kings,
 And keep their royal secret year by year.

 _Voices._ Hail, Osa! Osa, queen!

 _Meg._                          What do you want?

 _Fam._ Three things, Megario.

 _Meg._                       What are they?

 _Fam._                                     First,--
 That I may pass from here, free as I came,
 With every soul that will go out with me.

 _Meg._ The way is open. Go.

 _Fam._                     And you with us.
 Far as the coast, where willing transport waits
 To bear us northward. Then you may go free.
      [_Turns to the people_]
 There brothers wait you, men,--there freedom's tongue
 Is beacon fire. The whole of northland sings,
 A canticle of flame. You'll go with me?

 _Mas._ [_Loudly_] We'll follow Osa!

 _Voices._                          Osa! Osa! On!

 _Fam._ Gonzalo, choose you men, a thrifty score,
 To fill the water-jars and get us food
 From the hacienda stores.
            [_Gonzales passes out, men following at his signal_]
                          The third demand,
 Megario, is this. That key you belt
 So close--
      [_Megario claps hand on key_]
           Yes, that,--it must be mine, to unlock
 A dungeon here and free a prisoner
 Whom you for love of torture keep alive.

 _Meg._ No, that's a lie.

 _Fam._                  Deny it to the stars
 That saw you yesternight steal up like crime
 To a dark grating, saw you gloat, and fling
 The crumbs that will not let your victim die,
 Though scarce they give him life.

 _Meg._ [_Gasping_]               A lie!

 _Fam._                                 The key,
 Megario.

 _Meg._ I will not----

 _Fam._               In my hand!
             [_Megario takes key from his belt and hands it to her_]
 I thank thee, God, my hand may turn the key
 That frees Rejan LeVal! Now forward, men!
 O, glorious to be men! Ipparro, walk
 Beside our prisoner. Garza, be his aid.
 Two days of marching, then the friendly sea.
 And if you toil again amid these fields,
 You'll take the fruit. On!

 _Men._                    Osa! To the sea!

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT IV


SCENE: _The Grove of Peace, as in second act. Late afternoon. Two
officers meet as curtain rises._


 _First Off._ So Cordiaz is fallen.

 _Second Off._                     Joggled down
 At last, poor man!

 _First Off._      When all the ghosts he made
 Come back to weep his fall, I'll swell the flood
 With half a tear, no more.

 _Second Off._             Then you're for Vardas?

 _First Off._ By glory, no! He'll open Goldusan
 To every thief that knocks.

 _Second Off._              Trust Hudibrand
 To guard the door. Till he has plucked the goose,--
 Then they may shave it for their part.

 _First Off._                          So, friend?

 _Second Off._ Phut! Goldusan's his box of snuff--held so--
 And as he pleases, tchew!--'tis empty.

 _First Off._                          Come,
 I'll walk your way. [_They move, right_]
                    What of this truce? Goes 't deep?

 _Second Off._ As flattery may plough. It is our croon
 Of compliment to our new-seated king.

 _First Off._ Nay, president. We're a republic now.

 _Second Off._ Spell 't king or president, it means the same.

 _First Off._ But with Bolderez ours, the truce should last.

 _Second Off._ Why, 't may, till night. Bolderez, friend,
 Is not the revolution.

 _First Off._          He's the heft of 't,
 And's made a full surrender.

 _Second Off._               Made his terms!
 His officers are guardians of the State,
 And he--he's stallion of the court, submits
 To curb and comb that he may prouder prance
 And keep the herd at stare. Surrender? Lord!
 I think it!

      [_Enter Third Officer, from left_]

 _Third Off._ What's stirring, friends?

 _Second Off._                         Sleep-walkers.

 _Third Off._                                        Ay,
 This amnesty makes idlers.

 _Second Off._             So to-day,
 But work brews for to-morrow.

 _Third Off._                 You've a secret,
 And I've a guess that picks the lock to 't.

 _Second Off._                              Come!
 These leaves are listeners.

  [_They go off, lower right. Enter by path upper right, Señora Ziralay
      and Guildamour_]

 _Gui._                     To find you here
 Makes my best hope a sluggard, far outgone
 By th' dear event.

 _Señ._            I came five days ago,
 The princess with me, here to wait return
 Of Hudibrand. That you have come with him,
 Makes sober welcome blithe.

 _Gui._                     He's slack in health.

 _Señ._ That's written plain.

 _Gui._                      What iron's in the man
 That he yet lives?

 _Señ._            He's been in conclave?

 _Gui._                                  Yes.
 Five nights he routed sleep from th' drowsy synod,
 And hung upon us turning every flank,
 Till Protest paled and Patience bled at heart.

 _Señ._ And at the end?

 _Gui._                He held our sealèd bonds,
 And Vardas sat secure.

 _Señ._                The bonds? We own
 Our railways now?

 _Gui._           We do. And Hudibrand
 Owns us,--that is, the bonds. A good, stout noose
 For a nation's neck.

 _Señ._              And all these days he's been
 In th' capital?

 _Gui._         In closest session, though
 A stage-fed rumor held that he was gone
 From Goldusan. The harried people fear
 Assarian power, and on the jealous watch,
 Keep Hudibrand in burrow.

 _Señ._                   He's gay-blown
 With confidence. I hear from Ziralay
 He made a careless peace with all the friends
 Of tottering Cordiaz.

 _Gui._               That carelessness
 Was sea-deep cunning. Favors will go high,
 They'll find. Megario gave full half his lands
 For place in th' Cabinet.

 _Señ._                   Megario moved
 In blaze of censure, and did well to escape
 Singed of but half his goods. Two prisoners lost----

 _Gui._ Ah, Chartrien and....

 _Señ._                      Rejan!

 _Gui._                            Be guarded here.
 Fate rustles at that name.

 _Señ._                    O, Guildamour,
 Fear is the silent warder that divides
 Our secret hearts. Give it the tongue of daring,
 And like a blest interpreter 'twill bring
 Our hopes together.

 _Gui._             There is stir within.
 Come from these walls, Señora. And if your hope
 Is on the road with mine, I've news will make
 The wayside sing. Winds gather here and yon
 That may out-swagger even Hudibrand.

  [_They go back along cascade path, as Hudibrand, Diraz, Mazaran, and
      Golifet come out of house_]

 _Gol._ [_Holding up letter_] Nay, fearless majesty might take more note
 Of this despatch.

 _Hud._           That beggar's mewl?

 _Gol._                              There's power
 In every word. LeVal must harbor strength
 We do not know of.

 _Hud._            Tush! That is the vaunt
 Of weakness, not of power.

 _Maz._                    What is 't he says?

 _Gol._ Avers him free of this imposèd truce,
 And gives a fair foe's warning he'll attack
 Whene'er and how he can.

 _Maz._                  Well bragged.

 _Dir._                               His guns,
 No doubt, are cooler than his pen.

 _Maz._                            What more?

 _Gol._ Repudiates Bolderez, and declares
 Himself the head of the Insurrectionists,
 Sole authorized to speak and treat for them.
 My lord, what shall I answer?

 _Hud._                       Answer? Humph!
 Treat with a rag-pole? We'll not sag to that.

      [_Re-enter, right, Señora and Guildamour_]

 _Hud._ My dear Señora, is our freakish daughter
 In hiding from us? We've not had her greeting.

 _Señ._ She knew you close engaged, my lord, and left
 The hour to you. I'll tell her of your pleasure.

 _Hud._ My steps are yours. [_To his companions_]
                                 Each where he would, my friends.
                                             [_Goes in with Señora_]

 _Dir._ I'm for a swim.

 _Gol._                And I.

 _Maz._                      The river? With you!

 _Gol._ [_Leading left_] Bolderez' men are gathering opposite,
 Behind the river woods.

 _Maz._                 The pick of camps.

 _Gol._ They know it too. There's water, and the trees
 Are cool and friendly.

 _Dir._                Was it not resolved
 Bolderez' men should join the Federal Guards?

 _Gol._ They do, in th' main. This is a straggling wing
 Left in the hills, that we have given leave
 To station here.

 _Dir._          That's prudence too.

 _Maz._                              Why so?

 _Dir._ I'm windward of a whisper.

 _Gol._                           About LeVal?

 _Dir._ He's circling in. Let Hudibrand laugh low
 Or the enemy will hear him.

 _Gol._                     This LeVal
 Was dead and buried,--three months out of life,--
 Shook from remembrance as the stalest clutter,--
 Now, save our eyes, he's jumped alive and rides
 Our foremost thought! Enough to send a man
 Back to his marrows. I shall pray to-night.

 _Maz._ A plunge for resolution! That will cool it.

  [_Exeunt lower left. Señora comes out of house and crosses to seat,
      right_]

 _Señ._ 'Tis five o'clock. No sign! But he will come.
 He comes!

 [_Enter Chartrien, lower right. They meet silently and clasp
      hands_]

 _Cha._ My friend! I thought you far from here.
 Safe in the capital. But nothing's strange
 To those who've moved mid miracles. You've seen
 LeVal?

 _Señ._ I have.

 _Cha._        I long to greet him. O,
 Such walking of the dead renews the earth
 And makes it habitable! I have heard
 It was Famette who saved him,--added that
 To array of deeds that must unlaurel all
 The heroines of time.

 _Señ._               There'll be an hour
 To talk of that. Now you must see the princess.

 _Cha._ Hernda is with you? _Here!_

 _Señ._                            And Hudibrand.
 No danger there. He wants you now, and says
 You'll find good grass if you will leap the stile.

 _Cha._ [_Answering her smile_] So blind as that? Poor mole,
                   he's been in th' ground
 Too long. Will never get his eyes.

 _Señ._                            Ay, he'll
 Deny the sun till 't bakes him in his burrow.
 But Hernda,--O, what welcome waits you, friend!
 The ivory-crusted temple, shut and sealed
 To eternal airs, is now a fane of rose,
 Whose cloistral stairs, that wound so futilely,
 Will now through fragrant twilight lead you up
 To windowed Heaven. Come! Come, take your own!

 _Cha._ No! Wait....

 _Señ._             A lover speaks that word?

 _Cha._                                      Señora,----

 _Señ._ That wound she gave you here is open yet?
 But you were wrong, and with your wretched doubts
 Assailed her in the hour she lay on rack
 To save you.

 _Cha._ On rack for me? She gave me up.
 Gave me to him,--Megario,--knowing that
 Meant death.

 _Señ._ And yet you live.

 _Cha._                  I--?

 _Señ._                      Live. Do you not know
 You were to die that night?

 _Cha._                     I've heard.

 _Señ._                                Those hours
 She gained for you meant life.

 _Cha._                        She gained for me?
 I saw his lips on hers.

 _Señ._                 You did. And I--
 I saw her face. The dead are warmer. She
 Could bear that touch for your sake, and on that
 Bore too your curse.

 _Cha._              For me? I'll hear no more,
 Señora.

 _Señ._ You will see her now?

 _Cha._                      Not now,
 Nor ever. I am here by pledge, to meet--
 A friend.

      [_Masio enters lower right_]

 _Señ._ Is this--the man?

 _Cha._                  No, but I know him.
 He's seeking me, I think.

 _Señ._                   I'll leave you then.

 _Cha._ [_Seizing her hands_] Nothing to Hernda!

 _Señ._                             Nothing. You and she
 For what may come. [_Goes in_]

 _Cha._            You, Masio? From Famette?

 _Mas._ No, from the camp.

 _Cha._                   The camp! But she is there?

 _Mas._ That's guessing, sir. There's fernseed on her wings.
 She flits invisible, then bat your eyes
 You see her.

 _Cha._ I've her word she'd meet me here.

 _Mas._ Queer place. You come from Quito?

 _Cha._                                  Yes. 'Twas there
 I had her letter making this strange tryst.
 I've travelled from that hour. Famette has left
 Her name upon the air, and all the way
 I heard it.

 _Mas._ She's the bird of courage, dares
 Go far as our LeVal himself. But here's
 What brought me, sir. [_Gives Chartrien a letter_]
                      'Tis from LeVal.

 _Cha._                               His hand!
 His living hand! [_Reads, pales, and stands silent_]

 _Mas._          Bad, sir?

 _Cha._                   No, good. 'Tis good.

 _Mas._ Then I'll be off. My head's no show variety,
 But I'd not trust it long in th' grove of Peace.
 We'll see you soon in camp?

 _Cha._                     To-night, I hope.
 Famette holds key to that.

 _Mas._                    The first star bring you! [_Exit_]

 _Cha._ [_Reads letter_] _When you see the princess Hernda, kiss for
 me the hand that gave me freedom. It was she unlocked my dungeon and
 nursed my bones to life. What I am is hers, and therefore yours._
 _Le Val._

 Hast grown so spent, O Fortune, that one stroke
 Must deal both death and life?--with hand that parts
 The night, show too my rainbow loss?.... All, all
 My future sold to the gray usurer Grief,
 Who gathers up as sapped and withered leaves
 Time's unimagined buds! No eve, no dawn
 With Hernda! No brief night that makes
 The sun unwelcome as he golds desire,
 The warm mist-flower where we lie its heart!
 Unbrace thee here, my courage! Valiancy,
 First god and last in man, unbuckle here!
 ... How meet Famette? Smile on her smiles? Deceive
 Her love? She'll lay her head upon my heart
 And hear it crying "Hernda!".... Hernda lost!
 I must not dream here open to the risk
 Of her unanswered eyes. Their lure would make
 Dishonor, that on wreck feeds rampant, spring
 Unshamed in me. I would forsake Famette.

  [_Goes right, upper path. Hernda comes from house and crosses rapidly
      to him_]

 _Her._ Chartrien! Come! [_He turns slowly and meets her_]
                        You take my hand, here where
 You wished me dead?

 _Cha._             That you have offered it
 Proves me forgiven.

 _Her._             _You_ forgiven? Ah,
 Has my atonement swollen above my fault
 Till I may nod a pardon where I thought
 To kneel for one?

 _Cha._           LeVal has written me. [_Kisses her hand_]
 This kiss is his salute, and that 'tis his,
 Not mine, makes my lips bold to leave it here.

 _Her._ Forgiven! Dawn is on my sky, that hung
 Unutterably black! Yes, it is true
 I saved LeVal. From Fate's own arms I snatched
 My treachery's sequence, though his meantime pain
 Is ever writ against me. Yet I too
 Knew misery that might be mate of his.
 And for that other wrong--here where we stand----

 _Cha._ My wrong to you! Nay, don't forgive me that.
 Leave me a wound to keep me ever paying
 The debt of pain that solely eases guilt.

 _Her._ I had to choose,--Oh, agony of choice!--
 Between your death as certain as the night
 And your surrender to Megario,
 That seemed but death postponed, yet held a hope
 Worth any hazard. That you live is proof
 My choice was God's. My reasonless despair
 Held Heaven's sanity. Ah, that you live
 Is substance of reward, joy's permanent
 Sweet soil, but there's a flower to spring from that,
 A nodding ecstasy that I may pluck
 For my own bosom,--is there not?

 _Cha._                          Don't--don't----

 _Her._ You turn away? You've still a doubt of me?
 Then modesty may save her frigid self.
 I'll speak for love, the one best thing this side
 Of Heaven. You've taken my hand, and now my heart,
 And all myself would follow it. My heart,
 My body, and my risen soul. Yes, risen!
 My past of clay is quickened with a breath
 That waits not death to know itself immortal,
 And this is all my pride, that by that breath
 I'm rich enough to give myself to you.
      [_She waits for him to speak. He makes no answer_]
 I am rejected, having but my shame
 To cover naked love. Yet vanity
 Finds me this scanted shroud. Seeing you here,
 My hunger guessed at yours. I felt you came
 To seek me, else my heart, timid with fault,
 Had kept its silence, though my tongue had given
 As now a friend's good welcome.

 _Cha._                         I have come,
 But not to you.

 _Her._         For why then? I've an ear
 Of caution. Let my veins, at too swift flood,
 Grow slow as prudence in what work you will.
 Now that our aims are near as once our hearts,
 You'll let me help? I swear by both our souls,
 And yours the dearer one, that our desires
 Are one bent bow, and if our arrows speed
 They'll kiss at the same mark.

 _Cha._                        I'm fathoms deep,
 But in a sea as sweet as ever closed
 O'er drowned felicity!

 _Her._                Why are you here?

 _Cha._ To keep an oath!--that kept is our division,
 Yet forfeited would so untreasure me
 That being's god would blush dishallowed way
 Quite out such husk of man!

 _Her._                     An oath?

 _Cha._                             Oh, first
 In made self-curses I'll unload some part
 Of this stuffed loathing for the wretch I am!

 _Her._ Nay, I'll not listen.

 _Cha._                      Star that was a maiden,
 Do not believe I loved you when my days
 Ran tribute at your feet,----

 _Her._                       Say anything
 But that. Those days were mine, and true.

 _Cha._                                   False, false!
 For love is generous as the heart of bounty,
 Giving defect perfection. Narrowed hours,
 Beseamed and flawed, take from its seer-lit eyes
 The unstinted, dear proportion secret yet
 In Time's full dream.

 _Her._               'Twas I who failed----

 _Cha._                                     Not you!
 That midnight moment held the dawn of this,
 All this that now you are, and love had seen
 The folded glory of yourself had love
 Been there to see. But I cast dust upon
 Your sleeping wings, and did not know your heart
 Till wounds had laid it bare.

 _Her._                       How could you know
 More than its native bosom where it dwelt
 Strange and unguessed?

 _Cha._                If I had loved,
 Such soul of fragrance had not hid from me
 This unbound blossoming.

 _Her._                  We must forget
 Love's morning miracles forever missed.
 His fair, warm day is left us,--sunset's gold,
 And evening with the stars. That is enough
 For me and you----

 _Cha._            My pledge! I'm here to meet
 Famette!

 _Her._ Famette! I know her.

 _Cha._                     Know her! You?

 _Her._ And know she loves. Then it is you she waits?

 _Cha._ She saved my life. But that unvalued thing
 Is debt's mere rubble. 'Tis her love makes up
 The sum unpaid and out of reckoning.
 And I--how can I tell you?

 _Her._                    If you loved,
 Look up. No shame can be where love has been.

 _Cha._ I've no defence,--yet say that you were lost
 In midmost desert sands, and suddenly
 A flower at your feet breathed of the woods
 And darkling velvet shade where rest might be....

 _Her._ But that's a miracle.

 _Cha._                      So was her love
 To me. Or say that flam and falsity
 Ensnarled your every way till no true thing
 Seemed left on earth, and then in lifted flash
 Truth's priestess eyes looked from a human face
 And you were loved,--what startled warmth would say
 Your heart yet lived? Would you keep back your life
 In barren hug? Deny its sunless gray
 To gentle eyes that asked but leave to lay
 Their radiance there?

 _Her._ I understand. She gave,
 And I demanded. So the gods decree
 Her boughs shall bloom and mine go bare.

 _Cha._                                  Oh, Heaven!

 _Her._ You love her, Chartrien?

 _Cha._                         Silence be on that.

 _Her._ I'll know it,--hear you say it. Is your heart
 Mine, or Famette's?

 _Cha._ My life is hers.

 _Her._                 Your heart!

 _Cha._ Is yours.

 _Her._          Ah! Then--I give you to Famette.

  [_He kneels to kiss her hand. Hudibrand appears in door of house,
      left. Smiles, and crosses to them_]

 _Hud._ Up to her lip, you rogue! A humble suitor
 Gets humble favors.

 _Cha._ [_Rising_] You, my lord?

 _Hud._                         Your hand,
 My boy.

 _Cha._ It was my head you wanted, sir,
 When last we met.

 _Hud._           Not so. I meant to save you,
 But Hernda spiked my train. To have you die
 Quite safely in a rumor was the sum
 Of my intent against you.

 _Cha._                   You're not well,
 My lord?

 _Hud._ Most well!

 _Her._           He's lost some sleep.

 _Hud._                                Tut, tut!

 _Cha._ You stay full long in Goldusan. I thought
 You nearer home.

 _Hud._          I'm cruising in the gulf,
 By th' morning papers,--the _reliable_ ones.
 The gutter rags have guessed me,--but no matter.
 I've seen the play through, and I go to-morrow.
 Pouf! It has been a game!

 _Cha._                   You speak as 'twere
 At end.

 _Hud._ It ends to-day. [_Looks at watch_]
                       'Tis just the hour.
 Now Vardas is proclaimed the president
 Of a liberated people.

 _Cha._                What of that?

 _Hud._ He's bowing now. "I thank you, gracious friends,
 Most loyal citizens----"

 _Cha._                  What's that to do
 With freedom's war?

 _Hud._             It merely ends it.

 _Cha._                               What?
 You think we fought for that? A change of caps
 Upon two brigands' heads?

 _Hud._                   Tut, you've won more.
 You with some justice warred on Cordiaz,
 But Vardas is of heart so liberal
 His people shall be rich in privileges
 As many and as fair as in Assaria.
 Myself will vouch it.

 _Cha._               I will vouch it too.
 As many pits fed with the souls of men,
 As many images of God deformed
 In lawless fray to hold the peaks of greed
 And at the top sit on their goblin gold
 Content with bestial purr, who might have touched
 The heavens with song.

 _Hud._                Is that for me, my boy?

 _Cha._ As many lives tramped out in hunger's scramble,
 As many factories where driven wives
 Forget the altar dream of babes and home.
 As many sweating traps where flames may feed
 On flesh of maidens, leaving still, charred bones
 Whose only fortune is to ache no more.
 As many brazen mills that noise their thrift
 Above the ceaseless shuttle of small feet,
 While you, the great arch-master, think none hears
 That drownèd pattering. As many marts
 Where, in law's shadow, girl-eyed slaves are sold
 To blows and lust. As many cripples thrown
 Upon the dump-heap of a soulless Peace,
 Each season piled to moaning wreck more high
 Than ever War made in its darkest year.
 As many holes where life must lie with death
 For privilege of sleep. Oh, I could give
 Black instances till yonder sun be set
 Nor end your loathsome list!

 _Hud._                      A rare, hot sermon,
 But I'm not Providence, that from my hand
 Must pour unfailing bounty.

 _Cha._                     Humble, sir?
 I thought you claimed a power that gave the world
 The shape you chose.

 _Hud._              But I must use the stuff
 I find here. That I can't remake or change.
 So must my world show flaws and ugly spots
 Due to its substance, not to my good pattern.

 _Cha._ That stuff, sir, is the same that lifted us
 From four feet up to two! The elements
 That played like death upon it but aroused
 Their conqueror. In the embrace of winds
 It made us ships and gave us wings. From dust,
 The very dust that choked it, grew the dream
 That lifts it deathless, an eternized God.
 And surely as your grip makes it a slave,
 You teach it freedom. In your clutch 'twill find
 Once more the need creative, and upswell
 With power that shall leave you by the way
 As heaving seas leave straws upon the sand.
 You shall be _nothing_. As a dream that dies
 With waking--lost so utterly
 The sleeper knows not that it was--so you
 Shall be a vanished thing that man born free
 Can not reclothe in guess!

 _Hud._                    Peonia's sun
 Has touched your wits. You still think of revolt?

 _Cha._ I think of victory.

 _Hud._                    Your comedy
 Is past its hour. Come, Chartrien, give it up.
 Confess the war is done.

 _Cha._                  Bolderez' guns
 Will make confession of another sort.

 _Hud._ O, ho! I see a light. You have not heard
 The morning news. Bolderez has come in.

 _Cha._ Come in? Your couriers flatter you. He holds
 The heights of Gila with five thousand men.

 _Hud._ That's yesterday. To-day those brave five thousand
 Are soldiers of united Goldusan.
 Bolderez is adviser to the State,
 A tinker in high place, who solders fast
 The civic split----

 _Cha._ You dream! This is not true!

 _Her._ Yes, Chartrien, it is true. We've lost Bolderez.

 _Cha._ He--has--deserted?

 _Hud._                   No, he proves him loyal
 To me, his master.

 _Cha._            You?

 _Hud._                He served me always.
 You fool, this was _my_ revolution.

 _Cha._                             Yours?

 _Hud._ Bolderez led my troops. It was for me
 You fed his bony beggars. Ha! For me
 You stuffed their hungry pockets with your gold!
 I loosed your fortune when I know 'twould save
 My own a gouge. But I've not dodged the score.
 Those guns and horses for the Gazza scare
 Cost me some paper----

 _Cha._                You? My God! _Your_ war?

 _Hud._ I knew the storm would sweep out Cordiaz,
 So strode its back that I might hold the bit
 When came my hour. My boy, you fought for _me_.
 I made you do it--I, whom you have said
 Shall be as nothing. Where's the mighty sea
 Shall toss me as a straw----

 _Her._                      O, father, peace!
 You see he dies!

 _Hud._          Don't waste your tears. He'll live.
 I've made good oxen out of wilder bulls.

 _Her._ He cannot live! The pain of it, the pain!
 When aspirations have returned as wounds,
 Then even the soul must die!

 _Hud._                      They all get up.
 Stout workers too,--quiet, serviceable,
 Pestered no more with dreams. Here, give him this. [_Offers a flask_]

 _Cha._ [_Rousing, pushing flask aside_] Ay, no more dreams.
      [_Springs up_] But action! Keep Bolderez.
 We have LeVal, whose undiscouraged heart
 Bears on its tide the conquering desire
 Of twenty thousand men!

 _Hud._                 Humph! Where are these
 Invisible veterans?

 _Cha._             Some gather now
 About his banner,--some wait in the hills
 Till they are sure it is his voice that calls,--
 Some in your favor wrapped go to and fro
 In your own camp, feeding a fire your gold
 Can never light,--some dream till we have oped
 Their prison doors,--in every part and corner
 Of Goldusan, there's courage on the leap
 To reach his side.

 _Hud._            What dribble!

 _Cha._                         Rein this storm?
 No human hand, nor Heaven's now, may leash it.
 It is the throe when travailing Life is shaken
 In absolute birth that makes undreamèd news
 Even in the ear of God.

 _Hud._                 Fanatic! Fool!
 Have I not tried to teach you----

 _Cha._                           Teach yourself!

 _Hud._ Come, come!

 _Cha._            I mean the words. The race has learned
 Its lesson while you've played with sand. At last
 The dumb, trod way has spoken 'neath man's feet,
 And by that word uncovered he has learned
 What he shall _not_ be,--knows what heights of sun
 Are his, and seeing takes his road,--no more
 Battering in wild and bruisèd ignorance
 A destiny of stone. Ay, consciousness
 Has wakened in itself the unknown god
 That gives the race its eyes. You, you a king?
 Who do not know that every man is heir
 To kingship that must leave such thrones as yours
 Outcoursed and little recked as the strewn toys
 Of childhood!

 _Hud._ Mud-sill dynasties. You know
 That I am master.

 _Cha._           Master? You believe
 That man, at top of conquest, who has made
 Nature his weariless serf, and set the yoke
 From his own neck on her divinities,
 Will seal to you--weak, myriadth part of him--
 Those wizard captives bending to the dream
 Of his new world? Gird you with fortune that
 He wrenched from stony ages?--let you gorge
 The magic fruit snatched by his perilled being
 In starward battle up the abysmal steep?

 _Hud._ I am a fact,--not words.

 _Cha._                         You can believe it?
 At last on dawn-browed heights, with victor foot
 On mysteries bound the genii of his wish,
 He'll trail his hopes to kennel? Let you pluck
 His universe unflowered, and shrink life
 To growling brevity 'tween lash and bone?
 A slave to _you_? Obstructive clod,
 Who could not stir with one life-budding dream
 Though holy imagination tipped with fire
 Should score her script upon you!

  [_A physical pain overcomes Hudibrand. Hernda runs to his side. He
      regains composure, his manner forbidding solicitude_]

 _Hud._                           I am patient.
 One word of mine would send you manacled
 To prison. If you are here to lay down arms----

 _Cha._ I'm not.

 _Her._         O, father! The amnesty!

 _Hud._                                That shelter
 Is not for him!

 _Cha._ Then speak your word, and learn
 You fight not men but man. Wide as the world
 His spirit blows against you, and little part
 You'll cage in this one shackled body.

 _Hud._                                One?
 We'll drag the earth, or net the pack of you!
 LeVal, marauding ghost, we'll prick his blood
 Beneath his spectral mask. And that mad trull,
 Famette, your holy maid----

 _Cha._                     She's safe from you!
 God is about her as she walks among
 Your hope-lorn slaves and touches their dead hearts
 To life.

 _Hud._ To folly they are sick of! Ah,
 Once more I've news. Your swarthy Joan has fled,
 And all her magic warriors of a day
 Again are beggars.

 _Cha._            Fled?

 _Hud._                 To her cactus lair.
 But she'll trapse back between two bayonets,
 Stripped of her phantom wings.

 _Cha._                        She is not gone.
 That heart of truth! When she deserts LeVal
 There'll be a breach in Heaven, and fiends may claim
 The day for hell and you.

 _Hud._                   'Tis mine without
 Such warm avouch. Your chaparral cock and hen
 Have parted company. Her followers now,
 Cursing and naked, straggle to our camps----

 _Her._ Your pardon, sir! You are deceived.

 _Hud._                                    Ho, ho!

 _Her._ They're with LeVal. Not one stout heart is lost.
 Famette but lends her captaincy to his
 In needful absence----

 _Hud._                You are much too wise.

 _Her._ I know Famette.

 _Hud._                You--what? Know _her_?

 _Her._                                      I do.

 _Hud._ This is the fruit of that mad jaunt,
 Through Goldusan! Where have you seen her?

 _Her._                                    Here.

 _Hud._ Not here? That woman? Are you mad, my girl?

 _Her._ I love Famette. If we were one, I'd be
 But cinders in her saintly fire.

 _Hud._                          Here, miss?
 You've had her with you? Sniffed and cheeped together,
 And drowned my kingdom in a gossip cup?

 _Her._ If men, the bravest, are but flies upon
 Your monarch ermine, that with careless shake
 You scatter, can you fear a woman?

 _Hud._                            What?
 Mocked by a chit? I fear? You mannerless filly,
 I've let you plunge and ramp o'er all my fields,
 But I'll not have you whinnying at the fence
 Till roadside jades break through! She has been _here_?

 _Her._ She has. Dined at my board, slept in my bed,
 And so shall do again.

 _Hud._                I'll welcome her!
 And send you trucking home! You shall not wait
 For any whimsy this or that!

 _Her._                      But, sir,----

 _Hud._ No trumpery packing,--no unready whine!
 This hour! That you should moil your royalty
 Touching such scum!

 _Her._ Nay, I was scum until she gave me substance.
 I had no soul until she made hers mine,
 No cleanliness of heart till I knew hers,
 No knowledge till I looked through her clear eyes,
 No riches till I wrapped me in her rags----

 _Hud._ You're raving!

 _Her._               No. Ah, father, father, I'm
 Famette,--your daughter! I've not been in Cana,
 But in the pits your greed has dug,--down, down
 Where misery is so vile its own abyss
 Shudders to hold it. Chartrien, now you know
 My tale untold. I see your mind runs back
 To light a way it travelled in the dark.
 O, you were blind! I'd know you near though masked
 In utter change.

 _Cha._ I'm folded now in sun
 That makes me blind again. Are you Famette?

 _Her._ [_Showing her bared arm_] See this brown circlet
                   left that you might find
 A trace of her? I've crossed the universe----
 Through hell--and reached you, have I not?

 _Cha._ [_Embracing her_]                  All sweet
 Forfending stars now heap their fortunes one
 And drop it on my heart that borrows heaven
 To hold the imponderable gift!

 _Her._                        Ah, poor Famette!

 _Cha._'Twas you--in that foul hacienda pen?
 And would not speak?

 _Her._              I meant to save you, sir.
 And had I told you then, would you have set
 So blithely off to Quito?

 _Cha._                   And left you there!
 How can you think it?

 _Her._               Do I, sir? Nay, love,
 Nor ever did. I knew you'd ruin all
 With your big "won'ts" and "don'ts."

 _Cha._                              O, sagest heart!
 But here you kept my joy-gates shut so long.
 Why such slow mercy, golden one?

 _Her._                          You'll hear it?
 There is a teasing devil in me, Chartrien,
 That must have play.

 _Cha._              Ah, no!

 _Her._                     Ay, and an ounce
 Or so of cruelty, that would not let
 Your frailty go unpinched.

 _Cha._                    Nay, 'tis not so!

 _Her._ You'd rather think I put to royal test
 Your godship? Wooed with lips so near your own,
 And found you stanch to honor? That may be,
 But I've a shameless reason dearer still.
 I wanted all your love for Hernda,--all.
 And had I said too soon that we were one,
 Then on your breast my heart had never known
 Which maid you clasped.

 _Cha._                 You ever, sweet!

 _Her._                                 Yet she
 Is dear. My joy could never be content
 Within your heart beside unfaith to her.
 She must have room there, not in name of love,
 But truth. So you shall hold us both.

 _Cha._                               Like this?
 Grow to my heart, O garland of myself!
 Be breath of me, till, like a double tree,
 Root, sap, and bloom are one,
 And in our noble fruiting Time forgets
 To mourn Hesperides!

 _Her._              Heaven hold thy wish
 The prayer thou meanest it!

 _Cha._                     One bliss is man's
 The perfect angels know not. In the arms,
 Warm, rhythmic, round his battling soul, to feel
 Spur of his noblest blood, and know his dreams
 Are mated,--find in lightest winds that stir
 Love's tremulous hair, the brave wing of his hope
 That needs go farthest,--and when seasons fail,
 And weary spirit turns from waste to waste,
 Know lips that he may touch and touching kiss
 The fallow world to harvest. Thus, and thus!

  [_Hudibrand, forgotten by the lovers, has fought through another moment
      of agony, and advances, taking hold of Hernda_]

 _Hud._ Are you my daughter?

 _Her._                     I am, but I've known hours
 When shame, a cleansing fire, searched through my blood
 For any drop that owned you father.

 _Hud._                             In!
 Go in! [_To Chartrien_] And you--I'll rid the earth of you,
 And take its thanks! [_Staggers with a return of pain_]

 _Her._ [_Her arms about him_] O, father, let us help!
 What is it, father?

 _Hud._ Nothing. Keep away!
 Away!

      [_Throws her off. Enter, lower right, an officer attended_]

 _Off._ Your majesty, there's sure report
 LeVal makes ready to oppose his guns
 To our weak garrison.

 _Hud._ [_Ironic_] The spectre's near?

 _Off._ Across the stream,--the east and wooded bank.
 A hundred times our force could not dislodge
 His guns from such a vantage.

 _Hud._                       Guns? LeVal?
 He has no guns!

 _Off._         You'll hear them soon. I beg
 Your highness' pardon, but your dignity
 Would not be touched if you should hasten out.

      [_Enter, lower left, Golifet, Diraz, Mazaran_]

 _Gol._ My lord!

 _Hud._ What is this tale? You, Golifet?
 You are in charge!

 _Gol._            'Tis treachery, sir! I warned
 Your majesty----

 _Hud._          Come, what's the story?

 _Gol._                                 This.
 Bolderez' officers whom we gave leave
 To station near us, thus to put more guard
 Between the town and rebels that might creep
 Down from the hostile hills----

 _Hud._                         This egg's all shell.
 Come, sir, the meat!

 _Gol._              They were in secret yoked
 Most traitorously with LeVal, and all their men
 Were coupled to his cause. They gave him cover
 To lead his army up----

 _Hud._                 His army, sir?

 _Gol._ His followers----

 _Hud._                  There may be treachery
 Uncapped among us.

 _Gol._            'Twas by your advice
 We gave them leave to camp----

 _Hud._                        I trusted fools!
 Or traitors! You've a choice of names.

 _Off._                                I beg
 Your majesty to come with us. They'll fire
 At any moment.

 _Hud._        Fire? Then we shall know
 At last where we may find LeVal. You've wired
 To Vardas, Golifet? He must despatch
 The Federal Guards----

 _Gol._                It is too late.

 _Hud._                               Too late?

 _Maz._ We can not save the town.

 _Off._                          The citizens
 Are fleeing. Do not delay, your majesty!

      [_Fire of guns is heard_]

 _Hud._ Cowards! Before you fly, arrest that man.
 Look to it, Golifet. You'll answer for him.
 Let him be trebly guarded.

 _Gol._                    Is not this
 The missing lord, Prince Chartrien?

 _Hud._                             Ay, that traitor!

 _Gol._ At this hot juncture, prudence must forbid
 A needless insult to the enemy
 That may too soon be master.

 _Hud._                      Insult!

 _Gol._                             Come,
 My lord.

 _Hud._ By every god that was or is----

      [_Guns again heard_]

 _Gol._ Please you, retire, your majesty!

  [_Men gather excitedly from different parts of the grove. Guests and
      servants desert the house_]

 _Maz._ Come, come!

  [_A shell breaches the wall, rear. Stones fly among the trees. The
      house is battered and portico torn away_]

 _Hud._ Grant me this favor. Let me be the last
 To leave the Grove of Peace. Ha, ha! The last!

 _Her._ Come, father!

 _Hud._              Go! I've asked a favor, friends.

  [_They turn from him and pass slowly out. Hernda and Chartrien
      remain_]

 _Her._ Now you will come?

 _Hud._                   When _you_ have gone! Go, go!

      [_More shells. Chartrien carries Hernda away, lower left_]

 _Hud._ [_Alone, racked with pain_] My foe is nearer than those
                   feeble guns.
 Bah! I could crush them! Here I am fordone.
 No, no! I'll not surrender. I will live!
 I'll keep my world. I fought for it, and won.
 'Tis mine! I will not leave it to these mice
 To scramble over. [_The agony seizes him_]
                  A coward foe, that gives
 No even chance. Strikes from the dark, with blade
 Tempered secure in undiscovered fire.
 ... Shall then the world go on and I not here?
 I shall be here,--a pile of dust, no more,----
 That is the hell of hells,--while other dead,
 Who made them souls here out of faith and clay,
 Race on unflagging,--on and leave me still,--
 The everlasting mute!... Souls? That's a lie.
 A ranting, tom-tom lie, to ease us on
 The wheel. I'll none of that. The sick mind's pap!
 Imagination's vent, lest misery
 O'er-rack the world! Protective fume
 Enclouding man's last grapple till none see
 If he or Death be victor, and on the doubt
 He rides to Heaven!...
 ... Was 't truth that Chartrien spoke?
 The race has found its eyes? Man is no more
 A blind and hopeless struggler cornered fast
 By ills unconquerable?--his lusting wars,
 Diseases, hungers, Hudibrands? Then what
 A chance was there, my heart? If I had fought
 Upon his side!... _That_ battle would have made
 Red Fate throw down her bludgeon,--won us place
 To vanward of the gods!... If I had fought
 With him.... Obstructive clod!... My God! _My_ God?

  [_He dies. Sunset has passed, and the darkness grows rapidly
      until nothing is seen but the gleam of a fallen crown.
      Curtain_]


       *       *       *       *       *




A SON OF HERMES

A COMEDY IN FIVE ACTS




_CHARACTERS_


 BIADES, _a young Athenian_
 PELAGON, _his uncle_
 SACHINESSA, _wife of Pelagon_
 PHANIA, _their daughter_
 SYBARIS, _a neighbor's daughter_
 CREON, _friend of Biades_
 AMENTOR, _a senator_
 MENAS, _friend of Pelagon_
 CLEARCHUS, _an Athenian youth disguised as a dancer_
 PHILON, _a priest_
 STESILAUS, _a lord of Sparta_
 PYRRHA, _his daughter_
 ARCHIPPE, _his wife_
 ALCANOR, _his son_
 LYSANDER, _friend of Stesilaus_
 HIERON, _a young Spartan_
 AGIS, LENON, GIRARDAS, _his friends_
 DIANESSA, MYRTA, THEONIS, NACIA, ARTANTE, _Spartan maidens_
 THE EPHORS
 _Senators, citizens, soldiers, dancers, etc._




ACT I


SCENE: _Pelagon's garden, Athens. Wall, rear, shutting off street.
Upper right, path to street gate. Upper and middle left, entrances to
Pelagon's house. Lower left, path to a neighbor's dwelling. Lower right,
path leading deeper into garden._


      [_Enter, upper left, Pelagon, Stesilaus and Lysander_]

 _Lys._ A gracious senate! If such welcome keys
 The tune to come, then our ambassadry
 Is concord's instrument, and we may bear
 Fair music back to Sparta.

 _Ste._                    Tut, the smiles
 Of Athens are as flying leaves, divorced
 From the tree's heart, as apt to light
 On vagrancy as merit.

 _Pel._               Stesilaus
 Bears hard as truth. Yet I was warmed to note
 The council's greeting.

 _Ste._                 Ever Sparta's friend!

 _Pel._ And friend of peace. The age no more can bear
 The locked alarum of our rivalling States.
 We must the groaning tussle bring to end,
 Or ends the world.

 _Lys._            'Twas wisdom's cue you gave us,--
 To say we had our Sparta's sovereign word
 For Athens' terms.

 _Pel._            Ay, hold your embassage
 Unstrictured, friends. In that lies flattery
 Each lord will take to himself and thereon feed
 A grace which will, in sort, come back to you.
 What hour was fixed for answer? I lost that.

 _Lys._ The last hour of the sun.

 _Pel._                          The crier stood
 Wrong side of my good ear, and I'll not twist
 To set the gossips nudging me to th' grave,
 Robbed in a shrug of twenty grizzled years.
                                          [_Looks about the garden_]
 Where's Biades? He's always trailing here,
 Save in the tick of need. I'd have him bid
 The ambassadors lie at my house. Lysander,
 You'll be my suitor to your comrades? Say
 We've heart and room for all.

 _Lys._                       For all, my lord?

 _Pel._ And more!

      [_Exit Lysander_]

 _Ste._          My Sparta thanks you, Pelagon.

 _Pel._ Nay, such an honor shall not pass me, sir.
 Now where is Biades?

 _Ste._              Your nephew, friend?

 _Pel._ Ay, Stesilaus. Bar my blood in him,
 He'll fasten on your heart.

 _Ste._                     Report has been
 Too dear his friend. What buzz about a youth
 Of twenty-five! Sir, Attica is mad
 To give him captainship. In Sparta now,
 The spurring callant would be kept in ranks,
 And yoked with Prudence till he learned her jog.

 _Pel._ In ranks! I see him! Well, just in your ear,
 He sweeps a pretty curvet. With my wife
 His slave, and Phania neck-deep in love,
 He rides the very comb of my poor house.
 If you would say to him, hold here or there,
 I'd take it not amiss. But I do love him.
 And now a bout with th' cook. The pest sends word
 A double score of sudden guests are all
 He'll have at table. Mine own table, sir!
 Ha, there is Biades! He'll wait upon you.
 Pray touch him as I've hinted. But no word
 About our daughters, friend. We'll let that lie.

      [_Exit upper left. Enter Biades upper right_]

 _Bia._ Most noble Stesilaus, my heart greets you!

 _Ste._ Greeting to Biades, whom Athens makes
 Her general!

 _Bia._ Would, my lord, this dignity
 Were laid on senior years. Your Sparta's way
 Is best,--to keep the cool, meridian bays
 From youth-flushed brows. My moist and charmèd eyes
 Spoke inward to my soul when they beheld
 The ambassadors before the council, each
 With staff unneeded, and gray locks that seemed
 As wisdom's holy place.

 _Ste._                 You sat with us?
 I did not mark you there.

 _Bia._                   I kept in modest shadow,
 Which is youth's fairest mantle,--though my rank
 Moves back for none. But, sir, the Spartan elders!
 Ah, might I see more men in Athens who
 Thus honor age, and age that honors men!

 _Ste._ Breathe that into your shrines.

 _Bia._                                The gods who smile
 On folly young, must weep when reverend years
 And wisdom part. Mayhap you've noticed, sir,
 In my good uncle here ... a falling off.
 I would not speak but that I know your eyes
 Can not keep curtain when the blabbing sun
 Makes it no secret.

 _Ste._             Somewhat I have seen.

 _Bia._ Somewhat will grow to much ere you take leave.

 _Ste._ I fear it, Biades.

 _Bia._                   And yet, my lord,
 Time has not carried him ahead of you
 More years than half a score.

 _Ste._                       Tis t'other way.
 I'm elder by that much.

 _Bia._                 Not you, my lord? [_Muses flatteringly_]
 The Spartan way is best. Was 't Pelagon
 Led you to say you had full power to treat
 With Athens?

 _Ste._ It was he.

 _Bia._           I thought it. [_Sighs_] Sir,
 In the Athenian mind there dwells a child
 No length of days can age. We do not grow
 As Spartans. But our vanity's no dwarf.
 Tops with the highest, you've some cause to know.

 _Ste._ What of 't? Unlatch! unlatch!

 _Bia._                              The people, sir,
 Always our rearward urge, knowing you've power
 To assent to all they ask, will ask for more
 Than all.

 _Ste._ Think'st that?

 _Bia._               In your brave time you've met
 Athenians of the best. Didst ever know
 One modest?--slow to ask for what he thought
 His own?--or what he might by mere demand
 Make his?

 _Ste._ They are well stomached,--true. No doubt
 They'll press us far.

 _Bia._               They will. And if refused,--
 Well, they are children,--and must bite and scratch.
 With strutting rage, may pelt you out of Athens.
 But why not say you are in part empowered.
 And must return to Sparta with the terms
 Before a vowed conclusion?

 _Ste._                    Late for that,
 Young sir. The tongue we used to the Council
 Must serve in the Assembly. We have said
 We have full power.

 _Bia._             To treat, not to assent.
 That was your word.

 _Ste._             Hmm! Now the cloud is off
 The dunce's script, and I read clear why you
 At twenty-five have Athens' voice to sail
 'Gainst Syracuse.

      [_Re-enter Pelagon_]

 _Bia._ No word unto my uncle!

 _Ste._ My brain will serve.

 _Pel._                     They've come,--your comrades,--all!
 If honor now were substance, my poor walls
 Would groaningly unroof and beg the sky
 For room to embrace it! Go you, Biades.
 Repeat my welcome, with increase of grace
 Your tongue is rich in.
      [_Exit Biades, upper left_]
                        Now the full time comes.
 We'll speak of that that's centre of our hearts,--
 Our daughters, friend. This is the hour that ends
 A watch of twenty years.

 _Ste._                  A patient score.
 So long your daughter has been mine, so long
 Has mine been yours.

 _Pel._              Like flower upon a stalk
 Long nursed and tended, comes the end upon
 This day of budding peace. You've had no whiff,
 No hint untoward, that what we did had best
 Been left undone?

 _Ste._           Sir, what I do, I do!
 When we changed babes not past their cradle sleep,
 My mind then glossed the act with comment fair
 As our unfructured hope. So does it still.
 By Nestor, though I'm thitherward of prime,
 There's none will say that with accreted years
 I moult sagacity!

 _Pel._           Eh, so! 'Twas well.
 I've never doubted it. Here have I reared
 Your Phania, Spartan-thewed, who now shall home
 With Athens' gentle nurture in her veins
 To hither yearn in blood of every son
 She bears to Sparta. And you my Pyrrha bring
 Back to her land to live a Spartan dame
 Among Athenian mothers. So we feed
 The unity we dream on,--quicken time,
 Foresued, to give our tousing, touchy States
 One civic heart.

 _Ste._          Has Sachinessa kept
 A secret tongue?

 _Pel._          A nut not closer sits
 About its kernel. And your wife, my friend?
 What of Archippe? Did she hold for long
 Against the exchange?

 _Ste._               She did. Nor ever learned
 To love your Pyrrha. For that cause,--and that
 Our even trust might move with even faith,
 Nor odds of grace to you,--I've stood her guard,
 And made her comrade where a son might claim
 The dearest post.

 _Pel._           Good thanks, my Stesilaus.
 From your wife's audit I'd not brush a doit,
 But to the credit of my dame can set
 A fairer sum. Æneas' curlèd lad
 Lay not more dearly in his Dido's lap
 Than your sweet Phania in the swaddling love
 Of Sachinessa. Ay, she'll swear me now
 That not to gain her own will she give up
 Her foster darling.

 _Ste._             Humph!

 _Pel._                   The little duck!
 She has so chucked herself into my heart
 'Twill put me sad about to oust her.

 _Ste._                              Duck!
 When I lose Pyrrha, sir, that hour I lose
 This good right arm!

 _Pel._ [_Meditative_] Hmm! So!... Come, my friend.
 The dinner's toward, and the host astray.
 The love's deep-vouched that puts such duty off
 For one more word. [_Pauses as they move left_]
                   We'll give no open voice
 To our most dear concern till we have met
 Our daughters.

 _Ste._ [_Gloomy_] Met our daughters! Have it so.

      [_Exeunt upper left. Enter, middle left, Phania and Biades_]

 _Bia._ Come, Phania! The old cocks are off.

 _Pha._                                     They're gone?

 _Bia._ Good flitting too! I feared they'd perch till night,
 Crowing the deeds of Stesilaus the Great
 And Pelagon the Wise.

 _Pha._               These Spartans! If
 They'd rest their clubs without the door, our shins
 Would give them thanks. Why are we so besieged?

 _Bia._ Why, Phania, why? Because your father dotes
 On dull and sodden peace that never was
 Save in an old man's dream. We dine our foes!
 The city must throw ope her gates, forsooth,
 Lest the dear enemy should take some hurt
 Scaling the walls! They'd bleed us as we sleep,
 And Pelagon would vow the sword at 's throat
 Were Sachinessa's dozing kiss.

 _Pha._                        Ho, hear
 The captain speak! You go to Syracuse,
 And not content? 'Tis well there's one cries peace.

 _Bia._ What's Syracuse? To conquer Sparta,--that
 Were warrior's work! Your father robs me of it,
 Bringing the water where I set my fires.
 But come! I've not made love to a soul to-day
 Save ancient Sparta. Ha! it is an art
 That should be spared such sweat. The Heavens mean
 That I shall pull to yoke these two days left,
 And love take beggar's chance.

 _Pha._                        Ah, but two days!

 _Bia._ Come to our myrtle nook----

 _Pha._                            Nay, Sybaris
 Might turn me out. That is her royal seat
 When you'll play consort.

 _Bia._                   What, my Phania? Dour?
 Does Creon keep away?

 _Pha._               I'm not for him.
 You know it, Biades.

 _Bia._              But he does not.
 Too oft I find him here.

 _Pha._                  And Sybaris
 Comes out of count, knowing you like this spot.
 Yon path is worn of every blade.

 _Bia._                          Her feet
 Can be so cruel?

 _Pha._          You love her still!

 _Bia._                             Nay, sweet.
 Not for three days. Believe me, cousin!

 _Pha._                                 _Cousin!_
 Athene save us! See her now,--the plague!

 _Bia._ By gentle Eros, Phania, we'll be kind.
 I loved her once.

 _Pha._           How tall she is!

 _Bia._                           Ay, moves
 A very sylph!

      [_Sybaris comes on, lower right_]

 _Syb._ A fair day's greeting, friends!

 _Bia._ We double it for thee.

 _Pha._                       My dearest Syb!
 Do you turn snail, you keep your house so long?
 Why, _hours_, I think!

 _Syb._                Indeed!

 _Bia._                       Where lovers watch
 The dial, that's an age.

 _Pha._                  Oh, so!

 _Bia._ [_To Phania_]           Do I
 Not know?

 _Syb._ An age? Ay, love grows old and fades in 't.

 _Bia._ A thousand moons in journey o'er my love
 Would leave 't no withered hour! By the fair soul
 Of one who knows me true!

 _Syb._                   That is no woman.

 _Pha._ A pretty oath!

 _Syb._               But not a new one, dear.

 _Bia._ Plead, Phania, dove! Let her not chide
 Poor penitence on knee. In two days' time
 I sail to war, yet stony Sybaris
 Would break love's wings with doubt--put me aboard
 With sighs to sink my ship----

 _Pha._                        Nay, Sybaris!
 I'll vow him constant now.

 _Syb._                    Inconstancy
 Once stopped for breath, and fools came with a chair.

 _Bia._ No thaw in thee? Plead, Phania, sweet! Your lips
 Are unimpeached where mine too oft have worn
 Conviction's droop.

 _Pha._             Forgive, dear Sybaris!

 _Bia._ Ay, be my tongue! Tell her that as the bee
 Betrays the honey-buds yet hiveward flies,
 I've left all by-roads for the true home-path.

 _Syb._ Then you have trailed all others stale. There's none
 Left new but that.

 _Bia._            Tell her when I have sailed
 From Athens' eyes into the sun that eve
 May skirt with blood----

 _Pha._                  No, no!

 _Bia._                         --to walk with you
 The haven's brim, watching the waves that throw
 The sea-heart there, and know that from my ship
 Pulses a heart to love's dream-sandalled feet
 As constant as the sea to Athens' shore.
  [_Sybaris moves relentingly nearer. Biades behind Phania, who sits on
      bench, leans to talk into her ear, but keeps his eyes tenderly on
      Sybaris_]
 Ah, tell her, Phania, sleep is slow to come
 Where warriors bed, and unforgiven hours
 Are thorny comrades for an age-long night.

 _Syb._ Then here's my hand. Pray Pallas 'tis no fool's!

 _Bia._ Yours too, my Phania! In one breath I seal
 Judge and defender mine! [_Kissing their hands_]
                         Now with my ship
 Will prayers go tendant, mending every sail
 That storm may batter. Typhon, whirl the sea
 To insurrection,--send her meekest wave
 To crinkle round the sun, and hiss from Heaven
 The mariner's port-star,--I shall be safe
 While I have implorators fair as ye
 To melt the gods!

 _Syb._           Ah, Biades, thou must
 Be loved or die. Is 't heart or vanity,
 That's so insatiate?

 _Pha._              Nay, you have forgiven!

 _Syb._ But will not coo yet. Is that Creon comes?
                                          [_Looking to upper right_]
 You'll meet him, Phania?

 _Pha._                  He knows his way.

 _Bia._                                   Has news!
 I'll pick the pigeon. [_Goes up right_]

 _Pha._               O, my Sybaris,
 Thanks for this generous peace! But who could long
 Be harsh to Biades?

 _Syb._             Such steel's not in me.
 I but stood off, a shadow of resolve,
 To hear him woo me back. His coldest words
 Are ta'en from music, but when warm in suit,
 Then music sues to him.

 _Pha._                 Woo _you_? Didst say
 _Woo you_? Couldst think--couldst dream--couldst let blind sense
 So flatter?

 _Syb._ Blind? Well, you've no eye to lend.

 _Pha._ His words were all for me, and through my heart
 Were sifted to your ears.

 _Syb._                   For you, my dear?
 Now what a gosling 'tis!

 _Pha._                  Oh! Ask him then!

 _Syb._ You'll beat that bush. I have no doubt in cover.

      [_Biades returns with Creon_]

 _Cre._ You'll not go out?

 _Bia._                   No, friend.

 _Cre._                              I warn you, sir!
 It is your reputation left i' the street
 That knocks for you.

 _Bia._              'Twill care for itself.

 _Cre._                                     Nay, come!
 Soon every ear in Athens will be crammed
 Wi' the tale.

 _Syb._   What tale?

 _Cre._             'Tis said that Biades
 Was cap and spur to riot that defaced
 The Hermæ yesternight.

 _Bia._                Denosed, you mean.

 _Pha._ O, do not jest! I tremble, Biades!

 _Cre._ You must o'ertake the lie, my lord, ere winds
 Be up with 't.

 _Bia._ Let it fly, my Creon. When
 Its wings are worn 'twill down for any heel
 To trample.

 _Cre._ Not this feather. It broods on the air,
 And its dark issue makes eclipse your sun
 Can push no beam through.

 _Bia._                   Sinon's pate has hatched
 The ebon chick.

 _Cre._         You're not far out. He wants
 The generalship.

      [_Enter Hippargus, upper right_]

 _Bia._          Here comes a tongue to market.
 Most purchasable, tho' neither cut nor dried.

 _Cre._ The senate's messenger!

 _Bia._                        Greeting, Hippargus.

 _Hip._ Greeting, my lord,--and I must lay command
 On that, for you are charged on the instant to appear
 Before the Council.

 _Bia._             The instant? Cramped to that?
 And what to do there, sir?

 _Hip._                    Give proof you touched
 With no profaning and injurious hand
 Our threshold gods.

 _Bia._             Go gently back, Hippargus,
 And tell the senators I pardon them,
 Knowing they do mistake. They would not lay
 So dull an antic on me, and this charge
 Is meant for Bico, my fat monkey here,
 Whom they may have for trial.

 _Hip._                       Spare such jest,
 My worthy lord. A hundred tongues have sworn
 You said in open street, nor cared who heard,
 The guardian Hermæ might be nipped of ears,
 And noses too, yet serve our pious turn,
 Since they smell out no faults and citizens
 Confess none.

 _Bia._       Ah! Do they make wit a crime,
 Who have no taint of its color? Say 'twere red
 The senators would never be mistook
 For woodpeckers. Gods! When they prate, I know
 Athene's owl is stuffed, and her wise serpent
 An old-year slough! Off now! Your pannier's full.
 Trot and unpack.

      [_Exit Hippargus_]

 _Cre._          Out! Follow, and deny
 This answer! Dare you, standing on the top
 And slippery point of fortune, throw your cap
 In Heaven's face?

 _Bia._ Dare I do less? No, friend.
 The Council fears me, and would see me down.
 My power is in the people, who for gold
 And merry flattery give me their love.
 But now they're on the quibble how to turn,
 To me or Sinon. I'll not let them see
 My office brought to question, and myself
 Outfaced by perjurers in Sinon's keep.
 Nay, when they find I'm not the senate's groom,
 But know myself, their pride will know me too,
 And I shall go to bed as I rose up,
 The Athenian general.

 _Cre._               The street will bellow.
 I'll listen to it, and pick interpretation
 From 'ts roar. You'll come with me?

 _Bia._                             Though oracles,
 On every curb and step, begged audience,
 I'd not go out.

      [_Exit Creon_]

 _Pha._         Oh, me!

 _Bia._                Why so? I'm not a hare
 To jump because a leaf falls. Wag the hour,
 And Pleasure wait on us! If she fill not
 My cup to-day, I fear it must go empty
 A good twelvemonth. There are fair maids
 In Syracuse, but they'll peer on me through
 A crimson lattice.

 _Pha._            You'll not see them, sir!
 Or break a thousand oaths! So oft you've sworn
 No beauty out of Athens could persuade
 Your eyes to worship.

 _Syb._               Then the Spartan maid
 Lodged here will let him sleep.

 _Bia._                         What maid is this?

 _Pha._ Why, Pyrrha,--Stesilaus' daughter.

 _Bia._                                   Here?

 _Pha._ Ay, everybody's here.

 _Syb._                      I saw her leave
 The chariot. Such clothes!

 _Pha._                    _No_ clothes, you mean!

 _Syb._ [_In shocked aside_] Just to the knees!

 _Pha._                                        And open to the hips!

 _Syb._ You say it!

 _Pha._            And manners, none. I took her nuts
 And sugared poppy seeds. She said she kept
 No parrot.

 _Syb._ Here's a guest!

 _Pha._                And when I said
 I _lived_ on them----

 _Bia._               My dainty!

 _Pha._                         --then she asked
 If that made me so little!

 _Bia._                    Ay, they feed
 To grow in Sparta. Breed but monsters there.
 No arts, no grace, no soft and tendrilled speech
 That creeps to ends of being and looks back
 Exultant and afraid. They are not men,
 But, wearing human port, would force on us
 A beastly comradeship. Set me to woo
 A toad bred in a ditch of Attica,
 But not a maid of Sparta! Were she fair
 As was Persephone when she drew the god
 From nether earth, yet sprung from that hard soil,
 I'd let her beauty pass.

 _Syb._                  Hist, Biades!
 She's yonder.

      [_They look middle left, where Pyrrha appears_]

 _Pha._ I like the garden best when 't wears
 Pale Cybele's gown. Apollo makes it harsh
 In black and gold--Ah, Pyrrha! You have found
 Our blossomy corner. Welcome to it, and know
 My neighbor, Sybaris,--and Biades.

 _Pyrr._ I greet you, friends of Athens.

 _Pha._                                 Will you sit?

 _Bia._ [_Who has not removed his gaze from her since her entrance_]
 A walk! That was your wish.
 I'll show the paths.

 _Syb._ Nay, here's a seat.

 _Bia._                    There's Artystone's rose,
 Brought from the Mysian stream----

 _Pha._                            She'll stay with us.

 _Bia._ The ivory cup of Isis, where each night
 Her one tear falls,--and flowers whose sisters blow
 In walled Ecbatana.

 _Syb._             Come, sit by me,
 Dear Pyrrha.

 _Pyrr._ I would see the garden.

 _Syb._ [_Rising_]              Would?
 We'll guide you then.

 _Pha._               Ay, who would dawdle here?

 _Bia._ But rest a moment, Pyrrha. I mind me now,
 That from this spot the eye may best o'ersweep
 The full design. Yon mass of planes----

 _Pyrr._                                I'll walk
 Alone. [_Moves off, lower right_]

 _Syb._ Well!

 _Pha._      Said I not?

 _Syb._                 Does nothing that
 She's asked! And stares as though a woman's eyes
 Were made to see with, when their chiefest use
 Is not to see!

 _Pha._ Crude as her Spartan rocks!

 _Bia._ I'll follow.

 _Syb._             Nay, she'd _walk alone_!

 _Bia._                                     She's Athens' guest.
 I'll not be rude, whatever lack in her
 Provokes me to it.

 _Pha._            Nor shall I, by all
 The grace in th' world!

 _Syb._                 You shame us, Biades.
 We'll go with you.

  [_Each taken an arm of Biades as he goes right. Pelagon enters, upper
      left_]

 _Pel._            Daughter, this way!

      [_Phania returns reluctantly. The others pass off, right_]

 _Pel._                               My chick,--
 Nay, I'll be brief. I know young feet would flock.

 _Pha._ O, father dear, I'd please you first! [_Kissing him_]

 _Pel._                                      Well, well!...
 You've seen Lord Stesilaus?

 _Pha._                     Just a peek.

 _Pel._ Nay, he's no bear.

 _Pha._                   He'll bite though. I know that.

 _Pel._ Now, Phania, now! I have a reason, miss,
 A most dear reason you should win the love
 Of Stesilaus.

 _Pha._ Love!

 _Pel._      I mean, my duck,
 A father's gentle love.

 _Pha._                 But, daddy, he's----
 So tall!

 _Pel._ He has a heart, my daughter.

 _Pha._                             Fum!
 Are you so sure?

 _Pel._          Find it the shortest way.
 Remember he's your--hmm!--remember--hmm!--
 That he's a man--as I am--and his pride
 But April frost. Be as he were myself----

 _Pha._ As you? Oh, dear! [_Under his arm_]
         And must I cuddle so?
 Nay, that's for my own fa-fa!

 _Pel._                       Little Phania!
 I'll lose my pipit,--lose my bonny bird!

 _Pha._ Lose me? O, never, daddy, never! I'm
 Your pipsey, wipsey, umpsey, ownty own!

 _Pel._ [_Resolutely_] Wait here. I'll send him by.

 _Pha._                                            But, father, why----

 _Pel._ Nay, that's my secret. Not for little birds.

  [_Exit upper left. Phania waits until he disappears, then turns
      flying, and vanishes lower right. Archippe and Sachinessa
      enter, middle left_]

 _Sac._ Blest be Athene, there's nobody here!
 The house is overrun, and Pelagon
 Has twenty shadows, one at every door.
 Out, in,--in, out,--with ears like aprons held
 For every whisper! Here we're safe to talk.

 _Arc._ O, dearest Sachinessa, what's to do?

 _Sac._ We'll go to Philon. If he says confess----

 _Arc._ Confess? I'll never do it! I will take
 What way he will but that, though 't be the one
 Leads out of life. You do not know my lord!

 _Sac._ Your Stesilaus is no god, Archippe.
 I'll tell you that.

 _Arc._             If it should come to him
 We never changed our daughters! If he learns
 That twenty years I've made him wear the hood,
 His roof no more would shade me. Nay! Confess?
 Oh, Sachinessa, I should lose him quite!

 _Sac._ That could be borne, I think.

 _Arc._                              But lose my Pyrrha?
 Be driven out from her? See her no more?

 _Sac._ There, friend, you stir me. Such a piece of man!
 To strike like that because a woman's wit
 Has clipped his own! He's not suspected you
 In all these years?

 _Arc._ Not once. I've watched myself
 As I were my own jailer, fenced my heart,
 And made my love a thief that gave my child
 No open looks, but by her bed at night
 Stole comfort as she slept.

 _Sac._                     Not I, Archippe!
 I've laughed above the snores of Pelagon,
 Knowing my darling near, whom he thought far
 As Sparta. Come! You're taller by a head
 Than I, yet die with quaking. And I thought
 Each Lacedæmon wife a lioness.

 _Arc._ Ah, but their lords are lions.

 _Sac._                               Well, they've mane
 Enough, but they'd not shake it in my face.

 _Arc._ Will you confess?

 _Sac._                  Why, no. For Pelagon
 Would play the spousal saint, sit on the clouds,
 And with a piety intolerable
 Forgive his perjured wife. What soul could bear it?
 But I'll not part with Phania, know you that!

 _Arc._ What then?

 _Sac._           We'll go to Philon. How to keep
 Our secret and our daughters,--that's a nut
 To break the oracle's teeth.

 _Arc._                      If 't can be done!

 _Sac._ It must be done, Archippe. Come,--I hear
 A chatter. This way out.

  [_They leave, upper right. Biades, Pyrrha, Sybaris, and Phania enter
      lower right_]

 _Pha._          What of our garden,
 Now all is seen?

 _Pyrr._         Here gods should live, not men.
 At every turn I seemed to lose the step
 Of a departing deity.

 _Syb._               We are content
 With our Athenian lords, and seek no charm
 To turn them into gods.

 _Bia._ [_Showing a locket_] I've here a charm
 Does more than that. This jewel webbed
 In mystic rings--and set----

 _Syb._                      The Persian gem!
 You promised me----

 _Bia._             It is a magic stone,
 That gazed upon by a true-minded maid----

 _Pha._ [_Securing the trinket_] I'll see it, sir!
                   I've heard you vow your bride
 Should wear this locket.

 _Bia._ [_To Phania_] So she shall.
                      [_To Sybaris_] None else!
        [_To Pyrrha_]
 You hear my oath. Come, Sybaris, sit here
 And, Phania,--come! You both shall peep at fate
 Through a ruby portal, if your hearts be true.
 Now fix your look----

 _Pha._               We'll see the same!

 _Bia._                                  Not so.
 Each fortune's connate with the gazer's star,
 And tinted as she dreams. Direct your eyes
 With flawless constancy, or you'll see naught.

 _Pha._ Not lift them once?

 _Bia._                    Nay, fasten every thought
 Deep in the jewel's fire, till I have said
 The Persian chant of welcome to the spirit
 Whose magic you shall see.

 _Pha._                    A spirit? Oh!

 _Bia._ But she is fair,--framed as divinity
 For adoration.

 _Syb._        She!

 _Bia._            Lift not your eyes.

  [_Stands behind Phania and Sybaris and makes the incantation an ardent
      address to Pyrrha_]

    Spirit of Fate, what mystical wooing
      May win thee to pause where we pray?
    Misers of Dream their locks are undoing,--
      Mistress of Keys, wilt thou stay?

    Priestess, thyself, O fairer than dreaming,
      Art deity's answer to prayer!
    Dusk in thine eyes is the seer-burthen gleaming,
      And moon-wands at rest in thy hair.

    Far-foot Desire is lost in the winding
      Of valleys and gardens of thee!
    Hoop of white arms is circumferent binding
      The star-pastured world and me!

  [_Sybaris throws the locket at his feet. He turns and sees that she
      and Phania have risen and are staring at him_]

 _Pyrr._ [_After a silence_] I do not know this game. Will leave you to it.
                                               [_Exit, middle left_]

 _Syb._ And I'll go home! [_Exit, lower left_]

 _Pha._                  And I'll go tell my father!
                                                [_Exit, upper left_]

 _Bia._ And I'll go stand in th' donkey mart and bray
 Till a farmer buys me! Witched, and by a Spartan!
 Mad as the fleeing ass of Thessaly! [_Exit, upper right_]

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT II


SCENE: _The same as first act, a few minutes later. Phania in discovered
in rear. Stesilaus walks frozenly back and forth, front, while she
timidly advances and retreats._


 _Pha._ [_Approaching_] I'm Phania, sir.

 _Ste._ [_Looks at her incredulously, then walks left, leaving her centre_]
            My blood and bone in that!
 What dwarf-dish has she fed on? Ugh!

 _Pha._ [_Crossing_]                 I've come
 To walk with you. You like our garden, sir?
 We've bulbuls in it,--and wee, visiting wings
 From the unknown south. Can see them if you watch
 A place I know. They dart like breathing bits
 Of chrysoprase and sard o' the sun.

 _Ste._                             Humph! You
 Are Phania?

 _Pha._ [_Braver_] Troth, I am! Wilt see a nest--
 So small as--that! Could put it on your thumb.
                                              [_Takes his hand_]
 I'll show you, sir. Don't you love _little_ things?
 They wiggle to the heart, my daddy says.
 You love my _daddy_, don't you?

 _Ste._                         Ugh! Your--Ugh!

 _Pha._ [_Defensive_] _I_ love him,--yes, and all his friends. I do,
 Though they're--so tall. I come just to your beard.
 See now! [_Leans against him_]

 _Ste._ Get off! You squeaking pewit! Ugh!

 _Pha._ [_Quiveringly_] Have I displeased you, sir?

 _Ste._                                            Displeased me? No.
 You make contentment creep on honored bones
 Far back as Lacedæmon's earliest grave
 That opened for my house. You turn my blood
 That's not yet earthed, and hot as Sparta's pride,
 To drops that mutiny 'gainst their own succession
 And beg to be the end. Displeased? Oh, no!
                                         [_Retires, rear_]

 _Pha._ Oh, sir----

  [_Fails, and goes off weeping, lower right. Enter, upper right, Biades
      and Creon_]

 _Cre._ But this confusion, many-throated,
 Has single voice and warns articulate.
 A treasonous tempest rises, and you stand
 A god indifferent when you should bethink
 Yourself most mortal. Vilest mouths puff bold
 In Sinon's service. You must wax your way
 To th' Council----

 _Bia._ Nay, no bending there!

 _Cre._                       But----

 _Bia._                              Peace!
 Here's Stesilaus! He's most heavy shipped.
 What is aboard? And now comes Pelagon,
 With 's threshing-tongue a-ready. Chaff will fly.

      [_Enter Pelagon, upper left_]

 _Pel._ What thinkst of Phania? Is she not a chick?

 _Ste._ You've tricked me, Pelagon! What fubbery
 Have you put on me?

 _Pel._             Sir? Now, now! Why, friend!

 _Ste._ That's not my daughter!

 _Bia._ [_Drawing Creon back_] Whist!

 _Ste._                              I'll see my own!
 _My_ Phania! Not that bib,--that mewling piece,
 With th' milk still in her mouth!

 _Pel._                           Speak so of her?
 A bud in th' dew! A cherry next its leaf!
 A pippin on the limb!

 _Ste._               Not mine, I say!

 _Pel._ If you repent you did beget her, sir,
 I'll be your shift and own the curtained deed
 'Fore man and Heaven.

 _Ste._               That my child?

 _Pel._                             Yours, friend.

 _Ste._ Would she had never left Archippe's lap
 For Sachinessa's! Patience, cool my tongue!
 But I've done better by your Pyrrha!

 _Pel._                              Soft,
 Beseech you, Stesilaus! Here's no place
 For trumpeting our secret. And brief time
 Forbids it present voice. The hour is on
 To hear the people's answer. Come, my lord.
 Your comrades go before you. We're past late.

 _Ste._ Friend Pelagon, though courtesy be pressed
 To th' kibe, I'll urge you keep at home. 'Tis best
 You be not seen in this. The lords, who know
 You lean to Sparta,--and for that all thanks,--
 Are pricked therewith to oppose us, when they else
 Might voice us favor.

 _Pel._               Ay, they know me, friend.
 My eye sets them at guard. They feel it, sir!
 Puts them on screw. Well, so,--I'll stay behind.
 But let me set you forth. [_Exeunt, upper right_]

 _Bia._ Is 't trick, or truth?

 _Cre._                       Touch me! A needle's point
 Could find no spot amazement hath not taken!

 _Bia._ Didst hear it Creon? Pyrrha an Athenian!
 O, words of miracle, if ye be true,--
 Friend, friend, I'm in a whirl upon a way
 To use this strange unearthment for the good
 Of Athens. You'll be silent. Creon?

 _Cre._                             Nay,
 I think----

 _Bia._ And now I've lost fair Phania!

 _Cre._                               Lost?

 _Bia._ With Mars i' the dusk of this debated time,
 The Athenian general may not wive himself
 With Sparta.

 _Cre._ True!

 _Bia._      I might give up command,
 And be no more my country's armored watch....
 Nay, Attica is first! That's sworn. I'll plunge
 The sacrificial knife deep as my love.
 And now 'tis done. Ah, Creon, tend thee well
 My gentle loss.

 _Cre._ This sets thee o'er thyself!
 O noblest bounty that in grace compeers
 With emulous Heaven! What in me can pay----

 _Bia._ No more of 't now. But what a secret this!
 If 't solely were my own--

 _Cre._                    It is, my lord!
 'Tis yours. I have no speech, no tongue for 't!

 _Bia._                                         Thanks,
 My Creon, thanks! And will you go once more
 To th' street, where now it seems I have some need
 Of loyal ears?

 _Cre._   I serve you, Biades. [_Exit, upper right_]

 _Bia._ Fast hooked, and feels no barb. If he'll lie dark
 Till I would stir the waters.... Is it truth?
 Pyrrha! Athenian born and Spartan bred!
 By Mars and Eros! Here's a captain's bride!
 There's flutter in me like a forest shook
 With waking birds!

      [_Re-enter Phania, still weeping_]

 _Bia._ Why, Phania! Such a shower,
 My kitkin!

 _Pha._ Stesilaus sh-shook me so!
 Called me a sque-e-aking pewit!

 _Bia._                         Ha! He did?
 Well, listen to me, Phania. Come, look up.
                                          [_Lifts her chin_]
 A maid with little eyes should never weep.
 Leave that to Juno orbs. They swim in sorrow
 Like full moons in a lake, but beads like yours
 Are only bright when dry. Shun grief as you
 Shun mud. [_Exit, middle left_]

 _Pha._ [_Gasping_] Why--Biades--he's gone!
 He said----
 Oh, oh! If I could die----

  [_Sobs with abandon. Enter Alcanor, upper left. He pauses before
      her. She looks up bewildered_]

 _Alc._                    Ah, gentle star,
 What shrouds thee in this rain? Yet thou'rt not hid.
 Thy beauty shining on these clouds of pearl
 Makes every drop that dies reflecting thee
 A little, falling sun.

 _Pha._                Oh, Biades said----
 He said--he said----

 _Alc._              If what he said so troubles,
 Let me unsay it with a kiss that makes
 Trouble forgot and dumb. [_Kisses her_]

 _Pha._ [_On his bosom_] I'm not--I'm not--
 Not _ugly_, sir?

 _Alc._          O, dove of Aphrodite!
 Earth stores her beauty in this single face,
 That she may show one jewel to the skies
 When gods boast they have all!

      [_Phania purrs comfortedly, then releases herself_]

 _Pha._                        How dare you, sir,
 Attack me? Who are you?

 _Alc._                 I do not know.

 _Pha._ Not know?

 _Alc._          Nothing of self or where I am.
 It may be those are trees on giant guard,
 And these bright peeping things are flowers' eyes,
 And this is happy grass we stand upon,
 And that blue watcher is the faithful sky,
 But I know naught except my soul is yours,
 O, maid-magician, in whose snare I lie
 Kissing the net that binds me! [_Kissing her fallen curls_]

 _Pha._                        But you know
 Your name!

 _Alc._ Not in this world a minute old
 That now I find me in, but in time past
 I was Alcanor, Stesilaus' son.

 _Pha._ O!--then--why--all is well! You're noble, sir!
 My father will approve you.

 _Alc._                     Hast a father?
 And art not magic-born? Then I perceive
 I must go back and find my earthly wits.

 _Pha._ Nay, he is Pelagon, your father's friend.

 _Alc._ You're Phania, then!

 _Pha._ [_Giving her hand_] I am.

 _Alc._                          No more than this?
 No kiss?

 _Pha._ [_Very shy_] You've had it, sir.

 _Alc._                                 A phantom one!
 'Twas in a dream, as two ghost-lovers meet
 On an Elysian path. Too cold for earth!

 _Pha._ [_Touching her cheek_] Nay, it is warm here yet.

  [_He takes her in his arms, and they withdraw lower right. Pelagon
      enters, upper right, in time to witness the embrace_]

 _Pel._ [_Rousing from his horror_] Her brother! Gods!
 Whip me all hagglers! We have stood so long
 At door of our confession that this shame
 Gets by us. Phania and Alcanor! Oh!
 No shuffling now! When Stesilaus comes,
 The tale must out!

  [_Enter Pyrrha, middle left. She crosses, passing Pelagon, who retreats
      rear, unseen by her. She loiters right_]

 _Pel._            Here's opportunity
 At beck. I'll follow. [_Advances_] Ahem! My daughter,----

 _Pyrr._                                                  Sir?
 You seek your daughter? I will look this way.
                                      [_Goes farther right_]

 _Pel._ I must advance, and take her Spartan guard
 With gentleness. My love, 'tis you I seek.

 _Pyrr._ [_Stiffly_] You'd speak to me?

 _Pel._                                    My little Pyrrha,----

 _Pyrr._                                                        Little!

 _Pel._ I think of Phania. In my heart you both
 Hold undivided place. Shall we not chat a bit,
 My Pyrrha?

 _Pyrr._ Kitchen maids do that, not men
 Of State.

 _Pel._ Nay, there's a time when one may cast
 The civic garment and take household ease
 In modest robe.

 _Pyrr._ [_Aside_] A swaddling band would fit him!

 _Pel._ You will not hear me?

 _Pyrr._                     I wait upon you, sir.
 For if your hostship I forget, and leave
 The fees of grace unpaid, I yet must know
 You are my father's friend. Say what you will,
 My lord.

 _Pel._ That word undears me! Let your tongue
 Breach colder custom and give me a name
 That brings me near in love as Stesilaus.
 Wilt call me father, Pyrrha?

 _Pyrr._ [_Retreating_] You, my lord?

 _Pel._ They've frozen her, poor child! Must blow more warm.
 Indeed a father. Call me what I am,
 For so I love you, Pyrrha.

 _Pyrr._                   Is it thus
 The Athens sages talk?

 _Pel._                Ay, we're not cut
 Of ice as Spartans are. Here your poor heart
 Shall know what sun is, and the Springs you've lost,
 Betrayed without a bloom in frigid Sparta,
 In Athens shall blow fair. You are amazed,
 My sweet, but by this kiss----

 _Pyrr._ [_Giving him a blow_] You goose-eyed goat!
 I strike not at your years, Lord Pelagon,
 But at your mind which has not come of age
 And gives me elder right.

  [_Exit, middle left. While Pelagon is recovering, enter Stesilaus,
      upper right_]

 _Pel._ [_Welcoming the interruption_] You, Stesilaus?
 So soon, friend, from the Assembly?

 _Ste._                             Late, sir, late!
 More haste had been more prudence.

 _Pel._                            Why, why, why!

 _Ste._ Where is your buttery nephew, Biades?
 Who slips to the seat of question and melts all
 Into one potch of folly!

 _Pel._                  But I'd know----

 _Ste._ Why I am here, not there? A crater mouth
 That calls itself a people hissed eruption
 Into my face, and without bow I set
 My back to 't, sir!

 _Pel._             Blame me for all! I knew
 I should not stay behind! The gods do know
 I am the voice of Athens. 'Tis no pride
 That speaks bare truth. I'll go----

 _Ste._                             Tuh, tuh!
 A word with Biades----

 _Pel._                But not too sharp,
 My friend. He is of weight----

 _Ste._                        No sharper than
 My stick! Then I set out for Sparta, where
 The very ground knows Stesilaus walks!

 _Pel._ And Phania goes with you?

 _Ste._                          Not if the chit
 May corner in your kitchen! She's worth that.

 _Pel._ You'll leave her here?

 _Ste._                       It will content me. I'll
 Surrender both.

 _Pel._ What? Both! Nay, your free heart
 Shall not outdo my own.

 _Ste._                 You'll give me Pyrrha?

 _Pel._ Friend of my soul, I will!

 _Ste._ [_Moved_]                 Thanks, Pelagon.
 She's dearer than my son. More like my blood.
 Alcanor is too soft and woman-lipped.
 Too much Archippe in him from his birth,
 Nor blows could drive it out.

 _Pel._                       And mine own eyes
 Have seen a cooing match between himself
 And Phania.

 _Ste._ Zeus! His sister!

 _Pel._                  While we speak,
 The fated pair are yonder----

 _Ste._                       I'll get him home!
 And leave the witch to you! Had I a doubt
 To hold me back, this turn would be
 Decision's point. She must stay here.

 _Pel._                               But how
 Make answer to our wives? Our wisdom's nicked
 Where it is tenderest if we confess.

 _Ste._ What's to confess? I know my will and do it.

 _Pel._ Ay, ay, you bear your wife in a sack, but mine
 Is on her feet and goes her pace. Look yon!
 They come together! A brace, and one of them
 Would tie my tongue.

 _Ste._              Tie water in a brook!

      [_Archippe and Sachinessa enter upper right_]

 _Sac._ We do not come to shame you, noble lords
 And husbands, though we've that to bear which put
 To honest ballad would uncrest your pride
 And clip a reef or two from the tall sail
 Of dignity.

 _Ste._ Why, madam, this approach?

 _Sac._ I walk, sir, in my garden when I please.

 _Arc._ We have a suit, my honored lords, which you
 May think full strange, remembering our prayers
 Of twenty years ago.

 _Ste._              What suit canst have?
 If you must try the goose-step out of doors,
 Go thank the gods for suiting you with me,
 Who save you from all suit by hearing none.

 _Sac._ Not hear us, sir? I'll catch you by the ears
 And shake the pride-wool out, but you shall hear!
 Suited with you! And then go thank the gods!

 _Pel._ Why, Sachinessa, love! What you, duck?

 _Sac._ This, Pelagon. When in that sad year gone
 You took my child from me----

 _Pel._                       What? That again?

 _Sac._ Not that, but this. I did not stay you then,
 Being young in wedlock and my wit at cheep
 In its first feathers. But this second time
 When you lift up your hand to cut the bough
 Whose root is in my heart, I'll speak so loud
 That if your dull ear miss, I'll reach you yet
 By way o' the stars that will cry back my wrong
 When they so hear it.

 _Pel._               You would beg for Phania?

 _Sac._ I would. There is no source of love so great
 As brooding care. That makes the mother, not
 The childing pangs. Though she, from the first hour,
 Will cherish what she must so dearly buy,
 'Tis day by watchful day her swelling love
 Is born. So I, as new days past, forgot
 The child of my brief pain, and gave to one
 That nestled in her place my care-born love.
 Now you would strike again----

 _Pel._                        Sweet, by my soul,--
 Nay, Sachinessa, dearest heart, be calm.
 Your words have never in our mated life
 Moved me as now. If Stesilaus yields,
 And his stern will be broken by your plea,
 I am content.

 _Ste._ I'm so far moved, my friend,
 That I will hear Archippe speak her wish.
 Her love for Pyrrha will not match with that
 Your wife bestows on Phania.

 _Arc._                      Ay, my lord,
 I've never loved the stranger as my own,
 But she is dearer than my own grown strange.
 I see in Phania all my tender loss,
 But it is lost forever. Give me, Pyrrha.
 I have no other daughter.

 _Ste._                   Keep her, dame.
 But make this weakness not your heckling ground
 Where you would spar for favors. No more suits!

 _Pel._ And, Sachinessa, hear the same from me.

 _Sac._ You borrow feathers and I'll twitch 'em out!

 _Ste._ [_To Archippe_] Lest you should badger, footed safe on this,
 Know that my judgment's not earwigged by you
 To this repeal, but now configures pat
 To the act itself, that keeps a constant step
 With our first purpose. Our intent comes out
 With even edges, though reversed in face.
 An Athens' maid shall be a Spartan mother,
 And here shall dwell a dame of Spartan blood.

 _Pel._ You hear it, Sachinessa. I'm not one
 To throw my pack away in sight of home.
 Come mud, come mire, I bear my judgment out,
 As Athens knows.

 _Sac._          I'll swear to it there's no man
 I' the city better hides the sun with a sieve!

 _Ste._ And secondly, my dame, know that I've won
 My high contention that the laws of Sparta
 Are best for brooding earth a godlike race.
 For here my proof enroots in warmest life
 That they can aggrandize the chalky veins
 Of pampered Attica to ducts that bear
 The red, unconquered sap of Lacedæmon.

 _Sac._ So Pyrrha is your proof!

 _Ste._                         No question there.
 A weak, Athenian babe grows up the pride
 Of Sparta, while a budling of her own,
 Nursled by Athens' soft and careless shift,
 Scarce grows to woman's level----

 _Sac._                           Why, you puffed----
 You pride-blown----

 _Arc._             Come with me!

 _Sac._                          But such a bladder!
 He'd top a flood into the second world
 And wet but half his skin!

 _Arc._                    Nay, Sachinessa,
 Our suit is won. No words! We'll haste once more
 To Philon's shrine. For this dear joy I'll bend
 A willing knee. Come, come!
                           [_Draws her away, upper right_]

 _Pel._ [_Capering_] Could reel it now
 Like school-boy 'scaped a whipping!

 _Ste._                             Shame! Your years
 Will blush. [_Goes left_] Now Biades, and then farewell!

 _Pel._ Ah, there's my mourning cloak! I'll go at once
 To th' Council, and----

 _Ste._                 Vain labor, Pelagon.

 _Pel._ Nay, I will stir them!

  [_Exit, upper right. Biades enters left. He is arrayed in a purple
      gown with long train held up by his monkey. A peacock fan swings
      from a girdle, and jewels dangle from his ears. He carries a
      scroll from which he reads as he walks, tittering over the
      matter. Stesilaus watches him curiously, then amazedly recognizes
      him_]

 _Ste._                       Biades! Is 't he?
 May eyes report it to a brain unshaken?
 ... Ho, sir,--or madam?

 _Bia._                 Did you speak, my lord?
 Your pardon! I was buried here,--quite drowned
 I' the honey of this tale. Sir, it suggests,--
 But that's not it,--the style, so quaint, so pure,--
 It plays with thoughts and leaves them bright as shells
 The sea has polished to their curling edges.
 You'll hear this line? 'Tis worth a pause. Eh, not?
 You've never wooed the script? Ah, I forget.
 War is the art of Sparta.

 _Ste._                   Are you man?

 _Bia._ What's that to an artist, sir? Life in me packs
 The germinal grain of all, and what may come
 To birth and bloom, I leave to nursing Fate.
 But you seem ruffled,--warm. Pray have my fan.
 Then take my parchment,--sit you in this nook
 And read of Corys and his water-nymph
 Until the charm of an unhurrying world
 Steals wave-like round you.

 _Ste._ Olympus! Was 't this voice
 That tripped my reason? Led my cautious years
 To take instruction from a dizzened ape
 And lose the cause they guarded? Was 't myself
 So slubbered judgment----

 _Bia._                   Ah, must I believe
 You honored my good counsel?

 _Ste._                      Good!

 _Bia._                           'Twas good
 For Athens. Ha, you slipped into the noose
 As easily as my finger takes this ring.
 A wondrous sapphire here. You know the stone?
 This is from Egypt,--has the desert fire
 'Neath Nilus' liquid smile. Is 't not a treasure?
 But I forget. Your Sparta has no gems.
 By Hera's belt, your country goes too bare
 For this adornèd earth!

 _Ste._                 Come, Biades!
 Throw off that gown, and with a captain's sword
 Deny this folly!

 _Bia._          Friend, 'tis not my hour
 For exercise. Our moods, I see, would quarrel.
 But here's my thornless world. You'll pardon me.

  [_Resumes walking and reading as before. Pyrrha enters, middle left,
      and stands watching him. He looks up and is struck motionless to
      find her eyes upon him. She comes nearer for a detached scrutiny,
      then crosses right_]

 _Ste._ Find me Alcanor, daughter. And this hour
 We leave for Sparta.

 _Pyrr._             I am ready, sir.

      [_Exit, lower right. Stesilaus goes into house, upper left_]

 _Bia._ She has good eyes, and used them. Overshot,
 By Hermes! I must follow,--'twixt this fool
 And meditation's eye must interpose
 My soldier self!

  [_Tears off robe, under which he wears a simple, belted tunic, flings
      jewels from his ears, and drives out Bico. Goes off, lower right.
      Enter Pelagon, much ruffled, from street_]

 _Pel._ Where's Stesilaus? Stesilaus, ho!
 Find Stesilaus!
      [_Stesilaus returns, upper left_]
                O, my friend, they're mad,
 And you must fly! I never was so battered!
 The senators cry out you played with them
 As though their stationed honors were a row
 Of last year's weanlings,--first to say you bore
 Full power to treat, then at their open answer
 To cover and prefer the opposite,
 Declaring that their noble terms must cool
 On th' road to Sparta! As I speak your comrades
 Are driven through the gates. You must not stay.
 They'll have your life, they are so worked. Come, come!
 I know a way--I'll get you through----

 _Ste._                                I'll go
 The way I came.

 _Pel._         Nay, nay, I'll slip you out!
 Leave here your wife and daughter. In gentler hour
 I'll send them after, with your son,--

 _Ste._                                I'll speak
 To Pyrrha----

 _Pel._ No! This way! The world's at somersault!
 The turtle's on his back, his claws to Heaven!
 No one would hear me! _Me!_ The voice of Athens!
 And jeered me down, for I was Biades' kin,--
 Though why the wind sits so I know not!
 Come--come--I was so battered----

      [_Exeunt, upper left. Pyrrha and Biades enter, lower right_]

 _Bia._                           But one word!

 _Pyrr._ I've let you shower words in hope to drain
 Your breath of them, but they grow to a hail.
 Pelt me no more, Athenian.

 _Bia._                    O, that name
 I held my pearl of honor is become
 A wounding thorn! I'll wear 't no more.

 _Pyrr._                                You'll be
 A Spartan?

 _Bia._ Ay, if you are one!

 _Pyrr._                   So vows
 An Athens' captain.

 _Bia._             Nay, I have no place,
 No rank, no office, duty or pursuit,
 But this my gage is in. Nor rest till I have won!

 _Pyrr._ Then you'll die weary, sir. So long 'twill take
 To make me yours.

 _Bia._           If you will love my shade
 I'll on the instant make myself a ghost!

 _Pyrr._ Love's burning deeds do ever lie before him.
 He ne'er gets past to make them history.

 _Bia._ O, hear my oath! Thy birthland shall be mine!

 _Pyrr._ Whist, Biades! The gods might hear you too.

 _Bia._ I'll swear it in the ears of Zeus!

 _Pyrr._                                  By what
 Irreverenced deity wilt break it?

 _Bia._                           Ah,
 By none, fair Pyrrha! I'll stake my golden part
 In love's eternity, no land's more dear
 To my own heart than that which gave you birth.

 _Pyrr._ Ay, for on Spartan soil the laurel grows
 Which you would pluck from drenched defeat and set
 Among your bays. So dear as that!

      [_A clamor is heard in street_]

 _Bia._                           I'll woo
 In better time. Till then let this pure gem
 Speak for me on your breast. 'Tis like my love,
 No sudden thing. For as this captive fire
 Dreamed in the heart of earth and could not wake
 Till beauty born in man sent down his kiss,
 So lay my love in Life from her first breath,
 Deep as unconsciousness, till at your step
 It knew itself. You scorn the half-hour flame,
 But in your coming like an instant dawn
 Find all its brevity. Ay, Pyrrha, sweet!
 And let my token lie, a patient prayer,
 Upon your bosom. Heaven should have its sun!

  [_Drops the locket into the folds of her dress. She casts it to the
      ground_]

 _Pyrr._ Athens is such a sun, and Sparta as my foot
 Shall overcloud it! [_Exit, middle left_]

 _Bia._        Had she crushed my gem
 To bleeding dust, I'd pay it o'er to see
 Such flame unsheathe. Bright Eos necklaced with
 A darkling east could not more beauteously
 Threat earth with storm. [_Takes up the locket_]
          You'll wear it yet, my terror,
 Or I'll cut out the tongue that can not wag
 To a woman's heart.
      [_Enter Creon from street_]
         What, Creon? Dumb with news?
 Which I will guess before your tongue's uncrimped.
 We've lost our gentle guests? Our Spartan friends
 Are off?

 _Cre._ They're driven out. But that is old.
 Atop that tale, like mountain on a hump,
 Comes one will wake you, sir! The tumbling streams
 That bore the Spartans out, rage back again,
 A gathered flood against you,--you, my lord!

 _Bia._ Ah!

 _Cre._    Sinon's poison spreads till men
 That yesterday lay down before you, now
 Cry for your death. I warned you, friend!

 _Bia._                                   You did.
 Be happy then. Your duty's done.

 _Cre._                          Oh, sir,
 Your house is sacked, and all your golden plate,
 Parcelled on robber backs, is carried out
 And spots the city with a hundred suns!

 _Bia._ There's more i' the world. Let that not trouble you.

 _Cre._ Your robes are in the street, and carters' wheels
 Grow royal with them!

 _Bia._               Well, there yet are looms.
 While weavers know their art this is no loss.

 _Cre._ Your pictures----

 _Bia._                  What? If they've one finger laid
 On those immortal treasures----

 _Cre._                         All are riddled!

 _Bia._ All, Creon? Not my Zeuxis? No! The stones
 Hurled at it would have paused as though a god
 Were hidden there!

 _Cre._            All, friend.

 _Bia._                        Ay, these are tears.
 But I will chide them and think on my sword.
 Now I must bend me to the senators,--
 Get leave to call my troops,--
      [_Enter a body of senators, Amentor at their head_]
                               Most noble lords,
 I was about to seek you.

 _Amen._                 Shifts your mood,
 Proud Biades? The answer's not yet cold
 That came so hot from you,--a two-edged shame
 That struck into your honor as our own!

 _Bia._ Nay, gentle senators, Athenian fathers!
 That you could note so low, so foul a charge
 As secret Sinon brought against my name,
 Gave me the block, the bellows, and the fire
 Wherewith I forged my answer,--one that kept
 My honor whole, and if your own needs surgery,
 Lay 't not to me, but let good sense mend all,
 And give me leave to go against this mob
 Now scarring Athens' beauty.

 _Amen._                     Go alone.

 _Bia._ I have an army.

 _Amen._               Ask Lord Sinon that.

 _Bia._ When fishes drown!

 _Amen._                  Put out your single arm,
 And feel your army in it. Athens' troops
 Are now in Sinon's charge. You are no more
 Her general. You are banished.

 _Bia._                        Is this so?

 _Senators._ It is.

 _Bia._            Then I am dumb. Words on your heat
 Would fall as snow,--and I am not a man
 To let my scars speak, though my body bears
 Enough to cry you shame.

 _Amen._                 We know your valor,
 But with it goes a pride no State could bear
 But that it must. Make your escape, my lord.
 The people pressed us, and we save your life
 By this decree.

 _Bia._ O, Athens that did love me!

 _Amen._ And now repents that love, for know you, sir,
 Though men may be irreverent as they choose,
 They'll follow only who revere their gods.

      [_Exeunt senators_]

 _Cre._ But you were meek!

 _Bia._                   If I had let them know
 I've yet a tongue, they might have had that too,
 And in the courts where I must sue for love
 'Twill be my royal member,--all my suite
 And kingly plenitude.

 _Cre._               They will repent.

 _Bia._ On knees, sir! Banished! O, my heart could lend
 Hot Sirius fire!

 _Cre._          You! Banished!

 _Bia._                        Nay, while sense
 From wit and speech are undivorced, and courage
 Knits them in purpose drinking up the seas
 That distance me from Athens, who shall say
 I'm banished? Bribe mankind and nature too,
 Ye bleary senators! Suborn the winds!
 Put me at end of farthest watery leagues!
 While there's no rift between me and my gods,
 I'll shake this night as from Apollo's brow
 And show my day emergent!

 _Cre._                   Where wilt go?

 _Bia._ To Persia first, where I am dear to Phernes.
 And then, perchance, with Persia at my back,
 Sparta may find me fair, though now I'm black
 As Pluto's poker. We'll not flag, my heart,
 Till every fleet o' the world rides here and makes
 This saucy harbor tremble! What an ague then
 Shall shake thee, Athens, thinking on this hour!

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT III


SCENE: _The assembly ground of the Spartans. Maidens discovered. A dance
is ending._


 _Nac._ We limped through that. Apollo! Are there thorns
 I' the grass? We'll better it. Come!

 _Dia._                              No time. I hear
 The senators.

 _Nac._ They wait beyond the bridge
 For old Aristogeiton. Come, my maids!
 You, Dianessa need to school your toes.
 'Twas you played wild-foot--twice!

 _Art._                            Save her a slip
 When Agis' eye is on her!

 _Nac._                   Faith, she'd be
 No bride this year!

 _Dia._             What ache for that? His love
 Is slight if 't hangs upon my toes.

 _Nac._                             My troth!
 Less might catch more!

 _Dia._                You, Nacia, are not so lithe
 As a ferret in a hoop. An Athens maid
 Might labor so in all her skirts.

 _Nac._                           Ho, ho!
 A little puff blow such a fire? The coals
 Were hot then!

 _Myr._    Nay, my girls, we'll douse you both
 I' the river yonder if you flame at naught.
 How, Dianessa, dance the maids of Athens?
 But surely not in skirts!

 _Dia._                   My father saw them,
 And so he said.

 _Myr._         Why dance at all then? Grace
 That cadent girdles the invisible waves
 Of flute and harp is born of faining limbs,
 And hide them who may see it?

 _The._                       No doubt they bob
 Like bears in blankets, and believe they dance.

 _Nac._ Pyrrha could say. But since she came from Athens
 Who hears her speak?

 _Art._              She keeps from all our games,
 And scorns the wrestle, though our noblest youths
 Have sent her challenge.

 _The._                  Ay! Lets Dianessa wear
 The vestal bays, nor cares if Hieron
 Be there to see.

 _Myr._          Come, Pyrrha, tell us how
 The Athenian maidens dance with shrouded feet.

 _Pyrr._ They wear their robes as Morning does the mist
 That makes her beauty greater and her dream
 Live on in men.

 _Dia._         Ah, maidens, here's a tale
 For the other ear.

 _Pyrr._           The bare and brazen sun
 That's up without a cloud, cheers to the hunt,
 The fight, the bruited path,--makes careful dames
 Send linen to the ford, and say "Zeus grant,
 We'll air the beds!"

 _Nac._              Ay, wives must know their season.

 _Pyrr._ But let night-swimming Morn come up
 In foamy veil, and her priest-hearted rose
 Stays lusty feet and gives adventure's hour
 To the achieving soul.

 _Art._                What kin is this
 To th' matter?

 _Pyrr._       Why, Artante, when we dance
 Half naked as we do before the youths,
 They say of us "A bed-mate there, and strong
 To bear and breed brave warriors for my house."
 But they in Athens who so watch the dance,
 See sheatheless Being shine through form that would,
 Not softened thus, first fill the ruder eye
 And leave unseen the token of a grace
 Earth may not shadow.

 _Dia._               Nay, you speak Athenian!
 Let's have it in our tongue.

 _Nac._                      What grace can be
 So badgered in a gown?

 _Pyrr._               Ask flying doves,
 That rhythm the air till it doth ache with loss
 When they have passed. So have these maidens taught
 The silken fold to be their wingèd part.

 _Myr._ Ask her no more. Alack, our Pyrrha drank
 Of charmed Ilissus,--must go back to Athens!

 _Nac._ But come! Our dance! We yet are Spartan maids.

 _Dia._ [_Taking wreath from her hair_] Our flowers are far from morning.
                   See, these buds
 Are pale as they had never known the dew.
 But I know where some fleecy clusters blow
 And daintily edge the stream. Like tiny birds,
 Green-necked and lily-winged, they are alight
 A hundred to a stem. I'll have a wreath
 Of them.

 _Myr._ And I. These sad things are less bright
 Than locks they should adorn.

 _Art._                       New garlands, all!
 Where grow these favors? Dianessa, lead!

  [_They go off, rear left. Pyrrha waits a meditative moment, then turns
      to follow. A bough brushes her cheek. She puts up her hand and
      plucks a bunch of berries from it_]

 _Pyrr._ 'Tis like his ruby. Nature loved them both
 With the same kiss,--the berry and the stone.
                              [_Fastens cluster to her bosom_]
 "Heaven should have its sun." This sun will fade,
 But that I threw away had ne'er lost hue
 So near my heart, giving and taking fire.
  [_Something thrown from the bushes falls at her feet. She gazes at it,
      not taking it up_]
 Ah! Biades' jewel! Who.... [_Looks about guardedly_]

  [_Biades comes from the woods. He is dressed as a Helot in a scant
      tunic of goat-skin, and wears a large cap_]

 _Pyrr._       Whose slave are you,
 Bold Helot?

 _Bia._ [_Kneeling_] Thine! [_Takes off cap, revealing his quantity of
                      dark curls_]

 _Pyrr._         Are you in love with death,
 That you have come to Sparta?

 _Bia._                       Nay, I come
 A banished man.

 _Pyrr._ I've heard how you were plucked.

 _Bia._ No feather left.

 _Pyrr._                Life, sir, is yours, and you
 Cast it away in Lacedæmon.

 _Bia._                    Nay,--

 _Pyrr._ You whose dark outrage made her honor bleed,
 Think on her burning wound to set the foot
 Of impudence and live?

 _Bia._                I know the Spartans.
 They will exalt my courage above death.

 _Pyrr._ Courage that reckons so bates its own worth
 Till a coward might disport it. You will meet
 Death's mercy but no other.

 _Bia._                     No, the virtue
 Dearest in them they'll hold dear in myself.
 But if not so,--blow out your candle, Fate,
 I'll go to bed.

 _Pyrr._ Why not have fled to Persia?
 She's softer mannered,--has no aching pride
 Your death would poultice.

 _Bia._                    Pyrrha lives in Sparta.
 Howe'er I set my feet, love turned them here.
 Which way I bent some tingèd thought of thee
 Crept as a secret sun to every sense
 And made the hidden threads of being blush
 Like coral boughs when Aphrodite's foot
 Is on the wave.

 _Pyrr._ Athenian, what canst hope
 From Stesilaus' daughter?

 _Bia._                   I ask naught.
 But had a gem of hers that hourly cried
 To clasp its mistress, and to bring it thus,
 With Death a looker-on, I thought might make
 The peasant service shine so sovranly
 That even her royal and offended eyes
 Might gently entertain it.

 _Pyrr._                   Deck the bark
 Of yon shag ilex and 'twill wear your trinket
 With the same grace and thanks.

 _Bia._                         Thy grace is hers
 Who walked unrobed from hands of the high gods
 Grown jealous of the beauty they had made.
 Not this, nor any jewel may adorn it,
 Though swartest pebbles might grow ruby proud,
 And rubies throb with breath to be so worn.
 And for thy thanks, I have not come this way
 To ask for them. Keep them for one so poor
 He lets his heart for hire.
                          [_Puts locket slowly under his tunic_]
          And yet my ears
 Fed on a sigh when I was hidden there.

 _Pyrr._ Who is so strong as never to have sighed?
 That secret moment was my weakest too.
 I'm now a Spartan, and my father's name
 Is Stesilaus. You may know it, sir,
 Who wert of Athens, but whose country now
 Is so much ground as you may beg of foes,
 And that, Zeus help, they'll measure without grudge.
 You're not so tall your grave would scant a field,
 Or make a garden less.

      [_Sounds of approach across bridge, lower right_]

 _Bia._                Does Fate come noisy-footed?
 I thought she crept, and loved the jungle-leap.

 _Pyrr._ Hide, sir! I'll be as secret as these shrubs,
 And not reveal you sooner. With the night
 You may steal out of Sparta.

 _Bia._                      I'll go out winged
 With Spartan ships, and honor as a bride
 Shall sail with me!

 _Pyrr._            Are you so mad? Then die!

  [_Enter ephors and senators, all old men, followed by warriors, then
      youths, wives, maidens, children, and attendant slaves. Biades
      draws his cap down and lies slouching on the grass. The ephors
      and senators take seats which the Helots have prepared for them_]

 _First Ephor._ What! Must we wait? Where are these merry slips?

 _First Senator._ The woods are dancing yonder. By that sign
 They come.

  [_Re-enter Dianessa, Myrta, and companions, who dance before the
      assembly, the figure symbolizing the capture of Persephone.
      They continue dancing, the youths joining, until every maid
      has won a partner._]

 _Ste._ [_To Archippe_] Our Pyrrha does not dance. Why's that?

 _Arc._ No why at all. I'll rate her. Sulky chuff!

 _Ste._ Ay, you'll be on her heels!

 _Arc._                            The younger maids
 Are chosen. She'll be left. There's Hieron
 With eyes like begging moons which way she goes,
 But she draws off,--

 _Ste._ Well, well! She'll please herself.

 _Arc._ In Phania, I'd have had a daughter now----

 _Ste._ What, madam? Gabble here? Be done!

 _Agis._ [_Among the young men_]          I thirst.
 [_To Biades_] Up, slave! Fill me a cup. Come, move, you drone!

      [_Biades slowly rises and goes to spring under trees, rear_]

 _A Young Lord._ What Helot's that?

 _Another._                        Some dog o' the farms. A staff
 On 's back might help his legs.

 _Another._                     I'll put mine to 't.

  [_Biades lazily returns with cup. In handing it to Agis he spills part
      of the contents_]

 _Agis._ [_Emptying the cup in Biades' face_] By Dis and Rhadamanthus! Sot!
                   Whose man
 Is this?

 _Bia._ My own, you Spartan whelp!

  [_Gives Agis a blow, so unexpected that it knocks him down. His head
      strikes the root of a tree and he does not rise. A number of
      Spartans rush upon Biades. Others bear Agis off, left_]

 _Voices._                        The dog!
 Tread him to earth! Down! down!

 _Bia._ [_Springing from them and taking off his cap_]
           What, Greeks? You'd kill
 A brother?

 _A Voice._ Biades!

 _Bia._            My friends----

 _Voices._                       Ha, ha! His friends!

 _Lys._ What friending was 't you gave us on the day
 You drove us out of Athens? Hoot and club
 Then spoke how dear you loved us. We had not
 Brought off our lives if your desire had dared
 Blow full on Athens' heat.

 _Gir._                    Brought off our lives?
 Where's Heracordus? Stoned at Athens' gate,
 And dead upon the road.

 _Bia._                 Nay, brothers----

 _Gir._                                  Ha!
 If you're a brother, weep beside his grave.
 I'll show it you.

 _Lys._           And all the graves where lie
 The dead we brought two bleeding years ago
 From Decalea's wall, where you gave entry
 Then broke the truce with charge!

 _Bia._                           But hear, my lords----

 _Gir._ Come, wail beside them till they wake and ask
 What new calamity brews in your tears!

      [_Enter Lenon_]

 _Len._ Agis yet swoons. That root was edged with death.
 We fear he's gone.

 _Gir._            For this alone, Athenian,
 You should not live,--though all your else-wrought deeds
 Were mercy's pawn for you.

 _Bia._                    Ye fathers, hear!
 If ye know Justice,--and the world has said
 Her lovers dwell in Sparta,--shall he cry
 To scorn-shut ears, whose injuries taking voice
 Should pass in thunder where your virtues sleep?
 Hear one whose wrongs have bruised him to your coast,
 And let it not be said that you from safe
 Unshaken rocks met suppliant hands with spears!

 _Ste._ Ye noble elders, there's a sort of mercy
 On which dishonor feeds. As pasty, soft
 As butter in the sun, it chokes the sluice
 Of reason,--in marshy obliteration lays
 The marks and bounds of justice,--nauseous spreads
 Till mind is left no throne. Let it not come
 Where sit the guards of honor!

 _Bia._                        I grant you so.
 But what I ask is not thus natured, sir!
 Sages of Lacedæmon, there's a mercy
 That veins the very rock of Justice' seat.
 It is the agent of divinest mould
 In all the world. By it the mind grows fair
 With blossoms deity may gather. 'Tis
 As precious to the soul as south-lipped winds
 To the winter-aching earth. Go bare of it,
 Though ye know Virtue ye wear not her pearl.
 I beg my life that you in saving me
 May save the heavenliest favor given to men,
 Nor crush it out of Sparta, leaving her
 The scarred and barren terror gods forsake.

 _Second Ephor._ Shall hear his plea? He may have argument
 Of worthy note.

 _Second Senator._ 'Tis not our way to judge
 The dumb.

 _Third Ephor._ [_Very old, creakingly_]
          Why, if a lion, boar, or pard,
 Or any beast, should pause as we did burn
 In chase, and beg us hear his cause, I think
 Our ears would ope.

 _Ste._             Ay, and the earth too, sir,
 Bearing such wonder on it! Folly's self
 Would be too wise to listen to this man,
 Yet ye would hear him!

 _Fourth Ephor._       More than would. We will.

 _Bia._ This clemency shows like yourselves,--the gem
 Of mind's adornment, as ye are the lustre
 Of Sparta's matchless race!

 _Ste._                     Now he is off.
 Will gallop with us to what ditch he choose.

 _First Senator._ Speak, Biades.

 _Bia._                         Of Agis then, my lords,--
 This newly raw offence,--be my first word.
 And I'll not stay for garnish. Truth is bare,
 And bravest so. Though 'twas my Helot guise
 Drew Agis' insult on me, think you, sirs,
 It fell upon a proud and free-born Greek,
 And who is here that could with putting on
 A slave's vile dress put on his nature too,
 Drain off his ancient, high nobility,
 And in one brutish instant lose the blood
 That made his fathers heroes? Is there one?

 _First Ephor._ We grant you, none.

 _Bia._                            Your hearts then struck my blow,
 Therefore must pardon it. If Agis' death
 Falls from it, 'tis but accident that sleeps
 In every motion, and in mine awoke
 Untimely. Who, so shorn of wisdom, thinks
 That I, a suitor here for barest life,
 Meant him a vital stroke that would o'ercry
 My prayers and make a mock of suppliance?
 I'll mourn with you, my lords, but ask you wring
 The neck of Fate, and leave my head where 'tis
 To praise the just of Sparta.

 _Third Senator._             So we might
 But for the heavier charges that engage
 The sighs of mercy 'gainst you ere they blow
 This deed a pardon. What of Decalea?

 _Bia._ That was a ruse the Spartans taught me, sir,
 When at Eleusis they ensnared my troops
 Within the gates, and naught passed out again
 Save rivers of their blood. If I must die
 For Decalea, die you with me, men,
 For red Eleusis.

 _Fourth Senator._ This is justice too.
 I saw Eleusis. He is clear on that.

 _Ste._ I warn you, senators! The fleetest wit
 That pauses on his guile is honey-mired
 And ne'er gets farther.

 _First Ephor._ We'll not keep his road
 An inch past justice, but we'll go so far.

 _Ste._ So you resolve, but Hecate at his smile
 Would plod beside him like a market lass,
 Forgetting vengeance.

 _Bia._               Honored Stesilaus:----

 _Ste._ Honored? Ay, Biades! With gibe and jeer
 That shook the walls of Athens! By my staff,
 I'll----

 _Bia._ Noble fathers, hear me for yourselves,
 Who, loved of Pallas, in this council sit
 Her earthly heirs and nature's demigods!
 This rage of Stesilaus is itself
 Sanction and seal for my adoption here,
 A son of Sparta.

 _Ste._          Ha! Now he would drive
 The mares of Diomed!

 _Bia._              My lords,----

 _Ste._                           Prove this?

 _Bia._ Why made you Stesilaus head and tongue
 Of envoy unto Athens? For you thought
 His mind, most apt, fluidic, politic,
 More quick than danger, would take shape of need,
 Repairing your defense fast as you found
 Your safety cramped. If I o'ercame him then
 With wit that watched with sleepless spear at door
 Of Athens' housèd trust, must you not crown in me
 The quality held sovereign in him?

 _Ste._ You hear, you elders,--must!

 _Bia._                             Ay, must,--and must!
 Or at the fontal spring of justice break
 Your cups and thirst. No alien dripple may
 Content you then.

 _First Senator._ We listen, Biades.

 _Bia._ When swords of an uneven temper meet,
 Who scorns the better proved? Nay, you do set
 Your love upon it,--in your armory
 Give it a burnished place. And I who crossed
 With Stesilaus, for my triumph ask
 To be of Sparta's armor.

 _Ste._                  Our dead shall answer!

 _Bia._ They shall. For every heart my steel made cold,
 Is proof how well I served my Athens,--proof
 Of loyal heat with which I'll serve the State
 That makes me hers! A true-bred Greek, outthrust
 And homeless, seeks a foster-land, that he
 May lift for her his sword, nor wasteful let
 The chiefest virtue in him die unused
 While his lost name no more climbs to the gods.

 _Second Senator._ Would you ally with us 'gainst Attica?

 _Bia._ I'm yours for that. By th' mother of the sea,
 Her tears shall wash your feet!

 _Third Senator._               What way wouldst take?

 _Bia._ The way to Phernes and the Persian fleet
 Now boastful before Rhodes. Grant me a convoy,
 I'll forge with Persia Lacedæmon's sword,
 And cut the crest from Athens.

 _Fourth Senator._             We have failed
 With Phernes.

 _Bia._ You'll not fail again. He's sworn
 My friend.

 _First Senator._ Our ships are few.

 _Bia._                             But Corinth holds
 Her sea-wings spread for any need of yours.

 _Ste._ Hear me, ye warriors! He will lead
 Our force afar, then stir up neighbor foes
 To scourge unarmored Sparta! Think that one,
 Cradled in silk and fed on nectared drops----

 _Bia._ There, sir, I'm bold to say you're off the road
 Of truth. My nurse was of your people, brought
 From sterner Sparta for my orphan rearing,
 By my good uncle Pelagon,--a man
 Ye know your friend. From her wise hands I took
 Your doughty-nurturing bread, and broth black-brewed,
 That drives the shade of fear from veins of men.

 _Ste._ I've bread now in my wallet. Let us see
 Your teeth in 't.

  [_Takes out a piece of coarse, stale bread and offers it to
      Biades_]

 _Bia._            Pardon, sir! I do not hunger.
 A Helot shared with me.

 _Ste._                 'Twill keep till you
 Would sup. But, you must try our broth, sir. Pulse
 Is seething yonder. Youths, bring here a bowl.
 We have a guest who'd call his childhood up
 In good black brew. Hark, Lenon!

      [_Whispers to Lenon, who goes off left_]

 _Third Ephor._                  It is truth.
 Amycla was your nurse. I know the year
 That she was sent to Athens.

 _Bia._                      On her lap
 I learned a love for Sparta that returned
 In warrior days to blunt my assaulting sword
 And wound me from your side. She taught me too
 The lyric wafture that dead hero-lips
 Send on undying,--songs your young men sing,
 And old men flush to hear,--and as a youth
 I longed to make my civil Athens street
 Echo to Sparta with a brother's call.

 _Third Ephor._ But I am moved.

 _Fourth Ephor._               And I.

 _Ste._                              Art grown so old
 You'll feed on pap again? Come, Biades,
 A song Amycla taught you! One will prove
 Your love remembers Sparta.

 _Bia._                     Sir, I'm not
 Your zany.

 _Ste._ But you'd make my country one,
 To antic for you.

      [_Re-enter Lenon with bowl of broth_]

 _Ste._ Here's your portion, sir.
 Amycla made no better. Will you drink?

  [_Gives bowl to Biades, who regards the black mixture dubiously. All
      are silent, watching him. He looks at Pyrrha_]

 _Bia._ [_To Pyrrha_] Is 't poison?

 _Pyrr._ [_Stolid_]                It may be.

 _Bia._ [_To Senators_]                      Your will's in this?

 _First Senator._ It is.

 _Bia._ If this be pledge that binds me yours,
 Fellow of board and field, I drink long life
 To our compact. But if death waits here,--to you,
 O comrade shades, and our good fellowship!
                                    [_Drinks. The Spartans applaud_]

 _Ste._ You lean to him, and Sparta topples with you!

 _A Young Man._ [_Entering_] Agis is up! He comes! And bears no grudge
 For a good Greek blow. Says you could give no less.

      [_Enter Agis_]

 _Bia._ High Zeus, I thank thee! Agis, thou dost live
 To take my pardon and to give me thine! [_They take hands_]

 _Ste._ So soft?

 _Lys._         Better than blows.

 _Ste._                           Ha! Like disease
 He'll spread the woman till our eyes drop tears
 Instead of fire. When Spartan eagles moult,
 They'll go no farther than Athenian owls.

 _Lys._ He's valiant.

 _Ste._              There's no braver tongue.

 _Lys._                                       And friend
 To Phernes.

 _Ste._ So he says.

 _Lys._            Nay, that's well known.

 _Ste._ My captain comrades, and ye aged fathers,
 If ye had seen him strut, a vanity
 As brainless as the monkey at his heels,
 With woman velvets making slut of wealth
 Trailing foul dust,--a peacock fan at 's cheek
 Where a soldier's beard should grow, and bangled ears
 Whose swinging jewels tickled a white neck
 Soft as a harlot's pillow,--this at time
 His city laid such honor on his head
 As would have kept a brave man on his knees
 For wisdom to uphold it,--had ye looked on this,
 Ye'd call the weakest maiden from her wheel
 To lead our wars ere trust to Biades!

 _First Ephor._ A picture this,--shakes faith.

 _Second Ephor._                              We trust too far.

 _Ste._ Sirs, had ye seen what I but paint----

 _Bia._                                       My lords,
 I'll wrestle with the stoutest Spartan youth
 That makes your wars most dreaded, and these limbs,
 Now shrunk with fasting, wasted and forsook
 By Fortune that once fed them as her own,
 Will prove my right to captain Sparta's host!

 _Ste._ Our women could undo you, girl of Athens!
 Meet his bold brag with this. One of our maids
 Shall throw him! Ay! Then he'll betake his shame
 To any shade will hide it.

 _Hie._                    Sir, I sue
 To lay this boast.

 _Agis._           My prayer be first, my lords!

 _Voices._ A lot! A lot!

 _Ste._                 Nay, sons, a fall from you
 Would give him hope to pick his honor up
 And steal again to favor. He will plead
 That you, full-fed, met him in famished hour,
 When Fate hung him with bruises leeching strength,
 And gave you victory. Let my offer hold.
 A maiden to him, and we'll hear no more
 Of valorous Biades.

 _First Ephor._ We are agreed.

 _Second Ephor._ Who is our strongest maid?

 _Lys._                                    We've six whose claims
 Push equal. All in public game have won
 The bow of Artemis.

 _First Ephor._     We'll choose from these.

 _Bia._ Olympus, shower me woes! I will not cringe,
 So they be man's. But save me from a mock
 That makes misfortune past seem sweet as drops
 From Hera's healing cup!

 _Dia._                  A mock? The gods
 Have never honored you till now.

 _Myr._                          See these,
 My bantling? Arms that made Kalides wear
 A three months' bruise!

 _The._                 And these have locked the strength
 Of Lenon in defeat!

 _Dia._             Ask Mirador
 If he liked well the sandy bed I gave him.

 _Nac._ Bethink you now how you'll outcrow disgrace,
 For you'll be short of breath when you've gone through
 The brash I'll give you.

 _Dia._                  Then he'll show his reefed
 And wattled skin, and say that want of bread
 O'ercame him, not our valor.

 _Art._                      Look you, maids!
 His hollow eyes do beg some pity of us.
 We'll give him yet a chance, and mate him with
 Our lame Coraina. She's near well again.
 Will drop her crutch to be our champion.

 _Bia._                                  Zeus,
 Behold me patient! Furies, though I lack
 Some vaunting flesh, the sharpest ill that on
 My body ravins feeds a spirit that
 Might meet with Heracles and give him need
 Of both his arms!

 _Dia._ Ha! Better! Maids, his tongue
 Will fight yet!

 _Ste._         Peace! The ephors choose
 That Dianessa bear this honor off.
 She threw strong Mirador, first of the youths,
 Which puts her o'er the rest.

 _First Ephor._               We've else determined
 That with the fall the Athenian forfeits life.

 _Bia._ And if I win, my lords? Since life must pay
 Defeat, should victory not solicit me
 With counterpoisèd prize?

 _First Ephor._           We shall accept you
 Leader and comrade, and give escort fair
 To bear your suit to Phernes.

 _Lys._                       More! The maid
 Shall be your bride, and bind you son and brother
 To Sparta's love.

 _Second Ephor._ You, Stesilaus, assent?

 _Ste._ Since without risk you may pursue your folly,
 I'll not oppose you.

 _First Ephor._      Dianessa, you
 Abide our will?

 _Dia._ And welcome it. 'Twill work
 Like Mars in me, and make my arm
 The gallows of his fame. The Athenian lady!
 I'd choose a husband among men.

 _Bia._                         And I,
 My generous, dear lords, would woo and win
 Some mute and humble maid. I would not force
 The noble Dianessa bend her head
 To one unworthied by a hostile Fate.

 _First Ephor._ Tut, sir! If Fortune's love returns with heat
 That makes you conqueror, by that same sun
 Her pride will melt, and you will find her meek
 As gosling in your hand.

 _Second Ephor._         'Tis settled so.
 Wear what you win.

 _Pyrr._ [_Rising_] Ye reverend men, and you,
 My noble father, may my suit reveal
 My love to Sparta and your love to me,
 Which has not spoken in this act of yours
 That overpeers me and gives up my due
 To Dianessa.

 _First Ephor._ Ha?

 _Pyrr._           Though Mirador
 Was forced below her, never in a bout
 Has she ta'en honors from me, while I oft
 Have left her down.

 _Second Ephor._    Speak'st truly?

 _Pyrr._                           Hear herself
 Avouch it.

 _Dia._ Ay, you overmate me, but
 The gap between us will not cast the match
 To Biades. And I was chosen.

 _Fourth Ephor._             Nay,
 You must give place.

 _Pyrr._             I've other reason, sir.
 It is my dear, war-honored father lays
 This match on Sparta, and my pride of house
 Would bear his counsel through the act that sets
 The sage's seal upon it.

 _First Ephor._          A daughter, sir!

 _Ste._ Bare duty might so speak.

 _Pyrr._                         This gives me warmth
 My maiden comrades lack. By every vein
 My father gave me, his time-laurelled brow
 Shall never wear a garland less!

 _Second Ephor._                 Well sworn!

 _Pyrr._ And for I saw----

 _Third Ephor._ More reasons?

 _Pyrr._                     --the rude shame
 The Athenian put upon the ambassadors,
 And mine own eyes bore him in lowest semblance,
 Demeaned from manhood, his dishonor wrapped
 In purple cost that left it yet more naked.
 I swear he shall not honored lead our wars!
 If our gray heroes fail us, we have dames
 To choose from,--need not go to Athens!

 _First Ephor._ This speaks! The victory's won where courage makes
 Such stout provision.

 _Pyrr._              If I fail, my lords,
 Then gods are mongers and their favors sell,
 Denying honest prayers.

 _Lys._                 Come, Biades.
 Art ready?

 _Bia._ Ay, long past!

 _First Ephor._       Your places then.

 _Ste._ Delay you! Biades, with modesty
 Unlooked for, but most fit, you gave up claim
 To Dianessa.----

 _Bia._ Nay, 'twas but an offer
 Whose bounty met refusal.

 _Ste._                   I'll accept it
 In Pyrrha's name.

 _Bia._           So prudent against loss?
 This caution, sir, gives me a victor's heart.

 _Ste._ Triumph is hers a certain thousand times,
 And yours a dicer's once, slipped you between
 Hiccough and snore of gods at shutting time.
 But since that once will have a thousandth chance
 To trouble me, I'll grant you free of Pyrrha.

 _Bia._ Wait till 'tis begged. Lysander spoke with kind
 And equal honor, which did soften me
 To leave his daughter his. And others here
 Have tendered me the gentle looks that breed
 The answering benison till hearts of earth
 Feel heaven's element. But you, whose hate
 Should hiss from crawling shape, not upright man's,
 Wake fires in me that eat through godly patience
 And sweep to battle. I'll endure no further.
 Back with your taunts! And if 'twill make you sore
 Where pride is daintiest, I'll your daughter wed
 Because she is your daughter!

 _Ste._                       Bark, you puppy,
 But you'll not carry it!

 _Bia._                  Were she featured foul
 As snaked Medusa,--her brow a hanging night,--
 Her figure hooped as age when chin and toes
 Are neighbors,--and of speech so scaly, harsh
 As Stesilaus,--I, with no more color
 Or shade of reason than that you deny me,
 Would make her bride. The ephors gave their word,
 And what I win I'll wear!

 _First Ephor._           We'll see you do.
 Content you, Stesilaus. None will weep
 To know your bluff soul matched. To place! To place!

      [_They wrestle. Pyrrha loses. Silence, then applause for Biades_]

 _A Lord._ My heart upheld him, for I know him brave.

 _Another._ I saw his dripping sword on Theban plain
 Cut through the knotted fray and make two fields
 O' the combat.

 _Another._ He can pray too, Delphi knows!

 _Another._ But when his gallant prayers their action find
 The gods themselves rage in them.

 _First Ephor._ [_To Pyrrha_] Daughter, take
 Fair thanks from us for brave support of Sparta,
 And having lost, more thanks for giving her
 Another soldier. Has defeat made soft
 Your heart for swift espousal?

 _Bia._                        Let me woo
 In slower way, good father. Tho' my boast
 Rose high 'gainst Stesilaus' scorn, I'm not
 Of heart so rash that I would lose her love
 By taking it. With Sparta's aid now mine,
 I'll ask her choose a noble guard and sail
 With me, that I, by time and fortune graced,
 May win a double suit, herself and Persia.

 _First Ephor._ We'll think of it. Our plans are still unthreshed.
 Come with us, Biades.

  [_Ephors, with senators and Biades, lead the way over bridge. All
      follow except Stesilaus and Pyrrha_]

 _Ste._               How was 't he won?
 And he was livid famine! Scurfed with weeks
 Of beggary! While you--such arms had saved
 Antiope from Theseus!
            [_Pyrrha droops silent_]
                      Up, my daughter!
 We'll make this fall our hope. You shall take sail
 With Biades----

 _Pyrr._ Gods hear me, no!

 _Ste._                   You will.
 I know his aim. He will betray our force
 To Athens,--pardon's price. Athenian ease
 Is in his marrow like a siren sleep,
 And all this hardy show is but to buy
 His languors back. You'll watch within his ship,
 With Hieron a second secret eye,
 And when his treachery ripens, take command
 And bring him bound to Sparta.

 _Pyrr._                       Be so near?
 Sail in his ship?

 _Ste._           Be near him as a wife.
 Watch close. Lie in his thoughts, though not his bed.
 And if he presses to the shrine of favor,
 Here is my dagger. This will be your guard.
 Let him meet death upon it,--and that death
 Be honor's sanctuary. Come! My brow
 Must smooth submissive to the senators.
 Clear too your face with summer policy.
 Thus openly we'll hide. The State's turned fool,
 And naught between her and perdition save
 An old man and a girl! [_Exit_]

 _Pyrr._ [_Gazing at dagger_] If this cold blade
 Were seeking traitors 't might look in my heart.

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT IV


SCENE: _On board a galley off Athens. An open door left of centre, rear,
shows a moonlit sea. Cressets burning within. Pyrrha discovered, seated
and fingering a dagger. A diminishing sound of dipping oars and rowers
singing._


    God of the bold who ride
      With song o'er their dead
    Whose unsown graves wait wide,
      The singers' bed,--
    Poseidon, befriend, befriend,
    And the good wind send!

    The sirens are on their rocks;
      Like a piercèd moon
    Weeping her gold, their locks
      To the waters run.
    Poseidon, befriend, befriend,
    And the good wind send!

    Fleet are the foam-toothed hounds
      That hunt unfed,
    With hunger that aches like wounds,
      And ships their bread.
    Poseidon, befriend, befriend,
    And the good wind send!

      [_Enter Lysander_]

 _Pyrr._ Lysander! You? Is 't battle?

 _Lys._                              At dawn we move
 Upon the Athenian ships.

 _Pyrr._                 They've come from harbor?

 _Lys._ Nay, lurking still, fear-cabled to the land,
 Like weanlings round a skirt.

 _Pyrr._                      At last a battle!
 And Biades is true. The watch is done.
 I'm sick of spying, hanging on him like
 A doubt with teeth. He leaves this galley then?

 _Lys._ Commands from the _Ino_, now so brave repaired
 She sits her place as though the sea and air
 Debated who should claim her, and she no more
 Adorns both elements than herself's adorned
 By our young admiral.

 _Pyrr._              He is gone? So soon?

 _Lys._ Went, but is here again, and here must stay
 These next three hours or more.

 _Pyrr._                        Why so, Lysander?

 _Lys._ We sacrifice aboard Thrasyllus' ship,
 Where now the captains gather, and the hand
 Of one who leads the foe to his fathers' hearth
 Would cloud the omen. He must keep apart.

 _Pyrr._ You've told him that?

 _Lys._                       We have not dared.

 _Pyrr._                                        Not dared?
 Way, Spartan lions, for the Athenian puppy!

 _Lys._ He's tender with his honor.

 _Pyrr._                           His honor!

 _Lys._                                      Soft!
 We shunt all danger if you mew him here
 Unwitting of our hand.

 _Pyrr._               I do not wear
 Athene's ægis on my jerkin, friend.

 _Lys._ You can divinely drug his vanity
 Without immortal aid. Attach him by 't,
 For free he'll chafe. Drift with him in such wise
 He'll not suspect our rudder.

 _Pyrr._                      Ay, more lies.

 _Lys._ Truth is no absolute virtue. 'Tis a vice
 If 't takes a screw from safety.

 _Pyrr._                         There is law
 Higher than Sparta utters. If not so,
 What mean our altars, and a kneeling world?

  _Lys._ Hmm! I delay the sacrifice. Dost know
 I take my Dianessa? A virgin's hand
 Must weave the victim's garland.

 _Pyrr._                         Ah, the moon
 Of Artemis! A virgin's hand. They ask
 Not mine?

 _Lys._ You are a bride in Sparta's eyes.
 Would Truth might speak it too! For Biades
 Has won all love but yours.

 _Pyrr._                    I'll wed no traitor.

 _Lys._ What? He is false?

 _Pyrr._                  Ay, false to Athens.

 _Lys._                                       Phut!

      [_Enter Hieron_]

 _Hie._ How like you this, sir? Biades has stripped
 The galley of its rowers,--sent them all
 To his gilded _Ino_,--every boat in charter
 To bear his trappings,--parchments, maps, and gifts
 From Phernes,--curtains, instruments----

 _Lys._                                  The stuff
 Goes with the admiral, and what other way
 Than by the boats? Say naught of 't.

 _Hie._                              This a time
 To spend a feathering!

 _Lys._                Nay----

 _Hie._                       And why send all?
 A half--a third--had answered. There's not left
 An oarsman on the galley save the men
 Who brought you from the _Thetis_.

 _Lys._                            You've the guard,--
 Yourself its head. Give Biades his way
 When prudence pays no cost. We've hedged and hemmed
 His wrestling will until his pride is brashed
 To the rebel quick----

 _Hie._                Sst! He is here.

      [_Biades stands in door_]

 _Bia._                                Lysander,
 They hail you from Thrasyllus' ship. You stay
 The rites.

 _Lys._ [_Troubled_] But is it time----

 _Bia._                                Full time.

 _Lys._                                          My boat----

 _Bia._ Is waiting.

 _Lys._            I--you, sir----

 _Bia._                           You'll bear my grace
 To our priestly captains?

 _Lys._                   You stay here?

 _Bia._                                 I shall,
 If you'll not press me other. As you pray
 For clearer omen and a morning battle,
 Let only those whose land holds them untainted
 Stand in the holy ring.

 _Lys._                 Above our prayers
 This act will speak to Heaven in Sparta's name
 And make her gods your own.

 _Bia._                     If that might be,
 Lysander! To have no altars is a fate
 Man can not bear for long.

 _Hie._                    The rowers, sir!
 How soon do they return?

 _Bia._                  They've leave to see
 The midnight toward with their fellow crew
 On the _Ino_.

 _Hie._       Midnight!

 _Bia._                Loyal beggars, all.
 They're sad to lose their captain, and I pay
 Their grieving flattery with this stinted lease
 From duty here. They'll use 't in prayerful rite----

 _Hie._ Not prayer! The casks will drip too free for that.
 If any prayers come from the heart to throat,
 They'll downward wash again, not out and fly.
 Say'st midnight, sir?

 _Bia._               I do. They will return
 In time to set the galley from the cast
 Of morning danger.

 _Hie._            Move again? The ship
 Is now to rearward, by some rods.

 _Bia._                           She is.
 And shall go farther. Here's no fighting deck.

 _Hie._ Ay, these soft cabins, Corinth-modelled as
 A prince, would make a floating holiday,
 Put soldiers from their place.

 _Bia._                        The ship must lie
 Full east, on th' safest wave. We've treasure 'neath
 These sails that make their weathered woof more dear
 Than threaded gold of Hera's mantle.

 _Hie._                              Ah,
 You mean the women.

 _Bia._             No,--a woman. Come,
 Lysander.

 _Lys._   Sir, what time wilt take your place
 Aboard the _Ino_?

 _Bia._           Give me till the midnight,
 I'll from that moment be your admiral.
 But for these gentle hours that lie between,
 I would as merest man use their light wings
 To chase a hope through heaven.

 _Lys._ [_With a glance at Pyrrha_] And bring it down,
 My lord!

      [_Exeunt Lysander, Biades, and Hieron_]

 _Pyrr._ Now, Impudence, no more's to do!
 Go up and take thy crown. Before my eyes
 He teaches them he wooes me, and my pride
 Mutely abets his guile. [_Holds up the dagger_] My fine defence,
 Thou'rt warder to a bosom unbesieged.
 In Biades' contempt I have a guard
 That saves thine office. Go, you glittering mock!
  [_In a passion of resolution she throws the dagger through the door_]
 That's done. No matter. He does not look at me,
 Or looks as though his eyes begged pardon of him,
 For their chance stop on nothing.

      [_Re-enter Biades, the dagger in his hand_]

 _Bia._                           Here's a toy
 Caught from the rigging. Yours, I think.
      [_Offers it to her. She does not take it_]
 It must be dear. I've seen you fondle it.
 Is it not yours?

 _Pyrr._         It was.

 _Bia._                 Then is. And worth
 Your keeping. A good blade, though Spartan plain.

 _Pyrr._ I'm weary of it. In Athens I shall find
 Another pattern.

 _Bia._ [_Testing blade_] Fine and strong. Will wear
 A hundred years, then make a door for death.
      [_Turns it against his heart. She starts_]
 You'll take it, Pyrrha. To throw it to the sea
 Were waste for an Athenian.

 _Pyrr._                    Keep it then.

 _Bia._ You give this blade to me?

 _Pyrr._                          I care not. Keep
 What you have praised.

 _Bia._ [_Pressing it against his cheek_] A gentle weapon,--but
 I've somewhat 'gainst it.
      [_Goes to door and throws it far into the sea_]
                          Kiss the waves, my friend!

      [_Returns to Pyrrha and sits by her_]

 _Bia._ [_Softly_] I leave the ship to-night.

 _Pyrr._ [_Uneasy_]                          And time you led
 The fleet to battle. You've excused delay
 Till palling breath became the shroud of action,
 And yet refused it funeral.

 _Bia._                     I know
 How you have doubted. O, this soul of Sparta,
 That can not trust! It peeps from every eye,
 Deepest where kindest. Tags each friendly word
 With its unspoken dread,--and comradeship,
 That strives to wrap it in a gala cloak,
 Strains vainly round the huge, dun doubt, agape
 In dreary revelation.

 _Pyrr._              You are free
 To leave us.

 _Bia._ Free? Five Spartan nobles watch
 Beside me, move with every step, for so
 The admiral must be honored! Hieron
 Foregoes his place at sacrifice to serve
 My dignity. Not for his gods he'll put
 A furlong 'tween us.

 _Pyrr._             He's the ship's good eye.
 And all the men except the lords of guard
 Are, by your grace, a-neighboring. Would you leave
 The galley without watch?

 _Bia._                   No, Pyrrha, sweet.
 But I would woo you with no ear at the door.

 _Pyrr._ [_Rising_] My lord!

 _Bia._ [_Indifferent_] Nay, then. I can't oppose the sex
 Of Aphrodite. My one frailty.

 _Pyrr._                      One!

 _Bia._ What? I have more?

 _Pyrr._                  The moments of your life
 Are not so many!

 _Bia._          Gods be thanked, I'm young!
 How may I change to please a Spartan scold?

 _Pyrr._ Be anything you're not.

 _Bia._                         You have not heard
 I am the admiral of the Spartan fleet,
 With Persian Phernes yonder at my beck,
 Broad-winged with all Phoenicia? You know not
 I am a general?

 _Pyrr._        Oh, to be that name,
 Not make 't thy bauble! What dost know
 Of secret, sleepless hours, and delving thought
 That nations may lie safe? By what grave right
 Wear you the title? What deep sacrifice?

 _Bia._ Leave sacrifice to fools and women! Ay,
 More lies are huddled in that saintly word
 Than ever smirked outside it. The strong soul
 Low bowing there, lies to his god,--the weak
 Lies to the world behind a holy shield
 That turns the spear of justice. Pallas, hear!
 A general makes himself a master, lest
 The State make him a servant.

 _Pyrr._                      True in _Athens_!
 But you've another name. I've heard you called
 The young philosopher. Play you at that.
 'Twill tire naught but the tongue. Yours will go far.

 _Bia._ Nay, spare me toil of spirit searching through
 Earth, sea, and sky for phrases magical
 To wrap creation in, as 'twere a babe
 Each man might call his own could he but find
 Some good-wife fancy to deliver it.
 No other hope?

 _Pyrr._       They name you poet, too.
 Build round your spirit an Elysian cheat
 And buzz it through upon a golden wing.
 Is that not idle enough?

 _Bia._                  You touch me now
 With flattery's gold point. I wince and love
 The pain. Yet I'd not be a frolic breath
 At play with Spring and florets in the dew,
 Or move in rhymèd courtesies before
 The smile or frown of gods. Trick my dear soul
 In May-day rags to catch a languid eye.
 Babble of moods and minds, how some think this,
 Some that, and some have never thought. Drone how
 On such a day one struck another down,
 Or led a fleet, or laid a city wall.

 _Pyrr._ What would you sing then, pray?

 _Bia._                                 I would not sing.
 Was there not poetry before men spake?
 I'd go behind the broidered veil we've wrought
 Before the face of one that we loved much
 And then forgot for beauty of the shroud.
 The old lere's lost, the new but irks our dream.
 We listen to ourselves, while round us ever
 Are worlds that vainly pluck us to their doors,
 Giving us sign in lightning, heat, and wave,
 In flake of snow, flint-spark, and crystal rock,
 In stones that make the iron creep, and color,
 Fair flag and challenge to our shuttered minds.

 _Pyrr._ [_Moving nearer_] Oh!

 _Bia._ [_Seeming to forget her_] Round our lives is life whose destiny
 Is that frontier no word of ours has crossed,
 But man to come shall plant and harvest there,
 Where his soul sets the plough.

 _Pyrr._ [_Softly_] You know that too?

 _Bia._ That life shall warm his barest common way
 Of in and out. In field and market-place,
 He'll lay his cheek 'gainst its unbodied love
 And flush translations of its silent touch.
 Then will be poets! Thought that now must fail
 In bird-wing flight, shall from a violet's eye
 O'erlook the sun. Till then I will not sing.

 _Pyrr._ Not fight, philosophize, or sing!
 What's left for an Athenian?

 _Bia._ [_Remembering her_] Love, fair Pyrrha!
 You know the tale how Chaos once uncurled
 Her laboring bulk from round a fire-leafed rose
 And sent its petals drifting down to fields
 Where mortals foot with chance? Whoso they touch
 Are lovers always, and one came to me.

 _Pyrr._ Now here's ambition! And you live for that?

 _Bia._ Ay there's the charm contents me with dull earth,
 And puts a rainbow in my listless hand.
 The way is pleasant if the road be love's,
 And I'd not shorten it by one maid's eye.
 To be a lover,--that's the graceful thing.
 Then one moves velvetly, forgets no curve,
 And lives his picture, line and color true.

 _Pyrr._ That rôle's struck from your play, you'll find, my lord.
 Maidens will smile, but scorn will set the lip,
 And women's eyes be warm, but hate their fire
 For you, the traitor.

 _Bia._ Traitor?

 _Pyrr._ [_In the door_] See the gleam
 On Athens, yours no more. The softest breast
 Within her walls is steel when you are named.

 _Bia._ But there are maids in Sparta.

 _Pyrr._                              Not for you,
 A traitor to the soil that gave you life.

 _Bia._ That soil first cast me off.

 _Pyrr._                            A mother strikes
 Her child, but should the child return the blow
 Gods would droop eyes and blush.

 _Bia._                          But were I true
 To my own land, I should be false to yours.

 _Pyrr._ A virtue that. A maid might love you then.

 _Bia._ A Spartan maid?

 _Pyrr._               A Spartan maid. But now
 We hold you as no more than loathèd bait
 To capture Athens. Used as a stuck fly
 To hook a chub!

      [_Enter Hieron_]

 _Bia._ What saucy fury sports
 With Hieron? His even smile's unfixed
 As the middle of two minds.

 _Hie._                     Sir, Phernes sends
 Six maidens from his ship to dance before you.
 The noble Persian chooses time most fit
 For wantoning,--the hour of sacrifice
 And battle prayer.

 _Bia._ You're justly kindled. What
 Though it be royal custom in his East,--
 A grace from king to king,--to garnish danger
 With frillet of relief that makes death seem
 The last-dropped toy, we'll dare to let him know
 That we are Greeks, and walk the edge of graves
 With eyes upon the gods. Go, pack them off!

 _Hie._ Why,--so I meant. The act struck rudely on
 Our ritual hour. But if his Eastern mind
 Paints it a courtesy----

 _Bia._                  A sovereign honor.

 _Hie._ He is of haughty blood,--burns at rebuff----

 _Bia._ Ay, like a hornet blind. A thousand times
 I've eased his fret and run his humor's mould
 Like summer wax, lest he should break from Sparta
 That stood in rigid ruin. Now I leave it!
 His anger can be put to gentlest sleep,
 But 'tis no babe when stirred. Choose as you will.

 _Hie._ The honor is to you. Be yours the answer.

 _Bia._ I'm worn with him. Three hours to-day I played
 His vanity, while chance touched either side,
 Waiting the word that should cut through suspense
 And seal him ours for battle.

 _Hie._                       To huff his pride
 'Tween this and dawn would poorly soothe our own
 At an uncertain cost. But let him leer
 I' the oracles' face....

 _Bia._                  He has not sent Alissa?

 _Hie._ There's one so calls herself. Spoke out the name
 As we should fall before it.

 _Bia._                      She's most free
 In Phernes' heart. Knows all the honey-ways
 To his secret soul, and what is said to her
 He'll hear ere morn. As you love victory,
 I hope you met her gently.

 _Hie._                    If surprise
 Made greeting harsh, I will undo that harm
 With softer welcome. And beseech you, sir,
 To suffer this mistimed civility
 For Sparta's sake.

 _Bia._            I will, dear Hieron,
 Since 'tis your suit.

 _Hie._               Thanks, thanks, my lord.

 _Bia._ Let them come in. I'll see their briefest dance,
 And give Alissa one commending word,
 Which straight as faithful bee she'll hive
 In Phernes' ear.
            [_Exit Hieron_]
         What think you of it, Pyrrha?
 You do approve me?

 _Pyrr._ Approve your wits, my friend.
 Had they been Spartan trained, you'd bring them off,
 Untarnished still, from argument with Zeus.

 _Bia._ When Pallas praises, bow.

 _Pyrr._                         Poor Hieron
 Is now the sweating agent of your will
 To see these callets dance.

 _Bia._                     Unpitiful!
 I'd touch my lips to Lethe, and you'd snatch
 The oblivious drop from me! You know how dear
 The bond that shall be cut with sword of dawn,--
 So close no seer may tell which shall bleed most,
 Athens or her lost son.

 _Pyrr._                Art low at last?

 _Bia._ Dun, dun, my Pyrrha, as a Barbary pigeon!
 So low not all my pride can vaunt me up.
 Then let me have my wine,--the draught of eyes,
 Of music and of smiles, till I be drunk
 And sleep.

  [_Enter six Athenian youths, led by Clearchus, all disguised as Persian
      dancers. As they dance before Biades his pleasure quickens to
      abandonment_]

 _Bia._ Ah, Pyrrha, you've denied my heart
 All noble love, but here's a pleasure left.
 Soft eyes and gentle bosoms may be mine
 Where scorn is taught to sleep and never sting.
 ... That is Alissa. We must honor her.

  [_He signals Clearchus, and the others pass out, leaving him to dance
      alone. As he ventures more flirtatiously about Biades, Pyrrha's
      disgust increases and she retreats. Clearchus, dancing mockingly,
      follows her to door, and when she has passed through audaciously
      closes it_]

 _Bia._ Now! Quick! In name of Zeus! The senators
 Received my message?

 _Clea._ [_Darting to Biades_] Ay, the answer's here!
                                     [_Gives him a parchment_]
 Full pardon! Athens will lay down her walls
 To make your entry proud! Her gates are small,
 For honor she intends you!

 _Bia._ [_Glances at parchment and sobs_]
 My Athens! Mine! Though she should take my life,
 And my bruised body fling unburied forth,
 Yet would my shade drop kisses on her soil
 And weep to leave it for Elysium! [_With sudden control_]
 What of my plan?

 _Clea._         Adopted, in each item.
 Soon as the dropping moon is in the sea,
 The Athenian rowers, coming as your own,
 Will board this galley and bear her a bird
 To th' harbor nest.

 _Bia._             They've force to meet the guards?

 _Clea._ Thrice measured, sir. The _Theia_----

 _Bia._                                       My own ship!

 _Clea._ Your own--will meet you, every sailor true
 As when he wept your banishment. And Phaon,
 Critias, Pelagon, Antiganor,
 With twenty senators and men of name,
 Wait on her deck in welcome.

 _Bia._                      Back, ye tears!
 The rowers know my signal?

 _Clea._                   Yes, my lord.
 Three cressets on the left,--set here in this
 Embrasure. They will watch, near as they dare,
 And instantly as darts your triple gleam
 Their oars will sweep you answer.

      [_A commotion without_]

 _Bia._                           Hist! What's wrong?

  [_Enter Hieron and Pyrrha. Hieron goes to Clearchus and tears off
      his veil and head-dress_]

 _Clea._ O, pardon! I'll confess!

 _Hie._                          'Tis you, my lord,
 I now unmask, not this bought wretch.

 _Bia._                               What, sir?

 _Hie._ Your Persian dancers are Athenian boys,
 All slim as lizards. We o'er-eyed their steps,
 And on suspicion gave them such a pinch
 The truth flew out.

 _Bia._             Their guilt does not prove mine.
 Is it my crime that Athens touched me near
 With bribe of pardon?

 _Pyrr._ Hear the boy. You are
 Clearchus? And of Athens?

 _Clea._                  I am.

 _Pyrr._                       You brought
 His pardon. Did he welcome it?

 _Clea._                       He did.

 _Bia._ He lies! The coward lies!

 _Clea._                         He did agree
 That Phernes should draw off his fleet and join
 With Athens.

 _Bia._ Oh! Where are the Olympian thunders
 That they now let you live?

 _Hie._                     Draw off his fleet
 To-night?

 _Clea._ Ere dawn.

 _Bia._           That such an atom--such
 A trifle of a body could enclose
 So great a lie!

 _Clea._        The Persian is at watch,
 Waiting the signal----

 _Bia._                Toad!

 _Clea._                    If pardon came,
 Two cressets set----

 _Bia._              I'll shred him!

 _Clea._                            At the left----
 Just here, my lord, would start the Persian ships
 For Athens.

 _Bia._ Oh!

 _Clea._   But if three cressets burnt,
 Then he would hold to Sparta.

 _Hie._                       Three?

 _Clea._                            Three, sir.
 Look in his bosom if you'd read the proof.
 His pardon's there.

 _Bia._ By the altars I have lost,
 By Sparta's yet unwon, I swear he lies!

      [_Pyrrha snatches the parchment from his bosom_]

 _Bia._ You bat--you mole--you cur-born flea----

 _Clea._ [_To Hieron_]                          O, sir,
 Your mercy! Save me from him!

 _Hie._                       Wait without.

 _Pyrr._ Full pardon! Bring the irons! We are sold!
 Irons for Biades!

 _Bia._ [_Accepting defeat_] Ay, let me wear
 My honor's livery. Every foe-locked gyve
 Will be my country's kiss, and make my blood
 Flow proud beneath it. Irons! Load me down,
 Now that you know me man, and not the thrall
 Of vilest fear that buys suspected breath
 With a mother-city's doom.

 _Pyrr._                   I'll grant you, sir,
 That by this act you do no longer lie
 In the unconsidered trash of estimation,
 But have crept up in my surprisèd mind
 To where I keep my jewels of regard.
 That is soon said,--but for the rest, you die.
 And more than die, for we shall hurl your name
 A palsy over Athens.

 _Bia._              You'll not fight
 Athens and Persia!

 _Pyrr._           Persia is not lost.
 Your signal is unlit.

 _Hie._               But we'll light ours!
 Three cressets----

 _Pyrr._ [_Stopping him_] Wait! The event's too great
 To helve with such slight word. That snivelling blab
 May've lied, or crossed the signals, for the young
 Are easiest dyed in craft, and take its hue
 As natively as innocence doth wear
 Its smile in sleep.

 _Hie._ What then?

 _Pyrr._          You'll go to Phernes.

 _Hie._ There are no boats.

 _Pyrr._                   Tut, take the boats that brought
 Those purfled cymlings here. Their rowers too.
 Ah, Biades, you'll serve us still. And thought
 To trap all Sparta with this tip-toe bait!
 We have a saying. "Wit against the world,--"
 And there's another too, "The last lie wins."
 Hast heard it, Biades? We'll bear your word
 To Phernes that with dawn you move with him
 Upon the Athenian sails.

 _Bia._                  He'll hear no word
 From Spartan mouth. So 'twas agreed between us,
 To annul such move as this if chance should strip
 My bent of cover. I alone may reach
 His ear with Sparta's prayer.

 _Pyrr._                      We'll cast for proof
 Of that. If true, we shall remember, sir,
 That Sparta has won cities with no aid
 From Persia.

 _Bia._ You'll not go alone to meet
 The strength of Athens?

 _Pyrr._                Your far-wingèd name
 And sea-born battle-skill shall go with us.
 Your single arm's no loss, but in your fame,
 Yet ours to use, the Spartan strength
 Is doubled. Ha! They call us landmen,--say
 We must have feet on ground ere we can fight.
 But you they fear, bred to the wave, and first
 Of their commanders.

 _Bia._              Let me die, but leave
 My name unmurdered.

 _Pyrr._            It shall be outflung
 In challenge to the Athenians. They know well
 The sailor rabble loves you, and will oppose
 But half a heart to Biades. Some too,
 Of higher place, believe you wronged, and fear
 The angered gods will station on your side.
 By spearman Ares, you shall keep the oath
 Great-sworn on Sparta's ground, to set her lance
 Through Athens' triple shield! Ay, though you lie
 In irons waiting death.

 _Bia._                 The sunken souls
 Of deepest, damnèd Dis have never borne
 So vile a sting! You can not mean it, Pyrrha.
 Cast on my soul what Pluto would disbar
 From his fire-vaulted hell? I'll proudly die
 For treachery to you, but clear my name
 To Athens. Take not life and honor too!

 _Pyrr._ One you may save,--your life.

 _Bia._                               What do you say?

 _Pyrr._ Draw Phernes back to us, and you shall live.

 _Bia._ You offer me but death, knowing I could not live
 A traitor.

 _Pyrr._ You choose to die as one?

 _Bia._                           Oh, Zeus,
 All-giver, hear!

 _Pyrr._         What gain is death to you
 If reputation dies eternally
 In Athens' hate? Sparta will do as much
 As spare your life.

 _Bia._             Nay----

 _Pyrr._                   She shall nothing know
 Of this hour's lapse----

 _Bia._                  O, bitter stars! O, Death
 Past fatal!--reaching o'er thy charnel bound
 To usurp the immortal garden! Die a traitor!
 Never will dew from a forgiving eye
 Fall on my grave!

 _Pyrr._ Nor will the upbraiding gaze
 Of Heaven be more tender. For you chose
 To risk your country's life on turn of chance,
 Having no surety that drawn to danger
 You then could pluck her out. Ah, made her fate
 Your stake at dice, because, escaped the hazard,
 You'd toss with her to fortune! And your guilt
 Is heavy in her fall as though your hand
 Bore down her last defence and fierce untrussed
 Her heart to th' wolvish air.

 _Bia._                       Oh, Pyrrha, Pyrrha!

 _Pyrr._ Then why haste on to death? The noblest shades
 Will make no room for you where'er they walk.
 Why rush through the first gate to meet their cold
 Immortal scorn?

 _Bia._         But life with honor gone!

 _Pyrr._ If death could buy it, then 'twere wise
 To buy so goldenly. But that's too late.
 Choose life,--with honor such as Sparta lays
 On those who serve but her. This treachery
 That we've by hap unbagged in 'ts eanling hour
 Shall be safe snugged again. And cherished too!
 For in my eyes it is the one brave flower
 Of your most barren being. None shall know it,
 And Sparta, as she will, may laurels weave
 About your faith.

 _Bia._ But Hieron?

 _Pyrr._ [_To Hieron_] You'll swear with me? [_He hesitates_]
 In Sparta's name? [_Takes his hand_] And mine?

 _Bia._                                        No, no!

 _Hie._ I'll swear.

 _Bia._            Oh, not that price! No, till the end
 O' the world!

 _Pyrr._ Life, Biades, life!

 _Bia._                     I will not do it!
 Athens may singly conquer!

 _Pyrr._                   Then you die
 By Sparta's hand, and Athens holds your name
 Accursed through time. The irons, Hieron.

      [_Biades hunches despairingly, his face hidden_]

 _Pyrr._ [_Apart_] Gods! He will yield!

 _Bia._ [_Looking up_] I'll do it,--dare to live,--
 And Attica may call me what she will.
 A traitor breathes, and feels the blessed sun.
 He's ne'er so poor but can his housing find
 In alms-lapped Nature. Her unchoosing airs
 Ask not his name before they touch his brow
 And tell him when 'tis spring. He yet may dream
 In unrebuking shades, and birds will sing
 As liquidly as though he were not by.
 Food is yet food, and wine is ever wine.
 I will not die. [_Rises_] By Maia's son, I'll live!
 What is my country but the bit of earth
 Where chance did spawn me? 'Tis no treachery.
 We're traitors unto love, not hate,--to trust,
 Not doubt and slander such as Athens poured
 Upon me guiltless.

 _Pyrr._ [_Crossing to him_] So you've found a way
 To save both life and honor!

 _Bia._                      May a worm
 Not creep to cleaner dust? Pyrrha, be kind.
 Spare me the trampling foot.

 _Pyrr._                     We've lost an hour.
 You'll send to Phernes?

 _Bia._                 First we'll signal him.
 He may be setting off. We must despatch,
 For if he saw no sign he meant to draw
 His fleet from doubtful waters and give aid
 To neither side. [_Taking up a light_] Three cressets--that was true.
 When once these lights have spoken, he'll receive
 Your envoy as myself. Then Hieron
 May bear confirming word to him, and bring
 Assurance back.

 _Hie._ [_To Pyrrha_] You do not doubt?

 _Pyrr._                               Doubt now?
 Nay, Hieron. I'll trust him with his _life_.

 _Hie._ But----

 _Bia._ [_Trembling_] O, ye gazing gods, must it be done?
 In Athens' living heart set up the torch
 That leaves her a charred blotch where she lay white
 'Neath heaven and smiled up to sister stars!

 _Pyrr._ Come, Biades!

 _Bia._               Shall not the earth be lost
 To God's own eye when Athens, quenched, no more
 Marks where we wander? I can not do it!

 _Pyrr._ [_Taking the cresset_] Too late,
 My lord!

  [Fixes light in the open embrasure, then places two others. Biades
     falls back, mantling his face]

 _Hie._ To Phernes now! We must not boggle this!

 _Pyrr._ If you've a doubt, sir, look on that. [_Points to Biades_]

 _Hie._ I'll hasten back to you.

 _Bia._                         But note our light.
 The galley rowers may return ere you,
 And move us to the east.

 _Hie._                  I shall not lose you.

 _Bia._ What escort will you take? A noble one
 Will best please Phernes.

 _Hie._                   Mirador and Agis
 Shall go with me. Meanthes shall remain
 To be your watch.

 _Bia._           You'll tell them nothing?

 _Hie._                                    Sir,
 I've sworn. I shall say naught but this. That Athens
 Proffered you pardon, and you hold to Sparta.

  [_Exit Hieron. Pyrrha watches from the door until the boats put off.
      The sea is now dark. Biades takes up a harp and strums it_]

 _Pyrr._ [_Turning_] You can do that? And I--I held my heart
 At halt, there at the door, nor turned my head
 Lest pity should emburn my eyes to tears. [_Crosses to him_]
 Dost know that all the juniper in the world,
 Burnt in thy house of honor, would not cleanse
 Its doors of stench? [_Throws the harp aside_] And you can use that air
 For breath of song!

 _Bia._ Those are the bitterest words
 That ever dropped me gall, but I can find
 A crushèd balsam in them,--for they say
 You might have loved me, Pyrrha.

 _Pyrr._                         I might.

 _Bia._                                  You did.
 The moment that I cast my Spartan mask
 And showed me true to Athens, you were mine.
 That instant there was joy-fall on your heart
 That swept its icy sentinels with fire,
 And they were down. Oh, had I then proved staunch,
 Ta'en helmet off to death and bade him strike,
 You would have closed my eyes with kisses warm
 As rose-drift on a tomb----

 _Pyrr._                    Nay, I'd have kept
 Those eyes to be my light on earth, not star
 Elysian skies. Had fought for you against
 My mother Sparta. Fought as woman fights
 For her one love,--with wit and armèd tongue,
 And cunning that throws puzzle on the gods.
 Fought till subduèd Death had knelt to Fate
 And prayed your life for me!

 _Bia._                      Have I lost that?

 _Pyrr._ You yielded--sank--unlustred even your soul
 For a poor pinch of time----

 _Bia._                      But if some touch
 Of heaven could make me true again----

 _Pyrr._                               Look on
 Those lights, that you with single breath could turn
 To weeping smoke,--they've lit a quenchless wreck
 That all your sighs blow vain against,--a flame
 Ungovernable to remorse. Not furrowing winds
 That split the watery fields to Thetis' bed,
 And make a foamy Ural of her shore,
 Can sweep it out. Ay, groan and shake,
 And draw your mantle up! Behind a cover
 Thick as Taygetus' sides, I'd see you limned
 In shame!

 _Bia._ [_Springing up_] What's shame to love? To love fire-sprung
 From instant meeting of fore-strangered eyes?
 And such was ours, there in that Athens' grove.
 Imperial of itself, it asks no loan
 Of subject virtue's smock to drape it royal.
 As fen-born vapors seem to nest the stars,
 Yet far below them do but thatch the world
 When they look down, the vassal qualities
 May lift no touch to love, that yet must wear,
 To earth's unvantaged eyes, their reek and hue.

 _Pyrr._ Aerial love is but an earthling still,
 It must come down for food or mortal die,
 And what but virtues feed it?

 _Bia._                       Nay, you speak
 Of a fair, lesser thing,--a grace not lit
 From thurible in uncreated Hand,
 But coaxed from clay to a persuaded life.
 Garbed as the days,--patched, plastered, hung with dear
 Possessive vanities, it serves to make
 Contentment's bed, and cook a patient meal
 On comfort's hearth,--even snuggles in the void
 That else might ache, sings low, and makes
 Companioned feet tread bravely to the grave.
 It has a thousand names, but never one
 Is love. Be thine that white, ungendered spark,
 And naught can feed it, naught can make it less.
 Virtue and vice, nobility and shame,
 Are rags that drop away, while you sweep on,
 Stripped as a flame, with arms about your star.

      [_Pyrrha is silent. Both start at sound of a noise on the water_]

 _Pyrr._ What sound is that?

 _Bia._                     The rowers are returning.

 _Pyrr._ So quietly?

 _Bia._ [_Goes to door and closes it_] The world shall not come in
 On me and you. Be mine this broken hour,
 And Hieron may flute through after-time
 At secret doors where you lock up your favors.
 For you will go with him.

 _Pyrr._                  A prophet too?

 _Bia._ You'll make his home, but I shall come and go
 The unseen master there.

 _Pyrr._                 Now for the vision!

 _Bia._ You'll watch your door,--the unheard step is mine,--
 And rock the babe born of a dream of me.
 And I, far-wandered, lost unto myself,
 Shall never lose you, Pyrrha. As the light
 Wrapping the wave reveals its silver dance,
 My being shall exult through shade and wear
 The chlamys of your gleam. Your voice behind
 The wind shall draw me lover-lipped to meet
 Adventure's breath. You'll lie upon the hush
 That girdles evening,--be the thrill within
 The throstle's note, and silence when
 His song is done.

 _Pyrr._          Nay, it will speak of Phania,
 Of Sybaris.----

 _Bia._ Ay, and a hundred more
 In whom I've sought for thee, my Pyrrha, always thee!
 'Twill speak of them as statues speak of shards
 About their feet,--the sculptor's broken dreams
 That made the perfect one.
                    [_The ship rocks_]
 _Pyrr._                   We're moving!

 _Bia._                                 Yes,
 You know,--to safer waters. Listen, Pyrrha,
 To me--to _me_!

 _Pyrr._        Those sounds----

 _Bia._ [_Kneels_] Hear _me_! My head
 I'll votive lay till you may set your feet
 Like tangled roses in my curls----

  [_Pyrrha springs toward the door, but Biades is before her. The noises
      increase. Groans, blows, shouts_]

 _Pyrr._                           Aside!
 I'll pass!

 _Bia._ O, save our bones. I am the stronger.
 You know 't.

 _Pyrr._ You! I'll wind you like a thread!

 _Bia._ You didn't.

 _Pyrr._           Didn't....

 _Bia._                      When we wrestled.

 _Pyrr._                                      When....
 Oh, _then_! My arm was lame. Come, I will pass!

 _Bia._ Nay, 'twas your heart that spared me!

 _Pyrr._                                     Ay, like this!

  [_Throws him aside. He staggers against the wall for support. She
      opens door. Two soldiers in armor silently oppose spears to her
      passage. She slowly closes the door_]

 _Pyrr._ Where are we going?

 _Bia._                     You love me. What an arm!
 'Twas never lame!

 _Pyrr._ Come! Tell me what's our port,
 Then I shall know one place we do _not_ go.

 _Bia._ Tut, love! Pry into men's affairs? Be calm----

 _Pyrr._ What does this mean? [_Advancing_] I'll know!

 _Bia._ [_Retreating_] You shall! It means
 "The last lie wins." We go to harbor.

 _Pyrr._                              Ah!...
 Those rowers....

 _Bia._          Faithful and fleet as ever bore
 An Athenian general home. They came upon
 Your signal----

 _Pyrr._ Mine?

 _Bia._ They lay at watch, not Phernes.
 Look on those lights! O, trinal star, set high
 By my beloved! My honor's flaming hedge----

 _Pyrr._                                    You fly,
 But in a net! The Spartans heard those shouts.
 They are in chase--you'll see----

 _Bia._                           They're unprepared.
 The captains off their ships, the guards in doubt,
 And oarsmen half asleep. But let them come
 Far as they dare, and if they dare too far
 From Persia's shelter, the Athenian fleet
 Will close like jaws about them.

 _Pyrr._ [_Sits, with sudden hopelessness_] You have won,
 My lord.

 _Bia._ I have.

 _Pyrr._       What will you do with me?

 _Bia._ I'll wed thee, sweet.

 _Pyrr._                     I'll not----

 _Bia._                                  Yes, love, you will.
 There is a dagger hangs in Phelas' shop,
 Shall be your bridal gift. A prizèd blade
 Of coppered gold, hued like a battle morning.
 Smooth-cheeked as Artemis, although inlaid
 With pictured tale. A captured Amazon,
 Wrought palely in alloy,--a silvered fear
 On th' bronzen flush of courage,--bows before
 Her conqueror, a knight who gently bends
 As I do now----

 _Pyrr._ [_Thrusting him off_] No! Never! I'll not trust
 Your dolphin nature! Long as fish have fins
 You'll sport in every sea! Go--go to Phania!

 _Bia._ [_Turns angrily from her_] Ay, by my gods that I have found again,
 I shall wed none but an Athenian maid!
      [_Pyrrha swoons. He rushes to her_]
 Her heart is still. O, curse my double-tongue!
 She's dead--she's dead! She takes the Spartan way--
 To die, not yield! Oh, Pyrrha, Pyrrha, Pyrrha!
      [_Rushes about distractedly_]
 I will not live! I'll leap into the sea!

 _Pyrr._ [_On her elbow, as he reaches door_] You might catch cold.
                                       [_He stares at her. She sits up_]
         Is this your grace in love?
 Your pictured ease, with no dissuasive line?

 _Bia._ O, Pyrrha, peace! Let us be done with cheat
 And mockery!

 _Pyrr._ [_Rising_] My heart on that, my lord!

 _Bia._ Own thou art mine! My world when sunsets die!
 My breath of meadows lying past the moon!
 Compassionate this earth, and in my soul
 Fix thee its centre. Say thou'lt come!

 _Pyrr._                               My lord,
 Could I be sure....

 _Bia._        Ah, Pyrrha, there's no light
 Falls from thine eye that does not sway me like
 A bee in rose wind-shaken. I am thine.
 There'll be no battle, but a nuptial feast
 With three great armies for our brothered guests.
 Your land and mine are one. Give me your hand.

 _Pyrr._ I will. For Sparta's sake.

 _Bia._                            And love's!

 _Pyrr._ [_Giving her hand_] And love's.

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT V


SCENE: _The garden of Pelagon, as in first act. Enter youths and maidens
dancing about Pyrrha and Biades. They sing:_


    Hymen, god of bended knees,
      Who would gain to thee must lose!
    Take from us thy merry fees,
      Though our fairest thou dost choose,--
    Pyrrha and our Biades!

    Fling the garland and the wreath!
      Roses, roses consecrate,
    That upgive their happy breath
      In an ardor 'neath our feet,
    Kissing fortune in their death!

    Sparta's won, and Athens' wed!
      Shyest hours of midnight, bring
    Charm and blessing for the bed
      Whence a fairer Greece shall spring
    And her golden peace be bred!

  [_They dance off, lower right, as Pelagon and Stesilaus enter middle
      left_]

 _Pel._ Ha, neatly sung! By Hermes, they have made
 A tickling in my sandals.

 _Ste._                   Frivol!

 _Pel._                          Eh?
 Nay, youth must wind his horn----

 _Ste._                           Not in my ears!

 _Pel._ Though he never come to the hunt. But Biades
 Has run the chase, and's bravely home again,
 The game in pack.

 _Ste._ Too noble game for him!
 My girl! That I should ever play the sire
 To a fop of Athens!

 _Pel._             If the burn's so raw,
 You've secret salve for it.

 _Ste._                     Yes. 'Tis not my blood
 That so forgets its source!

 _Pel._                     Sh! Stesilaus!
 A little butter on the tongue, my friend,
 Does no man harm.

 _Ste._           Butter a hackle, not
 My tongue! If I'm so rubbed, I'll rasp the winds
 Till they sprout ears. Don't "sh" me, Pelagon.
 I'll muffle in no corners.

 _Pel._                    Hist, I say----

 _Ste._ Don't zizz into my beard! We are not curs
 To nose and smell in council!

 _Pel._                       Ruin's on us!
 You will be heard----

      [_Enter Menas, upper right_]

 _Menas._             Joy to the noble fathers!
 Sweet saviors of our city!

 _Ste._                    Sweet!

 _Menas._                        What says
 Our Stesilaus?

 _Pel._        Ahem! The Spartan joy
 Is ever dumb. But see him stirred to heart
 That by a gift from out his very life,
 His dearest daughter, peace is home in Athens,
 And's forced no more to camp and cadge and beg
 At our shut gates. Yet it goes hard to part
 Wi' the fairest branch on's tree.

 _Menas._                         In Biades
 He finds a treasured son.

 _Ste._                   By a mermaid's shoes,
 A precious son!

 _Menas._ How, sir?

 _Pel._            Indeed, indeed,
 A jewel of a son! Will you, friend Menas,
 Float with the senators, and bring to shore
 Report of how they drift,--what currents favor
 And what now counter us?

 _Menas._                I'll go, my lords,
 To hear the latest honor they conclude
 Best caps your fame, and bring it in a word. [_Exit Menas_]

 _Ste._ I had two minds to throw the truth in 's face
 And see him strangle on it.

 _Pel._                     Friend, wouldst make
 My old knees creak to earth? I sue to you
 Be soft as prudence. Shall we now be false
 To our dearly tended hope--united Greece?
 Now when the fact is on us, and our dream
 Walks in the day? I beg you clear your heart
 Of selfish fire that eats the very pattern
 Of love's new world. It is ungraced, perverse
 As altar flame that would devour the shrine
 'Twas lit to honor.

 _Ste._ Think of Greece? What's Greece,
 When my own daughter pairs with----

 _Pel._                             Nay, but mine.
 When you are bitterest set, say to yourself
 She's of my loins, and when more softly taken,
 Then call her yours. But openly be constant
 To a father's right in her, and proudly sire
 Her honors. And 's for Biades, he's but
 A brocket yet, his antlers barely bossed.
 My oath upon it, your reshaping hand
 Firm-cupped about his overweening spring,
 Will be a second cradle where he'll grow
 Fair to your fashion. Think on that.

 _Ste._                              I will.
 There's comfort. Ay, so, so. The terms of peace
 Make him a Spartan. Pyrrha stood with me
 Stout-willed on that.

 _Pel._               Then whist! You trust your wife?

 _Ste._ You speak to Stesilaus.

 _Pel._                        Eh, I know
 You've her in hand. My Sachinessa now-- [_Sighs_]
 But she loves Phania best. That locks her tongue.
 And, friend, do you not see the high all-ruling Will
 Has moved behind our own?

 _Ste._                   I think it so.
 Our aim achieves its heaven, though we smart
 Beneath it. To the outer glozing fame
 That now attires us splendent, we may add
 Inmost applause. When we exchanged our babes,
 'Twas for this end and day, and had we held
 To our first intent and taken our own again,
 Our hope had died unfruitive. 'Twas there
 That deity came in and shifted us
 To th' true sybillic course.

 _Pel._                      Who dares say else?
 We'll wear the issue as a sacred robe
 Fallen on us from Olympus.

 _Ste._                    Which our wisdom
 Fits comely to us. Forget it not, such gift
 Had been withheld from minds too poor to be
 The heirs of Zeus.

 _Pel._ But if the clay-eyed mob,
 Whose pottage traffic up Olympian paths
 Blocks commerce godly and invisible----

 _Ste._ Tush, cut the string, if you have aught in bag.

 _Pel._ Why, I would say if some of grosser sight
 Than our two selves, should fumble on our secret
 That Pyrrha is Athens born----

 _Ste._                        Nay, put your fears
 In pocket. It shall not be known.

      [_Enter Biades_]

 _Bia._                           Ha, nunky!
 Where is my happy father? [_Sees Stesilaus_] A suit, my lord!
 I've Pyrrha's leave to make our home in Athens
 If thou wilt bless our dwelling. Crave thy grace
 For sake of her in whom thy pride best flowers!
 Here she'll o'erlay all Spartan crudity
 With suavest bloom, and take e'en native place
 Where Athens' love would set her.

 _Ste._ Never, sir! [_Exit, middle left_]

 _Bia._ The gray fox snaps. Ho, but I'll draw his teeth,
 And he shall yelp for 't too!

 _Pel._                       Shame, sir! Not give
 The road to him? The father of your bride?

 _Bia._ I will when she's his daughter.

 _Pel._                                What! What, boy?

 _Bia._ I say when she's his daughter. Let that in
 At your good ear, and in the t'other one
 I'll call _you_ father.

 _Pel._                 Ruin! It's come!

 _Bia._                                 Who thinks
 I'd make that Spartan grunt my father, knows
 Not me! What? Set that boding beard at head
 Of my Athenian house? Or go to Sparta
 To hut me where I would not ask a stall
 For a borrowed horse?

 _Pel._               But----

 _Bia._                      Scratch my helpless throat
 With bread a pig would stick at? Swallow brew
 Of salt and soot? And chafe my pumiced skin
 With itching linsey?--or an untanned hide,
 As man were still the beast that wore it?

 _Pel._                                   Peace,
 My son----

 _Bia._ Say grace for leeks and goose-foot?

 _Pel._                                    But----

 _Bia._ Though Eros pinned me head and foot with shafts,
 I've saved my eyes, bless my united wits,
 And know the high-road! I'll not lose me on
 A pig-trail to a sty.

 _Pel._               But if these Spartans hear
 They'll sack the city! Zeus deliver us!
 We're lost! we're lost! Oh, Biades!

 _Bia._ [_Calm_] Talk in a muff, good father Pelagon,
 Or we indeed are lost.

 _Pel._                You'll keep the secret?

 _Bia._ A time. I've plans in seed will make all Sparta
 A garden for my Athens, where her fame
 Shall browse to its tallest. Trust me, Pelagon.
 I'm still a general!

  [_Enter, lower right, young men who surround Biades, and press him off,
      singing_]

    Gander now must keep with goose!
      Biades, O, Biades,
    Thou shalt ne'er the cord unloose,
      For the mighty god decrees
    He shall hang who dares the noose!

      [_Re-enter Stesilaus_]

 _Ste._ He's gone? I took
 My anger off where it might safely blow.
 This path brushed clear by Heaven must not be closed
 By our stumbling selves. The widgeon! He would fly
 Above the eagle, but I'll snip his feathers,
 Give me good time! He'd live in Athens, ha!
 And swore on Hera's altar he would be
 A son of Sparta!

 _Pel._          Nay, I noted, sir,
 That Sparta was not named in 's oath.

 _Ste._                               What now?

 _Pel._ Naught, naught, my friend! Yet he but swore to make
 The land of Pyrrha his.

 _Ste._                 And what meant that
 But Sparta? If his warm wooer's oath must cool,
 We've winters that will do it.

 _Pel._                        Caution's best.
 Slow-mare will get you home.

 _Ste._                      A year or two
 Of good black bread, and free winds on his skin
 Will take the maiden from his cheeks and set
 A true man's beard there. Tush! I thought that Fate,
 Granting my main desire, gave me this plague,
 Which, with the rest, now proves my life has pleased
 High arbiters. You're silent, Pelagon.

 _Pel._ No, no! Yes, yes! I think so. 'Tis indeed!

 _Ste._ Come, come, my friend! We will go forth and meet
 The occasion as a guest, bethinking us
 We walk between mankind and deity.

  [_They start out and are met by Alcanor and Phania who fall before
      them_]

 _Pha._ [_Kneeling to Stesilaus_] Your blessing, father!

 _Alc._ [_At Pelagon's feet_] Blessing, dearest father!

 _Pel._ What, what!

 _Pha._ [_To Stesilaus_] Forgive your child!

 _Alc._                                     The priest----

 _Ste._                                                   My child?

 _Alc._ The priest has made us one.

 _Pel._                            What priest? Who dared
 Defile the altar with such rite?

 _Alc._ [_Rising_]               Defile?
 Though you're my Phania's father, you shall cast
 No stain upon that holy ceremony
 Whose odor yet is round us. Sir, the priest
 Has blessed us. Do you as you please. Come, Phania!
 Come, sweet! We'll smile at this. Though a father's curse
 Bethorn our way, a gentler heaven will drop
 Its soft approval where thy feet must pass. [_Going_]

 _Pel._ Speak, Stesilaus! Stop your wretched son!

 _Alc._ Not wretched, sir, while Phania is my own.
 We shall be blest when you, too late, beseech
 Unhearing gods forgive you this!

 _Pel._                          Stay, sir!
 O, miserable boy!

 _Pha._           No, father, no!
 He's happy in my love as leaf in air,
 As the sea-crystalled fish, as lotos in
 Its pool,--and I--O, sir, my joy has wings,
 And tho' I love you dear and daughterly,--
 Who gave me life,--your anger has no weight
 To keep my feet on earth. Like twirling lark
 Too high for storm to reach, I dance above
 Displeasure's cloud. [_Trips off with Alcanor_]

 _Pel._ Sweet wretches! Here's a turn!
 My little Phania! Friend, what shall we do?

 _Ste._ Again the finger of the gods.

 _Pel._                              The gods
 To limbo! I will save my daughter!

 _Ste._                            Yours?

 _Pel._ Yea, by each hour of prattle at my knee!
 By all my care that's been her constant nurse,
 And every joy that from devotion sprang
 To meet me like a flower as she grew,
 She's mine, mine, mine! Oh, Stesilaus, oh,
 Whosever she may be, I love the chick,
 And she shall not be damned!

      [_Enter, upper left, Sachinessa and Archippe_]

 _Ste._                      Here's a reproach
 Comes with a dual mouth. If we show doubt,
 They'll put us under pestle. Rally, sir!

 _Sac._ [_To Archippe_] Are you all lump? Pick up your courage. Why!
 The gods are gods by their audacity.
 I'll bring it off. Now, Pelagon?

 _Pel._ [_Who has turned to flee_] What, you,
 My love?

 _Sac._ Such heavy news! Enough to make
 The gods no more co-venture with a world
 Augmented so!

 _Pel._ What, Sachinessa, what?

 _Sac._ Our Phania's married to Alcanor.

 _Pel._                                 Eh?

 _Sac._ Now are you pleased? Now is your cruelty
 Full-fed, or must it glut again?

 _Pel._                          My sweet----

 _Sac._ You'll meddle with high Zeus! Have you enough?

 _Pel._ Oh, Sachinessa!

 _Sac._                Brother and sister bound
 In an abhorrent union that will drive
 Their shades forever from Elysian ground!
 Nay, even Hades will make fast her gates
 'Gainst such offenders, innocently vile!
 Archippe, speak to that unbending man,
 Half author of this shame! I'd thin his beard
 If Heaven had mocked me with his long, smug face
 For husband! Ugh! The whiskered horse!

 _Arc._                                Dumb, sir?
 You've no defence?--no master argument
 To prove your wisdom's never off the road
 To Zeus' gate? Not once in all your life,
 Although your daughter's to her brother wedded?

 _Ste._ 'Tis well. I can not doubt the gods.

      [_They stare at him_]

 _Arc._                                     Her brother born?
 So foul a hap?

 _Ste._ A thing too dread in thought,
 And in the act unutterable if Zeus
 Be unconcerned in it. Therefore believe
 His hand here moves, and holy majesty
 O'errules the mortal scruple, so dividing
 This horror from its kind. May it not be
 The blood of Stesilaus hath in 'ts flow
 A heavenly tinct that makes it not a sin,
 But rather virtue, to keep pure the stream
 From baser founts? They've done no more than kings
 And gods before them.

 _Sac._               Pelagon, _your_ croak!

 _Pel._ I take a lower ground, my dearest dove.
 All Athens knows me modest----

 _Sac._                        Ay to that!
 Can blush as deep as any crow that flies!

 _Pel._ Now, now! From first to last I've held it truth
 That breeding scantles birth, and on that count
 Make Phania our daughter.

 _Sac._                   Oh, you do?

 _Pel._ I stand on this, that training is the man.
 Or woman, let us say, and not the blood
 We buried with our fathers. So these two
 Mate not ancestrally, but in their lives
 That distantly upbred have not between them
 A structural thread to bind them of one house.

 _Sac._ What men are these?

 _Arc._                    I am no more afraid
 Of him I thought was Stesilaus.

 _Ste._                         Listen,
 You women. Though we are thus righted----

 _Sac._                                   Humph!

 _Ste._ In man's and Heaven's eye, we yet will bow
 To your own wish in this. As once we gave
 Your sighs the right of way, we now will ease
 This second woe by taking swiftest means
 To part this clucking pair.

 _Sac._                     You'll yield to _us_?

 _Arc._ How like you, Sachinessa, this high place
 Above the gods?

 _Sac._ They shall be parted?

 _Ste._                      Ay,
 We do consent.

 _Sac._ Nay, you shall please yourselves.
 For my own part, I will not break their bonds
 And set their hearts a-bleeding.

 _Arc._                          No, nor I.

 _Ste._ How now, vapidity?

 _Arc._                   I mean, my lord,
 You have convinced me, and this marriage bond
 Shall be as Zeus has made it.

 _Sac._                       Pelagon,
 Your reason captures mine, and I repent
 My mockery. This strange event's no more
 Uncouth, now you have pried the way for me
 To wisdom's bed of truth. I clearly see
 Thai man and woman of one mother born
 May be no kin. The marriage shall stand.

 _Pel._ In name of Zeus!

 _Arc._                 Yes, in his name.

 _Ste._                                  Nay, wife,
 We know your simple heart, and read its horror
 Through this pretence so suddenly clapped on.
 We shall reject a forced and sad submission----

 _Pel._ Ay, ay, we shall! I'll act at once, and stop
 Their kisses, riveting a bond unblessed----

 _Sac._ Unblessed?

 _Pel._           My golden joy, I speak your thought
 Not mine.

      [_A clamor in street_]

 _Ste._ They come for us.

 _Pel._                  I hear my name.
 We'll out and greet them.

 _Ste._                   No, my friend.
 Let them come in unnoted.

 _Pel._                   Ay, we'll sit
 Withdrawn, in gentle argument. Here's shade.

  [_They go aside. Enter Lysander, Agis, Creon, Menas, and a score of
      Spartans and Athenians_]

 _Lys._ Is Stesilaus here? We must be heard.

 _Arc._ He's here.

 _Menas._ And Pelagon! Where's Pelagon?

 _Sac._ His good ear's toward, sir.

 _Pel._ [_Unable to keep aside_] Did I not hear
 My name?

 _Sac._ Why, so I said.

 _Agis._ [_Advancing to Stesilaus_] My lord, we come----

 _Ste._ What haste, good Agis? Goes the world so fast?

 _Agis._ As fast as Fate can drive it, and you, my lord,
 Are under foot.

 _Pel._ [_Who has been listening to Menas_] You hear it, Stesilaus!
 Athens is ashes! We're betrayed, betrayed!

     [_Biades, Pyrrha, Phania, Alcanor, and their companions
     swarm in, lower right_]

 _Ste._ Silence, and let us hear! Now, Agis, speak.

 _Agis._ And grieve that 'tis my part. The Spartans know
 Your treachery----

 _Ste._            Who dares to give such a name
 To deed of mine?

 _Agis._         Denial comes too far
 Behind the proof, my lord.

 _Ste._                    The proof? What proof?

 _Lys._ 'Tis known to all. The very curb cries out
 That Pyrrha is Athenian born, the child
 Of Pelagon.

 _Pyrr._    Oh, Zeus!

 _Bia._              Bear up, my Pyrrha!

 _Agis._ Ay, Athens weds with Athens, and on that
 You build the peace of Sparta! A bold deceit
 Of yours and Pelagon's, whereby we're sold
 To a foeman's pleasure!

 _A Spartan._           Though the heart of Athens
 Be in the knot that binds your traitorous bargain,
 We'll cut it through!

 _Agis._              Will you deny you changed
 Your babes in cradle?

      [_Silence_]

 _Bia._               Pray you, who revealed
 This ancient secret?

 _Menas._            Creon came----

 _Bia._                            Ah, Creon!

 _Menas._ Before the senate, then in seat to unfold
 From rivalrous invention, topless honors
 For these two lords, whose guilt had long devoured
 Such labor's root and reason.

 _Bia._                       Creon came?

 _Menas._ And bared the tale, made his by accident,
 And swore you knew it too,--that Pyrrha there
 Is Pelagon's daughter, and Phania is the child
 Of Spartan Stesilaus.

 _Pha._               Oh, oh, oh!

 _Alc._ A rope for me then!

 _Cre._ [_To Biades_]      Sir, I did not speak,
 But trusted all to you, until the secret
 Laid night on Phania's innocence and grew
 Too foul to keep.

 _Pyrr._          You knew this, Biades?

 _Bia._ And knew you would forgive!

 _Pyrr._                           This was the spring
 Of all your oaths! In my espousèd hand
 You'd lay my country's peace, knowing her name
 Was Attica! This was your proof of love.
 The oilèd wedge that let you in my heart!
 False in the trothal moment that should make
 The foulest for an instant pure!

 _Bia._                          But hear----

 _Pyrr._ Oh, in that hour which women wrap in rose
 And hide where thoughts like guardian doves may go,
 You set a cautel touching it with death
 That leaves me treasureless!

 _Bia._                      My Pyrrha,----

 _Pyrr._                                   Not yours!

 _Bia._ Howe'er 'twas done, I won you!

 _Pyrr._                              Won a Spartan!
 Now keep the shadow. As an Athenian maid
 I do renounce you! [_Escapes him_]

 _Bia._            Ah! Zeus loves the dice.
 He's always at the game. But who'd have thought
 This throw would be against me? Hear me, sweet!
                                          [_To Stesilaus_]
 Dear father, speak to her. She'll heed your voice,
 Your judgment ripe, and words set out like cups
 With wisdom's honey.

 _Pel._ [_Awake to fathership_] Ay, my son, I will!

 _Bia._ Not you, in name of hope! [_Follows Pyrrha_]

 _Alc._ Monsters of fatherhood, how dare you show
 Your faces in this sun? Go seek some cave
 Whose darkest den will not betray a shame
 Of its own hue! No, Phania, do not cling
 To my unwilling breast that now must be
 A hedge of swords to your bird bosom. [_Holds her tightly_]

 _Pha._                               Oh!

 _Cre._ Withdraw your hand, proud Spartan!

 _Alc._                                   I will protect
 My sister, sir, from any lord of Athens!

 _Sac._ Look, Pelagon,--and Stesilaus,--here!
 Look on this warbling joy hatched tenderly
 In nest of your conceit, which you've kept warm
 Forgetting you had hearts where love bechid
 Sat in unfeathered cold. If you are fathers,
 Drink of their ecstasy till every vein
 Applauds it!

 _Lys._ Pray you, peace! The Senators!

      [_Enter Amentor and other Senators_]

 _Ste._ What's your demand?

 _Amen._                   Your life, Lord Stesilaus.
 And that of Pelagon, in Athens' name.

 _Pel._ My life?

 _Amen._ Not less will still this wind and save
 Our homes from undefended sack. They've seized
 The citadel----

 _Bia._         Then on my armor! Wife
 May whistle when the bugle calls!

 _Amen._                          Stay, sir!
 The Spartans are in power, and any check
 Means slaughter. There's no help. The Persian fleet
 Has sailed. The Athenians drop their useless arms
 And follow at command, knowing no way
 To win but by a bloodless yielding.

 _Bia._                             Yield!

 _Amen._ Sir, we must grant the Spartans these two lives,
 Whereon they'll strike no further. So they swear.

 _Sac._ [_To Pelagon_] This is your downy Peace wooed from the clouds
 To hover over Athens! Save the name!
 She's from a briar-patch, not Heaven! Her wings
 Are full of burrs!

 _Bia._ [_Holding Pelagon_] Stand to! A scuttled ship
 Has no choice deck. There's nothing to be saved
 But dignity.

 _Pel._ Nay, that's for Stesilaus! [_Breaking away_]
 My life, my life!

  [_Noise mounts without. The wall is broken through, rear, and the
      breach reveals the street filled with angry Spartans_]

 _Amen._          Peace!

 _Gir._                 Give us Stesilaus!

 _Voices._ And Pelagon! The traitors! Give them up!

 _Amen._ You see them. There they stand.
            [_Misses Pelagon_]
                                        Where's Pelagon?

 _Voices._ We have him here! Bring Stesilaus!

 _Arc._                                      Hold!
 I am Archippe. Let me speak.

 _Voices._                   No mercy!

 _Arc._ I ask none, friends. The wife of Stesilaus
 Is not so much in 's debt she owes him aught
 On mercy's score.

 _Gir._           Then speak.

 _Arc._                      Is Philon here?
 The reverend priest?

 _Voices._ He comes! Make way! He's here!

      [_Philon comes out_]

 _Philon._ Speak first, Archippe. I'll follow you.

 _Arc._                                           My friends,
 I'm such a one as you do most contemn,--
 A woman disobedient to her lord.
 But if you judgment give upon that point,
 Remember that my lord is Stesilaus.
 When this my daughter here,--yes, Pyrrha, she,--
 Child of my nurturing blood,----

 _Voices._                       What? What? Your child?

 _Amen._ Silence! Speak on, Archippe.

 _Arc._                              When she lay
 A morsel cradled, two months' breath in her,
 Came he, the father, swearing she must go
 To Sachinessa's breast, and I must take
 Her Phania to my own,--thereby to serve
 In some occulted way the future good
 Of Greece. And all the mercy won from him
 Was leave to journey with my child to Athens----

 _Sac._ But I was not so meek! By Pallas, no!
 What--who--was Pelagon, to rob my bosom
 Of Hera's gift? Who made him greater than
 The gods? 'Tis but a girl, he said, to me,
 A mother! I went to Philon then, the priest
 Whom Athens honors, and by holy counsel,
 We did not change our babes, but let our deed
 Wear face that pleased them, with a heart our own,
 And home Archippe went with Pyrrha safe,
 While I in Athens held my Phania close.
 And they, fond sires, who knew no difference
 Between a _girl_ and _girl_, hugged their deep plan
 And built the phantom of united Greece
 Upon it.

 _Arc._ If those ghostly towers, now fallen,
 May rise again, it is our act, my lords,
 Provides them nature's base, and not a dream's.
 Condemn us, if you will, as erring wives,
 But as true mothers give us softer justice.
 And if there's scale or balance that can hold
 Such torturous weight, lay on it all the pain
 Of lonely years that saw me turn my face
 From my loved daughter, lest this man of rock
 Should know her mine and his.

 _Pyrr._                      Your own, your own,
 My mother!

 _Ste._ So you slip me, dame,
 And Pyrrha goes with you. But Biades
 Is under thumb by this same turn. He now
 Must know himself a Spartan, and shall keep
 My terms.

 _Arc._ Make them full easy. You shall lay
 No marring hand upon our children's joy
 As fell on mine.

 _Bia._          O, sue for me, Archippe!
 Give me my bride! Whatever be her race,
 Her home is in my arms!

 _Arc._                 Forgive him, Pyrrha.
 Not for his pleading, but for love I know
 You bear him.

      [_Pyrrha permits Biades to embrace her_]

 _Alc._ [_To Phania_] Sweet, we know our heaven by
 Those moments in a hell.

 _Amen._                 Here's feast enough!

 _Bia._ But poor old Creon in this rain of porridge
 Starves for a spoon.

 _Cre._              And you, perforce, take one
 Of Spartan make.

 _Bia._ I'm caught. But in love's lap.
 I'll swallow Sparta for so dear a bed.

 _Menas._ And you need fear no distaff tyranny,
 My lord. There you are safe. Although your bride
 Be Hera-limbed, you've proved yourself her Zeus
 In open match.

 _Cre._        How if her movèd heart
 Crept to her arm and slipped the victory
 Unwon to love?

      [_Biades is suddenly embarrassed_]

 _Pyrr._ [_With a caress of assurance_] If that were so, my lords,
 My pride would harbor his, and none should know
 My secret.

 _Ste._ Senators, and men of Athens,
 Art dumb when justice waits on you for voice?
 What censure have you for these rebel wives,
 And this unsainted priest?

 _Amen._ [_To Philon_] You counselled them
 To their deceit?

 _Philon._       I did.

 _Amen._               You've no defence?

 _Philon._ I need none.

 _Ste._                Ha!

 _Philon._                Whoso reveres the gods
 Draws of their strength in every mortal inch,
 And in this act I did them reverence,
 Standing between their wish and meddling wits
 Of these presumptive men. But pardon them.
 For it is shame enough to've thought to make
 A frislet of their own shake like the locks
 Of cloud-haired Zeus. For me, my hand is on
 My altar, and I fear no fall.

 _Amen._                      No more,
 Good Philon.

 _Philon._ Ay, a word, This morning, sir,
 I blessed the couple here, knowing them free
 Of kindred blood,--Alcanor and his Phania.
 The strands are doubly woven that now bind
 Sparta and Athens. Pyrrha and Biades
 Were first to link them one, and now this pair
 Unites them o'er.

 _Amen._          You hear, my Spartan friends.
 What say you? Is it peace?

 _Spartans._               Peace be to Athens!

 _Amen._ And peace to Sparta! Hearts and altars guard it!
 Go, citizens! See that the chariots
 Glow with new garlands for this double bridal.
 And let the noble wives of these proud lords
 Co-queen festivity. All shall rejoice
 Save this convicted pair,--you, Pelagon,
 And Stesilaus. You we prison here,
 Your own sole company, nor shall you speak
 Save in a rhyme now dim with little use,
 But shall be better known from this day forth
 With polish you shall give it. Hear it, sirs:

    _The man who would his own pie bake_
    _Must from his wife ten fingers take._

  [_Curtain falls and rises. Pelagon and Stesilaus are discovered,
      their backs to each other, the only occupants of the garden.
      Through the breach in the wall the festal procession is seen
      passing. Curtain_]


       *       *       *       *       *




KIDMIR

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS




_CHARACTERS_


 OSWALD, _Earl of Clyffe_
 BERTRAND, _sometime_ VAIRDELAN, _his son_
 CHARILUS, _a Greek_
 ARDIA, _his daughter_
 BIONDEL _and_ VIGARD, _sons of Charilus_
 BANISSAT, _Prince of Avesta_
 PRINCE FREDERICK
 BERENICE, _his daughter_
 GAINA, _serving-woman to Ardia_
 BARCA, _servant to Charilus_
 RAMUNIN, _a headsman_
 SEVEN MAIDENS, _friends of Ardia_

 _Followers of Banissat, soldiers of Oswald, nobles, wedding-guests,
 dancers, guards, &c._

 Time: _During the later Crusades_
 Place: _The southern coast of Asia Minor_




ACT I


SCENE: _A hall in the castle of Charilus on the heights of Kidmir. The
open rear, through which is seen a sunset sky, leads to a parapet
overlooking the city of Avesta and the coast of Suli. Entrances right
and left of parapet. Midway down, right, the door to a chamber._

_Charilus stands on parapet and looks down toward Avesta. Barca waits
within the hall._


 _Char._ O, sea-washed city, must the hail of fire
 Crimson thy milky walls, and salt winds strive
 In vain to sweeten ditches dark with blood
 From thy tapped heart? Come, Barca, be my eyes,
 Who climbs the heights?

      [_Barca advances and looks over_]

 _Barca._ Lords Vigard and Biondel
 Are on the pass.

 _Char._         My sons so soon returned!
 No other?

 _Barca._ Farther down, my lord, I see
 The knight, Sir Vairdelan.

 _Char._                   Then we shall hear
 His sunset song.

 _Barca._ The stairway through the cliff
 Is closed. Shall I give signal, sir, to hoist
 The upper gate?

 _Char._    That is my charge henceforth. [_Going left_]
 They will be hungered. [_Turns to Barca_]
                       Scant the board in nothing. [_Exit left_]

      [_Gaina enters, right, rear, carrying a tray piled with candles_]

 _Gaina._ Thank goodness, Barca, you're where you're wanted for once!
 Help me with these winkers. [_Giving him candles_] My mistress kept me
 out on the cliffs when I ought to 'a' been inside an hour ago doing my
 honest work. I got her in at last, but I had to be round with her, poor
 soul! I told her what!

 _Barca._ [_Placing candles_] She was watching for her brothers?

 _Gaina._ [_Puts tray down_] Brothers! It was a sight of that singing
 knight she wanted. He went down the pass this morning and she has gone
 about all day like a bird with a sore throat.

 _Barca._ God gave her eyes, and Sir Vairdelan is good to see. When I
 look at him I feel somehow as if the sun were just up and everybody had
 another chance.

 _Gaina._ A man who lets his sword rust at home while he goes about
 tootle-de-rooling on a flute! And she could be the princess of Avesta
 if she'd look in the right place. Well, if she had _my_ eyes!

 _Barca._ What! You would have your mistress marry Banissat? An
 unbeliever?

 _Gaina._ A prince is a prince,--and I'd say the same if my mistress
 were my own daughter.

 _Barca._ And you a Christian!

 _Gaina._ A Christian of Corinth, I'd have you know. There are Christians
 and Christians, please you! And for my mistress, dear heart, it would
 take more than marrying a prince to send her to--to----

 _Barca._ Let it out.

 _Gaina._ Hell, then,--if you want to bite ginger. And who but Banissat
 can stand between her father and that English Oswald--who is just plain
 devil and not an Englishman at all----

 _Barca._ Devil? A knight of the Cross leading the army of the Lord to
 Jerusalem.

 _Gaina._ Nobody but the devil, I tell you! And I wouldn't speak to him
 if I met him walking with Saint Peter, unless he showed me his bare feet
 with ten good toes on 'em. It might be all right for Peter, but a woman
 can't be too careful, and the master took me out of a good family in
 Corinth. And this Vairdelan who is no more a knight than I'm a lady--the
 next time he goes down the pass he will lose his way up again, or my
 head's a goose-egg, that's all!

 _Barca._ Gently, Gaina. You were young once.

 _Gaina._ Once? I've more hairs than wrinkles yet, which some can't say
 and tell the truth!

 _Barca._ Tongue in! Here's the master. [_Moves right_]

 _Gaina._ My candles!

    [_Seizes tray and goes out, right, as Charilus re-enters left_]

 _Char._ [_To Barca_] Look to the supper.
     [_Exit Barca, right. Charilus crosses to parapet and looks down_]
                                         Doubt-blown city, rest.
 Sleep on my heart. You shall not bleed for me.

      [_Enter Ardia from chamber midway right_]

 _Ard._ Alone, my father?

 _Char._                 Never alone, and yet
 My wish was calling thee. [_Sits, and draws her beside him_]

 _Ard._                   Ah, not one guard
 About thee?

 _Char._ The only guard is always near,--
 A fearless heart.

 _Ard._           Then I have none. My heart
 Is made of fears.

 _Char._          No charm but love will lift
 Our gates of rock.

 _Ard._            But who knows love from hate
 In days like these? Some foe with friendship's eyes,
 Some secret knife of Oswald's----

 _Char._                        None may tread
 The guarded pass save our knight Vairdelan
 And your two brothers.

 _Ard._                Vairdelan is late.
 Why went he down?

 _Char._ Knights true as he, my girl,
 Are never questioned.

 _Ard._ [_Starting_] Who are at the gates?

 _Char._ Your brothers come.

 _Ard._                     So soon? That means good news
 From Banissat. He'll be your strength against
 This mighty Oswald.

 _Char._            Fair his word may be,
 But I go down the pass.

 _Ard._                 Go down? To meet
 That fiend?

 _Char._ The man who calls himself my foe,
 But named of God my brother.

 _Ard._                      O, too much
 Thou lovest love! A fiend, I say!

 _Char._                          That name
 Give unto me when I consent to piece
 This spun-out life with breath of babes and gasp
 Of dying mothers. Would you feed these veins,
 Gelid and old, all golden venture done,
 With the warm waste of youth whose savèd stream
 Might bear mankind unto the port of gods?

 _Ard._ But you--you are my father!

 _Char._                           It is such cries
 Unsettle justice till her shaken scales
 Weigh nations 'gainst a heart.

 _Ard._                        Must I not love you?

 _Char._ My Ardia, fair as though thou wert not mine,
 Or wert all hers who made gray Corinth young,
 The love that feeds behind a sheltered door
 Must be unroofed and take its bread of stars
 Ere it may answer to its holy name.
 The heart must build no walls----

 _Ard._                           I build them not,
 But find them risen about me. You are here,
 Guardful and best, fending my eyes,--there stands
 My Biondel,--there Vigard brave,--and there....

 _Char._ And there, my daughter?

 _Ard._                         Hark! 'Tis Vairdelan's voice!

      [_Singing heard below_]

    O fires that build upon the sea
      Till wave and foam of ye are part,
    And burn in mated ecstasy,
      Ye build again within my heart.

    O clouds that breathe in flame and run
      In linkèd dreams along the sky
    In me the fire is never done,
      Though Eve's gray hand soon puts ye by.

    Christ be my Hand of Eve upon
      The flame that tireless, fadeless leaps!
    Haste holily, O Mary's moon,
      With dew for fire that never sleeps!

  [_Ardia keeps a listening attitude, not heeding the entrance of her
      brothers who come on left_]

 _Char._ Well, sons?

 _Bion._ Ay, well! That is the word we bring.
 Avesta's prince, the gracious Banissat,
 Is now your sworn defender.

 _Ard._ [_Turning_]         And asks no price?

 _Bion._ No more than your fair self, my sister.

 _Vig._ [_As Ardia stands silent_]              You doubt?
 'Tis true. He'll make you princess!

 _Ard._                             He is old....

 _Bion._ What call you old? He's in the fairest top
 Of manhood.

 _Vig._ Old!

 _Ard._     And cannot sing....

 _Vig._                        Not sing!

 _Ard._ What need have we of him? Can Oswald scale
 These rock-barred heights?

 _Vig._                    Starvation can.

 _Ard._                                   We've food
 Will last three harvest moons.

 _Bion._                       And Oswald camps
 Where plain and sea will feed ten thousand men
 As many years.

 _Vig._ While here our skeletons
 With bleachèd grin may watch the feast below!

 _Ard._ To starve ... is that so terrible? 'Tis but
 One way of dying.

 _Vig._           Dying?

 _Char._                Say no more.
 The morrow's dawn shall light my way to Oswald.

 _Bion._ You'll go to him? Then death!

 _Vig._ [_To Ardia_]                  See what you do?

 _Ard._ Forgive me. [_Runs to her father and clings to him_]
        Now! Bind me to Banissat.

 _Char._ Nay, thou art free.

 _Bion._ [_To Ardia_]       Our lives shall thank you.

 _Vig._                                               Thanks?
 You speak her part.

      [_Ardia leaves her father and moves to edge of parapet_]

 _Bion._ [_Following her_] Dost know a better way?

 _Ard._ I pray you, leave me.

 _Vig._                      Princess of Avesta!

 _Ard._ Your supper waits.

 _Vig._ [_Starting right_] Come, brother!

 _Char._                                 Though I've supped,
 I'll sit with you, my sons. Discourse is ever
 The best dish at the board.

 _Bion._                    We thank you, sir.

      [_Exeunt Biondel, Vigard, Charilus, right_]

 _Ard._ And am I wooed and won? Dreams of a dream,
 Where are ye now?... A lover with no song.
 No carols stealing sweetness from the moon;
 No trembling hand to drop a morning rose
 Where I may walk.
      [_Takes a rose from her bosom and casts it away_]
 No rose.... no Vairdelan!

      [_Re-enter Gaina_]

 _Gaina._ Here, mistress? Dearie dear, a-weeping?

 _Ard._ No.

 _Gaina._ Say you were, 'twere a better sight than this fetching of dry
 sighs. They 'most take the skin of a woe that a little tear-water would
 bring up easy enough.

 _Ard._ O, Gaina, Gaina, did you see my mother buried?

 _Gaina._ Ay, 'twas a sweet grave we laid her in over in Corinth. You'll
 never make as pretty a corpse, my dear.

 _Ard._ Was I there?

 _Gaina._ Troth, you were, and trouble enough you gave me. You wanted to
 climb into the coffin and go to sleep too, you said.

 _Ard._ O, had you buried me with her I should not have seen this day!

 _Gaina._ Most like you wouldn't. Come, honey dove, come to your room and
 brighten yourself a bit. There's the new veil just begging to be looked
 at. I'll put it on you, and----

 _Ard._ No, I don't want you. [_Going, right_]

 _Gaina._ O, ho, I can read his name you do want, and not kill a bird for
 it either.

 _Ard._ [_Turning_] Who, magpie? Who?

 _Gaina._ Your eyes may save my tongue if they squint sou'west.

 _Ard._ Is he coming?

 _Gaina._ Who, my cuckoo? Who?

      [_Bertrand enters left. Ardia starts off right_]

 _Ber._ Ardia!

 _Ard._ [_Weakly, pausing at her door_] Vairdelan....

 _Ber._ Will not you stay?

 _Ard._ I will return. [_Exit_]

 _Ber._ Your mistress is not well?

 _Gaina._ You've eyes, sir.

 _Ber._ This fear of Oswald----

 _Gaina._ Her trouble's nearer home, sir.

 _Ber._ Her father----

 _Gaina._ Nay, it wears no beard, though it may in time.

 _Ber._ What troubles her, dear Gaina?

 _Gaina._ A man, my lord.

 _Ber._ A man!

 _Gaina._ There, don't feel for your sword, for that's at home, and I
 never heard yet of spitting a man with a flute, though it may e'en go
 to the heart of a woman if she be young and soft like my mistress.

 _Ber._ The truth, Gaina!

 _Gaina._ I can spare it, sir. My master's daughter is so in love with
 you----

 _Ber._ Angels do not love!

 _Gaina._ That may be. I'm speaking of my mistress, "Magpie!" Not meaning
 you, sir.

 _Ber._ She can not love me!

 _Gaina._ That's what I said--at first. A roaming creature with only his
 cloak for shelter, though it's a good gentleman's weave, I'll allow, and
 I know you'll go away before her poor heart gets too heavy for carrying.
 It's nigh that now, and before you came it was so light she was tripping
 and chirping till I could 'a' sworn she had no heart at all--just toes
 and wings. And now, dear soul,--but you'll go, sir? You know you'd have
 to hunt the door soon enough if her brothers got a breath of what's
 between you.

 _Ber._ There's nothing between us!

 _Gaina._ A bat could see it by daylight. It's been in your eyes all the
 time.

 _Ber._ I never meant it!

 _Gaina._ Shame to you then. You'll go, sir?

 _Ber._ Yes, yes, yes!

 _Gaina._ Here's my lady. Now don't tell her you're going. Just go.

 _Ber._ Just ... go.

 _Gaina._ [_At right_] Ay, you've got it.

      [_Exit Gaina as Ardia re-enters_]

 _Ard._ My brothers are at supper. Will you join them,
 Or do you fast?

 _Ber._         I fast.

 _Ard._                A stern religion
 Is yours, my friend.

 _Ber._              I've chosen it. Ardia,
 You know me for a knight.

 _Ard._ [_Softly_] Who wears no sword.

 _Ber._ But in the English isle where I was born,
 I was a monk ... and true. True am I now,
 Save that my cell is what men call the world.

 _Ard._ Spare speech and me. I know the rest.

 _Ber._                                      Your prayers
 Then be my bond that Christ may search my heart
 And find no part not his.

 _Ard._                   No prayer of mine
 Shall fetter youth to bloodless vows. And you
 Look not as one faith-leeched of life. Your cheek
 Is sudden gray, not changeless pale. 'Tis hued
 Like rebel morning pushing back a dawn
 Too eager for its peace. A monk. Our ways
 Part as our souls. Know you I am to wed
 Prince Banissat? So dumb?
                          My father comes!
      [_Meets Charilus re-entering and leads him to a seat_]
 Our guest was telling me of English days.
 Now you change tongue with him and speak the tale
 You promised yester night. Why does this Oswald,
 This war-mad lord of England, on his way
 To free the holy tomb, forget his path
 And turn his army's strength against a man
 No greater than thyself?

 _Char._                 Yes, you shall know.

 _Ard._ At last!

 _Char._        For morning parts us.

 _Ard._                              Oh! Not that!

 _Ber._ Shall I go in, my lord?

 _Char._                       Nay, Vairdelan.
 I'd have thee hear. Thou thinkest me a man
 Of holy heart.

 _Ard._ Ah, who does not?

 _Char._                 There's one
 Has cause for doubt. 'Twas I who slew in rage
 Earl Oswald's father.

 _Ard._               You? These hands?

 _Char._                               These hands.

 _Ber._ I've heard 'twas so.

 _Ard._                     You've heard?

 _Char._                                 'Tis thirty years
 Since Oswald, with his father, John of Clyffe,
 Marched in Red Giles' crusade. You know of that?

 _Ber._ My grandsire captained there.

 _Char._                             I served not Christ,
 At least as they, with pillage, fire and rape.
 But there were some among the English youths
 Who took my heart, and Oswald was my choice
 Of all who camped before the holy gates.

 _Ard._ That man!

 _Char._         I, too, was young ... and I was wed.
 Not to my Ardia's mother, but to her
 Whose heart yet boldly beats in my two sons.
 In her strange beauty John of Clyffe found death.
 He sought her, and I slew him. When his blood
 Ran at my feet, I fled,--not from the swords
 Hot on my path, but from that stream of blood.

 _Ard._ Dear, dear my father! 'Twas a world ago!

 _Char._ I was not of the many who can kill
 And laugh again, nor yet of hermit-heart.
 But for myself had made a gentle god
 Whom my soul served.

 _Ber._              I know, my lord, that sweet
 Idolatry, and dream what thou didst suffer
 So shaken from it.

 _Char._           Far as man knows the world
 I fled the scarlet stream that followed me,
 And on the skyward slope of Himalay,
 Between the white of snows and blue of heaven,
 Saw it no more.

 _Ard._ [_Kissing his hands_] O, white, forgiven hands!

 _Char._ There, near to God as man may come nor lose
 The body's mould, I saw in solvent thought
 That knows not time, a sinless star,--this earth
 That shall be. Back unto my world I came,
 And that my dream might live I lived my dream,
 Servant to love even where the slaves of hate
 Whet sword and knife.

 _Ard._               O, true!

 _Ber._                       'Tis sung of thee!

 _Char._ Now am I old, but love does not deny me
 One service more. To-morrow I shall go
 To die at Oswald's feet----

 _Ber._ [_Eagerly_]         You will go down?

 _Ard._ No, no! He shall not go! Prince Banissat
 Will save him! He has promised!

 _Ber._ [_Gazing at Ardia_] Banissat?
 So 'twas a bargain. Thou'rt fair goods to be
 On th' vender's table. [_Turns to Charilus_] You choose well, my lord.

 _Ard._ What words!

 _Ber._            I bring a message from th' earl.

 _Ard._ From Oswald? [_Shrinking_] You know him?

 _Ber._                                         If any man
 May know him,--but I better know his son.

 _Ard._ The vicious Bertrand?

 _Ber._                      Vicious?

 _Ard._                              O, so foul
 He shuns the day, and walks on moonless nights
 Most like his soul!

 _Ber._             You speak of Bertrand?

 _Ard._                                   Ay!
 More wolfish than his father,--beast whose sword
 Should be his body's part as tigers wear
 Their claws from birth!

 _Ber._                 A bold delusion this!

 _Char._ She speaks untempered rumor. Slander, sir,
 Is out of breath with sporting Bertrand's name,
 And giveth way to winds that blow it past
 Belief's last border.

 _Ard._               Slander?

 _Ber._                       What will shake
 These fancies from your heart?

 _Ard._                        A miracle.
 Naught less.

 _Ber._ Hard terms. [_Turns to Charilus_] I know this Bertrand well.
 If any happy merit in myself
 Has won your love, bestow the same on him.
 What I may share is his.

 _Char._                 Here's living hope!

 _Ber._ He, like myself, was cloister-bred, and passed
 Peaceful, uncounted days until the death
 Of his three brothers, slain in one mad hour.
 Earl Oswald then bethought him of the son
 So early given to Christ. "I have no heir,"
 He said, "but God lacks not for monks." And straight
 With power and gold bought full release for Bertrand,
 Save that release his soul and God might give.

 _Char._ You make me love his story.

 _Ber._                             True to peace
 Even in the camp of war, he lives withdrawn,
 And so gives Rumor sweep for what she would,
 While in her swollen report the earl conceals
 His monkish son's true nature.

 _Char._                       I'll know this youth!

 _Ber._ He keeps his tent by day, and steals at night
 To forest glens, his armor but a cloak,
 His sword a flute----

 _Ard._             O, light from Heaven!

 _Ber._                                  Sometimes
 He farther goes, even far as Kidmir heights,
 And at the feet of Charilus he learns
 A love more true than fane and cloister taught,--
 The love that made the houseless, barefoot Christ,
 With open breast to all unbrothered woe,--
 And now he kneels and of that gentlest love
 Asks pardon.

 _Char._ Bertrand, son of Oswald, rise.
 There's no forgiving in the sinless star.

 _Ber._ [_Rising, to Ardia_] And you?

 _Ard._ Ah ... when I've breath!

 _Ber._                         What I have said,
 My lord, makes way for what is yet to say.
 To-day I waited by Avesta's gate
 For this [_taking out paper_] my father's word, response to mine
 Sent days ago to him. Here, sir, he says: [_Reads_]

 "Son of my hope, your words are not more strange to me than these I
 write with my own hand. If Charilus will come to Suli Castle, the which
 my swords have taken while you sang and slept, my door shall open to him
 as Kidmir gates have opened unto you. By Christ, I swear the treatment
 that he gave my blood he shall have again from me. But if he come not
 down, then shall I reach him through Avesta's heart, and the love he now
 spurns will be cold in my sword. Despatch this, I pray you, for I would
 hasten to Jerusalem, leaving you my conquered princedom, whose head is
 Ilon and whose foot is the city of Ramoor. Thine as thy heart speaks,
 Oswald."

 _Char._ Your father's hand?

 _Ber._                     Doubt flies from it, although
 The vein is alien, sir. It is his hand.
 And, I do think, his heart, wherein, my lord,
 Your gentleness to me, like creeping rain,
 Has moistened love's dry root, whose pent-up bloom
 Is by that nurture freed, and magical
 Now glows before us.

 _Char._             This I would believe. [_Starts off right_]
 Vigard and Biondel must have this news
 From my slow lips, lest with the sudden truth
 They strike ablaze. They have their mother's fire.
 Albanian Gartha was not one to die
 And leave her sons no part in her wild race. [_Exit_]

 _Ber._ You are not Gartha's daughter?

 _Ard._                               No, my lord.
 Claris of Corinth bore me, and my flame
 Is joy, not anger. O, this miracle
 You've wrought for me!

 _Ber._                I wrought?

 _Ard._                          'Tis no less strange
 When God through his bare tool reveals his hand,
 Than when invisible his power stirs
 And makes a chasm in sense. So when you stood
 Before me, Bertrand's self, with yet the voice,
 The eyes, the heart of Vairdelan, I knew
 That was my miracle. O Heaven-sign
 At which my world grew blithe and shook May-boughs
 With birds in every branch!

 _Ber._                     You've no more fear
 For Charilus?

 _Ard._ None, none.
                   Nor for myself.

 _Ber._ Yourself?

 _Ard._          O, seems no soul need trouble now
 In this vast world!

      [_Re-enter Charilus and sons_]

 _Bion._ You are not Vairdelan?

 _Vig._ You're Bertrand, Oswald's son?

 _Ber._                               'Tis true.

 _Vig._                                         That truth
 Should cut your throat, and I could lend my sword
 For such a matter.

 _Bion._           Come! What knightly plea
 Coats this deceit with honor?

 _Ber._                       None, my lord.
 If I've made trespass deeper than your love
 Will bear me out, my hope is in your pardon.

 _Bion._ A lie made you our guest, and guest you are
 Until we meet on Suli plain.

 _Char._                     My son!

 _Ard._ Call you that pardon, Biondel?

 _Bion._                              I speak
 No pardon.

 _Ard._ But you shall--you must. O, say it!
 You know our father goes to Oswald.

 _Vig._                             Know
 That fools and women talk! The gates are sealed.

 _Bion._ I'll guard the pass against my father's self
 If so much rudeness may make stand between
 His death and life.

 _Char._ My sons, I thank your love,
 But I go down. The guards, the gates are mine,
 And to my will they open.

 _Vig._                   'Tis that girl,
 That silvery Greek----

 _Char._             If your quick blood must stir,
 Let manners grace it.

 _Ard._               O, my dearest brothers,
 Do you not love me?

 _Bion._            Better than you know.
 We love you, serve you, though yourself obstruct
 The way to safety.

 _Vig._            You would trust the man
 Who wrapped him in a lie to enter here?
 Sat at our father's board and brake his bread
 To feed an enemy?

 _Ber._           The bread I brake
 Fed friendship's heart in me, and made this roof
 A temple. Do you not know me, Vigard?

 _Vig._                               Nay,
 I knew a Vairdelan--you are not he.

 _Bion._ If Oswald means no harm to Charilus,
 Let him pass on. Jerusalem awaits
 His savage sword.

 _Char._ My son, that Oswald thus
 Compels me to him is to me but proof
 That hearts may greet above long years of hate.
 In this I see Love beckoning Man across
 The wastrel lands of war to fields unwet
 With blood, to days----

 _Vig._ Unhearted cowards then!
 Praise Allah, we yet live where rapiers thresh
 The fields of men and leave the bravest standing!
 Is 't not the Prophet's word that Paradise
 Lies 'neath the shade of swords?

 _Char._                           Allah be yours!
 But I would walk beneath unrisen stars,
 Beyond hate's eyeless clouds----

 _Bion._                       O, spare us, sir!
 Each day brings its own sun, and by that light,
 No other, men must walk. If this our time
 Be dark to you, 'tis in your vision, not
 In the lit heavens, from whose shoreless depth
 No hook of prayer or prophecy may draw
 One star before its hour. Pray you be done
 With this moon madness. Banissat will meet
 The force of Oswald. With the morn he comes
 To seal his troth with Ardia----

 _Char._                       By no word
 Of mine. If you have given him pledge, your honor
 Shall dip to dust and drudge your forfeit out,
 Ere virgin bondage pay it. Hark, Biondel,
 And hear me, Vigard! I alone shall meet
 Earl Oswald. If the blood I shed yet cries
 For blood, here are the veins shall make it dumb.

 _Bion._ But, sir,----

 _Char._              No more. Your sister stays with you.
 Regard her will, nor ope these doors unbidden
 To Banissat.

 _Ard._ I stay? O, never think
 I shall not go with thee!

 _Char._                  You go?

 _Ard._                          I'm safe
 With thee, my father. Here....

 _Vig._                        Here you have brothers!

 _Ard._ I mean no slight upon you, but my fate
 Keeps with my father.

 _Char._              I should doubt the God
 Who bids me go if I denied you this.
 Thyself art Peace, and where thou goest moves
 Her radiance. Make you ready. And good-night, all!
 Sir Bertrand, know the sleep that fits the heart
 For journeying. [_Exit right, rear_]

 _Vig._ [_To Ardia_] There's one will stop your way--
 Prince Banissat!

 _Bion._ We'll send him word this hour,
 For while the edge be on his sudden love
 He'll thank us to be swift.

 _Ber._                     You loved me once,
 My lords.

 _Bion._ True, son of Oswald.

 _Ber._                      Though you used
 Some bitter words, I know your inmost heart
 Holds me a man undoubted. There I'm stamped
 In honor's verity; and when I vow,
 By my soul's faith, that Charilus is safe,
 You know 'tis truth.

 _Bion._             Be you our father's hostage,
 If this mad thing must be. Stay you with us,
 And we are silent.

 _Ard._            Stay? You ask too much.

 _Vig._ No fear, soft sister. Mark him. We're refused.
 He'll stuff the air with words, not clear it with
 One pinch of proof.

 _Ber._             My lords, were I to stay,
 'Twould make an act of faith lose point and purpose,
 And blazon doubt before my father's face.

 _Vig._ You mark?

 _Ber._          'Twould louder cry of war; uproot
 Love's seedling in its tenderest hour, and make
 Once more the bane and night-weed spring. But hear
 An oath of mine. If Charilus meet harm
 In Oswald's camp, I shall return and ask
 The same stroke from your hands.

 _Ard._                          O, do not swear!

 _Ber._ By every hope I have to enter Heaven,
 By the right hand of God, by this white cross
 That knew my mother's last, death-holy kiss,
 By every sacred thing I know and love,
 If Charilus comes up these heights no more,
 Here shall I lay my life beneath your sword.

      [_Barca re-enters right_]

 _Barca._ [_To Bertrand_] The master asks a word with you, my lord.

      [_Exit Bertrand with Barca_]

 _Ard._ Will you accept his oath?

 _Vig._                          Go to your room.

 _Bion._ We'll talk alone.

 _Ard._                   Nay, hear me first. You think
 To force me to the arms of Banissat.
 Give over that wild thought.

 _Bion._                     'Twas not so wild
 An hour ago.

 _Ard._      Fate lifts the hand that laid
 Compulsion on me. I am free. O, free!
 No strait of life or death can make me less
 Than mistress of myself.

 _Bion._                 Our destiny
 Is bound with Banissat. Make him our foe,
 And where shall we find peace? Not on these peaks.

 _Ard._ Is he our jailer then? This Banissat?
 Our prison his good favor? Nay, the world
 Has many roads, and courage even yet
 May blaze a new one.

 _Bion._             Rooted life is best.
 I am not one to make my bed on winds,
 Or stroll the earth for fortune's grudgèd scraps
 Snatched from a rapier's point.

 _Ard._                         Know this. My hand
 Shall never lie in Banissat's. Give up
 A hope so barren. There's better pasturage
 For wits so bold as yours. Now Oswald holds
 The breadth of Suli plain, the heights of Tor,
 Winged by the sea from Ilon to Ramoor--
 A principality whose circuit leaves
 Avesta as a fly pinned to a wall.

 _Vig._ What's Oswald's fief to us? We are no sons of his.

 _Ard._ Lord Bertrand holds the princedom here
 While Oswald goes to wars in Palestine.

 _Bion._ He told you this?

 _Ard._                   Did you not read as much
 In Oswald's letter? There 'twas plainly said.

 _Bion._ Still is our surest hope with Banissat.

 _Ard._ When Bertram! is your friend? O, more than friend!
 A brother!

 _Bion._ Ah ... do you say "brother"?

 _Ard._                              True
 As though he had been born our father's son!

 _Bion._ [_To Vigard_] You hear?

 _Vig._                         With more than ears.

 _Bion._                                            We have been blind.

 _Vig._ A brother!

 _Bion._          All is clear enough, now that
 We've eyes for it. Your pardon, sister.

 _Ard._                                 Pardon?

 _Bion._ Pray you! We thought your scorn of Banissat
 Marked you of creeping spirit, when your aim
 Shot o'er our lowered eyes.

 _Vig._                     Ay, she has sped
 Before our boldest care of her, and left
 Our duty lurching.

 _Ard._            These are drunken words.

 _Vig._ If you would wed Lord Bertrand,----

 _Ard._                                    O, you think....

 _Bion._ Your hope has shown its wing. Best bid it fly.

 _Vig._ Speak without fear. This changes all.

 _Ard._                                      You mean
 You'll not delay us? You will let us go?

 _Vig._ And speed you too! High stroke, this anxious hour
 To journey in his care!

 _Bion._                Yet shielded by
 Our father's dignity.

 _Ard._               How you mistake!
 He does not woo me!

 _Vig._             Now the modest foot!
 But we have seen the other. Trust us, sister.

 _Bion._ Mistake? I now recall his looks, his sighs,
 As from a love immured,--his songs, too warm
 For piety's cool breath,--and more that tends
 To happy proof.

 _Vig._         How dare he woo thee when
 Mere Vairdelan? This blade had stood between!

 _Bion._ Such beggar suit would then have cheapened thee
 Beneath a prince's wearing. [_Leading her to door, right_]
                   No drooping now!
 The way lies clear.

 _Ard._             O, brother----

 _Bion._                          Get you in.

 _Ard._ Will you not listen?

 _Bion._                    Leave your hope with us,
 Your secret is our own. [_Closes door upon her_]

 _Vig._                 Here's change of sky.
 You trust Lord Bertrand?

 _Bion._                 That is now our course.
 Our father will go down.

 _Vig._                  What's in your heart?
 I'll open mine.

 _Bion._ I beg you do.

 _Vig._               Ramoor
 And Ilon now are crownless. Suli's prince
 Must have new governors.

 _Bion._                 But Christian ones.
 That bars our way.

 _Vig._            The Prophet's cloak fits well
 With any fortune.

 _Bion._          Ah....

 _Vig._                 We've but to change
 The color, not the cut.

 _Bion._ [_Listening_] He comes!

 _Vig._                         We'll speak.

 _Bion._ Not yet, my Vigard. Let this fruiting hope
 Swell to a golden fall. Wait with the sun.
 No green and forward plucking.

      [_Re-enter Ardia_]

 _Ard._                        Hear me, brothers----

 _Bion._ Not now. The prince!

      [_Re-enter Bertrand, right_]

 _Ber._                      I pray your answer, friends.
 Let us go down unhindered, and my oath
 I leave with you, a hostage sure as though
 With iron bonds you held my breathing form:
 For in that oath I leave no treasure less
 Than honor, knighthood, and what in me moves
 Deathless to God.

 _Bion._          It is enough. Our guest
 Is free.

 _Ber._ Once more my brothers!

 _Bion._                      Know us ever
 By that dear name.

 _Vig._            And this deep oath you take
 For Charilus' sake, is sworn too for our sister?

 _Ber._ For Ardia? No, my lord.

 _Vig._                        Do you say no?

 _Ber._ I must so answer you. For the fell harm
 That touches her would of myself make end.
 My honor so impeached would cease to breathe
 The air itself made foul. I could not come
 Having no life to bring me.

 _Bion._                    We believe you.
 Go with our father. Take our sister too.
 And we upon these heights shall pray, as you
 On Suli plain, that Charilus may see
 His sons again.

 _Ber._ Come, let him know! This wished
 Obedience will give him sleep.

      [_Exeunt Bertrand, Vigard, and Biondel, right rear_]

 _Ard._                        Is 't best
 That Truth be dumb? I'll watch this weaving Fate,
 And feed her web with silence.... Oh, with hope!

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT II


SCENE 1. _A hall in the castle of Suli. Heavy doors open left, half-way
up. Large window with iron grating, rear. Couches, chairs, scattered.
Tables from which servants are removing the remnants of a feast. They
are quarrelling, chaffing, singing, as the curtain risen._


 _First Ser._ Shifty, there!

 _Second Ser._ What, can't a soldier eat?

 _First Ser._ You a soldier, lickspoon?

 _Second Ser._ I've drawn a sword, sir!

 _First Ser._ Ay, and cut a cheese.

 _Third Ser._ [_Lifting flask_] Here's to----

 _Fourth Ser._ [_Seizing flask_] No man shall guzzle my master's wine
 before me. [_Drains vessel_]

 _Third Ser._ [_Sadly, turning up empty flask_] Not after you, either.

 _Fifth Ser._ Well, well, and two moons back we were saying grace over
 ditch-water!

 _Sixth Ser._ Ay, we were good Christians then. A full stomach makes lean
 prayers. Now we've such a plenty we can spare the devil a fillip, and
 never a grace for it.

 _First Ser._ [_Tugging at table_] Take a leg there! This is no
 grasshopper. [_Others help him move table to wall, right_] Look about
 you! The maskers will be in here.

 _Second Ser._ Here? They'll be everywhere to-night. Such a jig-making
 over the new prince!

 _Second Ser._ Not a corner to drop into and sleep off a good supper with
 a clear conscience!

 _Sixth Ser._ Sleep? What have we to do with sleep? We fight, we eat, we
 dance. That's my soldier!

 _Second Ser._ We kill, we cut, we caper! [_Sings_]
               The soldier rides on Fortune's wheel,

 _All._                 Round we go,
                        Round we go!

 _Second Ser._ Now up the head and now the heel,

 _All._                 Round we go,
                        Round----

      [_Enter seventh servant_]

 _Seventh Ser._ Quiet, you devils! The master's coming.

 _Second Ser._ What, can't a soldier sing? Haven't we fought like true
 men? When did we give quarter? When did we show mercy? And now can't we
 be happy? Can't we take breath?

 _Seventh Ser._ Sh! and I'll tell you what I've seen. I've seen the
 daughter of Old Wisdom.

 _Sixth Ser._ He get a daughter!

 _Seventh Ser._ The maid of Kidmir. Ardia of the Stars they call her, but
 if the sun could shine in the middle of a dark night she would be like
 that.

 _First Ser._ Foh, the Lady Berenice will put out her candle.

 _Seventh Ser._ The Lady Berenice is as like her as the back of my hand
 to Juno's cheek!

 _First Ser._ A heathen comparison! There's a Christian blow for it!

  [_They scuffle. Enter Oswald in talk with Bertrand. Servants finish
      their work quietly and go out_]

 _Osw._ My heart is whole again, now you've escaped
 The claws of Kidmir.

 _Ber._              Say the arms that closed
 Like God's around me!

 _Osw._               Fox, and lion too.
 That's Charilus. I knew him young,--when blood
 Tells nature's truth,--ere he had sucked
 Philosophy's pale milk and made his truce
 With prudence and long life. The heart then his
 He carries now----

 _Ber._            Then, sir, you must have known
 The Maker's marvel,--youth that outstripped age
 And grayest saints in virtue.

 _Osw._                       Tut! No matter.
 You're safe. And he is here ... within these walls.

 _Ber._ A guest of faith who holds your honor bound
 High hostage for his life.

 _Osw._                    My honor? Trust me!
 I'll care for that. No more I'll blush to lift
 My shield i' the sun. The spot of thirty years
 Shall be wiped out.

 _Ber._             With love, my father?

 _Osw._ [_After a pause_]                Ay,
 'Tis love shall do it.

 _Ber._ [_Lifting his father's hand to his lips_] You bind my heart to you.

 _Osw._ Too soft, my warrior. Keep such woman's play
 For Berenice. She will thank you for it.
 I'm rough and old, and need the soldier clap
 To start the singing blood. [_Clapping Bertrand_] A blow with good
 Red heart in 't!

 _Ber._ Berenice?

 _Osw._          Ah, that takes you!
 She's here at last. Prince Frederick arrived
 Three days ago, and with him his fair daughter,
 Too dear of value to be left behind,
 The prey of quarrelling kings. You'll dance with her
 To-night.

 _Ber._ You'll pardon me. I shall not dance.

 _Osw._ Faugh, there's the monk again! Why, boy, we'll pray
 The better for a little tripping,--fight
 The better too. One dance with Berenice!
 A beauty, sir, who makes me hate the years
 That lie 'tween youth and me. She was to wed
 A son of mine by vow above her cradle,
 And I have buried every son save you.

 _Ber._ May I not keep one vow?

 _Osw._                        The pope long since
 Released you. Now----

 _Ber._               My compact was with Christ.

 _Osw._ Why cling to one when all the rest are broken?

 _Ber._ It is the one lies wholly in my choice.

 _Osw._ You left your cell.

 _Ber._                    Do you forget 'twas you
 Who shook to ground my cloister walls, and locked
 All holy doors against me?

 _Osw._                    True, I did it.
 And with good warrant. Broadest Christendom
 Upheld my right and gave me back my heir.
 Small gain if you refuse to wed. My need
 Is not for sons but grandsons now. My boy,
 You'll let me see your children at my knee?
 Ho, hide your face? Then there's a heart in you.
 Why should I toil through blood and groans and fire
 To make a name my shroud will wrap with me?

 _Ber._ Toil then to give this land to God, and live
 So long as love shall live in men.

 _Osw._                            Pale fame!
 Have you no blood of mine? How could my fire
 Father this sluggish monk? There was a maid
 On Kidmir, Charilus' daughter, who has come
 In wag of him, which speaks a fearless wench,--
 She taught you nothing in those moons you passed
 Upon her peaks?

 _Ber._         Sir?

 _Osw._             When I saw her face
 Flash from her veil, I could have sworn
 Your vow was drowned in her lake-eyes, and that
 Her captured softness had made easy way
 For royal Berenice. Now you talk
 Out of your cowl----

 _Ber._ Not so! I am a knight!
 Your words have made me one! Now could I draw
 This sword that knows not blood----

 _Osw._                             I'll bout with thee
 For any woman. Come! Thou'lt be a man
 Ere long. Come, sir!

 _Ber._              You've set a foot most foul
 Upon the flower of time!

 _Osw._                  It seems I've hit
 The mark i' the very eye.

 _Ber._               The whitest thought
 That holds her first must shrive itself!

 _Osw._                                  So, so!
 Come, end the song. She's yours. 'Tis not the moon
 You cry for, take an old man's word.

 _Ber._                              The moon
 Were nearer to me!

 _Osw._            Trrr-rrr-rr!

 _Ber._                        My lord?

 _Osw._ A woman. Ask and have. I'll send her here.
 This is the hour to bait you, and I'd not lose it
 For half of Suli.

 _Ber._           Stay! I will not see her.
 I dare not look upon her lest I lose
 Christ and myself.

 _Osw._            Are you so tuned? We'll have
 A wedding yet.

 _Ber._ Forget that word, and I
 Forgive you for it.

 _Osw._             A wedding, prince of Suli.
 This plain shall ring to Antioch.

 _Ber._                           Nay, father,--
 And yet I thank you that your heart would make
 So fair a maid my bride.

 _Osw._                  Fair? That's no word.
 She's glory's darling pearl,--the morning's eye
 That makes the night forgot! When you have seen her----

 _Ber._ When I have seen her?

 _Osw._                      Ay,----

 _Ber._                             Do you not speak
 Of Ardia?

 _Osw._ Ardia! Gods! Wed Kidmir's trull?
 Make me a doting grandsire to the heir
 Of Charilus? Hear it, stars! Am I the fool
 O' the earth? Give up my English forests, bare
 My purse for troops, and foot by foot fight way
 To Suli sands,--all this that I may set
 A droning dotard's line upon a throne,
 And be the ass of chronicle? O, poison!
 Well, well, I'm done. The girl is fair enough.
 And you shall have her if she pleases you.
 But Berenice--there's your bride, my boy!

 _Ber._ Wed Berenice? With that name you save me.
 By that I see the darkness coiling deep
 Along my bridal way. 'Twas Ardia's name
 That lit the path till I dared let my eyes,
 Though not my will, go venturing on 't.

 _Osw._                                 My son,----

 _Ber._ Never again, my father, speak to me
 In this night's strain. Till morning I shall pray.
 And then I fast. Good-night.

 _Osw._                      One moment. One!
 The sunrise feast? Will you not be with us?
 I drink with Charilus the cup of peace.

 _Ber._ And love that breaks no peace?

 _Osw._ [_Assenting_] See how you bend me?
 All that you ask I give, but you to me
 Yield nothing.

 _Ber._ Sir, this sword, my knightly suit,
 And princely title, make denial for me.

 _Osw._ Your pardon. I forget you count it much
 To give a crust and cell for this broad kingdom.
 I who have paid my heart out for a crown
 Must thank you now to wear it.

 _Ber._                        Good-night.

 _Osw._                                   O, son,
 Have you no patience with a man grown old
 In many battles? Now feel I my age,
 Knowing the dearest blows of my long life
 Have bought me but this shadow. In you is drained
 Ambition's heart,--my every burning aim
 Fails here in you, and cools unforged, unshapen.
 Yet do you turn from me as though 'twere I
 Not you who gave the wound that parts us.

 _Ber._                                   I?

 _Osw._ Of all my sons I loved you best. You think
 I gave you to the friars with no twinge
 Here at my heart? Your mother said "One son
 We must return to God," and I said "Yea,
 So it be not my Bertrand." But her will
 Ran 'gainst me. When she had her way, I longed
 Through many a day to have you at my side,
 While you were happy with your songs and saints,
 Your father quite forgot.

 _Ber._ [_Stirred_] Nay, not forgot.
 And I am with you now.

 _Osw._                O, let me feel
 My son is mine! I'll yield you anything.
 Ay, even Ardia! She shall be my daughter----

 _Ber._ By heaven that keeps me true, I will not hear
 That name again! There's maddest music in it.
 I see her when I hear it. [_Covering his eyes_]

 _Osw._ [_Aside_] I see the lime
 Will catch you.

 _Ber._         Again, good-night.

 _Osw._                           One favor, son.
 And slight too, by 'r lady!

 _Ber._                     Speak it, sir.

 _Osw._ I gave my word you'd wait on Berenice.
 I' faith, I know not what excuse to make
 To Frederick. 'Tis barest courtesy
 To give her greeting.

 _Ber._               I will welcome her,
 Our guest.

 _Osw._ Enough! [_Going_] You'll wait us here?

 _Ber._                                       I'll wait.

  [_Exit Oswald. Bertrand sits with head bowed and does not heed maskers
      who enter and dance about him. They cover him with their garlands
      as they go off. A song is heard within_]

    What save winds shall kiss his bones
    Bleaching on the desert stones?
    What but waves o'er him shall sigh
    Who doth drownèd sea-deep lie?
    What save worms to him shall come
    Locked in earth, bound, keyless, dumb?

    Wild the wind and cold the wave,
    Sharp the tooth within the grave!
    Be such kisses for my ghost,
    Heart, my Heart, when thou art lost!
    Love me, Love, an hour and we
    Mock the cold eternity!

 _Ber._ [_Taking up a flower_] Eternity in this?

      [_Ardia enters. He does not see her until she speaks_]

 _Ard._                                         Prince Bertrand?

 _Ber._ [_Rising_]                                              You?
 Not Berenice!

 _Ard._ Ah ... you wait for her?

 _Ber._ Who brought you here?

 _Ard._                      The earl. Your father.

 _Ber._                                            He!
 What said he?

 _Ard._ That you prayed to see me, sir.

 _Ber._ O, faithless! He deceived you.

 _Ard._                               I will go.

 _Ber._ Stay--tell me--how you fare.

 _Ard._                             Nay, you await
 The princess.

 _Ber._ You've all comfort? No least lack?

 _Ard._ I've food and bed, but little company.

 _Ber._ My father's plans press hard, and I'm a part
 Of them. Each hour he calls me.

 _Ard._                         I know, my lord,
 This is not Kidmir. I've my father too.
 You've yours ... and Berenice.

 _Ber._                        Nay, it seems
 Fate hath her changelings. You have come, not she.

 _Ard._ I sought no meeting, sir, but being here,
 I'll ask you of my father. Is he safe?
 Earl Oswald means no treachery to his guest?

 _Ber._ At sunrise he will drink the cup of peace.

 _Ard._ That's hours away! He knows your life is pledged
 For Charilus' safety?

 _Ber._               No. I will not wake
 A doubt against his honor.

 _Ard._                    He should know.
 I've seen his eyes. Good hap, you have your mother's.

 _Ber._ If he be vile as you so fear he is,
 My pledge would be no leash to his hold will.
 He'd chain me here till he destroyed your brothers.
 Let him know naught, I'm free to keep my oath.
 But this should not be spoken. We do wrong
 To talk of things that have no being save
 In our own midnight fears.

 _Ard._                    Well, I shall sleep.
 Good-night, my lord.

 _Ber._              Am I not Vairdelan?

 _Ard._ Ay, when you smile so.
      [_Holds out her hands, and drops them untouched_]
        Far, O far from Kidmir!

 _Ber._ Yea, an eternal journey my lost soul
 May find it. Ardia, counsel me. Two ways
 Stretch long before me, and I faint
 In daring either. Give me of your strength.

 _Ard._ My strength? I have none.

 _Ber._                          You have God's.
 Men, proud in valor, stray and lose his hand;
 The woman holds it ever, walking floods
 And trampling fire where men go down.

 _Ard._                               Tell me!
 How may I help you?

 _Ber._             Sit then. I will speak.
      [_She sits; He stands near her_]
 I have agreed to be the sovereign
 Of sword-won Suli.

 _Ard._            None will better serve
 Where he is master. O, this spear-torn land
 Shall flower to heaven and mate her bloom with stars!

 _Ber._ A bloom that dies with me?

 _Ard._                           Death cannot make
 The spirit barren.

 _Ber._ [_At distance_] Through me my father hopes
 To found a princely house o'er-topping Asia
 With Christ-lit towers.

 _Ard._                 Oh!... Then you will wed.

 _Ber._ [_His eyes down_] My bride is chosen.

 _Ard._ [_Rising_]                    Chosen? [_Sits again_]
        Nay.... I know....

 _Ber._ [_Returning_] Your hidden eyes hide not the loathing there
 For me forsworn. Why have I troubled you?
 Look on me, Ardia. I am not yet fallen.
 I take your answer. You have chosen my way,
 And I set forth upon it--_not_ forsworn.

 _Ard._ That word is naught. I do not think of it.

 _Ber._ Must man not keep his pledge?

 _Ard._                              To mortals, yes.
 For so our lives are knit, and part to part
 Keep sound and whole. But pledges unto God
 Man cannot make or keep till he may bind
 The Will that journeys with the launchèd world.
 So might His rivers say "Here will we rest,
 And worship thee," nor run into the sea,
 And God must be content though all his fields
 Burn waterless. So might the winds vow Him
 Unbroken calm, and God who needs his storms
 Must still his own desire while his dear earth
 Goes pestilent.

 _Ber._ Unsentient things! He shares
 His will with man.

 _Ard._ But not to enslave his own.
 Christ seals no bond the lips lay on the soul
 That is each instant new as life, as change,
 As the importuning world. Ah, he who sells
 To one hour's narrow need the zenith light
 Of unborn days would snuff out time and know
 No rising sun. Himself would be a slavedom
 Where never Christ would walk.

 _Ber._                        Is 't Ardia speaks?

 _Ard._ Truth speaks, not I. If man must vow,
 Let it not be to love no woman,--wear
 The vest of fire, and in a sunless cell
 Chain Heaven-arteried life,--then peering out,
 Cling to the nested eaves transfixed to see
 His fled desires wear the horizon flame.
 But let him vow his Christ shall shrink no vein
 Of broad and pauseless being; ay,--shall keep
 Sweet surgence with his blood, climb with his spirit
 Time's lifting hills, and hold in watch with him
 The unshrouding pinnacles where love puts off
 The old clouds for the dawn. Forsworn? O, heart
 Cell-bound, thy very vows deny thy Christ.
 Who serve him wear no chains.

 _Ber._                       You think me true?
 And yet I felt your wounded, doubting eyes
 Raining me scorn. Why was it, Ardia?

 _Ard._                              Scorn?
 I have forgot why 'twas--or shall forget.

 _Ber._ And there was pity too, that dropped your lids.
 And would have sheltered me. Is that forgot?

 _Ard._ Nay, that.... I'll tell you that. I thought of Love,
 Man's angel, and the heart-lone way of him
 Who missed and found her not. Never to take
 More courage from the fall of her sure feet
 On heights that wind between death and the stars;
 Or where his road burns through the shadeless sands,
 Reach for the hand with fountains in its touch
 And feel the palm-breath round him. Not to know
 Her eyes when night is come, and there's no star;
 Her breast, that pillowing the darkened waste,
 Keeps warm the bitten earth and gives him dream
 To meet and match the dawn. So wept my thoughts,
 Forgetting that you are no wanderer,
 But kingly housed will rule a tamèd realm.
 Or should a harvest come of spears, not grain,
 Yet is your princess brave and beautiful,
 And bears, may be, a mating heart. Love then
 Will come to you----

 _Ber._              My princess?

 _Ard._                          Berenice.
 Your father's choice ... and yours.

 _Ber._                             My Ardia! Mine!
 Could such a lie creep to your soul and find
 No lances at the door? [_Kneels, kissing her hands_]
                   My love, my love, my love!
 Let honors fail, and stars forget my name,
 'Tis thou shalt walk beside me, thou my chosen!
 I'll hear thy footfall on the winter steep,
 And take thy hand where desert noons are white,
 But close thy breast shall lie upon my heart,
 Nor pillow the bitten waste, my own, my own!
      [_She moves from him. He rises_]
 Why are you silent, pale, and heaven-still?

 _Ard._ I must be still. I've mourned my heart-walls thin.
 This joy will break them. Joy to hear your voice
 With love's mate-music in it cry to me.
 My joy! I'll drink it all, nor lose one drop,
 For I shall have no more.

 _Ber._                   No more? No less
 Than life can hold!

 _Ard._             Hear me, my lord.

 _Ber._                              You love me!

 _Ard._ I shall not be your wife.

 _Ber._                          You're mine--all mine!

 _Ard._ You hold your vow yet sacred, breaking it
 By the sole might of love. You do not feel
 The vision round you in whose light that vow
 Falls like a grave-cloth from an angel's limbs.
 Ah, Christ would be no bridal guest of ours,
 Shut out by your heart's fear.
      [_He stands as if stricken_]
               You see 'tis true.
 You listen for his sanction, and you hear
 The ring of your own vow.
            [_He sits bowed_]
                You hear it now
 Above your passion's chime. 'Twill fill the air
 When love's mad bells grow quiet, and your soul
 Asks the old question. Let me then be far
 From thee, nor stay to be a claspèd fire
 Eating thy side.

 _Ber._          You'll heal me of my fear.
      [_Reaching his hands to her_]
 My fountain and my palm!

 _Ard._                  Your doubt would stir
 Beneath your tenderest deep. My nearing step
 Would as a trumpet start its buried storm
 To sweep our meeting eyes.

 _Ber._                    If Christ would give
 A sign,--leave me no choice,--no other way

 _Ard._ The torch of Fate but blinds us when the heart
 Beareth no light.

 _Ber._           Not Fate, but Heaven--there
 I'd read my sign.

 _Ard._           Hope not, my lord, that Heaven
 Will drive me to your arms. Farewell.

 _Ber._                               No, no!
 To keep you I'll dare hell----

 _Ard._                        Dare hell? My love
 Walks not that fiery verge, but waits thine own
 In regions nearer God. There we shall meet,
 And there will be no hell.
                 [_Turns to go, but is drawn back by his grief_]
                 Thou art a prince
 Of Christ. Arise and rule this land for him.
 There is no sin in you. You've kissed my hands,
 And they are bright as stars!

 _Ber._                       O, can you go?
 You do not love me. In your breast are wings--
 No heart, but wings that seek the mountain sky.
 Go perch above me, leave me dying here.
 And cool your bosom with a virgin song
 To mateless heaven!

 _Ard._             Who is cruel now?
 You have the world to feed on, need not eat
 Your heart as I must--I, the woman. Dear,
 Where Kidmir cliffs climb highest to the sky
 I'll keep my watch, but thou shall rise above me
 In thought of men. O'er all discerning shall
 Thy purpose wing, perhaps be drunk of clouds,
 But light shall follow where thine aim has sped,
 And leading upward with your comrade world,
 My Kidmir shall seem lowly, where I walk
 With stintless ache beneath the cedar boughs
 On pain's moon nights. And oh, the Springs to pass,
 When each bride-bud shall be a wound to me,
 When grasses young, and softly pushing moss,
 Shall urge my feet like fire, and I must stand
 Quite still ... quite still ... with all my unborn babes
 Dead in my heart.

 _Ber._ [_Motionless_] You dare not leave me now.
 You dare not, Ardia.

 _Ard._              I dare not stay.

  [_As she nears the great doors they rumble shut and are noisily barred
      without_]

 _Ard._ Ho! Open, open, open! I pray you, open!
                        [_Beats on door, then leans to the silence_]
 Shut in ... shut in! So Oswald's treachery
 Begins with me. My father, we are lost.
 You are to die, and I--to-morrow, oh,
 My honor will go wasting on the fields
 With every soldier's breath! You hear, my lord?
 We are shut in....

 _Ber._            The miracle!

 _Ard._                        Together....

 _Ber._ The sign! the sign!

 _Ard._                    For all the night....

 _Ber._                                         For all
 Eternity! There is no other way.
 I take you as from Christ. My bride, my bride!

                  [Curtain]


SCENE 2. _The same. Gray of morning seen through grating of window,
rear, where Bertrand stands looking out and upward. Ardia is sleeping
on a couch. The dawn-light wakes her and she starts up._


 _Ard._ 'Tis morning. Bertrand! You have watched all night?

 _Ber._ O, there has been no night.

 _Ard._                            I slept it through.

 _Ber._ Thy body slept, but thou hast been with me
 O'er all the world, and farther than the world,
 Out where the life begins.

 _Ard._                    That may be true,
 For I had wondrous dreams.

 _Ber._                    You speak of dreams?
 A magic touched me, and I woke from dream
 Knowing my life. What ways we went! All things
 Seemed new, warm with the Maker's hand, as young
 As our own eyes, but 'twas eternity
 That kept them sweet, unaging.

 _Ard._                        It was Love
 Who gave thee eyes to see the world immortal
 Even in our own.

 _Ber._          Do all Love's votaries
 Walk with such magic sight?

 _Ard._                     In truth! I've seen
 A beggar woman tread the road-side dust
 As it were showered gold, because she had
 Love's eyes. And we--what joys our joy shall find!
 The pearling skies with rose-breath drinking ours
 'Tween sea and dawn! The leaves that turn i' the wind
 And tremble in our hearts--the brook-song that
 Began beyond the stars--the woodland nests,
 Breast-warm----

 _Ber._         And one is ours.

 _Ard._                         The lark that leaves
 His meadow-mate and reels at the sun's door
 Dropping his song of fire and clover-dew
 Down to her heart.

 _Ber._ [_Kissing her_] As this in thine!

 _Ard._                                  And all
 Life's dearer-veinèd joys,--the way-side hands
 That pluck to camp-fire glow,--the smile of age,
 Gift-sweet and wise beside the garner door----

 _Ber._ Ay, dear are these ... but when we came again
 From that far, holy place....

 _Ard._                       Ah, in your dream.

 _Ber._ Where no words go or come....

 _Ard._                              When we came back?

 _Ber._ Walking the light between the parted stars,
 And met the days that knew us ... naught could hide
 The eternal joy within it. Twas a world
 Whose beauty lay allwheres. O, not alone
 In morning skies and mated larks a-wing!
 Each rag-hung thing was dipped in chosen time
 And wore its royal hour.

 _Ard._                  If that could be!

 _Ber._ What seers, what eyes of light, outshone the pain
 That gave them being! Tears that silvered graves
 Globed in their pearl the immortal hope of men,
 And seemed as beautiful as prophecy
 Burning in its own truth. Ay, where a man
 Fell murdered, crying "I forgive," the ground
 Sprang as a garden----

 _Ard._ Murdered? O, not that!
 How could you say it? I had forgot, forgot!
 Love in your dream looked you quite through the soul
 Of Time on things to be? What saw you then?
 Ah, tell me!

 _Ber._      Then?... Then came this dimmer light
 Which you called morning, and I saw no more.

 _Ard._ I would I knew!

 _Ber._                You fear even now?

 _Ard._                                  O, me!

 _Ber._ Sweet, leave these shadows--dreams of ancient night
 That cling too late upon a day-warm world.
 Must I persuade you still that Oswald means
 Our happiness?

 _Ard._ Hark you! They come, my lord.

 _Ber._ The sunrise feast. Fit place and time to break
 The fast of love.

 _Ard._           O, hear! So many feet!

 _Ber._ Dear trembler, do not fear.

 _Ard._                            They're here, my lord.

 _Ber._ Welcome the world. It has no eye can make
 Our own seek earth.

  [_Doors open. Enter Frederick, Oswald, Charilus, Berenice, with lords
      and ladies attending. Servants follow bearing trays, and lay the
      table. Ardia hastens to her father and they talk apart. Oswald
      advances to Bertrand, right, the others lingering left_]

 _Osw._             I am forgiven?

 _Ber._                           Forgiven!
 Ask God and Love! I'll thank you all my life
 That you did force me take my only way
 To Heaven.

 _Osw._ Hmm! And I spent a bitter night
 Fearing your morning face.

 _Ber._                    It was my soul's
 Birth-night.

 _Osw._ God bless me, you are grateful, sir.
 But you've good reason. [_Looks at Ardia_] I had no such mate
 To make the dark hours fly.

 _Ber._                     Pray speak to her.

 _Osw._ In my good time.

 _Ber._                 Nay, now!

 _Osw._                          The day is long.
 I shall be gentle, for I owe her much
 Who gives me back my son. Come to our guests.

 _Ber._ Does Frederick----

 _Osw._                   Ay, he knows all, and bears
 No grudge.

 _Ber._ Knows all?

 _Osw._           He clapped my plot as though
 His own thick noll had hatched it.

 _Ber._                            And the princess----

 _Osw._ You see her smile? There's answer for you. Come!
 No blush! Put on a face. Your bridal news
 Shall sauce our banquet.

      [_They move to guests_]

 _Fred._ [_To Bertrand_] Greet you, sir! But why
 So pale, my lord? I fear me you have spent
 A sleepless night.

 _Ber._            Ay, as the stars.

 _A Lord._                          The stars?
 He winked then, by the rood!

 _Ber._                      What do you say?

 _Lord._ I say the stars do wink, most gracious prince.

 _Osw._ Come, find your seats, my friends! Yet two of us,
 Lord Charilus and my unworthy self
 Must keep our feet till we have drunk the wine
 Made sacrosanct by one night's rest upon
 The Virgin's altar.
  [_Bertrand places Ardia's seat by her father, who stands at the left
      of Oswald_]
                    You, fair Berenice,
 Sit at my right, and on your other side
 The graceless prince of Suli begs for room.

 _Bere._ He beg, my lord? I have not heard his tongue,
 And for his eyes, I fear no leek of Wales
 Could pull a beggar's tear from them to oil
 This suit. But he is welcome.

 _Ber._ [_Taking seat by her_] Thank you, lady.

  [_When all are seated save Charilus and Oswald a priest enters bearing
      a chalice of wine which he places on table before Oswald_]

 _Osw._ This is the cup by angels visited
 In night's deep hours. Herein they dropped the peace
 Of Heaven, which Charilus and I shall take
 Into our hearts. I know in truth it holds
 Sweet peace for me--the peace that thirty years
 My veins have ached for. Charilus, what say you?

 _Char._ My heart can hold no more of peace than now
 Doth fill it, but I drink with you, my lord.

  [_Drinks from goblet which Oswald has filled from chalice, and Oswald
      drinks from goblet filled by Charilus_]

 _Osw._ [_Dropping his glass_] Is peace a fire?
            I' faith, this kindles me!
 Thou smileless priest, take off the Virgin's cup!
 You think it needs another blessing, sir,
 Since my bold hand has touched it? Out with you!
      [_Exit priest with chalice_]
 That pinch-face has seen hell and fasts to keep
 The ghost down. I'll not fast. Set to, my friends.
 Fill up your bowls, for I've a health for you.
 We drink to Berenice, bride to be
 Of Bertrand, prince of Suli and my son!

 _A Lord._ [_As all lift their glasses_]
 We pledge the bride of Bertrand--Berenice!

 _Ber._ Drink not, my lords, till you have changed that name
 To Ardia, daughter of our noble guest,
 Lord Charilus!

 _Fred._ [_Rising_] If this be sport, Earl Oswald,
 A world of groans shall pay for 't!

 _Bere._ [_In mock swoon_] Oh.... I faint....

      [_Her ladies help her_]

 _Osw._ You bawling ass! You thousand times a fool!

 _Ber._ [_To Oswald_] You've woven a maze about me, and I'm blind
 With 't, yet I see to pluck one truth,--my bride
 Is Ardia. No other under Heaven! My lords,
 It is the wine----

 _Osw._            Would then 'twere in your throat!
 Is this the riddle of your morning smile?
 Your fair compliance, soft submission? Sir,
 By my heart's blood, I'll give you to the sword
 Ere you shall make me father to a drab--
 The spoil of your own lust, the--What, you draw?
 Ay, strike me down! Let me be first to fall
 Beneath your mighty sword! The rust has lain
 A lifetime on it, and a father's blood
 May cleanse it bright as Heaven!

 _Ber._                          O, my Christ!

 _Osw._ Yea, call on him, and he will hear thee too,
 Who honorest so thy father!
      [_Bertrand stands speechless_]
                            Now, my lords,
 Since he no longer brays, I have a tale
 To tell you. I, too, had a father, though
 The world has long forgot him.

 _Fred._                       No, my friend.
 Well do I bear in mind his fair, proud face,
 And glory of his arms.

 _Osw._                He was struck down
 Because a minion, straying from the hearth,
 Looked on his beauty with her nestling eyes.

 _Fred._ For no more cause?

 _Osw._                    I swear it. Friends, if death
 Were the cold price for kissing of a jade,
 Who here would be alive? For so slight sin
 Was my brave father murdered. Charilus, speak!
 Was not the princely heart of John of Clyffe
 Ripped with a hate-keen sword,--the sword of him
 Who claimed the lordship of those rebel lips
 That chose my father liege?

 _Char._                    It is too true.

 _Osw._ Who better knows? Say that a wilding flies
 The builded bower, hearing a lordlier song
 Pass on the wind than her dull mate can tune,
 Must then the singer die, who scarcely knows
 His song is heard, or that a bold wing follows?

 _Char._ Whether the earl of Clyffe sang then to woo,
 As I believe, or for the love of song,
 As you do say, my lord,--his death was sin,
 And he who wrought that woe shed tears enough
 To clear his stain, if tears may whiten souls.

 _Osw._ A murderer's tears! But what of mine, the son's?

 _Ber._ Your oath--your honor, sir! Where is the love
 You swore should cleanse your shield?

 _Osw._                               Safe in my heart.
 And burning for my father.

 _Ber._                    God of pity!

 _Osw._ That was the love I spoke of.

 _Ber._                              All be deaf
 But hell!

 _Osw._ Hear the full tale, my friends. I swear
 The earl of Clyffe died for no more offence
 Than I have here set out,--and I, his only son,
 Kissed his red wounds and from his breast unbound
 This bloody scarf--[_taking scarf from his bosom_] that then was
                   crimson, now
 In age-grown black bemourns my step that comes
 So sluggish to revenge. For thirty years
 Had passed ere I beheld his murderer,
 Then face to face we stood ... and face to face
 We stand ... for this is he, this Charilus
 Of Kidmir--peace-lipped Cain--gray hypocrite,
 Whose blood is honey in his veins, whose eyes
 Stare on the world as he were some bland god
 Who made it and said "good."

 _Char._                     Sir, I would send
 My daughter to her brothers. Grant me this.
 And I am ready for what death you please.

 _Ard._ I will not go. One sword shall strike us both.
            [_Turns to Oswald_]
 But first a word to you. When Charilus falls,
 Say farewell to your son. He pledged his life
 To my two brothers for our father's safety,
 And you, who know him least, yet know he'll keep
 That pledge.

 _Osw._ What, creature, will you lie?

 _Ard._                              I speak
 The truth. Strike, if you can, this gray old man,
 Silvered in service to the one high God,
 Sinless as sunlight, fair in sweetened age,--
 Let forth his sainted blood, and Bertrand lives
 No longer than the shortest time between
 Suli and Kidmir.

 _Osw._          That's a lifetime then!
 He shall not step! I'll have him hung with chains
 Till he is fast as rooted oaks in earth!

 _Ber._ [_Stunned_] A guest betrayed....

 _Osw._                                 Betrayed? I promised him
 Such treatment as he gave my blood. And he
 Shall have it--death!

 _Char._ Peace be my heir!

 _Ber._ [_Takes stand by Charilus_] Death, sir?
 First break this sword! Thy sin must be unnamed
 Until the angel who doth write thee damned
 Gives it foul christening. I break my pledge.
 I will not go to Kidmir. Here I'll give
 My life for Charilus.

 _Char._              No blow for me!
 O, may I unavengèd lie forgot,
 And my forgiving blood make barren ground
 Alive with asphodel----

 _Ber._                 Nay, I will strike,
 Though a father's sword meet mine!

      [_Charilus trembles, and supports himself by Ardia's arm_]

 _Osw._                  Commend me, stars!
 You counselled well. [_To Bertrand_] Fool, do not draw. There's none
 Will run against you. Charilus is dead,
 And by a way more sure. His holy goblet
 Held one rich drop the angels put not there
 Nor Virgin blessed. See how he pales--and stares--
 And cannot get his voice? So are we spared
 A swan-song homily trickling through his beard.
 Be off, old pray-lip--off, and take with you
 Your cat-foot peace and milky piety!
 I serve a vengeful God who armeth men
 For his own wars!

 _Ber._ Heaven, draw thy clouds about thee!

      [_Charilus dies in Ardia's arms_]

 _Osw._ He's dead! The air of earth is sweet again.
 I have no enemy!

 _Ber._ [_Looking up from the body_] You have no son.

                  [_Curtain_]




ACT III


SCENE: _On Kidmir Pass. Moonlight paling to dawn. Ardia alone,
struggling up the Pass._


 _Ard._ [_Looking back_] They do not follow. I am safe from that.
                                                  [_Sits on a rock_]
 Why should I climb? There is no rest up there.
 But there is death, mayhap,--and that is worth
 The sorest climbing. O, my father dear,
 Is 't thy dead self so heavy on my heart?
 Thou shouldst be light upon thy spirit wings,
 And give me of thy freedom.
      [_Gaina enters from above_]
                            Gaina, hast found
 The spring?

 _Gaina._ 'Tis farther up.

 _Ard._                   More steps.

 _Gaina._                            Wait here.
 Barca will bring you drink. Nay, sit you still.

 _Ard._ I must. How this weak body masters us,
 Cooling the bravest will that in strong limbs
 Might dance to any goal! Yet do we say
 The will is lord, whose flush is in the blood
 And fades wi' the paling body. By that lie
 We cling to Heaven and immortality.
 ... O, I am lost so deep I need not fear
 The farthest bolt of God! Out, out the pale
 Of his concern!

 _Gaina._       Why now, honey dear!
 A sip of fine spring water and you'll be
 A lark o' the morning! All's not bad, I say.
 There's Banissat would marry you to-morrow!
 What pretty words he spoke, and took us in
 Like a good father--but I saw him look!
 And he were shaved he'd have a merry eye.
 Such meal and honey! _I've_ a thankful tooth!
 Come now, what say you? Run from such a fortune,
 And stumbling is no matter. Ay, a trip
 Or two were well enough.

 _Ard._                  Yes, foolish 'twas
 To fly from Banissat.

 _Gaina._             You know it? Well, well,
 If it's your own right mind you've run to, dearie,
 There's no harm done past mending.

 _Ard._ [_Taking a small dagger from her dress_] This had saved
 My feet these weary steps.

 _Gaina._                  Sweet Mary, save us!
 Wouldst slay a prince for loving thee?

 _Ard._                                No, wretch.
 I could not take another's life though 'twere
 Of all the world the foulest.

 _Gaina._                     Bless the lass!

 _Ard._ But out of pity I could take my own.
 Why should my heart beat on and labor so
 For merest leave to beat again?

 _Gaina._                       Now, now!
            [_Enter Barca_]
 Here's Barca, praise the saints! Now you'll take heart!

      [_Ardia takes gourd from Barca and drinks_]

 _Ard._ Thanks, Barca. But there's misery in the draught
 That makes me keen again. I fear me I'll
 Yet hope.

 _Barca._ Will you walk on?

 _Ard._                    Yes, come.

 _Barca._ [_Listening_] What's that?
 A noise below!

 _Ard._        Some one from Banissat!
 I'll not be taken!

 _Barca._          Come aside, my lady.
 Here is good hiding.

  [_They go behind a great rock half hidden by cedars. Bertrand enters
      below. Ardia steps out and stands before him. He kneels_]

 _Ber._ Spirit, hast come for me? I'll join thee, love,
 When I have climbed this peak and met the sword
 That sets my honor free.

 _Ard._ Nay, rise, my lord.

 _Ber._ [_Rising_] Thy living self? Here in the night alone?

 _Ard._ Barca is here, and Gaina.

 _Ber._                          Sweet, the moon
 Makes thee so fair.

 _Ard._ [_Smiling_] Was I not always fair?

 _Ber._ [_Embracing her_] My living love! Sit here,--and now thy story.

 _Ard._ I'll shorten it to get to thine.

 _Ber._                                 You had
 The dagger that I sent you? [_She shows it to him_] My sole gift
 To love.

 _Ard._ O, it was dear as death then seemed
 To me!

 _Ber._ Cast it away.

 _Ard._              No, for love's sake
 I'll keep it, and it shall do no work save God's.
 Listen ... it prophesies.... I'll need it yet.

 _Ber._ O, I was mad to send it! Would you wreck
 This tent set fair upon the soul's long road,
 By pain-craft wrought of every whiter dream,
 Where God may sit with us and map the winds
 That forward blow and back, the paths laid free
 To His far end, and those where blind walls rise
 Breast-piled with thwarted dust? Dear soul of me,
 Would we know Heaven we must listen here,
 And one word lost may mean a path all dark
 When we fare outward. This is not for you,
 This fear-born blade. Away with it!
      [_She clasps it closer_]
                                    Is not
 Your danger past?

 _Ard._ Not while Avesta loves.

 _Ber._ O God! But tell me now the full, foul story,--
 Yet not all foul, since you are here alive.

 _Ard._ Your father----

 _Ber._                I've no father!

 _Ard._                               --sent me forth
 With my two servants. When we reached Avesta,
 The prince met us with welcome, much too warm
 Methought, so in the night we stole away
 And reached the pass--all with some wit and care,
 As you shall know hereafter. Now your word.

 _Ber._ I was imprisoned.

 _Ard._                  Yes, I know.

 _Ber._                              A guard
 Gave me his sword. I fought the others.

 _Ard._                                 Fought?

 _Ber._ And killed. Look on this blade. A brother's blood.

 _Ard._ My love!

 _Ber._ At last I am Earl Oswald's son!

 _Ard._ My Bertrand! [_Drawing aside his cloak_]
        You are wounded! Vairdelan!

 _Ber._ That name is no more mine.

 _Ard._                           How did you pass
 Avesta?

 _Ber._ The guards were friends of Vairdelan.
 I used the stainless name that I had lost.
 O, I have lied to keep my word, and slew
 That I might die!

 _Ard._           Might die? You mean ... my brothers.
 They must be merciful.

 _Ber._                With Charilus slain?

 _Ard._ O, me! I too shall die. And that is best,
 If anything we do be worst or best.
 I've read within my father's secret script
 That earth shall lose its heart of fire, and lie
 Dead-cold and dark with no green thing upon it.
 Then this black crust shall bear no form of man,
 Nor trace of him. Why then such ceaseless pain
 To look a little longer on the sun,
 When he who seals his eyes this day with dust
 But leagues with time to reach the journey's end
 Without the journey's ache?

 _Ber._                     Hast lost thy faith?
 My heart, say earth must be its own still grave,
 Our destiny lies farther. But were life
 A march to naught, I'd choose it for the sake
 Of one bright wonder by the way--your love,
 My Ardia.

 _Ard._   You love me, yet would die. Thou'rt mine!
 And I will hold thee, yea, on this warm earth,
 Not in some strange and tearless world!

      [_While they speak Barca moves up the pass and listens_]

 _Barca._                               My lord?

 _Ber._ Ay, Barca?

 _Barca._         Men are on the pass.

 _Ard._                               Above?
 My brothers! Oh!

 _Ber._          I go to meet them.

 _Ard._                            Stay!

 _Ber._ They shall not come to me. I go to them.
 My honor, love, my honor!

 _Ard._                   O, men, men!
 You build a shrine to love and ask us fling
 Our lives, our souls into it. Once within,
 The door forever shut, there sits a god,
 A monster-god, your honor, and we must sue
 For barest room to stand or crouch or kneel
 Where by your oaths we should be sovereign.

 _Ber._ The shrine itself is honor, dear, my heart.
 That gone, we have indeed no holy place
 To shelter love. Was 't not yourself who said
 That man to man must keep his pledge?

 _Ard._                               Ah me,
 That shining night! That night of golden wings!
 And now comes this. Can such two nights be born
 In the same world, and but one sun between?
            [_Bertrand staggers_]
 You're bleeding still!

 _Ber._                Fast, fast.

 _Ard._                           My veil----
 I'll wrap you with it! [_Binds wound_]

 _Ber._ Thanks, for I would live
 To die upon their swords.

 _Ard._                   Wait, wait, my lord!
 O, do not meet them in their first deep rage----

 _Ber._ Farewell!

 _Ard._ You shall not see them till my prayers
 Have turned their hearts from blood.

 _Ber._                              Part thou with hope
 And pain will leave thee too. That is the wrench,
 Not death.

 _Ard._ Stay, stay! Are there not miracles yet?
 I'll hide you yonder till----

 _Ber._                       They come!

      [_Hurries up pass, staggers and falls_]

 _Ard._                                 He faints!
 The miracle begins! Here, Barca, Gaina,
 Bear him aside. He swift! Then come to me.
 O, gently, Barca! Haste!
      [_Barca draws Bertrand behind the rocks_]
           He shall be saved!
 Thou'lt not deny me, Heaven! O, forget
 That ever I blasphemed Thee!

      [_Enter, above, Biondel and Vigard_]

 _Vig._                      Who is here?

 _Ard._ My brothers!

 _Vig._             Ardia, by my life!

 _Bion._                              'Tis she.
 What do you here?

 _Ard._           I go to you. Where else
 Shall I find shelter in a world now bare
 Save where your hearts make gentle room for me?

 _Bion._ What do you mean? Where is our father? Speak!

 _Ard._ You have not heard? Why then do you go down?

 _Bion._ For word of Charilus. No messenger
 Has come. All night we watched. What can you say
 More than this fearful meeting tells? No word?
 Are you the ghost you look? Is Charilus safe?

 _Ard._ Safe as yon Heaven would have him. He is dead.
                  [_Silence_]
 You loved him, though you went another way
 To find your God.

 _Bion._ Our father dead? O, sister,
 Not cold, not still, not silent to his sons.
 Who loved his voice even when they most forsook it!

 _Ard._ Oswald betrayed us.

 _Vig._                    O, my sword, 'tis thou
 Shalt split his heart, though every spear in Suli
 Then pierce my own! [_Going_]

 _Bion._                      Stay, Vigard!

 _Vig._                                    Earth is fire!
 Can you be still upon it? Where is Bertrand
 With his deep oaths? O, coward! I will seek him----

 _Ard._ No need. He'll come to you.

 _Bion._                           He'll keep his oath,
 You think?

 _Ard._ I know he will.

 _Vig._                So knew you too
 That Charilus was safe. Call him to life,
 And we'll believe you yet!

 _Bion._                   How died our father?
            [_Ardia weeps_]
 No matter now. And Oswald cast you out?
 Afoot?

 _Gaina._ Ay, so he did! I'll answer that!

 _Ard._ He sent us under guard.

 _Gaina._                      Ay, but afoot!
 And 'twas a trudge to Avesta. O, the day!

 _Bion._ Prince Banissat gave you no help?

 _Gaina._                                 No help?
 Who said so? There's a prince! He drew his sword,
 And swore he'd drive Earl Oswald to the sea,
 And said "Avesta's yours,"--that to my mistress,
 She then bedraggled and so full of tears
 She had no words to thank him. I did that!
 Then we had sup and bed, and when my bones
 Were sweet with sleep, why we must up again
 And tug it to the peak.

 _Bion._ [_To Ardia_]   He sheltered you!
 Then there was hope, which you have trampled down
 By this mad flight.

 _Ard._             I dared not think the prince
 Would make my bitter fortunes his. In you
 Lay my defence, and to your love I came.
 You must make peace with Oswald. Yes, my brothers,
 Although you write it with our father's blood.
 He is all powerful. When Bertrand comes----

 _Vig._ Ha, when he comes!

 _Bion._                  What then?

 _Ard._                             You may demand
 Whate'er you will of Oswald, if you spare
 The dear life of his son.

 _Vig._                   I'll have that life
 And Oswald's too!

 _Ard._           He'll make you any terms----

 _Vig._ Ay, any terms, and keep none, once his son
 Is safe.

 _Bion._ [_Looking down the pass_] Who comes?--with gleaming lances? Ah....
 The prince!

 _Vig._ By Allah, he!

  [_It is now dawn. Ardia steps back into shadow as Banissat and followers
      enter. His retainers wait at entrance below while he advances_]

 _Ban._              Good-morrow, friends.

 _Bion._ Hail to you, Banissat!

 _Ban._                        I seek a dove
 That fled my hand last night. Has 't flown your way?

 _Bion._ Our sister is with us.

 _Ban._                        Then search ends here.

 _Bion._ Her flight meant no ingratitude, my lord.
 Her father's arms grown cold, she came to ours
 By the shortest way, bringing her honor home
 Where none might question it.

 _Ban._                       We love her more
 For watchful care of what to us is precious
 As to herself. Heaven-pure must be the bride
 Of Banissat, and tainted Heaven will put
 The earth to blush ere she will bring us shame.
 I offer her my princedom.

 _Ard._ [_Stepping out_] One whose veil
 Is lost? Whose face is common to the eyes
 Of beggars by the road?

 _Ban._                 O, bald and bitter!
 But did not one, our Lady of Paradise,
 Walk with bare brow among our counsellors?
 And you are pure as she. Who dares to soil
 The chosen of Banissat with whisper that
 He saw you on this journey, forfeits eyes
 And tongue. So silence shall give burial deep
 To every slander.

 _Ard._           You will not forget.

 _Ban._ Yourself shall be my dear oblivion.
 For Beauty keeps no records, has no past;
 Her arms engird love's moment, and there is
 No other time.

 _Ard._        Nay, Beauty's history
 Is writ beneath her bloom, and when that goes
 The deep, uncovered scars are hated more
 Because of love that kissed them unaware.
 I dare not wed you, but say that I dared,
 Wouldst grasp my broken fortunes when you need
 Strong Antioch's staff and sceptre to make good
 Your gates 'gainst Oswald? And I've heard, my lord,
 That Antioch's daughter is a prize you seek.

 _Ban._ Be not o'er-jealous, Ardia of the Stars,
 For Antioch shall serve thee. There my suit
 Is but a fair appearance,--there I woo
 To make thy state secure, and thou shalt be
 Bride of my heart unrivalled.

 _Ard._                       Hear me then!
 I am betrothed to Bertrand. He is sworn
 To me as I to him.

 _Vig._            Death to your tongue!
 You'd wed your father's slayer?

 _Ard._                         I would wed
 Lord Bertrand. [_Kneels to Biondel_] Brother!

 _Vig._                                       Give no ear to her!

 _Ard._ If you would save Avesta and yourselves,
 Make peace with Oswald. Trust not Antioch.
 When Bertrand comes----

 _Vig._ He will not come! He's not
 A fool as thou!

 _Ard._ He comes!

 _Vig._ [_Lifting his sword_] Then here's his welcome!

  [_Bertrand comes out and walks slowly to the group. Vigard, amazed,
      lowers his sword_]

 _Ber._ My friends, well met. You cut my journey short.

      [_Gives his sword to Biondel_]

 _Bion._ You have come back ... to death?

 _Ber._                                  The blow, my lord.
 Your work is wellnigh done. An easy stroke
 Will finish it.

 _Vig._         And whose is that?

 _Bion._                          Not mine.
 I do condemn him, but can lift no hand
 To seal mine order.

 _Vig._             I am not so weak.
 This blow for Charilus!

 _Ard._ [_Staying him_] If Bertrand dies
 My honor goes unto a grave so deep
 No shoot of green will ever from it spring
 For the world's eye to light on.

 _Bion._                         You make much
 Of broken troth. There's many a maid has lived
 In wedded honor with a second choice.

 _Ard._ But I may not.

 _Bion._              Peace, sister.

 _Ard._                             Let him live,
 And Suli's glory will enwrap my name
 Stainless and safe.

 _Ban._             'Tis safe with me. Ay, safer.
 Let Antioch enlist with me, and I
 Shall wear the name of Suli with my own.

 _Ard._ You've yet to hear ... you do not know, my lord....

 _Ber._ Sweet, plead no more. Let me go on to Heaven
 If 't be God wills his gates shall ope to me.

 _Vig._ You'll stop in hell a thousand years or so!

 _Ard._ Wait! I will tell----

 _Vig._                      You've said too much!

 _Bion._                                          Speak, Ardia.

 _Ard._ In Suli castle where I was betrothed
 To Bertrand, just one sun agone--but one--
 He spent the night with me.

 _Vig._                     She lies!

 _Ard._                              Say now
 If Banissat, or any lord save Bertrand,
 Will make me wife.

 _Bion._           Must I believe you?

 _Ban._                               No.
 A woman's trick.

 _Ard._ There's proof. Ask whom you will
 Of Oswald's train--the lords who saw me cast
 From Suli's door, too vile for word or touch.
 Ask any trooper, jesting by the way,
 And hear my name made foul. The army rings
 With it. Ask any gossip of the tents----

 _Ban._ O, stop her tongue! It thunders on me! All
 The air is storm! Peace, or I'll strike her down!

 _Bion._ This seals your death, Lord Bertrand. Now my hand
 Is hot and willing.

      [_Enter a messenger below. He gives a packet to Banissat_]

 _Messenger._ Antioch sends this,
 O, prince!

 _Bion._ [_To Bertrand_] I had your word above all oaths
 That you would guard our sister. When the priest
 Strips bare the shrine, not outraged God or man
 Shall show him mercy.

 _Ard._               He is innocent!
 'Twas Oswald's plot to cast me in the dust--
 And there I lie where all the world may see--
 But Bertrand's soul is guiltless----

 _Vig._                              Guiltless! Tush!
 Your puzzle's clear. [_To Biondel_] She dies with him.

 _Ard._                                                I die
 If Bertrand dies. But, oh my brothers, we
 Are young--we love--will you not let us live?

 _Bion._ [_To Vigard_] 'Tis best she dies.

 _Ber._                                   You will not dare----

 _Bion._                                                     The prince
 Shall be her judge.

 _Ban._             First let us speak aside,
 For Antioch fails us, and we've more to weigh
 Than the quick death of this too-guilty pair.

      [_Banissat, Biondel, and Vigard go off above_]

 _Ber._ I have brought death upon you.

 _Ard._                               Life, 'tis life
 Now beating in the dawn! What music! Hear it!
 O, we shall live, my lord, and live together!

 _Ber._ In Heaven, love.

 _Ard._                 True, for this planet too,
 Ay, even this earth, is set in Heaven as deep
 As any star. 'Tis we are heaven to eyes
 In other worlds, and would be to our own
 Could we believe. O, hope with me, my Bertrand!
 No, no, not hope, whose other half is doubt,
 And to its dark and fearful double owes
 Its very radiance, too, too unlike
 Belief's transmuting sun!

 _Ber._                   Ah, love, no man ere broke
 Undrained his cup, or brewed again those drops
 To his desire----

 _Ard._           Nay, every man is new
 In destiny, his star his own, and foots
 Unmeasured paths.

 _Ber._           On mortal feet.

 _Ard._                          Be 't so,
 Each birth is a high venture of the soul
 Feeling an untried way for deity's dream,
 And none may know where th' deep and twilight trail
 Shall flash with God-rift, and the dawn be his.

 _Ber._ O, bravest, bow thy head----

 _Ard._                             Nay, nay, my lord!
 Lock up your spirit, let mine rule this hour,
 Or be with me the flame of faith that leaps
 To deed in God. For we do help him, dear.
 Our parcelled strength is whole and new in His,
 A power born that touches us again,
 Breeding our greater self that yet gives back
 His own increase, until the way is strewn
 Even with his miracles and ours. So works
 The unending drama out, where every act
 Begets an act yet greater than itself.

 _Ber._ Let me but kiss thy hands.

 _Ard._                           You will not help?
 You'll not believe? Is it so strange
 That you should live?

 _Ber._               That hate should let me live.

 _Ard._ Is it more strange that halo should grow love-still,
 Than that the wind should cease, as now it does,
 To strip the bloom from yonder bough, and lie
 Unfelt within its silent place? More strange
 That life should keep its flow in your warm veins
 Than that the sun now creeping on the peaks
 Should wander down and on and lay in gold
 The valleys of the world, moved by no hand
 We see or name, but know, but know!

      [_Biondel, Vigard, and Banissat re-enter_]

 _Ard._                             He lives!

 _Bion._ He lives. Speak the conditions, prince.

 _Ban._ [_To Bertrand_]                         Your life
 Is spared that she whose name is lost
 May wear your own. You shall remain on Kidmir peak,
 And make her yours by every priestly rite
 With open, fair observance. Then Earl Oswald
 Must greet as daughter one he vilely mocked
 From his proud door, and far and wide acclaim her
 Princess of Suli. Will his love for you
 So bow his heart?

 _Ber._           I may not speak for him.

 _Ard._ He will consent.

 _Ban._                 And, further, he shall give
 To Biondel the governorship of Ilon.
 And grant Ramoor to Vigard.

 _Ber._                     Not for price
 Of my poor life will Oswald yield these towns
 To any save a Christian.

 _Ban._                  So we think.
 And therefore will these lords forswear
 The Prophet for your Christ.

 _Ber._                      Such sudden change----

 _Vig._ Not sudden, sir. We've long debated it
 In secret talk, but loved too well our prince
 To so forsake his banner.

 _Bion._                  Now the day
 Is here when as his true and Christian friends
 We may best serve him, and yet keep the peace
 For which our father died.

 _Ber._                    He is alive again
 If you be true. Though wonder is in the hour
 I will not stare or question.

 _Ard._                       Question nothing.
 Do you not live?

 _Bion._         The prince will summon Oswald
 To earliest parley, and make our offer known.

 _Ban._ Nor lose an instant. Here begins my journey.

      [_Signs to retainers who start down the pass_]

 _Bion._ We need not give you thanks when you've our hearts
 That hold them.

 _Ban._         By the sunset hour the earl
 Shall give me answer. Meet me in Avesta
 'Tween dark and light.

 _Bion._               We will, my lord.

      [_Exit Banissat_]

 _Ber._                                 O, strange!
 Will he keep faith?

 _Bion._            If you must doubt his heart,
 Trust his affliction. Antioch lost to him,
 What can he do but smile on Christian Oswald?
 By that same argument I am condemned,
 But beg a respite till this pushing peace,
 Upsprung in haste, may bear you buds of proof.

 _Ber._ What world is this?

 _Vig._                    Climb you no farther, sir.
 Your wounds forbid. Our servants shall be sent
 To bear you up.

 _Bion._        Ay, wait you here, my lord.

      [_Exeunt Biondel and Vigard above_]

 _Ber._ Love, see the sun!

 _Ard._                   It is my heart, my heart!


                  [_Curtain_]




ACT IV


SCENE: _Same as first act. An altar near wall, left. Seven maidens
putting fresh garlands about the hall._


 _Mylitta._ She must be dressed by this. Come, let us sing!

 _Mirimond._ No, wait! Our part is yet undone. Here hangs
 A withered garland.

 _Alenia._          Here another. See!
 And there! Well, we are slack.

 _Eudora._                     Who would not be?
 We've cause for sleepy wits and fingers too,
 With seven days and nights of revelling.

 _Garla._ And Charilus warm in 's grave.

 _Myrana._                              He'll be no colder
 Let come a hundred months. Ten years, ten days,
 'Tis all the same i' the ground.

 _Daphne._                       And yet, I think
 The daughter smiles too soon.

 _Mylitta._                   Troth, I would smile
 For such a lord if all the world beside
 Were wrapped in shroud.

 _Mirimond._            I would the English knights
 Were come! Full fifty, Barca said, would ride
 From Suli.

 _Mylitta._ I know you, chit. Your eyes will find
 Their way.

 _Mirimond._ Mayhap not all of us will take
 The homeward ship for Corinth. Did we think
 When we set sail we'd come in time to see
 Our Ardia married?

 _Mylitta._        You will dream.

 _Garla._                         If dreams
 Were men, what maid would go unwed? Not you,
 Mylitta.

 _Myrana._ Come, our song! 'Tis time!

 _Eudora._                           Come, all!

      [_They sing by Ardia's door_]

    Mornings seven have we been
      Wardens at thy door;
    Now thy lord shall enter in,
      And we come no more.

    Mornings seven have we strewn
      Lilies at thy door;
    Now the virgin watch is done.
      And we come no more.

    Mornings seven have we sung
      At thy maiden door;
    Now the seventh morn is rung,
      And we come no more.

      [_Door opens and Ardia comes out. Gaina follows_]

 _Ard._ A kiss to all! Who's happier here than I
 Shall have my place.

 _Mirimond._         We'll ask Lord Bertrand that.
 Thou'rt no more mistress of your yeas and nays.

 _Ard._ O, but I am! I have a votary now
 Who'll make my words his wishes and himself
 Bring them to pass.

 _Mylitta._ No doubt. You'll cough
 In oracles. He'll puzzle o'er your sneeze
 That he may do its meaning. I have heard
 Such husbands do inhabit a green moon,
 And one may come to earth.

 _Ard._                    Kiss me, Mylitta!
 Naught else will stop your mouth. O, dearest girls,
 No father's here to give me to my lord,
 And yet I smile, I wed. For why?--his love
 Is not in earth with his dear body. No!
 'Tis all about me here, bathing my heart,
 Now on my brow, now whispers at my ear,
 Now runs before my eyes to make a light
 Where they would rest. He loves this day as I do!
 Yet I had stayed this busking marriage
 Had not my brothers pressed me to such haste
 And peace not waited on it. Think, dear maidens,
 Peace everywhere! Avesta safe and free,
 And Oswald's sword in sheath--
                               What is that chanting?

 _Gaina._ [_Looking from parapet_] A train comes up the heights.

 _Mylitta._                        The English Lords!

      [_Enter Barca, left_]

 _Ard._ Barca, who comes?

 _Barca._                Prince Banissat, my lady,
 With all his court attending.

 _Mirimond._                  Banissat!
 This is a Christian wedding.

 _Ard._                      We are at peace.

 _Barca._ He brings you gifts. Your brothers go to meet him.

 _Ard._ Where is Lord Bertrand?

 _Barca._                      Near at hand. He comes
 This way.

      [_Exit Barca, left_]

 _Ard._ My girls, wouldst see what dainties lie
 In yonder chamber?

 _Mylitta._        Nay, we'll wait.

 _Ard._                            Moonstones
 For golden hair--crescents and amber stars
 For tresses dark----

 _Girls._            O! O!

 _Ard._                   Veils of spun silver----

      [_Maidens buzz through door right_]

 _Ard._ Go, give them all!

 _Gaina._                 All, mistress? Not----

 _Ard._                                         Go, go!

      [_Exit Gaina. Bertrand enters, left. He is in princely costume_]

 _Ber._ Art found, my heaven?

 _Ard._                      Thou'st not a fear thy Heaven
 Is lost in me?

 _Ber._        A doubt were my soul's shame.
            [_Points up the heights_]
 Does not yon giant cross arise to say
 Christ reigns on Kidmir? Far as Suli plain
 Men see the sun upon its silver sides
 And hands upborne in prayer forget the sword
 That sleeps unwakened.

 _Ard._                Will it sleep for long?

 _Ber._ Ay, else your father's death were devils' sport,
 Not Heaven's will.

 _Ard._            What word to-day from Oswald?

 _Ber._ You name him?

 _Ard._              Is he not our father?

 _Ber._                                   O,
 God's angel thou, not mine!

 _Ard._                     Does Biondel
 Now wear the crown of Ilon?

 _Ber._                     That's confirmed.
 And Vigard has Ramoor.

 _Ard._                They profit much
 By their new faith.

 _Ber._             Do they not spare my life?
 So Oswald gives these crowns. You think he pays
 Too dear?

 _Ard._ O, barest alms! I'd have the earth.
 No less,--then want the sun,--ay, circling heaven,
 And yet be beggared losing thee! But they
 Must wear their purple o'er a Christian heart.
 I would not doubt ... and yet....

 _Ber._                           They are the sons
 Of Charilus.

 _Ard._      And Banissat?

 _Ber._                   He vows
 An endless peace with Suli.

 _Ard._                     And you are Suli.
 Why am I fearful, knowing doubt is death?

 _Ber._ Come, love, look down--nay, farther, toward the sea.
 That sprawling mass that darkens now the plain,
 Seeming to hugely breathe and cloud-like move,
 Is Oswald's army making feast to-day,
 For I, the prince, go wiving. Now I seem
 To hear our names joined high in Heaven's air.
 And Christ, too, listens smiling, knowing one land,
 One throne is his forever. Sweet, 'twas he
 Drew me from sheltered cell and flowered garth
 To be his sovereign servant. He it was
 Who called through you, who cried in Charilus' death
 To wake my soul that shall not sleep again
 Till Love has garnered all these eastern lands.

 _Ard._ Amen, my husband-knight! I am content
 To be your love next Christ. Within your heart.
 'Twill be sweet, gleaning where he walks before.

 _Ber._ These words be your sole dower, for they hold
 More sun for me than shining gold!

 _Ard._                            The guests!
 Do you not hear them? Leave me now, my lord.

 _Ber._ Thank patience and my stars, we reach the end
 Of these stale ceremonies! Seven days
 Of long, superfluous rites to make you mine
 When our first kiss did wed us!

 _Ard._ [_Mocking_]             So ungentle
 To your proud honors, sir? Nay, it is fit
 Your wedding be as famous as your name,
 O, Prince of Suli!
            [_Voices heard, left_]
                   Go, to come again!

  [_Exit Bertrand, right. Ardia turns to enter her room and faces Vigard
      who comes on left. She draws her veil_]

 _Vig._ Stay, sister.

 _Ard._              Would you have me seen?

 _Vig._ [_Throws back her veil_]            Art fair
 Again? As Kidmir skies!

 _Ard._                 It is my joy.

  [_Enter left, Biondel, Banissat, and lords. Banissat pauses. The others
      pass off, right_]

 _Vig._ [_Taking Ardia'a hand to detain her_]
 We have surprised our sister.

 _Ban._                       Blest the hour!
 Now may I lay this gift within her hand--
 Poor gift, that has no worth until that hand
 Caresses it to splendor.

      [_Kneels, offering her a small packet_]

 _Ard._ [_Taking packet_] Courteous prince,
 My thanks. And more than thanks that you should climb
 Kidmir's uneasy steep to dearly grace
 This day--for smiles of friends, more than fair gifts,
 Do best adorn my bridal. [_Draws her veil and moves right_]

 _Ban._             Night is come.
 And through her mist the stars! [_Exit Ardia_]

 _Vig._                         Her bloom is washed
 Somewhat with tears for Charilus, but she
 Will flower again.

 _Ban._            Now by the Prophet's soul
 He who has kissed her lips had better've kissed
 A flame of hell than so have touched
 What shall be mine!

 _Vig._             As thou dost love revenge,
 Be patient.

 _Ban._     Patience to the ox, to beasts
 That dream 'twixt cud and whip! Am I not man?

 _Vig._ You have endured, by truth.

 _Ban._                            Endured!

 _Vig._                                    And now
 Revenge! Ere night yon braggart cross shall bear
 A burden that will start Earl Oswald's eyes
 When he looks up from Suli plain.

 _Ban._                           This day
 Shall see it! Come, once more let us look down.
 See where the hosts of Allah charge upon
 The sottish infidel! All yet is well.
 The banner o'er Avesta signals still
 The Prophet wins!

 _Vig._           And when the tower of Suli
 Gleams with the hoisted crescent, we shall know
 Oswald is taken.

 _Ban._          Ha! There's no way out!
 The powers of Ilon, Avesta, and Ramoor,
 Pen him in bloody triangle. Old rat,
 You're in the trap! I should be there, not here,--
 There at his throat----

 _Vig._                 Nay, here, my lord, you'll have
 Your dearest triumph. Please you now, go in.
 I'll watch here for the sign.

 _Ban._                       Your watch be short.

      [_Exit, right. Re-enter Ardia_]

 _Ard._ [_Holding out a flaming ornament_] Brother, see this!
                   The jewel of the house
 Of Banissat. 'Tis sacred to his name.
 I cannot take it, and he dare not give it.

 _Vig._ It seems he dared.

 _Ard._                   What does he mean, dear Vigard?

 _Vig._ To honor Suli's princess as most fit.

 _Ard._ I tremble still from his deep look of fire,
 And when I saw this burn methought his eye
 Was yet upon me.

 _Vig._          Fool, go to your maidens!

      [_Enter Barca, left, with Ramunin_]

 _Vig._ You're late, my man.

 _Ram._ And yet in season, sir. [_Points up the heights_]
 The cross is bare.

 _Vig._            Get you within.
      [_Exeunt Barca and Ramunin, left_]
                                  Now, sister--
 What, do you faint?

 _Ard._             That face! Ramunin's face.
 I saw it once, and shuddered many a day
 Remembering it. The public crucifier,
 Who serves the bloody prince of Antioch.
 The same. What does he here upon this day
 Of all the days of time?

 _Vig._                  'Tis by your wish
 That Kidmir gates are open.

 _Ard._                     And by yours.

 _Vig._ Ay, let the world be witness you are made
 The honored bride of Suli.

 _Ard._                    But Ramunin?
 He said the cross was bare. Why such a jest
 As horrid as his life? [_Looking out_] And all the knights
 That were to come from Oswald--where are they?

 _Vig._ They drank too deep last night for journeying
 Up Kidmir road--or else they dare not cross
 This outraged portal.

 _Ard._               Have we not forgiven?
 Ah, what is there? Look, Vigard, do you see?
 A floating crescent!

 _Vig._              Where?

 _Ard._                    O'er Suli tower.
 O, this is Oswald's greeting to our house,
 Better than any band of armèd knights!
 He lifts the Prophet's banner to his towers,
 Even as you set the Savior's crucifix
 On Kidmir! Now the one eternal God
 Lives in his sign when cross and crescent smile
 Love-set in the same heaven!

 _Vig._                      Allah be praised!

 _Ard._ And Christ--forget not Christ!

 _Vig._                               We'll make an end now.
                                                 [_Exit, right_]

 _Ard._ An end? Am I a bride--or sacrifice?

  [_Goes in, right, at sound of approaching music. Enter, left, young
      musicians playing flutes and harps. They pause before altar,
      cross to right and seat themselves about Ardia's door. Guests
      enter, filling rear of hall, and parapet. A maiden comes on,
      dancing the grain-dance and scattering sesame. At the close of
      dance, Ardia's maidens enter, each bearing a lighted candle
      which she places on the altar. A Greek chant is heard as priest
      approaches left. All wait his entrance, and the curtain falls,
      rising again on the close of the ceremony. Bertrand and Ardia
      stand centre. An aged priest at altar. Biondel and Banissat
      conspicuous among the guests. Vigard not seen_]

 _Bion._ Is all now done?

 _Priest._               All's done. The spouse of Suli
 May bow herself unto her master's feet,
 Bespeaking so the love that has no wish
 But service, no desire save her lord's will.

      [_As Ardia would kneel, Bertrand prevents her_]

 _Ber._ You shall not kneel.

 _Ard._                     'Tis custom, dear my lord.

 _Ber._ Then here it dies.

 _Ard._                   My mother did so much
 For him who made her wife.

 _Ber._                    Thy knees shall bend
 To God, and to none less. Reign at my side,
 Princess of Suli, not my feet.

 _Bion._                       We hail
 The bride of Suli!

 _Guests._         Bride of Suli, hail!

 _Vig._ [_Unseen_] Ho! Seize the traitor! Ho!

      [_Enter Ramunin, right, and armed guards_]

 _Ber._                     Who speaks? And who
 Is traitor here?

 _Vig._ Thou, foulest murderer!

 _Ber._ Who speaks?

 _Vig._            Dead Charilus.

 _Ard._                          'Tis Vigard's voice.
            [_Vigard steps forth_]
 What, Vigard, art thou mad? Wouldst shatter the globe
 Of Heaven?

 _Vig._    Nay, it was broken that same hour
 When died our father.

 _Ber._               Son of Charilus, speak
 Your will. If you demand my life, 'tis yours.
 I hold it by your gentle lease and love.
 But while I ask not one poor breath for me,
 I beg you pause, nor cast the innocent
 To feed the vengeful and life-reaping fire
 Oswald will kindle for his hapless son.

 _Vig._ You think no fires will burn but of his kindling?

 _Ard._ O shame! The crescent over Suli greets
 The cross on Kidmir!

 _Vig._              Ay, the crescent flies
 From Suli, thanks to faithful Moslem hands
 That set it there.

 _Ard._            Ah.... Moslem hands?

 _Vig._                                You fool,
 To think that Oswald fluttered compliments,
 When he was dreaming how he'd bid you drink
 Of that same cup he gave to Charilus!

 _Ban._ Now, dearest lady, you are safe. To-day
 The Faithful battled with the infidel,
 And that bright crescent is the silent sign
 We have the victory. Ramoor and Ilon
 With pointed sword bore down on either side
 The glutted, drunken army, while in front
 Avesta like a whirlwind swept----

 _Ard._                           O, traitor!
 You vowed unbroken peace with Suli!

 _Ban._                             Yea,
 Will keep it too, for I am Suli now.

 _Ard._ [_To her brothers_] Were you not sworn to Christ?

 _Bion._                              We are the Prophet's.

 _Ard._ O, Heaven, hear not this! And Oswald's knights?

 _Vig._ Sleep in Avesta's dungeons.

 _Bion._                           Banissat,
 Avesta's golden prince, speak you the doom
 Of Bertrand----

 _Ard._         Doom? O----

 _Ber._                    Do not waste the breath
 A kiss may save. A thousand times, your lips!

 _Ard._ [_To Biondel_] Let him not die!

 _Vig._ You'll pray soon that he may!
 Speak, noble prince.

 _Ban._              I, lord of conquered Suli,
 Condemn the son of Oswald unto death
 By crucifixion. Be his body nailed
 Upon the cross now raised on Kidmir peak,
 That Oswald may behold his groaning son,
 And every Christian dog look up and see
 How dies the Prophet's enemy.
         [_To Ramunin_] Away!
 Prick him with delicate tortures that yet leave
 Him heart to heave his agony. Hear you!
 If he live not three days upon the cross
 Yourself shall hang beside him.

 _Ram._                         I've a hand
 Has had some practice, sir.

 _Ban._                     We know it, fellow,
 And therefore we employ you.

 _Ram._                      I put the nails
 In young Deobus, he who hung five days
 'Twixt heaven and earth, and to the fifth eve groaned
 As he would pull his heart up. I've a medal
 Struck by the city for it.

 _Ban._                    I will match it,
 If you match me the service.

 _Ram._                      That I'll do.
 These English have strong hearts--will suck at pain
 As life were in her dugs.

  [_Exit Ramunin, guards, and Bertrand. Priest and guests follow. The
      maidens huddle at door, right_]

 _Bion._                  Sister, you stare
 Too hardly on this grief. It is a woe
 That Heaven smiles on, and the cure now waits
 In Banissat's fair mercy. You shall be
 His royal wife, and Suli's princess still.

 _Vig._ Speak to the prince.

 _Ban._                     Nay, let her hear my vow.
 O, star of Kidmir, dear and beautiful,
 I'll set thee in a bosom that shall be
 A tender heaven round thee. Beat to earth
 Is murmurous suspicion, and again
 You shine unto the world, swept free of taint
 By noble marriage with most careful rites----

 _Ard._ I doubt, I doubt! One part, one point, one rite,
 Broken in act, left gaping and divided,
 One half performed, one half left all undone,
 Leaves me dishonored still. She is not widowed
 Who was not wife----

 _Vig._              All's done! What more canst wish?

 _Ard._ To lay my forehead on my husband's feet,
 Which by the ancient custom of our house
 Is maidhood's closing act, as 'tis the first
 Of wifehood true. This thou wilt grant----

 _Vig._                                    You're bound
 By rites enough!

 _Bion._         Canst stand uncertain on
 So slight a matter?

 _Ard._             Slight? Ah, you know naught
 Of woman! Teach him, prince, that not a nick,
 Or turn, or shade of custom would she spare
 From this most holy ceremony. Wanting but
 The smallest portion that gives leave to say
 The measure lacks, she all her life will grieve,
 Shed secret tears, and wear a blanchen face
 When none knows why.

 _Bion._             You shall not move us. Peace!

 _Vig._ A brawling fancy!

 _Ard._                  Avesta's prince, thou who
 Shalt be my lord, if any lord of earth
 Be mine again, wouldst have my love, or hate?

 _Ban._ Thy love, fair Ardia.

 _Ard._                      Then I pray you, sir,
 Move thy forbearance yet one farther step
 And pluck this boon for me. 'Tis near thy hand,
 And O, how small a thing for you to give,
 But as the sun of all my days to me!
 Without it I may die----

 _Ban._                  Speak not of death. So sweet
 I'll shelter thee, Death's self must bloom
 If he creep near thy bower.

 _Ard._                     May I, my lord,
 Keep honored place by thee when memory mocks
 That place and honor? Grant me this, but this,
 And here I swear if any act of man
 May move a widowed heart, mine shall grow warm
 To thee!

 _Ban._ Do you speak truth?

 _Ard._                    Believe me, sir,
 So dear a thing is this for which I sue,
 That he who gives it must grow dear thereby;
 And if he lift to him my prostrate life,
 This gentle moment shall immortal be
 And sweeten every hour we pass together.
 Remembering this, my captive breast shall be
 His free dominion, and my lips on his,
 If they know warmth, shall take it from this cause,
 This first dear tenderness.

 _Ban._                     We'll please you, mistress.
 Bring in the man again.

      [_Exit a guard_]

 _Vig._                 I beg you, prince----

 _Ban._ By Allah, she shall have her beggar wish,
 For no more reason than she wishes it!

 _Vig._ It is her sickish humor, sir, to look
 On him again. All this wild pother means
 No more than that.

 _Ban._ No more? We'll please her then
 For our good peace to come.

 _Bion._                    A princely kindness.

      [_They talk together. Ardia crosses to altar_]

 _Ard._ Now one more miracle! God live in me,
 And Christ direct my hand!

 _Bion._                   What do you say,
 My sister?

 _Ard._ But a word to mine own heart.

 _Ban._ Nay, mine now, is it not?

 _Ard._                          So much of it
 As dearest lenience may buy, my lord.

      [_Bertrand is brought in guarded_]

 _Bion._ The man is here. Now have your foolish will.

  [_Ardia turns and looks at Bertrand. He is stripped of his rich dress
      and wears only a girdled tunic falling to his knees. Arms and
      feet are bare_]

 _Ban._ [_To Bertrand_] Sir, we permit the lady of our soul
 To end as her heart wills the rite that makes
 Her wife and widow. Touch her not, nor speak.

      [_Bertrand crosses to altar_]

 _Ard._ Why should we touch, when souls inhabit eyes
 And journey on a look? My heaven-lord,
 Here is no priest to bless this act of mine,
 But God will know his altar and the gift
 I lay upon it. The life we thought to live--
 That might have failed, and killed the dream now safe
 From tarnish of the days. Earth has enough
 Of blind and baffled lives, but great her need
 Of dreams. And ours we leave with her, unworn,
 Unpaled, warm round the love-seed she shall nurse
 To million-budded life.

 _Bion._                Come, make an end!

 _Ard._ An end of love? The God of all the worlds
 Cannot do that. Love born this darkest day
 Shall be in flower on man's millennial path
 And touch his step with Heaven.

 _Vig._                         Peace! Be done!

 _Ard._ Ay ... done. My lord, think thou art in the world
 Celestial, and from there smile on me--now--
         [_Draws dagger from her bosom and stabs him. He falls_]
 High God, as thou art Love, I struck for thee!
                                             [_Bends over body_]
 True aim. Full in the heart. I know the place,
 For there my home is--there I live--and now
 My house is down, I, too, must fall----

 _Ban._                                 I'll pay thee!
 What hast thou done?

 _Ard._ What done? A miracle!
 Who now can harm my love?

 _Ban._                   Your promises!
 Your oaths!

 _Ard._     I'd keep them, sir--ay, every one,
 If grief would let me live to be your wife.
 But I am weary, and my heavy stars
 Have left their skies to hang upon me here.
 My veins are empty, all their strength is out.
 Does 't take so much to lift this little blade
 And let it fall again?
      [_Biondel takes the dagger from her_]
                       Think you I need
 So poor a thing? Nay, God has struck for me,
 As I for Him. I go with Vairdelan. [_Kneels by body_]
 Look on this brow, if shame will let ye look.
 An angel shaped it. Ye've unfashioned here
 The work of Heaven. Sweet lips, no roses left?
 Your hand, my lord, and now the sinless star. [_Dies_]

                  [_Curtain_]






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