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The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mortal Gods and Other Plays, by Olive Tilford Dargan.
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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
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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<p class="center1"><big>BOOKS BY OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN</big><br />
<span class="smcap">Published By</span> CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
<br /><br /></p>
<div class='pblockquot'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td align='left'>THE MORTAL GODS and Other Plays.</td><td align='right'>12mo, <em>net.</em> $1.50</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>LORDS AND LOVERS and Other Dramas.</td><td align='right'>12mo, <em>net.</em> 1.50</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>SEMIRAMIS and Other Plays.</td><td align='right'>12mo, <em>net.</em> 1.00</td></tr>
</table></div>
<hr style="width: 100%;" />
<p> </p>
<h2><small>THE MORTAL GODS<br />
AND OTHER PLAYS</small></h2>
<p> </p>
<hr style="width: 100%;" />
<h2>THE MORTAL GODS<br /><br />
<small>AND</small><br /><br />
OTHER PLAYS</h2>
<h3>BY<br /><br />
OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN</h3>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p class="center1"><b>NEW YORK<br />
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SON'S<br />
1912</b></p>
<hr style="width: 100%;" />
<p class="center1"><em>Copyright, 1912, by Charles Scribner's Sons</em><br />
<em>All rights reserved</em><br />
<br />
<em>Published November, 1912</em><br />
<br /></p>
<hr style="width: 100%;" />
<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_MORTAL_GODS">THE MORTAL GODS</a></td><td align='right'>1</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_SON_OF_HERMES">A SON OF HERMES</a></td><td align='right'>107</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'><a href="#KIDMIR">KIDMIR</a></td><td align='right'>221</td></tr>
</table>
<hr style="width: 100%;" />
<h2><a name="THE_MORTAL_GODS" id="THE_MORTAL_GODS"></a>THE MORTAL GODS
<br /><br />
<small>A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS</small></h2>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3><em>CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY</em></h3>
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>HUDIBRAND, <em>King of Assaria</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>HERNDA, <em>his daughter</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>CHARTRIEN, <em>a Prince of Assaria</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>BORDUC, <em>Prime Minister</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>COUNT DORKINSKI, <em>Court Chamberlain</em></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>CORDIAZ, <em>King of Goldusan</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>MEGARIO, <em>Governor of Peonia, a province of Goldusan</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>REJAN L<small>E</small>VAL, <em>a revolutionist</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan='3'>SEÑORA ZIRALAY, <em>his sister</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>ZIRALAY</td><td class="bt br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>RUBIREZ</td><td class="br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>GOLIFET</td><td class="br"></td><td><em>nobles of Goldusan</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>MAZARAN</td><td class="br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>GUILDAMOUR</td><td class="br bb"></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>MASIO</td><td class="bt br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>GARZA</td><td class="br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>GONZALO</td><td class="br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>YSOBEL</td><td class="br"></td><td><em>of Megario's hacienda</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>GRIJA</td><td class="br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>COQURIEZ</td><td class="br"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>IPARRO</td><td class="br bb"></td></tr>
<tr><td align='center' colspan='3'><em>Guests, officers, musicians, peons, &c.</em></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td align='center' colspan='3'><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <em>Begins February, 1911</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='center' colspan='3'><span class="smcap">Place:</span> <em>Assaria; Goldusan</em></td></tr>
</table>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT I</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p class="negidt"><em>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.</em></p>
<p class="negidt"><em>It is winter without, the climate of Assaria's capital city being
similar to that of New York.</em></p>
<p class="negidt"><em>Double doors lower right, through which Count Dorkinski enters to
Hudibrand.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Dor.</em> Your majesty, Sir Borduc has arrived.</p>
<p><em>Hudi.</em> Hot-shod. We'll let him cool.</p>
<p><em>Dor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Where shall he wait,</span><br />
My lord?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> His usual corner. Keep him off<br />
My Delhi rug.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Exit Dorkinski</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poor Bordy's fuming ripe.</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter the Count</em>]</p>
<p><em>Dor.</em> His Excellency calls, your majesty.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Which Excellency? They are thick as hops.</p>
<p><em>Dor.</em> The Governor of Peonia.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">In time and tune.</span><br />
We'll see him here.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Exit Dorkinski</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">A pawn of mine who'd push</span><br />
Beyond his square, and I must humor him<br />
'Neath meditative thumb.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Megario</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Welcome, Megario.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I've travelled far</span><br />
To press your hand.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">We made appointment here,</span><br />
Knowing your visit to Assaria touched<br />
Nothing of state or office.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Accepting his cue</em>] Nothing, sir. [<em>Looks about him</em>]<br />
I thought I left the springtide in my rear,<br />
Three thousand miles or so, but here it greets me.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> A gimcrack of my daughter's. She would freak<br />
With sun and time. My toyshop has no walls.<br />
I juggle too with seasons, climates, zones,<br />
But in the open where there's warrior room,<br />
And startled Fate may spring against my will,<br />
Giving an edge to mastery when I wrest<br />
The whip from Nature, turn it on herself,<br />
And set her elemental slaves to filch<br />
Her gold for me. That, friend, is play.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">For gods</span><br />
And not as thief, but as divinity,<br />
You take from crouching Nature.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Men have said</span><br />
I pile up gold because its glitter soothes<br />
A fever in my eyes. The clacking fools!<br />
I am no Cheops making warts on earth.<br />
No mummy brain! God built my pyramids,<br />
Slaving through dark and chaos till there rose<br />
My iron-hearted hills, and mountains locked<br />
On ago-unyielded treasure waiting me.<br />
There slept my gems till longing became fire<br />
And broke the grip of stone,—there lay my gold,<br />
Re-purged each thousand years till baited Time<br />
Gave up the master's hour.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Hernda has come from the grove and moves up to his side</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Adoringly</em>] And you the master!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Daughter, you owe my lord Megario<br />
Some pretty thanks.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I give them, sir.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">No, no!</span><br />
I pray your Highness, no! My thanks to earth<br />
That bears the flower of you, and to the light<br />
That makes my eyes your beauty's treasurer.<br />
But thanks from you to me, as jewels hung<br />
Upon a beggar's neck, would set my rags<br />
Unkindly in the sun.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Then I am not</span><br />
Your debtor?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Mine the debt, that mounts too fast</span><br />
For feeble payment from thin purse of words.<br />
Ah, every moment adds a suitor hope<br />
To th' bankrupts in my heart.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I fear, my lord,</span><br />
Your coiner's name is Fancy, and I like<br />
Truth's mintage best. [<em>To her father</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">What is this debt of mine,</span><br />
So languished that a word of thanks may be<br />
Its slender cover?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">A word, if beauty speak it,</span><br />
May mantle a bare world.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">His Excellency</span><br />
Is Governor of Peonia——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">In Goldusan!</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> And smoothed my road there——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Nay, your majesty,</span><br />
My aid was but a garnish on the might<br />
That moves with your own name.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Between us then,</span><br />
We saved my holdings through a bluster there.<br />
And what they brought me I've tossed here to make<br />
This smile on winter.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">What? You gave her all?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> How, sir? One word of mine would robe a world.<br />
And my whole self not worth a little spot<br />
Twitched from Spring's garment?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Oh, I'd grind the stars</span><br />
To imperial dust that you might trample them,—<br />
But this—this was a <em>fortune</em>!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">[<em>To Hudibrand</em>] Sir, 'tis true</span><br />
You care not for the gold.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I care for it</span><br />
As men of hero times held dear the sword<br />
That made them lords of battle.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">You are lord</span><br />
Of Peace!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Write that upon the clouds, that eyes<br />
Of men and angels may contending claim<br />
The truth for earth and heaven!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Tush, sir, tush!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Can I forget how at your kingly touch<br />
My fair Peonia, paling in treason's grip,<br />
Thrilled from her deathward droop, renewed her heart<br />
Through safe, ease-lidded nights, and woke once more<br />
The rose of fortune?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There's no rumble now</span><br />
Of riot?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Not a sound comes to our ears<br />
But from the toiling strokes that steadily<br />
Uproll Peonia's wealth.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Yet those who led</span><br />
The last revolt are free.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Not all, your Highness.</span><br />
A few crossed to Assaria, but expedition<br />
Warms on their trail. Rejan LeVal is tracked<br />
To your own capital.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Nay, mend that, sir.</span><br />
We're safe here from such ruck.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">The startled eel</span><br />
Will make for muddy waters,—and 'tis sure<br />
LeVal found murky welcome here.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">My city!</span><br />
What mutinous bolt turns here for him?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">His friends</span><br />
Are friends of power. How else could he elude<br />
The thousand eyes in search?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> [<em>Musing</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Treason at court?...</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> We'll mouse LeVal to 's cranny, do not doubt.<br />
Then we shall ask Assaria's great seal<br />
For his delivery to Goldusan.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> That is assured you.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">But your minister,</span><br />
Sir Borduc, warns——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ha! Warns?</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">He urges that</span><br />
The extraditing power is at pause,<br />
Blocked by the people's will.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I've given my word,—</span><br />
A word that mobbish din ne'er added to,<br />
Nor yet stripped of one letter that I chose<br />
Should spell authority. You ask for more?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Pardon, your majesty! It is enough,<br />
Beyond all stretch of need.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I call to mind</span><br />
That Borduc waits,—and primed for tongue-work too.<br />
The princess will content your Excellency?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>With obeisance to Hernda</em>] 'Tis Heaven's honor!
I have left the earth!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> You waste your art. She's in the milk-maid humor.<br />
Would marry Hob. [<em>Exit, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> The Señor Hob? He says<br />
You'll marry him? [<em>Hernda laughs</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">You care not if I die!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You'll live, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> You'll marry Hob. I die!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> He is not Hob. That is my father's mock<br />
Because he's poor.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>In hope</em>] Ah, poor?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">A beggarly</span><br />
Ten millions,—not a penny more.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ten millions!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> But that's my joy. I would not wed for gold.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> O, pity me! I love you, señorita!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> No, no! I must not hear that.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Then I'll pray</span><br />
Silence to be my friend and speak my dumb<br />
Unuttered heart.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You must not love me, sir.</span><br />
But you may love—my father. When you praised him,<br />
You too seemed fair to me.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'll sing him till</span><br />
The stars lie at our feet, if you will listen!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> He gave your country peace?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">His royal name</span><br />
Is dear as Cordiaz' in the grateful heart<br />
Of Goldusan. That proud land lay unkept.<br />
Her ores intombed, her vales without a plough,<br />
Her rivers wasting down to shipless seas,<br />
Her people starving, while her nobles strove<br />
For shreds of power,—the clouted thing we called<br />
A government. Then on our factions fell,<br />
Strong as a god's, the hand of Hudibrand;<br />
And now, compact, we stand by Cordiaz,<br />
While every mountain groans with golden birth.<br />
And every river turns its thousand wheels,<br />
And every valley buried is in bloom.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> My dearest father! But I knew 'twas so!<br />
And they who starved are fed and happy now?<br />
They reap the bloom and share the golden flood?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> All will be well when once we've scourged the land<br />
Of rebels that drip poison from their tongues,<br />
Stirring the meek and unambitious poor,—<br />
Who sought no life but saintly, noble toil,—<br />
With strangest rage, till maddened they would bite<br />
The fostering hand of God.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We've prisons where</span><br />
We put such troublers. Has your land no jails?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em>'Tis full of them! I mean—ah, we have jails,<br />
But foes like these are wary, slip all watch,—<br />
Flee and dart back, our weariness their charter<br />
To tread with havoc's hoof. If I could find<br />
Rejan LeVal, then might I rest from guard,<br />
But not while he—unlassoed warrigal!—<br />
May canter from his thicket and paw up<br />
Peonia's fields!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">I'll lend an adjutant.</span><br />
Ask Chartrien, who knows each foggy nook<br />
And smirchèd corner of the capital,—<br />
Having once made his pastime serve a quest<br />
For such drab knowledge,—ask him help you find<br />
This traitor.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Chartrien! Nay, the fox is safe<br />
When th' hound too wears a brush.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">You mean the prince?</span><br />
Speak, sir! Who hints me calumny,<br />
Shall make the drum his chorus. I'll hear all.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> A rumor drifts through Goldusan....</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Is that</span><br />
An oddity? Here rumors are too thick<br />
For ears to gather them.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> But this—O, princess....<br />
Fairest of earth, forgive me that I speak!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You do not speak. And that I'll not forgive.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Ah, then,—but first,—is Chartrien near the king?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> No nearer than his heart.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I do offend.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Offence now lies in silence. Speak, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> When I left Goldusan, 'twas said—and with<br />
No muffled hesitance—Prince Chartrien aids<br />
The rebels there, and lays a train to rend<br />
The State apart, that Cordiaz may drop<br />
Into the gap,—then he with plausive cleat<br />
Will make the fissure stanch, and seat himself<br />
In unoppugnèd power.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Why <em>he is Hob</em>! [<em>Silence. They both rise</em>]</span><br />
A mad and sorry tale, you see.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I see.</span><br />
He's in the capital?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Beneath this roof.</span><br />
The palace is his home. My father holds<br />
His meagre millions guarded, nursing them<br />
To a prince's portion.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">We shall meet?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">To-night.</span><br />
He's with a friend—a Spanish gentleman,—<br />
But <em>not</em> from Goldusan.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I made no guess.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Deny that with your eyes. Your tongue's exempt.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> And may I meet the Spanish gentleman?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> That's as he chooses. I may not command him.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Count Dorkinski</em>]</p>
<p><em>Dor.</em> His Highness, sir, is pleased to bid you join him.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> His pleasure is his marshal. [<em>To Hernda, softly</em>] I've your leave<br />
To love your father. That I go from you<br />
To him, is Heaven's proof I do.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit Megario and the Count</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em><span style="margin-left: 9em;">The proof</span><br />
I seek, and would not find, is locked in Hell,<br />
Not Heaven. Megario lied. Oh, Chartrien!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Retreats slowly into grove and pauses out of sight, rear.
Enter, upper left, Chartrien and LeVal</em>]</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> No,——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Prudence, dear LeVal!</span></p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">I shall go mad</span><br />
Shut in this gilded den,—this stifling hold<br />
Of banditry.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Peace, friend!</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'd rather crouch</span><br />
With brats of grime upon an unswept hearth<br />
And claw my bread from cinders, than draw breath<br />
In this gold-raftered house of blood!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Come, come!</span><br />
Your wits fly naked, stripped of every caution,<br />
And beat suspicion up that else might keep<br />
Untroubled bed. Whist! We must move rose-shod<br />
Through these next hours, not clack in passion's clogs.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> I'll out of this! There's surge in me no fear<br />
Can put in bonds.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay, here and here alone</span><br />
Your life is safe. The hounds of Goldusan<br />
Sniff through the cellars. They'll not scent you in<br />
The royal shadow. That's more brilliancy<br />
Than ever lit a rush in houndom. This<br />
My home, I share with you, for mine it is<br />
Till I've secured my gold from Hudibrand.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> Ay, but Megario! While he's here these walls<br />
Pen me in fire.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">His visit is too brief</span><br />
To be a danger.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Danger! To me, or him?</span><br />
If we should meet, his fate as mine would be<br />
In that encounter. These are hands would see to 't!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> LeVal, forget——</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Forget Céleste? My wife?</span><br />
Forget she died of blows while he stood by<br />
And smiled, because <em>she was my wife</em>!<br />
Oh, God! Breathe air with him while this arm hangs<br />
A limp discretion!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Peace! This mood unpent</span><br />
Will wreck us. Keep your room if it must swell.<br />
The princess gazes yonder, and your face<br />
Is badged exposal. Go. I'll meet her question.<br />
'Twill not fash honor if a lie or two<br />
Must be our guard.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exit LeVal upper left. Hernda emerges from grove.
Chartrien waits for her as she comes circuitously, lightly
hovering and hesitating</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>At his side</em>] What lover's this?—dreams still<br />
When love is by. Were he an olden knight<br />
He'd ride to tourney and forget his spurs!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> He would forget the world and fame and God<br />
To see your eyes like this!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You tremble, Chartrien.</span><br />
Love so much?—yet stood here just—a stump—</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> That felt you coming, coming like a bird,<br />
And watched and waited, envying every bough<br />
Where you paused doubting, till you fluttering lit,<br />
Down in the old stump's heart—</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">There, I've forgot!</span><br />
This is my lover ere that lure crept up<br />
From Goldusan. Since you came back, I've felt<br />
The shadow of a difference, and I've heard<br />
The maids of Goldusan can draw men's souls<br />
Out of their bodies for a dance in hell.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> My love!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">O, Chartrien, are you mine? I feel</span><br />
A question in your worship. When your eyes<br />
Are warmest, love lies on them like<br />
The shallow moon-gleam on a deep, dark sea<br />
That is not kin with it. A sea that once<br />
Was mine, and I could go, with circling arms,<br />
Love-lanterned to its depth. But now the dark<br />
Is round me fathomless——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">My own!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I try to rise,</span><br />
To find my wings—and feel the air again<br />
Without your drowning touch upon me——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Hernda!</span><br />
Have I so nearly lost you? Come, beloved,<br />
Sit here, and let me vow me yours again<br />
Till in each word you feel my beating heart.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> My stars shall hear these vows.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Changes the light to pale, evening glow. Rear, right, are
glimpses of sky with frail, moving clouds, faint stars
and a new moon</em>]</p>
<p> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">And see, my moon.</span><br />
Intent and virginal.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>She sits, and Chartrien lies on the ground, his breast covering
her feet</em>]</p>
<p> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Now, now my heart</span><br />
Holds not another thing but love and you!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> No thought of those dread wings?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">None, none! And you?</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 16em;">[<em>Bends over him</em>]</span><br />
All mine. I hold you now, fast in my world.<br />
Sometimes you enter, come within my door.<br />
And then I can not shut it for a wind<br />
That clings about you from a farther sky.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Rises and takes her face between his hands</em>]<br />
There's but one sky!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">A shuddering breath,</span><br />
As from a planet strange, where you have walked<br />
And I shall never go.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">O, shut me in,</span><br />
Rose of a heart! I'll not go out though Life<br />
Beat at the door, and call her giant storms<br />
To knock upon 't.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Is this not life? And this<br />
The only world?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">The only world. My habitat</span><br />
One perfect hour.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">One hour? Forever, love.</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> O, vow it for me, sweet,—again, again!<br />
Till I believe once more in Arcadies<br />
Born of a silken purse. In sunsets caught<br />
In tinted tapestries, with jacinth heart<br />
Gold-bleeding through the woven breath of dream.<br />
In soft moon-hours that drop from painted skies,<br />
In fairy woodlands aye unwintering,<br />
In love's elf-ring no boding star may cross,<br />
And you, my Hernda, sceptred in joy's name,<br />
Tossing the apple planets in your hands—<br />
These little, sovereign hands—as God might do,<br />
Had he, poor God, your power.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Love, you hurt.</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Ah, tears in Arcady?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Oh, what is this</span><br />
Has come between us?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">What? The universe.</span><br />
I can not reach you even when my lips<br />
Are on your heart.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">May I not come to you?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> From this moon-world? No hope of that.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">See then,</span><br />
The day! [<em>Changes the light to sunrise</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Now may I come?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Forever playing!</span><br />
The way lies here.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Steps to window and opens it. A snowy blast rushes in</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Stop, Chartrien! Shut it! Oh,</span><br />
You've killed my Spring!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You will not come?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">You're mad.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Struggles with the window until she closes it, Chartrien
watching her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> You do not like that road. But it is mine.<br />
And children walk it. I have met them there.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Oh, I am frozen! See!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>With sudden contrition, pressing her to his breast</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">No, you are fire.</span><br />
A fire that I will clasp, though it should burn<br />
My holiest temple and betray my soul<br />
To ashes!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> O, my love, what secret curbs<br />
Your nature to this chafe? It rubs even through<br />
Your ardor.—stabs me on your breast.<br />
May I not know it? Is not confidence<br />
Dear blood and life of love? Without it, ours<br />
Must pale, ghost-cold, a chill between locked arms.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Is trust not love's prerogative<br />
More royal sweet than any burdened share<br />
Of secrecy?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Not to the strong!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Smiling</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You strong?</span><br />
By what brave test dost know it?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">And by what</span><br />
Dost know me weak?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The proof awaits. But now,—</span><br />
Emilio needs me,—</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Go!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Sweet, friendship too<br />
Has bonds. Not all are love's.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">He's ill,—your friend?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> As plague-bit life,—no worse.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">You'll wait upon</span><br />
My father? Bid him but good-night?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">No, Hernda.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You shun him, Chartrien. I have watched you keep<br />
A curious distance,—ay, as though your heart<br />
Removed itself while your unwarmèd eyes<br />
Made invoice of its treasure. Once you rushed<br />
Unto his counsel as security<br />
Hived in his word, and you, denied, were lost.<br />
Are those hours gone? If you have grown too large<br />
For his shrunk wisdom, bind you to his need.<br />
Age unsuspected crowns him, and you take<br />
Your young arm out of his.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">He wants no staff.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You'll go no more to Goldusan?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I must.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> And soon?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> When Hudibrand is pleased to free<br />
My fortune from his ward.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You want it all?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Yes, all.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">For Goldusan?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">My greatest need</span><br />
Is there.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> What is that need?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You question me?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> May love not ask?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">If love could understand.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Have I grown dull? I do not know you, Chartrien.<br />
You're so unfeatured by that Spanish cloud,<br />
You're lowering friend. <em>He</em> is the universe<br />
Between our hearts. Ill? No. I saw him here,—<br />
A tropic threat. 'Twas rage broke his suave guard,<br />
Not illness.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Hernda!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">The Lord Megario</span><br />
Has asked to compliment a brother guest.<br />
May he be seen? Does his unmannered storm<br />
Spare one amenity?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Megario knows?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Knows what?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Oh!—nothing.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">So much more than naught</span><br />
Your cheek is pale with it.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">No matter, Hernda.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> An ashen matter truly, yet not light<br />
As nothing. But your answer. May our guests<br />
Exchange the roof-tree greeting?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">No.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Why not?</span><br />
That "no" trails consequence. It can not be<br />
Your period.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> They are enemies.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I knew!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Megario dealt my friend a bitter wrong,—<br />
The foulest wrong that man may put on man.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> He's loyal to my father. I know that<br />
Of him,—and of Emilio—nothing.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Sweet,</span><br />
I beg one day!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">One day? What's hatching here</span><br />
That's one day short its time?</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter, lower right, Hudibrand, Megario, and Borduc</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Drawing Hernda aside</em>] To-morrow, love!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> To-night!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">You've won your suit, Megario.</span><br />
If by our presence in your Goldusan<br />
We can advance that sister country's peace.<br />
The journey's naught. We'll count it done.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">My lord,</span><br />
All revolution will dispel as air<br />
Before your eye. Our Cordiaz is great,<br />
But his familiar subjects are too near<br />
To take his height, while you they know to be<br />
Of giant measure; and when once they see<br />
Your majesties are brothered, Cordiaz<br />
Will grow your twin in stature.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You've our word.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I treasure it,—and lest repeated thanks<br />
Stale their sincerity. I beg to say<br />
Good-night.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> You have our leave. Good-night, my lord.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Megario bows impressively to Hudibrand, slightly to Borduc,
and is passing out when Hernda, who has crossed
right, intercepts him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You leave us early, Lord Megario.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I do not leave, your Highness. I am driven.<br />
I go to drudgery with my secretaries,<br />
Foregoing even the sleep that might have brought<br />
Your dreamèd face to me.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Is 't still your wish</span><br />
To meet our Spanish guest?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">He grants me that?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> He has refused a meeting.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ah!... Refused.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> But there's a way, my lord. When you have passed<br />
The second door without, turn to the left.<br />
You'll find a vaulted passage,—at the end<br />
An entrance to my wood. Come in, and wait.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> You grace me so?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is not grace that breaks</span><br />
The covenant of salt. But who keeps faith<br />
With traitors? He is one, by every sign.<br />
An evil thing blown to our royal hearth<br />
Through Chartrien's open love that lets all winds<br />
Pour in. And I'll have proof of it!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Over her hand</em>] You shall. [<em>Exit, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Crossing to Hernda</em>] A long-spun courtesy, and with one merit,—<br />
It ended in good-night.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Gayly</em>] Unruly yet?<br />
A truce until to-morrow!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You believe me?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I would not doubt you for a world compact<br />
Of virtues only, but it's no unreason<br />
To fear you are deceived.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Dear Hernda——</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Come!</span><br />
I love you, Chartrien. Let us have an hour<br />
As light as joy, as sweet as peace, and call<br />
Your friend to share it. He shall smile for me.<br />
I vow it, by his most ungentle frown!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> 'Twill take your deepest magic, for his heart<br />
Holds naught that smiles are made of.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Bring him here.</span><br />
I'll make that heart my wizard bowl and mix<br />
Such sweet and merry potions in 't, his griefs<br />
Must doff their gray for motley. You shall see!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Art such a witch? [<em>Exit, upper left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What's this I do? My soul</span><br />
Leans shameward, but I'll trounce it up. The man,<br />
If innocent, keeps so, untouched and clear.<br />
If he aims darkly, creeps a weaponed hate<br />
Upon my noble father, do I worse<br />
Than cancel so the unwrought half of 's crime,<br />
And make him less a villain?</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">May I speak</span><br />
Against this southward jaunt?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Loud as you please,</span><br />
My Bordy, but I go.</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Your Highness makes</span><br />
Assaria bow too low.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The State shall have</span><br />
No name in this. I go as Cordiaz' friend,<br />
Not as Assaria's king. I've interests there<br />
That sort with quiet venture. Give it out<br />
This move in part concerns my health.</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">That much</span><br />
I welcome. You should rest, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Ha? Rest?</span><br />
The twin of death! I'll rest when I am dust.<br />
Nay, then I hope that storm and hurricane<br />
Will keep me whirling. No,—I'll not go lame<br />
Even in report. Say that this move concerns<br />
My pleasure solely,—solely, Borduc.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Father,</span><br />
I have a suit. May I not go with you?<br />
I long to make that land where you are loved,<br />
More vivid than the dream that now it is.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> And find what lodestar there draws Chartrien<br />
From constancy? Well, you shall go.</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Tut, tut!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Dear father!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> This will give domestic screen<br />
And color to our tack.</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">A gadding throne—</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Good Borduc, we will leave the throne at home.<br />
Do not <em>you</em> stay?</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> I've some authority,<br />
You'll not dispute, my lord. Much as may go<br />
With broad election. My investiture<br />
Lies in the people's choice.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Ay, you're their bark<br />
Of freedom, where their pride may hoist full sail,<br />
But who wots better, Bordy, that 'tis puffed<br />
With winds that know my port?</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> They think their choice<br />
Is free. Sincere in that, they give my post<br />
A dignity not even your majesty<br />
May mock me out of.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Fools are noted most</span><br />
For their sincerity,—a virtue that<br />
Must stand a cipher if uncertified<br />
By wit or wisdom.</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sir, Assarians</span><br />
Are not the fools you think them. They are men<br />
Who have the patriot's heart, and on their flag<br />
Where you write "power" their love reads "liberty."</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> It does, praise be! And they may keep their flag<br />
To wear around their eyes long as they will.<br />
For then I dance my measure, while they bump<br />
In hither-whither hoodman blind and pay<br />
My fiddler too!</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">And what's my part in this?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> The fiddler's, Borduc.</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And your next tune</span><br />
Is Goldusan. Come, let's rehearse.</p>
<p><em>Bor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">My lord,——</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exeunt, lower right, as Chartrien and LeVal enter left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You've come, dear Señor! Was it savagery<br />
To wrest the hour from you?</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Too kindly done</span><br />
For such a name,—though I was deep in bond<br />
To sober thoughts, your Highness.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Be so still.</span><br />
We would not force our humor on your heart,<br />
But share your own.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> [<em>Smiling</em>] Can you be sad?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">As rains</span><br />
That drench October. As the gray<br />
That fringes twilight on the dark of moons.<br />
As seas that sob above a swallowed ship,<br />
Repenting storm. [<em>Leads to seat, right</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Come, sir,—and I'll be sad</span><br />
In what degree you choose, though I could wish it<br />
Nearer a smile than rheum, and not so heavy<br />
But that its sigh may float upon a song,<br />
A gentle song that might be sorrow's garland<br />
When moan wears down. Wilt hear one now, my lord?<br />
I have a music-maker yon whose lute<br />
Was nectared in a poet's tears the hour<br />
He lost his dream. Say you will hear him! Nay,<br />
That courtier "yes" can not o'ertake the "no"<br />
Sped from your eyes. We'll have no music. Yet<br />
The soul must love it ere one can be sad<br />
To th' very sweet of sadness. O, I know!</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> I love it, but not here.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">What here forbids?</span><br />
My bower! The eye translates its tenderness<br />
To fairy sound, nor need of pipe or strings.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> I can not hear the bells of fairydom<br />
When life is making thunder's music 'gainst<br />
This bauble house of play——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Sir, you forget——</span></p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> Nay, I remember!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What do you remember?</span></p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> Ah!... Pardon, princess!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">May I mend this peace?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Sitting again by LeVal</em>] It is not broken yet.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 17em;">Your gentleness</span><br />
Has saved it, not my manners.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Oh, my lord,</span><br />
Would I had grace to cover sorrow's breach<br />
As smoothly as a gap in courtesy!<br />
Then you should smile!</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I have a happiness</span><br />
That makes it thievery in me to take<br />
Your pity. You've a sadder need.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I'll yield</span><br />
No jocund vantage to that brow of yours.<br />
You hear this sombre braggart, Chartrien?<br />
Speaks as I were Despair's own fosterling!</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> You are. As I am Hope's. Do you not gaze<br />
On earth's foul spots and cry "A sad world this!"<br />
"We must endure!" "The dear God wills it so!"<br />
And such and such like seed of misery<br />
Till hopelessness sprouts chronic?—building then<br />
Your house of life amid its smelling weeds,<br />
Where you may dance—or pray—till you forget<br />
Your creed keeps earth in tears?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">And yours, my lord?</span></p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> Gives her a singing and forefeeling heart<br />
Whose courage cleaves renunciation's cloud<br />
That swathes her splendor and would sighing keep<br />
Her livid 'mong the stars!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You would divide</span><br />
Omnipotence with God, and arrogant,<br />
Assume the bigger half. But there are woes<br />
That even your hope, though it go winged and armored,<br />
Must fall before.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Not one that I'll not face</span><br />
Until its features mould me destiny.<br />
The shape of radiance it shall wear for man<br />
'Neath an unslandered Heaven! I could not live<br />
If in the life about me I saw not<br />
The world within this world, and sped my hope<br />
The way that it shall take.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Is not that way</span><br />
Called Peace, Emilio?</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Not the peace that spills</span><br />
More blood than war, builds bigger jails, and leaves<br />
More waifs to suck the stunting, poisonous breast<br />
Of Charity! Peace as white ashes spread<br />
Upon injustice' fly-blown wrack——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Leaving him</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You are</span><br />
A revolutionist!</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">And black to you,</span><br />
For revolution leads into the horizon,<br />
And must be figured dark to rearward eyes<br />
Though God beyond gives welcome.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Coming gently back</em>] <span style="margin-left: 2em;">May we not</span><br />
Be patient even as Christ, who found this world<br />
The home of poverty and left it so?<br />
Did he not say the poor are ever with us?</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> You too must tap that last and golden nail<br />
In th' pauper's coffin!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">It is the nail of truth,</span><br />
If Christ spoke true.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Words uttered to his day,</span><br />
Not to all time. Not as a deathless brand<br />
Burning his own millennium. Not meant<br />
To take from man his goal, condemning him<br />
To hug an ulcer to the sick world's end,<br />
Which even your bosom must take to whitest bed<br />
Although your festrous partner be not guessed<br />
Nor visible. But if he did mean that——<br />
That vicious thing—then he is false as hell,<br />
Denying man's bright destiny,—and I,<br />
Who vouch the triumph of an angel race,<br />
Am more a god than he!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You dare blaspheme——</span></p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> Because it once was said to men, whom worms<br />
Made dust of twice ten hundred years ago,<br />
"The poor are always with you," such as you<br />
Shall not forever pick your way to ease<br />
O'er broken bodies, lifting up white brows<br />
And hiding crimson feet! Daring to make<br />
The Christ your sheltering sanction while you feed<br />
On others' lives, and keep injustice sleek<br />
Even as you cosset that dim thing, your soul,<br />
And preen the wings you think bear you aloft<br />
The puddled world!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You lie! You do not know</span><br />
Our gentle hearts, our——</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Gentle? O, you're nice,</span><br />
You later cannibals, and will not eat<br />
Of babes at table, but you'll pipe their blood<br />
From unoffending distance, while you pray<br />
Your conscience numb and swear the source is clean.<br />
Some dare to name that fount the Love of God,<br />
And kneel him thanks!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Oh, mad and impious!</span><br />
Who is this, Chartrien, you've dared call your friend?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Megario steps from the grove</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> He's dumb as prudence, but my tongue is free.<br />
This is Rejan LeVal, the man who hates<br />
Your father,—and my country's enemy.</p>
<p><em>LeV.</em> [<em>Plunging toward Megario</em>] Murderer!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Grasping LeVal</em>] Come! At once!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Your pardon, prince.</span><br />
I must delay you. I feared your sympathy<br />
Would gird itself 'gainst justice, and took care<br />
To balk escape. [<em>To officer who appears behind him</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Be off with him. You know</span><br />
Your road. No stop this side Peonia's border.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Outlawry this! Stop, sir! You will not dare<br />
Kidnap him on this soil!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Laughs</em>] Where Hudibrand<br />
Is king?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit officer with LeVal, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> This strains your privilege, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> His privilege? My God! Did you....</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">I did.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> No third voice here is cordant. I will leave you.<br />
My thousand times most gracious lady, thanks!<br />
Again I bid you happiest good-night! [<em>Exit</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I am no adder, though your bitter eyes<br />
Give me that name.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Not bitter. In my heart,</span><br />
That wrapped you as the South its dearest bud,<br />
There's nothing left to warm the thought of you<br />
Even with my hate. You are the crown, the peak,<br />
The unmeaning top of all to which I'm most<br />
Indifferent. [<em>Turns away</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Look at me!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I look, and know</span><br />
My eyes till now were cankered, look and see<br />
The whole fair lie you are.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nay, Chartrien!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> The book is open. There the brow yet shines<br />
As God o'erlilied it,—an altar urn<br />
Stuffed with profane decay. Those are the eyes<br />
Like springs within a wood where no road leads<br />
With murking pilgrim dust, yet Innocence<br />
There paused looks up no more. That is the hand<br />
That as a comrade angel's took my friend's,—<br />
Reached out as though it parted Heaven's veil<br />
To draw his grief within, then clapped him down<br />
To Hell.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> The place for traitors. Let him go.<br />
This moment is for us. 'Tis true your eyes<br />
Were cankered, and I thought by surgeon means<br />
To give them health, but deeper than the eyes<br />
This trouble's seat. Deep as your changèd soul,<br />
That forfeits its divinity to link<br />
With an infection. Here you stood and heard<br />
Those poured-out profanations with no move<br />
Or sound of protest. That was left for me.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> What truth may pierce such ignorance, fatuous, thick!<br />
That man,—Megario,—with whom you've struck<br />
Alliant palm, twisted a lawless law<br />
To his deformed desire, and took the lands—<br />
The priceless valley lands of Cana Ru—<br />
From gentle dwellers there, whose titles bore<br />
The rooted claim of dear ancestral graves<br />
Nine generations deep,—and when they stood<br />
The guardians of their doors, faced them with guns,<br />
Dragged them to his bribed courts, weighed them with fines,<br />
And sent them to his burning maguey fields<br />
To slave and rot.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">No—don't——</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">The lands were sold</span><br />
To Hudibrand——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">It can not be!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Not be?</span><br />
That cry is stale as ignorance, as old<br />
As wrong. I've heard it till my ears refuse<br />
To register its emptiness. LeVal,<br />
It was, rose first against Megario,—<br />
Stood up and urged men to be Man,—and this,<br />
That makes archangels in the ranks of Heaven,<br />
Was treason upon earth. He lived—escaped—<br />
But not his wife. Anointed woman, such<br />
As centuries with conjoined virtues breed<br />
Once and no more! She was condemned, enslaved,<br />
And toiling in the steaming fields, fell down,<br />
Was flogged, and died.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> No! no! no! no!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">So she</span><br />
Is free. But now LeVal goes back. My friend!<br />
O, giant heart! I see you stagger, drop,<br />
As feverous as the smitten earth——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Who could</span><br />
Believe such things? You're wrong! You must—you shall<br />
Be wrong! He was a traitor, bitter-souled.<br />
Undoing my father's work!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Farewell!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Oh, Chartrien,</span><br />
I did it for the best!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The woman's cry.</span><br />
She'd wreck a world, and from that earthquake piled<br />
Look up to say she did it for the best.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You will not go? You loved me one hour past.<br />
I am not changed. I'm Hernda still.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">The same.</span><br />
And yet I loved you. But no blush need burn<br />
The soul escaped enchantment. 'Twas a charm<br />
Enringed me with its bale till helpless there,<br />
And feeble as a babe in bassinet,<br />
I cooed away my manhood,—emptied time<br />
With infant fingering toward your protean hair!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You <em>loved</em> me!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">More than ever could be laid</span><br />
To madness' charge, or god that passion whelms<br />
With mortal longing till his skies become<br />
His prison, and dark earth Elysian ground<br />
Beneath the feet he loves!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>With arms beseeching</em>] Here, Chartrien, here!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Even when my eyes—so late—were wide to wrong<br />
That binds the race to pain's dread Caucasus,<br />
My mad imagination laid the gift<br />
Of seership on you, dreamed that you would go<br />
To meet the gleam of the delivering days,——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> With you!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sail any sea of venture, beat</span><br />
Through any storm to make the prophet's port,—<br />
White priestess vassal to the truth that leads<br />
The planet into light!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Together, Chartrien!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> That was my dream. Then coming to your side.<br />
There was no life but yours,—no world that bled<br />
And felt the vulture feeding. Groans of men<br />
Grew still, or like the unavailing hum<br />
Of far-off, aimless bees, scarce reached my ears<br />
That heard, more near, as music from new earth,<br />
Your children call me father. Ay, 'twas but<br />
The storming undersea of passioning sex<br />
That breaking to the sky o'erlaid my stars<br />
And wore the mask of Heaven! That ebbless power,<br />
That spawning tide of Nature, by whose might<br />
She took primordial forts and made Life hers!<br />
Still does it tear belated, unassuaged,<br />
In wreck about the Mind's aspiring fanes.<br />
And shakes the nesting Spirit from her towers,<br />
Her heavenly brood unfledged!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Oh! Oh!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Here—now—</span><br />
I beat it back, and go my way unmated<br />
Till beauty fair as yours has bred a soul<br />
And signals me! [<em>Exit</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Stay, Chartrien! Oh, my love!</span></p>
<p class="center1"><br />[<em>Falls. Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT II</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Unsoft as winter! Thou hast brought thy north,<br />
With thee, a frigid shade, here where the hours<br />
Are poppy-fingered, and their dreaming breasts<br />
Unshuttered as the summer!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Is it true,</span><br />
This joy, that smiles as though its fountained heart<br />
Could not be emptied?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">True as that I love you.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> But if it is no mask, why should revolt<br />
O'ercloud your borders?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">There's no just revolt.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> But Chartrien said——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Are you yet poison-tinct</span><br />
With that old rebel tale his credulous heart<br />
Dressed new in his while honor till both grew<br />
One sooty treason?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Where is Chartrien now?</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Wherever he may hatch a discontent<br />
And cluck us trouble. But of late he spurs<br />
His heart of venture, and dartles to our towns<br />
To stir the scum there.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Scum? You've such a thing</span><br />
In Cordiaz' happy land? I'll see that scum.<br />
It breathes, does 't not? Has eyes, and tongue?<br />
Can answer if one speaks?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You're merry, princess.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> As graves at night. All is not open here.<br />
I shall go farther,—knock at doors where Truth<br />
Keeps honest house, not gowned for holiday.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> One want we have,—that you will stay with us<br />
And be the fairy soul of Goldusan.<br />
Then must our land, so measureless endeared,<br />
Be cherished as the darling care of Heaven,<br />
Where storm may breathe but as a twittering bird<br />
That fears to shake its nest.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You've only words!</span><br />
Words like these thousand-thousand smiles that seem<br />
Half real and half painted,—teasing, strange,—<br />
All feeding one illusion round my way<br />
Till even the ground unqualifies beneath me<br />
And makes each step a question.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">'Tis the doubt</span><br />
You look through that transforms our face<br />
Of truth and paints us vaguely hued.<br />
O, for our many smiles, wilt not give one?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Nay, there's a darkness fringing on this grove.<br />
It creeps above the walls, it touches me,<br />
And makes me shudder winding at my feet!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> You've sipped of fancy at a witch's knee! [<em>Plucks a flower</em>]<br />
But see,—your serpent shadows nurture this.<br />
Confess to its perfection, and be shriven<br />
Of any thought less fair.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Oh, if I might!</span><br />
No, keep it. Let us find our friends.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Drops the flower</em>] <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">My hand</span><br />
Defiles it for you.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay——</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Where is the fan</span><br />
I carried yester-night?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">'Tis—lost.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">'Tis burnt!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> What wind's your gossip?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Truth paused at my ear.</span><br />
But, princess, if there's any charm will draw<br />
Your eyes to me unburdened of their hate,<br />
I'll find it though it lie beneath the ruin<br />
Of every other hope!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I'll leave you, sir.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Forgive me! Love will speak,—ay, storm its need.<br />
Though each vain word pile up the barricade<br />
That fends the heart desired.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">My lord, no hate</span><br />
Is in that barrier. I'm free of that.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Thanks for that little much. Your highness speaks<br />
Of journeying. What can I say to gild<br />
My own Peonia till it distant gleams<br />
The gem of pilgrimage? There you will see<br />
How earth is dressed when the devoted sun<br />
Is pledged to her adorning. Trees that mass<br />
Their bloom in forest heavens, giving her<br />
A nearer sky. Unthwarted vines that scarf<br />
Her mountain shoulders with their pendent clouds.<br />
Lakes where a dreamer's bark may drift unoared<br />
And chance no port save beauty. Everywhere<br />
The dart and wave of color that would beckon<br />
A neighbor planet looking once this way.<br />
Come, be my guest. One day! I'll ask no more.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I do not know. Señora Ziralay<br />
Will be my guide. I go with her.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">With her?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> What is 't? I touch the shadow. You are not<br />
Her friend?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> She hates in secret, while her smile<br />
Levies the world for love.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'll hate where she does,</span><br />
And know my soul is safe.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Her husband holds</span><br />
By love and purse to Cordiaz, but she<br />
Is a LeVal.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> LeVal? And kin to—<em>him</em>?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Rejan? His sister. And I know her nature<br />
Is tinted as her blood, whatever hue<br />
It wears at court.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">A sister to the man</span><br />
That I gave up to death. And I have dared<br />
To love her—take her kiss——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Cautioning</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4em;">She's here.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter, lower right, Señora Ziralay and Guildamour</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Señora!</span><br />
We spoke of you.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> And with such gloom?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">No, no!</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> It lingers yet, my lord. Do I in absence cast<br />
Such knitted shadows?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Safely asked of us,</span><br />
Who know your bright philosophy. How fares<br />
That magic broom with which you'd sweep the earth<br />
Of every ill? Is 't still invincible?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> Much worn of late, my lord, as you should know,<br />
Who give it work.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You'd leave us not one grief</span><br />
To keep us praying and rebuilding Heaven?<br />
Abolish Death perhaps?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">True mock! I would</span><br />
Except the death that's like a waiting bed<br />
When not another turn may mend the day;<br />
When sleep is sweeter than the thumbèd book,<br />
And hearth-near voices drowse like waves that lap<br />
Shores unconcerned. Now we are murdered, all.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> No, no. Señora!</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ay! Do we not vaunt,</span><br />
And set it rarely down, a thing to note,<br />
If age unmoor the life-disusèd raft,<br />
For th' chartless cruise?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Now we go hurried out,</span><br />
With half our dreams unpacked, and earth made poor<br />
With a few grains of dust where should have risen<br />
Our wisest years in flower.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Fate, fate, Señora!</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> What's fate but ignorance? And not always that<br />
Comes hobbling with excuse. Sometimes a man,<br />
Whose eyes fling lances at the foes of Life,<br />
Is knouted from the world——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">No more, I pray!</span><br />
This is a festal night. Reserve your sermon<br />
For our next fast.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>A musical group plays softly under trees left. Enter
lower right, Hudibrand, Cordiaz, Rubirez, Vardas, Ziralay
and others</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Here, daughter? You've been sought.</span></p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> The search was mine, your highness. I would beg<br />
A grace of you.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You grant one as you beg,<br />
Your majesty. I'll not do less than give<br />
Your own again. But pray you name it, sir.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> This garden where our amity has borne<br />
Its fairest blossom shall be called henceforth<br />
The Grove of Peace, and we would beg your highness<br />
To queen our christening.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">A queenly part,</span><br />
And royally I thank you, but I'll play it<br />
With humblest prayer that Heaven may keep unbroken<br />
These new-sworn bonds between my land and yours.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> So pray we all.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Is this our scene?</span></p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Not here.</span><br />
Come you this way, my friends. We'll cast the wine<br />
To yon cascade, and let the waters bear it<br />
Down to my capital.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">This peace will prove</span><br />
As stout as any spider's thread that swings<br />
In a blowing rain. Fah!</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Climb what hill you please,</span><br />
You see the rebels' smoke.</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">But where in name</span><br />
Of magic does Bolderez get his gold?<br />
The rebels we pick up have lost no meals.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> Enough he gets it. Goldusan sleeps well.<br />
Bolderez is so near that if his men<br />
Were eagles they could pick out Cordiaz' eyes<br />
And he'd not wake to miss 'em.</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Cordiaz</span><br />
Is not asleep, but so bedimmed and fooled<br />
By a thievish Cabinet that what he sees<br />
Takes any name they give it.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He is old.</span></p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> Ah, there you hit it. Warriors should die young.<br />
When age unsoldiers them their field-worn hearts<br />
Have no defence against a crafty peace,<br />
And falling power will seize on any prop<br />
Be 't foul or fair, to keep on legs.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">My faith!</span><br />
His crutches are so villanous, a fall<br />
Were better than his gait.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Ziralay, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> Well, Ziralay,<br />
What news?</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> Where's Cordiaz?</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">He comes.</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter group from the cascade</em>]</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> [<em>To Cordiaz</em>] <span style="margin-left: 8em;">My lord,</span><br />
The Assarian prince is captured, and is held<br />
Within the town.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> What? Chartrien?</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Yes, my lord.</span></p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> Fit period to this dedicated day!<br />
Our gentle bonds are now forged whole. The man<br />
Who was Bolderez' hope, most luminous<br />
Of all who drew rebellion to him, now<br />
Is darkly fallen.</p>
<p><em>Rub.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">This golden aid cut off,</span><br />
Bolderez stands so bare his nakedness<br />
Will sprint to nearest cover.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I'll see his face.</span><br />
Bring here the prisoner.</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'll speed the order,</span><br />
Your majesty. [<em>Exit</em>]</p>
<p><em>Rub.</em> Shall he be shot, my lord?</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> Shot? No. But kept close prisoned.</p>
<p><em>Rub.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">That is mercy</span><br />
You have denied the blood of Goldusan.<br />
Why grant it to Assaria?</p>
<p><em>Var.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">In him swells</span><br />
A strength was never in LeVal. I urge<br />
His instant death.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">No, friends. He is a son</span><br />
Of our great neighbor, and his death would wound<br />
The courtesy of nations that is kept<br />
By lenience unabraded.</p>
<p><em>Var.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Breath so bold</span><br />
Will from a prison fan the treachery<br />
Whose flame would die without it.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Father, speak!</span></p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> We'll hear our friend, Assaria's majesty,<br />
If he have word for us.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I pray your highness</span><br />
To let no ghostly and unfounded fear<br />
Of my Assaria——</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Fear, my lord?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I mean</span><br />
No more than ask you to be just, nor let<br />
My presence here enforce your chivalry<br />
To do your country wrong. Think of your people,<br />
Not the approval of a gazing land<br />
Whose distant nod is given in ignorance<br />
Of your stern cause.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Here's not my father! So</span><br />
The clock runs backward, and time ends.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>To Cordiaz</em>] <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Your highness,</span><br />
My voice is not so loud as others here,<br />
But could I send it far as sound may go,<br />
It should take mercy's part in this debate.</p>
<p><em>Var.</em> You need no trump, my lord. A limpet's whistle<br />
Would tell us where you stand.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I stand with Cordiaz,</span><br />
His majesty of Goldusan!</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">This matter</span><br />
Is not for open market. Come, my friends,<br />
Let us go in. Please you to walk before.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> Is 't kindly done, my lord, to pose your station<br />
In public against mine?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">My neutral words</span><br />
You've packed with import all your own. I strive<br />
To bend not right or left, but keep my way<br />
As even as Justice.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>To Señora</em>] Justice! There's a stone<br />
That was my father.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Yet, my lord, this prince</span><br />
Is of your house.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Is it for Cordiaz</span><br />
To teach me mercy?</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">By my soul!</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I know</span><br />
Whence starts this softness. Mercy has no fane<br />
Where you leave offering.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I know you too!</span><br />
By holy Heaven, your head was never bared<br />
In Justice' temple! You now seek my fall,<br />
Because I've turned at last to check the hand<br />
That rifles Goldusan. Is 't not enough<br />
That I've unjewelled all her treasured hills<br />
To alien avarice—that her forests bleed<br />
The priceless sap of all primeval Springs<br />
Into your golden stream? But I must lay<br />
My people under bond,—sell them as slaves<br />
To buy your stolen railways!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Stolen, sir?</span><br />
I've paid——</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> I know what you have paid! You've sent<br />
Your henchmen creeping in the night, to buy<br />
At beggar's price our toil-built roads, and where<br />
You could not buy, you bribed and thieved, till all<br />
Was yours!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> What of <em>my</em> toil, that built the lines<br />
Through half your provinces?</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You paid yourself!</span><br />
Took from my governors, half gulls, half thieves<br />
Of your own breed, a hundred times the worth<br />
Of every graded foot, in lands and mines<br />
And water-power that holds the prisoned light<br />
Of robbed futurity! Now we must buy<br />
Once more those tracks, long over-bought,—pay you<br />
A value centuple for every mile,—<br />
Pay you in bonds—bonds in hell's verity—<br />
Whose interest will outrun each reckoned year<br />
The summed returns from our fool's purchase! No!<br />
That is my word while I am Goldusan!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> You wake too late. I'll tell you so, my lord,<br />
Since this imprudent burst thrusts courtesy<br />
From court. Your ministers have given assent——</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> Have <em>given</em>! You'll over-steal enough<br />
To quit their boldest price!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'll not defend</span><br />
Your chosen servants, sir.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <em>My</em> servants! Oh,<br />
What State is free from scuttling greed that bores<br />
For treasure through the stanchest hold?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> This moral chant comes late from you, my lord,<br />
Who've fingered heavily in many a pie<br />
Spiced in the devil's kitchen.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">But to sell</span><br />
My people! Pay you this devouring price<br />
For stock that hardy yields the groaning third<br />
Of interest on your bonds! What shall we do<br />
To pay it? Rob our treasury, and ask<br />
Our worn-out slaves to fill it up again?<br />
Not ask, but goad and lash,—for you must have<br />
Your own—you honest mortgagees of babes<br />
Unborn——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Is all the scarlet on our hands?<br />
What of that mountain province, sold entire<br />
To foreign pockets, and the dwellers there<br />
Torn up like shrieking roots and cast abroad<br />
To fasten where they could?</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">And where was that</span><br />
But in your hell-mouthed mines? You wanted slaves<br />
And got them.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I shall die, Señora!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Listen!</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> The tyrant Cordiaz grown pitiful?<br />
Then stones are butter, alabaster is<br />
Uncrumpled down. You should have wept before<br />
The Pueblo strike, then fewer corpses had<br />
Gone out to sea.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> Don't name that thing to me!<br />
Don't speak of it! I will not bear that curse!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Mine aged convert, lies it in your will,<br />
Or juster Heaven's?</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">'Twas your property</span><br />
My troops defended—and Rubirez lied.<br />
Swore that the men foamed mad as tuskèd beasts,<br />
And must be trashed to place,—men who had asked<br />
No more than bread when you shut up your doors——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Not I, my friend.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Your tool then. One of all</span><br />
Your million hookèd hands fast in the heart<br />
Of my poor country, shut your doors, thereby<br />
To starve the wretches till they crawled to you<br />
And begged their chains again. But they—their veins<br />
Were not all tapped—they'd blood left, and arose<br />
From their dumb prayers to <em>fight</em> for life—and then....</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> You sent the troops.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Because Rubirez lied!</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Because you knew there'd be no after-sale<br />
For your high favors, once let titles drift<br />
Unguaranteed. And when your work was done—<br />
<em>Your</em> work, my tear-washed saint, why weary patience<br />
Could not take further time to count the dead,<br />
Or dig so many graves. They were piled up<br />
And carted to the sea——</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Oh, every tide</span><br />
Brings back their faces—staring, staring up!<br />
Will God not answer them? I dare not shut<br />
My eyes....</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> And this is why you weep so late?<br />
Come, Cordiaz, you're broken. Leave a throne<br />
Your own fears shake. You know that I must win.<br />
Own you are mastered——</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Mastered! While I've breath</span><br />
I am a king. If I win peace of God,<br />
And his white angel let my dark soul out,<br />
'Twill be for this—the last throe of my strength<br />
Was spent against you!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Madly you've uncased</span><br />
Your madness, and I know my weapons.</p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">So!</span><br />
I too, my lord, know how to sleep and wake<br />
With hand on steel.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Then is there more to say?</span></p>
<p><em>Cor.</em> All's said. We're waited for. Assaria,<br />
Will 't please you enter?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I thank you, Goldusan. [<em>They go in</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Don't comfort me, Señora. Not a breath.<br />
I'll not disfigure shame with comfort's patch,<br />
But droop as low as leprous dust, and take<br />
Some pride in that. 'Tis dark here, dark. Pray God<br />
I am asleep!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dear princess!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Men do well</span><br />
To keep the women blind. If once they knew,<br />
They'd breed no more, but let a bairnless world<br />
Escheat to God. Yet you, Señora, knew,<br />
And you have children. By your motherhood<br />
You've bound you Life's accomplice,—given it heart<br />
And veins and an accepting soul!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I have!</span><br />
Deny our hearts these babes, and we deny<br />
The future that we fight for. Ah, defeat<br />
May be endured by those who hold in lap<br />
The victors of to-morrow!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Oh, my father!</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> This truth was edged and swift. You should have had<br />
Love's lips to teach you——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I've been taught, my friend,</span><br />
But would not learn. [<em>Rising</em>] Señora, it was I<br />
Betrayed your brother!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Yes.... I know.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">To death!</span><br />
You do not understand. I killed him!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">No.</span><br />
There, love,—forget a little. I've a hope<br />
He is not dead.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Not dead? What gives you hope?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> Perhaps the nameless mentor in the heart<br />
That tells us when our loved shrines are lit<br />
And when they're out forever. But there's more.<br />
Whenever Lord Megario's eye meets mine<br />
There's something couched there speaks me living wrong,<br />
Not wrong that's ended—locked within a grave<br />
No prayer may open. He is burning yet<br />
With uncompleted vengeance—and its shame.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Señora, you've a plan!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">'Twill take much gold.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Ah, I have that.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And courage.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Well!</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Such as,</span><br />
We're told, no woman has.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Here is my life,</span><br />
And any Fate may have it that will make<br />
Your brother live. Will you forgive me then?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> [<em>Kissing her</em>] Ah, dear, you could not know....</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">How did you hear?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> From Chartrien.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You are friends?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">So true he seems</span><br />
Not friend but friendship to my soul. And I<br />
Talk here, while yonder he——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">They dare not! No!</span><br />
My father would.... My father? Oh, Señora! [<em>Sobs hopelessly</em>]</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> We'll find a door to this.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Would Ziralay</span><br />
Not help?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> Had he the wit, he would not dare.<br />
While I'm his wife he must keep double guard<br />
Against suspicion.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Oh!</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">If there's one true,</span><br />
'Tis Guildamour. I'll go to him.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">At once!</span><br />
He took that path.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I know what shade he seeks</span><br />
When he would brood.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Starting up</em>] Oh!—Guildamour!</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Your highness!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Leaves his party chattering lower left, and crosses to Hernda</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Señora seeks you.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Ah, about the prince?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> We have a hope, my lord, your hand may turn<br />
Some stone of rescue.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Mine are powerless hands,</span><br />
Pinned to inaction's cross. My eyes may turn<br />
No way that is not watched. To lift my lids<br />
May raise a cry of "Treason!"</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">There's no help?</span><br />
In all this land no help?</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Megario,</span><br />
Could he be softened to it, is the man<br />
Who might with safety slip a secret bolt<br />
For Chartrien.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> He!</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> His name is set above<br />
The nick of treason by his stern dispatch<br />
Of poor LeVal,—and, that struck off, he yet<br />
Is chronicled so dark that none would lay<br />
A fair deed at his door.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Megario!</span></p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> I would not name him, but I know he loves you,<br />
And there's no soul that love may not endue<br />
With tinge of Heaven.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Señora</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Señora!</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> [<em>Panting</em>] I have seen him!</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> The prince?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Not Chartrien?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Yes!</span></p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Escaped?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 17em;">The guards</span><br />
Were of our heart—they let him make the wood—<br />
I've hidden him——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Oh, where?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Within the cave</span><br />
Veiled by the waterfall. But safety there<br />
Is minute-frail.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> What way? He'll climb the wall?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> And drop into the river.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Yes. What guard</span><br />
Walks there? I see. 'Tis Miguel. And I know<br />
Somewhat of him,—more than he'd tell the winds.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> Thank Heaven for a sinner! When he's next<br />
Behind the rocks, then to him, Guildamour,<br />
And be his palsying conscience. Peg his feet<br />
To the earth!</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> Trust me, Señora!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'll lead off</span><br />
Those babblers. Princess, you're the watch,—you'll give<br />
The signal.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Ah! What is 't?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Two pebbles dashed</span><br />
Into the water is our sign.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">The guard!</span><br />
He's gone!</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> It is our time. [<em>Exit into wood, rear</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>As the talkative group move up</em>] Take them away,<br />
Señora! It would kill me now to meet<br />
A painted smile.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">I'll go. And you—be swift.</span><br />
Don't stop—don't think. [<em>Joins group</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">I know where lordings three</span><br />
Wait for as many maids.</p>
<p><em>A young lady.</em> You saw them pass?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> Disconsolate.</p>
<p><em>Young Lady.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">O, to the river!</span></p>
<p><em>Another.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Come!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>They go off with Señora, lower left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Now! [<em>Takes up two stones. Ziralay and Megario
come out of the house</em>]<br />
Oh! [<em>She drops the stones. They cross to her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">You wait?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I read the sentence.</span></p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Death.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> And when?</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">To-night. They've given Vardas charge</span><br />
Of 't. He's an eager butcher,—does not know<br />
Delay.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You wished his death.</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I voted no.</span><br />
Megario laid my doubts.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Did he do that?</span></p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> He countered to their teeth.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>To Megario</em>] So merciful<br />
Is hate?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> The prince's death would mean the fall<br />
Of Cordiaz, and our houses rock with his.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Be clearer, pray you.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Vardas wants the throne,<br />
And we've a sour and guilty faction here<br />
Who'd see him on it, but they dare not move<br />
Against a king yet rich in arms and friends.<br />
And Hudibrand is not so absolute<br />
That he may turn the army of Assaria<br />
On the sole pivot of his word. For that,<br />
Even he must knock the sleeping nation up<br />
And ask good leave.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You'd say, sir, Hudibrand</span><br />
Would favor Vardas?</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Short and plain, he does.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> What then?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The Assarians are proud, and where</span><br />
They think their honor's pricked, their pride out-tops<br />
Their judgment. Chartrien's death, whose ugly weight<br />
Must lie with Cordiaz, will inflame their hearts<br />
Till Hudibrand may send an army on us,<br />
His people clapping to 't. In open day<br />
They'll choose the road his cunning cut by night,<br />
And pray him take it.</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Ay, and where are we,</span><br />
With Vardas crowned in Goldusan?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I see.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> He'd like my million acres in Peonia<br />
Sliced for his foreign hounds!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter an officer</em>]</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">What trouble now?</span></p>
<p><em>Off.</em> Prince Chartrien has escaped.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">And you in charge?</span></p>
<p><em>Off.</em> I sent him with good men, or so I thought,<br />
Being pressed to another way——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">His guards,—what name?</span></p>
<p><em>Off.</em> Vinaldo, and a sergeant, who——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Vinaldo!</span><br />
He's on the blue list, turning fast to black.<br />
Did you not know it?</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">I held him, sir, the pick</span><br />
Of loyalty.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Well,—on. What else?</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">They reached</span><br />
The grove, passed in, and after prudent time,<br />
The guards came out, smug as all right, and now<br />
They're gone,—clear foot,—will doff you from the hills.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> A tale for Vardas! You may save your beard,<br />
But not your neck.</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">I'll not shake yet. The prince</span><br />
Is in the grove. We'll soon uncover him.</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> The walls are picketed?</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">A double watch</span><br />
Is on.</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> That's well enough.</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">On chance he makes</span><br />
The wall, I've reinforced the river guard.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Both sides?</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">A close patrol, both east and west.</span><br />
Though he had fishes' gills and dived the stream,<br />
He'd not get by. That way is fast against him<br />
As Belam's iron door.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>To Hernda</em>] You're ill?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">No, no!</span><br />
I'm well—quite well.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The lily in your cheek</span><br />
Lies not so bravely.</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> [<em>To Ziralay</em>] If he gets out of this,<br />
He'll steer around the moon. We'll find him, sir.<br />
But he's most darkly hid. Has made a coat<br />
Of leaves and plays the grouse trick on us.</p>
<p><em>Zir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">Come!</span><br />
His majesty must know. [<em>Ziralay and officer go into house</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> How may I help you? Let the service be<br />
Of such poor nature as your dog might give,<br />
And pride will whistle to it.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">O, my lord,</span><br />
I half believe you. When our angels fall,<br />
Then devils are not black. And I have lost<br />
My father.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Devils! You've a tongue.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Forgive</span><br />
A heart unmantled, and too wild to choose<br />
What word may veil it. I would say, my lord,<br />
In this discolored world I now begin<br />
To find you fair,——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">O, heavenly retraction!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> And if I ask a service it will be<br />
No paltry one, but such as makes the king<br />
Bow to the knight.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I'll prove this grace</span><br />
Is native in me, and not solely lent<br />
Of your new bounty!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Would you save the life</span><br />
Of Chartrien?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I would. Though a treasonous tool<br />
Of rebelry, he should be held by me<br />
A prisoner of knightliest war.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">A prisoner!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> You can not ask his freedom! That would give<br />
My foes clear argument to pluck me bare,<br />
And set me outlawed on the rebel side<br />
Of this deplored division.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Oh, not free!</span><br />
And in your power!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">To hold him prisoner,—that</span><br />
I'd undertake, and make the action good<br />
Even to this bloody council.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">You'd dare that?</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> My policy is open, and I'd dare<br />
To put it into deed that must commend me<br />
To their unwilling justice. To do more<br />
Would disarray all sense,—be fullest like<br />
The idiot's gesture that disrobes the wretch<br />
Of his last sanity.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Megario....</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> What secret is so dear these costly sighs,<br />
Like gentle pickets ever reinforced,<br />
Let it not pass?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">A secret? No!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">But yes.</span><br />
I push me by its fragile guardians,<br />
And hear it beating in its citadel.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> What says it then?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You've seen the prince.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">My lord!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> You know what shadow hides him.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">No, no, no!</span><br />
My oath, sir, I've not seen him!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I would trust</span><br />
One negative, not three. Give him to me,<br />
And you will know he lives. Let him be found<br />
By Vardas' men, and when you wake to-morrow<br />
The earth will be without him.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">No, not you!</span><br />
I'll go to Cordiaz. He'll save the prince<br />
As he would save his throne. You've taught me that.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> He'd lose it so. Should Cordiaz to-night<br />
Set Chartrien free, he'd rise without a lord<br />
To bid him one good-morrow.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Ziralay....</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ask him? An ass whose ears if visible</span><br />
Would signal Mars! Say he had courage for you,<br />
He'd blunder with the prince to Vardas' arms.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Ah, <em>you</em> could do it,—set him free!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Nay—don't—</span><br />
Don't ask it, if you've mercy! Your highness knows<br />
I could not grant so much though lips I love<br />
Above my soul should beg that treason of me.<br />
Though they should take again those dearest words<br />
That knighted me, and now lie in my heart<br />
Like swelling seed of fortune! Let me shield<br />
His life. In saintliest trust—— [<em>She shudders from him</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">You fear me so?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I do! I do! You took away LeVal,<br />
And he no longer lives.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">He does! My oath,</span><br />
He does!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You spared him?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">By my soul, he lives!</span><br />
But let the word sleep in your vestal ear,<br />
Until these smouldering troubles die to dust<br />
And feed the grass above them. For the State<br />
Believes LeVal is dead, nor taints me with<br />
Such treacherous clemency. See how I lay<br />
My safety and my honor in your hands?<br />
I give them, hostages for Chartrien!<br />
Ah, you should know how I will guard your trust,<br />
For when I say to you he does not live,<br />
Your eyes will slay the single, nurturing hope<br />
Of my own life!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Battling</em>] I can not! I'm not Fate<br />
To do her awesome work.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We aid her most</span><br />
With passive hand, as Chartrien's ghost will come<br />
On mourning nights to tell you.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Oh, I'll speak!...</span><br />
No, no! Ah, never, never!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Resolute, giving up his suit</em>] I must join<br />
The hunt. There's but one place—the cave——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">The cave!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Those guards are fools—or shy of water.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">Sir,</span><br />
What cave?</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> He's there. Your cold, uncandid calm<br />
Has babbled it. The frost is crafty that<br />
Puts out such anxious fire.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">My lord, if I</span><br />
Should tell you....</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Quickly then! How canst debate</span><br />
So fatally, knowing delay but robs him<br />
Of venture's favor? Every moment steals<br />
A bud of chance.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">How will you take him out?</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I'll pass the gates unchallenged. Close without,<br />
My car stands by,—a racer never spent,<br />
And begs no pause. Know he is safe, and sleep.<br />
Night will be secret, and we'll greet the sun<br />
In my Peonia——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, Peonia's far!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> And Vardas near.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Take these two stones, my lord.</span><br />
Cast them into the falls——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">So! I was right!</span><br />
But you must summon him.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">So soon a tyrant?</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I'll take him from your hands,—no other way.<br />
Your trust to me! And with my life I'll guard it!<br />
For that you love him is my means to you.<br />
Once in your heart, I'll win the throned place<br />
Though all his saints defend it!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">True, my friend,</span><br />
We shall be nearer, for anxiety<br />
Will draw me to you with a longing like<br />
The aching letch for morning in the eyes<br />
Pain keeps astare. You then will be the goal<br />
Of fondest question,—and from that—who knows?<br />
Out of unbroken faith, and kindly shafts<br />
'Tween hearts disponent, bridges have been built<br />
For love's plenipotence to cross.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">You bid</span><br />
Me hope?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I do not say despair. Sometimes<br />
A presto-worker sits within the soul<br />
Of gratitude, and love that must give thanks<br />
In name of one beloved, has then been known<br />
To pass from the liege object to the heart<br />
Whose compass held them both in selfless bounds<br />
Of chivalry. And yet—I promise nothing!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I ask no promise but the one I find<br />
In words that so deny it. Now the thought<br />
Is born, I'll make the naked infant grow<br />
Heir of my princely opportunity.<br />
Go now. An instant may defeat us. Haste!<br />
My purse must buy a guard.<br />
[<em>Hernda goes off, upper right. Megario walks left and calls</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Benito! Ho!</span><br />
You and your fellow!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">[<em>Enter two guards</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">I have work for you.</span><br />
You've seen my gold before. Here's more of it.<br />
Stand for my word.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Hernda returns with Chartrien</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Gods give me time for one</span><br />
Wild kiss! O, Heaven! To find and lose you in<br />
One whirling breath!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>His pistol at aim</em>] You are my prisoner.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Señora rushes on left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> Oh, princess! Oh!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>To guards</em>] Move on with him.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Wait—wait——</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> No time.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> But I must tell——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Let fiends be dumb.</span><br />
You damned and double traitress, this my hand<br />
Could lay you dead!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>To Hernda, who seems dazed</em>] My goddess, I'll be true!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Kisses her, and goes off, lower right, with Chartrien and guards</em>]</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> You let him kiss you!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Who?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Megario.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I did not know it. I am dead, I think.</p>
<p class="center1"><br />[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT III</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p class="negidt"><em>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.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> [<em>Stepping out</em>] You mend, Famette. But when you came—all thumbs.<br />
A woman grown and couldn't spoon up fish!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> It was the smell. How can they eat it, Lissa?</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> You'll eat it too.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">That? Never!</span></p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Another week</span><br />
Will starve you to it.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Ysobel comes out of kitchen bearing apron full of cups
and spoons which she places on ground</em>]</p>
<p><em>Yso.</em> [<em>Looking left</em>] Here's Masio in. [<em>Enters hut</em>]</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> He's always first.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">[<em>Masio comes up left</em>] How did my boy get on?</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> I wasn't near him in the field.</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">He did</span><br />
His stint?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> I never heard.</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">No eyes, no ears,—</span><br />
All belly, you!</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> [<em>Taking up spoon and cup from the pile</em>]<br />
Fish! fish!</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Beans first. You know</span><br />
The rules.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> I've teeth can break 'em. Fish, Famette!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>Famette puts fish into his cup</em>]</span><br />
There'll be a blessed cleaning-up to-night.</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> More beating? Has the master come?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> [<em>Nods</em>] <span style="margin-left: 11em;">And on</span><br />
The rounds. He'll clear the yards. News from the north<br />
Has turned him red and black.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> A flogging? Oh,<br />
If you were men you'd fight with your bare hands<br />
Till you were free!</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Free as the dead. Our blood</span><br />
Would soak the earth and make more hennequin,—<br />
That's all.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Then run away.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">How far? The swamps?</span><br />
To sleep with snakes—a week or less?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">Across</span><br />
The ridges.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> Where the sun would lap you dry<br />
As crackling cat-guts? Thirst would draw you in<br />
To th' next hacienda well. The masters own<br />
The water, and in this land, that's life.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">No chance?</span><br />
They never get away?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Sometimes a man</span><br />
Makes Quito, but he soon comes back.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Comes back?</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> What else? In Quito there's no work. He starves.<br />
And here—there's beans. So he gives up, and then<br />
They send him back.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> And he is flogged?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Ay, till</span><br />
His bones crack.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Oh! He bears it?</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Like a man,</span><br />
My dear.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> The coward!</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">So—back to the field,</span><br />
Mute as a snail, and poorer too, for then<br />
The dream is gone of any life but this.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> They have no spirit—none!</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Much as you'll have</span><br />
This time next year.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Next year? I shall be gone.</span><br />
My debt was just ten pesos.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> [<em>Incredulous</em>] <span style="margin-left: 2em;">You were sold</span><br />
For that?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> I'll work it out.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Be 't ten or hundreds,</span><br />
Who comes here stays. You'll soon know that, my bird,<br />
And limber your fine neck.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What, Garza, you?</span><br />
Who were so blithe this morning, on your way<br />
To freedom?</p>
<p><em>Garza.</em> [<em>Rocking</em>] Mother of God! Oh, Mother of God!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> What is it, Garza?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">There you have it! You see</span><br />
Who comes here stays.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">But he was free! His friend</span><br />
Brought twenty pesos to pay off his debt.</p>
<p><em>Gonzalo.</em> And when he went to pay it, on the books<br />
There stood two hundred pesos against Garza.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> Two hundred—twenty,—you see, Famette,<br />
How much a little "o" can do.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">They dare</span><br />
Do that? I'll see the magistrate! [<em>The men stare at her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> [<em>Patting her shoulder</em>] Poor girl!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> I will! Why not? What is he for?</p>
<p><em>Gon.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">What for?</span><br />
To see we are well beaten when we ask<br />
For justice. He must serve who pays him,—that's<br />
The master.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Oh, you worse than slaves!</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">No names,</span><br />
My proudling. Wait a year, then what you please.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> [<em>To boy</em>] Not eat? Now you're a man? Twelve years to-day!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> [<em>Bending over Iduso</em>] Is 't fever, Lissa?</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> [<em>With sullen jealousy</em>] Let him be, Famette.<br />
What do you know? You've got no children.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">I've</span><br />
A little brother.</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Brother! Nothing that.</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> He's just Iduso's age.</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> [<em>Softened</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">And has to take</span><br />
A man's work on him?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">N-o——</span></p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I said it now.</span><br />
What do you know? Look at your hands—not stumps<br />
Like mine.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> Who hugs the post to-night?</p>
<p><em>Gon.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I heard</span><br />
Of seven warned.</p>
<p><em>Yso.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My man! He hasn't come!</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> God's mercy, give us peace! It was his turn<br />
To put away the knives.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Ysobel leans against hut. Famette takes bowl from her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">There's seven, you say?</span></p>
<p><em>Ben.</em> None from this yard. Famette, you haven't seen<br />
A flogging yet?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> And never will, you beast!</p>
<p><em>Ben.</em> Your never's short,—less than an hour.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> What do you mean?</p>
<p><em>Ben.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">The whip draws blood to-night,</span><br />
And we must all look on, for our soul's good.<br />
It is the master's order.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">I'll not go!</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> Why, God looks on, Famette, and so may we.<br />
All Heaven sees it, and I'll pledge my—fish—<br />
That not an angel blanches.</p>
<p><em>Gon.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You should see</span><br />
The master!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <em>He</em> is there? Does <em>he</em> look on?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> O, not quite that. To eye the work<br />
Would show too grossly, but you'll see him there,—<br />
Somewhat aside, leaning against a yew,<br />
Most carefully at ease. Then he will light<br />
A delicate cigar that fills the grove<br />
With a fantastic odor, like, we'll say,<br />
Faint musk that creeps on burning pine.<br />
You will approve the quality, Famette.<br />
That is his signal.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Oh!</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Long as he puffs,</span><br />
And soft, white rings twirl upward to the leaves,<br />
The lashes fall. And when, grown gently weary,<br />
As 'twere half accident, from his high thoughts<br />
Remote, he clears the cindered tip—like this—<br />
The whip is still.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Where, where am I?</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">In hell,</span><br />
Sweetheart.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Who are you, Masio? You are not<br />
As these that suffer speechless.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Pinch the difference!</span><br />
A little learning, and a few opinions<br />
That brought me here.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> [<em>Moving aside with him</em>] What did you do?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 17em;">I spoke</span><br />
The truth too near the ear of Cordiaz,<br />
And there's no greater crime.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You are a prisoner?</span><br />
But you're not guarded.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> No, they leave me free,<br />
In hope I'll run. Then they will shoot me down.<br />
And you—what brought you here? Ten pesos<br />
Could never buy you—nor a hundred either.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> I mean to lead these men to join Bolderez:</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> What! Lead them out?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">And you will help me do it.</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> Well, when I want to die. You're mad.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 18em;">We're all</span><br />
Sprats in a net. <em>You'll</em> not get out, once let<br />
The master see you. Better hide those eyes——</p>
<p><em>Yso.</em> [<em>Running and catching Masio by the shoulder</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">You lied to me! You lied! They've got my Grija!</span><br />
Down in the lower yard!</p>
<p><em>Grija.</em> [<em>Entering and making his way to her</em>] No! Here I am.<br />
Safe in, old tear-box.</p>
<p><em>Yso.</em> Holy Mary!
[<em>Tells her beads rapidly as he leads her aside</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> [<em>Aroused</em>] Men!<br />
If Osa looked from yonder mountain scarp,<br />
Would she descend to lead such currish hearts<br />
To liberty?</p>
<p><em>Gon.</em> We are not dogs.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Then shame</span><br />
To bear the life of dogs!</p>
<p><em>Ben.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">What do you know</span><br />
Of Osa?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Know? Does she not guard the shrine<br />
Cherished ten centuries in your secret hills?<br />
Priestess and princess, daughter of your kings,—<br />
The ancient poet kings who ruled and sang<br />
In palaces where now your huddled huts<br />
Give you a slave's foul shelter!</p>
<p><em>A Voice.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Will she come?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> To such as you? With heads hung down, and backs<br />
Bared for the whip? The moment that you hold<br />
Your manhood dearer than your life, she'll stand<br />
Before you. Then you'll see——</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">For God's sake, hush!</span><br />
The master!</p>
<p><em>Ben.</em> [<em>As all look left</em>] No, it's Coquriez.</p>
<p><em>Gon.</em> With his Gringo.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Coquriez enters with Chartrien. They cross right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Leave me alone.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">My soul, am I not sick</span><br />
Of your dumb lordship? Now the master's here,<br />
I hope, by Jesu, that our ways will part.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Coquriez!</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> [<em>Crossing left</em>] Here, sir!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Shoot the Gringo, sir?</span><br />
I thought he was to live.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">It must be done</span><br />
To-morrow.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">I'll do it.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Take him on the road,</span><br />
And don't come back with him.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">To-morrow, sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> At day-break. Drop him cold. I was a fool<br />
To let him live a day!<br />
[<em>Famette has advanced too far and Megario sees her</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Who's that?</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">There? Oh!</span><br />
I bought her in last week.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">The day I left?</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> I think 'twas then.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">An old one,—so you said.</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> About the Gringo, sir,——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">What is her name?</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> Famette.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Famette goes back to the women</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">A figure too.</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">It's not so easy</span><br />
To drop a white-skin——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Come, Famette! Come here.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">[<em>She turns and comes slowly</em>]</span><br />
Old? By the gods! Why did you lie to me?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> My lord ... you like none past fourteen.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">She's that</span><br />
Half over.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Brazen devil! Come, Famette.<br />
I like your name. I like your face too, girl.<br />
Don't be afraid. Show me your eyes. You won't?<br />
Where have I seen you?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'm a stranger, sir.</span><br />
My home was in the north.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">That fester-spot!</span><br />
A stranger? Then we must be good to you.<br />
Where do you sleep?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There, in the hut.</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">You'll have</span><br />
A better soon. Next time I'll see your eyes. [<em>Going</em>]<br />
Mind, Coquriez, to-morrow! Do that well,<br />
I'll pardon this. [<em>Exit</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">What is 't you do to-morrow?</span><br />
And why do you need pardon? You who serve<br />
So well?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> My pretty bird, I've been too slow.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Too slow?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">I've limped, and lost.</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">Ah, Coquriez!</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> You're not afraid of <em>me</em>. You look at me,<br />
And turned from him. That's honey on his curse!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> He curses you? And you do all for him!<br />
All that he asks you,—things he dares not do<br />
With his own hand.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You care for that?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">You risk</span><br />
Your soul, perhaps,——</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">'Tis certain. Pray for me,</span><br />
Chiquita.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> When?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To-morrow I must leave</span><br />
The Gringo in the marshes.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Oh, 'twas that!</span><br />
And paid with curses——</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> [<em>Calls, as a new batch of men come in</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come, Famette! Here's work!</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> We'll talk again. [<em>Hurries to Lissa</em>]</p>
<p><em>A man.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The beans are cold.</span></p>
<p><em>Another.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Soured too!</span><br />
Gray Moses, here's a life!</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Do you complain,</span><br />
O, comrades? Now your hour is come? The pearl<br />
O' the long ungarnished day? The holy hour<br />
Of—beans? Why, think! What do we live for, men?<br />
For sweaty moments battling 'gainst the sun<br />
To strip the thorny hennequin? For nights<br />
Of bitten sleep in unwashed pens? Not so.<br />
Lift up your cups! Here is the crown of toil!<br />
Each day we reach our life's supremest dome,<br />
And know we're there! Can man ask more? Even kings,<br />
Though the gold frontal of munificence<br />
Is bowed before them, yet must fretting guess<br />
The morrow's store. But we, my friends, we know!<br />
Then let each separate and distinct legume,<br />
Dear as the Egyptian treasure lost in wine,<br />
Delay as preciously——</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> [<em>Cutting him across shoulders</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Come down from that!</span><br />
There's more for you, my friend, i' the lower yard.<br />
I'll tie you up.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">O, Coquriez, let him go.</span><br />
<em>You</em> should not care. His tongue was born with him,<br />
And God may mend it. Let the fool alone.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> Hmm, if you ask me——</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Thank you, Coquriez.</span><br />
I'll stand for him he'll not offend again.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> My tongue is glue. 'Twill stick to its place.</p>
<p><em>A man.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Fish! fish!</span></p>
<p><em>Another.</em> He's had his share.</p>
<p><em>The man.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Not half a cup!</span><br />
O, Jesu, I am starved. I did my stint,<br />
And helped the boy, Famette. Can I do that<br />
On half a cup?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">No, Berto, here is more.</span></p>
<p><em>Yso.</em> The Gringo does not eat.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I'll take him this.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Fills cup from bowl of beans and goes to Chartrien, who is
still seated on the step, listless and observing nothing</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Señor?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Who spoke? O, you, Famette? No, thanks.<br />
I can not eat. [<em>Turns from her</em>] That's twice I've heard the voice<br />
Of Hernda. Madness creeps, but surely comes.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> [<em>Over his shoulder</em>] You must escape to-night.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Facing her</em>] Escape? To-night?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Here, hold the cup, and eat. Do, sir! We're watched.<br />
To-morrow Coquriez leads you to the woods,<br />
Comes back alone——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">At last I know my hour.</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> But you shall live. Last night I worked till day<br />
At that locked gate. 'Tis open. None suspects.<br />
Outside there's water in a flask, and bread,—<br />
Beneath the cactus at the left——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">But how</span><br />
Get out? I am locked in at night, and watched<br />
At other hours.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Eat, eat, and listen, Señor!</span><br />
To-night a flogging in the lower yard<br />
Will empty this. You'll go with Coquriez.<br />
Urge him to bring you back. Say you are ill,—<br />
For that you are,—and come. Here I shall hide,<br />
And as you pass, will suddenly step out<br />
And speak to Coquriez. You fall behind,<br />
In shadow of my hut, move round it, wait<br />
This side, then see what's next to do.</p>
<p><em>A man.</em> [<em>Calling</em>] Famette?<br />
Where is Famette? She doesn't count the beans.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Famette goes back to the men</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> It is a lure. If I attempt escape,<br />
Then Coquriez shoots me dead, his soul just clear<br />
Of murder.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> [<em>To Famette</em>] Our Gringo's learned to eat, I see.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Now do they change confederate nods, and gaze<br />
Their mated thoughts. Down, down to dust, my heart!<br />
The struggle's off. I'll fight no more. Yon stars<br />
Have rest for me. Is 't so? Vain footing there.<br />
What rest have they, that share with man the surge<br />
From life to life? There Jupiters unfound<br />
Whirl cooling till their straining sides may bear<br />
Ocean and land and clinging bride of green;<br />
And Saturns, nameless yet, cast travailing<br />
Their ringed refulgence. Not the frozen moons<br />
May fix in stillness, but sweep captive back<br />
To flaming centres when their planets call.<br />
There old, dead suns, that think their work is done,<br />
Meet crashing, ground to cloudy fire whose worlds,<br />
Far driven, traverse time and know men's days.<br />
Ay, one may go beyond the ether's breath,<br />
Farthest of all, to be another First,<br />
Undreaming this our God. And I must shift<br />
Eternal and unresting as those suns.<br />
Then let Death hasten. He shall be as one<br />
Who timely strips a wrestler of his cloak,<br />
And, kindly freed, I shall uncumbered leap<br />
To other battle, finding armor where<br />
I find my cause.</p>
<p><em>A man.</em> [<em>To Famette</em>] My turn. Here, give me that.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> The Gringo's had no fish.</p>
<p><em>The man.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Then give me his.</span><br />
He doesn't care. Has run already from<br />
The smell.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> I'll give you half. The rest<br />
I'll take to him.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He'll come for what he wants.</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> No, he is sick, poor devil! [<em>Goes to Chartrien</em>]</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Humph!</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> [<em>To Chartrien</em>] <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You'll take</span><br />
The chance? There is no other.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">It's a trap.</span><br />
You risk your life for me, a Gringo? No.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> You must believe me! Oh, what can I say!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Say nothing. Go.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">I love you, love you, Señor!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> You would persuade me.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Sir, the wine you found</span><br />
Behind your prison door,—and good, clean bread,—<br />
I put them there!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">'Twas you, Famette? I thought</span><br />
That Coquriez did it,—feared I'd die before<br />
The master came.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Not his brute heart! And then</span><br />
That night, of fever——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Yes! What then?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">I lay</span><br />
Outside your jail, my head against the wall,<br />
That I might hear if once you groaned, or know<br />
If sleep had come.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Can such love be for me?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> You must—you <em>must</em> believe me!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">God, your eyes!</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">[<em>She lowers her head</em>]</span><br />
... 'Tis madness, bred of these sun-poisoned days,<br />
And nights without a hope.... Look up, Famette.<br />
I do believe you.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> [<em>Kissing her rosary</em>] Mother, adored and blessed!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Wilt be a beggar soldier's bride, Famette?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> You do not love me, Señor.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">But I love</span><br />
Your gentle heart that warms mine empty,—love<br />
Your eyes, like memories burning,—and your voice<br />
That's linked to an old wound in me,—but most<br />
I love your soul that is as great as truth<br />
And strong as sacrifice. You'll come to me<br />
In Quito, if I make escape? I'll find<br />
A way to bring you out——</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You're mine?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">Till death.</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> And after that?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'll give you truth for truth.</span><br />
Beyond this world I hope to meet a soul<br />
Who did not walk in this, but ought to have,<br />
For here her body dwelt. This side of death,<br />
My life—a bitter one, that only you<br />
Have sweetened—is your own, if you will have<br />
So mean a gift.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">My boy! My little one!</span><br />
God strike you dead, Ipparro!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You'll not flog</span><br />
The boy?</p>
<p><em>Ipp.</em> He didn't do his stint by half.<br />
You know the master's rules. He's twelve years old.<br />
Must cut three thousand leaves.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">A man's full work.</span><br />
And he's so small.</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">And sick he is. Two days</span><br />
He couldn't eat.</p>
<p><em>Ipp.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">You women!</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Let him go.</span><br />
A little child, Ipparro.</p>
<p><em>Ipp.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Let him go?</span><br />
Am I the master of the hacienda?<br />
He'll tie <em>me</em> up to-morrow!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It will kill</span><br />
Iduso.</p>
<p><em>Lis.</em> Such a little one, he is!<br />
A baby yesterday,—to-day a man,—<br />
How can that be?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>An overseer enters left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Overseer.</em> What's up? Come on with you!<br />
The master waits,—burns like perdition! Come!<br />
Come, all of you! The women too! Clear out!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Drives them out. Famette slips into her hut. Chartrien
joins the men and follows last with Coquriez. They
stop left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> Won't see the show?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I'll not go on.</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">Come then.</span><br />
I'll lock you up. [<em>They turn back</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">We'll have an early march</span><br />
To-morrow, mate. Must hit the brush by dawn.<br />
There's little sleep for me.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Shall I have more</span><br />
In that hot pen?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> [<em>Laughs</em>] You'll make it up, I guess.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> I understand. You'll murder me.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">My soul!</span><br />
Let's keep our manners, though we sit in hell,<br />
My occupation's decent, nothing said.<br />
The silent deed is clean, but mouth it once,<br />
The hands will smell. Pah!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">[<em>Famette steps out of hut</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">Here's my kitten!</span><br />
A kiss, my honey-pot!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I've better for you.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 12em;">[<em>Gives him a bottle of wine</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> My ducky! From the master's cellar!<br />
. . . . . . . . . . How——</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> No matter. It is good.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Thief of my soul,</span><br />
A kiss!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>As he attempts to embrace her she springs back, pointing left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Look, look! He's gone! The Gringo flies!<br />
O, Coquriez, you'll be shot!</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> [<em>Stunned for a moment, springs off shouting</em>]<br />
Help! Stop him! Help! [<em>Exit left, firing his pistol</em>]<br />
The Gringo! Stop him!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Famette runs to gate right, where Chartrien is removing bar</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Come! Fly with me! Now!</span><br />
I can not leave you here!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Go! Do not stop,</span><br />
However weary, till you're safe in Quito.<br />
The wounded hare, remember, takes no nap.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Come, come!</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">No, I am safe. And there's more work</span><br />
For me. They'll come back here to search. Nay, go!<br />
Another moment and we both shall die!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Kissing her</em>] I'll wait in Quito,—then a husband's kiss!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Goes. Famette puts up bar, then returns to her hut and
sinks at door</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> If I could pray! If I could pray! How far<br />
Seems that old God I knew! A playhouse God<br />
Who never saw the world! [<em>Leaps up</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">They're coming back!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Sits again, abjectly, her shawl over her head. Megario,
Coquriez, and peons, enter</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Where is the woman?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">There she sits,—the witch!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Stand up! Take off that shawl!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Famette stands up. A man snatches the shawl from her head</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Famette! Not you?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> [<em>Cowering</em>] I, master.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>To men</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Search the yard. Turn every leaf</span><br />
And stone.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>The men scatter</em>]</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> I'll give that gate a look. [<em>Crosses to gate right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">This was</span><br />
Your drooping modesty! [<em>Turns on Coquriez</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 9em;"> You fool!—to let</span><br />
The man escape! By Heaven, you might have burnt<br />
The hacienda down and not have made<br />
My blood so hot!</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">It was the woman, sir.</span><br />
She jumped before me, smiling like a devil,<br />
And when I tried to pass she caught my knees<br />
And held this thing up, saying 'twas for me.<br />
I kicked her off——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">No doubt!</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">And when I turned</span><br />
The prisoner was gone.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>To Famette</em>] You saw him go?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Yes, master. Through the gate, like wings. And then<br />
I gave the warning. Coquriez knows I did.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> What did she say?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">She cried "The Gringo flies!"</span><br />
And pointed there.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> [<em>Returning</em>] The upper gate is fast.<br />
He went that way. [<em>Nods left</em>] Beneath the cypresses<br />
Into the maguey fields.</p>
<p><em>A man.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">He'll not get far.</span><br />
He has no water.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">He will die in th' brush,</span><br />
And I shall never know it. Alive or dead,<br />
He must be found. I'll flog a man a day,<br />
Until I see his bones.</p>
<p><em>Gon.</em> [<em>Coming up</em>] He is not here.<br />
We've looked in all the huts.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ipparro?</span></p>
<p><em>Ipp.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Sir!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Send men abroad, for fifty miles about,<br />
To put the haciendas on the watch.<br />
He must come in for water. Choose good men,<br />
Who <em>ride</em>, and see no wenches by the way.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> My lord, I've served you long——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Too long, you hound!</span><br />
Where is your lady's token?</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">This, my lord.</span><br />
She thrust it in my hand.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And left it too!</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> I knew 'twas yours.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>To Famette</em>] A thief too, are you?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Famette crouches, drawing shawl over her head</em>]</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">True,</span><br />
Coquriez, you have served me long. I'll add<br />
You've served me well until to-night.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">O, pardon!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I trusted you. And held your hand as mine,<br />
To make my wishes deeds.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;"> 'Tis sworn your own!</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Then prove it. Take this whip. Come, take it, man!<br />
Now flog that witch.</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Famette! A woman, sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> The devil's second name is woman. Do it!</p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> A heavy hand I've laid on men, my lord,<br />
But never yet——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Her smile struck deep to make<br />
Such putty of your heart.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>Coquriez drops whip</em>] Pick up that whip!</span><br />
<em>You</em> want its kisses, do you? Pick it up,<br />
Or you shall feel them to your traitor bones!<br />
I'll have you flogged together!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Coquriez slowly picks up whip. Famette rises, throwing
off her shawl</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Hear me, men!</span><br />
For men you are,—not beasts. Your hands are strong<br />
In ceaseless toil. Day after day you pile<br />
Your master's wealth more high. Day after day<br />
You sweat your way a little nearer death,<br />
That he may kick your bodies from his path<br />
And set your graves in hennequin. But know<br />
Who toils may fight! The hand that lifts a spade<br />
May bear a sword. The strength you give to him,<br />
Use for yourselves. Your master is one man,<br />
You are five hundred——</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Gods! I'll stop your mouth!</span><br />
You men there—go—you dozen at the gate—<br />
Go to the dry-yard—load your backs with fibre—<br />
And bring it here!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Men go out</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">I'll teach you now, you slaves!</span><br />
You are five hundred—yes—and I am one,<br />
But in me is the might of Goldusan!<br />
The power of Cordiaz is in my whip,<br />
And back of that is iron Hudibrand!<br />
Kill me to-night, to-morrow you shall die,<br />
Each dog of you,—you know it!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>Men come in with fibre</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 12em;">Throw the stuff</span><br />
Against the hut. There, pile it up. More, more!<br />
Now, Coquriez, the gentle, you've refused<br />
To ruffle your fond dove,—here's sweeter work,<br />
And for no hand but yours. Put her within,<br />
Then fire the hut. [<em>Utter silence</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;"> What terror's on you, beasts?</span></p>
<p><em>Coq.</em> In God's name, sir, you dare not!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">In the name</span><br />
Of all who know how power is kept, I dare!<br />
Move there, you dog!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>Coquriez stands motionless</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Do you refuse again?</span><br />
Then ... in your heart. [<em>Shoots. Coquriez falls dead</em>]<br />
Who'll be the next to stand on feet of lead<br />
When I say "Do?" Gonzalo! Garza! Out!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">[<em>The men do not move. Megario lifts his pistol</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Spare them, Megario. I'll go in.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 12em;"> [<em>Enters hut, closing door</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Trembling</em>] <span style="margin-left: 7em;">That voice!</span><br />
Who is this woman? Speak! Who knows? I've heard....<br />
Bah! I'm a fool!... Take up that lantern there,<br />
Gonzalo. Break it on the fibre. Move!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Shoot now, Megario! [<em>Silence</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">You dare not do it!</span><br />
Kill me,—kill one of them,—shoot till your weapon<br />
Pants its last murder, and a hundred hands<br />
Will tear you limb from limb and bone from bone,<br />
Till every separate shred of you be cast<br />
To its own devil! Shoot, Megario!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>His hand falls. Famette steps into the yard</em>]</span><br />
Where are the masters who can help you now?<br />
The mighty ones who know how power is kept?<br />
Look on these men. Their blood sings as it sang<br />
Through centuries gone,—with courage that was theirs<br />
Ere ships came up like night on this doomed coast<br />
Unloading hell!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;"> Who are you, woman? Who?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> The spirit of these people, absent long,<br />
But come at last to be their hearts' old fire.<br />
Four hundred years you've trampled on their bodies,<br />
But see—look in their eyes—you have not slain<br />
Their God.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> Your name! Who are you?</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Riven hills</span><br />
May hide the shrine of long unsceptred kings,<br />
And keep their royal secret year by year.</p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> Hail, Osa! Osa, queen!</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">What do you want?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Three things, Megario.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">What are they?</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">First,—</span><br />
That I may pass from here, free as I came,<br />
With every soul that will go out with me.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> The way is open. Go.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">And you with us.</span><br />
Far as the coast, where willing transport waits<br />
To bear us northward. Then you may go free.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">[<em>Turns to the people</em>]</span><br />
There brothers wait you, men,—there freedom's tongue<br />
Is beacon fire. The whole of northland sings,<br />
A canticle of flame. You'll go with me?</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> [<em>Loudly</em>] We'll follow Osa!</p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Osa! Osa! On!</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> Gonzalo, choose you men, a thrifty score,<br />
To fill the water-jars and get us food<br />
From the hacienda stores.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">[<em>Gonzales passes out, men following at his signal</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">The third demand,</span><br />
Megario, is this. That key you belt<br />
So close—<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">[<em>Megario claps hand on key</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">Yes, that,—it must be mine, to unlock</span><br />
A dungeon here and free a prisoner<br />
Whom you for love of torture keep alive.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> No, that's a lie.</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Deny it to the stars</span><br />
That saw you yesternight steal up like crime<br />
To a dark grating, saw you gloat, and fling<br />
The crumbs that will not let your victim die,<br />
Though scarce they give him life.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> [<em>Gasping</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5em;">A lie!</span></p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">The key,</span><br />
Megario.</p>
<p><em>Meg.</em> I will not——</p>
<p><em>Fam.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">In my hand!</span><br />
[<em>Megario takes key from his belt and hands it to her</em>]<br />
I thank thee, God, my hand may turn the key<br />
That frees Rejan LeVal! Now forward, men!<br />
O, glorious to be men! Ipparro, walk<br />
Beside our prisoner. Garza, be his aid.<br />
Two days of marching, then the friendly sea.<br />
And if you toil again amid these fields,<br />
You'll take the fruit. On!</p>
<p><em>Men.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Osa! To the sea!</span></p>
<p class="center1"><br />[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT IV</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>The Grove of Peace, as in second act. Late afternoon. Two
officers meet as curtain rises.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> So Cordiaz is fallen.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Joggled down</span><br />
At last, poor man!</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> When all the ghosts he made<br />
Come back to weep his fall, I'll swell the flood<br />
With half a tear, no more.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Then you're for Vardas?</span></p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> By glory, no! He'll open Goldusan<br />
To every thief that knocks.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Trust Hudibrand</span><br />
To guard the door. Till he has plucked the goose,—<br />
Then they may shave it for their part.</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">So, friend?</span></p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> Phut! Goldusan's his box of snuff—held so—<br />
And as he pleases, tchew!—'tis empty.</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Come,</span><br />
I'll walk your way. [<em>They move, right</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">What of this truce? Goes 't deep?</span></p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> As flattery may plough. It is our croon<br />
Of compliment to our new-seated king.</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> Nay, president. We're a republic now.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> Spell 't king or president, it means the same.</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> But with Bolderez ours, the truce should last.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> Why, 't may, till night. Bolderez, friend,<br />
Is not the revolution.</p>
<p><em>First Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">He's the heft of 't,</span><br />
And's made a full surrender.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Made his terms!</span><br />
His officers are guardians of the State,<br />
And he—he's stallion of the court, submits<br />
To curb and comb that he may prouder prance<br />
And keep the herd at stare. Surrender? Lord!<br />
I think it!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Third Officer, from left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Third Off.</em> What's stirring, friends?</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Sleep-walkers.</span></p>
<p><em>Third Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Ay,</span><br />
This amnesty makes idlers.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">So to-day,</span><br />
But work brews for to-morrow.</p>
<p><em>Third Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You've a secret,</span><br />
And I've a guess that picks the lock to 't.</p>
<p><em>Second Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Come!</span><br />
These leaves are listeners.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They go off, lower right. Enter by path upper right,
Señora Ziralay and Guildamour</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">To find you here</span><br />
Makes my best hope a sluggard, far outgone<br />
By th' dear event.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I came five days ago,</span><br />
The princess with me, here to wait return<br />
Of Hudibrand. That you have come with him,<br />
Makes sober welcome blithe.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">He's slack in health.</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> That's written plain.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">What iron's in the man</span><br />
That he yet lives?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He's been in conclave?</span></p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Yes.</span><br />
Five nights he routed sleep from th' drowsy synod,<br />
And hung upon us turning every flank,<br />
Till Protest paled and Patience bled at heart.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> And at the end?</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">He held our sealèd bonds,</span><br />
And Vardas sat secure.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">The bonds? We own</span><br />
Our railways now?</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">We do. And Hudibrand</span><br />
Owns us,—that is, the bonds. A good, stout noose<br />
For a nation's neck.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">And all these days he's been</span><br />
In th' capital?</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">In closest session, though</span><br />
A stage-fed rumor held that he was gone<br />
From Goldusan. The harried people fear<br />
Assarian power, and on the jealous watch,<br />
Keep Hudibrand in burrow.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">He's gay-blown</span><br />
With confidence. I hear from Ziralay<br />
He made a careless peace with all the friends<br />
Of tottering Cordiaz.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">That carelessness</span><br />
Was sea-deep cunning. Favors will go high,<br />
They'll find. Megario gave full half his lands<br />
For place in th' Cabinet.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Megario moved</span><br />
In blaze of censure, and did well to escape<br />
Singed of but half his goods. Two prisoners lost——</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> Ah, Chartrien and....</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Rejan!</span></p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Be guarded here.</span><br />
Fate rustles at that name.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">O, Guildamour,</span><br />
Fear is the silent warder that divides<br />
Our secret hearts. Give it the tongue of daring,<br />
And like a blest interpreter 'twill bring<br />
Our hopes together.</p>
<p><em>Gui.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">There is stir within.</span><br />
Come from these walls, Señora. And if your hope<br />
Is on the road with mine, I've news will make<br />
The wayside sing. Winds gather here and yon<br />
That may out-swagger even Hudibrand.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They go back along cascade path, as Hudibrand, Diraz,
Mazaran, and Golifet come out of house</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> [<em>Holding up letter</em>] Nay, fearless majesty might take more note<br />
Of this despatch.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">That beggar's mewl?</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">There's power</span><br />
In every word. LeVal must harbor strength<br />
We do not know of.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Tush! That is the vaunt</span><br />
Of weakness, not of power.</p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">What is 't he says?</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> Avers him free of this imposèd truce,<br />
And gives a fair foe's warning he'll attack<br />
Whene'er and how he can.</p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Well bragged.</span></p>
<p><em>Dir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">His guns,</span><br />
No doubt, are cooler than his pen.</p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">What more?</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> Repudiates Bolderez, and declares<br />
Himself the head of the Insurrectionists,<br />
Sole authorized to speak and treat for them.<br />
My lord, what shall I answer?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Answer? Humph!</span><br />
Treat with a rag-pole? We'll not sag to that.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter, right, Señora and Guildamour</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> My dear Señora, is our freakish daughter<br />
In hiding from us? We've not had her greeting.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> She knew you close engaged, my lord, and left<br />
The hour to you. I'll tell her of your pleasure.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> My steps are yours. [<em>To his companions</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">Each where he would, my friends.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">[<em>Goes in with Señora</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Dir.</em> I'm for a swim.</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">And I.</span></p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">The river? With you!</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> [<em>Leading left</em>] Bolderez' men are gathering opposite,<br />
Behind the river woods.</p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">The pick of camps.</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> They know it too. There's water, and the trees<br />
Are cool and friendly.</p>
<p><em>Dir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Was it not resolved</span><br />
Bolderez' men should join the Federal Guards?</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> They do, in th' main. This is a straggling wing<br />
Left in the hills, that we have given leave<br />
To station here.</p>
<p><em>Dir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">That's prudence too.</span></p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Why so?</span></p>
<p><em>Dir.</em> I'm windward of a whisper.</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">About LeVal?</span></p>
<p><em>Dir.</em> He's circling in. Let Hudibrand laugh low<br />
Or the enemy will hear him.</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">This LeVal</span><br />
Was dead and buried,—three months out of life,—<br />
Shook from remembrance as the stalest clutter,—<br />
Now, save our eyes, he's jumped alive and rides<br />
Our foremost thought! Enough to send a man<br />
Back to his marrows. I shall pray to-night.</p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> A plunge for resolution! That will cool it.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exeunt lower left. Señora comes out of house and crosses
to seat, right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> 'Tis five o'clock. No sign! But he will come.<br />
He comes!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter Chartrien, lower right. They meet silently and
clasp hands</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> My friend! I thought you far from here.<br />
Safe in the capital. But nothing's strange<br />
To those who've moved mid miracles. You've seen<br />
LeVal?</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> I have.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> I long to greet him. O,<br />
Such walking of the dead renews the earth<br />
And makes it habitable! I have heard<br />
It was Famette who saved him,—added that<br />
To array of deeds that must unlaurel all<br />
The heroines of time.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There'll be an hour</span><br />
To talk of that. Now you must see the princess.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Hernda is with you? <em>Here!</em></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And Hudibrand.</span><br />
No danger there. He wants you now, and says<br />
You'll find good grass if you will leap the stile.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Answering her smile</em>] So blind as that? Poor mole,
he's been in th' ground<br />
Too long. Will never get his eyes.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Ay, he'll</span><br />
Deny the sun till 't bakes him in his burrow.<br />
But Hernda,—O, what welcome waits you, friend!<br />
The ivory-crusted temple, shut and sealed<br />
To eternal airs, is now a fane of rose,<br />
Whose cloistral stairs, that wound so futilely,<br />
Will now through fragrant twilight lead you up<br />
To windowed Heaven. Come! Come, take your own!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> No! Wait....</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">A lover speaks that word?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Señora,——</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> That wound she gave you here is open yet?<br />
But you were wrong, and with your wretched doubts<br />
Assailed her in the hour she lay on rack<br />
To save you.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> On rack for me? She gave me up.<br />
Gave me to him,—Megario,—knowing that<br />
Meant death.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And yet you live.</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I—?</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Live. Do you not know</span><br />
You were to die that night?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">I've heard.</span></p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Those hours</span><br />
She gained for you meant life.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">She gained for me?</span><br />
I saw his lips on hers.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You did. And I—</span><br />
I saw her face. The dead are warmer. She<br />
Could bear that touch for your sake, and on that<br />
Bore too your curse.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">For me? I'll hear no more,</span><br />
Señora.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> You will see her now?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Not now,</span><br />
Nor ever. I am here by pledge, to meet—<br />
A friend.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Masio enters lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> Is this—the man?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">No, but I know him.</span><br />
He's seeking me, I think.</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">I'll leave you then.</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Seizing her hands</em>] Nothing to Hernda!</p>
<p><em>Señ.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;"> Nothing. You and she</span><br />
For what may come. [<em>Goes in</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You, Masio? From Famette?</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> No, from the camp.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">The camp! But she is there?</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> That's guessing, sir. There's fernseed on her wings.<br />
She flits invisible, then bat your eyes<br />
You see her.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> I've her word she'd meet me here.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> Queer place. You come from Quito?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Yes. 'Twas there</span><br />
I had her letter making this strange tryst.<br />
I've travelled from that hour. Famette has left<br />
Her name upon the air, and all the way<br />
I heard it.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> She's the bird of courage, dares<br />
Go far as our LeVal himself. But here's<br />
What brought me, sir. [<em>Gives Chartrien a letter</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">'Tis from LeVal.</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">His hand!</span><br />
His living hand! [<em>Reads, pales, and stands silent</em>]</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Bad, sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">No, good. 'Tis good.</span></p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> Then I'll be off. My head's no show variety,<br />
But I'd not trust it long in th' grove of Peace.<br />
We'll see you soon in camp?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">To-night, I hope.</span><br />
Famette holds key to that.</p>
<p><em>Mas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">The first star bring you! [<em>Exit</em>]</span></p>
<p class="bblockquot"><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Reads letter</em>] <em>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.</em></p>
<p class="noidt">Hast grown so spent, O Fortune, that one stroke<br />
Must deal both death and life?—with hand that parts<br />
The night, show too my rainbow loss?.... All, all<br />
My future sold to the gray usurer Grief,<br />
Who gathers up as sapped and withered leaves<br />
Time's unimagined buds! No eve, no dawn<br />
With Hernda! No brief night that makes<br />
The sun unwelcome as he golds desire,<br />
The warm mist-flower where we lie its heart!<br />
Unbrace thee here, my courage! Valiancy,<br />
First god and last in man, unbuckle here!<br />
... How meet Famette? Smile on her smiles? Deceive<br />
Her love? She'll lay her head upon my heart<br />
And hear it crying "Hernda!".... Hernda lost!<br />
I must not dream here open to the risk<br />
Of her unanswered eyes. Their lure would make<br />
Dishonor, that on wreck feeds rampant, spring<br />
Unshamed in me. I would forsake Famette.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Goes right, upper path. Hernda comes from house and
crosses rapidly to him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Chartrien! Come! [<em>He turns slowly and meets her</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">You take my hand, here where</span><br />
You wished me dead?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">That you have offered it</span><br />
Proves me forgiven.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;"><em>You</em> forgiven? Ah,</span><br />
Has my atonement swollen above my fault<br />
Till I may nod a pardon where I thought<br />
To kneel for one?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">LeVal has written me. [<em>Kisses her hand</em>]</span><br />
This kiss is his salute, and that 'tis his,<br />
Not mine, makes my lips bold to leave it here.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Forgiven! Dawn is on my sky, that hung<br />
Unutterably black! Yes, it is true<br />
I saved LeVal. From Fate's own arms I snatched<br />
My treachery's sequence, though his meantime pain<br />
Is ever writ against me. Yet I too<br />
Knew misery that might be mate of his.<br />
And for that other wrong—here where we stand——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> My wrong to you! Nay, don't forgive me that.<br />
Leave me a wound to keep me ever paying<br />
The debt of pain that solely eases guilt.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I had to choose,—Oh, agony of choice!—<br />
Between your death as certain as the night<br />
And your surrender to Megario,<br />
That seemed but death postponed, yet held a hope<br />
Worth any hazard. That you live is proof<br />
My choice was God's. My reasonless despair<br />
Held Heaven's sanity. Ah, that you live<br />
Is substance of reward, joy's permanent<br />
Sweet soil, but there's a flower to spring from that,<br />
A nodding ecstasy that I may pluck<br />
For my own bosom,—is there not?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Don't—don't——</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You turn away? You've still a doubt of me?<br />
Then modesty may save her frigid self.<br />
I'll speak for love, the one best thing this side<br />
Of Heaven. You've taken my hand, and now my heart,<br />
And all myself would follow it. My heart,<br />
My body, and my risen soul. Yes, risen!<br />
My past of clay is quickened with a breath<br />
That waits not death to know itself immortal,<br />
And this is all my pride, that by that breath<br />
I'm rich enough to give myself to you.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">[<em>She waits for him to speak. He makes no answer</em>]</span><br />
I am rejected, having but my shame<br />
To cover naked love. Yet vanity<br />
Finds me this scanted shroud. Seeing you here,<br />
My hunger guessed at yours. I felt you came<br />
To seek me, else my heart, timid with fault,<br />
Had kept its silence, though my tongue had given<br />
As now a friend's good welcome.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I have come,</span><br />
But not to you.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">For why then? I've an ear</span><br />
Of caution. Let my veins, at too swift flood,<br />
Grow slow as prudence in what work you will.<br />
Now that our aims are near as once our hearts,<br />
You'll let me help? I swear by both our souls,<br />
And yours the dearer one, that our desires<br />
Are one bent bow, and if our arrows speed<br />
They'll kiss at the same mark.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I'm fathoms deep,</span><br />
But in a sea as sweet as ever closed<br />
O'er drowned felicity!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Why are you here?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> To keep an oath!—that kept is our division,<br />
Yet forfeited would so untreasure me<br />
That being's god would blush dishallowed way<br />
Quite out such husk of man!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">An oath?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">Oh, first</span><br />
In made self-curses I'll unload some part<br />
Of this stuffed loathing for the wretch I am!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Nay, I'll not listen.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Star that was a maiden,</span><br />
Do not believe I loved you when my days<br />
Ran tribute at your feet,——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Say anything</span><br />
But that. Those days were mine, and true.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">False, false!</span><br />
For love is generous as the heart of bounty,<br />
Giving defect perfection. Narrowed hours,<br />
Beseamed and flawed, take from its seer-lit eyes<br />
The unstinted, dear proportion secret yet<br />
In Time's full dream.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">'Twas I who failed——</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Not you!</span><br />
That midnight moment held the dawn of this,<br />
All this that now you are, and love had seen<br />
The folded glory of yourself had love<br />
Been there to see. But I cast dust upon<br />
Your sleeping wings, and did not know your heart<br />
Till wounds had laid it bare.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">How could you know</span><br />
More than its native bosom where it dwelt<br />
Strange and unguessed?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">If I had loved,</span><br />
Such soul of fragrance had not hid from me<br />
This unbound blossoming.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We must forget</span><br />
Love's morning miracles forever missed.<br />
His fair, warm day is left us,—sunset's gold,<br />
And evening with the stars. That is enough<br />
For me and you——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">My pledge! I'm here to meet</span><br />
Famette!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Famette! I know her.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Know her! You?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> And know she loves. Then it is you she waits?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> She saved my life. But that unvalued thing<br />
Is debt's mere rubble. 'Tis her love makes up<br />
The sum unpaid and out of reckoning.<br />
And I—how can I tell you?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">If you loved,</span><br />
Look up. No shame can be where love has been.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> I've no defence,—yet say that you were lost<br />
In midmost desert sands, and suddenly<br />
A flower at your feet breathed of the woods<br />
And darkling velvet shade where rest might be....</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> But that's a miracle.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">So was her love</span><br />
To me. Or say that flam and falsity<br />
Ensnarled your every way till no true thing<br />
Seemed left on earth, and then in lifted flash<br />
Truth's priestess eyes looked from a human face<br />
And you were loved,—what startled warmth would say<br />
Your heart yet lived? Would you keep back your life<br />
In barren hug? Deny its sunless gray<br />
To gentle eyes that asked but leave to lay<br />
Their radiance there?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I understand. She gave,<br />
And I demanded. So the gods decree<br />
Her boughs shall bloom and mine go bare.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Oh, Heaven!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You love her, Chartrien?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Silence be on that.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I'll know it,—hear you say it. Is your heart<br />
Mine, or Famette's?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> My life is hers.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Your heart!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Is yours.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah! Then—I give you to Famette.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>He kneels to kiss her hand. Hudibrand appears in door
of house, left. Smiles, and crosses to them</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Up to her lip, you rogue! A humble suitor<br />
Gets humble favors.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] You, my lord?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Your hand,</span><br />
My boy.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> It was my head you wanted, sir,<br />
When last we met.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Not so. I meant to save you,</span><br />
But Hernda spiked my train. To have you die<br />
Quite safely in a rumor was the sum<br />
Of my intent against you.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You're not well,</span><br />
My lord?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Most well!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He's lost some sleep.</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Tut, tut!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> You stay full long in Goldusan. I thought<br />
You nearer home.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I'm cruising in the gulf,</span><br />
By th' morning papers,—the <em>reliable</em> ones.<br />
The gutter rags have guessed me,—but no matter.<br />
I've seen the play through, and I go to-morrow.<br />
Pouf! It has been a game!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You speak as 'twere</span><br />
At end.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> It ends to-day. [<em>Looks at watch</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">'Tis just the hour.</span><br />
Now Vardas is proclaimed the president<br />
Of a liberated people.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">What of that?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> He's bowing now. "I thank you, gracious friends,<br />
Most loyal citizens——"</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">What's that to do</span><br />
With freedom's war?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">It merely ends it.</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">What?</span><br />
You think we fought for that? A change of caps<br />
Upon two brigands' heads?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Tut, you've won more.</span><br />
You with some justice warred on Cordiaz,<br />
But Vardas is of heart so liberal<br />
His people shall be rich in privileges<br />
As many and as fair as in Assaria.<br />
Myself will vouch it.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">I will vouch it too.</span><br />
As many pits fed with the souls of men,<br />
As many images of God deformed<br />
In lawless fray to hold the peaks of greed<br />
And at the top sit on their goblin gold<br />
Content with bestial purr, who might have touched<br />
The heavens with song.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Is that for me, my boy?</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> As many lives tramped out in hunger's scramble,<br />
As many factories where driven wives<br />
Forget the altar dream of babes and home.<br />
As many sweating traps where flames may feed<br />
On flesh of maidens, leaving still, charred bones<br />
Whose only fortune is to ache no more.<br />
As many brazen mills that noise their thrift<br />
Above the ceaseless shuttle of small feet,<br />
While you, the great arch-master, think none hears<br />
That drownèd pattering. As many marts<br />
Where, in law's shadow, girl-eyed slaves are sold<br />
To blows and lust. As many cripples thrown<br />
Upon the dump-heap of a soulless Peace,<br />
Each season piled to moaning wreck more high<br />
Than ever War made in its darkest year.<br />
As many holes where life must lie with death<br />
For privilege of sleep. Oh, I could give<br />
Black instances till yonder sun be set<br />
Nor end your loathsome list!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">A rare, hot sermon,</span><br />
But I'm not Providence, that from my hand<br />
Must pour unfailing bounty.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Humble, sir?</span><br />
I thought you claimed a power that gave the world<br />
The shape you chose.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">But I must use the stuff</span><br />
I find here. That I can't remake or change.<br />
So must my world show flaws and ugly spots<br />
Due to its substance, not to my good pattern.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> That stuff, sir, is the same that lifted us<br />
From four feet up to two! The elements<br />
That played like death upon it but aroused<br />
Their conqueror. In the embrace of winds<br />
It made us ships and gave us wings. From dust,<br />
The very dust that choked it, grew the dream<br />
That lifts it deathless, an eternized God.<br />
And surely as your grip makes it a slave,<br />
You teach it freedom. In your clutch 'twill find<br />
Once more the need creative, and upswell<br />
With power that shall leave you by the way<br />
As heaving seas leave straws upon the sand.<br />
You shall be <em>nothing</em>. As a dream that dies<br />
With waking—lost so utterly<br />
The sleeper knows not that it was—so you<br />
Shall be a vanished thing that man born free<br />
Can not reclothe in guess!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Peonia's sun</span><br />
Has touched your wits. You still think of revolt?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> I think of victory.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Your comedy</span><br />
Is past its hour. Come, Chartrien, give it up.<br />
Confess the war is done.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Bolderez' guns</span><br />
Will make confession of another sort.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> O, ho! I see a light. You have not heard<br />
The morning news. Bolderez has come in.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Come in? Your couriers flatter you. He holds<br />
The heights of Gila with five thousand men.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> That's yesterday. To-day those brave five thousand<br />
Are soldiers of united Goldusan.<br />
Bolderez is adviser to the State,<br />
A tinker in high place, who solders fast<br />
The civic split——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> You dream! This is not true!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Yes, Chartrien, it is true. We've lost Bolderez.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> He—has—deserted?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">No, he proves him loyal</span><br />
To me, his master.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">He served me always.</span><br />
You fool, this was <em>my</em> revolution.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Yours?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Bolderez led my troops. It was for me<br />
You fed his bony beggars. Ha! For me<br />
You stuffed their hungry pockets with your gold!<br />
I loosed your fortune when I know 'twould save<br />
My own a gouge. But I've not dodged the score.<br />
Those guns and horses for the Gazza scare<br />
Cost me some paper——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You? My God! <em>Your</em> war?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> I knew the storm would sweep out Cordiaz,<br />
So strode its back that I might hold the bit<br />
When came my hour. My boy, you fought for <em>me</em>.<br />
I made you do it—I, whom you have said<br />
Shall be as nothing. Where's the mighty sea<br />
Shall toss me as a straw——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">O, father, peace!</span><br />
You see he dies!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Don't waste your tears. He'll live.</span><br />
I've made good oxen out of wilder bulls.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> He cannot live! The pain of it, the pain!<br />
When aspirations have returned as wounds,<br />
Then even the soul must die!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">They all get up.</span><br />
Stout workers too,—quiet, serviceable,<br />
Pestered no more with dreams. Here, give him this.
[<em>Offers a flask</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Rousing, pushing flask aside</em>] Ay, no more dreams.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">[<em>Springs up</em>] But action! Keep Bolderez.</span><br />
We have LeVal, whose undiscouraged heart<br />
Bears on its tide the conquering desire<br />
Of twenty thousand men!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Humph! Where are these</span><br />
Invisible veterans?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Some gather now</span><br />
About his banner,—some wait in the hills<br />
Till they are sure it is his voice that calls,—<br />
Some in your favor wrapped go to and fro<br />
In your own camp, feeding a fire your gold<br />
Can never light,—some dream till we have oped<br />
Their prison doors,—in every part and corner<br />
Of Goldusan, there's courage on the leap<br />
To reach his side.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">What dribble!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Rein this storm?</span><br />
No human hand, nor Heaven's now, may leash it.<br />
It is the throe when travailing Life is shaken<br />
In absolute birth that makes undreamèd news<br />
Even in the ear of God.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Fanatic! Fool!</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Have I not tried to teach you——</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Teach yourself!</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Come, come!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">I mean the words. The race has learned</span><br />
Its lesson while you've played with sand. At last<br />
The dumb, trod way has spoken 'neath man's feet,<br />
And by that word uncovered he has learned<br />
What he shall <em>not</em> be,—knows what heights of sun<br />
Are his, and seeing takes his road,—no more<br />
Battering in wild and bruisèd ignorance<br />
A destiny of stone. Ay, consciousness<br />
Has wakened in itself the unknown god<br />
That gives the race its eyes. You, you a king?<br />
Who do not know that every man is heir<br />
To kingship that must leave such thrones as yours<br />
Outcoursed and little recked as the strewn toys<br />
Of childhood!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Mud-sill dynasties. You know<br />
That I am master.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Master? You believe</span><br />
That man, at top of conquest, who has made<br />
Nature his weariless serf, and set the yoke<br />
From his own neck on her divinities,<br />
Will seal to you—weak, myriadth part of him—<br />
Those wizard captives bending to the dream<br />
Of his new world? Gird you with fortune that<br />
He wrenched from stony ages?—let you gorge<br />
The magic fruit snatched by his perilled being<br />
In starward battle up the abysmal steep?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> I am a fact,—not words.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">You can believe it?</span><br />
At last on dawn-browed heights, with victor foot<br />
On mysteries bound the genii of his wish,<br />
He'll trail his hopes to kennel? Let you pluck<br />
His universe unflowered, and shrink life<br />
To growling brevity 'tween lash and bone?<br />
A slave to <em>you</em>? Obstructive clod,<br />
Who could not stir with one life-budding dream<br />
Though holy imagination tipped with fire<br />
Should score her script upon you!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>A physical pain overcomes Hudibrand. Hernda runs to
his side. He regains composure, his manner forbidding
solicitude</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I am patient.</span><br />
One word of mine would send you manacled<br />
To prison. If you are here to lay down arms——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> I'm not.</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">O, father! The amnesty!</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">That shelter</span><br />
Is not for him!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> Then speak your word, and learn<br />
You fight not men but man. Wide as the world<br />
His spirit blows against you, and little part<br />
You'll cage in this one shackled body.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">One?</span><br />
We'll drag the earth, or net the pack of you!<br />
LeVal, marauding ghost, we'll prick his blood<br />
Beneath his spectral mask. And that mad trull,<br />
Famette, your holy maid——</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">She's safe from you!</span><br />
God is about her as she walks among<br />
Your hope-lorn slaves and touches their dead hearts<br />
To life.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> To folly they are sick of! Ah,<br />
Once more I've news. Your swarthy Joan has fled,<br />
And all her magic warriors of a day<br />
Again are beggars.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Fled?</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">To her cactus lair.</span><br />
But she'll trapse back between two bayonets,<br />
Stripped of her phantom wings.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">She is not gone.</span><br />
That heart of truth! When she deserts LeVal<br />
There'll be a breach in Heaven, and fiends may claim<br />
The day for hell and you.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">'Tis mine without</span><br />
Such warm avouch. Your chaparral cock and hen<br />
Have parted company. Her followers now,<br />
Cursing and naked, straggle to our camps——</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Your pardon, sir! You are deceived.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Ho, ho!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> They're with LeVal. Not one stout heart is lost.<br />
Famette but lends her captaincy to his<br />
In needful absence——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You are much too wise.</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I know Famette.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You—what? Know <em>her</em>?</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">I do.</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> This is the fruit of that mad jaunt,<br />
Through Goldusan! Where have you seen her?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Here.</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Not here? That woman? Are you mad, my girl?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> I love Famette. If we were one, I'd be<br />
But cinders in her saintly fire.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Here, miss?</span><br />
You've had her with you? Sniffed and cheeped together,<br />
And drowned my kingdom in a gossip cup?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> If men, the bravest, are but flies upon<br />
Your monarch ermine, that with careless shake<br />
You scatter, can you fear a woman?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">What?</span><br />
Mocked by a chit? I fear? You mannerless filly,<br />
I've let you plunge and ramp o'er all my fields,<br />
But I'll not have you whinnying at the fence<br />
Till roadside jades break through! She has been <em>here</em>?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> She has. Dined at my board, slept in my bed,<br />
And so shall do again.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I'll welcome her!</span><br />
And send you trucking home! You shall not wait<br />
For any whimsy this or that!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">But, sir,——</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> No trumpery packing,—no unready whine!<br />
This hour! That you should moil your royalty<br />
Touching such scum!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Nay, I was scum until she gave me substance.<br />
I had no soul until she made hers mine,<br />
No cleanliness of heart till I knew hers,<br />
No knowledge till I looked through her clear eyes,<br />
No riches till I wrapped me in her rags——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> You're raving!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">No. Ah, father, father, I'm</span><br />
Famette,—your daughter! I've not been in Cana,<br />
But in the pits your greed has dug,—down, down<br />
Where misery is so vile its own abyss<br />
Shudders to hold it. Chartrien, now you know<br />
My tale untold. I see your mind runs back<br />
To light a way it travelled in the dark.<br />
O, you were blind! I'd know you near though masked<br />
In utter change.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> I'm folded now in sun<br />
That makes me blind again. Are you Famette?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Showing her bared arm</em>] See this brown circlet
left that you might find<br />
A trace of her? I've crossed the universe——<br />
Through hell—and reached you, have I not?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> [<em>Embracing her</em>] <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">All sweet</span><br />
Forfending stars now heap their fortunes one<br />
And drop it on my heart that borrows heaven<br />
To hold the imponderable gift!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Ah, poor Famette!</span></p>
<p><em>Cha.</em>'Twas you—in that foul hacienda pen?<br />
And would not speak?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I meant to save you, sir.</span><br />
And had I told you then, would you have set<br />
So blithely off to Quito?</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And left you there!</span><br />
How can you think it?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Do I, sir? Nay, love,</span><br />
Nor ever did. I knew you'd ruin all<br />
With your big "won'ts" and "don'ts."</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">O, sagest heart!</span><br />
But here you kept my joy-gates shut so long.<br />
Why such slow mercy, golden one?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">You'll hear it?</span><br />
There is a teasing devil in me, Chartrien,<br />
That must have play.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah, no!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ay, and an ounce</span><br />
Or so of cruelty, that would not let<br />
Your frailty go unpinched.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nay, 'tis not so!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> You'd rather think I put to royal test<br />
Your godship? Wooed with lips so near your own,<br />
And found you stanch to honor? That may be,<br />
But I've a shameless reason dearer still.<br />
I wanted all your love for Hernda,—all.<br />
And had I said too soon that we were one,<br />
Then on your breast my heart had never known<br />
Which maid you clasped.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">You ever, sweet!</span></p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">Yet she</span><br />
Is dear. My joy could never be content<br />
Within your heart beside unfaith to her.<br />
She must have room there, not in name of love,<br />
But truth. So you shall hold us both.</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">Like this?</span><br />
Grow to my heart, O garland of myself!<br />
Be breath of me, till, like a double tree,<br />
Root, sap, and bloom are one,<br />
And in our noble fruiting Time forgets<br />
To mourn Hesperides!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Heaven hold thy wish</span><br />
The prayer thou meanest it!</p>
<p><em>Cha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">One bliss is man's</span><br />
The perfect angels know not. In the arms,<br />
Warm, rhythmic, round his battling soul, to feel<br />
Spur of his noblest blood, and know his dreams<br />
Are mated,—find in lightest winds that stir<br />
Love's tremulous hair, the brave wing of his hope<br />
That needs go farthest,—and when seasons fail,<br />
And weary spirit turns from waste to waste,<br />
Know lips that he may touch and touching kiss<br />
The fallow world to harvest. Thus, and thus!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Hudibrand, forgotten by the lovers, has fought through
another moment of agony, and advances, taking hold
of Hernda</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Are you my daughter?</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I am, but I've known hours</span><br />
When shame, a cleansing fire, searched through my blood<br />
For any drop that owned you father.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">In!</span><br />
Go in! [<em>To Chartrien</em>] And you—I'll rid the earth of you,<br />
And take its thanks! [<em>Staggers with a return of pain</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> [<em>Her arms about him</em>] O, father, let us help!<br />
What is it, father?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Nothing. Keep away!<br />
Away!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Throws her off. Enter, lower right, an officer attended</em>]</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> Your majesty, there's sure report<br />
LeVal makes ready to oppose his guns<br />
To our weak garrison.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> [<em>Ironic</em>] <span style="margin-left: 2em;">The spectre's near?</span></p>
<p><em>Off.</em> Across the stream,—the east and wooded bank.<br />
A hundred times our force could not dislodge<br />
His guns from such a vantage.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Guns? LeVal?</span><br />
He has no guns!</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">You'll hear them soon. I beg</span><br />
Your highness' pardon, but your dignity<br />
Would not be touched if you should hasten out.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter, lower left, Golifet, Diraz, Mazaran</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> My lord!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> What is this tale? You, Golifet?<br />
You are in charge!</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">'Tis treachery, sir! I warned</span><br />
Your majesty——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Come, what's the story?</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">This.</span><br />
Bolderez' officers whom we gave leave<br />
To station near us, thus to put more guard<br />
Between the town and rebels that might creep<br />
Down from the hostile hills——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">This egg's all shell.</span><br />
Come, sir, the meat!</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They were in secret yoked</span><br />
Most traitorously with LeVal, and all their men<br />
Were coupled to his cause. They gave him cover<br />
To lead his army up——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">His army, sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> His followers——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">There may be treachery</span><br />
Uncapped among us.</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">'Twas by your advice</span><br />
We gave them leave to camp——</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">I trusted fools!</span><br />
Or traitors! You've a choice of names.</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I beg</span><br />
Your majesty to come with us. They'll fire<br />
At any moment.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Fire? Then we shall know</span><br />
At last where we may find LeVal. You've wired<br />
To Vardas, Golifet? He must despatch<br />
The Federal Guards——</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is too late.</span></p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Too late?</span></p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> We can not save the town.</p>
<p><em>Off.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">The citizens</span><br />
Are fleeing. Do not delay, your majesty!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Fire of guns is heard</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Cowards! Before you fly, arrest that man.<br />
Look to it, Golifet. You'll answer for him.<br />
Let him be trebly guarded.</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Is not this</span><br />
The missing lord, Prince Chartrien?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Ay, that traitor!</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> At this hot juncture, prudence must forbid<br />
A needless insult to the enemy<br />
That may too soon be master.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Insult!</span></p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Come,</span><br />
My lord.</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> By every god that was or is——</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Guns again heard</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gol.</em> Please you, retire, your majesty!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Men gather excitedly from different parts of the grove.
Guests and servants desert the house</em>]</p>
<p><em>Maz.</em> Come, come!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>A shell breaches the wall, rear. Stones fly among the
trees. The house is battered and portico torn away</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> Grant me this favor. Let me be the last<br />
To leave the Grove of Peace. Ha, ha! The last!</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Come, father!</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Go! I've asked a favor, friends.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They turn from him and pass slowly out. Hernda and
Chartrien remain</em>]</p>
<p><em>Her.</em> Now you will come?</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">When <em>you</em> have gone! Go, go!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>More shells. Chartrien carries Hernda away, lower left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hud.</em> [<em>Alone, racked with pain</em>] My foe is nearer than those feeble guns.<br />
Bah! I could crush them! Here I am fordone.<br />
No, no! I'll not surrender. I will live!<br />
I'll keep my world. I fought for it, and won.<br />
'Tis mine! I will not leave it to these mice<br />
To scramble over. [<em>The agony seizes him</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A coward foe, that gives</span><br />
No even chance. Strikes from the dark, with blade<br />
Tempered secure in undiscovered fire.<br />
... Shall then the world go on and I not here?<br />
I shall be here,—a pile of dust, no more,——<br />
That is the hell of hells,—while other dead,<br />
Who made them souls here out of faith and clay,<br />
Race on unflagging,—on and leave me still,—<br />
The everlasting mute!... Souls? That's a lie.<br />
A ranting, tom-tom lie, to ease us on<br />
The wheel. I'll none of that. The sick mind's pap!<br />
Imagination's vent, lest misery<br />
O'er-rack the world! Protective fume<br />
Enclouding man's last grapple till none see<br />
If he or Death be victor, and on the doubt<br />
He rides to Heaven!...<br />
... Was 't truth that Chartrien spoke?<br />
The race has found its eyes? Man is no more<br />
A blind and hopeless struggler cornered fast<br />
By ills unconquerable?—his lusting wars,<br />
Diseases, hungers, Hudibrands? Then what<br />
A chance was there, my heart? If I had fought<br />
Upon his side!... <em>That</em> battle would have made<br />
Red Fate throw down her bludgeon,—won us place<br />
To vanward of the gods!... If I had fought<br />
With him.... Obstructive<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">clod!... My God! <em>My</em> God?</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>He dies. Sunset has passed, and the darkness grows rapidly
until nothing is seen but the gleam of a fallen crown.
Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 100%;" />
<h2><a name="A_SON_OF_HERMES" id="A_SON_OF_HERMES"></a>A SON OF HERMES
<br /><br />
<small>A COMEDY IN FIVE ACTS</small></h2>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3><em>CHARACTERS</em></h3>
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td align='left'>BIADES, <em>a young Athenian</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>PELAGON, <em>his uncle</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>SACHINESSA, <em>wife of Pelagon</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>PHANIA, <em>their daughter</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>SYBARIS, <em>a neighbor's daughter</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>CREON, <em>friend of Biades</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>AMENTOR, <em>a senator</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>MENAS, <em>friend of Pelagon</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>CLEARCHUS, <em>an Athenian youth disguised as a dancer</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>PHILON, <em>a priest</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>STESILAUS, <em>a lord of Sparta</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>PYRRHA, <em>his daughter</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>ARCHIPPE, <em>his wife</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>ALCANOR, <em>his son</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>LYSANDER, <em>friend of Stesilaus</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>HIERON, <em>a young Spartan</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>AGIS, LENON, GIRARDAS, <em>his friends</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>DIANESSA, MYRTA, THEONIS, NACIA, ARTANTE, <em>Spartan maidens</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>THE EPHORS</td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td align='center'><em>Senators, citizens, soldiers, dancers, etc.</em></td></tr>
</table>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT I</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter, upper left, Pelagon, Stesilaus and Lysander</em>]</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> A gracious senate! If such welcome keys<br />
The tune to come, then our ambassadry<br />
Is concord's instrument, and we may bear<br />
Fair music back to Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Tut, the smiles</span><br />
Of Athens are as flying leaves, divorced<br />
From the tree's heart, as apt to light<br />
On vagrancy as merit.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Stesilaus</span><br />
Bears hard as truth. Yet I was warmed to note<br />
The council's greeting.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ever Sparta's friend!</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> And friend of peace. The age no more can bear<br />
The locked alarum of our rivalling States.<br />
We must the groaning tussle bring to end,<br />
Or ends the world.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">'Twas wisdom's cue you gave us,—</span><br />
To say we had our Sparta's sovereign word<br />
For Athens' terms.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ay, hold your embassage</span><br />
Unstrictured, friends. In that lies flattery<br />
Each lord will take to himself and thereon feed<br />
A grace which will, in sort, come back to you.<br />
What hour was fixed for answer? I lost that.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> The last hour of the sun.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">The crier stood</span><br />
Wrong side of my good ear, and I'll not twist<br />
To set the gossips nudging me to th' grave,<br />
Robbed in a shrug of twenty grizzled years. [<em>Looks about the garden</em>]<br />
Where's Biades? He's always trailing here,<br />
Save in the tick of need. I'd have him bid<br />
The ambassadors lie at my house. Lysander,<br />
You'll be my suitor to your comrades? Say<br />
We've heart and room for all.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">For all, my lord?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> And more!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit Lysander</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">My Sparta thanks you, Pelagon.</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Nay, such an honor shall not pass me, sir.<br />
Now where is Biades?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Your nephew, friend?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Ay, Stesilaus. Bar my blood in him,<br />
He'll fasten on your heart.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Report has been</span><br />
Too dear his friend. What buzz about a youth<br />
Of twenty-five! Sir, Attica is mad<br />
To give him captainship. In Sparta now,<br />
The spurring callant would be kept in ranks,<br />
And yoked with Prudence till he learned her jog.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> In ranks! I see him! Well, just in your ear,<br />
He sweeps a pretty curvet. With my wife<br />
His slave, and Phania neck-deep in love,<br />
He rides the very comb of my poor house.<br />
If you would say to him, hold here or there,<br />
I'd take it not amiss. But I do love him.<br />
And now a bout with th' cook. The pest sends word<br />
A double score of sudden guests are all<br />
He'll have at table. Mine own table, sir!<br />
Ha, there is Biades! He'll wait upon you.<br />
Pray touch him as I've hinted. But no word<br />
About our daughters, friend. We'll let that lie.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit upper left. Enter Biades upper right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Most noble Stesilaus, my heart greets you!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Greeting to Biades, whom Athens makes<br />
Her general!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Would, my lord, this dignity<br />
Were laid on senior years. Your Sparta's way<br />
Is best,—to keep the cool, meridian bays<br />
From youth-flushed brows. My moist and charmèd eyes<br />
Spoke inward to my soul when they beheld<br />
The ambassadors before the council, each<br />
With staff unneeded, and gray locks that seemed<br />
As wisdom's holy place.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You sat with us?</span><br />
I did not mark you there.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I kept in modest shadow,</span><br />
Which is youth's fairest mantle,—though my rank<br />
Moves back for none. But, sir, the Spartan elders!<br />
Ah, might I see more men in Athens who<br />
Thus honor age, and age that honors men!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Breathe that into your shrines.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">The gods who smile</span><br />
On folly young, must weep when reverend years<br />
And wisdom part. Mayhap you've noticed, sir,<br />
In my good uncle here ... a falling off.<br />
I would not speak but that I know your eyes<br />
Can not keep curtain when the blabbing sun<br />
Makes it no secret.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Somewhat I have seen.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Somewhat will grow to much ere you take leave.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> I fear it, Biades.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And yet, my lord,</span><br />
Time has not carried him ahead of you<br />
More years than half a score.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Tis t'other way.</span><br />
I'm elder by that much.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Not you, my lord?</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 12em;">[<em>Muses flatteringly</em>]</span><br />
The Spartan way is best. Was 't Pelagon<br />
Led you to say you had full power to treat<br />
With Athens?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> It was he.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I thought it. [<em>Sighs</em>] Sir,</span><br />
In the Athenian mind there dwells a child<br />
No length of days can age. We do not grow<br />
As Spartans. But our vanity's no dwarf.<br />
Tops with the highest, you've some cause to know.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> What of 't? Unlatch! unlatch!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">The people, sir,</span><br />
Always our rearward urge, knowing you've power<br />
To assent to all they ask, will ask for more<br />
Than all.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Think'st that?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">In your brave time you've met</span><br />
Athenians of the best. Didst ever know<br />
One modest?—slow to ask for what he thought<br />
His own?—or what he might by mere demand<br />
Make his?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> They are well stomached,—true. No doubt<br />
They'll press us far.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They will. And if refused,—</span><br />
Well, they are children,—and must bite and scratch.<br />
With strutting rage, may pelt you out of Athens.<br />
But why not say you are in part empowered.<br />
And must return to Sparta with the terms<br />
Before a vowed conclusion?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Late for that,</span><br />
Young sir. The tongue we used to the Council<br />
Must serve in the Assembly. We have said<br />
We have full power.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">To treat, not to assent.</span><br />
That was your word.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Hmm! Now the cloud is off</span><br />
The dunce's script, and I read clear why you<br />
At twenty-five have Athens' voice to sail<br />
'Gainst Syracuse.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Pelagon</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> No word unto my uncle!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> My brain will serve.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">They've come,—your comrades,—all!</span><br />
If honor now were substance, my poor walls<br />
Would groaningly unroof and beg the sky<br />
For room to embrace it! Go you, Biades.<br />
Repeat my welcome, with increase of grace<br />
Your tongue is rich in.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">[<em>Exit Biades, upper left</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Now the full time comes.</span><br />
We'll speak of that that's centre of our hearts,—<br />
Our daughters, friend. This is the hour that ends<br />
A watch of twenty years.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">A patient score.</span><br />
So long your daughter has been mine, so long<br />
Has mine been yours.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Like flower upon a stalk</span><br />
Long nursed and tended, comes the end upon<br />
This day of budding peace. You've had no whiff,<br />
No hint untoward, that what we did had best<br />
Been left undone?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sir, what I do, I do!</span><br />
When we changed babes not past their cradle sleep,<br />
My mind then glossed the act with comment fair<br />
As our unfructured hope. So does it still.<br />
By Nestor, though I'm thitherward of prime,<br />
There's none will say that with accreted years<br />
I moult sagacity!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Eh, so! 'Twas well.</span><br />
I've never doubted it. Here have I reared<br />
Your Phania, Spartan-thewed, who now shall home<br />
With Athens' gentle nurture in her veins<br />
To hither yearn in blood of every son<br />
She bears to Sparta. And you my Pyrrha bring<br />
Back to her land to live a Spartan dame<br />
Among Athenian mothers. So we feed<br />
The unity we dream on,—quicken time,<br />
Foresued, to give our tousing, touchy States<br />
One civic heart.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Has Sachinessa kept</span><br />
A secret tongue?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">A nut not closer sits</span><br />
About its kernel. And your wife, my friend?<br />
What of Archippe? Did she hold for long<br />
Against the exchange?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">She did. Nor ever learned</span><br />
To love your Pyrrha. For that cause,—and that<br />
Our even trust might move with even faith,<br />
Nor odds of grace to you,—I've stood her guard,<br />
And made her comrade where a son might claim<br />
The dearest post.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Good thanks, my Stesilaus.</span><br />
From your wife's audit I'd not brush a doit,<br />
But to the credit of my dame can set<br />
A fairer sum. Æneas' curlèd lad<br />
Lay not more dearly in his Dido's lap<br />
Than your sweet Phania in the swaddling love<br />
Of Sachinessa. Ay, she'll swear me now<br />
That not to gain her own will she give up<br />
Her foster darling.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Humph!</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">The little duck!</span><br />
She has so chucked herself into my heart<br />
'Twill put me sad about to oust her.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">Duck!</span><br />
When I lose Pyrrha, sir, that hour I lose<br />
This good right arm!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Meditative</em>] Hmm! So!... Come, my friend.<br />
The dinner's toward, and the host astray.<br />
The love's deep-vouched that puts such duty off<br />
For one more word. [<em>Pauses as they move left</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">We'll give no open voice</span><br />
To our most dear concern till we have met<br />
Our daughters.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> [<em>Gloomy</em>] Met our daughters! Have it so.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exeunt upper left. Enter, middle left, Phania and Biades</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Come, Phania! The old cocks are off.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">They're gone?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Good flitting too! I feared they'd perch till night,<br />
Crowing the deeds of Stesilaus the Great<br />
And Pelagon the Wise.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">These Spartans! If</span><br />
They'd rest their clubs without the door, our shins<br />
Would give them thanks. Why are we so besieged?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Why, Phania, why? Because your father dotes<br />
On dull and sodden peace that never was<br />
Save in an old man's dream. We dine our foes!<br />
The city must throw ope her gates, forsooth,<br />
Lest the dear enemy should take some hurt<br />
Scaling the walls! They'd bleed us as we sleep,<br />
And Pelagon would vow the sword at 's throat<br />
Were Sachinessa's dozing kiss.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ho, hear</span><br />
The captain speak! You go to Syracuse,<br />
And not content? 'Tis well there's one cries peace.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> What's Syracuse? To conquer Sparta,—that<br />
Were warrior's work! Your father robs me of it,<br />
Bringing the water where I set my fires.<br />
But come! I've not made love to a soul to-day<br />
Save ancient Sparta. Ha! it is an art<br />
That should be spared such sweat. The Heavens mean<br />
That I shall pull to yoke these two days left,<br />
And love take beggar's chance.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ah, but two days!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Come to our myrtle nook——</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Nay, Sybaris</span><br />
Might turn me out. That is her royal seat<br />
When you'll play consort.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What, my Phania? Dour?</span><br />
Does Creon keep away?</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">I'm not for him.</span><br />
You know it, Biades.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">But he does not.</span><br />
Too oft I find him here.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And Sybaris</span><br />
Comes out of count, knowing you like this spot.<br />
Yon path is worn of every blade.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Her feet</span><br />
Can be so cruel?</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">You love her still!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Nay, sweet.</span><br />
Not for three days. Believe me, cousin!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;"><em>Cousin!</em></span><br />
Athene save us! See her now,—the plague!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> By gentle Eros, Phania, we'll be kind.<br />
I loved her once.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">How tall she is!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Ay, moves</span><br />
A very sylph!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Sybaris comes on, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> A fair day's greeting, friends!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> We double it for thee.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">My dearest Syb!</span><br />
Do you turn snail, you keep your house so long?<br />
Why, <em>hours</em>, I think!</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Indeed!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Where lovers watch</span><br />
The dial, that's an age.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Oh, so!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>To Phania</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Do I</span><br />
Not know?</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> An age? Ay, love grows old and fades in 't.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> A thousand moons in journey o'er my love<br />
Would leave 't no withered hour! By the fair soul<br />
Of one who knows me true!</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">That is no woman.</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> A pretty oath!</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">But not a new one, dear.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Plead, Phania, dove! Let her not chide<br />
Poor penitence on knee. In two days' time<br />
I sail to war, yet stony Sybaris<br />
Would break love's wings with doubt—put me aboard<br />
With sighs to sink my ship——</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Nay, Sybaris!</span><br />
I'll vow him constant now.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Inconstancy</span><br />
Once stopped for breath, and fools came with a chair.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> No thaw in thee? Plead, Phania, sweet! Your lips<br />
Are unimpeached where mine too oft have worn<br />
Conviction's droop.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Forgive, dear Sybaris!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ay, be my tongue! Tell her that as the bee<br />
Betrays the honey-buds yet hiveward flies,<br />
I've left all by-roads for the true home-path.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> Then you have trailed all others stale. There's none<br />
Left new but that.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Tell her when I have sailed</span><br />
From Athens' eyes into the sun that eve<br />
May skirt with blood——</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">No, no!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">—to walk with you</span><br />
The haven's brim, watching the waves that throw<br />
The sea-heart there, and know that from my ship<br />
Pulses a heart to love's dream-sandalled feet<br />
As constant as the sea to Athens' shore.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Sybaris moves relentingly nearer. Biades behind Phania,
who sits on bench, leans to talk into her ear, but keeps
his eyes tenderly on Sybaris</em>]</p>
<p class="noidt">Ah, tell her, Phania, sleep is slow to come<br />
Where warriors bed, and unforgiven hours<br />
Are thorny comrades for an age-long night.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> Then here's my hand. Pray Pallas 'tis no fool's!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Yours too, my Phania! In one breath I seal<br />
Judge and defender mine! [<em>Kissing their hands</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Now with my ship</span><br />
Will prayers go tendant, mending every sail<br />
That storm may batter. Typhon, whirl the sea<br />
To insurrection,—send her meekest wave<br />
To crinkle round the sun, and hiss from Heaven<br />
The mariner's port-star,—I shall be safe<br />
While I have implorators fair as ye<br />
To melt the gods!</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, Biades, thou must</span><br />
Be loved or die. Is 't heart or vanity,<br />
That's so insatiate?</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay, you have forgiven!</span></p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> But will not coo yet. Is that Creon comes?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 12em;">[<em>Looking to upper right</em>]</span><br />
You'll meet him, Phania?</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">He knows his way.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Has news!</span><br />
I'll pick the pigeon. [<em>Goes up right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">O, my Sybaris,</span><br />
Thanks for this generous peace! But who could long<br />
Be harsh to Biades?</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Such steel's not in me.</span><br />
I but stood off, a shadow of resolve,<br />
To hear him woo me back. His coldest words<br />
Are ta'en from music, but when warm in suit,<br />
Then music sues to him.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Woo <em>you</em>? Didst say</span><br />
<em>Woo you</em>? Couldst think—couldst dream—couldst let blind sense<br />
So flatter?</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> Blind? Well, you've no eye to lend.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> His words were all for me, and through my heart<br />
Were sifted to your ears.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">For you, my dear?</span><br />
Now what a gosling 'tis!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Oh! Ask him then!</span></p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> You'll beat that bush. I have no doubt in cover.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Biades returns with Creon</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> You'll not go out?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">No, friend.</span></p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I warn you, sir!</span><br />
It is your reputation left i' the street<br />
That knocks for you.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">'Twill care for itself.</span></p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">Nay, come!</span><br />
Soon every ear in Athens will be crammed<br />
Wi' the tale.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">What tale?</span></p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">'Tis said that Biades</span><br />
Was cap and spur to riot that defaced<br />
The Hermæ yesternight.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Denosed, you mean.</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> O, do not jest! I tremble, Biades!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> You must o'ertake the lie, my lord, ere winds<br />
Be up with 't.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Let it fly, my Creon. When<br />
Its wings are worn 'twill down for any heel<br />
To trample.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> Not this feather. It broods on the air,<br />
And its dark issue makes eclipse your sun<br />
Can push no beam through.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Sinon's pate has hatched</span><br />
The ebon chick.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">You're not far out. He wants</span><br />
The generalship.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Hippargus, upper right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Here comes a tongue to market.</span><br />
Most purchasable, tho' neither cut nor dried.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> The senate's messenger!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Greeting, Hippargus.</span></p>
<p><em>Hip.</em> Greeting, my lord,—and I must lay command<br />
On that, for you are charged on the instant to appear<br />
Before the Council.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The instant? Cramped to that?</span><br />
And what to do there, sir?</p>
<p><em>Hip.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Give proof you touched</span><br />
With no profaning and injurious hand<br />
Our threshold gods.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Go gently back, Hippargus,</span><br />
And tell the senators I pardon them,<br />
Knowing they do mistake. They would not lay<br />
So dull an antic on me, and this charge<br />
Is meant for Bico, my fat monkey here,<br />
Whom they may have for trial.</p>
<p><em>Hip.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Spare such jest,</span><br />
My worthy lord. A hundred tongues have sworn<br />
You said in open street, nor cared who heard,<br />
The guardian Hermæ might be nipped of ears,<br />
And noses too, yet serve our pious turn,<br />
Since they smell out no faults and citizens<br />
Confess none.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ah! Do they make wit a crime,</span><br />
Who have no taint of its color? Say 'twere red<br />
The senators would never be mistook<br />
For woodpeckers. Gods! When they prate, I know<br />
Athene's owl is stuffed, and her wise serpent<br />
An old-year slough! Off now! Your pannier's full.<br />
Trot and unpack.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit Hippargus</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Out! Follow, and deny</span><br />
This answer! Dare you, standing on the top<br />
And slippery point of fortune, throw your cap<br />
In Heaven's face?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Dare I do less? No, friend.<br />
The Council fears me, and would see me down.<br />
My power is in the people, who for gold<br />
And merry flattery give me their love.<br />
But now they're on the quibble how to turn,<br />
To me or Sinon. I'll not let them see<br />
My office brought to question, and myself<br />
Outfaced by perjurers in Sinon's keep.<br />
Nay, when they find I'm not the senate's groom,<br />
But know myself, their pride will know me too,<br />
And I shall go to bed as I rose up,<br />
The Athenian general.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">The street will bellow.</span><br />
I'll listen to it, and pick interpretation<br />
From 'ts roar. You'll come with me?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Though oracles,</span><br />
On every curb and step, begged audience,<br />
I'd not go out.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit Creon</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh, me!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Why so? I'm not a hare</span><br />
To jump because a leaf falls. Wag the hour,<br />
And Pleasure wait on us! If she fill not<br />
My cup to-day, I fear it must go empty<br />
A good twelvemonth. There are fair maids<br />
In Syracuse, but they'll peer on me through<br />
A crimson lattice.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">You'll not see them, sir!</span><br />
Or break a thousand oaths! So oft you've sworn<br />
No beauty out of Athens could persuade<br />
Your eyes to worship.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Then the Spartan maid</span><br />
Lodged here will let him sleep.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">What maid is this?</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Why, Pyrrha,—Stesilaus' daughter.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Here?</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Ay, everybody's here.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">I saw her leave</span><br />
The chariot. Such clothes!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;"><em>No</em> clothes, you mean!</span></p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> [<em>In shocked aside</em>] Just to the knees!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">And open to the hips!</span></p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> You say it!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And manners, none. I took her nuts</span><br />
And sugared poppy seeds. She said she kept<br />
No parrot.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> Here's a guest!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And when I said</span><br />
I <em>lived</em> on them——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">My dainty!</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">—then she asked</span><br />
If that made me so little!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Ay, they feed</span><br />
To grow in Sparta. Breed but monsters there.<br />
No arts, no grace, no soft and tendrilled speech<br />
That creeps to ends of being and looks back<br />
Exultant and afraid. They are not men,<br />
But, wearing human port, would force on us<br />
A beastly comradeship. Set me to woo<br />
A toad bred in a ditch of Attica,<br />
But not a maid of Sparta! Were she fair<br />
As was Persephone when she drew the god<br />
From nether earth, yet sprung from that hard soil,<br />
I'd let her beauty pass.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hist, Biades!</span><br />
She's yonder.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>They look middle left, where Pyrrha appears</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> I like the garden best when 't wears<br />
Pale Cybele's gown. Apollo makes it harsh<br />
In black and gold—Ah, Pyrrha! You have found<br />
Our blossomy corner. Welcome to it, and know<br />
My neighbor, Sybaris,—and Biades.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> I greet you, friends of Athens.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">Will you sit?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Who has not removed his gaze from her since her entrance</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">A walk! That was your wish.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I'll show the paths.</span></p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> Nay, here's a seat.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">There's Artystone's rose,</span><br />
Brought from the Mysian stream——</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">She'll stay with us.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> The ivory cup of Isis, where each night<br />
Her one tear falls,—and flowers whose sisters blow<br />
In walled Ecbatana.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Come, sit by me,</span><br />
Dear Pyrrha.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> I would see the garden.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Would?</span><br />
We'll guide you then.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ay, who would dawdle here?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> But rest a moment, Pyrrha. I mind me now,<br />
That from this spot the eye may best o'ersweep<br />
The full design. Yon mass of planes——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I'll walk</span><br />
Alone. [<em>Moves off, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> Well!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Said I not?</span></p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Does nothing that</span><br />
She's asked! And stares as though a woman's eyes<br />
Were made to see with, when their chiefest use<br />
Is not to see!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Crude as her Spartan rocks!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I'll follow.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Nay, she'd <em>walk alone</em>!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">She's Athens' guest.</span><br />
I'll not be rude, whatever lack in her<br />
Provokes me to it.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nor shall I, by all</span><br />
The grace in th' world!</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">You shame us, Biades.</span><br />
We'll go with you.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Each taken an arm of Biades as he goes right. Pelagon
enters, upper left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Daughter, this way!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Phania returns reluctantly. The others pass off, right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">My chick,—</span><br />
Nay, I'll be brief. I know young feet would flock.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> O, father dear, I'd please you first! [<em>Kissing him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">Well, well!...</span><br />
You've seen Lord Stesilaus?</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Just a peek.</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Nay, he's no bear.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">He'll bite though. I know that.</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Now, Phania, now! I have a reason, miss,<br />
A most dear reason you should win the love<br />
Of Stesilaus.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Love!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">I mean, my duck,</span><br />
A father's gentle love.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">But, daddy, he's——</span><br />
So tall!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> He has a heart, my daughter.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Fum!</span><br />
Are you so sure?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Find it the shortest way.</span><br />
Remember he's your—hmm!—remember—hmm!—<br />
That he's a man—as I am—and his pride<br />
But April frost. Be as he were myself——</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> As you? Oh, dear! [<em>Under his arm</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And must I cuddle so?</span><br />
Nay, that's for my own fa-fa!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Little Phania!</span><br />
I'll lose my pipit,—lose my bonny bird!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Lose me? O, never, daddy, never! I'm<br />
Your pipsey, wipsey, umpsey, ownty own!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Resolutely</em>] Wait here. I'll send him by.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">But, father, why——</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Nay, that's my secret. Not for little birds.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exit upper left. Phania waits until he disappears, then
turns flying, and vanishes lower right. Archippe and
Sachinessa enter, middle left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Blest be Athene, there's nobody here!<br />
The house is overrun, and Pelagon<br />
Has twenty shadows, one at every door.<br />
Out, in,—in, out,—with ears like aprons held<br />
For every whisper! Here we're safe to talk.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> O, dearest Sachinessa, what's to do?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> We'll go to Philon. If he says confess——</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> Confess? I'll never do it! I will take<br />
What way he will but that, though 't be the one<br />
Leads out of life. You do not know my lord!</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Your Stesilaus is no god, Archippe.<br />
I'll tell you that.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">If it should come to him</span><br />
We never changed our daughters! If he learns<br />
That twenty years I've made him wear the hood,<br />
His roof no more would shade me. Nay! Confess?<br />
Oh, Sachinessa, I should lose him quite!</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> That could be borne, I think.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">But lose my Pyrrha?</span><br />
Be driven out from her? See her no more?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> There, friend, you stir me. Such a piece of man!<br />
To strike like that because a woman's wit<br />
Has clipped his own! He's not suspected you<br />
In all these years?</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> Not once. I've watched myself<br />
As I were my own jailer, fenced my heart,<br />
And made my love a thief that gave my child<br />
No open looks, but by her bed at night<br />
Stole comfort as she slept.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Not I, Archippe!</span><br />
I've laughed above the snores of Pelagon,<br />
Knowing my darling near, whom he thought far<br />
As Sparta. Come! You're taller by a head<br />
Than I, yet die with quaking. And I thought<br />
Each Lacedæmon wife a lioness.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> Ah, but their lords are lions.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Well, they've mane</span><br />
Enough, but they'd not shake it in my face.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> Will you confess?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Why, no. For Pelagon</span><br />
Would play the spousal saint, sit on the clouds,<br />
And with a piety intolerable<br />
Forgive his perjured wife. What soul could bear it?<br />
But I'll not part with Phania, know you that!</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> What then?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">We'll go to Philon. How to keep</span><br />
Our secret and our daughters,—that's a nut<br />
To break the oracle's teeth.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">If 't can be done!</span></p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> It must be done, Archippe. Come,—I hear<br />
A chatter. This way out.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They leave, upper right. Biades, Pyrrha, Sybaris, and
Phania enter lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">What of our garden,</span><br />
Now all is seen?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Here gods should live, not men.</span><br />
At every turn I seemed to lose the step<br />
Of a departing deity.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">We are content</span><br />
With our Athenian lords, and seek no charm<br />
To turn them into gods.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Showing a locket</em>] I've here a charm<br />
Does more than that. This jewel webbed<br />
In mystic rings—and set——</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">The Persian gem!</span><br />
You promised me——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">It is a magic stone,</span><br />
That gazed upon by a true-minded maid——</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Securing the trinket</em>] I'll see it, sir!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">I've heard you vow your bride</span><br />
Should wear this locket.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>To Phania</em>] So she shall.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">[<em>To Sybaris</em>] None else!</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">[<em>To Pyrrha</em>]</span><br />
You hear my oath. Come, Sybaris, sit here<br />
And, Phania,—come! You both shall peep at fate<br />
Through a ruby portal, if your hearts be true.<br />
Now fix your look——</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">We'll see the same!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Not so.</span><br />
Each fortune's connate with the gazer's star,<br />
And tinted as she dreams. Direct your eyes<br />
With flawless constancy, or you'll see naught.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Not lift them once?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nay, fasten every thought</span><br />
Deep in the jewel's fire, till I have said<br />
The Persian chant of welcome to the spirit<br />
Whose magic you shall see.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">A spirit? Oh!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> But she is fair,—framed as divinity<br />
For adoration.</p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">She!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Lift not your eyes.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Stands behind Phania and Sybaris and makes the incantation
an ardent address to Pyrrha</em>]</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Spirit of Fate, what mystical wooing</span>
<span class="i2">May win thee to pause where we pray?</span>
<span class="i0">Misers of Dream their locks are undoing,—</span>
<span class="i2">Mistress of Keys, wilt thou stay?</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Priestess, thyself, O fairer than dreaming,</span>
<span class="i2">Art deity's answer to prayer!</span>
<span class="i0">Dusk in thine eyes is the seer-burthen gleaming,</span>
<span class="i2">And moon-wands at rest in thy hair.</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Far-foot Desire is lost in the winding</span>
<span class="i2">Of valleys and gardens of thee!</span>
<span class="i0">Hoop of white arms is circumferent binding</span>
<span class="i2">The star-pastured world and me!</span>
</div></div>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Sybaris throws the locket at his feet. He turns and sees
that she and Phania have risen and are staring at him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>After a silence</em>] I do not know this game. Will leave you to it.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<em>Exit, middle left</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Syb.</em> And I'll go home! [<em>Exit, lower left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And I'll go tell my father!</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<em>Exit, upper left</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> And I'll go stand in th' donkey mart and bray<br />
Till a farmer buys me! Witched, and by a Spartan!<br />
Mad as the fleeing ass of Thessaly! [<em>Exit, upper right</em>]</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT II</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Approaching</em>] I'm Phania, sir.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> [<em>Looks at her incredulously, then walks left, leaving her centre</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">My blood and bone in that!</span><br />
What dwarf-dish has she fed on? Ugh!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Crossing</em>] <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I've come</span><br />
To walk with you. You like our garden, sir?<br />
We've bulbuls in it,—and wee, visiting wings<br />
From the unknown south. Can see them if you watch<br />
A place I know. They dart like breathing bits<br />
Of chrysoprase and sard o' the sun.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">Humph! You</span><br />
Are Phania?</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Braver</em>] Troth, I am! Wilt see a nest—<br />
So small as—that! Could put it on your thumb.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">[<em>Takes his hand</em>]</span><br />
I'll show you, sir. Don't you love <em>little</em> things?<br />
They wiggle to the heart, my daddy says.<br />
You love my <em>daddy</em>, don't you?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ugh! Your—Ugh!</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Defensive</em>] <em>I</em> love him,—yes, and all his friends. I do,<br />
Though they're—so tall. I come just to your beard.<br />
See now! [<em>Leans against him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Get off! You squeaking pewit! Ugh!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Quiveringly</em>] Have I displeased you, sir?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">Displeased me? No.</span><br />
You make contentment creep on honored bones<br />
Far back as Lacedæmon's earliest grave<br />
That opened for my house. You turn my blood<br />
That's not yet earthed, and hot as Sparta's pride,<br />
To drops that mutiny 'gainst their own succession<br />
And beg to be the end. Displeased? Oh, no!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<em>Retires, rear</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Oh, sir——</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Fails, and goes off weeping, lower right. Enter, upper
right, Biades and Creon</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> But this confusion, many-throated,<br />
Has single voice and warns articulate.<br />
A treasonous tempest rises, and you stand<br />
A god indifferent when you should bethink<br />
Yourself most mortal. Vilest mouths puff bold<br />
In Sinon's service. You must wax your way<br />
To th' Council——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Nay, no bending there!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">But——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Peace!</span><br />
Here's Stesilaus! He's most heavy shipped.<br />
What is aboard? And now comes Pelagon,<br />
With 's threshing-tongue a-ready. Chaff will fly.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Pelagon, upper left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> What thinkst of Phania? Is she not a chick?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> You've tricked me, Pelagon! What fubbery<br />
Have you put on me?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Sir? Now, now! Why, friend!</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> That's not my daughter!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Drawing Creon back</em>] Whist!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I'll see my own!</span><br />
<em>My</em> Phania! Not that bib,—that mewling piece,<br />
With th' milk still in her mouth!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Speak so of her?</span><br />
A bud in th' dew! A cherry next its leaf!<br />
A pippin on the limb!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Not mine, I say!</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> If you repent you did beget her, sir,<br />
I'll be your shift and own the curtained deed<br />
'Fore man and Heaven.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">That my child?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">Yours, friend.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Would she had never left Archippe's lap<br />
For Sachinessa's! Patience, cool my tongue!<br />
But I've done better by your Pyrrha!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Soft,</span><br />
Beseech you, Stesilaus! Here's no place<br />
For trumpeting our secret. And brief time<br />
Forbids it present voice. The hour is on<br />
To hear the people's answer. Come, my lord.<br />
Your comrades go before you. We're past late.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Friend Pelagon, though courtesy be pressed<br />
To th' kibe, I'll urge you keep at home. 'Tis best<br />
You be not seen in this. The lords, who know<br />
You lean to Sparta,—and for that all thanks,—<br />
Are pricked therewith to oppose us, when they else<br />
Might voice us favor.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ay, they know me, friend.</span><br />
My eye sets them at guard. They feel it, sir!<br />
Puts them on screw. Well, so,—I'll stay behind.<br />
But let me set you forth. [<em>Exeunt, upper right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Is 't trick, or truth?</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Touch me! A needle's point</span><br />
Could find no spot amazement hath not taken!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Didst hear it Creon? Pyrrha an Athenian!<br />
O, words of miracle, if ye be true,—<br />
Friend, friend, I'm in a whirl upon a way<br />
To use this strange unearthment for the good<br />
Of Athens. You'll be silent. Creon?</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Nay,</span><br />
I think——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> And now I've lost fair Phania!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Lost?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> With Mars i' the dusk of this debated time,<br />
The Athenian general may not wive himself<br />
With Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> True!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">I might give up command,</span><br />
And be no more my country's armored watch....<br />
Nay, Attica is first! That's sworn. I'll plunge<br />
The sacrificial knife deep as my love.<br />
And now 'tis done. Ah, Creon, tend thee well<br />
My gentle loss.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> This sets thee o'er thyself!<br />
O noblest bounty that in grace compeers<br />
With emulous Heaven! What in me can pay——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> No more of 't now. But what a secret this!<br />
If 't solely were my own—</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is, my lord!</span><br />
'Tis yours. I have no speech, no tongue for 't!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Thanks,</span><br />
My Creon, thanks! And will you go once more<br />
To th' street, where now it seems I have some need<br />
Of loyal ears?</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">I serve you, Biades. [<em>Exit, upper right</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Fast hooked, and feels no barb. If he'll lie dark<br />
Till I would stir the waters.... Is it truth?<br />
Pyrrha! Athenian born and Spartan bred!<br />
By Mars and Eros! Here's a captain's bride!<br />
There's flutter in me like a forest shook<br />
With waking birds!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Phania, still weeping</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Why, Phania! Such a shower,<br />
My kitkin!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Stesilaus sh-shook me so!<br />
Called me a sque-e-aking pewit!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Ha! He did?</span><br />
Well, listen to me, Phania. Come, look up.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<em>Lifts her chin</em>]</span><br />
A maid with little eyes should never weep.<br />
Leave that to Juno orbs. They swim in sorrow<br />
Like full moons in a lake, but beads like yours<br />
Are only bright when dry. Shun grief as you<br />
Shun mud. [<em>Exit, middle left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Gasping</em>] Why—Biades—he's gone!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He said——</span><br />
Oh, oh! If I could die——</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Sobs with abandon. Enter Alcanor, upper left. He
pauses before her. She looks up bewildered</em>]</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Ah, gentle star,</span><br />
What shrouds thee in this rain? Yet thou'rt not hid.<br />
Thy beauty shining on these clouds of pearl<br />
Makes every drop that dies reflecting thee<br />
A little, falling sun.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Oh, Biades said——</span><br />
He said—he said——</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">If what he said so troubles,</span><br />
Let me unsay it with a kiss that makes<br />
Trouble forgot and dumb. [<em>Kisses her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>On his bosom</em>] I'm not—I'm not—<br />
Not <em>ugly</em>, sir?</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">O, dove of Aphrodite!</span><br />
Earth stores her beauty in this single face,<br />
That she may show one jewel to the skies<br />
When gods boast they have all!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Phania purrs comfortedly, then releases herself</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">How dare you, sir,</span><br />
Attack me? Who are you?</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I do not know.</span></p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Not know?</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Nothing of self or where I am.</span><br />
It may be those are trees on giant guard,<br />
And these bright peeping things are flowers' eyes,<br />
And this is happy grass we stand upon,<br />
And that blue watcher is the faithful sky,<br />
But I know naught except my soul is yours,<br />
O, maid-magician, in whose snare I lie<br />
Kissing the net that binds me! [<em>Kissing her fallen curls</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">But you know</span><br />
Your name!</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> Not in this world a minute old<br />
That now I find me in, but in time past<br />
I was Alcanor, Stesilaus' son.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> O!—then—why—all is well! You're noble, sir!<br />
My father will approve you.</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Hast a father?</span><br />
And art not magic-born? Then I perceive<br />
I must go back and find my earthly wits.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> Nay, he is Pelagon, your father's friend.</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> You're Phania, then!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Giving her hand</em>] I am.</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">No more than this?</span><br />
No kiss?</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Very shy</em>] You've had it, sir.</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">A phantom one!</span><br />
'Twas in a dream, as two ghost-lovers meet<br />
On an Elysian path. Too cold for earth!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Touching her cheek</em>] Nay, it is warm here yet.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>He takes her in his arms, and they withdraw lower right.
Pelagon enters, upper right, in time to witness the embrace</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Rousing from his horror</em>] Her brother! Gods!<br />
Whip me all hagglers! We have stood so long<br />
At door of our confession that this shame<br />
Gets by us. Phania and Alcanor! Oh!<br />
No shuffling now! When Stesilaus comes,<br />
The tale must out!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter Pyrrha, middle left. She crosses, passing Pelagon,
who retreats rear, unseen by her. She loiters right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Here's opportunity</span><br />
At beck. I'll follow. [<em>Advances</em>] Ahem! My daughter,——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 19em;">Sir?</span><br />
You seek your daughter? I will look this way.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 16em;">[<em>Goes farther right</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> I must advance, and take her Spartan guard<br />
With gentleness. My love, 'tis you I seek.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Stiffly</em>] You'd speak to me?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">My little Pyrrha,——</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 18.5em;">Little!</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> I think of Phania. In my heart you both<br />
Hold undivided place. Shall we not chat a bit,<br />
My Pyrrha?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Kitchen maids do that, not men<br />
Of State.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Nay, there's a time when one may cast<br />
The civic garment and take household ease<br />
In modest robe.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Aside</em>] A swaddling band would fit him!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> You will not hear me?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I wait upon you, sir.</span><br />
For if your hostship I forget, and leave<br />
The fees of grace unpaid, I yet must know<br />
You are my father's friend. Say what you will,<br />
My lord.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> That word undears me! Let your tongue<br />
Breach colder custom and give me a name<br />
That brings me near in love as Stesilaus.<br />
Wilt call me father, Pyrrha?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Retreating</em>] You, my lord?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> They've frozen her, poor child! Must blow more warm.<br />
Indeed a father. Call me what I am,<br />
For so I love you, Pyrrha.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Is it thus</span><br />
The Athens sages talk?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ay, we're not cut</span><br />
Of ice as Spartans are. Here your poor heart<br />
Shall know what sun is, and the Springs you've lost,<br />
Betrayed without a bloom in frigid Sparta,<br />
In Athens shall blow fair. You are amazed,<br />
My sweet, but by this kiss——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Giving him a blow</em>] You goose-eyed goat!<br />
I strike not at your years, Lord Pelagon,<br />
But at your mind which has not come of age<br />
And gives me elder right.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exit, middle left. While Pelagon is recovering, enter
Stesilaus, upper right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Welcoming the interruption</em>] You, Stesilaus?<br />
So soon, friend, from the Assembly?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Late, sir, late!</span><br />
More haste had been more prudence.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">Why, why, why!</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Where is your buttery nephew, Biades?<br />
Who slips to the seat of question and melts all<br />
Into one potch of folly!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">But I'd know——</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Why I am here, not there? A crater mouth<br />
That calls itself a people hissed eruption<br />
Into my face, and without bow I set<br />
My back to 't, sir!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Blame me for all! I knew</span><br />
I should not stay behind! The gods do know<br />
I am the voice of Athens. 'Tis no pride<br />
That speaks bare truth. I'll go——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Tuh, tuh!</span><br />
A word with Biades——</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">But not too sharp,</span><br />
My friend. He is of weight——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">No sharper than</span><br />
My stick! Then I set out for Sparta, where<br />
The very ground knows Stesilaus walks!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> And Phania goes with you?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">Not if the chit</span><br />
May corner in your kitchen! She's worth that.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> You'll leave her here?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">It will content me. I'll</span><br />
Surrender both.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> What? Both! Nay, your free heart<br />
Shall not outdo my own.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">You'll give me Pyrrha?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Friend of my soul, I will!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> [<em>Moved</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Thanks, Pelagon.</span><br />
She's dearer than my son. More like my blood.<br />
Alcanor is too soft and woman-lipped.<br />
Too much Archippe in him from his birth,<br />
Nor blows could drive it out.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">And mine own eyes</span><br />
Have seen a cooing match between himself<br />
And Phania.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Zeus! His sister!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">While we speak,</span><br />
The fated pair are yonder——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I'll get him home!</span><br />
And leave the witch to you! Had I a doubt<br />
To hold me back, this turn would be<br />
Decision's point. She must stay here.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">But how</span><br />
Make answer to our wives? Our wisdom's nicked<br />
Where it is tenderest if we confess.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> What's to confess? I know my will and do it.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Ay, ay, you bear your wife in a sack, but mine<br />
Is on her feet and goes her pace. Look yon!<br />
They come together! A brace, and one of them<br />
Would tie my tongue.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Tie water in a brook!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Archippe and Sachinessa enter upper right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> We do not come to shame you, noble lords<br />
And husbands, though we've that to bear which put<br />
To honest ballad would uncrest your pride<br />
And clip a reef or two from the tall sail<br />
Of dignity.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Why, madam, this approach?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> I walk, sir, in my garden when I please.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> We have a suit, my honored lords, which you<br />
May think full strange, remembering our prayers<br />
Of twenty years ago.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">What suit canst have?</span><br />
If you must try the goose-step out of doors,<br />
Go thank the gods for suiting you with me,<br />
Who save you from all suit by hearing none.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Not hear us, sir? I'll catch you by the ears<br />
And shake the pride-wool out, but you shall hear!<br />
Suited with you! And then go thank the gods!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Why, Sachinessa, love! What you, duck?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> This, Pelagon. When in that sad year gone<br />
You took my child from me——</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">What? That again?</span></p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Not that, but this. I did not stay you then,<br />
Being young in wedlock and my wit at cheep<br />
In its first feathers. But this second time<br />
When you lift up your hand to cut the bough<br />
Whose root is in my heart, I'll speak so loud<br />
That if your dull ear miss, I'll reach you yet<br />
By way o' the stars that will cry back my wrong<br />
When they so hear it.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You would beg for Phania?</span></p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> I would. There is no source of love so great<br />
As brooding care. That makes the mother, not<br />
The childing pangs. Though she, from the first hour,<br />
Will cherish what she must so dearly buy,<br />
'Tis day by watchful day her swelling love<br />
Is born. So I, as new days past, forgot<br />
The child of my brief pain, and gave to one<br />
That nestled in her place my care-born love.<br />
Now you would strike again——</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Sweet, by my soul,—</span><br />
Nay, Sachinessa, dearest heart, be calm.<br />
Your words have never in our mated life<br />
Moved me as now. If Stesilaus yields,<br />
And his stern will be broken by your plea,<br />
I am content.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> I'm so far moved, my friend,<br />
That I will hear Archippe speak her wish.<br />
Her love for Pyrrha will not match with that<br />
Your wife bestows on Phania.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Ay, my lord,</span><br />
I've never loved the stranger as my own,<br />
But she is dearer than my own grown strange.<br />
I see in Phania all my tender loss,<br />
But it is lost forever. Give me, Pyrrha.<br />
I have no other daughter.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Keep her, dame.</span><br />
But make this weakness not your heckling ground<br />
Where you would spar for favors. No more suits!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> And, Sachinessa, hear the same from me.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> You borrow feathers and I'll twitch 'em out!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> [<em>To Archippe</em>] Lest you should badger, footed safe on this,<br />
Know that my judgment's not earwigged by you<br />
To this repeal, but now configures pat<br />
To the act itself, that keeps a constant step<br />
With our first purpose. Our intent comes out<br />
With even edges, though reversed in face.<br />
An Athens' maid shall be a Spartan mother,<br />
And here shall dwell a dame of Spartan blood.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> You hear it, Sachinessa. I'm not one<br />
To throw my pack away in sight of home.<br />
Come mud, come mire, I bear my judgment out,<br />
As Athens knows.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I'll swear to it there's no man</span><br />
I' the city better hides the sun with a sieve!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> And secondly, my dame, know that I've won<br />
My high contention that the laws of Sparta<br />
Are best for brooding earth a godlike race.<br />
For here my proof enroots in warmest life<br />
That they can aggrandize the chalky veins<br />
Of pampered Attica to ducts that bear<br />
The red, unconquered sap of Lacedæmon.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> So Pyrrha is your proof!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">No question there.</span><br />
A weak, Athenian babe grows up the pride<br />
Of Sparta, while a budling of her own,<br />
Nursled by Athens' soft and careless shift,<br />
Scarce grows to woman's level——</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Why, you puffed——</span><br />
You pride-blown——</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Come with me!</span></p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">But such a bladder!</span><br />
He'd top a flood into the second world<br />
And wet but half his skin!</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nay, Sachinessa,</span><br />
Our suit is won. No words! We'll haste once more<br />
To Philon's shrine. For this dear joy I'll bend<br />
A willing knee. Come, come!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">[<em>Draws her away, upper right</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Capering</em>] Could reel it now<br />
Like school-boy 'scaped a whipping!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Shame! Your years</span><br />
Will blush. [<em>Goes left</em>] Now Biades, and then farewell!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Ah, there's my mourning cloak! I'll go at once<br />
To th' Council, and——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Vain labor, Pelagon.</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Nay, I will stir them!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Biades! Is 't he?</span><br />
May eyes report it to a brain unshaken?<br />
... Ho, sir,—or madam?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Did you speak, my lord?</span><br />
Your pardon! I was buried here,—quite drowned<br />
I' the honey of this tale. Sir, it suggests,—<br />
But that's not it,—the style, so quaint, so pure,—<br />
It plays with thoughts and leaves them bright as shells<br />
The sea has polished to their curling edges.<br />
You'll hear this line? 'Tis worth a pause. Eh, not?<br />
You've never wooed the script? Ah, I forget.<br />
War is the art of Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Are you man?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> What's that to an artist, sir? Life in me packs<br />
The germinal grain of all, and what may come<br />
To birth and bloom, I leave to nursing Fate.<br />
But you seem ruffled,—warm. Pray have my fan.<br />
Then take my parchment,—sit you in this nook<br />
And read of Corys and his water-nymph<br />
Until the charm of an unhurrying world<br />
Steals wave-like round you.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Olympus! Was 't this voice<br />
That tripped my reason? Led my cautious years<br />
To take instruction from a dizzened ape<br />
And lose the cause they guarded? Was 't myself<br />
So slubbered judgment——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ah, must I believe</span><br />
You honored my good counsel?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Good!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">'Twas good</span><br />
For Athens. Ha, you slipped into the noose<br />
As easily as my finger takes this ring.<br />
A wondrous sapphire here. You know the stone?<br />
This is from Egypt,—has the desert fire<br />
'Neath Nilus' liquid smile. Is 't not a treasure?<br />
But I forget. Your Sparta has no gems.<br />
By Hera's belt, your country goes too bare<br />
For this adornèd earth!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Come, Biades!</span><br />
Throw off that gown, and with a captain's sword<br />
Deny this folly!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Friend, 'tis not my hour</span><br />
For exercise. Our moods, I see, would quarrel.<br />
But here's my thornless world. You'll pardon me.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Find me Alcanor, daughter. And this hour<br />
We leave for Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I am ready, sir.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exit, lower right. Stesilaus goes into house, upper left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> She has good eyes, and used them. Overshot,<br />
By Hermes! I must follow,—'twixt this fool<br />
And meditation's eye must interpose<br />
My soldier self!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Where's Stesilaus? Stesilaus, ho!<br />
Find Stesilaus!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">[<em>Stesilaus returns, upper left</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">O, my friend, they're mad,</span><br />
And you must fly! I never was so battered!<br />
The senators cry out you played with them<br />
As though their stationed honors were a row<br />
Of last year's weanlings,—first to say you bore<br />
Full power to treat, then at their open answer<br />
To cover and prefer the opposite,<br />
Declaring that their noble terms must cool<br />
On th' road to Sparta! As I speak your comrades<br />
Are driven through the gates. You must not stay.<br />
They'll have your life, they are so worked. Come, come!<br />
I know a way—I'll get you through——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I'll go</span><br />
The way I came.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay, nay, I'll slip you out!</span><br />
Leave here your wife and daughter. In gentler hour<br />
I'll send them after, with your son,—</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I'll speak</span><br />
To Pyrrha——</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> No! This way! The world's at somersault!<br />
The turtle's on his back, his claws to Heaven!<br />
No one would hear me! <em>Me!</em> The voice of Athens!<br />
And jeered me down, for I was Biades' kin,—<br />
Though why the wind sits so I know not!<br />
Come—come—I was so battered——</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exeunt, upper left. Pyrrha and Biades enter, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">But one word!</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> I've let you shower words in hope to drain<br />
Your breath of them, but they grow to a hail.<br />
Pelt me no more, Athenian.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">O, that name</span><br />
I held my pearl of honor is become<br />
A wounding thorn! I'll wear 't no more.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">You'll be</span><br />
A Spartan?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ay, if you are one!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">So vows</span><br />
An Athens' captain.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Nay, I have no place,</span><br />
No rank, no office, duty or pursuit,<br />
But this my gage is in. Nor rest till I have won!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Then you'll die weary, sir. So long 'twill take<br />
To make me yours.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">If you will love my shade</span><br />
I'll on the instant make myself a ghost!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Love's burning deeds do ever lie before him.<br />
He ne'er gets past to make them history.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> O, hear my oath! Thy birthland shall be mine!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Whist, Biades! The gods might hear you too.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I'll swear it in the ears of Zeus!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">By what</span><br />
Irreverenced deity wilt break it?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ah,</span><br />
By none, fair Pyrrha! I'll stake my golden part<br />
In love's eternity, no land's more dear<br />
To my own heart than that which gave you birth.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Ay, for on Spartan soil the laurel grows<br />
Which you would pluck from drenched defeat and set<br />
Among your bays. So dear as that!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>A clamor is heard in street</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I'll woo</span><br />
In better time. Till then let this pure gem<br />
Speak for me on your breast. 'Tis like my love,<br />
No sudden thing. For as this captive fire<br />
Dreamed in the heart of earth and could not wake<br />
Till beauty born in man sent down his kiss,<br />
So lay my love in Life from her first breath,<br />
Deep as unconsciousness, till at your step<br />
It knew itself. You scorn the half-hour flame,<br />
But in your coming like an instant dawn<br />
Find all its brevity. Ay, Pyrrha, sweet!<br />
And let my token lie, a patient prayer,<br />
Upon your bosom. Heaven should have its sun!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Drops the locket into the folds of her dress. She casts it
to the ground</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Athens is such a sun, and Sparta as my foot<br />
Shall overcloud it! [<em>Exit, middle left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Had she crushed my gem</span><br />
To bleeding dust, I'd pay it o'er to see<br />
Such flame unsheathe. Bright Eos necklaced with<br />
A darkling east could not more beauteously<br />
Threat earth with storm. [<em>Takes up the locket</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">You'll wear it yet, my terror,</span><br />
Or I'll cut out the tongue that can not wag<br />
To a woman's heart.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">[<em>Enter Creon from street</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">What, Creon? Dumb with news?</span><br />
Which I will guess before your tongue's uncrimped.<br />
We've lost our gentle guests? Our Spartan friends<br />
Are off?</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> They're driven out. But that is old.<br />
Atop that tale, like mountain on a hump,<br />
Comes one will wake you, sir! The tumbling streams<br />
That bore the Spartans out, rage back again,<br />
A gathered flood against you,—you, my lord!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ah!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> Sinon's poison spreads till men<br />
That yesterday lay down before you, now<br />
Cry for your death. I warned you, friend!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">You did.</span><br />
Be happy then. Your duty's done.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Oh, sir,</span><br />
Your house is sacked, and all your golden plate,<br />
Parcelled on robber backs, is carried out<br />
And spots the city with a hundred suns!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> There's more i' the world. Let that not trouble you.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> Your robes are in the street, and carters' wheels<br />
Grow royal with them!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Well, there yet are looms.</span><br />
While weavers know their art this is no loss.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> Your pictures——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What? If they've one finger laid</span><br />
On those immortal treasures——</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">All are riddled!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> All, Creon? Not my Zeuxis? No! The stones<br />
Hurled at it would have paused as though a god<br />
Were hidden there!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">All, friend.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ay, these are tears.</span><br />
But I will chide them and think on my sword.<br />
Now I must bend me to the senators,—<br />
Get leave to call my troops,—<br />
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">[<em>Enter a body of senators, Amentor at their head</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">Most noble lords,</span><br />
I was about to seek you.</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Shifts your mood,</span><br />
Proud Biades? The answer's not yet cold<br />
That came so hot from you,—a two-edged shame<br />
That struck into your honor as our own!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Nay, gentle senators, Athenian fathers!<br />
That you could note so low, so foul a charge<br />
As secret Sinon brought against my name,<br />
Gave me the block, the bellows, and the fire<br />
Wherewith I forged my answer,—one that kept<br />
My honor whole, and if your own needs surgery,<br />
Lay 't not to me, but let good sense mend all,<br />
And give me leave to go against this mob<br />
Now scarring Athens' beauty.</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Go alone.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I have an army.</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ask Lord Sinon that.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> When fishes drown!</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Put out your single arm,</span><br />
And feel your army in it. Athens' troops<br />
Are now in Sinon's charge. You are no more<br />
Her general. You are banished.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Is this so?</span></p>
<p><em>Senators.</em> It is.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Then I am dumb. Words on your heat</span><br />
Would fall as snow,—and I am not a man<br />
To let my scars speak, though my body bears<br />
Enough to cry you shame.</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">We know your valor,</span><br />
But with it goes a pride no State could bear<br />
But that it must. Make your escape, my lord.<br />
The people pressed us, and we save your life<br />
By this decree.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> O, Athens that did love me!</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> And now repents that love, for know you, sir,<br />
Though men may be irreverent as they choose,<br />
They'll follow only who revere their gods.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exeunt senators</em>]</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> But you were meek!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">If I had let them know</span><br />
I've yet a tongue, they might have had that too,<br />
And in the courts where I must sue for love<br />
'Twill be my royal member,—all my suite<br />
And kingly plenitude.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They will repent.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> On knees, sir! Banished! O, my heart could lend<br />
Hot Sirius fire!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;"> You! Banished!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Nay, while sense</span><br />
From wit and speech are undivorced, and courage<br />
Knits them in purpose drinking up the seas<br />
That distance me from Athens, who shall say<br />
I'm banished? Bribe mankind and nature too,<br />
Ye bleary senators! Suborn the winds!<br />
Put me at end of farthest watery leagues!<br />
While there's no rift between me and my gods,<br />
I'll shake this night as from Apollo's brow<br />
And show my day emergent!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Where wilt go?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> To Persia first, where I am dear to Phernes.<br />
And then, perchance, with Persia at my back,<br />
Sparta may find me fair, though now I'm black<br />
As Pluto's poker. We'll not flag, my heart,<br />
Till every fleet o' the world rides here and makes<br />
This saucy harbor tremble! What an ague then<br />
Shall shake thee, Athens, thinking on this hour!</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT III</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>The assembly ground of the Spartans. Maidens discovered. A dance
is ending.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> We limped through that. Apollo! Are there thorns<br />
I' the grass? We'll better it. Come!</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">No time. I hear</span><br />
The senators.</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> They wait beyond the bridge<br />
For old Aristogeiton. Come, my maids!<br />
You, Dianessa need to school your toes.<br />
'Twas you played wild-foot—twice!</p>
<p><em>Art.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Save her a slip</span><br />
When Agis' eye is on her!</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Faith, she'd be</span><br />
No bride this year!</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;"> What ache for that? His love</span><br />
Is slight if 't hangs upon my toes.</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">My troth!</span><br />
Less might catch more!</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You, Nacia, are not so lithe</span><br />
As a ferret in a hoop. An Athens maid<br />
Might labor so in all her skirts.</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;"> Ho, ho!</span><br />
A little puff blow such a fire? The coals<br />
Were hot then!</p>
<p><em>Myr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Nay, my girls, we'll douse you both</span><br />
I' the river yonder if you flame at naught.<br />
How, Dianessa, dance the maids of Athens?<br />
But surely not in skirts!</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My father saw them,</span><br />
And so he said.</p>
<p><em>Myr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Why dance at all then? Grace</span><br />
That cadent girdles the invisible waves<br />
Of flute and harp is born of faining limbs,<br />
And hide them who may see it?</p>
<p><em>The.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">No doubt they bob</span><br />
Like bears in blankets, and believe they dance.</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> Pyrrha could say. But since she came from Athens<br />
Who hears her speak?</p>
<p><em>Art.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">She keeps from all our games,</span><br />
And scorns the wrestle, though our noblest youths<br />
Have sent her challenge.</p>
<p><em>The.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ay! Lets Dianessa wear</span><br />
The vestal bays, nor cares if Hieron<br />
Be there to see.</p>
<p><em>Myr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come, Pyrrha, tell us how</span><br />
The Athenian maidens dance with shrouded feet.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> They wear their robes as Morning does the mist<br />
That makes her beauty greater and her dream<br />
Live on in men.</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ah, maidens, here's a tale</span><br />
For the other ear.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">The bare and brazen sun</span><br />
That's up without a cloud, cheers to the hunt,<br />
The fight, the bruited path,—makes careful dames<br />
Send linen to the ford, and say "Zeus grant,<br />
We'll air the beds!"</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ay, wives must know their season.</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> But let night-swimming Morn come up<br />
In foamy veil, and her priest-hearted rose<br />
Stays lusty feet and gives adventure's hour<br />
To the achieving soul.</p>
<p><em>Art.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">What kin is this</span><br />
To th' matter?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Why, Artante, when we dance</span><br />
Half naked as we do before the youths,<br />
They say of us "A bed-mate there, and strong<br />
To bear and breed brave warriors for my house."<br />
But they in Athens who so watch the dance,<br />
See sheatheless Being shine through form that would,<br />
Not softened thus, first fill the ruder eye<br />
And leave unseen the token of a grace<br />
Earth may not shadow.</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Nay, you speak Athenian!</span><br />
Let's have it in our tongue.</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What grace can be</span><br />
So badgered in a gown?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ask flying doves,</span><br />
That rhythm the air till it doth ache with loss<br />
When they have passed. So have these maidens taught<br />
The silken fold to be their wingèd part.</p>
<p><em>Myr.</em> Ask her no more. Alack, our Pyrrha drank<br />
Of charmed Ilissus,—must go back to Athens!</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> But come! Our dance! We yet are Spartan maids.</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> [<em>Taking wreath from her hair</em>] Our flowers are far<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">from morning. See, these buds</span><br />
Are pale as they had never known the dew.<br />
But I know where some fleecy clusters blow<br />
And daintily edge the stream. Like tiny birds,<br />
Green-necked and lily-winged, they are alight<br />
A hundred to a stem. I'll have a wreath<br />
Of them.</p>
<p><em>Myr.</em> And I. These sad things are less bright<br />
Than locks they should adorn.</p>
<p><em>Art.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">New garlands, all!</span><br />
Where grow these favors? Dianessa, lead!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> 'Tis like his ruby. Nature loved them both<br />
With the same kiss,—the berry and the stone.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">[<em>Fastens cluster to her bosom</em>]</span><br />
"Heaven should have its sun." This sun will fade,<br />
But that I threw away had ne'er lost hue<br />
So near my heart, giving and taking fire.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<em>Something thrown from the bushes falls at her feet. She gazes</em></span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><em>at it, not taking it up</em>]</span><br />
Ah! Biades' jewel! Who.... [<em>Looks about guardedly</em>]</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Biades comes from the woods. He is dressed as a Helot
in a scant tunic of goat-skin, and wears a large cap</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Whose slave are you,</span><br />
Bold Helot?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Kneeling</em>] Thine! [<em>Takes off cap, revealing his quantity of</em><br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><em>dark curls</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Are you in love with death,</span><br />
That you have come to Sparta?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Nay, I come</span><br />
A banished man.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> I've heard how you were plucked.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> No feather left.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Life, sir, is yours, and you</span><br />
Cast it away in Lacedæmon.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nay,—</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> You whose dark outrage made her honor bleed,<br />
Think on her burning wound to set the foot<br />
Of impudence and live?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I know the Spartans.</span><br />
They will exalt my courage above death.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Courage that reckons so bates its own worth<br />
Till a coward might disport it. You will meet<br />
Death's mercy but no other.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">No, the virtue</span><br />
Dearest in them they'll hold dear in myself.<br />
But if not so,—blow out your candle, Fate,<br />
I'll go to bed.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Why not have fled to Persia?<br />
She's softer mannered,—has no aching pride<br />
Your death would poultice.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Pyrrha lives in Sparta.</span><br />
Howe'er I set my feet, love turned them here.<br />
Which way I bent some tingèd thought of thee<br />
Crept as a secret sun to every sense<br />
And made the hidden threads of being blush<br />
Like coral boughs when Aphrodite's foot<br />
Is on the wave.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Athenian, what canst hope<br />
From Stesilaus' daughter?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I ask naught.</span><br />
But had a gem of hers that hourly cried<br />
To clasp its mistress, and to bring it thus,<br />
With Death a looker-on, I thought might make<br />
The peasant service shine so sovranly<br />
That even her royal and offended eyes<br />
Might gently entertain it.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Deck the bark</span><br />
Of yon shag ilex and 'twill wear your trinket<br />
With the same grace and thanks.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Thy grace is hers</span><br />
Who walked unrobed from hands of the high gods<br />
Grown jealous of the beauty they had made.<br />
Not this, nor any jewel may adorn it,<br />
Though swartest pebbles might grow ruby proud,<br />
And rubies throb with breath to be so worn.<br />
And for thy thanks, I have not come this way<br />
To ask for them. Keep them for one so poor<br />
He lets his heart for hire.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">[<em>Puts locket slowly under his tunic</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">And yet my ears</span><br />
Fed on a sigh when I was hidden there.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Who is so strong as never to have sighed?<br />
That secret moment was my weakest too.<br />
I'm now a Spartan, and my father's name<br />
Is Stesilaus. You may know it, sir,<br />
Who wert of Athens, but whose country now<br />
Is so much ground as you may beg of foes,<br />
And that, Zeus help, they'll measure without grudge.<br />
You're not so tall your grave would scant a field,<br />
Or make a garden less.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Sounds of approach across bridge, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Does Fate come noisy-footed?</span><br />
I thought she crept, and loved the jungle-leap.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Hide, sir! I'll be as secret as these shrubs,<br />
And not reveal you sooner. With the night<br />
You may steal out of Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I'll go out winged</span><br />
With Spartan ships, and honor as a bride<br />
Shall sail with me!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Are you so mad? Then die!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> What! Must we wait? Where are these merry slips?</p>
<p><em>First Senator.</em> The woods are dancing yonder. By that sign<br />
They come.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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.</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> [<em>To Archippe</em>] Our Pyrrha does not dance. Why's that?</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> No why at all. I'll rate her. Sulky chuff!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Ay, you'll be on her heels!</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">The younger maids</span><br />
Are chosen. She'll be left. There's Hieron<br />
With eyes like begging moons which way she goes,<br />
But she draws off,—</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Well, well! She'll please herself.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> In Phania, I'd have had a daughter now——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> What, madam? Gabble here? Be done!</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> [<em>Among the young men</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">I thirst.</span><br />
[<em>To Biades</em>] Up, slave! Fill me a cup. Come, move, you drone!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Biades slowly rises and goes to spring under trees, rear</em>]</p>
<p><em>A Young Lord.</em> What Helot's that?</p>
<p><em>Another.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Some dog o' the farms. A staff</span><br />
On 's back might help his legs.</p>
<p><em>Another.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">I'll put mine to 't.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Biades lazily returns with cup. In handing it to Agis
he spills part of the contents</em>]</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> [<em>Emptying the cup in Biades' face</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;"> By Dis and Rhadamanthus! Sot! Whose man</span><br />
Is this?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> My own, you Spartan whelp!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">The dog!</span><br />
Tread him to earth! Down! down!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Springing from them and taking off his cap</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">What, Greeks? You'd kill</span><br />
A brother?</p>
<p><em>A Voice.</em> Biades!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">My friends——</span></p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Ha, ha! His friends!</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> What friending was 't you gave us on the day<br />
You drove us out of Athens? Hoot and club<br />
Then spoke how dear you loved us. We had not<br />
Brought off our lives if your desire had dared<br />
Blow full on Athens' heat.</p>
<p><em>Gir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Brought off our lives?</span><br />
Where's Heracordus? Stoned at Athens' gate,<br />
And dead upon the road.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nay, brothers——</span></p>
<p><em>Gir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">Ha!</span><br />
If you're a brother, weep beside his grave.<br />
I'll show it you.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">And all the graves where lie</span><br />
The dead we brought two bleeding years ago<br />
From Decalea's wall, where you gave entry<br />
Then broke the truce with charge!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">But hear, my lords——</span></p>
<p><em>Gir.</em> Come, wail beside them till they wake and ask<br />
What new calamity brews in your tears!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Lenon</em>]</p>
<p><em>Len.</em> Agis yet swoons. That root was edged with death.<br />
We fear he's gone.</p>
<p><em>Gir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;"> For this alone, Athenian,</span><br />
You should not live,—though all your else-wrought deeds<br />
Were mercy's pawn for you.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ye fathers, hear!</span><br />
If ye know Justice,—and the world has said<br />
Her lovers dwell in Sparta,—shall he cry<br />
To scorn-shut ears, whose injuries taking voice<br />
Should pass in thunder where your virtues sleep?<br />
Hear one whose wrongs have bruised him to your coast,<br />
And let it not be said that you from safe<br />
Unshaken rocks met suppliant hands with spears!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Ye noble elders, there's a sort of mercy<br />
On which dishonor feeds. As pasty, soft<br />
As butter in the sun, it chokes the sluice<br />
Of reason,—in marshy obliteration lays<br />
The marks and bounds of justice,—nauseous spreads<br />
Till mind is left no throne. Let it not come<br />
Where sit the guards of honor!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I grant you so.</span><br />
But what I ask is not thus natured, sir!<br />
Sages of Lacedæmon, there's a mercy<br />
That veins the very rock of Justice' seat.<br />
It is the agent of divinest mould<br />
In all the world. By it the mind grows fair<br />
With blossoms deity may gather. 'Tis<br />
As precious to the soul as south-lipped winds<br />
To the winter-aching earth. Go bare of it,<br />
Though ye know Virtue ye wear not her pearl.<br />
I beg my life that you in saving me<br />
May save the heavenliest favor given to men,<br />
Nor crush it out of Sparta, leaving her<br />
The scarred and barren terror gods forsake.</p>
<p><em>Second Ephor.</em> Shall hear his plea? He may have argument<br />
Of worthy note.</p>
<p><em>Second Senator.</em> 'Tis not our way to judge<br />
The dumb.</p>
<p><em>Third Ephor.</em> [<em>Very old, creakingly</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Why, if a lion, boar, or pard,</span><br />
Or any beast, should pause as we did burn<br />
In chase, and beg us hear his cause, I think<br />
Our ears would ope.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ay, and the earth too, sir,</span><br />
Bearing such wonder on it! Folly's self<br />
Would be too wise to listen to this man,<br />
Yet ye would hear him!</p>
<p><em>Fourth Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">More than would. We will.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> This clemency shows like yourselves,—the gem<br />
Of mind's adornment, as ye are the lustre<br />
Of Sparta's matchless race!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Now he is off.</span><br />
Will gallop with us to what ditch he choose.</p>
<p><em>First Senator.</em> Speak, Biades.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Of Agis then, my lords,—</span><br />
This newly raw offence,—be my first word.<br />
And I'll not stay for garnish. Truth is bare,<br />
And bravest so. Though 'twas my Helot guise<br />
Drew Agis' insult on me, think you, sirs,<br />
It fell upon a proud and free-born Greek,<br />
And who is here that could with putting on<br />
A slave's vile dress put on his nature too,<br />
Drain off his ancient, high nobility,<br />
And in one brutish instant lose the blood<br />
That made his fathers heroes? Is there one?</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> We grant you, none.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Your hearts then struck my blow,</span><br />
Therefore must pardon it. If Agis' death<br />
Falls from it, 'tis but accident that sleeps<br />
In every motion, and in mine awoke<br />
Untimely. Who, so shorn of wisdom, thinks<br />
That I, a suitor here for barest life,<br />
Meant him a vital stroke that would o'ercry<br />
My prayers and make a mock of suppliance?<br />
I'll mourn with you, my lords, but ask you wring<br />
The neck of Fate, and leave my head where 'tis<br />
To praise the just of Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Third Senator.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">So we might</span><br />
But for the heavier charges that engage<br />
The sighs of mercy 'gainst you ere they blow<br />
This deed a pardon. What of Decalea?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> That was a ruse the Spartans taught me, sir,<br />
When at Eleusis they ensnared my troops<br />
Within the gates, and naught passed out again<br />
Save rivers of their blood. If I must die<br />
For Decalea, die you with me, men,<br />
For red Eleusis.</p>
<p><em>Fourth Senator.</em> This is justice too.<br />
I saw Eleusis. He is clear on that.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> I warn you, senators! The fleetest wit<br />
That pauses on his guile is honey-mired<br />
And ne'er gets farther.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> We'll not keep his road<br />
An inch past justice, but we'll go so far.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> So you resolve, but Hecate at his smile<br />
Would plod beside him like a market lass,<br />
Forgetting vengeance.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Honored Stesilaus:——</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Honored? Ay, Biades! With gibe and jeer<br />
That shook the walls of Athens! By my staff,<br />
I'll——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Noble fathers, hear me for yourselves,<br />
Who, loved of Pallas, in this council sit<br />
Her earthly heirs and nature's demigods!<br />
This rage of Stesilaus is itself<br />
Sanction and seal for my adoption here,<br />
A son of Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Ha! Now he would drive</span><br />
The mares of Diomed!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My lords,——</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Prove this?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Why made you Stesilaus head and tongue<br />
Of envoy unto Athens? For you thought<br />
His mind, most apt, fluidic, politic,<br />
More quick than danger, would take shape of need,<br />
Repairing your defense fast as you found<br />
Your safety cramped. If I o'ercame him then<br />
With wit that watched with sleepless spear at door<br />
Of Athens' housèd trust, must you not crown in me<br />
The quality held sovereign in him?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> You hear, you elders,—must!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Ay, must,—and must!</span><br />
Or at the fontal spring of justice break<br />
Your cups and thirst. No alien dripple may<br />
Content you then.</p>
<p><em>First Senator.</em> We listen, Biades.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> When swords of an uneven temper meet,<br />
Who scorns the better proved? Nay, you do set<br />
Your love upon it,—in your armory<br />
Give it a burnished place. And I who crossed<br />
With Stesilaus, for my triumph ask<br />
To be of Sparta's armor.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Our dead shall answer!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> They shall. For every heart my steel made cold,<br />
Is proof how well I served my Athens,—proof<br />
Of loyal heat with which I'll serve the State<br />
That makes me hers! A true-bred Greek, outthrust<br />
And homeless, seeks a foster-land, that he<br />
May lift for her his sword, nor wasteful let<br />
The chiefest virtue in him die unused<br />
While his lost name no more climbs to the gods.</p>
<p><em>Second Senator.</em> Would you ally with us 'gainst Attica?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I'm yours for that. By th' mother of the sea,<br />
Her tears shall wash your feet!</p>
<p><em>Third Senator.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">What way wouldst take?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> The way to Phernes and the Persian fleet<br />
Now boastful before Rhodes. Grant me a convoy,<br />
I'll forge with Persia Lacedæmon's sword,<br />
And cut the crest from Athens.</p>
<p><em>Fourth Senator.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">We have failed</span><br />
With Phernes.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You'll not fail again. He's sworn<br />
My friend.</p>
<p><em>First Senator.</em> Our ships are few.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">But Corinth holds</span><br />
Her sea-wings spread for any need of yours.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Hear me, ye warriors! He will lead<br />
Our force afar, then stir up neighbor foes<br />
To scourge unarmored Sparta! Think that one,<br />
Cradled in silk and fed on nectared drops——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> There, sir, I'm bold to say you're off the road<br />
Of truth. My nurse was of your people, brought<br />
From sterner Sparta for my orphan rearing,<br />
By my good uncle Pelagon,—a man<br />
Ye know your friend. From her wise hands I took<br />
Your doughty-nurturing bread, and broth black-brewed,<br />
That drives the shade of fear from veins of men.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> I've bread now in my wallet. Let us see<br />
Your teeth in 't.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Takes out a piece of coarse, stale bread and offers it to Biades</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Pardon, sir! I do not hunger.</span><br />
A Helot shared with me.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">'Twill keep till you</span><br />
Would sup. But, you must try our broth, sir. Pulse<br />
Is seething yonder. Youths, bring here a bowl.<br />
We have a guest who'd call his childhood up<br />
In good black brew. Hark, Lenon!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">[<em>Whispers to Lenon, who goes off left</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Third Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is truth.</span><br />
Amycla was your nurse. I know the year<br />
That she was sent to Athens.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">On her lap</span><br />
I learned a love for Sparta that returned<br />
In warrior days to blunt my assaulting sword<br />
And wound me from your side. She taught me too<br />
The lyric wafture that dead hero-lips<br />
Send on undying,—songs your young men sing,<br />
And old men flush to hear,—and as a youth<br />
I longed to make my civil Athens street<br />
Echo to Sparta with a brother's call.</p>
<p><em>Third Ephor.</em> But I am moved.</p>
<p><em>Fourth Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And I.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Art grown so old</span><br />
You'll feed on pap again? Come, Biades,<br />
A song Amycla taught you! One will prove<br />
Your love remembers Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Sir, I'm not</span><br />
Your zany.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> But you'd make my country one,<br />
To antic for you.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Lenon with bowl of broth</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Here's your portion, sir.<br />
Amycla made no better. Will you drink?</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Gives bowl to Biades, who regards the black mixture
dubiously. All are silent, watching him. He looks at Pyrrha</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>To Pyrrha</em>] Is 't poison?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Stolid</em>] <span style="margin-left: 6em;">It may be.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>To Senators</em>] <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Your will's in this?</span></p>
<p><em>First Senator.</em> It is.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> If this be pledge that binds me yours,<br />
Fellow of board and field, I drink long life<br />
To our compact. But if death waits here,—to you,<br />
O comrade shades, and our good fellowship!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 13em;">[<em>Drinks. The Spartans applaud</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> You lean to him, and Sparta topples with you!</p>
<p><em>A Young Man.</em> [<em>Entering</em>] Agis is up! He comes!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">And bears no grudge</span><br />
For a good Greek blow. Says you could give no less.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Agis</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> High Zeus, I thank thee! Agis, thou dost live<br />
To take my pardon and to give me thine!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 18em;">[<em>They take hands</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> So soft?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Better than blows.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Ha! Like disease</span><br />
He'll spread the woman till our eyes drop tears<br />
Instead of fire. When Spartan eagles moult,<br />
They'll go no farther than Athenian owls.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> He's valiant.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">There's no braver tongue.</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">And friend</span><br />
To Phernes.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> So he says.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay, that's well known.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> My captain comrades, and ye aged fathers,<br />
If ye had seen him strut, a vanity<br />
As brainless as the monkey at his heels,<br />
With woman velvets making slut of wealth<br />
Trailing foul dust,—a peacock fan at 's cheek<br />
Where a soldier's beard should grow, and bangled ears<br />
Whose swinging jewels tickled a white neck<br />
Soft as a harlot's pillow,—this at time<br />
His city laid such honor on his head<br />
As would have kept a brave man on his knees<br />
For wisdom to uphold it,—had ye looked on this,<br />
Ye'd call the weakest maiden from her wheel<br />
To lead our wars ere trust to Biades!</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> A picture this,—shakes faith.</p>
<p><em>Second Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">We trust too far.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Sirs, had ye seen what I but paint——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">My lords,</span><br />
I'll wrestle with the stoutest Spartan youth<br />
That makes your wars most dreaded, and these limbs,<br />
Now shrunk with fasting, wasted and forsook<br />
By Fortune that once fed them as her own,<br />
Will prove my right to captain Sparta's host!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Our women could undo you, girl of Athens!<br />
Meet his bold brag with this. One of our maids<br />
Shall throw him! Ay! Then he'll betake his shame<br />
To any shade will hide it.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Sir, I sue</span><br />
To lay this boast.</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">My prayer be first, my lords!</span></p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> A lot! A lot!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Nay, sons, a fall from you</span><br />
Would give him hope to pick his honor up<br />
And steal again to favor. He will plead<br />
That you, full-fed, met him in famished hour,<br />
When Fate hung him with bruises leeching strength,<br />
And gave you victory. Let my offer hold.<br />
A maiden to him, and we'll hear no more<br />
Of valorous Biades.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> We are agreed.</p>
<p><em>Second Ephor.</em> Who is our strongest maid?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">We've six whose claims</span><br />
Push equal. All in public game have won<br />
The bow of Artemis.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> We'll choose from these.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Olympus, shower me woes! I will not cringe,<br />
So they be man's. But save me from a mock<br />
That makes misfortune past seem sweet as drops<br />
From Hera's healing cup!</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">A mock? The gods</span><br />
Have never honored you till now.</p>
<p><em>Myr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">See these,</span><br />
My bantling? Arms that made Kalides wear<br />
A three months' bruise!</p>
<p><em>The.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And these have locked the strength</span><br />
Of Lenon in defeat!</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Ask Mirador</span><br />
If he liked well the sandy bed I gave him.</p>
<p><em>Nac.</em> Bethink you now how you'll outcrow disgrace,<br />
For you'll be short of breath when you've gone through<br />
The brash I'll give you.</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Then he'll show his reefed</span><br />
And wattled skin, and say that want of bread<br />
O'ercame him, not our valor.</p>
<p><em>Art.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Look you, maids!</span><br />
His hollow eyes do beg some pity of us.<br />
We'll give him yet a chance, and mate him with<br />
Our lame Coraina. She's near well again.<br />
Will drop her crutch to be our champion.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Zeus,</span><br />
Behold me patient! Furies, though I lack<br />
Some vaunting flesh, the sharpest ill that on<br />
My body ravins feeds a spirit that<br />
Might meet with Heracles and give him need<br />
Of both his arms!</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> Ha! Better! Maids, his tongue<br />
Will fight yet!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Peace! The ephors choose</span><br />
That Dianessa bear this honor off.<br />
She threw strong Mirador, first of the youths,<br />
Which puts her o'er the rest.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">We've else determined</span><br />
That with the fall the Athenian forfeits life.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> And if I win, my lords? Since life must pay<br />
Defeat, should victory not solicit me<br />
With counterpoisèd prize?</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">We shall accept you</span><br />
Leader and comrade, and give escort fair<br />
To bear your suit to Phernes.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;"> More! The maid</span><br />
Shall be your bride, and bind you son and brother<br />
To Sparta's love.</p>
<p><em>Second Ephor.</em> You, Stesilaus, assent?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Since without risk you may pursue your folly,<br />
I'll not oppose you.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dianessa, you</span><br />
Abide our will?</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> And welcome it. 'Twill work<br />
Like Mars in me, and make my arm<br />
The gallows of his fame. The Athenian lady!<br />
I'd choose a husband among men.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And I,</span><br />
My generous, dear lords, would woo and win<br />
Some mute and humble maid. I would not force<br />
The noble Dianessa bend her head<br />
To one unworthied by a hostile Fate.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> Tut, sir! If Fortune's love returns with heat<br />
That makes you conqueror, by that same sun<br />
Her pride will melt, and you will find her meek<br />
As gosling in your hand.</p>
<p><em>Second Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">'Tis settled so.</span><br />
Wear what you win.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] Ye reverend men, and you,<br />
My noble father, may my suit reveal<br />
My love to Sparta and your love to me,<br />
Which has not spoken in this act of yours<br />
That overpeers me and gives up my due<br />
To Dianessa.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> Ha?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Though Mirador</span><br />
Was forced below her, never in a bout<br />
Has she ta'en honors from me, while I oft<br />
Have left her down.</p>
<p><em>Second Ephor.</em> Speak'st truly?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Hear herself</span><br />
Avouch it.</p>
<p><em>Dia.</em> Ay, you overmate me, but<br />
The gap between us will not cast the match<br />
To Biades. And I was chosen.</p>
<p><em>Fourth Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Nay,</span><br />
You must give place.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I've other reason, sir.</span><br />
It is my dear, war-honored father lays<br />
This match on Sparta, and my pride of house<br />
Would bear his counsel through the act that sets<br />
The sage's seal upon it.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">A daughter, sir!</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Bare duty might so speak.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;"> This gives me warmth</span><br />
My maiden comrades lack. By every vein<br />
My father gave me, his time-laurelled brow<br />
Shall never wear a garland less!</p>
<p><em>Second Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Well sworn!</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> And for I saw——</p>
<p><em>Third Ephor.</em> More reasons?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">—the rude shame</span><br />
The Athenian put upon the ambassadors,<br />
And mine own eyes bore him in lowest semblance,<br />
Demeaned from manhood, his dishonor wrapped<br />
In purple cost that left it yet more naked.<br />
I swear he shall not honored lead our wars!<br />
If our gray heroes fail us, we have dames<br />
To choose from,—need not go to Athens!</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> This speaks! The victory's won where courage makes<br />
Such stout provision.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">If I fail, my lords,</span><br />
Then gods are mongers and their favors sell,<br />
Denying honest prayers.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Come, Biades.</span><br />
Art ready?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ay, long past!</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Your places then.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Delay you! Biades, with modesty<br />
Unlooked for, but most fit, you gave up claim<br />
To Dianessa.——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Nay, 'twas but an offer<br />
Whose bounty met refusal.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">I'll accept it</span><br />
In Pyrrha's name.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">So prudent against loss?</span><br />
This caution, sir, gives me a victor's heart.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Triumph is hers a certain thousand times,<br />
And yours a dicer's once, slipped you between<br />
Hiccough and snore of gods at shutting time.<br />
But since that once will have a thousandth chance<br />
To trouble me, I'll grant you free of Pyrrha.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Wait till 'tis begged. Lysander spoke with kind<br />
And equal honor, which did soften me<br />
To leave his daughter his. And others here<br />
Have tendered me the gentle looks that breed<br />
The answering benison till hearts of earth<br />
Feel heaven's element. But you, whose hate<br />
Should hiss from crawling shape, not upright man's,<br />
Wake fires in me that eat through godly patience<br />
And sweep to battle. I'll endure no further.<br />
Back with your taunts! And if 'twill make you sore<br />
Where pride is daintiest, I'll your daughter wed<br />
Because she is your daughter!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Bark, you puppy,</span><br />
But you'll not carry it!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Were she featured foul</span><br />
As snaked Medusa,—her brow a hanging night,—<br />
Her figure hooped as age when chin and toes<br />
Are neighbors,—and of speech so scaly, harsh<br />
As Stesilaus,—I, with no more color<br />
Or shade of reason than that you deny me,<br />
Would make her bride. The ephors gave their word,<br />
And what I win I'll wear!</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">We'll see you do.</span><br />
Content you, Stesilaus. None will weep<br />
To know your bluff soul matched. To place! To place!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They wrestle. Pyrrha loses. Silence, then applause for Biades</em>]</p>
<p><em>A Lord.</em> My heart upheld him, for I know him brave.</p>
<p><em>Another.</em> I saw his dripping sword on Theban plain<br />
Cut through the knotted fray and make two fields<br />
O' the combat.</p>
<p><em>Another.</em> He can pray too, Delphi knows!</p>
<p><em>Another.</em> But when his gallant prayers their action find<br />
The gods themselves rage in them.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> [<em>To Pyrrha</em>] Daughter, take<br />
Fair thanks from us for brave support of Sparta,<br />
And having lost, more thanks for giving her<br />
Another soldier. Has defeat made soft<br />
Your heart for swift espousal?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Let me woo</span><br />
In slower way, good father. Tho' my boast<br />
Rose high 'gainst Stesilaus' scorn, I'm not<br />
Of heart so rash that I would lose her love<br />
By taking it. With Sparta's aid now mine,<br />
I'll ask her choose a noble guard and sail<br />
With me, that I, by time and fortune graced,<br />
May win a double suit, herself and Persia.</p>
<p><em>First Ephor.</em> We'll think of it. Our plans are still unthreshed.<br />
Come with us, Biades.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Ephors, with senators and Biades, lead the way over
bridge. All follow except Stesilaus and Pyrrha</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">How was 't he won?</span><br />
And he was livid famine! Scurfed with weeks<br />
Of beggary! While you—such arms had saved<br />
Antiope from Theseus!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">[<em>Pyrrha droops silent</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">Up, my daughter!</span><br />
We'll make this fall our hope. You shall take sail<br />
With Biades——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Gods hear me, no!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You will.</span><br />
I know his aim. He will betray our force<br />
To Athens,—pardon's price. Athenian ease<br />
Is in his marrow like a siren sleep,<br />
And all this hardy show is but to buy<br />
His languors back. You'll watch within his ship,<br />
With Hieron a second secret eye,<br />
And when his treachery ripens, take command<br />
And bring him bound to Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Be so near?</span><br />
Sail in his ship?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Be near him as a wife.</span><br />
Watch close. Lie in his thoughts, though not his bed.<br />
And if he presses to the shrine of favor,<br />
Here is my dagger. This will be your guard.<br />
Let him meet death upon it,—and that death<br />
Be honor's sanctuary. Come! My brow<br />
Must smooth submissive to the senators.<br />
Clear too your face with summer policy.<br />
Thus openly we'll hide. The State's turned fool,<br />
And naught between her and perdition save<br />
An old man and a girl! [<em>Exit</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Gazing at dagger</em>] If this cold blade<br />
Were seeking traitors 't might look in my heart.</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT IV</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">God of the bold who ride</span>
<span class="i2">With song o'er their dead</span>
<span class="i0">Whose unsown graves wait wide,</span>
<span class="i2">The singers' bed,—</span>
<span class="i0">Poseidon, befriend, befriend,</span>
<span class="i0">And the good wind send!</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">The sirens are on their rocks;</span>
<span class="i2">Like a piercèd moon</span>
<span class="i0">Weeping her gold, their locks</span>
<span class="i2">To the waters run.</span>
<span class="i0">Poseidon, befriend, befriend,</span>
<span class="i0">And the good wind send!</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Fleet are the foam-toothed hounds</span>
<span class="i2">That hunt unfed,</span>
<span class="i0">With hunger that aches like wounds,</span>
<span class="i2">And ships their bread.</span>
<span class="i0">Poseidon, befriend, befriend,</span>
<span class="i0">And the good wind send!</span>
</div></div>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Lysander</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Lysander! You? Is 't battle?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">At dawn we move</span><br />
Upon the Athenian ships.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">They've come from harbor?</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Nay, lurking still, fear-cabled to the land,<br />
Like weanlings round a skirt.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">At last a battle!</span><br />
And Biades is true. The watch is done.<br />
I'm sick of spying, hanging on him like<br />
A doubt with teeth. He leaves this galley then?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Commands from the <em>Ino</em>, now so brave repaired<br />
She sits her place as though the sea and air<br />
Debated who should claim her, and she no more<br />
Adorns both elements than herself's adorned<br />
By our young admiral.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He is gone? So soon?</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Went, but is here again, and here must stay<br />
These next three hours or more.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Why so, Lysander?</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> We sacrifice aboard Thrasyllus' ship,<br />
Where now the captains gather, and the hand<br />
Of one who leads the foe to his fathers' hearth<br />
Would cloud the omen. He must keep apart.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> You've told him that?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">We have not dared.</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">Not dared?</span><br />
Way, Spartan lions, for the Athenian puppy!</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> He's tender with his honor.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">His honor!</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Soft!</span><br />
We shunt all danger if you mew him here<br />
Unwitting of our hand.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I do not wear</span><br />
Athene's ægis on my jerkin, friend.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> You can divinely drug his vanity<br />
Without immortal aid. Attach him by 't,<br />
For free he'll chafe. Drift with him in such wise<br />
He'll not suspect our rudder.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Ay, more lies.</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Truth is no absolute virtue. 'Tis a vice<br />
If 't takes a screw from safety.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">There is law</span><br />
Higher than Sparta utters. If not so,<br />
What mean our altars, and a kneeling world?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Hmm! I delay the sacrifice. Dost know<br />
I take my Dianessa? A virgin's hand<br />
Must weave the victim's garland.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ah, the moon</span><br />
Of Artemis! A virgin's hand. They ask<br />
Not mine?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> You are a bride in Sparta's eyes.<br />
Would Truth might speak it too! For Biades<br />
Has won all love but yours.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'll wed no traitor.</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> What? He is false?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Ay, false to Athens.</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">Phut!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Hieron</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> How like you this, sir? Biades has stripped<br />
The galley of its rowers,—sent them all<br />
To his gilded <em>Ino</em>,—every boat in charter<br />
To bear his trappings,—parchments, maps, and gifts<br />
From Phernes,—curtains, instruments——</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">The stuff</span><br />
Goes with the admiral, and what other way<br />
Than by the boats? Say naught of 't.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">This a time</span><br />
To spend a feathering!</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Nay——</span></p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And why send all?</span><br />
A half—a third—had answered. There's not left<br />
An oarsman on the galley save the men<br />
Who brought you from the <em>Thetis</em>.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">You've the guard,—</span><br />
Yourself its head. Give Biades his way<br />
When prudence pays no cost. We've hedged and hemmed<br />
His wrestling will until his pride is brashed<br />
To the rebel quick——</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Sst! He is here.</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Biades stands in door</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Lysander,</span><br />
They hail you from Thrasyllus' ship. You stay<br />
The rites.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> [<em>Troubled</em>] But is it time——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Full time.</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">My boat——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Is waiting.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I—you, sir——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">You'll bear my grace</span><br />
To our priestly captains?</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">You stay here?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">I shall,</span><br />
If you'll not press me other. As you pray<br />
For clearer omen and a morning battle,<br />
Let only those whose land holds them untainted<br />
Stand in the holy ring.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Above our prayers</span><br />
This act will speak to Heaven in Sparta's name<br />
And make her gods your own.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">If that might be,</span><br />
Lysander! To have no altars is a fate<br />
Man can not bear for long.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">The rowers, sir!</span><br />
How soon do they return?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">They've leave to see</span><br />
The midnight toward with their fellow crew<br />
On the <em>Ino</em>.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Midnight!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Loyal beggars, all.</span><br />
They're sad to lose their captain, and I pay<br />
Their grieving flattery with this stinted lease<br />
From duty here. They'll use 't in prayerful rite——</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> Not prayer! The casks will drip too free for that.<br />
If any prayers come from the heart to throat,<br />
They'll downward wash again, not out and fly.<br />
Say'st midnight, sir?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I do. They will return</span><br />
In time to set the galley from the cast<br />
Of morning danger.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Move again? The ship</span><br />
Is now to rearward, by some rods.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">She is.</span><br />
And shall go farther. Here's no fighting deck.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> Ay, these soft cabins, Corinth-modelled as<br />
A prince, would make a floating holiday,<br />
Put soldiers from their place.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">The ship must lie</span><br />
Full east, on th' safest wave. We've treasure 'neath<br />
These sails that make their weathered woof more dear<br />
Than threaded gold of Hera's mantle.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">Ah,</span><br />
You mean the women.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">No,—a woman. Come,</span><br />
Lysander.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Sir, what time wilt take your place<br />
Aboard the <em>Ino</em>?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Give me till the midnight,</span><br />
I'll from that moment be your admiral.<br />
But for these gentle hours that lie between,<br />
I would as merest man use their light wings<br />
To chase a hope through heaven.</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> [<em>With a glance at Pyrrha</em>] And bring it down,<br />
My lord!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exeunt Lysander, Biades, and Hieron</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Now, Impudence, no more's to do!<br />
Go up and take thy crown. Before my eyes<br />
He teaches them he wooes me, and my pride<br />
Mutely abets his guile. [<em>Holds up the dagger</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">My fine defence,</span><br />
Thou'rt warder to a bosom unbesieged.<br />
In Biades' contempt I have a guard<br />
That saves thine office. Go, you glittering mock!<br />
[<em>In a passion of resolution she throws the dagger through
the door</em>]<br />
That's done. No matter. He does not look at me,<br />
Or looks as though his eyes begged pardon of him,<br />
For their chance stop on nothing.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Biades, the dagger in his hand</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Here's a toy</span><br />
Caught from the rigging. Yours, I think.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 13em;">[<em>Offers it to her. She does not take it</em>]</span><br />
It must be dear. I've seen you fondle it.<br />
Is it not yours?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">It was.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Then is. And worth</span><br />
Your keeping. A good blade, though Spartan plain.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> I'm weary of it. In Athens I shall find<br />
Another pattern.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Testing blade</em>] Fine and strong. Will wear<br />
A hundred years, then make a door for death.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">[<em>Turns it against his heart. She starts</em>]</span><br />
You'll take it, Pyrrha. To throw it to the sea<br />
Were waste for an Athenian.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Keep it then.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You give this blade to me?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">I care not. Keep</span><br />
What you have praised.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Pressing it against his cheek</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">A gentle weapon,—but</span><br />
I've somewhat 'gainst it.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Goes to door and throws it far into the sea</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Kiss the waves, my friend!</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 12em;">[<em>Returns to Pyrrha and sits by her</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Softly</em>] I leave the ship to-night.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Uneasy</em>] <span style="margin-left: 8em;">And time you led</span><br />
The fleet to battle. You've excused delay<br />
Till palling breath became the shroud of action,<br />
And yet refused it funeral.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I know</span><br />
How you have doubted. O, this soul of Sparta,<br />
That can not trust! It peeps from every eye,<br />
Deepest where kindest. Tags each friendly word<br />
With its unspoken dread,—and comradeship,<br />
That strives to wrap it in a gala cloak,<br />
Strains vainly round the huge, dun doubt, agape<br />
In dreary revelation.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You are free</span><br />
To leave us.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Free? Five Spartan nobles watch<br />
Beside me, move with every step, for so<br />
The admiral must be honored! Hieron<br />
Foregoes his place at sacrifice to serve<br />
My dignity. Not for his gods he'll put<br />
A furlong 'tween us.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He's the ship's good eye.</span><br />
And all the men except the lords of guard<br />
Are, by your grace, a-neighboring. Would you leave<br />
The galley without watch?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">No, Pyrrha, sweet.</span><br />
But I would woo you with no ear at the door.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] My lord!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Indifferent</em>] Nay, then. I can't oppose the sex<br />
Of Aphrodite. My one frailty.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">One!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> What? I have more?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">The moments of your life</span><br />
Are not so many!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Gods be thanked, I'm young!</span><br />
How may I change to please a Spartan scold?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Be anything you're not.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">You have not heard</span><br />
I am the admiral of the Spartan fleet,<br />
With Persian Phernes yonder at my beck,<br />
Broad-winged with all Phoenicia? You know not<br />
I am a general?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;"> Oh, to be that name,</span><br />
Not make 't thy bauble! What dost know<br />
Of secret, sleepless hours, and delving thought<br />
That nations may lie safe? By what grave right<br />
Wear you the title? What deep sacrifice?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Leave sacrifice to fools and women! Ay,<br />
More lies are huddled in that saintly word<br />
Than ever smirked outside it. The strong soul<br />
Low bowing there, lies to his god,—the weak<br />
Lies to the world behind a holy shield<br />
That turns the spear of justice. Pallas, hear!<br />
A general makes himself a master, lest<br />
The State make him a servant.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">True in <em>Athens</em>!</span><br />
But you've another name. I've heard you called<br />
The young philosopher. Play you at that.<br />
'Twill tire naught but the tongue. Yours will go far.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Nay, spare me toil of spirit searching through<br />
Earth, sea, and sky for phrases magical<br />
To wrap creation in, as 'twere a babe<br />
Each man might call his own could he but find<br />
Some good-wife fancy to deliver it.<br />
No other hope?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;"> They name you poet, too.</span><br />
Build round your spirit an Elysian cheat<br />
And buzz it through upon a golden wing.<br />
Is that not idle enough?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You touch me now</span><br />
With flattery's gold point. I wince and love<br />
The pain. Yet I'd not be a frolic breath<br />
At play with Spring and florets in the dew,<br />
Or move in rhymèd courtesies before<br />
The smile or frown of gods. Trick my dear soul<br />
In May-day rags to catch a languid eye.<br />
Babble of moods and minds, how some think this,<br />
Some that, and some have never thought. Drone how<br />
On such a day one struck another down,<br />
Or led a fleet, or laid a city wall.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> What would you sing then, pray?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">I would not sing.</span><br />
Was there not poetry before men spake?<br />
I'd go behind the broidered veil we've wrought<br />
Before the face of one that we loved much<br />
And then forgot for beauty of the shroud.<br />
The old lere's lost, the new but irks our dream.<br />
We listen to ourselves, while round us ever<br />
Are worlds that vainly pluck us to their doors,<br />
Giving us sign in lightning, heat, and wave,<br />
In flake of snow, flint-spark, and crystal rock,<br />
In stones that make the iron creep, and color,<br />
Fair flag and challenge to our shuttered minds.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Moving nearer</em>] Oh!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Seeming to forget her</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Round our lives is life whose destiny</span><br />
Is that frontier no word of ours has crossed,<br />
But man to come shall plant and harvest there,<br />
Where his soul sets the plough.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Softly</em>] You know that too?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> That life shall warm his barest common way<br />
Of in and out. In field and market-place,<br />
He'll lay his cheek 'gainst its unbodied love<br />
And flush translations of its silent touch.<br />
Then will be poets! Thought that now must fail<br />
In bird-wing flight, shall from a violet's eye<br />
O'erlook the sun. Till then I will not sing.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Not fight, philosophize, or sing!<br />
What's left for an Athenian?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Remembering her</em>] Love, fair Pyrrha!<br />
You know the tale how Chaos once uncurled<br />
Her laboring bulk from round a fire-leafed rose<br />
And sent its petals drifting down to fields<br />
Where mortals foot with chance? Whoso they touch<br />
Are lovers always, and one came to me.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Now here's ambition! And you live for that?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ay there's the charm contents me with dull earth,<br />
And puts a rainbow in my listless hand.<br />
The way is pleasant if the road be love's,<br />
And I'd not shorten it by one maid's eye.<br />
To be a lover,—that's the graceful thing.<br />
Then one moves velvetly, forgets no curve,<br />
And lives his picture, line and color true.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> That rôle's struck from your play, you'll find, my lord.<br />
Maidens will smile, but scorn will set the lip,<br />
And women's eyes be warm, but hate their fire<br />
For you, the traitor.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Traitor?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>In the door</em>] See the gleam<br />
On Athens, yours no more. The softest breast<br />
Within her walls is steel when you are named.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> But there are maids in Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Not for you,</span><br />
A traitor to the soil that gave you life.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> That soil first cast me off.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">A mother strikes</span><br />
Her child, but should the child return the blow<br />
Gods would droop eyes and blush.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">But were I true</span><br />
To my own land, I should be false to yours.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> A virtue that. A maid might love you then.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> A Spartan maid?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">A Spartan maid. But now</span><br />
We hold you as no more than loathèd bait<br />
To capture Athens. Used as a stuck fly<br />
To hook a chub!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Hieron</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> What saucy fury sports<br />
With Hieron? His even smile's unfixed<br />
As the middle of two minds.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Sir, Phernes sends</span><br />
Six maidens from his ship to dance before you.<br />
The noble Persian chooses time most fit<br />
For wantoning,—the hour of sacrifice<br />
And battle prayer.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You're justly kindled. What<br />
Though it be royal custom in his East,—<br />
A grace from king to king,—to garnish danger<br />
With frillet of relief that makes death seem<br />
The last-dropped toy, we'll dare to let him know<br />
That we are Greeks, and walk the edge of graves<br />
With eyes upon the gods. Go, pack them off!</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> Why,—so I meant. The act struck rudely on<br />
Our ritual hour. But if his Eastern mind<br />
Paints it a courtesy——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">A sovereign honor.</span></p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> He is of haughty blood,—burns at rebuff——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ay, like a hornet blind. A thousand times<br />
I've eased his fret and run his humor's mould<br />
Like summer wax, lest he should break from Sparta<br />
That stood in rigid ruin. Now I leave it!<br />
His anger can be put to gentlest sleep,<br />
But 'tis no babe when stirred. Choose as you will.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> The honor is to you. Be yours the answer.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I'm worn with him. Three hours to-day I played<br />
His vanity, while chance touched either side,<br />
Waiting the word that should cut through suspense<br />
And seal him ours for battle.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">To huff his pride</span><br />
'Tween this and dawn would poorly soothe our own<br />
At an uncertain cost. But let him leer<br />
I' the oracles' face....</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">He has not sent Alissa?</span></p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> There's one so calls herself. Spoke out the name<br />
As we should fall before it.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">She's most free</span><br />
In Phernes' heart. Knows all the honey-ways<br />
To his secret soul, and what is said to her<br />
He'll hear ere morn. As you love victory,<br />
I hope you met her gently.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">If surprise</span><br />
Made greeting harsh, I will undo that harm<br />
With softer welcome. And beseech you, sir,<br />
To suffer this mistimed civility<br />
For Sparta's sake.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">I will, dear Hieron,</span><br />
Since 'tis your suit.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Thanks, thanks, my lord.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Let them come in. I'll see their briefest dance,<br />
And give Alissa one commending word,<br />
Which straight as faithful bee she'll hive<br />
In Phernes' ear.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Exit Hieron</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">What think you of it, Pyrrha?</span><br />
You do approve me?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Approve your wits, my friend.<br />
Had they been Spartan trained, you'd bring them off,<br />
Untarnished still, from argument with Zeus.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> When Pallas praises, bow.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Poor Hieron</span><br />
Is now the sweating agent of your will<br />
To see these callets dance.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Unpitiful!</span><br />
I'd touch my lips to Lethe, and you'd snatch<br />
The oblivious drop from me! You know how dear<br />
The bond that shall be cut with sword of dawn,—<br />
So close no seer may tell which shall bleed most,<br />
Athens or her lost son.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Art low at last?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Dun, dun, my Pyrrha, as a Barbary pigeon!<br />
So low not all my pride can vaunt me up.<br />
Then let me have my wine,—the draught of eyes,<br />
Of music and of smiles, till I be drunk<br />
And sleep.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter six Athenian youths, led by Clearchus, all disguised
as Persian dancers. As they dance before Biades
his pleasure quickens to abandonment</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ah, Pyrrha, you've denied my heart<br />
All noble love, but here's a pleasure left.<br />
Soft eyes and gentle bosoms may be mine<br />
Where scorn is taught to sleep and never sting.<br />
... That is Alissa. We must honor her.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Now! Quick! In name of Zeus! The senators<br />
Received my message?</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> [<em>Darting to Biades</em>] Ay, the answer's here!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<em>Gives him a parchment</em>]</span><br />
Full pardon! Athens will lay down her walls<br />
To make your entry proud! Her gates are small,<br />
For honor she intends you!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Glances at parchment and sobs</em>]<br />
My Athens! Mine! Though she should take my life,<br />
And my bruised body fling unburied forth,<br />
Yet would my shade drop kisses on her soil<br />
And weep to leave it for Elysium! [<em>With sudden control</em>]<br />
What of my plan?</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Adopted, in each item.</span><br />
Soon as the dropping moon is in the sea,<br />
The Athenian rowers, coming as your own,<br />
Will board this galley and bear her a bird<br />
To th' harbor nest.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">They've force to meet the guards?</span></p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> Thrice measured, sir. The <em>Theia</em>——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">My own ship!</span></p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> Your own—will meet you, every sailor true<br />
As when he wept your banishment. And Phaon,<br />
Critias, Pelagon, Antiganor,<br />
With twenty senators and men of name,<br />
Wait on her deck in welcome.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Back, ye tears!</span><br />
The rowers know my signal?</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Yes, my lord.</span><br />
Three cressets on the left,—set here in this<br />
Embrasure. They will watch, near as they dare,<br />
And instantly as darts your triple gleam<br />
Their oars will sweep you answer.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>A commotion without</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Hist! What's wrong?</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter Hieron and Pyrrha. Hieron goes to Clearchus and
tears off his veil and head-dress</em>]</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> O, pardon! I'll confess!</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">'Tis you, my lord,</span><br />
I now unmask, not this bought wretch.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">What, sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> Your Persian dancers are Athenian boys,<br />
All slim as lizards. We o'er-eyed their steps,<br />
And on suspicion gave them such a pinch<br />
The truth flew out.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Their guilt does not prove mine.</span><br />
Is it my crime that Athens touched me near<br />
With bribe of pardon?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Hear the boy. You are<br />
Clearchus? And of Athens?</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I am.</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You brought</span><br />
His pardon. Did he welcome it?</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">He did.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> He lies! The coward lies!</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">He did agree</span><br />
That Phernes should draw off his fleet and join<br />
With Athens.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Oh! Where are the Olympian thunders<br />
That they now let you live?</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Draw off his fleet</span><br />
To-night?</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> Ere dawn.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">That such an atom—such</span><br />
A trifle of a body could enclose<br />
So great a lie!</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> The Persian is at watch,<br />
Waiting the signal——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Toad!</span></p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">If pardon came,</span><br />
Two cressets set——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'll shred him!</span></p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">At the left——</span><br />
Just here, my lord, would start the Persian ships<br />
For Athens.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Oh!</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">But if three cressets burnt,</span><br />
Then he would hold to Sparta.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Three?</span></p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Three, sir.</span><br />
Look in his bosom if you'd read the proof.<br />
His pardon's there.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> By the altars I have lost,<br />
By Sparta's yet unwon, I swear he lies!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Pyrrha snatches the parchment from his bosom</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You bat—you mole—you cur-born flea——</p>
<p><em>Clea.</em> [<em>To Hieron</em>] <span style="margin-left: 12em;">O, sir,</span><br />
Your mercy! Save me from him!</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Wait without.</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Full pardon! Bring the irons! We are sold!<br />
Irons for Biades!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Accepting defeat</em>] Ay, let me wear<br />
My honor's livery. Every foe-locked gyve<br />
Will be my country's kiss, and make my blood<br />
Flow proud beneath it. Irons! Load me down,<br />
Now that you know me man, and not the thrall<br />
Of vilest fear that buys suspected breath<br />
With a mother-city's doom.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'll grant you, sir,</span><br />
That by this act you do no longer lie<br />
In the unconsidered trash of estimation,<br />
But have crept up in my surprisèd mind<br />
To where I keep my jewels of regard.<br />
That is soon said,—but for the rest, you die.<br />
And more than die, for we shall hurl your name<br />
A palsy over Athens.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You'll not fight</span><br />
Athens and Persia!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Persia is not lost.</span><br />
Your signal is unlit.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But we'll light ours!</span><br />
Three cressets——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Stopping him</em>] Wait! The event's too great<br />
To helve with such slight word. That snivelling blab<br />
May've lied, or crossed the signals, for the young<br />
Are easiest dyed in craft, and take its hue<br />
As natively as innocence doth wear<br />
Its smile in sleep.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> What then?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You'll go to Phernes.</span></p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> There are no boats.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Tut, take the boats that brought</span><br />
Those purfled cymlings here. Their rowers too.<br />
Ah, Biades, you'll serve us still. And thought<br />
To trap all Sparta with this tip-toe bait!<br />
We have a saying. "Wit against the world,—"<br />
And there's another too, "The last lie wins."<br />
Hast heard it, Biades? We'll bear your word<br />
To Phernes that with dawn you move with him<br />
Upon the Athenian sails.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">He'll hear no word</span><br />
From Spartan mouth. So 'twas agreed between us,<br />
To annul such move as this if chance should strip<br />
My bent of cover. I alone may reach<br />
His ear with Sparta's prayer.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">We'll cast for proof</span><br />
Of that. If true, we shall remember, sir,<br />
That Sparta has won cities with no aid<br />
From Persia.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You'll not go alone to meet<br />
The strength of Athens?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Your far-wingèd name</span><br />
And sea-born battle-skill shall go with us.<br />
Your single arm's no loss, but in your fame,<br />
Yet ours to use, the Spartan strength<br />
Is doubled. Ha! They call us landmen,—say<br />
We must have feet on ground ere we can fight.<br />
But you they fear, bred to the wave, and first<br />
Of their commanders.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Let me die, but leave</span><br />
My name unmurdered.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">It shall be outflung</span><br />
In challenge to the Athenians. They know well<br />
The sailor rabble loves you, and will oppose<br />
But half a heart to Biades. Some too,<br />
Of higher place, believe you wronged, and fear<br />
The angered gods will station on your side.<br />
By spearman Ares, you shall keep the oath<br />
Great-sworn on Sparta's ground, to set her lance<br />
Through Athens' triple shield! Ay, though you lie<br />
In irons waiting death.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">The sunken souls</span><br />
Of deepest, damnèd Dis have never borne<br />
So vile a sting! You can not mean it, Pyrrha.<br />
Cast on my soul what Pluto would disbar<br />
From his fire-vaulted hell? I'll proudly die<br />
For treachery to you, but clear my name<br />
To Athens. Take not life and honor too!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> One you may save,—your life.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">What do you say?</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Draw Phernes back to us, and you shall live.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You offer me but death, knowing I could not live<br />
A traitor.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> You choose to die as one?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Oh, Zeus,</span><br />
All-giver, hear!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">What gain is death to you</span><br />
If reputation dies eternally<br />
In Athens' hate? Sparta will do as much<br />
As spare your life.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay——</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">She shall nothing know</span><br />
Of this hour's lapse——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">O, bitter stars! O, Death</span><br />
Past fatal!—reaching o'er thy charnel bound<br />
To usurp the immortal garden! Die a traitor!<br />
Never will dew from a forgiving eye<br />
Fall on my grave!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Nor will the upbraiding gaze<br />
Of Heaven be more tender. For you chose<br />
To risk your country's life on turn of chance,<br />
Having no surety that drawn to danger<br />
You then could pluck her out. Ah, made her fate<br />
Your stake at dice, because, escaped the hazard,<br />
You'd toss with her to fortune! And your guilt<br />
Is heavy in her fall as though your hand<br />
Bore down her last defence and fierce untrussed<br />
Her heart to th' wolvish air.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Oh, Pyrrha, Pyrrha!</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Then why haste on to death? The noblest shades<br />
Will make no room for you where'er they walk.<br />
Why rush through the first gate to meet their cold<br />
Immortal scorn?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But life with honor gone!</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> If death could buy it, then 'twere wise<br />
To buy so goldenly. But that's too late.<br />
Choose life,—with honor such as Sparta lays<br />
On those who serve but her. This treachery<br />
That we've by hap unbagged in 'ts eanling hour<br />
Shall be safe snugged again. And cherished too!<br />
For in my eyes it is the one brave flower<br />
Of your most barren being. None shall know it,<br />
And Sparta, as she will, may laurels weave<br />
About your faith.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> But Hieron?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>To Hieron</em>] You'll swear with me? [<em>He hesitates</em>]<br />
In Sparta's name? [<em>Takes his hand</em>] And mine?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">No, no!</span></p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> I'll swear.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Oh, not that price! No, till the end</span><br />
O' the world!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Life, Biades, life!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I will not do it!</span><br />
Athens may singly conquer!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Then you die</span><br />
By Sparta's hand, and Athens holds your name<br />
Accursed through time. The irons, Hieron.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Biades hunches despairingly, his face hidden</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Apart</em>] Gods! He will yield!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Looking up</em>] I'll do it,—dare to live,—<br />
And Attica may call me what she will.<br />
A traitor breathes, and feels the blessed sun.<br />
He's ne'er so poor but can his housing find<br />
In alms-lapped Nature. Her unchoosing airs<br />
Ask not his name before they touch his brow<br />
And tell him when 'tis spring. He yet may dream<br />
In unrebuking shades, and birds will sing<br />
As liquidly as though he were not by.<br />
Food is yet food, and wine is ever wine.<br />
I will not die. [<em>Rises</em>] By Maia's son, I'll live!<br />
What is my country but the bit of earth<br />
Where chance did spawn me? 'Tis no treachery.<br />
We're traitors unto love, not hate,—to trust,<br />
Not doubt and slander such as Athens poured<br />
Upon me guiltless.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Crossing to him</em>] So you've found a way<br />
To save both life and honor!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">May a worm</span><br />
Not creep to cleaner dust? Pyrrha, be kind.<br />
Spare me the trampling foot.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We've lost an hour.</span><br />
You'll send to Phernes?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">First we'll signal him.</span><br />
He may be setting off. We must despatch,<br />
For if he saw no sign he meant to draw<br />
His fleet from doubtful waters and give aid<br />
To neither side. [<em>Taking up a light</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Three cressets—that was true.</span><br />
When once these lights have spoken, he'll receive<br />
Your envoy as myself. Then Hieron<br />
May bear confirming word to him, and bring<br />
Assurance back.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> [<em>To Pyrrha</em>] You do not doubt?</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Doubt now?</span><br />
Nay, Hieron. I'll trust him with his <em>life</em>.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> But——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Trembling</em>] O, ye gazing gods, must it be done?<br />
In Athens' living heart set up the torch<br />
That leaves her a charred blotch where she lay white<br />
'Neath heaven and smiled up to sister stars!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Come, Biades!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Shall not the earth be lost</span><br />
To God's own eye when Athens, quenched, no more<br />
Marks where we wander? I can not do it!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Taking the cresset</em>] Too late,<br />
My lord!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Fixes light in the open embrasure, then places two others.
Biades falls back, mantling his face</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> To Phernes now! We must not boggle this!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> If you've a doubt, sir, look on that. [<em>Points to Biades</em>]</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> I'll hasten back to you.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">But note our light.</span><br />
The galley rowers may return ere you,<br />
And move us to the east.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I shall not lose you.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> What escort will you take? A noble one<br />
Will best please Phernes.</p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Mirador and Agis</span><br />
Shall go with me. Meanthes shall remain<br />
To be your watch.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You'll tell them nothing?</span></p>
<p><em>Hie.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Sir,</span><br />
I've sworn. I shall say naught but this. That Athens<br />
Proffered you pardon, and you hold to Sparta.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Turning</em>] You can do that? And I—I held my heart<br />
At halt, there at the door, nor turned my head<br />
Lest pity should emburn my eyes to tears. [<em>Crosses to him</em>]<br />
Dost know that all the juniper in the world,<br />
Burnt in thy house of honor, would not cleanse<br />
Its doors of stench? [<em>Throws the harp aside</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And you can use that air</span><br />
For breath of song!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Those are the bitterest words<br />
That ever dropped me gall, but I can find<br />
A crushèd balsam in them,—for they say<br />
You might have loved me, Pyrrha.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I might.</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">You did.</span><br />
The moment that I cast my Spartan mask<br />
And showed me true to Athens, you were mine.<br />
That instant there was joy-fall on your heart<br />
That swept its icy sentinels with fire,<br />
And they were down. Oh, had I then proved staunch,<br />
Ta'en helmet off to death and bade him strike,<br />
You would have closed my eyes with kisses warm<br />
As rose-drift on a tomb——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nay, I'd have kept</span><br />
Those eyes to be my light on earth, not star<br />
Elysian skies. Had fought for you against<br />
My mother Sparta. Fought as woman fights<br />
For her one love,—with wit and armèd tongue,<br />
And cunning that throws puzzle on the gods.<br />
Fought till subduèd Death had knelt to Fate<br />
And prayed your life for me!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Have I lost that?</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> You yielded—sank—unlustred even your soul<br />
For a poor pinch of time——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">But if some touch</span><br />
Of heaven could make me true again——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Look on</span><br />
Those lights, that you with single breath could turn<br />
To weeping smoke,—they've lit a quenchless wreck<br />
That all your sighs blow vain against,—a flame<br />
Ungovernable to remorse. Not furrowing winds<br />
That split the watery fields to Thetis' bed,<br />
And make a foamy Ural of her shore,<br />
Can sweep it out. Ay, groan and shake,<br />
And draw your mantle up! Behind a cover<br />
Thick as Taygetus' sides, I'd see you limned<br />
In shame!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Springing up</em>] What's shame to love? To love fire-sprung<br />
From instant meeting of fore-strangered eyes?<br />
And such was ours, there in that Athens' grove.<br />
Imperial of itself, it asks no loan<br />
Of subject virtue's smock to drape it royal.<br />
As fen-born vapors seem to nest the stars,<br />
Yet far below them do but thatch the world<br />
When they look down, the vassal qualities<br />
May lift no touch to love, that yet must wear,<br />
To earth's unvantaged eyes, their reek and hue.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Aerial love is but an earthling still,<br />
It must come down for food or mortal die,<br />
And what but virtues feed it?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nay, you speak</span><br />
Of a fair, lesser thing,—a grace not lit<br />
From thurible in uncreated Hand,<br />
But coaxed from clay to a persuaded life.<br />
Garbed as the days,—patched, plastered, hung with dear<br />
Possessive vanities, it serves to make<br />
Contentment's bed, and cook a patient meal<br />
On comfort's hearth,—even snuggles in the void<br />
That else might ache, sings low, and makes<br />
Companioned feet tread bravely to the grave.<br />
It has a thousand names, but never one<br />
Is love. Be thine that white, ungendered spark,<br />
And naught can feed it, naught can make it less.<br />
Virtue and vice, nobility and shame,<br />
Are rags that drop away, while you sweep on,<br />
Stripped as a flame, with arms about your star.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Pyrrha is silent. Both start at sound of a noise on the water</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> What sound is that?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">The rowers are returning.</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> So quietly?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Goes to door and closes it</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The world shall not come in</span><br />
On me and you. Be mine this broken hour,<br />
And Hieron may flute through after-time<br />
At secret doors where you lock up your favors.<br />
For you will go with him.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">A prophet too?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You'll make his home, but I shall come and go<br />
The unseen master there.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Now for the vision!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You'll watch your door,—the unheard step is mine,—<br />
And rock the babe born of a dream of me.<br />
And I, far-wandered, lost unto myself,<br />
Shall never lose you, Pyrrha. As the light<br />
Wrapping the wave reveals its silver dance,<br />
My being shall exult through shade and wear<br />
The chlamys of your gleam. Your voice behind<br />
The wind shall draw me lover-lipped to meet<br />
Adventure's breath. You'll lie upon the hush<br />
That girdles evening,—be the thrill within<br />
The throstle's note, and silence when<br />
His song is done.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Nay, it will speak of Phania,</span><br />
Of Sybaris.——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Ay, and a hundred more<br />
In whom I've sought for thee, my Pyrrha, always thee!<br />
'Twill speak of them as statues speak of shards<br />
About their feet,—the sculptor's broken dreams<br />
That made the perfect one.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>The ship rocks</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We're moving!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Yes,</span><br />
You know,—to safer waters. Listen, Pyrrha,<br />
To me—to <em>me</em>!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Those sounds——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Kneels</em>] Hear <em>me</em>! My head<br />
I'll votive lay till you may set your feet<br />
Like tangled roses in my curls——</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Pyrrha springs toward the door, but Biades is before her.
The noises increase. Groans, blows, shouts</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Aside!</span><br />
I'll pass!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> O, save our bones. I am the stronger.<br />
You know 't.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> You! I'll wind you like a thread!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> You didn't.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Didn't....</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">When we wrestled.</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">When....</span><br />
Oh, <em>then</em>! My arm was lame. Come, I will pass!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Nay, 'twas your heart that spared me!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Ay, like this!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Where are we going?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">You love me. What an arm!</span><br />
'Twas never lame!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Come! Tell me what's our port,<br />
Then I shall know one place we do <em>not</em> go.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Tut, love! Pry into men's affairs?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Be calm——</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> What does this mean? [<em>Advancing</em>] I'll know!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Retreating</em>] You shall! It means<br />
"The last lie wins." We go to harbor.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Ah!...</span><br />
Those rowers....</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Faithful and fleet as ever bore</span><br />
An Athenian general home. They came upon<br />
Your signal——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Mine?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> They lay at watch, not Phernes.<br />
Look on those lights! O, trinal star, set high<br />
By my beloved! My honor's flaming hedge——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">You fly,</span><br />
But in a net! The Spartans heard those shouts.<br />
They are in chase—you'll see——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">They're unprepared.</span><br />
The captains off their ships, the guards in doubt,<br />
And oarsmen half asleep. But let them come<br />
Far as they dare, and if they dare too far<br />
From Persia's shelter, the Athenian fleet<br />
Will close like jaws about them.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Sits, with sudden hopelessness</em>] You have won,<br />
My lord.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I have.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">What will you do with me?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I'll wed thee, sweet.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I'll not——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Yes, love, you will.</span><br />
There is a dagger hangs in Phelas' shop,<br />
Shall be your bridal gift. A prizèd blade<br />
Of coppered gold, hued like a battle morning.<br />
Smooth-cheeked as Artemis, although inlaid<br />
With pictured tale. A captured Amazon,<br />
Wrought palely in alloy,—a silvered fear<br />
On th' bronzen flush of courage,—bows before<br />
Her conqueror, a knight who gently bends<br />
As I do now——</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Thrusting him off</em>] No! Never! I'll not trust<br />
Your dolphin nature! Long as fish have fins<br />
You'll sport in every sea! Go—go to Phania!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Turns angrily from her</em>] Ay, by my gods that I have found again,<br />
I shall wed none but an Athenian maid!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>Pyrrha swoons. He rushes to her</em>]</span><br />
Her heart is still. O, curse my double-tongue!<br />
She's dead—she's dead! She takes the Spartan way—<br />
To die, not yield! Oh, Pyrrha, Pyrrha, Pyrrha! [<em>Rushes about distractedly</em>]<br />
I will not live! I'll leap into the sea!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>On her elbow, as he reaches door</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">You might catch cold. [<em>He stares at her. She sits up</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Is this your grace in love?</span><br />
Your pictured ease, with no dissuasive line?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> O, Pyrrha, peace! Let us be done with cheat<br />
And mockery!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] My heart on that, my lord!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Own thou art mine! My world when sunsets die!<br />
My breath of meadows lying past the moon!<br />
Compassionate this earth, and in my soul<br />
Fix thee its centre. Say thou'lt come!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">My lord,</span><br />
Could I be sure....</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, Pyrrha, there's no light</span><br />
Falls from thine eye that does not sway me like<br />
A bee in rose wind-shaken. I am thine.<br />
There'll be no battle, but a nuptial feast<br />
With three great armies for our brothered guests.<br />
Your land and mine are one. Give me your hand.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> I will. For Sparta's sake.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And love's!</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>Giving her hand</em>] And love's.</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT V</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>The garden of Pelagon, as in first act. Enter youths and maidens
dancing about Pyrrha and Biades. They sing:</em></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Hymen, god of bended knees,</span>
<span class="i2">Who would gain to thee must lose!</span>
<span class="i0">Take from us thy merry fees,</span>
<span class="i2">Though our fairest thou dost choose,—</span>
<span class="i0">Pyrrha and our Biades!</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Fling the garland and the wreath!</span>
<span class="i2">Roses, roses consecrate,</span>
<span class="i0">That upgive their happy breath</span>
<span class="i2">In an ardor 'neath our feet,</span>
<span class="i0">Kissing fortune in their death!</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Sparta's won, and Athens' wed!</span>
<span class="i2">Shyest hours of midnight, bring</span>
<span class="i0">Charm and blessing for the bed</span>
<span class="i2">Whence a fairer Greece shall spring</span>
<span class="i0">And her golden peace be bred!</span>
</div></div>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They dance off, lower right, as Pelagon and Stesilaus
enter middle left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Ha, neatly sung! By Hermes, they have made<br />
A tickling in my sandals.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Frivol!</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Eh?</span><br />
Nay, youth must wind his horn——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Not in my ears!</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Though he never come to the hunt. But Biades<br />
Has run the chase, and's bravely home again,<br />
The game in pack.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Too noble game for him!<br />
My girl! That I should ever play the sire<br />
To a fop of Athens!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">If the burn's so raw,</span><br />
You've secret salve for it.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Yes. 'Tis not my blood</span><br />
That so forgets its source!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Sh! Stesilaus!</span><br />
A little butter on the tongue, my friend,<br />
Does no man harm.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Butter a hackle, not</span><br />
My tongue! If I'm so rubbed, I'll rasp the winds<br />
Till they sprout ears. Don't "sh" me, Pelagon.<br />
I'll muffle in no corners.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hist, I say——</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Don't zizz into my beard! We are not curs<br />
To nose and smell in council!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ruin's on us!</span><br />
You will be heard——</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Menas, upper right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Joy to the noble fathers!</span><br />
Sweet saviors of our city!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Sweet!</span></p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">What says</span><br />
Our Stesilaus?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Ahem! The Spartan joy<br />
Is ever dumb. But see him stirred to heart<br />
That by a gift from out his very life,<br />
His dearest daughter, peace is home in Athens,<br />
And's forced no more to camp and cadge and beg<br />
At our shut gates. Yet it goes hard to part<br />
Wi' the fairest branch on's tree.</p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">In Biades</span><br />
He finds a treasured son.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">By a mermaid's shoes,</span><br />
A precious son!</p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">How, sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Indeed, indeed,</span><br />
A jewel of a son! Will you, friend Menas,<br />
Float with the senators, and bring to shore<br />
Report of how they drift,—what currents favor<br />
And what now counter us?</p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'll go, my lords,</span><br />
To hear the latest honor they conclude<br />
Best caps your fame, and bring it in a word. [<em>Exit Menas</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> I had two minds to throw the truth in 's face<br />
And see him strangle on it.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Friend, wouldst make</span><br />
My old knees creak to earth? I sue to you<br />
Be soft as prudence. Shall we now be false<br />
To our dearly tended hope—united Greece?<br />
Now when the fact is on us, and our dream<br />
Walks in the day? I beg you clear your heart<br />
Of selfish fire that eats the very pattern<br />
Of love's new world. It is ungraced, perverse<br />
As altar flame that would devour the shrine<br />
'Twas lit to honor.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Think of Greece? What's Greece,<br />
When my own daughter pairs with——</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Nay, but mine.</span><br />
When you are bitterest set, say to yourself<br />
She's of my loins, and when more softly taken,<br />
Then call her yours. But openly be constant<br />
To a father's right in her, and proudly sire<br />
Her honors. And 's for Biades, he's but<br />
A brocket yet, his antlers barely bossed.<br />
My oath upon it, your reshaping hand<br />
Firm-cupped about his overweening spring,<br />
Will be a second cradle where he'll grow<br />
Fair to your fashion. Think on that.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I will.</span><br />
There's comfort. Ay, so, so. The terms of peace<br />
Make him a Spartan. Pyrrha stood with me<br />
Stout-willed on that.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then whist! You trust your wife?</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> You speak to Stesilaus.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Eh, I know</span><br />
You've her in hand. My Sachinessa now— [<em>Sighs</em>]<br />
But she loves Phania best. That locks her tongue.<br />
And, friend, do you not see the high all-ruling Will<br />
Has moved behind our own?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I think it so.</span><br />
Our aim achieves its heaven, though we smart<br />
Beneath it. To the outer glozing fame<br />
That now attires us splendent, we may add<br />
Inmost applause. When we exchanged our babes,<br />
'Twas for this end and day, and had we held<br />
To our first intent and taken our own again,<br />
Our hope had died unfruitive. 'Twas there<br />
That deity came in and shifted us<br />
To th' true sybillic course.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Who dares say else?</span><br />
We'll wear the issue as a sacred robe<br />
Fallen on us from Olympus.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Which our wisdom</span><br />
Fits comely to us. Forget it not, such gift<br />
Had been withheld from minds too poor to be<br />
The heirs of Zeus.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> But if the clay-eyed mob,<br />
Whose pottage traffic up Olympian paths<br />
Blocks commerce godly and invisible——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Tush, cut the string, if you have aught in bag.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Why, I would say if some of grosser sight<br />
Than our two selves, should fumble on our secret<br />
That Pyrrha is Athens born——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Nay, put your fears</span><br />
In pocket. It shall not be known.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Biades</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ha, nunky!</span><br />
Where is my happy father? [<em>Sees Stesilaus</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">A suit, my lord!</span><br />
I've Pyrrha's leave to make our home in Athens<br />
If thou wilt bless our dwelling. Crave thy grace<br />
For sake of her in whom thy pride best flowers!<br />
Here she'll o'erlay all Spartan crudity<br />
With suavest bloom, and take e'en native place<br />
Where Athens' love would set her.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Never, sir! [<em>Exit, middle left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> The gray fox snaps. Ho, but I'll draw his teeth,<br />
And he shall yelp for 't too!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Shame, sir! Not give</span><br />
The road to him? The father of your bride?</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I will when she's his daughter.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">What! What, boy?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I say when she's his daughter. Let that in<br />
At your good ear, and in the t'other one<br />
I'll call <em>you</em> father.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ruin! It's come!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Who thinks</span><br />
I'd make that Spartan grunt my father, knows<br />
Not me! What? Set that boding beard at head<br />
Of my Athenian house? Or go to Sparta<br />
To hut me where I would not ask a stall<br />
For a borrowed horse?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">But——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Scratch my helpless throat</span><br />
With bread a pig would stick at? Swallow brew<br />
Of salt and soot? And chafe my pumiced skin<br />
With itching linsey?—or an untanned hide,<br />
As man were still the beast that wore it?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Peace,</span><br />
My son——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Say grace for leeks and goose-foot?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">But——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Though Eros pinned me head and foot with shafts,<br />
I've saved my eyes, bless my united wits,<br />
And know the high-road! I'll not lose me on<br />
A pig-trail to a sty.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But if these Spartans hear</span><br />
They'll sack the city! Zeus deliver us!<br />
We're lost! we're lost! Oh, Biades!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Calm</em>] Talk in a muff, good father Pelagon,<br />
Or we indeed are lost.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You'll keep the secret?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> A time. I've plans in seed will make all Sparta<br />
A garden for my Athens, where her fame<br />
Shall browse to its tallest. Trust me, Pelagon.<br />
I'm still a general!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter, lower right, young men who surround Biades, and
press him off, singing</em>]</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Gander now must keep with goose!</span>
<span class="i2">Biades, O, Biades,</span>
<span class="i0">Thou shalt ne'er the cord unloose,</span>
<span class="i2">For the mighty god decrees</span>
<span class="i0">He shall hang who dares the noose!</span>
</div></div>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Stesilaus</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> He's gone? I took<br />
My anger off where it might safely blow.<br />
This path brushed clear by Heaven must not be closed<br />
By our stumbling selves. The widgeon! He would fly<br />
Above the eagle, but I'll snip his feathers,<br />
Give me good time! He'd live in Athens, ha!<br />
And swore on Hera's altar he would be<br />
A son of Sparta!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay, I noted, sir,</span><br />
That Sparta was not named in 's oath.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">What now?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Naught, naught, my friend! Yet he but swore to make<br />
The land of Pyrrha his.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And what meant that</span><br />
But Sparta? If his warm wooer's oath must cool,<br />
We've winters that will do it.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Caution's best.</span><br />
Slow-mare will get you home.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">A year or two</span><br />
Of good black bread, and free winds on his skin<br />
Will take the maiden from his cheeks and set<br />
A true man's beard there. Tush! I thought that Fate,<br />
Granting my main desire, gave me this plague,<br />
Which, with the rest, now proves my life has pleased<br />
High arbiters. You're silent, Pelagon.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> No, no! Yes, yes! I think so. 'Tis indeed!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Come, come, my friend! We will go forth and meet<br />
The occasion as a guest, bethinking us<br />
We walk between mankind and deity.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They start out and are met by Alcanor and Phania who
fall before them</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>Kneeling to Stesilaus</em>] Your blessing, father!</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> [<em>At Pelagon's feet</em>] Blessing, dearest father!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> What, what!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> [<em>To Stesilaus</em>] Forgive your child!</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">The priest——</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">My child?</span></p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> The priest has made us one.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">What priest? Who dared</span><br />
Defile the altar with such rite?</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Defile?</span><br />
Though you're my Phania's father, you shall cast<br />
No stain upon that holy ceremony<br />
Whose odor yet is round us. Sir, the priest<br />
Has blessed us. Do you as you please. Come, Phania!<br />
Come, sweet! We'll smile at this. Though a father's curse<br />
Bethorn our way, a gentler heaven will drop<br />
Its soft approval where thy feet must pass. [<em>Going</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Speak, Stesilaus! Stop your wretched son!</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> Not wretched, sir, while Phania is my own.<br />
We shall be blest when you, too late, beseech<br />
Unhearing gods forgive you this!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Stay, sir!</span><br />
O, miserable boy!</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">No, father, no!</span><br />
He's happy in my love as leaf in air,<br />
As the sea-crystalled fish, as lotos in<br />
Its pool,—and I—O, sir, my joy has wings,<br />
And tho' I love you dear and daughterly,—<br />
Who gave me life,—your anger has no weight<br />
To keep my feet on earth. Like twirling lark<br />
Too high for storm to reach, I dance above<br />
Displeasure's cloud. [<em>Trips off with Alcanor</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Sweet wretches! Here's a turn!<br />
My little Phania! Friend, what shall we do?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Again the finger of the gods.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">The gods</span><br />
To limbo! I will save my daughter!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Yours?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Yea, by each hour of prattle at my knee!<br />
By all my care that's been her constant nurse,<br />
And every joy that from devotion sprang<br />
To meet me like a flower as she grew,<br />
She's mine, mine, mine! Oh, Stesilaus, oh,<br />
Whosever she may be, I love the chick,<br />
And she shall not be damned!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter, upper left, Sachinessa and Archippe</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Here's a reproach</span><br />
Comes with a dual mouth. If we show doubt,<br />
They'll put us under pestle. Rally, sir!</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> [<em>To Archippe</em>] Are you all lump?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Pick up your courage. Why!</span><br />
The gods are gods by their audacity.<br />
I'll bring it off. Now, Pelagon?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Who has turned to flee</em>] What, you,<br />
My love?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Such heavy news! Enough to make<br />
The gods no more co-venture with a world<br />
Augmented so!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> What, Sachinessa, what?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Our Phania's married to Alcanor.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Eh?</span></p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Now are you pleased? Now is your cruelty<br />
Full-fed, or must it glut again?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">My sweet——</span></p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> You'll meddle with high Zeus! Have you enough?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Oh, Sachinessa!</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Brother and sister bound</span><br />
In an abhorrent union that will drive<br />
Their shades forever from Elysian ground!<br />
Nay, even Hades will make fast her gates<br />
'Gainst such offenders, innocently vile!<br />
Archippe, speak to that unbending man,<br />
Half author of this shame! I'd thin his beard<br />
If Heaven had mocked me with his long, smug face<br />
For husband! Ugh! The whiskered horse!</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Dumb, sir?</span><br />
You've no defence?—no master argument<br />
To prove your wisdom's never off the road<br />
To Zeus' gate? Not once in all your life,<br />
Although your daughter's to her brother wedded?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> 'Tis well. I can not doubt the gods.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>They stare at him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Her brother born?</span><br />
So foul a hap?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> A thing too dread in thought,<br />
And in the act unutterable if Zeus<br />
Be unconcerned in it. Therefore believe<br />
His hand here moves, and holy majesty<br />
O'errules the mortal scruple, so dividing<br />
This horror from its kind. May it not be<br />
The blood of Stesilaus hath in 'ts flow<br />
A heavenly tinct that makes it not a sin,<br />
But rather virtue, to keep pure the stream<br />
From baser founts? They've done no more than kings<br />
And gods before them.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Pelagon, <em>your</em> croak!</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> I take a lower ground, my dearest dove.<br />
All Athens knows me modest——</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Ay to that!</span><br />
Can blush as deep as any crow that flies!</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Now, now! From first to last I've held it truth<br />
That breeding scantles birth, and on that count<br />
Make Phania our daughter.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Oh, you do?</span></p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> I stand on this, that training is the man.<br />
Or woman, let us say, and not the blood<br />
We buried with our fathers. So these two<br />
Mate not ancestrally, but in their lives<br />
That distantly upbred have not between them<br />
A structural thread to bind them of one house.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> What men are these?</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I am no more afraid</span><br />
Of him I thought was Stesilaus.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Listen,</span><br />
You women. Though we are thus righted——</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Humph!</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> In man's and Heaven's eye, we yet will bow<br />
To your own wish in this. As once we gave<br />
Your sighs the right of way, we now will ease<br />
This second woe by taking swiftest means<br />
To part this clucking pair.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You'll yield to <em>us</em>?</span></p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> How like you, Sachinessa, this high place<br />
Above the gods?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> They shall be parted?</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ay,</span><br />
We do consent.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Nay, you shall please yourselves.<br />
For my own part, I will not break their bonds<br />
And set their hearts a-bleeding.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">No, nor I.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> How now, vapidity?</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I mean, my lord,</span><br />
You have convinced me, and this marriage bond<br />
Shall be as Zeus has made it.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Pelagon,</span><br />
Your reason captures mine, and I repent<br />
My mockery. This strange event's no more<br />
Uncouth, now you have pried the way for me<br />
To wisdom's bed of truth. I clearly see<br />
Thai man and woman of one mother born<br />
May be no kin. The marriage shall stand.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> In name of Zeus!</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Yes, in his name.</span></p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Nay, wife,</span><br />
We know your simple heart, and read its horror<br />
Through this pretence so suddenly clapped on.<br />
We shall reject a forced and sad submission——</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Ay, ay, we shall! I'll act at once, and stop<br />
Their kisses, riveting a bond unblessed——</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Unblessed?</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">My golden joy, I speak your thought</span><br />
Not mine.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>A clamor in street</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> They come for us.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I hear my name.</span><br />
We'll out and greet them.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">No, my friend.</span><br />
Let them come in unnoted.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Ay, we'll sit</span><br />
Withdrawn, in gentle argument. Here's shade.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They go aside. Enter Lysander, Agis, Creon, Menas, and
a score of Spartans and Athenians</em>]</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Is Stesilaus here? We must be heard.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> He's here.</p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> And Pelagon! Where's Pelagon?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> His good ear's toward, sir.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Unable to keep aside</em>] Did I not hear<br />
My name?</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Why, so I said.</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> [<em>Advancing to Stesilaus</em>] My lord, we come——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> What haste, good Agis? Goes the world so fast?</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> As fast as Fate can drive it, and you, my lord,<br />
Are under foot.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Who has been listening to Menas</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">You hear it, Stesilaus!</span><br />
Athens is ashes! We're betrayed, betrayed!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Biades, Pyrrha, Phania, Alcanor, and their companions
swarm in, lower right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Silence, and let us hear! Now, Agis, speak.</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> And grieve that 'tis my part. The Spartans know<br />
Your treachery——</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Who dares to give such a name</span><br />
To deed of mine?</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Denial comes too far</span><br />
Behind the proof, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">The proof? What proof?</span></p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> 'Tis known to all. The very curb cries out<br />
That Pyrrha is Athenian born, the child<br />
Of Pelagon.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Oh, Zeus!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Bear up, my Pyrrha!</span></p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> Ay, Athens weds with Athens, and on that<br />
You build the peace of Sparta! A bold deceit<br />
Of yours and Pelagon's, whereby we're sold<br />
To a foeman's pleasure!</p>
<p><em>A Spartan.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Though the heart of Athens</span><br />
Be in the knot that binds your traitorous bargain,<br />
We'll cut it through!</p>
<p><em>Agis.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Will you deny you changed</span><br />
Your babes in cradle?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Silence</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Pray you, who revealed</span><br />
This ancient secret?</p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Creon came——</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Ah, Creon!</span></p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> Before the senate, then in seat to unfold<br />
From rivalrous invention, topless honors<br />
For these two lords, whose guilt had long devoured<br />
Such labor's root and reason.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Creon came?</span></p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> And bared the tale, made his by accident,<br />
And swore you knew it too,—that Pyrrha there<br />
Is Pelagon's daughter, and Phania is the child<br />
Of Spartan Stesilaus.</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Oh, oh, oh!</span></p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> A rope for me then!</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> [<em>To Biades</em>] <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Sir, I did not speak,</span><br />
But trusted all to you, until the secret<br />
Laid night on Phania's innocence and grew<br />
Too foul to keep.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You knew this, Biades?</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> And knew you would forgive!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">This was the spring</span><br />
Of all your oaths! In my espousèd hand<br />
You'd lay my country's peace, knowing her name<br />
Was Attica! This was your proof of love.<br />
The oilèd wedge that let you in my heart!<br />
False in the trothal moment that should make<br />
The foulest for an instant pure!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">But hear——</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> Oh, in that hour which women wrap in rose<br />
And hide where thoughts like guardian doves may go,<br />
You set a cautel touching it with death<br />
That leaves me treasureless!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">My Pyrrha,——</span></p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">Not yours!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Howe'er 'twas done, I won you!</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Won a Spartan!</span><br />
Now keep the shadow. As an Athenian maid<br />
I do renounce you! [<em>Escapes him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah! Zeus loves the dice.</span><br />
He's always at the game. But who'd have thought<br />
This throw would be against me? Hear me, sweet!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 16em;">[<em>To Stesilaus</em>]</span><br />
Dear father, speak to her. She'll heed your voice,<br />
Your judgment ripe, and words set out like cups<br />
With wisdom's honey.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> [<em>Awake to fathership</em>] Ay, my son, I will!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> Not you, in name of hope! [<em>Follows Pyrrha</em>]</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> Monsters of fatherhood, how dare you show<br />
Your faces in this sun? Go seek some cave<br />
Whose darkest den will not betray a shame<br />
Of its own hue! No, Phania, do not cling<br />
To my unwilling breast that now must be<br />
A hedge of swords to your bird bosom. [<em>Holds her tightly</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pha.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Oh!</span></p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> Withdraw your hand, proud Spartan!</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">I will protect</span><br />
My sister, sir, from any lord of Athens!</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> Look, Pelagon,—and Stesilaus,—here!<br />
Look on this warbling joy hatched tenderly<br />
In nest of your conceit, which you've kept warm<br />
Forgetting you had hearts where love bechid<br />
Sat in unfeathered cold. If you are fathers,<br />
Drink of their ecstasy till every vein<br />
Applauds it!</p>
<p><em>Lys.</em> Pray you, peace! The Senators!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Amentor and other Senators</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> What's your demand?</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Your life, Lord Stesilaus.</span><br />
And that of Pelagon, in Athens' name.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> My life?</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> Not less will still this wind and save<br />
Our homes from undefended sack. They've seized<br />
The citadel——</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Then on my armor! Wife</span><br />
May whistle when the bugle calls!</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Stay, sir!</span><br />
The Spartans are in power, and any check<br />
Means slaughter. There's no help. The Persian fleet<br />
Has sailed. The Athenians drop their useless arms<br />
And follow at command, knowing no way<br />
To win but by a bloodless yielding.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Yield!</span></p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> Sir, we must grant the Spartans these two lives,<br />
Whereon they'll strike no further. So they swear.</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> [<em>To Pelagon</em>] This is your downy Peace wooed from the clouds<br />
To hover over Athens! Save the name!<br />
She's from a briar-patch, not Heaven! Her wings<br />
Are full of burrs!</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> [<em>Holding Pelagon</em>] Stand to! A scuttled ship<br />
Has no choice deck. There's nothing to be saved<br />
But dignity.</p>
<p><em>Pel.</em> Nay, that's for Stesilaus! [<em>Breaking away</em>]<br />
My life, my life!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Noise mounts without. The wall is broken through, rear,
and the breach reveals the street filled with angry Spartans</em>]</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> Peace!</p>
<p><em>Gir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Give us Stesilaus!</span></p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> And Pelagon! The traitors! Give them up!</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> You see them. There they stand.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Misses Pelagon</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 16em;">Where's Pelagon?</span></p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> We have him here! Bring Stesilaus!</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Hold!</span><br />
I am Archippe. Let me speak.</p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">No mercy!</span></p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> I ask none, friends. The wife of Stesilaus<br />
Is not so much in 's debt she owes him aught<br />
On mercy's score.</p>
<p><em>Gir.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Then speak.</span></p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Is Philon here?</span><br />
The reverend priest?</p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> He comes! Make way! He's here!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Philon comes out</em>]</p>
<p><em>Philon.</em> Speak first, Archippe. I'll follow you.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">My friends,</span><br />
I'm such a one as you do most contemn,—<br />
A woman disobedient to her lord.<br />
But if you judgment give upon that point,<br />
Remember that my lord is Stesilaus.<br />
When this my daughter here,—yes, Pyrrha, she,—<br />
Child of my nurturing blood,——</p>
<p><em>Voices.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">What? What? Your child?</span></p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> Silence! Speak on, Archippe.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">When she lay</span><br />
A morsel cradled, two months' breath in her,<br />
Came he, the father, swearing she must go<br />
To Sachinessa's breast, and I must take<br />
Her Phania to my own,—thereby to serve<br />
In some occulted way the future good<br />
Of Greece. And all the mercy won from him<br />
Was leave to journey with my child to Athens——</p>
<p><em>Sac.</em> But I was not so meek! By Pallas, no!<br />
What—who—was Pelagon, to rob my bosom<br />
Of Hera's gift? Who made him greater than<br />
The gods? 'Tis but a girl, he said, to me,<br />
A mother! I went to Philon then, the priest<br />
Whom Athens honors, and by holy counsel,<br />
We did not change our babes, but let our deed<br />
Wear face that pleased them, with a heart our own,<br />
And home Archippe went with Pyrrha safe,<br />
While I in Athens held my Phania close.<br />
And they, fond sires, who knew no difference<br />
Between a <em>girl</em> and <em>girl</em>, hugged their deep plan<br />
And built the phantom of united Greece<br />
Upon it.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> If those ghostly towers, now fallen,<br />
May rise again, it is our act, my lords,<br />
Provides them nature's base, and not a dream's.<br />
Condemn us, if you will, as erring wives,<br />
But as true mothers give us softer justice.<br />
And if there's scale or balance that can hold<br />
Such torturous weight, lay on it all the pain<br />
Of lonely years that saw me turn my face<br />
From my loved daughter, lest this man of rock<br />
Should know her mine and his.</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Your own, your own,</span><br />
My mother!</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">So you slip me, dame,</span><br />
And Pyrrha goes with you. But Biades<br />
Is under thumb by this same turn. He now<br />
Must know himself a Spartan, and shall keep<br />
My terms.</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> Make them full easy. You shall lay<br />
No marring hand upon our children's joy<br />
As fell on mine.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">O, sue for me, Archippe!</span><br />
Give me my bride! Whatever be her race,<br />
Her home is in my arms!</p>
<p><em>Arc.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Forgive him, Pyrrha.</span><br />
Not for his pleading, but for love I know<br />
You bear him.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Pyrrha permits Biades to embrace her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Alc.</em> [<em>To Phania</em>] Sweet, we know our heaven by<br />
Those moments in a hell.</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Here's feast enough!</span></p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> But poor old Creon in this rain of porridge<br />
Starves for a spoon.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And you, perforce, take one</span><br />
Of Spartan make.</p>
<p><em>Bia.</em> I'm caught. But in love's lap.<br />
I'll swallow Sparta for so dear a bed.</p>
<p><em>Menas.</em> And you need fear no distaff tyranny,<br />
My lord. There you are safe. Although your bride<br />
Be Hera-limbed, you've proved yourself her Zeus<br />
In open match.</p>
<p><em>Cre.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">How if her movèd heart</span><br />
Crept to her arm and slipped the victory<br />
Unwon to love?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Biades is suddenly embarrassed</em>]</p>
<p><em>Pyrr.</em> [<em>With a caress of assurance</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If that were so, my lords,</span><br />
My pride would harbor his, and none should know<br />
My secret.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> Senators, and men of Athens,<br />
Art dumb when justice waits on you for voice?<br />
What censure have you for these rebel wives,<br />
And this unsainted priest?</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> [<em>To Philon</em>] You counselled them<br />
To their deceit?</p>
<p><em>Philon.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">I did.</span></p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You've no defence?</span></p>
<p><em>Philon.</em> I need none.</p>
<p><em>Ste.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ha!</span></p>
<p><em>Philon.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Whoso reveres the gods</span><br />
Draws of their strength in every mortal inch,<br />
And in this act I did them reverence,<br />
Standing between their wish and meddling wits<br />
Of these presumptive men. But pardon them.<br />
For it is shame enough to've thought to make<br />
A frislet of their own shake like the locks<br />
Of cloud-haired Zeus. For me, my hand is on<br />
My altar, and I fear no fall.</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">No more,</span><br />
Good Philon.</p>
<p><em>Philon.</em> Ay, a word, This morning, sir,<br />
I blessed the couple here, knowing them free<br />
Of kindred blood,—Alcanor and his Phania.<br />
The strands are doubly woven that now bind<br />
Sparta and Athens. Pyrrha and Biades<br />
Were first to link them one, and now this pair<br />
Unites them o'er.</p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You hear, my Spartan friends.</span><br />
What say you? Is it peace?</p>
<p><em>Spartans.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Peace be to Athens!</span></p>
<p><em>Amen.</em> And peace to Sparta! Hearts and altars guard it!<br />
Go, citizens! See that the chariots<br />
Glow with new garlands for this double bridal.<br />
And let the noble wives of these proud lords<br />
Co-queen festivity. All shall rejoice<br />
Save this convicted pair,—you, Pelagon,<br />
And Stesilaus. You we prison here,<br />
Your own sole company, nor shall you speak<br />
Save in a rhyme now dim with little use,<br />
But shall be better known from this day forth<br />
With polish you shall give it. Hear it, sirs:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<p class="noidt"><em>The man who would his own pie bake</em><br />
<em>Must from his wife ten fingers take.</em></p>
</div></div>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 100%;" />
<h2><a name="KIDMIR" id="KIDMIR"></a>KIDMIR
<br /><br />
<small>A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS</small></h2>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3><em>CHARACTERS</em></h3>
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td align='left'>OSWALD, <em>Earl of Clyffe</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>BERTRAND, <em>sometime</em> VAIRDELAN, <em>his son</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>CHARILUS, <em>a Greek</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>ARDIA, <em>his daughter</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>BIONDEL <em>and</em> VIGARD, <em>sons of Charilus</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>BANISSAT, <em>Prince of Avesta</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>PRINCE FREDERICK</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>BERENICE, <em>his daughter</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>GAINA, <em>serving-woman to Ardia</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>BARCA, <em>servant to Charilus</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>RAMUNIN, <em>a headsman</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>SEVEN MAIDENS, <em>friends of Ardia</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='center'><em>Followers of Banissat, soldiers of Oswald, nobles, wedding-guests,<br />
dancers, guards, &c.</em></td></tr>
<tr><td> </td></tr>
<tr><td align='center'><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <em>During the later Crusades</em></td></tr>
<tr><td align='center'><span class="smcap">Place:</span> <em>The southern coast of Asia Minor</em></td></tr>
</table>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT I</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p class="negidt"><em>Charilus stands on parapet and looks down toward Avesta. Barca waits
within the hall.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Char.</em> O, sea-washed city, must the hail of fire<br />
Crimson thy milky walls, and salt winds strive<br />
In vain to sweeten ditches dark with blood<br />
From thy tapped heart? Come, Barca, be my eyes,<br />
Who climbs the heights?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Barca advances and looks over</em>]</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Lords Vigard and Biondel<br />
Are on the pass.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">My sons so soon returned!</span><br />
No other?</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Farther down, my lord, I see<br />
The knight, Sir Vairdelan.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Then we shall hear</span><br />
His sunset song.</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> The stairway through the cliff<br />
Is closed. Shall I give signal, sir, to hoist<br />
The upper gate?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">That is my charge henceforth. [<em>Going left</em>]</span><br />
They will be hungered. [<em>Turns to Barca</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Scant the board in nothing. [<em>Exit left</em>]</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Gaina enters, right, rear, carrying a tray piled with candles</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Thank goodness, Barca, you're where you're
wanted for once! Help me with these winkers. [<em>Giving
him candles</em>] 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!</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> [<em>Placing candles</em>] She was watching for her
brothers?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> [<em>Puts tray down</em>] 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.</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> 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.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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 <em>my</em> eyes!</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> What! You would have your mistress marry
Banissat? An unbeliever?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> A prince is a prince,—and I'd say the same if
my mistress were my own daughter.</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> And you a Christian!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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——</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Let it out.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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——</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Devil? A knight of the Cross leading the army
of the Lord to Jerusalem.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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!</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Gently, Gaina. You were young once.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Once? I've more hairs than wrinkles yet, which
some can't say and tell the truth!</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Tongue in! Here's the master. [<em>Moves right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> My candles!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Seizes tray and goes out, right, as Charilus re-enters left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> [<em>To Barca</em>] Look to the supper.<br />
[<em>Exit Barca, right. Charilus crosses to parapet and looks down</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 13em;">Doubt-blown city, rest.</span><br />
Sleep on my heart. You shall not bleed for me.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Ardia from chamber midway right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Alone, my father?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Never alone, and yet</span><br />
My wish was calling thee. [<em>Sits, and draws her beside him</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ah, not one guard</span><br />
About thee?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> The only guard is always near,—<br />
A fearless heart.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Then I have none. My heart</span><br />
Is made of fears.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">No charm but love will lift</span><br />
Our gates of rock.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But who knows love from hate</span><br />
In days like these? Some foe with friendship's eyes,<br />
Some secret knife of Oswald's——</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">None may tread</span><br />
The guarded pass save our knight Vairdelan<br />
And your two brothers.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Vairdelan is late.</span><br />
Why went he down?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Knights true as he, my girl,<br />
Are never questioned.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Starting</em>] Who are at the gates?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Your brothers come.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">So soon? That means good news</span><br />
From Banissat. He'll be your strength against<br />
This mighty Oswald.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Fair his word may be,</span><br />
But I go down the pass.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Go down? To meet</span><br />
That fiend?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> The man who calls himself my foe,<br />
But named of God my brother.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">O, too much</span><br />
Thou lovest love! A fiend, I say!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">That name</span><br />
Give unto me when I consent to piece<br />
This spun-out life with breath of babes and gasp<br />
Of dying mothers. Would you feed these veins,<br />
Gelid and old, all golden venture done,<br />
With the warm waste of youth whose savèd stream<br />
Might bear mankind unto the port of gods?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> But you—you are my father!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">It is such cries</span><br />
Unsettle justice till her shaken scales<br />
Weigh nations 'gainst a heart.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Must I not love you?</span></p>
<p><em>Char.</em> My Ardia, fair as though thou wert not mine,<br />
Or wert all hers who made gray Corinth young,<br />
The love that feeds behind a sheltered door<br />
Must be unroofed and take its bread of stars<br />
Ere it may answer to its holy name.<br />
The heart must build no walls——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I build them not,</span><br />
But find them risen about me. You are here,<br />
Guardful and best, fending my eyes,—there stands<br />
My Biondel,—there Vigard brave,—and there....</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> And there, my daughter?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Hark! 'Tis Vairdelan's voice!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Singing heard below</em>]</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">O fires that build upon the sea</span>
<span class="i2">Till wave and foam of ye are part,</span>
<span class="i0">And burn in mated ecstasy,</span>
<span class="i2">Ye build again within my heart.</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">O clouds that breathe in flame and run</span>
<span class="i2">In linkèd dreams along the sky</span>
<span class="i0">In me the fire is never done,</span>
<span class="i2">Though Eve's gray hand soon puts ye by.</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Christ be my Hand of Eve upon</span>
<span class="i2">The flame that tireless, fadeless leaps!</span>
<span class="i0">Haste holily, O Mary's moon,</span>
<span class="i2">With dew for fire that never sleeps!</span>
</div></div>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Ardia keeps a listening attitude, not heeding the entrance
of her brothers who come on left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Well, sons?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Ay, well! That is the word we bring.<br />
Avesta's prince, the gracious Banissat,<br />
Is now your sworn defender.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Turning</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And asks no price?</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> No more than your fair self, my sister.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>As Ardia stands silent</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You doubt?</span><br />
'Tis true. He'll make you princess!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">He is old....</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> What call you old? He's in the fairest top<br />
Of manhood.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Old!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> And cannot sing....</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Not sing!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> What need have we of him? Can Oswald scale<br />
These rock-barred heights?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Starvation can.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">We've food</span><br />
Will last three harvest moons.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">And Oswald camps</span><br />
Where plain and sea will feed ten thousand men<br />
As many years.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> While here our skeletons<br />
With bleachèd grin may watch the feast below!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> To starve ... is that so terrible? 'Tis but<br />
One way of dying.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Dying?</span></p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Say no more.</span><br />
The morrow's dawn shall light my way to Oswald.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> You'll go to him? Then death!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>To Ardia</em>] <span style="margin-left: 7em;">See what you do?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Forgive me. [<em>Runs to her father and clings to him</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Now! Bind me to Banissat.</span></p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Nay, thou art free.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>To Ardia</em>] <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Our lives shall thank you.</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 17em;">Thanks?</span><br />
You speak her part.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Ardia leaves her father and moves to edge of parapet</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>Following her</em>] Dost know a better way?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I pray you, leave me.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Princess of Avesta!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Your supper waits.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>Starting right</em>] Come, brother!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Though I've supped,</span><br />
I'll sit with you, my sons. Discourse is ever<br />
The best dish at the board.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We thank you, sir.</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exeunt Biondel, Vigard, Charilus, right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> And am I wooed and won? Dreams of a dream,<br />
Where are ye now?... A lover with no song.<br />
No carols stealing sweetness from the moon;<br />
No trembling hand to drop a morning rose<br />
Where I may walk.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>Takes a rose from her bosom and casts it away</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">No rose.... no Vairdelan!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Gaina</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Here, mistress? Dearie dear, a-weeping?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> No.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O, Gaina, Gaina, did you see my mother buried?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Ay, 'twas a sweet grave we laid her in over in
Corinth. You'll never make as pretty a corpse, my dear.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Was I there?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Troth, you were, and trouble enough you gave
me. You wanted to climb into the coffin and go to sleep
too, you said.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O, had you buried me with her I should not have
seen this day!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> No, I don't want you. [<em>Going, right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> O, ho, I can read his name you do want, and
not kill a bird for it either.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Turning</em>] Who, magpie? Who?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Your eyes may save my tongue if they squint sou'west.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Is he coming?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Who, my cuckoo? Who?</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Bertrand enters left. Ardia starts off right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Ardia!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Weakly, pausing at her door</em>] Vairdelan....</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Will not you stay?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I will return. [<em>Exit</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Your mistress is not well?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> You've eyes, sir.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> This fear of Oswald——</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Her trouble's nearer home, sir.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Her father——</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Nay, it wears no beard, though it may in time.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> What troubles her, dear Gaina?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> A man, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> A man!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> The truth, Gaina!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> I can spare it, sir. My master's daughter is so
in love with you——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Angels do not love!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> That may be. I'm speaking of my mistress,
"Magpie!" Not meaning you, sir.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> She can not love me!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 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.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> There's nothing between us!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> A bat could see it by daylight. It's been in
your eyes all the time.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> I never meant it!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Shame to you then. You'll go, sir?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Yes, yes, yes!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Here's my lady. Now don't tell her you're
going. Just go.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Just ... go.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> [<em>At right</em>] Ay, you've got it.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit Gaina as Ardia re-enters</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> My brothers are at supper. Will you join them,<br />
Or do you fast?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">I fast.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">A stern religion</span><br />
Is yours, my friend.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I've chosen it. Ardia,</span><br />
You know me for a knight.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Softly</em>] Who wears no sword.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> But in the English isle where I was born,<br />
I was a monk ... and true. True am I now,<br />
Save that my cell is what men call the world.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Spare speech and me. I know the rest.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Your prayers</span><br />
Then be my bond that Christ may search my heart<br />
And find no part not his.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">No prayer of mine</span><br />
Shall fetter youth to bloodless vows. And you<br />
Look not as one faith-leeched of life. Your cheek<br />
Is sudden gray, not changeless pale. 'Tis hued<br />
Like rebel morning pushing back a dawn<br />
Too eager for its peace. A monk. Our ways<br />
Part as our souls. Know you I am to wed<br />
Prince Banissat? So dumb?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">My father comes!</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">[<em>Meets Charilus re-entering and leads him to a seat</em>]</span><br />
Our guest was telling me of English days.<br />
Now you change tongue with him and speak the tale<br />
You promised yester night. Why does this Oswald,<br />
This war-mad lord of England, on his way<br />
To free the holy tomb, forget his path<br />
And turn his army's strength against a man<br />
No greater than thyself?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Yes, you shall know.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> At last!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">For morning parts us.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Oh! Not that!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Shall I go in, my lord?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nay, Vairdelan.</span><br />
I'd have thee hear. Thou thinkest me a man<br />
Of holy heart.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Ah, who does not?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">There's one</span><br />
Has cause for doubt. 'Twas I who slew in rage<br />
Earl Oswald's father.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You? These hands?</span></p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">These hands.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> I've heard 'twas so.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You've heard?</span></p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">'Tis thirty years</span><br />
Since Oswald, with his father, John of Clyffe,<br />
Marched in Red Giles' crusade. You know of that?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> My grandsire captained there.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I served not Christ,</span><br />
At least as they, with pillage, fire and rape.<br />
But there were some among the English youths<br />
Who took my heart, and Oswald was my choice<br />
Of all who camped before the holy gates.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> That man!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">I, too, was young ... and I was wed.</span><br />
Not to my Ardia's mother, but to her<br />
Whose heart yet boldly beats in my two sons.<br />
In her strange beauty John of Clyffe found death.<br />
He sought her, and I slew him. When his blood<br />
Ran at my feet, I fled,—not from the swords<br />
Hot on my path, but from that stream of blood.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Dear, dear my father! 'Twas a world ago!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> I was not of the many who can kill<br />
And laugh again, nor yet of hermit-heart.<br />
But for myself had made a gentle god<br />
Whom my soul served.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I know, my lord, that sweet</span><br />
Idolatry, and dream what thou didst suffer<br />
So shaken from it.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Far as man knows the world</span><br />
I fled the scarlet stream that followed me,<br />
And on the skyward slope of Himalay,<br />
Between the white of snows and blue of heaven,<br />
Saw it no more.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Kissing his hands</em>] O, white, forgiven hands!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> There, near to God as man may come nor lose<br />
The body's mould, I saw in solvent thought<br />
That knows not time, a sinless star,—this earth<br />
That shall be. Back unto my world I came,<br />
And that my dream might live I lived my dream,<br />
Servant to love even where the slaves of hate<br />
Whet sword and knife.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">O, true!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">'Tis sung of thee!</span></p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Now am I old, but love does not deny me<br />
One service more. To-morrow I shall go<br />
To die at Oswald's feet——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Eagerly</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You will go down?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> No, no! He shall not go! Prince Banissat<br />
Will save him! He has promised!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Gazing at Ardia</em>] Banissat?<br />
So 'twas a bargain. Thou'rt fair goods to be<br />
On th' vender's table. [<em>Turns to Charilus</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">You choose well, my lord.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> What words!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I bring a message from th' earl.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> From Oswald? [<em>Shrinking</em>] You know him?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">If any man</span><br />
May know him,—but I better know his son.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> The vicious Bertrand?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Vicious?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">O, so foul</span><br />
He shuns the day, and walks on moonless nights<br />
Most like his soul!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You speak of Bertrand?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Ay!</span><br />
More wolfish than his father,—beast whose sword<br />
Should be his body's part as tigers wear<br />
Their claws from birth!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">A bold delusion this!</span></p>
<p><em>Char.</em> She speaks untempered rumor. Slander, sir,<br />
Is out of breath with sporting Bertrand's name,<br />
And giveth way to winds that blow it past<br />
Belief's last border.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Slander?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">What will shake</span><br />
These fancies from your heart?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">A miracle.</span><br />
Naught less.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Hard terms. [<em>Turns to Charilus</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I know this Bertrand well.</span><br />
If any happy merit in myself<br />
Has won your love, bestow the same on him.<br />
What I may share is his.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Here's living hope!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> He, like myself, was cloister-bred, and passed<br />
Peaceful, uncounted days until the death<br />
Of his three brothers, slain in one mad hour.<br />
Earl Oswald then bethought him of the son<br />
So early given to Christ. "I have no heir,"<br />
He said, "but God lacks not for monks." And straight<br />
With power and gold bought full release for Bertrand,<br />
Save that release his soul and God might give.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> You make me love his story.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">True to peace</span><br />
Even in the camp of war, he lives withdrawn,<br />
And so gives Rumor sweep for what she would,<br />
While in her swollen report the earl conceals<br />
His monkish son's true nature.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I'll know this youth!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> He keeps his tent by day, and steals at night<br />
To forest glens, his armor but a cloak,<br />
His sword a flute——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">O, light from Heaven!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Sometimes</span><br />
He farther goes, even far as Kidmir heights,<br />
And at the feet of Charilus he learns<br />
A love more true than fane and cloister taught,—<br />
The love that made the houseless, barefoot Christ,<br />
With open breast to all unbrothered woe,—<br />
And now he kneels and of that gentlest love<br />
Asks pardon.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Bertrand, son of Oswald, rise.<br />
There's no forgiving in the sinless star.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Rising, to Ardia</em>] And you?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Ah ... when I've breath!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">What I have said,</span><br />
My lord, makes way for what is yet to say.<br />
To-day I waited by Avesta's gate<br />
For this [<em>taking out paper</em>] my father's word, response to mine<br />
Sent days ago to him. Here, sir, he says: [<em>Reads</em>]</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Your father's hand?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Doubt flies from it, although</span><br />
The vein is alien, sir. It is his hand.<br />
And, I do think, his heart, wherein, my lord,<br />
Your gentleness to me, like creeping rain,<br />
Has moistened love's dry root, whose pent-up bloom<br />
Is by that nurture freed, and magical<br />
Now glows before us.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">This I would believe. [<em>Starts off right</em>]</span><br />
Vigard and Biondel must have this news<br />
From my slow lips, lest with the sudden truth<br />
They strike ablaze. They have their mother's fire.<br />
Albanian Gartha was not one to die<br />
And leave her sons no part in her wild race. [<em>Exit</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> You are not Gartha's daughter?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">No, my lord.</span><br />
Claris of Corinth bore me, and my flame<br />
Is joy, not anger. O, this miracle<br />
You've wrought for me!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I wrought?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">'Tis no less strange</span><br />
When God through his bare tool reveals his hand,<br />
Than when invisible his power stirs<br />
And makes a chasm in sense. So when you stood<br />
Before me, Bertrand's self, with yet the voice,<br />
The eyes, the heart of Vairdelan, I knew<br />
That was my miracle. O Heaven-sign<br />
At which my world grew blithe and shook May-boughs<br />
With birds in every branch!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">You've no more fear</span><br />
For Charilus?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> None, none.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nor for myself.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Yourself?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">O, seems no soul need trouble now</span><br />
In this vast world!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Charilus and sons</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> You are not Vairdelan?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> You're Bertrand, Oswald's son?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">'Tis true.</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">That truth</span><br />
Should cut your throat, and I could lend my sword<br />
For such a matter.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Come! What knightly plea</span><br />
Coats this deceit with honor?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">None, my lord.</span><br />
If I've made trespass deeper than your love<br />
Will bear me out, my hope is in your pardon.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> A lie made you our guest, and guest you are<br />
Until we meet on Suli plain.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">My son!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Call you that pardon, Biondel?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I speak</span><br />
No pardon.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> But you shall—you must. O, say it!<br />
You know our father goes to Oswald.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Know</span><br />
That fools and women talk! The gates are sealed.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> I'll guard the pass against my father's self<br />
If so much rudeness may make stand between<br />
His death and life.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> My sons, I thank your love,<br />
But I go down. The guards, the gates are mine,<br />
And to my will they open.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">'Tis that girl,</span><br />
That silvery Greek——</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">If your quick blood must stir,</span><br />
Let manners grace it.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">O, my dearest brothers,</span><br />
Do you not love me?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Better than you know.</span><br />
We love you, serve you, though yourself obstruct<br />
The way to safety.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You would trust the man</span><br />
Who wrapped him in a lie to enter here?<br />
Sat at our father's board and brake his bread<br />
To feed an enemy?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The bread I brake</span><br />
Fed friendship's heart in me, and made this roof<br />
A temple. Do you not know me, Vigard?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Nay,</span><br />
I knew a Vairdelan—you are not he.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> If Oswald means no harm to Charilus,<br />
Let him pass on. Jerusalem awaits<br />
His savage sword.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> My son, that Oswald thus<br />
Compels me to him is to me but proof<br />
That hearts may greet above long years of hate.<br />
In this I see Love beckoning Man across<br />
The wastrel lands of war to fields unwet<br />
With blood, to days——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Unhearted cowards then!<br />
Praise Allah, we yet live where rapiers thresh<br />
The fields of men and leave the bravest standing!<br />
Is 't not the Prophet's word that Paradise<br />
Lies 'neath the shade of swords?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Allah be yours!</span><br />
But I would walk beneath unrisen stars,<br />
Beyond hate's eyeless clouds——</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">O, spare us, sir!</span><br />
Each day brings its own sun, and by that light,<br />
No other, men must walk. If this our time<br />
Be dark to you, 'tis in your vision, not<br />
In the lit heavens, from whose shoreless depth<br />
No hook of prayer or prophecy may draw<br />
One star before its hour. Pray you be done<br />
With this moon madness. Banissat will meet<br />
The force of Oswald. With the morn he comes<br />
To seal his troth with Ardia——</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">By no word</span><br />
Of mine. If you have given him pledge, your honor<br />
Shall dip to dust and drudge your forfeit out,<br />
Ere virgin bondage pay it. Hark, Biondel,<br />
And hear me, Vigard! I alone shall meet<br />
Earl Oswald. If the blood I shed yet cries<br />
For blood, here are the veins shall make it dumb.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> But, sir,——</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">No more. Your sister stays with you.</span><br />
Regard her will, nor ope these doors unbidden<br />
To Banissat.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I stay? O, never think<br />
I shall not go with thee!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You go?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I'm safe</span><br />
With thee, my father. Here....</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Here you have brothers!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I mean no slight upon you, but my fate<br />
Keeps with my father.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I should doubt the God</span><br />
Who bids me go if I denied you this.<br />
Thyself art Peace, and where thou goest moves<br />
Her radiance. Make you ready. And good-night, all!<br />
Sir Bertrand, know the sleep that fits the heart<br />
For journeying. [<em>Exit right, rear</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>To Ardia</em>] There's one will stop your way—<br />
Prince Banissat!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> We'll send him word this hour,<br />
For while the edge be on his sudden love<br />
He'll thank us to be swift.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You loved me once,</span><br />
My lords.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> True, son of Oswald.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Though you used</span><br />
Some bitter words, I know your inmost heart<br />
Holds me a man undoubted. There I'm stamped<br />
In honor's verity; and when I vow,<br />
By my soul's faith, that Charilus is safe,<br />
You know 'tis truth.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Be you our father's hostage,</span><br />
If this mad thing must be. Stay you with us,<br />
And we are silent.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Stay? You ask too much.</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> No fear, soft sister. Mark him. We're refused.<br />
He'll stuff the air with words, not clear it with<br />
One pinch of proof.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My lords, were I to stay,</span><br />
'Twould make an act of faith lose point and purpose,<br />
And blazon doubt before my father's face.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> You mark?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;"> 'Twould louder cry of war; uproot</span><br />
Love's seedling in its tenderest hour, and make<br />
Once more the bane and night-weed spring. But hear<br />
An oath of mine. If Charilus meet harm<br />
In Oswald's camp, I shall return and ask<br />
The same stroke from your hands.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">O, do not swear!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> By every hope I have to enter Heaven,<br />
By the right hand of God, by this white cross<br />
That knew my mother's last, death-holy kiss,<br />
By every sacred thing I know and love,<br />
If Charilus comes up these heights no more,<br />
Here shall I lay my life beneath your sword.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Barca re-enters right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> [<em>To Bertrand</em>] The master asks a word with you, my lord.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit Bertrand with Barca</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Will you accept his oath?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Go to your room.</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> We'll talk alone.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Nay, hear me first. You think</span><br />
To force me to the arms of Banissat.<br />
Give over that wild thought.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">'Twas not so wild</span><br />
An hour ago.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fate lifts the hand that laid</span><br />
Compulsion on me. I am free. O, free!<br />
No strait of life or death can make me less<br />
Than mistress of myself.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Our destiny</span><br />
Is bound with Banissat. Make him our foe,<br />
And where shall we find peace? Not on these peaks.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Is he our jailer then? This Banissat?<br />
Our prison his good favor? Nay, the world<br />
Has many roads, and courage even yet<br />
May blaze a new one.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Rooted life is best.</span><br />
I am not one to make my bed on winds,<br />
Or stroll the earth for fortune's grudgèd scraps<br />
Snatched from a rapier's point.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Know this. My hand</span><br />
Shall never lie in Banissat's. Give up<br />
A hope so barren. There's better pasturage<br />
For wits so bold as yours. Now Oswald holds<br />
The breadth of Suli plain, the heights of Tor,<br />
Winged by the sea from Ilon to Ramoor—<br />
A principality whose circuit leaves<br />
Avesta as a fly pinned to a wall.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> What's Oswald's fief to us? We are no sons of his.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Lord Bertrand holds the princedom here<br />
While Oswald goes to wars in Palestine.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> He told you this?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Did you not read as much</span><br />
In Oswald's letter? There 'twas plainly said.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Still is our surest hope with Banissat.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> When Bertram! is your friend? O, more than friend!<br />
A brother!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Ah ... do you say "brother"?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">True</span><br />
As though he had been born our father's son!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>To Vigard</em>] You hear?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">With more than ears.</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">We have been blind.</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> A brother!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">All is clear enough, now that</span><br />
We've eyes for it. Your pardon, sister.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Pardon?</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Pray you! We thought your scorn of Banissat<br />
Marked you of creeping spirit, when your aim<br />
Shot o'er our lowered eyes.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ay, she has sped</span><br />
Before our boldest care of her, and left<br />
Our duty lurching.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">These are drunken words.</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> If you would wed Lord Bertrand,——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">O, you think....</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Your hope has shown its wing. Best bid it fly.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Speak without fear. This changes all.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">You mean</span><br />
You'll not delay us? You will let us go?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> And speed you too! High stroke, this anxious hour<br />
To journey in his care!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Yet shielded by</span><br />
Our father's dignity.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">How you mistake!</span><br />
He does not woo me!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Now the modest foot!</span><br />
But we have seen the other. Trust us, sister.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Mistake? I now recall his looks, his sighs,<br />
As from a love immured,—his songs, too warm<br />
For piety's cool breath,—and more that tends<br />
To happy proof.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">How dare he woo thee when</span><br />
Mere Vairdelan? This blade had stood between!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Such beggar suit would then have cheapened thee<br />
Beneath a prince's wearing. [<em>Leading her to door, right</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">No drooping now!</span><br />
The way lies clear.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">O, brother——</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Get you in.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Will you not listen?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Leave your hope with us,</span><br />
Your secret is our own. [<em>Closes door upon her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Here's change of sky.</span><br />
You trust Lord Bertrand?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">That is now our course.</span><br />
Our father will go down.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">What's in your heart?</span><br />
I'll open mine.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> I beg you do.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ramoor</span><br />
And Ilon now are crownless. Suli's prince<br />
Must have new governors.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">But Christian ones.</span><br />
That bars our way.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The Prophet's cloak fits well</span><br />
With any fortune.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ah....</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">We've but to change</span><br />
The color, not the cut.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>Listening</em>] He comes!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">We'll speak.</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Not yet, my Vigard. Let this fruiting hope<br />
Swell to a golden fall. Wait with the sun.<br />
No green and forward plucking.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Ardia</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Hear me, brothers——</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Not now. The prince!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Re-enter Bertrand, right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I pray your answer, friends.</span><br />
Let us go down unhindered, and my oath<br />
I leave with you, a hostage sure as though<br />
With iron bonds you held my breathing form:<br />
For in that oath I leave no treasure less<br />
Than honor, knighthood, and what in me moves<br />
Deathless to God.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">It is enough. Our guest</span><br />
Is free.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Once more my brothers!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Know us ever</span><br />
By that dear name.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And this deep oath you take</span><br />
For Charilus' sake, is sworn too for our sister?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> For Ardia? No, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Do you say no?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> I must so answer you. For the fell harm<br />
That touches her would of myself make end.<br />
My honor so impeached would cease to breathe<br />
The air itself made foul. I could not come<br />
Having no life to bring me.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">We believe you.</span><br />
Go with our father. Take our sister too.<br />
And we upon these heights shall pray, as you<br />
On Suli plain, that Charilus may see<br />
His sons again.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Come, let him know! This wished<br />
Obedience will give him sleep.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exeunt Bertrand, Vigard, and Biondel, right rear</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Is 't best</span><br />
That Truth be dumb? I'll watch this weaving Fate,<br />
And feed her web with silence.... Oh, with hope!</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT II</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene 1.</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>First Ser.</em> Shifty, there!</p>
<p><em>Second Ser.</em> What, can't a soldier eat?</p>
<p><em>First Ser.</em> You a soldier, lickspoon?</p>
<p><em>Second Ser.</em> I've drawn a sword, sir!</p>
<p><em>First Ser.</em> Ay, and cut a cheese.</p>
<p><em>Third Ser.</em> [<em>Lifting flask</em>] Here's to——</p>
<p><em>Fourth Ser.</em> [<em>Seizing flask</em>] No man shall guzzle my master's
wine before me. [<em>Drains vessel</em>]</p>
<p><em>Third Ser.</em> [<em>Sadly, turning up empty flask</em>] Not after you,
either.</p>
<p><em>Fifth Ser.</em> Well, well, and two moons back we were
saying grace over ditch-water!</p>
<p><em>Sixth Ser.</em> 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.</p>
<p><em>First Ser.</em> [<em>Tugging at table</em>] Take a leg there! This is
no grasshopper. [<em>Others help him move table to wall, right</em>]
Look about you! The maskers will be in here.</p>
<p><em>Second Ser.</em> Here? They'll be everywhere to-night.
Such a jig-making over the new prince!</p>
<p><em>Second Ser.</em> Not a corner to drop into and sleep off a
good supper with a clear conscience!</p>
<p><em>Sixth Ser.</em> Sleep? What have we to do with sleep? We
fight, we eat, we dance. That's my soldier!</p>
<p><em>Second Ser.</em> We kill, we cut, we caper! [<em>Sings</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">The soldier rides on Fortune's wheel,</span></p>
<p><em>All.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Round we go,</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">Round we go!</span></p>
<p><em>Second Ser.</em> Now up the head and now the heel,</p>
<p><em>All.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Round we go,</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">Round——</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter seventh servant</em>]</p>
<p><em>Seventh Ser.</em> Quiet, you devils! The master's coming.</p>
<p><em>Second Ser.</em> 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?</p>
<p><em>Seventh Ser.</em> Sh! and I'll tell you what I've seen. I've
seen the daughter of Old Wisdom.</p>
<p><em>Sixth Ser.</em> He get a daughter!</p>
<p><em>Seventh Ser.</em> 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.</p>
<p><em>First Ser.</em> Foh, the Lady Berenice will put out her candle.</p>
<p><em>Seventh Ser.</em> The Lady Berenice is as like her as the
back of my hand to Juno's cheek!</p>
<p><em>First Ser.</em> A heathen comparison! There's a Christian
blow for it!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They scuffle. Enter Oswald in talk with Bertrand. Servants
finish their work quietly and go out</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> My heart is whole again, now you've escaped<br />
The claws of Kidmir.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Say the arms that closed</span><br />
Like God's around me!</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Fox, and lion too.</span><br />
That's Charilus. I knew him young,—when blood<br />
Tells nature's truth,—ere he had sucked<br />
Philosophy's pale milk and made his truce<br />
With prudence and long life. The heart then his<br />
He carries now——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then, sir, you must have known</span><br />
The Maker's marvel,—youth that outstripped age<br />
And grayest saints in virtue.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Tut! No matter.</span><br />
You're safe. And he is here ... within these walls.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> A guest of faith who holds your honor bound<br />
High hostage for his life.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My honor? Trust me!</span><br />
I'll care for that. No more I'll blush to lift<br />
My shield i' the sun. The spot of thirty years<br />
Shall be wiped out.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">With love, my father?</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> [<em>After a pause</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ay,</span><br />
'Tis love shall do it.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Lifting his father's hand to his lips</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">You bind my heart to you.</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Too soft, my warrior. Keep such woman's play<br />
For Berenice. She will thank you for it.<br />
I'm rough and old, and need the soldier clap<br />
To start the singing blood. [<em>Clapping Bertrand</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">A blow with good</span><br />
Red heart in 't!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Berenice?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ah, that takes you!</span><br />
She's here at last. Prince Frederick arrived<br />
Three days ago, and with him his fair daughter,<br />
Too dear of value to be left behind,<br />
The prey of quarrelling kings. You'll dance with her<br />
To-night.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> You'll pardon me. I shall not dance.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Faugh, there's the monk again! Why, boy, we'll pray<br />
The better for a little tripping,—fight<br />
The better too. One dance with Berenice!<br />
A beauty, sir, who makes me hate the years<br />
That lie 'tween youth and me. She was to wed<br />
A son of mine by vow above her cradle,<br />
And I have buried every son save you.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> May I not keep one vow?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">The pope long since</span><br />
Released you. Now——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">My compact was with Christ.</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Why cling to one when all the rest are broken?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> It is the one lies wholly in my choice.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> You left your cell.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Do you forget 'twas you</span><br />
Who shook to ground my cloister walls, and locked<br />
All holy doors against me?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">True, I did it.</span><br />
And with good warrant. Broadest Christendom<br />
Upheld my right and gave me back my heir.<br />
Small gain if you refuse to wed. My need<br />
Is not for sons but grandsons now. My boy,<br />
You'll let me see your children at my knee?<br />
Ho, hide your face? Then there's a heart in you.<br />
Why should I toil through blood and groans and fire<br />
To make a name my shroud will wrap with me?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Toil then to give this land to God, and live<br />
So long as love shall live in men.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Pale fame!</span><br />
Have you no blood of mine? How could my fire<br />
Father this sluggish monk? There was a maid<br />
On Kidmir, Charilus' daughter, who has come<br />
In wag of him, which speaks a fearless wench,—<br />
She taught you nothing in those moons you passed<br />
Upon her peaks?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sir?</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">When I saw her face</span><br />
Flash from her veil, I could have sworn<br />
Your vow was drowned in her lake-eyes, and that<br />
Her captured softness had made easy way<br />
For royal Berenice. Now you talk<br />
Out of your cowl——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Not so! I am a knight!<br />
Your words have made me one! Now could I draw<br />
This sword that knows not blood——</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I'll bout with thee</span><br />
For any woman. Come! Thou'lt be a man<br />
Ere long. Come, sir!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You've set a foot most foul</span><br />
Upon the flower of time!</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">It seems I've hit</span><br />
The mark i' the very eye.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">The whitest thought</span><br />
That holds her first must shrive itself!</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">So, so!</span><br />
Come, end the song. She's yours. 'Tis not the moon<br />
You cry for, take an old man's word.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">The moon</span><br />
Were nearer to me!</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Trrr-rrr-rr!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">My lord?</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> A woman. Ask and have. I'll send her here.<br />
This is the hour to bait you, and I'd not lose it<br />
For half of Suli.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Stay! I will not see her.</span><br />
I dare not look upon her lest I lose<br />
Christ and myself.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Are you so tuned? We'll have</span><br />
A wedding yet.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Forget that word, and I<br />
Forgive you for it.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">A wedding, prince of Suli.</span><br />
This plain shall ring to Antioch.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nay, father,—</span><br />
And yet I thank you that your heart would make<br />
So fair a maid my bride.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Fair? That's no word.</span><br />
She's glory's darling pearl,—the morning's eye<br />
That makes the night forgot! When you have seen her——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> When I have seen her?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ay,——</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Do you not speak</span><br />
Of Ardia?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Ardia! Gods! Wed Kidmir's trull?<br />
Make me a doting grandsire to the heir<br />
Of Charilus? Hear it, stars! Am I the fool<br />
O' the earth? Give up my English forests, bare<br />
My purse for troops, and foot by foot fight way<br />
To Suli sands,—all this that I may set<br />
A droning dotard's line upon a throne,<br />
And be the ass of chronicle? O, poison!<br />
Well, well, I'm done. The girl is fair enough.<br />
And you shall have her if she pleases you.<br />
But Berenice—there's your bride, my boy!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Wed Berenice? With that name you save me.<br />
By that I see the darkness coiling deep<br />
Along my bridal way. 'Twas Ardia's name<br />
That lit the path till I dared let my eyes,<br />
Though not my will, go venturing on 't.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">My son,——</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Never again, my father, speak to me<br />
In this night's strain. Till morning I shall pray.<br />
And then I fast. Good-night.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">One moment. One!</span><br />
The sunrise feast? Will you not be with us?<br />
I drink with Charilus the cup of peace.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> And love that breaks no peace?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> [<em>Assenting</em>] See how you bend me?<br />
All that you ask I give, but you to me<br />
Yield nothing.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Sir, this sword, my knightly suit,<br />
And princely title, make denial for me.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Your pardon. I forget you count it much<br />
To give a crust and cell for this broad kingdom.<br />
I who have paid my heart out for a crown<br />
Must thank you now to wear it.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Good-night.</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">O, son,</span><br />
Have you no patience with a man grown old<br />
In many battles? Now feel I my age,<br />
Knowing the dearest blows of my long life<br />
Have bought me but this shadow. In you is drained<br />
Ambition's heart,—my every burning aim<br />
Fails here in you, and cools unforged, unshapen.<br />
Yet do you turn from me as though 'twere I<br />
Not you who gave the wound that parts us.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">I?</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Of all my sons I loved you best. You think<br />
I gave you to the friars with no twinge<br />
Here at my heart? Your mother said "One son<br />
We must return to God," and I said "Yea,<br />
So it be not my Bertrand." But her will<br />
Ran 'gainst me. When she had her way, I longed<br />
Through many a day to have you at my side,<br />
While you were happy with your songs and saints,<br />
Your father quite forgot.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Stirred</em>] Nay, not forgot.<br />
And I am with you now.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">O, let me feel</span><br />
My son is mine! I'll yield you anything.<br />
Ay, even Ardia! She shall be my daughter——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> By heaven that keeps me true, I will not hear<br />
That name again! There's maddest music in it.<br />
I see her when I hear it. [<em>Covering his eyes</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> [<em>Aside</em>] <span style="margin-left: 2em;">I see the lime</span><br />
Will catch you.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Again, good-night.</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">One favor, son.</span><br />
And slight too, by 'r lady!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Speak it, sir.</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> I gave my word you'd wait on Berenice.<br />
I' faith, I know not what excuse to make<br />
To Frederick. 'Tis barest courtesy<br />
To give her greeting.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I will welcome her,</span><br />
Our guest.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Enough! [<em>Going</em>] You'll wait us here?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">I'll wait.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<p class="noidt">
What save winds shall kiss his bones<br />
Bleaching on the desert stones?<br />
What but waves o'er him shall sigh<br />
Who doth drownèd sea-deep lie?<br />
What save worms to him shall come<br />
Locked in earth, bound, keyless, dumb?<br />
<br />
Wild the wind and cold the wave,<br />
Sharp the tooth within the grave!<br />
Be such kisses for my ghost,<br />
Heart, my Heart, when thou art lost!<br />
Love me, Love, an hour and we<br />
Mock the cold eternity!
</p>
</div></div>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Taking up a flower</em>] Eternity in this?</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Ardia enters. He does not see her until she speaks</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Prince Bertrand?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You?</span><br />
Not Berenice!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Ah ... you wait for her?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Who brought you here?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The earl. Your father.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">He!</span><br />
What said he?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> That you prayed to see me, sir.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> O, faithless! He deceived you.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I will go.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Stay—tell me—how you fare.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Nay, you await</span><br />
The princess.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> You've all comfort? No least lack?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I've food and bed, but little company.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> My father's plans press hard, and I'm a part<br />
Of them. Each hour he calls me.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I know, my lord,</span><br />
This is not Kidmir. I've my father too.<br />
You've yours ... and Berenice.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Nay, it seems</span><br />
Fate hath her changelings. You have come, not she.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I sought no meeting, sir, but being here,<br />
I'll ask you of my father. Is he safe?<br />
Earl Oswald means no treachery to his guest?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> At sunrise he will drink the cup of peace.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> That's hours away! He knows your life is pledged<br />
For Charilus' safety?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">No. I will not wake</span><br />
A doubt against his honor.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">He should know.</span><br />
I've seen his eyes. Good hap, you have your mother's.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> If he be vile as you so fear he is,<br />
My pledge would be no leash to his hold will.<br />
He'd chain me here till he destroyed your brothers.<br />
Let him know naught, I'm free to keep my oath.<br />
But this should not be spoken. We do wrong<br />
To talk of things that have no being save<br />
In our own midnight fears.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Well, I shall sleep.</span><br />
Good-night, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Am I not Vairdelan?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Ay, when you smile so.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">[<em>Holds out her hands, and drops them untouched</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Far, O far from Kidmir!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Yea, an eternal journey my lost soul<br />
May find it. Ardia, counsel me. Two ways<br />
Stretch long before me, and I faint<br />
In daring either. Give me of your strength.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> My strength? I have none.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">You have God's.</span><br />
Men, proud in valor, stray and lose his hand;<br />
The woman holds it ever, walking floods<br />
And trampling fire where men go down.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Tell me!</span><br />
How may I help you?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Sit then. I will speak.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>She sits; He stands near her</em>]</span><br />
I have agreed to be the sovereign<br />
Of sword-won Suli.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">None will better serve</span><br />
Where he is master. O, this spear-torn land<br />
Shall flower to heaven and mate her bloom with stars!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> A bloom that dies with me?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Death cannot make</span><br />
The spirit barren.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>At distance</em>] Through me my father hopes<br />
To found a princely house o'er-topping Asia<br />
With Christ-lit towers.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Oh!... Then you will wed.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>His eyes down</em>] My bride is chosen.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Chosen? [<em>Sits again</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Nay.... I know....</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Returning</em>] Your hidden eyes hide not the loathing there<br />
For me forsworn. Why have I troubled you?<br />
Look on me, Ardia. I am not yet fallen.<br />
I take your answer. You have chosen my way,<br />
And I set forth upon it—<em>not</em> forsworn.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> That word is naught. I do not think of it.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Must man not keep his pledge?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">To mortals, yes.</span><br />
For so our lives are knit, and part to part<br />
Keep sound and whole. But pledges unto God<br />
Man cannot make or keep till he may bind<br />
The Will that journeys with the launchèd world.<br />
So might His rivers say "Here will we rest,<br />
And worship thee," nor run into the sea,<br />
And God must be content though all his fields<br />
Burn waterless. So might the winds vow Him<br />
Unbroken calm, and God who needs his storms<br />
Must still his own desire while his dear earth<br />
Goes pestilent.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Unsentient things! He shares<br />
His will with man.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> But not to enslave his own.<br />
Christ seals no bond the lips lay on the soul<br />
That is each instant new as life, as change,<br />
As the importuning world. Ah, he who sells<br />
To one hour's narrow need the zenith light<br />
Of unborn days would snuff out time and know<br />
No rising sun. Himself would be a slavedom<br />
Where never Christ would walk.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Is 't Ardia speaks?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Truth speaks, not I. If man must vow,<br />
Let it not be to love no woman,—wear<br />
The vest of fire, and in a sunless cell<br />
Chain Heaven-arteried life,—then peering out,<br />
Cling to the nested eaves transfixed to see<br />
His fled desires wear the horizon flame.<br />
But let him vow his Christ shall shrink no vein<br />
Of broad and pauseless being; ay,—shall keep<br />
Sweet surgence with his blood, climb with his spirit<br />
Time's lifting hills, and hold in watch with him<br />
The unshrouding pinnacles where love puts off<br />
The old clouds for the dawn. Forsworn? O, heart<br />
Cell-bound, thy very vows deny thy Christ.<br />
Who serve him wear no chains.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">You think me true?</span><br />
And yet I felt your wounded, doubting eyes<br />
Raining me scorn. Why was it, Ardia?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Scorn?</span><br />
I have forgot why 'twas—or shall forget.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> And there was pity too, that dropped your lids.<br />
And would have sheltered me. Is that forgot?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Nay, that.... I'll tell you that. I thought of Love,<br />
Man's angel, and the heart-lone way of him<br />
Who missed and found her not. Never to take<br />
More courage from the fall of her sure feet<br />
On heights that wind between death and the stars;<br />
Or where his road burns through the shadeless sands,<br />
Reach for the hand with fountains in its touch<br />
And feel the palm-breath round him. Not to know<br />
Her eyes when night is come, and there's no star;<br />
Her breast, that pillowing the darkened waste,<br />
Keeps warm the bitten earth and gives him dream<br />
To meet and match the dawn. So wept my thoughts,<br />
Forgetting that you are no wanderer,<br />
But kingly housed will rule a tamèd realm.<br />
Or should a harvest come of spears, not grain,<br />
Yet is your princess brave and beautiful,<br />
And bears, may be, a mating heart. Love then<br />
Will come to you——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My princess?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Berenice.</span><br />
Your father's choice ... and yours.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">My Ardia! Mine!</span><br />
Could such a lie creep to your soul and find<br />
No lances at the door? [<em>Kneels, kissing her hands</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">My love, my love, my love!</span><br />
Let honors fail, and stars forget my name,<br />
'Tis thou shalt walk beside me, thou my chosen!<br />
I'll hear thy footfall on the winter steep,<br />
And take thy hand where desert noons are white,<br />
But close thy breast shall lie upon my heart,<br />
Nor pillow the bitten waste, my own, my own!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>She moves from him. He rises</em>]</span><br />
Why are you silent, pale, and heaven-still?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I must be still. I've mourned my heart-walls thin.<br />
This joy will break them. Joy to hear your voice<br />
With love's mate-music in it cry to me.<br />
My joy! I'll drink it all, nor lose one drop,<br />
For I shall have no more.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">No more? No less</span><br />
Than life can hold!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Hear me, my lord.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">You love me!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I shall not be your wife.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">You're mine—all mine!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> You hold your vow yet sacred, breaking it<br />
By the sole might of love. You do not feel<br />
The vision round you in whose light that vow<br />
Falls like a grave-cloth from an angel's limbs.<br />
Ah, Christ would be no bridal guest of ours,<br />
Shut out by your heart's fear.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">[<em>He stands as if stricken</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">You see 'tis true.</span><br />
You listen for his sanction, and you hear<br />
The ring of your own vow.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>He sits bowed</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">You hear it now</span><br />
Above your passion's chime. 'Twill fill the air<br />
When love's mad bells grow quiet, and your soul<br />
Asks the old question. Let me then be far<br />
From thee, nor stay to be a claspèd fire<br />
Eating thy side.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You'll heal me of my fear.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">[<em>Reaching his hands to her</em>]</span><br />
My fountain and my palm!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Your doubt would stir</span><br />
Beneath your tenderest deep. My nearing step<br />
Would as a trumpet start its buried storm<br />
To sweep our meeting eyes.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">If Christ would give</span><br />
A sign,—leave me no choice,—no other way</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> The torch of Fate but blinds us when the heart<br />
Beareth no light.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Not Fate, but Heaven—there</span><br />
I'd read my sign.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hope not, my lord, that Heaven</span><br />
Will drive me to your arms. Farewell.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">No, no!</span><br />
To keep you I'll dare hell——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Dare hell? My love</span><br />
Walks not that fiery verge, but waits thine own<br />
In regions nearer God. There we shall meet,<br />
And there will be no hell.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">[<em>Turns to go, but is drawn back by his grief</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Thou art a prince</span><br />
Of Christ. Arise and rule this land for him.<br />
There is no sin in you. You've kissed my hands,<br />
And they are bright as stars!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">O, can you go?</span><br />
You do not love me. In your breast are wings—<br />
No heart, but wings that seek the mountain sky.<br />
Go perch above me, leave me dying here.<br />
And cool your bosom with a virgin song<br />
To mateless heaven!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Who is cruel now?</span><br />
You have the world to feed on, need not eat<br />
Your heart as I must—I, the woman. Dear,<br />
Where Kidmir cliffs climb highest to the sky<br />
I'll keep my watch, but thou shall rise above me<br />
In thought of men. O'er all discerning shall<br />
Thy purpose wing, perhaps be drunk of clouds,<br />
But light shall follow where thine aim has sped,<br />
And leading upward with your comrade world,<br />
My Kidmir shall seem lowly, where I walk<br />
With stintless ache beneath the cedar boughs<br />
On pain's moon nights. And oh, the Springs to pass,<br />
When each bride-bud shall be a wound to me,<br />
When grasses young, and softly pushing moss,<br />
Shall urge my feet like fire, and I must stand<br />
Quite still ... quite still ... with all my unborn babes<br />
Dead in my heart.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Motionless</em>] You dare not leave me now.<br />
You dare not, Ardia.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I dare not stay.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>As she nears the great doors they rumble shut and are
noisily barred without</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Ho! Open, open, open! I pray you, open!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">[<em>Beats on door, then leans to the silence</em>]</span><br />
Shut in ... shut in! So Oswald's treachery<br />
Begins with me. My father, we are lost.<br />
You are to die, and I—to-morrow, oh,<br />
My honor will go wasting on the fields<br />
With every soldier's breath! You hear, my lord?<br />
We are shut in....</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The miracle!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Together....</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> The sign! the sign!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">For all the night....</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">For all</span><br />
Eternity! There is no other way.<br />
I take you as from Christ. My bride, my bride!</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<p><br /><br /></p>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene 2.</span> <em>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.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> 'Tis morning. Bertrand! You have watched all night?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> O, there has been no night.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">I slept it through.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Thy body slept, but thou hast been with me<br />
O'er all the world, and farther than the world,<br />
Out where the life begins.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">That may be true,</span><br />
For I had wondrous dreams.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You speak of dreams?</span><br />
A magic touched me, and I woke from dream<br />
Knowing my life. What ways we went! All things<br />
Seemed new, warm with the Maker's hand, as young<br />
As our own eyes, but 'twas eternity<br />
That kept them sweet, unaging.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">It was Love</span><br />
Who gave thee eyes to see the world immortal<br />
Even in our own.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Do all Love's votaries</span><br />
Walk with such magic sight?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">In truth! I've seen</span><br />
A beggar woman tread the road-side dust<br />
As it were showered gold, because she had<br />
Love's eyes. And we—what joys our joy shall find!<br />
The pearling skies with rose-breath drinking ours<br />
'Tween sea and dawn! The leaves that turn i' the wind<br />
And tremble in our hearts—the brook-song that<br />
Began beyond the stars—the woodland nests,<br />
Breast-warm——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And one is ours.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">The lark that leaves</span><br />
His meadow-mate and reels at the sun's door<br />
Dropping his song of fire and clover-dew<br />
Down to her heart.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Kissing her</em>] As this in thine!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">And all</span><br />
Life's dearer-veinèd joys,—the way-side hands<br />
That pluck to camp-fire glow,—the smile of age,<br />
Gift-sweet and wise beside the garner door——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Ay, dear are these ... but when we came again<br />
From that far, holy place....</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Ah, in your dream.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Where no words go or come....</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">When we came back?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Walking the light between the parted stars,<br />
And met the days that knew us ... naught could hide<br />
The eternal joy within it. Twas a world<br />
Whose beauty lay allwheres. O, not alone<br />
In morning skies and mated larks a-wing!<br />
Each rag-hung thing was dipped in chosen time<br />
And wore its royal hour.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">If that could be!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> What seers, what eyes of light, outshone the pain<br />
That gave them being! Tears that silvered graves<br />
Globed in their pearl the immortal hope of men,<br />
And seemed as beautiful as prophecy<br />
Burning in its own truth. Ay, where a man<br />
Fell murdered, crying "I forgive," the ground<br />
Sprang as a garden——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Murdered? O, not that!<br />
How could you say it? I had forgot, forgot!<br />
Love in your dream looked you quite through the soul<br />
Of Time on things to be? What saw you then?<br />
Ah, tell me!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Then?... Then came this dimmer light<br />
Which you called morning, and I saw no more.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I would I knew!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You fear even now?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">O, me!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Sweet, leave these shadows—dreams of ancient night<br />
That cling too late upon a day-warm world.<br />
Must I persuade you still that Oswald means<br />
Our happiness?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Hark you! They come, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> The sunrise feast. Fit place and time to break<br />
The fast of love.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">O, hear! So many feet!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Dear trembler, do not fear.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">They're here, my lord.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Welcome the world. It has no eye can make<br />
Our own seek earth.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I am forgiven?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Forgiven!</span><br />
Ask God and Love! I'll thank you all my life<br />
That you did force me take my only way<br />
To Heaven.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Hmm! And I spent a bitter night<br />
Fearing your morning face.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It was my soul's</span><br />
Birth-night.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> God bless me, you are grateful, sir.<br />
But you've good reason. [<em>Looks at Ardia</em>] I had no such mate<br />
To make the dark hours fly.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Pray speak to her.</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> In my good time.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nay, now!</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">The day is long.</span><br />
I shall be gentle, for I owe her much<br />
Who gives me back my son. Come to our guests.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Does Frederick——</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ay, he knows all, and bears</span><br />
No grudge.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Knows all?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He clapped my plot as though</span><br />
His own thick noll had hatched it.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And the princess——</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> You see her smile? There's answer for you.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come!</span><br />
No blush! Put on a face. Your bridal news<br />
Shall sauce our banquet.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>They move to guests</em>]</p>
<p><em>Fred.</em> [<em>To Bertrand</em>] Greet you, sir! But why<br />
So pale, my lord? I fear me you have spent<br />
A sleepless night.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Ay, as the stars.</span></p>
<p><em>A Lord.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">The stars?</span><br />
He winked then, by the rood!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">What do you say?</span></p>
<p><em>Lord.</em> I say the stars do wink, most gracious prince.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Come, find your seats, my friends! Yet two of us,<br />
Lord Charilus and my unworthy self<br />
Must keep our feet till we have drunk the wine<br />
Made sacrosanct by one night's rest upon<br />
The Virgin's altar.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Bertrand places Ardia's seat by her father, who stands at
the left of Oswald</em>]</p>
<p><span style="margin-left: 6em;">You, fair Berenice,</span><br />
Sit at my right, and on your other side<br />
The graceless prince of Suli begs for room.</p>
<p><em>Bere.</em> He beg, my lord? I have not heard his tongue,<br />
And for his eyes, I fear no leek of Wales<br />
Could pull a beggar's tear from them to oil<br />
This suit. But he is welcome.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Taking seat by her</em>] Thank you, lady.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>When all are seated save Charilus and Oswald a priest
enters bearing a chalice of wine which he places on table
before Oswald</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> This is the cup by angels visited<br />
In night's deep hours. Herein they dropped the peace<br />
Of Heaven, which Charilus and I shall take<br />
Into our hearts. I know in truth it holds<br />
Sweet peace for me—the peace that thirty years<br />
My veins have ached for. Charilus, what say you?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> My heart can hold no more of peace than now<br />
Doth fill it, but I drink with you, my lord.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Drinks from goblet which Oswald has filled from chalice,
and Oswald drinks from goblet filled by Charilus</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> [<em>Dropping his glass</em>] Is peace a fire?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">I' faith, this kindles me!</span><br />
Thou smileless priest, take off the Virgin's cup!<br />
You think it needs another blessing, sir,<br />
Since my bold hand has touched it? Out with you!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">[<em>Exit priest with chalice</em>]</span><br />
That pinch-face has seen hell and fasts to keep<br />
The ghost down. I'll not fast. Set to, my friends.<br />
Fill up your bowls, for I've a health for you.<br />
We drink to Berenice, bride to be<br />
Of Bertrand, prince of Suli and my son!</p>
<p><em>A Lord.</em> [<em>As all lift their glasses</em>]<br />
We pledge the bride of Bertrand—Berenice!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Drink not, my lords, till you have changed that name<br />
To Ardia, daughter of our noble guest,<br />
Lord Charilus!</p>
<p><em>Fred.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] If this be sport, Earl Oswald,<br />
A world of groans shall pay for 't!</p>
<p><em>Bere.</em> [<em>In mock swoon</em>] Oh.... I faint....</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Her ladies help her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> You bawling ass! You thousand times a fool!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>To Oswald</em>] You've woven a maze about me, and I'm blind<br />
With 't, yet I see to pluck one truth,—my bride<br />
Is Ardia. No other under Heaven! My lords,<br />
It is the wine——</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Would then 'twere in your throat!</span><br />
Is this the riddle of your morning smile?<br />
Your fair compliance, soft submission? Sir,<br />
By my heart's blood, I'll give you to the sword<br />
Ere you shall make me father to a drab—<br />
The spoil of your own lust, the—What, you draw?<br />
Ay, strike me down! Let me be first to fall<br />
Beneath your mighty sword! The rust has lain<br />
A lifetime on it, and a father's blood<br />
May cleanse it bright as Heaven!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">O, my Christ!</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Yea, call on him, and he will hear thee too,<br />
Who honorest so thy father!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">[<em>Bertrand stands speechless</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Now, my lords,</span><br />
Since he no longer brays, I have a tale<br />
To tell you. I, too, had a father, though<br />
The world has long forgot him.</p>
<p><em>Fred.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">No, my friend.</span><br />
Well do I bear in mind his fair, proud face,<br />
And glory of his arms.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He was struck down</span><br />
Because a minion, straying from the hearth,<br />
Looked on his beauty with her nestling eyes.</p>
<p><em>Fred.</em> For no more cause?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I swear it. Friends, if death</span><br />
Were the cold price for kissing of a jade,<br />
Who here would be alive? For so slight sin<br />
Was my brave father murdered. Charilus, speak!<br />
Was not the princely heart of John of Clyffe<br />
Ripped with a hate-keen sword,—the sword of him<br />
Who claimed the lordship of those rebel lips<br />
That chose my father liege?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is too true.</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Who better knows? Say that a wilding flies<br />
The builded bower, hearing a lordlier song<br />
Pass on the wind than her dull mate can tune,<br />
Must then the singer die, who scarcely knows<br />
His song is heard, or that a bold wing follows?</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Whether the earl of Clyffe sang then to woo,<br />
As I believe, or for the love of song,<br />
As you do say, my lord,—his death was sin,<br />
And he who wrought that woe shed tears enough<br />
To clear his stain, if tears may whiten souls.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> A murderer's tears! But what of mine, the son's?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Your oath—your honor, sir! Where is the love<br />
You swore should cleanse your shield?</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Safe in my heart.</span><br />
And burning for my father.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">God of pity!</span></p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> That was the love I spoke of.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">All be deaf</span><br />
But hell!</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> Hear the full tale, my friends. I swear<br />
The earl of Clyffe died for no more offence<br />
Than I have here set out,—and I, his only son,<br />
Kissed his red wounds and from his breast unbound<br />
This bloody scarf— [<em>taking scarf from his bosom</em>] that then was crimson, now<br />
In age-grown black bemourns my step that comes<br />
So sluggish to revenge. For thirty years<br />
Had passed ere I beheld his murderer,<br />
Then face to face we stood ... and face to face<br />
We stand ... for this is he, this Charilus<br />
Of Kidmir—peace-lipped Cain—gray hypocrite,<br />
Whose blood is honey in his veins, whose eyes<br />
Stare on the world as he were some bland god<br />
Who made it and said "good."</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Sir, I would send</span><br />
My daughter to her brothers. Grant me this.<br />
And I am ready for what death you please.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I will not go. One sword shall strike us both.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<em>Turns to Oswald</em>]</span><br />
But first a word to you. When Charilus falls,<br />
Say farewell to your son. He pledged his life<br />
To my two brothers for our father's safety,<br />
And you, who know him least, yet know he'll keep<br />
That pledge.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> What, creature, will you lie?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I speak</span><br />
The truth. Strike, if you can, this gray old man,<br />
Silvered in service to the one high God,<br />
Sinless as sunlight, fair in sweetened age,—<br />
Let forth his sainted blood, and Bertrand lives<br />
No longer than the shortest time between<br />
Suli and Kidmir.</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">That's a lifetime then!</span><br />
He shall not step! I'll have him hung with chains<br />
Till he is fast as rooted oaks in earth!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Stunned</em>] A guest betrayed....</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Betrayed? I promised him</span><br />
Such treatment as he gave my blood. And he<br />
Shall have it—death!</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> Peace be my heir!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Takes stand by Charilus</em>] Death, sir?<br />
First break this sword! Thy sin must be unnamed<br />
Until the angel who doth write thee damned<br />
Gives it foul christening. I break my pledge.<br />
I will not go to Kidmir. Here I'll give<br />
My life for Charilus.</p>
<p><em>Char.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">No blow for me!</span><br />
O, may I unavengèd lie forgot,<br />
And my forgiving blood make barren ground<br />
Alive with asphodel——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nay, I will strike,</span><br />
Though a father's sword meet mine!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Charilus trembles, and supports himself by Ardia's arm</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Commend me, stars!</span><br />
You counselled well. [<em>To Bertrand</em>] Fool, do not draw. There's none<br />
Will run against you. Charilus is dead,<br />
And by a way more sure. His holy goblet<br />
Held one rich drop the angels put not there<br />
Nor Virgin blessed. See how he pales—and stares—<br />
And cannot get his voice? So are we spared<br />
A swan-song homily trickling through his beard.<br />
Be off, old pray-lip—off, and take with you<br />
Your cat-foot peace and milky piety!<br />
I serve a vengeful God who armeth men<br />
For his own wars!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Heaven, draw thy clouds about thee!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Charilus dies in Ardia's arms</em>]</p>
<p><em>Osw.</em> He's dead! The air of earth is sweet again.<br />
I have no enemy!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Looking up from the body</em>] You have no son.</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT III</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>On Kidmir Pass. Moonlight paling to dawn. Ardia alone,
struggling up the Pass.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Looking back</em>] They do not follow. I am safe from that. [<em>Sits on a rock</em>]<br />
Why should I climb? There is no rest up there.<br />
But there is death, mayhap,—and that is worth<br />
The sorest climbing. O, my father dear,<br />
Is 't thy dead self so heavy on my heart?<br />
Thou shouldst be light upon thy spirit wings,<br />
And give me of thy freedom.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<em>Gaina enters from above</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">Gaina, hast found</span><br />
The spring?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> 'Tis farther up.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">More steps.</span></p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Wait here.</span><br />
Barca will bring you drink. Nay, sit you still.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I must. How this weak body masters us,<br />
Cooling the bravest will that in strong limbs<br />
Might dance to any goal! Yet do we say<br />
The will is lord, whose flush is in the blood<br />
And fades wi' the paling body. By that lie<br />
We cling to Heaven and immortality.<br />
... O, I am lost so deep I need not fear<br />
The farthest bolt of God! Out, out the pale<br />
Of his concern!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Why now, honey dear!<br />
A sip of fine spring water and you'll be<br />
A lark o' the morning! All's not bad, I say.<br />
There's Banissat would marry you to-morrow!<br />
What pretty words he spoke, and took us in<br />
Like a good father—but I saw him look!<br />
And he were shaved he'd have a merry eye.<br />
Such meal and honey! <em>I've</em> a thankful tooth!<br />
Come now, what say you? Run from such a fortune,<br />
And stumbling is no matter. Ay, a trip<br />
Or two were well enough.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Yes, foolish 'twas</span><br />
To fly from Banissat.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You know it? Well, well,</span><br />
If it's your own right mind you've run to, dearie,<br />
There's no harm done past mending.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Taking a small dagger from her dress</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 16em;">This had saved</span><br />
My feet these weary steps.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Sweet Mary, save us!</span><br />
Wouldst slay a prince for loving thee?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">No, wretch.</span><br />
I could not take another's life though 'twere<br />
Of all the world the foulest.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Bless the lass!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> But out of pity I could take my own.<br />
Why should my heart beat on and labor so<br />
For merest leave to beat again?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Now, now!</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Enter Barca</em>]</span><br />
Here's Barca, praise the saints! Now you'll take heart!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Ardia takes gourd from Barca and drinks</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Thanks, Barca. But there's misery in the draught<br />
That makes me keen again. I fear me I'll<br />
Yet hope.</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Will you walk on?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Yes, come.</span></p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> [<em>Listening</em>] What's that?<br />
A noise below!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Some one from Banissat!</span><br />
I'll not be taken!</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> Come aside, my lady.<br />
Here is good hiding.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>They go behind a great rock half hidden by cedars. Bertrand
enters below. Ardia steps out and stands before
him. He kneels</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Spirit, hast come for me? I'll join thee, love,<br />
When I have climbed this peak and met the sword<br />
That sets my honor free.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Nay, rise, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Rising</em>] Thy living self? Here in the night alone?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Barca is here, and Gaina.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Sweet, the moon</span><br />
Makes thee so fair.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Smiling</em>] Was I not always fair?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> [<em>Embracing her</em>] My living love! Sit here,—and now thy story.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I'll shorten it to get to thine.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">You had</span><br />
The dagger that I sent you? [<em>She shows it to him</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">My sole gift</span><br />
To love.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O, it was dear as death then seemed<br />
To me!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Cast it away.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">No, for love's sake</span><br />
I'll keep it, and it shall do no work save God's.<br />
Listen ... it prophesies.... I'll need it yet.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> O, I was mad to send it! Would you wreck<br />
This tent set fair upon the soul's long road,<br />
By pain-craft wrought of every whiter dream,<br />
Where God may sit with us and map the winds<br />
That forward blow and back, the paths laid free<br />
To His far end, and those where blind walls rise<br />
Breast-piled with thwarted dust? Dear soul of me,<br />
Would we know Heaven we must listen here,<br />
And one word lost may mean a path all dark<br />
When we fare outward. This is not for you,<br />
This fear-born blade. Away with it!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 6em;">[<em>She clasps it closer</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 13em;">Is not</span><br />
Your danger past?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Not while Avesta loves.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> O God! But tell me now the full, foul story,—<br />
Yet not all foul, since you are here alive.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Your father——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I've no father!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;"> —sent me forth</span><br />
With my two servants. When we reached Avesta,<br />
The prince met us with welcome, much too warm<br />
Methought, so in the night we stole away<br />
And reached the pass—all with some wit and care,<br />
As you shall know hereafter. Now your word.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> I was imprisoned.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Yes, I know.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">A guard</span><br />
Gave me his sword. I fought the others.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Fought?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> And killed. Look on this blade.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">A brother's blood.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> My love!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">At last I am Earl Oswald's son!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> My Bertrand! [<em>Drawing aside his cloak</em>]<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">You are wounded! Vairdelan!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> That name is no more mine.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">How did you pass</span><br />
Avesta?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> The guards were friends of Vairdelan.<br />
I used the stainless name that I had lost.<br />
O, I have lied to keep my word, and slew<br />
That I might die!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Might die? You mean ... my brothers.<br />
They must be merciful.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">With Charilus slain?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O, me! I too shall die. And that is best,<br />
If anything we do be worst or best.<br />
I've read within my father's secret script<br />
That earth shall lose its heart of fire, and lie<br />
Dead-cold and dark with no green thing upon it.<br />
Then this black crust shall bear no form of man,<br />
Nor trace of him. Why then such ceaseless pain<br />
To look a little longer on the sun,<br />
When he who seals his eyes this day with dust<br />
But leagues with time to reach the journey's end<br />
Without the journey's ache?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Hast lost thy faith?</span><br />
My heart, say earth must be its own still grave,<br />
Our destiny lies farther. But were life<br />
A march to naught, I'd choose it for the sake<br />
Of one bright wonder by the way—your love,<br />
My Ardia.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> You love me, yet would die. Thou'rt mine!<br />
And I will hold thee, yea, on this warm earth,<br />
Not in some strange and tearless world!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>While they speak Barca moves up the pass and listens</em>]</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">My lord?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Ay, Barca?</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Men are on the pass.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Above?</span><br />
My brothers! Oh!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I go to meet them.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Stay!</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> They shall not come to me. I go to them.<br />
My honor, love, my honor!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">O, men, men!</span><br />
You build a shrine to love and ask us fling<br />
Our lives, our souls into it. Once within,<br />
The door forever shut, there sits a god,<br />
A monster-god, your honor, and we must sue<br />
For barest room to stand or crouch or kneel<br />
Where by your oaths we should be sovereign.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> The shrine itself is honor, dear, my heart.<br />
That gone, we have indeed no holy place<br />
To shelter love. Was 't not yourself who said<br />
That man to man must keep his pledge?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Ah me,</span><br />
That shining night! That night of golden wings!<br />
And now comes this. Can such two nights be born<br />
In the same world, and but one sun between?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">[<em>Bertrand staggers</em>]</span><br />
You're bleeding still!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Fast, fast.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">My veil——</span><br />
I'll wrap you with it! [<em>Binds wound</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Thanks, for I would live<br />
To die upon their swords.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Wait, wait, my lord!</span><br />
O, do not meet them in their first deep rage——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Farewell!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> You shall not see them till my prayers<br />
Have turned their hearts from blood.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Part thou with hope</span><br />
And pain will leave thee too. That is the wrench,<br />
Not death.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Stay, stay! Are there not miracles yet?<br />
I'll hide you yonder till——</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">They come!</span></p>
<p> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Hurries up pass, staggers and falls</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">He faints!</span><br />
The miracle begins! Here, Barca, Gaina,<br />
Bear him aside. He swift! Then come to me.<br />
O, gently, Barca! Haste!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">[<em>Barca draws Bertrand behind the rocks</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">He shall be saved!</span><br />
Thou'lt not deny me, Heaven! O, forget<br />
That ever I blasphemed Thee!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter, above, Biondel and Vigard</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Who is here?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> My brothers!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ardia, by my life!</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">'Tis she.</span><br />
What do you here?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I go to you. Where else</span><br />
Shall I find shelter in a world now bare<br />
Save where your hearts make gentle room for me?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> What do you mean? Where is our father?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Speak!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> You have not heard? Why then do you go down?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> For word of Charilus. No messenger<br />
Has come. All night we watched. What can you say<br />
More than this fearful meeting tells? No word?<br />
Are you the ghost you look? Is Charilus safe?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Safe as yon Heaven would have him. He is dead.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">[<em>Silence</em>]</span><br />
You loved him, though you went another way<br />
To find your God.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Our father dead? O, sister,<br />
Not cold, not still, not silent to his sons.<br />
Who loved his voice even when they most forsook it!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Oswald betrayed us.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">O, my sword, 'tis thou</span><br />
Shalt split his heart, though every spear in Suli<br />
Then pierce my own! [<em>Going</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Stay, Vigard!</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Earth is fire!</span><br />
Can you be still upon it? Where is Bertrand<br />
With his deep oaths? O, coward! I will seek him——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> No need. He'll come to you.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">He'll keep his oath,</span><br />
You think?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I know he will.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">So knew you too</span><br />
That Charilus was safe. Call him to life,<br />
And we'll believe you yet!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">How died our father?</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">[<em>Ardia weeps</em>]</span><br />
No matter now. And Oswald cast you out?<br />
Afoot?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> Ay, so he did! I'll answer that!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> He sent us under guard.</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Ay, but afoot!</span><br />
And 'twas a trudge to Avesta. O, the day!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Prince Banissat gave you no help?</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">No help?</span><br />
Who said so? There's a prince! He drew his sword,<br />
And swore he'd drive Earl Oswald to the sea,<br />
And said "Avesta's yours,"—that to my mistress,<br />
She then bedraggled and so full of tears<br />
She had no words to thank him. I did that!<br />
Then we had sup and bed, and when my bones<br />
Were sweet with sleep, why we must up again<br />
And tug it to the peak.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>To Ardia</em>] He sheltered you!<br />
Then there was hope, which you have trampled down<br />
By this mad flight.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I dared not think the prince</span><br />
Would make my bitter fortunes his. In you<br />
Lay my defence, and to your love I came.<br />
You must make peace with Oswald. Yes, my brothers,<br />
Although you write it with our father's blood.<br />
He is all powerful. When Bertrand comes——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Ha, when he comes!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">What then?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">You may demand</span><br />
Whate'er you will of Oswald, if you spare<br />
The dear life of his son.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'll have that life</span><br />
And Oswald's too!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He'll make you any terms——</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Ay, any terms, and keep none, once his son<br />
Is safe.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>Looking down the pass</em>] Who comes?—with gleaming lances? Ah....<br />
The prince!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> By Allah, he!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>It is now dawn. Ardia steps back into shadow as Banissat
and followers enter. His retainers wait at entrance
below while he advances</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Good-morrow, friends.</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Hail to you, Banissat!</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I seek a dove</span><br />
That fled my hand last night. Has 't flown your way?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Our sister is with us.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Then search ends here.</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Her flight meant no ingratitude, my lord.<br />
Her father's arms grown cold, she came to ours<br />
By the shortest way, bringing her honor home<br />
Where none might question it.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">We love her more</span><br />
For watchful care of what to us is precious<br />
As to herself. Heaven-pure must be the bride<br />
Of Banissat, and tainted Heaven will put<br />
The earth to blush ere she will bring us shame.<br />
I offer her my princedom.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Stepping out</em>] One whose veil<br />
Is lost? Whose face is common to the eyes<br />
Of beggars by the road?</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">O, bald and bitter!</span><br />
But did not one, our Lady of Paradise,<br />
Walk with bare brow among our counsellors?<br />
And you are pure as she. Who dares to soil<br />
The chosen of Banissat with whisper that<br />
He saw you on this journey, forfeits eyes<br />
And tongue. So silence shall give burial deep<br />
To every slander.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You will not forget.</span></p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Yourself shall be my dear oblivion.<br />
For Beauty keeps no records, has no past;<br />
Her arms engird love's moment, and there is<br />
No other time.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nay, Beauty's history</span><br />
Is writ beneath her bloom, and when that goes<br />
The deep, uncovered scars are hated more<br />
Because of love that kissed them unaware.<br />
I dare not wed you, but say that I dared,<br />
Wouldst grasp my broken fortunes when you need<br />
Strong Antioch's staff and sceptre to make good<br />
Your gates 'gainst Oswald? And I've heard, my lord,<br />
That Antioch's daughter is a prize you seek.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Be not o'er-jealous, Ardia of the Stars,<br />
For Antioch shall serve thee. There my suit<br />
Is but a fair appearance,—there I woo<br />
To make thy state secure, and thou shalt be<br />
Bride of my heart unrivalled.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Hear me then!</span><br />
I am betrothed to Bertrand. He is sworn<br />
To me as I to him.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Death to your tongue!</span><br />
You'd wed your father's slayer?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I would wed</span><br />
Lord Bertrand. [<em>Kneels to Biondel</em>] Brother!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Give no ear to her!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> If you would save Avesta and yourselves,<br />
Make peace with Oswald. Trust not Antioch.<br />
When Bertrand comes——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> He will not come! He's not<br />
A fool as thou!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> He comes!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>Lifting his sword</em>] Then here's his welcome!</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Bertrand comes out and walks slowly to the group.
Vigard, amazed, lowers his sword</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> My friends, well met. You cut my journey short.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Gives his sword to Biondel</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> You have come back ... to death?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">The blow, my lord.</span><br />
Your work is wellnigh done. An easy stroke<br />
Will finish it.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> And whose is that?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Not mine.</span><br />
I do condemn him, but can lift no hand<br />
To seal mine order.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I am not so weak.</span><br />
This blow for Charilus!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Staying him</em>] If Bertrand dies<br />
My honor goes unto a grave so deep<br />
No shoot of green will ever from it spring<br />
For the world's eye to light on.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You make much</span><br />
Of broken troth. There's many a maid has lived<br />
In wedded honor with a second choice.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> But I may not.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Peace, sister.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Let him live,</span><br />
And Suli's glory will enwrap my name<br />
Stainless and safe.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">'Tis safe with me. Ay, safer.</span><br />
Let Antioch enlist with me, and I<br />
Shall wear the name of Suli with my own.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> You've yet to hear ... you do not know, my lord....</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Sweet, plead no more. Let me go on to Heaven<br />
If 't be God wills his gates shall ope to me.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> You'll stop in hell a thousand years or so!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Wait! I will tell——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">You've said too much!</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">Speak, Ardia.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> In Suli castle where I was betrothed<br />
To Bertrand, just one sun agone—but one—<br />
He spent the night with me.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">She lies!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Say now</span><br />
If Banissat, or any lord save Bertrand,<br />
Will make me wife.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Must I believe you?</span></p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">No.</span><br />
A woman's trick.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> There's proof. Ask whom you will<br />
Of Oswald's train—the lords who saw me cast<br />
From Suli's door, too vile for word or touch.<br />
Ask any trooper, jesting by the way,<br />
And hear my name made foul. The army rings<br />
With it. Ask any gossip of the tents——</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> O, stop her tongue! It thunders on me! All<br />
The air is storm! Peace, or I'll strike her down!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> This seals your death, Lord Bertrand. Now my hand<br />
Is hot and willing.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter a messenger below. He gives a packet to Banissat</em>]</p>
<p><em>Messenger.</em> Antioch sends this,<br />
O, prince!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>To Bertrand</em>] I had your word above all oaths<br />
That you would guard our sister. When the priest<br />
Strips bare the shrine, not outraged God or man<br />
Shall show him mercy.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He is innocent!</span><br />
'Twas Oswald's plot to cast me in the dust—<br />
And there I lie where all the world may see—<br />
But Bertrand's soul is guiltless——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Guiltless! Tush!</span><br />
Your puzzle's clear. [<em>To Biondel</em>] She dies with him.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 17em;">I die</span><br />
If Bertrand dies. But, oh my brothers, we<br />
Are young—we love—will you not let us live?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> [<em>To Vigard</em>] 'Tis best she dies.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">You will not dare——</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">The prince</span><br />
Shall be her judge.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">First let us speak aside,</span><br />
For Antioch fails us, and we've more to weigh<br />
Than the quick death of this too-guilty pair.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Banissat, Biondel, and Vigard go off above</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> I have brought death upon you.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Life, 'tis life</span><br />
Now beating in the dawn! What music! Hear it!<br />
O, we shall live, my lord, and live together!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> In Heaven, love.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">True, for this planet too,</span><br />
Ay, even this earth, is set in Heaven as deep<br />
As any star. 'Tis we are heaven to eyes<br />
In other worlds, and would be to our own<br />
Could we believe. O, hope with me, my Bertrand!<br />
No, no, not hope, whose other half is doubt,<br />
And to its dark and fearful double owes<br />
Its very radiance, too, too unlike<br />
Belief's transmuting sun!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ah, love, no man ere broke</span><br />
Undrained his cup, or brewed again those drops<br />
To his desire——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay, every man is new</span><br />
In destiny, his star his own, and foots<br />
Unmeasured paths.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">On mortal feet.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Be 't so,</span><br />
Each birth is a high venture of the soul<br />
Feeling an untried way for deity's dream,<br />
And none may know where th' deep and twilight trail<br />
Shall flash with God-rift, and the dawn be his.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> O, bravest, bow thy head——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Nay, nay, my lord!</span><br />
Lock up your spirit, let mine rule this hour,<br />
Or be with me the flame of faith that leaps<br />
To deed in God. For we do help him, dear.<br />
Our parcelled strength is whole and new in His,<br />
A power born that touches us again,<br />
Breeding our greater self that yet gives back<br />
His own increase, until the way is strewn<br />
Even with his miracles and ours. So works<br />
The unending drama out, where every act<br />
Begets an act yet greater than itself.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Let me but kiss thy hands.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">You will not help?</span><br />
You'll not believe? Is it so strange<br />
That you should live?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">That hate should let me live.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Is it more strange that halo should grow love-still,<br />
Than that the wind should cease, as now it does,<br />
To strip the bloom from yonder bough, and lie<br />
Unfelt within its silent place? More strange<br />
That life should keep its flow in your warm veins<br />
Than that the sun now creeping on the peaks<br />
Should wander down and on and lay in gold<br />
The valleys of the world, moved by no hand<br />
We see or name, but know, but know!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Biondel, Vigard, and Banissat re-enter</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">He lives!</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> He lives. Speak the conditions, prince.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> [<em>To Bertrand</em>] <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Your life</span><br />
Is spared that she whose name is lost<br />
May wear your own. You shall remain on Kidmir peak,<br />
And make her yours by every priestly rite<br />
With open, fair observance. Then Earl Oswald<br />
Must greet as daughter one he vilely mocked<br />
From his proud door, and far and wide acclaim her<br />
Princess of Suli. Will his love for you<br />
So bow his heart?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I may not speak for him.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> He will consent.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And, further, he shall give</span><br />
To Biondel the governorship of Ilon.<br />
And grant Ramoor to Vigard.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Not for price</span><br />
Of my poor life will Oswald yield these towns<br />
To any save a Christian.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">So we think.</span><br />
And therefore will these lords forswear<br />
The Prophet for your Christ.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Such sudden change——</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Not sudden, sir. We've long debated it<br />
In secret talk, but loved too well our prince<br />
To so forsake his banner.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Now the day</span><br />
Is here when as his true and Christian friends<br />
We may best serve him, and yet keep the peace<br />
For which our father died.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">He is alive again</span><br />
If you be true. Though wonder is in the hour<br />
I will not stare or question.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Question nothing.</span><br />
Do you not live?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">The prince will summon Oswald</span><br />
To earliest parley, and make our offer known.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Nor lose an instant. Here begins my journey.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">[<em>Signs to retainers who start down the pass</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> We need not give you thanks when you've our hearts<br />
That hold them.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">By the sunset hour the earl</span><br />
Shall give me answer. Meet me in Avesta<br />
'Tween dark and light.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">We will, my lord.</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit Banissat</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">O, strange!</span><br />
Will he keep faith?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">If you must doubt his heart,</span><br />
Trust his affliction. Antioch lost to him,<br />
What can he do but smile on Christian Oswald?<br />
By that same argument I am condemned,<br />
But beg a respite till this pushing peace,<br />
Upsprung in haste, may bear you buds of proof.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> What world is this?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Climb you no farther, sir.</span><br />
Your wounds forbid. Our servants shall be sent<br />
To bear you up.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ay, wait you here, my lord.</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exeunt Biondel and Vigard above</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Love, see the sun!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is my heart, my heart!</span></p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>ACT IV</h3>
<p class="negidt"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <em>Same as first act. An altar near wall, left. Seven maidens
putting fresh garlands about the hall.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Mylitta.</em> She must be dressed by this. Come, let us sing!</p>
<p><em>Mirimond.</em> No, wait! Our part is yet undone.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Here hangs</span><br />
A withered garland.</p>
<p><em>Alenia.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Here another. See!</span><br />
And there! Well, we are slack.</p>
<p><em>Eudora.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Who would not be?</span><br />
We've cause for sleepy wits and fingers too,<br />
With seven days and nights of revelling.</p>
<p><em>Garla.</em> And Charilus warm in 's grave.</p>
<p><em>Myrana.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">He'll be no colder</span><br />
Let come a hundred months. Ten years, ten days,<br />
'Tis all the same i' the ground.</p>
<p><em>Daphne.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">And yet, I think</span><br />
The daughter smiles too soon.</p>
<p><em>Mylitta.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Troth, I would smile</span><br />
For such a lord if all the world beside<br />
Were wrapped in shroud.</p>
<p><em>Mirimond.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I would the English knights</span><br />
Were come! Full fifty, Barca said, would ride<br />
From Suli.</p>
<p><em>Mylitta.</em> I know you, chit. Your eyes will find<br />
Their way.</p>
<p><em>Mirimond.</em> Mayhap not all of us will take<br />
The homeward ship for Corinth. Did we think<br />
When we set sail we'd come in time to see<br />
Our Ardia married?</p>
<p><em>Mylitta.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You will dream.</span></p>
<p><em>Garla.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">If dreams</span><br />
Were men, what maid would go unwed? Not you,<br />
Mylitta.</p>
<p><em>Myrana.</em> Come, our song! 'Tis time!</p>
<p><em>Eudora.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Come, all!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>They sing by Ardia's door</em>]</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Mornings seven have we been</span>
<span class="i2">Wardens at thy door;</span>
<span class="i0">Now thy lord shall enter in,</span>
<span class="i2">And we come no more.</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Mornings seven have we strewn</span>
<span class="i2">Lilies at thy door;</span>
<span class="i0">Now the virgin watch is done,</span>
<span class="i2">And we come no more.</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Mornings seven have we sung</span>
<span class="i2">At thy maiden door;</span>
<span class="i0">Now the seventh morn is rung,</span>
<span class="i2">And we come no more.</span>
</div></div>
<p class="center">[<em>Door opens and Ardia comes out. Gaina follows</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> A kiss to all! Who's happier here than I<br />
Shall have my place.</p>
<p><em>Mirimond.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">We'll ask Lord Bertrand that.</span><br />
Thou'rt no more mistress of your yeas and nays.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O, but I am! I have a votary now<br />
Who'll make my words his wishes and himself<br />
Bring them to pass.</p>
<p><em>Mylitta.</em> No doubt. You'll cough<br />
In oracles. He'll puzzle o'er your sneeze<br />
That he may do its meaning. I have heard<br />
Such husbands do inhabit a green moon,<br />
And one may come to earth.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Kiss me, Mylitta!</span><br />
Naught else will stop your mouth. O, dearest girls,<br />
No father's here to give me to my lord,<br />
And yet I smile, I wed. For why?—his love<br />
Is not in earth with his dear body. No!<br />
'Tis all about me here, bathing my heart,<br />
Now on my brow, now whispers at my ear,<br />
Now runs before my eyes to make a light<br />
Where they would rest. He loves this day as I do!<br />
Yet I had stayed this busking marriage<br />
Had not my brothers pressed me to such haste<br />
And peace not waited on it. Think, dear maidens,<br />
Peace everywhere! Avesta safe and free,<br />
And Oswald's sword in sheath—<br />
<span style="margin-left: 12em;">What is that chanting?</span></p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> [<em>Looking from parapet</em>] A train comes up the heights.</p>
<p><em>Mylitta.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">The English Lords!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Barca, left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Barca, who comes?</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Prince Banissat, my lady,</span><br />
With all his court attending.</p>
<p><em>Mirimond.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Banissat!</span><br />
This is a Christian wedding.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We are at peace.</span></p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> He brings you gifts. Your brothers go to meet him.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Where is Lord Bertrand?</p>
<p><em>Barca.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Near at hand. He comes</span><br />
This way. [<em>Exit Barca, left</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> My girls, wouldst see what dainties lie<br />
In yonder chamber?</p>
<p><em>Mylitta.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Nay, we'll wait.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Moonstones</span><br />
For golden hair—crescents and amber stars<br />
For tresses dark——</p>
<p><em>Girls.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">O! O!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Veils of spun silver——</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Maidens buzz through door right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Go, give them all!</p>
<p><em>Gaina.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">All, mistress? Not——</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 16em;">Go, go!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exit Gaina. Bertrand enters, left. He is in princely costume</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Art found, my heaven?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Thou'st not a fear thy Heaven</span><br />
Is lost in me?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">A doubt were my soul's shame.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">[<em>Points up the heights</em>]</span><br />
Does not yon giant cross arise to say<br />
Christ reigns on Kidmir? Far as Suli plain<br />
Men see the sun upon its silver sides<br />
And hands upborne in prayer forget the sword<br />
That sleeps unwakened.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Will it sleep for long?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Ay, else your father's death were devils' sport,<br />
Not Heaven's will.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">What word to-day from Oswald?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> You name him?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Is he not our father?</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 14em;">O,</span><br />
God's angel thou, not mine!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Does Biondel</span><br />
Now wear the crown of Ilon?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">That's confirmed.</span><br />
And Vigard has Ramoor.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">They profit much</span><br />
By their new faith.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Do they not spare my life?</span><br />
So Oswald gives these crowns. You think he pays<br />
Too dear?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O, barest alms! I'd have the earth.<br />
No less,—then want the sun,—ay, circling heaven,<br />
And yet be beggared losing thee! But they<br />
Must wear their purple o'er a Christian heart.<br />
I would not doubt ... and yet....</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">They are the sons</span><br />
Of Charilus.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> And Banissat?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">He vows</span><br />
An endless peace with Suli.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">And you are Suli.</span><br />
Why am I fearful, knowing doubt is death?</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Come, love, look down—nay, farther, toward the sea.<br />
That sprawling mass that darkens now the plain,<br />
Seeming to hugely breathe and cloud-like move,<br />
Is Oswald's army making feast to-day,<br />
For I, the prince, go wiving. Now I seem<br />
To hear our names joined high in Heaven's air.<br />
And Christ, too, listens smiling, knowing one land,<br />
One throne is his forever. Sweet, 'twas he<br />
Drew me from sheltered cell and flowered garth<br />
To be his sovereign servant. He it was<br />
Who called through you, who cried in Charilus' death<br />
To wake my soul that shall not sleep again<br />
Till Love has garnered all these eastern lands.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Amen, my husband-knight! I am content<br />
To be your love next Christ. Within your heart.<br />
'Twill be sweet, gleaning where he walks before.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> These words be your sole dower, for they hold<br />
More sun for me than shining gold!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">The guests!</span><br />
Do you not hear them? Leave me now, my lord.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Thank patience and my stars, we reach the end<br />
Of these stale ceremonies! Seven days<br />
Of long, superfluous rites to make you mine<br />
When our first kiss did wed us!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Mocking</em>] <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">So ungentle</span><br />
To your proud honors, sir? Nay, it is fit<br />
Your wedding be as famous as your name,<br />
O, Prince of Suli!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">[<em>Voices heard, left</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">Go, to come again!</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exit Bertrand, right. Ardia turns to enter her room and
faces Vigard who comes on left. She draws her veil</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Stay, sister.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Would you have me seen?</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>Throws back her veil</em>] <span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Art fair</span><br />
Again? As Kidmir skies!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">It is my joy.</span></p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Enter left, Biondel, Banissat, and lords. Banissat pauses.
The others pass off, right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>Taking Ardia'a hand to detain her</em>] We have surprised<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">our sister.</span></p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Blest the hour!</span><br />
Now may I lay this gift within her hand—<br />
Poor gift, that has no worth until that hand<br />
Caresses it to splendor.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">[<em>Kneels, offering her a small packet</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Taking packet</em>] Courteous prince,<br />
My thanks. And more than thanks that you should climb<br />
Kidmir's uneasy steep to dearly grace<br />
This day—for smiles of friends, more than fair gifts,<br />
Do best adorn my bridal. [<em>Draws her veil and moves right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Night is come.</span><br />
And through her mist the stars! [<em>Exit Ardia</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Her bloom is washed</span><br />
Somewhat with tears for Charilus, but she<br />
Will flower again.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Now by the Prophet's soul</span><br />
He who has kissed her lips had better've kissed<br />
A flame of hell than so have touched<br />
What shall be mine!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">As thou dost love revenge,</span><br />
Be patient.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Patience to the ox, to beasts<br />
That dream 'twixt cud and whip! Am I not man?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> You have endured, by truth.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Endured!</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 15em;">And now</span><br />
Revenge! Ere night yon braggart cross shall bear<br />
A burden that will start Earl Oswald's eyes<br />
When he looks up from Suli plain.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">This day</span><br />
Shall see it! Come, once more let us look down.<br />
See where the hosts of Allah charge upon<br />
The sottish infidel! All yet is well.<br />
The banner o'er Avesta signals still<br />
The Prophet wins!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">And when the tower of Suli</span><br />
Gleams with the hoisted crescent, we shall know<br />
Oswald is taken.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Ha! There's no way out!</span><br />
The powers of Ilon, Avesta, and Ramoor,<br />
Pen him in bloody triangle. Old rat,<br />
You're in the trap! I should be there, not here,—<br />
There at his throat——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Nay, here, my lord, you'll have</span><br />
Your dearest triumph. Please you now, go in.<br />
I'll watch here for the sign.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Your watch be short.</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit, right. Re-enter Ardia</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>Holding out a flaming ornament</em>] Brother, see this!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">The jewel of the house</span><br />
Of Banissat. 'Tis sacred to his name.<br />
I cannot take it, and he dare not give it.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> It seems he dared.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What does he mean, dear Vigard?</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> To honor Suli's princess as most fit.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I tremble still from his deep look of fire,<br />
And when I saw this burn methought his eye<br />
Was yet upon me.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Fool, go to your maidens!</span></p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Barca, left, with Ramunin</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> You're late, my man.</p>
<p><em>Ram.</em> And yet in season, sir. [<em>Points up the heights</em>]<br />
The cross is bare.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Get you within.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">[<em>Exeunt Barca and Ramunin, left</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">Now, sister—</span><br />
What, do you faint?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">That face! Ramunin's face.</span><br />
I saw it once, and shuddered many a day<br />
Remembering it. The public crucifier,<br />
Who serves the bloody prince of Antioch.<br />
The same. What does he here upon this day<br />
Of all the days of time?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">'Tis by your wish</span><br />
That Kidmir gates are open.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">And by yours.</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Ay, let the world be witness you are made<br />
The honored bride of Suli.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">But Ramunin?</span><br />
He said the cross was bare. Why such a jest<br />
As horrid as his life? [<em>Looking out</em>] And all the knights<br />
That were to come from Oswald—where are they?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> They drank too deep last night for journeying<br />
Up Kidmir road—or else they dare not cross<br />
This outraged portal.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Have we not forgiven?</span><br />
Ah, what is there? Look, Vigard, do you see?<br />
A floating crescent!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Where?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">O'er Suli tower.</span><br />
O, this is Oswald's greeting to our house,<br />
Better than any band of armèd knights!<br />
He lifts the Prophet's banner to his towers,<br />
Even as you set the Savior's crucifix<br />
On Kidmir! Now the one eternal God<br />
Lives in his sign when cross and crescent smile<br />
Love-set in the same heaven!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Allah be praised!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> And Christ—forget not Christ!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">We'll make an end now.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 19em;">[<em>Exit, right</em>]</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> An end? Am I a bride—or sacrifice?</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> Is all now done?</p>
<p><em>Priest.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">All's done. The spouse of Suli</span><br />
May bow herself unto her master's feet,<br />
Bespeaking so the love that has no wish<br />
But service, no desire save her lord's will.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>As Ardia would kneel, Bertrand prevents her</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> You shall not kneel.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">'Tis custom, dear my lord.</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Then here it dies.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My mother did so much</span><br />
For him who made her wife.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Thy knees shall bend</span><br />
To God, and to none less. Reign at my side,<br />
Princess of Suli, not my feet.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We hail</span><br />
The bride of Suli!</p>
<p><em>Guests.</em> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bride of Suli, hail!</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> [<em>Unseen</em>] Ho! Seize the traitor! Ho!</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Enter Ramunin, right, and armed guards</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Who speaks? And who</span><br />
Is traitor here?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Thou, foulest murderer!</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> Who speaks?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Dead Charilus.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">'Tis Vigard's voice.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">[<em>Vigard steps forth</em>]</span><br />
What, Vigard, art thou mad? Wouldst shatter the globe<br />
Of Heaven?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Nay, it was broken that same hour<br />
When died our father.</p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Son of Charilus, speak</span><br />
Your will. If you demand my life, 'tis yours.<br />
I hold it by your gentle lease and love.<br />
But while I ask not one poor breath for me,<br />
I beg you pause, nor cast the innocent<br />
To feed the vengeful and life-reaping fire<br />
Oswald will kindle for his hapless son.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> You think no fires will burn but of his kindling?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O shame! The crescent over Suli greets<br />
The cross on Kidmir!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ay, the crescent flies</span><br />
From Suli, thanks to faithful Moslem hands<br />
That set it there.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ah.... Moslem hands?</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">You fool,</span><br />
To think that Oswald fluttered compliments,<br />
When he was dreaming how he'd bid you drink<br />
Of that same cup he gave to Charilus!</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Now, dearest lady, you are safe. To-day<br />
The Faithful battled with the infidel,<br />
And that bright crescent is the silent sign<br />
We have the victory. Ramoor and Ilon<br />
With pointed sword bore down on either side<br />
The glutted, drunken army, while in front<br />
Avesta like a whirlwind swept——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">O, traitor!</span><br />
You vowed unbroken peace with Suli!</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Yea,</span><br />
Will keep it too, for I am Suli now.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>To her brothers</em>] Were you not sworn to Christ?</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">We are the Prophet's.</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> O, Heaven, hear not this! And Oswald's knights?</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Sleep in Avesta's dungeons.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Banissat,</span><br />
Avesta's golden prince, speak you the doom<br />
Of Bertrand——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Doom? O——</span></p>
<p><em>Ber.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Do not waste the breath</span><br />
A kiss may save. A thousand times, your lips!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> [<em>To Biondel</em>] Let him not die!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> You'll pray soon that he may!<br />
Speak, noble prince.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I, lord of conquered Suli,</span><br />
Condemn the son of Oswald unto death<br />
By crucifixion. Be his body nailed<br />
Upon the cross now raised on Kidmir peak,<br />
That Oswald may behold his groaning son,<br />
And every Christian dog look up and see<br />
How dies the Prophet's enemy.<br />
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">[<em>To Ramunin</em>] Away!</span><br />
Prick him with delicate tortures that yet leave<br />
Him heart to heave his agony. Hear you!<br />
If he live not three days upon the cross<br />
Yourself shall hang beside him.</p>
<p><em>Ram.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I've a hand</span><br />
Has had some practice, sir.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We know it, fellow,</span><br />
And therefore we employ you.</p>
<p><em>Ram.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I put the nails</span><br />
In young Deobus, he who hung five days<br />
'Twixt heaven and earth, and to the fifth eve groaned<br />
As he would pull his heart up. I've a medal<br />
Struck by the city for it.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I will match it,</span><br />
If you match me the service.</p>
<p><em>Ram.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">That I'll do.</span><br />
These English have strong hearts—will suck at pain<br />
As life were in her dugs.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>Exit Ramunin, guards, and Bertrand. Priest and guests
follow. The maidens huddle at door, right</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Sister, you stare</span><br />
Too hardly on this grief. It is a woe<br />
That Heaven smiles on, and the cure now waits<br />
In Banissat's fair mercy. You shall be<br />
His royal wife, and Suli's princess still.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> Speak to the prince.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nay, let her hear my vow.</span><br />
O, star of Kidmir, dear and beautiful,<br />
I'll set thee in a bosom that shall be<br />
A tender heaven round thee. Beat to earth<br />
Is murmurous suspicion, and again<br />
You shine unto the world, swept free of taint<br />
By noble marriage with most careful rites——</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I doubt, I doubt! One part, one point, one rite,<br />
Broken in act, left gaping and divided,<br />
One half performed, one half left all undone,<br />
Leaves me dishonored still. She is not widowed<br />
Who was not wife——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">All's done! What more canst wish?</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> To lay my forehead on my husband's feet,<br />
Which by the ancient custom of our house<br />
Is maidhood's closing act, as 'tis the first<br />
Of wifehood true. This thou wilt grant——</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 13em;">You're bound</span><br />
By rites enough!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Canst stand uncertain on</span><br />
So slight a matter?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Slight? Ah, you know naught</span><br />
Of woman! Teach him, prince, that not a nick,<br />
Or turn, or shade of custom would she spare<br />
From this most holy ceremony. Wanting but<br />
The smallest portion that gives leave to say<br />
The measure lacks, she all her life will grieve,<br />
Shed secret tears, and wear a blanchen face<br />
When none knows why.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">You shall not move us. Peace!</span></p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> A brawling fancy!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Avesta's prince, thou who</span><br />
Shalt be my lord, if any lord of earth<br />
Be mine again, wouldst have my love, or hate?</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Thy love, fair Ardia.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Then I pray you, sir,</span><br />
Move thy forbearance yet one farther step<br />
And pluck this boon for me. 'Tis near thy hand,<br />
And O, how small a thing for you to give,<br />
But as the sun of all my days to me!<br />
Without it I may die——</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Speak not of death. So sweet</span><br />
I'll shelter thee, Death's self must bloom<br />
If he creep near thy bower.</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">May I, my lord,</span><br />
Keep honored place by thee when memory mocks<br />
That place and honor? Grant me this, but this,<br />
And here I swear if any act of man<br />
May move a widowed heart, mine shall grow warm<br />
To thee!</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Do you speak truth?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Believe me, sir,</span><br />
So dear a thing is this for which I sue,<br />
That he who gives it must grow dear thereby;<br />
And if he lift to him my prostrate life,<br />
This gentle moment shall immortal be<br />
And sweeten every hour we pass together.<br />
Remembering this, my captive breast shall be<br />
His free dominion, and my lips on his,<br />
If they know warmth, shall take it from this cause,<br />
This first dear tenderness.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">We'll please you, mistress.</span><br />
Bring in the man again.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Exit a guard</em>]</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">I beg you, prince——</span></p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> By Allah, she shall have her beggar wish,<br />
For no more reason than she wishes it!</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> It is her sickish humor, sir, to look<br />
On him again. All this wild pother means<br />
No more than that.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> No more? We'll please her then<br />
For our good peace to come.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">A princely kindness.</span></p>
<p> [<em>They talk together. Ardia crosses to altar</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Now one more miracle! God live in me,<br />
And Christ direct my hand!</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">What do you say,</span><br />
My sister?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> But a word to mine own heart.</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> Nay, mine now, is it not?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">So much of it</span><br />
As dearest lenience may buy, my lord.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Bertrand is brought in guarded</em>]</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> The man is here. Now have your foolish will.</p>
<p class="blockquot">[<em>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</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> [<em>To Bertrand</em>] Sir, we permit the lady of our soul<br />
To end as her heart wills the rite that makes<br />
Her wife and widow. Touch her not, nor speak.</p>
<p class="center">[<em>Bertrand crosses to altar</em>]</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Why should we touch, when souls inhabit eyes<br />
And journey on a look? My heaven-lord,<br />
Here is no priest to bless this act of mine,<br />
But God will know his altar and the gift<br />
I lay upon it. The life we thought to live—<br />
That might have failed, and killed the dream now safe<br />
From tarnish of the days. Earth has enough<br />
Of blind and baffled lives, but great her need<br />
Of dreams. And ours we leave with her, unworn,<br />
Unpaled, warm round the love-seed she shall nurse<br />
To million-budded life.</p>
<p><em>Bion.</em> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Come, make an end!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> An end of love? The God of all the worlds<br />
Cannot do that. Love born this darkest day<br />
Shall be in flower on man's millennial path<br />
And touch his step with Heaven.</p>
<p><em>Vig.</em> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Peace! Be done!</span></p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> Ay ... done. My lord, think thou art in the world<br />
Celestial, and from there smile on me—now—<br />
[<em>Draws dagger from her bosom and stabs him. He falls</em>]<br />
High God, as thou art Love, I struck for thee!<br />
<span style="margin-left: 16em;">[<em>Bends over body</em>]</span><br />
True aim. Full in the heart. I know the place,<br />
For there my home is—there I live—and now<br />
My house is down, I, too, must fall——</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I'll pay thee!</span><br />
What hast thou done?</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> What done? A miracle!<br />
Who now can harm my love?</p>
<p><em>Ban.</em> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Your promises!</span><br />
Your oaths!</p>
<p><em>Ard.</em> I'd keep them, sir—ay, every one,<br />
If grief would let me live to be your wife.<br />
But I am weary, and my heavy stars<br />
Have left their skies to hang upon me here.<br />
My veins are empty, all their strength is out.<br />
Does 't take so much to lift this little blade<br />
And let it fall again?<br />
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">[<em>Biondel takes the dagger from her</em>]</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 7em;">Think you I need</span><br />
So poor a thing? Nay, God has struck for me,<br />
As I for Him. I go with Vairdelan. [<em>Kneels by body</em>]<br />
Look on this brow, if shame will let ye look.<br />
An angel shaped it. Ye've unfashioned here<br />
The work of Heaven. Sweet lips, no roses left?<br />
Your hand, my lord, and now the sinless star. [<em>Dies</em>]</p>
<p class="center1"><br />
[<em>Curtain</em>]</p>
<pre>
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