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diff --git a/old/51282-0.txt b/old/51282-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3ee3954..0000000 --- a/old/51282-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14238 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lords and Lovers, by Olive Tilford Dargan - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Lords and Lovers - and Other Dramas - -Author: Olive Tilford Dargan - -Release Date: February 22, 2016 [EBook #51282] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LORDS AND LOVERS *** - - - - -Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Kentuckiana Digital Library) - - - - - - - - - - -LORDS AND LOVERS AND OTHER DRAMAS - - - - - LORDS AND LOVERS - - AND - - OTHER DRAMAS - - BY - - OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN - - - NEW YORK - - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - - 1906 - - - - - _Copyright, 1906, by Charles Scribner's Sons_ - - _All rights reserved_ - - _Published, October, 1906_ - - - _The Trow Press, New York_ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - LORDS AND LOVERS: - - PART I 1 - - PART II 71 - - THE SHEPHERD 135 - - THE SIEGE 207 - - - - -LORDS AND LOVERS - -PART I - - -_CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY_ - -HENRY III, _King of England_ - -EARL OF ALBEMARLE - -EARL OF PEMBROKE - -RICHFORD, _son to Pembroke, afterwards Earl_ - -ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY - -BISHOP OF WINCHESTER - -CARDINAL GUALO - -HUBERT DE BURGH, _afterwards Earl of Kent_ - -SIR ROLAND DE BORN - -STEPHEN GODFREY, _a soldier_ - -GREGORY, _a captain_ - -BALDUR, GODRIC, _soldiers_ - -ORSON, _a servant_ - -GERSA, _an officer under De Burgh_ - -FRIAR SEBASTIAN - -LORD GOLY - -LORD DE VERE - -MARGARET, _a Scottish princess_ - -ELEANOR, _Countess of Albemarle, wife of Albemarle_ - -GLAIA, _ward of De Burgh_ - -ELDRA, _servant to Glaia_ - -_Lords and ladies of the court, bishops, barons, priests, citizens, -soldiers, &c._ - - TIME: _13th Century_ - - SCENE: _England_ - - - - -ACT I - - SCENE 1. _Room in the earl of Pembroke's castle. Pembroke in bed. - Richford and Albemarle attending._ - - - _Pem._ The king has come? - - _Alb._ He waits upon your grace - As a good servant; with demeanor speaks - True sorrow you are brought so low. - - _Pem._ [_Stoutly_] Ha! Low? - - _Alb._ Sir, but in body. Pembroke's mounting mind - Can never be struck down. - - _Pem._ He's sad, you say? - - _Alb._ In tears, your grace. He weeps more like a son - Than sovereign. - - _Pem._ A son! Where is the son - Would weep for Pembroke? - - _Rich._ Here, my dearest father! - Here are the tears would water thy affliction - Till it be washed from thy endangered body. - Here is the heart would give its younger blood - To make thine leap with health. Without you, sir, - I am no more than is the gaudy bloom - Of some stout tree the axe has brought to ground. - O, wilt forgive the many pains I've cost thee? - - _Pem._ First touch my hand and swear by highest God - That you will serve the king. - - _Rich._ O, slight condition! - I take this noble hand that ne'er was raised - 'Gainst country, throne or God, and by that God, - I vow to serve the king. - - _Pem._ For the last time - I'll trust and pardon you. If you make black - Your soul with violation of this oath, - I, safe beyond the stars, shall know it not, - Nor die again to think on 't. Men, weep not - That ye lack sons, but weep when your wives bear them! - - _Alb._ I'll vouch for him, your grace. - - _Pem._ Thanks, Albemarle. - - _Rich._ Will you, my kindest father, say a word - To bring me to the graces of the king? - - _Pem._ Ay, son. - - _Rich._ Now, sir? - - _Pem._ Nay, I'm not dying yet, - And wish to keep my last words for his ears. - There's holy magic in the passing tongue - That stamps its truth unrasurable. So - Would I grave Henry's heart. - - _Rich._ But, sir---- - - _Pem._ I'll wait - My hour. Who comes with him? - - _Alb._ The legate, Gualo, - To-day arrived from Rome. - - _Pem._ And I not told? - Already I am dead. These ears, that kings - Engaged, are now contracted to the worm - Permits no forfeiture. Well, well, his message? - - _Alb._ The cardinal assures us that the pope - Will cast his power with Henry. Though he loves - This praying Louis, well he knows our right. - - _Pem._ The pope our friend? I thank thee, Heaven! - England, take up thy heart! Thou yet mayst hope! - [_Enter bishop of Winchester_] - - _Win._ God save great Pembroke! - - _Pem._ He alone can do it. - Lord Albemarle, and my new-graced son, - Will 't please you walk within? - - _Alb._ We are your servants. - [_Exeunt Richford and Albemarle, left_] - - _Pem._ Now, Winchester? - - _Win._ You sent for me, your grace. - I have made haste. - - _Pem._ Ay, you'd trot fast enough - To see me die. - - _Win._ Nay, sir, I hope you've called - Me to your service. - - _Pem._ So I have, my lord. - A task unfinished I must leave to you. - Here is the key to yonder cabinet. - Pray you unlock it ... and take out the packet - Your eye's now on. - - _Win._ This, sir? - - _Pem._ Ay, that is it. - 'Twas Henry Second, grandsire of this Henry, - Gave me that packet. Sir, you know the tale - Of princess Adelais who journeyed here - As the betrothed of Richard, Henry's son. - Alack, she never was his bride. Some say - That Henry loved her ... I know not ... but she - Returned to France, her reason wandering. - "If she recover," said the king to me, - "Give her this packet; should she die, break seal - And learn what you shall do." She did not die, - Nor can I say she lives, so sad her state. - Her age was bare fifteen when she left England, - Her face a lily and her eyes a flood; - She now must be midway her fifth decade, - A time, I've heard, when subtle changes work - Within the mind. A beauteous soul! O God, - Restore her now, or lift her e'en to thee! - ... Take you the packet, and the king's command. - But first your oath. Deceit has sapped my faith - So oft I could believe the devil himself - Wears gown and mitre. Peter des Roches, will you - Be true? - - _Win._ I swear by Heaven. - - _Pem._ That is done, - As well as't can be done. Call in my son - And Albemarle. - - _Win._ My lords! - - [_Re-enter Richford and Albemarle_] - - _Pem._ Now let us talk - Of England. O, this fleet, this fleet, rigged out - By warlike Constance in monk Louis' name! - I see it nearing now, leaping the waves, - On, on, and none to meet it! Cowards all. - What do ye here, ye three, loitering about - A sick man's bed? A man almost a corpse. - I would not have a servant waste himself - To give me drink while England needs his sword. - - _Rich._ My father lord, we have our men abroad - Rousing the country for a stout defence. - To meet the French with our poor ships were madness; - But let them land we'll give them such a rap---- - - _Pem._ What? Land your enemy? O, fools and cowards! - ... I've given my life for England. Now you'll cast - My heart-dear bargain into Louis' hand - As 'twere a snood slipped from an easy maid. - Fool man! to puff his days out jousting Fate, - Who waits but his bare death to start her mock - Of horrid pleasantries. Then does she make - Dice of the miser's bones, carousal cups - Of the ascetic's skull, a hangman's scoff - Of clerics' prayer-fed sons; and proudest sires, - Who sentried their blue blood, peer back through dust - To see all Babylon pour to their line. - And now she'll bid my war-ghost eyes behold - The land held with my life become a field - For foes at holiday! - - _Win._ Compose yourself, your grace. - - _Pem._ Gualo has come, but where is he will set - This power its task, and play it for this isle? - I can not say that wisdom dies with me, - But I could wish more proof of sager mind - Than e'er I've had from this small audience. - Lord Bishop, you are left custodian - Of Henry's ripening youth. - - _Win._ Nor shall I fail - To be your worthy heir in this high duty, - For still I shall consult with your great spirit, - Praying your ghost be mover of my deeds. - - _Pem._ I've spoken to the king. He'll give you love - For love. But who shall be lord chancellor? - There's little choice. And yet there's one, De Burgh, - If camp and field could spare him---- - - _Alb._ Sir, a man - No older than our sons? - - _Pem._ By your good leave, - Age is no patent to respect and place - If virtue go not with it. Whitened hairs - Make honor radiant, but vice thereby - Is viler still. Ay, there are some---- - - _Rich._ Peace, father, - And save thy strength for us. - - _Pem._ Ah, son, I've been - A careless holder all my life, and still - With my last hour play spendthrift. Well, here be - Three friends of England--Gualo makes a fourth-- - And trusting you I ease my bones to death. - - [_Enter attendant with a letter, which he gives to Pembroke_] - - _Pem._ [_After reading_] De Burgh! O gallant soul! - Now am I young! - With forty ships he'll meet the fleet of France! - I live again, for courage is not dead! - [_Sinking_] Nay--help--ah, I am gone. I'll hasten on - And plead in Heaven for his victory. - [_Seems to die_] - - _Alb._ Ah ... dead? - - _Rich._ In truth. - - _Win._ I'll go and tell the king. [_Aside, going_] - My joyful tears he will translate to grief, - And think I weep a friend's death, not a foe's - Whose only act of friendship was to die. [_Exit_] - - _Alb._ How now, my lord? Does your good purpose hold? - - _Rich._ It has the falling sickness, Albemarle, - And now lies low as earth. - - _Alb._ Then set thy foot - Upon it that it rise no more. - - _Rich._ 'Tis done. - - _Alb._ What fools are they who think that dying men - Speak oracles to pivot action on, - When death's decay so blurs each fading sense - They know but darkly of the world about, - And of realities all plain to us - Build visions substanceless to gull our faith. - Grant that they do take note of things unseen, - 'Tis with their faces to another world, - And what they speak is strange and ill advice - To us whose work is still 'mong men of earth. - - _Rich._ You need not clear your way to me. I've not - A scruple in my soul would trip a gnat. - Speak out your heart. - - _Alb._ You are great Pembroke now. - But Richford took an oath to serve the king. - - _Rich._ And he--is Louis. - - _Alb._ Till we find hour fit - To cast his yoke and take a sovereign - Of our election. - - _Rich._ _Royal Albemarle!_ - - _Alb._ Here stand we then. De Burgh we count as dead. - Le Moine has orders to strike off his head - Soon as he's taken. Now we get the king - To Dover fort, on pretence to defend it. - There the besieging French will take him prisoner, - And ship him straight to Calais--or to Heaven. - - _Pem._ [_Half rising_] Devils! dogs! beasts! - Now these devoted bones - Will never lie at peace in English earth. - My country! Must the foreign foot be set - Once more upon thy neck, and thine own sons - Pour sulphur to thy wounds? The king! the king! - What, vipers, do you hear? Call in the king! - - _Alb._ We must not, sir. - - _Pem._ Ho, here! The king! - - [_Rises from bed, starts forward and falls back speechless. Enter - Henry, Gualo, Winchester, and attendants. Albemarle and Richford - stand together. Pembroke dies pointing to them and gazing at the - king._] - - _Hen._ My lords, what does this mean? - - _Alb._ This noble man - Wished much to say a word of grace for me - And his forgiven son. Alas, black death - Has stolen the balm that might have eased our way - Into your heart. - - _Hen._ Fear not, my lords. I'll trust you, - Even as he wished. [_Kneels by bed_] - O, Pembroke, couldst thou leave me? - - * * * * * - - [_Curtain_] - - - SCENE 2. _Before Dover castle. Night. Hubert de Burgh walking - and listening._ - - _Hub._ But forty ships! But forty slit-sailed drabs - Of storm and watery danger to meet all France - Fresh-winged upon the sea! And yet no word - Nor stir of help. Methinks were I the king, - Or Pembroke with his power in my mouth, - Each English road should be ablaze to-night - With swift flint-striking hoofs. Now to our shore - Puffs up the wave may prove oblivion's maw, - And drink these Dover cliffs as they were sands, - Yet England sleeps, with one lone heart at watch. - [_Sound of horse approaching_] Nay, two, for Roland comes. - - [_Enter Roland de Born, dismounted_] - - _Rol._ You, Hubert? - - _Hub._ Ay. - You bring no aid? - - _Rol._ The king is powerless. - Pembroke is dead. The barons to covert slink, - Saying their loyalty binds them to fight - No farther than the shore. The bishops smirk - Beneath their mitres, roll their eyes and cry - "God and great Rome, deliver us!" which means - Deliver us to Louis, king of monks - And darling of the pope. - - _Hub._ And Albemarle? - - _Rol._ Stands by the king, and ready with his men - To meet the foe on land, but not a soul - Will send to sea. - - _Hub._ Dissembler! Well he knows - A victory on the sea means England lost, - So many traitor hearts will league with France - And sell their country for one castle more. - - _Rol._ What now? We've little time. 'Tis almost day. - The moon is down, and the raw, rising air - Sucks in approaching light. What must be done? - - _Hub._ The Cinque Ports yield me forty ships. - With these - I'll meet Le Moine. - - _Rol._ O, Hubert, Hubert! - - _Hub._ Ay, - My men are all aboard and waiting me. - The garrison I leave to you. Hold it - For honor and the king, nor yield to save - So poor a thing as my unlucky head - Should I go foul at sea. You'll be the first - The victors will besiege. - - _Rol._ My friend! - - _Hub._ Tut, man, - The sea's a good safe bed. Come in. Some wine - Will take the night-chill from your blood. In, in! - - [_Exeunt. Curtain_] - - - SCENE 3. _Within the castle. Stephen, Baldur, Godric, and other - soldiers talking and drinking._ - -_Ste._ [_Draining his glass_] As good liquor as ever wet an oath since -Noah was a vintner. - -_Bal._ Vintner? An you put him in the trade the bishop will have you up -for it. - -_Ste._ A groat for your bishop, and that off your grandam's eyes! I'm -no little king Henry pulled to mincemeat by his bishops and barons. -"I'll take off your mitre," roars he to his bishop. "An you take off my -mitre, I'll clap on a helmet, by the lord," says my bishop. "I'll have -your castle!" shouts he to his baron. "An you take my castle, I'll give -you London tower," says master baron. Ay, and he would, with the keeper -thrown in. - -_Bal._ And you too, if you bite not a bit from your tongue. - -_Ste._ By the mass, I'll drink the king's ale, and I'll take the king's -money, but I'll fight for none but Hubert de Burgh! - -_God._ And he for the king--so you. - -_Ste._ I care not how you make it. De Burgh is my master. I'll fight -for him and with him and after him, but I'll wear a red sword for no -bishop or baron or little king Harry in Christendom! - -_Bal._ That may be so with more of us than you, but stop your mouth -with good ale and let words alone. - -_Ste._ And I'll go with him to the French court and pull Louis off the -king's stool! - - [_Sings_] - - Hear, boys, hear! O, hear our captain call! - We'll away, boys, away! - For the love o' the sword and the love o' the money, - We'll on to the wars, my brave fellows all, - An they take our Jack they will leave our Johnny. - Away, boys, away! - - [_Enter Hubert and Roland_] - -_Hub._ What cheer, my men? A fair morning for brave hearts. Can you -keep this castle for me till I've had a bout at sea? - -_A soldier._ That we can, sir! - -_Ste._ I'll go with you, sir, by your leave. The castle will wait for -us, I give you my word, sir. - -_Hub._ You have seen the bottom of your glass too often to-night, -Stephen. - -_Ste._ God bless you, sir, there's where a soldier keeps his oath to -serve God and his country, and he can't look it over too often. Take me -wi' you, sir, and I'll prove you who lifts his glass the highest will -wave his sword the longest. [_Kneels_] I was your father's soldier, -sir, and hope to die yours. - -_Hub._ Nay, I must leave trusty souls behind me. Let those who love me -least fight under my eye, but I'll trust nay good Stephen around the -world. - -_Ste._ [_Rising_] Ay, sir! Rain arrows, hail bullets, we'll keep the -castle against all weather! - -_Hub._ [_Presenting Roland_] Then here's your brave captain. Follow him -now, and farewell, good fellows--farewell, all! - - [_Soldiers start out slowly, following Roland_] - -_An old soldier._ [_Turning_] But you'll come again, sir? - -_Another._ Ay, we'll see you back? - -_Another._ An you come or come not, I kiss my sword to you, Hubert de -Burgh, the bravest knight in all England! - -_Hub._ Why, my hearts, would you start the liquor in my eyes? I go -where there's brine enough. Twelve hours' sail with fortune will bring -me back--but if I come not, remember your king! - - [_Exeunt soldiers_] - - They know 'tis death--they know 'tis death. - And what - Is that? We are all guests in God's great house, - The Universe, and Death is but his page - To show us to the chamber where we sleep. - What though the bed be dust, to wake is sure; - Not birds but angels flutter at the eaves - And call us, singing. - - [_Enter Gersa_] - - Gersa, what success? - -_Ger._ The bags are all aboard, sir. - -_Hub._ And portioned to every vessel? - -_Ger._ Ay, sir. - -_Hub._ Well despatched? - -_Ger._ The men heaved as though the sacks held all the pope's treasury -and they were to take their pay out of it. - -_Hub._ Yet they found the contents not so heavy as gold, I hope. - -_Ger._ Nor so light as feathers, sir. - -_Hub._ But I pray they'll fly as well, and more to the purpose. Aboard -with you now. I'll not be long behind you. - - [_Exit Gersa_] - - If this, my careful stratagem, should fail, - God help the friendless boy on England's throne! - Now Pembroke's noble strength must e'en to coffin; - And Isabel across the sea cares not, - But happier in a gentler husband's love - Takes little thought of John of England's heir, - Who has his father's beauty, not his heart,-- - Just so much of that proud and guilty blood - As makes him kingly nor corrupts his own. - ... But, come, my soul! Prepare thee for a world - Of rarer breath, lest thou too rudely go - To th' high conclave of spirits. Father? - - [_Enter friar Sebastian_] - - _Fr. Seb._ Son, - Art ready for the sacrament? - - _Hub._ I lack - A prayer of thine to make me so. Give me - Such blessing as you'd lay upon me were - Death couchant for my heart, and on my brow - Drop thou the holy unguent that doth fit - The body for the last touch of the soul. - - _Fr. Seb._ My love is to thy mortal frailty bound, - And first I'll bless thee as an earthly father, - Praying that thou mayst smite thine enemies. - - [_Re-enter Roland_] - - _Rol_ Your pardon, Hubert. Lady Albemarle - Is here, and begs for instant sight of you. - - _Hub._ My sister? I will see her. - [_Exit Roland_] Wait you, father. - The world must still intrude on Heaven's affairs. - - [_Exit friar through large folding doors rear as lady Albemarle - enters left_] - - _La. Alb._ Brother! Is Glaia here? - - _Hub._ She is. But why - This eagerness? - - _La. Alb._ My lord says that you go - To meet the French. Is 't true? - - _Hub._ In one hour's time - I count myself at sea. - - _La. Alb._ Then what--O, where - Shall I hide Glaia? - - _Hub._ Hide? Is 't evermore hide - That spotless maid, born but to be a star - To human eyes? - - _La. Alb._ Nay, born to be my shame, - And constant, killing fear! - - _Hub._ She will be safe. - Roland de Born, who now will guard this castle, - Holds Glaia as the heart in his own body. - Ay, she is safe,--but if the danger nears, - She'll be conducted back to Greenot woods---- - - _La. Alb._ Roland de Born? What knows he? - - _Hub._ Only this, - That Glaia, weary of skies, rests foot on earth. - - _La. Alb._ He does not love her, Hubert? Say not that! - - _Hub._ Thy daughter is so honored. - - _La. Alb._ No! - - _Hub._ She has - His noble love, and he my happy wish - That he may make her wife. - - _La. Alb._ Then thou art false, - And I look on my grave. - - _Hub._ What, Eleanor? - - _La. Alb._ You know my place, and how I queen the court, - A virtuous mark that lords point out to wives, - Bidding them walk as Albemarle's good dame. - Now let me take my seat on the lowest step, - And none too humble to mock me going up. - - _Hub._ What's this to do with Roland's love for Glaia? - - _La. Alb._ O, let them scorn! Tis nothing! But my husband-- - Brother, I never dreamed thy cruelty - Would give me to his vengeance. - - _Hub._ Cruelty? - - _La. Alb._ O, see me at his feet--bleeding and broken---- - - _Hub._ Not while I wear a sword! But how have I - Disturbed thee? What have said? I've threshed my words, - But find no devil in them. - - _La. Alb._ O, this Roland, - If he wive Glaia must ferret out my shame-- - Pry her life ope--who is she?--whence she came?-- - Till all my secret blushes 'fore his eye. - - _Hub._ Though he learn all, thy honor in his breast - Is safe as gem that at earth's centre burns. - - _La. Alb._ Nay, I'll not live! You know not Albemarle! - He'll scourge me through the court in rags to match - My tattered virtue,--then the rack--fire--screws-- - The Scotch boot--O, the world's not dear enough - To purchase so. I will not live! - - _Hub._ I swear - That Roland cares so much for Glaia's birth - As to be glad she's born. And at my word - He will receive her questionless and dumb, - Nor ever doubt, or weigh his promised faith. - - _La. Alb._ Why, is there such a man in all the world? - - _Hub._ He sees her as one looks upon a rose, - And thinks not of the mould that bore it, or what - The tale that dews and winds could tell. - - _La. Alb._ 'Tis strange. - - _Hub._ As strange as truth. - - _La. Alb._ I must--I do believe you. - - _Hub._ And bless his suit? - - _La. Alb._ Ay, let him wed her straight. - What waits he for? Let her be lost in him, - This rare, this unmatched wonder of a man, - And I will cast this shadow from my life, - Heave off the weight that seventeen years I've borne, - And walk the lighter, for I've known what 'tis - To step high 'neath a load. O, let them wed - As soon as may be, Hubert. Why not now? - - _Hub._ He waits to win her heart. - - _La. Alb._ Cares he for that? - You can command her, Hubert. - - _Hub._ But will not. - She is a plant of Nature's tenderest love, - And must be won to bloom by softest airs, - Else shall we risk the gentle life and see - No buds unfold. - - _La. Alb._ I understand her not, - Nor try. She is a part of strangest days, - That like to burning dreams bewilder as - They scar the recollection. She's more kin - To those strange creatures of the wood that peeped - About my shelter when she lay a babe - Than to my blood. Yet she is mine--my daughter. - - _Hub._ Wilt you not see her? - - _La. Alb._ No. - - _Hub._ You will find her up. - - _La. Alb._ Why should I see her? Give a stranger's kiss, - And hear her stiffly say "Your ladyship"? - If she would love me! - - _Hub._ Do not weep. - - _La. Alb._ You think - I do not suffer. - - _Hub._ I've no wish to think so. - - _La. Alb._ I'm nearly mad at times! But I must go. - - _Hub._ [_Hesitating_] How is--the princess? - - _La. Alb._ Margaret? O, well, - But every day more full of starts and whims. - Last night the king was with us---- - - _Hub._ Ah, the king? - - _La. Alb._ She gave him stinted welcome. Then my lord - Came in with news of the advancing fleet, - And danger to the throne, concluding with - Your aim to put to sea, and at that point - She swooned quite prettily and pleased the king. - - _Hub._ She swooned? - - _La. Alb._ Most properly, the king being by - To know it was for him. - - _Hub._ O--ay, for him! - - _La. Alb._ Who else? I hope they'll soon be wed. - - _Hub._ Be wed? - Henry is young. - - _La. Alb._ But old enough being king. - And Albemarle is pressing for the marriage. - 'Tis now ten years since Margaret came from Scotland - To be his charge. A pretty child--do you - Remember? But now grown from beauty, pale - And fanciful. You've seen the change? - - _Hub._ To me - She never changes but to show herself - More beautiful. - - _La. Alb._ You have not seen it? Pah! - Now I must go. Good brother, fare you well. - You've given me comfort. [_Kisses him_] - - _Hub._ Farewell, Eleanor. - - [_Exit lady Albemarle_] - - Art gone, my sister, and no word of love - For one who looks on death? It is the fear - That keeps so constant with her makes her hard - And unlike woman--unlike Margaret. - ... Last night the king was with her--and she swooned. - But not for him. By Heaven, 'twas not for him! - - [_Sits by table, bowing his head upon it_] - - O Margaret! Not one dear word? Not one? - - [_Enter Margaret, veiled_] - - _Mar._ Ah! [_Steps toward him, throwing off her veil_] Hubert? - - _Hub._ [_Starting up_] Princess! Here? You here? - - _Mar._ Couldst think I'd let thee go till I had said - "God save thee" to thy face? - - _Hub._ You risk too much! - - _Mar._ Risk, Hubert? - - _Hub._ O, what have you done? - - _Mar._ What done? - - _Hub._ The king will think---- - - _Mar._ The king will think as I do, - That 'tis most natural to pay adieu - To friends. - - _Hub._ But Albemarle---- - - _Mar._ Approves our friendship. - I do not understand. - - _Hub._ Yet you came veiled. - - _Mar._ 'Twas early--and the air was pricking chill. - I--thought--do you go soon? - - _Hub._ That you should come! - - _Mar._ Soon, Hubert? - - _Hub._ Ay, at once. - - _Mar._ At once. Why then, - Farewell. - - _Hub._ Stay! Ah--I mean--why did you come? - - _Mar._ My soul! I think I came that you might wish - Me back again. Was it so wrong of me? - Are we not friends? And if I came in hope - To ease adieu with unction of a tear - I know none else would shed---- - - _Hub._ O, Margaret! - Pray God that I deserve this! Now I go - So light I'll hardly need my ship's good wings - To bear me. - - _Mar._ The earl doubts not your victory. - How many ships go with you? - - _Hub._ All we have. - The ports hold not a single vessel from me. - - _Mar._ And the enemy's? I hope they are enough - To make your victory noble. - - _Hub._ I've no doubt - They count up bravely. - - _Mar._ Not too many, sir! - - _Hub._ The battle will not shame me. - - _Mar._ But how many? - - _Hub._ As yet we have no word but rumor's. - - _Mar._ Ah! - Tell me you'll win. - - _Hub._ Then help me by not doubting. - - _Mar._ I must not doubt--for if--I did---- - - _Hub._ What then? - - _Mar._ Nay, I'll not stay to tell you. I must go. - I keep you from the battle and your fame. - You have forgiven me my morning ride? - Faith, but you frowned! - - _Hub._ I thought how many eyes - Were on the king's betrothed. - - _Mar._ Choose better words, - My friend. I am not yet the king's betrothed, - And I--had you the time---- - - _Hub._ Nay, all my life - Is yours. - - _Mar._ Hear then. I will not wed the king. - - _Hub._ A princess can not choose. - - _Mar._ Then I'll not be - A princess! - - _Hub._ Margaret! - - _Mar._ A princess? Nay, - I'll be no more a woman, if that means - To cage my soul in circle of a court - And fawn on turnkey humor for my life! - Scotland is lost to me. I'll not go there - To meet my dangerous brother's wrath. No, no! - But there are forests--I can fly to them, - And dig my food from Nature's generous earth, - Thrive on her berries, drink from her clear streams, - Sleep 'neath the royal coverlet of her leaves, - And make some honest friends 'mong her kind creatures - That we call dumb because, forsooth, they speak - By eye and touch and gibber not as we! - ... So silent, sir? Come, will you not advise me?... - There was a day before the day of kings - When maidens looked where'er their hearts had sped - And found them mates who had no need of crowns - To make them royal, and such a day the world - May see again, but I, alack, must breathe - The present time, and crave the help of state - And craft and gold to get me married! O, - The judgment angel gathering up our clay - Will know this period by its broken hearts! - ... Hast not a word? Now should I wed the king? - - _Hub._ He is a gentle youth, and in your care - Would blossom brave in virtues. - - _Mar._ Nay---- - - _Hub._ All hope - For this poor land lies in your grace. - - _Mar._ Ah, Hubert, - Where is there woman strong enough to save - Fair Henry from his flatterers? Not here. - Wouldst cast me to the pool where he must drown? - - _Hub._ Where canst thou hide thy beauty, Margaret? - This is wild talk of forests. Where couldst flee? - What land would shelter thee from England's love - And Scotland's rage? My own--my Margaret-- - Where could we go? - - _Mar._ O, Hubert, we? - - _Hub._ I'm mad. - Peace to thee, maiden. I go to my ships. - - _Mar._ Forgive me! I'll be gone. - - [_Re-enter Gersa_] - - _Hub._ What! Not aboard? - - _Ger._ Your pardon, sir. We have confirmed reports - The French outnumber us by triple count. - Eighty large ships, the double of our own, - Besides two score of galleons and small vessels - That in themselves would match us. And 'tis sure - Le Moine, the pirate, leads the fleet. - - _Hub._ Are all - Now ready? - - _Ger._ Ay, we wait for you. - - _Hub._ Grant me - A bare half hour--no--not so much. I shall - O'ertake you ere you reach your ship. - - [_Exit Gersa. Hubert turns to Margaret and finds that she has - fainted_] - - My lady! - Is this, too, for the king? - - _Mar._ [_Reviving_] You shall not go! - - _Hub._ I must--and now. Let me but press your hand---- - - _Mar._ No, no, my lips! Hubert, let us be true. - Death watches now and will report all lies - To Heaven. Now I must see you go from me, - Out of my eyes as stars go from the sky, - And never, never see you come again, - Let me once hear you say you love me, Hubert, - And all the years that I must weep for thee - I'll keep the words as a sweet golden bell - To sound whene'er my ears want music. - - _Hub._ Thou art the king's. - - _Mar._ Nay, I will lay my head - Upon the block, ere pillow it by his. - - _Hub._ Then we'll be mad together, Margaret. - To go one step in this is to go farthest. - Ah, yesterday I saw a knight I loved - Sink in his blood; but when he called the name - Of his dear bride, and died as it made sweet - His lips, I thought of you and envied him. - And now, so soon, his fortune is my own. - [_Calls_] Come, father! [_To Margaret_] Art afraid? - - _Mar._ Ah, yes, afraid - That I may lose thee! - - _Hub._ Is it hell, or Heaven? - - [_Re-enter friar Sebastian_] - - Good father, when two souls have kissed so close - They in each other lose the form of self, - And neither body knows its own again, - Wouldst join them mortally, that being one - They can not go amiss? - - _Fr. Seb._ If they be free, - My son, to take the vows. - - _Hub._ Thou knowest us. - - _Fr. Seb._ I've blessed ye both as children. - - _Mar._ I am free - By my soul's right, and though a princess born, - Here choose my lord. - - _Fr. Seb._ My daughter, thou art noble, - And must be written fair though envy keep - The beadroll of thy faults, but 'tis poor rank - Not thee stoops to this choice. - - _Mar._ I know it, father. - Though it should cost my fortune, name and place, - I'd give them all to be his wife one hour. - - _Fr. Seb._ Then, by my sacred vows, as I believe - Love is from Heaven, and 'tis God himself - Who fosters its sweet growth through all the blood - Till action, thought, yea, life, do hang upon it, - I'll bind ye in the dear eternal bonds, - And bless your union with the holy feast. - Come in with me. [_Exit, rear_] - - _Hub._ [_Embracing her_] 'Tis Heaven, Margaret! - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -ACT II - - SCENE 1. _Within Dover castle. Same room as in act first. Enter - Glaia followed by Eldra._ - - -_Eld._ O, my lady, up all night, and now 'tis barely day you must be -going! - -_Gla._ My good Eldra, you would teach my shadow constancy, for you -follow me without let or leave from the sun. - -_Eld._ I follow not you but my orders, mistress. Sir Roland says that I -must not leave you. - -_Gla._ The gates are all locked. Does he think me a bird to fly over -the walls? - -_Eld._ That he does! The bonniest bird that ever sang in Greenot woods. -Isn't Sir Roland a man, my lady? - -_Gla._ By his cap and feather, I should not doubt it. - -_Eld._ But a man you may look at, my lady! - -_Gla._ Pray God I may, madam, for 'tis sad to be young and blind. - -_Eld._ Ay, but when I look at Sir Roland I could sing again the song -that got me a husband. - -_Gla._ What song? I think you got him with your fair face and honest -mind, and he took the song by way of grace with meat. - -_Eld._ True, mistress, I was a fair, canny lass over the border. - -_Gla._ And a fair, canny dame you are now, Eldra. But what was the -song? - -_Eld._ It was back summat ten jaunts o' the sun from Lammas to Lammas. -I was standing on the rock hills over Logan frith wi' the green woods -behind me an' lookin' out to sea. The waves were runnin' high, and the -brine in my face gave me such a spirit that in a minute my bonnet was -off and I was singing at the top of my voice-- - - O braw, braw knight, come down the glen - And awa' to kirk wi' me! - And Heaven send us seven stout sons - To fight for our king on the sea! - -It's a long ballad, but it's out o' my mind now, and who should come up -behind me but my man that was to be, and 'twas set then and there we -must go to the kirk come Sunday. Ay, it got me a husband, but never a -son, for only six months away he was drowned at sea--the very sea that -I'd sung so brave t-to---- - -_Gla._ Don't cry. He will come sailing back some day with a fortune in -his pocket. I don't believe he was drowned. - -_Eld._ I care not what's in his pocket, ma'am, if he bring me love in -his heart. - -_Gla._ That he will, I am sure. Where is Orson? - -_Eld._ Bathing his knees in gooseoil, my lady. You kept him at prayers -all night for Sir Hubert. - -_Gla._ Why, did we not share his watch? - -_Eld._ Yes, mistress, but when you fell asleep we had not the heart to -wake you. - -_Gla._ O, ho! I fell asleep, did I? - -_Eld._ I should hope you did, my lady. For my part I winked but once, -and when I woke up you were---- - -_Gla._ Asleep? - -_Eld._ No, but you were praying so chipper that I knew you were just at -it. - -_Gla._ O, false woman! Do you think I could sleep when Hubert is on the -sea? Call Orson to me. - -_Eld._ Orson! Orson! - - [_Enter Orson, walking stiffly_] - -_Gla._ Why, Orson, you carry as much dignity as a watchman that has -just let in a duke. - -_Ors._ Mock not affliction got in your service, my lady. - -_Gla._ My service? When did I tell you to sleep all night on your knees? - -_Ors._ Sleep? Sleep, lady? - -_Gla._ Ay, sleep. You are a knave. Bring me my lute. - -_Ors._ [_Muttering_] Sleep! There's thanks for you! - - [_Exit_] - -_Eld._ Mistress, you must not play your lute here. The king's men are -not like Sir Hubert's, and your voice will quick tell 'em there's a -bird in the bower. - -_Gla._ I am not afraid. What are men but creatures like ourselves? - -_Eld._ Like ourselves? La, my lady! - -_Gla._ There's no harm in them. You are a foolish dame. - - [_Re-enter Orson_] - -[_Taking lute_] Good Orson, I am sorry if your knees are stiff. You may -have the unguent that Sir Roland brought me from Palestine. Go, Eldra, -and get it for him. - -_Eld._ [_Aside_] An I give him not gooseoil with a dash of cinnamon, -I'm no good servant to my mistress. - - [_Exeunt Eldra and Orson_] - -_Gla._ I do not like this castle with Hubert away. Sir Roland makes it -a prison. If I could get out I should try to find my way to Greenot -woods. The doves are nesting now, and the little brown fawns are -specked with snow. - - [_Plays lute and sings_] - - O, lady, let the roses blow - In thy pale cheeks for this-- - That I may to that garden go - And pluck them with a kiss. - - My roses are all plucked, she said, - No more shall ever grow, - For cold is he and low his head - Whose dear love made them blow. - - Then lay she down where slept her lord - Upon the silver heather; - Then sighed the knight, nor said he word, - But left the twa together. - - [_Enter the king, dressed in black. He gazes at Glaia_] - - _Gla._ What is your name, boy? - - _Hen._ Henry. - - _Gla._ Henry? That is the king's name. Are you his soldier? - - _Hen._ I fight for him. - - _Gla._ Ah, me! - - _Hen._ Is it not brave to fight? - - _Gla._ But kings are wicked - To buy their kingdoms with their subjects' lives. - Two days ago they brought a noble knight - Into the castle, bloody and quite dead, - And when I cried, my Hubert whispered "Hush, - 'Tis for the king." Hubert is now at sea-- - Mayhap this moment dies--and for the king. - And 'twas last night I heard Sir Roland say - "We'll hold the castle till each man is down," - All for the king. And now _you_ fight for him. - I hate the king! - - _Hen._ O, do not say that. - - _Gla._ Why? - - _Hen._ Because he loves you. - - _Gla._ He has never seen me. - You're merry, boy. - - _Hen._ But good kings love their subjects - Before they know them. - - _Gla._ O! Is Henry good? - - _Hen._ He prays to be so. - - _Gla._ Let him pray, lest he - Grow old in evil like his father, John. - Who is your father, Henry? - - _Hen._ He is dead. - - _Gla._ Ah! But you have a mother. - - _Hen._ Far away, - And one who loves me little. - - _Gla._ Now I'll sigh - No more for parents, since I know that they - May die, or prove unkind. I have no kin. - But Hubert loves me. - - _Hen._ Lady---- - - _Gla._ I am Glaia. - That is all I know, but Hubert says - Some day he'll tell me more. I do not care. - I love to be a mystery to myself. - - _Hen._ [_Aside_] She's nobly born, and kept from her estate; - But how should she be honest Hubert's charge? - - _Gla._ What say you, Henry? - - _Hen._ 'Tis so strange to find - An angel housing in this black-browed castle, - Converting war's grim seat to paradise. - Hast always lived here? - - _Gla._ O, behind these walls? - No, I've a home deep in the happy forest. - I do not like this place--these huge black rocks - Piled up so high, with caves i' the ground, and holes - To shoot out arrows. I walk on tiptoe here, - Afraid I'll wake the ghosts that sleep i' the corners. - But in the forest I can shout and run, - And everything I wake will laugh and sing. - - _Hen._ Where is this happy place? - - _Gla._ I can not tell. - 'Twas night when we came here, and Hubert says - That none must know the way. I wonder why. - Do you live in a castle? - - _Hen._ When I'm not - At wars. - - _Gla._ O me, I would not live in one - To please---- - - _Hen._ The king? - - _Gla._ No, not to please the king. - - _Hen._ If he were lonely, Glaia? - - _Gla._ Lonely? O, - He is to wed the princess Margaret. - Are you not glad? He'll not be lonely then. - She's fair and good, they say. - - _Hen._ But not as you. - Her princess feet like well the solid earth. - She is a flower that sips of sun and dew. - But feedeth most from root-cups firm in ground; - While you are made of music, love, and air,-- - A being of the sky--a lover's star, - Although he be a king. The grace of heaven - About your beauty plays, and drops as soft - Upon my eyes as light from the lark's wing. - But I must leave you now. Sweet, take this gift. - - [_Gives her his jewelled belt_] - - And know my name and place are worthy yours, - Though you should be a princess, as I think. - See, here's a jewel in this belt. I dare - To part with it, though wise men say my life - Is safe but when I wear it. 'Tis the stone - Of Wales, and blessed by magic of the seers - That in that country dwell. - - _Gla._ Then keep it. Ay, - You must. - - _Hen._ No, no! I have a fear some harm - Will touch you, me away. Keep you the charm, - And I will take your lute. In lonely hours - I'll touch the chords and think thou'rt listening. - - [_Exit_] - - _Gla._ A lovely boy! O me, these dreadful wars! - Eldra's a goose to call the king's men rude. - I wish he had not gone. I'll play again - And see who'll come. Ah, now I have no lute. - No matter, I will sing. - - [_Sings_] - - O, sweet the day and fair the May, - But Love he laid him down to weep---- - - [_Enter Gregory_] - - _Greg._ A pixy sure! - Sweet apparition, wilt fly if I approach? - Then here I'll stand, and from this point remote - As frosty Hebrid from the golden East, - Adore thy seeming substance! Ah, no answer? - Advance then, valiant Gregory, and explore. - Flesh? 'S light, 'tis flesh! A very woman, too. - A silent woman. Heavenly miracle! - With lips like twin strawberries 'neath one leaf. - The very manner of them begs a kiss. - I' faith, they shall not beg. - - _Gla._ You would not kiss me! - - _Greg._ You wrong me, duck. Why, I'm a man of mirth - A soldier, sweet. And would not kiss? Now, now! - You take me for a ghost--or starve-bone saint. - I am not padded--I fill out my coat - And owe but for the cloth. A man, my chick! - Shalt have a kiss. - - _Gla._ O, help me, Eldra! Help! - - [_Stephen runs in, seizes Gregory and shakes him about_] - - _Ste._ [_Pricking him with his sword_] Shalt have a kiss, - he shall! A man, my chick! - I fill my coat, I do.' - - _Greg._ Hold, sir! I am - An officer of the king! - - _Ste._ Why then, shalt have - More kisses! 'S blood! I thought thee but a scrub. - A king's man, sir, shall have more ceremony. - - [_Pricks him around the room. Enter Roland_] - -_Rol._ Stephen! Brawling here? You know the orders. - -_Ste._ Orders, I take it, sir, don't count in such a case extraordinary. - -_Rol._ Your extraordinary cases have become quite usual, Stephen. - -_Ste._ Be you the judge, sir. This gay blood here was troubling the -lady---- - -_Rol._ Glaia! Then he dies! [_Drawing his sword_] - -_Ste._ Orders, orders, sir! - -_Gla._ He did not touch me, Roland. - - _Rol._ Touch thee? If he - No more than looked at thee death is enough. - But had he touched thee---- - - _Gla._ Art thou cruel, Roland? - I thought thee gentle. Wouldst thou make me hate thee? - - _Rol._ You shall not hate me, Glaia. [_Sheathes his sword_] - Let him live. - But take him from my sight. - - [_Exeunt Stephen and Gregory_] - - _Gla._ O, Roland, now - I love thee! - - _Rol._ Love me, Glaia? - - _Gla._ Next to Hubert. - - _Rol._ O, next to Hubert. - - _Gla._ And the boy. - - _Rol._ The boy? - - _Gla._ Henry his name is. Such a pretty youth! - He gave me this,--and see, this jewel here - Is all so precious that it guards the life - Of whoso wears it. He must like me well - To give it me. Dost think he likes me, Roland? - - _Rol._ [_Aside_] O God, the king! ... Give me the baldric, Glaia. - I will return it, for I know the youth. - In truth, I've seen him wear this very belt. - 'Twas wrong to take it, Glaia. He belongs - So wholly to the king that you can have - No portion of his love, lest he betray - Himself and thee. Go, get you ready, child, - To leave this place. For you 'tis full of dangers. - - _Gla._ Back to the woods? O happiness! But I-- - Ah, must we go so soon? - - _Rol._ It was your prayer. - - _Gla._ But then--I had not--strange! Why is it, Roland, - 'Tis not so merry going as I thought? - Is't not a little lonely in the woods? - And yet it never seemed so. Will you come - To see me, Roland? - - _Rol._ Do you want me, Glaia? - - _Gla._ O, yes, dear Roland! And you'll bring the boy? - I want to ask if he will be my brother. - - _Rol._ You must not see him. Go and get you ready. - [_Exit Glaia_] - O, wretched me, to love so frail a thing! - Fragile and pure, thou art not for this world, - Where the same winds that bring thee breath must blow - Thy gentle life out. - - [_Re-enter the king_] - - Sovereign liege, - Count it not boldness if I dare to guess - Your presence here. You come, my lord, to find - This precious property. [_Gives him the belt_] - I know 'tis prized, - And hold me happy that it met my eye - Before another's. - - _Hen._ Gentle Roland, thanks. - I need not ask if you found aught with this - More precious still. - - _Rol._ Nothing that majesty - Might without blushing claim. - - _Hen._ Thank you again. - [_Aside_] I've found the lover! ... Is there news from sea? - - _Rol._ Uncertain news, that I was on my way - To give to you. Report cries victory - For Hubert, but 'tis chance improbable - That he should win, so take a breath, your highness, - Ere you believe. - - _Hen._ The lords must know of this! - - _Rol._ Your majesty, I have a suit to thee. - - _Hen._ A victory! - - _Rol._ If you do hold him dear - Who, by report, has won this doubtful battle, - That saves your kingdom and sets fast your crown, - I beg you hear me! - - _Hen._ Speak, but be not slow, - Good Roland. - - _Rol._ Sire, De Burgh has enemies - Who seek his downfall, for his honesty - Stands rock-like 'tween the throne and treachery. - 'Twas they who wrought to send him feebly forth - 'Gainst odds so great they left no chance of life - Save by God's love and favor. If he wins, - The victor's garland and his king's reward - Will further urge their hate to villainy. - - _Hen._ Who are these foes? - - _Rol._ The earl of Albemarle, - Pembroke and Winchester. - - _Hen._ My very staff! - What proof hast thou? - - _Rol._ I've nothing for your eye. - But in my heart there is a testament - That makes me bold to name them. I would risk - All but my soul to save you such a friend - And virtuous servant as De Burgh, You may - Condemn me---- - - _Hen._ First, I'll watch these lords. - But be they false, where, where shall I find friends? - - _Rol._ 'Mong those who fight your battles, sire, nor fear - To die to save a king. - - [_Exit_] - - _Hen._ [_Seating himself in an alcove_] - I see a king - Must take some thought to keep his crown on 's head. - - [_Re-enter Stephen and Eldra_] - -_Eld._ Dear man, you can't deny it! 'Twas you saved my mistress. But -for my good man drowned at sea I'd love you, sweeting. - -_Ste._ And if you love me it must be by way of kiss and part, for my -good wife is still in the world, I've reason to think, and some day I -shall run plumb into her bonny white arms. But a kiss, my lass, with a -penny to the priest, can do a soldier no harm, and you'll always find -me obliging in everything except matrimony. - -_Eld._ Out! Away! You old father Longbeard! You Johnny Hump-back! - -_Ste._ Hump! 'Tis the squint in your eye, my dearie! I'm as straight as -a poplar in the king's court. - -_Eld._ Squint, sir? May be so, for I'm thinkin' o' my braw handsome -man, an' 'twould make a straight eye squint to see you standin' in his -place, it would. - -_Ste._ An' I'm thinkin' o' my bonny little girl, as plump and tender as -a partridge at her first nest, and out upon you, my fine, fat waddler! - -_Eld._ An my man were here you'd drop to your fours and go like a beast -for shame, you would. The prettiest figure 'tween here and Jerusalem! -He had an arm! He could sling a sword! And such a leg! Dick Lion-heart -never shaped a trimmer stocking. Hair like a raven fannin' the wind! -An eye like Sallydeen's! For all the world a black coal with a fire in -the middle. No watery peepers like present company's. An his eyes were -stars in heaven I could point 'em out! - -_Ste._ O, my sweet wench that's a waitin' for me! When shall I see her -comin' with her head up like a highland doe, an' cheeks as red as my -grandam's nightcap? I think o' her now as she stood on the high rocks -over Logan's frith singin' the song that made the sugar-water start in -my heart. And straight I must gallop wi' her to the kirk-- Hey, what's -the matter, old lady? - -_Eld._ Nothin'--nothin', sir,--just one o' my qualms. - -_Ste._ Do you have 'em ordinary? A pity now. My lass, an she lived a -thousand years, would not he qualmsy. - -_Eld._ [_Aside_] 'Tis Stephen, my own man! And he doesn't know me! O, I -am changed from his ain lassie! He despises me! Waddler! O! - -_Ste._ Chirk up, old duck. When I find my lass---- - - [_Re-enter Orson_] - -_Ors._ Mistress Eldra, what do you gabbling here and my lady calling -you? - - [_Exit Eldra with Orson_] - -_Ste._ Eldra? By Pharo's ghost! Let me see--ten years. It might -be--yes--her very complexion--the pert eye--the little foot--the canny -twitch to her lips--and her man drowned at sea. Well, I'm pickled. She -has built up such a Solomon's glory picture o' me that plain Stephen -Godfrey will never get another chance. _He_ had an arm! Ha! Did I? An -eye like Sallydeen! A leg like Lion-heart! Ha! [_Struts up and down_] -But now I'm father Longbeard. Well, I'll shave off this weeping willow -tree anyhow. - - [_Re-enter Eldra_] - -_Eld._ Good sir, are you here yet? - -_Ste._ [_Aside_] Good sir! Methinks I grow in favor. Ay, sweet madam. - -_Eld._ [_Aside_] He's lookin' softer now. Well a day, this is a world. -Here they brought me and the lady Glaia to make sure we would be safe, -and now they're taking us back for the same reason. Ay me, and a -lonely, dreary place it is we're goin' to, with never a civil gentleman -like yourself to sit out the night wi' a stoop o' ale an' cakes o' my -own raisin'. - -_Ste._ My good madam, if you will give me the tip o' the road, I'll not -be a slow traveller when the business of war will let an honest soldier -course to his liking. - -_Eld._ O, 'tis secret, sir. My lady is hid away for some reason of God -or the devil, and I'll not be so false as to let a stranger on the -track. - -_Ste._ Am I a stranger, madam? Did not my good arm no more than an hour -ago procure me warrant for better treatment? Come! As you say, there'll -be lonely times, and a discreet companion who knows how to keep his -tongue behind his teeth will not come amiss on a rainy day. - -_Eld._ [_Aside_] How can it be harm to tell my own man when the good -priest said we were one flesh? 'Twill only be tellin' my own ears. -Well, sir, if you'll swear by St. Peter's thumb and the crucifix -you'll never let anybody know---- - -_Ste._ By St. Peter's thumb and the crucifix--and your black eyes, -too--I swear! - -_Eld._ Then take the straight road to--O, I'm afraid! - -_Ste._ Courage, my pretty! There's not a cricket to hear you. - -_Eld._ The straight road to Greenot woods, and two miles in the forest -where the brook crosses, ride up the stream half a mile to a tall red -ash standin' alone, and three miles by the path to the right brings you -to the place you'll find me. Now I've done it! No, don't thank me for -bein' a fool. - -_Ste._ Nay, a woman, dearie. - -_Eld._ I must run to my mistress. - - [_Exit Eldra, Stephen following_] - - _Hen._ [_Coming forward_] Go, Stephen with the Lion's leg. You'll haste - If I be not before you. Am I bound - To Margaret? By others' mouths, perhaps. - But certain not at all by oath of mine. - - [_Enter friar Sebastian_] - - What holy gloom comes here? Friar Sebastian, - One time the counsellor to Isabel. - Do you not know me, father? - - _Fr. Seb._ [_Kneeling_] Gracious king! - - _Hen._ Nay, rise and bless me. - - _Fr. Seb._ Hear, my sovereign. - This meeting is not chance. I sought thee here - To tell what palsies me to think on. - - _Hen._ Speak, - Then think of it no more. - - _Fr. Seb._ 'Tis said De Burgh - Has gained the victory 'gainst all expectance. - I know that he was sure he went to death, - Else had he never put unto his lips - The rose that bloomed for one so high above him. - But dreaded death is yet full gracious, sire, - And sanctions rights too bold for life to claim. - - _Hen._ Did Hubert wrong me, father? - - _Fr. Seb._ Alas, my king! - - _Hen._ Come, drop your burden even to my heart - That I may know its weight. - - _Fr. Seb._ Sire, in the hour - That he spent last on land, I married him - To a most noble lady. - - _Hen._ Married? Ha! - Nor asked consent of me? Not one - "By your good leave, my king"? - - _Fr. Seb._ If in my words - So soon you find affront to majesty, - I dare not tell you more. - - _Hen._ Nay, I'll forgive him. - Remembering his service 'twere too stern - To make contention of his marriage. - - _Fr. Seb._ Though he should banish all the woes of England, - Make sorrow alien, and a tear unknown, - Yet has he wronged a king. Though happy mothers - Drop on their knees and let no hour pass by - Without its prayer for him, still has he wronged - A king! - - _Hen._ Wilt never speak because you speak - So much? - - _Fr. Seb._ Here let me lie, and pray your grace - For two long troubled hearts. When I have spoken - Then set thy foot upon my priestly head, - But spare them, spare them, sire! - - _Hen._ Up! Rise, I say, - From this debasement. We shall take good care - To shield your holiness. Now speak! - - _Fr. Seb._ One word - Will tell you--one. - - _Hen._ [_Taking a seat_] And how much time will 't take - To say that word? - - _Fr. Seb._ It is the name of her - Whom knightly Hubert made his wife. - - _Hen._ Is it - A long name, father? - - _Fr. Seb._ [_On his knees_] It is Margaret. - - _Hen._ [_Rising_] Of Scotland? - - _Fr. Seb._ [_Covering his head_] Ay, my liege. - - _Hen._ [_Aside_] Deliverance! - Rise, father, rise, and learn that even a king - Is noble enough to suffer and forgive. - - _Fr. Seb._ Have I my ears? Are these your words, my lord? - Or does some pitying angel alchemize - Them into sounds more fit to reach my weak - And trembling age? - - _Hen._ You hear even as I speak. - 'Tis true that Hubert pitched his love full high. - Good manners had not o'ershot the royal bow; - But take my word no harm shall come to him. - - _Fr. Seb._ He'll need a friend, my liege, for dangers stride - In wake of this rash marriage. - - _Hen._ Leave them - To me. I'll try my fledgling wit in this. - Where is the cardinal? - - _Fr. Seb._ I' the western hall. - - _Hen._ Here come the lords. But first I'll speak with Gualo. - - [_Exeunt Henry and friar Sebastian, left. At right, enter - Albemarle, Winchester and Pembroke_] - - _Pem._ [_To Albemarle_] He has not yet confirmed you chancellor? - - _Alb._ No need, so short his reign. - - _Win._ We should have news. - By this the battle's done. I wonder now - How far is Hubert's head on its long journey - To ocean's bottom? - - _Alb._ May it please your grace, - We think 'tis best that you stay with the king. - If all desert him 'twill look foul in us, - And it will take an honest English face - To keep the people with us. - - _Win._ True, my lord. - And I will stay with him, for I have gone - A little deeper in his heart than you, - And can best turn him to advance our plot. - - _Pem._ While we ride forth to call men to defence-- - In truth to give them hand and foot to Louis-- - You wait here with the king---- - - _Win._ I understand. - And you not coming up, perforce be taken. - Then Henry may lay by his crown, or keep 't - To please his jailer's peeping mammets, or bribe - His turnkey for a slug of meat. - - _Alb._ The jail - Where he must lie is small and needs no keeper; - For who go in so well contented are - They're never known to set foot forth again. - - _Win._ Must go so far? Well, as you please, my lords. - - [_Re-enter Henry, with Cardinal Gualo and attendants_] - - _Alb._ God save your majesty! - - _Hen._ My faithful friends, - Well met. - - _Win._ Ah, still in black, my liege? - - _Hen._ Why not, - My lord? When my poor father in the flesh - Was struck by death they dressed me in this hue; - And heavier cause have I to wear it now, - When he who gave my soul its dearest light-- - My father in nobility above - The blood or happy chance of birth--is gone - To come no more. - - _Win._ But, good, my liege, am I - So little worth that with a strange misfit - I wear his dignity? - - _Hen._ The worthier - You are to wear 't you'll teach me to regret - His goodness lost, and be more pleased to see - How I prize virtue dead, guessing thereby - How dear is living virtue to my soul. - - _Pem._ [_Aside to Albemarle_] Does he suspect? - - _Alb._ 'Twould trouble us. There are - Some captains in the fort would make a way - For his escape. - - _Hen._ You've had no news, my lords? - - _Alb._ We yet wait word, but rest you easy, sire. - Our fleet is safe and proudly bearing home. - - _Hen._ Your faith is strong. - - _Alb._ I have no doubt, my lord. - - _Hen._ Were it not well to take this time to plan De Burgh's reward? - - _Alb._ Ay, 'twere, your majesty. - - _Hen._ What say you, my lord cardinal? You first. - How should we grace his triumph? With what honor? - - _Gualo._ None is too great. I'd place him next the throne. - What think your lordships? - - _Alb._ As yourself, my lord. - [_Aside to Pembroke_] Best humor him. - - _Gualo._ Then further I may speak. - The earl of Kent, who lately met his death, - Has left no heir to his vast lands and name. - I think that God did so provide this place - For honor of De Burgh. And more than this, - Let him be made the great lord chancellor, - And chief justiciary of this troubled realm. - - _Alb._ [_Aside to Pembroke_] Agree. No matter. Gualo's eye is on us. - - _Win._ You speak in happy time, lord cardinal, - And we embrace your meaning heartily. - - _Hen._ This easy payment of so great a debt - Inclines me to forget the dangerous way - De Burgh comes by his honor. We must keep - That ever in our hearts, my worthy lords, - Lest we grow jealous of his climbing fortune. - - _Alb._ I hope we've memories, sire, and honest ones. - - _Hen._ Well, to forfend the bating of his praise - In my poor mind, I'll give a lasting proof - Of how I hold him, and here forfeit right - To Margaret's hand in favor of De Burgh. - - _Alb._ My liege! The princess? - - _Hen._ He is now an earl; - And if I not complain, should any here? - - _Alb._ But, sire---- - - _Pem._ [_Aside to Albemarle_] Submit! 'Tis only for an hour. - - _Alb._ Pardon me that I thought to save you, sire - From such dear sacrifice. - - _Hen._ 'Tis fit we make it, - And ask your fair approval, Albemarle. - - _Alb._ And here I give it, my too gracious king. - [_To an attendant_] Whist! Are the horses saddled? - - _Att._ Ready, sir. - - [_Enter Gregory_] - - _Hen._ Well, captain, well? - - _Greg._ The princess Margaret - And lady Albemarle are at the gates. - - _Alb._ My countess gads for news of her brave brother. - - _Hen._ A worthy quest. [_To Gregory_] See them refreshed and lodged, - But bid them keep their chamber for a time. - - [_Exit Gregory_] - - _Alb._ [_To Pembroke_] Where are our messengers? - Can they be lost? - - _Pem._ We should have heard by now. There's something wrong. - - [_Enter an attendant_] - - _Att._ Your majesty, a messenger! - - _Hen._ From sea? - - [_Enter Gersa_] - - _Ger._ The king! Where is the king? - - _Alb._ Pray use your eyes. - - _Ger._ [_Kneeling_] Your majesty. - - _Hen._ Arise. Your message? - - _Ger._ Sire, - Hubert de Burgh is at the port. - - _Alb._ [_Aside_] How now? - - _Ger._ With all his ships but five. - - _Pem._ [_To Winchester_] But five? What's here? - - _Win._ A witch i' the pot, your lordships. - - _Ger._ For those five - There's fifty of the French gone to the bottom. - The rest are scattered wide, with crippled sails - Begging the winds for mercy. - - _Hen._ Hark, my lords! - Divinity is here. [_To Gersa_] How was this done? - What know you of the battle? - - _Ger._ When we met - The opposing fleet, we crept by swift and silent, - As to escape the fight. So near we coursed - We heard the jeers cast on us as we passed. - Well by, we turned, and with the wind at back, - Bore down full sail and grappled. - - _Hen._ Here were men! - - _Ger._ Then, sire, we cut the lime-sacks on our decks---- - - _Hen._ Lime-sacks? - - _Ger._ Which gave out smarting clouds that rose---- - - _Hen._ Now here were fools! - - _Ger._ Sire, you forget the wind. - The sweeping breeze took up the stinging lime, - Clearing our decks, but wrapping round our foes, - Blinding all eyes. - - _Hen._ St. George! - - _Ger._ 'Twas easy then - To hook our vessels to the great French ships, - Cut down their rigging and make way at will - O'er the wallowing crew. - - _Pem._ Must we believe this tale? - - _Hen._ Goes it against your wish? - - _Pem._ Nay, but 'tis strange. - - _Ger._ [_To Henry_] One hundred knights, eight hundred officers, - Now wait their doom from you. Le Moine was found - Hid in his ship, and offered mighty sums - For his vile life, but Fitzroy closed the parley - By striking off his head. - - _Alb._ What? Le Moine dead? - - _Hen._ Why so amazed, my lord of Albemarle? - Did you not prophesy a victory? - - _Alb._ True, true, my liege, but this surpasses all - My hope of it. Call it a miracle, - Not victory. - - _Gualo._ Call it whate'er you will, - The Lord of Hosts was with this noble knight. - - _Hen._ Not knight, but the right noble earl of Kent, - And for his life our grand justiciary. - [_To Gersa_] Thou art the mavis to a happy dawn. - Come, sing again. - [_Talks aside with him_] - - _Win._ [_To Albemarle and Pembroke_] Your lordships, do you ride? - - _Alb._ What tone is this? - - _Win._ A tone you'll tune to, sir. - Didst think me such a fool to stay and fall - With Henry into Louis' hands? Nay, I've - No wish to enter that small cell of earth - Which needs no turnkey, as you say. - - _Alb._ What, sir? - - _Win._ No, by the Lord! At the first castle where - You planned to stop I had my servants laid - To take you prisoners. It stirs my blood - That you should think I came to the bishopric - By a fool's wit. Now Rome is at my back, - And Henry king! But I'll make peace with you, - For I foresee a power in De Burgh - That warns me not to scorn even traitor strength. - - _Alb._ Ay, we've no fear you'll let this sudden turn - Cut off our fortunes. - - _Hen._ Come, my lords. Come, all! - We'll to the gates to greet the earl of Kent! - - [_Exeunt. Curtain_] - - - - -ACT III - - SCENE 1. _Same as in act second. The king, Pembroke, Albemarle, - Winchester, and other lords entering._ - - - _Hen._ The barons are assembling. On to London, - And call the council. I will join you there. - The revenues long promised shall be paid. - At last I am a king! Will post, my lords? - Night shuffles toward the morn. - - _Pem._ You'll not forget - Your barons' suit, my liege. - - _Hen._ Bring the petition. - I'll look at it, and then--will what I will. - - [_Exit_] - - _Alb._ What new-gown cock is this? - - _Pem._ Will what I will! - And post you, sirs! - - _Win._ The child that hung at knees - Now stands on the great shoulders of De Burgh, - And ports himself a giant o'er our heads. - - _Pem._ Ha, so! This wedge of love 'twixt you and Henry - Quite thrusts you out. - - _Win._ True, sir, but I've in mind - A plot will reach as high as Kent's new head, - Which, with your sworn and loyal aid, I'll push - To fullest stature. - - _Pem._ You have my oath, my lord. - - _Win._ And bond more sure--your spurring need to prick - Kent's swelling strength. But you, lord Albemarle-- - The mighty Kent is brother to your wife, - Which now may count somewhat to lift your fortunes. - - _Alb._ And when didst see my fortunes lie so low - As need the hoisting hand of friend or kin? - Nay, our ambitions swear us enemies! - I stand as free, my lord, as any here. - - _Win._ Then hear my plan. You know I carry all - With the archbishop. - - _Pem._ True. If Winchester would - Trust Canterbury to find way. - - _Win._ Through him - We'll call this council in the name of Rome, - To kill the canker in the bud of peace - So lately ventured in the track of war, - And sound abroad that on this holy day - All weapons, armor, and gross sign of blood - Shall be laid by. I will persuade the king - His dignity is touched to be so quick - To fill his purse before he says his prayers, - And that 'tis wise to throw this goodly bait - To hook the common love. Now to this meeting - Let every prelate bear most righteous arms, - And every baron look well to his sword; - Then when the unsuspecting king appears, - Close companied no doubt by his new earl, - That mushroom minion we will dare accuse - And crop his power as we prize our safety. - - _Pem._ But will not Kent oppose this swordless worship? - - _Win._ Nay, he's afflicted with true piety, - And in the addling flush of high success - Is mellow with the good love of the world. - All men are honest now! Trust me, he'll bait - At what his judgment yesterday had scorned. - - _Alb._ But what have we t' advance with show of right - Against him? - - _Win._ Gualo brings the axe--although - He knows it not--that shall behead De Burgh. - Trust me, my lords, and soon you shall know more. - - _Alb._ Work as you will, for while he is in power - We are but puppets and I dance not well. - - _Win._ I'll ride with Gualo, and begin our move. - Then on to Canterbury. Fare you well, - Till morning bring our bold designs together. - - [_Exit_] - - _Alb._ How, Pembroke? Seest the gull in this? - - _Pem._ It needs - No second sight, my lord. The barons' arms - Outnumber all the feeble prelacy. - - _Alb._ Thinks we'll stop with Kent when Henry stands - Defenceless 'fore us? Come! We too must ride. - - _Pem._ Proud Poitevin! He plots to lose his head, - And give this land a king indeed! - - _Alb._ My Pembroke! - - [_Exeunt. An attendant opens the large doors, rear, lady Albemarle - and the princess Margaret enter_] - - _La. Alb._ What! no one here? We have not seen a soul - But the poor fool who brought us food and wine. - I'll not endure it! Are we prisoners? - Mewed up these hours, when all about there's stir - As Fate changed hands and rumbled destiny. - Such clattering, shifting, revel, and "To horse!" - And we mope here like toothless dames that long - Have lost the world! - - _Att._ Your ladyship, the king - Will see you here. - - _La. Alb._ That's better. He shall beg - My pardon. - [_Seats herself_] - - _Mar._ How canst think of things so slight - When even now your brother may be lost? - - _La. Alb._ I lose no kingdom with him. That's your theme, - And, lord, you don't neglect it. - - _Mar._ [_Walking away from her_] O, for word! - Surely some word has come! - - _La. Alb._ Would I were home! - 'Twas you, my lady, put this journey on me - With prating of my duty to my brother. - But I know why you came. - - _Mar._ O me, you know? - - _La. Alb._ That does not mark me wise. A fool might guess. - - _Mar._ O, I am lost! Dear lady, be my friend! - - _La. Alb._ Why such a fluttering like a lass in folly? - The king was here, and 'twas mere wit in you - To follow after, making me your foil. - - _Mar._ The king? - - _La. Alb._ Ay, ay, the king! I understand - Your cry about my brother. - - _Mar._ O! - - _La. Alb._ Why such an "O!" - As though you'd swallow all the air i' the room - And kill me with vacuity. - - _Mar._ Ah, madam! - - _La. Alb._ You'll not have long to wait. He'll be here soon. - - _Mar._ O, then you think he's safe? - - _La. Alb._ I think he's safe? - Why should he not be safe? - - _Mar._ Could I believe it! - - _La. Alb._ His truest lords are with him. Albemarle - Himself is guard sufficient. - - _Mar._ Albemarle? - He is not with your brother! - - _La. Alb._ Brother? Pah! - How you draw off and on, as 'twere a shame - To love a king! - - _Mar._ The king? Ah--I---- - - _La. Alb._ You ask - If he is safe, and I say safe enough, - Then drops the curtain of your modesty, - And you cry of my brother. Faith, you'll have - Me set about with this till I believe - My brother is the king of England! - - _Mar._ O, - I'm wretched, wretched! - - _La. Alb._ Patience! He'll be here. - True, 'tis most beggarly of him to lag, - But do not doubt he'll come. - - _Mar._ He will not come. - O, never, never, never! - - _La. Alb._ Foolish lass! - He can not stay away from you--his wife. - I might as well be out with 't soon as late. - - _Mar._ O, lady--countess--if you e'er had need - Of gentle friends---- - - _La. Alb._ I know not what to do - With this strange piece of daintiness. Up, mistress! - How will you blush when Henry calls you wife, - If I, in play, can throw you on your knees? - - _Mar._ Henry? God pity me! I am so racked! - - _La. Alb._ Thou art a fool! Up, girl, there's some one comes. - If 't be the king! Quick now, and smooth your face. - If he should wonder at this trace of tears, - I'll tell him why you wept. - - _Mar._ You could not be - So cruel! - - _La. Alb._ Cruel? How? 'Twill please him well - To hear you wept for him. - - _Mar._ For him? - - [_Enter attendant_] - - _Att._ The king. - - _La. Alb._ Now, now, be still. He comes. - - [_Enter Henry_] - - _Hen._ My duty to - My fair and honored guests. And my first suit - Is for your pardon that I come so late; - My next is still for pardon I must haste - Unto my third, and pray the lady Margaret - For word with her alone. - - _La. Alb._ I will withdraw, - My lord. - - _Hen._ [_To attendants_] Attend the countess. - - _Mar._ O! dear Heaven! - - _Hen._ Are you at prayers, sweet lady? - - _Mar._ Say I am, - Can women pray too much, who need so oft - The soft protection of the holy skies? - - _Hen._ Have I been slack in care? Ah, Margaret, - Let youth excuse neglect the past may know. - In future---- - - _Mar._ O, thou hast been all I wish! - - _Hen._ All? All, Margaret? You've been in England - Ten years or more, and understand, I think, - Why you, a child, were sent unto our court. - - _Mar._ My lord, when peace was made with Scotland's king, - I was included in the arbitrament, - But am uncertain of the precise terms, - Though I dare think there was no mention made - Of marriage. - - _Hen._ There was a dowry paid - To English coffers. - - _Mar._ Dowry? Ah, was 't not - A dainty serving of too humble pie? - Mere specious covering for indemnity - Proud Scotland would not pay by such a name? - - _Hen._ May be, but 'twas held wise to join the kingdoms - By current of our blood. - - _Mar._ True at that time - 'Twas best for England to make closer ties - Wi' the north, but now is Scotland on her knees, - And you have naught to fear if you should choose - To set aside my claim. - - _Hen._ The people's eyes - Are on you as their queen. - - _Mar._ They will approve - As readily if you make other choice. - - _Hen._ Then 't seems we both are free to follow love - In any court we please. - - _Mar._ In truth, my lord! - - _Hen._ And you reject me? - - _Mar._ I am not so bold---- - - _Hen._ But, lady, in the world's mouth you will be - My cast off love, for who is there so wise - As to believe you would refuse a king? - - _Mar._ I care not, sir! What is the world to me? - O, let it think as 'twill, if only---- - - _Hen._ Ah, - If only you are saved from me? But, madam, - I can not flip the world away as you. - It is my field of tourney where I joust - For fame and tender reputation. - I must not let men point to you and say - "See Henry's fool!" You shall be wed at once - Unto the lord most powerful in England - Who yet is free. - - _Mar._ O, sir---- - - _Hen._ The earl of Kent. - - _Mar._ Your majesty, be merciful! - - _Hen._ I am. - - _Mar._ My knees were bending to you thankfully, - But you have changed their purpose to a prayer - For veriest pity. The earl of Kent, my lord? - An old, fierce man, who scorns the name of love? - - _Hen._ To you he will be kind. I'll stake my crown, - Once wed to him you'll thank me for this day, - And swear you'd choose him yours from all the world. - He's in the castle now. I'll send him here, - For I'm in haste to bring the marriage on. - Wait here, sweet Margaret. - - [_Opens doors rear, and she passes slowly through_] - - _Mar._ Kill me, my lord! - - _Hen._ Now, by these tears, you'll live to bless me yet, - For from my heart I swear you're better wed - Than if you chose the king. - [_Closes doors and calls attendant_] - Ho, there! - - [_Enter attendant_] I'll see - The earl of Kent. Bid him come in. - - [_Exit attendant_] 'Tis cruel, - But right they should be punished who forgot - A king to please themselves. - - [_Enter Hubert_] - - _Hub._ Your majesty! - - _Hen._ How now, my chancellor? Methinks this day - Should mark the high note of thy singing heart. - But thou art gloomy, as weighing still thy chance - Against the flocking French. Canst not be merry - If Henry bids thee, Hubert? - - _Hub._ Ah, my lord, - I little thought to have escaped the foe. - - _Hen._ Is that to grieve on, man? By Heaven, I'll think - It would have pleased you better to have sunk - My fleet and not the enemy's. Come, come! - What think you of the fortune we've assigned you? - Art satisfied? - - _Hub._ O, 'tis not to be borne! - - _Hen._ I' faith, thou 'rt plain. - - _Hub._ O, dear my liege, I mean---- - - _Hen._ Well, sir, I have another blessing for thee - May prove more welcome. How wouldst like a wife - Of royal blood? I will not tell her name, - But take my word that were my heart not bound - I'd look her way for fetters. She is fair, - Ay, perfect as the lily plucked to grace - A Lord's day altar, yet is proud enough - To hold your new-dropped dignities above - The mire and brambles of the common way; - And all this, sir, shall be your wedded wife. - - _Hub._ My lord---- - - _Hen._ Nay, do not thank me. Ah, at last - I've touched the key of gratitude. Indeed, - My Hubert, you are pale with this new joy. - I almost, fear to tell you she is there-- - Within that room--and waiting your approach. - - _Hub._ My royal lord--I beg---- - - _Hen._ No, not a word - Of thanks. - - _Hub._ Not thanks! There's something else to say! - - _Hen._ What, sir? Wouldst still play hang-lip at thy fortune? - - _Hub._ Hear me, your majesty! - - _Hen._ Nay, I will speak. - Sir, I have done what monarchs seldom do, - Proclaimed my general worthy of his hire, - And paid it, too, and these sour looks from you - Are as the poisonous leaves in a fair garland - Marking it for decay. I've yielded much - Unto your noble merit, but no more - Will yield to your proud humor! - - _Hub._ Hear, my lord---- - - _Hen._ No words! There is the door. Go in and find - The lady that must be your wife, or down - Come all your brave new honors to the ground! - - [_Opens door and forces him through. Margaret is lying on the - floor, her face hidden_] - - _Hub._ O, Heaven! 'Tis Margaret! - - _Mar._ O! [_Leaps up, gazes at Hubert and runs to his arms_] Hubert, - Hubert! - - [_The king closes the doors upon them_] - - _Hen._ The midnight's past. I must away to Glaia, - And by the sunrise at her window sing. - My lords are set toward London. None shall know, - Save Cupid's self, how far I ride to-night. - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -ACT IV - - SCENE 1. _Near the cottage in Greenot woods. Henry, with lute, - singing._ - - - Ope, throw ope thy bower door, - And come thou forth, my sweet! - 'Tis morn, the watch of love is o'er, - And mating hearts should meet. - The stars have fled and left their grace - In every blossom's lifted face, - And gentle shadows fleck the light - With tender memories of the night. - Sweet, there's a door to every shrine; - Wilt thou, as morning, open thine? - Hark! now the lark has met the clouds, - And rains his sheer melodious flood; - The green earth casts her mystic shrouds - To meet the flaming god! - Alas, for me there is no dawn - If Glaia come not with the sun. - - [_Enter Glaia_. _The king kneels as she approaches_] - - _Gla._ 'Tis you! - - _Hen._ [_Leaping up_] Pardoned! Queen of this bowerland, - Your glad eyes tell me that I have not sinned. - - _Gla._ How cam'st thou here? Now who plays Hubert false? - Nay, I'm too glad thou 'rt come to question so. - 'Tis easy to forgive the treachery - That opes our gates to angels. - - _Hen._ O, I'm loved? - - _Gla._ Yes, Henry. All the morn I've thought of you, - And I rose early, for I love to say - Good-by to my dear stars; they seem so wan - And loath to go away, as though they know - The fickle world is thinking of the sun, - And all their gentle service of the night - Is quite forgot. - - _Hen._ And what didst think of me? - - _Gla._ That could you come and see this beauteous wood, - Fair with Spring's love and morning's kiss of grace, - You'd be content to live awhile with me, - Leave war's red step to follow living May - Passing to pour her veins' immortal flood - To each decaying root; and rest by springs - Where waters run to sounds less rude than song, - And hiding sibyls stir sweet prophecies. - - _Hen._ The only springs I seek are in your eyes - That nourish all the desert of myself. - Drop here, O, Glaia, thy transforming dews, - And start fair summer in this waste of me! - - _Gla._ Poor Henry! What dost know of me to love? - - _Hen._ See yon light cloud half-kirtled with faint rose? - What do I know of it but that 'tis fair? - And yet I dream 'twas born of flower dews - And goes to some sweet country of the sky. - So cloud-like dost thou move before my love, - From beauty coming that I may not see, - To beauty going that I can but dream. - O, love me, Glaia! Give to me this hand, - This miracle of warm, unmelting snow, - This lily bit of thee that in my clasp - Lies like a dove in all too rude a cote-- - Wee heaven-cloud to drop on monarch brows - And smooth the ridgy traces of a crown! - Rich me with this, and I'll not fear to dare - The darkest shadow of defeat that broods - O'er sceptres and unfriended kings. - - _Gla._ Why talk - Of crowns and kings? This is our home, dear Henry. - For if you love me you will stay with me. - - _Hen._ Ah, blest to be here, and from morning's top - Review the sunny graces of the world, - Plucking the smilingest to dearer love, - Until the heart becomes the root and spring - Of hopes as natural and as simply sweet - As these bright children of the wedded sun - And dewy earth! - - _Gla._ I knew you'd stay, my brother! - You'll live with me! - - _Hen._ But there's a world not this, - O'er-roofed and fretted by ambition's arch, - Whose sun is power and whose rains are blood, - Whose iris bow is the small golden hoop - That rims the forehead of a king,--a world - Where trampling armies and sedition's march - Cut off the flowers of descanting love - Ere they may sing their perfect word to man, - And the rank weeds of envies, jealousies, - Push up each night from day's hot-beaten paths---- - - _Gla._ O, do not tell me, do not think of it! - - _Hen._ I must. There is my world, and there my life - Must grow to gracious end, if so it can. - If thou wouldst come, my living periapt, - With virtue's gentle legend overwrit, - I should not fail, nor would this flower cheek, - Pure lily cloister of a praying rose, - E'er know the stain of one despoiling tear - Shed for me graceless. Will you come, my Glaia? - - _Gla._ Into that world? No, thou shall stay with me. - Here you shall be a king, not serve one. Ah, - The whispering winds do never counsel false, - And senatorial trees droop not their state - To tribe and treachery. Nature's self shall be - Your minister, the seasons your envoys - And high ambassadors, bearing from His court - The mortal olive of immortal love. - - _Hen._ To man my life belongs. Hope not, dear Glaia, - To bind me here; and if you love me true, - You will not ask me where I go or stay, - But that your feet may stay or go with mine. - Let not a nay unsweet those tender lips - That all their life have ripened for this kiss. - [_Kisses her_] - O ruby purities! I would not give - Their chaste extravagance for fruits Iran - Stored with the honey of a thousand suns - Through the slow measure of as many years! - - _Gla._ Do brothers talk like that? - - _Hen._ I think not, sweet. - - _Gla._ But you will be my brother? - - _Hen._ We shall see. - - _Gla._ And you will stay with me? No? Ah, I fear - All that you love in me is born of these - Wild innocences that I live among, - And far from here, all such sweet value lost, - I'll be as others are in your mad world, - Or wither mortally, even as the sprig - A moment gone so pertly trimmed this bough. - Let us stay here, my Henry. We shall be - Dear playmates ever, never growing old,-- - Or if we do 'twill be at such a pace - Time will grow weary chiding, leaving us - To come at will. - - _Hen._ No, Glaia. Even now - I must be gone. I came for this--to say - I'd come again, and bid you watch for me. - A tear? O, love! One moment, then away! - - [_Exeunt. Curtain_] - - - SCENE 2. _A street in London. Citizens, friars, priests, pass in - devout manner, some bearing crucifixes._ - -_First Cit._ A day, a day, O, such a day! - -_Second Cit._ 'Twill make a new page in our chronicles, the like ne'er -read before. - -_Third Cit._ Nay, when Saxon Edward came back from conquered Wales---- - -_Fourth Cit._ Ay, 'twas such a day of holy joy! - -_Second Cit._ But not so general. - -_First Cit._ And guards with arms kept order in the streets. - -_Third Cit._ But now there's no authority abroad save that comes from -our hearts. Surely the air is charged with drug of peace, and all men -breathe it. - -_First Cit._ Where meets the council? In the Tower chamber? - -_Third Cit._ Nay, at Westminster palace. - - _Second Cit._ That's three miles. - We must push on if we would see them enter. - [_They move off_] - - _First Friar._ How meanly does it speak for this proud world - That when the devil lays his weapons by - And peace and love for one day reign o'er all, - That it should wonder at itself, and cry - "A miracle!" - - _Second Friar._ In holy Edward's time, - The nuns of Beda joined the council in - Concerted praise, for 'twas their prayerful fast - Kept Heaven with the king and gave us Wales; - And 'twas decreed that ever on such days - The nuns from this most blest and ancient abbey - Should with the great assembly kneel in praise. - - _First Friar._ And so they do this day. The legate, Gualo, - Sent invitation from the king. - - _Second Friar._ The king? - This shows most well in him. - - _First Friar._ If we haste on, - We'll see the sisters passing toward the palace. - - _Second friar._ Let's forward then. God save so good - a king! - - [_Exeunt. Curtain_] - - - SCENE 3. _The great hall in Westminster. Barons and prelates - assembled. Rich surcoats open, revealing arms. Enter Henry and the - earl of Kent._ - - _Hen._ My lords, is this the faith you keep with kings? - Then Heaven save me from it! Was 't not your will - This day all arms should hang upon the wall? - Yet you come here as though the trump had called - To sudden battle. - - _Canterbury._ Hear, your majesty, - The cause for which we laid upon our souls - This seeming perjury, and you'll forgive - As Heaven, calling it no stain. - - _Hen._ Sir, let - The movers of this saintly shift speak first. - You, Winchester? You, Albemarle? Canst preach - The lie away? - - _Alb._ My honored liege, these swords, - Surer than bended knees, bespeak your safety. - Knowing that treachery oft defames the ranks - Of those who shine as the highpriests of God, - I and my brother barons came thus armed, - Thinking it better so to break our oaths - Than that false hands should break your kingly staff. - - _Hen._ For my protection then you do offend? - - _Alb._ For that alone, my liege, we wear this armor. - - _Hen._ And you, lord bishop, guardian of our person - By prayer and Heavenly counsel,--who even in war - Should wear no sword but that of righteousness,-- - Confess you with these warlike blades thy Lord - Unable to defend his own? - - _Win._ My liege, - 'Tis in His name, to work His equal justice, - We bear these weapons, sacred by our cause. - - [_Enter Gualo_] - - _Gua._ Your majesty, the nuns of Beda's abbey - Would enter now. - - _Cant._ The nuns? What do they here? - - _Hen._ You know, your grace, since blessed Edward's time - 'T has been their privilege on days of prayer - To join their voices with the court and state. - - _Cant._ A privilege, but never yet in practice. - - _Hen._ The more is England's shame that has not seen - For so long past a day of general prayer - And utter peace. Not in our time, nor John's, - Nor Richard's 'fore him, nay, nor greater Henry's, - Might Beda's sisters claim this privilege. - Lord Cardinal, bid them in. [_Exit Gualo_] - - _Alb._ Nay, nay, my liege, - This is no place for women. - - _Hen._ Are they not - Forever foremost in both prayer and peace? - By Heaven's King, they've more right here than we! - - [_Enter nuns, led by the abbess, who kneels before the king_] - - _Hen._ Rise, holy abbess. - - _Abb._ Sovereign of England, - May Heaven's Sovereign protect thy youth! - And as thy hand is on thy sceptre laid - Feel there the Hand invisible from whence - Thy power comes, and know thy way as His. - - [_Henry bows his head. The abbess and nuns pass to a station apart - and kneel_] - - _Hen._ Say on, lord bishop. Let us hear how priests - May break an oath and Heaven smile upon it. - - _Win._ These papers, dearest liege, are warrant for us. - There is one here so steeped in guilt, the pope - Commands his sentence by our Spiritual Court; - And knowing crime so deep makes fierce defence, - We came thus armed. - - _Hen._ Who of my subjects is so basely given - The pope must urge the sword of justice 'gainst him? - - _Win._ He is so high in your esteem, my liege---- - - _Hen._ Now were he next ourself, our very love, - Excepting one, the noble earl of Kent, - Whom only calumny dare censure, we - Should yield him to thee. - - _Win._ So? Then we did well - To wear these arms, for 'tis no less than Kent - Whom we accuse. - - _Hen._ Kent? Ha! We'll hear your tale - That we may laugh at it. - - _Win._ You'll sooner weep, - I fear. The princess Adelais, of France, - Is free of the infliction that impaired - Her noble mind, and through the pope makes suit - For the recovery of a son--her child - And the great Henry's. Gualo brings this letter, - Beneath the pope's own seal, to England's primate, - His grace of Canterbury. It is signed - By Geoffrey de Burgh, the father of your Kent, - And written five years back to Adelais, - In care of 's Holiness, with the request - That it be given her should she recover. - The purport is--her child has lived to be - A grace to manhood, but that he himself - Approaches death, and from his worthy son, - Hubert de Burgh, she may in proper time - Learn all a mother's heart would know. - - _Hen._ Well plotted! - - _Win._ And here's another paper that great Pembroke, - Dying, laid in my hands. It bears the seal - Of Henry Second, and tells how his son - And Adelais' is given to the charge - Of Geoffrey de Burgh, lord keeper of the Tower - And Dover Castle. - - _Hen._ Keep your paper, sir! - Dost think that I'll believe these parchment tales - Of one whose stainless past the world may read? - - _Win._ That precious past, sire, is the bed whereon - This deed's embossed. All he has done that's noble - Now serves to make this foul. Look at him now! - He has no word, but stands as one made stiff - By sin's confrontment. - - _Hen._ Rather like the god - Was caught 'twixt the burning and the frozen worlds, - For so my too-warm love and your deep hate - Engulf him. - - _Win._ Hear the end, my liege. - - _Hen._ Go on, - If there's an end. - - _Win._ This says that Henry's son, - Arrived at thirty years, shall take his place - 'Mong English nobles as the Duke of Bedford, - And hold in fief five castles, herein named - Rockingham, Harle, Beham and Fotheringay, - With strongest Bedford as his ducal seat; - But if the child should die, his great estate - Shall to the church, and in the church's name - I call De Burgh to show the heir, or prove - That he is dead and by no hidden means. - - _Kent._ The devil, sir, must pay you bounteous hire, - You sweat so in his service. Naught I know - Of ghostly Bedford, or ever heard of him, - Or that my father held a ward in charge. - - _Hen._ We know you innocent. - - _Win._ Then let him prove - His claim to these five castles. Two he holds, - And three were given in dowry with his sister - When she became the wife of Albemarle. - These must he yield, or show that Bedford lives, - Else will the church by force possess its own. - - _Alb._ Mad Winchester! You plot too heavy here. - You know there are no stronger forts in England - Than these three castles that the countess brought me. - And you'd command their strength in wars against - The power of the barons! Yield these forts? - Not while I've breath to fight for what's my own! - Geoffrey de Burgh received them from great Henry - For secret, valiant service, such as knights - Have rarely given kings. Talk you of force? - My sword shall answer you. I will not yield, - And here declare a war! What say you, barons? - - _Pem._ Your cause is ours, and here we draw our swords! - - _Alb._ You hear, lord bishop. Moreover we must take - The person of the king, nor longer risk - His majesty with traitors. Come, my liege. - - _Cant._ What! Take the king? - - _Alb._ Ay, take the king! - - _Win._ While grace - In Heaven lives, we'll keep him from your clutch! - - _Alb._ While we are barons and can lift a sword, - We will defy you and protect the king! - - _Hen._ I am a monarch, and will go or stay - As I do please. Lord barons, not with you. - - _Pem._ Ah, must we force you, sir? - - _Win._ Not from our hands! - - _Alb._ An you do stir, my lord of Winchester, - We'll wash these floors with blood! - - _Cant._ The king is ours! - - _Alb._ Swords write our title! Strike, my friends! - - _Hen._ God, no! - - _Win._ Stay, Albemarle! We do not well to waste - The life of England. If we yield the king, - Will you give up the castles? - - _Pem._ [_To Albemarle_] Say you will. - The king once ours we'll keep the castles, too. - - _Alb._ [_To Winchester_] Then rest it there. Give us the king, and take - The castles. [_Aside_] If you can. Ay, there'll be wars - Will make each stone of England mine. The rocks - And cliffs I'll mark with name of Albemarle! - - _Win._ [_To Henry_] Think not I risk your dear and royal life. - I'll call out troops till trees do seem to walk - And cry for God and Henry! [_To barons_] To your care - We yield the king. - - _Pem._ Then, Henry, come with us. - - _Hen._ Plain Henry, now thy crown is gilt - - _Pem._ We'll put - No pressure on your liberty save that - We must t' enforce our charter rights. - - _Win._ De Burgh - Must to the Tower, there to await our judgment. - Lords Goly and De Vere, conduct him thither. - - _Goly._ Come, sir. You will not move? - - _Kent._ O, Margaret, - Your love divined too well! Now for the sword - You bade me bring, and he who first should lay - A hand upon me---- - - _De Vere._ Come! - - _Pem._ [_To the king_] And you with us. - - _Kent._ Hark, lamb, the wolves are at thee! - - _Goly._ Must we move you? - - _Abb._ [_Coming down_] Off with your hands, in warrior - Michael's name! - Touch not De Burgh! And you--lord barons--you - Who blow the gentle fires of this new peace - With wind of your hot tempers--free the king, - And wait as fathers on his tender years! - - _Alb._ I said, my lords, we should have prating here. - - _Abb._ The midnight vision and long hours of prayer - Give us strange powers, and we see thoughts burn - In your intent would strike their fire against - The stars of war and light disaster o'er - A shuddering world. But you---- - - _Alb._ Back to your beads! - - _Abb._ We'll count our heads in your fast dropping blood! - Wouldst try our swords and see if they be keen? - And if you scorn mine in a woman's hand, - Here is the hand shall bear it to your woe. - - [_Takes sword from under her cloak and gives it to Kent. All the - nuns rise, drop their cloaks and show themselves to be armed men. - The abbess throws off her hood and stands revealed as Margaret_] - - _Hen._ My guards! - - _Kent._ My soldiers! - - _Mar._ Kent will not to Tower - While Margaret of Scotland is his wife. - - _Cant._ Princess, the day is yours, and I, for one, - Thank Heaven 'tis so. - - _Win._ And I. - - _Mar._ Contentious lords, - Forget one hour that ye are baron-peers, - And churchmen clambering to the pinnacle - Topped with a cardinal's cap. Think ye are men - Of England, whose dear duty is to her, - And swear ye brothers as ye are her sons. - Down on your knees! Ask pardon of your king! - - _Win._ [_Kneeling_] O, sovereign liege, in all I said and did - My conscience led me and my God did counsel. - If 'tis a sin to seek the punishment - Of one whom we believe has wronged your blood, - Then have we sinned indeed. - - _Hen._ Wilt swear to drop - This charge 'gainst noble Kent, whose honest soul - Will cloak such guilt when north winds blow their frost - From bosom of the sun? - - _Win._ I swear, my lord, - That your own lips shall be the first to make - Renewal of this charge. - - _Hen._ Rise, Winchester. - You are forgiven, but not yet may take - Your old place in our heart. - [_Albemarle and Pembroke kneel_] - - _Alb._ Were thoughts of men - Writ on the heart's red walls, this sword, my liege, - Should open mine that you might read me clear - Of all intent save truest care for thee. - - _Pem._ And I, my king, sought but the good of England - In all too harshly crying for the rights - Of your long loyal barons. - - _Hen._ Rise, my lords. - We hold you not attainted, but awhile - Must look with careful coldness on your love, - Till by your lives we test this swift repentance. - - _Alb._ O sovereign merciful, we ask no more - Than thus to prove us true. - - _Hen._ Now let this day - Be given as we intended, to His praise - Whose eye doth search the closet of the dark - As freely as the dayplains of the sun, - And reads the minds of men where kings must trust. - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -LORDS AND LOVERS - -PART II - - - - -_CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY_ - - - HENRY III, _King of England_ - EARL OF KENT - EARL OF ALBEMARLE - EARL OF PEMBROKE - ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY - BISHOP OF WINCHESTER - LORD WYNNE - COUNT DE ROUILLET, _attending Adelais_ - STEPHEN GODFREY, _a soldier_ - ORSON, _a servant to Glaia_ - - ADELAIS, _a princess of France_ - MARGARET, _wife of Kent_ - ELEANOR, _wife of Albemarle_ - GLAIA, _ward of Kent_ - ELDRA, _servant to Glaia_ - - _Lords and ladies of the court_, _barons_, _prelates_, _guards_, - _attendants_, _&c._ - - TIME: _13th Century_ - SCENE: _England_ - - - - -ACT I - - SCENE 1. _Autumn in Greenot woods near Glaia's cottage. Table, - seats, mugs and ale. Enter Eldra with a plate of cakes._ - - -_Eld._ [_Putting plate on table_] It's the very day and hour he'll be -coming, and he's not the man to count leaves by the roadside. He likes -my cookin', as I've had proof, and he looks so cunnin' at me lately -I could swear he was fallin' in love all over again. And I'm picking -up my looks, I must say. Ay, there's nothin' like a soft tongue for -keepin' a woman young. I feel 'most like a lassie, though he did say -some words at first that made my heart sore, not knowing me after ten -years away. And he's that handsome yet,--since he's shaved off the -beard that got so between us I didn't know my own good man that married -me in Dummerlie kirk on as sweet a Sunday morn as you ever see, and -the priest in a new frock from Wappington, as the housekeeper told me -herself--La, I forgot my lady! - - [_Runs out. Stephen steps from behind a shrub_] - -_Ste._ So, mistress, you've known me all the time, have you? And me -playin' the fool courtin' my own wife that was ready to jump into my -arms at the drop o' a hat! But I'll play you a game, my lady! - - [_Re-enter Eldra_] - -_Eld._ O, Mr. Stephen! - -_Ste._ Ho, Madam Prune-face! A sweet mornin', now ain't it, but a bit -briskish as suits the season. - -_Eld._ Prune-face! By my lady's glass, I've not a wrinkle yet as big as -the hair on a bat's wing! Plague take the eyes o' him that says it as -shouldn't! - -_Ste._ Well, well, I meant no harm, but mickle it takes to pinch a -bruise. I brought a message to your lady from Sir Roland---- - -_Eld._ Sir Roland? He's a lord now---- - -_Ste._ Ay, 'tween the king and Hubert they've made him a lord. - -_Eld._ _Hubert!_ You mean his grace, the earl of Kent? - -_Ste._ He's still my friend, Meggy. The earldom is nothing between -Hubert and old friends. And I'm a-climbing too. I've had an -advancement, which I don't mind telling you about, but I'll have a bit -o' your brew first and a dozen or so o' them cakes, seein' you took the -trouble. I could never disappoint a woman as had put herself out for -me. [_Sits at table_] - -_Eld._ [_Pouring ale_] It has been a long stretch since you were this -way, sir. - -_Ste._ Eh? Has it? Well, I don't wonder you think so in this sort o' -a place. Not much goin' or comin' round here! But time don't hang wi' -Stephen. There's ridin' and fightin' an' the lassies to comfort---- - -_Eld._ I thought you were honest. You've bragged enough! - -_Ste._ As honest as a soldier, my dear,--and that ought to content any -woman. [_Eldra sits at table_] Yes, sit if you like. I'm not overproud, -though your place is behind a man o' my rank when he's at table. I know -I've eaten wi' you and drunk wi' you, but I've had an advancement, -Meggy, I've had an advancement. [_Takes sip of ale and puts it down_] -Costmary! Well, let 'em as likes it drink it. - -_Eld._ 'Tis nice and balsamy. I thought you'd like it, and saved it o' -purpose. - -_Ste._ Dose me wi' tansy and be done! - - [_Eldra turns her head to wipe away a tear and Stephen gulps the - ale_] - -_Ste._ [_Bites a cake and puts it down_] Poh! - -_Eld._ Don't you like it? - -_Ste._ If I don't mind a lie for manners' sake, I do, but if I've more -respect for truth than manners, I don't. Ain't your hand a little out? - -_Eld._ I thought they were extra nice, sir. I'm sure they rose like -feathers. - -_Ste._ And may blow away for me! But come, don't hang your head, Meggy. -You're too old for that. - -_Eld._ My name is Eldra, sir. - -_Ste._ I know, I know, but I told you that was the name o' my dear lass -that's dead and gone---- - -_Eld._ Dead and gone? - -_Ste._ That's what I said. If she ain't dead, she's where I can't get -her, which is all the same to a soldier, so I've about made up my mind -to give over lookin' for her. Lord, don't cry, little chicken! You are -a soft one. Cryin' to think I've lost such a jewel o' a lass, but I'll -tell you something to make you think better of it. There is somebody -up in old Scotland that I think I'll fetch down for the comfort o' -Stephen--as bonny a woman as a man need want, wi' enough siller laid up -from her old daddy to make a soldier a gentleman. Lizzie o' Logan---- - -_Eld._ Oh-h! - -_Ste._ The qualms again? Now devil take a woman as gets queasy just -when a man wants to be friendly and talk things over. - -_Eld._ [_Aside_] Liz o' Logan! My cousin as was always jealous and -wanted my Stephen! - -_Ste._ Hey, Meggy! [_She runs out, left_] Ha, ha, ha! Poor little -woman! I'm a villain. I'm twenty villains. [_Eldra steals back unseen -and hears him_] To treat my bonny sweet wife so! The cunningest darling -that ever said yes to a soldier! I'll make it all right when she comes -back, and won't there be a smackin' o' lips! [_Eldra makes signs of joy -and revenge and disappears_] Where has she gone? Run off to cry her -sweet eyes out, I'll warrant! I'll go find her. - - [_Exit, left. Eldra and Orson come on, rear_] - -_Ors._ O, is it true? My faithful heart is blest at last? My rival -indeed vanquished? And I--I am your adored one? - -_Eld._ Yes, but don't be a bigger fool than you can help. - -_Ors._ Fool, ma'am? - -_Eld._ There, there, I mean don't forget that you are a man of -dignity---- - -_Ors._ Ah! Don't trouble yourself. - -_Eld._ And cosset me before folks, like a bumpkin with his first lass. - -_Ors._ I'll be patient--before company. Though I should just like to -show that man of blood what my rights are now. But you mean it, Eldra? -This is not another jade's trick? - -_Eld._ 'Tis true--always barring that my man don't come back to claim -me. - -_Ors._ The fishes keep him! [_Re-enter Stephen_] Ah! - -_Eld._ [_Whispers sweetly to Orson, then discovers Stephen_] O, here -he is! Now, Orson, I know you'll be friends wi' Mr. Stephen. Just to -please me now. You see, sir, Orson's been courtin' me many a year, -and I had just about give in like a weak woman, when you came and got -me all upset somehow, lookin' so much like my man who was drowned at -sea, an' his own name too. I did lose my head so at times I could -'a' sworn you were my very man, but what you said about Liz o' Logan -brought me to my right mind again, and Orson is willing to make up, and -I'm sure we can all be friends, only me and Orson won't be presumin', -an' shame take me to think I ever looked so high as a king's man wi' -an advancement--though Orson is a man of dignity now--and--sit down, -Orson! [_Sits at table and pours ale for herself and Orson_] We take -a snip together about this time every mornin'. Orson's got no quarrel -with the ale cost, and he does love my raisin' o' bread and cake. - -_Ors._ And who doesn't let him starve in a ditch! We don't ask you to -sit, Mister Stephen. We know our place, and hope you know yours. - -_Eld._ Ay, a king's man must keep his head high. - -_Ors._ High, my love? - -_Eld._ I mean with an advancement. - -_Ors._ 'Tis well. You know me, Eldra. - -_Eld._ I hope I do, Orson. - -_Ors._ And you must own, my dear, that you came to your right mind in -very good time. - -_Eld._ I'm reasonably thankful, Orson. I know what it is to be a -soldier's wife. - -_Ors._ They lie not between linen, I warrant you. - -_Eld._ Linen? An they get muslin without begging it, they may thank -fortune! - -_Ors._ With never a silk smock for the fair. - -_Eld._ Silk smock? An a new one comes before the old one drops off they -may say their prayers for it! - -_Ors._ But we'll be snug enough, my dear. - -_Eld._ That we will! - -_Ors._ And winter coming on. Ah! - -_Eld._ True enough. - -_Ors._ A good fire. - -_Eld._ Yes, my love. - -_Ors._ A little mulled sack, if the night be wet. - -_Eld._ Indeed, my dear! And a hot posset for your cold, curdled with -sweet wine. - -_Ors._ Humph! A little tart, I beg you, to give it spice. - -_Eld._ Well, our tastes won't quarrel. I know a wife's place. - -_Ors._ By my life, you do! O, 'tis a merry day! Would I were not a man -of dignity now! [_Pats her_] - -_Eld._ Orson! - -_Ors._ I mean--O, come! 'Tis a merry day! Give us a song, mister -soldier! - -_Ste._ I'll give you the devil! - -_Ors._ How, sir? You seem disturbed. Perhaps your reflections are not -so happy as mine. It may be your mistress has not such an adoring -and adorable eye--can not feast you with her cheeks--[_kisses -Eldra_]--regale you with her lips--[_kisses her_] - -_Ste._ Scoundrel! Kiss my wife? [_Takes him by collar and throws him -aside_] - -_Eld._ My Stephen! - -_Ste._ My Eldra! - -_Eld._ [_Running to his arms_] I knew it was you! - -_Ste._ I knew it was you! - -_Eld._ Why didn't you tell me? - -_Ste._ Why didn't you tell me? - -_Ors._ As a man of dignity now, I should like to ask why you didn't -tell _me_! - -_Ste._ [_Dancing up and down stage with Eldra_] Ay, Orson, 'tis a merry -day! Come, come! Here's a good ale for all. To you, Orson! [_Drinks_] -And let the song go 'round! - - [_All sing_] - - Ho, Autumn time, O, Autumn time, - When every wind is jolly, - And pip and pear drop in their prime - For tooth of fun and folly! - - When Hobnail's store is ripe for raids, - And grapes go to the pressing, - And apple checks are like a maid's - When Jack would be a-kissing! - - Ho, hips and haws for vagabonds, - With russets for who'll dare, - And hazels by the meadow ponds, - Brown-sweet for barefoot's fare! - - The pettychaps beflit the larch, - The rocks from barn-top scold, - And summer rogues are on the march - For quarters 'gainst the cold. - - Ho, Autumn time, O, Autumn time! - When every wind is jolly, - And pip and pear drop in their prime - For tooth of fun and folly! - -_Eld._ Hist! My lady is coming with her knight. - -_Ste._ What knight? Nobody should be coming here but the earl of Kent -and my lord of Wynne. Come, lass, what knight? - -_Eld._ O, now it's out, you must be as mum as a dumb man's grave. My -lady has a lover, and a sweet young knight he is, too, who rides out -every week just for a peep at her. List! You can hear them now, just -over the hedge. - -_Ste._ And the master doesn't know! By Heaven, the man's a villain, and -I'm a traitor to my lord of Kent if I don't wring his neck! - -_Eld._ Stephen! Stephen! - -_Ors._ Hold, sir! - -_Ste._ Off with you! I'd drag him out an 'twere the king himself! -[_Leaps through the hedge and pulls the king through_] God's mercy! I -am dead! It is the king! - - [_All kneel to the king. Glaia comes through the hedge_] - - _Gla._ The king? - - _Hen._ 'Tis true. I am that wretched man, - Your sovereign. [_Kneels_] - - _Ste._ [_Aside_] Kneel to a woman! Nay, - Not Stephen! [_Rises_] - - _Hen._ Speak, sweet, and say that I'm forgiven! - - _Gla._ My Henry I'll forgive, but not the king. - - _Hen._ No pity for the king? O, take him, too, - Fair Glaia, crown and all! [_Rises_] Look not away, - Nor down, nor up, nor anywhere but here. - Say thou'lt forgive, we'll instantly to court, - For there's a spirit sits within this hour, - Like silent wisdom in a lovely face, - That gives me confidence. We'll to the court! - I know thou art a maid of noble blood. - For thou'rt indexed with rank's unerring sign, - And dearly limned by Nature for a queen. - Weep not, my sweet, thy lover is a king, - And by my soul, and these dear wildered eyes, - And by the life in these blue wandering veins, - [_kissing her hand_] - These azure rivers in a lily field-- - I'll lift thee high as is the English throne! - - [_Exeunt the king and Glaia_] - -_Ste._ Now there'll be a broil at court to please all the witches on -the island. - -_Eld._ And 'twas you dropped the devil's meat into the pot. O, woe, -woe, woe! That I should live to see my lady wed the king! - -_Ste._ Well, worse could 'a' happened. The king might have had me hung, -and it's bad luck to be a widow twice to the same man. I'm for the -court to keep both eyes open for what sport befalls. - -_Eld._ Sport? O, the poor lord of Wynne! What will he do now? May be -'tis sent on him for worshippin' my lady like the Holy Virgin. Sport? -O, that you should be my husband and a villain! Up with you, Orson! -There's work for such poor servants as we be. - -_Ors._ Servant, ma'am? Dost not think that this high connection of my -lady's will make me lord chamberlain to---- - -_Eld._ Ay, thou'lt get thy right place, I hope, though it be lord -footman to a donkey! Come along with you both! - - [_Exeunt. Re-enter the king and Glaia_] - - _Gla._ I can't believe it yet, your majesty. - - _Hen._ Nay, Henry, love. The name you gave me first. - By that alone I'll live upon your lips. - - _Gla._ I should be gay,--alack, I am half sad. - A sort of music here is gone. Mayhap - I loved my brother better than the king. - - _Hen._ Thy brother? Call me that no more. My bride! - The sleeping angel I would kiss awake, - For waking thou art human and can love. - Ah, Glaia, none doth know how I have dreamed, - For kings must give up all just to be kings-- - How oft at night I've left the palace world - To find me lodging in the sweeter air - Where spirits hold their gentle pageantries, - And meet the winds that blow from destiny - Pregnant with fortune for my famished soul,-- - While they who stood about the royal bed, - Whose stealthful eyes held me in silken jail, - Knew not my body lay untenanted - And they but guarded clay. And everywhere - 'Twas thee I sought, my Glaia. When you came, - I looked, and knew that I need dream no more. - - _Gla._ And thou art no more sad? I make thee happy? - - _Hen._ When I am with thee 'tis continual Spring, - For in my heart is such sweet jugglery - Each winter-ragged month doth put on May. - - _Gla._ It makes me fear to be so much to thee. - O, Henry, leave me,--leave me here a child - That never shall be woman,--ne'er shall seek - The bitter knowledge of the human world. - - [_A fawn comes to her from the wood. She fondles it_] - - See, brother! I would ope no book less pure - Than these large eyes. Ah, me, was ever soul - So full of earth as mine? I can love nothing - But woods and streams, and these unspeaking things - That reasonless may build no dream of God. - My Henry, why this fear that if I go - From this dear world I'll come to it no more? - - _Hen._ Cast off the doubt--and here I trample it. - We shall come often to this home of peace. - But, Glaia, let us go. The hours run fast, - And eve must find me at the court. - - _Gla._ The court? - There does my rival in my lover speak. - There speaks my enemy, for in the court - I shall find that will make these fears all plain. - - _Hen._ Fear nothing now! I see thou knowest how - To please me best, making me woo thee o'er - And o'er again, for naught could be more sweet! - - [_Exeunt. Curtain_] - - - SCENE 2. _Room in Westminster palace. The earl of Kent and - countess of Albemarle talking._ - - _Kent._ Why do you doubt? You've ever trusted me. - - _La. Alb._ Ay, while you were all man. - - _Kent._ So am I now. - - _La. Alb._ Nay, you are one half woman, being married. - A wife's the key may ope her husband's heart - To all the world. She is the pick and pry - To every lock of trust, and weasels through - His secrets spite all seals. Swear, Hubert, swear - That Margaret shall not know! - - _Kent._ Have I not sworn? - How many times will you demand my oath? - - _La. Alb._ A thousand thousand will not bring me peace! - - _Kent._ Ah, Eleanor, why desolate your days - With this wild fear? 'Tis Heaven you've sinned against, - Not man. Look thou above for condemnation. - The world is harsh to virtue, not to sin. - See how the daughter of the earl of Valence, - John's one-time mistress, proudly holds her head, - Nor lacks for fawning followers? And mark - How Rosamond's two sons have fixed their line - Fast 'mong our English peers. If you would dare - To bring sweet Glaia forth, I do not doubt - The court would welcome her as princess born. - - _La. Alb._ But Albemarle! He never would forgive! - Christine of Valence was not wife to him, - Else would her mimic court be dungeon close, - And racks, not lovers, kiss her dainty fingers. - You've never seen his rage! O, swear again - You'll set securest watch on act and tongue, - Nor let---- - - _Kent._ Here is your lord with Winchester. - - _La. Alb._ O! - - _Kent._ Come, I'll satisfy you, Eleanor. - - [_Exeunt, right. Winchester and Albemarle enter rear_] - - _Win._ The name of Kent erases church and state - And king. Fortune grows doting, and would make - A darling of this man. - - _Alb._ She'll change her love, - Doubt not. - - _Win._ 'Tis time. New favors upon him light - As birds on fruity branches. Castles and estates - Are but as feathers every wind brings in. - Dost not begin to fear him? - - _Alb._ You are pleasant. - I fear? When I could lend him half my power, - And yet o'erbear him? In the north there are - One thousand leaders holding swords of me! - - _Win._ I'm answered then? - - _Alb._ Ay, sir. Though not from love - To Kent, nor hate to you, do I deny you. - But I'll not stand the champion of a wanton, - Though royal daughter of a royal sire. - The knightly Albemarles have never stooped - To lift adultery from its miry bed - And set its colors on their virtuous helm. - - _Win._ Now, by your leave, the half of England comes - Into the world by left hand of the priest, - Yet fight and pray as well as you or I, - Nor bates a jot their honor in men's eyes. - - _Alb._ You have my answer. When I'm ready for 't, - I'll tumble Kent to earth in my own fashion, - And not by means that sets French Adelais - On virtue's pinnacle, a star of gilt - To falsely glitter in the eye of dames - And set them wandering with their vanities - Till they forget the way to their true lords. - - _Win._ [_Musing_] I'm writing a court history, your grace. - 'Twas John, I think, who set your countess' father - On fortune's road. - - _Alb._ Nay, 'twas the king before him, - Henry the Second. - - _Win._ [_Going_] Well, my wary lord, - I have no bruise to nurse, and meet the blow - Befalls from any point. - - _Alb._ What do you say? - - _Win._ I say, my lord, I'll strike as pleases me, - And you keep cover as you will. [_Exit_] - - _Alb._ A bruise? - Keep cover? Gods! And I stood still! The dog! - I'll after him and take him by the throat! - - [_Re-enter lady Albemarle, right_] - - _La. Alb._ What said our ancient enemy? - - _Alb._ Enough! - He angered me! - - _La. Alb._ But what the cause, my lord? - - _Alb._ He'll quash the claim the church makes to my castles - If I will aid in bringing Kent to trial - On charge of Adelais, who sojourns here - To push her old appeal. I will not do 't! - - _La. Alb._ Thanks that you shield my brother, by whose rise - You droop. - - _Alb._ I shield your brother? When his name - Is Kent? Nay, you mistake me. I refused - Because this princess was no more nor less - Than Henry Second's mistress, and the son, - Whose death is laid to Kent, was the vile fruit - Of wantonness. A princess! I'd forgive - A milkmaid false, but error in the great - Is so bestarred by its exalted place - That those beneath mistake what is so lustered - For the true sun. - - _La. Alb._ Hast seen the king, my lord? - - _Alb._ I say 'tis guilt of such a heinous sort, - So foully odorous and so far bestrewn, - The sea o'errunning Britain could not wash - The island free of it! - - _La. Alb._ 'Tis very wrong. - - _Alb_ What! Set this princess over all your heads - As she were halo-browed, that you might pray - Her saintly patronage for your loose hopes? - - _La. Alb._ Indeed, it is not well. - - _Alb._ Well? By my life, - Our English dames are running mad enough, - And must be duchesses because--look ye-- - They're wantons to a king! Out on your kind! - [_Aside, slowly_] "'Twas John, I think, who set your countess' father - On fortune's road." You've been a handsome woman-- - Could foot right well on Venus' heels. My soul, - There's beauty in you yet to draw an eye - O'er the picket of defence! - - _La. Alb._ My lord, I pray you---- - - _Alb._ 'Tis well that our young Richard has my eye, - And trick of walk, and way of sudden speech, - Else I'd suspect a cuckoo in the nest, - For all your dainty strictures and high head! - - _La. Alb._ For Christ's sake, Albemarle---- - - _Alb._ Ay, had he not - My very shoulder hitch and swelling neck - This night I'd drag him to the eastern tower - And hurl him to the Thames! - - _La. Alb._ My God! - - _Alb._ For you - I'd pay out my estate in hire of men - To spend their lives devising drawn-out pains - That death might feed and grow upon itself! - - _La. Alb._ Ah, sir, no need. I'm dead now with your words. - - _Alb._ The king is entering. Look up, my dame. - I rage to think you could be false, and not - Because you are. Come, where's your blood, my lady? - Those frosted cheeks are not the royal color. - Smile and I'll pardon you. I know you true. - [_Aside_] But when we're home again we'll talk somewhat - Of those same favors granted to your father. - - [_Enter Pembroke, Winchester, and others. Pembroke and Winchester - talk apart_] - - _Pem._ But where is Gualo? He is friend to Kent. - - _Win._ Shipped back to Rome. - - _Pem._ Well done! - - _Win._ That is made sure. - And now I'll push the claim of Adelais - With all the power pillared by the church. - - _Pem._ Henry will never yield. He wraps the earl - So close in love 'twill shake the throne to part them. - There's no path to the king not barriered - By Kent's unceasing watch. - - _Win._ I'll drop a canker - Will eat a way for us. Ah, here they come. - - _Pem._ Arm-locked as king and king; and eye to eye, - Like lovers changing souls. - - [_Enter Henry_, _Kent_, _Lord Wynne_. _Lords and ladies, among - whom is Margaret, enter behind them_] - - _Hen._ [_To Kent_] I fear to tell you, Hubert, even you. - - _Kent._ I do not fear to hear it, whate'er you do - So well becomes a throne. - - _Hen._ You promise then - Your fullest pardon? - - _Kent._ Your open deeds, my lord, - Bear such a noble front I should not fear - To clap a lusty "ay" to all you've done - In secret. - - _Hen._ Thank you, Kent. And Roland, too,-- - Our good lord Wynne--must echo you with pardon, - For I have touched him when he felt me not, - And shortly he must look upon his wound. - - _Wynne._ I do not fear to see it. You've taught me, sir, - The wounds you give me carry their own heal. - - _Hen._ But this is deep. - - _Wynne._ The richer then the balm. - - _Hen._ Then out, poor Henry, with thy heart's misdeed. - [_Turns to the court_] - - Listen, my lords,--my gracious court,--to you - I make appeal. Is any here who holds - Me in such wintry and removed regard - He would not grant my heart its choice in love? - [_Surprise and silence_] - - _Win._ Your wisdom, sire, that sets the cap of age - Upon the curls of youth, gives us excuse - To bid you choose at will your royal mate. - If I speak not for all, we'll hear dissent. - [_Silence_] - - This silence warrants you to woo and speed. - - _Hen._ That I have done, and now can show to you - This jewel of my choice that late I found - Deep hidden from the world. So fixed my love, - I can not wait to wander through the ways - A king comes to betrothal, and shall win - Your quick assent, even now, by bringing her - To your commending eyes. - [_Exit Henry_] - - _A lord._ What does he mean? - Is this some princely revel? - - _Another lord._ It may be, - And our part is to smile. - - _Win._ [_To Pembroke_] Mark you earl Kent? - He changes face. - - _Pem._ And his pale friend, lord Wynne, - Turns corpse on 's feet. - - _Win._ Ha! Is it possible - They were not privy to this kingly move? - - [_Re-enter Henry, leading Glaia_] - - _Hen._ Here, dear my lords! Look on my choice and say - That here might come Rome's vestals to repair - Their tapers dim. Is she not royal, friends? - See how her eyes look bravely into yours, - Though on her cheek a sweet timidity - Doth couch in coral. Now commend me, all! - And Hubert, earl of Kent, say whence is she, - And what her parentage? For all I know - Is that I found her bowered in Greenot woods. - - _Kent._ My God! - - _Hen._ O, Hubert, muffle up the storm - Rides on your brow, and smile upon my love! - - _Kent._ Believe me, sire, she can not be your wife. - - _Hen._ Not be my wife? Unsay the words, dear Hubert. - You mean, perhaps, she's humbler born than I-- - The daughter of a duke--an earl--a lord-- - Ay, say a knight that bravely bore his shield, - And all the gap 'twixt her degree and mine - Her native graces will bridge o'er and make - Her way unto my throne. - - _Kent._ [_Kneeling_] O, king beloved, - You must believe me! She can not be yours! - - _Hen._ Then, Heaven, turn foul, thou dost not shine for me! - Rise, Hubert, rise, for I must love you still, - Though you have robbed me of the sun and stars. - - _Kent._ [_Rises_] My noblest sovereign! - - _Hen._ Now let me hear - Why this ne'er mated dove can not be mine, - And I'll attend thee patient as the dead - Do list their requiem. - - _Kent._ Sire, I am pledged. - Such sacred oaths are warders at my lips - That angels would turn pale in Heaven to hear - Their violation. - - _Hen._ Oaths? We must not hear? - - _Kent._ Not from my lips. It may be from another's - In better time. - - _Hen._ In better time? By Heaven, - You shall uncover here her history, - And I myself shall say if she may be - My own or no! - - _Kent._ Thy mercy on a man - In one hour old! - - _Hen._ You are the torturer! - O, Hubert, Hubert, I am on my knees! - - _Kent._ Sire, give me leave to go, and take this maid, - So long my care that I must keep her still. - Come, Glaia--child--'tis Hubert takes thy hand. - My sovereign lord, I go with sorrow hence. - I would my tongue were torn from its curst root - Than speak you woe,--but do not hope, my liege, - Your husband hand can ever touch this maid. - The thought to ague shakes my soul! - - [_Exit Kent with Glaia. Margaret would follow, but is detained by - lady Albemarle, who is half swooning. Winchester kneels and kisses - the king's robe_] - - _Win._ My king, - Thou'rt still beloved. - - _Hen._ Ah, what canst say to one - So pinioned by distress that he must lose - His dearest friend or dearest love? - - _Win._ My lord, if friendship may have leave to speak - As fits its holy bond and name---- - - _Hen._ O, speak! - Say anything! - - _Win._ Too long you have been wronged. - Did not Kent win by stealth the Scottish princess, - Your promised bride? Consorting his base blood - With royalty?--which was his secret aim, - And all his burning love for Margaret - But feigned and politic to gain your pity. - Again he's at your heart! And hopes once more - To bear himself to high success. If not, - With face assumed and sorrowing he'll melt - You to forgiveness. - - _Mar._ Listen not, my liege! - - _Hen._ [_To Winchester_] Is this your comfort? - - _Mar._ Sire, he slanders love - As true as God's to men, who says my lord - Is false! - - _Win._ Her pride would say as much, my liege. - As for this maid,--whom majesty might choose, - And all the kingdom feel itself adorned,-- - She's either heir to vast and rich estates, - Or Kent dotes on her with such jealous love - He will not yield her even to his king. - And both these reasons, sire, I urge as one - T' explain his stout refusal to make known - What honesty would haste to shout aloud. - - _Wynne._ Who says that Kent, in friendship or in love, - E'er sought his gain, doth foully lie! - - _Win._ This man - Is Kent's own creature. - - _Hen._ Ah, that's not his sin. - He loves my Glaia, and would make her his. - - _Wynne._ Yes, sire, I love her,--you are right so far,-- - But, sovereign lord, I would expect as soon - To pottle with an angel at an inn - As make her mine. Though Hubert spurred my suit---- - - _Hen._ He favored you! - - _Wynne._ He set no bars between us. - - _Hen._ Ah, you could wed her--let the king go beg! - - _Alb._ Away, you perked-up villain! Out of this! - - _Wynne._ When you come with me, sir, that I may slit - The tongue that fouls my name! - - _Alb._ My hot-mouthed sir, - I'll leave his majesty to teach you better manners. - - _Hen._ And here I do, with a ne'er-ending lesson. - Roland de Born, so lately lord of Wynne, - Thou'rt banished from our realms, not to return, - Though thou shouldst live to see more years than yet - Man ever numbered his. - - _Wynne._ Is this your will? - - _Hen._ In truth, 'tis nothing else! - - _Wynne._ Then, sire, farewell. - Some men are fashioned men by circumstance-- - Shaped by what wind blows on them. In their veins - The heavens croak or sing. Does the sky frown, - They're muddy and befouled,--it smiles, and straight - Fair weather's in their blood, sporting its flag - In their new countenance. Not I, my lords! - Nay, on the winds my soul shall leave its shape, - And where I venture I am what I am, - A knight of England, loyal to his king. [_Exit_] - - _Alb._ Death to his arrogance! - - _Pem._ This judgment, sire, - Is much too modest. - - _Win._ Hear us now, my liege, - For you have heard too little these months past. - - _Hen._ My lords, I am too faint and troubled now - To understand if you be friends or foes, - Or if the earl of Kent be false to me; - But come, and what you choose to speak, I'll hear. - ... Glaia, art gone from me? Ah, who would live? - The winds of doom are sold by Lapland witches, - Who mix the compass points and blow us foul - When we have paid our fortune to go fair. - - [_Exeunt Henry and lords. Lady Albemarle and Margaret are left - alone_] - - _Mar._ Why do you keep me so? - - _La. Alb._ Where would you go? - - _Mar._ Where else but to my lord? - - _La. Alb._ You shall not go. - O, stay with me! One moment, Margaret! - - _Mar._ Another? Nay, you're better. I must go. - O, Eleanor, didst hear that Winchester? - Foul murderer of honor--Hubert's honor! - Can these be tongues of men?... And Roland banished! - - _La. Alb._ Canst think of him? - - _Mar._ He's Hubert's friend. Who now - Will stand by him? - - _La. Alb._ You, Margaret, and I. - - _Mar._ Yes--let me go! - - _La. Alb._ What will you say to him? - - _Mar._ Beg him not let his bitter thoughts usurp - Quite all his heart, but leave a little room - That e'er so small will make me ample heaven. - - _La. Alb._ You will not ask of Glaia? - - _Mar._ Ask? Dost think - That I must ask? - - _La. Alb._ He will not tell thee! - - _Mar._ Not? - I am his heart. His veins run not with health - Except as I know how they course, and beat - Concordantly. Doubt not he'll tell me all. - - _La. Alb._ He shall not tell thee! - - _Mar._ Madam, you are strange. - - _La. Alb._ Ay, Margaret, and strangest to myself. - O, he is true! Dear God, I know he's true! - - _Mar._ Make it no question then. For by the sun, - And heaven's starry clock that now goes by, - You shall not say he's false to Margaret! - - _La. Alb._ To you? Ha! false to you? Dost think my thoughts - Must ever web round you? - - _Mar._ [_Going_] You are his sister. - - _La. Alb._ What, are you gone? Forgive me, Margaret. - - _Mar._ Ah, you forget that I am suffering too. - - _La. Alb._ You suffer? You? - - _Mar._ You have a husband, madam. - - _La. Alb._ I have. Let me remember him. Ha, ha! - You suffer, icicle? What do you know of pain - But as the lookers on about a pit - See one at bottom dying? As curious eyes - Regard the writhing heretic at stake? - Or say, as angels flying heavenward turn - To give one grudged tear unto the damned? - That is your pain, you pure, proud Margaret! - ... O, madness, seize me! - - _Mar._ By my fears you have - No need to pray for 't. - - _La. Alb._ Conscience, where dost sleep? - Let me tread by nor rouse thee. - - _Mar._ Eleanor? - - _La. Alb._ Whence are those floods of fire? O, Hubert, save me! - - _Mar._ Dear Eleanor, be calm. I did not think - You loved your brother so. - - _La. Alb._ What's that you say? - Ah, yes, 'tis Margaret. Go to him now. - Ask of this maid--then blazon all--all--all! - - _Mar._ Come with me, Eleanor. - - _La. Alb._ Drive home the knife - Now threats his heart! - - _Mar._ Come with me, come! - - _La. Alb._ 'Tis fit - His wife should do it! - - _Mar._ Come, dear Eleanor. - - [_Exeunt, right._ _Henry_, _Winchester_, _Albemarle_, _Pembroke_, - _enter rear_] - - _Win._ We're glad you are convinced, my lord. - - _Hen._ Glad, sir? - Glad that one half my heart is mottled, foul, - Diseased, and must be cut away, though I - Die with the cleaving? Ay, I am convinced. - - _Win._ And give consent that Kent be made to answer - The charge of Adelais? - - _Hen._ Be 't as you please. - - _Pem._ 'Twere best to haste in this, ere all the shires - Misled in love by Kent, hear of his danger. - - _Win._ I have the warrant here. It lacks your seal, - My liege. - - _Hen._ [_Quickly sealing it_] Now it does not. Here splits - my heart, - And half falls with thee, Hubert. - - [_Winchester comforts him. Albemarle and Pembroke talk apart_] - - _Pem._ In fewest words, - What purpose you? - - _Alb._ To ride at once to north, - And through my agents stir up a rebellion - Against the king, whom we must make appear - Kent's sole remover, for he now 's become - The idol of the witless multitude, - With whose hot sanction we may move 'gainst Henry - And roll his head as fast as Kent's to hell. - - _Pem._ But you must see the trial. - - _Alb._ So I aim. - But if I'm blocked therein, I look to you - To keep me stationed in my feudal rights, - And what you venture for me I'll make good - With forty thousand men, or horse or foot. - - _Hen._ Where is lord Wynne? Inquire if he has gone? - - _Alb._ He'll trouble you no more, for if my servants - Be to me loyal they've set him toward the sea. - - _Hen._ You're pert in my own matters. I bethought me - I would recall his sentence. He is noble, - And I have done him wrong. Why press about me? - Ye are devils all! Call me the earl of Kent. - - _Win._ He is not here, my lord. - - _Hen._ Give me the warrant. - Quick, sir! I'll have it back! I'll take more time! - - _Win._ 'Tis gone, my liege. - - _Hen._ Gone? Is the devil your post? - - _Pem._ We pray your pardon, sire. - - _Hen._ Could you not give - One little hour to old friends taking leave, - Though one is a poor king? Away from me! - - _Win._ Dear majesty, beloved above all kings, - Let not your frown unpay again the service - Your smile even now rewarded. 'Tis too much, - Howe'er we have endured, to ask our silence - While Kent doth rob thee of a fairer queen - Than ever made a court seem gaudy poor - By her rich self. Must we stand humbly back, - That he may please his bosom with her beauty, - And bury in his lust what forth should shine - Thine and a happy England's constant sun? - - _Pem._ No doubt, my liege, we shall remove each bar - That shuts you from your love, and please ourselves - The most in pleasing you. - - _Hen._ O, make her mine, - And all you wish, if kings have power o'er fate. - Will come to pass. I trust you--yet--and yet-- - Who can be true when Huberts are found false? - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -ACT II - - SCENE 1. _A room in the earl of Kent's palace. An inner room rear, - cut off by curtains. Kent alone._ - - - _Kent._ Now, Eleanor, wilt prove thee saint, or devil? - Wilt mend this breach, or must I perish in it? - Too well I know that soul's dark history - To think it may breed light. The moment globes - The years' full character; a whole life's face - Peeps out in smallest deeds. Yet wonders are. - And Eleanor may prove false to herself - To once keep faith with Heaven. - [_Listens_] Glaia? Ay! - - [_Goes to curtains rear, parts them softly, - looks within and returns_] - - She did not call. I'll watch all night. 'Twill be - No added task since there's no sleep for me. - My Margaret is safe. They dare not touch - A princess of the blood. But I am down. - 'Tis said and sung there is no greater pain - Than wrenches Fortune's nurslings when she flies. - Not so. False lady of the wheel, take all! - But O, to see my king yield to the wolves - Now fang-close to his heart--there is my death! - - [_Sits on a couch, his head bowed. Margaret enters, advances - softly and embraces him. He looks up, returning her caress_] - - Now let the world go on, I'll rest me here. - Why should I keep my hand proud on the helm, - War with the unsated surge, nor know the pause - That is the spirit's silent growing time? - Ah, Margaret, how little will content thee? - No more nor less than love and poorest me? - - _Mar._ No more, my lord. Nor will aught less make full - My greedy cup. Thou wert the king's, but now - Thou art all mine. All mine, my love? Or is - That little "all" my greatest flatterer? - - _Kent._ You know my heart. Where have you been so long? - - _Mar._ With Eleanor. I brought her home with me. - - _Kent._ She's here? - - _Mar._ Yes, Hubert. Ah, she loves you well. - - _Kent._ She loves me? - - _Mar._ Better than you thought. - - _Kent._ [_In sudden hope_] Then ... Speak! - What has she told you? - - _Mar._ Nothing. What, my lord, - Should she have told me? - - _Kent._ [_Dully_] Nothing. - - _Mar._ I have heard - So much of this--this nothing. - - _Kent._ Margaret, - Thou hast my soul. Wilt keep it true for me? - - _Mar._ I keep it? No, I doubt myself. - - _Kent._ Thyself? - Then trust my trust in thee, which meets thy love - As swallows meet the waking winds of Spring - And know where life is. - - _Mar._ Doubt or trust, I love thee! - O Hubert, let us go this night to lands - That know how to be kind and smile on lovers. - - _Kent._ Dost hope by flying England to fly pain, - That everywhere encircles man as fire - To shape his soul in fashion of his God? - - _Mar._ For love and life I beg! Why do I say - For love and life, since there's no life for me - Without thy love? O, you will go with me! - Leave thy ungrateful king to wed at will---- - - _Kent._ Leave Glaia to the king? The thought is flame! - - _Mar._ - [_Standing before him, suddenly tense_] - Who is this maiden that you guard as she - Were the one drop of blood that in your heart - Makes living centre? Who? - - _Kent._ [_After a pause_] You heard my answer. - - _Mar._ Ay, to the king, but not to me--thyself-- - Nay more, for when thou takest away thyself, - Though in the smallest part, so much I die,-- - And by this secret that divorces us - Am wholly slain. But tell it to me, Hubert, - And 'twill become another blessed bond, - To second union closer than the first - Re-sanctioning our souls. - [_He is silent. Her rage overcomes her_] - - Unseal thy lips, - Or by the fires that flit now through my brain, - By the ancestral wrongs within my blood - That start suspicion where there is no foe, - I shall begin to doubt thee! Who is she - To thee who art my husband? - - _Kent._ Margaret, - Go to the maiden lying yon and look - Once more upon her vestal face, then ask - If she know aught of guilt. - [_Margaret looks silently toward the curtains_] - - _Mar._ [_In subdued tone_] She's there? - - _Kent._ Poor child! - I thought you'd be her gentle, elder sister, - And help me still her woeful flutterings. - [_Turns away_] - Where's now the proud, sure strength that made discount - Of Heaven's arm? O, reed-propped vanities, - Swelling usurpful till ye seem our life, - Ye must come down that we may find ourselves - And God. - - _Mar._ O, take me back! I did not know - This spirit dwelt in me. One of my race, - A woman, long ago, stabbed through a heart - That played her false, yet she was gentle too, - And died for what her hand had done. May be - The unquiet dead come back to live in us. - O, it was she stirred this strange passion in me. - Twas not myself. Speak to me, Hubert! Say - 'Twas not myself. - - _Kent._ [_Embracing her_] Sole angel of my love! - - _Mar._ You'll take me back? Let Time begin his count - One minute past, and leave the last one out. - O, say a word will sponge it from the day, - Or all my future must turn back its face - And live with gazing on that minute's point. - - _Kent._ It was not you, my heart. But say it were, - Should I pull down my heaven because a bird - Makes flying blot against it? 'Tis the doubts - That darkly flitting show love's constant sky - Forever radiant. - - _Mar._ O me! O me! - And this is shame! - - _Kent._ Nay, sweet! Weep, if you must, - But let thy tears be rain upon the soul - Making a fair new season. - - _Mar._ Let me die! - - _Kent._ So overwrought? Thou who hast been my strength? - - _Mar._ If I were dead then you---- - - _Kent._ Should be as thou! - 'Tis not thy death but Glaia's that would be - The sad solution of these woes. - - _Mar._ Not her, - So fair ... and dear to us. - - Kent. [_Kissing her_] My gentle love! - ... 'Twere best she died, who now must drink the cup - That makes death sweet in coming. I myself - Almost could guide the knife unto her heart - And cut off ruder visitors. - - _Mar._ O, veil - The thought. Its nakedness has chilled my soul. - - _Kent._ Ay, she is God's, not mine. Leave her to him. - And now, my life, you, too, must go to rest. - - _Mar._ You'll not to bed? - - _Kent._ The king may send for me. - He will not sleep, for in his face was woe - Will quiet not to slumber. - - _Mar._ O, my love, - How can I leave thee now? If thou wert held - By softest sleep on pillows of content - I could no less than weep to go from thee, - And yet these tears are all I have when thou - Art left to sad, despairing watch. I'll stay, - For I've no words to part with, none to tell - How breaks my heart in going. - - _Kent._ Nay, I must work, - And you will call my wits to otherwheres; - Then in the morn these eyes, undewed with sleep, - Will show me not the light that must be mine. - - _Mar._ Dost toy with words to me? Not in my eyes, - But in my heart burns thy unfailing torch, - And if you find it dim it is thy secret - Casts shade between us, not a lack in me. - - _Kent._ If I should speak then oaths were straws in fire. - - _Mar._ O, no, I would not have thee speak. That's past. - 'Tis our misfortune that we are divided - In this most pitchy hour that in itself - Were nothing if our hearts could meet and melt - In unreserved touch. In every life - There comes a watch the soul must keep alone. - The hour has struck for thine. And mine I feel - Is not so far away. Now, now I go, - My lord. Because I help you best in going. - Our hearts would rush together, and the pain - Grows in them baffled. Dearer than life, good night. - I leave my prayers like candles set about you, - And as they fail think of me on my knees - Renewing them from Heaven. [_Exit, right_] - - _Kent._ Margaret! - - [_Pauses, slowly takes up the light and goes off, left, leaving - the room in darkness. Curtain_] - - - SCENE 2. _The same room in darkness. Margaret enters, right, - carrying a taper._ - - _Mar._ I'll look upon her. When sleep slips the rein - The soul plays in the face unguarded. Then - The conscious warder holding up the mask - Before the secret self bares all defence - Unheedful of approach. I'll look, and pray - To find the lineaments so pure by day - Still guileless fair. O, that 'twere yesterday--Sweet - yesterday--when I knew not nor guessed - The sad division 'tween my soul and Hubert's! - O, knowledge, rude defiler of our dreams, - How oft we'd give thy hard, substantial store - To build again with bright illusion's eye - Our happy towers on the inconstant clouds: - [_Sees a light through curtains_] - She's up! No ... who is there? - - [_Veils her taper. Kent comes from the inner room. He carries a - candle_] - - _Kent._ She does not move. - O, Eleanor, how could thy heart give blood - To one so pure that he who loves her best - Would send her back to Heaven? - - _Mar._ [_Unheard by Kent_] Eleanor! - Her child! Her child! - - _Kent._ Fair Glaia, may'st thou rest, - Not ever wake till angels call thee up. - [_Looking back_] Ay, ay, she sleeps. - [_Exit, left_] - - _Mar._ How gracious art thou, God, - To bless me so! O, wicked Eleanor! - This was the fire that maddened thee to-night. - Not fear for Hubert. How couldst make his life - The priceless cloak of thy own worthless shame? - But I can save him! I will make thee speak, - Unsistered woman! - - [_Draws back the curtains, leaving them open, showing - the inner room and bed on which Glaia lies_] - - Glaia, now I'll look, - Nor all thy grace shall hide the lines that mark - Thy cruel mother. Can this be the face - That breeds such misery? Fair heaven-case - Of innocence!... My Hubert's niece, so mine. - How lily-cold in sleep! And still ... so still. - A kiss will not awake thee--one as light - As my own heart. So cold? O, cold as death! - [_Draws back the coverlet_] - - Blood! Blood! A dagger here! O Heaven, - That this smooth coverlet should hide so much! - [_Stands a moment in silent horror_] - - And Hubert thought she slept. "Rest well," he said, - "Nor ever wake till angels call thee up." - Nor wilt thou wake till then, poor Glaia. O, - How can I call him here to look on this! - [_Takes up the dagger_] - Strange that the slayer left his dagger here. - He in whose heart the thought of murder lives - Has more of cunning in him. - [_Drops dagger suddenly_] - Hubert's! O! - - [_Staggers away from bed and holds herself up by the curtains. - Buries her face for an instant, then looks up blanched and - determined_] - - I must act quickly. O, at once--at once! - One pause may be the grave of resolution. - [_Starts toward bed, but stops_] - "She does not move," he said ... and "ay, she sleeps," - As though she slept eternally. - [_Goes to bed, and takes up the dagger_] - His dagger. - Oft has it pleased me to regard this hilt. - Pearls winding like a milky way about - A turquoise heaven. Even then my fate - Lurked in the blade. Why do I talk, and beg - A vile delay? Pain is sole merchant here, - And with each moment amplifies his profit. - ... I will not pray, for prayer is softening, - And I must be too stern to pity self. - I was a princess. I'll not think of that, - For now I am a wife. And for my lord - Must die. They'll find me here, and say the deed - Was mine. My jealous hand avenged my wrong. - ... O gentle Heaven, he is not worthy this! - Nay, nor no man, and yet for every man - There lives a woman who would die for him. - [_Lifts the dagger_] - I can not strike. [_Drops her arm_] I must ... ere I go mad - And leave the event to chance. - - [_Lifts dagger, grows faint and falls with a cry to the floor. - Kent enters, left_] - - _Kent._ Twas Margaret's voice. My love? - [_Advances and sees Margaret on the floor_] - O, life of mine! - [_Looks toward bed_] - Glaia! Uncovered--bleeding--dead! Put out - My eyes! Out ... out. What cruelty yet lives - In Heaven to show me this? O, Eleanor, - Come, come and see how thy one sin has grown - To widest hell! Thy Glaia dead ... even cold ... - And Margaret ... not dead ... but would she were! - [_Bends over her_] - Yea, I could love thee then. My Margaret, - Couldst do this thing? Thy hand was ever tender, - And oft thou coveredst even guilt with mercy. - ... She could not do it.... Ay, she could ... she could. - For her ancestral steps are marked with blood, - And but to-night her eye flashed with a look - That like an evil star did point to this. - [_Knocking without, and opening of gates_] - My summons from the king. Ho, Rufus? - [_Draws coverlet - over Glaia's form_] Glaia, - Thou wert the bud of earth; infinity - Shall wear thy blossom and be proud. - - [_Enter attendant_] - - _Att._ My lord? - - _Kent._ Your mistress faints. Call up her women. Haste! - - [_Exit attendant. Kent takes Margaret in his arms and_ _bears her - off, right. Re-enters, goes to curtains and draws them, concealing - Glaia's bed_] - - O, Henry, _now_ thy heart is struck. - - [_Enter an attendant_] - - Who comes? - - _Att._ Your grace, I do not know. Strange men who give - No name, but say that they must see you. - - _Kent._ Must? - Admit them. - - _Att._ Here, your grace? - - _Kent._ Ay, here. - - [_Exit attendant. Kent picks up dagger from the - floor_] 'Tis mine. - I'll wear my own. [_Hangs dagger at his belt_] - Now is the earl of Kent - A murderer. How feels it with you, sir? - - [_Enter officers and attendants_] - - _Officer._ My lord of Kent, you are our prisoner. - - _Kent._ By whose command? - - _Off._ The king's. - - _Kent._ O, April heart, - Dost think 'twill ne'er be winter? What the crime? - - _Off._ You're charged, on pain of death, to show the son - Of Adelais, of France. - - _Kent._ That sin is old - And faded now. I know another blots - O'er that. I'll burn your ears with 't as we go. - - [_Exeunt. Curtain_] - - - - -ACT III - - SCENE 1. _A small altar room, adjoining the king's apartment. - Henry bowed and kneeling. Enter Winchester and attendant._ - - - _Att._ Since morning he has knelt, and sees no one. - You are the first admitted. - - _Win._ Dear my lord---- - - _Hen._ [_Rising and turning to Winchester_] - Will you, too, tell me she is dead? - - _Win._ Alas---- - - _Hen._ O, not that word--the pretty mask of woe. - That never hid a tear. If she is dead, - Weep and be dumb, or find some word that rends - The heart in uttering it. - - _Win._ My lord---- - - _Hen._ My lord! - You're too polite a mourner, by my faith! - O, Glaia, Glaia, Glaia, art thou dead? - Canst thou then sleep, O, God? - - _Win._ That he does sleep - This deed is proof. - - _Hen._ What deed? 'Tis false! She lives. - 'Twas blessed yester morn I held her here, - And heard her laugh and say my kisses were - Like Maythorn blossoms dropping on her hair. - And can her voice be still? Nay, fiends themselves - Love music, and would spare to put so much - To silence. O, in her tongue the nightingale - Was dead, having no sweeter cause to live. - She could not die. A thousand thousand angels - Would rush to save her and with silvery wings - Beat back the assaulting devil. - - _Win._ Would I could say - She lives! You drain my heart with every tear - You drop upon this woe. Loved majesty, - Look up and weep no more. - - _Hen._ Stop not my tears. - They shall pour sea-like till my body lies - An isle o'erwhelmed. My eyes could lend the skies - Another flood yet lack not moisture.... Glaia! - It was my kiss that slew thee. But for me - Thou hadst been living still. So Winter springs - To clasp his blushing Autumn love, then spends - His weary season burying her dead leaves. - - _Win._ Rouse you, my lord. The creature is alive - That slew her. - - _Hen._ He is found?--and lives--and you - Stand here to tell me? - - _Win._ Hear my story, sire. - When we arrested Kent---- - - _Hen._ Arrested Kent? - You could not wait? Well, we shall see, my lord, - My Glaia loved him and he shall not die. - - _Win._ The moment he was taken he confessed - That he had slain the maid---- - - _Hen._ What is 't you say? - Now, by my life, I thought you said that Kent-- - I'll not repeat it--'twas so strange a thing-- - I'm numb since this dark news, and what I hear - By insurrection of my wits becomes - What I hear not. - - _Win._ Recall yourself, my lord. - Your wits are loyal, and inform you rightly. - I said 'twas Kent---- - - _Hen._ Ha! Now the devil speaks - In his own person. You've thrust the cloven foot - Too far from 'neath the bishop's gown. - - _Win._ My lord---- - - _Hen._ Now I read back and take the hellish measure - Of all your lies! - - _Win._ Your majesty---- - - _Hen._ Sir, I have loved this man, and when I felt - Too weak for England's throne, I laid my head - Upon his breast and there grew strong as he. - And you dare say---- - - _Win._ I do not say, my liege, - The crime is his, but he confessed it so. - Here are the words in which he damns himself. - [_Gives the king a paper_] - - _Hen._ Drop from the world, O sun! Make all the air - Dark as my heart, that from this hour shall know - No re-ascending star! Leave me, my lord. - All's as you please. Do what you will. The world - No more shall draw me forth to look upon it. - Yet I am young, and had but learned to smile. - - [_Enter attendant_] - - _Att._ The earl of Pembroke begs to see my lord - Of Winchester. - - _Hen._ Admit him here. I'll pray. - [_Turns to altar. Enter Pembroke_] - - _Win._ What news, your grace? - - _Pem._ 'Tis strange enough, my lord. - Kent's wife, the princess Margaret, now swears - 'Twas she who took the maiden's life, and speaks - With so much care and proof of circumstance - I scarce can doubt her. - - _Win._ Margaret! - - _Pem._ No other. - She says 'twas she alone, and not her husband. - - _Win._ This fortune wears our colors. Give it welcome. - I feared she'd rouse all England,--Scotland, too,-- - In Kent's defence. You know her blood of old. - But now her hands are bound. - - _Pem._ Then you've no doubt - 'Twas she? - - _Win._ I wish to have none, that's enough - To shape my looks by. - [_Henry rises and comes toward them_] - Ah, my liege, we hear - That Margaret is author of the crime - We now bewail, not Kent. - - _Hen._ That it was either - I can not whip my senses to believe. - - _Win._ She has confessed. - - _Hen._ Why, so did Kent. This shows - A gap in proof. - - _Win._ Kent thought to shield his wife. - - _Hen._ Then he must love her well, and yet your tongue - Struck hard another way. Nay, it is she - Who thinks to save her lord. Poor Margaret, - Thou hadst done better to have wed the king. - - _Win._ My lord, we can not doubt Kent loved this maid. - 'Twas as apparent as the light to eyes; - And he would pause ere put her from his arms - To bed with worms; but this same love would be - Poor Margaret's bitter cause to wish her dead; - And Jealousy, we know, is page to Murder, - Holding the candle for the hellish stroke. - - _Hen._ But why should Kent confess? - - _Win._ With all his sins, - He has the grace of chivalry, and thought - By his confession to save Margaret, - Not caring for his fate since he was doomed - For other crime. - - _Hen._ I'll hear no more, my lord. - A woman ... and that woman--Margaret. - - _Win._ My liege---- - - _Hen._ No more. Here is my seal. 'Tis yours. - And now I beg you go. Nothing is dear - But grief, sole link 'tween me and love. Leave me, - I pray. [_Turns to altar_] - - _Win._ [_Aside, gloating_] Weep, fool, my star is in my hand! - - _Pem._ God send you comfort, sire. - - [_Exeunt Winchester and Pembroke_] - - _Hen._ [_To attendant_] Let none approach me. - - [_Exit attendant._] - - _Henry sings_] - - I laid a rose upon my heart, - Ay me! - Soon 'gan its beauty to depart, - Ay, ay me! - I nursed it with desire, - Still did its beauty go. - For O, my heart was fire, - Cruel fire! - Ay me, I did not know, - I did not know. - - [_Enter a friar through panel door behind altar_] - - Art thou a shadow come to say - All men are shadows and naught living is? - - _Friar._ I come to give God's help and ask for thine, - My son and king. - - _Hen._ 'Tis death, sir, thus to steal - Into my presence. - - _Friar._ So I prove my love - For thee, your highness, venturing life to reach - Thine ear's seclusion. - - _Hen._ What wouldst tell me, father? - I've heard your voice before and found it honest. - By that, mayhap, we'll prove old friends. Come in. - - [_Exeunt_] - - - SCENE 2. _A prison corridor. Kent alone._ - - _Kent._ Is this the end of Kent? The block and axe - His porters to throw ope the sealed gate? - I thought a good wife's prayers had ushered me, - And weeping peers had held my garments back - Until the soul disdained to hide therein. - ... What value's in this world that men will buy 't - With so much groaning? This strange human chaos - Where vice is often merit, merit vice, - Or if they be themselves so change deserts - That wisdom is clapped to gallows, folly to thrones. - And innocence lifts up thin, fettered hands - While guilt walks angel free. Where palsy shakes - The pen from the seer's hand, and crowing health - Bids fools to write; where Fame forgets to blush - At Flattery's board, and Honor, pendulous - 'Twixt bribe and faith, dwindles inert and like - A withered finger shames the hand of state. - ... Where Margarets can stripe their souls' pure white - With guileless blood. She, she that was a dove - To falcon turn and rend a fledgling's breast! - It casts a doubt on Heaven, makes of faith - A leper scourged from man's hale faculties, - And love a monster of diseased minds! - Come, dearest Death, and mis-shaped world away! - [_Margaret is admitted, left, by a turnkey_] - - _Turnkey._ You're honest? All your jewels, ma'am? - - _Mar._ Ay, all! - They have been praised, but had no worth till now - When each one buys a minute with my lord. - - [_Exeunt turnkey, locking door_] - - [_Margaret comes down corridor toward Kent, - her hands behind her_] - - _Kent._ [_Looking up_] What devil drove you here? - - _Mar._ Did Hubert speak? - - _Kent._ What do you want? Why hold away your hands? - Fear not that I'll embrace thee! - - _Mar._ What art thou? - - _Kent._ Nothing to thee, whatever else I am. - Away! For Death and I have just locked hands. - One moment more and I had cozened him - Of all his pain. But you, dear, damned foe, - Take up his weapons and re-gash my wounds. - - _Mar._ Is this my lord? - - _Kent._ Go. I command you. Go! - Eternity drops on me, and lightfoot Time - Hies like a ghost to nothing. What dost here? - - _Mar._ I die. - - _Kent._ You die? No fear of that. You are - Too great a lover of this life that vaunts - A bloated bubble 'twixt immortal shores. - - _Mar._ If once 'twere true--if once I loved this world-- - Thy bitter words have sucked desire to live - From all my senses. As a god I held thee, - Now mocking gods bid me look on whilst thou - Deport'st thyself 'neath mortal. Sir, what plague - Hast met? What conjuration of the skies - Disfigures thee? - - _Kent._ The same that made thyself - A woman. Back unto your world! - - _Mar._ O, true - I loved this life, and held a heart not dead - To music, beauty, sweet and warm delights, - An interest in the season-robing earth, - An entertained eye for fortune's chance, - And too pretentiously I sighed to leave - The unfollowed steps of fair and flying Truth, - And last, poor woman, shrank to change thine arms - For the cold circlet of Elysian clouds; - But you, pervert and monstrous, work my peace, - Unto my eyes deforming all the world - And making the unknown more dear than dream. - - _Kent._ I monstrous? O, thou shame! To've died for you - Were scarcely more than's done each day for love; - But I for you have heaped my name with crime, - Crime that will damn my reputation's snow - While lasts the world and men recount old tales! - - _Mar._ 'Twas for my sake you did it! Ah, I know. - You loved me well. Would you had known me better, - Or loved me less! O, how couldst think my life - Would flower with happiness when sacrifice - Of one as dear to Heaven as myself - Lay burning at its root? Nay, I must wither - Unto this world, but as I fall thy name - Grows fairer, for I have confessed 'twas I. - For love of me you sinned. The punishment - Is mine. - - _Kent._ Confessed? You have confessed? No, no! - - _Mar._ I shall be soon forgot, but your great name - Will live, and since it must, or dark or bright, - I would remove as much of foulness from it - As blood of mine will cleanse. - - _Kent._ You have confessed! - O, God of truth, let man trust to thy mercy, - Not hope to cheat thy justice! You confessed? - Already I was doomed, but you--you might - Have lived. Ay, and you shall! - - [_Comes near her and sees that her hands are fettered_] - - In fetters? You? - By holy Heaven, though giants forged these on - I'd strip them off! [_Breaks her fetters_] - - _Mar._ O, let me wear them, sir! - My bond of blessedness--for I am blest - In dying for your sin! - - _Kent._ That word again? - My sin? - - _Mar._ Forgive me, Hubert. 'Twas no sin. - Indeed, 'twas none. For you were not yourself. - 'Twas madness. Heaven must forgive it thee. - - _Kent._ God help thee, Margaret! Wouldst say I did it? - - _Mar._ Not you, but heavy, secret woe that bred - A demon in your blood to strike poor Glaia,-- - And too-dear love of me which vainly hoped - To give me peace where never peace could be. - O, look not so! At God's own throne 'twill be - Forgiven thee, for surely thou wert tried - As Heaven tries its own. - - _Kent._ Art mad at last? - Thy crime confessed to all the world, and yet - Denied to me, the only heart that knows? - [_She gazes at him, bewildered_] - Poor soul, her madness has been slow enough. - Come, bruised darling, with thy blood-stained hands! - Thou 'rt mine, my only love! - [_Embracing her. She moves from him_] - - _Mar._ 'Tis you that speak - Wild words. My blood-stained hands? They're free of blood - As the pure angel's who writes golden down - The saintliest deeds of men! - - _Kent._ Whate'er thy words, - Thine eyes are true, and there's no madness in them. - But, Margaret, I found thee by her side---- - - _Mar._ 'Twas there I swooned---- - - _Kent._ The dagger in thy hand---- - - _Mar._ Yes, in my hand, but, Hubert--hear me, Hubert! - I saw you come from Glaia's curtained bed, - Slow and despairing, murmuring "She sleeps," - As though you said she slept to wake no more. - I entered, saw her pale, drew back the coverlet-- - There ran the stream that drained her beauty's rose-- - There lay your dagger--yours. And then I thought - By dying there to save your life and name, - But fainted, O, too soon---- - - _Kent._ My heart, my heart! - O, had I done such deed would I have left - My dagger to confess it? Glaia called-- - Not so--I dreamed she called--and going there, - Found her in deepest sleep--or thought I found - Her so--and touched her not lest she should stir - And know her woes again. - - _Mar._ It was not you? - - _Kent._ That question makes your tongue a dagger's point, - And yet my doubt of you was deeper wrong, - Measuring all the difference between - Man's grosser soul and woman's altar-lit. - O, Margaret, some serpent heart planned well - To do this deed and leave the guilt with me. - - _Mar._ Who--who, my Hubert? Nay, it matters not, - Since 'twas not you--not you! In two small words - My heaven is built again! - - _Kent._ We ne'er shall know. - I've foes enough, and one of them perhaps - So sought to cast me deeper by this crime, - And we shall wear his foul and scarlet mark - Even unto our graves,--for we must die. - - _Mar._ Enough that we die sinless. - - _Kent._ O, my love, - Who would have died for me! - - _Mar._ And you, dear lord, - Who took such shame upon you for my sake! - - _Kent._ Death was already on me, and 'twas naught - To make addition to my guilt. But you, - Your heart not pausing, leapt from safety's shore - Into the flood. O, might I live for thee! - A blessed bondman to thy merest wish, - From hour to hour to watch thy graces bloom - As various as Flora when she loves, - And in each furrow of thy brow that writ - Thee mortal set a new April mocking Time! - Then when no more I could dispute his doom, - Enter with thee a star-lit, sweet old age, - The fane of rest, and sanctuary where - All sorrows take their ease. - - _Mar._ Think thou of Heaven. - - _Kent._ But O, how dear this life! The immortal world - Is shrunk to shadow of a single thought, - And this contemned earth is sudden grown - Past circumscription of the mind's fond eye. - No-no--we must not die! - - _Mar._ Wouldst tremble now? - When thou hast love beside thee? Nay, my lord, - Be yet the man of men, whose virtue drew - My wild resisting heart into its sun. - - _Kent._ O, must we leave it all?--the gracious earth - Where we have loved, and heard the robins sing, - And built our nest that song might never cease? - Ah, I am weak, my sweet, and shine but in - The doting tear that dims a true wife's eye. - - _Mar._ 'Tis not my love that paints thee radiant, - But thy own light illumes my eyes to love, - O, lord of mine, the kings of earth in vain - May hope to be thy shadowy parallel, - And where we go, in any court of air - Or cloud or heaven, still must thou be the one - Excelling star. - - _Kent._ [_Clasping her_] Heart of the sun, beat here! - O, thy immortal fire will make Death warm - Ere he can make thee cold. - [_The turnkey opens door at end of corridor_] - - _Mar._ My life, my soul! - - _Kent._ O, God! Celestial marshaller of chance - To some far end of good, let me believe - Thy hand is here, and even on our heads. - - [_The turnkey comes down_] - - Ah, kiss me, kiss me, Heaven's Margaret. - Could I my life concentrate in one beat - I'd dwarf it so and give it in this kiss. - - [_Curtain_] - - - SCENE 3. _A room in the earl of Albemarle's palace. A friar, and - the king in friar's dress, but uncowled, waiting._ - - _Hen._ This is a fitting room for Death's cold jest; - So proudly hung, and filled with comfort's chattels, - As though its owner hoped long respite from - A clayey bed. Where is the tenant, father? - - _Friar._ She'll enter presently,--ah, even now. - - [_Henry puts on cowl. Enter lady Albemarle, bearing a small box - which she holds to her bosom_] - - _La. Alb._ Father, hast brought the holy man? The saint - Whose prayer may save the soul already damned. - - _Fr._ Good daughter---- - - _La. Alb._ Ha! Good devil! That were better! - He's here? Well, send him back. I've changed my mind. - I will not see him,--no, nor you! - - _Fr._ Farewell. - - _La. Alb._ Nay, do not go! Wouldst leave a soul in hell - For humor of the tongue? - [_Friar returns to her_] My soul? Pah, sir! - You think a priest can save it? I want not - Your prayers, but your good service to set right - A wrong. Don't mumble over me! I speak - Because I'm dying. Had I hope to live, - Then right might shift for itself. And you call this - Repentance! Pah! Who can keep mum when death - Turns the last screw? You know the earl of Kent? - My brother? - - _Fr._ Yes, my daughter. - - _La. Alb._ I know that - Will make his peace with Henry--foolish king! - I must go back to tell you--years and years. - [_Turns away as if musing_] - - _Fr._ Speak, lady, in God's name. - - _La. Alb._ I'll tell you all. - But I'll not kneel. I've lived too much on knees. - ... See? Albemarle! He has as many bodies - As he has wishes to keep spy on me. - ... He's gone, and did not speak. He never speaks, - But there's a sort of beast sits in his heart - That growls and I do hear it. - - _Fr._ Peace, good lady. - - _La. Alb._ Ah, good again. Foul, foul and villainous! - Come here, thou holy man. To you I'll speak. - Dost think that ever I was beautiful, - And these long locks once bound a king to me? - - _Hen._ A king? - - _La. Alb._ Ay, royal John. A king indeed! - Angel to me though devil to the world. - None loved him but his Eleanor,--none, none! - The rest were mistresses unto his throne. - I gave my heart, he took me up to his. - Ah, father, do you think that is my sin? - That is my joy, my glory, my one pride. - I'll ne'er repent it until I repent - That e'er I smiled or felt myself alive. - Repent? Nay, father, not till I believe - That marble women are more dear to God - Than we whose hearts are warm with the same love - That beat in His when worlds leapt from His joy. - Come back, O golden summer, when there dwelt - Two happy beings in a magic wood, - Treading not earth but soft enchantment's air, - Until the beast came! There, do you not see him? - Away, black Albemarle! O, mercy, Heaven! - ... Then there was Glaia, bud of our true love---- - - _Hen._ Glaia! - - _La. Alb._ O, happy I, when he my king - Bent over me and said, "Sweet, she is ours!" - - _Hen._ My sister! - - _La. Alb._ What dost say? Thy sister? Ha! - Base monk, I tell thee that her blood was royal - As Henry's own! Ay, nobler! Who shall say - My spirit leapt not o'er pale Isabel's? - - [_Retreats to couch by which is a small table. Puts box on table - and lays her head upon it, weeping_] - - _Hen._ Then Glaia was my sister. Did you hear? - - _Fr._ I heard what I well knew before - By my heart's guess, but had no proof of it. - - _La. Alb._ [_Starting up_] Hear, father! You've heard - nothing yet. Last night - I killed her. Do you hear? I killed her. - - _Hen._ O! - - _La. Alb._ You hear? Ay, for you gasp and mutter prayers. - I thought to go and watch her while she slept, - And walked a devil with me who held close - A dagger--Hubert's--that's my brother, monk. - Still, still, ye swirling fiends that in my brain - Keep your hot dance! Be still!... She lay asleep, - Pain in her heart and beauty on her brow; - Her curls--her father's curls--around her face. - One fell upon my wrist--and see, a burn, - As though its gold were fire. She turned to me, - And murmured as her father did in sleep; - Then, in my hand the knife arose, and fell, - And as my brain rocked sick I heard him say, - My lover, bending o'er me, "She is ours." [_Pauses_] - - _Hen._ And then? - - _La. Alb._ What next I know not, but I think - Some cunning led me to conceal the deed - And make escape. I left the dagger there. - 'Twas Hubert's. You had best be quick, or harm - Will come to him. The world is such a fool! - But wait--O, wait till I am dead! I am - A coward born, and life has bred me such. - Hark! Albemarle is coming! Lock the door! - [_Runs to the table and takes up the box_] - Look--in this box--my lover's letters--see! - I have the key. I'll give it to the devil, - And Albemarle may look for it in hell. - O, I am dying! Hide them for me, priest. - My letters from my king. I'll burn them all. - Nay, nay, sweet, pretty words, lie down with me. - Together we'll grow cold. Ye'd fire enough, - God wot! [_Lies on couch_] - Glaia is dead. Be quiet now. - Hast heard I was her mother? There's a secret-- - No--no--I must not speak it--but 'twill out - By doomsgate, so they say. You are a priest; - Canst tell how far 'tis from the grave to hell? - You think they'll let me lie a little first - And see how 'tis to sleep? 'Tis a long walk, - I'll lie quite still, and give no trouble--none. - [_Dies_] - - _Hen._ Help! Something to revive her. - - _Fr._ It were vain. - Earth has not such restorative. - - _Hen._ Not dead? - - _Fr._ The heavenly amaranth alone can dew - Her brow with life. - - _Hen._ O, Hubert! What am I? - Let me crawl to thy feet, cast off my crown - As I cast off this cowl, and lie in dust - Before thee! O, too late! [_To friar_] - 'Tis as you guessed. - And each confessed in sacrificial love - Hoping to save the other. Tell me now - Who plays the angel here? - - _Fr._ My liege, one who - Would not be here but that he fears no death. - [_Removes his cowl_] - - _Hen._ Roland! - - _Wynne._ My king! - - _Hen._ Not king, but friend, - And equal in this woe. Rise! 'Tis no time - To kneel. What must we do? Now Margaret - Is safe--but Hubert? Even now they doom him. - Barons and church are leagued to prove him guilty, - Nor have I power against their proof to pardon - And keep my throne. - - _Wynne._ Take courage. Thou art king. - - _Hen._ To th' tower then. If majesty is yet - A word of might, we'll dare them all. - - _Wynne._ Now speaks - Yourself. - - _Hen._ I'll be the king! - - _Wynne._ You fill my heart - With singing prophecies. - - _Hen._ But first we'll give - An order for the noble burial - Of this poor woman. Glaia's mother, Roland. - She called me brother, and would have it so. - Ah, little sister, did the angels tell you? - You lived so much with them.... 'Twas I who killed her. - My very hand, and not this poor mad woman's. - I slew them both. Oh, oh, oh! - - _Wynne._ Dear my lord, - Leave grief unto the grave, that it best decks; - The living call us now. - - _Hen._ You talk so, sir, - Who did not love her. - - _Wynne._ O, my lord! - - _Hen._ You did. - Forgive me, friend, that I forgot your heart. - - _Wynne._ If constancy past sacrifice of hope - Is love, I loved her, sire. If to be true - To every wish that rises from her grave - Is love, I love her still. But you, my liege, - Cloud your fidelity, wasting in tears - The moments now devoted by the stars - To rescue one she loved. - - _Hen._ Shame me no more. - We'll give an order here, then to the tower! - - [_Exeunt_] - - - - -ACT IV - - SCENE 1. _The council chamber in the Tower of London. Barons and - prelates assembled. Archbishop of Canterbury presiding. Princess - Adelais present, attended by several French nobles and her women. - She advances before the archbishop._ - - - _Ade._ Ye peers of England, and ye men of God, - Humbly I make my suit. Not as a princess - With vassal pomp and power to awe the eye - And judgment take fore-captive, though a score - Of buried kings have dowered me with veins - Of high regality; nor sue I with - The holy potency of Heaven's pontiff, - Though his own mouth would speak if I were silent, - As speak the skies when tempests chasten earth. - But here, my lords, a lonely woman kneels; - A weary mother weeping her lost son. - You know how all my better years were spent - In that dark wild where wander minds dethroned. - When the dear world came back to me, my cry - Was for my babe--no more a babe, but up - To manhood shot as in a single hour. - And as the hunger takes some starving wretch, - Desire upon me seized to know his love, - And on his breast to die. My lords, mayhap - I am as old as is the oldest here, - But O, so poor in time. I've but that youth, - Brief youth that held its morning roses up - And fled, and this bare, aged now that drops - But aching moments till I've found my son. - - _Cant._ Rise, royal Adelais! Believe that we - Have hearts of men, and know the love of mothers. - But to give back your son belongs to Him - Whose voice doth open graves and call the dead. - - _Ade._ My heart cries that he lives! O, he was here - Five years ago--five little years. Why, 'twas - But yesterday! This letter tells you, sirs. - "Brave and right royal. Great Henry's worthy son." - This letter from the man who guarded him, - Geoffrey de Burgh, an honest, good old man, - And faithful to his king. He could not have - A son so cruel as to kill my son, - Or rob the world of what did so adorn it - And yet none know. - - _Cant._ In grief I say 'tis so; - And England lies in shame that her chief lord, - Raised to administer her vaunted justice, - Should prove so base, so foul, that---- - - _Ade._ O, my lord, - He must be nobler than you think, else would your king - Lift him so high?--make him his friend, - And with an earldom top his risen fortune? - May be he overcapped too many whom - His guilt would please more than his innocence. - - _Cant._ We've given him fair and open trial. Urged him - In name of God and England to declare - His knowledge of the precious living charge - His father left to him. But he is brazen - In flat denial. - - _Ade._ O, your eminence, - May I not see him? Let me plead for truth - With a poor mother's tears. - - _Cant._ You will but hear - The unblushing lie which we have sought to spare you. - - _Ade._ O, let me see him! - - _Cant._ Kent, step forth and tell - This suffering princess what you will. - - _Kent._ [_Coming out from guards_] Dear madam, - Your tears are suitors to my pity---- - - _Ade._ Henry! - - _Kent._ Each drop a supplicant that I would ease - Were such sweet power mine. But, by my soul, - And by the mother's love I never knew - Though dreamed on, I am innocent of blood, - Nor did I ever see or know your son. - - _Ade._ Ah, I have found him, lords! O, you old men, - If any here be old, do you not hear - The mighty Henry speak in this young voice? - My grandsire, Louis, bends that brow on me, - That eye has flashed such light from 'neath a crown. - [_To Kent_] Be not amazed; thou art my only born. - Thy mother's heart could not so falsely beat - As to deny thee! England, be glad with me! - - _Count de Rouillet._ O, pity, Heaven! She is mad again. - - _Win._ Take her away. - - _Ade._ Away? When I have found him? - By those blest stars that drew my feet to his, - I'll not go hence till he may go with me! - - _Kent._ Dear lady, go. I'll come to thee in time. - - _Ade._ I am thy mother. Wilt not call me so? - I've cleared my vision with a sea of tears - And can not be deceived. - - _Cant._ Wouldst call a villain son? A man condemned? - Whose headsman waits even now? - - _Ade._ What has he done? - God does not lie, and 'twas his hand that writ - This countenance to mark a noble mind, - And not to be a villain's fair decoy. - Ah, murder him, but the same axe will strike - My life away, for never shall he go - From out my arms! - - _One of her women._ Come, dearest lady. - - _Win._ Ay, - She must depart. [_To Rouillet_] Pray, lead her off, my lord. - She interrupts the court. - - _Ade._ You'd force me, sir? - Ah, true, I am in England. O, my lords, - I beg you let me stay! I'll not disturb you, - But sit as quiet as the stone I am. - [_Takes a seat. Her women attend her_] - You see, my lords, I'm calm. I have no son. - - _Win._ [_To Canterbury_] This time is poorly spared. - Pray you, proceed. - - _Cant._ Hear then your sentence, Hubert, earl of Kent, - And Margaret, his wife, stand forth with him. - Unto the block you both shall go forthwith---- - - _A guard at door._ The king! - - _Win._ The king? The doors are closed to all! - - _Hen._ [_Entering_] All but the king, lord bishop. Margaret, - I bring a gift--your freedom. Ah, you sinned - When you confessed your guilt, but not before. - Our dearest Glaia died not by your hand, - Nor yet by Kent's. First, lords, know you - The maiden was the daughter of my father-- - Ay, ay, there's proof. She was the child of John - And a fair lady of his court and ours, - Who, dying, made confession to her priest---- - - _Win._ A priest? We know, my lord and king, that priests - Oft sell reports unto the devil's purse. - - _Hen._ That from a churchman? - - _Win._ Would an honest priest - Betray confession? - - _Hen._ This was given, sir, - For open use in Kent's defence. In short, - I was that priest, my lord, and played the monk - To better purpose than I've played the king. - - _Cant._ Your majesty---- - - _Hen._ Is pleased to speak, your grace - This then, my lords, proves Kent had holy reason - For thwarting my vain love. - - _Alb._ Could this be true - And Kent not speak when a bare word had saved him? - - _Hen._ Have you been home to-day, my lord? - - _Alb._ My liege, - Since morn I've ridden hard, and was much pushed - To arrive in season for the trial. - - _Hen._ What news - From north? - - _Alb._ 'Twas south I rode, your majesty, - About my shore estates. - - _Pem._ Sire, I informed you---- - - _Hen._ Ay, so. - - _Alb._ What should I do at home, my liege? - - _Hen._ Comfort your lady, who fast droops to death. - - _Alb._ My wife? But she was well when I set forth. - - _Hen._ You'll find her changed! But we must speak of Kent. - My lords, he was close pledged not to betray - The maiden's parentage for this good reason. - Her mother was his sister, living in dread - Of her harsh present lord, and she besought, - Past power to resist, his oath to die - Ere he should make it known. I know not who - Of you would prove so true to oaths if death - Lay in the keeping, or what hearts are here - Would drain themselves to guard a sister's life. - - _Cant._ Who is this sister, sire? - - _Alb._ This shows that kings - May even be duped like poorer men. All know - That Kent's sole sister is my countess. - - _Hen._ Sir, - We've no mind to deny you. It is she - We mean,--the lady Albemarle. - [_Albemarle staggers_] - - _Pem._ My lord---- - - _Alb._ Air! Stand from me! Give way! I must be gone! - - _Hen._ We must command you stay. - - _Alb._ This air is poison! - - _Hen._ Stay, sir! - - _Alb._ I say not to the king 'tis false, - But to each British lord who hears I swear - 'Tis a foul lie! - - _Hen._ My ears, sir, registered - Her last confession, that 'twas her hand struck - Her daughter's heart, her child and John's. - - _Alb._ Let go! - It was her malady that spoke. I'll to her - And rival death in tortures! God, I will---- - - _Hen._ Death has outstripped you, sir. Her breath is gone. - - _Alb._ Then I'll inflict her body till her ghost - Comes back to shriek in it! - - _Hen._ You're yet too late. - We've given orders for her due interment - As mother of our sister. - - _Alb._ Ha! My servants! - You guard my house? - - _Hen._ We do, my lord. - - _Win._ [_Aside to Canterbury_] Haste, sir, - Or Kent will yet escape. - - _Cant._ Your majesty, - The lady Margaret, thanks to Heaven and you, - Is now at liberty, but the life of Kent - Is forfeited. He must at once to doom. - - _Hen._ Already sentenced, sir? You're hasty reaching - Your black conclusion. Stay a little---- - - _Cant._ Sire, - We moved with deference, respecting him - Who for a time had lived within your bosom. - To longer stay his death would tempt the skies - To draw their mercy from us, seeing it were - So basely used. Guards here for Kent! - - _Hen._ O, stay - One moment, please your eminence. My lord - Of Winchester, I'd see again the papers - First gave excuse to put this guilt on Kent. - - _Win._ And here they are, my liege. - [_Gives him papers_] - There you will read - Of the great trust consigned by Henry Second - To Geoffrey de Burgh, and by him to his son, - As Adelais brings proof. - - [_Enter Wynne, carrying a small box_] - - _Wynne._ Your majesty---- - - _Hen._ [_Reading_] Your patience! Presently we'll hear you. - - _Pem._ What! - The lord of Wynne returned? - - _Alb._ Returned! I doubt - If he has seen salt water. - - _Pem._ But I hope - He has not bent a wizard's eye upon - Our secrets. - - _Hen._ Hear, my lords, this paper given - By dying Pembroke to our Winchester, - Signed, ay, and written, by our grandsire king. - [_Reads_] "And for we know that envious ills assail - The nobly born when not by wedlock blest----" - - _Win._ Nay--'tis not that! My lord, I beg--it is - The other paper! - - _Hen._ [_Reading_] "Till he be a man - And cast a weighty spear, let him be called - De Burgh, and known as Geoffrey's son----" - - _Win._ Hear me---- - - _Hen._ Peter des Roches, here's matter for your death, - Which at your humble suit we'll moderate - To banishment. - - _Win._ O, blasted be this hand---- - - _Wynne._ Curse not the unlucky hand that bared thy sin, - For we have other proof of Kent's high birth. - Within this box where lady Albemarle - Treasured the tokens from her kingly love, - I found a paper of another tenor,-- - A letter from her father, old De Burgh, - To be delivered at his death to one - Called Hubert, his supposed son, wherein - He tells him of his birth and bids him claim - Name and estate as his great father willed. - You know the words, my fallen Winchester,-- - "Rockingham, Harle, Beham and Fotheringay, - With strongest Bedford as his ducal seat." - This letter, as we know, was kept from Kent, - And where 'twas found best tells the why thereof. - - _Ade._ [_Rising_] Who will deny me now? Must I keep still, - Ye lords of England? Have I yet your leave - T' embrace my son? - - _Kent._ [_Crossing to her_] We'll ask no leave, my mother. - Do dreams take flesh, and prayers become alive? - For I have dreamed and prayed to see your face, - Though but in vision, thinking you in Heaven; - And all my life your voice like far off singing - Has followed me. Sometimes it seemed 'twould near - If I might wait in silence, wooing it, - But life that waits no longing pushed me on - With the old loss new in my heart. - - _Ade._ My son! - My only son! O, twice thou'rt born to me! - - _Kent._ And I must double yet thy joy, for see - Thy daughter too. [_Presents Margaret_] - - _Mar._ [_To Adelais_] If thou wilt call me so. - [_Adelais embraces Margaret_] - - _Hen._ Those castles, Albemarle, which were your boast, - Must now revert to their right lordly owner, - The earl of Kent. - - _Alb._ Take them, my liege, take all, - But leave me this good sword which I would wear - As your most loyal subject. - - _Hen._ Nay, my lord, - Your service past but illy recommends you. - You are our prisoner. Guards for Albemarle! - - _Alb._ What does this mean? You cast your crown by this! - - _Hen._ It means, proud man, you are a traitor proved. - You galloped hard last night, and 'twas to death. - Those troops you called on pretence to avenge - The death of Kent will be by Kent commanded. - - _Alb._ [_To Wynne_] 'Tis you who've brought this hell - upon me, villain! - - _Hen._ By your good patience, he is not a villain! - I know not all his merit, but enough - To make him my chief general; asking first - His guard against this plotting Poitevin-- - This unfrocked bishop--should he e'er attempt - To make new friends and land upon our shores. - - _Wynne._ Sire, in my arms he'll find a barrier - High as the devil sealed to enter Heaven. - - _Alb._ [_To Pembroke_] Be lightning in my cause, if you - would save me! - - _Pem._ I go at once to raise what power I can. - - _Hen._ Out, guards, with Albemarle, and keep him close - Till he go forth to death. - - [_Exit Albemarle under guard. Pembroke is hurrying out_] - - Stay, Pembroke. You - Have been too close his brother. 'Tis a pity - To sever you in death, but for the sake - Of your great father dead we're lenient - And banish you the kingdom. - - _Pem._ Sire, I go. - - [_Exit_] - - _Hen._ [_To officer_] Follow him, sir, and see him straightway shipped. - - [_Exit officer_] - - Now Kent may ask and have. What gift shall speak - My great affection? What thy dearest wish? - - _Kent._ Let him not ask for more, who has the love - Of Margaret, his mother, and his king. - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -THE SHEPHERD - -A PLAY IN THREE ACTS - - - - -_CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY_ - - - ADRIAN LAVROV, _the Shepherd of Lonz_ - PETER VETROVA, _an old peasant_ - CATHERINE, _Vetrova's wife_ - VASIL, _grandson of Peter and Catherine_ - VERA, _sister to Vasil_ - KORELENKO, _betrothed to Vera_ - PRINCESS SOPHIE TRAVINSKI - KALUSHKIN, SIMEON, GREGORI, UGO, _peasants of Lonz_ - ANNA, ULIANA, _neighbors to the Vetrovas_ - GREGORIEF, _an ex-prisoner_ - GALOVKINE, _a doctor_ - MANLIEF, _a student_ - COLONEL ORLOFF, _of the Czar's army_ - IRTENIEFF, ZARKOFF, _officers_ - - _Soldiers_, _revolutionists_, _peasants_, _&c._ - - SCENE: _A peasant home in Russia_ - TIME: _June, nineteen hundred and five_ - -NOTE.--The song episode in Act II is adapted from "The Green Book," by -Maurus Jokai. - - - - -ACT I - - SCENE 1. _A room in Peter Vetrova's cottage. Door opens centre - rear into a little yard beyond which is the village street. Centre - right, door into Lavrov's room. Right second entrance leads to - kitchen and garden. Between the two doors right a large brick - stove whitewashed and at present unused. Shelf above stove. A loom - stands in right hand corner rear. A window in rear wall between - loom and door. Before window a small table on which are student's - books and papers. On left side of door a small, rude cabinet is - built in the wall about six feet from floor. A wide bench stands - under cabinet. A small high window in left wall. Near front, very - high up on wall left, hangs a half length portrait of the Saviour._ - - _A table left of centre. Bench before loom. Two or three stools, - one or two plain chairs; and a larger chair, of peasant make, near - table centre._ - - _Glimpses of grass and a fruit-tree in bloom seen through open door - and window rear._ - - _Vetrova discovered, making bark shoes. Catherine sits near him in - the large chair, sewing. Vera at loom. Vasil in door rear with - violin. He ceases playing as curtain rises._ - - -_Vetrova._ That brings back young days, mother. - -_Catherine._ The summer is getting into your head, Petrovich. - -_Vet._ My heels too. If the boy plays any more I shall forget my broken -bones and be off to the forest. - -_Vasil._ I'll keep on forever if I can play your crutch away, -grandfather. - -_Cath._ [_Hastily, as Vasil raises the bow_] No! Enough for to-day. - -_Vera._ [_To herself, as she weaves_] Rags--rags--_rags_! O, if I could -make some of those beautiful things I saw at the bazaar! [_Softly_] Or -just a sweet white coverlet for me and Sasha. [_Turns from the loom to -the others_] - -_Vasil._ [_Who has crossed to Catherine_] If I can please but one it -shall be you, little grandmother. - -_Vera._ [_Running to Vetrova, and sitting on his knee_] And if _I_ -could please but one it should be you, little grandfather! - -_Cath._ [_Removing Vasil's arm from her shoulder_] There, go to your -book, lad. The Shepherd will be coming back. - -_Vasil._ [_Smiling_] I am ready for him.[_Crosses to small table rear, -sits by it, and begins studying. Vera follows him, and they look over -the book together, Vasil explaining, Vera teasing_] - -_Vet._ [_Taking up his work_] I wish you loved the music, Catherine. It -makes things different somehow ... while it lasts. - -_Cath._ 'Tis your spirit, Petrovich. You were never like the rest of -us. The others called you queer, but I knew it was just spirit. - -_Vet._ Eh--yes. Don't you remember the gypsy ring in the forest -forty-five years---- - -_Cath._ How you talk, Petrusha! 'Tis evil times [_looks guardedly at -the young people_] and we are old. - -_Vet._ Yes ... old. We may gather acorns in the woods, mother, but -we shall never find any more flowers. Well enough. The trees would -grow wrinkled with laughter to see an old man dancing beneath them. -Eh--yes, let him stoop, and pick up brush. - -_Cath._ [_Comfortingly_] We have the children, Petrusha. - -_Vet._ [_Sullenly_] We had their father and mother, too. - -_Cath._ We've fared better than others. We've always had our home. - -_Vet._ Because you served in the barin's house and the mistress liked -you. Just chance! And then the barin died and Travinski got hold of -everything. - -_Cath._ But the Shepherd came. - -_Vet._ Another chance! Life oughtn't to owe itself to that. It isn't -living. Those two awful years before the Shepherd came--when Andrei -died--they were real. A part of what _is_. We were like our neighbors -then. Yes. [_Stops talking as Vera crosses to her grandmother_] - -_Vera._ [_Leaning affectionately against Catherine_] How you must love -Vasil, grandmamma, to make him an embroidered blouse out of a piece of -your best blanket! - -_Cath._ He is leaving us, my child. - -_Vera._ You said I should have this if I married Alexander. - -_Cath._ Perhaps these bad times will be over then, and we may be able -to get something new. - -_Vera._ O, these bad times! They will never be over. I've been waiting -for that ever since I was born. - -_Cath._ And we waited before you, child. - -_Vera._ [_Repentant_] I didn't mean it, grandmamma! Can't I help you -make the blouse? But it may not be the fashion in Berlin. I will ask -Sasha what the students wear. [_Takes up a piece of the stuff_] And how -can you sew on winter things in summer time? Winter is so far away,--a -thousand years away. Vasil will never live till winter time. - -_Cath._ [_Shocked_] Vera! - -_Vera._ Well, you know he can't live a thousand years. - -_Cath._ Why does winter seem so far off, dear? - -_Vera._ O, I don't know. [_A slight pause_] Alexander says we can not -be married before winter. - -_Cath._ [_Smiling and laying down her work_] Do you love him so much? -[_Vera buries her face in her grandmother's lap_] And he is right, -dear. You should wait a long time. What can a young man do now? -Everything is uncertain. Nothing is sure but hunger and children. - -_Vera._ [_Looking up_] Isn't it the strangest thing in the world? - -_Cath._ What, dear? - -_Vera._ That he should love me. - -_Cath._ And that you should love him? - -_Vera._ O, no! I couldn't help loving _him_! - -_Cath._ [_Shaking her head and taking up her work_] My thread, child. I -left it in the kitchen. - - [_Exit Vera, second entrance, right_] - -_Vet._ [_Looking after her_] She is like her mother, Catherine. - -_Cath._ Yes ... dear Polya. I thought she was going to have a wilful -heart, but she is just a woman. - -_Vet._ [_Moodily_] I wish they were both with their parents in the only -safe place in Russia, the grave. - -_Cath._ [_Looking at Vasil_] Hush! He will be safe enough soon. The -Shepherd is good to send him away, and he so poor himself. Buy him from -the army, and all. - -_Vet._ Send an innocent lad out of his own country to be safe. - -_Cath._ He is to be a musician as well as a scholar. Berlin is the -place. The Shepherd knows. He could not keep out of trouble at our -universities. You know what you were in your youth, Petrovich. - -_Vet._ I wanted to be a scholar too. But they beat me back. - -_Cath._ You have been a good peasant. You might have been a poor -scholar. And we have had the teachers. Don't you remember the first -night-class in our cottage, and the noble's daughter who wore peasant -clothes and taught grown men to read? That was thirty years ago. - -_Vet._ And she went to Kara for it ... to the mines ... for teaching -men to read. - -_Cath._ But others came. - -_Vet._ And went ... as she did. - -_Cath._ God bless them! We can all read our Bibles now. And the lad is -going to a university. - -_Vet._ 'Tis far, Berlin. I am old. The Shepherd is needed everywhere. -He may go any time. Vasil ought to stay with his sister. - -_Cath._ She has Alexander. - -_Vet._ How long will he keep out of prison with that big heart and hot -head? - -_Cath._ God will protect her. - -_Vet._ As he did her mother! Yes. - -_Cath._ You are hardening your heart, Petrovich. [_Turns toward icon, -crossing herself_] - -_Vera._ [_Re-entering_] Grandmamma! [_Stands in door_] - -_Cath._ The thread, child. - -_Vera._ O, I forgot. Uliana is in the kitchen. - -_Cath._ [_Rising quickly_] Uliana! - -_Vera._ It's bad news, I'm afraid. She keeps wiping her eyes pretending -she isn't. - -_Cath._ Did she tell you anything? - -_Vera._ No, grandmamma. I couldn't make her. - - [_Catherine hurries across to kitchen entrance. Vetrova takes up - his crutch and hobbles after her_] - -_Cath._ [_Sternly_] Stay with the children, Petrovich. [_Exit, closing -door behind her_] - -_Vera._ [_Opening door for Vetrova_] Go on, grandfather. [_Laughs and -kisses him_] Are you afraid? I promise you Vasil and I will stay here. -She wants _you_, I know. - -_Vet._ [_Lifting her chin_] A good child, but too pretty, too pretty. -[_Exit_] - -_Vera._ [_Turns and looks at Vasil, who is absorbed in his book. -Crosses to him_] Vasil? - -_Vasil._ [_Looking up reluctantly_] Ten pages beyond Adrian's mark. He -will be pleased. - -_Vera._ Is there anything you like better than to please Adrian? - -_Vasil._ [_Listening_] Who is in the kitchen? - -_Vera._ Uliana. - -_Vasil._ And you don't want to hear the gossip? - -_Vera._ No. I want to stay with you. [_Guilefully_] You are going away, -you know. - -_Vasil._ [_Rising_] There may be news from---- - -_Vera._ Don't go! I promised. - -_Vasil._ Then it _is_ from Petoff. - -_Vera._ Adrian doesn't want you to hear about such things. - -_Vasil._ [_Sitting down_] Haven't I ears and eyes? They think I don't -know ... but see here. [_Takes up a tablet_] You may read it, Vera. -[_She glances over tablet_] I wrote it this morning. - -_Vera._ It is gay and sad too. But it is not like a June song. There -are no birds and flowers in it. - -_Vasil._ Don't you know who the "Summer Maid" is, Vera? - -_Vera._ Summer herself, isn't she? - -_Vasil._ No, stupid. She is Freedom--Liberty. - -_Vera._ O, Vasil! And the old, dead Winter is---- - -_Vasil._ Yes, the Czar. - -_Vera._ O, I'm afraid! Let me burn it, Vasil. - -_Vasil._ [_Taking it from her_] No. - -_Vera._ Suppose somebody should find it--a spy? - -_Vasil._ He wouldn't understand it. You didn't yourself. - -_Vera._ But I'm a stupid. - -_Vasil._ [_Catching her in his arms_] Are you, little sister? - -_Vera._ Let me have it, Vasil. - -_Vasil._ [_Tears sheet from tablet, folds it and puts it into his -pocket_] No. It's as safe as any piece of paper. - -_Vera._ Adrian won't like it. He says your mind must be free from--all -that. Free for what, Vasil? We want to be free only to do things. - -_Vasil._ [_Laying his hand on his book_] For this,--and this [_softly -touching his violin_],--and this. [_Lifting his pen_] - -_Vera._ O, what a slave! You will have three masters. I want to be free -too, but not for such things. I want to make Sasha happy. - -_Vasil._ A woman's freedom. Free to wear fetters. Have you seen him -to-day? - -_Vera._ No, but---- - -_Vasil._ What? And the sun so high? - -_Vera._ I am waiting for him now. I shall tease him about the great man -who fell in love with me at the bazaar. - -_Vasil._ Who was it wanted to make Sasha happy? - -_Vera._, He ought to be glad that such a splendid officer even looked -at me! - -_Vasil._ And were you glad, Vera? - -_Vera._ No. I ran away. - -_Vasil._ What did Madam Korego say to that? - -_Vera._ [_As Korelenko enters unseen by her_] She said she would never -take me again, and I told her I didn't care, I was going to many Sasha, -who was finer than any officer in the world. - -_Vasil._ Good-morning, Alexander Korelenko. - -_Vera._ [_Whirls about and sees Alexander_] Now I can't tease him! -[_Vasil returns to his book_] - -_Korelenko._ About what, little bird? - -_Vera._ O, I found a new lover at the bazaar. - -_Kore._ [_Smiling_] I told Madam Korego it would never do to take you. - -_Vera._ A fine gentleman, all covered with gold lace. - -_Kore._ And he gave you a piece to weep over when you are only poor -little madam Korelenko? - -_Vera._ A very great man--General Petrizoff! - -_Kore._ [_Starting furiously_] Has that--has _he_ looked at you? -[_Walks from her_] - -_Vera._ [_Imploring_] Sasha! - -_Kore._ [_Turning back to her_] My little one! I'm a jealous fool! He -will not hunt out you, poor little you. [_Holds her to him, and shakes -a clenched fist behind her back. Adrian enters by street door and goes -up to Korelenko_] - -_Adrian._ You would hold love in your heart and hate in your hand, -Alexander? - -_Vera._ [_Freeing herself_] O, Adrian! [_Takes his hat and stick_] You -are tired. I will bring you some tea. - -_Adr._ No, little sister. Lay the table in the garden. It makes one -hungry to walk from Petoff. - -_Vera._ So far! Sit down, you bad little brother! [_Leads him, to the -large chair, and goes toward kitchen_] In three minutes! [_Listens at -door and says softly_] Uliana is gone. - - [_Exit_] - -_Kore._ What of Petoff? - -_Adr._ [_Looks about and sees Vasil at his book_] Vasil, lad, a cup of -water from the garden well. The roads are unusually dusty for the first -of June. - - [_Exit Vasil, kitchen way_] - -_Kore._ You are wrong, Adrian. It is time for him to know man's work. -This is not a day for dreamers. - -_Adr._ For dreamers, no,--but a dreamer, yes. Can we not spare _one_ to -step out of the days to a place in the ages? We shall die, indeed, if -there is none to sing us. - -_Kore._ He must know his theme then. - -_Adr._ He shall know it,--when he knows art so well that life can not -tempt him to die. I will save his youth, his enthusiasm, and then ... -he may please himself. - -_Kore._ No use. Our prisons are full of buried enthusiasms. He must -take his fate with the rest of us. This is the world, not a fairy's -cockle-shell. You can't save him. - -_Adr._ I must. In him Heaven has given me back my own youth. I shall -not surrender it a second time. - -_Kore._ He belongs to himself, and he will soon find out that he is a -man and a Russian. But Petoff? What did you find there? - -_Adr._ Despair, desolation, death. That is all they have gained by -revolt. - -_Kore._ No! They have gained the name of men. To have submitted to be -stripped and turned bleeding under the skies would have proved them -lower than beasts. - - [_Enter Vetrova, right, with cup of water_] - -_Vet._ I begged the cup of Vasil. Let me die when I can not serve -Adrian Lavrov. - -_Adr._ [_Advancing to him and taking the cup_] Thank you, Petrovich. I -would rather serve you. [_Drinks_] - -_Vet._ Are we safe, Adrian Lavrov? Is Lonz at peace? - -_Adr._ Yes, Petrovich. I have Prince Travinski's word that we shall not -be molested so long as we are patient under the law. - -_Kore._ The law? Under robbery and the rod! Patience under the foot of -your master! - -_Adr._ The slave can always rise above the master by forgiving him. -Go among our neighbors, Petrovich, and let them know they need fear -nothing while they themselves keep the peace. - -_Vet._ Heaven, and the Shepherd of Lonz, be praised! - - [_Places cup on table and goes out street door_] - -_Kore._ You saw Travinski? How did you manage it? He has steadily -refused to see any one from the people. - -_Adr._ And he refused to see me at first, but as I was coming away I -met a lady who interceded for me. - -_Kore._ His daughter? The princess Sophie? - -_Adr._ No. Sophie Remon. One of the Red Cross workers. - -_Kore._ Remon? I don't know her. - -_Adr._ Her district is farther north, but she comes here occasionally. - -_Kore._ She must have great influence. - -_Adr._ Yes. I was surprised to meet her in the palace. - -_Kore._ Naturally. In the enemy's camp. A spy on one side or the other. - -_Adr._ [_Sternly_] I, too, was in the palace, Korelenko. - -_Kore._ [_Looking at him closely, after a surprised start_] All right. -I suppose she explained her presence there. - -_Adr._ I asked nothing. She is probably a friend of the princess. - -_Kore._ I hope not. She can't be her friend and yours too. - -_Adr._ Why not? - -_Kore._ I learned to-day that the princess Sophie is one of Petrizoff's -spies. She has a wager with him, a luck-piece against a tiara, that she -will secure evidence to convict you. - -_Adr._ Petrizoff need not be at so much trouble. He can imprison me -without evidence when he pleases. - -_Kore._ Not you. That may do for other poor devils, but you have -friends all over Russia. It would make too much of a stir even for -Petrizoff. He would have to show the papers---- - - [_Re-enter Vera, right_] - -_Vera._ Have you forgotten you were hungry? - -_Adr._ Come, Sasha. - - [_They go out, right, with Vera, as Vetrova and princess Sophie - Travinski appear at street door. She wears a_ _long gray ulster - marked with a red cross, and a plain, drooping hat with veil_] - -_Sophie._ Thank you, sir. I might have missed the house. - -_Vet._ [_As they enter_] Bless you, no! There's not a child in the -village out of its cradle that couldn't tell you where the Shepherd -lives. - -_Soph._ [_Looking about the room_] And he lives here? - -_Vet._ As I've told you, lady,--with me, old Vetrova. Ten years since -he came in at that door to be a son to me and Catherine. - -_Soph._ He has lived here ten years? - -_Vet._ Not all of that, for he is often called away. But he always -comes back. 'Tis never too far to come back. [_Draws up the large -chair_] Will you sit here, madam? - -_Soph._ You have a granddaughter? [_Sitting_] - -_Vet._ Little Vera,--and a grandson, too. Twins, though not a bit -alike, as you may see for yourself before you go. 'Twas Vasil, my -grandson, who brought the Shepherd to us. He was just seven years old -then, and a fine lad. We can say that about our grandchildren, ma'am. -The Shepherd loved him at first sight, and a father he's been to him -ever since. His own father, my Andrei, died under the rod one bad year -when taxes couldn't be paid, and his wife--the little mother--died too -when they brought him in. She dropped like that. But we don't tell -the children. They'll not have to dig up graves for trouble. [_Going -right_] I'll let the Shepherd know you are here. - -_Soph._ [_In sudden confusion_] Wait--I mean--yes--tell him I am here. - -_Vet._ 'Tis luck you have found him at home, for these bitter days keep -him at work. Shall I tell him your name, lady? - -_Soph._ Sophie Remon. - - [_Exit Vetrova_] - -_Soph._ His home! What a place! But I could kneel here. [_Rises and -walks nervously, but becomes suddenly composed at sound of a step. -Enter Adrian, right. He stands reservedly at some distance from her_] - -_Adr._ May I help _you_ this time? But I hope it is not trouble of your -own that brings you. - -_Soph._ No. - -_Adr._ Then I am glad to see you again. We had so little time this -morning, and my surprise was so great when I recognized you---- - -_Soph._ You knew me? - -_Adr._ I should know you anywhere. - -_Soph._ But you will keep my secret? It is important. No one must -suspect that I am Sophie Travinski. - -_Adr._ [_Starts_] Ah!... I did not know---- - -_Soph._ You said you recognized me! - -_Adr._ As Sophie Remon. We had not met for some time. - -_Soph._ O---- - -_Adr._ But have no fear, your highness---- - -_Soph._ [_Approaching and offering her hand_] Not to you. To you I am -still the same. - -_Adr._ [_Not seeing her hand_] Let me thank you again for being my kind -divinity this morning. - -_Soph._ I did nothing. - -_Adr._ Everything. The people are crazed out of their dulness. They -fear new, unknown horrors. I did not know what might happen; but the -assurance of Prince Travinski will renew their endurance. That was what -I needed--his word. - -_Soph._ [_Uneasily_] You can not need it. You who have such power over -the people. 'Tis not because Travinski said it but because you repeat -it that they believe. You are a great man, Adrian Lavrov. - -_Adr._ [_Smiling_] Not great enough to be flattered as great. - -_Soph._ O, I have seen--[_checks herself, changing her words_] men with -men, and I know a king from a subject. - -_Adr._ Then you are wiser than I. But what is your wish, your highness? -You say you have not come for yourself. - -_Soph._ No. For Vera Vetrova. She is in danger. - -_Adr._ Vera? How can such a child be in danger? - -_Soph._ You ask that in Russia? - -_Adr._ She lives at home--she goes nowhere. - -_Soph._ Where was she yesterday? - -_Adr._ I was away all day. - -_Soph._ And Vera was in Yaltowa, at the bazaar to raise funds for the -wounded. - -_Adr._ I remember now. Madam Korego asked permission to take her. - -_Soph._ She is not a wise woman. - -_Adr._ What has happened? - -_Soph._ Petrizoff saw her. You know the man he is. - -_Adr._ Yes--O---- - -_Soph._ She escaped him, but madam was pleased to give all information. - -_Adr._ What can I do? Where will she be safe? - -_Soph._ Not in the Czar's dominions. Petrizoff---- - -_Adr._ I know! Something must be done at once. I must think! - -_Soph._ I have already thought. Will you trust me? - -_Adr._ [_Gazing at her_] Absolutely. - -_Soph._ O, thank you! - -_Adr._ You have a plan? - -_Soph._ A friend of mine leaves for Odessa to-morrow to embark for -America. Vera can travel with her, taking her maid's passport. She will -be safe until to-morrow. The officers' ball, and some other matters, -will keep Petrizoff occupied. I will arrange everything and send for -her in the morning. - -_Adr._ Poor little girl! It will be hard for her, and her grandparents -are very feeble. Dear old Petrovich! It will kill him to lose his -darling. - -_Soph._ [_With concealed anxiety_] You--you are very fond of her? - -_Adr._ Yes. - -_Soph._ [_Bravely_] Perhaps you love her. - -_Adr._ I do. - -_Soph._ O! Then---- - -_Adr._ But it will be hardest for Korelenko. She is betrothed to him. - -_Soph._ Betrothed! Ah, to---- - -_Adr._ Alexander Korelenko. He is headstrong, and does not always -understand. I'm afraid he will want to brave things out here. - -_Soph._ O, he can't! He must understand that he can't. That would mean -the destruction of both. Could he not go with her? - -_Adr._ Perhaps. - -_Soph._ I can arrange that too, if he wishes. My friend was to be -accompanied by a brother. He can go later. Tell Korelenko, and let me -know before to-morrow. - - [_Re-enter Vetrova, right_] - -_Vet._ [_Respectfully_] Will the lady take a cup of tea in the garden -with Catherine and my little granddaughter? - -_Soph._ Gladly. [_To Adrian_] She must know me. - - [_Vetrova holds the door open for her_] - -[_Vera's voice without_] O, you have come! This way to the garden. - - [_Vetrova closes the door and crosses to Adrian, who stands - motionless, apparently not seeing Vetrova_] - -_Vet._ A sweet lady. - -_Adr._ [_To himself_] The princess! - -_Vet._ Eh, yes, she steps like one. But not so pretty as our Vera. - -_Adr._ [_Catching the last word_] Vera! Ah,--Petrovich, I've been -thinking that the children ought not to be parted. - -_Vet._ You are right, Adrian Lavrov. - -_Adr._ And you would be willing to let Vera go with Vasil to Berlin? - -_Vet._ [_Astounded_] Go with him? My Vera? My little girl? Go away? -Leave her old grandfather? I don't understand you, Adrian Lavrov. Let -the boy stay with his sister. - -_Adr._ [_Putting his hand on Vetrova's shoulder_] That must not be, -Petrovich. He ought to go. He _must_ go. He will be a great musician. -God means it. There is no mistake about _him_. [_Leaves Vetrova and -crosses to table where Vasil has been studying. Turns over the papers -meditatively, forgetting Vetrova_] He will never write. He feels too -much to articulate. But music--through that his divinity can flow. -[_Takes up the book_] Bless the lad! He learns by leaps. [_Drops book_] -And I must send him from me--my youth--my dreams. - -_Vet._ But not Vera! Not her! - -_Adr._ If she stays she will marry, Petrovich. And she must leave you -then. - -_Vet._ No, no! Alexander has promised me that she may live with me till -I die. [_Pleadingly_] Only till I die, Adrian Lavrov. - -_Adr._ [_Hiding his emotion_] Well, Petrovich, sufficient unto the day. -Let us be happy till to-morrow. - - [_Re-enter Korelenko, right_] - -_Kore._ Vera is calling you, Petrovich. [_Vetrova hobbles off, right_] -Who is this woman, Adrian? - -_Adr._ You heard the name. - -_Kore._ I heard what she calls herself, but who is she? - -_Adr._ I shall not tell you. - -_Kore._ You needn't. I know enough. - -_Adr._ What do you know? - -_Kore._ What my eyes tell me. She is helping Vera with the dishes--and -such hands! Remember I have warned you against the princess Sophie. - -_Adr._ Forget that slander, Korelenko. - -_Kore._ Slander! I believe that this woman is the friend and accomplice -of the princess. - -_Adr._ [_Smiling_] You do? - -_Kore._ [_Looking at his watch_] I must hurry to Yaltowa. Do me this -favor, Adrian. Don't leave Vera alone with this--Sophie Remon. At the -best she is not what she pretends to be, and for some reason she is -trying to win Vera's friendship. - -_Adr._ Alexander, I must speak to you about Vera. - -_Kore._ [_Going_] Not a second to spare. I am already late, and -Gregorief---- - -_Adr._ Gregorief! He will ruin you, Sasha. You are half a terrorist -now. He will complete the work. - -_Kore._ He is getting at the bottom of a big reactionary plot. I can't -stay to explain, and we don't know enough yet---- - -_Adr._ Keep away from him! - -_Kore._ Can't now. We must root this out. It is a terrible thing. I -shall be back by midnight. - - [_Exit_] - -_Adr._ And Vera must go to-morrow. - - [_Re-enter Vetrova, right_] - -_Adr._ What is wrong, Petrovich? - -_Vet._ The lady is a good lady. Yes. But why does she want to take Vera -from the old man? She has stolen the child's heart. And to-morrow she -is going to send a carriage---- - - [_Distant cries are heard from without_] - -_Adr._ What is that? It sounds like--Petoff yesterday. [_Uliana hurries -in, street door_] What is it, Uliana? - -_Uliana_ [_Crossing herself toward icon as she enters_] O, sir, the -soldiers have come! - -_Adr._ The soldiers? Well, they are only passing through the village. - -_Uli._ They have stopped, sir! And they are Cossacks. - -_Adr._ Do not be alarmed. They-- [_Enter two peasants_] Simeon? Gregori? - -_Simeon._ What do they want--the soldiers? - -_Adr._ Nothing. - -_Gregori._ We are ordered to line up in the street. They are dragging -some of the men out. Does that mean nothing, Shepherd of Lonz? - -_Adr._ I will find out what it means. Stay here. You have done no -wrong. You will not be harmed. [_Enter another peasant_] Ugo? - -_Ugo._ Is it flogging, sir? - -_Adr._ No! It can't be! [_Goes toward door. Cries of "The Shepherd, The -Shepherd," heard without_] - -_Adr._ [_In door_] I am here. - -_A voice without._ We have followed your counsel, Shepherd of Lonz. We -have kept the peace. We have borne the taxes. We have given our sons to -the war. Why are the soldiers here? - -_Adr._ I do not know. But I have the word of Prince Travinski, your -little father, that no outrage will be committed. Come in, friends. - - [_A dozen or more peasants enter._ _Catherine_, _Sophie_, _Vera - and Vasil come on, right_] - -_A peasant._ [_Doggedly_] I gave the Czar my two sons. He gives me the -rod. - -_Another._ My children have no bread. But the taxes are paid. - -_Adr._ You have done your best, and I can not believe that you will be -harmed. - -_A peasant._ It makes no difference how we do. There were good men at -Petoff. - - [_A man staggers in_] - -_Adr._ Kalushkin! - -_Uli._ [_Rushing to him_] My Petrov! Out of your bed! Why did you come? - -_Kalushkin._ We are to be lined up in the street and every tenth man -flogged. - - [_Silence. Then a woman hurries in_] - -_Adr._ Anna! - -_Anna._ [_Kneeling before Adrian_] My lad--they have taken him! His -father died last night. You know how he died. He was starved. He -left the bread for me and the lad. And now they have taken him--my -boy--[_sobbing_] - - [_Adrian lifts her up in silence_] - -_A peasant._ [_Starting up from bench where he has sat as if stunned_] -Flogging! [_Relapses into silence_] - -_Kalush._ We are weak, we are starved, we can not bear the blows. - -_Adr._ Whatever happens we will not forget that the blow we receive -falls on our bodies only; the blow we give falls back upon our souls. -We will be patient even unto death; we will not league with our enemy -against our immortal selves. - - [_Groans, and mutters of remonstrance_] - -What have our neighbors at Petoff gained by striking back? Put out your -hands and feel the ashes of their homes. And they have lost not only -their homes, their children, and themselves, but an eternal triumph, a -triumph for the spirit of peace in the world. - -_A voice at door._ Here they come! - - [_Enter Orloff, with soldiers. Others are seen crowding into the - yard_] - -_Orloff._ We want the men of this house. - -_Adr._ I am one. - -_Orl._ [_Looking him over_] Not you. We know you. We want the peasants. -There are two here. [_Glancing at paper in his hand_] Peter Vetrova, -Vasil Vetrova. - -_Adr._ For what are they wanted? This is a peaceful village. - -_Orl._ And we intend to see that it remains so. - -_Adr._ I can assure you of that. My word is worth something. - -_Orl._ Not in the army, friend. - -_Adr._ The men of Lonz are men of peace. - -_Orl._ A warning not to get bad habits from their neighbors won't hurt -them. Revolt is catching, and Petoff has given us a deal of trouble. - -_Adr._ Does this mean flogging? - -_Orl._ Only every tenth man. The same as for taxes. They get off light, -but we've heard no thanks yet. - -_Adr._ Prince Travinski gave me his word this morning---- - -_Orl._ Travinski! It was this morning that he sent to Petrizoff asking -him to warm up Lonz a little and be quick about it. - -_Adr._ This morning? - -Orf. You see, my friend, your word won't pass in the army. And you -can't blame Travinski for wanting to take things in time here after all -his bother about Petoff. [_Loudly_] Peter Vetrova! - -_Adr._ [_Pushing Vetrova forward_] One blow would kill this old man. -Have you a warrant for murder? - -_Orl._ Let him go. Death will take care of him. [_Laughs_] - - [_Adrian draws Vetrova back_] - -_Orl._ Vasil Vetrova! - - [_Vasil steps out, his face white, his eyes blazing_] - -_A voice._ Adrian Lavrov, do you still say submit? - -_Adr._ [_Blanching_] Submit. - -_Orl._ [_To Vasil_] Come! - -_Adr._ [_Stepping between them_] I will take his lot. Put me in his -place. - -_Orl._ You are not a peasant. - -_Adr._ I live as one, work as one. We are not born to a class; we -choose it. It is the lad who is no peasant. - -_Orl._ What is he then? - -_Adr._ A student. - -_Orl._ Ha! In the University of Lonz! No. He must come with us. - -_Adr._ If I can not stand for him I will stand for myself. I am one of -these people. - -_A voice._ No! - -_Adr._ You live by my counsel. I too must live by it. If I shun the -fate it brings I can not ask you to believe me again. - - [_Sophie moves appealingly forward, then back unnoticed_] - -_Orl._ I can't oblige you with a flogging,--I am sorry to say,--even to -keep you in favor with your converts. Forward! To the line! - -_Soph._ [_Stepping out_] Release the boy! - -_Orl._ Who are _you_? - -_Soph._ [_Taking off her hat_] You know, Count Orloff. - -_Orl._ I salute your highness. - -_Soph._ Release him. - -_Orl._ Again I salute your highness, but my orders are from Petrizoff. - -_Soph._ Mine also. Read this. [_Holds an open locket before him_] - -_Orl._ [_Reads_] "The bearer is in my service. Petrizoff." [_Softly_] -Ah,--the tiara? - -_Adr._ O God! - -_Orl._ We release Vasil Vetrova. [_To princess, in low tone_] When may -I see you? - -_Soph._ To-night, at the ball. - -Orl. [_Bending over her hand_] Till then--silence. [_To the men_] -Forward! - -_A voice._ Must we go, Shepherd of Lonz? We have hands as well as they! -Must we go? - -_Adr._ Go. The millennium is no lie, and the man who suffers wrong for -the eternal right's sake is the man who brings it nearer. Go! And God -give you strength to be true to yourselves--to the future--to Him! - - [_Orloff, soldiers and peasants pass out. Adrian is following when - Sophie comes toward him hesitatingly_] - -_Adr._ I must go with the people. - -_Soph._ I have not deceived you in the way you think. - -_Adr._ [_Passing her_] I must go. - -_Soph._ You will return here? - -_Adr._ This is my home. - -_Soph._ I shall wait for you. - -_Adr._ Farewell! [Exit] - - [_Sophie stands looking after him. Vasil approaches and kneels - before her. She gives him her hand, which he kisses reverently. - Curtain_] - - - SCENE 2. _Same room several hours later. Sophie alone, standing by - the small, high window, left._ - -_Soph._ Almost sunset. [_Turns from window_] And he knows I am -waiting.[_Hears a step in the yard and turns again to window. Adrian -enters, pauses in door, and sees Sophie gazing out. He advances_] - -_Adr._ Your highness? - -_Soph._ [_Turning her head_] You have made no haste. - -_Adr._ I have been with the people. - -_Soph._ [_Looking at him_] You are tired. I, too, went out, but it was -so terrible.... You are very tired. Sit down, please. I want to stand. -[_Takes a few nervous steps and goes back to window_] - -_Adr._ [_Breaking the silence_] Is there anything to say? - -_Soph._ [_Not turning_] The horrible thing you think of me is not true. - -_Adr._ We will not talk about that. - -_Soph._ [_Turns, eagerly_] You have forgiven me? - -_Adr._ Yes. - -_Soph._ As the saints forgive, or for love of me? - -_Adr._ For love of God, not you! - -_Soph._ [_Smiling_] It's the same thing, isn't it? - -_Adr._ [_In embarrassment_] I--what did you mean? - -_Soph._ Come, sit down. [_She takes a seat. He does not move_] Do rest. -You will drop. [_He is silent_] So you do not love me? - -_Adr._ I have not time to amuse your highness---- - -_Soph._ [_Rising_] Nor I to be amused. I know the truth. You do love -me. I saw it in your face when you thought I had been false. I knew -then that I was more than a mere traitor. I was beloved. And in spite -of the suffering--the sadness--the shame--I was glad. - -_Adr._ [_Trembling_] Glad? - -_Soph._ First, let me tell you that I _am_ Petrizoff's spy. [_He drops -to a seat_] He wanted to convict you. You are so important, it seems, -that proof from a high source was necessary. I offered to supply -it. [_Smiles_] Don't you see? I was afraid some one else might be -successful. - -_Adr._ [_Rising_] I see. You are only false to Petrizoff. - -_Soph._ [_Hotly_] I am only his good angel. I have kept him from doing -terrible things by not finding the means---- - -_Adr._ Forgive me. I don't understand yet. Why did you do this--for me? - -_Soph._ You were doing a noble work. - -_Adr._ [_Turns away_] Yes, it was my work you wanted to save. - -_Soph._ Adrian! [_He faces her. She stands in the light from the -window_] You came to the Travinski palace two years ago. It was June, -like this--[_motioning out_]--and sunset--like this. Do you remember? - -_Adr._ I remember. - -_Soph._ You talked to my father. I was in the room. You did not see me, -a mere princess,--but I saw you--heard you. I could not leave--I could -not turn away. Your words were like new dreams to me.... And after -that Petrizoff appealed to my father to furnish evidence against you. -He consented because he feared your power over the peasants. I begged -him to trust the matter to me, and it was then that I made the foolish -wager with Petrizoff. My light manner deceived him, but all the time my -heart was dying within me for fear I should fail. - -_Adr._ [_Falteringly_] Your highness---- - -_Soph._ O, not that! I have called you Adrian for two years. [_He is -silent, and she continues_] The Red Cross work gave me opportunities -to see you. At first perhaps I was only trying to save you--and win -you. But now I know that I am true. I am ready to die for the things -that you would die for, not for your sake but the things' sake. Though -I do not love you less. My love has grown with my spirit. When we met -this morning I dared to put into my eyes all that I felt. You looked -as though you had suddenly met a being out of Heaven, but it was not -Heaven's light upon my face; it was my love for you. - -_Adr._ Sophie ... let it be the light from Heaven, not poor human love. - -_Soph._ [_Drawing back_] Have I--am I--mistaken? - -_Adr._ No. I love you as I have prayed never to love in my life. - -_Soph._ And I love you as I have prayed all my life I might love. - -_Adr._ There are greater things--than this. - -_Soph._ I know. It is because of those greater things that I love you. -[_Touching him gently_] And how can love be anything but a help--a -blessing? - -_Adr._ By taking no second place; by making itself master, as it always -does; as it is doing now. - -[_Moves from her in agitation, which he suppresses, and speaks -steadily_] Years ago I gave myself to mankind. A poor gift, but the -surrender was hard, for I loved myself and believed in giants, if not -gods, who shoulder above the race. But the surrender was complete. And -now shall I take another self in you? One that I could never give up? - -[_She is silent. A woman approaches without, moaning. Adrian goes to -the door_] Anna? - -_Anna._ [_Appearing at door_] My lad is dead, sir. He wanted to see you -again, but there was none to send. Each is busy with his own. - -_Adr._ Dear Nikola! God's rest is his. - -_Anna._ Yes. Heaven is a good place for our children. 'Tis better with -me than Uliana. Her Petrov may live, but he will never walk. Can you -come to-night and sit a bit by the lad? I'm almost thinkin' he would -know it, sir. - -_Adr._ I will come, Anna. - -_Anna._ Just a bit. I wouldn't keep you from the living. God bless you, -sir! [_Goes. Adrian remains in door until her footsteps die away, then -returns to Sophie_] - -_Adr._ You know what my work means. The daily offering up of the body -to prison and death. That does not matter now, but if you were in -danger, as my wife would always be, do you doubt that I would try to -save you at the risk of all for which I have lived? And I have lived -for it because it was the one righteous way for me. - -_Soph._ I should never come between you and your work. - -_Adr._ I gave up ambition--I would rather move with the multitude -one step nearer the light than with my two hands catch at the sun. I -gave up art--what right had I to retreat into the beautiful while my -brothers lay blind without? Burnish my spirit to reflect gleams beyond -the stars, while children were without bread? But love? O, I thought -God would spare me this! - -_Soph._ Adrian--you don't understand--I should not be in your way--your -work would be mine---- - -_Adr._ O, _you_ don't understand--you can't, for you are a woman, whose -natural breath is the incense of sacrifice. But in me there is no -angel. If you were mine, I would risk everything to hold you--one bit -of rosy flesh that I might kiss! - -_Soph._ [_Softly_] I know you better than that. - -_Adr._ Even now I am trembling for you, thinking more of your safety -than of the poor people who are waiting for me as their only hope. You -must leave here at once--cease trying to protect me--what you have done -for Vasil may arouse the suspicions of Petrizoff---- - -_Soph._ He will not hear of it. I spoke to Orloff. [_Answering his -look_] I can take care of myself, Adrian. [_Taking his hand_] It is you -who need---- - -_Adr._ [_Withdrawing his hand_] Don't! Who lets in love, lets in his -master, and I must be free--free! You will despise me, but that perhaps -is the better way. O, I long to deceive myself, to say that it would -make no difference, that I could see the chains fastened about you, -see you dragged away, and go on unfalteringly with no dimming of the -vision. But it would be a lie. - -_Soph._ The truth. You could do it. - -_Adr._ No. And you would not want me to do it Forgive me. You do not -believe it now, but you would want me to love you first. - -_Soph._ Yes. But I should not let you. You say yourself that sacrifice -is woman's breath. I could give up even my desire to be first. But why -make a question of the impossible? No woman could be first with you, -Adrian. - -_Adr._ O you don't _know_! - - [_A man comes to door, rear, makes sign of the cross toward icon, - and stands waiting_] - -_Adr._ What now, Nico? - -_Nico._ Petrov Kalushkin is worse, sir. Can you come before night? - -_Adr._ In ten minutes. - -_Nico._ The Holy Mother bless you, sir! [_Exit_] - -_Soph._ [_As Adrian turns silently to her_] I have only this to say, -Adrian. I understand, and I am ready. - -_Adr._ And I am not. I know the man in me too well. I can not trust -him. While you are safe, and I am free, go. - -_Soph._ [_Paling and gathering up her pride_] I am sorry that I waited -for the command. [_Moving to right_] I will speak to the Vetrovas, and -obey you. - -_Adr._ [_As she opens door_] Sophie! - -_Soph._ [_Turning_] Princess Travinski! [_Exit_] - -_Adr._ Ah, pride will not help _her_. I don't know what has -happened--what I have done---- - - [_Enter Vasil, centre right, carrying his violin_] - -_Vasil._ O, has she gone? - -_Adr._ No, but she is going. - -_Vasil._ She will come back? - -_Adr._ Why should she? Isn't it enough that she has given herself to us -for one day? - -_Vasil._ She has given herself to me forever--by saving my life. She -may forget you and the others, but she can't forget me, Adrian. O, I -have been so happy to-day! - -_Adr._ To-day? - -_Vasil._ I have finished "The Joy of the Stars." - -_Adr._ [_Exultantly_] Your sonata finished? To-day! - -_Vasil._ You have been right, Adrian. This life shall not touch -me. I could never understand it. When I think of it I grow -blind--blind--blind! I shall sing--just sing till my head goes off, -nor ask why. The people are good, honest, work from light to dark, -yet they starve, bleed, die. And I, who pray to harm nothing, I--this -morning--[_stops_, _shudders_, _crosses to table_, _rear_, _lays his -violin upon it_, _and sits despairingly_. _Adrian follows and puts his -arm over the boy's shoulders_] - -_Adr._ That is over, lad. You will soon be in Berlin with your music, -and you will forget. Think of it as a dream that will not come again. - -_Vasil._ But it will be coming to others. Always somewhere there are -people suffering, in prison, mad, tortured---- - -_Adr._ You can not help them now, Vasil. And to let sympathy destroy -your power for work will rob them of the joy you may bring them -hereafter. Forget them for awhile that you may come again with help, -not tears, that ease your heart rather than theirs. - -_Vasil._ No, I shall not forget--not for a minute--but I shall work -and be blithe of soul, for what has the soul to do with the tearing -of the heart, unless it be to show its free wings above it? If I -were imprisoned, racked, dying, I should want the music to go on, I -should try even then to help it, to turn my cries into a song. That -is why I can sing while they suffer--because happiness is the right -thing--because I am ready to suffer while _they_ sing,--not because I -forget. O, you can trust me, Adrian! And [_with sudden appeal_] I want -to be at the meeting to-night. - -_Adr._ [_Hastily_] No. - -_Vasil._ Yes, Adrian. - -_Adr._ You are too young. - -_Vasil._ As old as the morning star. Do not be afraid. Whatever touches -me, nothing shall touch my song. - -_Adr._ Your song can be saved only with your life, Vasil, and this -meeting is dangerous. In a few days you are going away. We will not -uselessly waste your heart to-night. - -_Vasil._ I do not want to go just now, Adrian. Let me stay here a -little longer. There is so much you can teach me yet. - -_Adr._ [_Smiling_] You make better music than I can dream. No, it is -time to go. - -_Vasil._ But I _want_ to stay! - -_Adr._ [_Quickly_] You must have no wishes. [_More gently_] Aside from -your art. - -_Vasil._ Art can breathe only through life. I must live! Art is for -men and women. If I do not understand them, how can they understand my -music? I shall not play to sheep, nor rocks, nor stars, nor God, nor -angels! - -_Adr._ You know what I mean, Vasil. In heart the true artist is all -man, all woman; but in genius, as impersonal as the universe. - -_Vasil._ I know it! Have I not proved it to-day? Petrov Kalushkin is -lying over yonder bleeding from a hundred lashes, but I--[_taking up -his violin_]--listen to "The Joy of the Stars!" - -_Adr._ [_Laying his hand on the bow_] Stop--no--I mean--[_silence. -Vasil puts down the violin and looks at Adrian_] I am not a genius, -Vasil. You will be what I can not. - -_Vasil._ And you will trust me? I may be at the meeting? - -_Adr._ [_Taking his hat_] Yes. This once. And then Berlin. - -_Vasil._ You are worn out, Adrian. Must you go again? - -_Adr._ Again and again. You may say good-by to the princess for me. - -_Vasil._ Wait! She is coming! [_Exit Adrian, street door, as Sophie and -Vera enter left. Sophie has on hat and ulster_] - -_Vera._ You kissed me this morning, and you were a princess. - -_Soph._ And I will kiss you again, dear Vera. You will be ready in the -morning for the visit you have promised me? - -_Vera._ O, yes! - - [_They cross toward Vasil_] - -_Vera._ I shall love you always for saving my Vasil. It would have -killed him. Adrian has guarded him always. [_Lifting Vasil's hand_] -See---- - -_Vasil._ [_Offended, drawing away his hand_] I am not a child, Vera. - -_Vera._ [_Hurt_] O, Vasil! - -_Vasil._ [_Embracing her_] There! The princess will think we are _two_ -babies. - -_Vera._ [_With dignity_] I am betrothed. - -_Soph._ Happy Alexander! - -_Vasil._ [_Jealously, as she caresses Vera_] Princess, may I play to -you before you go? - -_Soph._ O, will you? - -_Vera._ Sit here, princess. - - [_Sophie takes the large chair, Vera sits on stool beside her. - Vasil gets his violin from table, comes over and stands ready to - play. Drops the bow in desperation_] - -_Soph._ What is the matter? - -_Vasil._ How can I play to that ugly coat and hat? - -_Soph._ [_Laughing and removing hat and ulster_] Is that all? - -_Vasil._ Now you are my princess! - -_Soph._ Yours? - -_Vasil._ Yes. You have sold yourself to me. - -_Soph._ I have? - -_Vasil._ By doing me a favor--the most binding of bargains. As long -as you live your thoughts will come back to me. Could you forget me, -princess? - -_Soph._ No, Vasil. But you must not care so much. - -_Vasil._ Don't you like me to care? - -_Soph._ Yes, but---- - -_Vasil._ Then I will. O, it is glorious to dream and know why! To sing -and know to whom the song belongs! - -_Soph._ My boy, make your country your goddess, not a woman. - -_Vasil._ My country! What is it? The thing that raised a knout above my -shoulders? - -_Soph._ My dear Vasil---- - -_Vasil._ Adrian is right. I must find that which is not country, nor -home, nor people,--the eternal in the hour. - -_Soph._ But Adrian cares for country, home, people. - -_Vasil._ No. He cares only for the soul. These other things are shadow -boundaries in the mind that vanish when the soul looks on them. Here, -I'll show you how little he cares. [_Unfastens a chain from his neck -and draws a medal from his bosom_] He gave me this, because I wanted it -to play with. I was only a boy then. And he forgot all about it. Have -you noticed how Adrian forgets? I would not give it back because he was -going to bury it. [_Holding out medal_] See? [_Drawing it back_] You -love him, don't you? - -_Soph._ Why--yes--you strange boy. - -_Vasil._ Then you may see it. - -_Soph._ [_Turning away_] No. - -_Vasil._ But I want you to look. The name is on it--his -grandfather's--great-grandfather's--O, I don't know how far back. But I -am sure he was a great prince. - -_Soph._ [_Looking at medal_] Donskoi! - -_Vasil._ Wasn't he a great prince? - -_Soph._ Yes. But a greater man. - -_Vasil._ And Adrian could be a prince too. [_Re-fastening chain_] But -he doesn't care at all. When I asked him if this was a piece of the -sun, he said "No, the last of a great shadow." I know what he meant -now. Why are you sad, princess? - -_Soph._ Because I have been unkind to Adrian. - -_Vasil._ Don't mind. He will forgive you. He forgives everybody -everything. - -_Soph._ But it isn't pleasant to be forgiven that way, as if we were -anybody else. I want to be forgiven because I am myself. - -_Vasil._ You can't with Adrian. His star is the soul, and in its light -we are all alike. - -_Soph._ And what is your star, Vasil? - -_Vasil._ Mine? It is the same, only I call it love instead of soul. The -great love--that makes one heart beat in another's body--that makes me -faint in Russia when a beggar starves in India--that fades your cheek -with the girl's at an English loom--that turns the comfortable American -out of doors with the driven Jew--that gives one color to every flag, -and makes the might of the strongest nation the right of the Kaffir -babe. This is my star, as Adrian's, only I see it warm and golden -instead of cold and white. - -_Soph._ [_Softly_] It may not be always cold and white to him. - -_Vasil._ [_Thoughtfully_] Perhaps not, or he would not know so well---- - -_Soph._ How others see? - -_Vasil._ [_Nods, and takes up his violin_] Shall I play now, princess? - -_Soph._ Yes, but do not think of me,--think of---- - -_Vasil._ I know. The great love. - - [_He plays, standing by window. Vera sits leaning against Sophie's - lap. The princess gazes toward the door, and her look meets - Adrian's as he enters. He crosses and stands by her chair. She - reaches up and gives him her hand, which he clasps. Curtain_] - - - - -ACT II - - SCENE 1. _Same room at night. A score or more of peasant men and - women, and half as many revolutionists assembled. They are singing - as the curtain rises._ - - - Hark, brothers, hark! - [_Knock, knock, knock!_] - What do you here, - Knocking in the cold? - Red are your hands, - Frozen are your feet, - [_Knock, knock, knock!_] - What do you here, - Knocking in the cold? - - A prison we build, - [_Knock, knock, knock!_] - Here the Czar knelt, - Blessing the stones; - But when it is finished - The gates will unfold - And swallow the builders. - [_Knock, knock, knock!_] - They who labor not, - The rich and the idle, - Will imprison the workers - Who make the babe's bread. - Despair drives our hammer, - The hearts of the toilers - Lie under the blow; - We will throw down the hammer, - We will labor no more. - - No, brothers, no! - Build ye the prison, - Be willing of heart; - And when it is finished, - Your heavy oppressors - Through the dark gates - In terror shall pass. - Weeping to dungeon - The rich and the idle - Then shall descend, - While above ye shall sing, - Swinging your hammers - In the broad light. - Knock, brothers, knock! - [_Knock, knock, knock!_] - - [_At close of song Adrian rises. Silence_] - -_An old man._ Speak, Adrian Lavrov. - -_Adr._ Brothers, we have met to talk matters over. - -_Manlief._ We have talked for seventy-five years! - -_A student._ The lash spoke the last word to-day. - -_Old man._ Speak, Adrian Lavrov. - -_Adr._ Friends, the truth that was clear to you before the enemy's blow -fell to-day is no less true now that the blow has fallen. - -_Manl._ Not on your back, Lavrov. - -_A peasant._ The lash of the Czar goes deeper than the words of the -preacher. - -_Another._ We have obeyed you until now, shepherd of Lonz. - -_Adr._ [_Gently_] And you will obey me again. - -_Manl._ You will obey the voice of your own manhood! - -_Adr._ You will remember that you bear the leaven of the race, that you -carry in your blood the universal peace. - -_Manl._ Every beat of your hearts is telling you now to be men! - -_Adr._ Submission is the only death-answer to violence. The world for -very shame must cease to crucify Christ! - -_Gregorief._ [_Leaping up_] Move your Sunday-school to the dungeons of -Schlusselburg! Yes, I have been there. I was twenty years under the -storm-waves of Lake Ladoga, and if your words could have reached me -through the damp walls they would have received their true answer--a -madman's answer. For torture does not give men the serenity of gods -or preachers, Lavrov. Twenty years of the silence that welcomes the -silence of death--twenty years of the loneliness that makes men pray -for the joy of weeping together--twenty years with starving eyes -on naked walls, while above me the great, wide seasons were going -by--twenty years of void and gloom with the windy waters whipping -my prison island, and all the more maddening because I could not -hear them, because they too were a silent guard. I was like this boy -[_touching Vasil, who is leaning toward him listening intently_] when -they put me in, and I came out--as you see. [_Laughs ironically_] But -I am fortunate. I left others behind me to whom those dark doors will -never open, while I have the privilege of--_dying_ above ground. - -_Adr._ It makes no difference which side of a prison door the -conquering spirit is on, Gregorief. - -_Greg._ Ha! I wasn't a spirit then. They put me in while I was still -in this life, where the flesh throbs and the blood sings. I was like -this boy, I say, and I came out two months ago a broken consumptive -wretch. You see me, Lavrov. Am I fit to leaven the race? _I_ am -what oppression makes, not the meek angels you dream about. Into my -children will go the bitterness of the wronged to come out in hate, the -feebleness of the broken man to come out in cunning, the stinging for -revenge to come out in murder---- - -_Adr._ But if you had triumphed--the immortal you--what a soul you -could bequeath to your country! O, one such could almost save her! - -_Greg._ One! She has them by the thousand, everywhere thwarting -us--their holy tears putting out our living fire as fast as we kindle -it! [_Laying his hands on Vasil_] Ah, here is a spirit worth all your -saints, Lavrov. Son, take up my torch as I drop it--my torch and sword, -lad---- - -_Vasil._ [_Eager and trembling_] I am a singer, not a fighter. - -_Greg._ Songs are good weapons. Write them for us, boy. Give us one -to-night before the fire dies there. [_Knocking Vasil's breast_] A -war-song---- - -_Vasil._ [_Springing up_] I will! A song from Schlusselburg! - - [_Rushes out, street door_] - -_Adr._ Are you the devil, Gregorief? - -_Greg._ [_Laughing_] If I am I must have my legions. Did you intend -my recruit for a saint, Lavrov? [_Fervidly_] I have sworn to level my -prison before I die---- - -_Adr._ You have laid another stone upon it. There is but one power -before which the prisons will forever fall--the power of the soul. -Strike them down, and the blows that lay them low will raise them again -for your children. - -_Greg._ Fanaticism! You can not fit the laws of Heaven to the energies -of earth, Lavrov! I tell you---- - -_Galovkine._ Leave this. We've no time. The burning of Yaltowa is fixed -for to-morrow night. - -_Adr._ [_Dazed_] The burning of Yaltowa! - -_Greg._ Yes, Lavrov. Petrizoff intends to burn the town in our name. -We are moving too fast toward the favor of the world, and must be -repainted as red ogres. - -_Adr._ Burn the town! - -_Manl._ [_Bitterly_] That is not so bad a matter. What are a few -thousand homes more or less in a country where no house is safe? The -terrible part is the blow to the cause. Our great parties were never -more united, never so ready for a telling stroke, and this horrible -crime laid at the door of the revolutionists---- - -_Adr._ It must be prevented! We must act at once---- - -_Manl._ And get clapped into prison a little sooner. There is not time -now for general action. - -_Adr._ Burnt? The horror of it! - -_Greg._ [_Looking at Adrian_] It _can_ be prevented. - -_Adr._ How? - -_Greg._ Petrizoff is the whole plot, and he is not immortal. - -_Adr._ [_After a cold silence_] You are a fool to say this to me, -Gregorief. - -_Greg._ Reserve your judgment till you know yourself better. Your heart -is with us, Lavrov, in spite of your preaching. - -_Adr._ Do you suppose I would quietly permit this murder? - -_Greg._ Will you quietly permit Petrizoff's ten-thousand murders? - -_Adr._ There is a difference. - -_Greg._ Yes. We put one assassin to righteous death, he murders -thousands of honest men. - -_Adr._ [_In same tone as before_] There is a difference. - -_Greg._ _Your_ difference! - -_Adr._ God's difference. The wicked may do their worst and the world -still hope, but if the children of light borrow their weapons---- - -_Greg._ There is but one way to fight the devil! - -_Adr._ If you use his own fire you must live in hell to do it. - -_Greg._ And we don't live in hell now, I suppose! - -_Adr._ Not an everlasting one. You have the selfishness of the living -generation, Gregorief, that consumes as its candle the sun of the -unborn. - -_Greg._ Bah! Each generation must fight for its own breath. - -_Adr._ Who conquers with a club will rule with a club. It is only -through the enduring righteousness now taking deepest root in the -night of oppression that true liberation will come, pushing upward to -flower in the conscience of every man. When we are free from within, -government will of itself fall away---- - -_Greg._ Anarchy! - -_Adr._ Yes. Anarchy of the soul, not of the blood. The anarchy that -Christ saw when he said the meek shall inherit the earth. This is the -vision before me, the vision that I held before the bleeding bodies in -Lonz to-day---- - -_Greg._ To the devil with your visions! Man will always be a worm while -he crawls! It is those who have remembered their stature that have done -most for the race. And I--from under their feet--with Death's hand upon -me--I will remember mine! - - [_Galovkine, who is watching at the door, steps forward, - lifting his hand in signal. Instantly the scene becomes one of - merrymaking. A man who sits on shelf above stove begins fiddling, - and a peasant dances a clog in the middle of the floor. Orloff - enters, followed by two or three guards. Vetrova rises to meet - them_] - -_Vet._ You are welcome. - -_Orl._ A jolly ending to the day, good people. - -_Vet._ We've reason to be merry, sir, as you know, who spared my lad -this morning. - -_Cath._ And you too, Petrovich. - -_Vet._ Eh, but I don't count, mother. - -_Orl._ 'Tis sporting time with us too. We are on our way to the -officers' ball at Yaltowa. A little gayety after the hard work at -Petoff. Glad to find you are not making more trouble for us. - -_Vet._ We've had our lesson, sir. - -_Orl._ [_Suspiciously_] And this happy meeting is to encourage -yourselves in good intentions? - -_Vet._ Sir, we are true men. - - [_Vasil suddenly appears in door, rear, waving a paper_] - -_Vasil._ I have it: The song is ready! - -_Adr._ [_Looking meaningly at Vasil_] Don't be so sure of your first -effort, my boy. Better let it get cold. - -_Orl._ No, we'll hear it. That paper looks interesting. - -_Vasil._ Pardon me. [_Folds paper and puts it into his pocket_] - -_Orl._ I insist upon hearing it. - -_Vasil._ [_Taking paper out reluctantly_] 'Tis merely a song, sir, -and will hardly bear reading. I will sing it for you. [_Unfolds paper -slowly_] A Welcome to Summer, friends. 'Tis an old chorus, and you can -help me with it. [_Sings_] - - Come out, come out with me - To meet the summer maid! - A queen, a queen is she, - Whose love is as the sea - That would all lands caress, - Whose loves are many as the sands, - And each a sovereign is, - For whom her arms enring - Is royal by her kiss, - Forevermore a king, a king, a king! - - Come, dance, dance, dance, and welcome the summer maid! - Who has looked into her eyes is nevermore afraid! - We will gather our hearts together, we will mingle our - feet on the grass, - We will hold her with kisses, nor ever, nor ever let her pass! - - [_The peasants join in chorus_] - - Her free step is the dawn - No darkness can waylay, - Her laugh is the wild waterfall - By winter never chained, - Her hair the winds unreined, - Her eyes unbridled sun, - And all the waves are in her call - That heard is never still, - Her breath the clouds that hie - Free as they list or will, - And in her bosom find a greater sky! - - Ye mothers, come, forsake - Dead fire and frozen hearth; - The bones ye call your babes, awake, - For in her lap she bears - Sweet grain and golden ears - That warming in their veins shall make - The ruddy might of men; - Your daughters that now lie - Blanched, broken, still, shall then - Lift up rose faces and forget to die. - - Old Winter in his snows - Is covered, covered deep, - For all above him lie his slain, - And not until his breath - Has warmed them out of death - May he arise from his cold sleep. - Good-by, good-by, good-by, - Old Winter dead and white, - No more meet you and I, - A last and long, a long and last good-night! - - [_As the chorus is sung the last time, Vasil dances out among the - peasants, who join hands with him and all move in a ring, singing_] - -_Orl._ I congratulate you. And now will you favor me with the copy? - -_Vasil._ [_Seeming to hesitate_] 'Tis hardly worthy---- - -_Orl._ [_Taking it_] Leave that to me. [_Glances disappointedly -at song, repeating the first line_] Humph! Yes ... [_Puts it into -his pocket_] So you are all true men enjoying yourselves? I've no -objection. On the contrary. I'm in the humor to join you if my lady -Bright-eyes [_looking at Vera_] will honor me. - - [_Vera rises, curtsies, and couples spring up, forming a dance, - Orloff and Vera leading_] - -_Orl._ [_At close of the dance_] Thank you, Bright-eyes. I shall find -no fairer partner at the ball, whither I must be going. And here, -young man. I will leave you your song. It may be your _only_ copy. -[_Brings out several papers from his pocket and looks them over_] Here -is the song, but ... [_Assumes sudden sternness_] A serious matter. -I have lost an important paper since I came into this room. [_Looks -searchingly at their faces_] An important paper on official business. -[_All are silent, betraying no emotion. He turns his gaze to Vera, -who is sitting by her grandfather_] Ah, my little lady, perhaps your -fingers were busy in the dance. Come forward, please. - - [_Vera steps out, bewildered_] - -_Vera._ I did not touch it. - -_Orl._ Of course not. Now will you shake your scarf, please? Yes, I -will do it for you. [_Shakes her scarf and a paper drops to the floor. -Orloff picks it up_] Ah, found! Good, but rather a sad affair for you, -little one. Even fingers so dainty as yours must not meddle with the -Czar's papers. - -_Vera._ I did not touch them! - -_Orl._ Of course not. But you must come with me. [_Mutterings from the -men_] I hear you, friends. If any of you want to come along just make -it known. Our prisons are well stuffed, but we can manage to pack away -all present. - -_Adr._ [_After a second of silence_] The child is innocent. - -_Orl._ O, you want to go, do you? But you happen to be the one we don't -want--yet. Anybody else? - -_Vera._ [_Sobbing_] I did not touch it. - -_Orl._ You may tell that to Petrizoff. He is always kind to beauty. - -_Vera._ [_In terror_] Am I going to him? - -_Orl._ He will not be far away, I imagine. - -_Adr._ You can not take this child. The paper was not stolen. - -_Orl._ You saw it drop from her scarf. - -_Adr._ Where you put it. - -_Orl._ [_In a rage_] Your mouth will soon be shut! If I could have had -my way this morning your hide wouldn't hold shucks to-night! - - [_Noise of a carriage at door. Sophie enters in ball dress. She - draws back in astonishment at sight of Orloff_] - -_Soph._ [_Faintly_] You here? - -_Orl._ And you? - -_Soph._ [_Composed_] May I speak to you, Count Orloff? - -_Orl._ At your service, your highness. - - [_They draw aside, left, front. The peasants talk in low tones. - Guards stand by Vera_] - -_Soph._ Of course I know why you are here, but I had to simulate -surprise. - -_Orl._ You were very successful. - -_Soph._ Since the exposure of this morning the people are ready to -suspect me, and I must retain their confidence or my usefulness is at -an end. - -_Orl._ Quite. - -_Soph._ They heard to-day of the girl's danger, and were planning -her escape, so I, not knowing whether you would arrive in time, -stopped--to---- - -_Orl._ Yes? - -_Soph._ Quiet their fears and assure them of her safety. Are there any -prisoners besides the girl? - -_Orl._ No, but I would give something to take this insolent Shepherd. -I've only a few hours to wait though. - -_Soph._ A few hours? - -_Orl._ Yes--ah, you _don't_ know everything then! - -_Soph._ Dear man, I know everything but one,--that is, how much _you_ -know. If you will go to the ball in my carriage we may find out how far -we can trust each other. - -_Orl._ Angel! - -_Soph._ Don't! The people--you must pretend to oppose me. They think I -am interceding for the girl. - -_Orl._ [_As if suddenly recalling something_] Why did you save the boy -this morning? - -_Soph._ I will explain that too--in the carriage. We must go now. I -first, so they will not know we leave together. - -_Orl._ [_Crestfallen_] I promised Petrizoff not to leave the girl till -I had her safe in prison. There have been so many escapes---- - -_Soph._ [_With a glance at Vera_] She _is_ pretty. Good-evening then. - -_Orl._ Wait--I will go with you! - -_Soph._ [_Melting_] Will you? Then you sha'n't. You shall take no risks -for me. - -_Orl._ Risk! I would risk anything. Ah, you can't deprive me now. - -_Soph._ Can you trust the guards? - -_Orl._ I _will_ trust them! - -_Soph._ Very well. I will wait for you. [_Going, stops before Adrian_] -I have not been able to obtain her release, but I am sure there is -hope. At least I have touched Colonel Orloff's heart. Have I not, Count? - -_Orl._ You have indeed! - -_Soph._ [_Looking steadily at Adrian_] And you will hear news of great -importance before morning. [_To Orloff_] Will he not? - -_Orl._ Without doubt, your highness. - -_Soph._ [_Going, again turns to Adrian_] The Count will give you his -word that _I am to be trusted_. - -_Orl._ To be sure, your highness. - -_Soph._ Good-night. [_Exit_] - -_Orl._ [_After following Sophie's departure with a fatuous look_] Come, -lady-bird, we must be moving. [_Starts out, the guards following with -Vera. Vetrova, who has seemed quite stunned, suddenly rushes after them -and beats guards with his crutch_] - -_Orl._ [_Seizing him by the collar and throwing him to the floor_] You -old fool! We don't want to bother with you! - - [_Exeunt Orloff, guards and Vera. Vetrova, lying on floor, lifts - his fist and curses_] - -_Adr._ [_Bending over him_] Petrusha! - -_Vet._ Let me be, Adrian Lavrov! I have held my peace all my life to -die cursing at last! I was dumb when they broke my bones under the -rod. I was dumb when my son died under the lash. But Vera, my little -girl--dragged to that--O God, send thy fires upon him! Curse him--curse -him--curse----[_Dies. The peasants cross themselves. Some kneel before -the icon, praying. Catherine gazes at Vetrova in hopeless terror. -Galovkine kneels and examines the body_] - -_Galovkine._ Dead. - -_Cath._ Dead--and a curse on his lips. My Petrusha--dead--and a curse -on his lips. - - [_Two men pick up the body and bear it off right centre, Adrian - opening the door. Catherine follows with several women. The other - peasants go off silently, street door, leaving only Adrian, Vasil - and the revolutionists_] - -_Greg._ As I was saying when--the Czar interrupted us--Petrizoff must -die. And you will help us, Lavrov. Yes--you must! You say yourself that -our best hope lies in sympathy and sentiment---- - -_Adr._ Which the bomb utterly destroys. - -_Greg._ Not when the Shepherd throws it. Wait! I do not mean that -literally, for this [_raising his hand_] is the consecrated hand. But -your name as our leader would sanctify the deed. - -_Adr._ Your leader? - -_Greg._ Yes. Not only for this, but for our army. Your name is a divine -word in every peasant home in Russia. It is cheered by every body of -workmen gathered together to-night, and in the army who would not -surrender the colors of Romanov to the hero line of Donskoi? - -_Adr._ [_Starting_] Gregorief---- - -_Greg._ Wait! They are all ready now. The peasantry, inspired -by the teaching of our martyrs for the last thirty years,--the -nobility with awakened conscience,--the workmen, one great body with -suspended arms,--the army of the Czar ready to become the army of the -people,--all await their leader--you! [_A pause_] Russia is looking but -one way--to freedom. To-day you may lead us to victory almost without -blood. Let Petrizoff commit this crime in the name of liberty, and -to-morrow we shall be like the scattered limbs of a dissevered body. -You will not let this be, Lavrov. You will---- - -_Adr._ No! Let civilization wait another century rather than deliver -her flag to the hands of murderers! - -_Greg._ And where is it now if not in the hands of murderers? - -_Adr._ It is not in _their_ hands, Gregorief, but in ours, that are -yet clean. Do this thing, and it is you, not Petrizoff, who give the -greatest blow to freedom. The world is just beginning to understand -us---- - -_Greg._ Yes! Where is that understanding growing strongest? In America. -And how does the autocracy propose to meet this new influence? By a -secret commercial treaty with the United States. Give any government -a pocket interest in the security of another and to the winds with -sympathy! Petrizoff has his agents there now, and the burning of -Yaltowa is only a part of his scheme to chill the hearts that are -warming to us. But he shall not live to do it. You will not let him -live, Lavrov. My God, don't you see that your opportunity has come? - -_Adr._ Yes. My opportunity to point once more to where the sun shall -rise. - -_Greg._ The sun never rises on the blind. You would throw us back into -night for another thousand years! - -_Adr._ What are a thousand years to the soul of man on the right path -to the right thing? - -_Galovkine._ [_Plucking at Gregorief_] Come away. We lose time here. - -_Greg._ Not until I tell this fool where he stands! You imagine, -Lavrov, that you are a friend to freedom, but a greater enemy does -not tread Russian soil. Why does the government leave you at work? -Because of your power to subdue the spirit in men. It is you--such as -you--who forget our shackles and fill the prisons. But thank the Powers -that keep the race alive, there are still some of us who believe in -manhood--in the virtues of the heart as well as the soul--in courage, -honor, justice! [_To the others_] Come up to Breshloff's. We will -finish there. - - [_Enter Korelenko hurriedly_] - -_Greg._ [_Grasping his hand_] Korelenko! The word? What is it? - -_Kore._ What you wished. We needed only the consent of the Social -Democrats to Petrizoff's death---- - -_Greg._ Yes, yes! - -_Kore._ And I have brought their sanction---- - -_Greg._ [_Almost sobbing_] Thank God! - -_Kore._ If it is done under the leadership of the Shepherd of Lonz. - - [_Adrian staggers back against loom_] - -_Greg._ [_Clutching Korelenko_] Take back that infernal proviso! - -_Kore._ I thought you wished it. - -_Greg._ I did, when I believed the man there was human. - -_Kore._ He is. The most human of us all. You don't know him. Adrian, -you see that all depends upon you---- - -_Adr._ [_Waving him away_] Begone--all of you! - -_Manl._ Come! God gave us good right arms. We need not wait for -Lavrov's. - -_Kore._ But can we do without the Social Democrats? - -_Greg._ Yes! We have the others. Come to Breshloff's! - - [_All go except Korelenko, who lingers in the door. Adrian sits - exhausted on bench before loom_] - -_Adr._ Sasha? - -_Kore._ [_Turning back quickly_] Well? - -_Adr._ You have chosen? - -_Kore._ Between my friends and my enemies? Yes. - -_Adr._ Between the body and the soul. - -_Kore._ Soul! There is none in Russia. When we get possession of our -bodies we may be permitted to cultivate souls! - -_Adr._ If you would wait a little, Sasha. Reforms are coming. The Czar -will grant a constitution---- - -_Kore._ He will grant what we take, no more. And what do we gain if he -gives us a constitution and keeps his army? If he gives us schools -and exiles the teachers? If he gives us freedom and denies it to the -men who have won it--our brothers in the dungeons? No, we want _our_ -constitution, not the Czar's--a constitution with law and justice -behind it, not an army. - -_Adr._ Is it time? There is so much ignorance yet---- - -_Kore._ Ignorance! Where is it greater than among our masters? We -suffer as much from their stupidity as their oppression. I hate the -ass's head more than the tyrant's! - -_Adr._ But the poor, illiterate peasants. Are they ready---- - -_Kore._ Viatka and Perm answer that! There, where they have been let -alone, they have established the best governed provinces in Russia. But -here, where ignorance is _protected_--do you know what will happen if -Yaltowa is burnt? The peasants of Karitz will be led into the town to -pillage and slaughter in the name of Christ. - -_Adr._ [_In horror_] Karitz! My poor people! I must go there at once. - -_Kore._ There? It is only because you are here that Lonz will not be -led into it. [_Ironically_] Since you can't be everywhere, hadn't we -better devise some other means for the protection of the people? - -_Adr._ O, it is horrible! - -_Kore._ More horrible than you dream. A good man can not know how bad -the world is, for he can never get away from himself. - - [_Re-enter Manlief_] - -_Manl._ Come, Korelenko. We shall be too late. - -_Adr._ He is not going. - -_Manl._ No? I'll stiffen his heart. You don't know, do you, that your -little Vera has been taken to Petrizoff? - -_Kore._ [_Stares in amazement, and clutches Adrian_] Is this a lie? - -_Adr._ She has been arrested. - -_Kore._ You let her be taken? - -_Adr._ I had no choice. - -_Kore._ There is always a choice. You could have killed her. [_Breaks -down_] - -_Manl._ [_Touching him_] Come. - -_Kore._ Yes! Go on! I'll come! - -_Manl._ At Breshloff's. [_Exit_] - -_Kore._ [_Savagely, starting up_] You would save his life knowing that! - -_Adr._ What has Vera's misfortune--yours--mine--to do with an eternal -principle? - -_Kore._ Damn your principle! It will put us all into hell! - -_Adr._ The princess may be able to do something for her. She---- - -_Kore._ You still believe in that spy? [_Adrian is silent. Korelenko -looks at him_] Forgive me. You love her. No! If you knew what love is -you would help me! - -_Adr._ [_Going to him as he reaches the door_] Wait. I do know. I love -her even as you love Vera, and I swear to you that if she stood in -Vera's place my answer would be the same. - -_Kore._ [_Abstractedly_] You love her. [_Starts suddenly away_] - -_Adr._ You will stay now, Sasha? - -_Kore._ Now? No. There is something to do now. - - [_Exit_] - -_Adr._ Light, light, O my God! - -[_Door opens, right centre, and a woman appears_] - -_Woman._ Can you come to Catherine Vetrova now, sir? - - [_Adrian bows his head and follows her out. Vasil, who has been - sitting behind the little table rear, at times listening eagerly, - at times overcome, rises and moves slowly forward, carrying his - violin_] - -_Vasil._ [_Repeats softly_] "As impersonal as the universe." - -[_Strikes two or three notes on the violin and stops, terrified. Dashes -the instrument down and throws himself to the floor, sobbing_] O, Vera! -Vera! Vera! - - [_Curtain_] - - - SCENE 2. _The same. Vasil still lying on the floor. Adrian enters - right, crosses and attempts to rouse him._ - -_Adr._ You must go to bed, my son. There is nothing for you to do. - -_Vasil._ [_Rising_] Nothing for me to do? Why am I in the world then? - -_Adr._ To be our light--our song--to find our angels for us. - -_Vasil._ [_Looking down at his violin_] It is broken. - -_Adr._ [_Picking it up_] You will mend it. - -_Vasil._ And the heart too? [_Goes to table, left front, and sits by -it, despondent and thoughtful_] We were wrong to-day, Adrian. I was -wrong. No one has a right to happiness while others are suffering -because of things that are in the _power of man_ to help. The _good_ -people who forget what is out of sight, as if misery--or duty--were a -question of eyes and ears, they are the most to blame. [_Rises_] If -they would all help--just all of the good. [_Goes to door, rear, and -stands a moment looking out_] The princess dances at the ball to-night. - -_Adr._ My boy! - -_Vasil._ [_Coming back to Adrian_] But they will not all help--not yet. -Perhaps the world of peace must come before the world of love, not out -of it ... as war has come before peace. The law of Moses was once the -best law. His race saved itself by it. Has the day of its necessity -passed, Adrian? Are we sure? - -_Adr._ It has passed for the man. - -_Vasil._ But humanity is so far behind the man. - -_Adr._ [_Gently_] That is what made Christ. - -_Vasil._ And that is what killed him! - - [_Enter a priest, street door_] - -_Priest._ Blessed be this house. - -_Adr._ Welcome, father. - -_Priest._ Is death here? - -_Adr._ Yes, father. [_Crosses to right and opens door for priest to -enter_] You have many visits to make to-night. - -_Priest._ Many, my son. [_Stops before Adrian_] I have a message for -the Shepherd of Lonz. - -_Adr._ [_Taking letter_] Thank you, father. - -_Priest._ Thank her that sent it, and God who made her heart. [_Passes -into room, right_] - -_Adr._ [_After looking over letter_] The princess has danced to some -purpose, my boy. Vera is free. She will be on her way to Odessa by -morning. - -_Vasil._ Free? The princess saved her? My princess! Did she write it? -[_Taking letter_] I will read it with kisses! - -_Adr._ It must be burnt. - -_Vasil._ No, let me keep it--a little while. - -_Adr._ We must be careful. Hush--some one is coming. - - [_Vasil retreats to table, rear. Enter Korelenko in great - agitation_] - -_Kore._ Yaltowa is on fire! We are one night too late! They must have -heard---- - -_Adr._ On fire? Now? - -_Kore._ I waited with Gregorief at Breshloff's, the others went on to -Yaltowa, where---- - -_Adr._ You waited for Petrizoff? - -_Kore._ This ball was only to cover their scheme---- - -_Adr. You_ waited with Gregorief for Petrizoff? - -_Kore._ He will pass through the village about four o'clock. - -_Adr._ But now--O, you are saved from that thing! - -_Kore._ Yes. If we kill him now the fire will seem only a part of the -deed. It will help them fix the lie upon us. - -_Adr._ Too late, thank God! - -_Kore._ You think of nothing but Petrizoff! What of the people -now dying in Yaltowa? Dying because he lives? Go see the horrors -there! The reactionists are everywhere in the streets, disguised as -revolutionists, looting and murdering! Your Karitz peasants are being -turned into beasts---- - - [_Adrian gives a deep groan and sits overcome, by table front, - left_] - -_Kore._ It is not too late! Our friends--Russia--freedom--yet may -live if you will help us! Your name will justify Petrizoff's death to -the world. With the loss of their chief the reactionists will be in -confusion, before they can recover you can organize the great leagues -into a militia---- - -_Adr._ You are mad to think such power is in me. - -_Kore._ You don't know your power! You can do it--you only--and it must -be done now--before the war in the East is over--before the Czar can -make new promises--give us the mockery of a constitution, and fool half -of us back to allegiance--before---- - -_Adr._ [_Rising, shaken_] It can not rest with me. One man can not make -destiny. - -_Kore._ Yes, when that man is you--when the time is now! Absolutism is -at its ebb. Will you wait till the tide gathers and flows over us again -in waves of blood? - -_Adr._ [To _himself, walking_] Are there then two codes? One for the -man, one for the race? And when they conflict, the man must yield? - -_Kore._ Codes! The question of a man's right to his breath is settled -outside of ethics! O, Adrian, brother, be a man to-night and not a -preacher! Never in the history of the world has there been a revolution -so ripe, so terrible, without a leader to march at its head. - -_Adr._ Humanity has dropped the club. It will drop the gun. Even the -soldiers are throwing it down. And shall I pick it up---- - -_Kore._ Only for a day! Petrizoff alone stands between us and the army. -Vitelkin, the next in power, is ready to join us. But he is suspected -already, and must soon resign--or be poisoned. If we remove Petrizoff -_now_ thirty regiments will come to us with Vitelkin, and others will -follow until the Czar is without an army. In a month--a fortnight--the -revolutionists will be masters of the nation---- - -_Adr._ _Masters_ of the nation! [_Walks away, and returns, much calmer, -to Korelenko_] If it is true that only the life of Petrizoff stands -between the revolutionists and triumph, he can not long be the sole -barrier. He must see his folly and change his---- - -_Kore._ [_Furious]_ Were he to turn angel now, he should die for his -past sins! - -_Adr._ [_Sadly_] I see. We should unfetter the avenging lion, not -loosen the dove of peace, with Petrizoff's death. - -_Kore._ I did not mean that. You know it was the anger of a moment. -[_Kneeling_] For the last time I beg you--in the name of all that -redeems man from the beast---- - -_Adr._ [_Very pale_] Rise, Korelenko. Heal ye first yourselves. Out of -your differences, your divisions, you make your master. If for one day -enmity should sleep, if for one day every lover of freedom should love -his neighbor, in that day the oppressor would fall. Rise! I will not do -it. - -_Kore._ [_Springing up_] You will! - -_Adr._ Will? - -_Kore._ Yes. The princess Sophie Travinski is betrayed to Petrizoff. I -hoped to prevail without telling you, and spare your heart what mine -suffers. - -_Adr._ Betrayed? - -_Kore._ She has aided to-night in the escape of a prisoner taken by -Petrizoff's order. He will know all by morning _if he lives_. - -_Adr._ This lie will not tempt me, Sasha. I can hardly believe you have -uttered it. [_Fearfully_] I might have believed you. - -_Kore._ I am prepared for your doubt. Gregorief waits outside. He will -support my word [_going to door_]. - -_Adr._ No! I will not see him again. It is true. [_Crosses uncertainly -and sits on bench before loom_] O, is there no end to this night? - -_Kore._ A princess Ghedimin went to Yakutsk for a lesser offence. - -_Adr._ Don't--don't speak. - -_Kore._ [_After watching him a moment_] If Petrizoff dies he will never -know. - -_Adr._ There is no time to warn her. - -_Kore._ Then the evidence will go to Petrizoff at once. - -_Adr._ You would do that? - -_Kore._ No, but Gregorief would. He is waiting for your answer. - -_Adr._ My answer? - -_Kore._ You know how to save her. - -_Adr._ [_Rising_] How? - -_Kore._ Join us. - -_Adr._ [_Sinking down again_] You might be merciful now, Korelenko. - -_Kore._ [_Unbelievingly_] You will not save her? - -_Adr._ Not that way. - -_Kore._ There is no other. - -_Adr._ Then she---- - -_Kore._ Adrian, I can not believe you. You will save her! - -_Adr._ How can I now? The struggle is over. For a heavenly motive I -refused to join you; I can not consent now for an earthly one. O, if -you had not told me! If you had pleaded a little longer--[_Realizes -what he is saying, and looks at Korelenko with a bitter smile_] You see -it is impossible. - -_Kore._ [_Raging_] I will kill you! - -_Adr._ Do, Sasha. - -_Kore._ [_Turning from him_] Vera! My little girl! - -_Adr._ [_Rising suddenly_] O, I have not told you---- - -_Kore._ What? Quick! - -_Adr._ Vera is free. Read this--where--Vasil, the letter! - - [_Vasil, who sits by the small table, silently lays the letter - upon it. Korelenko crosses and snatches it up_] - -_Adr._ [_As Korelenko reads_] You see they will wait for you on the -Petoff road until two o'clock. You must go at once. The princess -has arranged for you to journey with Vera if you wish, and you must -now, for to remain here means imprisonment on the Yaltowa charge. -[_Korelenko is dumb, looking at the letter_] Don't lose hope, Sasha. -You can still help us in America--perhaps do more for the cause there -than here--and you will have Vera---- - -_Kore._ [_Strangely_] You _must_ save her now, Adrian. - -_Adr._ She is saved. Haven't you read? Don't you see? - -_Kore._ Not Vera, the princess. It was I who betrayed her. And it was -Vera she saved. I was so sure of you. You said---- - -_Adr._ I am sorry for you, Korelenko. You have sold the angel in your -service. - -_Kore._ No! You did it! You deceived me! You swore you loved her! - -_Adr._ I swore the truth. - -_Kore._ Bah! Such love! Prove it! Prove it! [_Hurries to the little -cabinet in wall, rear, unlocks it, takes out a bomb from his pocket, -places it in the cabinet, locks the door and returns to Adrian with -key_] Prove it! I am going to Vera. Gregorief will wait at Breshloff's. -Send him this key within an hour and he will know what to do. [_Offers -key to Adrian, who looks at him silently. Korelenko throws key to the -floor_] There it is! Send it, or her fate will be on your soul, not -mine! [_Exit_] - -_Adr._ O, Infinite Love, why didst make us as men to try us as gods?... -And I might have saved her. Might? ... [_Goes slowly to the key, stoops -and picks it up. As he raises his head his glance falls on the portrait -of the Saviour on wall in front of him_] Unto seventy times seven. [_He -drops the key and takes a step or two toward the picture_] Thou too -wert man!... [_As he gazes at the portrait Vasil comes softly forward, -takes up the key, returns to table, and sits looking at the key as if -fascinated. Curtain_] - - - - -ACT III - - SCENE 1. _Same room. Vasil asleep on bench, rear, left. Adrian - watching by him._ - - -_Adr._ If I had saved him this day ... this night! But now ... what -peace can heal him? [_Rises and walks_] Lord, Lord, from out these -burning days, let one, just one, go free! As thou lovest thy world, let -him be spared, let him be spared! - - [_Enter Sophie, street door. Adrian looks at her - uncomprehendingly. She crosses to him_] - -_Adr._ Why have you come? - -_Soph._ To warn you! - -_Adr._ The boy--do not wake him. - - [_Sophie crosses to left, rear, Adrian following. She looks down, - at Vasil, stoops and tenderly kisses him, then moves away with - Adrian. Vasil opens his eyes and looks after them_] - -_Adr._ The last two hours have been terrible, but he rests now. - -_Soph._ You must take him with you. - -_Adr._ With me? - -_Soph._ I have come from the ball. - -_Adr._ I see. - -_Soph._ Orloff is a very weak man. I found out that you are to be -arrested to-night. - -_Adr._ It has come then. - -_Soph._ Is Korelenko going with Vera? - -_Adr._ I hope so. He has gone to meet her. - -_Soph._ Then you can't take his place. We must think of some other -way--and quickly. - -_Adr._ Not for me. It is you who must go. You are betrayed to Petrizoff. - -_Soph._ I hoped you wouldn't hear that. I am in no danger. - -_Adr._ [_Between fear and relief_] No danger? - -_Soph._ [_With a half smile_] By and by you will believe that I can -take care of myself. - - [_Enter Korelenko with Vera_] - -_Soph._ Not gone? - -_Adr._ You are lost. - -_Soph._ Why did you bring her back? You have no right to destroy _her_ -life! - -_Vera._ I would not go. My place is with Alexander. [_Softly_] You -ought to understand that, princess. - -_Soph._ [_To Korelenko_] She is a child. She did not know. You should -have gone with her. - -_Kore._ Your highness, that was impossible. - -_Soph._ It was not! All was prepared---- - -_Kore._ [_To Adrian_] Does she know? - -_Soph._ That I am betrayed? Yes, but the man entrusted with the -evidence happened to be a devoted servant of my own--[_Alexander -groans_] He will fall! And you--Adrian--what is the matter? - -_Kore._ [_Steadying himself against the loom and clasping Vera_] I have -thrown our lives away--mine and Vera's--that is all. - -_Soph._ Why couldn't you go with her? - -_Kore._ Because it was I who betrayed you. And could I accept life and -love at your hands? - -_Soph._ [_Shrinking_] You? But why---- - -_Kore._ I can not answer. Come, Vera, to your grandmother. - - [_Exeunt Korelenko and Vera, right, centre_] - -_Soph._ O, why did he do it? - -_Adr._ I can tell you. - -_Soph._ Then why? - -_Adr._ Because he believed--O, Sophie, beloved, before I speak, look at -me with the love in your eyes as I saw it first. I did not know it was -for me then. Let me see it now while I know you are mine--mine! Yes, -yes, you love me! - -_Soph._ Ah, Adrian, I am afraid I love nothing else. - - [_Vasil covers his eyes with his arm_] - -_Adr._ And you will kiss me once? - -_Soph._ Once? - -_Adr._ As if we were parting forever, Sophie. [_She embraces and kisses -him. He moves away from her_] Now I will tell you why Alexander could -not answer you, and why I can. He betrayed you believing that I could -and would save you. - -_Soph._ And you---- - -_Adr._ Could, but would not. - -_Soph._ [_Moving back_] What are you saying, Adrian? - -_Adr._ I could have saved you but I would not. Isn't it clear? - -_Soph._ [_Moving back till she stands in dim light_] No--I don't---- - -_Adr._ I would not consent to Petrizoff's death. - -_Soph._ [_Lifting her head_] O! [_Regarding him steadily_] You refused -your consent when you knew that his death would save me? - -_Adr._ [_Lowering his eyes_] I did. - -_Soph._ He, a murderer, whose death has been justly due a thousand -times, and I, innocent, the woman you say you love---- - -_Adr._ [_Bowing his head, not meeting her look_] I have told you the -truth. - -_Soph._ And that is why we part forever? - -_Adr._ That is why. - -_Soph._ Because I could not forgive you? - -_Adr._ No. I should want more than forgiveness. I should want you to -understand. - -_Soph._ That you were right? - -_Adr._ Yes. - -_Soph._ And I couldn't understand? - -_Adr._ [_Still hopelessly, not looking at her_] No. - -_Soph._ [_Coming nearer_] And we part forever? [_He makes no answer. -She comes nearer_] Forever? [_He is still silent. She comes near enough -to turn his face to hers_] Forever, Adrian? - -_Adr._ Sophie! [_Takes her in his arms_] - -_Soph._ O, do you think I will ever leave you now? - -_Adr._ You _do_ understand! - -_Soph._ [_Smiling_] That I can never be in your way? You will always -sacrifice me first? Yes, I knew that all the time, but you didn't. - -_Adr._ And it makes no difference? - -_Soph._ How can it when I love you? - -_Adr._ I wonder if _God_ understands women. - -_Soph._ O, some of them. The rest He made to puzzle over when eternity -hangs on His hands. - -_Adr._ [_Kissing her_] Heaven-heart! - -_Soph._ [_Releasing herself_] That must wait. We haven't a minute---- - - [_They hear steps outside, and stand waiting. Orloff and two - guards enter_] - -_Orl._ It is my turn to be surprised, your highness. I suppose you are -here to assure _this_ prisoner of safety. - -_Soph._ What prisoner? - -_Orl._ Adrian Lavrov. - - [_Guards put fetters on Adrian's wrists_] - -_Adr._ For what crime am I arrested? - -_Orl._ [_To guards_] Keep him here until I return. - -_Adr._ For what crime? - -_Orl._ For crime sufficient. - -_Adr._ I insist upon knowing. - -_Orl._ You will know soon enough--in the next world. They say -everything is known there. - -_Soph._ He is ashamed to tell you. You are arrested as chief instigator -in the burning of Yaltowa. - -_Adr._ Is it possible? - -_Soph._ More than possible. It is so. That is the crime you will die -for unless you are rescued by a rising of the people. - -_Adr._ That must not be! - -_Orl._ Don't worry. We are giving your friends enough to think about. - - [_Sophie has gradually neared the door. Orloff steps before her_] - -_Orl._ Pardon me, your highness. You invited me into your carriage a -few hours ago. I beg to return the courtesy. - -_Soph._ Let me pass! - -_Orl._ You will leave here only under my escort. - -_Soph._ I know where I shall die then. - -_Orl._ You have cost me one prisoner. - -_Soph._ What proof have you? - -_Orl._ None--yet. But I know it. - -_Soph._ O wonderful sagacity! - -_Orl._ And I shall lay my reasons before Petrizoff. - -_Soph._ I suppose you believe, too, that I would rescue the Shepherd of -Lonz? - -_Orl._ I shall at least not lose sight of him until he is in prison. -[_Sophie turns her back upon Orloff_] You must come with me or stay -here under guard. I don't promise you as pleasant a journey as you gave -me, for I shall not be at so much trouble to please. I shall not even -ask you to let me repeat the little kiss---- - -_Soph._ Sir! - -_Orl._ On your hand, which you so kindly permitted. [_Sophie again -attempts to pass him_] Will your highness take my arm to the carriage? -We have only a short distance to drive before meeting Petrizoff. -[_Looking at his watch_] He ought to be almost here. - -_Soph._ I will stay here. - -_Orl._ In shackles? - -_Soph._ [_Holding out her arms_] Yes. - -_Orl._ Stay then. But I will not bind you. - -_Soph._ No, I might not forgive you _that_ if it turns out that you -have made a fool's mistake. - -_Orl._ There is no mistake, as you will learn after I have seen -Petrizoff. [_To guards_] No conversation between prisoners. [_To -Sophie_] Let me assure you that _these_ guards can be trusted. [_Exit_] - - [_Adrian sits in the large chair, a guard stationed on each side - of him. Sophie sits on low stool before him, and lays her head - upon his knees_] - -_A guard._ [_Anxiously_] It is not permitted to communicate---- - -_Soph._ Then don't, sir! - - [_Silence for a moment, then the noise of horses approaching_] - -_Soph._ Ah--Petrizoff! - - [_Vasil rises cautiously. The guards have their backs to him and - the door. He stands on the bench, unlocks cabinet, takes out the - bomb, puts it under his blouse, and goes softly out_] - -_Adr._ Sophie--Sophie--you do not regret---- - -_Soph._ No, no! Don't, Adrian! Forget all but love--love--love! This is -the last--the last---- - - [_Sound of trampling without, shrieks and noises. They start - and listen. Korelenko runs through the room from right and out - at street door. Vera comes on after him. Adrian and Sophie rise - and look questioningly at each_ _other. The guards lift their - weapons. Adrian looks toward bench and sees that Vasil is gone_] - -_Adr._ Vasil! [_To Vera_] Is he in there? - -_Vera._ No, Adrian. - -_Adr._ He has gone out. He will be hurt. [_Looks suddenly at cabinet, -which is open_] Who has been here? Gregorief? [_Stares at cabinet. -Sophie's gaze follows his. He turns to her, speaking slowly_] There was -a bomb in that cabinet. Could it be possible--that---- - -_Soph._ [_Gently_] I am afraid it is true. - -_Adr._ Never! Not him! - -_Soph._ Adrian! Beloved! - -_Adr._ [_Not heeding her_] Vasil! Vasil! [_Staggers to seat by table, -front, left. Guards keep by him. Enter Korelenko followed by Gregorief -and others_] - -_Vera._ [_Running to Korelenko_] Vasil--where is he? - - [_Korelenko is silent_] - -_Soph._ Is he hurt? - -_Kore._ The boy--or---- - -_Soph._ The boy. - -_Kore._ Not hurt, but taken. - - [_Adrian throws his fettered arms upon the table and lays his face - upon them_] - -_Soph._ Is Petrizoff dead? - -_Kore._ Only a wound. This night belongs to hell. O, if it could have -been as we planned! - -_Soph._ No one is killed? - -_Kore._ No one but Orloff. - -_Soph._ Orloff dead! [_Under her breath_] Then I am safe. - -_Kore._ Gods, if only it had been Petrizoff! His escape is -unbelievable. [_Turning to Adrian_] What says the preacher now? - -_Soph._ Don't! See his fetters? - -_Kore._ Ah! When---- - -_Greg._ [_Crossing to Adrian_] Fortunate man! Now he may develop his -soul! - -_Soph._ How can you? - -_Greg._ How could _he_, madam? How could _he_? Do you know what he -has done? He has killed every man that died in Yaltowa to-night--he -has slaughtered every child--he has outraged every woman! What else? -Freedom offered him her hand and he struck her to earth! He has -scattered her forces--he has strengthened her oppressor--and the rivers -of blood that must now drench Russia shall flow from his door! But--ha! -ha! he has saved his soul! - - [_Enter Irtenieff, attended_] - -_Irtenieff._ I want the prisoner, Adrian Lavrov. [_No one answers. He -sees Adrian and crosses to him_] What is your crime? [_Adrian does not -raise his head_] - -_Soph._ None. - -_Irten._ You are arrested for the burning of Yaltowa? All prisoners -taken on that charge are free by the order of Petrizoff. - -_Soph._ Take off his chains! - - [_At a sign from Irtenieff guards unfetter Adrian, who does not - seem to know what they are doing_] - -_Kore._ Such an order from Petrizoff? What does it mean? - -_Irten._ It means that he is frightened into saying his prayers for a -day or two. - -_Soph._ Adrian, my dear one, look up! - -_Irten._ [_To Korelenko_] And if you've a particular regard, as I've -heard, for the little beauty there, you'd better get her out of Russia -before his scare rubs off. - -_Kore._ Thank you, sir. - - [_Exeunt Irtenieff, men, and guards left by Orloff. Dawn has been - gradually breaking, showing through door and window, rear. Sophie - continues to talk softly to Adrian and finally he raises his head_] - -_Adr._ They will bury the sunshine of the world--shut up his golden -years in darkness---- - -_Soph._ We will free him, Adrian. We will live to set him free. - - [_Zarkoff, and Vasil guarded, appear at door_] - -_Zarkoff._ [_Stepping in_] Now show your accomplices. [_Vasil stands on -the threshold, silent, looking eagerly at the faces in the room_] You -swore you would tell who helped you if we brought you here. - -_Vasil._ I will. - -_Zar._ [_Pointing to Gregorief_] Is he one? - -_Vasil._ Let me take my time. You wouldn't hurry on your way -to Schlusselburg, would you? I must speak to my friends first. -Adrian--father, brother, master--the songs have all come back. When I -only looked on, doing nothing to help, the music stopped, but now---- - -_Zar._ Too many words, sir! - -_Vasil._ Now I am doing my part, I have a right to my song. They will -take me to---- - -_Zar._ Stop that! - -_Vasil._ And under the stormy waters my heart will be singing---- - -_Zar._ Say your good-bys, and be done! - -_Vasil._ Put your ear to my violin, and you will hear---- - -_Zar._ Come! - -_Vasil._ You must yield something too, Adrian. Step back to the law of -Moses for vantage if you can leap to Christ with the world in your arms. - -_Zar._ You have broken your oath! - -_Vasil._ I have not. I will tell you. - -_Zar._ Speak then. Who are your confederates? - -_Vasil._ There is but one. - -_Zar._ Who? Where is he? - -_Vasil._ He is here--in this room--he is in every prison in Russia--he -is in every heart that knows the meaning of love--but if you want to -arrest him [_stepping back into the sunlight and pointing upward_] you -must go up there, for he is God. - -_Zar._ That for your blasphemy! [_Strikes Vasil on the mouth with his -sword_] Off with him! - - [_Guards take Vasil off. Zarkoff follows. Silence broken by a - groan from Adrian_] - -_Soph._ Beloved, beloved, he shall be free! The whole world shall help -us! - -_Greg._ May we knock down the prisons now, Lavrov? - -_Adr._ O God, in all thy ages can this be justified? - -_Kore._ _You_ can justify it in a moment. Adrian Lavrov, this is your -call to war. If you respond, his life is well lost. - -_Adr._ War? [_Staggers up_] Yes. And I will use the strongest of -earthly weapons, the arms of peace. The powers that upbuild are as -invincible as the universe. By them it stands. Only by their toleration -do the forces of destruction live. Toleration? Only by the _support_ of -the powers of peace do the powers that destroy exist. Is not the army -of the Czar fed by us, clothed by us, paid by us? And if we refuse to -give, must it not beg of us? If he who works not shall not eat, what -is the doom of the destroyer? The sower shall not sow for him, the -reaper shall not reap for him, the builder shall not build for him, -the physician shall not heal him, the scholar shall not teach him, the -lawyer shall not plead for him, no trade shall supply him, no craft -shall assist him, no art shall amuse him. The mills shall be silent, -the wheels shall not turn, the wires shall be dumb, until he cries out -"Peace, thou art master: let me be so much as thy servant!" - -_A revolutionist._ Right! This, too, is war! - -_Adr._ Yes. The new war of a new day. Not in madness hurling bombs, but -giving our pity as we take our right. - -_Man._ And who will pay your soldiers of peace? Must not their women -and children eat? - -_Adr._ The money we now pay to our brothers to strike us shall put -bread in our mouths. - -_A revolutionist._ Keep the taxes! - -_Man._ You join us at last! - -_Adr._ No. We join each other ... under the only unconquerable power. -Gather an army and go forth with guns, and you may be laid in the dust. -But the gathered forces of peace are as the fingers on God's hand, one -with His strength, one with His will. Friends, friends, we have been -searching earth for the weapon already in our grasp. The woman at the -loom, the mujik in the field, the workman on the housetop, the man at -the wire, the throttle, the wheel, hold it in their hands. To know its -might--to use it together--that is all. _Together!_ O, they must see -it--as I do now! I will gather my disciples, we will knock at every -door and preach the gospel of united peace until all our unions are one -union, all our bodies one body, with one breath, one heart, one head. -In barin and peasant, mechanic and noble, Christian and Jew, Finn, -Pole, Czech, Serb, Georgian, Tatar, must be born as in one man the -conscious strength of peace. And to its deliverance I give my life, my -soul! [_Sits down. Sophie leans over him_] ... Yes ... he shall be free. - -_Greg._ [_Who has been searching Vasil's violin, comes forward with a -paper in his hand_] They shall _all_ be free! We will make no terms, -we will accept no constitution, till every dungeon door be open, till -we hold in our arms the brothers who have made freedom no longer a -dream of the night but a song of the morning! To them we owe the -liberty that is dawning, and shall we tread the earth they give us -while they perish beneath it? Hear our latest martyr--the youngest of -us all. Hear the "Voice of Schlusselburg!" - - [_Reads_] - - We are deep, we are deep - Beneath your swift feet - That pass and yet pass - With unfaltering beat; - But life has no sound - That can deaden our moans, - And no measure of ground - Can bury our bones, - Can bury our bones. - - We have given ye all - But our lingering breath,-- - The light from our eyes, - The prayer at our death. - The wine of the days, - Drink it up, drink it up! - But our hearts, as the grape, - We pressed for the cup, - We pressed for the cup. - - Through the measureless sun - Your seasons shall sway. - Pluck the fruit as your own, - Ye have nothing to pay; - For your summers of bloom - Are the summers we've lost, - And we in our tomb, - We pay the red cost, - We pay the red cost. - - Your youths shall be wed - And the maids shall be fair, - But the tears we have shed - Are the pearls they shall wear; - Your bride ye shall seek - As never we could, - But the rose on her cheek, - It is dyed with our blood, - It is dyed with our blood. - - The lips of your child - Shall be warm on your own, - But 'tis cold, it is cold, - Where our babes lie alone. - The hand of your friend - In yours ye shall take, - But look ye!--the scar - Ours wear for his sake, - Ours wear for his sake. - - The feast shall be spread - And the world shall be there, - But set at the head - Our invisible chair. - Ay, the banquet is ours, - For our dishes make room! - Each baked by the fires - Of a smouldering home, - Of a smouldering home. - - We are deep, we are deep - Beneath your swift feet - That pass and yet pass - With unfaltering beat; - But life has no sound - That can deaden our moans, - And no measure of ground - Can bury our bones, - Can bury our bones. - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -THE SIEGE - -A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS - - - - -CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY - - - DIONYSIUS, _the Younger, tyrant of Syracuse_ - DION, _a Syracusan noble_ - ARISTOCLES, _the Athenian friend of Dion_ - OCRASTES, _a young lord, attached to Dion_ - HERACLIDES, _admiral of Syracuse_ - PHILLISTUS, _an ambitious courtier_ - CALLORUS, ÆGISTHUS, _friends of Heraclides_ - SPEUSIPPUS, _from Athens, friend of Aristocles_ - PANTHUS, _captain of Dion's Grecian guards_ - DOMENES, _captain of the tyrant's guards_ - TIMOLEON, ASCANDER, _lords of Syracuse_ - GYLIPPUS, MENODES, DRACON, _citizens_ - BRENTIO, _slave to Dion_ - TICHUS, _slave to Aristocles_ - - ARATEA, _wife of Dion_ - NAURESTA, _a noble lady_ - THEANO, _daughter of Nauresta_ - METHONE, _woman to Nauresta_ - - _Soldiers_, _citizens_, _messengers_, _dancers_, _&c._ - - SCENE: _Syracuse, Sicily_ - TIME: 356 _B.C._ - - - - -ACT I - - SCENE 1. _A pavilion in vineyard near Dion's house. Enter Dion and - Aristocles, followed by Brentio and Tichus._ - - - _Dion._ That Dionysius bends the neck of pomp - To do you honor, shows an eye yet false - To your true merit. - - _Aris._ But 'tis better, Dion, - Than to have found his frowning archers planted - Point to our landing ship. - - _Dion._ He'd not have dared - To greet you so, but this vain, strutting show - Wrongs you no less. - - _Aris._ Himself far more. - - _Dion._ Ay, friend. - The mines of earth into one coffer poured - Would not enrich a spendthrift or insure - Him linen for a shroud. If you can not - Prevail with him--If? Nay, you will. All ifs - Lie down before your wooing argument. - - _Aris._ I knew his father when the years had stripped - His agued soul, and his untutored age - Looked from a crabbed eye upon the world. - For him I would not have a second time - Foregone Athenian groves, but youth that keeps - An open door to Wisdom as to Folly, - May even of Virtue make at last a guest. - - _Dion._ My hope is born again, now you are here. - When I have seen pick-thank philosophers - At ear of Dionysius, seeding his mind-- - Wherein my toil had set fair Ceres' garden-- - With foul and flaunting weeds to overrun - My country, I have been tempted to forego - The idle reaping, uplay the soil itself, - And with some few and trusted followers - Rouse a new Spring to breed us gracious harvest. - - _Aris._ But he who strikes at heritage gives riot - Fair leave to play above his trampled grave, - And rather than usurp a wrong with right, - You bend your strength to make the wrong a virtue. - - _Dion._ Ay, so the young tyrant has my knee, but thus - To keep my mind at bow and flexure proves - My patience 'fore the gods. Welcome the day - When I may honor Truth in honoring - The head of rule in my belov�d city! - But now no more of state austerities; - I would be glad one hour and nurse the joy - Of seeing thee. Thou'st brought me half my heart - That kept with thee in Athens. - - [_Enter Brentio_] - - Well? - - _Bren._ My lord, - The mistress comes. - - _Dion._ In happy season. - - _Aris._ Mistress? - - _Dion._ My wife. - - _Aris._ Art married, Dion? - - _Dion._ Since you sailed; - To Aratea, Dionysius' sister, - But as unlike him as the eternal sky - To moody ocean. - - _Aris._ Married? That the word? - - _Dion._ Fast bound, indeed, to one who will not break - Our souls' knit circle. She is Virtue's servant, - And wears her fairest flower, beauty. - - _Tich._ [_Aside, as Dion looks off left to see if Aratea - approaches_] Ha! - A beauty! I will warrant it. There be - Some ugly wives i' the world but no man married 'em. - - _Dion._ [_To Brentio_] Come, sir. What entertainment is provided? - - [_Dion talks aside with slave_] - - _Aris._ So goes my friend. He who was happiest lost - In the vast solitude of a noble book, - Or Truth's deep-pathed discourse. A wife. Is this - My journey's end? That little haven whence - No harbored sail dares sea? Port of delay, - And pocket of emprise, whose shallows oft - Have sunk the mightiest hope of greatest states! - - [_Enter a servant_] - - _Ser._ [_To Dion_] My lord, the captain of the harbor - waits. - - _Dion._ [_To Aristocles_] One moment, friend. - [_Exit, right_] - - _Aris._ That lordly soul a-dream - In woman's arms! That heaven-cleaving mind - At fireside tattle with a gossip dame! - Now comes the sunward ranging eagle down - To sit by nest, a tame prudential spouse. - Where sped the proud ambassador of morn - On wings that clipped the burning orient, - Hovers the cautious mate at pains to find - A youngling's breakfast. - - [_Re-enter Dion_] - - _Dion._ Come, my friend. You're skilled - In harbor matters, and I need your word. - - [_Exeunt Dion and Aristocles, right_] - - _Bren._ Is your wise man married? - - _Tich._ That's a fool's question. - -_Bren._ True, but--Peace! Yonder comes the mistress. I must be off. -"Entertainment," quoth my lord. Which means a gentle sally of honest -nymphs, and a sort of mild, virtuous music at hide-and-seek in the -vineyard. You must to court if you would know how wenches can trip in -Sicily. Come, brother stranger. I'll take care o' your enjoyments. You -shall see us with both eyes, I promise you. - - [_Exeunt Brentio and Tichus._ _Enter_, _left_, _Aratea_, _Theano_, - _Nauresta_, _Ocrastes and Phillistus_] - - _Ara._ I'm not convinced, Phillistus. Who may search - The wreckage 'neath a smile, or count the tears - Deep in a stoic eye? Let us believe - Aristocles is not in nature cold - As his philosophy. - - _Oc._ I'll freeze my sword - A winter night, then warm his heart by 't. Cold! - - _The._ You've seen him? - - _Oc._ At the landing. - - _The._ Now we hear! - What is this marvel like? - - _Oc._ A frozen god. - Apollo cast in snow. - - _Phil._ Sicilian suns - Are warm. - - _Oc._ He's proof 'gainst sun. Why, he doth cool - His liver with his blood,--hath not a stir - Of whetted sense, be 't anger, love or pain, - To prick him mortal. - - _Ara._ He is young to be - So true a sage. - - _The._ They come. Prepare, O eyes, - To wonder! - - [_Re-enter Dion and Aristocles_] - - _Ara._ [_Advancing_] Welcome, noble Athenian. - Your fame has oft made voyage to our shore, - And we rejoice that now you follow it. - Please know my friends. - - _Dion._ [_To Aratea, as Aristocles greets the others_] - Why is Phillistus here? - Are we so poor, my dame, the enemy - Must sauce our feast? Nay, nay! - - _Ara._ I hope, my lord, - My brother's subjects are not enemies. - -_Phil._ [_Who has stood apart, approaches Aristocles_] Welcome to -Sicily, although your breath is somewhat frosty for our warmer -pleasures. - -_Ara._ [_As Dion frowns_] The frost that draws the poison, saves the -flower, you mean, my good Phillistus. - -_Aris._ A fair interpreter! - -_Phil._ Ay, when we know not our meaning, let a woman find it. - -_Oc._ Which she will do the more readily if we mean nothing. - -_The._ True, her wit is generous. She'll always bait a hook that angles -painfully. - -_Oc._ Though she, good soul, must hang herself upon it. - - [_Theano and Ocrastes move aside, bantering. Aratea turns to - Phillistus and Nauresta_] - - _Dion._ [_To Aristocles_] Ocrastes is a youth full dear to me. - Orphaned at birth, I've bred him from a babe. - He is of bravest heart, and must leap high - Although he fall o'er heaven. - - _Aris._ And the maid? - - _Dion._ The daughter of my brother some years dead. - Her bloom might make e'en priestly blood forget - To pace with vows, but she is true, and kneels - To wisdom's star. Hast yet no eye for woman? - - _Aris._ For all things fair. That is my staff 'gainst age. - We're young so long as we love beauty. - - [_Aratea moves to Dion and Aristocles, leaving Nauresta and - Phillistus together_] - - _Nau._ See - This feathered snuggery? - - _Phil._ A vine-lark's nest. - - _Nau._ Touch 't not. We'll lose a song by you. 'Tis strange - These dare-wings build about our heads, when they - So fear us. - - _Phil._ Farther. Birds are not my study. - - [_They move aside_] - - _Nau._ Frowning again, my lord? - - _Phil._ And reason for it. - I like not yonder pairing. - - [_Looks at Theano and Ocrastes_] - - _Nau._ Would that your plans - Might leave them happy! - - _Phil._ False? I'll not believe it - Of thee, Nauresta. I've given thee confidence - As open as the ungated dawn; unlocked - My secrets; fixed within your breast, as in - My own, my darling purpose! - - _Nau._ 'Twas my counsel - In Aratea's ear that brought you hither. - And why these dark reproaches where I hoped - To see the color of your gratitude? - - _Phil._ What's done, though ne'er so well, but makes a way - For what's to do, Nauresta. - - _Nau._ Ah, my lord, - I know not how to please you. - - _Phil._ Learn. To me - Be wax, and adamant to all touch else. - Mad Dionysius is in revels lost; - Dion is far too stern for common love; - Between the two my hope makes fair ascent - Above the clouds of state. 'Tis I must reign. - Then we, my queen, must see our daughter wed - To some strong noble who will prop our power. - Ocrastes' love is bound inseverably - To Dion. Keep him from Theano, sweet. - Look on them now. See how she bends to him? - - _Nau._ Nay, she is modest, sir. - - _Phil._ But mark! He speaks, - And crimson runs her cheek, as though his voice - Did paint it magically, which bids him fair, - For know you not that love on blushes feeds - As plundering bees on roses? He is sure! - 'Twill task you hard to ward from port who bears - So bold a sail. - - _Nau._ But I will do it. Ay! - - _Phil._ Again you are all mine! [_Nauresta moves to - Theano and Ocrastes_] Thus do I woo - The mother, with the daughter in my eye. - - _Ara._ [_To Aristocles_] Ah, yes, I know you'll cast fond - sighs toward Athens, - And in the night look through the dark to her-- - A myrtle-crown�d bride without her lord-- - But yet our land, too poor in Ceres' smile - To outwoo Acad�me, may show some charm - To ease your banishment. - - _Aris._ O, 'tis an isle - That 'neath the eye of Zeus might bloom nor blush - Save at his praise; yet holds within itself - Treasure that ornaments its cruder worth - As gems make eyes in stone,--a friend whose hand - Leads Virtue's own, and woman's beauty crowned - By starry mind as I ne'er hoped to see - Till at the port of the immortal world - My eyes should meet my dreams. - - _Dion._ What now? So soon, - Aristocles? - - _Ara._ My lord? - - _Dion._ I knew she'd find - The gate to your forgiveness. - - _Phil._ [_Aside_] My tongue creaks - Amid this piping. - - _Dion._ True, she's fair enough - For praise, but I'm a plain prose lover, friend, - Nor, like a doting osier o'er a brook, - Pore on her features, wasting oil of time - That should burn high in task of gods and state. - - _Phil._ [_Aside_] I'll cast a pebble in this summer pool. - [_To Aristocles_] Sir, you will find our Dionysius worthy, - The proud descendant of a prouder sire, - Upholding well his shining heritage. - - _Aris._ Worthy I hope he is, but even kings, - My lord, may wrap them in humility, - Nor boast descent, when demigods of earth - But bastards are in heaven. - - _Dion._ Ay, some of us - Should curvet not so high, bethinking of - Our audience in the clouds; for this brave world - Is but a theatre whereto the gods - For pastime look, and whoso makes most show - Of plumes careering and proud-lifting stride - Is but the greatest anticker of all - To their high eyes. A little music, friends. - - _Phil._ And in good time! A sermon then a song. - - [_Enter dancers, the two in advance bearing urns which they place - on a small altar, singing_] - - Bring cedar dark, - And ruby-wood, - Bring honeyed-bark, - The Naiad's food, - Till altar flame - And incense rise - In friendship's name - To seek the skies. - - [_Chorus by maidens bearing wreaths of olive and laurel_] - - Myrtle leave on Venus' tree, - Nor the Bacchic ivy see; - Olive bring, and laurel bough. - And may hours that gather now - Of his years fair token be! - - [_They bow before Aristocles and continue dancing_] - - _Aris._ [_Watching Aratea_] The sun has made a shrine of - her bright hair - Where eyes would worship, but her fairer face - Lures their devotion ere they gaze one prayer. - - _Phil._ [_Crossing to Aristocles_] Aristocles, I swear yon - dancer's foot, - Curving the air, marks beauty of more worth - Than all the fantasies of dream you write - On heavens conjectural. - - _Dion._ [_Angrily to Phillistus_] It suits you well - To treat the theme deific with bold tongue. - No thought so high but you would trick it out - In shrugging sophistry! - - _Phil._ [_Going_] Farewell. The court - Has always welcome for me. - - _Dion._ Farewell, my lord. - And Ceres send you grace! - - _Phil._ [_Turning_] Beware, proud Dion! - The topmost limb makes an uneasy seat. - Who perches there must take account of winds, - Lest dignity go forfeit to surprise. - By Jaso, sir, your cause is fallen sick, - Nor Athens emptying all her wits may heal it! - - [_Exit_] - - _Ara._ My lord, a little patience---- - - _Dion._ Patience, madam! - Would words were meat for swords! I'd had his crop! - - [_Enter a royal messenger_] - - _Mess._ Most noble Dion, greeting from the king. - He begs you'll bring the Athenian sage to banquet, - And see some shows within the royal gardens. - - _Dion._ More revels! More? This cracks the very glass - Of our fair prospect, wherein we saw him sit - With listening ear to wisdom. - [_To messenger_] No! - - _Ara._ My lord---- - - _Dion._ Say to the tyrant I'll not feast with him. - - [_Exit messenger_] - - _Ara._ May I be bold to say this is not well? - I fear, my lord, your stern, imperious port - Is much against you in our easeful city. - If on occasion you would smooth your brow - To patient lenience you in time would win - All hearts to wear the livery of your purpose, - That now shows cold and sober for their mood. - - _Dion._ Not so! The bending tree ne'er kissed the clouds. - I will not stoop! What? Flaunt his sport before - A sage's eye, who comes at his own suit - To teach him truth? - - _Aris._ Yet we must not forget - Discourteous truth is hated; vehemence, - The whip of argument, but frights conviction. - Pardon so stale a word. - - _Ara._ But 'tis so true! - The winding zephyr, not the hurrying gale, - Finds out the hidden rose. My brother's heart - Has yet a grain of good, which gentleness - May find and touch to life. - - _Dion._ It was the slight, - The unseemly slight to you, Aristocles, - So chafed me. - - _Aris._ Think but of our charge, my friend, - Fair Syracuse. - - _Dion._ So, so! I say no more. - Your wisdom be to me Athene's shield - Whereby I'll see to strike this head of wrong - Nor be devoured. Come, we will walk abroad. - But not to court. - - _Aris._ [_To Aratea_] My wishes wait on thee. - May Fortune dress thee for a second self - Till eyes mistaking seek thy face for hers. - - _Ara._ Nay, let her wed thee, and like loving wife - Give all her portion, then empty-handed pluck - New grace from heaven to adorn thee still. - - [_Exeunt Dion and Aristocles_] - -_Nau._ Now, Aratea, the song of praise! Which of the gods is he most -like? - -_Ara._ Like none of them. Jove is long-bearded, Neptune has forgot to -walk, Mercury is boyish, Apollo like a woman, and Mars so heavy-footed -he would stumble mocking the grace of Aristocles! - -_Nau._ 'Tis plain a curious eye will never take you to Olympus, since -you've seen the Athenian. - - _Ara._ I own I have a sudden comfort from this gentle sage. - - _Nau._ What is it? - - _Ara._ You know my Dion has one only fault. - - _Nau._ O, all but perfect man! - - _Ara._ He is so true that he is stern as truth. - - _Nau._ That's truth indeed! - - _Ara._ So just that he is harsh as Justice' self. - - _Nau._ Another truth! - - _Ara._ So good that---- - - _Nau._ What! More of this singular fault? - - _Ara._ This Athens' tongue, so sweetly mediate, - Will lead the people's love unto my lord, - Who now upholds the state in thankless sort. - They honor and admire, but keep their hearts - For those who woo them! Ah, I blame them not. - - _Oc._ Dion need borrow no Athenian tongue - To speak for him. - - _Nau._ You'll hear no voice denies - Him perfect praise. - - _Oc._ Who would deny it? - - _The._ None, - Ocrastes, none. How like a gem unpriced - His rich simplicity doth shine amid - The purpled show of lords! It is as though - The sovereign alkahest, weary of law, - Had given the scorn�d pebble leave to glow - The fairest eye of all the pearl�d shore. - - _Ara._ They'll sing us deaf, Nauresta, on this theme. - But come. [_Draws Nauresta away_] Come, madam, come! We must prepare - Some good-wife pleasure for my lord's return. - - [_Exeunt Aratea and Nauresta, left_] - - _Oc._ [_Embracing Theano_] My love! At last! O goddess Patience, how - Thou muffledst me! Time crept on thousand legs - And each one crippled. - - _The._ Ay, so slow the hour - Moved to this golden now I thought each moment - Turned back to seek some loss and spent itself - A second time. - - _Oc._ Now all the world's at morn. - How young we are, Theano! O, 'tis true - Life is at tick of dawn when love begins. - - _The._ I'm older then than you, for I 'gan love - The day you won the laurel from proud Carthage. - In the wild race how like a shooting star - You made a heaven of earth's grosser air! - And 'twas that day I heard old warriors say - Your lance would dare prick ope the clouds till Mars - Looked forth to combat. Ah, I scarce believe - Our island's easy lap did bear you, and thank - The gods that wealth, whose poison-pampered tooth - Likes best the marrow-sweet of youth, has left - You still a man. - - _Oc._ Truth weeps when lovers talk, - But where is sound more sweet? All that I am - I owe to Dion. Give to him the praise, - If praise is due, and you would please me best. - - _The._ Thy approbation is my glass of merit, - And there alone am I array�d fair, - Yet for his sake, not yours, I love lord Dion. - 'Tis wonder's hour in wonder's day he should - So fit his life, despite the careless time, - To please the gods. - - _Oc._ When shall we tell him, love, - Of this new joy of ours? - - _The._ My mother first. - - _Oc._ Didst note her frown? - What has so changed her, sweet? - - _The._ I find her troubled late, as she would soothe - Her breast above some panting mystery. - - _Oc._ She must disclose the cause, and show if 't has - An honest face. I'll have no mincing doubts - And ghostly secrets peering on our love. - - _The._ She is our gentle mother. Wait, my heart! - - _Oc._ Phillistus is too often at her ear. - Have guard against him. In his smoothest words - He'll subtly seat a devil to confound you. - 'Tis pity. Eloquence is the flute o' the soul, - Which virtue alone should play, for good or bad - It has immortal consequence. - - _The._ He was - My father's friend, and well may be my mother's. - - _Oc._ Ah, but he coos too near her widowed nest. - - _The._ Ocrastes! Can you dare? My noble mother! - Whose sorrows sit like shadows in her eye? - Whose loyal breast asks no embrace less chill - Than the cold tomb where my dear father lies? - - _Oc._ 'Twas but a word. - - _The._ Unsay it, O, unsay it! - - _Oc._ Ay, by our island's god, 'twas never spoken! - - _The._ I've scarce a breath, Ocrastes. - - _Oc._ And that breath - This kiss must drink. You will forgive? Speak not. - These clinging lips have told me. A kiss, Theano, - Unseals all secrets but to be their grave. - Then we know all, and all we know's forgot. - 'Tis saying true, a kiss is worth the world, - When, having it, there's no world but a kiss. - - [_Re-enter Nauresta and Aratea, left_] - - _Nau._ [_Crossing to Theano_] Still here, my daughter? - - [_Enter Brentio, right_] - - _Bren._ O, mistress, the master is coming with Dionysius. - Since he would not take the Athenian to court, the court - is coming hither. - - _Oc._ Here? 'Tis a strange declension of his pride. - - _Ara._ I fear 'tis cover for a thrust 'gainst Dion. - - _Oc._ No! Virtue such as his is heavened above - The reach of sceptres. - - _Ara._ But he was too bold - In his refusal to attend the feast. - They come! And Dionysius' brow is like - A new, unclouded sun. No eyes for us! - - [_Enter Dionysius_, _Aristocles_, _Dion_, _and lords_] - - _Diony._ [_To Aristocles_] Speak on, nor cease t' enchant - my rous�d ear, - Although thy words, like honey from the isle - Where Ate fell, are something mixed with bitter. - But give me not to virtue suddenly, - Lest she disdain the greening, unripe fruit, - And from her sun I do forever fall. - - _Dion._ Heed then his counsel, Dionysius. - A ruler is the state's bountificer,-- - High warden at the gates of happy good,-- - And when he turns unto himself the stream - That should make fair his country, he is damned - As oft a robber as his subjects count. - Each man he meets may claim his golden coat! - - _Diony._ What's your rough meaning, sir? - - _Aris._ 'Tis this, my lord. - Here is a land born in a dream of Nature, - And given to man to please her waking eyes - Until she thinks that yet she dreams. His task - To build the adorning temple, turn groves retired - To happy shades where wisdom meets with youth, - And with triumphant art set statued thought - To gleam abroad from every favored spot - Till e'en the flattered gods be tempted here - In marble fair to wait on mortal eyes, - And genius roam in generation free, - Breathing the constant good of mind aspiring, - Till not a clod, be it or earth or human, - But knows a smile to make itself more fair. - How should it grieve thee then to see the pomp - Of one, sole, only man heave with the weight - Of all the state, and wear in barren pride - The fertile beauty of his golden isle? - - _Diony._ Divine Athenian, if I be that man, - Be thou the master of my realm till I - Have learned what 'tis to be one. Teach me here - My first new duty. - - _Dion._ Check debauching riot - That sluices now the palace! Cease these feasts - That fume to heaven like Hecate's brewing-vats! - Nay, sir, those scowls unwrite your waterish vow. - - _Aris._ Our Dion means, my lord, that virtue wanes - As revels wax; and yet an hour of rest - The gods allow us. I myself have trained - Young figures for the dance that wreathes with grace - The needful, idle hour. - - _Diony._ You leave us music? - - _Aris._ Ay, 'tis the angel 'tween the sense and soul, - A hand on each, that one may feel the touch - Of purest heaven mid rosy revelling, - The other catch sweet trembles of a wave - That shake her calm till white cheek meets the rose. - - _Diony._ And feasting, sir? - - _Aris._ Nay, there's the soul's expense - For what o'erdims her fair, majestic visions; - But fruits of sheltered vales grow lush for man, - And awny grasses droop with sugared grains, - And wine, tempered to reason's flow, oft lights - The questing mind. - - _Diony._ Enough! No groaning board - That shifts its burden to the spirit! No revel - To pleasure Pleasure! Naught but what is meet - For fair philosophy's relaxive hour! - Adrastus, see 'tis done. Go instantly! - [_Exit Adrastus_] - Dion, you're for the harbor? - - _Dion_ With your leave. - - _Diony._ Which we must grant. Your business is our own. - - _Oc._ With you, my lord? - - _Dion._ Most welcome son. Adieu. - - [_Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes_] - - _Ara._ Brother, 'tis long since you have visited me. - I hold a magnet now in our new friend - Will draw you to my house. - - _Diony._ Nay, I must rob you. - The palace is his home. - - _Ara._ O, not to-day! - - _Diony._ I'll yield to-day, but not an hour beyond - To-morrow's sun. Adieu, Aristocles. - Give me thy love; I'll give thee Syracuse. - - [_Exeunt Dionysius and lords_] - - _Ara._ [_To Aristocles_] We have some statues in the garden, sir, - May please an eye from Athens. Will you come? - - [_Exeunt Aratea and Aristocles_] - - _The._ Mother, why look so darkly on Ocrastes? - - _Nau._ Darkly, my daughter? - - _The._ Has he not a soul - As truly virtuous as his face is fair? - - _Nau._ True, but he's not for you. Believe it. - - _The._ Ah! - - _Nau._ Nor grieve my heart with pleading to know more. - Some day I'll speak, but now my bosom's locked - With key not in my hands. - - _The._ Mother, I pray - You'll give no more a flattered, willing ear - To lord Phillistus' tongue. - - _Nau._ What do you mean? - - _The._ I do not know. I am disturbed by him. - I scarce can tell you how. - - _Nau._ To call him friend - But proves my loyalty to the loved dead. - - _The._ I do not doubt my mother! No, no, no! - But him I fear. His eye speaks muddily, - And echoes not his words. - - _Nau._ No more of this! - You prattle, child. Say that he loves me---- - - _The._ Ah, - Not that! - - _Nau._ Yet were he villain, is not love - The soul's sweet cleanser and redeeming incense? - - _The._ The serpent and the bee make food and venom - Of the same flower's sweetness; so fair minds - In love enlarge with merit, while villainy, - Sucking such sweet, swells rank and poisonous. - - _Nau._ No more, my daughter! - - [_Enter courtiers, right_] - -_Nau._ Good-day, my lords! You are early from the play. Did it not -please you? - -_First courtier._ Tame, tame. I'd not have left my couch at the bath -for such. And Dracon's tongue was middle of a pretty tale. - -_Nau._ But the banquet--why stayed you not for that? - -_Second courtier._ Have you not heard? The seven evil winds have struck -the feast, and left but fruit and wine. My wife's as good a cook. Can -serve a plate of figs! - -_Nau._ What's this? - -_First courtier._ As we say. Our delectable gardens are smit with -sudden prudent frost. The mullein and the plantain shortly will grow -where we have plucked luxuriance' rose. - - [_Enter Aratea and Aristocles_] - -_Nau._ What do you mean, my lord? - -_First courtier._ [_Looking at Aristocles_] The wind is all too near -that wrought this havoc. - -_Aris._ Nay, have no fear for Dion. You wrong this hour of promise. -Your brother yields us much. - -_Ara._ Indeed too much! These sudden born desires are to be feared in -him. Ah, here's Ocrastes. - - _Nau._ He's much disturbed. I know that brow. - - [_Re-enter Ocrastes, right_] - - _The._ Ocrastes? - - _Oc._ Now heavens shake for what mine eyes have seen! - I followed Dion to the southern shore - Where the new pinnace floats beneath the castle, - And there Domenes held him in close talk, - When suddenly ere wink could question it, - The soldiers had him bound within a boat - Outrowing to the pinnace, which took him up - And bent to sea like an embodied wind. - But that a score of traitor arms enforced me - The waves had kept me not on hated land! - Surprise so stormed him Dion scarce could call - "Revenge me not, but seek to calm the city!" - Then from the pinnace a relenting boat - Brought this short writing. 'Tis for Aratea. - - _Ara._ Read--read--Ocrastes--I--I can not see. - -_Oc._ [_Reads_] Aristocles will be thy comfort. Bid him not forget -Syracuse to think of me. Now that the thorny counsellor is plucked -from court, he can do much with Dionysius. Ocrastes will be to thee a -brother of more love than ever was the tyrant. Sweet, farewell. 'Tis -from thine eyes I'm banished, not thy heart. - - _Ara._ O Dion, Dion! My unhappy lord! - - _Aris._ Abate thy grief, dear lady. Affliction is - The night of man where stars his lustrous soul - That in a happy sun would pale unseen. - - _Ara._ My brother! 'Tis his treacherous hand! O, me! - Now heaven and earth be naught, I care not! - - [_Exeunt Aratea, Nauresta, Theano and attendants_] - - _A courtier._ Come! - There's more to this. - - _Another._ Ay, friends, let's to the streets. - - [_Courtiers hurry away. Ocrastes and Aristocles alone_] - - _Oc._ I'll rouse the populace! - - _Aris._ No, you will calm it. - - _Oc._ Sir, I was knit in heat and tempered mortal! - Your natal star was cold when you were born, - Dead in the heavens, had long forgot its fire, - And could not give one twinkle's warmth to you! - I've blood, and know my friends! - - _Aris._ Dost think that sorrow - Lives only in hot brows? No angers be - That rage not on the tongue? - - _Oc._ O, you can feel? - - _Aris._ Here sweep the tides that prove it. - - _Oc._ Yet so calm? - - _Aris._ Who keeps his heart astir with his own woe - Has never room for others. Let us put - Our paltry love aside and seek the good - Of all the city, not of one because - He is our friend. Think not a man may leave - Life's reefed and breakered straits behind and reach - Philosophy's still-waved almighty sea - With selfish sorrow's mottled pilot eye. - - _Oc._ And you've a mortal pulse? Can love and die? - - _Aris._ I am as you, Ocrastes,--heart and limb,-- - But I have given my kingdom to my soul, - And throned secure above the body's chance - Rock not with its misfortune. - - _Oc._ Who can keep - Such sovereign state, my lord? Art never torn - Or shaken? - - _Aris._ What hap of winds, think you, may shake - The monarch towers of the soul? - - _Oc._ Forgive me, - Aristocles. Thou sun immovable! - How like Hyperion fixed in calm you shine, - And riot's faction in my blood grows still - With looking on thee. I'll to court and strive - With sober measure to effect repeal - Of Dion's banishment. And failing that, - I yet may save for him his untouched wealth. - [_Going, turns_] - Is it not lonely on the serene height, - My lord? - - _Aris._ The gods are sometimes there. - [_Exit Ocrastes_] - The gods? - Vain words on vainer tongue. O, man, man, man! - Weak child of limit and unwinged desire, - Coping with deity in daring bout, - And drowned at last within a woman's tear! - ... Hyperion fixed in calm. Ay, true it is - That in the heaven of my sphering mind - I've reached the pause solstitial. And would fain - Take comet course on new, unbidden track - Than traverse o'er the stale appointed route. - Ay, break the orbit's fond and placid round, - And swim a wonder to the staring suns! - The end is death,--and yet a comet's death. - The rushing wings are round me, bear me up, - And drive me like a meteor charging doom, - When Aratea veils me with her eyes. - - [_Enter Tichus_] - -_Tich._ [_Aside, noting Aristocles' groan_] Ho, for ill that's past and -ill that is to come, philosophy has ever a saw, but in a present pinch -speaks not for groaning!... My lord, the lady Aratea asks for word with -you. - - _Aris._ [_Hesitating_] Tell her ... I come. - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -ACT II - - SCENE 1. _An outer court, Dioniysius' palace. Two entrances to - palace on the right. Columns rear. Sea and sky seen between them. - Behind columns a street. At left a garden. Speusippus and lords - pass from street toward garden._ - - - _Speu._ Dion, my lords, has gathered friends in Athens, - And waits your invitation to set sail - With power for your relief. Six circled moons - Have risen from the sea since he was banished - And you are dumb as you were staring yet - Upon the marvel of his taking off. - - _First lord._ What is his life with you? - - _Speu._ He walks a mark - For Athens' eye,--a breathing virtue, sir, - Making the good in other men stand still - To gaze at what in him is better. - - _Second lord._ This - Is his true color. - - _Speu._ True? By Pallas, sir, - Apollo purges not more ardently - The earth of humors than he iniquity - From man and state! Divinity has made - His heart her brooding place to bring forth deeds - So like her own complexion that men read - The book of Heaven in them and grow wise - Without the aid of schools. - - _First lord._ We know our loss. - - _Third lord._ The tyrant sends him his great revenues. - - _Speu._ Which Dion casts like sweet and general rain - On parching poverty. His charity - Is a perpetual summer where bruised merit - Lifteth in flower. - - _Second lord._ So was it here. - - _Speu._ And you - Could have him home had you some brave Greek blood - At heart. Please you, I've heard a shepherdess - Combed wool on Dardan plain when Troy was burning - Methinks Sicilian sires bred from that dame. - - _First lord._ By Zeus, this is bold rating. - - _Second lord._ 'Tis our due. - 'Twixt caution's pause and the delay of shame - Lies but one step, and Syracuse is on it. - Courage grows agued and hunches at the hearth - Forefearing enterprise. - - _Speu._ Can you be still? - - _Third lord._ No more, my lord. Here's Dionysius. - - [_They move into garden as Dionysius enters from street with - Aristocles and other lords, and turns toward palace_] - - _First lord._ He's well attended. - - _Second lord._ Ay, let tattered vice - Step out o' door and contemnation hoots - It home again, while silken viciousness - May march as 't will 'tween meek uncovered polls, - With Flattery's footmen running neck and neck - To open any gate. - - _First lord._ True! true! - - _Speu._ Talk! talk! - A sword's the tongue for me! - - _Third lord._ The tyrant speaks. - Hark, friends! - - _Diony._ Aristocles, excepting thee - No man alive might teach me hate myself. - Say what thou wilt, I'll love thee! - - _Third lord._ Fair enough. - - _Second lord._ Fair in the flower, but no fruit, my lord. - The fragrance sickens. A sound wholesome deed - Were pungent sniffing! - - _Aris._ Sir, upon the soil - Of this fair courtesy I'd lodge a seed - Might bloom with Dion's pardon. - - _Diony._ Pardon Dion! - By Delos' horned altar, no! My tongue - Compound my own destruction? - - _Aris._ Sir, your tongue - Is bound to you, but I could wish it had - A wiser master. - - _Diony._ Roast me in the bull - Of Phalaris, if I be such a fool! - Thou know'st that he conspired against me! - - _Aris._ Nay---- - - _Diony._ With honey breath you steal into my heart - But to betray it! - - _Aris._ I pray your leave to sail - From Sicily. Greece hath a place for me - Above insult. - - _Diony._ Go when you will. To-day! - Our admiral shall bear you. - [_To Heraclides_] Hear you, sir? - Choose out your ship. Aristocles, farewell. - Talk not of me i' the Acad�me. - - _Aris._ My lord, - The gods take care we've no such dearth of matter. - Farewell. - - _Diony._ [_As Aristocles turns to go_] Dost mean it? - Nay! Spoil not my jest. - Canst take offence from one who loveth thee? - In truth wouldst go? - - _Aris._ The winds that fan me hence - Will be as welcome as the breeze that lifts - The sail of calm-bound mariners that long - Have in mid-ocean rocked and dreamed of food. - - _Diony._ No, no, my friend! Thou shalt not go from me! - Dost call thyself philosopher, and take - First chance to fly thy duty here? Hear you, - Lord admiral. Watch every gate nor let - This bold man pass. Sink the Sicilian fleet - Ere you do spare a ship for hire or pity - To grant him sail and beggar me of friends, - For all my friends are corporate now in him. - [_To Aristocles_] Talk not of parting while you have my love. - Cold yet? Go seek my sister. She will bring - Your high look to sweet friendship's level. Go. - Yours is the only tongue can draw her from - Her tearful reticence. Tell her the stars - Will find me with her. I have news too new - For pale indifference. 'Twill rouse her wrath - Or pleasure. - [_Speusippus and companions pass from garden to street - and off left_] - Ha, what Greekish stranger there? - - _Phil._ Speusippus, sir. - - _Diony._ Methought his acid look - Had turned my purple cloak a pauperish yellow. - - _Phil._ Aristocles best knows him. An Athenian. - - _Aris._ [_Who is slowly going into palace by smaller entrance, - front, turns_] And worthy of his birth. He is my friend, - And brings me Dion's love. - - _Diony._ That name again! - ... Well, thou 'rt my soul. - - [_Aristocles goes into palace. Dionysius turns to larger entrance - rear_] - - _Phil._ [_Detaining Heraclides_] A word with you, my lord. - - [_Dionysius and attendants enter palace_] - - _Her._ What's urgent, friend? - - _Phil._ Marked you Speusippus? - - _Her._ Ay. - - _Phil._ He comes to stir a war in Dion's name. - Already there's a rumbling 'mong the people - That warns us to be swift. - - _Her._ My fears have caught it. - - _Phil._ The tyrant's mood is ripe. See how he loves - And hates Aristocles? This is the hour - To move him to the Athenian's death. - - _Her._ You're right. - When friendship oars 'tween choler and regard, - A crafty hand may steer which wish�d way - Sets wind of secret business, and he - That rides be none the wiser. - - _Phil._ The Athenian - Removed, then Dionysius is our own. - - _Her._ Well have short need of him. The tyrant's guards - Are envious of the Greek to murder's pitch, - Because he counsels Dionysius - To cast them off and rule by love alone. - The captain stands our friend, his sword aloft - To fall as turns the hair. - - _Phil._ The guards must do 't. - The people hold them privileged in humors, - And say not yea or nay to them. But does - Callorus join us? - - _Her._ He yet hesitates. - - _Phil._ Then cease your suasion and to his easy state - Clap screws will cramp. Pain is the orator - Can clinch his case and drive the question home. - - _Her._ You'll to �gisthus? - - _Phil._ Ay, though we've a difference. - A trifle that his vanity may stand on. - - _Her._ Make your excuse, but study how you do it. - Faults oft are none till clapped conspicuous - With an apology. - - _Phil._ I've learned of you. - None has a tongue more apt to come at love - 'Neath what ill cover hides it. Dionysius - I leave to you. My name use as 'twere yours. - My sum of wisdom is to know your own - And trust you wholly. - - _Her._ That you may, Phillistus. - My fame rests on this move. [_Exit_] - - _Phil._ Your fame, good sir, - Has naught to do with what I close intend. - By Victory's wings, I'll reach the top of power, - Or from her golden ball knock Fortune's foot - And steer her course myself! Now to Nauresta. - - [_Goes into palace, front entrance. Brentio, Tichus and Methone - enter merrily from garden. Brentio carries a large harp. They sit - on benches left_] - -_Bren._ These are merry days since Dionysius brought us to the palace. -I would weep for my poor banished master, for they say a far country -makes a weary foot, but there's so much laughing matter here--the -singing and the rhyming, and the pretty wenches tripping your eyes up -at every corner, that my tears are no more out than I've good reason to -whip them in again. - -_Meth._ O Venus! There's no laughing here save of your dreaming. Dost -see how the courtiers scowl? They say the scholars and philosophers -leave them no dancing room in the palace; the halls are full of sand -for the pleasure of the students that come to draw those foolish -figures--plates, they call em---- - -_Tich._ Geometry. - -_Bren._ That's your master's doing. Thank the wise man for that! - -_Meth._ It suits our mistresses well enough. They blink at a smile as -an owlet at the sun. Troth, I've seen them weep so much that I feel -wrapped in a fog with the vapor of their tears. - -_Tich._ But let us be merry. No more sad airs, my sweet Methone. - -_Bren._ [_Aside_] I like not this sugary possessive.... Play, my own -sweetest Methone, and I'll sing you a song out of head. - -_Meth._ Pray you, sing it not out of feet too, for a limping line is -past carrying. - -_Bren._ 'Tis a song of you and will go fast enough, I warrant. - -_Meth._ [_Scornfully_] Of me? - -_Bren._ Nay, of your jewels! - -_Meth._ An you mock me, I'll---- - -_Bren._ [_Touching his lips_] Your rubies [_pointing to his eyes_], -your diamonds [_grinning to show teeth_], your pearls. - -_Tich._ You may sing that song when diamonds wink tears, rubies pucker -for kisses, and pearls bite figs i' the morning. - -_Bren._ Well, I've a better one. [_Sings_] - - Her voice is like the birds that wive - When blossoms swing in April trees, - And from her bosom's honey hive - Sighs come and go like bees. - Her smile---- - -_Meth._ Nay, I'm no farm-house sweet for loutish Corydon! How would you -sing me, master Tichus, were I in Athens where every maid is fair? - -_Tich._ With more truth and less boast. - -_Meth._ Your song, sir. - - [_Tichus sings_] - - Heigh-ho, my star of love - Has left its heaven high, - And all the beauteous court above, - To dwell in fair Methone's eye. - And now, alas, unlucky bliss, - It finds a home so bright - That all its beauty buried is - Within that fairer, cruel light. - - No more, no more it shines for me - But as she gives it leave! - O, bid thy stars, sweet maid, agree---- - -_Bren._ Ho, if heaven had no stars save those left by lovers after -fitting up their mistress' eyes, Erebus would stumble for want of -candles! - -_Meth._ [_Jumping up_] Go! I hear my mistress! - - [_Tichus walks leisurely into garden, Brentio following_] - -_Meth._ Brentio, take the harp! - - [_Brentio returns and picks up harp_] - -_Bren._ So! I'm an excellent dromedary, if I can't flute it like Apollo. - -_Meth._ Run, snail! - -_Bren._ Not I, by Vulcan's limp! - - [_Theano appears at smaller entrance of palace_] - -_The._ Methone? - - [_Brentio runs into garden_] - - _The._ [_Coming out_] You here, Methone? Attend the lady Nauresta. - I fear your pleasure and your duty lie - Too far apart. [_Exit Methone, right_] - Ocrastes, come! My love! - Fair clos�d flowers that wait the royal dawn - Ere they will sport with beauty's open face - Are as my heart that caseth up its joy - To wait thy voice. - - [_The day darkens to dusk. Theano looks into the garden, suddenly - eager_] - - He's coming! No, he stops - To talk with Brentio. How close they whisper! - What is 't he gives the slave? For shame, bold eyes, - To spy upon a lord so true! What was 't - Phillistus said? No matter. It was false. - - [_She moves aside as Brentio crosses to palace_] - - _Bren._ [_Jingling coins_] O sweet, sweet gold! Art mine--all - mine--my love? - And will I do it? Ay! I'd sell my soul - To such a brave paymaster. - - [_Enters palace_] - - _Oc._ [_Coming on right, not seeing Theano_] - Vile, too vile! - Let me not think of it. - - _The._ Ocrastes? - - _Oc._ Ah, - My never-setting star! - - _The._ But you are troubled. - Hast news? - - _Oc._ Rumors, my girl. They're in the air - Like floating poisons. O that Syracuse - Had one man in 't! - - _The._ Look in my eyes and see him. - - _Oc._ One sword in one right hand! - - _The._ Here, in my eyes. - - _Oc._ I see a dallying, damn�d temporizer, - Who stops to count the threatening dragon's teeth - Ere reaving him of head. - - _The._ My love, what is it? - - _Oc._ Still Dion lingers, playing the game of wits - In idle Athens, while scandal eats his name---- - - _The._ Ocrastes! - - _Oc._ Yes, I said it. - - _The._ Ah, you mean---- - - _Oc._ I mean---- - - _The._ Aristocles. - - _Oc._ O, Dion, Dion! - - _The._ Speusippus says he comes. - - _Oc._ Too late he comes - That should be here already. - - _The._ Dear my love, - He is not young as you, and years are cautious. - While age makes ready to resent affront - The blows of youth are given and forgot. - - _Oc._ Ah, my Theano, I've but one place of peace-- - Nay, I've not that--your pity-housing bosom. - Though �olus' thirty sons made centre round me, - There should I rest as on a summer cloud - Rose-covered by the toil of flying doves - To keep off heaven's tears. And you deny it! - - _The._ My own! - - _Oc._ You do not love me! - - _The._ Hear him not, - O patient Heaven! - - _Oc._ Come to me, Theano. - - _The._ Not while my mother lives to suffer for it. - - _Oc._ My love, as nature runs, she must die first. - Forgive my rudest tongue--but will you then-- - When so she goes--bring all this heart to me? - I'm tortured lest her bitter will against me - Should reach back from the tomb. - - _The._ Ah, my beloved, - The wounds we give the dead must fall unfelt. - Then why should senseless graves wound life? Ay, then-- - Unhappy happy then--I'll be all yours. - - [_Enter Methone, right_] - - _Meth._ Mistress Theano, your mother is strangely ill. - I pray you, come. - - _The._ O me, my fatal word! - - _Oc._ Nay, 'twas our watchful star moved me to urge it. - Let me go with you, love, and strive once more - To win the picket of her bluff regard. - - _The._ Not now. Wait here until I come again. [_Exit Theano_] - - _Oc._ The silken bud that holds a treasured world - Uncaskets nothing in the hour of bloom, - But fans the air with its own waste of leaves. - Even so my hope, that with the swelling year - Pressed to a summer crown, unfolds on naught - And prodigal of self to naught is come. - - [_Goes into garden. Stars appear in the sky visible beyond - columns, rear. Servants come out of the palace and set lights - about the court. Enter Aratea and Aristocles from palace, front. - They cross to rear and sit between two of the columns_] - - _Ara._ Aristocles--my Dion's friend and mine-- - rest upon your soul and feel encirqued - By silent potence, like the quietude - Of heaven when gods are still,--when prayers come not, - And enters no desire. So strange--this peace. - My infant eyes oped on a shaking isle, - And I was cradled in my father's wars. - O soon, too soon, I knew woe's touch of death! - But these are living days--days to be wreathed - With memory's stars, and circled new each morn - With pearls iridian from regretful eyes - That they--such days--can pass. - - _Aris._ Eternity - Looked once upon the world, where lingers yet - Some brightness of her eye that we call Time. - Can aught so fleet hold value of thy tear? - Thou who hast the immortal heritage? - - _Ara._ I can not say. Your mind in heaven sleeps, - And by the day you but recall your dreams; - While I, my lord, couch not so gloriously, - And from the earth must speak. - - _Aris._ O, not from earth---- - - [_Re-enter Ocrastes_] - - _Ara._ [_To Ocrastes_] Will you not sit with us? - - _Oc._ Nay, I'll rest here. - - [_Lies down on one of the long seats_] - - I know you talk of Dion, and one who loves him - Brings no intrusive ear,--or if it is, - 'Tis deaf with weariness. - - _Ara._ [_To Aristocles_] He's tempest-racked - Between his love and friend. Ay, me, the world! - - _Aris._ I'll leave you now. No more of my poor thoughts. - You're wearied with long listening. [_Rises_] - - _Ara._ O, sir, - Your thoughts are flowers and your words their fragrance; - I do not hear but breathe them. Pray you, stay! - - [_He slowly resumes his seat. She looks silently at the sky. He - writes on tablet_] - - _Ara._ Aristocles, thou wilt be god of gods - When thou 'rt among those stars; but now, O friend, - Come nearer earth. Be mortal for my sake. - I'm fearful when you're gone, or when your soul - Keeps court so far above me. - - _Aris._ I'll read to you. - - _Ara._ What you have written there? - - _Aris._ No--no--'tis nothing. - - _Ara._ Ah, do not read to-night. I am so lonely - That even with a book I would not share thee, - Though it should tempt with the most wondrous hap - Of bard or lover caught in liquid line. - You've travelled much; tell me an Egypt tale. - I'm weary of nymphs, and piping shepherd songs, - And the ever-wrangling gods of blue Olympus. - - _Aris._ Then hear the tale of Isis as 'tis told - By the prophet-cradling Nile when Lotus buds - Upbreathing blow new seasons of old dreams. - Not e'en our Venus, dove-led, invisible, - More softly moves to Paphos wood than she - O'er sleeping earth. Her wings lead on the light, - And when she lifts them dawn awakes. - - _Ara._ Fair Isis! - - _Aris._ She seeks her brother, self-created, slain - By his own pride, for he was God of All. - Her tears, like weeping music, sweeten earth, - Nor rests she till she finds him. - - _Ara._ Sister Isis! - - _Aris._ And then--none knows how hid in solitude - She suckles death with life till he new rises - The God of All, too great for pride, too just - For death; the sire of Beauty, breathing Life - Through Love,--soul of the nurturing sun-- - The mother-breast of fields--the parent thrill - Of birds, of trees, of flowers--of all that makes - Most sweet the fair world's mortal pageantry,-- - Yea of the eternal, vital glow that throbs - Within humanity's deep-rubied heart. - So runs the myth, dear Aratea. - - _Ara._ Ah! - How runs the rubric of thy thought that sets - The symbol plain? Read that to me, I pray thee. - - _Aris._ The lonely mind may not uprafter stars, - And vain, adventurous man who of himself - Createth Heaven must see it fall. Then doth - The woman spirit, girdle of the worlds, - Above the ruins cry,--his mate forgot - Who from his flesh by love's divinity - Calls forth the beauteous eternities - To star the globe of life. - - _Oc._ [_Rising_] Which is to say, - As simple people speak in Sicily, - A man must wed! - - _Ara._ Ocrastes, talk not so! - Like stars that may not range below the zenith, - His meaning keeps the orbit of high thought, - And will not dwell in gross and simple words. - - _Oc._ Ho, mistress Dion, you too would like to spin - Your cobwebs round the moon! [_To Aristocles_] Get you to Athens, - While you may say to Dion she is true! - - [_Aristocles tries to speak_] - - O, ay, I know what you would say, my lord. - You would not love Aurora though she dropped - Her morning mantle at your feet and blushed - Herself revestured. No! But Aratea! - She has a human heart,--eyes that can fill - With tears,--soft hands that love the thing they touch,-- - A body that might be the ivory cup - Delight doth use to dip and measure out - The rose-flood of her pleasure. Go, I say! - Take to the sea, and leave no track my sword - May follow. [_Rushes into garden_] - - _Ara._ Sir, forgive his madness! Ah, - He is distracted by these wrongs to Dion. - I have not told you, friend, that Dionysius - To-day seized all possessions of my lord, - And stopped all moneys to him. In this deed - Ocrastes reads the preface to new woes, - Which shakes his mind's security and gives - A living color to his fantasies. - - [_Aristocles stands gazing out, not showing his face_] - - But Heaven and I know your white soul, my lord---- - - [_Enter Callorus, from palace, larger entrance, with guards_] - - _Callo._ Your pardon, worthy sage and fairest lady. - I come from Dionysius, whose care - Has bared a plot against Aristocles, - Whom he for safety bids repair at once - To the castle fort, where he must rest to-night - In sure protection of the royal guards. - - _Ara._ The guards? The royal guards? - - _Callo._ You will make haste, - My lord? Before the people move against you. - Hearing that Dion has set sail with troops - To level Syracuse, they think 'tis by - Your aid and counsel. Pray you, lose no time. - - _Aris._ I'll go with you, Callorus. Not from fear, - But to keep riot down that else might shake - The city's peace. [_To Aratea_] Farewell. - - [_Exeunt Aristocles, Callorus and guards, by street_] - - _Ara._ Farewell? I could not speak. - The tyrant's guards! They hate Aristocles. - My fears have now a shape and short will show - Their foulest face. I must take means at once - To learn the truth. My careful Dionysius, - I will be vigilant too. - - [_Turns to go in. Picks up a bit of paper_] - - 'Tis what he wrote - And said 'twas nothing. O,--a pretty rhyme! - - [_Reads_] - - _Thine eyes are on the stars, my Star! - Would I might be - That heaven far - With thousand eyes on thee!_ - - He is a poet. Ay, 'tis but a rhyme. - And yet--'tis very pretty--I will keep it. - - [_Re-enter Ocrastes from garden. He approaches Aratea as if he - would speak, but she hurries into palace, entrance front, without - seeing him. He retires in gloom_ _as Dionysius and a train of - lords come out of palace, large entrance, rear_] - - _Diony._ Come, friends! Now is the sweetest garden hour, - When day's dust-foul�d trail is passed, and night - Has not yet donned her moist and heavy cloak. - - [_They cross to garden_] - - Here let us wait the lords. We've summoned all - Of golden purse and of right noble line. - Now that we've stopped all revenues to Dion, - And this night give our sister to a husband - Of our own choosing---- - - _Oc._ Dionysius! - - _Diony._ Ha! You, Ocrastes? Know to whom you speak! - - _Oc._ My lord, you would not dare---- - - _Diony._ Not dare? That word - Is strange to me. Will some good scholar here - Tell me its meaning? - - _Oc._ Pardon, mighty lord. - I sought to warn you that the wife of Dion---- - - _Diony._ Your blood moves hotly off in Dion's cause, - And warning from our chief suspected foe---- - - _Oc._ This arm has fought your battles, sir! - - _Diony._ Ay, so. - Would we might rank your famous valiancy - Once more with us, but while we doubt your heart - You are our enemy. - - _Oc._ What proof, my lord---- - - _Diony._ We'll find it soon enough. Till then have care, - And dainty walk 'tween wolf and precipice! - - [_Dionysius and lords go into garden_] - - _Oc._ No cry this wrong would give the sea new tongue, - And mend the winds with utterance! But now - No time for sighs and groans. The tyrant's brow - Is hung with murder's cloud. I must be quick - Or lose the breath ties me to upper earth. - Action must take the vantage now of thought, - And reason follow after. - - [_Re-enter Theano, from palace_] - - _The._ I was long. - ... She's better now, and quiet. - - _Oc._ Better? Who? - - _The._ Who?--O! My mother. - - _Oc._ Fie, does she yet live? - - _The._ O gentle gods! - - _Oc._ All women now should die. - - _The._ Ocrastes! - - _Oc._ Do not stare. Thine eyes are not - The only home of agony. Farewell! - - _The._ Farewell? No, no! [_Clinging to him_] - You'll tell me first! What is it? - Will you not trust me? - - _Oc._ 'Tis thy trust I want. - - _The._ Thou hast it. - - _Oc._ Swear 'tis mine. - - _The._ My lover! - - _Oc._ Swear! - Thy trust! Thy perfect trust! - - _The._ 'Tis thine. I swear it. - - _Oc._ Though fiends of doubt hail thee on every side, - Venting their slander from the mouth of winds. - Yet wilt thou trust me? - - _The._ Ay, my lord, I will! - - [_Lords begin to enter from the garden_] - - _Oc._ Once more to-night I'll see thee. Go! - - _The._ My love! - - _Oc._ Go, go! - - [_Theano goes into palace. Dionysius comes from garden. Ocrastes - moves aside and stands in shadow_] - - _Diony._ 'Tis time our sister should be told - Our happy purpose. - - _A lord._ She is here. - - [_Aratea re-enters, and hastens across to Dionysius_] - - _Ara._ My brother, - I came to seek you. Lord Aristocles---- - - _Diony._ Ay, troubles press upon us, dearest sister, - And much is trembling in adventure's hand. - Now do we need your husband's strength to meet - Ill fortune's tide. - - _Ara._ Then you have sent for Dion? - O, you forgive! - - _Diony._ Speak not that traitor's name! - He is the foe 'gainst whom I must go forth. - You are to wed a lord whose might shall be - My own. To-night! Dost hear? - - _Ara._ Ay, Dionysius. - - _Diony._ And art not pleased? No thanks that I provide - For your forsaken state? Now, now! One word. - Stand not so fixed, as I had ordered you - To instant death. - - _Ara._ You make me marble, sir. - Unloose my soul's locked torture with the key - Of one retracting word, or I must seek - In kinder stone my sole relief from pain. - O, say it is not so! This is a jest - Will make you weep when you---- - - _Diony._ Jesting to fools! - Not thron�d skies can change what we've determined. - This rebel brow shocks my fond heart that toils - In your ungracious service. Come, my friends. - All to the council hall! With me, my sister. - - _Ara._ O, brother, not one moment to look back - And say farewell to Heaven? Not one to gaze - Into the darkness ere I plunge to hell? - - _Diony._ And let the hour 'tween my intent and deed - Lay meddling finger on my purpose? Nay, - You know me better, madam. On my lords! - Delay's the whetstone sharpens best the blades - Of enemies. - - _Ara._ Go, sir! I am myself. - I will not move. If you will tear me hence, - And drag your father's daughter at your feet, - Then you may take me to the council hall. - - _Diony._ Your pleasure, sister. Here we'll hold our court. - Go, Clitus, to the steps and turn all hither. - - _Ara._ Art thou my brother, Dionysius? Nay! - We are of different mothers. Now I know - We are of different fathers, too. - - _Diony._ You dare! - Silence thy slanderous tongue! - - _Ara._ I say thou 'rt not - My royal father's son! - - _Diony._ His sword is mine! - - [_Seizes her in a rage, threatening her with his weapon; - then slowly releases her and she sinks to bench by pillar of - the colonnade. Lords assemble, some talking excitedly but in - undertone, others cool and scoffing. Speusippus and friends enter, - taking inconspicuous place. Ocrastes keeps in shade, motionless - and unnoticed._] - -_A lord._ Ha, Calisthenes, you need not come to bite at this bait. 'Tis -a dainty morsel and only goldfish are allowed to nibble. - -_An old lord._ I mislike this marriage. 'Twill bring us woe, let it -reach Dion's ears. - - _Another._ Ay, wars beyond our guess will come of it. - - _Young lord._ The admiral against �gisthus! - - _Second young lord._ Heraclides? He is much wived already. - - _Third young lord._ The easier to take another. - - _Second young lord._ �gisthus bids most fair. I take you. - - _Diony._ My friends, would that I had for each of you - So fair a sister, and were not thus forced - To choose among you. Who is first to speak? - - _Her._ I pray this gift, my lord. - - _Diony._ Brave admiral, - You would stand high, perhaps the highest with us, - Were't not that old wives make new enemies. - - _Icetes._ I'm free to give my undivided heart. - - _Diony._ But, good Icetes, age is creeping on you. - We want a fighting arm as well as heart. - Who else? No voice? Must we then hawk her up? - Look on her, gentlemen! Even tears may not - Disfigure her. This fit of sorrow past - You'll see her smile again, those wondrous smiles - You've longed in secret to make all your own. - A week, a day, will put some spirit in her. - - _Ara._ [_Rising_] To you, my lords of Syracuse! Think not - To wed the wife of Dion as she stands. - You'll pluck no rose in me. This face I'll sere - With constant travelling tears, till Beauty here - Shall search in vain for memory of herself. - My wealth I'll fling upon the air to birds - And beggars. Ay, my palace shall take wings! - My costly robes I'll cast into the street - That common women may adorn themselves. - I am no princess. I refuse the name - Of aught that makes me sister to that wretch. - Go seek some linen washer by a brook - And find a wealthier and a prouder wife. - - _Diony._ Spoke I not truth, my lords? You see how fast - Her spirit grows. Hear her sweet names for me? - Now we'll have bidders plenty. Thanks, my sister. - She'll sing, my lords, when once she's neatly caged. - - _�gisthus._ I beg---- - - _Callorus._ My lord---- - - _Diony._ 'Tis fit you both should speak - At once, for both alike sit in my favor. - �gisthus' lands are broad, but you, Callorus, - Have proved a mightier leader in the field, - And all in all you do deserve alike. - There's none may rank above you. - - _Oc._ [_Stepping out_] One, my lord. - - _�g._ There's none! - - _Callo._ Let him come forth! - - _Diony._ Who, sir? His name. - - _Oc._ Ocrastes. - - _Diony._ You? - - _�g._ Ha, ha! - - _Oc._ Why not, my lord? - - _Diony._ You're Dion's heart. You cast him off? - - _Oc._ You ask - For proof? I take his wife. Were I to warm - My fingers in his blood, I'd have more hope - That he would rise and bless me than to keep - His love while she lies on my bosom. - - _Ara._ O! - - _Oc._ I challenge any here to match my claim. - This is the sword, my lord, that held the city - Against the Tarentines when these brave nobles - Trembled behind their fast shut doors. - - _�g._ 'Tis false! - - _Oc._ All know 'tis true. Since boasting now's a virtue, - I'll do it well. Who wore the laurel wreath - That saved all Sicily a spreading blush - The day the Carthaginian youths were sent - Defeated home? You ask for wealth? My vineyards - Run to the wilderness. My corn now greens - On �tna's slope and yellows by the Gela. - My father's coffers are unopened yet, - And ships are sailing here will fill my own. - My slaves might meet an army, and I'll put - A sword in every hand for Syracuse. - In rank I bow to none. The blood of Pollis, - First king of Syracuse, runs yet in me, - And even Dionysius' royal self - Yields to my line the birthright courtesy. - - _Diony._ Enough. Now Dion's cause falls down. Enough! - Come to our heart, Ocrastes! There's not one - We'd rather win to us. - - _Speu._ [_Aside_] O, Dion, now all - Forsake thee but calamity, that like - A covetous ill wife hangs on thy fortune! - - _Diony._ By Pluto, no more fear! Our throne is safe! - - _Oc._ My lord---- - - _Diony._ Nay, brother! - - _Oc._ Pray be warned by one - Who knows too well your need. Not all the troops - Of broadest Sicily may keep you safe - When Dion comes from Greece. Men swarm to him - As he were golden Saturn giving off - New fortunes with each breath. Send me with speed - To Italy. There I have friends shall be - Your own, and pour a fleet into your harbor - Will turn lord Dion pale when next his eye - Scans Syracusan waters. - - _Diony._ Italy? - We'll think of it. You're the true warrior stuff, - Planning campaigns with the same breath you win - A royal bride. We like you better for it, - But she may like you less. Give her a word. - - _Oc._ O, fairest woman that ever made the earth - More sweet and beauteous to live upon, - You'll find in me a true and gentle lord. - These tears I'll teach to run a smiling race - And in a happy death forget their birth. - - [_Attempts to embrace her_] - - _Ara._ Open the prisons, call some convict forth, - And I will wed him, but not you! These lords - Have hated Dion, have not lived upon - His constant kindness. You have drunk his love - Like flowing wine, and lived by it! - - _Oc._ Rail on, - If railing pleases you. In aftertime - You'll love the better for it. - - _Diony._ Right! Give her leave, - And she will stroke you where she meant to strike. - - _Ara._ You love Theano! - - _Oc._ Ah,--I did, perhaps, - A thousand years ago. All now's forgot - But that thou mayst be mine. - - _Ara._ O, false---- - - _Oc._ O true! - What was scarce fair to unpossessing eyes, - Perfection is when gods have made it ours. - Thou wilt forgive me that I loved thee not - While thou wert Dion's, for my eyes were sealed - By loyalty to him. But this divorce - That frees thee gives me sight. I see, and love. - And by that love still dost thou grow more fair. - For is not love a second, truer eye, - Finding out beauty where the first could not? - No more! We'll plead hereafter. 'Tis an hour - To win, not woo. Swords must be burnished, sails - Must meet the wind! - - _Ara._ Are you Ocrastes? No! - O, no! He is the son of Dion's love, - And you would wed his wife. He was a poor - Forsaken babe, his mighty heritage - Plunder for any thief. 'Twas Dion then - Became his father, gave him life and wealth, - And that sweet breeding that till now did show - So fair in him. Ocrastes owes him all---- - - _Oc._ Ay, all! E'en wisdom. He would call me fool - Stayed I from market when thy richest self - Courts any passing bid. Since he must lose---- - - _Ara._ Nay, every touch will be a three-fold shame - Robbing a husband, benefactor, friend. - My eyes will mirror those reproachful days - When Dion's care was fond about us both. - His kisses guard my lips. His praise of you - Will block your words in my assaulted ears. - - _Oc._ You know me not. My words shall be love's fire - Burning the track of Dion's pale discourse. - My kisses on your lips hold festal war - With his till they, poor ghosts, shall flee. And dews - Of happiness shall wash all pictures out - From your fair eyes but my enthron�d own - Which hourly I'll new-set in their fair glass! - - _Ara._ I called you brother!... O, my lords, I beg-- - Some one of you--to take me for--your--wife. - - [_Faints. Ocrastes supports her. Curtain._] - - - - -ACT III - - SCENE 1. _A chamber in the palace. Nauresta on bed asleep. - Phillistus watching._ - - - _Phil._ This poison's swift. Here is her cup. Why palter? - A drop will do it. [_Gazes at her_] - 'Tis when we sleep the touch - Of life is gentlest. Even affliction's kiss - Falls like a rose upon the sense-shut lid. - Then he most miserable is as the happy, - And who so happy that is not then more blest? - And since that death is sleep's eternal sum, - Why should I pause, nor grant this precious good? - O, I could moralize me to a god - Who holds the cup of bliss for lip beloved. - Nauresta, drink, and in this little drop - Sip everlasting ease. [_Pours poison_] - 'Tis done. I've reached - From mortal shores and opened Hades' gate. - Ay, with the gesture of a hand have hooked - Eternity. - - _Nau._ [_Waking_] Phillistus, you? - - _Phil._ 'Tis I, - Beloved Nauresta. - - _Nau._ Flowers! You have brought them? - - _Phil._ Can I forget you love them? - - _Nau._ Ah, my friends! - They wear no frown to dash down hearts; nor chide - When ears are sick for quickening praise; but yield - Their royal payment for each passing care; - No vagrant dew gives them its moistening heart - But they must pay it thrice in perfumed beauty, - And bury it as never king shall lie. - O human faces, might ye turn to flowers, - How many broken hearts would live again! - - _Phil._ This is a covert chiding of my faults, - So deep repented, love. I'll make thee happy. - - _Nau._ My gentle daughter--she that I could call - A sister to this rose--her mute complaints - Cry like dumb, wounded birds to my sore heart, - And I pass by nor help. For what, Phillistus? - That you may wear a crown in Syracuse. - A crown that is the golden nest of cares, - Brooded by every dismal wing may hatch - An enemy to peace. - - _Phil._ And when didst grow - So wise, Nauresta? - - _Nau._ Midnight hours teach well. - Some sleepless nights would help you too, I think. - Wise? Ay, and not too late! I'll be no more - Your shield while you make thrust at brave Ocrastes. - I'll give him my Theano. - - _Phil._ Does he know? - - _Nau._ Not yet. I weakly thought to pay old love - The grace of first confession. - - _Phil._ [_Kissing her hand_] Thanks for that. - This sudden turning of a heart long loyal - Has left me numb. You know how dear my purpose - That she should wed a lord of my own faction. - Give me an hour, but one, before you speak. - You break the bough that held my care-built nest, - And old wings go not blithely after straw. - - _Nau._ They've learned to wait, and who would count an hour - Before the long day of unbroken love? - ... I'm weary now, Phillistus. - - _Phil._ Rest thee, sweet. [_She sleeps_] - Ah, not too soon I spiced her cup. The way - Grows perilous, and I must mount with care - To my high seat, lest I should rise to fall; - For though the path to crowns be long and slant, - There's no way down but by a precipice. - - [_Enter Theano bearing an urn which she places on table by cup_] - - _The._ You're faithful, sir. [_Bends over Nauresta_] - Her brow is calm again. - - _Phil._ Now were I ill 'twould quickly make me well - To have so fair a face above my bed. - - _The._ Hear, my lord, you'd die ere mine should be there! - - _Phil._ Surely 'tis no offence to call you fair. - - _The._ Beauty lives not upon your commendation, - Nor with your silence dies. Spare me, my lord, - The cymbal clap of words that add no jot - To fairness. - - _Phil._ Pardon me, dear girl. I was - Your father's friend---- - - _The._ I strive not to forget it. - - _Phil._ And could I have your love---- - - _The._ All that is good - In you I love. Now thou'st the measure, sir, - For my affection. Is it small enough? - - _Phil._ By heaven, you do not mince it! - - _Nau._ [_Waking_] Is that my daughter? - - _The._ See, mother, I have brought this drink for you. - - [_Pours beverage into cup and offers to Nauresta_] - - There's health in 't. Is there not, Phillistus? - - _Phil._ Ay, - Health and long life. [_Nauresta drinks_] - - _Nau._ There's virtue in the cup. - Even now I'm better. - - _The._ Now? - - _Nau._ O, I could rise! - - [_Sits up_] - - _The._ No, dear. Be patient yet. - - _Nau._ Nay, I'll be up! - Pray call Methone, love, to dress me.... Ah, - Whence comes this lighter heart? How good to have it! - I feel like a new-pardoned prisoner - Tasting the air. Smile, sweet! Those lily lids - Shall droop no more with woe I lay upon them. - - [_Enter Methone with robes_] - - Now, now, Methone, make me young again. - O, not that robe! Tis for a grandame that. - My sky-gray mantle with its falling softness - Broidered like sunset clouds! - - [_Exit Methone_] - - _The._ I beg you, sweet---- - - _Nau._ Wilt smooth my hair? Nay, let it be as 'tis. - This way. Ah--now--[_Falls back_] O! Help me! Help; - Let go, ye furies! - - _The._ Mother! - - _Meth._ [_Entering_] Mistress! mistress! - - _Nau._ 'Tis poison! poison! I am murdered. O! - My daughter--tell her--tell her--ah--Ocrastes----[_Dies_] - - _The._ Have mercy, Heaven! O, Phillistus, help her! - - [_Faints. Phillistus holds her_] - - _Phil._ [_To Methone_] Go call your comrades here. - - [_Exit Methone_] - - Even now you're mine. - Ocrastes! Ha! Her last word was his name. - I'll turn this crook of fortune to account, - And make a god of accident. - - _The._ [_Reviving_] O! O! - Misfortune makes my heart her sanctuary. - So many woes take shelter there. - - _Phil._ One woe - You have escaped. Ocrastes' wicked love. - O villainous! I dare not think of it! - That he would poison one so dear to you---- - - _The._ Man, man, care for your soul! There is no stain - So black as when the gall of calumny - Breaks on the snow of virtue! You must rate - Your precious life at naught. Ocrastes, sir, - Will have your slanderous heart for this! - - _Phil._ He may, - If 'tis your wish. You heard her cry his name - As though she saw her murderer. - - _The._ She cried-- - Ah, yes--I heard-- What did she mean? - - _Phil._ The truth. - - _The._ Make me not mad!--He's never entered here. - - _Phil._ Why should he when a little gold will buy - A hand for any deed? - - _The._ The gold--the gold - He gave to Brentio! Dear Juno, help! - My mind strays from me. - - _Phil._ Hast not found him changed? - Full of quick passions--contradictions--words - Of broken point? Seen shadows on his face - As though his mind were brooding darker matter - Than could be kept within 't? Bethink thee well, - For memory's eye reflective oft repeals - The confirmation of the grosser sight, - And what so pleased the entertain�d sense - Shows in her studied glass a fearful front. - - _The._ O, stop thy tongue of death! My promise to him-- - So strangely asked--so strangely given! O!---- - - _Phil._ Thy mother's word---- - - _The._ O, let me die, die, die! - - _Phil._ My girl, all things that be may be endured. - Death does not come for this or that affliction, - But when 'tis time to knock. Up, sweet Theano! - By fortune's rudder, wheel and horn of bounty, - You shall rise fair above this foul mischance! - - [_Re-enter Methone_] - - _Meth._ My lady, lord Ocrastes begs to see you. - - _The._ No, no! Not now. - - _Phil._ Ay, see him now, Theano. - Show him the burden of this bed, nor let - The damn�d simulation of his eye - Deceive you. Bravely tell him to his face - None better knows the gate she came by death. - - _The._ You lie!... And yet I can not see him now. - Though he is innocent, my wicked promise - Burns like accusing fire by this dear form. - - _Meth._ Mistress, he comes! - - _Phil._ I'll leave you with him. Courage! - - [_Phillistus retreats to curtains, left. Enter Ocrastes_] - - _The._ You dare come here? - - _Oc._ I dare? - - _The._ O, see, Ocrastes, - What lieth here! The shell of what even now - Was she who gave me birth. - - _Oc._ Not dead? Ah, love! - - _The._ Call me not love! Not here--and now. O, go! - - _Oc._ Theano! - - _The._ Touch me not! My doubt will make - Your hand a thing of fire! - - _Oc._ Dear heart, fend off - This sea of woe or 'twill sweep reason with it. - I could be wild with strange things that I know, - And came to tell you of, but for your sake - I'm calm. - - _The._ Dost know, sir, she was poisoned? - - _Oc._ Poisoned? - Forgive me, love. Be mad now as thou wilt, - Still thy distraction will be stinted measure - For grief so dark. Poisoned! O, who---- - - _The._ Who? Who? - That is the question thrusts me like a sword. - All loved her--all. She had no enemy. - - _Oc._ [_Calmly_] You spoke of doubt. What did you mean, Theano? - - _The._ Leave me, Ocrastes! Go! - - _Oc._ Phillistus---- - - _The._ No! - He loved her well. That was his touch of Heaven. - O, who had cause but---- - - _Oc._ Do not say it. I go. - Not deity descending from the skies - To make our peace could now unite us. Ay, - Thou 'rt dead to me as that cold body. - - _The._ Oh-h! [_Swoons_] - - _Oc._ And in that bosom did I come to set - A purpose I'd not whisper now to death - Lest his dumb lips should tattle. Alone--alone, - To grapple in the dark the beast of chance! - ... Affection on my track shall ache to death, - Friendship in blood lie mute, and love I'll tear - From its high heaven to plunge like Ate's coals - On Pluto's fire! [_Exit_] - - _Phil._ [_Comes forward and revives Theano_] - Sweet girl, he's gone. - - _The._ [_Rising_] Where is he? - - _Phil._ He'll trouble thee no more. - - _The._ Heat me the irons! - This tongue shall be burnt out that dared accuse him! - - _Phil._ She's mad indeed! - - _The._ Nay, sir, the cloud of pitch - That blinded me is gone. [_Enter maids_] Touch her not yet. - [_Maids stand aside_] - Methone, hasten Brentio to find - The noblest lord in Syracuse. - - _Meth._ Who, mistress? - - _The._ Who but Ocrastes? Go! - - _Phil._ [_Approaching her_] Theano---- - - _The._ Sir. - We have no need of you. I pray you, go. [_Kneels by bed_] - He will forgive, then I will die with thee! - - _Phil._ Nay, by the gods, should you so die, my maid, - Then Sicil' will have groaning cause 'gainst one - Who robs her country to make rich her grave. - Immortal Beauty must herself go wronged - Should you so break her living mould in you, - And drain her veins to your fair body trusted - For warm and deathless passage. - - _The._ [_Springing up_] Are you man - Or monster that you foul this hour with thought - So gross? - - _Phil._ A man--no more, no less--who loves - Your mother's daughter. Hate me as you will, - I here adopt your grief,--with oath and tear - Take it to love as my own child of woe, - And swear you faith to death. - - _The._ The gods, my lord. - Record not oaths of men till they've received - The confirmation of an act. I'll wait - Their seal on yours. - - _Phil._ This night---- - - _The._ Sir, will you go? - Stay not to rouse Ocrastes' rage. - - _Phil._ You think - He'll come? - - _The._ I've sent for him. - - _Phil._ You're proudly sure. - Will coo your loves by this forbidding bed? - - _The._ Ay, for her hovering shade knows now the truth. - - [_Enter Heraclides_] - - _Her._ Pardon, my lord, that I have sought you out. - The hour like an unbridled courser needs - Strong hands upon it. Ah,--death here? - - _Phil._ There lies - Delay's excuse,--and yet 'tis none, for woe - Whose feast is but a heart should lift no head - Beside the large calamity that makes - A morsel of a state. How goes our matter? - - _Her._ Aristocles is locked within the castle, - In care of Dionysius' guards. - - _Phil._ Ah, then - He's safe. - - _Her._ As safe as we could wish, my lord. - And I've yet fresher news. Ocrastes joins us, - With wealth and courage like an Atlas back - To bear our venture. - - _Phil._ He revolts from Dion? - Ocrastes? - - _Her._ He, my lord. - - _Phil._ What works this change? - - _Her._ A lady's morning cheek and golden hair. - He now is wed to absent Dion's wife. - - _Phil._ What say you, sir? - - _Her._ The lords were in debate - Of who should have her, when out comes Ocrastes, - And cries his claim with such o'er-riding proof - That Dionysius claps a quick assent - And all the court confirm him sullenly. - Ocrastes goes to Italy for troops - To meet the force which Dion brings from Greece---- - - _Phil._ But this new marriage! Tell us more. Belike - I've missed some sport. - - _Her._ Sport? Ha! It was a scene. - - _Phil._ But went the lady to him willingly? - - _Her._ O, she was modest, played chameleon - And chang�d color rhythmically, as though - A music of sweet shades sat on her cheek, - Then coyly swooned, but her reviving eye, - Methinks, looked kindly on his youthful beauty. - - _Phil._ [_Watching Theano_] And the young lord? Did not - his countenance - Play hers a blushing match? - - _Her._ Ay, shame and will - Mapped out his face between 'em, but short met - In love's red constancy. - - _The._ O! O! - - _Her._ Once more - The lady fainted, but 'twas in his arms. - Ha, ha! - - _The._ And yet I live! - - _Phil._ How long, my lord, - Since this bold comedy? - - _Her._ 'Tis now two hours - Behind us. - - _Phil._ [_To Theano_] Ah, before he came to you! - What shameless shame! - - _The._ He loved me! How--O, why? - - _Phil._ Nay, ask not why. As well essay to trace - The legend that the soft and curling foam - Writes on the shaken wave as fix love's path - With steady eye or his vagaries mark. - Farewell an hour. I'll come again to-night - To serve your grief. You'll learn at last to trust me, - And in my heart seek comfort. - - [_Exeunt Phillistus and Heraclides_] - - _The._ Oh, oh, oh! - He does not love her. Would he did! I then - Might honor him that dared dishonor truth - For love's almighty sake,--but 'twas to save - His life. Ah, me, his life that sav�d thus - Abates all value and becomes as clay. - - _Meth._ Sweet mistress! - - _The._ O, O me! - - _Meth._ Stay this hot flood. - Tears bring no lover back. Ay, not though maids - Should weep until their cheeks were but a mead - For two salt brooks to play. - - _The._ O, leave me! - - _Meth._ Nay---- - - _The._ Leave me, I say! Away! [_Exit Methone_] - O death! O life!-- - Which wears the darker face? Here is my choice. - - [_Falls by Nauresta's body_] - - [_Curtain_] - - - SCENE 2. _A bare room in the castle fort. Aristocles alone._ - - _Aris._ They said a bed would be provided me, - But nothing's here. And nothing's all he needs, - Who holds himself a soul stripped of the world - And its necessities. [_Lies down_] - That fellow took - My cloak. Good luck to him. Philosophy, - Thou art the only sail no wind may drive - Into misfortune's port. How still the world! - The silence like a great Accuser stares, - Full of dumb curses looking from large eyes. - - [_Rises and walks_] - - ... I will not see her more. O, quickly come, - Ye stoic angels wont to wait on me, - And with the cords of resolution stout - Bind ye my purpose to the throne of Zeus - That it may shake but with Olympus' self! - ... Will she not think me harsh to leave her so? - She who is made of all earth's gentle things-- - The scent of morn, the first green on the bough, - The valley dews where infant blossoms drink, - The going light with rose heart yearning back,-- - Yet brave, and like a new Hippolita - Might wear the belt of Mars. O, flower of heaven, - Yet wrapped in soft and strange delirium - Of odors once Elysian! Naught to me, - Who will not see her more. Now is she dead, - And I know but a grave. I'll sleep ... sleep ... sleep. - - [_Lies still. Enter Aratea. She is veiled, and her unbound hair - falls about her form_] - - _Ara._ [_Drawing inner bolt to door_] I scarce could bribe - the guard to let me pass! - - [_Looks about room and sees Aristocles_] - - Asleep? [_Crosses to him. Unveils_] Rise, friend! - - _Aris._ [_Starting_] My dream. - - _Ara._ Aristocles! - - _Aris._ [_Rising_] You? you? - - _Ara._ I, friend. - - _Aris._ 'Tis you--and yet 'tis not. - A stranger soul, disordered and unknown, - Looks from your eyes. - - _Ara._ My brother's false to thee. - This castle's murder's trap, and you are caught in 't! - - _Aris._ I've had some thought 'twas so. I die to-night? - - _Ara._ No, no! dear Heaven! See! - [_Opens door, left_] This inner room. - It has a hidden stairway to the sea - Where waits a boat will bear you to a sail - New-spread for Greece, with crew that know the wave - As though begot of mermaids. - - _Aris._ No! To make - Presumptuous end of life is an offence - To Heaven, but gracious gods may offer death - For honorable choice--as they do now-- - And here I choose it. - - _Ara._ Thy choice then must be mine. - My hope was you would fly and hasten Dion - To my deliverance. For I am sold. - The cords of bondage cut in very flesh. - But ask not now of this. This letter here - Will tell my lord what I have spared you. Go, - Or I've no hope, and then--by this bright blade-- - [_showing a dagger_] - I die. - - _Aris._ Ah, what you will! Command me. - - _Ara._ [_Moving left_] Come! - Into this chamber! - - [_Exeunt, and in a moment re-enter_] - - O, the door new-sealed! - Apollo help us now!... Did you not see - The narrow window in that chamber? - - _Aris._ Ay, - The stars looked on us as we passed, as though - They smiled to see how man would measure time - With periods clept death. - - _Ara._ [_Fearfully_] If you--could leap---- - - _Aris._ I will. - - _Ara._ Tis not far down--but O, the rocks - Jut up like monsters. No! You shall not do it. - 'Twere death with treble pain. - - _Aris._ Then I'll die here. - To go from your fair presence to the gods - Is hardly change. - - _Ara._ 'Twould change the world that lost thee. - Then would this isle uncrown herself of joy, - And palsying shake beauty from her lap. - The flowers would die in pain, and every leaf - Fast wither, fade and fall, as those that moan - O'er Thracian Phyllis' grave. I will not stay - Without my friend. Ah no, 'twould not be life. - - _Aris._ The longest days are breaths, quick-drawn and short, - The longest life a day to be forgot. - Thou soon wouldst come. - - _Ara._ I could not find the way. - 'Tis with your eyes, not mine, I catch the light - Unalterable upon immortal brows - And keep my course. - - _Aris._ Nay, thou'st no need of guide. - Shine out, bright soul, and dim thy troubling stars. - - _Ara._ [_Turns aside, weeping_] You do not know! - - _Aris._ Be true unto the calm - Of Heaven in you set. Who trust to aught - That's of their souls externe but give themselves - As feathers to the wind. - - _Ara._ [_Slowly_] My lord, this night, - By Dionysius' force, my hand was given - In marriage to Ocrastes. Dost thou hear? - Ocrastes sails this hour for Italy. - Ere he returns---- - - _Aris._ Thou'st whirled away my soul! - O stroke of Dis! O faithless Heaven! He? - Not he! Such mid-hell treachery is out - Of mortal meaning! - - _Ara._ He is mad, I think. - He loves me not. - - _Aris._ I'd sport a madman too! - Wear lunacy as doth a king his purple, - If that would draw a goddess from the skies - To quiet in my arms! Did it not strain - Forbearance to the snap that Dion--whose wisdom - Humbles the mouth of Zeus--whose justice is - The boast of shades when Rhadamanthus blunders-- - Should wear the chiefest pearl to mortals cast-- - Sweet Beauty's sole extravagance--as 'twere - A something to be stained with human love - And gods not question it? Who then could see - It made the common booty of a thief, - Nor break the cable of a mind controlled - And lose the shore of reason? Who? - - _Ara._ [_Kneeling_] Be calm - If thou wouldst help me. - - _Aris._ [_Not heeding_] Pity, weep, weep, weep! - O, from thy woeful heaven cast a dew - As universal as the East when she - To every herb throws pearls! - - _Ara._ [_Leaping up_] The guards! They come! - But I go with thee, sir. 'Tis not farewell. - - _Aris._ [_Calm_] Not you. I die because Elysian mates - Now summon me. No need excuses there - The guest intrusive. Stay thee for thy call, - Nor but to save an hour of painful breath - Cut ever off the never ending day - We two shall walk the clouds too happy e'en - To love. Give me that hope, and dying now - I live. Deny it, and 'tis you, not swords, - That wound. They slay poor flesh, that gauzy breath - Sole guards from wormy ravage. You would strike - My never-healing soul! Those steps of doom---- - - _Ara._ Hark! Ah--they pass! Dear gods, is there no way? - - _Aris._ The window. - - _Ara._ No! - - _Aris._ I'll make the leap and live - To set you free! - - _Ara._ No, no! The rocks would gash - More cruelly than swords. Wait--O! Blest Heaven! - Thou 'rt saved! Wait here! - - [_Runs into inner room_] - - _Aris._ Go, spirit beautiful! - Her hair enrobes her like a parted cloud - That opes to show us Heaven.... Give now my flesh - To swords, ye gods, but save me from the death - That has no end!... - - [_Re-enter Aratea, shorn of her locks, which she lays at - Aristocles' feet. Her veil is draped about her, concealing her - loss_] - - O! Maimed, my goddess? - - _Ara._ See? - I knew you'd say me nay. But now 'tis done. - - _Aris._ Those locks of Venus' gold. - - _Ara._ The dagger served. - - _Aris._ Too well! - - _Ara._ [_Weaving the locks_] Not so. Now, now a rope to bridge - Eternity for thee! More strands! Lend me - Your lightnings, blessed skies, to weave this chain! - - _Aris._ Your flying fingers need them not. - - _Ara._ More, more! - A thousand hairs, they say, will hold a man. - - _Aris._ Ay, one will do it. - - _Ara._ Merry, my lord? Why not? - Apollo, smile upon us! I know we dream. - See how I make this fast? It is your life - I lengthen. - - _Aris._ O, 'tis bought too preciously! - [_Takes up a lock and kisses it_] - What waste of sun and gold! - - _Ara._ Nay, when you're safe, - I'll cast it to fair Venus on the sea, - A votive offering. Look now! 'Tis done. - - _Aris._ So soon? - - _Ara._ And you must go. - - _Aris._ Art sure 'tis done? - - _Ara._ Afraid, my lord? - - _Aris._ Afraid! - - _Ara._ You see 'tis finished. - - _Aris._ Ay, 'tis. - - _Ara._ The window--come! We'll make this fast-- - And then--farewell! - - _Aris._ Till I return with Dion. - - _Ara._ Return? No, no, my lord! O, come no more - To this cursed land. Be happy in thy Athens. - And Plenty bless thee as thou wert her child, - Swelling thy measure till prosperity - Hang on thy look like fruit invisible - Dropping to whom thou wilt. - - _Aris._ And you--and you-- - My heart is dumb. What gods wish for themselves - Become a human fortune and befall thee! - - [_Exeunt. Guards approach and beat door. Re-enter Aratea_] - - _Ara._ Strike, dogs! Some say Apollo fathered him. - O, god of melody, guard thou the life - That beats a perfect song! - - [_Door falls and Domenes enters with guards_] - - _Dom._ What! Who is this? - - _Ara._ A princess, sir. - - _Dom._ Where is the prisoner? - - _Ara._ He's gone. - - _Dom._ Gone! How? Where? - - _Ara._ Did not Zeus himself - Steal Ganymede? Why not Aristocles? - - [_Curtain_] - - - - -ACT IV - - SCENE: _The grove of Ceres on the right, a temple partly visible. - The island of Ortygia in rear, separated from mainland by a very - narrow channel with wall on the Ortygian side running off stage - left, to channel bridge where the ensuing conflict is supposed to - centre. The island extends down to the Lesser Harbor, centre rear, - which widens to a sea-glimpse at right. On the island shore in - the farthest distance is outlined the temple of Artemis. Part of - the Ortygian castle is shown on an island, left, the lower part - concealed by channel wall._ - - - _At extreme left, front, the entrance to Phillistus' dwelling is - seen. Between dwelling and channel a road leads toward the bridge. - At front of stage a road runs left toward the Greater Harbor, and - right toward Epipolai, the outermost portion of the city._ - - _On the right, toward rear, terraces lead up to the heights of - Achridina. Various statues are seen, the largest being a Victory - at entrance to grove. Off the stage, left front, over Greater - Harbor, the sun is setting, throwing gradually softening tints and - increasing shadows._ - - _Troops of soldiers, laughing and talking with citizens in holiday - costume, come up the road from the Greater Harbor and pass off - toward Epipolai. Speusippus, Ascander, and Timoleon, enter from - grove and stand near the Victory. At right front enter young men - arrayed for banqueting, bearing wreaths, torches, etc. They turn - to rear and pass up terraces toward Achridina, singing._ - - O, pleasure is the wing of Time, - Care his limping, leaden foot! - Too late, too late, for laugh and rhyme - When old Winter's at the root - Of desire, - And no fire - Can thaw the frost where we lie mute. - - Then come all and feast ye now! - Come catch Love, the pretty rover! - Not a maiden bind her brow - With a rose unkissed by lover! - As a flower - Is Cupid's hour, - And where he flies none can discover. - - [_Exeunt toward the heights of Achridina_] - - _Timolean._ So turns our war into a holiday. - Here Dion lands, and swift the tyrant flies - With all his boasted guard into the castle, - While Syracuse throws open gate and arms - To welcome her besieger. - - _Ascander._ By Artemis! - Didst see him marching in?--Calippus on - One side, Aristocles on t'other--their corselets white - Fair shining in the sun, and each with locks - Bright garlanded?--close treading them the guards-- - The hundred Grecian guards that watch by Dion, - Then all his men in battle order placed? - - _Tim._ But when his trumpeter blew from the gate, - And all the people upward looked in silence - While he declared them subjects but of Heaven, - No wonder that each eye turned fount and flowed. - - _Asc._ Then 'twas the wet cheek marked the noble heart, - And the unwatered eye was shame. - - _Tim._ And now - His soldiers rove throughout the city, while - The people lean from walls like branching trees - And shake a crop of blessings. - - _Asc._ Kisses too! - E'en in the streets the women set their tables, - And from their wreath�d urns pour Cretan wine - For Dion's men. - - _Tim._ What says my lord Speusippus? - The only sour-face in all Syracuse. - - _Speu._ And cause enough. A pretty soldier, sir, - Who'd choose to march with flowers in his hand - Like smirking virgin on Diana's day! - I thought the tyrant would show tooth of war - And not turn tail and kennel. - - _Tim._ [_Starting_] What noise is that? - It cuts the air unlike a feasting cry. - - _Speu._ By Mars, I pray our swords will yet have airing, - And good fresh drink too! - - _Tim._ Here's a man, Ascander. - He courts dame Trouble as she were his wench. - - _Speu._ Tut, tut, my friends, I've but a soldier's relish - For an honest fight. What's there to fear? Besides, - I have a trick to dodge misfortune's blows. - - _Tim._ What's that, Speusippus? - - _Speu._ Why, if breaks my cup, - I think what now an it had been my vase - From Phelas' shop? I break my vase, and straight - I cry ho! ho! now had my house been burnt - That were a woe! But burns my house indeed, - I think of wife and child who perished not; - When dies my wife or son, I thank the gods - That Death crept all so near and touched not me. - And when his certain hour to clutch me comes - I'll think of famines, plagues, of earthquakes, floods, - And nations swept away. And still I'll cure - Such broad affliction with the thought of how - The Universe itself is but a shell - To crackle when it please the hand that made it. - So, friends, I mend each woe with its own cloth - Till all looks well again. - - _Tim._ Ay, but the patch - Is greater than the garment. - - [_Enter Calippus, hurrying_] - - _Speu._ Ho, Calippus! - - _Cal._ Hail, friends! But stay me not. I run to join - The general without the city gates. - - _Asc._ What? Dion? - - _Cal._ Ay! - - _Tim._ Without the gates? - - _Cal._ 'Tis so. - Phillistus and the admiral have seized - Excitement's topping hour to turn all hearts - With fear's mad eloquence,--saying that Dion - Comes to avenge his wrongs and set up rule - More cruel than Dionysius dared. And so - This gay and garlanded humanity - Troop to these traitors, while lord Dion camps - Without the city. - - _Speu._ Gods! Did he go mildly? - By Erebus' black daughter, I'd have turned - And beat them to subjection. Not a blow? - - _Cal._ He came to lift their yoke, not add another, - And struck to heart with their ingratitude - Gave them their choice, nor made warlike retort - Beyond to warn them, with his finger lifted - To yonder frowning castle, that the tyrant - Was bayed, not conquered. - - _Tim._ Conquered? No! - The city never knew a woe till now. - - _Speu._ Ay, Syracuse should with one general bray - Cry ass to Heaven. O, mullets of Abdera, - Would ye be kings, come reign in Sicily! - - _Asc._ Phillistus has no force to meet the foe - Will belch from that black fort. - - _Speu._ Haste, friends, to Dion! - - _Cal._ You'll go? - - _Speu._ What else? There'll be some good play yet. - Bray, Syracuse, thou populated ass! - - [_Exeunt. The sunlight fades into twilight, and the full moon - rises, right, rear, where the Lesser Harbor widens to the sea. - Theano comes out of Phillistus' house and places fresh verbenas on - the entrance altar. An Amazon follows her_] - - _The._ Though gods forget me I'll remember them. - [_Sees the Amazon_] Stand back! I'll not be dogged! - - [_The Amazon advances, folds her arms and takes station near - Theano, who turns wearily from her and looks out upon the scene_] - - Well for this earth - That Beauty keeps her court for gods not men, - Nor clouds for mortal mourning! O, fair city, - And fairer night, how strange and cold your smile - Upon my heart!... The slave is gone. That means - Phillistus comes. - - [_Phillistus enters opposite and stands in shadow, gazing at - Theano_] - - _Phil._ I've little hope to cheat her more. Her eyes - Are at the windows of my heart and read - Each dark recess. Well, let love go if 't must. - The joys of hate are no less deep,--and she - Is mine! [_Approaches_] Theano? I am here. - - _The._ I see. - - _Phil._ My day of days has come! One kiss to crown it. - Art still unkind? Ah, sweet, where is the smile - Should dress thee in a fairer light than gilds - The crystal Thetis when Hyperion woos? - What! not a kiss. - - _The._ This statue's sculptured lips - Are warmer, sir. - - _Phil._ To me! - - _The._ Though on your brow - Yon Victory should drop her high-held wreath - You'd be no more nor less than now. Who wears - The unseen chaplet given of spirit hands - To him whose soul is virtue, needeth not - Ambition's leafy handful that oft makes - The mortal brow vaunt as it grew the trees - Of all Olympus. - - _Phil._ What a welcome here - For Sicily's new king! Know, my Theano, - That Dionysius is to castle beaten, - And treacherous Dion from the city thrust, - While Heraclides with me shares the power - Soon to be mine alone, for his fall, too, - Already is assured. - - _The._ Then thou hast topped - The very summit of thy bold desire. - - _Phil._ True! Aspiration now, lit like a lark - On Fortune's steeple, sings above all hazard. - My loved Theano, thou 'rt queen of Syracuse; - We'll sleep to-night like happy royalty - In honor's bed. - - _The._ The stone of Sisyphus - Will gather moss ere that may be, Phillistus. - You gave the safety of your stable house - To my bewildered grief. 'Twas noble, sir, - Though mine was woe would make a lion sheathe - His hungry claws and pass on softest foot. - But not for gold or throne will I be yours. - Not for all sapphires that have kissed in crowns, - All rubies that in deepest caves make day, - Would I be wife to you, or take your hand - Though to be plucked into Elysium! - - _Phil._ So? By the fires of Dis, I'll end this play! - Dost think me your poor slave to sweat for naught? - An ass to bear your pack for chaff and straw? - - _The._ My lord? - - _Phil._ Did I risk all to play the nurse - Unto your tedious grief for a false lover? - All Syracuse knows you his fool, and yet - You'd play Penelope, and hope to sit - With tears of twenty years upon your cheeks! - O stare and wonder, gasp, and sir! and ho! - Weep if you will, and pray your baby prayers. - I've done with ah's and oh's and niceties! - - _The._ O now this monster shows its head! - - _Phil._ Go in!... - Wilt have me call the slave? - - _The._ Beware, Phillistus! - - _Phil._ Of what, or whom? - - _The._ Of Heaven, sir! - - _Phil._ Ha! ha! - What powers there owe not their reign to man? - The mind at holiday makes gods for sport - And gives them us for masters. When I'm crowned - I'll banish all these idle, meddling wits, - These boggy brains that spring with toadstool thrones - Decked with a deity. - - _The._ And yet the gods - Now hear thee! - - _Phil._ Say they do, love rules 'mong gods - As men. Doubt not they'll wink at my warm suit. - - _The._ O, thy black soul will be the scorn of devils - When hell has claimed thee! - - _Phil._ Know me blacker still! - Since hate must be the bond between our hearts, - I'll burn this into thine--thy father's death - Was by my hand made sure, that I might woo - Your foolish mother, who drank in turn my cup. - Yet shall I wear the blossom of your love - Fair on my bosom, and the fruit shall grow - To propagate my house. So silent, madam? - Is not this news? You would not coo for me; - May I not hear you rave? - - _The._ Who, who could speak? - Now swirling harpies pluck away my soul, - And leave me here a shell that yet can breathe! - - _Phil._ Ah, you shall breathe and live for me--for me! - - _The._ O lust, whose sovereign heel treads life - As destiny had given bond and stamp for 't! - - _Phil._ Ay, my desire would charter hell for breath - And blow her fires to desolate the world - Ere lose thee now! - - [_Enter a messenger from the bridge road_] - - _Mess._ Sir, Heraclides begs your instant aid! - The castled enemy have darted forth---- - - _Phil._ How? Where? - - _Mess._ Behind the wall--across the bridge! - Like adder's tongue they've struck the sleeping city. - Now Heraclides calls for men to guard - The channel crossing. - - _Phil._ Say I'll join him there. - At once! Away! - - [_Exit messenger_] - - _Phil._ [_Calls_] Ragunda! Amazon! - [_Ragunda comes out of Phillistus' house_] - Take in your charge, and keep a closer watch. - Your life, as hers, is short or long. - [_To Theano_] In, madam! - - _The._ Here dies my faith. O chance-made world, upheaved - By Demiurgus turning in his sleep! - - [_Goes in with Ragunda. Enter second messenger_] - - _Mess._ O, sir---- - - _Phil._ Pray put your periods after news, - Not 'fore. - - _Mess._ My lord, the tyrant's guards have made - A second murderous sally from the castle, - And with great brands of flame have fired the city! - Now Dionysius, knowing he must forego - The tyranny, would utterly destroy us, - And wipe from earthly chronicle the name - Of Syracuse! - - _Phil._ I'll come ... when I have turned - A bolt within. [_Goes in_] - - [_Enter third messenger_] - - _Third mess._ Where is Phillistus? - - _Second mess._ [_Pointing to house_] There. - - _Third mess._ The people rage against him, and have sent - Again to Dion, praying his return. - - [_Re-enter Phillistus_] - - _Phil._ Dion! He'll come. Then farewell crown and life! - Where, men? - - _Third mess._ The fight is hardest where the wall - Runs to the channel. - - _Phil._ On! That is the place. - - [_Exeunt toward bridge. The sky darkens, clouding the moon. On the - road from the Greater Harbor enter men, women, and children, who - run about confusedly in the darkness_] - - _First voice._ Where is the lord Phillistus? - - _Second voice._ Heraclides is wounded. - - _Third voice._ Dogs! They brought this hell on us! - - _Voices shrieking._ The guards! The guards! - - [_Soldiers of Dionysius rush on, road left, front, carrying brands - which they cast about. They seize the people and put all to the - sword_] - - _Soldiers._ To Achridina! To the heights! Burn all! - - [_Exeunt, right, rear, scattering brands, one of which lights the - temple of Ceres seen through the trees, left. Enter citizens, - left, front. They carry arms. Burning brands reveal the dead_] - - _First citizen._ See, friends! Here lie our pictures as we'll be - A moment hence. - - _Second cit._ No hope now but in Dion! - - _Third cit._ [_As Dracon enters_] Dracon! - - _Dracon._ All lost--all lost. Put up your swords. - The Carthaginian fleet lies in the bay, - And by the sea-gate to the castle fort - Empties her men into the tyrant's hand! - - _Second cit._ O Syracuse! - - _Dracon._ And next upon this news - Phillistus and the admiral desert us, - Flying to Dionysius. - - _Voices._ Traitors! dogs! - - _Dracon._ And now though Dion should forgive our baseness---- - - _Voices._ He will! he will! - - _Dracon._ His force and ours united - Can not make stand against the strengthened foe. - - _Voices._ O woeful night! O bloody, bloody night! - - _Third cit._ Now sword and fire will make such havoc 'mong us - There'll not be breath enough in all the city - To say good-morrow to the sun. - - [_Cheers without, right, front. Enter a warrior at the head of - troops. He wears helmet and carries shield_] - - _Warrior._ Shame, shame! - O, Syracusans, shame! If ye be men, - Let battle take the garb of order, and death - Array itself in decency! I've brought - A band of noble Leontines to strike - With who shall prove no coward! Lift your swords - Till Victory sees them shining through the night - And knows which way to bend her doubtful wings! - On, on, my men! On, Syracusans, on! - - [_All go off left, cheering. Enter Gylippus, right, rear, wounded_] - - _Gylippus._ I'll drop me here till flame or steel o'er-take me. - [_Falls down_] - - _Menodes._ [_Entering_] Gylippus? Wounded? - - _Gy._ Deep enough. No matter. - Wounds are Bellona's favors. Do you bleed? - - _Men._ I lose an arm. 'Twas a warm kiss that took it. - - _Gy._ Hast seen the stranger and his Leontines? - He goes through fire as 'twere a pastime loved, - Shaking the burning timbers from his back - As they were flies. - - _Men._ Thrice has he formed - The citizens for charge, though night and flame - War on confusion's side. - - _Gy._ Ocrastes comes - With ships that treble all sent out from Carthage. - - _Men._ Then Dion to the rescue speedily, - Or Syracuse is ashes! [_Shouts without_] - - _Gy._ Dion! He's here! - Now Mercy cloister close, and stern Revenge, - Long patient, take the sword! - - _Men._ Ho, who are these? - - [_Enter the warrior in combat with Phillistus, left, rear_] - - _Gy._ The stranger with Phillistus! Here's my blow! - - [_Attempts to rise_] - - _Men._ No need! He falls! - - _Phil._ [_Down_] Your mercy! - - _Warrior._ Take it--death! - Thou single confine of all men's corruption, - Die--die--and poison ghosts in hell! - - [_Flames issue from Phillistus' house. Servants rush out, - shrieking_] - - _Phil._ [_Half rising and looking at the flames_] My house - In flames! Thanks, gods, for this! Proud mistress, burn - Behind your bars, and to your black remains - Be your Ocrastes welcome! - - _Warrior._ Aid me, Heaven! - - [_Rushes into house_] - - _Phil._ That voice--O traitor! He will save her! Ay - He'll tread through hell nor burn his feet! - I die now as they kiss! Ocrastes--O! - The rest I'll tell to gaunt and gibbering shades. - - [_Dies_] - - [_Curtain falls and rises upon the same scene in ruins, several - hours later. Wrecks smoulder in foreground, In rear the flames - from Achridina throw light on the untouched castle and island. - Noise of battle comes from left. Enter from bridge road Dion, - Panthus, Calippus, Aristocles, Speusippus, and others_] - - _Dion._ Thanks for my life. 'Twas bravely rescued, friends. - - _Cal._ My lord, you do us wrong so to expose the arm - That props our hope. - - _Dion._ Nay, not with me, Calippus, - The battle rests, but with the unknown warrior - Gods lend our fainting cause. Where'er he strikes - The gash�d enemy look on their wounds - And turn like death-met fear to seek a cover. - - _Aris._ Ay! Once he fell, but rose with such new might - He seemed like Mars who, tripped on Trojan field, - Uprising threw his shoulders 'gainst the clouds - And darkened heaven. - - _Panthus._ By Zeus, he'd dare to hale - Rhamnusia from her wing�d car and turn - Her gryphons to the winds! - - _Dion._ Back to his aid! - - _Pan._ Your wound, my lord. - - _Cal._ Give valor space to breathe. - There'll be brave puffing ere the wall is down. - The channel banks it close, but we may breach it. - - _Speu._ It must be done, and must, sir, captains may - In war. - - _Dion._ Then to it! We waste breath. - - _Pan._ Stay, sir! - We go--not you--for when our general bleeds - Each man afield bleeds with him. See, your wound! - By Thaumas' claw-foot maids, 'tis past a scratch! - - _Dion._ I feel not this--but O, fair Syracuse! - Rock in thy fiery cradle till the sea - Gets up to weep, and bending gods pour down - Remorseful tears to drown the reddening shame - That blushes o'er the moon and writes the name - Of hell upon the stars! - - [_A sudden burst of noise and flame from the heights - of Achridina_] - - Art gone, my city?... - Ah, fallen Dionysius, must thou - Lose all, then cast thy soul to swell the loss? - It is thy kingly reputation burns, - With all that thou mightst own in fair Elysium! - - [_Shouting, left_] - - _Speu._ The wall! the wall! They charge! - - _Pan._ The stranger leads! - Ho, come, Speusippus! - - _Dion._ On! on, on, my friends! - - [_Exeunt, left. The flames from Achridina die down. Semi-darkness. - Men enter and creep about the blackened ruins. Soft light in the - East_] - - _First man._ Now Ceres mend our bones! Will 't e'er be light? - - _Second man._ Ay, yonder winks the dawn. - - _First man._ This blindfold war - Is Horror past familiar--her leper cheek - Bowsing both cheeks like mistress privileged. - - _Third man._ Gods keep us! Many a man has died this night - Upon his dear friend's sword. The treacherous torch - And threatening glare of flames too oft betrayed - The panic-glaz�d eye. - - [_Domenes rushes on from left. Speusippus following_] - - _First man._ Domenes? - - _Second man._ Ay, - The captain of the tyrant's guards. The Greek - Is on him! - - _Third man._ Down! - - _Dom._ Spare me! I'll give you news! - - _Speu._ Live while your tongue wags. Speak! What of the fleet - From Italy? - - _Dom._ All lost but one poor sail - That brings the desperate news. The tyrant mad - With this is bound for flight with what is left - Of Carthage. - - _Speu._ Ah, Ocrastes dead? - - _Dom._ Drowned, sir. - - _Speu._ And Dion's wife? - - _Dom._ She's in the castle--safe. - - _Speu._ And flies with Dionysius? Speak, man! - - _Dom._ She begs to stay, but he may force her off. - - _Speu._ Then we must stop this play and take the castle! - Drag off! You're past all harm. [_Going off, left_] Now - one charge more! [_Exit_] - - [_Light breaks over Lesser Harbor_] - - _Voices._ Light! light! - - _First man._ O blessed Zeus! And yet I fear - The babe-eyed Dawn will sicken with what's here - And creep back into night. - - _Second man._ No, day comes on,-- - The red-capped nurse that in her bosom hides - The cherub Dawn, while her broad smile - Goes round the world. - - _Third man._ A smile on this? - - _Second man._ Ay, ay, - Her stomach's for all sights, and ulcerous earth - She'll kiss as close as fountain-laughing vales. - - _First man._ By Ares' bloody dame, here's work enough - To keep the gods a year from holiday! - - [_Shouts without, left. Enter citizens and soldiers in joyful - confusion_] - - _Voices._ 'Tis down! The wall is down! The castle's taken! - - _A voice._ The tyrant has fled by sea! - - _Another._ And none too soon! - - _Another._ He'd pay his head else! - - _Cries without._ Dion! Dion! Dion! - - [_Enter Dion with friends and citizens_] - - _Dion._ Shout not my name, for 'twas the noble stranger - Who won this night. Seek him, Calippus,--beg - His presence here with brow unhelmeted, - That we may look where valor hath her home. - - _Cal._ He's gone, my lord. - - _Dion._ Gone? - - _Cal._ Vanished, as the sea - Had lapped him up. - - _Dion._ More like the gods have stooped - To draw him home again. - - [_Looks about at the desolation and groans_] - - _Cal._ Your wound, my lord? - - _Dion._ No, no. I weep for dying Syracuse. - Now is her glory like a weary star - Withdrawn from fortune's heaven. O fairest city, - Whose beauty drew the feet of farthest kings, - And set a value in the poorest eye - To be a storied heritage to sons - When sires who saw had passed! Even thou hast won - From cold oblivion but an ashen cloak! - - _Aris._ 'Tis tyranny lies here, not Syracuse. - Ay, from these mourn�d ashes, friend, will spring - A brighter glory than they bury now, - And this night's woe bear fruitage of a peace - When Time shall hang as thick with happy hours - As Flora's breast with buds. - - _Speu._ By Hector's spur, - It pricks to think this valor-breasted night, - Bristling with action's pikes toward charging death, - Should e'er beg life of tolerant memory, - Thankful for so much breath as may endow - A musty adage in the mouth of peace, - Or shepherd song piped by an idle rill - To meek-eared violets in noonday shade! - O! O! my lady Fame must have her nap. - Soft, Mars, put on thy slippers! - - [_Enter soldiers dragging Heraclides_] - - _Dion._ Who is this? - - _First soldier._ My lord, a prisoner. - - _Second sol._ 'Tis Heraclides, - My lord. - - _Voices._ Death! Death to Dion's enemy! - - _Dion._ What? Heraclides? - - _Pan._ Ay! [_Drawing his sword_] The blow is mine! - - _Dion._ Put up your sword, brave Panthus. Nay, put up! - - _Pan._ [_Dropping weapon_] 'Twere better used, sir. - - _Dion._ Heraclides, speak. - What would you say? Do you repent this night? - - _Her._ All men, my lord, repent the step that brings - Their cloud-high foreheads to earth. I lie so low - That Fortune's sun-bent eye will find no more - My sunken ruin,--and but one comfort left, - I can descend no further. - - _Pan._ Ay, to hell! - - _Her._ Ambition knows no hell but failure. Strike! - You put me out of torture, not send me to it. - - _Dion._ Life only dreams her hells till death's be found. - - _Her._ 'Tis easy thus to speak from victory's height - Whence all looks fair,--so fair misfortune seems - Sole lie o' the world. We bite truth with the dust, - My lord. - - _Voices._ His sentence! Death! The traitor! Death! - - _Dion._ Peace, friends. - - _Voices._ Death! Seize him! Kill him! - - _Cal._ Dion speaks! - - _Voices._ Hear Dion! - - _Dion._ Not alone in martial venture - Do victors win their bays. Let each of us, - Trampling on anger and contending malice - That from our natures thrust out serpent heads, - Forgive this captive foe, and crown our brows - With wreaths of victory outshining all - That shake from war-decked temples. Hear, my lord. - By the power I hold in the true hearts and minds - Of noble Syracusans, I forgive thee. - - _Voices._ No, no! - - _Cal._ My lord, he warned. He has a tongue - Would flatter Zeus from heaven, and common minds - He calls as flies to honey. - - _Dion._ Nay, his sweet - Is wormwood now. Because this foolish man - Has walked in sin, shall I too blemish virtue? - - _Voices._ Revenge! Revenge! - - _Dion._ Who offers injury, - And who revenges it, ply the same thread - Of Nature's scarlet. Heraclides, go. - Thou'rt free. - - _Her._ I do not kneel to you--a man-- - But to the god that houses in your shape. - O noble Dion, what deed may speak my thanks - Too great for tongue? - - _Dion._ Arise, go forth, and where - You once betrayed a thousand hearts lead one - To safety. - - [_Exit Heraclides, rabble following_] - - _Cal._ [_To Speusippus_] Sir, what think you? - - _Speu._ 'Tis gross error. - He'll breathe a life into the stones o' the street - Ere lack for followers. - - _Cal._ Come, let us see. - - [_Exeunt Calippus and Speusippus, others following_] - - _Dion._ [_To his Grecian guards_] Go nurse your wounds, - brave friends. I need no more - Your arms, but ever need your love. You with them, - Panthus. You know my wishes. - - _Pan._ Ay, my lord. - - [_Exeunt Panthus and guards. Aristocles remains with Dion_] - - _Dion._ My friend! [_They embrace_] No tears! We'll - water joy hereafter. - Now there is much to do. Wilt seek Calippus for me - And make him governor of the castle? - - _Aris._ Ay. [_Exit_] - - _Dion._ [_Alone_] Now red revolt with opened veins lies low - Fast paling to her death; and silence deep - As takes the mother's ear who waits the step - Of her dead soldier son, creeps o'er the world. - And to my lonely eye the universe - Shrinks to a monument writ with one grief. - Ocrastes, couldst, when locked within my love-- - Ay, bedded in the core--to vermin turn - And gnaw the heart thou breathedst in?... O youth, - Among life's strangely flowering hopes thou art - The blossom of deceit! When we have watched - Thy tender green peer up--thy opening buds - That wrap their silken promise round our fears-- - And spent our prayers like nurturing rains upon thee - That thou mayst bloom above our pride and hang - The rose or spring upon our frosty age, - How dost thou droop, till o'er thy cankered wreck - We dew thy fall with tears!... O beauteous bud, - What deadly aconite cast its foul shade - Upon thy blowing grace? My son, my son, - I am no warrior when I think of thee, - Else would my sword be out. A father's eye - Is turned upon thy sin, and all the wrong - Thou didst to me half righted with a tear ... - ... The sun comes flaming from the sea as though - Another Syracuse burnt on the waves ... - Why stand I here? The castle doors are open, - And therein waits the fairest face of earth - To shine for me To shine? O human sun, - Unlike thy skyey peer, thy light is dimmed - With what thou'st looked upon. Thy beams have drunk - Pollution deep that now detested falls - Upon my soul. - - [_Re-enter Aristocles_] - - _Aris._ All's well, my lord. - - _Dion._ All's well? - That's strange news for my heart. Wilt go with me? - - _Aris._ Whither, my lord? - - _Dion._ Into yon castle.... Come. - - [_Exeunt. Curtain_] - - - - -ACT V - - SCENE: _A room in the castle. Brentio alone._ - - -_Bren._ By Hector, we've had a night of it. I must stop now and count -my fingers and toes, for I'm sure there's some of me missing. First, -my gold! [_Counts gold_] All here. But poor mistress Theano that I -promised to carry through fire and flood for this same sweet gold was -burnt up last night. Well, my lord Ocrastes is dead too, so I'll not be -called to account. Had it been flood now I might have kept my promise, -but fire--I never could abide a singed beard. - - [_Enter Tichus_] - -Ho, Tichus! These are wars, sir! These are wars! Have you killed your -man this night? - -_Tich._ A score, I hope. - -_Bren._ Well, I've naught to say. Let deeds talk. A bragging tongue is -Fame's best grave-digger, though it wag i' the mouth of Hercules. But I -spared some, I'll say that. They cried so for mercy, poor fellows! Not -a man of 'em was ready to die, by his own count. - -_Tich._ If you wait for that you'll die swearing blood is green for all -you'll even draw of it. When the gods promised that no man should die -till he was ready old Charon sold his boat. - -_Bren._ There's a stick-penny for you. What was his bargain? - -_Tich._ A feather bed, that he might sleep off idleness. - -_Bren._ Ah, but you should have seen me when a villain pitted at me -with three pikes. A murderous three-handed deformity, by the truth o' -my eyes he was! - -_Tich._ Then you shook your sword, I warrant! - -_Bren._ No, bless me, I shook my feet. - -_Tich._ Man, you didn't run? - -_Bren._ No, I flew. I wore Mercury's feathers, I tell you. - -_Tich._ Shame, Brentio! A coward's leg will never overtake Fame. - -_Bren._ Ay, but when a man must leap the grave to catch her, let take -her who will! I'm done. Have you been through the castle? - -_Tich._ No. - -_Bren._ Come then. There are sights to be seen. Mostly in the cellars, -where every soldier gets a bottle for his song. - - [_Sings_] - - Who will not be merry then let him go drown, - Let him go drown, - In as rosy a bumper as ever went down, - As ever went down, - And he'll bob up, he'll bob up, by Bacchus, he will, - As hail a good fellow as ever wet gill! - -Here are our masters! I'm gone. A hero may drink, but work--never! -[_Exit_] - -_Tich._ There's more trouble ahead than the claw o' my wit can scratch. -Ocrastes' death makes one less in the pother, but I've eyes in my head, -and there's no doubt my master is in love with the lady Aratea, and one -lover can make more trouble than a score of extra husbands. Well, well, -when thy cares bewilder thee take time and wine for thy counsellors. -So let it work out. [_Exit. Aristocles and Dion appear in hall partly -visible through wide open doors, rear. Aristocles enters and comes -front. Dion remains without, gazing down, moody and meditative_] - - _Aris._ Deep, deep, my thoughts, dive to some bed of death - In my wide-regioned self, nor come again - Like sea-return�d corpse, with livid grin - And foul, accreted horror, to beg anew - For burial. - - [_Dion comes in and walks slowly across to Aristocles_] - - You'll see her now? - - _Dion._ See whom? - - _Aris._ Your wife. - - _Dion._ My wife? Have I a wife? - - _Aris._ She waits - Your summons by Diana's altar. - - _Dion._ Ah! - So near? - - _Aris._ Theano waits with her. - - _Dion._ My niece? - She's safe? - - _Aris._ By miracle. The unknown knight - Bore her from out Phillistus' burning house. - - _Dion._ Still swells our debt to him. - - _Aris._ You'll see her now? - - _Dion._ See whom, my friend? - - _Aris._ Your wife, sir,--Aratea. - - _Dion._ When you repeat the name I half believe - I have a wife. Your voice was ever true, - Nor fed me with the rifled husks of speech. - ... Was she not fair? - - _Aris._ My lord? - - _Dion._ How fair, think you? - - _Aris._ Who, sir, could say? Such beauty scorns all words - And writes itself but in the wondering eye. - - _Dion._ You shift. You shift. Your tongue is beauty's pencil. - Did heaven lack a goddess you might limn - A fairer than a Venus for the place. - Speak on. Tell me her sum to the last doit. - The balance of a hair--a smile unborn-- - I'd not strike off. - - _Aris._ [_Coldly_] You know her worth, my lord. - - _Dion._ Nay, the appraising eye when fixed too near - The thing it loves distorts the sweet proportion. - You can adjust your gaze, take stand to bring - Her beauty to perfection's single-point. - - _Aris._ What matter? All is yours. - - _Dion._ Ah, if 'twere mine - I'd care not, happy then to know 'twas mine. - But when we've lost we're moved to question, sir, - Else are we crippled twice in our estate, - Once in the loss, again to know it not. - - _Aris._ Strange speech, my lord. I hardly know your tongue. - - _Dion._ You can not understand, for you've no wife. - No more have I. But once.... Yes, yes, I'll see her. - Wilt bring her here? - - _Aris._ I bring her? Here? To you? - - _Dion._ If 'tis too sad a service---- - - _Aris._ Nay, I go. [_Exit_] - - _Dion._ I am forgot in his great pity of her. - - [_Enter Calippus_] - - _Cal._ Lord Dion, Heraclides begs to see you. - - _Dion._ Is he alone? - - _Cal._ �gisthus comes with him. - - _Dion._ Bid them into the banquet hall. - - _Cal._ My lord, - You will not see them? - - _Dion._ Ay, there's naught to fear. - Tell them I'll join them soon. - - [_Exit Calippus_] - - Now riven heart, - Close firm as mountain bulwark that beats off - The Thracian wind. - - [_Enter Aristocles with Theano and Aratea_] - - _Dion._ [_To Theano_] Good welcome, niece. - - [_He embraces Theano, and looks silently at Aratea_] - - _Ara._ [_Falteringly_] My lord---- - - _Dion._ Your friend, your lover--ay, your slave,--but not - Your lord, sweet Aratea. - - _Ara._ O! Condemned! - - _Dion._ Not that--but---- - - _Ara._ Then you'll hear me? - - _Dion._ No! Your voice - Renews in me the battle that I thought - Was fought to end. - - _Ara._ But I could say, my lord---- - - _Dion._ Ay, you could say what would revoke the sun, - Turn back into his heart his golden spears, - And from the sapphire battlements make pour - Surpris�d night! How easy then to shake - The scarce-sworn vow from my unfended breast - To melt like snowflake caught in lap of June! - - _Ara._ O, sir---- - - _Dion._ You've that in you defeats resolve, - And casts in broil the mind's high chancery. - I will not hear a word! 'Tis my defence, - Not cruelty. All honor shall be thine - Apart from me. - - _Ara._ What honor may be mine - Apart from thee? - - _Dion._ Nay, question not my justice! - - _Ara._ You think me vile, my lord? - - _Dion._ Mayhap I do! - Were there no poisons left in Sicily? - No rank, night-sweating herbs whose bane might work - Proud honor's choice? Were daggers grown too blunt - To pierce fair flesh? What, not a rope--nor cord? - No garters--strips of silken robes---- - - _Aris._ O, spare - To accuse a soul who erred that she might still - Be true to Heaven. - - _Dion._ True? By Pallas! True? - - _Aris._ Sir, she obeyed the gods who bid us wait - And work on earth our destiny. - - _Dion._ The gods - Sometimes write in our fates that to seek death - Is what will solely please them. - - _Aris._ Must I see - The sun of justice in you set? - - _Dion._ Ah, friend, - Do you not see 'tis my desire that cries - To keep her still? 'Tis passion weighing doubts, - Hoping to find them light as rising vapors. - - _Aris._ Though she had struck at life within her heart, - Swart Atropos had dropped her shears for pity, - Nor helped so fair a woe to death. Yet you---- - - _Dion._ O, she is pure, but not to me! 'Tis stamped - Upon my soul that she is dark to me - Though fair to Heaven! - - _The._ Hear her, sir. She took - No vows. Her lips were dumb---- - - _Dion._ O, vows! You speak - Of words? - - _The._ But---- - - _Dion._ Silence, niece! - - _Aris._ Receive her, sir. - - _Dion._ Never, my friend! What can you know of this? - - _Aris._ I know she is Pandora without taint! - The secret pattern lost in mourning heaven - When rapt Hephaistos shaped the perfect clay - By Pallas' breath made vital! Sir, receive her! - Let me implore it by our years of love. - - _Dion._ Thou'rt dear to me as man may be to man, - But wert thou dear as god may be to god, - I could not grant thy wish. - - _Aris._ Then she is mine! - And, could I snatch a tear from Dian's cheek - When bowed at secret altar she renews - Her vestal sanctity, 'twould not be less - Unspotted to my love! O, Aratea, - Wilt come? My wife? Say not thou lov'st, but cling - Unto my breast as trusting bud to bough, - Or but uplook with eyes whose shaken sea - Is calmed in mine. - - _Dion._ Ye powers that rule my being, - Stop every conscious note but wonder! - - _Aris._ Ah, - I've heard it said Apollo loved my mother, - And I could wish it true, that god-descended - I might embrace thyself, who surely art - Of high Olympus born--whose mortal part - Wears beauty as the night her stars. - - _Dion._ Behold - Me desolate, ye gods! Is this my friend? - Nay, thou hast given friendship such a blow - She dies from earth, nor in eternal groves - May she be healed. - - _Aris._ Not mine, but yours, the blow. - - _Dion._ Ocrastes struck me, and I rose again. - My wife was taken, and I lived to sigh. - But you--O, now the quick of life is seized - With mortal ill. Now shakes my earth to centre, - And on me falling bow her peak�d tops. - Even here and now I die. All fellowship - Forego with gallant breath, and lay me down - Like forest trunk that pours its wasting heart - From every lopp�d limb. - - [_Theano attempts to comfort him_] - - Go from me, girl. - My wounded senses shrink away from life - Till gentlest touches are as brands of pain. - Dumb be my lips. I'll speak no more on earth. - - _Ara._ Keep you that word! Thy silence is my speech! - Know, Dion, though the knowing now is naught, - Ocrastes left me ere his marriage vow - Was cold in air, nor took one bridal kiss. - Nor have these eyes beheld him since that hour, - Nor will the eye of mortal see him more. - The sea now holds him to her buried heart. - Some shelly couch washed with a Nereid's tears - Is his last bed. - - _Dion._ And you untouched ... untouched. - - _Ara._ I grieve you did not know me better, sir. - You too, my lord Aristocles. Those cords-- - Those daggers--poisons--had been quickly found---- - - _Dion._ Untouched! No bridal kiss! My blindness goes. - But Heaven, in pity, shut me dark again, - For I have wronged Ocrastes--who is dead. - How could your woman heart not know the truth-- - That he thus saved you from a baser touch - To be restored all perfect, pure to me? - And he is dead. Give me your pity, gods! - Now we will mourn, Theano. Here, my daughter. - Our griefs let marry in our kissing tears. - - [_Embraces Theano_] - - But there's a brightness yet in this dark woe. - - [_Advances to Aratea_] - - Once more, my love, my wife, you are all mine. - - [_Aristocles steps before Aratea_] - - What mean you now? - - _Aris._ To guard my own. For you - The pearl of opportunity is lost. - Briareus' hands could not now snatch it back - Where 't pales on time's retreating wave. - - _Dion._ By Mars, - I'll pass you, sir! - - _The._ Let Aratea speak. - Is 't not for her to choose? - - _Dion._ A wedded woman - Can have no choice. - - _The._ O, Dion, be a god, - Not man, and grant it. - - _Aris._ Choose thine own. As free - As new created star, fix where thou wilt. - - _Diem._ Ay, choose! Thou art my wife. Thy holy truth - Will fail thee not. Speak! End this bitter folly - From which the gods would turn shame-burning face! - - _The._ Not if all tale be true. - - _Dion._ You speak too much! - - _Ara._ First swear, my lords, however I may choose, - You'll still be friends, as honored and as true - As though this face I loathe had never come - Between your loves. - - _Aris._ I swear to you my friend - Shall be my friend. - - _Ara._ You, sir? - - _Dion._ I will forgive him, - For love has made him mad. - - _Ara._ Swear it by Heaven. - - _Dion._ By Heaven. Now wilt speak? - - _Ara._ Such sacred oaths - Need sacrificial rite, and here I give - My blood. - - [_Suddenly draws a dagger and attempts to stab herself. - Aristocles, watching eagerly, seizes dagger, and supporting her - speaks wildly_] - - _Aris._ Think not that you can fly me now! - Though thou wert dead still wouldst thou live for me - In such dear semblance of remembered show - That I would seek to woo thy houseless spirit - E'er give thee o'er unclasped to Heaven! - - _Ara._ Ah! [_Releases herself_] - - _Dion._ But now she lives, and living she is mine. - - _Aris._ Her lips, not yours, shall say! - - _Dion._ Lost man, thou'rt crazed. - I pity thee. Speak, wife. - - _Ara._ O, blow me, winds, - To some unpeopled sphere, and find me peace - As sweet as his who cropped the first day fruits - Of green unharrowed earth! - - _Dion._ This is no answer. - - _Ara._ My lord, if 't be my prayers can save my soul, - In some far fane I'll serve the priestess' cup - Till Death is kind and calls me. - - _Dion._ [_Seizing her arm_] Answer me! - Art mine, or his? - - _Ara._ Till truth no more is truth - Thou art my lord. - - [_Aristocles turns and moves apart, covering his face with his - mantle. Aratea sinks feebly and Theano supports her_] - - _Dion._ [_To Aristocles_] Now you've your answer! Niece, - Lead out my wife. - - [_Theano takes Aratea from the room, through curtained entrance, - left_] - - Aristocles--my friend-- - I pity and forgive thee. When Love drives, - His chariot reins are veins of mortal men, - Who fain must course the bright god's destiny - Nor reck the road. 'Tis strange--not that you loved her-- - But that I did not dream it must be so, - She being the top and bloom of all her sex, - As you, my lord, of yours. A mortal judge - Would grant you her, but God gave her to me, - And I doubt not He blundered to a purpose - Beyond our dream. Ah me, the night's red eyes - Looked fatal on the sail that bore you hither. - Cursed be my prayers that drew you from your Athens! - Farewell! For you must go. Small Sicily - No more may hold us both. - - [_Re-enter Theano_] - - _The._ She's better, sir. - - _Dion._ That's well. - - [_Enter Calippus, through hall, rear_] - - Your news? - - _Cal._ Our saviour of the night - Now waits to see you. - - _Dion._ The warrior? Ask him in! - - [_Exit Calippus_] - - _The._ I'll speak the thanks he waited not to hear, - Although my heart gives none for this poor life. - - [_Enter warrior, rear, still in arms and helmeted_] - - _Dion._ Thou'rt welcome as the gods. As lightning makes - The world now bright, now dark, you fill and void - The circle of our sense, but, here or there, - 'Tis ours to grant you what you will if power - Be in us. - - _Warrior._ [_Kneeling_] For one thing I sue--forgiveness. - [_Removes helmet_] - - _Dion._ Ocrastes! - - _Oc._ Ay. - - _Dion._ How couldst be hid from me - Though veiled in seven-fold steel? - - _The._ Not dead--not dead---- - - _Oc._ [_Embracing Theano_] My heart, look up. The long - tale of my sins - Will be as virtue's song when in love's ear - 'Tis whispered. Nay, weep not. Those woes are sealed. - - _The._ O, canst forgive me? - - _Oc._ It is I must sue. - Nay, nay, my sweet, no liquid gem drop now - On misery's broken altar, too long rich - With these eyes' jewels. - - _The._ Ah, thou'rt mine ... still mine. - - _Oc._ Ere I have done your constancy shall hear - Such music of true love you'll think those birds - That move the gentle concords of the night - In these bright locks make bower continual. - [_Kisses her hair_] - For every hour of your ungracious star, - With the full circuit of a smiling moon - I'll pension you, till covetous of time - You'll wish your sorrows had been more, not less. - - _Dion._ Not one embrace for me? - - _Oc._ Before I make - My plea for pardon? - - _Dion._ That may wait, my son, - For empty hours. This is too full of joy. - - _Oc._ I did not go to Italy, my lord, - But to the Leontines---- - - _Dion._ O, go not back - To read the bloodprints of bewildered feet. - Now as the soft life-wooing breath that moves - So swift upon the track of orient storms - That ere the woeful people dry their tears - Earth is new-clad in garments of the sun - And balm is in the air like blessings winged, - Fanning delight in every lifted cheek, - So treads this hour at heel of flying woe. - - [_Enter Brentio, rear_] - -_Bren._ My lord, the people in the banquet hall are drinking all the -cellars dry. You'd weep to see it, sir. [_Sees Theano and Ocrastes. -Looks in bewilderment from one to the other, claps hand to his purse -and runs out_] - -_Dion._ The slave's beset. - -_Oc._ He's drunk, my lord. - -_Dion._ I had forgot Heraclides. [_Going_] Ocrastes, come. We'll not -so soon be parted. You to my wife, Theano. [_Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes, -rear; Theano through curtains, left_] - - _Aris._ [_Alone_] Dion, how oft hast sworn I was thy dearest, - Yet go to happiness while I droop here - As to my grave. Nor dost thou need me more - Than quickest life its century-buried dead. - Yet one is yon, behind those curtains close, - Who starves even as you feed. Her love is mine. - By Heaven, I know 'tis mine! Yet I must go-- - Leave her to perish. Ay, her flower soul - Not long will bear the weight of unloved love. - - [_Soldiers enter hall, rear, drinking and singing_] - - O, Helen had a rosy lip, - And only one might kiss it, - But all of mistress wine may sip - And she will never miss it. - - Ho, brothers all are we, - Brothers all are we! - We've sworn to the last red drop, - Be it found in a heart or found in a cup, - And brothers all we be! - - A soldier's trade it is to die, - And what poor fools are they - Who for a soldier's death will sigh-- - 'Tis all in a business way. - - Ho, brothers all are we, &c. - - [_Exeunt drunkenly_] - - _Aris._ O, I am wounded in the character - I sought to build so giant-like that as - A figure on the skies all men would see - And longing upward scorn their baser state! - Now am I grown deform�d with a scar - That all eternity can not make fair. - ... To go ... nor say farewell. To go ... to go, - And see no more her face ... that face which is - Imagination sighing in a word. - That face where Beauty with her mysteries - Sits listening to Magi of the air, - Or ocean lapping on eternal sands. - 'Tis as a star should to a flower turn, - And yet remember heaven. - - [_Approaches curtains and kneels_] - - Fare thee well! - O thou whose body is a living urn - Full of distill�d sweets from every mead - Where Love hath set a flower! Whose soul compacts - All earth's divinity, and leaves profane - All space where it is not! - - [_Arises and starts out slowly. At the door he looks back. Aratea - appears at curtains, but does not see him_] - - O, I must fly ... - Must fly ... nor hear again her voice that lures - As it would draw the fallen golden world - O'er desert ages to man's memory. - - _Ara._ [_Sees him and advances_] You here, Aristocles? - - _Aris._ Wilt say farewell? - - _Ara._ [_Going back_] Farewell. - - _Aris._ No word but that? - - _Ara._ That is too much. - - _Aris._ [_Approaching_] Too much? - - _Ara._ I--faint again. Nay, touch me not! - - _Aris._ Am I so perilous to thee? My hand - Has had no commerce yet with cruelty. - - _Ara._ The moon with silver foot steps not more soft - Among the tears of night than falls thy touch - On me, who, poorer than the night, must go - Uncomforted. Thou'lt leave this place at once - If thou hast pity. - - _Aris._ Ah, had I a heart - Great-swelling as the sad Molurian mount, - Or pil�d peaks that wreck the sailing moon, - 'Twere not enough to melt upon this woe! - - _Ara._ Wretched, O wretched me! To be the curse - Of what is best on earth! - - _Aris._ Peace, unjust lips! - Thou art a rose that, rooted in Elysium, - Leans sorrowing to the world that it may see - What beauty is and know then how to dream. - O, close those other worlds, your eyes, that I - May live in this! [_She moves back_] - Stay, I must speak! - - _Ara._ No, no! - - _Aris._ And you must hear me. - - _Ara._ Silence, sir, is best. - In her deep bosom let our woes be buried, - As Night doth shepherd all the cares of day - Till Heaven think the world asleep, though 'neath - The dark are hot and staring eyes. - - _Aris._ Nay, nay, - Put courage in thy heart to gender wings - That we may dart as swallows to the sun - And tread the rosy air where love may breathe! - - _Ara._ My lord---- - - _Aris._ Come! come! Greece is our home of light. - There you, my wife, shall rule a lesser heaven - And tutor souls for God's. [_She turns to go_] - One moment hear me! - You love me, Aratea. - - _Ara._ Fare you well. - - _Aris._ [_Against the curtains_] First say thou lovest me! - Dost thou not hear - A voice at night when calm Eirene leads - Sleep to all eyes but thine? - - _Ara._ Have mercy, sir! - - _Aris._ What leap of soul or dream of sense hast thou - That is not sweeter for you hold me dear? - When Theia's daughter, priestess gray, unhoods - Her morning face, and all her clouds of rose - With flying petals light the waking world, - Does not your ecstasy swim on the flood - Of my remembered eyes, and their delight - Re-jewel beauty's diadem? - - _Ara._ I beg---- - - _Aris._ When throbbing wonders of a dying sun - Trail off their glories like escaping souls, - And Night with lustred heaven round her neck - Lures up immensities, whose spirit longs - Through all your longings till it leads your own - To crowned and still content? - - _Ara._ Will you not go? - - _Aris._ And when thy gaze is on the sibyl sea, - Striving to read her ancient wave-writ script, - And break the seal a differing language sets - Upon her mighty tongue, whence cometh peace - Like full and silent answer to your heart? - - _Ara._ If this be love, then let it be mine still. - For it may be without a touch of hands. - Ay, though in Athens you must live and move - Still are you mine in mysteries and joys. - I thank you, sir, for having taught me love - That is forever holy, wronging none. - - _Aris._ Nay, Aratea, man can not be God - And pipe all Heaven through a mortal reed! - Come to my arms, O life and soul of me! - As chaste verbenas on an altar kiss, - As streamlets join in soft approving shade, - As clouds immingle in the glancing sun, - So shall our loves unchided of the skies. - Not leafy choirs that anthem Flora in, - Or those sweet songs that in day's virgin hour - Their hymeneal pour from feathery pipes - That stale Apollo's lute, shall win more smiles - From the consenting gods! - - _Ara._ O, music, breath - Of sin! - - _Aris._ Not so! To love thee not were sin! - The adoration of so fair a soul - Would save me were I damned! And thou art mine. - By stars that knit their motions with our fates, - The season-childing sun, great Heaven itself---- - - _Ara._ O, not by Heaven! - - _Aris._ And Heaven's all-greater Lord, - Who gives us souls that we may love all beauty, - And gives us beauty that our souls may love it, - I swear thee mine! - - _Ara._ Your oath--your oath to Dion! - - _Aris._ Thou 'rt mine above all vows! Thou canst not let - A mock-enthron�d custom speak to God? - An atom fettered with nice consequence - Bar up the gates of love that are as wide - As His earth-belting arms? - - _Ara._ No pity, none. - - _Aris._ My heart, say thou wilt come. - - _Ara._ 'Tis death. - - _Aris._ 'Tis life! - Come now, O now, else are we cast apart - Far as the dismal Night heaves her vast sigh, - Far as the laboring Chaos breathing blows,-- - Perchance to hurl eternally about - The farthest stars that from oppos�d heavens - Dart fiery scouts that die ere they have met, - So long their journey is. Or, gloomier fate, - Condemn�d sit like stones that once could weep - Forever in the cave of ended things - That deep in some immortal Lemnos lies - Nor ever opens its dank gates to day! - O, come ere we are lost! Be thy fair arms - The rainbow girdle to this longing storm - And its rude breast will pillow thee as soft - As Leda when, cool-rocked on lily couch, - The great down-bosomed god swam to her love! - Come, Aratea, heart of life! O now - This pulse speaks back to mine--this bosom throbs - Like heaven's Artemis unto her own! - [_Kisses her_] - O kiss that holds the mornings of all time, - And dewy seasons of the ungathered rose, - Plant once again thy summer on my lips! - - _Ara._ How dear is death that kisses with such breath! - Thine eyes are seas where sighing ardors blow - Love's argosies from island bowers of dream - Into my heart. Save me, Aristocles! - O me, I'm netted in these golden curls - With web as sure as that the crafty god - Once wove round Aphrodite's blushing bed - And trapped great Ares, sport for gazing heaven! - O, I am lost! [_Casts him off_] - Away! away! Nor may - My lips move more on earth but in a prayer - To cleanse this moment's madness from our souls! - - _Aris._ Wouldst leave me now to death? - - _Ara._ Ay, unto death, - Lest Truth and Honor die! Thy way's not mine. - My aspen soul would shake its house of fear, - Imagine thunder in the bee's soft hum, - And mountain-rocking winds in harmless air - That would not move the purple down of clouds. - To so great compass now my horror grows - That I myself seem Chaos. 'Tis as I stood - 'Mong heaps of ruined destinies with life - Still mourning in them. I am still for fear - Another world will crumble as I stir. - - _Aris._ Move, Aratea! Speak! - - _Ara._ Dost hear that sound? - It is the rustle of tear-dropping gods - Who gather all the golden virtues up - Vouchsafed to earth and trampled low by man. - See how they rise with their immortal store, - A moving radiance like the march of light, - And leave us dark for want of what they bear? - Far, far till stars must upward look to see-- - A sapphire trail through the ethereal rose! - Now--earth and darkness--and you call it love! - [_Sinks down_] - - _Aris._ [_Lifting her_] Fair soul, be mortal yet! - - _Ara._ [_Going from him_] Who leaps for stars - Must fall a million leagues too short, or else - Take vantage not of earth. [_Goes to curtains_] - Farewell--till death. - - _Aris._ 'Twill not be long to wait. Thou canst not live - In Dion's arms. - - _Ara._ Nor thine. As well to hope - The air-winged seed will root in vacancy, - And high mid-nothing hang with lob�d bloom, - As that the rose of love will flower from - The wreck of men and gods. - - [_He kneels and kisses her robe. She goes out_] - - _Aris._ Before I die - I've touched divinity. - - [_As he rises a slave rushes in, rear, and kneels_] - - _Slave._ My lord! - - _Aris._ You serve - Lord Heraclides, do you not? - - _Slave._ I do, - And know his heart--his traitor heart. - - _Aris._ Speak, man. - - _Slave._ You love the noble Dion? - - _Aris._ [_Starts_] Dion? Ay, - I love him well. - - _Slave._ Sir, Heraclides comes - To slay him. Dion, the good! But you will save him! - �gisthus and Callorus aid my master. - They're bringing Dion here. - - _Aris._ Here? Haste! Bring you - Ocrastes and Calippus! Freedom! Go! - - [_Slave runs out. Aristocles steps back unseen as Dion, - Heraclides, �gisthus and Callorus enter. The slave running out - meets them_] - - _Her._ What do you, sirrah? - - [_The slave runs by without answer_] - - Go! You'll not outrun - The hangman! - - [_�gisthus and Callorus keep in rear of Heraclides, who walks with - Dion_] - - _�g._ [_To Callorus_] We're betrayed. - - _Callo._ [_To Heraclides_] Do not delay - The blow. - - _Her._ [_To Dion_] You like our plan, my lord? - - _�g._ [_To Heraclides_] Strike now. - - _Dion._ 'Tis balm to Syracuse. Your hand upon it, - And pardon me my left. - - _Her._ With all my heart! - - [_Stabs at Dion, whose sword arm is still in bandage. Aristocles, - watching, springs out and knocks the weapon aside. Heraclides - engages with him. Callorus rushes at Dion, who has loosened his - right arm, and his foe, meeting unexpected defence, is slain. - As Callorus falls, �gisthus strikes at Dion and disarms him, - sending his weapon against the curtains, left. Dion, unarmed and - suffering, falls back. Aristocles presses before Dion, fighting - desperately with Heraclides and �gisthus, Aratea appears at - curtains_] - - _Ara._ [_Taking up Dion's weapon_] O heart of Mars, - beat here! - - [_She advances suddenly and draws upon �gisthus, who falls back - in momentary astonishment, and Aristocles, relieved, slays - Heraclides. Ocrastes and Calippus rush in rear, followed by guards - and slaves. Theano and women, enter left. �gisthus kneels and - surrenders his sword to Aratea_] - - _Cal._ No mercy now! - [_To guards_] To prison with �gisthus! - - [_Guards lead off �gisthus_] - - _Oc._ Dion! Safe? - - _Dion._ [_Rising_] My wife--and friend--can tell you. - Ask of them. - - _Oc._ [_Picking up bandage_] My lord, your scarf. - - _Dion._ Let 't be, my son. Let 't be. - I shall not need it any more. - - _Oc._ O joy, - My lord! - - _Cal._ And joy for Heraclides' death! - - _Aris._ Poor man! His flattery so soon found friends - That he himself was caught by it, and thought - To gain a crown by Dion's death. E'en while - They talked--O ne'er was friendly speech so punctured-- - His sword was out and aimed at Dion's bosom. - - _Oc._ Your blade is purple, but it should be black, - So vile his blood! - [_Dion sinks to a seat_] - - _Cal._ My lord! - - _Oc._ Your wound! He bleeds! - O see! This stream is gushing as 'twould fill - An ocean. Help! A surgeon! - - _Dion._ Nay, too late. - Olympus' power alone is potent here. - There's not enough of life in me to wish - For life. - - _Ara._ O, Dion! - - _Dion._ Kneel here, my wife. - - [_Aratea kneels at Dion's side_] - - And you, - Aristocles, come close to me. - - [_Aristocles kneels on the other side of Dion_] - - Two faces - Where more of heaven is writ than I have seen - In all the world beside. Ay, ye will pair - Like twin divinities, and haply by - The sweet conjunction of your beauteous stars - Make a new influence in the skies may draw - The world to heaven. - ... Ocrastes, son, on you - Now falls the heavy weight of government. - ... Farewell, all hearts. My way is new and long, - And strange may be the fortunes of my shade, - But somewhere I shall lay me down in peace, - For death's unmeasured sea must own a strand, - And e'en eternity beat to a shore. - - [_Dies._ _Curtain_] - - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - | Transcriber notes: | - | | - | Fixed up various punctuation. | - | | - | P. 40. '...fit to reach y weak'; changed 'y' to 'my'. | - | | - | Note: text surrounded by _this_ indicates italics. | - | Text surrounded by =this= indicates bold. | - | | - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Lords and Lovers, by Olive Tilford Dargan - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LORDS AND LOVERS *** - -***** This file should be named 51282-0.txt or 51282-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/8/51282/ - -Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Kentuckiana Digital Library) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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