SCENE: _The garden of Pelagon, as in first act. Enter youths and maidens
dancing about Pyrrha and Biades. They sing:_
Hymen, god of bended knees,
Who would gain to thee must lose!
Take from us thy merry fees,
Though our fairest thou dost choose,--
Pyrrha and our Biades!
Fling the garland and the wreath!
Roses, roses consecrate,
That upgive their happy breath
In an ardor 'neath our feet,
Kissing fortune in their death!
Sparta's won, and Athens' wed!
Shyest hours of midnight, bring
Charm and blessing for the bed
Whence a fairer Greece shall spring
And her golden peace be bred!
[_They dance off, lower right, as Pelagon and Stesilaus enter middle
left_]
_Pel._ Ha, neatly sung! By Hermes, they have made
A tickling in my sandals.
_Ste._ Frivol!
_Pel._ Eh?
Nay, youth must wind his horn----
_Ste._ Not in my ears!
_Pel._ Though he never come to the hunt. But Biades
Has run the chase, and's bravely home again,
The game in pack.
_Ste._ Too noble game for him!
My girl! That I should ever play the sire
To a fop of Athens!
_Pel._ If the burn's so raw,
You've secret salve for it.
_Ste._ Yes. 'Tis not my blood
That so forgets its source!
_Pel._ Sh! Stesilaus!
A little butter on the tongue, my friend,
Does no man harm.
_Ste._ Butter a hackle, not
My tongue! If I'm so rubbed, I'll rasp the winds
Till they sprout ears. Don't "sh" me, Pelagon.
I'll muffle in no corners.
_Pel._ Hist, I say----
_Ste._ Don't zizz into my beard! We are not curs
To nose and smell in council!
_Pel._ Ruin's on us!
You will be heard----
[_Enter Menas, upper right_]
_Menas._ Joy to the noble fathers!
Sweet saviors of our city!
_Ste._ Sweet!
_Menas._ What says
Our Stesilaus?
_Pel._ Ahem! The Spartan joy
Is ever dumb. But see him stirred to heart
That by a gift from out his very life,
His dearest daughter, peace is home in Athens,
And's forced no more to camp and cadge and beg
At our shut gates. Yet it goes hard to part
Wi' the fairest branch on's tree.
_Menas._ In Biades
He finds a treasured son.
_Ste._ By a mermaid's shoes,
A precious son!
_Menas._ How, sir?
_Pel._ Indeed, indeed,
A jewel of a son! Will you, friend Menas,
Float with the senators, and bring to shore
Report of how they drift,--what currents favor
And what now counter us?
_Menas._ I'll go, my lords,
To hear the latest honor they conclude
Best caps your fame, and bring it in a word. [_Exit Menas_]
_Ste._ I had two minds to throw the truth in 's face
And see him strangle on it.
_Pel._ Friend, wouldst make
My old knees creak to earth? I sue to you
Be soft as prudence. Shall we now be false
To our dearly tended hope--united Greece?
Now when the fact is on us, and our dream
Walks in the day? I beg you clear your heart
Of selfish fire that eats the very pattern
Of love's new world. It is ungraced, perverse
As altar flame that would devour the shrine
'Twas lit to honor.
_Ste._ Think of Greece? What's Greece,
When my own daughter pairs with----
_Pel._ Nay, but mine.
When you are bitterest set, say to yourself
She's of my loins, and when more softly taken,
Then call her yours. But openly be constant
To a father's right in her, and proudly sire
Her honors. And 's for Biades, he's but
A brocket yet, his antlers barely bossed.
My oath upon it, your reshaping hand
Firm-cupped about his overweening spring,
Will be a second cradle where he'll grow
Fair to your fashion. Think on that.
_Ste._ I will.
There's comfort. Ay, so, so. The terms of peace
Make him a Spartan. Pyrrha stood with me
Stout-willed on that.
_Pel._ Then whist! You trust your wife?
_Ste._ You speak to Stesilaus.
_Pel._ Eh, I know
You've her in hand. My Sachinessa now-- [_Sighs_]
But she loves Phania best. That locks her tongue.
And, friend, do you not see the high all-ruling Will
Has moved behind our own?
_Ste._ I think it so.
Our aim achieves its heaven, though we smart
Beneath it. To the outer glozing fame
That now attires us splendent, we may add
Inmost applause. When we exchanged our babes,
'Twas for this end and day, and had we held
To our first intent and taken our own again,
Our hope had died unfruitive. 'Twas there
That deity came in and shifted us
To th' true sybillic course.
_Pel._ Who dares say else?
We'll wear the issue as a sacred robe
Fallen on us from Olympus.
_Ste._ Which our wisdom
Fits comely to us. Forget it not, such gift
Had been withheld from minds too poor to be
The heirs of Zeus.
_Pel._ But if the clay-eyed mob,
Whose pottage traffic up Olympian paths
Blocks commerce godly and invisible----
_Ste._ Tush, cut the string, if you have aught in bag.
_Pel._ Why, I would say if some of grosser sight
Than our two selves, should fumble on our secret
That Pyrrha is Athens born----
_Ste._ Nay, put your fears
In pocket. It shall not be known.
[_Enter Biades_]
_Bia._ Ha, nunky!
Where is my happy father? [_Sees Stesilaus_] A suit, my lord!
I've Pyrrha's leave to make our home in Athens
If thou wilt bless our dwelling. Crave thy grace
For sake of her in whom thy pride best flowers!
Here she'll o'erlay all Spartan crudity
With suavest bloom, and take e'en native place
Where Athens' love would set her.
_Ste._ Never, sir! [_Exit, middle left_]
_Bia._ The gray fox snaps. Ho, but I'll draw his teeth,
And he shall yelp for 't too!
_Pel._ Shame, sir! Not give
The road to him? The father of your bride?
_Bia._ I will when she's his daughter.
_Pel._ What! What, boy?
_Bia._ I say when she's his daughter. Let that in
At your good ear, and in the t'other one
I'll call _you_ father.
_Pel._ Ruin! It's come!
_Bia._ Who thinks
I'd make that Spartan grunt my father, knows
Not me! What? Set that boding beard at head
Of my Athenian house? Or go to Sparta
To hut me where I would not ask a stall
For a borrowed horse?
_Pel._ But----
_Bia._ Scratch my helpless throat
With bread a pig would stick at? Swallow brew
Of salt and soot? And chafe my pumiced skin
With itching linsey?--or an untanned hide,
As man were still the beast that wore it?
_Pel._ Peace,
My son----
_Bia._ Say grace for leeks and goose-foot?
_Pel._ But----
_Bia._ Though Eros pinned me head and foot with shafts,
I've saved my eyes, bless my united wits,
And know the high-road! I'll not lose me on
A pig-trail to a sty.
_Pel._ But if these Spartans hear
They'll sack the city! Zeus deliver us!
We're lost! we're lost! Oh, Biades!
_Bia._ [_Calm_] Talk in a muff, good father Pelagon,
Or we indeed are lost.
_Pel._ You'll keep the secret?
_Bia._ A time. I've plans in seed will make all Sparta
A garden for my Athens, where her fame
Shall browse to its tallest. Trust me, Pelagon.
I'm still a general!
[_Enter, lower right, young men who surround Biades, and press him off,
singing_]
Gander now must keep with goose!
Biades, O, Biades,
Thou shalt ne'er the cord unloose,
For the mighty god decrees
He shall hang who dares the noose!
[_Re-enter Stesilaus_]
_Ste._ He's gone? I took
My anger off where it might safely blow.
This path brushed clear by Heaven must not be closed
By our stumbling selves. The widgeon! He would fly
Above the eagle, but I'll snip his feathers,
Give me good time! He'd live in Athens, ha!
And swore on Hera's altar he would be
A son of Sparta!
_Pel._ Nay, I noted, sir,
That Sparta was not named in 's oath.
_Ste._ What now?
_Pel._ Naught, naught, my friend! Yet he but swore to make
The land of Pyrrha his.
_Ste._ And what meant that
But Sparta? If his warm wooer's oath must cool,
We've winters that will do it.
_Pel._ Caution's best.
Slow-mare will get you home.
_Ste._ A year or two
Of good black bread, and free winds on his skin
Will take the maiden from his cheeks and set
A true man's beard there. Tush! I thought that Fate,
Granting my main desire, gave me this plague,
Which, with the rest, now proves my life has pleased
High arbiters. You're silent, Pelagon.
_Pel._ No, no! Yes, yes! I think so. 'Tis indeed!
_Ste._ Come, come, my friend! We will go forth and meet
The occasion as a guest, bethinking us
We walk between mankind and deity.
[_They start out and are met by Alcanor and Phania who fall before
them_]
_Pha._ [_Kneeling to Stesilaus_] Your blessing, father!
_Alc._ [_At Pelagon's feet_] Blessing, dearest father!
_Pel._ What, what!
_Pha._ [_To Stesilaus_] Forgive your child!
_Alc._ The priest----
_Ste._ My child?
_Alc._ The priest has made us one.
_Pel._ What priest? Who dared
Defile the altar with such rite?
_Alc._ [_Rising_] Defile?
Though you're my Phania's father, you shall cast
No stain upon that holy ceremony
Whose odor yet is round us. Sir, the priest
Has blessed us. Do you as you please. Come, Phania!
Come, sweet! We'll smile at this. Though a father's curse
Bethorn our way, a gentler heaven will drop
Its soft approval where thy feet must pass. [_Going_]
_Pel._ Speak, Stesilaus! Stop your wretched son!
_Alc._ Not wretched, sir, while Phania is my own.
We shall be blest when you, too late, beseech
Unhearing gods forgive you this!
_Pel._ Stay, sir!
O, miserable boy!
_Pha._ No, father, no!
He's happy in my love as leaf in air,
As the sea-crystalled fish, as lotos in
Its pool,--and I--O, sir, my joy has wings,
And tho' I love you dear and daughterly,--
Who gave me life,--your anger has no weight
To keep my feet on earth. Like twirling lark
Too high for storm to reach, I dance above
Displeasure's cloud. [_Trips off with Alcanor_]
_Pel._ Sweet wretches! Here's a turn!
My little Phania! Friend, what shall we do?
_Ste._ Again the finger of the gods.
_Pel._ The gods
To limbo! I will save my daughter!
_Ste._ Yours?
_Pel._ Yea, by each hour of prattle at my knee!
By all my care that's been her constant nurse,
And every joy that from devotion sprang
To meet me like a flower as she grew,
She's mine, mine, mine! Oh, Stesilaus, oh,
Whosever she may be, I love the chick,
And she shall not be damned!
[_Enter, upper left, Sachinessa and Archippe_]
_Ste._ Here's a reproach
Comes with a dual mouth. If we show doubt,
They'll put us under pestle. Rally, sir!
_Sac._ [_To Archippe_] Are you all lump? Pick up your courage. Why!
The gods are gods by their audacity.
I'll bring it off. Now, Pelagon?
_Pel._ [_Who has turned to flee_] What, you,
My love?
_Sac._ Such heavy news! Enough to make
The gods no more co-venture with a world
Augmented so!
_Pel._ What, Sachinessa, what?
_Sac._ Our Phania's married to Alcanor.
_Pel._ Eh?
_Sac._ Now are you pleased? Now is your cruelty
Full-fed, or must it glut again?
_Pel._ My sweet----
_Sac._ You'll meddle with high Zeus! Have you enough?
_Pel._ Oh, Sachinessa!
_Sac._ Brother and sister bound
In an abhorrent union that will drive
Their shades forever from Elysian ground!
Nay, even Hades will make fast her gates
'Gainst such offenders, innocently vile!
Archippe, speak to that unbending man,
Half author of this shame! I'd thin his beard
If Heaven had mocked me with his long, smug face
For husband! Ugh! The whiskered horse!
_Arc._ Dumb, sir?
You've no defence?--no master argument
To prove your wisdom's never off the road
To Zeus' gate? Not once in all your life,
Although your daughter's to her brother wedded?
_Ste._ 'Tis well. I can not doubt the gods.
[_They stare at him_]
_Arc._ Her brother born?
So foul a hap?
_Ste._ A thing too dread in thought,
And in the act unutterable if Zeus
Be unconcerned in it. Therefore believe
His hand here moves, and holy majesty
O'errules the mortal scruple, so dividing
This horror from its kind. May it not be
The blood of Stesilaus hath in 'ts flow
A heavenly tinct that makes it not a sin,
But rather virtue, to keep pure the stream
From baser founts? They've done no more than kings
And gods before them.
_Sac._ Pelagon, _your_ croak!
_Pel._ I take a lower ground, my dearest dove.
All Athens knows me modest----
_Sac._ Ay to that!
Can blush as deep as any crow that flies!
_Pel._ Now, now! From first to last I've held it truth
That breeding scantles birth, and on that count
Make Phania our daughter.
_Sac._ Oh, you do?
_Pel._ I stand on this, that training is the man.
Or woman, let us say, and not the blood
We buried with our fathers. So these two
Mate not ancestrally, but in their lives
That distantly upbred have not between them
A structural thread to bind them of one house.
_Sac._ What men are these?
_Arc._ I am no more afraid
Of him I thought was Stesilaus.
_Ste._ Listen,
You women. Though we are thus righted----
_Sac._ Humph!
_Ste._ In man's and Heaven's eye, we yet will bow
To your own wish in this. As once we gave
Your sighs the right of way, we now will ease
This second woe by taking swiftest means
To part this clucking pair.
_Sac._ You'll yield to _us_?
_Arc._ How like you, Sachinessa, this high place
Above the gods?
_Sac._ They shall be parted?
_Ste._ Ay,
We do consent.
_Sac._ Nay, you shall please yourselves.
For my own part, I will not break their bonds
And set their hearts a-bleeding.
_Arc._ No, nor I.
_Ste._ How now, vapidity?
_Arc._ I mean, my lord,
You have convinced me, and this marriage bond
Shall be as Zeus has made it.
_Sac._ Pelagon,
Your reason captures mine, and I repent
My mockery. This strange event's no more
Uncouth, now you have pried the way for me
To wisdom's bed of truth. I clearly see
Thai man and woman of one mother born
May be no kin. The marriage shall stand.
_Pel._ In name of Zeus!
_Arc._ Yes, in his name.
_Ste._ Nay, wife,
We know your simple heart, and read its horror
Through this pretence so suddenly clapped on.
We shall reject a forced and sad submission----
_Pel._ Ay, ay, we shall! I'll act at once, and stop
Their kisses, riveting a bond unblessed----
_Sac._ Unblessed?
_Pel._ My golden joy, I speak your thought
Not mine.
[_A clamor in street_]
_Ste._ They come for us.
_Pel._ I hear my name.
We'll out and greet them.
_Ste._ No, my friend.
Let them come in unnoted.
_Pel._ Ay, we'll sit
Withdrawn, in gentle argument. Here's shade.
[_They go aside. Enter Lysander, Agis, Creon, Menas, and a score of
Spartans and Athenians_]
_Lys._ Is Stesilaus here? We must be heard.
_Arc._ He's here.
_Menas._ And Pelagon! Where's Pelagon?
_Sac._ His good ear's toward, sir.
_Pel._ [_Unable to keep aside_] Did I not hear
My name?
_Sac._ Why, so I said.
_Agis._ [_Advancing to Stesilaus_] My lord, we come----
_Ste._ What haste, good Agis? Goes the world so fast?
_Agis._ As fast as Fate can drive it, and you, my lord,
Are under foot.
_Pel._ [_Who has been listening to Menas_] You hear it, Stesilaus!
Athens is ashes! We're betrayed, betrayed!
[_Biades, Pyrrha, Phania, Alcanor, and their companions
swarm in, lower right_]
_Ste._ Silence, and let us hear! Now, Agis, speak.
_Agis._ And grieve that 'tis my part. The Spartans know
Your treachery----
_Ste._ Who dares to give such a name
To deed of mine?
_Agis._ Denial comes too far
Behind the proof, my lord.
_Ste._ The proof? What proof?
_Lys._ 'Tis known to all. The very curb cries out
That Pyrrha is Athenian born, the child
Of Pelagon.
_Pyrr._ Oh, Zeus!
_Bia._ Bear up, my Pyrrha!
_Agis._ Ay, Athens weds with Athens, and on that
You build the peace of Sparta! A bold deceit
Of yours and Pelagon's, whereby we're sold
To a foeman's pleasure!
_A Spartan._ Though the heart of Athens
Be in the knot that binds your traitorous bargain,
We'll cut it through!
_Agis._ Will you deny you changed
Your babes in cradle?
[_Silence_]
_Bia._ Pray you, who revealed
This ancient secret?
_Menas._ Creon came----
_Bia._ Ah, Creon!
_Menas._ Before the senate, then in seat to unfold
From rivalrous invention, topless honors
For these two lords, whose guilt had long devoured
Such labor's root and reason.
_Bia._ Creon came?
_Menas._ And bared the tale, made his by accident,
And swore you knew it too,--that Pyrrha there
Is Pelagon's daughter, and Phania is the child
Of Spartan Stesilaus.
_Pha._ Oh, oh, oh!
_Alc._ A rope for me then!
_Cre._ [_To Biades_] Sir, I did not speak,
But trusted all to you, until the secret
Laid night on Phania's innocence and grew
Too foul to keep.
_Pyrr._ You knew this, Biades?
_Bia._ And knew you would forgive!
_Pyrr._ This was the spring
Of all your oaths! In my espoused hand
You'd lay my country's peace, knowing her name
Was Attica! This was your proof of love.
The oiled wedge that let you in my heart!
False in the trothal moment that should make
The foulest for an instant pure!
_Bia._ But hear----
_Pyrr._ Oh, in that hour which women wrap in rose
And hide where thoughts like guardian doves may go,
You set a cautel touching it with death
That leaves me treasureless!
_Bia._ My Pyrrha,----
_Pyrr._ Not yours!
_Bia._ Howe'er 'twas done, I won you!
_Pyrr._ Won a Spartan!
Now keep the shadow. As an Athenian maid
I do renounce you! [_Escapes him_]
_Bia._ Ah! Zeus loves the dice.
He's always at the game. But who'd have thought
This throw would be against me? Hear me, sweet!
[_To Stesilaus_]
Dear father, speak to her. She'll heed your voice,
Your judgment ripe, and words set out like cups
With wisdom's honey.
_Pel._ [_Awake to fathership_] Ay, my son, I will!
_Bia._ Not you, in name of hope! [_Follows Pyrrha_]
_Alc._ Monsters of fatherhood, how dare you show
Your faces in this sun? Go seek some cave
Whose darkest den will not betray a shame
Of its own hue! No, Phania, do not cling
To my unwilling breast that now must be
A hedge of swords to your bird bosom. [_Holds her tightly_]
_Pha._ Oh!
_Cre._ Withdraw your hand, proud Spartan!
_Alc._ I will protect
My sister, sir, from any lord of Athens!
_Sac._ Look, Pelagon,--and Stesilaus,--here!
Look on this warbling joy hatched tenderly
In nest of your conceit, which you've kept warm
Forgetting you had hearts where love bechid
Sat in unfeathered cold. If you are fathers,
Drink of their ecstasy till every vein
Applauds it!
_Lys._ Pray you, peace! The Senators!
[_Enter Amentor and other Senators_]
_Ste._ What's your demand?
_Amen._ Your life, Lord Stesilaus.
And that of Pelagon, in Athens' name.
_Pel._ My life?
_Amen._ Not less will still this wind and save
Our homes from undefended sack. They've seized
The citadel----
_Bia._ Then on my armor! Wife
May whistle when the bugle calls!
_Amen._ Stay, sir!
The Spartans are in power, and any check
Means slaughter. There's no help. The Persian fleet
Has sailed. The Athenians drop their useless arms
And follow at command, knowing no way
To win but by a bloodless yielding.
_Bia._ Yield!
_Amen._ Sir, we must grant the Spartans these two lives,
Whereon they'll strike no further. So they swear.
_Sac._ [_To Pelagon_] This is your downy Peace wooed from the clouds
To hover over Athens! Save the name!
She's from a briar-patch, not Heaven! Her wings
Are full of burrs!
_Bia._ [_Holding Pelagon_] Stand to! A scuttled ship
Has no choice deck. There's nothing to be saved
But dignity.
_Pel._ Nay, that's for Stesilaus! [_Breaking away_]
My life, my life!
[_Noise mounts without. The wall is broken through, rear, and the
breach reveals the street filled with angry Spartans_]
_Amen._ Peace!
_Gir._ Give us Stesilaus!
_Voices._ And Pelagon! The traitors! Give them up!
_Amen._ You see them. There they stand.
[_Misses Pelagon_]
Where's Pelagon?
_Voices._ We have him here! Bring Stesilaus!
_Arc._ Hold!
I am Archippe. Let me speak.
_Voices._ No mercy!
_Arc._ I ask none, friends. The wife of Stesilaus
Is not so much in 's debt she owes him aught
On mercy's score.
_Gir._ Then speak.
_Arc._ Is Philon here?
The reverend priest?
_Voices._ He comes! Make way! He's here!
[_Philon comes out_]
_Philon._ Speak first, Archippe. I'll follow you.
_Arc._ My friends,
I'm such a one as you do most contemn,--
A woman disobedient to her lord.
But if you judgment give upon that point,
Remember that my lord is Stesilaus.
When this my daughter here,--yes, Pyrrha, she,--
Child of my nurturing blood,----
_Voices._ What? What? Your child?
_Amen._ Silence! Speak on, Archippe.
_Arc._ When she lay
A morsel cradled, two months' breath in her,
Came he, the father, swearing she must go
To Sachinessa's breast, and I must take
Her Phania to my own,--thereby to serve
In some occulted way the future good
Of Greece. And all the mercy won from him
Was leave to journey with my child to Athens----
_Sac._ But I was not so meek! By Pallas, no!
What--who--was Pelagon, to rob my bosom
Of Hera's gift? Who made him greater than
The gods? 'Tis but a girl, he said, to me,
A mother! I went to Philon then, the priest
Whom Athens honors, and by holy counsel,
We did not change our babes, but let our deed
Wear face that pleased them, with a heart our own,
And home Archippe went with Pyrrha safe,
While I in Athens held my Phania close.
And they, fond sires, who knew no difference
Between a _girl_ and _girl_, hugged their deep plan
And built the phantom of united Greece
Upon it.
_Arc._ If those ghostly towers, now fallen,
May rise again, it is our act, my lords,
Provides them nature's base, and not a dream's.
Condemn us, if you will, as erring wives,
But as true mothers give us softer justice.
And if there's scale or balance that can hold
Such torturous weight, lay on it all the pain
Of lonely years that saw me turn my face
From my loved daughter, lest this man of rock
Should know her mine and his.
_Pyrr._ Your own, your own,
My mother!
_Ste._ So you slip me, dame,
And Pyrrha goes with you. But Biades
Is under thumb by this same turn. He now
Must know himself a Spartan, and shall keep
My terms.
_Arc._ Make them full easy. You shall lay
No marring hand upon our children's joy
As fell on mine.
_Bia._ O, sue for me, Archippe!
Give me my bride! Whatever be her race,
Her home is in my arms!
_Arc._ Forgive him, Pyrrha.
Not for his pleading, but for love I know
You bear him.
[_Pyrrha permits Biades to embrace her_]
_Alc._ [_To Phania_] Sweet, we know our heaven by
Those moments in a hell.
_Amen._ Here's feast enough!
_Bia._ But poor old Creon in this rain of porridge
Starves for a spoon.
_Cre._ And you, perforce, take one
Of Spartan make.
_Bia._ I'm caught. But in love's lap.
I'll swallow Sparta for so dear a bed.
_Menas._ And you need fear no distaff tyranny,
My lord. There you are safe. Although your bride
Be Hera-limbed, you've proved yourself her Zeus
In open match.
_Cre._ How if her moved heart
Crept to her arm and slipped the victory
Unwon to love?
[_Biades is suddenly embarrassed_]
_Pyrr._ [_With a caress of assurance_] If that were so, my lords,
My pride would harbor his, and none should know
My secret.
_Ste._ Senators, and men of Athens,
Art dumb when justice waits on you for voice?
What censure have you for these rebel wives,
And this unsainted priest?
_Amen._ [_To Philon_] You counselled them
To their deceit?
_Philon._ I did.
_Amen._ You've no defence?
_Philon._ I need none.
_Ste._ Ha!
_Philon._ Whoso reveres the gods
Draws of their strength in every mortal inch,
And in this act I did them reverence,
Standing between their wish and meddling wits
Of these presumptive men. But pardon them.
For it is shame enough to've thought to make
A frislet of their own shake like the locks
Of cloud-haired Zeus. For me, my hand is on
My altar, and I fear no fall.
_Amen._ No more,
Good Philon.
_Philon._ Ay, a word, This morning, sir,
I blessed the couple here, knowing them free
Of kindred blood,--Alcanor and his Phania.
The strands are doubly woven that now bind
Sparta and Athens. Pyrrha and Biades
Were first to link them one, and now this pair
Unites them o'er.
_Amen._ You hear, my Spartan friends.
What say you? Is it peace?
_Spartans._ Peace be to Athens!
_Amen._ And peace to Sparta! Hearts and altars guard it!
Go, citizens! See that the chariots
Glow with new garlands for this double bridal.
And let the noble wives of these proud lords
Co-queen festivity. All shall rejoice
Save this convicted pair,--you, Pelagon,
And Stesilaus. You we prison here,
Your own sole company, nor shall you speak
Save in a rhyme now dim with little use,
But shall be better known from this day forth
With polish you shall give it. Hear it, sirs:
_The man who would his own pie bake_
_Must from his wife ten fingers take._
[_Curtain falls and rises. Pelagon and Stesilaus are discovered,
their backs to each other, the only occupants of the garden.
Through the breach in the wall the festal procession is seen
passing. Curtain_]
* * * * *
KIDMIR
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS
_CHARACTERS_
OSWALD, _Earl of Clyffe_
BERTRAND, _sometime_ VAIRDELAN, _his son_
CHARILUS, _a Greek_
ARDIA, _his daughter_
BIONDEL _and_ VIGARD, _sons of Charilus_
BANISSAT, _Prince of Avesta_
PRINCE FREDERICK
BERENICE, _his daughter_
GAINA, _serving-woman to Ardia_
BARCA, _servant to Charilus_
RAMUNIN, _a headsman_
SEVEN MAIDENS, _friends of Ardia_
_Followers of Banissat, soldiers of Oswald, nobles, wedding-guests,
dancers, guards, &c._
Time: _During the later Crusades_
Place: _The southern coast of Asia Minor_
ACT I
SCENE: _A hall in the castle of Charilus on the heights of Kidmir. The
open rear, through which is seen a sunset sky, leads to a parapet
overlooking the city of Avesta and the coast of Suli. Entrances right
and left of parapet. Midway down, right, the door to a chamber._
_Charilus stands on parapet and looks down toward Avesta. Barca waits
within the hall._
_Char._ O, sea-washed city, must the hail of fire
Crimson thy milky walls, and salt winds strive
In vain to sweeten ditches dark with blood
From thy tapped heart? Come, Barca, be my eyes,
Who climbs the heights?
[_Barca advances and looks over_]
_Barca._ Lords Vigard and Biondel
Are on the pass.
_Char._ My sons so soon returned!
No other?
_Barca._ Farther down, my lord, I see
The knight, Sir Vairdelan.
_Char._ Then we shall hear
His sunset song.
_Barca._ The stairway through the cliff
Is closed. Shall I give signal, sir, to hoist
The upper gate?
_Char._ That is my charge henceforth. [_Going left_]
They will be hungered. [_Turns to Barca_]
Scant the board in nothing. [_Exit left_]
[_Gaina enters, right, rear, carrying a tray piled with candles_]
_Gaina._ Thank goodness, Barca, you're where you're wanted for once!
Help me with these winkers. [_Giving him candles_] My mistress kept me
out on the cliffs when I ought to 'a' been inside an hour ago doing my
honest work. I got her in at last, but I had to be round with her, poor
soul! I told her what!
_Barca._ [_Placing candles_] She was watching for her brothers?
_Gaina._ [_Puts tray down_] Brothers! It was a sight of that singing
knight she wanted. He went down the pass this morning and she has gone
about all day like a bird with a sore throat.
_Barca._ God gave her eyes, and Sir Vairdelan is good to see. When I
look at him I feel somehow as if the sun were just up and everybody had
another chance.
_Gaina._ A man who lets his sword rust at home while he goes about
tootle-de-rooling on a flute! And she could be the princess of Avesta
if she'd look in the right place. Well, if she had _my_ eyes!
_Barca._ What! You would have your mistress marry Banissat? An
unbeliever?
_Gaina._ A prince is a prince,--and I'd say the same if my mistress
were my own daughter.
_Barca._ And you a Christian!
_Gaina._ A Christian of Corinth, I'd have you know. There are Christians
and Christians, please you! And for my mistress, dear heart, it would
take more than marrying a prince to send her to--to----
_Barca._ Let it out.
_Gaina._ Hell, then,--if you want to bite ginger. And who but Banissat
can stand between her father and that English Oswald--who is just plain
devil and not an Englishman at all----
_Barca._ Devil? A knight of the Cross leading the army of the Lord to
Jerusalem.
_Gaina._ Nobody but the devil, I tell you! And I wouldn't speak to him
if I met him walking with Saint Peter, unless he showed me his bare feet
with ten good toes on 'em. It might be all right for Peter, but a woman
can't be too careful, and the master took me out of a good family in
Corinth. And this Vairdelan who is no more a knight than I'm a lady--the
next time he goes down the pass he will lose his way up again, or my
head's a goose-egg, that's all!
_Barca._ Gently, Gaina. You were young once.
_Gaina._ Once? I've more hairs than wrinkles yet, which some can't say
and tell the truth!
_Barca._ Tongue in! Here's the master. [_Moves right_]
_Gaina._ My candles!
[_Seizes tray and goes out, right, as Charilus re-enters left_]
_Char._ [_To Barca_] Look to the supper.
[_Exit Barca, right. Charilus crosses to parapet and looks down_]
Doubt-blown city, rest.
Sleep on my heart. You shall not bleed for me.
[_Enter Ardia from chamber midway right_]
_Ard._ Alone, my father?
_Char._ Never alone, and yet
My wish was calling thee. [_Sits, and draws her beside him_]
_Ard._ Ah, not one guard
About thee?
_Char._ The only guard is always near,--
A fearless heart.
_Ard._ Then I have none. My heart
Is made of fears.
_Char._ No charm but love will lift
Our gates of rock.
_Ard._ But who knows love from hate
In days like these? Some foe with friendship's eyes,
Some secret knife of Oswald's----
_Char._ None may tread
The guarded pass save our knight Vairdelan
And your two brothers.
_Ard._ Vairdelan is late.
Why went he down?
_Char._ Knights true as he, my girl,
Are never questioned.
_Ard._ [_Starting_] Who are at the gates?
_Char._ Your brothers come.
_Ard._ So soon? That means good news
From Banissat. He'll be your strength against
This mighty Oswald.
_Char._ Fair his word may be,
But I go down the pass.
_Ard._ Go down? To meet
That fiend?
_Char._ The man who calls himself my foe,
But named of God my brother.
_Ard._ O, too much
Thou lovest love! A fiend, I say!
_Char._ That name
Give unto me when I consent to piece
This spun-out life with breath of babes and gasp
Of dying mothers. Would you feed these veins,
Gelid and old, all golden venture done,
With the warm waste of youth whose saved stream
Might bear mankind unto the port of gods?
_Ard._ But you--you are my father!
_Char._ It is such cries
Unsettle justice till her shaken scales
Weigh nations 'gainst a heart.
_Ard._ Must I not love you?
_Char._ My Ardia, fair as though thou wert not mine,
Or wert all hers who made gray Corinth young,
The love that feeds behind a sheltered door
Must be unroofed and take its bread of stars
Ere it may answer to its holy name.
The heart must build no walls----
_Ard._ I build them not,
But find them risen about me. You are here,
Guardful and best, fending my eyes,--there stands
My Biondel,--there Vigard brave,--and there....
_Char._ And there, my daughter?
_Ard._ Hark! 'Tis Vairdelan's voice!
[_Singing heard below_]
O fires that build upon the sea
Till wave and foam of ye are part,
And burn in mated ecstasy,
Ye build again within my heart.
O clouds that breathe in flame and run
In linked dreams along the sky
In me the fire is never done,
Though Eve's gray hand soon puts ye by.
Christ be my Hand of Eve upon
The flame that tireless, fadeless leaps!
Haste holily, O Mary's moon,
With dew for fire that never sleeps!
[_Ardia keeps a listening attitude, not heeding the entrance of her
brothers who come on left_]
_Char._ Well, sons?
_Bion._ Ay, well! That is the word we bring.
Avesta's prince, the gracious Banissat,
Is now your sworn defender.
_Ard._ [_Turning_] And asks no price?
_Bion._ No more than your fair self, my sister.
_Vig._ [_As Ardia stands silent_] You doubt?
'Tis true. He'll make you princess!
_Ard._ He is old....
_Bion._ What call you old? He's in the fairest top
Of manhood.
_Vig._ Old!
_Ard._ And cannot sing....
_Vig._ Not sing!
_Ard._ What need have we of him? Can Oswald scale
These rock-barred heights?
_Vig._ Starvation can.
_Ard._ We've food
Will last three harvest moons.
_Bion._ And Oswald camps
Where plain and sea will feed ten thousand men
As many years.
_Vig._ While here our skeletons
With bleached grin may watch the feast below!
_Ard._ To starve ... is that so terrible? 'Tis but
One way of dying.
_Vig._ Dying?
_Char._ Say no more.
The morrow's dawn shall light my way to Oswald.
_Bion._ You'll go to him? Then death!
_Vig._ [_To Ardia_] See what you do?
_Ard._ Forgive me. [_Runs to her father and clings to him_]
Now! Bind me to Banissat.
_Char._ Nay, thou art free.
_Bion._ [_To Ardia_] Our lives shall thank you.
_Vig._ Thanks?
You speak her part.
[_Ardia leaves her father and moves to edge of parapet_]
_Bion._ [_Following her_] Dost know a better way?
_Ard._ I pray you, leave me.
_Vig._ Princess of Avesta!
_Ard._ Your supper waits.
_Vig._ [_Starting right_] Come, brother!
_Char._ Though I've supped,
I'll sit with you, my sons. Discourse is ever
The best dish at the board.
_Bion._ We thank you, sir.
[_Exeunt Biondel, Vigard, Charilus, right_]
_Ard._ And am I wooed and won? Dreams of a dream,
Where are ye now?... A lover with no song.
No carols stealing sweetness from the moon;
No trembling hand to drop a morning rose
Where I may walk.
[_Takes a rose from her bosom and casts it away_]
No rose.... no Vairdelan!
[_Re-enter Gaina_]
_Gaina._ Here, mistress? Dearie dear, a-weeping?
_Ard._ No.
_Gaina._ Say you were, 'twere a better sight than this fetching of dry
sighs. They 'most take the skin of a woe that a little tear-water would
bring up easy enough.
_Ard._ O, Gaina, Gaina, did you see my mother buried?
_Gaina._ Ay, 'twas a sweet grave we laid her in over in Corinth. You'll
never make as pretty a corpse, my dear.
_Ard._ Was I there?
_Gaina._ Troth, you were, and trouble enough you gave me. You wanted to
climb into the coffin and go to sleep too, you said.
_Ard._ O, had you buried me with her I should not have seen this day!
_Gaina._ Most like you wouldn't. Come, honey dove, come to your room and
brighten yourself a bit. There's the new veil just begging to be looked
at. I'll put it on you, and----
_Ard._ No, I don't want you. [_Going, right_]
_Gaina._ O, ho, I can read his name you do want, and not kill a bird for
it either.
_Ard._ [_Turning_] Who, magpie? Who?
_Gaina._ Your eyes may save my tongue if they squint sou'west.
_Ard._ Is he coming?
_Gaina._ Who, my cuckoo? Who?
[_Bertrand enters left. Ardia starts off right_]
_Ber._ Ardia!
_Ard._ [_Weakly, pausing at her door_] Vairdelan....
_Ber._ Will not you stay?
_Ard._ I will return. [_Exit_]
_Ber._ Your mistress is not well?
_Gaina._ You've eyes, sir.
_Ber._ This fear of Oswald----
_Gaina._ Her trouble's nearer home, sir.
_Ber._ Her father----
_Gaina._ Nay, it wears no beard, though it may in time.
_Ber._ What troubles her, dear Gaina?
_Gaina._ A man, my lord.
_Ber._ A man!
_Gaina._ There, don't feel for your sword, for that's at home, and I
never heard yet of spitting a man with a flute, though it may e'en go
to the heart of a woman if she be young and soft like my mistress.
_Ber._ The truth, Gaina!
_Gaina._ I can spare it, sir. My master's daughter is so in love with
you----
_Ber._ Angels do not love!
_Gaina._ That may be. I'm speaking of my mistress, "Magpie!" Not meaning
you, sir.
_Ber._ She can not love me!
_Gaina._ That's what I said--at first. A roaming creature with only his
cloak for shelter, though it's a good gentleman's weave, I'll allow, and
I know you'll go away before her poor heart gets too heavy for carrying.
It's nigh that now, and before you came it was so light she was tripping
and chirping till I could 'a' sworn she had no heart at all--just toes
and wings. And now, dear soul,--but you'll go, sir? You know you'd have
to hunt the door soon enough if her brothers got a breath of what's
between you.
_Ber._ There's nothing between us!
_Gaina._ A bat could see it by daylight. It's been in your eyes all the
time.
_Ber._ I never meant it!
_Gaina._ Shame to you then. You'll go, sir?
_Ber._ Yes, yes, yes!
_Gaina._ Here's my lady. Now don't tell her you're going. Just go.
_Ber._ Just ... go.
_Gaina._ [_At right_] Ay, you've got it.
[_Exit Gaina as Ardia re-enters_]
_Ard._ My brothers are at supper. Will you join them,
Or do you fast?
_Ber._ I fast.
_Ard._ A stern religion
Is yours, my friend.
_Ber._ I've chosen it. Ardia,
You know me for a knight.
_Ard._ [_Softly_] Who wears no sword.
_Ber._ But in the English isle where I was born,
I was a monk ... and true. True am I now,
Save that my cell is what men call the world.
_Ard._ Spare speech and me. I know the rest.
_Ber._ Your prayers
Then be my bond that Christ may search my heart
And find no part not his.
_Ard._ No prayer of mine
Shall fetter youth to bloodless vows. And you
Look not as one faith-leeched of life. Your cheek
Is sudden gray, not changeless pale. 'Tis hued
Like rebel morning pushing back a dawn
Too eager for its peace. A monk. Our ways
Part as our souls. Know you I am to wed
Prince Banissat? So dumb?
My father comes!
[_Meets Charilus re-entering and leads him to a seat_]
Our guest was telling me of English days.
Now you change tongue with him and speak the tale
You promised yester night. Why does this Oswald,
This war-mad lord of England, on his way
To free the holy tomb, forget his path
And turn his army's strength against a man
No greater than thyself?
_Char._ Yes, you shall know.
_Ard._ At last!
_Char._ For morning parts us.
_Ard._ Oh! Not that!
_Ber._ Shall I go in, my lord?
_Char._ Nay, Vairdelan.
I'd have thee hear. Thou thinkest me a man
Of holy heart.
_Ard._ Ah, who does not?
_Char._ There's one
Has cause for doubt. 'Twas I who slew in rage
Earl Oswald's father.
_Ard._ You? These hands?
_Char._ These hands.
_Ber._ I've heard 'twas so.
_Ard._ You've heard?
_Char._ 'Tis thirty years
Since Oswald, with his father, John of Clyffe,
Marched in Red Giles' crusade. You know of that?
_Ber._ My grandsire captained there.
_Char._ I served not Christ,
At least as they, with pillage, fire and rape.
But there were some among the English youths
Who took my heart, and Oswald was my choice
Of all who camped before the holy gates.
_Ard._ That man!
_Char._ I, too, was young ... and I was wed.
Not to my Ardia's mother, but to her
Whose heart yet boldly beats in my two sons.
In her strange beauty John of Clyffe found death.
He sought her, and I slew him. When his blood
Ran at my feet, I fled,--not from the swords
Hot on my path, but from that stream of blood.
_Ard._ Dear, dear my father! 'Twas a world ago!
_Char._ I was not of the many who can kill
And laugh again, nor yet of hermit-heart.
But for myself had made a gentle god
Whom my soul served.
_Ber._ I know, my lord, that sweet
Idolatry, and dream what thou didst suffer
So shaken from it.
_Char._ Far as man knows the world
I fled the scarlet stream that followed me,
And on the skyward slope of Himalay,
Between the white of snows and blue of heaven,
Saw it no more.
_Ard._ [_Kissing his hands_] O, white, forgiven hands!
_Char._ There, near to God as man may come nor lose
The body's mould, I saw in solvent thought
That knows not time, a sinless star,--this earth
That shall be. Back unto my world I came,
And that my dream might live I lived my dream,
Servant to love even where the slaves of hate
Whet sword and knife.
_Ard._ O, true!
_Ber._ 'Tis sung of thee!
_Char._ Now am I old, but love does not deny me
One service more. To-morrow I shall go
To die at Oswald's feet----
_Ber._ [_Eagerly_] You will go down?
_Ard._ No, no! He shall not go! Prince Banissat
Will save him! He has promised!
_Ber._ [_Gazing at Ardia_] Banissat?
So 'twas a bargain. Thou'rt fair goods to be
On th' vender's table. [_Turns to Charilus_] You choose well, my lord.
_Ard._ What words!
_Ber._ I bring a message from th' earl.
_Ard._ From Oswald? [_Shrinking_] You know him?
_Ber._ If any man
May know him,--but I better know his son.
_Ard._ The vicious Bertrand?
_Ber._ Vicious?
_Ard._ O, so foul
He shuns the day, and walks on moonless nights
Most like his soul!
_Ber._ You speak of Bertrand?
_Ard._ Ay!
More wolfish than his father,--beast whose sword
Should be his body's part as tigers wear
Their claws from birth!
_Ber._ A bold delusion this!
_Char._ She speaks untempered rumor. Slander, sir,
Is out of breath with sporting Bertrand's name,
And giveth way to winds that blow it past
Belief's last border.
_Ard._ Slander?
_Ber._ What will shake
These fancies from your heart?
_Ard._ A miracle.
Naught less.
_Ber._ Hard terms. [_Turns to Charilus_] I know this Bertrand well.
If any happy merit in myself
Has won your love, bestow the same on him.
What I may share is his.
_Char._ Here's living hope!
_Ber._ He, like myself, was cloister-bred, and passed
Peaceful, uncounted days until the death
Of his three brothers, slain in one mad hour.
Earl Oswald then bethought him of the son
So early given to Christ. "I have no heir,"
He said, "but God lacks not for monks." And straight
With power and gold bought full release for Bertrand,
Save that release his soul and God might give.
_Char._ You make me love his story.
_Ber._ True to peace
Even in the camp of war, he lives withdrawn,
And so gives Rumor sweep for what she would,
While in her swollen report the earl conceals
His monkish son's true nature.
_Char._ I'll know this youth!
_Ber._ He keeps his tent by day, and steals at night
To forest glens, his armor but a cloak,
His sword a flute----
_Ard._ O, light from Heaven!
_Ber._ Sometimes
He farther goes, even far as Kidmir heights,
And at the feet of Charilus he learns
A love more true than fane and cloister taught,--
The love that made the houseless, barefoot Christ,
With open breast to all unbrothered woe,--
And now he kneels and of that gentlest love
Asks pardon.
_Char._ Bertrand, son of Oswald, rise.
There's no forgiving in the sinless star.
_Ber._ [_Rising, to Ardia_] And you?
_Ard._ Ah ... when I've breath!
_Ber._ What I have said,
My lord, makes way for what is yet to say.
To-day I waited by Avesta's gate
For this [_taking out paper_] my father's word, response to mine
Sent days ago to him. Here, sir, he says: [_Reads_]
"Son of my hope, your words are not more strange to me than these I
write with my own hand. If Charilus will come to Suli Castle, the which
my swords have taken while you sang and slept, my door shall open to him
as Kidmir gates have opened unto you. By Christ, I swear the treatment
that he gave my blood he shall have again from me. But if he come not
down, then shall I reach him through Avesta's heart, and the love he now
spurns will be cold in my sword. Despatch this, I pray you, for I would
hasten to Jerusalem, leaving you my conquered princedom, whose head is
Ilon and whose foot is the city of Ramoor. Thine as thy heart speaks,
Oswald."
_Char._ Your father's hand?
_Ber._ Doubt flies from it, although
The vein is alien, sir. It is his hand.
And, I do think, his heart, wherein, my lord,
Your gentleness to me, like creeping rain,
Has moistened love's dry root, whose pent-up bloom
Is by that nurture freed, and magical
Now glows before us.
_Char._ This I would believe. [_Starts off right_]
Vigard and Biondel must have this news
From my slow lips, lest with the sudden truth
They strike ablaze. They have their mother's fire.
Albanian Gartha was not one to die
And leave her sons no part in her wild race. [_Exit_]
_Ber._ You are not Gartha's daughter?
_Ard._ No, my lord.
Claris of Corinth bore me, and my flame
Is joy, not anger. O, this miracle
You've wrought for me!
_Ber._ I wrought?
_Ard._ 'Tis no less strange
When God through his bare tool reveals his hand,
Than when invisible his power stirs
And makes a chasm in sense. So when you stood
Before me, Bertrand's self, with yet the voice,
The eyes, the heart of Vairdelan, I knew
That was my miracle. O Heaven-sign
At which my world grew blithe and shook May-boughs
With birds in every branch!
_Ber._ You've no more fear
For Charilus?
_Ard._ None, none.
Nor for myself.
_Ber._ Yourself?
_Ard._ O, seems no soul need trouble now
In this vast world!
[_Re-enter Charilus and sons_]
_Bion._ You are not Vairdelan?
_Vig._ You're Bertrand, Oswald's son?
_Ber._ 'Tis true.
_Vig._ That truth
Should cut your throat, and I could lend my sword
For such a matter.
_Bion._ Come! What knightly plea
Coats this deceit with honor?
_Ber._ None, my lord.
If I've made trespass deeper than your love
Will bear me out, my hope is in your pardon.
_Bion._ A lie made you our guest, and guest you are
Until we meet on Suli plain.
_Char._ My son!
_Ard._ Call you that pardon, Biondel?
_Bion._ I speak
No pardon.
_Ard._ But you shall--you must. O, say it!
You know our father goes to Oswald.
_Vig._ Know
That fools and women talk! The gates are sealed.
_Bion._ I'll guard the pass against my father's self
If so much rudeness may make stand between
His death and life.
_Char._ My sons, I thank your love,
But I go down. The guards, the gates are mine,
And to my will they open.
_Vig._ 'Tis that girl,
That silvery Greek----
_Char._ If your quick blood must stir,
Let manners grace it.
_Ard._ O, my dearest brothers,
Do you not love me?
_Bion._ Better than you know.
We love you, serve you, though yourself obstruct
The way to safety.
_Vig._ You would trust the man
Who wrapped him in a lie to enter here?
Sat at our father's board and brake his bread
To feed an enemy?
_Ber._ The bread I brake
Fed friendship's heart in me, and made this roof
A temple. Do you not know me, Vigard?
_Vig._ Nay,
I knew a Vairdelan--you are not he.
_Bion._ If Oswald means no harm to Charilus,
Let him pass on. Jerusalem awaits
His savage sword.
_Char._ My son, that Oswald thus
Compels me to him is to me but proof
That hearts may greet above long years of hate.
In this I see Love beckoning Man across
The wastrel lands of war to fields unwet
With blood, to days----
_Vig._ Unhearted cowards then!
Praise Allah, we yet live where rapiers thresh
The fields of men and leave the bravest standing!
Is 't not the Prophet's word that Paradise
Lies 'neath the shade of swords?
_Char._ Allah be yours!
But I would walk beneath unrisen stars,
Beyond hate's eyeless clouds----
_Bion._ O, spare us, sir!
Each day brings its own sun, and by that light,
No other, men must walk. If this our time
Be dark to you, 'tis in your vision, not
In the lit heavens, from whose shoreless depth
No hook of prayer or prophecy may draw
One star before its hour. Pray you be done
With this moon madness. Banissat will meet
The force of Oswald. With the morn he comes
To seal his troth with Ardia----
_Char._ By no word
Of mine. If you have given him pledge, your honor
Shall dip to dust and drudge your forfeit out,
Ere virgin bondage pay it. Hark, Biondel,
And hear me, Vigard! I alone shall meet
Earl Oswald. If the blood I shed yet cries
For blood, here are the veins shall make it dumb.
_Bion._ But, sir,----
_Char._ No more. Your sister stays with you.
Regard her will, nor ope these doors unbidden
To Banissat.
_Ard._ I stay? O, never think
I shall not go with thee!
_Char._ You go?
_Ard._ I'm safe
With thee, my father. Here....
_Vig._ Here you have brothers!
_Ard._ I mean no slight upon you, but my fate
Keeps with my father.
_Char._ I should doubt the God
Who bids me go if I denied you this.
Thyself art Peace, and where thou goest moves
Her radiance. Make you ready. And good-night, all!
Sir Bertrand, know the sleep that fits the heart
For journeying. [_Exit right, rear_]
_Vig._ [_To Ardia_] There's one will stop your way--
Prince Banissat!
_Bion._ We'll send him word this hour,
For while the edge be on his sudden love
He'll thank us to be swift.
_Ber._ You loved me once,
My lords.
_Bion._ True, son of Oswald.
_Ber._ Though you used
Some bitter words, I know your inmost heart
Holds me a man undoubted. There I'm stamped
In honor's verity; and when I vow,
By my soul's faith, that Charilus is safe,
You know 'tis truth.
_Bion._ Be you our father's hostage,
If this mad thing must be. Stay you with us,
And we are silent.
_Ard._ Stay? You ask too much.
_Vig._ No fear, soft sister. Mark him. We're refused.
He'll stuff the air with words, not clear it with
One pinch of proof.
_Ber._ My lords, were I to stay,
'Twould make an act of faith lose point and purpose,
And blazon doubt before my father's face.
_Vig._ You mark?
_Ber._ 'Twould louder cry of war; uproot
Love's seedling in its tenderest hour, and make
Once more the bane and night-weed spring. But hear
An oath of mine. If Charilus meet harm
In Oswald's camp, I shall return and ask
The same stroke from your hands.
_Ard._ O, do not swear!
_Ber._ By every hope I have to enter Heaven,
By the right hand of God, by this white cross
That knew my mother's last, death-holy kiss,
By every sacred thing I know and love,
If Charilus comes up these heights no more,
Here shall I lay my life beneath your sword.
[_Barca re-enters right_]
_Barca._ [_To Bertrand_] The master asks a word with you, my lord.
[_Exit Bertrand with Barca_]
_Ard._ Will you accept his oath?
_Vig._ Go to your room.
_Bion._ We'll talk alone.
_Ard._ Nay, hear me first. You think
To force me to the arms of Banissat.
Give over that wild thought.
_Bion._ 'Twas not so wild
An hour ago.
_Ard._ Fate lifts the hand that laid
Compulsion on me. I am free. O, free!
No strait of life or death can make me less
Than mistress of myself.
_Bion._ Our destiny
Is bound with Banissat. Make him our foe,
And where shall we find peace? Not on these peaks.
_Ard._ Is he our jailer then? This Banissat?
Our prison his good favor? Nay, the world
Has many roads, and courage even yet
May blaze a new one.
_Bion._ Rooted life is best.
I am not one to make my bed on winds,
Or stroll the earth for fortune's grudged scraps
Snatched from a rapier's point.
_Ard._ Know this. My hand
Shall never lie in Banissat's. Give up
A hope so barren. There's better pasturage
For wits so bold as yours. Now Oswald holds
The breadth of Suli plain, the heights of Tor,
Winged by the sea from Ilon to Ramoor--
A principality whose circuit leaves
Avesta as a fly pinned to a wall.
_Vig._ What's Oswald's fief to us? We are no sons of his.
_Ard._ Lord Bertrand holds the princedom here
While Oswald goes to wars in Palestine.
_Bion._ He told you this?
_Ard._ Did you not read as much
In Oswald's letter? There 'twas plainly said.
_Bion._ Still is our surest hope with Banissat.
_Ard._ When Bertram! is your friend? O, more than friend!
A brother!
_Bion._ Ah ... do you say "brother"?
_Ard._ True
As though he had been born our father's son!
_Bion._ [_To Vigard_] You hear?
_Vig._ With more than ears.
_Bion._ We have been blind.
_Vig._ A brother!
_Bion._ All is clear enough, now that
We've eyes for it. Your pardon, sister.
_Ard._ Pardon?
_Bion._ Pray you! We thought your scorn of Banissat
Marked you of creeping spirit, when your aim
Shot o'er our lowered eyes.
_Vig._ Ay, she has sped
Before our boldest care of her, and left
Our duty lurching.
_Ard._ These are drunken words.
_Vig._ If you would wed Lord Bertrand,----
_Ard._ O, you think....
_Bion._ Your hope has shown its wing. Best bid it fly.
_Vig._ Speak without fear. This changes all.
_Ard._ You mean
You'll not delay us? You will let us go?
_Vig._ And speed you too! High stroke, this anxious hour
To journey in his care!
_Bion._ Yet shielded by
Our father's dignity.
_Ard._ How you mistake!
He does not woo me!
_Vig._ Now the modest foot!
But we have seen the other. Trust us, sister.
_Bion._ Mistake? I now recall his looks, his sighs,
As from a love immured,--his songs, too warm
For piety's cool breath,--and more that tends
To happy proof.
_Vig._ How dare he woo thee when
Mere Vairdelan? This blade had stood between!
_Bion._ Such beggar suit would then have cheapened thee
Beneath a prince's wearing. [_Leading her to door, right_]
No drooping now!
The way lies clear.
_Ard._ O, brother----
_Bion._ Get you in.
_Ard._ Will you not listen?
_Bion._ Leave your hope with us,
Your secret is our own. [_Closes door upon her_]
_Vig._ Here's change of sky.
You trust Lord Bertrand?
_Bion._ That is now our course.
Our father will go down.
_Vig._ What's in your heart?
I'll open mine.
_Bion._ I beg you do.
_Vig._ Ramoor
And Ilon now are crownless. Suli's prince
Must have new governors.
_Bion._ But Christian ones.
That bars our way.
_Vig._ The Prophet's cloak fits well
With any fortune.
_Bion._ Ah....
_Vig._ We've but to change
The color, not the cut.
_Bion._ [_Listening_] He comes!
_Vig._ We'll speak.
_Bion._ Not yet, my Vigard. Let this fruiting hope
Swell to a golden fall. Wait with the sun.
No green and forward plucking.
[_Re-enter Ardia_]
_Ard._ Hear me, brothers----
_Bion._ Not now. The prince!
[_Re-enter Bertrand, right_]
_Ber._ I pray your answer, friends.
Let us go down unhindered, and my oath
I leave with you, a hostage sure as though
With iron bonds you held my breathing form:
For in that oath I leave no treasure less
Than honor, knighthood, and what in me moves
Deathless to God.
_Bion._ It is enough. Our guest
Is free.
_Ber._ Once more my brothers!
_Bion._ Know us ever
By that dear name.
_Vig._ And this deep oath you take
For Charilus' sake, is sworn too for our sister?
_Ber._ For Ardia? No, my lord.
_Vig._ Do you say no?
_Ber._ I must so answer you. For the fell harm
That touches her would of myself make end.
My honor so impeached would cease to breathe
The air itself made foul. I could not come
Having no life to bring me.
_Bion._ We believe you.
Go with our father. Take our sister too.
And we upon these heights shall pray, as you
On Suli plain, that Charilus may see
His sons again.
_Ber._ Come, let him know! This wished
Obedience will give him sleep.
[_Exeunt Bertrand, Vigard, and Biondel, right rear_]
_Ard._ Is 't best
That Truth be dumb? I'll watch this weaving Fate,
And feed her web with silence.... Oh, with hope!
[_Curtain_]
ACT II
SCENE 1. _A hall in the castle of Suli. Heavy doors open left, half-way
up. Large window with iron grating, rear. Couches, chairs, scattered.
Tables from which servants are removing the remnants of a feast. They
are quarrelling, chaffing, singing, as the curtain risen._
_First Ser._ Shifty, there!
_Second Ser._ What, can't a soldier eat?
_First Ser._ You a soldier, lickspoon?
_Second Ser._ I've drawn a sword, sir!
_First Ser._ Ay, and cut a cheese.
_Third Ser._ [_Lifting flask_] Here's to----
_Fourth Ser._ [_Seizing flask_] No man shall guzzle my master's wine
before me. [_Drains vessel_]
_Third Ser._ [_Sadly, turning up empty flask_] Not after you, either.
_Fifth Ser._ Well, well, and two moons back we were saying grace over
ditch-water!
_Sixth Ser._ Ay, we were good Christians then. A full stomach makes lean
prayers. Now we've such a plenty we can spare the devil a fillip, and
never a grace for it.
_First Ser._ [_Tugging at table_] Take a leg there! This is no
grasshopper. [_Others help him move table to wall, right_] Look about
you! The maskers will be in here.
_Second Ser._ Here? They'll be everywhere to-night. Such a jig-making
over the new prince!
_Second Ser._ Not a corner to drop into and sleep off a good supper with
a clear conscience!
_Sixth Ser._ Sleep? What have we to do with sleep? We fight, we eat, we
dance. That's my soldier!
_Second Ser._ We kill, we cut, we caper! [_Sings_]
The soldier rides on Fortune's wheel,
_All._ Round we go,
Round we go!
_Second Ser._ Now up the head and now the heel,
_All._ Round we go,
Round----
[_Enter seventh servant_]
_Seventh Ser._ Quiet, you devils! The master's coming.
_Second Ser._ What, can't a soldier sing? Haven't we fought like true
men? When did we give quarter? When did we show mercy? And now can't we
be happy? Can't we take breath?
_Seventh Ser._ Sh! and I'll tell you what I've seen. I've seen the
daughter of Old Wisdom.
_Sixth Ser._ He get a daughter!
_Seventh Ser._ The maid of Kidmir. Ardia of the Stars they call her, but
if the sun could shine in the middle of a dark night she would be like
that.
_First Ser._ Foh, the Lady Berenice will put out her candle.
_Seventh Ser._ The Lady Berenice is as like her as the back of my hand
to Juno's cheek!
_First Ser._ A heathen comparison! There's a Christian blow for it!
[_They scuffle. Enter Oswald in talk with Bertrand. Servants finish
their work quietly and go out_]
_Osw._ My heart is whole again, now you've escaped
The claws of Kidmir.
_Ber._ Say the arms that closed
Like God's around me!
_Osw._ Fox, and lion too.
That's Charilus. I knew him young,--when blood
Tells nature's truth,--ere he had sucked
Philosophy's pale milk and made his truce
With prudence and long life. The heart then his
He carries now----
_Ber._ Then, sir, you must have known
The Maker's marvel,--youth that outstripped age
And grayest saints in virtue.
_Osw._ Tut! No matter.
You're safe. And he is here ... within these walls.
_Ber._ A guest of faith who holds your honor bound
High hostage for his life.
_Osw._ My honor? Trust me!
I'll care for that. No more I'll blush to lift
My shield i' the sun. The spot of thirty years
Shall be wiped out.
_Ber._ With love, my father?
_Osw._ [_After a pause_] Ay,
'Tis love shall do it.
_Ber._ [_Lifting his father's hand to his lips_] You bind my heart to you.
_Osw._ Too soft, my warrior. Keep such woman's play
For Berenice. She will thank you for it.
I'm rough and old, and need the soldier clap
To start the singing blood. [_Clapping Bertrand_] A blow with good
Red heart in 't!
_Ber._ Berenice?
_Osw._ Ah, that takes you!
She's here at last. Prince Frederick arrived
Three days ago, and with him his fair daughter,
Too dear of value to be left behind,
The prey of quarrelling kings. You'll dance with her
To-night.
_Ber._ You'll pardon me. I shall not dance.
_Osw._ Faugh, there's the monk again! Why, boy, we'll pray
The better for a little tripping,--fight
The better too. One dance with Berenice!
A beauty, sir, who makes me hate the years
That lie 'tween youth and me. She was to wed
A son of mine by vow above her cradle,
And I have buried every son save you.
_Ber._ May I not keep one vow?
_Osw._ The pope long since
Released you. Now----
_Ber._ My compact was with Christ.
_Osw._ Why cling to one when all the rest are broken?
_Ber._ It is the one lies wholly in my choice.
_Osw._ You left your cell.
_Ber._ Do you forget 'twas you
Who shook to ground my cloister walls, and locked
All holy doors against me?
_Osw._ True, I did it.
And with good warrant. Broadest Christendom
Upheld my right and gave me back my heir.
Small gain if you refuse to wed. My need
Is not for sons but grandsons now. My boy,
You'll let me see your children at my knee?
Ho, hide your face? Then there's a heart in you.
Why should I toil through blood and groans and fire
To make a name my shroud will wrap with me?
_Ber._ Toil then to give this land to God, and live
So long as love shall live in men.
_Osw._ Pale fame!
Have you no blood of mine? How could my fire
Father this sluggish monk? There was a maid
On Kidmir, Charilus' daughter, who has come
In wag of him, which speaks a fearless wench,--
She taught you nothing in those moons you passed
Upon her peaks?
_Ber._ Sir?
_Osw._ When I saw her face
Flash from her veil, I could have sworn
Your vow was drowned in her lake-eyes, and that
Her captured softness had made easy way
For royal Berenice. Now you talk
Out of your cowl----
_Ber._ Not so! I am a knight!
Your words have made me one! Now could I draw
This sword that knows not blood----
_Osw._ I'll bout with thee
For any woman. Come! Thou'lt be a man
Ere long. Come, sir!
_Ber._ You've set a foot most foul
Upon the flower of time!
_Osw._ It seems I've hit
The mark i' the very eye.
_Ber._ The whitest thought
That holds her first must shrive itself!
_Osw._ So, so!
Come, end the song. She's yours. 'Tis not the moon
You cry for, take an old man's word.
_Ber._ The moon
Were nearer to me!
_Osw._ Trrr-rrr-rr!
_Ber._ My lord?
_Osw._ A woman. Ask and have. I'll send her here.
This is the hour to bait you, and I'd not lose it
For half of Suli.
_Ber._ Stay! I will not see her.
I dare not look upon her lest I lose
Christ and myself.
_Osw._ Are you so tuned? We'll have
A wedding yet.
_Ber._ Forget that word, and I
Forgive you for it.
_Osw._ A wedding, prince of Suli.
This plain shall ring to Antioch.
_Ber._ Nay, father,--
And yet I thank you that your heart would make
So fair a maid my bride.
_Osw._ Fair? That's no word.
She's glory's darling pearl,--the morning's eye
That makes the night forgot! When you have seen her----
_Ber._ When I have seen her?
_Osw._ Ay,----
_Ber._ Do you not speak
Of Ardia?
_Osw._ Ardia! Gods! Wed Kidmir's trull?
Make me a doting grandsire to the heir
Of Charilus? Hear it, stars! Am I the fool
O' the earth? Give up my English forests, bare
My purse for troops, and foot by foot fight way
To Suli sands,--all this that I may set
A droning dotard's line upon a throne,
And be the ass of chronicle? O, poison!
Well, well, I'm done. The girl is fair enough.
And you shall have her if she pleases you.
But Berenice--there's your bride, my boy!
_Ber._ Wed Berenice? With that name you save me.
By that I see the darkness coiling deep
Along my bridal way. 'Twas Ardia's name
That lit the path till I dared let my eyes,
Though not my will, go venturing on 't.
_Osw._ My son,----
_Ber._ Never again, my father, speak to me
In this night's strain. Till morning I shall pray.
And then I fast. Good-night.
_Osw._ One moment. One!
The sunrise feast? Will you not be with us?
I drink with Charilus the cup of peace.
_Ber._ And love that breaks no peace?
_Osw._ [_Assenting_] See how you bend me?
All that you ask I give, but you to me
Yield nothing.
_Ber._ Sir, this sword, my knightly suit,
And princely title, make denial for me.