SCENE: _The Chapel of the Castle--or Chapel of the
Magdalen--a few hours later. It is of stone,
low-arched, gloomy, and adorned with Byzantine mosaics
of gaunt saints on backgrounds of gold. The altar is in
the rear, and above it a large window, through which
pours the still moon. In front of it, to either side,
rise two pillars supporting the roof, and on one of
them, halfway up, stands a stone image of the Magdalen.
Forward are two other pillars whose bases form seats.
The right wall has, set midway, a large door hung with
heavy curtains. In the rear are smaller doors leading
to a sacristy. The altar lamp and a few tapers burn._
ALESSA _enters, rubbing her eyes as if to clear them of
vision, looks around, then calls uncertainly--_
_Alessa._ Good father! Father Moro! ... He is not here.
[_Rubs her eyes again._
The dead are strange! I knew not of their power.
It is as if her spirit still imprisoned
Hovered beneath the pallor of her face
And strove to speak. Good father!
[_Enter_ MORO.
Ah, you were
There in the sacristy.
_Moro._ Yes, Your desire?
_Alessa._ The acolytes summoned from Famagouste
To aid your rites before her burial
Have come, and wait.
_Moro._ Send hither two.
[_Looks closely at her._
_Alessa._ At once.
[_Is going. He stops her._
_Moro._ Woman, this passes silence. There must be
Some question. Do you understand this wedding?
The evil that has risen in this house?
Do you?
_Alessa._ I may not speak.
_Moro._ And wherefore may not?
_Alessa._ I may not. It is best.
_Moro._ As says Yolanda,
Who is to-day impenetrable in all.
But who, now, in a lofty grief above
The misery that blasted her, seems calm,
And answers only,--
"God in His season will,
I trust, unfold it soon; I cannot, now!" ...
And yet I heard
Her darkly bid the Paphian be gone----
From here--without her.
_Alessa._ And he would not?
_Moro._ No.
Does she not see Amaury dangerous
For truth--which you conceal?
_Alessa._ The acolytes
Are waiting.
_Moro._ Go.... But if this hour brings forth
What you shall rue----
_Alessa._ Father!
[_Goes quickly, troubled._
_Moro._ In blindness still!
For Vittia Pisani, who alone
Seems with these twain to share this mystery
Is silent to all importunity.
Oh, Berengere Lusignan!--
But, 'tis mine
To pray and to prepare. (_Listens._) The acolytes.
[_Two enter, sleek, sanctimonious._
(_To Them._) Come here.... You're Serlio,
Of the Ascension. You?
_2nd Acolyte._ Hilarion.
From Santa Maria by the Templars' well,
Which God looks on with gratitude, father.
For though we're poor and are unworthy servants
We've given willingly our widow's mite.
And now we ...
_Moro._ You are summoned to this place
For ministrations other than the tongue's.
Prepare that altar--masses for the dead.
_Hilarion._ Man is as grass that withers!
_Moro._ Kindle all
Its tapers. The departed will be borne
Hither for holy care and sacred rest.
So do--then after
Look to that image of the Magdalen,
Once it has fallen.
_Serlio._ Domine, dirige!
[MORO _goes. They put off cant and set to work._
_Hilarion_ (_insolently, lighting a taper_).
We'll have good wine for this!
_Serlio._ The Chian! Hee!
None's like the Chian! and to-morrow, meat!
Last week old Ugo died and we had pheasant.
_Hilarion._ When we are priests we'll give no comforting
To wife or maid--till we have sipped!
_Serlio._ And supped!
Though 'tis a Friday and the Pope is dead!
[_Silence. They work faster._
_Hilarion._ There, it is done. Now to the image.
[_Mounts pillar._
_Serlio._ Well,
Olympio, the cock who fetched us, said
That image fell first on the day----
_Hilarion._ Tchuck! tchuck!
Better no breath about that lord of Paphos,
Or any here. For till the dead are three
Days gone, you know--! But there's the woman. Feign.
[_As_ ALESSA _re-enters; hypocritically._
The blessed dead! in Purgatory may
They briefly bide.
_Serlio._ Aye! aye!
_Alessa_ (_still troubled_). What say you?
_Hilarion._ Ah!
I lay that it is wiser never to foul
The dead, even in thinking,
For they may hear us, none can say, and once
My mother saw a dead man who had gone
Unshriven start up white and cry out loud
When he was curst.
_Serlio._ O Lord!
_Alessa_ (_staring_). No!... Well, such things
There are perchance. And now they say that Venus,
The Anadyomene, who once ruled this isle,
Is come again.... But you have finished? Soon
They bring her body here.
_Hilarion._ Now have I, now!
It will not totter again.
[_Descends._
_Alessa._ Would that it might
Upon the head of----(_catches herself; calmly_) You are awaited
There in the sacristy.... The chant begins!
[_The acolytes go. She grows more disquieted._
Begins! and lady Yolanda still awaits
Heedless, though Lord Amaury's desperate,
As is the Paphian!... They near!... The curtains!
[_Goes to door and draws them back. As she does so
the chant swells louder. Then the cortege
enters_--MORO, _the acolytes with tapers;_
BERENGERE _on a litter_, AMAURY, RENIER,
VITTIA, _the women_, HASSAN, _and last_
YOLANDA. _The litter_, AMAURY _by it, comes to
the altar; the chanting ceases._
_Moro_ (_as_ AMAURY _bows, shaken_).
No moan or any toil of grief be here
Where we have brought her for sainted appeal.
But in this holy place until the tomb
Let her find rest.
_Amaury._ Set down the bier.
[_It is placed._
_Moro._ Lone rest!
Then bliss Afar for ever!
_Amaury_ (_rises_). Be it so!
[_Turning; brokenly._
But unto any, mother, who have brought thee
Low to this couch, be never ease again.
To any who have put thy life out, never!
But in them be the burning that has seemed
To shrivel thee--whether with pain or fear!
And be appeaseless tears,
Salt tears that rust the fountain of the heart.
[_Sinks to a seat. A pause._
_Moro._ My son, relentless words.
_Amaury_ (_up again_). To the relentless!
_Moro._ God hear you not!
_Amaury._ Then is He not my God.
_Moro._ Enough, enough. (_To the rest._) But go and for her soul
Freight all of you this tide of night with prayer.
_Amaury._ Never!
_Moro._ I bid.
_Amaury._ And I forbid those who
Have prized her not!
For though nought's in the world but prayer may move,
Still but the lips that loved her
Should for her any sin beseeching lift.
[_Looking at_ YOLANDA.
They and no other!
_Yolanda._ It is well.
_Amaury._ Not one.
_Yolanda._ Then, mother----
[_Goes to bier._
_Amaury._ That name again?
_Yolanda._ While I have breath.
[_Fixedly._
Yes, though you hold me purgeless of that sin
Only the pale archangels may endure
Trembling to muse on!
Or though yon image of the Magdalen,
Whose alabaster broke amid her tears
And her torn hair, forbade me with a voice.
And you, whose heart is shaken
As in a tomb a taper's flame, would know
I speak with love.
_Camarin._ Unswerving love.
_Amaury._ Then, by
Christ, and the world that craves His blood, I think
She, if she would, or you, could point to me,
Or you, Vittia Pisani,
The reason of this sudden piteous death
Hard on the haunted flight before my father,
Whose lips refuse.
_Camarin._ She knows no shred of it.
_Amaury._ You lie to say it.
_Camarin._ Then will, still--if there
Is need.
_Amaury._ Because you love her?
_Yolanda._ Peace, peace, peace.
_Amaury._ A hollow word for what had never being.
_Yolanda._ Look on her face and see.
_Amaury_ (_at bier_). Upon her face!
Where not oblivion the void of death
Has hid away, or can, the agony
Of her last terror--but it trembles still.
I tell you, no. Grief was enough, but now
Through it has risen mystery that chokes
As a miasma from Iscariot's tomb.
And till this pall of doubt be rent away
No earth shall fall and quicken with her dust!
But I will search her face ... till it reveals.
_Camarin._ He raves.
_Amaury._ Iscariot! yes!
_Yolanda._ Again, peace, peace!
_Amaury._ That you may palter!
_Yolanda_ (_gently_). That she may not grieve.
[_Goes again to bier._
For--if her soul is near--it now is wrung.
Near! would it were to hear me and impart
Its yearning and regret to us who live,
Its dim unhappiness and hollow want.
Yes, mother, were you now about us, vain,
Invisible and without any voice
To tell us of you!
Were you and now could hear through what of cold
Or silence wrap you, oh, so humanly,
And seeming but a veil--
Then would you hear me say--
[_Suddenly aghast._
Ah, God!
_Amaury._ Yolanda!
[_She starts back from the bier._
Yolanda!
_Renier._ Girl, what rends you?
_Yolanda._ Saw you not?
[_Rushes to bier and shakes it._
Mother! you hear me? mother!
_Renier._ Girl!
_Yolanda._ She breathes!
[_Consternation. Some fall to their knees._
_Vittia._ What? what?
_Yolanda._ Mother! Her breast! Mother! She moves!
_Amaury._ God! God!
_Yolanda._ Stand off from her ... Mother!
_Camarin._ Her eyes!...
They open! open!
_Yolanda._ Mother!...
_Amaury._ See; her lips!
They strive to speak! O faintly. O so faint!
Can you not hear?
_Berengere._ Yolanda!
_Yolanda._ Mother!
_Berengere._ Renier!
_Renier._ Yes, yes?
_Berengere._ Yolanda--
_Renier._ Speak!
_Berengere._ Christ, save me ... Christ!
Yolanda's innocent, and I ... 'twas I.
_Amaury._ What? what is it she says?
_Berengere._ Camarin! Ah!
[_She shudders and dies, amid low uttered awe._
RENIER _bends, lays his hand a moment on her
breast, then, with a cry of rage, springs from
her and draws, and rushes on_ CAMARIN, _who
awaits him, desperate._
_Amaury_ (_confused, as they engage_).
Yolanda; what is this?
_Yolanda._ Amaury, in!
Compel lord Renier back! he cannot live,
You only could against Camarin now!
Wait not to question, but obey me! if--
You ever--! (_as he rushes in_) Holy Magdalen, defend him!
[RENIER _falls back._
Now, now defend him, if to chastity
Thou'rt vowed in heaven.
_Vittia._ Fool!... Camarin, strike!
_Yolanda._ He's wounded!
_Camarin._ Oh!... Berengere! ... treachery!
[_He staggers and sinks back heavily toward the
pillar. There is breathless, strained suspense.
Then the image above, unsettled and shaken by
his fall, sways, totters and crushes upon him.
A cry, "The Magdalen!" goes up around._
_Hassan_ (_hurrying to him; after awe and silence_).
He's dead.
_Alessa._ The Magdalen!
_Hassan._ No breath in him.
[_A pause._
_Renier_ (_low, harshly_).
Bear him without then ever from this place,
That never more shall know a holy rite--
And from these gates, I care not to what tomb.
[_To_ AMAURY.
Then shall you hear this mystery's content,
That still as a madness measures to your sight.
Bear him without.
[_The limp body is borne away. All follow but_
AMAURY, YOLANDA, RENIER.
Now you shall hear, with shame,
But with exalted pride and happy tears;
Then come obliteration!
Speak, girl.... Nobility
Had never better title to its truth.
[_Kisses her hand and goes._
_Amaury._ Yolanda!... He?... This reverence as to
An angel? Speak!
_Yolanda._ Amaury----
_Amaury._ O pause not!
_Yolanda._ Then--to save her who's dead--from death and shame,
I took her place within the Paphian's arms.
_Amaury._ O! ... and by me, driven by me, bore this?
[_Overcome._
Pure as the rills of Paradise, endured?
_Yolanda._ For you!--and her who sleeps forgiven there,
[_Raptly._
Now while her spirit weightless overwingeth
Night, to that Throne whose seeing heals all shame!
For her I did! but oh, for you, whose least
Murmur to me is infinite with Spring,
Whose smile is light, filling the air with dawn,
Whose touch, wafture of immortality
Unto my weariness; and whose eyes, now,
Are as the beams God lifted first, they tell us,
Over the uncreated,
In the far singing mother-dawn of the world!--
Come with me then, but tearless, to her side.
[_They go to the bier and stand as in a dream. A
pause, then her lips move, last, as if
inspired._
While there is sin to sway the soul and sink it,
Pity should be as strong as love or death!
[_With a cry of joy he enfolds her, and they kneel,
wrapped about with the clear moon._
THE END
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Minor typesetting inconsistencies of italics and smallcap words
and punctuation have been corrected without comment.
All stage directions have been uniformly formatted to a left
uniform indent instead of a right page margin.
Spelling corrections:
Page 3, "aamask" to "damask" (hung with heavy damask).
Page 110, "violenc" to "violence" (she your cold violence).
Page 112, "Caramin" to "Camarin" (84) (_as_ CAMARIN _takes_).
Word Variations:
"Aeih" (2) and "Aieh" (2) (as spoken by TREMITUS)
"leach" (1) and "leech" (1) (when refering to TREMITUS)