PLAYS
AND
LYRICS
BY
CALE YOUNG RICE
LONDON
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
27 PATERNOSTER ROW
NEW YORK: MCCLURE PHILLIPS & CO.
44 EAST TWENTY-THIRD STREET
1906
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED. PRINTERS, WOKING AND LONDON.
To
IDA M. TARBELL
WITH FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP
PREFACE
This volume contains "Yolanda of Cyprus," a hitherto unpublished play; many new lyrics; some others that appeared in "Song-Surf," a volume whose publishers failed before it reached the public; and "David," which came out in America in 1904. The author's desire has been to include only his best work.
CONTENTS
| PAGE | |
| YOLANDA OF CYPRUS | 1 |
| LYRICS—DRAMATIC:— | |
| JAEL | 91 |
| MARY AT NAZARETH | 96 |
| OUTCAST | 98 |
| ADELIL | 100 |
| THE DYING POET | 102 |
| ON THE MOOR | 105 |
| HUMAN LOVE | 107 |
| O GO NOT OUT | 108 |
| CALL TO YOUR MATE, BOB-WHITE | 110 |
| TRANSCENDED | 112 |
| THE CRY OF EVE | 113 |
| THE CHILD GOD GAVE | 116 |
| MOTHER-LOVE | 118 |
| ASHORE | 120 |
| LOVE'S WAY TO CHILDHOOD | 122 |
| LISSETTE | 123 |
| TEARLESS | 125 |
| THE LIGHTHOUSEMAN | 126 |
| BY THE INDUS | 128 |
| FROM ONE BLIND | 130 |
| AT THE FALL OF ROME, A.D. 455 | 131 |
| PEACELESS LOVE | 133 |
| SUNDERED | 134 |
| WITH OMAR | 135 |
| A JAPANESE MOTHER (IN TIME OF WAR) | 144 |
| LYRICS—NON-DRAMATIC:— | |
| SHINTO (MIYAJIMA, JAPAN, 1905) | 146 |
| EVOCATION (NIKKO, JAPAN, 1905) | 148 |
| THE ATONER | 150 |
| INTIMATION | 151 |
| IN JULY | 152 |
| FROM ABOVE | 154 |
| SONGS TO A. H. R.:— | |
| I. THE WORLD'S AND MINE | 155 |
| II. LOVE-CALL IN SPRING | 156 |
| III. MATING | 157 |
| IV. UNTOLD | 158 |
| V. LOVE-WATCH | 159 |
| VI. AS YOU ARE | 160 |
| VII. AT AMALFI | 161 |
| VIII. ON THE PACIFIC | 163 |
| THE WINDS | 165 |
| THE DAY-MOON | 167 |
| TO A SINGING WARBLER | 169 |
| TO THE SEA | 170 |
| THE DEAD GODS | 172 |
| AT WINTER'S END | 175 |
| APRIL | 176 |
| AUGUST GUESTS | 177 |
| AUTUMN | 178 |
| THE WORLD | 179 |
| TO THE DOVE | 180 |
| AT TINTERN ABBEY | 182 |
| THE VICTORY | 184 |
| SEARCHING DEATH'S DARK | 185 |
| SERENITY | 187 |
| TO THE SPRING WIND | 188 |
| THE RAMBLE | 189 |
| RETURN | 192 |
| THE EMPTY CROSS | 194 |
| SUNSET-LOVERS | 196 |
| TO A ROSE (IN A HOSPITAL) | 198 |
| UNBURTHENED | 199 |
| WHERE PEACE IS DUTY | 201 |
| WANTON JUNE | 202 |
| AUTUMN AT THE BRIDGE | 204 |
| SONG | 205 |
| TO HER WHO SHALL COME | 206 |
| AVOWAL TO THE NIGHTINGALE | 208 |
| STORM-EBB | 210 |
| SLAVES | 212 |
| WAKING | 213 |
| FAUN-CALL | 214 |
| LINGERING | 216 |
| STORM-TWILIGHT | 217 |
| WILDNESS | 218 |
| BEFORE AUTUMN | 219 |
| FULFILMENT | 221 |
| TO THE FALLEN LEAVES | 223 |
| MAYA (HIROSHIMO, JAPAN, 1905) | 224 |
| SPIRIT OF RAIN (MIANOSHITA, JAPAN, 1905) | 226 |
| THE NYMPH AND THE GOD | 227 |
| A SEA-GHOST | 228 |
| LAST SIGHT OF LAND | 230 |
| SILENCE | 231 |
| DAVID | 233 |
YOLANDA OF CYPRUS
CHARACTERS
| Renier Lusignan | A descendant of the Lusignan kings of Cyprus. |
| Berengere | His wife. |
| Amaury | His Son, Commander of Famagouste under the Venetians. |
| Yolanda | The Ward of Berengere, betrothed to Amaury. |
| Camarin | A Baron of Paphos, guest in the Lusignan Castle. |
| Vittia Pisani | A Venetian Lady, also a guest. |
| Moro | A Priest. |
| Hassan | Warden of the Castle. |
| Halil | His Son, a boy. |
| Tremitus | A Physician. |
| Olympio | A Greek boy, serving Amaury. |
| Alessa | Berengere's Women. |
| Maga | |
| Civa | |
| Mauria | |
| Smarda | Slave to Vittia. |
| Pietro | In Vittia's pay. |
| Priests, acolytes, etc. | |
| Time—The sixteenth century. | |
| Place—The island of Cyprus. |
ACT I
Scene: A dim Hall, of blended Gothic and Saracenic styles, in the Lusignan Castle, on the island of Cyprus near Famagouste. Around the walls, above faint frescoes portraying the deliverance of Jerusalem by the Crusaders, runs a frieze inlaid with the coats-of-arms of former Lusignan kings. On the left, and back, is a door hung with heavy damask, and in the wall opposite, another. Farther down on the right a few steps, whose railing supports a Greek vase with jasmine, lead through a chapel to the sleeping apartments. In the rear, on either side, are guled lattice windows, and in the centre an open grated door, looking upon a loggia, and, across the garden below, over the moonlit sea. Seats are placed about, and, forward, a divan with rich Turkish coverings. A table with a lighted cross-shaped candlestick is by the door, left; and a lectern with a book on it, to the front, right. As the curtain rises, the Women, except Civa, lean wearily on the divan, and Halil near is singing dreamily,
And ah, the blessing
[Pg 6] Of the deep fall of night
And of confessing.
Of the sick soul made white
Of all distressing:
Made white!...
Ah, balm of night
And, ah the blessing!
The music falls and all seem yielding to sleep. Suddenly there are hoof-beats and sounds at the gates below. Halil springs up.
(All start up.)
Perhaps Lord Renier—No: I will learn.
(He runs to curtains and looks.)
From Famagouste and Lord Amaury!
And he comes here?
To lady Yolanda, by my lute!
(He admits Olympio, who enters insolently down. All press around him gaily.)
What tidings? tell us.
Of the squadron huddling yesterday for haven
At Keryneia?
A hundred galleys westing up the wind,
Scenting the shore, but timorous as hounds.
A gale—and twenty down!
Or, if he comes, to-night. To lady Yolanda
I'm sent and not to tattle silly here.
(He starts off, but is arrested by laughter within. It is Civa who enters, holding up a parchment.)
Stay you, and hear!—May never virgin love him!
Gone as a thistle! (Turns.)
[Pg 8]
On papyrus of Paphos. O, to read!
But you, Alessa—!
The fountain cypress at the marble feet
Of chaste Diana!
And oft our lady—!
Read them to us, Alessa, read them, read.
They are of love!
You ever sigh for sorrow!—They are of love!
Of valour bursting through enchanted bounds
To ladies prisoned in an ogre's keep!
Then of the bridals!—O, they are of love!
(She points to Alessa, who, reading, has paled.)
(She rends the parchment.)
Read us the verses.
[Pg 9]
Who writes them, and to whom.
It is some guilt you hide!—And touching her
You dote on—lady Yolanda!
Of one, then, in this castle!—See, her lips
Betray it is.
(Forms appear without.)
Our lady and Sir Camarin.
They heard us, Maga?
(Berengere coldly, as if consenting to it, enters.)
(Stepping out.) My lady?
Your lamps; for it is time
Now for your aves and o'erneeded sleep.
But first I'd know if yet Lord Renier——
(Sees their disquiet—starts.)
[Pg 10]
But put away the distaff and the needle.
(Camarin enters.)
And yet you do not seem——
And send me Hassan.
(The women leave.)
They were not as their wont is.
My Berengere, that apprehension haunts.
They were as ever. Then be done with fear!
Is ours—Renier tarries at Famagouste—
Is ours for love and for a long delight!
And passing of all presage from you.
For think, Yolanda's look when by the cypress
We read the verses! And my dream that I
Should with a cross—inscrutable is sleep!—
Bring her deep bitterness.
[Pg 11] Born of the night and not of destiny.
She guesses not our guilt, and Renier
Clasps to his breast ambition as a bride—
Ambition for Amaury.
He's much with this Venetian, our guest.
Though Venice gyves us more with tyranny
Than would the Saracen.
Of the Pisani, powerful in Venice,
He hopes to lift again his dynasty
Up from decay; and to restore this island,
This venture-dream of the seas, unto his house.
'Tis clear, my Berengere!
And what the requital that entices her?
(Rises.)
Or to Yolanda and Amaury's love.
But, there; the women.
What signal for to-night?
Over the threshold yonder I will wave
The candle-sign, when all are passed to sleep.
Quicker than ecstasy.
(He leaves her by the divan.)
(The women re-enter with silver lighted lamps; behind them are Hassan and the slave Smarda. They wait for Berengere, who has stood silent, to speak.)
And it is time for sleep.—Hassan, the gates:
Close them.
Lord Renier will not come.
With the priest Moro.
Come, women, with your lamps and light the way.
(The women go by the steps. Berengere follows.)
Something is vile. Lady Yolanda weeps
In secret; all for what?—unless because
Of the Paphian—or this Venetian.
(Seeing Smarda.) Now,
Slave! Scythian! You linger?
My mistress.
[Pg 13] Something of hell in her and has unpacked
A portion in this castle. Is it so?
Her smirk admits it.
Thy tongue out sudden, if it now has lies.
What of thy lady and Lord Renier?
(Renier enters behind, with Moro.)
What do they purpose?
(Turns, and stares amazed.)
This slave stung me to pry.
She asked for your return.
[Pg 14]
No matter; find my chamber till I come.
Of my arrival, too, no word to any.
(Hassan goes, confused.)
Whether it is suspicion eats in me,
Mistrust and fret and doubt—of whom I say not,
Or whether desire and unsubduable
To see Amaury sceptred—I care not.
(To Smarda.)
I'm here and now have chosen.
(Smarda goes.)
To hold a sceptre, and Amaury must.
He is Lusignan and his lineage
Will drown in him Yolanda's loveliness.
What this Venetian hints.
They've shut from me their souls.
Something has gone from me or never was
Within my breast. I love not—am unlovable.
Amaury is not so,
And this Venetian Vittia Pisani——
And yesterday a holy relic scorned.
Be the elected Governor of Cyprus.
The throne, then, but a step.
And think; Yolanda is to him as heaven:
He will not yield her.
The Venetian, has ways to it—a secret
To pierce her from his arms.
(Vittia enters unnoted.)
(Renier starts and turns.)
[Pg 16]
Come softly, lady of Venice.
In Venice teach us.
My wife? Yolanda?
What matters it? In Venice our lords know
That beauty has no master.
That too has something hid.
Yet Berengere Lusignan is his wife!
And soon Yolanda—But for that I'm here.
You sent for me.
And offer me irrevocable aid
To win Amaury?
Before the fever for it.
It must be done. My want is unafraid.
Hourly I am expecting out of Venice
Letters of power.
And what to you I pledge is he shall be
Ruler of Cyprus and these Mediterranean
Blue seas that rock ever against its coast.
That do I pledge ... but more.
[Pg 17]
(He half recoils and stands. Smarda enters hastily to them.)
She's not asleep as you averred to me,
Was not asleep, but comes?... My lord—!
Stay and confront her.
(By the loggia, with Moro, he goes; the slave slips out. Yolanda enters, sadly her gaze on the floor. She walks slowly, but becoming conscious starts, sees Vittia, and turns to withdraw.)
The women, they are gone.
To-night—if you have love.
You hold as mother, and who is Amaury's.
Laired darkly in you, but to my eyes been clear
As shallows under Morpha's crystal wave.
It is not clear?
Out of your cheek and dead upon your heart:
Yet you are innocent—oh innocent?—
O'er what abyss she hangs!
Of Paphos—Camarin—is but her friend,
And deeply yours—as oft you feign to shield her?
[Pg 19]
Knows better than believing what you say.
And never must. I have misled his thought
From her to me. The danger thus may pass,
The open shame.
Sir Camarin departed, her release
From the remorse and fettering will seem
Sweet as a vista into fairyland.
For none e'er will betray her.
(Realising with gradual horror.) The still insinuation! You would do it!
This is the beast then of the labyrinth?
And this your heart is?
But now, if you deny me.
If there is Womanhood in you to speak.
The name of Berengere Lusignan must
Go clean unto the years, fair and unsullied.
Nor must the bloody leap
Of death fall on her from Lord Renier's sword,
A death too ready if he but suspect.
No, she is holy!
And holy are my lips
[Pg 20] Remembering that they may call her mother!
All the bright world I breathe because of her,
Laughter and roses, day-song of the sea,
Not bitterness and loneliness and blight!
All the bright world,
Of voices, dear as waking to the dead—
Voices of love and tender earthly hopes—
O, all the beauty I was once forbid!
Yes, yes!—
She lifted me, a lonely convent weed,
A cloister thing unvisited of dew,
Withering and untended and afar
From the remembered ruin of my home,
And here has planted me in happiness.
Then, for her, all I am!
(A pause.)
Where not Eternity could heal the wound
Though all the River of God might be for balm!
Cruelty like to this you could not do?
(Waits a moment.)
[Pg 21] Fell from the hawk: you soothed and set it free.
This, then, you would not—!
I had forgotten, you are of Venice—Venice
Whose burdening is vast upon this land.
Good-night.
That love of him has led your thought so low.
To-morrow—
Choose and at once.
(They start and listen. Approaching hoofs are heard.)
His speed upon the road? now at the gates?
(The fall of chains is heard.)
And force him from you, or to have me breathe
To Renier Lusignan the one word
That will transmute his wrong to madness?
Say quickly. Centuries have stained these walls,
But never a wife; never——
(Enter Berengere.)
[Pg 22] Has spurred to us, Yolanda, from his post,
Secret and sudden. But ... what has befallen?
(Looks from one to the other.)
Must be the end.
Defer him but a little—till to-morrow.
I cannot see him now.
Some woman thing—that I am ill—that I
Am at confession—penance—that—Ah, say
But anything!
Too late.
Along the corridor. There!
(The curtains are thrown back.)
(Hastens down and takes her, passive, into his arms. Berengere goes.)
[Pg 23] To touch you is as triumph to the blood,
Is as the boon of battle to the strong!
You come: The Saracens——?
(Bends back her head.)
Dear as the wind wafts from undying shrines
Of mystery and myrrh!
I'd have the eloquence of quickened moons
Pouring upon the midnight magical,
To say all I have yearned,
Now, with your head pillowed upon my breast!
Slow sullen speech come to my soldier lips,
Rough with command, and impotent of softness?
Come to my lips! or fill so full my eyes
That the unutterable, shall seem as sweet
To my Yolanda. (Lifting her face, with surprise.)
But how now? tears?
You to this coat of steel?
Or silence, then?
Sweet as the roses of Damascus crusht,
Your silence is! and sweeter than the dream
Of April nightingale on Troados,
[Pg 24] Or gushing by the springs of Chitria,
Your every word of love! Yet—yet—ah, fold me,
Within your arms oblivion and hold me,
Fast to your being press me, and there bless me
With breathèd power of your manhood's might.
Amaury!...
(Goes to the lectern.)
This, telling of that Italy madonna
Whose days were sad—I have forgotten how.
Is it not so?
Come as the air and sighing of the night,
We know not whence or why.
I am not skilled to tell. But these—not these!
They are of trouble known.
I cannot fathom—Camarin——
Tell me——
[Pg 25] As sea the sky! and as the sky the wind!
And as the wind the forest! As the forest—
What does the forest love, Amaury? I
Can think of nothing!
Never a moment of you yielded to him,
That never he has touched too long this hand—
Till evermore he must, even as I—
Nor once into your eyes too deep has gazed!
You falter? darken?
Into these halls! that it were beautiful,
Holy to hate him as the Lost can hate.
Which women trust? and you?
(Berengere enters. He turns to her.)
A soldier of your troop within the forts
Has come with word.
I've seen that battle-light in you before.
'Tis of the Saracens? you ride to-night
Into their peril?
[Pg 26]
Are landing!
Anchor and land to-night near Keryneia.
My troops are ready and await me—
So, no delay.
Go, go.
(He kisses her and hurries off.... A silence.)
(She rises.)
Drawn as a veil between us.
To-night I am flooded with a deeper tide
Than yet has flowed into my life—and through it
Sounds premonition: so I must have calm.
(She embraces Berengere; goes slowly up steps and off.)
It is suspicion—Then I must not meet
Him here to-night—or if to-night, no more.
Her premonition!—and my dream that I
Should with a cross bring her deep bitterness.
(Thinks a moment, then takes the crucifix from her neck.)
(Lays it on table.)
And yet I care not (dully.) ... No, I will forget.
(Goes firmly from door to door and looks out each. Then lifts, uniting, the cross-shaped candlestick; and waving it at the loggia, turns holding it before her.)
Away my weakness with mad tenderness.
Soon he will ... Ah!
(Has seen with terror the candlestick's structure.)
(Lets it fall.)
(Sinks feebly to the divan, and bows, overcome.)
My Berengere, a moment, and I come!
(Enters, locking the grating behind him, Then he hurries down and leans to lift her face.)
(Shrinks.)
And the night's song of you is in my brain—
A song that seems——
Fate is begun! See, with the cross it was
I waved you hither. Leave me—let me pass
Out of this sin—and to repentance—after.
This moment were it known would end with murder,
Or did it not, dishonour still would kill!
Leave, leave.
(He goes behind and puts his arms around her.)
For it I'm mad as bacchanals for wine.
(Yolanda, entering an the balcony, hears, and would retreat, but sees Renier come to the grating.)
Let us again take rapture wings and rise
Up to our world of love, guilt would unsphere.
Let us live over days that passed as streams
[Pg 29] Limpid by lotus-banks unto the sea,
O'er all the whispered nights that we have clasped
Knowing the heights and all the deeps of passion!
But speak, and we shall be amid the stars.
(Renier draws a dagger and leaves the grating. With a low cry Yolanda staggers down: the Two rise, fearful.)
Think not of me—no, hush—but of the peril
Arisen up.... Your husband!
A dagger—! Ah, he will come.
(She struggles to think.)
Is poor of courage—poverished by guilt,
As all my soul is! But, Yolanda, you—!
(Camarin goes to the curtains and returns.)
[Pg 30]
There is escape? a way from it?
He came after your words ... yes ... could not see
Here in the dimness ... but has only heard
Sir Camarin?
Up to your chamber and be as asleep.
There is a way—I think—dim, but a way.
Go to your chamber; for there yet may be
Prevention!
(Berengere goes.)
Here at the lowest of her destiny.
Clasp me within your arms; he must believe
'Tis I and not his wife you have unhallowed,
Your arms about me, though they burn! and breathe me
Thirst of unbounded love as unto her.
(He clasps her, and they wait.)
[Pg 31]
(Renier enters with Moro.)
Kiss me with quenchless kisses, and embrace
Me with your beauty, till——
(Yolanda with a cry, as of fear, loses herself, pretending to discover Renier, who is struck rigid.)
It is Yolanda.
(The dagger falls from him.)
(Yolanda, realising, stunned, sinks back to the divan.)
Curtain.[Pg 32]
ACT II
Several Days have Elapsed.
Scene: The forecourt of the castle, beyond which is the garden and in the distance the mountains, under the deep tropical blue of morning. On the right the wall enclosing the castle grounds run back and is lost in the foliage of cypress, palm, orange; it is pierced by an arched gate with lifted portcullis. On the left rises the dark front of the castle, its arabesqued doorway open. Across the rear a low arcaded screen of masonry, with an entrance to the right, separates the court from the garden. Before it a fountain, guarded by a statue of a Knight of St. John, falls into a porphyry basin, By the castle door, to the front, and elsewhere, are stone seats. Hassan is standing moodily by the screen, left, looking out the portcullis. He starts, hearing steps, and as the old leach Tremitus enters, motions him silently into the castle; then muttering "the old blood-letter," stands as before, while Civa, Maga, and Mauria are heard m the garden, and enter gaily bearing water-jars to the fountain. Civa sees his look and breaks into a twitting laughter. The other two join her.
Was ever sight so sweet upon the world!
His eyes! his lips! a prince!
With the price of vinegar upon his face.
(All laugh.)
Not I! Not I! Not I!
And not a man! he has discovered it!
You're not a man, Mauria! we were duped.
(Mauria slaps her playfully.)
Who died of choler!
He's been in the grave a long while and he's hungry.
A barley-loaf, quick, Maga!
But ssh! Beware! There's something of import.
(They stop in mock awe before him.)
Enough of teasing.
[Pg 34]
Your pitcher, come. He's troubled by the tale
Of lady Yolanda——
And waits for lord Amaury from the battle.
(Hassan starts at her tone.)
You have lady Yolanda hear? She comes
Now, as she has this morning thrice, to ask.
(Yolanda appears on the threshold with Alessa.)
(Civa flouts him, but goes to the fountain. The others follow, fill their jugs, and, singing, return to the garden. Yolanda then crosses to Hassan, who waits evasive.)
He has not yet returned?
(Goes to the gate, troubled.)
(Returns.)
Their vessels—all the Allah-crying horde.
And lord Amaury—said the courier not?——
Rode in the battle as a seraph might
To the Holy Sepulchre's deliverance.
And yet no word from him.
(She looks at him quickly—he flushes.)
Is rumoured of a baron
And lady Yolanda!... Pardon!
And lady Yolanda.
Who with their ears ever at secresy
Rumour it. But, lady, it is a lie?
This Camarin, this prinker,
Whose purse is daily loose to us.... I curse him!
His father.... Well, my mother's ten years dead
And flower lips breathe innocent above her.
But I'll avenge her shame.
And—you, who do not hush this tale of you,
Though it is truthless—hear:
I have a stab for Camarin of Paphos
Whenever he has lived—but say!—too long.
Come here ... look in my eyes, and—deeper.... Shame!
(He is quelled.)
And they who love may stray, it seems, beyond
All justice of our judging.—
Is evil mad enchantment come upon
The portals of this castle?
As oft you have——
The Venetian, and when Amaury comes
Find me at once. What sound was that?... A bugle?
It is! it is! Alessa! (Overjoyed.) Do you hear?
His troop! Amaury's! O the silver chime!
Again I breathe, I breathe!
My heart as a bird's in May!
Amaury!... Come! we'll go to him! we'll go!
Before any within Lusignan—!
That he must fend his ear from. 'Twill suffice.
And I again shall see him, hear him speak,
Hang on his battle-story blessedly!
And you, Hassan.... But why do you stand stone?
You know something.... He's dead!
[Pg 37]
And I will lie to you no longer.
And at Lord Renier's command.... It is
Not true that lord Amaury from the battle
Has not returned.
(Stands motionless.)
Up to his chamber....
So much Lord Renier who slipt him in
Revealed, that I might guile you.
Who'd kill the Paphian, too?
Heeling away from him?
(Alessa turns to her.)
This may undo me! First of all I should
Have seen Amaury! Now——!
[Pg 38]
(They start. Vittia enters from castle.)
(They go.)
(Stops.)
Vittia Visani, who withholds Amaury——
Who came last night at dusk, as well you know.
(They face, opposed.)
And feigning! But no matter; lies are brief.
I'll go myself to him.
(Berengere enters.)
A Paphian ere this has fondled two?
I too have been aware and kept you blind.
But, nothing! for he still is overworn.
And now his wound——
[Pg 39]
If the leech Tremitus has any skill;
And that you know.
(Vittia laughs and goes.)
Your promises, broken two days, are kept?
You've spoken? won Lord Renier to wisdom?
Pled him to silence which alone can save us?
Dear mother——?
(Turns away.)
This gulf's dishonour? Never!... So return
And pledge him but to wait!
For this Venetian has now, I bode,
Something of evil more,
When once Amaury hears all that has passed.
Return!
Too am a woman, and the woman wants,
The beauty and ache and dream and glow and urge
[Pg 40] Of an unreckoned love are mine as yours.
I will not lose Amaury; but will tell him
Myself the truth.
And wait for shame. But now with Camarin
Will go from here.
Away!
I fear, Amaury's!—
And overtake you though it were as far
As the sea foams, or past the sandy void
Of stricken Africa. It would be vain.
Vain, and I cannot have you. No, but listen——
(Breaks off seeing Renier, on the castle threshold. His look is on her, but he comes down addressing Berengere.)
You cherish her and reap unchastity
For gratitude—unchastity against
Our very son who was betrothed to her.
Yet see her shameless.
(Yolanda moves apart.)
Rather the convent and the crucifix,
Matin and Vesper in a round remote,
[Pg 41] And senseless beads, for such.—But what more now
Is she demanding?
Still to deceive Amaury?
(Speaks loathly.)
Will lead peace back to us ... and from us draw
This fang of fate.
As those that wedded love?
(A pause.)
Have a confession.
(Takes her hand.)
Of Camarin of Paphos——
I suffered in the furnace of suspicion
The fume and suffocation of the thought
That you were the guilty one—you my own wife.
(She recoils to Yolanda, who comes up.)
[Pg 42] ... Yet—it is just
That you recoil even as now you do
From stain upon your wedded constancy....
But Time that is e'er-pitiful may pass
Soon over it—
And leave only forgiveness. And perhaps
Then I shall win you as I never have.—
Now the request.
(Sees Yolanda harden. Is impelled.)
Amaury may not know of this ... not know
This trouble fallen from a night or evil—
Pitiless on us as a meteor's ash.
And to this wanton's perfidy to bind
Him witless to her—with a charm perhaps—
Or, past releasing, with a philtre? She
Whom now he holds pure as a spirit sped
From immortality, or the fair fields
Of the sun, to be his bride?
Not I shall wed him! (Winningly.) Only that you spare
To separate us with this horror; that
You trust me to dispel his love, to pall
And chill his passion from me. For I crave
Only one thing—innocence in his sight.
[Pg 43] Believe!—believe!
Yet madder I, if to this coil my brain
Were blind.
If you attend me not!
And may have destiny you cannot know.
But you will heed?
For somewhere in you there is tenderness.
Once when you chafed in fever and I bore
White orange blossoms dewy to your pillow
You touched my hand gently, as might a father.
(Caresses his.)
I sang—I know not why—of lost delights,
Of vanished roses that are ere recalling
May to the world, you came and suddenly
Lifted my brow up silent to your kiss.
Ah, you remember; you will hear me?
Though you are cunning.—Thus you wove the mesh
About Amaury—till he could not move
Beyond you.
No sake but to o'ersway him with your eyes
In secret, thus, and with
Your hair that he believes an aureole
Brought with you out of Heaven.
[Pg 44]
Desiring much your peace.
There's midnight in this thing and mystery.
Does she not love—Camarin?
Be all—all as you will.
But brings to me no light—only again
The stumbling in suspicion.
To-morrow then, unless Amaury runs
Fitting revenge through Camarin of Paphos,
Your lover, you shall clasp him openly
Before all of Lusigman.
The thought of it is soil!... Rather ... his death!
The unaccustomed wind of these ill hours
Has torn tranquillity from her and reason.
(Strains to smile.)
(Goes, looking steadfastly back.)
His mood and mien—that tremor in his throat,
Unfaltering. I fear him.
No step was ever taken in the world
But from a brink of danger, or in flight
From happiness whose air is ever sin.
It sickens me.
Here in my breast. (Sits.)
Who as a guest came pledged into this house.
Came with the chivalry and manly show
Of reverence and grace, and on his lips
Lore of the east and wonders of the west.
(Camarin appears from garden.)
Ready of step, impassive, cold! And see—
(He bows, then listens rigidly.)
Can he not smile too on his handiwork?
Our days were merciful and he has made
Each moment's beat a blow upon the breast.
Honour was here and innocence lies now
A sacrifice that pain cannot consume.
(Pauses.)
[Pg 46] A help for it or healing? you who know
So well the world and its unwonted ways!
A man would have, a man.
My brain an arid waste under remorse.
Only—one thing it yields—the love of her
My love has made unholy.
The shame is left, and silence—no defence,
When it is told Amaury, "See her you
Blest with betrothal and the boon of faith,
Chose as the planet-mate of your proud star!
While, in the battle,
You with the weal of Cyprus on your brow
Dared momently peril,
We found her" ... Ah, the memory is fire!——
I will not bear it.
Though for your suffering I am pitiful.
You must! (Takes her wrist.)
For to one thing, one only now I'm bent——
That Berengere be saved.
I must keep from her still.
My heart they trample the lone flower of hope.
(Shaking off his hand, then, unnaturally wrought up.)
[Pg 47]
Enough is here without——
Despite of them! in to his side and say
That I am innocent—as the first dawn
And dew of Eden!... Yes!
Folly! you wander!
(Hassan appears.)
(Is numb as he hurries down from the castle to her. A pause; then her voice falls hoarsely.)
They've told him?
Last night, pouring his potions—
She and Lord Renier. They broke his sleep.
He listened to them as one in a grave.
Then they besought of him
Some oath against you, were they right: he would not.
Now he has risen,
Silent and pale and suffering in leash.
He's coming here.
[Pg 48]
(Voices are heard perturbed within the castle. Then Amaury, putting aside Renier and Tremitus, followed by Vittia and others, enters down.)
These wounds and all your wants were urging it!
Yolanda! my Yolanda!—Never, never!
(Takes her to him.)
Her that I hold here in my arms is more
To me than any peril.
My precious physic wasted!
For ... my Yolanda!...
You who are purity if Mary still
Is mother of God and lighteth Paradise!
You in whose presence I am purged as one
Bathing a thousand years in angel song!
They say, you, who are stainless to my eyes
As is the sacring-bell to holy ears,
So undefiled even the perfect lily
Pendant upon your breast fears to pollute it!
Listen, they tell me you—A fool, a fool
Would know it unbelievable and laugh.
You are my father, and, I must believe,
Mean well this monster breath's unchastity,
[Pg 49] As does this lady (of Vittia) who has gently nursed me.
But you were tricked; it was illusion swum
Before your sleep. Therefore my purpose is
Now to forget it.
Now to my drugs.
The lash in hunger of the wonted bone?
(Laughs angrily.)
You cannot duped innoculate me with.
Trust in my veins makes of it but more love.
And to dispel your minds (goes to Camarin) I'll clasp his hand
Whom you have so accused.
(Smiles disdainfully.)
Ago she was embraced.
But this to all, I answer!—
There is my mother, see,
Wounded with wonder of this plight, and pity.
Yolanda has dwelt by her
As the fawn
By the white doe on mount Chionodes.
I would as quick believe that she had given
[Pg 50] Her holiness up to contamination
As that Yolanda——
(A pause.)
Hear no more of it, ever!
Be deaf to it as to a taunt of doom,
In triple mail to every peaceless word,
Granite against even its memory.
Say that you will, and now!...
Allure him yet to wed you?
Away from here to any alien air,
To opiate India, a lost sea-isle!
To the last peak of arid Caucasus.
Your peace and this compelling pain ... Ah no!
To me her words shall be—me and no other.
So my Yolanda now dissolve the cling
Of this invisible but heavy hydra;
I've striven with it till no more I can.
[Pg 51] If any tare has been unseemly sown
Upon the April vision of our love,
Say it at once that I may rend and fling it
Away from us. Say it!
Yet ask her this, If she three nights ago——
She knows what I would bid and does she hurl
Her soul in any disavowal?
Will speak to her alone. Go all of you
There to the fountain.
One searching of my face shall free your fear.
Alone, alone.
I cannot suffer more of this.
To breathe ever the burning of this mist
Of anguish and insatiate accusal.—
This wound upon my throat, fever it not
With longer fire of doubt, Yolanda.
(She passes into the castle.)
[Pg 52] I found her in the arms of Camarin,
Drinking the frenzied wine of passion he
Poured from his soul.
Dumb to deny it.
You've driven her with dread and awe.
Fiercely disown.
(He staggers slowly back.)
Even a moment
To the divinity of love high-altared
Here in my breast! to the immutable
Beauty of it!... look, look not on me so—
As I had struck, murdered a little child!
Or palsied one who put a hand to help me;
Or through eternity had desecrated,
Vainly, virginity and trust and truth!
No, my Amaury! I ... do you not see?
(Hysterically.)
But only this——
[Pg 53]
(A moment, then she sinks down, her face in her hands. Amaury groans; then starting goes fiercely to Hassan, and taking his sword recrosses trembling to Camarin.)
An image of the Magdalen within
The chapel yonder fell—presaging this.
Only your death, your death or mine stands pale
Between us now, awaiting silently.
Draw, and at once.
To the guilt I bear, or to the misery
That guilt has brought upon you.
Still in the love that you a thief have stolen.
So, with your steel——!
Crush you as one a viper with his heel,
Though I must take your leper throat into
My hands and strangle life from it!
For the same sky you breathe I will not.
The sun that falls upon you shall not foul
My being—
[Pg 54] Though I must go down into hell for it.
(He starts, frenzied, to strike, but suddenly staggers; then clasps at his throat, drops the sword, and sinks down moaning.)
(Runs to him. He struggles to his feet.)
(She falls back; he laughs in derision.)
(Looks long at her.)
(Starts into the castle.)
Guileless Yolanda, you shall wed with him
Your paramour of Paphos——
(Yolanda, for a moment whelmed, tries to laugh scorn; but, turning, her eye meets Renier's full of suspicion. He follows Amaury meaningly into the castle.)
Curtain.[Pg 55]
ACT III
The Same Day.
Scene: The Hall and loggia of Act I.; but toward sunset, and afar, on the flushed sea, are seen the fisher-boats returning pale-winged to shore. In the left distance, also, a portion of Famagouste is visible above the waves—its orient walls and towers, white domes and houses, interspersed with tall palms. The interior of the Hall is the same; only the divan is placed to the front and left, the lectern near the balcony leading to the sleeping apartments and to the chapel. Smarda is lying lithely on the divan, beguiled with her charms and amulets, and from time to time giving a low, sinuous laugh. Vittia enters, watches a moment, thoughtful, then advances.
Think that you are—if ever the leopard yields.
But first I have thought of requital.
You prize so——
Across the sea (darkening) they came with me.
Whence you were torn by the Moor who was your master.
(Sees Smarda snarl.)
(Works lividly at the charms.)
You shall not want, I think,
Of gold for weightier witchery upon him.
(The slave's eyes gleam.)
Still to achieve this wedding, though we have
Camarin with us, willing. So I've learned
A ship has come from Venice.
With papers that will help.
To vaunt of love in Lusignan and babble.
I shall be in this place with lord Amaury,
Whom I must ... but no matter.
He left me suddenly
A season since, seeing his father's look
Strangely upon his mother: for that doubt,
His father's, still I've been compelled to feed,
To move Yolanda.—
Here I shall be, then, here within this place.
(She goes engrossedly.)
A talisman with might upon the Moor!
(Begins to dance—a charm held up before her.)
(Whirls faster with a wild grace, swaying to and fro, and chanting softly the while, till suddenly a laugh in the corridor stops her, and Pietro is heard through the curtains adoring Civa, who pushes him into the Hall, then runs away laughing.)
(Turns.)
(Bows grandly.)
Who, you're aware, am sought
Of all the loveliest
Attendant on the lords and high of Venice.
You may remember.
And then they sigh.
They weep and pine—until I must console them.
(He is startled.)
From Venice.
That you delay the powers of the Senate
Sent in your keeping to her.
(As he twitches.)
And then—then of your amorous mouthings yonder!
(Fumbles for them.)
That I was led astray
By the little Cyprian with guiling eyes
Who fell enamoured of me at the gate.
(Still searching.)
For—for a lady by the marble knight,
That is, by the fountain, swooned, as——
Out by the fountain.
Lady Yolanda? lady Berengere?
(He stares at her ardour.)
The papers, quickly!
(She has seized them, and is gone. He follows amazed. Sunset begins without, crimson and far. Amaury appears from the loggia, reckless, worn. He pauses, looks about him, troubled.)
(Goes to divan and sits. Vittia enters behind.)
(Starts up.)
(Vittia advances inquiringly.)
Deeper than sight but pressing at my peace.
My father's look! you saw it!
Fear in my mother!
No need, my lord—though your pang too I marked—
For, trust me, ere to-morrow it will cease—
If you are firm.
Fitly reply, but I——
So as a flail of doubt it should not still
Beat in you—when Yolanda
Is wed with Camarin ... no, do not speak;
The reason for your sake I must withhold.
[Pg 61]
Sirocco!
(Rises, a pause.)
(He looks surprised.)
A chance—my love to him.
(Turns away.)
That he awaking sudden from the potion
Surprised the dew of it upon my lips.
No, and I would that gentle words might be
As waters of enchantment on his grief——
But of Yolanda—
(Rises.)
With Camarin.
Heir of a sceptred line,
And yet may reach—the realm.
Her hope was?
(A pause.)
[Pg 62] Alone would serve you. That I must not bring
My tongue to falter.
(He has turned away.)
Will ... for you suffer!
Will, though indelicacy seem to soil
What bloom I boasted.
Let her think ... let her,
But for to-day,
That you, for she's aware of my affection,
Have chosen—to wed me.
To-morrow I return to Venice, then—
Denial.
(She waits repressed—as he struggles.)
For the issue's utterance. And this wear you,
This token of our race,
(Takes off his ring.)
(He puts it on Vittia's finger.)
Now of my mother.
(Smarda glides in.)
(Sees the slave's look, which stirs him.)
Why are you here?... Those papers—but your lips!
(Takes the papers.)
(Follows Smarda's eye.)
(Amaury turns dazed and goes.)
This is again fortune!... fortune!
[Pg 64]
Nothing. She was returning from the rocks
Where nest the windy gulls (gloatingly)
As I came hither. I stole there at noon
To see her suffer.
She will come here. Go to the curtains, see.
If she is near, the Paphian is in
The bower by the cypress: go, tell him,
The loggia—at once ... Ah!
(Yolanda enters.)
(Her look of purpose changes to one of distrust. But she firmly fronts to Vittia, as the slave slips out.)
This ne'er-before-envenomed air would banish.
(Slowly) One whose abiding
These walls would loathe aloud—had they a tongue
To utter.
Ere all is done—since still it is my purpose.
Would lie preventing; so there is no fear.
(Sits.)
[Pg 65]
Evening is done, you will become his wife?
Do not look scorn on Vittia Pisani.
(Rises.)
Be done to lift my hope out of this ruin!
To bring Amaury grateful to my feet!
And I will do it.
To win his father's lenience?... No ... I see!
You would when she who's guilty
And this enamoured Paphian are fled!
(Yolanda turns pale.)
I needed ... Her wings are flightless. She is ill,
Verging—go learn!—to death.
And you alone, she knows, can put it far—
Since she is numbed and drained
Momently by the terror of her husband,
Whose every pulse seems to her a suspicion.
[Pg 66]
His doubt that would have sunk!
Merely to sigh—and fear her innocence
Can only seem simple again as dew
If you wed freely Camarin of Paphos.
Trampled and tore!
Though with the wounds of battle he you "love"
Is livid still.
For he is—now security has come.
(Shows ring; Yolanda falls back.)
He is not! no, Amaury!... He? so soon?—
Ah, you are merciless!
How to compel your pity to my ends;
For you will spare his mother.
And past all season of recovery?
Shattering love for ever at my feet?
No, you are duped. For empty, cold are the veins
Now of submission in me; numb and dead
The pleading of it. And upon you, back,
I cast the burden of your cruelty.
(Slowly.)
But you——
And you will wed him.
But am not; so remorse has come in you!
There at the gates that guard your rest you hear
Dim now the risen phantom cries of it,
The presage beat of them like hungry hands
That will o'erwhelm you!
All that I could to spare her I have done;
All that was duty and of love the most.
But you it was who struck and kindled first
Within Lord Renier fire of suspicion.
Then yours the penance!
(Recovers herself.)
You—well I know—will not desert her thus
To ... the medusa of his doubt.
(With exultance.)
But you it is—
[Pg 68] For in the worst that live there still is heaven!—
Must null his doubt and ease the sobbing ebb
And flood of her sick spirit; you who must
Go to his fear and with persuasion say
That it is folly of him and of you
So to suspect her, since in Camarin's
Arms I was found. You will!
(Draws out the papers scornfully.)
Sent me of Venice
To make Amaury lordly over Cyprus,
Or to abase him even of Famagouste;
Which I will do—
(Goes to her.)
Though not to be his wife and free to leave him,
This Paphian,
And with him from Lusignan hence will pass,
(Camarin appears on loggia.)
In league with you! in this!
And ready skilfully to disavow,
With every force, your innocence—if you
Attempt betrayal!—
Enter, my lord of Paphos—
(Camarin enters desperately.)
She has not pledged to wed you—though the life
Of Berengere Lusignan fall for it,
And though Amaury ... But you may avail.
(Moves off. Yolanda stands silently between them. Camarin looks at her, falters, then turns on Vittia.)
Venetian, I covet this—covet!
Yet ... I will not entreat it of her.
(With grave joy.)
Though he would waste the air of the world to keep
The breath still in the veins
Of her his love so wronged,
He cannot ask me more than breast can bear
Knowing I have already borne for her
Infection worse than fetid marshes send
From Mesaoria—
Have lost the sky of love that I had arched
And all the stars of it. See, he is dumb!—
He cannot.
[Pg 70]
And to your pity.
(The word overwhelms her anew.)
Endurance ever dure!
What have I left
Of joy to ripple in me or of light
To sway me to forgetting—I to whom
Dawn was enchanted incense once, and day,
The least of earth, an ides of heaven bliss.
What to me left! to me!
Who shepherded each happy flock of waves
Running with silvery foaming there to shore,
Who numbered the little leaves with laughing names
Out of my love,
And quickened the winds with quicker winds of hope,
That now are spent ... as summer waters,
Leaving my breast a torrent's barren bed.
Pity and pity! ever pity! No.
(Enter Hassan.)
But you, cruel Venetian ... Ah, ah,
Mother of God! is there no gentleness
In thee to move her and dissolve away
This jeopardy congealing over us?
(A pause.)
(Sinks to a seat in despair.)
(Advances.)
My brain less weary!
(Is half heedless.)
Seize her and shut her fast an hour within
The leprous keep, and she shall write whate'er
You order; then upon a vessel quick
Be sent to Venice whence she came.
Venice would rise!
But 'tis not, lady! and Lord Renier
[Pg 72] Shall have a letter of her guile and flight.
Venture it, venture!
It shall be.
(She stands defensive, as Hassan prepares to close in.)
(His eyes are fixed on the balcony.)
(They look and fall back appalled. For slowly down the steps comes Renier following Berengere, whose eyes turn back in fluttering trance upon him.)
Lord Renier!
(Runs; takes Berengere in her arms.)
And sinking!... Go away from her, go go!
You are her murderer?
(Laughs bitterly, and at a loss, as if amazed. Then, almost against her will, led, to the end—)
That you have had of her.
To wed with Camarin.
I show befitting shame that I was here
Found in his arms ... when to Amaury
I was betrothed!
I grieve to leave Lusignan, this my home—
Where I have dwelt as under tented love—
Though I am bidden.
Now I will wed him, heedless, wantless, wild.
Send for the priest and for Amaury, for
Laughter and lights and revelry—for all
Within this castle. But first to her bed,
And to tranquillity,
She must be borne, she your cold violence
Has driven here.... Alessa—Tremitus!
(They have entered.)
(To Hassan.)
I soon may come and seek forgiveness.
(Hassan goes.)
Long must I lie!...
So can the blood do—trick us utterly!
(He supports her—with Alessa—slowly up steps and off. Yolanda covers her eyes. Hassan returns with Moro, then, and Amaury, whose look seeks Vittia.)
Speak, speak, and tell him!
Are sent for to behold Yolanda wed,
As you commanded,
Here unto Camarin. Shame has till now
Withheld her, but ... what ails you?
The sudden blood up to my wounds.
I say, withheld her. But she now has chosen.
Vows I have kept—
(Takes a packet from his breast.)
(Hands it; she lets it fall.)
Muffle my sword from him that now she weds.
(His voice breaks tonelessly.)
The Church invests me and the powers of
This island here to make you man and wife.
Be joined, ye who have sinned,
In soul, peace and repentances for ever.
(He signs the cross. Yolanda stands dazed. A silence. Then a shuddering cry and all turn toward the balcony, where Alessa bursts, pale, wild, and striving to speak.)
(Chokes rebelliously.)
And tell her I have wed him! mother! cannot!
(Goes trembling, belieflessly, up the balcony. A strange doubt seizes Amaury. On the rest is silence, consternation, and fear.)
Curtain.[Pg 76]
ACT IV
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—
(Rubs her eyes again.)
It is as if her spirit still imprisoned
Hovered beneath the pallor of her face
And strove to speak. Good father!
(Enter Moro.)
There in the sacristy.
To aid your rites before her burial
Have come, and wait.
(Looks closely at her.)
(Is going. He stops her.)
Some question. Do you understand this wedding?
The evil that has risen in this house?
Speak.
Has been 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.
(A pause.)
Plunging for truth? What is't?
Are waiting.
What you shall rue——
(Goes quickly, troubled.)
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.)
Of the Ascension. You?
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 ...
For ministrations other than the tongue's.
Prepare that altar—masses for the dead.
[Pg 79] 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.
(Moro goes. They put off cant and set to work.)
We'll have good wine for this!
None's like the Chian! and to-morrow, meat!
Last week old Ugo died and we had pheasant.
To wife or maid—till we have sipped!
Though 'tis a Friday and the Pope is dead!
(Silence. They work faster.)
Olympio, the cock who fetched us, said
That image fell first on the day——
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.)
They briefly bide.
[Pg 80]
I lay that it is wise 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.
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.
It will not totter again. (Descends.)
Upon the head of —— (catches herself; calmly)
You are awaited
There in the sacristy.... The chant begins!
(The acolytes go. She grows more disquieted.)
Heedless, though Lord Amaury's desperate
As is the Paphian!... They near!... The curtains!
(Goes to them and draws them back. As she does so the chant swells louder. Then the cortège enters—Moro, the acolytes with tapers; Berengere on a litter, Amaury, Renier, Vittia, the women, Hassan, and[Pg 81] last Yolanda. The litter, Amaury by it, comes to the altar; the chanting ceases.)
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.
(It is placed.)
Then bliss Afar for ever!
(Turning; brokenly.)
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.)
Freight all of you this tide of night with prayer.
[Pg 82]
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.)
(Goes to bier.)
(Nobly.) Yes, though you hold me purgeless of that sin
Only the pale arch-angels 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.
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
[Pg 83] Hard on the haunted flight before my father,
Whose lips refuse.
Is need.
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.
(Goes again to bier.)
Near! would it were to hear me and impart
Its yearning and regret to us who live,
[Pg 84] 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!
(She starts back from the bier.)
(Rushes to bier and shakes it.)
(Consternation. Some fall to their knees.)
They open! open!
Yolanda's innocent, and I ... 'twas I.
(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.)
Yolanda; what is this?
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.)
Thou'rt vowed in heaven.
[Pg 86]
(He staggers and sinks back heavily toward the pillar. There is breathless, strained suspense. Then he strikes the sacred column, and as he does so the image above sways, totters and crushes upon him. A cry, "The Magdalen!" goes up around.)
He's dead.
(A pause.)
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.)
That still as a madness measures to your sight.
Bear him without.
(The limp body is borne away. All follow but Amaury, Yolanda, Renier.)
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.)
I took her place within the Paphian's arms.
(Overcome) Pure as the rills of Paradise, endured?
(With deep abandon.)
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.)
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.
LYRICS
JAEL
I slew him, that Sisera, prince of the host Thou dost hate.
But fear of his blood is upon me, about me is breathen
His spirit—by night and by day come voices that wait.
His face was as wool when he swooned at the door of my tent.
The Lord hath given him into the hand of perdition,
I smiled—but he saw not the face of my cunning intent.
[Pg 92] He lay in the tent under purple and crimson of Tyre.
He slept and he dreamt of the surge and storming of battle.
Ah ha! but he woke not to waken Jehovah's ire.
A dog out of Canaan!—thought he I was woman alone?
I slipt like an asp to his ear and laughed for the sight he
Would give when the carrion kites should tear to his bone.
My heart was a-leap with rage and a-quiver with scorn.
And I danced with a holy delight before and behind him—
I that am called blessed o'er all who're of Judah born.
I cried as I lifted the door wherein Sisera lay.
[Pg 93] "To me did he fly and I shall be called his destroyer—
I, Jael, who am subtle to find for the Lord a way!"
Sang Deborah, prophetess, under her waving palm.
"Behold her, ye people, behold her the heathen's abasher;
Behold her the Lord hath uplifted—behold and be calm.
Why roll not the wheels of his chariot? why does he stay?
Shall he not return with the booty of battle, and glisten
In songs of his triumph—ye women, why do ye not say?"
And stood, until Egypt pressed in to be drowned unto death.
My breasts were as fire with the glory, the rocks that were under
[Pg 94] My feet grew quick with the gloating that beat in my breath.
But his bones stood up in the moon and I shook with affright.
The strength shrank out of my limbs and I fell a craven
Before him—the nail in his temple gleamed bloodily bright.
I slew him, that Sisera, prince of the host Thou dost hate.
But fear of his blood is upon me, about me is breathen
His spirit—by day and by night come voices that wait.
His gods haunt the winds and the caves with vengeance that cries
For judgment upon me; the stars in their courses deride me—
The stars Thou hast hung with a breath in the wandering skies.
[Pg 95]
Take from me his spirit, take from me the voice of his blood.
With madness I rave—by day and by night, defamation!
Jehovah, release me! Jehovah! if still Thou art God!
MARY AT NAZARETH
Thou art so good to me!—
But Thou hast only lent Him,
His heart's for Thee!
Not ask a prophet-child:
Only a boy-babe laden
For earth—and mild.
Seems not for earth—or me!
His lips flame truth from heaven,
And vanity
When He but speaks Thy Law;
Out of my heart the tares
Are torn by awe!
[Pg 97]
So strangely burn His eyes—
Hath not some grieving drawn Him
From Paradise?
Yet oft I almost fall
Before Him—Oh, forgive, Lord,
My sinful thrall!
A baby at my breast,
It seemed He was dispersing
The world's unrest.
And from our heavy sin
I know He shall release us,
From Sheol win.
That He may sometimes be
Like other children, learning
Beside my knee,
For help,—comes to my heart....
Ah sinful, Lord, I'm speaking—
How good Thou art!
OUTCAST
But crept close up to Christ and said,
"Is He not here?"
The seraphs who had never bled
Of weary lack—
With torn robe, clutching at His feet,
"Dear Christ! He died
Is He not here? Three days, unfleet
As mortal flow
Till Heaven's amaranthine ways
Seem as sere nought!"
"He is not here," troubled He sighed.
"For none who dies
Bend lips to this sin-healing Tide,
And live alway."
Within me, and drear bitterness.
Out of its throes
"Let me go hence! Take off the dress,
The charms Thou hast
Beliefless too am I without
His love—and lone!"
They led me, tho' with pitying doubt.
I did not wait
Its portal, turned not once to heed
Or know my loss.
And with it every loveless creed—
Beneath love's stroke.
ADELIL
Why does she lie so cold?
(I made her shrink, I made her reel,
I made her white lids fold.)
She like a Valkyr free.
(I hated the glitter of her braids,
I hated her blue eye's glee!)
Icily blew the night.
(But tears unshed and woes that bleed
Brew bitterness and spite.)
"Prince where the sea-winds fly!"
(Her love!—it was for that he died,
And for it she should die.)
[Pg 101]
A heart within its lees.
(I laughed like the dead who feel the thaw
Of summer in the breeze.)
And sudden they grew appalled.
("It is thy lover's heart!" I shrill
As the sea-crow to her called.)
Ease there against her breast?
(Dead—dead she swooned, but I cannot live,
And dead I shall not rest.)
THE DYING POET
Drawing my heart with thee over the west!
Done is its day as thy day is done,
Fallen its quest!
Tho' to arise again out of the dawn.
Sink while I praise thee, ere thro' the dark link
Of death I am drawn!
I like a child could cry for it again—
Cry for its beauty, pang, fleeting and strife,
Its women, its men!
Opened its heart with the magic of grief!
Reaped every season—its day and its night!
Loved every sheaf!
[Pg 103]
Never a flower swung sweet to my face,
Never a heart that was touched of God,
But taught me its grace.
Fingering Death, for again I must see
Miraged by memory all that I met
Under Time's lee.
Under the eyes does a marvel not burn?
Speak they not vision, song, frenzy to dare,
That still in me yearn?...
Still you can answer with whirling the thought!
Still like the mountain-born rapid can dart,
Joyous, distraught!...
Come thou invisible Dark with thy mask!
Shall I not learn if she lives? and could
I more of thee ask?...
Where love's sad planet unveils to the dusk.
Something is stealing like light from my breast—
Soul from its husk ...
[Pg 104]
Where the high hermit-bell hourly tolls,
Bury me, near to the haunting tread
Of life that o'errolls.
ON THE MOOR
1
A-wading down the heather;
She put her hand into my own,
We crossed the fields together.
A cottage mid the clover.
I left her—and the world grew poor
To me, a childless rover.
2
The morrow was her wedding.
Love lit her eyes with lovelier hues
Than the eve-star was shedding.
And o'er the stile went singing.
Down all the lonely night I heard
But bridal bells a-ringing.
3
By a new grave a-praying.
The happy swallows in the blue
Upon the winds were playing.
"And he beside her standing!"
There was no heart to break if death
For me had made demanding.
HUMAN LOVE
And of that Life—which some await—
Beyond the grave.
"It will be fair," she said,
"But love is here!
I only crave thy breast
Not God's when I am dead.
For He nor wants nor needs
My little love.
But it may be, if I love thee
And those whose sorrow daily bleeds,
He knows—and somehow heeds!"
OH, GO NOT OUT
Go not, my sweet, to Swalchie pool!
A witch tho' she be dead may charm
Thee and befool.
Down under ooze and salty weed,
She'll make thee hear—and then her own!
Till thou shall heed.
The sorcery within her cry—
Till madness out of thee upstart,
And rage to die.
And as afloat his chill hand lay,
"Ha, ha! to hell I sent his wraith!"
Did she not say?
[Pg 109]
The ring that bound him to her spell?—
But on her closed his hand—she saw ...
Oh, who can tell?
The dead hand held her cold and fast:
The tide crawled in o'er rock and swale,
To her at last!
He holds her—Oh, go not a-near!
For none has heard her cry but wept
And died that year.
CALL TO YOUR MATE, BOB-WHITE
And I will call to mine.
Call to her by the meadow-gate,
And I will call by the pine.
The windy wheat sways west.
Whistle again, call clear and run
To lure her out of her nest.
With Mary down the lane
I'll walk, in the dusk of locust tops,
And be her lover again.
And that our hair is gray.
We'll kiss as we kissed at pale sunset
One summer's halcyon day.
[Pg 111]
Still calling—calling still?
We're coming—a-coming, bent and weighed,
But glad with the old love's thrill!
TRANSCENDED
Oft held her to my heart
And spoke of days when we should love no more—
In the long dust, apart.
Spirit with flesh must die.
Tho' heart should pray and hope make endless plea,
Reason would still outcry.
I heard the dull clod's dole,
And then I knew she lived—that death's dark lust
Could never touch her soul!
THE CRY OF EVE
Midnight lay Eve by her outdriven mate,
Pillowed on lilies that still told the sweet
Of birth within the Garden's ecstasy.
Pitiful round her face that could not lose
Its memory of God's perfecting was strewn
Her troubled hair, and sigh grieved after sigh
Along her loveliness in the white moon.
Sudden her dream, too cruelly impent
With pain, broke and a cry fled shuddering
Into the wounded stillness from her lips.
Then, cold, she fearfully felt for his hand,
While tears, that had before ne'er visited
Her lids with anguish, stinging traced her cheeks.
Her moan on the pale air, "What have I dreamed?
Now do I understand His words, so dim
To creatures that had quivered but with bliss!
Since at the dusk thy kiss to me, and I
Wept at caresses that were once all joy,
[Pg 114] I have slept, seeing through Futurity
The uncreated ages visibly!
Foresuffering phantoms crowded in the womb
Of Time, and all with lamentable mien
Accusing thee and me!
And some were far
From birth, without a name, but others near—
Sodom and dark Gomorrah ... from whose flames
Fleeing one turned ... how like her look to mine
When the tree's horror trembled on my taste!
And Nineveh, a city sinking slow
Under a shroud of sandy centuries
That hid me not from the buried cursing eyes
Of women who gave birth! And Babylon,
Upbuilded on our sin but for a day!
To be first-called out of the earth and fail
For a whole world! To shame maternity
For women evermore—women whose tears
Flooding the night, no hope can wipe away!
To see the wings of Death, as, Adam, thou
Hast not, endlessly beating, and to hear
The swooning ages suffer up to God!
And O that birth-cry of a guiltless child!
In it are sounding of our sin and woe,
With prophesy of ill beyond all years!
Yearning for beauty never to be seen—
Beatitude redeemless evermore!
[Pg 115] And I whose dream mourned with all motherhood
Must hear it soon! Already do soft skill,
Low-babbled lulls, enticings and quick tones
Of tenderness—that will like light awake
The folded memory children shall bring
Out of the dark—move in me longingly.
Yet thou, Adam, dear fallen thought of God,
Thou, when thou too shall hear humanity
Cry in thy child, wilt groaning wish the world
Back in unsummoned Void! and, woe! wilt fill
God's ear with troubled wonder and unrest!"
The fever from her lips. Over the palms
The sad moon poured her peace into their eyes,
Till Sleep, the angel of forgetfulness,
Folded again her wings above their rest.
THE CHILD GOD GAVE
To draw this dreary want out of my breast,"
I cried to God.
"Give, for my days beat wild
With loneliness that will not rest
But under the still sod!"
And little fingers stealing aimlessly
About my heart.
I was like one who slips
A-sudden into Ecstasy
And thinks ne'er to depart.
"And babble baby love into my ears—
How it will thrill!"
I waited—Oh, the dread,
The clutching agony, the fears!—
He was so strange and still.
[Pg 117]
When they came shrinkingly to tell me 'twas
A witless child?
No ... I ... I only gave
One cry ... just one ... I think ... because ...
You know ... he never smiled.
MOTHER-LOVE
And from the River
Dip her cool grails of radiant Life.
The angels would bring to her,
Sadly a-quiver,
Laurels she never had won in earth-strife.
O'er the star-spaces—
Silent by worlds where mortals are pent.
Yea, even would sigh with her,
Sigh with wan faces!
When she sat weeping of strange discontent.
Here in God's heaven—
Is it not fairer than soul can see?"
"'Tis fair, ah!—- but keepest thou
Not me depriven
Of some one—somewhere—who needeth most me?
[Pg 119]
Over these meadows,
Tho' He has robed me and crowned—yet, yet!
Some love-fear for ever shades
All with sere shadows—
Had I no child there—whom I forget?"
ASHORE
I'm a-longing for the sea!
What are the flowers that dapple the dell,
And the ripple of swallow-wings over the dusk;
What are the church and the folk who tell
Their hearts to God?—my heart is a husk!
(I'm a-longing for the sea!)
But on the peaceless sea!
Never a child was glad at my knee,
And the soul of a woman has never been mine.
What can a woman's kisses be?—
I fear to think how her arms would twine,
(I'm a-longing for the sea!)
But still the homeless sea!
Where I may swing my sorrow to sleep
In a hammock hung o'er the voice of the waves,
[Pg 121] Where I may wake when the tempests heap
And hurl their hate—and a brave ship saves.
(I'm a-longing for the sea!)
But in the graveless sea!
Where is no stone for an eye to spell
Thro' the lichen a name, a date and a verse.
Let me be laid in the deeps that swell
And sigh and wander—an ocean hearse!
(I'm a-longing for the sea!)
LOVE'S WAY TO CHILDHOOD
Upon this sunny lane,
But children who have never known
Love's joy or pain.
The bird that o'er us darts—
We do not know 'tis they that thrill
Our childish hearts.
The ploughing means no more
Than that they like to walk the fields
Who plough them o'er.
Are not a World to-day—
But just a place God's made for us
In which to play.
LISSETTE
Under the anger.
But see what came out of it!
Cloaking in languor
And heartache to flatter her.
She yielded—brittle.
God spare me the rest of them!
For, was it little?
She thought 'twas not bad of her,
Flaunty Lissette!"
My rage was undammable....
Look at the gaping.
No?—then you're her pitier!
Loose me the strapping—
I'll lay one more kiss on her.
TEARLESS
It cannot be!
For I have sat here by his side,
Breathing dear names against his face,
That he must list to were his place
Over God's throne—
Yet have I wept no tear and made no moan.
Grief seems in vain.
Do women weep?—I was his bride—
They brought him to me cold and pale—
Upon his lids I saw the trail
Of deathly pain.
They said, "Her tears will fall like Autumn rain."
Dropped on his lips,
Might burn him back to life and years
Of yearning love, would any rise
To flood the anguish from my eyes—
And I'm his bride!
Ah me, do women weep when men have died?
THE LIGHTHOUSEMAN
Burn the clouds with opal fires;
When the stars forget to glisten,
And the winds refuse to listen
To the song of my desires,
Oh, my love, unto thee!
Churn against my stormy tower;
When the petrel flying faster
Brings an omen to the master
Of his vessel's fated hour—
Oh, the reefs! ah, the sea!
Turn the light across the storm;
You are watching, fisher-maiden,
For the token flashes laden
With a love death could not harm—
Lo, they come, swift and free!
[Pg 127]
Two—"I swear me thine!"
Three—Ah, hear me tho' you sleep!—
Is, "Love, I know thee mine!"
Thro' the darkness, One, Two, Three,
All the night they sweep:
Thro' raging darkness o'er the deep,
One—and Two—and Three.
BY THE INDUS
Late,
I have waited thee long.
The nightingale's flown to her nest,
Sated with song.
The champak hath no odour more
To pour on the wind as he passeth o'er—
But my heart it will not rest.
Late,
For the moon is a-wane.
The kusa-grass sighs with my sighs,
Burns with my pain.
The lotus leans her head on the stream—
Shall I not lean to thy breast and dream,
Dream ere the night-cool dies?
[Pg 129]
Late,
For he did not come!
A pariah is my heart,
Cast from him—dumb!
I cannot cry in the jungle's deep—
Is it not time for Nirvana's sleep?
O Death, strike with thy dart!
FROM ONE BLIND
Thy hair ripple of sunbeams, and thine eyes
Violets, April-rich and sprung of God.
My barren gaze can never know what throes
Such boons of beauty waken, tho' I rise
Each day a-tremble with the ruthless hope
That light will pierce my useless lids—then grope
Till night, blind as the worm within his clod.
I touch thy cheek—and know the mystery hid
Within the twilight breeze; I smoothe thy hair
And understand how slipping hours may twine
Themselves into eternity: yea, rid
Of all but love, I kiss thine eyes and seem
To see all beauty God Himself may dream.
Why then should I o'ermuch for earth-sight care?
AT THE FALL OF ROME
A.D. 455
He's god o' the world.
Up with the cup—
Let no man shiver!
Up with the cup—
Let no man shrink!
Drink to death,
He's lord o' the breath
Of mortals hurled from the world
Into Oblivion's river!
And then—to the dust!
Fill with a will—
And quaff like a lover!
Fill with a will—
Who dares a Nay!
Drink to Death!...
He lies who saith
That life is just—'tis a crust
Tossed to a slave in his hover!
[Pg 132]
Who recks for the rest?
Love is above—
Or Hate, what matter?
Love is above—
Or Hell below.
Drink to Death,
For vile is the peth
Of Rome, and Shame is her name!
Then drink, and the goblet shatter!
PEACELESS LOVE
For want of love, for beating loud and lonely,
Pray the great Mercy-God to give you only
Love that is passionless within the breast.
A vision that shall steal insatiably
All beauteous content, all sweet desire,
From faith and dream, star, flower, and song, and sea.
Knowing they have for ever been but one—
Meet and be surest when ill's chartless weather
Drives blinding gales of doubt across their sun.
Pray—pray! lest love uptorn shall seem as nether
Hell-hate and rage beyond oblivion.
SUNDERED
With but a breath of spirit speech, a thought;
Who can within earth's arms lay the mad sea
Unserverably, and count it as sheer nought—
With His All-might can bind not you and me.
Knowing this fatal spell that so enthralls,
Still would our souls, unhelpably apart,
Stand aliens—beating fierce against the walls
Of dark unsympathies that 'tween us start.
Stands aliens, aye, and would! tho' we should meet
Beyond the oblivion of unnumbered births—
Upon some world where Time cannot repeat
The feeblest syllable that once was earth's.
WITH OMAR
Musing the mystery of mortals o'er,
And soon with answers alternate we strove
Whether, beyond death, Life hath any shore.
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling.
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing."
No heart for Wine. Must we not cross the Sky
Unto Eternity upon his wings—
Or, failing, fall into the Gulf and die?"
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;
But you, Friend, take the Cash—the Credit leave,
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!"
[Pg 136]
Spend all upon the Wine the while I know
A possible To-morrow may bring thirst
For Drink but Credit then shall cause to flow?"
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust unto Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and—sans End!"
But can the soul not break the crumbling Crust
In which he is encaged? To hope or to
Despair he will—which is more wise or just?"
Turns Ashes—or it prospers: and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
Lighting a little hour or two—is gone."
And like it goes—for all our plea or sway.
But flooding tears nor Wine can ever purge
The Vision it has brought to us away."
Nor Whence, like water willy-nilly flowing;
And out of it, as Wind along the waste,
We know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing."
[Pg 137]
But is forsooth our Darkness evidence
There is no Light?—the worm may see no star
Tho' heaven with myriad multitudes be dense."
And, all unasked, we're Whither hurried hence?
O, many a cup of this forbidden Wine
Must drown the memory of that insolence."
Still by that quenchless soul within us hid,
Which cries, 'Feed—feed me not on Wine alone,
For to Immortal Banquets I am bid.'"
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled:
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her lap from some once lovely Head."
More beautiful spring Hyacinth and Rose,
Will the great Gard'ner for the uprooted soul
Find Use no sweeter than—useless Repose?"
To-day of past regret and future fears:
To-morrow!—Why, To-morrow we may be
Ourselves with yesterday's sev'n thousand Years."
[Pg 138]
More during than Regret and Fear—no, none!
For Wine that's Wine to-day may change and be
Marah before to-morrow's Sands have run."
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same door wherein I went."
Reason become a Prison where may wither
From sunless eyes the Infinite, from hearts
All Hope, when their sojourn too long is thither."
I rose, and on the throne of Saturn sate,
And many a Knot unravelled by the Road—
But not the Master-knot of Human fate."
That scattered Saturn and his countless Band
Like seeds upon the unplanted heaven's Air:
The Truth we reap from them is Chaff thrice fanned."
And naked on the air of Heaven ride,
Wer't not a shame—wer't not a shame for him
In this clay carcass crippled to abide?"
[Pg 139]
More of the Saki's Mind than we can reach
Through aeons mounting still from Sky to Sky—
May open through all Mystery a breach."
Account and mine should know the like no more;
The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has poured
Millions of bubbles like us, and will pour."
But, in each bubble, hope there dwells a Breath
That lifts it and at last to Freedom flies,
And o'er all heights of Heaven wandereth."
Of Being from the Well amid the Waste—
And Lo!—the phantom Caravan has reached
The Nothing it set out from—Oh, make haste!"
Who drink shall drink of Immortality.
The Master of the Well has much to spare:
Will He say, 'Taste'—then shall we no more be?"
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all your tears wash out a word of it."
[Pg 140]
The Letter of some Sorrow in whose place
No other sounding, we should fail to spell
The Heart which yearns behind the mock-world's face."
Kindle to Love, or Wrath—consume me quite,
One flash of it within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright."
And everywhere that Love hath any Cost
It may be found; the Wrath it seems is but
A Cloud whose Dew should make its power most."
Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains;
Taking all shapes from Mah to Mahi; and
They change and perish all—but He remains."
The soul seems quenched in Darkness—is it so?
Rather believe what seemeth not than seems
Of Death—until we know—until we know."
Of This and That we strive o'er and dispute.
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter Fruit."
[Pg 141]
Across our Path by glories of the Unknown
Lest we may think we have no more to live
And bide content with dim-lit Earth alone."
Before us passed the door of Darkness through
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too?"
Love in Life's All we still should crave the word
Of one returned. Yet none is sure, we know,
Though they lie deep, they are by Death deterred."
Some letter of the After-life to spell:
And by and by thy Soul returned to thee
But answers, 'I myself am Heaven and Hell.'"
Through Earth where living Goodness though 'tis blent
With Evil dures, may he not read the Voice,
'To make thee but for Death were toil ill-spent'?"
At last shall find us by the river-brink,
And offering his Cup invite our souls
Forth to our lips to quaff, we shall not shrink."
[Pg 142]
Death without waking were the fateful brew,
Nobler it were to curse as Coward Him
Who roused us into light—then light withdrew."
Beset the Road I was to wander in,
Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round
Enmesh, and then impute my fall to sin."
To ultimate Debasing, oh, be sure
'Tis not of Him predestined, and the sin
Not His nor ours—but fate's He could not cure."
That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that on the branches sang—
Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows?"
Yet Summer comes, and Autumn's honoured ease;
And wintry Age, is't ever whisperless
Of that Last Spring, whose Verdure may not cease?"
Arrest the yet unfolded roll of Fate,
And make the stern Recorder otherwise
Enregister or quite obliterate!"
[Pg 143]
He toils eternally, nor asks Reprieve.
And could Creation perfect from his hands
Have come at Dawn, none overmuch should grieve."
We strove, and silent turned at last away,
Thinking how men in ages yet unborn
Would ask and answer—trust and doubt and pray.
A JAPANESE MOTHER
(In Time of War)
Down on the brink of the river.
My baby sleeps by the bamboo copse—
The bamboo copse where the rice field stops:
The bamboos sigh and shiver.
I must pray to Inari.
I hear her calling me low and chill—
Low and chill when the wind is still
At night and the skies are starry.
Your lord who went to battle.
How shall your baby now be fed,
Ukibo fed, with rice and bread—
What if I hush his prattle?"
[Pg 145]
And the bamboo stems are swaying.
Inari was deaf—and yet the lack,
The fear and lack, are gone, and the rack,
I know not why—with praying.
Some other god was kinder.
I wonder why he has heard my call,
My giftless call—and what shall befall?...
Hope has but left me blinder!
SHINTO
(Miyajima, Japan, 1905)
Shrine where the spirits of wind and wave
Find the worship and glory we
Give to the one God great and grave—
Shrine of the dead, I hang my prayer
Here on your gates—the story see
And answer out of the earth and air.
Were by the children of Nature built.
Ages have on you smiled—and dew
On you for ages has been spilt—
Mossy and mellowing ever makes:
Wrapped as you are in lull—or rhyme
Of sounding drum that sudden breaks.
[Pg 147]
Too may reverence all of life,
Beauty, and power and miss no high
Awe of a world with wonder rife.
Temples and torii on each place
That I have loved—O hear it, Air,
Ocean and Earth, and grant your grace!
EVOCATION
(Nikko, Japan, 1905)
Booms the temple bell,
Down from the tomb of Iëyasu
Yearning, as a knell.
Silently has knelt,
Many a pilgrimage of millions—
Still about it felt.
Now, as the numb sound
Floats as unearthly necromancy
From the past's dead ground.
Hear their soundless feet
Climbing the shrine-ways to the gilded
Carven temple's seat.
[Pg 149]
Passes waning by.
What is it tells me mystically
That strange one was I?...
Dies the bell—'tis dumb.
After how many lives returning
Shall I hither come?
Ever mossy ways?
Who shall the gods be then, the millions,
Meek, entreat or praise?
THE ATONER
(Penance for Summer's enverdured sheaves).
Bitterly, cruelly, bleakly he lashes
His limbs that are naked of grass and leaves.
(Sins of the revelrous days of June)—
Moans while the sun drifts dull from the heaven,
Giftless of heat's beshriving boon.
(Long will the day-god aloof frown cold),
Long will earth listen the rue of his dirging—
Till the dark beads of his days are told.
INTIMATION
For I heard the March-wind feel
Blindly about in the trees without
For buds to heal.
In the rain-wet woods and fields,
The coming flowers and the glad green hours
That summer yields.
At the blue-bird's wooing cheep,
Winter with all its chill and pall
Seemed but a sleep.
IN JULY
To the white sycamores that dell them in;
Where crow and flicker cry melodious din,
And blackberries in ebon ripeness glance
Luscious enticings under briery green.
It will slip under coppice limbs that lean
Brushingly as the slow-belled heifer pants
Toward weedy water-plants
That shade the pool-sunk creek's reluctant trance.
And lady phlox within the hollow's cool;
Cedar with sudden memories of Yule
Above the tangle tipped with blue skullcap.
The high hot mullein fond of the full sun
Will watch and tell the low mint when I've won
The hither wheat where idle breezes nap,
And fluffy quails entrap
Me from their brood that crouch to escape mishap.
[Pg 153]
That gullies the dense hill up to its peak,
There dally listening to the eerie eke
Of drops into cool chalices of clay.
Then on, for elders odorously will steal
My senses till I climb up where they heal
The livid heat of its malingering ray,
And wooingly betray
To memory many a long-forgotten day.
Of afternoon. The bending azure frothed
With silveryness, the sunny pastures swathed,
Fragrant with morn-mown clover and seed-fleece;
The hills where hung mists muse, and Silence calls
To Solitude thro' aged forest halls,
Will waft into me their mysterious ease,
And in the wind's soft cease
I shall hear hintings of eternities.
FROM ABOVE
And the hills are dark
And the skies are gray.
For crows that cark
At the rough wind's way.
Or the sullen road
By the sullen wood.
To bear my load!
So enough, the day is good!
SONGS TO A. H. R.
I.
THE WORLD'S, AND MINE
The wind at his trees,
The lark in her skies,
The sea on his leas;
May hear the song rise
From the breast of a woman
And think it as dear
As heaven tho' human.
But I have a music they can never know—
The touch of you, soul of you, heart of you. Oh!
All else that is said or sung 's but a part of you—
Ever to me 'tis so!
II.
LOVE-CALL IN SPRING
(Oh, heart o' my heart, come into the wood!)
Is singing the air to gladness new
As the breaking bud
And the freshet's flood!
(Oh, love o' my life, fly unto me here!)
Of violets coming ere April's spent—
But the frog's shrill cheer
And the crow's wild jeer!
(Oh, soul o' my heart, why tarry so long!)
But sun that is sweeter upon the trees
Than rills that throng
To the brooklet's song!
(Oh soul o' my soul, haste unto me, haste!)
For spring is below and God is above—
But all is a waste
Without thee—Haste!
III.
MATING
What shall we do with the April days!
Kingcups soon will be up and swinging—
What shall we do with May's!
Out on the bough he flutters, a flame.
Thrush-flutes echo "For mating's elating!
Love is its other name!"
Dearest, than ever a bird in Spring,
Know we to make each moment a debtor
Unto love's burgeoning!
IV.
UNTOLD
Implant the truth of you,
Seize it and sow it
As Spring on the world.
There were no need
To fling (forsooth) of you
Fancies that only lovers heed!
No, but unfurled,
The bloom, the sweet of you,
(As unto me they are opened oft)
Would with their beauty's breath repeat of you
All that my heart breathes loud or soft!
V.
LOVE-WATCH
Who camps about thy heart,
Never to flee thine enemy,
Nor from thee turn apart.
And hide thy stars away,
With vigil sweet his wings shall beat
About thee till the day.
VI.
AS YOU ARE
But heart of sun,
Pity and hope
That rill and run
With flowing fleet
To heal the defeat
Of all Life has undone.
But soul as clear,
Trusty and fair
As e'er drew near
To clasp its mate
And enter the gate
Of Love that casts out fear.
But, there is seen
In them the most
That earth can mean;
The most that death
Can bring—or breath
There—in the bright Unseen!
VII.
AT AMALFI
Waken! the night is calling.
Sit by me here—with the moon's fair shine
Into your deep eyes falling.
Lean from the casement, listen!
Anear, it breaks with a faery spume,
Spraying the moon-path's glisten.
As eternity in slumber.
O, you who are mine, how a glance can reap
Beauties beyond all number!
O'er yon far promontory.
"Amalfi!" ... Shall we ever forget
Even Above this glory?
[Pg 162]
Our spirits rock together
On a sea of love—lit as this tide
With tenderest star-weather!
Your breast is against me beating.
Amalfi!... Never a night shall win
From God again such fleeting.
Over the moon low-dying.
Come, come away—we have drunk the cup:
Ours is the dream undying!
VIII.
ON THE PACIFIC
The moon-path gleams before.
A day and a night, a night and a day,
And the way, love, will be o'er.
And never a sail have seen.
The sky above and the sea below
And the drifting clouds between.
And light and joy have slept.
Nor ever lonely has seemed the wave
Tho' heaving wild it leapt.
Within our vows of love
To breathe us over all seas of life—
On to that Port above
[Pg 164]
Shall anchor them or send
Them forth on a vaster Voyage, yea,
On one that shall not end.
Together still shall sail.
O may it be, my own, or may
We perish in death's gale!
THE WINDS
And Nimbus is his steed;
Out of the dusk with the lightning's thin
Blue scimitar he flies afar,
Whither his rovings lead.
The Dead Sea waves
And Egypt caves
Of mummied silence laugh
When he mounts to quench the Siroc's stench,
And to wrench
From his clutch the tyrant's staff.
Who scours the Autumn's crest.
Dashing the forest down as a slave
He tears the leaves from its limbs and weaves
A maelstrom for his breast.
Out of the night
Crying to fright
[Pg 166] The earth he swoops to spoil—
There is furious scathe in the whirl of his wrath,
In his path
There is misery and moil.
And cruel, armed with death!
Born in the doomful deep of the old
Ice Sea that froze ere Ymir rose
From Niflheim's ebon breath.
And with him sail
Snow, Frost, and Hail,
Thanes mighty as their lord,
To plunder the shores of Summer's stores—
And his roar's
Like the sound of Chaos' horde.
The Spring, his serenade.
Over the mountain, over the moor,
He blows to bloom from the winter's tomb
Blossom and leaf and blade.
He ripples the throat
Of the lark with a note
Of lilting love and bliss,
And the sun and the moon, the night and the noon,
Are a-swoon—
When he woos them with his kiss.
THE DAY-MOON
Across the vacant day-blue dimly trailing!
A Circe—mystic destinies divining;
Torn from a seraph's wing in sinful weather,
Of Paradise, unto the land of mortals.
My heart with mystery, as thy updrawing
And leaves lorn beaches barren of its motion;
"For him!—that storms may take not unawares!"
Across the vacant day-blue dimly trailing!
Thy phantom life thro' day, and high enthroning
With star-hieroglyphs, leave thee unharassed
Till in earth's shadow swept thy glowings ashen.
TO A SINGING WARBLER
Was ever a bird so wrong!
"No young in the nest, no mate, no duty?"
Ribald! is this your song?
The Spring and its nuptial fear?
"Freedom is better than love?" beware you
There will be May next year!
Wait till the winter comes!
Till kestrel and hungry kite seek booty
And there are so few crumbs!
The false little song you prate!
Too sweet are its fancies to be chidden,
E'en of the rudest fate!
TO THE SEA
Of heaven, so to uplift thine armèd waves,
Thy billowing rebellion 'gainst its ease,
And with Tartarean mutter from cold caves,
From shuddering profundities where shapes
Of awe glide through entangled leagues of ooze,
To hoot thy watery omens evermore,
And evermore thy moanings interfuse
With seething necromancy and mad lore?
Of countless dead, thou mighty Alchemist,
Within whose stormy crucible the stones
Of sunk primordial shores, granite and schist,
Are crumbled by thine all-abrasive beat?
With immemorial chanting to the moon,
And cosmic incantation dost thou crave
Rest to be found not till thy wild be strewn
Frigid and desert over earth's last grave?
[Pg 171]
With raving deaf, with wandering forlorn;
Parent of Demogorgon whose dire mind
Is night and earthquake, shapeless shame and scorn
Of the o'ermounting birth of Harmony.
Bound in thy briny bed and gnawing earth
With foamy writhing and fierce-panted tides,
Thou art as Fate in torment of a dearth
Of black disaster and destruction's strides.
Incarnate Motion of all mystery!
Whose waves are fury-wings, whose winds are hurled
Whither thy Ghost tempestuous can see
A desolate apocalypse of death.
Oh, how thou dost drive silence from the world,
With emerald overflowing, waste on waste
Of flashing susurration, dashed and swirled
'Gainst isles and continents and airs o'erspaced!
Gathered from primal mist and firmament;
A surging shape of Life's unfathomed moan,
Whelming humanity with fears unmeant.
Yet do I love thee, O, above all fear,
And loving thee unconquerably trust
The runes that from thy ageless surfing start
Would read, were they revealed, gust upon gust,
That Immortality is might of heart!
THE DEAD GODS
Which is Oblivion, the house of Death.
I thought there blew upon my soul the breath
Of time that was but never more can be.
Its Void, blind, deaf, and motionless, until—
Though with no eye nor ear—I felt the thrill
Of seeing, heard its phantoms move and sigh.
He once had been a god,—"Persephone,
Tear from thy brow its withered crown, for we
Are king and queen of Tartarus no more;
Why dost thou clasp it still? Cast it away,
For now it hath no virtue that can sway
Dull shades or drive the Furies to their spoil.
[Pg 173]
Perchance some unobliterated spark
Of memory shall warm this dismal Dark.
Perchance—vain! vain! love could not light such gloom."
Another as in travail of some thought
Near unto birth; and soon from lips distraught
By aged silence, fell, with hollow woe:
And Acheron make moan of night and cold?
Were we upon Olympus as of old
Laughter of thee would rock its festal height.
Or cold were more unknown than impotence!
See the unhurlèd thunderbolt brought hence
To mock me when I dream I still am Jove!"
And lay again ten thousand lifeless years;
And then my soul shook, woke—and saw three biers
Chiselled of solid night majestically.
As with the silence of eternity.
Numbing repose dwelt o'er them like a sea,
That long hath lost tide, wave and roar, in death.
[Pg 174]
A spirit hieroglyphed unto my soul,
"Ptah, Ammon, and Osiris—they who stole
The heart of Egypt from the God of gods:
That stood around—Baal, Ormuzd, Indra, all
Whom frightened ignorance and sin's appall
Had given birth, close-huddled in despair.
Down whose descent still other forms a-fresh
From earth were drawn, by the unceasing mesh
Of Time to their irrevocable end.
Still taunt with wails for help."—Then a deep light
Upbore me from the Gulf, and thro' its might
I heard the worlds cry, "God alone is God!"
AT WINTER'S END
Where cattle shiver under sodden hay.
The plough-lands long and lorn—
The fading day.
And winds that wring the writhen trees in vain
For drearier sound or look—
The lonely rain.
In endless caravans that have no goal
But flight—where darkness flies—
From Pole to Pole.
That shrink in misty mournfulness from sight,
With sunset aureoles crowned—
Before the night.
APRIL
And April, oh, out under the blue!
The brook is awake and the blackbird loud
In the dew!
Beside the wood with its shake and toss,
Know it—the frenzy of bluets to reach
Thro' the moss!
Up wildly sweet he's over the mead!
Is more than the rapture of earth can teach
In its creed?
'Tis, oh, enough to live and to love!
To laugh and warble and dream and dare
Are to prove!
AUGUST GUESTS
And down the valley.
He dimpled the cheek of the rill
With a cooling kiss.
Then hid on the bank a-glee
And began to rally
The rushes—Oh,
I love the wind for this!
And spilt his shower
Upon the lily-bud crest
And the clematis.
Then over the virgin corn
Besprinkled a dower
Of dew-gems—And,
I love the cloud for this!
AUTUMN
Or resting heaps of hay;
Or by the sheathing mists of mauve
That soothe the fiery day.
By redded hips and haws,
Or by the silence hanging sad
Under the wind's sere pause.
They are like Sorrow's breath;
And by this longing, strangely still,
For something after death.
THE WORLD
All mysteries that are.
Out of a Void it sprang—and to
A Void shall spring, afar.
Its Soul invisible.
There is no Void beyond that He
Abiding fills not full.
TO THE DOVE
1
Trembles around me in the summer dusk
That falls along the oatlands' sallow sheaves
And haunts above the runnel's voice a-husk
With plashy willow and bold-wading reed.
The solitude's dim spell it breaketh not,
But softer mourns unto me from the mead
Than airs within the dead primrose's heart,
Or breath of silences in dells begot
To soothe some grief-wan maid with love a-mort.
2
Didst woo my homeward path with tenderness,
Woo till the awing owlet ceased to cow
With his chill screech of quavering distress.
At phantom midnight wakened I have heard
Thy mated dreams from the wind-eerie elm,
[Pg 181] And as a potion medicined and myrrhed,
As an enchantment's runic utterance,
It would draw sleep back to her lulling realm
Over my lids till day should disentrance.
3
Who hath one fane—the heaven above thy nest;
One incense—love; one stealing litany
Of peace from rivered vale and upland crest.
Yea, thou art Hers, who makes prayer of the breeze,
Hope of the cool upwelling from sweet soils,
Faith of the dark'ning distance, charities
Of vesper scents, and of the glow-worm's throb
Joy whose first leaping rends the care-wound coils
That would earth of its heavenliness rob.
4
Cast at a myriad shrines our souls, to rise
Beliefless, unanointed, bound not free,
To sacrificing a vain sacrifice!
Let thy lone innocence then quickly null
Within our veins doubt-led and wrong desire
Or drugging knowledge that but fills o'erfull
Of feverous mystery the days we drain!
Be thy warm notes like an Orphean lyre
To lead us to life's Arcady again!
AT TINTERN ABBEY
(June, 1903)
Troubled of thy grave beauty shall be born;
Thy crumbling loveliness and ivy streams
Shall speak to me for ever, from this morn;
The wind-wild daws about thy arches drifting,
Clouds sweeping o'er thy ruin to the sea,
Gray Tintern, all the hills about thee, lifting
Their misty waving woodland verdancy!
In envy of thy desolated charm,
The summers and the winters, the sky's girth
Of sunny blue or bleakness, seek thy harm.
But would that I were Time, then only tender
Touch upon thee should fall as on I sped;
Of every pillar would I be defender,
Of every mossy window—of thy dead!
[Pg 183]
Upon the sod that is at last thy floor,
Who list the Wye not as it lonely moans
Nor heed thy Gothic shadows grieving o'er.
O Tintern, Tintern! trysting-place, where never
Is wanting mysteries that move the breast,
I'll hear thy beauty calling, ah, for ever—
Till sinks within me the last voice to rest!
THE VICTORY
Abyss at his back,
The peril of dark that pressed,
The doubts in a pack,
That hunted to drag him down
Have triumphed? and now
He sinks who climbed for the crown
To the Summit's brow?
Fallen and vain,
With gaze to the peak whose skies,
He could not attain,
The victory is, with strength—
No matter the past!—
He'd dare it again, the dark length,
And the fall at last!
SEARCHING DEATH'S DARK
With silence and sad fadings mystical
Of other years move thro' the mellow fields,
I turn unto this meadow of the dead
Strewn with the leaves stormed from October trees,
And wonder if my resting shall be dug
Here by this cedar's moan or under the sway
Of yonder cypress—lair of winds that rove
As Valkyries from Valhalla's court
In search of worthy slain.
And sundry times with questioning I tease
The entombed of their estate—seeking to know
Whether 'tis sweeter in the grave to feel
The oblivion of Nature's flow, or here
Wander as gleam and shadow flit her face.
Whether the harvesting of pain and joy
Ends with the ivied slab, or whether death
Pours the warm chrism of Immortality
Into each human heart whose glow is spent.
[Pg 186] Nor do my askings fall on the chill voids
Of unavailing silence. For a voice
Of sighing wind may answer, or it leaps,
Though wordless, from a marble seraph's face.
Or sometimes from unspeakable deeps of gold
That ebb along the west revealings wing
And tremor, like etherial swift tongues
Unskilled of human speech, about my heart—
Till, youth, age, death ... even earth's all, it seems,
Are but wild moments wakened in that Soul,
To whom infinities are as a span,
Eternities as bird-flights o'er the sun,
And worlds as sands blown from Sahara's wilds
Into the sea....
My wandered spirit from the wilderness
Of Mystery, whence none may find a path
To the Unknown, and like one who upborne
Has steered the unmeasured summer skies until
Their calm seems God, I turn transfigured home.
SERENITY
Of cot-strewn hills and fields long-harvested,
That lie as if forgotten were all green,
So bare, so dead?
Each pallid beech or silvery sycamore,
Outreaching arms in patience to divine
If winter's o'er?
The blue infinity of sky, the sense
Of meadows free to-day from icy pains—
From wintry vents.
Falling from eve's first star into the night,
Brings hope believing what it ne'er can know
With mortal sight.
TO THE SPRING WIND
Yester you dashed from the west,
Altho' it is Spring,
And scattered the hail with maniac zest
Thro' the shivering corn—in scorn
For the labour of God and man.
And now from the plentiful South you haste,
With lovingest fingers,
To ruefully lift and wooingly fan
The lily that lingers a-faint on the stalk:
As if the chill waste
Of the earth's May-dreams,
The flowers so full of her joy,
Were not—as it seems—
A wanton attempt to destroy.
THE RAMBLE
Which asters tangle,
Thro' the gap
Where green-briar twines,
By the path
Where dry leaves dangle
Down from the ivy vines,
By sedgy fallows
And along
The stifled brook,
Till it stops
In lushy mallows
Just at the bridge's crook.
O'er fence, thro' thicket,
To the mouth
Of the rough ravine—
[Pg 190] Where the weird
Leaf-hidden cricket
Chirrs thro' the weirder green—
O'er rocks—but quicker
Is the best
Of heart and foot,
As the beams
Above us flicker
Sun upon moss and root!
As wildness tingles
From the air
Into our blood—
With a cry
Thro' golden dingles
Hid in the heart of the wood.
With winds a-wrestle!
With the nut
And acorn strown!
Oh, the wood
Where creepers trestle,
Tree unto tree o'ergrown!
[Pg 191]
The ledging summit
Of the hill
Is reached in glee.
For an hour
We gaze off from it
Into the sky's blue sea.
And sunset's crimson
Soon recall
The homeward path.
And we turn
As the glory dims on
The hay-fields' mounded math.
And silent twilight
We come,
To the stile at last,
As the clear
Undying eyelight
Of the stars tells day is past.
RETURN
And silence filled the air—
I came last year to remember,
And muse, hid away from care.
It was here I came—the thistle
Was trusting her seed to the wind;
The quail in the croft gave whistle
As now—and the fields lay thinned.
Brown mows under mellow haze;
How a frail cloud-flock was creeping
As now over lone sky-ways.
Just there where the cat-bird's calling
Her mock-hurt note by the shed,
The use-worn wain was stalling
In the weedy brook's dry bed.
[Pg 193]
Of day-long dreams in the vines,
Chirred on like a doting rhymer
O'er-vain of his firstling lines.
He's near me now by the aster,
Beneath whose shadowy spray
A sultry bee seeps faster
As the sun slips down the day.
Like maidens waiting to dance.
They stood in the same shy poses
Last year, as if to entrance
The stately mulleins to waken
From death and lead them around:
And still they will stand untaken,
Till drops their gold to the ground.
And silence round me yearned.
Again I've come to remember,
Again for musing returned
To the searing fields assuaging,
And the falling leaves' sad balm:
Away from the world's keen waging—
To harvest and hills and calm.
THE EMPTY CROSS
And Christ lay shrouded in the garden's tomb:
Among the olives, Oh, how dumb,
How sad the sun incarnadined the gloom!
Reached empty arms toward the closing gate.
Jerusalem, oh, count thy loss!
Oh, hear ye! hear ye! ere it be too late!
The murmurous multitude within the wall
Already had forgot His pain—
To-morrow would forget the cross—and all!
Bending her brow bound with the nations' threne,
Would sweep all lands from Nile to Rhine
In servitude unto the Nazarene.
[Pg 195]
Ancestral shrines great with the glow of time,
And lifting up its token shake
Aeons with thrill of love or battle's crime.
Ah, Scribe and Pharisee, ye builded well!
The cross emblotted with His blood
Mounts, highest Hope of men against earth's hell!
SUNSET-LOVERS
Across how many a field,
Beside how many a river's whispery flowing,
They stand, with eyes a-thrill,
And hearts of day-rue healed,
Gazing, O wistful sun, upon thy going!
Forgotten sunless death;
Desire is gone—is it not gone for ever?
No memory of strife
Have they, or pain-sick breath,
No hopes to fear or fears hope cannot sever.
The west, and mystery
Moves deeper in their hearts and settles darker.
'Tis faded—the day's crown;
But strange and shadowy
They see the Unseen as night falls stark and starker.
[Pg 197]
Are spent, immovable
They stand, in awful ecstasy uplifted.
Zephyrs awake tree-lyres,
The starry deeps are full,
Earth with a mystic majesty is gifted.
Time were but pulsing pain,
And death no more than its eternal ceasing,
Would you not choose the throe,
Hold the oblivion vain,
To have beheld so many days releasing?
TO A ROSE
(In a Hospital)
Not because thy wak'ning lips
Were wooed to bloom by minstrel wind
Of Araby or Ind.
Into my soul—as if thou must
Be sprung of a mother's dust.
To thee for one long night—she whose
Pure heart I ne'er shall lose.
Afar from those who are my own,
Thou camest from hands unknown:
Therefore I love thee!
UNBURTHENED
Of gladness steepeth my still spirit as
I lift my gaze across the winter meads
Engarmented in stubble robes of brown.
For, as those solitary trees afar
Have reached unbudding boughs
To the dim warmth of the February sun,
And melted on the infinite calm of space,
So I have reached—and am no more distraught
With the quivering pangs of memory's yesterday.
But the boon of blue skies deeper than despair,
Of rests that rise
As tides of sleep,
And care borne on the plumes
Of swan-swift clouds away to the sullen shades
Of quelled snow-storms low-lying in the west,
Have lulled my soul with soft infinitude.
And now ... down sinks the sun,
Until, half-arched above the marge of earth,
It hangs, a golden door,
Through which effulgent Paradise beyond
[Pg 200] Burns seeming forth along the path of those
Who, crowned by Death with Life, pass to its portal.
How soon 'tis closed—how soon! The trumpetings
Of seraphs whose gold blasts of light break o'er
Purplescent passing battlements of cloud,
Sound clear ... then comes the dusk!
WHERE PEACE IS DUTY
Valley and hillside float;
Up to me wavering, softly insistent,
Wanders the wood-brook's note.
Cloud-sails await wind-tide.
Oh, for the skylands where soon they'll be wending—
And, unabiding, bide.
Stays for no throttle of pain!
Where the stars go at eve to their places;
Where silence never shall wane!
Thought but of sweetening beauty!
Where wanting's stilled in unwanting's completeness—
Where peace is duty!
WANTON JUNE
Sarcastic November
Laughed cold and glum
On the last red ember
Of forest leaves.
He was laughing, the scorner,
At me forlorner
Than any that grieves—
Because I asked him if June would come!
When snow-hearted winter
Gripped river and loam,
And the wind sped flinter
On icy heel,
I was chafing my sorrow
And yearning to borrow
A hope that would steal
Across the hours—till June should come.
[Pg 203]
The wanton!—I follow
Her steps, ever near,
To the shade of the hollow
Where violets blow:
And chide her for leaving,
Tho' half, still, believing
She taunted me so,
To make her abided return more dear.
AUTUMN AT THE BRIDGE
Soft rush of the wind,
Slow searing of sheaves
On the hill;
Green plunging of frogs,
Cool lisp of the brook,
Far barking of dogs
At the mill;
Hot hanging of clouds,
High poise of the hawk,
Flush laughter of crowds
From the Ridge;
Nut-falling, quail-calling,
Wheel-rumbling, bee-mumbling—
Oh, sadness, gladness, madness,
Of an autumn day at the bridge!
SONG
In dreams of infinite sorrow and delight.
Thro' an awaiting soul 'tis slipt
And lo, words spring that breathe immortal might.
TO HER WHO SHALL COME
1
Thee, as, in a chill chamber where no ray
Of unbelievable light and freedom fall,
Might cry one manacled! And tho' the way
Thou'lt come I cannot see; tho' my heart's sore
With emptiness when morning's silent gray
Wakes me to long aloneness; yet I know
Thou hast been with me, who like dawn wilt go
Beside me, when I have found thee, evermore!
2
I plant thee a flower. Now the pansy, peace,
And now the lily, faith—or now a spray
Of the climbing ivy, hope. And they ne'er cease
Around the still unblossoming rose of love
To bend in fragrant tribute to her sway.
Then—for thy shelter from life's sultrier suns,
The oak of strength I set o'er joy that runs
With brooklet glee from winds that grieve above.
3
The eve-star wander? Listening through dim trees
Some thrilled muezzin of the forest cry
From his leafy minaret? Or by the sea's
Blue brim, while the spectral moon half o'er it hangs
Like the faery isle of Avalon, do these
My yearnings speak to thee of days thy feet
Have never trod?—Sweet, sweet, oh, sealing sweet,
My own, must be our meeting's mystic pangs.
4
Dreaming, God called me thro' the space-built sphere
Of heaven and said, "Come, waiting one, and lay
Thine ear unto my Heart—there thou shall hear
The secrets of this world where evils war."
Such things I heard as must rend mortal clay
To tell, and trembled—till God, pitying,
Said, "Listen" ... Oh, my love, I heard thee sing
Out of thy window to the morning star!
AVOWAL TO THE NIGHTINGALE
Upon these airs, bird of the poet's love,
Yet must I sing thy singing! for the Night
Has poured her jewels o'er the lap of heaven
As they who've heard thee say thou dost above
The wood such ecstasies as were not given
By nestling breasts of Venus to the dove.
Still clung to by the tattered mists of day
And look for thee. Then has my hope grown bold
Till almost I could see how the near laurels
Would tremble with thy trembling: but the sway
Of bards who've wreathed thee with unfading chorals
Has held my longing lips from this poor lay.
Too high for earth may vie for praise with thee
In aery rhapsody. And since 'tis his
To sing of day and joy as thou of sorrow
[Pg 209] And night o'erhovering singest, thou'lt e'er be
More dear than he—till hearts shall cease to borrow
From grief the healing for life's mystery.
Its lyric trouble, still 'tis soothing sweet
To know that songs unheard and graces missed
By every eye melt on the skies that nourish
Us with immortal blue; and, changed, repeat
Their protean loveliness in all we cherish.
For beauty cannot die, howe'er 'tmay fleet.
STORM-EBB
Over the vale,
Lit by the kildee's silver sweeps,
Sad with his wail.
Into the night.
Burdens of day they seem—in crowds
Hurled from earth's sight.
Over the lake,
Tirelessly on o'er buoy and spar
Till they o'ertake
Vanish to wing
Still the bewildering night-fen,
Where the waves ring.
[Pg 211]
Out of the vale.
Dead from the dunes the winds arise—
Ghosts of the gale.
SLAVES
Upon the fields of Time—but still the wake
Of Progress loud is haunted with the groan
Of myriads, from whose peaceful veins, to slake
His scarlet thirst, has War, fierce Polypheme
Of fate, insatiately drunk Life's stream.
We bid the courier lightning leap along
Its metal path with spaceless speed—command
Stars lost in night-eternity to throng
Before the magnet eye of Science—stand
On Glory's peak and triumphingly cry
Out mastery of earth and sea and air.
But unto War's necessity we bare
Our piteous breasts—and impotently die.
WAKING
When sleep's oblivion is torn away
From love that died with dying yesterday
But still unburied in the heart lies on!
The sense of human waking o'er the earth!
The quivering memories of love's fair birth
Now strown as deathless flowers o'er its decease!
Striving for sovranty within the soul!
Oh, fear that life shall never more be whole,
And immortality but make it less!
FAUN-CALL
With a singing,
Down sunny roads where windy odes
Of the woods are ringing?
In a tangle
Of vines that vie to clamber high—
But to vault and dangle!
As a lover's
To leap and woo the chicory's hue
In the hazel-hovers!
O'er the shadows
Of clouds that fling their threatening
On the stubbly meadows!
[Pg 215]
And her laughter
From his lips and heart will quell all smart—
Of before and after!
LINGERING
When tryst and trust were o'er,
While memory like a wounded swan
In sorrow sung love's lore.
Had cried delicious pain
Over the wild-wood—in its thrill
I heard your voice again.
Blew to me sweetly dewed—
Its touch awoke the sorceries
Your last caresses brewed.
Had sown her starry seed,
The harvest which sprang in my heart
Was loneliness and need.
STORM-TWILIGHT
Beaten abaft by the rain,
The swallows high in the sodden sky
Circle oft and again.
Twitterless in the chill;
A-haste, for stark is the coming dark
Over the wet of the hill.
Into their chimney home.
A livid gash in the west, a crash—
Then silence, sadness, gloam.
WILDNESS
And blow with the blow of breezes,
To ripple with waves and murmur with caves,
To soar, as the sea-mew pleases!
And burn with the burning heaven—
My life! my soul! for the infinite roll
Of a day to wildness given!
BEFORE AUTUMN
Waned
As amber fires
Of an Aztec shrine.
The invisible breath of coming death has stained
The withering leaves with its nepenthean wine—
Autumn's near.
Moan
As memories
Of a chilling yore.
Magnolia seeds like Indian beads are strewn
From crimson pods along the earth's sere floor—
Autumn's near.
Steals
Her silent way
By the songless brook.
At the gnarly yoke of a solemn oak she kneels,
The musing joy of sadness in her look—
Autumn's near.
[Pg 220]
Days
When hope and toil
Are at peace and rest—
Autumn is near, and the tired year 'mid praise
Lies down with leaf and blossom on her breast—
Autumn's near.
FULFILMENT
Sad with the lingering sense of summer's purpose done,
The cut and searing fields stretch from me one by one
Along the creek.
Wearing autumnal warmth the farm sleeps by the mill,
Around each heavy eave low smoke hangs blue and still—
Life's flow is weak.
Ponder a fallen nut or quirking crow whose caws
Seem with prehuman hintings fraught or ancient awes
Of forest-deeps.
Nor Indian, with the silent stealth of Nature shod;
Deeps tense with the timelessness and solitude of God
Who never sleeps.
[Pg 222]
Gathered again into the earth leaf, fruit, and spray;
Here many times dwelt rueful as she dwells to-day,
The while she reaps.
TO THE FALLEN LEAVES
In the long nights of Winter and his wind—
And Death, the woeful, guilty of your fall,
Crying that he has sinned.
MAYA
(Hiroshima, Japan, 1905)
With set sails vanishing and slow;
In the blue west the mountains hide
As visions that too soon will go.
The peasant peacefully wades on—
As in unfurrowed vales of sleep,
A phantom out of voidness drawn.
The crow with carrion in his beak.
Buddha within lifts not his eyes
In pity or reproval meek;
A respite from the blinding sun,
The old priest—dreaming painless how
Nirvana's calm will come when won.
[Pg 225]
The world of will," the spent East seems
Whispering in me, "And the call
Of Life is but a call of dreams."
SPIRIT OF RAIN
(Miyanoshita, Japan, 1905)
With all thy ghosts of mist about the mountain, lonely
As a gray train
Of souls newly discarnate seeking new life only!
Leading them thro' dim torii, up fane-ways onward
Till not in vain
They tremble upon the peaks and plunge rejoicing dawnward.
So would I lead my dead thoughts high and higher,
Till they regain
Birth and the beauty of a new life's fire.
THE NYMPH AND THE GOD
A broken reed in her hand,
The nymph whom an idle god had wed
And led from her maidenland.
Two notes would the bent reed blow,
The one was sorrow, the other love,
Enwove with a woman's woe.
And he at feasting forgot.
The gods, shall they be disquieted
By dread of a mortal's lot?
A SEA-GHOST
And furl your wings.
The bay is gray with the twilit spray
And the loud surf springs.
Of all the drowned,
Who know the woe of the wind and tow
Of the tides around.
And let them rest—
A son and one who was wed and one
Who went down unblest.
Now labour most.
The tomb has gloom, but O the doom
Of the drear sea-ghost!
[Pg 229]
Beneath the wave,
Forlorn—to warn of the tempest born,
And to save—to save!
For only so
Can peace release us and give us ease
Of our salty woe.
LAST SIGHT OF LAND
I look again and lo
Only a faint and shadow line
Of shore—I watch it go.
Back to the cliff's gray wraith.
Will it be so of all our thoughts
When we set sail on Death?
As lone we fare and fast?
Grief and the face we love in mist—
Then night and awe too vast?
O see, from the lost shore
Kindling and calling "Onward, you
Shall reach the Evermore!"
SILENCE
Is beauty never born,
Is light forgotten—left unstirred
Upon Creation's morn.
DAVID
CHARACTERS
| Saul | King of Israel. |
| Jonathan | Heir to the throne. |
| Ishui | His brother. |
| Samuel | The Prophet of Israel. |
| Abner | Captain of the Host of Israel. |
| Doeg | An Edomite; chief servant of Saul, and suitor for Michal. |
| Adriel | A Lord of Meholah, suitor for Merab. |
| David | A shepherd, secretly anointed King. |
| Abishai | A follower of David. |
| Abiathar | A priest and follower of David. |
| A Philistine Spy. | |
| Ahinoam | The Queen. |
| Merab | Daughters of Saul and Ahinoam. |
| Michal | |
| Miriam | A blind prophetess, and later the "Witch of Endor." |
| Judith | Timbrel-players of the King. |
| Leah | |
| Zilla | |
| Adah | Handmaiden to Merab. |
| A Chorus of Women. A Band of Priests. Followers of David. Soldiers of Saul. People of the Court, &c. |
DAVID
ACT I
Scene: A Hall of Judgment in the palace of Saul at Gibeah. The walls and pillars of cedar are richly carven—with serpents, pomegranates, and cherubim in gold. The floors are of bright marble; the throne of ivory hung with a lion's skin whose head is its footstool. On the right, by the throne, and on the left are doors to other portions of the palace; they are draped with woven curtains of purple and white. In the rear, which is open and supported on pillars, a porch crosses a court. Through the porch, on the environing hills, glow the camp-fires of the Philistines, the enemies of Israel. Lamps in the Hall burn low, and on the floor Judith, Leah and Zilla are reclining restively.
[Pg 238] When was a laugh or any leaping here?
Never; and none to charm with timbreling!
(She goes to the porch.)
I'll not soil mine with sullen fear all day
Because these Philistines press round. As well
Be wenches gathering grapes or wool! Come, Leah.
(She prepares to dance.)
(Sits down.)
Who, who, now? who, who is it? dog, fox, devil?
And fury in him, sallow, souring fury!
A jackal were his mate! Come, come, we'll plague him.
The joy of rousing men to jealousy!
Look as for silly visions and for dreams!
(They pose. Ishui entering sees them. Judith sighs.)
Prince Ishui!
Will tell us! he will tell us!
O, is he come? when, where?—quick, quick. And will
He pluck us ecstasies out of his harp,
Winning until we're wanton for him, mad,
And sigh and laugh and weep to the moon?
Chaff of the king!
David a king! how beauteous would he be!
Have you not heard? Yesterday in the camp,
Among war-old but fearful men, he offered
Kingly to meet Goliath—great Goliath!
(Thrust from him, she goes, dancing with Zilla and Leah.)
Bidden you here for vapours ... tho' they had
Substance as well for you!
Laughter against him?
It is this shepherd!
Flinging enchantment on the palace air
Till he impassions to him all who breathe.
Dream-bringing amethyst and weft of Ind,
To wed my sister, Merab?
And you, lost in the maze of her, fare on
Blindly and find no reason for it!
(Goes to curtain, draws out Adah.)
Unclench your hands.
Answer; I am not milky Jonathan,
Answer; and for the rest—You hear?
The shepherd David!
She is unkind; I will not spy for her
On Michal, and I'll tell her secrets all!
And David does not love her—and she raves.
(Makes to strike her.)
(Adah goes.)
I tell you that he stands athwart us all!
The heart of Merab swung as a censer to him,
My seat at table with the king usurped!
Mildew and mocking to the harp of Doeg
As it were any slave's; the while we all
Are lepered with suspicion.
[Pg 242]
(Enter Michal, passing, with Miriam.)
A prophetess.
The throne shall pass from him, and darkens more
Against this boundless Philistine Goliath
Who dares at Israel daily on the hills,
As we were dogs!
But he is sent for—and will ease him—Ah!
He's wonderful to heal the king with his harp!
A waft, a sunny leap of melody,
And swift the hovering mad shadow's gone—
As magic!
His waiting and the winning o'er of Edom,
You are enamoured of this David too?
(She goes, calmly, with Miriam.)
Or must this shepherd put upon us more?
[Pg 243]
With Samuel the prophet fast enshrouds
Some secret, and has Samuel not told
The kingdom from my father shall be rent
And fall unto one another?
(Voices are heard in altercation.)
With prophecy or some refusal tears him!
(They step aside. Saul, followed by Samuel, strides in and mounts the throne.)
Pour seething prophecy into my veins,
Till a simoon of madness in me moves.
Am I not king, the king? chosen and sealed?
Who've been anathema and have been bane
Unto the foes of Israel, and filled
The earth with death of them?
And do you still forbid that I bear gold
And bribe away this Philistine array
Folded about us, fettering with flame?
Do I forbid! A champion must rise
To level this Goliath. Thus may we
Loose on them pest of panic and of fear.
[Pg 244]
None will arise—'tis vain. And I'll not wait
On miracle.
Michal, thy fairest, to whoever shall.
Ever vexation! No; I will not.
Out of Jehovah and a vast foreseen
I tell thee again, thou perilous proud king,
The sceptre shall slip from thee to another!
(He moves to go.)
You rouse afar the billowing of ill.
I grant—go not!—I grovel to your will,
Fear it and fawn as to omnipotence,
(Snatching at Samuel's mantle.)
When shall arise one, and Goliath fall!
(Goes slowly out by the porch, Saul sinks back.)
And yet I must not speak; come, Adriel,
(As if going.)
[Pg 245]
Yet how it creeps, and how!
Goliath slain—the people mad with praise,
Then fallen from you—Michal the victor's wife....
Fear on the people—panic—the kingdom's ruin!
Ah, then, if one arise? If one arise?
Merely a little moment!—
Your David with him.
To this you lead me—hatred against David!
To this with supple envy's easy glide!
As ever you are building and for ever.
[Pg 246] I'll hear no more against him—Abner!—no.
(To Abner, who enters.)
He is not come? Forever he delays!
(Remounts throne.)
(A harp is heard.)
Terrible Saul!
Vile on the hills shall he laugh who boasts
None is among
Great Israel's all
Fearless for Saul, King Saul!
(Entering with people of the palace.)
Galled of the sting,
Will at the soul of Goliath run?
Wring it and up
To his false gods fling?...
None for the king, the king?
(He drops to his knee, amid praise, before the throne.)
Away from him; 'tis overmuch.
I do not mock. Only the birds have wings.
Yet on the vales behind me I have left
Haste and a swirl, a wonderment of air,
And in the torrent's troubled vein amaze,
So swift I hurried hither at your urgence
Out of the fields and folding the far sheep!
(Comes down indeterminately.)
With sheeted passions like to lightning gusts.
(All have gone.)
(Slowly draws a dagger.)
Terrible fury stealing from the heart
And crouching cold within the eye, O Saul?
What is this ravage in you? Does the truth
So limpid overflow in palaces?
Never an enemy to venom it?
[Pg 248] Am I not David, faithful, and thy friend?
Reed as I am, could he not breathe and break?
And I should be oblivion at a word!
But under the terror of his might have I
Not seen his heart beat justice and beat love?
See, even now!...
"This David," and "This David!"
I cannot overleap this destiny?
Deeper the future gulf is for our fears.
Forget it. Forget the brink may ever gape,
And wield the throne so well that God Himself
Must not unking you, more than He would cry
The morning star from Heaven! Then, I swear it,
None else will!
[Pg 249]
Foolishly from the heart; a shepherd speech!
Give them no mood; but see, see yonder fires
Camping upon the peace of Israel,
As we were carrion beneath the sun!
Let us conceive annihilation on them,
Hurricane rush and deluging and ruin.
It eats in me the food of rest and ease.
And David, nearer: Samuel in my stead
Another hath anointed.
This should not fall to me, my lord; no more!
You cannot understand; it pains beyond
All duty and enduring!
Who is he? know you of him? do you? know you?
You sup the confidence of Samuel?
I'll search from Nile to Nineveh——
Under and over, search—and find.
(Enter Michal joyously.)
All here is dark and quivering as pain,
And a foreboding binds me ere I breathe!
David, you have not been as sun to him!
[Pg 250]
Dawn and delight in you!
(She stands unaccountably moved.)
What does it mean? I cannot speak! It shrinks
Shivering down upon my heart in awe!
Can any moving in the world so bring
Terror upon you! Speak, what is it?
I know not; danger rising and its wing
Sudden against my lips!
There—now again flows joy: I think it flows.
Not much desired discovery of whom
Samuel hath anointed?
(David blenches.)
(Realises.)
(She stands horrified.)
Have I not bidden swiftly! Ever then
Vexation? I could—Ah. Will she not speak!
Her lips could never seal upon a wrong.
Sudden divinity is on them, silence
Sent for the benison of Israel,
Else were it shattered by her love to you!
Believe, in all the riven realm of duty
There's no obedience from thee she would hold.
If it seem other——
(Enter Abner hurriedly.)
A spy's within our gates—and scorns to speak.
(Abner goes.)
(Goes trembling, his look bent backward still upon them.)
Michal!—for me you have done this, for me?
(She stands immovable.)
(Goes to her.)
Live sympathy and all love unto your father,
Yet you have shielded me?
I am the anointed, but all innocent
In will or hope of any envious wrong,
As lily blowing of blasphemy! as dew
Upon it is of enmity!
You whom the king uplifted from the fields!
Whom Jonathan loves more than women love!
Of my anointing Jonathan is 'ware,
Knows it is holy, helpless, innocent
[Pg 253] As dawn or a drift of dreaming in the night!
Knows it unsought—out of the skies—supernal—
From the inspirèd cruse of Samuel!
For Israel it dripped upon me, and
For Israel must drip until I die!
Or till high Gath and Askalon are blown
Dust on the wind, and all Philistia
Lie peopleless and still under the stars!...
Goliath, then, a laughter evermore!...
Still, still you shrink? do you not see, not feel?
Even as moonlit incense, spirit flame
Burning away all barrier!
Till even now my lids from anger falter
And the dew falls!
Upon my heart each tear were as a sea
Flooding it from all duty but the course
Of thy delight!
Fury were better, tempest! O weak eyes,
When 'tis my father, and with Samuel
You creep to steal his kingdom!
Utterly false and full of wounding!
[Pg 254] (Struggling, then with control.) Yet,
Forgive that even when thy arrows sink
Deeper than all the skill of time can draw,
I spare thee not the furrowed face of pain ...
Delirious wings of hope that fluttered up,
At last to fall!
(Moves to go.)
(He turns. She sways and reaches to him her arms. As they move together Doeg and Merab appear, but vanish from the curtains as Michal utters dismay.)
Were it the driven night-unshrouded dead!
Under the firmament is but one need,
That you will understand!
She's cunning, cold and cruel, and she loves thee;
Hath told her love to Ahinoam the queen!
And Doeg hates thee—since for me he's mad!
That gather up the desert for their blast,
Be it as Sheol deep, stronger than stars
That fling fate on us, and I care not, care not,
If I am trusted and to Michal truth!
[Pg 255] Hear, hear me! for the kingdom, tho 't may come,
I yearn not; but for you!
Since I a shepherd o'er a wild of hills
First beheld you the daughter of the king
Amid his servants, leaning, still with noon,
Beautiful under a tamarisk, until
All beauty else is dead——
I have been wonder, ecstasy and dream!
The moulded light and fragrant miracle,
Body of you and soul, lifted me till
When you departed——
Fell thro' infinity of void!
My hope sprung as the sun!
Here in this hall where cherubim shine out,
Where the night silence——
I waited, shepherd-timid, and you came,
You for the king to try my skill! you, you!
[Pg 256]
Have we not swayed and swept thro' happy hours,
Far from the birth unto the bourne of bliss?
Reveal my helpless chrism, give me to peril.
Say but the reason!
Miriam hath foretold——
Wed me with destiny against my father?
Dethrone my mother? Ah!
Never shall lift you!
Deep as divinity is deep, I swear.
If it shall come, the kingdom——
Surrender this anointing! Spurn it, say
You never will be king though Israel
Kingless go mad for it!
[Pg 257]
But to reign over Israel you care,
Not for the peace of it!
A seething on the lips, I'll say no more....
Care but to reign and not for Israel's calm?
I who am wounded with her every wound?...
Look out upon yon Philistine bold fires
Lapping the night with bloody tongue—look out!
(A commotion is heard within.)
The infinite in awe, to-morrow night
Not one of them shall burn!
I'll not believe; no, no, more than I would
From a boy's breath or the mere sling you wear
A multitude should flee! And you shall learn
A daughter to a father may be true
Tho' paleness be her doom until she die!
(She turns to go. Enter Jonathan eagerly.)
(They embrace. Michal goes.)
[Pg 258] The soldiers you.... But Michal's gone! No word?
Believing? tell me.
Let me forget it in a leap of deeds.
(The commotion sounds again.)
What is it? sprung of the Philistines? new terror?
This sounding giant flings again his foam?
Jonathan, I am flame that will not wait.
What is it? I must strike.
And do not bring dissuasion more, or pause.
Fiercely to silence.
Jonathan...!
Determination surges you o'erfar.
I will not see you rush on perishing,
Not though it be the aid of Israel.
Staining the hills, and starving us from peace.
[Pg 259] Rather the last ray living in me, rather
Death and the desecration of the worm.
Bid me not back with love, nor plea; I must!
(Enter Saul, with Samuel; soldiers with the spy, Ahinoam with Abner; and all the court in suppressed dread.)
Bitterly curve and grapple. But he shall
Learn there is torture to it! Set him forth.
(The spy is thrust forward.)
(It is done.)
Accursed Philistine! Now wilt thou tell
The plan and passion of the people 'gainst us?
(General movement of uneasiness.)
To overthrow Goliath ... Gods! the pain!
Even to sucking babes, they'll put to sword!
(A movement of horror.)
(She rushes frantically out.)
Alone is to be done. A champion,
To break this beetling giant down to death!
(A silence.) See you now.
Had I a mother out of Israel?
I am an alien, an Edomite.
(Steps forth.)
Has not this Philistine before the gates,
With insult and illimitable breath
[Pg 261] Vaunting of vanity and smiting laughter,
Boasted and braved and threatened up to Baal?
And now unless one slay him, Israel
From babe to age must bleed and be no more!
I am a shepherd, have but seized the lion
And throttled the bleating kid out of his throat;
Little it then beseems that I thrust in
Where battle captains pale and falter off;
But this is past all carp of rank or station.
One must go out—Goliath must have end.
Have I thrown doom not daring to your feet,
Ruler of Israel, that you rise wild,
Livid above me as an avalanche?
From you, my lord, dominion then will fall!
Or should it not ...
But courage sprung seraphic out of night,
Beautiful, yea, a bravery from God!
(She enters.)
It is not false? but now, the uttermost?
To-morrow, if Goliath still exult,
[Pg 262] There's peril of desolation, bloody ruin?
Father, unto will of yesterday
I bend me now with sacrificial joy.
Unto Goliath's slayer is the hand
Of Michal, the king's daughter!
Not it is David offers against Goliath?
(A low tumult is heard without. Enter a Captain hurriedly.)
Be mutiny unless, Goliath slain,
Courage spring up anew.
Ere longer waiting fester to disaster.
And Michal for his meed! or evermore
Evil be on you and the sear of shame—
And haunting memory beyond the tomb!
Of Ephes-Dammin. But I am not blind!
(To Abner.)
Yet—I am king, remember! I am king!
(Saul goes; murmurs of relief ... All follow, but Michal, past David with joy or hate.)
(She struggles against tears, but, turning, goes. He stands and gazes after her. Then a trumpet sounds and soldiers throng to the porch.)
(Goes toward them.)
Curtain.[Pg 264]
ACT II
Scene.—The royal tent of Saul pitched on one hill of the battlefield of Ephes-Dammin. The tent is of black embroidered with various warlike designs. To one side on a daïs are the chairs of Saul and Ahinoam; also David's harp. On the other side, toward the front, is a table with weapons. The tent wall is lifted along the back, revealing on the opposite hill, across a deep narrow valley, the routed camp of the Philistines; before it in gleaming brazen armour lies Goliath slain. Other hills beyond, and the sky above. By the small table, her back to the battlefield, sits Merab in cold anger. Ahinoam and several women look out in ecstasy toward David, Saul, Jonathan, and the army, returning victorious, and shouting.
Over the brook and bright amid hosannas!
Goliath's head high-borne upon a charger!
[Pg 265] The rocks that cry reverberant and vast!
The people and the palms!
Torn from the trees! The waving of them—O!
The king and Jonathan!... His glory
All the wild generations of the wind
Ever shall utter! Hear them—
(The tumult ascends afar.) "David! David!"
O queen! a sea of shouting!
Then go and lave you in this tide of joy.
(The women go rapturously. Ahinoam turns.)
Not hindering?
Are pledged to Adriel.
And if I do not love him there is—riches!
If he is Sodom-bitter to me—riches!
Sought me with any murmur or desire!
Though he is Michal's for Goliath's death!
Michal's to-day, unless——
Too near in you were ever love and hate.
(The tumult nears. Ahinoam goes to look out. Doeg enters to Merab.)
The king is worn, as a leper pent, between
Wonder of David and quick jealousy
Because of praise this whelming of Goliath
Wakes in the people.
(The tumult, nearer.)
To coldly sing of Saul, but of our David
(Watches her.)
Was never—and shall never be again.
(Takes a dagger.)
[Pg 267]
(Dips dagger in.)
This timbrel-player, Judith?
And ravishing!
Sudden, as Michal is alone with David,
To seize him with insinuative kisses,
And arms that wind as they were wonted to him.
Michal once jealous—and already I
Have sowed suspicions——
(Laughs.)
(The tumult near.)
(They go to look out. Shouts of "David! David!" arise, and timbrelers, dancing and singing, pass the tent opening; then priests with the Ark and its cherubim of gold. David, Saul, Jonathan, Ishui, and the court then enter amid acclamations. Before them the head of Goliath is borne on a charger, under a napkin. [Pg 268]Saul darkly mounts the throne with Ahinoam, to waving of palms and praise.)
(She kisses David's hand.)
Or seraph syllables new-sung to God!
Earth has not any rapture well for this!
David, my brother!
While life has any love, know mine for you.
And though my soul were morning wide it were
Helpless to hold my wonder and delight!
O people, look upon him!
Up to this glory!
(Looses his robe and girdle.)
In gold and purple, this my own, I clothe him.
David, my brother!
[Pg 269]
Of breath and ravishment unceasing!
The skies on it?
Ever so rich a rapture from his son?
Ever this worshipping of utterance?
Brimmed by the Philistines with bitterness,
Sudden is joy and overfloweth——
(He turns away laughing.)
King Saul has slain his thousands, David ten!
Thy servant, is he? servant?
I'll burst all bond of priest or prophesy.
Nor cringe to threatening and fondle fear.
(He seizes a javelin.)
For rapid palsy would come on thy hand,
Awful and sceptre-ruined lord of men,
An impotence, a shrivelling with fear,
Avenging ere thou shed offenceless blood!
(Saul's hand drops.)
Who once was kindlier than kindest are?
For but a woman's wantonness of word
And idle air, my life?
Hath put into her mouth this stratagem
Of fevered, false-impassioned overpraise.
(Saul, tortured, sweeps from the tent, entreated of Jonathan. Many follow in doubt, whispering.)
Goliath's dead——
(Only Michal and Merab are left with David; he waits.)
And wrought away from recompense so right.
Can you forgive him?
That even I now ask it?
Conquered to exultation and aglow
To wreathe you for this might to Israel,
Beautiful, unbelievable and bright!
Noble the dawn of it was in your dream,
Noble the lightning of it in your arm,
And noble in your veins the fearless flow
And dare of blood!—so noble that I ask
As a remembrance and bequest for ever,
In priceless covenant of peace between us,
A drop of it——
(She draws dagger and offers it to him.)
To one whose greatness humbles me from hate.
But, no ... (Pauses.) You do not mock me?
[Pg 272]
Its edge one vein of you—than priceless nard.
(He searches her eyes.)
Of dew, were you a traveller upon
The illimitable desert's thirst? Or than—
(He draws his own dagger, pricks his wrist, and hands it her.)
Under a sham of tribute poison?
I a mere shepherd innocent of wile!
A singer music-maudled and no more?...
The daughter of King Saul has yet to learn.
(She goes. He turns to Michal.)
The vaunting of this victory is done.
We are alone at last.
For Israel I've wrought to-day—and for
You, ever round about me as a mist
Of armèd mighty angels triumphing.
A shrivelled hallowing ...
Ashes of ecstasy that burned in vain.
And had I cried my praise the ground had broke
To Eden under me with blossoming.
Where was so wonderful a deed as this,
So fair a springing of salvation up?
Glory above the heavens could I seize,
Wreathing of dawn and loveliness unfading,
To crown you with and crown!
A sling, a shepherd's sling, you sped the brook,
Drew from its bed a stone, and up the hill
Where the great Philistine contemning cried,
Mounted and flung it deep upon his brain!
Tell, tell thy joy with kisses on my lips!
Thy mouth! thy arms! thy breast!
(Clasps her.)
Of dread and distance and the deep of doubt!
[Pg 274] Now must I fold you, falter all my love
And triumph on your senses till they burn
Beautiful to eternity with bliss.
This irremediable victory
Over Goliath severs us the more.
(The tumult, again, afar.)
Almost to-day and in my father's room
They would that you were king.
Dim shall I be, and ere the harvest bend
Less than a gleam in their forgotten peril!
Jehovah fast is beckoning the realm
Into thy hands.
The gliding on of firm divinity.
And yet whatever may be shall be done.
It may be told my father; that I may
Say to him all the secret!
The tread and tremble of seraphic song
Along the infinite.
With Samuel netted fears about my father,
Till I am paltrily unto you pledged.
Out of my heart, as 'twere enchantment dead,
And free you; but no more.
(He moves from her.)
A gentleness clad once your every grace.
(Judith glides in.)
Brave, it was brave, my love! beauteous! brave!
A bastion of strength, fell to the earth!
(She clasps and kisses him.)
(Free.) Take it away, the heat and myrrh of it.
(Wantonly.) Oh! Ah! I understand! the princess! Oh!
(Goes laughing and shaking her timbrel wickedly.)
It is chicanery of chance or craft.
You who are noble, though in doubt adrift,
Be noble now!
(A hand is seen at the door. Ahinoam enters.)
(Michal goes.)
It is but life.
Our hearts, so pitifully prone for it,
To ecstasy—then snaps.
Where words are futile for an utterance.
But of the king—the king——?
And hither comes again, and must be calmed.
The harp take you, and winds of beauty bring,
And consolation, as of valley eves
When there is ebb of sorrow and of toil.
Oh, could you heal him and for ever heal!
(Breaks off with great desire. Takes the harp and seats himself.)
(A strain of wild sadness brings Saul, and many, within. He pauses, his hand to his brow, enspelled of the playing; then slowly goes up the daïs.)
O heart of woe,
Heart of unrest and broken as a reed! (Plays.)
O heart whose flow
Is anguish and all bitterness of need! (Plays.)
O heart as a roe,
Heart as a hind upon the mountain fleeing
The arrow-wounds of being,
Be still, O heart, and rest and do not bleed!
(Plays longer with bowed head.)
Days that are driven swift and wild from the womb! (Plays.)
O days so rife—
Days that are torn of trouble, trod of doom!
(Plays. Michal enters.)
Days of desire on deserts spread unending,
The burning blue o'erbending,
O days, our peace, our victory is the tomb!
(He plays to a close that dies in anguished silence.)
Stilling to sorrow!... Oh, my friend, my son!
And safety covering!
Loveliest have you been among my days,
And singing weary madness from my brain.
(David starts toward him.)
Is jeopardy and fate about you! drive
Him from you utterly and now away!
(Murmurs of astonishment.)
Would rend silence for ever from you—pale
Your flesh with haunting of it evermore!
All, all your being would become a hiss,
A memory of syllables that sear,
A living iteration of remorse.
[Pg 280] I—I myself will save your lips the words
Of this betrayal leaping from your heart.
(Nobly before Saul.)
Anointed.
(Consternation.)
I, though I sought it not and suffer, though—
(Saul seizes a javelin.)
Never against you to lift up——
Now he will cozen!
(Goliath's head is upset.)
(Lifts javelin.)
(Reels.)
[Pg 281]
(Rushes up throne.)
Strike me to darkness and the waiting worm!
But after be your every breathing blood!
Remorse and riving bitterness and fear!
Be guilt and all the hideous choke of horror!
(Saul trembling cowers, the javelin falling from him. David breaks through Doeg and Ishui and escapes by the door. Michal sinks to her knees, her face buried in her hands.)
Curtain.[Pg 282]
ACT III
Scene: A savage mountain-cliff in the wilderness of Engeddi. On either side grey crags rise rugged, sinking away precipitously across the back. Cut into each is a cave. The height is reached by clefts from all sides. Between the crags to the East is the far blue of the Dead Sea; and still beyond, bathed in the waning afternoon, stretch the purple shores of Moab. During the act the scene grows crimson with sunset and a thundercloud arises over the sea. Lying on a pallet of skins near the cliff's verge, David tosses feverishly. Three of his followers and a lad, who serves him, are gathered toward the front, ragged, hungry, and hunted, in altercation over a barley cake.
Water!
They've drunk it all from him! My lord, none's left.
[Pg 283] I'll run and in the valley brim it soon.
(He goes. David sinks back.)
Give me the bread.
It is the last. Already you have eat.
And we are here within a wilderness.
Why should we but to follow a mere shepherd
Famish—over a hundred desert hills?
The prophecy portending him the throne—
Folly, not fate! though it is Samuel's.
I'll trust in it no more.
Has driven us from waste to waste—pressed us
Even unto the Philistines for shelter,
And now unto this crag. And is not David's
Thought but of Michal, not of smiting him
And, with a host, of leaping to the kingdom?
(David stirs to rise.)
[Pg 284]
Implacable they stare unto each other,
This rock and stony sky.... We must have news.
(Rises and comes down to them. They are silent.)
Of sighing—and remembered verdancy;
Nor any dew comes here or odour up.
Who will go now and bring us word of Saul?
And others gone?
And life's but once.... So we will follow you
No longer hungered and rewarded never,
But perilously ever.
(He looses a bracelet from his arm.)
(Gives it to Third Follower, who goes.)
Still of the sunny haven of his heart.
Upon my hand he pressed it—the day we leapt
Deeper than friends into each other's love.
(Gives it to First, who goes.)
[Pg 285]
'Tis riches—such as Sidon marts and Tyre
Would covet.
A woman—dear to me. Her face at night ...
Weeping among my dreams....
The prophesy
Is unfulfilled and vain!
(Motions.) So, without any blame, go—to content.
(The Second, faltering, goes.)
Of barren sea and bitterness as vast.
Thou hast bereft me, Saul!... and Michal, thou!
(He moves up cliff, gazes off, then kneels as to pray.)
Unwaking away into the night ... where is
No tears, but only tides of sleep....
No, crieth
Not for oblivion and night, but for
Rage and revenge! Saul! Saul!... My spirit, peace.
I must revenge's call within me quell
[Pg 286] Though righteously it quivers and aflame.
As pants the hart for the water-brook, so I!
(He bows his head.... Michal enters in rags with the lad. She sees David rise and wander into cave, right.)
So long in want and sickness he hath hid?
Under the livid day and lonelier night?
But he has heard no word from me?—not how
My father, Saul, frantic of my repentance,
Had unto Phalti, a new lord, betrothed me?
How then I fled to win unto these wilds?
I told of Moab, my own land.... But, oh!
(David plays within.)
I'll speak to him ... and yet must be unknown!
A leper? as a leper could I...?
Must he not know you?
But go a little.
(He sets down the water-skin and goes.)
(Conceals her face in her hair.)
Poor leper in these wilds, who art thou?
Outcast and faint, forlorn!
To one more bitter outcast than yourself—
One who has less than this lone void to give,
This sterile solitude and sun, this scene
Of leaden desolation that makes mad;
Who has no ease but cave or shading rock,
Or the still moon, or stars that glide the night.
One over whom——
Flow dead into eternity.
This chain of Ophir for thy every need.
Once it was dear, but should be so no more.
(Flinging it to her). Have it, and with it vanish memory
Out of my breast——
Link upon link her loveliness that bound.
[Pg 288]
I once beheld wind undulantly bright
O'er Michal the king's daughter.
A spy of Saul and hypocrite have crept
Hither to learn...?
Wandering came you here?
Almost and I had touched thy peril, held
Thy hideous contagion.
Art thou to know and speak of her, of Michal?
Michal, you have beheld her?
In face was fairer and in heart than now
They say she is.
The treading of the wine-presses with song.
David she loved, but anger-torn betrayed,
Unworthy of him.
Nor of her cruelty, unless to pray
He she has ruined may forget her.
If deep she should repent?—if deep she should?
(A cry interrupts. They start.)
(To Michal). He who is near may prove to thee less kind.
(She goes. He leaps up the cliff.)
But staggering and wounded? breathless? torn?
The priest with bloody ephod, too, and wild?
(Watching, then springing to meet them as they reel in.)
Abiathar, up! answer!
(He brings the water-skin. They drain it fiercely.)
Has breath in.
Of terror and remorse sting in his soul!
Seek if he lives!
Founts yet in Judah!
Dead—and of tidings more calamitous.
(A pause.)
The priests who gathered sacredly at Nob,
Plotted assisting you, hath had them——
(He stands motionless.)
Even thy kindred, out of Israel
[Pg 291] Are driven into Moab; and this king,
Delirious still for blood as a desert pard,
With Merab, whelp of him, and many armed,
Is near us now—a-quiver at Engeddi
For your destruction:
(David struggles for control.)
Lest unendurable this lot, I may——
Mounting o'er every oath into revenge.
Nothing of her.
As did her love.
A woman who betrays?
And judge her when earth has no mystery.
Unworthy any tremor of your veins.
And nesting doves are horrible to heaven.
I will not so believe. Your reason?
[Pg 292]
Has given her—and she will wed him, aye—
To Phalti, a new lord.
The parable of verdant spring is hushed
Ever of bloom, to prove it. Never till
Hermon is swung into the sea! until
The last void of the everlasting sky—
(Looking up, falters, breaks off, and is strangely moved.)
(Then, suddenly seeing.)
And beating against death unbuoyantly.
(The bird drops at their feet.)
(Bends to it.)
Quick, no delay. Efface all trace of us.
(Takes water-skin.)
[Pg 293]
On us is death. Open the secret chamber
Within the cave, for from the bow of Saul
Is yonder bleeding—from no other.
But how; was any here?
A leper wandering.
(Abishai hastes to cave, right, David and Abiathar listen. Noise of approach is heard.)
Inexorable!
Out of his power the sceptre!
Mercy and memory almost are dead,
And craving birth in me is fateful ire.
(They follow into the cave: but hardly have done so when, at a shout, pour in Saul and his men, bloodthirstily, from all sides, Doeg and Abner leading.)
Him to my sword and Michal with him.
(Pacing.)
[Pg 294] Shall couch upon eternity and dust.
(Weakly.) I am the king and Israel is mine....
I'll sleep upon their grave, I'll sleep upon it,
And hear the worm...!
(To a soldier re-entering from one cave.)
To aid him, so....
(To a soldier from the other cave.)
He is not there....
Because you deem that he shall be the king,
And treasure up reward and amnesty.
(Rushes wildly to caves in turn, then out among them.)
Away from me, he's fled and none of you
Is servant and will find and for me seize him!
From me—I'll sleep—I'll rest—and then—
(As they cringe, going.)
(Abner and Doeg remain. Saul enters cave, left.)
[Pg 295]
It came as never before—as drunkenness.
(Goes.)
So we may seek us water; (then suddenly) no, abide!
(Is held by Michal entering.)
No stones to stone you? Hence! And had I not
A brother such as thou——
(She quickly goes, then they. A space; then she returns, trembling and fearful.)
I his discomfiture and ruin!—David!
(Searches.)
(Sees Saul.)
I cannot—am not—whither shall I, whither...?
(Flees, as a scuffling is heard and David's voice.)
(Appears, withheld by Abiathar.)
Return into the cave, and ere too late!
(Merab, veiled, enters behind them.)
Have swung the burden from me as her ... Ha!
(Sees Merab; slowly recoils.)
(Motions the priest aside.)
Or longer stay. The path she came is open.
Yearning—I say it—yearning—and I will.
More all-devouring than a Moloch is
This love within me——
As sun and Sheol.
For want of you as famine-wind, a wave
In the mid-tempest, with no rest, no shore.
Of one who has but recently another,
Adriel, wedded.
[Pg 297]
No, but this will I do. The Philistines,
For long at rioting within their walls,
Gather again and break toward Gilboa....
Return from hunting you and arm for battle.
But—many would that you were king.
For love of you arouse rebellion up,
Murmur about the host your heaven-call,
And lift you to the kingdom.
Your words again.
Full from her lips—and to betray her father.
(Abiathar discovers Saul.)
As yonder sea of death and bitter salt!
As foam-girt Joppa of idolatry,
[Pg 298] As Memphian fane of all abhorrencies!
(A pause.)
A livid sepulchre of shame span o'er,
And night shrink to remember day had been!
(She laughs shrilly.)
Knows to the Philistines you fled—and loathes you!
Is given to the embraces of another?
(David shrinks.)
(She laughs more bitterly.)
(She goes. David lifts his hand to his brow in pain. Then Abiathar abruptly descends from Saul's cave to him.)
Then shall there be an ending—of these wounds
That wring me—of this wail
Under the deeps of me against his wrongs.
Saul, Saul!... Michal!... Oh, never-ceasing ill!
(Flings down the sword in anguish.)
Hunted you to this desert's verge?
Are Samuel—the priests, not slain? my father?
The kingdom is not in decay, and falls?
You are not prophesy's anointed one?
Seize up the sword and strike—or I myself!
(Puts them aside, takes sword, and goes to Saul's cave.)
Michal enters unseen.
(David re-enters—haggard and worn—from the cave, a piece of Saul's cloak and the sword still in his hand.... The pause is tense with emotion.)
Ah, you have slain—have slain him! Wretch! thou wretch!
[Pg 300] And sleeping as he was!
(Rage takes him.)
And merciless! And now will kill me, too?
(Grows frenzied.)
Upon the blot of it and death and sear!
The silence and relentless burning swoon!
You are the leper, who have broken troth
And shut the cry of justice from your breast!
Who've stifled me with desolation's woe,
Who've followed still and still have me betrayed!
(Flinging the piece of Saul's cloak at her feet.)
A king who quits the kingdom, though a cloud
Of Philistines is foaming toward Gilboa;
Jeoparded leaves it, undefended, for
Pursuit of me and pitiless harrying!
A king who murders priests ...
With penitence that He has shaped the world!
Have slain? have slain him! I have slain him! Ah!
Ah, that I had thy falseness and could slay him!
[Pg 301]
That quivering and tenderness of lure.
Those eyes that hold infinity of fate,
That breathing cassia-sweet, but sorcery!
And seething in the brain as frantic wine!
I'll be no more enspelled of thee—Never!
I will not hear thee and be wound by words
Into thy wile as wide as Ashtoreth's,
Back into hope, eternity of pain!
(He goes in agony—the priest and Abishai after. Michal stands gazing tearless before her as Saul, awakened, comes slowly from the mouth of the cave down toward her.)
Curtain.[Pg 302]
ACT IV
Scene: The house of Miriam, the "Witch of Endor," by Mount Gilboa—where Saul is encamped against the Philistines. It is of one story, built rectangularly about an inner court, which is dimly lighted. Under the gallery which ranges around the court are doors leading to the sleeping and other apartments; before one of these a lattice. On the left is the gate opening to the street. At the back to one side, the teraphim, or image of divination; on the other side a stairway mounts to the roof. Above is the night and vague lightning amid a moan of wind. During the act comes dawn. Forward on a divan sits Miriam alone, in blind restlessness.
Yet would I have her near me in this night,
And hear again the boding of her tale.
Unto the blind the vision and the awe
Of the invisible sway ever in,
The shadow of nativities that lead
Upon fatality.
[Pg 303] Girl! Adah! girl!
(The wind passes. Adah enters from a chamber, rubbing her eyes.)
Fathoming I may feel within you. Now,
Again—you've hither fled your mistress Merab,
In fear of her?
By Saul was apprehended? Merab now
Plotteth against her—she and Doeg?
Despairing of to-morrow's battle, comes
Hither to-night to bid me lift the spirit
Of Samuel out of the dead and learn
The issue?
Many within the army urge for David,
Would cry him king, if Saul were slain?
(A knock at the gate. They start up fearful.)
Under the night and unextinguished storm?
Come you a friend?
[Pg 304]
(Throws open the gate. David enters and Abiathar cloaked.)
If it be David, speak.
Let me behold thee (her hands go over him) with my fingers' sight,
And gather in them touch of thee again!
Thy voice is as dream-dulcimers that stir
Quivering myrrh of memory and joy.
But, aie! why are you here? You have been there?
Do you not know——
O'er-tramble me than a multitude of foes.
That it is told him I who shun his ire—
Though death were easier, if dutiful—
Am come up with the Philistines to win
The kingdom. That he would slay me though I fought
For Israel!—But, Michal!—
She was not in the camp.
And you who should be never.
Swiftly away, for Saul is——
(A heavy knock at the gate.)
You would not heed—'tis Saul!
That I shall call up Samuel.
The awful dead?
The lattice yonder!
(David and Abiathar withdraw. The knocking hastier.)
You tarry!
(She lets him in, with Ishui and Adriel.)
Who of the fate-revealing dead divine.
Out of the Pit you call them!
With snaring! knowing well that Saul the king
Is woe and bitterness to all who move
With incantation.
Him I would question.
Before thy teraphim. No harm, I swear,
Shall come of it. Bid Samuel appear.
The battle! its event!
Saul! thou art Saul! the Terror!
Ready is it, the battle—but I am
Forsaken of all prophesy and dream,
Of voices and of priest and oracle,
To augur it.
(She turns to the teraphim, amid wind and pallid lightning prostrating herself.)
The troubling and the terrifying grave,
Th' immeasurable moan and melancholy
Of ways that win to Sheol—Rise! Arise!
(She waits ... Only the wind gust. Then springing up, with wide arms, and wild blind eyes.)
The name of Baal, Amon, Ashtoreth,
Dagon or all the deities that dream
In trembling temples of Idolatry,
But of Jehovah! of Jehovah! rise!
(An elemental cry is heard. Then wavering forms rise, vast, out of the earth, in continuous stream. Miriam, with a curdling shriek, sinks moaning to her knees.)
Utter thy sight.
(The Spirit of Samuel begins to take shape through the phantoms.)
Forms as of gods in swaying ghostliness,
Dim apparitions of a dismal might,
And now is one within a mantle clad,
Who looketh——
[Pg 308] Omniscience in his mien, and there is chill
And cling about him of eternity!
His eyes impale me!
(He falls heavily to the ground.)
Thou brought me from the quietness and rest?
For underneath this night thou hast conspired
Death to thy daughter Michal—if at dawn
The battle shall be lost—lest she may fall
Into the hands of David——
The battle shall be lost—it shall be lost.
(The Spirit of Samuel disappears. A wail of wind.)
It shall begin! To Jonathan and say it.
(Ishui goes.)
I am the king, and Israel, my own.
(Frenzied he goes. A silence.)
Prophet of prophets, Samuel, return!
[Pg 309] Out of the Shadow and the Sleep, return,
Compassionate, and tell me where she is
That I may save. Again appear and say
That Israel to-morrow may not fall—
Not fall on ruin!
Out unto Saul! Betray me, cry you out!
And ask now no forgiveness—not until
Michal is won from peril!
More of her? still?
Power of this.... And to some spot of Endor
Here he has brought her.
David, himself cannot be far away.
In any way, that we may from him win
[Pg 310] Where she is prisoned.
(Adriel goes.)
Quicksands of destiny beneath her stir.
Is heaven a mocking shield that ever keeps
God from our prayers?
(A faint uproar begins afar; and dawn.)
Speed out upon the mountain-side and cull
All that befalls.
(Adah opens the gate. The priest goes.)
Is coming hither! Do not let her—she—
I fear—I fear her!
(The gate is thrown open fiercely.)
(Sees David.)
Unkind, most cruel sister!
[Pg 311] Within your bosom I beheld. And now
Michal your sister is the victim.
Know not your meaning.
If it adversely veers, the king has planned
Michal is not to live lest she may hap
Unto my arms.
(The tumult again.)
And save Thy altars unto Israel!
(He bows his head. A stir comes at the gate.)
(David throws a cloak to his face, as Adah obeys. Adriel enters, and Doeg, who pauses in quick alarm, as David goes between him and the gate.)
Merab, 'tis you? Why do you gaze, rigid?
And this is the blind witch, Miriam?
(He throws off the cloak.)
[Pg 312]
Where is she?
I but obey him.
Then speak, or unto frenzy I am driven.
(Breaks off with low laugh.)
Soft sympathy—and passion? (Laughs.) She is dead.
If it is so, the lightning, that is wrath
Within the veins of God, should sink its fang
Into thy bosom and sear out thy heart.
If it is so, this momentary calm,
This silence pouring overfull the world,
Would rush and in thee cry until thy bones
Broken of guilt are crumbled in thy groans.
Dead, she is dead?
(Strangely, as in a trance.)
(All listen amazed.)
Is in a cave—is bound—and is alone.
I will go to her—quickly bring her.
[Pg 313]
(Lunges at her.)
(Miriam finds her way out.)
And as a pestilence of midnight marsh
Have oozed corruption into all around you.
The kingdom thro' you is in brokenness,
Within its arteries you flow, poison,
Incentive of irruption and unrest,
Of treachery and disaffection's sore,
Till even the stars that light it seem as tares
Sown hostile o'er the nightly vale of heaven.
(Draws firmly. Coldly, skilfully approaches for attack.)
(He rushes in; they engage; Doeg is wounded.)
(Quickly forces him under. The gate then opens and Abiathar hurries in.)
(Sees Doeg and stops, pale.)
Of priestly sanctity and of my father?
(Doeg is sullenly bound and led aside. Then a panic is heard afar, and dim laments. David, who has sunk to a seat, springs anxiously up.)
Off with his armour for me, I will go
Forth and may backward, backward bend defeat.
Duty to Saul is over.
A fruitless intrepidity it were.
And Michal! (The gate opens.) Michal who lives! who
lives! who lives!
(David has turned and sees her enter with Miriam.)
Her wrists and ankles.
[Pg 315]
(They go out the gate.)
(He is silent.)
Though once I would not hear. Has all of life
No glow for me?
Of duty amid love we have no skill
To loosen, but with passion.
Remember it is so.
All unbelievable it seemed that you
Could innocently wait on time to tide
You to the kingdom. Then forgive, I plead.
To save you strove I——!
From Saul, my father, penitent I fled,
Seeking you in Engeddi's wild.
(A great joy dawning in him.)
Wide empery outspans our littleness.
A tithing of thy loveliness were beauty
Enough for earth. Yet it is mine, is mine?
(She starts toward his arms. But cries and confusion of cries beat back their joy. Then the gate is flung open and Adriel enters, shaken. He looks from one to the other.)
What have you?
And Jonathan——
The fray was fast—Israel fled—the foe
Fierce after Saul, whom Jonathan defended.
If I believe it will not miracle
Alone bring joy again unto my pain?
(The wailing again, and deeper groans.)
[Pg 317] Thy glory and it changes to a shroud!
Thy splendour is as vintage overspilt,
For Saul upon the mountains low is lying,
And Jonathan beside him, beautiful
Beyond the mar of battle and of death.
Yea, kingly Jonathan! And I would give
The beating of my life into his veins.
Willing for it would I be drouth and die!...
(As the wails re-arise.)
Dew be upon you, and as sackcloth let
Clouds cover you, and ashes be your soil,
Until I bring upon Philistia
And Gath and Askalon extinguishing,
And sorrow—and immensity of tears!
(Michal goes to him. He folds her in his arms.)
Though yet we cannot mind us to remember,
Love will as sandal-breath and trickling balm
O'erheal us in the unbegotten years,
Too headlong must not be our agony.
Hush now thy woundedness, my Michal, now.
See, o'er the East the lifted wings of Dawn.
(They climb the stair to the house-top. As they look away toward the battle's rout the clouds part, and over them breaks the full brightness of the sun....)
THE END.
The Gresham Press,
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED.
WOKING AND LONDON.
Transcriber's Notes:
Simple typographical and spelling errors were corrected. Considerable latitude was provided the dialogue and poetry.