Читать книгу The Mortal Gods, and Other Plays - Olive Tilford Dargan - Страница 4
ACT I
ОглавлениеScene: A vast room in the palace of Hudibrand. As the curtain rises the place is in darkness save for a circlet of gold apparently suspended in mid-air near the centre of the room. As the light increases, the outline of a man's figure becomes distinguishable, and the circlet is seen to be resting on his head. Gradually the rim of gold fades to invisibility, while the figure of the man and the contents of the room become clear to the eye. The man might be mistaken for an American citizen in customary evening dress. He is Hudibrand.
At the left are two entrances, upper and lower. Rear, left, large windows. The wall rear makes a right angle about centre, the apex of which is cut off by a window. Right of centre the room seems to extend endlessly rearward, and is arranged to suggest an upland grove in the delicate, venturing days of spring. The ground, rising a little toward right, is covered with winter moss and tufts of short silvered grass. The trees are young birch, slight maples in coral leaf, cornel in flower, and an occasional dark foil of cedar. A brooklet ripples down the slope and off rear. Birds chirp and flit, and now and then a breeze stirs the grove as if it were one tender body. The lights are arranged to give the effect of night or day as one wishes.
It is winter without, the climate of Assaria's capital city being similar to that of New York.
Double doors lower right, through which Count Dorkinski enters to Hudibrand.
Dor. Your majesty, Sir Borduc has arrived.
Hudi. Hot-shod. We'll let him cool.
Dor. Where shall he wait, My lord?
Hud. His usual corner. Keep him off My Delhi rug. [Exit Dorkinski] Poor Bordy's fuming ripe.
[Re-enter the Count]
Dor. His Excellency calls, your majesty.
Hud. Which Excellency? They are thick as hops.
Dor. The Governor of Peonia.
Hud. In time and tune. We'll see him here. [Exit Dorkinski] A pawn of mine who'd push Beyond his square, and I must humor him 'Neath meditative thumb.
[Enter Megario]
Hud. Welcome, Megario.
Meg. I've travelled far To press your hand.
Hud. We made appointment here, Knowing your visit to Assaria touched Nothing of state or office.
Meg. [Accepting his cue] Nothing, sir. [Looks about him] I thought I left the springtide in my rear, Three thousand miles or so, but here it greets me.
Hud. A gimcrack of my daughter's. She would freak With sun and time. My toyshop has no walls. I juggle too with seasons, climates, zones, But in the open where there's warrior room, And startled Fate may spring against my will, Giving an edge to mastery when I wrest The whip from Nature, turn it on herself, And set her elemental slaves to filch Her gold for me. That, friend, is play.
Meg. For gods And not as thief, but as divinity, You take from crouching Nature.
Hud. Men have said I pile up gold because its glitter soothes A fever in my eyes. The clacking fools! I am no Cheops making warts on earth. No mummy brain! God built my pyramids, Slaving through dark and chaos till there rose My iron-hearted hills, and mountains locked On ago-unyielded treasure waiting me. There slept my gems till longing became fire And broke the grip of stone,—there lay my gold, Re-purged each thousand years till baited Time Gave up the master's hour.
[Hernda has come from the grove and moves up to his side]
Her. [Adoringly] And you the master!
Hud. Daughter, you owe my lord Megario Some pretty thanks.
Her. I give them, sir.
Meg. No, no! I pray your Highness, no! My thanks to earth That bears the flower of you, and to the light That makes my eyes your beauty's treasurer. But thanks from you to me, as jewels hung Upon a beggar's neck, would set my rags Unkindly in the sun.
Her. Then I am not Your debtor?
Meg. Mine the debt, that mounts too fast For feeble payment from thin purse of words. Ah, every moment adds a suitor hope To th' bankrupts in my heart.
Her. I fear, my lord, Your coiner's name is Fancy, and I like Truth's mintage best. [To her father] What is this debt of mine, So languished that a word of thanks may be Its slender cover?
Meg. A word, if beauty speak it, May mantle a bare world.
Hud. His Excellency Is Governor of Peonia——
Her. In Goldusan!
Hud. And smoothed my road there——
Meg. Nay, your majesty, My aid was but a garnish on the might That moves with your own name.
Hud. Between us then, We saved my holdings through a bluster there. And what they brought me I've tossed here to make This smile on winter.
Meg. What? You gave her all?
Her. How, sir? One word of mine would robe a world. And my whole self not worth a little spot Twitched from Spring's garment?
Meg. Oh, I'd grind the stars To imperial dust that you might trample them,— But this—this was a fortune! [To Hudibrand] Sir, 'tis true You care not for the gold.
Hud. I care for it As men of hero times held dear the sword That made them lords of battle.
Her. You are lord Of Peace!
Meg. Write that upon the clouds, that eyes Of men and angels may contending claim The truth for earth and heaven!
Hud. Tush, sir, tush!
Meg. Can I forget how at your kingly touch My fair Peonia, paling in treason's grip, Thrilled from her deathward droop, renewed her heart Through safe, ease-lidded nights, and woke once more The rose of fortune?
Hud. There's no rumble now Of riot?
Meg. Not a sound comes to our ears But from the toiling strokes that steadily Uproll Peonia's wealth.
Hud. Yet those who led The last revolt are free.
Meg. Not all, your Highness. A few crossed to Assaria, but expedition Warms on their trail. Rejan LeVal is tracked To your own capital.
Hud. Nay, mend that, sir. We're safe here from such ruck.
Meg. The startled eel Will make for muddy waters,—and 'tis sure LeVal found murky welcome here.
Hud. My city! What mutinous bolt turns here for him?
Meg. His friends Are friends of power. How else could he elude The thousand eyes in search?
Hud. [Musing] Treason at court?...
Meg. We'll mouse LeVal to 's cranny, do not doubt. Then we shall ask Assaria's great seal For his delivery to Goldusan.
Hud. That is assured you.
Meg. But your minister, Sir Borduc, warns——
Hud. Ha! Warns?
Meg. He urges that The extraditing power is at pause, Blocked by the people's will.
Hud. I've given my word,— A word that mobbish din ne'er added to, Nor yet stripped of one letter that I chose Should spell authority. You ask for more?
Meg. Pardon, your majesty! It is enough, Beyond all stretch of need.
Hud. I call to mind That Borduc waits,—and primed for tongue-work too. The princess will content your Excellency?
Meg. [With obeisance to Hernda] 'Tis Heaven's honor! I have left the earth!
Hud. You waste your art. She's in the milk-maid humor. Would marry Hob. [Exit, lower right]
Meg. The Señor Hob? He says You'll marry him? [Hernda laughs] You care not if I die!
Her. You'll live, my lord.
Meg. You'll marry Hob. I die!
Her. He is not Hob. That is my father's mock Because he's poor.
Meg. [In hope] Ah, poor?
Her. A beggarly Ten millions,—not a penny more.
Meg. Ten millions!
Her. But that's my joy. I would not wed for gold.
Meg. O, pity me! I love you, señorita!
Her. No, no! I must not hear that.
Meg. Then I'll pray Silence to be my friend and speak my dumb Unuttered heart.
Her. You must not love me, sir. But you may love—my father. When you praised him, You too seemed fair to me.
Meg. I'll sing him till The stars lie at our feet, if you will listen!
Her. He gave your country peace?
Meg. His royal name Is dear as Cordiaz' in the grateful heart Of Goldusan. That proud land lay unkept. Her ores intombed, her vales without a plough, Her rivers wasting down to shipless seas, Her people starving, while her nobles strove For shreds of power,—the clouted thing we called A government. Then on our factions fell, Strong as a god's, the hand of Hudibrand; And now, compact, we stand by Cordiaz, While every mountain groans with golden birth. And every river turns its thousand wheels, And every valley buried is in bloom.
Her. My dearest father! But I knew 'twas so! And they who starved are fed and happy now? They reap the bloom and share the golden flood?
Meg. All will be well when once we've scourged the land Of rebels that drip poison from their tongues, Stirring the meek and unambitious poor,— Who sought no life but saintly, noble toil,— With strangest rage, till maddened they would bite The fostering hand of God.
Her. We've prisons where We put such troublers. Has your land no jails?
Meg.'Tis full of them! I mean—ah, we have jails, But foes like these are wary, slip all watch,— Flee and dart back, our weariness their charter To tread with havoc's hoof. If I could find Rejan LeVal, then might I rest from guard, But not while he—unlassoed warrigal!— May canter from his thicket and paw up Peonia's fields!
Her. I'll lend an adjutant. Ask Chartrien, who knows each foggy nook And smirchèd corner of the capital,— Having once made his pastime serve a quest For such drab knowledge,—ask him help you find This traitor.
Meg. Chartrien! Nay, the fox is safe When th' hound too wears a brush.
Her. You mean the prince? Speak, sir! Who hints me calumny, Shall make the drum his chorus. I'll hear all.
Meg. A rumor drifts through Goldusan....
Her. Is that An oddity? Here rumors are too thick For ears to gather them.
Meg. But this—O, princess.... Fairest of earth, forgive me that I speak!
Her. You do not speak. And that I'll not forgive.
Meg. Ah, then,—but first,—is Chartrien near the king?
Her. No nearer than his heart.
Meg. I do offend.
Her. Offence now lies in silence. Speak, my lord.
Meg. When I left Goldusan, 'twas said—and with No muffled hesitance—Prince Chartrien aids The rebels there, and lays a train to rend The State apart, that Cordiaz may drop Into the gap,—then he with plausive cleat Will make the fissure stanch, and seat himself In unoppugnèd power.
Her. Why he is Hob! [Silence. They both rise] A mad and sorry tale, you see.
Meg. I see. He's in the capital?
Her. Beneath this roof. The palace is his home. My father holds His meagre millions guarded, nursing them To a prince's portion.
Meg. We shall meet?
Her. To-night. He's with a friend—a Spanish gentleman,— But not from Goldusan.
Meg. I made no guess.
Her. Deny that with your eyes. Your tongue's exempt.
Meg. And may I meet the Spanish gentleman?
Her. That's as he chooses. I may not command him.
[Re-enter Count Dorkinski]
Dor. His Highness, sir, is pleased to bid you join him.
Meg. His pleasure is his marshal. [To Hernda, softly] I've your leave To love your father. That I go from you To him, is Heaven's proof I do.
[Exit Megario and the Count]
Her.The proof I seek, and would not find, is locked in Hell, Not Heaven. Megario lied. Oh, Chartrien!
[Retreats slowly into grove and pauses out of sight, rear. Enter, upper left, Chartrien and LeVal]
LeV. No,——
Cha. Prudence, dear LeVal!
LeV. I shall go mad Shut in this gilded den,—this stifling hold Of banditry.
Cha. Peace, friend!
LeV. I'd rather crouch With brats of grime upon an unswept hearth And claw my bread from cinders, than draw breath In this gold-raftered house of blood!
Cha. Come, come! Your wits fly naked, stripped of every caution, And beat suspicion up that else might keep Untroubled bed. Whist! We must move rose-shod Through these next hours, not clack in passion's clogs.
LeV. I'll out of this! There's surge in me no fear Can put in bonds.
Cha. Nay, here and here alone Your life is safe. The hounds of Goldusan Sniff through the cellars. They'll not scent you in The royal shadow. That's more brilliancy Than ever lit a rush in houndom. This My home, I share with you, for mine it is Till I've secured my gold from Hudibrand.
LeV. Ay, but Megario! While he's here these walls Pen me in fire.
Cha. His visit is too brief To be a danger.
LeV. Danger! To me, or him? If we should meet, his fate as mine would be In that encounter. These are hands would see to 't!
Cha. LeVal, forget——
LeV. Forget Céleste? My wife? Forget she died of blows while he stood by And smiled, because she was my wife! Oh, God! Breathe air with him while this arm hangs A limp discretion!
Cha. Peace! This mood unpent Will wreck us. Keep your room if it must swell. The princess gazes yonder, and your face Is badged exposal. Go. I'll meet her question. 'Twill not fash honor if a lie or two Must be our guard.
[Exit LeVal upper left. Hernda emerges from grove. Chartrien waits for her as she comes circuitously, lightly hovering and hesitating]
Her. [At his side] What lover's this?—dreams still When love is by. Were he an olden knight He'd ride to tourney and forget his spurs!
Cha. He would forget the world and fame and God To see your eyes like this!
Her. You tremble, Chartrien. Love so much?—yet stood here just—a stump—
Cha. That felt you coming, coming like a bird, And watched and waited, envying every bough Where you paused doubting, till you fluttering lit, Down in the old stump's heart—
Her. There, I've forgot! This is my lover ere that lure crept up From Goldusan. Since you came back, I've felt The shadow of a difference, and I've heard The maids of Goldusan can draw men's souls Out of their bodies for a dance in hell.
Cha. My love!
Her. O, Chartrien, are you mine? I feel A question in your worship. When your eyes Are warmest, love lies on them like The shallow moon-gleam on a deep, dark sea That is not kin with it. A sea that once Was mine, and I could go, with circling arms, Love-lanterned to its depth. But now the dark Is round me fathomless——
Cha. My own!
Her. I try to rise, To find my wings—and feel the air again Without your drowning touch upon me——
Cha. Hernda! Have I so nearly lost you? Come, beloved, Sit here, and let me vow me yours again Till in each word you feel my beating heart.
Her. My stars shall hear these vows.
[Changes the light to pale, evening glow. Rear, right, are glimpses of sky with frail, moving clouds, faint stars and a new moon]
And see, my moon.
Intent and virginal.
[She sits, and Chartrien lies on the ground, his breast covering her feet]
Now, now my heart
Holds not another thing but love and you!
Cha. No thought of those dread wings?
Her. None, none! And you? [Bends over him] All mine. I hold you now, fast in my world. Sometimes you enter, come within my door. And then I can not shut it for a wind That clings about you from a farther sky.
Cha. [Rises and takes her face between his hands] There's but one sky!
Her. A shuddering breath, As from a planet strange, where you have walked And I shall never go.
Cha. O, shut me in, Rose of a heart! I'll not go out though Life Beat at the door, and call her giant storms To knock upon 't.
Her. Is this not life? And this The only world?
Cha. The only world. My habitat One perfect hour.
Her. One hour? Forever, love.
Cha. O, vow it for me, sweet,—again, again! Till I believe once more in Arcadies Born of a silken purse. In sunsets caught In tinted tapestries, with jacinth heart Gold-bleeding through the woven breath of dream. In soft moon-hours that drop from painted skies, In fairy woodlands aye unwintering, In love's elf-ring no boding star may cross, And you, my Hernda, sceptred in joy's name, Tossing the apple planets in your hands— These little, sovereign hands—as God might do, Had he, poor God, your power.
Her. Love, you hurt.
Cha. Ah, tears in Arcady?
Her. Oh, what is this Has come between us?
Cha. What? The universe. I can not reach you even when my lips Are on your heart.
Her. May I not come to you?
Cha. From this moon-world? No hope of that.
Her. See then, The day! [Changes the light to sunrise] Now may I come?
Cha. Forever playing! The way lies here.
[Steps to window and opens it. A snowy blast rushes in]
Her. Stop, Chartrien! Shut it! Oh, You've killed my Spring!
Cha. You will not come?
Her. You're mad.
[Struggles with the window until she closes it, Chartrien watching her]
Cha. You do not like that road. But it is mine. And children walk it. I have met them there.
Her. Oh, I am frozen! See!
Cha. [With sudden contrition, pressing her to his breast] No, you are fire. A fire that I will clasp, though it should burn My holiest temple and betray my soul To ashes!
Her. O, my love, what secret curbs Your nature to this chafe? It rubs even through Your ardor.—stabs me on your breast. May I not know it? Is not confidence Dear blood and life of love? Without it, ours Must pale, ghost-cold, a chill between locked arms.
Cha. Is trust not love's prerogative More royal sweet than any burdened share Of secrecy?
Her. Not to the strong!
Cha. [Smiling] You strong? By what brave test dost know it?
Her. And by what Dost know me weak?
Cha. The proof awaits. But now,— Emilio needs me,—
Her. Go!
Cha. Sweet, friendship too Has bonds. Not all are love's.
Her. He's ill,—your friend?
Cha. As plague-bit life,—no worse.
Her. You'll wait upon My father? Bid him but good-night?
Cha. No, Hernda.
Her. You shun him, Chartrien. I have watched you keep A curious distance,—ay, as though your heart Removed itself while your unwarmèd eyes Made invoice of its treasure. Once you rushed Unto his counsel as security Hived in his word, and you, denied, were lost. Are those hours gone? If you have grown too large For his shrunk wisdom, bind you to his need. Age unsuspected crowns him, and you take Your young arm out of his.
Cha. He wants no staff.
Her. You'll go no more to Goldusan?
Cha. I must.
Her. And soon?
Cha. When Hudibrand is pleased to free My fortune from his ward.
Her. You want it all?
Cha. Yes, all.
Her. For Goldusan?
Cha. My greatest need Is there.
Her. What is that need?
Cha. You question me?
Her. May love not ask?
Cha. If love could understand.
Her. Have I grown dull? I do not know you, Chartrien. You're so unfeatured by that Spanish cloud, You're lowering friend. He is the universe Between our hearts. Ill? No. I saw him here,— A tropic threat. 'Twas rage broke his suave guard, Not illness.
Cha. Hernda!
Her. The Lord Megario Has asked to compliment a brother guest. May he be seen? Does his unmannered storm Spare one amenity?
Cha. Megario knows?
Her. Knows what?
Cha. Oh!—nothing.
Her. So much more than naught Your cheek is pale with it.
Cha. No matter, Hernda.
Her. An ashen matter truly, yet not light As nothing. But your answer. May our guests Exchange the roof-tree greeting?
Cha. No.
Her. Why not? That "no" trails consequence. It can not be Your period.
Cha. They are enemies.
Her. I knew!
Cha. Megario dealt my friend a bitter wrong,— The foulest wrong that man may put on man.
Her. He's loyal to my father. I know that Of him,—and of Emilio—nothing.
Cha. Sweet, I beg one day!
Her. One day? What's hatching here That's one day short its time?
[Enter, lower right, Hudibrand, Megario, and Borduc]
Cha. [Drawing Hernda aside] To-morrow, love!
Her. To-night!
Hud. You've won your suit, Megario. If by our presence in your Goldusan We can advance that sister country's peace. The journey's naught. We'll count it done.
Meg. My lord, All revolution will dispel as air Before your eye. Our Cordiaz is great, But his familiar subjects are too near To take his height, while you they know to be Of giant measure; and when once they see Your majesties are brothered, Cordiaz Will grow your twin in stature.
Hud. You've our word.
Meg. I treasure it,—and lest repeated thanks Stale their sincerity. I beg to say Good-night.
Hud. You have our leave. Good-night, my lord.
[Megario bows impressively to Hudibrand, slightly to Borduc, and is passing out when Hernda, who has crossed right, intercepts him]
Her. You leave us early, Lord Megario.
Meg. I do not leave, your Highness. I am driven. I go to drudgery with my secretaries, Foregoing even the sleep that might have brought Your dreamèd face to me.
Her. Is 't still your wish To meet our Spanish guest?
Meg. He grants me that?
Her. He has refused a meeting.
Meg. Ah!... Refused.
Her. But there's a way, my lord. When you have passed The second door without, turn to the left. You'll find a vaulted passage,—at the end An entrance to my wood. Come in, and wait.
Meg. You grace me so?
Her. It is not grace that breaks The covenant of salt. But who keeps faith With traitors? He is one, by every sign. An evil thing blown to our royal hearth Through Chartrien's open love that lets all winds Pour in. And I'll have proof of it!
Meg. [Over her hand] You shall. [Exit, lower right]
Cha. [Crossing to Hernda] A long-spun courtesy, and with one merit,— It ended in good-night.
Her. [Gayly] Unruly yet? A truce until to-morrow!
Cha. You believe me?
Her. I would not doubt you for a world compact Of virtues only, but it's no unreason To fear you are deceived.
Cha. Dear Hernda——
Her. Come! I love you, Chartrien. Let us have an hour As light as joy, as sweet as peace, and call Your friend to share it. He shall smile for me. I vow it, by his most ungentle frown!
Cha. 'Twill take your deepest magic, for his heart Holds naught that smiles are made of.
Her. Bring him here. I'll make that heart my wizard bowl and mix Such sweet and merry potions in 't, his griefs Must doff their gray for motley. You shall see!
Cha. Art such a witch? [Exit, upper left]
Her. What's this I do? My soul Leans shameward, but I'll trounce it up. The man, If innocent, keeps so, untouched and clear. If he aims darkly, creeps a weaponed hate Upon my noble father, do I worse Than cancel so the unwrought half of 's crime, And make him less a villain?
Bor. May I speak Against this southward jaunt?
Hud. Loud as you please, My Bordy, but I go.
Bor. Your Highness makes Assaria bow too low.
Hud. The State shall have No name in this. I go as Cordiaz' friend, Not as Assaria's king. I've interests there That sort with quiet venture. Give it out This move in part concerns my health.
Bor. That much I welcome. You should rest, my lord.
Hud. Ha? Rest? The twin of death! I'll rest when I am dust. Nay, then I hope that storm and hurricane Will keep me whirling. No,—I'll not go lame Even in report. Say that this move concerns My pleasure solely,—solely, Borduc.
Her. Father, I have a suit. May I not go with you? I long to make that land where you are loved, More vivid than the dream that now it is.
Hud. And find what lodestar there draws Chartrien From constancy? Well, you shall go.
Bor. Tut, tut!
Her. Dear father!
Hud. This will give domestic screen And color to our tack.
Bor. A gadding throne—
Hud. Good Borduc, we will leave the throne at home. Do not you stay?
Bor. I've some authority, You'll not dispute, my lord. Much as may go With broad election. My investiture Lies in the people's choice.
Hud. Ay, you're their bark Of freedom, where their pride may hoist full sail, But who wots better, Bordy, that 'tis puffed With winds that know my port?
Bor. They think their choice Is free. Sincere in that, they give my post A dignity not even your majesty May mock me out of.
Hud. Fools are noted most For their sincerity,—a virtue that Must stand a cipher if uncertified By wit or wisdom.
Bor. Sir, Assarians Are not the fools you think them. They are men Who have the patriot's heart, and on their flag Where you write "power" their love reads "liberty."
Hud. It does, praise be! And they may keep their flag To wear around their eyes long as they will. For then I dance my measure, while they bump In hither-whither hoodman blind and pay My fiddler too!
Bor. And what's my part in this?
Hud. The fiddler's, Borduc.
Bor. Sir?
Hud. And your next tune Is Goldusan. Come, let's rehearse.
Bor. My lord,——
[Exeunt, lower right, as Chartrien and LeVal enter left]
Her. You've come, dear Señor! Was it savagery To wrest the hour from you?
LeV. Too kindly done For such a name,—though I was deep in bond To sober thoughts, your Highness.
Her. Be so still. We would not force our humor on your heart, But share your own.
LeV. [Smiling] Can you be sad?
Her. As rains That drench October. As the gray That fringes twilight on the dark of moons. As seas that sob above a swallowed ship, Repenting storm. [Leads to seat, right] Come, sir,—and I'll be sad In what degree you choose, though I could wish it Nearer a smile than rheum, and not so heavy But that its sigh may float upon a song, A gentle song that might be sorrow's garland When moan wears down. Wilt hear one now, my lord? I have a music-maker yon whose lute Was nectared in a poet's tears the hour He lost his dream. Say you will hear him! Nay, That courtier "yes" can not o'ertake the "no" Sped from your eyes. We'll have no music. Yet The soul must love it ere one can be sad To th' very sweet of sadness. O, I know!
LeV. I love it, but not here.
Her. What here forbids? My bower! The eye translates its tenderness To fairy sound, nor need of pipe or strings.
LeV. I can not hear the bells of fairydom When life is making thunder's music 'gainst This bauble house of play——
Her. [Rising] Sir, you forget——
LeV. Nay, I remember!
Her. What do you remember?
LeV. Ah!... Pardon, princess!
Cha. May I mend this peace?
Her. [Sitting again by LeVal] It is not broken yet.
LeV. Your gentleness Has saved it, not my manners.
Her. Oh, my lord, Would I had grace to cover sorrow's breach As smoothly as a gap in courtesy! Then you should smile!
LeV. I have a happiness That makes it thievery in me to take Your pity. You've a sadder need.
Her. I'll yield No jocund vantage to that brow of yours. You hear this sombre braggart, Chartrien? Speaks as I were Despair's own fosterling!
LeV. You are. As I am Hope's. Do you not gaze On earth's foul spots and cry "A sad world this!" "We must endure!" "The dear God wills it so!" And such and such like seed of misery Till hopelessness sprouts chronic?—building then Your house of life amid its smelling weeds, Where you may dance—or pray—till you forget Your creed keeps earth in tears?
Her. And yours, my lord?
LeV. Gives her a singing and forefeeling heart Whose courage cleaves renunciation's cloud That swathes her splendor and would sighing keep Her livid 'mong the stars!
Her. You would divide Omnipotence with God, and arrogant, Assume the bigger half. But there are woes That even your hope, though it go winged and armored, Must fall before.
LeV. Not one that I'll not face Until its features mould me destiny. The shape of radiance it shall wear for man 'Neath an unslandered Heaven! I could not live If in the life about me I saw not The world within this world, and sped my hope The way that it shall take.
Her. Is not that way Called Peace, Emilio?
LeV. Not the peace that spills More blood than war, builds bigger jails, and leaves More waifs to suck the stunting, poisonous breast Of Charity! Peace as white ashes spread Upon injustice' fly-blown wrack——
Her. [Leaving him] You are A revolutionist!
LeV. And black to you, For revolution leads into the horizon, And must be figured dark to rearward eyes Though God beyond gives welcome.
Her. [Coming gently back] May we not Be patient even as Christ, who found this world The home of poverty and left it so? Did he not say the poor are ever with us?
LeV. You too must tap that last and golden nail In th' pauper's coffin!
Her. It is the nail of truth, If Christ spoke true.
LeV. Words uttered to his day, Not to all time. Not as a deathless brand Burning his own millennium. Not meant To take from man his goal, condemning him To hug an ulcer to the sick world's end, Which even your bosom must take to whitest bed Although your festrous partner be not guessed Nor visible. But if he did mean that—— That vicious thing—then he is false as hell, Denying man's bright destiny,—and I, Who vouch the triumph of an angel race, Am more a god than he!
Her. You dare blaspheme——
LeV. Because it once was said to men, whom worms Made dust of twice ten hundred years ago, "The poor are always with you," such as you Shall not forever pick your way to ease O'er broken bodies, lifting up white brows And hiding crimson feet! Daring to make The Christ your sheltering sanction while you feed On others' lives, and keep injustice sleek Even as you cosset that dim thing, your soul, And preen the wings you think bear you aloft The puddled world!
Her. You lie! You do not know Our gentle hearts, our——
LeV. Gentle? O, you're nice, You later cannibals, and will not eat Of babes at table, but you'll pipe their blood From unoffending distance, while you pray Your conscience numb and swear the source is clean. Some dare to name that fount the Love of God, And kneel him thanks!
Her. Oh, mad and impious! Who is this, Chartrien, you've dared call your friend?
[Megario steps from the grove]
Meg. He's dumb as prudence, but my tongue is free. This is Rejan LeVal, the man who hates Your father,—and my country's enemy.
LeV. [Plunging toward Megario] Murderer!
Cha. [Grasping LeVal] Come! At once!
Meg. Your pardon, prince. I must delay you. I feared your sympathy Would gird itself 'gainst justice, and took care To balk escape. [To officer who appears behind him] Be off with him. You know Your road. No stop this side Peonia's border.
Cha. Outlawry this! Stop, sir! You will not dare Kidnap him on this soil!
Meg. [Laughs] Where Hudibrand Is king?
[Exit officer with LeVal, lower right]
Her. This strains your privilege, my lord.
Cha. His privilege? My God! Did you....
Her. I did.
Meg. No third voice here is cordant. I will leave you. My thousand times most gracious lady, thanks! Again I bid you happiest good-night! [Exit]
Her. I am no adder, though your bitter eyes Give me that name.
Cha. Not bitter. In my heart, That wrapped you as the South its dearest bud, There's nothing left to warm the thought of you Even with my hate. You are the crown, the peak, The unmeaning top of all to which I'm most Indifferent. [Turns away]
Her. Look at me!
Cha. I look, and know My eyes till now were cankered, look and see The whole fair lie you are.
Her. Nay, Chartrien!
Cha. The book is open. There the brow yet shines As God o'erlilied it,—an altar urn Stuffed with profane decay. Those are the eyes Like springs within a wood where no road leads With murking pilgrim dust, yet Innocence There paused looks up no more. That is the hand That as a comrade angel's took my friend's,— Reached out as though it parted Heaven's veil To draw his grief within, then clapped him down To Hell.
Her. The place for traitors. Let him go. This moment is for us. 'Tis true your eyes Were cankered, and I thought by surgeon means To give them health, but deeper than the eyes This trouble's seat. Deep as your changèd soul, That forfeits its divinity to link With an infection. Here you stood and heard Those poured-out profanations with no move Or sound of protest. That was left for me.
Cha. What truth may pierce such ignorance, fatuous, thick! That man,—Megario,—with whom you've struck Alliant palm, twisted a lawless law To his deformed desire, and took the lands— The priceless valley lands of Cana Ru— From gentle dwellers there, whose titles bore The rooted claim of dear ancestral graves Nine generations deep,—and when they stood The guardians of their doors, faced them with guns, Dragged them to his bribed courts, weighed them with fines, And sent them to his burning maguey fields To slave and rot.
Her. No—don't——
Cha. The lands were sold To Hudibrand——
Her. It can not be!
Cha. Not be? That cry is stale as ignorance, as old As wrong. I've heard it till my ears refuse To register its emptiness. LeVal, It was, rose first against Megario,— Stood up and urged men to be Man,—and this, That makes archangels in the ranks of Heaven, Was treason upon earth. He lived—escaped— But not his wife. Anointed woman, such As centuries with conjoined virtues breed Once and no more! She was condemned, enslaved, And toiling in the steaming fields, fell down, Was flogged, and died.
Her. No! no! no! no!
Cha. So she Is free. But now LeVal goes back. My friend! O, giant heart! I see you stagger, drop, As feverous as the smitten earth——
Her. Who could Believe such things? You're wrong! You must—you shall Be wrong! He was a traitor, bitter-souled. Undoing my father's work!
Cha. Farewell!
Her. Oh, Chartrien, I did it for the best!
Cha. The woman's cry. She'd wreck a world, and from that earthquake piled Look up to say she did it for the best.
Her. You will not go? You loved me one hour past. I am not changed. I'm Hernda still.
Cha. The same. And yet I loved you. But no blush need burn The soul escaped enchantment. 'Twas a charm Enringed me with its bale till helpless there, And feeble as a babe in bassinet, I cooed away my manhood,—emptied time With infant fingering toward your protean hair!
Her. You loved me!
Cha. More than ever could be laid To madness' charge, or god that passion whelms With mortal longing till his skies become His prison, and dark earth Elysian ground Beneath the feet he loves!
Her. [With arms beseeching] Here, Chartrien, here!
Cha. Even when my eyes—so late—were wide to wrong That binds the race to pain's dread Caucasus, My mad imagination laid the gift Of seership on you, dreamed that you would go To meet the gleam of the delivering days,——
Her. With you!
Cha. Sail any sea of venture, beat Through any storm to make the prophet's port,— White priestess vassal to the truth that leads The planet into light!
Her. Together, Chartrien!
Cha. That was my dream. Then coming to your side. There was no life but yours,—no world that bled And felt the vulture feeding. Groans of men Grew still, or like the unavailing hum Of far-off, aimless bees, scarce reached my ears That heard, more near, as music from new earth, Your children call me father. Ay, 'twas but The storming undersea of passioning sex That breaking to the sky o'erlaid my stars And wore the mask of Heaven! That ebbless power, That spawning tide of Nature, by whose might She took primordial forts and made Life hers! Still does it tear belated, unassuaged, In wreck about the Mind's aspiring fanes. And shakes the nesting Spirit from her towers, Her heavenly brood unfledged!
Her. Oh! Oh!
Cha. Here—now— I beat it back, and go my way unmated Till beauty fair as yours has bred a soul And signals me! [Exit]
Her. Stay, Chartrien! Oh, my love!
[Falls. Curtain]
