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Title: In the name of Time
a tragedy
Author: Michael Field
Release date: December 10, 2023 [eBook #72364]
Language: English
Original publication: London: The Poetry Workshop, 1919
Credits: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE NAME OF TIME ***
IN THE NAME OF TIME
PERSONS
ACT I.,
ACT II.,
ACT III.,
ACT IV.,
ACT V.
IN THE NAME OF TIME
OTHER WORKS BY MICHAEL FIELD
| CALLIRRHOE | 1884 |
| FAIR ROSAMUND | 1884 & 1897 |
| THE TRAGIC MARY | 1890 |
| UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH | 1893 |
| THE WORLD AT AUCTION | 1898 |
| THE RACE OF LEAVES | 1901 |
| JULIA DOMNA | 1903 |
| BORGIA | 1905 |
| WILD HONEY | 1908 |
| QUEEN MARIAMNE | 1908 |
| THE ACCUSER | 1911 |
| THE TRAGEDY OF PARDON | 1911 |
| POEMS OF ADORATION | 1912 |
| MYSTIC TREES | 1913 |
| DEDICATED | 1914 |
| DEIRDRE | 1918 |
IN THE
NAME OF TIME
A
TRAGEDY
BY
MICHAEL
FIELD
THE POETRY BOOKSHOP
35 DEVONSHIRE ST. THEOBALDS RD.
LONDON W.C.
MCMXIX
IN THE NAME OF TIME:
A TRAGEDY
“In the Name of Time.”—The Winter’s Tale, iv, I, chorus.
ἅπανθ᾽ ὁ μακρὸς κἀναρίθμητος χρόνος
φύει τ᾽ ἄδηλα καὶ φανέντα κρύπτεται:
κοὐκ ἔστ᾽ ἄελπτον οὐδέν, ἀλλ᾽ ἁλίσκεται
χὠ δεινὸς ὅρκος χαἰ περισκελεῖς φρένες.
φύει τ᾽ ἄδηλα καὶ φανέντα κρύπτεται:
κοὐκ ἔστ᾽ ἄελπτον οὐδέν, ἀλλ᾽ ἁλίσκεται
χὠ δεινὸς ὅρκος χαἰ περισκελεῖς φρένες.
Sophocles—Ajax 646.
Quoted from R. C. Trevelyan’s Translation on the Cover.
PERSONS
| Chilperic | King of the Franks. |
| Carloman } | { Sons of Charles Martel, |
| Pepin } | { Consuls and Mayors of the Palace. |
| Marcomir | A Frankish Count. |
| Rachis | King of the Lombards. |
| Astolph | His brother. |
| Zacharias | The Pope. |
| Damiani | An Italian Bishop. |
| Boniface | A Missionary Saint. |
| Geneviva | Wife to Carloman. |
Cardinals, Nobles, Monks, Servants.
ACT I.
Scene: Paris. A Hall in the Royal Palace.
Carloman is pacing backward and forward: he pauses by a crucifix set up at the further end of the hall.
CARLOMAN.
Thou sayest truly that I am—a King
He said Who laid His life down on the Cross:
So will I be, a King. I will possess
The great reality. I war and govern,
I can strike hard as Charles the Hammerer;
Men say I have my father’s qualities,
And in the brief months of my sovereignty
The infidel has recognised my blood:
But this is nothing! Phantom-Emperors
Have made the throne phantasmal. I have felt
In Zacharias, the great Pope, a force
That spreads like spring across the world. No more
Will I be petty marshal to a crew
That hack and murder, while the royal faces
Of wandering martyrs scintillate and thrill.
There is a glorious Betterness at work
Amid the highways and the solitudes;
I would be with it—in obscurity,
No matter!—with the river as it shapes
Its cisterns in the hills or where the wind
First draws its silver volumes to a voice:
Behind, at the beginning, from within:
A cry, a pang—what shall respond to it,
Who help me? I have fiery thoughts of God,
I would attempt Him. In the wilderness
Maybe He will unbosom.
He said Who laid His life down on the Cross:
So will I be, a King. I will possess
The great reality. I war and govern,
I can strike hard as Charles the Hammerer;
Men say I have my father’s qualities,
And in the brief months of my sovereignty
The infidel has recognised my blood:
But this is nothing! Phantom-Emperors
Have made the throne phantasmal. I have felt
In Zacharias, the great Pope, a force
That spreads like spring across the world. No more
Will I be petty marshal to a crew
That hack and murder, while the royal faces
Of wandering martyrs scintillate and thrill.
There is a glorious Betterness at work
Amid the highways and the solitudes;
I would be with it—in obscurity,
No matter!—with the river as it shapes
Its cisterns in the hills or where the wind
First draws its silver volumes to a voice:
Behind, at the beginning, from within:
A cry, a pang—what shall respond to it,
Who help me? I have fiery thoughts of God,
I would attempt Him. In the wilderness
Maybe He will unbosom.
[Enter a Servant.]
SERVANT.
The Archbishop
Of Mentz would see you.
Of Mentz would see you.
CARLOMAN.
Blessèd Boniface!
He brings me my enfranchisement.
He brings me my enfranchisement.
[As Boniface enters the Servant withdraws.]
Great Angel,
My spirit leaps within me to be born,
Beholding you.
My spirit leaps within me to be born,
Beholding you.
BONIFACE.
My son, the Holy Father
Receives you joyously.
Receives you joyously.
CARLOMAN.
[kissing Boniface] To go to God
Living, unscathed, to give Him everything
One has, to pour one’s soul into His lap,
To let Him play upon one as the wind,
To feel His alternations ...!
Living, unscathed, to give Him everything
One has, to pour one’s soul into His lap,
To let Him play upon one as the wind,
To feel His alternations ...!
BONIFACE.
Carloman,
Your childlike transport shall be surely blessed:
Yet in the convent there are bitter hours
Of exile from God’s presence, penances—
Your childlike transport shall be surely blessed:
Yet in the convent there are bitter hours
Of exile from God’s presence, penances—
CARLOMAN.
But will they choke my solitude with prayers?
BONIFACE.
CARLOMAN.
There have been hermits! Might I live alone,
I could breathe unrepiningly the while
It pleased God to keep silence. I would tame
Some wistful, kingly beast to roam with me,
And we would wait His pleasure. Boniface,
Oh, tell me of His coming! It is plain
He has been with you—You became His friend?
I could breathe unrepiningly the while
It pleased God to keep silence. I would tame
Some wistful, kingly beast to roam with me,
And we would wait His pleasure. Boniface,
Oh, tell me of His coming! It is plain
He has been with you—You became His friend?
BONIFACE.
His servant rather.
CARLOMAN.
That I cannot be;
I am a Knight free-born; I come as those
Great nobles of the East, and all my service
Is adoration. You may have some converts,
Brute-tribes, who give allegiance to His name,
As those who do not speak the Emperor’s tongue
May rank his subjects. I am not of these.
I am a Knight free-born; I come as those
Great nobles of the East, and all my service
Is adoration. You may have some converts,
Brute-tribes, who give allegiance to His name,
As those who do not speak the Emperor’s tongue
May rank his subjects. I am not of these.
BONIFACE.
Thou speakest truth, my son; there are some souls
Loved of the Lord as Paul in Araby
With whom one must not meddle. In good time
You will exalt the Church; meanwhile your brother
Who has a tighter grip of circumstance
Than you—
Loved of the Lord as Paul in Araby
With whom one must not meddle. In good time
You will exalt the Church; meanwhile your brother
Who has a tighter grip of circumstance
Than you—
CARLOMAN.
He is short-sighted, politic,
External in his bent. I lead the charge
In battle, I foresee the combinations
Of foreign forces; he is good at siege,
And all the hectoring process of delay.
He is not like my father. That great fight
At Tours! I feel the onslaught in my blood;
It never can run sluggish.
External in his bent. I lead the charge
In battle, I foresee the combinations
Of foreign forces; he is good at siege,
And all the hectoring process of delay.
He is not like my father. That great fight
At Tours! I feel the onslaught in my blood;
It never can run sluggish.
BONIFACE.
Had you seen
King Chilperic’s flower-wreathed waggon in the street!—
You should have looked a last time on the world
Ere you renounced it.
King Chilperic’s flower-wreathed waggon in the street!—
You should have looked a last time on the world
Ere you renounced it.
CARLOMAN.
Scanned the heir of Clovis
Drawn like a senseless idol in his car!
You judge unworthily. God bade me come
Up higher to Him on a battlefield
Where I was victor. It was in the night—
I moved about among my sleeping men,
I heard them shout for triumph in their dreams:
It was enough!
Drawn like a senseless idol in his car!
You judge unworthily. God bade me come
Up higher to Him on a battlefield
Where I was victor. It was in the night—
I moved about among my sleeping men,
I heard them shout for triumph in their dreams:
It was enough!
BONIFACE.
Yes, all is vanity;
The pride of life, its splendour, vanitas!
The pride of life, its splendour, vanitas!
CARLOMAN.
There is no vanity in life; life utters
Unsparing truth to us,—there is no line
Or record in our body of her printing
That stamps a falsehood. Do not so confound,
Father, life’s transience and sincerity.
What makes the show out in the streets so vile
Is that it blazons forth the lie that youth,
Kingship and power are ineffectual.
A show of death where life should radiate
Is vanity. And if I now fling off
The honourable titles of my state,
Consul and Patriarch, it is not because
I have not nobly borne them; by my sword
The Church has been defended, and the corn
That bows in shocks about your monasteries
Bows down above the battlefields I won.
You misconceive.
Unsparing truth to us,—there is no line
Or record in our body of her printing
That stamps a falsehood. Do not so confound,
Father, life’s transience and sincerity.
What makes the show out in the streets so vile
Is that it blazons forth the lie that youth,
Kingship and power are ineffectual.
A show of death where life should radiate
Is vanity. And if I now fling off
The honourable titles of my state,
Consul and Patriarch, it is not because
I have not nobly borne them; by my sword
The Church has been defended, and the corn
That bows in shocks about your monasteries
Bows down above the battlefields I won.
You misconceive.
BONIFACE.
CARLOMAN.
Why should you look so fearful? I have chosen
The path of life, choosing to be a monk,
And I have wisely chosen.
The path of life, choosing to be a monk,
And I have wisely chosen.
BONIFACE.
Ah, beloved!
CARLOMAN.
Now I must face my brother. Would he come
By chance! I dare not crave a conference.
I am arrested at the lips if ever
We speak of anything beyond affairs.
He will not understand—at least to-day,
When fresh from the procession of that cursed
Do-nothing Chilperic.
By chance! I dare not crave a conference.
I am arrested at the lips if ever
We speak of anything beyond affairs.
He will not understand—at least to-day,
When fresh from the procession of that cursed
Do-nothing Chilperic.
BONIFACE.
Set your purpose forth
At once, and let him freely misconceive:
You must not cloud for that.
At once, and let him freely misconceive:
You must not cloud for that.
CARLOMAN.
These mighty thoughts,
Mingled with God, how put them to the shame
Of the world’s censure! What you call my soul
Flees as a shy girl that escapes pursuit.
Mingled with God, how put them to the shame
Of the world’s censure! What you call my soul
Flees as a shy girl that escapes pursuit.
BONIFACE.
Take your shame meekly. Do not let your eyes
Grow wild and hostile!
Grow wild and hostile!
[Boniface, who has seen Pepin approaching, withdraws to the back of the hall, stands before the Crucifix in mute prayer, and then passes out, looking back at the brothers. Pepin is a short, stout man, with florid complexion and much vehemence of manner. He wipes the perspiration from his face and addresses Carloman without looking at him.]
PEPIN.
Woden, what a sight!
This Chilperic is an idol that the people
No longer worship as his car rolls on.
Contempt, indifference! A few more months
Will rid us of the calf. We pull together
In right good part, fraternal, taking pride
Each in the other’s excellence: ere long
The Pope will pour his oil upon our heads
To nourish our short curls.
This Chilperic is an idol that the people
No longer worship as his car rolls on.
Contempt, indifference! A few more months
Will rid us of the calf. We pull together
In right good part, fraternal, taking pride
Each in the other’s excellence: ere long
The Pope will pour his oil upon our heads
To nourish our short curls.
CARLOMAN.
He has the power
Of making Kings?
Of making Kings?
PEPIN.
Liutbrand the Lombard winced
Before him and resigned the Exarchite:
And he who can impoverish may endow.
Before him and resigned the Exarchite:
And he who can impoverish may endow.
CARLOMAN.
[with a sudden movement]
Pepin, we have not looked upon the face
Of Zacharias: I am bound for Rome.
Pepin, we have not looked upon the face
Of Zacharias: I am bound for Rome.
PEPIN.
A pilgrimage? Stay where you are! Tut, tut!
Wait till he seek us. Frankland is his hope
Against the Lombard: when he seeks us then
We twain will offer him our dutiful,
Strong swords, and keep St. Peter’s realm intact;
While, in return, that gracious influence,
That something that we lack to give our strength
Supremacy, shall be poured down on us.
Wait till he seek us. Frankland is his hope
Against the Lombard: when he seeks us then
We twain will offer him our dutiful,
Strong swords, and keep St. Peter’s realm intact;
While, in return, that gracious influence,
That something that we lack to give our strength
Supremacy, shall be poured down on us.
CARLOMAN.
PEPIN.
Are you clean gone mad!
Become a monk, you, Consul, Patriarch!
Our mother had been Christian scarce a year
Before your birth, and haply took the priest
Too much into her privacy. By Thor—
Become a monk, you, Consul, Patriarch!
Our mother had been Christian scarce a year
Before your birth, and haply took the priest
Too much into her privacy. By Thor—
CARLOMAN.
[taking him by the throat]
No, but by God Incarnate, you shall swear
You own me son of Christendom’s great guard
Ere you again draw unimperilled breath!
I, Carloman, your elder, the first-born
Of Charles Martel, of my own choice renounce
My portion in his honours. Own my birthright!
No, but by God Incarnate, you shall swear
You own me son of Christendom’s great guard
Ere you again draw unimperilled breath!
I, Carloman, your elder, the first-born
Of Charles Martel, of my own choice renounce
My portion in his honours. Own my birthright!
PEPIN.
Plague take you!
CARLOMAN.
Own it!
PEPIN.
Give a fellow breath,
Don’t ...
You have your father’s temper, that’s the test!
I loved you as a boy and set my teeth
Against a rare, sweet craziness that takes you
In certain moods—you need a keeper then:
You need one now. Hold fast your birthright, man;
Don’t trust me with temptation. Geneviva
Will relish this new folly less than I—
Chuck her beneath the chin and threaten her
With your design! She is too young a widow
For me to govern.
Don’t ...
You have your father’s temper, that’s the test!
I loved you as a boy and set my teeth
Against a rare, sweet craziness that takes you
In certain moods—you need a keeper then:
You need one now. Hold fast your birthright, man;
Don’t trust me with temptation. Geneviva
Will relish this new folly less than I—
Chuck her beneath the chin and threaten her
With your design! She is too young a widow
For me to govern.
CARLOMAN.
PEPIN.
That flush across your forehead like a scar
At mention of your wife! Her lovers!—Think
If you withdrew protection....
At mention of your wife! Her lovers!—Think
If you withdrew protection....
CARLOMAN.
Purity,
In woman the ideal and the dream,
Has its firm seat amid the altitudes
Of manhood’s nature—There alone are seats
Of holy contemplation, sexless thoughts,
Love that in God finds goal, a loneliness
That truth, not sympathy, can cure. ’Tis vain
The hope that woman, made to minister
To momentary passion, can provide
Solace and inspiration to her mate.
She breeds no hope; she cannot offer us
A clime for our ideals and our dreams,
Or plant a footstep soft as memory’s
Across futurity’s unimpressed sands.
In woman the ideal and the dream,
Has its firm seat amid the altitudes
Of manhood’s nature—There alone are seats
Of holy contemplation, sexless thoughts,
Love that in God finds goal, a loneliness
That truth, not sympathy, can cure. ’Tis vain
The hope that woman, made to minister
To momentary passion, can provide
Solace and inspiration to her mate.
She breeds no hope; she cannot offer us
A clime for our ideals and our dreams,
Or plant a footstep soft as memory’s
Across futurity’s unimpressed sands.
PEPIN.
You speak from fact, I own.
But Boniface,
What does he say?
But Boniface,
What does he say?
CARLOMAN.
He aids me.
PEPIN.
[slapping him on the shoulder] Carloman,
’Twould be cold work without you.
’Twould be cold work without you.
CARLOMAN.
But my son——
PEPIN.
CARLOMAN.
Yet love him for my sake; give him free training
In war and letters.
In war and letters.
PEPIN.
Fie, fie! Geneviva
Will put you from this project. In the cloister
What would you see but men who dig and pray?—
No royal pageants.
Will put you from this project. In the cloister
What would you see but men who dig and pray?—
No royal pageants.
[King Chilperic is borne in a litter with great pomp. His golden hair sweeps over the sides of the litter; his face is nerveless and exhausted.]
CARLOMAN.
[with an ironic smile] Such as this. The King!
Tell him I have transferred the Mayoralty
To you, and do not taunt me any more.
Tell him I have transferred the Mayoralty
To you, and do not taunt me any more.
PEPIN.
[to Chilperic]
Sire, you are weary, yet we crave the grace
Of a brief audience.
Sire, you are weary, yet we crave the grace
Of a brief audience.
CHILPERIC.
Business! I can brook
No more of these distractions. Your good brother
Relieves me of all business. I can hear
Scarcely the people’s clamour when they shout,
And I am shy at facing them. To know
There is a god indifferent to its whims
Gives the world courage of its natural awe;
So I expose these curls; that duty done,
Leave me at ease, an idol in his niche.
No more of these distractions. Your good brother
Relieves me of all business. I can hear
Scarcely the people’s clamour when they shout,
And I am shy at facing them. To know
There is a god indifferent to its whims
Gives the world courage of its natural awe;
So I expose these curls; that duty done,
Leave me at ease, an idol in his niche.
PEPIN.
CHILPERIC.
[with passing animation]
This interests us. After so brief a term
Of dignity! But I applaud his sense:
The convent is a place for peace of mind;
One has no interruption, one may watch
The gold-fish in the fountain half a day,
If so one will; and, though the prayers are long,
One grows accustomed to them as to meals
And looks for their recurrence.
[suspiciously] But, my Consul,
With you it cannot be the luxury
Of doing nothing that attracts. For us
It is the happy and predestined lot;
But for an untamed youth whose pleasures still
Are running in the current of his blood,
Such choice is of ill-omen.
This interests us. After so brief a term
Of dignity! But I applaud his sense:
The convent is a place for peace of mind;
One has no interruption, one may watch
The gold-fish in the fountain half a day,
If so one will; and, though the prayers are long,
One grows accustomed to them as to meals
And looks for their recurrence.
[suspiciously] But, my Consul,
With you it cannot be the luxury
Of doing nothing that attracts. For us
It is the happy and predestined lot;
But for an untamed youth whose pleasures still
Are running in the current of his blood,
Such choice is of ill-omen.
CARLOMAN.
Courage, sire,
Is constant industry for happiness.
When I become a monk——
Is constant industry for happiness.
When I become a monk——
CHILPERIC.
Nay, no confession,
No putting reasons to your Overlord.
[to his nobles]
You need not shake your spears so stormily,
We leave you a stout leader for your wars,
[to Carloman] And you, your liberty. What use of it
You make is of no moment to the world,
And does not raise my curiosity,
Who for myself have found in meat and drink,
In sleep and long, long abstinence from care
The pleasure proper to me. Pepin, come!
No putting reasons to your Overlord.
[to his nobles]
You need not shake your spears so stormily,
We leave you a stout leader for your wars,
[to Carloman] And you, your liberty. What use of it
You make is of no moment to the world,
And does not raise my curiosity,
Who for myself have found in meat and drink,
In sleep and long, long abstinence from care
The pleasure proper to me. Pepin, come!
[Exeunt Chilperic, Pepin and the Frankish Nobles.]
CARLOMAN.
He has no sight of God, is imbecile
And dropping into clay. I should not let
This show dishearten me; but I have suffered
A vulgar tongue to tell what from my lips
Alone is truth—that as the hidden spring,
Restless at touch of the diviner’s rod
Is dragged through to the surface by his spells,
I am discovered and borne upward, made
The answer to some perilous appeal:
And for my folly I must be dismissed
By a mere dotard with a passing sigh
Of envy, who forego the battlefield,
The Council-chamber, the sweet clang of arms
For just a pricking wonder at my heart,
A knowledge I would give to secrecy
Plunging it headlong in the ear of God.
Oh for the cloister! I will make escape
At once, in silence, without taking leave:
My joy is in the consciousness that Time
Will never draw me back to any wish
To any fondness I am flinging off....
And dropping into clay. I should not let
This show dishearten me; but I have suffered
A vulgar tongue to tell what from my lips
Alone is truth—that as the hidden spring,
Restless at touch of the diviner’s rod
Is dragged through to the surface by his spells,
I am discovered and borne upward, made
The answer to some perilous appeal:
And for my folly I must be dismissed
By a mere dotard with a passing sigh
Of envy, who forego the battlefield,
The Council-chamber, the sweet clang of arms
For just a pricking wonder at my heart,
A knowledge I would give to secrecy
Plunging it headlong in the ear of God.
Oh for the cloister! I will make escape
At once, in silence, without taking leave:
My joy is in the consciousness that Time
Will never draw me back to any wish
To any fondness I am flinging off....
[Enter Geneviva.]
My wife!
Is Geneviva come to me?
Is Geneviva come to me?
GENEVIVA.
Now the dull monk has left you. Rouse your head!
I have been taking thought how best to trim
My beauty for you. Boniface was slow
In giving counsel; slowly I took up,
Handled and dropt my jewels. Of a sudden,
When Pepin’s voice was heard upon the stair,
I laid these blossoms in a ruddy knot
Thus hasty on my bosom. Come to me.
My lord, you owe me many hours of love,
So many hours I have been beautiful
In vain. You do not see me when I sing,
You miss the marks of music in my face,
You do not love the hunt, and you have never
Ridden beside me in the morning light.
You see me but as now when I am vexed
And haughty for caresses.
I have been taking thought how best to trim
My beauty for you. Boniface was slow
In giving counsel; slowly I took up,
Handled and dropt my jewels. Of a sudden,
When Pepin’s voice was heard upon the stair,
I laid these blossoms in a ruddy knot
Thus hasty on my bosom. Come to me.
My lord, you owe me many hours of love,
So many hours I have been beautiful
In vain. You do not see me when I sing,
You miss the marks of music in my face,
You do not love the hunt, and you have never
Ridden beside me in the morning light.
You see me but as now when I am vexed
And haughty for caresses.
CARLOMAN.
[after a pause] Geneviva,
You are a Christian?
You are a Christian?
GENEVIVA.
Dear my lord, you speak
As if I were laid sick.
As if I were laid sick.
CARLOMAN.
You were baptised?
GENEVIVA.
Assuredly, but the cold font has left
No chill upon my heart. Think not of that,
Think of our marriage-day. You leave me lonely
While Boniface enthralls you.
No chill upon my heart. Think not of that,
Think of our marriage-day. You leave me lonely
While Boniface enthralls you.
CARLOMAN.
[with hesitation] Women even
Have put aside their pomps and vanities ...
Have put aside their pomps and vanities ...
GENEVIVA.
Oh, leave me, you are insupportable!
You bring me word of kingdoms and of monks,
And thoughts of things that have not come to pass,
Or should be quite forgotten. We could spend
So sweet a moment now, for you are loved,
My Carloman—What need is there of talk
Concerning other matters?—loved of me,
Dreamed of when I am dreaming, when I wake
Wept for, sighed after. I have never cared
To listen to the minstrels, for the praise
My beauty covets most is in your eyes.
How wild they look and solemn!
You bring me word of kingdoms and of monks,
And thoughts of things that have not come to pass,
Or should be quite forgotten. We could spend
So sweet a moment now, for you are loved,
My Carloman—What need is there of talk
Concerning other matters?—loved of me,
Dreamed of when I am dreaming, when I wake
Wept for, sighed after. I have never cared
To listen to the minstrels, for the praise
My beauty covets most is in your eyes.
How wild they look and solemn!
[Carloman folds her in his arms quietly. Then with great effort bends over her and speaks]
CARLOMAN.
Marcomir
Is restless for a pilgrimage to Rome.
I think we shall be starting presently:
And afterward ... If I am long away ...
Is restless for a pilgrimage to Rome.
I think we shall be starting presently:
And afterward ... If I am long away ...
GENEVIVA.
[breaking from him]
Oh, think a little! Can you leave this hair
So crisp and burnished? When the sun is bright
Across your shield, it has no livelier flash—
Confess, it has not? But you come to me
Stale, weary from your dreams and abstinence,
And tingle my suspicion.
Oh, think a little! Can you leave this hair
So crisp and burnished? When the sun is bright
Across your shield, it has no livelier flash—
Confess, it has not? But you come to me
Stale, weary from your dreams and abstinence,
And tingle my suspicion.
CARLOMAN.
If these dreams
Were growing all the world to me!—You start,
You turn away, you will not understand.
The fear of hurting you has made me keep
So distant from you lately, and my eyes
You thought were worn with vigil and with books
Have burnt with tears at night for many a month
To think you have not known the tyrant-joy
That moves a soul to change and severance,
Except upon the day when for my sake
You parted from your home: but by the rapture
That made such tumult in the daughter’s grief
When she became a bride, your husband now
Implores your comprehension.
All thou hast,
So the Church teaches, family and spouse,
The child thou hast begotten, thine own life
Thou must abhor, if thou would’st have new days
Of blessing on the Earth. I feel this law
Is written in my very heart of hearts,
There is such haunting freshness deep below
The sorrow of farewell.
Were growing all the world to me!—You start,
You turn away, you will not understand.
The fear of hurting you has made me keep
So distant from you lately, and my eyes
You thought were worn with vigil and with books
Have burnt with tears at night for many a month
To think you have not known the tyrant-joy
That moves a soul to change and severance,
Except upon the day when for my sake
You parted from your home: but by the rapture
That made such tumult in the daughter’s grief
When she became a bride, your husband now
Implores your comprehension.
All thou hast,
So the Church teaches, family and spouse,
The child thou hast begotten, thine own life
Thou must abhor, if thou would’st have new days
Of blessing on the Earth. I feel this law
Is written in my very heart of hearts,
There is such haunting freshness deep below
The sorrow of farewell.
GENEVIVA.
[defiantly] My God is Love—
The God who made a bower in Paradise,
Who wedded Eve and Adam, who abode
In the sweet incense of His Church to bless
My marriage.
[Carloman stretches out his hand to support her.]
Have no fear that I shall fall,
I cannot swoon while I remember it—
How in the songful hush a restless hand
Grew tight about my fingers, and a vow
Thrilled all the girl in me to womanhood,
And stung the future lying at my heart
To joy and frankness. That was years ago ...
[She breaks into a bitter laugh]
O Carloman, you know not what you do,
You know not what I am, nor what a blank
Of mercy there is in you!
The God who made a bower in Paradise,
Who wedded Eve and Adam, who abode
In the sweet incense of His Church to bless
My marriage.
[Carloman stretches out his hand to support her.]
Have no fear that I shall fall,
I cannot swoon while I remember it—
How in the songful hush a restless hand
Grew tight about my fingers, and a vow
Thrilled all the girl in me to womanhood,
And stung the future lying at my heart
To joy and frankness. That was years ago ...
[She breaks into a bitter laugh]
O Carloman, you know not what you do,
You know not what I am, nor what a blank
Of mercy there is in you!
CARLOMAN.
Were I dead,
You would not be so violent: in a trance
Of resignation you would think of me,
With tears, not gasping laughter.
You would not be so violent: in a trance
Of resignation you would think of me,
With tears, not gasping laughter.
GENEVIVA.
[pacing the room excitedly] Pilgrimage!
Did you say, pilgrimage? To think of you
Growing each day more cramped about the mouth,
More full of resolution in the eyes.
What shall I do? Pray for you—but the dead,
You have just told me, should be left unmourned,
Forgotten as last summer’s autumn-leaves.
[facing him coldly] My lord, I am no reliquary-urn;
There is no widow in me.
Did you say, pilgrimage? To think of you
Growing each day more cramped about the mouth,
More full of resolution in the eyes.
What shall I do? Pray for you—but the dead,
You have just told me, should be left unmourned,
Forgotten as last summer’s autumn-leaves.
[facing him coldly] My lord, I am no reliquary-urn;
There is no widow in me.
[with still greater change of manner] If you leave
Your Kingdom, there are certain things to do
Before you start. There is that Gothic King,
The captive Hermann—you must break his chains.
Your Kingdom, there are certain things to do
Before you start. There is that Gothic King,
The captive Hermann—you must break his chains.
CARLOMAN.
Hermann is dead. Count Marcomir reports
Last night he found him lifeless.
Last night he found him lifeless.
GENEVIVA.
[gasping] Late last night?
Marcomir!—Take your fingers from my sleeve;
But summon Marcomir, and if again
There is intelligence to break to me
Likely to hurt, give him the charge of it.
Marcomir!—Take your fingers from my sleeve;
But summon Marcomir, and if again
There is intelligence to break to me
Likely to hurt, give him the charge of it.