Scene 1. A chamber in the palace. Nauresta on bed
asleep. Phillistus watching.
Phil. This poison's swift. Here is her cup. Why palter?
A drop will do it. [Gazes at her]
'Tis when we sleep the touch
Of life is gentlest. Even affliction's kiss
Falls like a rose upon the sense-shut lid.
Then he most miserable is as the happy,
And who so happy that is not then more blest?
And since that death is sleep's eternal sum,
Why should I pause, nor grant this precious good?
O, I could moralize me to a god
Who holds the cup of bliss for lip beloved.
Nauresta, drink, and in this little drop
Sip everlasting ease. [Pours poison]
'Tis done. I've reached
From mortal shores and opened Hades' gate.
Ay, with the gesture of a hand have hooked
Eternity.
Nau. [Waking] Phillistus, you?
Phil. 'Tis I,
Beloved Nauresta.
Nau. Flowers! You have brought them?
Phil. Can I forget you love them?
Nau. Ah, my friends!
They wear no frown to dash down hearts; nor chide
When ears are sick for quickening praise; but yield
Their royal payment for each passing care;
No vagrant dew gives them its moistening heart
But they must pay it thrice in perfumed beauty,
And bury it as never king shall lie.
O human faces, might ye turn to flowers,
How many broken hearts would live again!
Phil. This is a covert chiding of my faults,
So deep repented, love. I'll make thee happy.
Nau. My gentle daughter—she that I could call
A sister to this rose—her mute complaints
Cry like dumb, wounded birds to my sore heart,
And I pass by nor help. For what, Phillistus?
That you may wear a crown in Syracuse.
A crown that is the golden nest of cares,
Brooded by every dismal wing may hatch
An enemy to peace.
Phil. And when didst grow
So wise, Nauresta?
Nau. Midnight hours teach well.
Some sleepless nights would help you too, I think.
Wise? Ay, and not too late! I'll be no more
Your shield while you make thrust at brave Ocrastes.
I'll give him my Theano.
Phil. Does he know?
Nau. Not yet. I weakly thought to pay old love
The grace of first confession.
Phil. [Kissing her hand] Thanks for that.
This sudden turning of a heart long loyal
Has left me numb. You know how dear my purpose
That she should wed a lord of my own faction.
Give me an hour, but one, before you speak.
You break the bough that held my care-built nest,
And old wings go not blithely after straw.
Nau. They've learned to wait, and who would count an hour
Before the long day of unbroken love?
... I'm weary now, Phillistus.
Phil. Rest thee, sweet. [She sleeps]
Ah, not too soon I spiced her cup. The way
Grows perilous, and I must mount with care
To my high seat, lest I should rise to fall;
For though the path to crowns be long and slant,
There's no way down but by a precipice.
[Enter Theano bearing an urn which she places on table
by cup]
The. You're faithful, sir. [Bends over Nauresta]
Her brow is calm again.
Phil. Now were I ill 'twould quickly make me well
To have so fair a face above my bed.
The. Hear, my lord, you'd die ere mine should be there!
Phil. Surely 'tis no offence to call you fair.
The. Beauty lives not upon your commendation,
Nor with your silence dies. Spare me, my lord,
The cymbal clap of words that add no jot
To fairness.
Phil. Pardon me, dear girl. I was
Your father's friend——
The. I strive not to forget it.
Phil. And could I have your love——
The. All that is good
In you I love. Now thou'st the measure, sir,
For my affection. Is it small enough?
Phil. By heaven, you do not mince it!
Nau. [Waking] Is that my daughter?
The. See, mother, I have brought this drink for you.
[Pours beverage into cup and offers to Nauresta]
There's health in 't. Is there not, Phillistus?
Nau. There's virtue in the cup.
Even now I'm better.
The. Now?
Nau. O, I could rise!
[Sits up]
The. No, dear. Be patient yet.
Nau. Nay, I'll be up!
Pray call Methone, love, to dress me.... Ah,
Whence comes this lighter heart? How good to have it!
I feel like a new-pardoned prisoner
Tasting the air. Smile, sweet! Those lily lids
Shall droop no more with woe I lay upon them.
[Enter Methone with robes]
Now, now, Methone, make me young again.
O, not that robe! Tis for a grandame that.
My sky-gray mantle with its falling softness
Broidered like sunset clouds!
[Exit Methone]
The. I beg you, sweet——
Nau. Wilt smooth my hair? Nay, let it be as 'tis.
This way. Ah—now—[Falls back] O! Help me! Help;
Let go, ye furies!
The. Mother!
Meth. [Entering] Mistress! mistress!
Nau. 'Tis poison! poison! I am murdered. O!
My daughter—tell her—tell her—ah—Ocrastes——[Dies]
The. Have mercy, Heaven! O, Phillistus, help her!
[Faints. Phillistus holds her]
Phil. [To Methone] Go call your comrades here.
[Exit Methone]
Even now you're mine.
Ocrastes! Ha! Her last word was his name.
I'll turn this crook of fortune to account,
And make a god of accident.
The. [Reviving] O! O!
Misfortune makes my heart her sanctuary.
So many woes take shelter there.
Phil. One woe
You have escaped. Ocrastes' wicked love.
O villainous! I dare not think of it!
That he would poison one so dear to you——
The. Man, man, care for your soul! There is no stain
So black as when the gall of calumny
Breaks on the snow of virtue! You must rate
Your precious life at naught. Ocrastes, sir,
Will have your slanderous heart for this!
Phil. He may,
If 'tis your wish. You heard her cry his name
As though she saw her murderer.
The. She cried—
Ah, yes—I heard— What did she mean?
Phil. The truth.
The. Make me not mad!—He's never entered here.
Phil. Why should he when a little gold will buy
A hand for any deed?
The. The gold—the gold
He gave to Brentio! Dear Juno, help!
My mind strays from me.
Phil. Hast not found him changed?
Full of quick passions—contradictions—words
Of broken point? Seen shadows on his face
As though his mind were brooding darker matter
Than could be kept within 't? Bethink thee well,
For memory's eye reflective oft repeals
The confirmation of the grosser sight,
And what so pleased the entertain�d sense
Shows in her studied glass a fearful front.
Phil. Thy mother's word——
The. O, let me die, die, die!
Phil. My girl, all things that be may be endured.
Death does not come for this or that affliction,
But when 'tis time to knock. Up, sweet Theano!
By fortune's rudder, wheel and horn of bounty,
You shall rise fair above this foul mischance!
[Re-enter Methone]
Meth. My lady, lord Ocrastes begs to see you.
The. No, no! Not now.
Phil. Ay, see him now, Theano.
Show him the burden of this bed, nor let
The damn�d simulation of his eye
Deceive you. Bravely tell him to his face
None better knows the gate she came by death.
The. You lie!... And yet I can not see him now.
Though he is innocent, my wicked promise
Burns like accusing fire by this dear form.
Meth. Mistress, he comes!
Phil. I'll leave you with him. Courage!
[Phillistus retreats to curtains, left. Enter Ocrastes]
The. You dare come here?
Oc. I dare?
The. O, see, Ocrastes,
What lieth here! The shell of what even now
Was she who gave me birth.
Oc. Not dead? Ah, love!
The. Call me not love! Not here—and now. O, go!
Oc. Theano!
The. Touch me not! My doubt will make
Your hand a thing of fire!
Oc. Dear heart, fend off
This sea of woe or 'twill sweep reason with it.
I could be wild with strange things that I know,
And came to tell you of, but for your sake
I'm calm.
The. Dost know, sir, she was poisoned?
Oc. Poisoned?
Forgive me, love. Be mad now as thou wilt,
Still thy distraction will be stinted measure
For grief so dark. Poisoned! O, who——
The. Who? Who?
That is the question thrusts me like a sword.
All loved her—all. She had no enemy.
Oc. [Calmly] You spoke of doubt. What did you mean, Theano?
The. Leave me, Ocrastes! Go!
Oc. Phillistus——
The. No!
He loved her well. That was his touch of Heaven.
O, who had cause but——
Oc. Do not say it. I go.
Not deity descending from the skies
To make our peace could now unite us. Ay,
Thou 'rt dead to me as that cold body.
The. Oh-h! [Swoons]
Oc. And in that bosom did I come to set
A purpose I'd not whisper now to death
Lest his dumb lips should tattle. Alone—alone,
To grapple in the dark the beast of chance!
... Affection on my track shall ache to death,
Friendship in blood lie mute, and love I'll tear
From its high heaven to plunge like Ate's coals
On Pluto's fire! [Exit]
Phil. [Comes forward and revives Theano]
Sweet girl, he's gone.
The. [Rising] Where is he?
Phil. He'll trouble thee no more.
Phil. She's mad indeed!
The. Nay, sir, the cloud of pitch
That blinded me is gone. [Enter maids] Touch her not yet.
[Maids stand aside]
Methone, hasten Brentio to find
The noblest lord in Syracuse.
Meth. Who, mistress?
The. Who but Ocrastes? Go!
Phil. [Approaching her] Theano——
The. Sir.
We have no need of you. I pray you, go. [Kneels by bed]
He will forgive, then I will die with thee!
Phil. Nay, by the gods, should you so die, my maid,
Then Sicil' will have groaning cause 'gainst one
Who robs her country to make rich her grave.
Immortal Beauty must herself go wronged
Should you so break her living mould in you,
And drain her veins to your fair body trusted
For warm and deathless passage.
The. [Springing up] Are you man
Or monster that you foul this hour with thought
So gross?
Phil. A man—no more, no less—who loves
Your mother's daughter. Hate me as you will,
I here adopt your grief,—with oath and tear
Take it to love as my own child of woe,
And swear you faith to death.
The. The gods, my lord.
Record not oaths of men till they've received
The confirmation of an act. I'll wait
Their seal on yours.
Phil. This night——
Phil. You think
He'll come?
The. I've sent for him.
Phil. You're proudly sure.
Will coo your loves by this forbidding bed?
The. Ay, for her hovering shade knows now the truth.
[Enter Heraclides]
Her. Pardon, my lord, that I have sought you out.
The hour like an unbridled courser needs
Strong hands upon it. Ah,—death here?
Phil. There lies
Delay's excuse,—and yet 'tis none, for woe
Whose feast is but a heart should lift no head
Beside the large calamity that makes
A morsel of a state. How goes our matter?
Her. Aristocles is locked within the castle,
In care of Dionysius' guards.
Phil. Ah, then
He's safe.
Her. As safe as we could wish, my lord.
And I've yet fresher news. Ocrastes joins us,
With wealth and courage like an Atlas back
To bear our venture.
Phil. He revolts from Dion?
Ocrastes?
Her. He, my lord.
Phil. What works this change?
Her. A lady's morning cheek and golden hair.
He now is wed to absent Dion's wife.
Phil. What say you, sir?
Her. The lords were in debate
Of who should have her, when out comes Ocrastes,
And cries his claim with such o'er-riding proof
That Dionysius claps a quick assent
And all the court confirm him sullenly.
Ocrastes goes to Italy for troops
To meet the force which Dion brings from Greece——
Phil. But this new marriage! Tell us more. Belike
I've missed some sport.
Her. Sport? Ha! It was a scene.
Phil. But went the lady to him willingly?
Her. O, she was modest, played chameleon
And chang�d color rhythmically, as though
A music of sweet shades sat on her cheek,
Then coyly swooned, but her reviving eye,
Methinks, looked kindly on his youthful beauty.
Phil. [Watching Theano] And the young lord? Did not
his countenance
Play hers a blushing match?
Her. Ay, shame and will
Mapped out his face between 'em, but short met
In love's red constancy.
The. O! O!
Her. Once more
The lady fainted, but 'twas in his arms.
Ha, ha!
The. And yet I live!
Phil. How long, my lord,
Since this bold comedy?
Her. 'Tis now two hours
Behind us.
Phil. [To Theano] Ah, before he came to you!
What shameless shame!
The. He loved me! How—O, why?
Phil. Nay, ask not why. As well essay to trace
The legend that the soft and curling foam
Writes on the shaken wave as fix love's path
With steady eye or his vagaries mark.
Farewell an hour. I'll come again to-night
To serve your grief. You'll learn at last to trust me,
And in my heart seek comfort.
[Exeunt Phillistus and Heraclides]
The. Oh, oh, oh!
He does not love her. Would he did! I then
Might honor him that dared dishonor truth
For love's almighty sake,—but 'twas to save
His life. Ah, me, his life that sav�d thus
Abates all value and becomes as clay.
Meth. Sweet mistress!
The. O, O me!
Meth. Stay this hot flood.
Tears bring no lover back. Ay, not though maids
Should weep until their cheeks were but a mead
For two salt brooks to play.
The. O, leave me!
Meth. Nay——
The. Leave me, I say! Away! [Exit Methone]
O death! O life!—
Which wears the darker face? Here is my choice.
[Falls by Nauresta's body]
[Curtain]
Scene 2. A bare room in the castle fort. Aristocles alone.
Aris. They said a bed would be provided me,
But nothing's here. And nothing's all he needs,
Who holds himself a soul stripped of the world
And its necessities. [Lies down]
That fellow took
My cloak. Good luck to him. Philosophy,
Thou art the only sail no wind may drive
Into misfortune's port. How still the world!
The silence like a great Accuser stares,
Full of dumb curses looking from large eyes.
[Rises and walks]
... I will not see her more. O, quickly come,
Ye stoic angels wont to wait on me,
And with the cords of resolution stout
Bind ye my purpose to the throne of Zeus
That it may shake but with Olympus' self!
... Will she not think me harsh to leave her so?
She who is made of all earth's gentle things—
The scent of morn, the first green on the bough,
The valley dews where infant blossoms drink,
The going light with rose heart yearning back,—
Yet brave, and like a new Hippolita
Might wear the belt of Mars. O, flower of heaven,
Yet wrapped in soft and strange delirium
Of odors once Elysian! Naught to me,
Who will not see her more. Now is she dead,
And I know but a grave. I'll sleep ... sleep ... sleep.
[Lies still. Enter Aratea. She is veiled, and her unbound
hair falls about her form]
Ara. [Drawing inner bolt to door] I scarce could bribe the guard to let me pass!
[Looks about room and sees Aristocles]
Asleep? [Crosses to him. Unveils] Rise, friend!
Aris. [Starting] My dream.
Ara. Aristocles!
Aris. [Rising] You? you?
Ara. I, friend.
Aris. 'Tis you—and yet 'tis not.
A stranger soul, disordered and unknown,
Looks from your eyes.
Aris. I've had some thought 'twas so. I die to-night?
Ara. No, no! dear Heaven! See!
[Opens door, left] This inner room.
It has a hidden stairway to the sea
Where waits a boat will bear you to a sail
New-spread for Greece, with crew that know the wave
As though begot of mermaids.
Aris. No! To make
Presumptuous end of life is an offence
To Heaven, but gracious gods may offer death
For honorable choice—as they do now—
And here I choose it.
Ara. Thy choice then must be mine.
My hope was you would fly and hasten Dion
To my deliverance. For I am sold.
The cords of bondage cut in very flesh.
But ask not now of this. This letter here
Will tell my lord what I have spared you. Go,
Or I've no hope, and then—by this bright blade—
[showing a dagger]
I die.
Aris. Ah, what you will! Command me.
Ara. [Moving left] Come!
Into this chamber!
[Exeunt, and in a moment re-enter]
O, the door new-sealed!
Apollo help us now!... Did you not see
The narrow window in that chamber?
Aris. Ay,
The stars looked on us as we passed, as though
They smiled to see how man would measure time
With periods clept death.
Aris. I will.
Ara. Tis not far down—but O, the rocks
Jut up like monsters. No! You shall not do it.
'Twere death with treble pain.
Aris. Then I'll die here.
To go from your fair presence to the gods
Is hardly change.
Ara. 'Twould change the world that lost thee.
Then would this isle uncrown herself of joy,
And palsying shake beauty from her lap.
The flowers would die in pain, and every leaf
Fast wither, fade and fall, as those that moan
O'er Thracian Phyllis' grave. I will not stay
Without my friend. Ah no, 'twould not be life.
Aris. The longest days are breaths, quick-drawn and short,
The longest life a day to be forgot.
Thou soon wouldst come.
Ara. I could not find the way.
'Tis with your eyes, not mine, I catch the light
Unalterable upon immortal brows
And keep my course.
Aris. Nay, thou'st no need of guide.
Shine out, bright soul, and dim thy troubling stars.
Ara. [Turns aside, weeping] You do not know!
Aris. Be true unto the calm
Of Heaven in you set. Who trust to aught
That's of their souls externe but give themselves
As feathers to the wind.
Ara. [Slowly] My lord, this night,
By Dionysius' force, my hand was given
In marriage to Ocrastes. Dost thou hear?
Ocrastes sails this hour for Italy.
Ere he returns——
Aris. Thou'st whirled away my soul!
O stroke of Dis! O faithless Heaven! He?
Not he! Such mid-hell treachery is out
Of mortal meaning!
Ara. He is mad, I think.
He loves me not.
Aris. I'd sport a madman too!
Wear lunacy as doth a king his purple,
If that would draw a goddess from the skies
To quiet in my arms! Did it not strain
Forbearance to the snap that Dion—whose wisdom
Humbles the mouth of Zeus—whose justice is
The boast of shades when Rhadamanthus blunders—
Should wear the chiefest pearl to mortals cast—
Sweet Beauty's sole extravagance—as 'twere
A something to be stained with human love
And gods not question it? Who then could see
It made the common booty of a thief,
Nor break the cable of a mind controlled
And lose the shore of reason? Who?
Ara. [Kneeling] Be calm
If thou wouldst help me.
Aris. [Not heeding] Pity, weep, weep, weep!
O, from thy woeful heaven cast a dew
As universal as the East when she
To every herb throws pearls!
Ara. [Leaping up] The guards! They come!
But I go with thee, sir. 'Tis not farewell.
Aris. [Calm] Not you. I die because Elysian mates
Now summon me. No need excuses there
The guest intrusive. Stay thee for thy call,
Nor but to save an hour of painful breath
Cut ever off the never ending day
We two shall walk the clouds too happy e'en
To love. Give me that hope, and dying now
I live. Deny it, and 'tis you, not swords,
That wound. They slay poor flesh, that gauzy breath
Sole guards from wormy ravage. You would strike
My never-healing soul! Those steps of doom——
Ara. Hark! Ah—they pass! Dear gods, is there no way?
Aris. The window.
Ara. No!
Aris. I'll make the leap and live
To set you free!
Ara. No, no! The rocks would gash
More cruelly than swords. Wait—O! Blest Heaven!
Thou 'rt saved! Wait here!
[Runs into inner room]
Aris. Go, spirit beautiful!
Her hair enrobes her like a parted cloud
That opes to show us Heaven.... Give now my flesh
To swords, ye gods, but save me from the death
That has no end!...
[Re-enter Aratea, shorn of her locks, which she lays at
Aristocles' feet. Her veil is draped about her, concealing
her loss]
O! Maimed, my goddess?
Ara. See?
I knew you'd say me nay. But now 'tis done.
Aris. Those locks of Venus' gold.
Ara. The dagger served.
Aris. Too well!
Ara. [Weaving the locks] Not so. Now, now a rope to bridge
Eternity for thee! More strands! Lend me
Your lightnings, blessed skies, to weave this chain!
Aris. Your flying fingers need them not.
Ara. More, more!
A thousand hairs, they say, will hold a man.
Aris. Ay, one will do it.
Ara. Merry, my lord? Why not?
Apollo, smile upon us! I know we dream.
See how I make this fast? It is your life
I lengthen.
Aris. O, 'tis bought too preciously!
[Takes up a lock and kisses it]
What waste of sun and gold!
Ara. Nay, when you're safe,
I'll cast it to fair Venus on the sea,
A votive offering. Look now! 'Tis done.
Aris. So soon?
Ara. And you must go.
Aris. Art sure 'tis done?
Ara. Afraid, my lord?
Aris. Afraid!
Ara. You see 'tis finished.
Aris. Ay, 'tis.
Ara. The window—come! We'll make this fast—
And then—farewell!
Aris. Till I return with Dion.
Ara. Return? No, no, my lord! O, come no more
To this cursed land. Be happy in thy Athens.
And Plenty bless thee as thou wert her child,
Swelling thy measure till prosperity
Hang on thy look like fruit invisible
Dropping to whom thou wilt.
Aris. And you—and you—
My heart is dumb. What gods wish for themselves
Become a human fortune and befall thee!
[Exeunt. Guards approach and beat door. Re-enter
Aratea]
Ara. Strike, dogs! Some say Apollo fathered him.
O, god of melody, guard thou the life
That beats a perfect song!
[Door falls and Domenes enters with guards]
Ara. A princess, sir.
Dom. Where is the prisoner?
Ara. He's gone.
Dom. Gone! How? Where?
Ara. Did not Zeus himself
Steal Ganymede? Why not Aristocles?
[Curtain]