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!
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——!
(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——
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
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,
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.)
... 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.
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.
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.)
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.)
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.
(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,
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
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.
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.)
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——
(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—
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.)
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.