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Plays and Lyrics

Chapter 97: MAYA
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About This Book

This collection features a previously unpublished play set in the sixteenth century on the island of Cyprus, alongside a variety of dramatic and non-dramatic lyrics. The play explores themes of love, loyalty, and the complexities of human relationships against a backdrop of historical and cultural tensions. The lyrics delve into emotional landscapes, reflecting on love, nature, and existential musings. The work is structured to showcase the author's best pieces, blending poetic expression with theatrical narrative, ultimately offering a rich tapestry of human experience and artistic exploration.

I hear the moaning rains beat on your rest
In the long nights of Winter and his wind—
And Death, the woeful, guilty of your fall,
Crying that he has sinned.


MAYA

(Hiroshima, Japan, 1905)

Pale sampans up the river glide
With set sails vanishing and slow;
In the blue west the mountains hide
As visions that too soon will go.
Across the rice-lands flooded deep
The peasant peacefully wades on—
As in unfurrowed vales of sleep,
A phantom out of voidness drawn.
Over the temple cawing flies
The crow with carrion in his beak.
Buddha within lifts not his eyes
In pity or reproval meek;
Nor, in the bamboos, where they bow
A respite from the blinding sun,
The old priest—dreaming painless how
Nirvana's calm will come when won.
"All is allusion, Maya, all
The world of will," the spent East seems
Whispering in me, "And the call
Of Life is but a call of dreams."


SPIRIT OF RAIN

(Miyanoshita, Japan, 1905)

Spirit of rain—
With all thy ghosts of mist about the mountain, lonely
As a gray train
Of souls newly discarnate seeking new life only!
Spirit of rain!
Leading them thro' dim torii, up fane-ways onward
Till not in vain
They tremble upon the peaks and plunge rejoicing dawnward.
Spirit of rain!
So would I lead my dead thoughts high and higher,
Till they regain
Birth and the beauty of a new life's fire.


THE NYMPH AND THE GOD

She lay by the river dead,
A broken reed in her hand,
The nymph whom an idle god had wed
And led from her maidenland.
The god was the great god, Jove.
Two notes would the bent reed blow,
The one was sorrow, the other love,
Enwove with a woman's woe.
She lay by the river dead,
And he at feasting forgot.
The gods, shall they be disquieted
By dread of a mortal's lot?


A SEA-GHOST

Oh, fisher-fleet, go in from the sea
And furl your wings.
The bay is gray with the twilit spray
And the loud surf springs.
The chill buoy-bell is rung by the hands
Of all the drowned,
Who know the woe of the wind and tow
Of the tides around.
Go in, go in! O haste from the sea,
And let them rest—
A son and one who was wed and one
Who went down unblest.
Aye, even as I whose hands at the bell
Now labour most.
The tomb has gloom, but O the doom
Of the drear sea-ghost!
He evermore must wander the ooze
Beneath the wave,
Forlorn—to warn of the tempest born,
And to save—to save!
Then go, go in! and leave us the sea,
For only so
Can peace release us and give us ease
Of our salty woe.


LAST SIGHT OF LAND

The clouds in woe hang far and dim:
I look again and lo
Only a faint and shadow line
Of shore—I watch it go.
The gulls have left the ship and wheel
Back to the cliff's gray wraith.
Will it be so of all our thoughts
When we set sail on Death?
And what will the last sight be of life
As lone we fare and fast?
Grief and the face we love in mist—
Then night and awe too vast?
Or the dear light of Hope—like that,
O see, from the lost shore
Kindling and calling "Onward, you
Shall reach the Evermore!"


SILENCE

Silence is song unheard,
Is beauty never born,
Is light forgotten—left unstirred
Upon Creation's morn.

DAVID

CHARACTERS

Saul King of Israel.
Jonathan Heir to the throne.
Ishui His brother.
Samuel The Prophet of Israel.
Abner Captain of the Host of Israel.
Doeg An Edomite; chief servant of Saul, and suitor for Michal.
Adriel A Lord of Meholah, suitor for Merab.
David A shepherd, secretly anointed King.
Abishai A follower of David.
Abiathar A priest and follower of David.
A Philistine Spy.
Ahinoam The Queen.
Merab Daughters of Saul and Ahinoam.
Michal
Miriam A blind prophetess, and later the "Witch of Endor."
Judith Timbrel-players of the King.
Leah
Zilla
Adah Handmaiden to Merab.
  A Chorus of Women. A Band of Priests. Followers of David. Soldiers of Saul. People of the Court, &c.

DAVID

ACT I

Scene: A Hall of Judgment in the palace of Saul at Gibeah. The walls and pillars of cedar are richly carven—with serpents, pomegranates, and cherubim in gold. The floors are of bright marble; the throne of ivory hung with a lion's skin whose head is its footstool. On the right, by the throne, and on the left are doors to other portions of the palace; they are draped with woven curtains of purple and white. In the rear, which is open and supported on pillars, a porch crosses a court. Through the porch, on the environing hills, glow the camp-fires of the Philistines, the enemies of Israel. Lamps in the Hall burn low, and on the floor Judith, Leah and Zilla are reclining restively.

Judith (springing to her feet impatiently). O for a feast, pomegranate wine and song!
Leah. Oh! Oh!
Zilla. A feast indeed! the men in camp!
When was a laugh or any leaping here?
Never; and none to charm with timbreling!

(She goes to the porch.)

Leah. What shall we do?
Judith. I'll dance.
Zilla. Until you're dead.
Judith. Or till a youth wed Zilla for her beauty?
I'll not soil mine with sullen fear all day
Because these Philistines press round. As well
Be wenches gathering grapes or wool! Come, Leah.

(She prepares to dance.)

Leah. No, Judith, I'll put henna on my nails,

(Sits down.)

And mend my anklet.
Zilla (at the curtains). Oh! Oh! Oh!
Judith. Now, hear her!
Who, who, now? who, who is it? dog, fox, devil?
Zilla. All!
Judith. Then 'tis Ishui! (Bounding to curtains.) Yes, Ishui!
And fury in him, sallow, souring fury!
A jackal were his mate! Come, come, we'll plague him.
Zilla. Shall we—with David whom he hates?
Judith. Aie, David!
The joy of rousing men to jealousy!
Leah. Why hates he David, Zilla?
Zilla. Stupid Leah!
Judith. Hush, hush, be meet and ready now; he's near.
Look as for silly visions and for dreams!

(They pose. Ishui entering sees them. Judith sighs.)

Ishui. Now, timbrel-gaud, why gape you here?
Judith. O! 'tis
Prince Ishui!
Zilla. Prince Ishui! Then he
Will tell us! he will tell us!
Leah. Yes!
Judith. Of David!
O, is he come? when, where?—quick, quick. And will
He pluck us ecstasies out of his harp,
Winning until we're wanton for him, mad,
And sigh and laugh and weep to the moon?
Ishui. Low thing!
Chaff of the king!
Judith. The king! I had not thought!
David a king! how beauteous would he be!
Ishui. David?
Judith. Turban of sapphire! robe of gold!
Ishui. A king? o'er Israel?
Judith. Who, who can tell?
Have you not heard? Yesterday in the camp,
Among war-old but fearful men, he offered
Kingly to meet Goliath—great Goliath!
Ishui. What do you say? to meet Goliath?
Judith (laughing in his face). Aie!

(Thrust from him, she goes, dancing with Zilla and Leah.)

Adriel (who has entered). Ishui, in a rage?
Ishui. Should I not be?
Adriel. Not would you be yourself.
Ishui. Not? (Deftly.) You say well.
I should not, no. Pardon then, Adriel.
Adriel. What was the offence?
Ishui. Turn from it: I have not
Bidden you here for vapours ... tho' they had
Substance as well for you!
Adriel. For me?
Ishui. Who likes
Laughter against him?
Adriel. I was laughed at?
Ishui. Why,
It is this shepherd!
Adriel. David?
Ishui. With his harp!
Flinging enchantment on the palace air
Till he impassions to him all who breathe.
Adriel. What sting from that? He's lovable and brave.
Ishui. Lovable? lovable?
Adriel. I do not see.
Ishui. This, then: you've hither come with gifts and gold,
Dream-bringing amethyst and weft of Ind,
To wed my sister, Merab?
Adriel. It is so.
Ishui. And you've the king's consent; but she denies?
Adriel. As every wind, you know it.
Ishui. Still denies!
And you, lost in the maze of her, fare on
Blindly and find no reason for it!
Adriel. How?
What reason can be? women are not clear;
And least unto themselves.
Ishui. Or to their fools.

(Goes to curtain, draws out Adah.)

Your mistress, Merab, girl, whom does she love?
Unclench your hands.
Adah. I hate her.
Ishui. Insolent!
Answer; I am not milky Jonathan,
Answer; and for the rest—You hear?
Adah. She loves—
The shepherd David!
Adriel. Who, girl?
Adah. I care not!
She is unkind; I will not spy for her
On Michal, and I'll tell her secrets all!
And David does not love her—and she raves.
Ishui. Off to your sleep; be off—

(Makes to strike her.)

Adriel. Ishui, no.

(Adah goes.)

Ishui (gnashingly). Then see you now how "lovable" he is?
I tell you that he stands athwart us all!
The heart of Merab swung as a censer to him,
My seat at table with the king usurped!
Mildew and mocking to the harp of Doeg
As it were any slave's; the while we all
Are lepered with suspicion.
Adriel. Of the king?
Ishui. Ah! and of Jonathan and Michal.
Adriel. Hush.

(Enter Michal, passing, with Miriam.)

Michal, delay. Whom lead you?
Michal. Miriam,
A prophetess.
Adriel. How of the king to-night?
Michal. He's not at rest; dreads Samuel's prophecy
The throne shall pass from him, and darkens more
Against this boundless Philistine Goliath
Who dares at Israel daily on the hills,
As we were dogs!
Adriel. Is David with him?
Michal. No;
But he is sent for—and will ease him—Ah!
He's wonderful to heal the king with his harp!
A waft, a sunny leap of melody,
And swift the hovering mad shadow's gone—
As magic!
Ishui. Michal.... Curst!
Michal. What anger's this?
Ishui. Disdaining Doeg and his plea to dust,
His waiting and the winning o'er of Edom,
You are enamoured of this David too?
Michal. I think my brother Ishui hath a fever.

(She goes, calmly, with Miriam.)

Ishui. Now are you kindled—are you quivering,
Or must this shepherd put upon us more?
Adriel. But has he not dealt honourably?
Ishui. No.
Adriel. Why do you urge it?
Ishui. Why have senses. He
With Samuel the prophet fast enshrouds
Some secret, and has Samuel not told
The kingdom from my father shall be rent
And fall unto one another?
Adriel. You are certain?
Ishui. As granite.

(Voices are heard in altercation.)

Yonder!
Adriel. The king?
Ishui. And Samuel
With prophecy or some refusal tears him!

(They step aside. Saul, followed by Samuel, strides in and mounts the throne.)

Saul. You threat, and ever thunder threatening!
Pour seething prophecy into my veins,
Till a simoon of madness in me moves.
Am I not king, the king? chosen and sealed?
Who've been anathema and have been bane
Unto the foes of Israel, and filled
The earth with death of them?
And do you still forbid that I bear gold
And bribe away this Philistine array
Folded about us, fettering with flame?
Samuel. Yes,—yes! While there is air—and awe of Heaven
Do I forbid! A champion must rise
To level this Goliath. Thus may we
Loose on them pest of panic and of fear.
Saul. Are forty days not dead? A champion!
None will arise—'tis vain. And I'll not wait
On miracle.
Samuel. Offer thy daughter, then,
Michal, thy fairest, to whoever shall.
Saul. Demand and drain for more! without an end.
Ever vexation! No; I will not.
Samuel. Then,
Out of Jehovah and a vast foreseen
I tell thee again, thou perilous proud king,
The sceptre shall slip from thee to another!

(He moves to go.)

Saul. The sceptre....
Samuel. To another!
Saul. From me! No!
You rouse afar the billowing of ill.
I grant—go not!—I grovel to your will,
Fear it and fawn as to omnipotence,

(Snatching at Samuel's mantle.)

And vow to all its divination—all!
Samuel. Then, Saul of Israel, the hour is near,
When shall arise one, and Goliath fall!

(Goes slowly out by the porch, Saul sinks back.)

Ishui (after a pause, keenly). Oh,—subtle!
Saul. Thus he sways me.
Ishui. Subtle!—subtle!
And yet I must not speak; come, Adriel,

(As if going.)

No use of us is here.
Saul. Use? subtle? Stand!
Ishui. No, father, no.
Saul. What mean you?
Ishui. Do not ask....
Yet how it creeps, and how!
Saul. Unveil your words.
Ishui. Do you not see it crawl, this serpent scheme?
Goliath slain—the people mad with praise,
Then fallen from you—Michal the victor's wife....
Saul. Say on, say on.
Ishui. Or else the champion slain—
Fear on the people—panic—the kingdom's ruin!
Saul. Now do the folds slip from me.
Ishui. And you see?
Ah, then, if one arise? If one arise?
Saul. Death, death! If he hath touched this prophet—if
Merely a little moment!—
Ishui. I have seen
Your David with him.
Saul. Death! if —— Come here: David?
Ishui. In secret.
Saul. Say you?
Ishui. Yes.
Saul. The folds slip further;
To this you lead me—hatred against David!
To this with supple envy's easy glide!
Ishui. I have but told——
Saul. You have but builded lies,
As ever you are building and for ever.
I'll hear no more against him—Abner!—no.

(To Abner, who enters.)

David, and with his harp.
Abner. My lord——
Saul. Not come?
He is not come? Forever he delays!

(Remounts throne.)

Abner. Time's yet to pass.
Saul. There is not. Am I king?

(A harp is heard.)

See you, 'tis he!... 'Tis David!... And he sings!
David (bravely, within).
Smiter of Hosts,
Terrible Saul!
Vile on the hills shall he laugh who boasts
None is among
Great Israel's all
Fearless for Saul, King Saul!

(Entering with people of the palace.)

Aye, is there none
Galled of the sting,
Will at the soul of Goliath run?
Wring it and up
To his false gods fling?...
None for the king, the king?

(He drops to his knee, amid praise, before the throne.)

Saul (darkening). Forego this praise and stand
Away from him; 'tis overmuch.
(To David.) Why have
You dallied and delayed?
David. My lord, delayed?
Saul. Do not smile wonder, mocking!
David. Why, my lord,
I do not mock. Only the birds have wings.
Yet on the vales behind me I have left
Haste and a swirl, a wonderment of air,
And in the torrent's troubled vein amaze,
So swift I hurried hither at your urgence
Out of the fields and folding the far sheep!
Saul. You have not; you have dallied. (Motions rest out.) You have dallied.

(Comes down indeterminately.)

And now——
David. And now the king with darkness foams,
With sheeted passions like to lightning gusts.

(All have gone.)

Shall I not play to him?
Saul. You shall not, no.

(Slowly draws a dagger.)

I'll not be lulled.
David. But show a tiger gleam?
Terrible fury stealing from the heart
And crouching cold within the eye, O Saul?
Saul. I'll not endure. They say that you——
David. They say?
What is this ravage in you? Does the truth
So limpid overflow in palaces?
Never an enemy to venom it?
Am I not David, faithful, and thy friend?
Saul. I'll slay you and regretless.
David (unmoving). Slay, my lord?
Saul. Do you not fear? And brave me to my breast?
David. Have I done wrong that I should fear the king?
Reed as I am, could he not breathe and break?
And I should be oblivion at a word!
But under the terror of his might have I
Not seen his heart beat justice and beat love?
See, even now!...
Saul. I will not listen to them!
David. To whom, my lord, and what?
Saul. Ever they say,
"This David," and "This David!"
David. Ah, my harp!
Saul. But think you, David, I shall lose the kingdom?
David (starting). My lord!...
Saul. Pain in your eyes? you think it? Deem
I cannot overleap this destiny?
David. To that let us not verge; it has but ill.
Deeper the future gulf is for our fears.
Forget it. Forget the brink may ever gape,
And wield the throne so well that God Himself
Must not unking you, more than He would cry
The morning star from Heaven! Then, I swear it,
None else will!
Saul. Swear?
David. Nay, nay!
Saul. You swear?
David. But words,
Foolishly from the heart; a shepherd speech!
Give them no mood; but see, see yonder fires
Camping upon the peace of Israel,
As we were carrion beneath the sun!
Let us conceive annihilation on them,
Hurricane rush and deluging and ruin.
Saul. Ah, but the prophecy! the prophecy!
It eats in me the food of rest and ease.
And David, nearer: Samuel in my stead
Another hath anointed.
David. Saul, not this!
This should not fall to me, my lord; no more!
You cannot understand; it pains beyond
All duty and enduring!
Saul. Pains beyond...?
Who is he? know you of him? do you? know you?
You sup the confidence of Samuel?
I'll search from Nile to Nineveh——
David. My lord!
Saul. Mountain and desert, wilderness and sea,
Under and over, search—and find.
David. Peace, peace!

(Enter Michal joyously.)

Michal. O father, father! David! Listen!... Why
All here is dark and quivering as pain,
And a foreboding binds me ere I breathe!
David, you have not been as sun to him!
David. But Michal will be now.
Saul. Child, well, what then?
Michal. Father, a secret! Oh, and it will make
Dawn and delight in you!
Saul. Perhaps; then, well?
Michal. Oh, I have heard...!
Saul. Have heard!—Why do you pale?

(She stands unaccountably moved.)

Now are you Baal-bit?
David. Michal!
Michal (in terror). David!... the dread
What does it mean? I cannot speak! It shrinks
Shivering down upon my heart in awe!
David. And numbs you so?—Let it rush from your lips!
Can any moving in the world so bring
Terror upon you! Speak, what is it?
Michal. Ah!
I know not; danger rising and its wing
Sudden against my lips!
David. To warn?
Michal. It shall not!
There—now again flows joy: I think it flows.
Saul. Then—you have heard...?
Michal. Yes, father, yes! Have you
Not much desired discovery of whom
Samuel hath anointed?
Saul. Well?
Michal. I've found——

(David blenches.)

Almost have found! A prophetess to-day
Hath told me that he is a——

(Realises.)

Saul. Now you cease?

(She stands horrified.)