ACT · III
ALMEH.
O delicate air, inviting
The birth of the sun, to fire
The heavy glooms of the sea with silver laughter:
Ye sleepy flowers, that tire
In melting dreams of the day,
To splendour disregardful, with sloth awaking;
1000Rejoice, rejoice, alway;
But why are ye taking
My soul to follow you after,
To awake with you, and be joyful in your delighting?
Ay me!
Enter Zapel from the garden, with a basket of flowers.
ZAPEL.
Here are thy lilies.
Al.’Tis enough of these;
I thank thee, Zapel. Now there grows a flower
Wild 'neath the castle walls, a yellow rose
It seems, of stubborn habit, branching low;
When walking on the ramparts I have seen it,
1010 And wondered whence it drew its sustenance,
In scattered tufts upon the waste sea sand;
Go to the gate, and say I sent thee forth;
And pluck me blooms, and a young stem of it
That I may plant at home: if it should thrive,
It shall be proud I ever looked upon it.
Why dost thou laugh? Didst thou not hearken, girl?
Za. I heard thee well: Go forth, Zapel, thou saidst;
Go where thou wilt, so thou return not soon.
Now is the hour prince Ferdinand should come:
Lovers would be alone.
1020
Al.Be sure of this;
’Tis my sole comfort to be rid of thee;
And when we are back in Fez, I will bestow thee
Upon another mistress.
Za.If ’tis Fez,
I care not. I’ll commend me to the queen
That shall be of Morocco ... why, thou goest
The way to spoil thy fortunes, and dost shame
The suit of a most high and worthy prince
By favouring the Christian.
Al.Favouring
Dar’st thou to say?
Za.I say but what I see.
1030
And if thou dost not love his flatteries,
How is it that thou art found so oft alone
Where he must walk? that now these three days past
At break of dawn, ere thou wast used to stir
Thou must go forth, because the moon is bright,
Or dwindling stars should be beheld, or flowers
Gathered in dew; and I, who must be roused
To bear thee company, am in haste dismissed,
1039 Or sent on useless errands, while the prince
Steals in my place? If I should say ’twas love....
Al. Folly! what folly in thee. And if ’twere true,
Should I need thee to tell me?
Go fetch my yellow roses.
Za.And in time:
See here he comes.
Al.Begone.
Za.Ay, I must go.
(Aside.) But I can send another.[Exit.
Al. What is it I resent? that others see us
Is our life’s evidence: loving as being
Needs this conviction.
Enter Ferdinand.
FERDINAND.
Al.Didst thou think
1050 I should play truant like an idle child,
Who when the clock has struck cannot be found,
And must be dragged to school?
Fer.O nay. But in this world,
Where all things move outside our reckoning,
To find the least desire hath come to pass
Will seem a miracle.
Al.What is thy desire?
What is the miracle?
Fer.O beauteous Almeh!
If I might call thee Christian!
Al.Nay, I know not:
But what I have learned makes me desire the name.
Fer. Now is the purpose of my expedition
1060 Revealed: for this I sailed to Africa:
For this I was defeated, and for this
Brought captive here. ’Tis thou that art my prize.
Al. ’Twere a poor prize for so much war: but tell me,
How came it thou’rt a soldier?
Fer.Thou hast thought
My failure shames that title?
Al.Nay, I ask
How, being a Christian, thou professest arms.
Why hast thou come against us, with no plea
Save thy religion, and that happy gospel
Thou hast trampled on in coming, Peace on earth?
1070
Fer. Too late to ask. When conscience, like an angel,
Stood in the way to bar my setting forth,
Zeal and ambition blinded me; tho’yet
Against the voice of them that urged me on
There lacked not prodigies of heaven to stay me.
For as we sailed from Lisbon, all the host
That lined the shore with banners and gay music,
Was changed before my eyes to funeral trains
Of black and weeping mourners, who with wails
And screams affrighted us. The sun in heaven
1080 Turned to blood-red, and doleful mists of grey
Shut us in darkness, while the sucking ebb
Dragged us to doom. And here now that I stand
In the rebuke of judgment, I have no plea
Save that I suffer: unless thou be found
My unsought prize.
Al.Thou missest the conclusion,
Considering but thyself, not those thou hast wronged.
Thou must surrender Ceuta: ’tis a debt
To justice and to peace: my father’s honour.
Thy duty towards thy wretched countrymen,
1090And thine own freedom—
Al. Were thy words true, my words were not in vain.
Fer. Lady, were Ceuta mine, had my sword won it,
Thy words might move, though not thy father’s threats.
Al. I hear the gate: some one comes forth. I pray
Retire, ere we be seen.[Exeunt R.
Enter Sala and Tarudante.
SALA.
I owe him life, your highness, and would stake it
A thousand times upon his princely worth.
As are his manners, you shall find his honour.
I will go fetch him.
TARUDANTE.
1100
Stay, I understand
Something, and know that now he is in the grounds
With the princess alone. Go if thou wilt.
Assure thyself: I need to see no more.
Sa. Await me here then while I go. I pray thee
Judge not so hastily.
Tar.I judge not hastily.
Sa. Then wait me here.
Sa.You have rather set us
In everlasting debt.
Tar.Speak not of that.
1110
Sa. Then mock not our repayment.
Tar.Look you, Sala;
I understand to seize a prize by force,
Or kindly take a gift, but not to sue.
Sa. Yet women must be wooed.
Tar.Ay, that’s a game:
But if ’tis more than play, I’ve no mind for it.
Patch up the matter as you can. For me,
I cry To horse.
Sa.Wait but a moment longer;
I will fetch Ferdinand. (Aside.) To have two rivals,
Tho’both be princes, may be better yet
Than to have only one. [Exit.
Tar. By heaven, they trifle with me, and by waiting
1121 I allow it; cherishing an idle softness
That fools me to take slights, yet cannot soothe
My pride to competition. Nay, nor would I
Rob grey-haired Sala of it, if he has dreamed
His heirs shall reign in Fez.... But the infidel—
How should the general countenance him,—altho’
There be some tie of chivalry between them?
A riddle it is; a riddle I leave it. Now
To save engagèd honour I must feign
1130 Some exigency. I will go warn my men
That they break camp at sunrise. In three days
All is forgotten. [Exit.
Re-enter Sala with Ferdinand.
Fer.He is not here.
Sa.’Tis well.
Fer. What wouldst thou, Sala?
Sa.For thy safety, prince,
And for my honour both, accept the terms,
And go hence while thou mayst.
Fer.Now spare thy words;
For I am firm.
Sa.Then if thou close the door,
Thou must o’erleap the wall.
Fer.What mean’st thou?
Sa.Fly.
Feign sickness. I will let thee forth to-night.
1139 Thou shalt be safe beyond pursuit to-morrow,
While yet ’tis thought thou keep’st thy chamber.
Fer.Nay.
Sa. As men will risk their lives to save their lives,
Risk thou thine honour now to save thine honour,—
Ay, and thy life. ’Tis looked for of no man
To make his tongue his executioner;
Nor any hath this right, to bind his brother
To die when it shall please him.
Fer.O honest Sala,
We wrong thee much in Spain: there art thou deemed
A heartless soldier; not a bloody tale
That would pass current, but usurps thy name:
Men curse by thee.
1150
Sa.I pray you now return,
And disabuse your friends.
Fer.Ay, that and more
When I return.
Sa.Thou never wilt return,
Unless thou fly at once.
Fer.Tell me the worst.
Sa. What think you, should I slay you with these hands?
Fer. Thou, Sala! why?
Sa.I spake not empty words.
Fer. Their darkness is to me as emptiness.
Sa. By heaven, I would not now unseal my lips,
But I know him I speak to, and my speech
Shall win thee. Hark, I have been for twenty years
1160 Familiar with the king, one of his house;
I have known the princess Almeh from her cradle:
Her father’s only child, she hath been to me
My single joy no less: from the first words
She lisped upon my knee, unto this day,
Her sayings and doings have been still the events
Which measured time to me: her childish ways,
Her growth, well-being, happiness, were mine,
Part of my life. Whene’er I have been away
On distant service, the same couriers
1170 That carried my despatches to the king,
Returned to me with tidings of the child,
Writ for my use, the careful chronicle
Of prattle, with whatever pretty message
She had devised to send me: as she grew
I watched her, taught her, was her friend; and while
I trod in blood, and heard the mortal gasp
Of foes my scimitar struck down to hell,
I suffered nothing to approach my soul
But what might too be hers. Sala is stern,
1180 Men say, and register my actions bluntly
To common qualities,—I serve my age
In such a tedious practice,—but in truth
Sala is gentle as the tend’rest plant
That noonday withers, or the night frosts pinch.
I tell thee what I would not dare tell any,
Lest he should smile at me, and I should slay him:
I tell it thee, knowing thou wilt not smile.
Now late it happed that I returned to Fez
After some longer absence than was wont;
1190
I found her not. She had made a dizzy flight
From prettiest to fairest. Slow-working time
Had leapt in a miracle: ere one could say,
From being a child suddenly she was a woman,
Changed beyond hope, to me past hope unchanged.
Maybe thou hast never tasted, prince, this sorrow,
When fortune smiling upon those we love
Removes them from our reach—when we awake
To our small reckoning in the circumstance
1200We are grown to lean on.—Cursèd be the day
Whereon we met: or would thou hadst slain me there—
My wrongs are worse than death.
Fer.How! can it be?
Tell me but truth. Art thou my rival, Sala?
Thou art: thou art. Yet ’twas thyself deceived me.
Thou’st ever spoken of her as of a daughter.
Forgive me, Sala; thy familiarity
And thy years blinded me. If, ere I came
Her heart was thine, and I by pity’s softness
Have stolen the passion that was thine before,
1210 Now by mine honour I will do thy bidding:
If ’tis the only way, I’ll fly to-night.
Thy word, and I will fly. Were ye betrothed?
Sa. Nay, prince ...
Fer.Nay?... Yet if not betrothed, maybe
Almeh hath loved thee, shewn thee preference,
Some promise ...
Sa.Nay.
Fer.Then, Sala, in plain words,
How have I wronged thee? what can be the cause
Why thou didst threat to kill me?
Sa.I said not that.
Fer. Esteem’st thou then a prince of Portugal
So much less than Morocco? ...
Sa.Dream’st thou the king
Would wed his daughter to ...
1220
Fer.An infidel,
Thou’dst say.
Sa.Is’t not impossible?
Fer.’Twould seem
No miracle to me shouldst thou thyself
Turn Christian.
Sa.By Allah! Hush! here is the king. Begone,
Lest my goodwill to thee be more suspected
Than it deserve.
Fer.I’ll speak with thee again.[Exit.
Sa. (solus). I have shot my best bolt forth, and missed my aim.
KING.
Sala, what dost thou here? I sent for thee.
Sa. No message, sire, hath reached me.
K.I am come myself
To find thee; I need thy counsel, and I desire
1230 Thou wilt put off the manner of advisers,
Who affect disapprobation of whatever
Is done without their sanction; in which humour
Thou hast looked grudgingly upon the marriage
’Twixt Almeh and Morocco.
Sa.My dislike
Hath better ground.
K.Whate’er it be, I bid thee
Put thy dislike aside: the business threatens
To fail without our aid.
Sa.How so?
K.The prince
Hath been with us five days: ’tis now full time
He spoke his mind; and yet he hath said no word.
1240
Sa. Well, sire?
K.The cause: I’ll tell thee first my thoughts.
Sa. The fancy of a maid is as the air—
Light, uncontrollable.
K.What dream is this?
’Tis not her liking that I count. The day
That Tarudante asks her she is his:
’Tis that he doth not ask.—I have myself perceived
A melancholy habit that hath come
Upon my daughter of late, and grows apace.
I thought awhile ’twas love, but now I fear
’Tis a deep disaffection: such behaviour,
1250 So foreign to her years, might well repel
So fine a lover.
Sa.That is not the cause.
K. I say it is. I have watched her with the prince
Now for two days, and marked in her behaviour
Indifference and abstraction.
Sa.And if ’tis so?
K. Find some device to drive these humours off.
Did I but know, could we discover, Sala,
What lies the nearest to her heart, a prompt
And unforeseen indulgence would restore
Her spirit to cheerfulness.
Sa. (aside).Now here is hope.
1260 If I could work him to my purpose now.
K. What say’st thou?
Sa.Sire, the sufferings of the captives
First hurt your daughter’s spirit. Would you heal it,
Release them.
K.Eh! Wellah! I think thou’rt right.
Twice hath she knelt before me for these men:
I had never thought of it.
Sa. (aside).Heaven give my tongue
Persuasion.
K.I’ll do it, Sala: ’tis worth the price.
Sa. There is yet one captive whom you cannot free.
K. Who’s he?
Sa.The prince.
K.He counts not with the rest.
Sa. Nay, since his wrong and claim stand above all.
K. Thou art pleading for thyself, Sala: thou knowest
I hold the prince for Ceuta.
1271
Sa.So, sire; for never
Will you hold Ceuta for the prince. You asked
My advice: you have it. Where my honour weighed not,
Nor my long service finds me any favour,
Suspect not I would use a lady’s tears:
Tho’true it be, the grief that Almeh felt
Hath been tenfold increased, since the good prince
Who gave me life was asked to buy his own.
K. But if I free the rest and keep the prince?
1280
Sa. A stinted favour brings no gladness. Yet
You could not more, you cannot, nay you are pledged.
K. Hark, Sala: I care not if he live or die.
Did I not offer him his liberty
On a condition? Since to win Morocco
Is to have Ceuta, I may change my terms,
And use him for that purpose, tho’it stand
One remove from my object: and I see
How I can make a bargain. Fetch my daughter,
For the same day she marries Tarudante
1290 The prince and all the captives shall be hers:
And she shall know it. Send her hither.
Sa.I go.
(Aside.) Yet the condition mars the gift for all.
[Exit Sala.
K. Nay, he shall not dissuade me. ’Twas good counsel
Slipped from him unawares; and tho’I swore
To keep the prince till he surrendered Ceuta,
That oath turned ’gainst myself I will cast o’er,
Making his liberty my tool; and what
Self-interest persuades I’ll do with grace.—
That men are strong or weak, foolish or wise,
1300 According to the judgment of their fellows,
Is doctrine for the multitude. For me
I would possess my wisdom as my health,
In verity, not semblance.
Re-enter Almeh.
Al. My father sent for me?
Al.Good news?
K.Thou shalt say good.
Guess.
Al. There hath something happened?
K.Something shall be.
Al. Is it peace with Portugal?
K.Nay, not so far.
Al. Tell me.
K.The Christian captives.
Al.Dare I guess
They may go free?
K.’Tis that.
Al.O kindest father,
Thou healest my heart, that hath the chief enlargement
1311 In this deliverance. If they know it not,
May I go tell them?
K.Stay. There’s one condition.
It lies with thee to fix the day.
Al.With me?
I say to-day.
K.Thou canst not say to-day.
Al. How soon?
Al.Ah!
K.The smile that came
So quickly to thy face hath fled again.
Is the condition hard?
Al.’Tis like denial.
K. Denial!
1320
Al.To do the thing I never wished,
And if I wished lies not in me to do.
K. Thou dost not wish, sayst thou? It lies not in thee?
Al. ’Tis true I do not wish this marriage, sire.
K. Well, well. To wish to leave thy home and me
Were undesired: but to obey my will,
To trust thy welfare to my guidance, girl;
Not to oppose my dictates....
Al.Truly, father,
I have found as little occasion to oppose,
1329 As I have power to stand against thy will.
K. I know it, child: but for that hold thee to blame:
Thou hast not wished: ’tis in thy power to wish.
Marriage thou dost not wish: but thou must wish
What is my will; which to make more thine own
I add this boon. Was’t not thy chief desire?
Dost thou not thank me?
Al.Alas....
Al. Tell me, sire; with the captives dost thou reckon
Prince Ferdinand of Portugal?
K.I knew
Thou wouldst ask this, and am content to grant it.
1340 See how I yield. I will go fetch thy lover:
Be ready to receive him: what thou dost
Ruleth his happiness as well as mine,
And theirs whose life I give thee. Await him here.
[Going.
Al. Stay, father, stay!
K.Well, child!
Al. (aside).It cannot be:
I dare not tell—
K.What wouldst thou say?
Al.I know not.
I have not well understood; not yet considered.
K. What is there to consider?
Al.Dost thou promise
The Christian captives and prince Ferdinand
Shall all, the day I am married, be set free?
K. I do.
1350
Al.And if I marry not Morocco,
What is their fate?
Al.O sire, the prince
Spared Sala’s life: thou owest as much to him:
Thou mayst not kill him.
K.See, if that’s a scruple,
How thou mayst gratify thyself and Sala.
I put this in thy power. Canst not thou thank me,
And smile on Tarudante?
Al.I thank thee, sire.
If I seemed not to thank thee, ’twas the effect
Of suddenness, nothing but suddenness.
I am glad to do it.
1360
K.I knew thou wouldst be glad.
I shall go fetch thy lover. I shall not grudge
These hogs for him. [Exit.
Al.Death, said he? He would slay him!
My gentlest prince! O bloody spirit of war,
That hast no ear where any pitiful plea
Might dare to knock.—Alas, my dismal blindness!
I am but as others are, selfish, O selfish,
That thought myself in converse with the skies;
So shamed, so small in spirit. What is my love,
My yesterday’s desire, but death to him?
1370 And what to me? What but an empty fancy
Nursed against reason? which I cling to now
In spite of duty. Duty ... Ah, I remember
I had a childish fondness for that name,
Dreamed I would serve God willingly. But now,
Now ’tis impossible.... Now if I serve,
I do his bidding with unwilling will;
Yet must I do it.