The Mortal Gods, and Other Plays

Ber. [Taking up a flower] Eternity in this?

[Ardia enters. He does not see her until she speaks]

Ard. Prince Bertrand?

Ber. [Rising] You?
Not Berenice!

Ard. Ah ... you wait for her?

Ber. Who brought you here?

Ard. The earl. Your father.

Ber. He!
What said he?

Ard. That you prayed to see me, sir.

Ber. O, faithless! He deceived you.

Ard. I will go.

Ber. Stay—tell me—how you fare.

Ard. Nay, you await
The princess.

Ber. You've all comfort? No least lack?

Ard. I've food and bed, but little company.

Ber. My father's plans press hard, and I'm a part
Of them. Each hour he calls me.

Ard. I know, my lord,
This is not Kidmir. I've my father too.
You've yours ... and Berenice.

Ber. Nay, it seems
Fate hath her changelings. You have come, not she.

Ard. I sought no meeting, sir, but being here,
I'll ask you of my father. Is he safe?
Earl Oswald means no treachery to his guest?

Ber. At sunrise he will drink the cup of peace.

Ard. That's hours away! He knows your life is pledged
For Charilus' safety?

Ber. No. I will not wake
A doubt against his honor.

Ard. He should know.
I've seen his eyes. Good hap, you have your mother's.

Ber. If he be vile as you so fear he is,
My pledge would be no leash to his hold will.
He'd chain me here till he destroyed your brothers.
Let him know naught, I'm free to keep my oath.
But this should not be spoken. We do wrong
To talk of things that have no being save
In our own midnight fears.

Ard. Well, I shall sleep.
Good-night, my lord.

Ber. Am I not Vairdelan?

Ard. Ay, when you smile so.
[Holds out her hands, and drops them untouched]
Far, O far from Kidmir!

Ber. Yea, an eternal journey my lost soul
May find it. Ardia, counsel me. Two ways
Stretch long before me, and I faint
In daring either. Give me of your strength.

Ard. My strength? I have none.

Ber. You have God's.
Men, proud in valor, stray and lose his hand;
The woman holds it ever, walking floods
And trampling fire where men go down.

Ard. Tell me!
How may I help you?

Ber. Sit then. I will speak.
[She sits; He stands near her]
I have agreed to be the sovereign
Of sword-won Suli.

Ard. None will better serve
Where he is master. O, this spear-torn land
Shall flower to heaven and mate her bloom with stars!

Ber. A bloom that dies with me?

Ard. Death cannot make
The spirit barren.

Ber. [At distance] Through me my father hopes
To found a princely house o'er-topping Asia
With Christ-lit towers.

Ard. Oh!... Then you will wed.

Ber. [His eyes down] My bride is chosen.

Ard. [Rising] Chosen? [Sits again]
Nay.... I know....

Ber. [Returning] Your hidden eyes hide not the loathing there
For me forsworn. Why have I troubled you?
Look on me, Ardia. I am not yet fallen.
I take your answer. You have chosen my way,
And I set forth upon it—not forsworn.

Ard. That word is naught. I do not think of it.

Ber. Must man not keep his pledge?

Ard. To mortals, yes.
For so our lives are knit, and part to part
Keep sound and whole. But pledges unto God
Man cannot make or keep till he may bind
The Will that journeys with the launchèd world.
So might His rivers say "Here will we rest,
And worship thee," nor run into the sea,
And God must be content though all his fields
Burn waterless. So might the winds vow Him
Unbroken calm, and God who needs his storms
Must still his own desire while his dear earth
Goes pestilent.

Ber. Unsentient things! He shares
His will with man.

Ard. But not to enslave his own.
Christ seals no bond the lips lay on the soul
That is each instant new as life, as change,
As the importuning world. Ah, he who sells
To one hour's narrow need the zenith light
Of unborn days would snuff out time and know
No rising sun. Himself would be a slavedom
Where never Christ would walk.

Ber. Is 't Ardia speaks?

Ard. Truth speaks, not I. If man must vow,
Let it not be to love no woman,—wear
The vest of fire, and in a sunless cell
Chain Heaven-arteried life,—then peering out,
Cling to the nested eaves transfixed to see
His fled desires wear the horizon flame.
But let him vow his Christ shall shrink no vein
Of broad and pauseless being; ay,—shall keep
Sweet surgence with his blood, climb with his spirit
Time's lifting hills, and hold in watch with him
The unshrouding pinnacles where love puts off
The old clouds for the dawn. Forsworn? O, heart
Cell-bound, thy very vows deny thy Christ.
Who serve him wear no chains.

Ber. You think me true?
And yet I felt your wounded, doubting eyes
Raining me scorn. Why was it, Ardia?

Ard. Scorn?
I have forgot why 'twas—or shall forget.

Ber. And there was pity too, that dropped your lids.
And would have sheltered me. Is that forgot?

Ard. Nay, that.... I'll tell you that. I thought of Love,
Man's angel, and the heart-lone way of him
Who missed and found her not. Never to take
More courage from the fall of her sure feet
On heights that wind between death and the stars;
Or where his road burns through the shadeless sands,
Reach for the hand with fountains in its touch
And feel the palm-breath round him. Not to know
Her eyes when night is come, and there's no star;
Her breast, that pillowing the darkened waste,
Keeps warm the bitten earth and gives him dream
To meet and match the dawn. So wept my thoughts,
Forgetting that you are no wanderer,
But kingly housed will rule a tamèd realm.
Or should a harvest come of spears, not grain,
Yet is your princess brave and beautiful,
And bears, may be, a mating heart. Love then
Will come to you——

Ber. My princess?

Ard. Berenice.
Your father's choice ... and yours.

Ber. My Ardia! Mine!
Could such a lie creep to your soul and find
No lances at the door? [Kneels, kissing her hands]
My love, my love, my love!
Let honors fail, and stars forget my name,
'Tis thou shalt walk beside me, thou my chosen!
I'll hear thy footfall on the winter steep,
And take thy hand where desert noons are white,
But close thy breast shall lie upon my heart,
Nor pillow the bitten waste, my own, my own!
[She moves from him. He rises]
Why are you silent, pale, and heaven-still?

Ard. I must be still. I've mourned my heart-walls thin.
This joy will break them. Joy to hear your voice
With love's mate-music in it cry to me.
My joy! I'll drink it all, nor lose one drop,
For I shall have no more.

Ber. No more? No less
Than life can hold!

Ard. Hear me, my lord.

Ber. You love me!

Ard. I shall not be your wife.

Ber. You're mine—all mine!

Ard. You hold your vow yet sacred, breaking it
By the sole might of love. You do not feel
The vision round you in whose light that vow
Falls like a grave-cloth from an angel's limbs.
Ah, Christ would be no bridal guest of ours,
Shut out by your heart's fear.
  [He stands as if stricken]
You see 'tis true.
You listen for his sanction, and you hear
The ring of your own vow.
[He sits bowed]
You hear it now
Above your passion's chime. 'Twill fill the air
When love's mad bells grow quiet, and your soul
Asks the old question. Let me then be far
From thee, nor stay to be a claspèd fire
Eating thy side.

Ber. You'll heal me of my fear.
[Reaching his hands to her]
My fountain and my palm!

Ard. Your doubt would stir
Beneath your tenderest deep. My nearing step
Would as a trumpet start its buried storm
To sweep our meeting eyes.

Ber. If Christ would give
A sign,—leave me no choice,—no other way

Ard. The torch of Fate but blinds us when the heart
Beareth no light.

Ber. Not Fate, but Heaven—there
I'd read my sign.

Ard. Hope not, my lord, that Heaven
Will drive me to your arms. Farewell.

Ber. No, no!
To keep you I'll dare hell——

Ard. Dare hell? My love
Walks not that fiery verge, but waits thine own
In regions nearer God. There we shall meet,
And there will be no hell.
[Turns to go, but is drawn back by his grief]
  Thou art a prince
Of Christ. Arise and rule this land for him.
There is no sin in you. You've kissed my hands,
And they are bright as stars!

Ber. O, can you go?
You do not love me. In your breast are wings—
No heart, but wings that seek the mountain sky.
Go perch above me, leave me dying here.
And cool your bosom with a virgin song
To mateless heaven!

Ard. Who is cruel now?
You have the world to feed on, need not eat
Your heart as I must—I, the woman. Dear,
Where Kidmir cliffs climb highest to the sky
I'll keep my watch, but thou shall rise above me
In thought of men. O'er all discerning shall
Thy purpose wing, perhaps be drunk of clouds,
But light shall follow where thine aim has sped,
And leading upward with your comrade world,
My Kidmir shall seem lowly, where I walk
With stintless ache beneath the cedar boughs
On pain's moon nights. And oh, the Springs to pass,
When each bride-bud shall be a wound to me,
When grasses young, and softly pushing moss,
Shall urge my feet like fire, and I must stand
Quite still ... quite still ... with all my unborn babes
Dead in my heart.

Ber. [Motionless] You dare not leave me now.
You dare not, Ardia.

Ard. I dare not stay.

[As she nears the great doors they rumble shut and are noisily barred without]

Ard. Ho! Open, open, open! I pray you, open!
[Beats on door, then leans to the silence]
Shut in ... shut in! So Oswald's treachery
Begins with me. My father, we are lost.
You are to die, and I—to-morrow, oh,
My honor will go wasting on the fields
With every soldier's breath! You hear, my lord?
We are shut in....

Ber. The miracle!

Ard. Together....

Ber. The sign! the sign!

Ard. For all the night....

Ber. For all
Eternity! There is no other way.
I take you as from Christ. My bride, my bride!

[Curtain]

Scene 2. The same. Gray of morning seen through grating of window, rear, where Bertrand stands looking out and upward. Ardia is sleeping on a couch. The dawn-light wakes her and she starts up.

Ard. 'Tis morning. Bertrand! You have watched all night?

Ber. O, there has been no night.

Ard. I slept it through.

Ber. Thy body slept, but thou hast been with me
O'er all the world, and farther than the world,
Out where the life begins.

Ard. That may be true,
For I had wondrous dreams.

Ber. You speak of dreams?
A magic touched me, and I woke from dream
Knowing my life. What ways we went! All things
Seemed new, warm with the Maker's hand, as young
As our own eyes, but 'twas eternity
That kept them sweet, unaging.

Ard. It was Love
Who gave thee eyes to see the world immortal
Even in our own.

Ber. Do all Love's votaries
Walk with such magic sight?

Ard. In truth! I've seen
A beggar woman tread the road-side dust
As it were showered gold, because she had
Love's eyes. And we—what joys our joy shall find!
The pearling skies with rose-breath drinking ours
'Tween sea and dawn! The leaves that turn i' the wind
And tremble in our hearts—the brook-song that
Began beyond the stars—the woodland nests,
Breast-warm——

Ber. And one is ours.

Ard. The lark that leaves
His meadow-mate and reels at the sun's door
Dropping his song of fire and clover-dew
Down to her heart.

Ber. [Kissing her] As this in thine!

Ard. And all
Life's dearer-veinèd joys,—the way-side hands
That pluck to camp-fire glow,—the smile of age,
Gift-sweet and wise beside the garner door——

Ber. Ay, dear are these ... but when we came again
From that far, holy place....

Ard. Ah, in your dream.

Ber. Where no words go or come....

Ard. When we came back?

Ber. Walking the light between the parted stars,
And met the days that knew us ... naught could hide
The eternal joy within it. Twas a world
Whose beauty lay allwheres. O, not alone
In morning skies and mated larks a-wing!
Each rag-hung thing was dipped in chosen time
And wore its royal hour.

Ard. If that could be!

Ber. What seers, what eyes of light, outshone the pain
That gave them being! Tears that silvered graves
Globed in their pearl the immortal hope of men,
And seemed as beautiful as prophecy
Burning in its own truth. Ay, where a man
Fell murdered, crying "I forgive," the ground
Sprang as a garden——

Ard. Murdered? O, not that!
How could you say it? I had forgot, forgot!
Love in your dream looked you quite through the soul
Of Time on things to be? What saw you then?
Ah, tell me!

Ber.      Then?... Then came this dimmer light
Which you called morning, and I saw no more.

Ard. I would I knew!

Ber. You fear even now?

Ard. O, me!

Ber. Sweet, leave these shadows—dreams of ancient night
That cling too late upon a day-warm world.
Must I persuade you still that Oswald means
Our happiness?

Ard. Hark you! They come, my lord.

Ber. The sunrise feast. Fit place and time to break
The fast of love.

Ard. O, hear! So many feet!

Ber. Dear trembler, do not fear.

Ard. They're here, my lord.

Ber. Welcome the world. It has no eye can make
Our own seek earth.

[Doors open. Enter Frederick, Oswald, Charilus, Berenice, with lords and ladies attending. Servants follow bearing trays, and lay the table. Ardia hastens to her father and they talk apart. Oswald advances to Bertrand, right, the others lingering left]

Osw. I am forgiven?

Ber. Forgiven!
Ask God and Love! I'll thank you all my life
That you did force me take my only way
To Heaven.

Osw. Hmm! And I spent a bitter night
Fearing your morning face.

Ber. It was my soul's
Birth-night.

Osw. God bless me, you are grateful, sir.
But you've good reason. [Looks at Ardia] I had no such mate
To make the dark hours fly.

Ber. Pray speak to her.

Osw. In my good time.

Ber. Nay, now!

Osw. The day is long.
I shall be gentle, for I owe her much
Who gives me back my son. Come to our guests.

Ber. Does Frederick——

Osw. Ay, he knows all, and bears
No grudge.

Ber. Knows all?

Osw. He clapped my plot as though
His own thick noll had hatched it.

Ber. And the princess——

Osw. You see her smile? There's answer for you.
  Come!
No blush! Put on a face. Your bridal news
Shall sauce our banquet.

[They move to guests]

Fred. [To Bertrand] Greet you, sir! But why
So pale, my lord? I fear me you have spent
A sleepless night.

Ber. Ay, as the stars.

A Lord. The stars?
He winked then, by the rood!

Ber. What do you say?

Lord. I say the stars do wink, most gracious prince.

Osw. Come, find your seats, my friends! Yet two of us,
Lord Charilus and my unworthy self
Must keep our feet till we have drunk the wine
Made sacrosanct by one night's rest upon
The Virgin's altar.

[Bertrand places Ardia's seat by her father, who stands at the left of Oswald]

You, fair Berenice,
Sit at my right, and on your other side
The graceless prince of Suli begs for room.

Bere. He beg, my lord? I have not heard his tongue,
And for his eyes, I fear no leek of Wales
Could pull a beggar's tear from them to oil
This suit. But he is welcome.

Ber. [Taking seat by her] Thank you, lady.

[When all are seated save Charilus and Oswald a priest enters bearing a chalice of wine which he places on table before Oswald]

Osw. This is the cup by angels visited
In night's deep hours. Herein they dropped the peace
Of Heaven, which Charilus and I shall take
Into our hearts. I know in truth it holds
Sweet peace for me—the peace that thirty years
My veins have ached for. Charilus, what say you?

Char. My heart can hold no more of peace than now
Doth fill it, but I drink with you, my lord.

[Drinks from goblet which Oswald has filled from chalice, and Oswald drinks from goblet filled by Charilus]

Osw. [Dropping his glass] Is peace a fire?
I' faith, this kindles me!
Thou smileless priest, take off the Virgin's cup!
You think it needs another blessing, sir,
Since my bold hand has touched it? Out with you!
[Exit priest with chalice]
That pinch-face has seen hell and fasts to keep
The ghost down. I'll not fast. Set to, my friends.
Fill up your bowls, for I've a health for you.
We drink to Berenice, bride to be
Of Bertrand, prince of Suli and my son!

A Lord. [As all lift their glasses]
We pledge the bride of Bertrand—Berenice!

Ber. Drink not, my lords, till you have changed that name
To Ardia, daughter of our noble guest,
Lord Charilus!

Fred. [Rising] If this be sport, Earl Oswald,
A world of groans shall pay for 't!

Bere. [In mock swoon] Oh.... I faint....

[Her ladies help her]

Osw. You bawling ass! You thousand times a fool!

Ber. [To Oswald] You've woven a maze about me, and I'm blind
With 't, yet I see to pluck one truth,—my bride
Is Ardia. No other under Heaven! My lords,
It is the wine——

Osw. Would then 'twere in your throat!
Is this the riddle of your morning smile?
Your fair compliance, soft submission? Sir,
By my heart's blood, I'll give you to the sword
Ere you shall make me father to a drab—
The spoil of your own lust, the—What, you draw?
Ay, strike me down! Let me be first to fall
Beneath your mighty sword! The rust has lain
A lifetime on it, and a father's blood
May cleanse it bright as Heaven!

Ber. O, my Christ!

Osw. Yea, call on him, and he will hear thee too,
Who honorest so thy father!
[Bertrand stands speechless]
Now, my lords,
Since he no longer brays, I have a tale
To tell you. I, too, had a father, though
The world has long forgot him.

Fred. No, my friend.
Well do I bear in mind his fair, proud face,
And glory of his arms.

Osw. He was struck down
Because a minion, straying from the hearth,
Looked on his beauty with her nestling eyes.

Fred. For no more cause?

Osw. I swear it. Friends, if death
Were the cold price for kissing of a jade,
Who here would be alive? For so slight sin
Was my brave father murdered. Charilus, speak!
Was not the princely heart of John of Clyffe
Ripped with a hate-keen sword,—the sword of him
Who claimed the lordship of those rebel lips
That chose my father liege?

Char. It is too true.

Osw. Who better knows? Say that a wilding flies
The builded bower, hearing a lordlier song
Pass on the wind than her dull mate can tune,
Must then the singer die, who scarcely knows
His song is heard, or that a bold wing follows?

Char. Whether the earl of Clyffe sang then to woo,
As I believe, or for the love of song,
As you do say, my lord,—his death was sin,
And he who wrought that woe shed tears enough
To clear his stain, if tears may whiten souls.

Osw. A murderer's tears! But what of mine, the son's?

Ber. Your oath—your honor, sir! Where is the love
You swore should cleanse your shield?

Osw. Safe in my heart.
And burning for my father.

Ber. God of pity!

Osw. That was the love I spoke of.

Ber. All be deaf
But hell!

Osw. Hear the full tale, my friends. I swear
The earl of Clyffe died for no more offence
Than I have here set out,—and I, his only son,
Kissed his red wounds and from his breast unbound
This bloody scarf— [taking scarf from his bosom] that then was crimson, now
In age-grown black bemourns my step that comes
So sluggish to revenge. For thirty years
Had passed ere I beheld his murderer,
Then face to face we stood ... and face to face
We stand ... for this is he, this Charilus
Of Kidmir—peace-lipped Cain—gray hypocrite,
Whose blood is honey in his veins, whose eyes
Stare on the world as he were some bland god
Who made it and said "good."

Char. Sir, I would send
My daughter to her brothers. Grant me this.
And I am ready for what death you please.

Ard. I will not go. One sword shall strike us both.
[Turns to Oswald]
But first a word to you. When Charilus falls,
Say farewell to your son. He pledged his life
To my two brothers for our father's safety,
And you, who know him least, yet know he'll keep
That pledge.

Osw. What, creature, will you lie?

Ard. I speak
The truth. Strike, if you can, this gray old man,
Silvered in service to the one high God,
Sinless as sunlight, fair in sweetened age,—
Let forth his sainted blood, and Bertrand lives
No longer than the shortest time between
Suli and Kidmir.

Osw. That's a lifetime then!
He shall not step! I'll have him hung with chains
Till he is fast as rooted oaks in earth!

Ber. [Stunned] A guest betrayed....

Osw. Betrayed? I promised him
Such treatment as he gave my blood. And he
Shall have it—death!

Char. Peace be my heir!

Ber. [Takes stand by Charilus] Death, sir?
First break this sword! Thy sin must be unnamed
Until the angel who doth write thee damned
Gives it foul christening. I break my pledge.
I will not go to Kidmir. Here I'll give
My life for Charilus.

Char. No blow for me!
O, may I unavengèd lie forgot,
And my forgiving blood make barren ground
Alive with asphodel——

Ber. Nay, I will strike,
Though a father's sword meet mine!

[Charilus trembles, and supports himself by Ardia's arm]

Osw. Commend me, stars!
You counselled well. [To Bertrand] Fool, do not draw. There's none
Will run against you. Charilus is dead,
And by a way more sure. His holy goblet
Held one rich drop the angels put not there
Nor Virgin blessed. See how he pales—and stares—
And cannot get his voice? So are we spared
A swan-song homily trickling through his beard.
Be off, old pray-lip—off, and take with you
Your cat-foot peace and milky piety!
I serve a vengeful God who armeth men
For his own wars!

Ber. Heaven, draw thy clouds about thee!

[Charilus dies in Ardia's arms]

Osw. He's dead! The air of earth is sweet again.
I have no enemy!

Ber. [Looking up from the body] You have no son.

[Curtain]

ACT III

Scene: On Kidmir Pass. Moonlight paling to dawn. Ardia alone, struggling up the Pass.

Ard. [Looking back] They do not follow. I am safe from that. [Sits on a rock]
Why should I climb? There is no rest up there.
But there is death, mayhap,—and that is worth
The sorest climbing. O, my father dear,
Is 't thy dead self so heavy on my heart?
Thou shouldst be light upon thy spirit wings,
And give me of thy freedom.
[Gaina enters from above]
Gaina, hast found
The spring?

Gaina.   'Tis farther up.

Ard. More steps.

Gaina. Wait here.
Barca will bring you drink. Nay, sit you still.

Ard. I must. How this weak body masters us,
Cooling the bravest will that in strong limbs
Might dance to any goal! Yet do we say
The will is lord, whose flush is in the blood
And fades wi' the paling body. By that lie
We cling to Heaven and immortality.
... O, I am lost so deep I need not fear
The farthest bolt of God! Out, out the pale
Of his concern!

Gaina.         Why now, honey dear!
A sip of fine spring water and you'll be
A lark o' the morning! All's not bad, I say.
There's Banissat would marry you to-morrow!
What pretty words he spoke, and took us in
Like a good father—but I saw him look!
And he were shaved he'd have a merry eye.
Such meal and honey! I've a thankful tooth!
Come now, what say you? Run from such a fortune,
And stumbling is no matter. Ay, a trip
Or two were well enough.

Ard. Yes, foolish 'twas
To fly from Banissat.

Gaina. You know it? Well, well,
If it's your own right mind you've run to, dearie,
There's no harm done past mending.

Ard. [Taking a small dagger from her dress]
This had saved
My feet these weary steps.

Gaina. Sweet Mary, save us!
Wouldst slay a prince for loving thee?

Ard. No, wretch.
I could not take another's life though 'twere
Of all the world the foulest.

Gaina. Bless the lass!

Ard. But out of pity I could take my own.
Why should my heart beat on and labor so
For merest leave to beat again?

Gaina. Now, now!
[Enter Barca]
Here's Barca, praise the saints! Now you'll take heart!

[Ardia takes gourd from Barca and drinks]

Ard. Thanks, Barca. But there's misery in the draught
That makes me keen again. I fear me I'll
Yet hope.

Barca. Will you walk on?

Ard.   Yes, come.

Barca. [Listening] What's that?
A noise below!

Ard.   Some one from Banissat!
I'll not be taken!

Barca.          Come aside, my lady.
Here is good hiding.

[They go behind a great rock half hidden by cedars. Bertrand enters below. Ardia steps out and stands before him. He kneels]

Ber. Spirit, hast come for me? I'll join thee, love,
When I have climbed this peak and met the sword
That sets my honor free.

Ard. Nay, rise, my lord.

Ber. [Rising] Thy living self? Here in the night alone?

Ard. Barca is here, and Gaina.

Ber.   Sweet, the moon
Makes thee so fair.

Ard. [Smiling] Was I not always fair?

Ber. [Embracing her] My living love! Sit here,—and now thy story.

Ard. I'll shorten it to get to thine.

Ber. You had
The dagger that I sent you? [She shows it to him]
My sole gift
To love.

Ard. O, it was dear as death then seemed
To me!

Ber. Cast it away.

Ard. No, for love's sake
I'll keep it, and it shall do no work save God's.
Listen ... it prophesies.... I'll need it yet.

Ber. O, I was mad to send it! Would you wreck
This tent set fair upon the soul's long road,
By pain-craft wrought of every whiter dream,
Where God may sit with us and map the winds
That forward blow and back, the paths laid free
To His far end, and those where blind walls rise
Breast-piled with thwarted dust? Dear soul of me,
Would we know Heaven we must listen here,
And one word lost may mean a path all dark
When we fare outward. This is not for you,
This fear-born blade. Away with it!
[She clasps it closer]
Is not
Your danger past?

Ard. Not while Avesta loves.

Ber. O God! But tell me now the full, foul story,—
Yet not all foul, since you are here alive.

Ard. Your father——

Ber. I've no father!

Ard. —sent me forth
With my two servants. When we reached Avesta,
The prince met us with welcome, much too warm
Methought, so in the night we stole away
And reached the pass—all with some wit and care,
As you shall know hereafter. Now your word.

Ber. I was imprisoned.

Ard. Yes, I know.

Ber. A guard
Gave me his sword. I fought the others.

Ard. Fought?

Ber. And killed. Look on this blade.
  A brother's blood.

Ard. My love!

Ber.   At last I am Earl Oswald's son!

Ard. My Bertrand! [Drawing aside his cloak]
  You are wounded! Vairdelan!

Ber. That name is no more mine.

Ard. How did you pass
Avesta?

Ber. The guards were friends of Vairdelan.
I used the stainless name that I had lost.
O, I have lied to keep my word, and slew
That I might die!

Ard. Might die? You mean ... my brothers.
They must be merciful.

Ber.   With Charilus slain?

Ard. O, me! I too shall die. And that is best,
If anything we do be worst or best.
I've read within my father's secret script
That earth shall lose its heart of fire, and lie
Dead-cold and dark with no green thing upon it.
Then this black crust shall bear no form of man,
Nor trace of him. Why then such ceaseless pain
To look a little longer on the sun,
When he who seals his eyes this day with dust
But leagues with time to reach the journey's end
Without the journey's ache?

Ber.   Hast lost thy faith?
My heart, say earth must be its own still grave,
Our destiny lies farther. But were life
A march to naught, I'd choose it for the sake
Of one bright wonder by the way—your love,
My Ardia.

Ard.     You love me, yet would die. Thou'rt mine!
And I will hold thee, yea, on this warm earth,
Not in some strange and tearless world!

[While they speak Barca moves up the pass and listens]

Barca. My lord?

Ber. Ay, Barca?

Barca. Men are on the pass.

Ard. Above?
My brothers! Oh!

Ber. I go to meet them.

Ard. Stay!

Ber. They shall not come to me. I go to them.
My honor, love, my honor!

Ard. O, men, men!
You build a shrine to love and ask us fling
Our lives, our souls into it. Once within,
The door forever shut, there sits a god,
A monster-god, your honor, and we must sue
For barest room to stand or crouch or kneel
Where by your oaths we should be sovereign.

Ber. The shrine itself is honor, dear, my heart.
That gone, we have indeed no holy place
To shelter love. Was 't not yourself who said
That man to man must keep his pledge?

Ard. Ah me,
That shining night! That night of golden wings!
And now comes this. Can such two nights be born
In the same world, and but one sun between?
[Bertrand staggers]
You're bleeding still!

Ber. Fast, fast.

Ard. My veil——
I'll wrap you with it! [Binds wound]

Ber. Thanks, for I would live
To die upon their swords.

Ard. Wait, wait, my lord!
O, do not meet them in their first deep rage——

Ber. Farewell!

Ard. You shall not see them till my prayers
Have turned their hearts from blood.

Ber. Part thou with hope
And pain will leave thee too. That is the wrench,
Not death.

Ard. Stay, stay! Are there not miracles yet?
I'll hide you yonder till——

Ber. They come!

[Hurries up pass, staggers and falls]

Ard. He faints!
The miracle begins! Here, Barca, Gaina,
Bear him aside. He swift! Then come to me.
O, gently, Barca! Haste!
[Barca draws Bertrand behind the rocks]
He shall be saved!
Thou'lt not deny me, Heaven! O, forget
That ever I blasphemed Thee!

[Enter, above, Biondel and Vigard]

Vig. Who is here?

Ard. My brothers!

Vig. Ardia, by my life!

Bion. 'Tis she.
What do you here?

Ard. I go to you. Where else
Shall I find shelter in a world now bare
Save where your hearts make gentle room for me?

Bion. What do you mean? Where is our father?
  Speak!

Ard. You have not heard? Why then do you go down?

Bion. For word of Charilus. No messenger
Has come. All night we watched. What can you say
More than this fearful meeting tells? No word?
Are you the ghost you look? Is Charilus safe?

Ard. Safe as yon Heaven would have him. He is dead.
[Silence]
You loved him, though you went another way
To find your God.

Bion. Our father dead? O, sister,
Not cold, not still, not silent to his sons.
Who loved his voice even when they most forsook it!

Ard. Oswald betrayed us.

Vig. O, my sword, 'tis thou
Shalt split his heart, though every spear in Suli
Then pierce my own! [Going]

Bion.   Stay, Vigard!

Vig. Earth is fire!
Can you be still upon it? Where is Bertrand
With his deep oaths? O, coward! I will seek him——

Ard. No need. He'll come to you.

Bion.   He'll keep his oath,
You think?

Ard. I know he will.

Vig.   So knew you too
That Charilus was safe. Call him to life,
And we'll believe you yet!

Bion.   How died our father?
[Ardia weeps]
No matter now. And Oswald cast you out?
Afoot?

Gaina. Ay, so he did! I'll answer that!

Ard. He sent us under guard.

Gaina. Ay, but afoot!
And 'twas a trudge to Avesta. O, the day!

Bion. Prince Banissat gave you no help?

Gaina. No help?
Who said so? There's a prince! He drew his sword,
And swore he'd drive Earl Oswald to the sea,
And said "Avesta's yours,"—that to my mistress,
She then bedraggled and so full of tears
She had no words to thank him. I did that!
Then we had sup and bed, and when my bones
Were sweet with sleep, why we must up again
And tug it to the peak.

Bion. [To Ardia]   He sheltered you!
Then there was hope, which you have trampled down
By this mad flight.

Ard. I dared not think the prince
Would make my bitter fortunes his. In you
Lay my defence, and to your love I came.
You must make peace with Oswald. Yes, my brothers,
Although you write it with our father's blood.
He is all powerful. When Bertrand comes——

Vig. Ha, when he comes!

Bion. What then?

Ard. You may demand
Whate'er you will of Oswald, if you spare
The dear life of his son.

Vig. I'll have that life
And Oswald's too!

Ard. He'll make you any terms——

Vig. Ay, any terms, and keep none, once his son
Is safe.

Bion. [Looking down the pass] Who comes?—with gleaming lances? Ah....
The prince!

Vig. By Allah, he!

[It is now dawn. Ardia steps back into shadow as Banissat and followers enter. His retainers wait at entrance below while he advances]

Ban. Good-morrow, friends.

Bion. Hail to you, Banissat!

Ban. I seek a dove
That fled my hand last night. Has 't flown your way?

Bion. Our sister is with us.

Ban. Then search ends here.

Bion. Her flight meant no ingratitude, my lord.
Her father's arms grown cold, she came to ours
By the shortest way, bringing her honor home
Where none might question it.

Ban. We love her more
For watchful care of what to us is precious
As to herself. Heaven-pure must be the bride
Of Banissat, and tainted Heaven will put
The earth to blush ere she will bring us shame.
I offer her my princedom.

Ard. [Stepping out] One whose veil
Is lost? Whose face is common to the eyes
Of beggars by the road?

Ban. O, bald and bitter!
But did not one, our Lady of Paradise,
Walk with bare brow among our counsellors?
And you are pure as she. Who dares to soil
The chosen of Banissat with whisper that
He saw you on this journey, forfeits eyes
And tongue. So silence shall give burial deep
To every slander.

Ard.   You will not forget.

Ban. Yourself shall be my dear oblivion.
For Beauty keeps no records, has no past;
Her arms engird love's moment, and there is
No other time.

Ard.   Nay, Beauty's history
Is writ beneath her bloom, and when that goes
The deep, uncovered scars are hated more
Because of love that kissed them unaware.
I dare not wed you, but say that I dared,
Wouldst grasp my broken fortunes when you need
Strong Antioch's staff and sceptre to make good
Your gates 'gainst Oswald? And I've heard, my lord,
That Antioch's daughter is a prize you seek.

Ban. Be not o'er-jealous, Ardia of the Stars,
For Antioch shall serve thee. There my suit
Is but a fair appearance,—there I woo
To make thy state secure, and thou shalt be
Bride of my heart unrivalled.

Ard.   Hear me then!
I am betrothed to Bertrand. He is sworn
To me as I to him.

Vig. Death to your tongue!
You'd wed your father's slayer?

Ard. I would wed
Lord Bertrand. [Kneels to Biondel] Brother!

Vig. Give no ear to her!

Ard. If you would save Avesta and yourselves,
Make peace with Oswald. Trust not Antioch.
When Bertrand comes——

Vig. He will not come! He's not
A fool as thou!

Ard. He comes!

Vig. [Lifting his sword] Then here's his welcome!

[Bertrand comes out and walks slowly to the group. Vigard, amazed, lowers his sword]

Ber. My friends, well met. You cut my journey short.

[Gives his sword to Biondel]

Bion. You have come back ... to death?

Ber. The blow, my lord.
Your work is wellnigh done. An easy stroke
Will finish it.

Vig.         And whose is that?

Bion. Not mine.
I do condemn him, but can lift no hand
To seal mine order.

Vig. I am not so weak.
This blow for Charilus!

Ard. [Staying him] If Bertrand dies
My honor goes unto a grave so deep
No shoot of green will ever from it spring
For the world's eye to light on.

Bion. You make much
Of broken troth. There's many a maid has lived
In wedded honor with a second choice.

Ard. But I may not.

Bion. Peace, sister.

Ard.   Let him live,
And Suli's glory will enwrap my name
Stainless and safe.

Ban.   'Tis safe with me. Ay, safer.
Let Antioch enlist with me, and I
Shall wear the name of Suli with my own.

Ard. You've yet to hear ... you do not know, my lord....

Ber. Sweet, plead no more. Let me go on to Heaven
If 't be God wills his gates shall ope to me.

Vig. You'll stop in hell a thousand years or so!

Ard. Wait! I will tell——

Vig. You've said too much!

Bion. Speak, Ardia.

Ard. In Suli castle where I was betrothed
To Bertrand, just one sun agone—but one—
He spent the night with me.

Vig.   She lies!

Ard.   Say now
If Banissat, or any lord save Bertrand,
Will make me wife.

Bion. Must I believe you?

Ban. No.
A woman's trick.

Ard. There's proof. Ask whom you will
Of Oswald's train—the lords who saw me cast
From Suli's door, too vile for word or touch.
Ask any trooper, jesting by the way,
And hear my name made foul. The army rings
With it. Ask any gossip of the tents——

Ban. O, stop her tongue! It thunders on me! All
The air is storm! Peace, or I'll strike her down!

Bion. This seals your death, Lord Bertrand. Now my hand
Is hot and willing.

[Enter a messenger below. He gives a packet to Banissat]

Messenger. Antioch sends this,
O, prince!

Bion. [To Bertrand] I had your word above all oaths
That you would guard our sister. When the priest
Strips bare the shrine, not outraged God or man
Shall show him mercy.

Ard. He is innocent!
'Twas Oswald's plot to cast me in the dust—
And there I lie where all the world may see—
But Bertrand's soul is guiltless——

Vig. Guiltless! Tush!
Your puzzle's clear. [To Biondel] She dies with him.

Ard. I die
If Bertrand dies. But, oh my brothers, we
Are young—we love—will you not let us live?

Bion. [To Vigard] 'Tis best she dies.

Ber. You will not dare——

Bion. The prince
Shall be her judge.

Ban. First let us speak aside,
For Antioch fails us, and we've more to weigh
Than the quick death of this too-guilty pair.

[Banissat, Biondel, and Vigard go off above]

Ber. I have brought death upon you.

Ard. Life, 'tis life
Now beating in the dawn! What music! Hear it!
O, we shall live, my lord, and live together!

Ber. In Heaven, love.

Ard. True, for this planet too,
Ay, even this earth, is set in Heaven as deep
As any star. 'Tis we are heaven to eyes
In other worlds, and would be to our own
Could we believe. O, hope with me, my Bertrand!
No, no, not hope, whose other half is doubt,
And to its dark and fearful double owes
Its very radiance, too, too unlike
Belief's transmuting sun!

Ber. Ah, love, no man ere broke
Undrained his cup, or brewed again those drops
To his desire——

Ard. Nay, every man is new
In destiny, his star his own, and foots
Unmeasured paths.

Ber. On mortal feet.

Ard. Be 't so,
Each birth is a high venture of the soul
Feeling an untried way for deity's dream,
And none may know where th' deep and twilight trail
Shall flash with God-rift, and the dawn be his.

Ber. O, bravest, bow thy head——

Ard. Nay, nay, my lord!
Lock up your spirit, let mine rule this hour,
Or be with me the flame of faith that leaps
To deed in God. For we do help him, dear.
Our parcelled strength is whole and new in His,
A power born that touches us again,
Breeding our greater self that yet gives back
His own increase, until the way is strewn
Even with his miracles and ours. So works
The unending drama out, where every act
Begets an act yet greater than itself.

Ber. Let me but kiss thy hands.

Ard. You will not help?
You'll not believe? Is it so strange
That you should live?

Ber. That hate should let me live.

Ard. Is it more strange that halo should grow love-still,
Than that the wind should cease, as now it does,
To strip the bloom from yonder bough, and lie
Unfelt within its silent place? More strange
That life should keep its flow in your warm veins
Than that the sun now creeping on the peaks
Should wander down and on and lay in gold
The valleys of the world, moved by no hand
We see or name, but know, but know!

[Biondel, Vigard, and Banissat re-enter]

Ard. He lives!

Bion. He lives. Speak the conditions, prince.

Ban. [To Bertrand] Your life
Is spared that she whose name is lost
May wear your own. You shall remain on Kidmir peak,
And make her yours by every priestly rite
With open, fair observance. Then Earl Oswald
Must greet as daughter one he vilely mocked
From his proud door, and far and wide acclaim her
Princess of Suli. Will his love for you
So bow his heart?

Ber. I may not speak for him.

Ard. He will consent.

Ban. And, further, he shall give
To Biondel the governorship of Ilon.
And grant Ramoor to Vigard.

Ber. Not for price
Of my poor life will Oswald yield these towns
To any save a Christian.

Ban. So we think.
And therefore will these lords forswear
The Prophet for your Christ.

Ber. Such sudden change——

Vig. Not sudden, sir. We've long debated it
In secret talk, but loved too well our prince
To so forsake his banner.

Bion. Now the day
Is here when as his true and Christian friends
We may best serve him, and yet keep the peace
For which our father died.

Ber. He is alive again
If you be true. Though wonder is in the hour
I will not stare or question.

Ard. Question nothing.
Do you not live?

Bion. The prince will summon Oswald
To earliest parley, and make our offer known.

Ban. Nor lose an instant. Here begins my journey.
[Signs to retainers who start down the pass]

Bion. We need not give you thanks when you've our hearts
That hold them.

Ban. By the sunset hour the earl
Shall give me answer. Meet me in Avesta
'Tween dark and light.

Bion. We will, my lord.

[Exit Banissat]

Ber. O, strange!
Will he keep faith?

Bion. If you must doubt his heart,
Trust his affliction. Antioch lost to him,
What can he do but smile on Christian Oswald?
By that same argument I am condemned,
But beg a respite till this pushing peace,
Upsprung in haste, may bear you buds of proof.

Ber. What world is this?

Vig. Climb you no farther, sir.
Your wounds forbid. Our servants shall be sent
To bear you up.

Bion. Ay, wait you here, my lord.

[Exeunt Biondel and Vigard above]

Ber. Love, see the sun!

Ard. It is my heart, my heart!

[Curtain]

ACT IV

Scene: Same as first act. An altar near wall, left. Seven maidens putting fresh garlands about the hall.

Mylitta. She must be dressed by this. Come, let us sing!

Mirimond. No, wait! Our part is yet undone.
Here hangs
A withered garland.

Alenia. Here another. See!
And there! Well, we are slack.

Eudora. Who would not be?
We've cause for sleepy wits and fingers too,
With seven days and nights of revelling.

Garla. And Charilus warm in 's grave.

Myrana. He'll be no colder
Let come a hundred months. Ten years, ten days,
'Tis all the same i' the ground.

Daphne. And yet, I think
The daughter smiles too soon.

Mylitta. Troth, I would smile
For such a lord if all the world beside
Were wrapped in shroud.

Mirimond. I would the English knights
Were come! Full fifty, Barca said, would ride
From Suli.

Mylitta. I know you, chit. Your eyes will find
Their way.

Mirimond. Mayhap not all of us will take
The homeward ship for Corinth. Did we think
When we set sail we'd come in time to see
Our Ardia married?

Mylitta. You will dream.

Garla. If dreams
Were men, what maid would go unwed? Not you,
Mylitta.

Myrana. Come, our song! 'Tis time!

Eudora. Come, all!

[They sing by Ardia's door]