PLAYS
AND
LYRICS
BY
CALE YOUNG RICE
LONDON
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
27 PATERNOSTER ROW
NEW YORK: MCCLURE PHILLIPS & CO.
44 EAST TWENTY-THIRD STREET
1906
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED. PRINTERS, WOKING AND LONDON.
To
IDA M. TARBELL
WITH FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP
This volume contains "Yolanda of Cyprus,"
a hitherto unpublished play; many new
lyrics; some others that appeared in
"Song-Surf," a volume whose publishers
failed before it reached the public; and
"David," which came out in America
in 1904. The author's desire has
been to include only his best work.
|
PAGE |
| YOLANDA OF CYPRUS |
1 |
|
|
| LYRICS—DRAMATIC:— |
|
| JAEL |
91 |
| MARY AT NAZARETH |
96 |
| OUTCAST |
98 |
| ADELIL |
100 |
| THE DYING POET |
102 |
| ON THE MOOR |
105 |
| HUMAN LOVE |
107 |
| O GO NOT OUT |
108 |
| CALL TO YOUR MATE, BOB-WHITE |
110 |
| TRANSCENDED |
112 |
| THE CRY OF EVE |
113 |
| THE CHILD GOD GAVE |
116 |
| MOTHER-LOVE |
118 |
| ASHORE |
120 |
| LOVE'S WAY TO CHILDHOOD |
122 |
| LISSETTE |
123 |
| TEARLESS |
125 |
| THE LIGHTHOUSEMAN |
126 |
| BY THE INDUS |
128 |
| FROM ONE BLIND |
130 |
| AT THE FALL OF ROME, A.D. 455 |
131 |
| PEACELESS LOVE |
133 |
| SUNDERED |
134 |
| WITH OMAR |
135 |
| A JAPANESE MOTHER (IN TIME OF WAR) |
144 |
|
|
| LYRICS—NON-DRAMATIC:— |
|
| SHINTO (MIYAJIMA, JAPAN, 1905) |
146 |
| EVOCATION (NIKKO, JAPAN, 1905) |
148 |
| THE ATONER |
150 |
| INTIMATION |
151 |
| IN JULY |
152 |
| FROM ABOVE |
154 |
| SONGS TO A. H. R.:— |
|
| I. THE WORLD'S AND MINE |
155 |
| II. LOVE-CALL IN SPRING |
156 |
| III. MATING |
157 |
| IV. UNTOLD |
158 |
| V. LOVE-WATCH |
159 |
| VI. AS YOU ARE |
160 |
| VII. AT AMALFI |
161 |
| VIII. ON THE PACIFIC |
163 |
| THE WINDS |
165 |
| THE DAY-MOON |
167 |
| TO A SINGING WARBLER |
169 |
| TO THE SEA |
170 |
| THE DEAD GODS |
172 |
| AT WINTER'S END |
175 |
| APRIL |
176 |
| AUGUST GUESTS |
177 |
| AUTUMN |
178 |
| THE WORLD |
179 |
| TO THE DOVE |
180 |
| AT TINTERN ABBEY |
182 |
| THE VICTORY |
184 |
| SEARCHING DEATH'S DARK |
185 |
| SERENITY |
187 |
| TO THE SPRING WIND |
188 |
| THE RAMBLE |
189 |
| RETURN |
192 |
| THE EMPTY CROSS |
194 |
| SUNSET-LOVERS |
196 |
| TO A ROSE (IN A HOSPITAL) |
198 |
| UNBURTHENED |
199 |
| WHERE PEACE IS DUTY |
201 |
| WANTON JUNE |
202 |
| AUTUMN AT THE BRIDGE |
204 |
| SONG |
205 |
| TO HER WHO SHALL COME |
206 |
| AVOWAL TO THE NIGHTINGALE |
208 |
| STORM-EBB |
210 |
| SLAVES |
212 |
| WAKING |
213 |
| FAUN-CALL |
214 |
| LINGERING |
216 |
| STORM-TWILIGHT |
217 |
| WILDNESS |
218 |
| BEFORE AUTUMN |
219 |
| FULFILMENT |
221 |
| TO THE FALLEN LEAVES |
223 |
| MAYA (HIROSHIMO, JAPAN, 1905) |
224 |
| SPIRIT OF RAIN (MIANOSHITA, JAPAN, 1905) |
226 |
| THE NYMPH AND THE GOD |
227 |
| A SEA-GHOST |
228 |
| LAST SIGHT OF LAND |
230 |
| SILENCE |
231 |
|
|
| DAVID |
233 |
YOLANDA OF CYPRUS
CHARACTERS
| Renier Lusignan |
A descendant of the Lusignan kings of Cyprus. |
| Berengere |
His wife. |
| Amaury |
His Son, Commander of Famagouste under the Venetians. |
| Yolanda |
The Ward of Berengere, betrothed to Amaury. |
| Camarin |
A Baron of Paphos, guest in the Lusignan Castle. |
| Vittia Pisani |
A Venetian Lady, also a guest. |
| Moro |
A Priest. |
| Hassan |
Warden of the Castle. |
| Halil |
His Son, a boy. |
| Tremitus |
A Physician. |
| Olympio |
A Greek boy, serving Amaury. |
| Alessa |
Berengere's Women. |
| Maga |
| Civa |
| Mauria |
| Smarda |
Slave to Vittia. |
| Pietro |
In Vittia's pay. |
| |
Priests, acolytes, etc. |
| |
Time—The sixteenth century. |
| |
Place—The island of Cyprus. |
ACT I
Scene: A dim Hall, of blended Gothic and Saracenic styles, in
the Lusignan Castle, on the island of Cyprus near Famagouste.
Around the walls, above faint frescoes portraying
the deliverance of Jerusalem by the Crusaders, runs a frieze
inlaid with the coats-of-arms of former Lusignan kings. On
the left, and back, is a door hung with heavy damask, and
in the wall opposite, another. Farther down on the right
a few steps, whose railing supports a Greek vase with jasmine,
lead through a chapel to the sleeping apartments. In the
rear, on either side, are guled lattice windows, and in the
centre an open grated door, looking upon a loggia, and, across
the garden below, over the moonlit sea. Seats are placed
about, and, forward, a divan with rich Turkish coverings.
A table with a lighted cross-shaped candlestick is by the
door, left; and a lectern with a book on it, to the front,
right. As the curtain rises, the Women, except Civa, lean
wearily on the divan, and Halil near is singing dreamily,
Ah, the balm, the balm,
And ah, the blessing
Of the deep fall of night
And of confessing.
Of the sick soul made white
Of all distressing:
Made white!...
Ah, balm of night
And, ah the blessing!
The music falls and all seem yielding to sleep. Suddenly
there are hoof-beats and sounds at the gates below.
Halil springs up.
Halil. Alessa! Maga! Stirrings at the gates!
Some one is come.
Alessa. Boy, Halil, who?
Halil. Up, up!
Perhaps Lord Renier—No: I will learn.
(He runs to curtains and looks.)
It is Olympio! Olympio!
From Famagouste and Lord Amaury!
Mauria. Ah!
And he comes here?
Halil. As he were lord of skies!
To lady Yolanda, by my lute!
Maga. Where is she?
Alessa. I do not know; perhaps, her chamber.
Mauria. Stay:
His word may be of the Saracens.
Halil (calling). Oho!
(He admits Olympio, who enters insolently down. All press
around him gaily.)
Mauria. Well what, Olympio, from Famagouste?
What tidings? tell us.
Maga. See, his sword!
Olympio. Stand off.
Mauria. The tidings, then, the tidings!
Olympio. None—for women.
Mauria. So, so, my Cupid? None of the Saracens?
Of the squadron huddling yesterday for haven
At Keryneia?
Olympio. Who has told you?
Mauria. Who?
A hundred galleys westing up the wind,
Scenting the shore, but timorous as hounds.
A gale—and twenty down!
Maga. The rest are flown?
Olympio. Ask Zeus, or ask, to-morrow, lord Amaury,
Or, if he comes, to-night. To lady Yolanda
I'm sent and not to tattle silly here.
(He starts off, but is arrested by laughter within. It
is Civa who enters, holding up a parchment.)
O! Only Civa. (Starts again with Halil.)
Civa. How, Olympio!
Stay you, and hear!—May never virgin love him!
Gone as a thistle! (Turns.)
Mauria. Pouf!
Alessa (to Civa). Now, what have you?
Civa. Verses! found in the garden. Verses! verses!
On papyrus of Paphos. O, to read!
But you, Alessa—!
Alessa (takes them). In the garden?
Civa. By
The fountain cypress at the marble feet
Of chaste Diana!
Maga. Where Sir Camarin
And oft our lady—!
Civa. Maga will you prattle?
Read them to us, Alessa, read them, read.
They are of love!
Maga. No, sorrow.
Civa. O, as a nun
You ever sigh for sorrow!—They are of love!
Of valour bursting through enchanted bounds
To ladies prisoned in an ogre's keep!
Then of the bridals!—O, they are of love!
Maga. No, Civa, no! of sorrow! see, her lips!
(She points to Alessa, who, reading, has paled.)
See, see!
Civa. Alessa!
Alessa. Maga—Civa—Ah!
(She rends the parchment.)
Mauria. What are you doing?
Alessa. They were writ to her!
Mauria. To her? to whom? what are you saying? Read!
Read us the verses.
Mauria. Tell then his name
Who writes them, and to whom.
Alessa. I will not.
Mauria. Then
It is some guilt you hide!—And touching her
You dote on—lady Yolanda!
Alessa. Shame!
Mauria. Some guilt
Of one, then, in this castle!—See, her lips
Betray it is.
Maga. No, Mauria! no! (holds her) hush!
Mauria. O, loose me.
Maga. There, on the loggia! Hush, see—
Our lady and Sir Camarin.
Alessa (fearful). It is....
They heard us, Maga?
Maga. No, but——
Mauria (to Alessa). So? that mouse?
Alessa. You know not, Mauria, what 'tis you say.
(Berengere coldly, as if consenting to it, enters.)
She is seeking us; be still.
(Stepping out.) My lady?
Berengere. Yes.
Your lamps; for it is time
Now for your aves and o'erneeded sleep.
But first I'd know if yet Lord Renier——
(Sees their disquiet—starts.)
Alessa. I?
Berengere. So—and strange.
Alessa. We have
But put away the distaff and the needle.
Berengere. The distaff and the needle—it may be.
And yet you do not seem——
Alessa. My lady—?
Berengere. Go;
And send me Hassan.
Camarin—you saw?
They were not as their wont is.
Camarin. To your eyes,
My Berengere, that apprehension haunts.
They were as ever. Then be done with fear!
Berengere. I cannot.
Camarin. To the abyss with it. To-night
Is ours—Renier tarries at Famagouste—
Is ours for love and for a long delight!
Berengere. Whose end may be—
Camarin. Dawn and the dewy lark!
And passing of all presage from you.
Berengere (sits). No:
For think, Yolanda's look when by the cypress
We read the verses! And my dream that I
Should with a cross—inscrutable is sleep!—
Bring her deep bitterness.
Camarin. Dreams are a brood
Born of the night and not of destiny.
She guesses not our guilt, and Renier
Clasps to his breast ambition as a bride—
Ambition for Amaury.
Berengere. None can say.
He's much with this Venetian, our guest.
Though Venice gyves us more with tyranny
Than would the Saracen.
Camarin. But through this lady
Of the Pisani, powerful in Venice,
He hopes to lift again his dynasty
Up from decay; and to restore this island,
This venture-dream of the seas, unto his house.
'Tis clear, my Berengere!
Berengere. Then, her design?
And what the requital that entices her?
Evil will come of it, to us some evil,
Or to Yolanda and Amaury's love.
But, there; the women.
Camarin. And too brief their stay.
What signal for to-night?
Berengere. Be in the garden.
Over the threshold yonder I will wave
The candle-sign, when all are passed to sleep.
Camarin. And with the beam I shall mount up to you
Quicker than ecstasy.
Berengere. I am as a leaf
Before the wind and raging of your love.
Go—go.
Camarin. But to return unto your breast!
(He leaves her by the divan.)
(The women re-enter with silver lighted lamps; behind them
are Hassan and the slave Smarda. They wait for
Berengere, who has stood silent, to speak.)
Berengere (looking up). Ah, you are come; I had forgotten.
And it is time for sleep.—Hassan, the gates:
Close them.
Hassan. And chain them, lady?
Berengere. Wait no longer.
Lord Renier will not come.
Hassan. No word of him?
Berengere. None, though he yesterday left Nicosie
With the priest Moro.
Hassan. Lady—
Berengere. Wait no longer.
Come, women, with your lamps and light the way.
(The women go by the steps. Berengere follows.)
Hassan (staring after her). The reason of this mood in her? The reason?
Something is vile. Lady Yolanda weeps
In secret; all for what?—unless because
Of the Paphian—or this Venetian.
(Seeing Smarda.) Now,
Slave! Scythian! You linger?
Smarda. I am bidden—
My mistress.
Hassan. Spa! Thy mistress hath, I think,
Something of hell in her and has unpacked
A portion in this castle. Is it so?
Smarda. My lady is of Venice.
Hassan. Strike her, God.
Her smirk admits it.
Smarda. Touch me not!
Hassan. I'll wring
Thy tongue out sudden, if it now has lies.
What of thy lady and Lord Renier?
Smarda. Off!
(Renier enters behind, with Moro.)
Hassan. Thy lady and Lord Renier, I say!
What do they purpose?
Smarda. Fool-born! look around.
Hassan. Not till——
Smarda. Lord Renier, help.
Hassan. What do you say?
(Turns, and stares amazed.)
A fool I am....
Renier. Where is my wife?
Hassan. Why, she....
This slave stung me to pry.
Renier. Where is my wife?
Hassan. A moment since, was here—the women with her.
She asked for your return.
Renier. And wherefore did?
Hassan. You jeer me.
Renier. Answer.
Hassan. Have you not been gone?
Renier. Not—overfar. Where is Yolanda?—Well?
No matter; find my chamber till I come.
Of my arrival, too, no word to any.
You, Moro, have deferred me; now, no more.
Whether it is suspicion eats in me,
Mistrust and fret and doubt—of whom I say not,
Or whether desire and unsubduable
To see Amaury sceptred—I care not.
Slave, to your lady who awaits me, say
I'm here and now have chosen.
Moro. Do not!
Renier. Chosen.
None can be great who will not hush his heart
To hold a sceptre, and Amaury must.
He is Lusignan and his lineage
Will drown in him Yolanda's loveliness.
Moro. It will not.
Renier. Then at least I shall uncover
What this Venetian hints.
Moro. Hints?
Renier. I must know.
Moro. 'Tis of your wife?—Yolanda?
Renier. Name them not.
They've shut from me their souls.
Moro. My lord, not so;
But you repulse them.
Renier. When they pity. No,
Something has gone from me or never was
Within my breast. I love not—am unlovable.
Amaury is not so,
And this Venetian Vittia Pisani——
Moro. Distrust her!
Renier. She has power.
Moro. But not truth.
And yesterday a holy relic scorned.
Renier. She loves Amaury. Wed to her he will
Be the elected Governor of Cyprus.
The throne, then, but a step.
Moro. But all too great.
And think; Yolanda is to him as heaven:
He will not yield her.
Renier. Then he must. And she,
The Venetian, has ways to it—a secret
To pierce her from his arms.
Moro. Sir, sir?—of what?
Renier. I know not, of some shame.
Moro. Shame!
Renier. Why do you clutch me?
Moro. I—am a priest—and shame——
Renier. You have suspicion?
Of whom?—Of whom, and what?
Vittia (lightly). My lord, of women.
(Renier starts and turns.)
So does the Holy Church instill him.
Renier. You
Come softly, lady of Venice.
Vittia. Streets of sea
In Venice teach us.
Renier. Of what women, then?
My wife? Yolanda?
Vittia. By the freedom due us,
What matters it? In Venice our lords know
That beauty has no master.
Renier. Has no.... That,
That too has something hid.
Vittia. Suspicious lord!
Yet Berengere Lusignan is his wife!
And soon Yolanda—But for that I'm here.
You sent for me.
Renier (sullen). I sent.
Vittia. To say you've chosen?
And offer me irrevocable aid
To win Amaury?
Renier. All is vain in me
Before the fever for it.
Vittia. Then, I shall.
It must be done. My want is unafraid.
Hourly I am expecting out of Venice
Letters of power.
And what to you I pledge is he shall be
Ruler of Cyprus and these Mediterranean
Blue seas that rock ever against its coast.
That do I pledge ... but more.
Renier. Of rule?... Then what?
Vittia (going up to him). Of shame withheld—dishonour unrevealed.
(He half recoils and stands. Smarda enters hastily to them.)