FOURTH ACT

Jezebel.
I shall not look upon my son again!
 How many million mothers must have felt
 As I, with a dead child. How many lives
 Have been made lightless thus.
 For no child ever dies without the breaking
 Of someone’s heart.
 And yet the world goes on.
 I shall go on, perhaps for many years,
 And in my heart’s most secret corridor
 Will be a shrine, where I shall watch my son,
 Lonely as Helen in her tower at Troy
 When Paris had been killed.
 Would I had been beside him when he fell,
 And fallen with him to the pit of death!
 Better die so, not mangled in the war,
 A young man, beautiful in youth, as thou wert;
 Not troubled yet by life; not yet a King;
 Thou hast been only young and now art dead.
With all life’s faults, I want you back in life,
 Not dead, my son, beyond my touch and speech,
 But here, moving and speaking, being mine.
 My help and stay and wisdom and assuagement
 As in the past. You, who gave no farewell,
 Speak to me from the grave, O lovely son.

(There is a sighing.)

Was that an answer from the dead, or birds
 Flying away before the winter comes?
 My son, if you are there, speak to my spirit.

(There is a sighing.)

What message do you bring, that you are here?
 What do you come to tell me?
The Voice.
Death.
Jezebel.
What?
The Voice.
Death.
Jezebel.
Whose death? Mine? Or your father’s? Or the kingdom’s?
 My son’s soul was within this room and speaking.
 O speak again, say something, give me proof
 That you are linked still by dear love to me. Hark! Hush!
 No. There was no voice speaking; nor will be.

Ahaziah appears.

My boy! My son!
Ahaziah.
Mother!
Jezebel.
My child! My dear!
Ahaziah.
Listen. I cannot say it all. The flowers
 Speak truth. You all are coming.
Jezebel.
Then, beloved,
 We shall soon meet again, and part no more.
Ahaziah.
Mother, I struggle back to tell you this:
 It is most hard to come, most hard to speak.
 You must with all your power strive to cut
 These nets.
Jezebel.
What are these nets?
Ahaziah.
The nets of death,
 That are all round you like a hunter’s toils.
Jezebel.
Do you mean civil war? Or war with Syria?
Ahaziah.
That is not what I mean; but someone near you.
 Someone about you has most deadly hands,
 A hangman’s hands; and you must break his hands.
Jezebel.
Who is it, that is deadly? Is it Joram?
Ahaziah.
I cannot speak his name, but, mother, hark:
 He murdered me; I never saw his face;
 He killed me at the inn.
Jezebel.
Jehu, you mean?
Ahaziah.
The man forever looking at the throat,
 Whose fingers twitch; a red-eyed man it is,
 I cannot speak the name.
Jezebel.
Oh, it is Jehu!
 And Jehu murdered you?
Ahaziah.
There’s danger, mother;
 Avoid the nets. I cannot make you see them.
Jezebel.
Jehu is spreading nets of treachery?
Ahaziah.
The flowers speak truth; the flowers and the rod,
 The riding rod.

[He goes.

Jezebel.
Oh, speak! O my dear son,
 How can I help, I being Queen no longer,
 But banished and condemned? What can I do?
 And what is this of riding rods and flowers?

(There is a sighing.)

My son is gone into the night of Death,
 And Jehu murdered him in ways unknown.
 Would I could prove the crime!

Enter Micaiah.

Micaiah.
Madam, a rider from the inn at Springs
 Has brought these flowers, gathered by the Prince
 Your son, now dead.
Jezebel.
The flowers that speak truth;
 Was there no other relic but the flowers?
Micaiah.
Yes, Madam, this: a staff or riding rod,
 Left on the flowers, so the rider said.
Jezebel.
A riding rod! And do you know the rod?
Micaiah.
Madam, I do. It is Lord Jehu’s staff.
Jezebel.
What brought it to the inn at Springs, Micaiah?
Micaiah.
I do not know. The rider found it there.
Jezebel.
Where is the rider who delivered these?
Micaiah.
Gone, Madam; he preferred not to be known.
Jezebel.
I see you have suspicions; let me know them.
Micaiah.
Madam, this staff was in Lord Jehu’s hand
 This morning, when I saw him here at court.
Jezebel.
That, or one like it? Could you swear to that?
Micaiah.
He held this staff. He stopped me in the square
 About a warrant, and I noticed it.
 This little scratch is unmistakable.
Jezebel.
And what can you conclude from this, Micaiah?
Micaiah.
That the Lord Jehu hurried to the Springs,
 After I saw him, and then hurried back.
Jezebel.
What duty could have taken him to Springs?
Micaiah.
Madam, he had no duty there. I asked.
Jezebel.
Might not a messenger have gone from him
 Bearing his staff?
Micaiah.
Madam, he went himself.
 The warden at the west gate saw him start
 In that direction, and return from thence
 Three hours later. He was back by noon.
Jezebel.
So that he would have been at Springs, perhaps,
 Before Prince Ahaziah halted there?
Micaiah.
Perhaps.
Jezebel.
Yet not perhaps; he would have been there.
 He must have been there at the very time.
Micaiah.
Madam, I dare not utter thoughts like these.
Jezebel.
Yet Jehu could not know that he was coming
 Home from the frontier, or would pass by Springs.
Micaiah.
So please you, Madam, but the fact was known
 Publicly in the city everywhere.
 The knowledge was abroad, I know not how.
 You are beset by watchers, and by traitors.
Jezebel.
And murderers and friends of murderers.
 Jehu waylaid my son and murdered him.
 By these poor relics sacred with his blood
 I will denounce him to the King myself,
 Or lay him dead before me with my hands.

(She gathers the relics.)

Micaiah.
Lie there, sad relic of a glorious youth.
Zikri (entering).
Make ready for the utterance of the Prophet!
Kallai (entering).
Bow down before the Prophet, bringer of truth!

Enter the Prophet.

Prophet.
I am bringer of Truth out of the hidden,
 I am finder of ways where footing is sure,
 I am sword and shield against things forbidden.
 I am brightness to guide, healing to cure;
 Mine are the words that endure.
 I, now, about to declare as the Spirit orders,
 Cry, let women avoid, let children hide,
 Let none but spearmen be here, the city’s warders.
 I speak, out of the Truth, words that abide.
 Men only may hear what might of men must decide.

[Jezebel veils and goes.

Enter Joram, then Jehu, then Ahab, preceded by Spearmen.

Ahab.
Now that the revelation is vouchsafed,
 Stand, all, before this Prophet, who has seen
 Light in the darkness that has blinded us.
Prophet.
Hearken, O King, to revelation’s self.
 The spirit says, “Go up against the Syrians;
 At Ramoth-Gilead you shall conquer them.”
 See here these horns of iron that I wear.
 The spirit says, “With these horns shalt thou push
 The Syrians, until they be consumed.”
Jehu.
Good messages, good omens, good foretellings.
Ahab.
May they prove good.
Joram.
The spirit filled the prophets with a glory
 Marvellous to watch and hear: they spoke as one.
Micaiah.
Not quite as one, Prince Joram and my King.
 One was not filled with spirit.
Ahab.
Who is this?
Micaiah.
I am Micaiah, lord, who have been counted
 A seer, too, at times.
Ahab.
Oh, it is you!
 Honest Micaiah, who must speak the truth.
 I hate this man; he prophesies not good
 But evil of me.
Jehu.
These fellows are too ready with their evil.
Pharmas (to Micaiah).
See now, the prophets foretell victory,
 With one mouth; say the same; cry victory.
Micaiah.
As the Lord lives I’ll speak what the Lord says.
Ahab.
Micaiah, shall we go to Ramoth-Gilead
 To battle, or forbear?
Micaiah.
Go, lord, and prosper,
 The Lord shall make it yours.
Ahab.
How many times
 Shall I adjure you that you speak the truth,
 Speak nothing but the truth.
Joram.
I’d have a way to make him speak the truth.
 Two troopers with a pair of stirrup leathers
 To teach his obstinate jaw some reverence.
Ahab.
Peace, Joram: let him speak.
Micaiah.
Sir, I will speak.
 In dreams, last night, in the dark night, ere cocks crowed,
 I saw a downland empty to the sky.
Joram.
That is the way these fellows use to talk;
 They’d talk another way, had I my will.
Micaiah.
And suddenly I saw all Israel
 Scattered upon that downland frantically,
 Like sheep without a shepherd. The Lord said:
 “These have no master now; let them go home.”
Ahab.
And how do you interpret this your dream?
Micaiah.
That if you go this warfare, you, the master
 Of Israel, will die.
Ahab.
How die?
Micaiah.
I do not know.
Jehu.
You mean, in battle?
Micaiah.
By violence.
Joram.
That means in battle, surely.
Micaiah.
Not necessarily.
Jehu.
How else, then, man?
Micaiah.
I do not know. Perhaps by treachery.
Jehu.
We will protect the King from treachery.
Joram (to Micaiah).
Except such treachery as men like you
 Think in their hearts and utter in big words,
 Trying to wreck the State.
Ahab.
Did I not say
 That he would utter evil about me?
Joram.
These fellows need a bit within their jaws.
Micaiah.
My Prince, no bit can stop the telling truth.
Prophet.
What do you know of truth, idolater?
Micaiah.
Nothing. I know that certain things are true.
Jehu.
Fine talk, to keep the army lingering.
Ahab.
Have you some other vision to reveal?
Micaiah.
A sort of vision.
Prophet.
Ay, a sort of vision.
 There is one way of vision, only one,
 Vouchsafed to men, you false one, with false gods.
Ahab.
What is this vision? Will it lighten me?
Micaiah.
It is of you and of the prophet tribe.
Prophet.
Some blasphemy. Take heed to what he says.
Micaiah.
In the dark night I saw this other thing:
 I saw the Lord in heaven on his throne,
 With all the host of heaven standing by him.
 He said, “Who shall persuade King Ahab to go up
 And die at Ramoth-Gilead?” They discussed it.
 At last a spirit said, “I will persuade him.”
 The Lord said, “How?”
 The spirit said, “I will go forth and be
 A lying spirit in his prophets’ mouths.”
 And the Lord said, “Thou shalt. Go forth and do so.”
 Behold the Lord hath put a lying spirit
 Into thy prophets’ mouths, and spoken evil
 Not good to you.
Prophet.
You think God’s truth has passed from me to you.
 When did it pass, and how?
Micaiah.
You will know that
 When you shall go into an inner chamber
 To hide yourself.
Ahab.
Carry this fellow to the Governor,
 And have him into prison in the dark,
 And let his bread and drink be bitterness
 Until I come in peace.
Micaiah.
If you return at all
 In peace, the spirit has not spoken by me.
 Hearken, O people, every one of you.
Ahab.
Have him away.
Micaiah.
Which story is the likelier to be true,
 Mine, which when told brings prison, or this fellow’s
 Which earns the King’s reward? The truth is dangerous.
Joram.
You’ll find this dangerous. Away with him!

(He is dragged out.)

Jehu.
That shows how close your enemies can come.
 Even to your very court.
Joram.
He should be silenced.
Ahab.
He is a gallant fellow, without judgment.
 But he presumes too much, he and his dreams.
Prophet.
(Crying aloud.) O King, a vision is vouchsafed to me!
 I see! I see! Hearken to what I see.
 I see a red bull trampling down God’s foes;
 He neezes fire and all his fell is fire;
 His shoulder is a mountain rough with forest;
 His eye the wrath of God; he stamps the cities.
 Go up against the Syrians, like this bull.
Joram.
There is the voice of God.
Jehu.
Ay, truly, Prince.
Ahab.
Since God declares that we should make this war,
 Which we, as men, have shrunk from hitherto,
 Although provoked by countless insolence,
 Now hearken to the utterance of the crown.

Enter Jezebel.

Jezebel.
Ay, hearken to the utterance of the crown.
 You are all come to hear a war declared.
 Now I, the crown, declare it unto you.
 I declare war upon our enemies.
 They are all present, standing in this place,
 Waiting the execution of our sword.
 (To Prophet.) This man, the madman from the desert, first,
 Who rages like a desert-storm, that kills
 With sand, burning hot sand, pitiless sand.
 (To Joram.) This next, the hater of his house, our son,
 Who, for a wound that pains him would be glad
 That thousand others should be sick with wounds.
 (To Jehu.) Then, next, this other man, not mad not sick,
 Not even suspected; honoured, trusted, loved.
 This man, the rider to the inn at Springs,
 For secret evil. Hark! This man, King Ahab,
 Murdered our son and plots to murder you.
 Seize him, King Ahab, ere it be too late.
Ahab.
Murdered our son? But this is childishness.
Jezebel.
No, I bring proof; the rod, the rod he holds,
 Was found at Springs, to prove that he was there.
Jehu.
This rod, good Madam?
Jezebel.
Even that very rod.
Ahab.
Who found it at the Springs? Who brought it here?
Jezebel.
A rider, lord, who gave it to Micaiah.
Joram.
What rider?
Ahab.
Yes, what rider, can you tell?
Jezebel.
One who would not be known, Micaiah said.
Ahab.
Micaiah! He?
Joram.
The man imprisoned here.
Jehu.
My lord, I grieve less at this ill suspicion
 Than at the sad disaster which has caused it.
Jezebel.
You killed my son most foully at the inn;
 You were seen riding thither before noon,
 And left your rod there while you did the deed,
 Upon these flowers which my son had gathered;
 These desert flowers.
Jehu.
My Lord and King, I can most clearly prove
 That I was at my quarters all the morning.
 This rod I missed this morning from my quarters
 And found it here on entering but now.
 Prince Joram saw me find it as I entered.
Joram.
That is most true; I did.
 Mother, you should not be here; come away.
Jezebel.
My lord, my King, my husband, listen to me.
 You know me, whether I am mad or no.
 I am not mad; but Ahaziah’s spirit
 Came to me here, stood where his murderer stands,
 Less than an hour ago, denouncing him,
 His murderer, and traitor to yourself.
 I, knowing this, see to the soul of things,
 And cry, if you be man, attack this traitor,
 Tear out his wicked plottings and destroy him.
Ahab.
Let the Queen’s women come. I hear your charges
 Brought with more passion than with evidence.
 These are our friends, our proven soldier, Jehu,
 Our son, and this, the prophet of the spirit,
 Not what you think. See, here your women come.
 Tend the Queen’s majesty to her apartments.
Jezebel.
You think me mad, my inmost wisdom, mad.
 For the last time, for Ahaziah’s sake,
 For your sake, for the kingdom, for the crown,
 And for the sake of God who gives the crown,
 Believe what I have said against this Jehu.
Ahab.
I grieve that anyone should bring such charges.
 That you should bring them is an anguish to me.
 Go with your women hence, and try to rest.
Jezebel.
Prince Joram, will you give me your support?
 Thank you, my son.
 Since no one will believe,
 I, here, the Queen, must act alone. I will.

(She snatches Joram’s knife and tries to kill Jehu.)

Die, murderer of my son!
Joram (catching her).
I thought you’d try it.
 But I was ready for you. Come now, mother,
 You must go, rest. Come help her there, you women.

(Jezebel is helped off.)

It is my brother’s death that makes her thus.
Ahab.
It shakes us all. You understand, Duke Jehu,
 The cause of this, without my saying more.
Jehu.
My lord, I understand.
 But yet suggest some trial or enquiry
 Into my dealings.
Ahab.
Do not think of it.
 For these unhappy things which bruise men’s hearts
 Tear women’s hearts across. Let us proceed.
 I declare war against the Syrians
 For breach of treaty. We will march at once.
Joram.
Though wounded, I will march, for I’ll repay
 The Syrians what I owe. Come, prophet, spread
 The news throughout the city.
Prophet.
I will declare God’s wrath against his enemies.

(Joram and Prophet go.)

Ahab.
Stay, Jehu, yet. You heard Micaiah’s dream.
 That was an evil omen for our war.
Jehu.
I do not think so. Why, what was the dream?
 That there should seem to be no King to-day.
 Was not that it? The meaning is apparent:
 That you should wear disguise.
Ahab.
Ha! Well suggested.
Jehu.
It is a wise precaution at the least.
 Some traitor may be plotting to destroy you,
 Some Syrian assassin may be here.
 So take Micaiah’s hint and wear no purple.
Ahab.
A good interpretation. I accept it
 So. I will march disguised.
Jehu.
Much better so.
Ahab.
Micaiah did interpret for my death.
Jehu.
These thinkers are the enemies of war
 Because they are afraid. He wished to scare you,
 Let me unclasp the buckle of your cloak.
 Much wiser give no target to these archers;
 Wear the plain armour of a charioteer.
Ahab.
I will, Duke Jehu. Lie you there, my purple,
 Till I return to-night with victory.
 At sunset every night the Queen and I
 Go through the citron gardens to the kennels,
 To feed our Hittite wolf-hounds with raw flesh.
 To-night when we go feed them, we will go,
 As conquerors of Syria, through the city.

[Exit Ahab.

Jehu.
Right, my good Lord. Yes, you shall be disguised;
 But this bright bird within the quiver here
 Will pierce through your disguise before to-night,
 And you shall feed the wolf-hounds, never fear;
 So shall your Queen, with royal flesh and raw.

(He puts on the King’s purple,)

Oh, out in the desert, my spear and my bow.
 Will win me whatever I need;
 The wine and the oil that another did grow
 And the horse that another did breed.
So away for the desert....
 Ay, I have trotted in your bodyguard
 Too long, by God!

Curtain.

SEVENTH CHORUS

Rose-Flower.

Queen Helen left those women of the wood,
 She clambered from her horse and stood again
 Even on the very hill where Troy had stood,
 Where tamarisk shrubs and broom-sprigs and wild grain
 Sprouted from bronze and rib-bones of men slain.
There was the palace where her love had been;
 Stones blackened by the fire and misplac’d
 By roots of vines that fed upon the paste
 Of all the pride where she had lived a queen.
Troy was no more than weeds and fire-flaked stone,
 But still the straits ran roaring to the south,
 And still the never-quiet winds were blown
 With scent of meadow-sweet from Simois’ mouth.
Moon-Blossom.
Yet no Greeks were moving on the beaches,
 No galleys of the Greeks came oaring in,
 Nor did lancer scouts or parties ride the whin,
 Bringing in or checking convoys from the river’s upper reaches
 Where the forest pines begin.
And the forges were all gone, and all the fires
 Of the camps and burnings of the dead.
 And the grinding of the bronze-shod chariot-tyres
 Rang no more.
 Both in city and on shore
 There were no more shouted orders, clash of arms, or marchers’ tread.
Rose-Flower.
All was manless now, uncared for; both the streams had left their courses.
 There was marsh where corn had grown of old, and there, where Paris lay,
 Was an apple-tree with fruit which fed the now wild Trojan horses,
 That with bright teeth bit each other;
 Earth made Greek and Trojan brother,
 All the passion that had raged there now was dead and gone away.
Moon-Blossom.
Then she cried, “I caused the quarrel that brought death along these beaches,
 I alone made Troy this ruin, I alone, from haste of youth,
 From a women’s bent, that listens to a lie, if it beseeches;
 Now I stand here old and friendless, having nothing but the truth.”
Rose-Flower.
There she stopped, for there before her, in the ruins, stood a stranger;
 “This is changed indeed,” he told her, “since I stood here once before:
 Then it flamed all red to heaven and it rang with death and danger,
 And I stood here with noble Agammemnon,
 In the thunder of the ending of the war.”
Moon-Blossom.
Something in the old man’s bearing made her start and catch her breath.
 “You are Nireus, friend,” she answered. “You are he who brought me here
 When my life and love were dear:
 Then I came to life and loving, now I come to grief and death.
“There is no small grass, in plain or water,
 But grows from the body of one killed
 By the deadly love of me, who am Helen, Leda’s daughter:
 All the young and swift and lovely, all the quick of heart are stilled;
 I was cause of their going to the slaughter.
“Daylong and nightlong their shadows pursue me with evil,
 Haunting my thought in the day, killing my rest in the night;
 Now they have drawn me here; their multitudinous devil
 Bids me die where I sinned.
 I hear their cry in the wind,
 I see their eyes in the light.”
Rose-Flower.
Nireus answered, “Ah, not thus, not so, Queen Helen, surely,
 Are those who died for love of you, to win you or to keep!
 If they gave their lives, they gave them as a man gives frankly, purely,
 Without question, comment or complaint,
 The strong heart equal with the faint,
 All content to see your beauty and to tread hard ways to sleep.
“Now they know that your beauty made them splendid,
 Splendid to the death; for I have seen,
 Seen and talked, beloved Helen, with the souls of those who ended
 In the ruins of this city that has been,
 And they praise your name, they count you still their Queen.
“Now come with me, for the ship waits to receive you,
 The wind is fair for Syme; let us start.
 Here, where long ago I lost you, I retrieve you;
 Let us leave this town of broken heart
 For the peace of Syme Harbour and the mirth of Syme mart,
 And the calm of knowing sorrow at an end,
 And the quiet of the memory of a friend.”
Together.
Then they sailed for Syme Island, and the gods were with their going,
 For their beauty came upon them both, with youth and strength and peace;
 Now they rule and live forever in a spring forever blowing,
 High in Syme where the sun is bright and skylarks never cease.