Kitabı oku: «Yolanda of Cyprus»

ACT I

CHARACTERS

YOLANDA OF CYPRUS

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! Voices at the gates!

[All start up.

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 comes he 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 round 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-ho, 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! (laughs).

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 princes 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.

Alessa. No.

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! no! (holds her) hush!

[Forms appear without.

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 thing you say. —

He is troubling her; be still.

[Stepping out as Berengere enters.

My lady?

Berengere (unwillingly). Yes.

It is time, now, for your lamps,

And for your aves and o'erneeded sleep.

But first I'd know if yet lord Renier —

[Sees Alessa's face.

Why are you pale?

Alessa. I?

Berengere. So – and strange.

Alessa. We have

But put away the distaff and the needle.

Camarin enters.

Berengere. The distaff and the needle – it may be.

And yet you do not seem —

Alessa. My lady – ?

Berengere. Go.

And send me Hassan.

[The women leave.

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 verdure-dream of the seas, unto his house.

'Tis clear, my Berengere!

Berengere. Then, her design?

And, the requital that entices her?

[Rises.

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? By God! the Paphian?

Or she of Venice? (sees Smarda). Now slave! Scythian!

Why do you linger?

Smarda. I am bidden – (snarls) by

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

Your tongue out sudden, if it now has lies.

What of your lady and lord Renier?

Smarda. Off!

Renier enters behind, with Moro.

Hassan. Your 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 she left – 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.

[Hassan goes, confused.

You, Moro, have deferred me; now, I move.

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.

[To Smarda.

Slave, to your lady who awaits me, say

I'm here and now have chosen.

Moro. Do not!

Renier. Chosen.

[Smarda goes.

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. Sir?

Renier. I must know.

Moro. 'Tis of your wife? – Yolanda?

Renier. Name them not.

They've shut me from 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 wrench 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 show suspicions.

[Vittia enters unnoted.

Of whom? – Of whom, and what?

Vittia (lightly). My lord, of women.

[Renier starts and turns.

So does the Holy Church instil 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 – dishonor unrevealed.

[As he recoils.

Hush! there are steps.

[The slave re-enters.

Smarda?

Smarda (quickly). My lady!

Vittia. Speak.

Smarda. I've erred; she's not asleep.

Vittia. Who? – Ah! Yolanda?

Smarda. Yes; she is coming!

Renier. Ha!

Vittia. My lord – !

Renier. I'll stay,

Stay and confront her.

Vittia. Ignorantly? No.

Renier. I'll question her.

Vittia. Blindly, and peril all?

Renier. I will return. You put me off, and off.

[By the loggia, with Moro, he goes; the slave slips out. Yolanda enters, sadly, her gaze on the floor. She walks slowly, but becoming conscious starts, sees Vittia, and turns to withdraw.

Vittia. Your pardon —

Yolanda. I can serve you?

Vittia. If you seek

The women, they are gone.

Yolanda. I do not seek them.

Vittia. Nor me?

Yolanda. Nor any. – Yet I would I might

With seeking penetrate the labyrinth

Of your intent.

Vittia. I thank you. And you shall,

To-night – if you have love.

Yolanda. That thread were vain.

Vittia. I say, if you have love.

Yolanda. Of guile?

Vittia. Of her

You hold as mother, and who is Amaury's.

Yolanda. Were it so simple, all designs that ever

Laired in you, would to my eyes have been as clear

As shallows under Morpha's crystal wave.

Vittia. Unproven you speak so.

Yolanda. And proven would.

Vittia. If so, then – save her.

Yolanda. Who? What do you – ? (stops).

Vittia (with irony). Mean?

It is not clear?

Yolanda. Save her?

Vittia. The surety flies

Out of your cheek and dead upon your heart:

Yet you are innocent – oh innocent! —

O'er what abyss she hangs!

Yolanda. O'er no abyss.

Vittia. But to her lord is constant!

Yolanda (desperate). She is constant.

Vittia. And to his bed is true!

Yolanda. True.

Vittia. And this baron

Of Paphos – Camarin – is but her friend,

And deeply yours – as oft you feign to shield her!

Yolanda. He is no more.

Vittia. Your heart belies your lips,

Knows better than believing what you say.

Yolanda. Were, were he then … (struggles) lord Renier knows it not!

And never must. I have misled his thought

From her to me. The danger thus may pass,

The open shame.

Sir Camarin departed, her release

From the remorse and fettering will seem

Sweet as a vista into fairyland.

For none e'er will betray her.

Vittia. None?

Yolanda. Your tone …!

(Realising.) The still insinuation! You would do it!

This is the beast then of the labyrinth!

And this your heart is!

Vittia. No, not ever: no.

But now, if you deny me.

Yolanda. Speak as a woman,

If there is womanhood in you to speak.

The name of Berengere Lusignan must

Go clean unto the years, fair and unsullied.

Nor must the bloody leap

Of death fall on her from lord Renier's sword,

A death too ready if he but suspect.

No, she is holy!

And holy are my lips

Remembering that they may call her mother!

All the bright world I breathe because of her,

Laughter and roses, day-song of the sea,

Not bitterness and loneliness and blight!

All the bright world,

Of voices, dear as waking to the dead —

Voices of love and tender earthly hopes —

O, all the beauty I was once forbid!

For O! —

She lifted me, a lonely convent weed,

A cloister thing unvisited of dew,

Withering and untended and afar

From the remembered ruin of my home,

And here has planted me in happiness.

Then, for her, all I am!

Vittia. Or – hope to be?

Yolanda. The price, say, of your silence. – I am weary.

Vittia. And would be rid of me.

Yolanda. The price, the price.

Vittia. It is (low and ashamed) that you renounce Amaury's love.

[A pause.

Yolanda. Amaury's love… You then would rend me there

Where not Eternity could heal the wound

Though all the River of God might be for balm!

Cruelty like to this you could not do?

[Waits a moment.

A swallow on the battlements to-day

Fell from the hawk: you soothed and set it free.

This, then, you would not – !

Vittia. Yes.

Yolanda. You cannot!

ACT II

Several Days Have Elapsed

Scene: The forecourt of the castle, beyond which is the garden and in the distance the mountains, under the deep tropical blue of morning. On the right the wall enclosing the castle grounds runs back and is lost in the foliage of cypress, palm, orange; it is pierced by an arched gate with lifted portcullis. On the left rises the dark front of the castle, its arabesqued doorway open. Across the rear a low arcaded screen of masonry, with an entrance to the right, separates the court from the garden. Before it a fountain, guarded by a statue of a Knight of St. John, falls into a porphyry basin. By the castle door, to the front, and elsewhere, are stone seats. Hassan is standing moodily by the screen, left, looking out the portcullis. He starts, hearing steps, and as the old leach Tremitus enters, motions him silently into the castle; then muttering "the old blood-letter," stands as before, while Civa, Maga, and Mauria are heard in the garden, and enter gaily bearing water-jars to the fountain. Civa sees his look and breaks into a twitting laughter. The other two join her.

Civa. Look at him! Maga! Mauria! behold!

Was ever sight so sweet upon the world?

Is he not very Joy?

Mauria (critically). Now, is he not?

With the price of vinegar upon his face.

[All laugh.

The price of vinegar! who'll buy! – Not I!

Not I! Not I! Not I!

Hassan. Wench.

Civa. Verily!

And not a man! he has discovered it!

You're not a man, Mauria! we were duped.

[Mauria slaps her playfully.

But see him now – a mummy of the Nile!

Who died of choler!

Mauria. Then, a care, he'll bite.

He's been in the grave a long while and he's hungry.

A barley-loaf, quick, Maga!

Civa. To appease him!

But s-sh! beware! there's something of import.

[They stop in mock awe before him.

What does he think of?

Mauria. Sphinxes and the spheres.

Civa. Or little ants and gnats that buzz about him.

Mauria. And how to make them smart for sauciness.

Civa. Or of Alessa!

Maga. No, no, Civa! come;

Enough of teasing.

Civa. Of Alessa!

Maga. No.

Your pitcher, come. He's troubled by the tale

Of lady Yolanda —

And waits for lord Amaury from the battle.

Civa. The – ! heigh! heigh-o! awaits! la, la! he does!

[Hassan starts at her tone.

For lord Amaury! does he so indeed?

Hassan. What do you know? Be silent.

Civa. Ho!

Hassan. Itch! would

You have lady Yolanda hear? She comes

Now, as she has this morning thrice, to ask.

[Yolanda appears on the threshold with Alessa.

Lord Renier … remember, if she learns!

[Civa flouts him, but goes to the fountain. The others follow, fill their jars, and, singing, return to the garden. Yolanda then crosses to Hassan, who waits evasive.

Yolanda. My want is still the same – words are unneeded.

Hassan. To know of lord Amaury?

Yolanda. Lord Amaury —

He has not yet returned?

Hassan (loathly). I have not seen him.

Yolanda. Nor heard?

Hassan. Nothing.

Yolanda. I cannot understand.

[Goes to the gate, troubled.

Hassan (low). Liar that I am to say it!

Yolanda. I cannot – cannot!

[Returns.

The Saracens we know were routed to

Their vessels – all the Allah-crying horde.

And lord Amaury – said the courier not? —

Rode in the battle as a seraph might

To the Holy Sepulchre's deliverance.

And yet no word from him.

Hassan. Perhaps – with reason.

[She looks at him quickly – he flushes.

With reason! … knowing, lady, what, here, now,

Is rumoured of a baron

And lady Yolanda!.. Pardon!

Yolanda (slowly). Of a baron

And lady Yolanda.

Hassan. Yes: it is the women

Who with their ears ever at secrecy

Rumour it. But, lady, it is a lie?

This Camarin, this prinker,

Whose purse is daily loose to us… I curse him!

His father… Well, my mother's ten years dead,

Stained, as you know —

And flower-lips breathe innocent above her.

But I'll avenge her doom.

Yolanda. On – whom?

Hassan (points castlewards). On him!

So you, who do not hush this tale of you,

Though it is truthless – hear:

I have a stab for Camarin of Paphos

Whenever he has lived – but say! – too long.

Yolanda (who has listened rigidly. After a pause).

Come here … look in my eyes, and – deeper… Shame!

[Quells him.

Pity alone we owe to sin not blame.

And they who love may stray, it seems, beyond

All justice of our judging. —

Is evil mad enchantment come upon

The portals of this castle?

Hassan. I would serve you.

Yolanda. With murder? no. But if you would indeed,

As oft you have —

Hassan. Lady, I will.

Yolanda. Then watch

The Venetian, and when Amaury comes

Find me at once. What sound was that?.. A bugle?

It is! it is! Alessa! (Overjoyed.) Do you hear?

His troop! Amaury's! O the silver chime!

Again I breathe, I breathe!

My heart as a bird of May!

Amaury!.. Come! we'll go to him! we'll go!

Before any within Lusignan – !

Alessa. Lady!

Yolanda. At once! it rings again! again! we'll go!

Alessa. And tell him?

Yolanda. Warn! Warn him a fever's here

That he must fend his ear from. 'Twill suffice.

And I again shall see him, hear him speak,

Hang on his battle-story blessedly!

And you, Hassan… But why do you stand stone?

You know something… He's dead!

Hassan. No, lady, no.

Yolanda. Not? ah! … then what? 'Twas not his trumpet?

Hassan (after a struggle). No.

And I will lie to you no longer;

Though for obedience it be or life;

And at lord Renier's command… It is

Not true that lord Amaury from the battle

Has not returned.

Yolanda. But he – you mean – is here?

[Stands motionless.

Hassan. He came … on yesterday … at dusk. Was led

Up to his chamber…

So much lord Renier who slipt him in

Revealed, that I might guile you.

Alessa (sharply). And you have?

Hassan. Yes.

Alessa. Though you boasted love to me?

Hassan. Now, woman!

Alessa. Lady, I would have wed him – wed this toad!

[Stingingly.

Who'd kill the Paphian, too!

Hassan. Yes!

Alessa. Worm! with dust?

Heeling away from him?

Yolanda. Be still, be still.

[Alessa turns to her.

These words can wait on what may yet be helped.

This may undo me! First of all I should

Have seen Amaury! Now – !

Hassan. The Venetian!

[They start. Vittia enters from the castle.

Lady, I will go in.

Alessa. And I; to wait.

[They go.

Yolanda (suddenly). But I to see Amaury.

Vittia. What? (stops).

Yolanda. To see,

Vittia Visani, who withholds Amaury —

Who came last night at dusk, as well you know.

[They face, opposed.

What have you told him?

Vittia. Ha!

Yolanda. Insolence, false

And feigning! But no matter; lies are brief.

I'll go myself to him.

Vittia. To be repelled?

Berengere enters.

Yolanda. If he could trust you – but he could not.

Vittia. Knowing

A Paphian ere this has fondled two?

Yolanda. You hear, mother? (To Vittia). Out of my way at once.

Berengere. Stay, stay! She has not told him! nothing!.. Yes,

I too have been aware and kept you blind.

For he was overworn, and still is, much.

But now his wound —

Yolanda. Wound! he is wounded?

Berengere. He sleeps.

Yolanda. And is in danger – jeopardy?

Berengere. In none;

If the leech Tremitus has any skill;

And that you know.

Yolanda. I thank … Madonna … thee!

[Vittia laughs and goes.

But you, mother, are come at last to say

Your promises, broken two days, are kept?

You've spoken? won lord Renier to wisdom?

Pled him to silence which alone can save us?

Dear mother – ?

Berengere. Do not call me so again.

[Turns away.

I have not – and I will not.

Yolanda. Oh!

Berengere. I cannot…

Yolanda. But can leave me so laden here within

This gulf's dishonour? Never!.. So return

And pledge him but to wait!

For this Venetian has now, I bode,

Something of evil more,

When once Amaury hears all that has passed.

Return!

Berengere. I cannot.

Yolanda (stung). Then hear, hear me! I

Too am a woman, and the woman wants,

The beauty and ache and dream and glow and urge

Of an unreckoned love are mine as yours.

I will not lose Amaury; but will tell him

Myself the truth.

Berengere. Then – I'll not stay for death,

And wait for shame. But now with Camarin

Will go from here.

Yolanda. Mother!

Berengere. To some retreat

Away!

Yolanda. Where still pursuit would follow! even,

I fear, Amaury's? —

And overtake you though it were as far

As the sea foams, or past the sandy void

Of stricken Africa? It would be vain.

Vain, and I cannot have you. No, but listen —

[Breaks off seeing Renier, on the castle threshold. His look is on her, but he comes down addressing Berengere.

Renier. She troubles you too much.

Berengere. My lord?

Renier. Too much.

You cherish her and reap unchastity

For gratitude – unchastity against

Our very son who was betrothed to her.

Yet see her shameless.

Berengere (dully). No; I think you wrong her.

[Yolanda moves apart.

Renier. Nobly you pity! But it will not veil her.

Rather the convent and the crucifix,

Matin and Vesper in a round remote,

And senseless beads, for such. – But what more now

Is she demanding?

Berengere. Little.

Renier. Not the means

Still to deceive Amaury?

Berengere. Renier … no.

[Speaks loathly.

But I have a request that, if you grant,

Will lead peace back to us … and from us draw

This fang of fate.

Renier. Ah.

Berengere. Yes.

Renier (slowly). And we might be

As those that wedded love?

Berengere. Perhaps.

Renier. That – love!

[A pause.

Then it shall be, at once… But no, I first

Have a confession.

Berengere. You?

Renier. A pang! – For days

[Takes her hand.

Before I found Yolanda on the breast

Of Camarin of Paphos —

I suffered in the furnace of suspicion

The fume and suffocation of the thought

That you were the guilty one – you my own wife.

[She recoils to Yolanda, who comes up.

I did; but rue, rue it!..

… Yet – it is just

That you recoil even as now you do

From stain upon your wedded constancy…

And time that is e'er-pitiful must pass

Over it —

Before there is forgiveness. And perhaps

Then I shall win you as I never have. —

Now the request.

Berengere. That now … I cannot plead.

[Sees Yolanda harden. Is impelled.

And yet I must… It is that, till I bid,

Amaury may not know of this … not know

This trouble fallen from a night of evil —

Pitiless on us as a meteor's ash.

Renier. Not of it? he? not know?

Berengere. Trust to me.

Renier. How!

And to this wanton's perfidy to bind

Him witless to her – with a charm perhaps —

Or, past releasing, with a philtre? She

Whom now he holds pure as a spirit sped

From immortality, or the fair fields

Of the sun, to be his bride?

Yolanda. Sir, no!.. She means

Not I shall wed him! (Winningly.) Only that you spare

To separate us with this horror; that

You trust me to dispel his love, to pall

And chill his passion from me. For I crave

Only one thing – innocence in his sight.

Believe! – believe!

Renier. I will – that you are mad.

Yet madder I, if to this murk my brain

Were blind.

Yolanda. As it will be! in deadlier dark,

If you attend me not!

And may have destiny you cannot know.

But you will heed?

For somewhere in you there is tenderness.

Once when you chafed in fever and I bore

White orange blossoms dewy to your pillow

You touched my hand gently, as might a father.

[Caresses his.

Once on the tower when alone at dusk

I sang – I know not why – of lost delights,

Of vanished roses that are e'er recalling

May to the world, you came and suddenly

Lifted my brow up silent to your kiss.

Ah, you remember; you will hear me?

Renier. No!

Though you are cunning. – Thus you wove the mesh

About Amaury – till he could not move

Beyond you.

Yolanda. For his sake I ask it.

Renier. For

No sake but to o'ersway him with your eyes

In secret, thus, and with

Your hair that he believes an aureole

Brought with you out of Heaven.

Berengere. Again – wrong.

Renier. So deem you and, my Berengere, I grieve,

Desiring much your peace.

Berengere. It grieves you not.

Renier. Then not! and half I fear – you hear? – it should not.

There's midnight in this thing and mystery.

Does she not love – Camarin?

Yolanda (trembling). Say no more.

Be all – all as you will.

Renier. That brings you low:

But brings to me no light – only again

The stumbling in suspicion.

Yolanda. It should not.

Renier (with a sudden gleam).

To-morrow then, unless Amaury runs

Fitting revenge through Camarin of Paphos,

Your lover, you shall clasp him openly

Before all of Lusignan.

Yolanda. No; no, no!

The thought of it is soil!.. Rather … his death!

Renier. What, what?

Berengere. My lord, she knows not what she says.

The unaccustomed wind of these ill hours

Has torn tranquillity from her and reason.

Yolanda (realising). Yes, as she says – tranquillity and reason.

[Strains to smile.

These hours of ill!

Renier. I'll send her Camarin.

[Goes, looking steadfastly back.

Yolanda (turning, then, to Berengere).

His mood and mien – that tremor in his throat,

Unfaltering. I fear him.

Berengere. Life is fear.

No step was ever taken in the world

But from a brink of danger, or in flight

From happiness whose air is ever sin.

It sickens me.

Yolanda. Mother!

Berengere. Nothing; a pain

Here in my breast.

[Sits.

Yolanda. And it is all through him

Who as a guest came pledged into this house.

Came with the chivalry and manly show

Of reverence and grace, that he too well

Has learnt in cunning lands and used to lure.

[Camarin appears from garden.

Ah, and he seeks us now! unwhelmed of it!

Ready of step, impassive, cold! And see —

[Camarin bows forcedly.

A flawless courtesy! as of a king!

Can he not smile too on his handiwork?

Our days were merciful and he has made

Each moment's beat a blow upon the breast.

Honour was here and innocence lies now

A sacrifice that pain cannot consume. —

Camarin. Or death.

Yolanda. Then have you not, unshameable!

A help for it or healing? you who know

So well the world and its unwonted ways!

A man would have, a man.

Camarin. And I am barren.

My brain an arid waste under remorse.

Only one thing it yields – the love of her

My love has made unholy.

Yolanda. While to me

The shame is left, and silence – no defence,

When it is told Amaury, "See her you

Blest with betrothal and the boon of faith,

Chose as the planet-mate of your proud star!

While, in the battle,

You with the weal of Cyprus on your brow

Dared momently peril,

We found her"… Ah, the memory is fire! —

I will not bear it.

Camarin. Then how? what?.. You must.

Though for your suffering I am pitiful,

You must!

[Takes her wrist.

For to one thing, one only now I'm bent —

That Berengere be saved.

Berengere. To-day … no more.

Camarin. Suspicion and the peril-feet of shame

I must keep from her still.

Yolanda. Though driven o'er

My heart they trample the lone flower of hope.

[Shaking off his hand, then, unnaturally wrought up.

And even now perhaps Amaury hears

And turns away in horror!

Camarin. What? Come, come.

Enough is here without —

Yolanda (as before). I'll go to him!

Despite of them! in to his side and say

That I am innocent – as the first dawn

And dew of Eden!.. Yes!

Camarin. A frenzy! Mere

Folly! you wander!

Yolanda (suddenly). That was anguish? whose?

[Is hauntedly listening.

Camarin. Amaury still is many leagues away —

[Hassan appears.

At Keryneia! Do you hear me?

Yolanda. Hassan!

[Is numb as he hurries down from the castle to her. A pause; then her voice falls hoarsely.

I hear you, speak. His wounds I know. The rest!

They've told him?

Hassan. The Venetian, who nursed him

Last night, pouring his potions —

She and lord Renier. They broke his sleep.

He listened to them as one in a grave.

Then they besought of him

Some oath against you, were they right: he would not.

Now he has risen,

Silent and pale and suffering; in leash.

He's coming here.

Camarin. Why, you are mad!

Yolanda. Be still.

Camarin. Amaury was not then delayed? is – here?

[Voices are heard perturbed within the castle. Then Amaury, putting aside Renier and Tremitus, followed by Vittia and others, enters down.

Amaury. I'll not return unto my couch though twice

These wounds and all your wants were urging it!

Yolanda! my Yolanda! – Never, never!

[Takes her to him.

Until I prove you that a word against

Her that I hold here in my arms is more

To me than any peril.

Tremitus. But, sir – !.. Aeih!

My precious physic wasted!

Amaury. Till I prove it!

For … my Yolanda!..

You who are purity if Mary still

Is mother of God and lighteth Paradise!

You in whose presence I am purged as one

Bathing a thousand years in angel song!

They say, you, who are stainless to my eyes

As is the sacring-bell to holy ears,

So undefiled even the perfect lily

Pendent upon your breast fears to pollute it!

Listen, they tell me you – A fool, a fool

Would know it unbelievable and laugh.

Renier. As now a fool is doing?

Amaury. O, sir, pardon.

You are my father, and, I must believe,

Mean well this monster breath's unchastity,

As does this lady (of Vittia) who has gently nursed me.

But you were tricked; it was illusion swum

Before your sleep. Therefore my purpose is

Now to forget it.

Tremitus. Aieh! and to return

Now to my drugs.

Renier. Stand off! – As dogs forget

The lash in hunger of the wonted bone?

[Laughs angrily.

Amaury. A poison so incredible and dark

You cannot duped inoculate me with.

Trust in my veins makes of it but more love.

And to dispel your minds (goes to Camarin) I'll clasp his hand

Whom you have so accused.

Vittia. O do, my lord!

[Smiles disdainfully.

And then embrace him in whose arms three nights

Ago she was embraced.

Yolanda (to her). Can you so say!

Vittia. Yes, and will add —

Amaury. Lady of Venice, nothing!

But this to all, I answer! —

There is my mother, see,

Wounded with wonder of this plight, and pity.

Yolanda has dwelt by her

As the fawn

By the white doe on mount Chionodes.

I would as quick believe that she had given

Her holiness up to contamination

As that Yolanda —

Yolanda. Amaury, enough!.. I know!

Amaury. As quickly!

Yolanda. Then … quell this delirium!

[A pause.

Out of your thought forever let it fall,

Hear no more of it, ever!

Be deaf to it as to a taunt of doom,

In triple mail to every peaceless word,

Granite against even its memory.

Say that you will, and now!..

Renier. So that you may

Allure him yet to wed you?

Amaury. Sir!

Renier. She would.

Yolanda. No, no! But let him… Then I will go far

Away from here to any alien air,

To opiate India, a lost sea-isle!

To the last peak of arid Caucasus.

Renier. With Camarin of Paphos?

Yolanda. With whoever

Your peace and this compelling pain… Ah no!

Renier. With him, with him, I say?..

Amaury. You drive and drain her.

To me her words shall be – me and no other.

So my Yolanda now dissolve the cling

Of this invisible but heavy hydra;

I've striven with it till no more I can.

If any tare has been unseemly sown

Upon the April vision of our love,

Say it at once that I may rend and fling it

Away from us. Say it!

Renier. Vainly implored. —

Yet ask her this, If she three nights ago —

Amaury. I will not so insult her.

Tremitus. Aieh —

Renier. Insult?

She knows what I would bid and does she hurl

Her soul in any disavowal?

Amaury. I

Will speak to her alone. Go, all of you,

There to the fountain.

Yolanda. Yes, Amaury, then

One searching of my face shall free your fear.

Alone, alone.

Renier. Still to befool him!

Yolanda (warningly). Choose!

I cannot suffer more of this.

Amaury. Nor I

To breathe ever the burning of this mist

Of anguish and insatiate accusal. —

This wound upon my throat, fever it not

With longer fire of doubt, Yolanda.

Yolanda. Ah!

Berengere. I am not well. I will go to my chamber.

[She passes into the castle.

Renier. But I never until this guiler grants

I found her in the arms of Camarin,

Drinking the frenzied wine of passion

He poured from his soul.

Amaury. Yolanda?

Renier. She is silent;

Dumb to deny it.

Amaury. But she will, she will.

You've driven her with dread and awe.

Vittia (lightly). And truth?

Amaury. Have wounded her. But do not fear, Yolanda;

Fiercely disown.

Yolanda. Amaury … it is true.

[He staggers slowly back.

No, no; I have not been faithless to you —

Even a moment

To the divinity of love high-altared

Here in my breast! to the immutable

Beauty of it! … look, look not on me so —

As if I had struck, murdered a little child!

Or palsied one who put a hand to help me;

Or through eternity had desecrated,

Vainly, virginity and trust and truth!

No, my Amaury! I … do you not see?

[Hysterically.

Not faithless, hear! it is not true! not true!

But only this —

Camarin. Yolanda!

Yolanda. I —

Camarin. Yolanda!

[A moment, then she sinks down, her face in her hands. Amaury groans; then starting goes fiercely to Hassan, and taking his sword recrosses trembling to Camarin.

Amaury. The day you first set step in Lusignan

An image of the Magdalen within

The chapel yonder fell – presaging this.

Only your death, your death or mine stands pale

Between us now, awaiting silently.

Draw, and at once.

Camarin. Amaury, I will not.

Amaury. Out, quickly.

Camarin. Do your will. I'll put no more

To the guilt I bear, or to the misery

That guilt has brought upon you.

Amaury. Coward!

Camarin. Strike!

Amaury. You play a part! (Raves.) And 'tis that you may live

Still in the love that you a thief have stolen.

So, with your steel – !

Camarin. It stays within its sheath.

Amaury. Then I will not be thwarted though I must

Crush you as one a viper with his heel,

Though I must take your leper throat into

My hands and strangle life from it!

For the same sky you breathe I will not.

The sun that falls upon you shall not foul

My being —

Though I must go down into hell for it.

[He starts, frenzied, to strike, but suddenly staggers; then clasps at his throat, drops the sword, and sinks down moaning.

Yolanda. His wound!

Tremitus. Aeih, aeih! at last.

Yolanda. Amaury! Oh!

[Runs to him. He struggles to his feet.

Amaury! Amaury!

Amaury. Stand away from me.

[She falls back; he laughs in derision.

I to believe her pure as my own mother!

Vittia. Had you but trusted me, Amaury.

Amaury. You?

[Looks long at her.

Henceforth I will.

Vittia. And wholly?

Amaury (significantly). She … shall do it.

[Starts into the castle.

Yolanda (dauntedly). Amaury! what is this?

Vittia. That, ere a dawn,

Guileless Yolanda, you shall wed with him

Your paramour of Paphos —

Yolanda. Camarin?

Vittia. And from these gates be led wanton away.

[Yolanda, for a moment whelmed, tries to laugh scorn; but, turning, her eye meets Renier's full of suspicion. He follows Amaury meaningly into the castle.

Curtain

ACT III

The Same Day

Scene: The Hall and loggia of Act I; but toward sunset, and afar, on the flushed sea, are seen the fisher-boats returning pale-winged to shore. In the left distance, also, a portion of Famagouste is visible above the waves – its orient walls and towers, white domes and houses, interspersed with tall palms. The interior of the Hall is the same; only the divan is placed to the front and left, the lectern near the balcony leading to the sleeping apartments and to the chapel. Smarda is lying lithely on the divan, beguiled with her charms and amulets, and from time to time giving a low, sinuous laugh. Vittia enters, watches a moment, thoughtful, then advances.

Vittia. Smarda —

Smarda (springing up). Lady … your slave!

Vittia. I think you are.

Think that you are – if ever the leopard yields.

Smarda. To you, lady? A-ha! let him refuse.

Command!

Vittia. And you will heed it well; I fear not.

But first I have thought of requital.

Smarda (avidly). Ouie!

Vittia. Those amulets you wear, of jade and sard —

Smarda (quickly dark). Are for revenge – to bring revenge!

Vittia. And from

Your Scythian home, over the hated sea,

They came with you.

Smarda. Yes.

Vittia. From the home whence you

Were torn by the Moor who was your one-time master.

Is it not so?

Smarda. The spirits strangle him!

[Works at the charms.

Vittia. Well, if I win to-night what is begun

You shall not want, to-morrow,

Gold for a weightier witchery upon him.

[The slave's eyes gleam.

But listen, every sinew will be needed

Still to achieve this wedding, though we have

Camarin with us, willing. So I've learned

A ship has come from Venice.

Smarda (quickly). Pietro?

Vittia. Yes, Pietro, it must be, has arrived

With papers that will help.

Smarda. Ha! Fortune's touch!

Vittia. It is, but tardy. Therefore I must have

Them instantly.

Smarda. Ere he has time, lady,

To vaunt his loves, in Lusignan, and babble.

Vittia. As, wooing dolt, he will. But see to it.

I shall be in this place with lord Amaury,

Whom I must … but no matter.

He left me suddenly a season since

Seeing his father look strangely upon

His mother; for lord Renier's doubt I still

Have been compelled to feed – to move Yolanda.

Here in this place then I shall be, at need.

[She goes engrossedly.

Smarda (recalling the pledge; evilly). A-ha! ha-ha! ha-ha! if she but win!

A talisman with might upon the Moor!

[Begins to dance – a charm held up before her.

If she but win! a-ha! a curse on him!

[Whirls faster with a wild grace, swaying to and fro, and chanting softly the while, till suddenly a laugh in the corridor stops her, and Pietro is heard through the curtains adoring Civa, who pushes him into the Hall, then runs away laughing.

Pietro (after her). Hold, fair one! Stay! You look on Pietro

Of Venice! Pietro!

Smarda (to herself). A-ha … ha-ha!

Pietro (turning). It is the slave! (Grandly.) I greet you, slave.

Smarda. Greeting!

Pietro. I, Pietro, who, as you know, am sought

By all the loveliest

Attending on the lords and high of Venice.

Smarda. So!.. So!

Pietro. "The gentle Pietro," they say.

You may remember.

Smarda. So.

Pietro. "Proud Pietro!"

And then they sigh.

Smarda. So.

Pietro. Then they weep and pine —

"For Pietro" – until I must console them.

Smarda (going to where he poses; contemptuously).

And for all this, O prince of paramours,

[Spurns him.

My lady no doubt has bid you to sail from Venice?

Pietro. Eh?

Smarda. Eh! And she will hear no doubt with love

That you delay the powers of the Senate

Sent in your keeping to her?

Pietro. Slave! … (alarmed) the papers?

Smarda. With love and with delight? since she awaits them?

With joy? When told your amorous mouthings yonder?

Pietro. Slave, she must never! You will take them to her!

[Fumbles for papers.

In to her … quickly!..

Dear slave, you will – and say if she inquire

That I was led astray

By the little Cyprian with guiling eyes

Who fell enamoured of me at the gate.

Smarda. Civa!

Pietro. The same! I sought to run away,

[Still searching.

O slave, say to her, but I could not for —

For – for a lady by the marble knight,

That is, by the fountain, swooned, as I came in.

And then —

Smarda. Swooned!

Pietro. As I came!

Smarda (a-quiver). Beside the fount?

Who? which? lady Yolanda? lady Berengere?

[He stares at her ardour.

Did no one say?.. My mistress must know this!

The papers, quickly!

Pietro. Slave, you – ! By my sins!

[She has seized them swiftly, and gone. He follows amazed. Then sunset begins without, crimson and far; and Amaury appears from the loggia, reckless and worn. He pauses, looks about him, troubled.

Amaury. Not here yet… There is more in this than seems.

[Goes to divan and sits. Vittia enters behind.

More, Camarin of Paphos, than is clear!

[Starts up.

And she must tell me! (Sees Vittia.) Lady, you I mean.

[Vittia advances inquiringly.

What is beyond this shame upon Yolanda?

Vittia. My lord – ?

Amaury. What! It is moving in me clouded,

Deeper than sight but pressing at my peace.

My father's look! you saw it!

Vittia. Ah!

Amaury. And saw

Fear in my mother!

Vittia. Yes, implanted deep.

Amaury. And did not wonder?

Vittia (sits). When I knew its source?

No need, my lord – though your pang too I marked —

For, trust me, ere to-morrow all will cease —

If you are firm.

Amaury. I? who know nought? In what?

Vittia. That do not ask, I pray. (Deftly.) Another could

Fitly reply, but I —

Amaury. No other better!

Vittia. Then … it will cease, my lord —

So as a flail of doubt it should not still

Beat in you – when Yolanda

Is wed with Camarin … no, do not speak;

The reason for your sake I must withhold.

Amaury. Though as under sirocco I am kept.

[Sits.

Sirocco!.. It is unintelligible!

[Rises. A pause.

Yet you speak gently.

Vittia. No; unblushingly!

[He looks surprised.

Unblushingly to one who knows – though by

A chance – my love to him – my lowered love.

[Turns away.

And yet I cannot rue

That he awaking sudden from the potion

Surprised yearning and truth upon my lips.

No, and I would that gentle words might be

As waters of enchantment on his grief. —

But of Yolanda —

[Rises.

Amaury. Still I love her, still!

Vittia (strainedly). As well she knows, so may refuse to wed

With Camarin.

Amaury. She?

Vittia. Since you are Lusignan,

Heir of a sceptred line,

And yet may reach – the realm.

Amaury (pierced). Which … do you mean,

She hopes of?

Vittia. Were it folly to make sure?

[A pause.

Amaury. How? speak.

Vittia. Again unshameful? No; one thing

Alone would serve you. That I must not bring

My tongue to falter.

Amaury. Be it so.

Vittia. And yet …

[He has turned away.

Yet I must bend to! and, my lord, I will!

Will … for you suffer!

Will, though indelicacy seem to soil

Whatever bloom I boasted.

[Goes to him.

It is this:

To let her … but for to-day …

Think you … for she's aware of my affection …

Have chosen – to wed me.

Amaury. You!

Vittia. For to-day.

To-morrow I return to Venice, then

Denial.

Amaury (moved). Lady – ?

Vittia. I will bear it.

Amaury. … Thus?

[Struggles.

Then it shall be. And grateful I'll await

The issue's utterance. And stay, wear this —

[Takes off a ring.

From her dead father's hand —

As a proof to her of any tie soever.

But now – for the sails make home along the sea —