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 run 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 m 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!
His eyes! his lips! a prince!
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 ssh! 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.
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's gall, remember, if she learns.
(Civa flouts him, but goes to the fountain. The others follow, fill their jugs, 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 secresy
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
And flower lips breathe innocent above her.
But I'll avenge her shame.
Yolanda. On—him?
Hassan. On him!
And—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!
(He is quelled.)
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's in 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!
Yolanda. Not? ah!... then what? 'Twas not his trumpet?
Hassan (after a struggle). No.
And I will lie to you no longer.
Yolanda. You?
Hassan. 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. Here: 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!
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 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. Hah?
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.
But, nothing! for he still is overworn.
And 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 (proudly). 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....
But Time that is e'er-pitiful may pass
Soon over it—
And leave only 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 or 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 coil my brain
Were blind.
Yolanda. As it will be! with 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 ere 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 here?—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 Lusigman.
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, and on his lips
Lore of the east and wonders of the west.
(Camarin appears from garden.)
Ah, and he seeks us now! unwhelmed of it!
Ready of step, impassive, cold! And see—
(He bows, then listens rigidly.)
A flawless courtesy! as 'twere a king's.
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.
(Pauses.)
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 (listening). Whose that anguish? whose?
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 nurst 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!
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
Pendant 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. Aeih! 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 innoculate 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. Aeih——
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 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!
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.)