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——
Smarda. Of jade—and sard!
Vittia. And which
You prize so——
Smarda. From my home in Scythia
Across the sea (darkening) they came with me.
Vittia. The home
Whence you were torn by the Moor who was your master.
(Sees Smarda snarl.)
Is it not so?
Smarda. The spirits strangle him!
(Works lividly at the charms.)
Vittia. Well, if I win to-night what is begun
You shall not want, I think,
Of gold for 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 of love in Lusignan and babble.
Vittia. A wooing dolt! but safe—because he fears.—
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's look
Strangely upon his mother: for that doubt,
His father's, still I've been compelled to feed,
To move Yolanda.—
Here I shall be, then, here within this place.
(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!
(Turns.)
Smarda. Pietro!
Pietro. Slave! (Vainly.) I greet you.
(Bows grandly.)
Smarda. A-ha!... So!
Pietro. I, Pietro, as you see,
Who, you're aware, am sought
Of all the loveliest
Attendant on the lords and high of Venice.
Smarda. Yes.... Ha!
Pietro. "The gentle Pietro," they say.
You may remember.
Smarda. Ha!
Pietro. "Proud Pietro!"
And then they sigh.
Smarda. Sigh. But you've papers—
Pietro. Then—
They weep and pine—until I must console them.
Smarda (going to where he poses; contemptuously). And for all this, O prince of paramours,
(He is startled.)
My lady has no doubt bid you to sail
From Venice.
Pietro. Slave?
Smarda. And she will hear with love
That you delay the powers of the Senate
Sent in your keeping to her.
Pietro. She!
Smarda. Oh, with
(As he twitches.)
Love and delight—for urgently she waits them!
And then—then of your amorous mouthings yonder!
Pietro. You will not, slave! but quickly take them to her,
The papers ... quickly!
(Fumbles for them.)
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——
Smarda. Swooned!
Pietro. She did.
Out by the fountain.
Smarda. As you came? 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, and is gone. He follows amazed. Sunset begins without, crimson and far. Amaury appears from the loggia, reckless, 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 it 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!
(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.
(Turns away.)
And yet I cannot rue
That he awaking sudden from the potion
Surprised the dew of it 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). No ... not for that
Her hope was?
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.)
My lord, my lord, I will!
Will ... for you suffer!
Will, though indelicacy seem to soil
What bloom I boasted.
Let her think ... let her,
But for to-day,
That 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. Yes.
Amaury. This is most kind.
(She waits repressed—as he struggles.)
Kind; I will do it.
Vittia. Will?
Amaury. Grateful, intent
For the issue's utterance. And this wear you,
This token of our race,
(Takes off his ring.)
For a proof to her of any tie soever.
(He puts it on Vittia's finger.)
But now—for the sails make home along the sea—
Now of my mother.
Vittia. More, my lord?
Amaury. This only;
(Smarda glides in.)
To-morrow ... Scythian!
Vittia. Who! My lord?...
(Sees the slave's look, which stirs him.)
Smarda!
Why are you here?... Those papers—but your lips!
(Takes the papers.)
Not these alone have brought you thus; then what?
(Follows Smarda's eye.)
Of lord Amaury?
Smarda. Of his mother.
Vittia. How!
Smarda. She swooned of terror at the castle gate. She lies in danger. Hear—'twas as she fled The lord of Lusignan.
Amaury. My father?
Smarda. He. And you are sought below, I heard it said: Some officer of Famagouste—and men.
(Amaury turns dazed and goes.)
Vittia (with fervour, then—yet awed).
This is again fortune!... fortune!
Smarda. Lady?
Vittia. Is! though an instant since it seemed disaster.
Vittia. Yolanda, does she know?
Smarda. Nothing.
Nothing. She was returning from the rocks
Where nest the windy gulls (gloatingly)
As I came hither. I stole there at noon
To see her suffer.
Vittia. Then.—I can compel her.
She will come here. Go to the curtains, see.
If she is near, the Paphian is in
The bower by the cypress: go, tell him,
The loggia—at once ... Ah!
(Yolanda enters.)
Yolanda (to herself). "Ah" indeed.
(Her look of purpose changes to one of distrust. But she firmly fronts to Vittia, as the slave slips out.)
Vittia. My gratitude! I wished, and you are here.
Yolanda. And—for some reason of less honour—you.
Vittia. I, a dear guest? fa!
Yolanda. Were you! and not one
This ne'er-before-envenomed air would banish.
(Slowly) One whose abiding
These walls would loathe aloud—had they a tongue
To utter.
Vittia. Yet I may be mistress of them,
Ere all is done—since still it is my purpose.
Yolanda. Gulfs wide as the hate of God for infamy
Would lie preventing; so there is no fear.
(Sits.)
Yolanda. A deeper than disdain.
Vittia. Or than your love of Camarin of Paphos!
Yolanda. Which you would feign, but cannot.
Vittia. Still, before
Evening is done, you will become his wife?
Yolanda. If, ere it come, all under Lusignan
Do not look scorn on Vittia Pisani.
(Rises.)
Vittia. What! how?
Yolanda. Plentiful scorn! (With joy.) A thing may still
Be done to lift my hope out of this ruin!
To bring Amaury grateful to my feet!
And I will do it.
Vittia. Tell?... vowing him first
To win his father's lenience?... No ... I see!
You would when she who's guilty
And this enamoured Paphian are fled!
(Yolanda turns pale.)
When they are fled! ha ... And it is too late.
Yolanda. Too—? You by some trick—a trick have—!
Vittia. Hindered? Little
I needed ... Her wings are flightless. She is ill,
Verging—go learn!—to death.
Yolanda. No!
Vittia. To the grave.
And you alone, she knows, can put it far—
Since she is numbed and drained
Momently by the terror of her husband,
Whose every pulse seems to her a suspicion.
Yolanda. And it is you ... you who have urged again
His doubt that would have sunk!
Vittia. It was enough
Merely to sigh—and fear her innocence
Can only seem simple again as dew
If you wed freely Camarin of Paphos.
Yolanda. And that, you could! though in her heart remorse
Trampled and tore!
Though with the wounds of battle he you "love"
Is livid still.
Vittia. And grieves?—Be comforted!
For he is—now security has come.
(Shows ring; Yolanda falls back.)
As he is, do not fear.
Yolanda. Amaury!... Oh!
He is not! no, Amaury!... He? so soon?—
Ah, you are merciless!
Vittia. Only aware
How to compel your pity to my ends;
For you will spare his mother.
Yolanda. Yielding—still,
And past all season of recovery?
Shattering love for ever at my feet?
No, you are duped. For empty, cold are the veins
Now of submission in me; numb and dead
The pleading of it. And upon you, back,
I cast the burden of your cruelty.
(Slowly.)
And—if she dies in terror of the lips
Of Renier Lusignan—on your peace
The guilt be!
Vittia. No.
Yolanda. The heaping mass of horror!
Vittia (moved). No, on her own; for she has sinned.
Yolanda. And suffered!
But you——
Vittia. I say her own. I've done no crime.
And you will wed him.
Yolanda. Were I Venetian!
But am not; so remorse has come in you!
There at the gates that guard your rest you hear
Dim now the risen phantom cries of it,
The presage beat of them like hungry hands
That will o'erwhelm you!
All that I could to spare her I have done;
All that was duty and of love the most.
But you it was who struck and kindled first
Within Lord Renier fire of suspicion.
Then yours the penance!
Vittia. Liar!... ah ... enough.
(Recovers herself.)
A babe I am so to be fed with fright.
You—well I know—will not desert her thus
To ... the medusa of his doubt.
Yolanda. I will not.
(With exultance.)
Will, will not, will not, will not!
But you it is—
For in the worst that live there still is heaven!—
Must null his doubt and ease the sobbing ebb
And flood of her sick spirit; you who must
Go to his fear and with persuasion say
That it is folly of him and of you
So to suspect her, since in Camarin's
Arms I was found. You will!
Vittia. And—then go pray?
(Draws out the papers scornfully.)
Rather I'll bring you this:—Authority
Sent me of Venice
To make Amaury lordly over Cyprus,
Or to abase him even of Famagouste;
Which I will do—
(Goes to her.)
Unless I have the pledge that you will wed,
Though not to be his wife and free to leave him,
This Paphian,
And with him from Lusignan hence will pass,
(Camarin appears on loggia.)
And he has come now for your answer.
Yolanda. Here!
In league with you! in this!
Vittia. Most loyally;
And ready skilfully to disavow,
With every force, your innocence—if you
Attempt betrayal!—
Enter, my lord of Paphos—
(Camarin enters desperately.)
I have spoken.
She has not pledged to wed you—though the life
Of Berengere Lusignan fall for it,
And though Amaury ... But you may avail.
(Moves off. Yolanda stands silently between them. Camarin looks at her, falters, then turns on Vittia.)
Camarin. As an anchorite for immortality,
Venetian, I covet this—covet!
Yet ... I will not entreat it of her.
Vittia. What!
Camarin. I swore in dread, but will not!
Vittia. Now!
Yolanda (low). Madonna!
Vittia. Now you refuse?
Yolanda. He does—he does!
Vittia. The whole?
Yolanda. Lady of Venice, yes; for very shame!
(With grave joy.)
Bitterly tho' it be, he must, for shame!
Though he would waste the air of the world to keep
The breath still in the veins
Of her his love so wronged,
He cannot ask me more than breast can bear
Knowing I have already borne for her
Infection worse than fetid marshes send
From Mesaoria—
Have lost the sky of love that I had arched
And all the stars of it. See, he is dumb!—
He cannot.
Camarin (coldly). No; but to your heart I leave her
And to your pity.
Yolanda. Say not pity to me!
(The word overwhelms her anew.)
Am I not needy, fain of it, and can
Endurance ever dure!
What have I left
Of joy to ripple in me or of light
To sway me to forgetting—I to whom
Dawn was enchanted incense once, and day,
The least of earth, an ides of heaven bliss.
What to me left! to me!
Who shepherded each happy flock of waves
Running with silvery foaming there to shore,
Who numbered the little leaves with laughing names
Out of my love,
And quickened the winds with quicker winds of hope,
That now are spent ... as summer waters,
Leaving my breast a torrent's barren bed.
Pity and pity! ever pity! No.
(Enter Hassan.)
A nun to pity I will be no more.
But you, cruel Venetian ... Ah, ah,
Mother of God! is there no gentleness
In thee to move her and dissolve away
This jeopardy congealing over us?
(A pause.)
Vittia. You see, none.
Yolanda. Ah, for sceptre and for might
Then to compel you.
Vittia. Still, there is none.
Yolanda. None ...
(Sinks to a seat in despair.)
Yet could I think!
Hassan. Lady Yolanda—
(Advances.)
Yolanda. Were
My brain less weary!
Hassan. Lady Yolanda—
Yolanda. Well?
Hassan. There is a means—a might.
Yolanda. Well?
(Is half heedless.)
Hassan. To compel her.
Yolanda. To ... what?
Hassan. If you will dare it.
Yolanda. Will—?
Hassan. I swear.
Yolanda (rising). Your thought! I have no fear.
Hassan. Then ... let me but
Seize her and shut her fast an hour within
The leprous keep, and she shall write whate'er
You order; then upon a vessel quick
Be sent to Venice whence she came.
Camarin. Mad! mad!
Venice would rise!
Hassan. And Cyprus, to be free!—
But 'tis not, lady! and Lord Renier
Shall have a letter of her guile and flight.
Venture it, venture!
Yolanda (after a long pause). If it can be done,
It shall be.
Hassan. Ah!
Yolanda. And must be.
Vittia. Fools, to me!
(She stands defensive, as Hassan prepares to close in.)
Yolanda. Quickly, and take her.
Hassan. Now.
Camarin (with sudden horror). No!... Sateless God!
(His eyes are fixed on the balcony.)
See, see!... Berengere! Oh! fury of hell!
(They look and fall back appalled. For slowly down the steps comes Renier following Berengere, whose eyes turn back in fluttering trance upon him.)
Yolanda. Ah!... he will kill her! Stop, my lord! mother!
Lord Renier!
(Runs; takes Berengere in her arms.)
Cold is she, stony pale,
And sinking!... Go away from her, go go!
Renier. No ... she shall tell me.
Yolanda. Mother!... Tell you that
You are her murderer?
Renier. The truth!
Yolanda. The truth!
(Laughs bitterly, and at a loss, as if amazed. Then, almost against her will, led, to the end—)
It is suspicion! is that mad suspicion
That you have had of her.
Renier. It is! It is!
Yolanda. And—all because I have these days delayed
To wed with Camarin.
Renier. Delayed?
Yolanda. Because
I show befitting shame that I was here
Found in his arms ... when to Amaury
I was betrothed!
Renier. Power of—! No!
Yolanda. Because
I grieve to leave Lusignan, this my home—
Where I have dwelt as under tented love—
Though I am bidden.
Renier. This can be?
Berengere (faintly). Yolanda!
Renier. I say—only delayed? and you—?
Yolanda. Yes, yes.
Now I will wed him, heedless, wantless, wild.
Send for the priest and for Amaury, for
Laughter and lights and revelry—for all
Within this castle. But first to her bed,
And to tranquillity,
She must be borne, she your cold violence
Has driven here.... Alessa—Tremitus!
(They have entered.)
Lead her within. O mother! piteous mother!——
Ah, it was ruthless, kindless!
Renier. We shall see.
(To Hassan.)
Bid Moro and Amaury.—As for her,
I soon may come and seek forgiveness.
Berengere. No!
(Hassan goes.)
My brain and breath!... the pall ... where am I ... how
Long must I lie!...
Tremitus. She speaks to visions. So,
So can the blood do—trick us utterly!
(He supports her—with Alessa—slowly up steps and off. Yolanda covers her eyes. Hassan returns with Moro, then, and Amaury, whose look seeks Vittia.)
Yolanda (as all stand silent).
Speak, speak, and tell him!
Renier. Yes, Amaury ... you
Are sent for to behold Yolanda wed,
As you commanded,
Here unto Camarin. Shame has till now
Withheld her, but ... what ails you?
Amaury. On; go on.
The sudden blood up to my wounds.
Renier. It has,
I say, withheld her. But she now has chosen.
Amaury. So; and ... it is well. And here are her
Vows I have kept—
(Takes a packet from his breast.)
Vows and remembrances ... I shall aspire—
(Hands it; she lets it fall.)
That I may loathe her not o'ermuch; and to
Muffle my sword from him that now she weds.
(His voice breaks tonelessly.)
Come, let it be.
Yolanda. Amaury!
Amaury (angrily.) Priest, be brief!
Moro (before them; as Camarin takes Yolanda's hand).
The Church invests me and the powers of
This island here to make you man and wife.
Be joined, ye who have sinned,
In soul, peace and repentances for ever.
(He signs the cross. Yolanda stands dazed. A silence. Then a shuddering cry and all turn toward the balcony, where Alessa bursts, pale, wild, and striving to speak.)
Yolanda (with dread, awe, premonition). Alessa!
Alessa. Lady Yolanda! you have wed him?
Yolanda (pausing.) Yes.
Alessa. Lady Berengere is dead.
Yolanda. No!... No!
(Chokes rebelliously.)
It cannot be! mother! cannot! awake her!
And tell her I have wed him! mother! cannot!
(Goes trembling, belieflessly, up the balcony. A strange doubt seizes Amaury. On the rest is silence, consternation, and fear.)