Chorus.
In the troubled dreams a slave has, ere I waken
I can see my city shining as of old,
Roof and column of the Temple wreathed in gold;
And the ramparts proud as erst, before the town was taken,
And the well-loved living shapes that now are cold.
Then I wake, a slave, and houseless and forsaken,
Chained, an outcast, and a chattel, bought and sold.
Now, for us, no future, but the corn-mill and the stranger
In the foeman’s house for ever.
And the cold eyes of a master and the cruel eyes of danger,
And the memory of joys returning never.
We who once were dainty ones and splendid,
Now are slaves who grind the mill beneath a master’s blows;
Would that when our fathers ended, we had ended,
That we lay in Zion’s soil, at peace with those.
All.
O lamentation, misery, woe, woe!
Here, from our prison gate, we see again
The never-ending sand, the Persian plain,
The long, long road, the stones that we should tread
Were we but free, to our beloved dead.
And in the Spring the birds fly to the west
Over these deserts that the mountains hem,
They fly to our dear land; they fly to nest;
We cannot go with them.
And in Springtime from the windows of the tower
I can see the wild horses in the plain,
Treading stately but so lightly that they never break the flower,
And they fade at speed to westward and they never come again.
And in Springtime at the quays the men of Tyre
Set their ships towards the west and hoist their sail,
And our hearts cry “Take us with you to the land of our desire!”
And they hear our cry but will not take the crier:
The crying of a slave can be of no avail.
Birds, horses, sailors, all are free to go
To seek their homes beyond the wilderness:
But we, the homeless, only know
Weariful days of wearing-out distress.
O lamentation, misery, woe, woe!
Shall we be ever exiled, must it be
That we must pass our days as slaves for ever?
Far from our pleasant land, and never see
Our sacred Hills and Jordan’s blessed river?
Shall we not see again thy ramparts rise,
O Zion, and thy splendid towers rebuilt,
And God’s great Temple set for sacrifice
By this our race, atoning for our guilt?
Or must our weary footsteps no more tread
The land we love, where those we loved are dead?
No, we shall see that lovely land no more,
Nor anything we loved there, place or friend,
Nor do, nor know, the things we hungered for.
Like darts out of God’s Hand our deaths descend
To make an end.
Now we can crouch and pray and count the hours
Until our murderers’ feet are on the stair,
And bright steel spirts the blood upon our hair
And lays us motionless among the flowers,
White things that do not care.
And afterwards, who knows what moths we’ll be
Flying about the lamps of life at night
In death’s great darkness, blindly, blunderingly?
The brook that sings in the grass knows more delight,
The ox that the men pole-axe has more peace
Than prisoners’ souls; but now there comes release;
We shall go home, to death, to-morrow night.
O lamentation, misery, woe, woe!
Curtain.
ACT II
[Ahasuerus on his couch.]
Ahasuerus.
What is the time? I hear the water drip
Telling the time; and all the Court is still,
Still as the midnight; not a footstep stirs
Save the slow sentry on the palace wall.
No glow of light is in the eastern heaven;
The barren, dwindled moon her ruddy horn
Heaves o’er the tree-tops; it is midnight, sure.
I see Orion falling, and the Dog
Bright at his heels. Deep midnight. Not a sound
Save the most patient mouse that gnaws the wainscot.
[He rises and walks.]
O weary Time, I cannot sleep to-night.
All still, all sleep, save only I the King.
And that great city at the palace foot
Lies sleeping; yet a strange fear troubles me
That some there do not sleep, but prepare evil;
Evil against myself, against the King.
Those foreigners whom Haman told me of,
The Jews, who are to die, as Haman urged.
Excellent Haman, guardian of my throne.
It may be that this warning comes too late.
What if those Jews be coming even now
By the black alleys of that sleeping city
Into my palace, up the guarded stairs
From floor to floor, along the corridors,
Stealthily, with masked eyes, with bated breath,
On tiptoe to the threshold of my room.
That captain of my guard has eyed me strangely
These two nights now; he had an evil look.
He smiled, but still, his eyes they did not smile.
Where is my sword? It’s here. Look at that door.
It moved. Was that the wind? Who stands without?
I see you standing there. Come in there, you.
Who is it?
Guard [Off].
The great King’s guard is here.
God save the King! And may he live for ever!
Ahasuerus.
Give me a cup of drink. I thirst. I thank you.
You men were sleeping when I called for you.
Sing, that I know you watching till I sleep.
[The Soldiers hum and sing together.
Ahasuerus settles to his sleep again.
He rouses up and walks again.]
There is a something evil in this room;
I seem to give it power by lying down.
It is as though the dark were full of souls
That wait till I am helpless and then come
Out of the corners, out of the air itself,
About my body; but, being up, they fly.
See, there is nothing here. I pass my hand—
[He goes round feeling the walls.]
Here, here, and here. I do not like that corner:
Is the thing there? The shadow on the wall
Is like the black head of an African
Thrown back in mockery, and it seems to move—
To move a little forward. It is but shadow.
Yes, you are only shadow on the wall,
Not what you thought.
And yet I know this room
Is living with the spirits of evil things;
Spirits of evil things that I have done.
It is so difficult to be a King,
To wear the crown and to be ringed with death;
To order “Thus,” with little time to think,
No time to know, but to be just, far-seeing,
Wise, generous, strict and yet most merciful,
As though one knew.
Now one by one they come,
Those plotters who defied me, whom I killed,
Crucified, burned, impaled, or tore with horses,
Men who with white lips cursed me, going to death.
[He turns.]
Yes, you pale ghosts, I mastered you in life,
And will in death. I hold an Empire up,
A thing that IS; no glimmering dream of boys
Or what might be, but will not till men change;
No phantom Paradise of vengeance glutted
By poor men upon rich men, but a world
Rising and doing its work and lying down
Because my fierceness keeps the wolves at bay.
And yet, those Jews, even at my palace door,
So Haman said, have had my death contrived.
What if that captain be in league with them?
Guard! Is Hydaspes there?
Guard.
He is here, great King. Hydaspes, the King calls.
[Hydaspes enters.]
Hydaspes.
Lord! Do you call?
Ahasuerus.
Come in. Let fall the hanging. Come you there
Into the moonlight, that I see your face.
[Hydaspes comes down Left.]
Let me be sure that no one crawls behind you.
Hold out your hands, so; let me see the fingers.
Stay there. No nearer.
You have travelled far?
Hydaspes.
I have been far, among the Indian lands.
Ahasuerus.
And saw strange peoples?
Hydaspes.
Some.
Ahasuerus.
Which were the strangest?
Hydaspes.
Those of Tibet, who made their pence of gold,
And reckoned costly things by cups of water.
Ahasuerus.
What next seemed strange to you?
Hydaspes.
The Tartar horsemen
Who live on cheese of mare’s milk and go on
For ever over never-ending grass,
And have no home except the black felt tent
And the great plain and the great sky and silence.
Ahasuerus.
A good life, that, for men. Who, next to those?
Hydaspes.
The race of Sittras by the sacred river;
They are all men, grown grey; no women there.
They have put by their wives and families,
Their crowns, their swords, their households and their cares,
And seek for wisdom there, until they die.
Ahasuerus.
Do they find wisdom?
Hydaspes.
Ahasuerus.
Do they, by Heaven; as a dead man does.
Wisdom is life upon the tickle edge,
Not the blind staring of the stupefied
At nothing out of nothing. I envy you
For travelling thus and seeing all these things,
Which I shall only hear of.
Tell me now,
When you were wandering, did you meet the Jews?
Hydaspes.
No, never, Lord.
Ahasuerus.
Nor heard about their race?
Hydaspes.
Not in the East.
Ahasuerus.
But in the West you have?
Hydaspes.
Yes, here at home.
Ahasuerus.
Hydaspes.
That they are heathen men,
Brought from beyond the desert in the wars;
Not desert savages, nor civilised,
But enemies of both.
Ahasuerus.
Who told you this?
Hydaspes.
Prince Haman told me.
Ahasuerus.
They are now condemned;
They have been plotting here. You do not know
Any of their rebellious stock, by chance?
Hydaspes.
No, Lord, not one.
Ahasuerus.
Go to that door, Hydaspes.
Is someone listening to us, as we speak?
Hydaspes [Going to door].
No, Lord; the guard is at the door beyond.
Ahasuerus.
Come nearer me. That captain of the guard,
Is he a Jew?
Hydaspes.
No, Lord, a Persian, surely,
Pordánatha, from lovely Arisai,
The city white like snow; Persian as you.
Ahasuerus.
Thank you, Hydaspes.
These times are dangerous. Go now from here,
See the guards doubled at Queen Esther’s doors.
These Jews are secret like that desert tribe
Whom none has seen, who walk the moonless night
And strike men dead, and go, and leave no trace
Save the dead body.
Hydaspes.
I will place the guards
Myself, great King.
[Exit Hydaspes.]
Ahasuerus.
Esther, the Queen, not yet a trusted Queen.
Not lightly can an Emperor put his trust
In man or woman. She is proud, and pride
Is slow to give or take in confidence.
How the Queen Vashti comes into my mind!
She disobeyed my order at the feast,
So she is put away, and lives in exile.
How little quiet have I known since then!
Plot, plot and counter-plot, and none to comfort,
Nor to advise, as Vashti used to do.
Was it a plot that made her disobey?
I sent Prince Memucan to bring her to me:
He brought back word that she refused to come.
How if Prince Memucan were lying to me?
Misquoting what she said, to make me rage
And put her from her place beside my throne?
For since she went, Prince Memucan has been
About me day and night, and grows in power.
Who are the comrades of Prince Memucan?
Meres, Adathan; but his chiefest friend
Is Haman, my most trusted councillor.
Haman, my friend, to whom I love to give
Princedoms and palaces and silver mines.
And yet, what if the two conspired together
To rid me of the Queen, that they might rule me?
I will send Memucan beyond the seas
Upon some dangerous mission of great honour:
He shall away to-morrow in all haste.
But Haman I can trust.
[He tries to compose himself to sleep.]
Princedoms, and palaces, and silver mines,
Pomps, glories, splendours, princedoms, palaces—
Vashti the Queen, and enemies, and princedoms—
A long, long life, and heavy hours of time!
[He sleeps. A clink of metal to mark
passage of time.]
Ahasuerus [Starting up].
It was not I,
It was the slave Harbonah poisoned him,
Not I. I was not there. I never knew.
Horrible white face with the blotch of death;
Harbonah gave it in the honey cake—
The honey cake, I never gave it you.
I was not at the feast, it is well known
I was most sick that night.
[He wakes.]
Merach! Merach! begone! It was not Merach,
But someone at the footing of the bed.
Someone, a Jew, with bones instead of face
And blood that dripped.
[He gropes at foot of bed. He rises.]
O blessed night, so full of peace, so calm,
After that horror.
Ah! I know it now,
What the Chaldean told me long ago,
That I should know no quiet rest at night,
Being a King, unless I ate of bread
Baked in a house where sorrow never came.
O blessed bread, would I could eat of thee!
[Goes Back.]
Guards [Off].
God save the King!
The King’s gates are made sure, and the gates’ keys
Here, under guard. May the King live for ever!
Ahasuerus.
The sentries on the walls; do they report
All quiet in the city?
Guard.
All, great King.
Ahasuerus.
No armed men moving, no suspicious thing?
Guard.
Nothing, O Son of Heaven, but silent darkness,
And here and there a priest of the great sun
Praying long life and blessing on our Monarch.
Ahasuerus.
Long life, long misery!
It is within this room the horror is—
That thing, that Jew, that thing out of the grave.
No, nothing, nothing! I can see there’s nothing.
So—I will sleep. I will repeat that song
Made long ago by one who could not sleep,
To help his fellow-sufferers.
[Repeats.]
Along the beach a wave comes slowly in,
And breaks, and dies away, and dies away;
The moon is dimmed and all the ropes are taut.
Along the beach a wave comes slowly in,
And breaks and dies away, and dies away,
It is no season, sailor, to quit port.
Along—etc.
[He sleeps.] [Enter Ghost of Thares.
The Ghost comes behind Ahasuerus
and across stage. It stands still and
hinnies like a snipe.]
Ahasuerus [In his sleep].
O no! Spare me! Spare me!
Loose me my hands. O they have tied my feet!
I cannot get from bed, and now they come.
Merciful Gods! my thigh-bones are both broken.
I cannot stir. Who is it gibbering there?
Who are you? Who?
Thares [In a disguised, piping voice].
The shadow of what I was,
Come for your blood.
Ahasuerus.
I’ll give you gold—my kingdom—
But let me go!
Thares [Creeping slowly across, hands out].
I cannot, Ahasuerus,
I want your life, the soul out of your body.
See, I come nearer and a little nearer,
A little nearer still, and put out hands—
Lean, skinny hands, that used to serve your food,
Thin hands to put your powerless hands aside
And take you by the throat as now I do,
And squeeze, and squeeze the life out of your flesh!
[He begins to strangle Ahasuerus.]
Ahasuerus [With effort].
Ah, gods! He kills me! Kills me!
Out, O gods!
Hydaspes! Help!
Hydaspes! Guards! Hydaspes!
[Exit Thares, L.]
Hydaspes [R.].
Ahasuerus.
The villain strangled me. It was a dream.
A dreadful dream! And yet I knew his face.
Who was the man? One who made plots against me,
And died, from torture, as a due reward.
Who was the man?
Go, bring the records here,
The wise Chaldeans and the record-writers,
And let them read the records, for I know
The man’s name will be there.
[Exit Hydaspes.]
It was his spirit.
An evil thing, a harbinger of evil,
A plotter coming as the vulture comes
Before the corpse. But the Chaldean scribes
Will know his name, and by their magicry
Tell me what evil comes.
Thares it was—
Thares, the man was, who was put to death
For plotting with the other, Bigdana.
[Goes Back.]
Let pass the wise Chaldeans when they come.
The Guard [Off].
God save the King! May the King live for ever!
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