SCENE III.
A rambling Castle, situated high up on the hillside of Rostraveen Mountain, overlooking the Lakes of Killareen. It is the Castle of Killareen, the Highland home of the Princes of Bernia. Shafto, Prince of that name, is at this time occupying it, and from his eyrie stronghold has defied the orders of his liege lord and King, to yield up to the latter, Isola, who has fled from Saxa Isle and claimed the protection of her brother, in consequence of having refused to act the part of a Consort Queen to King Hector, or to acknowledge her child by him as the Prince of Scota, averring that Vergli is the rightful heir. She has refused to act the part of Queen Consort on the principle that no reigning rights are attached to the dignity making of her a mere nonentity, such a principle being contrary to the Evolutionary principles of the Evolutionist Party, of which Vergli, Member of Privilege for Stairway, is the leader, Isola being a member thereof. Divorce proceedings have, in consequence, been commenced against her.
Isola (leaning on the stone parapet of the Castle ramparts, overlooking the lakes below, sings to herself): “Is there a fate on ev’ry life Which weaves o’er each its darksome thread? Is there a bosom free from strife? Is there a heart that has not bled? There are in life some gleams of joy, But Sorrow’s darker shadows fall, And tho’ sweet moments we enjoy, Pain lays its cruel grasp on all.”
Enter Vulnar. “A sad song, Lady Isola, methinks! Come, let me cheer your heart with lighter lay. Laughter and joy should shine in eyes so clear, And smiles oblige the pearly teeth to show; It is not good to mourn, and Life is young, Laugh while you can, and cast aside despair, A sorry imp to irritate your heart; Oh! Lady Isola, chase it away. [Sings
Love the enchanter Hovers all near, Longing to cheer thee But full of fear, Fear of offending What it loves best, Pining to give thee Joy’s perfect rest. ‘Wilt thou not love me?’ Love whispers low, ‘Let my caresses, On thee bestow Dreams of allurement, Visions of bliss, May not my fond lips Give thine one kiss?’ Hearts were not made sure, To pine alone? Drive away sorrow, Mourning begone! Call up love once more, He will respond, Lady tie once more Heaven’s sweet bond.”
Isola. “Vulnar, your voice is beautiful and rare, Where is the heart to whom you sing these words? Oh! yes, the bond of love is Heaven’s tie, Yet, when ’tis snapped, Hell’s chasms yawn below. ’Tis a fair world, and all might be so gay, Laughter and song, playing with gentle love, Were it not for bad laws and customs vile, And evil teaching meted out to youth. How happy had my lot been but for these. Nature gave me a birthright passing fair, First Life, then health, the power to love and feel, The opportunity to taste of each. Had Nature had her way, my path all strewn With fragrant flow’rs, would have been smooth indeed! But human selfishness makes mock of Truth, And rules life with one endless, searing lie. Thus it swooped down upon Isola’s path And makes the way, indeed, all stones and crags. Your song is sweet, Vulnar, but mine more true, I simply sang of stern reality.”
Vulnar. “Lady Isola, Hector claims divorce, And, doubtless, will obtain it speedily. Thus will the laws which bind you as his wife, Release you from the union you abhor. Freedom will then be yours. Ah! may I hope That you will love Vulnar as he loves you? Lady Isola, I have loved you long, Loved you all secretly, more than my life, Loved you since I was but a boy in years, Loved you in silence when Escanior Found favour in your eyes and won your heart. He was my friend, and your joy my whole life. I would not try to steal your love from him. But he is gone, passed to the Great Unknown, Passed o’er the boundless Ocean of Life’s space. Whither? Who knows? Beyond our mortal ken. Will you not try to give Vulnar your love? He would not force it on you, Isola, But be content to wait and hope for it. At any rate, his whole love would be yours, His heart no other Woman’s property.”
Isola. “Kind Vulnar, Nature’s Nobleman indeed. Ah! if such as you ask for were but there, It would go forth from my poor heart to you. But, Vulnar, what you seek no longer hides Its coy head in Life’s throbbing mechanism. Isola’s heart held love for one alone, That love went roving with Escanior, When the cold dagger drove him from the side Of Isola beneath the Ocean wave. I cannot give you what is mine no more, Vulnar, ’tis gone. It is with Escanior, Wedded with his, all indissoluble, Part of his being, as his was of mine. His love lives with me, ’tis imperishable; ’Twill guide me to the Great Unknown some day, There to unite with my own love again. Vulnar, your heart so noble and so kind Will understand and feel with Isola.”
Vulnar. “Lady Isola, if the love I seek Has passed away to rove with Escanior, Will you not give Vulnar the right he craves, The right to love you and to live for you? He will not ask for that which cannot be, Nor would he steal such love from Escanior, But give him just the right to care for you, To be with you through Life’s lone Pilgrimage. Ah! do not drive me from your side, I pray, I only ask to be with you. No more.”
Isola. “No, Vulnar, ’tis impossible, I say; To mate where love is not is Hell enough, But then at least, indifference can dull And make one callous and like frigid stone. But no true Woman could treat thus, a man So noble and so kind as you, Vulnar. Men such as you are not so numerous, Hearts such as yours are jewels scarce and rare. Isola would not wrong you as you ask; No, Vulnar, seek a fitter mate than me. And yet, if you will give her Friendship’s aid, She’ll cherish it as the most precious gift Which Vulnar’s Generosity can give, The dearest treasure left to her on earth.”
Vulnar. “’Tis yours, Isola, given heart and soul, Nothing you asked of me could I refuse; At least I ask but one return for it, It is that, though you cannot love Vulnar, He may be licensed to love Isola, All silently as in the past he’s loved, Loved with a love he feels can never die, A love which, unobtrusive, yet shall stand The test of time, faithful unto the end.”
Isola. “Brave heart, so tender and so true, pure soul, If gratitude for love so infinite Will give you solace, then indeed ’tis yours, Isola’s heart is grateful to Vulnar.”
Enter the Prince of Bernia, exclaiming: “What, Vulnar here? Vulnar, news just to hand apprises me That Vergli is arrested, charged with Crime, The Crime, conspiring against Church and State. ’Twas in the House of Privilege he cast Defiance at their laws and pleaded hard For a reform of both, which he declared Must be both sweeping and far-reaching too. The overturning of his Labour Bill— Wherein Co-operation is enforced Upon employers who amass large hoards, By taking all the profits of men’s toil, Giving but wages in return, instead Of that which is the toiler’s rightful due, A share of Toil’s returns—aroused his ire. Because, I’m told when this same Bill was lost, Defeated by a large majority, The sneers and jeers, and cheers which hailed the fall Of his much-cherished infant, maddened him. He rose, and in impassioned accents, hurled The vials of his wrath on Church and State, So that men shouted ‘Treason!’ Wonder reigned, And all agape, demanded his arrest. This has been done, and Vergli is in gaol, A bad look-out for Evolutionism.”
Vulnar. “’Tis that, indeed, a cause has oft been lost By shutting up the brains that nurtured it, And closing lips that told it how to act. Vergli had power, his words were all inspired, They rose upon his lips like Heaven’s dew, And fell from them in show’rs of sparkling rain. He said they were Merani’s whisperings, A Woman’s voice, of which his was the echo; I doubt it not, believing, as I do That Woman, disinherited by laws As false as they are wrong and execrable, Has Mission, greater than to be a slave, That Mission to be Man’s true comforter By guiding him along the path of Truth, Not grovelling and fawning at his feet. Let her rise up and speak aloud that Truth, Let her assault base Superstition’s lie; ’Tis Superstition which has made her slave, The hideous lie of teachings orthodox. ’Tis they who have brought sorrow upon Man, Degrading Womanhood, in whose downfall Is swaddled up Humanity’s drear woes. [Sings.
“Behold! thy handiwork, Oh! man, The outcome of thy cursed laws, He who that wreck unmoved can scan, No friend of Woman is. Her cause Shivers and writhes within thy grasp, Thou death-importing, human asp; Thou who would’st seal her fate, I charge thee with her bitter woe, ’Tis thou who thus hast dragged her low, Hast doomed her to this state.
“Look at her in her form divine, A triumph of fair Nature’s art; Look at her in those clothes of thine Condemned to play the monkey’s part. Alas! from girlhood’s wasted days Base Superstition’s cruel ways Hold her in slavery! One aim in life consumes her soul, It is her one and only role, To grovel at thy knee.
“Where are her rights? She boasts of none, She is thy slave, by priests controlled; And as the Sculptor moulds his stone, So mouldest thou her soul. Look at that soul, caged and confined, Bound helpless where it long has pined, A dreary sight forlorn. With future empty, cramped and void, No hope to keep her spirit buoy’d, A toy which men adorn!
“Oh! Woman, wake. Behold the dawn Rising from out that bank of clouds. No longer grovel, cringe or fawn To Superstition, which enshrouds Thy liberty. Awake! Awake! I bid thee for thine own dear sake Cast off these cruel chains. Rise from thy many thousand years Of degradation. Wipe thy tears, Truth’s golden Dawn remains.”
Isola. “Vulnar, your invocation is not vain, Have I not half fulfilled it hitherto? See, I will act as you invoke, indeed. Vergli in prison! I will take his place, And carry on the War for Right and Truth. Shafto, go prove your title to be Prince, Speak out the truth unto your fellow Bores, Arouse the gilded chamber where it sleeps, And shake those dressed-up tyrants called divines. Make Sanctimonious tremble in his shoes, Shiver the awful Serpent they have raised And bid them practise Sacrilege no more. Brave Vulnar, you will stand by me, I know. Vergli in prison! Echoes of Merani! Your whisperings shall play upon my lips, I’ll shout them loudly into deafened ears, And make them ring throughout our wide wide Erth. Dear Erth, so beautiful, and yet how wronged By Superstition’s monster-featured creed.”
Shafto and Vulnar. “Agreed, agreed! Both of us are agreed!”
End of Act II.
ACT THIRD.
