FIRST INNER SCENE
Against a background of deep blue sky, the barge[14] of Cleopatra lies moored at an ancient wharf:
From the left, along the wharf, enters Mark Antony, attended by Soldiers and Populace in Roman and Egyptian garb.
ANTONY Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon ’t; It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither. I am so hated in the world, that I Have lost my way forever. I have a ship Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, And make your peace with Cæsar.
ALL Fly! Not we.
ANTONY I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; I have myself resolv’d upon a course Which has no need of you; be gone.... Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command....
[His followers depart, and Antony throws himself down on a buttress of the wharf. Meantime from the barge, Cleopatra—who has looked on and listened—is led down to the landing by Charmian and her Attendants, behind whom Eros
EROS Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him....
CHARMIAN Do! Why, what else?
CLEOPATRA Let me sit down. O Juno!
[As Cleopatra sinks down near him, Antony—now beholding her—starts up with a cry of surprise and passionate pain.]
ANTONY No, no, no; no, no!
EROS [Pointing to Cleopatra’s piteous aspect.] See you here, sir?
ANTONY [Hiding his face.] O fie, fie, fie!
CHARMIAN [Bending over her.] Madam!
EROS [Appealing to Antony.] Sir, sir,—
ANTONY Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept His sword e’en like a dancer, while I struck The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and ’twas I That the mad Brutus ended ... yet now—No matter.
[He sinks down again.]
CLEOPATRA [Rising, to her Attendants.] Ah, stand by ... sustain me! O!
EROS Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches. Her head’s declin’d, and death will seize her, but Your comfort makes the rescue.
ANTONY [Drawing still away, despairfully.] I have offended reputation, A most unnoble swerving.
EROS Sir, the queen!
[Cleopatra and Antony face each other—gazing into each other’s eyes.]
ANTONY [Suddenly crying out.]
O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, How I convey my shame out of thine eyes By looking back what I have left behind ’Stroy’d in dishonor.
CLEOPATRA O my lord, my lord, Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought You would have follow’d.
ANTONY Egypt, thou knew’st too well My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, And thou shouldst tow me after. O’er my spirit Thy full supremacy thou knew’st, and that Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods Command me.
CLEOPATRA O my pardon!
ANTONY Now I must To the young man send humble treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness; who With half the bulk o’ the world play’d as I pleased, Making and marring fortunes. You did know How much you were my conqueror; and that My sword, made weak by my affection, would Obey it on all cause.
CLEOPATRA [Touching his arm, clings to him.] Pardon, pardon!
ANTONY [Overcome at her touch.] Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss. Even this repays me.... Wine! Bring wine, within there: wine! For fortune knows We scorn her most when most she offers blows. [He embraces Cleopatra. From the right slaves enter, bearing chalices and wine-beakers. With them come flutists and harpers, making festal music. Snatching from them a golden cup, Antony raises it aloft with an impassioned gesture, returning the triumphant smile of the Egyptian queen.]
CLOSING, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS SHUT OFF THE SCENE.
[Meantime Caliban, who has risen absorbed and drawn slowly nearer in child-like fascination, stands for an instant, bewildered. Then, with a cry, he leaps forward in the dim-lit space and gropes along the curtains with arms wide.]
CALIBAN Ho, light! All’s smother: ’tis gone! Yo—yo, all gone— Cloud-swallowed, all! Ah, woman, snake-bright queen, Thou wonder-thing, come back! Ah, where—where—where?
PROSPERO So, so! Canst thou, then, taste my vision, slave? [He descends the throne toward Caliban.]
CALIBAN [Staring about him.] O dazzle-blue, gold-shine, hot lotus smell! Blood-root in bloom, and scarlet water-weed!— O silver sight and tinkle-tickling sound!— Spurteth my body with joy—burst in my brain Enormous moons of wonder!—Float, still float, You purpling sails! Blaze, thou flame-woman! Speak Sparkles of kissing fire!
PROSPERO [Approaching him.] Nay, art thou touched Beyond thy tiger cravings?
CALIBAN Ho, Lord Master, Lord Chanticleer, unswallow from thy gorge The world thou hast devoured!
PROSPERO [Pointing toward Ariel, who comes forth again as Prologus through the curtains.]
Ask of thy tutor; He hath revealed that world to thy brute ken.— Ariel, this lump of earth hath dreams within ’t, That now begin to sprout. Send it more sun And watering.
ARIEL Sir, your art is rain and sun: I am but air, to carry its wet or warmth Whereso you list.
PROSPERO So let it fall on him Till he shall wax to a more worthy plant For Miranda’s temple-garden.—Here is my Staff: This wields my power. Here keep it in thy charge Till I return. So, use it as a rod To instruct this bungling cub of Setebos.
ARIEL [As Prospero goes.] I will, sir.—Go you far?
PROSPERO No farther than The frontiers of mine art. Farewell a while!
[Prospero passes within through the curtains. Half confiding, half suspicious, Caliban comes near to Ariel and questions him.]
CALIBAN Art, saith! What’s that—his art?
ARIEL ’Tis that which burns Now in thy blood: the same which conjured hither Bright Egypt and the kiss of Antony.
CALIBAN The woman and the kiss! Nay, saidest now ’Tis rain and sun!
CALIBAN Where falleth his rain? Where shineth his sun?
ARIEL Yonder on the Yellow Sands.
CALIBAN Nay, show me this art! Is ’t hidden in thy hand? Here, let me hold the staff. [Caliban reaches for the staff; Ariel raises it warningly.]
ARIEL Stay! Touch it not Lest it shall scorch thy fingers and set fire To the building world. The staff of Prospero Is for his servants, not for slaves, to wield.
CALIBAN [Drawing back from it, in fear.] Scorcheth my fingers, ah?—So wield it, thou! Show me once more the snake-bright queen.
ARIEL Nay, Egypt No more! But come with me to Prosper’s throne Where I play master now. Here thou shalt sit And watch the battlements of eternal Troy Where Troilus woos inconstant Cressida.
CALIBAN Showest me once more—woman?
ARIEL Even so; For many kinds of woman make mankind.
[Rising, Ariel points toward the inner stage and speaks chantingly.] Now, from out Time’s storied sphere, Homer’s Troy I summon here, On a dawn when Hector seeks Battle with the besieging Greeks: There, while heroes throng the gates, Cressida her lover ’waits, Casting from a height apart Tangling hooks for Troilus’ heart.— Behold her now, by Prosper’s art! [Ariel raises his staff.]
SECOND INNER SCENE[15]
The Cloudy Curtains draw back, revealing the battlements of Troy. Above, on a rampart, in the first rays of morning, CRESSIDA appears, with a maiden Attendant.
Below, murmuring crowds are looking toward the outer gates. Among them pass the aged Trojan Queen, and the Greek Helen, in her younger beauty.
CRESSIDA [Peering below.] Who were those went by?
ATTENDANT Queen Hecuba and Helen.
CRESSIDA And whither go they?
ATTENDANT Up to the eastern tower To see the battle—Hector, Before the sun uprose, was harnessed light And to the field goes he. [Enter behind them Pandarus.]
CRESSIDA Hector’s a gallant man.— [Turning to greet him.] Good morrow, Uncle Pandarus.
PANDARUS [Smiling.] Good morrow, Cousin Cressid. [Trumpets are sounded, off left.] Hark! They are coming from the field. Shall we stand up here and see them as they pass toward Ilium?
CRESSIDA At your pleasure.
[They move to a better vantage. At a gesture from Cressida the Attendant departs.]
PANDARUS Here, here’s an excellent place. I’ll tell you them all by their names, as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest.
CRESSIDA [With a reproving laugh.] Speak not so loud.
[Below, from the left, Trojan warriors, in battle gear, begin to pass by, through the admiring populace who cheer them occasionally. Among them ÆNEAS PASSES
PANDARUS That’s Æneas: is not that a brave man? He’s one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shall see anon. ANTENOR PASSES
CRESSIDA Who’s that?
PANDARUS That’s Antenor: he’s one o’ the soundest judgments in Troy. But when comes Troilus? I’ll show you Troilus anon. If he sees me, you shall see him nod at me.
CRESSIDA [Archly.] Will he give you the nod?
PANDARUS You shall see.
CRESSIDA If he do, the rich shall have more. HECTOR PASSES
PANDARUS That’s Hector: that, that, look you, that; there’s a fellow! Go thy way, Hector! There’s a brave man, niece.
CRESSIDA O, a brave man!
PANDARUS Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil comes to him, it’s all one. Yonder comes Paris—Paris! PARIS PASSES
Who said he came hurt home to-day? He’s not hurt. Why, this will do Helen’s heart good now, ha! Would I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon. HELENUS PASSES
CRESSIDA Who’s that?
PANDARUS [Searching with his eyes, grows impatiently expectant.] That’s Helenus.—I marvel where Troilus is.—That’s Helenus—I think he went not forth to-day.—That’s Helenus.
CRESSIDA Can Helenus fight, uncle?
PANDARUS Helenus? no. Yes, he’ll fight indifferent well.—I marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you hear the people cry “Troilus?” TROILUS PASSES [As he approaches, the populace cheer him. His eyes, however, search about till they rest on the battlement, where Cressida, returning his look, starts back, trembling. Noting both their actions, Pandarus continues flauntingly to point out the young hero.]
’Tis Troilus! There’s a man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus!
CRESSIDA Peace! For shame, peace!
PANDARUS Mark him: note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him, niece; look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hacked than Hector’s. O admirable youth! Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris is dirt to him.
[While he is speaking, Cressida has taken from her hair a flower, knotted its stem to an arrow, and dropped the arrow beneath the rampart, where Troilus lifts it with a smile and happy gesture, bearing it away with him, right. As Pandarus now turns to her, Cressida looks away left and points to others below.]
CRESSIDA Here comes more. MORE FORCES PASS
PANDARUS Asses, fools, dolts! Chaff and bran! Porridge after meat! I could live and die i’ the eyes of Troilus. Ne’er look, ne’er look! the eagles are gone; crows and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece.
[Enter, above, Troilus’ Boy, who speaks to Pandarus.]
THE BOY Sir, my lord Troilus would instantly speak with you.
PANDARUS Where?
THE BOY At your own house; there he unarms him.
PANDARUS Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.] Fare ye well, good niece. [He goes off, above.]
CRESSIDA Adieu, uncle!
[Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them, speaking aloud to herself:]
O more in Troilus thousandfold I see Than in the glass of Pandar’s praise may be; Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing. Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing.
[Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone. The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the links in his chain armor on his left side. Pointing to it, he calls up toward the battlement.]
TROILUS Cressida!
CRESSIDA [With a glad cry.] Troilus!
[Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus. Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart, where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.]
TROILUS [Calling upward as he mounts.] Cressida! [Just as he is about to reach Cressida,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE.
[At the centre Caliban now leaps up in loud, excited laughter. Clapping his hands in the air, he strides toward Ariel on the throne.]
CALIBAN Aha! Troy, Troy! Lips of Troyland and Egypt! Lovers in links of gold! Ho, wine of woman Bubbling in vats of war!—drinketh you all Caliban, Caliban, son of Setebos.—Ariel, Learnest me Art? Lo, now: I am his Artist! Tell him, Lord Prospero, Caliban createth Glories more ’stounding still. Art? Ho, ’tis God’s play! But me? Am God i’ the mire: can make me Troy And purple Egypt out of the mud i’ my palm; Giveth me only that—his little play stick [Pointing to the staff in Ariel’s hand.] To stir in the mud withal.
ARIEL Not yet!—This staff Is wrought to stir the spirits of the air, Not dabble i’ the slime.
CALIBAN Why so? From bog-slime bloometh The lotus, and the sea-lark feedeth her young Along the salt flats.— [With childish wheedling.] Prithee—the staff?
ARIEL [Descending the throne.] ’Twould burn thee. Touch not till thou art free. Yet patience, monster, For thou hast learned to answer well, and growest Rarely in thought and speech.
CALIBAN [Tickled to laughter.] Yea, clever monster Soon groweth monstrous clever. More art, fine Ariel! Let Caliban speak thy Prologue.
ARIEL Hush!—Miranda!
[From her shrine Miranda comes forth, with the Muses. Seeing the two, she pauses astonished.]
MIRANDA Nay!—Is this Ariel?
ARIEL ’Tis I—Prologus. Will you hear me, Mistress?
MIRANDA [As Caliban approaches.] Thou!—thou, Caliban!
CALIBAN [With confiding assurance.] Liketh well thy father’s art, Spring-i’-the-air.
MIRANDA God speed thy learning, monster! I am more fain to help thee in that task Than all else in the world.
CALIBAN [Astonished and eager.] Wouldst help me—thou?
MIRANDA How happy, if I could!
CALIBAN Yea, canst thou!—Hark: [Glancing from his garb to Ariel’s.] Let me wear glory, too! What booteth me To be his Artist, if I wear no cloth To show my glory? He there talketh no Prologue Without his toga. Tog me, too, in brave Colors!
MIRANDA Well thought on. [To one of the Muses.] Quick, Euterpe: Fetch Bright vesture forth.
ARIEL For Caliban?
MIRANDA For whom So fit? The need of beauty lies Most near to them who lack it.
[Euterpe returns, bringing bright garments, which she and the other Maidens help now to put upon Caliban.]
So, dear Muses: Lay on!
CALIBAN [Delightedly tries to survey himself.]
Ha, Sycorax, an thou wert here now To look on this thy son!
[He parades, with swelling pleasure, before the Muses.]
Gaze well, good Spirits! Now, Ariel, thy pupil soon shall teach thee What thing this Art is: yea, teach Prospero A lesson in ’s own lore.
MIRANDA [To Ariel, who is about to protest.] Pray, let him tarry This time with us. He is too full of dreams To act us harm. Speak on thy Prologue.
CALIBAN [Still parading.] Prologue! Aye, good: my Prologue shall come after.
ARIEL Mistress, Keep here, this staff for your protection.
[Accepting the staff from Ariel, Miranda takes seat on the shrine, where the Muses range themselves about her.]
MIRANDA So! Be near us, Caliban.
CALIBAN [Moving to the shrine steps, speaks to Ariel.] What showest now?
ARIEL [At centre, before the curtains.] Now, in Time’s emblazoned tome Egypt, Greece, turn page for Rome.
CALIBAN [Mutters aloud.] Rome, ha! I’ll show you Rome!
ARIEL Rocked by mighty Cæsar’s fall Glooms the world in battle pall, Where by midnight, worn and spent, Weary Brutus, in his tent, Watches ’mid the Roman host. There the pallid Cæsar’s ghost Rises from his candle-flame Accusing.—Who shall bear that blame? Can Brutus wake a world from shame?
[Ariel disappears through the curtains. Miranda raises the staff.]