ACT · IV
ZAPEL and SALA, meeting.
SALA.
What tidings, Zapel? I have been all day away,
And had no word.
ZAPEL.
There’s none of good to tell.
She hath neither ate nor slept.
1650
Sa.Will she not eat?
Za. Nothing.
Sa.’Tis the third day.
Za.Nor will she sleep.
She fights ’gainst sleep, as if ’twere death. Like one
That must keep watch against its soft approaches,
Sitting upon her couch with head inclined
She mourneth to herself, and ’twixt her sighs
What words may be distinguished overlook
Her own distress, and squander their laments
Upon an unknown sorrow, which she says
Enwraps the world. Or sometimes she will sing
The melancholy strains which she hath heard
The Christian captives use.
Sa.’Tis a brain-sickness:
Miserable.
Za.And ever, when I have tried to cheer her,
Hath she rebuked me, as she is wont; but gently,
And bid me leave her: Then to meet her humour
I have gone, but made occasion to return,
Bringing such simple food as best she likes,
Freshly prepared to tempt her; and with tears
I pray her but to taste: yet she endures,
And saith, 'I thank thee, Zapel: tho’I eat not,
Thy skill is not misspent stretching the rack
That proves my constancy. I prithee, girl,
Set fresh and fresh before me.’Hearing this
I weep for pity: but she saith, 'Be sure
I shall not taste thy dishes, till one eat
Who is now denied.’
Sa.Doth she not speak his name?
Za. Rarely and reverently, as a name of God.
Then I am sent to learn the last; if yet
He lives, and whether he hath spoke of her. This morn,
As I returned from such unhappy quest,
She gave me this: See, ’tis a letter for him....
[Shewing letter.
Za.O sir, the piteous prayer she made,
Kneeling and clasping me about the knees,
Went to my heart. But now I have it I fear
To have broke the king’s command. I prithee take it.
Sa. Give’t me.[Takes.
Za.To see her thus, Allah forgive me,
I wish well to the infidel. What word
Shall I take back?
Sa.Say truth. I will deliver it.
And tell her prince Enrique is returned:
He is camped a league away, and in such force
As makes me hope I may persuade the king
To yield to his demand. Since there’s this hope,
Bid her preserve her strength bravely, nor thus
Prejudge God’s will. His blessing aid thy words.
[Exit Zapel.
I said there’s hope. ’Twas hope that bade me lie,
For none I see. And this is misery,
To cherish consolations, and be happy
Doing the loathèd thing. Am I content
To bear a letter of Almeh’s to her lover?
Allah is great. My best desire is only
To save her,—my one hope that the prince should yield:
And no persuasion but her love will move him.
This letter will entreat him; I must carry it.
Enter King.
KING.
Sala, make haste: a herald from Enrique.
This to me: Read. Edward of Portugal
Is dead. His eldest son being but a babe,
A regency now governs, and the rulers
Are prince Enrique and this Ferdinand.
The other I cannot read, and ’tis addressed
To Ferdinand. I doubt not that it urges
Acceptance of my terms and quick return.
Sa. I pray it be so. Is it your pleasure, sire,
To speak with Ferdinand?
K.Ay, fetch him hither.
The dog being master now may change his mind.
Sa. And will you see him in his shameful dress?
K. Nay, that is past:—his own, and with his sword.
Sa. And his despatch; shall I not bear it to him?
K. Ay. Give it him; take it. Stay. (Aside.) I never know
What it may say. Better to try him first
Without its knowledge. Should I fail ’twere time
To use it then. (To Sala.) Give it me. I’ll keep it back.
What is this other paper? [Seeing A.'s letter.
1721
Sa.I pray, my liege,
K.I’ll know.
Sa.I pray you trust me, sire.
K. Trust thee! what means this?
Sa.’Tis a forbidden paper.
’Twould anger you to see it.
K.By heaven, I am angered
Before I see it. What is it thou wouldst hide?
Sa. It is a letter which I have intercepted
From Almeh to the prince. If you have pity
On your own flesh, beseech you, let me use it
As I judge fit.
1729
K.And well discovered now.
By God, wouldst thou play carrier? Give it to me.
Sa. It hath not been five minutes in my hands.
K. And shall not be. (Takes.) Go fetch the prince.
Sa. If you should read it, sire, and find therein
Messages of such softness as might melt
The stubbornness of Ferdinand, I pray you,
For her sweet sake that writ it, let it go
And do its errand.
K.Go thou and do thine. [Exit Sala.
Will he too plot against me! Let us see
What style she dares. Thy death, O my beloved,
Already is avenged.—O very tenderly,
And most determined.—Willingly I suffer
What pains of thine I may. ’Tis all my joy
To have taken neither food nor rest
Since first thou wert deprived; nor will I take
Till thou be respited.—Why this might move him.
Oh, if thou diest!—Ah, great heavens,
What read I here? Now I see all. Baptized!
Baptized in secret by thy countrymen.
Baptized! Then let her perish. She is dead.
I cast her off. Till now I hid this from thee,
Doubting my worthiness.—He doth not know it.
He shall not know. None shall know. We will die.
I will slay all. I will go down to the grave,
And plead my cause before the holy angels,
Whether it may be permitted for a princess,
Against her father and faith....—Nay, is’t not writ
There is there no vain discourse nor charge of sin,
But pleasure to the faithful? And I to die
With house and kingdom shamed! How would my crown
Shine ’mong the blessed caliphs, and the martyrs
Who fell in fight upon the road of God?
How would they look upon me,
If ’mong their moonbright scimitars I came,
My child’s blood on my head? and she not there,
The fair flower of my life, the bud of grace,
Which my long-withering and widowed tree
Now from my own trunk by my own hands torn.
Better the bole be split: heaven’s lightning rend me:
All curses seize me. Almeh, thou must not die.
Re-enter Sala.
Sa. Prince Ferdinand will come.
K.Is he not here?
Sa. He comes.
K.Why look’st thou thus upon me, Sala?
Sa. Because, sire, thou’st dishonoured me, and slain
A noble warrior, who gave me life.
K. Slain him!
Sa.Ay, king: except thou raise the dead.
For tho’he breathes, ’tis with such failing gasps
As mastering death allows to his sure prey.
K. Thou art over-fearful; three days without food
Should make him weak and faint, but not to death.
Nay, I am determined now he shall not die.
Food will restore him. Set me here a table
With meat and drink: here in the garden set it,
And he shall eat at once. See it be done,
And quickly.
Sa.Sire, I obey: tho’’tis too late.[Exit.
During the King’s following speech, servants come in with table, etc., which they set down, and go out.
K. He must not die, since only by his life
I can save Almeh: and ’tis not too late.
The sight of food will tempt, the taste restore him:
He will yield. I have here too what will move him,
This letter; were he built of Atlas stone,
For Almeh’s sake he must relent. I know,
I see what must be done. I can consent:
For such alliance with an ancient foe
Is honourable. Peace between the realms,
Happiness to both houses—bought may be
With sacrifice on my side—yet there’s pride
On both to balance: and, this way refused,
’Tis hell and death. And he will thank me too.
He is brave and noble; and the stoutest foes
Are won to stoutest friendship. See, he comes.
Enter Fer., upborne between two Moorish soldiers.
1800
Prince Ferdinand, our quarrel comes to end.
A message has arrived from prince Enrique.
Your brother Edward, that was king, is dead.
Wherefore the power which I have used on thee
I now relax. I have a gentler purpose
And a persuasion thou mayst guess; while thou,
Owing no loyalty but to thyself,
I am well assured wilt not be slow to meet me.
Sit with me first and eat: when thou’rt restored
We will compose these matters at our leisure:
Which done, and peace agreed, thou mayst return
In time to pay thy brother’s memory
The sorrow it deserves: and in his place
Govern the Portuguese. See, there’s thy life,
Thy strength and restoration. Sit and eat.
FERDINAND.
I feel no hunger, sire. The time is past
When thou couldst save my life.
K.Despair not.
Fer.Nay,
I do not know the word.
K.This is despair.
Come, sit and eat.
Fer.I say the wish is past.
K. Dost thou not then believe? See in this paper
Writ to thyself. (Gives.)
(Aside.) Life doth not tempt this man.
The call to rule his people yet may move him.
What readst thou now therein?
Fer.What thou hast said.
My brother Edward’s soul rest in God’s peace!
K. Is nought else in thy paper?
Fer.Ay, there’s more.
I’d not conceal it. Prince Enrique writes,
If I return not to his camp to-night,
He comes himself in force to rescue me.
K. Trust not to such deliverance.
Fer.Nay, O king:
For cometh he at even or at morn,
To-morrow or to-day, he cometh late.
My eves and morns are passed, and my deliverance
Is nearer than his coming: yet for that,
Tho’I shall see him not when he doth come,
Not the less will he come; for so he saith.
K. Thou wilt not eat and live?
Fer.I thank thee, sire.
K. (to attendants). Set the prince in the chair, and all go out;
And send the guard within.
[They obey. As they go out they take with them the sentinel from the pit gate. From this point the stage gradually begins to darken to end of act.
Now, prince, we are left alone, eat what I give thee.
[Puts food towards him.
Fer. Why should I eat?
K. (pouring). Myself I pour the wine.
Drink with me. ’Tis thy life.
1840
Fer.Why should I live?
K. Canst thou not guess? I’ll tell thee then, and speak
Not as a foe. Thy will hath conquered mine;
And if I wronged thee, thou hast wronged me more.
Thou hast loved my daughter, and strangely won her love
Away from him whom for my son I had chosen,
And pillar of my house: thou hast driven away
My best ally, and left my kingdom naked:—
For this thy death would be but fair revenge.
And there’s a secret cause why I should hate thee
Above all this: thou hast suborned my daughter:
She hath denied her faith. See there: (gives letter) see there,
What she hath writ. Read all. Seest thou not now?
’Tis true, she kills herself; she dies for thee.
Yet I’ll forgive thee; tho’she is none of mine,
Apostate, disobedient.—Yet for her
I will forgive thee. See, ’tis for her sake
I pray thee eat.
Fer.Too late, ’twould be too late.
K. Say not too late: that word is death. Thou’rt brave.
Tho’not for me, yet for her sake I bid thee
Eat, drink, and live. So she may live, and thou—
The altitude of thrones may overlook
Such differences—I give her thee to wife.
Fer.What hear I? wouldst thou then
Have given me in good faith Almeh to wife?
[Makes motions towards food.
K. And will. Ay, drink.
Fer.And Ceuta?
K.That is mine,
Her price.
Fer. (thrusting things from him). Ah, never.
K.Dost thou then refuse?
Fer. It cheereth death to spend my last breath thus.
K. Sittest thou there balanced ’twixt death and life,
Daintily making choice, and to my offer
Of all that God could grant thee, life and love,
Wrung from me by my sorrow, to my shame
Preferrest the Christian hell? O Infidel
Apostatizing dog, lest now thy mouth
Should find the power to gasp one broken speech
Of triumph over me, die at my hand.
Death shall not rob me of thy blood that’s left.
[Stabs Fer. across the table.
Thus let thy brother find thee, if I fail
To send him also thither, where thou goest
To thine idolatrous and thieving sires. [Exit.
Enter from pit Chorus.... Twilight.
Chorus (inter se).
1880
We come with laboured breath
Climbing from underground:—
In fear we creep and quake:—
What voice with furious sound,
Choking in wrath outspake
The names of blood and death?—
Who is here?—Look around.—
Hearken!—the broken moan
Of the ever-murmuring sea
Reaches my ear alone—
Come forward, ye may dare,
All is quite still and free.—
Ah, stay! behold him there,
That sitteth with his head
Upon his breast bent low—
The prince—the prince.—Forbear,
He sleepeth.—Nay, I fear,
Now may the truth strike dead
My terror—step thou near—
Gently.—Alas! woe, woe,
Woe, woe, woe, woe, he is dead.
He sits dead in his chair.
See at his heart, where yet
Our prince, our prince is dead—
They have slain him in their spite—
Ai, ai, ai, ai! Who now
Can save us? We are lost men, friends; we are lost—
And thou, who saidst that we should live to fight,
Where are thy arms? Didst thou not make a boast
That thou couldst see God’s will?—We are quite forsaken,
Forgotten—(1.) Refrain, refrain. Can God forget?
Ch. Who could refrain? Alas! Hath not long woe
Crushed us so low?—Ah me! This is our pain.—
Now we deplore, alas!—Hell and despair!—
Now it is plain—O woe—we are no more
What once we were.—
(1.) Renew your courage, and devote your care
In solemn duty to the dead. Upraise
This noble corpse, and bear it to the bower;
Where, roofed by rose and jasmine, it may lie
Hid from the dews of swift descending night.
Take ye the feet, while I uplift the head,
And, grasping in the midst, ye, by his robe,
Bear him with slow accommodated step,
Where we may best dispose his limbs in peace.
[Exeunt bearers with Fer.'s body to bower.
Bearers. Alas, ah! noble prince,
Far from where thy fathers lie,
In a heathen grave,
If grave they give thee at all.
Yet will thy country mourn;
And where victorious banners hang,
And hymns of Christian joy are sung,
Upraise thine empty tomb.
The others. We see our fate to-night. Thus shall we die.—
If thus they treated him, how shall we fare?—
Who bids us hope?—There is no hope, no hope:
I’ll mask my thought no more.
Bearers re-enter from bower.
Ch. (1.) (Who has Fer.'s letter and sword.)
We are saved! we are saved!
Ch. How saved?—How so?—Tell us!—
(1.) This letter here.
1940
Ch. What letter? say.
(1.) ’Tis from the prince Enrique.
Ch. Read! read!
(1.) ’Tis written to prince Ferdinand,
In our home speech. ’Twas in his grasp.
Ch.Read! read!
(1.) Unless I have thee in my camp to-night,
Ch.Where is the camp?
(1.) A league hence to the west, he writes.
Ch.Alas!
Now they have slain his brother he will not come.—
Or, should he come, then in the siege he makes
Hunger will slay us all.—
(1.) Hark then to me. (Stage darkens more.)
He lying so near we may escape to him.
1950
Ch. How shall we escape?—The guards upon the walls
Would see us.—They would send pursuit of horse
To cut us down.—
(1.) Not now. I said not now;
But later in darkest night.
Ch.And how to escape?
(1.) See here the prince’s sword: with this in hand
To creep at midnight on our sentinel,
And slay him: then in darkness unperceived
To climb out o’er the wall.
Ch.Now sayst thou well.
(1.) Ye trust me now?
Ch.Ay, ay: if thou canst kill him.
(1.) Obey me, and I will lead you forth to-night.
1960
Ch. What to do?
(1.) Hush ye! Our careless sentinel
Must soon return. Let him not see us here.
Begone, and some take up this food and wine,
Which we may share below to help our strength,
Hiding it 'neath your garments, as do I
The sword. With silent step troop to your shades.
[Exeunt. As they go out the stage darkens quite.
Re-enter K. and Sala, Left. There is light on them from the doorway, where they stand awhile.
K. Come forth and see!
Sa.The night hath wrapped thy deed
In fourfold darkness, that I should not see.
K. Thine eyes are straitened by the light within:
’Tis not so dark but we shall see anon.
1970
Sa. I have loved thee, sire, so well: served thee so long....
K. What sayst thou?
Sa.I complain ’tis ill-repaid.
I am ill-repaid.
K.Sala!
Sa.Prince Ferdinand
Had given me life.
K.Stay. Why harbourest thou still
That grudge against me? Didst thou read her letter
I gave thee?
Sa.I did.
K.Thou didst: and canst not guess?
To save her life I yielded. I consented
To make this man my son. If he would live
And give up Ceuta, then I promised him
Almeh to wife.
Sa.What hear I?
K.When he refused,
I smote him through.
Sa.Refused!
1980
K.There where he sits.
Sa. Can this be truth?
K.Ay, by the prophet. Ha!
He is gone.
Sa.Nay, none is here.
K.He hath yet found strength
To crawl away to die. ’Twill not be far.
Hark! heardst thou that? Again.[Sighing heard.
Sa. ’Twas some one sighed.
K. ’Twas that way, Sala: seek about.
Sa.The moon
Is up, but curtained by yon inky cloud,
Cannot shine forth. Let me go fetch a lantern.
K. Go, go. I will watch here. [Exit Sala.
Why should I fear?
I’ll draw my sword. (Calling.) Ferdinand!
(The sighing again.) If thou canst speak, say where thou art.
Answer me: Dost thou live? nay, sigh not so.
If yet thou livest I think I would abate. (The sighing.)
Now ’tis here, now ’tis there. Thank heaven, the moon:
(Moon appears, and shews ghost of Ferdinand midway back.)
I see him. He stands upright! Prince Ferdinand!
He walketh from me. Stay. I bid thee stand,—
By heaven, or I will slay thee. Villain, traitor!
[Goes after ghost, makes a lunge at him, and ghost vanishes.
Re-enter Sala.
Sa. What noise is that? What, sire: with thy sword drawn!
K. Didst thou not see him?
Sa.The Prince?
K.Ay.
Sa.Was it the prince
You spake with?
K.Ay, he lives.
Sa.And drew you upon him?
2000
K. I called to him, Sala, and he made away:
I followed him to stay him.
Sa.Thank God, he lives.
You did not strike him.
Sa. ’Tis now like day. I see him nowhere, sire.
K. He hath hid himself. Look, Sala; search about.
I’ll sit awhile. See; why the food is gone,
The food that he refused. He hath eaten all.
His weakness was but feigned.
Sa.I’ll search about.
K. He stood and walked upright as if unhurt.
Yet how, unless he be a devil in flesh
Could he have 'scaped my mortal thrust?
2010
Sa. (in the arbour).Alas!
He is here, he is dead.
K.How now! he is dead?[Goes to arbour.
Sa. (coming out). He is slain.
May heaven forgive thee! (Aside.) Murdered, most basely murdered,
And by this shifty, inconsiderate king.
Murdered for pride; because he would not take
The gift that was begrudged. Oh, Almeh, Almeh,
Thou hadst a noble and a gentle lover.
K. (re-entering). How came he there, Sala? How could I see him?
’Tis true he is dead and cold.
Sa.The Christian captives
Have caused our error. They have eaten the food,
And laid their prince’s body in the bower:
It was their sighing that we heard, re-echoed
From the deep pit.
K.By heaven,
I saw him, Sala, when the moon shone out:
He stood upright before me; while I spoke
He walked away.
Sa.’Tis like your majesty
Hath been deluded by some airy vision
Bred in the troubled brain.
K.Nay, he was there.
Sa. The spirits of the dead have power to fix
The image of their presence in the place
Where life was robbed: there are a thousand stories
Of such frail apparitions.
Enter Messenger.
2031
K.Who cometh here?
MESSENGER.
Your majesty’s command.
K.I know thee: speak.
Mess. The scouts returned report the Christians camped
To north of Alrah on the stream’s left bank.
They do not hold the hill, and set no guard
Save on their front.
K.What numbers are they guessed?
Mess. At some four thousand: and prince Ferdinand
Is with them.
K.Who?
Mess.The scouts, your majesty,
Spake of prince Ferdinand’s escape. They saw him
Ride at full speed into the Christian camp.
K. When saw they him?
Mess.At dusk.
K.It could not be.
Mess. They tell he galloped thro’their company.
They might have touched him. When they called his name
He took no heed. Some fired their pieces at him:
And some pursued: but he, as tho’his horse
Were winged, held on, nor ever turned his head,
And soon was out of reach.
K.Enough. Begone. [Exit Messenger.
I knew I had seen him, Sala: ’tis his spirit.
What is thy counsel?
Sa.Think no more of this.
Take a sufficient force within the walls:
The rest entrenched upon the hill without,
We must abide their coming on at dawn.
K. What is your force?
Sa.At most eight hundred men.
K. We are so o’ermatched, Sala, I shall not wait,
I shall assault their camp to-night. The darkness
Will hide our numbers: we will steal upon them.
Sa. I pray you, sire, be well advised. Consider,
If our small force be sundered in the darkness....
K. The darkness is our friend. We know the ground.
Would I could blot the moon from heaven to-night.
My plan is fixed. Take thou five hundred men
And steal upon their rear, when battle joins
I with the rest will charge their front.
Sa.My duty
Bids me dissuade thee, ere I can obey.
K. I am brave to fight, Sala: but not to wait;
I will not wait an hour; nay, not an instant.
Thou wilt not move me. Not a word, I bid thee.
’Tis my last hope. Come, get thy men together:
If once they hear these hellish tales, we are lost.
