ACT · V
Moonlight. ALMEH entering, followed by ZAPEL.
ZAPEL.
2070
My lady, I pray come back.
The night is sharp and cold: thou art not clad
To encounter its brisk sting.
ALMEH.
Nay, I must breathe.
I fell into a stifling slumber, Zapel;
And woke affrighted in a sweat of terror.
Za. For heaven’s sake, lady, let thy spirit be soothed:
Thou killest thyself.
Al. Air, air! that from the thousand frozen founts
Of heaven art rained upon the drowsy earth,
And gathering keenness from the diamond ways
Of faery moonbeams visitest our world
To make renewal of its jaded life,
Breathe, breathe! ’Tis drunken with the stolen scents
Of sleeping pinks: heavy with kisses snatched
From roses, that in crowds of softest snow
Dream of the moon upon their blanchèd bowers.
I drink, I drink.
Za.If thou wilt tarry here,
Let me go fetch thy cloak.
Al.Where is my father?
Za. He is not in the castle.
Al.Where is Sala?
I must speak with him.
Za.They are both sallied forth
To assault the Christian camp.
2090
Al.O then ’twas true
The noise I heard. They are fighting: ’twas the guns,
The shouts I heard. I thought ’twas in my ears.
—I have had strange visions, Zapel, these last days:
’Twere past belief what I have seen and heard.
I’ll tell thee somewhat when I have time—O love,
If thou wouldst be my muse,
I would enchant the sun;
And steal the silken hues,
Whereof his light is spun:
And from the whispering way
Of the enarching air
Look with the dawn of day
Upon the countries fair.
Za. See, I will fetch thy cloak. [Exit.
Why all’s so quiet. Sweet peace, thou dost lie.
Men steal forth silently to kill: they creep,
That they may spring to murder. Who would think,
Gazing on this fair garden, as it lieth
Lulled by the moonlight and the solemn music
Made everlastingly by the grave sea,
That ’twas a hell of villany, a dungeon
Of death to its possessors. Death.—
Za. (re-entering). Here is thy cloak.
Al.Away! what dost thou think,
Zapel, of death? I’ll tell thee. Nay, I promise
I’ve much to tell.—Thou’st heard, when one is dead,
An angel comes to him where he lies buried,
And bids him sit upright, and questions him
Of Islam and Mohammet. ’Tis not so.
For in my dream I saw the spirits of men
Stand to be judged: along the extended line
Of their vast crowd in heaven, that like the sea
Swayed in uncertain sheen upon the bounds
Of its immensity, nor yet for that
Trespassed too far upon the airy shores,
I gazed. The unclouded plain, whereon we stood,
Had no distinction from the air above,
Yet lacked not foothold to that host of spirits,
In all things like to men, save for the brightness
Of incorruptible life, which they gave forth.
Wondering at this I saw another marvel:
They were not clothed nor naked, but o’er each
A veil of quality or colour thrown
Shewed and distinguished them, with bickering glance
And gemlike fires, brighter or undiscerned.
As when the sun strikes on a sheet of foam
The whole is radiant, but the myriad globes
Are red or green or blue, with rainbow light
Caught in the gauzy texture of their coats,—
So differed they. Then, as I gazed, and saw
The host before me was of men, and I
In a like crowd of women stood apart,
The judgment, which had tarried in my thought,
Began: from out the opposèd line of men
Hundreds came singly to the open field
To take their sentence. There, as each stepped forth,
An angel met him, and from out our band
Beckoned a woman spirit, in whose joy
Or gloom his fate was written. Nought was spoken,
And they who from our squadron went to judge
Seemed, as the beckoning angel, passionless.
Woman and man, ’twas plain to all that saw
Which way the judgment went: if they were blessed,
A smile of glory from the air around them
Gathered upon their robes, and music sounded
To guide them forward: but to some it happed
That darkness settled on them. As a man
Who hears ill tidings wraps his cloak about him,
For grief, and shrouds his face, not to be seen;
So these by their own robes were swallowed up,
Which thinned to blackness and invisible darkness,
And were no more. Thus, while I wondered much
How two fates could be justly mixed in one,
Behold a man for whom the beckoning angel
Could find no answering woman, and I watched
What sentence his should be; when I myself
Was 'ware that I was called. A radiant spirit
Waited for me. I saw prince Ferdinand:—
Go tell him that I am here.
Za.I cannot, lady.
Al. The king and Sala are gone forth to fight:
There’s none can know. Be not afraid. Obey,
Za. Alas! alas!
Al.Why dost thou stand and wail?
Za. Oh, I would serve thee; alas! but ’tis too late.
Al. Too late! how is’t too late? If he were dead....
Za. Lady, bear up, I pray thee: for ’tis sure
Thy dream betrayed the truth.
Al.The truth! Alas!
Thou dost believe he is dead. Why, folly, think
How could I then be living? It could not be
That I, a feeble woman, full of faintings
And fears, were more enduring to outlast
The pangs of hunger than is he, a man
Whom hardship hath inured. Nay, while I live
He must be living.
Za.True it is he is dead.
Al. Thou art suborned: thou liest, thou dost.
Confess.
Za.O nay.
Al.Now God have pity, or thou hast lied.
But thou hast lied. Didst thou not say the king
Sent for him forth? Didst thou not know the cause?
His brother has returned in force to take him.
Didst thou not see the dungeon door set wide?
And dar’st lie thus?
Za. (aside).Alas! what can I say?
(To A.) Here is a chair: I pray thee sit awhile,
I will go find him if I may.
2191
Al. (aside).She lied.
Now she will fetch him. (To Za.) Where’s the seat?
Za.Here, here.
Al. I am dizzy. Lead me to it. Go fetch the prince.
Za. Be comforted.
Al.Who hath sat here, I say?
Who hath sat here?
Za.Prithee be comforted.
Za.Verily we are God’s,
And unto Him return.
Al.Thou, thou! Begone.
Stay, Zapel, here: give me my cloak. I am cold.
Since I must die ... think not this strange, I pray.
Bring food to me.
2200
Za.Thank God. ’Tis the sea air
Hath quickened thee.
Al.Thinkst thou that vexèd monster
Hath any physic in his briny breath
For grief like mine?
Za.Lady, have better heart.
Why, thou must live. When once thy tears have fallen
Thou wilt be comforted.
Al.How should I weep?
Bid men weep who with their light-hearted sin
Make the world’s misery: bid women weep
Who have been untrue to love and hope: but I,
Why should I weep? Begone: bring me food here.
Za. O that I am glad to do. Thank God for this.
[Exit.
Al. Why did she lie to me? Had they a plot
To make me think he is dead? Sala’s my friend:
Sala sent word of hope: and if he lives
All may be saved. Nay, if he be not gone,
If yet he is in the castle, I may find him.
I’ll give him food: we will steal forth together:
I have marked the way: and by the rocks of the shore
We may lie hid till we may reach the camp.
Now would I had kept my strength. Had I foreseen
This chance.... There’s none about. ’Tis not too late. [Noise of guns and fighting heard.
I may dare call. Prince Ferdinand! Good heart,
What noise of battle. Pray God he be not there.
Against my sire now I pray God: I pray
Our men be driven back: yet not too soon.
Ferdinand! Ferdinand! Heaven grant there’s none
To hear but he: and he will never hear me
Calling so fearfully, so faintly.... Alas!
Better to seek him. Since he is not within,
He must be in this garden. He will have sought
Some shelter from the night.—Ah! the arbour ...
there.... [Goes to arbour.
Why, here. Wake, Ferdinand, wake! Come, ’tis I,
We may escape. Come. Nay, this cannot be.
Ah, God!—not this. Have pity; undo it, revoke;
O let thy hand for once undo.
Thou mightest, O Thou mightest. Ah, how cold.
Oh! oh! he is murdered. Blood, his blood. ’Tis true.
Dead, and my dream, my fate, my love; ’tis done.
The end. Nay, God, as Thou art God, I trust Thee;
Take me with him. Here in this bower of death
I leave my body,—to this pitiless world
Of hate: and to thy peaceful shores of joy
I arise. O Ferdinand! me thou didst love.
Thou didst kiss, once ... and these thy lips so cold
I kiss once more. I have no fear: I come.
[Dies, falling on Ferdinand’s body.
Scuffling at back of stage, the guard runs forward, followed by the Chorus.
GUARD.
Some fiend hath pierced my back in the dark.
CHORUS.
Hey, fellow;
Silence, or I will slay thee. ’Tis well; he is dead.—
—Silently, silently.—Stay, stay. Which way?—
Here o’er the wall.—Hark thou, there’s fighting there—
Our men have driven them back—we be too late.—
They will return—See where they climb the wall.
[The shouting and firing are grown quite near, and some figures are seen through the trees scaling the wall from without.
2251
Ch. Who be they? See, they are swarming in the castle—
Our men, ’tis they. We are saved.—Make not too sure—
Best hide among the trees—Hide, hide.—I’ll take
The pagan’s scimitar.[They retire among trees.
Enter left through the door a few Moorish soldiers, followed by the king, whom Enrique pursues.
SOLDIERS.
To the walls! to the walls!—
Too late—they are here.
ENRIQUE (to K.).
Thy sword. Give up thy sword.
KING.
Curse thee. I defy thee.
En.Thy sword, or I shall slay thee.
K. Never.
Ho! villains, rally. ’Tis the prince Enrique.
Kill him, and save me.
En.A rescue! a rescue!
K.Die,
Accursed infidel: but ere thou die....
[The soldiers set on Enrique with the king.
This hand that slayeth thee, hath slain thy brother.
En. May God forgive thee if thou speak truth.
The Captives rush out from the trees and overpower the soldiers, the armed of them kill the king as he fights with Enrique.
Ch.A rescue!
Revenge—revenge.
K. Ha! treachery, ho! I am slain.[Falls dead.
En. Now who be ye?
Ch.Your own men, Prince; the captives.
En. Praised be God! ye have saved my life.
The Christian soldiers who were scaling the wall now come forward.
CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS.
Victory! victory!
The castle is taken.
En.Some go seize the towers.
Make speed: there may be men we know not of.
Take store of ammunition. [Some run off.
Enter more Christian soldiers by door (L.), leading Sala prisoner.
1st Soldier. Here is the general taken.
En.Sala ben Sala!
2270
Sa. ’Tis I.
En.Give me thy sword.
Sa.I give it thee. [Gives.
En. Is the day ours?
Sa.The night is yours.
What force is in the castle?
Sa.There is none.
Where is the king?
En.See thou. But where’s my brother?
Sa. What! slain! the king!
En.I bade him render his sword:
But, when he saw I stood alone before him,
He made a rally of some beaten men
Who had fled with him; and so provoked his death
At the hands of his own prisoners, who ran
Upon him from the trees and cut him down.
2280
Sa. By their hands fell he on this spot?
En.’Twas so.
Sa. O justest stroke of fate. ’Twas here he slew
The prince thy brother.
En.Tell me not, I pray,
That brag of his was true.
Sa.Alas, ’tis true.
En. My brother is dead! Ferdinand, Ferdinand!
Sa. Thy grief is as my shame.
En.Eternal shame.
He who spared thee: your royal prisoner,
Murdered.
Sa.Forbear. I’ll lead thee where he lies.
See thou, he is in the bower.
En. (approaching bower). Ah! my brave brother!
Is thy proud spirit no more? But what is this?
Who is this woman that with eager arms
Embraceth his pale corpse?
Sa. (pressing forward). How sayst thou? Almeh.
Dead, dead.
En.Not so, she is warm.
Sa.Almeh. Sweet’st Almeh
O nay, she is dead. Ah, loveliest child of earth,
Is thy young bloom perished? Alas! alas!
Is this thy end? O miserable king,
What hast thou done?
Chorus.
Alma is dead! Alma the fair!—
By love of Ferdinand whelmed in his fate.—
Lament her, O lament.
(1.) Joy of our heavy prison; Ch. Rescued too late—
Beauty too fair. (1.) Ah! surely in earth’s prison....
2302
Ch. A mortal as immortal made—
O unforeseen her end! Lament, lament!
(1.) Our woe is a storm, our hope the fringe of a shade,
The smile of a cloud by tempest rent.
Ch. A dawn in vain arisen—
Alma is dead:
And we, to our superfluous prayer
Permitted still, our lives have won,—
Shaking in fear to be untimely undone,—
By long misdoing undone, unworthy who were;—
Saved by her, but saved too late.
Alma the fair,
Our Alma is dead.
En. What mean these words?
Sa.O prince,
The woes so suddenly befallen us here
Make a long tale. In brief, these whom thou seest
Embraced in death, were drawn in life together
By love’s o’ermastering bond. Fate’s stroke at me
Is that I live to tell it.
2320
En.And was’t for that
Thy king slew Ferdinand?
Sa.That was not all:
For Satan did persuade our thwarteous king
To make a godless bargain of their loves:
He would have given his daughter to the Prince
As Ceuta’s price. When he refused, ’twas then
In pride and wrath he slew him.
En.Alas, my brother.
Inflexible in honour against thyself.
If but for a day thou hadst seemed to make consent,
All had been well.
Sa.Not well for him. He lived
And died with tongue as faithful as his soul.
Ch. He tells not all. Maybe he doth not know.
En. What’s more to tell?
Ch.O sir, the princess here,
Who loved thy brother, learned the faith of us.
Her name is Alma. She is a Christian.
Sa.Yea,
’Tis true. I knew it. I would have hidden it from thee.
In this we are shamèd most. Prince Ferdinand
Conquered us here. His love and not his arms
Wove our disaster.
Ch.Love and faith have conquered.
Yet did his sword no less avenge his death.
See, prince, ’tis here, wet with the murderer’s blood.
It savèd thee. For this we may rejoice:
And that we shall return.
En. Ye shall return. But now ’tis not an hour
For your rejoicing. Still your tongues. And, Sala,
It lies with thee in place of thy king dead
To treat with me. Here is thy sword: and thus
[Giving.
I wipe out debt; knowing that thou hast been
Generous and faithful to my hapless brother.
Let us make peace. Possess you what was yours
Before this war: I shall lead back my troops,
Nor vex your kingdom further. But I claim
The body of your princess, to inter
In Christian ground. One grave shall hold these lovers.
Sa. I would not separate them,—Heaven be my witness,—
But shouldst thou bury Almeh in some spot
Whereto I might not come, there’s nothing left
For Sala on this earth but still to fight,
To gain possession of that holy tomb.
En. Fear not, for I will have their sepulchre
In Ceuta, and there to thee it shall be granted
To enter when thou wilt.
2361
Sa.I loved her, prince,
Before thy brother.
En.For myself, I vow
Ne’er to draw sword again. I count all days
That ever I spent in arms lost to my life.
Man’s foe is ignorance: and the true soldier
May sit at home, and in retirement win
Kingdoms of knowledge; or to travel forth
And make discovery of earth’s bounds, and learn
What nations of his fellows God hath set
In various countries; and by what safe roads
They may knit peaceful commerce,—this is well,
And this hath been my choice. To shed man’s blood
Brings but such ills on man as here ye see.
To save my brother and these Christian captives
I drew this sword, which thus I sheathe again
For ever.
Ch.Thou wilt lead us home.
En.Peace! peace!
So much is saved. Now have ye mournful duty
Unto the dead. Bring ye these lovers in.
Let there be no more speech.
THE HUMOURS
OF
THE COURT
A COMEDY
IN THREE ACTS
