ACT III.
(Stifling heat. Although the sun is shining, a heavy black cloud is creeping from the East and the air is charged with a presentiment of a dreadful thunderstorm. From time to time runners, out of breath, enter, ascend the staircase and disappear within the palace. All await the royal cortege in vague alarm.)
People
(amongst themselves).
It is dreadful! What is it?
I don’t know myself. There’s nothing to fear;
Nothing bad will happen to us.
You see the golden cock is not beating his wings,
And is sticking up in the sun!
He warms his back and keeps silent.
If there was any misfortune he would awaken.
Look at that sullen, heavy cloud
Coming up from the East.
It carries evil in its dark depths.
There will be rain in the city;
Yes, and with thunder, even hail as well.
(The Royal Housekeeper, Amelfa, appears on the upper steps of the stairway. All rush towards her.)
People
(bowing).
Be kind! Honoured mother,
And tell us if the Army is safe.
Are we to have peace, or misfortune?
You know. There were runners.
Amelfa
(curtly).
There were. Only it is no affair of yours.
Away with you! That is all I have to say.
People.
Be merciful! Our hearts are sore.
(Many of them run to Amelfa and try to kiss the hem of her dress. She pushes them away.)
Amelfa.
Go away!
(Wishing to get rid of them.)
Here’s the news!
You see, there are four Kings—
Hearts, Spades, Clubs, and Diamonds;
Our King has conquered them.
He has saved from the Dragon’s jaws
A Royal Maiden.
She will be our Queen!
People
(without any special joy).
Well! We shall have a holiday!
But where are our hope—the Princes?
Amelfa.
The King has put them in chains
And has punished them with a cruel death.
People
(shuddering).
Ah! Heavy is the Royal hand!
What did they do?
Amelfa
(indifferently).
They had bad luck.
Something awaits you, too!
(threateningly.)
People
(scratching their heads and stupidly smiling).
We are yours, body and soul;
If we are beaten we have deserved it.
(A sound of trumpets is heard.)
Amelfa.
They are coming! Jump like goats—
Turn somersaults for very joy.
Greet the King loudly—
But do not expect mercy.
(Threatening them once again with her finger, Amelfa enters the palace. The triumphant procession begins to pass by. First come the Royal Warriors, on foot and mounted, with faces puffed up with pride. Then the suite of The Queen of Shemakhan, of as many colours and as fantastic as those in Eastern fairy tales. There are giants and dwarfs, people with one eye in the middle of their forehead, people with horns, with heads like a dog, negros and negro boys, female slaves covered with veils carrying coffers and precious plate. The curious splendour of the procession disperses for a time the weight of expectation. All become as gay as children.)
(The golden chariot appears with the King and Queen. The King has aged somewhat, has become restless, has lost his majestic carriage, and all the time looks fondly into the eyes of the haughty Queen. The Queen capriciously turns away, expressing her secret impatient irritation by jerky movements. The People move about, jump, turn somersaults, and shout a joyful welcome.)
People
(shouting).
Long life to thee! Hurrah!
May thou have every good thing!
(Begin to sing.)
“We are thy faithful servants,
Who kiss the Royal feet.
We are glad to serve thee,
To amuse thee with our foolishness,
To box for thee upon a holiday,
To bark, to crawl on all fours,
So that thy hours may flow quickly
And may bring sweet sleep.
Without thee we should have no
Reason for existing;
For thee we were born
And for thee we have had children.”
(The Astrologer appears in the portico of one of the houses, in the same blue garment and high hat. Having observed the Astrologer, the Queen looks at him long and steadfastly. The King, wishing to descend, is stopped by the Queen, who points out the Astrologer to him.)
Queen of Shemakhan
(uneasily).
Who is that standing there in the white hat
And with hair as white as a swan?
(The crowd parts before the Astrologer, and is dumb with expectation. The Queen follows his movements.)
King Dodon
(delighted to see his old acquaintance).
Ah! It’s thou, my wise man,
My benefactor and father!
What hast thou to say to us on this festal occasion?
Come nearer! What dost thou ask of us?
(The Astrologer wends his way through the crowd to the chariot, not taking his eyes off the Queen.)
Astrologer.
Great King! It is I.
Let us settle matters as friends.
Dost thou remember that in return for an obligation
Thou didst swear, in transports of delight, to fulfil
My first wish as if it were thy own?
Give the maiden to me—
The Queen of Shemakhan.
King Dodon
(trying to bring The Astrologer to his senses).
What! Has the devil got into thee?
Or hast thou lost thy senses?
What has got into thy head?
Away with thee, before I injure thee!
Drag the old man away!
(The guards drag The Astrologer away. He resists.)
Astrologer.
Is it to be thus?
King Dodon
(raging).
Art thou going to argue again?
I shall show thee how to argue with me!
(Strikes him on the forehead with his sceptre. He falls down dead. All the people shudder. The sun goes behind a cloud and a clap of thunder is heard.)
Queen of Shemakhan
(laughing to herself).
Ha! Ha! Ha! I am not afraid of sin.
(Dodon very agitated, but still smiles fondly upon The Queen.)
King Dodon
(superstitiously).
I hope it will not bring misfortune
On the eve of marriage!
It is not good to shed blood upon a wedding day!
Queen of Shemakhan
(curtly).
There will be a scuffle at the banquet—
That is all.
King Dodon
(tranquilly, in a caressing tone).
Let us kiss each other—
To drive away the evil omen!
(Dodon tries to embrace and kiss The Queen. She, with anger and aversion, pushes him away.)
Queen of Shemakhan.
May thou perish, wicked monster!
And thy people!
How can the earth endure such as you?
Wait! Grey-headed babbler!
Thy death is not far off!
King Dodon
(smiling pitifully).
Thou art still joking, my dear!
Queen of Shemakhan.
No! Already we have had a sorry jest.
(They ascend the staircase. Suddenly the cock begins to fly and circles above their heads. All wave him off with their hands.)
Voice of the Bird.
Cock-a-doodle-do!
I shall peck the old man on the crown of his head!
Chorus.
Sh! Sh! Sh! Sh!
(The Cock pecks Dodon on the head, and he falls dead. A clap of thunder. All struck dumb. For a moment total darkness, in which is heard the quiet laugh of The Queen. When it grows light again neither Queen nor the bird is seen.)
People
(to each other, in astonishment).
Where is the Queen?
She has vanished
As if she had never been at all!
(Hopefully.)
Is the King groaning?
(Sadly.)
No! He is dead—if it is not all a dream!
(Crushed by despair, the people finally break into mournful sobbing.)
The King is dead! Our dear one is killed!
Our happy, our debonnair, and
Never-to-be-forgotten King!
Lord of Lords!
He was most wise,
And ruled the Kingdom with his
Hands folded, lying at his ease.…
It’s true! Our King in anger
Was like a thunderbolt from the heaven,
Which strikes at random,
Carrying destruction right and left,
But when the cloud is passed
The heavy air is fresher,
And the King, like the golden dawn,
Lightens all without distinction.
(In perplexity.)
What will a new dawn bring?
How shall we live without a King?
(They fall on their faces and weep inconsolably.)
CURTAIN.