Dear saint,
Is this a vision or a waking truth
In which I see thee, smiling on my hopes,
As only visions smile on Jack-a-dreams?
How often have I dreamt between two battles
Thou stoodest thus above me in the dusk
Half joy, half courage!
FLERIDA. Haply't was my prayer,
For prayer hath wings to travel in the night.
PALMERIN. Didst thou remember
FLERIDA. Not as others pray.
What need of blessings to protest I loved thee,
When benediction rose with every breath
From my dumb heart to thee? Awake, adream,
In woodland rambles or in household tasks,
I moved in thy love's presence as in God's,
One deity to me.
PALMERIN. How undeserving,
Fair angel, are my merits of thy love!
How could I win it!
FLERIDA. Ah, if God can love thee,
Why should a mortal give a cause for love?
PALMERIN. They say God loves us all.
FLERIDA. Such pitying love
Is his alone who knows the unsullied spirit
Shrouded at birth beneath this fleshly coil,
And can divine the stature of that virtue
Each yet might climb to. But in thee declared
Shine, Palmerin, the hopes of all the world.
What God beheld and destined when he called thee
Out of the void, he granted me to see
First through the haze of maiden dreams and now
With the deep glance of woman.
PALMERIN. Then in sooth
'T was no vain fancy, as the learned say,
That made thy silent presence cross my path
Where'er I turned, for if I slept my dream
Painted thy smile, and when the vision fled
The sunlit fountain met me with thy gaze.
If the birds chirruped, it was Flerida,
And Flerida if any minstrel sang.
Thy mien was in the lilies, the thin clouds
Contrived thy garments' fashion, and thy courage
Breathed from the mountains to renew my soul.
Nor was there need, for in these tables here
Thy name, thy looks, thy words, thy noble ways
Were graven deep, and, as the gaudy shadows
Stalked by me which men take for beauteous thing,
I laughed to scorn each feeble counterfeit,
And cried to the sweet image in my soul
How much more bright thou wast and beautiful.
Little I thought the love that brought me blessing
Brought sorrow here to thee.
FLERIDA. If it brought sorrow
That grief was consecrate and offered up
To aid thy noble venture. 'T was my hope
That thy young sinews in a dreamless sleep
Might knit them for the battle, while my vigils
Kept trimmed thy spirit's lamp; so might thy valour,
Fed on my sorrow's riches, greet the morn
With more unsullied and resplendent rays
Than her own shining, and the wondering world
Should praise thy happy courage, little knowing
The hidden might of love that nerved thy arm
And taught thy blithe soul singing.
PALMERIN. Flerida,
Though I should give thee all ray life and blood,
My honour and immortal soul, 't were nothing
By what thou gavest first, and rendering all
That should owe thee this sweet privilege
Of having lived and loved thee.
Re-enter NURSE.
NURSE. Loitering still?
Come, come, the supper's spoiling.
FLERIDA [pointing to the castle]. Wilt thou take
Possession of thy poor inheritance?
PALMERIN. 'Tis poor indeed, a case without its jewel,
Till thou be mine.
FLERIDA. Thou hast my plighted troth.
PALMERIN. Ah, pay the debt! my heart has waited long.
FLERIDA. No priest is in attendance, Palmerin.
Till one be duly summoned and arrive
I am my father's hostage in thy hands
Entrusted to thy love and chivalry.
PALMERIN. I long have bivouacked, lady, 'neath the stars,
And I shall better rest beneath their light
While I am still an exile from thy bosom.
Let me not change the canopy of heaven
Except for heaven's self. Before this shrine
I watched my virgin arms on the proud eve
Of my first knighting. On this prouder vigil
Let me hold silent session with my heart
Again before this altar, keeping watch
Over this sweeter boon, my virgin bride
To be to-morrow mine.
FLERIDA [to the NURSE]. Bid them bring hither
Some wine and morsels for Sir Palmerin,
And torches, and their lutes and dulcimers.
[Exit NURSE.
PALMERIN. We sup to-night beneath a lovers' moon
Not quite at full.
FLERIDA. We sup beneath the stars
That never wane, though nether storms obscure
Their revolutions to the wistful eyes
Of mortals. So our love shall never wane
But when its fame on earth is heard no more,
Translated to the language of the skies,
It yet shall be a parcel of that joy
Which saves the world from baseness.
Attendants with torches and musical instruments enter, while others bring in supper.
SONG.
Come make thy dwelling here
Where all sweet pleasures are.
For many a weary year
From mates and lady dear
Thou wanderest afar.
Come make thy dwelling here
Beneath love's golden star.
The battles' stress is o'er
That should thy worth approve.
Oh, follow now no more
The ruby star of war
That onward still must move.
Fixed shines above thy door
The golden star of love.
PALMERIN. Flerida,
What solace had thy orphaned life for thee
In this fair desert? Was not Ulric here
To lend thee succour?
FLERIDA. He was here, alas!
PALMERIN. Alas?
FLERIDA. That he proved false.
PALMERIN. I marvel. Speak.
FLERIDA. Ah me! A sorry tale.—He said the castle
As to my father's second came to him;
That I within it, as the world would think,
Must be his also. Doubtless thou wast dead,
Else tidings would have come. To save my honour
I must not wait, but bend to be his wife.
PALMERIN. Said Ulric so, that brave and trusty man?
Only some madness could transform his soul
So utterly.
FLERIDA. I question not the cause,
I mark the deed and brand the infamy.
When he had spoken and beheld me firm,
The coward threatened force. We were alone
And he unarmed; it was a woman's body,
Not a man's soul, he thought to cope withal.
My father's sword was hanging by the wall:
I drew the blade, and as he rushed to snatch it
Transfixed his body; at my feet he fell
Writhing; I cried for help. Then Gunther came
And the young Hugh. I published his offence,
And when the torment and the fever passed,
For my poor strength had left some breath in him,
Fettered and manacled they brought him forth
Into the hall, before my men-at-arms
And the red witness of his own foul blood
Staining the hearthstone; and I spoke and said:
"Unhappy Ulric, traitor to thy liege,
Whom on the cross thou tookest oath to serve,
Thou shalt await his sentence. When he comes
He shall know all and will decree thy forfeit.
But if he come not, thou shalt live in chains
Till God and death restore thy liberty."
PALMERIN. Is he still captive?
FLERIDA. In the northern tower,
Whence Hugh but now, whom Christian charity
Prompts oft to visit our sad prisoner,
Saw thee approach. Ulric has heard the news.
PALMERIN. Let him be brought.
FLERIDA [to the men-at-arms]. You hear my lord's command.—
Ah, Palmerin, when Christ returns to earth
Only the good shall welcome him; thy coming
Will bring thy faithless servant also joy,
For I foresee thy sentence,
PALMERIN. To be merciful
Is to be truly just.—Has he not mended
Or purged his sin in his captivity?
FLERIDA. Indeed, it seems he has. Hugh and the friar
Who daily visits him both bring report
Of many pious and profound discourses
With which he charms away his solitude.
God grant his wisdom may outlive its cause
And not forsake him now. For, see, he comes.
Re-enter the men-at-arms, leading in ULRIC, bound.
PALMERIN. Ulric, it wounds my soul to see thee thus.
Undo the fetters.
[ULRIC is freed.