[He runs off to look for his Nurse, shouting the last words again and again.
King Hector. “Laugh on poor little ‘would-be gutter snipe,’ Laugh and love Nature whilst thou canst, my boy; ’Twill soon be torn from thee to fabricate That Human being docked of Liberty. Now to Isola’s letter. What says she! This offcast woman, whom I once called wife.” (Reads aloud) “Let me speak to you, Hector. I will speak. You must and shall do justice to Vergli, You must and shall acknowledge him as heir, You must and shall honour Merani’s name, You must and shall teach Bernis to be true, Each day I’ll send this message to you, King, Until it takes possession of your heart, And though I am no longer nigh to speak, I’ll cry it to you daily from afar. And this, too, will I cry each day be sure— You shall not always be a puppet King, But lead your people and your Government To do away with antiquated law, And cast aside a false and senseless creed, Which bolsters up innumerable wrongs And rushes in the face of Evolution. Hector, you must give freedom to Vulnar, He has a noble soul a kindly heart. What is his crime? He freed your son from death. He is an outlaw for that reason, King, You shall not punish him who saved your son. You shall cast off your shackles and be just, You shall not teach our child to be a thief, Or act a lie, or filch his brother’s name. Bernis, of course, by law is yours, Hector; A man-made law gives him to you not me, But Nature’s law declares that he is mine Far beyond yours. Yes, Bernis is my child. I did not want him. He was forced on me. I did not marry you of my free will. They killed Escanior and you purchased me To be your law wife, Church-blessed chattel slave. But all this cannot alter the great fact That Bernis is our child and, though by law You take him and deny my right to him, I am his Mother. Yes, he is my child By an inexorable sacred law, Which man-made laws may flout but cannot kill; And so I tell you, Hector, guard the child, Make him what Isola would have made him. I do not plead with you I say you shall, You shall bring up my child as I desire. Yes, you may smile and scoff at Isola, Think you she cannot read your inmost heart? Deep down therein there is a fount of love Which royal schooling has both checked and plugged, But which is bubbling at its source ne’erless. It shall o’ercome your royal slavery And make you a just Ruler, not a tool. Thus, Hector, shall I speak to you each day, You’ll hear my voice whisp’ring around your brain And fear not they shall find an entrance there.”
Hector (laying the letter down): “Isola, thy words are ever whispering, They haunt my mind at all and every hour. Undoubtedly I loved you, Merani, And by God’s law you were my wife, indeed; And Vergli is the Prince of Scota, too. But I was reared not to think in this way, And so I did not know the crime I did, When I bought Isola, yes, bought that girl, And raised her up my puppet, Consort Queen. Poor Merani forgive me. Dead days rise And come again from out that vanished past When we were lovers, and for love of me, You braved the world’s cold scorn and stood by me My Nature-wedded wife, faithful and true, Loving and helpful, yet too proud to swear The senseless formula prescribed by law, Which ordered you to swear to be my slave. Yet were we man and wife by register, Which took our promise to be man and wife, And married us before the God of Heav’n. Then State expediency tore me away And gave me a girl wife, unwilling bride, Who loved another and denied me love— Yet whom the law gave me as lawful Queen. I loved Isola, Merani forgive; I could not help it. Yet she wronged you not. She always spoke of you with true respect And said you were my wife, she but a slave. Then you went forward. After that she bowed To Natural law and called herself my wife. But her proud spirit would not brook restraint, Nor act the puppet part of Consort Queen. When I and Sanctimonious sought to force This part undignified upon her, she Left me and sought the refuge of her home. I claimed her back, but Bernia’s Prince refused To yield his sister up; and so our Church And State divorced her, made her an outcast And left, of course, the child to be my care. Merani, you so kind, with heart so large, Will understand and will forgive the King. Oh! sorry fate. How long must I sham on? How long must I approve what I detest, And be a slave? What! sign my son’s death warrant? Never! I will not murder my own child. Thank goodness he escaped, and yet, alas! If they should catch young Fortunatus and Arrest Vulnar, the law will hang these men As murderers of the policeman Grett; And I shall sign approving warrant, I, The father of Vergli whose life they saved. Was ever man more sorely tried than I? Oh! sorry, sorry fate to be a King.”
Enter Larrar: “Sire, there is most important news arrived.” (Reads) “‘Three masterly arrests have just been made— Of Vulnar, Scrutus and young Fortunatus. One of their followers turned traitor and Betrayed the hiding place where Vergli lurked. Young Fortunatus, though entrapped himself, Managed to send a warning to Vergli; He and Vulnar and Scrutus stood their ground And held the entrance to their chief’s retreat. Fearing that Vergli would refuse to fly And leave the others to their fate, the youth Resorted to a subterfuge, saying Vergli must meet them on the Bawn co Pagh, Whither they were retiring. He knew well That once on Bawn co Pagh, the citadel And fortress of Vulnar, Vergli was safe And midst a band of men true to his cause; But for this cunning message here detailed, Vergli would have returned to aid his friends And been entrapped and made a prisoner. E’en as it was the others might have fled, But had they done so would have doomed Vergli; And so they fought it out and thus gained time, But were at length o’ercome and captive made.’ The name of him who worked this clever ruse By which this mountain hiding place was found, Is Judath, who feigned fealty to their cause But turned informer and betrayed them all.”
King Hector (aside): “Curses upon him. Black-souled son of Hell, Monster of foul and base iniquity.” (To Larrar) “So, so, they’ve caught the three who murdered Grett; Now will the law avenge itself, the mob Wreak its all-fathomless resentment on The men whom Judath has so deftly nailed. And I, yes I, must bow with smothered love Crying within my bosom to my soul, And sign the rights of these men to fair life Away into the black abyss of wrong. Larrar, what piteous fate e’er made me King?”
Larrar. “Not fate, Sire. You can cast the title off And just become an ordinary man. Children like dolls, the grown-up child likewise Makes you its doll and pays you for your trouble. What are you, Sire, but the paid servant of A government of nondescript creation? You do its work and call yourself a King. I am your servant, but you in your turn Are mine, because I am part of that state Which pays the piper to pipe forth its tune. Vergli would have the King part of the State, The chairman, so to say, one with real pow’r. Paid, but a real King, not a mere cypher To whom men bow, although but to a slave. Were you a real King you could speak your mind And guide your peers and people to be fair, Or influence them to espouse the right. I say not Kings should be all absolute, But they should be Chairmen of the State. At least this is the creed preached by Vergli And long ago his words converted me, I am at heart an Evolutionist.”
King Hector (aside): “And I, too. Who would be the farce I am?” (To Larrar) “Larrar, you are presuming. Have a care, Kings’ waiting-men are servants, too, you know; A waiting groom and waiting lord are paid. If I’m a puppet, all who wait on me Are puppets, too! What shall we call the thing Which this queer puppet-mixture has evolved? Merry-go-round or Humbug spinning round? I think the latter, ’tis more suitable; For Humbug is in the ascendant now And Sham the Idol of Society, And over all King Hector spreads his wings; Shall they be free wings or their pinioned stumps?”
[He walks towards the Castle, musing.
SCENE II.
On the ramparts of Bawn co Pagh Castle. Vergli and Verita, the latter in male attire, are pacing up and down conversing earnestly.