BOOKS BY OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN
Published By CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

THE MORTAL GODS
AND OTHER PLAYS

THE MORTAL GODS
AND
OTHER PLAYS

BY
OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SON'S
1912

Copyright, 1912, by Charles Scribner's Sons
All rights reserved
Published November, 1912

CONTENTS

THE MORTAL GODS
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS

CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

ACT I

Scene: A vast room in the palace of Hudibrand. As the curtain rises the place is in darkness save for a circlet of gold apparently suspended in mid-air near the centre of the room. As the light increases, the outline of a man's figure becomes distinguishable, and the circlet is seen to be resting on his head. Gradually the rim of gold fades to invisibility, while the figure of the man and the contents of the room become clear to the eye. The man might be mistaken for an American citizen in customary evening dress. He is Hudibrand.

At the left are two entrances, upper and lower. Rear, left, large windows. The wall rear makes a right angle about centre, the apex of which is cut off by a window. Right of centre the room seems to extend endlessly rearward, and is arranged to suggest an upland grove in the delicate, venturing days of spring. The ground, rising a little toward right, is covered with winter moss and tufts of short silvered grass. The trees are young birch, slight maples in coral leaf, cornel in flower, and an occasional dark foil of cedar. A brooklet ripples down the slope and off rear. Birds chirp and flit, and now and then a breeze stirs the grove as if it were one tender body. The lights are arranged to give the effect of night or day as one wishes.

It is winter without, the climate of Assaria's capital city being similar to that of New York.

Double doors lower right, through which Count Dorkinski enters to Hudibrand.

Dor. Your majesty, Sir Borduc has arrived.

Hudi. Hot-shod. We'll let him cool.

Dor. Where shall he wait,
My lord?

Hud. His usual corner. Keep him off
My Delhi rug.
[Exit Dorkinski]
Poor Bordy's fuming ripe.

[Re-enter the Count]

Dor. His Excellency calls, your majesty.

Hud. Which Excellency? They are thick as hops.

Dor. The Governor of Peonia.

Hud. In time and tune.
We'll see him here.
[Exit Dorkinski]
A pawn of mine who'd push
Beyond his square, and I must humor him
'Neath meditative thumb.

[Enter Megario]

Hud. Welcome, Megario.

Meg. I've travelled far
To press your hand.

Hud. We made appointment here,
Knowing your visit to Assaria touched
Nothing of state or office.

Meg. [Accepting his cue] Nothing, sir. [Looks about him]
I thought I left the springtide in my rear,
Three thousand miles or so, but here it greets me.

Hud. A gimcrack of my daughter's. She would freak
With sun and time. My toyshop has no walls.
I juggle too with seasons, climates, zones,
But in the open where there's warrior room,
And startled Fate may spring against my will,
Giving an edge to mastery when I wrest
The whip from Nature, turn it on herself,
And set her elemental slaves to filch
Her gold for me. That, friend, is play.

Meg. For gods
And not as thief, but as divinity,
You take from crouching Nature.

Hud. Men have said
I pile up gold because its glitter soothes
A fever in my eyes. The clacking fools!
I am no Cheops making warts on earth.
No mummy brain! God built my pyramids,
Slaving through dark and chaos till there rose
My iron-hearted hills, and mountains locked
On ago-unyielded treasure waiting me.
There slept my gems till longing became fire
And broke the grip of stone,—there lay my gold,
Re-purged each thousand years till baited Time
Gave up the master's hour.

[Hernda has come from the grove and moves up to his side]

Her. [Adoringly] And you the master!

Hud. Daughter, you owe my lord Megario
Some pretty thanks.

Her. I give them, sir.

Meg. No, no!
I pray your Highness, no! My thanks to earth
That bears the flower of you, and to the light
That makes my eyes your beauty's treasurer.
But thanks from you to me, as jewels hung
Upon a beggar's neck, would set my rags
Unkindly in the sun.

Her. Then I am not
Your debtor?

Meg. Mine the debt, that mounts too fast
For feeble payment from thin purse of words.
Ah, every moment adds a suitor hope
To th' bankrupts in my heart.

Her. I fear, my lord,
Your coiner's name is Fancy, and I like
Truth's mintage best. [To her father]
What is this debt of mine,
So languished that a word of thanks may be
Its slender cover?

Meg. A word, if beauty speak it,
May mantle a bare world.

Hud. His Excellency
Is Governor of Peonia——

Her. In Goldusan!

Hud. And smoothed my road there——

Meg. Nay, your majesty,
My aid was but a garnish on the might
That moves with your own name.

Hud. Between us then,
We saved my holdings through a bluster there.
And what they brought me I've tossed here to make
This smile on winter.

Meg. What? You gave her all?

Her. How, sir? One word of mine would robe a world.
And my whole self not worth a little spot
Twitched from Spring's garment?

Meg. Oh, I'd grind the stars
To imperial dust that you might trample them,—
But this—this was a fortune!
[To Hudibrand] Sir, 'tis true
You care not for the gold.

Hud. I care for it
As men of hero times held dear the sword
That made them lords of battle.

Her. You are lord
Of Peace!

Meg. Write that upon the clouds, that eyes
Of men and angels may contending claim
The truth for earth and heaven!

Hud. Tush, sir, tush!

Meg. Can I forget how at your kingly touch
My fair Peonia, paling in treason's grip,
Thrilled from her deathward droop, renewed her heart
Through safe, ease-lidded nights, and woke once more
The rose of fortune?

Hud. There's no rumble now
Of riot?

Meg. Not a sound comes to our ears
But from the toiling strokes that steadily
Uproll Peonia's wealth.

Hud. Yet those who led
The last revolt are free.

Meg. Not all, your Highness.
A few crossed to Assaria, but expedition
Warms on their trail. Rejan LeVal is tracked
To your own capital.

Hud. Nay, mend that, sir.
We're safe here from such ruck.

Meg. The startled eel
Will make for muddy waters,—and 'tis sure
LeVal found murky welcome here.

Hud. My city!
What mutinous bolt turns here for him?

Meg. His friends
Are friends of power. How else could he elude
The thousand eyes in search?

Hud. [Musing] Treason at court?...

Meg. We'll mouse LeVal to 's cranny, do not doubt.
Then we shall ask Assaria's great seal
For his delivery to Goldusan.

Hud. That is assured you.

Meg. But your minister,
Sir Borduc, warns——

Hud. Ha! Warns?

Meg. He urges that
The extraditing power is at pause,
Blocked by the people's will.

Hud. I've given my word,—
A word that mobbish din ne'er added to,
Nor yet stripped of one letter that I chose
Should spell authority. You ask for more?

Meg. Pardon, your majesty! It is enough,
Beyond all stretch of need.

Hud. I call to mind
That Borduc waits,—and primed for tongue-work too.
The princess will content your Excellency?

Meg. [With obeisance to Hernda] 'Tis Heaven's honor! I have left the earth!

Hud. You waste your art. She's in the milk-maid humor.
Would marry Hob. [Exit, lower right]

Meg. The Señor Hob? He says
You'll marry him? [Hernda laughs]
You care not if I die!

Her. You'll live, my lord.

Meg. You'll marry Hob. I die!

Her. He is not Hob. That is my father's mock
Because he's poor.

Meg. [In hope] Ah, poor?

Her. A beggarly
Ten millions,—not a penny more.

Meg. Ten millions!

Her. But that's my joy. I would not wed for gold.

Meg. O, pity me! I love you, señorita!

Her. No, no! I must not hear that.

Meg. Then I'll pray
Silence to be my friend and speak my dumb
Unuttered heart.

Her. You must not love me, sir.
But you may love—my father. When you praised him,
You too seemed fair to me.

Meg. I'll sing him till
The stars lie at our feet, if you will listen!

Her. He gave your country peace?

Meg. His royal name
Is dear as Cordiaz' in the grateful heart
Of Goldusan. That proud land lay unkept.
Her ores intombed, her vales without a plough,
Her rivers wasting down to shipless seas,
Her people starving, while her nobles strove
For shreds of power,—the clouted thing we called
A government. Then on our factions fell,
Strong as a god's, the hand of Hudibrand;
And now, compact, we stand by Cordiaz,
While every mountain groans with golden birth.
And every river turns its thousand wheels,
And every valley buried is in bloom.

Her. My dearest father! But I knew 'twas so!
And they who starved are fed and happy now?
They reap the bloom and share the golden flood?

Meg. All will be well when once we've scourged the land
Of rebels that drip poison from their tongues,
Stirring the meek and unambitious poor,—
Who sought no life but saintly, noble toil,—
With strangest rage, till maddened they would bite
The fostering hand of God.

Her. We've prisons where
We put such troublers. Has your land no jails?

Meg.'Tis full of them! I mean—ah, we have jails,
But foes like these are wary, slip all watch,—
Flee and dart back, our weariness their charter
To tread with havoc's hoof. If I could find
Rejan LeVal, then might I rest from guard,
But not while he—unlassoed warrigal!—
May canter from his thicket and paw up
Peonia's fields!

Her. I'll lend an adjutant.
Ask Chartrien, who knows each foggy nook
And smirchèd corner of the capital,—
Having once made his pastime serve a quest
For such drab knowledge,—ask him help you find
This traitor.

Meg. Chartrien! Nay, the fox is safe
When th' hound too wears a brush.

Her. You mean the prince?
Speak, sir! Who hints me calumny,
Shall make the drum his chorus. I'll hear all.

Meg. A rumor drifts through Goldusan....

Her. Is that
An oddity? Here rumors are too thick
For ears to gather them.

Meg. But this—O, princess....
Fairest of earth, forgive me that I speak!

Her. You do not speak. And that I'll not forgive.

Meg. Ah, then,—but first,—is Chartrien near the king?

Her. No nearer than his heart.

Meg. I do offend.

Her. Offence now lies in silence. Speak, my lord.

Meg. When I left Goldusan, 'twas said—and with
No muffled hesitance—Prince Chartrien aids
The rebels there, and lays a train to rend
The State apart, that Cordiaz may drop
Into the gap,—then he with plausive cleat
Will make the fissure stanch, and seat himself
In unoppugnèd power.

Her. Why he is Hob! [Silence. They both rise]
A mad and sorry tale, you see.

Meg. I see.
He's in the capital?

Her. Beneath this roof.
The palace is his home. My father holds
His meagre millions guarded, nursing them
To a prince's portion.

Meg. We shall meet?

Her. To-night.
He's with a friend—a Spanish gentleman,—
But not from Goldusan.

Meg. I made no guess.

Her. Deny that with your eyes. Your tongue's exempt.

Meg. And may I meet the Spanish gentleman?

Her. That's as he chooses. I may not command him.

[Re-enter Count Dorkinski]

Dor. His Highness, sir, is pleased to bid you join him.

Meg. His pleasure is his marshal. [To Hernda, softly] I've your leave
To love your father. That I go from you
To him, is Heaven's proof I do.

[Exit Megario and the Count]

Her.The proof
I seek, and would not find, is locked in Hell,
Not Heaven. Megario lied. Oh, Chartrien!

[Retreats slowly into grove and pauses out of sight, rear. Enter, upper left, Chartrien and LeVal]

LeV. No,——

Cha. Prudence, dear LeVal!

LeV. I shall go mad
Shut in this gilded den,—this stifling hold
Of banditry.

Cha. Peace, friend!

LeV. I'd rather crouch
With brats of grime upon an unswept hearth
And claw my bread from cinders, than draw breath
In this gold-raftered house of blood!

Cha. Come, come!
Your wits fly naked, stripped of every caution,
And beat suspicion up that else might keep
Untroubled bed. Whist! We must move rose-shod
Through these next hours, not clack in passion's clogs.

LeV. I'll out of this! There's surge in me no fear
Can put in bonds.

Cha. Nay, here and here alone
Your life is safe. The hounds of Goldusan
Sniff through the cellars. They'll not scent you in
The royal shadow. That's more brilliancy
Than ever lit a rush in houndom. This
My home, I share with you, for mine it is
Till I've secured my gold from Hudibrand.

LeV. Ay, but Megario! While he's here these walls
Pen me in fire.

Cha. His visit is too brief
To be a danger.

LeV. Danger! To me, or him?
If we should meet, his fate as mine would be
In that encounter. These are hands would see to 't!

Cha. LeVal, forget——

LeV. Forget Céleste? My wife?
Forget she died of blows while he stood by
And smiled, because she was my wife!
Oh, God! Breathe air with him while this arm hangs
A limp discretion!

Cha. Peace! This mood unpent
Will wreck us. Keep your room if it must swell.
The princess gazes yonder, and your face
Is badged exposal. Go. I'll meet her question.
'Twill not fash honor if a lie or two
Must be our guard.

[Exit LeVal upper left. Hernda emerges from grove. Chartrien waits for her as she comes circuitously, lightly hovering and hesitating]

Her. [At his side] What lover's this?—dreams still
When love is by. Were he an olden knight
He'd ride to tourney and forget his spurs!

Cha. He would forget the world and fame and God
To see your eyes like this!

Her. You tremble, Chartrien.
Love so much?—yet stood here just—a stump—

Cha. That felt you coming, coming like a bird,
And watched and waited, envying every bough
Where you paused doubting, till you fluttering lit,
Down in the old stump's heart—

Her. There, I've forgot!
This is my lover ere that lure crept up
From Goldusan. Since you came back, I've felt
The shadow of a difference, and I've heard
The maids of Goldusan can draw men's souls
Out of their bodies for a dance in hell.

Cha. My love!

Her. O, Chartrien, are you mine? I feel
A question in your worship. When your eyes
Are warmest, love lies on them like
The shallow moon-gleam on a deep, dark sea
That is not kin with it. A sea that once
Was mine, and I could go, with circling arms,
Love-lanterned to its depth. But now the dark
Is round me fathomless——

Cha. My own!

Her. I try to rise,
To find my wings—and feel the air again
Without your drowning touch upon me——

Cha. Hernda!
Have I so nearly lost you? Come, beloved,
Sit here, and let me vow me yours again
Till in each word you feel my beating heart.

Her. My stars shall hear these vows.

[Changes the light to pale, evening glow. Rear, right, are glimpses of sky with frail, moving clouds, faint stars and a new moon]

And see, my moon.
Intent and virginal.

[She sits, and Chartrien lies on the ground, his breast covering her feet]

Now, now my heart
Holds not another thing but love and you!

Cha. No thought of those dread wings?

Her. None, none! And you?
[Bends over him]
All mine. I hold you now, fast in my world.
Sometimes you enter, come within my door.
And then I can not shut it for a wind
That clings about you from a farther sky.

Cha. [Rises and takes her face between his hands]
There's but one sky!

Her. A shuddering breath,
As from a planet strange, where you have walked
And I shall never go.

Cha. O, shut me in,
Rose of a heart! I'll not go out though Life
Beat at the door, and call her giant storms
To knock upon 't.

Her. Is this not life? And this
The only world?

Cha. The only world. My habitat
One perfect hour.

Her. One hour? Forever, love.

Cha. O, vow it for me, sweet,—again, again!
Till I believe once more in Arcadies
Born of a silken purse. In sunsets caught
In tinted tapestries, with jacinth heart
Gold-bleeding through the woven breath of dream.
In soft moon-hours that drop from painted skies,
In fairy woodlands aye unwintering,
In love's elf-ring no boding star may cross,
And you, my Hernda, sceptred in joy's name,
Tossing the apple planets in your hands—
These little, sovereign hands—as God might do,
Had he, poor God, your power.

Her. Love, you hurt.

Cha. Ah, tears in Arcady?

Her. Oh, what is this
Has come between us?

Cha. What? The universe.
I can not reach you even when my lips
Are on your heart.

Her. May I not come to you?

Cha. From this moon-world? No hope of that.

Her. See then,
The day! [Changes the light to sunrise]
Now may I come?

Cha. Forever playing!
The way lies here.

[Steps to window and opens it. A snowy blast rushes in]

Her. Stop, Chartrien! Shut it! Oh,
You've killed my Spring!

Cha. You will not come?

Her. You're mad.

[Struggles with the window until she closes it, Chartrien watching her]

Cha. You do not like that road. But it is mine.
And children walk it. I have met them there.

Her. Oh, I am frozen! See!

Cha. [With sudden contrition, pressing her to his breast]
No, you are fire.
A fire that I will clasp, though it should burn
My holiest temple and betray my soul
To ashes!

Her. O, my love, what secret curbs
Your nature to this chafe? It rubs even through
Your ardor.—stabs me on your breast.
May I not know it? Is not confidence
Dear blood and life of love? Without it, ours
Must pale, ghost-cold, a chill between locked arms.

Cha. Is trust not love's prerogative
More royal sweet than any burdened share
Of secrecy?

Her. Not to the strong!

Cha. [Smiling] You strong?
By what brave test dost know it?

Her. And by what
Dost know me weak?

Cha. The proof awaits. But now,—
Emilio needs me,—

Her. Go!

Cha. Sweet, friendship too
Has bonds. Not all are love's.

Her. He's ill,—your friend?

Cha. As plague-bit life,—no worse.

Her. You'll wait upon
My father? Bid him but good-night?

Cha. No, Hernda.

Her. You shun him, Chartrien. I have watched you keep
A curious distance,—ay, as though your heart
Removed itself while your unwarmèd eyes
Made invoice of its treasure. Once you rushed
Unto his counsel as security
Hived in his word, and you, denied, were lost.
Are those hours gone? If you have grown too large
For his shrunk wisdom, bind you to his need.
Age unsuspected crowns him, and you take
Your young arm out of his.

Cha. He wants no staff.

Her. You'll go no more to Goldusan?

Cha. I must.

Her. And soon?

Cha. When Hudibrand is pleased to free
My fortune from his ward.

Her. You want it all?

Cha. Yes, all.

Her. For Goldusan?

Cha. My greatest need
Is there.

Her. What is that need?

Cha. You question me?

Her. May love not ask?

Cha. If love could understand.

Her. Have I grown dull? I do not know you, Chartrien.
You're so unfeatured by that Spanish cloud,
You're lowering friend. He is the universe
Between our hearts. Ill? No. I saw him here,—
A tropic threat. 'Twas rage broke his suave guard,
Not illness.

Cha. Hernda!

Her. The Lord Megario
Has asked to compliment a brother guest.
May he be seen? Does his unmannered storm
Spare one amenity?

Cha. Megario knows?

Her. Knows what?

Cha. Oh!—nothing.

Her. So much more than naught
Your cheek is pale with it.

Cha. No matter, Hernda.

Her. An ashen matter truly, yet not light
As nothing. But your answer. May our guests
Exchange the roof-tree greeting?

Cha. No.

Her. Why not?
That "no" trails consequence. It can not be
Your period.

Cha. They are enemies.

Her. I knew!

Cha. Megario dealt my friend a bitter wrong,—
The foulest wrong that man may put on man.

Her. He's loyal to my father. I know that
Of him,—and of Emilio—nothing.

Cha. Sweet,
I beg one day!

Her. One day? What's hatching here
That's one day short its time?

[Enter, lower right, Hudibrand, Megario, and Borduc]

Cha. [Drawing Hernda aside] To-morrow, love!

Her. To-night!

Hud. You've won your suit, Megario.
If by our presence in your Goldusan
We can advance that sister country's peace.
The journey's naught. We'll count it done.

Meg. My lord,
All revolution will dispel as air
Before your eye. Our Cordiaz is great,
But his familiar subjects are too near
To take his height, while you they know to be
Of giant measure; and when once they see
Your majesties are brothered, Cordiaz
Will grow your twin in stature.

Hud. You've our word.

Meg. I treasure it,—and lest repeated thanks
Stale their sincerity. I beg to say
Good-night.

Hud. You have our leave. Good-night, my lord.

[Megario bows impressively to Hudibrand, slightly to Borduc, and is passing out when Hernda, who has crossed right, intercepts him]

Her. You leave us early, Lord Megario.

Meg. I do not leave, your Highness. I am driven.
I go to drudgery with my secretaries,
Foregoing even the sleep that might have brought
Your dreamèd face to me.

Her. Is 't still your wish
To meet our Spanish guest?

Meg. He grants me that?

Her. He has refused a meeting.

Meg. Ah!... Refused.

Her. But there's a way, my lord. When you have passed
The second door without, turn to the left.
You'll find a vaulted passage,—at the end
An entrance to my wood. Come in, and wait.

Meg. You grace me so?

Her. It is not grace that breaks
The covenant of salt. But who keeps faith
With traitors? He is one, by every sign.
An evil thing blown to our royal hearth
Through Chartrien's open love that lets all winds
Pour in. And I'll have proof of it!

Meg. [Over her hand] You shall. [Exit, lower right]

Cha. [Crossing to Hernda] A long-spun courtesy, and with one merit,—
It ended in good-night.

Her. [Gayly] Unruly yet?
A truce until to-morrow!

Cha. You believe me?

Her. I would not doubt you for a world compact
Of virtues only, but it's no unreason
To fear you are deceived.

Cha. Dear Hernda——

Her. Come!
I love you, Chartrien. Let us have an hour
As light as joy, as sweet as peace, and call
Your friend to share it. He shall smile for me.
I vow it, by his most ungentle frown!

Cha. 'Twill take your deepest magic, for his heart
Holds naught that smiles are made of.

Her. Bring him here.
I'll make that heart my wizard bowl and mix
Such sweet and merry potions in 't, his griefs
Must doff their gray for motley. You shall see!

Cha. Art such a witch? [Exit, upper left]

Her. What's this I do? My soul
Leans shameward, but I'll trounce it up. The man,
If innocent, keeps so, untouched and clear.
If he aims darkly, creeps a weaponed hate
Upon my noble father, do I worse
Than cancel so the unwrought half of 's crime,
And make him less a villain?

Bor. May I speak
Against this southward jaunt?

Hud. Loud as you please,
My Bordy, but I go.

Bor. Your Highness makes
Assaria bow too low.

Hud. The State shall have
No name in this. I go as Cordiaz' friend,
Not as Assaria's king. I've interests there
That sort with quiet venture. Give it out
This move in part concerns my health.

Bor. That much
I welcome. You should rest, my lord.

Hud. Ha? Rest?
The twin of death! I'll rest when I am dust.
Nay, then I hope that storm and hurricane
Will keep me whirling. No,—I'll not go lame
Even in report. Say that this move concerns
My pleasure solely,—solely, Borduc.

Her. Father,
I have a suit. May I not go with you?
I long to make that land where you are loved,
More vivid than the dream that now it is.

Hud. And find what lodestar there draws Chartrien
From constancy? Well, you shall go.

Bor. Tut, tut!

Her. Dear father!

Hud. This will give domestic screen
And color to our tack.

Bor. A gadding throne—

Hud. Good Borduc, we will leave the throne at home.
Do not you stay?

Bor. I've some authority,
You'll not dispute, my lord. Much as may go
With broad election. My investiture
Lies in the people's choice.

Hud. Ay, you're their bark
Of freedom, where their pride may hoist full sail,
But who wots better, Bordy, that 'tis puffed
With winds that know my port?

Bor. They think their choice
Is free. Sincere in that, they give my post
A dignity not even your majesty
May mock me out of.

Hud. Fools are noted most
For their sincerity,—a virtue that
Must stand a cipher if uncertified
By wit or wisdom.

Bor. Sir, Assarians
Are not the fools you think them. They are men
Who have the patriot's heart, and on their flag
Where you write "power" their love reads "liberty."

Hud. It does, praise be! And they may keep their flag
To wear around their eyes long as they will.
For then I dance my measure, while they bump
In hither-whither hoodman blind and pay
My fiddler too!

Bor. And what's my part in this?

Hud. The fiddler's, Borduc.

Bor. Sir?

Hud. And your next tune
Is Goldusan. Come, let's rehearse.

Bor. My lord,——

[Exeunt, lower right, as Chartrien and LeVal enter left]

Her. You've come, dear Señor! Was it savagery
To wrest the hour from you?

LeV. Too kindly done
For such a name,—though I was deep in bond
To sober thoughts, your Highness.

Her. Be so still.
We would not force our humor on your heart,
But share your own.

LeV. [Smiling] Can you be sad?

Her. As rains
That drench October. As the gray
That fringes twilight on the dark of moons.
As seas that sob above a swallowed ship,
Repenting storm. [Leads to seat, right]
Come, sir,—and I'll be sad
In what degree you choose, though I could wish it
Nearer a smile than rheum, and not so heavy
But that its sigh may float upon a song,
A gentle song that might be sorrow's garland
When moan wears down. Wilt hear one now, my lord?
I have a music-maker yon whose lute
Was nectared in a poet's tears the hour
He lost his dream. Say you will hear him! Nay,
That courtier "yes" can not o'ertake the "no"
Sped from your eyes. We'll have no music. Yet
The soul must love it ere one can be sad
To th' very sweet of sadness. O, I know!

LeV. I love it, but not here.

Her. What here forbids?
My bower! The eye translates its tenderness
To fairy sound, nor need of pipe or strings.

LeV. I can not hear the bells of fairydom
When life is making thunder's music 'gainst
This bauble house of play——

Her. [Rising] Sir, you forget——

LeV. Nay, I remember!

Her. What do you remember?

LeV. Ah!... Pardon, princess!

Cha. May I mend this peace?

Her. [Sitting again by LeVal] It is not broken yet.

LeV. Your gentleness
Has saved it, not my manners.

Her. Oh, my lord,
Would I had grace to cover sorrow's breach
As smoothly as a gap in courtesy!
Then you should smile!

LeV. I have a happiness
That makes it thievery in me to take
Your pity. You've a sadder need.

Her. I'll yield
No jocund vantage to that brow of yours.
You hear this sombre braggart, Chartrien?
Speaks as I were Despair's own fosterling!

LeV. You are. As I am Hope's. Do you not gaze
On earth's foul spots and cry "A sad world this!"
"We must endure!" "The dear God wills it so!"
And such and such like seed of misery
Till hopelessness sprouts chronic?—building then
Your house of life amid its smelling weeds,
Where you may dance—or pray—till you forget
Your creed keeps earth in tears?

Her. And yours, my lord?

LeV. Gives her a singing and forefeeling heart
Whose courage cleaves renunciation's cloud
That swathes her splendor and would sighing keep
Her livid 'mong the stars!

Her. You would divide
Omnipotence with God, and arrogant,
Assume the bigger half. But there are woes
That even your hope, though it go winged and armored,
Must fall before.

LeV. Not one that I'll not face
Until its features mould me destiny.
The shape of radiance it shall wear for man
'Neath an unslandered Heaven! I could not live
If in the life about me I saw not
The world within this world, and sped my hope
The way that it shall take.

Her. Is not that way
Called Peace, Emilio?

LeV. Not the peace that spills
More blood than war, builds bigger jails, and leaves
More waifs to suck the stunting, poisonous breast
Of Charity! Peace as white ashes spread
Upon injustice' fly-blown wrack——

Her. [Leaving him] You are
A revolutionist!

LeV. And black to you,
For revolution leads into the horizon,
And must be figured dark to rearward eyes
Though God beyond gives welcome.

Her. [Coming gently back] May we not
Be patient even as Christ, who found this world
The home of poverty and left it so?
Did he not say the poor are ever with us?

LeV. You too must tap that last and golden nail
In th' pauper's coffin!

Her. It is the nail of truth,
If Christ spoke true.

LeV. Words uttered to his day,
Not to all time. Not as a deathless brand
Burning his own millennium. Not meant
To take from man his goal, condemning him
To hug an ulcer to the sick world's end,
Which even your bosom must take to whitest bed
Although your festrous partner be not guessed
Nor visible. But if he did mean that——
That vicious thing—then he is false as hell,
Denying man's bright destiny,—and I,
Who vouch the triumph of an angel race,
Am more a god than he!

Her. You dare blaspheme——

LeV. Because it once was said to men, whom worms
Made dust of twice ten hundred years ago,
"The poor are always with you," such as you
Shall not forever pick your way to ease
O'er broken bodies, lifting up white brows
And hiding crimson feet! Daring to make
The Christ your sheltering sanction while you feed
On others' lives, and keep injustice sleek
Even as you cosset that dim thing, your soul,
And preen the wings you think bear you aloft
The puddled world!

Her. You lie! You do not know
Our gentle hearts, our——

LeV. Gentle? O, you're nice,
You later cannibals, and will not eat
Of babes at table, but you'll pipe their blood
From unoffending distance, while you pray
Your conscience numb and swear the source is clean.
Some dare to name that fount the Love of God,
And kneel him thanks!

Her. Oh, mad and impious!
Who is this, Chartrien, you've dared call your friend?

[Megario steps from the grove]

Meg. He's dumb as prudence, but my tongue is free.
This is Rejan LeVal, the man who hates
Your father,—and my country's enemy.

LeV. [Plunging toward Megario] Murderer!

Cha. [Grasping LeVal] Come! At once!

Meg. Your pardon, prince.
I must delay you. I feared your sympathy
Would gird itself 'gainst justice, and took care
To balk escape. [To officer who appears behind him]
Be off with him. You know
Your road. No stop this side Peonia's border.

Cha. Outlawry this! Stop, sir! You will not dare
Kidnap him on this soil!

Meg. [Laughs] Where Hudibrand
Is king?

[Exit officer with LeVal, lower right]

Her. This strains your privilege, my lord.

Cha. His privilege? My God! Did you....

Her. I did.

Meg. No third voice here is cordant. I will leave you.
My thousand times most gracious lady, thanks!
Again I bid you happiest good-night! [Exit]

Her. I am no adder, though your bitter eyes
Give me that name.

Cha. Not bitter. In my heart,
That wrapped you as the South its dearest bud,
There's nothing left to warm the thought of you
Even with my hate. You are the crown, the peak,
The unmeaning top of all to which I'm most
Indifferent. [Turns away]

Her. Look at me!

Cha. I look, and know
My eyes till now were cankered, look and see
The whole fair lie you are.

Her. Nay, Chartrien!

Cha. The book is open. There the brow yet shines
As God o'erlilied it,—an altar urn
Stuffed with profane decay. Those are the eyes
Like springs within a wood where no road leads
With murking pilgrim dust, yet Innocence
There paused looks up no more. That is the hand
That as a comrade angel's took my friend's,—
Reached out as though it parted Heaven's veil
To draw his grief within, then clapped him down
To Hell.

Her. The place for traitors. Let him go.
This moment is for us. 'Tis true your eyes
Were cankered, and I thought by surgeon means
To give them health, but deeper than the eyes
This trouble's seat. Deep as your changèd soul,
That forfeits its divinity to link
With an infection. Here you stood and heard
Those poured-out profanations with no move
Or sound of protest. That was left for me.

Cha. What truth may pierce such ignorance, fatuous, thick!
That man,—Megario,—with whom you've struck
Alliant palm, twisted a lawless law
To his deformed desire, and took the lands—
The priceless valley lands of Cana Ru—
From gentle dwellers there, whose titles bore
The rooted claim of dear ancestral graves
Nine generations deep,—and when they stood
The guardians of their doors, faced them with guns,
Dragged them to his bribed courts, weighed them with fines,
And sent them to his burning maguey fields
To slave and rot.

Her. No—don't——

Cha. The lands were sold
To Hudibrand——

Her. It can not be!

Cha. Not be?
That cry is stale as ignorance, as old
As wrong. I've heard it till my ears refuse
To register its emptiness. LeVal,
It was, rose first against Megario,—
Stood up and urged men to be Man,—and this,
That makes archangels in the ranks of Heaven,
Was treason upon earth. He lived—escaped—
But not his wife. Anointed woman, such
As centuries with conjoined virtues breed
Once and no more! She was condemned, enslaved,
And toiling in the steaming fields, fell down,
Was flogged, and died.

Her. No! no! no! no!

Cha. So she
Is free. But now LeVal goes back. My friend!
O, giant heart! I see you stagger, drop,
As feverous as the smitten earth——

Her. Who could
Believe such things? You're wrong! You must—you shall
Be wrong! He was a traitor, bitter-souled.
Undoing my father's work!

Cha. Farewell!

Her. Oh, Chartrien,
I did it for the best!

Cha. The woman's cry.
She'd wreck a world, and from that earthquake piled
Look up to say she did it for the best.

Her. You will not go? You loved me one hour past.
I am not changed. I'm Hernda still.

Cha. The same.
And yet I loved you. But no blush need burn
The soul escaped enchantment. 'Twas a charm
Enringed me with its bale till helpless there,
And feeble as a babe in bassinet,
I cooed away my manhood,—emptied time
With infant fingering toward your protean hair!

Her. You loved me!

Cha. More than ever could be laid
To madness' charge, or god that passion whelms
With mortal longing till his skies become
His prison, and dark earth Elysian ground
Beneath the feet he loves!

Her. [With arms beseeching] Here, Chartrien, here!

Cha. Even when my eyes—so late—were wide to wrong
That binds the race to pain's dread Caucasus,
My mad imagination laid the gift
Of seership on you, dreamed that you would go
To meet the gleam of the delivering days,——

Her. With you!

Cha. Sail any sea of venture, beat
Through any storm to make the prophet's port,—
White priestess vassal to the truth that leads
The planet into light!

Her. Together, Chartrien!

Cha. That was my dream. Then coming to your side.
There was no life but yours,—no world that bled
And felt the vulture feeding. Groans of men
Grew still, or like the unavailing hum
Of far-off, aimless bees, scarce reached my ears
That heard, more near, as music from new earth,
Your children call me father. Ay, 'twas but
The storming undersea of passioning sex
That breaking to the sky o'erlaid my stars
And wore the mask of Heaven! That ebbless power,
That spawning tide of Nature, by whose might
She took primordial forts and made Life hers!
Still does it tear belated, unassuaged,
In wreck about the Mind's aspiring fanes.
And shakes the nesting Spirit from her towers,
Her heavenly brood unfledged!

Her. Oh! Oh!

Cha. Here—now—
I beat it back, and go my way unmated
Till beauty fair as yours has bred a soul
And signals me! [Exit]

Her. Stay, Chartrien! Oh, my love!

[Falls. Curtain]

ACT II

Scene: A grove in the outskirts of a town in Goldusan. Semi-tropical verdure. Rocks, shrubbery, trees, at convenience. A hidden cascade mumbles upper right, not loud enough to disturb conversation. At upper left, the pillared and vine-wreathed entrance to a mansion. A wall, rear, partly hidden by foliage. Paths lead off, right and left, lower, under trees. It is evening, and the grove is lit for revel. Gay flocks of people pass, then Hernda and Megario enter lower right.

Meg. Unsoft as winter! Thou hast brought thy north,
With thee, a frigid shade, here where the hours
Are poppy-fingered, and their dreaming breasts
Unshuttered as the summer!

Her. Is it true,
This joy, that smiles as though its fountained heart
Could not be emptied?

Meg. True as that I love you.

Her. But if it is no mask, why should revolt
O'ercloud your borders?

Meg. There's no just revolt.

Her. But Chartrien said——

Meg. Are you yet poison-tinct
With that old rebel tale his credulous heart
Dressed new in his while honor till both grew
One sooty treason?

Her. Where is Chartrien now?

Meg. Wherever he may hatch a discontent
And cluck us trouble. But of late he spurs
His heart of venture, and dartles to our towns
To stir the scum there.

Her. Scum? You've such a thing
In Cordiaz' happy land? I'll see that scum.
It breathes, does 't not? Has eyes, and tongue?
Can answer if one speaks?

Meg. You're merry, princess.

Her. As graves at night. All is not open here.
I shall go farther,—knock at doors where Truth
Keeps honest house, not gowned for holiday.

Meg. One want we have,—that you will stay with us
And be the fairy soul of Goldusan.
Then must our land, so measureless endeared,
Be cherished as the darling care of Heaven,
Where storm may breathe but as a twittering bird
That fears to shake its nest.

Her. You've only words!
Words like these thousand-thousand smiles that seem
Half real and half painted,—teasing, strange,—
All feeding one illusion round my way
Till even the ground unqualifies beneath me
And makes each step a question.

Meg. 'Tis the doubt
You look through that transforms our face
Of truth and paints us vaguely hued.
O, for our many smiles, wilt not give one?

Her. Nay, there's a darkness fringing on this grove.
It creeps above the walls, it touches me,
And makes me shudder winding at my feet!

Meg. You've sipped of fancy at a witch's knee! [Plucks a flower]
But see,—your serpent shadows nurture this.
Confess to its perfection, and be shriven
Of any thought less fair.

Her. Oh, if I might!
No, keep it. Let us find our friends.

Meg. [Drops the flower] My hand
Defiles it for you.

Her. Nay——

Meg. Where is the fan
I carried yester-night?

Her. 'Tis—lost.

Meg. 'Tis burnt!

Her. What wind's your gossip?

Meg. Truth paused at my ear.
But, princess, if there's any charm will draw
Your eyes to me unburdened of their hate,
I'll find it though it lie beneath the ruin
Of every other hope!

Her. I'll leave you, sir.

Meg. Forgive me! Love will speak,—ay, storm its need.
Though each vain word pile up the barricade
That fends the heart desired.

Her. My lord, no hate
Is in that barrier. I'm free of that.

Meg. Thanks for that little much. Your highness speaks
Of journeying. What can I say to gild
My own Peonia till it distant gleams
The gem of pilgrimage? There you will see
How earth is dressed when the devoted sun
Is pledged to her adorning. Trees that mass
Their bloom in forest heavens, giving her
A nearer sky. Unthwarted vines that scarf
Her mountain shoulders with their pendent clouds.
Lakes where a dreamer's bark may drift unoared
And chance no port save beauty. Everywhere
The dart and wave of color that would beckon
A neighbor planet looking once this way.
Come, be my guest. One day! I'll ask no more.

Her. I do not know. Señora Ziralay
Will be my guide. I go with her.

Meg. With her?

Her. What is 't? I touch the shadow. You are not
Her friend?

Meg. She hates in secret, while her smile
Levies the world for love.

Her. I'll hate where she does,
And know my soul is safe.

Meg. Her husband holds
By love and purse to Cordiaz, but she
Is a LeVal.

Her. LeVal? And kin to—him?

Meg. Rejan? His sister. And I know her nature
Is tinted as her blood, whatever hue
It wears at court.

Her. A sister to the man
That I gave up to death. And I have dared
To love her—take her kiss——

Meg. [Cautioning] She's here.

[Enter, lower right, Señora Ziralay and Guildamour]

Her. Señora!
We spoke of you.

Señ. And with such gloom?

Meg. No, no!

Señ. It lingers yet, my lord. Do I in absence cast
Such knitted shadows?

Meg. Safely asked of us,
Who know your bright philosophy. How fares
That magic broom with which you'd sweep the earth
Of every ill? Is 't still invincible?

Señ. Much worn of late, my lord, as you should know,
Who give it work.

Meg. You'd leave us not one grief
To keep us praying and rebuilding Heaven?
Abolish Death perhaps?

Señ. True mock! I would
Except the death that's like a waiting bed
When not another turn may mend the day;
When sleep is sweeter than the thumbèd book,
And hearth-near voices drowse like waves that lap
Shores unconcerned. Now we are murdered, all.

Meg. No, no. Señora!

Gui. Ay! Do we not vaunt,
And set it rarely down, a thing to note,
If age unmoor the life-disusèd raft,
For th' chartless cruise?

Señ. Now we go hurried out,
With half our dreams unpacked, and earth made poor
With a few grains of dust where should have risen
Our wisest years in flower.

Meg. Fate, fate, Señora!

Señ. What's fate but ignorance? And not always that
Comes hobbling with excuse. Sometimes a man,
Whose eyes fling lances at the foes of Life,
Is knouted from the world——

Meg. No more, I pray!
This is a festal night. Reserve your sermon
For our next fast.

[A musical group plays softly under trees left. Enter lower right, Hudibrand, Cordiaz, Rubirez, Vardas, Ziralay and others]

Hud. Here, daughter? You've been sought.

Cor. The search was mine, your highness. I would beg
A grace of you.

Her. You grant one as you beg,
Your majesty. I'll not do less than give
Your own again. But pray you name it, sir.

Cor. This garden where our amity has borne
Its fairest blossom shall be called henceforth
The Grove of Peace, and we would beg your highness
To queen our christening.

Her. A queenly part,
And royally I thank you, but I'll play it
With humblest prayer that Heaven may keep unbroken
These new-sworn bonds between my land and yours.

Cor. So pray we all.

Her. Is this our scene?

Cor. Not here.
Come you this way, my friends. We'll cast the wine
To yon cascade, and let the waters bear it
Down to my capital.

[All go off upper right, except two officers, who remain centre, and a guard who walks to and fro by wall rear, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden by the wood and rocks]

First Off. This peace will prove
As stout as any spider's thread that swings
In a blowing rain. Fah!

Second Off. Climb what hill you please,
You see the rebels' smoke.

First Off. But where in name
Of magic does Bolderez get his gold?
The rebels we pick up have lost no meals.

Second Off. Enough he gets it. Goldusan sleeps well.
Bolderez is so near that if his men
Were eagles they could pick out Cordiaz' eyes
And he'd not wake to miss 'em.

First Off. Cordiaz
Is not asleep, but so bedimmed and fooled
By a thievish Cabinet that what he sees
Takes any name they give it.

Second Off. He is old.

First Off. Ah, there you hit it. Warriors should die young.
When age unsoldiers them their field-worn hearts
Have no defence against a crafty peace,
And falling power will seize on any prop
Be 't foul or fair, to keep on legs.

Second Off. My faith!
His crutches are so villanous, a fall
Were better than his gait.

[Enter Ziralay, lower right]

First Off. Well, Ziralay,
What news?

Zir. Where's Cordiaz?

Second Off. He comes.

[Re-enter group from the cascade]

Zir. [To Cordiaz] My lord,
The Assarian prince is captured, and is held
Within the town.

Cor. What? Chartrien?

Zir. Yes, my lord.

Cor. Fit period to this dedicated day!
Our gentle bonds are now forged whole. The man
Who was Bolderez' hope, most luminous
Of all who drew rebellion to him, now
Is darkly fallen.

Rub. This golden aid cut off,
Bolderez stands so bare his nakedness
Will sprint to nearest cover.

Cor. I'll see his face.
Bring here the prisoner.

Off. I'll speed the order,
Your majesty. [Exit]

Rub. Shall he be shot, my lord?

Cor. Shot? No. But kept close prisoned.

Rub. That is mercy
You have denied the blood of Goldusan.
Why grant it to Assaria?

Var. In him swells
A strength was never in LeVal. I urge
His instant death.

Cor. No, friends. He is a son
Of our great neighbor, and his death would wound
The courtesy of nations that is kept
By lenience unabraded.

Var. Breath so bold
Will from a prison fan the treachery
Whose flame would die without it.

Her. Father, speak!

Cor. We'll hear our friend, Assaria's majesty,
If he have word for us.

Hud. I pray your highness
To let no ghostly and unfounded fear
Of my Assaria——

Cor. Fear, my lord?

Hud. I mean
No more than ask you to be just, nor let
My presence here enforce your chivalry
To do your country wrong. Think of your people,
Not the approval of a gazing land
Whose distant nod is given in ignorance
Of your stern cause.

Her. Here's not my father! So
The clock runs backward, and time ends.

Meg. [To Cordiaz] Your highness,
My voice is not so loud as others here,
But could I send it far as sound may go,
It should take mercy's part in this debate.

Var. You need no trump, my lord. A limpet's whistle
Would tell us where you stand.

Meg. I stand with Cordiaz,
His majesty of Goldusan!

Cor. This matter
Is not for open market. Come, my friends,
Let us go in. Please you to walk before.

[Rubirez, Ziralay, Vardas, and Megario enter the house, upper left. Their majesties linger at entrance. Guildamour retreats on path, upper right. Officers go off, lower left. Hernda and Señora Ziralay wait unnoticed, right]

Cor. Is 't kindly done, my lord, to pose your station
In public against mine?

Hud. My neutral words
You've packed with import all your own. I strive
To bend not right or left, but keep my way
As even as Justice.

Her. [To Señora] Justice! There's a stone
That was my father.

Cor. Yet, my lord, this prince
Is of your house.

Hud. Is it for Cordiaz
To teach me mercy?

Cor. By my soul!

Hud. I know
Whence starts this softness. Mercy has no fane
Where you leave offering.

Cor. I know you too!
By holy Heaven, your head was never bared
In Justice' temple! You now seek my fall,
Because I've turned at last to check the hand
That rifles Goldusan. Is 't not enough
That I've unjewelled all her treasured hills
To alien avarice—that her forests bleed
The priceless sap of all primeval Springs
Into your golden stream? But I must lay
My people under bond,—sell them as slaves
To buy your stolen railways!

Hud. Stolen, sir?
I've paid——

Cor. I know what you have paid! You've sent
Your henchmen creeping in the night, to buy
At beggar's price our toil-built roads, and where
You could not buy, you bribed and thieved, till all
Was yours!

Hud. What of my toil, that built the lines
Through half your provinces?

Cor. You paid yourself!
Took from my governors, half gulls, half thieves
Of your own breed, a hundred times the worth
Of every graded foot, in lands and mines
And water-power that holds the prisoned light
Of robbed futurity! Now we must buy
Once more those tracks, long over-bought,—pay you
A value centuple for every mile,—
Pay you in bonds—bonds in hell's verity—
Whose interest will outrun each reckoned year
The summed returns from our fool's purchase! No!
That is my word while I am Goldusan!

Hud. You wake too late. I'll tell you so, my lord,
Since this imprudent burst thrusts courtesy
From court. Your ministers have given assent——

Cor. Have given! You'll over-steal enough
To quit their boldest price!

Hud. I'll not defend
Your chosen servants, sir.

Cor. My servants! Oh,
What State is free from scuttling greed that bores
For treasure through the stanchest hold?

Hud. This moral chant comes late from you, my lord,
Who've fingered heavily in many a pie
Spiced in the devil's kitchen.

Cor. But to sell
My people! Pay you this devouring price
For stock that hardy yields the groaning third
Of interest on your bonds! What shall we do
To pay it? Rob our treasury, and ask
Our worn-out slaves to fill it up again?
Not ask, but goad and lash,—for you must have
Your own—you honest mortgagees of babes
Unborn——

Hud. Is all the scarlet on our hands?
What of that mountain province, sold entire
To foreign pockets, and the dwellers there
Torn up like shrieking roots and cast abroad
To fasten where they could?

Cor. And where was that
But in your hell-mouthed mines? You wanted slaves
And got them.

Her. I shall die, Señora!

Señ. Listen!

Hud. The tyrant Cordiaz grown pitiful?
Then stones are butter, alabaster is
Uncrumpled down. You should have wept before
The Pueblo strike, then fewer corpses had
Gone out to sea.

Cor. Don't name that thing to me!
Don't speak of it! I will not bear that curse!

Hud. Mine aged convert, lies it in your will,
Or juster Heaven's?

Cor. 'Twas your property
My troops defended—and Rubirez lied.
Swore that the men foamed mad as tuskèd beasts,
And must be trashed to place,—men who had asked
No more than bread when you shut up your doors——

Hud. Not I, my friend.

Cor. Your tool then. One of all
Your million hookèd hands fast in the heart
Of my poor country, shut your doors, thereby
To starve the wretches till they crawled to you
And begged their chains again. But they—their veins
Were not all tapped—they'd blood left, and arose
From their dumb prayers to fight for life—and then....

Hud. You sent the troops.

Cor. Because Rubirez lied!

Hud. Because you knew there'd be no after-sale
For your high favors, once let titles drift
Unguaranteed. And when your work was done—
Your work, my tear-washed saint, why weary patience
Could not take further time to count the dead,
Or dig so many graves. They were piled up
And carted to the sea——

Cor. Oh, every tide
Brings back their faces—staring, staring up!
Will God not answer them? I dare not shut
My eyes....

Hud. And this is why you weep so late?
Come, Cordiaz, you're broken. Leave a throne
Your own fears shake. You know that I must win.
Own you are mastered——

Cor. Mastered! While I've breath
I am a king. If I win peace of God,
And his white angel let my dark soul out,
'Twill be for this—the last throe of my strength
Was spent against you!

Hud. Madly you've uncased
Your madness, and I know my weapons.

Cor. So!
I too, my lord, know how to sleep and wake
With hand on steel.

Hud. Then is there more to say?

Cor. All's said. We're waited for. Assaria,
Will 't please you enter?

Hud. I thank you, Goldusan. [They go in]

Her. Don't comfort me, Señora. Not a breath.
I'll not disfigure shame with comfort's patch,
But droop as low as leprous dust, and take
Some pride in that. 'Tis dark here, dark. Pray God
I am asleep!

Señ. Dear princess!

Her. Men do well
To keep the women blind. If once they knew,
They'd breed no more, but let a bairnless world
Escheat to God. Yet you, Señora, knew,
And you have children. By your motherhood
You've bound you Life's accomplice,—given it heart
And veins and an accepting soul!

Señ. I have!
Deny our hearts these babes, and we deny
The future that we fight for. Ah, defeat
May be endured by those who hold in lap
The victors of to-morrow!

Her. Oh, my father!

Señ. This truth was edged and swift. You should have had
Love's lips to teach you——

Her. I've been taught, my friend,
But would not learn. [Rising] Señora, it was I
Betrayed your brother!

Señ. Yes.... I know.

Her. To death!
You do not understand. I killed him!

Señ. No.
There, love,—forget a little. I've a hope
He is not dead.

Her. Not dead? What gives you hope?

Señ. Perhaps the nameless mentor in the heart
That tells us when our loved shrines are lit
And when they're out forever. But there's more.
Whenever Lord Megario's eye meets mine
There's something couched there speaks me living wrong,
Not wrong that's ended—locked within a grave
No prayer may open. He is burning yet
With uncompleted vengeance—and its shame.

Her. Señora, you've a plan!

Señ. 'Twill take much gold.

Her. Ah, I have that.

Señ. And courage.

Her. Well!

Señ. Such as,
We're told, no woman has.

Her. Here is my life,
And any Fate may have it that will make
Your brother live. Will you forgive me then?

Señ. [Kissing her] Ah, dear, you could not know....

Her. How did you hear?

Señ. From Chartrien.

Her. You are friends?

Señ. So true he seems
Not friend but friendship to my soul. And I
Talk here, while yonder he——

Her. They dare not! No!
My father would.... My father? Oh, Señora! [Sobs hopelessly]

Señ. We'll find a door to this.

Her. Would Ziralay
Not help?

Señ. Had he the wit, he would not dare.
While I'm his wife he must keep double guard
Against suspicion.

Her. Oh!

Señ. If there's one true,
'Tis Guildamour. I'll go to him.

Her. At once!
He took that path.

Señ. I know what shade he seeks
When he would brood.

[Exit Señora, upper right. Hernda waits drooping, as if too weary for thought. A group of ladies and gentlemen enter, lower right, among them Guildamour]

Her. [Starting up] Oh!—Guildamour!

Gui. Your highness!

[Leaves his party chattering lower left, and crosses to Hernda]

Her. Señora seeks you.

Gui. Ah, about the prince?

Her. We have a hope, my lord, your hand may turn
Some stone of rescue.

Gui. Mine are powerless hands,
Pinned to inaction's cross. My eyes may turn
No way that is not watched. To lift my lids
May raise a cry of "Treason!"

Her. There's no help?
In all this land no help?

Gui. Megario,
Could he be softened to it, is the man
Who might with safety slip a secret bolt
For Chartrien.

Her. He!

Gui. His name is set above
The nick of treason by his stern dispatch
Of poor LeVal,—and, that struck off, he yet
Is chronicled so dark that none would lay
A fair deed at his door.

Her. Megario!

Gui. I would not name him, but I know he loves you,
And there's no soul that love may not endue
With tinge of Heaven.

[Re-enter Señora]

Her. Señora!

Señ. [Panting] I have seen him!

Gui. The prince?

Her. Not Chartrien?

Señ. Yes!

Gui. Escaped?

Señ. The guards
Were of our heart—they let him make the wood—
I've hidden him——

Her. Oh, where?

Señ. Within the cave
Veiled by the waterfall. But safety there
Is minute-frail.

Gui. What way? He'll climb the wall?

Señ. And drop into the river.

Gui. Yes. What guard
Walks there? I see. 'Tis Miguel. And I know
Somewhat of him,—more than he'd tell the winds.

Señ. Thank Heaven for a sinner! When he's next
Behind the rocks, then to him, Guildamour,
And be his palsying conscience. Peg his feet
To the earth!

Gui. Trust me, Señora!

Señ. I'll lead off
Those babblers. Princess, you're the watch,—you'll give
The signal.

Her. Ah! What is 't?

Señ. Two pebbles dashed
Into the water is our sign.

Her. The guard!
He's gone!

Gui. It is our time. [Exit into wood, rear]

Her. [As the talkative group move up] Take them away,
Señora! It would kill me now to meet
A painted smile.

Señ. I'll go. And you—be swift.
Don't stop—don't think. [Joins group]
I know where lordings three
Wait for as many maids.

A young lady. You saw them pass?

Señ. Disconsolate.

Young Lady. O, to the river!

Another. Come!

[They go off with Señora, lower left]

Her. Now! [Takes up two stones. Ziralay and Megario come out of the house]
Oh! [She drops the stones. They cross to her]

Meg. You wait?

Her. I read the sentence.

Zir. Death.

Her. And when?

Zir. To-night. They've given Vardas charge
Of 't. He's an eager butcher,—does not know
Delay.

Her. You wished his death.

Zir. I voted no.
Megario laid my doubts.

Her. Did he do that?

Zir. He countered to their teeth.

Her. [To Megario] So merciful
Is hate?

Meg. The prince's death would mean the fall
Of Cordiaz, and our houses rock with his.

Her. Be clearer, pray you.

Meg. Vardas wants the throne,
And we've a sour and guilty faction here
Who'd see him on it, but they dare not move
Against a king yet rich in arms and friends.
And Hudibrand is not so absolute
That he may turn the army of Assaria
On the sole pivot of his word. For that,
Even he must knock the sleeping nation up
And ask good leave.

Her. You'd say, sir, Hudibrand
Would favor Vardas?

Zir. Short and plain, he does.

Her. What then?

Meg. The Assarians are proud, and where
They think their honor's pricked, their pride out-tops
Their judgment. Chartrien's death, whose ugly weight
Must lie with Cordiaz, will inflame their hearts
Till Hudibrand may send an army on us,
His people clapping to 't. In open day
They'll choose the road his cunning cut by night,
And pray him take it.

Zir. Ay, and where are we,
With Vardas crowned in Goldusan?

Her. I see.

Meg. He'd like my million acres in Peonia
Sliced for his foreign hounds!

[Enter an officer]

Zir. What trouble now?

Off. Prince Chartrien has escaped.

Meg. And you in charge?

Off. I sent him with good men, or so I thought,
Being pressed to another way——

Meg. His guards,—what name?

Off. Vinaldo, and a sergeant, who——

Meg. Vinaldo!
He's on the blue list, turning fast to black.
Did you not know it?

Off. I held him, sir, the pick
Of loyalty.

Meg. Well,—on. What else?

Off. They reached
The grove, passed in, and after prudent time,
The guards came out, smug as all right, and now
They're gone,—clear foot,—will doff you from the hills.

Meg. A tale for Vardas! You may save your beard,
But not your neck.

Off. I'll not shake yet. The prince
Is in the grove. We'll soon uncover him.

Zir. The walls are picketed?

Off. A double watch
Is on.

Zir. That's well enough.

Off. On chance he makes
The wall, I've reinforced the river guard.

Meg. Both sides?

Off. A close patrol, both east and west.
Though he had fishes' gills and dived the stream,
He'd not get by. That way is fast against him
As Belam's iron door.

Meg. [To Hernda] You're ill?

Her. No, no!
I'm well—quite well.

Meg. The lily in your cheek
Lies not so bravely.

Off. [To Ziralay] If he gets out of this,
He'll steer around the moon. We'll find him, sir.
But he's most darkly hid. Has made a coat
Of leaves and plays the grouse trick on us.

Zir. Come!
His majesty must know. [Ziralay and officer go into house]

Meg. How may I help you? Let the service be
Of such poor nature as your dog might give,
And pride will whistle to it.

Her. O, my lord,
I half believe you. When our angels fall,
Then devils are not black. And I have lost
My father.

Meg. Devils! You've a tongue.

Her. Forgive
A heart unmantled, and too wild to choose
What word may veil it. I would say, my lord,
In this discolored world I now begin
To find you fair,——

Meg. O, heavenly retraction!

Her. And if I ask a service it will be
No paltry one, but such as makes the king
Bow to the knight.

Meg. I'll prove this grace
Is native in me, and not solely lent
Of your new bounty!

Her. Would you save the life
Of Chartrien?

Meg. I would. Though a treasonous tool
Of rebelry, he should be held by me
A prisoner of knightliest war.

Her. A prisoner!

Meg. You can not ask his freedom! That would give
My foes clear argument to pluck me bare,
And set me outlawed on the rebel side
Of this deplored division.

Her. Oh, not free!
And in your power!

Meg. To hold him prisoner,—that
I'd undertake, and make the action good
Even to this bloody council.

Her. You'd dare that?

Meg. My policy is open, and I'd dare
To put it into deed that must commend me
To their unwilling justice. To do more
Would disarray all sense,—be fullest like
The idiot's gesture that disrobes the wretch
Of his last sanity.

Her. Megario....

Meg. What secret is so dear these costly sighs,
Like gentle pickets ever reinforced,
Let it not pass?

Her. A secret? No!

Meg. But yes.
I push me by its fragile guardians,
And hear it beating in its citadel.

Her. What says it then?

Meg. You've seen the prince.

Her. My lord!

Meg. You know what shadow hides him.

Her. No, no, no!
My oath, sir, I've not seen him!

Meg. I would trust
One negative, not three. Give him to me,
And you will know he lives. Let him be found
By Vardas' men, and when you wake to-morrow
The earth will be without him.

Her. No, not you!
I'll go to Cordiaz. He'll save the prince
As he would save his throne. You've taught me that.

Meg. He'd lose it so. Should Cordiaz to-night
Set Chartrien free, he'd rise without a lord
To bid him one good-morrow.

Her. Ziralay....

Meg. Ask him? An ass whose ears if visible
Would signal Mars! Say he had courage for you,
He'd blunder with the prince to Vardas' arms.

Her. Ah, you could do it,—set him free!

Meg. Nay—don't—
Don't ask it, if you've mercy! Your highness knows
I could not grant so much though lips I love
Above my soul should beg that treason of me.
Though they should take again those dearest words
That knighted me, and now lie in my heart
Like swelling seed of fortune! Let me shield
His life. In saintliest trust—— [She shudders from him]
You fear me so?

Her. I do! I do! You took away LeVal,
And he no longer lives.

Meg. He does! My oath,
He does!

Her. You spared him?

Meg. By my soul, he lives!
But let the word sleep in your vestal ear,
Until these smouldering troubles die to dust
And feed the grass above them. For the State
Believes LeVal is dead, nor taints me with
Such treacherous clemency. See how I lay
My safety and my honor in your hands?
I give them, hostages for Chartrien!
Ah, you should know how I will guard your trust,
For when I say to you he does not live,
Your eyes will slay the single, nurturing hope
Of my own life!

Her. [Battling] I can not! I'm not Fate
To do her awesome work.

Meg. We aid her most
With passive hand, as Chartrien's ghost will come
On mourning nights to tell you.

Her. Oh, I'll speak!...
No, no! Ah, never, never!

Meg. [Resolute, giving up his suit] I must join
The hunt. There's but one place—the cave——

Her. The cave!

Meg. Those guards are fools—or shy of water.

Her. Sir,
What cave?

Meg. He's there. Your cold, uncandid calm
Has babbled it. The frost is crafty that
Puts out such anxious fire.

Her. My lord, if I
Should tell you....

Meg. Quickly then! How canst debate
So fatally, knowing delay but robs him
Of venture's favor? Every moment steals
A bud of chance.

Her. How will you take him out?

Meg. I'll pass the gates unchallenged. Close without,
My car stands by,—a racer never spent,
And begs no pause. Know he is safe, and sleep.
Night will be secret, and we'll greet the sun
In my Peonia——

Her. Ah, Peonia's far!

Meg. And Vardas near.

Her. Take these two stones, my lord.
Cast them into the falls——

Meg. So! I was right!
But you must summon him.

Her. So soon a tyrant?

Meg. I'll take him from your hands,—no other way.
Your trust to me! And with my life I'll guard it!
For that you love him is my means to you.
Once in your heart, I'll win the throned place
Though all his saints defend it!

Her. True, my friend,
We shall be nearer, for anxiety
Will draw me to you with a longing like
The aching letch for morning in the eyes
Pain keeps astare. You then will be the goal
Of fondest question,—and from that—who knows?
Out of unbroken faith, and kindly shafts
'Tween hearts disponent, bridges have been built
For love's plenipotence to cross.

Meg. You bid
Me hope?

Her. I do not say despair. Sometimes
A presto-worker sits within the soul
Of gratitude, and love that must give thanks
In name of one beloved, has then been known
To pass from the liege object to the heart
Whose compass held them both in selfless bounds
Of chivalry. And yet—I promise nothing!

Meg. I ask no promise but the one I find
In words that so deny it. Now the thought
Is born, I'll make the naked infant grow
Heir of my princely opportunity.
Go now. An instant may defeat us. Haste!
My purse must buy a guard.
[Hernda goes off, upper right. Megario walks left and calls]
Benito! Ho!
You and your fellow!
[Enter two guards]
I have work for you.
You've seen my gold before. Here's more of it.
Stand for my word.

[Hernda returns with Chartrien]

Cha. Gods give me time for one
Wild kiss! O, Heaven! To find and lose you in
One whirling breath!

Meg. [His pistol at aim] You are my prisoner.

[Señora rushes on left]

Señ. Oh, princess! Oh!

Meg. [To guards] Move on with him.

Her. Wait—wait——

Meg. No time.

Her. But I must tell——

Cha. Let fiends be dumb.
You damned and double traitress, this my hand
Could lay you dead!

Meg. [To Hernda, who seems dazed] My goddess, I'll be true!

[Kisses her, and goes off, lower right, with Chartrien and guards]

Señ. You let him kiss you!

Her. Who?

Señ. Megario.

Her. I did not know it. I am dead, I think.

[Curtain]

ACT III

Scene: A yard, walled and spiked, of Megario's hacienda. A long, low hut, the men's sleeping-quarters, at right. In upper centre, a smaller hut which serves for kitchen and also as sleeping-room for several women. On left, the yard continues, showing other huts used by families. The entrance gate is off stage, left. An unused gate, locked and barred in wall, right.

Hernda, in the guise of a young Maya woman known as Famette, stirs a pan of food which is heating on some coals in front of kitchen. Lissa stands in door of hut watching her.

Lis. [Stepping out] You mend, Famette. But when you came—all thumbs.
A woman grown and couldn't spoon up fish!

Fam. It was the smell. How can they eat it, Lissa?

Lis. You'll eat it too.

Fam. That? Never!

Lis. Another week
Will starve you to it.

[Ysobel comes out of kitchen bearing apron full of cups and spoons which she places on ground]

Yso. [Looking left] Here's Masio in. [Enters hut]

Lis. He's always first.
[Masio comes up left] How did my boy get on?

Mas. I wasn't near him in the field.

Lis. He did
His stint?

Mas. I never heard.

Lis. No eyes, no ears,—
All belly, you!

Mas. [Taking up spoon and cup from the pile]
Fish! fish!

Lis. Beans first. You know
The rules.

Mas. I've teeth can break 'em. Fish, Famette!
[Famette puts fish into his cup]
There'll be a blessed cleaning-up to-night.

Lis. More beating? Has the master come?

Mas. [Nods] And on
The rounds. He'll clear the yards. News from the north
Has turned him red and black.

Fam. A flogging? Oh,
If you were men you'd fight with your bare hands
Till you were free!

Mas. Free as the dead. Our blood
Would soak the earth and make more hennequin,—
That's all.

Fam. Then run away.

Mas. How far? The swamps?
To sleep with snakes—a week or less?

Fam. Across
The ridges.

Mas. Where the sun would lap you dry
As crackling cat-guts? Thirst would draw you in
To th' next hacienda well. The masters own
The water, and in this land, that's life.

Fam. No chance?
They never get away?

Mas. Sometimes a man
Makes Quito, but he soon comes back.

Fam. Comes back?

Mas. What else? In Quito there's no work. He starves.
And here—there's beans. So he gives up, and then
They send him back.

Fam. And he is flogged?

Mas. Ay, till
His bones crack.

Fam. Oh! He bears it?

Mas. Like a man,
My dear.

Fam. The coward!

Mas. So—back to the field,
Mute as a snail, and poorer too, for then
The dream is gone of any life but this.

Fam. They have no spirit—none!

Mas. Much as you'll have
This time next year.

Fam. Next year? I shall be gone.
My debt was just ten pesos.

Mas. [Incredulous] You were sold
For that?

Fam. I'll work it out.

Mas. Be 't ten or hundreds,
Who comes here stays. You'll soon know that, my bird,
And limber your fine neck.

[As they talk, men and women enter in groups of scores and dozens until there are several hundred in the yard. They are mostly of mixed blood, their color ranging from the full brown of the Maya to the pale olive of the Peonian aristocrat. At a spout, upper left, they wash their hands, then drop about wearily. One man sits near Famette, his head sunk on his chest. She lays her hand on his shoulder]

Fam. What, Garza, you?
Who were so blithe this morning, on your way
To freedom?

Garza. [Rocking] Mother of God! Oh, Mother of God!

Fam. What is it, Garza?

Mas. There you have it! You see
Who comes here stays.

Fam. But he was free! His friend
Brought twenty pesos to pay off his debt.

Gonzalo. And when he went to pay it, on the books
There stood two hundred pesos against Garza.

Mas. Two hundred—twenty,—you see, Famette,
How much a little "o" can do.

Fam. They dare
Do that? I'll see the magistrate! [The men stare at her]

Mas. [Patting her shoulder] Poor girl!

Fam. I will! Why not? What is he for?

Gon. What for?
To see we are well beaten when we ask
For justice. He must serve who pays him,—that's
The master.

Fam. Oh, you worse than slaves!

Mas. No names,
My proudling. Wait a year, then what you please.

[The men have been eating. Ysobel stands in door of hut holding a great bowl of beans from which the peons fill their cups. Lissa gives out the fish. Her boy, Iduso, crouches by her skirts]

Lis. [To boy] Not eat? Now you're a man? Twelve years to-day!

Fam. [Bending over Iduso] Is 't fever, Lissa?

Lis. [With sullen jealousy] Let him be, Famette.
What do you know? You've got no children.

Fam. I've
A little brother.

Lis. Brother! Nothing that.

Fam. He's just Iduso's age.

Lis. [Softened] And has to take
A man's work on him?

Fam. N-o——

Lis. I said it now.
What do you know? Look at your hands—not stumps
Like mine.

Mas. Who hugs the post to-night?

Gon. I heard
Of seven warned.

Yso. My man! He hasn't come!

Mas. God's mercy, give us peace! It was his turn
To put away the knives.

[Ysobel leans against hut. Famette takes bowl from her]

Lis. There's seven, you say?

Ben. None from this yard. Famette, you haven't seen
A flogging yet?

Fam. And never will, you beast!

Ben. Your never's short,—less than an hour.

Fam. What do you mean?

Ben. The whip draws blood to-night,
And we must all look on, for our soul's good.
It is the master's order.

Fam. I'll not go!

Mas. Why, God looks on, Famette, and so may we.
All Heaven sees it, and I'll pledge my—fish—
That not an angel blanches.

Gon. You should see
The master!

Fam. He is there? Does he look on?

Mas. O, not quite that. To eye the work
Would show too grossly, but you'll see him there,—
Somewhat aside, leaning against a yew,
Most carefully at ease. Then he will light
A delicate cigar that fills the grove
With a fantastic odor, like, we'll say,
Faint musk that creeps on burning pine.
You will approve the quality, Famette.
That is his signal.

Fam. Oh!

Mas. Long as he puffs,
And soft, white rings twirl upward to the leaves,
The lashes fall. And when, grown gently weary,
As 'twere half accident, from his high thoughts
Remote, he clears the cindered tip—like this—
The whip is still.

Fam. Where, where am I?

Mas. In hell,
Sweetheart.

Fam. Who are you, Masio? You are not
As these that suffer speechless.

Mas. Pinch the difference!
A little learning, and a few opinions
That brought me here.

Fam. [Moving aside with him] What did you do?

Mas. I spoke
The truth too near the ear of Cordiaz,
And there's no greater crime.

Fam. You are a prisoner?
But you're not guarded.

Mas. No, they leave me free,
In hope I'll run. Then they will shoot me down.
And you—what brought you here? Ten pesos
Could never buy you—nor a hundred either.

Fam. I mean to lead these men to join Bolderez:

Mas. What! Lead them out?

Fam. And you will help me do it.

Mas. Well, when I want to die. You're mad.
We're all
Sprats in a net. You'll not get out, once let
The master see you. Better hide those eyes——

Yso. [Running and catching Masio by the shoulder]
You lied to me! You lied! They've got my Grija!
Down in the lower yard!

Grija. [Entering and making his way to her] No! Here I am.
Safe in, old tear-box.

Yso. Holy Mary! [Tells her beads rapidly as he leads her aside]

Fam. [Aroused] Men!
If Osa looked from yonder mountain scarp,
Would she descend to lead such currish hearts
To liberty?

Gon. We are not dogs.

Fam. Then shame
To bear the life of dogs!

Ben. What do you know
Of Osa?

Fam. Know? Does she not guard the shrine
Cherished ten centuries in your secret hills?
Priestess and princess, daughter of your kings,—
The ancient poet kings who ruled and sang
In palaces where now your huddled huts
Give you a slave's foul shelter!

A Voice. Will she come?

Fam. To such as you? With heads hung down, and backs
Bared for the whip? The moment that you hold
Your manhood dearer than your life, she'll stand
Before you. Then you'll see——

Mas. For God's sake, hush!
The master!

Ben. [As all look left] No, it's Coquriez.

Gon. With his Gringo.

[Coquriez enters with Chartrien. They cross right]

Cha. Leave me alone.

Coq. My soul, am I not sick
Of your dumb lordship? Now the master's here,
I hope, by Jesu, that our ways will part.

[Turns and joins the men, leaving Chartrien seated on the stone step of one of the doors to the long hut, right. Megario enters unseen and stands watching, left. They gradually become aware of his presence, and all are silent]

Meg. Coquriez!

Coq. [Crossing left] Here, sir!

[The tension relaxes slightly. Lissa and Ysobel quietly distribute food and the men eat in silence. Famette keeps in shadow, a shawl over her head, and vainly tries to hear what Megario and Coquriez are saying. They talk in low tones at left, then more centre, front]

Coq. Shoot the Gringo, sir?
I thought he was to live.

Meg. It must be done
To-morrow.

Coq. I'll do it.

Meg. Take him on the road,
And don't come back with him.

Coq. To-morrow, sir?

Meg. At day-break. Drop him cold. I was a fool
To let him live a day!
[Famette has advanced too far and Megario sees her]
Who's that?

Coq. There? Oh!
I bought her in last week.

Meg. The day I left?

Coq. I think 'twas then.

Meg. An old one,—so you said.

Coq. About the Gringo, sir,——

Meg. What is her name?

Coq. Famette.

[Famette goes back to the women]

Meg. A figure too.

Coq. It's not so easy
To drop a white-skin——

Meg. Come, Famette! Come here.
[She turns and comes slowly]
Old? By the gods! Why did you lie to me?

Coq. My lord ... you like none past fourteen.
She's that
Half over.

Meg. Brazen devil! Come, Famette.
I like your name. I like your face too, girl.
Don't be afraid. Show me your eyes. You won't?
Where have I seen you?

Fam. I'm a stranger, sir.
My home was in the north.

Meg. That fester-spot!
A stranger? Then we must be good to you.
Where do you sleep?

Fam. There, in the hut.

Meg. You'll have
A better soon. Next time I'll see your eyes. [Going]
Mind, Coquriez, to-morrow! Do that well,
I'll pardon this. [Exit]

Fam. What is 't you do to-morrow?
And why do you need pardon? You who serve
So well?

Coq. My pretty bird, I've been too slow.

Fam. Too slow?

Coq. I've limped, and lost.

Fam. Ah, Coquriez!

Coq. You're not afraid of me. You look at me,
And turned from him. That's honey on his curse!

Fam. He curses you? And you do all for him!
All that he asks you,—things he dares not do
With his own hand.

Coq. You care for that?

Fam. You risk
Your soul, perhaps,——

Coq. 'Tis certain. Pray for me,
Chiquita.

Fam. When?

Coq. To-morrow I must leave
The Gringo in the marshes.

Fam. Oh, 'twas that!
And paid with curses——

Lis. [Calls, as a new batch of men come in]
Come, Famette! Here's work!

Fam. We'll talk again. [Hurries to Lissa]

A man. The beans are cold.

Another. Soured too!
Gray Moses, here's a life!

Mas. Do you complain,
O, comrades? Now your hour is come? The pearl
O' the long ungarnished day? The holy hour
Of—beans? Why, think! What do we live for, men?
For sweaty moments battling 'gainst the sun
To strip the thorny hennequin? For nights
Of bitten sleep in unwashed pens? Not so.
Lift up your cups! Here is the crown of toil!
Each day we reach our life's supremest dome,
And know we're there! Can man ask more? Even kings,
Though the gold frontal of munificence
Is bowed before them, yet must fretting guess
The morrow's store. But we, my friends, we know!
Then let each separate and distinct legume,
Dear as the Egyptian treasure lost in wine,
Delay as preciously——

Coq. [Cutting him across shoulders]
Come down from that!
There's more for you, my friend, i' the lower yard.
I'll tie you up.

Fam. O, Coquriez, let him go.
You should not care. His tongue was born with him,
And God may mend it. Let the fool alone.

Coq. Hmm, if you ask me——

Fam. Thank you, Coquriez.
I'll stand for him he'll not offend again.

Mas. My tongue is glue. 'Twill stick to its place.

A man. Fish! fish!

Another. He's had his share.

The man. Not half a cup!
O, Jesu, I am starved. I did my stint,
And helped the boy, Famette. Can I do that
On half a cup?

Fam. No, Berto, here is more.

Yso. The Gringo does not eat.

Fam. I'll take him this.

[Fills cup from bowl of beans and goes to Chartrien, who is still seated on the step, listless and observing nothing]

Fam. Señor?

Cha. Who spoke? O, you, Famette? No, thanks.
I can not eat. [Turns from her] That's twice I've heard the voice
Of Hernda. Madness creeps, but surely comes.

Fam. [Over his shoulder] You must escape to-night.

Cha. [Facing her] Escape? To-night?

Fam. Here, hold the cup, and eat. Do, sir! We're watched.
To-morrow Coquriez leads you to the woods,
Comes back alone——

Cha. At last I know my hour.

Fam. But you shall live. Last night I worked till day
At that locked gate. 'Tis open. None suspects.
Outside there's water in a flask, and bread,—
Beneath the cactus at the left——

Cha. But how
Get out? I am locked in at night, and watched
At other hours.

Fam. Eat, eat, and listen, Señor!
To-night a flogging in the lower yard
Will empty this. You'll go with Coquriez.
Urge him to bring you back. Say you are ill,—
For that you are,—and come. Here I shall hide,
And as you pass, will suddenly step out
And speak to Coquriez. You fall behind,
In shadow of my hut, move round it, wait
This side, then see what's next to do.

A man. [Calling] Famette?
Where is Famette? She doesn't count the beans.

[Famette goes back to the men]

Cha. It is a lure. If I attempt escape,
Then Coquriez shoots me dead, his soul just clear
Of murder.

Coq. [To Famette] Our Gringo's learned to eat, I see.

Cha. Now do they change confederate nods, and gaze
Their mated thoughts. Down, down to dust, my heart!
The struggle's off. I'll fight no more. Yon stars
Have rest for me. Is 't so? Vain footing there.
What rest have they, that share with man the surge
From life to life? There Jupiters unfound
Whirl cooling till their straining sides may bear
Ocean and land and clinging bride of green;
And Saturns, nameless yet, cast travailing
Their ringed refulgence. Not the frozen moons
May fix in stillness, but sweep captive back
To flaming centres when their planets call.
There old, dead suns, that think their work is done,
Meet crashing, ground to cloudy fire whose worlds,
Far driven, traverse time and know men's days.
Ay, one may go beyond the ether's breath,
Farthest of all, to be another First,
Undreaming this our God. And I must shift
Eternal and unresting as those suns.
Then let Death hasten. He shall be as one
Who timely strips a wrestler of his cloak,
And, kindly freed, I shall uncumbered leap
To other battle, finding armor where
I find my cause.

A man. [To Famette] My turn. Here, give me that.

Fam. The Gringo's had no fish.

The man. Then give me his.
He doesn't care. Has run already from
The smell.

Fam. I'll give you half. The rest
I'll take to him.

Coq. He'll come for what he wants.

Fam. No, he is sick, poor devil! [Goes to Chartrien]

Coq. Humph!

Fam. [To Chartrien] You'll take
The chance? There is no other.

Cha. It's a trap.
You risk your life for me, a Gringo? No.

Fam. You must believe me! Oh, what can I say!

Cha. Say nothing. Go.

Fam. I love you, love you, Señor!

Cha. You would persuade me.

Fam. Sir, the wine you found
Behind your prison door,—and good, clean bread,—
I put them there!

Cha. 'Twas you, Famette? I thought
That Coquriez did it,—feared I'd die before
The master came.

Fam. Not his brute heart! And then
That night, of fever——

Cha. Yes! What then?

Fam. I lay
Outside your jail, my head against the wall,
That I might hear if once you groaned, or know
If sleep had come.

Cha. Can such love be for me?

Fam. You must—you must believe me!

Cha. God, your eyes!
[She lowers her head]
... 'Tis madness, bred of these sun-poisoned days,
And nights without a hope.... Look up, Famette.
I do believe you.

Fam. [Kissing her rosary] Mother, adored and blessed!

Cha. Wilt be a beggar soldier's bride, Famette?

Fam. You do not love me, Señor.

Cha. But I love
Your gentle heart that warms mine empty,—love
Your eyes, like memories burning,—and your voice
That's linked to an old wound in me,—but most
I love your soul that is as great as truth
And strong as sacrifice. You'll come to me
In Quito, if I make escape? I'll find
A way to bring you out——

Fam. You're mine?

Cha. Till death.

Fam. And after that?

Cha. I'll give you truth for truth.
Beyond this world I hope to meet a soul
Who did not walk in this, but ought to have,
For here her body dwelt. This side of death,
My life—a bitter one, that only you
Have sweetened—is your own, if you will have
So mean a gift.

[Ipparro has entered the yard and becomes a centre of altercation. He starts out taking Lissa's boy, Iduso. There is a shriek from Lissa, and Famette hurries to her]

Lis. My boy! My little one!
God strike you dead, Ipparro!

Fam. You'll not flog
The boy?

Ipp. He didn't do his stint by half.
You know the master's rules. He's twelve years old.
Must cut three thousand leaves.

Fam. A man's full work.
And he's so small.

Lis. And sick he is. Two days
He couldn't eat.

Ipp. You women!

Fam. Let him go.
A little child, Ipparro.

Ipp. Let him go?
Am I the master of the hacienda?
He'll tie me up to-morrow!

Fam. It will kill
Iduso.

Lis. Such a little one, he is!
A baby yesterday,—to-day a man,—
How can that be?

[An overseer enters left]

Overseer. What's up? Come on with you!
The master waits,—burns like perdition! Come!
Come, all of you! The women too! Clear out!

[Drives them out. Famette slips into her hut. Chartrien joins the men and follows last with Coquriez. They stop left]

Coq. Won't see the show?

Cha. I'll not go on.

Coq. Come then.
I'll lock you up. [They turn back]
We'll have an early march
To-morrow, mate. Must hit the brush by dawn.
There's little sleep for me.

Cha. Shall I have more
In that hot pen?

Coq. [Laughs] You'll make it up, I guess.

Cha. I understand. You'll murder me.

Coq. My soul!
Let's keep our manners, though we sit in hell,
My occupation's decent, nothing said.
The silent deed is clean, but mouth it once,
The hands will smell. Pah!
[Famette steps out of hut]
Here's my kitten!
A kiss, my honey-pot!

Fam. I've better for you.
[Gives him a bottle of wine]

Coq. My ducky! From the master's cellar!
. . . . . . . . . . How——

Fam. No matter. It is good.

Coq. Thief of my soul,
A kiss!

[As he attempts to embrace her she springs back, pointing left]

Fam. Look, look! He's gone! The Gringo flies!
O, Coquriez, you'll be shot!

Coq. [Stunned for a moment, springs off shouting]
Help! Stop him! Help! [Exit left, firing his pistol]
The Gringo! Stop him!

[Famette runs to gate right, where Chartrien is removing bar]

Cha. Come! Fly with me! Now!
I can not leave you here!

Fam. Go! Do not stop,
However weary, till you're safe in Quito.
The wounded hare, remember, takes no nap.

Cha. Come, come!

Fam. No, I am safe. And there's more work
For me. They'll come back here to search. Nay, go!
Another moment and we both shall die!

Cha. [Kissing her] I'll wait in Quito,—then a husband's kiss!

[Goes. Famette puts up bar, then returns to her hut and sinks at door]

Fam. If I could pray! If I could pray! How far
Seems that old God I knew! A playhouse God
Who never saw the world! [Leaps up]
They're coming back!

[Sits again, abjectly, her shawl over her head. Megario, Coquriez, and peons, enter]

Meg. Where is the woman?

Coq. There she sits,—the witch!

Meg. Stand up! Take off that shawl!

[Famette stands up. A man snatches the shawl from her head]

Meg. Famette! Not you?

Fam. [Cowering] I, master.

Meg. [To men] Search the yard. Turn every leaf
And stone.

[The men scatter]

Mas. I'll give that gate a look. [Crosses to gate right]

Meg. This was
Your drooping modesty! [Turns on Coquriez]
You fool!—to let
The man escape! By Heaven, you might have burnt
The hacienda down and not have made
My blood so hot!

Coq. It was the woman, sir.
She jumped before me, smiling like a devil,
And when I tried to pass she caught my knees
And held this thing up, saying 'twas for me.
I kicked her off——

Meg. No doubt!

Coq. And when I turned
The prisoner was gone.

Meg. [To Famette] You saw him go?

Fam. Yes, master. Through the gate, like wings. And then
I gave the warning. Coquriez knows I did.

Meg. What did she say?

Coq. She cried "The Gringo flies!"
And pointed there.

Mas. [Returning] The upper gate is fast.
He went that way. [Nods left] Beneath the cypresses
Into the maguey fields.

A man. He'll not get far.
He has no water.

Meg. He will die in th' brush,
And I shall never know it. Alive or dead,
He must be found. I'll flog a man a day,
Until I see his bones.

Gon. [Coming up] He is not here.
We've looked in all the huts.

Meg. Ipparro?

Ipp. Sir!

Meg. Send men abroad, for fifty miles about,
To put the haciendas on the watch.
He must come in for water. Choose good men,
Who ride, and see no wenches by the way.

Coq. My lord, I've served you long——

Meg. Too long, you hound!
Where is your lady's token?

Coq. This, my lord.
She thrust it in my hand.

Meg. And left it too!

Coq. I knew 'twas yours.

Meg. [To Famette] A thief too, are you?

[Famette crouches, drawing shawl over her head]

Meg. True,
Coquriez, you have served me long. I'll add
You've served me well until to-night.

Coq. O, pardon!

Meg. I trusted you. And held your hand as mine,
To make my wishes deeds.

Coq. 'Tis sworn your own!

Meg. Then prove it. Take this whip. Come, take it, man!
Now flog that witch.

Coq. Famette! A woman, sir?

Meg. The devil's second name is woman. Do it!

Coq. A heavy hand I've laid on men, my lord,
But never yet——

Meg. Her smile struck deep to make
Such putty of your heart.
[Coquriez drops whip] Pick up that whip!
You want its kisses, do you? Pick it up,
Or you shall feel them to your traitor bones!
I'll have you flogged together!

[Coquriez slowly picks up whip. Famette rises, throwing off her shawl]

Fam. Hear me, men!
For men you are,—not beasts. Your hands are strong
In ceaseless toil. Day after day you pile
Your master's wealth more high. Day after day
You sweat your way a little nearer death,
That he may kick your bodies from his path
And set your graves in hennequin. But know
Who toils may fight! The hand that lifts a spade
May bear a sword. The strength you give to him,
Use for yourselves. Your master is one man,
You are five hundred——

Meg. Gods! I'll stop your mouth!
You men there—go—you dozen at the gate—
Go to the dry-yard—load your backs with fibre—
And bring it here!
[Men go out]
I'll teach you now, you slaves!
You are five hundred—yes—and I am one,
But in me is the might of Goldusan!
The power of Cordiaz is in my whip,
And back of that is iron Hudibrand!
Kill me to-night, to-morrow you shall die,
Each dog of you,—you know it!
[Men come in with fibre]
Throw the stuff
Against the hut. There, pile it up. More, more!
Now, Coquriez, the gentle, you've refused
To ruffle your fond dove,—here's sweeter work,
And for no hand but yours. Put her within,
Then fire the hut. [Utter silence]
What terror's on you, beasts?

Coq. In God's name, sir, you dare not!

Meg. In the name
Of all who know how power is kept, I dare!
Move there, you dog!
[Coquriez stands motionless]
Do you refuse again?
Then ... in your heart. [Shoots. Coquriez falls dead]
Who'll be the next to stand on feet of lead
When I say "Do?" Gonzalo! Garza! Out!
[The men do not move. Megario lifts his pistol]

Fam. Spare them, Megario. I'll go in.
[Enters hut, closing door]

Meg. [Trembling] That voice!
Who is this woman? Speak! Who knows? I've heard....
Bah! I'm a fool!... Take up that lantern there,
Gonzalo. Break it on the fibre. Move!

[He stands with his weapon drawn. The door of the hut in thrown open and Famette appears. She wears a rich robe, gleaming white, with blue and gold cabalistic broidery. In her hand is a sceptre, on her head a crown with a single star. The men, with cries of "Osa! Osa!" fall upon their knees, foreheads to ground, then leap up, changed, and glaring. They seem ready to spring upon Megario]

Fam. Shoot now, Megario! [Silence]
You dare not do it!
Kill me,—kill one of them,—shoot till your weapon
Pants its last murder, and a hundred hands
Will tear you limb from limb and bone from bone,
Till every separate shred of you be cast
To its own devil! Shoot, Megario!
[His hand falls. Famette steps into the yard]
Where are the masters who can help you now?
The mighty ones who know how power is kept?
Look on these men. Their blood sings as it sang
Through centuries gone,—with courage that was theirs
Ere ships came up like night on this doomed coast
Unloading hell!

Meg. Who are you, woman? Who?

Fam. The spirit of these people, absent long,
But come at last to be their hearts' old fire.
Four hundred years you've trampled on their bodies,
But see—look in their eyes—you have not slain
Their God.

Meg. Your name! Who are you?

Fam. Riven hills
May hide the shrine of long unsceptred kings,
And keep their royal secret year by year.

Voices. Hail, Osa! Osa, queen!

Meg. What do you want?