 | Brangonar |  |
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ACT II.
Scene I.
Chamber of the Council of Six.Riordo, Lovéro, Trifone, Carlan.
RIORDO.
Of public men the basest sort are they
Who keep bold places in the general view,
And lack the manly pith to dress their words
As heralds of the heart.
TRIFONE.
But baser still
Are the poor hirelings of occasion, who,
Hanging their judgment on the moment's nod,
Still wait and wait to see where time will strike.
CARLAN.
To which of these belong our absent colleagues?
RIORDO.
One to the one, one to the other sort.
LOVÉRO.
Let us not weigh them in too subtle scales.
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They cannot cope with our lean nimbleness,
Who are and make the disincumbered now.
RIORDO.
The load of this day's duty is so great
'T were guiltiness to waste more speech on them.
Shall an imperious soldier wrest the State
From its wide orbit's drift, distorting it
To his small option; and shall we, who are
High trustees of the nation, tamely bide,
And let this wicked usurpation range;
Or, wield the holy lordship in our keep,
And strike it to the earth ere it hath hardened?
This is the question we to-day must solve.
CARLAN.
To-day, this very hour; for Brangonar,
Strong in the sinews of ambitious will,
And daily stronger in the selfish love
Of a triumphant soldiery, hath now
His hand upon the hilt, with faithless sword
To carve a despot's brutal diadem.
TRIFONE.
Our function's fullness he hath disallowed,
Hath played the chief where he was subaltern,
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Spurned our decrees, and from their clean intent
Our orders wrenched with contumacious will,
Sole wielding proud the dues of sovereignty.
RIORDO.
Wherefor with dangerous disobedience' bane—
Defiant of the State's authority—
He stands attainted. Thence, I move he be
To-day deposed. Generals we have as good
And less assumptive.
LOVÉRO.
To depose him now,
In mid career, when on our eager flag
Victory and he are stampt inseparable,
When lustiest foemen shrink before his tread,
And every soldier in our onward host
Feels that the soul of bounding Brangonar
Glows in his own,—this were to paralyze
The Nation's heart. Let us be one with him,
Not dare him with abrupt hostility.
His is a rightful power, as well as ours.
United we might hold the world in awe,
For its great betterment.
CARLAN.
My voice, like yours,
Riordo, is for instant deposition.
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And mine.
Enter Brangonar.
RIORDO
(confronting him).
How come you here? You are deposed.
BRANGONAR.
You are deposed.
RIORDO.
What ho! Without there! Guards!
Enter three or four soldiers.
BRANGONAR.
Arrest these three, and let them be safe guarded.
LOVÉRO.
Soldiers, hold off!
BRANGONAR.
Who dares withstand my act?
LOVÉRO.
Justice and the dread majesty of law.
But now you stood upon a single height,
Whence none could wrest you, saving one,—yourself.
Unsay that heinous word: 't is not yet act.
If you descend, you fall to rise no more.
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Soldiers, do you your duty. Take them hence.
[Exeunt the soldiers with the three. Lovéro gazes after them a moment, then walks to the Council-table and seats himself.
BRANGONAR
(approaching him).
Lovéro—Know you what you do, Lovéro?
LOVÉRO.
Know you what you have done? You do not know:
Men see not wrong for inward turbidness.
Were every act to th' actor luminous
With its whole nature, he would feel its being
So in the core of his, that false and bad
Would hideously themselves demonstrate bare,
And the quick soul, with its then insight sure,
Would shun corruptive contacts, as the hand
Its waste from fire, the blood decease from frost.
You know not what you 've done; for if you did,
Did see th' uncoiling horrors of this act,
Did read its lengthening scroll, ghastly with blood,
Ghastlier with every freedom's quivering death,
With most unholy hopes all apoplexed,
The vision would the temporal senses blast,
Swiftly dismember your incorporate being,
The soul escaping to securer home,
To leave its clay here cold upon the ground.
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These bubbles of the brain, these emptinesses,
Are transient toys, and have no driving pith.
Blow them if 't be your humor; but alone.
You will not help me: hinder me you shall not.
LOVÉRO.
Can emptiness be emptier than this,
[Rising.
For you to deem that me you can command?
How much you lack for the sublimest part!
How much for the full making of a man!
None other can command my speech, my act.
BRANGONAR.
Beware, beware, Lovéro, how you thwart me.
LOVÉRO.
Go you the way you 've chosen: I go mine.
[Exit.
BRANGONAR.
He is incurable—or I am so.
Men visionary range so high, the thoughts
They chase mount so to vague imaginations,
They cannot stoop to give their words effect
In action. Action needs directness clear,
Marriage 'twixt thought and clean accomplishment.
When thought has not the body for fulfillment,
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Best purposes grow lame and impotent.
Lovéro ever chases fleeing hopes.
He thinks men better than they e'er will be.
In times like these such men are dangerous;
For passions heated must be bound in moulds,
And not have room to spread and flame at large;
For so, their untamed fiery virtue shoots
To conflagration, that consumes itself,
And choicest building stuff to ashes turns.
He 's true, but has, although he knows it not,
Ambition to be first. If he would serve,
He were for me a peerless instrument.
[Exit.
Scene II.
A Public Square.Enter Alardo and Borini, meeting.
ALARDO.
Well met, Borini. We much want a man—
BORINI.
“We want:” is that the new Imperial style?
ALARDO.
Truth speaks at times through jest: of that anon.
We want a man, clear, keen, and practical,
In whose brain glistens sap from subtle roots,
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In th' interchange of thought, more than he gives.
BORINI.
Your master—mark I do not flatter him—
Can do great things, but can he make this man?
For else, how will you get your nonpareil?
ALARDO.
We want him for a place of trust and reach,—
And of most gainful opportunities.
And thou art he we need.
BORINI.
You do not jest?
ALARDO.
In graver earnest never did I wield
My right of speech.—Here comes a wary bird:
Now help me snare him. Your sharp wit, Borini—
You'll know on whom henceforth to whet its edge.
Enter Tesafo.
Count Tesafo,—fear not to hear your title,—
Of the old times the best is coming back,—
You know the news?
TESAFO.
The capture of Agost?
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Flight of the Barcan King. Another peace.
Three moons have scarcely waned since the great Consul
With single hand doth sway our sceptred might.
Already order and prosperity
Do reënjoy their own. Not arms alone
Have thriven: Commerce blithe, Wealth's wakeful nurse,
Ready pacificator, threads again
Her myriad sheltered paths. Men feel once more
Firm ground beneath their tread, wherein to plant
Securely. Tesafo, you have estates
In the rich province of Belmirimar?
TESAFO.
A patch or two. Would they were salable!
ALARDO.
You will be bounden to me, if I bare
An easy way to give them treble worth?
TESAFO.
So deeply you'll become my creditor
Yourself shall be the sounder of the depth.
ALARDO.
This affluent Province needs a Governor,
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With such a one for its wide ministry,—
A man of head and active competence,—
That region, now decayed, would lift itself
To foremost consequence. Is it not so?
TESAFO.
It might be; aye, it might be.
ALARDO.
What we seek
Is the right man; and him we 've found, the man
For such high post,—high from th' importancy
Of largest functions, higher still from this,
That Governors of these broad Provinces
Will represent the Consul's very self:
They are his viceroys, so to speak. Borini,
Who, guess you, is the sure-eyed Consul's choice?
BORINI.
Presume I will not to divine. But had
His Highness thrown on me the choosing, far
I should not have to look.
ALARDO.
The list is small
Of men fit for these lofty stations. Come,
Give us your choice.
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My judgment, good Alardo,
Is only that of one weak citizen;
And yet, my ken of men's capacities
Is that whereon I long have plumed myself.
My Governor were Count Tesafo.
TESAFO.
Me! Me!
ALARDO.
Borini, you should be his Highness' aide,
Your judgment jumps so pat with his; for know,
Count Tesafo, that I am duly charged
To offer you this topmost place.
TESAFO.
The Consul
Judges me rightly when he deems, Alardo,
He may trust my fidelity to him.
Favors from him I have already had:
This new one's greatness makes me pause.
ALARDO.
Pause not
Too long. The place needs filling: must be filled.
The Consul comes to-day.
[Distant cannon heard.
Ha! there he is.
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Within the hour he will be with us. Come,
Borini, we have much to finish. Count,
Our Chief is swift in his resolves. Farewell.
[Exeunt severally.
Scene III.
A Room in the House of Brangonar.Jesola, Evoya.
JESOLA.
Evoya, I within this last long year
Have wept more tears than all my married days.
And daily heavier on my saddened heart
Presses my weight. Colder and shorter grow
His rarer letters.
EVOYA.
Be of better cheer,
Good sister: Brangonar with his big wars
Is all preoccupied.
[Cannon heard nearer.
JESOLA.
Ha! to the stricken foe
That sound is not more fearful than to me.
EVOYA.
To-day it heralds peace. Shall we not hope
That home will now be nearer to his heart?
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For him there is no peace. For me no more
Can there be peace on earth. To me he 's lost.
As he ascends he seems further from me.
He mounts alone, like the rash venturing madman
Who cleaves the frigid solitary air
In a balloon, to whom earth's men are pigmies.
There lies an icy dread about my heart,—
A dread too terrible for utterance.
[Cannon.
Enter, running, with her fingers in her ears, the daughter of Brangonar and Jesola, a child of about seven years of age, Lovéro following her.
CHILD.
Oh! stop your ears, mamma; there go the guns.
Uncle shuts not his ears, but shakes his head.
JESOLA.
O best Lovéro, glad am I you 're come.
Brother, is it not hard that I to-day,
Alone of all this festive capital,
Must feel dejected?
CHILD.
I do wish papa
Would stay away—he makes mamma so weep.
LOVÉRO.
Dear sister, thine is a sore discipline:
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A blessing to her husband—is denied thee;
For Brangonar hath not the love to know
What daily heaven on earth may be for man
In the calm home where waits for him a wife.
But thou, dear Jesola, hast still a heaven
In that mild breast where nestles warm thy child.
I sometimes almost think unhappiness
A sickly offspring pale of selfishness.
We make our little selves too much our goal,
Thus tying us to ever-shortening tethers.
If in distress we throw the self o'erboard,
Straight the saved bark of life rights to the breeze.
Enter Brangonar.
[The child runs to her mother and clings to her skirts. Jesola advances timidly, and as he then moves towards her throws herself into his arms. He coldly kisses her forehead, then the same to Evoya.
EVOYA.
Brother, how does my husband?
BRANGONAR.
Well, and better.
Here is a greeting he, the General, sends.
EVOYA.
The General!
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Aye, for bravery and skill
I did promote him on the field.
EVOYA.
Thanks, thanks!
BRANGONAR.
Lovéro, I thought not to find you here.
LOVÉRO.
Where should I be but near to those I love?
BRANGONAR.
You are not near to me in love.
LOVÉRO.
As near
As you will let me; nearer than you know.
BRANGONAR.
I have one mark whereby to know my friends,—
Their readiness to serve me.
LOVÉRO.
Can the sun
Serve you, if you wall out his daily beams?
Or could the wind outfill your hoisted sail,
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If I unman me of my inmost impulse,
Quench the deep fountain of my personal force,
Caging its liberal current in a pipe
Mechanical, whose ready cock a child may turn,
I am no more myself, and the first hireling
You meet will stead your wants as well as I.
BRANGONAR.
I am exceptional. Great schemes I have,
Schemes whose accomplishment will maze the world,
Uplift myself, my country and my friends
To heights undreamed of by the common thought.
I have approved myself a chief of men:
The best may serve me and naught derogate
From stoutest manhood. 'T is a false ambition
To exceed one's stature.
LOVÉRO.
I must be myself.
These heights of worldly place are none to me.
He who upstrives to compass them but builds
On Alpine snows; and when th' unceasing life
Of Nature's law does its resistless work,
The lapsing avalanche sweeps him and his
Down to th' abysmal wilderness below.
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Tread still your misty wastes of sentiment:
My journey carries me through firmer tracts.—
Evoya, I 'd have private speech with you.
[Exeunt Jesola and Lovéro. The child stays by Evoya.
Enter a Courier who gives a despatch to Brangonar, who in turning to the Courier says
Evoya, send this pert she-brat away.
[Evoya starts with angry surprise, then exit with the child. Exit Courier.
Evoya, I would throw into thine ear
A something—something.
[Finding she is gone he stamps on the ground.
Ha! Ransack I will
Streets beggarly, where ragged wretchedness
Peers into offal-heaps for nutriment,
To find me those who 've everything to hope.
These o'erfed sluggards have so much to lose,—
Or deem they have in their dull sordidness,—
They have no stomach for a manful risk.
They still think backward to the gilded Past,
Or drowsy downward on the fatted Now.
The men who, nothing having, nothing fear,
These are my tools, men lean enough to climb.
Your dinner-stuffed respectabilities,
Your sleek time-killing slugs,—I'll none of them.
I'll make gaunt Squalor glare in ecstasy
With sudden opening of his starvéd eyes.
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LUSKY.
Your brother, Roso, Sir, would speak with you.
BRANGONAR.
Bid him come in.
[Exit Lusky.
I sent for him; and yet
I partly fear to open all my plan.
He is a prey to fitful qualms, writes verses,
Keeps teasing pets in shape of theories.
He loves me; or he did,—for rapid rise
Cools brothers oft and friends. He has a head
That could to me be useful, if it would.
Of all my brothers most a man is he.
Enter Roso.
ROSO.
Welcome once more to home and Capital,
Great brother!
[Embraces Brangonar.
BRANGONAR.
Great I might be, brother, if—
ROSO.
What doughty if is this, that thrusts itself
Foolhardily on phalanxes of facts?
Or deem you incomplete that greatness' mould
That is not rounded with a regal crown?
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If that be your ambition, speak the word.
BRANGONAR.
A Senator yourself, will you befriend
The big decree?
ROSO.
I should absent myself,
And so not traverse it.
BRANGONAR.
That were t' oppose it.
Even the sword, much more the sceptre, needs
A moral force, to give its sweep success.
If they who 're nearest to me keep aloof,
My pile of power will lack due buttresses.
Too much alone I stand already, and,
When higher still I climb, my loneliness
Might turn to infirmity,—or leave the sword
My single instrument of sway.
ROSO.
And that,
Even in your strong hand, might prove a tool
With double edge.
BRANGONAR.
Will no one understand me?
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Six years, nay, three, gone by. Look where I am.
The viewless strengths have stridden by my side,
And power and change now wait upon my beck.
Great Princes crouch within their palaces:
Peoples uplift them in their naked lairs.
And my career is but begun. Think you
I would be King? I will make Kings. Yourself
I'll make a King.
ROSO.
You ride now on the wind,
And seem to guide it. 'T is a dizzy height,
To sit so steep above your fellow-men,
Yet conscious that the sureness of your seat
Hangs on their million-muscled motion, swung
By the ten thousand potencies of life.
BRANGONAR.
The world aye rocks to men of largest soul.
Danger is a condition of all being.
To be a King! So many Kings are weaklings.
Thou, brother, art a man of strength, of parts
To grace and fortify a lofty Kingship.
ROSO.
Kingship itself is grown an emptiness.
You may rule, King o'er multitudes of men,
But not when the vast crowd itself is ruled
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Kingship befits less thoughtful, simpler times:
These are too salient with bold mounting brains,
To be a floor for Kingship's bowling game.
Brother, farewell. Advice is insolence.
My judgments and opinions I will give
Whene'er you think them worth your listening to.
[Exit.
BRANGONAR,
alone.
There is a mite of meaning in his words;
But naught to balk me of my vast designs.
Resistance makes them bulge. A crown I need,
A crown Imperial, to precipitate
My impatient aims.—And shall a barren hoop
Enring my brow, and I, who to myself
Can give this badge supreme of sovereignty,
Not leave it to my son?—I have no son.—
An Emperor should wed from an Imperial stock.—
That fruit is not yet ripe.
Enter Lusky.
Lusky, what news?
LUSKY.
The royal Duke, Ugento, Sir, is taken.
BRANGONAR.
Ha!
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He was found close on our borders.
[Exit Lusky.
BRANGONAR.
Ha!
They seek my life. I will be even with them.
Th' encounter of two regal opposites,
The old and new, freighted alike with fire,
Charged both with th' essence of the Nation's being,
Hot with the pulses of opinion's life,—
From this encounter's shock shall flash a stroke
Will flutter these stale kinglings on their thrones,
Palsy assassination's muffled hand,
And let the doubting, doting oligarchs
Feel what a lightning slumbers in my will.
They will not know me: this shall teach them much.
He seeks my death, this Duke: he finds his own.
| Brangonar | |