University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—The banks of the Ley.
Enter Estrild and Sabrina.
SABRINA.
But will my father come not? not today,
Mother?

ESTRILD.
God help thee! child, I cannot say.
Why this of all days yet in summer's sight?

SABRINA.
My birthday!

ESTRILD.
That should bring him—if it may.

SABRINA.
May should be must: he must not be away.
His faith was pledged to me as king and knight.

ESTRILD.
Small fear he should not keep it—if he might.

SABRINA.
Might! and a king's might his? do kings bear sway
For nought, that aught should keep him hence till night?
Why didst thou bid God help me when I sought
To know but of his coming?

ESTRILD.
Even for nought
But laughter even to think how strait a bound
Shuts in the measure of thy sight and thought
Who seest not why thy sire hath heed of aught
Save thee and me—nor wherefore men stand crowned
And girt about with empire.

SABRINA.
Have they found
Such joy therein as meaner things have wrought?
Sing me the song that ripples round and round.

ESTRILD
(sings):—

SABRINA.
That song is hardly even as wise as I—
Nay, very foolishness it is. To die
In March before its life were well on wing,
Before its time and kindly season—why
Should spring be sad—before the swallows fly—
Enough to dream of such a wintry thing?
Such foolish words were more unmeet for spring
Than snow for summer when his heart is high;
And why should words be foolish when they sing?
The song-birds are not.

ESTRILD.
Dost thou understand,
Child, what the birds are singing?

SABRINA.
All the land
Knows that: the water tells it to the rushes
Aloud, and lower and softlier to the sand:
The flower-fays, lip to lip and hand in hand,
Laugh and repeat it all till darkness hushes
Their singing with a word that falls and crushes
All song to silence down the river-strand
And where the hawthorns hearken for the thrushes.
And all the secret sense is sweet and wise
That sings through all their singing, and replies
When we would know if heaven be gay or grey
And would not open all too soon our eyes
To look perchance on no such happy skies
As sleep brings close and waking blows away.

ESTRILD.
What gives thy fancy faith enough to say
This?

SABRINA.
Why, meseems the sun would hardly rise
Else, nor the world be half so glad of day.

ESTRILD.
Why didst thou crave of me that song, Sabrine?

SABRINA.
Because, methought, though one were king or queen
And had the world to play with, if one missed
What most were good to have, such joy, I ween,
Were woful as a song with sobs between
And well might wail for ever, ‘Had I wist!’
And might my father do but as he list,
And make this day what other days have been,
I should not shut tonight mine eyes unkissed.

ESTRILD.
I wis thou wouldst not.

SABRINA.
Then I would he were
No king at all, and save his golden hair
Wore on his gracious head no golden crown.
Must he be king for ever?

ESTRILD.
Not if prayer
Could lift from off his heart that crown of care
And draw him toward us as with music down.

SABRINA.
Not so, but upward to us. He would but frown
To hear thee talk as though the woodlands there
Were built no lordlier than the wide-walled town.
Thou knowest, when I desire of him to see
What manner of crown that wreath of towers may be
That makes its proud head shine like older Troy's,
His brows are bent even while he laughs on me
And bids me think no more thereon than he,
For flowers are serious things, but towers are toys.

ESTRILD.
Ay, child; his heart was less care's throne than joy's,
Power's less than love's friend ever: and with thee
His mood that plays is blither than a boy's.

SABRINA.
I would the boy would give the maid her will.

ESTRILD.
Has not thine heart as mine has here its fill?

SABRINA.
So have our hearts while sleeping—till they wake.

ESTRILD.
Too soon is this for waking: sleep thou still.

SABRINA.
Bid then the dawn sleep, and the world lie chill.

ESTRILD.
This nest is warm for one small wood-dove's sake.

SABRINA.
And warm the world that feels the sundawn break.

ESTRILD.
But hath my fledgeling cushat here slept ill?

SABRINA.
No plaint is this, but pleading, that I make.

ESTRILD.
Plead not against thine own glad life: the plea
Were like a wrangling babe's that fain would be
Free from the help its hardy heart contemns,
Free from the hand that guides and guards it, free
To take its way and sprawl and stumble. See!
Have we not here enough of diadems
Hung high round portals pillared smooth with stems
More fair than marble?

SABRINA.
This is but the Ley:
I fain would look upon the lordlier Thames.

ESTRILD.
A very water-bird thou art: the river
So draws thee to it that, seeing, my heart-strings quiver
And yearn with fear lest peril teach thee fear
Too late for help or daring to deliver.

SABRINA.
Nay, let the wind make willows weep and shiver:
Me shall nor wind nor water, while I hear
What goodly words saith each in other's ear.
And which is given the gift, and which the giver,
I know not, but they take and give good cheer.

ESTRILD.
Howe'er this be, thou hast no heed of mine,
To take so little of this life of thine
I gave and would not see thee cast away
For childishness in childhood, though it shine
For me sole comfort, for my lord Locrine
Chief comfort in the world.

SABRINA.
Nay, mother, nay,
Make me not weep with chiding: wilt thou say
I love thee not? Hark! see, my sire for sign!
I hear his horse.

ESTRILD.
He comes!

SABRINA.
He comes today!

[Exeunt.