University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The Shepherd's Dancing-Place. Night.
Thestylis discovered seated on the smaller seat (R.), Alcander standing by her.
Thestylis.
You have done more than all our shepherds could.

Alcan.
Why, what brave deed is that?

Thes.
Have you not won
A kiss from Amaryllis?

Alcan.
I take shame
It was so rudely won. Oh, had you seen her,
The lightning in her eyes, her cheeks aflame
With sudden anger, then so sternly pale;
Her lips, more gracious than the lily's flower
In their proud sculpture, curved in scorn; and I
The clownish wind, rough spoiler of her sweets,
That shook that splendid lily! I could have knelt
And kist her virgin feet, and sued for pardon.
How she must hate me!

Thes.
Ay, but of such hate
May love be born. Trust me, she thinks of you.
You have made fever in her days and nights,
Filled her with visions, shaken her with strange thoughts.
Two days and nights she is a vexèd sea,
Restless and moody as the wild-eyed herds
When Pan afflicts. What wonder if she hate you?

Alcan.
Even such a trouble hath she sown in me.
Were I a man of words, I could become
A sigher like the rest, and hang my head,
Making of her sweet name a thousand songs.

Thes.
If songs could win her, every sighing swain
Had had his part of her, ere you came by.

Alcan.
Well, by the gods, I have no trick of song,
And love no other music than her name.
O divine Amaryllis! O barren phrase
To sound the wordless worship of my soul!
My manhood, matched with her perfection, seems
A graceless churl, with sacrilegious hand
Making assault upon the golden doors
Of Cynthia's temple, till the victory
I dreamed of looks a crime.

Thes.
Be not cast down;
So love conspire to give you victory,
She will forgive her victor.

Alcan.
O that fate
Would set a hundred heroes in her view
And bid me match them all, though each exploit
Cost me a death achieving! Each proud drop,
Warm from my breast, would laugh to kiss her feet,
Uttering Alcander's love. Might she not give me
For guerdon, ere I died, one gracious smile?

Thes.
Why, that were more than singing. But keep your blood;
You shall have better comfort than a smile
To light you Charon's way. One living lover
Were, for my choosing, worth a dozen dead.

Enter Daphnis, L. He remains at the side, half-hidden by a laurel-bush.
Thes.
[Aside.]
Now god of jealousy, arm the god of love,
And we shall play the daintiest comedy!

Alcan.
You give me hope then?

Enter from the back Amaryllis.
Thes.
Kiss my hand upon it.

[He kisses her hand.
Daph.
[Aside.]
What man is this? O Thestylis, I see
Thou art become the general comforter!

Thes.
[To Alcander.]
Here comes my lover with his heart in twain,
Help me to make it whole. Come, woo me, woo me!

Alcan.
[Taking her hands.]
I have twin kids, fairest of that fair breed
That makes my father's wealth: these with their dam
I'll give thee; and a bowl of sycamore
Well-carved and waxed, and virgin to the lip,
So thou but look with favour on my suit.

Daph.
[Aside.]
O veering mind of woman! Shall I speak?

Thes.
Go, fetch thy offering: words are empty breath.

[Exit Alcander, R.
Amaryl.
[Aside.]
O now I see that I have been the sport
Of this most common wooer! Swift to my vengeance,
Before this insult grows a shepherd's tale!

[Exit Amaryllis at the back of the stage, L.
Thes.
[Aside.]
Love in her heart and hatred on her brows
Speeds Amaryllis like a summer storm.
And now for Daphnis. [To Daphnis.]
Ha! what man art thou?
Alcander?

Daph.
Daphnis! O false Thestylis!
Sink not thy lids for shame to look on me?

Thes.
Wherefore? To look upon an eaves-dropper?
But thou wilt keep my counsel, gentle youth?

Daph.
I'll to the wilds and live a savage man,
For there's no truth in woman.

Thes.
What is this?

Daph.
Thy kindness is as fickle as the sea,
Vain as the solace of a flattering wind
That sets the ship singing upon her course,
Then strikes anon the shuddering sail aback.

Thes.
O man's ingratitude!

Daph.
Didst thou not swear
A thousand pretty oaths to be my friend,
To follow me through the world, make me once more
In love with glosing life? Yet now, forsooth—

Thes.
You deem yourself a master with his maid.
May I not hear a wooer? Have I not
Plodded your errands, pleaded your lost cause
With Amaryllis, angered her with my tears,
Made rash divorce in very flowering-time
Between the close-twined branches of our love,
To gain but gloomy looks, cross words from you?

Daph.
Mock me no more with the forgotten tune
Of Amaryllis' name. O Thestylis,
Thou knowest full well with what a conquering charm
Of gentle tones and looks thou hast beguiled me.
Why came thy face haunting the dusk of dreams,
Where Amaryllis, like a setting star,
Sank out of seeing? All my love for her
Seems but the memory of a crocus-flower,
Whose transient flame in cold unbudded woods
Heralds the coming spring, to one imbathed
In blithe and glowing air, when golden May
Peoples with summer lilies plain and hill.

Thes.
Sits the wind so? And have I won the prize
Of thy inconstant heart?

Daph.
Inconstant? Ay,
As the unresting flower that seeks her god
With ever-roaming gaze. So, constant still
To love, I turn from an outwearied hope
To find the very substance of that hope.

Thes.
You turn from fickle thoughts to flattering words.

Daph.
If I have doted on the alien stars
In the absence of the sun, 'twas but the dim
Fore-feeling of the worship I should render
His genial presence when he rose indeed.
And, Thestylis, I thought the sun was up,
And all his comfort shining in thine eyes.
I was deceived. Farewell, live happily!
I'll to the untrodden glades, where brooding Pan
Pipes to his unkind love, shepherd the clouds
Of fantasy, and tame with sad sweet song
The satyr's uncouth tribes.

Thes.
Stay, Daphnis, stay!

Daph.
I'll live no more the mirth of laughing girls.

[Exit, R.
Thes.
Nay, thou shalt find me clinging as the burr
Caught in the tangles of the curling fleece.

[Exit, following him.
Enter Amaryllis with an Attendant carrying a tripod with a brazier of burning coals.
Amaryl.
Set it down here. Give me the magic herbs,
The barley and the wax, and now begone!
Wait on my call.
[Exit the Attendant, L. Amaryllis casts incense on the fire.
Ay, leap, thou flickering flame, avenge me well
On him who hath filled my breast with throbbing fire!
[She begins her incantation, pacing around the tripod.
The Incantation.
[She breaks her incantation, and remains standing over the tripod, the wax still in her hand.
Alas! my spells are vain. Upon myself
My charms take hold. My flesh burns, and my heart
Is melted in the furious fires of love,
And my hate burns: I love him, yet I know
That now he loves me not, he loves me not!
[She moves restlessly over the stage.
I am no stronger than the common tribe
Of women, whom I scorned when tyrant love
Moved them to piteous deeds—abandonments,
Abasements; and amazed find in myself
That hungering heart which makes us passion's fools!
[She recommences her incantation, pacing around the tripod.

[She leans against a pillar, L. C.
Short symphony. Then enter Alcander (R.) swooning, borne in by two Shepherds. They lay him upon the marble seat, then salute Amaryllis.
2nd Shep.
Hail, Amaryllis! Alcander bids thee hail!

[Exeunt Shepherds, R.
Amaryl.
What have I done?
[She stands gazing at Alcander.
I knew not what I did.
[She approaches him.
So soon struck down! Dead, or in a trance? Not dead,
Not surely dead. Alcander, speak to me!
O speak to me!

[He opens his eyes.
Alcan.
[Sternly.]
Look on thy work, enchantress.

Amaryl.
All amazed
To think it is my work. O how fare you?

Alcan.
In mercy take thy sorceries from my heart.

Amaryl.
I will unweave my spells.
[She tears the woollen cord from the bowl, and extinguishes the fire in the brazier.
Mother of charms,
Scatter upon the winds my baleful words,
Defeat their operation on this man,
Or turn upon myself their malison!
[Calling.]
Praxinoe! [Enter Attendant.]
Hence with this accursed thing.

[The Attendant removes the tripod.
Alcan.
[Recovering.]
For this swift succour, thanks! I feel the touch
Of the cool fingers of delicious ease.
But hast thou taken harm?

[He attempts to rise.
Amaryl.
Behold I stand
Unscathed!

Alcan.
[Sinking back.]
Then let me die, but die forgiven
Love's reckless wrong. To thy stern maidenhood
I bring stern expiation: here I lie,
My manhood's pride the strength of a sick babe,
And I, who loved the ardours of life's day
As eagles love the sun, untimely sent
To pace the pallid coasts of Acheron.

Amaryl.
Thou shalt not die. My frantic fury played
With rites unholy, like a petulant child,
When thou didst slight me with a feignèd love.

Alcan.
[Half rising.]
A feignèd love? I loved, and love thee still,
As all oaths that ever lover swore
Could never tell thee.

Amaryl.
Flatteries do me wrong,
I claim the simple courtesy of truth.
Didst thou not woo the laughing Thestylis,
My own false friend, with lover's gifts this night?

Alcan.
Thestylis? I wooed her but in pretty sport,
By swift suggestion of her prankish wit,
To move her amorous Daphnis, who stood by
In jealous ambush, to more jealousy.

Amaryl.
[Aside.]
Daphnis! I had forgot him. [Aloud.]
Oh, is this true?

Alcan.
Yea, by the soul of truth in thine own soul,
And in my heart, whose weak o'ermastered tides
Thou hast made ebb from the fair coasts of life,
As through thy hate I die for love of thee.

Amaryl.
Alas! I hate thee not. I strove to hate thee,
And impotently wrestled with some god
I would not know, and dared not name. But now
I would recall those proud insurgent waves
To triumph on the sunniest shores of joy.

Alcan.
Nay, I must die. There is no cordial now
Can raise me up, save one; so rare a thing
I may not have it, dare not ask—thy love.

Amaryl.
I have no pride to lie to thee, and say
I love thee not; no shame to say I love thee,
Since that is true. I know it now—I love thee!
And thus I prove the virtue of my love!

[She kisses him on the forehead. His strength returns.
Alcan.
Now let the nightingales burst into song,
The stars make sudden day in the clear heaven!
There is more potency in thy sweet lips
Than in a thousand charms. O not thy spells,
Thy incantations and wild sorceries
Were deadly to me, but thy merited hate!
Reach now thy hands, raise me up, draw me back
From the cold sunless regions of the dead.

[She extends her hands to him. He takes them and stands up.
Amaryl.
If thou hadst gone indeed that gloomy way
I would have followed thee, as faithfully
As love's clear planet, handmaid of the sun,
Follows her lord beneath the whelming waves.

Alcan.
[Coming forward, C.]
Now let me drink the odorous air of night,
Breathe the soft wind that murmurs from yon pines.
This is the breath of life; the winds of life
Flatter my breast with bliss, the sap of life
Sweeps revelling through my blood, and my strong heart
Laughs like a giant, with an uncouth joy,
To taste the infinite pleasures of this world.

Amaryl.
I am thy murderess; kill me!

[Casts herself at his feet.
Alcan.
[Raising her.]
Nay, I live
By thee, would raise thee to the measureless height
Of my proud worship, stoop and kiss thy feet;
Thy charms, more potent than Medea's drugs,
Have made my youth twice young.

Amaryl.
Alas! my arts
Were subtle treacheries against thy life.
I hold my own at ransom.

Alcan.
Give me thyself
In perfect free surrender. Come to me!

[She moves gravely towards him. He takes her in his arms.
Amaryl.
I think I have surrendered. I am come
To a new wondrous country: yet not new,
Familiar as a child's remembered home.
Have we not met before, and loved before,
Loved through long cycles of some golden age?
But can'st thou love me indeed? Say it once more.
How often have I laughed at lovers' vows,
Yet now, methinks, I could half weep to hear
Some foolish passionate oath of constancy
That lovers swear when they forswear themselves.

Alcan.
Possess me with such high and passionate thoughts
As now leap forth, teemed from conception's cell,
And make me thine, past power to be forsworn.
I love thee so I will not desecrate
Our love's eternal moment with vain breath,
And the mere profanation of an oath.

Amaryl.
Then swear not, only say—say what thou wilt;
But let me die when I am no more loved!

Alcan.
If the fine ecstasy of this rich night
Were centred all in one pulsating star
Of life, love, triumph, I could boast that now
I wear it in my breast. I am filled with thee
As winter's veins with philtres of the spring.

Amaryl.
And I am grown a woman in thine arms,
Where I have found my home. The mystery
Of my transfigured soul holds me with awe,
And strikes a silence through me, as of streams
Hushed by the might of the invading sea.

Alcan.
'Tis I who have grown a babbler, I who have won
The noblest woman won by headstrong man
Since Theseus clasped his buskined Amazon.
Greatness is in thy gift, fame in thy smile;
Oh, make me great, lay thy commands on me!
There must be battles for a man to fight
Beyond the deeds of Heracles, or all
That keeps the laurels green on Theseus' head.

Amaryl.
Can I inspire thee so? I did not dare
To dream the heroic fires of such a love
Could catch their flame from me; and I grow faint
In the amazement of so deep a joy.

Alcan.
Be thou perpetual priestess of that flame.
[He leads her to the marble seat. They sit.
Come, sit: and let the ecstatic nightingale
Speak from the heart of silence to our hearts.

Short symphony. Then enter Thestylis and Daphnis.
Daph.
So wonderful a night there has not been,
A night so entrancèd with the spirit of love,
Since in the silver silence of the woods
Pale Cynthia woke Endymion with a kiss.
And now, methinks, since that fond hour she keeps
Her tenderest benison for all lovers true.

Thes.
Ay, and to-night love hath changed bows with her,
Or slyly filled her quiver from his own.
Look, Daphnis, where our cruel Shepherdess
Belies her fame! Art thou not jealous now?

Daph.
Ay, Thestylis, of every coaxing wind
That whispers in thy hair, kisses thy cheek.
But thou shouldst here be jealous; for this man,
Thy last-won lover, looks another way.
Where are those kids, tribute of thy bright eyes,
He promised thee but now? Come, thou wert best
Content thyself with my wide-feeding flocks,
Shepherd their shepherd; or, in maiden spite,
Go live as lonely as yon maiden moon.

Thes.
A fair choice truly! Well, when through the gap
Goes one wise sheep the flock will follow sure.
Come, Daphnis, I must be content with thee.

Daph.
[Embracing her.]
Be our content a sea, so wide and deep,
That we shall ne'er sail o'er, but halcyon-like
Upon its bosom build our floating nest.

Thes.
'Tis a blithe night for the young archer god!
Four daintier quarries he hath never struck
Plump with his golden shaft. O liberty,
Dear maiden liberty, must I so soon
Forego thy sweets! And now for Amaryllis;
Haply she hath forgot her chiding mood.
[She approaches Amaryllis.
Mark, Amaryllis, what a noble friend
Thou hast in me, who freely pardon thee
Though thou hast broken all our friendship's vows,
And stolen my lover!

Amaryl.
Fair play, Thestylis,
For thou didst first steal mine.

Thes.
A fair exchange;
Or shall we change again? In sooth I care not,
So there be peace between us.

Amaryl.
[Kissing her.]
Peace and love!

Alcan.
Daphnis, I give thee joy.

Daph.
As deep a bliss
Be thine, and many days to taste that bliss.

Alcan.
[Taking Amaryllis by the hand and leading her forward.]
Well, I have found the woman that I sought,
Yet am not cured of love. Fair Thestylis,
Thine are the honours of this festal night,
And thou shalt claim thy guerdon from my flocks.

Daph.
I thank thee in her name, and for thy gift
Thou shalt not lack from me a nuptial song.

Thes.
Hail, conquering Eros, thou shalt be the lord
Of all our flocks and herds!

Amaryl.
And hearts and homes.

Enter Chorus of Youths and Maidens crowned with myrtle, and with branches of amaranth in their hands. They sing a Hymn to Love, and at the Epode crown the lovers with myrtle and amaranth.
Hymn to Love.
Strophe.
Epode.