University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

A vestibule.
Orooko, Sebi, and Arak.
Orooko.
Go, summon without preface or delay,
The honor'd elders of the tribes to meet.

Sebi.
They hold the magistracy of the town.

Orooko.
No matter, go. Tell them I would impart
Things of most high concernment to us all.
They were not wont in the old better time,
To wait for dues of ceremonious state.
[Exit Sebi.
Who is with Yamos? who is with the King?

Arak.
He is alone.

Orooko.
What you here, Arak! Arak?

Arak.
Ah me, Sir, what has chanced? (aside)
He is perplex'd,
His thoughts coil inward, and his eyes are fierce,
As the fell snake's when it infolds itself
To spring upon its victim.

Orooko.
Where is the stranger?

Arak.
Antonio?

Orooko.
Where has he fled?

Arak.
How fled?
I saw him scarce a hundred breathings since,
Enter the portal of the Queen's apartment.
[Exit Orooko.
Surely some hideous madness touches all,
For thoughts, and fears impossible, appal me,
And when I told him where Antonio was,
He shriek'd as if he had a serpent trod.

Exit.

SCENE II.

An apartment and Couch.—music without.
Yamos and Attendants.
Yamos.
Bid the musicians cease. Let them forbear.
The soft melodious sadness of their song
Awakens in me but unhappy thoughts.—
Methinks the ghosts of all my ancestors,
Hover around me, and in piteous silence,
Look on my grieved and melancholy mind.
O sure some dreadful woe unseen impends
That thus my heart feels cold as kneaded clay.
Send for Antonio to me.

I Attend.
He is here.

[Enter Antonio.]
Yamos.
Art thou too sad, my friend, pray thee draw near,
Sit here by me, I would converse awhile,
To learn why thus my anxious spirit pines,
And questions oft the use of all our labors?

Ant.
Such weary thoughts, sir, frequently arise,
When the exhausted spirit needs repose.
They are the dreams of reason, and molest,
Like the night visions, only while they last.

Yamos.
And shall I wake from this unhappiness;
Shall my lov'd Idda chearfully awake?
And take me back with those endearing arms
With which she press'd me to her virgin breast?
Alas, you sigh—there is no hope of that.
[Enter Orooko.]
How now, Orooko, why these looks of rage;
What new discov'ry in the town alarms?

Orooko.
Stranger, avaunt.

Yamos.
What change is this, Antonio?

Orooko.
He shall not stay, let him at once retire!

Yamos.
Treason, Guards, ho! Dost thou menace, old man?
What hast thou done, that thou dar'st thus insult
Our royal presence with this fierce demeanour.
Antonio, fear him not. I will protect thee.
Though mutiny and rash rebellion rise,
By his incitement. I am still thy friend.
You weep and tremble—weeps Orooko too?
Friends, why is this?

Orooko.
Let him retire. Retire.

[Exit Ant.
Yamos.
Now he is gone, what would you say to me?

Orooko.
The thunder's voice heard in the summer's calm,
Nor the great Spirit's when he heaves the woods,
In wilder billows than the roaring ocean,
Speaks no such horror, as I must unfold.

Yamos.
Orooko, tell me, is my Idda dead?

Orooko.
Curses descend on her. Let fury come,
And wide and numberless as all the leaves,
That the winds scatter when the forests fade,
Disperse the ashes of her guilty form.

Yamos.
Thou art not mad, Orooko? yet thou speak'st
More frantic ecstasy than the loose wrack,
Of scatter'd thought, in the disorder'd mind
Hath ever yet assum'd.

Orooko.
The Queen is false.

Yamos.
False, False? Repeat what thou hast said—the word.
My ears ring fearfully—repeat the word.—

Orooko.
False with Antonio,

Yamos.
Hoary liar, ha! (strikes him down.)


Orooko.
(on the ground.)
Gods of his fathers, take my thanks for this.
Now must the noble soul of Yamos feel,
By this dishonor he has done himself
In striking me, his own, his father's friend!
What shame and woe springs from Antonio's guile.

Yamos.
Th'infection works, in every joint I feel
The withering horror seizing on my strength.
It was delirium! and I heard it not.
No one did say to me my wife was false—
Antonio! O to what wicked thoughts
The idle fancy will betake itself!
While the musicians sang, I closed my eyes,
Strange fears oppress'd me. I would see Antonio,—
He came and he was sad. Orooko came—
Is that Orooko on the ground before me?

Orooko.
(rising.)
Distraction kindles in him, help, O help!—

Yamos.
Hush, hush, we will be calm, we will be calm.
(They sit down.)
Come, sit thee down—we will discourse of this—
And first I will relate my dream to thee—
Antonio—no, he is not.—O my heart,
It swells to thrice three hearts, and stops my breath.
Once I did think he fondly look'd at her,
And she responded with familiar smiles,
Such as no wife may blamelessly express.—
And when I chid her for't, that hate began,
Which no imploring love of mine could alter,
No tend'rest grief since that dire hour appease.

Orooko.
Did you observe their love?

Yamos.
What love? what love?
I but beheld a free unseemly glance.
What have you seen?

Orooko.
Alas, dear noble Yamos,
Such looks unchaste were never known before.

Yamos.
Ha! is it for that, you have so tortur'd me.
And for your worship and availless rites
Would tempt me thus to sacrifice my friend.
Away, old man—back to thy wilds again;
Provoke me not with guilty imputation,
To think as ill of thy respected self,
As thy fell bigotry would say of others.
What is this knowledge, that with painful throes
My mind would bring into the world of thought,
And on it, as a mother o'er her child,
All other things forsaking, fondly doat—
Suspicion! Suspicion! O forerunning shadow
Of coming woe—more hideous than the substance.
If this Antonio be the wretch you think;
If Idda be the victim of his guile;
What may ensue?—Nothing more ill than is!
And the good springing from Antonio's knowledge
Must still be good, let him be what he may.

Orooko.
How know you that?

Yamos.
I will endure no more;
If thus I listen to thy venomous tongue,
I shall believe the glorious sun himself
Black as eclipse—Away, away, and leave me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Another Apartment.
Idda and Mora.
Idda.
Find me Antonio; bring him to me here:
For old Orooko thinks what he should not,
And we must turn the current of his thoughts.—
Why do you stand? Go, bring Antonio to me.

Mora.
Forbear, I pray you—While Orooko's here,
Seek not that fatal man. O royal Idda,
Ere yet too late, if it be not too late,
Snatch your affections from this headlong stream;
It draws you swiftly to a deep perdition!

Idda.
I am not, Mora, to be told, your eyes
Betray the wishes of your throbbing heart
Towards Antonio. Pray thee, gentle maid,
Give me not reason to suspect thy truth,
By the great virtue which thy tongue affects.

Mora.
O I am conscious of my erring nature,
My mind contemning what my heart desires;
But surely, surely, it becomes not you
To blame a fault that I have still restrain'd!

Idda.
Obey my orders.

Mora.
Freely in all else.

Idda.
Do you refuse me then?—Ha! Arak here!
[Enter Arak.]
Why come you here, sir, with such looks of terror?

Arak.
Where is Antonio?

Idda.
How! He is not here.

Arak.
Orooko, by his old prerogatives,
Convenes the magistrates, and they assemble:
I would Antonio were prepared for this;
Such convocation bodes to him no good.

Mora.
Ah, royal Idda, do not doubt my faith.

Arak.
Is not Antonio here?

Idda.
What should he here?

Arak.
That were not fitting for me to inquire;
But if I saw him, and might speak to him,
Perhaps I could such signs of trouble tell,
That he might shun the danger they forewarn—
Stern thoughts have gain'd the solemn mastery
Of old Orooko's wonted gentleness.

Idda.
Go, seek Antonio then—Go, Mora, too:
Here I shall languish for your swift return.
[Exeunt Arak and Mora.
My heart shrinks in me, and I tremble all,
Like one that has pernicious berries ate,
And 'gins to feel the ill juice in her blood,
Clotting the pulses of the vital stream.

[Enter Antonio.]
Ant.
But for the woman's sympathetic lewdness
Stirring the vice in me that I had quell'd,
I might have left, in this new world, a name
To match the brightest of antiquity.

Idda.
Antonio!

Ant.
Ha! what would'st thou?

Idda.
Softly; hear me—

Ant.
No more, no more.

Idda.
Do you Orooko dread?

Ant.
We have together drank a fatal draught,
And now the poison burns straight on to death.

Idda.
Hear me, Antonio—

Ant.
Horror and Death
Have seiz'd upon me, and in folds of flame
The one envelopes my distracted soul,
While the cold other with his icy fang
Grasps me immoveably.

Idda.
Will you not answer?

Ant.
Well, what would you?

Idda.
Do you dread Orooko?

Ant.
I dread myself—O rather let me say
I have done that which I cannot undo,
And by the guilt made awful forfeiture
Of the high destiny that once was mine.
This having done, and from all honor driven,
I know not what extremity of guilt
My out-cast doom may draw me yet to do.

Idda.
Hush, hush; this fierce impassion'd rage repress—
Into my chamber, where we shall be safe.

Ant.
To hell at once!—O I already suffer
The torments of damnation in the thought
Of what I was, of what I might have been.

Idda.
We whirl in jeopardy; the tide of fate
May sweep us from the chance within our reach,
If we delay to catch.

Ant.
Then let us sink,
And time close over us as smooth and trackless
As the deep ocean o'er the bottom's sand.

Idda.
O it is true what our old warriors say;
The lofty mansion and the stately couch
Unnerve the body and impair the mind.
Thou hast not manhood in thee to endure
The test which our heroic youth were wont
To rise refulgent from—Adversity!
The worst that can ensue to both of us,
What is it but to die?

Ant.
The death of life,
The dagger, or the stake, appal not me.

Idda.
What then dismays you?

Ant.
Fame and honor lost.

Idda.
Were they not lost till old Orooko came?
Has his suspicion, which makes us unsafe,
Chang'd too the quality of our fond love?
Before this day you never own'd alarm;
But now when he menaces to destroy,
Behold, the memory of fame and honor
Comes like a ghost to frighten your repose.

Ant.
Yes, yes, from sleep—I am indeed awake!

Idda.
And being so, up and appear the man,
And show your brightening forehead to the storm.
The coward creatures are the prey of man;
And he who fears like them belies his form.
But we are open to intrusion here;
Into this chamber—Nay, but you shall come.

[Exeunt into an apartment that opens in the centre of the scene.
[Enter Yamos.]
Yamos.
I will not credit what Orooko thinks:
His mind has ever been adverse to all
Antonio's mighty purposes. Old age,
That makes experience wisdom, grows to folly,
And the good man may have outliv'd discretion.—
It is not, cannot be, that one so great,
So lofty and prospective in his virtue,
Should fall to such perdition. But my Idda!
O Heaven and Nature! if 'tis not disease
That hath the sweet love of her bosom chang'd—
Ah, who art thou, so ghastly and so grim,
With grasped dagger, and blanch'd quiv'ring lip,
That beckons me towards horror?—Revenge!
Hence from my soul, delirious suggestion.
Murder Antonio! What hideous guilt
Must in the issue of such treach'ry lie,
That my unhappy spirit should devise
Indemnity so terrible?—No, no:
They are not guilty, and my mind is cleft
From all propriety in thinking them.
O righteous Heaven! with some oblivious blessing,
Quench in my memory Orooko's venom,
And heal my heart to confidence again.—

(He goes to the door by which Antonio and Idda had retired, and on opening it starts back: Antonio and Idda come from within and fly off at one side, while Orooko and attendants enter from the other: after a pause Yamos comes forward in a state of stupefaction.)
Orooko.
O hapless Yamos, what unhallow'd vision
Enchants thine eyes to look that way so wild?—
Speak to me, Yamos, tell me what thou see'st?—

Yamos.
Nothing—they are not there—they were not there—
I saw them not—I thought but what did seem—
(to Orooko.)
Art thou not, wretch, some false bewildering devil,
Mocking my sight with good Orooko's form?
O thou hast bred with thy soul-tainting breath
Thoughts of such horrible and hungry crave,
That I must needs be wicked—It is true!
A sword, a sword!—Now well I know the cause
Why he enticed us to unbelt our swords:
He fear'd that in detection we might use them,
And so made passage for a safe escape.

Orooko.
Speak you, sir, of the stranger?

Yamos.
Of the fiend!
He came to me so piteous and forlorn,
That my weak heart could not but do him kindness.
He seem'd to me so wond'rous and so wise,
That my poor thoughts could not but do him homage.
O little thought I when religiously
He used to tell me of the luring wiles
With which the foe of God seduces man,
That he was him, and then betraying me.

Orooko.
Still you are free, though Idda be his victim.

Yamos.
O Idda, Idda! Rose of my delight!
The odious worm voluptuous with thy beauty,
Has turn'd my love to loathing—Damn her, damn her!

Orooko.
Does other proof than my suspicion move you?

Yamos.
O yes.

Orooko.
What!—who?

Yamos.
My eyes!

Orooko.
How, Yamos! where!

Yamos.
Earth, make me part of thy insensate mass;
Let me be kneaded by the heel to clay,
(throws himself down.)
Rather than bear the memory of that vision!

Orooko.
O thou renewing spirit of the air,
Whose genial power informs the sleeping spring
When to put forth her young hands to the ray,
Revive to hope the withering soul of Yamos.