University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—THE TEMPLE OF APOLLO, as before.
The veil raised, King Gorbudoc kneeling at the altar, Videna and Dunwarro, the Priest in the back-ground.
Videna.
Hadst thou but heeded my soliciting—

King
(rising).
It had been to recall my kingly word.

Videna.
It had been thus; and may not Kings repent?

King.
Alas, no more than gods: and they are gods,
Yet human; wise, but not all wise, and err
Like other mortal seed. Who reign, should be
Gods altogether, not in part. O for
The measure of their excellence. But earth
Has never yet beheld a perfect King.

Dunwarro.
Hath Heaven?

King.
'Tis right. Nought but old Fate is pure,
And gods and men and nature bow to it,
The ineffable, whose will is never known
Till acted. Haply, some forgotten charm
Attached to that wrecked gold, concerning which
Thus destiny becomes oracular.
May we not pluck it from the altar here,
And cast it to the waves wherefrom it came?

Priest.
'Tis holy now, and hath, thou sawst, been taken
Into the gracious keeping of the god,
Who, as I deem, for thee preserves it so
Till this great strife shall cease.

Videna.
He speaketh well,
My royal Lord. This priest hath spoken well.
For Fate on such things hangs not its high will,
But on man's own; therewith it worketh what
It works, and therefore holds us liable
For whatsoe'er results; hence, blame we not
Calamity, but proper indiscretion.

King.
A bitter physic givest thou to me,
Videna.

Videna.
O my Lord; I speak the truth.

Dunwarro.
Lady, it may be better than we think.
For it appears Philander's complete news,
As told by Dordan, has this further scope—
That, hard upon his heels, a herald came,
Haply with words of peace, to compromise
The differences at issue. Well it were
Your majesties should now advantage ye
Of this same holy place wherein ye are,
For your protection. War even would not venture
To violate this sanctuary; and here
The herald would be shielded in his duty
No less by this pure roof than his good office.

Priest.
'Tis wisely counselled. There may ye repose,
And of the type and diadem of power
Keep sacred guard yourselves.
[Priest takes the crown from the altar and places it on Gorbudoc's head, who kneels.]
Within, there is
A chamber that is fitting.

King.
Lead. We follow.

[Exeunt.
Dunwarro
(manet).
There comes, I see, Marcella with the herald.

Enter Marcella followed by Porreo, disguised as a herald.
Porreo.
May I depend upon thy faith? This garb—
Will it prevail to save a friend of Porreo?

Marcella.
The herald still is sacred; and this place,
My father's presence, too—

Dunwarro.
I pledge my word
That thou art safe, though thou wert Porreo's self.

Porreo.
Though I were Porreo's self?

Marcella.
I know thy voice.

Porreo.
Then know my countenance. See, at thy feet
Thy lover kneels. He comes to claim the heart
Erewhile was his.

Marcella.
Ere he conceived ambition.

Porreo.
Ambition—I confess I have ambition.
I pant to see Marcella wear the crown
Her beauty merits; such as well befits
The daughter of Dunwarro.

Dunwarro.
Tempt not me,
Young man, with such suggestions.

Porreo.
Why, I thought
Thou wert a statesman.

Dunwarro.
Thou hast said it, boy.
A statesman, who is worthy of the name,
Is one whose heart is as the seat of truth;
Whose mind is as the sacred house of law;
Whose will the chamber of all equity.
The graces that in other men are single,
In him are but integers of his virtue;
Which is a thing so perfect, so complete,
He has no other interest but his country's.
Thy wild desire would wound her womb with hoof
Of battle-steed; and with the scythèd car
Would mow, like rankling grass, her patriots down,
And make a desolation of her fields.
He is no statesman who could help thy cause,
Though its success might crown his daughter Queen
Of entire Britain on both sides the Humber.
Cursed would she be in such a King as thou,
Who needest such a statesman as the base
Alone esteem—a selfish tool of wrong.

Porreo.
Are thus my proffers flouted? Rail ye thus
As at a traitor? Why? Because enforced
To claim the maiden stolen from my heart.

Dunwarro.
By whom?

Porreo.
By Ferrex.

Dunwarro.
Treacherous pretext
For this unnatural strife. Most vain pretence.
Seal but thy peace with thy too generous brother—
She is thy wife, as she was thy betrothed.
Marcella, go, discover princely Ferrex,
And, with such influence as in thee commands him,
Conduct him hither.

[Exit Marcella.
Porreo.
Wouldst thou, sir, betray me
Into the power of my enemy?

Dunwarro.
Thy enemy? Thy brother. Fear thou not
His honour, as I answer it with mine.

Porreo.
Thine? his? And by what magic charmst thou him?
The spell of her sweet looks? And shall I bear
My rival ushered by the maid I love?
Why—look I like an idiot, that thou deemst
I can be cozened with a trick so gross?

Dunwarro.
Have patience.

Enter Videna.
Videna.
Whence this noise? What man is he?

Porreo.
Thy son.

Videna.
Ha!—But be hushed. Thy father sleeps.
His sorrows have in slumber found repose
Within yon chamber. Do not waken him;
Unless, as thou dost wear the herald's garb,
Thou bearst his peaceful message.

Porreo.
O, my mother,
Why have I not in thy capacious heart
That equal share of love a son may claim?
Why to my brother art thou so profuse,
Supplying him with comfort from the spring,
And scarcely leavest a narrow rill for me
To drink at, though consumed with mortal thirst?

Videna.
I am not now in mood to brook reproaches;
Therefore, reproach me not. I am thy mother;
And with a mother's fondness cherished thee,
An infant at my breast; unwillingly
Was reft of thy dear presence, and of thee
Sweet memories in thine absence still conceived;
Nor with less warmth my heart expanded then,
When, in thy manhood, suddenly these eyes
Beheld thee well-accomplished in all graces,
Beauty of person, eloquence of lip,
Demeanour bold, and royal heroism—
What hast thou lost to passion, lust of power?
What glory, passing that of earthly kings,
What riches, all the treasures of the world.

Porreo.
Mother, I may not understand, perchance,
The fashion of your court; yet have I learned
Something—since nature taught me in this frame
There beat a heart as haughty as my brother's,
A wit as able, and a soul as brave.
I read no law of inequality,
That told me I was subject, he was King.

Videna.
Poor is the spirit that's not rich enough
To fancy virtue higher than its own—
'Tis poorer than the brute that worships man.

Porreo.
Because the man of higher order is—
Brute unto brute is equal—man to man.
Less than a god shall not be King to me.

Videna.
Resign thou, then, the crown thou hast re-received,
That thou be not a King to other men.

Porreo.
Behold my answer. See, my rival, there,
Led by my mistress.
Enter Marcella and Ferrex.
Sir, well met. But first,
Renounce that hand—'tis mine.

Ferrex.
Not till withdrawn.
Had it not willingly been placed in this,
It had not wooed me hither.

Porreo.
Shame should scorch it,
If that unasked its unreluctant palm
Dared cope with thine, reluctant.

Marcella.
Wherefore, Porreo,
Should it be shamed, by all fair means, to teach
Thy brother's hand, raised 'gainst thee by thyself,
Once more the way of peace?

Porreo.
I want not peace.
War only can expect to reconcile
The enmities that were engenderèd
Of the same mother.

Videna.
Here she is. Repeat
Again that impious calumny. Thou liar!
War reconciles not, but destroys,—'tis death.
But it was life I gave to both of you—
Life from the fount of love.

Porreo
(leaping on Ferrex, and seizing him by the throat).
Art thou not, too,
A liar? Though thou speakst not with thy tongue,
Speaks not thine heart as mine?

Ferrex.
Unhand me, Porreo.

Porreo.
Not I.

Videna.
Unhand him, heathen (seizes Porreo).


Enter the King.
King.
What, again!
Once I beheld thy weapon at his heart,
And (fool) believed thee honest. Now, once more,
Thy violent hands are on thy brother thus.
I dreamt of this—I had a dream of this—
While slumbering on the couch in yonder chamber;
And thou art here even as I dreamed. Thy brow,
It has a name of horror written on it.
On thy allegiance, quit thy murtherous hold.

Videna
(rending him away).
As well cope with the she-wolf as with me.
More than a woman's temper wakens here,
More than a woman's strength.

Marcella.
Vehement Porreo,
If thou hast loved me ever, hear me now
Implore thee for thy good. Be placable.
Calm thy resentment; seek for pardon.

Porreo.
Pardon?
Here, Ferrex; take the serpent from my feet.
—But, as thou venturest nigh to touch her only,
Beware lest vengeance grasp not both, and stab,
Stab one heart through the other.

Dunwarro.
It shall not need—
I take her from thy person.

Porreo.
What art thou?

Dunwarro.
Her father.

Porreo.
What is that? My parents, sir,
Have Madness for their son!

[Exeunt Dunwarro and Marcella.
King.
And what have ye,
Sons, for your father?—Whom shall I acquit
Of what has made his head grow bald with folly,
Which wisdom should have silvered?—Both of ye,
O disobedient and rebellious men,
Are children of Astonishment and Terror.
Ye are justly punished both. Ah, Ferrex, Ferrex,
Who wert the first to violate thy duty,
Thou hast been justly paid—by him, whom thou
Preferredst to thy father.

Ferrex.
My dread sire,
Thus humbly on my knees, I pray thee, hear
A plea so righteous that, before Apollo,
I give it venturous breath. Who knoweth not
What dreams, though waking, had beguiled my youth
With glorious shades of virtue, unattained
By mortal man. I grant by Heaven, yet still
I was deceived; and recompense is none
For generous purpose. Fair the vision is,
But false.

King.
No, son. But thou wert faithless—feared
To try that to the end, which will be tried
Full oft till death; and what it here denies
There treasures for us—in the glad hereafter.
Think.—Canst thou vouch thy motive was so pure,
As righteously might challenge instant guerdon?

Porreo.
No, 'twas, be sure, as foul as 'twas unfilial.

Ferrex.
Thou seizedst once on me—Now, false ingrate,
Defend thyself.

[Draws—Porreo also draws, but the King throws himself between them.]
Porreo.
Come forth, my trusty sword,
My hand shall pledge thy hilt. Marcella be
The bride of Ferrex, if Marcella will.
But Porreo shall wed thee. Come forth, my bride
Of steel, thou bright and beautiful. I've loved
Thy flashing smile full long, my own betrothed,
The chosen of my heart. Impatient thou,
Thy plighted love were wedded? There, pale maid,
But, anon, radiant blushes glow on thee—
Thou art panting, now, for glory. Our love-bower,
All roses, blooms. Sweet, thou'rt unveil'd. I burn,
In gazing on thy naked loveliness,
Whose dower is blood.

King.
Thy father's! Sheathe your swords
Here in your father's heart. Sirs, ye wound not
Yourselves so much as me, who gave you life—
Ye clench at your CREATOR your foul fists,
And smite the image of the god, religion
Commands ye worship. Not a blow ye aim,
But makes Apollo shudder with remorse;
And his fine sympathy, dwelling in me,
With agonistic pains of gory sweat,
Threatens my dissolution. Ye care not,
Though all the angry words, ye cast together,
Be pointed arrows in your parents' hearts—
Though every scowl, ye bend on one another,
Swell as a black cloud there, and burst in thunder
Within the last recesses of their souls.
Ye care not, though your mother, where she stands,
Stiffen to marble, and grow speechless with
Passion too big for utterance. Shame, oh, shame,
I muse that it should burn not through your cheeks,
Calcine the lashes of your eyes, and molten
Into twin jelly globes those orbs themselves,
Swimming in fire, consuming and dissolving,—
Nay, that, like liquid fire within the blood,
It melt not through the marrow and the flesh
That's in and on the bones, with bones and all.
Sure, shame should thus reveal himself in you,
A god, like Jove, when arrogant Semele
Perished for her presumption. What's the spell
That fascinates my vision? I'll not gaze
On you to see your blasting. Never more
Would I fain look on either.

[Exit.
Porreo.
Brother, I go. We meet again in battle.

Ferrex.
I fear not thee—thy prowess nor thy skill.

[Exeunt at opposite sides.
Videna.
Am I indeed a she-wolf, and but guelved
When these were born? Ferocious impulses
Speak to me from within, and horrible
Suggestions make my heart a charnel-cave,
Where creatures loving carnage meet to revel.

Re-enter the King.
King.
Gone? Have they gone?

Videna
(solemnly).
They have—worse foes than when
They met.

King.
Can I help that, thou speakest thus
With emphasis?

Videna.
With emphasis?

King
(angrily).
Yes—echo;
With intonation, as if, from the deep,
Thou calledst, with a charm, the fiends of strife.
Why, with that dim upbraiding look, gaze on me,
Videna?

Videna.
Gaze on thee? Wherefore art angry?
And why with me? And what avails it here?
For am I not accursèd in my children?
And what can thy wrath add to that affliction,
Or Heaven's own plagues themselves? Come—rail and rave,
That it may turn the current of my soul
Into less bitter channel. Try it now—
And own how vain thy age's craftiness (smiling hysterically).


King.
Thou laughest at me, even thou, Videna.
'Tis true, I am thy elder; but not much—
Some few years;—nor am I, like Clotyn, old
To a miracle:—nay, am still, or was, a day
Or two ago, a vigorous man; who, but
For love of his two sons, might still have held,
For many years to come, with no slack hand,
The sceptre; and may yet this golden crown
Wear as my own. Videna, nay, Videna,
I'm not so old, that thou shouldst laugh at me
For a despisèd driveller.

Videna.
Ha, ha, ha! (laughing hysterically.)


King.
O, agony, what force is on thee now?
Pray, Jove, thou craze not.

Videna.
Ha, ha, ha!

King.
Videna,
Weep—weep; laugh not, Videna.

Videna.
Ha, ha, ha! (she falls—King stands petrified with pity and terror.)


[Scene closes.