 | Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) |  |
152
HOW A QUEEN LOVED.
I.
(The Queen and Blondival.)THE QUEEN.
'Tis dear to think that in this isle I rule
The people's loyalty should steadfast bide
As yonder heaven that curves one cloudless blue
Above the crags and myrtles of my shores.
BLONDIVAL.
They love you for your father's martial name;
They love you for your grandsire's arts of peace;
They love you—Shall I count the ancestries,
King, queen, prince, duke, that make them love you so?
THE QUEEN.
Is that then all?
BLONDIVAL.
Nay, since they worship you
For your immaculate self.
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Immaculate?
Those words ring mockery, husband. Pray recall
How I had sworn to wed no man, but stay
Sovereign yet virgin, ere we met and loved.
BLONDIVAL
(kissing her hand).
Your people are dumbly ware such love as ours
May scale the stars, nor keep one touch of earth.
THE QUEEN.
Are they so wise, my people?
BLONDIVAL.
Ay, Majesty,
With you for sweet instructress!
THE QUEEN.
Nay, my lord,
Humility and not majesty for thee!
Have I not given thee all, my Blondival?
Has not my soul to thine been bee to flower?
Oh, there are times when I turn sick for loss
Of passionate prodigalities my love
Would heap on thy dear life! This Blondival
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Are trivial to the scope of his true meed.
What fresh choice dainty on what rare golden dish
May I, his eager handmaid, serve him next?
How thwart satiety with new zest and tang
Of delicate savor? Would that I might mix
Taste, music, perfume, color, charm of touch
Into one ecstacy of sense for him!
Yet no; I am powerless to delight him more;
I can but stand his vassal, though his queen.
BLONDIVAL.
One thing thou couldst give yet thou wilt not give!
THE QUEEN.
Oh, Blondival! Again that piteous plaint!
BLONDIVAL.
Piteous, and yet unpitied! Were thy love
The self-surrender thou assertest it,
Thou couldst not overbrow me day by day.
THE QUEEN.
I overbrow thee! I that am thy slave!
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Splendid inded a servitude like thine!
Humbly thou cringest that with nod of head
Couldst fling me seaward from thy steepest cliffs!
THE QUEEN.
My royal consort!
BLONDIVAL.
Phrase that emptier sounds
Than scream of gull or crackle of autumn leaf!
I royal consort, whom thy furthest kin
Waive and precede at every public pomp!
Why, even the common oaf that plows and plants,
Lord of his own hearth, my superior looms.
Keep thou thy crown; give me thy woman's robes,
Don these of manlier make; and so attired,
Prove me thy “royal consort” in good faith!
SYLVIA
(singing outside, with lute).
O the ways of love, O the ways of love,
They are stern, yet soft as dew!
O the days of love, O the days of love,
They are light, yet darkness too!
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(Less light than darkness, bird-throat, as I live!)
Look, Blondival, I have given thee all save this
Obvious co-rulership; yet such void boon
Still dost thou crave, though barriers built by law,
As oft I have told thee, crowd upon thy wish.
BLONDIVAL.
Barriers the state has wrought.
THE QUEEN.
Hence all their might.
BLONDIVAL.
The state is thou.
THE QUEEN.
Three centuries ere I breathed,
Our canons barred the sovereign of this isle,
Woman or man, from vesting in a mate,
Though even of kingly blood, equality.
BLONDIVAL.
Bad governance grows brittle enough to break
After three centuries have aged it so.
Snap such mere rottenness by one bold wrench
Of the wrist, and stamp it to oblivious dust.
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If thou, dear love, shouldst bid me die for thee
In testimony of passion, I believe
All nature, from her star of utmost bourne
To her least meadow-flower, did I rebel,
Would seem to taunt and pierce me with rebuke.
Yet this entreaty of thine doth none the less
Break futile on that faith heredity
Hath seared and melted into mind and soul.
My life I am free to give, but not my throne,
Bastioned and hedged with sanctity of trust.
BLONDIVAL.
So be it. I shall not plead with thee again,
But strive to make the husband in me chime
Harmonious with the lacquey!
THE QUEEN.
Blondival!
I thought thy love would wiselier school itself
To patience with my one dissentient mood.
But mark: for thee, so worshipfully held,
I waver in compromise, and grant this grace:
Till three moons hence thou rulest in my stead,
From sole to finger-nail a regnant king.
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Through just that term of days, which once being fled,
Again thou shalt become Duke Blondival,
My king, yet not my nation's. Dost consent?
BLONDIVAL.
Regent for three months...
THE QUEEN.
Nay, king absolute,
With me for subject. Here's my royal hand.
Ere fall of sun the isle shall ring with it,
And he that dares deny King Blondival
May bow in heartier homage to cold steel.
BLONDIVAL.
I do consent. (Three months of reinless power!
Oh, Sylvia, how I long to tell it thee!)
SYLVIA
(entering, abashed).
The Queen ... Duke Blondival?..
THE QUEEN.
Nay, Sylvia mine,
History has altered since we saw thee last.
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Than thou, with that fine glory of gold silk hair.
And here's our King. Come, do him reverence.
Kiss thou his hand first; I will follow thee.
II.
(Blondival and Sylvia.)BLONDIVAL.
She keeps her word. The people adore her so
They bear even this magnificent caprice
As though 'twere some slight change of mode at court,
Gaudier insignia, deeper bend of head,
The delicate heightening of a shoe-heel—Pah!
I curse her when I think what sway she keeps.
SYLVIA.
Hush! These dim faces on the tapestries
Look as though listening when your speech flows thus.
Oh, God! a few weeks gone, and I do think
It would have turned my blood ice had I heard
The Queen's name used except obeisantly!
BLONDIVAL.
There is no Queen. She hath been dead two months;
Would Heaven one more month raised her not to life!
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How can you hate her when she loves you so?
BLONDIVAL.
I do not hate her, Sylvia, yet she bars
My reach from two dear purposes—thyself
As queen, her throne to reign on at thy side.
SYLVIA.
My spirit was not shaped for regal shows;
I have the violet's meekness in my blood.
Perchance 'tis therefore that with dark bold brow
And will imperious thou hast so enthralled
This frailty and softness born thine opposite.
BLONDIVAL.
Oh, Sylvia, men with turbid souls like mine,
Vexed by ambition, feverish for new gains,
Love just these gentler lives that gleam in calm
Below the fret and tumult of their own.
The gaunt crag somewhere throws its blot of shade,
And oft a pastoral meadow harbors it.
Yet do not dream, sweet girl, my love shall gloom
Thy future; glorious, rather, may it wrap
The destiny it fain would clasp and mould.
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His grip on power well-clutched in fingers firm.
Kiss me.
SYLVIA.
Thy kiss breeds terror yet delight.
BLONDIVAL.
Terror will fade from it; delight, please fate,
Shall linger till we two stand crowned and throned.
Nay, do not start and tremble. I am strong.
Deep is the tide I swim, and deeper yet
'Twill wax ere shallower; yet I'll breast its rush
And bear thee with me in these buffeting arms!
(The Queen enters, discovering them.)
THE QUEEN.
Nay, wherefore let those arms untwine themselves?
Anguish hath lost its novelty of pang;
Days ere to-day I knew thee what thou art.
(Exit Sylvia.)
Poor girl! I do not hate her, though I might.
Her sensitive spirit should not bruise its wings
Thus piteously in thy harsh copse of thorns.
Nor do I blame her; 'twere as well to blame
The delicate bird-breast, not the shaft it sheathes.
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His hand that led you where those draperies fall,
Was Malmondel's, who hath been my bitter foe
Since you, his cousin, wed me.
THE QUEEN.
Malmondel
Told nothing. I had waited. Eavesdropper
Neither I was nor would be, though folk said
One might but lift an eyelid to discern
Thee and thy paramour commingled thus.
No, Blondival, the spy that spied on thee
Was woman's misery, woman's hate of guile.
All is so different, now .. I scarce can phrase
How wrath is dashed subservient unto grief.
This was your love—the love that bought a throne!
BLONDIVAL.
A three months' throne. Fine recompense indeed!
THE QUEEN.
For what? The proof that thou art grossly false?
BLONDIVAL.
You spoke of wrath. Tempt not mine. 'Tis a king's.
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False, false .. immeasurably false! You dare
Flaunt in my face this kingship I have wrought?
BLONDIVAL.
Yes; from the height thyself did build I dare
Look veto, autocracy. Recall thine oath.
THE QUEEN.
Recall it? Canst thou know the sacredness
It meant and means, O traitorous profligate?
BLONDIVAL.
Come, since I am king at thy decree, forbear,
Lest I shall turn against thee thine own gift.
THE QUEEN.
There is no loathsome act of infamy
I should expect not now from thy base heart.
It is my shame that I should love thee still,
'Tis even a sort of horror to myself.
A girl, they taught me that no fault of man
Rated more meanly than ingratitude.
I did not dream that love could live at all
When scorn became its mate and counsellor.
Now do I see the terrible hardihood
Of love, which flowers in air grown taint and mirk.
164
(in wrath).
These two short royal months of mine have bred
Intolerance for such flame of rude revolt.
Bethink you, madam, that your palace-walls
Hold chambers where the axe may dint the block,
Live necks being cleft between them. Did I choose,
I could this day do some such deed as those
Emperors of Rome's rich dying grandeurs did.
Half am I willed so through mere sight of thee,
In thy pale accusation and contempt.
THE QUEEN.
I see; this power I gave hath made thee drunk.
Then, too, thou wouldst usurp the isle and set
Sylvia beside thee as new spouse. For years
None dreamed how Nero hid that devil in him.
I dreamed it not of thee; else had I shrunk
From squandering thus my kingdom. Still, the oath
I swore thee stays inviolate. More than this,
The imperishable love I bear thee yet
Makes me desire to probe in utmost way
Thy capability of dark unfaith.
BLONDIVAL.
Rightly thou sayst I am grown drunk with power.
Moreover, in harsh truth, I do avow
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Into thine ear was falsehood. Void thy throne,
And leave me, with what statecraft I can wield,
To play upon thy people's whims and greeds.
Fare from the isle. We have spoke of Rome. Perhaps
'Twill grant, if deftly bribed, our clear divorce.
These are brute blows I am dealing; such were best;
I sicken of artifice; the man I was
Henceforth shall sink beside me like a cloak
Tossed from the shoulders; he that actually
I am shall flare defiant and shameless forth.
THE QUEEN.
Monster! And I have loved thee, and still love!
BLONDIVAL.
Put then that stubborn love to test, and smooth
My path toward kingly permanence.
THE QUEEN.
Not so.
To loan my kingdom has been folly enough;
I will not hurl it into ruin. If death
Take me at thy decree, let Malmondel
Succeed me, avenge me, strike thee from thy prey.
166
Than I have done!
BLONDIVAL.
If he doth reign at all,
This Malmondel I hate as I hate thee!
THE QUEEN.
Thou canst not hate me, Blondival. I stand
Between thyself and thy base-hungering hope;
Thy sin stares large and hideous; yet I say
It is not possible thou hatest me.
BLONDIVAL.
Some stealthy scheme lurks here to trap me tight.
Yet think not thou shalt win by devious wiles.
Never in all earth's annals hath it chanced
That mortal woman could prove meek as thou,
Save guile crouched tiger-wise below her looks.
And yet, whate'er the plot thou hatchest, know
My influence with the soldiery hath waxed
Already great; I shall die hard, be sure.
THE QUEEN.
Thou shalt not need to die through choice of mine.
BLONDIVAL.
So then thou art loath to foil and raze me quite?
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Yes; but thou aimest to destroy thyself.
BLONDIVAL.
By heaven, I aim to do no such wild thing.
But thou wilt seek to thwart this lust I show
For individual empire? Answer plain.
THE QUEEN.
The words that late I spoke unaltering bide.
Thou hast heard them. Read their portent as thou choose.
BLONDIVAL.
Woman, what art thou?
THE QUEEN.
Once I was thy queen.
I am now thy conscience. King, beware of me!
BLONDIVAL.
King! 'Tis a syllable that fires my soul!
I'll tell thee how I fear thy cautionings.
The guards are yonder. See, I summon them.
(Guards enter.)
This woman dies to-morrow. Escort her hence.
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(to guards, as they stand aghast).
Your duty! Dare you flout the King's command?
(She goes out with the guards.)
BLONDIVAL.
I shall not be the first who strove to grasp
A crown by wading through its wearer's blood.
III.
(A prison-chamber in the palace. A headsman, beside block, with axe. The Queen appears, with guards. She signals to the headsman, who turns away.)THE QUEEN.
What? You refuse obedience to your king?
(She kneels before the block.)
A GUARD.
Sure, 'tis some fearful jest, your majesty.
THE QUEEN
(still kneeling).
The King hath ordered. Bid the headsman act.
(Loud murmurs are heard outside.)
What sounds are those?
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The people in angry throngs
Would break impetuous through the palace gates.
They have learned of danger threatening their loved Queen,
And rush—
THE QUEEN.
Quick, headsman! To thy darksome task!
Thou wilt not? Nay, 'tis treason if thou pause.
(Crashing noises. The Queen rises again.)
The people are streaming through the courtyard, now?
They have burst the gates?
GUARD
(looking through window at back).
'Tis true, your majesty.
And now Duke Blondival—
THE QUEEN.
You mean the King!
GUARD.
—Hath met them. He would fain command their heed.
His face is pale; his eyes dart fire. They note
His desperate bearing and before him troop.
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That thou art dead from sudden malady,
That he will reign far worthier in thy place...
THE QUEEN.
What more .. what more?
GUARD.
The people are wild with wrath.
They shout “assassin” from their myriad throats.
He towers engirt with soldiery, but these
Look doubtful in allegiance. .. Now they join
The multitude, and fling their arms away.
THE QUEEN.
And he? And he?
GUARD.
'Tis horrible past words!
Believing him thy murderer, they have torn
The Duke in pieces; bloody and dripping, glare
His fragments; never men so bore themselves
Like ravening beasts until this riot hour.
VOICES
OUTSIDE.
Vengence! Our dear dead Queen for vengeance calls!
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Hark how they love thee! Shall I shout to them
That thou art saved?
THE QUEEN.
That I am saved? From what?
GUARD.
Why, death at that fiend's hands.
THE QUEEN
(drawing forth dagger).
I loved that fiend!
Go, tell Prince Malmondel that he is King.
(She falls dead.)
| Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) | |