University of Virginia Library

The Fourth of August

A Masque

[The Scene discloses a garden at dawn, with Sun-fays, Shadow-elves, and Spirits of the Flowers sleeping under a twilight sky and pale stars. The east lightens and the stars fade.
Enter Aurora with her train: she goes about the garden and wakes the Fays, Elves, and Spirits, who dance and sing]

SONG OF THE SHADOW-ELVES

[As they sing Aurora passes on and disappears.]
[Enter a Mortal Youth, delicately dressed: he stretches himself on a green bank languidly, and muses.]
How I love life! how fair and full it glides
In this dear land, where age-long peace abides!
This land of Nature's finest fashioning,
Where every month brings forth some lovely thing:
Where Spring goes like her streams, from March to June,
Dancing and glittering to the breeze's tune;
And Summer, like the rose in sunset skies,
From splendour into splendour softly dies;
Where Autumn, while she sings her harvest home,
Deep in her bosom hides the birth to come,
And Winter dreams, when the long nights are cold,
A dream of snowdrops and the bleating fold.
Ah! how I love it!—most of all the year
This perfect month when Summer's end is near.
For now July has set, and August dawns,
A stillness broods upon the yellowing lawns,
Now senses all are by enchantment laid
In golden sleep beneath a green-gold shade,
Until the hour when twilight's tender gloom
Is starred with flowers of magic faint perfume.
Now passions are forgot, now memory wakes
And out of old delight new vision makes,
While Time moves only where the rose-leaves fall,
And Death's a shade that never moves at all.
[He muses on in silence.]

SONG OF THE FLOWER-SPIRITS

[Enter a Veiled Figure, who stands over against the drowsing Youth and speaks.]
[The Veiled Figure remains standing at the back of the scene.]
[The faint booming of a gun is heard: the Youth stirs and speaks again to himself.]
[The booming is heard again, louder.]
[He sinks back and sleeps again.]

SONG OF THE SUN-FAYS

Here in your garden green and fair
Soft you may sleep and know not care:
Sleep in your Paradise under the sky
And we will sing your lullaby.
Sunlit above you leaves are cool,
Sunlit beside you gleams the pool,
Sunlit and slumberous Summer goes by
And we will sing your lullaby.
[They sink down upon the grass: the stillness of the garden becomes one with the Youth's dream.
Enter, as in a vision of that dream, a Mother and her two Boys: the Boys see the Fays and run towards them, but are stayed by a sudden throb of guns.
Enter from behind the Veiled Figure a Boy with a Drum: he marches up to the two Mortal Children, touches them on the breast and signs to them to follow him. The Mother darts forward and lays her arms around them, speaking to the Boy with the Drum, in great alarm.]
Mother.
Why do you call them?

Boy.
They must come with me.

Mother.
Is it for life or death?

Boy.
I cannot tell:
I never heard of Death.

Mother.
Who bade you call them?
Boy. A woman with a veil—she stands there waiting.
Mother. I see her now—her veil is close as night,
But her face shines beneath it, like the fire
Of the first star that mounts his guard in heaven.
I see her lifted hand, I hear her voice
Like thunder rolling among distant hills,
Instant, tremendous, irresistible,
Soul-shaking, world-destroying—O my children!—
The end of our sweet life—the end is come!

[She bows her head over the Children, clasping them tightly. A funeral march is heard: the Boy beats his drum to it and turns to go: the mother listens in agony, still holding back her children. The funeral march changes to a high triumphant movement: she rises, and after a moment opens her arms. The Children kiss her and march joyfully away: she lifts her head with the same proud gesture as theirs, and follows them slowly and at a distance.]
Mother.
Farewell, my sons! The world is changed for me:
But this too you have done—your joy has fanned
My smouldering altar-fires, your pride has burned
To flame and fragrance all my balm of earth—
Child memories, high-built hopes, comfort of love,
Yea! even the touch, the sight and hearing of you—
All's lost, all's won: the gift is perfected!

[She goes out.]
[The Youth starts up and speaks.]
[He marches away proudly, to the same music.]
[The Fays dance again silently: the sun sets, and they sink to sleep. The Veiled Figure moves forward again, and stands motionless where the Youth had lain dreaming. The Curtain falls.]