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 | The unpublished plays of Thomas Holley Chivers |  |
Scene I
(The Bower of Bliss. Count Julian is discovered lying on a mosscovered rock asleep. Enter Endea who gazes on him with delightful astonishment.)Endea
Is this some Angel God has sent to me
From Heaven to recompense me for my love,
And for the Orphan-life that I have lived?
For surely he was never born on earth!
Such beauty never walked this world before!
I feel entranced—rapt with delight—to see
Such heavenly beauty lying here on earth,
The very soul that I have seen in dreams,
Smiling upon me from the Bowers of Heaven—
Whom I have called my husband in my sleep!
(She approaches him, kneels down by him, combs back his locks with her fingers, when he wakes.)
Count Julian
(taking her hand)
Why, who is this, so beautiful, I pray,
Whom I now grasp so fondly by the hand?
I thought it was Celuta by my side!
37
To minister to my delight? or some
Fair Naiad, Nymph, or Dian of this Isle,
Sent here in absence of Celuta's face?
For surely there was never one more fair,
Or beautiful than thou art now! A bright
New Moon about the Folding Story of Love
Bright as that glorious Goddess of pure day, its joy,
Fresh from the Fauna upon the Cyprian Isle!
So that my soul could love you as it does
Celuta, were Celuta not my soul!
Tell me, fair Angel! what is thy sweet name?
Endea
(with tender emotion)
My name is Endea—Orphan of the House
Of old Lamorah, who is called my sire.
My real father's name was Simighan—
A bold Castillian from the Land of Spain,
Who married old Lamorah's sister—slain
By Outalissa, son of Miscou, Chief
In Cuscovilla's Valley near the sea,
Where rolls the mighty river of Mobile.
The Angels called him Lopez—but the name
My mother called him by, was Simighan.
My mother died to see my father die!
38
Count Julian
Nay, do not weep! Why do you weep, my love?
I will be father, mother, friend to you,
And you shall never want for any thing!
Come, dry those dove-like eyes! You must not weep!
Though Beauty looks most beautiful in tears!
Endea
Alas! how can you be my husband here,
And love Celuta so? My heart is broke!
Count Julian
Fair One! it hurts my heart to see you weep!
Come—you shall never want for any thing!
Endea
Alas! how can you do all this for me,
And love Celuta so? My heart is broke!
Count Julian
Why, Endea? Would you have me cast away
Celuta from my soul, who is my soul?
Endea
Do as you please—you cannot love us both!
Alas! I am an orphan here on earth!
My parents both are dead! My God! my God!
39
Do love Celuta so? My heart is broke!
Count Julian
Come Endea! do not weep! but smile, my love!
And I will love you from my very soul!
Endea
No! Take Celuta! Take her to your heart!
You say she is your wife—your very soul—
You never can be mine! All hope is gone!
And I can only die! So, fare-you-well!
(Starting away.)
Count Julian
Why, Endea! is it possible you mean
To leave me so abruptly? Do not go!
But sit here by me on this mossy rock,
And let me tell you all my love. Come back!
And you shall be the queen of half my heart!
(She returns.)
Endea
You mock me when you say you love me so!
You do—you do! You never can be mine!
How can you, when you love Celuta so?
Count Julian
No, by my soul! I love you as my life!
Come—you must go to where Celuta is,
And there remain until I come to you.
40
Of which you little dream. Say, will you go?
Endea
I will; for I have many things to say
To her.
Count Julian
Farewell! Kiss her as I kiss thee!
(He kisses her and she goes.)
(Enter Celuta)
Celuta
What have I done to make you treat me so?
Alas! there is no truth this side of Heaven!
Far better had it been for me that you
Had never seen my face, than treat me so!
Count Julian
By heaven! You wrong me! that you do my love!
Celuta
She was my friend—has been for three long years—
Is this the way that she requites my love?
By trying to seduce my soul from me?
But why should I blame her for being false,
When you, the Jewel of my heart, have been?
How frail I was to think that you were true!
I never will be so deceived again!
You have forgotten what you said to her
41
What more could you have said to her than this?
This was the promise that you made to me!
How can you love us both? From this time forth,
A fire is to be kindled in my heart—
A raging fire—which Time shall never quench!
We cannot live together in one place!
If she remain, I will desert this Bower!
What peace can I now see with Endea here,
Who once was dearer to me than my life?
Count Julian
By Heaven! I never loved but you alone!
I told fair Endea that I never did!
Come, my Celuta! Come into my arms!
Like fair Egeria to her Numa's soul!
And lifting up thy deep blue eyes to mine,
And swimming with unshed throes of pure delight,
Throw thy soft tapering arms around my neck
White as fresh lilies from the Fields of Heaven—
As if by all the Graces moulded thus—
Shaming perfection with their perfectness—
And after sealing they deep, newawakened love
To the lips pure—let fall thy languid head
In blissful cose, upon my panting breast!
42
Go, my Celuta! call her back again!
(Exit Celuta)
Poor Endea! she is ready now to die!
For she has lived just long enough to love,
Which is life's prelude unto Death to all
Who have not been requited with the same;
For we have but two minuits here to live—
The first one is to love—the next to die!
This is the language of the great Jean-Paul.
In Endea's case it is the sacred truth
(Reenter Celuta attended by Endea. Celuta retires with Count Julian into the interior of the bower, where they converse unheard.)
Endea
Who can this be? this Julian so divine?
Is this the lover that she told me of?
It must be so from what he says of her—
Whom I believed descended from the skies.
My God! am I not wretched in this world?
Am I not doubly orphaned here on earth?
Surely I am—for I have lost all here!
What shall I do? he is Celuta's love!
43
He is the one to whom the Dove was sent.
I saw the letter he returned to her,
He has been long expected on this Isle.
If this be so, he never can be mine!
And never to be mine—how can I live?
Oh! when I look upon his face, I feel
As if I were in Heaven—all full of light—
But when I turn my eyes away from him,
I then see nothing but the darkest night,
And his Celuta standing in the dark!
And, yet, I have not known him for an hour!
But what of that? he is my soul! the rich
Embodiment of all my Dreams of Heaven!
And losing him—I have no hope but—Hell!
But when did he arrive? how came he here?
Lamorah says that no one ever came
Upon this Isle without his knowing it.
A thought now strikes me. Is he not disguised
As young Yanassa from the Land of Souls?
It must be so, that is the reason why
He will not seek Lamorah's house again.
I know I should not have Celuta's love—
But, yet, I cannot live unless I do.
44
A heritage which no one can deprive
Me of—the privilege bequeathed to all
Mankind by Heaven—the privilege to die!
I know, to lose him, will be living death!
Therefore, to die, will be to live again—
Free from the living death that I now die!
Count Julian
(coming forward with Celuta)
These were the pure outpourings of her heart,
In its most sinless moment, full of love,
And in the burning bliss that love inspires.
Celuta
The soul that loves is filled with part of God—
Thereby, possessing riches in the skies;
For when you lay your hand upon her form—
A Virgin whose pure heart is full of love—
You lay your hand upon high Heaven on earth!
(approaching Endea)
Come, Endea! take Count Julian's arm;
We have consulted what is best to do.
We are now going from this Bower of Bliss
This Daphnian Grove of Joy—into our Cave,
Where, banqueting upon the nectared Sweets
That thy Celuta has prepared for thee,
45
When, on the morning-side of youth, we played
Beneath the fragrant Orange Grove at noon,
Beside the living Palm-tree Wells, in joy,
Before the Night of Sorrow had come down
To chase the golden sunshine from our hearts.
Endea
Ah! with poor Endea Joy can never dwell!
Not through the vistas of long, trying years—
Nor through the desert-waste of this dark life—
Can hie pure Memory now one single joy—
No bright Elysian Fields of Happiness,
Where have gathered flowers in infancy—
Drinking pure pleasure from the cup of bliss—
Pass in review to make her sad soul glad!
But all is barrenness—before—behind—
An ocean boundless of Saharian sand—
Which threatens now to overwhelm her soul!
(Exeunt omnes.)
| The unpublished plays of Thomas Holley Chivers | |