 |
|
| 1. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 2. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 3. |
| 1. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 4. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 5. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 2. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 3. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 2. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 3. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 1. |
| 2. | Scene II |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 5. |
| 5. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
|
| 1. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 2. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 3. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 4. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 5. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
 | The unpublished plays of Thomas Holley Chivers |  |
Scene II
(A private apartment in Holyrood House. Enter Charles Stuart to Fernando.)Page
Oh, good my lord, have you not seen
The lovely Flora yet.
Charles Stuart
Why ask me that
Which you already know? She kist thy hand,
Beguiled the time most ardently with you.
Page
Indeed, she did not, though she prest it oft,
115
And softer than the down upon the swan.
Charles Stuart
And did she sigh to thee?
Page
She did, my lord,
Presenting me a jeweled ring, which shone
Like Hesperus. Her words dropt from her lips
Like honey from the parted comb.
Charles Stuart
(Aside)
Fine words—
The very ring I gave to her—fine words;
And you accepted it, of course?
Page
Not so,
I bade her earnestly take back the gift,
And in refusing whispered in her ear,
Those soothing words which were more grateful than
Apologies.
Charles Stuart
In love!
Page
Is that a crime?
116
It is. What would the Caledonian Flower
Do with DiOssima, my youthful Page?
Page
I thought as much, therefore, refused the gifts.
Charles Stuart
But know you not that Ronald is in love?
Page
With whom, my lord?
Charles Stuart
With Flora, to be sure.
Page
It is—it is not so.
Charles Stuart
Art sure of that?
Page
I spoke to him in Madalena's praise,
At which his bosom panted as for war.
He loves thy daughter as he does his life.
Charles Stuart
Nay, you shall have my Madalena, boy.
Page
Indeed, Sir Ronald would be jealous then.
He has best right to Madalena's love.
117
But mind! You sing for Flora no more songs.
Page
What, think you that Fernando would unsurp
The right of royal Charles? Was it for this
He left his native land—became thy Page?
Charles Stuart
Most noble boy, thou art thyself again!
Come to my arms!
Page
(Embracing him.)
Then promise me one thing,
Shall not Sir Ronald be thy son?
Charles Stuart
He shall,
For he is noble, worthy of my child.
Page
Then, let me go, for he must know of this.
Charles Stuart
But mind! I will be jealous if he grasp
Thy hand too often; it must all be mine.
(Exit Page.)
(Enter Lochiel)
What news, my noble friend?
Lochiel
No news, my lord,
118
Charles Stuart
The Highland Chief?
Lochiel
The very same.
Charles Stuart
He was the first who chanced
To meet me on the shore.
Lochiel
The first, my lord?
Charles Stuart
The very first.
Lochiel
Well, that is strange.
Charles Stuart
Why so?
Lochiel
Did he receive you with much joy?
Charles Stuart
Not he—
It was no greeting such as thine.
Lochiel
Most true.
But did no angry words between you pass?
119
Not one. When he refused to bring us troops,
My Page accosted him with his drawn sword,
At which his bosom panted like the sea,
As if it bore an agony within,
Too mighty for his heart.
Lochiel
Would he had burst.
Charles Stuart
Why so?
Lochiel
Because he is thy deadliest foe.
Charles Stuart
I care not for his rage. There never was
A storm without a calm.
Lochiel
There is no calm
To his eternal storm.
Charles Stuart
I heed him not.
Man's passion is the suicidal act
That kills itself. Why should I care for him?
Lochiel
He will destroy thy life.
120
How heard you this?
Lochiel
From his own lips.
Charles Stuart
From his own lips? The fool
Has impudence enough to drown his rage.
Lochiel
It is amphibious—cannot drown.
Charles Stuart
What is
The cause of this?
Lochiel
Thy Flora, so he says.
Charles Stuart
The fool is mad. Tell Ronald of this thing,
He must be watched.
Lochiel
He has an evil heart.
The lion, raged, will show his teeth—he will
Uncase his fangs—they are the shafts of death.
He seemed to gather all his soul in one.
Great effort to disgorge his wrath, his lungs
Still heaving like the sea, his nostrils wide,
121
His eyeballs glaring, forehead pursed to frowns,
His lips still pregnant with intent to speak,
His arm highlifted, clenched his fists,
As if to clutch his victim by the throat,
His teeth still grinding all distinct to view,
As when the wild boar whets his tusks for war;
And thus while laboring to repress his wrath,
Which like the swollen torrent would come forth,
He vomited his black bile on thy name.
Charles Stuart
Look out for him! Set every blood hound on
His track; pursue him to the Gates of Death;
When found precipitate him down to Hell!
(Exeunt)
| The unpublished plays of Thomas Holley Chivers | |