 | The Priestess |  |
1
The Priestess: A TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS.
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- ACILIUS, Commander in Chief.
- OTHO, his Aid.
- OCTAVIAN, a Knight.
- MARCUS, a Soldier.
- A SERVANT.
CHARACTERS OF THE TRAGEDY.
ROMANS.
- AMBRON, Chief of a leading tribe.
- GONTRAN, a subordinate Chief.
- ARNULF, a renegade.
- RUDIGER, Chief Druid.
- HAGEN, a Druid.
- EGBERT, a Soldier.
- FIRST SOLDIER.
- SECOND SOLDIER.
- DRUIDS, SOLDIERS, &c.
- NORMA, High Priestess.
- ADALGISA.
- BERTHA.
- PRIESTESSES, ATTENDANTS, &c.[_]
The scene is laid in Gaul, about the commencement of the Christian era.
A partial hint for the story of this tragedy is drawn from the opera of Norma; but it is not till the last scene of the fourth act of the tragedy that the action begins to bear any resemblance to that of the opera. Thenceforward several parallel situations will be found, though the incidence and catastrophe are greatly varied.
[_]Any theatrical establishment performing this play without express authority will be held legally responsible.
The publication of any portion without the consent of the Author, is expressly prohibited.
Any person holding a copy of this play, without authority from the Author, is respectfully requested to return it by mail to the Author's address, Boston, Mass.
GAULS.
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ACT I.
Scene I.
—The Roman encampment in Gaul. Tent of Acilius. Enter from tent, as if in conversation, Acilius and Otho.Acil.
Such is the peril, Otho, to our arms,
Should these fierce Gauls compel us to engage
Ere our new levies reach us. What advise you?
Otho.
Why, when the strong arm fails, the subtle brain
Must make its failure good. In short, my General,
A happy stratagem might save us.
Acil.
Well—
Invent one.
Otho.
No; a child could foil me in
An intrigue. Put me on plain, easy work—
Fighting.
Acil.
These plotting Druids baffle us;
And Gaul would see its life in Rome's protection
But for their tyranny.
Enter Marcus
What is it Marcus?
Marc.
My lord, a vagrant Gaul, who tells us he
Is a deserter, is within our lines
And under guard.
Acil.
There keep him. What's he like?
Marc.
More an Iberian than a Gaul. He'd rather
Poison than strike, or else his looks belie him.
Otho.
Come now, a true deserter, and no spy.
Acil.
(To Marcus.)
Conduct him hither.
[Exit Marcus
Otho.
'Tis no patriot grief
Stamps such a visage.
Acil.
Trust not to a visage.
I've known the deepest villain in all Rome,
Bearing so open and unwrit a brow,
With voice so frank and hearty, smile so genial,
You'd look for a lightning flash from yonder sky,
Rather than guile from him.
4
(To Arnulf.)
Your name?
(Arnulf glances at Marcus, as if to have him dismissed.)
Go, Marcus.
[Exit Marcus
Now?
Arn.
Arnulf, my name.
Acil.
Your motive for desertion?
Arn.
Hate's my motive;
A weakness, I admit but still I have it;
Steady though fierce clear-sighted, though relentless
Hate for inflicted wrongs.
Acil.
And who their author?
Arn.
The council of confederated chiefs,—
Ambron, their leader,—Norma, the high priestess,
Who has them all more abject than her hound
At her least beck.
Otho.
And your offence—what was it?
Arn.
It matters not! Yet, lest you doubt me, hear it:
Lieutenant 'mong the Arverni, I withheld
Gold due a comrade's widow; was for that
Doomed to be scourged and branded,—then degraded
To servile tendance on the army, Desperate
I threw myself at Norma's feet, for she
Could save me, but she gave me to my ruin.
Acil.
Well, Otho?
Otho.
I believe him.
Acil.
(To Arnulf.)
And does Norma
Urge on the war?
Arn.
Proclaims what you'll deny not:
The timely moment and your feeble state.
Roused by her eager words the tribes are arming
For a descent upon you that shall be
Resistless as an unexpected torrent!
But, mark me, Roman, 'tis a woman's will
That guides the impending mischief.
Acil.
And what then?
Arn.
Then, put your hand upon the helm that guides.
Acil.
How? Seize her person?
Arn.
Nay, her will.
Acil.
By bribes?
Arn.
Bribes? No! Not bribes in your sense. This it is
Hedged by her sacred office from the approach
Of youths enamored, Norma now has reached
The first rich bloom of womanhood, unwooed,
But not—I fancy—not unwoo-able,
If we may trust in gender. In her heart
5
A world of sighs and tears and ecstacies
Lurk to befool her, for she is a woman!
And not fanatic zeal nor iron custom,
Strong as they are, can bind a woman's will.
Guess you my drift?
Acil.
But vaguely. Make it plainer.
Arn.
That duping awe, which frights the simple Gaul
From gazing with a thought of mortal passion
On Norma's beauty, would not dash the Roman.
This briefly then: select some noble youth
From out your ranks—and let his errand be
To woo and wed the priestess—privately.—
As it perforce must be—for she must break
Her vestal vow first, and the penalty
For that is death. But once his wedded wife
He can subdue her to Rome's purposes,
And through her wield or sheathe the Gallic sabre.
Otho.
A rare adventure for some gilded youth!
And, in our present straits, methinks the scheme
Were worth the instant trying.
Acil.
Try it then.
Otho.
I? I should scare her with my beard—and she
Frighten me with her smoothness ten times worse.
Acil.
(To Arnulf.)
What style of wooer would you have us send?
Arn.
A thorough man—yet not so absolute
A man, he cannot freely sport with those
Illusions that do catch a woman's heart,
And make her dream (poor fool) there's such a thing
As love,—O! endless and unchangeable—
A man, in short, can talk, and look, and sigh—
Ay, weep if need be, in extremity.
Acil.
(To Otho.)
Know you of such?
Otho.
I cannot on the moment—
Hold! Is not that Octavian? It is he!
The man for this adventure!
Acil.
The rich knight
Who seeks a battle as one would a revel,
Flying from weariness;—comes here to Gaul
As to an ampler amphitheatre
With games in which he too may bear a part.
Otho.
But still the man we seek. Let me accost him
[Exit.
Arn.
(Aside.)
Now, Ambron, mine shall be a double vengeance!
6
And do your Druids, Gaul, in sacrifice
Shed human blood?
Arn.
Once, freely; rarely now,
Since Norma, paramount in war as peace,
Holds them in check, nay, with extinction threat—
Acil.
A moment wait.
The chosen gallant comes!
(Enter Otho and Octavian.)
Octavian, many welcomes!
Oct.
Salutation!
What wild work's this you've carved for me, my chief?
Is this our Gaul? Well, Gaul, what evil spirit
Has thrust into thy brain this villain plot
'Gainst Norma?
Arn.
Is't a villain plot, to find
A husband for the lady?
Oct.
Husband? Husband?
Arn.
No lover will our Gallic women heed,
Who sues not for the ampler title. They,
Being uncivilized, have still an awkward
Respect for chastity and nuptial faith.
Oct.
Do you hear that, my chief? A husband! I!
No! Find some other victim for the frolic.
What!—run my neck into the noose domestic—
Stand coupled for a life-time with a woman!
Not were she Helen and Pe-nelo-pe,
Aspasia and Lucretia—all in one!
Acil.
'Tis to serve Rome; the marriage will of course
Then be invalid by Rome's highest law!
Oct.
But not by that established here, my chief,
A higher law—a law we cannot break
Without a chafing and a—Tell me, Gaul,
Did you ne'er feel, before a scoundrel action,
A something pulling, tugging at your heart
To bring it right, though never conquering
In the unequal contest?
Arn.
War, my lord,
Levels all nice distinctions. Stratagems
That would be base, as between man and man,
Are to a General's honor—if successful.
Oct.
Success! Ay, that's the consecrating charm
If I do fail, my crime is but a crime;
If I succeed, 'tis inspiration, glory.
The gods think otherwise:—but pardon me—
Believe you in the gods?
Arn.
Religiously.
(Aside.)
That is, not at all.
7
You look like a pious youth!
The gods take up the threads of consequence
To our triumphant sins; and retribution
Comes, shod with wool—but comes.—I play th' haranguer;
Forgive me, friends; I'll further probe this scheme
And straightway join you.
Otho.
(Aside to Octavian.)
Things look bad enough.
We snatch at straws. Do what you can to save us.
[Exeunt Acilius and Otho
Arn.
(To Octavian abstracted.)
My lord!
Oct.
Well, Gaul?
Arn.
I cannot urge it on you.
The peril far outweighs the honor of't.
You go alone—you cross the Gallic lines—
You seek the sacred grove where Norma dwells:—
What are the chances?—That before you reach it
You're seized as a spy and slain. And, should you pierce
Unseen to Norma's presence, there's the risk
Your fair words may not raise the tender thought,
Or even avail to save your forfeit life.
Oct.
True; there's the risk.
Arn.
And should you even succeed—
Should you win Norma—(and believe me, Roman,
The conquest might make even a Cæsar proud)—
You jeopard both your lives and make disclosure
Twice imminent.
Oct.
Proceed. You argue well.
Arn.
(Aside.)
Have I misread my man? (Aloud.)
I've said enough
For your dissuasion.
Oct.
Gaul, what see you there,
Tied to the oak tree?
Arn.
There? A horse who chafes
To break away.
Oct.
'Tis mine. I go to mount him.
Brief the time now between me and my object!
Arn.
Since you wilt rush to the venture 'gainst my urging,
Take this, (shows a small parchment,)
a chart, on which are dotted down
The lines to guide you. Norma's mansion lies
Upon the sunward border of this grove,
Nestled 'mid roses, blossoms of the grape,
And all the odor-shedding flowers and shrubs.
Reach that—and Norma's heart!—and you are safe.
Oct.
(Taking the chart.)
Before I thank you, I must see more clearly
The issue of this bus'ness. You can wait.
[Exit
8
Ah, my fine, fleering blade! for all your scorn
I may requite you too in the general quittance.—
So treads the future victor! He'll not fail.
He takes a hurried leave of them;—he throws
Aside his martial trappings—mounts his horse
And gallops towards the outposts.—So far well!
Now must I get permission to lurk near
And watch him closely, lest he do relent.
[Exit
SCENE II.
A Druidical grove.—A raised altar—, crowned with wreaths of flowers, evergreen, &c. Norma on the steps— Adalgisa, and female attendants near. Druids on either side, and an outer circle of Gallic soldiers, standard bearers, chiefs, &c.—Rudiger, Gontran, Ambron, present.— A short strain of music as the scene opens.Norma.
Thus do we consecrate your banners, soldiers!
Not from an altar stained with human blood,
Nor yet with sacrifice of beasts. The gods
Abhor the ignorance which would win their favor
By cruelty. No more of that!—We bring
Flowers of the spring-time, roses, blossoming boughs,
And, wreathed o'er all, the sacred misletoe;
Not as gifts needful to the gods, who have
Their amaranthine bowers of endless bloom,—
But as the symbols of our gratitude,
Our worship, our dependence,—of the faith
That keeps its living green 'mid desolation
And clings, though storms would tear it, to the creed
Of life in death—of immortality!—
Not silent are the oracles; the omens
All smile propitious on you, and the answers,
Vouchsafed my prayers, promise an easy triumph
If—if you seize upon the instant time.
Wait not beyond to-morrow! In delay
Thenceforward there's a gloom impenetrable.
(Norma descends from the altar.)
Then rally, Gauls, and rush upon the foe!
For homes, for hearths, for wives and babes, you strike,—
For your free altars and your sacred groves,—
And, above all, for priceless liberty!
You go not forth to ravage, but to rescue;
Not to make desolate a smiling land
And give to the sword old men and shrieking virgins;
9
Such horrors. Then each heart's resolve be this:
No footstep backward till the field is won.
The benedictions of the gods be on you!
Like bucklers be our prayers! The rites are ended.
[Music.—Norma and her train pass out; after them Druids and soldiers, except Rudiger, Goutran, and Ambron; the latter in the background.
Rud.
The rites, the rites! Gontran, she said the rites!
Music for shrieks, and flowers for hecatombs!
Water for blood, and prayers for mystic orgies!
And these are all the rites to win the gods
To favor Gaul's last stake! By such girl's pastime
We hope to make our fathers' gods propitious!
O, Gontran, you and I have seen the day,
Beneath that oak, festooned with roses now,
Fit for a lover's, not a warrior's tryst,
A hundred human lives were offered up
And all this ground was crimson.
Gont.
I remember.
Did it avail though, all that blood and anguish?
Did we not lose the battle?
Rud.
Ay, we lost it.
But—but we had not heeded well the omens
I tell thee, we may date the swift decline
Of Gaul and of the Druids from the day,
Beguiled by Norma, we refused the gods
A human life in sacrifice. What I,
What all the Druids now? unheeded idlers,
Superfluous to the system that a woman
Is building up!
Ambron.
(Who has approached.)
That's very true.
Rud.
Ha! Ambron?
Amb.
Since you deplore the past
And think the gods are craving human blood.
What if I give them some of yours? You shrink!
Ere now I've heard your mutterings. You're of those
Who're ever prating of the good old times
When the priest's function was to play the butcher.
And he could juggle fools with consultations
Of reeking entrails. Now, the country's ruined
Because your filthy shambles are denied you;
Because (so you'd persuade us) the great gods
Are coy for lack of carrion. Do ye hope
Again to sink us to such idiot frenzies?
Rud.
Frenzies? Without the Druids and the culture
10
Slaves, savages! Our fathers wrought those frenzies.
Amb.
Our fathers dwelt in caves, went clad in skins,
Roamed like wild beasts for forage. Thanks to Norma,
Your day of blood is over.
Rud.
For the present,
I do admit it, Norma has the power.
Amb.
How gained she it? How gained the people's trust,
The army's reverence? Where you told us lies,
She told us truths. Where you did prophesy
Falsely and wantonly, her careful words
Found their fulfilment. Where to wounded men
You brought your incantations, she brought skill
In bandages and herbs and applications
That soothed and healed, while you could only mutter.
Tempt me no farther by maligning Norma.
I do endure you only, not approve.
Beware lest I do sever with this sword
The slender hold you yet have on the people.
I know you—they shall know you, if you tempt me.
[Exit
Rud.
Are we not fallen indeed, constrained to hear
And to endure such contumely? We—
Your Druid teachers, Gontran—once supreme!
How long is't since Gaul's proudest chief would kneel
To kiss our garment's hem! And now—All this—
All this is Norma's work! Ambron himself
How docile once and reverent! Hear him now!
She has bewitched him!
Gont.
With an honest witchery,—
Her charms!
Rud.
Ha! Should there be a mutual spell!
Should she, in her supremacy, infract
Her vestal vow!—
Gont.
Well: she is absolute—
The people would believe no wrong of her.
Rud.
I know not that. Give us that hold, and then—
Let her be watched! And Gontran, be thou sure
Thy star shall culminate as hers and Ambron's
Plunge in the wave. Come! We will bide our time—
The ancient Druid oak has some sap left.
[Exeunt
11
SCENE III.
The front of Norma's cottage. Enter from the cottage Norma, meeting Adalgisa, who has entered.Norma.
Now Adalgisa, why this breathless haste?
What is it? What has happened?
Adal.
In the grove,
Sacred to you, O Norma, and your women,
I met a man.
Nor.
One of the foresters
Who license have, at certain hours, to be there.
A bright discovery, girl!
Adal.
No forester,
A noble chief, more like; though simply clad.
Nor.
Did you not give the alarm?
Adal.
He pleaded with me
In words so strangely fluent—
Nor.
Adalgisa!
You parleyed with him then?
Adal.
I could not help it.
He seized my hand,—
Nor.
And you did let him hold it?
Adal.
I was bewildered. He was on his knees,—
Nor.
You let him kneel?
Adal.
Imploring me to hear him
Ere I betrayed.
Nor.
How could he pass the guard?
Adal.
Many were absent at the consecration.
Nor.
True. I forgot. What Gallic chief would dare
Profane our grounds?
Adal.
O, priestess! he confessed
Himself a Roman.
Nor.
Ha! most like, a spy!
He must be tracked. (Going.)
(Enter Octavian, unnoticed by them.)
Adal.
(Withholding Norma.)
Wait but a few short moments.
Poor at the best his chances of escape!
Oct.
(Aside.)
And 'tis for me she pleads!
Adal.
(Seeing Octavian.)
Ah! This is he!
Nor.
Intruder! Is your life so vile a thing
That you thus venture where 'tis forfeited
Beyond redemption?
Oct.
Nay, I hold it precious,
But 'twere a cheap exchange for this encounter.
Nor.
'Tis doubly forfeited: first as our foe—
Oct.
Not thine, O noble lady!
12
Then, as daring
To invade these precincts. Adalgisa, go
Summon the sacred guard. ... Wilt thou obey?
[Exit Adalgisa reluctantly.
(Aside.)
He heard me, yet he heeds not! (To Oct.)
Are you mad?
Found here, your life will not be long enough
For a last prayer. Fly, Roman, while you may!
He will not stir! Do you then court your doom?
Oct.
'Twill not be hard, after your anger, lady.
Nor.
My anger? I'm not angry. I could weep, tho',
Vexed to thus see you trifle with your time.
Away!
Oct.
To be thus banished from your presence,
Is it not worse than death?
Nor.
Then stay, perverse one,
And give a woman's eyes the spectacle
Of a swift, violent end! .... Why are you here?
Oct.
Thou see'st:—to look on Norma!
Nor.
Every moment
Speeds on your danger. Hark!
Oct.
Regard it not.
Bear with me through the interval, and then
Let the swift death come down!
Nor.
Inexplicable!
Were you a spy,—
Oct.
I should not linger here!
Nor.
Your name?
Oct.
Octavian.
Nor.
And your birth-place?
Oct.
Rome.
Nor.
The worse for you! Rome? The imperious city!
The splendid murderess! Sending armies forth
To earth's remotest climes to kill and ravage,
Enslave and plunder and depopulate!
Rome? Malediction, ruin and despair
On Rome! In what have we offended Rome?
Have we infringed her borders? Threatened her—
Wronged her in any way? She cannot say it!
But the gods do not sleep. Rome's day will come!
Oct.
Couldst thou but see Rome in her glory, lady,
Her temples, arches, amphitheatres,
And the full tide of life that throbs and pours
Along her avenues—
Nor.
What to me her pomp?
Temples? We have them in our groves of oak,
Ampler than her Ca-pito-line. For arches,
13
And, would you see an amphitheatre,
Pause on the slope of yonder towering hill!
Oct.
Fairer than all, the abode where Norma dwells!
Here might the wanderer pause, and cry content!
Fate! give me here to dwell, and let the world
Roll on with all its pageants. Every tree,
The vines, the trellised roses, and the shrubs
Do seem more fragrant and more beautiful
Because of Norma's love and Norma's care!—
If I did vaunt Rome's grandeur, 'twas to add
That yonder bower were dearer to Octavian
Than her imperial gardens. I could tell thee
Such tales of Rome, her glory and her guilt—
Her heroes, poets—
Nor.
(Subdued.)
Poets?
Oct.
Hast thou heard
Of any?
Nor.
Ay! ... Hark! Leave me! You refuse still?
Have you no friends, no kindred will deplore you
Looking for your return, long, long in vain?
Oct.
Remind me not of that.
Nor.
Have you no mother?
Oct.
Ay, one so fond, she spoiled me.
Nor.
You've a sister?
Oct.
A precious one!
Nor.
And you've perhaps a wife?
Oct.
No, on my soul, no wife. Had I a wife,
I had not ventured thus.
Nor.
What frenzy led you
Into this hazard?
Oct.
Love ... I dreamed of Norma—
Dreamed—but her presence beggars all I dreamed
Of noble and most lovely.
Nor.
Trebly forfeit
Is your life now.
Oct.
I know it.
Nor.
Sacrilege
Is in your words.
Oct.
I know it. But consider:
If I approach thee with less awe than love,
To me, adoring other gods than thine,
Thou'rt but a peerless woman, not a priestess.
Nor.
So! I begin to fathom you. You hope,
I, in my woman's weakness, now will spare you
Because of these soft flatteries, coined so aptly.
Oct.
Lady! a taunt upon a Roman's courage
14
To any face but hers I'd say as false.
(Going, and speaking in a loud voice.)
What, ho! Who hears?
Nor.
(Stopping him)
Hold! Hush!
Oct.
Sound the alarm!
Come forth!
Nor.
I do beseech you!
Oct.
Will none hear?
Nor.
I wronged you. Pardon me.
Oct.
O! pardon me,
Bright excellence, that thus intruding, I
Have dared to—
(Enter Adalgisa.)
Nor.
(Eagerly.)
Adalgisa! Back so quickly?
Are they at hand? Speak! Do I hear their tramp?
Thou'rt prompt, when human life is in the balance.
Adal.
Such labyrinths the foresters have made!
Running with headlong haste, I missed the path,
And took one that has brought me here again.
Oct.
(Aside.)
I knew she'd miss the path
Nor.
And thou art here,
Thy errand unfulfilled? This thy obedience?
Adal.
Be not offended. Instantly I'll go
And try again.
Nor.
No. I have those within
Need not a second bidding ere they heed me.
Go to the temple. Stay! No word, I charge thee,
Of this event. Begone.
[Exit Adalgisa
There's yet a chance
Of safety for you, Roman. Take that path,
Keep in the thickest of the wood till nightfall,
Then speed to your encampment.
Oct.
Quitting thee,
Perchance forever? Urge me not to that.
Nor.
What would you do?
Oct.
Dwell near thee;—see thee—hear thee!
Nor.
Impossible! This once, by a kind marvel,
Detection has o'erlooked you. Such a chance
May not again befriend.
Oct.
That is my risk.
Here I remain.
Nor.
Audacious! On your head
Then be your blood.
[Exit
Oct.
Ha! Gone? Of all my shafts
Not one sent home to the mark! Void all my art?
15
Thou art a traitor!—No, thou'rt not.—She comes.
(Enter Norma.)
Nor.
(Aside.)
Threats move him not:
Persuasion may. (To Oct.)
My purpose rests suspended
You see! I shrink from pushing on the peril
Your life already stands in: but be sure,
'Tis not for you—not that I care for you,
More than for any straggler of your camp,
That I recoil from seeing you struck down.
Beware of such presumptions—they are dangerous.
I show you mercy I would show to any.
Oct.
If Norma spares me but to show her scorn,
'Tis cruelty, not mercy.
Nor.
Solve me this:
What should he do who truly loved me?
Oct.
Do?
Lay down his life for thee as eagerly
As crown his temples with the bridegroom's wreath.
Nor.
What's more than life?
Oct.
Love, honor.
Nor.
You say true—
Honor—a woman's honor! Sully that
With but suspicion—and she is a ruin.
Innocent, she may smile on desolation
And grow the prouder for the world's traducing.
Guilty, she smiles no more—except in mockery—
And she is crushed indeed. You may suppose,
Lacking Rome's culture, we more lightly prize
Womanhood's crown of virtue: know then, Roman,
The Gaul who's held a coward is less scorned
Than she the wanton. If among the people,
Bound by no oaths, obscure, unconsecrated,
Our maidens keep a spotless fame, shall I,—
Chief ministress between the gods and them
And all—thus parley with the man who dares
Accost me in a language which to hear
Alone is crime? Each moment that you linger,
While I omit denouncing and exposing,
'Tis not your life alone is jeoparded,—
My peace, my good report, my sacred honor,
All—all are on the verge!
Oct.
(Aside.)
She moves me!—No!
Not to save Rome will I molest her more.
(To Norma.)
I go. Forgive me, Norma. In my trespass,
Believe me, not a thought of profanation
16
(If my good stars shall guide me forth in safety)
Treasures not there before, for which I thank thee,—
Thy image and the memory of thy goodness!
Farewell! The gods, whose fit interpreter
Thou art, defend thee ever!
[Exit
Nor.
He is gone!
Gone, too, with step as free as if he trod
To sport instead of danger. Peace go with him! ...
Tears? Did I weep then when he took his leave?
Well: what of that? If he had been a beggar,
Mean and uncouth, I should have wept the same—
Indeed I should! I weep at veriest trifles—
A wounded bird—some story of old time—
Mere fiction, 't may be. (Looking off.)
Ah! he takes the road
Must lead to certain peril. (Calling.)
Ho! Not that!
The left! the left!—With what a luminous smile,
Yet sad, he waves his thanks—then moves away—
Away forever from me! ... Footsteps? Hark!
Foresters? Ha! They go to cross his track—
They will detect—arrest him. (Calling.)
Roman! Stop!
Return!—He will not hear me, or not heed.—
Roman!—Will nothing turn him then?—Octavian!
Ah! now he hears. (Goes to the opposite side of the stage, listens.)
Are voices this way, too?
Ay, but too surely! Ruin all around!
How shall I save him? Bid him enter there
In my own sacred dwelling? Never! Rather
I'd perish with him. Yet—
(Enter Octavian.)
You've stayed too long.
You'll be detected. Scouts on every side
Traverse the forest. O! why came you here?
I cannot shelter you. Impossible!
Nearer they come, and nearer.
Oct.
Stay not, Norma;
On me be all the peril. With my sword
I'll make a lane through fifty foresters.
Nor.
Madness! Resistance—death! Go in! go in!
Quick! And hide there till nightfall.
Oct.
Noble lady,
I thank thee, but I cannot.
Nor.
In, I say.
Oct.
A Roman, Norma, will not be outdone
In generous daring by a woman. No!
17
Such hospitality may bring upon thee.
I'll meet them yonder.
Nor.
(Withholding him.)
No. You shall not do it.
Go in!
Oct.
I'll not.
Nor.
Go! ... if you love me, go!
(Octavian abruptly goes in.)
So! I've at last compelled him. But that word—
Why did I give it utterance? Ha! how wildly
My heart is throbbing, as 'twould leap to the light!—
Footsteps again?—My limbs sink under me.
I've not the strength to drag me—where? Within?
Into his presence? Oh! what powerful Fate
Has of a sudden seized me in its arms?
But it shall not detain me! Loose thy hold!
Away! I will go free! I will. ... Ah me!
Weak, weak—I faint—
(Enter Octavian, who supports her.)
Oct.
Let me support thee in.
(As he supports her, voices are heard without—Norma breaks from him.)
Nor.
No! Go you in. I ask it. I will come,
When I am calmer, and confer with you.
[Exit Octavian; Norma in a different direction.
END OF ACT I.
ACT II.
Scene I.
—The Gallic encampment. Soldiers gambling and carousing. Egbert looking on.1st Soldier.
Well, boys, the luck's against me. I surrender.
I've nothing else to stake, unless it be
My share of the Roman spoils. (They rise and come forward.)
Egbert.
The Roman spoils—
When shall we see them?
2d Soldier.
Next day after doomsday
At this rate!
1st Sold.
O! be patient. You shall have—
All in good season, friend—a Roman pike
Thrust in your midriff.
Egb.
Ay, and all the surer
For waiting till the enemy are succored.
I like not this delay. But two days since,
And Norma promised us an easy conquest,
Seized we the instant time. Now the wind's changed.
18
Are eager for the grapple, we're held back,
While every hour new levies may arrive
To make our chances worse.
2d Sold.
Let's tell our chiefs
That we fight now or never—now or never!
1st Sold.
Particularly never, he would add, boys.
(Soldiers laugh.)
2d Sold.
(Angrily.)
Come, I'll have no more taunting.
1st Sold.
You alarm me.
In every wrinkle, dignity! (Soldiers laugh.)
2d Sold.
(Pushing 1st Sold.)
Take that!
1st Sold.
There, boys, this fellow wants a fight so badly,
He'll e'en take up with me, since Norma holds him
Back from the Roman. (Draws.)
Stand, and see the fun.
2d Soldier draws. Other Soldiers form a ring.)
Other Soldiers.
Ay, ay, a fight, a fight! No crowding there!
All ready now!
Egb.
Peace, brawlers! See you not
Your general approaching?
(1st and 2d Soldiers hide their Swords. Other Soldiers slink away. Enter Ambron.)
Amb.
What means this
Unmannerly tumult? Quarrelling? No sooner
A little freedom granted, than ye wrest it
To your confusion, making it a curse?
(To 2d Sold.)
Blockhead, put up thy sword! (To all.)
Hence, to your stations!
[Exeunt Soldiers grumbling. Egbert goes to follow them.
Stay, Egbert! Did my ears report untruly,
Or did they catch complaining, mutinous words
From an old soldier?
Egb.
What I said, my chief,
I say: we're held in check to our own damage.
Wound to the pitch, delay but slackens us.
Each moment weakens Gaul, and strengthens Rome.
Look at the soldiers! how shall they be kept,
Left idle thus, from gambling and carousing?
As well keep leaves from stirring when the wind blows!
Amb.
And if you'd fault to find, could you not speak it
To your chief rather than to men aroused
By a breath to good or evil—swayed as lightly
This way as that—impulsive, unreflecting,—
And who, but through obedience to the head
That meditates and guides, would rush on ruin?
Egb.
The tongue, my chief, speaks bluntly when the heart
19
Its object what?
Amb.
Though it be dark to us,
The gods behold it clearly; and to Norma
Confide their will. But while we speak, she comes.
(Enter Norma. They bow low.)
Nor.
Hail, friends!
Amb.
Our troops, O Norma! are impatient
To cope with Rome. They wince at this delay.
This veteran Egbert hath himself grown restive,
And, like a war-horse, panteth for the trumpets.
Egb.
Priestess, thy words were trumpets to my heart;
And all the blame is theirs if I am restive.
Kept loitering here, our discipline grows lax,
And every moment makes the Roman stronger.
What wait we for?
Nor.
(Abstractedly.)
What wait we for? I know not.
Amb.
Egbert, it is the voice of heaven directs her,
And never yet did it direct her wrong.
Her omens are not drawn from slaughtered victims,
From flights of birds, or accidents of nature,
But from the unerring, the divine monition,
Audibly whispered to the pure in heart:
And that, for some good cause, now bids us wait.
Nor.
(Aside.)
O, loyal soul! Didst thou but know thy words
Were so like daggers! (To Egb.)
Wilt thou be content,
Egbert, and trust me?
Egb.
Wholly, noble priestess!
Thy voice shall be as potent to restrain
As to impel.
(Riotous noise, shouts, &c., without.)
Amb.
O, these unruly soldiers!
The fickle knaves! To-morrow they will be
Rampant for peace as they are now for war.
(Renewed shouts and laughter.)
Egbert, go still them.
[Exit Egbert
Norma, be not moved
One jot by these seditions from your course.
They're but the incidents to every camp,
When ease and plenty meet.
Nor.
To-morrow, Ambron,
If I may trust the present auspices
I feel around me, you shall hear the word
That shall let loose your army on the Roman.
Amb.
'T is well. One word. I do mistrust the Druids;
They love you not. Avoid them.
20
Have no fear.
Amb.
Nay then, I'll watch them. Fools! They do not see
You stand between them and the Roman, who
Seeks their extermination, holding them
The bar to Rome's establishment in Gaul.
You heed me not.
Nor.
Go bid your soldiers, Ambron,
Be ready for the morrow.
Amb.
They shall know
All you have said.
Nor.
Farewell, then.
[Exit Ambron
O, how abject
His noble presence made me! How I drooped
Beneath those eyes whence only truth looked out!
Why, as he spake of heavenly intimations
Prompting my heart,—Why did I not declare
An earth-born passion drove it, and usurped
All that to country and to heaven belonged!
Yet—like a juggler trembling for his trick—
There stood I—I!—Sworn foe to all imposture,
Who from false prophets and colluding priests
But lately tore the mask—O, misery!
My own face now must wear one—flexile grow
In feigning—I, whose consecrated lips,—
Moved by a will not mine to utterance,—
Proclaimed celestial messages—I now
Must counterfeit and palter, passing off
My selfish and infatuated action
For a divine constraint. O, never! never!
Ere 't is too late I'll break from this delusion;
Ay, though the effort's cost should be his life!
[Exit
SCENE II.
A walled garden. Norma's arbor on one side. Enter Octavian from the arbor.Oct.
O! this kind Nature, with her wealth of verdure,
Her summer odors and her songs of birds,
How she rebukes the purpose at my heart
Would make of this abode a desolation!
Under a false pretence I linger here,
Planning a deadly ambush for the heart,
(And that a woman's) that hath hazarded
Peace—life—to insure my safety;—that hath waited
In my feigned illness on me—lavishing
21
This is a double treachery thou art plotting—
First against Norma as a loving woman,
Then as her country's trusted counsellor.
But I too have a country!—Must I though
Serve it at honor's cost?—Back—back to camp!
In his good sword a Roman's trust should be,
Not in base stratagems against a woman.
(As he goes to the arbor, a scroll is thrown over the wall. He picks it up.)
What 's here? Ha! From Acilius—and for me!
(Reads.)
“No reënforcements yet. Bad news from Rome.
“Perhaps Rome's safety hangs on your success.
“At any sacrifice keep back the foe.”
How! Rome in peril? And is this a time
To falter in her service? to recoil,
Through nice compunction, from a dubious task?
Come, Powers that lend to mortal energies
New life in time of need, attend me now!
Let brain, tongue, eye, and every faculty
Be prompt to help my purpose. 'T is for Rome,
My country, Rome, I venture. If I tread
In the event upon a woman's heart,
What 's that, so Rome is saved? Rome before Norma!
... Could I love Norma? Heart, my heart, report!
Dost thou beat high when Norma's step is heard?
She comes. (Puts hand on his heart.)
Yes, there 's a throb—another—well—
What means it? Sea unknown! I cannot sound thee!
(Enter Norma from the arbor.)
Nor.
To-night we part. You shall be safely led
Beyond our lines. To-morrow, if we meet,
'T will be in the battle's midst.
Oct.
Recall thy words;
Let us part never, if to meet as foes.
Nor.
Vain thy enchantments now! My dream is ended.
Over my heart, Duty once more supreme
Defies thee and thy arts.
Oct.
My arts?
Nor.
Thy illness—
Was it an honest illness? How transparent
Is its art now, and what a simpleton
Was I to be duped by it!
Oct.
Granting it
An art, in love, I say all arts are honest.
Nor.
I do distrust thy love, and half believe thee
22
But to work ruin to her country. If—
If I knew that—could I but penetrate
Thy secret thought, and find that hateful purpose,
I'd string thee up on yonder blasted oak
As readily as stamp upon this turf. (Tears.)
Oct.
Tut, tut! Thou wouldst not do it.
Nor.
Would not do it?
Oct.
Well, then: I am a spy.
Nor.
I'll not believe it.
Oct.
I knew it would be so.
Fit harbor for a spy a lady's bower
Wherein to learn the enemy's strength and plan!
Since we must part, and part, most like, forever,
And part at once,—O! let me bear away,
Not the remembrance of an angry threat
And a wild frown from Norma—let me rather
Take as her parting testament a smile
Or, better still, a tear. (She weeps.)
The precious token!
She gives it! I'm content. And now, farewell! (Going.)
Nor.
One word. I had been happier, methinks,
Had we ne'er met—and yet I will not blame thee.
Heed not my threat—a flood of tears rebuked it
Almost before 't was uttered. So, forgive me,
And, in thy far-off Rome, 'mid all her splendors,
Her temples, and gay throngs, and festal games,—
Sometimes remember Norma.
Oct.
Needless charge!
Remember? Hast thou not some drug or spell
Will force me to forget her?—for, my peace
Were by oblivion better warranted.
Hear my last plea, if last thy word shall make it.
(Takes her hand—she withdraws it.)
May I not hold it in a parting grasp?
(He takes it again.)
O! 'mid these scenes of war and violence,
These gatherings of rude men, who trade in blood—
Dost thou ne'er dream of a serener fate,
A home for love to nestle in—afar
From human strife and wrong—where wedded hearts
Might every day find fresh felicity
In their own peace, and gratitude to heaven?
I've dreamed of such a lot—and with it came
A sickness of the very soul at tasks
War puts upon us—bidding us go forth
To kill our brother man—to burn and ravage,
23
(Norma withdraws her hand.)
For land, gold, pride, dominion—what you will!
Is it not monstrous? How can duty bind us
To follow such a calling?
Nor.
Ay, 't is monstrous.
But, when for home, for liberty we strive,
Welcome the carnage! With this woman's hand
I'd smite the tyrant would enslave my country.—
Return to Rome, and preach thy doctrine there.
'T is a good doctrine. Heaven speed on the day
When it shall be a law to all the nations!
Oct.
Be not unjust to Rome. Look to the annals
Of thy own country—war her constant state—
Battles on battles, till the clue is lost!
Should Rome retire, some petty neighboring tribe
Would lift the torch of war upon your borders.
Nor.
True, true; it is too true! And I have wept
To think how feeble was my arm to stay
These bloody strifes. Sick too am I of war!
Oct.
And, should you sweep away Rome's present army,
Think you she has no other? Twenty such!
In Rome's protection lies your only hope
Of peace and progress. Rome's capacious arms
Take in as children and free citizens
All who receive the mild yoke of her laws.
Nor.
(Aside.)
This man will make me, heart and brain, a traitor,
If I do listen longer.
Oct.
Peace alone,
With its secured rewards, its industry,
Can lift your plundered and war-ridden people
To social order, freedom, happiness.
Rome can give peace. Norma, give Rome the power!
End, since thou canst, this misery of war—
And then—
Nor.
And then? Go on. I see your object now.
Oct.
And I avow it freely! I would win
Norma for Rome, but chiefly for myself.
And, let the issue be for peace or war,
(Kneels.)
Thus kneeling at her feet, I offer her
A husband's hand—her loving slave forever!
Nor.
(Aside.)
The fearful peril I am in! To hear
Such words from him—without a shudder hear them!
(A trumpet sounds without. Octavian rises.)
Hark! in that note my country summoned me.
24
Which thou hast offered:—lonely, cold, but plain
My way of life before me stretches. Here,
Among my people, humble and uncultured
Although they be, my duty lies.
Oct.
Then here
Be my tent pitched! Grant but my suit of love,
Thy duty shall be mine—thy people mine!
Nor.
Ah! (Covers her face with her hands.)
Impossible. Devoted from my youth,
By pledge paternal, to a virgin life,
The cry of sacrilege would now go forth
Against a change of destiny.
Oct.
The change
May be kept secret. Norma, canst not thou
Sacrifice something, if I give up all?
(She slowly gives him her hand.)
O, gift too precious! Am I not the dupe
Of my wrought senses? No! 'Tis Norma's hand!—
(Puts a ring on her finger.)
This ring shall be an emblem of the circle
Of sacred love I draw around thee now,
Hedging thee in my own, and only mine!
Nor.
(Withdrawing her hand.)
What have I done? Into what darkness plunged?
Roman! if here my divination fails—
If that's not truth that's beaming in thy gaze—
Slay me at once in mercy—for no heart
Could hold the bitter anguish would be mine
Finding thee false.—That smile shall be my answer.
Return now to thy camp. He waits without
Who will conduct thee—whom I'll send for thee
When the time suits.
Oct.
And must the war go on?
Nor.
Rome shall decide; if, as you promise, she
Will give us freedom, not my voice shall be
Longer for war. I see a sunny gleam
On the horizon, breaking through the clouds.
Oct.
Let it expand; for 'tis the harbinger
Of a bright future to us both! Farewell!
[Exit
Nor.
Ay, he spake truly. War on war succeeds,
Let this be ended. Rome can give us peace—
Can give us her own freedom—make us part
Of her own empire.—What a scheme it were
To treat for such a union, and provide
That he should be proconsul—my Octavian!
25
And Druid power extinct—we two might rule
Like watchful benefactors, over Gaul.
O! love's fulfilment and my country's welfare!
Might ye thus join, with what a rosy hope
Life were at once illumined!—Gracious Powers!
Who watch o'er human destinies,—befriend me!
Let not my vanquished heart betray my country—
Let not my country's need claim all my heart!
(As she is entering the arbor, a distant cry is heard.)
Hark! Was it not a shriek—or was it fancy?
A cry of terror—therefore not Octavian's!
It chilled my blood though; and I'll learn its meaning.
[Exit
SCENE III.
A Druidical grove—an altar in the midst. Present, Rudiger, Hagen, and other Druids.Rud.
Not wholly powerless are we to observe
Our ancient Druid rites, and offer up
Other oblations than a wreath of flowers
Unto our country's gods. Proscribed by Rome—
Distrusted by the people and the army—
Humbled by her, who should have been our stay—
Born as she was beneath the sacred shadow
Of our old oaks)—yet are we still the hope,
The life-blood of the nation! Take away
The Druid graft, Britannia gave to Gaul,
And Gaul must perish. This the Roman knows,
And therefore our extinction is his aim.
While Norma urged the war that's poised 'gainst Rome,
'Twas well. She worked our will. But now, for some
Inexplicable cause, she falters in
This opposition, and holds back the army,
That chafes to launch itself against the foe.
Let her beware!—Come! to our country's gods
Now let our ancient rites be once more paid
In the ancient way.
(Enter Norma.)
Druids.
Norma!
Nor.
I interrupt you.
Have I broke in upon your little fête?
Unbind me yonder victim!
Rud.
Do not stir!
Obey not, on your lives.
26
What! Rudiger?
Thou'rt he would have us think that the great gods,—
Weary of their ambrosia,—thirst for blood.
Rud.
Beware! Presume not on thy power too far.
Nor.
Have I not said these orgies shall not be?
I say it now! Release yon struggling wretch,
Whom ye have bound for secret sacrifice,
Or by the Power who made me, ye shall find
Blood shall have blood—the slayer shall be slain!
Am I to be obeyed?
(The Druids whisper among themselves, and gather round Norma.)
Hagen.
Be patient, Norma.
Nor.
I've been too patient with you—failed to use
The means I have to sweep your superstition
From the offended earth. Beware, lest I
Bid Rome make Gaul her own. With Roman power
To back me, there is not the grove so dark
Should hide one Druid murderer from my rage.
Unbind the victim, or ye follow him.
Hagen.
This, Norma, is the Druid's answer.
(He attempts to stab Norma—She throws him off—Ambron rushes in.)
Amb.
Hold! (Norma flies to him.)
Which man will rush on death? Ye grave assassins!
Look at your victim, yonder! He is free!
Ye hardly can outstrip him in his speed.
Would any take his place, why let him linger
Another moment here. So! Are ye gone?
[Exeunt all the Druids
Nor.
Ambron! Deliverer!
Amb.
Desperate as I knew them,
I dreamed not they would lift the violent hand
'Gainst Norma's sacred life.
Nor.
And these are they
For whom we fight! for whose deliverance
From Rome's exterminating threat, this war
(Disguise it as we may) goes on! The scales
Obscure my sight no longer. Shall this be?
Is it to float this Druid dynasty
Gaul's blood must flow?
Amb.
Not mine, if Norma says it!
They would have slain thee! O! most blessëd chance
That brought me timely here. They shall repent it.
My clan will follow me through fire and blood.
Say but the word, and not one Druid altar
Shall be left standing.
27
Leave their punishment
To Rome's strong arm. Let us remain no longer
'Twixt them and Rome. Let us make terms with Rome.
Amb.
Do what thou wilt. I know what Norma does
Has Heaven's approval. Have I not known thee, Norma,
From childhood up, pure, wise, and faithful ever?
Say war or peace, resistance or submission.
Count on my voice and sword to uphold thee still.
Nor.
'Tis well. I go to treat with Rome.
Amb.
Go! Treat with Rome.
[Exeunt together,
END OF ACT II.
ACT III.
Scene I.
—A sumptuous tent belonging to Octavian. Enter from the tent Octavian, who meets Acilius entering the stage fromAcil.
Good morrow to the bridegroom! What a smile
The day puts on to greet you!
Oct.
Ay, it smiles
But not, like us, to ruin. We shall make
A noble woman wretched.
Acil.
Thine the fault then!
After the sacred rite that made you one,
I held discourse with Norma, and to her
Art thou indebted for a scheme that falls
Within my perfect favor: she will use
Her power to make of Gaul a Roman province,
And thou, since I've the power of delegation,
Shalt be proconsul.
Oct.
Proconsul! I proconsul?
O, my dear lord, this tasks my gratitude
Beyond all utterance.
Acil.
Thank thy wife alone.
Oct.
Wife! But that word sounds strangely.
Acil.
Cherish it.
Though, marrying in the service of the state,
Thou canst throw off the yoke, (if yoke it be,)
Yet do I trust, of thy own choice thou wilt
Accept her as thy honorable wife.
Then, ruling her, 'twill be an easy thing
To rule thy province.
Oct.
Yet remember this:
'Tis as a virgin priestess that she sways
The people: let the whisper go abroad
28
Might be upon her track.
Acil.
Then leave to time
The publication: wait till you are stronger,
The people more enlightened: then divulge it.
Oct.
Yet do I fear that stealthy renegade,
Arnulf, the Gaul.
Acil.
We'll pack him off to Rome
Among the prisoners. He's of no more use.
We love the treason, but we hate the traitor.
(Enter Norma from the tent.)
Norma, good morrow! and accept, I pray thee,
A soldier's homage.
Nor.
'Tis a joy to know
That you're my friend.
Acil.
We'll carry out thy scheme;
We'll leave Octavian here to rule in Gaul.
Nor.
And Gaul shall be as free as now she is?
Acil.
Gaul shall be Rome; and we of Italy
Complain provincial Rome is more befriended
Than we the central people.
Nor.
Do not think
I would betray my country. Never! Never!
But merged in Rome she springs to higher life;
No more a camp—a fluctuating tribe—
Rent by intestine broils and border wars—
Open to despot ravage and dominion—
But part of a great nation—part of Rome.
If in these words I show a swift conversion,
And if to love I owe it, do not think
'Tis fixed on aught less firm than my persuasion.
Acil.
I heartily trust thee, lady. Fare thee well.
Prize thy high fortune at its worth, Octavian!
'Tis time our scouts were in. We'll meet anon.
[Exit
Nor.
So soon a dreamer? Whither stray thy thoughts?
Oct.
On to the future, Norma, the fair future!
On to the heights to which thy hand has beckoned—
The heights proconsular!
Nor.
The way is clear;
And, though the Druid faction may oppose,
The people will be with us. Long enough
Has priestly craft degraded them and plundered:
O! we will raise them, liberate, enlighten.
Walking by early light on yonder terrace
29
Surging up from the valley: fold on fold
Rose the thick vapor threatening to obscure
The golden dawn,—yet see the laughing day!
So shall Truth mount, and pour its blazing shafts
Through Error's mist, changing each murky cloud
To a white wreath of glory. We, Octavian,
We will speed on the time shall bring that light.
Oct.
Enthusiast! with thy guidance I shall need
No new Egeria.
Nor.
Ah!
Oct.
What thought was that?
Nor.
If I have lost my gift of divination!
If the clairvoyant vision has departed!
O! then, Octavian, these bright fantasies
Are but the lure to ruin. I must leave you—
At once—before my absence can be noted.
Oct.
I go to see the litter is prepared.
Keep thy brave heart from drooping. Courage, Norma!
Nor.
Ay! 't was a passing mood. Go now.
Oct.
The future
Shall to glad memories turn our present doubts.
[Exit
(Enter Arnulf.)
Arn.
(Aside.)
As I surmised, 't is she! safe in the snare!
How as her lover moves he bears along
Her very soul in fond attendance on him!
O, lady fair! brief—brief shall be thy joy!
At risk of his displeasure I'll accost her.
I'll seize revenge while the brimmed cup is sparkling
Close at my lips,—lest it be dashed away
Forever.— (Approaches her.)
Greeting to the priestess!
Nor.
Ah!
What man art thou?
Arn.
Hast thou forgotten Arnulf?
Come now, I feel the slight.
Nor.
This tone of insult!—
(Goes up and calls.)
Octavian!
Arn.
Hush! Learn but how much thou ow'st me,
Thou'lt patiently attend.
Nor.
For good thou com'st not—
So much my heart assures me. Memory gropes
In vain to join to some past act thy features.
Arn.
An officer of rank among the Arverni
Fell into poverty and debt, for which
The army's tyrant, Ambron, would disgrace him.
30
But she repelled him—sanctioned his abasement—
And gave him up to frenzy.
Nor.
I remember:
But let me tell the tale. An officer,
Bearer of a dead soldier's little store
Of money for that soldier's family,
Staked it at play, and, to the last denarius,
Lost it. But did he labour to redress
The wrong he had inflicted? He ignored it;
Spurned from his pathway the beseeching widow,
Laughed and caroused while those whom he had plundered
Were common beggars. Now the gods pursue me
With every wo, if I not use my power
To reach and deal perdition on the caitiff
Who, trusted with another's means which are
His life, his children's future, perils them
For his own gain or need.—Away with thee!
Arn.
O! I've not told thee half.
Nor.
And thou hast added
Desertion to thy other baseness. Why
Do I behold thee here in the enemy's camp?
Arn.
Why do I see thee here?
Nor.
Slave! I am Norma—
High priestess, and accountable to none
Of mortal mould.
Arn.
And yet, methinks, a priestess,
Pledged to a vestal life, who seeks a husband
Within the enemy's lines—Ah! Not at random
Was that shaft sent!
Nor.
(Dismayed, goes up and calls.)
Octavian!
Arn.
Wilt thou lose
The best of all I have in store for thee?
I spake of what thou owest me; thus it is:
My instigation sent yon charming youth
To play the lover—cheat thee of thy heart—
And crown thy treasonous passion with a marriage.
A marriage! A mere stratagem of war!
Binding while state necessity may prompt,
Then—flax in the fire! Rome's object was to gain
Time to ward off the battle thou wert urging,
Till her new levies should arrive.
Nor.
Ah no!
'Twas not a plot! Only thy base construction
Would wrench it that way.
Arn.
'Twas my plot, I tell thee—
31
And ask, are we not quits?
Nor.
Thy plot! 'Tis well.
I thank thee for the assurance, as it takes
The blame from one whose honor word of thine
Should have been impotent to cast a doubt on.
Arn.
'Tis pity from thy refuge of delusion
To drive thee thus; but know, the Roman scouts
Are in, and bring report, a reënforcement
Is near at hand. Rome asks no more delay;
(Enter Octavian from the tent.)
And Norma, who has used her potency
To ruin Gaul—Rome's purpose being served—
Is now in the enemy's hands a prisoner,
And soon shall be the common scoff of the camp.
Oct.
(With drawn sword.)
Out, renegade!—I'll not profane my sword
With thy foul blood.—O! gentle wife, forgive me
That thou wert so unhedged by care of mine
Such rude accost befell thee.
Nor.
But I knew
'Twas false—false—false, Octavian. Sheathe thy sword.
Nay, thou shalt not so soon resist me. Sheathe it. (He obeys.)
Arn.
(Aside.)
Caresses! Blandishments! As I do live,
Both are enamored! O, the yielding fool!
The shallow milksop! In his own noose caught!
And, after all my diligence of hate,
Have I so blundered that my enemy
Finds the bright crown of her felicity
Wrought from the deadly substance of my curse?
Oct.
And didst thou think to make me the blind tool
Of thy revenge?—Against a woman, too?
A prisoner she? Thou liest! Unfaithful I?
Again thou liest!
Arn.
The end's not yet, my lord.
The time may come—
Oct.
If thou canst bring it—ay!
We'll circumscribe thy means.
(Beckons off. Enter Soldiers, who arrest Arnulf.)
The air of Rome
Shall ventilate thy temper till 'tis sweeter.
Arn.
Rome! Well, dear friends, should we ne'er meet again,—
Oct.
We shall not languish. No more words! Away!
[Exeunt Arnulf and Soldiers.
Nor.
Alas! that hate should be as strong almost—
32
Attainment but makes stronger.
Oct.
And more strong!
Come, Norma, all is ready for thy journey.
I'll walk beside thy litter to the outposts,
And we'll discuss the future. True it is
An army of assistance is approaching.
Nor.
Therefore shall it be easier to make peace,
And give to Gaul a ruler in Octavian.
Oct.
Who shall owe all—all to the hand beloved!
[Exeunt
SCENE II.
A field. Enter to music Rudiger and Druids—Adalgisa and Women—Gontran and Soldiers.Gont.
Soldiers, our Druid fathers have convoked us,
To offer weighty cause why instant battle
Should against Rome be hurled—why your chief, Ambron,
Should be deposed, and Norma no more heeded.
Rud.
Time was, the Druid need not have stood forth
To show why his monitions should prevail.
But we are here for action. Briefly then:
Why is not Norma present? Why has her
Loud, eloquent cry for war sunk all at once
To pleadings for delay? This may enlighten:
Yesterday she was tracked to the enemy's outposts.
Men of Gaul, we're betrayed. She tampers with
The Roman—and is even now, perchance,
Haggling upon the price which he shall pay her
For Gaul's enslavement. Ask ye proof of this?
Her threat to us! Her absence from this meeting!
And Ambron—where is he?
(Enter Ambron.)
Amb.
Who summons Ambron?
Rud.
Behold him, pledged to follow Norma's bidding—
No matter where it lead—to war or peace—
Fidelity or treason! Ask you why
Ambron is thus devoted? Other thoughts
Than reverence for her office mingle with
His zeal in Norma's service—nor is she
Slow to requite his kindness.
Amb.
Slandering dotard!
I had borne all but that! Not thy gray hairs
Shall shield thee from my fury.
Gont.
(Interposing.)
Nay!
33
I thank thee.
Age be his shield!—Soldiers, hear me proclaim
The crime of Norma. She has even dared
Say to these remnants of old wickedness.
In your detested rites venture to shed
The sacred human blood, and yours shall flow.
They were but yesterday detected by her
In disobedience. With indignant words
She bade them loose their victim. They, enraged,
And, thinking by one blow to feed their grudge
And reinstate their stripped authority,
Favored the act of one, who drew his dagger
And rushed upon the priestess. She repelled him.
And I came timely in to rescue her
From the assassins. (Sensation among the Soldiers.)
Rud.
And the act of one.
Unauthorized, uncountenanced, he brings
Against us all! But does the tale disprove
Our charge of treason? Where this while is Norma?
She knows the charge is true. She will not venture
To reäppear before you.
Amb.
She is here!
(Enter Norma.)
Nor.
I bring you peace, my country, peace and freedom.
Rud.
Whence? We may doubt the gift, knowing the giver.
Nor.
Rudiger, I salute you. When we met
Last, 'twas a sharp response ye tendered me.
Whence bring I peace? From Rome who brings the war!
Rud.
So! As I told you, soldiers! She has been
Bargaining with the enemy.
Nor.
And why not?
What will ye fight for, soldiers, should the war
Go on? For Druid empire—human sacrifices—
Assassination, perjury, and plunder.
At length the mist before my eyes is scattered.
The Druids have deceived us—falsely charged
'Gainst Rome, intents she never harbored. Come!
Abandon this poor, tottering Druid system,
Effete and doting, and Rome asks no more!
Was it not time I bargained with the Roman
When these men sought my life; ay, would have had it
But for the noble Ambron!
(Cries of “Down with the Druids! Down! Down with them!”)
34
Let them retire unharmed, but be henceforth
Druids no more, but common men. Ye will it!
And so (revivers of the impossible past!)
Depart forthwith, nor dare to abuse our mercy.
(Druids, all but Rudiger, Exeunt.)
Rud.
While thrives the oak, the Druid shall survive.
[Exit
Nor.
Then, to be free, my countrymen, we must
Be part of the mighty empire—part of Rome!
Rome offers her adoption—her protection—
Her roads—her fortresses—her means of plenty—
And to the soldiers, who will join her army,
Double their present pay—the officers,
Their present rank, with prospect of promotion.
Ye have the offer. Shall it be accepted?
Egbert.
Ay, soldiers, ay! The thing for us—for Gaul!
(Cries of ay! from the soldiers.)
Nor.
Then go, give signal to the enemy—
To our friends, brothers, rather—of the issue—
And with them interchange a soldier's hug.
(Music and cries. Exeunt all but Norma and Ambron. The latter, when all have gone out, drops his sword. Norma picks it up and hands it to him.)
Nor.
Thou hast dropped thy sword.
Amb.
I've no more need of it.
Nor.
Then thank the gods and give it to its scabbard
Against the time of need.
Amb.
(Receives and puts up sword.)
O, Norma! Norma!
Thou hast transformed me wholly. I who held
In this right hand the destiny of Gaul,—
Who hated peace as sailors do a calm—
I now give up my power, as 'twere a bauble
I had outgrown.
Nor.
A noble sacrifice!
Amb.
Of no true nobleness the change is bred.
Self, self, and always self, the only motive!
O! be thou here the prophetess, and read
What my tongue dare not utter.
Nor.
Speak.
Amb.
I love.
I know there's profanation in this madness,
But Druid rigor now is at an end
And thou art free.
Nor.
Free, Ambron? I am bound
In fetters past release. I am a wife.
Amb.
A wife!
35
A secret this, my more than brother!
Amb.
One that more crushes than a battle lost.
And yet, even here I trust thee. Who's thy husband?
Nor.
A Roman chief—Octavian—soon to be
Proconsul here.
Amb.
A Roman! A proconsul!
How—why—I see it all! Heroic Norma!
You wed Gaul's ruler, to secure Gaul's welfare.
Nor.
That hope, methinks, was foremost; yet it was not
Unpaired with love such as a wife should bring.
Amb.
Felicity attend thee! May the gods
Shower their selectest blessings on you both.
Thou hast been much to me—hast made my life
From contact with thine own more rich and sacred;
So that my present sorrow seemeth better
Than all the ignorant joy of former years.
Dost thou remember what a mere barbarian,
Rude in attire, in speech, in superstition,
I was when first thou took'st me into training,
Shaped my chaotic thoughts, my ruffian passions,
By forms and intuitions of thine own,
Till the rough savage grew to be a man
And the brute life obedient to a higher?
Now, must I lose my teacher?
Nor.
No. Why shouldst thou?
Stay with us; still our army's honored chief.
Amb.
It cannot be. Among the mountains dwells
My sire, a gray-haired peasant, with his flocks.
Him I rejoin, to find in scenes of beauty
And simple occupations (thanks to thee!)
Contentment that in war and power abides not.
Farewell! But should the dark hour overtake thee—
Should grief, disaster, reach or threaten thee,
Then call on Ambron! He will keep the sword
Thou didst restore. Farewell!
Nor.
Go, noble friend!
We shall recall thee, soon; though not, I trust,
At prompting of misfortune.
Amb.
So I trust.
[Exit
(Shouts from without.)
Nor.
Those shouts proclaim the meeting of the armies.
Met, not in homicidal wrath, to stain
The turf with carnage—but as brothers meet.
Shout on! ye lift my heart up—higher—higher!
Octavian must be there—my husband! Soon,
Proconsul over Gaul! Joy, Norma, joy!
[Exit
36
SCENE III.
A Grove. Enter Adalgisa and Bertha.Ber.
I shall miss all the show.
Adal.
Return, then, Bertha.
Ber.
A precious coward to fly because a soldier
Chanced to stare at thee—such a soldier, too!
Some chief of rank, be sure, among the Romans.
He looked as he had cause to win some glance
Of recognition from thee. Hast thou met him
Ever before?
Adal.
Met him before? How could I?
Ber.
That know I not. This know I, Adalgisa,
Eyes had he only for thyself of all
Our white-robed company—an oversight
Quite unaccountable, my dear, since I
Stood nearer to him by some two or three.
Adal.
'Tis not for us to court such glances, Bertha;
Our safety lies in flight.
Ber.
To be quite candid,
I'd rather not be safe when such the danger.
But look thro' the leaves. A line of burnished armor
Is flowing, glittering, like a sunlit river
By the grove's border. I can stay no longer.
[Exit
Adal.
Ay, it was he. Too well do I remember
That eager glance—those features. Brief our meeting—
But memories for a life-time followed it.
Few were his words; but how like melodies
They haunt my soul, and go before my prayers.
And now he's here again—here as a friend—
And he has seen me—marked me;—but my duty
Lies plain before me, and I thus pursue it.
(Going.)
Till his departure from the land, seclusion
Must keep me from his sight.—'Tis he again!
(Enter Octavian.)
Oct.
Do not avoid me. We have met before.
Adal.
Good reason why we should not meet again.
Let me pass on.
Oct.
Fair saint, 'twere irreligion
To let thee pass, receiving from the gazer
No word of adoration.
When thou didst quit thy cluster of fair women,
I was bereft even as the earth might be
Should the moon vanish 'mid attending planets,
And rob the night of glory.
37
Why detain me?
Oct.
To get the assurance you again will meet me.
For so much beauty taken from my life,
Would leave it ugly and unprofitable.
Adal.
I cannot grant it. Danger to thyself
And me, were in the act.
Oct.
Believe it not.
The power supreme of Gaul rests now in me.
Adal.
Ah! The proconsul?
Oct.
None the less thy slave.
Adal.
Whate'er thy power, still Norma's will must be
The law for us.
Oct.
(Aside.)
Norma! That name recalls
My errant duty. Shame on thee, Octavian!
(To Adal.)
Go! If thou'lt bar my looking on thy face
Ever again, thou wilt have served me better
Than if thou hadst snatched me from captivity—
Saved me from the terriblest strait that ever man
Was thrown into by passion. There 's a peril,
I tell thee, in thy looks, while thou dost linger,
To which the thick of the battle, plague and tempest,
Are innocent of danger.
Adal.
Fare thee well.
(She moves away, turns, and he goes towards her.)
Oct.
That last look swept before it every scruple.
(Taking her hand.)
Promise thou 'lt meet me as I asked.
Adal.
I cannot.
Oct.
Promise, or I will hold thee with a grasp
Inseverable as fate.
Adal.
Some one approaches.
Oct.
I care not. Promise.
Adal.
Let me go. I promise.
(Enter Ambron [illeg.] in simple costume.)
Amb.
Release her, Roman!
[Adalgisa breaks away, and exit.
Thou art ignorant,
'T would seem, of Gallic manners.
Oct.
Teach me them.
Amb.
Never detain with an ungentle grasp
A woman who would fly thee.
Oct.
In return
I'll teach thee something of our Roman code:
Never so misinterpret woman's coyness
As to impute to any man, not quite
A clown, unworthy rudeness.
38
I beheld her
Struggling to unloose thy hold.
Oct.
What if she struggled
Half willing to be vanquished?
Amb.
Profanation
Is in the thought. No vestal more renowned
Than she for sanctity! Thy intimation
Covers a hideous slander.
Oct.
Slander?
Amb.
Ay!
Wilt have a plainer word.
Oct.
Little thou know'st
To whom thou'rt speaking.
Amb.
Little know or care!
Think'st thou I learn my hearer's quality
Before I speak a truth?
Oct.
Remember, this
Is now provincial Rome.
Amb.
A rare beginning—
To persecute a dedicated maiden
With base advances.
Oct.
Base!
Amb.
I said it. Base!
Be wiser for the future, or thou'lt find
That Rome's dominion will be overturned
As suddenly as set up. And so, take heed! (Going.)
Oct.
Stay! Since thy lecture is complete, hear mine.
We have a way in Rome of teaching such
As thou art, when the tongue is too unruly,
A wholesome discipline with blows—and so
Conduct thyself accordingly.
Amb.
Indeed!
And when a low-born fellow like myself
Raises his voice, or fails to duck his head
In thy high presence, thou wilt—
Oct.
Have him whipped!
(Ambron laughs in his face. Octavian puts his hand on his sword.)
Amb.
Nay, don't be frightened by a Gallic laugh.
We'll have no bloodshed. 'T would profane the occasion.
Oct.
Insolent! When thou know'st who 'tis thou tauntest—
Amb.
Wert thou the emperor, he who would insult
The common soldier, or the common peasant,
Is a common fool.
Oct.
(Draws.)
Draw, villain! Let me see
If thou canst thrust as well with steel as speech.
39
Thou'rt a laggard with thy weapon.
Amb.
(Aside, and half drawing.)
I'll not harm him.
Oct.
Come! Should I leave thee wounded on the ground,
Tell those who come to aid thee, that Octavian,
Proconsul, punished thee for disrespect.
Amb.
(Aside.)
Octavian! Norma's husband! And already
False—in intent at least. O, wretched woman!
What wo is in thy future!
Oct.
(Aside.)
So! The name
Has stunned him. He shall fight, though.
Amb.
(Aside.)
I could slay him
Now with a will. (Half draws.)
I'll do it—rescue Norma
From pangs in store through him—No, Ambron, no!
She loves him. That shall make each hair of his head
Sacred, although he spurn me.
To fly temptation, I must fly the encounter.
(To Octavian.)
I shall not fight thee.
Oct.
What if I call thee coward?
Amb.
Thou'lt have had
Some cause.
Oct.
What if I smite thee?
Amb.
'T will be a new sensation, and I cannot
Foretell the effect.
Oct.
Gaul, thou hast angered me
As no man ever dared, and now refusest
To fight me—Yet I will not call thee coward,
For such I cannot hold thee; and I see
It is not fear that sways thee. (Puts up his sword.)
There! thy act
Has been like water to my rage. We both
Have said what should exasperate the other.
Exchange forgiveness. (Offers his hand.)
Amb.
(Aside.)
Generous, too, as brave!
There's hope. (Takes Octavian's hand.)
No longer as thy enemy,
But as thy friend, Octavian, because Norma's,
(Start not—I know it all!) let me appeal
To what there is of goodness in thy nature,
Faithfully—
Oct.
Hush! She comes; and not alone.
(Enter hastily Norma and Adalgisa.)
Nor.
(To Adal.)
In anger? Foolish girl! They're met in friendship. (She dismisses her. Exit Adalgisa.)
My husband!
Oct.
Hush! Should some one overhear thee!
40
But this is Ambron, who knows all.
Oct.
This Ambron?
Sir, I can prize true nobleness. Your hand!
(Aside to him.)
And let the past be cancelled.
Amb.
(Aside to Oct.)
And the future
Be pledged to Norma wholly.
Nor.
'T is the sight
I most have longed for—Ambron and Octavian
With hands in friendly clasp! Come, ye are missed,
Both, from the pageant.
Oct.
Go! I'll follow thee.
[Exit Norma.
Precede me, noble Ambron. Go with Norma.
(Exit Ambron. Octavian looks off in the direction of Adalgisa's departure. Reënter Ambron.)
Amb.
Nay, let us go together.
Oct.
(Giving his hand which Ambron takes.)
Be it so!
[Exeunt.
END OF ACT III.
ACT IV.
Scene I.
—Exterior of the Proconsul's Palace. Steps leading to it. Enter Rudiger, disguised as a beggar.Rud.
How long, ye awful deities, how long
Must this breast hide th' impatience of its beatings
Under these squalid rags, while here in triumph
Your enemy and mine, the hated Roman.
Resides in sumptuous state?—Or, is the Druid
Indeed a thing of the past, and his religion,
His ancient lore traditional (recorded
Only in faithful memories)—is it now
No longer the salt of the earth, the truth supreme,
But a detested fable, never more
To win belief from men? It cannot be!
The gods who gave the truth will yet avenge it.
To this rock have I clung though storms have beat
Upon this aged head, and though I've been
Abandoned solitary to their rage,
And darkness has involved me,—here I've clung,
And here will cling forever, in the faith
My fathers gave me, and which death itself
Shall not have power to vanquish or to shake.
41
Arn.
That form—that gait—I cannot be mistaken.
Old man, why turn from me?
Rud.
I know you not.
Arn.
But I know you—th' Arch Druid—Rudiger.
Rud.
And you? the renegade, Arnulf!
Arn.
Not so loud!
That's the proconsul's palace. Like yourself
Am I proscribed. We'll keep each other's secret.
They thought to hold me prisoner at Rome—
But I escaped amid a popular riot
Just as we entered the imperial city;
And I am here to help you put an end
To this fair state of things. And first, of Norma.
Rud.
Ah! but for her the Roman power in Gaul
Could be laid low to-morrow.
Arn.
Not a week
Returned, more have I done than all your Druids
In their own cause.
Rud.
Explain.
Arn.
First learn that Norma
Is the proconsul's wife.
Rud.
Norma! unfaithful
To that paternal dedication which
Pledged her a vestal priestess!—I'll proclaim it
To all the people—rouse their fury—send them
To burn and sack the Roman's palace—then
Consign her to the penalty prescribed
For such offenders.
Arn.
Wild—impracticable!
What care the people for your Druid laws?
Norma has but to claim from all the gods
(I beg their pardon—I forget their number)
A special vision abrogating all
Her virgin pledges, and commanding her
To wed Octavian, and the fatuous people
Will ratify the union with huzzas.
Be this your secret for the present.
Rud.
Well.
But should the power return, let her beware!
What wouldst thou do?
Arn.
What I have done is this:
Invoked the demon of domestic discord!
Long since, this dolt, Octavian, was becrazed
By the soft glances of a maid attendant
Upon the temple's service, Adalgisa.
42
By her seclusion, have I brought together
(How, when, and where, no matter) thro' one Bertha;
And the old flame now threatens to break forth
With added fury.
Rud.
But 't is sacrilege!
Arn.
(Aside.)
The duper his own dupe! Sacrilege truly!
(To Rud.)
Pshaw! What of that, so we inveigle Norma
To her own ruin—rend the tie that binds her
To the proud Roman—make her rouse the people
In your behalf—then leave her to be dealt with
(When all is won) after your gentle fashion?
Rud.
This must be thought of. You've gone deep, I see,
Into the possibilities.
Arn.
I'll show
Cause for reliance. On! We're interrupted.
(Looking off.)
Otho, the Roman knight, with an attendant,
Post-haste most like from Rome! There must be news.
(Exeunt Rudiger and Arnulf. Enter Otho and Marcus.)
Otho.
(To Marcus.)
See that our horses are provided for,
Then be within my summons at the palace.
(Exit Marcus. Enter Servant from the palace.)
Otho.
Is the proconsul stirring?
Servant.
He approaches.
(Exit Servant. Enter Octavian.)
Oct.
Otho! my friend! What could be more unlooked for
Than to see you in Gaul?
(Enter Arnulf, who listens a moment, then exit.)
Otho.
I bring the news
Of your recall. Rome wants you nearer home.
(Gives him a scroll.)
This from the emperor!
Oct.
(After reading.)
Recalled with honor.
An intimation, too, of something higher!—
Now shall I smile or frown at this discharge?
It does not take effect till my successor
Is on the spot.
Otho.
Him you may look for daily.
Is it ill news? Dejected? Can it be
Octavian, once the courted, the caressed
By the high dames of Rome, I see content
To bury in provincial privacy
Endowments due to the metropolis?
43
Jingle your gewgaws in the ears of boys.
Have you forgotten that I'm married? Hush!
'Tis still a secret.
Otho.
(Laughing.)
Ay, I had forgotten;
Or rather counted on your constancy
As on the west wind's blowing. Pardon me;
Your spouse must be a paragon indeed
To've kept you stable. But I've made you serious.
Oct.
O! speak of her with reverent admiration,
The brave, the gentle, the magnanimous,
The faithful Norma!
Otho.
There's a sequel to
That rhapsody.
Oct.
There is. Before I met her,
I had seen Adalgisa, and my heart
Is constant to that vision.
Otho.
(Laughs.)
Constancy
Is then thy failing here! Thou art too constant!
Oct.
When state necessity induced this marriage,
I struggled (and still struggle) to subdue
All memory of that other; but of late
The sight of her in all her loveliness,
Revives the dangerous transport, and when you
Told me of my recall, the coward thought
Shot through my brain, now can I fly with her,
Forsaking Norma.
Otho.
And does she—does Norma
Suspect your dereliction?
Oct.
No; the thought
Would come to her as the tornado comes
When you can see no cloud.
Otho.
A little rain,
A flash or two perhaps, and all is over.
Be not alarmed. I have myself inflicted
Some such surprises in my day, and found
A strange capacity of convalescence
In women being so wounded.
Oct.
(Aside.)
Ay, by you!
Otho.
Here is my counsel now: abandon both!
No? Then select the younger and the prettier—
In short, the one you fancy.
Oct.
I am pulled
By passion and by duty different ways.
O! like a strong man take me in the arms
Of a strong will, and carry me perforce
The way of right—for tho' 'tis plain before me,
My will is wavering, and my flesh is weak.
44
Come then, it shall be Norma; for possession
Gives her the prior claim.
Oct.
But Adalgisa—
When she finds him she trusted in, a traitor—
Otho.
Well! you must be that either way. What's left?
The women both are fair, and both in love.
What if you take them both?
Oct.
You only sport
With my distress.
Otho.
Pardon an old campaigner.
Who never gave such trifles serious thought.—
Looking off.
Who is that stately woman in the veil,
Pacing yon garden walk?
Oct.
'Tis she! 'Tis Norma!
Now, Otho, would you see the veriest coward,
Look upon Rome's proconsul.
Otho.
(Going.)
Look on me!
Retreating panic-stricken from the danger
And leaving the wounded in the enemy's hands.
Oct.
Go in, and order all things as becomes
Octavian's guest.
Otho.
Looking off.
She lifts her veil. Octavian—
I say—I'd rather be where thunderbolts
Are falling thick, than, having wronged, confront her.
[Exit into the palace.
Oct:
What! shall this heart, that fluttered not to rush.
On the Sicambrian phalanx, sink and cower
Before a woman?—Ah! it is not she—
'Tis not the gloom and lightning of those eyes
That thus abashes—'tis the sickened conscience
Shuddering at wrongs which passion meditates.
(Enter Norma.)
Nor:
(Approaching to caress him.)
Octavian!
Oct.
Hold! not here in the public eye!
Nor:
The time has come when without fear we may
Proclaim our union.
Oct:
O, not yet, not yet!
Nor:
This separation from thee for long hours—
This seeing thee by stealth when I do see thee—
Is irksome and should end.
Oct:
And soon it shall.
We'll talk of it tomorrow.
Nor:
Well, tomorrow.
What troubles thee?
Oct:
Affairs of state. No more.
Nor:
Not so! I know the cause.
45
Thou know'st the cause?
Nor.
Why this alarm if 'tis affairs of state?
Oct.
(Aside.)
Knows she?
Nor.
Come, be an honest husband—tell me—
Even though it be to my disquiet—tell me!
For 'twixt us, candor should be so complete
That not a quickened heart-beat should be felt
By one and not reported to the other.
Oct.
My heart beats placidly.
Nor.
(Putting forth her hand.)
That let me test.
How? Dost thou shrink?
Oct.
Not here!
Nor.
Why art thou troubled?
Oct.
Why ask me, if thou knowest?
Nor.
For I'd have it
From thy own lips in full sincerity,
Even though to spare me pain thou keep'st it back.
But do not fear for that. The pain is over—
All that the news could give!
Oct.
(Aside.)
What does she mean?
Nor.
Who was the stranger, on whose parting heels
I came but now?
Oct.
An officer from Rome.
Nor.
What message brought he?
Oct.
Message?
Nor.
I will tell you:
You are recalled: you fear the news will be
A blow to Norma: therein lies your trouble.
Were you so tender of my reckoned grief
You dared not tell me this? Did you distrust
My readiness to quit home, country, people,
For thy dear sake? Ah! 'tis no sacrifice
To love like mine—rather a joy to show thee
How prompt, how faithful, how uncalculating
Its action is.
Oct.
(Aside.)
So! she knows nothing more.
(To Norma.)
Think of the journey's dangers.
Nor.
Thou wilt meet them!
Why should not I? In thy sweet company
Dangers shall not affright—hardships shall wear
An ever smiling front. Should duty lead thee
To rugged climes of everlasting snow.
Or to those regions, courted by the sun.
Where reptile life is rank, and beasts of prey
Lurk in the torrid swamps, would I not go
With thee, watch by thee, wert thou ill or wounded.
46
Befalling thee, to be a constant sharer?
Indeed I would!
Oct.
(Aside.)
On, on, and thou'lt prevail!
(To her.)
But there are ties detaining thee in Gaul—
Public and pious ties, forsaking which,
Regret will sting.
Nor.
Regret—while thou art kind?
Ties?—O! what ties can have the sanctity
Of those the promise of a wife takes in,
Binding her to that circle of attraction
Which is her husband's sphere of love and duty?
Was it with half a heart I wedded thee,
Keeping the other for a round of thoughts
And occupations, that to thee pertained not?
No! The true wife must be her husband's wholly.
And there's a magic in her fast affection,
Exalts even homeliest drudgery to an act
Of queenly moment—finds a recompense,
Richer than wealth could compass, in a smile!
Establishes a palace of content
In a pure heart, let outward circumstance
Frown as it may, and makes her happiness
O'erflow in loving and in being beloved!
Ah! even the service of the gods grows irksome.
Compared with thine—my pray'rs all follow thee.
If still I hold my station in the temple
'Tis but to meet thy wish; and my release
From all that can abridge a wife's devotion,
Will be a joyful freedom.
Oct.
(Aside.)
She prevails.
And makes my intent seem hateful. (To her.)
We will go
Together, Norma. With thee ever near
I shall be strong. To-night I'll visit thee,
And we'll decide upon an instant course
Touching the proclamation of our marriage.
Nor.
Wilt thou come early? My expecting moments
Lag wearily, and bring a troop of fancies,
That make my heart their sport, presenting thee
In all varieties of danger, till,
Sick of their conjurations, I rush forth
Into the night to find thee.
Oct.
Thou shalt be
Requited in the future.
Nor.
The requital
Comes when we meet. Remember!
47
I'll not fail.
[Exit Norma
So shall it be!
And I will shun, as I would mortal danger,
Another interview with Adalgisa.
Why not proclaim at once my marriage? That
Will terminate temptation!
(Enter Arnulf and Adalgisa.)
Arn.
There you see him,
Nursing his grief, torn by despairing thoughts.
He flies from Gaul—abandons every hope—
Because of thy rejection—that he may,
In distant scenes, o'ercome his unrequited,
His fatal passion. He has planned to go,
Taking no leave, shunning the sight of thee.
O! give him, for content in future years,
One parting word, if not of love, of kindness.
[Exit
Adal.
Yes, prudence shall not bar that poor return.
Oct.
Ha! Adalgisa! Now the gods bear witness,
Thee, of all human objects I would shun!
Yet here thou com'st with thy imploring eyes
And gaze of innocent wonder, to undo me
And fool to ruin. Hence! thou sorcery! hence!
Or I shall grow to hate thee.—Nay, forgive me;
But, go! in mercy, leave me! Let me not
Hear those soft tones, or see that face again.
Remorse and shame, despair and death are in them!
(Exit Adalgisa.)
Gone! (Calls.)
Adalgisa! (She reënters.)
Dost thou leave in anger?
Adal.
Anger? O, no! Obeying, I believed
'T was thy heart's wisdom spake—and so, 't was well
That we should part forever, and in silence.
Oct.
Forever?
Adal.
Thou wilt leave us.
Oct.
Thou didst know it,
And yet couldst part so calmly?
Adal.
Ay; so calmly.
'T is the calm grief abideth.
Oct.
Thou wilt grieve?
Adal.
'T is probable.
Oct.
O! perfect in thy art!
Now dost thou know, that hadst thou come with signs
Of anguish, hair dishevelled, streaming eyes,
Speech-breaking sobs and accents of upbraiding,
I had been disenchanted—thou hadst lost me!
48
Kindlest my fire with ice: but thou shalt fail—
I'm not the dupe thou look'st for.
Adal.
Peace be with thee!
Farewell! (Going.)
Oct.
Stay! Whither goest thou?
Adal.
To the temple—
Whence I should ne'er have wandered.
Oct.
To the temple!
With all the lustre of thy youth about thee
To sink into its gloom!—'T is Fate waylays me,
And in his fierce and unrelenting grasp
Bears me along! Why wrestle with him further
Since I at last must yield?
Adal.
My lord, farewell!
Oct.
Thou shalt not leave me. Thou shalt go with me
To Rome—there be my honored wife.
Adal.
To Rome?
Oct.
Ay! Thither I return tomorrow—now—
Soon as my equipage is ready! Come!
Thou shalt be my companion. We will make
The journey short; and I will watch thy litter
As parent eagles do their nest. Delay
Is fraught with danger. Come! Thou dost refuse?
Dost calculate? Thou lov'st me not!
Adal.
Too well!
Or I were not so tempted.—But the vow
That binds me to the temple—
Oct.
Wert thou bound
By chains of tested steel, love's flame should melt them!
And still thou waverest?
Adal.
Norma can release me.
Oct.
Norma! Fly rather to the end of the earth
Than seek for such release.
Adal.
Do what thou wilt!
I'll go with thee.
Oct.
'T is bravely said. Prepare!
An hour hence, meet me in yon garden walk
Ready for flight. A host of things press on me,
Claiming despatch. The reasons for this speed
Are vital. Trust me for them. Be discreet,
[Exit Adalgisa
'T is the irrevocable die! Now, Norma,
One word to keep thee quiet—then for Rome!
[Exit
49
Adal.
My lord Octavian! Gone? He thought of Norma
As of a harsh, unsympathizing mistress.
That is she not. My hope is, she'll absolve me
From my religious vows. 'T were to defy
The gods, and bring perhaps their persecution
On me and him, should I forsake their service
In an unsanctioned haste.—Norma shall have
My confidence—and speed me with her blessing!
[Exit
SCENE II.
An apartment in Norma's house. Chairs placed for two. Enter Norma and Bertha.Nor.
Now, girl, thy story. (Sits.)
Why this mystery?
Ber.
Are we not overheard?
Nor.
That risk be mine!
Ber.
No tale-bearer am I; but, when a maid,
Pledged to the temple's service, strays so far
From duty as to listen to a man
Protesting love, 'tis time for me to speak—
That you'll allow.
Nor.
Well.
Ber.
Adalgisa, lady—
Nor.
What of her?
Ber.
She's the culprit. She's in love.
Nor.
Is't true? Poor thing!
Ber.
(Aside.)
Poor thing? And is that all?
Won't she be hung, or burnt, or drowned in a sack?
Poor thing! I'll fall in love myself to-morrow.
I've had temptations—quite enough of them—
As well as other folks—I'm no more marble
Nor snow than they—but honest flesh and blood.
Poor thing indeed!
Nor.
What art thou muttering, girl?
Ber.
Only a pray'r that you'll be merciful
To Adalgisa. Must she die?
Nor.
The day
Is gone when such offence could be so punished.
Under the Druid rule it might have been.
Ber.
But she'll be scourged?
Nor.
When wert thou privileged
To question my intents; and how art thou
Concerned to know her punishment?
50
(Aside.)
I would know
If 't will be such as I could bear.
Nor.
Her fault
Is doubled by concealment. Canst thou tell me
What man has dared address her?
Ber.
That is what
Will most amaze you, seeing that Adalgisa
Is no way notable for sense or beauty,
But quite inferior in both to many
Of her associates. Then she has no style—
No—I cannot describe it—loftiness
Of manner, which we some have.
Nor.
Cease thy prating.
Tell me her lover's name.
Ber.
You'll be—
(Enter Adalgisa.)
Nor.
But here
She comes to answer for herself. (To Bertha.)
Begone.
Ber.
(Aside.)
“Poor thing!” Mayhap, I'll be a poor thing, too!
[Exit
Nor.
(Aside.)
She's mute with apprehension. How can I
Rebuke her, needing as I do myself
An equal exculpation? (To her.)
Adalgisa,
Draw near—be seated—I have heard thy story. (Adal. sits.)
Adal.
And have no anger for me—no reproaches?
But how—but when—what have you heard?
Nor.
That thou
Hast dared to hold discourse with one who urges
A lover's suit.
Adal.
O! let me tell you all.
He has my word to fly with him this day.
Nor.
Imprudent! And thou'st ventured—
Adal.
(Kneels.)
Could you know
With what renewals of thick-coming tears,
What vigils, supplications, I have striven
To root from my heart the passion driving me
To this conclusion, you'd be pitiful,
Perchance would pardon.
Nor.
(Aside.)
So did I contend—
So yield! I almost feel the same wild throbs
That then made tumult here. I almost see
Him at my feet again, and hear his voice—
His music-shaming voice—that pleaded so
That I relented and surrendered all—
A cheap exchange for love.
51
Dismiss me not
Unpardoned, unreleased.
Nor.
Have all thy wish.
I pardon; I release thee with this kiss
Upon thy brow from all there is of bondage
In thy religious state.
Adal.
(Rises.)
O! joyful freedom!
Without a crime now can I love and be
Beloved. O! Norma, you so pure, so true,
In your self-abnegation, your adhesion
To vestal sanctity, say, how can you
Have such quick sympathy with one whose weakness
Could not withstand her first, her only trial?
Nor.
Norma claims no preëminent exemption
From human frailty, girl; the strongest of us
May one day find that her security
Is based on air. But come, thou hast not told me
Aught of thy lover.
Adal.
'T was no outside bravery
That won me first, but words that found their way
Straight to the heart—uplifting it and showing
Affinity with all in thought and deed
That we can best admire in our best moods.
Nor.
(Aside.)
Such was the path my own affections followed.
(To her.)
Who spake such words?
Adal.
No countryman.
Nor.
A Roman?
(Enter Octavian.)
Adal.
Behold him here!
Nor.
(Rising.)
Octavian!
Oct.
(Aside.)
All is ruined!
Nor.
Girl! Do thy wits wander? He thy lover? He?
Thou must be blinded. Look again. (Laughs.)
Octavian,
What a mistake!
Adal.
'T is he! no other, Norma.
Nor.
Idiot! he—he thy lover? Wilt thou mock me?
Octavian, undeceive her with thy voice.
Adal.
It is the truth.
Nor.
The truth? Audacious wanton!
Never was lie blacker begot in hell.
Hear him with but a word transfix it such,
And make thy crazy freak matter for scorn.
Speak it, Octavian!
Oct.
Leave us, Adalgisa. (She is going.)
Nor.
Stay, girl!
52
I charge thee, go!
Nor.
And I, remain!
Oct.
Wilt thou obey?
Adal.
Not while this mystery
Involves me—frights my reason—menaces
I know not what of dreadful. Ah! what is it?
Nor.
Come hither: is this he who has played thy lover
And planned to fly with thee this very day?
Adal.
As I do hope for mercy, he it is!
Nor.
O, Adalgisa! (Covers her face with her hands.)
Adal.
Norma, do not weep.
Nor.
O, would that I could weep!
Adal.
What great distress
Has come to thee I know not, but I share it.
Nor.
Thou dost! The blow is double, smiting both.
In that man see my husband!
Adal.
Ah! (Retires and sits.)
Nor.
To me bound
By all that law could lend of sanctity—
By all of multiplied and tender bonds
Honor could feel and cherish. I so loved him
I would have plucked my heart out to uphold him
In health and safety—would have looked on death
As a slight thing, encountered in his service.
And now. ... O! fool, fool, fool! what thou hast spurned
Was such a treasure as a god might roam
On earth long years to win—was such a sum
Of deep, devoted, deifying love
As would have crowned with its felicity
Thy life, and shed celestial radiance on it.
Now, like a star hurled from its sphere and lost
In utter gloom, 'tis gone—gone—gone! O, day
Of anguish insupportable! O, hour
To which none darker can succeed, tho' death
Come black with every horror!
Oct.
Hear me, Norma.
Nor.
Ay, I have waited long. I'm all attention.
Oct.
I would have spared thee this abrupt disclosure—
Would have untied with gentle, cautious hand,
The knot to thee so sacred.
Nor.
To me sacred?
Only to me? Well: what wouldst thou have done?
Oct.
I would have waited till time's gradual power
Had weaned thee from me—one by one unclasped
Most tenderly the tendrils of thy love—
Ere thou hadst known what this unheeding maid
Has rashly uttered.
53
For thy kind intents
All gratitude.—O, miscreant! Could such words
Issue from any heart that ever loved!
“Time's gradual power!” “Weaned!” “Tendrils!” Think you love—
(Love! the immortal, amaranthine flower!)
Is but a creeping ivy which the winter
May loosen from one tree, the spring re-fasten
On to another?—But I interrupt you.
Oct.
Thou know'st the worst—and all that I would say
Is to assuage—console.
Nor.
Console! O, mockery!
Oct.
One circumstance, if 'twill not justify,
At least may serve me in extennuation.
Arnulf spake truly: when I came to woo thee
'Twas in my country's service; and my marriage,
Ordained by state necessity, was binding
Only while that might last. So do not blame
Me, but the system by which Rome would win
Dominion here in Gaul.
Nor.
I live to hear it!
Dupe that I was! self-seeking, wretched dupe!
Myself abandoned, and my country sold
To my betrayer!—All your honeyed words
Were then a lie—a trap—to ruin me
And to enslave my people. You could play
The matchless hypocrite in what's most holy
To compass my perdition!—But, your pardon!
Rome's the offender—Rome!
O! how convenient, when a man concurs
In a foul wrong, to spread the shame of it over
An unaccountable, uncertain mass,
A state—a public body—as if he
Could thereby make his individual share
Attenuate past the weighing! I deny
Thy plea—'tis false—ignoble—he but sins
In magnified proportion, who would help
A nation in its crime!— (Her ring suddenly attracts her notice.)
That ring—look on it—
And recollect the words with which you gave it.
O! hollow, hollow, hollow! Take it back.
(Takes off ring and offers it to Octavian, who receives it.)
Oct.
Before I met thee, I had met and loved
(As she'll attest) this maiden. (Adal. rises.)
How I strove to
Displace her shrined image with thine own,
Only my heart can know. In vain I strove;
54
An answering flame, mine swept that way to join it,
And both became as one.
Adal.
(To Norma.)
Ah! do not weep.
Nor.
Who weeps? Give me thy hand.
(She leads Adalgisa to Octavian.)
Take her, my lord.
But, if ye prize each other's life, begone
At once—without a pause—putting such speed
Into your flight that the celerity
Of vengeance shall be slack. I'm almost calm
Now; but, another moment, such a frenzy
May come to unpoise me, 'twill be dangerous
To abide its wildness. Go! without a word!
Oct.
Now thou'rt thy noble self; now thou art Norma!
Fear not but thy control in Gaul's affairs
Shall still be paramount; that thou shalt keep
Her freedom unimpaired, her welfare ever
The first concern. The friend of my successor,
Lucilius Lollius, I will so commend
To him thy worth, no other counsellor
Shall be so heeded. He is young, unmarried,
Noble, discreet: perhaps, a happier tie
Than that we sunder now, may consecrate
In a brief while your friendship.
Nor.
Execration
Upon thee for that thought!
What! Would'st transfer me like a common wanton
From one to the other? Thou hadst seemed to reach
The utmost height of all potential wrongs—
But there was one, conception could not scale—
Inhuman, gross, o'ertopping all the rest—
And thou hast added that! Beware! Remember
My blood is half barbarian, and despair
Makes doubly strong. Go! I abjure compunction.
This heart, so late the paradise of love,
Is now a desolation for the Furies,
And they are here. Fly ye! Fly both, before
Their sport begins!
Oct.
Time shall abate thy grief
And show me as thy friend, do what thou wilt.
Come, Adalgisa! All is ready.
Adal.
Back,
Roman!
Oct.
Delay not. Solitude shall bring
Composure to her soul.
55
Thee I blame not,
Poor child. Farewell! Be happy.
Adal.
And could Norma
Suppose, but for a moment, I could be
The recreant wretch to leave her in her sorrow—
Leave her for him—her husband—her betrayer!
Those high and holy lessons that she gave me
From childhood up, by precept and example,
In every nobleness, in every virtue,—
Thinks she they were so fruitless, I can stoop
To such a partnership in wrong and shame
As he would take me to—be happy in it!
Nor.
Thou'rt my own pupil!
Oct.
Thy constraining presence
Drives her to this. I fear not for the issue
When she is free.
Adal.
There's such a separation
Betwixt us twain, that neither gods nor men
Can close it up. You think me meek and yielding,
And so I am, except where conscience bars,—
Then, not the firmament less moveable
By human hand! Be undeceived in that.
Oct.
Women! ye drive me to the inmost trench.
I'm still proconsul! Ye shall find it. I
Have tried forbearance; if ye spurn it, there's
Another way, and that my purpose takes
Rather than fail. The maiden goes with me
To Rome. Be sure of that. I'll hear no more
Of your hysterical ravings. My resolve
Is fixed. Prepare to see its execution.
[Exit
Nor.
What wilt thou do?
Adal.
Die, Norma! Have I not
This steel, to baffle outrage?
Nor.
Hapless maid!
Adal.
What are my griefs to thine? what to thy wrongs?
Nor.
O! for some way to save thee! to defeat
His violent purpose. War and havoc! welcome,
If ye'll do that! Methinks with this right hand
I now could smite him to the earth. Alas!
My own weak confidence has here undone me,—
Transferred to him my power—disbanded all
Our Gallic men of battle—driven to caves
The Druid foes of Rome—reposed in him
The means to enforce his threat!
(Enter Arnulf disguised.)
Arn.
There's yet a way
To foil him.
56
Who art thou?
Arn.
Rome's enemy.
Nor.
My friend, then! In aught else be spy or traitor,—
Deliver us from the proconsul's power,
Thou'rt my good genius!
Arn.
Soon his guards will be
Around this house to cut off your retreat.
Fly instantly. I'll lead you where the name
Of Norma is a spell to rouse and rally
Thousands. In his security through thee
The Roman has sent home the better part
Of his late army.
Nor.
True!
Arn.
Thou'lt have at once
A force about thee, equal to resist,
If not o'erwhelm him.
Nor.
Hah! Through fire and flood
I'll follow thee. Lead on! Come, girl! Thy hand!
'Tis firm.
Adal.
Not firmer than my will.
Nor.
Lead on!
[Exit Arnulf
Not every hope is gone! One's left! It beckons
From yonder cloud of blood, and smiles revenge!
[Exeunt
END OF ACT IV.
ACT V.
Scene I.
—The outskirts of a wood. Enter Otho wounded, and Marcus, meeting.Otho.
Give me good news, or none.
Mar.
Then I'll be silent.
Otho.
Nay, man; let's have the worst.
Mar.
The day is lost.
Otho.
And many days to come! Where's the proconsul?
Mar.
Still trying the impossible,—to rally
Our routed troops. His prodigies of valor,
Example, voice, are all in vain. What folly
When we're outnumbered ten to one! You're wounded.
Otho.
Scratched a little.
Mar.
Shall I not aid you?
Otho.
No.
A little rest will serve. (Sits.)
Escape while yet
You may. Stay not for me. 'Tis my command.
57
Unlucky day for Rome.
[Exit
Otho.
Was ever man
Precipitated from prosperity
Into perdition, that a woman was not
The mainspring of the mischief? Helen—Hector!
Antony—Cleopatra! Always—always,
It takes a woman, thoroughly to undo us.
Here was Octavian throned on fortune's summit!
He offends a woman—wounds her pride—and lo!
The summit is reversed—and he and all
Rome's dearly purchased power in Gaul are pitched
Into confusion! ... Here he comes! Chagrin
And desperation, writ in every feature!
(Enter with drawn sword, Octavian.)
Oct.
An utter rout! Not even my body-guard
Saved from dispersion! What a tale will this be
To tell in Rome! With every circumstance—
Norma's desertion—Adalgisa—O!
Can I endure the infamy? A province
Lost through my love-sick giddiness! An army
Sacrificed to prevent a girl's escape!
O! 'twill sound well. How like a froward boy,
Who doats upon his bane, and will possess it
At every hazard, have I borne myself.
I'll not survive my shame. (Voices.)
Ha! Voices? This
Shall put an end to a dishonored life,
And make Gaul's triumph less. Death! awful Power!
Be gracious, as self-doomed, self-blasted, thus
I rush into thy darkness!
(Kneels and puts sword to his breast.)
Otho.
(Rising and coming forward.)
Stop a moment!
Before you try that, let us hold a council
Of war about it.
Oct.
(Rising.)
Otho!
Otho.
You shall dine
Better than on cold steel.
Oct.
So well on that
I shall not crave another dinner.
Otho.
Death
Keeps a poor table.
Oct.
Nay, the best. Your only
Magnificent voluptuary he!
Wealth, beauty, grandeur—all are his purveyors
Kings and proconsuls cater for him only.
To-day the flower and splendor of my army
58
Death's scullion!
Otho.
Yet to seek him uninvited
May be to lose his hospitality.—
Give up thy coward purpose.
Oct.
Coward!
Otho.
Ay!
To fly from life at the first frown of fortune!
Oct.
Wert thou not wounded, I would smite thee now
That thou mightst slay me.
Otho.
Slay thee? Scold thee rather!
Cheer thee, man, cheer thee! Better times shall come.
Oct.
'Tis not reverse of fortune, Otho—not
This sudden outbreak and this overthrow—
Crushes all hope and makes life hideous. I
Could bear calamity, smile on disaster,
But that my own thrice execrable folly
Has brought them on my country!
Otho.
Live, and time
Shall help thee to repair the mischief.—Hark!
Voices—and of the enemy!—This way!
Oct.
'Twill cost them something ere they capture us—
Something in blood.
Otho.
Be wary. Small our chance!
[Exeunt
(Enter Gontran and Rudiger, with Soldiers.)
Gont.
(To soldiers.)
Go, scour the wood: some officers of rank,
It may be, lurk there yet. Secure all such
Alive, if possible.
[Exeunt Soldiers
Was ever rout
More sudden and complete!
Rud.
Our study now
Must be to hold what we have gained, nor let
The cheapness of the purchase mitigate
Our care to keep. This is a Druid triumph.
Gont.
That's doubtful. But for Norma's fiery words,
Her influence on the people, we had hardly
So quickly raised an army.
Rud.
But the Druids
Flocked foremost to her standard, seeing that
'Twas against Rome she raised it; and the Druids
Now must be reinstated—lifted to
Their old predominance in Gaul. If Norma
Refuse to aid in this—
Gont.
If?—
Rud.
She must die!
59
Could she not sooner give thyself to death?
No questions would be asked then. But for her—
Who dare arrest her? I? Not I! My men?
Not one of them!
Rud.
You overestimate
The present bound of her authority.
Gontran, we have a party, and a large one,
Ready to throw the yoke off.
Gont.
'Tis because
She lays no yoke, her sway is what it is.
I've heard before these intimations, but
They never came to aught.
Rud.
We have a charge
Against her now will crush her. She has broken
Her vestal vow—is married.
Gont.
Ha!
Rud.
And, Gontran,
Her fall shall be thy rise. Thou shalt be chief,
Civil and military, over Gaul.
I do not grasp at phantoms: 'tis assured,
If thou'lt but lend us, at the needful time,
Thy countenance and aid.
Gont.
What you propose
Is sudden. I'll consider.
Rud.
And who, think you,
Is implicated with the priestess?
(A clashing of swords without.)
Gont.
Hark!
A skirmish! This way came the sounds! Halloo!
[Exeunt
SCENE II.
A Druidical temple and altar. A brazen shield for sounding an alarm hung on one side. Enter Norma, wearing an oaken chaplet.Nor.
And all the while he loved another! All
The while his soul dwelt on another's image!
Each passionate word he spoke was prompted by
Another's charms—framed for another's ear!
Abhorred dissembler! if I pardon thee
May my keen sense of wrong expire, and outrage
Familiar grown be rendered and received
But as my due! And 't was his transient glance
At Adalgisa could so fortify
His heart against me—make desertion easy—
60
The lure of my perdition! But for her
I still might be a wife—he might be loyal!
(Enter Adalgisa.)
You trespass on my privacy. Away!—
Nay, do not mind me. Stay! Forgive my harshness,
You too have suffered. 'T was in ignorance
You crossed me here. (Her heart.)
Adal.
Yet, Norma, like a culprit
I feel, approaching thee. O! may I not
Strive some way to undo the wrong which I
Unwittingly have aided? I will see him—
Fall at his feet—admonish—lead him back
To love and duty!—
Nor.
No! too late! too late!
As well restore to the crushed flower its bloom!
Or make the shattered column whole again.
No more, O! never more, can be restored
The glory vanished.
Adal.
Nay, despair not. I
Will so plead to him for thee—
Nor.
Plead for me?
To him? To him? Leave me!
[Exit Adalgisa
Plead for me! She!
Tease him to take me back! Entreat, and be
Rejected—laughed at! O! not yet—not yet
Am I so abject grown that I would sue
For such return of love as was not given
From its own free, unprompted overflow.
The love that importunity could win
Were bought for me too dearly! ...
Sue to him!
Let him beware lest the time swiftly come
When he must sue to me for his base life!
And shall he have it? Ye dark Powers, who know
Our thoughts before they're uttered—who are nigh
Invisible but vigilant to aid
The vengeful purpose, gird me with your strength,
And check each throb of pity, filling me
With rancor not my own, to launch upon him
A traitor's death.
(Enter Egbert.)
The news? How leans the battle?
Egb.
To victory! The Roman is defeated!
His army put to flight, and utterly
Disbanded.
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The proconsul—?
Egb.
No one yet
Knows of his fate.
Nor.
Our triumph were imperfect
Should he escape. Let search be made for him
On every side. Be speedy. [Exit Egbert
Now, Octavian,
Now hast thou found that she, upon whose heart
Thou thought'st to trample with thy armëd heel,
In safety, had, with sense to feel her wrong,
The power to punish. Little didst thou dream
Of this. She's but a woman (thou didst reckon)—
A burst of tears—some words of fierce upbraiding—
And there 't will end; and I shall go my way
Pleasantly with my paramour, and laugh
Among my peers in Rome at Norma's love
And my abandonment.—Perfidious wretch!
Now shalt thou learn what thou hast lost in Norma—
Shalt learn to prize—if not her love—her power.
(Enter Egbert.)
Well?
Egb.
The proconsul—he is captured.
Nor.
Hang him
On the first tree!
Egb.
But he fought hard! It was not
Till they had stunned him with a battle axe,
Aimed from behind and battering his helmet,
That they could take him.
Nor.
(With changed emotion.)
Is he wounded?
Egb.
Slightly.
When he came to, he grasped a sword and strove
To slay himself.
Nor.
To ... slay himself?
Egb.
But we
Prevented that, and have him now secured.
Nor.
Bring him before me. [Exit Egbert
Wounded? Seeking death?
Norma! What's this? Dost tremble? Where's the firmness
That now should brace thee to an awful justice?
Let him see no relenting. Think upon
Thy wrongs—his perfidy—and death shall seem
A penalty too light. Down, thoughts of ruth!
He comes. I know his step too well—too well!
(Enter Egbert with Octavian, pinioned.)
(Aside.)
Pinioned! (To Egbert.)
Release him.
Egb.
Norma, I'm forbidden
To do that.
62
Is it done?
Egb.
To me thy word
Is still supreme. I do it. (Releases Octavian.)
Nor.
Leave us now.
[Exit Egbert.
Are you much injured?
Oct.
Nay, not consciously.
Methinks my sense is dead to outward pain.
Nor.
And can your inward pain, think you, compare
With what I have endured—you have inflicted?
But now, you're in my power.
Oct.
Norma, I know it;
And so (though all unworthy) ask one grace—
A swift release from life! No word of thine
Can aggravate remorse, or make me look
With a more poignant loathing on myself.
I've wronged thee to that pitch, thy mercy would
Be an ignoble weakness! 't is my death
Alone can right thee.
Nor.
O, Octavian!
How did I trust thee! Thy betrayal robs me
Not of a husband merely, but of faith
In human goodness—plants within my heart
A wretched incredulity for that
Eager belief in virtue, which could plume
Immortal hopes.
Oct.
Lend me thy dagger, Norma,
And let me spare thee one affliction more
(For such it will be, if not now, hereafter!)
The order for my death.
Nor.
I've still the power
To save and free thee.
Oct.
But thou durst not use it.
Nor.
I dare and will, on one condition.
Oct.
What?
Nor.
Give me thy oath that thou'lt henceforth forever
Abandon all pursuit of Adalgisa!
Thus shalt thou have thy life—thy liberty!
Oct.
The first I ask not, and the last I gain
In losing that.
Nor.
Swear, swear! Time flies.
Oct.
I cannot!
Nor.
Thou wilt not give her up?
Oct.
To save life? No!
Nor.
Beware! My passion will not be outdone
By thine. Her too I have within my power.
Oct.
Thou wouldst not harm her?
63
Thou canst speak and save her.
Oct.
She's guiltless.
Nor.
Guiltless? Ask our Druid fathers
Who (thanks to thee!) now lift their heads again,
If she, a priestess, who'd have fled with thee,
Is guiltless? Dost thou know the punishment
They have for such offenders? I will tell thee:
Death at the stake, by fire!
Oct.
Most horrible!
Thou'lt not denounce her for a crime which thou
Art guilty of?
Nor.
Why not? Is death to me
A terror, think'st thou? Thou shalt live to taste
The sweetness of that cup which thou couldst send
In such a generous measure to my lips. (Going.)
Oct.
Norma!
Nor.
Back!
Oct.
Spare her! Mercy, I implore thee,
Mercy for her! The rack, the flame for me!
Torture my flesh—
Nor.
What's torture of the flesh
To that appalling torture of the spirit
Which thou hast made me feel?
(Smites the shield furiously.)
Oct.
Not for my life,
Norma, but hers—I yield—I take thy oath.
Nor.
Thou dost?
This also promise: 'gainst thy own life thou
Wilt lift no hand.
Oct.
That's harder—but I promise.
Nor.
And spite of thy disloyalty to me
I trust thee. Thou shalt live—shalt have thy freedom.
Oct.
And Adalgisa?
Nor.
I would yield myself
Up to their flames, sooner than harm a hair
Of her dear head.
Oct.
(Kneels.)
More than thy threats, thy mercy
Forces me to my knees and makes the vileness
Of all my wrongs too glaring. O, forgive!
Nor.
Never! Up, up! The Druids are at hand.
(Octavian rises—Norma kneels at the altar. Music. Enter Rudiger, with Druids, Gontran with Soldiers, Arnulf, priestesses, &c.)
Rudiger.
(To Arnulf.)
Suspects she aught?
Arnulf.
I've watched her narrowly.
But can learn nothing.
64
(To Gontran.)
Can we trust the army?
Gont.
Those near around us are picked men—the mass
I cannot answer for.
Arn.
We need not fear them.
When all is carried, they will be the first
To throw their caps up for you. In delay
Our danger lies.
Rud.
Enough! (To Norma.)
Your summons, Norma,
Has here convoked us, and we wait your word.
Nor.
(Rising and coming forward.)
This victory, Gauls, gained with such petty loss
On our side—proves it not, the gods have guided
(Better than we could plan) our destiny?
Who would have thought, the step so many deemed
Rome's triumph and Gaul's overthrow, should end
In this day's work? Thus do the Eternal Powers
Make our own blindness and hostility
Serve their designs—lodging in what seems evil
To us our highest good. Has the event
Justified all I did?
Egb.
Ay, Norma!
Nor.
Then learn my present act—and to the gods
Confide the consequences. I release
Herewith our prisoner, the proconsul.
Rud., Gont., Arn.
No!
It must not be!
Nor.
Not be? Who dares dispute
My sovereign will?
Rud.
I dare, and many dare
Dispute it. He must die!
Nor.
Must die? A prisoner
Of war must die? be murdered in cold blood?
Rome can retaliate—have ye thought of that?
Rud.
'T is not as prisoner of war we doom him:
He has committed sacrilege! has wedded
A priestess of the temple—and for that—
Say, soldiers, what should be his sentence?
Soldiers.
Death!
Rud.
What hers, the partner of his crime?
Soldiers.
Death! Death!
Arnulf.
Her name?
Rud.
Behold her—Norma!
All.
Norma!
Rud.
Ay!
Will she deny it?
Nor.
She denies all right
65
Her supreme pleasure. She has violated
No oath—no sacrilege committed—and
She fears not but the gods will shield their own
To your confusion.
Rud.
We will hear no more.
Nor.
Am I hemmed in by foes? What! Soldiers! Men
Of Gaul! By all deserted? Not one faithful?
Not—
Rud.
We forbid all manner of appeal
From the decree. No more!—Your chaplet, Norma!
Nor.
(Taking it off.)
Not to thy hands I yield it—but to earth
Who gave it me. (Throws it to the ground.)
Oct.
Druids, on me let fall
Your heaviest vengeance! But, as ye are men—
Not wolves—or as ye would escape the swift
And certain punishment which Rome shall send—
Spare her, a woman.
Rud.
Threats and pleas avail not.
Nothing can change your doom. Ye die together.
And that forthwith. Prepare there!
(Looking off.
Nor.
Then, Octavian,
The power to keep my pledge to save and free thee
Is gone.
Oct.
Regard not that. For thee—for thee
Only—I grieve! O! in this solemn hour
Grant me thy pardon—I alone have brought
This wo and death upon thee!
Nor.
I forgive thee—
And count it happiness with thee to die.
Oct.
Those words have quite unmanned me—they have shown me
The vastness of that love, which, like a wild
Insensate prodigal, I forfeited.
O, Norma!
The frenzy that could lead me to forsake thee
Was but the senses passion—now I know.
From death's own touchstone, that my soul's true love
Is my own wife.
Nor.
My husband! All's forgiven!
Oct.
Wilt thou again receive it?
(Offers her a ring.)
Nor.
Joyfully! (Puts on ring.)
O! what a cloud is lifted! what a flood
Of bliss comes pouring on my heart—restoring
All that was lost, in fuller, richer measure!
66
A happier one that ever! Dear Octavian!
(Arnulf approaches with four Soldiers.)
Arn.
It grieveth me to interrupt this dalliance.
But see! the flames are lighted—and we wait.
Ye overlook me. Is this courteous, when
Ye owe me your acquaintance?
Nor.
There is mercy
In thy revenge. Thou'st given us this last
Dear privilege—to die together!
Arn.
Come, then!
Your time is ended. (Sound of a trumpet without.)
Rud.
Hold! Who dares invade
Our sacred precincts with untimely music?
(Enter ---, Soldiers and then Ambron.)
All.
Ambron!
Amb.
A greeting to you all. Norma! What's this?
What rites are these?
Rud.
Approach her not, O Ambron!
Of sacrilege convicted, in her union
With the proconsul, both are here condemned
To die the death.
Amb.
Indeed! That's somewhat sudden.
Rud.
Hadst thou been with us sooner, thou hadst shared
In this day's triumph over the proconsul.
Amb.
And ye did miss, regret me? 'Tis a pity
That I was absent. Well: why do ye pause?
Gont.
On with the prisoners!
(A pause.)
Amb.
Now this is strange!
Will no man stir to do his captain's bidding?
Heard ye? He said, On with the prisoners! Well;
Will none obey? All motionless! What means it?
(To Rudiger.)
Druid, explain!
Rud.
Ambron, respect for thee
Withholds them till thy voice has seconded
The order. Now, good Ambron, noble Ambron,
The pride of Gaul—fit wielder of the sword
Of Brennus—thou wilt acquiesce—wilt punish
This sacrilegious pair!—think of it, Ambron:
She must needs wed a Roman—was there no one,
If recreant she must be, more worthy of
Her choice among her valiant countrymen?
Thou wilt stand by us here, good Ambron—wilt
Move not a finger to avert the sentence
The army has confirmed!
67
The army, truly!
Your squad of traitors ye do call an army!
Let one—or all—come forward if they dare
T' oppose my will in this. I know the army—
Have told them all ye charge 'gainst Norma—and
They are as true to follow us as is
The thunder-clap the lightning—to unite
With us to sweep from the polluted earth
The Druids and their worship. Hear ye that?
Back to your caves! Your triumph endeth here.
Norma, thou'rt free! Octavian, thou art free!
Arnulf.
(Aside.)
Balked in my patient hate, when all seemed won?
The brand, I owe to Norma, on this flesh—
Ay, on this heart—shall it be cancelled never?
(To Norma.)
Norma! a word with thee; a single word!
This for thee, Norma! (Tries to stab Norma, but stabs Octavian, who has warded off the blow. Ambron, with his sword, wounds Arnulf, who is then seized by two of Ambron's men. Octavian is supported by Norma.)
Ambron, curses on
Thy fortune that could bring thee here to save
Her thy heart doats on! Could I reach thee, I—
Amb.
Away with him! Away!
(Arnulf is carried out.)
Nor.
Octavian! husband.
In saving me, thou'rt wounded!
Oct.
Welcome wound!
Nor.
Droop not—'tis slight—indeed 'tis slight.
Oct.
No, dearest;
The justice of the gods was in the blow,
And it went home. Norma, forgive thy husband—
Forget his guilt—and—if thou canst—imagine
Some touch of goodness in him—and be sure
He blessed thee—dying—by this token. (Kisses her.)
Nor.
Dying!
Oct.
Ambron, farewell! Protect her still. Where, Norma—
Where art thou? Do not leave me.
Nor.
Leave thee? Never!
Oct.
So! Keep thy hand upon my heart—and smile
Forgiveness on me—till I die. Farewell! (Dies.)
Nor.
Octavian! My beloved! One word! Dead? Dead?
(Falls on the body.)
Curtain Falls.
END OF THE TRAGEDY.
| The Priestess | |