 | Florien |  |
ACT III.
Scene.—The same. Florien's House. Enter Florien in a walking dress, followed by Kilrose.Flo.
Nay, never stand halting at the door, my
good lord. I am more in charity with you, now that
I see less of you. You may come in for once.
Kil.
Is there no man here?
Flo.
Several, an't please you. But don't be
alarmed.
(pointing to pictures)
They are only painted
gentlemen, who smile on the bright days and frown
on the dark, and ere are the best of company always, for
they hold their tongues, knowing they have nothing
to say.
Kil.
They are the safer councillors for that. They
might tell of strange things they have seen in their
pretty kinswoman's house.
Flo.
Oh wonderful! They have seen lovers come
and lovers go, like the peaches that rip and rot on the
garden wall: they have seen men sighing for love,
and women yawning for sympathy: they have seen
servants apt and masters blind: they have seen lords
and courtiers trying to be amusing, and breaking
down on the threshold!
Kil.
And they have heard pretty Mistress Florien
Faith, to listen to you one would think you wore
the helmet of Minerva, instead of the girdle of
Venus.
Flo.
Venus again! How stale is this heathen
learning of yours, which is stuffed with three or four
names like a parrot with its handful of lessons. Dolly
is gone out. Help me off with my mantle here. It
suits me, does it not?
Kil.
Everything suits you. Where learned you
this trick of wearing? you would carry a cotton
bodice like a queen's robe.
Flo.
Ah me! ah me! Did I not admit you once
more, to see if a short exile had taught you some
other language than this eternal flattery? But never
mind; I am wondrous kind to-day, and look on the
whole world through rose-glasses—even on you!
Kil.
You do yourself justice there. You are as
radiant as the Sun on a southern holiday.
Flo.
Alack, alack! have you then but exhausted
the classics, to start on a new track of simile-hunting?
Must I send for some wine to help you to change the
subject, or for the dice box? They were ever your
two only prompters of discourse, your wit's only
feeders!
Kil.
You have the better of me there, mistress:
for you shift the fancies of your brain like the shapes
learning, during this exile of mine?
Flo.
How know you I have been learning any?
Kil.
I am apt at reading. I can see it.
Flo.
One—that you could never teach me.
Kil.
Yet I tried.
Flo.
Did you? you were not qualified. The
teacher must master it first.
Kil.
Florien—tell me. Does the knowledge come
but of a city training?
Flo.
Take care! Did I not say I was in a gentle
mood? Beware how you ruffle it.
Kil.
I would not do that. For to-night, at least,
you have promised us a draught of the old laughter—
a breath of the old merriment.
Flo.
At the concert in the Bear-Garden! True.
My heart treads lightly for the hour, and the door
stands open wide to the old friendships and the old
pleasures. If I have resigned the crown that perforce
you graced me with, I would wear it again to-night
but for a time.
Kil.
The crown of wit and beauty? So you shall.
And the best of your lieges shall be there to bow to
it, and to welcome you back after your short abdication.
The rivals that have rejoiced in your absence
shall scatter at your rising, and you shall have a royal
welcome.
Be it so. I am in the reigning vein.
Kil.
As you always should be. Oh! Florien, take
care! You were born but for that.
Flo.
Again?
Kil.
Yes, again. Why have you so perilled your
royalty? Why have you fled your court for the last
few weeks, and closed your palace doors, to let the
talk grow of you and your 'prentice fancy? It was
matter for laughter for a day or two: now it is something
more. Your spark is handsome enough: but
what becomes of the high-born lady whose mystery
was half her charm,—if she trifles with it thus? Oh,
throw away sport so unworthy, and follow seemlier
game.
Flo.
I think I never heard you so eloquent. Have
you any more to say?
Kil.
Much, if you would listen. What is your
purpose? Men even say that you would marry that
boy. That you cannot do.
Flo.
(starting)
Why not?
Kil.
Being of the birth you are—you?
Flo.
Ah! I forgot my birth. True—I cannot
marry him. But the boy has a charm you cannot
reach, good Sir Preacher: simplicity.
Kil.
Faith, he had when first I met him. But I
saw him abroad with you but yesterday, and you
have left him little enough of that.
Why do you say so?
Kil.
Bah! you have bewitched him. He looks as
reckless as a spendthrift before he blows his brains
out, or as a footpad on his road to Tyburn!
Flo.
(shuddering)
Ah! Enough of this: I will
hear no more of it. Another word, and I keep not
tryst with you to-night. Once more, my lord, I give
account of myself to no man!
(Enter Roy)
Ah!—save where I please.
Where have you been these six weeks?
Roy.
But six hours!
Flo.
Is that all? My Lord Kilrose—this is my
friend, Master Roy Mallet.
Kil.
We have met, I think, before; at the house
of Master Fuller, your master.
Roy.
My lord!
Kil.
Is he not?
Flo.
My lord! you may be in your noble's right
but do not use it before me.
Kil.
I spoke but the truth, Mistress Florien; and
I leave you. It is at least my privilege to know my
place. I thank you for receiving me. I did not
know your young gallant was free of entrance when
he pleased.
If he is free of my heart, my lord, he can but
be free of my house.
Kil.
Ah! this is but a day dream; you will wake
from it. We shall meet at the concert to-night.
Young sir—
Roy.
My Lord Kilrose—
Kil.
Your pardon; I knew not of your coming.
You are on a dangerous pinnacle, young man: take
care!
Roy.
I am ready to defend my post, my lord,
against any man.
Kil.
Your rank protects you. Defend it—I warn
you—against yourself!
(Exit Kilrose)
Roy.
What does he mean?
Flo.
What matter? Let him talk.
Come here, and look at me.
Roy.
Ay! in thy sight
I can forget myself and all the thoughts
That darken every place where thou art not,
And kill each hour untenanted of thee.
What did that lordling here?
Flo.
I let him come
By way of contrast. Are you jealous, sir?
Roy.
No, Florien; we are knit too close for that,
In bonds too strange and strong of unison.
Flo.
Truce to such bodings! they become you not,
Nor me, nor Love, nor Fortune. Foolish boy,
With what the whole town bandied battle for,
That's Mistress Florien's favour? Fell it not,
Like kindly rain upon the lower earth,
Waking with dewy kiss a fragrance up,
That slept before!
Roy.
What did that lord with you?
Flo.
Faith, thou art jealous, then! I love thee for it:
Though folly be thy speed. I bade him come,
That I might read the riddle of my heart
More deftly than before, remembering
What spurious coin and clipped contrivance passed,
With such as him, for gold. And even for that
Once more I flaunt it with the best to-night
To hear my praises madrigalled again
To the dead echo of a worn-out song,
That the true chords of melody may swell
Within the heart that thou hast called to life,
And bring me back the slave of Love—and thee!
Roy.
Speak still like that. Weave ever in mine ear
Thy spell of witchcraft with its golden web,
And let all sound except thy voice be mute,
All light, except thine eye, extinguishëd!
So thou wilt speak like that—so thou wilt pour
The love stream from thine heart to fuse with mine—
And all the mighty mystery of air,
There is no power to draw me from thy side,
Or bid me falter for a moment's space
To do thy lightest bidding, or thy worst!
Flo.
What potent spell is mine, o'ermastering thee?
Roy.
What deadly weird is mine, of thee possessed?
Flo.
Call'st thou me deadly, love? What dost thou fear?
Roy.
I fear the curse of Evil, and its end.
Flo.
There is no end in Love; and Love is good.
Roy.
Ay; or it should be. Listen! I have risked
My soul for thee, and I repent it not,
So thou wilt keep the forfeit for thy fee,
While the mad race endures. I will not whisper,
Even to the walls about us, what I am,
And what these weeks have made me. 'Twixt us two,
Silence may speak the name my lips refuse,
Which conscience hisses in my muffled ear
For ever, night and day. Let it not last!
Listen;—the goldsmith's spoil is yours and mine:
Oh, leave this place with me! Oh, come away
To lands where we may lift our heads again,
And win by honest work atonement's wage—
For I will slave for you!
Flo.
Leave England! I?
And leave—It cannot be: impossible.
Roy.
Discovery tracks us. I have worked too well
Upon your bidding, since too late I found,
After that week of passion, that first week
Too sweet for memory, what I had to do
To keep you mine. Suspicion is awake;
I see it even in the eyes I shun,
If e'er I enter in the light of day,
Into the house that night and I have made
Our own for evil—Mary—
Flo.
What of her?
The goldsmith's girl! Why do you falter so?
Why is your voice so soft? Why do your eyes
Dare to have tears in them? You swore to me
That Mary Fuller had no charm for you,
Except a sister's.
Roy.
Is not that a charm?
Mary is dying.
Flo.
Dying!
Roy.
And for me.
Flo.
Poor girl! to die! and leave the world so young!
The world of light, and mirth, and revelry,
The world of music! Whither does she go?
Must we die too?
Roy.
It may be, very soon.
Flo.
Roy!
Do you never think? and never see
The precipice that crumbles at your feet
Under the flowers you tread on? Death is there,
And Shame beside it.
Flo.
Roy! it must not be!
I guess your meaning. Sometimes in my life
Of reckless freedom, I have felt the touch
As of a hand upon me—but it passed!
I war but with a world that wars with me,
And owing it no fealty, fear it not,
But hold it as the vassal of my will,
To pay me pleasure's wages for my service
Rendered to pleasure. If from hearts as hard
As their own coffers, bounty I compel,
Where is my wrong?
Roy.
You cannot teach the world
Your own philosophy. The penalty
Waits like a grinning phantom in the rear,
And gibes at us for his.
Flo.
You will not let
Such penalty touch me?
Roy.
Never.
Flo.
You promise?
Roy.
I do; and thus (kissing her)
I seal it. But once more,
(Enter Hardy by the secret door, and after a moment, steps behind the tapestry unseen)
I come to you with safety, freedom, love,
So you but hear me. Ere the day be out,
We'll trust our fortunes to some sea-bound bark,
And, decked with whatsoe'er your home may furnish,
Go forth together to the golden south,
And slip as silent from this death-in-life,
As shall our ship with loosened cable glide
Into the smooth and glowing ocean-path,
Which beckons us, in Love's companionship,
Unto a far-off haven. Hear you not?
Flo.
Oh yes, I hear. Your words are sweet to me.
The thought is new and sudden. Yet I know
I cannot go. Come back to me to-morrow,
After the feast where I shall shine once more
In my old Queenhood. Come, and plead again!
Oh, how I love to hear you plead with me!
Roy.
The feast? You care not for it; and to-morrow
Is not to-day. Oh come, and take from me
The name that I would hang on you for aye,
The name of wife!
Flo.
Your wife! (aside)
Oh, perverse Fate,
I feel thy bond too bitter! Do you love me
As much as that?
Roy.
I never loved but thee.
Flo.
I cannot wed you.
Why?
Flo.
Love, have you learned
The peril of an oath? and what it is
To be forsworn,—not lightly, as light oaths
Are toys for hourly breaking—but upon
A penalty so strong and terrible,
That it would make a thrall of Satan pause
Upon the issue?
Roy.
Wherefore say you this?
Flo.
Such doom is on my life. I cannot go:
And though a new light broke upon mine eyes,
In thy dear pleading, I must shut it out,
For I am bound.
Roy.
To whom? Tell me his name.
(Hardy comes forward)
Har.
He tells it you himself.
Flo.
Ah! he again!
Har.
Good morrow, love-birds! what's the news with you?
For ever chirping in your pretty nest!
You would be mad to leave it, on a quest
Of rash discovery.
Roy.
(aside)
What is this man?
Flo.
Who told you we would leave it?
Har.
Walls have ears;
And so have I. My dainty little dame,
Stray not too far afield. You, young gallant,
Roy.
Is this command?
Har.
Sounds like it, does it not?
Roy.
Who are you, Captain Magnus, that you dare
To use such tone with me?
Har.
And what are you,
That dare to use such tone with any man?
Roy.
Roy Mallet the 'prentice. Answer for yourself:
Who are you, that with wide and boisterous tongue,
Would rule and order in this lady's house?
Har.
I am this lady's—
Flo.
(to Hardy)
Silence, I implore!
Silence, I beg of you!
Roy.
This lady's—well?
Har.
This lady's friend, and yours, who claim the right
To hold your fancies in mine own control,
And slip you from the leash even when I please;
As now I please not.
Roy.
Have I ears and eyes?
Flo.
(to Roy)
In our love's name I charge you, gall him not!
The man is terrible.
Roy.
And you are bound
To him?
Flo.
To him.
How bound?
Flo.
I cannot say.
Roy.
Something I must be told.
Har.
Something you shall.
I am your master by a right supreme;
Superior force, sir, and complicity.
Roy.
Complicity! in what?
Har.
You want my name?
I am no Captain Magnus, gentle gull,
But bear a name well-known to all the world—
Hardy the highwayman!
Roy.
In Florien's house!
She bound to you—and you—what can this mean?
Har.
Bah! take it gently. Will you take my hand?
Now by my faith, my linnet shrinks from me!
Why, 'tis a pastime for a summer's day,
To make a hermit merry in his cups,
And move unholy laughter in a saint.
Did I not say complicity, young sir?
Roy.
Florien!
Flo.
Oh, shame!
Har.
Shall I change names with you,
Mallet the robber?
Roy.
Ah! entrapped! deceived!
Foiled like a fool, and baffled like a child!
Hoodwinked with love, when love was treachery! (to Florien)
Oh, out upon you! in his single word
Flo.
No! oh, no!
Roy.
How will you answer for this wrong to me?
How will you give me back my honest name?
How free me from the toils? how from the mire
Uplift me to the place that was mine own
Among the true and simple?
Har.
By mine honour,
The last name still is yours. But for the rest,
Mallet and Honesty call kin no more.
Roy.
Insolent villain! (to Florien)
Have you naught to say?
Flo.
Oh, Roy, I love you; love you from my heart,
Even from the hour when first I looked on you,
And in the very whirlwind of my love,
All thought but you was tossed and swept away.
The memory of this man—oh, ask me not
How first he mastered me—was gone, was dead!
I had no thought but you—no care but you—
Forgot my sin, my folly, and my fears,
And never looked one hour beyond the day,
So but that day set on us two as one!
But I am bound—bound with an iron chain
Of this base villain's forging—
Har.
Bah!
Roy.
You are?
Then I will break the chain, so you but swear
Flo.
Oh, never, never!
I hate him.
Har.
Sweet, your servant. For this welcome
I owe you thanks.
Roy.
(to Hardy)
Or you or I lie there!
Har.
Poor boy! one pass of this good sword of mine
Has made mince-meat of better men than you.
Your baby-blade is against Hardy's steel
A casement to a cannon!
Roy.
I will try.
Har.
And if you killed me, hero? Why, behind
Stand twenty score of rogues as stout as I,
To hand you on to Tyburn; you, and her,
Your dainty mistress, and your fancy's queen.
Roy.
Oh God! oh God!
Flo.
Roy, he has spoken truth.
Har.
Has neither of you anything to say?
Well, look you now, how much I am your friend,
How gentle I can be. Good mistress mine,
Do but your servant's bidding once again,
And, by the price set upon Hardy's head,
(A matter of some magnitude, believe me,)
This very night I loose you from your oath,
And with a glad heart break our partnership,
Wishing you both—good speed.
Roy.
What is't you say?
Oh, if you will do this, if you will take
The burden from my life which weighs it down,
Since the dread hour you did immesh me first,
I can forgive you all.
Har.
Then list to me,
You and your fancy here. My plans for you
Jump with his own. Take with you all the store
Of jewels and good gold that you can find,
And in the garden where you feast to-night,
A boat shall wait you at the river-side,
To bear you safely hence with wealth enough
To float you for a life-time.
Roy.
From what sky
Breaks such a ray as this?
Flo.
Go on: what price
Ask you for this strange service?
Har.
Serving you,
I serve myself; for, honestly, your whims
Have palled on me of late. You weary me.
Whilst you were ice and adamant to men,
I had a liking for you. But in love!
Florien in love! Bah! 'tis a common rot,
That falls on common grain. Ill is the end
Of such beginning: Listen both of you;
One contribution more, and you are free,
With half its value for yourselves. I tell you
There's a life's fortune in't. One levy more
Roy.
Oh!
Flo.
Roy, for my sake
Give him but hearing!
Har.
Master Fuller's room
Hath in't a strong-box brought but yesterday.
If at the garden its contents to-night
Are in my hands, my bargain shall be kept,
With a glad heart to gild you for your pains:
And you are quit of England and of me.
Roy.
How learned you of that strong-box? I am calm;
And I attend to you.
Har.
What matters that?
I learn of many things.
Roy.
You know, then, whence
That strong-box came?
Har.
I do. 'Twas from the King.
Roy.
With royal jewels in't—a store of wealth
Pledged for his kingly needs in secrecy,
That you would have me rob.
Har.
I would. You must.
Roy.
And at the bidding of a man like you,
To robbery add treason?
Har.
As you say.
Roy.
Enough; I will not do it.
Flo.
Roy—!
'Tis well.
You are denounced to-night.
Roy.
And you.
Har.
Oh, no:
I have a hand too cunning at the game,
And laugh at novices. My word upon it,
I am as safe as Honesty.
Roy.
I see;
The snare is thorough. Well, denounce me then.
I am weary of my life; I give it you.
Flo.
Oh, no! Whate'er the bitter thing he asks,
Do it this once—do it but once for me,
For in your death I die. But once again—
And all the happiness you drew but now
With lover's airy pencil, all the hopes
Of a new world, new life, and golden prime
Of an eternal summer, grow to real,
And make us all each other's. Think of it!
Roy, for my sake! To-morrow we are free!
Roy.
Can you so swear you love me?
Flo.
By my soul!
Did you not hear him say but now, till now
I was but ice and adamant? To you
Have I been either? Speak!
Roy.
Oh! no, thou fire
To burn a heart in! On my cheek thy kiss
Is lingering now: thine eyes have mirrored mine
And shine together. But—I did not know
For whom I sinned: I thought it was for thee,
But not for him! And not for him or thee
Will I do this. I have dreamed out my dream,
And it was worth the cost. (to Hardy)
Denounce me, thou.
Flo.
He will not, and he shall not. (to Hardy)
Lay on him
A finger, if you dare!
Har.
Oh, fear me not.
I would not sever such a loving pair
For all the Indies. To the law's embrace
I give you up together.
Roy.
God in Heaven!
Can there be such a villain in the world!
No hand to strike him down!
(rushing at Hardy, who puts him back)
Har.
Take care!
Roy.
In vain!
I cannot kill him.
Har.
Only her.
Flo.
I care not!
We are together.
Roy.
No! I cannot see,
I cannot think! I have plunged in too deep.
To care one jot what depth engulfs me now!
Of all that ever did abuse mankind,
That sin thy death! I know not where I am,
Or what the end of this, but all my love
In such a might of passion bears me on,
That I am but a straw for Fortune's wind
To whirl into the Eternal! There—and there.
(kisses Florien)
Flo.
And there! and there! I give it thee again.
Roy.
To-night, whatever hap 'twixt this and then,
I swear by all the Powers that sport with us
To meet you at the garden, to the lips
Steeped in thy guilt for thee! (to Hardy)
Keep thou thy word!
Har.
Ay, to the letter!
Flo.
Roy!
Roy.
(to Florien)
You swear to me
That you will fly to-night?
Flo.
To the world's end!
And thus I swear to thee!
(kissing him)
Roy.
Then, stay me not!
(he rushes out)
Flo.
Oh, will he keep his word? Oh, will he come?
Will he but free me from my fate and thee,
Thou more than master-villain?
Har.
Foolish wench;
I will be more your friend than you can think.
If he is fond enough.
Flo.
My husband! he!
Oh, do not breathe the word, and mar the sound
That mine ears pines for. Would you mock me now?
Har.
I mock you not. You are no wife of mine.
Flo.
What?
Har.
Had I sought a wife, my pretty one,
I had not lightly thrown so fair a charge
Upon the tender mercies of the world,
Or given her but the empty name of bride,
To plume herself withal. Our wedding, child,
Was but a mockery—mock priest—mock show—
To catch my little thrall. You have served me well,
And have my thanks for it. To-night we part.
Flo.
Can this be true? and am I free for him?
Free both to love and wed? Man! shall I be
Thy bondswoman no more? Shall I escape
Thee and thy curse at last?
Har.
To-night, for ever!
(he is at the door, going, as the Curtain falls)
| Florien | |