 | Self's the Man |  |
59
ACT II
Elixir Vitæ
Scene.—The hall of the Royal Palace, Pavia. A large door at the back leads to the city. A similar door on the right opens on the Council-room. On the left are the entrances to the private apartments. At the back of the hall on the left is a curtained-off recess. Windows at the back look on a garden terrace, behind which in the distance the city appears. Tapestries and trophies of arms hang on the walls.
Near the front on the left a table with several chairs. On the table a chess-board
and men; a wine-jar, and goblets of gold and crystal.
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It is late in the afternoon when the act begins. The sun, setting behind the city, has disappeared by the end of the act; and the new moon, deeply coloured by the sunset, rises just above the sun.
When the curtain rises Almeric and Ulric are discovered playing chess; and Thrasimund entering from the city in the dress of a pilgrim.
Thrasimund has aged greatly; stoops; walks with a shuffling gait; smiles often; his voice quavers; he is on the verge of dotage.
Ulr.
A pilgrim!
Alm.
Check.
[Ulric studies the game.]
Thra.
I wish to see the king.
Alm.
The king receives all comers, scallop-shell.
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Ulr.
That passed pawn spoiled my game. I give it up.—
What news from Jericho and Istambul?
[Almeric and Ulric rise from the table, and saunter towards Thrasimund.]
Alm.
Come, we are idle here. Embroider time
With marvels for us. Did you see the eale
Whose horns revolve like axle-fitted scythes;
Satyrs and centaurs; sphinxes; pigmies; folk
That never die, silent and adder-fed?
Ulr.
And how did you escape the leucrocotta,
His cavern mouth, his single jaw-wide tooth,
His human voice that cheats the vagabond?
Or that heroic beast the antelope,
Who saws down trees and conquers regiments
With serried horns, woodman and warrior too?
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(takes off his hat, and peers at them).
Young Almeric, and—Ulric!
Alm. and Ulr.
Thrasimund!
Alm.
Your garb, your absence, your reported death
Deceived us both.
Ulr.
Where have you travelled, sojourned,
Slept and fed, risked life and limb, this year past?
Thra.
Back from Jerusalem and many a shrine
I come to crave the mercy of the king.
Consider: I have pardoned Violante.
Alm.
Why, then, indeed, the king may pardon you!
Thra.
I found her in seclusion, where she wore
A novice's attire. She let me see
The scourge she used. Time lapses; fancy shifts;
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Alm.
A ballad-ending! Very wisely done!
Thra.
You think the king will see me?
Alm.
Certainly.
Thra.
I wear my pilgrim's garb to fetch his fancy.
Alm.
Good!
Thra.
If humility and penance fail,
I have a secret to persuade his grace.
Alm.
A jewel?
Thra.
No; an odd discovery.
The Pyramid of Life I call the thing,
Or the Coeval Angle.
Alm.
What is that?
[Thrasimund takes a burnished triangular shield from a trophy, and erects it, broad end down, on the table. Ulric leans against the wall watching Thrasimund with an amused smile. Almeric attends gravely.]
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Here is the symbol of the life of man.
[touching one point of the base.]
Birth. . . . Let me see now.
[silently measures off four equal spaces on either side of the shield.]
Yes; this point is birth.
[striking the shield at regular intervals one side after the other.]
The tenth, the twentieth, thirtieth, fortieth, year.
The apex of the pyramid divides
The fortieth from the fiftieth, you observe.
Then fifty files with thirty; sixty—twenty;
And seventy equals ten; while fourscore meets
The point opposing birth. And now you know
The Pyramid of Life.
[lays down the shield.]
Alm.
By this you mean?
Thra.
The second half of life is sweeter far
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[re-erects the shield and illustrates.]
In climbing up the hill
Your back is to the world; in coming down
You take it leisurely and overlook
A wide horizon. There is no such thing
As old age, therefore.
Alm.
No!
Thra.
That is the soul
Of my discovery. Look here, again.
Eighty to seventy; one to ten: you see—
The childhoods, first and second. Watch me well.
Next: sixty—twenty; fifty—thirty: youth
And early manhood, first and second still.
Fifty. . . . There should be properly a plain
From thirty on to fifty; a plateau,
The spacious, fertile, double prime of life.
Where is old age? I cannot find its place:
Old age is jostled from the Pyramid;
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There is not, never was, and cannot be
The living phantom men have called old age.
Alm.
The true Elixir Vitæ known at last!
Thra.
Elixir Vitæ? Ah, if that were found!
Alm.
To what end since senility is nought.
Thra.
But there is death! Aha, boys! Death chops in.
[restores the shield to its place on the wall.]
Still my Coeval Angle pleases you.
You see the solace of it; and you think
It may amuse the king? Experience proves
That quaint originalities like this
Avail with potentates, while solemn views
Protract the musty tedium of life.
Alm.
Courtly discrimination!
Thra.
Tell me, now:
How does my sorry reputation do?
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Worn to a myth?
Alm.
No; it is talked of still.
Thra.
I'll live it down. By heaven, I'll live it down!
Alm.
Your reputation will be ruined then.
Even for the thing you mourn your name is now
The most renowned in Lombardy.
Thra.
My name!
Alm.
As patriot and prophet. Words of yours
Ignite their hearts wherever men discuss:—
“In Urban you elect a malcontent,
Whose aim will be to overturn the state,
To rule as despot, and enslave us all.”
It was a true prediction. In himself
Urban has centred all authority,
Defiantly and frankly, like a king!
Thra.
But Ludolf, Adalbert, and Hildebrand?
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Dismissed, impoverished, and mad with hate.
Thra.
And you are for the king?
Alm.
Yes; king's men both.
Thra.
Is the king's party strong?
Alm.
The king is strong.
Thra.
And popular?
Alm.
Adored by all his friends.
Thra.
Ay, but unpopular, you mean to say?
Alm.
He tithes the very blades of grass.
Thra.
For what? an army?
Alm.
Yes.
Thra.
Whom will he fight?
Alm.
That we may know to-day.
Thra.
The world goes on!
How does he manage, wanting Hildebrand,
A warrior of a thousand?
Alm.
Garda leads.
Thra.
The rebel! Then the world is upside down!
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Alm.
No; Hildebrand. Self-exiled on the day
Osmunda married Urban, Lucian eats
His heart out in Ravenna.
Thra.
Urban's wife,
Daughter to Hildebrand, Urban's enemy!
A diplomat may thrive!—An heir?
Alm.
An heiress.
Three weeks ago the queen was brought to bed.
Thra.
Well; well.—And so they talk of me.
Alm.
Oh yes!
Your name's a watchword.
[Ulric beckons to Almeric, and they talk apart.]
Thra.
(to himself).
To abase myself
Might prove a wanton waste of self-respect
Since fame has so exalted me. This garb
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I must be dignified.—Good-day, young men.
My purpose changes; I shall wash away
The stains of travel ere I come to court.
[about to go.]
Ulr.
(detaining Thrasimund).
A moment! How if we could supplement
Your famous angle with the Elixir Vitæ!
Thra.
Elixir Vitæ! My old mouth waters at it!
In Mesopotamia there lived a man
Who found it out; but he by some strange chance
Had passed away before I reached his town.
Ulr.
Mesopotamia calls for no regret.
We have it here in Pavia.
Thra.
The Elixir!
Ulr.
I can procure a draught of the Elixir.
Thra.
My hearing sometimes falters. What?
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I say
I can procure a draught of the Elixir.
Thra.
Ha, ha! Jocose young man!—Have you it here?
Ulr.
It shall be at your service when you choose.
Thra.
I am not the man I was. Something played snap
Inside my skull when Violante's letter
Was read before the world. I cannot now,
As with my former promptitude, detect
Whether your grave demeanour cloaks a jest
Or bares an honest purpose.
Ulr.
Oh, the proof
Of puddings and elixirs is the same!
Thra.
Why, then I will be credulous till the proof!
Procure the draught. The experiment at least
May stir my pulse.—I live across the way.
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My chrysalis.
[opens his pilgrim's gown and shows a courtier's dress beneath as he goes out.]
Alm.
He thinks, to change old age,
You turn it like a mantle inside out.
Ulr.
As vapid truths revive by paradox.
Alm.
How will you compass this?
Ulr.
My scheme matures.
[Enter Philadelphus from the city.]
The very broker that the business wants!
Phil.
Are there no heads too hot yet for their shoulders?
No executioner required to-night?
Ulr.
The old errand still! You never seem to tire.
Phil.
I haunt the palace like an evil genius.
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And prosecute your canvas every day?
Phil.
Save holidays and Sundays every day
Since Urban's coronation! I become
An institution: legend marks me out.
I revel in a more redoubted name,
As indefatigable candidate
For the unholy ultimate career
Of headsmanship, than if I had cut off
Six traitors every week.
Ulr.
The king remits
The final doom.
Alm.
As despot he does well.
His prisons are a nursery of arms;
Out of the criminal he hews the soldier:
So trims a ragged edge.
Ulr.
The murderer
Can slaughter or be slaughtered, one would think,
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When plunder is the order of the day.
Phil.
I bide my time. Beside the armoury,
In a dark cupboard that the cobwebs drape,
The axe, the block, the headsman's dress await me.
Ulr.
How would you care to play a part meanwhile—
Turn a dishonest penny by the hire
Of your loquacity?
Phil.
I never look
At two sides of a coin; for I can make
The false go farther than most men the true—
Or I were no philosopher!
Ulr.
You rogue!
Come after me. You are to personate
A wizard, and exhibit life's elixir.
Phil.
I will exhibit any nostrum, pill,
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And I can personate any one you like,
Being a compendium of humanity.
[Ulric and Philadelphus leave the hall by a private door.]
Enter from the Council-room a number of Lords. They go out at the back in twos and threes, talking as they go.
1st L.
He drills us like a drift of dunces; talks
Engaging generalities; and laughs
Behind our backs.
2nd L.
We have a king, my lord;
We have a king!
3rd L.
Who's for the wars, then, who?
4th L.
I follow still the crowd.
3rd L.
Wise man.
4th L.
I've held
Before to-day a candle to the devil.
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I wish it was this time next year, I do!
6th L.
A coward's wish! Say rather, well begun!
5th L.
You'll find a puddle in the smoothest road.
6th L.
Fear you no puddles. Little wit will serve;
Women and fortune worship fools, you know.
[Laughter and all out.]
Enter from the Council-room Urban, reading a paper. After him Pasqual and the Duke of Garda. Almeric salutes and goes out.
Pasq.
Will you not give me leave to speak my mind?
Urb.
Why so demure? I ask for nothing else.
You never found your friend intolerant.
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Let me speak mine. The word is, up and march!
I know the Æmilian way's a Roman road,
And excellent travelling too; nevertheless
His majesty may mean Ravenna-wards.
But if his purpose were the end of the earth
And headlong to the abyss, I am the man
To lead his army on!
Urb.
Without such men
Kings were impossible.
Gar.
And wanting kings
Such men as I are ineffectual.
Urb.
(giving Garda the paper.)
All is set down. Good speed. Until to-morrow.
[Garda goes out.]
Now, Pasqual, the perplexed, what malady
Afflicts your fancy?
[sits at the table.]
Pasq.
You are my disease.
Ambition like a robe of flame has girt
You, shutting out the wholesome world; and I
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May blaze to ashes in his own desire.
Urb.
That is the end of all men, whether they be
Of wood or adamant; for in themselves
Resides the fire that burns them at the stake
Appointed—avarice, ambition, love.
Pasq.
But you admit no counsel, share your thought
With no man.
Urb.
Ah! jealous of my design!
Well; you shall know it first, I swear, old friend.
Pasq.
Are you not somewhat selfish with your friend?
Urb.
Selfish? Yes! When I weary of myself
And take no joy in Urban, then the world
Has ceased to be! Accept me, for I like you;
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Me, or the meanest being that can think.
And love yourself! Oh, learn to love yourself!
Consider how the silent sun is rapt
In self-devotion! All things work for good
To them that love themselves.—How shall we spend
Our happiness till supper-time?
[picks up a chessman.]
Pasq.
Oh no!
You always win.
Re-enter Ulric and Philadelphus. Philadelphus wears a long gown, and is disguised in long grey beard and hair. He carries a bag.
Urb.
Ulric, what masker's this?
He has purloined, it seems, the very gait
Of Philadelphus.
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He, your majesty!
He personates an Æthiopian mage,
And means to doctor Thrasimund with drops
Of the Elixir Vitæ.
Urb.
Thrasimund!
Ulr.
Returned to-day, a dotard from the East,
Affecting youth offensively; our aim,
To make him entertaining, if we may.
Urb.
Pursue it. I shall watch.
Phil.
Your majesty
Detected my disguise; but notwithstanding,
I think it could beguile a shrewder wit
Than his whose vanity we'll titivate.
Urb.
Try Almeric. He waits without.
[Ulric goes to the door at the back and beckons Almeric.]
Phil.
(goes up stage humming).
I am the alchemist you wot of;
I couple the antipodes;
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Than Hermes Trismegistus's.
[stands at the back.]
Ulr.
He comes.
Re-enter Almeric.
Urb.
Have you seen Thrasimund?
Alm.
Yes, your majesty.
Urb.
What word of Violante?
Alm.
Reconciled.
Urb.
Better and better!
[Philadelphus comes down stage slowly, describing a pentacle in the air to the right.]
Michael of Pavia!
Whom have we here?
Alm.
He scribbles in the air.
Some fortune-teller, some eccentric cheat.
[Philadelphus describes a pentacle in the air to the left.]
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Prefigures—mendicancy.
Phil.
(describing a pentacle in the air in front).
Watch me score
The mystic pentacle that purges space.
Alm.
I had forgotten! Philadelphus! Well!
Phil.
“I am the alchemist you wot of.”
Ulr.
Hush!—Thrasimund!
Alm.
Your tackle's ready?
Phil.
(opens the bag).
See,
Every appliance for renewing youth!
Re-enter Thrasimund, dressed in an extravagantly youthful style.
Urb.
Welcome, my lord.
Thra.
Your majesty! Have I
Your gracious pardon?
Urb.
All the past is dead.
Thra.
Then am I young already.
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True;
But not so young as you will shortly be.
We are prepared, my lord. Greet the renowned
Egyptian necromancer—what's his name?—
Amen Psammeticus, in exile here
By malice of incompetent rivalry.
Thra.
You know of my experiment, it seems.
Urb.
I know, approve, admire.
Thra.
There's no such thing
As old age, I maintain; yet bones grow stiff;
Brains, tender; pulses domptable.
Urb.
Old age
Is doubtless a satirical report
Which inexperience foists upon mankind.
Nevertheless it may not be amiss
That magic should avert such accidents
As shedding of the lovelocks and the teeth,
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For all these things give plausibility
To slanders put about by wanton youth.
Pasq.
It is a shameful thing for age to eke
The filthy dregs of stale incontinence.
Urb.
Yes; but it's bravery in the breed of men
That all should want to live their lives again.
Thra.
Ah, to be young and fresh, your majesty,
With all one's own experience engraved
Upon a fertile brain and thumping heart!
Urb.
Or even without one's own experience. Saint
And sinner willingly would be once more
Just what they have been; in our children too
We happily recur to the end of time.
Phil.
(has filled a crystal goblet with wine and holds a phial in his hand).
Now, all is ready.
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Let me see the Elixir.
[takes the phial from Philadelphus, and walks up stage with it, looking at it against the light. Philadelphus follows him, and they talk in whispers.]
What action on the wine?
Phil.
'Twill turn it blue.
Urb.
On him?
Phil.
He'll sleep like twenty for a space.
[They return to Thrasimund.]
Urb.
These are the last drops of the Elixir Vitæ
Remaining on the earth: never again
Will any haggard alchemist compound
Potable life; the secret of it died
With the discoverer. What cause, what whim
Ordains this dew of youth for you, ask not.
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[Philadelphus holds the goblet, and Urban empties the phial into it. The wine immediately becomes blue. Thrasimund is about to take it, but Urban snatches it away.]
Urb.
Cerulean cordial!
If I were certain that this crystal held
A freehold tenure of time with energy
Instant and inexhaustible!
Thra.
(clasping and unclasping his hands).
My liege,
You will not surely take it from me now!
Urb.
(ignoring Thrasimund).
Never to know decay of appetite—
Thra.
Ah!
Urb.
The ineffectual nerves, the crumbling thought,
The feeble pulses of senility!
Thra.
Ay!
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But to be tensely strung and give response
Full-souled to every pang of pleasure and pain;
To be impassioned always and not to die!
Thra.
You said it was ordained by fate for me!
Urb.
(gives the goblet to Thrasimund, who gulps the contents).
For you! Drink to the dregs, credulity!
Thra.
(nauseates the draught, and looks ruefully from one to the other).
This is a draught of death! You have poisoned me!
[He becomes unconscious. Ulric and Almeric place him in a chair, and Philadelphus operates immediately, Ulric and Almeric handing him from the bag, scissors, razor, soap, rouge, and everything necessary for the change.]
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How pitiful! And how can you permit
Your leisure so invidious a sport?
Urb.
Why, this is nothing! When Medea turned
An old man young again she chopped him up,
And boiled him in a caldron for a week.
Pasq.
Pardon my thinking it is idly done:
You will regret it.
Urb.
Never, friend of mine,
Even if it were iniquity. Regrets
Of all remorseful people in the world,
What are they when the morning comes again,
And every heart-beat wakes a virgin future!
I hear the moments fathom the abyss,
From which no power can ever haul them up.
Why lug about the memory of the past?
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Do you indulge in vain regrets?
Phil.
(busy with Thrasimund's face).
Not I!
Pasq.
Have you endured no bitter grief?
Phil.
Oh yes!
Pasq.
Done anything to be called wrong?
Phil.
I have.
Pasq.
And played the fool perhaps?
Phil.
More than enough.
Pasq.
How can you say, then, you have no regrets!
Urb.
He has another use for his mishaps
Than to regret them.
Pasq.
What may that be?
Urb.
Why,
To digest them, Pasqual. Hence have we brains!
A mental mastication, slow and sure,
Eupeptic consciences and wilful blood
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And staple of all wisdom.
[Philadelphus stands aside and reveals the rejuvenated Thrasimund. His beard has been shaved off; his hair and moustache dyed red; his eyebrows soaped; and his cheeks rouged.]
Urb.
Handsome youth!
A shade too florid; but colour is convincing.
Send for his wife and we shall see them meet.
[Philadelphus and Almeric carry Thrasimund in his chair to the recess at the back, and he is hidden behind the curtain. Ulric takes the message to Violante.]
[Enter Junipert, gaily dressed.
Juni.
Salute, your majesty!
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What is your name,
And business?
Phil.
An astucity of ours,
Magicians, necromancers, is to know
The names of chance-companions. His, I think,
Is Junipert.
Juni.
It is. My business, now?
Alm.
Come, sorcerer.
Phil.
His business? That profane
Unprofitable art of poem-making.
Juni.
My business with the king, I mean.
Phil.
Oh, that!
You come upon Saturnia's behalf,
Who saved you from a beggary more base
By making you her laureate, Junipert.
Juni.
All this the world may hear from envious tongues.
Can you announce my mistress's affair?
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That you are here to tell—and luckily;
For my prophetic frenzy ends at once.
Urb.
Well, sir?
Juni.
I have the honour to appear
For the forlorn, divine Saturnia,
Queen of the Lombards. Having newly learned
That Lombardy is on the eve of war,
She craves an audience of your majesty
To bid farewell.
Urb.
When did Saturnia
Become a queen?
Juni.
Upon your wedding-day.
Phil.
Very poetical!
Pasq.
My lord?
Urb.
Yes, friend.
Pasq.
Give her no audience.
Urb.
Did you know of this?
Pasq.
I did. Indoors she keeps a pagan state,
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Urb.
And I, untold!
I must have spies, it seems!—spies, and a headsman!
Say to Saturnia Urban grants her wish.
Pasq.
Your majesty—
Urb.
Now, you are meddlesome.
Not since we parted has she brought herself
In any way at all to my remembrance.
Doubt not, since now she does so, she obeys
Some clear necessity.
Juni.
I humbly thank
Your majesty. My mistress will set out
As soon as I return.
Urb.
(softly to himself).
Saturnia,
Queen of the Lombards.
[goes out by a private door. Pasqual goes out towards the city.]
Juni.
Have you by any chance
A brother in the town, called Philadelphus?
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Augmenting daily a prodigious fame
By diligent pursuit of what he wants;
A great philosopher?
Juni.
He calls himself
Philosopher; notorious too, he is,
For some absurdity.
Phil.
Notorious be it.
I know him very well; a noble fellow.
Juni.
I never liked the man at all.
Phil.
No? Well;
I shall go with you, and tell you certain truths
About yourself will make you like him less.
[They go out together.]
Enter Hildebrand.
Alm.
(astonished to see him).
Good day, my lord.
Hild.
Does the queen leave her room?
Alm.
I cannot tell; but here is nurse who can.
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Hild.
How is my grandchild?
Nurse.
Very well, my lord.
Heaven bless your lordship! You are a stranger here;
But births compose old quarrels.
[Hildebrand shows displeasure.]
For her eyes—
As like her father's as a pair of beads;
And such a handsome nose! I think we know
From whom your lordship's grandchild takes her nose!
And noticing already!
Enter two Men-servants with cushions and shawls. They cross the hall to the back, the Nurse nodding approval.
Hild.
And the queen's health?
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Oh, wonderful! Her grace will take the air
To-day for the first time.
Servant.
Where shall we put them?
Nurse.
Under the chestnut, by the bed of pinks,
Beside the carp-pond. I must see myself!
The queen will come immediately, my lord.
[goes out, preceded by the Men-servants.]
Hild.
Go after them.
Alm.
I am in attendance here.
Hild.
Attend without, then! I would be alone
With the king's wife, my daughter.
[Almeric goes out sullenly.]
Enter Osmunda, attended by Ladies, one of whom carries Sybil.
Osm.
(surprised and gratified).
Happily—
Most happily! My first encounter, father!
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Sweet peace betide you; joy and all delight!
[They are both embarrassed. At last Osmunda leads her father by the hand to the Lady who carries Sybil.]
Your child, my dear?
Osm.
My child! She is asleep.
Oh, you should see her eyes! like sapphire lamps
Burning with sacred fire! They laugh at me;
But I am sure she knew me yesterday.
[accompanies the Ladies out, and returns immediately.]
You wish to see the king? You will be friends?
Hild.
Do you desire it?
Osm.
Why am I his wife?
Hild.
That was my fault and folly. And I come
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Osm.
Oh, sir, beg no one's pardon! Be yourself!
Hild.
I am myself now truly; and what amends
May yet be wrung from destiny, I mean
To gladden you withal.
[They sit.]
The king has thrust
The state aside like useless lumber; rears
Himself alone in front of Lombardy,
Dazzling the foolish world. Furbished, equipped,
And amply manned, by stealth and unprovoked,
Against the Franks he marches forth tomorrow.
Osm.
Against the Franks!
Hild.
It is reported so.
Their new king, Pepin, has made a name in war,
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Who cherish peace and reverence law, will choke
This outrage ere it issue to the light.
Osm.
What do you mean?
Hild.
You must know all in time;
This, now: We shall proclaim our Lucian king;
You, regent.
Osm.
Regent—king! while Urban lives?
Hild.
(rises; deliberately).
No.
Osm.
(rises, and withdraws from her father).
You would not murder him!
Hild.
We shall do
No murder. Urban is the rebel; we,
His peers, have sat in judgment. All my friends
Await us at my house. Thither I go.
Come after with your daughter, openly.
Osm.
My father plots against my husband's life!
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What! would you spare a husband you abhor?
[grasps her hand.]
Do what I say.
Osm.
I will not do this thing.
Hild.
Will not! Osmunda!
[releases her hand, and speaks persuasively, imploringly.]
But I hide the heart
Of my desire. Not for a jealous clique,
Not to crown Lucian, nor avenge your wrongs
Or my defeat, have I in prudent age
And the dispassionate temper time implants,
Belied my judgment, strangled every birth
Of conscience, fertile yet as the fresh ground
In times Saturnian, though blood be stale
And life at ebb; but I have gagged my thought,
Tarnished the silver of the years myself
In reverence held, for you and for your child,
My blood, that it may reign in Lombardy.
101
Ruse upon ruse, as studied and secure
As any gambit, have I planned it out
To make my grandchild queen. This perfect plot
Was nurtured in my brain while in your womb
Your daughter grew; and their affinity
Is indestructible: the plot, the child,
Are one; my blood, my brain. Throughout these months
Of impotence, dishonour, nothingness,
The infamy and canker of defeat,
By this design transmuted, seemed to me
Renown and health. My daughter dare not thwart me!
Osm.
I am a wife; and to the king, my husband,
I will be loyal: a mother, and Urban's child
Shall never say that I deceived her father
102
[sits again, trembling at the direct conflict with her father.]
Hild.
You will not come!
Osm.
(rises; beseechingly).
Oh, escape
This cruel goad of power! Stay here by me:
The plot will melt away if you withdraw.
Stay by me all the evening; sleep here to-night;
And in the morning this will be a dream.
Hild.
And leave my daughter, whom I offered up
On the stained altar of a loveless bed,
A nightly victim, while my stricken soul
Discerns its guilt, and grasps expedient means
Of reparation and deliverance!
Osm.
I am contented—happy, as I am.
Hild.
It is your weakness speaks! When Urban dies,
Your true love Lucian, for a time, perhaps—
103
This is to tempt—to tempt! The king must know!
[runs to the door of the Council-room, and opening it, looks in.]
Not here!—What shall I do?
Hild.
(to himself).
At fault! at fault!
Now must I act at once! Leave her in doubt—
I know her nature—she will fear to speak.—
Truly, Osmunda, my conspiracy
Is rooted in your will. You cast it out;
It dies, and as I say it, disappears
Into the limbo of abortive things.
If I have hurt you yet it was for you
I chiefly wrought. Forget it.
Osm.
You will stay?
Hild.
Stay?
Osm.
Yes, with me until to-morrow.
Hild.
No;
I must instruct my friends, or they may move
104
Osm.
Stay by me!
Hild.
I cannot. Rest in peace. All shall be well.
[goes out.]
Osm.
All shall be well!—Do I misjudge this man—
My father?—who would pander to my dream,
And tear from heaven a memory insphered
Among the stars, as distant and as sweet!
Re-enter Nurse.
Nurse.
Madam!—madam!
Osm.
Bring me my baby, nurse.
Nurse.
But, madam, we—
Osm.
And bid them all return.
[Nurse goes out in a huff.]
My heart has quite forgotten Lucian, now!
Only the spirit of my early love
Is vigilant above me in the skies.—
To tell my husband? To accuse my father!
105
Were I to tell of it, and he repent!—
I know what I shall do; I see a way!
How glad I am the king had gone!—
[goes to the door at the back.]
Quick, nurse!
Re-enter Nurse, Servants, and Ladies with Sybil.
Osm.
(taking Sybil in her arms).
Poor mite!—poor little woman. Had you been
A boy—I had not loved you better! No!—
Go in.
[gives Sybil to the Nurse.]
Nurse.
Already, madam? Why the air
Is like a cup of hippocras!
Osm.
A cup
Is brewing, nurse, I hope we may set by.
Get all of you into the turret-room; stay there
Till I return.
Nurse.
Oh, madam—
106
Not a word!
[detaining one of her Ladies.]
You come with me. I am going to the camp;
Out by the garden gate and through the city,
To see the Duke of Garda, or to take
Command myself. I have a thing to do.—
No; arm in arm. Cover your face.
[Osmunda and one of her Ladies veil their faces and go out by a private door, while the Nurse, etc., return to their apartments.
Re-enter Almeric. He draws aside the curtain and shows Thrasimund still asleep. Ulric re-enters at the same time.
Ulr.
How is the patient?
Alm.
Judging by his hue
In a high fever. Is Violante coming?
Ulr.
She follows me.
Alm.
The ruddy-cheeked Adonis
107
[Ulric goes out, while Thrasimund opens his eyes, blinks, sits up, twists about his head, and rubs his neck.]
Thra.
Been sleeping in a draught? and with a draught
In me, now I remember. Filthy stuff!
Something has happened. I have been asleep—
That's certainty. Was it rejuvenescence?
The beauty sleep? I wonder.
[rises and comes down, endeavouring to walk with a youthful stride, but soon drops into the old man's shuffle.]
Elixir Vitæ
Is not a remedy for rheumatism.
Alm.
(affecting not to know Thrasimund).
You wish to see the king?
Thra.
Yes . . . you . . . .
Alm.
What name
108
Re-enter Ulric.
Thra.
And you? Do you not know me?
Ulr.
Know you? Not from Adam!
Alm.
Where's Thrasimund?
Ulr.
His chair is empty!
Alm.
(professing to recognize him).
Thrasimund! By heaven!
Ulr.
Not a day older now than Almeric!
Alm.
Frankly, my lord, I thought the mage a quack;
But such a sprightly eye, such lustrous looks,
And the whole juvenility and joy
Of life, your effluence and aureole
Proclaim the matchless virtue of the elixir.
Thra.
(feeling his chin).
My beard! It seems to have removed my beard.
Alm.
It has a power—
Thra.
And left me my moustache!
109
And subtlety beyond belief.
Ulr.
(whispering).
The king,
Until Saturnia has been and gone,
Sees no one, Almeric. Astounding news!
[They talk apart.]
Thra.
(to himself).
This, my moustache, which once was grey, is now
A very brilliant auburn—and my hair.
When I was young—the first time—I believe
The hue was mousy-brown. A potent draught!
An impotent old fool! If it had turned
My ancient rheumatism to muscle now,
And made me feel a youth! Perhaps the feeling
Develops later on. I took the thing
Internally; but medicine so occult
May start its operation from without.
I am in process of renovation. Faith
Is always half the cure. I will behave,
110
The magic potion.
Re-enter Philadelphus and Junipert. The latter, endeavouring to shake off Philadelphus, walks quickly round the hall; but the philosopher sticks to him.
Phil.
So my philosophy
In character is altogether new;
The essence of a personal experience
Not to be brought to book by culture; but—
Thra.
(catching Philadelphus's sleeve).
The sorcerer himself! It was no dream!
You gave me of the Elixir Vitæ?
Phil.
Yes.
[takes Thrasimund by the shoulders and gravely examines his appearance.]
The pupil—thirty; iris—twenty-five.
The agency has not been equable.
Show me your tongue. A little pallid; that,
111
Your pulse?—Umph!—Sixty-six, but regular.
Complexion sanguine; the moustache and hair
A goodly red. In spite of certain faults,
Irregularities that mark in you
The assimilation of rejuvenescence,
I honestly pronounce you, let us say,
A healthy, capable courageous man
Of twenty-eight.
Thra.
But then my rheumatism?
Phil.
The pain of that may trouble you for long,
Just as the soldier who has lost a foot
May feel its corns in rainy weather shoot.
But I assure you it is gone, quite gone.
Thra.
I see.
Phil.
And were you certain of your health
Already, you were less or more than man.
But you can test and prove your youth at once
112
The Queen of Lombardy—
Thra.
Osmunda!
Phil.
No;
Saturnia. The Elixir innovates
Not the imbiber only, but the whole
Condition of the world. Have patience, now.
The mystery will unfold itself in time.
You must approach Saturnia when she comes;
Address her gallantly; recall your youth;
Employ your fascination; play the man;
Observe how your appearance and your talk
Enchant the queen, and be convinced for good.
Thra.
What shall I talk about?
Phil.
A traveller asks
A subject of discourse!
Thra.
Why, to be sure!
113
Enter two Girls garlanded, playing on pipes. After them young Men and Maidens representing Eros and Psyche, Maia, Flora, Vertumnus and Pomona, Sylvanus, Faunus, Pan, Nymphs and Shepherds with thyrsi and crooks.
After these Saturnia, wearing a gold crown and a rich robe of state, followed by her Seneschal, Chamberlain, and other Officers fantastically dressed. Junipert joins the group. Ulric goes out quickly.
Sat.
The king—where is he?
Phil.
(whispering).
Briskly now, my lord.
Thra.
The king is busy in his chamber, madam.
Sat.
Who is this lord?
[sits in a chair which has been placed for her in the centre of the hall.]
Thra.
My name is Thrasimund,
114
Of Lombardy I went by Danube's banks!
And to behold that river would surprise you:
Out of the land it bursts with such a force,
Such volume that for thirty miles the sea
Is sweet as mountain springs. Jerusalem?
A marvellous city! This astonished me:
It has no river; now I always thought
It stood upon the Jordan. Not at all:
The Jordan rolls its waves a long way off.
Were you aware of that?
Sat.
Why this to me?
Thra.
I wish to entertain you with my travels.
Sat.
Indeed you entertain me wondrously!
Thra.
Why, that consoles and gratifies me, madam.
And if you knew the reason of my wish
To please, to entertain, to fascinate,
You would be highly pleased, and entertained,
115
Enter Violante. She comes slowly down the hall, unseen by Thrasimund.
Ulr.
(whispering to Philadelphus).
Look; Violante and the crisis comes!
Sat.
Pray, fascinate me, then.
Thra.
In me behold,
If men be true and alchemy no lie,
The most astounding creature in the world.
Sat.
Indeed I think you are!
Thra.
My lustrous looks
Have drawn remark already; but the source,
The secret of my beauty—
Sat.
I understand
At last! You are a treasure to the king,
A constant solace, doubtless.—Junipert,
I have no court fool. See that you get me one.
Could he be lent me for a day or two?
116
Magician!
[looks about for Philadelphus, who has hidden himself at the back of the hall.]
Court fool! lend me!
Viol.
It is I
Who have the lending of this gentleman.
Thra.
(much dismayed).
My dear—
Viol.
Come home with me, sir. We are quits!
Thra.
(becoming intensely excited).
I'm not the old uxorious fool I was;
A young man, Violante! I have drained
The last known drops of the Elixir Vitæ.
It may be I shall never die.
Viol.
Come home!
Thra.
The world's my home; doomsday my only fear!
117
Your majesty!
[Urban ignores Thrasimund, and advances gravely to Saturnia, who rises, curtsies, and before Urban can prevent her, kisses his hand. Thrasimund continues in a loud voice to Violante.]
It was the king himself
Who dropped the Elixir Vitæ in the cup.
It made it blue; he saw me drink: the king
Is art and part in my rejuvenescence!
Urb.
You have a fair Saturnian following.
Sat.
My life is empty; and it feeds my thought
118
[Urban gives Saturnia his hand across the hall to the door of the Council-room, where Ulric leads her out.]
Urb.
Await me in the presence-room.
Thra.
Now then!
Urb.
Show him a mirror.
[Almeric takes from the wall the burnished shield which Thrasimund had used, and holds it before him.]
The Coeval Angle!
Thra.
(stares at the shield; thrusts his face into it; with his handkerchief he wipes his cheek and sees the rouge. He strikes the shield with his fist; braces himself and stands very stiffly amid the subdued laughter of the bystanders).
But I will be avenged for this; I will,
119
[goes out at a measured pace.]
Urb.
The thirst for vengeance has renewed his strength,
And thus the Elixir Vitae operates.
Viol.
(demurely).
Have you no mercy for a penitent?
Urb.
Attend your husband, madam; treat him well.
(To Saturnia's retinue, gaily).
What we can offer you in lieu of nectar,
What mortal viands least worthy the disdain
Of your immortal palates, shall be placed
Before you. Pleasure at your table wait.
[goes out through the Council-room. Almeric and Ulric are ushering Saturnia's retinue by a private door as the curtain falls.]
NO INTERVAL.
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