University of Virginia Library

Scene II

Rappaccini's Garden. Afternoon.
Across the front of the stage runs an arcade of marble arches on light pillars, in the style of Fra Giocondo, the spandrels decorated with medallions, forming a corridor, the floor of which has a tessellated pavement. Through the arches is seen the garden, a broad walk R. running to the back of the stage, between flower-beds; a row of termini on one side. Half-way up the stage a second walk, with high hedge of box, crosses it at right angles. At the back of the stage a marble staircase leads to a grove of ilex-trees on a higher level. A palace front is seen behind them. A fountain L. with a marble sarcophagus, out of which grows the great poison-plant. Behind this a statue of Persephone amid cypresses. A doorway R. leads to Rappaccini's house. A bench just within the arcade faces the footlights. A brazen incense-burner, in which incense is burning, is placed on the ground near the fountain. The curtain rises to solemn music, showing the stage darkened by an approaching thunderstorm, with flashes of sheet lightning.
Rappaccini is seen coming slowly down the main walk, Music.
Rappa.
Elohim! Elohim! Ye elemental powers
Who walk in darkness, yet are purest light,
Inspire me now! I go to my great proof.
[He approaches the fountain, and stands with folded arms, gazing at the sarcophagus. Distant thunder heard.
The hour should now be almost come. Maria!
Canst thou speak yet?

Voice of the Dead Woman.
I hear thee. All is well.

Rappa.
O most victorious martyr, holiest saint,
Now is our triumph near! Speak, will the Magi
Come to the mystic nuptial, when the blood
Weds with the fire?

[Thunder.
Voice.
They will surely come.

Rappa.
Who shall renew the world?

Voice.
The Reconciler.

Rappa.
Darest thou yet speak his name?

Voice.
Incarnate Love.

Rappa.
Tarries he still?

Voice.
He treads the opposing ways.

Rappa.
When shall they meet in one?

[A loud peal of thunder.
Voice.
Darkness o'erwhelms me,
And silence dumbs my tongue. Farewell! Farewell!

[The music ceases. The storm passes slowly away.
Rappa.
Enough that thou hast spoken. Beatrice!

[Beatrice appears from the house R.
Bea.
My father!

Rappa.
Now creation's mystery
Waits its apocalypse. My Beatrice,
Daughter of the world's destiny, conceived
From the beginning for the world's release;
Mother of its crowning race, new Eve, earth's queen,
Fed from the flowers of this mysterious garden,
With the sweet honey which has made men mad,
But now shall make them gods, be wise to-day.

Bea.
What must I do, dear father?

Rappa.
What thou wilt.
Be free to obey the voice of thine own heart;
And the great Magi, who are lords of life,
Endow thy soul with wisdom.

[He lays his hands on her head.
Bea.
Thou art moved,
My father, past all wont. Is there some danger
To me or to thy great designs through me?

Rappa.
Yes, there is danger. Canst thou keep the path?

Bea.
With exultation, wheresoe'er it lead.
Point me the way.

Rappa.
The hour brings its own light.
Walk in that light. For death, or the new birth,
This youth comes to the trial; and this hour
The choosers of the bridegroom choose thro' thee.

Bea.
I lean upon their arms and have no fear.

Rappa.
'Tis bravely spoken. Come, take up the brazier,
Feed it, and where thou knowest, set it still burning.

[Beatrice takes up the brazier, and exit into the house R.
My lamp of life is flickering to decay.
Yet I shall reach the goal. I must, I must!
[Exit, following Beatrice. A pause. Music, during which the sun shines brightly out.
Enter into the corridor, L., Guasconti. He passes into the garden and walks about examining the flowers.
Guas.
On wings of wild desire I entered here,
A few tumultuous pulse-beats past; and now
A deadly numbness masters heart and soul.
The unholy power hymned in Sidonian groves,
Works in the curious breeding of these forms
Unnatural intermixture. Tigerish things,
Alluring flowers breathing voluptuous dreams
Of sumptuous Babylonian harlotries,
Bask in these closes, where the gendering sun
Glows like the thirsty fires of hell. No wind
Of wholesome passion stirs my lethargy.
Is this the garden's curse?

[He sits upon the bench.
Enter Beatrice from the house. She stands gazing at him, then speaks.
Bea.
I am here, Giovanni.

Guas.
Save me! I sink in an enchanted sleep.

Bea.
'Tis the dull apathy of death in life.
The talisman! Sirocco never breathed
On man such deadly languor as these flowers.

[He kisses the talisman, rises slowly, turns and looks at her.
Guas.
And never where the rosy feet of morn
Print first the chestnut glades of Apennine,
Fell healing dews more soft than from thine eyes.

Bea.
Oh, I am glad, and bless the gentle powers
That gave them healing, thee to feel it so.
Come, let us talk. I have a thousand questions
To ask of thy strange world.

Guas.
But first of thine?

Bea.
If thou wouldst learn this garden's hidden lore,
Turn to the ancient wisdom of my father.

Guas.
Nay, let me be thy pupil, only thine.
Art thou not skilled in deep philosophy,
Able to teach with thy mellifluous breath
Truths more recondite than enriched the tongue
Of virgin-sages in their later Greece?

Bea.
[Smiling.]
Nay, I am no fair sage.

Guas.
Art thou not then
Mistress of magic learning?

Bea.
O believe not
The tales they tell in the misdeeming world
Of me and of my arts. Judge me alone
By what thine eyes attest.

Guas.
Prescribe my creed;
Bid me believe thy lips and not mine eyes,
And I'll believe them.

Bea.
[Agitated.]
What lurks in thy thought?

Guas.
I saw—or thought I saw—

Bea.
[Sternly.]
Give it no tongue,
If it be evil count thine eyes but liars.
The things we see are symbols void of sense
Until the soul interprets. Read me then
By the quick-throbbing flame within thy soul.

Guas.
I'll read thee by the splendour of thine eyes,
Which are deep wells of light, fed from the springs
Of thy divinest spirit.

Bea.
Well, let us talk
Of the great world that lies beyond this garden.

Guas.
Is it to thee a world unknown?

Bea.
I know it
But in dim pictures of the magic glass,
Wherein I have seen sad things, conned tragic tales
In act before mine eyes.

Guas.
What hast thou seen?

Bea.
The world, I find, is but a poison-garden
Far worse than ours; for here my father's art
From venomous roots distils balsamic dews
Which have the power of healing. There it seems
The sweetest joys are seed of deadliest bale.

Guas.
Sad wisdom, learnt too early!

Bea.
Is it wisdom?
I never talked before with anyone
Out of that world. My father, like a stranger,
Visits the ways of men, feared and not loved.
Stern and strange even to me, who love, not fear, him.

Guas.
Oh, what a lonely life thou hast led here!

Bea.
Yes, very lonely, now I feel how lonely.

Guas.
Would that my poor desert might crave a glimpse
Of the rare treasures of thy maiden thought,
Locked in the unopened casket of thy mind!

Bea.
View them but as the treasures of a child.
I'll tell thee first how first upon my spirit
Fell the great shadow of the wings of death,
There to abide. It was an April morning,
And I, a tiny child, had run alone
Into the bosco which o'erglooms the garden,
Where, in the shade of the dark ilex-trees,
Pale cyclamens, like tender flames of spring,
Pierced through the rotting leaves.

Guas.
I did not dream
That in these precincts grew such harmless flowers.

Bea.
[Sighing.]
They grew there once, but now they grow no more.

Guas.
A theme of sorrow. Well?

Bea.
Night's hoary dews
Lay thick on the young grass and fallen leaves,
Drenching my feet, which stirred at every step
Fresh vernal scents; and all the bliss of spring
Ached in my dancing blood.

Guas.
Sweet Beatrice!
Thy words are odours breathed from childhood's fields,
In the rich balm of thy perfumèd breath.

Bea.
[Aside.]
Oh, he can drink the poison of my breath
And take no hurt! [Aloud.]
I filled my baby hands
With cyclamens, and down yon marble stair
Danced in pure ecstasy, down into the sunshine,
And past me as I came dashed a sweet pair
Of Love's brown birds, the wooer and the wooed,
Winged with the joy of life into this garden.

Guas.
And then—

Bea.
They wooed no more. I saw them flash
Into the bower of such a parasite
As thou see'st there, that gaudy vampire thing
Whose clinging sucks its victim's life away.
Then—

Guas.
What befell?

Bea.
They dropped like arrows spent
And on the walk lay dead. And a great awe
Fell on me, though I thought they did but sleep;
For I knew sleep, while death I did not know.

Guas.
Poor child!

Bea.
My treasured bunch of cyclamens
From my hot hand fell withering on the walk,
And their two tiny bodies, warm as life
Still, with their passionate blood, I tenderly
Took up, and soothed their helpless wings, and laid
Softly each drooping head, and sped within
To show them to my nurse.

Guas.
And she?

Bea.
She told me
The tale we all must hear and wonder at.

Guas.
That we are as the birds?

Bea.
I questioned her
If death were in the world as in our garden.
She told me how I was her fosterling,
And her own son, the babe she had forsook
To nourish me, had died. And I know now
I was his parasite.

Guas.
Nay, think not of it
With self-accusing.

Bea.
'Tis the commonplace
Of nature, we are all but parasites,
We live upon each other, and the strong
Eat up the weak.

Guas.
Too long thou hast dwelt alone,
Companioned by dark spectres of the mind.

Bea.
I have seen life within the magic glass,
The prey of madness, and disease and death.

Guas.
What fascination drew thee thus to pore
Upon the wounds of life?

Bea.
It is the hope
By which I live that I was born to bring
Some ease to the sick world; for all the sorrows
That haunt the house of tears ache in me still,
Like the seven swords piercing Our Lady's breast

Guas.
Even such a moment's passion I have known,
But like a coward shrank from the great cross
Whereon the world is crucified. I thought
Joy is man's rightful heritage, and I
The prince of that lost kingdom—give me joy!

Bea.
How may we win the world that heritage?

Guas.
Oh, I know now, love is the only joy
In earth or heaven. Thou, Beatrice, thou
Art my lost kingdom's queen, and winning thee
I win my heritage. Crown me, Madonna!
Here, as thy knight, I kneel and kiss thy hand.

[He kneels and tries to take her hand. She recoils.
Bea.
Nay, touch me not. Alas! what shall I say?
There lies invisible betwixt us two
A gulf as deep as death.

Guas.
Oh, let me cross it
Borne on Love's wings.

Bea.
It may not be—not yet.
As well the torrid and the frozen zone
May meet in one, as thou and I. Not yet—
Perhaps—

Guas.
I'll dare more than Leander did
For Hero.

Bea.
That was pastime for a boy
To the strange peril thou must face for me.

Guas.
For thee, for thee! this challenge of my love,
So sweetly, gravely given, wakes a wild hope
That thou wouldst fain be won. O Beatrice,
I grow too bold! Pardon the audacious dream
Thou hast inspired.

Bea.
Our voices rang so clear
Across the gulf, misted with morning dreams,
I had almost forgotten that my love
Were scathing fire to thee. Yet hope, and dare.

Guas.
I am a moth whose passion for a star
Pants in the sightless frenzy of its wings
For mere annihilation.

Bea.
O my beloved!
Would I might give—

[She suddenly presses her hand to her heart.
Guas.
What sudden pan pang assails thee?

Bea.
The garden claims me. O my sister flower,
When till this day ever did I forget thee?
And now I had forgot.

[She approaches the fountain; Guasconti rushes forward.
Guas.
The flower, the magic flower! Grant me but one,
One splendid bloom, my lilies are o'erpaid.

[He attempts to pluck a flower.
Bea.
Back, for thy life!

[She seizes his hand, he recoils with a cry.
Guas.
Ah my hand burns!

Bea.
No more?
I have not slain thee! Oh, thou art pure in heart.

Guas.
The searching fire shoots through me, vein by vein.
'Tis agony and yet I do not die.

Bea.
It is the cleansing alchemy of love.
The sun within thee burns in his own fires,
And I, the o'erwintered earth, await his beams.

Guas.
I will endure and wait the destined hour.

Bea.
I have waited long to hear the bridegroom's voice;
Now there come whisperings, as of vernal winds,
In budding trees. My father bade me live
As one predestined to a glorious task,
The healing in the world of love's deep wound.

Guas.
We must go forth, the bridegroom and the bride,
To win earth's kingdoms.

Bea.
Canst thou read my thoughts?
Yet, yet—we must part now. Dear love, farewell
If thou canst trust me still, meet me to-morrow.
Come when the sinking sun leaves the young moon
Pale on his glowing throne.

Guas.
My faith in thee
Stands firm as Atlas; not a single star
Shall fall from our love's heaven. Drive quickly, moon,
Bring with thy dragon steeds our meeting hour.

[As he passes into the corridor, Rappaccini appears at the door R. Beatrice slowly follows Guasconti, kissing her hand to him.
Bea.
Farewell!

Guas.
Farewell!

[Exit Guasconti, L. Rappaccini, advancing, looks after him.
Rappa.
The powers have made their choice: he does not die.
They shall go forth to purge the festering world,
Saving and slaying, death to evil things,
And healing to the chosen ones of God.

Drop Scene Falls