University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE, same as Act I.
Darine, Zayda, Leila, Locrine, other Fairies, and Neodie discovered anxiously watching the entrance to Selene's bower.
Dar.
Still, still Selene watches Ethais!
For six long hours has she detained the knight
Within the dark recesses of her bower,
Under pretence that his unhappy wound
Demands her unremitting watchfulness!
(Indignantly.)
This, fairies, is our queen!—the sinless soul
To whose immaculate pre-eminence
We pure and perfect maidens of the air
Accord our voluntary reverence!

Zay.
Her conduct is an outrage on her sex!
Was it for this that we proposed to her
That we should bring these mortals to our land?
Is this the way to teach this erring man
The moral beauties of a spotless life?
To teach him truths that now he wots not of?
Surely this knight might well have learnt on earth
Such moral truths as she is teaching him.

Enter Selene from bower, Darine retires up.
Lei.
At last she comes! (To Selene.)
We are well pleased to find
That, after such a lengthy vigil, thou
Canst tear thyself away from Ethais!

Sel.
Yes, dearest sister, he is calmer now.
(To Zay.)
Oh! this has been a fearful night for him;
Not for one moment have I left his side!

Zay.
Poor Ethais! Believe us, sister dear,
He has our heartfelt pity.

Sel.
All night long
He tossed and raved in wild delirium;
Shouting for arms, and, as it seemed to me,
Fighting his fight with Phyllon o'er again.
At length, as morning broke, he fell asleep,
And slept in peace till half an hour ago.
I watched him through the long and troubled night,
Fanning the fever from his throbbing brow,
Till he awoke. At first he gazed on me
In silent wonderment; then, suddenly
Seizing my hand, he pressed it to his lips,
And swore that I had saved him from the grave—
Mark that—the grave! I—I had saved his life!
He told me that he loved me—loved me well;
That I was fairer than the maids of earth—
That I had holy angel-eyes, that rained
A gentle pity on his stubborn heart—
(He called it stubborn, for he knew it not);
That I was fairer, in his worldly eyes,
Than all the maids on earth or in the clouds!

(Darine, who has listened with intense anxiety to this speech, goes off silently, but in an agony of grief.)
Zay.
(spitefully).
Could any words more eloquently show
The recklessness of his delirium?

Sel.
(surprised).
Nay, he was conscious then.

Neo.
(very kindly).
Of course he was!
No doubt, Selene, thou hast gained his love.
Be happy in it, dearest sister; but
In thy proud triumph, love, pray recollect
He had not seen us!

Zay.
Thou hast wisely done
To keep him from our sight. Cage thou thy bird,
Or he may fly to fairer homes than thine.

Sel.
(amazed).
What mean you, sisters? Nay, turn not away—
What have I done?

Loc.
(very spitefully).
Indeed we do not know;
But, lest we should affect his love for thee,
We will at once withdraw.

[Exit Locrine, bowing ironically.
Lei.
(with freezing politeness).
Good day to you!

Neo.
Good day!

Zay.
Good day. Remember—cage thy bird!

[Exit.
Sel.
How strangely are my sisters changed to me!
Have I done wrong? No, no, I'm sure of that.
The knight was sorely stricken—he had died
But for my willing care. Oh! earthly love,
Thou mighty minister of good or ill,
Is it for good or ill that thou art here?
Art thou an element of happiness,
Or an unwieldy talisman that I,
In heedlessness, have turned against myself?
“He had not seen them,”—so my sister spake;
Yes, truly, there are fairer forms than mine.
He shall not see them! Oh! I am unjust.
Hath he not told me that I have his love?
There is no treachery in those brave eyes;
There is no falsehood in that gallant heart!
But still—he had not seen them. Oh, for shame!
Can love and doubt reign ever side by side?
No, Ethais, love is the death of doubt.
I love thee, Ethais, and doubt thee not!
Still it were better that he saw but me.

(Ethais has entered unperceived from bower and overheard the last three lines. He is very pale and weak, and his arm is in a sling.)
Eth.
Selene, I am weak—give me thine hand.

Sel.
My love, thou shouldst not yet have left thy couch!
Come—thou hast need of rest.

Eth.
No, let me stay,
The air revives me—I am strong again.
And so, thou trustest me?

Sel.
In truth I do! (Sits by his side.)

Although I cannot tell thee whence proceeds
This strange, irrational belief in thee—
Thee, whom I hardly know.

Eth.
Is that so strange?
I see no marvel!

Sel.
Nay, my love, reflect,
I am a woman, and thou art a man;
Well, thou art comely—so, in truth, am I;
We meet and love each other—that's to say,
I am prepared to give up all I have,
My home, my very fairyhood, for thee;
Thou to surrender riches, honour, life,
To please the fleeting fancies of my will.
And why?
Because I see in thee, or thou in me,
Astounding virtue, brilliant intellect,
Great self-denial, venerable years,
Rare scholarship, or godly talent? No!
Because, forsooth, we're comely specimens—
Not of our own, but Nature's industry!

Eth.
The face is the true index of the mind,
A ready formula, whereby to read
The lesson of a lifetime in a glance.

Sel.
(in wonder).
Then, Ethais, is perfect comeliness
Always identified with moral worth?

Eth.
The comeliest man is the most virtuous—
That's an unfailing rule.

Sel.
Then, Ethais,
There is no holier man on earth than thou!
My sisters, Ethais, are sadly changed
By the strange power that emanates from thee.
They love thee as I love thee!

Eth.
(aside).
Do they so!
I'faith they shall not love their love in vain!

Sel.
I tell thee this that thou mayst shun them, lest
By crafty scheme and subtly planned device,
They steal thee from thy mistress unawares.

Eth.
(laughing).
No fear of that! Laugh all their schemes to scorn,
Treat them with the contempt such jades deserve.
I do not seek them.

Sel.
Does the miser treat
The thief who seeks his treasure with contempt,
Because his treasures does not seek the thief?
No, Ethais, I'll hide my gold away!
Take thou this ring—it is a pledge of love. (Giving him a ring.)

Wear it until thy love fades from thy soul.

Eth.
'Twill never fade while thou art true to me.

Sel.
(amazed).
Are women ever false to such as thou?

Eth.
Are women ever true? Well, not to me.
(Aside.)
Nor I to them; and so we square accounts!

Sel.
Then thou hast been deceived?

Eth.
A dozen times.

Sel.
How terrible!

Eth.
Yes, terrible indeed!
Ah, my Selene, picture to thyself
A man—linked for his life to one he loves.
She is his world—she is the breath he breathes;
In his fond eyes the type of purity.
Well, she is false—all women are—and then
Come tidings of his shame, the damning words,
“I love another, I have cheated thee.”
At first it cannot be, it is a dream;
And when by slow procession, step by step,
He sees in it the waking from a dream,
His heavy heart stands still—he dies a death,
A momentary death—to wake again
Into a furious life of hot revenge;
His hand against all men; his maddened tongue
Calling down curses on his cheated self;
On him who stole her love, on all but her
Who has called down this crowning curse on him!
To find her love a lie, her kiss a jest,
Her cherished byewords a cold mockery—
Oh, there are words
For other agonies, but none for this!

Sel.
And thou hast suffered this?

Eth.
(bitterly).
I have indeed!

Sel.
And how long does this bitter anguish last?

Eth.
Well, in a very serious case, all night!
Next day a fairer face, a nobler form,
A purer heart, a gentler maidenhood,
Will set him dreaming as he dreamt before
Until the time for waking comes again;
And so the round of love runs through our lives!

Sel.
But these are earthly maidens, Ethais—
My love is purer than a mortal's love.

Eth.
Thine is no mortal love if it be pure.

Sel.
(horrified).
Then, mortal Ethais, what love is thine?

Eth.
(taken aback).
I spake of women—men are otherwise.

Sel.
Man's love is pure, invariably?

Eth.
Pure?
Pure as thine own!

Sel.
Poor, trusting, cheated souls!

[Exeunt together into bower.
Enter Darine, who has overheard the last few lines.
Dar.
She leads him willingly into her bower!
Oh! I could curse the eyes that meet his eyes,
The hand that touches his hand, and the lips
That press his lips! And why? I cannot tell!
Some unknown fury rages in my soul,
A mean and miserable hate of all,
[Enter Phyllon unobserved.
Who interpose between my love and me!
What devil doth possess me?

Phy.
Jealousy!

Dar.
Perhaps—what matters how the fiend is called?

Phy.
But wherefore art thou jealous? Tell me, now,
Have I done ought to cause this jealousy?

Dar.
Thou! Dost thou love me?

Phy.
Love thee? Tenderly!
I love all pretty girls, on principle.

Dar.
But is thy love an all-possessing love?
Mad, reckless, unrestrained, infuriate,
Holding thy heart within its iron grasp,
And pressing passion from its very core?

Phy.
(surprised).
Oh, yes!

Dar.
Alas! poor stricken, love-sick knight!
Phyllon, my love is such a love as thine,
But it is not for thee! Oh, nerve thyself,
I have ill tidings for thee, gentle knight!
I love thee not!

Phy.
Indeed?

Dar.
Is it not strange?

Phy.
Most unaccountable.

Dar.
(disappointed).
But tell me, now,
Art thou not sorely vexed?

Phy.
(quietly).
Unspeakably.

Dar.
But thou'lt forgive me? Tell me, Phyllon, now,
That I am pardoned!

Phy.
That, indeed, thou art.

Dar.
(hurt).
Phyllon, hast thou despised my proffered love,
I'd not have pardoned thee!

Phy.
No, women don't.

Dar.
(impatiently).
But dost thou understand? I love thee not.
I, whom thou lovest, Phyllon, love thee not—
Nay, more, I love another—Ethais!
Thou hast a rival, and a favoured one.
Dost thou not hear me?

Phy.
(surprised).
Yes; I'm deeply pained.

Dar.
(delighted).
Thou art?

Phy.
Of course. What wouldst thou have me do?

Dar.
Do? Hurl thyself headlong to yonder earth,
And end at once a life of agony!

Phy.
Why should I!

Dar.
Why? Because I love thee not!
Why if I loved and found my love despised,
The universe should ring with my laments;
And were I mortal, Phyllon, as thou art,
I would destroy myself!

Phy.
Ha! ha! If all
Heartbroken lovers took that course, the world
Would be depopulated in a week!
And so thou lovest Ethais?

Dar.
(enthusiastically).
I do!

Phy.
But still (I may be wrong) it seems to me
He's taken with Selene—

Dar.
(furiously).
Name her not!
He feigns a love he does not feel, because
She is our queen. He dares not anger her!

Phy.
But art thou sure of this?

Dar.
(bitterly).
Oh! am I sure!
Look in these eyes—they do not burn for thee;
Behold this form—that thou shalt never clasp—
Gaze on these lips—thou shalt not press them, sir!
And tell me, now, that Ethais loves me not!
Oh! had I but the power to heal his wound,
And free him from her hated company!

Phy.
Were Lutin here, he would assist thy plan.

Dar.
Lutin?

Phy.
His henchman, and a cunning leech;
He has a charm—a potent talisman—
A panacea that will heal all wounds;
Fetch him, and Ethais is healed again.

Dar.
(aside).
The gods have heard me! (Aloud, suddenly.)
Oh; insensate knight,
Thou counsellest me how to gain his love;
And yet thou lovest me?

Phy.
Oh, pardon me,
That was ten minutes since—an age ago!

[Exit.
Dar.
Here comes the miserable, mincing jade,
With a fair speech upon her lying lips,
To meet the sister whom her base-born arts
Have robbed of more than life! Oh, hypocrite!

Enter Selene from bower.
Sel.
Darine!

Dar.
(changing her manner).
My sister—my beloved one,
Why, thou art sad; thine eyes are dim with tears!
Say, what hath brought thee grief?

Sel.
(with great joy).
Darine, my own.
Thou dost not shun me, then?

Dar.
(aside).
Oh, hypocrite!
(Aloud.)
Shun thee, my own Selene? No—not I!

Sel.
Bless thee for that! I feared to meet thy face,
For all my loved companions turned from me
With scornful jest and bitter mockery.
Thou—thou—Darine, alone art true to me!

Dar.
True to Selene while Selene breathes!
Come—tell me all thy woes.

Sel.
My Ethais—
He whom I love so fondly—he is ill,
And I am powerless to heal his wound.
Darine, my love may die!

Dar.
What can be done?
Oh, I would give my fairyhood to save
The man thou lovest so—my dearly loved!
But stay, the counterpart of Lutin is
At once his henchman and his cunning leech;
Lutin has left our sphere, (plucking rose from tree)
cast this to earth, (giving it)

And summon mortal Lutin to his aid
He hath a charm to heal thy lover's wound.

Sel.
Kind Heaven reward thee for thy ready wit,
My sister, thou hast saved both him and me!
My darling sister! (Embracing her.)


Dar.
aside.
Oh, thou hypocrite!

Sel.
Fair rose, I name thee Lutin, go to earth,
And hither send the mortal counterpart
Of him whose name thou hast, and may the gods
Prosper thy mission! Kiss me, dear Darine, (kissing her)

For thou hast saved my Ethais for me!

[Exit Selene.
Dar.
No, not for thee, good sister, for myself!

[Exit Darine.
(Hurried music. Enter Mortal Lutin over edge of precipice, staggering on the stage as if violently impelled from below.)
Lut.
What ho! help! help! Where am I? Not on earth
For I remember that a friendly cloud
Enveloped me, and whirled me through the air,
Just as my fair, but able-bodied, wife,
Began to lay my staff about my ears!
Enter Neodie, Leila, Locrine, and others.
Can this be death, and has she killed me? (Sees them.)
Well,
If I be dead, and if this be the place
In which I'm doomed to expiate my sins,
Taking my sins all round, I'm bound to say
It might have been considerably worse!

Loc.
(approaching him with great delight).
Why, this is Lutin's mortal counterpart!

Neo.
How quaint! How gloriously rugged?

Lei.
Yes!
Such character and such expression!

All
(admiring him).
Yes!

Lut.
By some mistake my soul has missed its way,
And slipped into Mahomet's Paradise!

Neo.
No, this is fairyland. See, there's the earth
From which we summoned thee. These are the clouds.
Thou art not angry with us?

Lut.
Angry? No!
I'm very well up here!

Loc.
Then thou shalt stay!

Neo.
Oh, tell me, are there many men on earth
As fair and pleasant to the eye as thou?

Lut.
Not many, though I have met one or two
Who run me pretty close.

Neo.
Tell us their names.

Lut.
Well, let me see, Sir Phyllon has been thought
A personable man; then Ethais
He's fairly well.

Neo.
But these are handsome men—
We love thee for thy rugged homely face;
Oh, we are sated with mere comeliness,
We have so much of that up here! (rises)
I love
A homely face!

Lut.
I quite agree with you.
What do a dozen handsome men imply?
A dozen faces cast in the same mould,
A dozen mouths all lip for lip the same,
A dozen noses all of equal length?
But take twelve plain men, and the element
Of picturesque variety steps in,
You get at once unlooked-for hill and dale—
Odd curves and unexpected points of light,
Pleasant surprises—quaintly broken lines;
All very pleasant, whether seen upon
The face of nature or the face of man.

Enter Zayda.
Loc.
But stay—thou shouldst be faint, for lack of food!

Neo.
Nay, let me minister unto his wants!

Zay.
Then go, beloved sisters, gather fruits,
And bring them here to him. Such frugal fare
Will have a daintier flavour than its own
When served by such fair hands! (Kissing them.)


[Exeunt Locrine, Neodie, and others.
Zay.
(suddenly).
We are alone!
One word of caution—shun my sisters all!

Lut.
Are all those lovely girls your sisters?

Zay.
Yes;
Rejoice that they are not thine own.

Lut.
I do.
I very much prefer them as they are!
You're a fine family.

Zay.
Fair to the eye;
But take good heed—they are not what they seem?
Locrine, the fair, the beautiful Locrine,
Is the embodiment of avarice!
She seeks your gold.

Lut.
I'm much obliged to her;
I'll give her half she finds and thank her too!

Zay.
Darine is vain beyond comparison;
Neodie is much older than she looks;
Camilla hath defective intellect;
Ena's a bitter shrew; Colombe's a thief;
And, last and worst of all—I blush to own,
Our queen Selene hath a tongue that stabs—
A traitor-tongue, that serves no better end
Than wag a woman's character away!

Lut.
I've stumbled into pretty company!
It seems you fairies have your faults!

Zay.
Alas!
All but myself. My soul is in my face;
I—only I—am what I seem to be;
I—only I—am worthy to be loved.
(Confidentially.)
If thou wilt love me I will dower thee
With wealth untold, long years and happy life,
Thou gallant churl—thou highly polished boor—
Thou pleasant knave—thou strange epitome
Of all that's rugged, quaint and picturesque!

Lut.
You don't take long in coming to the point.

Zay.
Forgive my clumsy and ill-chosen words;
We gentle, simple fairies never loved
Until to-day.

Lut.
And when you do begin,
You fairies make up for the time you've lost!

(The Fairies enter with fruit. He sits up. They group about him.)
Neo.
Hast thou a wife?

Lut.
Well, yes—that is—down there—
Up here I am a bachelor—as yet.

Zay.
(offended).
As yet! Be good enough to recollect
That we are good, and pure, and maidenly—
So prithee guard that errant tongue of thine.

Loc.
And does she love thee?

Lut.
Humph—we do fall out—
We did to-day.

Neo.
And how came that about? (All anxious to know.)


Lut.
Why thus—to tell the truth—between ourselves—
There was a lady in the case.

Zay.
(apart, much shocked).
Hush—hush—
Confine thyself to matters that relate
To thine own sex. Thy master, Ethais—
He fought with Phyllon—what was that about?

(Crossing to Lutin.)
Lut.
Oh, it's the old, old story!

Loc.
Tell it.

Lut.
Well,
There was a lady in the case!

Zay.
Then, stop—
Go on to something else—Where wast thou born?

Lut.
Why, in Bulgaria—some years ago—
(whispering)
There was a lady in that case!

Zay.
(severely).
It seems
There is a lady, sir, in every case.

Lut.
In all those cases they do interfere!

Enter Darine unobserved.
Loc.
And, Lutin, is thy wife as fair as thou?

Lut.
I thought her pretty till I looked on thee.

Zay.
Her hair?

Lut.
Is bright—but not as bright as thine.

Loc.
Her figure?

Lut.
Neat and graceful of its kind,
But lacks thy pleasant plumpness. Then, besides,
She has a long loud tongue, and uses it—
A stout and heavy hand—and uses that;
And large expressive eyes—and uses them!

Zay.
And does she know that thou art here with us?

Lut.
No—that's the joke! No—that's the best of it!
The gods forbid she ever should know that!
She is so plaguey jealous!

Loc.
Is she so?
How is the lady called?

Lut.
Her name's Darine.

Dar.
(coming forward).
So I have found thee, Lutin.

Lut.
(aghast).
Can it be
My wife!

Zay.
Thy wife? This is Darine!

Lut.
I know!
(They detain him).
Be quiet—don't—oblige me—let me go!
Do not suppose, my love, that these bold girls
Are friends of mine.

Dar.
Come, I would speak with thee—

Lut.
Allow me to explain.

Dar.
Attend to me.
Say, dost thou love thy master, Ethais?

Lut.
My master? Yes, most surely!

Dar.
(earnestly).
So do I!
Madly, unreasonably, recklessly. (Lutin much taken aback.)

Love him with all the passion of a heart
That love has never kindled till to-day!
Thou, only thou, canst help me, noble sir.
The gods, the gods have sent thee to my aid!

Lut.
Have they? In doing so the gods have not
Displayed their usual talent for intrigue.
O, thou abandoned woman!

Dar.
Hear me, sir!
My Ethais is wounded in the arm.
Thou hast a remedy of wondrous power,
A charmèd remedy. Give it to me,
That I may work his cure.

Lut.
Upon my soul,
Cure him for thee! This is a cool request!

Dar.
But why not heal thy master's wound?

Lut.
Because,
Under the circumstances, I prefer
My master wounded to my master well,
For when he's well, he's very well indeed!
(Aside)
But stay—here is an essence that will drown
His soul in sleep till I awaken him (taking bottle from pocket).

Shall I? I will! He'll be much safer so!
(Aloud.)
There, take the charm, and heal thy Ethais!

Dar.
A thousand thanks! Now he indeed is mine!

Lut.
Oh! this is inconceivable! Come here (Fairies advance),

D'ye see these maidens, madam? Hitherto
Thou hast been jealous, but without good cause;
But now I'll give thee cause for jealousy;
I'll pass my time with them—d'ye hear? with them—
They're very pleasant, unaffected girls;
I like them very much, and they like me—
I'll play the very devil with their hearts,
And let them play the very deuce with mine!

Dar.
Do so; I'll not detain thee from thy loves—
See how impatiently they wait for thee;
Go—while the happy hours away with them.

Lut.
Is this thy jealousy, abandoned girl?

Dar.
(surprised).
Jealous of thee? Good sir, I love thee not!

Lut.
You don't!

Dar.
No, no—I love Sir Ethais;
And when I've healed his wound, sheer gratitude
Will wake his soul to love!

Lut.
If he drinks that
Sheer gratitude won't wake him. After all (looking at Fairies, who are endeavouring to persuade him to accompany them)

Six pretty Zaydas to one Ethais—
He fast asleep, and they all wide awake,
Egad, I've six to one the best of that!

[Exeunt Lutin and Fairies.
Dar.
He comes! At last I shall behold my love!
Enter Ethais from bower.
(Tenderly.)
How fares Sir Ethais?

Eth.
Why grievously.
I am no leech, and cannot dress my wound,
I'm sick and faint from pain and loss of blood.

Dar.
(aside).
How shall I work my end? I have a plan!
Oh, powers of impudence, defend me now!
(Aloud.)
Sir Ethais, if Phyllon's words be true,
Thy wound is but a scratch.

Eth.
A scratch, forsooth!
The devil's nails could hardly scratch so deep.

Dar.
He says—I don't believe him—but he says
That thou hast magnified its character,
Because thou fearest to renew the fight.
He says thou art a coward!

Eth.
(furiously).
By my blood,
He shall atone for that! Did he say this
To thee?

Dar.
Ay, sir, to me—a minute since.

Eth.
Oh, Phyllon! Coward? Why, a dozen times
We two have fought our battles side by side;
And I'm to quail and blanch, forsooth, because
We two, at last, are fighting face to face?
Oh, curses on the wound! Were Lutin here,
My sword-arm soon would be in gear again.

Dar.
Lutin is here.

Eth.
(amazed).
Here? Lutin?

Dar.
Yes. Behold! (Shows flask.)

I have obtained this precious charm from him.
Now, knight, to prove thy mettle!

Eth.
(furiously).
Give it me—
Give me the flask!

Dar.
One moment, Ethais.
This flask is precious, and it hath a price.

Eth.
Name thou thy price, and I will give it thee.
Take money, jewels, armour, all I have,
So that thou leavest me one trusty sword!

Dar.
No, Ethais, I do not want thy wealth,
I want thy love—yes, Ethais, thy love;
That priceless love that thou hast lavished on
My worthless sister.

Eth.
On Selene?

Dar.
Yes,
Thou lovest her—and dost thou think that I
Will save thy life for her?

Eth.
Selene? Bah!
True, she is fair. Well, thou art also fair.
What does it matter—her fair face or thine?
What matters either face—or hers or thine—
When weighed against this outrage on my fame?

Dar.
Give me this ring, and thou shalt have the charm.

Eth.
'Tis thine. And now, Sir Phyllon, take good heed!

Enter Selene from bower.
Sel.
Darine! Thou here, alone with Ethais!
No, no. I will not doubt—

Dar.
Doubt whom thou wilt!
Thou hypocrite! thou shameless hypocrite!
Thou wretched victim of thine own designs!

Sel.
Darine, what dost thou mean?

Enter Fairies.
Dar.
Doubt all of us,
For we are false to thee as thou to us.
I am as thou hast made me, hypocrite!

Sel.
Thou art to me as thou hast ever been,
Most dearly loved of all these dearly loved.

Dar.
Away! Thou art the source of all our ill;
For though we counselled thee to do the deed
That brought this blight upon our innocence,
'Twas but a test, and thou hast bent to it!

Zay.
Oh, miserable woman, get thee hence!
Thou art no queen of ours!

Loc.
Away with her!
Down with the traitress queen! (Selene turns from one to another—all turn away from her.)


Sel.
So let it be.
Yes, thou hast rightly said—I had a trust.
I have forsaken it. Through my default,
The taint of earth has fallen on our land.
Mine was the sin—be mine the punishment.
Well-loved Darine, take thou this diadem:
Wear it more worthily than I. (Places her coronet on Darine.)
Behold
How royally it rests upon her brow!
My gentle sisterhood, behold your queen! (Fairies bow.)

Let her fair face and form, untainted yet
By the iniquity of my default,
Recall the loved Darine of yesterday—
The gentle, loving, maidenly Darine—
Who would have been that loved Darine to-day,
But for my erring deed. Oh, shame on me!
Thou art as I have made thee. Who am I
That I should judge my sister? I am loved;
But had I lost that love, should I have borne
My loss more patiently than thou? Alas!
Thou, I, and all, are now as mortals are.

Dar.
So may I fall if I forsake my trust.
Thy punishment is just. Thou wast a queen—
What art thou now?

Sel.
I have a kingdom yet!
I have a kingdom here—in Ethais' heart.
A kingdom? Nay, a world—my world—my world!
A world where all is pure, and good, and brave;
A world of noble thought and noble deed;
A world of brave and gentle chivalry;
A very goodly and right gallant world;—
This is my kingdom—for I am its queen!

Dar.
Thou art no queen of his, for he is mine.
Aye, by the token that thou gavest him (shows ring)
,
Thou fond and foolish maiden!

Sel.
(looking at it).
No, no, no!
It is a counterfeit—no, no, Darine!
The punishments of Heaven are merciful.
(Takes Ethais' hand to kiss it; she sees that the ring is not there.)
Oh, Ethais!
Is that the ring with which I plighted thee?

Eth.
Aye, that's the bauble. I have naught to say.

Sel.
(to Dar.).
It fell from him—where didst thou find it, speak?

Eth.
I sold it for a charm that I might have
An arm to flog a lying cur withal;
A traitor devil, whose false breath had blurred
My knightly honour, dearer to my heart
Than any love of woman—hers or thine!
I had no choice—my honour was at stake.

Sel.
Thine honour! Thou dost well to speak of that.
Can devils take the face and form of gods?
Are truth and treachery so near akin
That one can wear the other's countenance?
Are all men such as thou? Or art thou not
Of thine accursed race the most accursed?
Why, honourable sir, thou art a knight
That wars with womankind! Thy panoply
A goodly form, smooth tongue, and fair false face.
Thy shield a lie; thy weapon an embrace;
The emblem of thy skill a broken heart!
Thine is a gallant calling, Ethais—
Thou manly knight—thou soul of chivalry—
Thou most discreet and prudent warrior!
(He approaches her.)
Away, and touch me not! My nature's gone.
May Heaven rain down her fury on thy soul!
May every fibre in that perjured heart
Quiver with love for one who loves thee not!
May thine untrammelled soul at last be caught,
And fixed and chained and riveted to one
Who, with the love of heaven upon her lips,
Carries the hate of hell within her heart!
Thou phantom of the truth—thou mimic god—
Thou traitor to thine own unhappy soul—
Thou base apostate to the lovely faith,
That thou hast preached with such false eloquence,
I am thine enemy! (To her sisters.)
Look on your work,
My gentle sisters. (They look in horror.)
Are ye not content?
Behold! I am a devil, like yourselves!