University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Scene, same as Act I. About half an hour before Sunset.
Vavir discovered sleeping at foot of Sun-dial. Melusine is kneeling. Amanthis is standing, leaning on dial. Vavir's head rests on pillows, and a cloak envelopes her.
Am.
How peacefully she sleeps! Oh, Melusine,
Can it be that this solemn death-like calm
Is but the silent herald of the end?

Mel.
As she has lived, so will our darling die—
Gently and peacefully. This tranquil sleep
May change to tranquil death, and give no sign.
So will she pass away!

Am.
But see—she wakes:
Would Heaven that we had fairer news for thee,
My poor Vavir!

Vav.
(awaking, and very feebly).
Thy face is very sad—
Are there no tidings of my sister?

Mel.
None!

Vav.
Dear Melusine, keep not the truth from me!
Some fearful evil has befallen her—
Tell me the truth. See, I am stronger now.

Mel.
Nay, calm thyself, Vavir—save only that
She has been sought, and has not yet been found,
We have no truth to tell.

Vav.
How speeds the day?

Am.
Thy dial points to eight.

Vav.
One little hour,
And then my Sun will set. Farewell, oh Sun!
How gloriously he dies!

Mel.
The sun will sink,
To rest throughout the night, as we shall rest,
But not to die.

Vav.
To die as we should die:
The night is given to the world that she
May mourn her widowhood. He knows no night,
But journeys calmly on his heavenly path
Wrapt in eternal light—in all, a type
Of the excelling life we try to live—
Of the all-glorious death we hope to die!

Mel.
See, Vavir, see upon the Beacon-hill,
Mousta, returning from his weary search—

Vav.
Is he alone?

Mel.
Alas, my darling, yes!
But still perchance he brings some news to us:
I'll go and meet him. Stay thou here, Vavir,
And I will bring thee tidings.

Vav.
Be it so—
Be quick, be quick, dear Melusine—and then (to both)

Go, seek Prince Florian—and say to him
That I would fain have speech with him alone,
If he will deign to grant me audience.
[Exeunt Melusine and Amanthis.
Another hour—and then, my Sun will set!
Oh, Hilda—oh, my sister—come to me!
Hilda enters, veiled.
The loving day is drawing to a close:
I dare not face the cold, black night alone!
I want thine arms around me, and thy face
Pressed once again on mine, before I die.
Oh, Hilda—oh, my sister—come to me!

Hil.
(unveiling, and kneeling).
Vavir! Fear nothing.
I am here, my child.

Vav.
(embracing her).
Hilda! My sister! Heaven is merciful!
And thou art safe and well?

Hil.
Yes, safe and well.

Vav.
Where hast thou been? Throughout the long, long day
My weeping sisters have been seeking thee.

Hil.
No matter now, Vavir. When thou art strong
I'll tell thee all.

Vav.
But I have news for thee,
Rare news, dear sister! Dry those gentle eyes;
The mighty sorrow that hath bowed thy heart
Is at an end! Thy prince—thy Florian,
Whom thou hast loved so tenderly—he lives!
Hilda, my sister, he is seeking thee!
Here, on this island, he is seeking thee!
Hilda, he loves thee; for he told me so!

Hil.
I know he loves me.

Vav.
Thou hast seen him then?

Hil.
I know he loves me; ay, even more,
Vavir, I know the secret of thy heart—
Poor broken heart!

Vav.
Oh! sister, pardon me.
I did not seek his love—nor knew I then
That he had loved thee—Sister, pardon me,
For I have suffered very bitterly!

Hil.
Vavir, I have a prayer to make to thee.
Vavir, thou lovest him: thy little life,
More precious to us all than all the world,
Lies in his hands—he is thy life to thee,
And pitying Heaven hath led him to our shores
To save thee for us. Take no thought for me,
For I have wrestled with this love of mine
And vanquished it—it lies beneath my feet! (With assumed gaiety.)

Remember, thou and I have but one heart,
And so that it is happy—what care we
Whose bosom it may beat in—thine or mine?
(Nay, but thou shalt not speak!) I'll keep away.
His eyes shall never rest on me again;
He will forget me, then, and wondrous soon!
Men's hearts are in their eyes—this love of theirs
Must have its daily food or it will die:
I'll keep away—so take him to thine heart,
And tell him—tell him—that I spake in jest,
That I had plucked his image from my heart
And cast it from me twelve long months ago.
Say that my heart is cold and dead to him.
Say that—say that—

(Hilda breaks down, and sobs in Vavir's lap.)
Vav.
Oh, sister, weep no more!
Thy prince hath chosen, and hath chosen well.
Of what account is such a life as mine?
Why, it is ebbing fast! Grieve not for me.
And yet I fain would live a little while,
To see thy face once more alight with joy,
As in the old, old days!

Hil.
So shalt thou live
To see my joy at thine own happiness.
Vavir, he will be sorry for a while.
Be kind to him—he will forget me then.
Remember, all my love for him is dead.
Kiss me, my child. Kiss me again. Farewell!

[Hilda pauses, looking at Vavir for a moment, then covers her face with the veil, and exit.
Vav.
Oh, loving heart—sweet, gentle sister-heart—
To bid me blight the outset of thy life
That I may count the time that's left to me
By days instead of hours! Come back to me—
I have no time to love—the end is near!

Enter Melusine, followed by Florian.
Flor.
Obedient to thy summons I am here.
Yet I am very loth to look upon
The misery my heedlessness hath caused.

Vav.
(leaning on Melusine, with an effort to appear cheerful).
Sir Florian, my pain is at an end.
The blow was heavy: for I am not strong,
And jests are new to me. Forgive me, sir.
My brain is filled with foolish fantasties
That carry me beyond my reasoning self.
I pray your pardon. Think no more of me,
Save as the subject of a merry tale—
How a mad maiden loved a sun-dial,
And very dearly, too! I have some news
To give you comfort. Hilda has been here.
She is alive and well.

Flor.
Then Heaven be thanked!

Vav.
But stay—you met her as you came?

Mel.
No, no,
We saw no sign of her.

Vav.
It's very strange.
She left me but a minute since, and took
The path by which you came. Go, seek her, sir;
Be very sure she waits you close at hand.
Come, Melusine. Farewell, Sir Florian;
Deal gently with me when you tell the tale!

[Exit Vavir, supported by Melusine. She shows by her change of expression that the effort to appear cheerful has caused her great suffering.
Flor.
She took that path—and yet I saw her not!
There's but one clue to this strange mystery:
She has the Talisman! By what strange means
It found its way into her spotless hands
I've yet to learn!

Mousta has entered during this speech.
Mous.
Let me assist you, sir,
I stole it from your pillow as you slept,
And used it for my ends. I took your place
Beside the fountain, and I woo'd her there.
And there she pledged herself to be my wife—
And, as a token, gave this ring to me! (Showing ring.)


Flor.
Why, miserable ape, hast thou then lost
The mere life-seeking instinct that inspires
The very meanest of thy fellow-beasts,
That thou hast come to say these things to me?

Mous.
I have! I say these things to you, because
I want to die! I tried to kill myself—
But I'm no hero, and my courage failed.
(Furiously).
She's gone from you for ever—and I come
To mock the bitter blighting of your life—
To chuckle at the aching misery
That eats your heart away! I come to spit
My hate upon you—If my toad's mouth held
The venom of a toad, I would spit that!
Come—have I said enough? Then draw thy sword
And make an end of me—I am prepared!

Flor.
(drawing sword).
I needed no assurance, yea or nay,
That some foul planning of thy leper-heart
Had worked this devilry! Thou lovest her?
Thou lovest her? Is there no blasphemy
That devils shrink from? Hast thou seen thyself? (Seizing Mousta and holding his head over the pool.)

Look in the fountain—bend thy cursed head!
Look at it—dog-face! (Mousta struggles.)
Shrink not back appalled—
It will not harm thee, coward—look at it!
What do we do with such a thing as that
When it dares claim a common right with Man?
We crush it underfoot—we stamp it down,
Lest other reptiles take their cue from it,
And say, “If he is human, so are we!” (Flinging him on ground.)


Mous.
(crouching on ground).
Spare me your tongue! I well know what I am,
And what I've done. My life is forfeited.
Strike at the heart! Be quick—I am prepared!

Flor.
Hast thou no prayer to utter?

Mous.
No, not I.
Curse you, be quick, I say! Yet stay—one word.
Before you pass your sword between my ribs,
Look at yourself, sir knight, then look at me!
You, comely, straight-limbed, fair of face and form—
(I say not this to court your favour, sir—
The Devil take your favour!)—I, a dwarf,
Crooked, humpbacked, and one-eyed—so foul a thing
That I am fain to quote my love for women
To prove that I have kinship with mankind.
Well, we are deadly rivals, you and I.
Do we start fair, d'ye think? Are you and I
So nicely matched in all that wins a woman
That I should hold myself in honour bound
By laws of courtesy? But one word more,
And I have done. Had I those shapely limbs,
That fair, smooth face, those two great, god-like eyes
(May lightning blast them, as it blasted mine!),
Believe me, sir, I'd use no Talismans!
Now kill me—I'm prepared. I only ask
One boon of you—strike surely, and be quick! (Pauses for a moment—then sheathes his sword.)


Flor.
Go, take thy life, I'll none of it! With one
Whom Heaven hath so defaced, let Heaven deal.
I will not sit in judgment on thy sin!
My wrath has faded—when I look upon
The seal that Heaven hath set upon thy brow,
Why, I could find it in my heart to ask
Thy pardon for the fury of my words!
Go, take thy life, make fairer use of it.

Mous.
(much moved).
I thank you, sir—not for my blighted life,
But for the pitying words in which you grant it. (With emotion.)

You've moved me very deeply. (Places the ring that Hilda gave him on Florian's finger—then kisses his hand.)
Curse the tears.
I am not used to weep, my lord,—but then
I am not used to gentleness from men.
[Exit Mousta.

Flor.
Unhappy creature, go thy ways in peace.
Thou hast atoned. Oh, Hilda, come to me!
If thou art here—if thou canst hear my words,
Then by the love that thou hast borne to me,
By all the tears that thou hast shed for me,
By all the hope thou hast held out to me,
I do implore thee to reveal thyself!
Enter Hilda, veiled.
Fear nothing, for I have the holy ring
On which thine oath was given. By cunning fraud
That oath was wrung from thee. Fear nothing now.

Hil.
(unveiling).
Sir Florian, I am here!

Flor.
(passionately).
Oh, Hilda, mine
My only love! Safe in my arms at last!
Why didst thou hide thyself away from me?

Hil.
(hurriedly).
I hid myself to save my sister's life;
To save her life I now reveal myself.

Flor.
How fares Vavir?

Hil.
Alas! her little life is ebbing fast
From heart-wounds of thy making! Florian,
I have no time to lose on empty forms—
I have no words to waste on idle speech—
My poor sick sister loves thee! Much misled
By thy light words, she placed full faith in thee:
And she is dying for her faith. Oh, sir,
There is but one physician in the world
Who, under Heaven, can save my darling's life.
Go to her now. If thou hast loved me, sir,
Be merciful, and save this life for me!

Flor.
Hilda, be just. How can I do this thing?
Can I command my heart, or deal with it
As I can deal with life or limb? By Heaven,
I would lay down my life to save Vavir,
But not my love!

Hil.
I do not ask thy life!
I have a life to yield, if such a price
Could save my sister. Oh, forgive me, sir;
My weight of grief hath maddened me; and yet
I ask for no one-sided sacrifice.
What is thy loss to mine? For three long years
This love of thee tinged my devoted life
With such blank woe—such utter misery—
That I was fain—hope being dead to me—
To sit apart, and wait the far-off end.
Then, when the end seemed yet too far away,
The bright, blue Heaven shone through the lowering clouds,
For he whom I had mourned as dead, came back,
To claim my love and crown it with his own!
At last, at last, I hold thee by the hand! (Taking Florian by both hands.)

At last I have thy love, oh, love of mine!
Thou art my very own—at last—at last!
Well, then, Sir Florian, I yield thee up! (Releasing him.)

To save her life I tear this new-born joy
Out of my very heart: for her I crush
My only hope on earth! If I can yield
The love of three long years to save her life,
Canst thou not yield thy love of yesterday?

Flor.
The task is very bitter. Yesternight
I learnt that thou whom I so blindly love
Had blindly loved me years ago—to-day
Thou bidd'st me take this love of mine elsewhere!

Hil.
Art thou so sure that I have loved thee long?
I loved one Florian—a stainless knight,
Brave as the very Truth—and, being brave,
Tender and merciful as brave men are;
Whose champion heart was sworn in chivalry
To save all women, sorrowing and oppressed;
Nor did he hold that woman to be banned
Whose sorrow came of her great love for him!
Tell me—art thou the Florian that I loved?

Flor.
If not that stainless Florian—yet one
Who would be such as he. (Taking her by both hands.)
I have thy love—
I who have lived a loveless life till now.
Well, then, I yield thee up! (Releasing her.)
If words of mine
Can save thy sister, I will speak those words!

Hil.
I knew it! Florian, I was sure of thee!
God bless thee, Florian; thou hast saved her life! (Kissing his forehead.)

(Passionately.)
Oh, how I love thee! (With hurried emphasis.)
Go to her at once—
Go to her quickly, ere it be too late!

Flor.
Thy sister comes this way. (Aside.)
Alas! Vavir,
There is more Heaven than Earth in that pale face!

Enter Vavir, very pale and weak, supported by Melusine and Amanthis. Florian receives her in his arms and they lay her gently on the ground. Hilda rushes to her, as they place her on the ground, near the sun-dial. Florian kneels by her, and takes her hand.
Hil.
Vavir, my love—my gentle sister. See,
He loves thee—Florian loves thee! He is here
To tell thee this—to call thee back to life.
Come at his call! The earth is bright for thee.
See how he loves thee. Oh, Vavir, come back!

Vav.
(very faintly).
It is too late—too late! I feel the hand
Of Death upon my heart. So let it be.
My day is spent—my tale is nearly told!

Hil.
Vavir—Vavir!
Have pity on us! Gentle little soul,
Fly not to thine appointed Heaven—not yet—
Not yet—not yet! Eternity is thine;
Spare but a few brief years to us on Earth,
And still Eternity remains to thee!
He loves thee—Florian loves thee well! Oh, Death,
Are there no hoary men and aged women
Weeping for thee to come and comfort them?
Oh, Death—oh, Death—leave me this little flower!
Take thou the fruit, but pass the blossom by!

Vav.
(very feebly).
Weep not: the bitterness of death is past.
Kiss me, my sister. Florian, think of me—
I loved thee very much! Be good to her.
Dear sister, place my hand upon my dial.
Weep not for me; I have no pain indeed.
Kiss me again; my sun has set. Good night!
Good night!

[Vavir dies; Hilda falling senseless on her body.
Curtain.