 | Gemma of The Isles |  |
14
ACT II.
Scene I.
—Naxos. A State Apartment of the Ducal Palace. Gemma reclining on the throne in a trance. Zilia and Lorenzo standing beside her. Archbishop of Naxos, Lioni, and other Naxiote Nobles. Naxiotes singing in the street below.Song.
[Naxiotes]
Oh, long-lost beauty, risen
On these Ægean isles!
Like spring from winter's prison,
In all her youth of smiles!
On these Ægean isles!
Like spring from winter's prison,
In all her youth of smiles!
Like some rare bud safe storëd
In a cold vase, by night,
To bloom on a bride's forehead,
In a full noon of light—
In a cold vase, by night,
To bloom on a bride's forehead,
In a full noon of light—
Like a lost ring, whose giver
Endeared it o'er all rings,
Which back the breathless diver
To beauty's footstool brings—
Endeared it o'er all rings,
Which back the breathless diver
To beauty's footstool brings—
Like gold long buried under
A cedar-shadowed ground,
Which, starting back in wonder,
The miser's heir has found—
A cedar-shadowed ground,
Which, starting back in wonder,
The miser's heir has found—
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Or like some relic holy
Saved out of pagan lands,
Through shouting streets borne slowly
To the holy father's hands—
Saved out of pagan lands,
Through shouting streets borne slowly
To the holy father's hands—
From gray rocks and pale ocean,
From white and heartless snows,
From frozen joy and motion,
Comes back to us our rose!
From white and heartless snows,
From frozen joy and motion,
Comes back to us our rose!
Zil.
Now, lords of Naxos, look upon this sleeper,
New rescued by my son from wintry exile
Beside her enemy's hearth! Look on her, all,
And own her for the orphan of your Duke
And lady of these isles!
Nax.
(singing)
Happy, happy rover!
Happy, happy lover!
Studying love upon a sleeping face,
All those weeks and weeks
Whilst she never speaks,
Keeps her place with soft submissive grace.
Zil.
First, reverend prelate,
Will you draw near?
Archb.
Mine eyes are dim with age,
Oh lady! but a light that shines on them,
As from a dear and royal presence, tells me,
This costly rose of girlhood is the same
Small bud of beauty that was once of yore
Placed in my hands, with music and acclaim,
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Sweet is this consolation for that day
When all the city brought in mourning pomp
The slaughtered heroes of her house, to lie
Beside their fathers, and I blessed the dead,
Whilst scarce the requiem drowned the people's sobs.
Nax.
(singing)
When the bluer skies
Warm those close-veiled eyes,
Lo, she blushes back the blushing south!
He discerns it well,
Though he scarce can tell
Which was first to redden, cheek or mouth.
Warm those close-veiled eyes,
Lo, she blushes back the blushing south!
He discerns it well,
Though he scarce can tell
Which was first to redden, cheek or mouth.
Dreams begin to stir
A faint life in her,
Shining through her trance with tremulous glory,
And the half-freed prisoner
Lies like a pleased list'ner
To the murmur of a long love-story.
A faint life in her,
Shining through her trance with tremulous glory,
And the half-freed prisoner
Lies like a pleased list'ner
To the murmur of a long love-story.
Zil.
And you, oh, veteran champion of your lord!
Who won his knightly spurs beneath your eyes,
And from your hand had knightly consecration—
Is this the child for whom on a past day
You stood an honoured sponsor at his side?
Lio.
Princess, my heart with an unbounded joy
Adoring this girl-miracle of beauty,
Beholds in her the infant whose small hand
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And her sweet mother wept, and both for joy.
Me, too, this sight consoles for a dark hour
When wounded I awoke as from the dead,
Maddened with rage and grief to find my prince
And his brave sons changed to heroic dust,
Our darling lost, our throne without an heir.
Nax.
(singing)
Blank to her hath been
All the shifting scene—
Past the rock-bound channel's stormy gray.
Past the one red spark
Straining through the dark,
From the eyes of England toward Biscay.
All the shifting scene—
Past the rock-bound channel's stormy gray.
Past the one red spark
Straining through the dark,
From the eyes of England toward Biscay.
Through the narrow door,
Gliding in secure,
Down the southern gallery sublime,
Where, in sky-framed row,
God hung long ago
Master-pictures on the walls of time.
Gliding in secure,
Down the southern gallery sublime,
Where, in sky-framed row,
God hung long ago
Master-pictures on the walls of time.
Zil.
Now all of you draw near and look upon her,
Ere we awake her to the wild surprise
In wait for her. Is she not one indeed
Worth the allegiance of your heart's best blood?
All.
She is! she is! the wonder of the world!
And proudly thus we bend the knee to her!
Nax.
(singing)
Gay Granada bright
With half Afric's light;
Provence blooming under porphyry walls;
Genoa smiling down
'Neath her marble crown,
On th' adoring sea where her white image falls;
With half Afric's light;
Provence blooming under porphyry walls;
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'Neath her marble crown,
On th' adoring sea where her white image falls;
Dark as demon's woe,
Ætna raising slow
A grim head from his gay green disguise;
Naples, all the day,
Dreaming life away,
Spell-bound by Vesuvius' burning eyes;
Ætna raising slow
A grim head from his gay green disguise;
Naples, all the day,
Dreaming life away,
Spell-bound by Vesuvius' burning eyes;
Venice all alone
On her floating throne,
Like a marble lily of the Nile,
From her Adrian palace
Watching her gay galleys
Fly to the world's end, like lovers for a smile.
On her floating throne,
Like a marble lily of the Nile,
From her Adrian palace
Watching her gay galleys
Fly to the world's end, like lovers for a smile.
Zil.
Here's yet another witness to her birth!
Ah, old Eudora! what prophetic instinct
Has guided to this spot thy tottering steps?
Nax.
(singing)
Swerving not for those,
On the rover goes,
Till a purple sky-aspiring line
Sharply cuts the air,
And 't is Greece stands there,
Greece, aerial, spirit-like, divine!
Eud.
Who's this, who's this, that with those drooping eyes,
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Upon the knightly throne of my dear lord?
Why do you bend the knee before a corpse?
Zil.
Look closer, old Eudora! 'Tis no corpse,
But a fair girl asleep.
Eud.
Then wake her not,
For she will wake to sorrow.
Zil.
You are wrong,
She will awake to be your sovereign.
She is your master's daughter.
Eud.
Let me see her!
Alas! poor child, this is no world for thee!
Thou art too beautiful. Sleep on, sleep on,
And never wake again!
Zil.
Lead her away.
Nax.
(singing)
Sweeping lightly round,
In behold him bound
On the crowd of happy Cyclades,
Ready where they stand,
Circling hand in hand,
For their wild Romaika on the seas.
Zil.
Now, noble lords, I thank you for your coming,
And pray that you will leave us, while my son
Removes the spell that holds your princess chained.
[All go out, except Zilia, Lorenzo, and Gemma.
My silent son, now will you lift the wreath
From this enchanted brow? Why do you pause?
Lor.
Once done, 't is done for ever.
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(singing)
Dancers of the sea,
Quit your game—'t is she,
Come to wear her diadem of isles!
[Lorenzo lifts the wreath from Gemma's forehead.
Crowd around with song,
Whilst she glides along!
Watch her walking! Lo! she wakes and smiles!
Song.
Sweet wand'rer! thy palace is lighted for thee,
The white-terraced mountain-side bursts into stars!
Street after street, to the boats on the sea,
Rings with the revel of countless guitars!
The white-terraced mountain-side bursts into stars!
Street after street, to the boats on the sea,
Rings with the revel of countless guitars!
From marble-carved window to window, blaze out
Beautiful faces scarce seen there before—
The heart of the islands bursts into a shout
Like th' Ægean's own organ-voiced roar.
Beautiful faces scarce seen there before—
The heart of the islands bursts into a shout
Like th' Ægean's own organ-voiced roar.
Hail, 'tis thy heritage! Thine is the town
Caught in the net of its vines like a prize,
A wide leafy cage where sweet gardens shut down,
Each its own summer of shade, from the skies.
Caught in the net of its vines like a prize,
A wide leafy cage where sweet gardens shut down,
Each its own summer of shade, from the skies.
There, breaking out from the green trelliced prison,
The plantain spreads out its torn streamers in showers,
The cypress stands stern as a spectre just risen,
Rose-laurel mounds blush over with flowers.
The plantain spreads out its torn streamers in showers,
The cypress stands stern as a spectre just risen,
Rose-laurel mounds blush over with flowers.
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Up to the promontories carry thine eye,
Gleaming with orange-tree foliage, around
Whose sculptural curves the sea makes a sky,
Each with its bride-wreath still crowned and recrowned—
Gleaming with orange-tree foliage, around
Whose sculptural curves the sea makes a sky,
Each with its bride-wreath still crowned and recrowned—
Or wilt thou descend to the gay market square,
Blooming and dewy with flowers and fruit,
Ere noon shall have mounted her blue sultry stair,
And watched till the brightness is empty and mute—
Blooming and dewy with flowers and fruit,
Ere noon shall have mounted her blue sultry stair,
And watched till the brightness is empty and mute—
Or balconied lines of pebble-paved street,
And white narrow lanes where the dark shadows fall,
And perfumed surprises steal into the heat,
Out from an ambush of windowless wall
And white narrow lanes where the dark shadows fall,
And perfumed surprises steal into the heat,
Out from an ambush of windowless wall
With inlets mysterious—the half-open door,
Or high-arching portal whose grating discloses
Cool, fragrant glimpses of walks bowered o'er
With thickets of heliotropes, jasmines, and roses.
Or high-arching portal whose grating discloses
Cool, fragrant glimpses of walks bowered o'er
With thickets of heliotropes, jasmines, and roses.
Now to the mountains! Past olive and vine,
Past all the chestnut-woods—higher up still
To where the free thickets of evergreens shine,
And a black pall of cedars from hill spreads to hill.
Past all the chestnut-woods—higher up still
To where the free thickets of evergreens shine,
And a black pall of cedars from hill spreads to hill.
And oh, the wild scent of the soil, gather'd up
By myrtle and cistus, by heath, balm, and thyme,
And breathed through an air fresh and joyous as hope,
Clear, pure, and sweet, as the mass-bell's great chime!
By myrtle and cistus, by heath, balm, and thyme,
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Clear, pure, and sweet, as the mass-bell's great chime!
Now—carved by the moon, in a marble as white
As shines in the quarries of Paros hard by,
Not like the ghost which, veiled in thin light,
Walks, as in sleep, 'neath a cold northern sky,
As shines in the quarries of Paros hard by,
Not like the ghost which, veiled in thin light,
Walks, as in sleep, 'neath a cold northern sky,
But day's perfect statue, the world of the night
Stands in its pride, like a queen doomed to die.
And all is thine own! Day or night, dark or bright,
The isles of th' Ægean are thine, far and nigh!
Stands in its pride, like a queen doomed to die.
And all is thine own! Day or night, dark or bright,
The isles of th' Ægean are thine, far and nigh!
| Gemma of The Isles | |