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ACT II

Several Days Have Elapsed

Scene: The forecourt of the castle, beyond which is the garden and in the distance the mountains, under the deep tropical blue of morning. On the right the wall enclosing the castle grounds runs back and is lost in the foliage of cypress, palm, orange; it is pierced by an arched gate with lifted portcullis. On the left rises the dark front of the castle, its arabesqued doorway open. Across the rear a low arcaded screen of masonry, with an entrance to the right, separates the court from the garden. Before it a fountain, guarded by a statue of a Knight of St. John, falls into a porphyry basin. By the castle door, to the front, and elsewhere, are stone seats. Hassan is standing moodily by the screen, left, looking out the portcullis. He starts, hearing steps, and as the old leach Tremitus enters, motions him silently into the castle; then muttering "the old blood-letter," stands as before, while Civa, Maga, and Mauria are heard in the garden, and enter gaily bearing water-jars to the fountain. Civa sees his look and breaks into a twitting laughter. The other two join her.

Civa. Look at him! Maga! Mauria! behold!

Was ever sight so sweet upon the world?

Is he not very Joy?

Mauria (critically). Now, is he not?

With the price of vinegar upon his face.

[All laugh.

The price of vinegar! who'll buy! – Not I!

Not I! Not I! Not I!

Hassan. Wench.

Civa. Verily!

And not a man! he has discovered it!

You're not a man, Mauria! we were duped.

[Mauria slaps her playfully.

But see him now – a mummy of the Nile!

Who died of choler!

Mauria. Then, a care, he'll bite.

He's been in the grave a long while and he's hungry.

A barley-loaf, quick, Maga!

Civa. To appease him!

But s-sh! beware! there's something of import.

[They stop in mock awe before him.

What does he think of?

Mauria. Sphinxes and the spheres.

Civa. Or little ants and gnats that buzz about him.

Mauria. And how to make them smart for sauciness.

Civa. Or of Alessa!

Maga. No, no, Civa! come;

Enough of teasing.

Civa. Of Alessa!

Maga. No.

Your pitcher, come. He's troubled by the tale

Of lady Yolanda —

And waits for lord Amaury from the battle.

Civa. The – ! heigh! heigh-o! awaits! la, la! he does!

[Hassan starts at her tone.

For lord Amaury! does he so indeed?

Hassan. What do you know? Be silent.

Civa. Ho!

Hassan. Itch! would

You have lady Yolanda hear? She comes

Now, as she has this morning thrice, to ask.

[Yolanda appears on the threshold with Alessa.

Lord Renier … remember, if she learns!

[Civa flouts him, but goes to the fountain. The others follow, fill their jars, and, singing, return to the garden. Yolanda then crosses to Hassan, who waits evasive.

Yolanda. My want is still the same – words are unneeded.

Hassan. To know of lord Amaury?

Yolanda. Lord Amaury —

He has not yet returned?

Hassan (loathly). I have not seen him.

Yolanda. Nor heard?

Hassan. Nothing.

Yolanda. I cannot understand.

[Goes to the gate, troubled.

Hassan (low). Liar that I am to say it!

Yolanda. I cannot – cannot!

[Returns.

The Saracens we know were routed to

Their vessels – all the Allah-crying horde.

And lord Amaury – said the courier not? —

Rode in the battle as a seraph might

To the Holy Sepulchre's deliverance.

And yet no word from him.

Hassan. Perhaps – with reason.

[She looks at him quickly – he flushes.

With reason! … knowing, lady, what, here, now,

Is rumoured of a baron

And lady Yolanda!.. Pardon!

Yolanda (slowly). Of a baron

And lady Yolanda.

Hassan. Yes: it is the women

Who with their ears ever at secrecy

Rumour it. But, lady, it is a lie?

This Camarin, this prinker,

Whose purse is daily loose to us… I curse him!

His father… Well, my mother's ten years dead,

Stained, as you know —

And flower-lips breathe innocent above her.

But I'll avenge her doom.

Yolanda. On – whom?

Hassan (points castlewards). On him!

So you, who do not hush this tale of you,

Though it is truthless – hear:

I have a stab for Camarin of Paphos

Whenever he has lived – but say! – too long.

Yolanda (who has listened rigidly. After a pause).

Come here … look in my eyes, and – deeper… Shame!

[Quells him.

Pity alone we owe to sin not blame.

And they who love may stray, it seems, beyond

All justice of our judging. —

Is evil mad enchantment come upon

The portals of this castle?

Hassan. I would serve you.

Yolanda. With murder? no. But if you would indeed,

As oft you have —

Hassan. Lady, I will.

Yolanda. Then watch

The Venetian, and when Amaury comes

Find me at once. What sound was that?.. A bugle?

It is! it is! Alessa! (Overjoyed.) Do you hear?

His troop! Amaury's! O the silver chime!

Again I breathe, I breathe!

My heart as a bird of May!

Amaury!.. Come! we'll go to him! we'll go!

Before any within Lusignan – !

Alessa. Lady!

Yolanda. At once! it rings again! again! we'll go!

Alessa. And tell him?

Yolanda. Warn! Warn him a fever's here

That he must fend his ear from. 'Twill suffice.

And I again shall see him, hear him speak,

Hang on his battle-story blessedly!

And you, Hassan… But why do you stand stone?

You know something… He's dead!

Hassan. No, lady, no.

Yolanda. Not? ah! … then what? 'Twas not his trumpet?

Hassan (after a struggle). No.

And I will lie to you no longer;

Though for obedience it be or life;

And at lord Renier's command… It is

Not true that lord Amaury from the battle

Has not returned.

Yolanda. But he – you mean – is here?

[Stands motionless.

Hassan. He came … on yesterday … at dusk. Was led

Up to his chamber…

So much lord Renier who slipt him in

Revealed, that I might guile you.

Alessa (sharply). And you have?

Hassan. Yes.

Alessa. Though you boasted love to me?

Hassan. Now, woman!

Alessa. Lady, I would have wed him – wed this toad!

[Stingingly.

Who'd kill the Paphian, too!

Hassan. Yes!

Alessa. Worm! with dust?

Heeling away from him?

Yolanda. Be still, be still.

[Alessa turns to her.

These words can wait on what may yet be helped.

This may undo me! First of all I should

Have seen Amaury! Now – !

Hassan. The Venetian!

[They start. Vittia enters from the castle.

Lady, I will go in.

Alessa. And I; to wait.

[They go.

Yolanda (suddenly). But I to see Amaury.

Vittia. What? (stops).

Yolanda. To see,

Vittia Visani, who withholds Amaury —

Who came last night at dusk, as well you know.

[They face, opposed.

What have you told him?

Vittia. Ha!

Yolanda. Insolence, false

And feigning! But no matter; lies are brief.

I'll go myself to him.

Vittia. To be repelled?

Berengere enters.

Yolanda. If he could trust you – but he could not.

Vittia. Knowing

A Paphian ere this has fondled two?

Yolanda. You hear, mother? (To Vittia). Out of my way at once.

Berengere. Stay, stay! She has not told him! nothing!.. Yes,

I too have been aware and kept you blind.

For he was overworn, and still is, much.

But now his wound —

Yolanda. Wound! he is wounded?

Berengere. He sleeps.

Yolanda. And is in danger – jeopardy?

Berengere. In none;

If the leech Tremitus has any skill;

And that you know.

Yolanda. I thank … Madonna … thee!

[Vittia laughs and goes.

But you, mother, are come at last to say

Your promises, broken two days, are kept?

You've spoken? won lord Renier to wisdom?

Pled him to silence which alone can save us?

Dear mother – ?

Berengere. Do not call me so again.

[Turns away.

I have not – and I will not.

Yolanda. Oh!

Berengere. I cannot…

Yolanda. But can leave me so laden here within

This gulf's dishonour? Never!.. So return

And pledge him but to wait!

For this Venetian has now, I bode,

Something of evil more,

When once Amaury hears all that has passed.

Return!

Berengere. I cannot.

Yolanda (stung). Then hear, hear me! I

Too am a woman, and the woman wants,

The beauty and ache and dream and glow and urge

Of an unreckoned love are mine as yours.

I will not lose Amaury; but will tell him

Myself the truth.

Berengere. Then – I'll not stay for death,

And wait for shame. But now with Camarin

Will go from here.

Yolanda. Mother!

Berengere. To some retreat

Away!

Yolanda. Where still pursuit would follow! even,

I fear, Amaury's? —

And overtake you though it were as far

As the sea foams, or past the sandy void

Of stricken Africa? It would be vain.

Vain, and I cannot have you. No, but listen —

[Breaks off seeing Renier, on the castle threshold. His look is on her, but he comes down addressing Berengere.

Renier. She troubles you too much.

Berengere. My lord?

Renier. Too much.

You cherish her and reap unchastity

For gratitude – unchastity against

Our very son who was betrothed to her.

Yet see her shameless.

Berengere (dully). No; I think you wrong her.

[Yolanda moves apart.

Renier. Nobly you pity! But it will not veil her.

Rather the convent and the crucifix,

Matin and Vesper in a round remote,

And senseless beads, for such. – But what more now

Is she demanding?

Berengere. Little.

Renier. Not the means

Still to deceive Amaury?

Berengere. Renier … no.

[Speaks loathly.

But I have a request that, if you grant,

Will lead peace back to us … and from us draw

This fang of fate.

Renier. Ah.

Berengere. Yes.

Renier (slowly). And we might be

As those that wedded love?

Berengere. Perhaps.

Renier. That – love!

[A pause.

Then it shall be, at once… But no, I first

Have a confession.

Berengere. You?

Renier. A pang! – For days

[Takes her hand.

Before I found Yolanda on the breast

Of Camarin of Paphos —

I suffered in the furnace of suspicion

The fume and suffocation of the thought

That you were the guilty one – you my own wife.

[She recoils to Yolanda, who comes up.

I did; but rue, rue it!..

… Yet – it is just

That you recoil even as now you do

From stain upon your wedded constancy…

And time that is e'er-pitiful must pass

Over it —

Before there is forgiveness. And perhaps

Then I shall win you as I never have. —

Now the request.

Berengere. That now … I cannot plead.

[Sees Yolanda harden. Is impelled.

And yet I must… It is that, till I bid,

Amaury may not know of this … not know

This trouble fallen from a night of evil —

Pitiless on us as a meteor's ash.

Renier. Not of it? he? not know?

Berengere. Trust to me.

Renier. How!

And to this wanton's perfidy to bind

Him witless to her – with a charm perhaps —

Or, past releasing, with a philtre? She

Whom now he holds pure as a spirit sped

From immortality, or the fair fields

Of the sun, to be his bride?

Yolanda. Sir, no!.. She means

Not I shall wed him! (Winningly.) Only that you spare

To separate us with this horror; that

You trust me to dispel his love, to pall

And chill his passion from me. For I crave

Only one thing – innocence in his sight.

Believe! – believe!

Renier. I will – that you are mad.

Yet madder I, if to this murk my brain

Were blind.

Yolanda. As it will be! in deadlier dark,

If you attend me not!

And may have destiny you cannot know.

But you will heed?

For somewhere in you there is tenderness.

Once when you chafed in fever and I bore

White orange blossoms dewy to your pillow

You touched my hand gently, as might a father.

[Caresses his.

Once on the tower when alone at dusk

I sang – I know not why – of lost delights,

Of vanished roses that are e'er recalling

May to the world, you came and suddenly

Lifted my brow up silent to your kiss.

Ah, you remember; you will hear me?

Renier. No!

Though you are cunning. – Thus you wove the mesh

About Amaury – till he could not move

Beyond you.

Yolanda. For his sake I ask it.

Renier. For

No sake but to o'ersway him with your eyes

In secret, thus, and with

Your hair that he believes an aureole

Brought with you out of Heaven.

Berengere. Again – wrong.

Renier. So deem you and, my Berengere, I grieve,

Desiring much your peace.

Berengere. It grieves you not.

Renier. Then not! and half I fear – you hear? – it should not.

There's midnight in this thing and mystery.

Does she not love – Camarin?

Yolanda (trembling). Say no more.

Be all – all as you will.

Renier. That brings you low:

But brings to me no light – only again

The stumbling in suspicion.

Yolanda. It should not.

Renier (with a sudden gleam).

To-morrow then, unless Amaury runs

Fitting revenge through Camarin of Paphos,

Your lover, you shall clasp him openly

Before all of Lusignan.

Yolanda. No; no, no!

The thought of it is soil!.. Rather … his death!

Renier. What, what?

Berengere. My lord, she knows not what she says.

The unaccustomed wind of these ill hours

Has torn tranquillity from her and reason.

Yolanda (realising). Yes, as she says – tranquillity and reason.

[Strains to smile.

These hours of ill!

Renier. I'll send her Camarin.

[Goes, looking steadfastly back.

Yolanda (turning, then, to Berengere).

His mood and mien – that tremor in his throat,

Unfaltering. I fear him.

Berengere. Life is fear.

No step was ever taken in the world

But from a brink of danger, or in flight

From happiness whose air is ever sin.

It sickens me.

Yolanda. Mother!

Berengere. Nothing; a pain

Here in my breast.

[Sits.

Yolanda. And it is all through him

Who as a guest came pledged into this house.

Came with the chivalry and manly show

Of reverence and grace, that he too well

Has learnt in cunning lands and used to lure.

[Camarin appears from garden.

Ah, and he seeks us now! unwhelmed of it!

Ready of step, impassive, cold! And see —

[Camarin bows forcedly.

A flawless courtesy! as of a king!

Can he not smile too on his handiwork?

Our days were merciful and he has made

Each moment's beat a blow upon the breast.

Honour was here and innocence lies now

A sacrifice that pain cannot consume. —

Camarin. Or death.

Yolanda. Then have you not, unshameable!

A help for it or healing? you who know

So well the world and its unwonted ways!

A man would have, a man.

Camarin. And I am barren.

My brain an arid waste under remorse.

Only one thing it yields – the love of her

My love has made unholy.

Yolanda. While to me

The shame is left, and silence – no defence,

When it is told Amaury, "See her you

Blest with betrothal and the boon of faith,

Chose as the planet-mate of your proud star!

While, in the battle,

You with the weal of Cyprus on your brow

Dared momently peril,

We found her"… Ah, the memory is fire! —

I will not bear it.

Camarin. Then how? what?.. You must.

Though for your suffering I am pitiful,

You must!

[Takes her wrist.

For to one thing, one only now I'm bent —

That Berengere be saved.

Berengere. To-day … no more.

Camarin. Suspicion and the peril-feet of shame

I must keep from her still.

Yolanda. Though driven o'er

My heart they trample the lone flower of hope.

[Shaking off his hand, then, unnaturally wrought up.

And even now perhaps Amaury hears

And turns away in horror!

Camarin. What? Come, come.

Enough is here without —

Yolanda (as before). I'll go to him!

Despite of them! in to his side and say

That I am innocent – as the first dawn