Charles Di Tocca: A Tragedy - Rice Cale Young

Скачать книгу

you hear?"

      Hæmon: Well – well?

      Bardas: No more. When I had struck him down,

      He swore it was unswerving all and truth.

      Hasting to warn I found Helena ta'en

      And sought you here.

      Hæmon (grasping his brows): Ah!

      Bardas: Helena who is

      All purity!

      Hæmon: Ah sister, child! – Have I

      With strength been father and with tenderness

      A mother been to her unfolding years

      But to see now unchastest cruelty

      Pluck her white bloom to ease his idle sense

      One fragrant hour? – If it be so, no flowers

      Should blossom; only weeds whose withering

      Can hurt no heart!

      Bardas: These tears should seal fierce oaths

      Against him!

      Hæmon: And they shall! until God wrecks

      Him in the tempest raised of his outrage!

      Bardas: Then may I be the rock on which he breaks!

      But hear; who comes? (Revellers are heard approaching.)

      We must aside until

      This mirth is past. (They conceal themselves.)

Enter revellers dressed as bacchanals and bacchantes, dancing and singing

      Bacchus, hey! was a god, hei-yo!

      The vine! a fig for the rest!

      With locks green-crowned and lips red-warm —

      The vine! the vine's the best!

      He loved maids, O-o-ay! hei-yo!

      The vine! a maiden's breast!

      He pressed the grape, and kissed the maid! —

      The cuckoo builds no nest!

      (All go dancing, except Lydia and Phaon, who clasps and kisses her passionately)

      Lydia (breaking from him): Do you think kisses are so cheap? You must know mine fill my purse! A pretty gallant from Naples, with laces and silks and jewels gave me this ring last year for but one. And another lover from Venice gave me this (a bracelet) – but he looked so sad when he gave it. Ah, his eyes! I'd not have cared if he had given me naught.

      Phaon: Here, here, then! (Offers jewel.)

      Lydia (putting it aside): They say the ladies in Venice ride with their lovers through the streets all night in boats: and the very moon shines more passionately there. Is it true?

      Phaon: Yes, yes. But kiss me, Lydia! Take this jewel – my last. Be mine to-night, no other's! We'll prate of Venice another time.

      Lydia: Another time we'll prate of kisses. I'll not have the jewel.

      Phaon: Not have it! Now you're turning nun! a soft and virgin, silly nun! With a gray gown to hide these shoulders that – shall I whisper it?

      Lydia: Devil! they're not! A nice lover called them round and fair last night. And I've been sick! And – I – cruel! cruel! cruel! (Revellers are heard returning.) There, they're coming.

      Phaon: Never mind, my girl. But you mustn't scorn a man's blood when it's afire.

Re-enter Revellers singing

      Bacchus, hey! was a god, hei-yo! etc.

(After which all go, except Zoe and Basil.

      Zoe: O! O! O! but 'tis brave! Wine, Basil! Wine, my knight, my Bacchus! Ho! ho! my god! you wheeze like a cross-bow. Is it years, my wooer, years? – Ah! (She sighs.)

      Basil: Sighs – sighs! Now look for showers.

      Zoe: Basil – you were my first lover – except the duke Charles. Ah, did you see how that Helena looked when they gave her the duke's command? I was like that once. (Hæmon starts forward.)

      Basil: Fiends, nymphs and saints! it's come! tears in your eyes! Zoe, stop it. Would you have mine leak and drive me to a monastery for shelter!

      Zoe (sings sadly and absently):

      She lay by the river, dead,

      A broken reed in her hand

      A nymph whom an idle god had wed

      And led from her maidenland.

      Basil: O, had I been born a heathen!

      Zoe: He told me, Basil, I should live, a great lady, at his castle. And they should kiss my hand and courtesy to me. He meant but jest – I feared. – I feared! But – I loved him!

      Basil: Now, my damsel – !

      Zoe (sings):

      The god was the great god Jove,

      Two notes would the bent reed blow,

      The one was sorrow, the other love

      Enwove with a woman's woe.

      Basil: Songs and snakes! Give me instead a Dominican's funeral! I'd as lief crawl bare-kneed to Rome and mouth the Pope's heel. O blessed Turks with their remorseless harems! – Zoe!

      Zoe (sings):

      She lay by the river dead;

      And he at feasting forgot.

      The gods, shall they be disquieted

      By dread of a mortal's lot?

      (She wipes her eyes, trembles, looks at him and laughs hysterically.)

      Bacchus! my Bacchus! with wet eyes! Up, up, lad! there's many a cup for us yet!

      (They go, she leading and singing.

      He loved maids, O-o-ay! hei-yo!

      The vine! a maiden's breast! etc.

      (Hæmon and Bardas look at each other, then start after them terribly moved.)

Curtain

      ACT TWO

      Scene.—An audience hall in the castle of Charles di Tocca; the next afternoon. The dark stained walls have been festooned with vines and flowers. On the left is the ducal throne. On the right sunlight through high-set windows. In the rear heavily draped doors. Enter Charles, who looks around and smiles with subtle content, then summons a servant.

Enter servant

      Charles: The princess Fulvia.

      Servant: She comes, sir, now.

(Goes. Enter Fulvia

      Fulvia: My lord, flowers and vines upon these walls

      That seem always in dismal memory

      And mist of grief? What means it?

      Charles: That sprung up,

      A greedy multitude upon the fields,

      Citron and olive were left hungry, so

      I quelled them!

      Fulvia: Magic ever dwells in flowers

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, Скачать книгу