O mitred priest, whose blameless hand must slay!
Mother! Thy healing at what price I pay!
HIPPIAS.
Shrink not from telling me this mystery.
DAPHNE.
O sealed vow, O snare wherein I die!
HIPPIAS.
What is this vow? I wait in anguish sore.
DAPHNE.
Hippias! Live! Farewell. I am no more.
HIPPIAS.
Oh, peace! Call not on Hermes, god forsworn.
DAPHNE.
Jesus, O sacred ram, of brazen horn,
Who lead’st thy lambs where living waters flow.
Through what hard deserts must my footsteps go!
Eternal dolphin of the eternal sea
Behold my storm-tossed bark and pity me!
HIPPIAS.
What speakest thou of Christ, what is thy thought?
DAPHNE.
Thy bride is His, though Him I have not sought.
HIPPIAS.
’Tis Christ would snatch thee from my jealous hold?
DAPHNE.
His I become, He is the spouse foretold.
HIPPIAS.
But what thy fate if such a Lover claim?
DAPHNE.
Live like a little child, and die the same.
HIPPIAS.
O God of Galilee, unsought thy wrath!
Phantom unbidden risen on my path,
Whose threat’ning hand shows its ensanguined trace!
Hear me, dark Ruler of a sullied race:
Thy name I honoured, though unreconciled,
I marked not, Christ, because of this dear child,
What, of Thy story, age and wisdom said.
Heeded not reason nor the omens dread;
I thought thee good, a god withdrawn apart,
Of lofty mind, man’s welfare at Thy heart.
I know Thee now, fierce spirit un appeased,
Envious spectre, who troublest thus the feast,
Power malign, striking at human kind
Who groaning walk Thy path, to tears resigned;
Unlawful overlord of magic might,
O Prince of death, whose cold strength serves to blight
Warm love, and chill the virgin at man’s breast!
Thou art divine! Then hear my mind confessed,
And take Thy joy in what I have to say:
Here I await Thee, come, and seize Thy prey!
Take if Thou wilt, but in Thy hand bring Death,
Thou shalt not take her while I draw my breath.
DAPHNE.
Dear Hippias, peace! Most sinful is thine ire.
Blaspheme not! Dread its expiation dire.
Jesus of Nazareth thou hast belied,
That we might live, upon the cross He died.
He has not asked this sacrifice I make,
And she who gives me does so for my sake.
My mother sought my glory and my good
When she made vow to offer me to God.
Her honeyed hope proves wormwood of despair.
HIPPIAS.
Daphne, the gods are good, nor hear the prayer
Of one who would forbid her daughter bring
The man she loves her virgin offering.
Begetters of the world! You do not heed
The mother who denies her daughter seed,
Would see her childless, loveless, and forlorn,
By alien hearths, and pointed at in scorn,
A useless burden on the teeming earth.
This earth where all things love, and bring to birth;
Stretching her sapless arms denied embrace,
Wandering, aimless, like a shade in space.
And shall that maiden beyond others dowered,
With Aphrodite’s gifts divinely flowered,
One who already heard the amorous lure,
The words that fired to love her bosom pure,
Daughter of Hermas, glory of earth and crown,
Be left to wither sterile and alone?
They would not if they could, forbid our bliss!
Trust in the gods, O maid, and trust my kiss!
DAPHNE.
Alas! O trouble, madness, failing will!
Herbs of Iolchos, whose dark roots distil
The livid poison’s dread paralysis,
Would work my ruin less than such a kiss.
HIPPIAS.
It comes from me, thy spouse predestinate.
DAPHNE.
Oh, fear to touch me, I am consecrate.
I fear myself, I fear God’s part in me.
For the last time, farewell! I love but thee!
HIPPIAS.
What love immortal equals love like mine?
I suffer and my sorrow is as thine.
No god can suffer, or can die for thee,
Unhappy child! Such kiss thy death must be.
O soul of mine, there is no such caress
As that of mortals clinging in distress.
No joy ethereal worth my kiss impressed,
Thy beauty, yielding, conquered, on my breast,
Thy tears! —
DAPHNE.
O spirit, spread thy dove-like wings.
I fail! Oh, lend the strength Thy presence brings
HIPPIAS.
How sweet is love.
DAPHNE.
My love will not be stayed.
HIPPIAS.
It is Love’s wish: his law will be obeyed.
DAPHNE.
Dear Hippias, thou hast conquered. I avow
I love thee and am thine. Take me then, now.
Possess me. Let us flee, but hold me hid,
I follow thee and do what thou shalt bid.
Oh, that I rode through rushing air the plain,
Drank with closed eyes thy breath without restrain,
Would that I had a swift steed to my hand —
Oh, tarry not, but come. Leaving the land,
Flee to the gulf where thy bark rocks her spars.
I fear nor winds nor waves ‘neath other stars.
Our bridal song, O friend, towards other shores
The chant of sailors and the sounding oars.
Ploughing the starlit waves thy vessel fleet
Carries me couched in shadow at thy feet.
Thou my salvation, thou my hope and faith,
My soul and being thine envelopeth.
Come! But alas for me! What have I said?
My speech is shameful — and my madness sped.
HIPPIAS.
Maiden, thy love is virtuous and good,
I am thy promised; show thy friends like mood.
Yes, we will tempt the deep sea; and its wave,
Fair as love’s self, and fruitful to the brave,
Shall gently bear our blameless destinies
To sheltering roof, where incense-smoke shall rise
Daphne, thy father’s word shall stand in proof.
DAPHNE.
Master in whom I hope, beneath thy roof,
Father august, ageing in honoured ease,
We twain will seek thee and embrace thy knees...
No, we but dream, imprudent our belief
And hope deceived but aggravates man’s grief.
My mother cannot loose her daughter’s ties,
She will not ask for aught that Law denies.
HIPPIAS.
Thy mother is no heartless savage wild,
A woman’s milk has fed her when a child,
Only the cruel gods impassive see
Our human misery: but, mortal, we
Know pity, for our suffering makes us heed.
What mother hears, except her heart must bleed,
That child on whom her pains did life confer
A second time demanding Life of her?
A mother yields to tears; yet mortal she.
We will go to her, humbly bow the knee,
Our prayers, our raised hands, our tears shall speak,
; And pity at the last shall smooth her cheek.
SCENE X.
HIPPIAS, DAPHNE, KALLISTA.
KALLISTA enters, a lamp in her hand. DAPHNE hides her head on HIPPIAS’ breast.
KALLISTA.
What are these cries? Who, in this chaste abode,
Moveth when unclean spirits are abroad?
What suspirations shame, what kisses taint
This house and through the solid walls acquaint
The air with vapours of disease and death?
Man, wouldst thou violate, with drunken breath,
One of my household whom I guide aright
Through the day’s heat and shadows of the night
To the celestial city’s living walls?
Wouldst thou, then, shameless, force my female thralls?
But no — I plainly heard your spoken word,
Your voices mix in hideous accord.
God! That beneath these eaves the Demon lust
Should set his red imprint, and straightway must
A Christian woman, stung to appetite
At one bound, seek a stranger’s bed at night!
On thy knees, woman, whoever thou mayest be,
Thou whom an unclean spirit, inhabiting thee,
Hunts thus by night, maddened, on heat, a-gog;
Bitch, whose throat howls for every wandering dog,
The leathern thongs, the salutary whip
Shall dominate thy flesh, and hush thy lip!
HIPPIAS.
The majesty of years adorns thy brow,
O woman, but too swift to wrath art thou.
Beneath this roof my brows were ivy-crowned,
I leave unsoiled the welcome bed I found.
No slave has mounted sly and stealthy-stepped
Like a foul nightmare where the stranger slept.
Within my heart an honest purpose bred.
Calm thyself, woman; see thy child’s chaste head
Her whom I love, who loves me —
KALLISTA.
O amaze!
A poisonous vapour must becloud my gaze.
’Tis she, I see her! Thou, a Christian maid!
A Gentile, and his hand on thine is laid!
Abomination! Christ, where art Thou, then?
Where sleeps Thy sword, Thy virtue, far from men?
O Christ, but see him! See, O King, and smite!
Thy portion feels his touch, Thy fruit his bite.
DAPHNE.
I will not live without him. I die first.
KALLISTA. —
Man sacrilegious, vile, of God accurst,
I drive thee forth — go from this pious house.
Flee, nor breathe poison on her youthful brows.
Flee, in all shame, thy head within thy hands,
Seek in the shades where any path expands
Thy shelter fit, in any sink of night.
Bestir thee, or the rods shall speed thy flight.
HIPPIAS.
A furious demon agitates thy frame
And froths thy lips. I go, as erst I came,
O woman, bearing high an unbowed head.
But with thy guest thine honour thou hast sped.
Thy roof whence now the ill-omened bird shall cry
Sees the insulted guest depart, and with him fly
Innocence, Faith, and Peace, triad august.
And holy Piety, and Laws held just.
Mine is her soul which thou canst not constrain.
Zeus grant me triumph when I come again.
DAPHNE.
Hippias!
HIPPIAS.
O Daphne!
SCENE XI.
DAPHNE, KALLISTA.
KALLISTA.
I will wash each stone,
His scandalous feet have touched, and make atone.
I know, my child, that God upheld thy faith
Already trembling at his unclean breath.
Against the tempter fasting is thy shield,
And Jesus’ name the spear that thou must wield.
To rule the flesh so prompt to disobey
Let us prostrate ourselves and groan and pray.
Humbled in dust and ashes let us bend
Until the grace and blood of Christ descend.
My daughter, one more day, and then the Ark
Shall open and the bride of God embark,
Thy soul be sheltered, and thy robe made sure
From stain of sin in this dark age impure.
I see, I hear. The Son of Man is come;
And Adam’s seed is rising from the tomb
And knows Him. Lo, the hour! The Angel’s flail
Beats out the grain and chaff to meet the scale.
The heavenly trumpets rend the firmament.
Child, let us flee this world indifferent.
See, the Judge cometh in a reddening light!
DAPHNE.
Mine eyes already see the dark increase.
I sink upon the hearth to die in peace.
KALLISTA.
My prayer and torment shall avert the curse.
SCENE XII.
DAPHNE, later, the NURSE.
DAPHNE.
Kharito! Kharito! Come, mine ancient nurse,
List! Hippias of Thera thou dost know
Thy Daphne dies unless thou hear’st her woe.
Thou canst not wish, good nurse, to see me dead.
Chased from the house my Hippias is fled.
His love for me will make him slow of flight,
Regret will weight his sandalled footsteps light.
Excellent Kharito, nurse who cradled me,
Quicken thy heavy limbs, and hasten thee.
Follow his footprints on the sandy ground,
Run to the spring, and seek him, and when found,
Tell him to wait me when the stars once more
Throw the pine shadows on the forest floor
By the great tomb which iron gates enfold.
Thou tarriest: hasten, run: for time is gold.
NURSE.
My child! I go. Though truly it were best
If I abstained from such inglorious quest. —
Thou hast my love, and sometimes for our friends,
We must pursue and seek unlawful ends.
DAPHNE.
Run and return. By adverse fates misled,
My funeral couch shall be my marriage-bed.
PART III.
Night. A wide and shady road. At the side of this road a tomb half hidden among pines. One sees the interior of the monument, the funeral chamber. Niches hollowed in the walls holds urns with ashes. Round the interior runs a marble bench; in the middle is an altar.
SCENE I.
A WISE WOMAN.
No farther! Standing in a moonlit space
A tomb among dark pines, the appointed place.
The iron gate is mute, heavy and dark;
No voice as yet, no step, no light to mark.
The maid is not far off, and come she will,
For I am sought and summoned for my skill.
Many the tears my withered hands have felt,
Many the kiss my furrowed brow would melt.
For I am dear to lovers, see them prone
Pressing the knees of this so aged crone.
In town and village every servant tells
The children of my knowledge and my spells.
Aye, I know more than all, and slowly starve.
Within my bones I feel the hunger carve.
Rest to the needy is a fruitless boon,
I must bestir me ‘neath the friendly moon,
Tear from the tombs the roots whose virtue dread
Is nourished on the bodies of the dead.
SCENE II.
THE WISE WOMAN, the bishop THEOGNIS, followed by deacons and other faithful singing in
Chorus.
The Chorus of the Faithful.
Glory and praise in Thee, O Lord,
To those of loyal blood,
Witness Thy Name and Rood.
An age perverse has set them free,
We, groaning, pray and wait.
Grant us to wear, who yearn for Thee,
Thy purple robe of state.
THEOGNIS (to THE WISE WOMAN).
Thou, whom I meet upon this road we tread,
Com’st thou to pray beside the martyr’d dead
With us, O woman, where lamps of life shine clear?
THE WISE WOMAN.
Man, I reply without deceit or fear.
I am a woman most miserable and weak.
Beneath these pines and maples tall I seek
Dead wood, to warm my poor old bones, and dry.
THEOGNIS.
Woman an-hungered and a-thirst, draw nigh!
“Blest are the suffering,” Christ hath said. “The rich
For ay shall burn in sulphur and in pitch.”
The hand that gives thee alms, this gold hath crost
In name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
The Chorus of the Faithful.
Grant, Lord, the glory we desire
For which our life-blood flows —
To wear upon our white attire
The martyr’s blood-red rose.
The Bishop and the chorus move away.
SCENE III.
THE WISE WOMAN.
Hate makes us twain. Presents are nothing worth
I hate both easy men and grudging earth.
I hate whatever nourisheth a life within,
Both flesh and grass. I cleave to Death and Sin.
My nails have dug the rooted plant away.
Hurry thy steps, my pretty child a-stray,
A rich old man is urgent for a charm
To bring him back his youth and nerve his arm.
He calls, and I, beneath my robe I hang
Whisker of wolf and serpent’s poisonous fang...
Here is the child! I shall have gold again.
SCENE IV.
THE WISE WOMAN, DAPHNE, THE NURSE.
DAPHNE.
Nurse, take this key.
NURSE.
There is still time — refrain.
My child, my blossom, hearken what I say,
We two are following an evil way.
DAPHNE (to the woman).
Woman, I seek the aid you swore to lend.
WISE WOMAN.
The aged wife is prompt to serve a friend.
DAPHNE.
Take, give — and leave me.
THE WISE WOMAN
(gives the phial and receives a piece of gold).
Here is weight and shine!
O tender maid, thy locks are fair and fine!
If so be that some youth is all thy care
Bring me, my dear, from him a single hair
And you shall see him, spellbound by my charms,
Complete Works of Anatole France Page 405