Lies — say but that he lies!
DJABAL.
Thou, Anael?
LOYS.
Nay, Djabal, nay, one chance for me — the last!
Thou hast had every other; thou hast spoken
Days, nights, what falsehood listed thee — let me
Speak first now; I will speak now!
NUNCIO.
Loys, pause!
Thou art the Duke’s son, Bretagne’s choicest stock,
Loys of Dreux, God’s sepulchre’s first sword:
This wilt thou spit on, this degrade, this trample
To earth?
LOYS [to ANAEL].
Who had foreseen that one day Loys
Would stake these gifts against some other good
In the whole world? I give them thee! I would
My strong will might bestow real shape on them,
That I might see, with my own eyes, thy foot
Tread on their very neck! ‘T is not by gifts
I put aside this Djabal: we will stand —
We do stand, see, two men! Djabal, stand forth!
Who’s worth her, I or thou? I — who for Anael
Uprightly, purely kept my way, the long
True way — left thee each by-path, boldly lived
Without the lies and blood, — or thou, or thou?
Me! love me, Anael! Leave the blood and him!
[To DJABAL.] Now speak — now, quick on this that I have said, —
Thou with the blood, speak if thou art a man!
DJABAL [to ANAEL].
And was it thou betrayedst me? ‘Tis well!
I have deserved this of thee, and submit.
Nor ‘tis much evil thou inflictest: life
Ends here. The cedars shall not wave for us:
For there was crime, and must be punishment.
See fate! By thee I was seduced, by thee
I perish: yet do I — can I repent?
I with my Arab instinct, thwarted ever
By my Frank policy, — and with, in turn,
My Frank brain, thwarted by my Arab heart —
While these remained in equipoise, I lived
— Nothing; had either been predominant,
As a Frank schemer or an Arab mystic,
I had been something; — now, each has destroyed
The other — and behold, from out their crash,
A third and better nature rises up —
My mere man’s-nature! And I yield to it:
I love thee, I who did not love before!
ANAEL.
Djabal!
DJABAL.
It seemed love, but it was not love:
How could I love while thou adoredst me?
Now thou despisest, art above me so
Immeasurably! Thou, no other, doomest
My death now; this my steel shall execute
Thy judgment; I shall feel thy hand in it.
Oh luxury to worship, to submit,
Transcended, doomed to death by thee!
ANAEL.
My Djabal!
DJABAL.
Dost hesitate? I force thee then. Approach,
Druses! for I am out of reach of fate;
No further evil waits me. Speak the doom!
Hear, Druses, and hear, Nuncio, and hear, Loys!
ANAEL.
HAKEEM! [She falls dead.
[The Druses scream, grovelling before him.
DRUSES.
Ah Hakeem! — not on me thy wrath!
Biamrallah, pardon! never doubted I!
Ha, dog, how sayest thou?
[They surround and seize the NUNCIO and his Guards. LOYS flings himself upon the body of ANAEL, on which DJABAL continues to gaze as stupefied.
NUNCIO.
Caitiffs! Have ye eyes?
Whips, racks should teach you! What, his fools? his dupes?
Leave me! Unhand me!
KHALIL [approaching DJABAL timidly].
Save her for my sake!
She was already thine; she would have shared
To-day thine exaltation: think, this day
Her hair was plaited thus because of thee!
Yes, feel the soft bright hair — feel!
NUNCIO [struggling with those who have seized him].
What, because
His leman dies for him? You think it hard
To die? Oh, would you were at Rhodes, and choice
Of deaths should suit you!
KHALIL [bending over ANAEL’S body].
Just restore her life!
So little does it! there — the eyelids tremble!
‘T was not my breath that made them: and the lips
Move of themselves. I could restore her life!
Hakeem, we have forgotten — have presumed
On our free converse: we are better taught.
See, I kiss — how I kiss thy garment’s hem
For her! She kisses it — Oh, take her deed
In mine! Thou dost believe now, Anael? — See,
She smiles! Were her lips open o’er the teeth
Thus, when I spoke first? She believes in thee!
Go not without her to the cedars, lord!
Or leave us both — I cannot go alone!
I have obeyed thee, if I dare so speak:
Hath Hakeem thus forgot all Djabal knew?
Thou feelest then my tears fall hot and fast
Upon thy hand, and yet thou speakest not?
Ere the Venetian trumpet sound — ere thou
Exalt thyself, O Hakeem! save thou her!
NUNCIO.
And the accursed Republic will arrive
And find me in their toils — dead, very like,
Under their feet!
What way — not one way yet
To foil them? None? [Observing DJABAL’S face.
What ails the Khalif? Ah,
That ghastly face! A way to foil them yet!
[To the Druses.] Look to your Khalif, Druses! Is that face
God Hakeem’s? Where is triumph, where is . . . what
Said he of exaltation — hath he promised
So much to-day? Why then, exalt thyself!
Cast off that husk, thy form, set free thy soul
In splendor! Now, bear witness! here I stand —
I challenge him exalt himself, and I
Become, for that, a Druse like all of you!
THE DRUSES.
Exalt thyself! Exalt thyself, O Hakeem!
DJABAL [advances].
I can confess now all from first to last.
There is no longer shame for me. I am . . .
[Here the Venetian trumpet sounds: the Druses shout, DJABAL’S eye catches the expression of those about him, and, as the old dream comes back, he is again confident and inspired.
— Am I not Hakeem? And ye would have crawled
But yesterday within these impure courts
Where now ye stand erect! Not grand enough?
— What more could be conceded to such beasts
As all of you, so sunk and base as you,
Than a mere man? A man among such beasts
Was miracle enough: yet him you doubt,
Him you forsake, him fain would you destroy —
With the Venetians at your gate, the Nuncio
Thus — (see the baffled hypocrite!) and, best,
The Prefect there!
DRUSES.
No, Hakeem, ever thine!
NUNCIO.
He lies — and twice he lies — and thrice he lies!
Exalt thyself, Mahound! Exalt thyself!
DJABAL.
Druses! we shall henceforth be far away —
Out of mere mortal ken — above the cedars —
But we shall see ye go, hear ye return,
Repeopling the old solitudes, — through thee,
My Khalil! Thou art foil of me: I fill
Thee full — my hands thus fill thee! Yestereve,
— Nay, b
ut this morn, I deemed thee ignorant
Of all to do, requiring word of mine
To teach it: now, thou hast all gifts in one,
With truth and purity go other gifts,
All gifts come clustering to that. Go, lead
My people home whate’er betide!
[Turning to the Druses.] Ye take
This Khalil for my delegate? To him
Bow as to me? He leads to Lebanon —
Ye follow?
DRUSES.
We follow! Now exalt thyself!
DJABAL [raises LOYS].
Then to thee, Loys! How I wronged thee, Loys!
Yet, wronged, no less thou shalt have full revenge,
Fit for thy noble self, revenge — and thus.
Thou, loaded with such wrongs, the princely soul,
The first sword of Christ’s sepulchre — thou shalt
Guard Khalil and my Druses home again!
Justice, no less, God’s justice and no more,
For those I leave! To seeking this, devote
Some few days out of thy Knight’s brilliant life:
And, this obtained them, leave their Lebanon,
My Druses’ blessing in thine ears (they shall
Bless thee with blessing sure to have its way)
— One cedar-blossom in thy ducal cap,
One thought of Anael in thy heart, — perchance,
One thought of him who thus, to bid thee speed,
His last word to the living speaks! This done,
Resume thy course, and, first amidst the first
In Europe, take my heart along with thee!
Go boldly, go serenely, go augustly —
What shall withstand thee then?
[He bends over ANAEL.] And last to thee!
Ah, did I dream I was to have, this day,
Exalted thee? A vain dream: hast thou not
Won greater exaltation? What remains
But press to thee, exalt myself to thee?
Thus I exalt myself, set free my soul!
[He stabs himself. As he falls, supported by KHALIL and LOYS, the Venetians enter; the ADMIRAL advances.
ADMIRAL.
God and St. Mark for Venice! Plant the Lion!
At the clash of the planted standard, the Druses shout and move tumultuously forward, LOYS draw ing his sword.
DJABAL [Leading them a few steps between KHALIL and LOYS].
On to the Mountain! At the Mountain, Druses!
[Dies.
BELLS AND POMEGRANATES NO. V: A BLOT IN THE ‘SCUTCHEON
CONTENTS
Dramatis Personæ
Act I
Scene I
Scene II
Scene III
Act II
Scene I
Act III
Scene I
Act III
Scene II
Dramatis Personæ
MILDRED TRESHAM.
GUENDOLEN TRESHAM.
THOROLD, Earl Tresham.
AUSTIN TRESHAM.
HENRY, Earl Mertoun.
GERARD, and other retainers of Lord Tresham.
TIME, 17 —
Act I
Scene I
The Interior of a lodge in Lord Tresham’s park. Many Retainers crowded at the window, supposed to command a view of the entrance to his Mansion.
GERARD, the Warrener, his back to a table on which are flagons, etc.
FIRST RETAINER.
Ay, do! push, friends, and then you’ll push down me!
— What for? Does any hear a runner’s foot
Or a steed’s trample or a coach-wheel’s cry?
Is the Earl come or his least poursuivant?
But there’s no breeding in a man of you
Save Gerard yonder: here’s a half-place yet,
Old Gerard!
GERARD.
Save your courtesies, my friend.
Here is my place.
SECOND RETAINER.
Now, Gerard, out with it!
What makes you sullen, this of all the days
I’ the year? To-day that young rich bountiful
Handsome Earl Mertoun, whom alone they match
With our Lord Tresham through the country-side,
Is coming here in utmost bravery
To ask our master’s sister’s hand?
GERARD.
What then?
SECOND RETAINER.
What then? Why, you, she speaks to, if she meets
Your worship, smiles on as you hold apart
The boughs to let her through her forest walks,
You, always favourite for your no-deserts,
You’ve heard, these three days, how Earl Mertoun sues
To lay his heart and house and broad lands too
At Lady Mildred’s feet: and while we squeeze
Ourselves into a mousehole lest we miss
One congee of the least page in his train,
You sit o’ one side — ”there’s the Earl,” say I —
“What then?” say you!
THIRD RETAINER.
I’ll wager he has let
Both swans he tamed for Lady Mildred swim
Over the falls and gain the river!
GERARD.
Ralph,
Is not to-morrow my inspecting-day
For you and for your hawks?
FOURTH RETAINER.
Let Gerard be!
He’s coarse-grained, like his carved black cross-bow stock.
Ha, look now, while we squabble with him, look!
Well done, now — is not this beginning, now,
To purpose?
FIRST RETAINER.
Our retainers look as fine —
That’s comfort. Lord, how Richard holds himself
With his white staff! Will not a knave behind
Prick him upright?
FOURTH RETAINER.
He’s only bowing, fool!
The Earl’s man bent us lower by this much.
FIRST RETAINER.
That’s comfort. Here’s a very cavalcade!
THIRD RETAINER.
I don’t see wherefore Richard, and his troop
Of silk and silver varlets there, should find
Their perfumed selves so indispensable
On high days, holidays! Would it so disgrace
Our family, if I, for instance, stood —
In my right hand a cast of Swedish hawks,
A leash of greyhounds in my left? —
GERARD.
— With Hugh
The logman for supporter, in his right
The bill-hook, in his left the brushwood-shears!
THIRD RETAINER.
Out on you, crab! What next, what next? The Earl!
FIRST RETAINER.
Oh Walter, groom, our horses, do they match
The Earl’s? Alas, that first pair of the six —
They paw the ground — Ah Walter! and that brute
Just on his haunches by the wheel!
SIXTH RETAINER.
Ay — ay!
You, Philip, are a special hand, I hear,
At soups and sauces: what’s a horse to you?
D’ye mark that beast they’ve slid into the midst
So cunningly? — then, Philip, mark this further;
No leg has he to stand on!
FIRST RETAINER.
No? that’s comfort.
SECOND RETAINER.
Peace, Cook! The Earl descends. Well, Gerard, see
The Earl at least! Come, there’s a proper man,
I hope! Why, Ralph, no falcon, Pole or Swede,
Has got a starrier eye.
THIRD RETAINER.
His eyes are blue:
But leave my hawks alone!
FOURTH RETAINER.
So young, and yet
So tall and shapely!
FIFTH RETAINER.
Here’s Lord Tresham’s self!
There now — there’s what a no
bleman should be!
He’s older, graver, loftier, he’s more like
A House’s head.
SECOND RETAINER.
But you’d not have a boy
— And what’s the Earl beside? — possess too soon
That stateliness?
FIRST RETAINER.
Our master takes his hand —
Richard and his white staff are on the move —
Back fall our people — (tsh! — there’s Timothy
Sure to get tangled in his ribbon-ties,
And Peter’s cursed rosette’s a-coming off!)
— At last I see our lord’s back and his friend’s;
And the whole beautiful bright company
Close round them — in they go!
[Jumping down from the window-bench, and making for the table and its jugs.]
Good health, long life,
Great joy to our Lord Tresham and his House!
SIXTH RETAINER.
My father drove his father first to court,
After his marriage-day — ay, did he!
SECOND RETAINER.
God bless
Lord Tresham, Lady Mildred, and the Earl!
Here, Gerard, reach your beaker!
GERARD.
Drink, my boys!
Don’t mind me — all’s not right about me — drink!
SECOND RETAINER [aside].
He’s vexed, now, that he let the show escape!
[To GERARD.]
Remember that the Earl returns this way.
GERARD.
That way?
SECOND RETAINER.
Just so.
GERARD.
Then my way’s here. [Goes.]
SECOND RETAINER.
Old Gerard
Will die soon — mind, I said it! He was used
To care about the pitifullest thing
That touched the House’s honour, not an eye
But his could see wherein: and on a cause
Of scarce a quarter this importance, Gerard
Fairly had fretted flesh and bone away
In cares that this was right, nor that was wrong,
Such point decorous, and such square by rule —
He knew such niceties, no herald more:
And now — you see his humour: die he will!
SECOND RETAINER.
God help him! Who’s for the great servants’ hall
To hear what’s going on inside! They’d follow
Lord Tresham into the saloon.
THIRD RETAINER.
I! —
FOURTH RETAINER.
I! —
Leave Frank alone for catching, at the door,
Some hint of how the parley goes inside!
Prosperity to the great House once more!
Here’s the last drop!
FIRST RETAINER.
Have at you! Boys, hurrah!
Scene II
A Saloon in the Mansion
Enter LORD TRESHAM, LORD MERTOUN, AUSTIN, and GUENDOLEN
Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series Page 275