The Mortal Gods and Other Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Ard._ You've yet to hear ... you do not know, my lord....
_Ber._ Sweet, plead no more. Let me go on to Heaven If 't be G.o.d wills his gates shall ope to me.
_Vig._ You'll stop in h.e.l.l a thousand years or so!
_Ard._ Wait! I will tell----
_Vig._ You've said too much!
_Bion._ Speak, Ardia.
_Ard._ In Suli castle where I was betrothed To Bertrand, just one sun agone--but one-- He spent the night with me.
_Vig._ She lies!
_Ard._ Say now If Banissat, or any lord save Bertrand, Will make me wife.
_Bion._ Must I believe you?
_Ban._ No.
A woman's trick.
_Ard._ There's proof. Ask whom you will Of Oswald's train--the lords who saw me cast From Suli's door, too vile for word or touch.
Ask any trooper, jesting by the way, And hear my name made foul. The army rings With it. Ask any gossip of the tents----
_Ban._ O, stop her tongue! It thunders on me! All The air is storm! Peace, or I'll strike her down!
_Bion._ This seals your death, Lord Bertrand. Now my hand Is hot and willing.
[_Enter a messenger below. He gives a packet to Banissat_]
_Messenger._ Antioch sends this, O, prince!
_Bion._ [_To Bertrand_] I had your word above all oaths That you would guard our sister. When the priest Strips bare the shrine, not outraged G.o.d or man Shall show him mercy.
_Ard._ He is innocent!
'Twas Oswald's plot to cast me in the dust-- And there I lie where all the world may see-- But Bertrand's soul is guiltless----
_Vig._ Guiltless! Tus.h.!.+
Your puzzle's clear. [_To Biondel_] She dies with him.
_Ard._ I die If Bertrand dies. But, oh my brothers, we Are young--we love--will you not let us live?
_Bion._ [_To Vigard_] 'Tis best she dies.
_Ber._ You will not dare----
_Bion._ The prince Shall be her judge.
_Ban._ First let us speak aside, For Antioch fails us, and we've more to weigh Than the quick death of this too-guilty pair.
[_Banissat, Biondel, and Vigard go off above_]
_Ber._ I have brought death upon you.
_Ard._ Life, 'tis life Now beating in the dawn! What music! Hear it!
O, we shall live, my lord, and live together!
_Ber._ In Heaven, love.
_Ard._ True, for this planet too, Ay, even this earth, is set in Heaven as deep As any star. 'Tis we are heaven to eyes In other worlds, and would be to our own Could we believe. O, hope with me, my Bertrand!
No, no, not hope, whose other half is doubt, And to its dark and fearful double owes Its very radiance, too, too unlike Belief's trans.m.u.ting sun!
_Ber._ Ah, love, no man ere broke Undrained his cup, or brewed again those drops To his desire----
_Ard._ Nay, every man is new In destiny, his star his own, and foots Unmeasured paths.
_Ber._ On mortal feet.
_Ard._ Be 't so, Each birth is a high venture of the soul Feeling an untried way for deity's dream, And none may know where th' deep and twilight trail Shall flash with G.o.d-rift, and the dawn be his.
_Ber._ O, bravest, bow thy head----
_Ard._ Nay, nay, my lord!
Lock up your spirit, let mine rule this hour, Or be with me the flame of faith that leaps To deed in G.o.d. For we do help him, dear.
Our parcelled strength is whole and new in His, A power born that touches us again, Breeding our greater self that yet gives back His own increase, until the way is strewn Even with his miracles and ours. So works The unending drama out, where every act Begets an act yet greater than itself.
_Ber._ Let me but kiss thy hands.
_Ard._ You will not help?
You'll not believe? Is it so strange That you should live?
_Ber._ That hate should let me live.
_Ard._ Is it more strange that halo should grow love-still, Than that the wind should cease, as now it does, To strip the bloom from yonder bough, and lie Unfelt within its silent place? More strange That life should keep its flow in your warm veins Than that the sun now creeping on the peaks Should wander down and on and lay in gold The valleys of the world, moved by no hand We see or name, but know, but know!
[_Biondel, Vigard, and Banissat re-enter_]
_Ard._ He lives!
_Bion._ He lives. Speak the conditions, prince.
_Ban._ [_To Bertrand_] Your life Is spared that she whose name is lost May wear your own. You shall remain on Kidmir peak, And make her yours by every priestly rite With open, fair observance. Then Earl Oswald Must greet as daughter one he vilely mocked From his proud door, and far and wide acclaim her Princess of Suli. Will his love for you So bow his heart?
_Ber._ I may not speak for him.
_Ard._ He will consent.
_Ban._ And, further, he shall give To Biondel the governors.h.i.+p of Ilon.
