Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Thou art not quick enough. Who hopes to catch A moon-beam, must use twice as much dispatch.
PIERROT [_sitting down sulkily_].
I grow aweary, and my heart is sore.
Thou dost not love me; I will play no more.
[_He buries his face in his hands. The Lady stands over him._]
THE LADY.
What is this petulance?
PIERROT.
'Tis quick to tell-- Thou hast but mocked me.
THE LADY.
Nay! I love thee well!
PIERROT.
Repeat those words, for still within my breast A whisper warns me they are said in jest.
THE LADY.
I jested not: at daybreak I must go, Yet loving thee far better than thou know.
PIERROT.
Then, by this altar, and this sacred shrine, Take my sworn troth, and swear thee wholly mine!
The G.o.ds have wedded mortals long ere this.
THE LADY.
There was enough betrothal in my kiss.
What need of further oaths?
PIERROT.
That bound not thee!
THE LADY.
Peace! since I tell thee that it may not be.
But sit beside me whilst I soothe thy bale With some moon fancy or celestial tale.
PIERROT.
Tell me of thee, and that dimy, happy place Where lies thine home, with maidens of thy race!
THE LADY [_seating herself_].
Calm is it yonder, very calm; the air For mortals' breath is too refined and rare; Hard by a green lagoon our palace rears Its dome of agate through a myriad years.
A hundred chambers its bright walls enthrone, Each one carved strangely from a precious stone.
Within the fairest, clad in purity, Our mother dwelleth immemorially: Moon-calm, moon-pale, with moon stones on her gown, The floor she treads with little pearls is sown; She sits upon a throne of amethysts, And orders mortal fortunes as she lists; I, and my sisters, all around her stand, And, when she speaks, accomplish her demand.
PIERROT.
Methought grim Clotho and her sisters twain With shriveled fingers spun this web of bane!
THE LADY.
Theirs and my mother's realm is far apart; Hers is the l.u.s.trous kingdom of the heart, And dreamers all, and all who sing and love, Her power acknowledge, and her rule approve.
PIERROT.
Me, even me, she hath led into this grove.
THE LADY.
Yea, thou art one of hers! But, ere this night, Often I watched my sisters take their flight Down heaven's stairway of the cl.u.s.tered stars To gaze on mortals through their lattice bars; And some in sleep they woo with dreams of bliss Too shadowy to tell, and some they kiss.
But all to whom they come, my sisters say, Forthwith forget all joyance of the day, Forget their laughter and forget their tears, And dream away with singing all their years-- Moon-lovers always!
[_She sighs._]
PIERROT.
Why art sad, sweet Moon?
[_Laughs._]
THE LADY.
For this, my story, grant me now a boon.
PIERROT.
I am thy servitor.
THE LADY.
Would, then, I knew More of the earth, what men and women do.
PIERROT.
I will explain.
