  A Fairy Comedy, IN THREE ACTS. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
ACT I. ACT II. ACT III. [The action of the piece takes place within the space of twenty-four hours.] THE PALACE OF TRUTH. ACT I.Scene.—Garden of King Phanor’s Country House. King Phanor discovered with Chrysal, Zoram, AristÆus, and Palmis. AristÆus is standing sulkily apart. As the curtain rises, King Phanor is finishing a recitation which he is accompanying on a mandolin, in a very affected manner. Phanor. “Oh, I would not—no, I would not be there!” (Zoram and Chrysal applaud vigorously.) Chrysal. My lord, I pray you read it once again, My ears are greedy for the golden sound. Phan. Chrysal, you make me blush! Chrys.My lord, a blush Is modesty’s sole herald—and true worth Is ever modest. Pray you, sir, again! Phan. It’s a poor thing—a string of platitudes— Stale metaphors—time-honored similes. I’m a poor poet, gentlemen! Chrys.I swear There never lived a poet till now! Zoram.And then The music you have wedded to the words (I speak of this with some authority) Shames, in its flow of rhythmic melody, The counterpoint of Adam de la Halle! Phan. (bashfully). The merit is not altogether mine. I wrote the music—but I did not make This dainty instrument. Why, who could fail To charm, with such a mandolin as this? Zor. Believe me, the result would be the same, Whether your lordship chose to play upon The simple tetrachord of Mercury That knew no diatonic intervals, Or the elaborate dis-diapason (Four tetrachords, and one redundant note), Embracing in its perfect consonance All simple, double and inverted chords! Phan. (to Chrysal). A wonderful musician—and a man Of infinite good taste! Zor.Why, from my birth I have made melope and counterpoint My favorite study. Phan.And you really care To hear my work again, oh melodist? Zor. Again, my lord, and even then again! Phan. (recites). “When pitch-incrusted night aloft prevails; “When no still goddess through the mid-air sails; “When scorpions vomit forth their poisonous scum; “When to the demon tryst gaunt witches come; “When noisome pestilence stalks through the glen, “Bellowing forth its enmity to men; “When ghastly toads scream loudly through the air; “Oh, I would not—no, I would not be there!” Chrys. (in raptures). Why, where’s the cunning of the sorcerer Placed by the magic of such words as these? “When pitch-incrusted night aloft prevails;” Why, there’s an epithet might make day night, And shame the swallows to their couching place! “When no still goddess through the mid-air sails!” Why, here’s a blackness, Zoram, so intense It scares the very deities away! Phan. (explaining). “Still goddess” means the moon. Chrys.The moon—my lord? Of course—the moon! See how, in ignorance, We seek upon the surface of the wave For pearls that lie uncounted fathoms deep. The darkness frightens e’en the moon away! The metaphor is perfect! Phan. (annoyed).No, no, no! The moon has not yet risen, sir! The moon Frightens the darkness—darkness don’t fright her! Why sits the genial AristÆus there All solitary? How d’you like my work? (Aside to Chrysal) We’ll have some fun with him. (Aloud) Your verdict, come! Arist. I’m blunt and honest. I can’t teach my tongue To lie, as Zoram here, and Chrysal do. I tell the truth, sir. If you want to know My estimate of what you’ve given us, I think your poetry contemptible— Your melody, my lord, beneath contempt. Phan. That’s rather strong. Arist.It’s strong, my lord, but true. I’m blunt—outspoken. If I’ve angered you, So much the worse; I always speak the truth. Chrys. Heed not the yelping of this surly cur, Naught satisfies him, Phanor! Arist.There you’re wrong, For I was satisfied to hear it once; ’Twas you that wanted it a second time! Chrys. Back to your kennel, sham Diogenes! Arist. I’m no Diogenes. He spent his life Seeking an honest man. I live in courts. Zor. My lord, I pray you send the fellow hence, For he and we are always out of tune. An inharmonious bracketing of notes, Whose musical extremes don’t coalesce: He’s sharp and we are flat. Arist.Extremely flat! Chrys. He’s vinegar, my lord, and we are oil. Arist. Oil is a sickening insipid food Unless it’s qualified with vinegar. I’m rough and honest. If I’ve angered you, I’ll go. Phan. No, no, you have not angered us. (Aside to Zoram) I like the fellow’s humor—he may rave! I’m tired of hearing truths, so let him lie! But where’s Queen Altemire? Chrys.My lord, she comes— A perfect type of perfect womanhood. The dew of forty summers on her head Has but matured her beauty, by my life! For five-and-thirty years, a bud—and now A rose full blown! Arist.Say over-blown. Phan.What’s that? Arist. My lord, the Queen’s too fat. Phan.Well, that may be, But don’t you tell her so. Your insolence Amuses me—it won’t amuse the Queen: She has no sense of humor. So take care. Arist. My lord, I’m rough, but honest. I’ve a tongue That can not frame a lie. Phan.But bear in mind Besides that very rough and honest tongue, You have a palate, and a set of teeth, And several delicate contrivances That aid digestion. Tell her she’s too fat, And she may take offense; and, if she does, She’ll throw that apparatus out of work: That’s all. Enter the Queen and Mirza. Good morning, Altemire, my queen. Why, you seem sad. Altem.My lord, I’m very sad. Palmis. The Queen is sad! Zoram, attune your lyre, And soothe her melancholy. Altem.No, no, no— I’m not in cue for music—leave us, pray— I would take counsel with my lord—look, sirs, I am not well. [The three Courtiers exeunt into house. Phan. (aside to Palmis).Palmis, what’s here amiss? What causes this? Have I done any thing? Palmis. I know not, but I think it bears upon Your daughter’s troth to brave Prince Philamir. Whenever we have spoken on the point She has commanded silence. Phan.Well, we’ll see. Chrysal awaits you—you may go to him; Talk to him of your pledge to marry him, And he’ll not silence you. There, you may go. [Exit Palmis into house. Now what’s the matter? Altem.Oh, I’m sick at heart With apprehension! Our dear Zeolide To-morrow is betrothed to Philamir, The bravest and the most accomplished Prince In Christendom. Phanor, she loves him not! Phan. What makes you think so? Altem.Phanor, you are blind! Why see how coldly Zeolide receives His songs of love—his bursts of metaphor: “I love you, Philamir,” and there’s an end. She will vouchsafe her spouse-elect no more— No tenderness—no reciprocity; A cold, half-sullen and half-wayward smile, And that is all. The maiden lavishes More love upon her horse! Phan.Perhaps she thinks Her horse will bear such tokens of regard With more discretion than her lover would! Altem. Phanor, I tell you she loves him not. I am a woman, with a woman’s tact. Phan. She says she loves him. Altem.So indeed she says, And says no more. Phanor, had I been woo’d With ardent songs of overwhelming love, Framed by so fair a poet as Philamir, It would have turned my giddy woman’s brain, And thrilled my reason to its very core! Phan. I never thought my wooing poetry, Now I begin to think it may have been. Mirza. Oh, sir, I love the Princess. Pause before You sacrifice her earthly happiness For sordid ends of selfish policy. The Prince is rich. What then? The girl is poor. But what is wealth of gold to wealth of love? What famine’s so deplorable as his Who hungers for a love he can not find? What luxury so wearisome as hers Who’s surfeited with love she values not? King Phanor, let the Princess be released! Altem. My lady Mirza, you forget yourself! Mirza. I do forget myself, rememb’ring her; I have her happiness at heart. The maid Is more than life to me. Forgive me, Queen. I could not help but speak. Phan.Well, say no more. I’ll question her, and if it then appears She loves not Philamir, she shall be free. I also love the girl—but, here she comes. I’ll find some test which shall decide the point. [Exit Phanor into house. Enter Zeolide. Altem. My daughter, where’s the Prince? Zeo.I can not say; I saw his highness yesterday, but since Have not set eyes on him. Altem.Has he returned From hunting? Zeo.Yes, I heard the Prince’s voice Not half an hour ago. Altem. And, in return, You made no sign to him? Zeo.No sign, indeed. I heard his song—’twas very sweetly sung, It told of love—it called for no reply. Altem. A song of love that called for no reply? Zeo. It asked no question, mother. Altem.Surely, girl, There may be questions that are not expressed. Zeo. And answers, mother—mine was one of them! Altem. Come, Zeolide, I’ve much to say to you. Renounce Prince Philamir ere ’tis too late! He will release you; he is proud and brave, And would not force a hated life on you. Come, Zeolide, throw off this weary bond, And marry whom you love, or marry none! Zeo. As I am bound, dear mother, I’ll remain, So let me stay with Mirza. Altem. (annoyed).You can stay! [Exit Queen Altemire into house, glancing angrily at Mirza; Zeolide notices this with some surprise. Zeo. Why, Mirza, how my mother frowns at you! How have you angered her? Mirza.I love you well; And when I told her of my sister-love, In words more passionate than politic, The Queen rebuked me sternly. Zeo.Oh, for shame! Mirza. She is your mother, and she claims your love, And can not brook that I should share that love. I can forgive the noble jealousy That comes of woman’s love for woman. Zeo.Yes; For you are Mirza—queen of womankind— The best, the noblest woman in the world! Mirza. Why, here is warmth! and people call you cold Because you are so cold to Philamir. Zeo. Why, Mirza, he’s a man! Enter Philamir from house—he overhears Mirza. Mirza.A man indeed! The bravest warrior that wields a sword; The rarest poet that ever penned a lay; An admirable knight—gay, handsome, young, Brave, wealthy, and accomplished—with a tongue Might shame a siren’s! Zeo.Hush! a siren’s tongue Is not renowned for much sincerity. Mirza. He is sincere. Zeo.Indeed, I hope he is! Phil. (coming forward). I thank you, Lady Mirza, for those words. Mirza. (coldly). I little thought that they were overheard. This is ungenerous, Prince Philamir. [Bows coldly and exit; Philamir rushes to Zeolide, who receives him very quietly. Phil. Dear Zeolide, at last we are alone! Oh, I have longed for this! Zeo.Indeed! And why? Phil. And why? We can converse without reserve. Zeo. What should I say when we are quite alone That I should leave unsaid were others here? I can but say, “I love you,” Philamir. Phil. And is that all? Zeo.And is not that enough? Phil. All the world knows you love me! Zeo.That is why I do not blush to own it in the world. Phil. But give me more—I love you, Zeolide, As the earth loves the sun! Zeo.The earth is glad To see the sun, and asks no more than that. You would do well to imitate the earth. Phil. I am content to imitate the earth— I am content to sit and gaze at you, Tranced in a lazy glow of happiness; But if you speak and wake me from that trance, Wake me, dear Zeolide, with warmer words. “I love you!” Why I know you love me well! Say nothing, Zeolide, and I’m content. If you say any thing, say more than that! Zeo. What words could I employ which, tested in The crucible of unimpassioned truth, Would not resolve themselves into those three? Now I must go—your sun’s about to set— So farewell earth! Phil.And when the sun is down The earth is inconsolable! Zeo.Until The moon appears! Perhaps there is a moon That fills my place until I rise again? Phil. No moon, dear Zeolide; or, if there be, She floats in one perpetual eclipse! Zeo. The moon is not the less a moon because The earth thinks fit to hide her from the sun! Phil. Nay; you pursue the metaphor too far. If I, the earth, conceal a nightly moon, Why you, the sun, have many worlds to warm, And some are nearer to you than this earth! Zeo. Hush, Philamir! I’m ready to believe That you’re an earth that knows no moon at all, If you’ll allow that I, although a sun, Consent to warm no other world than this! (Kissing his forehead, and going.) Phil. Oh, do not leave me thus, dear Zeolide. I am a beggar, begging charity; Throw me more coin that bears the stamp of love! Zeo. I have one coin that bears that holy stamp— I give you that—I have no more to give. Phil. Tell me its value, then, in words of love! Zeo. What! would you have me advertise my alms, And trumpet forth my largess to the world? Phil. Not to the world, dear Zeolide—to me! Zeo. Ah, you would have me say “You are my world!” You see, I have the trick of ardent speech, And I could use it, were I so disposed. But surely, Philamir, the mendicant Who is not satisfied to take my alms Until he knows how much that alms be worth, Can scarcely stand in need of alms at all! I love you, Philamir—be satisfied. Whose vows are made so earnestly as hers Who would deceive you by her earnestness? Why, if I sought to trick you, Philamir, I should select such phrases for my end— So passionate—and yet so delicate, So fierce—from overflow of gentle love, So furious—from excess of tenderness, That even your expressions of regard, Unbounded in their hot extravagance, Would pale before the fury of my words, And you, from very shame, would call them back, And beg my pardon for their want of warmth! I love you, Philamir—I’ll say no more! [Exit. Phil. Gone! But I’ll follow her— (going). Enter Phanor from house. Phan.Stop, Philamir, If, as she says, she loves you, well and good; She’ll give you proof of it in her good time; But if she don’t, why take an old boy’s word (Who speaks of love with some authority), She’ll love you none the better for the warmth That prompts you to perpetual persecution. The girl has taken this road—take you that. [Philamir stands irresolute, then goes off slowly, in the direction indicated. That’s good advice! Enter Queen Altemire from house. Altem.My lord, old GÉlanor, The steward of your palace, has arrived, And waits without. Phan.We’ll see him presently. Altem. (with some hesitation). Now, do you know, I often wonder why, Possessing such a palace, furnished with The rarest luxuries that wealth can buy, You hold your Court in this secluded place? I have been married to you eighteen years, Yet I have never seen this palace, which Stands barely twenty miles away, and which You visit regularly once a month. Phan. (rather confused). There are good reasons, Altemire. Altem. (angry).No doubt! Exceedingly good reasons! When a man Maintains a bachelor establishment, He has the best of reasons to decline To take his wife there! Phan.You’re a jealous fool. Altem. Jealous I am, and possibly a fool, But not a fool for being jealous. Phan.Peace, And I will tell you why I take you not. That palace is enchanted. Every one Who enters there is bound to speak the truth— The simple, unadulterated truth. To every question that is put to him He must return the unaffected truth, And strange to say, while publishing the truth He’s no idea that he is doing so; And while he lets innumerable cats Out of unnumbered bags, he quite believes That all the while he’s tightening the strings That keep them from a too censorious world. What do you say to that? Altem. (amazed).Say? Would the world Were one such palace, Phanor! Phan.If it were, At least we all should meet on equal terms; But to be taken from a world in which That influence don’t exist, and to be placed Inside a fairy palace where it does (Accompanied, moreover, by one’s wife), Might take one at a disadvantage! Altem.Well, I am prepared to undergo the test If you’ll accompany me. Phan.No, no, no! You are a worthy woman, Altemire, But, Altemire, you have your faults! Altem.My lord, I am a woman! Phan.Yes, exactly so; If you were not a woman, Altemire, Or, being one, were some one else’s wife, I’d take you there to-morrow! Altem.But, my lord, Why won’t you take me, being what I am? Phan. Because, my wife, I don’t know what you are. Altem. You know, at least, that I’m a faithful wife. Phan. I think you’re more than faithful. I believe You are a perfect woman, Altemire, A pattern as a mother and a wife— And, so believing, why I do not care To run the risk of being undeceived! Altem. (annoyed). My lord, you are unjust! Can you believe I should expose myself to such a test Had I been guilty of unfaithfulness? I am no perfect woman, Phanor. I have faults That advertise themselves. No need to say That I’m quick-tempered, jealous, over-prone To underrate the worth of womankind— Impetuous—unreasonable—vain— I am a woman, with a woman’s faults. But, being woman, Phanor, I’m a wife; And, in that I am one, I need not blush. You have some better reason. Possibly You dread the palace on your own account? Phan. I dread the palace, Altemire? No, no. I am a child of impulse. All my faults Lie on the surface. I have naught to hide. Such little faults as sully me you know. Altem. Or guess. Phan.Ha! Am I then to understand My Queen suspects her husband? Altem.Yes, you are! Phan. Then this decides me. You shall go with me. Altem. But— Phan. Not a word—King Phanor can not brook The breath of jealousy. With all his faults His married life has been as pure as snow. We two will go this morning. Altem.Stay! A thought! Let us take Zeolide and Philamir, They shall not know the fairy influence To which they are subjected. If the maid Does not love Philamir, she’ll show it then, And the betrothal can be canceled. If She loves him, why, she’ll show it all the more: Then the betrothal shall be ratified. Phan. We will take Zeolide and Philamir, Chrysal and Zoram—AristÆus too, And Palmis—yes, and blameless Lady Mirza— Mirza, the good, the beautiful, the pure! Altem. Mirza! Eternal Mirza! Everywhere I hear her irritating virtues praised! I’m weary of the woman! Phan.Stop a bit, Till we are in the palace. Then we’ll learn Not only your opinion of her worth, But also why you hold it. Altem.Well, well, well! The maid is young and beautiful, and I Am envious of that youth and beauty. See, I can anticipate the influence To which I’m going to subject myself. There I was wrong. Mirza shall go with us, And by her conduct under such a test, Prove the injustice of my estimate. I’ll go and warn the Court. [Exit Queen Altemire into house. Phan.The course I take Is rather rash, but the experiment Will not be destitute of interest. Enter GÉlanor from house. Well, GÉlanor, what tidings do you bring? About our palace? GÉlan.Sir, the old, old tale. Men come and go—and women come and go. Although the palace gates are opened wide To rich and poor alike—and rich and poor Alike receive full hospitality For any length of time they care to stay, Few care to stay above a day or two. Free entertainment in a princely home Is little valued when it’s coupled with The disadvantage of a dwelling-place Where every one is bound to speak the truth. When does my lord propose to start? Phan.To-day. But this time not alone, good GÉlanor. GÉlan. And who is to accompany you, sir? Phan. My wife. GÉlan.Your wife? Phan.My wife. GÉlan.Great heavens, my lord, Have you reflected? Phan.Yes. GÉlan.To any place Where one is bound to speak the baldest truth Concerning all the actions of one’s life, It’s hardly politic to take one’s wife! Phan. Oh, I’ve the fullest confidence in her. She’s a good woman, GÉlanor. GÉlan.Ah, sir, I have seen married couples by the score, Who, when they passed within our crystal walls, Have boldly advertised themselves prepared To stake their souls upon each other’s faith— But who, before they’ve spent an hour at most Under the castle’s mystic influence, Have separated ne’er to meet again! Oh, have a care! Phan.Queen Altemire knows all, And knowing all she fears not for herself, So I’ve no fear for her! GÉlan.But you, my liege— How will you bear yourself ’neath such a test? You have been married nearly eighteen years: That’s a long time! Enter Mirza, unobserved. Phan.Well, yes—I’ve thought of that. I’m a good husband—as good husbands go. I love my wife—but still—you understand— Boys will be boys! There is a point or two— Say two, as being nearer to the mark— On which I do not altogether care To stand examination by my wife. Perhaps I may have given out that I’ve Been dining here—when I’ve been dining there— I may have said “with A”—when ’twas with B— I may have said “with him”—when ’twas with her— Distinctions such as these, good GÉlanor, Though strangely unimportant in themselves, Still have a value, which the female mind’s Particularly quick to apprehend. Now here’s a talisman—a crystal box—(producing it). Whoever carries this within those walls May overcome the castle’s influence, And utter truth or falsehood as he wills. I should do well, I think, to take this box? GÉlan. From all accounts, my lord, I think you would! (Sees Mirza) Ahem! We are observed! Mirza.My lord, I trust My presence here is not inopportune? I will withdraw. Phan.No, Lady Mirza, no! I was exhibiting to GÉlanor A curious specimen of crystal work— He understands such things. Mirza. (taking box).And so do I. How marvelously pure! No single flaw Affects its exquisite transparency! A perfect emblem of a spotless life! GÉlan. But, Lady Mirza, perfect spotlessness Is apt to smack of insipidity. Mirza. No—hold it to the light, and see the change! See how its exquisite prismatic hues, Under the influence of searching light, Are instantly made clear and manifest. As shines this crystal in the sun, so shines A perfect woman in the light of truth. The modest beauties of a spotless life Remain unknown and unsuspected, till A ray of truth-light starts them into life, And shows them—all unwilling—to the world! GÉlan. But there are hidden qualities of soul That even truth can not detect. Suppose This crystal, peerless in its spotlessness, Turned out to be a potent talisman, With power to work all kinds of devilry? There are such things! Phan. (aside).Why there are women, too (I have known many such), to whom the box Might still be very properly compared! Mirza. Impossible, my lord. I’ll not believe That aught so beautiful could be so base. (Returning it) I thank you, sir. I’ve read a lesson here That I shall take good heed to profit by. Enter the Queen Altemire, with Zeolide, Phanor, AristÆus, Zoram, and Palmis, from house. Altem. Here comes your Court, my lord. Phan.That’s well. My friends, I have a palace, twenty miles away— A lovely place, engirt with crystal walls; Its grounds will show fair flowers and shady groves, Huge forest trees, rare fountains, hill and dale. There’s hunting, fishing—eighteen years preserved! There the sun shines unclouded all day long. What say you—will you go? Chrys.Go? What care I Whether it rain or shine so that I may Bask in the sunshine of my King and Queen! Phan. In half an hour we start. Once there, our life Shall be a song, and AristÆus here, The jolly, genial, laughing AristÆus, Shall strike the key-note! Arist.Well, I’ll do my best. Zor. But pray consider. If the intervals Throughout the diatonic series, sir, Were mathematically equal, why It would not greatly matter, as you know, Upon what note your melody commenced. But as it is not so, we must respect The intervals the melody demands. No key-note struck by AristÆus could Be correspondent with those intervals! Phil. I’ll give the key-note. We will pass the day By quivering willows at the waterside, Lapped in a lazy luxury of love! There we’ll forget the world of work-a-day, And crown our happiness with songs of love! What say you, dearest Zeolide? Zeo.I’ve said As much as it is maidenly to say— I love you, Philamir—be satisfied! Scene.—Interior of the Palace of Truth. Enter GÉlanor, meeting King Phanor and Queen Altemire and Zeolide. GÉlan. Welcome, my lord! Madam, I humbly trust The palace realizes all the hopes That you had entertained concerning it. Altem. Indeed, it far exceeds them, GÉlanor. There is no lovelier abode on earth! And so says Zeolide. Zeo.Indeed she does! Why, father, I have lived near eighteen years, And never knew until three hours ago That you possessed so lovely a domain! Why have I wasted eighteen years on earth, When such a heaven as this awaited me? GÉlan. (aside to Phanor). You have not told the Princess or your Court The palace’s peculiarity? Phan. Not I. The secret is our own, as yet— The Queen’s, and yours, and mine. GÉlan.With you and me The secret’s safe. But then—Queen Altemire— If you have told her all— Phan.No, no—not all! Here is a secret which is yours and mine; (producing crystal box) And yours and mine the secret shall remain. Protected by this talisman, I stand, A sturdy rock amid the shifting sands— A salamander in a world of fire— Achilles in a crowd of myrmidons— Achilles, with an iron-plated heel! Go, send my courtiers—I anticipate No ordinary sport from watching them. [Exeunt GÉlanor and Phanor. Altem. What are you reading, Zeolide? Zeo. (with scroll).A song Written by Chrysal set to Zoram’s notes; They gave it me before we left our home, But in the hurry of the journey here, I managed to mislay it—here it is. Enter Zoram, Chrysal, and AristÆus. And here are author and composer, too— And Critic, teeming with humanity. Come let us hear it. (Zeolide sings a song. At its conclusion Chrysal and Zoram applaud) Chrys. (coming forward with all the action of a man who is expressing extreme approval). Oh, I protest, my ears have never heard A goodly song more miserably sung. (Clapping hands) Oh, very poor indeed—oh, very weak, No voice—no execution—out of tune— Pretentious too—oh, very, very poor! (Applauding as if in ecstacies.) Altem. (amused). Indeed! I think I’ve often heard you say No voice could rival Princess Zeolide’s? Chrys. (enthusiastically). I’ve often said so—I have praised her voice, Because I am a courtier—paid to praise. I never meant one word of what I said; I have the worst opinion of her voice, And so has Zoram. Zor.I? Oh, dear me, no! I can form no opinion on the point, I am no judge of music. Chrys.Eh? Zor.Not I! I hardly know the treble from the bass, And as to harmony—I know the word, But hang me if I guess at what it means! Zeo. Oh, Zoram, you are jesting—why you wrote The air I sung! Zor.I wrote the air? Not I, I paid a poor musician for his work, And palmed it off upon you as my own. A common trick with melodists who stand Far higher in the world’s esteem than I! Altem. Well, AristÆus there has still to speak. What says that rollicking philosopher? Come, growl it out! Arist. (gruffly, as if finding fault.) It’s sweetly pretty, ma’am, And very nicely sung. I like it much. Zeo. What! AristÆus pleased? Arist. (very savagely).Of course I am; I’m always pleased with every thing. Altem.Indeed! Men look on AristÆus as a man Whom nothing satisfies. Arist. (with outrageous bluntness). Then men are wrong, No child’s more easily amused than I. But, here at Court, where every one is pleased With every thing, my amiability Would go for naught; so I have coined myself A disposition foreign to my own, In hopes my clumsy boorish insolence Might please you by its very novelty; And prove, perchance, a not unwelcome foil To Zoram’s mockery of cultured taste, And Chrysal’s chronic insincerity! I’m rough and honest, frank—outspoken—blunt. Chrys. Boor! when you dare to say I’m insincere You tell the truth—there, make the most of that! Zor. Chrysal, your hand; I’m glad to find at last Your eyes are opened to your many faults. Chrys. How, sir, is this intentional affront? Zor. No, not intentional. I tried to frame A pleasant speech, but, by some awkward slip, The truth escaped me quite against my will. (With great admiration) You systematic liar! Chrys.Insolent! Zor. Sir! Chrys.This shall cost or you or me his life. In half an hour you shall hear from me! [Exit Chrysal. Zor. (in terror). What have I said? Altem. (aside).These boobies must not fight, But how to stop them? Here comes Philamir! Now he and Zeolide can meet. But first I must get rid of Zoram. (To Zoram). Get you hence, I will contrive to pacify your foe. Zor. But— Altem.Go! Zor. (piteously). I’m sure I don’t know what I’ve done! [Exeunt Zoram and Queen Altemire. Enter Philamir,—Zeolide runs to him and embraces him—he turns away. Zeo. My love, is Philamir unhappy? Phil.Yes. I have heard people talking of our troth, And prophesying that it will soon cease. Zeo. Indeed! They think you do not love me, then? Phil. They doubt not that—they doubt your love for me. Some say it sleeps; some say that it is dead; Some that it never lived. Oh, Zeolide, If love for Philamir is yet unborn, Why bring it now to light! Where will you find A fitter nursery for love than this? If that love lives, but sleeps, why wake it now And let it revel in these golden groves. If it is dead, why here’s a paradise That well might summon it to second life! Zeo. It sleeps not, Philamir, nor is it dead, It lives and can not die. Phil.But people say That love should advertise itself in words More fervid than the weary formula, “I love you, Philamir.” You love your friends. Why, Zeolide, I think I’ve heard you say You love your horse! Zeo.Unjust! You ask me, then, To limit my illimitable love, And circle, with a boundary of words, A wealth of love that knows no bounds at all! There is a love that words may typify— A mere material love—that one may weigh As jewelers weigh gold. Such love is worth The gold one pays for it—it’s worth no more. Why, Philamir, I might as well attempt To set a price upon the universe— Or measure space—or time eternity, As tell my love in words! Phil. (astonished).Why, Zeolide, At last you speak! Why this, indeed, is love! Zeo. (aside). What have I said? (Aloud and coldly) Indeed, I’m glad to think My words have pleased you! Phil. (with enthusiasm).Pleased me? They’ve done more— They’ve gratified my vanity, and made Me feel that I am irresistible! Zeo. Indeed! Phil.Indeed, dear Zeolide, they have. Why how you frown! Zeo. (coldly).If such a love as mine Serves but to feed your sense of vanity, I think it is misplaced. Phil.My vanity Must needs be fed, and with such love as yours. I have worked hard to gain it, Zeolide! You are not nearly as attractive as Five hundred other ladies I could name, Who, when I said I loved them, stopped my lips— Zeo. (astonished). I’m glad they did! Phil.With kisses, ere I could Repeat the sentence; and it hurt me much That you, who are comparatively plain, Should give me so much trouble, Zeolide. Zeo. (aside). What can he mean? (Aloud.) Oh, you are mocking me— Phil. Mocking you, Zeolide? You do me wrong! (With enthusiasm) Oh, place the fullest value on my words, And you’ll not overvalue them! I swear, As I’m a Christian knight, I speak the truth! Zeo. Why, Philamir, you’ve often told me that You never loved a woman till we met! Phil. (with all the appearance of rapture). I always say that. I have said the same To all the women that I ever woo’d! Zeo. And they believ’d you? Phil.Certainly they did. They always do! Whatever else they doubt, They don’t doubt that! (He tries to embrace her.) Zeo. (horror-struck).Away, and touch me not! Phil. What? Has my earnestness offended you, Or do you fear that my impassioned speech Is over-colored? Trust me, Zeolide, If it be over-charged with clumsy love, Or teem with ill-selected metaphor, It is because my soul is not content To waste its time in seeking precious stones, When paste will answer every end as well! Zeo. Why, Philamir, dare you say this to me? Phil. All this, and more than this, I dare to say. I dare to tell you that I like you much, For you are amiable, refined, and good— Saving a little girlish diffidence I have no serious fault to find with you! Zeo. You’re very good! Phil.Indeed, I think I am, But let that pass. In truth I like you much. At first I loved you in an off-hand way! Zeo. At first? Phil.Until the novelty wore off, And then, receiving but a cold response To all the seeming fury of my love, My pride was nettled, and I persevered Until I made you tell me of your love, In words that bore comparison with mine. I’ve done that, and I’m amply satisfied. Zeo. (in blank astonishment). And this is Philamir, who used to breathe Such words of passion and such songs of love! Those words that fiercely burnt with such false fire, Those songs that sung so lovingly of lies, Bore unsuspected fruit—I gathered it And garnered it away. Oh, Philamir, As misers store up gold, I stored my love In all the inmost corners of my heart, Dreading to speak or look at Philamir, Lest some unguarded word or tell-tale glance Should give a clew to all the wealth within! I laughed within myself, as misers laugh, To find my hoard increasing day by day, And now—the coin I hoarded up is base— The flowers that decked my life are worthless weeds— The fruit I plucked is withered at the core— And all my wealth has faded into air! Phil. Faded? Why, Zeolide, what do you mean? I do not love you as a lover should, Yet you reproach me! Oh, you are unjust. Zeo. Indeed, I’ll not reproach you! Let me go. My grief shall be as silent as my love. Farewell! [Exit. Phil. That woman’s mad! Unquestionably mad! My show of love has sent her brain adrift. Poor girl! I really like her very much. I tell her that I love her—and in words Which never yet were known to miss their mark When uttered by Prince Philamir—in words So charged with passion that they well might charm The very proudest maid in Christendom; And off she bounces as indignantly As if I’d told the very plainest truth! Enter Chrysal. Chrys. Your Royal Highness seems disturbed. Phil.I am! I’m much annoyed with Princess Zeolide. You know how coldly she has hitherto Received the protestations of my love? Chrys. (politely). I do indeed. You’ve been the laughing-stock Of all the Court for months on that account. Phil. (amazed). Oh, have I so? Chrys.Upon my soul, you have. Phil. You’re candid, sir. Chrys. (still as if paying a compliment). I can afford to be Extremely candid with Prince Philamir. But let that pass. You were reminding me How coldly Princess Zeolide received Your vows. What then? Phil.Why, not ten minutes since Her manner changed, and all her pent-up love Burst from her lips in frenzied eloquence. I was astounded!—I, of course, began To echo all her sentiments ten-fold. I picked the very fairest flowers that grow Upon the dreamy plains of metaphor, And showered them upon her. White with rage She started from me—telling me, with tears, Her dream of love had melted into air! I see you don’t believe me, Chrysal— Chrys.Well, I half believe you. I can scarcely think The Princess spoke with rapture of your love; But I can quite believe that when you spoke In what you’re pleased to think is metaphor, The well-bred Princess shrank instinctively From such a florid prince as Philamir (with a respectful bow). Phil. (haughtily). This form of compliment is new to me! Chrys. My lord, my speciality consists In framing novel forms of compliment. But who comes here—a modest little maid— Enter AzÈma—she starts on seeing Philamir and Chrysal. And rather pretty too. Phil. (angrily). She hears you, sir! (Politely to AzÈma) I fear we’ve frightened you? AzÈma.Oh no, indeed, I am not frightened, though I seem to be. (AzÈma’s manner is characterized by the extremest modesty and timidity throughout this scene.) Chrys. But why affect a fear you do not feel? AzÈma. (with extreme timidity). Because, although I entered here to seek Prince Philamir, I’m anxious he should think This meeting is a simple accident. Do not suppose that this is modesty, ’Tis but an artifice to make you think That I am timid as a startled fawn! Chrys. (aside to Philamir). This is a character. I’ll open fire And storm her weakest point—her vanity. Now, my artillery of compliments, A salvo, if you please. (Aloud, with the air of one who is paying an elaborate compliment) I have remarked That you’ve a certain girlish prettiness, Although your nose is sadly underbred. (Aside) That’s rather neat! AzÈma.Are you Prince Philamir? Chrys. Not I, indeed, fair lady. This is he—The most conceited coxcomb in the world (with an elaborate bow to Philamir, who starts angrily). No thanks—indeed ’tis true. AzÈma. (to Chrysal). Then go your way— I don’t want you! I only want the prince. ’Twas Philamir I came to captivate. Chrys. Here’s candor if you like! AzÈma.Oh, leave us, sir! Find some excuse to go, that he and I May be alone together. Phil.Leave me, sir. I’ll give your tongue a lesson ere the night! Chrys. How has my tongue offended?—Oh, I see— Exactly—don’t explain! (Aside) Poor Zeolide! [Exit. Phil. Insolent scoundrel! (following him.) AzÈma.Oh, don’t follow him. I want you here alone. You can begin— I am not shy, though I appear to be. Indeed, I entered here ten minutes since, Because I heard from those outside the gates, That you, Prince Philamir, had just arrived. Phil. Then you’re a stranger here? AzÈma.I am, indeed! The people told me any one was free To enter. Phil.Yes, quite right. Did they say more? AzÈma. Oh, yes, much more. They told me, then, that you Received but sorry treatment at the hands Of Princess Zeolide. They told me, too, That your betrothal might ere long collapse; (With extreme modesty) So thought I, as I am beyond dispute The fairest maid for many a mile around— And as, moreover, I possess the gift Of feigning an enchanting innocence, I possibly may captivate the prince, And fill the place once filled by Zeolide. (Sits; her ankle is exposed.) Phil. The Princess has a candid enemy! I beg your pardon, but the furniture Has caught your dress. AzÈma. (re-arranging her dress hastily) Oh, I arranged it so, That you might see how truly beautiful My foot and ankle are (as if much shocked at the exposÉ). Phil.I saw them well, They’re very neat. AzÈma.I now remove my glove That you may note the whiteness of my hand. I place it there in order that you may Be tempted to inclose it in your own. Phil. To that temptation I at once succumb. (Taking her hand—she affects to withdraw it angrily.) AzÈma. (with affected indignation.) Go on! If you had any enterprise, You’d gently place your arm around my waist And kiss me. (Struggling to release herself) Phil.It might anger you! AzÈma.Oh, no! It’s true that I should start with every show Of indignation, just in order to Maintain my character for innocence— But that is all. Phil. (puts his arm round her and kisses her). There, then—’tis done! AzÈma. (starting, with a great show of rage). How, sir? I think it’s time that I should take my leave. (Very indignantly) I shall be in the Avenue of Palms At ten o’clock to-night. I mention this That you may take the hint and be there, too! (going.) Phil. One moment, pray. Let me assure you now, That such an unmistakable coquette, And one who shows her cards so candidly, Will not supplant the Princess Zeolide! AzÈma. (surprised). Supplant the Princess Zeolide? Why, sir, By what authority do you imply That I have cherished any such design? Phil. Your own admission. AzÈma.Oh, impossible! (Indignantly) But as it seems that I’ve no chance with you, I’ll try the gentleman who left us here. He comes! Enter Chrysal. Oh, sir, I crave a word with you! Are you a wealthy man? (with extreme delicacy of manner.) Chrys.I am, indeed. AzÈma. And you’ve a title? Chrys.Yes, of highest rank. AzÈma. A bachelor? Chrys.A bachelor as yet, Betrothed to Palmis. AzÈma. (shrinking).Oh! (Hopefully.) But possibly You do not love her much! Chrys. (with enthusiasm). Oh, not at all! AzÈma. You’ll do—give me your arm. (He does so—she shrinks.) Oh, sir, indeed— (Impatiently to Chrysal, who hesitates) Do take my hand and put it through your arm. (He does so) That’s it! Oh, sir, indeed I know you not! [Exeunt Chrysal and AzÈma,—AzÈma affecting to try and release herself. Philamir stands astounded for a moment. Phil. I’ve found a clew that solves these mysteries! This palace is enchanted ground! It’s plain That there’s some subtle influence at work, Affecting everybody here—but me! Chrysal, the honey-tongued, turns out to be A blunt and scurrilous outspoken boor; Zoram, the musical enthusiast, Can hardly tell the treble from the bass; Then AristÆus, surly, blunt and gruff, Turns out to be the gentlest soul alive; And, most inexplicable change of all, The amiable but prudish Zeolide Becomes a foolish vixen, blind with love, Maddened with jealous and unreasoning rage! Then comes a girl—a commonplace coquette— Who, while she lays her plans with practiced skill, Explains their aim, and holds them to the light That all may see their arrant hollowness! It’s evident there’s some enchantment here That shows up human nature as it is, And I alone resist its influence! Ah, here is Mirza—lovely paragon— I’ll notice how it operates on her. Enter Mirza. Mirza. (starts). I beg your pardon. I was looking for My diary; I’ve dropped it hereabouts. Phil. Allow me to assist you in your search? Mirza. (hastily). No, no; that must not be. My diary Must ne’er be seen by other eyes than mine! Phil. Indeed! and why? Mirza.My very inmost thoughts— The secret utterances of my heart— Are there inscribed. I would not for my life, That any eyes but mine should rest on it. Phil. Can Lady Mirza harbor any thought That all the world may not participate? I’ll not believe it. Mirza. (eagerly). Hush—I charge you, sir! Ask me no questions here—for I have learnt That this is fairy ground, where every one Is bound, against his will, to speak the truth. If you interrogate me, I am bound To answer truly. I need say no more To such a courteous knight as Philamir. Phil. (aside). It is then as I thought! (Aloud) I guessed the truth— This palace doubtless is enchanted ground, And I alone resist its influence! Mirza. Indeed! Phil.I had occasion some time since To feign unbounded love for Zeolide (For whom I don’t particularly care): Well, notwithstanding my indifference, I spoke with all my usual gush of love, From which I venture to conclude that I Am unaffected by this magic power. Mirza. You do not love the Princess Zeolide? You who professed unutterable love? Phil. I liked her well enough at first, but now I’m weary of my liking. She displays So much unreasonable petulance, Such causeless anger—such unbridled wrath, That I’m resolved to break the weary link That binds us. I’ll be free to love again. (Taking Mirza’s hand) Mirza. (releasing herself). Oh, Philamir! Oh, shame upon you, sir. She loves you! You are loved by Zeolide! Why there’s a heaven opened to your eyes, And you’ll not enter, Philamir! Oh, shame To blight so true a heart as hers! Oh, fool, To throw aside in wrath so fair a prize! Phil. But listen—I’ve a fairer prize in view. Mirza—I love you! Mirza. (shuddering with terror). Spare me, sir, I pray! Phil. Now by this castle’s mystic influence, I challenge you to answer truthfully— Do you love me? Mirza. (shrinking from him). Have pity, Philamir! Withdraw your question, I beseech you, sir! If you insist, I must perforce reply— I charge you, on your knighthood, press me not! (Philamir pauses, struggling with his feelings.) Phil. (releasing her). My Lady Mirza, you are free to go. [Exit Mirza hastily. How subtly works the mystic influence, That all seem subject to,—excepting me! And from the fearful ordeal only one Of all the women here comes out unscathed. The peerless Mirza—good, and wise, and pure, Most excellent and unapproachable! To know that Mirza loves me, is to know That she is mortal—that I knew before. To know that Mirza’s worthy of my love, And that, despite the searching influence That I alone resist—oh, this indeed Is happiness!—I’m sure she loves me well! Enter Zeolide. Zeo. Indeed she does! If half-an-hour ago She spoke abruptly to her Philamir, She bitterly repents it. Oh, my love, Forgive me, for in truth I love you well! Phil. (embracing her fondly). But my remark did not apply to you; I spoke of Lady Mirza. Zeo. (recoiling).Mirza? Phil.Yes, I’m quite convinced she loves me! Zeo.Philamir, You should not jest with such a sacred word. You’ve played your joke upon me and you’ve seen How readily I fell into the trap; Let that content you. There—I’m not annoyed— I’ll not be caught again! Phil. (earnestly).Dear Zeolide, Indeed I do not jest—nor did I when You left me in unwarrantable rage. I love the Lady Mirza—she loves me. Zeo. (horrified). She told you so? Phil.Well, no. I’m bound to say She did not tell me so in open words; Her love for you restrained her. She’s too good— Too pure—too honorable—to allow A passion for her dearest friend’s betrothed To master her. You should have heard her plead Your hopeless cause. She struggles with her love, And tries to keep it down—but still she loves. Zeo. (astounded). And you return this love? Phil.Most heartily. (With affectionate gesture). I’m getting weary of you, and I wish That I could find sufficient argument To justify me in releasing you. (She shrinks from him.) Why now you frown again! Oh, Zeolide, This willfulness is insupportable! Zeo. (enraged). Support it then no longer, Philamir! There—you are free—our bond is at an end; Choose your path, I’ll choose mine. Our roads diverge. We part and may not meet again. Farewell! (Changing her manner) Oh, Philamir, heed not my words, I spoke In reckless haste—I spoke my death-warrant! Philamir, do not leave me, let me live; See how I love you! I am at your feet— I, Zeolide, whom once you thought so cold— I, Zeolide, who am not wont to kneel! Oh, give me till to-night, and pass the hours That intervene in marshaling the past, And let that plead my cause! You loved me once, You asked me for my love—I gave my life, For I must die if you abandon me! Have mercy on me! Give me till to-night! There’s some enchantment in this fearful place. This is not Philamir—it is his shape, But does not hold his soul. Before the night I’ll seek my father, and I’ll gain from him The key that solves this fearful mystery. Go now—nay, do not speak—no—not a word— I’ll not believe that this is Philamir. Go, leave me now—and we will meet to-night! [He hesitates; then exit. Oh, Philamir, my love, my love, my love! (She falls sobbing on couch). Enter Palmis. Palmis. What? Zeolide in tears? Has Philamir Been too emphatic in his vows of love? Have pity on him! Zeo.Palmis, pity me— He loves me not! Palmis.Indeed? Zeo.He told me so. Palmis. (relieved). Oho! He told you so? Zeo.Most openly. Palmis. Then there is hope for you. Come dry your eyes; When men are over head and ears in love, They can not tell the truth—they must deceive, Though the deception tell against themselves! Here Chrysal comes—(astonished) a lady on his arm! Enter Chrysal and AzÈma—he leaves AzÈma abruptly on seeing Palmis. Palmis. Why, Chrysal, who is this? Where have you been? Chrys. (affectionately). I have been wandering through shady groves With that exceedingly attractive girl. Palmis. You have been flirting, sir? Chrys. (putting his arm round her waist). Exceedingly! I always do when I’m away from you. Palmis. (to AzÈma). Oh, you’re a brazen woman! AzÈma. (with great modesty).That I am! An ordinary every-day coquette, Who lives on admiration, and resolves To gain it by whatever means she can. Zeo. (aside to Palmis). Palmis, there’s some enchantment in this place— I know not what—it influences all. Do not dismiss him yet, until we learn Its nature! Chrys. (with affection). Yes, my Palmis, wait awhile, Do not dismiss me yet; although it’s true I never loved you, yet I want your love Because you have much influence at Court, And have it in your power to help me on To further favor. Palmis. (astounded). Chrysal, are you mad? You never loved me? Chrys. (enthusiastically). Never, on my soul! In point of fact, I always hated you, And mean to tell you so when I have won The highest rank your mistress can confer. In the mean time, however, I am fain To make you think that I adore you still. Observe the heaving of my swelling heart; My fervid manner—my ecstatic gaze— It’s all assumed! Palmis.Oh, miserable man! Go—get you hence, sir. Chrys. (astonished).Palmis, what on earth Possesses you? Palmis.Don’t speak to me again, I can’t endure you! Re-enter Zoram. Zor.I am glad of this. Dear Palmis, I for many a weary day Have sought to win your love from Chrysal here, By every mean, contemptible device That my unequaled cunning could suggest. Chrys. (amazed). And you admit this to my very face? Zor. (cordially). With pleasure, Chrysal. I have sought in vain, By daily blackening your character, To sicken pretty Palmis of her love. I’ve told her you’re an unexampled rake, A gambler and a spendthrift, mean, poor, base, Selfish and sordid; cruel, tyrannical; But all in vain, she loves you all the more. (Taking his hand) Forget the angry words you spoke to-day; In the glad glow of hope that I shall gain Your Palmis’ love, I freely pardon you. Chrys. (in furious rage). This evening, in the Avenue of Palms, I shall await you, sir. Zor. (in blank astonishment). Oh dear, oh dear, What have I said? Enter GÉlanor. GÉlan.Hush, gentlemen—the Queen. Re-enter Queen Altemire hastily. Altem. (in a rage). Where is the King? Go, send him here to me. Oh, Zeolide, go, get you hence away, For I have words for Phanor that ’twere best His daughter did not hear. Zeo.My father comes. Re-enter Phanor and Mirza. Altem. Now, sir, I’ve every reason to believe, From what I’ve heard, that you’re deceiving me! I’ll question you—oh, infamous old man! Phan. (aside). The Queen is jealous. Where’s my talisman? (finds it.) All right—it’s well I have it with me now. (Aloud) Interrogate me. Conscious innocence Has little fear of Palaces of Truth! Altem. You have been walking in the shrubbery, What were you doing there? Phan. (with great show of love for Altemire). Why, making love To Mirza. I invariably do Whenever I’ve a chance; but all in vain. She’s a good woman, and despises me. (To Mirza) Haven’t I offered love to you? Mirza.You have. Phan. And you despise me, don’t you? Mirza.Heartily. Phan. (to Altemire). I told you so, and she indorses it. Believe me, I am bound to speak the truth! Altem. (bitterly). I do believe you. Phan. (taking her by the hand). Thank you, Altemire. Altem. Stand off, don’t touch me, horrible old man! You tell me you’ve made love to Mirza? Phan. (astonished).No! Did I say that? Altem.Most unmistakably. Phan. Oh, come, I say! Zor.You did indeed, my lord! Phan. I said that I made love to Mirza? Chrys.Yes, Those were the very words! Phan.Oh, Mirza, come, You can deny this! Mirza.Would, my lord, I could. To spare the Queen I would be silent, but Some unknown power masters me, and makes Me own, against my will, that it was so! Altem. There, sir—you hear her words! Phan. (aside to GÉlanor).Why, GÉlanor, How’s this? The talisman is out of gear! (Showing box to GÉlanor). GÉlan. Let me examine it. (Takes it and returns it.) A forgery! A clever imitation; virtueless! It lacks the small inscription on the hinge! (Phanor falls breathless into a chair.) Phan. To-morrow morning we go home again! Scene.—The Avenue of Palms—night. Chrysal discovered with a drawn sword in his hand. Enter GÉlanor. GÉlan. Chrysal, alone! And with a naked sword! Chrys. I’m waiting Zoram. I have challenged him. He meets me here—the Avenue of Palms. GÉlan. Has he offended you? Chrys.Most grievously. You heard the words he used to me to-day? GÉlan. I did. Chrys.Then blood must flow. I am a knight. My knightly honor claims this sacrifice, I’ve been insulted—one of us must die! GÉlan. You are a valiant man, if one may judge By your demeanor. Chrys. (very valiantly).My demeanor? Bounce! Mere idle empty froth and nothing more. Why, notwithstanding that I look so brave, I’d give the riches of a universe To find some decent means of backing out; But, no, my honor must be satisfied! If I endured with patience Zoram’s taunts, I should deserve to have my knightly spurs Struck from my heels! ’Sdeath, sir, I’m bound to fight! GÉlan. Is Zoram a good swordsman? Chrys.Not at all. I’m far more skilled—but still I can’t repress A certain sense of terror. Accident May give him victory. GÉlan.Apologize! Chrys. (indignantly). To Zoram? Never! Would you have me stain My hitherto untarnished ’scutcheon? Shame! Stand back—he comes! Enter Zoram, with drawn sword. Well, sir, you’ve kept your word. Zor. Of course I have! Chrys. (very sternly). I’m very much surprised— I may say disappointed—to remark That you’re prepared to fight, and do not show The signs of terror that I hoped to see. Zor. (very bravely). Oh, sir, I pray you don’t deceive yourself! My valiant manner hides an inward fear That almost robs me of the power of thought! Chrysal, you’ve grievously insulted me, My sense of honor forces me to fight! But I would rather have my hand cut off (Could that be done without inflicting pain) Than measure swords with you! Chrys.You craven hound! Zor. Craven yourself! Chrys. (furiously). I am, but you don’t know it, You musical impostor! Zor.Ha, what’s that? I can stand much abuse and never flinch, But when you twit me with my ignorance Of musical expressions, blood alone (Unless we’re interrupted) can extract The venom of the insult! Come! On guard! (They fight.) GÉlan. (aside). These donkeys must not fight! (Aloud) Come—let me try To reconcile you. Chrys.Reconcile us? No! But you can interfere to stop the fight! (They desist.) Zor. (looking reproachfully at GÉlanor). I little thought when I called Chrysal on, That such a venerable gentleman Would suffer two impetuous headstrong youths To cut each other’s throats. GÉlan.Come, come—desist. Chrys. This hound abused me! Zor.He insulted me! Both. Our honor must be satisfied! (They cross swords.) GÉlan.No, no— Attend to me. Within these crystal walls A strange mysterious influence prevails: All men are bound to speak the plainest truth! And this they do, without suspecting it. (To Zoram) When Chrysal spoke the words that angered you He did not mean to speak them. He believed That he was paying you a compliment. (To Chrysal) When Zoram said that he considered you A systematic liar, mean, poor, base, Selfish, and sordid, cruel, tyrannical, ’Twas what he thought—not what he would have said! Chrys. I see—if that was only what he thought It makes a difference. GÉlan.What could he say? He was compelled, you know, to speak the truth. Chrys. Of course, I understand. Zoram, your hand! Zor. With pleasure. (Shaking hands with Chrysal.) Chrysal, I should like to say That I esteem you—but indeed I can’t. My detestation of you knows no bounds. Chrys. How, sir? A fresh affront? Zor.What can I do? I try my best to say agreeable things, But you’re so utterly contemptible! I’d put it more politely, but I can’t! I’m bound against my will to speak the truth! I’d not insult you openly, for worlds— Indeed, it’s only what I think of you! Chrys. If it is only what you think of me, Why say no more; give me your hand again— My knightly honor’s amply satisfied! [They sheathe their swords, then exeunt arm in arm. GÉlan. So dies that breeze away! Oh, honor, honor! Let no one take you at the estimate Your self-elected champions price you at! More harm is worked in that one virtue’s name, Than springs from half the vices of the earth! Enter Queen Altemire, in violent rage. Altem. Why, GÉlanor, this is no spot for you, You’d better go—the King will wish you gone. GÉlan. Indeed! And why? Altem.I’ll tell you, GÉlanor, His majesty has an appointment here. Oh, GÉlanor, I’ve been alone with him This afternoon, and I have learnt such things! Why, even here—despite the castle’s charm, Despite the sacred influence of the place, He prosecutes his infidelities! At first he persecuted Mirza, but Failing to find much favor in her eyes, He looked for other game. Why, GÉlanor, He meets some woman called AzÈma here, At ten o’clock to-night! GÉlan.The deuce he does! Altem. Then I resolved to know the very worst. I locked him in my room and questioned him For full three hours about his married life. Oh, I elicited such fearful things! Why, GÉlanor, there’s not a woman’s name In all the long baptismal catalogue That’s not identified with his intrigues! Tall, short, stout, slender, fair, dark, old and young, High, low, rich, poor, good, bad, maid, widow, wife, Of every country and of every clime! All’s fish that his nets catch! GÉlan.And a king’s net Is very comprehensive. Here she comes! Enter AzÈma. Altem. Is this the woman? Tell me, who are you? AzÈma. I am AzÈma. Altem.And I am the Queen! AzÈma. (bowing). Then, madam, you’re extremely in the way. Altem. How so? AzÈma.I’ve an appointment with the King, Of which you are entirely unaware; But though I’m much annoyed to find you here, I’m glad to find you here with GÉlanor. Altem. And why? AzÈma.If our intrigue should come to light, We can retaliate by giving out That you and GÉlanor are just as bad. Altem. Upon my word! GÉlan.Oh, this is past belief! Altem. Infamous hussy, you shall pay for this! AzÈma. Why, madam, how have I offended you? Altem. How?—you are here to meet the King, alone; At night—by pre-arrangement—in the dark! AzÈma. Oh, madam, this indeed is terrible! That poor AzÈma should be charged with this! It’s true I’ve an appointment with the King, But as you’re not aware of it, your words Are utterly unjustifiable. These flashing eyeballs and this angry blush (At least I hope I’m blushing) represent The noble rage of outraged innocence. I’ll to the King, and let him know at once How, as I wandered through the grove, alone, I found you here with wicked GÉlanor, At night—by pre-arrangement—in the dark. Oh, shame upon you—shame upon you, Queen! [Exit AzÈma—Altemire and GÉlanor stand confounded. GÉlan. Your majesty, I think I’d better go. Altem. Absurd! the notion is preposterous! You’re old enough to be my father. GÉlan.Quite! And wise enough to know that proper folk Will only say “that makes the matter worse!” Altem. But surely here, in this enchanted home, Where all are bound to speak the truth, our word Will guarantee our perfect innocence! GÉlan. Yes, if the King is pleased to take our word; But, as you’ve brought a charge against the King, Analogous to that which will be brought Against ourselves, he may ignore the fact That truth is truth. No, no, upon the whole, I think, your majesty, I’d better go! [Exit GÉlanor. Enter Palmis and Zeolide, Zeolide weeping. Palmis. Nay, do not weep, dear mistress. Zeo.Ah, my friend, What comfort can you offer me? Palmis.I’ve heard That when one is oppressed with weight of woe, Some solace may be found in dwelling on The grief of one more sorely laden still. Zeo. More sorely laden? Where will Zeolide Find one whose misery outweighs her own? Palmis. Your misery, though great, is but a grain When balanced in the scales with mine! Zeo.With yours? Palmis. Yes; Philamir respects you. He esteems Your moral excellence, although no doubt He does not love you as a lover should; But Chrysal always hated me, and sought To gain that love I gave so willingly To hasten his promotion at the Court. Your case and mine are different. Besides, You angered Philamir. I never gave My Chrysal any reason for his hate. Zeo. How did I anger him? Palmis.Your petulance Annoyed him. Zeo.Petulance! He told me that He only liked me! Altem. (coming forward). True, but you forget He was compelled to speak the plainest truth, And knew not that he spoke it. He believed (While he was telling you he loved you not) That he was breathing ardent words of love; Believing this, your reasonable rage Seemed in his eyes irrational caprice, And changed his waning love to sheer dislike. Zeo. Is this the truth then? Altem.Yes, I think it is. The test has been exceedingly severe. Zeo. I’ll wed no man who can not stand this test. Palmis. Then, Zeolide, you’ll surely die a maid! Altem. Come, come, be reasonable. Philamir Is but a man—a vain and idle one, But under this veneer of coxcombry There’s sterling stuff. The man is honest gold, And vanity has silver-plated him. Palmis. At all events, you know he likes you well. How many maidens when they wed a man Have reason to be sure of half as much! Zeo. But then his love for Mirza! Altem.Idle pique! No doubt he hoped—as other lovers hope— In the fierce whirlpool of a new-born love To drown remembrance of the love just dead. Here comes the Lady Mirza! We will go, And leave you with her. Tell her every thing; She is a noble lady—wise and pure! She will not rob you of your Philamir. There—tell her all! Zeo.Forgive me, mother dear, My heart is softened. I have been unjust. [Exeunt Altemire and Palmis. Enter Mirza. Mirza. Oh, Zeolide, I know what you would say. Say on, dear Zeolide, and have no fear. Zeo. Mirza, for three long years we two have been As sisters are, and I would speak to you As younger sister speaks to elder-born. Give me your counsel, Mirza, it will be As pure, as true, as honest as those eyes. Mirza. If counsel such as mine can serve you aught, ’Tis thine, dear Zeolide. My sister, speak. Zeo. With all my soul I love Prince Philamir. A lady—good and beautiful and wise— Unwittingly hath robbed me of my love; She is too pure, too gentle, too divine, To seek a love that rightly is not hers. No, no, this lady hath not sought his love— Of that I’m certain, yet she hath his love! Oh, Mirza, when my Philamir declared His love for me, I cast away the world To enter Paradise. Now, Philamir Has led this lady (all unwillingly) Within its gates, and I am left without— A lonely wanderer ’twixt earth and heaven. Mirza, dear sister, say—what shall I do? Give me thy counsel—I’ll abide by it. Mirza. No need to speak to me in parable. I am that lady whom you over-praise— That most unhappy woman, Zeolide! Despite myself, I must admit the truth, I do love Philamir—shrink not from me. Mine is no idle love. Four years ago, Ere you had ever seen Prince Philamir, I was a lady of his father’s Court. He loved me even then, and I loved him— No need to tell you, dearest Zeolide, The nature of that love; you know too well How women love who love Prince Philamir! We were betrothed, but secretly. Alas! I was a humble waiting lady, he A mighty Prince—so we concealed our love. Then it was rumored that he sought your hand, That policy, the curse of kings, required That he should marry you. Then I fell ill— (Struggling with her emotion) Pass over that. Let it suffice that I Released him—for I loved him passing well! Zeo. (amazed). I never knew of this! Mirza.No, Zeolide, I’ve learnt to bear my sorrow silently. But for the sacred genius of this spot, Whose influence no mortal can resist, My secret would have passed away with me. But I was true to you; for though I saw How coldly you received his vows of love— Zeo. (rising astonished). Coldly! Why, every word he spoke to me Rang through my brain, and would have waked up love Had love been dead! Mirza.I thought you loved him not. But though I grieved for him, yet when he spake (As he at times would speak) of our old love, I checked him with a simulated scorn, For then, dear Zeolide, I loved you both! Zeo. You love me still? Mirza.Most heartily! Zeo.Why, then, Have mercy on me, give me Philamir— He is the soul and essence of my life! Dear sister Mirza, give him back to me. Oh, rather take my life than take my love, And leave me here to linger on, alone! Mirza. Fear not, dear Zeolide, I love him well, But I will never see his face again! Zeo. Promise me this—swear to renounce his love! Mirza. As there’s a shining sun in heaven I swear! See, I am brave, and I will fight my love As I have fought ere this. Take courage, dear, I’ll leave this place to-night, and Philamir Shall ne’er set eyes upon my face again. There, go—I’ll tell him this. He’s coming now— Go dry your eyes—he should not see them so. Come back again when they are at their best. [Exit Zeolide. Enter Philamir. Phil. Mirza—I have some words to say to you— The diary you lost to-day? Mirza. (eagerly).Well, sir, And have you found it? Phil.Mirza, I have found A portion of it—one loose leaf—behold! (Producing page.) Mirza. And you have read it, Philamir? Phil. (guiltily).I have! Mirza. Oh, shame upon you—shame upon you, sir! You gave your knightly word—you are forsworn! Phil. But, Mirza, hear me out, ere you condemn. I saw a paper tossed before the wind, And little dreaming ’twas your diary, I picked it up. I knew not what it was Till I began to read it. Then I knew, And knowing so much, burnt to know still more! Mirza. But when you knew it held my secret thoughts, You read no further? Phil. (abashed).Mirza, I read on! Mirza. Lost! lost! Give me that leaf, Prince Philamir; You have deceived me, sir—I trusted you. Phil. But, Mirza, where is the knight who would have stopped When of himself he read such words as these?— (Reads) “I still love Philamir, but I must strive To battle with my love. Oh, give me grace To fight this fight.” Mirza.I charge you read no more! Phil. “By day his every look—his every word— Renews some mem’ry that should be long dead; By night the phantom of my loved one’s face Burns in my eyes and robs me of my rest!” Mirza. My secret has gone forth. I strove to keep That love as silent as my silent heart; But it was not to be. You now know all! Yet no—not all! Phil.Then, Mirza, tell me all. Speak openly—hide nothing from me now. Mirza. I will speak openly. I love you, sir; And, loving you, I leave the Court to-night, That I may never see your face again. Phil. Recall those words!—we will not—must not part! (He detains her.) Enter Zeolide, unobserved. Mirza. Release me, Philamir, and let me go! I love you! Let me hide myself away. I love you! Leave me with myself alone. I love you! Show me gratitude for this, And leave me free to sanctify my vow, For I have sworn to see your face no more! Phil. To whom have you sworn this? Mirza.To Zeolide, Whom you once loved so well—who still loves you. Phil. I never loved her, Mirza—who is she, That she should come between me and my love? She loves me not, and I have done with her. Mirza. Oh, this will kill her, sir! Zeo.No—Mirza—no! It will not kill me. I can bear this blow. (Coming forward.) Prince Philamir, we two have been betrothed— Your word is plighted—well, I set you free. Mirza, you swore to leave Prince Philamir— Your word is plighted—well, I set you free. (She takes Mirza’s hand and places it in Philamir’s.) Oh, Philamir—this is indeed the end! Be true to her—such sacred love as hers Should purify its object—oh, be true! I’m but a chapter in your book of life, I who had thought to be the book itself! The chapter’s ended, and to Zeolide The book is closed forever! Philamir, When you are tempted to do Mirza wrong, Turn to that chapter—read it through and through— And let the tale of all that I have borne Warn you from fresh inconstancy; my grief May thus be Mirza’s safeguard to the end. Mirza—my sister—he will love you well— Here, in the home of truth, he tells you so. May you be happy in his new-born love, May he be worthy of such love as yours— (To Philamir) Speak not, but let me go. (Kisses Mirza’s forehead.) Farewell—farewell! [Exit Zeolide, weeping—Philamir and Mirza stand for a moment gazing at each other—then they fall into each other’s arms. Phil. Mirza, my own! At last—at last my own! Mirza. Oh, Philamir! I am so cruelly racked By sentiments I can not reconcile, I know not whether this is joy or grief! True, when I think of Philamir, the air Seems charged with music, and the earth I tread All flowers. When I remember Zeolide I could go mad with sorrow! Phil.Then, my love, Think not of Zeolide! Mirza.Ah, Philamir, You speak as men speak of a worn-out love. You only know one kind of love, you men! My love for Zeolide is otherwise, Unselfish, generous, a sister’s love. Yet I have stolen from her gentle heart That which in all the world she loved the best! Phil. You are too sensitive. Say, rather, she Hath freely given that she prizes least. Mirza. Oh, Philamir, indeed you do her wrong, And may perchance wrong me, as you wronged her. Phil. (rising). Impossible! For if the words I breathe Were dashed with any mockery of love, I should against my will, confess it now. Mirza, I love you! These are idle words When spoken in the unenchanted world, But, spoken here, they bear significance That rivals in its worth a life-long test! Let us exchange some trinket which shall serve As evidence of this our solemn troth. Here is my pledge. (Giving a ring.) Mirza.My love, what can I give? I have no trinkets—I am very poor! Phil. A handkerchief—a glove—no matter what! (She feels in pocket and takes out handkerchief—the crystal box falls out with it—he picks it up and retains it.) This crystal box—nay, give it me, ’twill serve To chronicle— Mirza. (hastily).No, no, Prince Philamir! Not that—not that! it is a talisman! Phil. Then I will steal it as I stole your heart, And I will keep it while I keep that heart. Mirza. Give me that box, or I must own the truth— That I am miserably false to all! (Throwing herself at his feet.) That my morality is all assumed! That I am mean, and base, and treacherous! A shameless schemer! heartless—impudent! Give me that box, or I must own that I Abstracted it from Phanor’s cabinet, And substituted one that I possessed Exactly like it. I must own to you That I’m unutterably infamous— A hypocrite—a traitress to my friend— All this, and more, I must admit, if you Retain that talisman! Oh, give it me, And let this locket testify our love! The King! The King! The King! I am undone! [Exit Mirza hastily. Phil. Gone, gone!—and Philamir, who thought he knew The ways of woman well, had still to learn That in one woman’s body there is place For such a goodly show of purity, And such unequalled treachery of heart! Oh, Zeolide, for how much infamy Have I rejected thine unequaled love? Enter Phanor with Chrysal and Zoram. Phan. Congratulate me, I’m half mad with joy; AzÈma comes to tell me that she found The Queen and GÉlanor together here— Alone—at night! Phil.Well, sir, and what of that? Phan. Nothing at all, my boy! Why that’s the joke. Old GÉlanor has dandled Altemire Upon his aged knee five hundred times! Phil. What—lately? Phan.No! I won’t commit myself By telling you how many years ago, But long before her majesty was weaned. Phil. (shrugging his shoulders). I see no reason to condole with you, Because her majesty and GÉlanor Were here together—neither do I see Why should you be congratulated, sir! Phan. You’re very dull! The Queen has just found out That I had an appointment in this grove To meet AzÈma—don’t you understand? I can retort and take indignant ground. What was she doing here with GÉlanor? You’ll see! (Sees box) Hallo! What’s that? Phil.A talisman. It fell from Mirza’s pocket as you came. Phan. The deuce it did! Allow me, this is mine! (Taking it.) Phil. I know: she stole it from your cabinet, She owned as much! Phan.Confound her impudence! Phil. Oh, I have been deceived! Phan.And so have I! Most seriously deceived! Hush, here’s the Queen, And with that gay deceiver, GÉlanor! The talisman has turned up just in time. Enter Altemire and GÉlanor, with AzÈma and Mirza. So, madam, I’ve detected you! Altem. (indignantly).How, sir? Phan. Never mind how—and you too, GÉlanor. Oh, I’m ashamed of you! (Crossing to GÉlanor.) GÉlan.Your majesty, I don’t know what you mean. Phan.You bad old man! (Affecting to weep) You whom I trusted so! (Aside) Don’t be alarmed, I’m not in earnest. (Aloud) Oh, it’s infamous! Why, let me see—how old are you? GÉlan.My lord, If you imply— Phan.Imply! (Aside) Don’t be a fool, I’m not in earnest; I have found the box! (aloud) Explain this conduct! Altem.Sir, this is a joke? Phan. Well, not exactly, madam; you’ve been found Philandering at night with GÉlanor. Being within the influence of these walls, You’re bound to speak the truth. If you can say Your meeting’s innocent, I’m satisfied. Altem. As innocent as truth itself, I swear. Phan. I’m satisfied! Your hand— Altem.Nay, hear me first. I charge you with appointing here to meet AzÈma; you are bound to tell the truth, Being within the influence of these walls. If you can unreservedly deny This charge, I also shall be satisfied. Phan. Emphatically I deny the charge! Altem. (astounded). You do? Phan.I do! (Piously) This is the Home of Truth, And all are subject to its influence. Altem. (puzzled). But you admitted it when you confessed Your gallantries to me this afternoon! Phan. Oh, you’ve been dreaming! Altem.Do I understand That you deny that you confessed all this? Phan. Distinctly! (Piously) This is the Abode of Truth. Altem. I have been dreaming! Phanor, there’s my hand— I’ve deeply wronged you. Phan.Altemire, you have! But say no more—we are good friends again. Altem. Then you forgive me? Phan.Heartily I do! Altem. I’ll never be a jealous fool again. Phan. I’m very glad indeed to hear you say so! Enter Zeolide—Altemire retires with GÉlanor, and converses with Zeolide—Philamir, seeing Zeolide, comes down abashed. Phan. (to Philamir). Well, and what’s wrong with you? Phil.I’ve been a fool, A madman, and a true-born idiot! Phan. By the mysterious influence of this place, I can believe it! Phil.I have given up The noblest woman that I ever knew, For that abominable cockatrice Who quitted me as you arrived. Phan.Well! well! You may regain her yet. Phil.Impossible! Phan. Oh, not at all! there—take this talisman. (Zeolide overhears this speech.) With this you’re proof against the influence That rules this place; you can declare to her That you adore the very ground she walks, And wallow in the foolish flummery That used to make you so ridiculous. She will believe it all—there, take it, boy, And make good use of it to win her back. Phil. I’ll use it, Phanor, and I’ll use it well! Zeo. (aside) He takes the box. And thus he thinks to win The hand of his forsaken Zeolide! Oh, Philamir, this is contemptible. I think I could have loved you, but for this! Phil. Dear Zeolide, I hold a talisman, Enabling me to counteract the charm That reigns within these walls. With this in hand I can tell truth or falsehood as I please, And you must needs believe me. Zeolide, I’ve learned to set a value on your love Transcending all the riches of the earth; Yet would I rather live without that love— A life of self-reproach without that love— Repentant and alone without that love— Than stoop to gain it by such treachery. Here is the talisman. (Zeolide takes it.) No longer armed Against the sacred influence of Truth, I tell you of my sorrow and my love With all the warmth of a repentant heart! (He presses Zeolide to his heart and kisses her.) Altem. (indignantly). Give me that talisman! (Takes it) I have a clew To much that was a mystery: Behold! (She breaks it—a loud crash—all come forward.) Enter AristÆus. GÉlan. You know not what you’ve done! The castle’s charm Is bound up with that mystic talisman! Now that the box is broken, these fair walls Are disenchanted! Phan.P’raps it’s quite as well. Now that the place has lost its influence We shall get on much better. We have learnt A lesson that should last us till we die— We’ve learnt how matrimonial constancy By causeless jealousy is sometimes tried— (Looking reproachfully at Altemire.) Altem. How jealousy is sometimes justified— (Looking reproachfully at Phanor.) Chrys. How Zoram—music’s vaunted pioneer— Don’t even know his notes—and has no ear! Even his cant expressions are the wrong ones! Zor. I have an ear! Phan. (shaking his hand).You have—two very long ones! Palmis. You’ve learnt to doubt the love that those profess, Who by such love gain temporal success— (Looking angrily at Chrysal.) Zor. That surly misanthropes, with venom tainted— Arist. Are often not as black as they are painted! AzÈma. To doubt all maids who of their virtue boast: That they’re the worst who moralize the most! (Looking at Mirza.) Mirza. That blushes, though they’re most becoming, yet Proclaim, too oft, the commonplace coquette! (Looking at AzÈma.) I can declare, with pardonable pride, I never blush! AzÈma.You couldn’t if you tried! Phil. Under the influence that lately reigned Within these walls I breathed my love unfeigned; Now that that power no longer reigns above, I ratify the accents of my love. Forgive me, Zeolide, my life, my bride! Zeo. (very demurely). I love you, Philamir—be satisfied! |
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