  Micaiah. Madam, the soldiers have brought the farmer, Naboth; they have him in the guard-room, waiting for your orders. Jezebel. Were you set upon as you brought him through the city? Micaiah. No, Madam, but a crowd followed, which is now at the palace gates. Jezebel. Is it threatening? Micaiah. No, Madam, but uneasy. Jezebel. Thank you, Micaiah. What standing has this Naboth? Micaiah. He lives in the city, but has this vineyard and some other ground outside the walls. He is a small farmer, strict in religion. Nothing but religion will move him. Jezebel. I will try whether that be true. Go now, without, and bring me Ashobal and Pharmas. Micaiah. I will, Madam. [Exit. Jezebel. If I can persuade this man to sell his land, then this gathering will lose all purpose. If he will not sell, as I doubt he will not, then, how then? Micaiah, Pharmas, Ashobal enter. Stand where you are and pay especial heed To what is said by us. The Men. We will, great Queen. Jezebel. I thank you. Will you bring the man, Micaiah? Enter Micaiah, with Naboth, crowned as for a feast. Micaiah. Madam, your servant waits for your commands. Jezebel. Thank you, Micaiah. Keep in presence here. You are that Naboth of the South-west Precinct? (Naboth nods.) Our calling of you here may come untimely. You are at feast, or going to a feast? Naboth. I’m here; you’ve caught me; do the worst you can, But do not mock me. Jezebel. I mock no one, Naboth. About the purchase of your vineyard near The city wall. Naboth. Why do you want my vineyard, tell me that? Jezebel. I do not want it. Naboth. Well, your husband does. Jezebel. He does not, Naboth. Listen, all of you. There is a false suspicion spread abroad That we, the King and Queen, have coveted This land of Naboth’s. It is wholly false. We do not want it, never wanted it, But bid for it, on public grounds, because Lord Jehu, captain of the bodyguard, The overseer of the town’s defences, Urged, and still urges, that the vineyard be Brought in within the city wall. As King, The King made offer for the land, through one ... Which of you was it? Ashobal. I made the offer for His Majesty, So please you, Madam. Jezebel. Since it is not your rulers but your city The giving up your holding to be walled. Naboth. God pleased to put my vineyard where it is, Why should you change it? Micaiah. In the siege, good Naboth, The Syrian archers used to shoot from it Into the city. Naboth. And they might again Soon in another siege? Jezebel. So Jehu thought. Naboth. If you idolaters had done God’s will And killed these Syrians when God bade you kill, You would have had no other siege to dread. Ashobal. You must not speak this evil of your rulers. Say nothing but as touching on the treaty. Jezebel. Whether your land should be enclosed or no I cannot tell: Duke Jehu says it should be; Says that for public good it should be walled. You would not sorrow that your land should go Naboth. I would. Jezebel. I do not think you would, good sir; Yet, if a war should follow and a siege Threaten again, your vineyard would be taken Maugre your will, and walled in spite of you By public means; and you would lose it, so. Naboth. I would not lose it. It would still be mine. Jezebel. I cannot well see how; but let that be. I ask you now to be content to treat For this your plot. May we proceed in this? Naboth. Dismiss your gang of killers here, these three Lying in wait upon a poor man’s words. Jezebel. These are no killers, but my palace servants. We are in treaty for exchange of land, Or hope to be, and civil law prescribes That sales of land be bargained before witness. Naboth. Where are my witnesses, to speak for me? Jezebel. Well thought of, Naboth. Will you therefore send Naboth. No, I will not. Jezebel. Why not? Naboth. No matter why. You have caught me, but catch my friends yourself If you do want them. Jezebel. Will you choose three men Here in the palace, then, as witnesses? Naboth. I have a witness, stronger than your three, Already present, woman of false gods. Ashobal. Do not misname the person of your Queen. You will lose all by rudeness. You have heard That our great Queen demands to bargain with you, But means no harm to you, nor to your friends. Jezebel. Thank you, Ashobal. (Then to Naboth) May we now proceed? Naboth. I have not yet agreed to treat with you. Jezebel. You waste our time. Speak. Will you treat or not? Naboth. Before I treat, what do you offer for it? Jezebel. What is its yearly value? Ashobal. Seven casks. Micaiah. Madam, that may have been the yearly yield In its best seasons, but it is not now. It is no vineyard now, great Queen; the vines Were routed up by Syrians in the siege. Jezebel. So? Did you know of this, Ashobal? Ashobal. No. Jezebel. Not know of it? Ashobal. Not when I bargained for it. Jezebel. Yet knew it now, and never mentioned it? Would let me bargain for a vineless vineyard As though it gave full vintage. Ashobal. O good Madam, You asked its yearly value, not its worth. Jezebel. That shall be proved. Naboth, I did not know That this your vineyard had been rooted up. Naboth. That damned idolater, your husband, knew it. He said that as it was not now a vineyard, He could plant herbs there. Jezebel. Bridle you your tongue. When did His Majesty the King say this? To whom? Naboth. It is well known he said it openly. Jezebel. To you? Naboth. No. Jezebel. Then to whom? To one of these? You are all silent. Yet the King has seen No other man, since his return to Shemer, Except Prince Joram; therefore what you say Is false in fact, seditious being said. Ashobal, what was offered for the vineyard? Ashobal. A better vineyard; then, that being refused, Three vineyards, each one better, in full bearing, Two of red grapes and one of white, O Queen. Jezebel. And he refused? Micaiah. He did. Jezebel (to Naboth). And do you still? Naboth. Yes. Jezebel. Why? Naboth. Because the vineyards that he offered Aren’t his to offer. Jezebel. But they are, good Naboth. They are the King’s. Naboth. Does the King work them, then? Jezebel. Yes, they are worked at his command. How else? Naboth. His sweat does not fall on them. Jezebel. It has done so. He with his own hands worked those vineyards, Naboth, Before his father, Omri, became King, As you well know. Naboth. I’ll have no slave-tilled vineyard. Jezebel. Men cannot live without the work of others; You yourself do not. Did you make that robe, Those shoes, that pouch? But we are wandering. Let me, the Queen, make offer for your vineyards. I offer the King’s vineyards as before, And with them, the three marrowy olive-groves Which Shemer planted. Naboth. Shemer! And what more? Micaiah. What more? Ashobal. Good heaven, you surely ask no more? Naboth. I do. It’s not enough. Jezebel. Then name your price. Naboth. I cannot be buyer and seller both. Jezebel. Then I will offer these: a bale of scarlet, A camel-load of wool, woven or raw, Three tent-rugs such as desert tribesmen weave, Three desert-cushions made of coloured leather, And one sealed roll of linen from the Nile, The deckings of a house, in fact. With these, Something to gladden dwellers in the house, A score of honey, and a man-sized jar Of olive oil, a measure of fine flour, A pack of dates and seven porters’ loads Of matured wine; the feastings of a house. With these, I offer treasures for your house: Gums from Arabia to burn as perfumes, A tusk of ivory two cubits long, A bar of silver from the mines of Bakht, A casket made of turkis filled with beryl, A piece of gold, the size of a man’s hand. Naboth. I want no ivory nor gold nor scarlet, Nor silver bars nor trash nor vanity. Micaiah. Good Madam, might it not be wise to offer Stock for his farm? Jezebel. Take horses, then, or oxen To till your holding. Naboth. I will not take them, then. Micaiah. Would you not like them? Naboth. No; I do without; I need nor horse nor ass, nor cow nor camel. Jezebel. What can I offer? Naboth. Sacrifice to the God of Israel. Jezebel. I do not offer that. Naboth. You are not one To search unto the spirit, nor be single Within your heart. You are possessed by things; Dead things, with stink and colour, brought in ships; Your purples and the jewels for your hair, Your ivory room, God save us! you being mortal, Dwelling in ivory, while God himself Lives in the wooden room darkened by wings. Micaiah. Yes, Naboth; but reserve this for the feast, Where those who hear it will enjoy it more Than we do here. Naboth. I do not speak to you. Jezebel. No, Naboth, you are speaking to your Queen, Who bids you to be silent, if you care To keep whole bones. Come from him, then, Micaiah. Hear a last offer, Naboth; you are old, Soon to become infirm, soon to bear pain. And find it weariness to cross the room. Might I not set provision for old age Against your vineyard? Might I settle on you A pension that would bring you quietness And what age loves, respect and ease and state; Might we not give you rank, as Elder, say, With pay and servants fitting to the rank; These things to be assured to you for life, And after, to your son? Naboth. I have no son. My son was killed while fighting for King Ahab In this last war. I will not sell my vineyard For all the rank, for all the slaves and ease In this realm that you make the gate of hell. God blot me from the record of the blest If I commit into polluted hands, Red with the blood of offerings to false gods, The earth my father worked and worshipped in. It is my vineyard and it shall be mine, By God’s red hand the King should be ashamed; You too would be ashamed were you not shameless, To tempt a poor man’s soul with merchandise; You, smeared with spice, painted, and dripping perfume, A shameless woman, chaffering with a man, And he, the King, a dallier with God’s foes, Conspiring thus to cheat me of my vineyard. God puts a word into my mouth to say, He makes my mouth to spit upon you both. There is for you. And there is for the King. I spit upon you both and bid God curse you, Curse you to ruin and to rottenness. As here I curse you; him for making peace, Where no peace is, and you, you insolent woman, For being, like the King, a curse on Israel, A bringer down into the pit of hell. Micaiah. You shall avoid the presence when you curse. [Exit with Naboth. Jezebel. You heard the curses of this frantic man? Ashobal and Pharmas. Madam, we did. We longed to silence him. Jezebel. Rechab is captain of the guard to-day? Pharmas. Yes, Madam. Ashobal. Rechab, with the Jezreel troop, Mounts guard till night. Jezebel. That will be well, Ashobal. You know the ivory room that the King made? You know that it was never planned nor used For anything, save as an inmost shrine For worshipping of God? Pharmas and Ashobal. We know it, Madam. Jezebel. Here is Micaiah back. Has Naboth gone? Micaiah. Yes, Madam, to the rabble of his friends Waiting his coming at the palace gate. Now they are taking him triumphantly Up to the feast, shouting, “He held his own Against the royal tyrants.” At the feast, When they have drunken, they will speak worse evil. Jezebel. You all remember what he uttered here? How he misused the name of God, and cursed The King and me? Micaiah, Ashobal, and Pharmas (together). We do remember. Jezebel. Wait, then, some minutes, till the feast be set, Then summon up the chapter of the priests, And Rechab with his troop of bodyguard. Then march with priests and soldiers to the banquet. Let the priests call for silence from the throng, And in the silence do you three stand forth, Bear witness against Naboth in these terms: “Thou didst blaspheme God and the King!” repeat The words he uttered, bear each other witness; And if a further witness be required, Say I, the Queen, will come to testify, Who heard the words, yet spared the speaker of them, So that the priests, whose cause it is, might judge. Then call upon the priests to utter judgment According to the laws of blasphemy. Micaiah, Pharmas, and Ashobal. We will obey your orders instantly. [They go out. Jezebel. Which brings the greater woe; to pass an evil, Or break your Being’s law to combat it? The allotted sorrow ever has a gateway. Curtain. THIRD CHORUSRose-Flower. Nireus sailed; and a strange wind blew him to islands unseen before, Where the gods sat throned on the crags with peace on their marvellous faces, Clouds and the smoke of fire, that glittered and changed, they wore! And unto them came the crying of all man’s sorrowful races. Moon-Blossom. They cried to him as he passed, “You are seeking and you shall find, Not in the way you hope, not in the way foreseen; Out of horror of soul, ache, and anguish of mind, Out of the desert of all, shall come the leaf that is green.” Rose-Flower. Then the wind blew on to an island where millet is ever in ear, And the horses that live in the sea come thronging in thousands to eat, And the horses that live on the island will never let them come near, Moon-Blossom. Then he sailed by invisible islands, he smelt the fruit on the trees, And heard the noise in the shipyards and the crowing of cocks unseen, Then sheered from the roar of breakers and on over unknown seas, And ever he grieved for Paris, and thought of the beautiful Queen. Rose-Flower. Then he came to a sea of terror, where monsters rose from the sea, Things with the beaks of birds and arms like the suckers of vines: Things like ghosts in the water coming motionlessly To tatter the flesh of men with teeth like the cactus-spines. Moon-Blossom. Over unending water ever he held his course, Birds that were curses followed, crying around and above: “Nireus, broken by beauty, broken again by remorse, Rose-Flower. And ever he cursed himself for bringing them both to wreck, Helen and Paris, the lovely; and ever the waves seemed filled With skull-bones hollow in death, that rose and peered on the deck: And he thought, “They are those from Troy whom I in my madness killed. Moon-Blossom. “Had I refused, when they asked for my help to escape, Paris would still be alive, Troy, the city, would stand, And all the killed of the war would be tilling the corn and the grape, Not ghosts with a curse in the air and torn bones strewing the land.” Rose-Flower. So he sailed; but at night in the dark when the lantern bubbled aloft, And men lay sleeping, when all save he were asleep, And the ship slid on with a gurgle of water soft, Moon-Blossom. Out of the long-backed roller that slid from its crest of foam, Gibbered the bloodless dead, white faces with haggard eyes, Pointing the bones of their hands at him who had forced them from home, Their curses came to his ears like little twittering cries. Together. Whenever he moored at an island for water or food or rest, Soon those wraiths of the dead would rise and bid him begone, To harry the resting gannet out of the roller’s crest, And carry the curse of his soul to the unknown, on and on. FOURTH CHORUSMoon-Blossom. In the grey of morning When the stars were paling, Nireus sailing, Saw land ahead. An island shining Where bells were ringing And men singing. Rose-Flower. As Nireus stepped ashore there He stood staring, For all men there Were the dead of the war: The Greeks and Trojans, Beautiful and swift, Killed in the trampled tamarisks Beneath Troy town. Moon-Blossom. Stars were in their hair, Their brows were crowned with violets, They stepped like stags, Comrade with comrade. They had forgotten The mud and death, The heat and flies Of the plain of Troy. Rose-Flower. There among them Came a prince in scarlet, With his hands stretched In welcoming. It was Paris, his friend, In the midnight raid Beneath Troy wall. Moon-Blossom. Paris cried, “Nireus, my comrade, Nireus, my belovÈd, My friend of old! Here we have forgiven What my young man’s folly bred, We feast as friends In the violet fields.” Rose-Flower. Then he led Nireus To the hall of feasting. There they feasted In the violet fields. Three summer days and nights, It seemed, they feasted, Each summer day and night Was ten years long. Together. Paris and the heroes Cried to Nireus, “We loved Helen, When we were men. Now we love her still Old, and haunted By her lovers dead. “Take to Helen Gifts from her lovers, In her old age find her And give her these: Beauty and peace And our forgiveness, And all our thanks For what she was.” Moon-Blossom. As they ceased speaking They faded from him, The island faded, Nireus was at sea. He and his men Were all grown old, Thirty years Had fallen on them. Together. As old men failing They came to Sparta; All unavailing Their coming was. Helen was gone To search for peace Or to find release. Over the seas In lands and islands Nireus sought her, But could not find. For the gods retire When men desire, Though it burn like fire And make men blind. |
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