Locrine - A Tragedy [21]
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Craves of the woman that thou knowest I am
Peace? Ay, take hands at parting, and release
Each heart, each hand, each other: shall the lamb,
The lamb-like woman, born to cower and bleed,
Withstand his will whose choice may save or damn
Her days and nights, her word and thought and deed -
Take heart to outdare her lord the lion? How
Should this be--if the lion's imperial seed
Life not against his sire as brave a brow
As frowns upon his mother?--Peace be then
Between us: none may stand before thee now:
No son of thine keep faith with Guendolen.
MADAN.
I have held my peace perforce, it seems, too long,
Being slower of speech than sons of meaner men.
But seeing my sire hath done my mother wrong,
My hand is hers to serve against my sire.
GUENDOLEN.
And God shall make thine hand against him strong.
LOCRINE.
Ay: when the hearthstead flames, the roof takes fire.
GUENDOLEN.
Woe worth his hand who set the hearth on flame!
LOCRINE.
Curse not our fathers; though thy fierce desire
Drive thine own son against his father, shame
Should rein thy tongue from speech too shameless.
GUENDOLEN.
Ay!
And thou, my holy-hearted lord,--the same
Whose hand was laid in mine and bound to lie
There fast for ever if faith be found on earth -
If truth be true, and shame not wholly die -
Hast thou not made thy mockery and thy mirth,
Thy laughter and thy scorn, of shame? But we,
Thy wife by wedlock, and thy son by birth,
Who have no part in spirit and soul with thee,
Will bear no part in kingdom nor in life
With one who hath put to shame his child and me.
Thy true-born son, and I that was thy wife,
Will see thee dead or perish. Call thy men
About thee; bid them gird their loins for strife
More dire than theirs who storm the wild wolf's den;
For if thou dare not slay us here today
Thou art dead.
LOCRINE.
Thou knowest I dare not, Guendolen,
Dare what the ravenous beasts whose life is prey
Dream not of doing, though drunk with bloodshed.
GUENDOLEN.
No:
Thou art gentle, and beasts are honest: no such way
Lies open toward thy fearful foot: not so
Shalt thou find surety from these foes of thine.
Woe worth thee therefore! yea, a sevenfold woe
Shall God through us rain down on thee, Locrine.
Hadst thou the heart God hath not given thee--then
Our blood might run before thy feet like wine
And wash thy way toward sin in sight of men
Smooth, soft, and safe. But if thou shed it not -
If Madan live to look on Guendolen
Living--I wot not what shall be--I wot
What shall not--thou shalt have no joy to live
More than have they for whom God's wrath grows hot.
LOCRINE.
God's grace is no such gift as thou canst give,
Queen, or withhold. Farewell.
GUENDOLEN.
I dare not say
Farewell.
LOCRINE.
And why?
GUENDOLEN.
Thou hast not said--Forgive.
LOCRINE.
I say it--I have said. Thou wilt not hear me?
GUENDOLEN.
Nay.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
SCENE I.--Fields near the Severn.
Enter on one side LOCRINE and his army: on the other side
GUENDOLEN, MADAN, and their army.
LOCRINE.
Stand fast, and sound a parley.
MADAN.
Halt: it seems
They would have rather speech than strokes of us.
LOCRINE.
This light of dawn is like an evil dream's
That comes and goes and is not. Yea, and thus
Our hope on both sides wavering dares allow
No light but fire to bid us die or live.
- Son, and my wife that was, my rebels now,
That here we stand with death to take or give
I call the sun of heaven, God's likeness wrought
On darkness, whence all spirits breathe and shine,
To witness, is no work of will or thought
Conceived or bred in brain or heart of mine.
Ye have levied wars against me, and compelled
My will unwilling and my power withheld
To strike the stroke I would not, when I might.
Will ye not yet take thought, and spare these men
Whom else the blind and burning fire of fight
Must feed upon for pasture? Guendolen,
Had I not left thee queen in Troynovant,
Though wife no more of mine, in all this land
No hand
Craves of the woman that thou knowest I am
Peace? Ay, take hands at parting, and release
Each heart, each hand, each other: shall the lamb,
The lamb-like woman, born to cower and bleed,
Withstand his will whose choice may save or damn
Her days and nights, her word and thought and deed -
Take heart to outdare her lord the lion? How
Should this be--if the lion's imperial seed
Life not against his sire as brave a brow
As frowns upon his mother?--Peace be then
Between us: none may stand before thee now:
No son of thine keep faith with Guendolen.
MADAN.
I have held my peace perforce, it seems, too long,
Being slower of speech than sons of meaner men.
But seeing my sire hath done my mother wrong,
My hand is hers to serve against my sire.
GUENDOLEN.
And God shall make thine hand against him strong.
LOCRINE.
Ay: when the hearthstead flames, the roof takes fire.
GUENDOLEN.
Woe worth his hand who set the hearth on flame!
LOCRINE.
Curse not our fathers; though thy fierce desire
Drive thine own son against his father, shame
Should rein thy tongue from speech too shameless.
GUENDOLEN.
Ay!
And thou, my holy-hearted lord,--the same
Whose hand was laid in mine and bound to lie
There fast for ever if faith be found on earth -
If truth be true, and shame not wholly die -
Hast thou not made thy mockery and thy mirth,
Thy laughter and thy scorn, of shame? But we,
Thy wife by wedlock, and thy son by birth,
Who have no part in spirit and soul with thee,
Will bear no part in kingdom nor in life
With one who hath put to shame his child and me.
Thy true-born son, and I that was thy wife,
Will see thee dead or perish. Call thy men
About thee; bid them gird their loins for strife
More dire than theirs who storm the wild wolf's den;
For if thou dare not slay us here today
Thou art dead.
LOCRINE.
Thou knowest I dare not, Guendolen,
Dare what the ravenous beasts whose life is prey
Dream not of doing, though drunk with bloodshed.
GUENDOLEN.
No:
Thou art gentle, and beasts are honest: no such way
Lies open toward thy fearful foot: not so
Shalt thou find surety from these foes of thine.
Woe worth thee therefore! yea, a sevenfold woe
Shall God through us rain down on thee, Locrine.
Hadst thou the heart God hath not given thee--then
Our blood might run before thy feet like wine
And wash thy way toward sin in sight of men
Smooth, soft, and safe. But if thou shed it not -
If Madan live to look on Guendolen
Living--I wot not what shall be--I wot
What shall not--thou shalt have no joy to live
More than have they for whom God's wrath grows hot.
LOCRINE.
God's grace is no such gift as thou canst give,
Queen, or withhold. Farewell.
GUENDOLEN.
I dare not say
Farewell.
LOCRINE.
And why?
GUENDOLEN.
Thou hast not said--Forgive.
LOCRINE.
I say it--I have said. Thou wilt not hear me?
GUENDOLEN.
Nay.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
SCENE I.--Fields near the Severn.
Enter on one side LOCRINE and his army: on the other side
GUENDOLEN, MADAN, and their army.
LOCRINE.
Stand fast, and sound a parley.
MADAN.
Halt: it seems
They would have rather speech than strokes of us.
LOCRINE.
This light of dawn is like an evil dream's
That comes and goes and is not. Yea, and thus
Our hope on both sides wavering dares allow
No light but fire to bid us die or live.
- Son, and my wife that was, my rebels now,
That here we stand with death to take or give
I call the sun of heaven, God's likeness wrought
On darkness, whence all spirits breathe and shine,
To witness, is no work of will or thought
Conceived or bred in brain or heart of mine.
Ye have levied wars against me, and compelled
My will unwilling and my power withheld
To strike the stroke I would not, when I might.
Will ye not yet take thought, and spare these men
Whom else the blind and burning fire of fight
Must feed upon for pasture? Guendolen,
Had I not left thee queen in Troynovant,
Though wife no more of mine, in all this land
No hand