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ORIGINAL PLAYS

BY

W. S. GILBERT.

New York:
SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, & CO.
1876.

Stereotyped and printed by
Rand, Avery, and Company,
117 Franklin Street,
Boston.

[NOTE.]

The Story upon which ‘The Palace of Truth’ is founded is probably as old as the ‘Arabian Nights.’ ‘The Princess’ is a respectful parody of Mr. Tennyson’s exquisite poem. It has been generally held, I believe, that if a dramatist uses the mere outline of an existing story for dramatic purposes, he is at liberty to describe his play as “original.”

W. S. GILBERT.

London, Nov. 18, 1875.

[CONTENTS.]

THE WICKED WORLD:

An Original Fairy Comedy,

IN THREE ACTS.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

SCENE: IN FAIRY LAND.

⁂ The action is comprised within the space of twenty-four hours.

PROLOGUE.

Spoken by Mr. Buckstone.

The Author begs you’ll kind attention pay

While I explain the object of his play.

You have been taught, no doubt, by those professing

To understand the thing, that Love’s a blessing:

Well, he intends to teach you the reverse—

That Love is not a blessing, but a curse!

But pray do not suppose it’s his intent

To do without this vital element—

His drama would be in a pretty mess!

With quite as fair a prospect of success,

Might a dispensing chemist in his den

Endeavor to dispense with oxygen.

Too powerful an agent to pooh-pooh,

There will be Love enough I warrant you:

But as the aim of every play’s to show

That Love’s essential to all men below,

He uses it to prove, to all who doubt it,

How well all men—but he—can do without it.

To prove his case (a poor one, I admit),

He begs that with him you will kindly flit

To a pure fairy-land that’s all his own,

Where mortal love is utterly unknown.

Whose beings, spotless as new-fallen snow,

Know nothing of the Wicked World below.

These gentle sons and daughters of the air,

Safe, in their eyrie, from temptation’s snare,

Have yet one little fault I must confess—

An overweening sense of righteousness.

As perfect silence, undisturbed for years,

Will breed at length a humming in the ears,

So from their very purity within

Arise the promptings of their only sin.

Forgive them! No? Perhaps you will relent

When you appreciate their punishment!

But prithee be not led too far away,

By the hack author of a mere stage-play:

It’s easy to affect this cynic tone,

But, let me ask you, had the world ne’er known

Such Love as you, and I, and he, must mean—

Pray where would you, or I, or he, have been?

THE WICKED WORLD.

ACT I.

Scene—Fairy Land. A beautiful, but fanciful landscape, which is supposed to lie on the upper side of a cloud. The cloud is suspended over the earth, a portion of which (representing “a bird’s-eye view” of a mediæval city), is seen, far below, through a rent or gap in the cloud.

As the curtain rises Zayda is discovered standing in a thoughtful attitude, contemplating the world at her feet. To her enters Darine.

Dar. My sister, Zayda, thou art deep in thought,

What quaint conjecture fills thy busy brain?

Zay. Oh! sister, it’s my old and favorite theme—

That wonderful and very wicked world

That rolls in silent cycles at our feet!

Dar. In truth a fruitful source of wonderment!

Zay. Fruitful indeed—a harvest without end!

The world—the wicked world! the wondrous world!

I love to sit alone and gaze on it,

And let my fancy wander through its towns,

Float on its seas and rivers—interchange

Communion with its strange inhabitants:

People its cities with fantastic shapes,

Fierce, wild, barbaric forms—all head and tail,

With monstrous horns, and blear and bloodshot eyes,

As all should have who deal in wickedness!

Enter Phyllon.

Oh, Phyllon! picture to thyself a town

Peopled with men and women! At each turn,

Men—wicked men—then, farther on, more men,

Then women—then again more men—more men—

Men, women, everywhere—all ripe for crime,

All ghastly in the lurid light of sin!

Enter Selene.

Phyl. In truth, dear sister, if man’s face and form

Were a true index to his character,

He were a hideous thing to look upon;

But man, alas! is formed as we are formed.

False from the first, he comes into the world

Bearing a smiling lie upon his face,

That he may cheat ere he can use his tongue.

Zay. Oh! I have heard these things, but heed them not.

I like to picture him as he should be,

Unsightly and unclean. I like to pair

Misshapen bodies with misshapen minds.

Sel. Dost thou not know that every soul on earth

Hath in our ranks his outward counterpart?

Dar. His outward counterpart!

Sel.Tis even so;

Yes, on that world—that very wicked world—

Thou—I—and all who dwell in fairy land,

May find a parallel identity:

A perfect counterpart in outward form;

So perfect that, if it were possible

To place us by these earthly counterparts,

No man on earth, no fairy in the clouds,

Could tell which was the fairy—which the man!

Zay. Is there no shade of difference?

Phyl.Yes, one;

For we are absolutely free from sin,

While all our representatives on earth

Are stained with every kind of infamy.

Dar. Are all our counterparts so steeped in sin?

Phyl. All, in a greater or a less degree.

Zay. What, even mine?

Phyl.Alas!

Zay.Oh, no—not mine!

Phyl. All men and women sin.

Dar.I wonder what

My counterpart is doing now?

Sel.Don’t ask.

No doubt, some fearful sin!

Dar.And what are sins?

Sel. Evils of which we hardly know the names.

There’s vanity—a quaint, fantastic vice,

Whereby a mortal takes much credit for

The beauty of his face and form, and claims

As much applause for loveliness as though

He had designed himself! Then jealousy—

A universal passion—one that claims

An absolute monopoly of love,

Based on the reasonable principle

That no one merits other people’s love

So much as—every soul on earth by turns!

Envy—that grieves at other men’s success,

As though success, however placed, were not

A contribution to one common fund!

Ambition, too, the vice of clever men

Who seek to rise at others’ cost; nor heed

Whose wings they cripple, so that they may soar.

Malice—the helpless vice of helpless fools,

Who, as they can not rise, hold others down,

That they, by contrast, may appear to soar.

Hatred and avarice, untruthfulness,

Murder and rapine, theft, profanity—

Sins so incredible, so mean, so vast,

Our nature stands appalled when it attempts

To grasp their terrible significance.

Such are the vices of that wicked world!

Enter Ethais, Locrine, Neodie, Leila, and other Fairies.

Eth. My brothers, sisters, Lutin has returned,

After a long delay, from yonder earth:

The first of all our race who has set foot

Upon that wicked world. See! he is here!

Enter Lutin.

Sel. Good welcome, Lutin, back to fairy land!

So thou hast been to earth?

Lut.I have indeed!

Sel. What hast thou seen there?

Lut. Better not inquire.

It is a very, very wicked world!

I went, obedient to our King’s command,

To meet him in mid-earth. He bade me go

And send both Ethais and Phyllon there.

Eth. Down to mid-earth?

Lut.Down to mid-earth at once.

He hath some gift, some priceless privilege

With which he would endow our fairy world;

And he hath chosen Phyllon and thyself

To bear his bounty to this home of ours.

Zay. Another boon? Why, brother Ethais,

What can our monarch give that we have not?

Eth. In truth, I can not say—’twould seem that we

Had reached the sum of fairy happiness!

Sel. But then we thought the same, before our King

Endowed us with the gift of melody;

And now, how tame our fairy life would seem

Were melody to perish from our land!

Phyl. Well said, Selene. Come, then, let’s away, (going)

And on our journey through the outer world

We will take note of its inhabitants,

And bring you fair account of all we see.

Farewell, dear sisters!

[Exeunt Phyllon and Ethais.

Sel.Brothers, fare-you-well.

(To Lutin.)And thou hast really met a living man?

Lut. I have indeed—and living women too!

Zay. And thou hast heard them speak, and seen their ways,

And didst thou understand them when they spake?

Lut. I understand that what I understood

No fairy being ought to understand.

I see that almost every thing I saw

Is utterly improper to be seen.

Don’t ask for details—I’ve returned to you

With outraged senses and with shattered nerves,

I burn with blushes of indignant shame.

Read my experiences in my face,

My tongue shall wither ere it tell the tale.

It is a very, very wicked world!

Dar. But surely man can summon death at will;

Why should he live when he at will can die?

Lut. Why, that’s the most inexplicable thing.

I’ve seen upon that inconsistent globe—

With swords and daggers hanging at their sides,

With drowning seas and rivers at their feet,

With deadly poison in their very grasp,

And every implement of death at hand—

Men live—and live—and seem to like to live!

[Exit Lutin.

Dar. How strangely inconsistent!

Sel.Not at all.

With all their misery, with all their sin,

With all the elements of wretchedness

That teem on that unholy world of theirs,

They have one great and ever glorious gift,

That compensates for all they have to bear—

The gift of Love! Not as we use the word,

To signify mere tranquil brotherhood;

But in some sense that is unknown to us.

Their love bears like relation to our own,

That the fierce beauty of the noonday sun

Bears to the calm of a soft summer’s eve.

It nerves the wearied mortal with hot life,

And bathes his soul in hazy happiness.

The richest man is poor who hath it not,

And he who hath it laughs at poverty.

It hath no conqueror. When death himself

Has worked his very worst, this love of theirs

Lives still upon the loved one’s memory.

It is a strange enchantment, which invests

The most unlovely things with loveliness.

The maiden, fascinated by this spell,

Sees every thing as she would have it be:

Her squalid cot becomes a princely home;

Its stunted shrubs are groves of stately elms;

The weedy brook that trickles past her door

Is a broad river fringed with drooping trees;

And of all marvels the most marvelous,

The coarse unholy man who rules her love

Is a bright being—pure as we are pure;

Wise in his folly—blameless in his sin;

The incarnation of a perfect soul;

A great and ever glorious demi-god!

Dar. Why, what have we in all our fairy land

To bear comparison with such a gift?

Zay. Oh! for one hour of such a love as that;

O’er all things paramount! Why, after all,

That wicked world is the true fairy land!

Loc. Why, who can wonder that poor erring man

Clings to the world, all poisoned though it be,

When on it grows this glorious antidote?

Zay. And may we never love as mortals love?

Sel. No; that can never be. Of earthly things

This love of theirs ranks as the earthiest.

’Tis necessary to man’s mode of life;

He could not bear his load of misery

But for the sweet enchantment at his heart

That tells him that he bears no load at all.

We do not need it in our perfect land.

Moreover, there’s this gulf ’twixt it and us:

Only a mortal can inspire such love;

And mortal foot can never touch our land.

Zay. But—is that so?

Sel. (surprised).Of course.

Zay.Yet I have heard

That we’ve a half-forgotten law which says,

That when a fairy quits his fairy home

To visit earth, those whom he leaves behind

May summon from the wicked world below

That absent fairy’s mortal counterpart;

And that that mortal counterpart may stay

In fairy land and fill the fairy’s place

Till he return. Is there not some such law?

Sel. And if there be, wouldst put that law in force?(horrified).

Zay. No; not for all the love of all the world!(equally horrified).

Sel. A man in fairy land! Most horrible!

He would exhale the poison of his soul,

And we should even be as mortals are,

Hating as man hates!

Dar. (enthusiastically). Loving as man loves!

(Sel. looks reproachfully).

Too horrible! Still—

Sel.Well!

Dar.I see a trace

Of wisdom lurking in this ancient law.

Sel. Where lurks this wisdom, then? I see it not.

Dar. (with emphasis). Man is a shameless being, steeped in sins

At which our stainless nature stands appalled;

Yet, sister, if we took this loathsome soul

From yonder seething gulf of infamy—

E’en but for one short day—and let him see

The beauty of our pure, unspotted lives,

He might return to his unhappy world,

And trumpet forth the strange intelligence:

“Those men alone are happy who are good.”

Then would the world immediately repent,

And sin and wickedness be known no more!

Loc. Association with so foul a thing

As man must needs be unendurable

To souls as pure and sinless as our own:

Yet, sister dear, it has occurred to me,

That his foul deeds, perchance, proceed from this—

That we have kept ourselves too much aloof,

And left him to his blind and wayward will.

Zay. Man is every thing detestable—

Base in his nature, base in thought and deed,

Loathsome beyond all things that creep and crawl!

Still, sister, I must own I’ve sometimes thought

That we who shape the fortunes of mankind,

And grant such wishes as are free from harm,

Might possibly fulfill our generous task

With surer satisfaction to himself

Had we some notion what these wishes were!

Neo. We give him every thing but good advice,

And that which most he needs do we withhold.

Dar. Oh! terrible, dear sister, to reflect,

That to our cold and culpable neglect,

The folly of the world is chargeable!

Sel. To our neglect!

Zay.It may in truth be so.

Lei. In very truth I’m sure that it is so.

Sel. Oh! horrible! It shall be so no more.

A light breaks over me! Their sin is ours!

But there—’tis easy still to make amends.

A mortal shall behold our blameless state,

And learn the beauties of a sinless life!

Come, let us summon mortal Ethais.

Dar. But—

Sel.Not a word—I am resolved to this.

Neo. But sister—

Sel.Well?

Neo. (timidly).Why summon only one?

Sel. Why summon more?

Neo.The world’s incredulous;

Let two be brought into our blameless land,

Then should their wondrous story be received

With ridicule or incredulity,

One could corroborate the other.

Dar.Yes—

Phyllon has gone with Ethais. Let us call

The mortal counterpart of Phyllon too—

Sel. Two mortals—two unhappy men of sin

In this untainted spot!

Loc.Well, sister dear,

Two Heralds of the Truth will spread that Truth

At the least twice as rapidly as one.

Sel. Two miserable men! Why, one alone

Will bring enough pollution in his wake,

To taint our happy land from end to end!

Zay. Then, sister, two won’t make the matter worse!

Sel. There’s truth in that. (After a pause.)

The two shall come to us.

We have deserved this fearful punishment;

Our power, I think, is limited to two?

Lei. Unfortunately.

Sel.Yes—more might be done

Had each of us a pupil to herself.

Now then to summon them. But, sisters all,

Show no repugnance to these wretched men;

Remember that, all odious though they be,

They are our guests; in common courtesy

Subdue your natural antipathies;

Be very gentle with them, bear with them,

Be kind, forbearing, tender, pitiful.

Receive them with that gentle sister love,

That forms the essence of our fairyhood;

Let no side-thought of their unholy lives

Intrude itself upon your charity;

Treat them as though they were what they will be

When they have seen how we shall be to them.

What is the form?

Dar.Two roses newly plucked

Should each in turn be cast upon the earth;

Then, as each rose is thrown, pronounce the name

Of him whose mortal self it typifies.

Here are two roses plucked from yonder tree.

Sel. (taking them). Well then, fair rose, I name thee Ethais!—

Go, send thy mortal namesake to our cloud; (throws rose to earth).

’Tis done; conceal yourselves till they appear!

The fairies conceal themselves. Hurried music; to which enter Sir Ethais and Sir Phyllon, hurriedly, over the edge of cloud, as if impelled by some invisible and irresistible power from below. Sir Ethais and Sir Phyllon have their swords drawn. They are dressed as barbaric knights, and, while bearing a facial resemblance to their fairy counterparts, present as strong a contrast as possible in their costume and demeanor.

Sir Eth. Why, help, help, help!

Sir Phy.The devil seize us all!

Why, what strange land is this? How came we here?

Sir Eth. How came we here? Why, who can answer that

So well as thou?

Sir Phy.As I?

Sir Eth.Yes, cur; as thou!

This is some devil’s game of thy design,

To scare me from the task I set myself

When we crossed swords.

Sir Phy.I use no sorcery.

A whirlwind bore me to this cursed spot;

But whence it came I neither know nor care.

Sir Eth. There—gag thy lying tongue; it matters not,

Or here or there we’ll fight our quarrel out.

Come! call thy devils; let them wait at hand

And when I’ve done with thee I’ll do with them.

(They fight. The fairies watch the combat unobserved with great interest.)

Dar. What are they doing?

Sel.It’s some game of skill.

It’s very pretty.

Dar.Very. (Knights pause.) Oh, they’ve stopped.

Phy. Come, come—on guard. (Fight resumed.)

Zay.Now they begin again.

Eth. (Sees fairies, who have gradually surrounded them.)

Hold! we are overlooked. (Ethais, who has turned for a moment in saying this, is severely wounded by Phyllon.)

Sel.You may proceed.

We like it much.

Dar.You do it very well—

Begin again.

Eth.Black curses on that thrust!

I am disabled. Ladies, bind my wound;

And if it please you still to see us fight,

We’ll fight for those bright eyes and cherry lips

Till one or both of us shall bite the dust.

Phy. Hold! call a truce till we return to earth—

Here are bright eyes enough for both of us.

Eth. I don’t know that! Well, there—till we return. (Shaking hands.)

But once again on earth, we will take up

Our argument where it was broken off,

And let thy devils whirl me where they may,

I’ll reach conclusion and corollary.

Dar. (looking at Phyllon). Oh, fairyhood!

How wonderfully like our Phyllon!

Sel. (looking at Ethais).Yes.

And see—how strangely like our Ethais.

Thou hast a gallant carriage, gentle knight. (Sighing.)

Zay. How very, very like our Ethais.

Eth. It’s little wonder that I’m like myself;

Why, I am he.

Sel.No, not our Ethais. (Sighing.)

Eth. In truth, I am the Ethais of all

Who are as gentle and as fair as thou.

Sel. That’s bravely said; thou hast a silver tongue;

Why! what can gods be like if these be men.

(During this dialogue, Darine shows by her manner that she takes great interest in Ethais.)

Say, dost thou come from earth or heaven?

Eth. (gallantly putting his arm round them).

I think I’ve come from earth to heaven.

Sel. (to Darine with delight). Oh! didst thou hear?

He comes from earth to heaven! No, Ethais,

We are but fairies—this, our native home.

Our fairy-land rests on a cloud which floats

Hither and thither, as the breezes will;

At times a mighty city’s at our feet,

At times a golden plain, and then the sea,

Dotted with ships and rocks and sunny isles.

We see the world; yet saving that it is

A very wicked world, we know it not—

We hold no converse with its denizens;

But on the lands o’er which our island hangs,

We shed fair gifts of plenty and of peace—

Health and contentment—charity—goodwill;

Drop tears of love upon the thirsty earth,

And shower fair waters on the growing grain.

This is our mission.

Eth.’Tis a goodly one!

I’d give my sword—ay, and my sword-arm too,

If thou wouldst anchor for a year or so

O’er yonder home of mine. But tell me, now,

Does every cloud that hovers o’er our heads

Bear in its bosom such a wealth of love?

Sel. Alas! Sir Ethais, we are too few

To work the good that we could wish to work.

Thou hast seen black and angry thunder-clouds

That spit their evil fire at flocks and herds,

And shake with burly laughter as they watch

The trembling shepherds count their shriveled dead?

These are our enemies, sir knight, and thine.

They sow the seeds of pestilence and death—

May heaven preserve thee from their influence!

Eth. Amen to that!

Phy.But tell us, gentle maid,

Why have you summoned us?

Sel.Because we seek

To teach you truths that now ye wot not of;

Because we know that you are very frail,

Poor, blind, weak, wayward mortals—willing reeds,

Swayed right and left by every tempting wind;

And we are pure, and very, very brave,

Having no taste for trivial solaces (taking Ethais’ hand);

Scorning such idle joys as we have heard

Appeal most strongly to such men as you;

And we have cherished earnest hope that we,

By the example of our sacred lives,

May teach you to abjure such empty joys,

May send you back to earth, pure, childlike men,

To teach your mothers, sisters, and your wives,

And those perchance (sighing) who are to be your wives!

That there are fairy maidens in the clouds,

Whose gentle mode of thought and mode of life

They would do well to imitate. We would

That every maid on earth were such as we!

(Placing her arms round his neck).

Eth. In truth we would that every maiden were,—

(Aside) Except our mothers, sisters, and our wives!

Sel. If you will be our pupils, you must give

Some token of submission to our will,

No doubt you have some form of fealty?

Eth. When man desires to show profound respect—

To indicate most forcibly his own

Inferiority, he always puts

His arm round the respected object’s waist,

And drawing her (or him) towards him, thus,

Places a very long and tender kiss

On his (or her) face—as the case may be.

Sel. That form is not in vogue in fairy land;

Still, as it holds on earth, no doubt ’twill have

Far greater weight with you poor sons of earth,

Than any formula we could impose.

Phy. Its weight is overpowering. (About to kiss.)

Sel.But stay!

We would not wrest this homage from you, sir;

Or give it willingly, or not at all.

Eth. Most willingly, fair maid, we give it you.

Sel. Good! Then proceed.

(Eth. kisses Sel. and Phyl. kisses Zay.)

Eth.There! does it not convey

A pleasant sense of influence?

Sel.It does.

Some earthly forms seem rational enough.

Why Ethais, what ails thee? (Ethais staggers.)

Eth.Why, I’m faint

From loss of blood. My wound—here, take this scarf,

And bind it round my arm—so—have a care!

There, that will do till I return to earth;

Then, Lutin, who’s a fairly skillful leech,

Shall doctor it.

Sel. (amazed).Didst thou say Lutin?

Eth.Yes,

He is my squire—a poor, half-witted churl,

Enter Lutin unobserved.

Who shudders at the rustling of a leaf;

A strange, odd, faithful, loving, timid knave;

More dog than man, and, like a well-thrashed hound,

He loves his master’s voice, and dreads it, too.

Why, here he is! (In intense astonishment.)

Lut.Who is this insolent,

A mortal here in fairy land?

Loc.Yes, two!

Lut. Oh, this is outrage!

Eth. (crossing to him).Why, thou scurvy knave,

How cam’st thou here? Thou didst not come with us!

What is the meaning of this masquerade? [Alluding to Lutin’s dress.

Be off at once; if I could use my arm,

I’d whip thee for this freak, but as it is,

I’ll hand thee over to that wife of thine;

Her hand is heavier than mine. (To Sel.) This churl

(So rumor saith) is mated to a shrew;

A handsome, ranting, jealous, clacking shrew;

And he, by means of this tom-fool disguise,

Has ’scaped his home to play the truant here;

Lut. Who are these men?

Sel.The mortal counterparts

Of Ethais and Phyllon. Look at them! (Crosses to Lutin.)

Dost thou not love them?

Lut. (indignantly).No!

Sel.How very strange!

Why we all loved them from the very first.

Lut. Is this indeed the truth?

Dar.It is indeed.

Obedient to our queen’s command, we have

Subdued our natural antipathies.

Zay. They are our guests, all odious though they be,

(Takes Phyllon’s hand.)

And we must bid them welcome to our home,

As if e’en now they were what they will be

When they have seen what we shall be to them. (Kissing his hand.)

Lut. Be warned in time, and send these mortals hence;

Why, don’t you see that in each word they speak,

They breathe of love?

Sel. (enthusiastically).They do!

Lut.Why Love’s the germ

Of every sin that stalks upon the earth:

The brawler fights for love—the drunkard drinks

To toast the girl who loves him, or to drown

Remembrance of the girl who loves him not!

The miser hoards his gold to purchase love.

The liar lies to gain, or wealth, or love;

And if for wealth, it is to purchase love.

The very footpad nerves his coward arm

To stealthy deeds of shame by pondering on

The tipsy kisses of some tavern wench!

Be not deceived—this love is but the seed;

The branching tree that springs from it is Hate!

Dar. (to Eth.) Nay, heed him not. There is a legend here—

An idle tale, that man is infamous,

And he believes it. So, indeed, did we,

Till we beheld you, gallant gentlemen!

Lut. Why, they are raving! Let me go at once

And join my brothers at our monarch’s court;

While they are here this is no place for me.

Zay. (eagerly to Sel.) Let him depart; then we can summon here

His mortal counterpart. (Fairies delighted; Selene expresses indignant surprise, Zayda changes her manner), a poor frail man

No doubt, who stands in very sorest need

Of such good counsel as we can afford.

Sel. Thou speakest wisely. Lutin, get thee gone.

Eth. Be off at once.

Phy.Begone, thou scurvy knave!

Thy wife shall hear of this—she’ll punish thee.

Lut. Oh, moral plague! oh, walking pestilence!

Oh, incarnation of uncleanliness!

You call me knave! Why, hark ye men of sin.

You’ve kings and queens upon that world of yours,

To whom you crawl in apt humility;

Well, sir, there’s not an emperor on earth

Who would not kiss the dust I tread upon,

And I’m the meanest here. Good day to you.

[Exit Lutin.

Eth. (following him angrily, is restrained by Selene).

The fellow’s crazed—heed not his rhapsodies,

Thou dost not credit him?

Sel.And if I do,

What matters it? Be all he says thou art,

And I will worship thee for being so;

Thou art my faith—whate’er my Ethais does

Is ever hallowed by his doing it;

Thy moral law is mine—for thou art mine:

Rob, and I’ll scoff at honor; kill—I’ll kill;

Be perjured, and I’ll swear by perjury;

Ay, be thou false to me, and I’ll proclaim

That man forsworn who loves but one alone!

My soul is thine—whate’er my faith may be,

I’ll be its herald; if thou hast no faith,

I’ll be the high priest of thine unbelief!

Thy wisdom’s mine; thy folly’s thine—

Eth.Hush! hush!

Why this is madness!

Sel.Yes, for this is Love!

Selene kneels at Ethais’ feet.

ACT II.

Scene, same as Act I.

[Darine, Zayda, Leila, Locrine, other Fairies, and Neodie discovered anxiously watching the entrance to Selene’s bower.]

Dar. Still, still Selene watches Ethais!

For six long hours has she detained the knight

Within the dark recesses of her bower,

Under pretense that his unhappy wound

Demands her unremitting watchfulness!

(Indignantly.) This, fairies, is our queen!—the sinless soul

To whose immaculate pre-eminence

We pure and perfect maidens of the air

Accord our voluntary reverence!

Zay. Her conduct is an outrage on her sex!

Was it for this that we proposed to her

That we should bring these mortals to our land?

Is this the way to teach this erring man

The moral beauties of a spotless life?

To teach him truths that now he wots not of?

Surely this knight might well have learnt on earth

Such moral truths as she is teaching him.

Enter Selene from bower, Darine retires up.

Lei. At last she comes! (to Selene). We are well pleased to find

That, after such a lengthy vigil, thou

Canst tear thyself away from Ethais!

Sel. Yes, dearest sister, he is calmer now.

(To Zay.) Oh! this has been a fearful night for him;

Not for one moment have I left his side!

Zay. Poor Ethais! Believe us, sister dear,

He has our heartfelt pity.

Sel.All night long

He tossed and raved in wild delirium;

Shouting for arms, and, as it seemed to me,

Fighting his fight with Phyllon o’er again,

At length, as morning broke, he fell asleep,

And slept in peace till half an hour ago.

I watched him through the long and troubled night,

Fanning the fever from his throbbing brow,

Till he awoke. At first he gazed on me

In silent wonderment; then, suddenly

Seizing my hand, he pressed it to his lips,

And swore that I had saved him from the grave—

Mark that—the grave! I—I had saved his life!

He told me that he loved me—loved me well;

That I was fairer than the maids of earth—

That I had holy angel-eyes, that rained

A gentle pity on his stubborn heart—

(He called it stubborn, for he knew it not);

That I was fairer, in his worldly eyes,

Than all the maids on earth or in the clouds!

(Darine, who has listened with intense anxiety to this speech, goes off silently, but in an agony of grief.)

Zay. (spitefully). Could any words more eloquently show

The recklessness of his delirium?

Sel. (surprised). Nay, he was conscious then.

Neo. (very kindly).Of course he was!

No doubt, Selene, thou hast gained his love.

Be happy in it, dearest sister; but

In thy proud triumph, love, pray recollect

He had not seen us!

Zay.Thou hast wisely done

To keep him from our sight. Cage thou thy bird,

Or he may fly to fairer homes than thine.

Sel. (amazed). What mean you, sisters? Nay, turn not away—

What have I done?

Loc. (very spitefully).Indeed we do not know;

But, lest we should affect his love for thee,

We will at once withdraw.

[Exit Locrine, bowing ironically.

Lei. (with freezing politeness).Good-day to you!

Neo. Good-day!

Zay.Good-day. Remember—cage thy bird!

[Exit.

Sel. How strangely are my sisters changed to me!

Have I done wrong? No, no, I’m sure of that.

The knight was sorely stricken—he had died

But for my willing care. Oh! earthly love,

Thou mighty minister of good or ill,

Is it for good or ill that thou art here?

Art thou an element of happiness,

Or an unwieldy talisman that I,

In heedlessness, have turned against myself?

“He had not seen them,”—so my sister spake;

Yes, truly, there are fairer forms than mine.

He shall not see them! Oh! I am unjust.

Hath he not told me that I have his love?

There is no treachery in those brave eyes:

There is no falsehood in that gallant heart!

But still—he had not seen them. Oh, for shame!

Can love and doubt reign ever side by side?

No, Ethais, love is the death of doubt.

I love thee, Ethais, and doubt thee not!

Still it were better that he saw but me.

(Ethais has entered unperceived from bower and overheard the last three lines. He is very pale and weak, and his arm is in a sling.)

Eth. Selene, I am weak—give me thine hand.

Sel. My love, thou shouldst not yet have left thy couch!

Come—thou hast need of rest.

Eth.No, let me stay.

The air revives me—I am strong again.

And so, thou trustest me?

Sel.In truth I do! (Sits by his side.)

Although I can not tell thee whence proceeds

This strange, irrational belief in thee—

Thee, whom I hardly know.

Eth.Is that so strange?

I see no marvel!

Sel.Nay, my love, reflect,

I am a woman, and thou art a man;

Well, thou art comely—so, in truth, am I;

We meet and love each other—that’s to say,

I am prepared to give up all I have,

My home, my very fairyhood for thee;

Thou to surrender riches, honor, life,

To please the fleeting fancies of my will.

And why?

Because I see in thee, or thou in me,

Astounding virtue, brilliant intellect,

Great self-denial, venerable years,

Rare scholarship, or godly talent? No!

Because, forsooth, we’re comely specimens—

Not of our own, but Nature’s industry!

Eth. The face is the true index of the mind,

A ready formula, whereby to read

The lesson of a lifetime in a glance.

Sel. (in wonder). Then, Ethais, is perfect comeliness

Always identified with moral worth?

Eth. The comeliest man is the most virtuous—

That’s an unfailing rule.

Sel.Then, Ethais,

There is no holier man on earth than thou!

My sisters, Ethais, are sadly changed

By the strange power that emanates from thee.

They love thee as I love thee!

Eth. (aside).Do they so!

I’faith they shall not love their love in vain!

Sel. I tell thee this that thou mayst shun them, lest

By crafty scheme and subtly planned device,

They steal thee from thy mistress unawares.

Eth. (laughing). No fear of that! Laugh all their schemes to scorn,

Treat them with the contempt such jades deserve.

I do not seek them.

Sel.Does the miser treat

The thief who seeks his treasure with contempt,

Because his treasure does not seek the thief?

No, Ethais, I’ll hide my gold away!

Take thou this ring—it is a pledge of love (giving him a ring).

Wear it until thy love fades from thy soul.

Eth. ’Twill never fade while thou art true to me.

Sel. (amazed). Are women ever false to such as thou?

Eth. Are women ever true? Well, not to me.

(Aside.) Nor I to them; and so we square accounts!

Sel. Then thou hast been deceived?

Eth.A dozen times.

Sel. How terrible!

Eth.Yes, terrible indeed!

Ah, my Selene, picture to thyself

A man—linked for his life to one he loves.

She is his world—she is the breath he breathes;

In his fond eyes the type of purity.

Well, she is false—all women are—and then

Come tidings of his shame, the damning words,

“I love another, I have cheated thee.”

At first it can not be, it is a dream;

And when by slow procession, step by step,

He sees in it the waking from a dream,

His heavy heart stands still—he dies a death,

A momentary death—to wake again

Into a furious life of hot revenge;

His hand against all men; his maddened tongue

Calling down curses on his cheated self;

On him who stole her love, on all but her

Who has called down this crowning curse on him!

To find her love a lie, her kiss a jest,

Her cherished bywords a cold mockery—

Oh, there are words

For other agonies, but none for this!

Sel. And thou hast suffered this?

Eth. (bitterly).I have indeed!

Sel. And how long does this bitter anguish last?

Eth. Well, in a very serious case, all night!

Next day a fairer face, a nobler form,

A purer heart, a gentler maidenhood,

Will set him dreaming as he dreamt before

Until the time for waking comes again;

And so the round of love runs through our lives!

Sel. But these are earthly maidens, Ethais—

My love is purer than a mortal’s love.

Eth. Thine is no mortal love if it be pure.

Sel. (horrified). Then, mortal Ethais, what love is thine?

Eth. (taken aback). I spake of women—men are otherwise.

Sel. Man’s love is pure, invariably?

Eth.Pure?

Pure as thine own!

Sel.Poor, trusting, cheated souls!

[Exeunt together into bower.

Enter Darine, who has overheard the last few lines.

Dar. She leads him willingly into her bower!

Oh! I could curse the eyes that meet his eyes,

The hand that touches his hand, and the lips

That press his lips! And why? I can not tell!

Some unknown fury rages in my soul,

A mean and miserable hate of all,[Enter Phyllon unobserved.

Who interpose between my love and me!

What devil doth possess me?

Phy.Jealousy!

Dar. Perhaps—what matters how the fiend is called?

Phy. But wherefore art thou jealous? Tell me, now,

Have I done aught to cause this jealousy?

Dar. Thou! Dost thou love me?

Phy.Love thee? Tenderly!

I love all pretty girls, on principle.

Dar. But is thy love an all-possessing love?

Mad, reckless, unrestrained, infuriate,

Holding thy heart within its iron grasp,

And pressing passion from its very core?

Phy. (surprised). Oh, yes!

Dar.Alas! poor stricken, love-sick knight!

Phyllon, my love is such a love as thine,

But it is not for thee! Oh, nerve thyself,

I have ill tidings for thee, gentle knight!

I love thee not!

Phy.Indeed?

Dar.Is it not strange?

Phy. Most unaccountable.

Dar. (disappointed).But tell me, now.

Art thou not sorely vexed?

Phy. (quietly).Unspeakably.

Dar. But thou’lt forgive me? Tell me Phyllon, now,

That I am pardoned!

Phy.That, indeed, thou art.

Dar. (hurt). Phyllon, hadst thou despised my proffered love,

I’d not have pardoned thee!

Phy.No, women don’t.

Dar. (impatiently). But dost thou understand? I love thee not.

I, whom thou lovest, Phyllon, love thee not—

Nay, more, I love another—Ethais!

Thou hast a rival, and a favored one.

Dost thou not hear me?

Phy. (surprised).Yes; I’m deeply pained.

Dar. (delighted). Thou art?

Phy. Of course. What wouldst thou have me do?

Dar. Do? Hurl thyself headlong to yonder earth,

And end at once a life of agony!

Phy. Why should I!

Dar.Why? Because I love thee not!

Why if I loved and found my love despised,

The universe should ring with my laments;

And were I mortal, Phyllon, as thou art,

I would destroy myself!

Phy.Ha! ha! If all

Heartbroken lovers took that course, the world

Would be depopulated in a week!

And so thou lovest Ethais?

Dar. (enthusiastically).I do!

Phy. But still (I may be wrong) it seems to me

He’s taken with Selene—

Dar. (furiously).Name her not!

He feigns a love he does not feel, because

She is our queen. He dares not anger her!

Phy. But art thou sure of this?

Dar. (bitterly).Oh! am I sure!

Look in these eyes—they do not burn for thee;

Behold this form—that thou shalt never clasp—

Gaze on these lips—thou shalt not press them, sir!

And tell me, now, that Ethais loves me not!

Oh! had I but the power to heal his wound,

And free him from her hated company!

Phy. Were Lutin here, he would assist thy plan.

Dar. Lutin?

Phy.His henchman, and a cunning leech;

He has a charm—a potent talisman—

A panacea that will heal all wounds;

Fetch him, and Ethais is healed again.

Dar. (aside). The gods have heard me!

(Aloud, suddenly). Oh; insensate knight,

Thou counselest me how to gain his love;

And yet thou lovest me?

Phy.Oh, pardon me,

That was ten minutes since—an age ago!

[Exit.

Dar. Here comes the miserable, mincing jade,

With a fair speech upon her lying lips,

To meet the sister whom her base-born arts

Have robbed of more than life! Oh, hypocrite!

Enter Selene from bower.

Sel. Darine!

Dar. (changing her manner). My sister—my beloved one,

Why, thou art sad; thine eyes are dim with tears!

Say, what hath brought thee grief?

Sel. (with great joy).Darine, my own.

Thou dost not shun me, then?

Dar. (aside).Oh, hypocrite!

(Aloud.) Shun thee, my own Selene? No—not I!

Sel. Bless thee for that! I feared to meet thy face,

For all my loved companions turned from me

With scornful jest and bitter mockery.

Thou—thou—Darine, alone art true to me!

Dar. True to Selene while Selene breathes!

Come—tell me all thy woes.

Sel.My Ethais—

He whom I love so fondly—he is ill,

And I am powerless to heal his wound.

Darine, my love may die!

Dar.What can be done?

Oh, I would give my fairyhood to save

The man thou lovest so—my dearly loved!

But stay, the counterpart of Lutin is

At once his henchman and his cunning leech;

Lutin has left our sphere, (plucking rose from tree)

cast this to earth, (giving it)

And summon mortal Lutin to his aid.

He hath a charm to heal thy lover’s wound.

Sel. Kind Heaven reward thee for thy ready wit,

My sister, thou hast saved both him and me!

My darling sister! (Embracing her.)

Dar. (aside).Oh, thou hypocrite!

Sel. Fair rose, I name thee Lutin, go to earth,

And hither send the mortal counterpart

Of him whose name thou hast, and may the gods

Prosper thy mission! Kiss me, dear Darine, (kissing her)

For thou hast saved my Ethais for me!

[Exit Selene.

Dar. No, not for thee, good sister, for myself!

[Exit Darine.

(Hurried music. Enter Mortal Lutin over edge of precipice, staggering on the stage as if violently impelled from below.)

Lut. What ho! help! help! Where am I? Not on earth,

For I remember that a friendly cloud

Enveloped me, and whirled me through the air,

Just as my fair, but able-bodied, wife,

Began to lay my staff about my ears!

[Enter Neodie, Leila, Locrine, and others.

Can this be death, and has she killed me? (Sees them) Well,

If I be dead, and if this be the place

In which I’m doomed to expiate my sins,

Taking my sins all round, I’m bound to say

It might have been considerably worse!

Loc. (approaching him with great delight).

Why, this is Lutin’s mortal counterpart!

Neo. How quaint! How gloriously rugged?

Lei.Yes!

Such character and such expression!

All. (admiring him).Yes!

Lut. By some mistake my soul has missed its way,

And slipped into Mahomet’s Paradise!

Neo. No, this is fairy-land. See, there’s the earth

From which we summoned thee. These are the clouds.

Thou art not angry with us?

Lut.Angry? No!

I’m very well up here!

Loc.Then thou shalt stay!

Neo. Oh, tell me, are there many men on earth