ACT II.

ACT II.Scene.—Interior of the Palace of Truth.EnterGélanor, meetingKing PhanorandQueen AltemireandZeolide.Gélan.Welcome, my lord! Madam, I humbly trustThe palace realizes all the hopesThat 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 agoThat you possessed so lovely a domain!Why have I wasted eighteen years on earth,When such a heaven as this awaited me?Gélan.(aside toPhanor).You have not told the Princess or your CourtThe palace’s peculiarity?Phan.Not I. The secret is our own, as yet—The Queen’s, and yours, and mine.Gélan.With you and meThe secret’s safe. But then—Queen Altemire—If you have toldherall—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 anticipateNo ordinary sport from watching them.[ExeuntGélanorandPhanor.Altem.What are you reading, Zeolide?Zeo.(with scroll).A songWritten 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.EnterZoram,Chrysal, andAristæus.And here are author and composer, too—And Critic, teeming with humanity.Come let us hear it.(Zeolidesings a song. At its conclusionChrysalandZoramapplaud)Chrys.(coming forward with all the action of a man who is expressing extreme approval).Oh, I protest, my ears have never heardA 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 sayNo 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 wroteThe air I sung!Zor.Iwrote 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 standFar 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 manWhom 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 pleasedWith every thing, my amiabilityWould go for naught; so I have coined myselfA disposition foreign to my own,In hopes my clumsy boorish insolenceMight please you by its very novelty;And prove, perchance, a not unwelcome foilTo 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 insincereYou tell the truth—there, make the most of that!Zor.Chrysal, your hand; I’m glad to find at lastYour eyes are opened to your many faults.Chrys.How, sir, is this intentional affront?Zor.No, not intentional. I tried to frameA 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![ExitChrysal.Zor.(in terror). WhathaveI said?Altem.(aside).These boobies must not fight,But how to stop them? Here comes Philamir!Now he and Zeolide can meet. But firstI must get rid of Zoram. (ToZoram). 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![ExeuntZoramandQueen Altemire.EnterPhilamir,—Zeolideruns 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 findA fitter nursery for love than this?If that love lives, but sleeps, why wake it nowAnd let it revel in these golden groves.If it is dead, why here’s a paradiseThat 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 sayThat love should advertise itself in wordsMore fervid than the weary formula,“I love you, Philamir.” You love your friends.Why, Zeolide, I think I’ve heard you sayYou 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 weighAs jewelers weigh gold. Such love is worthThe gold one pays for it—it’s worth no more.Why, Philamir, I might as well attemptTo 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 thinkMy words have pleased you!Phil.(with enthusiasm).Pleased me? They’ve done more—They’ve gratified my vanity, and madeMe feel that I am irresistible!Zeo.Indeed!Phil.Indeed, dear Zeolide, they have.Why how you frown!Zeo.(coldly).If such a love as mineServes but to feed your sense of vanity,I think it is misplaced.Phil.My vanityMust needs be fed, and with such love as yours.I have worked hard to gain it, Zeolide!You are not nearly as attractive asFive 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 couldRepeat the sentence; and it hurt me muchThat 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 thatYou never loved a woman till we met!Phil.(with all the appearance of rapture).I always say that. I have said the sameTo 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 speechIs 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 contentTo 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 diffidenceI 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 responseTo all the seeming fury of my love,My pride was nettled, and I perseveredUntil 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 breatheSuch 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 itAnd garnered it away. Oh, Philamir,As misers store up gold, I stored my loveIn all the inmost corners of my heart,Dreading to speak or look at Philamir,Lest some unguarded word or tell-tale glanceShould 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 wordsWhich never yet were known to miss their markWhen uttered by Prince Philamir—in wordsSo charged with passion that they well might charmThe very proudest maid in Christendom;And off she bounces as indignantlyAs if I’d told the very plainest truth!EnterChrysal.Chrys.Your Royal Highness seems disturbed.Phil.I am!I’m much annoyed with Princess Zeolide.You know how coldly she has hithertoReceived the protestations of my love?Chrys.(politely). I do indeed. You’ve been the laughing-stockOf 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 beExtremely candid with Prince Philamir.But let that pass. You were reminding meHow coldly Princess Zeolide receivedYour vows. What then?Phil.Why, not ten minutes sinceHer manner changed, and all her pent-up loveBurst from her lips in frenzied eloquence.I was astounded!—I, of course, beganTo echo all her sentiments ten-fold.I picked the very fairest flowers that growUpon the dreamy plains of metaphor,And showered them upon her. White with rageShe 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 thinkThe Princess spoke with rapture of your love;But I can quite believe that when you spokeIn what you’re pleased to think is metaphor,The well-bred Princess shrank instinctivelyFrom 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 consistsIn framing novel forms of compliment.But who comes here—a modest little maid—EnterAzèma—she starts on seeingPhilamirandChrysal.And rather pretty too.Phil.(angrily). She hears you, sir!(Politely toAzèma) I fear we’ve frightened you?Azèma.Oh no, indeed,I am not frightened, though I seem to be.(Azèma’smanner 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 seekPrince Philamir, I’m anxious he should thinkThis meeting is a simple accident.Do not suppose that this is modesty,’Tis but an artifice to make you thinkThat I am timid as a startled fawn!Chrys.(aside toPhilamir). This is a character. I’ll open fireAnd 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 remarkedThat 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 toPhilamir, who starts angrily).No thanks—indeed ’tis true.Azèma.(toChrysal). 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 IMay 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 freeTo enter.Phil.Yes, quite right. Did they say more?Azèma.Oh, yes, much more. They told me, then, that youReceived but sorry treatment at the handsOf Princess Zeolide. They told me, too,That your betrothal might ere long collapse;(With extreme modesty) So thought I, as I am beyond disputeThe fairest maid for many a mile around—And as, moreover, I possess the giftOf 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 furnitureHas caught your dress.Azèma.(re-arranging her dress hastily) Oh, I arranged it so,That you might see how truly beautifulMy 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 gloveThat you may note the whiteness of my hand.I place it there in order that you mayBe 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 waistAnd kiss me. (Struggling to release herself)Phil.It might anger you!Azèma.Oh, no!It’s true that I should start with every showOf indignation, just in order toMaintain 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 PalmsAt ten o’clock to-night. I mention thisThat 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 implyThat 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!EnterChrysal.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 possiblyYou 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 toChrysal, 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![ExeuntChrysalandAzèma,—Azèmaaffecting to try and release herself.Philamirstands astounded for a moment.Phil.I’ve found a clew that solves these mysteries!This palace is enchanted ground! It’s plainThat there’s some subtle influence at work,Affecting everybody here—but me!Chrysal, the honey-tongued, turns out to beA 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 ZeolideBecomes 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 lightThat all may see their arrant hollowness!It’s evident there’s some enchantment hereThat 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.EnterMirza.Mirza.(starts). I beg your pardon. I was looking forMy diary; I’ve dropped it hereabouts.Phil.Allow me to assist you in your search?Mirza.(hastily). No, no; that must not be. My diaryMust 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 thoughtThat 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 learntThat this is fairy ground, where every oneIs bound, against his will, to speak the truth.If you interrogate me, I am boundTo answer truly. I need say no moreTo 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 sinceTo 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 IAm 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 nowI’m weary of my liking. She displaysSo much unreasonable petulance,Such causeless anger—such unbridled wrath,That I’m resolved to break the weary linkThat binds us. I’ll be free to love again. (TakingMirza’shand)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, shameTo 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 loveyou!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!(Philamirpauses, struggling with his feelings.)Phil.(releasing her). My Lady Mirza, you are free to go.[ExitMirzahastily.How subtly works the mystic influence,That all seem subject to,—excepting me!And from the fearful ordeal only oneOf 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 knowThat she is mortal—that I knew before.To know that Mirza’s worthy of my love,And that, despite the searching influenceThat I alone resist—oh, this indeedIs happiness!—I’m sure she loves me well!EnterZeolide.Zeo.Indeed she does! If half-an-hour agoShe 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 seenHow 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 whenYou 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 sayShe did not tell me so in open words;Her love for you restrained her. She’s too good—Too pure—too honorable—to allowA passion for her dearest friend’s betrothedTo master her. You should have heard her pleadYour 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 wishThat I could find sufficient argumentTo 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 spokeIn 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 hoursThat 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 nightI’ll seek my father, and I’ll gain from himThe 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).EnterPalmis.Palmis.What? Zeolide in tears? Has PhilamirBeen too emphatic in his vows of love?Have pity on him!Zeo.Palmis, pityme—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!EnterChrysalandAzèma—he leavesAzèmaabruptly on seeingPalmis.Palmis.Why, Chrysal, who is this? Where have you been?Chrys.(affectionately).I have been wandering through shady grovesWith 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.(toAzèma). Oh, you’re a brazen woman!Azèma.(with great modesty).That I am!An ordinary every-day coquette,Who lives on admiration, and resolvesTo gain it by whatever means she can.Zeo.(aside toPalmis).Palmis, there’s some enchantment in this place—I know not what—it influences all.Do not dismiss him yet, until we learnIts nature!Chrys.(with affection). Yes, my Palmis, wait awhile,Do not dismiss me yet; although it’s trueI never loved you, yet I want your loveBecause you have much influence at Court,And have it in your power to help me onTo 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 wonThe highest rank your mistress can confer.In the mean time, however, I am fainTo 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 earthPossesses you?Palmis.Don’t speak to me again,I can’t endure you!Re-enterZoram.Zor.I am glad of this.Dear Palmis, I for many a weary dayHave sought to win your love from Chrysal here,By every mean, contemptible deviceThat 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 gainYour 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,WhathaveI said?EnterGélanor.Gélan.Hush, gentlemen—the Queen.Re-enterQueen Altemirehastily.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 bestHis daughter did not hear.Zeo.My father comes.Re-enterPhanorandMirza.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 innocenceHas 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 forAltemire).Why, making loveTo Mirza. I invariably doWhenever I’ve a chance; but all in vain.She’s a good woman, and despises me.(ToMirza) Haven’t I offered love to you?Mirza.You have.Phan.And you despise me, don’t you?Mirza.Heartily.Phan.(toAltemire). 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, butSome unknown power masters me, and makesMe own, against my will, that it was so!Altem.There, sir—you hear her words!Phan.(aside toGélanor).Why, Gélanor,How’s this? The talisman is out of gear!(Showing box toGélanor).Gélan.Let me examine it. (Takes it and returns it.) A forgery!A clever imitation; virtueless!It lacks the small inscription on the hinge!(Phanorfalls breathless into a chair.)Phan.To-morrow morning we go home again!

Scene.—Interior of the Palace of Truth.EnterGélanor, meetingKing PhanorandQueen AltemireandZeolide.Gélan.Welcome, my lord! Madam, I humbly trustThe palace realizes all the hopesThat 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 agoThat you possessed so lovely a domain!Why have I wasted eighteen years on earth,When such a heaven as this awaited me?Gélan.(aside toPhanor).You have not told the Princess or your CourtThe palace’s peculiarity?Phan.Not I. The secret is our own, as yet—The Queen’s, and yours, and mine.Gélan.With you and meThe secret’s safe. But then—Queen Altemire—If you have toldherall—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 anticipateNo ordinary sport from watching them.[ExeuntGélanorandPhanor.Altem.What are you reading, Zeolide?Zeo.(with scroll).A songWritten 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.EnterZoram,Chrysal, andAristæus.And here are author and composer, too—And Critic, teeming with humanity.Come let us hear it.(Zeolidesings a song. At its conclusionChrysalandZoramapplaud)Chrys.(coming forward with all the action of a man who is expressing extreme approval).Oh, I protest, my ears have never heardA 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 sayNo 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 wroteThe air I sung!Zor.Iwrote 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 standFar 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 manWhom 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 pleasedWith every thing, my amiabilityWould go for naught; so I have coined myselfA disposition foreign to my own,In hopes my clumsy boorish insolenceMight please you by its very novelty;And prove, perchance, a not unwelcome foilTo 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 insincereYou tell the truth—there, make the most of that!Zor.Chrysal, your hand; I’m glad to find at lastYour eyes are opened to your many faults.Chrys.How, sir, is this intentional affront?Zor.No, not intentional. I tried to frameA 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![ExitChrysal.Zor.(in terror). WhathaveI said?Altem.(aside).These boobies must not fight,But how to stop them? Here comes Philamir!Now he and Zeolide can meet. But firstI must get rid of Zoram. (ToZoram). 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![ExeuntZoramandQueen Altemire.EnterPhilamir,—Zeolideruns 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 findA fitter nursery for love than this?If that love lives, but sleeps, why wake it nowAnd let it revel in these golden groves.If it is dead, why here’s a paradiseThat 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 sayThat love should advertise itself in wordsMore fervid than the weary formula,“I love you, Philamir.” You love your friends.Why, Zeolide, I think I’ve heard you sayYou 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 weighAs jewelers weigh gold. Such love is worthThe gold one pays for it—it’s worth no more.Why, Philamir, I might as well attemptTo 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 thinkMy words have pleased you!Phil.(with enthusiasm).Pleased me? They’ve done more—They’ve gratified my vanity, and madeMe feel that I am irresistible!Zeo.Indeed!Phil.Indeed, dear Zeolide, they have.Why how you frown!Zeo.(coldly).If such a love as mineServes but to feed your sense of vanity,I think it is misplaced.Phil.My vanityMust needs be fed, and with such love as yours.I have worked hard to gain it, Zeolide!You are not nearly as attractive asFive 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 couldRepeat the sentence; and it hurt me muchThat 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 thatYou never loved a woman till we met!Phil.(with all the appearance of rapture).I always say that. I have said the sameTo 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 speechIs 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 contentTo 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 diffidenceI 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 responseTo all the seeming fury of my love,My pride was nettled, and I perseveredUntil 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 breatheSuch 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 itAnd garnered it away. Oh, Philamir,As misers store up gold, I stored my loveIn all the inmost corners of my heart,Dreading to speak or look at Philamir,Lest some unguarded word or tell-tale glanceShould 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 wordsWhich never yet were known to miss their markWhen uttered by Prince Philamir—in wordsSo charged with passion that they well might charmThe very proudest maid in Christendom;And off she bounces as indignantlyAs if I’d told the very plainest truth!EnterChrysal.Chrys.Your Royal Highness seems disturbed.Phil.I am!I’m much annoyed with Princess Zeolide.You know how coldly she has hithertoReceived the protestations of my love?Chrys.(politely). I do indeed. You’ve been the laughing-stockOf 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 beExtremely candid with Prince Philamir.But let that pass. You were reminding meHow coldly Princess Zeolide receivedYour vows. What then?Phil.Why, not ten minutes sinceHer manner changed, and all her pent-up loveBurst from her lips in frenzied eloquence.I was astounded!—I, of course, beganTo echo all her sentiments ten-fold.I picked the very fairest flowers that growUpon the dreamy plains of metaphor,And showered them upon her. White with rageShe 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 thinkThe Princess spoke with rapture of your love;But I can quite believe that when you spokeIn what you’re pleased to think is metaphor,The well-bred Princess shrank instinctivelyFrom 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 consistsIn framing novel forms of compliment.But who comes here—a modest little maid—EnterAzèma—she starts on seeingPhilamirandChrysal.And rather pretty too.Phil.(angrily). She hears you, sir!(Politely toAzèma) I fear we’ve frightened you?Azèma.Oh no, indeed,I am not frightened, though I seem to be.(Azèma’smanner 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 seekPrince Philamir, I’m anxious he should thinkThis meeting is a simple accident.Do not suppose that this is modesty,’Tis but an artifice to make you thinkThat I am timid as a startled fawn!Chrys.(aside toPhilamir). This is a character. I’ll open fireAnd 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 remarkedThat 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 toPhilamir, who starts angrily).No thanks—indeed ’tis true.Azèma.(toChrysal). 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 IMay 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 freeTo enter.Phil.Yes, quite right. Did they say more?Azèma.Oh, yes, much more. They told me, then, that youReceived but sorry treatment at the handsOf Princess Zeolide. They told me, too,That your betrothal might ere long collapse;(With extreme modesty) So thought I, as I am beyond disputeThe fairest maid for many a mile around—And as, moreover, I possess the giftOf 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 furnitureHas caught your dress.Azèma.(re-arranging her dress hastily) Oh, I arranged it so,That you might see how truly beautifulMy 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 gloveThat you may note the whiteness of my hand.I place it there in order that you mayBe 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 waistAnd kiss me. (Struggling to release herself)Phil.It might anger you!Azèma.Oh, no!It’s true that I should start with every showOf indignation, just in order toMaintain 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 PalmsAt ten o’clock to-night. I mention thisThat 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 implyThat 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!EnterChrysal.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 possiblyYou 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 toChrysal, 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![ExeuntChrysalandAzèma,—Azèmaaffecting to try and release herself.Philamirstands astounded for a moment.Phil.I’ve found a clew that solves these mysteries!This palace is enchanted ground! It’s plainThat there’s some subtle influence at work,Affecting everybody here—but me!Chrysal, the honey-tongued, turns out to beA 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 ZeolideBecomes 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 lightThat all may see their arrant hollowness!It’s evident there’s some enchantment hereThat 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.EnterMirza.Mirza.(starts). I beg your pardon. I was looking forMy diary; I’ve dropped it hereabouts.Phil.Allow me to assist you in your search?Mirza.(hastily). No, no; that must not be. My diaryMust 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 thoughtThat 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 learntThat this is fairy ground, where every oneIs bound, against his will, to speak the truth.If you interrogate me, I am boundTo answer truly. I need say no moreTo 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 sinceTo 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 IAm 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 nowI’m weary of my liking. She displaysSo much unreasonable petulance,Such causeless anger—such unbridled wrath,That I’m resolved to break the weary linkThat binds us. I’ll be free to love again. (TakingMirza’shand)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, shameTo 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 loveyou!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!(Philamirpauses, struggling with his feelings.)Phil.(releasing her). My Lady Mirza, you are free to go.[ExitMirzahastily.How subtly works the mystic influence,That all seem subject to,—excepting me!And from the fearful ordeal only oneOf 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 knowThat she is mortal—that I knew before.To know that Mirza’s worthy of my love,And that, despite the searching influenceThat I alone resist—oh, this indeedIs happiness!—I’m sure she loves me well!EnterZeolide.Zeo.Indeed she does! If half-an-hour agoShe 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 seenHow 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 whenYou 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 sayShe did not tell me so in open words;Her love for you restrained her. She’s too good—Too pure—too honorable—to allowA passion for her dearest friend’s betrothedTo master her. You should have heard her pleadYour 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 wishThat I could find sufficient argumentTo 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 spokeIn 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 hoursThat 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 nightI’ll seek my father, and I’ll gain from himThe 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).EnterPalmis.Palmis.What? Zeolide in tears? Has PhilamirBeen too emphatic in his vows of love?Have pity on him!Zeo.Palmis, pityme—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!EnterChrysalandAzèma—he leavesAzèmaabruptly on seeingPalmis.Palmis.Why, Chrysal, who is this? Where have you been?Chrys.(affectionately).I have been wandering through shady grovesWith 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.(toAzèma). Oh, you’re a brazen woman!Azèma.(with great modesty).That I am!An ordinary every-day coquette,Who lives on admiration, and resolvesTo gain it by whatever means she can.Zeo.(aside toPalmis).Palmis, there’s some enchantment in this place—I know not what—it influences all.Do not dismiss him yet, until we learnIts nature!Chrys.(with affection). Yes, my Palmis, wait awhile,Do not dismiss me yet; although it’s trueI never loved you, yet I want your loveBecause you have much influence at Court,And have it in your power to help me onTo 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 wonThe highest rank your mistress can confer.In the mean time, however, I am fainTo 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 earthPossesses you?Palmis.Don’t speak to me again,I can’t endure you!Re-enterZoram.Zor.I am glad of this.Dear Palmis, I for many a weary dayHave sought to win your love from Chrysal here,By every mean, contemptible deviceThat 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 gainYour 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,WhathaveI said?EnterGélanor.Gélan.Hush, gentlemen—the Queen.Re-enterQueen Altemirehastily.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 bestHis daughter did not hear.Zeo.My father comes.Re-enterPhanorandMirza.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 innocenceHas 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 forAltemire).Why, making loveTo Mirza. I invariably doWhenever I’ve a chance; but all in vain.She’s a good woman, and despises me.(ToMirza) Haven’t I offered love to you?Mirza.You have.Phan.And you despise me, don’t you?Mirza.Heartily.Phan.(toAltemire). 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, butSome unknown power masters me, and makesMe own, against my will, that it was so!Altem.There, sir—you hear her words!Phan.(aside toGélanor).Why, Gélanor,How’s this? The talisman is out of gear!(Showing box toGélanor).Gélan.Let me examine it. (Takes it and returns it.) A forgery!A clever imitation; virtueless!It lacks the small inscription on the hinge!(Phanorfalls breathless into a chair.)Phan.To-morrow morning we go home again!

Scene.—Interior of the Palace of Truth.

EnterGélanor, meetingKing PhanorandQueen AltemireandZeolide.

Gélan.Welcome, my lord! Madam, I humbly trustThe palace realizes all the hopesThat you had entertained concerning it.

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.

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 agoThat you possessed so lovely a domain!Why have I wasted eighteen years on earth,When such a heaven as this awaited me?

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 toPhanor).You have not told the Princess or your CourtThe palace’s peculiarity?

Gélan.(aside toPhanor).

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.

Phan.Not I. The secret is our own, as yet—

The Queen’s, and yours, and mine.

Gélan.With you and meThe secret’s safe. But then—Queen Altemire—If you have toldherall—

Gélan.With you and me

The secret’s safe. But then—Queen Altemire—

If you have toldherall—

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 anticipateNo ordinary sport from watching them.[ExeuntGélanorandPhanor.

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.

[ExeuntGélanorandPhanor.

Altem.What are you reading, Zeolide?

Zeo.(with scroll).A songWritten 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.

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.

EnterZoram,Chrysal, andAristæus.

And here are author and composer, too—And Critic, teeming with humanity.Come let us hear it.

And here are author and composer, too—

And Critic, teeming with humanity.

Come let us hear it.

(Zeolidesings a song. At its conclusionChrysalandZoramapplaud)

Chrys.(coming forward with all the action of a man who is expressing extreme approval).Oh, I protest, my ears have never heardA 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.)

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 sayNo voice could rival Princess Zeolide’s?

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.

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.

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!

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 wroteThe air I sung!

Zeo.Oh, Zoram, you are jesting—why you wrote

The air I sung!

Zor.Iwrote 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 standFar higher in the world’s esteem than I!

Zor.Iwrote 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!

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.

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.

Arist.(very savagely).Of course I am;

I’m always pleased with every thing.

Altem.Indeed!Men look on Aristæus as a manWhom nothing satisfies.

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 pleasedWith every thing, my amiabilityWould go for naught; so I have coined myselfA disposition foreign to my own,In hopes my clumsy boorish insolenceMight please you by its very novelty;And prove, perchance, a not unwelcome foilTo Zoram’s mockery of cultured taste,And Chrysal’s chronic insincerity!I’m rough and honest, frank—outspoken—blunt.

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 insincereYou tell the truth—there, make the most of that!

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 lastYour eyes are opened to your many faults.

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 frameA pleasant speech, but, by some awkward slip,The truth escaped me quite against my will.(With great admiration) You systematic liar!

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![ExitChrysal.

Chrys.This shall cost or you or me his life.

In half an hour you shall hear from me!

[ExitChrysal.

Zor.(in terror). WhathaveI said?

Altem.(aside).These boobies must not fight,But how to stop them? Here comes Philamir!Now he and Zeolide can meet. But firstI must get rid of Zoram. (ToZoram). Get you hence,I will contrive to pacify your foe.

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. (ToZoram). 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![ExeuntZoramandQueen Altemire.

Zor.(piteously). I’m sure I don’t know what I’ve done!

[ExeuntZoramandQueen Altemire.

EnterPhilamir,—Zeolideruns 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.

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 findA fitter nursery for love than this?If that love lives, but sleeps, why wake it nowAnd let it revel in these golden groves.If it is dead, why here’s a paradiseThat well might summon it to second life!

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.

Zeo.It sleeps not, Philamir, nor is it dead,

It lives and can not die.

Phil.But people sayThat love should advertise itself in wordsMore fervid than the weary formula,“I love you, Philamir.” You love your friends.Why, Zeolide, I think I’ve heard you sayYou love your horse!

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 weighAs jewelers weigh gold. Such love is worthThe gold one pays for it—it’s worth no more.Why, Philamir, I might as well attemptTo set a price upon the universe—Or measure space—or time eternity,As tell my love in words!

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!

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 thinkMy words have pleased you!

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 madeMe feel that I am irresistible!

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!

Phil.Indeed, dear Zeolide, they have.

Why how you frown!

Zeo.(coldly).If such a love as mineServes but to feed your sense of vanity,I think it is misplaced.

Zeo.(coldly).If such a love as mine

Serves but to feed your sense of vanity,

I think it is misplaced.

Phil.My vanityMust needs be fed, and with such love as yours.I have worked hard to gain it, Zeolide!You are not nearly as attractive asFive hundred other ladies I could name,Who, when I said I loved them, stopped my lips—

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 couldRepeat the sentence; and it hurt me muchThat you, who are comparatively plain,Should give me so much trouble, Zeolide.

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—

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!

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 thatYou never loved a woman till we met!

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 sameTo all the women that I ever woo’d!

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.)

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 speechIs 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 contentTo waste its time in seeking precious stones,When paste will answer every end as well!

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 diffidenceI have no serious fault to find with you!

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!

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 responseTo all the seeming fury of my love,My pride was nettled, and I perseveredUntil I made you tell me of your love,In words that bore comparison with mine.I’ve done that, and I’m amply satisfied.

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 breatheSuch 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 itAnd garnered it away. Oh, Philamir,As misers store up gold, I stored my loveIn all the inmost corners of my heart,Dreading to speak or look at Philamir,Lest some unguarded word or tell-tale glanceShould 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!

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.

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.

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 wordsWhich never yet were known to miss their markWhen uttered by Prince Philamir—in wordsSo charged with passion that they well might charmThe very proudest maid in Christendom;And off she bounces as indignantlyAs if I’d told the very plainest truth!

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!

EnterChrysal.

Chrys.Your Royal Highness seems disturbed.

Phil.I am!I’m much annoyed with Princess Zeolide.You know how coldly she has hithertoReceived the protestations of my love?

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-stockOf all the Court for months on that account.

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 beExtremely candid with Prince Philamir.But let that pass. You were reminding meHow coldly Princess Zeolide receivedYour vows. What then?

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 sinceHer manner changed, and all her pent-up loveBurst from her lips in frenzied eloquence.I was astounded!—I, of course, beganTo echo all her sentiments ten-fold.I picked the very fairest flowers that growUpon the dreamy plains of metaphor,And showered them upon her. White with rageShe started from me—telling me, with tears,Her dream of love had melted into air!I see you don’t believe me, Chrysal—

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 thinkThe Princess spoke with rapture of your love;But I can quite believe that when you spokeIn what you’re pleased to think is metaphor,The well-bred Princess shrank instinctivelyFrom such a florid prince as Philamir (with a respectful bow).

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 consistsIn framing novel forms of compliment.But who comes here—a modest little maid—

Chrys.My lord, my speciality consists

In framing novel forms of compliment.

But who comes here—a modest little maid—

EnterAzèma—she starts on seeingPhilamirandChrysal.

And rather pretty too.

Phil.(angrily). She hears you, sir!(Politely toAzèma) I fear we’ve frightened you?

Phil.(angrily). She hears you, sir!

(Politely toAzèma) I fear we’ve frightened you?

Azèma.Oh no, indeed,I am not frightened, though I seem to be.

Azèma.Oh no, indeed,

I am not frightened, though I seem to be.

(Azèma’smanner 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 seekPrince Philamir, I’m anxious he should thinkThis meeting is a simple accident.Do not suppose that this is modesty,’Tis but an artifice to make you thinkThat I am timid as a startled fawn!

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 toPhilamir). This is a character. I’ll open fireAnd 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 remarkedThat you’ve a certain girlish prettiness,Although your nose is sadly underbred.(Aside) That’s rather neat!

Chrys.(aside toPhilamir). 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 toPhilamir, who starts angrily).No thanks—indeed ’tis true.

Chrys.Not I, indeed, fair lady. This is he—The most conceited coxcomb in the world (with an elaborate bow toPhilamir, who starts angrily).

No thanks—indeed ’tis true.

Azèma.(toChrysal). Then go your way—I don’t want you! I only want the prince.’Twas Philamir I came to captivate.

Azèma.(toChrysal). 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 IMay be alone together.

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!

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.

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.

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 freeTo enter.

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 youReceived but sorry treatment at the handsOf Princess Zeolide. They told me, too,That your betrothal might ere long collapse;(With extreme modesty) So thought I, as I am beyond disputeThe fairest maid for many a mile around—And as, moreover, I possess the giftOf feigning an enchanting innocence,I possibly may captivate the prince,And fill the place once filled by Zeolide.(Sits; her ankle is exposed.)

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 furnitureHas caught your dress.

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 beautifulMy foot and ankle are (as if much shocked at the exposé).

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.

Phil.I saw them well,

They’re very neat.

Azèma.I now remove my gloveThat you may note the whiteness of my hand.I place it there in order that you mayBe tempted to inclose it in your own.

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.)

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 waistAnd kiss me. (Struggling to release herself)

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 showOf indignation, just in order toMaintain my character for innocence—But that is all.

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!

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 PalmsAt ten o’clock to-night. I mention thisThat you may take the hint and be there, too! (going.)

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!

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 implyThat I have cherished any such design?

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!

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!

EnterChrysal.

Oh, sir, I crave a word with you!Are you a wealthy man? (with extreme delicacy of manner.)

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.

Chrys.A bachelor as yet,

Betrothed to Palmis.

Azèma.(shrinking).Oh! (Hopefully.) But possiblyYou do not love her much!

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 toChrysal, 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!

Azèma.You’ll do—give me your arm. (He does so—she shrinks.)

Oh, sir, indeed—

(Impatiently toChrysal, 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!

[ExeuntChrysalandAzèma,—Azèmaaffecting to try and release herself.Philamirstands astounded for a moment.

Phil.I’ve found a clew that solves these mysteries!This palace is enchanted ground! It’s plainThat there’s some subtle influence at work,Affecting everybody here—but me!Chrysal, the honey-tongued, turns out to beA 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 ZeolideBecomes 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 lightThat all may see their arrant hollowness!It’s evident there’s some enchantment hereThat 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.

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.

EnterMirza.

Mirza.(starts). I beg your pardon. I was looking forMy diary; I’ve dropped it hereabouts.

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 diaryMust ne’er be seen by other eyes than mine!

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.

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 thoughtThat all the world may not participate?I’ll not believe 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 learntThat this is fairy ground, where every oneIs bound, against his will, to speak the truth.If you interrogate me, I am boundTo answer truly. I need say no moreTo such a courteous knight as Philamir.

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!

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 sinceTo 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 IAm unaffected by this magic power.

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?

Mirza.You do not love the Princess Zeolide?

You who professed unutterable love?

Phil.I liked her well enough at first, but nowI’m weary of my liking. She displaysSo much unreasonable petulance,Such causeless anger—such unbridled wrath,That I’m resolved to break the weary linkThat binds us. I’ll be free to love again. (TakingMirza’shand)

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. (TakingMirza’shand)

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, shameTo blight so true a heart as hers! Oh, fool,To throw aside in wrath so fair a prize!

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 loveyou!

Phil.But listen—I’ve a fairer prize in view.

Mirza—I loveyou!

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?

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!(Philamirpauses, struggling with his feelings.)

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!

(Philamirpauses, struggling with his feelings.)

Phil.(releasing her). My Lady Mirza, you are free to go.[ExitMirzahastily.How subtly works the mystic influence,That all seem subject to,—excepting me!And from the fearful ordeal only oneOf 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 knowThat she is mortal—that I knew before.To know that Mirza’s worthy of my love,And that, despite the searching influenceThat I alone resist—oh, this indeedIs happiness!—I’m sure she loves me well!

Phil.(releasing her). My Lady Mirza, you are free to go.

[ExitMirzahastily.

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!

EnterZeolide.

Zeo.Indeed she does! If half-an-hour agoShe spoke abruptly to her Philamir,She bitterly repents it. Oh, my love,Forgive me, for in truth I love you well!

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.

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!

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 seenHow readily I fell into the trap;Let that content you. There—I’m not annoyed—I’ll not be caught again!

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 whenYou left me in unwarrantable rage.I love the Lady Mirza—she loves me.

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 sayShe did not tell me so in open words;Her love for you restrained her. She’s too good—Too pure—too honorable—to allowA passion for her dearest friend’s betrothedTo master her. You should have heard her pleadYour hopeless cause. She struggles with her love,And tries to keep it down—but still she loves.

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 wishThat I could find sufficient argumentTo justify me in releasing you. (She shrinks from him.)Why now you frown again! Oh, Zeolide,This willfulness is insupportable!

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 spokeIn 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 hoursThat 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 nightI’ll seek my father, and I’ll gain from himThe 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).

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).

EnterPalmis.

Palmis.What? Zeolide in tears? Has PhilamirBeen too emphatic in his vows of love?Have pity on him!

Palmis.What? Zeolide in tears? Has Philamir

Been too emphatic in his vows of love?

Have pity on him!

Zeo.Palmis, pityme—He loves me not!

Zeo.Palmis, pityme—

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!

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!

EnterChrysalandAzèma—he leavesAzèmaabruptly on seeingPalmis.

Palmis.Why, Chrysal, who is this? Where have you been?

Chrys.(affectionately).I have been wandering through shady grovesWith that exceedingly attractive girl.

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.

Chrys.(putting his arm round her waist). Exceedingly!

I always do when I’m away from you.

Palmis.(toAzèma). Oh, you’re a brazen woman!

Azèma.(with great modesty).That I am!An ordinary every-day coquette,Who lives on admiration, and resolvesTo gain it by whatever means she can.

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 toPalmis).Palmis, there’s some enchantment in this place—I know not what—it influences all.Do not dismiss him yet, until we learnIts nature!

Zeo.(aside toPalmis).

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 trueI never loved you, yet I want your loveBecause you have much influence at Court,And have it in your power to help me onTo further favor.

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?

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 wonThe highest rank your mistress can confer.In the mean time, however, I am fainTo 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!

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.

Palmis.Oh, miserable man!

Go—get you hence, sir.

Chrys.(astonished).Palmis, what on earthPossesses you?

Chrys.(astonished).Palmis, what on earth

Possesses you?

Palmis.Don’t speak to me again,I can’t endure you!

Palmis.Don’t speak to me again,

I can’t endure you!

Re-enterZoram.

Zor.I am glad of this.Dear Palmis, I for many a weary dayHave sought to win your love from Chrysal here,By every mean, contemptible deviceThat my unequaled cunning could suggest.

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 gainYour Palmis’ love, I freely pardon you.

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.

Chrys.(in furious rage). This evening, in the Avenue of Palms,

I shall await you, sir.

Zor.(in blank astonishment). Oh dear, oh dear,WhathaveI said?

Zor.(in blank astonishment). Oh dear, oh dear,

WhathaveI said?

EnterGélanor.

Gélan.Hush, gentlemen—the Queen.

Re-enterQueen Altemirehastily.

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 bestHis daughter did not hear.

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-enterPhanorandMirza.

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!

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 innocenceHas little fear of Palaces of Truth!

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?

Altem.You have been walking in the shrubbery,

What were you doing there?

Phan.(with great show of love forAltemire).Why, making loveTo Mirza. I invariably doWhenever I’ve a chance; but all in vain.She’s a good woman, and despises me.(ToMirza) Haven’t I offered love to you?

Phan.(with great show of love forAltemire).

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.

(ToMirza) Haven’t I offered love to you?

Mirza.You have.

Phan.And you despise me, don’t you?

Mirza.Heartily.

Phan.(toAltemire). I told you so, and she indorses it.Believe me, I am bound to speak the truth!

Phan.(toAltemire). 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?

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?

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!

Chrys.Yes,

Those were the very words!

Phan.Oh, Mirza, come,You can deny this!

Phan.Oh, Mirza, come,

You can deny this!

Mirza.Would, my lord, I could.To spare the Queen I would be silent, butSome unknown power masters me, and makesMe own, against my will, that it was so!

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 toGélanor).Why, Gélanor,How’s this? The talisman is out of gear!(Showing box toGélanor).

Phan.(aside toGélanor).Why, Gélanor,

How’s this? The talisman is out of gear!

(Showing box toGélanor).

Gélan.Let me examine it. (Takes it and returns it.) A forgery!A clever imitation; virtueless!It lacks the small inscription on the hinge!(Phanorfalls breathless into a chair.)

Gélan.Let me examine it. (Takes it and returns it.) A forgery!

A clever imitation; virtueless!

It lacks the small inscription on the hinge!

(Phanorfalls breathless into a chair.)

Phan.To-morrow morning we go home again!

Back to Index Next