ACT · III

ACT · IIIALMEH.O delicateair, invitingThe birth of the sun, to fireThe heavy glooms of the sea with silver laughter:Ye sleepy flowers, that tireIn melting dreams of the day,To splendour disregardful, with sloth awaking;1000Rejoice, rejoice, alway;But why are ye takingMy soul to follow you after,To awake with you, and be joyful in your delighting?Ay me!Enter Zapel from the garden, with a basket of flowers.ZAPEL.Here are thy lilies.Al.’Tis enough of these;I thank thee, Zapel. Now there grows a flowerWild 'neath the castle walls, a yellow roseIt seems, of stubborn habit, branching low;When walking on the ramparts I have seen it,1010And wondered whence it drew its sustenance,In scattered tufts upon the waste sea sand;Go to the gate, and say I sent thee forth;And pluck me blooms, and a young stem of itThat I may plant at home: if it should thrive,It shall be proud I ever looked upon it.Why dost thou laugh? Didst thou not hearken, girl?Za.I heard thee well: Go forth, Zapel, thou saidst;Go where thou wilt, so thou return not soon.Now is the hour prince Ferdinand should come:Lovers would be alone.1020Al.Be sure of this;’Tis my sole comfort to be rid of thee;And when we are back in Fez, I will bestow theeUpon another mistress.Za.If ’tis Fez,I care not. I’ll commend me to the queenThat shall be of Morocco ... why, thou goestThe way to spoil thy fortunes, and dost shameThe suit of a most high and worthy princeBy favouring the Christian.Al.FavouringDar’st thou to say?Za.I say but what I see.1030The infidel is dazzled by thy beauty;And if thou dost not love his flatteries,How is it that thou art found so oft aloneWhere he must walk? that now these three days pastAt break of dawn, ere thou wast used to stirThou must go forth, because the moon is bright,Or dwindling stars should be beheld, or flowersGathered in dew; and I, who must be rousedTo bear thee company, am in haste dismissed,1039Or sent on useless errands, while the princeSteals in my place? If I should say ’twas love....Al.Folly! what folly in thee. And if ’twere true,Should I need thee to tell me?Go fetch my yellow roses.Za.And in time:See here he comes.Al.Begone.Za.Ay, I must go.(Aside.) But I can send another.[Exit.Al.What is it I resent? that others see usIs our life’s evidence: loving as beingNeeds this conviction.Enter Ferdinand.FERDINAND.What, Almeh! thou’rt here?Dost thou indeed await me?Al.Didst thou think1050I should play truant like an idle child,Who when the clock has struck cannot be found,And must be dragged to school?Fer.O nay. But in this world,Where all things move outside our reckoning,To find the least desire hath come to passWill seem a miracle.Al.What is thy desire?What is the miracle?Fer.O beauteous Almeh!If I might call thee Christian!Al.Nay, I know not:But what I have learned makes me desire the name.Fer.Now is the purpose of my expedition1060Revealed: for this I sailed to Africa:For this I was defeated, and for thisBrought captive here. ’Tis thou that art my prize.Al.’Twere a poor prize for so much war: but tell me,How came it thou’rt a soldier?Fer.Thou hast thoughtMy failure shames that title?Al.Nay, I askHow, being a Christian, thou professest arms.Why hast thou come against us, with no pleaSave thy religion, and that happy gospelThou hast trampled on in coming, Peace on earth?1070Fer.Too late to ask. When conscience, like an angel,Stood in the way to bar my setting forth,Zeal and ambition blinded me; tho’yetAgainst the voice of them that urged me onThere lacked not prodigies of heaven to stay me.For as we sailed from Lisbon, all the hostThat lined the shore with banners and gay music,Was changed before my eyes to funeral trainsOf black and weeping mourners, who with wailsAnd screams affrighted us. The sun in heaven1080Turned to blood-red, and doleful mists of greyShut us in darkness, while the sucking ebbDragged us to doom. And here now that I standIn the rebuke of judgment, I have no pleaSave that I suffer: unless thou be foundMy unsought prize.Al.Thou missest the conclusion,Considering but thyself, not those thou hast wronged.Thou must surrender Ceuta: ’tis a debtTo justice and to peace: my father’s honour.Thy duty towards thy wretched countrymen,1090And thine own freedom—Fer.Let no words between usBe spoke in vain, as these words now must be.Al.Were thy words true, my words were not in vain.Fer.Lady, were Ceuta mine, had my sword won it,Thy words might move, though not thy father’s threats.Al.I hear the gate: some one comes forth. I prayRetire, ere we be seen.[Exeunt R.Enter Sala and Tarudante.SALA.I owe him life, your highness, and would stake itA thousand times upon his princely worth.As are his manners, you shall find his honour.I will go fetch him.TARUDANTE.1100Stay, I understandSomething, and know that now he is in the groundsWith the princess alone. Go if thou wilt.Assure thyself: I need to see no more.Sa.Await me here then while I go. I pray theeJudge not so hastily.Tar.I judge not hastily.Sa.Then wait me here.Tar.I wait for no man, Sala;Save out of courtesy; in which I hopeI have not lacked hitherto.Sa.You have rather set usIn everlasting debt.Tar.Speak not of that.1110Sa.Then mock not our repayment.Tar.Look you, Sala;I understand to seize a prize by force,Or kindly take a gift, but not to sue.Sa.Yet women must be wooed.Tar.Ay, that’s a game:But if ’tis more than play, I’ve no mind for it.Patch up the matter as you can. For me,I cry To horse.Sa.Wait but a moment longer;I will fetch Ferdinand. (Aside.) To have two rivals,Tho’both be princes, may be better yetThan to have only one.[Exit.Tar.By heaven, they trifle with me, and by waiting1121I allow it; cherishing an idle softnessThat fools me to take slights, yet cannot sootheMy pride to competition. Nay, nor would IRob grey-haired Sala of it, if he has dreamedHis heirs shall reign in Fez.... But the infidel—How should the general countenance him,—altho’There be some tie of chivalry between them?A riddle it is; a riddle I leave it. NowTo save engagèd honour I must feign1130Some exigency. I will go warn my menThat they break camp at sunrise. In three daysAll is forgotten.[Exit.Re-enter Sala with Ferdinand.Fer.He is not here.Sa.’Tis well.Fer.What wouldst thou, Sala?Sa.For thy safety, prince,And for my honour both, accept the terms,And go hence while thou mayst.Fer.Now spare thy words;For I am firm.Sa.Then if thou close the door,Thou must o’erleap the wall.Fer.What mean’st thou?Sa.Fly.Feign sickness. I will let thee forth to-night.1139Thou shalt be safe beyond pursuit to-morrow,While yet ’tis thought thou keep’st thy chamber.Fer.Nay.Sa.As men will risk their lives to save their lives,Risk thou thine honour now to save thine honour,—Ay, and thy life. ’Tis looked for of no manTo make his tongue his executioner;Nor any hath this right, to bind his brotherTo die when it shall please him.Fer.O honest Sala,We wrong thee much in Spain: there art thou deemedA heartless soldier; not a bloody taleThat would pass current, but usurps thy name:Men curse by thee.1150Sa.I pray you now return,And disabuse your friends.Fer.Ay, that and moreWhen I return.Sa.Thou never wilt return,Unless thou fly at once.Fer.Tell me the worst.Sa.What think you, should I slay you with these hands?Fer.Thou, Sala! why?Sa.I spake not empty words.Fer.Their darkness is to me as emptiness.Sa.By heaven, I would not now unseal my lips,But I know him I speak to, and my speechShall win thee. Hark, I have been for twenty years1160Familiar with the king, one of his house;I have known the princess Almeh from her cradle:Her father’s only child, she hath been to meMy single joy no less: from the first wordsShe lisped upon my knee, unto this day,Her sayings and doings have been still the eventsWhich measured time to me: her childish ways,Her growth, well-being, happiness, were mine,Part of my life. Whene’er I have been awayOn distant service, the same couriers1170That carried my despatches to the king,Returned to me with tidings of the child,Writ for my use, the careful chronicleOf prattle, with whatever pretty messageShe had devised to send me: as she grewI watched her, taught her, was her friend; and whileI trod in blood, and heard the mortal gaspOf foes my scimitar struck down to hell,I suffered nothing to approach my soulBut what might too be hers. Sala is stern,1180Men say, and register my actions bluntlyTo common qualities,—I serve my ageIn such a tedious practice,—but in truthSala is gentle as the tend’rest plantThat noonday withers, or the night frosts pinch.I tell thee what I would not dare tell any,Lest he should smile at me, and I should slay him:I tell it thee, knowing thou wilt not smile.Now late it happed that I returned to FezAfter some longer absence than was wont;1190And looking still to meet the child I left,I found her not. She had made a dizzy flightFrom prettiest to fairest. Slow-working timeHad leapt in a miracle: ere one could say,From being a child suddenly she was a woman,Changed beyond hope, to me past hope unchanged.Maybe thou hast never tasted, prince, this sorrow,When fortune smiling upon those we loveRemoves them from our reach—when we awakeTo our small reckoning in the circumstance1200We are grown to lean on.—Cursèd be the dayWhereon we met: or would thou hadst slain me there—My wrongs are worse than death.Fer.How! can it be?Tell me but truth. Art thou my rival, Sala?Thou art: thou art. Yet ’twas thyself deceived me.Thou’st ever spoken of her as of a daughter.Forgive me, Sala; thy familiarityAnd thy years blinded me. If, ere I cameHer heart was thine, and I by pity’s softnessHave stolen the passion that was thine before,1210Now by mine honour I will do thy bidding:If ’tis the only way, I’ll fly to-night.Thy word, and I will fly. Were ye betrothed?Sa.Nay, prince ...Fer.Nay?... Yet if not betrothed, maybeAlmeh hath loved thee, shewn thee preference,Some promise ...Sa.Nay.Fer.Then, Sala, in plain words,How have I wronged thee? what can be the causeWhy thou didst threat to kill me?Sa.I said not that.Fer.Esteem’st thou then a prince of PortugalSo much less than Morocco? ...Sa.Dream’st thou the kingWould wed his daughter to ...1220Fer.An infidel,Thou’dst say.Sa.Is’t not impossible?Fer.’Twould seemNo miracle to me shouldst thou thyselfTurn Christian.Sa.By Allah! Hush! here is the king. Begone,Lest my goodwill to thee be more suspectedThan it deserve.Fer.I’ll speak with thee again.[Exit.Sa.(solus). I have shot my best bolt forth, and missed my aim.Enter King.KING.Sala, what dost thou here? I sent for thee.Sa.No message, sire, hath reached me.K.I am come myselfTo find thee; I need thy counsel, and I desire1230Thou wilt put off the manner of advisers,Who affect disapprobation of whateverIs done without their sanction; in which humourThou hast looked grudgingly upon the marriage’Twixt Almeh and Morocco.Sa.My dislikeHath better ground.K.Whate’er it be, I bid theePut thy dislike aside: the business threatensTo fail without our aid.Sa.How so?K.The princeHath been with us five days: ’tis now full timeHe spoke his mind; and yet he hath said no word.1240Sa.Well, sire?K.The cause: I’ll tell thee first my thoughts.Sa.The fancy of a maid is as the air—Light, uncontrollable.K.What dream is this?’Tis not her liking that I count. The dayThat Tarudante asks her she is his:’Tis that he doth not ask.—I have myself perceivedA melancholy habit that hath comeUpon my daughter of late, and grows apace.I thought awhile ’twas love, but now I fear’Tis a deep disaffection: such behaviour,1250So foreign to her years, might well repelSo fine a lover.Sa.That is not the cause.K.I say it is. I have watched her with the princeNow for two days, and marked in her behaviourIndifference and abstraction.Sa.And if ’tis so?K.Find some device to drive these humours off.Did I but know, could we discover, Sala,What lies the nearest to her heart, a promptAnd unforeseen indulgence would restoreHer spirit to cheerfulness.Sa.(aside).Now here is hope.1260If I could work him to my purpose now.K.What say’st thou?Sa.Sire, the sufferings of the captivesFirst hurt your daughter’s spirit. Would you heal it,Release them.K.Eh! Wellah! I think thou’rt right.Twice hath she knelt before me for these men:I had never thought of it.Sa.(aside).Heaven give my tonguePersuasion.K.I’ll do it, Sala: ’tis worth the price.Sa.There is yet one captive whom you cannot free.K.Who’s he?Sa.The prince.K.He counts not with the rest.Sa.Nay, since his wrong and claim stand above all.K.Thou art pleading for thyself, Sala: thou knowestI hold the prince for Ceuta.1271Sa.So, sire; for neverWill you hold Ceuta for the prince. You askedMy advice: you have it. Where my honour weighed not,Nor my long service finds me any favour,Suspect not I would use a lady’s tears:Tho’true it be, the grief that Almeh feltHath been tenfold increased, since the good princeWho gave me life was asked to buy his own.K.But if I free the rest and keep the prince?1280Sa.A stinted favour brings no gladness. YetYou could not more, you cannot, nay you are pledged.K.Hark, Sala: I care not if he live or die.Did I not offer him his libertyOn a condition? Since to win MoroccoIs to have Ceuta, I may change my terms,And use him for that purpose, tho’it standOne remove from my object: and I seeHow I can make a bargain. Fetch my daughter,For the same day she marries Tarudante1290The prince and all the captives shall be hers:And she shall know it. Send her hither.Sa.I go.(Aside.) Yet the condition mars the gift for all.[Exit Sala.K.Nay, he shall not dissuade me. ’Twas good counselSlipped from him unawares; and tho’I sworeTo keep the prince till he surrendered Ceuta,That oath turned ’gainst myself I will cast o’er,Making his liberty my tool; and whatSelf-interest persuades I’ll do with grace.—That men are strong or weak, foolish or wise,1300According to the judgment of their fellows,Is doctrine for the multitude. For meI would possess my wisdom as my health,In verity, not semblance.Re-enter Almeh.Al.My father sent for me?K.Come hither, Almeh.I have news for thee.Al.Good news?K.Thou shalt say good.Guess.Al.There hath something happened?K.Something shall be.Al.Is it peace with Portugal?K.Nay, not so far.Al.Tell me.K.The Christian captives.Al.Dare I guessThey may go free?K.’Tis that.Al.O kindest father,Thou healest my heart, that hath the chief enlargement1311In this deliverance. If they know it not,May I go tell them?K.Stay. There’s one condition.It lies with thee to fix the day.Al.With me?I say to-day.K.Thou canst not say to-day.Al.How soon?K.’Tis thus. I make their libertyA gift to thee the day thou shalt be marriedTo Tarudante.Al.Ah!K.The smile that cameSo quickly to thy face hath fled again.Is the condition hard?Al.’Tis like denial.K.Denial!1320Al.To do the thing I never wished,And if I wished lies not in me to do.K.Thou dost not wish, sayst thou? It lies not in thee?Al.’Tis true I do not wish this marriage, sire.K.Well, well. To wish to leave thy home and meWere undesired: but to obey my will,To trust thy welfare to my guidance, girl;Not to oppose my dictates....Al.Truly, father,I have found as little occasion to oppose,1329As I have power to stand against thy will.K.I know it, child: but for that hold thee to blame:Thou hast not wished: ’tis in thy power to wish.Marriage thou dost not wish: but thou must wishWhat is my will; which to make more thine ownI add this boon. Was’t not thy chief desire?Dost thou not thank me?Al.Alas....K.’Tis no small gift, the lives of fifty men.Al.Tell me, sire; with the captives dost thou reckonPrince Ferdinand of Portugal?K.I knewThou wouldst ask this, and am content to grant it.1340See how I yield. I will go fetch thy lover:Be ready to receive him: what thou dostRuleth his happiness as well as mine,And theirs whose life I give thee. Await him here.[Going.Al.Stay, father, stay!K.Well, child!Al.(aside).It cannot be:I dare not tell—K.What wouldst thou say?Al.I know not.I have not well understood; not yet considered.K.What is there to consider?Al.Dost thou promiseThe Christian captives and prince FerdinandShall all, the day I am married, be set free?K.I do.1350Al.And if I marry not Morocco,What is their fate?K.They die; unless the princeSurrender Ceuta to me.Al.O sire, the princeSpared Sala’s life: thou owest as much to him:Thou mayst not kill him.K.See, if that’s a scruple,How thou mayst gratify thyself and Sala.I put this in thy power. Canst not thou thank me,And smile on Tarudante?Al.I thank thee, sire.If I seemed not to thank thee, ’twas the effectOf suddenness, nothing but suddenness.I am glad to do it.1360K.I knew thou wouldst be glad.I shall go fetch thy lover. I shall not grudgeThese hogs for him.[Exit.Al.Death, said he? He would slay him!My gentlest prince! O bloody spirit of war,That hast no ear where any pitiful pleaMight dare to knock.—Alas, my dismal blindness!I am but as others are, selfish, O selfish,That thought myself in converse with the skies;So shamed, so small in spirit. What is my love,My yesterday’s desire, but death to him?1370And what to me? What but an empty fancyNursed against reason? which I cling to nowIn spite of duty. Duty ... Ah, I rememberI had a childish fondness for that name,Dreamed I would serve God willingly. But now,Now ’tis impossible.... Now if I serve,I do his bidding with unwilling will;Yet must I do it.

ALMEH.

O delicateair, invitingThe birth of the sun, to fireThe heavy glooms of the sea with silver laughter:Ye sleepy flowers, that tireIn melting dreams of the day,To splendour disregardful, with sloth awaking;1000Rejoice, rejoice, alway;But why are ye takingMy soul to follow you after,To awake with you, and be joyful in your delighting?Ay me!

O delicateair, inviting

The birth of the sun, to fire

The heavy glooms of the sea with silver laughter:

Ye sleepy flowers, that tire

In melting dreams of the day,

To splendour disregardful, with sloth awaking;

Rejoice, rejoice, alway;

But why are ye taking

My soul to follow you after,

To awake with you, and be joyful in your delighting?

Ay me!

Enter Zapel from the garden, with a basket of flowers.

ZAPEL.

Here are thy lilies.

Al.’Tis enough of these;I thank thee, Zapel. Now there grows a flowerWild 'neath the castle walls, a yellow roseIt seems, of stubborn habit, branching low;When walking on the ramparts I have seen it,1010And wondered whence it drew its sustenance,In scattered tufts upon the waste sea sand;Go to the gate, and say I sent thee forth;And pluck me blooms, and a young stem of itThat I may plant at home: if it should thrive,It shall be proud I ever looked upon it.Why dost thou laugh? Didst thou not hearken, girl?

Al.’Tis enough of these;

I thank thee, Zapel. Now there grows a flower

Wild 'neath the castle walls, a yellow rose

It seems, of stubborn habit, branching low;

When walking on the ramparts I have seen it,

And wondered whence it drew its sustenance,

In scattered tufts upon the waste sea sand;

Go to the gate, and say I sent thee forth;

And pluck me blooms, and a young stem of it

That I may plant at home: if it should thrive,

It shall be proud I ever looked upon it.

Why dost thou laugh? Didst thou not hearken, girl?

Za.I heard thee well: Go forth, Zapel, thou saidst;Go where thou wilt, so thou return not soon.Now is the hour prince Ferdinand should come:Lovers would be alone.

Za.I heard thee well: Go forth, Zapel, thou saidst;

Go where thou wilt, so thou return not soon.

Now is the hour prince Ferdinand should come:

Lovers would be alone.

1020Al.Be sure of this;’Tis my sole comfort to be rid of thee;And when we are back in Fez, I will bestow theeUpon another mistress.

Al.Be sure of this;

’Tis my sole comfort to be rid of thee;

And when we are back in Fez, I will bestow thee

Upon another mistress.

Za.If ’tis Fez,I care not. I’ll commend me to the queenThat shall be of Morocco ... why, thou goestThe way to spoil thy fortunes, and dost shameThe suit of a most high and worthy princeBy favouring the Christian.

Za.If ’tis Fez,

I care not. I’ll commend me to the queen

That shall be of Morocco ... why, thou goest

The way to spoil thy fortunes, and dost shame

The suit of a most high and worthy prince

By favouring the Christian.

Al.FavouringDar’st thou to say?

Al.Favouring

Dar’st thou to say?

Za.I say but what I see.1030The infidel is dazzled by thy beauty;And if thou dost not love his flatteries,How is it that thou art found so oft aloneWhere he must walk? that now these three days pastAt break of dawn, ere thou wast used to stirThou must go forth, because the moon is bright,Or dwindling stars should be beheld, or flowersGathered in dew; and I, who must be rousedTo bear thee company, am in haste dismissed,1039Or sent on useless errands, while the princeSteals in my place? If I should say ’twas love....

Za.I say but what I see.

The infidel is dazzled by thy beauty;

And if thou dost not love his flatteries,

How is it that thou art found so oft alone

Where he must walk? that now these three days past

At break of dawn, ere thou wast used to stir

Thou must go forth, because the moon is bright,

Or dwindling stars should be beheld, or flowers

Gathered in dew; and I, who must be roused

To bear thee company, am in haste dismissed,

Or sent on useless errands, while the prince

Steals in my place? If I should say ’twas love....

Al.Folly! what folly in thee. And if ’twere true,Should I need thee to tell me?Go fetch my yellow roses.

Al.Folly! what folly in thee. And if ’twere true,

Should I need thee to tell me?

Go fetch my yellow roses.

Za.And in time:See here he comes.

Za.And in time:

See here he comes.

Al.Begone.

Za.Ay, I must go.(Aside.) But I can send another.[Exit.

Za.Ay, I must go.

(Aside.) But I can send another.[Exit.

Al.What is it I resent? that others see usIs our life’s evidence: loving as beingNeeds this conviction.

Al.What is it I resent? that others see us

Is our life’s evidence: loving as being

Needs this conviction.

Enter Ferdinand.

FERDINAND.

What, Almeh! thou’rt here?Dost thou indeed await me?

What, Almeh! thou’rt here?

Dost thou indeed await me?

Al.Didst thou think1050I should play truant like an idle child,Who when the clock has struck cannot be found,And must be dragged to school?

Al.Didst thou think

I should play truant like an idle child,

Who when the clock has struck cannot be found,

And must be dragged to school?

Fer.O nay. But in this world,Where all things move outside our reckoning,To find the least desire hath come to passWill seem a miracle.

Fer.O nay. But in this world,

Where all things move outside our reckoning,

To find the least desire hath come to pass

Will seem a miracle.

Al.What is thy desire?What is the miracle?

Al.What is thy desire?

What is the miracle?

Fer.O beauteous Almeh!If I might call thee Christian!

Fer.O beauteous Almeh!

If I might call thee Christian!

Al.Nay, I know not:But what I have learned makes me desire the name.

Al.Nay, I know not:

But what I have learned makes me desire the name.

Fer.Now is the purpose of my expedition1060Revealed: for this I sailed to Africa:For this I was defeated, and for thisBrought captive here. ’Tis thou that art my prize.

Fer.Now is the purpose of my expedition

Revealed: for this I sailed to Africa:

For this I was defeated, and for this

Brought captive here. ’Tis thou that art my prize.

Al.’Twere a poor prize for so much war: but tell me,How came it thou’rt a soldier?

Al.’Twere a poor prize for so much war: but tell me,

How came it thou’rt a soldier?

Fer.Thou hast thoughtMy failure shames that title?

Fer.Thou hast thought

My failure shames that title?

Al.Nay, I askHow, being a Christian, thou professest arms.Why hast thou come against us, with no pleaSave thy religion, and that happy gospelThou hast trampled on in coming, Peace on earth?

Al.Nay, I ask

How, being a Christian, thou professest arms.

Why hast thou come against us, with no plea

Save thy religion, and that happy gospel

Thou hast trampled on in coming, Peace on earth?

1070Fer.Too late to ask. When conscience, like an angel,Stood in the way to bar my setting forth,Zeal and ambition blinded me; tho’yetAgainst the voice of them that urged me onThere lacked not prodigies of heaven to stay me.For as we sailed from Lisbon, all the hostThat lined the shore with banners and gay music,Was changed before my eyes to funeral trainsOf black and weeping mourners, who with wailsAnd screams affrighted us. The sun in heaven1080Turned to blood-red, and doleful mists of greyShut us in darkness, while the sucking ebbDragged us to doom. And here now that I standIn the rebuke of judgment, I have no pleaSave that I suffer: unless thou be foundMy unsought prize.

Fer.Too late to ask. When conscience, like an angel,

Stood in the way to bar my setting forth,

Zeal and ambition blinded me; tho’yet

Against the voice of them that urged me on

There lacked not prodigies of heaven to stay me.

For as we sailed from Lisbon, all the host

That lined the shore with banners and gay music,

Was changed before my eyes to funeral trains

Of black and weeping mourners, who with wails

And screams affrighted us. The sun in heaven

Turned to blood-red, and doleful mists of grey

Shut us in darkness, while the sucking ebb

Dragged us to doom. And here now that I stand

In the rebuke of judgment, I have no plea

Save that I suffer: unless thou be found

My unsought prize.

Al.Thou missest the conclusion,Considering but thyself, not those thou hast wronged.Thou must surrender Ceuta: ’tis a debtTo justice and to peace: my father’s honour.Thy duty towards thy wretched countrymen,1090And thine own freedom—

Al.Thou missest the conclusion,

Considering but thyself, not those thou hast wronged.

Thou must surrender Ceuta: ’tis a debt

To justice and to peace: my father’s honour.

Thy duty towards thy wretched countrymen,

And thine own freedom—

Fer.Let no words between usBe spoke in vain, as these words now must be.

Fer.Let no words between us

Be spoke in vain, as these words now must be.

Al.Were thy words true, my words were not in vain.

Fer.Lady, were Ceuta mine, had my sword won it,Thy words might move, though not thy father’s threats.

Fer.Lady, were Ceuta mine, had my sword won it,

Thy words might move, though not thy father’s threats.

Al.I hear the gate: some one comes forth. I prayRetire, ere we be seen.[Exeunt R.

Al.I hear the gate: some one comes forth. I pray

Retire, ere we be seen.[Exeunt R.

Enter Sala and Tarudante.

SALA.

I owe him life, your highness, and would stake itA thousand times upon his princely worth.As are his manners, you shall find his honour.I will go fetch him.

I owe him life, your highness, and would stake it

A thousand times upon his princely worth.

As are his manners, you shall find his honour.

I will go fetch him.

TARUDANTE.

1100Stay, I understandSomething, and know that now he is in the groundsWith the princess alone. Go if thou wilt.Assure thyself: I need to see no more.

Stay, I understand

Something, and know that now he is in the grounds

With the princess alone. Go if thou wilt.

Assure thyself: I need to see no more.

Sa.Await me here then while I go. I pray theeJudge not so hastily.

Sa.Await me here then while I go. I pray thee

Judge not so hastily.

Tar.I judge not hastily.

Sa.Then wait me here.

Tar.I wait for no man, Sala;Save out of courtesy; in which I hopeI have not lacked hitherto.

Tar.I wait for no man, Sala;

Save out of courtesy; in which I hope

I have not lacked hitherto.

Sa.You have rather set usIn everlasting debt.

Sa.You have rather set us

In everlasting debt.

Tar.Speak not of that.

1110Sa.Then mock not our repayment.

Sa.Then mock not our repayment.

Tar.Look you, Sala;I understand to seize a prize by force,Or kindly take a gift, but not to sue.

Tar.Look you, Sala;

I understand to seize a prize by force,

Or kindly take a gift, but not to sue.

Sa.Yet women must be wooed.

Tar.Ay, that’s a game:But if ’tis more than play, I’ve no mind for it.Patch up the matter as you can. For me,I cry To horse.

Tar.Ay, that’s a game:

But if ’tis more than play, I’ve no mind for it.

Patch up the matter as you can. For me,

I cry To horse.

Sa.Wait but a moment longer;I will fetch Ferdinand. (Aside.) To have two rivals,Tho’both be princes, may be better yetThan to have only one.[Exit.

Sa.Wait but a moment longer;

I will fetch Ferdinand. (Aside.) To have two rivals,

Tho’both be princes, may be better yet

Than to have only one.[Exit.

Tar.By heaven, they trifle with me, and by waiting1121I allow it; cherishing an idle softnessThat fools me to take slights, yet cannot sootheMy pride to competition. Nay, nor would IRob grey-haired Sala of it, if he has dreamedHis heirs shall reign in Fez.... But the infidel—How should the general countenance him,—altho’There be some tie of chivalry between them?A riddle it is; a riddle I leave it. NowTo save engagèd honour I must feign1130Some exigency. I will go warn my menThat they break camp at sunrise. In three daysAll is forgotten.[Exit.

Tar.By heaven, they trifle with me, and by waiting

I allow it; cherishing an idle softness

That fools me to take slights, yet cannot soothe

My pride to competition. Nay, nor would I

Rob grey-haired Sala of it, if he has dreamed

His heirs shall reign in Fez.... But the infidel—

How should the general countenance him,—altho’

There be some tie of chivalry between them?

A riddle it is; a riddle I leave it. Now

To save engagèd honour I must feign

Some exigency. I will go warn my men

That they break camp at sunrise. In three days

All is forgotten.[Exit.

Re-enter Sala with Ferdinand.

Fer.He is not here.

Sa.’Tis well.

Fer.What wouldst thou, Sala?

Sa.For thy safety, prince,And for my honour both, accept the terms,And go hence while thou mayst.

Sa.For thy safety, prince,

And for my honour both, accept the terms,

And go hence while thou mayst.

Fer.Now spare thy words;For I am firm.

Fer.Now spare thy words;

For I am firm.

Sa.Then if thou close the door,Thou must o’erleap the wall.

Sa.Then if thou close the door,

Thou must o’erleap the wall.

Fer.What mean’st thou?

Sa.Fly.Feign sickness. I will let thee forth to-night.1139Thou shalt be safe beyond pursuit to-morrow,While yet ’tis thought thou keep’st thy chamber.

Sa.Fly.

Feign sickness. I will let thee forth to-night.

Thou shalt be safe beyond pursuit to-morrow,

While yet ’tis thought thou keep’st thy chamber.

Fer.Nay.

Sa.As men will risk their lives to save their lives,Risk thou thine honour now to save thine honour,—Ay, and thy life. ’Tis looked for of no manTo make his tongue his executioner;Nor any hath this right, to bind his brotherTo die when it shall please him.

Sa.As men will risk their lives to save their lives,

Risk thou thine honour now to save thine honour,—

Ay, and thy life. ’Tis looked for of no man

To make his tongue his executioner;

Nor any hath this right, to bind his brother

To die when it shall please him.

Fer.O honest Sala,We wrong thee much in Spain: there art thou deemedA heartless soldier; not a bloody taleThat would pass current, but usurps thy name:Men curse by thee.

Fer.O honest Sala,

We wrong thee much in Spain: there art thou deemed

A heartless soldier; not a bloody tale

That would pass current, but usurps thy name:

Men curse by thee.

1150Sa.I pray you now return,And disabuse your friends.

Sa.I pray you now return,

And disabuse your friends.

Fer.Ay, that and moreWhen I return.

Fer.Ay, that and more

When I return.

Sa.Thou never wilt return,Unless thou fly at once.

Sa.Thou never wilt return,

Unless thou fly at once.

Fer.Tell me the worst.

Sa.What think you, should I slay you with these hands?

Fer.Thou, Sala! why?

Sa.I spake not empty words.

Fer.Their darkness is to me as emptiness.

Sa.By heaven, I would not now unseal my lips,But I know him I speak to, and my speechShall win thee. Hark, I have been for twenty years1160Familiar with the king, one of his house;I have known the princess Almeh from her cradle:Her father’s only child, she hath been to meMy single joy no less: from the first wordsShe lisped upon my knee, unto this day,Her sayings and doings have been still the eventsWhich measured time to me: her childish ways,Her growth, well-being, happiness, were mine,Part of my life. Whene’er I have been awayOn distant service, the same couriers1170That carried my despatches to the king,Returned to me with tidings of the child,Writ for my use, the careful chronicleOf prattle, with whatever pretty messageShe had devised to send me: as she grewI watched her, taught her, was her friend; and whileI trod in blood, and heard the mortal gaspOf foes my scimitar struck down to hell,I suffered nothing to approach my soulBut what might too be hers. Sala is stern,1180Men say, and register my actions bluntlyTo common qualities,—I serve my ageIn such a tedious practice,—but in truthSala is gentle as the tend’rest plantThat noonday withers, or the night frosts pinch.I tell thee what I would not dare tell any,Lest he should smile at me, and I should slay him:I tell it thee, knowing thou wilt not smile.Now late it happed that I returned to FezAfter some longer absence than was wont;1190And looking still to meet the child I left,I found her not. She had made a dizzy flightFrom prettiest to fairest. Slow-working timeHad leapt in a miracle: ere one could say,From being a child suddenly she was a woman,Changed beyond hope, to me past hope unchanged.Maybe thou hast never tasted, prince, this sorrow,When fortune smiling upon those we loveRemoves them from our reach—when we awakeTo our small reckoning in the circumstance1200We are grown to lean on.—Cursèd be the dayWhereon we met: or would thou hadst slain me there—My wrongs are worse than death.

Sa.By heaven, I would not now unseal my lips,

But I know him I speak to, and my speech

Shall win thee. Hark, I have been for twenty years

Familiar with the king, one of his house;

I have known the princess Almeh from her cradle:

Her father’s only child, she hath been to me

My single joy no less: from the first words

She lisped upon my knee, unto this day,

Her sayings and doings have been still the events

Which measured time to me: her childish ways,

Her growth, well-being, happiness, were mine,

Part of my life. Whene’er I have been away

On distant service, the same couriers

That carried my despatches to the king,

Returned to me with tidings of the child,

Writ for my use, the careful chronicle

Of prattle, with whatever pretty message

She had devised to send me: as she grew

I watched her, taught her, was her friend; and while

I trod in blood, and heard the mortal gasp

Of foes my scimitar struck down to hell,

I suffered nothing to approach my soul

But what might too be hers. Sala is stern,

Men say, and register my actions bluntly

To common qualities,—I serve my age

In such a tedious practice,—but in truth

Sala is gentle as the tend’rest plant

That noonday withers, or the night frosts pinch.

I tell thee what I would not dare tell any,

Lest he should smile at me, and I should slay him:

I tell it thee, knowing thou wilt not smile.

Now late it happed that I returned to Fez

After some longer absence than was wont;

And looking still to meet the child I left,

I found her not. She had made a dizzy flight

From prettiest to fairest. Slow-working time

Had leapt in a miracle: ere one could say,

From being a child suddenly she was a woman,

Changed beyond hope, to me past hope unchanged.

Maybe thou hast never tasted, prince, this sorrow,

When fortune smiling upon those we love

Removes them from our reach—when we awake

To our small reckoning in the circumstance

We are grown to lean on.—Cursèd be the day

Whereon we met: or would thou hadst slain me there—

My wrongs are worse than death.

Fer.How! can it be?Tell me but truth. Art thou my rival, Sala?Thou art: thou art. Yet ’twas thyself deceived me.Thou’st ever spoken of her as of a daughter.Forgive me, Sala; thy familiarityAnd thy years blinded me. If, ere I cameHer heart was thine, and I by pity’s softnessHave stolen the passion that was thine before,1210Now by mine honour I will do thy bidding:If ’tis the only way, I’ll fly to-night.Thy word, and I will fly. Were ye betrothed?

Fer.How! can it be?

Tell me but truth. Art thou my rival, Sala?

Thou art: thou art. Yet ’twas thyself deceived me.

Thou’st ever spoken of her as of a daughter.

Forgive me, Sala; thy familiarity

And thy years blinded me. If, ere I came

Her heart was thine, and I by pity’s softness

Have stolen the passion that was thine before,

Now by mine honour I will do thy bidding:

If ’tis the only way, I’ll fly to-night.

Thy word, and I will fly. Were ye betrothed?

Sa.Nay, prince ...

Fer.Nay?... Yet if not betrothed, maybeAlmeh hath loved thee, shewn thee preference,Some promise ...

Fer.Nay?... Yet if not betrothed, maybe

Almeh hath loved thee, shewn thee preference,

Some promise ...

Sa.Nay.

Fer.Then, Sala, in plain words,How have I wronged thee? what can be the causeWhy thou didst threat to kill me?

Fer.Then, Sala, in plain words,

How have I wronged thee? what can be the cause

Why thou didst threat to kill me?

Sa.I said not that.

Fer.Esteem’st thou then a prince of PortugalSo much less than Morocco? ...

Fer.Esteem’st thou then a prince of Portugal

So much less than Morocco? ...

Sa.Dream’st thou the kingWould wed his daughter to ...

Sa.Dream’st thou the king

Would wed his daughter to ...

1220Fer.An infidel,Thou’dst say.

Fer.An infidel,

Thou’dst say.

Sa.Is’t not impossible?

Fer.’Twould seemNo miracle to me shouldst thou thyselfTurn Christian.

Fer.’Twould seem

No miracle to me shouldst thou thyself

Turn Christian.

Sa.By Allah! Hush! here is the king. Begone,Lest my goodwill to thee be more suspectedThan it deserve.

Sa.By Allah! Hush! here is the king. Begone,

Lest my goodwill to thee be more suspected

Than it deserve.

Fer.I’ll speak with thee again.[Exit.

Sa.(solus). I have shot my best bolt forth, and missed my aim.

Enter King.

KING.

Sala, what dost thou here? I sent for thee.

Sa.No message, sire, hath reached me.

K.I am come myselfTo find thee; I need thy counsel, and I desire1230Thou wilt put off the manner of advisers,Who affect disapprobation of whateverIs done without their sanction; in which humourThou hast looked grudgingly upon the marriage’Twixt Almeh and Morocco.

K.I am come myself

To find thee; I need thy counsel, and I desire

Thou wilt put off the manner of advisers,

Who affect disapprobation of whatever

Is done without their sanction; in which humour

Thou hast looked grudgingly upon the marriage

’Twixt Almeh and Morocco.

Sa.My dislikeHath better ground.

Sa.My dislike

Hath better ground.

K.Whate’er it be, I bid theePut thy dislike aside: the business threatensTo fail without our aid.

K.Whate’er it be, I bid thee

Put thy dislike aside: the business threatens

To fail without our aid.

Sa.How so?

K.The princeHath been with us five days: ’tis now full timeHe spoke his mind; and yet he hath said no word.

K.The prince

Hath been with us five days: ’tis now full time

He spoke his mind; and yet he hath said no word.

1240Sa.Well, sire?

Sa.Well, sire?

K.The cause: I’ll tell thee first my thoughts.

Sa.The fancy of a maid is as the air—Light, uncontrollable.

Sa.The fancy of a maid is as the air—

Light, uncontrollable.

K.What dream is this?’Tis not her liking that I count. The dayThat Tarudante asks her she is his:’Tis that he doth not ask.—I have myself perceivedA melancholy habit that hath comeUpon my daughter of late, and grows apace.I thought awhile ’twas love, but now I fear’Tis a deep disaffection: such behaviour,1250So foreign to her years, might well repelSo fine a lover.

K.What dream is this?

’Tis not her liking that I count. The day

That Tarudante asks her she is his:

’Tis that he doth not ask.—I have myself perceived

A melancholy habit that hath come

Upon my daughter of late, and grows apace.

I thought awhile ’twas love, but now I fear

’Tis a deep disaffection: such behaviour,

So foreign to her years, might well repel

So fine a lover.

Sa.That is not the cause.

K.I say it is. I have watched her with the princeNow for two days, and marked in her behaviourIndifference and abstraction.

K.I say it is. I have watched her with the prince

Now for two days, and marked in her behaviour

Indifference and abstraction.

Sa.And if ’tis so?

K.Find some device to drive these humours off.Did I but know, could we discover, Sala,What lies the nearest to her heart, a promptAnd unforeseen indulgence would restoreHer spirit to cheerfulness.

K.Find some device to drive these humours off.

Did I but know, could we discover, Sala,

What lies the nearest to her heart, a prompt

And unforeseen indulgence would restore

Her spirit to cheerfulness.

Sa.(aside).Now here is hope.1260If I could work him to my purpose now.

Sa.(aside).Now here is hope.

If I could work him to my purpose now.

K.What say’st thou?

Sa.Sire, the sufferings of the captivesFirst hurt your daughter’s spirit. Would you heal it,Release them.

Sa.Sire, the sufferings of the captives

First hurt your daughter’s spirit. Would you heal it,

Release them.

K.Eh! Wellah! I think thou’rt right.Twice hath she knelt before me for these men:I had never thought of it.

K.Eh! Wellah! I think thou’rt right.

Twice hath she knelt before me for these men:

I had never thought of it.

Sa.(aside).Heaven give my tonguePersuasion.

Sa.(aside).Heaven give my tongue

Persuasion.

K.I’ll do it, Sala: ’tis worth the price.

Sa.There is yet one captive whom you cannot free.

K.Who’s he?

Sa.The prince.

K.He counts not with the rest.

Sa.Nay, since his wrong and claim stand above all.

K.Thou art pleading for thyself, Sala: thou knowestI hold the prince for Ceuta.

K.Thou art pleading for thyself, Sala: thou knowest

I hold the prince for Ceuta.

1271Sa.So, sire; for neverWill you hold Ceuta for the prince. You askedMy advice: you have it. Where my honour weighed not,Nor my long service finds me any favour,Suspect not I would use a lady’s tears:Tho’true it be, the grief that Almeh feltHath been tenfold increased, since the good princeWho gave me life was asked to buy his own.

Sa.So, sire; for never

Will you hold Ceuta for the prince. You asked

My advice: you have it. Where my honour weighed not,

Nor my long service finds me any favour,

Suspect not I would use a lady’s tears:

Tho’true it be, the grief that Almeh felt

Hath been tenfold increased, since the good prince

Who gave me life was asked to buy his own.

K.But if I free the rest and keep the prince?

1280Sa.A stinted favour brings no gladness. YetYou could not more, you cannot, nay you are pledged.

Sa.A stinted favour brings no gladness. Yet

You could not more, you cannot, nay you are pledged.

K.Hark, Sala: I care not if he live or die.Did I not offer him his libertyOn a condition? Since to win MoroccoIs to have Ceuta, I may change my terms,And use him for that purpose, tho’it standOne remove from my object: and I seeHow I can make a bargain. Fetch my daughter,For the same day she marries Tarudante1290The prince and all the captives shall be hers:And she shall know it. Send her hither.

K.Hark, Sala: I care not if he live or die.

Did I not offer him his liberty

On a condition? Since to win Morocco

Is to have Ceuta, I may change my terms,

And use him for that purpose, tho’it stand

One remove from my object: and I see

How I can make a bargain. Fetch my daughter,

For the same day she marries Tarudante

The prince and all the captives shall be hers:

And she shall know it. Send her hither.

Sa.I go.(Aside.) Yet the condition mars the gift for all.[Exit Sala.

Sa.I go.

(Aside.) Yet the condition mars the gift for all.

[Exit Sala.

K.Nay, he shall not dissuade me. ’Twas good counselSlipped from him unawares; and tho’I sworeTo keep the prince till he surrendered Ceuta,That oath turned ’gainst myself I will cast o’er,Making his liberty my tool; and whatSelf-interest persuades I’ll do with grace.—That men are strong or weak, foolish or wise,1300According to the judgment of their fellows,Is doctrine for the multitude. For meI would possess my wisdom as my health,In verity, not semblance.

K.Nay, he shall not dissuade me. ’Twas good counsel

Slipped from him unawares; and tho’I swore

To keep the prince till he surrendered Ceuta,

That oath turned ’gainst myself I will cast o’er,

Making his liberty my tool; and what

Self-interest persuades I’ll do with grace.—

That men are strong or weak, foolish or wise,

According to the judgment of their fellows,

Is doctrine for the multitude. For me

I would possess my wisdom as my health,

In verity, not semblance.

Re-enter Almeh.

Al.My father sent for me?

K.Come hither, Almeh.I have news for thee.

K.Come hither, Almeh.

I have news for thee.

Al.Good news?

K.Thou shalt say good.Guess.

K.Thou shalt say good.

Guess.

Al.There hath something happened?

K.Something shall be.

Al.Is it peace with Portugal?

K.Nay, not so far.

Al.Tell me.

K.The Christian captives.

Al.Dare I guessThey may go free?

Al.Dare I guess

They may go free?

K.’Tis that.

Al.O kindest father,Thou healest my heart, that hath the chief enlargement1311In this deliverance. If they know it not,May I go tell them?

Al.O kindest father,

Thou healest my heart, that hath the chief enlargement

In this deliverance. If they know it not,

May I go tell them?

K.Stay. There’s one condition.It lies with thee to fix the day.

K.Stay. There’s one condition.

It lies with thee to fix the day.

Al.With me?I say to-day.

Al.With me?

I say to-day.

K.Thou canst not say to-day.

Al.How soon?

K.’Tis thus. I make their libertyA gift to thee the day thou shalt be marriedTo Tarudante.

K.’Tis thus. I make their liberty

A gift to thee the day thou shalt be married

To Tarudante.

Al.Ah!

K.The smile that cameSo quickly to thy face hath fled again.Is the condition hard?

K.The smile that came

So quickly to thy face hath fled again.

Is the condition hard?

Al.’Tis like denial.

K.Denial!

1320Al.To do the thing I never wished,And if I wished lies not in me to do.

Al.To do the thing I never wished,

And if I wished lies not in me to do.

K.Thou dost not wish, sayst thou? It lies not in thee?

Al.’Tis true I do not wish this marriage, sire.

K.Well, well. To wish to leave thy home and meWere undesired: but to obey my will,To trust thy welfare to my guidance, girl;Not to oppose my dictates....

K.Well, well. To wish to leave thy home and me

Were undesired: but to obey my will,

To trust thy welfare to my guidance, girl;

Not to oppose my dictates....

Al.Truly, father,I have found as little occasion to oppose,1329As I have power to stand against thy will.

Al.Truly, father,

I have found as little occasion to oppose,

As I have power to stand against thy will.

K.I know it, child: but for that hold thee to blame:Thou hast not wished: ’tis in thy power to wish.Marriage thou dost not wish: but thou must wishWhat is my will; which to make more thine ownI add this boon. Was’t not thy chief desire?Dost thou not thank me?

K.I know it, child: but for that hold thee to blame:

Thou hast not wished: ’tis in thy power to wish.

Marriage thou dost not wish: but thou must wish

What is my will; which to make more thine own

I add this boon. Was’t not thy chief desire?

Dost thou not thank me?

Al.Alas....

K.’Tis no small gift, the lives of fifty men.

Al.Tell me, sire; with the captives dost thou reckonPrince Ferdinand of Portugal?

Al.Tell me, sire; with the captives dost thou reckon

Prince Ferdinand of Portugal?

K.I knewThou wouldst ask this, and am content to grant it.1340See how I yield. I will go fetch thy lover:Be ready to receive him: what thou dostRuleth his happiness as well as mine,And theirs whose life I give thee. Await him here.

K.I knew

Thou wouldst ask this, and am content to grant it.

See how I yield. I will go fetch thy lover:

Be ready to receive him: what thou dost

Ruleth his happiness as well as mine,

And theirs whose life I give thee. Await him here.

[Going.

Al.Stay, father, stay!

K.Well, child!

Al.(aside).It cannot be:I dare not tell—

Al.(aside).It cannot be:

I dare not tell—

K.What wouldst thou say?

Al.I know not.I have not well understood; not yet considered.

Al.I know not.

I have not well understood; not yet considered.

K.What is there to consider?

Al.Dost thou promiseThe Christian captives and prince FerdinandShall all, the day I am married, be set free?

Al.Dost thou promise

The Christian captives and prince Ferdinand

Shall all, the day I am married, be set free?

K.I do.

1350Al.And if I marry not Morocco,What is their fate?

Al.And if I marry not Morocco,

What is their fate?

K.They die; unless the princeSurrender Ceuta to me.

K.They die; unless the prince

Surrender Ceuta to me.

Al.O sire, the princeSpared Sala’s life: thou owest as much to him:Thou mayst not kill him.

Al.O sire, the prince

Spared Sala’s life: thou owest as much to him:

Thou mayst not kill him.

K.See, if that’s a scruple,How thou mayst gratify thyself and Sala.I put this in thy power. Canst not thou thank me,And smile on Tarudante?

K.See, if that’s a scruple,

How thou mayst gratify thyself and Sala.

I put this in thy power. Canst not thou thank me,

And smile on Tarudante?

Al.I thank thee, sire.If I seemed not to thank thee, ’twas the effectOf suddenness, nothing but suddenness.I am glad to do it.

Al.I thank thee, sire.

If I seemed not to thank thee, ’twas the effect

Of suddenness, nothing but suddenness.

I am glad to do it.

1360K.I knew thou wouldst be glad.I shall go fetch thy lover. I shall not grudgeThese hogs for him.[Exit.

K.I knew thou wouldst be glad.

I shall go fetch thy lover. I shall not grudge

These hogs for him.[Exit.

Al.Death, said he? He would slay him!My gentlest prince! O bloody spirit of war,That hast no ear where any pitiful pleaMight dare to knock.—Alas, my dismal blindness!I am but as others are, selfish, O selfish,That thought myself in converse with the skies;So shamed, so small in spirit. What is my love,My yesterday’s desire, but death to him?1370And what to me? What but an empty fancyNursed against reason? which I cling to nowIn spite of duty. Duty ... Ah, I rememberI had a childish fondness for that name,Dreamed I would serve God willingly. But now,Now ’tis impossible.... Now if I serve,I do his bidding with unwilling will;Yet must I do it.

Al.Death, said he? He would slay him!

My gentlest prince! O bloody spirit of war,

That hast no ear where any pitiful plea

Might dare to knock.—Alas, my dismal blindness!

I am but as others are, selfish, O selfish,

That thought myself in converse with the skies;

So shamed, so small in spirit. What is my love,

My yesterday’s desire, but death to him?

And what to me? What but an empty fancy

Nursed against reason? which I cling to now

In spite of duty. Duty ... Ah, I remember

I had a childish fondness for that name,

Dreamed I would serve God willingly. But now,

Now ’tis impossible.... Now if I serve,

I do his bidding with unwilling will;

Yet must I do it.

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