Chapter III: Act III: The Same Day

SCENE: _The Hall and loggia of Act I; but toward sunset,
and afar, on the flushed sea, are seen the fisher-boats
returning pale-winged to shore. In the left distance,
also, a portion of Famagouste is visible above the
waves--its orient walls and towers, white domes and
houses, interspersed with tall palms. The interior of
the Hall is the same; only the divan is placed to the
front and left, the lectern near the balcony leading to
the sleeping apartments and to the chapel._ SMARDA _is
lying lithely on the divan, beguiled with her charms
and amulets, and from time to time giving a low,
sinuous laugh._ VITTIA _enters, watches a moment,
thoughtful, then advances._

_Vittia._ Smarda----

_Smarda_ (_springing up_). Lady ... your slave!

_Vittia._ I think you are.
Think that you are--if ever the leopard yields.

_Smarda._ To you, lady? A-ha! let him refuse.
Command!

_Vittia._ And you will heed it well; I fear not.
But first I have thought of requital.

_Smarda_ (_avidly_). Ouie!

_Vittia._ Those amulets you wear, of jade and sard--

_Smarda_ (_quickly dark_). Are for revenge--to bring revenge!

_Vittia._ And from
Your Scythian home, over the hated sea,
They came with you.

_Smarda._ Yes.

_Vittia._ From the home whence you
Were torn by the Moor who was your one-time master.
Is it not so?

_Smarda._ The spirits strangle him!

[_Works at the charms._

_Vittia._ Well, if I win to-night what is begun
You shall not want, to-morrow,
Gold for a weightier witchery upon him.

[_The slave's eyes gleam._

But listen, every sinew will be needed
Still to achieve this wedding, though we have
Camarin with us, willing. So I've learned
A ship has come from Venice.

_Smarda_ (_quickly_). Pietro?

_Vittia._ Yes, Pietro, it must be, has arrived
With papers that will help.

_Smarda._ Ha! Fortune's touch!

_Vittia._ It is, but tardy. Therefore I must have
Them instantly.

_Smarda._ Ere he has time, lady,
To vaunt his loves, in Lusignan, and babble.

_Vittia._ As, wooing dolt, he will. But see to it.
I shall be in this place with lord Amaury,
Whom I must ... but no matter.
He left me suddenly a season since
Seeing his father look strangely upon
His mother; for lord Renier's doubt I still
Have been compelled to feed--to move Yolanda.
Here in this place then I shall be, at need.

[_She goes engrossedly._

_Smarda_ (_recalling the pledge; evilly_). A-ha! ha-ha! ha-ha!
if she but win!
A talisman with might upon the Moor!

[_Begins to dance--a charm held up before her._

If she but win! a-ha! a curse on him!

[_Whirls faster with a wild grace, swaying to and
fro, and chanting softly the while, till
suddenly a laugh in the corridor stops her, and_
PIETRO _is heard through the curtains adoring_
CIVA, _who pushes him into the Hall, then runs
away laughing._

_Pietro_ (_after her_). Hold, fair one! Stay! You look on Pietro
Of Venice! Pietro!

_Smarda_ (_to herself_). A-ha ... ha-ha!

_Pietro_ (_turning_). It is the slave! (_Grandly._) I greet you,
slave.

_Smarda._ Greeting!

_Pietro._ I, Pietro, who, as you know, am sought
By all the loveliest
Attending on the lords and high of Venice.

_Smarda._ So!... So!

_Pietro._ "The gentle Pietro," they say.
You may remember.

_Smarda._ So.

_Pietro._ "Proud Pietro!"
And then they sigh.

_Smarda._ So.

_Pietro._ Then they weep and pine--
"For Pietro"--until I must console them.

_Smarda_ (_going to where he poses; contemptuously_).
And for all this, O prince of paramours,

[_Spurns him._

My lady no doubt has bid you to sail from Venice?

_Pietro._ Eh?

_Smarda._ Eh! And she will hear no doubt with love
That you delay the powers of the Senate
Sent in your keeping to her?

_Pietro._ Slave! ... (_alarmed_) the papers?

_Smarda._ With love and with delight? since she awaits them?
With joy? When told your amorous mouthings yonder?

_Pietro._ Slave, she must never! You will take them to her!

[_Fumbles for papers._

In to her ... quickly!...
Dear slave, you will--and say if she inquire
That I was led astray
By the little Cyprian with guiling eyes
Who fell enamoured of me at the gate.

_Smarda._ Civa!

_Pietro._ The same! I sought to run away,

[_Still searching._

O slave, say to her, but I could not for--
For--for a lady by the marble knight,
That is, by the fountain, swooned, as I came in.
And then--

_Smarda._ Swooned!

_Pietro._ As I came!

_Smarda_ (_a-quiver_). Beside the fount?
Who? which? lady Yolanda? lady Berengere?

[_He stares at her ardour._

Did no one say?... My mistress must know this!
The papers, quickly!

_Pietro._ Slave, you----! By my sins!

[_She has seized them swiftly, and gone. He follows
amazed. Then sunset begins without, crimson and
far; and_ AMAURY _appears from the loggia,
reckless and worn. He pauses, looks about him,
troubled._

_Amaury._ Not here yet.... There is more in this than seems.

[_Goes to divan and sits._ VITTIA _enters behind._

More, Camarin of Paphos, than is clear!

[_Starts up._

And she must tell me! (_Sees_ VITTIA.) Lady, you I mean.

[VITTIA _advances inquiringly._

What is beyond this shame upon Yolanda?

_Vittia._ My lord----?

_Amaury._ What! It is moving in me clouded,
Deeper than sight but pressing at my peace.
My father's look! you saw it!

_Vittia._ Ah!

_Amaury._ And saw
Fear in my mother!

_Vittia._ Yes, implanted deep.

_Amaury._ And did not wonder?

_Vittia_ (_sits_). When I knew its source?
No need, my lord--though your pang too I marked--
For, trust me, ere to-morrow all will cease--
If you are firm.

_Amaury._ I? who know nought? In what?

_Vittia._ That do not ask, I pray. (_Deftly._) Another could
Fitly reply, but I----

_Amaury._ No other better!

_Vittia._ Then ... it will cease, my lord--
So as a flail of doubt it should not still
Beat in you--when Yolanda
Is wed with Camarin ... no, do not speak;
The reason for your sake I must withhold.

_Amaury._ Though as under sirocco I am kept.

[_Sits._

Sirocco!... It is unintelligible!

[_Rises. A pause._

Yet you speak gently.

_Vittia._ No; unblushingly!

[_He looks surprised._

Unblushingly to one who knows--though by
A chance--my love to him--my lowered love.

[_Turns away._

And yet I cannot rue
That he awaking sudden from the potion
Surprised yearning and truth upon my lips.
No, and I would that gentle words might be
As waters of enchantment on his grief.--
But of Yolanda--

[_Rises._

_Amaury._ Still I love her, still!

_Vittia_ (_strainedly_). As well she knows, so may refuse to wed
With Camarin.

_Amaury._ She?

_Vittia._ Since you are Lusignan,
Heir of a sceptred line,
And yet may reach--the realm.

_Amaury_ (_pierced_). Which ... do you mean,
She hopes of?

_Vittia._ Were it folly to make sure?

[_A pause._

_Amaury._ How? speak.

_Vittia._ Again unshameful? No; one thing
Alone would serve you. That I must not bring
My tongue to falter.

_Amaury._ Be it so.

_Vittia._ And yet ...

[_He has turned away._

Yet I must bend to! and, my lord, I will!
Will ... for you suffer!
Will, though indelicacy seem to soil
Whatever bloom I boasted.

[_Goes to him._

It is this:
To let her ... but for to-day ...
Think you ... for she's aware of my affection ...
Have chosen--to wed me.

_Amaury._ You!

_Vittia._ For to-day.
To-morrow I return to Venice, then
Denial.

_Amaury_ (_moved_). Lady--?

_Vittia._ I will bear it.

_Amaury._ ... Thus?

[_Struggles._

Then it shall be. And grateful I'll await
The issue's utterance. And stay, wear this--

[_Takes off a ring._

From her dead father's hand--
As a proof to her of any tie soever.
But now--for the sails make home along the sea--
Now of my mother.

_Vittia._ More, my lord?

[SMARDA _glides in._

_Amaury._ This only.
To-morrow when again she ... Scythian!

[_The slave is gleaming strangely._

_Vittia._ Smarda! what do you mean? why are you here?

[_Sees papers; takes them._

These--but not these alone have brought you! What?

[Follows SMARDA'S eye.

Of lord Amaury?

_Smarda._ Of his mother.

_Vittia._ How!

_Smarda._ She swooned of terror at the castle gate.
She lies in danger. Hear--'twas as she fled
The lord of Lusignan.

_Amaury._ My father?

_Smarda._ He.
And you are sought below, I heard it said:
Some officer of Famagouste---and men.

[AMAURY _turns dazed and goes._

_Vittia_ (_through a surge of thoughts that have darkened her face_).
This is again fortune! ... fortune!

_Smarda._ Lady?

_Vittia._ Is! though an instant since it seemed disaster.

_Smarda._ And how?

_Vittia._ Yolanda, does not know? nothing?

_Smarda._ Nothing. She was returning from the rocks,
Where nest the windy gulls,

[_Gloatingly._

As I came hither, I stole there at noon
To see her suffer.

_Vittia._ Then--I can compel her.
She will come here. Go to the curtains, see.
If she is near, the Paphian is in
The bower by the cypress: there, tell him,
_The loggia--at once_.... Ah!

YOLANDA _enters._

_Yolanda_ (_to herself_). "Ah" indeed.

[_Her look of purpose changes to one of distrust.
But she firmly fronts to_ VITTIA, _as the slave
slips out._

_Vittia._ My gratitude! I wished, and you are here.

_Yolanda._ And--for some reason of less honour--you.

_Vittia._ I, a dear guest? fa!

_Yolanda._ Would you were! ... not one
This ne'er-before-envenomed air would banish.

[_Slowly._

One whose abiding
These walls would loathe aloud--had they a tongue
To utter.

_Vittia._ Yet I may be mistress of them.
Ere all is done--since still it is my purpose.

_Yolanda._ Gulfs wide as the hate of God for infamy
Would lie preventing; so there is no fear.

[_Sits._

_Vittia._ A prophesy!

_Yolanda._ A deeper than disdain.

_Vittia._ Or than your love of Camarin of Paphos!

_Yolanda._ Which you would feign, but cannot.

_Vittia._ Still, before
Evening is done, you will become his wife.

_Yolanda._ If, ere it come, all under Lusignan
Do not look scorn on Vittia Pisani.

[_Rises._

_Vittia._ What! how?

_Yolanda._ Plentiful scorn! (_With joy._) A thing may still
Be done to lift my hope out of this ruin!
To bring Amaury grateful to my feet!
And I will do it.

_Vittia._ Tell? ... vowing him first
To win his father's lenience?... No ... I see!
You will when she who's guilty
And this enamoured Paphian are fled!

[YOLANDA _turns pale._

When they are fled! ha.... And it is too late.

_Yolanda._ Too--? (_stunned_). You by a trick--some trick have--!

_Vittia._ Hindered? Little
I needed.... Her wings are flightless. She is ill,
Verging--go learn!--to death.

_Yolanda._ Oh ...!

_Vittia._ To the grave.
And you alone, she knows, can put it far--
Since she is numbed and drained
Momently by the terror of her husband,
Whose every pulse seems to her a suspicion.

_Yolanda._ And it is you ... you who have urged again
His doubt that would have sunk!

_Vittia._ It was enough
Merely to sigh--and fear her innocence
Can only seem simple as dew again
If you wed freely Camarin of Paphos.

_Yolanda._ And that you could! though in her heart remorse
Trampled and tore!
Though with the wounds of battle he you "love"
Is livid still.

_Vittia._ And grieves?--Be comforted!
For _he_ is--now security has come.

[_Shows the ring;_ YOLANDA _falls back._

As _he_ is, do not fear.

_Yolanda._ Amaury!... Oh!
My father's gift--so desecrated? So?--
Ah, you are merciless!

_Vittia._ Only aware
How to compel your pity to my ends;
For you will spare his mother.

_Yolanda._ Yielding--still,
And past all season of recovery?
Shattering love for ever at my feet?
No, you are duped. For empty, cold are the veins
Now of submission in me; numb and dead
The pleading of it. And upon you, back,
I cast the burden of your cruelty.

[_Slowly._

And--if she dies in terror of the lips
Of Renier Lusignan--on your peace
The guilt be!

_Vittia._ Fa.

_Yolanda._ The heaping mass of horror!

_Vittia_ (_moved_). Liar, on her own; for she has sinned.

_Yolanda._ And suffered!
But you----

_Vittia._ I say her own. I've done no crime.
And you will wed him.

_Yolanda._ Or, ... Venetian--
Wed you to Remorse!
For there at the gates that guard your rest you hear
Dim now the risen phantom cries of it,
The presage beat of them like hungry hands
That will o'erwhelm you!
All that I could to spare her I have done;
All that was duty and of love the most.
But you it was who struck and kindled first
Within lord Renier fire of suspicion.
And you it is--
Since in the worst that live there yet is heaven!--
Must null his doubt and ease the sobbing ebb
And flood of her sick spirit; you who must
Go to his fear and with persuasion say
That it is folly of him and of you
So to suspect her, since in Camarin's
Arms I was found. You will!

_Vittia._ And--then go pray?

[_Draws out the papers scornfully._

Rather I'll bring you this:--Authority
Sent me of Venice
To make Amaury lordly over Cyprus,
Or to abase him even of Famagouste;
Which I will do--

[_Goes to her._

Unless I have the pledge that you will wed,
Though not to be his wife and free to leave him,
This Paphian,
And with him from Lusignan hence will pass.

[CAMARIN _appears on loggia._

And he has come now for your answer.

_Yolanda._ Here!
In league with you! in this!

_Vittia._ Most loyally;
And ready skilfully to disavow,
With every force, your innocence--if you
Attempt betrayal!--
Enter, my lord of Paphos--I have spoken.

[CAMARIN _enters desperately._

But she has pledged no further--though the life
Of Berengere Lusignan fall for it,
And though Amaury.... But you may avail.

[_Moves off._ YOLANDA _stands silently between
them._ CAMARIN _looks at her, falters, then
turns on_ VITTIA.

_Camarin._ As an anchorite covets, Venetian,
Immortal calm, I crave and covet this!
Yet ... I will not entreat it of her more.

_Vittia._ What!

_Camarin._ Fate may fall. I swore in dread, but will not!

_Yolanda_ (_low_). Madonna!

_Vittia._ You refuse?

_Yolanda._ He does.

_Vittia._ The whole?

_Yolanda._ Lady of Venice, yes; for very shame!

[_With deep joy._

Bitterly tho' it be, he must, for shame!
For though he would waste the air of the world to keep
The breath still in the veins
Of her his love so wronged,
He cannot ask me more than breast can bear--
Knowing I have already borne for her
Infection worse than fetid marshes send
From Mesaoria--
Have lost the sky of love that I had arched
And all the stars of it. See, he is dumb!--
He cannot.

_Camarin_ (_coldly_). No; but to your heart I leave her
And to your pity.

_Yolanda._ Say not pity to me!

[_The word overwhelms her anew._

Am I not needy, fain of it, and can
Endurance ever dure!
What have I left ...
Of joy to ripple in me or of light
To sway me to forgetting--I to whom
Dawn was enchanted incense once, and day,
The least of earth, an ides of heaven bliss.
What to me left! to me!
Who shepherded each happy flock of waves
Running with silvery foaming there to shore,
Who numbered the little leaves with laughing names
Out of my love,
And quickened the winds with quicker winds of hope,
That now are spent ... as summer waters,
Leaving my breast a torrent's barren bed.
Pity and pity! ever pity! No.

[_Enter_ HASSAN.

A nun to pity I will be no more.
But you, cruel Venetian.... Ah, ah,
Mother of God! is there no gentleness
In thee to move her and dissolve away
This jeopardy congealing over us?

[_A pause._

_Vittia._ You see, none.

_Yolanda._ Ah, for sceptre and for might
Then to compel you.

_Vittia._ Still, there is none.

_Yolanda._ None ...

[_Sinks to a seat in despair._

Yet could I think!

_Hassan._ Lady Yolanda--

[_Advances._

_Yolanda._ Were
My brain less weary!

_Hassan._ Lady Yolanda--

_Yolanda._ Well?

_Hassan._ There is a means--a might.

_Yolanda._ Well?

[_Is half heedless._

_Hassan._ To compel her.

_Yolanda._ To ... what?

_Hassan._ If you will dare it.

_Yolanda._ Will--?

[_Rises._

_Hassan._ I swear.

_Yolanda._ Your thought! I have no fear.

_Hassan._ Then ... let me but
Seize her and shut her fast an hour within
The leprous keep, and she shall write whate'er
You order; then upon a vessel quick
Be sent to Venice whence she came.

_Camarin._ Mad! mad!
Venice would rise!

_Hassan._ And Cyprus, to be free!--
But 'tis not, lady! and lord Renier
Shall have a letter of her guile and flight.
Venture it, venture!

_Yolanda_ (_after a long pause_). If it can be done,
It shall be.

_Hassan._ Ah!

_Yolanda._ And must be.

_Vittia._ Fools, to me!

[_She stands defensive, as_ HASSAN _prepares to close in._

_Yolanda._ Quickly, and take her.

_Hassan._ Now.

_Camarin_ (_with sudden horror_). No!... Sateless God!

[_His eyes are fixed on the balcony. All look,
appalled. For slowly down the steps comes_
RENIER _following_ BERENGERE, _whose eyes turn
back in fluttering trance upon him._

_Yolanda._ Ah! ... he will kill her! Stop, my lord! mother!
Lord Renier!

[_Runs; takes_ BERENGERE _in her arms._

Cold is she, stony pale,
And sinking!... Go away from her, go, go!

_Renier._ No ... she shall tell me.

_Yolanda._ Mother!... Tell you that
You are her murderer?

_Renier._ The truth!

_Yolanda._ The truth!

[_Laughs bitterly, and at a loss, as if amazed.
Then, almost against her will--_

It is suspicion! is that mad suspicion
That you have had of her.

_Renier._ It is! It is!

_Yolanda._ And--all because I have these days delayed
To wed with Camarin.

_Renier._ Delayed?

_Yolanda._ Because
I show befitting shame that I was here
Found in his arms ... when to Amaury
I was betrothed!

_Renier._ Power of--!--No!

_Yolanda._ Because
I grieve to leave Lusignan, this my home--
Where I have dwelt as under tented love--
Though I am bidden.

_Renier._ This can be?

_Berengere_ (_faintly_). Yolanda!

_Renier._ I say--only delayed? and you--?

_Yolanda._ Yes, yes.
Now I will wed him, heedless, wantless, wild.
Send for the priest and for Amaury, for
Laughter and lights and revelry--for all
Within this castle. But first to her bed,
And to tranquillity,
She must be borne, she your cold violence
Has driven here.... Alessa--Tremitus!

[_They have entered._

Lead her within. O mother! piteous mother!----
Ah, it was ruthless, kindless!

_Renier._ We shall see.

[_To_ HASSAN.

Bid Moro and Amaury.--As for her,
I soon may come and seek forgiveness.

_Berengere._ No!

[HASSAN _goes._

My brain and breath! ... the pall ... where am I ... how
Long must I lie!...

_Tremitus._ She speaks to visions. So,
So can the blood do--trick us utterly!

[_He supports her--with_ ALESSA--_slowly up steps
and off._ YOLANDA _covers her eyes._ HASSAN
_returns with_ MORO, _then, and with_ AMAURY,
_whose look seeks_ VITTIA.

_Yolanda_ (_as all stand silent_). Speak, speak, and tell him!

_Renier._ Yes, Amaury ... you
Are sent for to behold Yolanda wed,
As you commanded,
Here unto Camarin. Shame has till now
Withheld her, but ... what ails you?

_Amaury._ On; go on.
The sudden blood up to my wounds.

_Renier._ It has,
I say, withheld her. But she now has chosen.

_Amaury._ So; and ... it is well. And here are her
Vows I have kept--

[_Takes a packet from his breast._

Vows and remembrances ... I shall aspire--

[_Hands it; she lets it fall._

That I may loathe her not o'ermuch; and to
Muffle my sword from him that now she weds.

[_His voice breaks tonelessly._

Come, let it be.

_Yolanda._ Amaury!

_Amaury_ (_angrily_). Priest, be brief!

MORO (_before them; as_ CAMARIN _takes_ YOLANDA'S _hand_).
The Church invests me, and the powers of
This island, here to make you man and wife.
Be joined, ye who have sinned,
In soul, peace and repentances for ever.

[_He signs the cross._ YOLANDA _stands dazed. A
silence. Then a shuddering cry and all turn
toward the balcony, where_ ALESSA _bursts, pale
and wild and striving to speak._

_Yolanda_ (_with dread, awe, premonition_). Alessa!

_Alessa._ Lady Yolanda! you have wed him?

_Yolanda_ (_pausing_). Yes.

_Alessa._ Lady Berengere is dead.

_Yolanda._ No!... No!

[_Chokes rebelliously._

It cannot be! mother! cannot! awake her!
And tell her I have wed him! mother! cannot!

[_Goes trembling, belieflessly, up the balcony. A
strange doubt seizes_ AMAURY. _On the rest is
silence, consternation, and fear._

CURTAIN