King Arthur's Socks and Other Village Plays - novelonlinefull.com
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THE PENCE. I am going. . . .
_But he allows himself to be led to the arbour seat_.
THE QUEEN. It is too late. You are mine, now, mine for ever. It was for this that you came hither--I am the meaning of your journey. It was ordained that you love me. You must not think of anything else.
THE PRINCE. Why have you done this to me? Are you a witch? I am afraid of you!
_He rises_.
THE QUEEN. I will teach you strange and terrible secrets.
THE PRINCE. I fear you and yet I trust you. What will come of this I do not know. But I care for nothing. Nothing in the world means anything to me now except you. Why is it that I seem to hate you?
_He seizes her and holds her fiercely_.
THE QUEEN. That is because you love me at last.
THE PRINCE. I could kill you.
THE QUEEN. You seek in vain to escape love.
_The sailor staggers in, sees the Prince, and stops_.
THE SAILOR. I am bidden to tell you--
THE PRINCE. Be off!--What is it you say?
_The Queen stands still, with her hands over her face_.
THE SAILOR. The ship is ready.
THE PRINCE. Go!
_The sailor walks away_.
THE QUEEN. (_looking after him_) A word, and you have forgotten me already. A moment ago I thought you loved me. Now I am nothing to you.
THE PRINCE. The ship--
THE QUEEN. It is ready to sail. They are waiting for you. Why do you not go?
THE PRINCE. I am sorry. But it is as you say. The ship is ready to sail. I must go.
THE QUEEN. Go quickly.
THE PRINCE. Farewell, then.
THE QUEEN. No, stay. (_She throws herself at his feet, and clasps his knees_.) See, I beg you to stay. I have no shame left. I beg you.
Stay even though you despise me. Stay even though you hate me. I do not care. I will be your slave, your bondwoman. I cannot let you go.
_She puts her head in her hands, and weeps_.
THE PRINCE. (_looking down at her_) I am sorry. (_After a pause_) Farewell.
_He touches her lightly on the shoulder, and, looking toward the sea, leaves her. She rises, and watches him with a stony face until he goes_.
_The fool enters_.
THE QUEEN. Are you drunken, fool, as I bade you be?
THE FOOL. I am drunken, yes, but not with wine. I am drunken with bitterness. With the bitterness of love.
THE QUEEN. Of love, fool?
THE FOOL. With the bitterness of love. It will amuse you, and so I will tell you what I mean. It is you that I love.
THE QUEEN. Life grows almost interesting once more. But are you not afraid that I will have you whipped?
THE FOOL. You would have had me whipped a week ago if I had told you this. But now you will not. Now you know what it is to love. . . .
THE QUEEN. My secrets are on a fool's tongue. But what does it matter?
Go on.
THE FOOL. Why did I try to keep the man you love from going away? In the hope that one day I should see you kissing him in the garden, and thus I would be spared the trouble of killing myself. In a word, I am a fool. But I have tried to help you. Why did you not keep him?
THE QUEEN. I have been asking that question of my own heart, fool. I would that I had not come to him a virgin and a Queen, but a light woman skilled in all the ways of love. Then perhaps I could have held him. But now he is gone, and the world is black.
THE FOOL. It is not the world, it is your heart that is black. And it is black with hatred. . . .
THE QUEEN. I think you understand, fool. I would set fire to this palace which the King my father built, I would burn it down tonight, save that it would not make light enough to take away the blackness from my heart.
_The sailor again, staggering_.
THE QUEEN. What, has the ship not gone?
THE SAILOR. Gone, and left me behind. Gone, and left me. . . .
THE FOOL. Here is still wine in the flagon.
THE SAILOR. Good. Good. Give it to me.
THE QUEEN. (_to the fool_) First bring it to me. (_She takes off a ring, and dips it in the wine. To the fool_)--I have spoken lightly of poisoning today. Now I think I will try it. I would like to see a man die. It will ease me a little. Come!
_The sailor comes and takes it from her hands, while the fool stares fascinated_.
THE QUEEN. How does it taste?
THE SAILOR. (_suddenly straightening up, no longer drunk_) Bitter.
What was in it?
