Locrine: A Tragedy Part 23

LOCRINE.

No dream is mine that does thee less than right: Albeit thy words be wild as warring waves, I know thee higher of heart than shame could smite And queenlier than thy queenship.

GUENDOLEN.

Dost the know What day records to day and night to night - How he whose wrath was rained as hail or snow On Troy's adulterous towers, when treacherous flame Devoured them, and our fathers' roofs lay low, And all their praise was turned to fire and shame - All-righteous G.o.d, who herds the stars of heaven As sheep within his sheepfold--G.o.d, whose name Compels the wandering clouds to service, given As surely as even the sun's is--loves or hates Treason? He loved our sires: were they forgiven?

Their walls upreared of G.o.ds, their sevenfold gates, Might these keep out his justice? What art thou To make thy will more strong and sure than fate's?

Thy fate am I, that falls upon thee now.

Wilt thou not slay me yet--and slay thy son?

So shall thy fate change, and unbend the brow That now looks mortal on thee.

LOCRINE.

What is done Lies now past help or pleading: nor would I Plead with thee, knowing that love henceforth is none Nor trust between us till the day we die.

Yet, if thy name be woman,--if thine heart Be not burnt up with fire of h.e.l.l, and lie Not wounded even to death--albeit we part, Let there not be between us war, but peace, Though love may be not.

GUENDOLEN.

Peace? The man thou art Craves--and shame bids not breath within him cease - Craves of the woman that thou knowest I am Peace? Ay, take hands at parting, and release Each heart, each hand, each other: shall the lamb, The lamb-like woman, born to cower and bleed, Withstand his will whose choice may save or d.a.m.n Her days and nights, her word and thought and deed - Take heart to outdare her lord the lion? How Should this be--if the lion's imperial seed Life not against his sire as brave a brow As frowns upon his mother?--Peace be then Between us: none may stand before thee now: No son of thine keep faith with Guendolen.

MADAN.

I have held my peace perforce, it seems, too long, Being slower of speech than sons of meaner men.

But seeing my sire hath done my mother wrong, My hand is hers to serve against my sire.

GUENDOLEN.

And G.o.d shall make thine hand against him strong.

LOCRINE.

Ay: when the hearthstead flames, the roof takes fire.

GUENDOLEN.

Woe worth his hand who set the hearth on flame!

LOCRINE.

Curse not our fathers; though thy fierce desire Drive thine own son against his father, shame Should rein thy tongue from speech too shameless.

GUENDOLEN.

Ay!

And thou, my holy-hearted lord,--the same Whose hand was laid in mine and bound to lie There fast for ever if faith be found on earth - If truth be true, and shame not wholly die - Hast thou not made thy mockery and thy mirth, Thy laughter and thy scorn, of shame? But we, Thy wife by wedlock, and thy son by birth, Who have no part in spirit and soul with thee, Will bear no part in kingdom nor in life With one who hath put to shame his child and me.

Thy true-born son, and I that was thy wife, Will see thee dead or perish. Call thy men About thee; bid them gird their loins for strife More dire than theirs who storm the wild wolf's den; For if thou dare not slay us here today Thou art dead.

LOCRINE.

Thou knowest I dare not, Guendolen, Dare what the ravenous beasts whose life is prey Dream not of doing, though drunk with bloodshed.

GUENDOLEN.

No: Thou art gentle, and beasts are honest: no such way Lies open toward thy fearful foot: not so Shalt thou find surety from these foes of thine.

Woe worth thee therefore! yea, a sevenfold woe Shall G.o.d through us rain down on thee, Locrine.

Hadst thou the heart G.o.d hath not given thee--then Our blood might run before thy feet like wine And wash thy way toward sin in sight of men Smooth, soft, and safe. But if thou shed it not - If Madan live to look on Guendolen Living--I wot not what shall be--I wot What shall not--thou shalt have no joy to live More than have they for whom G.o.d's wrath grows hot.

LOCRINE.

G.o.d's grace is no such gift as thou canst give, Queen, or withhold. Farewell.

GUENDOLEN.

I dare not say Farewell.

LOCRINE.

And why?

GUENDOLEN.

Thou hast not said--Forgive.

LOCRINE.

I say it--I have said. Thou wilt not hear me?

GUENDOLEN.

Nay.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.--Fields near the Severn.

Enter on one side LOCRINE and his army: on the other side GUENDOLEN, MADAN, and their army.

LOCRINE.

Stand fast, and sound a parley.