One-Act Plays - novelonlinefull.com
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MARY.
Because you cannot understand.
Alas, when all's unriddled, the charm goes.
HERBERT.
Come, you're not melancholy?
MARY. Nay, are you?
But should Nan Hughes have seen us, and spoiled all--
HERBERT.
How could she so?
MARY. I know not ... yet I know If she had met us, she could steal To-day, Golden To-day.
HERBERT. A kiss; and so forget her.
MARY.
Hush, hush,--the tavern-boy there.
[_To d.i.c.kON._] Tell me, boy,-- [_To HERBERT._] Some errand, now; a roc's egg!
Strike thy wit.
HERBERT.
What is't you miss? Why, so. The lady's lost A very curious reason, wrought about With diverse broidery.
MARY. Nay, 'twas a mask.
HERBERT.
A mask, arch-wit? Why will you mock yourself And all your fine deceits? Your mask, your reason, Your reason with a mask!
MARY. You are too merry.
[_To d.i.c.kON._] A mask it is, and m.u.f.fler finely wrought With little amber points all hung like bells.
I lost it as I came, somewhere....
HERBERT. Somewhere Between the Paris Gardens and the Bridge.
MARY.
Or below Bridge--or haply in the Thames!
HERBERT.
No matter where, so you do bring it back.
Fly, Mercury! Here's feathers for thy heels. [_Giving coin._]
MARY [_aside_].
Weights, weights! [_Exit d.i.c.kON._]
[_HERBERT looks about him, opens the door of the taproom, grows troubled. She watches him with dissatisfaction, seeming to warm her feet by the fire meanwhile._]
HERBERT [_apart_].
I know this place. We used to come Together, he and I ...
MARY [_apart_]. Forgot again.
O the capricious tides, the hateful calms, And the too eager ship that would be gone Adventuring against uncertain winds, For some new, utmost sight of Happy Isles!
Becalmed,--becalmed ... But I will break this calm.
[_She sees the lute on the table, crosses and takes it up, running her fingers over the strings very softly. She sits._]
HERBERT.
Ah, mermaid, is it you?
MARY. Did you sail far?
HERBERT.
Not I; no, sooth. [_Crossing to her._]
Mermaid, I would not think.
But you--
MARY.
I think not. I remember nothing.
There's nothing in the world but you and me; All else is dust. Thou shalt not question me; Or if,--but as a sphinx in woman-shape: And when thou fail'st at answer, I shall turn, And rend thy heart and cast thee from the cliff.
[_She leans her head back against him, and he kisses her._]
So perish all who guess not what I am!...
Oh, but I know you: you are April-Days.
Nothing is sure, but all is beautiful!
[_She runs her fingers up the strings, one by one, and listens, speaking to the lute._]
Is it not so? Come, answer. Is it true?
Speak, sweeting, since I love thee best of late, And have forsook my virginals for thee.
_All's beautiful indeed and all unsure?_ _"Ay"_ ... (Did you hear?) _He's fair and faithless? "Ay."_ [_Speaking with the lute._]
HERBERT.
Poor oracle, with only one reply!-- Wherein 'tis unlike thee.
MARY. _Can he love aught So well as his own image in the brook, Having once seen it?_
HERBERT. Ay!
MARY. The lute saith "_No."_ ...
O dullard! Here were tidings, would you mark.
What said I? _Oracle, can he love aught So dear as his own image in the brook, Having once looked_?... No, truly.
[_With sudden abandon._] Nor can I!
HERBERT.
O leave this game of words, you thousand-tongued.
Sing, sing to me. So shall I be all yours Forever;--or at least till you be mute!...
I used to wonder he should be thy slave: I wonder now no more. Your ways are wonders; You have a charm to make a man forget His past and yours, and everything but you.
