One-Act Plays Part 94

Oh, I was n.i.g.g.ard, once, unkind--I know, Untrusty: loved, unloved you, day by day: A little and a little,--why, I knew not, And more, and wondered why;--then not at all: Drank up the dew from out your very heart, Like the extortionate sun, to leave you parched Till, with as little grace, I flung all back In gusts of angry rain! I have been cruel.

But the spell works; yea, love, the spell, the spell Fed by your fasting, by your subtlety Past all men's knowledge.... There is something rare About you that I long to flee and cannot:-- Some mastery ... that's more my will than I.

[_She laughs softly. He listens, looking straight ahead, not at her, immobile, but suffering evidently. She watches his face and speaks with greater intensity. Here she crosses nearer and falls on her knees._]

Ah, look: you shall believe, you shall believe.

Will you put by your Music? Was I that?

Your Music,--very Music?... Listen, then, Turn not so blank a face. Thou hast my love.

I'll tell thee so till thought itself shall tire And fall a-dreaming like a weary child, ...

Only to dream of you, and in its sleep To murmur You.... Ah, look at me, love, lord ...

Whom queens would honor. Read these eyes you praised, That pitied, once,--that sue for pity now.

But look! You shall not turn from me--

THE PLAYER. Eyes, eyes!-- The darkness hides so much.

MARY. He'll not believe....

What can I do? What more,--what more, you ... man?

I bruise my heart here, at an iron gate....

[_She regards him half gloomily without rising._]

Yet there is one thing more.... You'll take me, now?-- My meaning.... You were right. For once I say it.

There is a glory of discovery [_ironically_]

To the black heart ... because it may be known But once,--but once....

I wonder men will hide Their motives all so close. If they could guess,-- It is so new to feel the open day Look in on all one's hidings, at the end.

So.... You were right. The first was all a lie: A lie, and for a purpose....

Now,--[_she rises and stands off, regarding him abruptly_], And why, I know not,--but 'tis true, at last, I do believe ... I love you.

Look at me!

[_He stands by the fireside against the chimney-piece. She crosses to him with pa.s.sionate appeal, holding out her arms. He turns his eyes and looks at her with a rigid scrutiny. She endures it for a second, then wavers; makes an effort, unable to look away, to lift her arms towards his neck; they falter and fall at her side. The two stand spellbound by mutual recognition. Then she speaks in a low voice._]

MARY.

Oh, let me go!

[_She turns her head with an effort,--gathers her cloak about her, then hastens out as if from some terror._]

[_THE PLAYER is alone beside the chimney-piece. The street outside is darkening with twilight through the cas.e.m.e.nts and upper door. There is a sound of rough-throated singing that comes by and is softened with distance. It breaks the spell._]

THE PLAYER.

So; it is over ... now. [_He looks into the fire._]

"_Fair, kind, and true." And true!_... My golden Friend.

Those two ... together.... He was ill at ease.

But that he should betray me with a kiss!

By this preposterous world ... I am in need.

Shall there be no faith left? Nothing but names?

Then he's a fool who steers his life by such.

Why not the body-comfort of this herd Of creatures huddled here to keep them warm?-- Trying to drown out with enforced laughter The query of the winds ... unanswered winds That vex the soul with a perpetual doubt.

What holds me?... Bah, that were a Cause, indeed!

To prove your soul one truth, by being it,-- Against the foul dishonor of the world!

How else prove aught?...

I talk into the air.

And at my feet, my honor full of wounds.

Honor? Whose honor? For I knew my sin, And she ... had none. There's nothing to avenge.

[_He speaks with more and more pa.s.sion, too distraught to notice interruptions. Enter d.i.c.kON, with a tallow-dip. He regards THE PLAYER with half-open mouth from the corner; then stands by the cas.e.m.e.nt, leaning up against it and yawning now and then._]

I had no right: that I could call her mine So none should steal her from me, and die for't.

There's nothing to avenge ... Brave beggary!

How fit to lodge me in this home of Shows, With all the ruffian life, the empty mirth, The gross imposture of humanity, Strutting in virtues it knows not to wear, Knave in a stolen garment--all the same-- Until it grows enamored of a life It was not born to,--falls a-dream, poor cheat, In the midst of its native shams,--the thieves and bears And ballad-mongers all!... Of such am I.

[_Re-enter TOBIAS and one or two TAVERNERS. TOBIAS regards THE PLAYER, who does not notice anyone,--then leads off d.i.c.kON by the ear. Exeunt into taproom. THE PLAYER goes to the cas.e.m.e.nt, pushes it wide open, and gazes out at the sky._]

Is there naught else?... I could make shift to bind My heart up and put on my mail again, To cheat myself and death with one fight more, If I could think there were some worldly use For bitter wisdom.

But I'm no general, That my own hand-to-hand with evil days Should cheer my doubting thousands....

I'm no more Than one man lost among a mult.i.tude; And in the end dust swallows them--and me, And the good sweat that won our victories.

Who sees? Or seeing, cares? Who follows on?

Then why should my dishonor trouble me, Or broken faith in him? _What is it suffers?

And why?_ Now that the moon is turned to blood.

[_He turns towards the door with involuntary longing, and seems to listen._]

No ... no, he will not come. Well, I have naught To do but pluck from me my bitter heart, And live without it.

[_Re-enter d.i.c.kON with a tankard and a cup. He sets them down on a small table; this he pushes towards THE PLAYER, who turns at the noise._]

So...? Is it for me?

d.i.c.kON.

Ay, on the score! I had good sight o' the bear.

Look, here's a sprig was stuck on him with pitch;--

[_Rubbing the sprig on his sleeve._]

I caught it up,--from Lambeth marsh, belike.

Such grow there, and I've seen thee cherish such.

THE PLAYER.

Give us thy posy.

[_He comes back to the fire and sits in the chair near by. d.i.c.kON gets out the iron lantern from the corner._]

d.i.c.kON. Hey! It wants a light.

[_THE PLAYER seems to listen once more, his face turned towards the door. He lifts his hand as if to hush d.i.c.kON, lets it fall, and looks back at the fire. d.i.c.kON regards him with shy curiosity and draws nearer._]

d.i.c.kON.

Thou wilt be always minding of the fire ...