Semiramis and Other Plays Part 56

What a fool Roger was to bring Edgar Poe to the house!

Mrs. Tru.

He's crazy about the man. Says he's a genius, and all that stuff.

Mrs. Del.

Well, he is. But to introduce him to a girl like Helen! They'll be off before morning!

Mrs. Tru.

Oh-h! Don't, Kate! Roger actually wants me to ask him to stay in the house.

Mrs. Del.

Idiot! He deserves to lose her.... But your guest!

(Laughs) Poor Madela! How he would upset your nice, comfortable theories of life! Why, you couldn't hand him a cup of tea without feeling the planet quake.

Mrs. Tru.

But what are we to do? Kate, you _must_ help me.

Mrs. Del.

I'm going to. You can't tell her father, because Helen must be persuaded, not opposed. And don't speak about the money. If she loved a beggar she would trudge barefoot behind him.

Mrs. Tru. (Despairingly) O, don't I know it?

Mrs. Del.

Now you leave this to me, Madela. I will say a few things to Helen about meeting Mr. Poe in Europe--and--you know--

Mrs. Tru. (Kissing her violently) O, Kate! Tell her all--and more, if necessary! Don't think about your reputation if you can save Roger's fortune--

Mrs. Del.

Sh!--

(Enter Helen, with wine and a gla.s.s)

Mrs. Tru. (Feebly) Thank you, dear, but I'm better now. (Rising) I'll try to rest. (Goes to door)

Hel. I would see you to your room, mamma, but I'm sure you would rather have Catherine. (Mrs. Delormis makes no move to go)

Mrs. Tru.

O, I am quite well--I mean--I need no one--no one at all! Goodnight, my dears! (Exit)

Hel. (Politely) And is there anything which you must have out to-night, cousin Catherine?

Mrs. Del.

Sit down, Helen. (Helen takes a chair) You have never loved me, but I have always had a warm heart for you, little girl. And you will take a warning from me in good part, won't you?

Hel. A good warning, yes.

Mrs. Del.

I told you about meeting Mr. Poe last summer in Normandy. But--I did not tell you how often I met him.

(Helen rises, then Mrs. Delormis rises) Helen, I prove my love for you by saying what it is so hard to utter to your pure self. My life has not been--all you would wish it to be--and Mr. Poe knows more about it than any other man.

Hel. You lie! I have seen his soul!

(She goes to door and opens it for Mrs. Delormis to pa.s.s out. Mrs. Delormis sweeps through with an attempt at majesty)

Hel. (Motionless with clenched hands) Wicked, wicked woman!...

(Goes to window, rear, opens it, draws long breaths as if stifling, and turns back into room) Edgar! My love! I was a thing of clay. One look from your eyes has made me a being of fire and air.... (Lies down on couch and takes up her book) ... I can not read ... or sleep ... or pray.

There's too much whirling in my heart for prayer....

(Starts) What moan is that?... (Rises, takes light from table, goes to window, leans out, casting the rays down) Nothing.... I'm fanciful.... The moon is rising. (Goes back, putting light on table) O, Edgar! G.o.d help me to be what love must be to thee. Love that can look on miracles and be sane. What a face when he said goodnight! Like an angel's whose immortality is his wound.... Poor Roger!...

What will my father say?... (Moonlight floods the window) Welcome, soft nurse of dreams! (Extinguishes lamp) A little rest.... Ah, I know _he_ does not sleep.... (She lies on couch in the moonlight, her eyes closed. Poe enters by window, gazes at her, and throws up his arms in gesture of prayer)

Hel. (Looking up, and springing to her feet) Edgar! My G.o.d, you must not come here!

Poe. Is this love's welcome?

Hel. Go! go!

Poe. I was dying out there.

Hel. Leave me!

Poe. Life was pa.s.sing from my veins. Only your eyes could draw back the ebbing flood.

Hel. I will light the lamp! (Turns hastily)

Poe. And put out Heaven's! (She drops her hand)

Hel. Go, O go at once!

Poe. Again I am alone! The twin angel who put her hand in mine is flown!

Hel. Edgar, be calm!

Poe. Calm! With such a look from you burning me as if I were a devil to be branded? Such words from you hissing like snakes through my brain?

Hel. O, I beg you--

Poe. I would but touch the hand that soothes my blood--look in the eyes that wrap my soul in balm--and you cry out as though some barbarous infidel had trampled you at prayers!

Hel. My father--Roger--they will not understand.

Poe. O, you would bring the world in to say how and when we shall love! Take note of the hour, and kiss by the clock!

Great love is like death, Helen. It knows no time of day.

If a man were dying at your gates would you keep from him because 'twas midnight and not noon, and you were robed for sleep? It was your soul I sought. Must you array that to receive me? O, these women! On Resurrection day they'll not get up unless their clothes are called with them from the dust! 'Excuse me, G.o.d, and send a dressmaker!' Ha! ha!

ha! (Walks the floor in maniac humor)

Hel. Edgar, for love's sake hear me!

Poe. Speak loud if you would drown the winds!