Locrine: A Tragedy Part 12

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CAMBER.

Thou.

GUENDOLEN.

Not I, Though I were cast out hence, cast off, discrowned, Abject, ungirt of all that guards me round, Naked. What villainous madness, knave and king, Is this that puts upon thy babbling tongue Poison?

CAMBER.



The truth is as a snake to sting That breathes ill news: but where its fang hath stung The very pang bids health and healing spring.

G.o.d knows the grief wherewith my spirit is wrung - The spirit of thee so scorned, so misesteemed, So mocked with strange misprision and misdeemed Merciless, false, unbrotherly--to take Such task upon it as may burn thine heart With bitterer hatred of me that I spake What, had I held my peace and crept apart And tamed my soul to silence for thy sake And mercy toward the royal thing thou art, Chance haply might have made a fiery sword To slay thee with--slay thee, and spare thy lord.

GUENDOLEN.

Worse had it done to slay my lord, and spare Me. Wilt thou now show mercy toward me? Then Strike with that sword mine heart through--if thou dare.

All know thy tongue's edge deadly.

CAMBER.

Guendolen, Thou seest me like a va.s.sal bound to bear All bitter words that bite the hearts of men From thee, so be it this please thy wrath. I stand Slave of thy tongue and subject of thine hand, And pity thee. Take, if thou wilt, my head; Give it my brother. Thou shalt hear me speak First, though the soothfast word that hangs unsaid As yet, being spoken,--albeit this hand be weak And faint this heart, thou sayest--should strike thee dead Even with that rose of wrath on brow and cheek.

GUENDOLEN.

I hold not thee too faint of heart to slay Women. Say forth whate'er thou hast heart to say.

CAMBER.

Silence I have not heart to keep, and see Scorn and derision gird thee round with shame, Not knowing what all thy serfs who mock at thee Know, and make mirth and havoc of thy name.

Does this not move thee?

GUENDOLEN.

How should aught move me Fallen from such tongues as falsehood finds the same - Such tongues as fraud or treasonous hate o'erscurfs With leprous l.u.s.t--a prince's or a serf's?

CAMBER.

That l.u.s.t of the evil-speaking tongue which gives Quick breath to deadly lies, and stings to life The rottenness of falsehood, when it lives, Falls dumb, and leaves the lie to bring forth strife.

The liar will say no more--his heart misgives His knaves.h.i.+p--should he sunder man and wife?

Such, sister, in thy sight, it seems, am I.

Yet shalt thou take, to keep or cast it by, The truth of shame I would not have thee hear, - Not might I choose,--but choose I may not.

GUENDOLEN.

Shame And truth? Shame never toward thine heart came near, And all thy life hath hung about thy name.

Nor ever truth drew nigh the lips that fear Whitens, and makes the blood that feeds them tame.

Speak all thou wilt--but even for shame, forsooth, Talk not of shame--and tell me not of truth.

CAMBER.

Then shalt thou hear a lie. Thy loving lord Loves none save thee; his heart's pulse beats in thine; No fairer woman, captive of his sword, Caught ever captive and subdued Locrine: The G.o.d of lies bear witness. At the ford Of Humber blood was never shed like wine: Our brother Albanact lived, fought, and died, Never: and I that swear it have not lied.

GUENDOLEN.

Fairer?

CAMBER.

They say it: but what are lies to thee?

GUENDOLEN.

Art thou nor man nor woman?

CAMBER.

Nay--I trust - Man.

GUENDOLEN.

And hast heart to make thy spoil of me?

CAMBER.

Would G.o.d I might!

GUENDOLEN.

Thou art made of lies and l.u.s.t - Earth's worst is all too good for such to see, And yet thine eyes turn heavenward--as they must, Being man's--if man be such as thou--and soil The light they see. Thou hast made of me thy spoil, Thy scorn, thy profit--yea, my whole soul's plunder Is all thy trophy, thy triumphal prize And harvest reaped of thee; nay, trampled under And rooted up and scattered. Yet the skies That see thy trophies reared are full of thunder, And heaven's high justice loves not l.u.s.t and lies.

CAMBER.

Ill then should fare thy lord--if heaven be just, And lies be lies, and lawless love be l.u.s.t.

GUENDOLEN.

Thou liest. I know my lord and thee. Thou liest.

CAMBER.

If he be true and truth be false, I lie.

GUENDOLEN.

Thou art lowest of all men born--while he sits highest.

CAMBER.

Ay--while he sits. How long shall he sit high?

Locrine: A Tragedy Part 12

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Locrine: A Tragedy Part 12 summary

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