Locrine: A Tragedy Part 14

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But the prince - My brother, whom thou knowest by proof, not fame, A coward whose heart is all a flickering flame That fain would burn and dares not--whence had he The poison that he gave her? Speak: this came By chance--mishap--most haplessly for thee Who hadst my heart in thine, and madest of me No more than might for folly's sake or fear's Be bared for even such eyes as his to see?

Old friend that wast, I would not see thy tears.

G.o.d comfort thy dishonour!

DEBON.

All these years Have I not served thee?



LOCRINE.

Yea. So cheer thee now.

DEBON.

Cheered be the traitor, whom the true man cheers?

Nay, smite me: G.o.d can be not such as thou, And will not d.a.m.n me with forgiveness. How Hast thou such heart, to comfort such as me?

G.o.d's thunder were less fearful than the brow That frowns not on thy friend found false to thee.

Thy friend--thou said'st--thy friend. Strange friends are we.

Nay, slay me then--nay, slay me rather.

LOCRINE.

Friend, Take comfort. G.o.d's wide-reaching will shall be Here as of old accomplished, though it blend All good with ill that none may mar or mend.

Thy works and mine are ripples on the sea.

Take heart, I say: we know not yet their end.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.--Gardens of the Palace.

Enter CAMBER and MADAN.

CAMBER.

Hath no man seen thee?

MADAN.

Had he seen, and spoken, His head should lose its tongue. I am far away In Cornwall.

CAMBER.

Where the front of war is broken By the onset of thy force--the rebel fray Shattered. Had no man--canst thou surely say? - Knowledge betimes, to give us knowledge here - Us babblers, tongues made quick with fraud and fear - That thou wast bound from Cornwall hither?

MADAN.

None, I think, who knowing of steel and fire and cord That they can smite and burn and strangle one Would loose without leave of his parting lord The tongue that else were sharper than a sword To cut the throat it sprang from.

CAMBER.

Nephew mine, I have ever loved thee--not thy sire Locrine More--and for very and only love of thee Have I desired, or ever even thy mother Beheld thee, here to know of thee and me Which loves her best--her and thy sire my brother.

MADAN.

He being away, far hence--and so none other - Not he--should share the knowledge?

CAMBER.

Surely not He. Knowest thou whither hence he went?

MADAN.

G.o.d wot, No: haply toward some hidden paramour.

CAMBER.

And that should set not, for thy mother's sake, And thine, the heart in thee on fire?

MADAN.

An hour Is less than even the time wherein we take Breath to let loose the word that fain would break, And cannot, even for pa.s.sion,--if we set An hour against the length of life: and yet Less in account of life should be those hours - Should be? should be not, live not, be not known, Not thought of, not remembered even as ours, - Whereon the flesh or fancy bears alone Rule that the soul repudiates for its own, Rejects and mocks and mourns for, and reclaims Its nature, none the ign.o.bler for the shames That were but shadows on it--shed but shade And perished. If thy brother and king, my sire -

CAMBER.

No king of mine is he--we are equal, weighed Aright in state, though here his throne stand higher.

MADAN.

So be it. I say, if even some earth-born fire Have ever lured the loftiest head that earth Sees royal, toward a charm of baser birth And force less G.o.dlike than the sacred spell That links with him my mother, what were this To her or me?

CAMBER.

To her no more than h.e.l.l To souls cast forth who hear all h.e.l.l-fire hiss All round them, and who feel the red worm's kiss Shoot mortal poison through the heart that rests Immortal: serpents suckled at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, Fire feeding on her limbs, less pain should be Than sense of pride laid waste and love laid low, If she be queen or woman: and to thee -

MADAN.

To me that wax not woman though I know This, what shall hap or hap not?

CAMBER.

Were it so, It should not irk thee, she being wronged alone; Thy mother's bed, and not thy father's throne, Being soiled with usurpation. Ay? but say That now mine uncle and her sire lies dead And helpless now to help her, or affray The heart wherein her ruin and thine were bred, Not she were cast forth only from his bed, But thou, loathed issue of a contract loathed Since first their hands were joined not but betrothed, Wert cast forth out of kings.h.i.+p? stripped of state, Unmade his son, unseated, unallowed, Discrowned, disorbed, discrested--thou, but late Prince, and of all men's throats acclaimed aloud, Of all men's hearts accepted and avowed Prince, now proclaimed for some sweet b.a.s.t.a.r.d's sake Peasant?

MADAN.

Thy sire was sure less man than snake, Though mine miscall thee brother.

CAMBER.

Locrine: A Tragedy Part 14

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Locrine: A Tragedy Part 14 summary

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