The Mortal Gods and Other Plays Part 39

_Ste._ That my child?

_Pel._ Yours, friend.

_Ste._ Would she had never left Archippe's lap For Sachinessa's! Patience, cool my tongue!

But I've done better by your Pyrrha!

_Pel._ Soft, Beseech you, Stesilaus! Here's no place For trumpeting our secret. And brief time Forbids it present voice. The hour is on To hear the people's answer. Come, my lord.

Your comrades go before you. We're past late.

_Ste._ Friend Pelagon, though courtesy be pressed To th' kibe, I'll urge you keep at home. 'Tis best You be not seen in this. The lords, who know You lean to Sparta,--and for that all thanks,-- Are p.r.i.c.ked therewith to oppose us, when they else Might voice us favor.

_Pel._ Ay, they know me, friend.

My eye sets them at guard. They feel it, sir!

Puts them on screw. Well, so,--I'll stay behind.

But let me set you forth. [_Exeunt, upper right_]

_Bia._ Is 't trick, or truth?

_Cre._ Touch me! A needle's point Could find no spot amazement hath not taken!

_Bia._ Didst hear it Creon? Pyrrha an Athenian!

O, words of miracle, if ye be true,-- Friend, friend, I'm in a whirl upon a way To use this strange unearthment for the good Of Athens. You'll be silent. Creon?

_Cre._ Nay, I think----

_Bia._ And now I've lost fair Phania!

_Cre._ Lost?

_Bia._ With Mars i' the dusk of this debated time, The Athenian general may not wive himself With Sparta.

_Cre._ True!

_Bia._ I might give up command, And be no more my country's armored watch....

Nay, Attica is first! That's sworn. I'll plunge The sacrificial knife deep as my love.

And now 'tis done. Ah, Creon, tend thee well My gentle loss.

_Cre._ This sets thee o'er thyself!

O n.o.blest bounty that in grace compeers With emulous Heaven! What in me can pay----

_Bia._ No more of 't now. But what a secret this!

If 't solely were my own--

_Cre._ It is, my lord!

'Tis yours. I have no speech, no tongue for 't!

_Bia._ Thanks, My Creon, thanks! And will you go once more To th' street, where now it seems I have some need Of loyal ears?

_Cre._ I serve you, Biades. [_Exit, upper right_]

_Bia._ Fast hooked, and feels no barb. If he'll lie dark Till I would stir the waters.... Is it truth?

Pyrrha! Athenian born and Spartan bred!

By Mars and Eros! Here's a captain's bride!

There's flutter in me like a forest shook With waking birds!

[_Re-enter Phania, still weeping_]

_Bia._ Why, Phania! Such a shower, My kitkin!

_Pha._ Stesilaus sh-shook me so!

Called me a sque-e-aking pewit!

_Bia._ Ha! He did?

Well, listen to me, Phania. Come, look up.

[_Lifts her chin_]

A maid with little eyes should never weep.

Leave that to Juno orbs. They swim in sorrow Like full moons in a lake, but beads like yours Are only bright when dry. Shun grief as you Shun mud. [_Exit, middle left_]

_Pha._ [_Gasping_] Why--Biades--he's gone!

He said---- Oh, oh! If I could die----

[_Sobs with abandon. Enter Alcanor, upper left. He pauses before her. She looks up bewildered_]

_Alc._ Ah, gentle star, What shrouds thee in this rain? Yet thou'rt not hid.

Thy beauty s.h.i.+ning on these clouds of pearl Makes every drop that dies reflecting thee A little, falling sun.

_Pha._ Oh, Biades said---- He said--he said----

_Alc._ If what he said so troubles, Let me unsay it with a kiss that makes Trouble forgot and dumb. [_Kisses her_]

_Pha._ [_On his bosom_] I'm not--I'm not-- Not _ugly_, sir?

_Alc._ O, dove of Aphrodite!

Earth stores her beauty in this single face, That she may show one jewel to the skies When G.o.ds boast they have all!

[_Phania purrs comfortedly, then releases herself_]

_Pha._ How dare you, sir, Attack me? Who are you?

_Alc._ I do not know.

_Pha._ Not know?

_Alc._ Nothing of self or where I am.

It may be those are trees on giant guard, And these bright peeping things are flowers' eyes, And this is happy gra.s.s we stand upon, And that blue watcher is the faithful sky, But I know naught except my soul is yours, O, maid-magician, in whose snare I lie Kissing the net that binds me! [_Kissing her fallen curls_]

_Pha._ But you know Your name!

_Alc._ Not in this world a minute old That now I find me in, but in time past I was Alcanor, Stesilaus' son.