ACT I

[_As the Roman Interlude closes, the light passes from the ground-circle to the middle stage, where Prospero—descending his throne with Ariel—moves toward the centre. While they speak together there, Caliban—coming from his cave—crawls part way up the steps and lies flat, occasionally lifting his head to listen._]

PROSPERO So, Ariel, I have harvested for thee These orchards of mine art, and let thee taste Their varied fruitages, some that have ripened In climes auspicious, some that are part decayed. Now from three vineyards—Egypt, Greece, and Rome— I will distill a varicolored wine For Caliban to drink. So, steeped in spirit, Haply he also shall see visions. Hast Thou learned by heart all that I whispered to thee?

ARIEL All, Master.

PROSPERO Tell me part.

ARIEL You will create Out of this world of art three scenes of vision.

PROSPERO And who shall act them—say!

ARIEL My Spirits shall; And I will be their Prologue.

PROSPERO For what purpose?

ARIEL To tutor this beast.

PROSPERO And why?

ARIEL That he may grow To reverence Miranda, and forswear Setebos.

PROSPERO So! and to dispel the Powers Of Setebos, I have transformed his cave To be her temple and my theatre.—Look!

[_Prospero raises his staff toward the darkness that conceals the background. As he does so, increasing light reveals the rude, irregular contours of the cave of Setebos transformed to the architectural lines of a splendid proscenium, in the oblong of which the Cloudy Curtains shut off the inner stage. The idol of Setebos has vanished._

_While this transformation is taking place, the Spirit Choirs of Ariel appear above the proscenium, singing._]

SPIRITS OF ARIEL _In the same abode and cell_ _Where the Toad was wont to dwell,_ _And the Tiger stretched his claw,_ _We have built a shrine of Law:_ _We have chosen the lair of hate_ _To love, imagine and create._

_Out of blood and dross,_ _Out of Setebos,_ _We are risen to show_ _The art of Prospero:_ _Here within his head and heart_ _Our souls are servants of his art._

[_Their appearances vanish above._]

ARIEL Most noble Master! Show me now behind Those cloudy curtains: How have you transformed The cave within?

PROSPERO Come; I will show thee how.

[_Prospero and Ariel pass through the curtains at the centre and disappear within._

_Meanwhile Caliban, peering above the top step, stares in dumb awe at the changed scene. There he is hailed from below by the priest of Setebos, Lust, who comes forth from his cell and calls_:]

LUST Caliban! Remember Setebos!

CALIBAN [_Starting, backs down the steps in scared pantomime._]

Aye, Setebos! But I hear their watch-dogs bark: _Bow-wow!_ I feel their tongue-bites yet—their torments.

LUST Caliban! Restore thy father’s temple.

CALIBAN Yea, but my father had no feet to dance. Curse on their yellow sands! They sting my eyes Still wi’ their blindings. Blast ’em!

[_He springs part way up the steps again._]

LUST Caliban! Restore the priests of Setebos!

CALIBAN His priests! Nay, what if the cock sang—their chanticleer His _Diddle-diddle-dow_! Burneth my spine Still with that crowing.

[_Reënter Prospero through the curtains._]

LUST Hush! he comes again. I await thy call. Cry on _Caligula_ And I will come.

[_Lust goes in the cell._]

PROSPERO [_Calling within the curtains._] Now, Ariel, where art thou? Ariel!

ARIEL [_Stepping forth from behind the curtains, dressed in the garb of Prologue, bows low._]

Here, great Master! I am now Prologus, at your service.

PROSPERO Nay, not mine But _his_. [_Calling._] Come, Caliban: behold thy tutor. Behind these curtains he will show thee now More than thy nature dreams on. If thou obey him And learn mine art, thou shalt go free like him. If not, thou shalt be spitted on a tooth More sharp than Setebos. What sayest?

CALIBAN [_Cringing._] Lord, Art Cock o’ the world, and Caliban thy worm; Yea, only beggeth thee crow no more, nor set Thy dancing dogs to bark at him.

PROSPERO Tush, fool: Wilt thou obey?

CALIBAN Obeyeth both of you.

PROSPERO That’s well. Sit here and watch. Now, Ariel, Thy prologue: then reveal what lies behind.

[_Prospero mounts his throne, on the steps of which Caliban squats below him, watching and listening with growing curiosity. At the centre, before the Cloudy Curtains, Ariel speaks._]

ARIEL From Egypt, by our Master’s art, Behold now, when these curtains part, A scene of fleeting pageantry: Behold where pale Mark Antony Hath fled his sore defeated ships In quest of Cleopatra’s lips, And turned the tides of war amiss To pawn a kingdom for a kiss.— So, by my Spirits’ acting, see Of what strange stuff these humans be!

[_Ariel retires within through the curtains, which then—to the melodic dirge of flutes within—draw apart, disclosing the inner stage, which depicts a scene of vivid Egyptian coloring._]

FIRST INNER SCENE

Against a background of deep blue sky, the barge[14] of Cleopatra lies moored at an ancient wharf:

From the left, along the wharf, enters Mark Antony, attended by Soldiers and Populace in Roman and Egyptian garb.

ANTONY Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon ’t; It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither. I am so hated in the world, that I Have lost my way forever. I have a ship Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, And make your peace with Cæsar.

ALL Fly! Not we.

ANTONY I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; I have myself resolv’d upon a course Which has no need of you; be gone.... Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command....

[His followers depart, and Antony throws himself down on a buttress of the wharf. Meantime from the barge, Cleopatra—who has looked on and listened—is led down to the landing by Charmian and her Attendants, behind whom Eros [a friend of Antony] follows. They approach Antony, who—absorbed in his grief—does not see them.]

EROS Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him....

CHARMIAN Do! Why, what else?

CLEOPATRA Let me sit down. O Juno!

[As Cleopatra sinks down near him, Antony—now beholding her—starts up with a cry of surprise and passionate pain.]

ANTONY No, no, no; no, no!

EROS [Pointing to Cleopatra’s piteous aspect.] See you here, sir?

ANTONY [Hiding his face.] O fie, fie, fie!

CHARMIAN [Bending over her.] Madam!

EROS [Appealing to Antony.] Sir, sir,—

ANTONY Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept His sword e’en like a dancer, while I struck The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and ’twas I That the mad Brutus ended ... yet now—No matter.

[He sinks down again.]

CLEOPATRA [Rising, to her Attendants.] Ah, stand by ... sustain me! O!

EROS Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches. Her head’s declin’d, and death will seize her, but Your comfort makes the rescue.

ANTONY [Drawing still away, despairfully.] I have offended reputation, A most unnoble swerving.

EROS Sir, the queen!

[Cleopatra and Antony face each other—gazing into each other’s eyes.]

ANTONY [Suddenly crying out.]

O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, How I convey my shame out of thine eyes By looking back what I have left behind ’Stroy’d in dishonor.

CLEOPATRA O my lord, my lord, Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought You would have follow’d.

ANTONY Egypt, thou knew’st too well My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, And thou shouldst tow me after. O’er my spirit Thy full supremacy thou knew’st, and that Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods Command me.

CLEOPATRA O my pardon!

ANTONY Now I must To the young man send humble treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness; who With half the bulk o’ the world play’d as I pleased, Making and marring fortunes. You did know How much you were my conqueror; and that My sword, made weak by my affection, would Obey it on all cause.

CLEOPATRA [Touching his arm, clings to him.] Pardon, pardon!

ANTONY [Overcome at her touch.]

Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss. Even this repays me.... Wine! Bring wine, within there: wine! For fortune knows We scorn her most when most she offers blows.

[He embraces Cleopatra.

From the right slaves enter, bearing chalices and wine-beakers. With them come flutists and harpers, making festal music.

Snatching from them a golden cup, Antony raises it aloft with an impassioned gesture, returning the triumphant smile of the Egyptian queen.]

CLOSING, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS SHUT OFF THE SCENE.

[_Meantime Caliban, who has risen absorbed and drawn slowly nearer in child-like fascination, stands for an instant, bewildered. Then, with a cry, he leaps forward in the dim-lit space and gropes along the curtains with arms wide._]

CALIBAN Ho, light! All’s smother: ’tis gone! Yo—yo, all gone— Cloud-swallowed, all! Ah, woman, snake-bright queen, Thou wonder-thing, come back! Ah, where—where—where?

PROSPERO So, so! Canst thou, then, taste my vision, slave? [_He descends the throne toward Caliban._]

CALIBAN [_Staring about him._]

O dazzle-blue, gold-shine, hot lotus smell! Blood-root in bloom, and scarlet water-weed!— O silver sight and tinkle-tickling sound!— Spurteth my body with joy—burst in my brain Enormous moons of wonder!—Float, still float, You purpling sails! Blaze, thou flame-woman! Speak Sparkles of kissing fire!

PROSPERO [_Approaching him._] Nay, art thou touched Beyond thy tiger cravings?

CALIBAN Ho, Lord Master, Lord Chanticleer, unswallow from thy gorge The world thou hast devoured!

PROSPERO [_Pointing toward Ariel, who comes forth again as Prologus through the curtains._]

Ask of thy tutor; He hath revealed that world to thy brute ken.— Ariel, this lump of earth hath dreams within ’t, That now begin to sprout. Send it more sun And watering.

ARIEL Sir, your art is rain and sun: I am but air, to carry its wet or warmth Whereso you list.

PROSPERO So let it fall on him Till he shall wax to a more worthy plant For Miranda’s temple-garden.—Here is my Staff: This wields my power. Here keep it in thy charge Till I return. So, use it as a rod To instruct this bungling cub of Setebos.

ARIEL [_As Prospero goes._] I will, sir.—Go you far?

PROSPERO No farther than The frontiers of mine art. Farewell a while!

[_Prospero passes within through the curtains. Half confiding, half suspicious, Caliban comes near to Ariel and questions him._]

CALIBAN Art, saith! What’s that—his art?

ARIEL ’Tis that which burns Now in thy blood: the same which conjured hither Bright Egypt and the kiss of Antony.

CALIBAN The woman and the kiss! Nay, saidest now ’Tis rain and sun!

ARIEL ’Tis so.

CALIBAN Where falleth his rain? Where shineth his sun?

ARIEL Yonder on the Yellow Sands.

CALIBAN Nay, show me this art! Is ’t hidden in thy hand? Here, let _me_ hold the staff.

[_Caliban reaches for the staff; Ariel raises it warningly._]

ARIEL Stay! Touch it not Lest it shall scorch thy fingers and set fire To the building world. The staff of Prospero Is for his servants, not for slaves, to wield.

CALIBAN [_Drawing back from it, in fear._] Scorcheth my fingers, ah?—So wield it, thou! Show me once more the snake-bright queen.

ARIEL Nay, Egypt No more! But come with me to Prosper’s throne Where _I_ play master now. Here thou shalt sit And watch the battlements of eternal Troy Where Troilus woos inconstant Cressida.

CALIBAN Showest me once more—woman?

ARIEL Even so; For many kinds of woman make mankind.

[_Rising, Ariel points toward the inner stage and speaks chantingly._] Now, from out Time’s storied sphere, Homer’s Troy I summon here, On a dawn when Hector seeks Battle with the besieging Greeks: There, while heroes throng the gates, Cressida her lover ’waits, Casting from a height apart Tangling hooks for Troilus’ heart.— Behold her now, by Prosper’s art! [_Ariel raises his staff._]

SECOND INNER SCENE[15]

The Cloudy Curtains draw back, revealing the battlements of Troy. Above, on a rampart, in the first rays of morning, CRESSIDA appears, with a maiden Attendant.

Below, murmuring crowds are looking toward the outer gates. Among them pass the aged Trojan Queen, and the Greek Helen, in her younger beauty.

CRESSIDA [Peering below.] Who were those went by?

ATTENDANT Queen Hecuba and Helen.

CRESSIDA And whither go they?

ATTENDANT Up to the eastern tower To see the battle—Hector, Before the sun uprose, was harnessed light And to the field goes he.

[Enter behind them Pandarus.]

CRESSIDA Hector’s a gallant man.— [Turning to greet him.] Good morrow, Uncle Pandarus.

PANDARUS [Smiling.] Good morrow, Cousin Cressid. [Trumpets are sounded, off left.] Hark! They are coming from the field. Shall we stand up here and see them as they pass toward Ilium?

CRESSIDA At your pleasure.

[They move to a better vantage. At a gesture from Cressida the Attendant departs.]

PANDARUS Here, here’s an excellent place. I’ll tell you them all by their names, as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest.

CRESSIDA [With a reproving laugh.] Speak not so loud.

[Below, from the left, Trojan warriors, in battle gear, begin to pass by, through the admiring populace who cheer them occasionally.

Among them ÆNEAS PASSES]

PANDARUS That’s Æneas: is not that a brave man? He’s one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shall see anon.

ANTENOR PASSES

CRESSIDA Who’s that?

PANDARUS That’s Antenor: he’s one o’ the soundest judgments in Troy. But when comes Troilus? I’ll show you Troilus anon. If he sees me, you shall see him nod at me.

CRESSIDA [Archly.] Will he give _you_ the nod?

PANDARUS You shall see.

CRESSIDA If he do, the rich shall have more.

HECTOR PASSES

PANDARUS That’s Hector: that, that, look you, that; there’s a fellow! Go thy way, Hector! There’s a brave man, niece.

CRESSIDA O, a brave man!

PANDARUS Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil comes to him, it’s all one. Yonder comes Paris—Paris!

PARIS PASSES

Who said he came hurt home to-day? He’s not hurt. Why, this will do Helen’s heart good now, ha! Would I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.

HELENUS PASSES

CRESSIDA Who’s that?

PANDARUS [Searching with his eyes, grows impatiently expectant.]

That’s Helenus.—I marvel where Troilus is.—That’s Helenus—I think he went not forth to-day.—That’s Helenus.

CRESSIDA Can Helenus fight, uncle?

PANDARUS Helenus? no. Yes, he’ll fight indifferent well.—I marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you hear the people cry “Troilus?”

TROILUS PASSES [As he approaches, the populace cheer him.

His eyes, however, search about till they rest on the battlement, where Cressida, returning his look, starts back, trembling.

Noting both their actions, Pandarus continues flauntingly to point out the young hero.]

’Tis Troilus! There’s a man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus!

CRESSIDA Peace! For shame, peace!

PANDARUS Mark him: note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him, niece; look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hacked than Hector’s. O admirable youth! Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris is dirt to him.

[While he is speaking, Cressida has taken from her hair a flower, knotted its stem to an arrow, and dropped the arrow beneath the rampart, where Troilus lifts it with a smile and happy gesture, bearing it away with him, right. As Pandarus now turns to her, Cressida looks away left and points to others below.]

CRESSIDA Here comes more.

MORE FORCES PASS

PANDARUS Asses, fools, dolts! Chaff and bran! Porridge after meat! I could live and die i’ the eyes of Troilus. Ne’er look, ne’er look! the eagles are gone; crows and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece.

[Enter, above, Troilus’ Boy, who speaks to Pandarus.]

THE BOY Sir, my lord Troilus would instantly speak with you.

PANDARUS Where?

THE BOY At your own house; there he unarms him.

PANDARUS Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.] Fare ye well, good niece. [He goes off, above.]

CRESSIDA Adieu, uncle!

[Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them, speaking aloud to herself:]

O more in Troilus thousandfold I see Than in the glass of Pandar’s praise may be; Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing. Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing.

[Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone. The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the links in his chain armor on his left side. Pointing to it, he calls up toward the battlement.]

TROILUS Cressida!

CRESSIDA [With a glad cry.] Troilus!

[Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus. Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart, where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.]

TROILUS [Calling upward as he mounts.] Cressida! [Just as he is about to reach Cressida,

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE.

[_At the centre Caliban now leaps up in loud, excited laughter. Clapping his hands in the air, he strides toward Ariel on the throne._]

CALIBAN Aha! Troy, Troy! Lips of Troyland and Egypt! Lovers in links of gold! Ho, wine of woman Bubbling in vats of war!—drinketh you all Caliban, Caliban, son of Setebos.—Ariel, Learnest me Art? Lo, now: _I_ am his Artist! Tell him, Lord Prospero, Caliban createth Glories more ’stounding still. Art? Ho, ’tis God’s play! But _me_? Am God i’ the mire: can make me Troy And purple Egypt out of the mud i’ my palm; Giveth me only that—his little play stick [_Pointing to the staff in Ariel’s hand._] To stir in the mud withal.

ARIEL Not yet!—This staff Is wrought to stir the spirits of the air, Not dabble i’ the slime.

CALIBAN Why so? From bog-slime bloometh The lotus, and the sea-lark feedeth her young Along the salt flats.— [_With childish wheedling._] Prithee—the staff?

ARIEL [_Descending the throne._] ’Twould burn thee. Touch not till thou art free. Yet patience, monster, For thou hast learned to answer well, and growest Rarely in thought and speech.

CALIBAN [_Tickled to laughter._] Yea, clever monster Soon groweth monstrous clever. More art, fine Ariel! Let Caliban speak thy Prologue.

ARIEL Hush!—Miranda!

[_From her shrine Miranda comes forth, with the Muses. Seeing the two, she pauses astonished._]

MIRANDA Nay!—Is this Ariel?

ARIEL ’Tis I—Prologus. Will you hear me, Mistress?

MIRANDA [_As Caliban approaches._] Thou!—thou, Caliban!

ARIEL My pupil.

CALIBAN [_With confiding assurance._] Liketh well thy father’s art, Spring-i’-the-air.

MIRANDA God speed thy learning, monster! I am more fain to help thee in that task Than all else in the world.

CALIBAN [_Astonished and eager._] Wouldst help me—thou?

MIRANDA How happy, if I could!

CALIBAN Yea, canst thou!—Hark: [_Glancing from his garb to Ariel’s._]

Let me wear glory, too! What booteth me To be his Artist, if I wear no cloth To show my glory? He there talketh no Prologue Without his toga. Tog me, too, in brave Colors!

MIRANDA Well thought on. [_To one of the Muses._] Quick, Euterpe: Fetch Bright vesture forth.

ARIEL For Caliban?

MIRANDA For whom So fit? The need of beauty lies Most near to them who lack it.

[_Euterpe returns, bringing bright garments, which she and the other Maidens help now to put upon Caliban._]

So, dear Muses: Lay on!

CALIBAN [_Delightedly tries to survey himself._]

Ha, Sycorax, an thou wert here now To look on this thy son!

[_He parades, with swelling pleasure, before the Muses._]

Gaze well, good Spirits! Now, Ariel, thy pupil soon shall teach thee What thing this Art is: yea, teach Prospero A lesson in ’s own lore.

MIRANDA [_To Ariel, who is about to protest._]

Pray, let him tarry This time with us. He is too full of dreams To act us harm. Speak on thy Prologue.

CALIBAN [_Still parading._] Prologue! Aye, good: _my_ Prologue shall come after.

ARIEL Mistress, Keep here, this staff for your protection.

[_Accepting the staff from Ariel, Miranda takes seat on the shrine, where the Muses range themselves about her._]

MIRANDA So! Be near us, Caliban.

CALIBAN [_Moving to the shrine steps, speaks to Ariel._]

What showest now?

ARIEL

[_At centre, before the curtains._] Now, in Time’s emblazoned tome Egypt, Greece, turn page for Rome.

CALIBAN [_Mutters aloud._] Rome, ha! I’ll show you Rome!

ARIEL Rocked by mighty Cæsar’s fall Glooms the world in battle pall, Where by midnight, worn and spent, Weary Brutus, in his tent, Watches ’mid the Roman host. There the pallid Cæsar’s ghost Rises from his candle-flame Accusing.—Who shall bear that blame? Can Brutus wake a world from shame?

[_Ariel disappears through the curtains. Miranda raises the staff._]

THIRD INNER SCENE

The Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing the tent of Brutus, by moonlight.

Brutus—his outer armor laid aside—sits on a couch: near him Lucius, a boy, nods drowsily over a stringed instrument. After a brief pause, Brutus—gazing at him—speaks wistfully:

BRUTUS Bear with me, good boy: Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

LUCIUS Aye, my lord, an’t please you.

BRUTUS It does, my boy: I should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

LUCIUS I have slept, my lord, already.

BRUTUS It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again; I will not hold thee long. If I do live I will be good to thee.

LUCIUS [Tuning his instrument, sings dreamily:]

Fear no more the frown o’ the great; Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the seed is as the oak. The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this and come to dust.

[Lucius falls asleep.]

BRUTUS This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber, Lay’st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-night; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.— Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turned down Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

[The Ghost of Cæsar appears.]

How ill this taper burns!—Ha! Who comes here? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me. Art thou anything? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare? Speak to me what thou art.

[In the darkness, dark ghostly shapes, hardly visible, appear to urge forward the dead Cæsar, who alone is luminous.]

THE GHOST Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

BRUTUS Why comest thou?

THE GHOST To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

BRUTUS Well; then I shall see thee again?

THE GHOST Aye, at Philippi.

BRUTUS Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.

[The Ghost and the dim Shapes disappear. Brutus rises.]

Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest: Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.— [Calling aloud.] Boy, Lucius! Romans, Romans! Awake—awake!

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE

[_Instantly, in the semi-darkness without, Caliban—with a great cry—springs among the Muses, snatches from Miranda the staff, and rushes with it to the centre of the middle stage, shouting aloud_:]

CALIBAN Awake, Romans, awake!

[_Low thunders growl, and sharp flashes glimmer about him._]

MIRANDA [_Cries out, appalled._] The staff! His staff! Touch not its power, lest thou lay waste the world!

CALIBAN

[_Grasping the staff, staggers and sways wildly with it, as though being shocked by an invisible force._]

Rome! Now do I hold the roof-beam o’ the world. Now am _I_ lord of lightnings: Lo, mine art Shaketh the throne of Prospero.

[_He strides upon the throne, raising the staff._]

Awake, Imperial Rome! Return, ye snake-bright women Of Troy and Egypt! Stain these yellow sands Wine-red with spillings of your wreathèd bowls, And let the orgied priests of revel reign.— Caligula, be crowned by Setebos! Caligula! Caligula! Caligula!

[_While he cries aloud, the Powers of Setebos come forth from the cell beneath, clad as Roman men, women, and slaves and, joined by the Roman Interlude Pageant on the ground-circle, raise the Emperor on a palanquin upon their shoulders, and bear him up the steps to the middle stage, shouting “Caligula!”_

_Here a scene of mingled riot and orgy follows:_

_Women dancers with golden bowls, slaves shackled and driven with whips, rabble groups scrambling for bread loaves flung them by heralds, armed soldiery, and gorgeous patrician lords: these swarm in a sordid saturnalia, from the midst of which the masked form of Caligula rises dominant in splendor. At his gesture, slaves tear the Muses from their shrine, and give them over to the revellers._

_High above all, clutching the staff, his huge limbs rioting grotesque from his silken garments, Caliban dances on the throne of Prospero._

_Below, bass voices of invisible choirs chant through the din_:

_“Setebos! Setebos! Thou art Setebos!”_

_Seized from the throne with the Muses, Miranda—at the centre—is borne in faint dread to the reaching arms of Caligula, who is about to place upon her his crown, when a sudden pealing of silvery trumpets strikes silence over all. In awe the revellers gaze upward, and turn toward the background, listening._

_Above them there, from the darkness, appears a colossal_ CROSS, _burning with white fire_.

_Caligula drops his crown._

_Shadow falls on the colorful pageantry, and all sink slowly to their knees, as the Spirits of Ariel appear again above—their luminous wings outspread like seraphim._

_At either end one blows a slim tapering trumpet._

_High and clear, then, their choirs chant in Gregorian unison_:

SPIRITS OF ARIEL

Vexilla Regis pródeunt; Fulget Crucis mystérium, Quo carne carnis Cónditor Suspénsus est patíbulo.

Quo vulneratis ínsuper Mucróne diro lanceæ, Ut nos laváret crimine, Manavit unda et sánguine.

O Crux, ave, spes, unica: Hoc Passiónis témpore, Auge piis justítiam Reisque dona veniam.

Te summa Deus Trínitas, Collaudet omnis spiritus: Quos per Crucis mystérium Salvas, rege per sæcula.

_During this chant, the dim revellers beneath bow their bodies more low._

_And now, to faint organ music, the Cloudy Curtains, parting, reveal the_ INNER STAGE _hung like an early Christian shrine in a catacomb—with primitive tapestries of dusky blue and gold. Against these in the glow of candles, an image of haloed Saint Agnes holds a white lamb, which silent shepherds are adoring. This group remains motionless as a tableau._

_Then silently from either side two priests come forth with swinging censers. Passing forward and down the steps to the ground-circle, they are followed in the dim light by the Roman revellers, who rise and pass off through the Interlude gates._

_Last of all rises Caligula, who pauses hesitant, looking back where Miranda still kneels, now grouped about by her Muses._

_As he stoops to lift his crown from the earth, two Figures in the_ INNER SCENE—_a Shepherd Boy, and a Shepherd wrapt in a hide mantle—stir from the still picture and come forward in a circle of light, while_ THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE _behind them, and above the white cross vanishes_.

_Speaking from the place of light to the Emperor’s form in shadow, the Shepherd calls to him_:]

THE SHEPHERD Caligula!

THE EMPEROR Who calls?

THE SHEPHERD Reveal thyself— What thing thou art.

_[Stepping slowly into the light, the_ EMPEROR _bows himself before the_ SHEPHERD, _holding up his crown which the Shepherd takes and says with a gesture_:]

Lay off thy mask.

[_Rising, the Emperor puts of his mask, revealing himself as the_ PRIEST OF SETEBOS.]

Hail, Lust!

LUST [_To the Shepherd._] Hail, Prospero!

PROSPERO [_Putting of his sheepskin cloak, which the boy takes from him._] Return to Setebos. [_To the Shepherd Boy._] Ariel, lead him below.

ARIEL So, Master! [_Ariel leads Lust away to the cell beneath._]

MIRANDA [_Rising, goes to Prospero’s arms._] Father!

[_From the outer dimness, Caliban—who, since the appearance of the burning Cross, has lain flat on the throne steps— now grovels forward [trailing his silken garment by one sleeve] and flings the staff of Prospero into the light space._]

CALIBAN No more! Will never touch it more!

PROSPERO [_Staring at the staff._] A thousand years To build, and build for beauty, yet in one flare Of riot lust, a lubber idiot Confounds time and my toil.—Ah, daughter, daughter! How shall mine art reclaim this lapsing ape From his own bondage?

MIRANDA Sir, my heart is shaken; Yet the sweet sight of Agnes and her lamb Hath shown new comfort.

[_Stooping, she lifts the staff and holds it toward him._]

Therefore, even as a Shepherd, Take up thy staff in patience, and urge still onward This poor sloughed sheep.

PROSPERO Yea, patience! Sun, moon, stars, And all that waxes hath its waning-hour; But patience is the night behind the stars, Steadfast through all eclipse.

[_With his staff, he touches Caliban where he lies cringed._]

Stir, thou thick clot Of clay and god-spittle! Let thine atoms thaw To mud, where Prosper may imprint once more His blurrèd seal.

CALIBAN [_Hoarsely, half rising._] Mud: yea, methought to be His Artist, and make dream-things of mine own Like Ariel his spirits, yet now—am mud.

MIRANDA [_Pitifully._] Nay, star-dust!

ARIEL [_Returning._] Master, from those far frontiers You visited, have you not brought us back More pageants of your art?

PROSPERO Yes, Ariel: Back from the dim bourns of the Middle Age Of Germany, France, Spain, and Italy. And now, for this slave’s tutelage, I’ll show you Their quaint moralities and mad-cap mirth. Come hither, and watch: Lo, olden Germany! Pageant of the north, appear.

_SECOND INTERLUDE_[16]

_Once more, through the community gates of the ground-circle, appear, in contrasted ritual, successive Folk-Groups, that perform now episodic phases of the dramatic art of Europe in the Middle Ages. Concluding, each group departs._

_First comes the Germanic, in part grimly austere, in part naïvely grotesque. On a portable, three-tiered stage this group enacts both audience and players of a popular morality play: a pantomime scene depicting—in heaven, earth, and hell—the tragic, romantic_ HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS.

_This Action is followed by the contrasted splendor of a mediæval French scene. Here, in presence of the Kings of France and England, on_ THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD, _is performed a colorful tournament on horseback_.

_Last follows a fusion of the Spanish and Italian groups in the Third Action: a light-hearted dramatic Scherzo, full of laughter, knavery, and romantic love, performed—in the midst of a festa—by the pied actors of the_ COMMEDIA DELL’ ARTE.

_During this last Action, Prospero and Ariel [above] have withdrawn through the Cloudy Curtains, leaving Caliban alone, staring spellbound at the many-hued festival below him._