ACT IV
SCENE: _The Hall of the Frankish Palace. Early morning; the remains of a banquet on the table, drinking-cups, wine bottles, faded leaves._
[_A_ SERVANT _is wiping away the stains of wine from the floor_.]
SERVANT.
It is a cheerful thing to make all clean When one is brisk and cool: this early air Before the sun gets up is fit for men To breathe when they are working. Spot on spot! A stranger to the revel of last night Would take it there had been a massacre To daub the floor so thickly.
[_Enter another_ SERVANT.]
2ND SERVANT.
What a strew Of glass and muddy wine-drops! Come up close And listen. There’s a curious monk outside Who asks to see the King--almost a beggar, And yet a red embroidered riding-cloak Flaunts round his ragged sackcloth; while his voice Has such a wanton ring we need not trouble Lest he should take the scandal of this room Too much to heart. The jolly soul can pipe!
[_A voice is heard richly humming._]
_Wine is for drinking, Glasses for chinking-- Fellowship, pleasure, Of the full cup: Lift it up, lift it up! And let us be gay and be friends without measure._
1ST SERVANT.
A monk indeed! Why we must drink again! A minstrel!
2ND SERVANT.
And his comrade took the horses As he had been a squire.
1ST SERVANT.
Oh, but the song! I never heard another one like this.
2ND SERVANT.
Man, they are all the same: but then he sings it As if he had just learnt that grapes have juice, That makes it sound so well. You’re pouring wine?
1ST SERVANT.
Yes, he must drink for that. Ho, there again! Have you not caught the line?
[_They join in as the voice sings_]
_These are the treasure Of the full cup; Lift it up, lift it up! And let us be gay and be friends without measure._ Ha, ha!
2ND SERVANT.
Come in!
[_Enter_ CARLOMAN.]
You praise deep drinking--you ... For shame! A churchman! But ... How thin!
1ST SERVANT.
What eyes!
CARLOMAN.
Shall I have long to wait? Is Pepin ill, Or is he grown luxurious? I would say That I remember how your King is famed For industry. He does not lie abed?
1ST SERVANT.
No, father.
CARLOMAN.
Call me brother if you will. Why do you choke with laughter? I am ready To laugh with you, to laugh to very tears At what I am and have been. Do not hide A thing so good and bright as laughter--Eh?
2ND SERVANT.
Mad! It were best to leave him to himself.
[_They draw back._]
CARLOMAN.
[_Looking round the room_] Throw the door wide open. Here we need Fresh air even more than water. How the wine Cries from the ground--shut in with walls, and cast Below men’s feet, a slough where animals Might wallow, and so sour! Let in the breeze. Let in the dawn outside there!
1ST SERVANT.
[_propping the door_] After all He is abstemious and sad at sin. Look how profoundly sad!
2ND SERVANT.
Such twins of temper Are frequent with the crazy. Now he drops His mantle, have you ever seen such limbs-- A very scare-crow’s!
1ST SERVANT.
But a kindly smile.
2ND SERVANT.
He touches things and lifts them up and down Just like an idiot. We must warn the King.
[_Exeunt._]
CARLOMAN.
A feast, how nasty! Dabbled vine-leaves, vessels Broken to shivers, the inspiring juice Black on the boards--a feast! Can happiness Leave refuse such as this? It visits slaves, And then its track is loathsome. Ah, the air Has entered like a wedge, keen, reaching me Through all the mustiness ... and now I breathe! The door is not enough, the windows too ... [_opening one_] There! How it enters! [_turning toward another window_] In this room I lived; It is not altered? No, the fireplace, east; My chair in front, and hers ... but they are crowned At present; and my name upon that bench. It is more terrible than nightmare--this Besieging of one’s life by chairs and walls And memories. Ah yes, the walls, the walls, They do the mischief; and this reek of age From every corner sickens worse than stale Imprisoned fumes of wine. More air!
[_He throws wide all the windows: then leans out of the last. While his back is turned_, GENEVIVA _staggers drowsily in, reels to the board, tries to drink, then flings herself against the throne sleeping_.]
O Earth, How beautiful to think I travelled on And on, yet rode against no wall, so freely The outworks of your sky gave up their space. My brain is tired with interest: what men do Or speak enthrals me, I who often paced This room as blind to anything alive As if a child unborn.
[_Impulsively beginning to pace._]
And yet, my God, How great a Captain thou wilt have in me If this bond-King, this Pepin can be freed; If I can do this thing, while Astolph batters The very gates of Rome.
[_pausing at sight of_ GENEVIVA.]
But who is this Strange, beautiful, wild woman? Oh, how delicious Her arms, her bosom! Through the sodden hair, Trailing the ground, what glitter, and how clean This naked shoulder lies against the floor. Why, this is Sleep itself!
[_He comes close._]
O Geneviva, So you too have learnt freedom, and are grown How marvellous in beauty!--Marcomir!--
[MARCOMIR _stands at the door_.]
He must not see her drunken and so flushed; He shall not. [_moving quickly to the door_.]
I am looking every moment For Pepin; do not enter.
[MARCOMIR _turns and goes out_.]
Oh, my shame, If she should open her gray eyes on me, And find me frocked and tonsured ... for the sun Strikes sheer across her face.
[_He bends over her; she wakes, looks up, laughs in his face, and then speaks._]
GENEVIVA.
So young a guardian! Most holy father, but I am not dead; Do not bring rosemary, or sprinkle me With holy drops. [_rubbing her eyes_] They call this morning sleep A beauty sleep. You must not stare so hard.
CARLOMAN.
But do not laugh.
GENEVIVA.
I must; you are a monk Shame-faced and awkward. [_rising_] Have you travelled far?
CARLOMAN.
I came on embassy: the Lombard King ...
GENEVIVA.
These kings and princes! But whoever rules Young men must have their pleasure. You and I-- Shall we not drink together?
[_She pours wine into a goblet--he drinks_]
God, what thirst! Now you must rest awhile.
CARLOMAN.
Who are you, lady?
GENEVIVA.
So should a novice lisp. I am a woman.
CARLOMAN.
Glorious!
GENEVIVA.
And _you_? [_she laughs._]
CARLOMAN.
Oh, do not jest with me; You bring a devil to the paradise It is to gaze on you. I am escaped From convent-walls, the wrong, the bitterness!
GENEVIVA.
These monks are cruel, cruel, and I shudder At their embrace; yet if I have a joy It is to bring their manhood back to them. Ha, ha! To see them look the murderer’s guilt After a moment’s pleasure in my arms. You shall not slip me.
CARLOMAN.
I have left the convent A novice, as you say. But who are you So terrible in pity that you touch My hand and draw me to you, though my habit And shaven hair insult you worse, more grossly Than the most wanton bearing you have met In any other man? I am ashamed That you should see me thus.
GENEVIVA.
My dearest lovers Forsook me to be monks. You are as one That comes to bring me tidings of the dead, The holy dead who have no evil thoughts Or trouble from temptation. [_She laughs bitterly_] For their sakes You are beloved.
CARLOMAN.
Then put away all speech: When love draws on me put it by as scholars Their task when night falls thick upon the page. Bend over me and kiss me. Do not laugh-- I love you.
GENEVIVA.
Did you ever love before?
CARLOMAN.
_Never._
GENEVIVA.
Then I must tell you who I am: A harlot ... in my palace--Do not wince!
[_she looks at him doubtfully_]
I had a husband counted me a temptress And fled: I laugh now to remember it. I loved once; he I loved became a monk, And therefore I make sport of holy men. I would not scoff at you, not tempt you even. You have deep, burning eyes.
CARLOMAN.
He was a monk? His name, who fled you? Would you have your pleasure With me, his name!
GENEVIVA.
[_to herself, shaking her head_] _He_ had oblivious eyes! [_vindictively_] My lover’s name was Marcomir.
CARLOMAN.
The monk Who journeys with me on this embassy Is Marcomir. If you are amorous still Of him ...
GENEVIVA.
Not now--no more. I am afraid ... Who are you? You are surely of my race, Have known me in my youth. A flushing shame Breaks on me--
CARLOMAN.
And to find you are beloved Moves you?
GENEVIVA.
Not that! I hear it every day. It is too stale a story. Could I love----
CARLOMAN.
[_Observing_ MARCOMIR _passing and re-passing the windows_]
How dare he watch us! But I recollect You told me he had been your paramour.
GENEVIVA.
You come ... he comes, I mean, from Mount Soracte-- Then ... yes, I will have speech with him.
CARLOMAN.
[_bitterly_] Oh, gossip, The convent’s gossip. I can furnish that. If you desire him carnally, I yield; But if ...
GENEVIVA.
He knows so much of long ago.
CARLOMAN.
[_impulsively_] Then he shall speak.
GENEVIVA.
Not now; you must not call! Not now; for he remembers--
CARLOMAN.
Ay, the harlot Was once a girl, the monk was once a man. If you would speak of life Before it was apprenticed to these trades-- Of life and youth, virginity and love, My ear will be as ripe for your confession As his. We all remember; but our wisdom Is to forget: our powers of penitence Must be enfranchised, sin itself set free, No clog or fetter on us!
GENEVIVA.
Carloman, My husband!
CARLOMAN.
Your free lover. Oh, I burn, Burn toward your beauty! How can you forgive The years I simply owned you!
GENEVIVA.
Am I sweet, So sweet to you--these lips so many men Have kissed, this body.... But you bid me speak Of life and youth, virginity and love, And by a miracle I can. We two Can argue of such matters.
[_As_ MARCOMIR _passes she calls_] Marcomir!
[_She restrains_ CARLOMAN _and goes to the door_.]
No, _I_ must summon him.
[MARCOMIR _enters_.]
Were we not happy, Those days we sat together quite alone Praising and talking of him? We adored, We each adored him, but we had no part In that lone heart of his. Now all is changed He loves me--
MARCOMIR.
Lady Geneviva!
GENEVIVA.
No-- The harlot, loves the harlot. You can tell me So much of him. What, with him every day!-- All through the golden summer and no rain, All through the autumn and its violence! Did he fall sick of fever?
MARCOMIR.
I have known So little of the seasons. Day and night I prayed that God would keep you chaste. No prayer Of mine was ever answered.
CARLOMAN.
[_to_ MARCOMIR] Dare you pray That this should be or that? The only prayer That is not futile in impiety Is like a plunge beneath a river’s flow To feel the strength and pureness of the life That courses through the world.
GENEVIVA.
Ah, yes, to bathe, And then to rise up clean. [_to_ MARCOMIR] The very moment He spoke of youth, virginity and love I prayed: I am alive. O Marcomir, And there are other words of fellowship, Of joy and youth-time. Let us hold him dear Because he has delivered us; together Let us give thanks, give courage each to each Unenvious; let us talk of him once more, Though with a difference--I will not use Your comradeship profanely as I did, To set you up against him in caprice, Then leave you wild and empty. He has much To pardon; you have more.
MARCOMIR.
No, no!
CARLOMAN.
Ah, no-- Not pardon. Where’s the need? We mortal men Are brought to riot, brought to abstinence That we may grow on either ready soil The mustard-seed of pleasure, that is filled With wings and sunny leaves. As time goes by We shall have true relations each with each, And with clean hearts receive the usufruct Of what is best, and growing better still In every soul among us. [_leading her up to_ MARCOMIR] Geneviva, His kiss will free your penitence, and teach you He never could regret the past, because It made to-day.
MARCOMIR.
[_kissing her_] Now, and beyond, beyond Your friend--and lover. I have prayed, like you, The difficult is possible as once. O life, O Geneviva, I were doomed Indeed, if I should dare to rob myself Of all the joy it is to be with you; That were to die forever. What, reject The gift you have for me, because for him You have a different gift! But take my passion, As I shall learn to take your friendship--each Accepting what the other has to give, All will be well between us.
[_Enter_ PEPIN.]
PEPIN.
Holy brothers, At last I join you. Come, this is unseemly ... A pleasant dame--but not within my palace Shall you be tempted to forsake your vows. [_to_ GENEVIVA.] Go, get your lovers on the highway; here You bring disgrace. (_to_ CARLOMAN _in a low voice_) A courtesan.
CARLOMAN.
My wife.
PEPIN.
Thor! are you crazy?
CARLOMAN.
And I trusted you, I left her in your charge. Where is my child?
PEPIN.
Dead in the cloister half a year ago ... That was no fault of mine. As for your wife--
CARLOMAN.
[_to_ MARCOMIR] Take Lady Geneviva to her rooms, Her rooms within the palace. [_to_ GENEVIVA, _as she goes from him_] So our boy Is dead! Can you forgive me?
[_He shudders and bows his head. Exeunt_ MARCOMIR _and_ GENEVIVA.]
PEPIN.
On my oath, I could not be her keeper, Carloman.
CARLOMAN.
No, that is no man’s office. Of herself She was what she has been, and each of us Should say no word against her to our shame, Nor any word to one another more Than what we just have said. These fearful things Should be within a fosse below all speech; While we live sound above them and forget. I come to you....
PEPIN.
The same, magnanimous, My brother, as of old. [_laying his hand on_ CARLOMAN’S _shoulder_] What bones!
CARLOMAN.
Ah, yes. I have not flesh as full of life as yours; Why, your mere touch can warm one like the sun.
PEPIN.
Six years ago! You come as if the dead Could rise and make a visit.
CARLOMAN.
[_gasping_] Pepin, hush! I have been dead, and yet I am no ghost; You strike me through with anguish.
PEPIN.
But you suffer Unnecessary pain. I give you welcome With all my heart; yet you yourself must know Your presence in the place where once you ruled Is--well, unlooked for.
CARLOMAN.
[_vehemently_] Brother, I can prove I am no spectre, outcast from the fortunes Of breathing men,--that I too have a part Once more in worldly business. I am come....
PEPIN.
[_close to him_] What are you come for?
CARLOMAN.
I am come to live, To share again your counsels.
PEPIN.
You are come For _what_?
CARLOMAN.
Once more to think of France, and act As you and I determine.
PEPIN.
Willingly I hear advice; but now the throne is mine Decision rests with me and not with you, Who have been shut away from everything But prayers and convent-policy. Forgive, We are no longer equals--you a Saint, I a mere statesman. But you have not said One word about the cloister.
CARLOMAN.
Do we waste Much talk on vaults, we men who are alive?
PEPIN.
And yet you chose it!
CARLOMAN.
Now I choose again.
PEPIN.
You cannot. Are you mad? Who sent you here?
CARLOMAN.
Astolph the Lombard.
PEPIN.
Humph! What prelate gave Authority to him? He could not use Your services by force.
CARLOMAN.
I left the convent At his request alone, in opposition To bishop Damiani. I am free! I proved it, acting freely.
PEPIN.
Whew!--this Astolph ...?
CARLOMAN.
Would save you from alliance with the Pope, Alliance with a foreign tyranny, Opposed to human life and thwarting it. Astolph is on your borders, and a King Is more your natural fellow than this Pope, Who seizes on the natural power of Kings, Confusing his tiara with their crowns. I speak the truth, for Zacharias travels In haste to put his yoke on France and you. Before he can arrive ...
PEPIN.
The Pope is here.
CARLOMAN.
Impossible!
PEPIN.
He reached us yesterday.
CARLOMAN.
Pepin, you are in league with him?
PEPIN.
I am.
CARLOMAN.
As you are wise and manly, break your promise; It injures France, the freedom-loving plains The aweless stock we come of. Will you give The future of your people to a priest, You who profess the tonsure round my head Disables for a crown?
PEPIN.
I, break my treaty, And ruin my whole scheme!
CARLOMAN.
The Pope is gray, And Astolph young and sound in force as you. Which is the deadlier foe?
PEPIN.
The Pope and I Are age and youth together. Carloman, I love you still; you take me at the heart Now that your face is glowing: I must speak, For either you are mad, or have forgotten How deeds are judged here in the actual world. You are a monk, a runaway, and worse-- A heretic blasphemer, one who tempts Both to rebellion and to perjury, Yourself as disobedient as forsworn. You must go back and bear your punishment Without the least delay; for you are lost If Zacharias find you here.
CARLOMAN.
Go back! Go back!
PEPIN.
You are a danger to yourself Remaining, and a danger to my throne. All I have said is true. Have you not broken Your vow?
CARLOMAN.
I have.
PEPIN.
And are you not a rebel?
CARLOMAN.
I am, I am, because I am alive-- And not a slave who sleeps through Time, unable To share its agitation. What, go back! You might as well dismiss me to the womb From which I was delivered.
PEPIN.
Of yourself You left the world.
CARLOMAN.
[_trembling_] O Pepin, the same mother, Gave us our lives, and we had worked and thought And breathed in common till I went away--
PEPIN.
We cannot any more. Why will you fix A look so obstinate and hot? By heaven, you are a fool. I cannot change Myself, nor you, nor what has come to pass I soon shall hate you, wish that you were dead.
CARLOMAN.
How horrible! I never will go back; But I can live without my brother’s love, For ties are not existence.
PEPIN.
Will you raise Divisions in my kingdom?
CARLOMAN.
I must live.
[_Enter_ POPE ZACHARIAS, BONIFACE _and a number of Churchmen and nobles_.]
PEPIN.
[_to_ ZACHARIAS.]
There stands my brother and your enemy.
ZACHARIAS.
Who?--Carloman? You wrong him. But what mission Has brought him to the palace?
PEPIN.
He has left His convent, and is here to plead the cause Of Astolph, the arch-heretic.
ZACHARIAS.
My son, Defend yourself.
CARLOMAN.
[_putting his hands over his brow as if in confusion_]
But I can never say What he could comprehend. How strange to feel So slow, as if I walked without the light, Deep in a valley. [BONIFACE _touches him_] Ah!
BONIFACE.
You do not listen! Beloved, the Pope is speaking.
CARLOMAN.
[_to_ BONIFACE] But you know What drove you forth to wander foreign lands, With joy in every limb and faculty: _That_ drove me from the convent.
BONIFACE.
As a monk I left the English cloister, with a blessing From him who ruled me. Is it as a monk, Oh, is it--that we see you in our midst?
CARLOMAN.
No, no, enfranchised! [_suddenly standing forth_] Hear me! The _I am_ Has sent me to you and has given me power To rend your idols, for you have not known The God I worship. He is just _to-day_-- Not dreaming of the future,--in itself, Breath after breath divine! Oh, He becomes! He cannot be of yesterday, for youth Could not then walk beside Him, and the young Must walk with God: and He is most alive Wherever life is of each living thing. To-morrow and to-morrow--those to-days Of unborn generations; the _I am_ To none of them a memory or a hope, To each the thirst, the wine-cup and the wine, The craving, the satiety--my God! O Holy Father, you who sway the world Through Him, must not deny Him.
ZACHARIAS.
I deny! God does not alter; you have changed to Him Who is Eternal.
CARLOMAN.
Yes, in change, and free As we are free who move within His life, And shape ourselves by what is moulding Earth And men and ages. In my cell I lost The motion of His presence. I was dead.
ZACHARIAS.
No, you are dead to what you dare blaspheme, To what the cloister holds, if any place Can hold it, the immutability Of God’s inherent nature, while without His words are trying men by chance and change And manifold desires. You left His works Behind, you chose Himself: your oath was taken To His deep heart; and now you would forswear That oath, you cannot. No one who blasphemes The light of God shall see the light of day: For him the darkness and for him the grave. I am no more your father, but your judge, Who represents the God you have disowned, Insulted and forgotten. He requites-- And you shall answer to the uttermost.
CARLOMAN.
I can.
ZACHARIAS.
You still persist in carnal thoughts, Confounding Deity with things that pass?
CARLOMAN.
God is the Movement, if He is the Life Of all--I live in Him.
ZACHARIAS.
You left the convent Against command?
CARLOMAN.
Against command of men.
ZACHARIAS.
And leagued with Astolph?
CARLOMAN.
In fast brotherhood.
ZACHARIAS.
You hear his full confession. O apostate In vain, weep at your sentence.
PEPIN.
Holy Father, I pray you send him back, but spare his life-- Spare him, if I have power with you.
ZACHARIAS.
His doom Is but his choice made permanent on earth. [_to_ CARLOMAN] O fallen from blessedness of will, become The friend of heretics, the false of word To everlasting Truth, you are condemned Life-long to be a prisoner in your cell, Life-long to watch the scourge and crucifix. You chose them, as the God whom you abjure Chose them, _forever_; you have lapsed and they Become tormentors, till they force contrition At last and save you.
CARLOMAN.
[_with a low, panting moan_] Prison!
ZACHARIAS.
At Vienne, There till you die the prison you have made Of an eternal vow shall compass you.
CARLOMAN.
Think what it is--by God Himself, remember What you would do to me. The very dead Rise ... Everything must have escape to live, And I shall still be living.
[_He throws both arms over his face, then suddenly removing them, makes a frenzied movement closer to the Pope._]
Let me die Here, now! It is most impious, horrible To bury me, full to the lips with life. Sharpness-of-death, give _that_, but not to feel The prison walls close on an energy Beating its claim to worlds.
ZACHARIAS.
What I have spoken Is and remains irrevocable.
BONIFACE.
[_gently to_ CARLOMAN] Yield,-- Yield to a God Who compasses you round With love so strong it binds you.
CARLOMAN.
And is hell-- But I reject such love. O Pepin, listen! I see so far! Your pact with Rome undoes Long centuries, and yields your country up To spiritless restriction, and a future Entombed alive, as mine will be, in night. Simply renounce your promise, bid your soldiers Seize the old man who numbs us. You and I Could set to music that would never end The forces of our people.
PEPIN.
You are crazy Or worse, and I disown you. [_to_ ZACHARIAS] On his head Let fall what curse you will.
ZACHARIAS.
Then he shall see The sacred pact between us re-confirmed. [_to Monks_] Fetch Chilperic! [_Exeunt Monks._] And meanwhile bring fetters in To bind this renegade.
[_moving up to the royal board that crosses the hall at the further end_]
The treaty--sign!
[PEPIN _and his nobles follow_ ZACHARIAS: _Attendants bring in fetters_. CARLOMAN _submits mechanically to be bound, staring at_ PEPIN, _who affixes his signature to the treaty_.]
[BONIFACE _goes round to_ CARLOMAN.]
BONIFACE.
Son, you do well to take your shame so meekly, And bear in patience.
CARLOMAN.
[_sharply_] Have they bound me then? Look, Boniface! And Pepin is a slave. Nothing remains now in the world. That treaty, That pact!
[CHILPERIC _is taken before_ ZACHARIAS _and_ PEPIN; _they appear to address him, to consult with each other: then a monk advances and cuts off_ CHILPERIC’S _long hair, while he weeps bitterly_. GENEVIVA _and_ MARCOMIR _re-enter hurriedly as if they had heard bad news and see_ CARLOMAN _bound_.]
GENEVIVA.
Be true to him.
MARCOMIR.
I will.
GENEVIVA.
Then share His prison--say you left his monastery, Step forth and save him from his loneliness, My Marcomir, his friend. This is the moment; And, as you love him, speak.
MARCOMIR.
[_drawing his cowl closer_] No! Once before I went along with him: I went to hell. Renew that pain and foulness for his sake, Because I love him----?
GENEVIVA.
Then because I love, If nothing else will urge you--_for my sake_, Only for mine.
MARCOMIR.
And would you be a harlot Again, for him?
GENEVIVA.
Hush, never!
MARCOMIR.
No, we two Should understand each other, for we dare not Become what we have been. For my own sake I will not leave the world.
GENEVIVA.
He watches us ... O agony! And he is turned away, And casts me off for ever. Go to him-- I cannot; for he sees me as I am, The glory dropt away. [MARCOMIR _makes a forward movement_] You shall not go! What do I say? I should not have the strength, Not all alone. Stay with me! It is plain What I must do to win him, and so hard-- It smiles so in the stream. Oh, hush! Look there! That is worse dying. How they pass before him, There, standing in his chains. And Pepin looks And hurries on, but all _his_ gaze is fixed On Chilperic’s shorn head. See, how they pass! Now Zacharias-- And he curses him: The earth is trembling.
CARLOMAN.
[_making a movement as if to curse_ ZACHARIAS]
But I have no God To curse you with. I cannot do you harm. I have no God, no friend, no glowing hate: You all will pass before me in procession Day after day as shadows.
ZACHARIAS.
To his cell!