ACT III

THE SAME DAY.

SCENE: _The Hall and loggia of Act I.; but toward sunset, and afar, on the flushed sea, are seen the fisher-boats returning pale-winged to shore. In the left distance, also, a portion of Famagouste is visible above the waves--its orient walls and towers, white domes and houses, interspersed with tall palms. The interior of the Hall is the same; only the divan is placed to the front and left, the lectern near the balcony leading to the sleeping apartments and to the chapel._ SMARDA _is lying lithely on the divan, beguiled with her charms and amulets, and from time to time giving a low, sinuous laugh._ VITTIA _enters, watches a moment, thoughtful, then advances_.

_Vittia._ Smarda----

_Smarda_ (_springing up_). Lady ... your slave!

_Vittia._ I think you are. Think that you are--if ever the leopard yields.

_Smarda._ To you, lady? A-ha! let him refuse. Command!

_Vittia._ And you will heed it well; I fear not. But first I have thought of requital.

_Smarda_ (_avidly_). Ouie!

_Vittia._ Those amulets----

_Smarda._ Of jade--and sard!

_Vittia._ And which You prize so----

_Smarda._ From my home in Scythia Across the sea (_darkening_) they came with me.

_Vittia._ The home Whence you were torn by the Moor who was your master.

(_Sees_ SMARDA _snarl._)

Is it not so?

_Smarda._ The spirits strangle him!

(_Works lividly at the charms._)

_Vittia._ Well, if I win to-night what is begun You shall not want, I think, Of gold for weightier witchery upon him.

(_The slave's eyes gleam._)

But listen, every sinew will be needed Still to achieve this wedding, though we have Camarin with us, willing. So I've learned A ship has come from Venice.

_Smarda_ (_quickly_). Pietro!

_Vittia._ Yes, Pietro, it must be, has arrived With papers that will help.

_Smarda._ Ha! Fortune's touch!

_Vittia._ It is, but tardy. Therefore I must have Them instantly.

_Smarda._ Ere he has time, lady, To vaunt of love in Lusignan and babble.

_Vittia._ A wooing dolt! but safe--because he fears.-- I shall be in this place with lord Amaury, Whom I must ... but no matter. He left me suddenly A season since, seeing his father's look Strangely upon his mother: for that doubt, His father's, still I've been compelled to feed, To move Yolanda.-- Here I shall be, then, here within this place.

(_She goes engrossedly._)

_Smarda_ (_recalling the pledge; evilly_). A-ha! Ha-ha! Ha-ha! If she but win! A talisman with might upon the Moor!

(_Begins to dance--a charm held up before her._)

If she but win! a-ha! a curse on him!

(_Whirls faster with a wild grace, swaying to and fro, and chanting softly the while, till suddenly a laugh in the corridor stops her, and_ PIETRO _is heard through the curtains adoring_ CIVA, _who pushes him into the Hall, then runs away laughing._)

_Pietro_ (_after her_). Hold, fair one! Stay!

(_Turns._)

_Smarda._ Pietro!

_Pietro._ Slave! (_Vainly._) I greet you.

(_Bows grandly._)

_Smarda._ A-ha!... So!

_Pietro._ I, Pietro, as you see, Who, you're aware, am sought Of all the loveliest Attendant on the lords and high of Venice.

_Smarda._ Yes.... Ha!

_Pietro._ "The gentle Pietro," they say. You may remember.

_Smarda._ Ha!

_Pietro._ "Proud Pietro!" And then they sigh.

_Smarda._ Sigh. But you've papers--

_Pietro._ Then-- They weep and pine--until I must console them.

_Smarda_ (_going to where he poses; contemptuously_). And for all this, O prince of paramours,

(_He is startled._)

My lady has no doubt bid you to sail From Venice.

_Pietro._ Slave?

_Smarda._ And she will hear with love That you delay the powers of the Senate Sent in your keeping to her.

_Pietro._ She!

_Smarda._ Oh, with

(_As he twitches._)

Love and delight--for urgently she waits them! And then--then of your amorous mouthings yonder!

_Pietro._ You will not, slave! but quickly take them to her, The papers ... quickly!

(_Fumbles for them._)

Dear slave, you will--and say if she inquire That I was led astray By the little Cyprian with guiling eyes Who fell enamoured of me at the gate.

_Smarda._ Civa!

_Pietro._ The same! I sought to run away,

(_Still searching._)

O slave, say to her, but I could not for-- For--for a lady by the marble knight, That is, by the fountain, swooned, as----

_Smarda._ Swooned!

_Pietro._ She did. Out by the fountain.

_Smarda._ As you came? who? which? Lady Yolanda? lady Berengere?

(_He stares at her ardour._)

Did no one say?... My mistress must know this! The papers, quickly!

_Pietro._ Slave, you----! By my sins!

(_She has seized them, and is gone. He follows amazed. Sunset begins without, crimson and far._ AMAURY _appears from the loggia, reckless, worn. He pauses, looks about him, troubled._)

_Amaury._ Not here yet.... There is more in this than seems.

(_Goes to divan and sits._ VITTIA _enters behind._)

More, Camarin of Paphos, than is clear!

(_Starts up._)

And she must tell me! (_Sees Vittia._) Lady, you I mean.

(VITTIA _advances inquiringly._)

What is beyond this shame upon Yolanda?

_Vittia._ My lord----?

_Amaury._ What! It is moving in me clouded, Deeper than sight but pressing at my peace. My father's look! you saw it!

_Vittia._ Ah!

_Amaury._ And saw Fear in my mother!

_Vittia._ Yes, implanted deep.

_Amaury._ And did not wonder?

_Vittia_ (_sits_). When I knew its source? No need, my lord--though your pang too I marked-- For, trust me, ere to-morrow it will cease-- If you are firm.

_Amaury._ I? who know nought? In what?

_Vittia._ That do not ask, I pray. (_Deftly._) Another could Fitly reply, but I----

_Amaury._ No other better!

_Vittia._ Then ... it will cease, my lord-- So as a flail of doubt it should not still Beat in you--when Yolanda Is wed with Camarin ... no, do not speak; The reason for your sake I must withhold.

_Amaury._ Though as under sirocco I am kept. (_Sits._) Sirocco!

(_Rises, a pause._)

Yet you speak gently.

_Vittia._ No; unblushingly!

(_He looks surprised._)

Unblushingly to one who knows--though by A chance--my love to him.

(_Turns away._)

And yet I cannot rue That he awaking sudden from the potion Surprised the dew of it upon my lips. No, and I would that gentle words might be As waters of enchantment on his grief---- But of Yolanda--

(_Rises._)

_Amaury._ Still I love her, still!

_Vittia_ (_strainedly_). As well she knows, so may refuse to wed With Camarin.

_Amaury._ She?

_Vittia._ Since you are Lusignan, Heir of a sceptred line, And yet may reach--the realm.

_Amaury_ (_pierced_). No ... not for that Her hope was?

_Vittia._ Were it folly to make sure?

(_A pause._)

_Amaury._ How? speak.

_Vittia._ Again unshameful? No; one thing Alone would serve you. That I must not bring My tongue to falter.

_Amaury._ Be it so.

_Vittia._ And yet ...

(_He has turned away._)

My lord, my lord, I will! Will ... for you suffer! Will, though indelicacy seem to soil What bloom I boasted. Let her think ... let her, But for to-day, That you, for she's aware of my affection, Have chosen--to wed me.

_Amaury._ You!

_Vittia._ For to-day. To-morrow I return to Venice, then-- Denial.

_Amaury_ (_moved_). Lady--?

_Vittia._ Yes.

_Amaury._ This is most kind.

(_She waits repressed--as he struggles._)

Kind; I will do it.

_Vittia._ Will?

_Amaury._ Grateful, intent For the issue's utterance. And this wear you, This token of our race,

(_Takes off his ring._)

For a proof to her of any tie soever.

(_He puts it on_ VITTIA'S _finger._)

But now--for the sails make home along the sea-- Now of my mother.

_Vittia._ More, my lord?

_Amaury._ This only;

(SMARDA _glides in._)

To-morrow ... Scythian!

_Vittia._ Who! My lord?...

(_Sees the slave's look, which stirs him._)

Smarda! Why are you here?... Those papers--but your lips!

(_Takes the papers._)

Not these alone have brought you thus; then what?

(_Follows_ SMARDA'S _eye._)

Of lord Amaury?

_Smarda._ Of his mother.

_Vittia._ How!

_Smarda._ She swooned of terror at the castle gate. She lies in danger. Hear--'twas as she fled The lord of Lusignan.

_Amaury._ My father?

_Smarda._ He. And you are sought below, I heard it said: Some officer of Famagouste--and men.

(AMAURY _turns dazed and goes._)

_Vittia_ (_with fervour, then--yet awed_). This is again fortune!... fortune!

_Smarda._ Lady?

_Vittia._ Is! though an instant since it seemed disaster.

_Smarda._ And how?

_Vittia._ Yolanda, does she know?

_Smarda._ Nothing. Nothing. She was returning from the rocks Where nest the windy gulls (_gloatingly_) As I came hither. I stole there at noon To see her suffer.

_Vittia._ Then.--I can compel her. She will come here. Go to the curtains, see. If she is near, the Paphian is in The bower by the cypress: go, tell him, _The loggia--at once ..._ Ah!

(YOLANDA _enters._)

_Yolanda_ (_to herself_). "Ah" indeed.

(_Her look of purpose changes to one of distrust. But she firmly fronts to_ VITTIA, _as the slave slips out._)

_Vittia._ My gratitude! I wished, and you are here.

_Yolanda._ And--for some reason of less honour--you.

_Vittia._ I, a dear guest? fa!

_Yolanda._ Were you! and not one This ne'er-before-envenomed air would banish. (_Slowly_) One whose abiding These walls would loathe aloud--had they a tongue To utter.

_Vittia._ Yet I may be mistress of them, Ere all is done--since still it is my purpose.

_Yolanda._ Gulfs wide as the hate of God for infamy Would lie preventing; so there is no fear.

(_Sits._)

_Vittia._ A prophesy!

_Yolanda._ A deeper than disdain.

_Vittia._ Or than your love of Camarin of Paphos!

_Yolanda._ Which you would feign, but cannot.

_Vittia._ Still, before Evening is done, you will become his wife?

_Yolanda._ If, ere it come, all under Lusignan Do not look scorn on Vittia Pisani.

(_Rises._)

_Vittia._ What! how?

_Yolanda._ Plentiful scorn! (_With joy._) A thing may still Be done to lift my hope out of this ruin! To bring Amaury grateful to my feet! And I will do it.

_Vittia._ Tell?... vowing him first To win his father's lenience?... No ... I see! You would when she who's guilty And this enamoured Paphian are fled!

(YOLANDA _turns pale._)

When they are fled! ha ... And it is too late.

_Yolanda._ Too--? You by some trick--a trick have--!

_Vittia._ Hindered? Little I needed ... Her wings are flightless. She is ill, Verging--go learn!--to death.

_Yolanda._ No!

_Vittia._ To the grave. And you alone, she knows, can put it far-- Since she is numbed and drained Momently by the terror of her husband, Whose every pulse seems to her a suspicion.

_Yolanda._ And it is you ... you who have urged again His doubt that would have sunk!

_Vittia._ It was enough Merely to sigh--and fear her innocence Can only seem simple again as dew If you wed freely Camarin of Paphos.

_Yolanda._ And that, you could! though in her heart remorse Trampled and tore! Though with the wounds of battle he you "love" Is livid still.

_Vittia._ And grieves?--Be comforted! For _he_ is--now security has come.

(_Shows ring;_ YOLANDA _falls back._)

As _he_ is, do not fear.

_Yolanda._ Amaury!... Oh! He is not! no, Amaury!... He? so soon?-- Ah, you are merciless!

_Vittia._ Only aware How to compel your pity to my ends; For you will spare his mother.

_Yolanda._ Yielding--still, And past all season of recovery? Shattering love for ever at my feet? No, you are duped. For empty, cold are the veins Now of submission in me; numb and dead The pleading of it. And upon you, back, I cast the burden of your cruelty.

(_Slowly._)

And--if she dies in terror of the lips Of Renier Lusignan--on your peace The guilt be!

_Vittia._ No.

_Yolanda._ The heaping mass of horror!

_Vittia_ (_moved_). No, on her own; for she has sinned.

_Yolanda._ And suffered! But you----

_Vittia._ I say her own. I've done no crime. And you will wed him.

_Yolanda._ Were I Venetian! But am not; so remorse has come in you! There at the gates that guard your rest you hear Dim now the risen phantom cries of it, The presage beat of them like hungry hands That will o'erwhelm you! All that I could to spare her I have done; All that was duty and of love the most. But you it was who struck and kindled first Within Lord Renier fire of suspicion. Then yours the penance!

_Vittia._ Liar!... ah ... enough.

(_Recovers herself._)

A babe I am so to be fed with fright. You--well I know--will not desert her thus To ... the medusa of his doubt.

_Yolanda._ I will not.

(_With exultance._)

Will, will not, will not, will not! But you it is-- For in the worst that live there still is heaven!-- Must null his doubt and ease the sobbing ebb And flood of her sick spirit; you who must Go to his fear and with persuasion say That it is folly of him and of you So to suspect her, since in Camarin's Arms I was found. You will!

_Vittia._ And--then go pray?

(_Draws out the papers scornfully._)

Rather I'll bring you this:--Authority Sent me of Venice To make Amaury lordly over Cyprus, Or to abase him even of Famagouste; Which I will do--

(_Goes to her._)

Unless I have the pledge that you will wed, Though not to be his wife and free to leave him, This Paphian, And with him from Lusignan hence will pass,

(CAMARIN _appears on loggia._)

And he has come now for your answer.

_Yolanda._ Here! In league with you! in this!

_Vittia._ Most loyally; And ready skilfully to disavow, With every force, your innocence--if you Attempt betrayal!-- Enter, my lord of Paphos--

(CAMARIN _enters desperately._)

I have spoken. She has not pledged to wed you--though the life Of Berengere Lusignan fall for it, And though Amaury ... But you may avail.

(_Moves off._ YOLANDA _stands silently between them._ CAMARIN _looks at her, falters, then turns on_ VITTIA.)

_Camarin._ As an anchorite for immortality, Venetian, I covet this--covet! Yet ... I will not entreat it of her.

_Vittia._ What!

_Camarin._ I swore in dread, but will not!

_Vittia._ Now!

_Yolanda_ (_low_). Madonna!

_Vittia._ Now you refuse?

_Yolanda._ He does--he does!

_Vittia._ The whole?

_Yolanda._ Lady of Venice, yes; for very shame!

(_With grave joy._)

Bitterly tho' it be, he must, for shame! Though he would waste the air of the world to keep The breath still in the veins Of her his love so wronged, He cannot ask me more than breast can bear Knowing I have already borne for her Infection worse than fetid marshes send From Mesaoria-- Have lost the sky of love that I had arched And all the stars of it. See, he is dumb!-- He cannot.

_Camarin_ (_coldly_). No; but to your heart I leave her And to your pity.

_Yolanda._ Say not pity to me!

(_The word overwhelms her anew._)

Am I not needy, fain of it, and can Endurance ever dure! What have I left Of joy to ripple in me or of light To sway me to forgetting--I to whom Dawn was enchanted incense once, and day, The least of earth, an ides of heaven bliss. What to me left! to me! Who shepherded each happy flock of waves Running with silvery foaming there to shore, Who numbered the little leaves with laughing names Out of my love, And quickened the winds with quicker winds of hope, That now are spent ... as summer waters, Leaving my breast a torrent's barren bed. Pity and pity! ever pity! No.

(_Enter_ HASSAN.)

A nun to pity I will be no more. But you, cruel Venetian ... Ah, ah, Mother of God! is there no gentleness In thee to move her and dissolve away This jeopardy congealing over us?

(_A pause._)

_Vittia._ You see, none.

_Yolanda._ Ah, for sceptre and for might Then to compel you.

_Vittia._ Still, there is none.

_Yolanda._ None ...

(_Sinks to a seat in despair._)

Yet could I think!

_Hassan._ Lady Yolanda--

(_Advances._)

_Yolanda._ Were My brain less weary!

_Hassan._ Lady Yolanda--

_Yolanda._ Well?

_Hassan._ There is a means--a might.

_Yolanda._ Well?

(_Is half heedless._)

_Hassan._ To compel her.

_Yolanda._ To ... what?

_Hassan._ If you will dare it.

_Yolanda._ Will--?

_Hassan._ I swear.

_Yolanda_ (_rising_). Your thought! I have no fear.

_Hassan._ Then ... let me but Seize her and shut her fast an hour within The leprous keep, and she shall write whate'er You order; then upon a vessel quick Be sent to Venice whence she came.

_Camarin._ Mad! mad! Venice would rise!

_Hassan._ And Cyprus, to be free!-- But 'tis not, lady! and Lord Renier Shall have a letter of her guile and flight. Venture it, venture!

_Yolanda_ (_after a long pause_). If it can be done, It shall be.

_Hassan._ Ah!

_Yolanda._ And must be.

_Vittia._ Fools, to me!

(_She stands defensive, as_ HASSAN _prepares to close in._)

_Yolanda._ Quickly, and take her.

_Hassan._ Now.

_Camarin_ (_with sudden horror_). No!... Sateless God!

(_His eyes are fixed on the balcony._)

See, see!... Berengere! Oh! fury of hell!

(_They look and fall back appalled. For slowly down the steps comes_ RENIER _following_ BERENGERE, _whose eyes turn back in fluttering trance upon him._)

_Yolanda._ Ah!... he will kill her! Stop, my lord! mother! Lord Renier!

(_Runs; takes_ BERENGERE _in her arms._)

Cold is she, stony pale, And sinking!... Go away from her, go go!

_Renier._ No ... she shall tell me.

_Yolanda._ Mother!... Tell you that You are her murderer?

_Renier._ The truth!

_Yolanda._ The truth!

(_Laughs bitterly, and at a loss, as if amazed. Then, almost against her will, led, to the end_--)

It is suspicion! is that mad suspicion That you have had of her.

_Renier._ It is! It is!

_Yolanda._ And--all because I have these days delayed To wed with Camarin.

_Renier._ Delayed?

_Yolanda._ Because I show befitting shame that I was here Found in his arms ... when to Amaury I was betrothed!

_Renier._ Power of--! No!

_Yolanda._ Because I grieve to leave Lusignan, this my home-- Where I have dwelt as under tented love-- Though I am bidden.

_Renier._ This can be?

_Berengere_ (_faintly_). Yolanda!

_Renier._ I say--only delayed? and you--?

_Yolanda._ Yes, yes. Now I will wed him, heedless, wantless, wild. Send for the priest and for Amaury, for Laughter and lights and revelry--for all Within this castle. But first to her bed, And to tranquillity, She must be borne, she your cold violence Has driven here.... Alessa--Tremitus!

(_They have entered._)

Lead her within. O mother! piteous mother!---- Ah, it was ruthless, kindless!

_Renier._ We shall see.

(_To_ HASSAN.)

Bid Moro and Amaury.--As for her, I soon may come and seek forgiveness.

_Berengere._ No!

(HASSAN _goes._)

My brain and breath!... the pall ... where am I ... how Long must I lie!...

_Tremitus._ She speaks to visions. So, So can the blood do--trick us utterly!

(_He supports her--with_ ALESSA--_slowly up steps and off._ YOLANDA _covers her eyes._ HASSAN _returns with_ MORO, _then, and_ AMAURY, _whose look seeks_ VITTIA.)

_Yolanda_ (_as all stand silent_). Speak, speak, and tell him!

_Renier._ Yes, Amaury ... you Are sent for to behold Yolanda wed, As you commanded, Here unto Camarin. Shame has till now Withheld her, but ... what ails you?

_Amaury._ On; go on. The sudden blood up to my wounds.

_Renier._ It has, I say, withheld her. But she now has chosen.

_Amaury._ So; and ... it is well. And here are her Vows I have kept--

(_Takes a packet from his breast._)

Vows and remembrances ... I shall aspire--

(_Hands it; she lets it fall._)

That I may loathe her not o'ermuch; and to Muffle my sword from him that now she weds.

(_His voice breaks tonelessly._)

Come, let it be.

_Yolanda._ Amaury!

_Amaury_ (_angrily._) Priest, be brief!

_Moro_ (_before them; as_ CAMARIN _takes_ YOLANDA'S _hand_). The Church invests me and the powers of This island here to make you man and wife. Be joined, ye who have sinned, In soul, peace and repentances for ever.

(_He signs the cross._ YOLANDA _stands dazed. A silence. Then a shuddering cry and all turn toward the balcony, where_ ALESSA _bursts, pale, wild, and striving to speak._)

_Yolanda_ (_with dread, awe, premonition_). Alessa!

_Alessa._ Lady Yolanda! you have wed him?

_Yolanda_ (_pausing._) Yes.

_Alessa._ Lady Berengere is dead.

_Yolanda._ No!... No!

(_Chokes rebelliously._)

It cannot be! mother! cannot! awake her! And tell her I have wed him! mother! cannot!

(_Goes trembling, belieflessly, up the balcony. A strange doubt seizes_ AMAURY. _On the rest is silence, consternation, and fear._)

CURTAIN.