Part 39 (1/2)

THE EMPRESS

Behold, behold, how little I may move!

Think in thy heart how terrible is Love, O thou who know'st my soul as G.o.d above-- --Draw me through dreams unto the end of day!

_The stage for the play in another part of the street, and the people thronging all about_.

GILES

Here, Joan, this is so good a place 'Tis worth the scramble and the race!

There is the Empress just sat down, Her white hands on her golden gown, While yet the Emperor stands to hear The welcome of the bald-head Mayor Unto the show; and you shall see The player-folk come in presently.

The king of whom is e'en that one, Who wandering but a while agone Stumbled upon our harvest-home That August when you might not come.

Betwixt the stubble and the gra.s.s Great mirth indeed he brought to pa.s.s.

But liefer were I to have seen Your nimble feet tread down the green In threesome dance to pipe and fife.

JOAN

Thou art a dear thing to my life, And nought good have I far to seek-- But hearken! for the Mayor will speak.

THE MAYOR

Since your grace bids me speak without stint or sparing A thing little splendid I pray you to see: Early is the day yet, for we near the dawning Drew on chains dear-bought, and gowns done with gold; So may ye high ones hearken an hour A tale that our hearts hold worthy and good, Of Pharamond the Freed, who, a king feared and honoured, Fled away to find love from his crown and his folk.

E'en as I tell of it somewhat I tremble Lest we, fearful of treason to the love that fulfils you, Should seem to make little of the love that ye give us, Of your lives full of glory, of the deeds that your lifetime Shall gleam with for ever when we are forgotten.

Forgive it for the greatness of that Love who compels us.-- Hark! in the minster-tower minish the joy-bells, And all men are hushed now these marvels to hear.

THE EMPEROR (_to the MAYOR_)

We thank your love, that sees our love indeed Toward you, toward Love, toward life of toil and need: We shall not falter though your poet sings Of all defeat, strewing the crowns of kings About the th.o.r.n.y ways where Love doth wend, Because we know us faithful to the end Toward you, toward Love, toward life of war and deed, And well we deem your tale shall help our need.

(_To the EMPRESS_)

So many hours to pa.s.s before the sun Shall blush ere sleeping, and the day be done!

How thinkest thou, my sweet, shall such a tale For lengthening or for shortening them avail?

THE EMPRESS

Nay, dreamland has no clocks the wise ones say, And while our hands move at the break of day We dream of years: and I am dreaming still And need no change my cup of joy to fill: Let them say on, and I shall hear thy voice Telling the tale, and in its love rejoice.

THE MUSIC

(As the singers enter and stand before the curtain, the player-king and player-maiden in the midst.)

_LOVE IS ENOUGH: have no thought for to-morrow If ye lie down this even in rest from your pain, Ye who have paid for your bliss with great sorrow: For as it was once so it shall be again.