Part 17 (1/2)

OCEANA. I find I prefer it. I think I shall stay here forever. It tunes you up so! It makes you quite drunk! [Looks at herself in the mirror.] I look cute in this, don't I?

HENRY. You look like a fairy-story!

OCEANA. I ought to have had sense enough to think of a theatrical costumer in the beginning. [Stretches her arms.] Oh, I feel so wonderful! Ha, ha, ha! I don't know whether it's the mountain air.. . or whether it's because I'm in love!

HENRY. [Seizes her hand.] Sweetheart!

OCEANA. [Stares at him.] How wonderful it is! Beyond all believing! I'm stunned by it... afraid of it. Tell me, Hal, were you ever drunk?

HENRY. [Laughs.] Once or twice.

OCEANA. [Seriously.] I never was. But I've watched my people sometimes and tried to understand it. And it's just that. Nature has made us drunk!

HENRY. And that is what frightens you?

OCEANA. She has her purposes, Hal; and I don't want to be her blind victim. But then, I look at you again, and wonder leaps up in me... love, such as I never conceived of before; power... vision without end. I seem to be a hundred times myself! It is as if barriers were broken down within me... I see into new vistas of life. I understand... I exult! Oh, Hal, I shall never be the same again!

HENRY. Nor I; I look back at myself as I was a week ago, and I can't believe it.

OCEANA. With me it is like a great fountain inside. It surges up, and I cannot be still! I want to laugh... to sing! I have to dance it out of me! Do you know Anitra's Dance, Hal?

HENRY. Yes, of course.

OCEANA. [Begins to sing the music to herself and playfully to dance. The enthusiasm of it takes hold of her, and she dances more quickly.] Play it, Hal! Play!

[HENRY sits at piano and plays Anitra's Dance; she dances tumultuously, ending in a whirlwind of excitement.] Oh!

[As Henry rises, she flies to him and he clasps her pa.s.sionately.]

HENRY. Sweetheart!

OCEANA. [Panting.] Oh, Hal, I'm so happy! So happy! [She sobs upon his shoulder, then looks at him through her tears.] Oh, if I only dared let myself go!

HENRY. Why not, dearest?

OCEANA. It sweeps me off my feet! And I have to hold myself in.

HENRY. Why? Don't I love you?

OCEANA. Yes, I know. But I'm terrified at myself; I'm losing my self-control. And I promised father.

HENRY. What?

OCEANA. That I would never do it. ”Never feel an emotion,” he would say, ”that you could not stop feeling if you wished to.”

HENRY. But, sweetheart... why so much distrust? Why should we wait, when everything in us cries out against it?

OCEANA. Don't say that to me now, Hal!

HENRY. But why not?