m W! j'^idl : rva Cornell University Library PR 6025.Y47A7 Arvat; a dramatic PSiiiViifmimilMI CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE Date Due otc J r^^^^v. — um— i«mm<«il>WI*W"""Tr The original of tliis bool< is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013646645 ARVAT ARVAT A DRAMATIC POEM IN FOUR ACTS BY LEOPOLD H. MYERS LONDON EDWARD ARNOLD 1908 (All Eights Reserved) DRAMATIS PERSONtE Arvat, a Noble. Arsinoe, his Bride. Arvat's Brother. A Herald. A Wizen Noble. A Young Noble, his Son An Aged A Gloomy Noble. An Old Noble. A Wealthy Noble. A Poor Noble. A Sage. A High Priest. Beggar. A page, an old woman, nobles, elders, a crowd, Sr=c. ARVAT ACT I. Scene I. The scene is an immense plain over which night is brood- ing. A palace rises from the plain; its outline is lost in darkness. Before the palace there is a dais with a throne, and on the throne is seated the King. A Herald stands by his side. At the foot of the dais is gathered a vast concourse of men. Their faces are sombre. They carry torches which give a flickering light. There is silence until the Herald thus speaks : — The Herald. Approach ! Behold ! feast for your eyes is here ! Bear hence the memory of this fateful sight ! Ye peoples, tremble ! Flambeaux in the dusk Raise to his honour and behold your King ! The shrunken offspring of immortal sires, The vestige of a great departed pomp, Sinks gradually to his hated death. The small hands twitch, the wizen members droop, 2 ARVA T The tongue is lolling and the eyes are closed. Here on his throne before the world assembled, High raised above the teeming wilderness, The last King dies. A Voice from the Crowd. But with him dies not hope. The Herald. Nay, hope dies not for hope long since was dead. The Voice. Hope — hope shall gleam in many eyes to-night And sullen looks shall turn to looks of joy. There dies to-night the memory of years Crushed by the bulk of a supreme despair. The last King dies. No longer shall the tombs Of faded grandeur press this weakened land. The Herald. Hear me, ye peoples, hear ! Know that your hopes are but the ruined towers, - The fragments of the palaces of youth. Gauntly they stand upon the darkling plain. Gaunt on the frozen desert of Past Time, — A lifeless scene which your sad memory Illumes with pallid light. ARVAT A Voice from the Crowd. It is not so ! The past is dead and we are living men. We will renounce, deny, repudiate, We will arise and we will tread the earth With a new smile of wonder. Another Voice. They say the world with every morn is new : The pure light drenches heaven with a day Dew-fresh and innocent, and many hearts That are most old and sad may yet regain Their former sweetness in the airs of heaven And win perchance — The Herald. Vanity ! Vanity ! Ope your sad hearts to every wayward breeze, To every wind that blows or warm or chill Fog-laden or perfumed : — the acrid caves Of your outwearied being are too foul To harbour joy. A Voice from the Crowd. Nay, we shall know the very flower of joy That blossoms by the wayside, verily. 4 ARVAT For every season of the passing year. Joy lies in freedom. We shall soon be free. The Herald. From your own selves ye never will be free. A Voice from the Crowd. Is it lost then — the hope of the world ? Is Happiness quite gone forever ? The Herald. Happiness ? ask the fat beast of the field : Ask the rich woods and the ensanguined flower, The toadstool and the toad. Ask all that lives But Man, the Sufferer. Yea, verily, since Man First trod the World the Tree of Happiness Has pined and faded, for a serpent lies Coiled at its root. Self-knowledge hath slain Joy. A Voice from the Crowd. It is lost then the Hope of the World ; Happiness, Joy are gone forever ? The Herald. For man remains Delight. There is delight in fire and in war. And much delight in loot and victory, ARVAT 5 In rape and rapine, wounds and blood and death. There is delight in cunning and in stealth ; There is delight in vengeance and in power ; Pluck ye the crimson flower of delight, Pale fools, before ye die. A Voice from the Crowd. Oh ! Happiness, thou dewy-petalled flower ! Thy wayside blossom shall we never see ? The Herald. The King is dying and his garden lies Open before you. Seek your vile weed therein ! Plant there your rank crops ! Fatten there your swine ! And where was royal scented quietness There let your teeming misery send up Clamour and fumes into the heated sky. [T^ere is a movement in the crowd. Why murmur ye ? Who comes ? The Crowd. Who comes ? 'Tis he. 'Tis Arvat. Arvat comes. [Arvat mounts the dais. The Herald. Who comes ? Who dares to mount The dais of the dying King ? 6 ARVAT Arvat. 'Tis I. Arvat. The Herald. Who bade thee hither come ? Arvat. The King is dead. I take his hand : 'tis cold ; I touch his face : 'tis cold ; I feel his heart : 'Tis cold and still ; and his eyes answer not The living. Herald ! the King is dead and thou, being one With all that dies to-night, art likewise gone. Gone, gone . . . And so : Farewell. The Herald. What meaneth this? Arvat. Begone, I say, begone ! I'll see thee slink Back to the palace, citadel of sin. There shalt thou dwell and rot within those walls While they rot also. [Turning to the people. But ye ! rejoice and sing ! ARVAT For lo ! the gods that shake the blossoming tree Of Light and Life have not forgotten you ; Soon from the skies its rosy petals falling Shall make your footsteps glad. A Voice from the Crowd. Can I believe ? And can these words be true ? Another Voice. I fear to hope and yet I hope again. The Herald. 'Twas ever thus ! Fools would reform the world to happiness And fools believe their boasting. Arvat. Envious shade ! I banish thee. Several Voices. Away ! away, Despair ! Once more we hope. The Herald. Eternal lure to change that mocks desire ! Once more I yield, but shall return again, And ere I go I prophesy your doom. 8 ARVAT Hear me, ye peoples ! Happiness, your god, Has never been, is not, and shall be never ; But Misery creeps on and Youth has fled. And Love is lost, and cold Philosophy Draws without hope the hungry soul to gods Of self-destruction. The wisdom of the world shall triumph then ; And when at last its poisonous breath hath slain Divine Imagination, then indeed There shall be wailings heard and visions seen — Black portents and pale spectres in the air; " Unhappy lot ! " the fleeing ghosts shall moan, " Unhappy lot ! when all the frail and fair Has sunk from us and we are left alone With dull Reality and blank Despair ; Illusion was a veil of wonder blown. To shroud the features of Infinity. God wot ! the bubble of the world was rare, Lucent and rich with colours interwed, Most marvellous, but Beauty now is dead, And who shall seek for Beauty otherwhere ? What boots the empty vastness of the world ? What boots the cold immensity of space ? When Truth inane and Unity sans Grace Have quenched us utterly ? " Thus shall the spirits sigh ARVAT Fleeing the solitary earth, while ye Still grovel in a dusk that ever deepens, And fling vain shadows into a monstrous Night. A Voice from the Crowd. O Happiness ! thou dewy-petalled flower ! Thy wayside blossom shall we never see ? The Herald. When man says " Happiness " the Demon shakes His creased sides with laughter. " Fool, how long Hope against hope and trifle with despair ? Hath not grim Time mown down his generations In equal misery since the world was young ? Chaos-born fragment of mortality, how long Wilt whine and worship ? Canst thou never learn Thyself to be thy God ? Canst thou not make The frantic image of thine impotence, Thy rage, thy tears, thy hate, thy lust, thy blood. Thy piteous love, thy conscience and thy pain, A spectacle and pleasure ? Look down, O Man, Look down, poor suffering God, look down on Self, Enjoy the splendour of thy tragedy ! " Thus speaks the fiend, and my undaunted spirit Springs like the phoenix from the torturing flame ; My heart dilates ; my nostrils scent the wind lo ARVAT Blown from behind the stars ; my soul is free. Oh ! then, poor clay! what shuddering wave of joy Mocks thy decrepitude ? O Beauty born Of human understanding, what is this ? Man's piteousness triumphant ! [He draws his sword. So now, Death ! Swallow me up and let my light be quenched. [He falls on his sword. Scene II. Arvat. The Herald dies ; darkness hath seized his soul. The King is dead ; his life hath flickered out Like the flame of the torches ye bear. The Moon is sinking. But what avails the night To daunt our courage ? Brothers, what avails The darkling night ? We, confident of dawn. Will stand to greet the sun. And through the approaching hour when the world's pulse Is feeble and the Prince of Darkness steals — But hold ! What said I ? Darkness ? Darkness ? Nay, I'll find a torch ARVAT II Even for this black hour ! Ho ! ye whose fires still burn, Quick to the palace ! Seize the tapestries And all the furniture of luxury ! Apply your torches well, and soon the sky Shall roar with conflagration's tongues of flame. [A boy who was crouching on the dais behind the Kin^ s throne now flings himself at KKWAT'sfeet. Boy. 0, noble Arvat ! spare the palace, spare The lovely palace where the King was born. 1, too, was born there, Arvat, and my Mother Who waited on the queen — Arvat. Peace, boy, what doest thou here ? Boy. O, spare the palace, Arvat ! Arvat. Page, I say. What doest thou here ? Boy. My lord, I wished to see The Moon shine on the dead face of the King. 12 ARVAT Arvat Dead faces in the moonlight all are gray. Boy. And so are living faces. She, being dead, The Lady Moon, — sees little difference, Methinks, 'twixt dead and living. Arvat. Page, no longer, Thou shalt henceforth into the fields to till This goodly earth of ours. Boy. Arvat ! my Mother Who waited on the queen — Arvat. The queen ? What queen ? There is no queen. Her name is blotted out. Several Voices from the Crowd. Nay, but where is she ? Arvat, answer us ! Where is the queen ? ARVAT 13 Arvat. My friends, the Past is dead And like a corpse it stinketh. Voices. Answer us ! Where is the queen ? Too long have we been hushed With false reports. Speak, Arvat ! If thou be Lover of Truth indeed, speak to us now ! Arvat. Peace ! Be it so. The wife to this dead King, The woman ye called queen, fled with my brother To some far distant land one year ago. Their fate I know not. So let them be. Unhappy pair ! they wrought Great evil to this land. At first the King Sought to conceal his wrong. Said that the queen Was gone at his own bidding, and conferred Titles upon the adulterer, giving out That he was sent upon an embassy. But in his soul was fury, and by stealth He sent out spies and would have slain them both Had he but found them. He dismissed his servants Most trusted and his ministers most faithful. 14 ARVAT Believing they were privy to the flight. At last, his frenzy leaping every bound, He picked a quarrel with our best ally, The King of Tarbia, whom his wrath suspected Of harbouring the fugitives, and thus, Evil on evil growing, we have plunged Deep in calamity, A Voice from the Crowd. The moon hath sunk Below the outer borders of the world Giving us darkness. Another Voice. Our enemies shall give A greater darkness to us. For the sun Shall glare upon our eye-balls and yet we Shall still be in the dark. Another Voice. Yea, evil days have come upon the land, And brooding evil welters in the sky ; And from the East across the starlit plain Come frantic bands of bestial yellow men. They know no common joys, no human pain, But move as silent instruments of God, ARVAT 15 Hostile to all men. At their head is one Who hath, men say, no heart and eats the gritty earth, Inscrutable, brute-bringer of dismay. Dost know this, mighty Arvat, and dost yet Offer the promise of a better day ? Arvat. I do. What seest thou yonder ? The Voice. Light ! Red light ! The Crowd. The palace burns ! Arvat. It burns and by that light I'll lead to victory. Dominion falls Into the lap of Freedom. Hydra-headed, Many yet one, we'll cut the tyrant down. Those pestilent hordes that swarm across the plain Shall die like locusts in the flame and smoke Of our just vengeance. They are slaves, but we Henceforth are free men. Lo ! the palace burns. And by that light we'll conquer. Each man wielding His own sword for his own inheritance i6 ARVAT Shall stand 'gainst fifty hireling knaves. What then ? Shall we not win ? The Crowd. It burns ! The palace burns ! A Wizen Noble (^Stepping out from the crowd). Oh ! mighty Arvat, who shall lead us ? Who ? Where all are equal who shall dare to ape The sacrosanct and thrice-anointed King ? Arvat. We'll have no King ! A leader, but no King. The Nation's voice shall summon one to lead. The Wizen Noble. Do thou suggest a leader, mighty Arvat ; Or else, methinks, some rascal who hath tickled The popular fancy will impose himself Upon the ignorant multitude, and thus By tricks of declamation and conceit Make them choose him who truly chose himself. Name thou a leader, Arvat, for 'tis evident Some one thou hast in mind. ARVAT 17 Arvat. Nay, let the people Choose and do thou be silent, traitorous knave. The Wizen Noble. I ! traitorous knave ! Tut, tut ! Is't thus the young Bespeak their elders in a state where all Are equal ? Arvat, such a language smacks Of proud autocracy, and yet the King, Poor youth, would never have addressed me thus. Arvat. Sir, thou wouldst not be here to sound his praises Hadst been his enemy as thou art mine. The Wizen Noble. Leader, King, tyrant, These words have differing complexions, but The name of Arvat beareth only one. Arvat. Enough ! And ye, assembled peoples, hear ! To you I turn, to you I boldly say, " I'll be your leader." Take me as I am ; Take wealth, take house, take land, take life, take all. i8 ARVAT Lo ! from this moment I surrender all Unto the good of the community; And I will live in tent or hut, and till The goodly ground and bare a labouring back To noon-day suns. I swear, I'll be no King. But let me save this land, for I can do it. The Crowd. What says great Arvat ? 'Tis a sorry strait And he will save us. Liberty, liberty ! Where are tjiou gone ? He lies. lie never yet Hath lied. He lies, Nay, nay. Akvat. Take ye this gift Of mine own self. I say, the living flame Of this existence burneth but for you. Take ye this gift ; and let a little trust Accomplish greatness. ARVAT 19 A Sage {Stepping out from the Crowd). Arvat, beware ! for who doth promise aught Tempteth the gods. Arvat. Why should I fear them ? I, A servant of the commonwealth, will lead To sudden victory. The Sage. I like thee, Arvat ; I like thy pride of spirit. But tell me this, When victory has come ; what then ? Arvat. What then ? The Sage. Ay, thy reward. What can these poor fools give But their servility ? Arvat. I want no reward. Yea ! when prosperity is theirs once more I'll court ingratitude and welcome it. 20 ARVAT The Sage. Well spoken, Arvat, but remember this : Who saith : " Thou owest me this," he pays himself, So lies. Who saith : " I bear ingratitude," Proclaims himself a sordid usurer. True generosity knoweth not itself; Knowledge usurpeth merit and yet knowledge Is best of all. A riddle ? Nay, but mark ! Thy composition lacks such ignorance. Great Arvat, thou preparest for thyself And them a future trouble e'en in this, That thou shalt save them. Arvat. Strangle me, I say, When I have finished, but first let me save. The Sage. On some the storms and buffetings of life Leave stain and wrinkle, scar and cicatrice, And carve a living record of grim time. But some with adamantine gentleness Defy experience; with the passing years Inward as well as outward countenance Is bleached to silver whiteness. Arvat, thou ARVAT 21 Art one whom time shall mark — perchance shall mar — {^He turns to the people. Do ye, poor fools, perform his liking well And for a while ye'U prosper. But his way. Though it should lead to death and hell, is straight, While ye forever circle round the pole Of your own -folly. Thus it is decreed That you and he will part. I say no more. The Crowd. Shame on thee, old man. Shame ! he insults us ! Liar ! Rogue ! Begone ! Not thou but Arvat leads us. Arvat, he Shall make us prosper. Who dares call us fools ? Who says we are ungrateful ? The Sage. I have said it. But he believes in you and loves you well. The Crowd. Begone or we will stone thee. Arvat, hail ! The Sage. 'Tis well. They hail thee. But remember me, Arvat, when thou art King. {Disappears into the darkness. 22 ARVAT Arvat {moodily). I will endeavour to forget thee quickly. [Then turning to the people. I thank you, O my brothers, for this trust. Now hearken to me. Two pledges will I give you. This is one : That all I have is yours. Henceforth I'm nothing But what my merit makes me. My second pledge is this : I take from you A hostage for mine own fidelity. For taking here is giving ; giving, taking ; And so we merge together. There is one Among you who shall bind eternity And me together. There is one — a maid — One whom mine eyes have seen that she is living — One whom my hand hath touched that she is flesh — One whom my heart divines that she is spirit — One whom my soul acclaims. She shall be mine. The Crowd. Arvat hath spoken well. Who is this maid ? If she of us ? Takes he the maid to wife ? ARVAT 23 Arvat. Yea, she with bashfulness, I triumphing, Yet both triumphant we will sanctify A common immortality. While the world runs To sound of children's prattle she and I Will beam as guardian stars. The Crowd. Hail ! Arvat, hail ! Where is the maiden, Arvat ? Let her step forth. Where is thy chosen bride ? Dost say, great Arvat, She is of us ? Arvat. Yea, the brown breast of earth hath suckled her Lusty to grow, valiant and strong. She is among you ; Long have I felt her eyes Beam through the night at me Brighter than stars. The Crowd. Let her step forth ! Let Arvat's bride step forth ! l^Tke croivd parts , and a girl advances timidly. Arsinoe ! It is Arsinoe ! 24 ARVAT Arvat. Come maid, come maid, and we will go together Through all life's ways or be they rough or smooth. The Crowd. She comes ! The maiden comes ! Thus is he pledged ! Arvat. Behold her mine. What lovelier pledge than she ! The Crowd. Hail, Arvat ! Thou shalt lead us. Arvat, hail ! And thou, Arsinoe, his chosen bride ! Arvat Yea, this, my queen, whose only kingdom is My heart, shall rule there alway. The Crowd. Maiden, hail ! Arvat. Hail, maiden ! Hail ! the earth that bore thee, nursed thee. And in one pulse of life ecstatic flings thee ARVAT 25 Warm from her lap into my waiting arms, Great Earth, I praise thee ! The Crowd. All hail, O maiden ! Hail ! [Arsinoe mounts the dais. Arvat. She comes ! She is here : Winds of the heaven blowing back her hair. Flames of a burning Hope within her eyes. And springs of Life beneath her sandalled feet. She is the dawn whose rosy finger-tips Have touched the clouds with glory. \He points to the East. The Crowd. The dawn is breaking ! Hail, O maiden, hail ! Arvat. Yesterday died a thousand years ago, To-day is born like her whose lips are red For promised kisses. Thus light sets back the night. The molten gold of the descending morn Poured from the sightless crucible of heaven Drowns earth in splendour, and a light superb 26 ARVAT Mixes the flushed world and the ambient air In glowing chaos. Stars perish one by one In their deep vaults. The chariot thunders by, Bearing the Ineffable, the Son of Heaven. The pillared volume of the beaming clouds Blares like a trumpet. Crags in the lone sky Are wreathed like swinging censers and a gleam Flashes the tossing emerald of the sea. Come then, ye peoples, to Earth's glorious rising ! Lo ! from the husk of Darkness she breaks forth Radiant and active, jubilant and new. [ffe turns to Arsinoe. And thou. Love, come ! The dewy ways are sweet, And all the world is fragrant for thy feet ; Let not the morning wait in vain on you. ACT II. Scene I. The scene is Arvat's tent pitched upon a remote and stony part of the plain. The sun is setting. Arvat, sur- rounded by the nobles of the land, is seated in council. Arvat. Thus all is well. Ye hear me and agree ; is it not so ? The Nobles. We hear and we agree. Arvat. The rest is Fate. Mark well my words. I recapitulate. To-morrow one host shall arise and go To meet the first rays of the awakening sky Eastward to where Sathana flows O'er marbles redder than the rose, And there in ambush lie. But thou, my friend, shalt wait until thou seest 28 ARVAT Yon golden ridges break into heaven's blue Cloudless and airy. Wait until the view Is fair and bright and Morn invokes the Day. Warrior, then forth ! and in a roaring cloud Of dust and thunder from a thousand hoofs Your steely lightnings shall flash down and slay ; Yea ! women waiting on barbarian roofs Shall wail and weave the shroud. An Old Noble. Well spoken, sir, well spoken. Thy brave words Flow hke the sunlit ripples of a stream O'er our cold hearts. And in thy crimson tent — Arvat. If any man concerning his right place And action in to-morrow's battle harboureth Doubt or mistrust let him speak here and now. Ye all are silent ? Good. Bind back the veil Before the entrance, boy, and let the breeze Of evening play about us and our eyes Feast on the plain. Man stands gigantic here And treads the earthy bauble triumphing, A pillar 'gainst the sky. This battle-ground IS good for gods or men. Courage ! We'll lift our swords on high ARVAT 29 And bring down glorious victory, Remembering that death makes doubly gracious Deeds that can never die. [Enter a messenger. The Messenger. The ambassadors from Tarbia are approaching. Arvat. I go to meet them. But ye, my friends, wait here. Anon, I will return. [Exit Akv AT followed by the messenger. A Young Noble {Rising and stretching himself). Ah me ! I'm stiff. My bones are very stiff. Arvat speaks well, But ... . A Wealthy Noble. He does indeed. His speech is plain and vigorous ; Upon the whole it has my approbation. 'Tis true that some might find it pompous, — barren, — And some resent a negligent omission Of modes prescribed by courtesy. The matter Is one of taste, and I excuse in Arvat Deficiencies which — [He starts and looks over his shoulder. 30 A A' V A r Mull ! I tlutuKlit 'Iwnit he, I would not wound liis sciiHibililicM For all the world. | '/'//<• ;■('// «v Noblt /it»i; /'■''. Y(in iim^li, .sir ? Till'', YoilNO Ndiii.h. Ami why not? A I'oou N()IU,K {/i(ix/i/i'). Yuiilli laugliM ;iiiil knows mil why. llii( juiiy coDtiniir. i'lih; Wh;M;niY NoiiiJC. 1 w.'iH about tu HJiy llml iih a t^riifiiii Aival is cxcfllnil. 1 Imvf im I'ault In (ind With Arval fis a general. Look you hrrr I III three bIioi'I iiioiiIIis hclialh (liHcoiiililril 'I lie- cticniy HO properly I UK I'cjoK Nom.K. That they Ar(; rallcii Iiark find niUMl pcrlorcc t<^iil here Upon thin lion id WflMlr. 1 graiil you till*; But pray coiiHidcr — Till'; Wkai/i'Iiy Noiu,!';. I'll conftiiln iiolliiiif(, I've Huid it, sir, witli Arval am a K'C'ieral— ARVAT 31 The Young Noble. Thou hast no fault to find. I'll tell him so ; 'Twill please him vastly. But I fain would know Why the great warrior bade us wait upon him In this hot tent. Meseemed, his peroration Was well nigh ended. The Poor Noble. Young man, thou hast no knowledge of the court — The Young Noble. What court ? The Poor Noble. Tut, sir ; I say thou hast no knowledge Of functions appertaining to the state. We here are gathered to receive with ceremony The ambassadors from Tarbia. Arvat goes to meet them; He will conduct them to this noble council Here to negotiate, and thus we hope Once more to re-establish amity Between their King and — between two mighty states. The Wealthy Noble. 'Tis so. Should Tarbia join the enemy, Then, verily, I almost should despair. 32 ARVAT The Young Noble. Almost despair ! Nay, nay, I'll not believe it ! The Wealthy Noble. Almost, young man, I said almost. But listen, Give me thine ear. Dost know the tale ? The queen . . . And Arvat's brother ? . . . The Young Noble. Forsooth, I know it, albeit I never knew her Nor Arvat's brother neither. How came it all about ? Was that frail queen like this Arsinoe ? The Wealthy Noble. What ? she our queen like Arvat's rustic bride ! Dost hear that, friends ? Nay, give me space to laugh. And then I'll tell thee. [Laughs. A Gloomy Noble. Young man, thou err'st. She was of different mould ; A being choicer than the gods admit. Poor queen — can I describe her ? She was wayward —nay, Less wayward than perverse, effeminate Rather than feminine ; a girl who never Grew to be woman and therefore doubly dangerous. 'Tis well she's gone. ARVAT 33 The Young Noble. Nay, nay, I wish her here. Thy picture tempts me. The Poor Noble. Youth ! foolish youth ! dost want another victim ? Art not content with fair Arsinoe? \They laugh. The Gloomy Noble [aside). And yet, poor queen, poor queen, she touched my fancy. She had a charming mockery of the world Before she came to pity it. The Young Noble. Arvat's brother, Of him what say ye ? The Wealthy Noble. We liked him not. He was a sullen fellow, — The Gloomy Noble. A rogue, a villain, an impostor, yea, — The Wealthy Noble and the Young Noble (together). Hush, sir, for love of heaven. Here comes Arvat. c 34 ARVAT The Gloomy Noble. Bah ! What care I for Arvat ? Let him hear me ; He loves his villain brother less than I. [Enter Arvat. Arvat. I have received the ambassadors with courtesy, And sent them to the tents we have prepared For their reception. All {in surprise). Hast sent them to their tents ? Wherefore ? Are we not gathered — ? Arvat. My friends, let not this action anger you. It were impolitic to negotiate Before the victory, seeing that after it We can dictate our terms. To-morrow at this hour we will meet, And to the lords of Tarbia present Our postulations. The Wealthy Noble. Excellent sir, the bravour of thy words Compels our admiration, but this point, ARVAT 35 Methinks, escapes thy notice, namely, that Should we be unvictorious in the fight. The noble lords of Tarbia — Arvat. If we be beat to-morrow to-day's oaths Would 'scape the memory of the noble lords. The Old Noble. Ha, ha ! 'tis true. I've not been diplomat These fifty years for nothing. Sirs, 'tis true. Arvat. Thus are we all agreed, and at this hour We'll meet again to-morrow. The Gloomy Noble. Many an one will tarry at a council Where he'll play part more prominent than here, Providing food for animate discussion 'Twixt jackal, wolf, and vulture. The Young Noble, 'Sdeath ! my friend, I've always said thou hast a merry wit. Arvat. We'll meet again to-morrow gloriously. To-night let each man sleep. Let heaven send 36 ARVAT The healing streams that gently wash away The dust and heat of an accomplished day. \Ofthe nobles the greater number depart. Enter a waiting-maid. The Maid. Arvat, the queen — Arvat. There is no queen. Call my wife by her name : Arsinoe. The Maid. My lady — she — Arsinoe requests — Arvat. Then let her enter. The council is dissolved. {Enter Arsinoe. Arsino£. Arvat, dear lord, I could not stay away. Yet was not sure of welcome. Arvat. How so, sweet ? Arsinoe. Your time is all a labour. And I feared me Lest I should interrupt these noble lords, and thus, Unwitting, anger you. ARVAT 37 The Young Noble. Oh, never, never Is lovely moon unwelcome to the night, Never the sun to lizards, dew to flowers. Nor, lady, thou to us. [Kisses her hand : the others all bow low. The Gloomy Noble {aside). Now, by my soul, this youth is past all bearing. Flowers and lizards ! Pah ! Arsinoe. I thank thee, sir. And you, my lords, believe me. If ardent prayers can touch a future issue You'll win to-morrow's battle. The Poor Noble. Honoured lady. Our seeming victory will in truth be thine. The Young Noble. And we will lay our spoils at thy fair feet. Pearls, lady, pearls ! Rubies and beaten gold. 38 ARVAT Arsinoe. Arvat, dear lord, you hear them ? Pearls and rubies ? The Young Noble. Aye, and fine gold and rich embroidery. The Gloomy Noble. 'Tis noticeable These ignorant barbarians have an art Which our acute civilisation lacks. Arvat. Things made for pomp have no employment here. Arsinoe. Arvat, dear lord, you'll not forbid me this ? Arvat. My sweet, what would you do with pearls and rubies ? Arsinoe. Wear them, dear lord. Arvat. Wear them, wear them, — think you That I should love you better for these gauds ? The Young Noble. Consider, sir. They'll not be bought with gold nor borne with pomp — ARVAT 39 Arsinoe [beseechingly). But won by valour and only worn by me. \Enter an old woman. Arsinoe (to woman). Who was he, nurse ? The Woman. I know not. Arvat. Of whom speak ye ? Arsinoe. Of one, a stranger, coming o'er the desert. From the watch-tower we spied him, she and I. Some pilgrim doubtless. I like to sit up high In the cool wind. But, Arvat, let me wear them. The pearls, you'll let me wear them, Arvat ? Yes ? The Gloomy Noble. And what if they be watered with our blood ? Arsinoe. I've prayed for you, my lords, what more can I, A poor girl, do ? But yet more fervently I'll pray to-night that all our enemies 40 ARVAT May die by fire and sword, — and you return Victorious with my pearls. The Gloomy Noble. Oh, gentle lady, I thank thee. The Wealthy Noble. I, too, for thy good wishes. And now, methinks, The supper-hour is come. We'll not detain you. [Bows. The Young Noble. Thy gracious words have armed our hearts with steel. " Victorious with thy pearls ! " We'll die or do it ! [ Tkey all bow and retire. Arsinoe. My lord is silent. You're not angry, Arvat ? Arvat. Nay. Arsinoe. Then why so silent ? There ! you frown on me. You're angry. Arvat. Nay. ARVAT 41 Arsinoe. You're angry ! Lack-a-day, My lord is angry. I would weep, but then He'd only frown the more. Alas ! poor women ! When men discount their weeping. Arvat. Fret not, child, 1 have no anger, none. Arsinoe. Then tell me what Hath grieved my lord. Tell me. Nay, tell me not. I know it. Arvat. Child— Arsinoe. I know it. And a kiss Shall pay my truthful guessing. It is this ; My lord is jealous. Arvat. Jealous ! I jealous ! Madness ! Jealous of whom ? Arsinoe. Nay, dearest lord, confess You are a little jealous and of him, 42 ARVAT The young lord, whom mine eyes have rested on Too kindly, think you. But it is not so. Then kiss me now and to my tent I'll go With heart assuaged and happy. Arvat. Madness ! folly ! You have not looked at him nor he at you. I am not angry. Trouble not, but go. 'Tis better thus. I'll see you presently. [Ext'i Arsinoe. Tke old woman, who has been crouching unremembered in a corner, now rises and stands before Arvat. Arvat. Thou here ! Begone ! The Old Woman. I gazed upon the desert from the tower, From the tall tower while the sun sank in red I gazed — Arvat. Art mad ? What care I ? Get thee gone. The Old Woman. I gazed, and lo ! against the disc of gold Enwrapped in conflagrations of the sky, — ARVAT 43 Marked on the flaming visage of the star — Yet toihng weary on our little earth, There moved the tiny speck that is a man. Arvat. Thou ravest, get thee gone. The Old Woman. He crawled upon the desert's stony floor With all the regularity of Time ; A future point, unknown, inevitable, A distant hour, long watched, approaching not — Seemingly, — till forgot, — and it is here. Thus, Arvat, did I watch the unknown man Until against the stream of western gold I shut my wearied eyes and pondered deep. And soon a bloom of purple dyed the plain And chased the fleeting gleams into the dark. They moaned upon the lonely evening wind. Then turned and fled away. And now the sun has set, the night is cold, And here before thee, Arvat, stands the man. [Ske draws the veil of the tent, disclosing a man : then withdraws. 44 ARVAT Scene II. The Man. My brother, I salute thee. Arvat {after a silence). Come, my brother. Enter the tent. Arvat's Brother. I dare to enter it. [Enters. Arvat. Where is thy sword ? His Brother. My sword is lost. Arvat. Lost, lost ? I'll find one for thee. His Brother. Wherefore ? Arvat. For to fight. ARVAT 45 His Brother. I'll fight thee not. Arvat. Nay, nay, but with the dawn We'll rise to meet our foe. His Brother. I have no foe, The dawn shall find me sleeping. [Tke}/ seat themselves : again there is silence. Arvat. The night is long, my brother, and the dawn Is slow in coming to expectant eyes — His Brother. Aye, slowly comes the dawn. The night is long. Arvat. And I would hear how one poor fleeting year — His Brother. One fleeting year ! Nay, nay, the year was long. 46 ARVAT Arvat. How one poor year could break, could so dismay, Could make of Arvat's brother such a man. His Brother. Why dost thou frown ? Hath age no dignity ? And if one year of quintessential time. Hath wrought such pretty work with hurried hand, Respect the artist. Arvat. Brother, let not grief Waste all its nobler substance in despair. Tell me thy tale, for I would hear what dream, What voice of thine imagination, wrought Such grim disaster, bringing death to many. His Brother. I arose at the bidding of one To whom all reverence from me was due. Such reverence as doth command great woe. So when my mistress came to me and said : " My soul hath longed and sighed for that far shrine, The Holy City, symbol of the Peace, And I would journey thither 'ere I die" — ARVAT 47 Could I refuse ? Nay, the predestined hour Sounded a solemn warning in mine ears ; Yea, I arose to execute the fate. Arvat. Ye sowed vain dreams, the harvest was a curse To living men. His Brother. To living men ? Arvat. Aye, men That live their lives, not mock them. His Brother. They are dead Whom you call living. But no matter now. We started on our way Silently and by night. Her chair was borne By trusted slaves. — Alas, they perished all. — The night was lit by neither moon nor star, It seemed a cavern stuffed with woolly dark, Heavy with rolling vapours and obscure ; Such monstrous gloom was potent to suppress And bind our muffled footfalls to the ground ; 48 ARVAT They were engulfed in the lethargic hours, To perish trackless in the utter night. Onward we went and onward, now a branch Scattered a fragrant moisture on my brow. And now a bat, shaking the silent air, Proved his invisible presence and was gone. Soon to the rhythmic cadence of our feet Our minds gave echo, beating a dull tune. And to this tune the whole of nature bent Her slumberous being. We, with nature one. Found the delight that dwells in monotone — Lived the unthinking life of natural things — Pulsed the inviolate silence of the night. Arvat. When dawn broke Stood ye amid the mountains ? His Brother. Nay, the plain Still beckoned us with misty distances. Oh, bitter-sweet avenger of the Past ! Oh, dream of days evanished, Memory ! Spare me not. Spare me not. Let me still recall How she, the loveliest of mortals, spoke : ARVAT 49 " The pale grey dawn up to the lattice closed And o'er the silent fields has crept ; and lo ! The slumbering earth has not awakened yet, But from the cold stars, infinitely far, A breath has fallen upon her in her sleep. She feels it and she wonders, and the trees Have hushed their whispering leaves in wonder too. So cool and still the hour, so faint the glow ! Oh, can this be the world of yesterday ? The wanton world so eager for delight, Colourless now, colourless, calm and grey. My little earth, I love you better so. Embalmed in quietness, demure and sad, Better than when your rapturous sunny way Bids me be glad." " Yea, verily," said I, " this ghostly shimmer, This strange unlocalised precursor of the morn. Speaks but of coming sorrow. Soon will Day, Eager and treacherous and wild and sad, Steal, pantherlike, across the distant hill With gleaming eyes and frenzied by their flame Men rise to laugh and weep." Arvat. Haste thee, for thou must finish ere day dawn. so ARVAT His Brother. It shall be finished, brother, finished, finished. Arvat. Speak on. His Brother. My brain is numb. We travelled far- Whither I know not ; — but we travelled on Deep into realms of dark autumnal night We travelled. And we were borne by mystic waterways, Where leafy twilight was for us the day — Hung on the glassy surface of a stream We traced its winding passage patiently. High-branching vaults of verdure overlaid Flung the far image of their deep recess Upon the waters ; and anon would fall Sere leaves and withered, golden, fluttering, — Fairy flotillas drifting to the sea. — And did they seek for death in that slow stream Nor once regret the boughs untenanted ? The boughs that soon so delicate and bare Must point and shiver at the angry sky ARVAT 51 Winter-bestormed ? Ah ! little leaves, the tale Of your sad wanderings on yon sad stream Harks the eternal echoes of the world. Not once, but year on year, winter, then spring, Spring, summer, autumn, winter, year on year. And thus we fade and'flutter. . •. . Yet is there not a balm in such oblivion ? In the effacement of the yester-year A pitiful blessing ? Oh, look not, look not back ! Set not on Hope the seal of vanity. And if the past have voices let them die. 'Tis they that linger on this lovely earth, And with the pain of speechless wailings mar Insolent nature. Brother, hast thou not heard The sound of human sobbing in the sea. And in the wind a pitiful thin sound. And in the fluttering whispers round the eaves, And in the beating of the rain at night ? Never ? what, never ? Ah me ! My poor brother. Thou art driven, driven. . . . Arvat. Drink this wine and rouse thee. Thy spirit wanders. [He hands his brother a cup. 52 ARVAT His Brother. Alas ! thine wandereth not. But when thine hour is come, for thine own sake, Think not of me. [ ffe drinks. O wave of liquid fire ! Thou hold'st me and shalt bear me to the end. [ There is a silence. Then he rises and draws the veil of the tent, showing the moon. Look yonder, what sweet light ! She whom thou lovest looked on it and sang : " Each floweret opens with a sigh, Each elf emerges silently. The great moths sweep the midnight sky Bearing their dainty plunder. And moon hke silver bubble steep Hangs o'er the woods where goblins creep; And winds are low. And night is deep. And faeries dance, And mortals sleep. And heaven is wonder." Arvat. She whom I love is named Arsinoe. ARVAT S3 His Brother. Poor brother, clench thy teeth. Shut out the moon. She's music to the voice of thy regret. Listen ! Her music steaHng out of silence fills The vibrant air with yearning. O, my soul, From God's arcane what nameless passion reels, Indolent, reckless, sad. O, the divine distress of beauty ! Is it love ? Is it a pity for the hearts that mourn To be so poor and sad, that yet will rise Before the majesty of woven sound And tremble, supphant. Spirit, spirit, what air ? What breath of answering incense fills the shrine Where I so worship ? Thou divinest God, Why quiver with thy presence this mean earth ? Wherefore this glory and wherefore dost thou deign On painted canvas to dictate such dawns Unknown to earth or sun ? Such radiant air. Great lights down-flung and wondrous forms of men, Earth's peace foreseen when the Madonna smiles And blessed fields Elysian ! Wake, my brother ! Wake ! for the meaning of the world is here ! 54 ARVAT Arvat. There is a madness in thy fevered speech. I cannot understand thee. His Brother. Nay. Thou canst. Arvat. I cannot understand this wild appeal. His Brother. Thou canst. Arvat. I will not. Thou art weak, and sorrow Has been too heavy for thee. Sleep till dawn. His Brother. Before me lies eternity for sleep ; This night I dedicate to thee, my brother, And in this night a thousand years shall pass. And hopes of youth shall glide like ghosts and go. Arvat. Speak on. His Brother. I will. And stab thee to the heart. ARVAT SS She whom thou lovest travelled on with me Into the wilderness. And as we went forever more profound Was the deep stillness of that silent place. No echoes lived ; no birds to sing ; no trees To bring forth fruit, and all the ground was bare. Black stones, broadcast, lay on the pearly sand, Big rocks, smooth, black, half buried here and there — And in his brazen sky the silent sun Supreme and royal burned. He drank her blood. The vampire sun he drank her blood ; he drank it And sank in bloody red. She looked at me and in her eyes was fear. Then darkness fell upon our crouching forms. And spirits riding on the wings of night Came to us wild and whispered in our ear : " What seek ye here ? Hath life no sweeter lure Than that which lies beyond the veil of death ? What seek ye here in this dim border-land 'Twixt flesh and spirit ? O benighted souls, Of changeful forms this is the limbo drear. Forms half in flesh and stuttering forms and clinging Ramp on the ground and hover in mid-air. Hence, idle mortals, seek not deathless day 56 ARVAT While yet for you remains a death to die." And when the morning came I did not dare To meet her eyes, knowing what I should see. And she was sad, my hrother, she was lonely ; For what exceeds llic loneliness of death ? One little being battling for its all Before the engulfing portals of the tomb. Unhelped ; for who can help ? Uncomfortcd ; For who can comfort ? What mask can hide the villainous jaws of Fate? The dying watch. The dying are apart. They have no kin. Their furtive eyes arc striinge. 'Tis then, 'tis then that the defenceless soul Visits the past. Pale as the wailing spirit of a child Which, haunting scenes that it was meant to know, The mother's empty arms, disconsolate, Sees and outpours its unsubstantial tears, And wrings small hands no answering hamls can hold. Thus pale, thus wild and wan iicr loveliness, Distracted by regret. In vain I said : " You go to meet the tender earth's embraces She calls you like a mother aiul you go. Was she not ever prodigal of flowers ? ARVAT 57 Has she not gladdened all your golden youth ? Fear not, fear not ! And soon shalt thou be one With all that blooms and blossoms on the wold And all the many murmurs shalt thou know Of midnight woods and fields of ripening grain. Yea, thou shalt learn Earth's greenest mysteries And the grey wonders of her deepest sea." We travelled on. We passed the wilderness, leaving our hopes behind. And thus we travelled lighter. . Golden suns Rose and passed over us and sank again. Time flowed and we were dumb. At last we came To a vast plain of grass and withered flowers. Red, yellow, blue, and white. None stood thereon Save one, a tall Goat-headed Man, who muttered And strode the desolation, sorrowing. The wind that blew bore filaments of speech. Spoken long years ago, and sometimes laughter. Drifting like cobweb. And once it chanced we heard A voice that was her own. Ah then, compassionate. She raised her arms and mourned. I strove to chide her. I strove to chide and said : "Bowed head were more befitting to calm death 58 ARVAT And lips that ask forgiveness faltering- Knees bent in adoration, folded hands And heart made holy with the hope of peace. Meet him with smiles and with one gentle sigh Yield to the great Consoler what life gave, Your little gift to Death. Is it so sweet, This treasure of remembrance of past days ? Is it the perfume of the perished flowers That makes them still delicious ? Is the song Of long ago still echoing ? Nay, the wind That bears these pale and flimsy fragments hither Has blown across the desert of the years And it is chill." " But not so cold, my brother, not so cold As that which hither blows from where I go." " Patience, my noble sister, death is near." Then blew an icy gust across the plain And like a great array of marching men The lance-like grasses billowed in salute. The silver thistle-down was borne along, In tiny stars it danced upon the breeze And rustling voices spoke from every blade. Each slender leaf bowed an obedient head Before the Invisible, the Mighty One whose breath Sweeps like a wind around our little world. I watched it coming and my heart was chill. ARVAT 59 I looked at her — my brother, she was fair, I saw the blue veins beat in her white throat. Once, twice, and thrice, — again, again, and then — O, gift of breath, light as the thistle-down. Blown in a sob or whisper of the wind. Great darkness fell upon the plains forlorn. And the wind passed into some other place ; And silence waiting for the solemn night Showed my sad heart another woeful thing. Incarnate Time bared his remorseless face. And poured the icy minutes drop by drop From fathomless eyes. And his comminghng tears Were as a darkling mirror to the sky. An awful deep of quietness and time, When lo ! the pool of mystery, shuddering. Burst its strained barriers and I knew no more. When I awoke above me was the moon Bathed in the infinite blue, alone and fair. She smiled upon the white and withered flowers Like dawn upon the visage of the dead. Upon her face I saw the ancient scars. The buffets of immeasurable time. Crater and plain, ravine and precipice, Drinking the untamed radiance of the sun. 6o ARVAT Drinking the golden light, the light of hope, Vainly and vainly — [He draws tke veil of the tent. Look on her, my brother, And shout your braggard paeans if you dare. Arvat. A toiler art thou in the gloom, a man Who carries night within himself, one cursed With his own brooding image, which he sees Cast on the stagnant waters of his soul, And in those depths are Desolation, Fear, And foamy Madness with her bloodshot eyes And twisted mouth. Why didst thou come, my brother ? His Brother. To give thee tidings of thy perished love. Arvat. My love is with the living. Messenger Of self-destruction, thou caressest that Which thou dost fear and hate. Behold ! for thee Death wears the mask of Beauty and thy soul Between a languor and a languor sinks Killed by the frenzy of its false desire. ARVAT 6i His Brother. Arvat, beware ! for life is yet more cruel Than cruel death. Arvat. O, my accursed brother ! Why hast thou come ? To-morrow I must fight. To-morrow I must lead, to-morrow win, And make my name a glory. His Brother. Vanity ! Since God won't lead, why, let the lowest lead. Lead, Arvat, lead ! Lead what and whereunto ? Fools to their folly ! Speak ! Are they not fools ? Arvat. I'll teach them Wisdom. His Brother. Which thou knowest not. Arvat. I'll give them Happiness. His Brother. Which is not your gift. 62 ARVAT Arvat, I'll give them Love. His Brother. Arvat, thou canst not do it. Arvat, Doubter and hypocrite ! base heart of weak alarms I Poor unrebellious slave of misery 1 I see thee search, as does the ape his fur, Thy puny soul for parasitic doubt. Stung by thine own diseased self-questionings, Thou in self-scorn wouldst scorn this valiant world. Dost see no courage in our merry-making ? Canst thou not make rebellion and be gay ? Nay, nay, thy smooth insidious wordw are false, Base sycophant of an imagined truth Which is the bastard offspring of despair 1 Look not at me with calm contemptuous eyes. Thou knowest my thought ? Aye, wise and weary one, 1 loved her too, and I am sorely stricken Sick unto death, ye gods, sick unto death. Howbeit I despair not ; I will live, And life shall still be fair and free. But thou. Lover of death, the death that thou dost flatter Shall eat thee with a sneer. [He draws his sword and cuts down his brother. ARVAT 63 His Brother. I thank thee, brother; and thoa, my supple sparit, Yield me to shmiber. Let me dream awav My mortal self; I ask you but for sleep And languorous oblmon and the deep Indifference I love. And mine own smile On all things mortal shall my soul beguile In everia^ing quietn^. I see The world sink down and faint and fade from me. And all its tides and all its gliding streams Wash me to this Euthanatos of dreams Where all is nothing. Then pass hence, O Breath, One g^ash of sjriiit whelms me and the end Is death. [Dies. Akvat. Thus dies he ; — ^but I live, and by my deeds I'll prove that man is great. For tis not Trell That man should kncvr the littleness of man. ACT III. Scene I. Six months have elapsed since the last Act. The scene is a court strewn with rubbish, at the back of which is a ruined Temple. Enter a company of nobles and elders together with the High Priest. The Wizen Noble. This is the place where Arvat bade us meet him ; Here will we wait. The Gloomy Noble. A dismal scene, God wot. Well suited to the business of the day. The High Priest. Nay, nay. 'Twill all be well. 'Twill all be well. The Young Noble. The holy Seer is an optimist, He cares no jot what happens. 66 ARVAT The Wizen Noble. Hush, my son. Forgive him, holy Seer ; he is young. [Enter the Wealthy Noble. The Wealthy Noble. Just now as I was coming down the street, — Can you believe it, sirs ? — the people hooted — Hooted at me I The Poor Noble. Monstrous ! The scurvy ruffians Envy thy wealth. Each day their insolence Becomes a greater menace. The Wealthy Noble. They hooted, sir ! Hooted at me ! The Wizen Noble. And this hath Arvat done. The High Priest. I will admonish them. The Wizen Noble. The fault's not theirs But his who leads them. Holy Seer, thou ARVAT 67 Hast no conception what ferocity Dwells in that murderer's breast. The Gloomy Noble. Arvat did well to slay his villain brother, Seducer of the queen. The Wealthy Noble. With Arvat as a general 1 have no fault to find ; but now, praise heaven. We have no need of generals. The Young Noble. As a husband Arvat is careless, and yet nature tells me He must be jealous. The High Priest. I will admonish him. The Young Noble. Nay, lofty Seer, it were unwise to do it. The High Priest. Hast thou an evil conscience, O my son. The Young Noble. Nay, lofty Seer, I have none at all. 68 ARVAT The Wizen Noble. The innocent boy ! Such is his blamelessness That never prick or sting of conscience yet Hath drawn his mild attention to that organ. The High Priest. Oh, blessed innocence ! Oh, blameless soul ! The Wizen Noble. My son is zealous in two worthy causes. His country first ; second, the unhappy girl Arvat hath married. He would succour both. The High Priest. What would he do for them ? The Wizen Noble. Save them, holy Seer. The High Priest. Ha! The Young Noble. I trust 'tis clear. Thou, Seer, savest souls. Save, save — the word's familiar, eh ? ARVAT 69 The Wealthy Noble. Who speaks of saving ? Let him first save me. I am devoured by the multitude. They seize my wealth and hoot me in the street. The Poor Noble. Shameful ! But see ! here comes our messenger. [Enter the Old Noble. What news, my noble lord ? Was he persuaded ? The Old Noble. Alas ! my friends, the news I bring is bitter. His resolution is unshakeable ; He runs to his destruction. The Wizen Noble. The sooner madman falls from the wild summit Of his own madness . . . But The High Priest. He's not mad as yet. The Wealthy Noble. Arvat is changed. I, too, am changed. I'm thinner. 'Tis care that does it. 70 ARVAT The Old Noble. O, why does ruin beckon to the best And madness lure the mighty ? [He points to the entrance to the Temple. Those mean doors Will swallow up another valiant soul And blank distortion warp another spirit. The Gloomy Noble. The lesson's plain. Man is an animal Unsuited to nobility's thin air. Most man when he's most human, And most human vile. Even such is man. The Old Noble. Since Arvat slew his brother Arvat is changed. He walks as one who's haunted. The High Priest. I know that sign. It is the prick of conscience. Why comes he not to me ? The Wealthy Noble. Why not to me ? I am the appointed judge. Indeed, my lords — ARVAT 71 The Young Noble. Man of the world, no better judge than I. The Wealthy Noble. Indeed, my lords, my duty as a judge Requires that I summon him to judgment, But, mindful of his service to the State, I hesitate. The Wizen Noble. A proud refusal of your ofifices Leads Arvat hither. His presumption scorns Authority. While Doubt, new-born and crude, Enthrones the pride of reason and bows down To that projected image of the self. Scorning all other law. The Old Noble. Alas, poor Arvat ! Thy sacrilege divides us. We must turn — Aye, we must turn us from the hand which saved,- And see our saviour perish ! The Poor Noble. Honoured sir, Call me not thankless if I deprecate 72 ARVAT Your kind emotion as extravagant. Our enemies are routed, — I grant you this, — But here within the boundaries of our land Arvat hath raised another deadlier foe, And in the name of justice — The Wealthy Noble. Takes my wealth And bids the people hoot me in the street. The Old Noble. Alas, 'tis true. He walks with knitted brow and ruthlessly Makes ruin of all that time and hallowed custom Have wrapped in robes of beauty. The grim preoccupation of his spirit, Guessing its error and therefore doubly rigid, Drives him to this — and here perforce we part. Elders and noble lords, my hairs are grey, And grey my life that narrows to its end, With dimmed eyes, faltering voice, unsteady gait ; I'm old, my lords, but what of life remains In the dry parchdd tenement of my spirit Goes to this protest. Oh, be ye not deceived By fallacies of arrogance and envy ! Defend your right, and, while defending it. ARVAT 73 Remember 'tis not yours but theirs who won it : — The dead, whose blood is in you. My lords, yours is A sacred trust of noble ancestry Still to be handed on. Your gentle grace, Your kindly bearing, your ease, your courtesy, Are gifts of generations who have won them ; And as a fragrant bloom doth haply spring From the same ground that feeds the useful herb. So doth your ancient chivalry repay In beauty and perfume the earth that bears it. The Elders and Nobles. Well spoken. 'Tis well spoken. The Wizen Noble. Noble lords ! Although such eloquence as this lies far Beyond my scope, yet am I fain to speak And crave your patience for my halting tongue. These reverend elders have deputed me To voice their wisdom. We represent the state Whose welfare hangs on our just resolutions. No sentiments of personal affection Must warp our judgment, nor must we stop our cars To the stern summons of the present hour. Into our hands a powerful instrument 74 ARVAT Was placed in time of need ; we found a man Whose qualities were suited to our purpose. Arvat's young vigour and enthusiasm Were well directed where their ficirc^Hl fiic Was most required. No need for modcriilioii When the whole mission was hut to destroy. But now, my friends, my iioljlc fiicnds, conHider! This elemental force which wnw our Hcrvaut Becomes ;i very master I TlIK I'oou NoIlM',. What ? Despite his vows, Despite his protcstatiouH, will he take The sceptre ofifercd by the populace? After such long refusal will he yield ? TiiK WizKN NonM';. Nay, nay, the yoke which Arvat would iiupoKC Is heavier than a kingship ! 'Tis not his n.-iinc And perishable person he would set Foremost and first above us, but his creed. Presumption knows no fiercer arrogance. He scorns the ancient wisdom of the world, Wliicli wisdom lies in us. 'I'liK Wkai.thv NOItlJC. Well said, In us. ARVAT 75 The Wi/en Noble. As we all know, my friends, this kindly world Has a persuasion which is all her own. Leading to her own wisdom. As we live We learn to be not this nor that but neither Or both as opportunity demands. And this (note well since honesty's involved), Without the sacrifice of principle. How is it done ? What works this daily wonder ? Plain Compromise, good sirs, plain Compromise. 'Tis this immortal doctrine that has taught us That if a lie's Charybdis, truth is Scylla, Both pitfalls for the unsophisticated. But we know how to balance all extremes, Mix fire with snow still keeping both unchanged (Expediency's of lukewarm temperature). Love and admire contraries at once. And with a generous optimism hold That bad is good (could we but see it so). All this, my friends, we do by Compromise. Yea, even love our enemies, for since Idealism is a yeast that makes The bread of common-sense more palatable. We take so much, not more. [He pauses. Now what of Arvat ? 76 ARVAT The Wealthy Noble. To all this he is blind. The Poor Noble. Experience he resists. The Old Noble. Benighted soul ! Doth he not know his own Creator took A little flesh and mixed a little spirit To make a man ? Was this not compromise ? The Wizen Noble. He worships Happiness. From Beauty's corpse Cuts morsels which he tosses to the mob. They sniff suspicious and go unappeased. The Old Noble. 'Tis horrible but true. The Wizen Noble. I ask you, sirs, Is there naught else on earth but happiness For men to seek ? No other dim desire ? Must all the useless beauty of the world Be sacrificed to this ignoble good ? ARVAT 77 No, no, a thousand times. And yet, my lords, Do we not place humanity 'bove all And charity which holds one human life More precious than a thousand ornaments And niceties of Culture and of Art ? O blessed Compromise ! Look round how fair, How excellent the progress of the world ! Tis true. The Wealthy Noble. The Poor Noble. And yet . . . The Wealthy Noble. I say, 'tis true. The Poor Noble. Why, yes. Undoubtedly 'tis true. The Wizen Noble. Can you conceive, I ask you, sirs, can you conceive a man So blind, so warped in reason, so perverse As not to apprehend this truth ? I cannot. Yet such a man is Arvat. 78 ARVAT The Poor Noble. He's a monster. The Wizen Noble. Aye, such a man is Arvat, he who slew His noble-hearted brother. The Poor Noble. But— The Wizen Noble. No more ! De mortals . . . And after all, my friends, Are we not men as he was ? Shall we spit Upon his early and unnatural grave ? The Gloomy Noble. He was a traitor to the State. The Wizen Noble. A traitor ! A traitor, say you ? Nay, my lords, I swear He loved the State and us past all belief. He loved the people and was loved by them. He was my friend ; I mourn his memory. ARVAT 79 The Wealthy Noble. Now this man Arvat is of different mould, Heis— The Wizen Noble. A formidable foe, my lords, a danger . . . The Elders. A very present danger. The Wizen Noble. We must fight, Fight to the death. Unless he dies we die. The Poor Noble. 'Twixt Arvat and the people we are lost. The Wizen Noble. 'Twixt us and them Arvat will surely fall. Who loves humanity is not loved by men, Nor loves them. He's an egoist, my friends. Self-sacrifice his hobby. The Poor Noble. Oh, sir, deceive us not ! Arvat hath yet The power to crush us. 8o ARVAT The Wizen Noble. Aye, he hath yet the power, But ... . The Gloomy Noble. Speak on, I conjure thee. The Wizen Noble. Led by the ghost of his revengeful brother, He moves towards that temple of lost hope ; Who enters there emerges weaponless. The Gloomy Noble. What power dwelk therein ? What hidden know- ledge Lies in that guardian darkness ? The Wizen Noble {to the High Priest). Thou couldst tell us. The Young Noble. Tell us, O holy Seer ! The High Priest. Not safe. Not safe. ARVAT 8i The Poor Noble. 'Tis writ above the temple door that no man Learns ought therein that he knew not before. The High Priest. No heart consents to know all that the brain Doth whisper. The Old Noble. There are secrets , . . The Wizen Noble. Aye, aye, secrets Which are the root and fabric of our life ; • These to ignore is the chief part of wisdom. The Old Noble. Yet once again I will warn Arvat. The Wizen Noble. Nay, Let him unthwarted enter ! Let the future Choose between him and us. Peace now ; he comes. [Enter Arvat. The Old Noble. Arvat, I warn thee ! Enter not ! Abstain From doing violence to Nature's law 82 ARVAT Which law is also God's. In every age, in every clime, since man First trod the wondering earth, there have been secrets Too intimate for the frail human heart. Arvat. I am led on. The Old Noble. Oh, seize Humility! Win her by force, by treason, by deceit, But win her, and accept authority Other than that. S^He points to the temple. Arvat. Too late. I am led on. The Old Noble. He scorns the gods who dares to enter there, For there are holy things which mortal touch Turns to corruption. The mist of human thought Tarnishes all their glory. Arvat. Farewell, old man. In this rough world there is an enmity ARVAT 83 Even 'twixt good and good. Time's stream hath cataracts Where friendly barques are buffetted together Till one or other sink. Give me your hand. Farewell. The Old Noble. So be it, Arvat; but you or I Lay up remorse in heaven for this blindness. [^Exit with the Nobles and Elders. Arvat [alone). What faith is that which fears to know the worst? Which fears lest truth dispel an idle dreaming ? Does God fear sacrilege ? Nay, let him strike me then With fulminations of divinity And be no longer God. \He advances towards the temple. Each moment bears a choice, and not to choose Is to choose wrong. Fate shall not waver between them and me. She shall decide and quickly. There's a cloud Has hung too long between me and the sun, And all is grey . . . grey since I slew my brother. But mark ye, 'Tis black with white that makes it, and this hour 84 ARVAT Shall sift the colours separate and shall show Which hue is mine. [He mounts the temple steps. Is it not true that I Have saved the State ? The people now can live. In one great ultimate battle did I rout The foe that has already learnt to fear me ; And now the grateful populace are mine, Mine to make free. There's much wants doing yet. Puffed arrogance and lean servility Still strut and cringe ; as ever cheek by jowl ; The baggy cheeks of wealth, the scraggy jowl Of pauper, — these still figure in the farce Which all this petty world has played so long. Give me but time, give me but time, I'll change it. Time . . . time . . . There is an echo in this place; I'm growing superstitious . . . Mine own words Seem pregnant for a listener that I see not. \He looks over his shoulder. I am alone. There's no one in the world But that he is alone. The lot is common. Why then do I who am more man than they Groan where they laugh and feed my solitude With grieving ? Yea, I am alone, and yet Some ghost hath tracked my restless spirit hither. Some canker eats away my aching soul, Some shadow watches. O my accursed brother. ARVAT 8s More potent art thou dead than e'er alive. Is this revenge or is it punishment ? I slew thy bodj' and thou slayest my spirit. \JIe enters the temple. Scene II. Enter Arsixoe. Aksinoe. Am I too late ? The temple is deserted. The people aU are gone. And Arvat ? Oh, where is he ? Is he within ? How mean and small a place To tempt his worship. Temples large and fair, Full of faint incense and sweet singing boys, Invite him ! Yea, the wise and holy Seer Offers him pardon ! Oh, Arvat, thou art proud. I am afiraid for thee. And here alone Amid this ruin for myself I fear. The sun has dyed the west an awful red. And now these walls are bleached a piaUid grey. Cold is the wind of evening. Arvat, we are strangers ; I shall not dare to love thee after this. [Enter t':e Ycung Xoblc Sir. why come j'ou hither ? Is it to mock me that you seek me now ? 86 ARVAT The Young Noble. Oh. gracious lady . . . Arsinoe. Leave me, leave me, sir. I'd be alone in this abandoned place. I'd "have wolves come and rend me. The Young Noble. Merciful heavens ! [TArows himself down on his knees. Though her displeasure be more cruel than death, I cannot leave my queen unguarded here. Arsinoe. I am no queen. And prithee, sir, withdraw. The Young Noble. Though Arvat be no king yet art thou queen ; Nature proclaims thee one, and were I Arvat Thou shouldst not lack thy title. ARSINOfi, It is true, I might be queen . . . Oh, Arvat, thou art proud, Too proud to be a king. But I'll be patient. ARVAT 87 The Young Noble. Too long hast thou been patient, O my queen. Arsinoe. What mean those words ? The Young Noble. I mean . . . But hark. 'Tis thunder. The sky is black and heavy. Come with me And I will tell thee tales of love, and spin The dreary time away. Come, queen. This court is haunted. Arsinoe. Haunted ! Then stay. Stay with me here till Arvat Come from that awesome place. For I must see him. The Young Noble. Why must thou see him ? Arsinoe. Sir, I must. I must. My spirit tells me that calamity Is closing round with darkness — like the night. The Young Noble. It is an idle fancy. Heed it not. 88 ARVAT Arsinoe. Nay, nay, else why this anguish ? Why this terror, Which even now is creeping like a flood Up to my throat ? The Young Noble. 'Tis that this place is haunted. Come with me. Arsinoe. Sir, I cannot. And yet why not ? Why am I waiting ? Were he now to come What could I say to him ? He is a stranger, And grows more strange and distant every day. Why is this ? The Young Noble. Queen, he has an air of madness — Arsinoe. Madness ! Ye heavens ! speak it not. That word Since my first childhood makes me faint and tremble ; So hush, sir, hush ! O, what a swarm of cares Batters the threshold of the weary mind. Alas, none knows how much I think and suffer ; How weary I, how wishful to be glad. ARVAT 89 The Young Noble. My pretty queen ! Hast thou come wandering amid the tombs In search of a light heart ? Come, fly with me ! Quick to the realms of fancy ! Fairyland Shall be thy home and I thy fairy lover. Arsinoe, Sir, thou art kind that thou wouldst comfort me. The Young Noble. Command me, queenj for I am yours till death. Arsinoe. I bid my fairy lover sing to me ; Sing to me something happy. The Young Noble {sings). " Once were there days of dalliance together ; In bygone times, God wot, the days were fair, When Lightly-won would bid no man despair, And Loving-lightly swears he'll ne'er forget her. Whose love is as the sunlight in her hair, Laughter and lure of idle summer weather.'' [He breaks off. Why do you sigh ? 90 ARVAT Arsinoe.'' I sighed ? The Young Noble. Still sad ? Arsinoe. And yet I could as easily laugh at something gay. . . . The Young Noble. Only? Arsinoe. There's nothing gay to laugh at. Sir, your song, Like withered rose-leaves in a wintry room, Is scented with regret. The Young Noble. We'll bring them back Those golden times, my queen, and thou shalt be — [A voice is heard singing the following lines, and an aged beggar appears. The Voice. " The earth is fair. But underneath The worms, they writhe around, ARVAT 91 They writhe around both day and night, Beneath the damp dark ground. The bones, they drop their garment off; The skull begins to grin, The coffin cracks. The lank roots twine. The rain, it trickles in, And—" I beg your pardon, lady, I fear I startled you. Arsinoe. Ah ! woe is me ! Ah, woe is me ! An omen ! [Ske covers her face with her hands. The Young Noble. Thou croaking raven, open thy beak again, I'll run thee through. The Aged Beggar. Forgive me, noble lord, my song — The Young Noble, Silence, old carrion crow. Sweet queen, be comforted. Give me your hand. Come ; so. This little hand Makes me a king and all the world is naught The while I hold it. 92 ARVAT The Aged Beggar. With your permission, gracious lady, I will rest me here a while. My left sandal is torn and I must needs mend it. ARSINOfi. He frightens me. His song came as an omen. The Aged Beggar. You should not have heeded my song, lady. I myself do not listen to my songs. I think they are without meaning. I sing them because they have been taught me, and because the common people some- times give me money for singing them. The Young Noble. Come away, my dearest queen. Arsinoe. Yes; let us come away. How cold it is. How dark it is. The wind Is rising — listen ! — and the temple gleams White like a tomb. The Aged Beggar. There will be a storm. It was on such a night as this that my wife and children were struck by fire from heaven and I was left alone. ARVAT 93 Arsinoe. A judgment from above ! I knew him to be a wicked man when first I cast my eyes upon him. The Aged Beggar. Doubtless. And yet such is my guilty folly that I cannot discover my sin. It is a solemn and awful thought that a man may sin and sin and be ignorant thereof. The Young Noble. Come away, my queen. [^Exeunt. Scene III. {Darkness falls. Thunder.) The Aged Beggar {chants). " And is the wind more sad ? And is the sky No longer glad ? And do I hear afar The moaning of an unseen fearful day ? [Thunder. The door of the temple opens and Arvat appears. Spirit of night 1 94 ARVAT Voice of the deep ! Heard in the silence In loneliness In sleep Whither the way ? Whither the way?" [Arvat descends the steps as one dazed. Arvat. I have dreamed the foulest dream that ever battened on the brain of man. I have dreamed a ghoulish dream. The Aged Beggar. Sir? Arvat. I have seen the damnation of good, the triumph of evil, the earth crack and serpents rising from the pit. The Aged Beggar. Thou hast dreamed, sir ? Arvat. Aye, sir ! But I will see no more of these things. ARVAT 95 The Aged Beggar. What things hast thou seen ? Arvat. Look at me, sir. What am I ? Am I a tiger ? Am I a serpent ? Am I a monkey ? Am I a louse ? No ! Then I will see no more of these things. The Aged Beggar. What hast thou seen ? Nay, tell me not. But come ; we must seek shelter ere the storm burst. Arvat. My sword ! Where is my sword ? The Aged Beggar. Come, sir. Arvat. Where is my sword ? The Aged Beggar. Come, sir. The storm will burst. Arvat. My sword ! 96 ARVAT ■ The Aged Beggar. Of what use is a sword ? I never had one. Never. Arvat. It is lost. The Aged Beggar. Aye. Thou hast lost thy sword, but no matter. Come with me. Arvat. It is lost. Shall I come with thee ? The Aged Beggar. Aye. Arvat. Whither ? The Aged Beggar. I know not ; but I wander. Men are good ; they feed me on the way. Arvat. They beat thee ? ARVAT 97 The Aged Beggar. Not often, sir. Arvat. Old man, why do they beat thee ? The Aged Beggar. I know not. Arvat. But I know. Go thou alone. The Aged Beggar. As thou wilt, sir. Arvat. Nay ! 'tis not as I will. Stay ! I will go with thee. Away ! away ! I'll go with thee. I'll rave and dance and spit, And mock created man with horrid madness. I'll make my image funny and disgusting For every knave to laugh at. The Aged Beggar. Nay, I fear thee. Whence comest thou ? 98 ARVAT Arvat. From there. Look you. From there. The Aged Beggar. It is a fearsome building. Arvat. That ugly box, that dark and filthy prison, Hath windows on the world and doors to heaven, And pits dug deep that are themselves a hell. That dusky hall of mirrors is more vast Than labyrinthine maze, where skeletons Grin at their own defeat. There, hungrier Than ever mortal body, Thought doth wander. Till he doth likewise grin. The Aged Beggar. God save thee, sir. Arvat. There was a thing I knew not. Now I know. It has stared me in the face and squeezed my heart Till that's no more than putty. Poor old man. Had fate been kind I should have been as thou. And let my innocence rest safe upon itself, ARVAT 99 A sheltered nest in the gale. Oh ! Innocence Thyself thy private kingdom and reward ! Justice ! base coin from the hoards of hell, For thee I've bartered innocence away, And stand a creaking wreckage on the sands Of desolate and sempiternal Time. And thou that roll'st and roU'st, thou monstrous ocean, Roll up thy tides and sink me down gulf-deep. Suck back thy waters. Leave me shivering. Mount, mount ! — fall, fall ! Thou always art despair. The Aged Beggar. Unhappy man, who art thou ? Arvat. Get thee gone ! I've nought to do with thee, nor thou with me. Begone ! Thou art a man, therefore I hate thee. Yea, man, I hate thee. Meanest animal That crawls beneath the sun. Perfected wretch. Using thy hell-sent wit to serve thyself With multiple deceits and villainy That honest beast ignores. The Aged Beggar. But thou, sir, art a man. lOO ARVAT Arvat. Aye. What of that ? Despise thyself and find therein a glory. 'Tis all remains. Come nearer. Dost thou know That this, the central fiery flame of doing, The will to action, passionate desire, Combat and triumph, victory, despair, Are nothing ? Mark you, nothing ! Oh ! thou sumptuous earth. When I beheld thy lakes, thy seas, thy mountains. And man for ever toiling splendidly, When I beheld thy nations and thy creeds And heard the voices and the march of hope, Then did my heart leap up, then did mine eyes Fill to their flowing, and my jubilant tongue Praise all creation, but now . . . Old man, begone ! Be stranger to thyself; have reverence ; Conquer imagination ; honour creeds ; Shun speculation ; live the animal : Be happy. The Aged Beggar. Yes, sir. ARVAT loi Arvat. Then tell me how 'tis done. For thou art happy ; Is it not so, old man ? The Aged Beggar. Oh ! sir. I had a wife and four children but they all died. I loved them as my life; and yet I am happy again now. Arvat. A wife ? Thou hadst a wife ? The Aged Beggar. Aye. And 1 love her still. Arvat. O slavish wretch ! The Aged Beggar. Why, sir ? Arvat. A woman ! Thou lov'st a woman ? And a dead one at that. The Aged Beggar. Hast thou a wife ? 102 ARVAT Arvat. I have. Beauty, I thought me, beauty, make it thine ; Fair Hfe, fair thought, fair form are here in one. Here canst possess, possessing yet aspire, Clasp love's incarnate self and yet perceive His image beckoning on. Accursed shade, I followed thee, I followed thee, I followed Fierce through the sombre gateway of fulfilment, And lo ! I find me here. The Aged Beggar. Dost thou no longer love her ? Arvat. Love her, poor fool ? Love woman ? I'm a man. 'Tis she whose sanguine lips incarnadine My recreant soul, whose languid eyelid's flutter Shakes me, whose perjured bosom is the sea Whereon I founder, while her small teeth bite And hell rejoices. Oh, she is fatal. She Knows all the victorious guile of generations By which the slave enslaves. Her mystery Bears all unveiling. Her paltriness suggests A false infinity, and like Achilles Racing the tortoise, man doth never win. ARVAT 103 The Aged Beggar. Nay, but, a country, a home, a family and warm friends, such as I had. What of these, sir ? Arvat. I know them not. Where, where is tenderness to comfort me That this my suffering may at least be human ? By heaven, I know it not. These men and women. That swarm like maggots on the old earth's rind, Shall I go wring their poor weak hearts for pity And lead a dismal choir of lament ? Faugh ! Let each slave that reels and staggers here Beneath the lash of Fate bear his own load Or die beneath it. Yet think not that I speak In ignorance of Life's poor vaunted comforts. I, too, have known light laughter, easy speech. Companionship and merriment that wings it As nimbly as the humming-bird ; I know All this and Life's nice superfluities Of pleasant kindliness when times are good. All such small satisfactions of the spirit I have noted well. I have examined also The soft amenities of hearth and home. Shared hopes, shared fears, the family's defence 104 ARVAT Against the outer world. I have observed The bonds of place and kinship. All gentilities Of every rank and custom have I looked at. I've tasted every insipidity Of mawkish sentiment, and this I know Life's froth's as sickly as its dregs are bitter The Aged Beggar. Oh ! heaven, send him comfort. Arvat. Pray not for me. I'll take no sops from heaven, I'll not be bribed by any pity now. But go my way alone. Yea, I'll not bear this ultimate deception, I'll see no more these things. I'll think no more These damned thoughts. Away ! away ! but whither ? The panorama of the spinning globe Revolves before the startled orbits of mine eyes. The plains are large and dark. The hills are wild. And on the foam of crested seas in torment The gull shrieks with the wind. The fingers of the soHtary mountains Point upward to the stars. Huge and terrific, The glacier crawls into the silent valley. ARVAT 105 Night glooms upon the grey flanks of the hills. Dusk shrouds the deep of baseless precipices. A torrent roars unceasingly. The stones Are grey and cold and wet with evening dew. This is my habitation. It is here That I must drag my disappointment out Over a weary stretch of baffled years. Here must I wait, awfully hypnotised By the reptilian glassy eyes of Fate. The Aged Beggar. Pray for thy soul. Arvat. No more. The Aged Beggar. Pray for thy soul. Arvat. I cannot now. For knowest thou this, old man ? Thy mortal brain can soar to any measure And judge thy God by the same laws he gave. To everything creating or created Contempt or approbation canst thou mete. io6 ARVAT The Aged Beggar. I will pray for thee, sir, for I perceive that thou art mad. But I cannot listen to such blasphemy. Fare- well. [Exit. Thunder. Darkness falls. Arvat throws himself down on a stone. Arvat. Farewell. The world is waiting For something strange to-night . 1 stifle here. I stifle in this hideous murk of cunning. The fair fine forms of Truth are blotted out, And Reason, gnawed by separate appetites. Lies rotting, rotting. Beauty, thou art dead ! Truth, Reason, Beauty dead, stone dead, and we Are doubly men without them. We are men ; Clean happiness from earth's immortal fountains Cannot be ours. The honest elements Which simple life transmutes to beasts and flowers Starve us. Our food is carrion. Envy, fear. Servility, base products of base minds, — We suck them down. Pah ! This air is shadow-laden, And forms like bats are flitting in the dark. ARVAT 107 Incarnate evil fingering bloody gold, Small hopes, ambitions petty, vain desires. Humiliations and a foolish joy Where no joy is. This is the life of Men, The corporate life, Society, which I Have made my god, slaying the God in me. Yet even failed in this because I clung To Truth and shunned a base expediency ; And now rejected by both God and Man I am cast out from Heaven and from Hell. [ Tke ghost of the Herald appears. Arvat starts back. The Ghost. For man remains delight. There is delight in fire and in war ; There is delight in loot and victory. In rape and rapine, wounds and blood and death ; There is delight in cunning and in stealth ; There is delight in vengeance and in power. Pluck then the crimson flower of delight. Pale fool, before you die. \T he ghost vanishes. Arvat. Spirit of Madness, hail ! Thou speakest well ! Let this be life ! I yet will make it mine. io8 ARVAT The earth shall groan beneath my selfish weight. I will be hands to clutch at my desire. I will be jaws to seize the thing I love. My Madness, vaster, deeper than the sea, More fierce, more wild, shall beat the throbbing skull. So split the earth, so fall from out the sky The blinking stars, and gods die one by one. Blasted the whole creation. Red brain glows ; Red brain knows only death and what it will. [He rushes out. ACT IV. Scene I. The evening of the same day. The scene is a banqueting hall. The nobles and elders are seated at table. The Wizen Noble. Drink deep, my noble lords, drink deep to-night. The Old Noble. The things that I have seen and heard this day Make my heart heavy and this banquet seem A wanton taunt flung to the avenging powers. The people's voice, like thunder heard afar. Growls a deep menace. Messengers report That sullen bands of hungry men are moving Upon this town ; no later than to-night The leaderless State may fall to anarchy ! Quit drinking, sirs, the time is come for action ! To arms, if ye be men ! no ARVAT The Wizen Noble. Calm thee, I pray. Th£) High Priest. I have addressed the populace and turned Their anger in a profitable channel. 'Twill all be well. The Old Noble. These are ambiguous words ; Explain thyself. The Wizen Noble. No matter, sir, no matter. The holy Seer can read his people's hearts. 'Tis not in them that danger lies ; nay, nay, It lies elsewhere. The Old Noble. Sir, courtesy required That we should wait till Arvat joined our feast. The Wealthy Noble. Aye, there, methinks, he's right. ARVAT III The Poor Noble. Why tarrieth Arvat ? The Wizen Noble. Arvat ? Who is he ? Fill up your cups, my lords ! Drink to the future welfare of the State. All. The State ! The State ! [Tkej/ drink. The Old Noble retires. An Elder {sotto voce). This business will be bloody. Look how the old man's eyes are lit with fire ; The fox will turn to tiger ere day dawn. A Noble. What is the plot ? The Elder. The populace are roused. The Noble. 'Gainst whom ? 112 ARVAT The Elder. 'Gainst Misery, never to be slain ; But in their fury some one will they slay. Hark to the fox's cub. The Young Noble [sings). " Pour out the purple and the golden wine, Quaff pleasure while ye may, No grapes can grow, no sun can shine. Beneath six feet of clay." The Wealthy Noble. Stop that young fool. His noise gives me a head- ache. The Poor Noble. Prithee, good sir, — The Young Noble. " Pour out the purple and the golden wine. Quaff pleasure " — Lord, how drunken I do be. Art envious ? Drink. Drink, and when Arvat pricks you, He'll say : " I've pricked a wineskin. Lack-a-day ! I took it for my honourable friend." ARVAT 113 The Poor Noble. A sorry jest. I like it not. The Gloomy Noble. Nor I. I see no cause for merrymaking here. The Wealthy Noble. Not laughable at all. The Wizen Noble. And yet, my lord, I see thee shake with laughter. What but laughter Could make thy hand so tremble ? 'Tis that thou Dost find exhilaration in the doom Which soon shall visit one or visit all. But while thy fierce determination broods 'Tis well to feast, 'tis well to drink, 'tis well To crown the brow with flowers. Our lamps burn ; The night is young ; we'll make our minutes hours Nor think how drear the dawn will look upon This silent hall and see a feast that's done ; The scattered relics strewn upon the floor, — Red wine, red blood, red roses. 114 ARVAT The Young Noble. Old man, I love thee well. Drink, drink, you cattle. The Wizen Noble. Hush, my son, hush ! A Noble. Let him take heed. For, sure, I will slay some one 'fore this night is out. An Elder. Not the young fool nor yet the aged rogue, They do but stir your sluggish tempers thus. Slay him who else will slay, for death's a coin Better given than received. Another Noble. Why comes he not ? The Wizen Noble. Hark ! [ The sound of distant tumult is heard. To the window, boy. The Young Noble {going to the window). Dusk falls apace. I can see nothing. ARVAT us The High Priest. Wait. And thou shalt see. [Tke sound of twnult approaches. The Young Noble. I hear hoarse cries : — " Death to the traitor ! " " Death ! " My lords, perchance 'tis one of you they seek ! The Gloomy Noble {aside). Offensive youth ! What filthy times are these ; The fruit ere green is rotten. The Wizen Noble. What seest thou now ? The Young Noble. Nothing. Nay, wait ... I see . . . The Wizen Noble. Speak ! speak ! What now ? The Young Noble. The form of one who flies ; — His arms outflung to heaven, his head bowed low. I cannot see his face. They follow hard, — "6 ARVAT A howling pack, and stones fly thick as hail. Hark to the shouts and clattering of feet ! They run like wolves and he like gaunt despair. Ha ! ha ! he's down ! The Wizen Noble. Dead ? Dead ? The Young Noble, Nay, risen again, Into the darkness gone. The Gloomy Noble. Who is the fugitive ? The Young Noble. They follow still. The wave hath passed us by. Listen ! Silence once more. The Wealthy Noble. Couldst thou not see his face ? No ? Tush, what matter. Give us more light. Meseems, this hall is dark. ARVAT 117 The Wizen Noble. Hark again ! Hark ! Have they not caught him yet ? [A yell of baffled rage from the distant mob is heard. The Young Noble. Vox populi vox dei. Hear them howl. I fear their prey's escaped them. The Wizen Noble {aside). Oh, accursed fools, Whose folly even cannot be counted on. Whose very villainy conspires to this. To make them blankly nothing. The Wealthy Noble. The wretch is saved, think you ? I'm glad of it. But meantime where is Arvat ? The Gloomy Noble {aside}. Simple soul ! The Young Noble. Here's to thy health, good sir. ii8 ARVAT The Wealthy Noble. Why comes he not ? [Enter Arsinoe, distracted. Arsinoe. My lords The Young Noble. Arsinoe ! The queen Arsinoe ! Drink to Arsinoe ! All. Arsinoe ! \They drink. Arsinoe. Alas, my lords — The Young Noble. Arsinoe, the fair ! Come, drink again ! The peerless jewel of heaven before you stands And ye sit gaping thus ! My sweetest girl. Your eyes are wide with terror. There's no haven In the world but this fond breast of mine : So come, my dearest, come. Arsinoe. Oh, gracious heaven ! ARVAT 119 Several Voices. What means this insolence ? An Elder {soUo voce). What means it ? This : The Seer, the young fool, and the aged rogue Have won the people to them. Page, come hither; Hand me the wine. Arsinoe {to Young Noble). Your manner is so strange. The Wizen Noble. The queen is pale. Arsinoe. My lords, I am afraid. A terrible thing Has come to pass. The Wizen Noble. Speak ! All. Speak ! I20 ARVAT Arsinoe. Arvat is mad. [Enter Arvat, exhausted and covered with blood and dust. Arvat. What ! Mad ! my roguish queen ? What ? Mad ? dear brothers ? Forsooth, why not ? We'll all be mad together. There is more kingly pomp and dignity In one walled madhouse than in all the courts Of all the sober world. Give me the wine. The Wizen Noble. Your health, O noble Arvat ! Arvat. My health means your damnation. Quick. A cup. Arsinoe. Arvat, dear lord, your speech is doubtless witty ; But who are we to understand such words ? Calm thee, I pray ; and tell us fair what means This disarray, this blood and dust, this — ARVAT 121 Arvat. Ha! ha! Arsinoe. And why this fearful laughter ? The Wizen Noble (handing Arvat a cup). Come, drink with me. Arvat. Nay, keep your poison, serpent, You'll need it for yourself. Another cup ! So — fill it to the brim. The Wealthy Noble. 'Tis as I feared. For some time past I've said : " Our friend is mad." Arvat. Look at me drink and know me ! I'm the world. And while we reel our bobbin dance through void I'll teach each worm to live. You'll follow me Like sheep, I say. Each little treacherous worm Reared on his tail shall dance and sing while I March on, march on, down all the aisles of space Chanting my glory. 122 ARVAT The Wizen Noble. Hail, noble Arvat, hail ! For thou art king. Art thou not king ? Arvat. Yes, king. The Wizen Noble. King of the world Art thou. Are we not slaves ? Arvat. Yes, slaves. The Wizen Noble. Slaves ! Slaves ! Ye hear it ? Slaves ! An Elder. We hear it. The Young Noble {laughing). He is king. ARVAT 123 Arvat. Laugh ! laugh ! I swear this is a merry world If you but take it rightly. [Drinks. Drink with me ! Come, drink, my friends ! We'll pledge my novel kingship, And buzz like flies on carrion. Arsinoe. Arvat, you said you never would be king. What mean you now ? Arvat. A blind adherence to the will is weaker Than lack of purpose in this idle world Where nothing's worth the willing ; girl, I mean There is no pride in triumph and no glory In fight of shade with shade or clash of dream with dream. The Wizen Noble. Doth Arvat speak ? Methought I heard his brother. Arvat. My brother ? Where ? 124 ARVAT The Wizen Noble. Aye. Where ? Where didst thou send him ? Arvat. Ah ! brother, there was magic in the world When thou wert here. Arsinoe. Alas ! O Arvat, Arvat ! The Wizen Noble. Thy noble brother died, most noble king, By thine own hand. The Poor Noble. Thy hand was truly great ; Its shadow swept across the vaulted heaven, Terrific unto all. The Young Noble. It slew thy brother but caresseth her. She fears it not, great king. Arvat. Thou fear'st it not ? ARVAT 125 Arsinoe {bewildered). Nay. Arvat. Nor fear nor love and yet I am a king. Nor e'en respect since knowing what she is She yet has seen me love her. Cynical, She is persuaded that all manhood quails Before the arts of femininity ; — Itself its own seducer. But what matter ? Arsinoe. Listen, my lords, what wild and reckless speech ! Arvat. Pass on, poor child, pass on. I've wronged thee greatly. Arsinoe. Thou hast indeed. The Wizen Noble. Wrongs which no curt confession can atone She whom thou oft hast slighted publicly 126 ARVAT Cannot be righted with an easy word. What think you ? Speak ! [To ARSlNOfi. Arsinoe. 'Tis so, Arvat. Then let this, too, Stand to my reckoning, for I say no more. [Exit Arsinoe, covering her face with her hands. The Wealthy Noble. Arvat ! Arvat. There is no reparation but Time's wheel Reversed, which cannot be. The Wealthy Noble. Arvat, good sir, Why stand you there with that distracted look ? Though troubles lie upon, us heavily. This pie is excellent. Come. Seat you here. ARVAT 127 The Wizen Noble. Aye ! come and join our merry company. Arvat. Would'st thou be king, old man ? Thou wrinkled rogue Thy wizen fingers twitch and thy small eyes Gleam like two diamonds in murky hell. Would'st thou be king. And wherefore ? Would the night Yield sweeter sleep ? Would sunhght be more glad ? Would shrunken limbs grow suppler ? Or the brain Drink sounds and sights of beauty as in youth, Rejoicing ? Couldst thou love again, old man ? With such lines round thy mouth couldst thou be gay ? The Wizen Noble. His mind is wandering. His speech is wild. [Arvat throws himself down on a seat and covers his face with his hands. The Young Noble. Was it thou the people hunted down the street ? Arvat. 'Twas I. 128 ARVAT The Wealthy Noble. 'Twas he ! Now God preserve us. It was he ! The Young Noble. Was it thou didst enter the forbidden shrine ? Arvat. Not I that am, but I that was — and am not ; A pitiful stranger ! Let him rest in peace. He sought to join our mortal isolations By plunging deep. But oh ! — the deeps divide. The Young Noble. Was it thou didst slay thy brother ? Arvat. It was I. I see again the mockery of his smile. It was as cold as on a face of iron. He comes to me in dreams of misery. I see him as a slender cut-off hand Lying alone upon a field of ice Dead for all time. It sometimes grips my throat. ARVAT 129 An Elder. The court physician will administer Some potion to the king. Some soothing potion Made of green herbs and what not ; but it will Dispel the fancied grip of hand on throat Instanter. The Wealthy Noble. Well spoken, sir. He's mad. He must be humoured. Arvat. Where am I now whose way was once so straight ? Who panther-like went scattering the foe ? Who saved this nation and am spurned by it ? Who slew my brother ? The Wealthy Noble. 'Twas but justice, sir. His actions were deserving of his doom. An Elder. Who mourns a weakling mourneth his lost pride. Another Elder. So great a king to have so weak a brother ! Strange are the ways of fate ! 130 ARVAT The Wealthy Noble. Aye, passing strange, A friend of mine much given to breeding rabbits — Arvat {starting up in frenzy). O, ye gods ! Carve on his tomb : " Poeta dormio " And let the world be sad. [There is a silence. The Wizen Noble rises and the others follow suit. The Wizen Noble. Hast thou then come to this ? [Arvat is silent. The Gloomy Noble. Enough of words. The Wizen Noble. Where's now thy dream of glory ? [Arvat remains silent. The Gloomy Noble. Peace, thou knave ! The feast is finished ! Out with the lights ! Away ! ARVAT 131 The Wizen Noble. Great Lord of Nothingness, mouthing the void ! Where's now thy dream of glory ? [Arvat remains silent. The Gloomy Noble. It hath fled. Fled, fled. But we remain. Farewell, poor Arvat. Thy little span of years hath taught thee this : No profit here nor there beneath the sun. [^Exit. The Wizen Noble {looking after him). {Sotto voce) He too shall die. {Aloud) Elders and noble lords ! I call upon you To follow me to council. We have to judge A fratricide and traitor. We have to save A noble nation from a tyranny. We have to rescue a defenceless girl, And vindicate our honour. [He moves towards the door. The Young Noble joins him, and one by one the others follow. ARVAT is left alone. 132 ARVAT Scene II. Some of the torches flicker and go out. The hall darkens. Arvat. Shall I now raise from the abysmal deep The ghost of Fury, vassal to my spirit ? Take up the sword the black hand ofFereth, And smite where'er my demon counselleth ? For I am loath to die. \Enter the Sage. The Sage. Rememberest me ? Arvat. Aye. I remember thee. What wouldst thou now ? The Sage. Arvat ! I wish thee well, yet counsel death. Thine hour has come. Thou art cast forth by all. More strange and alien thou art to the people Than they who would oppress them, — and more hated. Thou hast affronted petty dignities ; Thou hast made meanness conscious of itself; ARVAT 133 Thou hast awoken wants that were not felt ; Thou hast made Happiness in Ignorance Ridiculous to them who once were happy. Thou hast made Misery in Ignorance Ridiculous, and thus chased human pride From its last piteous refuge, Tragedy. With poison to heal sickness hast thou come, And scourged Humanity with the deadliest Scourge of the Spirit, Truth. Arvat. I will not die. I'll neither curse my doom nor weep mine ending But live to drown my pain in triumphing And in commotion drown the voice of Fate. Lifeless, I'll life and objectless, pursue; Lift up one man and hurl another down. Copy the frantic action of the world, — Its greed and agitation. Be a monster To suit this monstrous earth. The Sage. It is too late. Arvat. Too late for this ? 134 ARVAT The Sage. Too late, my friend. Where is that wishful self, Which taking this or that as aim and end, Creates the fiction of reality ? Thou hast it not. Who sees the void is void. Henceforth the world and thee are things apart. Thou art spectator of thine impotence, And toil, the kindly drug, no more can soothe. Arvat. I will not die. The Sage. Man hates not death but dying, O my son. Arvat. Gnawed down by rats ; with curses on my lips : It is not thus that I would meet the end. The Sage. Nay, it should not be thus. There is a wisdom of the world to live, A wisdom of eternity to die. The first is of illusion, — doth create ARVAT 135 This little complex in the simple void, Weaving the web of faith and prejudice, In which entangled nature strains and strives. Life's wisdom lies in fashioning restrictions Which shall exasperate and prick desire That else would yield satiety and death. But, feeding on the illicit, desire re-born Brings pleasure, pleasure shame, and shame despair ; But such despair is vital and bears hope. 'Tis thus, the gamut of the passions ringing. Life makes itself eternal. [He pauses. The higher wisdom lies in knowing this. Arvat. The higher wisdom lies in Innocence, — Innocence guilty of a smiling face ! Snow-white and wicked in a world where knowledge Is duty and a poison to the soul ! The Sage. Wast thou not warned ? Each living man is warned. " Beware," the wisdom of Illusion cries, " Look not within, but fix thy mortal eyes Upon the outward show and let the act Follow the thought alway. Combat with wholesome enemies alone — 136 ARVAT Those of my choosing. Life shall prosper thus Even in thy defeat." But thou, my friend, Hast dared too much and therefore art become The prison and the prisoner of thy soul. Arvat. Had I but learnt My lesson here I would go hence in peace And mix my spirit with the passing wind, But I have only seen confusion born And seeming order melt in anarchy. While in the absence of a final purpose Man like the ineffectual ocean toils Grinding the pebbles of a desolate shore. The Sage. Thy lesson, Arvat, was indifference To all humanity's concerns. The goddess That guides the sage upon his peaceful way Is Knowledge, and she satisfies her sons. Arvat. How can this be in such a life as mine ? I have done good and suffered, sinned and prospered. ARVAT 137 And manhood's reason is content no longer To justify injustice with the name, Inscrutability. What then care 1 For all the wisdom of the libraries ? Knowledge forsooth ! 'Twas man in ignorance Who gave a secret to the roving stars, The spheres a music and a sign to Hope, Who found the earth and hath created heaven And mortal made him immortality. Wherefore, O sage, thy wisdom tempts me not. Huge lifeless truths submerged in Space and Time Touch not my spirit longing for a home. Behold ! for me the feast of life is finished, [He points to the relics of the banquet. My torch is flickering in an empty hall. My wine is spilt, my rose hath shed her petals, And through the casement shines the silver moon \He walks up to the window. Painting the crimson grey. The Sage. Lo ! as the pendulous moon hath torn herself From the warm breast of earth to float alone In silvery solitude and deathful calm. So have I done. Canst thou not copy me ? 138 ARVAT Arvat. I would not. As a dumb beast I'd rather browse the fields, So I could feel earth's warm brown breast beneath me. The Sage. Farewell then, Arvat. My way is not thine. Mine is the inhalation of the spirit That breathes upon the face of all known things Lending them Order. I feel the hush of the world, — The peace, the calm, The melting of the Many into One. Soon through the zone of unextinguishable fires. Diamond-scattered on the dark floor of night. Eternity as a grey-hooded spirit Shall wander and my soul shall follow him. No bourne of Time, no warning pale of Space Shall limit us who virgin silence keep ; But calm as catafalques of unimagined kings We'll march through pageants of prophetic vision. [Exit the Sage. The Ghost of Arvat's brother appears. ARVAT 139 Arvat. Hail, O my brother ! Visitest thou me ? Then give me counsel. Thy mysterious eyes Still hold the promise of an unknown joy Offered and yet withheld. What is thy secret ? Speak to me ! Speak ! What is thy destiny ? Thy jjortion in that region whence thou comest ? The Ghost. I sing the wondrous ecstasy of song In words that glitter and in words that glow; Soft-sighing words, insidious words and slow Fall from my lips and Beauty doth prolong Their winged music to Eternity. 'Tis I who weave them into divers forms Moulded to measure. Undulating rhyme Sways the still ether that enfolds my seat, And there above the world, beyond its storms. Outside all Space and ignorant of time, I hearken to the murmur 'neath my feet. [Tke Ghost vanishes. Arvat. O strange aspect of Universal Being, Intimate alien voice of Memory, I40 ARVAT Thou hast no message for me ! Thou and he Beckon on lone ways leading to no home. night, thou knowest this ! O blessed night, To shelter me this hour ! Be dark, O night. That I may creep upon my lowly path. Unseen, unknown. O blessed, blessed night, To let me wing my soul upon this prayer Born of thy silence. And ye, dumb solitudes. Forever waiting, wait yet a little longer. Knowing at last I come. Yea, this the end is also the beginning, Atom of unfulfilment, now I know 1 who have wished to be so much am nothing, I who have wished to give so much give nothing, Empty of all things but my bootless wish. Scene III. The scene is a large open place in the city. It is night. Arvat and the Aged Beggar enter. The Aged Beggar. The quickest way out of the city lies across this square, Arvat. The crowd is very dense yonder. The people are gathering together and not a few carry torches. ARVAT 141 The Aged Beggar. You need not be afraid. Your clothes are so torn and your face is so altered that no one will recognise you. Did they beat you ? Did they pursue you ? Yes. Why 7 I know not. Arvat. The Aged Beggar. Arvat. The Aged Beggar. But I know. It was a punishment sent from heaven for your blasphemy. If I did not know that you had been punished I would not let you come with me. Do you see that marble platform yonder ? Arvat. Yes. But tell me, old man, by what chance were you standing outside the castle gates at so late an hour ? It was strange. 142 ARVAT The Aged Beggar. No. I was waiting for scraps left over from the feast. There was a great feast in the castle this evening. How came you to be in the castle ? Did they give you refuge there when you were pursued ? Arvat. Yes. The Aged Beggar. How dense the crowd has become; the people are thronging round that platform. Arvat. Come on, I pray. Come. The Aged Beggar. My son, old age has made me feeble. I cannot push my way through that crowd. I must wait. Arvat. What, here ? The Aged Beggar. Aye ; and what better place could you wish for ? We can see everything. Have you not heard that there is to be a great ceremony ? ARVAT 143 Arvat. I had not heard. The Aged Beggar. A great ceremony. Look ! There is some one on the platform. It is the High Priest. How majestic ! How noble ! He raises his hand. A solemn hush has fallen upon the crowd. I believe he is going to give us his blessing. The High Priest. Approach, my children ! Bring your burdens here ! Cast ye your cares aside ! Sing and rejoice ! Rejoice, my children ! Flambeaux in the dusk Raise to his honour and acclaim a king ! A worthy offspring of immortal sires, A flower of our old nobility, Becomes our king to-night. Oh, welcome him ! He will upbuild what anarchy brought low, Reform what wanton hands have spoiled, bring back The days of peace and plenty and restore The glory of our name. The Aged Beggar. Good news, good news ! I am slow of hearing and could not understand everything he said. But it is evidently good news. 144 ARVAT The High Priest. Rejoice and sing ! The evil days are past. War have we seen and civil strife and power Misused to selfish ends and deeds of blood And sacrilege most terrible of all. But these are past, my children. Happiness, The Happiness of virtue, justice, peace. Awaits you now beneath this government. A Voice from the Crowd. O Happiness, thou dewy-petalled flower ! Thy wayside blossom shall we ever see ? The High Priest. Patience ! A little patience ! Ye shall all Find Happiness 'ere long. Ye shall be free ! The tyranny that would have crushed you down Is vanquished. This man saved you. [Tke Wizen Noble steps forward. The Crowd. Hail ! All hail ! The Aged Beggar. O ! 'tis wonderful ! Do you hear, my son ? It is by that man's wisdom that we are saved ! Indeed, I can well believe it. His wisdom shines upon his face. ARVAT 145 The Wizen Noble. Hear me, ye peoples, hear. Know that your hopes shall be fulfilled at last ! The river flows not back into its source, And Progress is the order of the world. A Voice from the Crowd. I fear to hope and yet I hope again. The Wizen Noble. 'Tis well. Continue thus and lend your ear To our supreme decree. Behold ! once more The palace shall be reared upon the plain, Its garden shall be consecrate to peace. The offices of State shall be restored, The court shall shine as it hath shone of yore And in the pomp of long sequestered hours The king and queen shall plan their people's good. [The sound of trumpets is heard and the soldiers who have filled the back of the platform open out a way. Behold ! they come ! the saviours of the State ! My son, your king ! His queen, Arsinoe ! [The Young Noble and Arsinoe advance. They seat themselves upon a throne. The crowd acclaim them with enthusiasm. 146 ARVAT Arvat. My father, if you are rested we will set forth again upon our way. The Aged Beggar. Bless them ! God bless them ! How young and happy they look ! I believe they will bestow upon us greater happiness than we have known yet. What say you, my son ? Arvat. Verily, my father, I believe it may be so. The Aged Beggar. Come. We will go now. Arvat. Lean on my arm. We have a long stage before us. The Aged Beggar. I thank you. Yes, we have far to go. There is a booth outside the eastern gate where you may buy ARVAT 147 a good staff and a wallet for very little money. You will need them, my son ; you will need them. Mine, indeed, are worn out ; but I am old. It would be wasteful for me to get new ones. But it will be a long time before you are as old as I am now. FINIS. Printed by Ballantvne Hanson &* Co. Edinburgh &* London. iliM